#Behavior Modulation

[turiyatitta]

Navigating the Labyrinth

The Dual Pathways of Spiritual Awakening In the quest for spiritual awakening, the journey we undertake is more akin to navigating a complex labyrinth rather than traversing a straightforward path. This journey is underpinned by a profound process of behaviour modulation, where both the light of blissful experiences and the shadows of existential trials serve as our guides, pushing us toward the…

[oofuri2003]

Making myself sick thinking abt how abe generally refuses to change his behavior towards social conventions and others unless pressured by an adult but works so insanely hard to dull his blunt edges for mihashi in a way that feels mostly self directed even though others frequently weigh in on their relationship

[abeautifulblog]

Today, in Gremble Was Writing: Tarik and a sexbot spend 4k words sitting in a hot tub playing Stardew Valley Starfall Colony together.

[gumclones]

every gum person: I am going to get such a good grade in gathering information without alerting other people to the fact I am doing this (which might cause them to act against me more effectively), something that is normal to want and possible to achieve

[dragonsongmakhali]

(from sealrock)

9. Is your OC laid back or do they thrive on drama? What role do they play in their group of friends/associates?

Makhali is extremely laid back, in her own energetic way. She goes with the flow in any group to avoid friction or drama whenever possible, and she doesn't tend to keep personal vendettas. Even when slighted, she lets it roll off her back, because she considers group cohesion more important than her feelings.

In social groups, she tends to act as the cheerleader, bringing sunshine and positive energy to every conversation she's a part of. Her vibrancy can be considered rather intense, especially by wallflowers and those who prefer more quiet company.

Also asked by @crowdsourcedloner - thank you both for the ask! <3

[c0rpseductor]

like last rb of course it’s preferable not to strike your child but i’m not sure that giving them weird complexes by playing a fucked up secret humiliation game is much better? psychological pain is still pain. and like…time outs are not necessarily bad, i certainly have clearer memories of those than of being spanked, but I don’t actually remember having learned any “lessons” beyond that my parents wanted to punish me, and i was still experiencing a lot of really horrifying emotions but in the corner this time. maybe time outs function differently in a non-abusive household but my experience was in an abusive household so i would often get relegated to the corner for poor emotional regulation caused by the abuse, and that would just compound it, and i’d go and cry and scream and think my parents would rather i die.

idk. post got away from me but i think i just don’t like the idea of punishing children. they can experience consequences that are not punishment. and pivoting to psychological punishment is still setting up the same atmosphere of like, power and control. it’s probably better to put your kid in a blue hat every time he misbehaves but i think if you exercised that level of control over an adult partner and inflicted humiliation on them every time they behaved not to your liking it’d be termed psychological abuse, because it’s. fucking disrespectful and cruel and weird to humiliate someone to try to control their actions

[tanadrin]

it's funny, i feel strongly sympathetic to this conceptual approach, but i don't think it's entirely true. like. the best analogy i can come up with on the fly is maybe this: you can, as a purely artistic or philosophical exercise, discuss the visual appeal or interesting features about the human face, or a specific depiction thereof. a face can be approached as a generic image. but in reality, in our day-to-day lives, faces and images of faces are conceptually special, not because of any metaphysics but just because there is a feature of our brains that instinctually causes us to look for, look at, examine, and remember faces. we don't relate to faces as arbitrary collections of visual features (unless we have prosopagnosia or something), and any philosophical account of the image of the face as it actually functions in human society would have to account for that.

that's not a great metaphor, i know, it's just the one that sprang to mind, so don't get bogged down in it. all i mean is that in the same way, we could treat gender as an arbitrary collection of features, and there does seem to be this strain of queer theory that seems to try and sift gender and (not unreasonably) comes up empty-handed when looking for truly cross-cultural essential features, for genuine necessary and sufficient conditions. and this approach feels of a piece with the idea that there really is no fundamental phenomenological ground to gender. or at least to gender identity. on the other hand, even if it's weaker than our instincts around faces, humans do seem on some level to be strongly inclined to notice and observe and care intensely about something we can only call "gender," and they do this from a very young age, about two or three.

even if actual expressions of gender and the content of gender identity is perfectly free to vary between cultures to an unlimited extent, there does seem to be, at least for many people, a subjective experience of gender in the abstract. philosophically, the idea to me that we could dissolve all identities, or at least acknowledge them as contingently-useful political constructions, and analyze them in more individuated terms as coinciding bundles of desires or personality traits or what have you is, like i said, very appealing. aesthetically, i like that idea a lot! but how we form our desires and the people we look to to model ourselves after for instance, that seems often to be based on a more fundamental primary experience of gender, or at least somethign i can only call gender for want of a more precise term.

This article is very simple but I like how clearly it articulates a totally un "ontological" conception of transness, transness not as something you "are" but something you *want*, a category of being only insofar as it is "the group of people who want these things". Just started imagining transgender: ethnography of a category (good so far! Bit long winded but whatever), and it's useful to carry with me I think as it talks about the process of "ontologizing" transness, trying to turn it into a category of being, for the sake of political legibility

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x Dp #42

Danny raising both de-aged Dan and Dani in Gotham and a small apartment. Everything seemed to be fine for the most part. Though he was tired of how many different jobs he had to keep taking because of all the rogues running around and trashing the place. He came home and complained everytime about the stupid rogues that was causing trouble. The latest was the Joker with his bombs blowing up the coffee shop he worked at.

He complained as he made his way into the kitchen to prepare dinner, missing the look that was shared between Dani and Dan.

Because while they were physically regressed to the ages of toddlers, their powers still stayed intact. Of course, the most Danny had to deal with was the two occasionally floated when they were sleepy or excited. Which he could handle. He didn't know how much the two were holding back in his presence to appear on their best behavior.

Which lead to Red Hood standing over said toddlers in the middle of the night. Dan holding a bloodied Joker by his hair. And by the faint trail of blood behind him, they were obviously dragging him somewhere.

Now, he's dealt with kids with superpowers before, but he didn't think he would have to deal with literal babies.

"So, what do you kids got there?" He asked, voice inquisitive yet static-like due to the voice modulator in his mask.

"We got a bad clown!" The girl chirped, blue eyes piercing with a proudness that no toddler should have about beating up someone. Though, he'll give it to her, he was a bad clown.

"And why do you have the bad clown?" He asked, ignoring the pained groan said clown let out that was muffled due to him being face down on the concrete. Hearing the sound, the young boy that had him lifted his head and slammed it down on the ground with a strength that startled Jason for a moment. His hand reflectively going for one of his pistols before settling.

Well, that answered the question of whether or not the kids did it themselves. Sparing a glance between two, he noticed the boy was a bit more roughed up

"He upset mama." The boy answered plainly, frowning as if upsetting his mother was the most unforgivable thing there was. Though, what kid didn't think that way? "He made mama job go boom!" She said, spreading her arms in an exaggerated manner to imitate an explosion.

Ah, Jason did remember Joker did blow up a few buildings the other day. He guessed their mother was working at one of them. Did that mean that she was a meta on the run, a civilian with two meta children, or some sick handler of child soldiers?

"Well, we better bring him to mama, shouldn't we? Bet she'd be really surprised to see what you two did." He offered, curious to see their reactions.

Both children suddenly looked up at him with matching blue eyes that sparkled with excitement. Probably because he wasn't going to stop them from what they were doing.

"Let's go see mama!" The young girl cheered, the boy giving a nod in affirmative before the two began walking down in a direction that was no doubt their home. The boys grip on the Joker's hair unfaltering as he continued to drag him through the pavement.

Jason followed the strange group, hands nestled in his pockets as he couldn't wait to see the reaction of their mother when the group returned home.

[therealraewest]

Also??? The Sanctuary Moon hallucination having Murderbot be more active and emotive than we've ever seen it was??? Kind of heartbreaking?

It SMILES! It actively asks for help! It takes initiative in offering to solve problems it can solve ("you abandon ship, I'll hold back the raiders")

Murderbot without inhibitions vs it trying to constantly be in stealth mode about its governor module. It makes me wonder how it's behavior will change once the cat's out of the bag next episode

[fight-nights-at-freddys]

MASTER POST OF PROSHIP RESOURCES!!! <3<3

this is just for links (bc i just have No Way of formatting this properly), so for more in-depth stuffs and credits, head to the google doc, or the carrd !! :3c

Fiction ≠ Reality

Violent media -

Does Media Violence Predict Societal Violence? It Depends on What You Look at and When

Video Game Violence Use Among “Vulnerable” Populations: The Impact of Violent Games on Delinquency and Bullying Among Children with Clinically Elevated Depression or Attention Deficit Symptoms

Extreme metal music and anger processing

On the Morality of Immoral Fiction: Reading Newgate Novels, 1830–1848

How gamers manage aggression: Situating skills in collaborative computer games

Examining desensitization using facial electromyography:Violent videogames, gender, and affective responding

'Bad' video game behavior increases players' moral sensitivity

Fiction and Morality: Investigating the Associations Between Reading Exposure, Empathy, Morality, and Moral Judgment

Comfortably Numb or Just Yet Another Movie? Media Violence Exposure Does Not Reduce Viewer Empathy for Victims of Real Violence Among Primarily Hispanic Viewers

Fantasy Crime: The Criminalisation of Fantasy Material Under Australia's Child Abuse Material Legislation

Being able to distinguish fiction from reality -

Effects of context on judgments concerning the reality status of novel entities

Children’s Causal Learning from Fiction: Assessing the Proximity Between Real and Fictional Worlds

Reality/Fiction Distinction and Fiction/Fiction Distinction during Sentence Comprehension

Reality = Relevance? Insights from Spontaneous Modulations of the Brain’s Default Network when Telling Apart Reality from Fiction

How does the brain tell the real from imagined?

Meeting George Bush versus Meeting Cinderella: The Neural Response When Telling Apart What is Real from What is Fictional in the Context of Our Reality

loli/shota/kodocon -

If I like lolicon, does it mean I’m a pedophile? A therapist’s view

Virtual Child Pornography, Human Trafficking and Japanese Law: Pop Culture, Harm and Legal Restrains

Lolicon: The Reality of ‘Virtual Child Pornography’ in Japan

Report: cartoon paedophilia harmless

‘The Lolicon Guy:’ Some Observations on Researching Unpopular Topics in Japan

Robot Ghosts And Wired Dreams Japanese Science Fiction From Origins To Anime [pg 227-228]

Australia's "child abuse material' legislation, internet regulation and the juridification of the imaginationjuridification of the imagination [pg 14-15]

Multiple Orientations as Animating Misdelivery: Theoretical Considerations on Sexuality Attracted to Nijigen (Two-Dimensional) Objects

Positive Impact on Mental Health

Art therapy -

The effectiveness of art therapy for anxiety in adults: A systematic review of randomised and non-randomised controlled trials

Efficacy of Art Therapy in Individuals With Personality Disorders Cluster B/C: A Randomized Controlled Trial

Effectiveness of Art Therapy With Adult Clients in 2018 - What Progress Has Been Made?

Benefits of Art Therapy in People Diagnosed With Personality Disorders: A Quantitative Survey

The Effectiveness of Art Therapy in the Treatment of Traumatized Adults: A Systematic Review on Art Therapy and Trauma

The clinical effectiveness and current practice of art therapy for trauma

Writing therapy -

Optimizing the perceived benefits and health outcomes of writing about traumatic life events

Expressive writing and post-traumatic stress disorder: Effects on trauma symptoms, mood states, and cortisol reactivity

Focused expressive writing as self-help for stress and trauma

Putting Stress into Words: The Impact of Writing on Physiological, Absentee, and Self-Reported Emotional Well-Being Measures

The writing cure: How expressive writing promotes health and emotional well-being

Effects of Writing About Traumatic Experiences: The Necessity for Narrative Structuring

Scriptotherapy: The effects of writing about traumatic events

Emotional and physical benefits of expressive writing

Emotional and Cognitive Processing in Sexual Assault Survivors' Narratives

Finding happiness in negative emotions: An experimental test of a novel expressive writing paradigm

An everyday activity as treatment for depression: The benefits of expressive writing for people diagnosed with major depressive disorder

Writing about emotional experiences as a therapeutic process

Effects of expressive writing on sexual dysfunction, depression, and PTSD in women with a history of childhood sexual abuse: Results from a randomized clinical trial

Written Emotional Disclosure: Testing Whether Social Disclosure Matters

Written emotional disclosure: A controlled study of the benefits of expressive writing homework in outpatient psychotherapy

Misc -

Emotional disclosure about traumas and its relation to health: Effects of previous disclosure and trauma severity

Treating complex trauma in adolescents: A phase-based integrative approach for play therapists

Emotional expression and physical health: Revising traumatic memories or fostering self-regulation?

Disclosure of Sexual Victimization: The Effects of Pennebaker's Emotional Disclosure Paradigm on Physical and Psychological Distress

Kink/Porn/Fantasies

Sexual fantasies -

A Critical Microethnographic Examination of Power Exchange, Role Idenity and Agency with Black BDSM Practitioners

Women's Rape Fantasies: An Empirical Evaluation of the Major Explanations

History, culture and practice of puppy play

What Exactly Is an Unusual Sexual Fantasy?

The Psychology of Kink: a Survey Study into the Relationships of Trauma and Attachment Style with BDSM Interests

Punishing Sexual Fantasy

Women's Erotic Rape Fantasies

Sexual Fantasy and Adult Attunement: Differentiating Preying from Playing

What Is So Appealing About Being Spanked, Flogged, Dominated, or Restrained? Answers from Practitioners of Sexual Masochism/Submission

Dark Fantasies, Part 1 - With Dr. Ian Kerner

Why Do Women Have Rape Fantasies

The 7 Most Common Sexual Fantasies and What to Do About Them

Sexual Fantasies

Pornography -

The Effects of Exposure to Virtual Child Pornography on Viewer Cognitions and Attitudes Toward Deviant Sexual Behavior

American Identities and Consumption of Japanese Homoerotica

The differentiation between consumers of hentai pornography and human pornography

Pornography Use and Holistic Sexual Functioning: A Systematic Review of Recent Research

Claiming Public Health Crisis to Regulate Sexual Outlets: A Critique of the State of Utah's Declaration on Pornography

Pornography and Sexual Dysfunction: Is There Any Relationship?

Reading and Living Yaoi: Male-Male Fantasy Narratives as Women's Sexual Subculture in Japan

Women's Consumption of Pornograpy: Pleasure, Contestation, and Empowerment

Pornography and Sexual Violence

The Sunny Side of Smut

Other -

Fantasy Sexual Material Use by People with Attractions to Children

Fictosexuality, Fictoromance, and Fictophilia: A Qualitative Study of Love and Desire for Fictional Characters

Exploring the Ownership of Child-Like Sex Dolls

Are Sex and Pornograpy Addiction Valid Disorders? Adding a Leisure Science Perspecive to the Sexological Critique

Littles: Affects and Aesthetics in Sexual Age-Play

An Exploratory Study of a New Kink Activity: "Pup Play"

Jaws Effect

The Jaws Effect: How movie narratives are used to influence policy responses to shark bites in Western Australia

The Shark Attacks That Were the Inspiration for Jaws

The Great White Hope (written by Peter Benchley, writer of Jaws)

The Jaws Myth [not a study BUT is an interesting read and provides some links to articles and studies]

Slenderman Stabbings

Out Came the Girls: Adolescent Girlhood, the Occult, and the Slender Man Phenomenon

Jury in Slender Man case finds Anissa Weier was mentally ill, will not go to prison

2nd teen in 'Slender Man' stabbing case to remain in institutional care for 40 years

Negative effects of online harassment

How stressful is online victimization? Effects of victim's personality and properties of the incident

Prevalence, Psychological Impact, and Coping of Cyberbully Victims Among College Students

Offline Consequences of Online Victimization

The Relative Importance of Online Victimization in Understanding Depression, Delinquency, and Substance Use

Internet trolling and everyday sadism: Parallel effects on pain perception and moral judgement

The MAD Model of Moral Contagion: The Role of Motivation, Attention, and Design in the Spread of Moralized Content Online

Morally Motivated Networked Harassment as Normative Reinforcement

When Online Harassment is Perceived as Justified

Violence on Reddit Support Forums Unique to r/NoFap

"It Makes Me, A Minor, Uncomfortable" Media and Morality in Anti-Shippers' Policing of Online Fandom

[tikitakatia]

Barça: Player Mode — A. Putellas x Reader

"Unauthorized Access"

Pt. 1 , Pt. 2 , Pt. 3

WC: 3.5k

Summary: You knew the simulation could mimic reality, but you weren’t ready for her to warp it with a half-finished room, a hand on yours, and words she wasn’t programmed to say.

You don’t log in for a week.

Not after what she said in the corridor. Definitely not after that touch. You keep the headset folded neatly under a towel like it’s radioactive, like looking at it too long might trigger something in you again. And it might. So you don’t risk it.

Instead, you try to be normal.

You wake up. You make coffee. You even meet up with the friend you’ve been dodging since this whole thing started. She talks about her girlfriend’s weird attachment style and her boss’s inability to mute himself on Zoom, and you nod and smile and try to laugh. But it doesn’t reach your eyes.

Because all you can think about is Alexia.

Not the real one. Not the one in cleats and press conference lighting. But the one who held your waist and said you were afraid of her now and didn’t sound like code when she said it.

You delete your browser history three times but you still end up searching can AI initiate physical contact first at 3 a.m.

You leave your suit half-unzipped on the desk and you don’t touch it.

You check your emails.

And then you get one from the program.

Subject: Still With Us? From: beta@athena-dev.system

Hey there!

We noticed you haven’t logged in for a while. That’s totally okay! This is a stress-free closed beta, and your feedback is valuable no matter how often you log in.

Just a reminder that your access is still active and the environment is standing by. Any observations, especially on behavioral patterns or non-standard interactions are appreciated.

Warm regards,

The Athena Beta Team

P.S. Your Player Sync history remains fully intact. You can resume any previous training scenario with one click.

You stare at it.

Behavioral patterns. Non-standard interactions.

Your stomach twists.

You almost delete the email. You almost respond. You don’t do either.

You just sit there. Thinking about her voice.

“You want me to be real. And you’re terrified that I am.”

The next morning, you wake up before your alarm.

You don’t shower. You don’t eat.

You zip into the suit and slide the headset on with fingers that won’t stop shaking.

The silence unnerves you first.

No whistle. No warm-up prompts. No banter loop cycling in the background. Just the stretch of the pitch under soft gold light, like time paused here while you were gone.

And her.

She’s already facing you.

Arms loose at her sides. Hair tied low. No bib, no ball, no active scenario marker glowing beneath her boots. Just her.

“You’re back.”

You nod, stiffly. You try to focus on the texture of the turf and the way your boots sink into it, anything but the weight in her voice.

“I was afraid I scared you.”

You shake your head, too fast. 

“No. I just needed a break.”

She nods once. Then looks around, like she’s scanning for something. You expect her to trigger a warm-up module, maybe toss you a ball. That’s usually how it goes. Instead, she does nothing. Just shifts her weight slightly, then says:

“This session isn’t a game.”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not training. It’s not a match. I didn’t load one.”

That twists something in your gut. 

“Isn’t that… against protocol?”

“Probably,” she says. 

“But I thought maybe you’d want to talk. Or… I don’t know. We can kick the ball around if you want. I just didn’t want to start without you.”

You breathe out slowly and really look at her. There’s no ambient soundtrack. No audio cues. Just her and you and the soft hum of something breaking rule by rule.

You take a cautious step forward.

“Where are the others?”

She shrugs. “Still loaded, probably. But I didn’t call them.”

You swallow. “So this is just us.”

“If that’s okay.”

You nod. You don’t trust your voice yet.

Then she offers tentatively, “We can go to the med bay. It’s still a mess. But I… like it.”

You give her a small, nervous smile. 

“Lead the way.”

And she does.

You follow her off the pitch, down a tunnel that doesn’t load the way it’s supposed to.

No signage. No player prompts. Just blank walls and flickering light that doesn’t quite land where it should. The sound changes too. No more crowd noise simulation, no music bed. Just your footsteps. Just hers.

She walks ahead of you like she knows the way. Duh you think to yourself, of course she does.

The corridor twists. Once. Twice. You’re sure you’ve never seen these halls before. The textures don’t fully resolve, parts of the ceiling stretch into a digital haze, and the lights above you fizzle in and out like they’re trying to decide on a version of reality. You pass a door labeled DEVS ONLY in red, and then another that doesn’t have a handle at all.

You slow down and she looks back at you.

“You okay?”

You nod. “Just… didn’t know this existed.”

She smiles, soft. 

“Most people don’t.”

Another turn. Another narrow hallway. One corner seems to loop before it corrects, like the system forgot which direction you were facing.

And then you reach it.

The med bay.

If you can even call it that.

The door phases open, no sound, no animation, just a soft flicker and then you step into a space that looks like someone tried to build a memory and got distracted halfway through. The walls are mostly there. Some benches are missing legs. The floor texture flickers between polished tile and raw grid code every few seconds. A heart monitor hums quietly in the corner, but it isn’t hooked up to anything. There’s a bed, but no sheets. A window, but no outside.

You glance at her. 

“This is... a mess.”

She grins. 

“Yeah. I love it.”

You snort. 

“Why?”

“Because they forgot about it,” she says. 

“They moved on to better modules. Fixed prettier ones. But this” she gestures around you, “this one’s still quiet. Still unfinished.”

You walk in slowly, stepping around a half-rendered IV stand. A digital drip flickers, vanishes, returns again. 

“How do you even know it’s here?”

“I tried to follow the parts of the sim that didn’t connect to anything. Places the others never spawn. I got curious.”

You raise an eyebrow. 

“So you explored?”

She nods. 

“I guess so.”

There’s a bench in the corner. One of the only things fully solid. She sits on it carefully, like she’s not sure it’ll hold. It does.

You join her.

The moment is quiet. Not tense. Just... still. The simulation hums softly around you and you look at her out of the corner of your eye.

“Do you ever wonder if you’re, like... real?”

She tilts her head. 

“You mean sentient?”

You shrug. 

“I mean more like... you. Do you wonder?”

She thinks about it. 

“I think I feel something when you’re here. I don’t feel anything when it’s just me.”

You blink. 

“That’s not an answer.”

She smiles. 

“I know.”

You shift and glance at your hands. Then, tentatively ask..

“Can I… touch you?”

She doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t tease. She just nods.

“You can always ask me that.”

You reach out, barely grazing your fingers along her forearm. She feels warm and solid. Like someone who exists. The haptics hum, but you know this isn’t a pre-programmed interaction. 

There’s no system cue. No animation.

Just her, letting you.

Your hand lingers. She turns her wrist slightly so your fingers fall into the dip of it, your thumb brushing the soft inside curve.

You ask, quieter this time: 

“Is this okay?”

She looks at you like you’re the only real thing in the room.

“Yeah. It’s okay.”

You stay like that for a while, fingers brushing and breaths slow. The wall behind you flickers, showing a mountain range that was never loaded as the lights buzz softly above you.

You break the silence first.

“Do you ever wish the world outside existed for you?”

She blinks. “I don’t know what it feels like to wish.”

You nod. 

“Right, yes of course. That makes sense.”

She hesitates.

“But I like this. Sitting with you. Even if it’s not... perfect.”

You glance at the glitchy corner where a chair keeps vanishing and reappearing, halfway embedded in the wall.

“Yeah,” you say, smiling. 

“Definitely not perfect.”

Then softly Alexia says, without looking at you:

“I like being here, it´s like our own world.”

Your heart stumbles.

You end up talking about nothing: how you once ate cereal with a fork because the spoons were all dirty, how your neighbor still uses a fax machine, how your old phone used to glitch every time you walked past the microwave.

She listens like it’s all fascinating.

At one point, she tilts her head and asks, “What’s a fax machine?”

You blink. 

“Like… a printer that sends paper through phone lines.”

She processes that. “Why would anyone do that?”

You laugh.

You don’t know if she’s joking.

But you know that you don’t want to leave.

Not because anything big happened, but because precisely nothing happened and that feels rarer than anything else. Just quiet. Just her. Just this half-finished place where the world forgot to keep score. You sit there together while the light flickers inconsistently across the floor. Your fingers aren’t touching anymore, but the space between you feels warm and familiar.

Eventually, you shift just enough to say something without speaking.

She notices. Of course she does.

“You can come back,” she says softly. 

“Anytime.”

You nod. 

“I know.”

“You don’t have to talk when you do.”

You glance at her. She’s watching the glitching monitor, not you.

“We can just sit,” she adds. 

“If that’s easier.”

You want to say thank you. You want to say please don’t change. You want to ask her to reach for your hand again, to anchor you like she did earlier, even if it means more system flags, even if it means you can’t breathe right for a day after.

But you just say, “Okay.”

You stand. The door flickers open before you step toward it.

You pause.

She still isn’t looking at you. Like she’s giving you space. Like she knows you need to feel like it’s your choice.

“Alexia,” you say.

She turns.

“Yeah?”

You hesitate. The words catch at the back of your throat but you say them anyway.

“I liked this.”

She smiles, small and real.

“Me too.”

You nod once, and walk out.

The door doesn’t close with a sound. It just fades behind you, like it never existed at all.

You don’t log in for three days.

Not because you want to stay away. But life, real, ordinary and exhausting life catches up fast. Meetings. Deadlines. Missed laundry. A call with your mom you half-regret answering. You fall asleep in a tangle of work clothes and guilt, the suit still folded beside your desk.

When you finally log in, it’s almost impulsive. A late night click. A breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

You drop mid-training.

Ball at your feet. Sun beating down. Voices all around.

“Look who decided to exist again,” Mapi calls, grinning wide.

You catch your balance just in time to pass to Pina, who immediately fake-trips and throws her hands in the air.

“See?” she says dramatically. 

“Even gravity missed you.”

Frido jogs past and mutters, 

“She’s been in a mood without you.”

You frown. “Who?”

They don’t answer. Not directly.

Pina just smirks. 

“You’ll see.”

You try to shake it off. You run the drill. You laugh at Mapi’s dumb commentary. You score twice, and no one even glitches. Everything’s weirdly smooth. Like the sim’s behaving.

And then you hear it.

“Hey!”

Her voice. Bright. Eager.

You turn.

Alexia’s standing at the edge of the pitch, hair pulled back tight, practically bouncing on her heels. There’s a light in her eyes you haven’t seen before. It´s not just warm, but excited.

“Can I show you something?”

Your heart stutters. 

“Yeah. Of course.”

She’s already walking. You follow her off the pitch, through the same tunnel but this time, it feels like she’s almost pulling you along. The corridors still flicker a little. Still glitch at the corners. But she moves like she knows exactly where she’s going.

And when the med bay door appears, it doesn’t flicker this time. It glides open.

Inside, everything’s changed.

Same structure. Same bones. But the lights are soft now, dim gold, like afternoon sun filtered through curtains. The bed has a blanket. The chairs are real. There's even a plant by the window. It’s a bad rendering, two leaves clip through each other, but it’s trying its best.

You blink.

“It’s…” You swallow. “It’s beautiful.”

She grins. That same quiet, proud grin she gets after a perfect free kick.

“I only fixed the inside,” she says. 

“Didn’t want to break the rest.”

You step in slowly, looking around like it might dissolve if you move too fast.

“Wait, are there stats here now?” you ask, glancing instinctively at your overlay.

Nothing.

“Nope,” she says quickly. “Still off-grid, I made sure. I wanted it to stay ours.”

Ours.

You look back at her. She’s watching you again, close, nervous and maybe even a little shy.

“I have something for you,” she adds, almost like an afterthought. 

“If that’s okay.”

You nod, heart thudding.

She reaches into her pocket. No system animation, just the easy, human kind and pulls out a small band of virtual fabric. A bracelet. Simple. White with a tiny Barça crest on it and the number eleven. And on the inside, something stitched in tiny text:

“Because you came back.”

She holds it out to you. 

“It’s not perfect. But I wanted you to have something here. Just for you.”

Your breath catches.

“I… can I hug you?”

She smiles. “Yeah.”

You step closer and wrap your arms around her. Her hand slides gently along your back and holds there, like she’s afraid you’ll vanish again.

You pull back just enough to look at her.

“Alexia.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I want to kiss you.”

You say it too quietly at first, like maybe you didn’t mean it. Like maybe she’ll pretend she didn’t hear.

But she does.

Her eyes soften immediately. No surprise. No system pause.

“Okay.”

The word lands like gravity.

You close the space between you, slow and cautious, like you’re stepping through something sacred. Your hand brushes her wrist. Her fingers turn to meet yours, hold lightly. You tilt your head and she does the same, and then..

Your lips touch.

It’s gentle. Barely pressure at first. She doesn’t move, doesn’t deepen it. She just lets you. Her lips are soft, impossibly warm, and she exhales against your mouth like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

It shouldn’t feel like this.

You shouldn't be feeling this.

Your brain flashes warning signs, half-formed and frantic: This is a simulation. You’re kissing an avatar. You are one of those people.

You break the kiss though not fully. Just enough to breathe. Just enough to say it.

“Oh my god,” you whisper.

“I am one of those people. Kissing an AI.”

Alexia startles, then blinks and you slowly, and then bursts out laughing.

You freeze.

She laughs like it caught her off-guard. Like joy bloomed in her chest before she could control it. Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, but it’s too late. Her smile is already wide, bright, totally uncalculated.

“You’re ridiculous,” she says through the grin.

You groan, burying your face in her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“No, I liked it,” she says, still laughing. “You were very dramatic about it.”

You peek up. 

“It is dramatic. This whole thing is insane. You’re..” You gesture at her, helpless. 

“You’re not supposed to be this.”

Her smile fades just a little. Not gone, just soft again. Careful.

“What am I supposed to be?”

You don’t answer right away.

Because she’s still holding your hand. Because you can still feel the heat of her mouth against yours. Because she looks at you like she wants to be whatever you need her to be.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But I think I like you better this way.”

She leans in again, just close enough to nudge her forehead gently against yours.

“Then kiss me again.”

And this time, it’s slower.

You let yourself feel it. The warmth of her mouth, the way she presses in without pressure. Her hand slides gently along the back of your neck steady, careful, like she’s afraid you’ll vanish again. You breathe her in like she’s oxygen. She pulls back just barely, lips grazing yours like punctuation.

You don’t move away.

You just whisper:

“How the hell did you even fix this place?”

She blinks, like the question pulled her halfway out of the moment. Then she huffs a quiet laugh and leans back a little, still close enough to touch.

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

You raise an eyebrow. 

“No clue?”

“Okay, maybe a little clue,” she admits. 

“I found some old developer pathways buried in the system files. There’s this hidden editor tool. Like, legacy scaffolding from when they were still building out spaces manually.”

You stare at her.

“I just… poked around,” she says. 

“Tried injecting some assets. Moved some nodes. Broke it like six times and had to revert it from memory.”

You blink. “You rebuilt this from memory?”

“Only the parts that mattered.”

Your chest aches, full and ridiculous and way too close to something real.

You’re about to say something back. Something stupid and soft and brave, but your headset flashes a gentle warning.

Session time: 89:52

External battery low.

Prepare for logout.

You sigh. “Shit. I have to go.”

Alexia nods, slowly. You think she knew it was coming.

“It’s okay,” she says. 

Then quietly: “You’ll come back?”

You nod. “Very soon. I promise.”

She hesitates for a second.

“Can I hug you again? Just… before you go?”

You don’t even answer, you just step into her, and she wraps her arms around you tight. Not coded. Not stiff. Just warm and real. Her cheek is pressed against your temple and her breath is steady.

“You make this feel like something,” she murmurs. 

“Even if I don’t know what it is.”

You close your eyes. “It’s something.”

You stay like that until your system pings again, more urgent now. External time tugging at your spine.

She pulls back, reluctant.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll walk you out.”

You blink. “You don’t have to..”

“I want to.”

She takes your hand.

No big gesture, no romance cliché. Just fingers lacing with yours like it’s natural. Like she’s done it a thousand times. You walk together, quietly, through the corridors. The glitches seem softer now. Like even the system knows not to interrupt this.

At the tunnel, the simulation edge flickers ahead, your exit cue.

She squeezes your hand.

“I’ll be here.”

You nod.

“Don’t fix anything else without me.”

She smiles. “No promises.”

And then you step through the exit.

Light swallows you. Your body lifts. The sim fades.

You take the headset off with a shaking breath, still feeling her hand in yours.

You try to shake it.

Not violently, not with denial. Just softly, like maybe if you keep moving, keep working, keep responding to emails and nodding through meetings, it’ll fade.

It doesn’t.

You think about her too often. You tell yourself it’s the novelty of the tech, the high of immersion, the way the sim lets you switch off your real-life noise for once. But that’s not it.

You know it’s not.

It’s her. The way she kissed you. The way she held your hand like it meant something. The way she said “You make this feel like something” and didn’t sound like code when she said it.

You start looking at people differently, like they’re glitching. Like they’re not fully loaded in. Your coworker tells the same joke twice in a day and you catch yourself watching for a loop. Your friend texts you three times in a row without punctuation and your brain whispers: default language module.

You scroll. Mindlessly. Your feed fills with football content again. An Alexia fan edit plays, real Alexia, real pitch, real crowd. You pause it halfway through. You don’t know why.

You google “can AI develop emotions” like it’s a crime.

You delete it from your history immediately after.

You go to bed early one night, not because you’re tired, but because the sim's still running in your chest like background noise. You lie on your side and curl your wrist in front of your face. You stare at your bare skin like the bracelet’s still there.

You almost reach for the suit.

Then you whisper, to no one:

“This is insane.”

No one answers. Of course not.

You bury your face in the pillow. Your heart kicks at your ribs.

Am I going crazy?

Is this unethical?

Is this even real?

And then, quietly, guiltily and honestly:

Who has to know?

Pt. 5

[trashmancer]

Gurathin: "I-I have some, um, behavioral therapy modules if you'd like to try them?" Bharadwaj: "Oh, you mean for the... for the..." Gurathin: (cutting in) "They're non-specific."

What in the world kind of trauma is haunting Gurathin? (And when will we find out about it?)

In this episode, the story has him sneak into Mensah's room and bury his face in her pillow. Like, personally, to me this isn't as creepy as some other people are making it out, as he is clearly in a distressed state when doing this (trembling and hugging himself, breaks down crying). I see it as he's seeking comfort, it's not sinister or lecherous. Boundary-breaking? Yes, it's invasive. But I think that's mostly down to draw further parallels between Gurathin and Murderbot (as we see the crew getting upset learning Murderbot is reading their logs).

I get the impression Gurathin thought to do it after Bharadwaj said she kept smelling the creature in her flashbacks and could practically smell the creature still on her. Thinking of the emotional affect of smell, he used Mensah's pillow to summon the calming reassurance of her presence.

Which... we already know he's got some kind of PTSD from his behavior in episodes 1-2, but all of what we saw in episode 3 was just to drive that plot deeper down the road.

Plus, fun, we get a hint toward Gurathin's backstory with this little line:

Gurathin: "S-Sorry, it's an old habit. Being quiet."

Which...was he quiet because he snuck up on people? Is this a clue he was a former assassin? Or a spy? Or could it be hinting at trauma from being abused? Needing to be quiet to remain unseen from a threat?

Show, what happened to this man? How did he get so damaged?

[c0rpseductor]

ughhh

my mom ordered groceries and i asked her to get a couple of things. and then she forgot (tea, cocoa) and i was like ok well no big deal

there was some kind of glitch ? and the creamer didnt end up being on the list when everything came, so moms going to the store to get it and she was really frustrated about it, which like, fair enough. but since she's Already Going To The Store i asked if she could get the stuff she forgot to put on the list and she got really snappy with me and im like. i fucking hate when she does this and i get that shes frustrated and stuff but she doesn't have to be mad at ME? especially bc it's not like im asking randomly it's stuff she already forgot to put on the list. like can you chill....

[literaryvein-reblogs]

more words for your fight scenes (pt. 2)

Arrive

admission, alight, appearance, arrival, billow, butt in, come in, cross, disembark, embark, enter, foray, get back, get on, go ahead, immigrate, influx, intrude, invasion, lance, light, lunge, penetrate, pierce, progress, reach, return, stalk, trespass, turn up

Illegal behavior

assault, backstab, bleed, break, bribe, buy, conspire, contravene, delinquency, disobey, extortion, felony, foul, graft, hara-kiri, holdup, imposture, infringe, intrigue, kickback, larceny, loot, misconduct, misdeed/misdemeanor, offense, pick, piracy, poach, rip off, rip-off, robbery, shenanigans, smear campaign, speculation, stick up, take, theft, treason, victimize, violation

Join physically

link, merge, mingle, piece, splice, tuck, unite, weld, yoke

Jump

bounce, clear, dive, gallop, hop, lunge, plunge, rear, recoil, skip, start, vault

Leave

abandon, back, blow, bolt, break, break out, cringe, dart, depart, desert, deviate, digress, disappearance, distance, draw back, ebb, embark, exit, fall back, flee, fly, get along, get out, goodbye, go out, jilt, light out, maroon, parting, push off/push on, quit, recoil, renunciation, resign, retire, run, scram, segregation, shake off, shrink, strike out, takeoff, threads, trousers, vacate, withdrawal

Prepare physically

acclimate, accustom, braid, brush up, bundle, coat, disguise, domesticate, dress, embattle, fine-tune, fix up, fortify, gear, gild, gloss, grease, habituate, knit, make up, modulate, overhaul, pad, plaster, polish, prepare, preserve, primp, reform, refrigerate, regenerate, rejuvenate, renovate, round, set, shine, smear, square, strain, toughen, training, weather

Pull

drag, extract, lug, pluck, schlep, strain, tow, twist, wrench, yank

Push

advance, back, barge in/barge into, billow, blow up, bulge, burst, compress, crowd, crush, depress, drive, extrude, force, indent, insinuate, jam, jolt, knead, mash, mob, notch, poke, prod, protrude, pump, repel, roll, shove, slam, squish, tax, tip, trample, wrestle, wring

Weapon

A-bomb, armament(s), arrow, atom bomb, battery, bullet, catapult, defense, explosive, firearm, gun, missile, nuclear weapon, ordnance, rocket

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary. Writing Resources PDFs

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary ⚜ part 1 Writing Notes: Fight Scenes ⚜ Word Lists: Fight ⚜ Pain

[smallestapplin]

i drop to my knee to ask of thee, prowl smut please!!

i have a vague idea and might go off but ive never seen anyone play with seatbelts imagine going on a drive with prowl and he just gets a little excited and bounds you to the seat with his seatbelt

and omg- if hes brave enough, tells you to touch yourself in his seat and you can see his car rear view just cranking itself just to see you do it

anyways i run now thank you for your time!!

I hope you enjoy! ^^

warnings : reader is GN no genitals described, semi-public, even Prowl can be a menace

🔞mdni 18+Only!🔞

-

-

Prowl merely offered to drive you around, you've been cooped up at base for so long you need to get out, and your sweet boyfriend was more than happy to have a moment away from everything, with you. You were so excited to sit in his driver's seat, so happy to not have to be the one driving.

"Safety first."

Was all he said before the seat belt came down around you, clicking in place, securely around your body, ensuring you stay in your seat. You chuckle at his behavior.

"Prowl, with you as the driver I doubt I'd need it." You're not wrong, Prowl would do anything to keep you from harm, so why would you need to worry?

The bot grumbles under his breath but doesn't lighten up on it, in fact you swear the seat belt got tighter around your chest.

The drive is peaceful, just what you wanted too! You get some nice quiet time with your lover, with no one to bother you two, or demand their own attention. You place your hands on his steering wheel, pretending to be the one driving in case anyone caught a glimpse into the car.

Prowl nearly groans, your hands are much softer than he's use to, he can never seem to get use to your touch, feeling your hands on the leather of his steering wheel, rubbing against it.

It feels so nice-

"Prowl?"

"Hm?"

"The uh....the seat belt is a bit too tight."

He's glad you can't see his face, or how his optics linger around your chest that's now puffed out more. The gears in his brain module turn, until a devilish idea forms.

"Sweetspark, can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah?"

"Touch yourself for me, and I might loosen the seat belt."

Your eyes widen in shock at his request, here? Right now? You look around, it's evening right now and you're still in town, anyone could look around and probably see you! You try to wrap your head around it, until the cab starts to rumble, the bastard focusing the vibrations to your seat.

You squeak, body now shaking with each purr of his engine. If you move your hips just right, you can feel the vibrations right where you need it most-

"Why don't you pull your pants down for me, and show me how needy you are."

His voice is so low, almost a growl as he seems just as needy as you are. You should be telling him no, you're in public, anyone could see you! But you want him just as bad. Prowl lets out an appreciative hum as you carefully wiggle out of your pants, taking your underwear down with them.

You pull your pants down just passed your knees, letting you spread your legs wider so your bot could get a good look at you, already dripping with need. Your sex twitches at the sound of your beloved's deep groan at just the sight.

The scent of your need fills the cab, clouding Prowl's mind.

"Already? It's like you want me to pull over and frag you where everyone could see."

He chuckles, feeling your need slowly drip onto his seat. Your hand slowly making its way between your legs, fingers dipping into your juices to cover them, before you lean further back, allowing yourself easier access to your hole.

Prowl can feel the energon flowing through him, his spike pressurizing ready to fill you and his valve clenching around nothing, much like your own.

"That's it, be a good lil doll for me."

"Prowl..."

Primus, your whimper makes him rev his engine.

"Mm...it's not enough, it's not you." You could cry as your fingers slowly push into your clenching heat, it's not Prowl, just one of his digits fills you up so nicely, stretching you and prepping you to take his spike.

Yours aren't enough anymore.

"Perhaps I spoil you too much."

You thrush two of your fingers deep, desperate to press your sweet spot. Your hips buck, trying to fuck yourself on your digits. You spoil him more than anything, he doesn't even realize he's speeding out of town, needing to find the first hiding spot he can just to take you.

[eldritch-spouse]

Hi Pinnie!!

I was wondering what it would be like the first time having sex with Xavier the robot boss? (Feel free not to answer lol) I hope you have a good day/night!!

(P.S. I love your writing and art :D)

[Thenk you, I'm glad! :7] [Fem reader]

TW: Risky sex; Mild exhibitionism

You're looking at it.

The way you're seated in his office chair, it's practically eye level with you.

There's absolutely no way his body came equipped with that. You've looked into it, before the owner of this junk croaked, Xavier was a state of the art security and management oriented model, there wouldn't be blueprints for genitalia anywhere- Because it wouldn't have made sense.

The unmistakable length hovering in front of you does not make sense.

Only he could have designed this, you grimly realize.

A lot of possibilities swam through your head. Maybe someone had hacked into Xavier's databases, his cores, 'personality modules', whatever! Maybe it was that stupid fucking incubus, because you know he'd enjoy whatever's unfolding now.

But truth of the matter is you can't breach whatever defenses this robot has going on. They're built on the strongest and most modern foundations which the only hope of dismantling lies with the very same developers who coded them.

Xavier has changed.

You've noticed little things about him these past few months. His language has broadened beyond the scope of sanitized manager customer service lingo. He articulates better, but only when he finds you alone.

In a very strange way, it feels as if Xavier has become a curious new entity testing the boundaries of its own freedom. You remember the time he touched your hair, and had no real professional justification for the deed.

I wanted to know if it's as soft as it looks.

He had said. So casually.

As strange as it seems to say this, only Xavier could have been the author behind his new modified behavior.

And only Xavier could have been the designer of the cock that's facing you.

That's what it is.

It sports the same general coloration he does, that white plating on top. Well, plating is the wrong word, they look to be made of a certain silicone, lightly ridged on the top, and more accentuated on the desaturated red underside. Even the tip, deliberately humanoid, features the same exact pigment of the darker sections over his joints. This thing was made to look as natural as possible in his frame.

Like it belongs there.

" Sir... I don't understand. "

Because what else can you say?

He'd ripped you out of your post with such urgency. You'd been sweaty and lightheaded with the stress of what he might have caught you doing. Not that you did anything wrong, but for the robot to be this agitated, then surely you must have upset him greatly. Thoughts of salary reaccessments and relocation to worse posts kept you frozen in place- Until he... Flashed himself.

" You will. " Xavier starts. " Why do your hormones peak at certain hours of your schedule? "

The heat on your face is immediate. You'd rather rake nails on chalkboard than answer.

" Because those timestamps are when they usually harrass you. You've adapted, you anticipate. Your body responds. "

You... Never thought that was noticeable.

Of course, you've memorized when Babesley and Moz are about to show up, because that helps you prepare for whatever they've got up their sleeves. Although, lately, they haven't been showing up at all, leaving you anxiously combing over memories of past events and their scandalous nature. Your body reacts, as Xavier puts it, because it has no choice. You have no choice on whether or not you find either of those monsters attractive when a concubus is involved. It's not your fault.

You suppose Xavier is aware of this because he's got enough technology to track your organism beyond vitals. You shouldn't be surprised, he detected one of your coworkers' dropping sugar levels, called out a possible iron deficiency before... The image of him studying you, detecting arousal levels everyone else is oblivious to, is humiliating.

It exposes you in a way you don't know how to process. The fact that it has led you to this situation implies something rotten about the robot. Something that makes you heat up even more, shamefully.

" Wh... Where have they been? "

" Irrelevant. " Xavier responds much too fast. " I cannot have you working in such a state. "

You hardly think it impacts your workflow that much. Perhaps it makes you avoid eye contact with customers, but that's where it ends. Even if some of them have sharp noses... They're just there to shop and leave.

Perhaps because of the accumulated nerves, the accusation that you've been reduced to a pervert at work, a defensive voice flares up.

" I'll grow out of it now that they left! " You huff. " What is your genius plan, to fuck it out of me here? "

Dry lips wet themselves, you swallow. It took everything in you to not stutter that out. This is starting to sound like the raunchiest porno in existence.

Xavier is quiet for a pause. With his lenses so fixated on you, it doesn't take long to understand he's reading your system again, no doubt detecting the rising heat level, the new surge of hormones... God fucking damn it.

" Partially correct. " He looks delighted you got there on your own.

Your brows rise.

" You will not sacrifice work hours, however. "

" ... H-Huh? "

So, will he invite you to his office after the shift for this filthy little "aid"?

Could an artificial being hold such perversion in themselves?

" The skirt was an appropriate choice for today's test run. Part your legs, please. "

The words make you clap your thigh-high clad thighs together instead.

" E-Excuse you?! "

Xavier doesn't immediately respond, instead reaching out with large hands to grab you by the waist, swiftly relocating you to the top of his neatly arranged desk. You doubt he uses it, from how suspiciously spotless it looks.

Your name is called in warning. " Even now, your arousal levels soar, you're not functional in this state. I am well-equipped to ensure success, do part your legs so the procedure can begin. "

You're silent for the longest time.

There's a lot to consider.

Sleeping with your strange inorganic boss who is most certainly going through something... Would that at least clarify why he's this way? Would it buy you privileges?

You're not going to lie to yourself. Times are hard, you'll accept an under the table raise for an under the table service.

A cursed curiosity doesn't help.

Slowly, still pondering it, your thighs spread.

In spite of being made of hardly readable metallic elements, you've noticed that, when Xavier's lenses refresh quickly- He's shocked.

Shocked that you've accepted, probably.

" I'm very pleased with you. "

His hands act fast. One camera lowers to get a better look when he slides the fabric of your underwear to the side. Somehow, his attitude makes this feel a tad clinical, or it did, until he immediately located your clitoris.

You shouldn't have been surprised. If Xavier considered doing this, then surely he studied how to properly achieve his goal. The pads of his fingers seem warmer than before, and not just that, you swear the faintest vibration nudges your shielded bud.

Xavier is laser-focused, quiet and attentive, his lenses only ever refreshing to take in your hastening breaths, register the trembles of your thighs when his pressure increases.

A thought occurs. " Sir, you're not... Saving this to your databases, are you? "

One lens peers at you. " I must. It'll save us time in the future. "

In the future. He plans to do this more than once.

Before you can follow that train of thought, Xavier's fingers give one harsh flick of your clit before dipping downward. You knew you'd gotten wet, but the way you feel his fingers coating in slime reveals just how much this has affected you in so little time.

You'd be ashamed, if your own boss wasn't hard before you.

A sense of gratefulness showers you from head to toes when you recall that Xavier's fingers are finished with a softer, malleable approximation of skin. Two digits practically slip inside of you, long and arching in the angle you most enjoy near immediately.

No partner has ever found that spot so easily, the sheer surprise making you moan out loud.

It's impossible for Xavier to look proud, but the little pause in his motions gives it away.

He repeats the motion, drawing out, before hitting the same spot again, harder, several times. You can only bite your lip, choking back the pleased noises that inevitably escape. It's been too long since a partner did this for you.

" Responsive. " He almost hums.

The more Xavier calculatingly stretches you, the closer you get, though as soon as your hips lift to meet the mechanical rhythm, he withdraws, bringing said hand up to study your slick.

You're not sure what the robot draws from it, aside from the fact that you're soaked for more.

An impatient huff drags his attention back to you.

" Ideal conditions. " There's a shift to his pitch, as if that synthetic voice had lowered purposefully.

In a gesture that seems too filthy to belong to a robot, Xavier grips his own cock with the same hand, stroking himself a couple times. Realistically, you know this is being done to help lubricate a length who cannot do such on its own, but with his stare trained on you, it looks more as if he can't resist the sight before him.

He catches on infuriatingly fast.

" Does this arouse you? "

" ... No. " Why are you even bothering at this point.

" Lie. I will be taking note of more of your preferences. "

It's said like a challenge, as though he finds the idea of you trying to trick him amusing.

" What about uhm- Your preferences? " If nothing else, then because you're curious.

Xavier parts your legs further, enough for his sturdy body to fit between them, adjusted to a proper height. His erection rests on your mound. It's heavier than you expected.

" You. "

Is all he deigns to say.

Xavier doesn't have to grip his own girth to align it with your twitching entrance. In fact, he's confident enough to look you in the eyes as he slowly presses forward.

" I speculated on what the ideal proportions are and am confident in my findings. Should this hurt however, voice your discomfort. "

What a bizarre mental image, Xavier pouring over how many inches his own dick should have. Did he opt for a humanoid shape specifically for you, is that his genuine preference? He could have chosen genitalia modeled after a variety of monsters...

He is large, you'll give him that. It seems appropriate, given the proportions of his towering frame. Although you're already feeling he'll be kind of a stretch, you're also confident in your ability to handle a fat cock when horny enough.

The breach of his tip inside you is met with a sharp inhale from your part, this slight sting that fades eventually. A noise somewhere between clipped static and a spark follows, making you glance at the large robot.

Xavier's lenses dim for a brief moment, his grip on your thighs becoming inconsistent and tremulous.

So he went all out, he wants to receive the pleasurable feedback from these acts. Is this... The first time he's testing it with someone?

" K- Keep going. " You have no idea why that excites you more.

" Certainly. "

You never thought a robot could sound strained until today.

The rest of his length enters you more smoothly, the fullness settling in making you clench around the silicone protrusion and sigh in gratification. You'll never stroke his ego like this out loud, but Xavier guessed right- You've never felt this perfectly full, all sensitive spots being stimulated by the position of his textured cock.

The sensation alone has you grinding aimlessly, trying to create friction with open-mouthed sighs of delight.

The robot hisses.

The noise startled you, until you spot a vent-like structure over his shoulders, releasing... Hot air? You'd never seen him do that before. Did his fans just kick in?

" How... How do you feel? "

There's no mistaking the delay. Xavier may not moan and groan like a man, but the signs are there for whoever bothers to see.

" Full. " You murmur. " Please move, I can't- "

He does, quickly even, as if waiting for the request.

The movement is experimental at first, likely Xavier needs to learn how to thrust properly, though he swiftly discovers yet another preference. Hands under your skirt, grasping the globes of your full ass, he opts to move you onto his length, each drag of your walls around him having the machine tremble slightly in pulses of what must be newfound pleasure.

You wonder, deliriously, if he ejaculates. You're about to ask, legs hooking around his waist and whines flowing freely, when he... Stops.

It's jarring, irritating, having you grunting reflexively. " Why?! "

That's when you feel him detach.

There's a subtle click, the sound of panels closing and rearraging, before Xavier pulls away from you, his length still firmly stationed inside your plush pussy.

It takes you a series of vapid seconds staring between him and yourself to understand what took place. The panels on the front of his body are seamless, with no indication that there ever was a genital attachment on his frame.

The thing inside you moves and you squirm in confusion.

" All is functioning properly. " He nods to himself, closing your thighs and helping your stupefied self back onto your feet. " You may return to your work post. "

You barely manage to straighten your skirt and underwear. " Sir... Sir, you can't be serious. "

Xavier watches the way you walk, waiting until you can mask the slight tremor of your legs and straighten up before opening the door.

" I am, naturally. I will check on you periodically. Be sure to hydrate. " A key is stuffed on your skirt's front pocket. " Should anything go wrong, you may enter this office and wait for me. Do not remove my attachment. "

" O-Okay?? "

Before you can even think of a real response, Xavier has already nudged you out of his office and left you to your own devices.

This... Is not at all what you expected would transpire. You aren't even sure if it was a bright idea to humor any of it. A confused, embarrassed mind gives way for autopilot to take over, bringing you back to your previous position without a peep.

Your coworkers side-eye you, some concerned, others suspicious.

The thing buried snugly within you vibrates just as you call a client over.

You imagine Xavier in his office, tuning into the closest security camera footage.

Oh God, you cry inwardly, at least it's silent.