#mint is posting wips here and there

[colormints-art]

sadly couldnt finish this drawing for today so have a look at the edited wip to see what it wouldve roughly looked like! will finish it when my arm has recovered but until then feel free to use this very simple lineart to color in yourself 🥹✨

you can also post your version as long as you credit and tag me! 😙😙✌🏻

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

progress of a commission

so these are pieces I was commissioned for a month or so back, and to prevent a ruining-of-a-surprise, I queued this post 3 weeks ago (aka around when I sent it out in the mail)

The commissioner wanted to get two matching pieces that read "It's a Corpus, not an archive" for her and a friend, both getting PHDs.

First, I draft and put the text to paper, since oftentimes the text is actually the quickest part. Then I do WIP sketches for the specifics the commissioner.

Here, we're going for a particular cat (I get reference images), a heddgehog, and a pile of archival papers and books. Then, since there are two of them, one gets the arms of navarre and the other gets a bookbinding frame

then we have the drafting for all the borders, which, in this case, was a combination of sage and mint

finalize designs for both, and finish out the black ink linework:

then all the colour, leaf detailing, etc

et voila! not identical, but rather matching pieces of commission!

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana

You guys are getting an absolute feast this week. Two chapters on regular posting days, the twenty snippets you got on WIP Wednesday, this, and of course more Across a Crowded Room tomorrow.

Enjoy!

Based off a post I saw on here (and didn't save for some reason) about the legal tangles gay people had to go through when gay marriage was federally legalized because a lot of them married different people in different states because their marriage in California wasn't legal in the other states and just never bother to get a divorce.

And my brain let's Steddify this shit Sweet Home Alabama style!

So here we go:

Eddie and Steve got married in Boston when Massachusetts made gay marriage legal. But they broke up when Eddie went to California with his band.

Cue Eddie going around and having a couple of really short marriages in different states. Tommy in New York for three months when the band was in New York recording an album. Billy in Hawaii for two weeks while Eddie was there on vacation.

Neither of them really mattered or were serious. Because they were only legal in the state they were performed in so Eddie didn't think anything about it.

Fast forward to a decade later, gay marriage is legalized across the country. Corroded Coffin has broken up and Eddie has a job as a tattoo artist.

Eddie goes to get a marriage license in Seattle where he's been living for the past five years. And is denied on the account he's a polygamist. He's still married to three different men in three different states.

Fuck.

His fiancee Chrissy is a legal assistant at a law firm so she has her bosses draw up annulments for Eddie's three marriages and has them sent out to all three of Eddie's exes.

Including Steve.

When Steve gets his papers, he's pissed. He hunts down Eddie's number and calls. Tells him that he can do the proper thing and tell him to his face he wants a divorce. None of this annulment bullshit like their relationship didn't matter. But until then he can fuck off.

Now Eddie's frantic. Because the reason why he and Chrissy were getting married in the first place is that her student visa ended in May and her work visa has been delayed three times. They have to get married otherwise she'll be deported. And no just a little across the border to Canada either, she's from Barbados.

He tells her the truth about Steve and how they were actually married for almost two years before Eddie left. They had been living in their home town of Hawkins where their marriage wasn't legal any way, but meant something to them.

Chrissy is upset he didn't tell her this sooner, because yeah, that's whole other kettle of fish. So she has her bosses draft a divorce decree and words it a whole lot nicer than the legalese of the annulment.

Eddie packs his bags heads to back to Hawkins and back to Steve. He has one week to convince Steve to sign the divorce papers.

He gets into to town and finds that Steve is the proud owner of the best bakery in town. And the best selling item is the chunky mint brownies Steve made just for Eddie when they first got together. Eddie gets a little sentimental about it, and Steve stubbornly refuses to sign the papers.

They go back and forth for a few days. They tumble into bed and Eddie wakes up, he finds Steve gone and the papers signed.

Only now that Steve has signed them, he doesn't want that anymore. So he breaks down crying and sobbing. He calls Chrissy and now Chrissy is as distraught as he is.

After they hang up Chrissy calls the bakery and Robin answers. Chrissy really needs to speak to Steve.

Robin tells her Steve can't come to the phone because he is covered in flour and can't because he'll get it messy. Chrissy asks if she calls his cell phone if Robin could hold it up to his ear, because she really needs to talk to him. But Robin refuses to budge. She banned Steve from having a cell phone around their giant stand mixer because he has lost three of them to the beast.

Robin offers to pass long the message, though. And Chrissy has to be content with that. She explains who she is and why Eddie needed the divorce. She tells Robin about Eddie's breakdown that morning and how he really didn't want to divorce Steve.

Robin and her get to talking about their best friends, missed connections and themselves.

While the girls are talking Eddie is having another freak out because he put the envelope containing the divorce papers in the mail box but realized he forgot to sign them himself. He needs to get them back so he can sign them, but he's afraid of getting arrested for tampering a federal post box trying to get the papers back.

He's near hysterics when Nancy finds him. She's in town visiting her family. And she helps him get the papers back by talking to the post office and they open the box and he gets them back.

She takes him to lunch to calm his clearly frazzled nerves. He tells her everything. And she tells him that while Eddie was in New York, Steve had gone to see him and when he saw how much bigger and better the big city was, Steve decided if he was going to win Eddie back, he had to make something of himself. And thus began the bakery. He almost had enough to fly to Seattle and woo Eddie. But then this happened.

Now Eddie is really stricken. He wants Steve so bad, but Chrissy is out of options.

Nancy gives his arm a squeeze and Eddie heads back to the hotel he'd been staying at.

He finally looks at his phone and sees a lot of messages and texts from Chrissy begging him not mail the divorce papers yet, she has a plan. Cue Eddie having a final breakdown in his hotel room, sobbing and wrung out.

There is a knock on his door and Eddie is confused the only person who knew his hotel and room number was Chrissy and she's in Seattle. But he gets up to answer and suddenly has an armful of Steve Harrington. Who is also a sobbing wreck.

After both of them calm down, Steve tells him he only signed the papers because he wanted Eddie to be happy. And if that meant being divorced from him, he'd do it.

But Eddie's isn't happy. He's sad and hurt and lonely. Steve is too.

They fall asleep in each other's arms, placing their trust in their best friends.

The next morning they are woken up by Robin and surprise surprise, Chrissy.

They explained that since gay marriage is legal everywhere now, Robin is going to marry Chrissy. And she'll swap places with Eddie. She'll go back to Seattle with Chrissy and Eddie can stay here with Steve.

It's perfect.

They get a marriage license and walked down the courthouse where Eddie and Steve are their witnesses. While the judge is talking, Steve pulls out Eddie's old ring. The one he returned to Steve when he moved out to be with his band.

He slips it back on Eddie's ring finger where it belongs. They kiss at the same time Chrissy and Robin do.

A couple years later Chrissy becomes a lawyer and her and Robin move back to Hawkins where Eddie has opened his own tattoo parlor, right next to Steve's bakery.

And they all live happily ever after.

ETA: Full Story here.

Permanent Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ��@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars

[pythonteeth]

I'm going to be honest I don't think I'll finish this bur much in the way an artist will post a wip I'm doing that with words so here u go!!!

eiwaseya / post- kuramerukagari events /

There’s not much to be done about setting things back into place. Truly it’s more standing around and answering a question every so often, at least for Iseya. If Eiwazima were in his place, he’d be more hands-on. But Iseya’s hands are more delicate, his limbs not suited to move rubble out of the way. Instead, he’s focused on the people, easing them back into town in an orderly way as well as assuring any nerves still whorling on anxiety. It’s a simple task, as the town has faith in their community. Trustworthy, is what it is. 

The Komainu take care of the people and offer solace. Help when there’s something amiss. To keep lifting up the people from the ground and into a livable space. Nothing is perfect, of course, but most people are happy in the garden. 

But really, that’s not important now. 

What matters now is that when Eiwazima returns to his flat he’s pleasantly surprised by the smell of mint lingering in the foyer. By the librarian on his futon, draped in his Haori. Always such a lovely sight, especially framed in the moonlight trailing through his window. 

Iseya is still dressed for the day, his pipe set just to the side and a book left open not far behind it. He’d been waiting, Eiwazima notes. Waiting for his return. There’s a soft smile curving his lips when he reaches down to move Iseya’s belongings to the side. His touch gentle, deliberate, as he removes Iseya’s glasses to set them on top of the book. The man doesn’t stir, not quite. The motion is subtle, but his face turns towards the contact of Eiwazima’s fingertips against the swell of his cheek. 

Sweet. Eiwazima can’t help but think. 

Soft… When his palm comes back to brush over the soft of Iseya’s skin. 

Cradling his cheek as he leans into the touch. 

“Nnh…” The sound is no more than a breath against his palm, and Eiwazima is already slinking to hover over the librarian lying recumbent beneath him. Iseya’s lashes flutter briefly, then dip back down in surrender as the peaceful expression melts into a soft smile. “I thought I felt a rat.” 

Eiwazima chuckles, reverberating deep in his chest while dipping down to press a kiss to the juncture of neck and shoulder. “Rich, coming from the rat king himself.” 

Their current position keeps Iseya in place on the futon, arms folded against his chest and the haori pinned on either side of his body. He has to turn his head to look at Eiwazima, but instead, his shoulder drops, exposing more of the column of his neck, reveling in the way his partner trails lips, teeth, and tongue along his skin. He hums when Eiwazima’s lips find purchase at the corner of his jaw, slowly turning his head between each kiss traveling oh so slow towards his mouth. And when their lips hover just centimeters from each other Iseya smiles. It’s one of Eiwazima’s favorites too. One of the smiles that pulls dimples into each cheek and makes his eyes crinkle in delight. 

“Welcome home.” 

And their lips slot together easily. As if they were made for each other. As if they’d done this in every lifetime they’d ever experienced together. Any tension that might remain in Eiwazima’s shoulders melts away with each stolen breath before their mouths return to each other. Slow, soft. Occasionally Iseya will be frantic, moving as if they’re running out of time. A sort of desperation present only in the tightness of his grip on Eiwazima’s shoulders, or the way he barely pulls apart for air. It’s all his own doing that the pair are either to catch a breath between them. Iseya squirms beneath him, moving beneath the Haori pulled taut over his shoulders until he’s flat on his back and worming his arms free of the barrier pinning them. All the while desperately pressing his mouth to Eiwazima’s until his arms can fully encircle his neck and tug him closer.

“Yeah.” a self-satisfied affirmation before he ducks to take Iseya’s lips under his own. 

[skyeslittlecorner]

Duty of a right hand man: Sitri

As I promised, it's time to abuse this blue lamb.

Warning: self-harm

I totally did NOT mix up the posts and I did not post a wip here earlier that was almost half as long. Nu-uh. Not at all.

Words count: 906

꧁*:･ ✡ ･:*꧂

Demons, like cats, purr in two ways. Usually at the knees of the owner, when they are happy and rules the world. However, sometimes when a pet is dying, it purrs because the vibrations help soothe the pain.

When a soft growl reached Sitri's sensitive ears, what little sleep he had managed to catch faded away. The hospital wing stank of drugs, moonlight reflected off the white walls and bedding. But the worst was the constant noise. Sitri get used to the creaking of his mattress and rustling of quilt and pillow; he liked the whispers of the wind blowing into the curtains through the open window. Hospital? A lot of terrible beeping of machines, squeaking of wheels of the medicine cart and clanking drugs being given to other patients. Even the slippage of physiological salts from the drip into his veins irritated him. Anemia? And what about this? Next time, Buer will have to force him into a straightjacket before putting him in bed.

It took him a few seconds to locate the voice. Unfortunately, Buer must have been right about Sitri’s not-so-good condition, because his migraine couldn't have come from nothing... but still, he would recognize his king's voice at any moment. And he recognized it now too.

He turned off the IV, pulled the tube from his hand, and crawled out of bed. Once the vertical and horizontal lines stopped waving, he adjusted the blanket to make it look as if he was still sleeping in it, curled up. It should be enough for Buer to not notice for a while.

Silently Sitri walked through the halls of the castle, heading towards Satan's chambers. He heard more than he saw; more and more distinct murmur, rhythmic breathing and heartbeat. And also… he felt like his ears were ringing. Sounds doubled. Damn migraine.

He wanted to take some painkillers, but had to find out what happened first. His Majesty had a habit of behaving not entirely sensibly. Once he popped a whole pack of pills into his mouth and chewed them as if they were mints and not painkillers. That's why Sitri preferred to first find out what was happening and only then bring the *measured* medicines. 

He still had that strange feeling that his majesty's heart was beating twice. Without much thinking, he opened the door. The lamp was on in the office, but the chair near solid desk was empty. 

“Hey.” A warm, familiar whisper caught his attention. A beautiful voice that he would recognize anywhere. “Shh, I don't want to wake him up.”

“Solomon…”

Their pretty face twisted hearing his voice. As always. Solomon. He spoke without thinking as he couldn't get used to the fact that the first person he loved was no longer there. Childish? Yes. Could he handle it? No. They felt so much like him. Same soul, similar heart, similar voice. But Solomon faded away so long ago. Sitri wished this beautiful human didn't look so much like him. He wanted to love them as they were. And he loved, despite what thoughtlessly escaped his lips. But only he knew about it.

Unlike other demons, Sitri did not pay much attention to appearance. He cared little about eyesight. He felt the soul and heard the heart. They were the ones who spoke first, before the eyes could show the rest. And, unfortunately, this soul and this heart were identical to his long-lost love. First love. Unrequited love.

And now history repeats itself.

Losing something he could never have hurt bad enough the first time. Now, due to his own stupidity, he couldn't even hope for a second chance. Not when his majesty's head was resting on MC’s lap, not when they stroked him with a tender smile, and not when even their heartbeats synchronized. Sitri felt like an intruder during this intimate moment.

"Sorry." 

He withdrew quietly and closed the door. The pain pierced his chest, pierced his head, blurred his vision… or were they tears? Nevermind. 

Rage flowed through him like electricity. A demon as old as him, how could he be so stupid? Why would this poor human pay attention to him if he couldn't even learn to say their name? Why did he allow himself to hope at all? Why does he… No, he needed to free himself from these thoughts.

He raised his hand, looked at it carefully, and tear out the cannula. 

Blood spilled on the white sleeve. It hurt, but differently. Almost calming. Sticky red liquid flowed along his fang-scarred wrist, warm and thick. There wasn't much of it left in his dry body. If only he could get rid of the rest of it…

No. He had responsibilities. He was the guardian of Gehenna. Responsibilities... that might help.

Feeling a lump in his throat he turned on his heel. Throbbing pain in his hand briefly allowed him to focus enough to go to his own office. Buer did not rule in Gehenna. He couldn't force him to rest. And Satan... he had other things to do now. At least his king was happy, and that meant Gehenna was at peace. If Sitri had to lose them both, he was happy to lose them to each other.

Demons, like cats, purr in two ways. When they are happy and when they are suffering. But despite his excellent hearing, Sitri couldn't hear the soft growl that escaped from his own constricted throat this night.

[dodgerkedavra]

first sentence patterns

rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern! I was tagged by the illustrious @oknowkiss and so had to take a day to fangirl and perish and faint but let's put some SENTENCES. Also, I stole your formatting!

Perennial Blooms || drarry || 5k || E

A single, soft footfall lands on the floor near the entrance of the hospital wing, and Draco is instantly, fully awake. 

I'll Find You Again (I Always Do) || drarry || 15k || E

Draco didn’t come here to jump.

Yoga with Draco || drarry || wip || E

The doors of the lift open, and Harry’s plan to start fresh in the new year bumps into its first obstacle.

Get What You Knead || drarry || 7.5k || E

Harry peers through the window of his newly minted tattoo parlour, his heart beating fast, though not as hard as it was five minutes ago, when he first saw the ghost.

I Was Late (You Were Early) || drarry || 12k || E

Bright stars send pinpricks of light through pale clouds as Harry huffs and puffs his way up the final few steps. 

Speak Softly || drarry || wip || E

At half-ten on Wednesday morning, Potter declines to appear for their regularly scheduled snog.

Former Things Come to Mind || drarry || 65k || E

“Reparo.”

The Snowman || drarry || 3.5k || E

Draco wakes in a room filled with light and silence.

The Midnight Clear || drarry || wip || E

Diagon Alley on the first of December is the very picture of nostalgia. 

The Scent of Soft Rains || drarry || 20k || E

For a single moment in the middle of being burned alive by dragonfire, the heat so intense it feels freezing and the pain so vast it’s the size of the sky, Harry is relieved.

Come play @starquestingfordrarry @mallstars @moonmanatee and anyone else because I suddenly can't remember anyone's name!

[mrnovelist]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by my dear friend @mintedwitcher !

I unfortunately do not have anything comprehensible enough to post but! I was planning on making a second part of this, so I guess it counts as a WIP even if the first half is complete! It’s not Wednesday anymore but I didn’t see it until today so

You get a prize if you can guess what he’s reading to her 💜 don’t ask me when this is set in it’s my own personal timeline (haven’t seen the movies in years)

‘Professor? Someone is here to see you.’ Charles put down his pen, sighing at the stack of papers in front of him. ‘Thank you, Logan. Go ahead and send them in.’

Logan had seemed nervous when their minds had brushed, more so than usual. Charles narrowed his eyes, wheeling from behind the desk to the door of the study. The mind beyond it was just as nervous as Logan, but he swore he could feel…

“Raven? Is that you?” Charles opened the door, eyes widening at the sight of his sister. She gave him an awkward smile, yellow eyes drifting down to the wheelchair and then snapping back to his face.

“Can I come in?” Raven asked him quietly, adding a soft, almost inaudible: “I missed you.”

Charles wheeled himself back towards the desk, adjusting the papers into a neater stack. “You may. I.. Missed you too, Raven. Or do you prefer Mystique? I’ll refer to you as you wish.” He was good at keeping the bitterness out of his voice, opting to speak calmly instead.

“Raven is fine, thank you.” Raven sat down stiffly on the sofa, hands clasping her knees. “I don’t know why I came here. We’re set up nearby and I couldn’t sleep.”

“Would you like me to read to you?” Charles spoke the offer without thinking, feeling just as startled as his sister looked. After a moment, Raven nodded, standing to give him the space to transition from the wheelchair to the couch. She laid her head in his lap, and he briefly wished that he could feel the weight against his legs.

At least she was here.

Charles picked up a book from the side table, one hand resting gently on Ravens head while the other held the book.

“‘Mr Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance-’” He began, chuckling as Raven opened an eye, a teasing frown on her face. “No thesis? You should keep it out for the students to read before bed.” She shifted, pulling the couch throw over herself and gesturing for him to continue.

“I thought this would be more fitting, seeing as it’s October, no?” Charles placed a finger over his sisters lips as she began to speak again, gently silencing any snide comment she was about to make. “‘-that was never lightened by a smile; cold, scanty, and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable.’” He paused, frowning at who the words reminded him of. Charles shook it off, and continued to savor the bit of time he had with Raven instead, and read to her until the book slid from his hand to the floor as he fell asleep as well.

I don’t know who to tag since Mint already tagged everyone I would :[ So if you see this feel free to join in!

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by: @cer-rata

My WIP’s

Unplanned Adoption (fluff+crack)

Billy Superson (Ver 1+2) (fluff+crack)

To the abyss and those who survived it (character study/retrospective)

Cruel reminders (angst+fluff+hurt/comfort)

Old Man Marvel (Canon divergence)

Bat-Swap (posting) (crack treated seriously)

Don’t tell Batman! (Posting)(Crack)

Church Grim (crack)

Kon-el’s boundaries! Mint Condition! (Angst + hurt/comfort)

Fawcett City; Villain Retirement (fluff + comfort)

What the future holds (posting) (future fic + poly relationship)

What if?— The world met Marvelous instead of Superboy? (Posting) (Canon divergence + crack treated seriously)

Memories of a hero; Nightmare’s of a boy (posting) (character study)

Billy Robinson (crack treated seriously)

Never grow up (future fic + angst)

He knows (crack)

Preteen Parenting: The marvelous misadventures of the worlds weirdest found family (posting) (Canon divergence + crack treated seriously + fluff)

Rules of resurrection (canon divergence + angst)

Marvelous Bats (Bat-Swaps continuation) (fluff)

Captain Marvel Fanclub (posting)(fluff + hurt/comfort)

“In the next world (and this one too)” (posting) (angst + hurt comfort)

Some have posted chapters with some not seeing the light of day at all, the ones not posted at this point do have their share of paragraphs and nonsensical rambling but, alas, are going to take me a while.

Okay, let’s try to get 21 people on this thing

@yeetus-feetus @kenandeliza @wolfsbanesparks @chaoticallyfluffy @puppetwoman17 @zorilleerrant @atlas-likes-writing @delicioushologramperson … I can’t think of other people so it’s just 8/21 here….

[swearingcactus]

somehow got an idea of v borrowing kerry's shower and made this, gonna use this for @glitchinginthegarden 's tag for a Wip Whenever! (thanks for the tag!)

V's buck-ass naked in Kerry's shower. It's a huge shower, taking up 30% of the entire bathroom and the bathroom itself is bigger than his apartment. And now the large space and the great ventilation is getting him cold. He rubs a foot on top of the other, trying to warm the palms of his feet. Johnny crackles next to him, leaning on the glass window next to him. "Occupied, asshole." V says, gesturing to himself. "Also, ever heard of privacy?" "You lost your privacy rights the second you took longer than 10 minutes to decide on a soap to use. At least start the water. This isn't your megabuilding, Kerry can pay the hot water bill." Johnny made a good point, but V opted to ignore Johnny for now, as he often does. Instead, he opens another soap bottle and sniffs it experimentally. He could tell this was Kerry's go-to soap. Smelled like mint and perfumed musk. He reads the name of the scent. Gold Desire. "Oh fucking... his pretentious ass needs a beating." Johnny grumbles. V snorts, and closes the bottle. It's a scent reminiscent of Kerry, which V doesn't hate, of course. But the idea of smelling like Kerry didn't sit right with him. A little too domestic. A little like he's playing pretend as someone's cute little input who's enjoying the high life for years by now. A little too much like wearing a costume. He's already had enough of the idea of turning into someone he's not without a stupid soap doing it for him. He goes to sniff the next soap and dry-heaves.

(there's more and cus it's just normal fluff i probably won't post it on ao3 lmao, but if it actually has shape i'd probably share it here!)

[colormints-art]

first techno doodles on my new tablet 🐷👀

im really feeling the new screen kinda? a bit unusual still the slightly different texture but mHMM

[maxident-xx]

you know what. fuck it. *posts entire phony wip in here*

WC : 3628

@wabatle @sillynene-13 since yall like phony

Chapter One - 02/01/2XXX

Death Corps. Everyone feared the four knocks on the door. Four, the unlucky number. That's when the Death Corps recruiters would come, forcing you to join the army. Everyone had to join, starting at the age of 13. I think they started doing it because of the amount of wars that have been going on lately. They need more soldiers to defend our crappy country. There were two ways you could get out of serving in the Death Corps: if you had some serious disability or if you were filthy rich. If you paid enough money, you could avoid going for half a year. If you keep paying, when you turn 35, they stop caring. My parents have been using the payment method of saving my brother and I for the past few years, up until now. The four dreaded knocks. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

I silently ran downstairs to overhear the conversation between my dad and the recruiter. The recruiter was a woman with blonde hair and dark brown roots. She had dark siren eyes and was dressed in an all black attire. She was utterly terrifying.

“Yes, Mr. Terry Black? We're here to enlist Mallory Poppy Black and Fitz Aster Black for their necessary Death Corps Service. We didn't receive any payment, and in the Death Corps Handbook, Section 37B it states if there is no payment to spare yourself from serving for a month, a Death Corps recruiter is obligated to come and take you or your children to training.”

“Recruiter, ma'am, we might've run out of money, but please don't do this to my kids. I'll pay double the amount next year.”

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Black. I cannot do that, I don't make the rules. I listen to the handbook. Can you please call them over?”

“Mallory, Fitz! Come down!” 

I went down first, my twin brother, Fitz, following shortly after. His face paled as he recognized the skull embroidered on the recruiters uniform.

“You're shitting me,” Fitz choked out.

“I'm so sorry,” My dad chanted as he squeezed us. “I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, please stay safe, my babies,” He was beginning to cry now. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to sob with him.

“Come with me, you two,” The recruiter ordered. Fitz and I followed her to her van. “Everyone in Death Corps has a code name. Mine is Guerilla. I am not telling you my real name, as per Death Corps Handbook section 1B. You two need to serve 18 months each.” She reapplied her cherry red lipstick before starting the van. “I'll be picking up more kids after. If any of you guys try to escape, you will suffer immediate consequences. What are they? You don't want to know.” 

“Guerilla scares me,” Fitz whispered.

“Real, if I have to serve in her regiment I don't know what I would do,” I whispered back. I couldn't shake the question off my brain, why can't she say her real name? Is it for privacy reasons? What if we did find her real name?

For those of you reading this story, sorry to interrupt, but I'm Mallory and I hate my life. My parents are divorced because they have absolutely no love for each other. The world is at a constant state of war. My twin brother is a weirdo. I probably won't get to eat mint chocolate chip ice cream for the next 18 months. But it could be worse?

The next person that boarded the van is some kid who looks our age. He was too busy crying to say anything about himself.

After that there was this one kid who just stared off into space for three minutes before talking. “My sister is in the Death Corps. I wonder how she's doing. She's almost done with her service.”

“What's her name, child?” Guerilla asked from the front seat.

“Eden. Eden Mendoza. I'm Wren, her little sibling,” The kid said. I could not tell the gender of that thing, and apparently, neither could anyone else.

“Oh, Himmel. Her left leg's been completely blown off I tell ya. Blood everywhere, it flew six or seven feet away from her, what a sight! But don't worry, she's doin’ better,” Guerilla informed. 

Fitz and I looked at each other, eyes both wide. The boy started crying harder. Wren's mouth was agape. “Her- Her leg was blown off??”

“Mhm, that's not even the worst I've witnessed on the battlefield. She uses a prosthetic leg now.” The fact Guerilla could say that with such a straight face shows how traumatizing serving for the Death Corps would be. I can't wait. (That's sarcasm, for those of you who are a little slow.)

After Guerilla collected all of the recruits, there were a total of eight people in the back of the van. Four boys, three girls, and one whatever the hell Wren was. The oldest in the van was a 21 year old man, the youngest was Wren, being 14 years old.

When we arrived at the camp, boy, was it crowded. There were varying expressions, from people trembling and crying to people being… excited to be here? You have a 51.6% death rate from serving in Death Corps, and you're excited? I wish I was that optimistic about dying. 

“Mallory, if I die, please hide my phone from Dad. One wrong click and he's going to bring me back from the dead and kill me again,” Fitz told me. I wonder how he'd feel knowing two years after he said that, I went through his phone and found out exactly why he said that.

“Same goes with me. If Dad found the drawings in my sketchbook, I'm done for.” I've never gotten along with Fitz well, but I guess it's easier to talk with someone when you're both in a life-or-death situation.

A loud siren came from way up front and a man who appeared to be around his mid-30's stepped up on the podium. “Welcome all Death Corps recruits. I am Eifrit, the current General of Death Corps. You are all gathered here today to serve your required 18 month term. You will undergo training and testing to decide which subunit is the most fitting for you. We wish the best for you, and as our founder would say, ‘Experiri non mori.’ Thank you.”

I think I'm going to start writing my suicide note. Death Corps, you guys can get a special shout out.

Chapter Two - 02/01/2XXX

“Alright, everyone from van SK431 come to this side! I will be doing a fitness test to see if you are fit to be in battle. I will be doing this with the aid of my helper, Andromeda. Introduce yourself, Andromeda!” Guerilla announced.

Andromeda was slightly shorter than Guerilla and had a nose piercing, a mole above her lips, split dyed black and white hair, and purple eyes that seemed as if they lost the glimmer in them a long time ago. “Hello trainees, my name is Andromeda, as Guerilla said, and I serve as a medic in the Death Corps. I will be doing a full body examination, and then we will run some exercises to test your stamina, dexterity, and strength. Any questions before we begin?”

“Ew a full body exam?? Are we going to like, have to strip naked or something?” Some ugly boy exclaims. He was one of the guys that were excited to be here.

“I don't want to see your small dick either, buddy. I have to do this, unfortunately.” Most of the group burst into laughter as whoever that guy was tried to come up with a comeback.

“Oh yeah? Well I bet um… Um… I bet you uh… You smell bad?!” That was the worst attempt at an insult I've ever seen.

Andromeda ignored his statement and moved onto the actual inspections. Fitz went first in a dingy tent with a caduceus on the front. He came back ten minutes later traumatized.

This part is icky and I'm sure you don't want to read it so I'll skip to the part after the whole medical exams. There were person shaped targets lined up and we were each handed a pistol. 

“You all have to shoot the targets. You get two tries, we'll be looking for people that have great accuracy,” Guerilla explained. “You kid, you're up first.”

Wren closed an eye and got into shooting position. The bullet hit a perfect bullseye.

“How did you do it? It was probably just a lucky shot!” A guy shouted.

“I'm used to shooting, my parents taught me when I was younger to prepare me for this. I prefer sniping more, though,” Wren said.

“You're hella good kid, shoot again?” Guerilla rested an arm on their shoulder. They nodded before getting back into position and shooting again, this time a little off from the bullseye. Guerilla wrote something down on a paper and let the weird guy– who's name I later learned was Lawrence– shoot. He used both his shots immediately and just barely hit the target. Guess we know who isn't going to be a shooter. Fitz was after two other people, and he did average. He hit pretty close to the bullseye the first time, and hit somewhere on the outer edges on the second try. I went last, and I had a stunning realization: I need glasses. And I need to find out which eye was my dominant eye. 

“Loser,” Fitz snickered. I elbowed him.

“This is why you're the one that was an accident,” I retorted. He didn't say anything back.

“Next up is close combat! Since there are eight people gathered here, we'll do this tournament style!” Guerilla seemed a little too enthusiastic to watch people fight each other.

First match was some random girl against Fitz. I'm not sure if pitting a girl against a boy is a good idea but equal rights, equal fights. The other recruits, Guerilla, and I watched as Fitz and the girl threw punches at each other. Fitz landed a punch on her nose, and I think something in that girl snapped because she kicked him right where it hurts the most. Everyone felt the pain Fitz felt as he fell to the ground with a groan.

“I win!” The girl smiled. She held her hand out to help Fitz up, but he swatted it away.

“I'm in extreme pain, I don't think I can get up yet,” Fitz groaned. Who's the loser now?”

“I know you can do it, Fitz. Get up if you want to survive,” Guerilla walked towards him and slightly nudged him with her foot. He got up immediately and stood right next to me.

I let him rest his arm on my shoulder as the next match started. It was Wren versus the 21 year old. Okay, these matches are getting a bit unfair now, aren't they? Wren probably just started going through puberty and they're fighting someone who's old enough to drink? The match started with Wren charging directly at the man, and the man retaliated by body slamming Wren on the floor. The thud was loud, but the silence after Wren's eyes closed was louder. 

“That was a child? You could've gone easier on the thing!” Guerilla squatted to feel Wren's pulse. “They're still alive, I'll go call Andromeda. You shouldn't have done that during training, but I like your attitude, man. You better show the same strength on the battlefield, soldier. I'll be back soon. Mallory, you look after everyone.”

The sound of Guerilla's boots hitting the ground decrescendoed as she left the training site. The man looked down on the floor where Wren laid and sat down. “Damn,” He said.

Damn indeed. 

Guerilla returned with Andromeda, who came to pick Wren up, with another girl by her side. She had the same chocolate eyes and facial structure as Wren. The doctor's coat and skirt were long, but not enough to cover the prosthetic leg she had. Was she Himmel? 

“Wren has a minor concussion, but they'll be fine with a little rest. When they wake up, tell them big sis says hi.” Himmel patted their hair before getting up. “Andromeda will supply the medicine to quicken recovery.”

“Thank you, Himmel. I'll tell you when the kid wakes up again.” Guerilla seemed like a genuinely nice person outside of the battlefield. “In the meantime, let's have our third match. Mallory versus Lewis.”

Lewis was the kid that was crying the whole trip here. When the match started, he stood and waited for me to attack. I was about to do the same until I realized that it was a pussy move. So I kicked his shins hard. He fell to the floor immediately and begged for mercy. I think what happened to Wren scared him.

“Mallory wins… I guess. I don't think that counts as much of a win, but great job?” Guerilla stared at Lewis with a pitiful expression. “I don't know what I'm going to do with you. Alright, fourth match starts in a minute!”

“You only won because Lewis is weak. If you went against anyone else, you'd lose,” Fitz told me. 

“You're not wrong.” I weigh 100 pounds and I am 5’6, of course I would lose against anyone that wasn't Lewis.

The fourth match was Lawrence versus a girl. These people need to say their names. I'm going to confuse the readers by saying “this girl” or “this guy” for the millionth time. I should use adjectives to make it a little easier to differentiate. Pink haired girl. That works.

Back to the story, I watched Lawrence win against the pink haired girl, but she put up a pretty strong fight. She seems normal, unlike Lawrence. She was crying a little in the van, but now she looks like she's just accepted her fate. Girl same. 

“What a fight, huh? Most of you guys did great. After Wren wakes up, we'll do an obstacle course,” Guerilla declared. An obstacle course doesn't sound too bad. I'm pretty quick, I have experience. By experience I mean running away from my brother after I eat the last piece of cake. But I'm sure it won't be that bad, right?

Right?

Chapter Three - 02/01/2XXX

I was wrong. It was that bad.

Wren woke up 30 minutes later after Andromeda and Himmel visited, confused. Hope they didn't get amnesia. Guerilla gave them some of the pain medication, but other than the confusion they seemed alright. 

“Sorry for knocking you out and giving you a concussion or something,” Wren's opponent apologized.

“It's okay. Maybe. I understand why you did that, I would've done the same.” Wren forced a smile. Really shitty apology, but good on them for accepting(?) it.

“Okay, now that Wren is back, it's time for the obstacle course. I'm tired of explaining so this should make sense. Y'all have seen obstacle courses before. Coming back in one piece is optional, I'll tell Andromeda to wait at the end and I'll stay here and make sure none of you losers cheat.” Guerilla does not get paid enough to deal with us and I feel her. 

It started with loser boy Lewis tripping and falling face first on the mud. I- along with many others- ran over him. Sorry Lewis. We had to jump hurdles, which almost led to my downfall. After that, it was climbing a cliff and landing the jump on a mattress. 

You get what happens during obstacle courses. I was neck to neck with pink haired girl for most of it until the final stretch, where I made it first. Fitz was third and Wren was behind him. Lewis was last, as always. This boy is a true example of a loser, Fitz, not me.

Guerilla decided to give us a break before starting an… intelligence test? Lawrence failed, as expected. Zero questions right, how does that happen? Fitz got half the questions right. I got 80%, good for me. Wren got one more question right than I did. I got outscored by a 14 year old. I need to evaluate my life choices.

“Folks, since we've completed all the tests, y'all get a break and tomorrow morning we have an assembly. There, you will get sorted into groups based on your performance today. I'm going to drink until I pass out, don't disturb me, your dorms are over there.” Guerilla pointed to a rundown shack. 

I only had one word when I walked in. Gross. Even my brother's underwear doesn't smell as bad as this place.

When I stepped in, it smelled like literal ass. There were four bunk beds, so I played safe and got a bunk above Fitz. The shower was freezing, but it felt refreshing to be able to shower. 

“Guys, appear normal. The troop leaders are doing a check on every training regiment and I want a raise. If you're on your best behavior, I'll let you sleep in an extra five minutes.” Guerilla entered our shack 45 minutes later when most of us were all freshened up. 

Waiting didn't take too long, because it was only two minutes after Guerilla announced a troop leader was arriving when one actually did.

Dear readers, I don't usually find anyone that attractive. But this troop leader? God damn, when I tell you she was fine! She had light blue hair that went to her lower back, a scar that started from her nose to above her right eye, electric blue eyes, and a tank top that revealed her arm muscles. She had a black cap sporting the Death Corps emblem on too. She looked scary in a different way than Guerilla did.

“This the training regiment from van SK431, correct? May I see the results of the tests?” She inquired. “To those who don't know me, my name is Lupus. I'm troop leader 172. Some of you guys might be in my troop, depending on your scores.” Please Lord let that be me. “Hey, Guerilla. This year we have a lot of interesting candidates, hm?”

“Yup,” Guerilla agreed, passing Lupus the papers with our scores, “Sirens little cousin is here, right? Van AE382? I recall working with Siren. Cool guy.”

“Mhm. He was a beast on the battlefield. Let's pray his little cousin is like that.” Even I have heard of Siren. One of the Death Corps best recruits. He killed a bunch of people and showed zero remorse. He left after his term was up, however. The top generals would pay him millions if it meant he would come back. If his cousin was coming here, maybe they would be just as badass as Siren.

Lupus examined the papers, eyes widening at some. “You have some good recruits, Guerilla, but…” Lupus whispered the second part to Guerilla.

“Mmm, we're probably going to put ‘im in the clean-up crew. Scores are underwhelming compared to everyone else in the group.” Of course they're talking about Lewis. The same Lewis who was, for some reason, fast asleep. For context, it was 5:21 pm. 

Lupus and Guerilla chatted about tomorrow and sorting us into troops. I also heard something about code names. The code names they suggested for me before they actually chose my current one were bad. If I had to tell people my name was Speedy I would leave Death Corps even if it meant they would hunt me down. I'll reveal what my code name was at a later point. For now, back to Lupus.

She left our shack, taking the papers to the higher ranks. Guerilla praised us and told us we were good little children for behaving and we would get our 5 minutes of extra sleep. Are we going to have our lesson on coloring in the lines next? Are we going to learn the alphabet? Guerilla was only three years older than the oldest person in our training regiment, so her treating us like kindergarteners doesn't make much sense.

The rest of the day was pretty eh. It was just me doodling in my sketchbook and talking to the only two people I was okay with talking to.

Lights out came shortly after I had finished one of my drawings. I can barely fall asleep on normal days, so of course me being on a bed that felt like a brick made it even worse. The next day we would finally figure out who would go where for extra training based on our strengths and weaknesses. I was going to be separated from Fitz and Wren. I was going to be in a war that changed everything.

Chapter Three Point Five - Why am I Here??

I should interrupt the story with some Death Corps lore. It all started with the war for more land. Humans are selfish beings, they always want more than what they have. they were willing to do anything for some land that was discovered. That land also happened to have a bunch of resources and riches, so that made the wars much worse. The war has been going on for just about a decade now. Every army is different, but in the country I'm in, it has the infamous Death Corps. Death Corps was founded by two siblings, Shams and Qamar. Their real names are unknown, but it was founded just before the war started. At first, it was just recruiting whoever wanted to join and whoever was strong enough. Then, they started getting desperate. They needed more support. They let in whoever wanted to join. The conditions worsened, and they had to resort to forcing everyone to serve in the army.

[gay-flyboys]

First Line Analysis

Okay, @read-and-write- tagged me in this while at work, but this is so fun.

RULES: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.

I went with only fics, not chapters, because otherwise it would be wholly dominated by two fics and that's not fun. Though I am curious what it would look like if I broke it down by chapter.

(This is maybe the widest variety of fandoms that could have happened, so I've labeled for ease of... something)

(Life In Full Bloom) (RWRB) "It’s 2024, and one person knows they’re engaged—a tattoo artist who spent the better part of two hours signing NDAs and etching delicate ink into the fragile skin of Henry and Alex’s hands, right where newly minted gold rings would sit."

(Hair Twined With Flowers) (RWRB) "Mud, fun fact, was a remarkably slippery substance after the first rain of the practice season."

(Tornt) (Fantasy High/Garfield) "Honestly, he doesn’t even know how he ended up in this situation."

(True Colors Shine In Darkness and in Secrecy) (RWRB) "10:54 PM, his phone says."

(Oxidation) (RWRB) "It’s in times such as these that Alex is catapulted back to his junior year of high school, studying Hamlet in his early morning English class."

(Still Singin' Here Above the Ground) (RWRB) "As long as Henry can remember back, he’s always been a watcher."

(His Greatest Fears and Wringing Hands (The Loudest Silence)) (Spiderman: ATSV) "'No. No, no no nono, Peter-'” Miguel’s voice can’t reach far enough."

(Across the Rubicon) (JATP) "When Bobby was asked by his teachers about his plans for the summer after graduating high school, he had bragged about the summer tour that Sunset Curve had managed to make happen."

(Sun Bleach) (The Hunger Games) "Despite his reputation and the several drinks he’s downed by lunch, Haymitch would say that he’s a rather perceptive guy."

(The Devil Took Your Breath Away) (Top Gun (Movies)) "The first thing he hears is from the mouth of his soon-to-be best friend."

Analysis!

Only two of these begin with dialogue. This is a thing I think I'm aware of, but not something I consciously think of as something I do.

Similarly, only one of these is less than 10 words. I be yapping. Love me some commas and dashes.

I apparently only write from the POV of masc characters (not surprising, I almost only write MM fics), and it's hit or miss if I tell you who is speaking immediately.

One of these was mostly written by one of my beta readers (i think i edited it a little) and to ME it sticks out, but I'm curious if anyone else can find it.

I feel like, despite my best efforts to encompass the fic in one sentence, I end up being really fucking cryptic all the time.

No Pressure Tags!

@littlemisskittentoes @inexplicablymine @happiness-of-the-pursuit @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable

@anincompletelist @msmarvelouswinchester @songliili @affectionatelyrs @rockyroadkylers

---

Did you make it this far? Sick. Have the first few lines from current Wips. No, i won't say what they're from

"Despite being surrounded by nearly his entire family, Henry has never felt so alone."

"The settee really isn’t made for two people to lounge on, and yet, Alex and Henry manage."

"As Alex turns off the shower, he realizes just how little the fan in his hotel room is doing to prevent condensation from building up."

[kyanitedragon]

I've got a ton of tokyo ghoul fics that are probably going to be permanent WIPs at this point, but they're relatively long and have a lot of scenes that I adore so...

Here's the link if anyone wants to read them

Warnings:

Nothing's higher than a Teen rating and there's no sexual content, just the canon-typical level of violence and cannibalism.

Navigation:

The fics in the main folder are all canon-adjacent. Most of these are platonic Hidekane fics, with three exceptions: Fire n Gold and Human!Kaneki are Touka-centric, and Festival Committee is Hide & Nishiki.

The "Fantasy AU" folder is various non-canon aus.

The "Mint Legs" folder is various stories featuring a full ghoul Kaneki. (His kagune's based on a mint leg centipede. If you don't want to look it up its basically just a centipede with bright blue-green legs and either a black or red body.)

And "Two Steps Forward" is one particular FullGhoul!Kaneki story of him and Hide navigating their friendship post-reveal. As you can probably guess from the name, it's a "two steps forward one step back" kind of deal and it's one of my favorites because it's 99% just exploring ghoul worldbuilding.

[jademint2581]

…Apologies. I was trying to tell a joke.

anyway:

a kaife (portmanteau: kai + wife)(plural: kaives)(a subset of kaispouses)

kaiposting (sprite edits, headcanons, fics), anything to do with Kai Satou (including his family) or kaispouseverse

so this is a Kai blog, contents are 99% guaranteed Kai Satou, with the remaining approx 1% being satouposting in general (Gashu, Sei, Ranger)

occasional floor master and greenblings appearances (one of my WIP is about Shin, Kanna and Kugie)

mixed bin of crack, angst, fluff, just about everything (we go through emotions here)

tagging protocol is not up to date/common standards i confess, but i do my best. sorry for any inconvenience. let me know via ask if you have concerns or suggestions regarding tags or labels.

the most unhinged cursed shit as well as the blatant ns4w is always community labeled and tagged though

this blog is my main blog, which means that i follow and like with this one. chances are, i am reblogging your posts on my other blog. i'm unwilling to disclose said blog here because i don't want minors finding it. please do not out the blog to underage audiences. if you know it uhh no you don't : )

i do not mind friendly interactions on my blog, however, i cannot/willnot form or maintain committed internet friendships. that being said, i can be referred to as 'jamie' or 'james' or a similar nickname derived from my AO3 handle (words 'jade' and 'mint'). i like engaging with fellow humans online, it's fun and i especially enjoy friendly banter in fandom context. if my interactions (likes, reblogs) suck and you don't want them, you can send me an ask to tell me to stop. it's ok and i respect your wishes. i can also unlike and delete reblogs if you need me to. i promise you it's ok to ask me to do that, do not worry.

(post is subject to occasional updates)

NEW! the tags on this pinned post are useful for navigating this blog (yes even the longish ones)(no, really: try your luck~)

IF YOU'RE A MINOR: Filter the tags #ns4w and #saucy before you interact or browse, thank you. For your own sake.

be gifted with an old banner pic of mine:

Works on tumblr: - Tiramisu angst trilogy (Satouposting)

- Ranger & Creativity

This has been your friendly local kaibrarian and kaife. I am satisfied.

-POST END- *thunk*

[s4pphic-sh3nan1gans]

WIP Weekend

thank you so much for the tag, @mint-ty <3 I didn't think I had that many wips to share but after looking through my notes app, there are actually quite a few things there gathering dust that I mostly forgot about 😭 sooooo here is my list, starting with the earliest:

Zame, si čisti dopamin - this is a bojere fic I started nearly a year ago now, based around the infamous tavastia 1.0 gig and Bojan both discovering and navigating his feelings for Jere. as I remember, I had one more chapter planned that I unfortunately lost motivation for, buuuut as it stands now, I guess it's kinda left on a cliffhanger? sorry 😅 but it holds a special place in my heart as I was just beginning to get very deep into my joker out hyperfixation when I started writing it hehehe

This ship of love is loaded - another bojere fic that I never finished and didn't post, this one was inspired by the release of Huhhahhei by Käärijä 😌 y'know the song's implications of fucking someone on a boat? yeah, I took that and ran with it whilst wearing my tin-foil hat and made it about bojere 😭 it's set on the 2023 eurovision pre-party boat and includes the scene of what is now the first snus proposal. ultimately, I abandoned it because I wanted to include smut but wasn't yet ready to (properly) write mlm smut for the first time back then

untitled jance fic - this is the only time thus far I've written jance (which is actually criminal tbh). it's a very short wip so I'm not entirely sure where I was going with it, but it appears to include Nace attempting to flirt... 👀

it's better if we remain a memory - now, this one is a little more obscure. it's based on the film Bojan is in (Kaj pa Ester?) that I unfortunately haven't watched (c'mon, slovenian film industry, make it available internationally, I beg of you 🙏). basically, I watched the trailer, made up a plot, and made it very very very gay. and then posted all but the final chapter before succumbing to lack of motivation again 😭

Immortalised - .......okay, I just realised I was wrong about only writing jance once, this is another time I tried to write it! this one is all about the incredible jance photoshoot by Damon Baker, exploring their relationship behind the lens. not sure why I never finished this one, if I'm honest 😅

Forgotten Nights - here, we have a bokris wip. this one was going to be a classic friends-to-lovers fic, littered with flashbacks and snippets from the past that both of them were repressing. I found that I didn't properly plan out the sequence of flashbacks though, or where I was going with it so it ended up a little messy as I was writing it and eventually I moved onto other things

a bunch of bokris "5+1 things" fic ideas I never got round to writing properly - specifically, I have 8 fics that I planned for 😭 if you want to know more about one, send me a number between 1 and 8 and I'll tell you what the 5+1 idea was :)

untitled damkris fic - finally, this is what I started most recently. it's inspired by Kris and Damon's recent trip to Ljubljana Castle, and basically they flirt and gay panic all day whilst being idiots and not realising they're both actually crushing hard on each other 😭

if you want to know more about any of these, or read a snippet from one, go ahead and drop into my ask box!!! I shall be more than happy to provide 😌

no pressure tagging (and apologies if you've already been tagged): @trips-around-the-sun @graysantimony @paperphilia @electron-road-suspect :D

[ana-chronista]

WIP Weekend

Thanks for the tag @ljubitelj-sonca! 😊 So here are my current WIPs! If you send me an ask about one you're interested in, I'll tell you more and share a snippet (as many sentences as I have WIPs, unless it's a kiss prompt because I have a lot of WIPs and you'd basically read the whole fic so this might be shorter...):

The Best Laid Plans

a thousand flowers could bloom

Prequel and Sequel one shots for Say Nothing

A Bojere/Jance double date fic set during the Nordic Tour

A Bokris kiss prompt

A Bo(Jan)² kiss prompt

The Bojere (and other pairings) no-sex-on-the-tourbus crack fic I didn't post for Bojere week

A protective!Jan Jance one shot

... as you can probably tell, titles are the last bit I come up with 😅 No pressure tagging @technicallycleverdetective @mint-ty and @frikatilhi if you'd like to give it a go!