#fic inspired by art

[seanchaidh7]

Nicolo di Genova - Prints etc.

A beautiful fic featuring this sexy model version of Nicky

[partyanimal167]

Dance with Me- Miguel x F!Reader

This total blurb got thrown together because I saw this beautiful art by @satoshiiarts (girl the way you drew him. the way i'd fold) and I needed to write something to calm this cat down so~

CW: fem reader, implied slight age gap, author knows some Spanish, hot fluff, afro Caribbean reader in mind

(A/N: before y'all get on my throat, I know bachata isn't Mexican, but New York irl is diverse so just follow me here and see the vision)

You somehow let your friend convince you to go out even though you worked the dinner shift. She made a good point saying that by the time you'd be off and arrived the clubs would be at it's peak vibes. You really just wanted to lay down and have a drink, but it had been awhile and even though you weren't going to a fete it would still be nice to let loose.

So you threw on that outfit that had been sitting in the back of your closet, grabbed your black mesh boots, took a shot for courage, and headed out.

There was a reggaeton-dancehall mash up when you and your friends arrived, and it immediately helped you relax. Your group found a spot to peek around--trying to decide on getting a drink or jumping on the floor. Drinks won, and first round was on you. Thankfully, the bar wasn't super crowded (no college kids), so it wasn't hard to get there. You two-stepped your way through, but accidentally bumped into someone who was reaching for their Modelo.

You gasped and placed your hand on the person's arm. "I'm so sorry! You didn't spill your drink, did you?" You absolutely hated when that happened--drunk people that needed to go home, but you were just a little clumsy tonight.

"Oh no need to worry."

Holy fuck. Holy fuck! Your brain short-circuited. You had to take a moment to breath, and prayed to God your eyes weren't bulging out of your head. The man was taller than you and gave you a soft smile despite the hard features. His cheeks were sharp. His eyes burned red. The gold of his earrings and necklace beamed when the club lights caught on it. The few gray hairs made your brain flash to dangerous places. The black dress shirt was filled, and you were so tempted to just steal a glance at whatever piece of chest you could get.

Say something! You giggled stupidly as your face was warming up, and you quickly turned to the bar hoping to have not looked like an idiot.

You shouted your order over the music to the bartender before patting your pants for your card. An arm reached passed you and placed a bill on the counter. "Here you go," the bartender took the money and went working on the drinks.

You tensed for a moment before turning and looking up at the man. Now he was grinning. "Uh, thank you so much." you smiled.

The man shrugged. "Here's your change, Miguel."

"No lo necesito." the man replied. You weren't sure what to say so you gave him your name. "Miguel, nice to meet you. Hanging out with your friends?"

Drinks starting getting placed in front of you. You nodded as you glanced at your friends who seemed to start feeling the music. "Yeah it's girls night."

The man raised his beer and winked. "Well have fun tonight, then chiquita." and he walked away.

Why is he leaving! You squeaked internally before grabbing the drinks ready to point out the man to your friends and get the night going.

...

You were feeling loose and happy. The night had taken a turn and the bachata mixes were starting up. Your friends were quick to partner up and get to stepping and swaying. You all moved throughout the floor, twirling before finding yourselves with a new partner and rhythm. It had taken you awhile to get to the point where you'd be okay dancing in public, but it had been in your blood and soon you embraced it. Most people kept it fun and light-hearted which was always nice.

You had found yourself alone for a moment and just as you were about to dance your way back to your seat, you felt a confident pull of your hips which had you leaning against someone's chest and a hand holding yours. They took the lead easily, and you took in how smoothly they stepped before spinning you and pulling your in close.

It took everything in you not to fumble your steps, but maybe the man noticed your bit of surprise and chuckle. "Is it okay if we dance?"

"Yes," you squeaked out.

Miguel grinned as he continued to move you around the floor. "Sorry, if I came across too forward. You just looked so good dancing. I wanted a turn." God, this man needed to stop talking. You were going to freeze up any moment if he kept going on with that voice of his. "I hope I'm a good enough partner for you bebita."

You laughed nervously and shook your head. "Oh more than adequate. I'm sure everyone wishes to switch places with me."

"Hmm, maybe the other way around. We probably look good out here."

"You certainly do." you replied with out thinking. "Oh wait, I-,"

"You flatter me." was all he said though you could tell he didn't necessarily disagree.

Soon enough, you got over your bit of nerves and continued dancing with the man. Though you would normally only dance with someone for a song or two, it quickly became three or four with Miguel. He was probably dancing just as long as you, and you were starting to get a little winded though you wouldn't let him escape again.

"Ah me olvidé, it's girl's night. Let me get you back to your friends, hermosa." the man paused by the wall and let go of your hands.

Not yet! You waved your hands. "I'm sure they're fine...unless you have someone you need to get back to then no worries!" you tripped over your words.

Miguel huffed a laugh and scratched the back of his head. "Eh not really. I came with my brother, but who knows where he is?" you both turned hearing your name called, and you saw your friends waving and whistling you on. Your face flared up. I'm going to kill them! The man could probably tell what was going on and smiled. "Hehe, go have fun tonight bebita and get home safe." he handed you a card before bringing the back of your hand to his lips and placing a kiss. "We'll dance again some other time."

Watching him walk away was only a little painful considering the view, but you silently cheered before going back to your girls to gush over the last hour.

You guessed it did pay to leave the house every now and then.

I actually wanna go dancing now that's crazy! But there's no Miguel for me to run into 😭😭😭😭

Thanks for reading!

border by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[chrxnicdaydream]

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Rating: Teen

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Word Count: 4.8k

Relationships: Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya

Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Soft Dazai/Chuuya, Partially Blind Dazai, Dazai Wears Glasses, Flirty Chuuya, Flustered Dazai, Light Angst, Caring Chuuya, Dazai Is a Mess, SKK Talk About Feelings, Ambiguous Relationships

Summary:

“Are you concussed?” The words left Chuuya’s mouth before he had time to think. Dazai’s eyes shot up to meet his as surprise, then confusion, flitted across his face, only to disappear as he bristled.

“Why would I be concussed? Maybe Chuuya is the one who hit his head.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Chuuya replied crossly. “Are you having a stroke? Do you smell toast?”

“What’s with the interrogation?” Dazai huffed, then whined, “Dates are supposed to be fun.”

“For the last time, this isn’t- oh, forget it.” Chuuya leveled Dazai with a narrowed, scrutinizing look. “What’s wrong with you today?”

OR

Dazai needs glasses but refuses to wear them… unless Chuuya can change his mind

read on ao3!

[sparklepocalypse]

Welcome to the day of the week that always challenges my ability to count to more than five and less than seven! Thanks for the tags, @kiwiana-writes, @getmehighonmagic, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @nocoastposts, @wordsofhoneydew, @firenati0n, @inexplicablymine, and @ninzied! ❤️

Today, instead of posting something from the Big Giant AU, I'm giving you six sentences from the beginning of the fic I posted to AO3 at roughly 2:30 AM today, which was inspired by @artofobsession's absolutely glorious new piece (which you should view and marvel at and maybe you, too, will instantly need to write smut about).

“Care to take a peek?” Looking around for the flight attendant, Alex leans toward Henry. “Are you asking me to…?” “See what’s through that door?” Henry suggests, and his face is transformed by a slow, deliberate smile. “And how well they did with the soundproofing?” “God I love you,” Alex breathes, and when Henry stands and casually heads for the back of the plane, Alex unbuckles his seatbelt and follows.

Wrap Me Up, Unfold Me [rated E | 4,324 words] After the Kensington confrontation, Henry gets on the plane with Alex. (Or, Henry and Alex join the Mile High Club in filthy, spectacular fashion.)

Relevant content warning for both the fic and the art that inspired it: minor breathplay.

Open tag as always! Yes, this means you.

[delta-pavonis]

Fic: All the World's a Stage

All the World's a Stage

Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 5.7k || Finished

dom!Dream, top Dream, sub!Hob, bottom Hob, possessive Dream, D/s, BDSM, established relationship, collar, ownership, corset, Dream in a corset, restraint, spanking, non-consensual voyeurism, sex in public, sex in front of an audience, a literally captive audience, orgasm denial, rimming, thigh fucking, intercrural sex, anal fingering, anal sex, praise kink, horse imagery, breeding imagery, breeding kink, bit gag, gag, size kink, a wee bit of monsterfucking (as a treat), questionable lube choices, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace, snowballing, oral sex, face fucking, aftercare, gratuitous Shakespeare references

"Everyone who saw you wanted you. In that suit. But then you decided to show off and then they all wanted to own you, too." Dream growled. "I could smell their daydreams. Taste their entitled, unimaginative little fantasies. How dare anyone even think of taking what is mine."

Hob stared up in wide-eyed awe, as the fury in Dream started to cause parts of his form to blur, his hair wafting away into shadow, his shirt evaporating into the ether, his eyes bleeding out ink that did not obey gravity.

"Tonight each one of their dreams – nay, nightmares – will be to watch as I reassert my claim to you. And each person will know, in their very marrow, that they will never, ever experience love with such fervor."

Just some porn inspired by three pieces of amazing fanart by @mayhemspreadingguy, @lucid-dreamling, and @messmonte.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Bes’laar

A DIN DJARIN X FEMALE READER DRABBLE

A/N: I know I have about 8 million wips just dangling in the wind right now but this scene popped into my head the moment I first saw this piece by @stealyourblorbos and it just demanded to be written. It’s very different than my usual style, but I had fun switching things up a little. Any and all feedback on this one is greatly appreciated!! (Bes’laar means music in mando’a.)

A/N 2: Jules, thank you for creating and sharing your incredible art with all of us. Your attention to detail and the way you capture so much life in your paintings is absolutely mind blowing. I tried to just be normal about this and leave a comment reblog but my brain said no so here we are. I hope you enjoy because this is all your fault 😉

Warnings: Naked Din Djarin. I repeat: Naked Din Djarin. Discussion of injuries/scars. This is actually quite tame

Word count: 1k

-- -- -- 

“That’s healing well.”

He snaps his head up from where he’s been bent over, toweling off. Your voice still startles him when it hits his ear directly. Not in a shrill or unpleasant way. He’s just used to it coming through the audio receptors in his helmet, the layers of it separated and analyzed, scanned for signs of deception or fear or heightened adrenaline. Not that she's ever lied to me. In truth, he has no idea what you look or sound like when you lie, helmet or no. It’s one of the things he admires most about you - one of the things that made him fall in love with you in the first place. 

The sound of your voice startles him the same way sunlight does when he reaches for something and a sliver of skin is exposed on his wrist between his sleeve and glove. Or when he tilts his head at a certain angle and raindrops hit the slice of his neck that peeks over the cowl of his cape. It’s like something his ears have almost forgotten, like a half remembered song, like music he doesn’t know the words to but that feels familiar. The sound is softer this way, warmer than it is when he’s wearing the helmet. Especially now in the fogged up ‘fresher, condensation beading on the mirror, the metallic fixtures, the plates of his armor that are stacked up off to the side of the faucet. Especially now, when he’s wearing nothing but a few stray droplets of water and you’re wearing nothing but that slate gray and obsidian robe. 

If there is shock etched into his expression when he sees you standing there, it's only at the realization that this is normal now. That he can show himself - all of himself - to you without hesitation or guilt or shame. That he can see you and hear you and feel you without barriers.  Because we said forever. If there was shock on his face it’s gone now, replaced with adoration, devotion, hunger.  

You step into the small space and he straightens up as you reach his side. The scent of your shampoo - or maybe it’s your lotion, he’s not sure, all he knows is that it’s intoxicating when it isn’t being filtered through his helmet - fills his nose as your fingertips come up to his left bicep, slipping over his still damp skin, following the shape of his freshest scar. His right hand finds your waist, thumb moving in an arch to bunch the silky fabric beneath it and he swallows hard. 

“It is,” he agrees when he remembers that you’re talking about the gash on his arm that you’d sewn up just a week ago.

“Does it still hurt?” Your free hand comes up to his temple, fingernails combing through his hair and over his scalp, and he thinks he might implode as you drag them back behind the shell of his ear. His thumb sinks more deeply into your flesh. If it still hurt he wouldn’t know. Not while you were touching him. But it doesn’t. It hasn’t since she took care of it.

“No.” He shakes his head and your lips twitch into a small smile that tightens his chest. “No, I can hardly feel it.”

“Good.” You lean forward and drop your lips to the edge of the wound, where the neat row of sutures stops, and he lets out a forceful breath that he knows you feel on the nape of your neck from the way that the hair there pricks up. 

At first he’d been worried about what your reaction to seeing the several scars he’d collected in his life would be. They’re …not pretty. Though a sparse handful of the oldest nicks and cuts that littered his body came when he was still being taught and trained by the Children of the Watch and therefore had been treated by hands other than his own, most of them had been inflicted much later in his life - when the Mandalorian had been alone. 

That meant that he’d sometimes had to patch himself up with his off hand, or by using a mirror to see what he was doing, or while trying to pilot his ship away from enemy fire. That meant messy stitches that left jagged scars, and while he knew there were plenty in the galaxy who would be turned on by the way they criss-crossed his torso and limbs, he only cared what you thought when you saw them. 

“Mind them? They mean that you lived, Din.” That was what you’d told him the first time you’d slept together, when he’d still needed to cover his face but could let you see the rest of him. “Every single one of these represents a time when… when you might not have made it. And then we never would have met.” You had kissed the most prominent one then, lips lingering over the raised skin. “So no, I don’t mind them. I love them.”

It had been early in your relationship but that was the moment that Din Djarin knew that if he was meant to be with anyone, he’d found that person. 

I found her. 

You lift your head and he finally brings his left hand to join the other at your waist. Toying with the tie that keeps your robe closed, he winds it around his pointer finger. “I was just finishing up in here. Drying off.” Another twirl gathers more of the sleek material and he tugs you closer, the sudden motion startling a surprised sound out of you. There it is again. His name leaves your lips as you place both palms flat on his chest. Like music. 

He grins, ducking his head so that he can speak right into your ear. “It’s going to be a while before we stay somewhere with a bed this big again.” He pauses to listen to the way your breathing hitches when you catch his meaning. “We should put it to good use.” 

-- -- --

thank you for reading! if you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please feel free to let me know! You can also fill out the form attached to my masterlist. :) 

tagging:  @something-tofightfor @gollyderek​ @pheedraws​ @beautifuldesastre​ @alraedesigns @valkblue @fific7  @commanderlola @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @marauderskeeper @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @hp-hogwartsexpress @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @xasement

[topsyturvy-turtely]

Fluffbruary with turtely

(missed days edition)

Day 26

[day 25] [day 27]

prompts: ice | beautiful | night by @fluffbruary <3

fandom: BBC Sherlock

will be uploaded to "That Stuff Called Fluff" on Ao3!

A/N: mainly inspired by the absolute amazing, lovely, kind, sweet, beautiful, lovely, heartwarming [insert all other positive adjectives to describe a person here] @justanobsessedpan - AN ABSOLUTE MUST FOLLOW BLOG!!! Arie drew this amazing art about a year ago and i was IMMEDIATELY inspired to write something based on it. i did NOT forget it... i'm just slow. thank you, bestie, for letting me use your art this way! here is the perfect perfect drawing (tap for better quality):

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

"Ah, fudge!", John said, facepalming. They had just walked back into the changing room after their ice-hockey training.

"What's up?", Mike asked.

"Forgot my helmet at the rink. I'll be right back!"

John rushed out, grabbed his helmet from the bench right next to the ice, straightened up and-

dropped the helmet. It bounced a few times on the ice. It made loud thuds.

"Watson! You alright?", a voice from somewhere on John's left hand side yelled.

"Yeah, Greg, just forgot my...", John's eyes were fixed on the boy on the ice rink. It was a figure skater. A really beautiful figure skater. "Um..." His skating was... beautiful. His face was beautiful. In fact everything about him was beautiful. "My uh..."

The skater finished a flawless pirouette, in a half sitting position, his leg stretched out. How is that even- Wait- why did he stop- oh my god. Is he coming- what- wait that's-

"Your helmet?", the figure skater asked with a kind smirk on his lips. A kind smirk?! What the hell is a kind smirk?!

"Sorry- what?", John asked, after his brain finally registered that the figure skater had said something.

"You forgot your helmet?"

"I- uh... Yeah- I-", John let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He half recognized Greg smirking at him, bemused.

"Do you wanna go-", a side glance at his friend proved his suspicion. He didn't care. "On a..." Damn, this guy has gorgeous eyes. John gulped. "Date? With me?" Where did that question come from?

The boy raised his eyebrows. "Is that it?"

"Is that what?", John countered.

"We only just met. And we're gonna go on a date."

Oh, shit. He hadn't been thinking. He had just spoken. Come on, Watson. Get a grip! Confidence! Confidence is everything! "Problem?", John asked, feeling himself grin (hopefully convincingly).

The skater bandied looks with Greg, bemused as well as amused. He shifted his weight on one hip, then looked John up and down. "We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting. I don't even know your name."

Oh, right. Awkwardly John fumbled with his helmet, stuck it under his left arm, so he could extend his right, "John Watson. Speedy's. Tomorrow night at six P.M.?"

The boy shook his hand, with a suspicious eye. "Sherlock. And fine. But only because you're cute when you're flustered."

"Why- I am not-"

"See? Cute. See you tomorrow.", and Sherlock glided off the ice. There was a certain swing in his hips that made John drop his eyes...

"What. on earth. was that?", Greg asked with a disbelieving chuckle.

"That, Greg", John sucked in a breath. "Was me realizing, there's no way in hell I am straight." John said, still staring at the door through which the beautiful figure skater had left.

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

A/N: this was so fun to write! i love reusing/ scrambling up quotes from the show :P hope you liked this too! again please follow justanobsessedpan, promise you won't regret it! (feedback as always very welcome!)

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed💚) @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @pansherlock @the-smol-bean-libby-blog @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @almosttinycowboy @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @psychosociogentleman @quickslvxr @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @johnlock2708 @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence

[sugarbunbie]

Please have my 2023 MDZS RBB fic inspired by @travelingneuritis's gorgeous, unforgettable art and deliciously angsty prompt --

the late hum by the river

WWX dies mid-golden core transfer

JC/WQ have sex for medical purposes

Rated E, wc 23k

Expect: angst, grief, humour, healing

CW: gore, blood, viscera, dubcon, multiple character deaths, violence, etc. (mind tags)

[peachpety]

Deadheading the Odd Dahlia, by peachpety

Inspired by the gorgeous art of @beyondtheclose

Harry/Draco Reverse Bang 2022, E, 8.7k exactly

Florist Draco & Smitten Harry 💐 Romantic Fluff & Autumn Vibes 💐 Farmers Market & Soft Pining 💐 Cottagecore & Language of Flowers 💐 Draco Navigating the Muggle World on a Baby Blue Moped

“You could stay at the Manor,” Draco blurts. “I mean”—he twirls the wine stem in his fingers—“not the Manor proper. But Rose Cottage would suit.”

A hush blankets the table, save for Luna scraping a knife full of butter over her toast.

Harry chews his eggs carefully. He takes a bite of bacon and washes it down with a big gulp of wine. Alarm bells sound off in his brain. There are many reasons why living with Draco is a bad idea, first and foremost being his small crush, insignificant really. Although technically he wouldn’t be living with him, but nearby, almost on top of each other—

“Yes,” Harry says. “That’s…I’ll move into Rose Cottage. Thanks.”

Harry is content to spend his days at Draco’s flower stall at the farmers market, burying his true feelings in artisanal coffee and rose bouquets. When forced to find new lodgings, he accepts Draco’s offer to live in a cottage at Malfoy Manor, and his long-hidden crush blossoms out of control. Turns out, proximity makes the heart grow fonder.

💐 @beyondtheclose art & claim post 💐 HDRB post 💐

FIC & ART ON AO3

[avenueofesc]

Beneath the Cloak

Rated M for Violence. 31.2k.

Inspired by @apriicat’s stunning artwork. Written for the @harrydracobang Reverse Bang.

Content/Warnings: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Harry Potter EWE, Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Bullying, Sectumsempra Scars, Wounds, Injuries, Beatings, Attacks, Brief Hospitalization, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Pining, Anyone Can Wear Skirts, Homophobic Slurs, Hints of Homophobia by a Side Character, Ensemble Cast, Background Relationships, Rated for Violence, No Smut

Summary/Teaser:

Footsteps echo through the corridor, though they seem to hesitate, slowing until they stop directly in front of him. Draco can practically feel the presence of this other at his side. He groans, using all of his strength to raise his head and open his eyes, to see…

Nothing.

Author’s Note: Thank you to the best cheerleaders I could ever ask for, @orange-peony​​ and @bubble-gumhead​​. I don’t know if I would have been able to write this if it were not for your love and support, your unwavering encouragement and belief that I could do this. I cannot begin to express how much you both have meant to me along this journey, I truly can’t. 

Many thanks to @dewitty1​​ for being an amazing Alpha, for helping to reign me in when I needed to be, and guiding me when I got lost. Thank you to @gracerene and @writcraft​, for being brilliant mods throughout this entire process. 

All of my love and thanks to my misfits. I love you losers.

To my extraordinary beta, @m0srael​. I cannot begin to describe just how much you have done for me. When I struggled to find the right words, you took my hand and led me to them. You were encouraging and made everything I wrote so much better. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart! The care that you took when editing Beneath the Cloak is beyond compare, and I will forever be grateful to you.

And finally, to @apriicat​​. I was stuck in what felt like an unrelenting cycle of writer’s block. Even though I had things I wanted to write, stories I wanted to tell, I had no inspiration or motivation to do so. And then I saw your art, and it sparked something in me again. So thank you for creating such a brilliant piece of art that reminded me why I love this pairing and why I love writing about them. I hope I did your art justice.

Read the fic and view the art on AO3.

[namistrella]

Salt and Sweet

For @amywaterwings

Based on this stunning art by @aurigaearts

Summary:

It thrums, this thing between them. Sticky heat, sticky skin, sticky feelings.

Victor/Yuuri, 800 words, complete, rated T

Read on AO3

[radioducky]

Inspired by the fighting scene from Ch. 6 “Of Saints and Sinners” by @morningstarwrites 📻🍎

[californiatowhee]

old fashioneds and tipsy daydreaming

bonus: the subsequent drunk texting

extra bonus, if you made it this far: what happens next, in fic form (spoiler: Phoenix and Miles kiss)

Behavioral Phenomenon | Phoenix/Edgeworth | 2.5k

[persnickety-doodles]

Top or Bottom? by @appalesbian

Big thanks to everyone for your patience on this one! We’re bursting with excitement to finally share this collaboration with you!

This idea was something that was marinating in my notes for a few years now, and @appalesbian had a similar concept she had been eager to write about. So, we combined our powers!

Please, check out the companion piece! She nails this vibe and adds a bit more flavor that wraps everything up so perfectly. It’s extremely satisfying, and you won’t be disappointed!

[sugarbunbie]

Please have my second rbb inspired by @clarinda0110's gorgeous Zhuiling art --

darling, it's called a coming of age

Zhuiling gets together

amidst someone trying to usurp JL's sect leadership

Expect: h/c, shameless background WX, smut, political intrigue

Rated E, word count 18k