#JT anon

[misshoneyimhome]

Hey jt anon here just wondering if you have future plans for more writes about him

Well hello there jt anon 🤗

For now my writing plans are pretty much just my 「WIPs」 - so, he’s there but that’s about it 😉🤍

Btw, I assume you’re referring to John Tavares, since I just got a request on him, but please correct me if I’m wrong 🙃

[finiffy]

I'm gay for your art, don't question it, but your art is✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

-J.T

Aa thanks! I never really thought of my art being all that special but still it makes me happy that other people like it

[killakalx]

Size kink constantly on the brain omgg I'm super short so either Dick or Jason would tower over me and like I can just imagine them leaning down to whisper in readers ear 😭 rrly wishing I could send pics to better illustrate BUT U GET THE IDEA

-⭐️

i only talk about a size kink with jason bc dick’s 5’10 (i think) and i’m pushing 5’8, so i’m more so into dick casually displaying that he’s stronger than you on random occasions. does it still count as a size kink if it’s you wanting to gnaw on his arms like a jawbreaker? you play around with him so often and he reminds you that he can fold you in half if he really wanted to by holding your wrists real tight and trapping you in his arms. bicep digging into your neck n shit… i’d ride his arm if i could i swear

jason though. jason… jason 🫠🫠🫠🫠 i think he just loves sneaking up on you. it’s hot with him because it’s so painfully obvious he’s bigger than you, and you aren’t scared of your boyfriend but knowing someone as big as him can still hide his presence up until he wants to be discovered is so. god i think about it way too often. you could be cooking and he’s hovering over your shoulder, all you feel is this overwhelming presence behind you and the sudden hand on your waist confirms it was simply your ox of a bf.

i think they’re both very fond of coming up on you at parties (or anywhere in public) and whispering absolutely disgusting things in your ear out of no where. dick’s sneaking up on you and asking “you wanna use the mirror tonight? you should let me get that dress off for ya.” he leaves his comments suggestive, but the charmed and hushed tone he uses makes you weak in the knees every time. you tell him it’s embarrassing when he’s very obviously getting you all hot on purpose, but he swears it was just a silly question.

jason’s more forthright and touchy with it, probably pulling your ass up against his pelvis while telling you he’s got plans to fuck you until you go dumb on his cock. “you’re in for it, you know that right? gonna use that pretty cunt til you can’t fuckin’ think.” all while hunching over to your ear, hands on your waist and pinching while pulling you closer. he’s got a very nasty lack of filter and he loves acting like he doesn’t have the slightest idea of why you’re so wet when you coyly tug him into the bathroom.

[jtl07]

Prompt: Hickey 💋

anon you’re brilliant with these prompts lol - for this one, let’s go with some kind of modern cafe au 

“Are you mad at Beatrice or something?” 

Ava jumps at the voice behind her, would’ve whacked Hans in the face had it not been for his expertly timed dodge. “What? No - of course not -” 

Hans cuts off her fluster with a raised eyebrow. “Then why have you been glaring at her all morning?” 

“I’m not glaring,” Ava mutters as she goes back to cleaning the already clean counter with her damp towel.

The ‘her’ in question is seated at the table she usually takes by the window, book in hand like always on the weekends. Unlike the weekdays, Beatrice lets herself linger, lets herself loosen: hair pulled back in a bun but not as tight, evidenced by the handful of strands she reaches up to tuck behind her ear every few minutes. The ends of her hair brush the side of her neck where the subject of Ava’s not-glaring sits, red and prominent.  

It had been a surprise to notice the mark when Beatrice had stepped up to the counter to ask for her usual weekend order (a lavender London Fog that Ava had convinced her to try several weeks ago because you deserve to treat yourself, Bea and, to Ava’s giddy delight, Beatrice hasn’t strayed from it since) but it’s not that Ava wasn’t happy for Beatrice, she was! Very happy for her! And proud of her for owning it, not hiding it, not hiding herself. 

Still. 

“I’m sorry to bother,” and Ava jumps a second time, Hans dodging her flying limbs yet again, and turns to find Beatrice at the counter with her beautiful, marred neck. It’s a good neck, Ava thinks; wonders how whoever left the mark had been able to restrain themselves to leaving only one. 

“It’s no bother at all,” Hans answers and Ava realizes she’d completely missed Beatrice’s request. Hans hands Beatrice a glass of water, then - to Ava’s utter horror - gestures towards Beatrice’s neck. “Wild night?” he asks grinning as he casts a not-so-subtle glance at Ava, who very barely keeps from kicking him.

Beatrice blinks, her hand rising up to the side of her neck. “Oh, this?” She laughs, wry, and screw kicking Hans in the shins, Ava’s going to strangle him because the last thing she wants is to hear this, to hear about someone else’s hands on Beatrice, someone else’s mouth - 

“We were training gi chokes at BJJ yesterday,” Beatrice explains, her eyes flitting from Hans to Ava. “My partner needed a bit of extra practice.” 

Ava blinks. “So it’s a gi hickey?” she blurts out before she realizes her mouth has opened. 

A laugh surprises its way past Beatrice’s lips. “I suppose,” she says. Frowns. “It’s not … inappropriate is it? I’m afraid I don’t have much, well, any experience with hickeys in general -” 

“No, it’s great,” Ava says, stepping closer to reassure - only to bump into the edge of the counter. “It looks good on you. You should get more.” Winces, at her words words and the sore spot at her ribs. 

Beatrice blushes, but to Ava’s surprise, she doesn’t back down. Doesn't look away - instead, eyes her ever closer. “Is -” Ava watches a flash of pink licks across Beatrice's bottom lip “- Are you offering?”

Ava’s jaw goes slack and her mind goes blank for who knows how long - she recovers only by the sound of Hans’ snort behind her (she throws the damp towel on the counter behind her without looking and hears the satisfying slap and muffled gasp when it lands on Hans’ face). “I mean, I’d take you out to dinner first.” 

Beatrice nods fervently, somehow even redder than before. The blush climbs up her neck, the mark there blending in, as if washed away.

Ava grins. She’ll give her a real one soon enough. 

[sarcasticscribbles]

I know you said NotJon! is hot because he's not Jon but I still think about your original hot Jon design every day.

Cult leader video Jon? Hot man.

Long haired levitating Jon? Hot man.

The evidence is clear.

This is literally him

[pjsk-headcanons]

(not answeep) This is on my prsk blog, but perfect pitch emu but not in like smart smart “oh thats a Gm” but in a stands awkwardly “somethings not right and I’m going to explode” way like somebody transposed the song without telling her, and so she’s just freezes up like Mafuyu just entered the room

Nene: Emu? What’s wrong? Emu, looking like she got a bucket of ice water dumped onto her: something isn’t right — 🎧 anon (this is also me projecting but i find it funny when its not me)

.

[wolfythewitch]

is there a question or comment that you often get that genuinely upsets you? or genuinely annoys you to your core?

Uhhh I wouldn't say genuinely upset, but probably annoys me yeah haha.

Comments comparing designs, like Odysseus and Jesus, etc, those get old very quickly.

Questions insistently asking if I'm a boy or girl, while amusing, also get old very quickly.

Any questions like the previous anon where it's like "why do you like this piece of media so much" well! It's a long story isn't it. Do you want a history because I Can traumadump. This one is a special case though, it mostly takes context

And any comment telling me to draw something (depends on tone) just makes me not want to draw it HAHA. I don't mind if people ask nicely, but the ones that are just a straight up demand? Rude. Ignored.

Also what Does upset me, now that I think about it, though it doesn't really happen here, mostly on TikTok and YouTube, is when people say I'm race swapping characters?? Or changing their race? I guess? It's just weird.

[decaydanceredacted]

That video of pre-h Patrick tied up in the van has been a jumping off point for so many imagines of mine.

Like we all know he was such a little brat. Maybe sometimes when he is just being way too annoying Joe and Pete hold him down and gag him (with what is up too u, but we know they had dirty boxers laying around a lot) and tie his hands behind his back with spare cables so he can’t undo it. He wiggles around and tries to bitch at them for a while but gives up after he can’t get out and just sits and pouts. They enjoy the silence so they leave him like that, Andy focused on the dark road with Metallic blasting and maybe Joe has nodded off with Patrick starting too. Pete smirks and climbs over to when they’ve shoved Patrick back and licks up his neck. Patrick squeaks and glares at him until Pete starts to undo Patricks too tight girl jeans and he starts to yelp and thrash about. Pete pulls of his dick and starts gently stroking it making Patrick’s yells turn into short breaths. He starts softly moaning through the gag and Pete smirks harder. “This is all you wanted huh, some attention? That why you were being such a brat? Maybe I should do this to get you to shut up more often huh.” Patrick is breathing hard through his nose, light headed by the lack of oxygen. “I think you just need a cock in you. I’ll give you your fix when we get to the hotel okay baby. Such a good boy for me, such a good cock slut.” And Patrick cums into Pete’s hand with a high whine with Pete giggling, “You sound like a girl when you cum ‘trick.”

Patrick goes back to glaring when he comes down but Pete just gives him a light kiss over the gag and scoots back over. Patrick blushes at the kiss but then turns red when he realizes that Pete left his now cum covered cock out. He gestures towards Pete too please put it back in his pants but Pete just raises his eyebrows,

“You didn’t think you weren’t gonna get punished for being a brat the whole day? Andy and Joe should get a chance to use you for an apology too baby.”

and puts in his headphones.

Sorry if this was a rant

Can i maybe be 🦷 tooth if u don’t have one yet?

.

[autothiest]

I'm honestly starting to hate looking at Jimmy rp blogs

[screampied]

every time you post / answer smth ab toji, his giant voluptuous tiddies pop up on my tl and jumpscare me but atp i’m not complaining 🫂🫂 i don’t mind it AT ALL

LMAO im sorry 🙂‍↕️ they’re just so big like…this entire episode was nuts

[misshoneyimhome]

Yes John Tavares also that totally fine just wondering for the future

We can def do more on him in the future bb 😊 I actually think I’ve got a few ideas, but feel free to remind me if I forget to write about him 🙏🏼

[finiffy]

I just wacked my head on the ceiling, idk how because im 5 foot lol, also my name is James.

- J.T

Rip

[killakalx]

saw a tiktok and cannot stop thinking about Jason or Roy with hand tattoos choking me out and fucking me dumb 😪

-⭐️

you don’t even realize you have a thing for it until you sneak a peak at jay’s favorite folder in his phone 🙁 it’s him fucking you in missionary, tatted hand around your throat, and he can’t help smiling to himself when you ask to take more. then there’s one of his hand on your tummy to feel himself all up in your guts. then there’s another one of him forcing your arch deeper while he fucks uou from the back. thennn there’s a whole video of him fucking your face into the mattress with his hand covering your whole damn face. little does he know he’s more obsessed thank you are

roy’s camera roll is full of his hands holding any part of you, and his favorite’s probably the video of him finger fucking you, just cuz he’s obsessed with how your cum looks leaking around his fingers. better yet?? it might be the video of you just sucking his fingers, moaning “fucking freak, so perfect for me” right before it cuts

[jtl07]

Word prompt: honeymoon 💍✈️🏖️

last prompt for this week's shenanigans! thanks everyone for playing <3

the honeymoon, like the wedding, is everything Beatrice could have ever dreamed it could be - beautiful and joyous and full of love in all forms. it's adventure and laughter and rest; it's learning and re-learning - each other, the world, together; it's everything she thought she'd never have.

so when Beatrice grows anxious in the middle of a tour, Ava isn't surprised - she excuses them quickly, leads Beatrice down side street after side street, to somewhere quiet. somewhere just them.

Beatrice sits, shaking against a stone wall, something bewildered, something frightened crawling up her chest, threatening to take her breath, her sight, her mind.

but Ava doesn't let it.

she kneels in front of Beatrice so she's the first thing she sees, places one hand along Beatrice's cheek, the other firmly on Beatrice's chest. speaks, quiet and sure: "breathe, Bea, breathe with me."

she does, they do - together, deeply, until Beatrice's eyes start to clear. then they start to fill with tears. "I don't know why this is happening - I'm happy, really, I am -"

"I know you are, Bea." Ava keeps her hands where they are. "it's going to be okay."

"really?"

it comes out soft, uncertain; young. and Ava knows where this is coming from, has been waiting for it to show up, this part of Beatrice that learned to fear her joy, that learned that happiness never lasts.

"yeah, Bea." gives her a quick grin. "have I given you reason to doubt?"

the question makes Beatrice pause; makes her remember. she touches the ring on Ava's finger, traces the smile on Ava's lips - the same mouth that had promised, had vowed a life of love and joy, unburdened and unbound, together.

Beatrice shakes her head, tips forward to lean their foreheads together. "i believe you," she says, three words in a tone Ava knows.

Ava kisses her, soft and sure. "i love you too."

[deoidesign]

I'm sorry if what I say is wrong in any way, I don't mean to offend you, it's just something I'm not completely sure about. Does Adam use he/they or they/them pronouns? I think I saw a post of yours where you said that Adam uses he/they, but it was a while ago and now I'm not completely sure (and I don't want to use the wrong pronouns)

I know you don't mean anything by it, but I am sad that so many of the asks I get start with people saying "I'm sorry, I don't want to offend you" or some variation thereof, followed by completely normal questions. I think I may have been responding too harshly to too many things and given the impression that I'll jump at people for being wrong...

But asking clarifying questions is always okay. I mean, it's also okay to be wrong and even offensive. What matters is if you learn from it when someone points out that it was wrong or offensive. I won't stop telling people they're saying something hurtful if they are, but I don't want that to lead people to be scared of me or something.

Correcting people is always just about correcting them, not hurting them. It's okay to need to be corrected, were all learning new things every day.

Anyways Adam uses he/they, you remembered correctly

[comphy-and-cozy]

Did I spend this morning rereading A Dream Come True again?

Yep. Zero regrets.

I wouldn’t object to peek ins on them if the urge ever hit to write more on this just saying 👀🫶🏻

this is very sweet and I am so very glad that you enjoyed it! because, well...

mastermind - jt compher

Pairing: JT Compher x Reader (f) - A Dream Come True universe

Word Count: ~1.8K

Author’s Note: I’m sorry Ghost lol

Warnings: references to sex, implied smut, language, the usual banter; otherwise, just some ~relationship development~ and an update on my fav duo ♥️🐙

link to series masterlist

January 2024

The email lies buried beneath the myriad of holiday marketing newsletters you ignored and let build up in your inbox. Sales that have long since passed, codes like ‘HOLIDAY20’ and ‘HAPPYNYE’ expired from stores you shopped at once and never unsubscribed from the marketing. 

It’s a Wednesday evening, and you’re sitting on the couch doing your best to mass delete the influx of unread emails from the past three months after receiving the notification that your storage is running low. A knit blanket covers your legs, and the scent of tobacco and teakwood drifts to you from the candle on your coffee table.

“What’re you giggling about over here?”

JT’s low timbre echoes behind you, the sound followed by the soft padding of his feet as he approaches the couch with a bowl of popcorn. His favorite nighttime snack, you’ve grown to learn over the past three months, so you started stocking your pantry with a box. 

You aren’t sure exactly when things became so domestic and natural with him, only blissfully aware of the steady thump of your heart in your chest when his texts come through or the warmth that fills you whenever he kisses you. You’ve managed to get comfortable with his presence, craving it the same way you crave a sweet snack before bed, but you’re still adjusting to the idea that this is real. That he’s still here, returning to your bed, dutifully—eagerly—after every road trip. 

Every time, he’ll sigh, find solace in the warmth of your arms, press his lips against your skin. He’ll fuck you, God, he’ll fuck you; somehow never failing to reveal a new place inside of you that blooms pleasure. Your body has never sang the way it does for JT, expertly coaxing melodies out of you that you didn’t know you knew. 

But sometimes, he just lays, content to feel your warmth against his, head resting heavy on your chest until his breathing becomes steady and sleep takes him. His expression softens, hair falling out of its styled coif, wrinkles settling into the lines of his t-shirt—if he hasn’t already removed it. In those moments, you defy the heaviness of your eyelids to simply gaze at him, memorizing the shape of him in your bed, curled up against you underneath the blankets that will forever be embedded with his scent. 

You can’t decide which you like more.

“I just got an email inviting me to the Toast of Hockeytown event in February,” you reply, accepting the weight of him on the cushion beside you before you steal a kernel from his bowl—your bowl. “‘Fans can look forward to enjoying live entertainment, culinary delights, drinks, and desserts while mingling with the entire Red Wings team, coaches, select alumni, and other local celebrities.’”

JT hums. “Sounds like an event you can’t miss. A chance to meet them?”

“I better make sure I wear my nicest dress. One that really shows off the goods, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” he agrees, eyes flicking to your chest—though it’s covered by a t-shirt, you can feel the heat from his gaze. “Think maybe you’ll get to fuck one of them?”

Laughter bubbles out of your mouth and you shove his arm at his crass joke. “It would be a good opportunity to try and snag someone’s number.”

“Oooh, maybe Larkin? He’s dreamy.”

“Nah, he’s too popular,” you shake your head. “Can’t aim so high as the captain. Gotta go for lower-hanging fruit. Maybe one of the new guys. Ghosty, you think?”

There’s the briefest flash in JT’s eyes that you would’ve missed had you not been watching for it. You catch it, though, smug with yourself that you’ve one-upped him at his own game. 

“Heard his dick is small.” He feigns indifference, but you see the glint in his eyes. Your favorite eyes. 

“You really want me thinking about Ghost’s dick?” 

JT shrugs. “I’m the one sitting on your couch eating your popcorn. And I’m gonna be the one in your bed later.”

Check mate. The nonchalance paired with his confidence makes you weak—he’s right, and he knows it. You could have every one of them fawning over you, and you’d still pick him, every time. Once the joke falls and the silence settles, the sound of the Brooklyn 99 intro plays softly on the television in front of you.

As your mouse hovers over the ‘delete’ button, you’re reminded of the similar event you attended over two years ago—the one that led you to the man sitting beside you. You reminisce on how you spent days deciding on what to wear, even going so far as to get your hair blown out beforehand. Looking back, you’re a bit embarrassed at the effort, but as you feel the warmth of JT’s leg pressed against yours, you think to yourself it was worth it.

“I came to Denver specifically to meet you,” you blurt out, then freeze when you realize what you’ve just admitted to. Your heart thuds in your chest, the sound almost deafening in your ears as he pauses, three kernels of popcorn in his fingers halfway to his mouth.

Testing a glance at him, you’re surprised to see him pop each puff between his lips, one by one, taking his time chewing. Then, “I know.”

“You know?”

“You kn—the entire time?”

“The entire time.”

A sigh accompanied by a tidal wave of relief washes over you. If he knew, and was still here, it couldn’t have bothered him that much. “Do I want to know how?”

“Jus’ know,” he says with another shrug. Then your favorite glimmer shines in the warm chocolate of his eyes, the kind when he’s really feeling the banter. You love him like this. “You’re a bit of a whore when you’re desperate.”

“Joseph!”

An auburn eyebrow raises and he smirks. “You really gonna argue with me on that?”

Your silence is an answer enough, accompanied by flits of how he’s had you begging him on more than one occasion; you resist the urge to smack him at the smug ‘I told you so’ expression on his stupid, handsome face. “You’re not… creeped out?”

“Told you already,” he says around another mouthful of popcorn. “M’flattered. I think it’s cute.”

Heat simmers in your cheeks as you tell yourself you have no reason not to believe him; he’s still there, still eating popcorn out of the faded, red bowl you got from Target when you moved into your dorm at U of M. 

It’s another few moments before he says something that catches you off guard. 

“I came for you.” 

There’s an air of hesitation about him, like maybe he’s been mulling it over as he finishes the last few bites of popcorn before offering you the remaining kernels in the bottom of the bowl. A peace offering, maybe, like he wants to even the playing field now that you’ve confessed something so private. Funny how this isn’t the first time this has happened to you with regards to him.

“What?”

“That night. At Tin Roof.” The second time we met.

“I know you did. You were inside me.”

JT smiles at your snark, a spark glinting in his eye as if he’s replaying the memory in his head. “No, I mean… I suggested that bar to the guys because I knew you were there.”

“What are you talking about?”

He clears his throat. “After we met—the first time—I spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to find you. I kept waiting to get a tagged photo from you, but never did, so… I started combing through my followers.”

Your eyebrows raise, heart swelling at the idea of making such an impact on him that he’d go through such an effort to find you. 

“It took me awhile, but I finally found you,” he continues. “Imagine my disappointment when you were private.”

You hum, waiting with baited breath to hear the rest of his story. The memory of posting the photo of you and him comes to mind, his hand placement just visible on your side that gives you butterflies to this day, despite him having touched you far more intimately since then.

“I’d check back once in awhile whenever you crossed my mind. Still, private. I even made a habit of checking my DM’s in case you decided to message me after we won the Cup.”

“Hard to get,” you tease with a smile. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

His eyes glint again, acknowledging your quip—because you sure fucking have kept him on his toes. “And then I got a call from Steve Yzerman.”

The breath in your lungs stands still.

“We talked—and I loved what he had to say, don’t get me wrong; Detroit really had been on my radar for awhile—but after I hung up the phone, I went to check your page. Figured it couldn’t hurt. And you weren’t private anymore. And, by all accounts, you appeared to be single.”

You’re doing your best to keep your jaw from resting on the floor, absorbing his candid confession with no shortage of disbelief. Part of you wonders if this is a long, elaborate play to tease you for how you lusted after him.

“Saw the picture of us,” he adds. “And the caption, too.”

A grin breaks out onto your face at his reference. It had been funny at the time, so far-fetched, unthinkable that the contrast between then and now hits you in the chest. Call me JT xoxo, it had said.

“Thought you said I wasn’t the reason you signed.”

“You were… encouraging,” he says with a smirk. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart down to your body. You don’t expect he meant for you to miss it.

As tempted as you are to take that concupiscent gaze and use it to quell the heat that’s simmering between your legs, you can’t resist probing just a little more to see what else you can glean out of him. “So… the bar?” 

“Oh, right,” he blinks, like he forgot he was telling a story; you can practically see the dirty images conjured in his eyes as they float away. “Pretty straightforward, really—before we went out that night, I checked your story, on a whim. You tagged the bar.”

“Joseph Taylor Compher, were you stalking me?”

For the first time, a tinge colors the pretty ivory of his cheeks and his expression turns… bashful? “Does it count as stalking if it’s on your public page?”

“I’m sure the police might have something different to say,” you shoot back with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s only if I harassed you,” JT says. “And I’m pretty confident I did quite the opposite of that.”

He nudges your knee playfully, and you roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you blew my mind, whatever, whatever.”

“You blew mine too, baby,” he adds, the tinge of huskiness in his voice undeniable. “But you knew that.”

And later, after he’s thoroughly appreciated your travel efforts to Denver, when your cheek is pressed against the warm skin on his chest, you whisper, “I can’t believe you were playing 4D chess this entire time.”

“What can I say? I’m a mastermind.”