#ros answers

[beingdoomedbythenarrativeissexy]

How fares thee, gentle Rosencrantz? I’ve not stopped smiling since I kissed him :’D perhaps I can do the same to you?

Ah! Dear Laertes, I am so very happy for you ^-^ Osric and yourself make a wonderful couple.

As for the final part of your message, er…. Perhaps. I haven’t a clue how you may go about doing that, but be my guest.

[railingsofsorrow]

can I request Seth Clearwater x male reader

male reader is Sam younger brother Seth age and also a alpha shifter just like Sam also reader is Seth imprint

plot Seth is feeling lonely after joining the pack because after he became a shifter he had cut all contact with his friends and although he had the pack there was nobody there his age for him to connect with Sam notices and Emily suggested for Seth to meet reader who live with Sam and Seth haven't met yet so they go back Sam house and head up to reader room where he was playing on his ps2 Seth and reader see each other as Seth inters the room and imprint on each other they become good friend playing ps2 together

this is a great idea! but sorry, anon. my requests are currently closed :(

[imlitterallyjustblogging]

Hello hi who are you

hello, hi its ros

[l3viat8an]

Lucifer is just so in love and obsessed with you. not in a scary way or anything- but in a very soft way, just melting completely whenever the simplest, everyday things remind him of his little lamb you.

it can be anything, really, maybe he sees your favorite pastry in a bakery or something in a shop window he thinks you’d like or maybe he simply passes somebody in the street that has the same hair color as you.

and before he can stop himself, Lucifer is reaching into his pocket for his phone to call you a soft little smile on his face. even if he can only hear your voice for a few seconds it’ll make his day so much better <3

[ronearoundblindly]

omg not me freaking out that i am part of the group that gets bait gifs! FRIENDS!!!!!!! i'm fine. i'm chill. don't leave me!

This took me a minute to figure out what I wanted Sir Dorksalot to have done that was sketchy enough to have him make this face...

Watch The Fish, Jake Jensen x reader headcanon wholeass fic in bullet format because my god this got long

Warnings for mentions of masturbation and porn, accidental then totally intentional voyeurism, awkward and oblivious!Jake--so just Jake, yeah?--and smutty implications...

🥹 roommates to lovers 😊

you rent a pretty large house maybe even with one or two others at first, but they move out

jake has to use it as a crashpad sometimes because he'll be away for so long at a time, but he pays rent and the entire electrical & internet bill no matter what

you keep a fish tank in the living room

after jake comes back from months in hiding abroad away, he gets so excited to be home and spend time with his niece that he hosts an after-game pizza party for her soccer team

someone practices headbutting the ball inside and nearly topples the tank

jake catches the whole thing with his broad arm-span and a decent amount of strength just in time when it wobbles the whole table beneath it. his heart nearly stopped, and he's so grateful the glass didn't break. thank god you weren't home.

however, you insist on moving the fish to your room instead once he tells you.

jake's a little sad to see them go. he pouts so much you decide to take pity on him, buying a web cam to mount beside the tank so jake can watch them whenever he wants. he loves to do voices for each one, personalities, soap-opera-like dramatic storylines, the works

as an aside you ask him if the sound can be turned off on the camera. jake says yeah but he mostly means he can turn it to mute on his computer.

which he does, for the record, but he has to remember to do it each time he pulls up the feed of da fishies. honestly, half the time he's wearing headphones and the other half you aren't home while he puts the Marauders (because there's just one fat one) onto his third monitor for background.

so he forgets that the sound is on and a thing he might need to avoid

weeks later, maybe months, jake finally removes his headphones after a very long stint of coding, completely unaware of what time it is and that you are home in your room

at first, jake is dead convinced that some porn ad has popped up in a window behind his work, something he would go apeshit about and ransomware bomb the shit out of whoever wrote such slippery spam

the fish are peaceful as ever, blooping away whilst jake frantically closes program after program trying to find the hot chick moaning on his desktop...until it's all closed and the buzzing remains though his tower's fan stopped...then the squelching noise starts

jake is frozen in place, looking away from the fish like they're the damn problem, but he doesn't cut the feed

he...he shouldn't

he should turn it off or just mute it like he promised

and he tries

he tries really hard, gang

it's the cursor's fault that it hits the command to send the audio to his bluetooth headphones instead of mute

and he sets the headphones down on the keyboard, gnawing on his bottom lip and watching his closed bedroom door in anticipation of...getting caught, maybe? he's not sure

he watches the fish putter around like it's no big deal

which it isn't, right?

you're human. he's human. humans have urges. they touch themselves--they touch each other, too--and there's no harm in that. if anything...jake encourages it, or he would...if you knew that he knew about this

the noises are so faint from the itty bitty speakers two feet from his face, but he doesn't pick them up, still debating what to do

because there's a big difference between what jake should do in this situation and what he wants to do

he mutes audio and then cuts off the livestream

at least, that's what he did the first time it happened

he knows he's a perv. jake can't help it.

it becomes a game of sorts. it's like practice recon for learning a target's routine. not that jake needs practice at the job he already fucking has but that's how his brain justifies laying on his own bed in the glow of the fish tank feed with his headphones turned way up

he knows your bed is on the other side of your room from when he moved the fish tank in

he knows what your underwear look like from the laundry room downstairs

he knows what you smell like from the shared bathroom and the products lining your shelf

he now knows there's a bottle of toy cleaner in one of your sink drawers

and he shouldn't but he absolutely touches himself listening to you, fists himself when you're fucking a toy he imagines six-shapes-to-Sunday, teases himself when all you're doing is breathing softly from across the whole house and he's cold and covered in cum by the end

to be fair, jake hates himself because of all this, but he is now mildly addicted

he doesn't even exit out of the livestream anymore. it just stays up on his monitor like a screensaver, but he doesn't realize that once he takes his headphones out of range, the audio transfers to his speakers again

so jake goes on a mission for a few days, and at some point while you are cleaning up your room, playing music, you find two pairs of jake's socks in your load of clean laundry and go to toss them in his room...where the same music you're listening to way down the hall is playing...in sync...

you're horrified and then embarrassed and then quickly realized it might mean nothing

you have to test if it means something

jake returns from his mission on complete autopilot

just so damn tired

throws down his duffle on top of some socks he doesn't remember leaving out and just hits the shower for a long, long time

he hasn't talked to you yet

he hasn't even seen you except your car is home and your door is shut

he goes about his business

the volume on his speakers isn't high but he hears you speaking and assumes you're on the phone

he pays it no mind. he is glad to be home, glad you're fine since he's just been in a part of the world where most people are not safe.

in a weird sort of way, he feels he's earned the mundane sort of comfort that comes from "the same ol'" of this house

he's wiped out, so he crawls into bed with his headphones immediately, hair barely toweled dry, not bothering with boxers because...why make more laundry?

and then the worst thing happens

there's a man's voice coming through his headphones, and jake scowls in frustration and rage

did you go and get a fucking boyfriend? in a couple of days? or goddamnit is this some tinder shit in his home right now?

but it only gets worse

he can hardly contain himself, what with the gagging sounds and this dude telling you to take it like the whore you are, and JAKE WILL LITERALLY BURN THIS PLACE DOWN

now his ass is putting on clothes

now his ass is ready to riot

the sex gets more and more degrading; spanking noises and even choking, but not in a seemingly consensual way, which is when jake rips his headphones off, storms down the hall and barrels straight through your bedroom door

where...you...aren't

no one is. no you. no man.

just your laptop sitting on your desk near the fish tank, playing the money shot of a porn video he was just listening to

get the fuck out. get out. get out. his brain screams, and he bolts

he makes it three feet before stopping short

you're standing at the top of the stairs, a bowl of ice cream in hand, licking the spoon unbelievably slowly with your whole tongue

you're fucked. you're fucked. you're fucked. his brain adds helpfully.

"hey, jakey," you say with a smile. "whatcha doing?"

A/N: this cat is officially my reaction to pretty much everything because...well...it's very accurate.

[Main Masterlist; Jake Jensen Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

THERE'S A SEQUEL!

[infamous-if]

Learning about G’s and Vic’s last names made me wonder which RO’s speak a second language and what kinds??

G is conversational in Italian, O is fluent in Korean, Seven understands Spanish better than they speak it, which isn't very well. They can probably keep up a conversation if they try hard enough!

[rosesundae]

What do you think about ghosts using your body while you sleep?

ADORE

At first it might not be too often. Waking up earlier, drenched in sweat with my thighs feeling stickier than normal. Maybe I had a nightmare, I’d try to justify while ignoring how… thick my juices were. They felt unnaturally cold too. It was just me, right?

Then they’d happen more often. I start remembering wet dreams, getting more and more frustrated when I wake up. Eventually I end up finishing myself when I wake, becoming a routine. Panties always end up soaked by the end. Most have stains from something I don’t know.

Eventually I wake up during a ghost’s session. Confused, aroused, and still sleepy, all I could do is gasp and moan while clenching around something. It feels like something’s splitting me open but there wasn’t anyone there. No strange shadows or heavy weight, only the sensations mimicking a cock pumping in and out repeatedly. Maybe that’s the first time they finally allow me to cum. I’m already awake, they don’t have to worry about being slow.

Its after they finish that I realize what the strange substance was leaking out of me each morning. Ice cold ectoplasm paints my walls white as I finally cum. Eyes rolling back, unable to stop shaking. Maybe they decide to do multiple rounds, fucking me full of them until they’ve had their fill. After that incident, more occur. Sometimes I’m awake, other times I’m sleeping. They didn’t have to hide anymore.

I could get protection. Exorcism, salt, whatever other superstitions work against ghosts. It would make it go away. But I’m too used to being their living free use doll. Ghosts must get incredibly lonely. I can’t blame them for being pent up. So why can’t I help them?

[apt502-if]

What kind of things would you say that are flaws from the other ros? Like maybe "little things" that would make people look at the ro and cringe or something lol

good one :P I like this question. We focus too much on positives let's get down to the nitty gritty :P Still what if this ruins the allure of the ROs? My 502 career would be over before it even started! :P

⚠️ Don't read if you're easily turned off! ⚠️

So we established for Rainn it's that they'd definitely fly private if they had the means. Rainn also has a bad habit of ordering their food at a counter while texting. Makes them seem like an asshole but they don't do it on purpose. They're just too into their work emails to realize they look impolite.

This is Callum specific but they tend to manspread on the train. They also don't do it on purpose and when someone takes notice they apologize profusely but can't stop doing it LOL. Cal big package?? im just kidding or maybe not

In reverse, f!C likes to take off her put her stuff on the seat next to her and takes up two seats.

Other than that for f!C and m!C I think they're too anxious not to be self-aware of everything they're doing and how other people feel about them so I don't see any little thing other than probably cringy PDA with Taren :P

M can't handle not looking at their phone during a movie at the theater. At least they're considerate enough to turn down their brightness? :< I like to imagine that MC used to slap it out of their hand when they went together and M would just say an embarrassed "sorry..." and then sneakily try to keep looking at their texts.

Like Cal, when A is on the train they'll put their stuff on the seat next to them and take up two seats. Unlike Cal, this is very on purpose. They don't want people sitting next to them.

I think the cringiest thing about Andi is that they take photos of their food like a regular instagram influencer would LOL sometimes with the ring light on their phone and everything

L's phone background is a picture of themself. IDK if that's cringy but I know people find it cringy so :P

[exilethegame]

Hey, first thing, I wanted to say that I absolutely loved your WIP and I eagerly await the next update <3 Also, it was mentioned that you can't romance Nikke if you are a cruel/evil commander, what does cruel/evil involve? Are we not going to be able to avenge ourselves? :(

I can't really answer this for spoilery reasons but all I'll say is in terms of coding + logistics, there is a difference between MC wanting to avenge themself vs. MC wanting to "do that and WORSE" to ppl. For example, MC killing someone who did them severe wrong will not be counted the same as MC deciding "killing that person wasn't enough, I need to do more" and dragging innocents into it.

Basically, anything that involves hurting innocent ppl w/ Nikke is a hard, hard no. Anything outside of that and Nikke could not care less.

[thelonelyshore-if]

How would each ro act after the first morning after waking up next to mc?

I was so thoroughly obsessed with this prompt that I just kept writing as I was working on Beck's answer. And then I realized I wanted to just like...write drabbles for each of the ROs. So I'm going to do that. Sorry that it isn't all at once, Nonnie, but I love this prompt and wanted to really write something out for each. I hope you still enjoy! <3

Beck- drabble here!

Croft- wip

Jay- wip

Perri- wip

Ravi- wip

Yasmin- wip

[beingdoomedbythenarrativeissexy]

Just heard of this thing called “Pride Month.” Apparently it’s something to celebrate! So Happy Pride Month :]

Fascinating! What are we supposed to be proud of?

[railingsofsorrow]

heyyyy what are your wip’s looking like!

MY CURRENT WIP's

I'm glad you asked. these are my most recent ones! ✍

COUNTDOWN (I'll post this one in the next few days like I promised, final touches.)

[s. reid x bau!reader]

Blood and wine were indistinguishable. You couldn't move, you couldn't breathe, the world was giving up on you (or was it the other way around?). You had to keep fighting. If there's one thing you are sure of is that they would find you. He would find you. You just didn't know how much longer you could take until then. Or.... in which you're abducted by the newest BAU's unsub and it feels like you're out of their radar.

DIFFERENT WAYS OF SAYING I LOVE YOU

[s.reid x bau!reader]

The different ways you say I love you to Spencer but neither him nor you realize that. Everyone else does.

DO YOU NEED ME?

[s.reid x bau!reader]

A blurb based on these prompts “Do you need me?” “... It's 1a.m.” “Do you need me?” “... Yes, yes, I need you.” “I'll be there in ten.”

DECEPTIONS OF A FAIRYTALE

[s.reid x reader]

[series]

She's a patient and he's an FBI profiler who visits occasionally. They play chess. That's it, it never surpassed that. It cannot surpass that. They have their own demons that won't leave anytime soon. But when all that Spencer thinks about is how he misses her voice and the dimples in her smile... he knows it's checkmate for him.

GODS AT DAWNING (still planning this one)

[s.reid x reader; jackson avery x reader]

Crossover between episode 6×24 of Grey's Anatomy and episode 7×24 of Criminal Minds.

TRUTH

[p.parker x reader]

[broken promises’s final chapter; inspired by all too well]

[series]

Peter kept you like a secret but you kept him like an oath. Or... in which you remember everything and Peter and you finally talk.

HOME IS WHEREVER I'M WITH YOU

[wolfstar!dads ft. teddy lupin]

The one where Teddy is fussing the whole night; Sirius’s almost crying along with him; and Remus comes to the rescue.

YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE THE SUN ALL THE TIME

[sunseeker blurb au]

He's been a steady rock all of this life. To his friends, to his parents, to himself. But why does he feel as if he's sinking? Or... in which James Potter feels overwhelmed and his boyfriend is there to help.

FOREVER WINTER

[r.black x best friend!reader]

Reg is there for you when you need someone.

DON'T BLAME ME

[kol mikaelson x vampire!reader]

It was with bloodied lips and crimson red dripping down her exposed neck that he fell in love.

IN YOUR WEDDING DAY

[kol mikaelson x reader]

There's a reason her white dress is stained with blood and not champagne from a good party. There's a reason she's on the floor, sobbing, clutching her chest as if it will pluck out the pain. There's a reason for this. But she doesn't know why.

CRUEL SUMMER

[jj maybank x reader]

[sequel to anti-hero, but can be read as a stand-alone]

You've been missing out a lot by being scared. Now you're just going to swim the waves because, as the boy who stole your heart says, stupid things have good outcomes all the time.

GIRL CRUSH

[k.carrera x pogue!reader; k.carrera x sarah cameron]

You were smitten for a certain pogue, but she only had eyes for the Kook Princess. Or... in which you were in love with Kiara Carrera but she was head over heels for Sarah Cameron.

THE LOUIS TOMLINSON ANTHOLOGY

Drabbles, blurbs, one-shots, multi-chapter fics and what-not based on Louis Tomlinson's discography.

THE BILLIE EILISH ANTHOLOGY

Drabbles, blurbs, one-shots, multi-chapter fics and what-not based on Billie Eilish’s discography.

THE LARRY PROJECT

[oc x oc]

Drabbles, blurbs, one-shots, multi-chapter fics and what-not based on songs that remind me of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson. It follows two original characters.

▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

[imlitterallyjustblogging]

Yo yo yo its ya boi skinny penis!

asher istg 😂😂😂

[l3viat8an]

Stuck somewhere between Mammon can solve a rubik’s cube in like 30 seconds or Mammon can’t solve a rubik’s cube to save his life.

[ronearoundblindly]

Drabble Birthday Ask!

Reader finally 'catches' the thing Steve's been hiding... it's that he's tired. He's tired, and he thinks it's non-inspiring or embarrassing or a burden, and he has been acting weird to cover for that.

Steeeeeeb!!!! Yes of course some TLC for Stevie. Excellent. Would recommend. 11 out of 10. Always give him the peace and safety! (Don't hate me though; it's just a bit of established relationship fluff!)

I am uncharacteristically skipping the part where you confront Steve about this. Yes, that's right. Remain calm. Ro has passed up the opportunity to write an argument. Hold your applause. WC idk but probably 2k or less (bit of a surprise at the end, too 🤭)

It's so easy.

It's just so damn easy to lose track, to keep going, to repeat. One more conversation. One more chore. One more hour. One more day. One more.

More. Constantly more.

Steve is very good at giving more. He is consistent, constant, incessant, but you can see now that despite his unending strength, your husband can't hide that drawn, fragile look behind his eyes any longer.

Sometimes, that's life.

"Actually, scratch that shit," Tony says with a flagrant point to your face as you chat. "Life is always like that. I know what Big Guy needs, don't you worry. Consider it sorted."

This speed-date style convo tumbles through a ten-second-savoring of tea. You got one cryptic sentence about 'how you're doing' in before Tony perfectly translates your meaning.

For once, more is unnecessary. He knows.

Stark, however, doesn't even have a moment to finish the turn up of his lips in a smile before his watch is pinged.

His eyes focus to the inside of his glasses. "Go for the World's Most Fashionable Hero," he deadpans, wandering off with his mug clasped like a lifeline in his hands.

Yeah, you know that feeling. Wit's End must be as contagious as pinkeye 'round these parts.

Steve's been silent for the last hour of the car ride. He checks the address. He checks the map. He checks the road. That's it.

Music he usually hates has been playing for fifty-one minutes and counting. No reaction.

Clearly, you were right to ask Stark for help.

The gravel drive up to the cabin is bumpy, and Steve apologizes for having to go so slowly.

"Almost there. I think it's--yeah, there. Okay, we're here." Your husband flips the key back and out of the ignition, a stunted sigh forcing it's way past his tight shoulders, immediately opening the door and heading for the trunk. "I'll get the bags. You get the--"

"Steve? Will you come with me for a sec?"

He looks at you--really sets his eyes on you--for the first time since loading the car.

"What's wrong?"

You crunch up to the short staircase to the long porch. "Just come up here, please."

It takes another wave of your hand in encouragement before Steve abandons the small duffels and totes. He's not used to leaving a man behind. He's got a mission. He's supposed to finish the job. Always one more thing.

More. Constantly more. That's Steve's life, and he does it without complaint. Never, ever complaining, even when he should.

His heavy, tired feet fall hollowly on the wood.

"We're starting now," you chirp, excited to surprise him.

Steve tips his bodyweight to lean on the banister, crossing his ankles before crossing his arms, his head down while sneaking a squint-and-blink to try and bounce his energy back.

"Sure, what's first on the list?"

"Oh, no," you correct. "The list is mine. Those are my activities for the weekend. You are here."

His brow furrows. "What? You're gonna--"

"Steve." You gently hold onto his arms. "I mean, you have nothing to do. Not a single thing. And I don't care where you do it, but you will be doing nothing all weekend. Sleep in the bed, on the couch, on the dingy over there, hell, right here on the porch swing. It doesn't matter. It's your rest, but you must rest."

"What about--"

"Nope."

"Or if--"

"Uh-uh, definitely not."

Steve looks slightly panicked. "Dinner?" he tries in a last-ditch effort to be useful every minute of every day.

"There is a bag of stuff that I will be dumping into a crockpot and walking away from, so, no, you can't do that either."

He's still not sure, eyes glassy and flickering about.

"There's fruit for breakfast, veggies and dip for snacks, and we don't have to even turn on the stove unless we want to. Now--" you release him "--I'm putting stuff away and--"

Steve opens his mouth to argue.

"--and not one word out of you. Not one, sweets. Go. Be free. Sleep. Stare at the water, or a wall, or the ceiling for all I care, but you have nothing else to do today. Okay?"

His eye twitches, a half-hearted glare melting into a challenge in his tight jaw.

"Okay???" you prod.

His hands fling out in defeat. "You told me not to say a word," he whines, automatically making his way back down the stairs.

"No bags," you scold.

He whips around, almost muttering.

"No bags." You rush down and past him toward the car. "And I will bring you looser clothes to sleep in."

"You--"

"AH!"

"But--"

"What did I just say, Rogers?"

Now he just looks petulant, a familiar mood in your household.

You stubbornly point to the cabin. "Go on. Git!"

He watches you bring in the mindfully-light bags you packed up for the trip, pouting and scowling in equal measure.

Steve has to show off at least once by snatching up a bit of potato that rolled across the counter in the transfer of dinner.

Instead of thanking him, you shove a t-shirt and thin sweats at his chest.

He fakes an oof of surprise and traps you for a quick kiss before going to change. He does leave you alone for the rest of setting up.

Steve is dead asleep on the deep, two-seater porch swing when you head to the little work shed, his knees bent so he faces in, his forehead buried in cushion to block out daylight, already snoring softly.

You have to hold your hands to your chest so as not to touch him. Tears of joy prick your eyes seeing him relax so quickly.

Steve can follow orders when he wants to, you think with a smile.

In the garden shed, Pepper has all the cool crafting things, and you putz around with some wood pieces and paints for a couple of hours. You walk the perimeter of the cabin to find some nice wildflowers for a table centerpiece, mixing delicate stems of blue buds with expansive wisps of white and little pops of yellow. You attempt to figure out the dingy but decide against going on the water alone yet. Maybe tomorrow.

At no point does Steve move.

When you walk up to the house, fist full of flowers, he's out cold, softly swaying in the breeze as the gusts pick up in the afternoon.

You snack and listen to music in your headphones, doze in the bed after the sun warmed you a little too much, and then wake to the smell of stew.

The beep of the crockpot wakes him.

Bedhead and pillow mishmarks on his cheek look great on Steve Rogers.

Without argument, he washes his hands and sits at the reclaimed wood table.

Steve says only two things:

"Thank you" when you set a large bowl in front of him, and "can you pass the salt?" after he taste-tests the meal.

He reads a book until falling asleep for the night with you, curled with his knees bent again.

He does well.

He keeps resting, multiple times with his book open on his chest, barely to halfway after hours and hours of holding on to the browning paperback pages.

He rests in the bed. He rests on the couch. He rests (again) on the porch swing. Finally, he rests in your lap while you both float on the lake in the dingy.

He rests with you by his side. He rests with you in his arms. He rests even when you leave to do something else. It's exactly what you wanted, what he needed, and how it should be.

Steve mumbles a fair few things, but the most important thing is that none of it is important enough to articulate. He doesn't have to talk. He doesn't have to be heard. He doesn't have to be understood.

He only has to rest, and he's following orders well. He's completing his mission.

It is truly fascinating how close you can feel without words--okay, so you two aren't completely non-verbal for the weekend, but there are no long conversations. After being married for a while, those are not entirely necessary. You know each other too well for all that; Steve simply feels the stigma of being weak and tired from his youth.

He holds himself to a different, impossible standard. He thinks of it as pushing the limits of his serum, as offering everything he has to others, as respecting those he cares for by shouldering burdens. You think it's stupid.

It is the only stupid thing Steve Rogers does.

Now, after days of resting, you're pretty sure Steve knows he was being stupid.

You hope he knows he can ask for help or a break whenever he wants, before he needs it this badly.

To your great delight, Steve gathers up his things that were left around the house, but he leaves the actual packing to you. This is very helpful in keeping the final surprise.

He's watching the water, sitting up in the porch swing for once with an arm thrown over the back, an easy, calm smile stretched across his face, the first you've seen in months if you're being honest.

Steve gestures for you to join him, but you bite your lip and check the gravel drive.

Exactly on schedule, an engine revs and wheels crackle over the gravel.

You wink at your husband just as excited shouts ring out from Tony's fancy car.

"Papa! Papa! Look what Morgan and I found at the beach!"

"I made you a seashell necklace, Momma. You, too, Pops."

Your children race up the porch steps and jump into the space below Steve's arm.

His smile is still easy, but perhaps a little more excited than calm.

More. Constantly more.

But it's not all tiring...

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay

@rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

[zico-if]

how would the ROs react if a very grumpy/angry MC (obv traumatised lil baby) one day like genuinely laughed

Ilya:

It's such a small little thing, yet they can't help but be completely entranced by the sound of your voice. They find themselves staring at you, stunned into a silence that doesn't break until you turn to look at them with a puzzled look and blurt out a short "what?"

It's then a gentle smile breaks across their face, wider than anything you've ever seen with a happiness twinkling in their eyes that stems just from that simple noise.

"Nothing," they reply, burning the sound of your laughter to their memory. They'd like to hear it again, if you'd let them.

Vira:

She pauses her motion, stilling her hands when she hears you laugh. She turns to look at you, tilting her head slightly to the side. "Did you...just laugh?" She questions, like she's uncertain if she heard it correctly.

"Yes?" you answer.

"Mm. I see," she says, satisfied with the answer and turns back to doing whatever it was she was doing, a faint and subtle smile gracing her lips. You don't fail to notice that her gaze seems to fall on you every now and then, as if hoping to catch you in the act of laughing.

Aurius:

Almost immediately, Aurius snaps his gaze towards the source of the sound. "You laughed," he points out, not bothering to hide the childlike smile on his face.

You blink at him. "I...did," you confirm, schooling your face back to a natural neutrality.

His smile never wavers. He looks at you as if you're a dream made reality. "It's truly a lovely sound," he confesses. "Perhaps one of my favourites." He'd never heard you laugh like that before. And oh how so euphoric it is to hear you do so.

Rhian:

When they hear you laugh, their eyes widen so much that it looks almost comical and in an instant, they'd wish that they'd been able to record that moment so they could reply it over and over. Suddenly, it becomes all that they can think of: hearing that sound again. That warm genuine laughter. "Could you do that again?" They ask.

"Hm? Do what?"

"That sound you just made. The laughter. I'd like to hear it again...please?" they ask, even adding a please to sound polite. Just once more. Even if it takes them a hundred tries to make you laugh, they only need to hear it just once more, because who would've thought that such a simple sound could bring them to their knees just like that.