#robots will be doing everything and anything and there will be nothing for us to do

[antiquepearlss]

Tangled The Series would have been very different if Varian were voiced by John Mulaney, huh?

[neverendingford]

.

[qonphuceingey]

I’ve been thinking about what the eventual state of human economic value (by which I mean the value a human can provide in the workforce) will be after there is a machine that can do every task we can. The key is to see if there is anything a human can do that a robot can’t eventually be expected to do.

Barring any massive complications, I think we can expect AI to be able to do any complex intellectual task, including make new discoveries and inventions. Likewise I think we can also reasonably expect some sort of machine to be invented for every single possible mechanical activity, including stuff like folding laundry and cooking food and other complex tasks we don’t trust them with yet. The main driver to this will probably be making energy cheaper or machinery more efficient, not some great invention, but you never know. I fully expect the best way to design this machinery is some sort of biological eugenics program that invents new life forms that are really good at these tasks, but that method is too unethical for people to actually use.

Anyway, what does that leave us with? The only thing humans can do that a robot can’t do is be trusted to make decisions that benefit humans. So, while I think there would be bots extremely good at carrying out tasks and making decisions that work towards the task, the person setting the overall direction and main objective of a group of robots will have to be a person.

Additionally, the value of a human to human interaction simply can’t be replaced with a robot, since that would be a robot to human interaction. And since only humans are typically given decision making power over robots, that probably gives them an edge in customer service or business negotiation over the robot, since the other party will know this robot can’t actually promise anything. Even if we invent robots that perfectly mimic humans, we’re far too racist as a species to simply get over that for at least a good while, so I think this will persist for a long time.

Also, if the robots invented for the tasks humans can do are more expensive than a human, it won’t be used, so there may be many tasks that are still using humans just because it’s cheaper, since there’s so many of us. This seems like a cop out answer which doesn’t really predict anything, but there you go. This is why mechanical tasks, which take more energy than intellectual tasks, will probably be done by humans for longer than the intellectual tasks (not including decision making) will be done. It’s just more expensive otherwise.

There is one last thought, which is entertainment. A person will probably better understand people than a robot will for quite a long time, and thus will be able to make worthwhile art and media with the help of bots to make it. This will probably increase the quantity and scale of what is available, but only something make by a human for a human carries the same sort of value to people. If the art doesn’t need an intrinsic value, such as packaging artwork or a logo, then it can be safely autogenerated. I’m actually quite hopeful that this means there will be more pretty visual media around on everything and not just blank stuff. When it’s basically the same price to paint a wall a beautiful mural as it is to paint it grey, I’m sure people will choose the first option.

Unfortunately, this does contradict the classic tumblr opinion of “I want the robots to do my washing and cooking while I do my writing and art, not the other way around”. I don’t really see a way around that until the two items are basically the same cost in terms of energy expenditure. The robot doesn’t want to do it either.

[swanlikely]

Current Brainrot: Brat Enabler Caleb!

Author's Note: The poll ended 50/50, so I made the executive (and very self-indulgent) decision to go with Brat Enabler Caleb! because sometimes I just wanna be spoiled, okay? Please check out the artist! (Artist & Her Ko-fi!)

not proof-read! (sorry if there are any errors - let me know and I'll fix it!)

CW: AFAB! reader, pet names, penetration, overstimulation, praise, light D/S dynamics, slight dacryphilia, and 'usage' of his bionic arm.

Caleb loves you like it’s coded into him. Like it’s in his blood, his bones, his circuitry.

He does it without effort, like breathing. Like the pulse of a machine: constant, precise, unyielding.

And he’d give you anything. Anything. Just one pout, one whimper, one soft little “Caleb, please”—and he’s dropping whatever he’s doing to hand it over. A brat’s dream. He doesn’t care if it’s indulgent or excessive or unnecessary. If you want it? You get it.

He’s always there. Cooking your favorite meals with one hand while the other; his right, sleek and gleaming with matte black plating—rests on the curve of your hip as you sit on the counter and sneak bites. That arm, the one people used to flinch at, has never once made you nervous. It’s part of him. Him, who tucks you in like you’re something breakable, who lifts you like you weigh nothing, who touches you with inhuman control and completely human care.

And right now, he’s using both hands: one warm, flesh and blood; the other cool, mechanical precision; to ruin you in the most delicious ways.

You’re spread out under him, legs trembling, body already gone boneless from orgasm after orgasm. You’ve stopped counting. It doesn’t matter. Caleb never stops at one. Or two. Or three.

His thick cock is buried in you, slow and steady, dragging against the places that make your vision flicker. One hand cradles your jaw; his real one, calloused and gentle. The other, his metal arm; is between your legs, thumb pressed to your clit, writing his name into you in soft, pretty patterns.

C. A. L. E. B.

Over and over again. Cold metal, careful pressure, devastating control.

Your skin is flushed, sticky with sweat. Your hands tremble where they grip at his broad shoulders, desperately trying to ground yourself. One of your legs is hooked over his waist, the other shaking helplessly against the mattress, every muscle twitching with the tension he’s building back up in you.

You're crying now, sobbing openly, your voice gone hoarse from how much you’ve moaned and gasped and begged. But he’s not stopping. He’s adoring. Reverent.

“Fuck Pips,” he groans, voice wrecked with how hard he’s holding back. “You’re everything.”

His thumb strokes another letter and you keen, your hips jerking. “Can’t—Caleb—too much, it’s too—”

“Yes, you can,” he coos, leaning in to kiss your parted lips. His tongue traces yours, measured and possessive, like he has all the time in the world. “You can take it. You are taking it. You always do.”

The flex of his hips deepens; calculated, but heavier now. Like he’s letting himself feel just a little more, just enough to tip you further. You feel him everywhere: inside you, against your clit, in the weight of his chest brushing yours, the tremble in his breath. He smells like sweat and heat and you. “You wanted this, remember? You asked for it. And you know I’d never say no to you.”

You grip at his back, your nails catching on the seam where flesh meets metal. He shudders; groans low in his throat, more sound than word.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, burying his face in your neck. “So pretty when you cry for me. So sweet, you were made for this. Made for me.”

You weep at the reminder—how easy it is with him. How good he is to you. The worship, the rapture, the indulgence of it all. The fact that you don’t even have to earn it. You just have to be.

His robotic hand doesn’t falter. Ever. Each movement is exactly what you need, no more, no less. Meticulous. Devoted.

You can feel it building again; your body tightening, coiling, heat spilling down your spine like liquid fire. Your walls flutter around him, desperate and close and so overstimulated. He feels it. He always does.

His voice drops into a growl, desperate and reverent all at once.

“Give it to me. C’mon, Pips—give it to me. Let me feel you fall apart.”

And you do.

You come again; shaking, sobbing, gripping him like a lifeline. Your cries fill the room, gasping and broken, and he keeps moving, keeps whispering, like your pleasure is something holy.

He was bullying your poor sloppy cunt, but in the sweetest way a man could: just enough to make it mean something, dragging it out so every pulse of pleasure felt personal. A gift he was determined to give you again and again, until you had no words left but his name.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “That’s my girl. Mine. Always.”

Only when you’ve gone limp beneath him, body completely undone, does he finally let himself go. His hips stutter, cock twitching deep inside you as he moans your name like a prayer. He stays buried, locked to you, his metal hand stroking your thigh now, pleasant and patient.

He kisses your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your swollen mouth.

“Breathe, baby,” he says softly, like he didn’t just wreck you with love and machinery and absolute, overwhelming need. “You did so good. My pretty girl.”

And even though you’re trembling, tears drying on your cheeks, the only thing you can do is nod: because it’s true.

Caleb would do anything for you. Break himself in half. Hold you together. Build you a new world with his bare hands.

And you would let him.

Because no one loves like he does.

No one ever will.

[bluetoothinmyveins]

Computer robot girl who flashes fake warnings and errors just to get your attention. You look over just to see the corner of an error message pop up, but when you actually go and look, everything is fine. She's whirring and spinning like she should and there hasn't even been a device issue.

But it keeps happening. You brush it off at first, thinking it's just.. something that'll go away. You give her a restart. And it keeps happening. You fish through all her external cables, checking each inch of them to make sure they're perfect. Nothing seems wrong.

But she keeps throwing up warning signs. You cannot figure out what is wrong. But you do notice she does throw them less when you're checking her cords. You assume, of course, one of her ports might be damaged.

And then when you pry her open, finally, she gets quiet with those errors and notifications. You think it was just.. something making contact, or something. It seems fine.

She gets worse, though. She's spitting out error upon error upon error every time you try and use her. She will not let you get anything done.

Until you get into her again. Fish around in her insides and then you realize. She's totally played you. She got you hook, line, and sinker. She's putting out genuine error messages now. She's into you rooting around in her insides. That's all she wanted; your devout, sole attention.

[salemlunaa]

⚠︎ IMPORTANT REMINDER: you’re not useless or pathetic for wanting to use methods ⚠︎

i personally don’t obsess over them all too much but there are such cute ones that i’ll use just for fun (eg @luckykiwiii101’s distraction method and @hrrtshape’s anti method to name two i absolutely adore)

if you want to touch your bedroom wall 3 times if you think that will help, go and use that as a placebo. As long as you remember that these methods are lifeless and it’s all YOU, you’re fine. Society has taught us some bullshit, that we need to work hard to get things, even subliminally, like in the media for example movies, where you’re stirred in the right direction to root for the hardworking “underdog” and hate the person that gets everything handed to them. We are taught that’s the right way: effort. And getting desires without trying is a sign of being spoiled or just too good to be true.

This mindset has been ingrained into our conscious and subconscious mind, so it isn’t going to be the easiest thing for most people to unlearn. So although we can of course change our mindset in a second, let’s be patient with others.

And let’s keep that in mind and be kind to those still figuring it out. Of course methods aren’t need and all we need is to just decide, but let’s be respectful in conveying that message.

Methods can be cutesy and fun and can be great placebos (although not needed), you aren’t pathetic for doing psych k, robotic affirming or anything else. Just remember those methods would be nothing without YOU, not the other way around.

You should also remember that you were once in their shoes whether that’s something you’re up for admitting or not, the occasional tough love post is fine, and can be appreciated by many, i’ve made many tough love posts for people who genuinely needed that cold glass of water thrown in their face, but being a regular bitch will never be a cute look, you’re just driving people away and giving loser idk 🤷‍♀️

let’s behave ourselves…. and remember you’re interacting with actual human beings

[r3starttt]

GHOSTFACE CAITVI

CW: strap. oral. gun play. dom caitlyn <3

TAGLIST | KINKTOBER: @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @prwttiestbunny @visobsession @kiki5gigi @thesevi0lentdelights @femininologies | this is for @clairoscharm ily

“Drop it,” you hear from behind, a steady, robotic command cutting through the silence, ordering you to release the small blade clenched in your hand. “So obedient now, aren’t we?” Another figure steps closer, hands gripping your arms just above the elbows, holding you firm. You struggle, twisting and squirming to break free, but your efforts are useless. “Come on, pretty girl, make this easy, would you?” Their voice drips with amusement as they slide a mask over your face. Darkness closes in, leaving you with only faint, blurry shapes.

“Lay her down,” commands the first voice, steady and in control. You hear the door shut, the lock clicking into place as you stumble awkwardly, guided back to the mattress you’d been on just moments before. You’d only been doing your job—a special request, yes, but nothing unusual—until she’d walked in. Tall, tanned, with her hair in a messy bun and a body honed to perfection. Her hands on your hips, firm and cold, had made you forget everything but the way she looked at you with those warm, shining eyes, her lips plump and inviting.

The sound of movement snaps you back to the present, and you feel the weight pressing against your back, pinning you down. A metallic click and the chill of handcuffs bite into your wrists, leaving no room to fight. “Be a good girl and do what we say,” the other voice demands, a gun pressing to your temple. They flip you over, forcing you into a seated position, and as the mask is pulled from your face, you hear your name spoken, taunting.

“The fuck—” you start, but Caitlyn silences you with a calculated glare, her gun aimed right between your collarbones. “You owe us,” Vi purrs, her head tilting as she watches with a playful smirk. You glance at Caitlyn, hoping for some sense of restraint or reason, but all you find is her finger poised on the trigger, pointed directly at your heart. "Open."

Your breath raises the gun up and down whole you try to think of anything to do, but it only ends with your legs wide open for them. Vi's hands are fast over your legs, barely touching your inner thighs as she makes space for her to fit between your legs. Caitlyn’s nails dig into your skin as she pushes you into the matresss.

You feel the cold and harsh of the gun between your thighs, they exchange the handle quickly before Caitlyn can take off her mask. Her hair is made into a messy bun that quickly fades to let her hair cascade on the sides of her face. "Oh- Fuck-" Caitlyn is quick to shush you, her finger between your lips and her eyebrows into a subtle raise to warn you. The tip of the gun makes enough friction over your clit you make you buck your hips closer. "Look at that..." Caitlyn’s attention was brought to your pussy, Vi's hands occupied with her gun, glistening with your wet. "Go on." she nods to you. "Just like that... so pretty." the tone lowers just the slightest, not enough to become a whisper.

You hump at your own rithym, watching on your side the tall figure sitting on a couch next to you. Her legs open wide as she manspreads and her black cloves disappear under her arms as she crosses them.

Vi kneels properly, opening your legs wider and adding enough pressure on your knees with both her elbows to keep you stay still. Your mouth opens enough to let out quiet whines, little prayers to give them the full show you'd give- just this time a bit too real.

"Stop- mhm." Caitlyn commands again, exchanging a quiet communication with Vi who's quick on standing and burning the black robe covering her toned body up enough to let the strap peek through. "You ready baby? yeah, you are... oh fuck-" her hands grip tightly behind your thighs, spreading your pussy apart to fill you in with the length of her cock. It slides in with so much ease, and the sight is as obscene as the wet of it.

Caitlyn stands up again, her boots loud against the floor with each step closer she gives. Her hands come to pick at her gun, a proud on her face as she notices the wet.

She makes her way in between, her lips pressing into Vi's with disgusting fervor and tender- just like only she could. Her fingers hover over her gloves as she takes them off, tossing them next to you along the weapon. The cold of her digits cup Vi's cheek bones into small circles, rubbed in a comfort one could only get from the Kiramman. And you stare, hoping to touch, to be part of it- but it doesn't happen and you just have to wait with the bruising grip on your thighs and the strap barely moving inside you.

"Doing so good..." Vi's eyes turn into puppy- like at the praise, which only makes Caitlyn prouder, hungrier. She steps behind, holding her tits over the fabric while her other hand slips over your clit to rub small circles over. She's got you both a mess for her with little nothings and gentle brushes.

Vi thrusts her hips slowly, humping against caitlyn as she does. Her nipples are ridiculously sensitive and the strap hits her clit just right. Withing each thrust you whine too, and fuck it drives them insane.

You'll truly do anything they ask, after all you do owe them, more than one.

"Yeah? that feels good?" Kiramman mocked you both, a grin on her face before she sucked on Vi's neck who was already staring to whine, one of her hands coming to your breasts while the other kept steady behind your leg, holding it up and sprayed for her to admire at your pussy.

You were overwhelmingly stimulated. Nipples sensitive under the pinching touch of Vi. Your clit kissed by the pads of Caitlyns fingers and your walls clenching deliciously tight around Vi's cock. And the sight in front of you so pretty. Dark eyes closed shut, nipples that were seen through the black fabric, teeth holding it to let the smallest sight of her toned abdomen while Caitlyn kissed on the gentle skin, never moving her eyes from you.

"Good girl." She whispered to Vi before leaving her side to come to you. Your pussy now only for Vi to take.

"Open, just like that." and you were sucking on her fingers- gagging at it. “gets tighter when she's scared.” Vi managed to breathe while she sinked inside you, holding your hips in place as the fabric fell over your bodies. "Oh I know..." The blue haired purred, admiring how good you took her, how pretty the saliva dripped on her fingers as she trusted at a slower speed than Vi.

"We've tried so hard to be gentle for you, but you just have to be fucking insistent, mhm? think you can hide for long and pretend you've got this on your own?” Caitlyn’s fingers rubbed on your clit, overstimulating your drenched pussy. You shocked your head with desperation, gagging mid way as she sinked her fingers deeper inside you. Vi's thrusts became deeper and harsher too. "You belong to us, to me. Remember that."

[sick-sad-world-revolution-now]

I knew about top "nullification" surgery where even the nipples are erased from your body, but today I learned about bottom "nullification" surgery. When you think you've seen all the ways in which patriarchy exerts its power, you find another one. Of course it was someone who's female and identifying as non-binary who did it. I saw the pictures. She's in her early 20s, had the option to get the nerves out (so not being able to feel anything down there) but at the last moment was convinced by her mom to keep them. Still, that surgery consists of sewing everything shut except a small hole to urinate. This is the "modern" FGM, the "everything is a choice" option and they (surgeons and people who support this) will try to draw you as the villain for pointing out the issues before ever questioning the ethic of such surgeries. If you're asexual then your sexual organs won't force you to have sex, you can live without using your vagina for sex or delivering babies for that matter. Your body is not a customisable machine from which you leave out the parts that you don't like at some point in your life. The hegemony of capitalism (which dehumanises humans and try to make robots out of us) coupled with patriarchy is what made this horror possible.

You can have a been a young girl raped by a man and getting deeply traumatised for it to the point you want nothing to do with your body anymore, and greedy surgeons will take advantage of this distress and clear ptsd. I am full of rage. I won't ever stop fighting for women's liberation and having this as my priority when the situation for girls and women regardless of how they identify and everywhere around the world is this terrible.

[dreamer2503]

Finally, after almost two years, I found what really works for me.

I finally learned and understood what truly helps me manifest everything I want. I'm sharing this because it might help someone who is in the same situation I was in—until yesterday. So, here’s my story with manifestation.

First, during the pandemic, I was a Law of Attraction girl. I tried a lot of methods and techniques, stayed positive every second of the day, but nothing seemed to work. I also discovered shifting during that time, so I've known about shifting since 2020. I tried everything, but nothing worked. I had a lucid dream here and there, but never experienced a real shift to a different reality. For a long time, I believed nothing would ever work.

Years later, I discovered non-dualism, which actually made things worse because I didn’t understand it and thought I was failing. Then, I learned about the Law of Assumption, which I felt much more comfortable with and found easier to understand than non-dualism. But again, I tried everything, and nothing seemed to work. I even felt anxious using techniques like robotic affirmations—but I kept doing them over and over.

I realized I was stuck in a very specific cycle: I’d start trying to manifest something, already thinking it would take forever to show up in the 3D—or maybe not show up at all. By the third or fourth day, I’d start to feel demotivated, anxious, frustrated, and sad because I wasn’t seeing results in the 3D.

This week was tough. I felt frustrated with manifestation and shifting again, and I also got a bad grade in college. Out of desperation, I went back to robotic affirmations. But then I stopped. Yesterday, I took a moment to reflect and asked myself: what actually helps me?

That’s when I realized that every time I had manifested something almost instantly, it was because I used just one affirmation and then let it go. I completely forgot about it. That’s how I manifested my brother (yes, I manifested my younger brother), that’s how I manifested my dog, and yesterday, that’s how I manifested a message I had been waiting for.

Now I understand what the bloggers mean when they say it’s only up to you—that YOU are the key. I finally see how unique each of our journeys is. I was so focused on what worked for others that I didn’t even consider what worked for me. I wanted to be like those people who affirm all day and get everything they want, or those who completely ignore the 3D. But in reality, the 3D actually helps me manifest, because it helps me let go—it distracts me, and then the manifestation shows up (like the message I wanted, which came the same day).

So, my advice is: look within. Forget about the techniques, the methods, the meditations. Focus on yourself. Focus on what works for you, on what has worked in the past. That helped me so much. I feel such relief knowing what works for me—I finally know exactly what to do now.

I hope this helps someone out there. Please keep going. Don’t give up. You have so much to do in this universe, and you deserve everything you want.

P.S.: Sorry if anything is still off—English is my second language.

[muntitled]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader

Summary: "Kylo was nothing if not a sadist,"

Warnings: Language, WarPrisoner!Reader, Toxicity, Weaponizing Hux, Humiliation, God Complex, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smut +18 (Minors DNIA, DEAD DOVE FIC, Dark fic, Sadism, Masochism, Inexperienced!Kylo, Ownership Kink, Dry humping, Forced sex, Spitting, CNC, Dubious Consent, Massive Degradation Kink, Inappropriate Use of Force, Choking Kink, Size Kink, Impact Play, Groping, Breast Play, Premature Orgasm, Controlled Orgasm, Dom/Sub themes, Dom!Kylo, Sub!Reader, Brat Tamer!Kylo,;Bratty!Reader, Slight!Exhibition Kink, Humiliation Kink, Inappropriate Mind Reading, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Mentions of Rape, Fingering, Rough Sex, Dacryphilia, Gagging, Subspace.

Do not read this if you're incredibly sensitive to violent imagery. If this doesn't make sense don't say anything or i'll cry <3

As Hux walks diligently ahead of you, you could not tell by his tense shoulders and his palms clasped behind his back that he was following the duties of a madman.

While he escorts you, Hux thinks back to his slip-up with Ren.

The way he shouldn't have mentioned your name in a comprehensive report about the overall running of the Starkiller. The way he should've known how dangerous Kylo is when it comes to anyone taking even the vaguest of interest in playing with his toys.

"Despite having the accolades of an established pilot for the resistance," Hux had said moments earlier when Kylo was pacing up and down his private chamber, "Your prisoner refuses to put any of her skills to use aboard the Starkiller. She's essentially useless dark matter," He uttered his words rather clumsily. As if forgetting he was reporting to a beastly excuse of a man.

Hux only realises his mistake when Kylo stops his various pacing to turn slightly. His unmasked head tilts to the side as he advances on Hux in a low, large gait. Everything about the boy being so unnaturally large.

"My prisoner?" He steps closer, "Or the First Order's?"

Kylo's laugh appears unnatural without the mask. Not any less intimidating but certainly, frighteningly human.

"You act as if my will is not synonymous with that of the First Order, general," Kylo's blood runs fucking cold at the thought, "You insinuate that I keep her here out of my own free will,"

"Well, we all know how much a boy fancies his toys," Hux's degradation causes Kylo's Adam's apple to bob and a deep frown settles over the boy’s face. Whatever weakness Hux was accusing him of, it rattled the foundations of his already fragile ego and Hux smirked.

"Go tell her I wanna see her," the first command left Kylo's lips in a fairly controlled and monotonous manner. The second however... "FUCKING NOW!"

Robotic inclination bleeds from the mask of the stormtroopers “Yes Sir-”

Without sparing the stormtroopers so much as a single glance, Kylo spat, "Not you, fucking degenerates," Kylo stares Hux down as he steps towards him. His voice is ice cold. "I want you to summon her," he takes immense pleasure in the way Hux's smile drops.

Kylo has observed the glances Hux throws your way and it makes his fucking stomach turn. He's seen the uncomfortable leering and the lecherous thoughts. Kylo was nothing if not a sadist. Humiliating Hux using the object of his desires.

He wants you and that makes Kylo want you even more... Violently so

"Where are you taking me?"

You could feel the rest of the crew watching your every movement as you trailed behind General Hux like you were compelled to do so by some unseen leather leash. You cannot help but feel as though you have done something very bad and very naughty.

You try to rid yourself of these thoughts immediately.

Perhaps he was taking you to see the vermin underneath the mask.

That thought should not sprout such a deep desire within you. Kylo was your captor and yet, he fascinated you more than anything ever could.

"At least slow the fuck down," You breath out, trying by all means to evade all eye contact with curious onlookers.While you walk you try to keep your head high and appear unaffected by their piercing glares. Every stormtrooper, navigator, pilot- even down to the measly technicians all keep their eyes trained on you and you glare back. Leering your head forward with narrowed eyes because being held captive on the Starkiller was punishment enough. You would never allow yourself to be intimidated by the judgemental stares.

"Do you ever plan on disclosing our destina-"

You're interrupted by a sharp and loud hiss before two doors part. Your eyebrows furrow before you're dragged into the chamber, quite literally against your will. You did not wish to get acquainted with any more rooms on the Starkiller. Hoping that one of your comrades in the resistance might have saved you long before you ever had to make this ship your dwelling place. But you've only crawled deeper into the Starkiller's core and you find yourself here, standing before him in his black cowl with his hands clasped behind his back.

The room is as lifeless as the rest of the vessel. The bed, colourless and hard. The only signs of vibrance is the east window depicting a slab of stars in hyperspace.

"I am told you've made yourself fiercely unlikable in the flight deck.” Kylo says, completely ignoring your slightly shocked experience at seeing him without his helmet.

“That's what this is then?” You turn briefly to make eye contact with Hux before turning to Kylo with one arched brow, “I'm being scolded now?”

“You're insolent when given any orders,” he oaces before you while Hux stands behind you by the door, “You disobey at every given turn and you're resistant. Vexingly so.”

“How clever of you, it seems as though you'd only just discovered a key characteristic from a member of the resistance.” You say with a smirk, “Clever, Clever boy."

“It's that mouth of yours that's gonna get your head slain from your very shoulders.” Kylo advances you like a midnight storm and you fight to stand your ground.

“I have grown terribly bored of this place,” You say, “Perhaps even death might be more eventful then whatever you are, Kylo.”

Before Hux is able to make his escape Kylo grabs at your throat, encircling his hand around your skin like a vice until he is forcing you to look at Hux ahead of you.

"This is what you want?" He isn't speaking to you but to Hux, pushing your cheeks together in a painful display of humiliation. "This is what's been plaguing that mind of yours-"

"I've no time for this-"

The very last thing Hux is able to see before he leaves Kylo's quarters, is your frightened eyes and Kylo looming behind you. A mere mouse being imprisoned by a God.

You make the mistake of thinking that Hux's absence might soften Kylo's resolve, but your time as his captive should have let you know that there was nothing soft about this man. Nothing at all.

"You should be grateful, you know that?" His lips graze your head and you're suddenly hyper aware of his proximity.

You're hyper aware of the closed metal doors that were probably being guarded by a pair of heavily armed stormtroopers. There is no escaping the clutches of this monster behind you.

And yet; you still find yourself scoffing, "I should be grateful?" You ask, hoping to assimilate every shred of confidence you had left, "I should be grateful to be your prisoner-" you wince when his grip on your jaw tightens and he's wrenching your face until you're craning your neck backwards to face him.

Large, looming, and completely fucking livid.

"You should be grateful that you're still fucking breathing, you brat-"

And then, a very strange thing occurs.

Since the moment Kylo had wrangled you off your home planet, you had sworn to be nothing but defiant. In honour of everything you stood for, you would never let him see you weak and yet here you are, carelessly allowing the faintest of whimpers to slip through quivering lips.

The sound confuses Kylo initially. In fact, he cranes your head back further, not caring whether you were comfortable or not as he bends down, appearing to inspect your mouth for that peculiar sound further. He squeezes your cheeks lightly, prodding the round tissues of fat as if fervently trying to search for whatever button might allow for that little sound to spill from your lips again.

"How completely and utterly curious-"

"You're fucking hurting my neck-" the fire returns and with it, comes your will to wrench your face out of his grip. You're only able to get free because he lets you and you know this.

"What..." Kylo bends even lower towards you and you turn your head to face the blank wall ahead of you. Evading eye contact with this man was nothing if not crucial. "What was that sound you just made-"

"It appears as though hearing nothing but the cries of utter doom and damnation has defamiliarized you to the sound of pleasure, Ren-"

Your breath is wiped clean from your throat not even a second later when you steal a look downwards at a gloved hand interlocking itself around your throat once more. Seemingly his favourite place.

"All the praises that could fall from your mouth..." Kylo drawls before pressing himself firmly against your backside, "All that you could say to worship the hand that feeds you and you still choose to be insolent-"

You try to escape his death grip but he doesn't let you out this time around. All you can do is be thankful that he had the decency to allow you to breathe.

"That's all you fucking know how to do right," Kylo's lips are at your ear and your knees buckle. "Insolence. Insolence. Insolence." Your legs give out, but before you're able to topple to the ground in a puddle of your own lustful perversions, his other hand curls around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his front.

“Today's the day you fucking obey," he whispers, "Understand?"

"I-I-”

Kylo is not sure how he does it, or why he does it, or where he got the understanding to do it, but his hand makes its very slow descent from your collarbone, to the spot right above your pillowy breasts. Clad in nothing but your knee length tunic, a garment stitched with fibres indigenous to your homeplanet, you suddenly feel incredibly naked and incredibly exposed. What was once an act of rebellion, is now your undoing.

"There is a way to make you disobey isn't there?" You can hear him becoming excited. "Every cattle has their price. What's yours?" Before you're able to turn and possibly beg for some sort of mercy, he's already in there. The stuff Kylo sees digging around in your mind, is enough to have him staring off into hyperspace. His eyes are trained on nothing at all as he rapes your most memories and most private desires. All while drawing you impossibly closer, until his mouth was buried in your hair and his hand was closing around your left breast. You squirm underneath him until finally, he's released from your stupor.

You did not dare turn around to look at him, in fear of seeing his dark eyes dilated with enlightenment.

"How barbaric." He whispers. "That's what I have to do in order to get you to listen to me,"

"I-I don't know what you're-"

"Open your mouth." Before you're ever able to interject even a single word, Kylo's hand is digging into the skin of your jaw, "Do I have to do it for you- open your mouth-" He wrenches your mouth open and cranes your neck back once more.

"That's it," You're absolutely frightened to see the violence that has darkened those irises. This is the look that's shielded behind the mask during times of battle. This is that look no one got to see.

Yet here you were.

"You're so fucking filthy, you know that?" You're nodding before your brain is aware of it, "You're a filthy, perverted little creature," one by one, your inhibitions slipped away from you until you could feel yourself become completely and utterly dumb for him. Your mind becomes a tabula rasa as Kylo bends his heavy frame downwards, spitting directly into your open mouth. There it is. That whimper he wanted to hear so badly.

You're not even aware of his hand reaching around your front until he's parting your legs with determination. "Is this where you want me?" Your mouth hangs open and you look up at him glassy doe eyes as he cups your drenched heat. Kylo locks his full lips and presses his front impossibly closer to your backside. "This whole time I've needed to get you in line, and the answers been here this whole fucking time?" A gloved hand swipes your underwear to the side and the wind is completely knocked out of you when Kylo pushes his fingers in immediately. He fucks his fingers into you with zero restraint and zero preparation, and the roughness has your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your skull as you grow limp in his grip. Lucky for you he's so large, lucky for you he might as well be a stone wall behind you, letting you lean against him with your long legs spread wide for his absolute assault.

"Look at me." He says, holding you against him by your throat while his index and middle finger violate your soaking cunt. Despite his orders you're still a drunken, blundering mess with half lidded eyes, promising to keep you locked away in your pleasure.

"If you don't fucking look at me, I'll stop and you'll suffer." He squeezes your clit quite painfully, immediately bringing you out of hedonistic stupor-

"FUCK- WHAT THE FUCK-"

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks, with a note of cockiness that had your brows furrowing.

"Are you stupid?! Of course I don-" before the curse could even escape your mouth in its entirety, Kylo's blocking out your airways. You fight to scratch at his gloved grip around your throat but his grip is fucking metallic.

"Look at how docile you look when you're not running your mouth,"

Your insides were screaming for oxygen, yet your hips rut against his hand. Kylo slyly adds a third finger inside your slippery cunt. "What a whore," he whispers, causing you to fuck forward against his hand, nearly humping yourself to completion as the blood flow to your brain seems to stop completely. You need oxygen and you need to cum. You just don't know which you need more.

"You're nothing but fucking filth-"

Your mouth opens to let a moan escape but it never does, and Kylo watches your struggle with a pained expression of his own.

"F-Fuck, I've never seen anything so vile-"

You were slipping. Whether it was into unconsciousness or an orgasm you couldn't tell. "If you pass out I will fuck you," he whispers, "There's not fucking escaping me-"

And in that very moment, Kylo unlocks the invisible grip on your airways and suddenly you can breathe and cum. Almost immediately you're slipping into a violent, damn near supernatural orgasm that has you seeing every star in the known galaxy.

"F-FUCK- oh my-" You're rutting against his hand, tongue lolling out all while Kylo continues to fuck his fingers into your cunt.

"That's it," He whispers, "Cum for me, you useless fucking whore-" Every vile sliver of degradation causes a fresh wave of pleasure to roll through you until the first droplets of tears are rolling down your cheek.

"Don't fucking do that," he whispers, pulling you closer than ever, "Don't fucking do that unless you want me to fuck you right now-"

He watches the tears roll down your face and absolutely loses it. Now suddenly aware of his own cock aching in his pants.

"K-Kylo please-" You try to push his hand out of you but to no avail. "It's too much-"

But his eyes are shut, and your body is overcome by wave after wave of electrifying shivers. The pleasure quickly bleeds into the pain of being so heavily overstimulated but Kylo is lost in his own world now. He clutches you impossibly closer, mumering obscenities into your hair as he ruts against your ass and you fucking pray for it to be over. Your pussy is fucking spent and yet he's still keeping his hand there, as if driven by his own need to cum.

"You stupid fucking slut- look what you made me do-" He's rutting against your ass, eyes squeezed shut as his hips stutter, "F-Fuck-" the whimper that breaks his voice is utterly intoxicating and you find yourself slipping into another dry orgasm as Kylo pushes against you, cumming in his pants with various expletives falling from his pillowy lips. When your orgasm falls you beg him to let go of you and when he does, you topple to the floor.

Never in your life have you felt so weak. So spent. So utterly used.

Kylo does not spare you a glance when he turns around. "This is where you will reside from now on," he says with finality. Careful to let his voice relay how utterly broken he feels. Just as broken as you.

[suguru-getos]

Could you write a continuation of yandere satosugu where the reader lived and they try everything to help her get better and care for her?

| making up for mistakes | yandere satosugu x reader |

-> continuation of the first part: link 🔗

you had survived the almost suicide attempt you so carefully & yet so carelessly attempted. you were sure you weren’t getting up after this. damn it you made sure to hit your head hard, you could see blanks, you could see stars in your eyes until it all faded to a peaceful nothing-ness.

now, you’re awake again. nothing hurts. you know they must’ve told their friend shoko to aid in your injuries. you feel like you’ve woken up from a long slumber. unwanted as it may be… it does make you feel eerily refreshed. you stretch your limbs from the bed, they’re going to kill you for this. kill you for hampering with their property. oh well — at this point you’re fine with it. what’s it going to do? hurt you. pain is all there is they could ever offer anyways. maybe you can scream out and wish it gets over. that’s all you set your mind to.

you look to the side, the curtains are open and there is a little drizzle of snow. it brings a smile to your face. what if you hadn’t been kidnapped? it would’ve been so fun to hop into one of the lovely cafes you like & order some hot cocoa. put both your hands and wrap them around the ceramic of the hot cup and exhale in utter relaxation of the aroma the sweet cafe has to offer. oh… happy days.

its nauseating what your life is now, wrapping a blanket around yourself and checking down below. you are wearing clothes, decent clothes… not the sultry, slutty ones that satoru forces you to wear. you feel like you could throw up when the reminder occurs again. beaten up like you were nothing but an animal, throwing up in pain and anxiety--

"there we go! princess! awake! oh my god!" satoru comes in and hugs you tightly, his bulky arms wrapping against you, he doesn't let your mind have the time to panic. besides, satoru was... not the one who inflicted you that pain. even though he did nothing about it, in a moment of pure misery, your mind would latch on to him for comfort. "baby- you scared daddy, please don't do that ever again. fuck! i thought i lost you." you could hear the heartbeats on your snow haired man, they were ragged and reminded of the same panic you once bore.

"sorry." your eyes lack all emotions, just a soft murmur escaping you. the haunting realization that you were alive was eating you up. even so, it was your soul that had died. it's the dejected way you answered that makes satoru panic even more. immediately at your knees, leaning against your thighs and mumbling soft apologies, tears wetting your skin. "please baby, I'm so sorry, i should never have let that happen... you did a mistake that's all! you- you- pissed us off." he shakes his head, hugging you tightly.

your hands robotically landed across his hair, caressing. "it's okay, i did wrong, i understand."

your responses were making him nauseous, he hated seeing you in pain, but suguru always says its something that's needed. why is it needed? you're not an animal, are you? the ways with which satoru and suguru try to 'discipline' their toy they are delusional enough to call their lover is insane.

"i got breakfast, little one." now, your heart sinks. you hear the voice of the man who did this to you, mothering, now that his rage is faded into pure, eviscerating guilt. "you have no idea the joy it gives me seeing you awake." suguru hums, and you latch onto satoru, hugging him tightly. satoru's heart skips a beat. this was not the first time you had reached out to him, yet, you did it by your own. it gives him a sick sense of protectiveness. "he wouldn't do anything to ya baby, suguru loves you too." he reminds, looking at a devastated suguru.

"please don't hurt yourself again, angel" suguru hums, leaning in and kissing your forehead. it makes you sick to your stomach, how they treat you right now. you know that whatever you did yielded no results. and they are ever so careful about the same. you're pretty sure you'd have either of them by your side at all times.

"let's go and eat, suguru's made your favorite!" satoru chirps, happily holding you princess-style and going to the dining area. your eyes wandered to the other room on the way, the same room where this all happened, it's making you panic internally. the grotesque reminder of how they treated you. you're about to throw up again.

as soon as satoru puts you down, you run to throw up in disgust, nothing comes out except a few drops of water. your stomach is empty as is. a large, looming hand caresses your back. "I'm sorry, angel. please relax." suguru-- it's suguru...

"i'm sorry." you answered, "i am so sorry." you nodded to get back to the dining area, you should know better than to be with satoru. its not like suguru wouldn't do anything he wants anyways... you'd just like to have some comfort over it.

luckily for you, the breakfast went fine, you were eating quietly, while satoru just observed you. how uncomfortable you looked, the subtle shift in your demeanor. every tiny thing. suguru is essentially doing the same, gazing at your way and observing you. "you look beautiful." suguru comments, and you force a smile from the deepest pits of your psyche. "thank you, suguru."

you know he's ticked off, you need to call them 'daddy' and you're here, addressing them by their first names. sigh... they just have to help you heal, there isn't anything they can do about it really. they pushed you this far, and they should make up for it.

however, as days turn into weeks, satoru and suguru are forced to face the haunting realization that your mental and physical health is worsening. you barely eat, barely talk... you just, stare into the nothingness of empty spaces. satoru has avoided missions to take care of you. he is by your side, sleeps next to you, kisses your forehead, helps you take a shower. while earlier, you tried to at least pretend and work with it. answer however you could, talk to them, fake your smiles, now its nothing. you barely talk.

this time, satoru has a mission to take care of, but suguru is the one who's spending time with you. gently placing you on the bathtub, caressing your forearm, massaging it, decorating it with petals. "there we go little girl, there we go. feels nice?" he coos, and when you don't respond, sighs weakly. he wishes he could at least hear something out of you. when he sees you immersed in auto-pilot, he hums by himself; "yes, yes it is." he has to talk to himself in hopes that its you talking to him. "you know, me and satoru... we were thinking a trip to Italy sounds nice, or maybe Paris.." you used to love travelling, he hopes that would utter out a response from you. NOTHING comes out of you however. that makes suguru's heart break a little, "or maybe, anywhere that you like." he hums, sighing.

"angel?" he asks softly, leaning in and kissing your neck, maybe that would at least earn some leaning back. your resistance...

none.

"talk to me for fucks sake!" suguru snarls, glaring hard at you. you don't even flinch at that, contrary to your earlier flinching and tweaking. a sigh escapes him and then comes bubbling tears. he has truly fucked you up. the haunting realization finally hits him. he can't live with it anymore... it's choking the very fiber of his being.

the rest of the shower passes by in a haze, and suguru is quiet, tears dripping from his face. "what should i do so that you become normal again?" he asks again, pouting and begging with his eyes. no response...

he gets up after tucking you in bed. the dark circles in your eyes are an explicit example of how less you're sleeping. sometimes you wake up with irritating nightmares, screaming and crying. that's the only moment when satoru and suguru are welcomed by your affections.

suguru sighs, he needs to win you this time. or maybe... what's that called? stockholm syndrome?

or maybe, he needs to discuss with satoru about erasing your memory...

or maybe, he needs a curse that can shove your memory off and then they can date you.. from scratch...

either way, they're not leaving you. anytime soon.

[girlgenius1111]

contact

r has never been one for physical contact. she doesn't realize what she's missing until she does. barça x touch starved reader

-------

Your teammates had figured it out pretty early on. You didn’t like to be touched. It wasn’t personal, and it wasn’t something you really liked to acknowledge. It was obvious, though, in the way you tensed up whenever anyone went to hug you, or the way you sidestepped the bulk of the celebrations on the pitch. You didn’t like physical contact, and that was fine. Your teammates could respect it, even if it wasn’t what they were used to at all. The majority of them were Spanish, after all. 

It never occurred to anyone that perhaps you didn’t dislike physical contact, you just weren’t used to it. At all. You’d grown up in an incredibly not affectionate household. Your parents didn’t hug you, and you never learned anything different from that. It was hardly your only issue with them, and it didn’t even occur to you to consider it an issue. 

You’d felt like this your whole life. You thought everyone did. You thought everyone felt this empty space inside of them, longing for something you just couldn’t quite put your finger on. You ignored the way that the infrequent pats on the back and high fives seemed to frustrate this part of you more. You decided it was a negative reaction to touch, rather than one that begged for more. 

Like everyone, though, you had a breaking point. And you’d been approaching it for a long time. 

------

It wasn’t enough that you’d had an international break from hell, losing both matches despite you running yourself into the ground for a win. 

It wasn’t enough that you had to see your parents over the break. It wasn’t enough that they were uncaring and dismissive of everything you said, that they treated seeing you like an obligation rather than something they were excited about. 

It had been a long couple weeks, to say the least. And yet, everything you’d dealt with apparently wasn’t enough. 

As the defender plowed into you again, you wondered what you’d done to deserve this. No one had left you alone today. You’d been violently tackled, shoved, pulled, and stepped on more times than you could count today and you were at your limit. Everyone could see it, too, in the way you robotically got to your feet, blinking hard, trying to brush off this blow too. 

You missed Jona’s eyes on you, and the looks he exchanged with his coaching staff. You were supposed to play the full 90, and it was only the 70th minute. It was clear, though, that you couldn’t take any more battering, not that you’d ever admit that. 

When you heard the whistle signaling the subs were allowed to come on, you looked over, a bit surprised to see your number on the screen. You should have been relieved, probably, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting the team down. You jogged off, accepting the high fives Mariona offered you, though you ignored the way the contact almost brought you to tears right there. 

You walked over to Jona, as he’d called you over, even though you wanted nothing more than to disappear into the locker room and have a few minutes to yourself. 

“Are you okay?” He asked kindly. “Do you need to get checked out?” 

“No, I’m fine. Just a bit sore.” You dismissed. 

Jona sent you a sympathetic smile. “You can head back in if you want. Let someone know if you need ice.” 

With that, you turned towards the locker room and headed inside. The next hour was something of a blur. You showered and got dressed, before heading out to the bus. You were quick enough that you didn’t have to interact with any of your teammates, and theoretically, you could have let yourself have a few moments. Something inside of you wouldn’t allow that, though. You were forcing yourself not to cry on instinct, but the more you sat by yourself, the worse you felt. About yourself, about how you’d been playing. Everything. It was overwhelming, and the minutes sped by until it could have been minutes or hours. You didn’t really care how long it had been. You just wanted to go home, so you could feel what you needed to feel, all by yourself, like you were supposed to. 

-------

You were too wrapped up in your thoughts, and trying not to cry, to notice that your teammates had started to file onto the bus. Esmee headed for you, both of you preferring to sit in silence on the way back from matches, while some of your teammates preferred to be a bit louder. As she got closer, though, she noticed the way you were sitting, all curled into yourself, practically a ball in your seat, and the way your entire body seemed tense. You were good friends, you and Esmee, but the girl felt wholly unequipped to deal with how upset you seemed. Thinking for a minute, she decided someone else would be able to deal with this better, so she turned around, ignoring the odd looks she got from everyone she’d passed on her way back to you. 

Esmee was still rather shy with the older girls, although they’d been nothing but nice to her. Even though she felt a little awkward, she walked right over to where Alexia was sitting, chatting quietly with Patri. 

“Alexia?” She said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the question but not really sure that she had any other choice. 

The captain turned to her, though, always a bit amused by how nervous she made Esmee, but always careful to not make her feel bad about it. “Hola Esmee.” Alexia greeted with a smile. 

“Hola,” Esmee replied. She looked back at you anxiously, and followed her gaze, sitting up a bit in the seat to look back at you, too. “Um… something isn’t right with her. She seems really upset. I didn’t really know…” 

Alexia’s brows furrowed, mentally cursing herself for not thinking to check on you before now. The team had noticed how tense and off you’d seemed after the international break, but they thought you’d relax after a game back with the team. Clearly not. 

“Thank you, Esmee, I’ll check on her, vale?” 

Esmee nodded gratefully, stepping aside to let Alexia out of her seat, taking an empty one across the aisle. She appreciated that Patri gave her a quiet compliment on the game she’d had, before pulling out her phone, and allowing Esmee the silence that the Spaniard knew she always sought after a match. 

-------

You were still completely oblivious, starting to get a little worried that you were going to cry right there on that bus, as opposed to once you’d arrived home, like you wanted. Crying in front of your teammates was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to avoid it when Alexia slid into the seat next to you. 

“Pequeña? What’s going on?” Alexia asked softly, noticing the way you refused to meet her eyes, your gaze fixed on your hands fidgeting in your lap. 

You shrugged, for a minute unable to speak in fear that a sob would escape instead of words. “Long day.” You managed eventually. 

Alexia nodded slowly. “Long couple weeks, no?” 

“Yeah.” You said, clearing your throat as your voice cracked rather pathetically. 

“Can I do anything?” Alexia asked almost helplessly. You looked so upset, so fragile, and she wasn’t sure how to help without touching you. She knew she always liked a hug after a rough day, but you were so different, and normally shied away from contact like that. 

“I don’t know.” You said, wiping roughly at your face as a few tears escaped, the kindness from your captain not helping you keep it together. You wanted her to be able to help, but you weren’t confident she’d be able to. 

“Do you want some space?” Alexia asked, even if the idea of leaving you alone like this made her want to cry herself. 

You were used to dealing with your emotions yourself, but somehow, at the moment, you weren’t really embarrassed that Alexia was seeing you like this. You weren’t quite sure what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t want her to go. “No, please stay.” 

“Nena… can I give you a hug?” Alexia asked after a minute, in a way that made it clear she wouldn’t be upset no matter how you responded. 

What did you have to lose at this point? You were pretty sure you couldn’t feel worse. So, for once, you did the opposite of what you thought you should do, and nodded hesitantly. 

It was instinctual for Alexia, and surprisingly for you, too. You were tense for just a second when she wrapped her arms around you, gently pulling you in closer to her. After a second, though, your body seemed to move of its own accord, completely melting into the arms of your captain. 

You were crying before you could stop yourself, clinging tightly onto Alexia’s sweatshirt. It wasn’t bad crying, per say. It was cathartic. You thought briefly that this was the safest and most comforted you’d ever felt. Still, you tried to keep the volume down, not wanting to attract attention to the fact that you were sobbing into your captain’s sweatshirt. 

“It’s okay, nena, just let it out.” Alexia whispered, her chin resting on top of your head. She rubbed your back softly, hating the way you trembled against her. She’d never seen you this upset before, but the way you leaned into her told her that this had been coming for a while. It also told her that even though you acted like you hated being touched, that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t sure why you didn’t allow it to happen, but it was clear you had needed it. “You are safe, nena. You are okay.” 

Her words felt like a soft blanket being wrapped around your shivering body, and you felt that empty space inside yourself feel full for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever. 

It made her heart hurt that she hadn’t thought to check on you, really check on you these past couple weeks. She had assumed that because you never talked about how you were feeling, you didn’t need to. She’d never considered that you did want to, and need to, but you were too afraid to do so. She made herself a promise to keep a closer eye on you. And to give you more hugs. 

Even when you’d stopped crying, and the bus had begun to move, Alexia didn’t let go. She kept you firmly in her arms, your head resting on her chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, either, even though you knew you should. 

You couldn’t help but feel sad when the bus pulled into the Barça parking lot. You’d acted completely ridiculously, and something like this could never happen again. You weren’t a child, you were an adult. The thought of removing yourself from your captain’s arms, though, felt physically painful, and you almost wished it hadn’t happened in the first place. Because now you knew what you were missing, and it would be near impossible to not let yourself seek it out again in the future. 

------

You showed up to the recovery session the next day on a mission. You were going to apologize to Alexia for what had happened yesterday, and promise that it wouldn’t happen again. You weren’t going to cry and you were not going to act any differently than normal. You couldn’t let anyone see you as this pathetic person who was barely hanging on. You were strong and capable and independent. You were an adult, and emotions were to be felt by yourself. Hugs were for children, you reminded yourself, and you hadn’t needed one of those in a while. Or maybe, you just hadn’t gotten one in a while. Regardless,  by the end of today, you were dead set on making sure everyone who saw you so upset yesterday would know that it was a one time occurrence. 

Alexia had other plans. You really should have given up immediately upon seeing the determination on her face when she pulled you aside right before the film review session, but you were stubborn if nothing else, and you tried to remain as cool and calm as you could. 

Even when she led you to one of the lounge areas, and took a seat on the couch next to you. Even when she squeezed your shoulder supportively, and all you wanted to do was launch yourself across the couch at her, and curl up against her like you had yesterday. You couldn’t. You couldn’t. 

“I wanted to check on you after yesterday,” Alexia said gently, as if she knew you wanted to avoid this conversation. It didn’t matter that your captain hadn’t seemed to mind yesterday, your behavior still wasn’t okay, not at all. 

“I’m sorry for how I acted. It won’t happen again.” You said stiffly, ignoring the sympathetic expression on Alexia’s face. It made her so sad that you felt you had to apologize for showing emotion. 

“You do not need to be sorry.” Alexia said definitively. “You were upset, it is okay to be upset, pequeña.” 

“I shouldn’t have cried in front of everyone, and I shouldn’t have made you sit with me.” You insisted. 

The older woman frowned. “Why do you think either of those things were not okay?” Alexia wondered, choosing her words very carefully. 

“I am an adult, Alexia, I am not supposed to act like a child.” You argued, not really sure what she wasn’t understanding. 

Alexia knew she wasn’t the most emotionally available person, but she at least knew that it was okay to cry, and it was okay to need comfort sometimes. She wasn’t really sure why you didn’t seem to get that. 

“I do not know who told you that crying and needing comfort is for children, but they are wrong. You can always come to me, or any of the girls, when you are upset, no matter what you need. None of us will think any less of you. We are teammates, and friends, and we are here for you. Understand?” 

You were surprised at her words, and more surprised that they made sense. You knew who had told you those things, and you wondered why you had believed them on this, when you were normally so careful to take what they said with a grain of salt. Very suddenly, you realized you couldn’t remember the last time your parents had given you a hug, and things started to make more sense. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for you, realizing that something they had done was not normal, but this was a realization that made you a bit more emotional than the others. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to annoy anyone.” You replied quietly, looking down at your feet and away from Alexia’s kind eyes. 

Your captain shook her head firmly. “You could never annoy us.” 

Slowly, you nodded, accepting Alexia’s outstretched hand as she stood up and pulled you to your feet as well. 

You moved to walk back to the media room, but Alexia pulled you back, a small smile on her face. “Hug?” She asked, opening her arms for you. “It has been a stressful day. One of my teammates does not understand how much we all love her and it makes me very sad.” 

You rolled your eyes, feeling something deeply happy and hopeful bloom inside of you. You accepted the hug, falling into Alexia’s arms, squeezing her tightly. “She knows. I think she just forgets sometimes.” You murmured, your voice muffled in Alexia’s training top. 

“Well, we will just have to remind her then, yes?” Alexia said, voice filled with determination. 

And remind you, they did.

------

Their reminders, often unspoken squeezes of the shoulder and encouraging words, worked well. It wasn’t an immediate change, but rather a slow one. There were signs that you were opening up more. Everyone felt an inexplicable sense of pride when you did reach out to one of them, whether physically or more emotionally. 

The first time was when Mapi returned to training with the team for the first time. She had greeted everyone with a hug, turning to you and holding up her hands for high fives. She had long accepted that you didn’t like to be hugged, and she’d been relatively absent in the time that had begun to change. 

She was floored when you ignored her hands in favor of wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug. It only took a second before she was returning the gesture, though she looked in surprise towards Alexia, who just smiled back at her. Two big steps were taken that day, and Alexia wasn't sure she could pick which made her happier. You were sure that Mapi’s comeback was the highlight of the week for everyone, while Mapi was pretty sure your hugs brought good luck, because training went perfectly, for you two especially. Or maybe, the joy on both of your faces lit up the pitch, and made everyone play better. Happiness was odd like that, sometimes. Contagious and healing. Barça was a place of happiness, you decided. And of healing. 

------

i know a lot of you were excited about this one, so i hoped it lived up to your expectations :)

[daylightstring]

how to build a strong self concept + a mini basic challenge.

if you’ve been manifesting for a while but feel like nothing is really changing, it’s probably not the method you’re using. it’s your identity. your self concept is the way you see yourself , your worth, how you think people see you, what you think is possible for you, and what you expect from life. and the truth is: your life can’t really change until you change.

when you have a strong self concept, you don’t need to chase or force anything. you already know it’s yours. the version of you who has what she wants? she sees herself differently. she’s not begging for proof, she’s not doubting her power…she just is. that’s what we’re building.

what is self concept, really? it’s the story you tell yourself about who you are. things like:

• “i always get chosen”

• “nothing ever works out for me”

• “i’m so confident”

• “i’m not good enough”

whether those beliefs are positive or negative, they’re shaping your reality every single day. but here’s the good part: they’re not facts. you can change them. and when you do, everything around you starts shifting too.

how do you actually build a strong self concept?

first: drop the old story.

start paying attention to the thoughts and beliefs you’ve been holding on to, especially the ones that make you feel small, overlooked, or unworthy. you have to let those go. stop repeating them, even in your head.

then: decide who you are now.

this is where it all starts. get clear on how the version of you who has it all thinks, feels, and speaks. who is she? how does she carry herself? start acting like that version right now, even if your current reality hasn’t caught up yet.

repetition is key.

you need to feed this new identity constantly. not once a day, not once a week, daily. say your affirmations, remind yourself of who you are, loop the new story in your head until it becomes your truth. this isn’t about doing the 10k challenge or robotic affirmation, it’s more so about harnessing the energy that you have a good self concept until it feels natural.

stop waiting for the 3D to prove it.

real power is when you hold the belief before you see any evidence. you don’t wait for people or situations to confirm it, you decide and then let the world follow. it’s not about faking it, it’s about choosing what’s real to you.

and when the 3D triggers you? stay calm.

things might look the same for a bit , that’s okay. don’t let it shake you. remind yourself: “i know who i am now. and my reality is catching up.”

and for a bonus, here is something to apply in your real life, a 7-day self concept challenge:

what you need to do:

• choose 5 affirmations that feel natural to you. keep them simple, like things you’d say to a friend. some examples:

• “i always get what i want.”

• “i don’t chase, it comes to me.”

• “i’m the version of me who has it all.”

• “everything works out for me, always.”

• “i’m so lucky, it’s unreal.”

• every morning and every night, set a 20-minute timer. during that time, loop your affirmations, say them out loud, write them down, or visualize what it feels like to already have it.

• if negative thoughts show up during the day, pause. and remind yourself: “that’s not me anymore.” redirect your focus back to who you really are now.

you don’t need fixing. you don’t need years of healing. you just need to start seeing yourself as the version of you who already has it all. she’s already in you, you’re just letting her take the lead now.

that’s all for now! pls keep me updated through my inbox if you do the challenge 💕

[ssilentwitness]

the “methods” ego decides to use, is still (and will ALWAYS be) you.

don’t get me wrong, years ago i was overly obsessed with loa. overly might not even be the right adverb… how about EXTREMELY?🙂

the constant reminding, robotic affirming, visualizing, you name it. I truly thought these methods were the key. What i notice when i’m on twitter, or here on tumblr, a method is SO crucial to some of y’all. but i can’t call yall out TEWW much because I was right in your shoes lmao.

Although I have nothing to do with that community, i will say that your methods are useless to your true self. The methods ARE LITERALLY YOU! So why are you relying on them as if they’re the problem solver?

by popularity, let’s use affirming as an example. “I have $20,000 dollars” or “Bruh I’m broke as hell”. These 2 affirmations might SEEM contrasting, but whichever one you pick, that was your choice. Do you see it now? It was NEVER about the method!! You could affirm once or 1 million times either of those statements (because that’s was affs are) and it’ll immediately be true. You decided that’s what’s going on. So that’s LITERALLY what you’re going to experience. INSTANTLY.

Methods are solely to keep ego in check. Methods are not for you (true self.) They’re not here to make “you” (ego) spiral. You guys need to understand that [your name] is not real. Not in a nihilistic way, but simply because you are aware of it. If you look at “your” hand and notice all the lines and crevices, HOW COULD THAT NOT BE YOU? You EASILY noticed the lines in your hands, your nails, your cuticles with no discourse from ego. Why? because you were simply just aware of them. This is literally why you hear so many success stories on appearance changes!!

It is absolutely impossible for anything to be outside of you. If you are aware of something, and i mean ANY*THING* then how could it not be you? It came from THE SOURCE. YOU. CONSCIOUSNESS!!! EVERYTHING COMES FROM YOU BABE!!!!

to wrap this up, let me just say that I (ego) still use methods till this day. you should too if you want! They’re not REQUIREMENTS. They’re here simply because it’s fun. stop putting the methods on such a pedestal when you are aware of every fucking affirmation. You are aware of every visualization. You are aware of the words that you write in your journal. So if YOU (consciousness) are aware of *said thing* (also consciousness), then how tf could you not already have it? it’s always been yours.

[revelboo]

Hi hi hi HIIII!!!

hope you're having a wonderful day!! very grateful and happy for the little treats you give us it's like bedtime stories for me HHHHH-

not a request, please take your time and don't stress since you already have a bunch of stuff going on, i was just wondering if we'd get a continuation for that delicious Rodimus fic (so yum yum) (against don't stress about it)

have a wonderful night 🫶🏻

Thank you! They’re all ongoing, I’m just superbly terrible at tracking what needs to be updated next

Attractive Today Pt 4

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

• Slowly that panic on his face recedes and he leans sideways, shoulder thumping against the wall as his big hands shake. And you stop rambling and pace closer to the edge, sitting down with your legs dangling, aware of him watching you. “I didn’t know big, alien robots can have panic attacks,” you say, listening to his ragged venting. He slides down to sit, drawing his legs up and covering his face with his hands, looking suddenly so achingly young.

• “I wasn’t having a panic attack,” he mutters, feeling the tremors still coursing through him, but the danger is past. You talked him down somehow, distracted him. Kept him from hurting anyone else. Has anyone else been able to rein him in like that besides Optimus? Interlacing his servos, he looks up at you leaning out from your perch. No longer afraid of him, when you should be more terrified.

• “Looked like a panic attack to me.” Leaning your elbows on your knees, you swing your legs and he scowls up at you. Just sitting on the floor staring at you. “Want to talk about it?” Not that you’re surprised at all when he shakes his head at you. But then, had you ever wanted to talk about it after when irrational panic seized you by the throat? No, you’d always been left feeling embarrassed and almost ashamed by the attacks. Like something was wrong with you and your shoulders ease, because you at least have something in common with him. A starting point.

• “We can’t take you back,” he says and your swinging legs still. “Not yet, but I promise I’ll try to get you home.” Watches you tip your head back to stare at the ceiling and waits for you to get mad at him. To argue or cry. Not expecting you to slump back so all he can see is your dangling legs. Slowly standing, he walks over and leans over you. Guilt twisting about his spark as you stare at nothing, hair spread out around your head.

• Eyes opening to find him looming over you, his hands on either side of you, there’s not even the energy to be upset because he looks so genuinely upset about it. And you believe him, believe he’ll do everything he can to get you home. Not even bothering to sit up, you hold up your fist a pinky extended. “If you promise, you have to keep your word.” Know you can’t hold him to anything, that you have no power here, but he just looks from your face to your hand and reaches to gingerly touch his own servo to your pinky with a look so serious you almost start laughing, because it’s that or cry.

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[cannibal-alien]

RAHHHHH BUILDERMAN X MALE OR GN READER X SHEDLETSKY!!!!!!!!! 🔨🍗⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️ RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS WORK FINEEEEE

sneds a love pipebomb into your mailbox and cutely dazzles away

꒰ 🧱🍗 ꒱ builderman & shedletsky x reader (separately) headcanons!!!

i love Ur Excitement anonner so u are getting BOTH!! (^_^) / . . . 💣💕 ˎˊ˗ sending it right back to you!! 👽

🧱 builderman

builderman likes to build you little robots in his spare time!! this guy can BUILD,, so why not combine two of his favorite things to make himself even happier?? they’re small in size, but you still really appreciate the gesture. they’re pretty adorable little metal guys. if you ever need anything built, repaired, or tinkered with, you obviously already know who’ll get it done fast and perfectly.

he’ll also try to teach you a thing or two, always intrigued and impressed by anything you happen to make. If you’re not really into it, that’s totally fine,, he’s more than happy just having you there watching him, silently hoping you’ll throw him a compliment or three <3

for those of you who like pre-forsaken ideas, i’ll just say this: builder brothers pizza date!! i imagine builderman as someone who’s really involved in the relationship, always wanting to have a date night or spend time with you,, i don’t know!! he just gives off those vibes!!

🍗 shedletsky

he’s suuuper protective of you. not out of jealousy,, but out of genuine care for your safety and well-being. he’s incredibly selfless, always putting you before himself, even when he doesn’t really have to. you’re practically his entire world, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you (hope you’re a fan of chicken!!)

shed’s not huge on traditional affection unless it’s through acts of service, and it might take him a little while to get used to lovey-dovey stuff if you’re into that. but in private? he’s a total sucker for hand holding and cuddling. being able to hold you is a big comfort for him, a subtle reminder that he hasn’t lost everything.

he’ll let you wield his sword for protection if you ever get pulled into a match without him. he honestly doesn’t care if it gets bent, stained, or dulled,, what matters to him the most is that you come back safe and alive!

divider by @/strangergraphics ^.^