WIP Wednesday
I have been tagged by so many lovely people: @shealwaysreads @ladylanera @seekstrivefind @halestrom @jakekernerkazansky @tgmsunmontue my undying love and appreciation to you all 🥰
I haven't had much time to write lately and I won't really have much time for the rest of this week either, and I still have several unanswered asks from the WIP Wednesday from a couple weeks ago, so I'm going to graciously opt out of this week's game and instead leave you with a (terribly unedited) little snippet from the Witchy Jake fic ✨🐈⬛
"So, is this magic soup?" Bradley deadpanned. "As magic as canned chicken noodle soup from Dollar General can be, sure," Jake replied cheekily, his red-rimmed seafoam eyes twinkling as he side-stepped the ancient farmhouse table, hip-checking one of the chairs in his path. "So if your mom's tea is so great, then why are you sick?" Jake frowned, "I'm not-" and then his jaw clicked shut and he cleared his throat. "I have a low immunity, I guess." He handed Bradley a steaming bowl, and as he reached up for it something...peculiar...happened. Jake's hands lingered on his a half second longer than seemed necessary, and Bradley shivered at the touch all the way down to his toes. It was a visceral reaction; goosebumps erupted on his skin and his hair stood on end like lightning was about to strike. Permeating within the aromas of herbs and soup, Bradley thought he caught the the distinct scent of ozone, sharp and electric and alive. And as sudden as he experienced it, the feeling was gone, and so was the scent of nature after a rainstorm, and so was Jake. He'd handed off the bowl and tottered back into the kitchen on silent bare feet. "Thanks," he called to the retreating figure, and a baser part of him noted how nice Jake filled out those threadbare sweatpants from the back.
I hope everyone has a fabulous rest of your week!
