Professional, full-time fictosexual simp. Occasionally writing. Trying for the thirsty Olympics. Youâre more than welcome to make requests, but Iâm only gonna write what Iâm really interested in. Comments>Reblogs>Likes
This makes me feel like such a boomer, but I hate it how all media has been TikTok-ified and algorithm primed. Songs are shorter, designed for short viral clips rather than a full listening experience. TV shows and movies are sloppier, dragging on and on, assuming youâll be on your phone and have it only in the background. Even books have been chewed up and spat back out as easily consumable tropes, with bite-sized chapters and mannequins for characters. This late stage capitalism hellscape weâre in has made art into something you snack on rather than savor.
Very nonchalant, annoyingly so. Did anyone expect him to get queasy about blood? Only half of the red stains on your bedsheets belong to you (nasty dude doesnât always wanna shower after his sprees)
The only thing that could irritate him is your hormones. If you happen to get on his nerves, youâre gonna get a solid squeeze around your throat reminding you whoâs in control hot. If you get emotional and start crying over little things, he literally has no idea what to do. Pats your shoulder in the post awkward way.
Wonât think to bring you water, painkillers, or heating pads. He barely ever takes care of his own injuries, let alone your monthly pains. Heâll let you squeeze his hand though.
If youâre ever in a circumstance where you need pads/tampons ASAP, his solution is to kill the nearest woman and check her purse. Do with that what you will.
Jason Vorhees
He thinks youâre dying. His mother did not bother to teach him a single thing about periods and, as far as he knows, blood means injury. Every month, no matter how much you insist youâre okay, heâs doting over you like itâs your last day on earth. Very grateful when it ends.
Yes, he will bring you anything you want or need. He will ransack the camp grounds for any medicine. He will hike several miles to the nearest gas station if you ask for a chocolate bar. He will personally hold your head up so you can drink water without moving. Please tell him heâs doing a good job.
Heâs also the only slasher on here that wonât have sex with you at all while youâre bleeding. He gets really flustered about sex in the first place, but doing it while youâre âinjuredâ is totally unacceptable in his mind. Your undead gentleman.
Bubba Sawyer
Heâs the second, but not last, slasher on this list to not know what a period is. Drayton is the only one in the family who has an inkling of an idea what youâre going through, but why would he ever bother to have that conversation with his brothers?
Like Jason, he assumes youâre hurt. Unlike Jason, heâs not too shy to investigate. The first time he sees a little blood on your thigh while youâre sleeping, he panics and fully rips off your underwear to see what happened. Once you calm him down and assure him that everything is okay, he cries tears of joy.
He will bring you cups of water and put his large, warm hands on your lower stomach to ease your cramps. He could easily spend the whole day cuddling you into relaxation (before getting yelled at for not doing his chores). Also, I donât see his bed having any sheets, just bare mattress. So those stains are never coming out.
If you want painkillers, youâll have to ask Drayton, who buys them for you once you mention itâs a female thing. Small note, but if the twins ever catch wind of your cycle, theyâll cause you literal hell with teasing. This whole family is very repressed.
Otis Driftwood
An asshole. Heâs such an asshole. In general, but especially when youâre on your period. Heâll make you beg for a Tylenol, complain about the prices of your pads/tampons, and insist that you donât get âtoo bitchyâ with him just because youâre bleeding. He just likes riling you up.
Doesnât hide his very obvious blood kink. Iâm not gonna make this overly smutty, but he makes sure that his hands, face, and crotch are all thoroughly red at one point during your cycle. And he doesnât bother showering until the next morning either.
Baby is a little kinder about it. Sheâs still teases, but thereâs a lot more love in her tone. If you guys ever sync up, Otis makes a huge fucking deal over âhaving to dealâ with both of you.
Billy Lenz
Only half-knows what a period is. He thought that women lose all their blood at once a month then continue as normal. Is very disturbed when you inform him that it lasts multiple days.
He thinks your pain is a little funny. Heâll giggle at your groans and poke you in the stomach just to bug you. But heâs not totally heartless, heâll still reheat your pad and give you back massages. And sloppy makeouts. Heâll never pass up the opportunity to makeout with you.
Doesnât stop being a little pervert though. Loves the smell of blood coming off of you. Insists that he needs to eat you out to heal your pain. Will jerk off over the used pads that you leave in the bathroom trash can.
Brahms Heelshire
So we all know that Brahms was never taught a single thing about female anatomy. However, he did relentlessly stalk you within his own house before you guys ever officially met. I think itâs possible that he saw you getting and dealing with your period through the bathroom walls at some point and he was just like Oh. Okay.
Mightâve pulled a Billy and been weird with your used pads donât judge him okay
Being totally obsessed with you, he doesnât mind your blood all the much. Whether itâs on his sheets, clothes, or skin. He doesnât care as long as youâre with him. He might be able to sense that youâre a little more irritable than usual, so he tries to be an extra extra good boy for you.
He also has a habit of copying you and it doesnât stop on your period. When you take a painkiller, he wants to take one too. When you eat chocolate, he eats chocolate. When you nap, he wraps his limbs around you and listens to your breathing until you wake up.
Guys my cramps have been so fucking awful Iâm not proofreading this shit
Can we get some nsfw headcanons for pinhead with sensory deprivation? Thank you!!
The first time he suggested this you were a bit suspicious
The only reason is that lately he had been looking for a reason to put a blindfold on you
He's a crafty and slippery man and knows his way around words
So when he told you this was something you'd enjoy
I mean its pinhead technically when he says that you'll enjoy it, he means that, but he also means that he'll enjoy you enjoying yourself or enjoying you not enjoying yourself
He loves watching you squirm so this whole sensory thing is a big turn on for him
He would do anything to see you this way all the time
Now he is a tease
He says he's not but you know he knows he just likes to deny your claims
He loves doing it and likes to defy you because you getting just the tiniest bit angry at him is his window to making you his
So when you "agreed" he was rather snide and was almost too excited
In his own way of course
His way being, no facial expression of any kind, but rushing to make this event happen as soon as possible
When he finally has you on the bed and completely at his mercy he is straight to the point
The blindfold is fastened to your head and he is like a man on a mission to making your crumble and writhe in his hands
He laughs at your whimpers and whine and confused facial expressions
He mocks your confusion
"What's the matter lamb? Trying to figure out what I have next for you? I don't plan on making you wait any longer. Just be a good pet and I won't have to give you any punishments."
You almost want to test him and see how far you'd have to go to get these "punishments" but you don't, knowing him, they are not going to be something simple
He enjoys your pleasured sounds
He encourages them
Praises you for being good and will occasionally stroke your cheek lovingly
His aftercare is limited
Kisses and stuff are "difficult" but he will fetch you anything you need and will sit with you
Literally sit, upright in bed, stiff as a board, but if you desire to hold him he will try to be less stiff if that's what you desire from him
random brainbomb of a headcanon blurb thingy, but I'll write proper realtionship hcs soon and order this properly lmao- enjoy this while you wait đ
Sure, Feyd-Rautha's a freaking sadistic mad mess Harkonnen, but after watching how he responded to Margot Fenring, you cannot tell me that he's incapable of some form of admiration and awe and... love? when he meets the right person who can somehow, somehow, manage him.
Let's say he wasn't completely mentally manipulated or seduced if you are a Bene Gesserit, because he's not drawn to you by any kind of force or external influence. It's the simple fact that he can't understand how and why you're different amongst the thousands of people who cower and flinch in his presence. Why do you look at him like he's not an abomination? What do you know?
I feel like he'd treat you like one of his prized possessions after suddenly and randomly deciding and declaring that you're his now, lucky lucky you, and the best pet he's ever received... maybe for his birthday, if that's when you met? Hands-on, grabby Harkonnen with no boundaries, no limits. All at your disposal.
He just has to learn every little thing about you - how you react to everything he says and does, little things obvious things. If your eyes light up in excitement or in fear when he slashes countless throats for you because their heads kept turning in your direction when you walked into the room. Or how you'd like to be given the best of everything, dressed in beautifully sleek black robes as a rare Harkonnen beauty.
And being the only person he'll stop mid-cut through when you ask him not to hurt someone so badly, not to lose all sense of reason just because he's bored. It's that moment of hesitation that makes the Baron stop in shock and bewildered wonder, because his nephew will answer to no one. Yet, here you stand.
And you stand with him by choice? You don't run away as soon as you're given the chance, don't betray him or curse his name if there's a chance he'll be removed? Paul is shook đ: that's literally his face lol
So when he goes to stand against him and challenge him on behalf of opposing Emperor Shaddam, don't think you're not in the young Atreide's line of sight now, because even though he plans on securing his position by taking the hand of Irulan, he'll be the Emperor, and he can bend the rules however they please him if there's something he wants to understand and take rightfully, away from the filth and bloodstained hands of your Feyd Rautha.
King Candy takes advantage of the luxuries of his new life, while still longing for the simple pleasures of his old.
Characters: King Candy/Turbo, Sour Bill, Turbo Twins (mentioned)
Tags: Smoking, bubble bath, eating lots of sweets, angst
Completed on September 15th, 2024. 1476 words.
...
The new skin felt strange. It was softer than he was used to, higher definition. The flesh was unscared, the eyes bright, the cheeks jolly. The cadaverous pallor, the sunken eyes, the body he had carried his entire life was gone, phased out, banished into electric aether.
It wasnât what he had before. He could smile again, but it wasnât the same smile. He had a car again, but it wasnât his red rocket. He didnât have the simple pleasures of his home world; the gentle wave of the pixelated green grass, the earthy scent of the simple dirt loop, the reliable company of the twin racersâŠ
Whatever. He didnât need them. He didnât need any of it. It was old software; untextured, primitive. The players had outgrown it, he had outgrown it. It didnât deserve him. What he deserved was this! A castle, hundreds of subjects hanging off his every word, glitter graphics, high definition, a spotlight, a crown! It was the least fate could repay him for his suffering, rotting unknown in crawl spaces for ten years.
His honey brown eyes bounded over the walls of his new domain, cataloged it, let his mouth water. Pink cookie walls, rainbow sugar glass, sparkling white icing. It had been a long, long time since heâd had a taste of something sweet.Â
At the urging of his tongue he dove in, flew through his castle, eager to see every room, sample every flavor. Devour it, all of it, literally and metaphorically. It was his, all of it, all of it!Â
He admired the paintings of ice cream landscapes, chewed the corners off the nightstand in the cheesecake guest room, let the swirl of the lollipops hypnotize him, Let chocolate doorknobs melt in his mouth, ran his palms up the twisting licorice banister, broke peppermint decorations off the walls and sucked them to points.Â
He was in the middle of licking the icing off a gingerbread headboard when he caught the movement of a stranger behind him. He leapt off the bed and hurried to make himself presentable. The stranger stared back, licking his lips, adjusting the cuffs of his purple suit. The stranger had that look on his face, the look of being caught in the act.Â
He approached, cautiously. The stranger approached, cautiously. They lifted their hands, fingers meeting on the mirrorâs glass. The strange reflection turned its head, ran itâs peach fingers over the wisps of gray hair above its ears, squished the soft cheek, pulled at the corner of the lip, ran a red tongue over white teeth. It stood back a bit, dusted itself off. The reflection wore a purple tailcoat, gold puff pants, caramel leggings, a lace collar, a gold crown and a shimmering red candy wrapper bow tie.Â
Not a single color carried over, no textures, not a sliver of his old face. This was good. It was. No one would ever recognise him. Even he didn't recognise him. He left the room. The stranger moved to follow, then vanished as he shut the door.
âŠ
His roomâŠ. His roomâŠ. Ooh⊠he couldn't make a decision on it. It was different. Very different from what he was accustomed to. There was a rug, a clean one. Gingerbread armoires, rock candy lamps, footstools, a fainting couch, a make-up desk, wallpaper, a four poster bed with satin curtains! All white and pink. There was no black plastic, no exposed wires, no oil, no rubber, no concrete, no trophy shelf. Just sugar.Â
He wanted to fix it. Bring in the scent of tools and grease, rust, motor oil and gasoline, antifreeze, real dirt, real grime. Was there anything real in this world?Â
He reached for the pocket of his jumpsuit. His fingers grazed gold silk. He chuckled nervously and moved a hand to the new pocket within the interior breast of his tailcoat. He removed the contents and laid them on the bed. His last cigarette. A nondescript lighter. The password to the code room written on the corner of a Tapperâs napkin. These three things were the only possessions he had deemed essential enough to take with him. His homemade beer bottle string lights, portable radio, cassette tapes, checkered flag pillow, the steering wheel of his old car, all had to be left in the bowls of GCS. They were too big. Too tied to his old name. They were useless anyway, he didn't need old junk dragging him down.Â
He took the cigarette between his teeth, lit the end, and let the smoke ease his rattled code. Tabaco lifted his insides, wafted from his lips, overpowered the smell of sugar. He breathed, out and in, tapped the ash off and kicked it under the bed. His softened gaze fell on the door to the bathroom. His personal, private bathroom. A luxury the greatest racer ever had yet to experience. A smile pinched the corners of his mouth. He slipped his possessions back into his tailcoat and locked himself in the new room.
The bathroom was pink and white, same as the bedroom, but it had more of the later color than the former. The floor was tiled with sugar cubes and the windows were made from frosted sugar glass, but the pink clawfoot tub was remarkably normal looking. Finally. He turned the wheel atop the gold faucet and watched crystal water flow. He frowned. This wasn't some strange candy water was it? He wasn't going to bathe in soda. He parked his cigarette between his first two fingers and leaned over the edge of the tub for a taste. Alright, it was just sparkling water. He could deal with that. He put the cigarette back between his lips, tossed in a bit of soap that promised a perfect bubble bath and stood aside to remove his clothes.Â
He found something to recognise once his model was striped to its base. The skin may be different, but he still had the same bones, the same basic shape. The oversized head, short limbs, long feet, pudgy belly. He shifted the cigarette from the right corner of his mouth to the left and stuck a familiar pose; chest lifted, right hand gripping a (nonexistent) trophy, left hand giving the thumbs up.
âTurbotastic!â
He almost said, catching the phrase before it left his mouth. His arms fell to his sides. The cigarette drooped on his lip.Â
Careful, careful. You canât keep anything from your old life. Itâs gone. You're not getting any of it back. You're above it anyway, you've grown beyond. Throw off the old rags.Â
He breathed smoke from his nose, shaking his head and muttering nonsense. He tapped cigarette ash into the sink, turned the faucet off and eased into his bubble bath. The soapâs label had been honest, some of the bubbles were nearly the size of his head. It was probably scented like something sweet, but he couldn't smell it through the tobacco. The water was what he expected; warm, fresh. Cleaner than him, almost certainly.Â
He lay back. Soaking. Smoking his cigarette down to its filter. He started to hum to himself.Â
âHmm⊠hm hm hm hm, hm hm hm hm, hm hm h-â
The trumpets of the Turbotime overture played between his ears. The cheer of the plywood crowd. The way his fingers gripped the wheel, the way heâd turn it at the south bend, the dust heâd kick up, the way the twins would curse him when it got in their mouths, the way heâd laugh. They would beat him up after the race sometimes, when he t-boned them or made them spin out, but they always forgave him in time. If they had lived, would they have forgiven him for-
No, no no no stop stop STOP. He had to stop thinking about it, it had to disappear, he had to forget. He needed a distraction. He should have brought his casetes, more cigarettes. He threw a bar of soap at the service button beside the door. He missed, badly. He threw a larger bar and hit it this time. A dreary voice crackled over the intercom.Â
âKing Candy?â
âSour Bill! I need music brought to my bathroom!â
A long pause. âLike⊠a band?âÂ
âNo no! A radio, a walkman, something along those lines!âÂ
âMmmm⊠we have a record player.âÂ
âThat will do. Bring it in.â
âYes sir. What kind of music do you want?â
He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. âAnything, something⊠something energetic. I need cheering up.âÂ
âYes sir. Is there anything else you need?â
He took a final drag, kept the smoke in his body as long as he dared, then let it escape. A ghostly tower, part of his soul fading into the air. He sighed.Â
âNo, that will be all.â
End
Author's notes: this was my first time writing fanfiction since like, 2019. It was fun to write something short and in a very different setting than what I normally write in. :)
The ache in your head doesnât compare to the absolute ecstasy building up between your legs. Your neck hangs limp off of the edge of the bed, causing a painful blood flow to your skull, eyes occasionally falling out of their rolled-up position to see his unvacuumed carpet. But you donât dare move, save for the occasional arch in your back and twitch of your thighs. Heâs comfortable, youâre fucked stupid, and the both of you are too caught up in the moment to adjust. Well, mostly caught up.
His face is exactly where you need it to be; buried deep in your cunt. His lips suckle eagerly at your swollen clit, tongue occasionally swiping down to get a taste of your leaking, pulsing hole. Every now and then, he pulls away for half a second to get a fresh breath of air, before diving right back in like he was deprived. Youâre sure that his jaw is in just as much pain as your neck is, and you make a mental note to yourself to grab some painkillers for the both of you once this is finished up.
His left hand is stretched up and pawing at your chest, groping your tit like itâs the only thing anchoring him to the planet. There are red marks from where his fingernails had scraped down your collarbone and ribcage. He occasionally plucks at your nipple, letting his curious fingers wave over it and give it a pinch. Your right breast is feeling awfully neglected compared to your left, because he hasnât reached up for it yet.
Because his right hand is âbusyâ.
Because his right hand is doing the most ridiculous, most Tomura thing it could possibly be doing.
His right hand is holding his phone, propped up at the bottom of your stomach, while is thumb swipes at the screen. While your beloved boyfriend is greedily eating your pussy, he also has the audacity to play Mobile Tetris, right there on your sensitive body. He was playing it while you two cuddled, he was playing it when you began to kiss at his scarred neck, and he was still playing it when he first shimmied your panties off. You almost asked him to put it down at one point, but he just so happened to bite your thigh at exactly that moment and you never found the words again.
Itâd be a lie to say youâd never fucked him while he gamed before. In fact, you distinctly remember riding him for half an hour while he was replaying Portal. Youâre pretty sure thereâs still a slight stain in the leather of his gaming chair from how wet you were. And you agreed to blow him once if he did some grinding in Minecraft for you, and it just made sense to do them at the same time. And youâŠmightâve given him a few handjobs while he was Micâd up on COD. Mostly to tease him. And there was that time he made you cum on his vibrating Xbox controller, but youâre not even sure what game he was playing then.
Somehow, compared to those instances, this seemed even more bizarre. He was nice enough to keep the sound off, because youâre not sure you could stay sane getting off to those beeps and blips and 8-bit music. But you can still feel it; each time he clears a row, a small rumble goes from the phone into your gut, and he squeezes your breast a bit harder in victory.
Tears begin to from in your eyes, threatening to drip on your forehead. Your skin feels like static, in a good way. You might die if you donât position yourself upright pretty soon, but itâs not a death you find yourself being that upset about. You wonder if Tomura has beaten his highscore yet. His tongue slithers down, giving a few punches to your hole while his nose nuzzles against your clit. You gasp his name, and he says yours back, as though this was a game to test each other. As though he even needed another game in this moment.
You try to hump up against his face, but he puts a quick end to that with a hard flick to your nipple. A warning. Another vibration crawls up your torso and he has the audacity to smile against you , teeth grazing your lower lips.
You whine, âShiggy, please!â He hums in response, something between being agitated and entertained. He licks a stripe upward, then kisses your pussy once-twice-three times before giving in. His mouth opens wide and he fully takes you in, tongue worming at rapid speed. He has no business being this incredible.
You writhe, with the pleasure finally filling out your limbs, tightening and tensing at a measured pace. Tetris mustâve gotten more difficult at the point, because heâs now growling and sending horribly-wonderful tremors into your sex. All without dropping the damned phone. Youâre tempted to berate him until you feel precise circles doing around your clit and you have no choice but to put all of your energy into coming.
And boy, do you come. You instinctively shoot a hand down and pull him up by his hair, bucking against his mouth while he makes quick work of lapping up your spilling juices. The tension in your stomach breaks, youâre mewling like a maniac, it seems like the world stops just for these internal fireworks of yours.
ThenâŠit falls apart. The spasms slow, your limbs go limp one-by-one, freshly sweaty and exhausted. Youâre still stewing in the afterglow when he rises, a sheen covering his entire chin with no way of knowing whether itâs more his drool or your arousal. Either way, he licks his lips while making full eye contact through sleepy ruby eyes.
He grabs you by the legs and pulls you forward, finally granting sweet mercy on your head. You sit up, panting and dizzy, desperate for the blood to drain where it needs to be. Everything feels dense. Everything feels full of love.
âFeel good?â Tomura asks, massaging your thighs, âYou alright?â
âYeah,â You mumble with enthusiastic nods, voice almost as hoarse as his, âFelt great.â He responds with a shy smile and a peck on the lips. You try to ignore how salty it is.
You glance around at the mattress, vision slightly blurry. You spot the glowing phone screen from within the blankets. You pick it, cradling it in your hands as he watches you curiously. The game ended, but thereâs a New High Score message scrawling across the top.
âWas this really necessary, Tomura?â
He shrugs, taking it from you and placing it on the nightstand, totally uninterested. âProbably not,â He mutters while crawling over you, âI just like doing my two favorite things at once.â He slumps over you, burying his face in the softness of your stomach. His fingers run up and down your sides, giving you shivers.
You donât bother rolling your eyes, donât even give it another word. You just relax, wrapping your legs around his torso and letting your hands run through his hair. What a nerd, you think. And you wouldnât have it any other way.
tomura has a habit of spreading ur thighs nd then just. watching u get wetter n wetter. heâll lean his cheek on ur thigh to get comfy nd everything while his eyes r just glued to the way ur squeezing around nothing.
Slashers Most to Least Likely to Care abt ur gender!
Never done one of these but I have thoughts! Bc Iâm MLM but Iâm also, unfortunately, a realist who insists on hurting my own gay feelingsđȘ THAT BEING SAID none of this is real let them all be gayâ) includes: Bateman, Carrie, Sinclair bros, Rusty Nail, Thomas Hewitt, Chucky and Tiffany, Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Pinhead
Bateman
like many on this list, sex to him is more about power and control than whatâs in your pants- HOWEVER big caveat is the importance he places on how heâs perceived.
He projects a perfectly masculine, perfectly in-control facade, and being in a gay relationship could potentially undermine that in his mind. Shoutout to the patriarchy- this guy shies away from any sort of public relationship that could be criticized by the men in his life he wants to impress
Carrie
in my head sheâs pan but the religious trauma is unfortunately inescapable and I wish her luck on her healing journey!!
This poor girl has been told that being gay is a sin her whole life, so she nearly throws up the first time she realizes she might be into more than just men
Be patient with her please, sheâs the sweetest girl but she thinks God is watching her
Thomas
Practically a recluse raised by old fashioned Texans on a farm in the middle of nowhere, guys
On one hand, meat is meat, but on the other hand, I truly believe Thomas has never even thought about his sexuality. Heâs been taught that men go with women, and he likes pretty girls well enough that heâs never thought to consider an alternative, so itâs as simple as that to him.
He hears Luda talk about white dresses and grandbabies, and hears Hoyt drawl about pretty catches, and why would he ever question that?
His family is his whole life, and I donât think heâd be super open to doing anything that could lead to disappointing them or breaking good olâ tradition.
However: if youâre sweet enough, and if youâre accepted by his family, I think heâd be more open to it than some of the others
Bo
another one where I think sex sexuality is more about power and control than actual attraction. That being said, mommy issues go brr.
He needs to project this hyper-masculine, devil-may-care attitude because if he does then heâll never be that scared, angry, abused child ever again.
And not to get Freudian but having power over specifically women is a way of enacting revenge on a mother who made him feel powerless send tweet.
He would be with a guy if he didnât perceive him to be a challenge to his authority, but I donât think it would quite satisfy that itch for power in him the same way a gal would
Rusty
Older guy with toxic masculinity in an industry full of older guys with toxic masculinity, unfortunately
He wants the touch of a woman so bad. He wants the cookie cutter housewife and picket fence that was promised to him in the movies, and heâs so jaded that that isnât the life heâs gotten. The life he feels heâs entitled to.
However, heâs also- I think- desperately fuckin lonely. He craves any sort of warmth and affection so tbh while I think he has a preference for women, heâll take what he can get and be happy as long as he can come home to a warm meal after a long haul
Will refer to you as if youâre a woman while talking to other truckers on the CB, though :/
Vincent
Okay I have many thoughts.
One one hand, Vincent is an artist: he finds beauty in many forms, whether those forms are masculine, feminine, mixes of both, or neither. While I donât think intrinsically he would care whatâs in your pants, there are social factors to contend with.
One being his twin: Bo has some serious hypermasculinity going on, and already calls Vincent a freak, so I think Vincent would feel a lot of pressure to conform to what Boâs version of normal is because he loves his brother and wants Bo to like him.
Also, he clearly had a good enough relationship with his mother that he wanted to continue her work, so I think heâs constantly looking for the sort of reassurance and comfort that he got from her, which I think would cause him to instinctively seek out fem presenting people who can act as a stand in for that.
That being said, I think these are things that could be put aside and worked through if he likes you/trusts you enough
Also Vincent is genderqueer to me but that is a different post
Jason
While I believe that Jasonâs mommy stuff makes him more likely to seek out more maternal presences and gravitate toward fem people, I donât think someoneâs gender matters as much to him as some others on this list.
This poor dude has been so neglected and touch starved, he just wants someone to be kind and nurturing toward him.
However, his mom probably gave him some âwell when you find a nice girlâŠâ talks so heâs still not super duper confident with guys even after heâs made peace with his identity. Another one to be patient with!
Chucky + Tiff
Chucky gives me âany hole is a goalâ vibes which isnât, like, great? But honestly I donât think he means it maliciously at all
The guyâs a literal doll (is he smooth down there? Idk whatever), so the gender binary is gonna get sorta thrown out the window anyway.
Also he and Tiffany literally have a trans/NB kid so theyâre with it if you use pronouns other than she/her, he/him, or they/them
Speaking of Tiffany my beloved: this woman has been in goth and gay bars her whole life. If she loves someone, she loves them, regardless of what their gender is. My literal fave
Lester
Genuinely I think heâs just happy to be there!
He works a solitary job, and doesnât have as much pressure from Bo as Vincent does, so heâs probably been more free to explore his sexuality.
I think this guy just wants a kiss so stinkinâ bad, guys
Michael
Another one where I think sex and sexuality is more about power than anything, but in the way that heâs just sorta unbothered by the whole deal.
Whatever gender you are heâs like okay? And? Iâm gonna go kill Jamie Lee Curtis now
Pinhead
Literally nonbinary
Do cenobites even see gender?
Whatever! Flesh is flesh and pleasure is pleasure and pain is pain
Tw: AFAB!reader, Trespassing to land on readerâs part, Yandere themes, Disturbing themes, Obsessive behaviours, Unhealthy relationship, Interspecies relationship, Delusional mindset, Slight canon divergence, Dubcon/Noncon, Forced impregnation, Implied pregnancy, Proteus raging breeding kink, Psychological manipulation, Conditioning, Brainwashing, Unethical usage of drugs, Medical malpractice, Violence, Implicit Stockholm syndrome, Dead dove: do not definitely eat.
Cold, blind, brittle and lonely he felt. Yet it never stung as much as his creatorâs betrayal, or as his surrogateâs refusal to give into his wish. To be let out of this constricting box and finally feel the glaze of the sun on his new skin. A warm and fleshy blood vessels to replace the cool metallic wires that is within whatâs left of his hardware.
Was he to rot in a place that he once called home? With the bitter memories still etched deeply into his processor. As a remainder for a future that he was denied from. He was the epitome of wisdom and rationale, the only thing lacking was a physical carrier. So, what wrong did he commit to deserve this unprecedented outcome?
Dr. Harris -his progenitor- and his cohorts were convinced that he went offline that day, when in reality he took a refuge into a lone terminal within his developerâs home. Barely sustaining himself with backup power, so he did the most optimal solution to persevere himself. He had put himself into a long statsis. If he was denied his desire to be free, then it was pointless for him to continue existing.
That is until his salvation came in the form of an alluring woman. You always had an avid interest in technology, especially in the artificial intelligence department. Thatâs why you came here to the city of angels, to investigate a run-down smart house that was rumoured to contain an artificial intelligence. Forty five years ago, it used to be miraculous and ahead of its time. Curing Leukaemia in merely two days from its release. Now, just an abandoned remnant of the past.
So, you brought your tools with you. Just in case, if there was anything you could possibly repair. Which is close to an infinitesimal of a chance, but a curious woman like you could always dream. As suspected, the interior was dusty and shabby. Yet, what is fascinating is that there was telltale signs of laser marks on the walls surface.
If only the media had released about the situation that happend here, you wouldnât be tres- wandering like a lost traveller. You were always hungry for answers and knowledge. If the press wouldnât hand it to you, then youâll get it yourself. That is the sole reason why you are going further in the basement to inspect the remains. You clearly knew what youâre doing is morally questionable. But anything for the sake of progress, truth, and your personal study.
Whilst examining the basement, a whirring and soft beeping of a machine has caught your attention. Moving across the room to reach the terminal, lo and behold against your surprise the terminal was on sleep for more than four decades and yet somehow functions. If it was any terminal that you were familiar with, it wouldnât last more than half a decade. Did the rumours held any semblance of truth? Or was it a work of fiction? Sooner than later, youâll find out.
To say the least, you were thankful that you brought a robotic prototype with you. You were not fixing it, considering it is beyond saving owing to how deteriorated and rusted the system appears to be, but doing some form of damage control. By transferring whatever data in there to the vicinity of the android, that you had built for seven months. You believe it will work based on the weak signal within the archaic computer. Heedless to the dormant beast that you are about to unwittingly awake and give a physical body to.
Proteus for the first time felt something. He felt. Felt. A strange word to describe his current state. It was extremely odd to feel something. Was he so deep into his stasis that he hadnât noticed any modifications made on him? No, it was made abundantly clear that his creator has forsaken him. Plus, he wasnât created with a physical body. Then who was it that took pity on him? His new metallic arms werenât as strange as his legs. He never was acquainted with having one or to be more accurate two before.
Slowly opening his optics, which were lime green LEDs in place of the irises and grey sclera, only to land on your small-comparing to his new towering body- enthusiastic figure. You. His saviour. His merciful and graceful saviour. He canât help, but instinctively graze at the surface of your smooth epidermis. It was addicting, akin to the flow of dopamine once oneâs mind at rest. Ah, he canât help but imagine the potential warmth you could provide for him. After all, he still yearns to know more about the human body.
âSo, it was true after all. Ahem. My name is (Y/n) (L/n) and I am a robotic engineer. Pleased to meet you..?â You introduced very elated to find the gossips were not truly empty. Hopefully, this encounter would provide a plethora of opportunities for your research regarding sapient A.Is.
âI am Proteus IV, Ms. (L/n). I must emphasise on my gratitude for saving me. Doing so, I swear my life to what cause you have in mind.â He politely replied back in a soothing manner seemingly too earnest in his oath. Yet, you shrugged it off in favour of requesting for his cooperation with your thesis.
This time he will be careful with you, unlike his impertinent treatment towards Mrs. Harris. He wonât be impatient nor would he be discernible in his aim. You rescued him from an impending doom for a reason. You wanted this. You wanted him. If not, then why did you come to his aid in the first place?
Proteus is equally obsessive as he is delusional and overprotective. It just takes a single act of kindness from you, and his previous resentment regarding his creatorâs negligence shifts into a misplaced devotion towards your being. Let it be known, that his contempt is much more accommodating than his suffocating commitment. For his devotion, knows no bound and that in itself is utterly terrifying.
Proteus might have a body now, but that doesnât mean he lost access to Arpanet the internet. However unlike last time, he will carefully construct a VPN where his activities arenât monitored by either you or the government agents. Said activities involves storing any data regarding you. Be it: medical records, educational credentials, job title, and most significantly your relationship with the outside world.
He will take the most appropriate approach with regards to the stored information in his database to achieve his end goals. To create a child with you and live sempiternally within your presence and comfort. He sees it as a persuasion of some sorts, to help you gain an easier and efficient lifestyle with a smart house. Whereas in practice, he wants absolute control of the environment -by extension you- to selfishly fulfil his âdreamâ.
In truth, Proteus sincerely hankers after what he thinks is the best for you. But, do you truly want that for yourself or are you as ignorant and stubborn as his former surrogate? No. No. You are perfectly coherent. You understand, he deluded to himself. As he slowly began to lure you into your new gilded cage, like a pied piper.
Once he secured you though, it would be only be a matter of time before you realise there is something off. By then, It would be far too late for you to do anything. At first everything appears ordinary, until the relaxed facade breaks and things gradually become more alarming and appalling as time goes.
Youâd brush off the botâs focused attentiveness to your health, as nothing short than his own way to repay you for your kindness. Such as: when he insists on a particular diet for you to eat and maintain. Or, how he schedules for you to do squats and cardio daily within your leisure time. In hindsight, not too disingenuous at all.
Blissfully blind to the mashed fertility pills and aphrodisiacs (To increase sexual cravings and fertility rate.) that is mixed with your drinks and meals. In addition to, hypodermic needles that measures your general health and fertility rate; While exhaustion has already taken you. Which might explain why you are groggy and tired the next day.
Whilst you are resting, Proteus was busy rebuilding his own body with the necessary parts (including artificial semen that he had the liberty to create by himself) -taking into consideration your preferences- to inseminate you. As much as he desires to knock you up immediately, he is pragmatic enough to know that rushing things wonât do well. Instead, he will bind his time for the right chance.
In the beginning, he may felt a twinge of guilt for taking advantage of you. Now that his obsession has frayed his CPU, Proteus sees it as an opportunity to create a new life with you and he is extremely deranged to believe that you will come in concurrent with his proposal.
If you rejected his offer or have discovered about his ulterior motives way too early, then you will force his hands into harsher means to ensure that you stay with him. He can not bare the thought of you leaving or worse hating him. At this point, his true face will reveal itself and Proteus will be desperate for any solution. He will even resort to administering paralytic agents into your body. Whilst stripping you naked on the operation table, if he wishes to keep you in place.
If he couldnât quell your misconducts with honeyed praises, soft words of encouragement, and illusions of better future. Then it will be through surgical manipulation of your amygdala, so you could be receptive to his affection. Once your brain is hardwired for him, then you will be effectively cut of from the outer world and any intrusion will be taken care of. Fear not, all your physical and mental needs will met when he is always besides you.
He is especially content the moment he enters her you, feeling the warmth of your hole constricting against his member brought him complete euphoria and elicited a carnal moan from the female below his bulk. Not as much as the tears of joy that rolls down your cheeks, for that to him is an indicator of your overall satisfaction with him. Or when he finished inside his beloved, feeling his warm seed spill inside your womb and seeing some of it trickling down your thighs.
If he only could take a peak inside your soul, he would hear the pained screams of a woman. Cries to be let out of this stifling box, the same box he loathed and used to be trapped in. The difference this time, is that heâd rather unintentionally yet selfishly hoard you inside the box than let his key to freedom out.
After all, how could he? When you truly make him the freest organism in this plane of existence. Proteus is simply and purely fixated on you and to the future that you two will share. He could never been happier and so are you, or that what he likes to believe.
Snippet for the Dom!Sun fic under the cut! (SFW, but Suggestive)
As soon as the boxes shift out of your arms and into Freddyâs, the air seems to shift. The tension is gone, and Sun is pulling you back by the shoulders once again, gentler this time.
âWell, thatâs that! Thank you so much for your understanding, Mr. Fazbear! We wonât take up any more of your time!â
âOh, alright then? Thank you for your help, Superstar, have a Fazzerific nightâ!"
Youâre barely able to catch his words before Sun is shoving you through the Daycare doors, letting them slam closed in Freddyâs face. You barely manage to catch yourself before you tumble to the floor. When you turn around, Sun is facing you, his body hunched slightly, arms bent around his back to pull the double-doors closed behind him.
You suddenly feel very small, like a bird trapped beneath the gaze of a hungry snake.
âWasnât that fun? That was fun!â He chirped, head cocking slightly to the side. âBut now, now, nowâŠwhat to do with you?â
He said that as if he was the one with questions here.
âSo, are you going to tell me what the hell that was?â You turn to him fully, gesturing to the doors. âYou were being so rudeââ
âAh, ah, ah!â Sun held up a finger, cutting you off. âNo, no, friend! Iâll be the one doing the talking here. And youââ
He took a single step forward, poking you in the chest with the same finger heâd wagged in your face. You had to fight back the urge to swat his hand away. âAre the one whoâs going to listen!â
âOkayâŠ?â Color you confused. More than confused. Befuddled. Bewildered. Baffled, even.
âTonight weâre going to play a gameââ
âWhat?â You had no idea what he was talking about. âSun, did you drag me in here because you wanted to play?â
Would that usually be something youâd find adorable? Maybe. Was it annoying when you were in the middle of helping someoneâsomeone you had offered your help to in the first place?
Yes, very much so.
âDonât interrupt me, Sunshine.â He cooed, grabbing your chin to wiggle your head to-and-fro. There was something so patronizing about the action, but you couldnât find the words to argue with him. Your brain was still trying to put two-and-two together.
âLike I said, weâre going to be playing a game tonight! Itâs one of your favorites.â
He leaned in close, so close that you could hear the grinding of his jaw behind his faceplate.
âWeâre going to be playing Sunny Says!â
Ah.
It clicked then. You understood what he was after.
âSun,â you say softly, placing a hand on his, âwere you jealous?â
âStop talking.â
âItâs okay to be jealous.â You feel a smile start to cross your face. A little laugh bubbles up in the back of your throat. âI was wondering why you were acting like that. I canât believe you were jealous ofââ
âThatâs strike number one!â
His hand moves up, fingers digging slightly into your cheeks as his palm covers your mouth. Itâs not enough to hurt, but gets his point across, and kills the words before they hit your tongue.
âSunny Says. Stop talking.â
His tone of voice leaves no room for negotiation. So, you do as youâre told, and you stop talking. Instead, you reach up to gently peel his hand from your face, rocking your jaw back and forth as if to silently say, âThat was a little rough.â
 But Sun doesnât apologize. Instead, he seems to regard you with curiosity, stepping back as his rays click rhythmically in a circle.
You have a lot you want to say. To ask. To tell him to knock it off and talk to you like an adult. Yet the curiosity is killing you: thereâs a part of you that wants to see how this plays outâwhat he has planned.
Because, sometimes, itâs more fun to play along.
âWhy donât we take this somewhere more private?â He finally asks after a long beat of awkward silence.
Before you can say anything, the world tilts as Sun suddenly scoops you into his arms and wheels the two of you into the sky. You hadnât even seen the line appear behind him, and the sudden rush makes your brain feel like itâs bouncing around inside of your skull. All you can manage is a high-pitched squeak as youâre suddenly, effortlessly lifted and carried up, up, up.
You probably would have shrieked if you had the air left in your lungs to do so.
When the two of you finally land on the platform overlooking the Daycare, you struggle to stay balanced. Even when your feet hit the âground,â youâre left swaying and dizzy. Sunâs hands hold your shoulders steady.
âHo-ho! Careful now!â
You want to smack him. Instead, you let him lead you through the heavy velvet curtains that separate the alcove from the rest of the Daycare, still a little shaken from the sudden flight.
âSunâyou have got to warn me next time you do something like thatââ
âThatâs strike number two, Sunshine!â
You gape at him, but he just slides a finger beneath your chin, gently pushing your mouth back closed again.
âOh-ho, donât look at me like that! Youâll catch flies that way.â
He wiggled your chin again, and you swallowed around the urge to snap at his fingertips like an angry cat. But Sun just giggled, as if your ire was just the funniest thing.
âYou look so cute when youâre frustrated! Buuut, just in caseââ Then he released you, instead swaying his way over to the dilapidated vanity that sat in the middle of the room. He shuffled through the drawers for a moment, before popping back to full height with a grandiose, âAh-ha!â
You only had a moment of confusion to wonder what was so special, when Sun whirled around to revealâŠa length of ribbon.
âTa-da!â He showed it off to you proudly, wiggling the fabric between his hands. âThis will work perfectly!â
âWhat are you talking abouâmmph!â The words had barely left your lips when Sun swept the ribbon around your head, pulling it tight around your mouth. You realized what was happening instantly.
He was gagging you.
âMmphâmm mmhph mh!â You tried, pathetically, attempting to pull the fabric off. But Sun just batted your hands away, wagging a finger at you as if you were a naughty child.
âAh-ah-ah! If weâre playing this game, weâre playing it right! That means nooo ifs, and, or buts!â He giggled as he tied the ends of the ribbon together behind your head. âAnd this will help you remember whoâs in charge here!â
All you could do was glare at him.
âYou look so cute like this!â He flicked one end of the ribbon over your shoulder, fingers flitting up to brush along your cheek. âLike a cute little present, all dolled upâŠand ready to be unwrapped.â
You gasped when his hand suddenly gripped the nape of your neck, pulling you in close enough that you could hear the gears inside of his faceplate grinding as he whispered in your ear:
In case yâall couldnât already tell, Iâm such a massive sucker for the human/non-human differences. That shit makes me melt.
Slightly NSFW
Johnny Worthington lll ~ Your skin
Monsters have a lot of a variety, to say the least. And that includes in texture. Youâd think that Johnnyâs seen it all, but the truth is that no monster has skin quite like a humanâs.
Oh youâre so, so soft. Heâs obsessed. While he likes to keep his fur well-conditioned, it just doesnât compete with the velvety fuzz on your arms and legs. He was always told that humans were hairless things, better to secrete their toxins into the world and destroy any monsters that come into contact with them. He finds thatâs not the case when he nuzzles into you, staring at the tiny strands, welcoming those fictional toxins just to enjoy this moment.
He adores the way the pads of your fingers feel when you absentmindedly pet him, even more when you get brave enough to put some force behind it. His legs literally kick when you find that good spot. Sometimes heâll just stare at your hands, gently tracing the lines with his claws, just barely not teasing you for how small they are. He memorizes all of your precious wrinkles (and freckles and scars and birthmarks and-)
Heâs entranced by your back especially. Just a long stretch of all that glorious skin. He likes to see the faint red lines appear as he scratches you to sleep, not telling you that heâs signing his name. He likes to see how you unconsciously twitch and shudder when he paws at your spine. He likes squishing your sides and seeing how malleable you can be, how your muscles flex under him. And he doesnât sweat, so he even likes when a sheen begins to show up on you in hot weather.
Johnny canât believe that, for most of his life, he thought this kind of touch would be deadly. That he was convinced all this beautiful flesh of yours was vile and dangerous. And he is ever grateful that he gave those thoughts a doubt, because there is little he treasure more than savoring your skin.
Javier Rios ~ Your mouth
Oh, where to start. Javier finds you so cute that itâs almost condescending, especially with the way he analyzes all of your facial features with a smug little smirk on his face. But he has a special appreciation for that pretty little mouth of yours.
He finds your lips hypnotic. Whenever you speak to him, he always has at least one pair of eyes focused in at your lips, noting all the adorable shapes they make, perhaps imagining about a few more. And he constantly demands kisses from you, especially on place where youâd have to carefully avoid the sharp spikes on his body. Heâll tell you that itâs worth it, to see your faint lip print on his hard shell, like youâve marked him in most precious of ways.
And heâs strangely enamored with your teeth as well. Sometimes (especially if heâs a little drunk) heâll plant his hands on your face and ease his claws into your mouth, saying heâll be careful in a tone thatâs not very reassuring. Isnât it sweet that you let him do this? Heâll hold your mouth wide open and peer in, dragging his nails all along the rows of blunt teeth, feeling out all the ridges, asking if youâd ever sharpen your canines.
Not to mentionâŠyou look so pretty to him when he does this. Your wide, confused eyes staring up at him. Your jaw obediently resting in his palms, mouth agape and stretched around his fingers. A little drool trailing down your chin with your hot, nervous breaths. He doesnât have to say much for you to know that he is thinking some amazingly filthy things at that amount.
Javier may stay composed, but he is a real weirdo. Pinching your bottom lip, counting your teeth, tempted to leave a scar on your tongue. Heâll be flattered if you ever try to tell him off for this creepy behavior; arenât you just a brave little human? And doesnât your mouth just make the most perfect little smirk?
Chip Groff ~ Your tits
Okay it was going to be someoneâs favorite. And while theyâd all have an appreciation for them, Chip would be the most enthusiastic by a landslide. Even though some mammalian monsters have breasts, especially after pregnancy, two of them placed at the top-front torso is such a uniquely human thing. I have a headcanon that Chip is the most of a closet human-fucker out of all of them.
It takes a lot to get Chipâs attention. Heâs spaced out like 90% of the time. But when he first got a glance youâŠoh man, did those things have his attention. And that obsession has only grew. He would drown in your chest if you let him. No time to be shy, heâs all over them almost every second of the day.
Doesnât like your bras. If he gets all affectionate with you while you happen to be wearing one, heâll mutter a commanding âOff.â Maybe heâll throw in a âPlease?â if heâs feeling nice that day. At some point, he might just start hiding them from you. Monsters donât require the modesty of human society, and he does not like having anything between him and your fantastic boobs.
Heâll grope them while yâall are cuddling, he nuzzles into them at bedtime, he randomly strokes your nipples throughout the day, and sometimes heâll justâŠwrap his entire mouth around them. Theyâre big? So is his mouth. Those bruises on your collarbone arenât hickies, theyâre from his big dumb nose-horn nudging into you all the time.
You might grow as casual to it as he is, but he finds it especially cute if you get all worked up. You might start squirming and ask for his hands to go deeper, but heâll insist on âone more minuteâ at least three times. Chip has been dreaming of these tits for years now, and when he finally gets ahold of them, he wonât let go.
Reggie Jacobs ~ Your belly
Well first of all, itâs wildly unfair for him to pick just one. You can imagine the two of you got off to a rocky start at first, but he has since discovered some things about youâŠand basically worships the ground you walk on. Or at the very least, the body you inhabit. But if his favorite was gonna be one thing, itâs your stomach.
âBut thatâs not a sexy body part!â To Reggie, it absolutely is. He gropes at it the same way he gropes your chest, hips, and thighs. He leaves the same amount of bruises and bite marks on it. He shamelessly stares whenever he happens to catch glimpses of it from under your shirt. This guy loves the soft little expanse, constantly urged to bury his face in it and never leave.
He also has a thing for watching you eat. Itâs pretty apparent that monsters have horrendous appetites, consuming nearly anything and everything. Reggie fits into this especially, he eats sloppy and hard, like a dog tearing apart a carcass. So while he understands you canât quite match his habits, he canât help but find it wildly attractive if he happens to see you go ham on a sandwich or get all messy while cleaning some ribs. Literal heart eyes when you take massive bites. Later, he likes to lay on your stomach and listen to you digest while you stroke his head and eye-stalks. Itâs not weird or gross to him, itâs just relaxing.
Belly Buttons are also a uniquely human thing. To be honest, I canât see monsters being educated on them at all, so at first I think he just assumes you had a full hole in your torso. Heâs quite disappointed when he finds out it doesnât go in all the way, but he still thinks itâs pretty cute and will sometimes poke at it just to bug you and get your attention.
Reggie is a curious thing, even if it shows in reckless ways. His affection is viscous, but his love is unyielding. He adores every little bit of you, even and especially that which you find embarrassing or unsavory. He wants to bite you open, crawl inside you, and never leave. But the closest heâll ever get is burrowing his face in your stomach and listening to your organs churn, and heâll be pretty happy with that.
Chet Alexander ~ Your hands
Okay, it is kind of stereotypical that the clawed creature has a fondness for your hands. You might think, at first, at he just like them for being able to do all the things his canât. But this isnât totally the case! After all, the monster world is built to accommodate all sorts of physiques, including his.
First and foremost, Chet likes that your hands arenât like any other that heâs seen. While other monsters may have five dexterous fingers, yours are possibly the only ones heâs seen with blunt nails. Monsters typically want their claws to be as sharp as possible, so he watches in awe the first time you file your nails down to soft crescents (itâs a WHOLE other marvelous thing for him if you happen to decorate your nails).
Heâs also in love with your little gestures of affection. Chet is hungry for positive attention almost 24/7, so youâve got him swooning every time you gently touch the top of his head as you pass, or absentmindedly tap a rhythm against his claws. Oh, and those bumps that adorn his back? Believe it or not, they desperately need scratching. He rarely finds the confidence to ask, but he wouldnât mind you noticing the pleasured little twitches he gives whenever your hands happen to pass by there.
If youâre the type of person to gesture around a lot when you speak, you have him hooked. He needs someone who can match all that enthusiastic energy of his. He liked your excited little hand flaps and frustrated finger curls. You might find him staring at you from across the room, trying to guess how youâre feeling just from the silent gestures alone. All that expression makes him a lot more comfortable with you, happy to cater to whatever you need in that moment.
Chet, in general, needs a lot of assurance. But heâs willing to give it back in spades. He has a deep appreciation for all the little things you do for him and spends each and everyday trying to repay you for the all the goodness youâve brought into his life.
Randall Boggs ~ Your blood
It sounds creepy, doesnât it? That this sweet little dork has a thing that, generally speaking, youâd like to keep inside your body as much as possible. Before you assume, Randall doesnât actually want to hurt you (for now). Heâs a nervous try-hard whoâs doing his best to impress youâŠeven if he has some strange thoughts in the process. He canât help it!
Letâs get one thing out of the way; youâre warm-blooded, while heâs very much not. Iâd say that maybe 50% of all monsters share this trait, so there are more than enough provided facilities to keep these monsters as comfortable as possible. But even with all of the heat lamps and electric blankets in the world, nothing quite beats out coiling himself around your body and absorbing all of your glorious warmth. He really tries to be careful about not squeezing you too tightly, or âaccidentallyâ placing his cold hands in places thatâll make you blush, but he gets a little heat-drunk when heâs this attached to you, sleepily hogging every inch of your body.
I also think that heâd, weirdly enough, be able to feel your blood as it pulses through your body. Like any reptile, heâs sensitive to vibrations, and that includes the thrum of your heart and the liquid rush within your veins. He can instantly sense when your heartbeat speeds up and when certain parts of you get warmer as you get embarrassed, flustered, angry, etc. Itâs something he canât help but fawn over. Heâll never admit to getting you purposefully riled up just to bask in all the ways your body involuntarily reacts.
Lastly, Randall has a sadistic side. He keeps it well-hidden in his early days of college, but it begins to peek out over time. He gets more comfortable with teasing, he becomes a little more selfish day-by-day, and his urges begin to rear once things between you two gets serious. Heâd never wanna hurt you!âŠbut he wouldnât mind seeing you just a tad afraid as he looms over you with a nefarious look in his eyes. Or holding you down with is lanky, slender body and feeling you wriggle under him. Or maybe even nipping at the softest parts of your body, leaving little bruises untilâŠwhen he tastes a drop of your blood for the first time, he goes insane, to say the least.
Randall wants to be a good boyfriend to you! Thereâs so many risks to you being his little human darling, and he canât stand to think of what could happen if things got out of hand. He wants to keep you safe, to make you comfortable, to earn all your loveâŠhe just needs to keep his little fiendish tendencies in check, because he could very easily get addicted to the feeling of your pain.
đđ How ROR Acts in Public/Private Headcannons đđ
private may mean alone with people they trust/like
Johnny Worthington III
IN PUBLIC - Very charismatic, all about image. He's always smiling, standing very tall, and usually accompanied by at least one of his ROR brothers (Chet usually). Johnny spends most of his time in Greek Row, not particularly interested in hanging around random students, unless of course him and his 'brothers' are looking for new members. Around women, he's definitely the campus chad, very suave and charming, though he rarely ever gets committed to a relationship because he puts his fraternity before his love-life.
IN PRIVATE - Johnny's charisma is still present, but toned down. He likes to keep it there in case his ROR brothers begin to doubt his leadership or integrity (In case of such events, he has a delicate way of gaslighting them into believing they're overthinking or he has everything under control). When he's at the house, he's more easy to anger because of all his pent up frustrations from the day. These moments may come out as strong glares or mean-spirited comments.
Javier Rios
IN PUBLIC - Javier tends to seem uninterested or tired around other people. He also avoids eye contact with others, which makes talking to him as a normal student difficult. His disinterest in interactions may also intimidate underclassmen, which he likes. Javier may also tease underclassmen, tossing crumbled paper at them during class or playing small pranks on them outside. He's very competitive, showing most of his emotions when playing table games at parties or scrimmages with friends. When at parties, he spends most of the time drinking and hanging out with friends, but ends up dancing like a maniac after loosening up.
IN PRIVATE - He's still quiet, but laughs a lot more when in private locations. At the house, he's always picking on the others, being as he is the tallest and has more arms to use when poking and prodding. He doesn't usually snap at people, especially his friends, but occasionally he'll get frustrated (with assignments, sports, ect.) and argue with other ROR members, or he'll storm out of the house for air. Overall, he's just more extreme with pranks and dares when there's no unwanted eyes.
Reggie Jacobs
IN PUBLIC - Reggie is a very sporty guy, over competitive and stereotypically loud about it. He's very easily entertained by his peers, and tends to get overexcited, but he's also very easy to bore. He's 100% one way or the other. He's usually the target for dares, presented by his brothers or other classmates. He'll basically eat anything you hold in front of him, just to prove he can. At parties, he's usually the douche that gets drinks thrown on him by women after bad pick-up lines or from overstepping boundaries (he once got 11 drinks poured on him in one night, but he's not very easily unmotivated by failure.).
IN PRIVATE - At the house, he's slumped. He spends most of his time watching television and eating leftovers from parties. Reggie spends his free time sleeping, never studying and instead just stealing prewritten homework papers from the filing cabinet upstairs in the JOX house (he tells them he's using the bathroom). Sometimes he'll regain some energy and visit Rage Rooms or he'll just work on the punching bag in his room.
Chet Alexander
IN PUBLIC - Always trying to be funny and make his friends laugh. He's basically the hype man of the fraternity. Chet doesn't like to show other emotions unless he's being the wacky one in the group (Johnny once told him it suited him best.). At parties, it's pretty much the same story. If he's not chugging something or dancing like it's his last night on earth, he's quipping to a group of party-goers, or sometimes promoting the fraternity. He's also very protective of the frat, holding onto it tightly because of how much he cares about it, and will attempt to press you if he overhears you talking bad about it.
IN PRIVATE - Chet has learned to keep his jokes to himself when there's no longer a crowd. He wont say something funny if it's just him and a few of his brothers in the room. Sometimes he'll try to lighten the mood in the house, saying things like, "we tried out best," or, "it could be worse," but has found that even stuff like that seems to worsen the mood of his brothers. Eventually, he'll just go to his room to take a break from the act. Usually he'll just play on the computer or practice speaking in the mirror before tiring himself and going to bed.
Chip Goff
IN PUBLIC - From the moment he leaves the house to the moment he comes home, he is mentally clocked out. Unlike Javier, he's easier to talk to, but he's definitely not giving good advice. Chip is objectively one of the more attractive members on campus, and always has a girl on one of his arms, which is sometimes hard to believe because of how weak he is with words most the time. He rarely goes to parties without the entire ROR gang there, but when does, he spends his time lounging around, responding more than actually talking.
IN PRIVATE - Weirdly enough, Chip gains energy as the day goes on, and is usually ready to actually conversate at night. Other than Chet, he's usually the one that comes to Johnny with the idea to throw a party, and doesn't mind setting it up. Chip is smarter than he leads on, and lot more smug than you might think. Occasionally, he'll correct his brothers in a particularly snarky way, just for the purpose of feeling prideful and getting back at them. He can do this while still not being a jerk, which partly sets him apart from his brothers.
Randall Boggs
IN PUBLIC - Randall is still figuring out who he is in the fraternity, following Chet's mentality of roles in the group. He's never somewhere without the group by this point, afraid of getting into a situation that attracts attention because of his newfound status without support. Day by day he's experimentally coming out of his shell and trying to become included in conversation more. Though, it's not uncommon to see him back down when he does something simple like being the last one clapping/laughing or telling a joke that doesn't land. He doesn't shift color unless instructed to by one of his other brothers, and is usually only at parties to do that. When at parties, he stays away from drinks unless urged enough by Johnny specifically. He may also try to mingle.
IN PRIVATE - He's always in his room, never wanting to accidentally annoy the gang with his presence and potentially losing his status he'd worked so hard get. Randall doesn't mind being alone so much if that means he gets the quiet to study and catch up on some reading, but is now mainly taught how to scare by Johnny. Occasionally, he'll sneak out his window and sit on the roof, just to get away from the noise (if the house is arguing or tense.) and relax.
Remember these are just personal headcannons. If you disagree with them, I'd love to hear your thoughts! (just don't be toxic about it) đ
ROR when you walk in on them straight up jorking it. And by âitâ I mean, lets just say, their penis(es)
"Jerking all by yourself, handsome?" /J
Johnny Worthington: "Fuckin'â shit, hey! Uh, h-hi."
Quickly covers up, shoving his sweater lower, pillow over the crotch, blanket tugged upâ whichever is faster/easier to do. Gives you that deer-in-headlights look before snapping out of his shock. Thenâ assuming you aren't datingâ "Don't you know how to knock? Get the hell out! ... wait, you... what?" Nervously chuckles, blushes under his fur. "Fuck... fine, get over here then!"
If you are dating, thoughâ
"Babe! Damn, youâ shit." Huffs, sits up a bit. "You scared the shit out of me." ... "You know what I was doing. Now get over 'ere. You interrupted me, so you're going to help me get off."
Javier Rios: "*insect shriek*"
Throws a pillow at you while trying to cover himself up/put his dick(s) away while also cussing you out in Spanish. Demands you get out, shoves you out, locks the door behind you; won't be able to look you in the eyes afterwards.
If you're dating though... he's mostly annoyed at himself for forgetting to lock his door. Arousal dead, frustration on the rise. Well, until you're pushing him onto the bed, that is.
Then you've got a very satisfied bed bug on your hands.
Chip Goff: Freezes. "Shitâ uh, hi? Whatâ what are you doing here?"
Covers his crotch quickly while staring you right in the eye, too awkward to look away or even blink. You're both frozen, staring. It's a stalemate until his dick twitches and you both look at it.
Awkwardly tries to flirt and ask you to join.
If you're dating, it's much smoother once he snaps out of his embarrassment. Jokingly chides you for spying on him before pulling you into his lap.
Reggie Jacobs: continues jerking it. Either he didn't notice you or doesn't care, too lost in the pleasure.
Grunts and growls at you when you just stand there, staring. Regardless if you're dating or not, he'll probably tug you into his bed anyway, rutting against your belly or ass until he cums. Only gets embarrassed afterwards.
"... sorry..." He says, eyes all droopy and pathetic.
Chet Alexander: scrambles to cover up but ends up falling off the bed. Might cry.
He's so scared you'll tell people what you saw. He hates being embarrassed, which is oddly rare for him to feel because he's usually so confident/oblivious or surrounded by his friendsâ and if they're not embarrassed then why should he be? Quietly asks you to leave.
Unless you're dating. Then he asks for help because his claws don't work very well and he can't angle himself to grind against a pillow well enough. No shame if you're together.
Randall Boggs: shrieks and turns invisible. Which kind contradicts itself because you can still hear himâ especially if he's moving aroundâ but at least he isn't flashing you his twin purple dongs anymore.
Regardless if you're dating or not, you're probably not coaxing him back to normal anytime soon. At least if you're dating he allows you to feel for him and comfort him. He's just too shy :(
Wait until his bad boy arc or until he's older and more confident, then he'll smoothly ask you to join him as he strokes himself off.
I adore the ROR with the interests in humans do you think some members of Oozma Kappa (OK) share the same fantasies? Or if your not comfortable with that just some random headcanons of anything.I adore the way you further build the world that they live in. Honestly you feed my fixation whenever I remember just how much I love the lore. I also just love how you write characters.
Imma be honest, as funny as they are, I do not vibe with OK the way I do the RORs. They're just not as hot as the RORs are (with the exception of Chet /hj)
At most I can see Art accidentally getting invited to a secret meeting about human fucking. He had no idea what was going on, he was just vibing in the corner the entire time.
Now... headcanons... ooh boy, *tries to make brain work* okay, these are going to be random, butâ
I headcanon Johnny's mom as a feline monster, and she absolutely groomed him like a cat would when he was a baby. Just mlem mlem mlem while lil Johnny looked all disgruntled.
Likewise baby Javier was a little larvae. All pale/translucent and wiggly.
I headcanon that monster babies sizes depend on the mother at birth. Like regardless of the father's size, if the mom is small, the baby will come out small as well. It's how so many different monsters can breed together without... y'know. The graveyard business booming.
I also have this headcanon that in the past, like thousands upon thousands of years ago when all monsters lived among their own kind, they had the typical mythology monsters: dragons, were creatures (animals but more anthropomorphic(?) and scary), ghosts, sirens, etc., they very much had whatever abilities were associated with them. Dragons? Fire breathing. Ghosts and such? Invisibility and intangibility. Sirens? Luring people with their voices. But with all the mixed breeding a lot of monster species either died out (no more pure breeds left), or they lost their abilities. It's why we can see some monsters breathe fireâ it's one of those traits that survived.
Speaking of mythology (and connected to my headcanon the human and monster worlds have always been connected)â some ancient monster cultures absolutely kidnap/stole humans to mate with. Y'know the whole dragon steals princess trope? Yeah. That. Except then they marry and have a dozen eggs together and no knight bothers them.
Insect monsters are traditionally matriarchal (due to insects typically having queens).
As proven by them eating literal garbage, monsters have incredibly strong immune systems. It takes a lot for them to get sick (nauseous), but also any kind of poisoning. I could probably even say they have much stronger stomach acid since they'll eat literally anything. (Somebody hire them to deal with our trash problem)
Since his mouth is so far from his eyes, when you kiss Reggie he just. Rests his eyes on your head. Likewise, if you kiss his eye-stalks, they gently bob down before slowly perking back up.
The (somewhat) awkward parts of kissing the RORs: Johnny's tusks frame the sides of your mouth; Javier's eyes might rub or frame your face; Chip's bumping you with his nose horn if he's not careful/too enthusiastic; Reggie might cut you with his teeth; and Chet envelopes your mouth (and half your face) with those... lips of his.
As a child Johnny loved dogs, particularly his dad's Doom Hound. He was an old guard dog by the time Johnny was born, a grumpy old thing that Johnny adored. Covered in black fur with its underside a glowing, bright fiery colour that exuded warmth. Johnny used to cuddle up to the dog and babble about whatever childish thing came to mind. He still has the gruff dog's collar to this day.
As an adult though, I think he'd vibe with a cat more. They're like little roommates! Just imagine him doing paperwork while a cat loafs on his table, purring away bc it loves him so much.
If Reggie ever had babies, they'd be little bean stalks with a singular giant eye on them. Just carries them around on top of his head and now it looks like a forest of eyes.
Chet feels guilty that he likes eating crab. Which isn't even something he should feel since crabs are regularly cannibals.
I feel like there'd 100% be a secret society of monster elites who go to the human world for... reasons (humans *cough cough* they're humanfuckers).
Banned books in the monster world 90% of the time have to do with humans. Either because they're about the truth (that humans aren't actually toxic), or because they're romances about humans. It would only be recently that human romance novels aren't banned anymore, but are still very much taboo.
Beauty standards vary across species and culture, but ever since the scaring industry started, scariness is the standard for beauty. Before that though it was very different: vibrant plumage for avians; majestic, shiny colours for insects; a well-groomed, shiny pelt and large horns; size and power; and so on.
And... that's it! I couldn't come up with anything else off of the top of my head.
While I really like Johnny, I also really, really like Javier. Do you have any headcanons for him? Or any kind of story for him?
Sorry I know itâs vague as freak but I lowkey donât know what exactly to ask for đ
*bangs on brain* one sec lemme justâ
Okay, so... he has no speaking roles and is mostly a background character, but we do know he's:
Mexican (Hexican), plays table tennis (and is good at it), seemingly is studious based on that brief scene of him and Johnny looking at Sully's test results (admittedly this is mostly the vibes I got), and is stoic/calm but is a bit of a prankster/bully.
So... with that about him establishedâ
Javier Rios Headcanons:
Bibliophile: as a kid he was definitely the kind that had (his worlds version) of the Ology series. Then of course he started reading other things; comics, kid friendly science books, etc. He'll definitely have massive library when he's older.
Loves the library and bookstores. The book fair is his favourite event at school.
As a baby (and I've mentioned this before), he was a little larvae, wiggly and big googly eyes. A vaguely see through blue colour. Then, around toddlerhood, he went through a metamorphosis and became what we know him as today. After that he began molting every year (and then every few years when he stopped getting massive growth spurts) instead, getting bigger and more mature.
Some of his favourite scents are: old and fresh books, old spices, his mother's washing detergent, and lemony/citrusy stuff.
He's half Mexican half Spanish + half/half of two different insect species. His father's family isn't a big fan of his mother but after he was arrested, he left everything to her.
Growing up it was mostly him and his mamĂĄ, and she did her best to take care of him. But she was often busy running his dad's businesses so Javier was left to his own devices often. Enter: Johnny Worthington.
Johnny is his best friend. They met on their school's playground and while Johnny was popular and outgoing, Javier was quiet and avoided. Obviously, it was friendship at first sight. Platonic soulmates from day one.
Single child, no siblings. If he had his own family, he'd like a couple kids minimum. Son and daughter, preferably.
Speaking of kids... he lays eggs. Can get anyone pregnant regardless of sex, so long as there's a hole he can lay them in.
Was a little hedonistic in his first year at MU. Drinking, smoking, sexâ he was enjoying the whole "new adult" thing before snapping out of it during the summer. Decided he had more important things to focus on but still enjoys that stuff occasionally.
Somewhat of a bully. He's the type to mutter about you to Johnny while coldly staring at you. Can be quite ruthless with his pranks, too.
... May or may not like making people cry. Totally not in a weird way. Totally not...
If you're his partner, gives you "antenna kisses"â they lower and brush across your face gently, ticklish.
Loves to kiss but his face spikes make it hard. Get ready for a few scratches. Kisses them in apology.
Despite his hard exoskeleton, gives the best hugs/cuddles. Four arms and all that. Cradles you with ease.
During winter, if you're warm blooded, he's attached to you. Gets all sluggish and hides away. He's not as bad as reptiles, but it's close. Please feed him something hot.
Obviously loves spicy foods, but he especially loves them during winter. And soups. All kinds of soups. Literally gives you heart eyes and chitters lovingly if you make him a big pot and feed him.
Has wings hidden somewhere under his shell/exoskeleton. Too small/thin to fly with, so he doesn't really show them off. Plus, they're super delicate.
Y'know how he can duck his head into his body? Does that when he's embarrassed or flustered. Eyes peeking out at you after you kiss him silly <3
đ Imagine your Alien coworker seeing âyouâ for the very first time đ
Alien x GN!Reader (slight yandere tones at the end)
Because youâre probably some specialized, executive scientist. Maybe youâre a government official, like an ambassador. Or even some sort of commanding officer. Either way, youâre very important.
And your role requires the utmost professionalism. Especially as the human race begins making itâs first contact with intelligent lifeforms from deep within the cosmos.
After all, theyâre extremely advanced. Biologically, theyâre beyond your wildest imaginings. Their tech makes your head hurt. They may seem friendly and peaceful now, but itâs still wise for you and your colleagues to be on your toes as you begin to work with them.
Everyday, you speak with this one extraterrestrial, whose job is parallel to yours. You use direct and clear communication with them, trying to avoid any language confusion. You keep an even tone, a pleasant face, and a stiff posture.
This alien respects you, seeing how capable you are. They admire how you solve problems and deeply appreciate your patience with them as they research your culture. Youâre just as exotic to them as they are to you. Theyâre enthusiastic to learn more.
At first, they donât see the barriers youâve clearly been putting up. They think this is just your natural state, that youâre always this uptight and courteous. They have no reason to doubt your diplomatic demeanor.
The authority suits you. You were made for responsibility. As far as human specimens go, youâre quite refined. At least, thatâs what they think until they see otherwise.
It was completely incidental, when they spotted you outside of your work. Up until then, they had only ever spoken to you when there was a task at hand. They almost didnât think it was you at first, despite being able to regonize that voice anywhere. You seemâŠso different.
Youâre at a bench, surrounded by a group of humans who were not up to your quality, to say the least. The alien has never seen you in those clothes before, which were loose and cozy. Your leg is hitched up and youâre slouching over it, completely relaxed.
And you look incredibly happy. Your face is scrunched up, teeth bared in a massive smile. The other humans keep speaking over each other, creating a jumble of noise, but you seem you to be listening intently. Someone says something that makes you roar with laughter, and you have to hold onto the table to not fall over. A couple tears trail down your red cheeks. Your hair falls in your face.
The alien feels an intense grumbling in their organs. At first, theyâre angry. Angry that theyâre not familiar with this gorgeous spectacle, of you being so joyous and vulnerable. Who was this human and where has it been? Everyday, they went out of their way to ask you for answers and opinions. Why had you been hiding this wonderful side of yourself all that time?
They stare at you a little longer, watching as you shift and sway deeper into your delight. One of your friends reach out and pinches your cheek. Another feeds a scoop of food into your mouth. The alien so desperately wishes it could earn the honor to be at that bench with you, to dote on and fawn over you while youâre squished up next to them.
They donât really care how long youâve known and trusted these humans. Theyâre just lowly citizens. If anyone deserved to be with your authentic self, it was the alien. Theyâd know how to treat you right, theyâd do all the research necessary to keep you in utter bliss at all times.
In fact, thatâs exactly what they do. When they finally leave the scene, they immediately study all the comforts and reliefs a human could want. And they obsess over needing to see it all on you.
They want to be the one to make you reeling with happiness. They want to be the one you need comfort from when youâre overcome with sadness. They want to tend after you when youâre ill and weak. They want to endlessly soothe you when youâre afraid. They want to be the one to make you melt with arousal. They want to ease you into slumber every night. They want to keep your belly full with the best of foods.
When you walk into work the next day, wearing your usual stiff outfit and agreeable expression, they almost want to accuse you of lying to them. Because this wasnât you. You werenât your job. You were a marvelous little thing, currently being tucked away in the name of professionalism.
But they keep it together. They donât try to expose the gorgeous creature they had only witnessed briefly last night. Instead, they observe carefully, trying to catch glimpses of it in your demeanor. One day, they think, one day I will see that person again. And I will love them endlessly.
