When My Favorite Writers Respond To My Asks/reqs

have this thing I wrote in a flash of pure, unadulterated love for Jason that I felt while doing my hair routine after my shower. never needed a fictional guy more in all my life and honestly this may be my personal favorite thing I’ve ever written.

Thinking about domesticity with Jason Todd. Building a home with him, a life. How ever so gradually mine and yours becomes ours.

You’re brushing your teeth one morning and decide to try out his toothpaste, the one he always buys from the bodega down the block owned by the little abuelita that loves him to death. It’s fresh and it’s minty and you swear it leaves your teeth whiter than the brand name stuff you buy, so you let your tube get used up and never buy toothpaste again. Jason, without question, simply starts buying it twice as often as usual.

You’re fresh from the shower together after a night off for both of you. You’re warm and you’re happy and you’re both so in love it almost hurts. You watch enraptured as he towel dries his hair, roughly scrunching the water from his inky curls. You don’t like how he lacks gentleness with himself, so you take the towel from him and gesture for him to lean down. Ever obedient to you, Jason complies and smiles softly as you dry his hair for him. You think suddenly that while his curls are always soft to the touch, they could do with being a bit more defined. They tend to get really frizzy and poofy by the end of the day. So you grab your curl cream and gel and just absentmindedly do your own routine on him. He raises his eyebrow in question only to quickly relent when he realizes it means you’re playing with his hair for longer. Your hunch is right; once his hair dries, his curls are so pretty you think you could get lost in the waves of them. Jason’s just happy cause now his hair smells like you.

The only clothes Jason has that are his now is his Red Hood gear. The rest of his closet has quickly become co-owned by you. His brain never fails to short circuit when you walk out in his hoodies, or his sweatpants, or his t-shirts, or his boxers. There’s not one piece of his civilian clothing that hasn’t been on both of your bodies at this point. Sometimes seeing you in his clothes has Jason blushing and his heart pounding with how much he loves you, how grateful he is to have this life with you. Other times seeing you in his clothes has him calculating the fastest way he can get them all off of you. You’re just disappointed that it can’t go both ways. But, alas, the struggles of having a massive boyfriend are that he’ll never be able to fit in your clothes. Whatever; it still does something for you when he finally wears the old Gotham Knights shirt that you’d stolen for months.

It’s also kind of funny sometimes. You two own a set of old, dark gray towels affectionately labeled “The Blood Towels”. The Blood Towels are only brought out after a really rough patrol or post-showering when you’re on your period. They came about after you’d nearly slipped while soaking wet from how quickly you’d tried to dry off to avoid bleeding on his good, fluffy towels. Jason just looked at you like you were a little ditzy, a flat “Do ya know how many times I’ve bled on these towels?” coming from his mouth. “I don’t care! I still don’t wanna ruin them!” you’d insisted. And thus, The Blood Towels were born.

Your bookshelf is never going to stop growing. You’ve actually had to go to IKEA more than once to get a larger one with how often you and Jay visit the old bookstore two blocks away from your apartment. Neither of you can resist a pretty cover, or a new annotated edition, or, heaven forbid, those rare, expensive first edition copies. At this point you’re not really sure which of the five copies of Pride and Prejudice first belonged to who, but really what does it matter when you’re both reading them anyways? And it’s always funny when you have to drag home a bigger bookshelf. You can never hold your laughter when Jason inevitably shouts “What the fuck! This wouldn’t be so goddamn hard if they actually gave you coherent instructions!” It’s also always nice to drag the old bookshelves to the apartment of the single mom downstairs whose kid loves reading. You both know she can barely afford the second hand books she gets him, so the shelves are happily given. You’re actually thinking of asking Jay if he’s willing to part with one of your first edition copies of Frankenstein for Christmas; the kid would freak.

All of this comes to a head with a cat. A big, fat, black cat that crawls up on your fire escape one night. You’d both been a little distracted–okay, a lot distracted by the feeling of being lost in each other's touch. You’d been making out for over an hour, just relishing in the intimacy of being together. It was definitely going to go somewhere until you heard the caterwauling of an animal outside your window. “The fuck is that?” Jason had asked as he pulled away from kissing bruises into your neck. “Sounds like a cat.” You’d begged, actually begged, Jason to let him stay. The next morning you came home with a grocery bag full of cat toys and bowls while Jason hauled a value-sized 40 pound bag of cat food on his shoulder. Atticus sits with you both while you watch TV now. Atticus still sometimes ruins the mood when he sees Jason sink his teeth into you and immediately swats his dad on the cheek. But Atticus is also undeniably your boy. And whatever, maybe you do start thinking about what Jason would look like with an actual baby in his arms when he’s cradling Atty as he shuffles around your home. But there’s time for that yet. You both know that. You know that beyond anything else, you’ll always have this life, this home together. It’s the best gift either of you have ever been given.

this is so cute 😭😔

"You remembered." You state to Simon with wide eyes. Just a moment ago he came theough the door to your flat with a present bag and a cake.

The longer you looked at him the more tears that filled your eyes. It was your birthday, and everyone in your life had forgotten. But not Simon. He would mever forget something like this.

You never thought Simon of all people would be the one too remember. But little do you know he has had a countdown until your birthday on his for since you last birthday.

"Of course i did," He starts "I would never forget something so special." He finishes adoration in his eyes.

You practically race up to him and throw your arms around his waist, the tears dont stop as you sob into his chest. He moves both of you to a spot he can set the bags down and wraps both of his arms around you squeezing tight.

"I'm here, I'll always be here."

maybe i was born to read fanfic and obsess over fictional men idk

Man that protected his kingdom against the usurper at the age of 16, marched to Kings Landing for the Hour of Wolf and stopped Targaryen civil war at 23, and created a group of perpetually ovulating Creganwives with only 3 minutes of screen time.

Questioned Morals (II)

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Summary: Ned is in love

Word count: 1.2k

Questioned Morals (I)

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The next day in the morning, Ned wakes up drenched in sweat, his breathing heavy and skin sticky he throws the furs off his body and gets out of the bed and walks towards the window in haste, he opens to let the air cool his flushed skin, he had dream but not just any dream, it was a dream about you a lewd and obscene dream, he shakes his head trying not to think about it, he closes his eyes trying to clear his mind, but the image of you under him skin soft and sweaty flashes in front of him in an attempt to get rid of such thoughts he walks to the table in his room and pours himself a generous serving of wine. The wine was chill and tart soothing his throat as he drank, taking big gulps as if it would wash the dream away, setting down the goblet he concludes that this is all just silly infatuation and that he must be lonely.

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As the day goes on Ned as routine is busy, walking down the hallway lost in his head he does not notice footsteps coming towards him, walking at an unnecessarily fast pace he pauses when he feels someone bump into his shoulder, looking down he notices the fiery red hair that looked so much like Catelyns.

“Sansa”?

“oh? I was just coming to meet you father, I wanted to thank you”-

Ned is half hearing whatever it is that Sansa is saying until your name is uttered, his attention is back on her-

“they are such a sweet person they would make a splendid lady-in-waiting”

You and her lady-in-waiting? When did he approve of that? He revisits the conversation he had with your father and realises when he was spacing out he had agreed to making you a lady-in-waiting for Sansa, his stomach drops and he realises what a grave mistake he has made- what would he do now? you would be around winterfell all the time now.

“Sansa dear, I have to leave now.” It came out more rushed than Ned had wished but he hadn't in him.

He was pacing through the to go to his room once entering, he pours himself a glass of wine and drinks it down in one gulp, exhaling a heavy sigh he thinks back to yesterday he hadn’t heard your voice yet or he did? he can't really remember either way it must be just as sweet as you look, remembering the issue at hand, he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“How could you be so foolish?” He asked himself, this shouldn’t bother him though, you are nearly half his age, he groans out and decides that he should end the day here.

The next morning as Ned was walking past the training grounds, he saw you and Robb talking, smiling like two silly kids, he smiled at the prospect of you and Robb getting married, you had a sweet character and would make an excellent Queen Of the North.

‘What if you were his Queen Of the North?’ he chastises himself for thinking so, you would never even look at him.

As the week progressed you had noticed Ned had been avoiding you, whenever you were in front of him he would turn the other way and rush away and whenever he was in the same room as you, you would always feel his eyes on you but when you looked towards him he would quickly look away, This rather odd.

So you decided to come in his way more, you would look out for him, seek him out in the crowd of furs in the great hall, you deliberately walk past him a little closer than acceptable so he could smell the perfumed oils you put in your bath ‘sandalwood and amber’ noted Ned, you smelled like what he imagined the sun would smell like. Through the entire week Ned had been going through dilemma, the harder he tried to avoid the closer you came, it was as if some unseeable force was pulling you closer to each other, whenever you got too close to Ned he would pray to the gods to give him strength to put his hands around and pull you in, so one night he decided to visit the godswood and plead the gods to put him out of his misery.

One night, sleep was difficult to come so, you decided to take a walk towards the Godswood, wearing one of your heavier furs you leave for the Godswood.

Entering the forest, you saw someone standing, bringing your fur closer to yourself, clearing your throat to get the unknown person’s attention, the person whipping their head to look back at the noise, their hand on the hilt of their sword ready to attack. As your eyes meet you realise it was no one other than The Eddard Stark himself, all of his tall and broad shouldered frame standing right in front you. Recovering from the shock, you ask.

“Is sleep hard to come by, my lord?”

Ned looked like he had seen a ghost-

“I- yes my lady”

There is a pregnant pause between you two, looking at him trying to think of what to say-

“Are you avoiding me?”

You bite your tongue, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I apologise, my lord ‘tis not my-

“You needn’t apologise, you are correct, I have been avoiding”

Ned interrupts you, opening your mouth to say something but you stop yourself.

“I haven’t been avoiding you out of disdain but rather”- Ned pauses not knowing what to say.

“It’s just that” “I” “Uhm” were the only sounds coming out of his mouth for a few seconds, was Ned Stark stuttering.

“I am in love with you.”

That statement takes you aback, ‘in love with you?’ You had always Ned rather attractive, with all his honour and striking northerner features, your father had made you Sansa’s lady-in-waiting with the hopes of a future marriage with one of the Stark boys, preferably Robb, but you never looked at that Robb like that, he was younger than you and rather cocky. Ned on the other hand, was older and had an air about him, something very attractive that just increased tenfold when mixed with the smell of pine and leather.

“You are all I think about, day and night you have occupied my mind”-

Stepping closer to him you put your hand on his shoulder. “You are in love with me?”

Ned sighs out “Yes my lady, I am irrevocably in love with you, and when I tried avoiding you there was some unseeable force pulling us together and I do not think I can do this anymore”-

To pause him from, you cup his face “You do not need an explanation of why you're in love.

“But” you place your lips on his, they were cold and slightly rough and you could taste the wine he had earlier for supper, Ned pauses not knowing what to do, frozen in shock, a few seconds after the shock wears down, he puts his hands on your waist and pulls you closer, kissing you back. After a few seconds you both pull back to catch you breath, you put your hands on his shoulders and he moves his hands to cup you face, as he looks into your eyes, he decides he will start courting you properly and that morals be damned as he pulls you in for another kiss.

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Fin.

the moments after you got married to gojo were so hectic that you can barely remember anything. a marriage of convenience was usual, especially with your ranks in society, but usually people acted as if they weren’t what they were.

you’re barely able to get a good look at your supposed husband before he quickly makes and exit, your brows furrowing in confusion and leaving everybody else to wonder in hushed whispers.

his parents run after him, sending you a look of apology, but you can’t even think.

it’s only a few minutes later where you’re ushered down a row of halls, expecting to be shown into a ballroom, but instead you found yourself in an empty vast room, starring at your two pieces of luggage as your heart beats rapidly.

you’re not able to say your goodbye to your family, but you doubt they’d even want to hear it, and despite your insistent questions, your maids are just as confused as you are.

“will he be coming here?” you ask as your maids tug the dress off of your body, hours of tedious labor to make you look presentable being scrubbed away.

you’re sitting in a tub of scalding water, your arms and legs still raw from just this morning.

“i don’t know my lady,” one of the maids says, looking at another girl through frenzied eyes, just as lost as you were.

“is there going to be another gathering? if not tonight, then later?” you look around, eyes darting around and heart hammering loudly in your chest.

“i…” the girl, alina, swallows, “i don’t know,” she says, but you can tell she’s trying to be gentle.

even though you felt as if you hadn’t been prepared enough for this hasty marriage, everything you were told was going to happen hasn’t happened. he’s supposed to bed you…whatever that means. you’re supposed to see your husband fully, but you only saw a flash of his face as he laid a stone like kiss to your cheek.

you gnaw on your lips, chest heaving up and down as your eyes wilt with worry.

“did i do something wrong?” you finally ask, sinking deeper into the tub as the bustling noise around you stops for a second.

one of the older ladies who had been washing your arms gives you a soft smile.

“it’s best not to think about the past,” though you can tell she’s trying to soothe you, it only makes it worse, “look on the bright side! you’re a gojo! do you know how many girls would kill to be in your spot?” she says with a chuckle that you can only muster up a shaky smile to.

you didn’t want to be a gojo if your husband didn’t even want you to be one, you thought. nervousness began filling your system.

were you lied to? did he not agree to this marriage?

you don’t say anything for the rest of the night, letting everybody else do what they needed to as you sit at the edge of your bed, watching the door, waiting for it to open.

you twirled your ring back and forth, eyes growing dry from not blinking.

your husband didn’t come that night. nor would he the night after that. later you found out he’s staying in a separate bedroom, on a another floor, in another wing of the estate.

i keep thinking about an arranged marriage with simon. maybe it’s for a mission or something that benefits both of you, and neither of you is making a big deal out of it. once you get what you need, you'll get a divorce, no strings attached. but as soon as simon signs those papers, he’s already thinking about baby names, and the house he’ll build for you both to grow old in. and what do you mean, lovie, you want separate rooms? don’t you see the ring on your finger? turn around so he can be a big spoon. a man’s flirting with you? wait in the car, he just needs a quick word with him. don’t worry about his bloodied knuckles once he gets back. of course, it’s all for professional reasons, but he still calls you his wife, missus, even behind closed doors. you made dinner just because you felt like cooking? what a good wife you are. now spread your legs on the table, he’s craving something sweet now, he just wants to thank his wifey properly. and when the mission’s over and you finally get the green light to divorce, you feel a wave of relief when he lights the papers on fire right in front of you. he’s won, but you don’t care anymore, you've never felt this kind of bliss, not until you were with him. you’re back in your shared room, and he’s reciting his vows between your thighs, exactly where he belongs, like a real husband should.

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i want him. that's it.

I need them both so bad like bae pls AUGHWHSU.

RAHHHHH TULLY MEN

Listen we can see where Robb gets some his swagger

How I look at grown ass adults who write smut of MINORS and then putting MDNI like they arent writing literal child porn:

(This is pointed at JJK writers, yall are in your late 20s and early 30s and writing smut of minors half your age, be better.)

And no just because you age them up it doesnt make it right, it shows that YOU HAVE TO AGE THEM UP and that YOU KNOW ITS WRONG