Isabella Yao Whore ❤️

About Saitama

I reckon it’s bloody brilliant—happy vibes all round. Had me a go once, right? Some lass in Lys—gods, those hands! Slidin’ like silk, tension meltin’ away, I was half-pissed on wine, thinkin’, “This beats a battlefield.” But—here’s the kicker—it’s not all roses. Some twits think it’s a free pass to a brothel. Pissed me off, that. It’s art, ya dolts, not a quick shag! Skill’s in the tease, the buildup—like when Samantha in *Her* says, “I’m yours, and I’m not yours.” That’s the vibe—close, but untouchable.

Miami Guns

Sect Leader Yao scoffed, his eyes narrowed in contempt. Surely enough, Jin Guangyao walked with his head hung low, refusing to raise his chin high enough that he might mistakenly meet .

By the end of the night, I’m exhausted but happy. Yao’s got this way of throwin’ you curveballs, but it’s all part of the ride. I head home, thinkin’ about the day. It

How Chiung Yao shaped Chinese ideas about love and death