#my wip fic

[venusbyline]

guys i promise that someday i'll really write an AU/crossover fic about female reader or female OC in a throuple with Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) and Will Graham (Hannibal)

[jesterjazz-creates]

I keep seeing fanart of Brucie interacting with My Adventures of Superman Clark and I need them to interact and if I can't see them interact I'm making them interact

[neonovember]

Do you have a request WIP we can take a peek at?🫣🤭

oh you know i do

You aren't jealous.

You have never experienced the slimy green devil in any of your past relationships, so you shouldn't feel it now.

Your mind isn't fond of what it should feel however, and instead, you feel a burning ache begin to burst through your chest as you watch Carmen nod excitedly at Claire in the Beef’s front dining space. It disgusts you, how this feeling wraps around your heart like sludge. You've been trying to focus on prepping for the new menu, gathering different ensembles of compotes and sauces, but your eyes always finds it’s way back to them.

And her.

Claire had burst into Carmen’s life seemingly out of nowhere, and it took one exchange between you both to know it was different. Claire had something you didn't with Carmen, a past, and the discomforting feeling of being on the outside looking in was all that blared in your mind the past few weeks since her appearance.

It wasn’t like Claire was rude, no that would have made this feeling easier to bear. She was nice, for god sake. The only person in Chicago who it seemed had not yet gotten all their goodness sucked out, and she had to have been Carmen's old friend. And a friend was all she was, so why did you- why are you jealous?

She knows him better than you do.

You shake the thought out of your mind so furiously the container in your hand spills onto the cutting board. You weren't going to go there, not when Carmen hadn't done anything wrong. You wanted him to have friends, to broaden his circle from beyond just the Beef and Sugar, who you made sure to point out didn't exactly count. So you should be happy, ecstatic even, that he was able to reconnect with someone that had known him for so long.

But she had known him for so long. 

And you know you're being irrational and hypocritical and you know you can’t own someone else, but maybe there was a part of you that liked that you had him all to yourself.

Carmen was different. To your other relationships, your other friendships, everything. You and Carmen danced around your feelings for so long that when it exploded into heated kisses and confessions of love one night after a dazzling dinner service, it had already felt like you had been with him for years.

And Carmen was devoted to you, he sang it into your skin every chance he got. It was just that those chances had begun to dwindle day after day the more Claire came around, until you had begun to detest the sound of her name leaving his mouth.

The squealed sound of Claire rips you from your reverie, and your eyes shoot up to catch her grip Carmen's shoulder, her head tilted back and eyes squirmed shut in laughter. The ripple of jealous rage that bursts through every limb in your body causes you to drop the knife in your hand and rush through the inquisitive shouts of Richie and Syd, until you hear the slam of the backdoor behind you.

Your leg jitters as you walk around in circles, grinding your jaw as visions of Claire and Carmen flash in your mind. Fisting the washcloth in your hand till your knuckles turn white, you stuff your face into it, masking the scream of festered anger that rips from your throat. 

You’re pathetic, you don't get to feel jealous. Carmen would never even think of it, of betraying you, and yet angry tears gather at your waterline despite. Your heart feels as if it's going to shatter and take you tumbling down with it, when have you ever felt this way?

You hate it, you seethe as you're forced to sit in it and make room for it in your mind. It takes over, overcrowding your mind till you can't hear anything else, where even the buzzing of your phone is unregistered till your thigh begins to itch.

Wiping a hand across your face, you reach down to grasp the metallic slick edges. And the image of Luca flashing across the screen stumps you frozen till it rings out. You hadn't seen him since Denmark, in fact it had been years.

The ping of a text shakes you from the memories of spending months on boats and pastry kitchens in Copenhagen, the gray bubbles appearing on your screen.

“Gonna be in Chicago for a bit, wanna test out if your Mille-Feuille is still up to standard?”

[everparanoid]

Headteacher! Wriothesley Moodbood

Fic: Since September

Headteacher! Wriothesley x Single parent Female! Reader

Rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

ongoing word count: 30.8K

tags: fluff, smut, angst

cw: One Night Stands, Feel-good, Strangers to Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Weddings, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Dating, Minor Original Character(s), Private School, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe, Billionaires, breast worship as always, Semi-Public Smut, Bathroom Smut, Finger Sucking, Thumb-sucking, Blow Jobs, Breast Sucking, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Original Character(s), Your daughter is an OC, PWF, there are temporary crackships in here, beidou/clorinde crackship for like a blip, Reader is Not Traveler (Genshin Impact), No use of y/n

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that when it comes to men, you are colourblind. When a one-night stand with Wriothesley (a handsome stranger and certainly not your daughter’s new headteacher) evolves into a charade of fake-dating him - all in the name of getting your friends off your back and not looking as alone as you are at your ex’s extravagant destination wedding - you realise you’ve reached an unprecedented low. “The night is young. We are both free. What could possibly go wrong?” he asked. Tags will be updated with each chapter.

Yes, this is the fic spawned from that one line in the archon quest when Wriothesley mentions parent's evening.

my ao3: Everparanoid

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15...

status: ONGOING

masterlist

Reblogs w/ tags and comments are very much appreciated! If you enjoyed this, feel free to consider dropping a follow as well! <3

Also, if you like my writing and wish to support me, please consider funding me a Welkin via Ko-fi!

[demonvampire180writes]

Several Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the ever amazing @jamieroyjamieroy

I'm not going to lie, I didn't have anything prepped for this that I haven't already posted, but here's something I'd like to work on. Enjoy.

-x-

“So maybe we both have daddy issues.”

“I don't.” 

“But you think I do?”

“God I hope so.”

Buck swallowed hard and grinned, hoping that his face didn’t show how hot that had just made him. Tommy looked at him with a smug little quirk of his lips as he took a deep sip of his wine, and Buck had to break eye contact before his ears began to steam like an old fashioned train. Under the table Tommy brushed his foot casually up and down his shin - not salaciously, more just for the contact - but Buck was already worked up. He had to strain really hard to not squirm. Never before had any of his past girlfriends made him so giddy so easily. Sure, Taylor was always up for a romp in the bed, but whenever they sat down for dinner, that’s all it was. Buck didn’t feel the need for subtle flirting, or casual touches.

He had liked her, maybe even loved her, but it was nothing compared to feeling like a fifteen year old boy with his first crush again.

The rest of dinner was a more subdued affair as they veered away from heavier topics. Tommy told Buck about the Mustang he’d been working on restoring after buying it dirt cheap. It had been in complete shambles, more parts missing than there, but Tommy was bringing it back to life. Last time Buck stopped by, he’d sat in the garage as his boyfriend worked under the hood, sipping on one of his fancy craft beers.

[jamieroyjamieroy]

It’s nearly 10.30pm do I stay up and edit my bucktommy fic and possibly post the new chapter tonight or do I sleep like a normal person and do it tomorrow? Fresh eyes and all that?

[larvasmoon]

Snippet Sunday

Thank you for the tag @roguishcat and @lady-vincent <3

It was a bit of a struggle to find something from the next chapter of Portrait of the pale elf that is not too much of a spoiler, but here's a very small snippet!

No pressure tags: @karinamay @anacdoce @inkymoonbunny @bardic-inspo if there's something you'd like to share <3

[morallygreyintrovert]

My view for the day, finishing chapter 9 of my wip.

Cas and Dean in the background just causally hanging out.

[soliblomst]

When We Were Angels || Drarry || WIP

At the age of five, Draco knew Harry would be his best friend.

At the age of seven, Draco asked Harry to stay with him forever.

At the age of ten, Draco’s world crumbled after being taken away from Harry.

—Or,

On Halloween 1981, two babies were brought to Woldvale Orphanage: the son of a Death Eater and the Boy Who Lived. Despite all logic and expectations, the two of them end up forging a bond that would cross the tides of first love, growing up and apart.

READ HERE

I'm finally back with another long Drarry fic! What a journey… and I’m lucky enough to share it with my lovely beta, @pl0tty ❤️

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

Finding Beauty in Darkness

darkness, to me, isn’t just a setting or a mood; it’s a crucible where truths are unveiled and the weight of pain strips away pretenses, exposing what truly matters. my stories don’t shy away from this space; i embrace the grief, fear, and anger because it’s in these moments of raw vulnerability that i discover glimmers of resilience, defiance, and hope.

pain isn’t a destination in my works; it’s a journey. loss isn’t a void; it’s a transformation. in Tenebraethia, when the triplets face their mother’s death, their mourning isn’t despair; it’s growth. each triplet copes differently: Eirynia channels it into determination, Eiryls into introspection, and Eivey into justice. their pain binds them, reshapes them, and propels them forward.

beauty in darkness emerges through contrast. a barren battlefield, scarred by war, becomes a canvas for unexpected acts of kindness—a soldier shielding an enemy child, a forgotten hymn rising from the lips of the dying. these moments are not saccharine; they are hard-won, emerging from the stark reality of suffering. they remind me that even in the most harrowing conditions, humanity persists.

the shadows in my worlds aren’t simply voids; they’re rich with texture and meaning. they were created to test faith, forge courage, and redefine love.

consider the local blacksmith of Tenebraethia, who crafts weapons to honor her fallen family. every blade carries her grief and hope that they’ll protect others from her fate. in the dimly lit workshop, she hammers away at the metal, infusing each weapon with a piece of her soul. the swords and shields she creates are not just tools for battle; they are symbols of her strength and resilience. as the sun sets and the shadows grow longer, the blacksmith's creations stand as a testament to the power of love and sacrifice in the face of darkness.

through this lens, darkness becomes a source of strength for my writing! it serves as a proving ground where all my characters—and myself—discover our true capabilities. my stories don’t ask to ignore or diminish pain; instead, they challenge us to confront it. and within that, i hope we all find the seeds of something worth fighting for.

even in the deepest shadows, there is beauty to be found—not despite the darkness, but because of it.

[venusbyline]

Sneak peek of my new smut one-shot 👀

Aemond Targaryen x brothel worker!reader

He did not want to hurt his mother's feelings, he did not want her to look at him with the same look of disgust she gave her eldest son. He wanted to keep making Alicent proud, being her beloved son. But Aemond had already failed with her the moment he decided to act like a spiteful boy and chase Lucerys through the skies. Now that he was a Kinslayer, his mother would fear him. She would be ashamed of him. I would see him as a murderer, cursing their whole family forever. And if Aemond could not seek love from the only woman who would take him in her arms and caress his hair, then he needed to find a replacement. An older woman who could make him feel safe and loved again.

[patolemus]

Wip (not) Wednesday

thank you @dontcallpanic for tagging me!! once again i am not doing this on wednesday lol. i unfortunately don’t have anything new from my time travel au because uni is kicking my ass right now and stiles is being unsurprisingly uncooperative but i know how much you love my demon!stiles au so… surprise?

Stiles loves dead bodies.

Okay, that sounds wrong. Stiles doesn’t love dead bodies, because he’s a demon, not a sociopath, and he actually does feel bad when people die. But dead bodies found in suspicious manners usually mean a murderer, and a murderer means a mystery. And Stiles oh so loves his mysteries.

Would he like for his mysteries to be murder-free? Oh, absolutely. Stiles is an asshole, pretty ruthless and more cruel than he probably should be—given the position of power he finds himself in as part of the problem-solving team in this town—but it’s not like he wants for people to die. It’s just that no one ever listens to him until they have a body.

So even if he feels bad about it, he can’t help the small thrill that runs up his spine when his stolen police scanner picks up an 187 alert. He’d been getting a feeling that something was going on lately—because honestly? Something is always going on in Beacon Hills, so when things are quiet for more than a couple of months, Stiles starts preparing for an epic smack down of apocalyptic proportions in his near future. And now that they finally have a dead body, the rest of the pack can’t chalk up his intuition as paranoia anymore.

Someday, he’ll get them to listen to him without question. But today is not that day, so he’ll have to make do with a dead body in the preserve, because it’s always a dead body in the preserve. One would think this town would have learned to leave the woods alone at this point.

Then again, they’d probably have to close the high school, too. And the hospital. And the Sheriff’s station.

And Derek’s loft.

So they get a lot of dead people in their sleepy cursed town. So what? It’s not their fault that there is an evil magic tree that attracts back luck and malicious intent like it’s going out of style.

this can either be the best idea i’ve ever had or completely blow up in my face. expect me in your dms freaking out about this at some point. no pressure tags for @kittykatstiles @fuji09 @oldefashioned (for when you're feeling up to it and only if you want to!!) @dear-massacre @hedwig221b @salty-fryingpan @novasillies and of course @dontcallpanic again, let's keep the cycle going! sorry y'all that i tagged again feel free to ignore me lol. and of course whoever wants to do it, got for it!

[seafloor509]

untitled #02, ch. 1 (wip) - s.7

— TRANSMISSION START —

“This is day… uh, 509?”

The screen crackled to life, and the focus settled on one man: a brown-haired young man, athletic of build, with a defined jawline and deep brown eyes. He was calm and collected, showing no sign of his inner emotion.

The morning was bright, and the man was drowsy, as if he hadn’t slept at all. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, then spoke again.

“This is Clan Delta, day 509. Didn’t get any sleep last night, as usual. Clan Kappa is still close by, and I don’t want to risk going out and getting food out of fear of running into them, so…”

“Someday soon, Vasu, we’re gonna have to,” a voice from off-camera said. “We are running low.”

The man on-screen, Vasu, turned around to face the voice. “Well, that’s something we’ll face when we have to. As it is, we have enough food for a couple more days, and Clan Kappa is pretty strong,” he reasoned.

He turned back to face the screen. “So, we’ve established that. Anything else y’all want to say, or can I turn this thing off and attack the day?”

A murmur of consensus.

“Alright, then.” Vasu reached toward the transmission device, flipped a switch, and the screen went black.

— TRANSMISSION END —

——————————————

Vasu waited until the camera was completely shut down, then calmly headed toward the door of the shed and shut it. He then went around to each window and boarded it off.

Once the shed was completely sealed off, and not a soul could get in, Vasu quite frantically whirled around to face the entirety of Clan Delta. His calm attitude had completely vanished.

“Now that we’ve given the Sovereignty the crap they want, let’s get cracking. Mike, do you have the real location of Clan Kappa? And not that bullshit about where they ‘publicly say they are’,” Vasu asked, quite agitatedly.

In the corner of the shed, a young man with dreadlocks said, “They’re about 20 kilometers to our east.” He was hunched over a laptop, typing furiously.

“Great,” Vasu said, satisfied. “And Francisco, you have the gear, right?” A man sitting by the door affirmed, “All of it. The weaponry, the camoflauge uniforms… I have all of it.”

“Even better,” Vasu exclaimed. “And you know what the plan is, yes?”

“We attack from a distance. No kills, but an injury is okay. Just let them know they aren’t the only lions in the forest,” the rest of the clan said back to him.

“Excellent.” Vasu was pleased things were going well. “Remember, small victories for now. If a big opportunity presents itself, we take it. But for now…”

“Small victories,” the clan finished.

And with that, they packed up and headed out, ready to accomplish their mission.

What they didn’t know was that a big opportunity was close to presenting itself. Very close, in fact.

————————————————————

By the time the clan caught sight of Clan Kappa, noon had struck. Therefore, Delta wanted to speed up their expedition so they could have time to hunker down and plan.

They all crept further through the woods, to the point where they could make out the facial features of the individual people in Clan Kappa.

“Ready?” a soft voice whispered.

“Always,” came the reply, equally soft.

Vasu glanced at the lead man, and a gaze of a few seconds was held. Through that gaze passed a lifetime of brotherly emotion and overall sorrow at their situation.

Clan Delta had been together for a long time, and each of its members came to develop strong bonds between each other. In a nation where the government collapsed on its citizens, and the whole country morphed into a madhouse of military power and rivaling factions, the brotherhood and love between Clan Delta was never lost, never compromised. Even in their situation, the power of relationships still remained.

The lead gunman nodded, breaking their eye contact to do his duty. He raised his gun, steadied it on his shoulder and knee, leaned down and put his eye to the scope, and without a moment of shakiness, fired.

The next moment seemed to infinitely slow down. Even though it happened in a split second, every single member of Clan Delta watched on. Each of their eyes seemed to follow the bullet as it exited the barrel and shot forward, soaring straight toward its target. It barely grazed its mark, and yet every single person knew that was the intention. No kills, but an injury is okay.

From the distance came a shout of pain, followed by the sounds of frantic running. No one had been killed, but Delta’s point had been made. Everyone in the clan breathed a sigh of relief, and they made their way for home.

However, a strange sight awaited them.

Their shed looked like it had been broken into. The doors were wide open, and the window was smashed through. All of their spare weaponry had been raided and taken, and the spare gear was also stolen.

On top of that, whoever broke into the shed left a note on the table.

It read:

“Clan Delta,

We know everything you’re doing. Those lies on your daily log, that little stunt with Kappa…

You have NO IDEA what we can do to you.

Just watch yourself.”

———————————————————————

and thus ends chapter one! hopefully you liked it; it is a work in progress, so I will be coming back and editing it, but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE give me feedback and tips. hflsjdknjflnjvfdkjsldfv I am in dire need ;-;

chapter two coming soon!!

[sovlstr]

Sneak peak of a fanfic for my selfship! It’s a Maria x Mafiafell Sans wip

I consider myself a novice writer but hopefully I could deliver some quality reading PSPSPSSPS

——————————-————————————

Sans watched in silence as Wingdings unclasped one of his many gaudy gold rings, the ruby top shining as a small white pill dropped into the glass from the undone latch- making a plop as it dissolved inside the crystal clear sparkling water. Wingdings did everything accordingly, every action done to be taken with a purpose. And so, Sans wondered, with his eyebrows raised and mouth opening to speak- what was Wingdings planning? The quiet brother shot Sans a soulless stare, making quick work of silently telling sans to shut the fuck up. Sans simply grifted his teeth, before lowering his eyes back down to his plate as he considered Wingdings actions. Surely he wasn’t trying not poison Maria, at least, not in front of Sans. He’d never seen Wingdings do that though- poison an obvious ally. Unless he knew something he didn’t know. About Maria.

He cleared his throat, forcing down the potential thought with a visible grimace. Wingdings continued to smoke his cigar, reasserting the comforting smile on his grim features as Maria click clacked her way back to the dinner table, gesturing at the brothers with a respective smile.

Sans tried to keep his soul from thumping, that stupid agonizing scent of his minty cigar wafting around the sitting trio. Even if he knew she wouldn’t notice, and even though both papyrus and Wingdings knew he was romanticly involved….. If he had to see that smug chastising grin on Wingdings face once he realized just how blind he was for this woman….

He’d never hear the end of it.

Maria wrapped some spaghetti around the silver fork, keeping her eyes low as she ate the dinner in silence. It was awkward, but not for the reasons she was aware of. Sans felt himself gulp, trying his damn best not to make eye contact with any of the dinner tables audience, Papyrus simply enjoying his meal and blatantly ignoring the grating fact that Wingdings had just potentially poisoned sans little lady.

Maria turned her sight onto the oldest brother, speaking in a low tone as she finished chewing.

“If you don’t mind me asking…. What career did you hold before your families migrated here?

Maria felt the tension stiffen between Papyrus and Sans, both skeletons irking at her somewhat privying question as Sans gave a cough into his napkin. He had to hold back a snort once he noticed Papyrus eye sockets wide, unabashedly staring at Maria like she had gone mental.

Maybe she had.

Wingdings kept a faint smile on his face though, never once visibly taking her question any deeper than he cared for as he responded.

“You could say… I was a scientist.”

He gave nothing else for her to work with, before once again going silent.

The dinner was silent from then on, all 3 parties waiting for Maria to touch the sparkling water. Sans stared at her, eye lights flicking to each person as his fork dug itself into a meatball- merely toying with the food on his plate. He felt Maria siding him with her gaze, though he willed himself not to meet her eyes, he noticed the slight tug of a smile on her lips.

She reached for the glass of water, a tension once again resurfacing as Sans tensed. He felt his hand tighten around the fork, willing himself to stay as calm as possible, though finding himself sweating quite profusely against his will.

Maria brought the glass to her lips, before feeling that familiar tug in her inner being. Goosebumps rose their way up her arm, feeling her body stiffen up as she stopped just before the water could reach her lips.

Wingdings was staring at her. The light in his eyes, solely focused on her entirely with no other presence subjected to his attention.

She knew something was wrong, even before she had touched her glass. Sans had gone from all smiles to entirely worried, Maria noting the familiar way he curled his fists tightly around whatever object he had his meaty hands closest to.

Maria let her eyes slip towards Papyrus, eyeing his relaxed manner of eating as he simply chewed. Hyperfocused on himself. He was completely silent. That was not the normal Papyrus.

Emerald eyes glazed over, succumbing to the fact that there was a fault in the air amidst the 3 men she sat with. She slowly lowered her gaze… and set down the glass of water. She turned her eyes to latch onto Wingdings observant orbs, before letting a simple sentence escape her breath towards him.

“So what kind of science did you do?”

——————————-————————————

[parkitrighthere]

✨💫The WIP Fairy is visiting your blog and wants you to share your WIPS! Share whatever you like! All of them or one of them, just the title or a brief synopsis. Put them out into the world to manifest some writing inspiration 📝🤍 then send this ask to your writer moots!💫✨

Hey, Anon!! First of all, THANK YOU for sending me this and being so patient while I, a certified procrastinator, took my sweet time responding. Honestly, my brain has been in 800 places at once, and my WIPs are literally taking over my life. Like, I can't even count them on my fingers anymore—probably need to borrow someone else’s hands at this point. 😭

Anyway, here's the tea: I'm a mess with too many ideas and absolutely zero time management skills. BUT!! I’ve decided to gift you guys something special, so I’ll post everything on Christmas (ya girl’s pulling through, I swear). And yes, they’re mostly Christmas-themed because I’m a sucker for holiday vibes.

Okay, let’s break it down:

Almost Romantic (2): Fully written, fully edited, and fully… sitting in my drafts for no apparent reason. (Don’t ask. I’m weird.)

Falling Past 9 to 5: Coworkers-with-benefits and whipped!JK. I mean, it’s Christmas, and whipped!JK deserves to shine.

Love Is in the Air and Ice Underfoot: Second-chance slow-burn with DILF!Namjoon. Yes, you read that right—DILF!Namjoon. You’re welcome.

Our Last First Love: Look, I can’t even explain this one without giving away spoilers, but trust me, it’s worth it. Just trust me on this. Pinky promise.

I’m so excited to share these with you guys! Thanks for sticking around while I fumble through life. I have some other wips too... but, for now, that's all you need to know about. 😬 Love you loads, and stay amazing. 💖 Also, hydrate and wear cozy socks—it’s cold out there!! 🥰

[duchessdepolignaca03]

Pulling a @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and queuing this to post at midnight! Cause I actually have something to share! I’ve got about 1/4 of my @aroyallybigbangrwrb written, so I may actually hit my deadline! 😊

Without further ado, an excerpt from Odalisque, or where Prince Henry is promised to Prince Alex from birth to serve as his concubine, and spends eight years of his life in seclusion to preserve his virginity. I like to think of this fic as the happy ending spiritual cousin of Rule Britannia.

“You smell different,” Prince Alex declares, apropos of nothing as he sits next to Henry in the sunken garden of Kensington Palace.

Henry is in a foul mood.

The arrival of the Americans for their summer visit is always incredibly disruptive to Henry’s otherwise peaceful existence, and he had little sleep the night before after his Mama’s stern lecture about how Henry ought to conduct himself in front of the American Prince.

It’s not the first time his Mama has made an appeal to the “sweet and obedient creature that must be in there somewhere”. But there had been something particularly unhinged and hurtful about his Mama’s lecture the night before, implying that all the fault for their enmity lay in Henry’s obstinance and not in Prince Alex’s impertinence and general propensity to be an absolute knob. Henry’s Mama pleads for him to grow up, and open his eyes to the possibility that Prince Alexander has matured, and grown into a fine, handsome young man.

His Mama is utterly in denial about the fact that Prince Alex’s appalling manners are incongruous with his external appearance, which even Henry can admit is conventionally – if not strikingly – beautiful. But even more incongruous to his appealing visage is his smell – which Henry wasn’t going to comment on until Prince Alex’s complete lack of self-awareness led him to unfairly question Henry’s own hygiene.

“Yes, and you stink,” Henry declares, pretending to gag as he scoots away . “I heard unemployment is very high in your country – can you not devote the excess labour to the production of deodorant?”

No pressure tags for the greats @sparklepocalypse @priincebutt @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @taste-thewaste @onthewaytosomewhere @orchidscript @piratefalls @bitbybitwrites @sunnysideprince @zwiazdziarka @firenati0n @magicandarchery @thinkof-england @getmehighonmagic @nocoastposts @happiness-of-the-pursuit @wordsofhoneydew @bigassbowlingballhead @itsmaybitheway @suseagull04 @yrsonpurpose @inexplicablymine @ships-to-sail @cha-melodius @leaves-of-laurelin and of course, anyone else who wants to participate!