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rae-gar-targaryen · 1 year

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Why yes, your Honour, I would like to lick Jake Seresin’s abs. Each and every one of them. Trace them with my tongue. If that’s a crime throw me in jail.

Well, congratulations, lovely anon. You've inspired something that no one ever thought possible -- Rae writing for a BLONDE MAN, of all people. Pls enjoy this little blurb. Even though it's probably not the greatest thing I've ever written --

your name (on that coffee cup)

warnings: none, just bad flirting.

pairing: jake jortles "hangman" seresin x fem!civilian reader

word count: 2.3k (you've gotta be fucking kidding me) of sweet, if not stilted, flirtation and whatever the fuck this is...

Reblogs make the world go 'round! 🌿💜

The coffee shop was more crowded than usual today. You supposed it might have something to do with the fact that today, the weather gods had decided that it would be the one, annual rainy day, forcing commuters to seek shelter indoors from the "deluge" (but what you considered to be, at most, a decent sprinkle). Southern Californians were decidedly not built for the rain.

You casually observed the casuals and regulars alike filtering in and out from your chosen table adjacent to the pickup counter. Your usual table, from where you'd set up shop, plinking away at your novel with your playlist and the welcome, muffled bustle of customers as backdrop busy-noise that filtered through your headphones for company.

People-watching was uniquely inspirational whenever you were facing a bit of writer's block, so you had opted for leaving the relative coziness of your nearby apartment – content to perch on at this table and allow the quirks of strangers to serve as fodder for your novel.

Except that today, it was more overstuffed than your favorite blue-velvet chair in your apartment. The queue of bodies waiting for their cups of caffeine and their matcha lattes causing the already-warm interior of the shop to fog the windows.

You'd just finished a particularly troublesome paragraph – How your two stubborn protagonists were ever going to set aside their differences as they made their way through the enchanted wood, you weren't one hundred percent clear on. But sometimes it was best to skip the mental obfuscation and jump straight into a part you were excited to write … their eventual love scene was beckoning you.

You worried your drink's straw between your teeth, eyes unfocused, pondering how to get Ser Marcus out of his shirt and beneath Lady Lucy, when he walked in.

Him.

The tall drink of water with broad shoulders and dirty-blonde hair. With a million-watt smile he graced to whichever barista happened to be handing him his coffee that day.

He looked like a Ken-doll, if you were honest. But not in a bad (junkless) way. More of an All-American, conventionally attractive way, if he'd asked you. Not that he had. You had certainly seen him here before. But you weren't sure the same could be said of him.

You watched idly as he breezed past you to place his order in a damp shirt that was veritably plastered to his torso, and running shoes that squeaked with rainwater, the noise making its way over the dull din of the shop.

Perhaps he'd been out for a run when the rain had started.

He spoke to Monica the barista at the counter, out of earshot, though the easy way he leaned against the counter and smiled at her made it clear he didn't mind his own state of dress. The sort of easy handsome of an Eastwood.

You had turned back to the blinking cursor of your doc, thoughts buzzing with handsomely tanned skin and wet clothes, when the unmistakable shadow of a person loomed over you.

You glanced up, only to be simultaneously thankful for your screen protector and greeted with –

"Hi there," he breezed.

It was Ken. In the perfect plastic flesh.

And, really, it was the fact that his torso was directly in your seated eyeline (and no other reason, you swear) that allowed you to notice (appreciate) that his already-rainwet and plastered shirt hugged his torso in such a way that allowed you to observe (appreciate) that you could see the outline of every. single. one. of his abdominal muscles, as though his shirt was made of flimsy tissue paper that might tear away beneath your touch.

No, this was fine.

"Uhhh." You were articulate, you swear. "Hi."

"Would it be alright if I sat with you while I wait?" He gestured over his shoulder with a pointed thumb vaguely in the direction of the pickup counter. "It's a little crowded in here today, and this is the only open seat."

Ah. An arrangement of convenience, and not that he wanted to sit with you.

You bit down your disappointment long enough to ease your lips into what you hoped resembled a smile, gesturing openly to the seat.

"By all means."

He shot a grateful–if not cheeky– wink your way as he pulled the seat out, angling himself to maintain eye contact with you, while still keeping one ear open for his name.

"Thank you, ma'am," he conceded politely, voice still warm and easy, as though no one had ever refused him a paltry request in his life. (And maybe they hadn't.) "I didn't exactly want to stand there in my wet clothes."

"No," you agreed. "Sitting in wet clothes is much more pleasant. Especially in those tight, Baby Gap-sized t-shirts. Everyone knows that."

"Everyone," he agreed, eyes twinkling and allowing you to appreciate just how green they were, glimmering, verdant and mossy, like the forest bedecked with fresh rainfall. How fortuitous, then, that he'd choose to sit with you on San Diego's one rainy day per year. "Teacher? Grading?" He nodded at your laptop, gem eyes flitting over the fading, curled stickers slapped onto the back.

You couldn't help yourself. You giggled.

"No," you shook your head. "Novelist."

"Ah," he conceded. "So whatcha writing?"

And as you made to open your mouth to tell him that he shouldn't really ask a writer those types of question, he perked, and held up a finger as if to say "hold that thought," as he shot up to retrieve his beverage from the counter.

He must've heard his name. Ah well, it was nice while it lasted. You tried not to feel disappointed that your one encounter with hot coffee shop guy had come and gone in the blink of an eye. And tried not to beat yourself up that you hadn't caught the name when it had been called…

To your surprise, he turned back and plopped himself back into the seat opposite you, expectant eyes awaiting your answer as he blew into the small hole at the lid of his coffee cup.

"Ehm," you continued. "It's… a … novel," you finished, lamely. Flushed with the prospect of having to admit to this guy that you wrote high-fantasy erotica for a living, your self-preservation instincts kicking in before you admitted something you wouldn't necessarily have the chance to come back from if he decided to make fun of you for.

And he was ridiculously handsome. The sort of guy who looked like he belonged on the cover of the type of book you were writing, billowing unbuttoned shirt, and all... Maybe he'd pose if you asked?

If he was annoyed or put off by your evasiveness, Ken-doll didn't show it, that million-watt grin easing its way back onto his very pleasing face, prominent jaw and white teeth on full display as he played along.

"I might've guessed," he said. "I'm Jake, by the way."

He held out his hand for you to shake. You responded in kind, allowing his hand to envelop yours with both size and warmth as you pumped your arm in a firm, decided handshake.

"I might've guessed," you parroted.

He shot you a quizzical look; brows furrowed.

"It's on your cup," you nodded in the direction of the cup clutched in his other hand, the corner of your mouth titling into a smile.

"A dead giveaway," he agreed, pleased that you had thought to make the observation. Maybe you were this way with everyone, he thought. All sweet smiles and starry, foxlike eyes, discerning but decidedly available. Selfishly, perhaps — he hoped that wasn't the case.

"Unless of course they had gotten the wrong name, and it's really, like, Jack, or James, or something," the fizzling pleasure of his hand on yours and the swelter of this coffee shop was really doing a number on your head, because now you were rambling. "Then if I had called you Jake based on the cup, I would've been both presumptuous and stupid. Like a 'Mark-with-a-C situation… Cark," you finished, unhelpfully.

"Now that's just unlikely, sweetheart," he disagreed. "You're clearly too sharp for that… Bridget." He squinted at your cup, greeting you with a name that was not your own.

"Oh, no…" you laughed, the pleased sound meeting his ears despite the relative staticky-din of the late-morning rush around him, "My name isn't Bridget," you explained, sheepish about the relative silliness of the game of being friends with one of the workers. "Uh, Monica likes to give me a new name every day I come in. Sort of to mock me for how often I come, I guess? We've known each other awhile. So, she's allowed."

If Jake thought it was childish or silly, he didn't let on, instead nodding and smiling at your explanation, still incomprehensibly interested in what you had to say…

"So that's why I see you in here so often," he conceded. "A novelist who writes in a coffee shop, where she knows everyone. Cute."

Out of any other mouth, it might have sounded condescending. But there was no hint of condescension in his honey-smooth voice. Only the facile twang of Southern charm and genuine earnestness.

But all you heard was that he'd seen you before. He had seen you.

And you must've asked this out loud, because the next thing you knew, he was all smooth laughter and glimmering teeth,

"Yeah, I've seen you," he agreed. "You always look so concentrated, I never want to interrupt. My mama raised me better than that. But today I actually had the chance to say hello. So, uh, thank the rain, I guess…" he eased.

And you'd really hoped that the pleased warmth of flirtatious embarrassment wasn't inclined to show itself in any way, across your face or the exposed skin of your shoulders. Because you were certain those sparkling eyes of his were shrewd enough to tell. And how could a guy like this not be aware of his effect on women? So, you pressed on, closing your laptop lid, the better to focus on him with.

"And what do you do, Jake? If you're out for a run in the rain, you're clearly committed. Let me guess," you tapped your chin in mock-consternation, voice trailing in thought. "Model? Please say no because that would be a lot for me."

Jake barked a laugh at this. And perhaps you'd incidentally, dangerously boosted what was already a high ego. But he continued in good humor –

"No, sweetheart. Not a model. Naval aviator," and he'd actually shrugged at that, like it was no big deal. "I'm at the base down the way. So, yeah, I guess you can say I'm dedicated."

You groaned, teasingly, fucking your head into your arms, "Oh fuck, no. So just a civil servant who looks like a model. You can get the fuck outta here with that." You leaned across the table to teasingly shove one of his (ridiculously sculpted) shoulders, pleased at the feel of him beneath your fingertips.

"It's my honor to serve you, ma'am," he straightened in his seat, taking on his best "official" voice. (Oh, god, this was doing a number on you.) He continued,

"In fact, I think you should let me take you to dinner…?" He trailed off, perhaps in realization that he still didn't know your name.

You twisted in your seat to pluck a pen from the messenger bag hanging from the back of your chair, turning back to pluck his cup from his very hands in a move so cheeky you would swear you were having some kind of out-of-body experience. You were never this bold.

But the attentions of this, okay, let's be real… this veritable Adonis before you was likely doing something dangerous to your own ego, never mind his. Your head was somewhere in the clouds (a place he was clearly comfortable, being a "naval aviator, ma'am," and all)..

You tugged the pen cap off with your teeth, your attention fixed on the label.

Huh. Vanilla soy latte.

You didn't comment on his drink of choice, choosing instead to strike through his name with the pen, and ink your own, your phone number printed clearly and neatly beneath it. Handing the cup back to him when you'd finished, recapping the pen as he twirled the cup in his hands to read what you'd put on the label.

He parroted your name back to you, the way his mouth worked out the letters an image you'd likely think about for a little too long, ya know, later... and the sound of it from his throat ringing in your ears.

"I'll text you," he assured, winking at you as he made to stand, rapping his knuckles on the corner of your table before mock-saluting you with two fingers to his forehead and an easy, charming grin on his lips. "I look forward to hearing about that novel over dinner, ma'am."

With that, he walked out of the shop, taking with him the air in your lungs and your certainty that that had actually just happened, and leaving you with the faintly buzzing feeling of lofty flirtation and the blooming promise of a fucking date!

Eager to capitalize on the fizzy feelings, you opened your laptop lid and turned back to your unfinished section now, wan smile borne of fresh flirtation affixed to your lips, your thoughts swimming in a seafoam green ocean of emerald eyes, breezy flirtation, and, yeah, tight t-shirts...

"It was then that Lady Lucy swung her leg astride Ser Marcus, devilish fingers peeling his tunic from his toned stomach. With a smirk painted across her features, she dipped her head, allowing herself to trace her tongue along the ridges and planes of her lover's stomach, reveling in the feel of each prominent abdominal muscle beneath her tongue. Greeted with the delightful sound of her beloved's surprised gasps, manifestations of pleasure at her attentions…"

And no, you reasoned with yourself as you typed. You totally weren't thinking of green-eyed, handsome Jake as you wrote. These desires were your character's, not yours – you swear.

And no, your thoughts also were definitely not on his promised text message, either, that lit up your phone as you glanced at it. Greeted with the proposition of "Dinner Thursday?" No, you totally weren't thinking of him…

It's life that imitates art, after all... (Or was it the other way around?) And you hadn't had the chance to taste those abs for yourself. (But hope springs eternal...)

Tagging: @withahappyrefrain @thegirlwhowritesfics @xbamboowishesx @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @abibliophobiaa @clints-lucky-arrow @inklore @phoenixhalliwell @ohmagawd-life @thematthewmurdock @mrshipsmcgee @p3mybeloved @decadentpaperduck @letmeplaytheliontoo @vestrangel @moonlight-prose @aphrogeneias @levylovegood @thatredheadwriter @2clones-1kamino @zombieaurora @shadeds-library @writercole @ijustwantedplums @gretagerwigsmuse @fanboysfangirl @shakira-sasha @siriusfahey @joaquinwhorres @jakexfmc @the-navistar-carol @jadore-andor @fanboygarcia @lavenderluna10 @fluffyprettykitty @mickeyluvs @mothdruid @maxmayfield @drew-garfi @eagerforthesky

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake 'hangman' seresin x you #my writing #tgm fic #top gun maverick fic #jake seresin imagine #glen powell #glen powell x reader #lovely anons #hangman fluff #jake seresin fluff #isn't it just like me to write for the white boy of the month several months too late #flopcity usa here we come #pls reblog

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yandere-arts · 9 months

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Have you seen the incident of the girl who took a picture with the help of a knife on social media? How would Ghoat.Konig.Alex.Graves. Soap.And Roach (if you're writing for him) react if they accidentally saw us doing this? (Note, we're not dating them) and I'll even send you the makeup photo with the knife I'm talking about. (this is a headcanons request) have a nice daaayyy 🥰

(For female reader)

A/N: thank you so much for your patience sweetheart! Sorry it took so long to get these 😔 I appreciate the request — it was quite interesting to write 💕 for future ref, I don’t write for Roach or Alex Keller (unless you meant Alejandro 😭 ) since I don’t really know much about them 😅 I also decided to do these in yandere! versions as we discussed and some are post-kidnapping bc I had no ideas for pre

TW: yandere stuff, punishment, torture, cursing, stuff that makes the reader cry, assorted BS, König is horny asf but yk me too 😭 — you know the drill :), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

YANDERE GHOST. 💀

Oh, sweetheart. He’s probably THE WORSF GUY TO DO THIS WITH.

I mean, you probably picked up the knife with intentions other than doing your makeup. Even if this is after his year of endless torture just to « train » you, and you’re completely loyal to him (meaning Stockholm Syndrome has already set in), he’s still going to be furious. He’ll definitely think you were trying to leave him.

He likely went looking for you once he realize you weren’t in the bedroom or the living room, and of course he didn’t want to be late to the « date » (in his mind, at least) that would change both of your lives eternally, but when he saw that hunting knife, HIS hunting knife, pressed dangerously close to his favorite part of your face, he forgot about the little velvet box in his pocket.

Ghost probably acted without thinking and snatched the knife away from you instantly, pressing your body into the cold glass of the bathroom mirror. He’ll hold your offending wrist, a grim look in his eyes.

And all the while, you’ll plead and ask, « why? »

His eyes will snap up, a new fire blazing because of your words. « Why would you ever use a knife to do your makeup? Are you crazy, darling? Need to be retaught how to act normally?» (You probably do after everything he’s done to you 😭)

Overall, a very terrible experience. Likely the worst, and he’ll definitely retrain you as a result of this incident. You lost your proposal and « honeymoon bliss » privileges, and now you’re under this vigilant, cold gaze 25/8. It’s for the best, after all, as he doesn’t want his darling s/o hurt.

YANDERE KONIG. 💣

Two simultaneous thoughts. #1: Oh, how lovely, my little Maus is doing her makeup even though she’s so beautiful! #2: What is that in her hand.

And after he « gently » grabs your waist (darkening already present bruises), he demands to know why his knife is in your little hands. He’s angry. He’s furious. And he’s delusional.

König cares far too much for his darling and certainly believes that they are some sort of goddess or angel descended from the heavens. He simultaneously feels that they are too precious and beautiful for this world, but losing them would result in a bloodbath, no matter whose fault it is.

König will be sitting you down after this to talk about why you shouldn’t lay your hands on his filthy weaponry and why you should just keep yourself within his embrace, tucked away from all of reality. (He does the latter speech at least once a day anyway.) He may also express his dissatisfaction more… intimately later. (He likes the way you were gripping the handle of HIS knife.) It depends on if you’ve tried to escape recently or not or if this incident is just another slip-up in a series of unfortunate events (from his perspective.)

Oh, and don’t worry, with this man’s wealth, you’ll probably have some neat tool from Sephora to help with straight eyeliner in a day or two.

So not the worst experience, but still pretty bad and will result in an irritated König (though some of you probably think that’s a good thing…)

YANDERE GRAVES. 🥧

(Yes, I did make his emoji American Apple Pie, and yes, I do think it’s funny asf. Leave me alone.)

« Watcha got there, doll? Seems a little much for a little lady like you to handle. Here, lemme help, » Dumbledore he said calmly.

Of course, he’s no happy camper when he sees that knife in your hands, but are any of them???

Graves would be one of the most calm of the COD boys in this situation. He’s upset, that’s for sure, and you can feel his pine aftershave burning your nostrils as he snatches the blade away. His tone is neutral but the tightness in his neck and jaw give away his anger. Tread lightly.

This would probably serve as another example to him of why you were so fragile and needed to be locked away in the first place. If he hasn’t taken you already, it’ll happen soon.

Graves would have a very strict ideology of « I’m the only one who can hurt her, and that’s final. » He doesn’t even want you to have control over yourself. He’s so possessive that he doesn’t even want you to be controlled by anyone other than him. (Which also means cutting ties with your friends/family, getting fired suddenly from work, and him always breathing down your neck (sometimes literally.))

You’ll see repercussions for this, but he’ll still go light on you. Don’t forget that he’s a hardened solider, though, so his definition of light might be completely different from any civilian’s.

YANDERE SOAP. 🧼

Probably has the best reaction out of all of them. He won’t be very happy, but he’ll still find the situation a bit funny.

He stands there completely in shock and in awe and a bit frightened of you, but it still brings a chuckle out. Soap will make you think that it’s all a game and you’re just the silliest girlie on the planet until you put that knife down to do mascara and suddenly it and every other sharp object in the house is gone.

I think Soap would be a more laid-back yandere, so he’ll only react poorly if you act poorly (meaning you present a threat to yourself or him.) He’s very lenient though, and once or twice let his guard down for longer than usual. But the minute you do something stupid, he’s internally panicking and scolding you and himself.

Don’t give this poor guy any more problems, please.

Like the others, he’ll have a chat with you. He’s lost a good number of important people in his life and certainly doesn’t to lose another, so if you truly care about him, you’ll listen. That’s his reasoning.

But if you value your freedom and sanity, maybe it’s best to not look a wooden horse in its mouth and allow for an incident like this to happen again. Soap is soft and bubbly around you until he’s harsh and rough.

#yandere cod #yandere ghost #yandere konig #yandere soap #phillip graves #yandere headcanons #literally several months late and i severely apologize but i got sick and work sucked my soul out like a damn hoover

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wispscribbles · 2 months

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When I finish my ghoap Christmas oneshot that I started way back in start December, and have been struggling with since, then it’s over for you fools 🎅

#maybe it will be done by next Christmas lol #god no I’m scared of jinxing it #it’s not even THAT long I’ve just constantly had to step away from it and start over #and I don’t even think it’s good 😭 but I want it done #and there are bits I like that I want to share so I need to finish this bitch #y’all better be ready to find some leftover Christmas cheer when I post it #we will pretend that it isn’t several months late 😀#they kill Santa and it’s funny and I don’t want to leave that forever in my wips #correction: they kill someone dressed as Santa but they take it very seriously #it has very much the same vibe as ‘Clue’ did and ppl enjoyed that one a lot #so I hope I’m just overly critical of myself and that this fic is actually alright #how did I write clue in one night????? where did that superpower go????#might share some snippets at some point idk #wispy update

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nycticeivs · 10 months

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Harness appreciation post for the girlies lol ✨ normalize wearing silly little harnesses with your coords! Harnesses are just belts with extra steps!

#egl community #kuro lolita #gothic lolita #goth lolita #gothic fashion #actually I haven't worn a harness with a coord in several months because im all about obnoxious corsets or big belts lately but still #miho matsuda #moi meme moitie #egl coord #lolita fashion #egl

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its-tea-time-darling · 2 months

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things i did NOT like about shadow and bone (netflix):

the darkling looks Old. he's supposed to look the same age as all the other main protagonists. this highlights alina's future of staying the same & young where everyone around her dies. it also blurs the line between good and evil more bc 'oh he's the older bad guy' is just such an easy solve. also while ben barnes is a snack imo the darkling was supposed to have a more alluring, youthful magnetism.

making genya's scars barely a few scratches. she's supposed to objectively have lost her former self perfected beauty!!! this is a thing!!! she doesn't just have some deep scars, she's supposed to look hideous at first sight, where is show adaptation teams' courage to show characters that are supposed to be mutilated as just that???? i promise audiences can survive on literally everyone else on the cast being very stereotypically pretty/handsome 🙄🙄🙄🙄

changing wesper's storyline so that they had a one night stand before canon sets in??? what kind of bullshit is that??? fucking robbing me of the "just girls?" -"not just girls" gay ANgST will they won't they, does jesper like him too, will they ever - BAM. KISS. !!!!!!! succession??? making wylan cute and awkward does NOT compensate their book storyline At All what were those show writers thinking??? 😭😭

this one i will forgive but i still rly liked it in the books so im a tad sad they didn't manage to include it: that alina has a time where she thinks she is morozova's second daughter's descendant. in many respects she has learned she is Special, and the shame she feels when she realizes this isn't another one of these cases, this isn't a way to finally show her A Path, that in this respect she is ordinary and mal is tied to fate that way, that's just such a good touch.

malina going seperate ways. what happened to "they had an ordinary life full of ordinary things--if love can ever be called that."????? "choice is true north" my ASS 😤😤😤😤 malina have always been in love and will always be in love idc abt the firebird amplifier thing that was just sth they had to do they've always been people and they've always loved each other there is no way around it

things i DID like about shadow and bone (netflix)

david and genya. specifically the delivery of the lines "I … I don’t understand half of what goes on around me. I don’t get jokes or sunsets or poetry, but I know metal. Beauty was your armor. Fragile stuff, all show. But what’s inside you? That’s steel. It’s brave and unbreakable. And it doesn’t need fixing. You don't need fixing."

genya telling the queen how she poisoned the king, and genya spitting at nikolai how his apologies are of no use and that he needs to prove a better king. generally just genya. 💞

nikolai sending his mother away + what he says to her.

all the malina flashbacks to the meadow <33

malina last night together 😳😳 they love each other sm!!!!!

the scene at morozova's home. baghra sharing her past, all the reveals happening there, and of course the darkling weeping over his mother's body. "know that i loved you. know that it wasn't enough." like OkAY.

sankta neyar's speech. so deeply touching, and doesn't just apply to immortals but to all of us who have been hurt and suffered loss before.

the darkling begging alina to let him be her monster. A+ delivery.

"How will you have me? Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch? I will have you without armour, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all." generally the entirety of kanej in this show. inej's hallucination. the mirroring to the last scene. breathtaking showstopping flawless.

little rabbit.

#shadow and bone #that's all for now #who is late to the party by several months? it's TEA 😃🎉🎉🎉🎉#txt #shadow and bone netflix #sab #six of crows #soc #wesper #malina #kanej #long post

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