#cnt 1

[heymeowmao]

三生无殇 | Beloved of a Lifetime E16 ° From today on, I'll be your master.

[smolpout]

Kidnapping you and sincerely treating you like my daughter. Telling you that I missed you and I'm sorry you had to deal with that big horrible world out there, but dad's got you now, and you'll never have to face if again. Just be a good girl for dad and I'll take care of everything. 💕

i pinky promise il b soso good 4 u dada !! m a good grl 🥺

[irl]

its actlly bn a while since sme1 offrd me a cmptr, i feel lik im due 4 th chance 2 ask 4 toontwn soon LMAOOOO

[pamlabyrinth]

ive been working on a dress for 5 hours straight

[alexandria-alexis]

That man shouldn’t be allowed in the paddock. He is disgusting. Max was just a child. A little boy.

whats more disgusting is that he deliberately switched to english around other people so they would understand. to embrass Max in front of them even more.

[muppetjokerno1haterrr]

Lame! If you do want our help, come down to the swamp™️, you’ll be able to tell it’s our swamp because we’re blasting Hey Lover! by Wabie wayyyy too loud. Like obnoxiously loud. Also, none of us a blonde if that’s the concern.

iif 2mth goe2 horriibly wrong ur‘’ll bee the fiir2t 1’’2 ii a2k

[belligerance]

[guubiiz]

impatiently awaiting the day mephisto is dateable T^T

[deunmiu-dessie]

1/2 (unedited)

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : in the year 3020, androids of all types are being produced globally. cybernautic technologies (cnt), the leading company in the field, is offering anyone who has bought an android from them the opportunity to be selected as a beta tester for any of their upcoming models at no cost—all you have to do is sign up. while the odds of being chosen are quite low, when cnt has revealed the imminent launch of their latest android, named 'the guard dog.' you arrive home to a large, heavy package bearing the cybernautic technologies logo waiting at your doorstep.

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— THE PROSPECT RESTAURANT | 10:16 PM.

“hello, welcome to the prospect, i’ll be your server for today.”

“will that be all?”

“thank you for dining here at the prospect!”

“what would you like to drink tonight?”

“would you prefer soup or salad?”

“will you be paying in credits?”

“it seems you're low on mexus currency, we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“here at the prospect, everything is cooked and served by humans.”

“enjoy the rest of your stay here in felicity port.”

⸺⸺⸺⸺ ☙ ⸺⸺⸺⸺

everything slipped by in a haze, a blur of muted colors and indistinct sounds, as if the world outside had faded into a dreamlike state; and you don't remember eating at all today. the gnawing emptiness in your belly screaming for attention is testament to that, your body desperately trying to consume itself whole in mutiny. your fingers glide over the soft fat of your stomach, a tender caress meant to placate the piercing pains and the grumbling whale noises. however, it continues its revolt and doubles its efforts.

as a matter of fact, you couldn't remember if you’d even gone home the day prior or stayed to work through your off hours into this shift. because the moment you clocked in, time seemed nonexistent. hours evaporated into mere moments, while seconds stretched into agonizing eternities, voices overlapped and the heat of the kitchen crept underneath skin and charred bones, words pierced hearts and knives nicked flesh. claret hued blood confused with strawberry puree.

 there was no concept of time here at the prospect. you realized that a month into working. after weeks and weeks of grueling work, where each day bled into the next, a nightmarish cycle of labor that left you retching and gasping for air every single time you came home, time seemed to warp and stretch. it felt as if the second you crossed the threshold of your home, you were heading back to work, with barely enough time to brush the smell of puke from your breath. and for the entire bleak month of feburary, you found yourself ensnared in a twisted romance with your bathroom toilet; a tall glass of orange juice- your only companion in this grim affair.

and because there was never a point when the restaurant was empty, there was never a moment when the workers could break. never a moment to catch your breath, to declutter your mind, to steady your heart, never a time to think. thoughts raced like the orders flying out of the kitchen; contemplation was a luxury they could not afford. adapt or face the door—those were the unspoken rules. amy, one of the general managers, often said, “you can rest when you’re six feet under.” ironically, her break arrived just a few months later.

the prospect stood as a rare sanctuary in a world dominated by machines, and was one of the few places that hired humans and humans only. a coveted position here came with a lengthy waiting list, despite the shit wages which barely compensated for the grueling labor. so there was no way you would leave, no way you could quit. besides, it wasn't all bad— it was quite the close-knit family here, and working could be fun most days with the right manager scheduled. and the perks were good enough. you needed the money.

“chica? you leavin’?”

your head swivels tiredly in the direction of the smooth, rich voice of your co-worker nina, her long dark tresses are pulled into a low ponytail, and the familiar piercings that embellish her spheroidal face—tiny silver hoops and delicate studs— have been taken off for the start of her shift, giving her an unexpectedly fresh look. your thoughts scatter the moment you see her, like autumn leaves in a brisk wind, as if attempting to hide from nina's presence despite the woman not being able to hear them.

your hand drops from the hold on your pained stomach, gliding down to the unforgiving chill of the bench beneath you, the shock of the cold metal causes goosebumps to ghost along your skin. when the two of you meet eyes, you can't help but grin teasingly as you respond to her, “mhm, i’m off the next two days as well,” there's a keen lilt to your voice and nina groans, her head teetering back in disbelief, her soft, rounded hands settling defiantly on her curvy hips. nina's gaze resembles deep pools of dark chocolate, rich and indulgent, infused with a small hint of cayenne.

“tell me you're thinkin’ about pickin’ up,” her voice pleads, her curvaceous figure now leaning against the threshold of the changing room. nina’s lips, petite yet full with a pronounced cupid's bow, pull into a soft frown, her chin set and a small dimple forming in the skin.

nina’d been working at the prospect long before you came, but the two of you formed bonds quickly in only a couple of weeks despite the age gap, with her being a few years your senior, the connection felt effortless. “i have a new server comin’ in and i don't want to train him alone, you know how packed we get on saturdays.” she mutters bitterly and your nose scrunches up at the mere idea of having to work on the weekend.

because the prospect was one of the three human ran restaurants in felicity port, that wasn't in the glades, it was bound to be packed and always drew in crowds like moths to a flame. most of the dickheads and drunks came out on the weekends and most workers dreaded being scheduled for it. however, when you and nina were on the clock together, most would leap at the chance to work those nights. you let out a sigh and shake your head, lips pursing and toeing into your beat-up shoes. “i would– you know i would, but cody is on my ass for the amount of overtime i racked up last month, so i can't.”

nina’s forehead gently collides with the door frame as she processes your response, a rhythmic thud echoing in the air. after a few moments, she pivots her head to meet your gaze. “bitch, why do you do these things to me? creo que voy a dejarlo.” the question is filled with exhaustion and slight irritation that has your mouth opening in a boisterous laugh, much to nina's growing irritation. the hispanic woman's hand lifts from its grip on the doorframe, and the middle finger raises slowly, but it only makes you laugh harder as you clutch your weathered tote bag and rise from the cold metal bench. ( i think i'm going to quit. )

you lightly tap the toe of your shoes against the floor before walking towards nina and enveloping her shoulders with your arm, lips pressing to her olive toned cheek as a parting gift, soft chuckles still slipping from your lips. "i'll see you monday, nina." you tell her softly, patting her shoulder, then glide by her, walking to the back door of the restaurant.

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— THE PROSPECT RESTAURANT | 10:45 PM.

there's a chill in the air the moment you cross the threshold into the open, the warm autumn air from early in the morning feels like a figment of your imagination. and for a heartbeat, you linger, eyes lifted to the synthetic trees that stretch toward the artificial night sky, watching the transformation of leaves from vibrant green to fiery red, cascading down to the metallic earth below. where with each leaf that touches the surface, vanishes in a delicate explosion of shimmering blue motes.

the loud hum of machinery, and the occasional chirp of synthetic birds flitting between the branches makes your stomach churn. there was nothing real here.

despite it being deep into the night, felicity port was as bright and loud as ever. known to outsiders as: the place that never sleeps, andromexus city thrummed with life. the sharp sound of flying cars and the whoosh of hoverboards, the loud thrum of the machinery just beneath the metallic sidewalks and roads, the sound of pleasure androids promoting their workplace, and the sound of rowdy human men that came with it. there was never a moment where felicity port was silent, never a moment where shit wasn't happening.

it was a place where dreams were made and also came to die-- everyone yearned to call andromexus city home, yet only a select few could endure its relentless pace. it stopped for no one and at times, you wondered how you managed to survive.

your eyes flit around the darkened alleyway, well as dark as it could get with the flickering glow of promotional drones flying around, their neon signs casting a sharp light. you search intently until your eyes land on what you're looking for, or perhaps, who, you are looking for. with a steady stride, you approach the homeless man, joel, an older gentleman whose wisdom is etched into the lines of his weathered face. yet, despite the knowledge that comes with age, he has found himself adrift in felicity port, stripped of mexus currency and credits. "joel, i got you something to eat."

his lashes, wispy and white as gossamer, flutter before his eyelids lift revealing soft irises of honey brown and milky white. he was blind in one eye. joel's gaze seems to brighten the moment that they find you, a smile pulling at his thin lips, his crooked, yellow teeth on display to give you a warm smile. "you're here," the man murmurs, his voice raspy yet tender, as he shifts slightly beneath the thick blanket, a gift given to him by you.

you can't help the smile that blooms on your face as you crouch before him, rummaging through your well-worn tote bag to retrieve the food you had pilfered from the restaurant kitchen. "i am," you murmur back softly, grabbing his thin hand, blue veins protruding against his flesh. you gently place the hefty weight of the box in his grasp. "enjoy, joel,"

there's a soft pop of your joints when you stand from your crouched position and you grimace softly, hefting your tote bag over your shoulder once more and taking a few steps back from the man. with a swift turn, you exit the alleyway, a smile curling your lips when you hear the faint voice of joel calling out a, 'thank you', the bustling sounds of the street greeting you.

when you first moved to andromexus city, the sounds and smells of felicity port made you nauseous and dizzy. you could barely be outside for more than ten minutes without swallowing down the burning taste of vomit, without having your hands cushioning the weight of your skull in your palms. the lights were too bright, everything too loud, the smell of oil and smoke filling your lungs and clinging to the walls like an unwelcome guest you had been overwhelmed, with no one to help you become accustomed to it.

despite having resided in felicity port for a few years, there was still a dull ache in the back of your head the moment you stepped outside of your apartment. with a gentle shake of your head and a deep sigh, you deftly maneuver through the packed streets of the entertainment district, narrowly dodging teenagers zipping by on hoverboards and gliding on sonic razorblades. this was the familiar rhythm of your day, the 'dream' you had envisioned while living in nebulon city, where the population was only ten thousand.

"i'll take a corndog."

"that'll be five, in mexus currency."

the prices were cheap in felicity port but then again, the food wasn't real out here in the entertainment district. just crafted to resemble the culinary delights of a bygone era, a time when the world still had the animals and resources to create such dishes. you weren't too sure if this was even the original taste of a corndog, with its sweet, bready exterior and the savory meat hidden within, all generously slathered in ketchup and mustard. nothing was real.

as you turn down the familiar street that your apartment rests on, you observe the small android children frolicking on their porches, undeterred by the late hour. sleep was a concept foreign to them, after all; they weren't bound by human needs. your blunt human teeth bite into the familiar taste of the corndog, a treat you always got yourself the moment you got off of work. a soft sound of contentment escaped your lips, chewing slowly as your eyes took in the activity of felicity port.

"excuse me."

"sorry,"

the softness of your lips part to mutter, hips narrowly missing the patrolling security robot as you continue your way down the street. for a fleeting moment, your gaze lingers on the machine before you turn your attention ahead. andromexus city was no stranger to crime; it was a constant presence. it was inevitable with the number of jewle addicts and homeless that took up more than half the population and each night, countless individuals fell victim to theft, losing their credits and mexus currency. thankfully you had never been targeted before.

the moment your apartment complex comes into view, your eyes land on a huge box stationed in front of your door and your lashes flutter, your stomach clenching painfully from hunger. you instinctively press your fingers against your abdomen, trying to ease the discomfort, while you cautiously ascend the stairs to your floor. eyebrows furrowing and footsteps light. you hadn't ordered anything in months, yet with each step, your address becomes more distinct, and your name emerges clearly on the package.

your fingers glide across the surface of the box, your eyes darting around as you absorb its details, eventually settling on the tiny logo of cybernautic technologies nestled in the bottom right corner. your eyebrows lift in soft question before you slide past the box, placing your thumb on the doorknob. the scanner emits a red blinking light until the mechanical sound of your door unlocking is heard and the scanner flashes green.

as you turn the knob and push the door to your apartment ajar, you let your bag tumble to the floor with a soft thud. standing there, hands on your hips, you tilt your head back to scrutinize the top of the box that looms above you, lips trembling as you let out a sigh, muttering softly to yourself, "what the hell are you?"

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— PROXXY STREET | 11:57 PM.

it took more than half an hour for you to drag the box into your apartment and the center of your living room, it was as if it were a leaden weight that clung stubbornly to the ground. you were sure it weighed a ton, and in the process, you had chipped at least two nails.

now, standing before the box with your hip tilted to one side, you were drenched in sweat, your chest rising and falling with exertion. meanwhile, your android dog, who you named willow, was still stationed at its charging station and though the thought of letting her roam free while you tackled the unboxing was tempting, you ultimately decided against it.

walking to the kitchen, your hand instinctively reached for the laser knife nestled in its sheath. with purpose, you returned to the box, carefully slicing along the dotted lines designed for a precise opening of a package from cybernautic technologies. after a few deft cuts, the front of the box fell away, hitting the tiled floor with a resounding thud. your blade followed suit, clattering down just moments later as your gaze finally settled on the imposing figure within the box—a large, burly man, no android, firmly secured within it.

he was naked from his neck to the deep v-line at his hips; from then on he was covered by a pair of cnt boxer briefs that truly left little to the imagination. you swallow thickly, forcing your gaze to remain fixed on his face. he possessed a rugged handsomeness, his dark blonde hair tousled and his lips a delicate shell pink. he looked real, a vividness that made it difficult to believe he was an android. with a trembling hand, you reach up to brush softly against his cheek feeling the chill of his skin—a common trait among androids, especially when they were not connected to their charging stations.

your breath hitches just from the touch of his frigid artificial skin, and your fingertips brush and tap down his flesh until they get to his chest, where you press your palm firmly against him. your eyes remain fixed on his face, tilting your head slightly in a daze, lips slightly parted as your gaze roams over his features, the contours of his jawline, the curve of his lips, and the startling realness of his skin. there was something so different about him compared to the other androids that have been made. your fingers wander over the delicate hairs just below his navel, a soft, almost reverent touch, but then you withdraw your hand abruptly, as if you'd been shocked.

your gaze darts around your living room for a brief moment before it settles on a small envelope glued to the front of the box. in a swift motion, you lower yourself into a crouch, pressing your palm against the sturdy cardboard surface. with your other hand, you carefully peel the letter free, shaky hands, ripping it open, fumbling to get the note out of the envelope before your eyes roam over its contents.

exciting news: you've been selected as a beta user! dear [recipient's name], here at cyberbautic technologies, we’re thrilled to inform you that you have been chosen as a beta user for our latest innovation, the android robot known as "the guard dog." this advanced robot is designed to provide security and companionship in your home. you will have a full week to interact with the guard dog, testing its features and functionalities. we encourage you to explore all its capabilities, which include smart surveillance, voice interaction, personalized security settings and other functions. your feedback is invaluable to us, so please take note of your experiences, any challenges you encounter, and suggestions for improvement. best regards, [your name]

your lips part in a soft movement of disbelief, and your gaze darts back to the android confined within the box, his eyes closed in a serene slumber and framed by long, delicate blonde lashes. everything about him was so big, so masculine, and void of any gentle contours. broad shoulders taper down to a powerful torso, each muscle defined and pronounced and thick, muscular thighs, thick and sturdy.

your eyes travel down to his large hands with blunt fingernails, it reminds you of a life of labor, of toil and effort, as if he wasn't forged from metal and circuitry. each finger is thick and strong, capable of both delicate precision and overwhelming force. a sharp, prominent nose, slightly askew as if it has borne the brunt of countless battles. it was as if he was a greek god sculpted from marble.

letting the letter fall from your hands you walk forward and lean in close, eyes looking for the small power button nestled just beneath and behind his ear. with trembling fingers, slick with sweat, you press it, feeling a bead trickle down your temple. the sound of him powering on reverberates through the confines of your small apartment, and you carefully retreat a step back.

nothing.

no movement, unlike what you’d seen in countless galaxy network videos of android unboxings. your eyebrows twitch as you instinctively move to take a step forward, but then a voice echoes through the air—dark, deep, and tinged with a rough accent. it sent a warm wave of heat unfurling within your stomach, leaving you momentarily breathless. hand pressing to your heart to calm the fierce thumping.

“standby mode: off.”

a gentle hum emanates from his internal mechanisms and as if awakening from a deep slumber, his eyes slowly open, the brown irises glowing a pale blue, while streams of programming code flicker rapidly across their surface. you watch as his chest slowly starts to move, as if he is mimicking the act of breathing. and the moment you step closer, you can feel the heat rolling off his body in waves.

“performing quick self-diagnostic check.”

crouching, you retrieve the laser knife from the floor. you approach the android, your heart racing as you carefully slice through the straps binding his arms; descending back down to also cut the straps from his ankles; making sure to avoid looking anywhere below his waist. once the android is free from his bindings, you swiftly retreat a few paces, creating distance between you and the now-unrestrained figure.

“diagnostics complete.”

the gruff, deep, accented, and almost monotonous sound of his voice sends a chill racing down your spine, and the scent of pine and something akin to smoke invades your nose and lungs. then his brown eyes, so life-like and dark, are on yours, with an intensity that is hard to ignore. your eyes widen when he speaks, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on his face, “id code: #a36h920tr, you have been selected as a beta user for my model, ‘the guard dog,’ set to launch in the fall of next year. i am the only one of my kind and have been named, simon.”

what exactly have you signed up for?

your mouth gapes like a fish out of water, while your eyes blink in a startled manner, akin to an owl's gaze, as a tightness grips your throat, a constricting band that makes it feel as though you are being choked by an unseen force, “y-yes, my name is [your name].” you mutter, heart thudding so hard in your chest, it’s almost painful.

“your heart rate is above the normal range. initiatin’ a complete body scan for owner: [your name].”

hot. your flesh felt like it was peeling from your bones, dissolving into a pile of gore at your feet. you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. he was an android, he wasn’t real, just a mere construct of metal and circuits, yet he appeared so convincingly lifelike, both in appearance and sound, that it was disorienting. you could almost convince yourself he was real, as real as the oppressive warmth surrounding you. with a sharp intake of breath, you cleared your throat and raised your hand, halting his scanning gaze. “no! i’m fine, it’s just…hot.” you mutter sheepishly.

simon’s gaze is an unwavering, dark pit, drawing you in with an intensity that felt almost otherworldly. as if he could ask you to do something and you would, without hesitation. the way he spoke, low and deep, growly and gruff, like distant thunder, set all of your nerves on fire and scorched your bones to the marrow.

the two of you are silent for a moment, and you catch a glimpse of the android's gaze flickering momentarily to your breasts and thighs, see the soft clenching of his large hands, yet, just as quickly, his eyes return to meet yours. your lips part and his eyes follow dutifully, taking in the softness of your mouth, the delicate curve of your lips, the gentle nervous breath that escapes, and the slight peek of your pink human tongue. you wonder what thoughts race through his mind, what algorithms are at play as he watches you. wonder if he's aware of the way your skin tingles under his gaze.

was it even possible to have sexual tension with a damn robot?

you practically jump out of your skin when he shifts, thick powerful legs, connecting to a tapered waist, emerging from the confines of the box. in response, you step back, wide eyes on his. then his whole body is out, and somehow he seems bigger than he was before– it's as if he takes up all the space in your small apartment. you can't help the breath of awe that escapes, or the way your eyes trail down his neck, past the swell of his adams apple, before settling on the impressive contours of his chest.

there's something akin to amusement that seems to swirl in his eyes when you find his gaze again, that and something…dark, in a way. just as you prepare to speak, a subtle flash of red flickers from just behind and beneath his ear.

“my power level ‘s low,” he informs you, and you respond with a nod, feeling somewhat foolish as you remain rooted to the spot. his eyes narrow, like a predator watching prey, prompting you to finally break the silence. you wipe your sweaty palms on the back of your pants. “right, sorry. uh, i have a charging pad, just, um–” you motion towards the corner of the living room where your android dog was stationed on a charging port.

simon’s head cranes to look where you point and he lets out a soft, deep grunt before his dark eyes find yours, and it steals your breath, and causes heat to blossom between the apex of your thighs. you shake your head, attempting to dispel the swirling thoughts, and cautiously maneuver around him, you can’t help but notice the way his gaze follows you, breath hitching when you hear him take in a soft inhale of your scent.

you quickly make your way to the charging pad and gently pick up willow, cradling her plush body to your chest and stepping out of the way. “you can charge now, simon.” you murmur, pivoting to meet his gaze. however, he's already bridged the gap, now merely a foot away. the artificial warmth radiating from him sends a wave of dizziness through you, mingling with the earthy scent of pine and smoke that clings to his frame. he’s a massive android, perhaps the biggest creation cybernautic technologies has made.

a small startled sound escapes your mouth and you instinctively shuffle away, your back pressing against the cool surface of the wall. he looks as if he’s going to eat you whole, ravage your body, and leave you as nothing more than a heap of overstimulated flesh. you swallow thickly and his intense gaze flits down to your throat. there's a stall in his mechanics, you notice the way a vivid purple light flickers from his power button and turn red before his dark eyes finally break away from yours, and he strides toward the charging pad, the 'muscles' in his jaw tightening.

“standby mode: on.”

with a trembling inhale, you observe his eyelids fluttering close, and his chest stopping its movement; almost as if he were no longer alive. the moment simon is charging, you exhale sharply, pressing a hand against your heart, holding willow close.

“i think i’m gonna pass out.”

SEPTEMBER 12TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— PROXXY STREET | 4:09 AM.

you're not sure what the time is or why you woke up, but your lashes flutter, and the stark white ceiling comes into focus, the shadows of your room slowly receding. despite the warmth from your comforter, you can feel a brush of cool air over your collarbones. your eyes glide around your room, groggily taking in the dark chamber before landing on a massive, bulky figure looming at the foot of your bed.

a scream lodges its way in your throat, attempting to claw its way out, but before it can break free, a deep, gravelly voice cuts through the tension. “your heart rate is elevated, and your stress hormones are off the charts. you’re frightened,” he states, his tone almost indifferent. you swallow hard, the scream lodged deep within you, your heart racing and your skin flushing with heat. “what the hell are you doing in my room?” you murmur, sitting up slowly in bed.

“i am programmed to always be within a certain range of you, sweetheart.” he states gruffly, his voice, while panty-dropping, had a bit of sass to it. “this ‘s a setting that can’t be overridden.” simon finishes, and you can feel his eyes on you, roaming over the exposed skin of your body, it sends a delightful shiver down your spine.

sweetheart? did he just call you sweetheart? why were your nipples getting hard right now?

you swallow thickly, and stretch your hand to flick on the lamp beside your bed, the soft click seemingly loud in your ears and the warm light chasing away shadows. you feel the pressure of your teeth against the inside of your cheek as you steal a glance at him, he’s still only clad in his cnt boxers, all tight to his skin. quickly, you avert your eyes, focusing instead on his face, before you can get anywhere lower.

the two of you stare at one another, his gaze, deep and smoldering, as if he could see straight into your soul, felt like having sex with just a look. it felt like his hands were sliding tantalizingly along your skin, tracing every curve, while his lips and tongue roamed your breasts with a fervor that sent shivers down your spine. you could smell his scent, pine, and smoke, engulfing you, threatening to suffocate you. was it possible to get turned on by just staring at someone? you could almost feel the weight of his hands, the way they would explore, mapping out the contours of your form with a deftness that no human could match.

you shattered the stillness, your gaze lingering a moment longer before you gestured toward the bed, right at your feet. “you can sit here.” you say softly, breath hitching as he swiftly follows your ‘command’, his huge body moving with the grace of a feline, that belied his size as he stalks over to the bed, the mattress dipping heavily and your bed frame creaking and groaning in protest under his weight. the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze.

he’s close, way closer than you’d thought he’d be, so much so that his body heat seeped through the comforter and warmed your bones. you clear your throat and attempt to steel your frazzled nerves. “y-you feel…different, from the other androids cnt has made.” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you shifted beneath the sheets, rising onto your knees on the bed, the fabric rustling softly. you could feel his gaze on you, a steady presence that made your skin tingle. “…more real.” you hesitate, searching for the right words. “it feels like you're not just a collection of algorithms and circuits. you… you have a presence, a warmth that makes me forget you’re not human.”

“recent advancements have led to the development of new formulas that enhance androids with more human-like traits and emotions. we are now modeled after humans who are meticulously chosen through a rigorous selection process and subsequently analyzed across various disciplines to evaluate their characteristics.” simon replies smoothly, his gaze briefly dancing over the soft curves of the exposed plush of your thighs before they’re back on yours. had they not been basing androids off of humans this whole time? what does it mean to be human in a world where androids can evoke such genuine feelings? the warmth of his presence envelops you, and for a fleeting moment, you forget the boundaries that separate flesh from circuitry.

your breath snags in your throat, and heat engulfs the entirety of your body, your lips parting and your gaze stuck on his. he wasn’t flesh and blood; he was an android, a mere machine, yet the desire to reach out and touch him surged within you, stronger than anything you had ever felt, never wanted to be touched the way you wanted him to touch you, it felt almost primal. you blamed it on being a sex-deprived woman. there weren't many choices here in felicity port. in this city, where the neon lights flickered like distant stars and the hum of machinery drowned out the whispers of the heart, you had learned to navigate the loneliness that surrounded you.

"can i touch you?" your lips part, and the words tumble out before you can catch them. you notice the brief pause in his software, and see the vibrant purple glow that dances at his power button before it shifts to a deep crimson. you wonder what that meant, wonder if he's thinking about what type of touch you're talking about. you don't retract your words, hell you don't speak at all; just sit there with a bated breath, eyes flickering over his face.

"yes."

his reply is husky and deep, dark brown eyes glued to yours, and you feel a flutter of fear, afraid that if you look away, you'll wake up and realize that this is all a dream. that simon wasn't really here in your bedroom, clad in only tight boxer briefs, and eye fucking you. his eyes roam over the bare skin of your thighs, lingering as if memorizing every inch, every curve, and his large hand twitches, as if he’s fighting an internal battle, and there's a vivid flash of purple before it ignites red. the room feels smaller, the walls closing in as the space between you shrinks.

you shift your knee forward, inching closer, the fabric of your night dress gliding up to expose more of your skin, more and more until your knees rest against the warmth of his bare thigh. the eye contact makes your entire body thrum with burning heat, his eyes never veering from yours; his large hands pressed to the tops of his thick, muscular thighs. his body swamps yours entirely- and you were nowhere near small—despite your own size, you feel dwarfed by his sheer strength, and the sight sends a rush of heat pooling in your panties. you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be enveloped in his embrace, to have those strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer still. have his tantalizing scent—warm, musky, and undeniably masculine— invading your senses.

simon watches as your human hand comes up to shakily brush against his skin, your fleshy lips parted to take in shallow breaths, your slender throat and face flushed with heat. he can see inside of you, see the thumping of your heart, the speed at which it increases, the surge of testosterone coursing through you. can smell the heat of your skin, the sweet scent of your body wash, his senses study it and he recognizes it as sugared lavender, milk, and honey. every detail becomes magnified—the way your eyelashes flutter, the slight quiver of your lips, the way your breath catches in your throat as you meet his gaze.

the subtle rise of your chest with each breath, the gentle flutter of your heartbeat, and the way your eyes sparkle with emotion—all of it pulls him deeper into a realm he has only observed from a distance. he can feel the real warmth of a human, not his synthetic core that heats his body, and it's starkly different, it overwhelms him for a fleeting instant, causing a momentary short circuit in his system. can see the difference between the soft rise and fall of your chest compared to his fake breathing, the delicate curve of your breasts--

this is what he was based on, a human. and he couldn't compare, not in the slightest. you were the blueprint. he felt himself utterly lacking. simon can't help but lean his cheek into your palm when you shakily press it to his face, feeling the delicate contours of your fingerprints against his skin, each ridge and curve imprinted itself in his mind, and commits this entire moment to memory.

your fingers brush and trail over the expanse of his face, tracing the contours of his forehead, the sturdy line of his chin, the defined angles of his jaw, and his cheekbones. finally, they linger on his lips, a delicate shell pink, inviting, and soft. he watches you, despite your gaze following the soft line of your fingers on his artificial skin, he watches you as if it’s the last thing he’ll be able to do.

out of the corner of your eye, a flicker of purple catches your attention before it ignites into a vivid red, his hands clenching when it happens, as if frustrated. curious, you trail your hand down his cheek and behind his ear, to where it flashes; before you can utter a word, his voice, deep and rough, fills the air. “can i touch you?”

your heart stops and skips all in the same breath and you nod, captivated as he turns his body toward you, his gaze never leaving yours. simon’s large hand rises to cradle your cheek, it’s a confident movement that sends a shiver down your spine, his thumb brushing over the true warmth of skin. his long, sturdy fingers then meander along the curve of your nose, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, and as his fingers glide around your eye, you can’t help but close them for a brief moment, surrendering to the sensation of his touch. his fingers finally rest on your lips, a gentle yet possessive gesture that sends a rush of warmth through your entire being.

he wonders what it would feel like to have them wrapped around his--

your lips are plush and fleshy, and he can’t help but drag your bottom lip down gently with his thumb, revealing the delicate curve of your gums and the soft pink of your tongue. simon releases your lip, his hand gliding down your slender neck, fingers pressed to the rapid thumping of your pulse before his fingers trace the delicate line of your collarbone.

“you’re nervous.” simon states gruffly, his voice rumbling with a hint of authority as he observes, fingers sliding down your neck, a warm, deliberate touch that glides to your side, where they press into the gentle curve of your waist, kneading the soft flesh of your abdomen with a firm yet tender grip. there's a weight to his tone, a certainty that makes you feel seen in a way that both comforts and unnerves you.

“you make me nervous,” you whisper, your breath hitching as your fingers fumble to clutch his shoulders, when his hand trails over the soft, covered underside of your ass, fingers dancing lower until they flit over the back of your bare thigh. the power button just beneath his ear pulses a soft purple, flickering repeatedly before it finally shifts to a deep red.

curious, you press your fingers softly to it, nails pressing gently into his skin. “what does that mean?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, your mind swirling with the intoxicating scent of him, at how close you are to him. a small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that this simon is merely an android, a fleeting creation destined to vanish in a week, not truly yours. but you wanted him all the same.

“the filters installed in my hardware are functioning properly.” simon says gruffly, his fingers brushing against your thigh with a restless energy. “if the thoughts that i have of you or the touches that i attempt t’express conflict with the filter; i’ll recalibrate.”

“w-what kind of thoughts?” you whisper, throat bobbing as you swallow the lump that’s formed. his jaw tightens, and his gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “i’ve wanted my coc–.” simon’s power button flickers to life, glowing a deep purple before shifting to a fierce red. he’s silent for only a moment, then his jaw sets even harder. “the filters installed in my hardware are functioning properly.” simon restates and you nod loosely, briefly wondering if there was a way to turn it off that— no, what the hell were you thinking?

yet, before you can rein in your thoughts, your lips part, and the words tumble out in a rush, "is there a way to turn it off?"

a/n : ya'll...why is the smut killing me? like, i enjoyed writing the plot but then i get to the smut and i'm like...meh. is it cause that's all i post? maybe. anyways! i'll write the second part one of these days, but i wanted to post this cause i love it so much. (did i do some clickabit? absolutely)

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 ✮⋆˙

synopsis: Your secretary Alhaitham and you have a tension full relationship, but he finally snaps after some miscommunication- or lack thereof!

tags: angst for like 1 second, explicit, cunnalingus, office setting, penetration, vulgar

wrd cnt: 1.9k

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

As the CEO of a thriving business, you were known for your sharp wit and unmatched determination. Alhaitham, your steadfast secretary, had always admired you from a distance, his heart secretly harboring a deep affection for you. The dynamic between you two was a blend of professionalism and underlying emotion, a sentiment you both tried your best to hide. It was more than him getting you coffee each morning, more than the soft shoulder massages he’d give you at the end of the day, more than the glances you’d exchange at each meeting.

One evening, you find yourself mindless scrolling down a dating site. Half of you bored, half a little curious. You leave your computer on and exit your office on a lunch break.

Unfortunately for you...your secretary came in to deliver your papers and set them on your desk, glancing at the screen.

You hear the door open to the break room, Alhaitham entering.

"Ms. Y/n, would you like me to schedule anything for you this evening? Or are you doing something personal..." He asks, catching you off guard as it's not usual for him to pry like this.

"No it's fine, I do have something later tonight. Thank you though!" You reply. Watching Alhaithams eyes dim.

The night of the blind date arrived, you got ready with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You chose a stunning outfit and hoped the evening would be a pleasant distraction from all your stressors at work. However, as the night progressed, you realized your heart wasn't in it.

You find yourself subconsciously comparing your date to Alhaitham, his genuine care, and the way he always seemed to know what you always needed. He's always there, fixing things up, making your life so easy and balanced. He knew how to make you happy.

During a lull in the conversation, your date asked if everything was okay. You hesitated before admitting that your mind was elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham had decided to swing by the same restaurant after his work hours. It was one of his favorites and one he made you familiar with too, hence why you even decided to pick it for your date.

He had been feeling restless all evening, and a strange intuition led him there. And of course he saw you and your date, talking and spending an evening dinner together.

His heart raced, and he couldn't ignore the surge of emotion. He sat at the other end of the room for about 10 minutes; before getting up and leaving.

You stood up, your body reacting without your minds permission. You followed after him for 20 minutes. Your poor date left in confusion, but it didn't matter.

After not much longer you find Alhaitham back at the office.

You park your car adjacent to his and enter the building, feeling your knees shake as you felt like you did something wrong. You two had always had a sort of...tension. Unspoken, undelved, and more complicated than you could explain.

You're going up the elevator, you know exactly where he could be. Your intuition speaks true.

"Alhaitham!...there you are." You say in a sigh, catching him in your office, organizing the filing cabinet as his light green eyes cut through the air separating you two in the room.

You walk closer to him, the night sky illuminated by the lights of the city, the moon shining through the big glass walls of your corner office.

"Is something the matter? There's no work left on your agenda for tomorrow....l checked." He remarks, pretending like nothing had happened.

"Meaning you have none either...why are you here Alhaitham? You just- left? You didn't even say Hi..." You mention.

His head quickly turns as if you’ve offended him.

"You...wanted me to come talk to you while you were on a date with your partner?"

"My partner? I just met that guy tonight...why would that be a problem anyways?" You say.

Alhaithams scoffs, visibly trying to articulate himself in the professional manner he’s tried so hard to maintain with you.

"It's just-it's not appropriate, is all, we have a professional relationship, right?"

"Well, I mean I consider you a friend, you don't think the same?"

Alhaitham slams the filing cabinet shut, truthfully startling you.

"Your friend? I am your secretary. I plan your meetings, I make your spreadsheets, I bring you coffee, I make sure you finish your agenda, and I take care of all your needs."

"Then why are you acting like this...?" You say in a lighthearted tone, laughing smally. "What do you not approve of my date or something?" You laugh as you get closer to him, a little too close to call friendly.

You let that comment slip out of your mouth, and quickly it's replaced with Alhaithams tongue.

Pinning you to the wall you once leaned on as you spoke, now moaning into his mouth.

He pulls away, his lips touching you as he speaks. "I take care of you. I should be the one you spend your evening with. Right here. In this officer." He mutters, before you pull him back into the kiss.

You can't help but melt right into him, his grip now released from wrists as your hands wrap around his head, his hands holding your waist and the side of your face.

"I didn't know you felt that way...should have said something sooner."

"Well I'm saying it now. You're my boss. Mine to take care of. Mine."

The kiss doesn't last long before things get heated, your secretary now kissing down your neck...unbuttoning your top as his lips trial down your body. He throws your clothes nicely on top the chair nearby, as he works his way down your waist, leaving a trial of evidence down your body.

His jade green eyes glisten in the moonlight, as he drags your panties down with his teeth.

"You can't know how long l've wanted to do this... y/n. How long l've admired you, watched you, I serve you completely." He says, as you feel his warm breathe around out cunt.

"Alhaitham... what are y-" You're cut off, feeling Alhaithams mouth split your lips open, his tongue grazing up your folds and circling your clit. You try to stay standing, holding yourself up with a hand on the cabinet, your other on top of his head. He looks up at you frequently, as he kneels below of you: licking your hole and pumping his fingers inside it. He sucks on every part of your cunt, tasting every inch like his salary depends on it.

The feeling of his hands running up your thighs, and his mouth sucking on your swollen clit, push you over the edge in no time. The vibrations of Alhaithams moans send themselves into your cunt, forcing you to cum; all, over, his face.

You writher and squirm while your knees shake.

Feeling his large tongue lick every drop of cum that spills out of you. Wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers and sucking it off, savoring you.

He comes back up and kisses you, making you taste yourself.

You kiss him deeply, wanting his tongue. You're both pulling at each other, pushing your bodies closer as you moan into each others mouths against the wall.

"Alhaitham...give me more." You say softly into his ear, as your hands rub his erecting through this pants. Your hand reacted faster than your mind, you couldn't believe this is what you and your secretary were doing right now, but you don't want to stop now.

"Y/n...let me, this is about you." He says, quickly lifting you up with his hands under your thighs, turning you around and dropping you softy on the wooden desk behind you two. Your desk.

He slowly undressed you, leaving you bare infront of him. You lift up your leg and prop it on the corner of the desk, you make him watch as you spread open your lips with two fingers, playing with your pussy while he undressed. "This is what you wanted huh? What a naught secretary."

His face got even more red, before he kissed you again. "You're what I want." He quickly says, before his mouth is latched onto your hard nipple, as the other gets rubbed and pinched by his hand.

"Keep playing with yourself, it's so fucking hot." He snared, biting and sucking your chest, softy enough to make it painless but feel so fucking good.

As Alhaitham works on your tits, his cock springs out of his last piece of clothing.

Leaving so much saliva and hickies on and around your puffy nipples, you're eyes meet with his cock. A slightly dark tan, with the prettiest shaft and a throbbing red tip; just waiting to fuck you.

"Please boss...tell me you'll have me. Let me take care of you."

"Then do it, it's your job, right?" You smirk, before you softy hiss at how good his cock felt gliding all over your folds, he slapped his tip on your clit and rubbed them together.

"God I can't wait..." He says, he grabs onto your hips, as you sit on the desk.

You look down at his cock while it starts to disappear into your sopping wet pussy. Each inch making you gasp and squirm.

"Fuck...Alhaitham, it's not going to all fit..." You hear him grunt, before slamming it all into you. "It has to...it all has to fit y/n, I need you to feel it." He says, as your mouth can't keep in any of the sounds it's making.

His thrusts are slow and calculated, his thumb rubs your sore, engorged clit, while his cock is feeling your walls.

You can't help but fall back as his thrusts get more desperate, shaking you along with the table; which you now lay on, your tits bouncing up and down with it.

"Tell me y/n, will you remember me every time you sit here? Will you remember my cock fucking your tight little hole, like this?" He says harshly, needing you to need him.

You can't even reply, as the only thing coming out of your mouth is his name as you clench around his thick cock.

His body drops down towards you, his arms holding himself up which now lay on both sides of your face, feeling his hair on your forehead.

He's grunting and moaning right into your hear, turning you on even more while his hard cock doesn't stop rutting into you.

"Y/n...fuck, please forgive me...I can't stop boss."

You continue to gasp at the feeling of his cock even more close to you now, as his lips find your neck once again and create more areas for you to hide the next morning.

"Y-Y/n... i'm so fucking close...l don't think I can-"

Alhaithams words find no finish, but he does; you can feel warm ropes of thick cum coat your walls.

You've already came on his cock so many times, but you finish again from the feeling of his release inside you. His breathe is heavy on your neck, his knees buck a few times while his cock still stuffs you, cum oozing out onto the table and the floor all the while.

The night ends with him licking all the cum off you, gently and so lovingly. Dressing you, kissing you softly as he fixes up your desk. Telling you how he's always yours, always there, always the one who will take care of you. Only him.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[firerose18991]

Just Bimby Things

Prt 1 | Prt 2 | Prt3<you're here

Minors DNI

Pairing : Toxic(pathetic) Megumi x Bimbo!reader

Info: HVAC repairman megumi(itadori and nobara), interior decorator reader, used their surnames and first name interchangeably,  18+ characters. Written with black readers in mind

Wrd cnt: 1.5k

The trip had been a success in more than one way and you all returned to your jobs well rested. However, the open ended nature of your last encounter left Fushiguro wondering. Should he have taken you out first, Should he ask you out now. He had gotten your number, he just wasn't sure what to do with it.

He thought about this as he drove to his next appointment. Updating an old house that'd just been inherited by the former owner's children. It was farther out from the city than normal so he expected this to be a project he'd be working on for the next few days.

When he arrived he pulled his tool bag out from his truck and went in to greet the family. From what he could tell they were a middle aged successful couple. They were relentlessly happy when greeting him and showing him around the house while he did his assessment. After a short while there was a knock at the door.

"Oh you don't mind right, we made an appointment with our decorator. She's going to work around you to fix the place up as fast as possible for us." The wife headed toward the door to greet the decorator and bring her in.

"There's our star." The husband's voice boomed as he extended a welcoming arm to you.

As you stepped in you made eye contact with Megumi sending him a playful wink before taking the husband's hand.

"So what have we done so far?" You jumped excitedly. Your work outfit(if you could call it that) struggled to contain your movements.

Megumi made note of the husband still hanging onto your hand and staring down at you.

"We're going to have to gut the central wall and the basement to set up the systems. We should be able to get them back up in two weeks." Megumi's voice came out rasped. He was distracted by your closeness to the family. "I'll bring a team next time. What start day works best for you."

He pulled out his tablet to allow the couple to choose their time. Only the wife stepped up while you and the husband chatted quietly in the corner.

You were flipping your braids at everything he said, laughing at seemingly nothing. A feeling bubbled up in him when you took the husband's arm and went off to a different room.

"Well I'd like to start as soon as possible so this is a good time." The wife snapped him out of the daze.

She'd picked a date two days from now. "I'll get you the keys so you can let yourself in. We're still in the city while everything is getting settled.

“Honey!". She called her husband back to the room to fetch the keys.

"I can come back when the wall has been put up and start painting the house." You gushed while handing the key the husband had brought out to the wife who handed it to Megumi.

A week later Megumi still couldn't get the thought of you hanging off that guy's arm out of his head as he patched up the house. He was almost tempted to charge them more money and botched the job but it would reflect badly on his company so he held back. You stopped by the house just as he and his team were finishing up for the day.

"Hi Meggy." You hopped through the door in your usual tight get up.

You threw your arms around his neck.

"You haven't texted me." You pecked him on the lips.

He stood there frozen for a moment before stepping back slightly

"I'm working, maybe we can talk later." He attempted to grab his belongings but you beat him to it.

"I just wanna talk really fast." You held his work bag behind you. It almost tipped you over with how heavy it was.

“I can't make time right now" he reached for the bag but you stepped back again.

"Why noott~" You whined

"Cause you’re an ignorant fucking slut, now shut up and let me work” his words really struck you. While you froze he was able to grab his bag and leave you there.

The job was done after 2 more days and Megumi hadn't seen you at all in that time. He did reach out to let you know his work was done and he sent a half baked apology about his attitude after work. But he was left on read. Upon returning to his agency he was told that another event would be happening this weekend to celebrate the workers accomplishments. Though the reminder would be sent out again as hardly anyone was at the building when he arrived.

He went about the week leading up to it normally though he did put a considerable amount of energy into dodging Yuji as he knew he’d be reamed for what happened between the two of you. He was hoping the event would allow him the chance to pull you aside and straighten things out, and hopefully avoid his punishment.

As he got home from work on the day of the party he made sure to pick an outfit that wouldn’t draw too much attention to him. A plain suit and tie to a black and white event should allow him to fade into the background with the other workers. He got himself put together and arrived at the party. He was purposefully late as getting there early would also be cause for undue attention. He looked around for familiar faces and instantly spotted your body con baby pink dress surrounded by a chatty group.

“So much for black and white event.” He laughed to himself as he stepped further into the room to find a spot to wait out your conversation. He’d take all night if he needed to.

Just when he’d located a suitable corner he felt his shoulders buckle under the weight of someone's hand.

“Well if it isn’t Megumi.” Yuji talked through his forced grin and proceeded to drag him to the exact opposite area of where he wanted to go to sit with Nobara.

Yuji placed Megumi square between the two of them and there was a sinister pause. He could feel the anger flowing off the two getting ready to strangle him at any moment.

“Haven’t seen you this week.” Nobara hissed.

“Almost like you were avoiding us.” Yuji growled

Megumi sighed. “I'm sorry I insulted (Y/N). I’m here to apologize.” He really had no time to play their game.

“Why are you telling us that and not her?” Nobara raised her voice.

“I would be if you hadn’t dragged me over here!” Megumi shouted back earning a lot of attention from the partygoers including you.

Your eyes met for a brief moment before you very visibly turned away to pout. He could almost see a little steam cloud coming off your head. He’d be more amused if they weren’t directed at him.

After being released from the terror twins he made his way over to you, cutting into a conversation you had started to purposefully ignore him.

“(Y/N).” Megumi said a bit over you.

This prompted the person you were practically speaking gibberish to, to take the hint and leave

“(Y/N)!” he said a bit more urgently now that the person you’d been talking to had left and you were simply staring at a punch bowl. “I’m sorry for what I said to you. I was jealous.”

This urged you to peek back at him ever so slightly.

“I wasn’t happy because you were giving the client's husband so much attention.”

“I gave you more.” You turned back to the punch in a huff.”

“I know. I was being greedy.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of plane tickets,

“I was hoping, if you’d forgive me, we could go on a trip. So I can make it up to you.”

He held out the tickets with the destination set to paris. He figured you could get all the shopping you wanted done there.

"What do you say?”

“I’ll say, you must think I have pretty low standards for such a half baked apology.” You turned back to the punch bowl to keep yourself from being tempted by megumi’s gesture.

“(Y/N) if you give me a second chance, I promise I’ll do right by you and if I don’t please have my friends beat me up without hesitation.”

You smirked a bit at this but still didn’t let up. “One trip won’t make it up to me. How many days has it been…I think 9 days equals at least 2 trips abroad and 10 local vacations.” You turned around to peck him on the lips.

“Let’s see how much you want me.”

He laughed at the nonsensical math you'd come up with. He slipped his hand around your waist.

“Is that all?”

[useless-catalanfacts]

A bit of trans and crossdressing history of Barcelona (Catalonia's capital city) in the 1920s-1930s

Did "the Carolines" hold the first documented queer march in 1933?

Contestants in the 1934 edition of "Miss Barri Xino" for crossdressers. Photo from the book La Criolla: la puerta dorada del Barrio Chino by Paco Villar.

The Barri Xino, nowadays more commonly known as Raval, is a working class neighbourhood of Barcelona, Catalonia's capital city. Being one of the poorest neighbourhoods in the city, it was the meeting place for people who were outside of the law or the morality of the time, including homosexuals and people who dressed in the way that is associated with the sex they were not assigned at birth (all called crossdressers at the time, this category would include a wide range of people including those we nowadays would call transgender, drag queens, homosexual men, sex workers, as well as thieves and other criminals who used women's clothes for their robberies on passerbies or for hiding). When referring to them, this post will use the term "crossdresser" in this broad meaning, as is used in the sources of the time and was used by the people we are talking about.

At the time, trans people and others who didn't want to follow the time's gender norms faced a lot of hardships. It was not uncommon for men to dress as women and viceversa during Carnival (annual holidays where people dress up, often with satirical purposes, considered a time of turning social convention upside-down) or for men to dress as women in theatre and concert halls. Even though these were situations where many found a place for self-expression and fun, the clothing transgression was limited to very specific ambits and often related to the arts or to things considered funny, but it wasn't normalized to freely exist on the streets outside of the Carnival period. In fact, traditions like Carnival (where the lower class rules and everyone makes fun of the Church and government, where the behaviours that aren't allowed the rest of the year or considered sinful are encouraged) or Saint Agatha's (where women get to form a government for 1 day a year) are found in many cultures around the world as an outlet in repressive societies, and are celebrated in a strongest and wildest way the more repressive their society is.

Carnival in Barcelona's Jardinets de Gràcia (richer area of the city), 1936. Photo from Arxiu Fotogràfic de Barcelona.

Photos of the parties that continued after King Carnestoltes's burial was over in Barcelona's Jardinets de Gràcia, 1935. Context: in Catalan culture, the Carnival holidays are personified in King Carnestoltes (King Carnival). On the last day of the Carnival period, the King is buried in a humourous event called "the burial of the sardine". For the burial, people of all genders dress as mournerers (the women who, often professionally getting paid for it, cry desperately at funerals) and the funeral procession parades on the streets exaggeratedly crying and wailing. Photos from Finestres de Memòria.

When talking about 1930s Catalonia, it's impossible not to mention anarchism, which was the mainstream political ideology of the Catalan working class. We must not assume that leftist movements gave support to queer liberation at the time, it clearly was not the case for most of the CNT and anarchism in general, who saw homosexuality and crossdressing as a bourgeois vice.

Outside of Carnival holidays, it wasn't normalized for people seen as men to walk on the streets wearing women's clothing. The most famous meeting place for those who wanted to wear them was the bar La Criolla, in the Barri Xino/Raval quarter. El Bataclan and El Sacristà were also frequented. Another common meeting place for some of them were the "vespasianes" (public urinals on the streets), where crossdresser AMAB people offered their services as sex workers or stole the wallet of the men who were distracted peeing. According to a witness, the people who crossdressed as women and attended the vespasianes and its surrounding areas were known as the carolines (les carolines). They are the protagonists of the 1933 march.

Sadly, we only have one source of information, so it's difficult to tell how accurate the explanation is. This source is the book Journal du Voleur ("Diary of a Thief") by Jean Genet, where he explains his experiences in Barcelona's crossdressing circles of the 1920s and 1930s when he was one of the crossdressers who stole from men peeing: a carolina. At the time, it was common for anarchists to bomb places frequented by the bourgeoisie, and sometimes other places, too. According to Genet, in 1933 one of these anarchist bombs ended up in one of these vespasianes urinals frequented by the carolines. This sparked one of the first documented queer marches, maybe encouraged by their bad relation with the anarchists.

Genet explains that the carolines were outraged at the destruction of the urinal, and that "[wearing] shawls, mantillas, silk dresses and fitted short jackets, they formed a solemn delegation to place a bouquet of red flowers tied with a gauze crape" on the destroyed urinal. They marched from Paral·lel avenue through Sant Pau street, down the Rambles until Colom statue shouting about what had happened.

Even though the Barcelona City Council talks about these events as true and Barcelona's LGBT associations call it "the first documented LGBT march in history", it's unknown how much of Genet's description is true. Genet was known for his proclivity to embellish and exaggerate real events and, after all, the only source of information is a literary work (memoir). There is no other recorded use of the word carolines to refer to these people, but precisely because of their marginalization it's not a demographic that was often talked about in newspapers or other historicals sources of the time.

Despite the lack of knowledge about the carolines's march specifically, the crossdressing meeting places are well-known, with many photos and witnesses of the time. We also know what happened next: in 1936, the fascists in the Spanish Army did a coup d'état which started the Spanish Civil War, ending with the fascist victory in 1939. About the bars where crossdressers and others used to meet, we know that La Criolla was destroyed by a fascist bomb in August 1938, during the war. Cal Sacristà (which had changed its name to Wu-Li-Chang in 1934) was also destroyed when the fascists were bombing the city. Bataclan was forced to change its name to Rataclán and ended up closing in 1942. The fascist dictatorship of Spain (1939-1978) imposed a strict Nationalcatholic morale and persecuted those who did not follow its strict gender roles (trans people, homosexuals, feminists), national minorities (like Catalans, Basques, Galicians), and political dissidents. The dictatorship even forbid Carnival for years, event though it's a holiday of the Catholic religion (Carnival is the excess before the fasting period of Lent). The only crossdressing that was legally allowed were transformist male artists who imitated famous female stars in theatres and concert halls, and even they had to be discreet. Their life on the streets was persecuted, but they never eliminated the presence of crossdressing in Raval. You can read more about homosexuality and crossdressing during the dictatorship in this previous post, about the Law of Social Danger in this one, about Catalonia's first Pride march (1977) in this one, and as always find out more about Catalan queer people and history in this blog's tag #uselesslgbtfacts.

Information sources: Transvestits en acció by Lluís Permanyer (in Catalan), La Revolta de les Carolines by Leopold Estapé (in Catalan), Vespasiana by Ailo Ribas (in English). A good explanation that helped me contextualize is found in this entry in La Barcelona Diversa (in Catalan).

[hamhn]

𖥔˚ Que linda morena…

tu piel destila miel ◦⋆꙳

[romangolden68]

(( @scott-golden9 aka Hercules)

(( set in da “real world” Big Mistake, Beta (1)

*I have just recently finished my college work for my Political-Science class. I sigh, rubbing my forehead as I have a stress headache from writing an analysis paper. As i am packing up, I text my roommate, asking if hes in the dorm. I pack up my laptop, but before I fully close it... I receive an email stating that there has been a roommate switch. I sigh and clench the bridge of my nose with my hand. First a stressful night, and now this?! Ugh! I slam my laptop shut and pack up. Heading to my dorm-room......*

5 Minutes Later

*I arrive at my dorm hall and scan my keycard to enter my dorm room. I notice however that the paint of the scanner has turned to a metallic gold, odd. This has to be a joke. I scowl and punch in the keycode to fully unlock the door... and yet the smell of potent, unwashed crotch and foot is wafting around me, where is it coming from? I unlock the door and open it, seeing that it is dark inside my dorm room and that the window is shut. I do however get hit with a small wave of actual heat and a much larger wave of quite musky crotch and foot. I cough and enter my room, slamming the door shut. Did my roommate suddenly leave behind a years worth of unwashed socks?! I waft the stale, hot, musky air, trying to find the fan system to get fresh air circulating through the room. However, I accidently enter the bedroom section of the dorm in the darkness, and hit the lightswitch. My eyes are flashbanged and I cough, covering my eyes. Once I feel that my eyes are used to the light, I remove my hand.... only to see something that I wouldve never expected in my entire life...*

Hercules: “Sup Bruv, u thought u culd escape me in da reel wurld? Nah fam, u cnt ‘scape me bruv. Ur mah bitch, and I don let mah bitchez leave meh. So, ‘M ur roomie now bruv, ur beta-bitch of a “roomie” is now mah muski Sneekrs, and I did sum golden decor to get rid of da beta energy of da ruum. Also, u can burrow sum of mah smaller sneakrs frum wen I was a yung Scally Chav. Now, bruv, dere gonna be sum changes around here now. 1st rule change, u belong 2 me now.”

*I gulp…. Im so fucked*

[jeon-ify]

that night : j. yunho - pt. 1

a/n: this is my first actual fic since i’ve just been posting scenarios and requests :3 !! this idea came from listening to ‘you broke me first’ by tate mcrae. its a great song and it reminds me of yunho but toxic yunho. it would kinda be good if you listen to the song while reading !! idk girl i just write

genre: smut, drama, early 20s- mid 20s romance, toxic/dark romance, 18+

warnings: smut, dark romance, toxic!yunho, yunho has a threesome with y/n’s best friends, yunho is a cheater, reader swears a lot, yunho calls reader a psychotic bitch, san is a druggie, alcohol, cocaine, yunho begs, yunho gets sad and guilty, reader claims she moved on, san is annoying as hell, wooyoung is readers bestie!!

“san! i haven’t talked to you in so long, i’m sorry! how have you been?” your phone rang, you look to see that san called you about 20 times. you’ve been ignoring him, since he’s done almost every drug under the sun in the past year since you all have moved to different cities.

“man I called you 6 times. stop playing dumb. yunho’s asking about you again, please call him back. i’m sick of his shit.” san sniffles sharply. you’re sure he’s doing crack again, but when is he not?

you did not want to hear about yunho. you haven’t heard about or seen him in almost 4 years now, recovering from that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~

you call yunho, in hopes that he’d pick up. you left him a voicemail asking if he’d want anything from target when you were off work tonight.

*hello!! it’s yunho, sorry i couldn’t take your call. leave a message and i’ll call back!*

“i’m gonna stop at target, babe. did you want anything? love you, call me back.”

you finish your target run, grabbing a set of shampoo and conditioner and other necessities as you’ve been out of your favorites for a week now. you step out of the car, grabbing your bags and unlocking the door to yunhos apartment. you didn’t live with him, but you practically did since you were there almost every day of the week.

“~yuyu, fuck its so good! so big!” “you fuck us so good oh my god.”

“you’re both so fuckin’ pretty. my god.”

no fucking way.

your heart dropped to your ass, at a loss of every word in the dictionary. you felt like you were being run over by a truck 100 times over.

it felt like every moment with yunho was flashing at once.

he told you he loved you a million times a minute, you thought you were the only one. you thought that yunho would love you and only you, but how could you be so stupid to trust anyone else again?

you walk to where the noise is coming from, tears flooding your eyes, threatening to fall. the door is cracked a little, you see a pile of black hair and red hair mixed, one on top of the other. one of the girls has a tattoo on her wrist while the other has one too— it looks all too familiar.

one tattoo being a moon, the other being a sun.

your best friends.

you want to cut off the star tattoo on your wrist so fucking bad. how could they ever betray you like this? they never approved of yunho, but he’s inside both of them, fucking them on your shared bed. in your (what was once) home.

you didn’t even want to acknowledge the situation, instead you dropped the target bag at the door of the bedroom, leaving as soon as you could.

hours later, yunho calls. no answer.

you stare as your phone rings.

*32 missed calls from yuyu 🫶🏻✨*

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: hey, sry i didn’t call back. where’d u go?

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: babe?

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: y/n, pick up the phone.

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: not funny.

Read at 12:43AM

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: ur reading my fkn messages but ur not answering n its pissing me off

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: alr whatever lmao dnt pick up.

Today at 5:21AM

yuyu 🫶🏻✨: i cnt sleep, thibkin about yoj

*2 missed calls from yuyu 🫶🏻✨*

you watch your phone ring, waiting for the ringing to stop. your tears flow, deciding to call him back.

“baby? my fucking god, i mis-missed you. *hiccup* had me worried sick.” he slurs. he’s fucking crying.?

“you’re a fucking liar. my best friends? you’re drinking, you piece of shit. and you’re fucking crying?”

“relax, they’re not your best friends and i know that cus they did that to you, plus me and you baby, we don’t belong to each other. been wanting to leave. felt so fucking locked up. you won’t let me do what i want, you controlling fucking psychotic bitch.”

what the fuck.?

you watch the time on the phone call increase as he mumbles what you really meant to him.

you feel like you really did trap him, but you both didn’t agree on a poly relationship. for him to fuck your best friends is an insane thing to do to someone.

you end the phone call after 57 minutes of yunho talking about how much he fucking hated you for never letting him fuck your friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“i’m never talking to that piece of shit again and never bring him up to me. i have things to do, i’ll text you.”

you hung up the phone after 35 seconds.

you’ve grown past the situation with yunho, healing and becoming a better person. you were single, traumatized from your past relationships being a burden on you. but, your best friend wooyoung always supported you through and through. he wanted what was best for you, even though he introduced you to yunho. it wasn’t wooyoungs fault that yunho had fucked up (or was already fucked up), he just wanted to help you find someone. you had your own apartment, your own car and your own lash studio. you were booked for days on end, always working and being your own person.

but, with healing comes pain.

you’d occasionally think about yunho, how he’d pamper you in gifts and he’d take you anywhere you wanted. you thought about the nights that you’d cried to him, he’d hold you in his warm chest, making sure you were held and you didn’t feel alone. you sometimes still toss around in bed, thinking yunho was next to you, on your right side. you’d still bake matcha and white chocolate cookies as if he’d eat them with you, a reminder that you loved yunho— as your love language was baking— and every time you see those cookies, your heart begins to ache.

you pick up your phone and text your best friend, as he’s the only person you go to for anything.

—————-

to: woo 🧍🏻‍♀️

y/n: bitch get up

y/n: r u awake yet

y/n: GET THE FUCK UP BRO ITS AN EMERGENCY

y/n: if ur not up in the nect 5 minutes i’m calling the cips

y/n: next *^ & cops^*

y/n: man i just need to talk 😩 san called me

*seen*

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: girl what the FUCK

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: did u call the cops yet

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: is the cop hot

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: bitch WHI CALLED

woo 🧍🏻‍♀️: im calling u rn answer

your best friend calls you in no less than 3 minutes after your series of texts.

“why is san calling you? what’d he want?” wooyoung asks, concern masking his voice.

“woo, i just started feeling like i finally moved on from all that bullshit. he fucking calls me like ‘oh yunho wants to talk to you’ and i’ve been dodging yunho for fucking ever. i know he’s been calling me but-“ you ramble to him. he cuts you off, questioning:

“did you ask him what he wanted from you?”

“it doesn’t matter because im over it and im over fucking everything. its all bad news and i don’t wanna go down that hole again, woo. if you’re so curious ask him yourself. i don’t care and i honestly don’t wanna know.”

“okay. i won’t ask.” wooyoung says in defense. he has a sixth sense, and his sense is telling him that maybe something is wrong with yunho, or maybe he wants to try to give you the closure you deserve. though he already gave you closure— just not the kind you expected from someone you’ve loved for 6 years.

but a part of you really wanted to know why he called. a little portion of your heart still aches for yunho, but you’re healing, remember?

the phone call ends after small talk, and you stare at yunho’s contact info for 7 minutes. you open messages and read the last message he sent you. you have him blocked, but you know it’s his number.

May 19th, 2021 at 3:21AM

*You have new messages from (***)***-**** *

(***)***-****: baby, i’m so sorry.

(***)***-****: you won’t ever forgive me, but i’ve changed. my star, my love, my moon, my sun.

(***)***-****: i can’t sleep anymore.

(***)***-****: i’ll leave you alone, okay?

December 10th, 2022 at 1:21AM

(***)***-****: i can’t live without you.

(***)***-****: it’s been so fucking long

(***)***-****: js need to see ur face. keep staring at the same pic but it was so long ago

(***)***-****: my messages are green, why are they green?

(***)***-****: i met someone today, his name started with an M but i can’t remember what his name was

(***)***-****: he’s helping me heal. ik i don’t deserve to heal but i wanna be better bc u deserve better

(***)***-****: i wanna be the one for u my love

(***)***-****: i fucked up but pls believe me when i say i’ll change for u bb

(***)***-****: i’m going to sleep, goodnight my angel

January 8, 2023 at 7:08PM

(***)***-****: everythibg remjnds me of u baby

(***)***-****: ur everywhere i go

(***)***-****: ur everything i see

(***)***-****: mingi won’t let me live diwn what i did to u

(***)***-****: i deserve to fucking die

(***)***-****: i really lost u

Today at 10:32PM

(***)***-****: i still miss you, my love.

(***)***-****: want you to carry my children and be in my life forever.

(***)***-****: i’ve bettered myself. i’ve changed, please let me see you again.

*seen*

shortly after you open his book of messages, your phone rings.

*2 missed calls from (***)***-**** *

———————

you watch your phone ring twice, your heart dropping 6 times over, you didn’t think he would be this bad about it, but maybe he aches for you the same way you ache for him.

maybe yunho is sorry. maybe he changed and maybe he wants to be with you again.

your phone rings again, the same phone number showing up, as your shaky hands press the green button.

silence. the first 8 seconds is silent as yunho tries to process and come up with what he’ll say to you.

he tried calling you for 3 years on end, you’d blocked him. he was so used to your voicemail being the only thing left of you to heal him.

“h-hello?” there it is. the voice you refused to hear for almost 4 years, its there. it’s no longer only in your head, it’s his voice on the other side of the 7 inch screen against your ear.

his voice makes your stomach twist and turn, your hands sweating as your chest forms a hole within itself.

“you don’t need to say anything, just listen to me, hm? you can hang up any second you want, but if your heart still aches for me the way mine does for you, you’d listen.

my love. i’ve ruined you and tore you to shreds. i don’t even know where i begin. you are the most precious thing that has ever happened to me. the minute you entered my life, i took you for granted and fucked up. i didn’t realize how much i loved you or how much you meant to me until you left. that night is a blur to me, you didn’t deserve any of that. you deserve to be treated like royalty, you deserve to be treated in the most beautiful and enchanting way because that is how you made me feel. but i went and fucked that up for the both of us. i didn’t mean what i said to you. i was drunk but that’s no excuse to talk to you the way i did. it’s not right. it never was.

the only time i ever find myself doing right is when i beat myself up for doing you wrong.

i stay at the same apartment, san comes over and does whatever he needs to do but i haven’t touched a drug since you left me. the minute you left was the minute i decided to better myself. mingi is helping me be the person i want to be for you. my god, i hate myself for everything ive done to you. i’m not asking for your forgiveness, i know you won’t give it to me. but i want you to know that i still am here and i still love you. i love you better and i love you the way you deserve.

are you still with me, y/n?”

he breathes. you breathe. you finally breathe.

“i- yunho. i don’t know how to feel about any of this, you really hurt me and i can’t trust anyone anymore. you fucked my best friends, in our room. i don’t even know why i even looked at my phone or why i even answered san when he called me. i’m doing better, but you calling me again is really making me feel like i’m falling down that hole again.” you try your hardest to not let him hear you grow weak to his confession. his heart caved in, and his stomach grew empty when you’d brought up his mistake.

“i understand. i won’t push or do anything to make you uncomfortable. but, i want to have coffee with you, or one of us can come over and we can talk about this, hm?”

you sigh. you felt like all the healing and all the self care you’ve been doing is going straight down the drain.

but do you wanna listen to what he has to say?

“i’m free tomorrow afternoon. but i can’t stay long.” is all you say. you don’t wanna keep this conversation going, nor do you even want to talk about this at all. you are growing selfish; only wanting to see yunho because you miss the attention you used to get from him.

“as long as i get to see you, its okay. i look forward to talking to you, y/n. been waiting forever. is 4:30 fine with you?” he sniffles and lets out a calm chuckle from within his throat.

he’s aching just as much as you are.

“yes. goodnight, yunho.”

“goodnight, star.” that nickname. the same nickname that dragged you into his lore. he speaks lightly. the phone call ends and he sounds like an angel, making your head spin and your heart confused.

you don’t know whether to trust yunho again because, maybe, he is sorry. maybe he wants to make things right with you.

for the rest of the night, you cannot sleep. you don’t decide on going tomorrow, you really don’t want to face yunho after what he did to you. after 4 hours of tossing and turning, rereading texts from yunho, drinking water, and listening to nothing but the buzzing in your ear, you finally manage to get sleep.

—————————————————————————————

first fic!! yay!! i know yall are gonna hate yunho because what he did to y/n is trash and ass and all of the above. i hope you guys start to understand yunho further in the story. idk what im gonna do with this fic but i hope i come up with part 2 in a timely manner cus i dont want it to be dragged lol. but!!!!!!!!!! i hope you all like this fic just as much as i HATE it 😋

[desimonewayland]

Paul Rudolph’s Beekman Place apartment in 1967, with a bedroom featuring curtains of plastic beads, shag carpeting and an advertising image over the bed.

Ezra Stoller for House Beautiful, via Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/10/16/arts/design/paul-rudolph-architect-met.html?unlocked_article_code=1.S04.JXkJ.O9e2lkGdqLI-&smid=nytcore-ios-share&referringSource=articleShare&tgrp=cnt