#summer tana

[cenijoarts]

For anyone curious about Tana’s whereabouts in my last piece, don’t worry, she’s just showing up fashionably late. ^_^

[bananabraiined]

A picture of perfection.

[dollyiia]

pop culture moments 2

[besidebloomingirises]

[radicrow]

HEYYYYYY LOOK AT MY UPCOMING SACRED STONES CHARMS (living up to my blog caption)

[tanalogyosc]

Summer Styles

I made this one for a discord camp back then and I just found this, and oh my god does it not fit her at all.

Now, i feel like i could probably make more summer looks for my other characters so uh, suggest who I should make a summer fit for.

If no one suggest anything i'll just spin a wheel out of all my characters

[ussrwitch]

[keyotos]

trying to decide where to go to for college is so stressful. like how am i supposed to know how much i need for scholarships IM JUST A GIRL. GIRL IN NEED. FIRST GEN. LET ME IN.

[alesandraelin]

𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚘 - 𝙾𝚗𝚊 𝙱𝚊𝚝𝚕𝚕𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Description: Y/n Bonmati and Ona Batlle have just moved back to Barcelona after their stints in opposite sides of Manchester, can they keep their relationship hidden?

*google translated spanish*

The summer sun bathed Barcelona in a golden glow as Y/n Bonmati stepped onto the lush green pitch of the Barcelona training grounds. It had been a whirlwind few weeks since she and her girlfriend Ona Batlle had returned to FC Barcelona Femeni, their beloved home club where their football journeys began. Y/n, who had made her name at Manchester City, and Ona, a star at Manchester United, had decided to come back to Barcelona.

"Finally back." Y/n breathed the Catalan air in deeply as her head fell onto Ona's shoulder as they watched the sun set over the pitch they hadn't trained on in years but loved so much.

"Finally home." Ona smiled as y/n's head fell comfortably onto her shoulder, she pressed a kiss into her girlfriend's temple as they sat on the turf.

Their love had blossomed quietly over the years, starting with shared glances on the field and late-night conversations after tough matches. It had been a secret kept tightly between them, not out of shame but out of a desire for privacy in a world where their every move was scrutinized. Now, back in Barcelona, they hoped to breathe freely again.

But old habits die hard, and the fear of judgment lingered. Especially from Y/n’s older sister, Aitana Bonmati. The midfielder had been the main pillar of support in Y/n’s life from when she just began at a grass roots club to when she joined La Masia, the Barcelona B team and then when she went to Manchester for experience. Aitana was perceptive, her eyes sharp and her intuition keen. Y/n feared her sister’s reaction the most, worried that their revelation might strain their close bond.

Their first few days back were a whirlwind of training sessions and team bonding activities. Y/n and Ona stole glances and brief touches whenever they could, their love simmering just beneath the surface as they navigated the watchful eyes of their teammates. The couple had made the decisions to have two apartments close enough to each other they could walk over at any point and stay there so that team mates and family who came over wouldn't question them living together, let alone sharing a bed.

The team decided that it should be Ona who would host team bonding night, Alexia really just wanted to see if the apartment hadn't been destroyed already. Y/n was already sitting on Ona's couch in an old Manchester city tracksuit when the rest of their teammates started making their way through the door to the apartment, loudly disrupting the young girls attempt to sleep.

"It is not time to sleep pequeña, we are here to have fun." Y/n was startled as Patri creeped behind and grabbed her shoulders.

"You only get louder Patricia." Y/n huffs, giving her friend a playful frown before pulling her down into a hug. "Missed you amiga."

"Good to have you back chica." Patri let her go and sat on a seat next to Pina.

The loud laughs of the older girls talking to Ona had Y/n turning her head. "Are you sure you haven't broken or burnt down something yet Oni? The place looks to... clean." Alexia questions Ona with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

Y/n engages in many conversations with the girls she grew up with in the academy as well as the girls she had never met throughout the night. She met Mapi's girlfriend Ingrid, who was super tall by the way and Ingrid's good friend Frido who was even taller. She caught up with her big sister who was currently the favourite to win the ballon d'or after her performance last season and during the World Cup the sister won together.

As it got later, the girls started to say their goodbyes and go back home. Aitana approached her little sister offering to take her back home. "It is alright Tana, I'm staying overnight with Ona, it's tradition to sleep over before we start the season remember." Y/n makes the excuse, reminding the older sister of the times y/n and Ona slept over at each others houses before the seasons began when in the youth teams.

"Only if you are sure hermana, te amo." Aitana said slightly suspicious but still said her goodbyes to her sister and Ona before heading home.

As all their guests had left, y/n let out a dramatic sigh and sat back down on the couch tiredly. Ona quickly joined her girlfriend, pulling y/n's legs over her lap before pressing a kiss to y/n's lips which she returned. "Come on amor, we have training tomorrow, bed time now."

"Yes please." Y/n replied, her girlfriend picking her up and taking them to bed to replenish before their first training session back with the team.

The next morning, under the bright Catalan sun, the team gathered for a rigorous training session. Jonatan gave instructions with his usual blend of authority and encouragement, setting the tone for the day’s drills. Y/n and Ona found themselves on the same team during a scrimmage, giving each other a smirk as they grabbed their bibs.

The scrimmage began the play went back and forth, Ona intercepting passes and y/n attempting to build forward on the wings. One mistake from Salma gave Ona the ball, she spotted y/n with wide space, the rest of the players being marked, she expertly delivered y/n the ball and the other team's defenders scrambled to keep up withy y/n. Y/n was one on one with Sandra who was that light bit off her line giving her the opportunity. She brang her foot back and gave the ball a powerful strike, ending in the back of the net.

Ona instantly came up to her girlfriend and pressed a kiss to her head and patted her back as the game continued. The interaction raised the eyebrows of Alexia, Patri, Mapi, Ingrid and Marta. Aitana's eyebrows furrowed slightly as she saw the kiss but brushed it off, the couple were nothing more than best friends in her eyes, they had always been that way.

Later that afternoon, during a break in training, Y/n and Ona found a quiet spot by the sidelines. Ona leaned against the fence, catching her breath, while Y/n stood beside her, a smile playing on her lips.

“You were brilliant out there,” Y/n complimented, brushing a stray lock of hair from Ona’s forehead.

Ona grinned, her eyes sparkling with pride. “You weren’t bad yourself, Bonmati. You always know how to surprise me.”

Y/n chuckled softly, leaning closer. “It’s all part of my plan to keep you on your toes.”

Ona’s laughter mingled with the sounds of the training ground, a melody that echoed the joy they felt in each other’s presence. She reached for Y/n’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m glad we’re back here,” Ona confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” Y/n admitted, her gaze softening as she met Ona’s eyes. “It feels like we’re finally where we belong.” Their moment was interrupted by the approach of their teammates, laughter and banter filling the air. Y/n and Ona reluctantly let go of each other’s hands.

The whistle blew, marking the end of a thrilling match at Estadi Johan Cruyff. FC Barcelona Femeni had secured a decisive victory against Levante, thanks in part to Y/n Bonmati’s stellar performance – a goal scored and a perfectly executed assist to Caro that sealed the win. The stadium erupted in applause, fans chanting their names as the players made their way off the field.

Amidst the jubilation, Y/n and Ona Batlle lingered on the sidelines, caught up in the adrenaline rush of the game and the sweet taste of victory. Ona’s eyes sparkled with pride as she watched Y/n interact with their teammates, her heart swelling with admiration for the woman beside her.

"You played so well amor, it's like we never left." Ona said in y/n's ear, her mouth against her ear and her hands around the winger's waist.

"You did too cariño, so good to be back." y/n replied as she melted into the older girl's touch. "Let's go back to the dressing room." The two walked down the tunnel with Ona's arm around her shoulder and y/n's wrapped around Ona's torso.

Ona, her eyes glowing with pride and affection, couldn't resist pulling Y/n into a passionate kiss, unable to contain her joy and love for the woman who had just shone so brightly on the pitch.

Their lips met in a tender embrace, the taste of victory mingling with the sweetness of their love. They lost themselves in each other, oblivious to the world outside the dressing room, their hearts beating in sync with the rhythm of their shared passion

Unbeknownst to them, Marta and Alexia had returned early from their post-match interviews. They rounded the corner into the dressing room, laughter dying on their lips as they caught sight of Y/n and Ona locked in a tender kiss.

Marta's eyes widened in surprise, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a gasp. Alexia stood frozen in place, her gaze alternating between the couple and the doorway, unsure of what to do next. The air crackled with tension as Y/n and Ona slowly pulled apart, their cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and affection.

"Marta, Alexia," Y/n stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "We... um..."

"I think we know what's happening pequeña." Alexia laughed slightly as Ona scratched the back of her head embarrassed. Marta stifling her laughter.

"I knew it, Caro owes me 10 euros." Marta laughed triumphantly. "We had a feeling," Marta admitted, her voice gentle yet firm. "But seeing you both like this... It's clear how much you mean to each other."

Alexia nodded in agreement, her expression softening. "You don't have to explain yourselves, Y/n, Ona. We're happy for you."

Before Y/n could respond, the locker room door swung open, revealing the rest of the team. The players filed in, their voices mingling with the echoes of celebration from outside. Asisat and Caroline exchanged knowing glances, while Pina and Patri whispered excitedly to each other.

Mariona, always one for drama, gasped dramatically. "Well, well, well! What do we have here?"

Y/n and Ona exchanged a sheepish look, their cheeks burning with embarrassment. Aitana, standing beside Keira, smirked at her sister's red face.

“You’re together,” Aitana stated, her voice a mixture of surprise and understanding.

Y/n nodded, her gaze steady. “Yes, Aitana. Ona and I are together.”

A silence settled over them, broken only by the distant sounds of celebration from the stadium outside. Aitana studied her sister’s face, searching for any hint of doubt or hesitation. Instead, she found only a quiet resolve and a love that radiated from Y/n’s eyes.

After a moment that stretched into eternity, Aitana’s expression softened. She stepped forward, enveloping Y/n and Ona in a warm embrace. Tears pricked at the corners of Y/n’s eyes as relief flooded through her, the weight of secrecy finally lifted from her shoulders.

“I’m so happy for you both,” Aitana whispered, her voice filled with genuine joy. “You deserve every happiness hermana.” Aitana told her sister before looking to Ona. "And you, treat her good or else." Aitana tried to be intimidating as she looked up to Ona who stood a few inches taller.

"Don't worry Aita, she's mi amor, I will never hurt her." Ona laughed at her girlfriend's sister.

As the two lovers were left as the rest of the team changed out of their kits, they remained seated on the bench, arms wrapped around each other. "Te amo mucho Oni." Y/n whispered in Ona's ear.

Ona brought her head down to peck y/n's lips. "Te amo mucho más, cariño".

[delfiore]

—NOTHING IN THE WORLD BELONGS TO ME (BUT MY LOVE).

pairing: aitana bonmatí x reader

synopsis: a picture of you and aitana making out during a team party is leaked online.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: she's my bbg your honor.

“Thank you. Yeah, call me whenever you need to.”

You ended the phone call and groaned into your hand. It was almost dinnertime, but you had no energy left to even think of cooking after being on the phone for literal hours.

Walking into the living room, you found Aitana watching TV, or rather, the screen was on but she was staring into space somewhere.

“Paolo said it’s murky because we were in a public space, but not really ‘cause it was in the hallway. He’s getting paid to win this case though, and that he will,” you said.

Aitana looked at you briefly with a half smile.

She hasn’t talked much since this morning when the news came. You felt guilty for not having sat with her longer, but you needed to get your attorney involved as soon as possible.

“It’ll be okay, babe, I promise,” you sat next to her and put your arm around her shoulder. Still, she seemed tense.

“Is it . . .” Aitana drew a breath, “is it really that bad? That people know about us now?”

You sighed quietly, pulling your arm away to hold her downcast gaze. “It doesn’t matter. They sold those pictures to the press against our will. They infringed on our rights. I thought you understood that.”

Your tone came out harsher than you anticipated. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to . . .”

“No, todo bien.” She shook her head and sat up. “You want takeout or no?”

You mentally cursed at yourself as she turned off the TV. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

You watched her walk over to the island by the kitchen, to pick up her phone.

“Tana,” you said, and she turned around. “Te quiero mucho.”

Aitana mustered up the best smile she could, and you recognized that. She knew you were burdened with the responsibility of talking to attorneys, and you were trying very hard, but she was a bit disappointed that you wanted so badly to stop the pictures from going public. She was never good at the legal part, she didn’t know a lot, but she trusted you to make the right decisions, and she loved you a lot too.

The pictures were taken the night before, while you were out with the team to celebrate another league title win. It was the end of the season, and it would be a few weeks before the summer international break, and your teammates were down to party at a local club for the hard work of another season.

It had been an eventful one, full of trials and tribulations, for you especially. Having undergone a surgery, you were forced to the sidelines for a good chunk of the season. Aitana had been there with you through everything; staying in the hospital after your surgery, preparing your shared home for your foreseeable impediment, reminding you to take your daily meds . . . She was the only reason you were still standing, because the toll the injury took on you physically was a speck compared to how it did on you mentally.

You had gone to get another drink and, upon you returning, found Aitana dancing with some of your teammates on the dance floor. Grinning and shaking your head, you could never get enough of how much of a party animal your girlfriend could become when she was able to. A tint of pink adorned her cheeks when she spotted you and pulled you towards the dance floor with her.

“I’ll take that, thank you,” you pretended to be offended when she took the glass from your hand and took a sip, grimacing as soon as she did. “Ooh! It’s strong!”

“Slow down, baby,” you laughed at her.

Aitana snorted, “lame.” She slung her arm around your neck, as you giggled into her ear. “Come here.”

“Not here,” you shook your head and gently pushed her away.

You could just barely make out a her huff, as she pulled away. “You’re no fun. Let loose for one night, will you?”

A few drinks later, you found yourself with your arm slung around Lucy as the two of you led the disharmonious choir of Barcelona players singing (badly) to the music.

You heard Aitana cackling in the corner as the song finished, doubling over and clapping her hands at your drunken rendition of a Zedd song.

“Let’s go, everyone! Next round’s on me!” You said and your teammates cheered.

Your eyes found your girlfriend by your side, just as she always was, waiting to take care of you and share your happiness.

Her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you to her, as you felt her laughter vibrate against your chest. You had pulled her away from the main floor and into a secluded hallway, or at least it was what you thought in your drunken haze.

Your lips were pressed against hers hungrily, with passion better saved for the privacy of your shared bedroom rather than a packed nightclub. Aitana let out a trembling sigh, enjoying the sweet taste of your kiss and the push and pull of your hands along her body.

“God, you’re so good to me,” you whispered into her lips. “I love you.”

She was oblivious to the storm that was to come when a club-goer snapped a picture of the two of you. Though the lighting left much to be desired, your features were captured perfectly, and within context, people put two and two together.

Aitana was the first to see the photo when she woke up the next morning. Maybe it’s not so bad, she had told herself, at least people know now.

She only regretted seeing the pure bliss on your face disappear the moment you found the picture online, and you had been on-call with your attorney ever since.

You never really shook off the tension that resided between your eyebrows, in the curl of your upper lip, and your shoulders over the next few days. You, Aitana, and the rest of the team were back in pre-season training, and everyone could tell you were stressing over it. Though you took training seriously, there was always a smile on your face even when someone had beaten you in a drill. Yet now, you scowled and kicked the grass whenever you lost the ball, or whenever someone dribbled past you. It got to the point where you got yourself into a scuffle with Lucy. Aitana had looked over at the commotion, and seen you all up in Lucy’s personal space, arguing with her, as a couple of the assistant coaches had to separate you from her.

Aitana hated the pitiful looks her teammates would give her afterwards. She clenched her jaw and watched Jonatan lead you inside for a talk. She was planning on giving you an earful when she caught you alone, but when you emerged with Jonatan, your eyes were bloodshot like you had been crying.

You refused to talk the entire car ride home, even refusing to look at her, opting to look out the window instead.

The moment you got home, you threw your dirty clothes into the laundry and headed upstairs.

“You want me to reheat leftovers, cariño?” She tried to ask.

“No, thanks,” you didn’t even look back. “I’m just gonna go and take a nap.”

You woke up around 8 pm. Aitana knew because she was downstairs watching TV when you skirted down the stairs like an apparition and crept into the kitchen looking for food.

She took the opportunity when you were distracted with dumping the rest of the content from the Tupperware onto a plate. Snaking her arms around your waist, she pressed her head onto your shoulder. She sighed in relief when she felt the warmth of your right hand encircle her own.

“I embarrassed myself today, didn’t I?” You said quietly.

Aitana pursed her lips and pulled you around to look at her. “That wasn’t very nice, no.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into her shoulder.

“It’s not me you need to say sorry to,” your girlfriend sighed and hugged you tightly. “We will be okay, my love.”

“I just think about those picture, and I just . . .” You exhaled sharply and buried your nose into her neck. “Fuck, I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Yeah?” Aitana frowned, and cupped your cheeks, leaning in. “Why don’t I distract you for a bit?”

Her lips found yours in a tender kiss. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in the feeling of her touch and her love. Your lips slotted together in a kiss that became more intimate the moment Aitana slipped her hands under your shirt and caressed your pelvis. You groaned as you felt her drag her fingertips towards your back, stretching your waistband and pulling it further out so she could feel further down.

“Fuck . . .” You groaned impatiently, cupping her neck roughly as you used your hips to press her back against the counter.

She was breathless now, one hand in your shorts and the other itching to get your shirt off, but you pulled away before she could do anything.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this today,” you sighed, detaching yourself from her completely to return to making your food.

Aitana watched you put the leftovers into the microwave before leaving you in the kitchen. She understood that you were stressed, but she was thrown off by the way you have been pushing her away the past few days. She knew herself; if she said something, you would say something, and before she knew it things would turn into an argument and someone would say something they didn’t mean.

Pushing the scenario to the back of her head, she headed upstairs to get ready for bed.

In the following days, she felt you pulling away further and further from her. The only times she really saw you were during training, otherwise you would avoid her completely. She spotted you standing in a hallway looking out the window once. Upon approaching you, she noticed you were on the phone with your earbuds in, and against her better judgment, left you be.

Your teammates noticed the sudden rift between you and Aitana too—you two who were always stuck at the hip, you two who turned to each other first in times of victory and defeat, you two whom everyone bet on tying the knot first. Frido was the first to reach out, and had Aitana brushed it off like it was something trivial, but her teammate saw right through the lie. Aitana was Aitana, never asking for help and always having gotten by on her own, but this time her Frido knew it was severe, because Aitana never misses a goal in training, never.

During a match at the weekend, Aitana scored. Usually, she would look to you and jump into your arms to celebrate, but this time, you were already walking back to the halfway line while several of her teammates swarmed her in glee. She felt sick to her stomach, she felt like everything was her fault, and her frustration built and before she knew it, she had stomped on an opponent’s ankle in an attempt to win the ball back. When she realized the weight of the situation, it was already too late; the incident happened just next to the sidelines in front of the assistant referee, and she was shown a red card for using excessive force.

Barcelona won, of course, as they always have, even whilst playing away and down to 10 men. You walked into the dressing room, feeling the on-set fatigue coming on. You glanced at the broken bottle and the puddle of energy drink into one corner of the room, then Aitana sitting in her cubby in the other. You haven’t been very kind to her the past few days, and you doubted that she’d want your comfort anyway because of that. Plus, you weren’t in the mood to talk to her right now; what she did was immature and out of line. What you didn’t know was that she had thrown that bottle across the room and blamed herself, wishing that she’d be able to cry into your arms. Instead, she had pressed her legs to her chest, and hugged herself as she cried alone in that dressing room.

Frido found out, of course; everyone has their breaking point eventually, even the strongest and most resilient. Frido told Ingrid, Ingrid told Mapi, Mapi got angry, and confronted you one day.

In her fury—and maybe in yours too—you didn’t make out everything she hurled at you, but you recognized an insulting word when you heard one. Instead of turning away like you had initially intended, you turned around and lunged at her.

“What did you say to me?! Say it again. I dare you!”

Frido had to drag you away, and it was her stern look alone that de-escalated the situation.

“She started it first!” You shoved her away as you took deep breaths through the worst of your anger.

“She was right to call you that, Y/N. You are a fucking asshole,” she said. You turned around, expecting her to apologize, but you saw no trace of remorse.

“What the fuck?”

“You’re an asshole. You don’t even notice your girlfriend is suffering.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “What did she tell you? That I’ve been busy trying to get these fucking pictures taken down? Because someone violated my privacy? Her privacy? Because I won’t pay attention to her for one goddamn second?”

The Swede scoffed and shook her head. “Listen to yourself. You’ve become despicable. I understand that you’re going through a hard time, but so is Aitana. People are talking about her too. You don’t think she’s also stressed out? She won’t ask you for help because she’s Aitana and she would never ask anyone for help. You knew that better than anyone, yet you’ve left her all alone, you asshole!”

Frido was yelling at you, scolding you like a child. Your anger bubbled, but it soon turned into guilt when her words sunk in.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Y/N. Aitana deserves the respect that everyone has given her, except you.”

She pushed past you roughly, and you felt the weight of her scolding. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and it was an incoming text from your lawyer.

“We have grounds to press charges, and we’ll most likely win if you choose to do so. Let me know what you and Aitana decide on.”

“Fuck”, you locked your phone with an impending need to throw it into the window pane in front of you.

This was what you wanted ever since you saw that picture on Twitter, but now you weren’t sure if it was the right course of action anymore. Your insistence on press charges has made you become a rotten human being, and looking back at the last few days, you didn’t recognize this person you have become. Picking fights with your teammates, being a sore loser in training games, abandoning Aitana. You had no idea what she was thinking the past few days, and it scared you. She used to tell you everything.

Your knees gave out below you, and you felt the exhaustion from the last week come crashing down. You took a seat on a nearby bench and cradled your head in your hands. There was the sound of studs clicking evenly against the ground beside you before the bench strained under the weight of another body.

Looking up you saw Mapi leaning against the bench looking at you with a soft expression.

You were too tired to fight, but you didn’t think Mapi was here to continue where you both left off before, which was why it surprised you that she was here.

“Sorry for calling you a cabró,” she said casually, looking away.

“You’re not wrong,” you muttered. “I am a cabró, the biggest cabró there ever was.”

You felt her strong hand on your shoulder. “Todos cometen errores, amiga. Se trata de si intentas enmendarlo o no. Entonces, ¿lo harás?” (”Everyone makes mistakes, bud. It’s about whether you try to make up for it or not. So, will you?”)

You pursed your lips, finding comfort in Mapi’s generosity. “Where’s Aitana?”

"Viene a casa para pasar la noche con nosotros. Te sugiero que le des espacio y uses este tiempo para reflexionar sobre tus acciones también.” (“She's coming home to stay overnight with us. I suggest you give her some space and use this time to reflect on your actions too.”)

You nodded as Mapi gave you one last pat on the shoulder before taking her leave. You were glad to have friends such as Mapi, Ingrid, and Frido. In your egotism, at least Aitana still had your friends.

Upon returning to an empty home, you felt creeping in a sense of loneliness that you haven’t felt in a long, long time. The last time you felt like this, Barcelona had just won its first ever Champions League in the women’s club history, and you had gone home by yourself after a night out celebrating. Playing in a foreign country, you didn’t feel so isolated until you witness your teammates celebrating wins with their family, friends, and significant others. Your loneliness was short-lived though, as it was Aitana that came knocking on your door, wanting to stay with you. It was the night of your first kiss, and the night from which you hadn’t felt lonely ever since.

There hasn’t been a text or call from Aitana at all, and you knew you had fucked up big time.

“Can’t begin to say how sorry I am for the way I’ve been treating you,” you texted her. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll pick you up from Mapi’s and there will be love waiting for you at home.”

You spent the rest of the night watching TV, keeping your phone by your side at all times in case your girlfriend wanted to reach you, but the screen stayed black the entire time.

At Mapi and Ingrid’s, Aitana was laughing at something Mapi had said. The three women were slightly buzzed from the wine they had drunken earlier at dinner, and Aitana had felt lighter than she has the entire week. She saw your text as soon as it was sent to her phone, but opted not to response for her own peace of mind. Despite her heart still aching when she thought about the way you acted, she couldn’t help the little smile that made its way onto her lips reading it.

She will always be able to find it in her somewhere to love you, and she could only hope that you could do the same for her because she would rather go through thunderstorms with you than lie in a field of roses with someone new.

You jolted as you thought you might have forgotten the house keys when you walked up to Mapi and Ingrid’s. Patting your back pocket, you were quickly reassured that you had them with you, as you made a mental note of where everything was.

Ingrid opened the door for you with a smile, and invited you inside.

“Pretty flowers,” she said, gesturing at the large bouquet you had in your hands.

You smiled proudly and muttered a ‘thank you’. You eyes quickly found your girlfriend conversing with Mapi by the kitchen island, and your heart began beating wildly.

Her eyes landed on you, as you had half-expected a disapproving frown and her ignoring you to carry on her conversation. Instead, she offered you a smile and walked towards you.

“Hi,” you said. Attempting to say any more than that and you risked looking like a blabbering buffoon from the mess of a mind you had.

“Hi,” she mirrored your tone in a teasing manner. “Is that for me?”

“Oh, yeah. Here you go,” you handed her the bouquet and said goodbye to Mapi and Ingrid.

“Thank you,” you whispered to the both of them after Aitana had gotten into the car. The ride home was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You would look over once in a while, seeing her watch the scenery flash by through the window. At a red light, you gathered the courage to reach out and grab her hand. This elicited a giggle from the girl, as you brought her hand up to kiss the back of it just as the light turned green.

Aitana stopped by the door the moment she saw your apartment. It was spotless, everything was clean and tidy, and lit by the few lamps you had chosen to leave on, casting a warm glow over the entire place. The dinner table had been set like it belonged in a high-end restaurant, with a white tablecloth set perfectly across the middle and a few candles to highlight.

“I got antsy at home, so I decided to clean up a bit. Hopefully, it doesn’t look too sterile,” you laughed and scratched the back of your neck.

“No, it’s . . . it’s perfect.”

You smiled bashfully and offered to take the flowers for her. There was hesitancy in the way you stepped away from her to prepare the bouquet to put them in a vase like the distance might dilute this warm air between you. You didn’t want to be away from her for too long; you had suffered the past couple of days without her.

When you returned, Aitana was on the couch on her phone. From the way she instantly looked up from it as she heard you coming in, you reckoned she was nervous too. You placed the vase on the dinner table and took a seat next to her.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I know,” Aitana said, and stroked your head.

Taking a deep breath, you put your head on her lap, and tried to steady your breathing.

“I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you. You didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry for leaving you alone.” You spewed, trying your very best to form coherent words out of the thoughts that have been racing in your head for days. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. You’ve always been so good to me, and I hate myself for not doing the same for you when it mattered.”

Aitana was quiet, but from the way her breath trembled as she drew it, you could tell she was trying not to cry, and it made you tear up too.

You sat up and held her gaze. “I won’t let something that was out of my hands destroy us. I may not be able to control it when someone posts a picture of us, but I can control how I react to it.”

“What did Paolo say?” Aitana questioned.

“That we’ll win if we press charges, but I’m tired of letting this consume me. So I’ll let you decide whether we do or not.”

Aitana pursed her lips. “I don’t think it’s worth it. I’m sorry we weren’t able to tell the world about us ourselves, but I’m glad it’s out there now.”

You nodded and smiled at her, “I’m so sorry.”

Shaking her head, she pulled you into her chest. “I forgive you,” she planted a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my love. I love you so much. I didn’t want to burden you.”

You nodded, unable to hold back the tears this time. “Don’t be scared to talk to me next time. I’ll always be here to listen from now on.”

Aitana wiped her tears away, and nodded, bringing you in for a soft kiss. She whispered repeatedly how much she loved you, and you could only silently thank the universe for giving you the love of such a good woman.

You spent the rest of the evening in her arms as you discussed how things could be better in your relationship, and when dinner time rolled around, the two of you went into the kitchen to prepare food together.

At the end of the night, you posted a picture of Aitana on your Instagram story. ‘My love mine all mine’, you had captioned it, before putting your phone on silent. The mayhem was looming, but you may just have enough to power through the sudden limelight that was waiting to point toward you, and those hazel eyes made it all worth it.

[pupsmailbox]

Soda/orange/fanta/kidcore/drink/sweetvoice themed names?? Sorry if this is a weird suggestion, we've been looking for more names for me!! My current ones are in am attachment below :]]

here and here !! perhaps I'll make a soda/drink related list in the future !! also for fun heres some similars lists !!

Similar to Tommy:  ali. alice. alvin. amy. ari. ava. benji. billy. bobby. chad. charlotte. dani. demi. ella. emma. emmie. emmy. ernie. ethan. frankie. henry. hollie. isabella. jack. jaime. james. jamie. joey. justin. krystal. leo. liam. lily. louie. lucas. malik. mason. mikaela. molly. noah. oliver. ollie. perry. poppy. raleigh. reggie. rocky. ronnie. shawn. sonny. tahan. taimo. taj. tama. tamma. tammy. tana. tanya. tatum. tawny. teddi. teenie. teman. temi. terry. thameena. thanh. theo. theodore. theone. thian. thomas. tiimu. tim. timea. tina. tiyenna. toby. tom. tomai. tomo. tomoya. tomoyo. tonia. tony. tuan. tunu. tyme. william. + more

Similar to Bill:  abel. abiel. able. aidan. amelia. arthur. bahula. bail. bailey. bala. bayle. baylee. beale. beau. beil. beile. bel. bela. belah. belay. bell. bella. belle. bello. ben. benjamin. bernon. bernot. bertek. beulah. beyla. bilal. billie. billy. blu. blue. bly. boyle. brinleigh. brinley. bull. cain. caleb. cleveland. dahlia. daisy. ed. elesio. ethan. frank. georgie. glasgow. greene. greg. guss. henry. hillel. jack. jericko. killiean. kylar. lacrosse. liam. luke. marys. matthaeus. miami. miller. mills. mozes. narcisse. stella. summer. suse. will. william. wyatt. zoe. + more

Similar to Ollie:  albie. alfie. ali. alia. allie. amelia. ari. arlo. armani. augie. avi. briar. cali. charlie. charlotte. corentin. darby. dorcas. eli. elis. ella. ellie. emmett. evoni. finley. finn. freddie. harleigh. harris. henry. hollis. holly. ike. jack. joey. kali. karlie. kinsleigh. kinzley. leen. leo. leone. liam. lon. louie. malia. maraca. marlee. marleigh. marley. mcpherson. mel. milo. mollie. molly. myrtis. neera. neeva. nicolina. noah. nonya. ohela. ola. olai. olalla. ole. oleh. oliver. olivia. olya. oscar. owen. owl. oyewole. ozie. ozzie. pixie. raleigh. ruby. sahari. sunya. theo. theodore. tylda. violet. westyn. + more

[bitbybitwrites]

7. We're going to Fire Island. It's like gay Disney World. (Fire Island, 2022)

Glee (but open to RWRB if you’re more inspired that way!)

My apologies for the delay! Took me a bit to finish this one - because it kind of exploded into something longer than a ficlet!

Thanks again to @tailsbeth-writes for all the Ficlet Friday posts!

It can also be read on A03 here.

Enjoy!

****

Fire Island Follies

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, San.”

Santana looked over at her friend and smirked.  “Lookin’ a little green about the gills, Hobbit.  You ok?”

Blaine took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he clutched his duffle bag close to his chest.  The ferry was going through choppy water, and his stomach wasn't faring well at all.  No one could blame him; Blaine was from central Ohio and hadn't had much experience being on the open ocean.

He opened his mouth to respond, but unfortunately, at that moment, the boat hit a particularly large wave.   The sea vessel bounced so much that Blaine snapped his mouth shut quickly, clapping one hand over it.  Santana swore he looked even paler than he had a minute ago.

“Don’t you dare hurl on me, Anderson.  I will kill you if you ruin these shoes.”

A young couple and their kid moved away from where Blaine and Santana were sitting, looking at the seasick young man warily.  Blaine gave them a weak smile and wave as he peered down at Santana's open-toe espadrilles.

“Fancy footwear for the beach, don’t you think?”

Santana snorted as she wiggled her Burberry-clad foot at Blaine.  "I gots to look good for my sweetie.” She leaned over and poked him in the side.  He squawked and batted her hand away with a pout.  “Can you just give me a smile for once and not look like I’m dragging you to your death.” Santana pleaded.

The boat hit another wave and bounced up and down again.  “I feel like death,” Blaine said through gritted teeth. "Just kill me now."

“Oh, perk up, sunshine.  We're going to Fire Island.  It's like gay Disney World."

****

Blaine was grateful once the ferry finally docked, a vomit-free voyage, thankfully.   He gingerly followed Santana out onto the dock, breathing deeply through his nose as he willed for the ground to stop swaying.  They both wove in and out of the throng of visitors to the island, searching for. . .

“Tana!” an excited voice squealed.

Blaine stepped aside just in time as a blur of blond hair and bright color whizzed by him, only to launch themselves into Santana's arms.  Santana laughed as she caught a young woman in her embrace, swinging her about and then carefully placing her on the ground, kissing her gently.

“Hi, cariño," Santana said softly.  "Miss me?"

The other woman giggled and nodded.  "So much."  She turned and regarded Blaine with a questioning look.  "I'm sorry, and you are?"

“Um, Blaine.  Blaine Anderson.  I, um . . . I’m Santana’s friend.”

The blond grinned and leaned over to deposit a peek on Blaine's cheek.  She placed a small, brightly rainbow-colored string of beads around his neck.  "Oh yeah, Tana said you might come.  I'm glad you did!  Happy Pride!"

*****

Blaine sighed as he sat on the deck, looking out towards the sunrise.  It was gorgeous view, and Blaine would have thanked anyone who would listen for this brief respite of peace and quiet.  There was a whirlwind of activity once Brittany led them back to the house where they would all be staying for the week.  He had wandered outside earlier for with a book ( and thankfully his noise-canceling headphones) while Santana and Brittany celebrated their reunion very thoroughly and . . . loudly.

"You know, it's hard making out over Skype.  You really can't scissor a webcam." Brittany had confided to Blaine in a stage whisper earlier.  "I'm so glad to see her again since I'm working out here all summer."

Blaine had just smiled and nodded.  He was slowly getting used to Brittany’s. . . rather quirky personality.  She was one of the main reasons Santana dragged him onto this trip.  Brittany’s latest job was as a waitress and sometimes backup singer and dancer for the Fire Island Follies.

****

“You are coming with me, short stuff.  I will not accept no for an answer.” Santana had threatened a week before.  “My lady is out there. I miss her, and I think you would have a really good time.  Come on.  You're hot.  I'm hot.  The island will be overflowing with other gorgeous gays you could hook up with.  Live a little.  You might dress like a grandpa sometimes, but it doesn't mean you have to live like one."

****

The door to the rental home slammed shut as Brittany skipped outside, adorned in a rainbow tulle skirt and bikini top.  An intricate collar of rainbow beads lay aginst her neck while her body shone with glitter even in the setting sunlight.  A tiara of multicolored rhinestones peeked out from the top of her head as well.  "Are you ready?" she asked excitedly.  "Tana will lock up and meet us there.  She told me to bring you on ahead early.   We could use your help to set up if you're for it."

Blaine looked down at himself.  “Are you sure this is ok?”  He nervously looked at the sparkly black mesh tank top and teeny green shorts that Santana had thrown at him when he stepped out of the shower.

Brittany’s blond head cocked to the side, and she considered for a moment.  "As long as you're comfortable.  I think you're fine." She said with a grin.  "At least it's not the underwear party.  That's only for the guys, and I have a feeling you wouldn't be ok just running around in a jockstrap or speedo all night."

She dug into a pouch at her waist and fished out a small tube of rainbow body glitter.  Squeezing some on her fingertips, she rubbed it on Blaine’s cheekbones, smiling at the finished look.

“Perfect.”

*****

Cheerios was definitely not what Blaine had expected, either. 

First, the nightclub/cabaret space was run by a former drill sergeant wearing a black tracksuit (with appropriately rainbow stripes up and down the arms) named Miss Sue.  Secondly, it was probably the most rainbow-themed place he'd ever been to.  Colored arches adorned the walls, the floors, the cushions on the bar stools and seats, and even the cocktail napkins.  The staff wore tight, tiny rainbow-themed uniforms, some looking like cheerleaders or football players.  (Well, that could explain the name of the place)  As far as he could see, there were lots of skin, crop tops, booty shorts, and so much body glitter.

And the doors hadn’t opened yet for the public.

The aforementioned drill sergeant was holding court by the DJ station at the back of the club when Brittany and Blaine entered.  She brandished a clipboard and barked out loud via a megaphone she brandished in her other hand: "Porcelain, you're up next!  White Chocolate, you shake your booty after.  Then Starchild, we'll run through yours again if you want."

A chorus of “Yes, Miss Sue.” from across the bar soon followed.

Brittany squealed as she dragged Blaine over to the bar.  “Oooh, we get to see a couple of the new numbers before we open the doors." She shoved Blaine onto a cushy, multi-colored stool before she took off backstage.  "Stay here.  Gotta go see if anyone needs help backstage.”

Before Blaine could protest, she was gone.

Fiddling with the hem of his tank top, Blaine looked around nervously. He couldn't help but feel like he was intruding.

“Porcelain, Starchild, White Chocolate . . who are they?” he wondered aloud.

"Well, me, for one."

Blaine swiveled around on his bar stool to find a ridiculously good-looking guy in the tiniest gold booty shorts that he had ever seen staring back at him.

“I . . .I'm sorry . . . wh. . .what?" 

The bartender tossed a rainbow-colored bar towel over his shoulder and plunked down a glass of water in front of Blaine.  “White Chocolate.  That’s me, I’m saying.”

“That’s . . a, uh. .  . .a nice name . .”

The blond grinned, the body glitter shining very noticeably off his abs. 

Blaine seriously tried not to stare.

He did.

"Stage name," the bartender confided to Blaine.  "Used to have a partner called Dark Chocolate I worked with, but he went off and got him a boyfriend who didn't like him writhing on stage with little ole me.  Jake came up with the names.  He said we were both smooth and sweet, and it kind of worked cause he was, well, you know, African American and I'm . . ." he gestured again toward his glitter-encrusted abs.

Blaine swallowed and really didn’t stare.

Really.

He really, really didn’t.

“That’s . . . interesting . . .”

The glittering golden god laughed as he leaned over the bar. "I'm Sam," he said, extending a handout. I saw you came in with Brit. Are you a friend of hers?"

Blaine nodded, grabbed the water, and took a large gulp.  "Well, more like friends with her girlfriend, Santana."

Sam grinned.  "Aww, that's great.  I haven't seen Santana in a while.  She coming later?”

As Blaine nodded, the lights in the room suddenly dimmed, and a low, sultry bass line began to be piped in through the speakers of the club.  All of the workers stopped what they were doing to focus their attention on the main stage.  A spotlight held tight on a solitary figure who faced away from the audience.  The person held their hand up, and as they snapped their fingers along with the music, the spotlight pulled back slightly, revealing a luxurious black velvet robe. 

Blaine’s jaw dropped as the person began to sing: sultry and beckoning, their hands skimming their hips, which swayed hypnotically along with the music.

*****

Never know how much I love you

Never know how much I care

When you put your arms around me

I get a fever that's so hard to bear

You give me fever. . .

The performer turned his head, revealing a strikingly handsome face and piercing blue eyes.  The man smirked as he noticed Blaine, watching awestruck.  The singer rolled his shoulder, allowing the velvet robe to bare one beautiful shoulder as he winked saucily at Blaine.

Sam leaned over the bar, whispering smugly.  "And that, my good sir, is Porcelain, one of our other headliners."

“He’s beautiful, “ Blaine murmured softly as he continued to watch the other man own the stage, dropping the robe on a particular beat of the song to reveal some tiny black leather shorts and a delicate body harness of crisscrossing silver chains attached to a heaver silver chain collar.  With every shoulder roll and hip gyration, Blaine could see those chains softly caress the man’s toned abdomen.  The leather shorts made it very apparent that Porcelain was not lacking at all in . . . endowments.

Blaine had never been so jealous of an outfit before in his life.  He was absolutely entranced by this siren before him.

The devastatingly gorgeous dancer continued to sing:

*****

Captain Smith and Pocahontas

Had a very mad affair

When her daddy tried to kill him

She said, "Daddy, oh, don't you dare."

He gives me fever

With his kisses, fever when he holds me tight

Fever!  I'm his missus, daddy, won't you treat him right?

"Would you like to meet him?" Sam asked quietly.  "I'm sure Brit or I can introduce you if you want."

Blaine was now at a loss for words, just nodding mutely while his heart raced.  Porcelain had danced his way to a stripper pole to one side of the stage, spinning around it a few times before leaning backward and arching his back as he eased off his leather shorts, not missing a beat while he did so.

And Porcelain was looking and singing directly to Blaine as those shorts fell away.

*****

Now you've listened to my story

Here's the point that I have made

Boys were born to give you fever

Be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade

That’s it. 

Blaine was now officially dead.

Porcelain had a rhinestone-encrusted thong underneath those tiny shorts. As Blaine watched, the dancer kept singing while trailing his own fingers over his body, grazing his nipples, floating over his arms, down the arch of his neck.

*****

They give you fever

When you kiss them, fever if you live and learn

Fever!  'Til you sizzle

What a lovely way to burn . . .

Without warning, the audio track Porcelain was performing began to moan and speed up, rewinding and fast-forwarding erratically, breaking the hypnotic spell of the performance. Porcelain stopped all movements and stared out towards the DJ booth in confusion as the lights abruptly came up in the club.

“What the fuck?” Miss Sue bellowed.  “Someone get Zizes on the phone.  I don't care where she is or what she's doing.  Of all the goddamn times she decided to go on vacation, of course, it had to be today.  We need this shit fixed now.  We open in a few hours.”

Porcelain sighed as he retrieved his discarded clothing, slipping the velvet robe on and quickly disappearing backstage. 

Miss Sue stalked towards the bar, slamming her clipboard and megaphone on its surface.  She gripped the edge of the rainbow-patterned counter tightly,  so much so that Blaine could see her knuckles whiten even from his position a few stools farther down.

Without a beat, Sam quickly reached into a fridge under the bar and pulled out a large, ominous-looking black Stanley mug, passing it over to the club owner without a word.  Miss Sue took a giant slug of what was inside, a ferocious scowl darkening her features.

Many of the employees skittered away quickly to avoid her impending blow-up.

“Miss Sue,” Sam tentatively said as he cleared his throat.  “I, uh, I hate to be the bearer of more bad news . . .”

"What. Is. It. Now. . . " the cabaret owner growled.

"Sebastian won't be able to make it in tonight or for the rest of the week, actually," Sam quickly informed her.

“Where the hell is Sporty Spice gone to this time?  I need him and his goddamn lacrosse stick to work during the intermission.”

"Seb's found another Sugar Daddy, and he's taking full advantage," another voice chimed in.

Blaine spun around in his stool, only to find himself face to face with Porcelain.  Now out of his stage costume, the man was wearing sinfully low-rise, skin-tight jeans as well as a soft, light blue hoodie that was unzipped to reveal he was shirtless underneath.  Porcelain was sporting a set of toned abdominal muscles that Blaine wanted to reach out and touch.

"Last I heard, he was bragging last night that his new man was taking him to some mansion in the Hamptons for a week of fucking and all manner of excessive indulgence.  Clothing free."  Porcelain rolled his eyes as he accepted a glass of ice water from Sam.  "I'm not surprised he bailed on us today."

Sam frowned.  “But how the hell are we going to put on the follies tonight if we’re having technical difficulties?” he asked.  “I can do body rolls all night if you need me to, but it’s going to be odd with no music playing in the background.”

“Do we cancel?” Kurt asked Sue.

“We have never canceled a performance of the Fire Island Follies," Miss Sue shouted.  “It is not going to happen.  Not on my watch.”

Blaine swallowed.  He couldn’t believe he was going to do this.

“I . . . I could help.”

Miss Sue turned her sharp gaze at Blaine.  “Who the hell are you?” she barked.  "How the hell did you get in here anyway?"

"Blaine.  Blaine Anderson."  Blaine held out his hand to Miss Sue, who stared at it like the abhorrent item she felt it was.  He dropped it quickly and tried to smile reassuringly.

He wasn’t sure if it was working.

“He’s a friend of Brittany’s . .  .and Santana's." Sam piped up.

Sue sniffed, still not entirely impressed.

"And how can you help?" Porcelain asked as he trained a critical eye on Blaine, obviously just as skeptical of the newcomer as Miss Sue was.

“Can you play music?  Sing?” Miss Sue demanded.

“Y . .yes," Blaine stuttered.  "I can do both, actually, piano and guitar. It's what I do in Manhattan, actually.  It's my . . .my day job. Mostly gigs at The Duplex and Don't Tell Mama's."

“How long are you on the island for?” Sue continued her interrogation.

“Just the week,” Blaine reassured the club owner.

Sue stared at Blaine for a while; he couldn't say how long.  But the uncomfortable silence that stretched out while he found himself looked up and down seemed to go on forever.

“Up.” she barked at him finally.

Blaine slid off his stool while throwing both Sam and Porcelain confused glances.

“Turn.” she then ordered.

He did and then waited through another long silent patch from Sue as she made her deliberation:

“Hot Pocket,” Miss Sue ordered as she pinned him in place with a stare that quite honestly gave Blaine the chills.  “You’ll do.  You are to get your ass on stage and see what you can do with what instruments we have on hand.  Porcelain, work on your number first.  I want you to Fabulous Baker Boys the shit out of the song, you understand?”

"Yes, Miss Sue," the dancer nodded. He turned to Blaine, motioned towards the stage, and swiftly turned on his heel to walk towards it.

Blaine scrambled quickly after him.

“I’m Kurt, by the way," Porcelain informed Blaine softly as they walked out of earshot of the owner.  “You better be damn good, Blaine.  Or Sue will make you regret ever stepping foot in this club.”

“I am,” Blaine said, his heart racing.  “I am good.”

Kurt stopped in his tracks, turning quickly to face Blaine, who stopped moving as well.  A few quick steps and Kurt was mere inches away, his blue eyes darkening and staring at Blaine’s lips intensely.

“I like that.  Boys who are good for me.  Will you be good for me, Blaine?”

Blaine nodded, his breath caught in his chest.  It was dizzying being this close to Kurt now.  Blaine stared at the performer’s lips as well as they leaned in closer.

“I’ll see you backstage,” Kurt whispered with a smirk.  He turned quickly and sauntered up the steps of the main stage and through the curtain.

Blaine did not stare at Kurt’s ass as he left.

Oh, who the hell was Blaine kidding. 

He most certainly did.

****

NOTES:

I have a feeling that the actual Fire Island Follies is a men's only show . . but here in this fic, I wanted to include something for the ladies too - so Brittany's a performer as well.

Oh, and here in this fic, I kind of picture Sebastian doing a little lacrosse themed striptease act during their intermission of the show. Hence the "Sporty Spice" nickname. 😂

[besidebloomingirises]

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

Queer Books November 2023

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

❤️ The Pirate and the Porcelain Girl by Emily Riesbeck 🧡 Heading North by Holly M. Wendt 💛 The Wisdom of Bug by Alyson Root 💚 Trick Shot by Kayla Grosse 💙 A Holly Jolly Christmas by Emily Wright 💜 Outdrawn by Deanna Grey ❤️ Yours Celestially by Al Hess 🧡 The Christmas Memory by Barbara Winkes 💛 Violet Moon by Mel E. Lemon 💙 The Santa Pageant by Lillian Barry 💜 Only for the Holidays by Shannon O’Connor 🌈 Homestead for the Holidays by Wren Taylor

❤️ You Can Count on Me by Fae Quin 🧡 No One Left But You by Tash McAdam 💛 The Worst Thing of All is the Light by José Luis Serrano, Lawrence Schimel 💚 Today Tonight Forever by Madeline Kay Sneed 💙 Wren Martin Ruins It All by Amanda DeWitt 💜 Emmett by L. C. Rosen ❤️ Finding My Elf by David Valdes 🧡 Tonight, I Burn by Katharine J. Adams 💛 Gorgeous Gruesome Faces by Linda Cheng 💙 Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree 💜 A Power Unbound by Freya Marske 🌈 We Are the Crisis by Cadwell Turnbull

❤️ The Manor House Governess by C.A. Castle 🧡 You Owe Me One, Universe by Chad Lucas 💛 Last Night at the Hollywood Canteen by Sarah James 💚 Skip!: A Graphic Novel by Rebecca Burgess 💙 Something About Her by Clementine Taylor 💜 Touching the Art by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore ❤️ A Nearby Country Called Love by Salar Abdoh 🧡 Normporn: Queer Viewers and the TV That Soothes Us by Karen Tongson 💛 Sir Callie and the Dragon’s Roost by Esme Symes-Smith 💙 The Order of the Banshee by Robyn Singer 💜 Once Upon My Dads’ Divorce by Seamus Kirst, Noémie Gionet Landry 🌈 Forsooth by Jimmy Matejek-Morris

❤️ A Common Bond by T.M. Kuta 🧡 Risk the Fall by Riley Hart 💛 Just a Little Snack by Yah-Yah Scholfield 💚 Home for the Holidays by Erin Zak 💙 NeurodiVeRse by MJ James 💜 Dark Heir (Dark Rise #2) by C.S. Pacat ❤️ sub/Dom by Rab Green 🧡 Bitten by the Bond by Elaine White 💛 Heir to Frost and Storm by Ben Alderson 💙 The Sea of Stars by Gwenhyver 💜 Bad Beat by L.M. Bennett 🌈 Idol Moves by K.T. Salvo

❤️ Plot Twist by Erin La Rosa 🧡 In the Pines by Mariah Stillbrook 💛 The Crimson Fortress (The Ivory Key #2) by Akshaya Raman 💚 Only She Came Back by Margot Harrison 💙 Megumi & Tsugumi, Vol. 4 by Mitsuru Si 💜 Pritty by Keith F. Miller Jr. ❤️ Just Lizzie by Karen Wilfrid 🧡 An Atlas to Forever by Krystina Rivers 💛 Come Find Me in the Midnight Sun by Bailey Bridgewater 💙 Bait and Witch by Clifford Mae Henderson 💜 Shadow Baron by Davinia Evans 🌈 Day by Michael Cunningham

❤️ Livingston Girls by Briana Morgan 🧡 Delay of the Game by Ari Baran 💛 The Nanny with the Nice List by K. Sterling 💚 A Talent Ignited by Suzanne Lenoir 💙 A Kiss of the Siren’s Song by E.A.M. Trofimenkoff 💜 Rivals for Love by Ali Vali ❤️ Whiskey & Wine by Kelly Fireside, Tana Fireside 🧡 Buried Secrets by Sheri Lewis Wohl 💛 Ride with Me by Jenna Jarvis 💙 Living for You by Jenny Frame 💜 Death on the Water by CJ Birch 🌈 Merciless Waters by Rae Knowles

❤️ Vicarious by Chloe Spencer 🧡 Sapling’s Depths by Spencer Rose 💛 That French Summer by Sienna Waters 💚 System Overload by Saxon James 💙 King of Death by Lily Mayne 💜 Warts and All by Ashley Bennett ❤️ Principle Decisions by Thea Belmont 🧡 The Best Mistake by Emily O’Beirne 💛 Sugar and Ice by Eule Grey 💙 Until The Blood Runs Dry by MC Johnson 💜 Splinter : A Diverse Sleepy Hollow Retelling by Jasper Hyde 🌈 The Mischievous Letters of the Marquise de Q by Felicia Davin

❤️ The Queer Girl is Going to be Okay by Dale Walls 🧡 Til Death Do Us Bard by Rose Black 💛 Leverage by E.J. Noyes 💚 Alice Sadie Celine by Sarah Blakley-Cartwright 💙 Godly Heathens by H.E. Edgmon 💜 Gwen & Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher ❤️ To Kill a Shadow by Katherine Quinn 🧡 Warrior of the Wind by Suyi Davies Okungbowa 💛 For Never & Always by Helena Greer 💙 A Demon’s Guide to Wooing a Witch by Sally Hawley 💜 Heaven Official’s Blessing: Tian Guan Ci Fu Vol. 8 by Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù 🌈 A Carol for Karol by Ann Roberts

[liesmyth]

Any fiction recommendations? I’ve repeatedly read Locked Tomb, natch. I’d love something similarly brainwork inducing but maybe a touch lighter. Also not fantasy or sci fi…I need something to listen to while I do a ton of chores, and those can be hard (for me) because the unfamiliar proper nouns get confusing. :/

anon!! I'm terrible at reccing anything based on “if you liked TLT” because TLT is like five different genres in a trench coat, but I TRIED (⭐) Here are some brainworm-y recs that aren't sff — where by brainworm-y I mean that they stayed with me for a while after I finished them, but aren't overly confusing. (most of them are books, but available on audio)

Podcasts: a tumblr pal recced me the deviser based on me liking the eldritch elements of tlt; it's short and horror-y, and I really enjoyed it.

I haven't checked out the new TMA yet but I see many TLT peeps who are enjoying it (or S1 of the original The Magnus Archives could be a good entry point if you haven't ever listened to it)

TV: Unfortunately I hardly ever watch live action stuff BUT if you haven't seen either IWTV (the series not the film) or Yellowjackets, I do rec those! There's a lot of overlap between these fans and TLT fandom on my dash. His Dark Materials also goes hard and you might enjoy it (dysfunctional characters! worldbuilding! religious weirdness!) but it has more sff elements than other stuff I've recced. Oddball out of nowhere but The Great is a fun show if you enjoy the meme moments of TLT + people being gleefully horrible + having feelings despite your best intentions

Animanga: Utena (!!!!!) also Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, which occupies a very similar space to TLT in my brain

Books!

✧ I went through my “women unhinged” goodreads shelf and found some books that are avaliable in audio format, and might appeal. These are wildly varied in scope and ngl the criterion was just “at least one person (besides myself) who enjoyed tlt also this book” and the similarities stop there. It's all vibes baby! Still, I tried

my heart is a chainsaw by stephen graham jones (horror, slasher), bunny by mona awad (horror, wildly unhinged), the witching hour by anne rice (horror, gothic)

matrix by lauren groff (historical, lesbian nuns), anything by sarah waters (historical fiction + lesbians), rebecca by daphne du maurier (historical, gothic)

the plot by jean hanff korelitz (litfic, thriller), sadie by courtney summers (thriller, coming of age). anything by gillian flynn (thrillers with terrible women).

✧ I really enjoy Tana French thrillers for the strong sense of place, great prose, and the complete emotional turmoil of her character-centric narratives. If anything sounds up your alley, I enjoyed the witch's elm + dublin murder squad series. They're murder mystery procedural but the messy characters really elevate the novels. Available in audiobook also

✧ American Elsewhere, technically scifi but set in New Mexico. Somehow, cosmic horrors who have taken over a quaint little town and worse! They are enforcing HETERONORMATIVITY upon it! They also have tentacles. The main character rocks

✧ Sundial by Catriona Ward: insane, gripping psychological horror. A mother and her unsettling daughter take a trip to the isolate desert ranch where the main chracter grew up. Surrounded by unsettling science experiments

✧ A Touch of Jen by Beth Morgan: when the parasocial relationship is so strong, it accidentally summons a hellmonster from another dimension

✧ SFF adjacent, sorry, but set in the real world (historical, tho) — Cuckoo Song by Frances Hardinge, a middle grade novel with fairytale elements that gave me more brainworms than any kids book ought to, mostly because I LOVED the main character. She occupies a very similar place in my brain as Gideon does. This is actually the only book on the list that I'm not sure is available in audio format, but if you get a chance and it's up your alley, I'd check it out

I hope there's at least ONE thing you'll like in here! lmk (also. lmk if you don't have access to a way to borrow audiobooks but would like to)