#he can inspire children to tattoo obscenities on their faces

[compassionatekiller]

🔥 kensei i guess lol

Attractiveness Meme

"Well, I can appreciate the effort he puts into maintaining his physique. He has a straightforward combat style that appeals to me, and unlike some people, he actually utilizes both hands when fighting. I also believe he is a shockingly patient and tolerant man, all things considered. I would say that there is a great deal to find attractive about Captain Muguruma."

[kpop-stan23-writes]

new money san

the san part to this fic which is inspired by this post by @warmau read mingi’s part here

group: ateez member: san feat mingi genre: fluff? rich boi au word count: 1.8k warnings: a few curse words pairing: san x gn!reader

made his money fast and dirty. like really dirty

the only rich people he knows and hangs out with regularly as sketchy as hell

the old money people look down their noses at his new money but still secretly want to buy his brand because wow it makes a lot of money

has the same dressing habits he did before he got rich, just with pricier clothes now. must pricier

those dressing habits: wears whatever he wakes up in or is pulled onto him by a frantic and always worried bodyguard wooyoung

usually what's pulled onto him is just as wrinkled and questionably clean as the clothes he wore to bed

*seonghwa's voice from that one daily log* young and rich

bling bling bitch

f-leeeeex

aka jewels in his mouth, chains worth more than a small country around his neck, rings on rings on rings

has about ten cars that he takes turns driving

all flashy speedy sports cars he enjoys weaving in and out of seoul traffic

a tattoo under his ribcage that says something no one but he understands the worth of

really only asked what it means by some of the people he's let sleep over

got annoyed when people would ask him about it and then tried to pretend they understood what it meant

now when a sleeping buddy asks what it means, he just laughs it off and gives a bullshit answer

even though it kinda kills him inside because it holds such importance to him

scars from all the dangerous shit he pays to do

never ask him about those adventures tho. he will go on and on and show you a slideshow of pics he took and most of those pics will be engrained in your brain for the rest of your life and possibly into the next one

scars from all the dangerous insane people he also does (though those he doesn't have to pay for)

never ask him about those adventures tho. he will get a devilish look in his eye and then proceed to explain in near-excruciating detail how each scar came to be

so how did you, a straight-laced, by-the-books college student, get swept up into san's crazy life?

you're mingi's childhood friend

and as children you swore to each other you would be by each other's side, no matter what, through thick and thin

boy do you want to slap some sense into child you

because when mingi gets swept up into san's whirlwind life, so do you

though you suppose there was some good that came of it

you met san, after all

it started out innocently enough

mingi has this brilliant idea he is convinced can make him the next san self-made millionaire

he just needs a loan

and san, understanding what it's like to start with nothing, offers to fund mingi

fine. great

except san isn't interested in being repaid conventionally

instead of asking for exorbitant interest or a large cut of shares, he asks for a favor

a simple favor, he swears

long story short: it wasn't a simple favor, and now mingi owes san more than just the loan

you don't find out about mingi's deal until after it's been made and he's gone through with the "simple favor"

you pace in your shared apartment, with mingi sitting on the lumpy couch with his head hanging low

you don't have the heart to curse him out

you never did

because who could yell at such a sweet angel?

but there's a first time for everything because what the hell was he thinking? why didn't he ask how he'd be expected to pay san back before accepting his money? who does this choi san think he is anyway? how does he have the money to fund a budding business while asking for crazy favors as means for repayment?

mingi, who has sat quietly through your ranting, snaps his head up and says in the most serious tone you've ever heard him use: "hope you never have that question answered"

his seriousness shakes you and you slowly sink onto the couch next to him and you whisper "what did you get into, mingi?"

things are quiet for several months after the favor is completed and as mingi prepares for launch of his business, you start to hope that that's the end of the choi san business

because you've done some digging after mingi told you what he'd done to secure the loan

and you can't help but be nervous

because this choi san guy suddenly came onto the scene with an obscene amount of cash and no one seems to really know how he earned so much so quickly

at first glance he's just an eccentric nuevo riche guy who likes to live on the edge and flaunt his wealth with flashy new things every other week and wrinkled designer brands

but the more you dig into him, the more whispers you hear about how he really makes his money

the few rumors that have been confirmed are sketchy as hell but nothing overtly illegal, but that doesn't bring you much comfort when you consider mingi made a deal with him

but the months drag on and still...nothing

you finally think that's the end of that

until you get home one day from class

you're exhausted

it's nearing finals and with summer just around the corner, it's practically impossible to concentrate on studying

you just want to take a long hot bath and then sleep for the next week

you kick off your shoes and step into your slippers before shuffling into the apartment, making a beeline for the bathroom

but you spot mingi sitting on the couch out of the corner of your eye and his posture is the same as the day he told you about san and it makes you stop dead in your tracks

"what's wrong?" you ask him slowly

he says nothing, just points to the black envelope that sits in the middle of the coffee table in front of him

you approach with trepidation and then grow nervous when you see that on the matte black surface, your name and mingi's are written in glittery gold script

you pick it up and turn it over and then sink to your knees when you see that on the glittery gold wax seal is the image of two mountains overlapped in such a way that makes them look like cat ears

you remember seeing that seal on the paperwork mingi had refused to show you even after he had told you about his deal

the mark of choi san

for a long time you and mingi just sit in silence

choi san confuses the hell out of you

there's the public image vs the rumors

both are outlandish but in very different ways

you abruptly get to your feet and with false bravado claim you just won't read the letter and go to toss it in the trash

mingi leaps off the sofa and uses his long limbs to scramble after you and snatch the ominous black envelope from your hand

"you have to," he insists

"i don't have to do anything," you insist back

"since it was also addressed to me, i already read it"

"then you've read it for the both of us!"

"it's a party invitation"

"so we just don't go!"

"i don't think this is something we can get out of"

you and mingi have a stare-down

you typically win, since mingi gets all giggly and blushy when he stares into your eyes too long

but he's determined and doesn't back down

with a huff you snatch the letter from him and pop the seal, which you see now has indeed already been broken

you understand mingi's insistence once you scan the letter

because the intention of the invitation is very clear: go to this roof party or else

"right, because i totally wasn't planning on studying this weekend anyway"

that saturday you spend more time than you care to admit standing in front of your closet

what do you wear to an eccentric millionaire's rooftop party?

when it gets dangerously close to the time you need to leave, mingi finally grabs a few random articles of clothing and tosses them at you

you huff but pull on the clothes because wow these actually go together how is mingi so good at that?

you and mingi are nervous the whole drive over and you're both reluctant to get out of the safety of the car

you finally gather your courage and drag mingi after you because you're both in this mess because of him he's not chickening out on you now!

you stand in front of the brick building with the glass front declaring it closed for a private event

a tall man stands at the door and as you and mingi approach, he asks for your invitation

you show him the black envelope and he unlocks the door for you before telling you to take the elevator to the top floor

you reach the top floor and then follow the arrows that lead you to the rooftop stairwell

as soon as the door to the roof is opened, mingi is whisked away and you catch the words "discuss some business" as you and he share startled looks

now all alone, you make a deep breath and glance around the roof

fairy lights are strung up, soft music is playing in the background, and flowers create a pathway straight to the neon bar...and choi san

he's wearing dark washed jeans and a purple button up with black leopard spots (that one from the vlive from say my name era with wooyoung and yunho) untucked with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and he's leaning against the bar sipping his drink and when your eyes meet he gives you a smirk you've only ever seen on a fox

you straighten your shoulders and approach him

once you're in front of him, you glance around at the empty roof

"so when does this party start?"

"do we need more than two people to have a good time?" that smirk is still on his face

"but there's all this space and all these decorations..."

he just shrugs and says "well i own the building, so it wasn't really a big deal"

with his drink in his hand he gestures to the seoul skyline and says "i also own that glass one and that tall one and see that construction in the distance? that's mine too. choose one you like and we can start a party there"

he looks back at you and a genuine smile crosses his lips and shows off his dimples and he leans closer and you find yourself unwilling to pull away

maybe he's not as bad as you thought...

the end?

[arya-skywalker]

Flying Free (Sanders Sides Fanfic)

Summary: Virgil is abducted by aliens and tossed into a cell with four alien children— who (after getting over their fear of the deathworlder) imprint on him as a parental figure. For better or worse, he’s stuck with them.

Notes: Fic in exchange for art by the amazing @alicat54c ! Inspired by a brainstorm with alicat and @droidofmay

There are some things I definitely would have expanded on if I had the time. Perhaps I’ll write a sequel at some point. But overall I’m happy with how it came out!

TW: imprisonment, kidnapping, brief mention of gross food, violence

AO3 Link

———

Virgil hissed and thrashed as he was shoved down the hall, struggling blindly against his captors. Abducted by aliens. Again. That couldn’t be good.

“Stop fight! Stop fight!” The alien guards snapped in broken Galactic Basic. At least, that’s all Virgil understood between gargles and growls. “New home!”

New home.... Virgil stopped fighting to process. New home.... new cell? New owner?

The guards practically threw him into the cell. “Eat feathered one. Not others. Clear?” One said, removing the bag over Virgil’s head and quickly jumping out of biting range.

Virgil blinked, recoiling from the sudden bright light. He nodded once, since that was easier than arguing that he didn’t want to eat anyone.

The guards left the cell and locked the door. His cuffs beeped, disabling the magnet-electric-whatever connecting them to allow him to move.

Suddenly a bright blue puffball launched itself at Virgil and clung to his shirt.

Virgil reared back, about to throw it back across the room— but it was alive. It was chittering and purring and nuzzling him. Then it looked up at him with the biggest eyes Virgil had ever seen. “Holy shit it’s a baby,” Virgil breathed, carefully reaching up to stroke the baby’s fluffy feathers. He said in careful basic, “I will not hurt you.”

He looked up at the other alien prisoners— the closest one being a dark blue lizard-like creature, about 3 feet tall, with humanoid hands; in the corner were two smaller finned creatures, which started pulsing with painfully-bright lights as soon as he looked in their direction. Virgil covered his eyes with a hiss. “Stop light! Stop with the lights! Lights off!”

The aliens said something in another language, and a moment later the lights stopped. Virgil grimaced and moved to sit on the floor, back to a wall, carefully cradling the blue puffball.

The lizard moved closer. “You speak basic?” It asked.

Virgil shrugged. “A little. Enough,” he said. He’d never formally learned the language, but after a few years being tossed around the universe he picked up a decent amount.

“I am Logan. That is Patton. There, Roman and Remus,” the lizard said, pointing to himself, then the blue puffball, then the red finned one, then the green finned one.

“Virgil,” he said, pointing to himself.

Logan nodded slowly. “You will not hurt us?”

“No. No hurt,” Virgil said quickly. “I do not want to fight.”

Logan nodded. “That is greatly appreciated, thank you.”

~*~

Logan watched the deathworlder sleep, Patton still peacefully cradled in his arms. “I do not think he means us any harm,” he whispered to the twins in the language of their homeworld.

“He’s a deathworlder!” Roman hissed, bright red swirls pulsing on his skin. “Monster!”

“Patton is attached to him. Physically and emotionally. He provides warmth,” Logan said. “If he were truly a monster, he would not be so gentle.”

“I’m gonna poke him,” Remus said after a moment, edging closer. “He looks poke-able.”

“Are you insane?” Roman tackled him. “He’ll kill you! He’ll kill all of us and eat us!”

The twins wrestled each other, pulsing and keening and hissing. Logan sighed.

The deathworlder stirred and groaned.

“Roman, Remus, please desist. I believe you are upsetting the deathworlder’s sleep cycles,” Logan said.

Roman suddenly let go and hopped away, pulsing in panic.

Remus took the opportunity to run at the deathworlder and poke his face.

The deathworlder jerked awake and recoiled with what seemed to be a swear-word in his native tongue. “What?” he snarled in basic.

Remus slithered back to the corner, laughing.

“Remus wanted to poke you. He is rather impulsive. Our apologies for disrupting your sleep,” Logan replied.

The deathworlder blinked. “It was a...” He floundered for a moment, searching for the word. “... joke? Not attack?”

“Not attack. I assure you he meant no harm.”

The deathworlder made a strange gesture with his hand that somehow seemed obscene, but not violent.

Remus laughed again.

~*~

Some time later, the door opened. Guards slid bowls of grey slop towards the aliens. One looked at Virgil and pointed to Patton. “Why not eat?”

Virgil bared his teeth, holding Patton protectively. “This is baby. I do not eat children.”

The guard stared at him. “Easy prey. Eat!”

“No. Will not eat.” Virgil glared back. “If you touch him, I eat you.” He wouldn’t, of course. Eating sentient beings in general was not something he wanted to do.

The guards argued amongst each other in growls, then left without further issue.

Virgil sagged against the wall and looked back at Patton, stroking his fluff gently. “You okay, little guy?”

Patton chirped and nuzzled him.

Logan cleared his throat. “We can share. I do not eat much,” he offered.

Virgil glanced at the slop and shook his head. “No need, thanks.”

“You need to keep up your strength. Patton will die if you die.”

“Great...” Virgil sighed, glanced at the little puffball, then moved to sit next to Logan. “You eat something too.”

“This is agreeable.”

The slop was disgusting. But at least it was something. And it didn’t seem to be drugged.

~*~

Roman was.... singing. At least, that’s what it seemed like. Like whale singing mixed with bird calls. Soft colors swirled across his fins, calming, hypnotic...

Virgil shook his head to clear it, looking away before he could get pulled in. But it still sounded nice.

Once the song faded, Virgil applauded lightly, making sure not to be too loud. “Logan, please tell Roman that was beautiful,” he said, smiling encouragingly.

Logan translated, and Roman trilled in response, flapping his fins.

~*~

The cell door opened, and a human kid was shoved inside, crying. The door was quickly locked again. Virgil cursed under his breath, then crouched down next to the kid. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he said, alternating between English and Basic in hopes of getting the message across.

“Want Jan!” The kid sobbed.

English. Okay, he could work with this. Hopefully. “Jan’s not here right now, but no one in this cell is gonna hurt you, promise,” Virgil said gently.

The kid threw himself into Virgil’s arms, hugging tightly. Patton squeaked in protest and squirmed to Virgil’s head, clinging to his hair. Virgil sighed and hugged the kid, trying not to be too awkward. Once the sobs subsided, Virgil cleared his throat and asked, “What’s your name, kid? I’m Virgil.”

“Thomas,” he said, face still smooshed against Virgil’s chest.

“Okay, Thomas. I’m gonna keep you safe, alright?”

Thomas nodded and sniffled. “Jan will come.”

“Sure, whatever you say, kid,” Virgil muttered, doubting this Jan was even alive. “You wanna meet the others?”

Thomas smiled shyly and nodded, pulling away just enough to sit on the floor.

“Alright. This is Patton....” Virgil pointed the puffball on his head.

Thomas gasped. “He’s so cute! Can I pet him?”

Virgil hesitated. “He’s a baby. You’ll be careful?”

Thomas nodded. “Promise!”

“Okay.... Go ahead, then. Gently.”

Thomas giggled and stood, reaching up to pet the puffball and squealing in delight. Patton chirped in response.

Virgil waited for Thomas to stop, then pointed to the lizard. “That’s Logan. He can speak basic too.” He pointed to the twins. “Roman and Remus. They can’t really talk, at least not from what I can see, but they change colors sometimes, and sing.”

Thomas waved shyly. “Hi,” he said.

Virgil briefly switched to basic, addressing Logan, “This is Thomas. He is... young one. Little. Harmless.”

Logan nodded, then said something to the twins in their language, who trilled and flapped their fins in greeting. A far warmer welcome than Virgil had received, but that was fine.

~*~

Virgil suddenly awoke to alarms blaring. He lurched to his feet, careful not to drop Patton. “What’s going on?”

Logan didn’t respond, frozen in fear. The twins were flashing in panic.

“Release all humans to me or I will kill every single non-human on this blasted ship!” The message repeated in English, Galactic Basic, and a handful of other languages Virgil didn’t recognize. Gunshots and screams punctuated each iteration.

“It’s Jan! He’s coming!” Thomas cheered in English, waddling to the locked door. “Jan! I’m in here! Help!”

“Woah, hey, be careful! How do you know it’s your friend?” Virgil grabbed the back of Thomas’s shirt, pulling him away from the door. “It could be a terrorist or he could just sell us again or—“

“I know Jan’s voice. He’s coming to save us,” Thomas said stubbornly.

Virgil groaned. Great. Thomas’s best friend was a terrorist. That’s just what they needed.

The screams grew closer and suddenly the door was blasted open. A human stood in the opening, guns still smoking and belt bedecked with more weapons then Virgil could count. His face was tattooed with scales. “Thomas! There you are, come with me,” he said in English.

Thomas squirmed free and ran over to the other human, giggling and hugging his legs. “Jan! I made friends!”

Virgil moved to stand in front of the other kids. “Don’t hurt them. They’re innocent,” he said.

“Oh please, don’t tell me you’re domesticated.” Jan rolled his eyes.

Virgil clenched his jaw. “I’m not, but the little ones here imprinted on me. They are convinced I am their parental figure, and I’d hate to let them down.”

“Jan! We gotta take them with us! Please please please?” Thomas begged.

Jan looked down at him and sighed. “Really? All of them?”

“Yes all of them! They’re my friends!”

“Sweetie you’ve only been gone for a week. You don’t know them.”

“Yes I do! They’re kids like me and they’re my friends!”

Jan shook his head. “We can’t trust them.”

“I do!”

An alien guard moved towards them. “Hey, behind you!” Virgil snapped.

Jan shot without even looking, effortlessly killing the alien. “Thanks, but I totally knew it was there.”

Thomas pouted up at him. “I’m not leaving without them!”

Jan rolled his eyes. “Oh fine, we don’t have time to argue. Go on, tell your babies we’re leaving.”

Virgil blushed slightly and glanced back at the other kids. “Uh... we’re going. This human is helping us. Friend,” he said in basic.

Logan frowned. “You are certain we can trust him?”

“Thomas trusts him. That’s gonna have to be good enough,” Virgil replied.

Logan hesitated for a moment, looking at Jan suspiciously, then turned to the twins and said something in another language. They flashed and pulsed.

“What are they doing? Stop them!” Jan hissed in basic.

Virgil winced. “Tell them they’re hurting us, please,” he added. “Tell them this human is a friend.”

Logan said something else and eventually the twins seemed to relax.

Jan glared at the twins. “They better not do that again.”

“They will try not to,” Logan said. “It is a stress response. This is stressful.”

“Give me a gun, or a knife, or something,” Virgil said to Jan. “Let me help.”

“He’s good,” Thomas whispered, still clinging to Jan’s legs.

Jan snarled and shoved a blaster at Virgil. “Take it! We don’t have all day, so move it!”

Virgil awkwardly accepted the blaster, then glanced down at Thomas. “Hey, do you wanna carry Patton? Keep him safe for me until we get off this ship?” he asked in English.

Thomas’s eyes widened and he eagerly nodded, holding out his hands. Virgil smiled wanly and carefully extracted Patton, handing him over gently. Luckily they seemed to get along.

Then they were off. Janus in the lead, Thomas right behind him, Logan carrying the twins and waddling after, Virgil taking up the rear to guard against any aliens trying to follow. The rest was a blur. Running. Shooting. Yelling.

Suddenly they stopped at the launch bay and Jan ushered them onto another ship. An old modified cruiser of some sort— with added gun turrets.

Virgil leaped inside as the ship was taking off, somehow managing to land on his feet. “Everyone safe? No one hurt?” he asked in basic, looking at the kids already huddled in the corner.

“We are unharmed,” Logan said, putting down the twins.

“Here! I kept him warm!” Thomas said in English, holding Patton up.

Virgil smiled wanly and took Patton back, holding the blue puffball close. “Thanks, kid. You did well,” he said.

Thomas beamed and skipped over to a seat, strapping in.

“Is that everyone? Hooo boy, we’ve got a whole freak show back here!” A stranger stood in the doorway to the cockpit, holding a cup of what smelled like coffee.

“Yes, it’s everyone! Get us out of here!” Jan snapped, taking a seat next to Thomas. “We’ll explain on the way.”

“Bossy, bossy!” The man clicked his tongue. “Hold onto your butts, this might get bumpy.” Without waiting for a response, he vanished back into the cockpit. A second later the ship lurched into motion.

“Hold onto something!” Virgil warned in basic, which Logan quickly translated for the twins. They did their best to secure themselves, but the seats clearly weren’t fashioned for aliens. Virgil sat next to them, hoping he’d be able to catch them if something went wrong.

The much larger smugglers’ ship exploded behind them.

Free. They were free.

[magalidragon]

Anger Management | fic teaser

a/n: I am loving kickboxing lately and naturally the most random of things inspire me...like an enemies to lovers smutfic where Dany punches Jon on accident. I have NOT punched anyone in the face in my workouts but I did punch a handsy pervert kid when I was in middle school. Anyway, this fic will have SMUT, an angry Dany, mysterious snarky Jon, Dadvos, and BFF Missandei who has butterflies on her gloves. Also weird Rhaegar makes an appearance. I love that weirdo. 😂

"Ready?"

"Ready," Dany said, jumping up and down in place, patting her fists together. She grinned at Davos. "So? Who am I kicking the shit out of?"

He sighed. "So much for teaching you to channel your anger, to control your emotions."

"Everyone always wants women to control their emotions, but men can get away with anything."

"I am not touching that one."

It was true. Not that her eldest brother had any emotions, but if Rhaegar got angry in court it was "passionate" and if she got angry in court it was "shrill." Although Dany did have to admit, spending every other day in Davos's gym for about an hour and a half was really helping with her anger, frustration, and general stress levels. She discovered she was sleeping better, eating better, and even Rhaegar commented on her "distinct calm" in the partner meeting that morning.

It was because she knew that tonight she'd be able to actually mess with someone else. She liked kickboxing. Missandei preferred to just stay punching the bag and then let Grey try to teach her some of the staff-work, but Dany was eager to try out her moves with someone else. It was the competitive streak inside of her, coming from growing up with one brother as her sort-of father and the other as an annoying twit who pulled on her braids and terrorized her. She always had to outshine them.

Now she wanted to outshine this. She had mastered the punching bag, now she wanted to try with someone else. Even if it wasn't quite 'boxing.' Davos said as much as she thought she wanted to truly 'box', there was no way he was going to risk it. "I'm not delicate!" she'd shouted.

"Oh I know you aren't, I'm scared for the men."

Today, she'd carved out exactly ninety minutes to get through this before she had to be back at work to go over briefs and prepare her statement for Rakharo's hearing the following day. She'd managed to get it reverted back to juvenile court, which infuriated Tyrion, but it made her day. She'd be before the juvenile court judge, all of whom she knew and they were mostly softies who believed in second chances, as they should. Plus, the juvenile prosecutors were usually fresh out of law school and she could walk all over them.

Missandei was still waiting on their source at the courthouse to tell them who the judge would be. Dany hoped it was Brienne Tarth. They were going up against Edd Tollet as the prosecutor and as a former juvie himself, he tended to always give benefit of the doubt. It would be Rakharo's day in court and she was looking forward to winning and getting him free. Then straight into a relative's home and back to school, learning from his mistakes.

She climbed up into the ring, bouncing around in place, liking the feel of it. It was fun. "You have a trampoline? I could do this all day," she commented, hopping around.

"I’m sure the lads would like that."

Dany glanced at some young rugby players from the high school who were doing weight training, their mouths on the floor as she jumped. She glanced at her chest; she didn't have a huge one, but it wasn’t bad. The sports bra was keeping her in place, but boys, ugh. She rolled her eyes, knocking fists together. "Okay, get in here old man."

"I have to help Gendry, he's got a bunch of new kids coming in for the session of Faceless training."

"We're teaching children how to move like assassins? That sounds dangerous."

Davos's eyebrows lifted, agreeing. "Don't I know it. He never should have recruited at the playground, tons of parents want their kids to be involved, but I don't know what they think." He smirked. "You'll be training with one of my favorites today. Jonny boy!"

Dany wondered who Jonny was, she didn't recognize the name. She glanced over and saw movement from the back office, shocked at the sight of the hot man she'd taken to calling 'White Wolf' because she noticed that there was a white wolf on his black boxing gloves and he sometimes wore a black t-shirt with a white wolf head on the front, no other insignia. Missandei wasn't giving up info if she knew him, Grey was silent as ever, and most of the time he wasn't in the gym at the same time as her. When he was, he was busy and so was she, their paths never crossing.

He was kind of mythical, she'd decided, preferring to look at him from afar. He might ruin the illusion if she heard him speak more or learned that he was a pig like her previous two serious boyfriends.

"Jonny?" she echoed.

"Just Jon," he said, accent rough. It was like Arya's, Gendry's girlfriend, who was from the North. He climbed into the ring. He wore a t-shirt over black sweats, feet bare, and his hands were bare too.

"We bare knuckling it?" she asked. That seemed a little crazy.

"Don't do that stuff here, this isn't the 1800s."

Jon picked up two pads from the corner, slipping them over his hands. He held them up, smirking. "Let's see how you do with someone moving your target."

"What?"

"Gotta walk before you can run, lass."

She wrinkled her nose. Fine. She shrugged, rolling her head on her neck. Today's outfit was an all red ensemble, her braids hanging down her back from their elaborate up-do at her crown. "Let's do this then."

Jon smiled; he had a nice smile, she'd give him that too. It was entirely unfair how attractive he was. Probably has an empty skull, all the brains knocked out from boxing, she figured. She noted that he had a couple scars on his face; he had some more on his chest too, when she caught him without a shirt. He also had a tattoo along his shoulder and onto his chest. More wolves and what she thought might have been red leaves of some sort. There was a tattoo on his inner wrist, which she caught sight of now, standing close to him.

Duty

She darted her gaze to his other wrist. There was another word there. Love. She nodded to them. "Your fists are named love and duty?"

"Something like that." He smiled again, flash of white against his dark beard. His curls were half-back from his face in a knot. He also had gray eyes. They looked practically black in the dim light around them. An air conditioner vent blasted down on them, sending a chill through Dany's spine.

Or perhaps it was the wafting scent of spearmint, faintest cigarette ash, and...woodsy pine? She wasn't sure, coming from the man she now stood about a foot in front of. He was built, but not obscenely so, not like her ex-boyfriend Drogo, who spent more time preening before the mirror inspecting his muscles than using them. Her lips twitched, lifting her fists. "What do you got White Wolf?"

Davos heard that, whistling low under his breath. "My, my Jonny, she truly has your number."

Just Jon smirked, holding up the pads, squaring off. "Let's go Dragon Queen."

She flung out her fist, connecting so hard with his right pad that he stepped back, eyes widening, surprised. She grinned.

"Dracarys."

[somehow-on]

Notes - 2020

Wiping your ass is next to godliness.

I'd throw a fat man in front of a train for you.

I'm alone in the center of the universe, everyone else is just increasingly complex epicycles.

Everyone plans to empathize until they're punched in the mouth.

I'm always on time, I'm a true punc.

Do I talk to myself? I do everything to myself.

Stay woc.

Nihilist in theory, pragmatist in practice.

Vectorian Grey.

H2650-1, J-bend, 1.25 inch. Compression Washer.

Full grown, adult sized, bangeroos.

How about instead of doing everything shittily all at once, you do one thing well?

Third Riech Feminist.

Lee Moses - she's a bad girl

If I'm going to die on a hill it's going to be frigging mount hillaminjarro.

Never compromise nor coordinate.

Dump sack.

Tracing paper.

Sex, the world's oldest commodity.

Arm Q's: infection vs bursitis, bone spur, IV soreness, basketball, drinking, elevation, some reason antibiotics aren't working

I'm no racist, I voted for Biden.

I'm not a socialist, I'm a social distancer.

I'm a Hooverist.

Other people's money.

Stop taking my chances.

Beautiful/fertile, ugly/sterile.

Get good at hitting your target, or get good at coming up with excuses for why you missed.

Life is for the risk tolerant.

Never regulated.

Sicker than sars-cov'ers, higher than Mars rovers.

60 Watt, 75 Watt

No one has a clearer vision of the absence of truth at the center of existence.

The meek and the brash.

I'm jewlatto.

Your amazing ability to invent clever new ways to be miserable.

Barry White - I'm gonna love you just a little more baby

Admiral Sissy Mary.

Imagine sisyphus getting prizes.

social darwining not distancing.

Wyatt Dykeman.

My life in bits.

You should see the other 7 billion.

Eyes are the windows of the cell.

The Heat of Composition.

The arrows of time.

It's not free will that is the illusion, physical cause and effect itself is illusory, all there is is brain chemicals and/or qualia.

My life as a trophy case to my disillusionments.

Theories on life list.

What is a superstition but an illusion of control?

This country's been in the toilet ever since we elected that Catholic Kennedy.

X is a religion, but not because it's a ethics, but because it's an explanation. Nothing can be explained.

What does the urkel tv show have to do with anything?

Was the most popular girl out behind the school. - 2013

puts the miscue in promisuous. - 2013

It doesn't bother me that people call me fat; I'm just thick-skinned. - 2012

Parezewsky, Mozca.

Vanguard Commodity Fund. VCMDX.

Gleeconomist.

I'm just a tall, hairy, little girl.

Diligence. Due diligence. Owed diligence.

Get yur kit off.

Smart as a button.

Sysiphus laughing.

Bluff the devil.

To sugar in our boogers and cream in our jeans.

The one inch of spacetime in front of my face.

The matrix but it's your own brain simulating your life one second at a time.

God gave his only son as a false flag operation.

Shitposting cannot be refuted, it can only be repeated. - TIB

Can't be arsed.

Breath spilled.

To me, every bumper sticker is basically a swastika. Tattoo.

S. J. Perelman. Mort Sahl. George S Kaufman.

Wide eyes nights late lying awake.

I just wish I could do less.

Meaningless, purposeless, alienating, novelty.

You don't have to hold so tightly to your ideas of how the world ought to be. If you relax just a little it's not going to fall apart. It will still keep getting a little better every day, and you'll have given yourself some room to enjoy what is good in it.

Ethically-Sourced Sadism.

Pathos-Aggresive.

The answer to every question is either everything or nothing.

People are always trying to help me find my wallet.

For a while I was living in my car dealership.

Avoid work, acquire orgasms.

The real reward is the silence and nothingness you make along the way.

Our relationship is purely physical, she's my aerobics instructor.

Pogo - Walt Kelly

Ameianto - super combo. Liniker

MMT is just communism with extra steps.

Crown of mud.

Don't count other people's status.

The emperor is fully clothed but is actually just a homeless weirdo off his meds.

Repeater.

Blackface is offensive, I only ever do African-American-face.

We must protect the children and coincidentally my social status.

Jeff Bezus Christ.

Born and bred and dipped in butter.

VMBSX - mortgage backed securities

Your son is going to grow up loving me, so who's the real cuck after all?

Avarice.

The dead infant is fulfilled. Baby coffin.

Chiaroscuro.

Data Based God.

Laugh while you burn.

Boredom is gravity always pulling you back to earth. Comedy is ramp that tricks your penchant for boredom in to launching you for a brief moment into the sky and closer to God.

Nihilists know the price of everything and the value of nothingness.

Acquisitive.

Speak less, smilf more.

The world is my cloister.

Breads Benedict.

Hose down, pimp up.

Health, wealth, and mirth. Birth, worth, and mirth.

London Fog.

I don't want to be in any club that wouldn't have me as their president.

Recognize the future.

You only do two weeks anyhow, the week you go in and the week you go out.

Use my time machine to go back and kill clippy before he is ever shipped.

It's not about the size of the boat, but the ocean of lotion.

The weight room is where we determine the proper weights for our pitch randomizer.

Failed Utopia. Utopia of the failed.

South of the wall.

Mektoub, my love. Movie.

She wants me to take her to the pound town county courthouse to apply for a liquor license, if you know what I mean.

I only do two things, break hearts and chew gum. And I'm delivered a monthly subscription of gum.

Beckett-head Wendy. Wundy.

I'm a consummate consumer.

Billy Joel: The father of hip hop.

Bask & wallow.

There's nothing to be done. I'll do on. Call that doing, call that on.

Hell and madness: trying to control that which you cannot.

Only reason anyone does anything: to make friends.

We are all united against the past, but in a war against all for the future.

Elena ferrante, the lost daughter.

Paul oster, hunt for herman miller.

Reality is plastic - hypnotism book

Fund the police! Coming straight from the underground.

My life's just a $10M bit.

There's a method to my badness.

Good fences make good neighborhoods.

Someone's gotta keep the bad world from the door.

Dom-text.

Isolate your favorites.

Huey Newton and the Lootings.

Too hasty by far!

Drinking my Soylent, doing my thang.

We only like the beginning of things.

Johnnie Ray.

Having sex astride a grave, the love gleams an instant and then it's dark once more.

Give us this day our daily death.

Live small & petite mort.

There's no small lives, just petite morts.

Gems in the mud.

Mud-miner.

I let you lose.

Air, water, food, hugs.

Shut up, show off.

Friendship is forever, romance is by the hour.

A shoulder to sigh on.

Pithetic. Inspires pith.

Everything is dim, inapparently.

Cum-dumptruck.

Mr. Smarty.

Moist with meaning.

Covid-wife.

Cuddle to completion.

I'm a very adorable pervert.

Still chasing my perfect compliment. Ultimate.

You don't pay me to be doing something all the time, you pay me to do the right thing at the right time, and to know what and when that is.

Melo-chromatic.

Go with Goethe. Go with Godot.

Off-black.

Peddling my piddling wares.

Godot waits for me.

Thick-stick thespian. Dipstick lesbian.

To want something is beautiful, to get it is obscene. Cloying. Nauseating.

I'm not smart enough to say little, I have to say a lot.

Papa Pill.

Pall.

Patience Zero. Seize the delay. It gets better, then worse.

Worrier-Princess. Golden State Worrier.

I'm looking for someone out of my league physically, intellectually, and morally; who I will try desperately to hide all my shortcomings and flaws from until one of us dies, hopefully me.

Greylord.