#always accepting prompts

[is-this-even-relatable]

Misfortune Teller

tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.

Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.

Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.

Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."

After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.

Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.

---

He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.

Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."

"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."

Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.

Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.

And he didn't really want to go back home either.

But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.

Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.

After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.

Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.

"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."

And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"

Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."

---

Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.

He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.

Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.

That must be what he was sent here for.

But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.

Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.

He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?

Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!

Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...

A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.

---

Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...

Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.

Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.

---

And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.

[spookyboywhump]

It feels like every month I see more posts in the whump community trying to normalize using ChatGPT and I’m beating this shit back with a broom

[moonchild-in-blue]

Lukewarm take: I hate breakfast in bed. No, not even coffee. No. Breakfast on the couch though? Big yes.

[snkyou]

Drabble Prompt: Post-canon Levi, struggling with chronic pain and mourning his dead loved ones, being visited by his still alive loved ones

Anon, you knew how to talk pretty to me <3

hihi requests are still open btw

I feel like I gotta put a disclaimer or something lmao. So, the length of my drabble requests is usually something between 100-400 words. This request is just an incredibly unexpected exception. it just happened to fit into this idea I already had been thinking of, which was how the remaining 104th would ask Levi to be part of important events in their lives because well, they like the dude lmao, so expect that sort of one-shot soon. Additionally, since I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be a drabble, I might have glossed over the chronic pain and mourning bits so I'm sorry about that ;;

that being said, 2.4k words of Levi and Gabi be upon ye <3

Now on Ao3!

The angry hissing of the kettle makes him flinch. It brings a loud ringing to his right ear. Instinctively, he places his right hand over it, and gives his ear a couple of gentle taps; it's more of a grounding gesture, a distraction from the buzzing. He usually keeps watch over the kettle, so that he can lower the heat just right before it gets a chance to scream at him. 

He realises then that he must have spaced out while waiting. It’s alright, he thinks. It’s been like that a lot, recently. He’s been like that. Lost in thought-- lost in time, if he allowed himself to be precise. The last days, weeks even, as the temperatures started to drop, blended into each other. There’s a little calendar on his bedside table, it had been a birthday gift from Armin – or had that been Mikasa’s? He isn’t sure, he had received an absurd number of presents from the kids last year, it had been hard to keep track of who gave him what and now the fact escaped him. Turning the pages of the little calendar, with its delicate botanical illustrations on each day, quickly became part of his morning routine, and so he was sure that time was passing at all. The stillness of the routine, he guesses, made him like this.

His vision blurs momentarily while he scoops the tea leaves into the teapot. He squints, trying to will his good eye to focus, but all he gets in return is a throb in his right eye. After putting the tea canister away, he presses the inner sides of his wrists to both eyes, placing just enough pressure to relieve the discomfort. When he opens his eyes again, he is pleased to find he can read the small print on the canister an arm’s length away. 

There’s a loud slam coming from the front of the house, followed by footsteps coming further into the house.

He quickly recognizes the heavy stomping as Gabi’s gait. She’s always been so loud.

Gabi crosses the arch into the small kitchen and dining area. 

“Don’t slam my doors,” he says as a greeting, slowly turning his head to his left side, trying to catch a glimpse of her in his periphery.

“Aye, aye,” the kid waves her hand, shoots him a teasing grin, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Levi hums in response but doesn’t say anything else. He busies himself with placing everything they need for their morning tea and coffee on a metal tray on the counter, which Gabi takes from him as soon as it’s ready and sets it on the table.

He grabs his cane from where he had hooked it on one of the kitchen drawers. He has been leaning against the counter, his right leg supporting most of his weight all this time. He braces himself for the sharp pain that will surely surge from his bad knee, through his left hip and up his spine. Cold mornings like this one and being still in one place for long will do that to him. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.

It takes 4 steps to get from the stove to his chair, which Gabi has already pulled out for him. It sits at an angle that allows him to easily slide down on it and rest his right elbow on top of the table, leaning back and against his good side.

“I have something that will cheer you up,” she holds a couple of envelopes in her hand and waves them at him, “You’ve got mail!”

He nods at her in acknowledgement but does not take his attention away from preparing his first batch of tea of the day. There’s a ritual to it, it almost feels like, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Not when the ringing in his ear is still there, the building pressure in the upper back part of his eyeballs, and the cold air seeping into his bones through his thick jumper. Oh, how he needs a good cup of tea right now.

While Levi waits for it to steep, he grabs the papers that she had shoved in his face, squints his eyes at the first envelope and finds that he is unable to make out much of the handwriting. He brings it closer to his face, squints harder, steals a quick glance across the table and hopes Gabi isn’t paying him any mind, too preoccupied with choosing from the bag of pastries she brought with her. It is with an impassive expression that he hands the stack of envelopes back. 

“Read it for me.” A beat and then he adds, a little reluctant: “Please.”

He knows Gabi prefers coffee in the mornings, and black tea in the evenings, so he makes sure to have a fresh brew of the former whenever he knows she’s coming over; so, with shaky hands, Levi gets to prepare her cup of coffee. While he enjoys the aroma of it, he remains faithful to tea; at first, he thought he didn’t like it because he had butchered his first attempts at brewing it. But even after Onyankopon had taught him how to do it properly and he had enjoyed his cup, it didn’t bring the same comfort as tea. It just never hit the spot.

She shoots him a mischievous grin, “Oh, you sure? What if I read something personal, hm?” 

Levi just shakes his head, scoffing at the idea of Gabi finding his junk mail fascinating.

“Is this how I find out you have a secret lover you’re exchanging raunchy love letters with?” Gabi teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He lets out a tired sigh and rolls his eyes, “just wanna be done with it, ” he stirs the milk into Gabi’s coffee, which now has turned into a cup of milk with coffee. “We have a lot to prepare for tonight.”

She clicks her tongue at him, but still rips the first envelope open, “Mr. Levi, your reading won’t improve if you keep doing that,” she jokingly scolds him.

Although Levi mentally recognises handing her and Falco stuff he couldn’t be bothered reading before, that’s not the case this time. He’ll let her think that for now, though, because he doesn’t want to mention the pressure building in the back of his bad eye, it’s not important and she, a kid, doesn’t need to know his newly found ailment of the week. He can see just fine around him right now. He can see Gabi’s big eyes and playful smile at the other side of the table, and that’s good enough; smaller details, he doesn’t feel he can do them, not without making himself go dizzy with a migraine.

Levi slides the cup of coffee to her and is pleased with himself when she approves of the colour of her drink.

“It’s from Armin,” she announces as she scans the letter. 

From this angle, the soft morning light illuminating her face and thanks to his faulty vision, Gabi’s image stirs his memory. His heart faintly constricts as he is reminded of the many times Hange read their research reports to him during breakfast in the mess hall before presenting them to Erwin. Levi always wondered how they could read so fast, sometimes he even doubted they were actually reading at all, their words barely being able to catch up with her eyes; he never asked about it, maybe reading came easy to them as numbers did to him.

A high-pitched squeal from Gabi startles him, bringing him back to the here and now.

“Oh… ohh, Mr. Levi,” she starts, her smile widening by the second “This is good news!”

Gabi makes a show of clearing her throat and then starts reading “Dear Captain, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health.” 

Levi can’t help but let a sardonic huff at the irony of the greetings but doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. He has written only a handful of personal letters throughout his life, and by now he knows it’s just something you’re supposed to say because jumping straight to the point isn’t acceptable, or so that’s what he had been told. 

Gabi continues reading Armin’s words to him. For the most part, it’s a standard letter coming from him: he asks Levi how he’s dealing with the changing of the seasons, how Gabi and Falco are faring, if business at the tea shop has been good, if there’s anything Levi needs that he can’t get in town so that Armin or the others can get it for him. He tells him a little about the country he’s writing from, he even includes a photograph. Then, after the expected pleasantries, Gabi can barely hold her excitement and starts reading faster, trying so hard not to trip over her words.

“If I’m being sincere, we would prefer to ask you in person,” Gabi stops for a second to look up at him from the paper, gauging for a reaction and finding nothing, she continues. 

Armin apologises for not being able to visit him before the holidays, Annie included, and so it is implied that he won’t be attending tonight’s reunion. 

Sometime during the last five years, the Alliance brats had decided to make showing up at Levi’s doorstep together once a year a sort of custom; the first time it happened was during an early winter, a blizzard had stopped them from leaving Levi’s until the next morning. It had been a really nice evening despite the awful weather, Levi remembers, after everyone pitched in one way or another, they all shared a simple but hearty meal together. It was Connie who jokingly said they should do it every year. The following year, Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco joined them. 

This year would be their fourth, and the first someone wouldn’t make it. That fact sits heavily in Levi’s chest, stealing the spotlight from his throbbing eye.

“...Annie and I have decided to get married. The both of us would like you to officiate our ceremony!” unable to contain her excitement, she tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at Levi. “Huh?! This is good news! What’s with the constipated face?!”

That doesn’t sound right. It figures that Annie and Armin would be the first to marry; in a way, he is happy for them, they clearly care for each other. No, that part is easy to understand. Their union is logical to anyone who knows the couple. What Levi can’t figure out is why they are asking him such a thing.

He clears his throat, assumes it’s been 3 minutes and his tea is ready to be poured and so he distracts himself with that.

When he doesn’t answer Gabi, she picks up where she left off. 

He isn’t… well, he isn’t that close to either of them. He’s sure Annie must have other relatives that could step in his stead. Maybe a brother, a cousin. Even Jean or Reiner would be better options than Levi. He isn’t good with words or people like they are, he couldn’t possibly give them a speech about something foreign to him as it is that kind of love, that’s what people expect, right? His title of Captain is obsolete in this new world, so it can’t be that either. Hell, he has never been to a fucking wedding. 

Just… why him?

As expected, Armin doesn’t really go into the details of their choice but does let Levi know they do not expect a fast answer and that they do not want him to feel pressured to accept it, despite how much it would mean to them if he did. Armin asks if there’s anything in particular that he would like for his birthday, as it is a month away, and closes the letter by saying he looks forward to seeing him and everyone then.

When the letter is closed and put back into its envelope, silence falls around them. For a moment the only sound that can be heard is the clinking of tableware as Levi places the teacup back on its saucer.

It bothers him, that he knows he will be letting Armin down by refusing something that any other well-adapted person would consider an honour. But the thought of embarrassing him and himself, because he gave an awkward, most likely insensitive, speech, mortifies him. No, he can’t put them and their guests through that. He will find a way to make it up to the couple, maybe he can… he doesn’t know yet, but he will come up with something.

As he finishes his first cup, Levi realises that at some point while he was lost in thought, the ringing in his ear has subsided and now it’s back to that muffled, cotton-in-ear sensation he’s used to and he doesn’t feel his eyeball pulsating anymore. Glancing at Gabi, he notices she is trying really hard not to say something, her brow furrowed as she takes a sip of her own drink, followed by a big bite of her pastry. Flakes stick to the corner of her mouth and for once it doesn’t disgust him. Instead, it makes his lips twitch as if going into a smile.

“I can help you... if you want,” she says eventually, sounding uncharacteristically careful and small of her.

Levi quirks an eyebrow “Help? with what?” 

She shrugs, “How to… tell them you don’t want to,” she avoids looking at him for the first time, finding the flakes on her plate more interesting. She shrugs again and tilts her head to the side, a thin line of a smile appearing on her face. “...or prepare for the ceremony.”

Not unlike many times before, Gabi’s words render him speechless, if only for a moment. He spares his tea a glance and he thinks: it’s bold of her to be so upfront about offering her help to him, and had it been any other morning, one where he couldn’t think past the constant ache in his body, he would’ve chewed her head off for simply trying to help him because he himself doesn’t know how to accept that kindness.

This kid is trying her best and he can’t help but feel somewhat proud of that.

“You have shit on your face. Here,” he points to where the flakes would sit on his own face and picks his refilled teacup back up.

Gabi quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting most of the flakes off. Levi gives her a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and tries to ignore the little happy dance she does in her seat.

This time, when the amber liquid touches his lips, it’s remarkably sweeter than before.

[chokepoints]

been having thoughtts about dragons in g/t recently. i dunno why i cant get it out of my brain.

more specifically, a dragon slayer whose goal is to defeat fearsome beasts and keep their kingdom safe.

Somehow, they're cursed to become a dragon. Maybe they piss off a witch or pick up some enchanted item. Either way, they're now the very thing their people fear.

They weep every day, watching the kingdom from afar. They can't get too close anymore, not without being shot at by tiny arrows.

They just wanted to be a hero, someone to be brave for the people who couldn't be. However, now? They've been forced to give up hope on those aspirations

because now they are the one being woken out of their slumber, met with blades and fire. They are hunted. No one recognizes them anymore, not as the person they once were. In their people's eyes, they're a giant, ferocious monster.

[kanene-yaaay]

Finished another part of The Fic! Which means there's only two more parts to go yipeeee :DDD

Also kjhghujikolgbhnj 14k someone save meeee

[the-alice-of-hearts]

Happy birthday!! I hope you had a good one <3 if you're still taking prompts, could I ask for DickTim + mutual pining?

Thank you!!! Today is actually the day (July 4th) and I’m hoping it’s good 🥰

Dick watched Tim the way someone watched a lover. He knew his sleeping habits, or lack there of. He knew what the younger man liked to eat. He knew his order at the local coffee shop and knew that contrary to popular belief it was actually a chai latte with no actual coffee to be seen. He knew the way Tim put his hair up when he was thinking vs when he was working out vs when he was just reading. He knew Tim, but he didn’t know how to tell him how unequivocally in love with him he was.

Tim knew the people he cared about. He knew that Dick was watching him lately. He knew that Cass had something to say about it. He knew that Steph was busy with school and Jason and Bruce were due for another fight. Hell he even knew that Damian was cooling off more and more recently. What he didn’t know what hot to explain to them how he cared for them. Damian it might be easy. Just call him brother in passing and gaslight the younger into thinking that was normal. Steph and Cass knew that he cared about them and made sure he never forgot they cared for him in return. Bruce showed his love in tracking them all and Tim could maybe do the same. Jason was difficult but maybe a book or something meaningful left at his nearby safe house was a good idea. But then he always circled around to Dick. Dick who cared about Tim. Dick who saw them as equals. Dick who was so pretty and kind and perfect, flaws and all. How could Tim ever tell him about his love? About his yearning. About his want?

Eventually Cass would step in. Locking the boys into a room to talk it out until she’s deemed them happy. But for now each man is just hanging onto a thread of normal before everything changes.

[bewitchingbloom]

Really getting tired of the "people weren't critical of [piece of media] until [insert either next subpar installment or creator fuckup causes mainstream opinion reversal]" arguments. I guarantee you every piece of media has had its share of critics, regardless of its popularity, and suggesting that someone's criticisms aren't valid and that they're just doing so because it's popular to do now is...well, it's kinda gross tbh

[aesthetictarlos]

It's a sunny Sunday afternoon here and I'm in a bad mood rn, so I want to try something to cheer me (and maybe you, too!) up. Plus, I have a few bucktommy wips (and I'll post a fic tonight) but I need to learn how to write short fics SO if you want to send me some fluffy prompts... I'll try to write them on here.

✨✨✨

Pls don't make this flop 🥹

P.s. you can comment here or send me an ask if you want to stay anonymous. ❤️

[meowzilla93]

The Seasons of Baxter Alexander Ward

Baxter as a child is Winter. Reserved, sharp, distant, cold. The capability to cut people away as easy as breathing needs a fierce, but cold, heart and mind. The need the cold to make the decisions for others around you. Winter is strong and determined and stubborn and selfish. Winter knows it is hated, and so knows it’s worth, so why would Winter listen to anything else? So, Winter freezes, and Winter stays.

The Summer of 2016, Baxter after the Summer he got a taste of, this man is Winter still, if not colder again.  To have Summer, the one thing you’ve always wanted, and still shun it, requires the reserved nature of Winter. And so, Winter still doesn’t thaw.

Spring blooms for Baxter once he takes true control of his life. A life sheltered by darkness and expectation, he learns to sprout new roots and take in the sun that has tried to shine his way for many years. It took courage to recognize the steps he needed to take, and so he reaches for his independence, cuts away the rotting roots and takes a step into the sun. Spring thaws the Winter and gives way to a new life. Spring brings the blooms and breathe of fresh air to allow for the sharpness to dull, the cold to thaw, and the distance to start being shorter.

But Summer can never truly come to one still so afraid. So, Summer comes, and goes, circling him like the earth circles the sun, but never touches him. Summer is something he can try to fake, wear as a mask, but never truly live. Someone who was Winter for so long, how could he fool himself to think Summer would be a life he could have.  So, he stays content, the thawed Winter that burst into Spring, but cannot take the next step towards the warmth of Summer, no matter how much he wants to.

Summer… His Summer is you. Summer appears in front of him, blinding and warming and what he has wanted all this time. Though he tried to run, for fear of what Summer could bring, Summer always comes. When he finally gave it a chance and let Summer into his life, his journey continues into the happiness and freedom he as always wanted. For that is what Summer is; Freedom, happiness and Love. His Summer is the love of his life, and Summer could be a Spring, Autumn, Summer or a Winter, but no matter which one, you shine like Summer to him.

So, this man of the forest, who lived through each season and learnt his way through each of them, settles into Autumn. Calmness, content, and happy. The cozy warmth that holds to you and basks in the radiance that Summer brought. His journey came to an end, he experienced the cycle of the seasons, each guiding him and forming him into the person he is now. And he is finally, truly happy. Autumn, the patina of golds, reds and yellows, that bring warmth and a smile to his face. He only got here because of the Summer that entered his life. He happily lives his life in Autumn, in the comfort of that love.

[you-are-constance]

giving up on writing forever i had a successful day yesterday but not a single word today despite staring at the screen for hours. this sucks.

[emmyrosee]

hii, are your requests open?

THEY AREEEEEE!!! Im just incredibly slow at answering them bc the creative juices have nawwwwwwwt been hitting lol

[erisenyo]

I just came across your jetko fic on ao3 (Like the Fire in Your Heart) and wow it’s so good

Anon thank you so much!! I really enjoy writing Jetko, especially that messy post-canon, who-are-we-know type of Jetko. So happy you had fun with it!

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

are the fic prompts for any fandom?

Any Holbrook related fandom! And it doesn’t have to necessarily include his character(s) if it’s a ship prompt.

The only prompts I won’t take are reader/character prompts, they aren’t really my speed & other authors here do them a lot better than I could anyway!

[sunwarmed-ash]

Yippee!! I was thinking more so in a “bad” way, where Gavin’s getting punished, but Nines takes it too far…. physically and mentally🫣Something smutty and angsty hehehe

Thank you for accepting my prompt! I can’t wait🫶

OHHHHHHHHHOHOHOHO

I GOTTTTT UUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is gonna be great :D :D I got your other request too! ill post the ficlet on that one :D

[anaceshornyblog]

Making them lick someone's boots with je maybe? Or jongerry,,

Still Accepting Prompts! (Please be as vague or specific as you would like)

JonElias

Jon couldn’t hold back a small whimper as Elias used his hair as a handhold shoving his face down. It wasn’t a particularly tight grip, but Elias was firm and Jon couldn’t even think of disobeying. Honestly he couldn’t think much at all having just spent the past few minutes rubbing off against the shoe Elias was shaving him toward. His tongue darted out, barely a kitten lick on the soft leather, and while Jon couldn’t see Elias from this angle he could hear his disappointed sigh.

“Come now Jon, you dirtied them you should take responsibility and clean them up,” Jon could almost see the smirk on his face as he pressed his shoe against Jon’s face spreading Jon’s slick that covered the tip across his lips. Jon opened his mouth his tongue hanging out but he couldn’t get his body to cooperate. Elias sighed as his grip shifted, forcing Jon’s tongue to slide across the expensive leather.

“I suppose I’ll just have to show you more directly,” Jon whimpered, but kept his mouth open, it was always easier when Elias was in control.

JonGerry

“If you want to suck my cock you’ll have to show me how good you are with your mouth first.” Jon wasn’t certain if you could die from embarrassment but Gerry was certainly trying to do Jon in. When Gerry had told him to clean his boots, Jon had reached out only to have his hand slapped away and the tip of one shoved against his cheek.

“You can’t be serious?” Jon eyed the leather, yes they were clean, chosen specifically for this, but still.

“Dead serious,” Jon couldn’t help making a face which had Gerry breaking character for a second, before schooling his expression again. “Come on sweetheart the faster you clean them the faster you can get what you actually want in your greedy mouth.”

Jon but his lip, as though considering giving a put upon sigh. Gerry flicked the remote he held in his hand and Jon gasped clenching down against the plug inside him as it sped up slightly.

“Don’t be a brat,” Gerry said as though he didn’t love Jon giving him a chance to punish him. Jon growled but leaned his head down sliding his tongue across his boot, letting out a small moan. Jon wondered if this actually looked hot, or just ridiculous, glancing up through his eyelashes as he essentially fellated a boot.

If Jon had worried that it would kill the mood, Gerry’s intense expression showed him otherwise. His pupils were blown wide, and if his constant shifting was anything to go by he was clearly having trouble resisting stopping the whole thing to get Jon’s mouth on him instead.

Jon kept up his ministrations, winding Gerry up, knowing he’d pay for it later.