#holy fuck balls

[blackberries45]

Sooooo if you'd like to hear the phrase from MK's mouth...

"kill me or fuck me"

Just watch the end of this clip 👀👀👀

[monarchthebonarch]

Hi pookies, unfortunately school is starting soon for me and won't be able to post daily or just i will try to.

So uhh I will post daily until aug 19 bc that's when school starts for me yeyah HHH FUCK

[imnotsorryanymore5]

Lemon ricotta pancakes. That is all.

[analogwriting]

wow i have 100 followers on here and my law fic reached 100 kudos on ao3 at the same time. WILD

[a-very-tired-raven]

OU H MY GOD HES HOT

[marthawrites]

HOLY SHIT I LOVE THIS WHAT THE HELLLLLL

Ange. Pls. You spoil us with your stories pls never stop writing ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Upon reading your response to the servant girl question you have me yearning for a one shot to where he and this servant girl had show interest in one another and decide to act on it 🥹🥹🥹🥹 please if you’re not complete swamped with requests

Sorry I've made you wait over two months for this. I hope it's worth it!

Warnings: Smut. Male masturbation. Word count: ~1600

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

She is nervous when her mother tells her she’s managed to secure her a position as a serving girl at the Red Keep. Her mother has worked as a scullery maid in the kitchens for as long as she can remember, and she sees how bone tired she is each evening when she returns home. That, coupled with the stories she’s heard of the Targaryens make her uneasy. Their expectations will doubtless be high, considering they are royalty, and she fears being punished if she is unable to live up to them.

However, as her mother says, it is time she began to contribute towards the household and goodness knows they need the money.

Her anxiety worsens on her first day when she begins to overhear rumours regarding her predecessor and how the position she now holds came to be available in the first place.

The eldest Prince is a little too handsy, I hear.

Forced himself on her, I heard.

The Queen sent her away to the North with hush money.

Pregnant with a royal bastard.

She prays her interactions with Prince Aegon will be minimal. She has no wish to meet the same fate.

Throughout the day she is kept busy refreshing the pitchers of wine that are kept in the respective quarters of each person occupying Maegor’s Holdfast. She turns down beds, lends a hand preparing food in the kitchens and prepares a bath for Princess Helaena’s children.

She doesn’t catch a glimpse of a Targaryen all day, until it is time for the evening meal and she is stationed in the dining hall to refill the cups of those seated at the table.

It’s then she realises she has spent all day worrying about the wrong Prince. Her gaze is immediately drawn to the head of the table where he sits. She summises that this must be Aemond, based on the brown leather eyepatch he sports. He cuts an imposing figure, long white hair drawn back from his face, his angular features illuminated by candlelight.

His stare is piercing, the blue of his seeing eye boring into her with an intensity that sends both a shiver of fear up her spine and the warmth of arousal pooling between her legs. He pays rapt attention to her as she moves around the table, filling cups as she goes.

When she stands beside him to fill his, he looks up at her, studying her carefully. She can feel the faintest tickle of his breath upon her neck and it causes her heart to hammer wildly in her chest. His fingers brush hers as he moves to lift his cup and she pulls her hand back as though scalded, in the wake of the gooseflesh his touch causes to erupt upon her skin.

That night when she climbs into bed, despite her exhaustion, her hand drifts between her legs, her mind filled with thoughts of the One Eyed Prince.

The next week continues in much the same way. Aemond’s eye never leaves her as she serves wine at dinner and she revels in every little accidental touch that he bestows upon her whenever she is in close enough proximity.

It is early afternoon as she places the full pitcher of wine upon the table. She has been into this room every day since she began working at the Red Keep, changed the sheets on the bed and brought wine, but it’s never occupied and nothing within gives any indication as to who it might belong to.

She turns around, with the intention of leaving now that her task is complete, when she is met with the solid expanse of Aemond’s chest. Oh gods, of course this would be his bedchamber.

She gasps as she knocks into him, staring up at him wide-eyed. “I-I beg your pardon, Your Grace.” She stammers. “That was clumsy of me.”

His lips quirk upwards into the faintest of smirks as he looks down at her. He says nothing for a few moments, his eye travelling the length of her before settling back on her face. “You are trembling. Do I frighten you?”

She shakes her head. It occurs to her that this is the first time she has ever heard him speak. His voice is much gentler than she was anticipating. 

“No.” She whispers. It is only half a lie, but she dare not tell him of the desire that flutters in her lower belly in his presence. She is certain he must be able to hear her heartbeat, such is the power of how it thuds against her ribs.

“Hmmm.” He continues to loom over her, unmoving.

“I should go.” She murmurs.

“I’m not stopping you.” Comes his soft response.

Reluctantly, she looks away, moving around him before hurrying from the room. It is not until she is a respectable distance away down the corridor that she stops, pressing her back to the cold stone wall and sucking in steadying breaths to calm herself.

She is unsure of what exactly just transpired between her and Prince Aemond, but she knows she wants more of it.

Another few days pass by, the lingering looks at dinner continue alongside touches which she is now sure are deliberate. She feels as though she is a mouse being toyed with by a cat, but cannot find it in herself to mind. Their minimalist, yet charged interactions have grown to be the highlight of her day.

She is peeling potatoes in the kitchens when the Keep’s steward approaches her.

“Prince Aemond has requested your presence in his chambers. You are to go at once. Take wine.”

Her mouth runs dry at those words, a mixture of excitement and nervousness prickling under her skin, that she does her best to mask with a neutral expression. She nods, wiping her hands on her apron and making haste to fetch a jug. 

Moments later she arrives outside of Aemond’s chamber door, knocking softly with her free hand.

“Enter.” He calls out.

She pushes open the door, closing it behind her once inside, and almost drops the wine she holds in shock.

Aemond sits naked in a bathtub beside the lit fireplace, his elbows resting on the sides, his tall frame bent slightly to fit within the tight confines. He is not wearing his eyepatch and she is stunned to see that he wears a sapphire in the socket. The wound is not quite so gruesome as she had suspected it might be, the overall effect makes him all the more alluring.

Her cheeks burn as she tries to look anywhere but at him. “So sorry, your Grace.” She says quickly. “I just came to bring you wine, as requested. Please forgive the intrusion.”

She sets it down on the nearest table, turning to leave.

“I won’t be able to reach it from there.” He says, his voice smooth as silk. “Bring it closer.”

She gulps, picking the jug back up and carrying it over to the surface closest to the bath.

It is impossible for her not to stare as she takes in the damp ends of his long, white hair, spread out across the planes of his well defined chest.

“Like what you see?” He asks her, clearly amused by her ogling.

“Apologies, Your Grace. I didn't mean to stare.”

“Oh, but I think you did. And I feel it’s only fair that you return the favour.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take off your clothes. Let me see you too.”

“I-I can’t, that is not appropriate.” Despite her protests, she feels a familiar warmth spread between her thighs.

“I am not my brother.” Aemond says with a shrug. “I will not force you. If you don’t wish to, you can leave. But I don’t think you will.”

“I…want to.” She admits, beginning to push her dress from her shoulders.

“Good girl.” He murmurs, a hand disappearing beneath the water to stroke at himself. “That’s it, everything, even your smallclothes.”

She does as she’s told, but finds she is unable to look at him once stood bare before him, too embarrassed by the intimacy of it all.

“So beautiful.” He tells her. “See what you do to me?”

Her eyes travel to where his fist moves up and down. Much of him is obscured by the water, but she can see enough to know that he is big. Her breath hitches at the sight. “Will you-”

“Fuck you?” He finishes for her. “No, I would not be so foolish as to risk putting a bastard inside of a serving girl.”

She is disappointed by the admission, her heart sinking a little as she continues to watch him fuck his fist to the sight of her undressed. 

“Do you ever touch yourself?” He asks.

She nods shyly and he hisses a “fuck”, moving his hand over his length faster than before.

“Do you think about me?”

She does not know where it comes from or how she is able to let the admission go so freely, but the words have left her mouth before she has a chance to think about them. “Every night since I started working here.”

Aemond emits a low groan, his jaw going slack. “Perhaps one day you will permit me to watch.”

She inhales sharply at this, her core clenching around nothing, certain he must be able to see the slick which now coats her inner thighs.

With a grunt and a stutter of his hips, Aemond comes undone, spilling pearly ropes of his spend over his fingers and into the bathwater. His eye is hooded and hazy when he finally relaxes back into the tub.

“You may dress and leave now.” He instructs. “Next time I will allow you to touch instead of just observing.”

The words make her feel light headed. Next time.

[meggalice]

Did anyone ask for an exhaustive list of my personal head-canons?

You're welcome regardless.

Edit: I uploaded higher quality versions of the images hopefully that makes reading a little easier for you guys <3

[nebuladreamz]

A little different than last year's, but here we are again. To say that this past year hasn't been absolutely wild would be a lie, cause HOLY SHIT MAN

This year's birthday is. A little different for me, but you already have the silly comic to show that so I won't make like a broken record oops

But, despite the changes and hills that life's decided I should climb or throw at, it hasn't changed the fact that I'm so genuinely fucking thankful to the people that I've known since joining this fandom. I'm not even kidding when I say that being here has actually changed my life for the better. I know I said something similar last year, but this time, hoo boy it sure turned up the AMP and test how far I could go.

So, to everyone, both new and old; thank you for being here :D

@garbagechocolate @darkxsoulzyx @smoljeanius @bunmuffin @skizabaa

@tuzesdays @sleepykas @fernzwing @kandidandi @starsketchez

@just-a-drawing-bean @notdysfunk @ilsole @amberluvsbugs @cloudyvoid

@nomsthecat @alfinefalf @nosleepygay @theblog-with-thestuff

@cacaocheri

(Edit: ty kibbits for informing me of the. Fuck ass tagging system)

AND TAGGING OTHERS BECAUSE. POINTS. BONKS WITH HEAD. GETTING TO EITHER INTERACT OR TALK OR WHATEVER IS ALWAYS A DELIGHT

@ohno-the-sun @kibbits @ink-yy @saltyfryz @kaprisvn

@hierba-picante @sunny-sophies-garden @cookiiemancer @sneeblbop @justaduckarts

@pepethehumanz @crystalmagpie447 @woolysstuff @mocha-illustrates @duhsty1

@sanchensky @pillowspace @victarin @witherfide

[I DEFINITELY GOT SONAS WRONG AND THESE AREN'T ALL THE SILLY PEOPLE I KNOW BUT IM SITTING HERE AT 2:30 IN THE MORNING JUST KNOW YOU'RE THERE IN SPIRIT HANDING YOU ALL POPTARTS WAUGH]

[solazu1]

Some more Jay and Tim from my role swap Au, wooden beetles :33

[moonhibs]

Sillies

[right-there-ride-on]

Chronology of Major Gyjo moments (sources cited)

Gyro refuses to leave Johnny behind despite making it a point that he won't be slowed down by him

Chapter 14 - Across the Arizona Desert: Continuing on the Shortest Route

2) After being attacked, Johnny states the only one he trusts is Gyro

Also, early example of Johnny being willing to give the corpse up to save Gyro (even before Sugar Mountain!)

Chapter 27: Tusk (Part 3)

3) Gyro disobeying his father and familial tradition by giving in to his urge to save Johnny (and thereby fight like a 'true man' for what he wants)

Chapter 35: The True Man's World (Part 3)

4) Gyro putting his faith in Johnny to defeat their attacker. When Johnny thinks he's failed, he cradles Gyro's face and asks for forgiveness. (it's a major moment. to me)

Chapter 44: A Silent Way (Part 5)

5) Ok this one is just a little sus but I'm putting it in anyway: Gyro dreaming of that time he slept with one of his patients, only to immediately wake up and have a domestic scene with Johnny. For what purpose...?

Chapter 45: The Promised Land Sugar Mountain (Part 1)

6) Johnny gives up the corpse parts for Gyro (again), immediately followed by them drinking away their sorrows into the sunset. Who's doing it like them.

Chapter 48: Tubular Bells (Part 1)

7) Gyro finds the Golden Rectangle, previously described as, “… the foundation for every perfect structure for beauty" (Chapter 43: A Silent Way, Part 4) in Johnny eyes, and refuses to answer Johnny's question about where he's finding it. The implications of what Gyro thinks of Johnny's physical appearance are obvious.

Chapter 52: Wrecking Ball (Part 2)

8) Gyro sacrifices his hand, his only other point of reference for the Golden Rectangle, in order to save Johnny from a hit he probably could have tanked. Even Gyro looks a little surprised at himself... Also, they are all over each other this arc. Gyro is especially protective.

And, a little later:

Chapter 53: Wrecking Ball (Part 3)

9) Once it's revealed that Valentine intends to kill the rest of the racers (at least the ones who pose a threat to him), and makes an attempt on Johnny's life, Gyro attempts to convince Johnny to drop out, implying that he would drop out with him.

Of course, this is immediately followed by Johnny begging Gyro to, at the very least, help Lucy and see what she knows about the corpse parts. Seeing Johnny's distress at being so close to his goal only to have it snatched away from him convinces Gyro to stay in the race (something that will ultimately get him killed) and theorize how they can use the spin to defeat Valentine (via the stirrups). He tries to play it off but goddamn he is in love with him.

Chapter 72: Ticket to Ride (Part 2)

10) Shuiesha coloring may imply that Johnny is wearing Gyro's shirt beneath his own?? It's got the same collar and everything.

First appearance of this coloring choice is Chapter 63: 7 Days in a Week

11) Exchange of secrets no one else knows (they are each other's most important person!)

This panel in particular:

Chapter 76: D4C (Part 9)

12) And last but not least, thee set of chapter titles ever, in which Valetine attempts to bargain with Johnny to spare his life in return for bringing back Gyro. Johnny refuses, not because of any moral quandary about saving the life of an evil man, but because the Gyro brought back would not be the same. On top of that, he recognizes Valentine as a liar.

When it's all over, Johnny just breaks.

And that's the end of the chapter!

Chapters 88 and 89: Break My Heart, Break Your Heart (Parts 1 & 2)

13) Johnny's Goodbye (I like this scene more in b+w what can I say)

Chapter 95: The World of Stars and Stripes (Outro)

Obviously Johnny and Gyro have a lot of smaller moments too, but these are the ones that come to mind when I think of them!

[ezzakennebba]

anyway bella was 18 and pregnant for only 28 days before she was giving birth.

twilight is a horror saga.

[the-knife-consumer]

Oh yeah and s4 I guess

[isthatacalzone]

living is being in a room of 12500 people who will all shout NINE whenever someone rolls a nine on stage while watching a bunch of nerdy-ass voice actors play dungeons and dragons

[mushed-kid]

the princess of what?

[piccoloswifers]