WIP Wednesday ✏
Thank you for the tags at various points @captastra @darkfire1177 @hibernationsuit @the-lastcall 💖💕
Besties I have not been very productive lately lemme tell ya. I am very tired and have been a bit busy so I've been slackin' workin' on my wips. But that's okay.
Most of y'all have already seen the Faith and Max wip but it's rly cute so I'm gonna show it off again anyway :]
I also have a couple of oc x oc illustrations in the works for the color palette prompts y'all sent me but I don't wanna show those off yet!! I want them to be a surprise 🖤
open tag to anyone who wants to jump in!
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He's standing in the doorway of their bedroom when they exit the bathroom, and Reese nearly trips over their own feet when they see him move out of the corner of their eye.
"Jesus, fuck!" they snap, holding up their hands. "Christ, god, I know it's not your fault because you can't announce yourself but, fuck. It's like the damn dog. He's lived in my house for eight years and I know he's here, but sometimes he sneezes or walks into a room and it scares the shit out of me."
Abraham gives an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders; a gesture they've come to know is, somehow, a sarcastic apology.
How one can tell a headless man shrugging is meant to be sarcastic is hard to explain. In the last 10 months the two of them have built up an entire way of communicating of their own based entirely on half-learned ASL and body language.
Which...
Reese frowns. He's holding one hand behind his back, and has taken a single half-step closer. If they didn't know better, they'd think he was being shy. Or nervous.
Does a Horseman of Death get nervous?
"What?" they ask, the word coming out more gruff than they intended.
Abraham holds out his free hand, signing as best he can with only one, something for you.
"Oh?" they tilt their head. "I'm gonna be honest, if it's not drugs or food, prepare to let me down."
He hesitates for a moment, and then pulls his hand from behind his back, holding it out to them. In his palm rests one of their rings. It's a silver, clunky thing in the shape of a yautja head that is usually one of their staples pieces.
It went missing a week ago.
"Oh!" they chirp, reaching for it. "You found it? I couldn't figure out where the hell I lost it."
"Well," says Abraham, "you didn't actually lose it. I...borrowed it, for a bit."
"Why'd you-" Reese stops, looking up.
He watches them closely, a small smile on his lips.
Reese blinks. Clear as day, there is a face and voice to go with the body and the man, and they've never been more confused in their life. "Wh... how can..."
"I borrowed your ring so I could enchant it," he says. "There's some magic that can enable you to see and hear me as I was before... well, before."
There is heat creeping up their neck. "You could have done that the whole time?" they ask.
He sighs. "Yes," he says. "I just... the last person I did this for... none of it ended well, suffice it to say. But I'd been thinking lately about how much effort you put into being able to communicate with me regardless and I thought... it might be nice to make it easier."
Reese puts the ring on their finger, noticing as they do the surface has been polished back to a uniform shine; years of discoloration from wear and tear erased as if never there to begin with. "So, what, we gettin' married or something?" they ask, jokingly.
Abraham scoffs. "If we were getting married, I'd have gotten a nicer ring."
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✨⚡️ Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ⚡️✨
Tagged by @acountrygirlsfun (a couple times by now, though not actually this most recent time, but I figure it still counts!) Thank you, Caitlin <3 <3 <3
Helix took a deep breath in, counted four flashes of the desperate direct-@ lights coming in from his side chat panels, and breathed out. His voice came out steady, and miraculously casual.
"We understand why you did it. You were trying to keep our brothers safe."
He watched Harp's eyes go wide at the 'our' brothers. Like he hadn't expected the rest of them to claim the Corries. Because he'd been hiding from them just like from the longnecks, he had falsified his—
Deep breath in. Two flashes, no time for longer, leave no silence for Harp to panic in. Breathe out. Keep going.
This is not seven sentences, but it's also largely not complete sentences anyway, and it is literally what I just seconds ago finished writing. Still counts!
No-pressure tagging uhhh @ialpiriel, @goingsparebutwithprecision, @anaclastic-azurite, anybody else who might want to play?
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