#sleazeball (affectionate)

[dirtyd0g]

that sleazy lawyer has me in the trenches, literally giddy every time he's on screen

[bubble-leaves]

If you're able would you mind trying friendship/relationship headcanons for zeki? I love your writing and it sucks that no one does anything for this sleezy space cat. Thanks is advance!

I sure can!

(I don't care what anybody says, this sleazeball needs to be romanceable or else.)

Zeki . . .

- is a completely confident tomcat until he accidentally falls in love

- isn’t the type to get noticeably flustered, of course, considering his salesman lifestyle, but he does feel his heart beat thunderously when you’re around

- is initially ashamed for being attracted to you, as he knows a relationship could be used against him if he got into bad blood with the cartels he works with, and you are too lovely to be put in that sort of danger — alas, you make him weak. Agh, this is all your fault!

- starts treating you a little differently when you come into the shop to buy things, i.e. giving you absurd discounts, giving you affectionate names, etc.

(“Oh, pumpkin, take back your coin, the sundrop lilies have been reduced to just 11 gold.”

“11 gold?! That’s half off, since when do you do half off prices?”

“Since, ehm . . . now?”)

- is surprised to see you in the Black Market at first, as he doesn’t really associate you with his illegal activities yet

- later confides in you with exclusive, private information about his trade deals and debts he’s in

- appreciates the advice and reassurance you give on such matters, but also in general

- invites you over to his place from time to time for tea and chat; the invites increase as you both get closer

- actually shows a bit of bashfulness when you give him gifts; he’s never been given meaningful gifts from anyone in Kilima, and gift-giving is his favorite love language

- obviously gives you gifts as well, half of them being highly illegal flow-infused materials and treasures

- will often touch you with innocuous gestures, like holding your shoulder, caressing your cheek, brushing hair out of your eyes, etc.

- can sometimes hear your heartbeat if it’s beating hard; his 4 ears make him sensitive to frequencies like it

- asks if he can brush your hair after a while of being in a relationship; why? Because Grimalkins value fur grooming in close bonds, and your hair is the closest he can get to his tradition with your physiology

- melts into you and purrs loudly whenever you pet or brush him back

- additionally values snuggling as a Grimalkin; listen, the culture in his blood loves cuddling up with his partner! Partners are the only people they can be so close and intimate with, after all

- “laughs” flatly and unenthusiastically when you spout feline jokes, but still thinks your delivery is adorable

- is lowkey a wonderful cook, although he mainly sticks to a pescatarian diet and cooks as such

- secretly writes to his ma about you like a smitten boy who fell in love for the first time

- will absolutely not get up before he normally does in the morning; if you have go somewhere before dawn, you’ll have to listen to him dramatically complain and moan about how cold the bed is without you and how he’s going to die if you don’t come back to sleep with him

- can’t sleep in, but he'll make it up to you by making you breakfast; he'll leave it upon the nightstand on your side of the bed for you

- will always kiss you goodbye, no matter where he’s going or where you’re heading off to

[justanoasisimagines]

Mixed Singals

Summary: Sirius has been observing a male affectionately labeled as "the smug git" flirt with you all night. However, things are not all as they seem. Can Sirius's confession save you from unwanted attention. Pairing: Sirius Black x Female Reader WordCount: 551 Prompt: "I shouldn't be jealous. You aren't even mine." Warnings: Brief mentions of harrassement. A/N: 30 Days of 30 Drabbles for my 30th Birthday Continuation of this Drabble. Also based on this Headcanon Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Sirius’s fist tightened harshly against the wooden table, eyes fixated on the scene in front of him. What a smug git? Who does he think he is? Touching you like that. He doesn’t know the first thing about you.

Sirius should turn away, but he couldn’t. Not when he was flirting with you. His best girl-okay so you weren’t his, but you could be, if Sirius gathered the courage to ask you. Now he was kicking himself, perhaps the time had passed.

He’d screwed up. Now he was paying it.

“Perhaps you should stop feeling sorry for yourself and actually go over there and tell her you like her!” Sirius’s body jolted, completely oblivious to the world outside of him.

“What’s the point? It’s too late.” Sirius felt a harsh whack to the head. He leaned forward, rubbing the tender spot. Sirius sent James a harsh glare.

“Padfoot, when did you give up so easily? If you want her, go get her! I’d be quick if I were you. We don’t want that sleazeball getting his claws into her! Now go.” James pulled Sirius chair out, forcing him to make a move.

Who’d thought? Cocky, confident, ladies man Sirius Black was terrified to approach you. A girl he’d known for years.

“Now go get her!” Sirius moved cautiously, your eyes found his as he approached. Suddenly, your focus was on him. The smug git, as Sirius had monickered him, was nonethewiser. He felt his muscles relax an inch. Your attention was on him now. He’d managed to capture it. Taking a sip of your drink, you beckoned him over.

He complied, of course he did, it was you. He’d walk on hot coals if it pleased you.

“You’ve not met Sirius, have you?”

“Oh hey.” Smug git’s smile dropped as Sirius closed on you both. He didn’t miss the way he looked him up and down, sizing him up. Sirius may have felt unsure about what he was about to do. He knew, however, he was the best person to be with you.

“No, I don’t think we have.”

“I need to talk to you.” Sirius completely ignored the smug git. Looking at you directly, attempting to fake a confidence that wasn’t there.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” You walked past Sirius and the smug git without a second thought. Sirius smirked, faith in himself returning in waves.

“If I have my way, she won’t be.” Sirius muttered, waking away.

“So what did-”

"I shouldn't be jealous. You aren't even mine." The busy room feels silent between you as you open and close your mouth, attempting to come up with a reason.

“Don’t go on a date with him, go on a date with me instead. I don’t care where, or what we do, but give me a chance to prove to you I’m the right man for you.” You stood frozen, not sure what to do, your mind raced, your palms sweating as you stared directly at Sirius.

“First, yes, I’ll go on a date with you, but secondly, I’ve been trying to get your attention all night. He would leave me alone.” Sirius stared at the smug git in disbelief.

“Stay here.” Sirius crossed the room intending to teach the smug git a lesson in teaching him a lesson…

[reginalusus]

He's a sleazeball.

BTW if I could actually animate complicated things, I'd 100% have his elbow slip off the desk and he'd smack to the floor like a big, embarrassed dickhead (affectionate).

Image description: Fanart of Spamton in the 90s, done in a style reminiscent of an 80s or 90s anime. He appears to be standing in an office; the background mostly consists of a large window displaying Cyber City's skyscrapers. Their lights are animated and they flicker. Spamton himself wears his iconic Big Shot Era suit of red. He leans against a glossy desk, his elbow propped on it. One hand holds a cigarette with animated smoke coming from it, the other has the index finger pointed outwards with a car key dangling from it. He is grinning suggestively with slightly lowered eyelids. At the bottom is a caption for Spamton's dialogue, which reads: "I hear you're my next [no.1ratedcustomer] due a test drive!" End of image description.

[disappointingyet]

American Fiction

Director Cord Jefferson Stars Jeffrey Wright, Sterling K Brown, Leslie Uggams, Tracee Ellis Ross USA 2023 Language English 1hr 57mins Colour

Affectionate portrait of a bourgeois family? Gleeful satire of people desperate to endorse diversity? How about both at once, successfully?

There’s a mixed blessing for the smart film with an attention-grabbing pitch. It simplifies selling the movie, both to distributors and the audience: ‘It’s the one in which…’ ‘Oh, yeah, I’ve heard about that one…’  But it can reduce the movie to something it isn’t really – in this case, you might be surprised to find that American Fiction spends more time on two brothers and a sister dealing with an aged parent than satirising white people’s stupid ideas of what authentic black stories are. I’d say that this movie is closer to The Savages, an excellent but under-seen film with Philip Seymour Hoffman and Laura Linney as middle-aged siblings trying to cope with their difficult father than, say, Spike Lee’s raging satire Bamboozled.

Yet the catchy ‘about’ sticks, and I’m not in a position to criticise that. Watching the film, I was wondering if the family stuff had been added by writer-director Cord Jefferson because I didn’t remember it from Percival Everett’s novel Erasure, from which American Fiction is adapted. But no, the blurb on the back of the book describes it ‘as a profoundly moving story of family turmoil’ – so it’s clearly there, but my mind had only held on to pointedly satirical part of the plot.

Thelonious ‘Monk’ Ellison (played in the movie by Jeffrey Wright) is a curmudgeonly academic and writer whose attitude towards his students is becoming unacceptable to the university in California where he works (for those who like to check on fiction’s relationship to life, Everett teaches at USC.) Meanwhile, his agent (John Ortiz) is struggling to find a publisher for Monk’s latest highbrow novel. And over in Boston, his widowed mother (Leslie Uggams) is acting erratically, and his sister and brother are both feeling the financial and other impacts of divorce. 

American Fiction is, then, effectively two films in one – a comedy-drama about a troubled (but not unloving) upper-middle-class family and a satire about a snobbish novelist who writes a spoof tale from the hood that (of course) is taken for the real thing. That’s an incredibly tricky mix to get right and at least a few people have been wrong-footed by the movie – ‘what’s all this family-reckoning-with-trauma stuff? Where’s the skewering of the white literary scene I was promised?’

I mean, that’s certainly there, it’s just sharing story space with eg, a tour of a care home the mother might move to. But that’s not just OK, it’s a positive, because the family stuff is great, particularly Sterling K Brown as Monk’s brother Clifford, voraciously making up for lost time after coming out in his forties. 

Which is to say, the family scenes are not just ‘funny too’, the biggest laughs we had watching the film came from the interaction between the Clifford and Monk and Monk and Lisa (Tracee Ellis Ross). The writing here is so sharp, so precise, so spot-on. Yes, there are also a few moments of emotional realisation, but as with The Holdovers, I’m working on being less prickly about this kind of stuff – it’s good to feel, too. 

This is Cord Jefferson’s debut as a director, but it doesn’t feel like a first film at all. It’s very assured, walks that tonal tightrope perfectly, marshals the cast well. Maybe that Jefferson doesn’t feel like a first-timer is not surprising seeing as he’s not young (he’s 42) and has a ton of experience writing for TV. But he’s not even got any screenplay credits for a movie. So this is extremely impressive. 

Along with Wright, Brown and Ross, there’s good work from Erika Alexander* as the Ellisons’ attractive neighbour plus Adam Brody as a slimy movie director – with this and Fleishman Is In Trouble, he’s finding a groove as a glib sleazeball. 

I was expecting to quite like American Fiction – as it turned out, I loved it.   *I spent too much time watching the movie trying to figure out what I recognised her from – which was playing Rza's mom in Wu-Tang: An American Saga.

[augustameretrix]

theyre making cutesy merch of love me like i do! by manio which has just about the worst vibes of any yuri I've read with the horny neet and the sleazeball and all that it literally makes my skin crawl and my teeth rattle (affectionate) and knowing the context the merch is creepy too

[jkgnggj]

Lmaooo yeah he redirects his energy with his other friends bc he does not wanna accidentally crush them. And he hardly ever gets violent with Miko or Touma bc again he cares too much for them to explode them. But not toritsuka he's a germ he deserves to be throttled once in a while. Even for shit that isn't even his fault like Touma and Miko will be the ones teasing him and Tori will be somewhere else like eating food or playing video games not even in the room but saiki makes a beeline for him and fucking tackles him to the ground, pulling on his arm and shit till he screams uncle. I just like to think Tori is the groups punching bag slash chew toy. Any violence they wanna wreak up on anyone they'll do it against Tori. Miko had a bad day at work? She fucking kicks Tori in the shin and he's like OW WHAT WAS THAT FOR BITCH? And shes like phew I feel better already. And saiki not so secretly heals Tori each time he gets hurt bc it's the least he can do for the groups punching bag. And Touma isn't as violent as the other two but he still bites Tori just for shits and giggles. Maybe cuteness aggression. He'll think something Tori did was too nice and kind and out of character for the sleazeball so he'll punish him for making Touma think highly of him by biting his shoulder like a rabid dog. It doesn't hurt really he's got the jaw strength of like a Chihuahua but Tori still whines about it and complains to saiki so he can heal the bite mark. Okay but in all seriousness after a while the psychickers don't even hurt Tori that badly like eventually they start accepting he's actually human and treat him better and only playfully hit him light enough he doesn't actually get hurt. All of them secretly love Tori and don't want him to hate them yk. And they can't stop playing fighting with him bc they know he loves physical affection but it's hard to give him that openly bc of their pride so instead they settle for choking him out bc its sorta like a hug. And yk eventually after some time Touma is able to be physically affectionate bc he was never that self conscious Abt it and then Miko joins in too bc she's a naturally physically affectionate person. And kusuo only joins in sometimes when the other two rope him into a group hug. Tho he always initiates physical contact like holding tori's arm or shoulder naturally without even realizing it so it's not that big of a change in behavior yk. Now just imagine the psychickers cuddling and getting caught by one of saikis friends and they're shocked bc even tho saiki is nice and kind and soft with them he's never this vulnerable and physically affectionate and now the psychickers feel so special and rub it in Saiki's friends faces and saiki has to pretend like he wasn't part of the cuddle pile or that he didn't like it hmp!

The main Saiki friendgroup and pk psychics are mostly seperate group right? And Saiki acts deferently with both of them so what happened is someone from the main friendgroup (like Kaidou or sth) witnesses some "weird" Saiki behavior? Like Saiki being more sarcastic and mean or even violent thowards Toritsuka, while hanging out with him. Or he hears Saiki calmly saying "kill yourself" and he's shocked that Saiki, who is so nice and calm could say something like that, even to the germ. Or Teruhashi overhears a conversation between Aiura and Toritsuka that goes like: "Yo wheres Saiki" "oh he's stalking that guy again" "again? Damn he needs to leave that poor guy alone" and she's like "what? Stalking? I never thought Saiki was like that". Or the groups combine and they’re playing "who is the most likely to..." and there’s a question like "whos most likely to tell you to kill yourself/beat someone up" and the psychickers are automaticaly like "Saiki" "Saiki-san" "Kusuo" and everyone else questions if they even know him.

[aritamargarita]

*climbs through your window again now that requests are open* Chyna x reader pls 🙏🙏🙏 don't care what happens i just think she's neat ❤

ANON?? WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? GET OUT???!!!

just kidding. make yourself at home!!! in fact i will make you dinner right now like you’re a saint for requesting this omg. always had the biggest crush on her,,the mention of vanilla is because of me reading chris jericho’s book and him saying she smelled like vanilla!!!!!!!

also cameo from the kat because i love her too. idk if i made this too long or too short😭i hope headcanons are ok if not i will literally write an entire fanfiction i swear i will

THIS ONE IS FOR THE GWORLSSSS. listened to “mary on a cross” while writing.......your beauty never ever scared me!

CHYNA IS THE most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. You tell her as much everyday. You’ve said it so much that the words don’t even sound the same anymore.

—She brushes you off, almost as if she doesn’t believe you. Paid you no mind. There were far more important things to worry about.

For example, the Intercontinental Championship. She won it at No Mercy, but now she’s focused on defending it as if it’s the last thing on Earth. Not to mention she has to share it with likes of Chris Jericho.

But when you had brought roses to congratulate her, she was surprised. No one else had even gone that far, let alone say congratulations, all too bitter that she had even won the championship.

After that, whenever you smelled the familiar scent of vanilla, you knew she was in the room. Somehow, she always smelt like a bakery. She would pass by you or even stand next to you and it was as clear as day.

It was always the little things. You’d offhandedly mention how you liked that shade of blue on SmackDown’s logo and she’d show up the next day with the same shade painted on her nails.

If you just so happened to mention how nice she looked in the color white, she’d show up to Raw in white gear.

During this time, Miss Kitty had been at her worst. You never hated her, you just wish she would shut up sometimes. She was like a gnat that just wouldn’t get out of your face.

“[Name]!” She’d chime, skipping around you. “I know you two have somethin’ going on!” It brought her great joy to hear that someone was involved with Chyna.

Of course, she’d always say “What’s hers, is mine!” So she’d try and snuggle up to you too. Chyna didn’t let her. She didn’t let anyone really get close to you, even the ‘miniature’ version of herself.

Especially Chris Jericho. You’ve had to spend more time with him around the ring thanks to them being co-holders and she didn’t like it just one bit. Who knows if that sleazeball would try and make moves on you?

Sometimes when you accompanied her to the ring, Jericho would come over and talk to you. This of course would irritate Chyna. And just after attacking him, her only excuse is because he was being stupid and she wanted the title for herself.

More like she wanted you all to herself.

Chyna has always been girly. Always. And it doesn’t stop at her own wardrobe. She always is buying you cute clothes, especially ones that can match hers. She’s always appreciated the finer things.

You also learn she really likes the color pink, which definitely clashed with most of her black clothing. It fit her, though. Rarely you’d see her in brighter clothing, but when you did, it was a treat!

She’s more affectionate once you two start to get more comfortable. She enjoys holding your hand instead of kissing you. Her love language is being touched, but she struggles with coming to terms that someone truly wants to even be within her vicinity.

Funnily enough, she had no problems putting her hands on you in the ring. She would toss you around, strike you as hard as she could, and even put you in the most toughest locks.

She’s a good opponent, but it’s easy to distract her. One time, you literally bit her in the ring and she didn’t know what to do for the rest of the match. It gave you an opening for a roll up and you won the match. Honestly, she’d be pissed, but she couldn’t help but to laugh.

After that, you’ve started to do little things like poke her in the side whenever she showed more skin than normal. Sometimes you’d tap her, or sometimes you’d even twirl one of her curls on your finger. You just liked to keep your hands on her and she never complained.

All in all, Chyna’s probably the most ideal person you could be with. While she has her struggles, she still finds a way to show you she cares.

[septembersghost]

Why is Saul so sexual all the time

because he is a sad, pathetic little shell of a man (affectionate...? jimmy is still in there and i love him :( but the sleazy sexual side of saul is SO antithetical to our wifeguy jimmy, because it's deflection) who can't face real intimacy or find real connection, because every instance of love he's ever had in his life has gone up in flames (oof), and left him riddled with abandonment issues and self-loathing so deep that he can only distract and be a sleazeball. he pays for companionship because they will never care about him, but also can't hurt him. it's all an awful shield to keep the inner turmoil and feelings out, to drown himself in noise and distraction at all times so he never has to get caught in his true thoughts or be alone in his loneliness. “he’s more comfortable being saul because he’s not worthy of being anybody else” <- he doesn't think he's worthy of anything else! he's losing himself in whatever he can, and blocking it with smarmy jokes and garish clothing and a monstrosity of a house so he never has to face how desperately sad and empty he feels.

[extantdecay]

sleazeball (affectionate)

[regrettablewritings]

DJ X READER HEADCANON you pick 😉😉

I blink at the request that stares back at me from my inbox, brow furrowing with every flutter of my lashes. "Sis . . ." I murmur, "you good?" As though my ass had not also been search for content relating to this forgotten POS just the other day. But if you insist . . .

4. What they do on date night:

To be brutally honest, DJ will look you dead in the eye and tell you that going for a night out on the town pick-pocketing is a date. Or, at least, he will try to. It's surprisingly hard to maintain eye contact with someone whose glare could probably cut beskar.

In his defense (if he even deserves any), DJ does try to make it a little more fun than he already finds it -- granted, it's done in a very DJ way. You get your little evening promenade through the streets, he tricks you to a quick bite to eat, you hold hands and run through the lantern-speckled streets before turning down a narrow alleyway that's just perfect for sharing an intense liplock . . .

Of course, this all translates into your evening together including: Walking through a marketplace, your asshole boyfriend slipping peoples' credits out of their pockets and purses under the guise of bumping into them; him using those sticky fingers of his to nick some street food off of a cart before its proprietor called the authorities on his theft; said sticky fingers lacing with yours as he guides you down the crowded streets (grinning like the little shit he was for enjoying the chase); all before making a sudden jerk down an alleyway.

You're breathless, irritated, and . . . maybe -- only just maybe -- a little excited by the thrill of it all. But you can't let him know that, otherwise, he'd never let you live it down and he'd be the cock of the goddamn walk for who knows how long. Worse: He'd consider this a win for his insistence that this sort of thing counted as a date! And there was no way in hell you were about to let that happen!

You only got as far as opening your mouth to hiss own some choice words at him when you instead got cut off by your thieving significant other pressing you against the grubby alley wall. Even if you hadn't been distracted by the action to remember to cuss him out, the words were instantly killed. They were inhaled by his own lips, his kiss encompassing your words, your thoughts, your . . . everything. They were speared by his tongue, as though it were his weapon against the beast that brewed within you.

And they were quelled by the feel of his callused fingers brushing against your cheeks before moving onward to the beck of your head, pressing you only further into his hold. DJ's fingers were deft, but that didn't necessarily mean that their carefulness was always directed at you. It's . . . something to savor . . .

Of course, it was meant to fool the chumps following the both of you but you don't mind. Not in that moment anyway. When you get back to wherever you're staying for the night, it's another story, but one DJ is more than happy to bring to a happy ending.

It's a bit nicer when he gets his hands one someone's credits, though: It means he can take you out to an actual establishment. However, be warned: It's only a bit nicer because you also need to be on the lookout for the authorities (or the poor bastard you stole from), or be prepared to make a run for it.

11. What their first impression was of each other:

Dirty. Old. Bastard. A dirty old bastard. And to your credit, you weren't wrong, but of course, the first impression is always the shallowest. And considering the shithead had just tried to put the moves on you when you were already having a rough day . . . Yeah, he honestly deserved presumptions with the depth of one's own navel -- an outie, preferably.

He stood out against the Canto Bight elite with his grubbiness, looking like a leathery garbage pouch at best and like a guy who'd try to sell you a faulty droid at moderate. A dirty, bastardly part of you couldn't help but muse that perhaps the worst he could do was be a nasty lay -- and not nasty in the way one might want, either.

Granted, it wasn't hard to imagine that: The fact he was hitting on you while you were trying your best to just survive your shift at the casino that evening did little to convince you he was any good.

And as for DJ, it was a one-two-punch type of introduction. Literally: First he eyed you, then he got a little too suggestive, and then you punched him. What a sleazeball, right? It was his own damn fault for assuming the least of you, though. You were cute like all the other servers, no doubt, with that shy smile of yours that made it abundantly clear to him that this sort of place wasn't your scene if you didn't have to work there. Unlike the other servers, however, he was feeling pretty brazen about you.

DJ has no interest in the concept of “fate” or “destined meetings”, but even months out from that point he wouldn’t be able to place precisely what compelled him to break his usual protocol of being discreet. Nor why he was so insistent. All he knows was that he called you over to him and, rather than requesting a drink, he “chatted you up”. And might’ve suggested that you two blow off this place and maybe “blow off somewhere else”.

He also knows that the moment you struck his cheek, cheeks burning and eyes widened with the realization of what you’d done, he was wrong and right about you.

You were frankly lucky he turned out to be a blight on the Canto Bight scene, otherwise your boss would’ve fired you the moment he had learned of what you had done. What you were unlucky for, however, was that from then on, the thief started showing up more often. Not enough to get caught (at least, not for long), but enough for him to determine that maybe the both of you really should blow this joint -- in the nonsexual way.

And in the end, you became unlucky once more: For someone so grubby and bastardly, he was also quite the charmer. Y’know, once you’ve smacked him around a bit.

14. What nicknames they call each other:

You honestly struggle to nickname DJ, predominately because, well, DJ is already a nickname. You think. After all, you sincerely doubt anyone would actually name their kid Don’t Join even as a political statement. Really, the fact you don’t know his actual name sort of calls for consideration of how healthy your obviously unhealthy relationship is. But any pleas to learn this asshole’s real name just winds up being like having a namana cream pie shoved in your face, because DJ just turns it all into a joke.

There have been many occasions where DJ would tell you different names he would swear were his own -- often times in the same week! Other times, his claim would be that he’s told you it while you were asleep, or that he once told you but you got conked on the head and forgot it.

Interestingly enough, it’s through these juvenile exploits that he’s earned a bit of a nickname from you: “Bastard”. Just rolls off the tongue, don’t it? To be fair, though, you’re with him for a reason: Even if he may not seem like it, he does have a soft sport for you. Even if it comes out about as smoothly as his features.

In a way, he reminds you of a mutt. A stray mutt. Especially when he shoves his head into your lap after a long day of fucking about and being a menace to whatever society you two decided to hop a ship to.

“You’re like a puppy sometimes, you know that?” you murmur. You scritch into his mess of hair, earning a low growl of contentment from your datemate. He never had to admit it out loud, but your touch clearly did wonders to him. This was evidence by how his already large body began to further sprawl along the couch the ship he’d stolen came with. Yup; just like a puppy. A big, raggedy puppy. Who needs a trip to the refresher as soon as this scritching session was over.

For DJ, on the other hand, nicknames come easily. Honestly, it’s mainly due to how he barely takes anyone or anything seriously: When you don’t concern yourself with all the muddled nonsense of society or wide circles of people, it becomes a whole lot easier to see everyone’s buttons. And considering he was a master slicer, button-pressing was definitely his thing.

Despite the fact that you were a one-in-a-million instance of being someone whom the thief actually trusted and treated with even a modicum of respect, even you weren’t immune to his acts of mockery.

“Mornin’, P-p-pipsqueak,” he’d smirk over a cup of caff, knowing damn well that his advantage of height bothered you sometimes.

“Ea-asy there, k-kitten,” he’d purr whenever your frustration would come boiling to the brim. Things like that.

“Lookie here, dollface,” when he wants to butter you up without losing his stance.

But that doesn’t mean he’s unable to be more affectionate. It’s in there, it’s just . . . in there. The best examples, however, tend to be when the both of you are having downtime and are actually safe somewhere. Or whatever safe could mean when you’re with DJ.

Generally, a jail cell wouldn’t be considered safe. Maybe not unsafe if the only occupants were your boyfriend of ill repute and yourself, but it certainly wasn’t enjoyable. And yet, the way DJ just seemed to laze about in them made you feel unnaturally calm. Well, calmer. It would’ve been nicer if your more-than-capable boyfriend would put those slicing skills of his to use and just busted the both of you out of there, but to DJ, a night in the clink meant at least a few hours of shut eye on a bed.

“B-bes-s-sides: We can alw-w-ways just grab on-e of those f-f-f-floating citadels they g-g-g-got docked out there,” he would reason, making himself comfy on the thin mattress. He had a point, you supposed. And it wasn’t as though you hadn’t been expecting this as a part of your life once you got together with him. Still, you weren’t entirely comfortable joining him on said mattress . . . Maker knows when it had last been washed!

You would be far from the first to consider DJ to be the most observant person, dating or not, but your concern must’ve been rich enough for him to practically sense it: Without hesitating, he sat up just enough to offer you his hand.

“C-come on,” he said. “I need to c-c-c-catch some shut e-e-eye, and it ain’t hap-p-p-penin’ if you’re standing d-d-down there the entire t-time.”

A feeling of mild dread seeped into you, followed by a wet blanket of acceptance. You were going to just spend an hour in the refresher of whatever ship you swept off with. Sighing, you accepted the hand, only for the hold to pull you up not onto the mattress, but directly on top of him!

There was plenty to react to -- the sudden movement, the feeling of being on top of DJ -- but the man himself didn’t seem at all fazed. Instead, he focused primarily on tucking in whatever lagging limbs you had and making sure he was cozy enough to continue serving as your mattress for however many hours he needed to recuperate. Which he apparently was: Not once did he protest to your weight pressing down on him, nor did he grunt with displeasure whenever you turned the direction of your head against his chest.

At the most, he only ever offered your back a brief circle of rubbing with his free hand, the other serving as his pillow, before uttering a drowsy, “You good there, kid?”

And, to your surprise . . . yeah. In spite of everything, yeah, you were pretty good . . .

And yet, interestingly enough, no matter what he calls you, none of that ever measures up to when he calls you by your name. Not pipsqueak, not kitten, not dollface or kid or whatever, but your actual name. Because DJ hardly ever refers to anyone by their actual title, let alone cares to remember it. By not only remembering it, but applying it, it shows you that he does care. It’s deep down -- like, real in there -- but it’s there. And you’re the only non-slicing being in the entire galaxy to have ever cracked that sort of safe.

Wear that badge with pride, Hotshot.

Thanks for your patience on this one! Clearly I had a lot of fun writing it! 💖 💖 . . . May gotta actually start writing for DJ. Maybe.

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 1. Darling Princess

Next

After the sneak peak tested well I decided to post the first chapter. I have many more already written and in the making but I’ll only post them if this gets a good reaction so please if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

Sucking on another cigarette the stale tobacco burned your throat in a way you would’ve been disgusted by years ago. You looked out your window down at the gate, walkers pulling at it to try and get in. It had been a couple of years since Negan took power and more than long enough for you to feel trapped. You held the smoke in your lungs, a small part of your brain wishing it would ignite inside you and let you combust, before letting it out slow and smooth. Luxuries like this were meant to last. Another luxury was the leather loveseat you were sitting on, and the black and blue mosaic coffee table your feet and ashtray were on, and the acoustic gibson on your lap.

You placed the smoke between your lips to free your hand so you could strum the strings. You were playing an old rock balled your old man had taught you what felt like a life-time ago. He didn’t teach you to play guitar but when you came back from scouts playing campfire songs he insisted on teaching you some real music. You thought back on how many of his guitar strings you broke before that Christmas he bought you your own Washburn. The strings seemed to break less when the instrument was more your size. Those memories felt so distant now. As if they belonged to another person or were part of a movie you watched. The lyrics of the tune you were playing were on the cusp of coming back to you when your door opened violently somewhere behind you.

“My dearest daughter” Negan spoke as he entered your private room. You likened his new way of talking to that of a TV presenter. Always having to keep people on their toes. You used to think it funny when you were a kid but it wasn’t part of his personality then. “What are you doing here? Dinner was half an hour ago.”

“I’m not hungry” you shot back not even turning to face him, which would have been easy since the chair sat with its side to the window, but the walkers chewing on the fence were far more interesting.

“Y/N, don’t lie to me. You said the same at breakfast.” He sauntered over. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Lucille wasn’t with him.

“Food I didn’t earn doesn’t sate my appetite” you shot back, leaning forward to put out your smoke in the ashtray. That must have stirred something within him because the next thing you know you were grabbed by your arm and dragged out of your room, the guitar hitting the ground with a sorry sound. You let him drag you without protest, knowing better.

You were pulled into a plush dining room, immaculately furnished with white cushioned chair and a long oak table, set with silver cutlery. There were five sets in total for you, your father, and three of his ‘wives’. You figured this was some sort of ‘happy family’ play he’d act out but you didn’t know who the viewer was. You? The wives? The men? Or maybe knowing you didn’t want to be here was entertainment enough.

You were shoved into a chair next to the head of the table across from Frankie. She looked comfortable while nursing her drink but you reckoned that wasn’t her first. In front of her sat a bottle of vodka, distilled on-site by worker number 12. Fat Joey was filling the bowls with soup when your father shoved your chair in. He plopped himself into the chair next to you at the head of the table.

“Now isn’t this nice. A big happy family dinner before your old man takes off tomorrow.” You didn’t dignify him with a reply, instead motioning to the bottle of vodka in front of you. 

“May I have some, Frankie?” she looked at the bottle then smiled at you 

“Go ahead, Princess”. You picked up the bottle and filled your glass half-way to spite her for that nickname. 

“Thank you” you tried to be civil, as badly as you wanted to just walk off with the bottle, you sipped your glass instead.

You silently started the soup. The veggies were cut into large pieces. Perfect, chewing gave you a reason not to talk to the dickhead to your left. Your eyes were too buried in your soup to see the other two wives staring at you and your father who was boring holes into your head with his eyes.

“How was your day, Y/N?” Tanya perked up

“Same as yours” you replied with a mouth full of carrot and potato

Silence

“Where are you going tomorrow Negan?” Nicolle added.

“Ladies.” Your father spoke out, his tone showing his distinct lack of patience. “I’m not an idiot. I can tell that our darling daughter doesn’t want to share our company.”

“I made that obvious in my room.” Your spoon fell gracelessly into your bowl. “Why am I here?!” 

He reached over and rubbed your cheek affectionately. “Because I love you. And!” he punctuated the final word by raising a finger in front of your face, a silent cue to wait. He stood up from his chair and took off out of the room and down the hall. You took this moment to talk to his wives.

“You don’t have to be nice to me,” you said before starting to shovel soup into your mouth.

“Like hell, we don't.” Frankie retorted, earning a short child from one of the others. You chuckled and swallowed the food in your mouth. You picked up your glass and gestured it at Frankie

“Take notes, Ladies. Frankie doesn’t try bullshit on me” Frankie gestured her glass back. You guessed she’d been in a similar situation, forced to get along with people because it was easier. She didn’t try to be your friend because you knew you wouldn’t appreciate it, which in a weird turn of events you appreciated.

Your father arrived back. It was now you noticed he was a lot cleaner than usual, even the signature leather jacket had left him. Now you were alarmed. In his hands was a pink box with a purple bow. He placed it in front of you and kissed the top of your head. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

“Is it my birthday?” you asked, not quite sure. Time had become a blur since the end of the world. You pushed your bowl away to bring the box in front of you.

“Give or take a few months. I know I’ve missed a couple what with...everything...so this will count for at least one of them.” He placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a little squeeze, your own hand finding its way on top “There’s a lot more gifts coming for my princess, don't you worry.” You couldn’t help the smile that came to you, giggling slightly. You looked up at him, seeing nothing but unconditional love being sent back your way 

“Dad, it’s alright.” You smiled and turned back to your gift. The wives were now watching, captivated by this little bit of humanity at the end of it all. You gingerly opened the bow and lifted the lid off.

Inside lay a military knife, clearly hand-made on-site with a beautiful leather handle and your name carved into the side in cursive. You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. You picked it up, finding it fits in your hand perfectly. 

“It’s beautiful” you near-whispered, watching as the candle lights hit against the metal. In a moment it was lodged in the table a mere inch from Tanya’s hand. You kicked back your chair, making your father step back, and grabbed the vodka bottle in one motion. “Now if only I had a reason to fucking use it” you spat as you stormed out of the room.

Back in your room, you sat in the corner with your head against the cold-glass window, looking down at the dead, only illuminated by the moon. You had killed so many of them before arriving at Sanctuary. Hell, you’d say you saved your old man’s ass more than he saved you...but he was a people’s person. Ruthless. But a people’s person. ‘Let me do my thing and I’ll have these assholes sucking my dick in days’.

That was a different age. Back when your father was a teacher. Back when your mother was sick. Back when your father cheated on her with anything with a pulse and she took it out on you. Back when your mother’s treatment and your father’s lifestyle drained your college fund and you had to enlist. Back when she’d attack you, both emotionally and physically, and you took it cause you knew she was in pain.  Back when you had come home from a 16-month mission because her condition had worsened. Back when the world went to shit. Back when you had to put her down because your sleazeball of a father wasn’t man enough to do it. You looked down at the dead and thought, if you reached your hands through the wires...you could be back with your mom.

Your door opened slowly, heavy footsteps coming your way. There was no need to look. Only one person would enter your room without knocking. “You scared Tanya back there, Princess.” your father spoke in a low voice. 

“She can take it” you croaked, a clear sign you had been crying. He kneeled down beside you. In the reflection of the window, you could see him holding out the knife.

“Please take it.” You turned around, your back now pressed to the window.

“Why?”

“You need to be able to protect yourself”

“Give me a gun then”

“No.”

“Why? Scared I’d leave.” You took a swig of your drink. 

“I see you’re upset-”

“Do you?! Do you really?” you cut him short, stumbling to your feet using the window to push yourself up. “Why am I upset? Because I eat food I don’t deserve? Because you make people die for me? Because you have me trapped in a fucking tower like Repunzel or some shit!?” That earned a chuckle from him, which only served to piss you off. “I should be down there earning my bit just like everyone else.”

“Do we have to go over this again?” He sighed dramatically. He cupped your face, the knife now dangerously close to you. “You're my daughter Y/N. My darling baby girl. My precious princess”

“I was twenty-six when this shit hit, dad” you mumbled through your squished cheeks. He gave them a little loving slap.

“You're valuable to me, which means some people might want to hurt you. You eat to stay alive, people die because they’re stupid, and you live in this room on this floor so you can be kept safe.” you blew him off with a wave of your hand and an angry sigh. You pushed passed him to your bed, twirling to sit on it and start taking off your combat boots. He walked over and lodged the knife in your headboard before kneeling down to look up at you. “I have to go out for a while. Find this Rick Grimes asshole and get some payback for the fifteen men he killed at our outpost.”

A chill went up your spine “The one near the hilltop settlement” you whispered. 

“That’s right.” You looked him in the eye, not noticing how your lip quivered.

“You don’t have too.” you didn’t know if it was the booze or genuine worry for human life but you found yourself begging. “We have more than enough peo-” he shushed you soothingly, his hand coming up to your cheek, rubbing soothing circles. 

“Oh but you know I have too, and while I’m gone I don’t want anyone to get ideas on what they can do to you so” he nodded towards the knife. You pulled it out of the wall, looking it over before nodding, mouthing ‘okay’ and depositing it in your nightstand table. He kissed your forehead before leaving, wishing you a good night. Once again alone you took two large gulps of your drink and laid down.

Edit: For creative reasons Y/N is now 26 at the beginning of the apocalypse instead of the original 24

[dweetwise]

[ooh interesting take! i hope this is ok 💚 also sorry for the screenshot, tumblr put the cut in the middle of the question somehow?? and wouldn’t let me remove it??]

Ace & Jane enemies to friends hcs

I feel like these two definitely get off on the wrong foot

Spoiler alert: Ace flirts to lighten the mood. The others know it’s harmless and it’s more like a running joke

What Jane sees? Sleazy older dude trying to hit on her as soon as she arrives in this hellhole

“At least you’re dressed to kill, sweetheart! Love the pants,” Ace will joke amidst the others grimly explaining the trials

Jane as a public figure is used to being undermined and getting a bunch of inappropriate comments. If he thinks he can make comments about her ass in these pants and patronize her as ‘sweetheart’--

Jane is having none of it and starts calling out Ace as a perv and sexist

The other survs interject to defend him, and Ace quickly apologizes for the misunderstanding. But. Jane still sees him as a sleazeball and Ace, despite being all smiles, inwardly labels Jane as a stuck-up with no sense of humor

So they avoid each other as much as possible. What eventually brings them together isn’t words, but actions

Jane gets back from a trial and sees Dwight sobbing into Ace’s shoulder in an otherwise empty camp. “--You’re such a brave young lad. Now don’t worry your handsome little head about it, yeah?” Ace will encourage Dwight, who chuckles and wipes at his eyes. “You lead, we follow. You’re doin’ great.” Ace pats Dwight affectionately on the shoulder and their nervous leader smiles, seemingly reassured.

Ace comes back from a walk in the woods and sees Quentin sleeping on Jane’s lap. “Did you... you actually got him to sleep?” Ace asks softly as not to wake their resident insomniac “Shh!” Jane chastises and glares at him, but sees Ace looking at Quentin with such relief on his features, she can’t even be mad at him. “We were talking and he dozed off,” she explains, affectionately moving a stray lock from Quentin’s face. Then she smirks “And let’s face it, he’s got the comfiest pillow in the whole damn place,” she adds, lightly slapping her thigh, causing Ace to chuckle.

Conclusion: Jane has a sense of humor and a motherly streak? Ace is the morale booster and gets worried sick about their friends? Newfound respect yay!

They both recognize that they’ll never be the best of friends and that they probably wouldn’t have even gotten along in their previous lives

But they bond over their need to take care of the younger survivors and see that the other is a crucial part of their dysfunctional little family

“Why don’t you go ask your mom?” Ace jokes when Feng is complaining about her broken flashlight. It should alarm Jane how many heads immediately turn in her direction, but she just gives Ace and exaggerated eye roll and beckons Feng over to replace the batteries in the item.

[yamisnuffles]

Your OC as a Companion: Indy Maxwell

How are they recruited by the Sole Survivor:

You can find fliers, generally near old Nuka Cola adverts, asking for tips on collectibles. Go out west, toward the tram that takes you to Nuka World, and you’ll find her in an old Red Rocket that has been converted into a Nuka Cola themed diner and museum.

You’ll find out that she’s not originally from the Boston area, but came in search of some fabled items, including some in Nuka World. She dearly wants to go to the theme park but is smart enough to know she wouldn’t make it on her own. She'll offer to help out on your travels if you’ll just let her look for loot along the way and if you promise you’ll take her to Nuka World eventually.

Weapon: a healthy streak of luck and a modified toy Thirst Zapper gun that behaves like a plasma gun

Perk: Thirst Zapped: Permanent boost to perks gained by any type of Nuka Cola

Romanceable: Yes.

Her first few affinity conversations build from Nuka Cola trivia to an uncovering of her past. In her second to last conversation, you find out that she grew up in a Vault underneath a bottling plant in Indianapolis and that’s how she got her name. It was originally constructed as a massive promotional project between Vault Tec and the Nuka Cola Corporation. The whole thing was an advertisement, from the red and white vault suits and Pip-Boys, to enough cola to last several generations.

In her final affinity conversation she reveals that her great grandmother- several times removed- was the model and voice of Nuka Girl. The vault was actually planned by John-Caleb Bradberton as a way to win her over by sheltering her family, given that he had his own plans to survive the apocalypse. Or so the family story goes. She isn’t sure but is inclined to believe, given that her vault was free of the usual experimentation- unless you count an excessive amount of merchandising and who would ever complain about that? If romanced, she laughingly adds that she’s glad you’re not as much as a sleazeball as Bradberton was and hopes that one day she can show you the prosperous settlement that sprung up around her vault.

If, during your conversations, you express an affinity for Nuka Cola, she’ll say she’s glad to find a fellow fan. If not, she’ll show a bit of embarrassment over what she’ll easily admit is an obsession, but only a bit. She’ll pointedly refuse to answer if asked which she’d choose if forced- you or Nuka Cola- though she’s gracious enough to offer a laugh and a wink that give you some hope.

At maximum affinity, she will sometimes give the Sole Survivor caps or different varieties of Nuka Cola.

Personal Quest:

When you take her to Nuka World and your affinity level is high enough, she’ll reveal that the treasure she’d long been searching for is a safe that contains a few of Nuka Girl’s personal possessions. The safe can be found in the Galactic Zone of the park, in a small building near Nuka-Galaxy that acted both as a trailer for Nuka Girl when she was there on special appearances to the park and as a signing booth for anyone looking for autographs. While Indy is excited to get her hand on a few of her ancestor’s authentic props, she’s most excited about the holotape that acted as the woman’s final journal before the bombs dropped. While Indy considers the contents private and won’t let you listen to the whole thing yourself, you can overhear her listening to it on her branded Pip-Boy from time to time when she’s left in a settlement. Sometimes she’ll even affectionately say things back to it.

Loves:

Joining the Minute Men

Joining the Railroad

Completing Open Season in Nuka World

Retrieving Rachel’s holotape and convincing Oswald to move on

If you successfully complete the Beverageer achievement

Siding with Sierra in Cappy in a Haystack

Retrieving Nuka Girl’s personal affects in her quest

Likes:

Agreeing to help Sierra Petrovita (though she’ll also make a snide comment about Sierra being the greatest fan)

Completing Railroad quests

Completing Minutemen quests

Clearing out Dry Rock Gulch

Letting Cito stay in the Safari Adventure region rather than raiders

Clearing the plant in A World of Refreshment

Helping settlers and settlements

Sleeping with Magnolia

Helping and being sympathetic to synths

Kindness toward ghouls

Sarcastic dialogue options

Nudity

Drinking any flavor of Nuka Cola

Scavenging for junk

Healing Dogmeat

Siding with Hancock instead of Bobbi ‘No Nose’

Speech checks that avoid fighting

Helping Billy get back to his family

Dislikes:

Siding with Bradberton in Cappy in a Haystack

Cruel dialogue options

Giving chems to Mama Murphy

Siding with Covenant in Human Error

Siding with Lorenzo Cabot

Murder of non-hostile NPCs

Addiction

Cannibalism

Stealing

Helping the Institute

Helping the Brotherhood

Hates:

Harming settlers

Harming members of the Minute Men

Harming any member of the Railroad

Siding with the raiders in Nuka World (will turn her hostile)

Selling Billy to Bullet

Siding with the Brotherhood or the Institute

Ambient dialogue:

Initiating combat:

“Can’t I just kick up my heels and have a drink instead?”

“Better keep your distance. Things tend to blow up around me.”

“Here we go again.”

“Zap!”

On defeating an enemy:

“Good to see my luck is holding out.” *laughs*

“BOOM!”

Sole drinks a Nuka Cola:

“I don’t suppose you want to share, do ya?”

“I knew you had good taste.”

“Have an extra one for your favorite gal?”

Fighting a Deathclaw:

“How many of you guys are there? And why do I have to meet all of them?”

Entering Atom Cats Garage:

“Knew a girl here. Wonder if she’s still around?”

Riding in a vertibird:

“Most fun I’ve had without a good Quantum buzz going.”

When Sole picks up junk:

“Anything good?”

“Nothing I might want, is there?”

“Can I give you a hand?”

When Sole is nude:

“That’s the way!”

“Nothing better than the sun on your ass and an ice cold Nuke in your hand.”

After talking to Father/Shaun:

“Guess not all family reunions can go the way you hope.”

[goldhhearts]

nick & bohyun .. !

❤: who is more affectionate in public? in private?

probably bohyun in public. not that nick isn’t affectionate, but it doesn’t come as easy to him as it does for bohyun. but in private nick likes to stroke bohyun’s hair n snuggle .... also take care of him after fights :pleading: 

♡: who is the bigger romantic openly? secretly?

nick is a huge romantic, but he’s not sure how much he should let bohyun know ??? like isn’t that cringe bro ??? he’s still not as romantic as he’d like to be because he’s holding himself back for some reason .... kinda afraid bohyun will leave him if he’s too clingy ... so nick is kind of both secretly romantic but he wants to be more open about it :( 

❥: who is more likely to plan something big for valentine's day?

bohyun for sure!! maybe not some public show or anything, but a road trip to the coast maybe ... just them ... 

ღ: who is more likely to initiate hand-holding in public?

bohyun again. nick spends too much time in his head wondering when’s a good time to hold his hand that he never gets to it :( 

💕: who is more likely to make huge declarations of love in front of other people?

ehhh probably neither. they’re lowkey with that stuff. 

💘: who developed a crush on the other first?

nick, right after that night when bohyun saved from that sleazeball :pleading: he’s never had someone do that for him and he lit rally saw bohyun as his knight in shining armor !!! literally couldn’t sleep that night thinking about him !!! 

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

nick. he just wants to make bohyun happy so bad :( 

💓: who initiates most physical contact?

mehh they’re probably even on that. like i said nick doesn’t really do it in public but when they’re alone he’ll lean on bh’s shoulder no problem ... tho stuff like tickles are def a bohyun thing :3 

💌: who is more likely to send cutesy texts to the other?

nick. he sends these long emoticon filled texts like “hiiiii baby i’m working hard on my piano today (*´ω｀*) be sure to come over so i can change your bandage later ! |(￣3￣)| i love you~~” 

💟: who spends time reading their zodiac compatibilities?

nick, but not from costar or anything. probably from people magazine. 

💙: who is more protective?

bohyun for sure if that wasn’t already obvious from their very first meeting !!!! 

💚: who tends to get sick more often? who is better at taking care of the other?

i wouldn’t say either of them are especially prone to getting sick ... but nick Does take care of bh after his fights :pleading: no matter how bloody or how bad it is he Will Be There that is the end of the discussion !!!! 

💜: who said "i love you" first? or, if neither has said it yet, who is more likely to say it first?

bohyun, and nick signs it back :pleading: 

💛: who believes in soulmates?

nick, and he does truly believe they are soulmates :pleading: