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[webuydiamond]

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[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 7

[prompt: praise kink]

male reader x shen xiaoting

7k words

Well - from a glance, Xiaoting is flawless.

Every photographer makes the same movement as soon as she steps foot onto the stage - almost as if she's commanding them - but it's not a fair competition and she knows it.

The tiny black dress wrapped around her waist, hugging every meticulous angle in its stretch, isn't exactly the most practical of options, but then again nor was the sleeveless cut or the low-backend, nor the slit in the skirt that shows however much leg you're curious to see, nor the five-inch Louboutins with little ribbons at the ankles, crystals in their mesh like a real-life glass slipper - so, truly, anything about this outfit.

But in this industry, red carpets are about one thing: image.

(Something Xiaoting wields in excess.)

She pauses the subtle sashay of her hips mid-way across the stage, and pivots around, straightening out the waves in her hair, done-up and perfect-in-pink, over her shoulders. She lets the flash of every camera illuminate the swell of her lips in full - reflect and shimmer in the sequence of diamonds dangling under her ears. But it's all in that little smirk, the tilt of her chin. Everything working together to sell the moment; how breathtakingly beautiful she is, how proud, confident and seemingly indifferent to all the commotion happening around her - to every person calling her name and pleading for her to look in this specific direction.

You can watch how deliberate she holds her posture. See it. Understand it. Watch how she tips her head. The genuine kind of smile that could drive anyone to absolute ruin.

Maybe the more obvious: how the cameras love her - love the flash, the shine and glitter and sparkle of the fabric, love the turn of a heel onto where her legs are poised, her profile a perfect angle for every shot and more and more and more.

There's not even the slightest suggestion of just how overwhelmed she is.

-

"You're not supposed to be back here," is the very first thing you hear, as soon as Xiaoting catches your reflection in the vanity mirror.

You hold up a press pass with a headshot that loosely looks like you. Like in a really dark, kind of out-of-focus photo sort of way. Xiaoting simply lets out a slightly disapproving sigh.

"Someone's probably looking for that, you know."

"What's the worst thing that could happen? Someone doesn't get to ask you what your favorite color is, or what you had for breakfast? God forbid we need to know your TMI."

She slips the crystal bracelet off the end of her narrow wrist and places it gently next to the red carpet gear strewn across the surface in front of her. A necklace. The earrings, similar in their shimmer. A matching headband, an evening clutch in white. It's all sitting, not necessarily disorganized, but it's in the mess that Xiaoting is all the while searching for things; lip gloss and makeup, small hair clips.

"You could get us both in trouble, for starters."

When she looks up at you, briefly, there's an attempt at a scolding expression - a short-lived one, how it quickly gives way to a grin, a laugh, all the things she can't help when it's you in particular.

"I'll make sure it finds its way back where I found it," and with a hand over her shoulder, "or at least somewhere close enough. If anyone asks."

Xiaoting bounces an impossibly sweet smile off the mirror at you when her eyes find yours again. And while she starts unclipping pins from her hair, lifting and tousling and adjusting the curls into a more familiar shape, you're almost entranced in the way her shoulders loosen and her eyelashes flutter. In this light, she's even more devastating: an illusion of something both fragile, and immensely resilient.

"At the very least," she says, "I won't hold my breath for anyone else to find their way into my dressing room anytime soon."

She gets a hold of a simple clip, pulls a stray strand of pink off her cheek, and tucks it behind her ear. The gesture is fluid, elegant even, and so singular.

She really is, gorgeous.

The fact that you have to occasionally remind her of that is a different maddening issue entirely. You've always wondered - and always will continue to wonder, really - why it is the prettiest girls seem to have the hardest time understanding they're beautiful. It makes you crazy, makes your head hurt.

There's an entire world worth of things for her to fixate her attention on: her job, her fans and career; a hundred more names and faces to learn - people who would probably agree to hang the stars in the sky for her, given the chance, the mere opportunity. But instead she can only bring herself to stare into a mirror and compare notes and point out all these things she doesn't feel ready for.

This interview, or her performance, or the next.

"They're talking about me. Those 'insiders'," she explains, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the voices in the hallway. "Said, my styling this past year has been too 'soft.' Too 'girly.' No one's buying it," and with a pout: "now, or then, apparently"

"Always works for me," you tell her, in a way that implies it's absolutely none of their business at the end of the day; what colors Xiaoting shows up in, how she wears her makeup and dresses, her shoes or perfume.

She floats her fingers up to the dip of her collarbone, weaving them into your hand. The contented look on her face, now a near permanent fixture in the space she keeps between the two of you, suggests that of all her accessories - gifts and borrowed things she wears in a perpetual game of dress-up - you're the one she would prefer most.

"Well," she says, fixing you a mischievous twist of her brow, "you'd say that if I was up there wearing nothing at all."

"Oh, not a doubt in my mind."

(As usual, the both of you laugh far too much.

As usual, neither of you manage to care.

Your lives have always been about soft edges. A little nonsense here and there, so long as it means having more of her.)

She brings your knuckles to her lips, careful and reserved, and holds the tips of her fingers gently to your neck. "How much more do you have tonight?"

"The rest of the hour is probably asking too much." You help Xiaoting onto her feet, arms wrapping her middle, and with a kiss dropped into her hair, you tell her, "should probably report in, let someone know I haven't gotten myself expelled."

"Thought you said you were a terrible liar."

"Oh, I am," you say. "That's just how much trouble I've already been making for myself tonight."

Xiaoting watches you kiss her shoulder, her neck, all in amusement, eyes never breaking contact as your lips brush and linger against the delicate shape of her wrist. A shiver in her exhale - almost a laugh, an 'I'm listening,' in a form of its own - and you find her body shifting into a natural and familiar hold; the outline of her mouth so unbelievably tempting when it parts so naturally - that when it comes down to a choice: Xiaoting against you, you and her in her private room, the hustle and bustle, and rush-hustle of the building and people and machines outside your door -

It really doesn't take too much convincing.

"Fifteen minutes. They'll start wondering," you tell her, already dipping forward to capture her in your arms. She falls right back, perfectly content as though she doesn't belong anywhere else. "We'd have to be really quick."

"You're bad," Xiaoting hums, winding further into your arms, smiling between the warm, warm kisses you're trailing along the collar of her dress, where the zipper is resting and ready to be drawn down.

The moment is candid: you pressing your lips into the bare skin of her shoulder, following it up with something that's part laugh, and part the kind of sigh people make after too long without sleep. You're already struggling against the curve of her waist - the swell of her hips, all her curves - while your nose nuzzles in deeper, a delicate exploration into the bend of her neck, against her shoulder, the hint of perfume. 

"Only one of us can be perfect, sweetheart." The damn truth, even if she hears it all the time and from everyone else. "You're gonna have to settle.”

You watch her expression melt into that self-composed, self-confident mien when you say it - in a quiet, contented kind of way; an ethereal sort of assurance. As though she was never meant to be touched by anyone, much less held by you, but somehow decided to allow it nonetheless. That look in her eye, it makes your heart twist. Every damn time.

"What about an accident," she muses, "something keeping you longer. Twenty maybe?"

"Oh," you chuckle. "Those happen in the hallway and parking lot. Where everyone can see. Never behind the scenes, for a totally unlikely and unrelated reason."

"Technicalities."

She turns to face you, fully, eyes lit and shimmery under the room's lighting; pink hair, all shades of glitter and silk and the smoothest, warmest skin. Your touch grazes up her sides, palms smoothing over the fine print, the sequins in the fabric, her hands all the while busy weaving, needily, around your waist, underneath the line of your shirt, finding and tracing along the ridges in your hips and spine.

Xiaoting wants you - plain and simple as that. The look on her face says as much.

And if you don't touch her now, kiss and feel her against you - all of it at once - she'll make sure you regret ever prioritizing anything over her. Over the two of you, and how perfectly and neatly you fit together, even if that means you're both absent for press calls, or a segment, or an interview she can't be late to. She'll blame you and it'll be okay.

"Fourteen minutes now," you inform her. "If it’s something you're counting."

"Give or take a few," Xiaoting smiles. Her words slip against your cheek, hot and honey-coated. It's tempting. Her teeth find your jawline and the gentle nip against your skin is hard to ignore. "Did you lock the door?"

"Believe it or not, that was the first thing I did."

And with her hips in your palms, you steal a kiss, because you can - because she's kissing you right back - her forearms wrapping over your shoulders, holding you tight around your neck, and, ahh - Xiaoting's mouth - how eagerly, so desperately, she parts your lips and slips her tongue over your teeth, humming, mumbling happily into a second and third and fourth kiss. Then, once the heat of the moment sweeps in, melting into something slower, sweeter, lingering, a little deeper, it's another.

And another after that.

She leans into you, the rise and fall, slow-down-then-start-again, of her chest and of her breathing and of the tiny, stifled noises she’s kissing into your lips. Only you're pinching the fabric around her waist, slowly lifting the hem of her skirt further up her thighs and reminding her that there's a promise for slow later, that she can take all the time in the world to map and remember the planes and edges of your body; trace the curves of every little sensitive spot and learn again how she fits into your hands, in the time and space that's left to the two of you alone.

"Thirteen-"

"Minutes," she echoes breathily against your ear and over the sound of her fingers in your belt. "I know. Got it."

Xiaoting's hasty. She has to be; reaching and fumbling to pop open your pants while the heat of her mouth finds you first, her tongue sliding smooth across your throat, chin, the warmth and the taste, then along the corner of your mouth - your tongue chasing hers and turning it into a mess that's as intimate and satisfying as it is clumsy; breath catching in both your mouths, hands intertwining, needing the contact with just as much fervent abandon.

Off, off, off, she's murmuring into you, thumbs perched dangerously on your waist, dipping into the fabric, tracing the rim, taking a tease down a little farther with each lazy caress, and, in the very back of your mind, there's a small voice in agreement that insists you are most definitely in no hurry at all.

It grows louder when the small shape of Xiaoting's palm is all the way down the rise of your pants, all over where you're beginning to grow hard - straining and twitching and almost painfully, impatiently interested. You hold her closer and clutch harder because the need is like a burn - one that's seared itself comfortably, wonderfully between your hips, where you feel each brush and curve and fond stroke of her touch.

Her eyes lift to meet yours, gleaming and knowing and laughing, no doubt aware that you're both going to be wrecked no matter which of these games she wins.

"Nothing we can't solve here and now." She tells you.

"True."

"I'll get my mouth on you later, make it all better."

"Later?" Your voice, completely a mess and breaking just enough, forces its way between a kiss that feels anything but. You're pleading for her, into her lips. "Oh, is that a promise, sweetheart?"

"A promise," Xiaoting gasps. "Or a threat. Depends how fast you're ready for me."

"Hush." And you hold her mouth open with yours, devour and drink the sounds falling from her tongue, each one that starts off shallow then trails deeper and deeper and deeper, until her hands have settled over you, and her fingers are finally pushing below the hem, and working the length of your cock, up and down and along it all.

"Hey,” she says, far too inviting, “aren't you supposed to be, like, tearing off this dress by now?"

Xiaoting smirks up at you. With a slight motion of her hand, the other having come to wrap fully around your shaft, the two fingers twisting along your tip, spreading the beading moisture into a long stroke.

"Very gentlemanly of you, wanting to keep it all nice and put together-" and with a wiggle of her brows, "-unsuspicious."

You clench your teeth through a gasp - a jolt at the sudden brush of her fingertips over the base, further down. Xiaoting has that mischief to her - she always has - a certain inclination to press and test the boundaries until they're unrecognizable, to poke and prod where she shouldn't, only the slightest bit concerned.

"Trust me, I would. Only this is a dress I can't afford to ruin, sweetheart." You're leaning her against the vanity, freeing one of her hands to press around behind her, against the cold, cluttered countertop, feeling how the sharp breath in her lungs goes soft and hot immediately, wanting.

"In that case," she tells you, a knowing tilt in her mouth, "you'll just have to ruin me in it."

That's a little closer to your budget given how fast your arm slips under her hip, pulling her up onto the vanity and angling her into you. Her skirt ruffles and follows, the material all too eager to keep you and the lithe frame of her body nice and snug together. There's that sharp gasp in her chest again, at the hand you're running up her thighs; an approval to your arrangement in the sound of her laughter, to your kiss, and all the fever-filled strokes jerking your cock that she's busying herself with again.

You can feel an urge you both share and want to make real and tangible, to peel down and past and over those tiny black panties; feel the heat rising, the wetness there, and all the eager, eager noises of her pleasure.

"Ten minutes." Your teeth are grazing into her lip, her mouth, while she whimpers so pretty into your throat. "Does that put any ideas in your head?"

"Nearly everything." Xiaoting lets your pants fall and uses the back of her heel to skid them down around your feet. "But maybe, especially your cock right here, if you’re going to slide it so slowly over me-" she sucks on her next breath, holding her hand where her panties are; smoothing against you with her hips rocking forward.

You feel her head drop, slightly, when she whispers into a heated kiss, "right between, the most tender way, where I'm aching the most."

"I bet you'd look beautiful with it," you say, all kinds of things, leaning and mumbling into her neck, all that exposed skin. "My cum on you. Sitting so good right here, in such a tight little-"

She stops your teasing with her kiss, pushing forward to the point where her ass is bumping right against your hips, your hand, your cock; coaxing you in closer.

And then, a particularly stern warning, probably warranted, sneaks out through the bite of her lip; just barely restrained: "I swear to god if you make a mess anywhere - don’t, if you know what's best for you.”

"That's a pretty roundabout way of asking me to cum inside you, Xiaoting. Wording matters."

"Telling." Her smile is all kinds of sly; all for you to witness and tuck safely in your pocket later. "Not asking."

"We’ll see what we can do with nine minutes," you tell her, and your cock is snug against the lace of her underwear - right where she's so fucking wet - you can already hear it in the little, jerking huffs in her voice and on her breath and how your hands are touching her through the fabric. How between hot, clumsy kisses, she's lifting and drawing her body as close as possible and curling into you.

(God.)

"Easy," she mouths, all hot and hazy as she drags the lacy band of elastic aside. It's your turn to inhale and jerk and gasp, but there's hardly anything there to catch you, just her whisper that says, "there you go, honey, fill me up real slow. Right to the very, very top," her voice arching high when you've begun to nudge your cock into her, opening her up and up and up with a slow, steady thrust. "Just - like - that."

And in the seconds, maybe minutes (you’re trying not to lose track), that follow, you are holding your breath against the heat blossoming through her cheek. Against Xiaoting, flushed and whimpering, hands buried in her dress and her hips starting to roll back on your cock. It's a tiny adjustment; nowhere to go but deeper, further - grinding together however you can manage.

It's one thing to love each other quietly, discretely and with all that discretion.

It's another entirely, in times like these, to give in to a raw-edge impulse that hits suddenly and leaves just as fast. Your hips snap in and in and in, Xiaoting's chest rising and rising, her head turned and pressed into the shoulder of your shirt, her hand already caught in a fistful of sleeve. And you - the friction is so soft and so good, a slick, easy glide of your cock - full - all the way to the very last inch.

Just her seedy, whimpering whine fills the back of your neck and your ear, and her arms and her legs locked in around you, like a coil ready to burst, that ache coming to a head.

The ends of her hair are soft and sweet where you gather a fistful of pink around your wrist, hold - pull, like a taut string. Xiaoting gasps a fluttering note as her chin tips up, the smooth canvas of her throat begging to be kissed and roughed up in just the right places. Reddening like the insides of her thighs, the heat there, where they're pinched around your waist - delicate little marks of where you're fucking her open and bare and deep and so well.

You could drink up each and every noise - all the keening and humming, the ruffled, strung-out sounds; how you're both breathing into a shared mess of gasping and panting, of Xiaoting whimpering into your throat, clinging on like she'll die otherwise. "Faster," she pleads all desperate and urgent. "More. Fuck this pussy like it deserves, don't you want it? So wet, can't you feeling how I'm aching?"

You can. Hot and wet and absolute.

You can feel the shudder-wreck, the absolute throe - there's not an ounce left between you; nothing but her slick, warm cunt clutching and hugging your cock, letting it stretch her apart and fill her again and again, the little ridge between your hips slipping over her clit on a forward, upward stroke and grinding there, with a shaky hand cradling her lower back for support while you drive back into the thrust.

"Ting, fucking christ - Ting, your tight little pussy is incredible." You groan into her skin. "Taking me, fucking, taking every, last, inch-"

"I can feel you fucking throbbing," Xiaoting tells you, all teasing and exasperated as she lets your name turn into a series of vibrating hums against your lips. "You're going to make me fucking lose it, the way you're hitting me inside."

See, you fit together, inside-and-outside so perfect; that when you begin to really fuck Xiaoting, when she's making it clear, over, and over, yes, harder, give it to me, and the table she's sitting on is giving away each-and-every one of her whimpers, you lose yourself in the rhythm and pace and the fact that Xiaoting's creaming cunt is working itself hot and messy and pulsating around you; so fucking tight, tight, - slick all around - almost drawing you in, then resisting and tensing every-time your cock finds just the deepest angle.

It's something to push, something that makes you greedy and drive her ass into the cabinet even more; make sure you're slipping along her walls just enough, and doing so with every few inches or less that you're managing to drive, working over a pressure so sensitive it might be making her see stars, every time a thumb digs a little deeper into her hip bone.

"All the way, baby," she's saying, whispering, making you want to fuck the words out of her in broken pieces. "So. Close. Just a little-"

She's gone, her back arched - bending into an incredible sight. And there's the most beautiful look on her face, even under the frantic-urgent rush. Your hands are all over her: pressing into the divots above her hips; petting the expanse between her tits, then down again, feeling out her ribcage, her belly, in between her thighs and parting them wider - like if she were any more spread open, she'd be coming right off the table.

Then, the thumb tangled into the sleeve of her dress, the rough pad of the other rubbing circles over her swollen clit - here you'll figure she'll cum; she's never shy about it - but it's more a question of how many times. How it always builds up and comes apart.

You're obsessed, really, with the details: her eyelids fluttering, the sounds of her skin sliding down onto the cabinets, her lips that can never get themselves closed.

"Oh, Ting," you're panting, licking all over her parted mouth, "do you need-"

Her nails begin to cut half-crescents into the small of your back, where she's been gripping at you; a moan falls straight out from her tongue, straight into your own, the closest she'll ever come to asking for anything: but it's easy.

"You're so fucking pretty, baby, I'll give you whatever you need-"

You slide your fingers higher up her folds, pushing onto her hot cunt right over the spot where your cock is disappearing inside her.

"I know that's what you need to be fucked silly, right? Need some extra friction so I can have the entire inside of this fucking cunt dripping-"

Xiaoting makes a noise that tells you, good guess. And you're playing her closer and closer to her orgasm, watching her teeth sink into her own lip, knowing that she's the one on a timer - which makes it all the easier, because you know exactly what to say next, because you've played this game enough - when you've already been fucking her and fingering her through one or two and her noises are telling you her body needs just one more, and then, the words usually roll right out, not the slightest bit contrived:

"That's it, sweetheart, you look so fucking good. So, so pretty cumming on my cock, baby. You're fucking gorgeous, you know that? I can't get enough of you."

Her mouth falls open, eyes screwing tight with it - the praise, the way you can talk her right into it every fucking time - the way it all but kills her: even when she's getting pumped full of pre-cum and sleeved around your cock like a glove, you know that sometimes the words are the only thing she's chasing, and her jaw starts to trembling just like the rest of her. This full body tension, head to toe of perfection you're whispering in her ear. She's pressing her heels harder than before against the back of your legs, digging, her whole chest shaking for a gasp of air she doesn't seem to ever be able to fully catch.

"But god, I wish you were looking at me," you're begging, sincere, with a deep sort of pining, when you get the the sharp twist of her neck, like it takes everything in her, then, like it's a miracle - those lidded, still-water eyes focused right on you. "I want to make you fall apart, just looking at me, sweetheart."

(Your poor heart. An obsession. So in love with her.)

The kiss you steal from her lips is deeper, your tongues playing a familiar song, the push, pull - how easy and perfect she fits.

When she cums, it always starts quiet, not like what she's just started doing: the kind of cries and moans that begin to make it past her teeth, desperate and panting, her fingers crushing down in place where they're pressed to your skin. Those whimpers that start quiet, get loud, fast, and then Xiaoting's arching right up from the table and clenching her entire body. With you inside her, she's so wrapped up in how good it is, the pleasure spiking past her pussy and into her veins.

"Shh," you soothe her, lovingly brushing her hair to the side when her breath shudders hard; the mess you made, sliding a palm against her cheek when the first few tears gather, the way they always do when Xiaoting's overwhelmed and torn down in such a good, beautiful way. 

You could kiss her, when you feel the curve of her trembling lips. You do, again-again; slip and wet and parted and sliding when Xiaoting lets you hold the base of her chin between your forefinger and thumb, and bring your mouths together like that.

You could hold the moment longer. Keep kissing her and not moving - except Xiaoting has that meek, "Fuck me," mumbled into your open mouth, her half-wits returning and giving her the very start of a wicked grin - all sloppy with orgasm. "However you want, whatever will make you cum fast-"

"Turn around for me. I'm going to show you how pretty you are, looking just like that-"

"Y-Yeah- '' Xiaoting is trying, her joints trembling as she moves her body. She's so good, listening, rolling onto the surface of the table with her ass up, palms spread out and supporting her into this perfect line. Xiaoting's defining the curve: where her lower back and tight little ass begins and ends, right up into her shoulders and spine. Her hair has fallen across one side, and now you can finally see how much she's blushing in the mirror, the messes that her eye makeup has smudged into, how good she's been, and now how sweet and pliable and worked open her muscles are.

The view alone could have you blowing your load before you can even do it properly inside her.

But, god - the fact that her dress was hanging down on one shoulder, then on none, exposing her naked skin entirely; the fact that you can't resist grabbing a hand around a waist-full of her body and dragging her back closer, slotting your thighs under hers and her ass up against you, cock sliding into her still-clenching cunt without the help of your hands, just finding it where it belonged. You give it to her like she's meant to take. Fast. Hard. Deep. Making sure each-time your cock is in its base-deep place and sliding right back out, pulling slick, creamy strands out from her fucked-out pussy. Bathing you in her want, her need, pooling along the base of your cock; seeping everywhere.

There's just so much of it. The sounds echoing off the empty walls, so distinct, unmistakable, so full and thick. The way your whole body seems to tighten and tense along with hers - everything tight, you can see it, your eyes sweeping from Xiaoting's thighs to the reflection of how she just takes you. Shaking each time, the lines of her body wobble forward when your hips land a heavy thrust and slide along every bit velvety-wet inside her: no room for your cum when she's this overflowing, you figure, wondering how full of it she could even get.

"Fuck," the word just slides off you. "Fucking god, you're the best fuck," you praise her. Like heaven.

Because Your hand is in her hair again, wrapped up in and smoothing over the tangles; feeling her like silk. But now you're grabbing too - holding her steady, a fistful between the roots; you want her back arched, canted just that one angle higher that you know would push her past all limits.

“Oh my god,” she gasps out, once your get her knee planted up on the counter - once she's spread herself even further for the weight of your body. "That's it - holy shit, please-more-"

There are little whispers too - stuff that makes your cock twitch a few times, pulsing in warning - not even fully aware that she's cumming down all over your waist, praises like the hottest of filth, please and yes and I need it and fuck and fucking christ, keep going and don't stop don't stop please baby I'll do anything anything-

Xiaoting's voice reaches the same high pitch she does when her clit is getting hit, not sure what part of her body you're touching or just the overwhelming sensation, but god she doesn't know which way to turn her neck and face. She just ends up taking it all in, breathing in the gravity of the moment - her reflection, yours, the feeling - a tremor building up, her eyes flickering back-forth when she realizes they've started to close, forcing herself to look at the both of you.

You fuck your cock through each inch of her quivering cunt, each one hotter, tighter, wetter than the last - until you're spilling cum - cumming deep and fast inside her -

Reaching so far she can feel the thick pool of it getting fucked further into her with every shallow snap of your hips; her ass flushing back up against your stomach. Filling her to the brim - enough to feel it drip and seep and slide.

And she doesn't stop, the way she has her hips rolling down your length and staying there, your cock rooted into her deepest spot. If there's one more thing she gets off on it's being filled, milking the remnants, emptying you, and - because she's almost fucking teasing you, you feel it when she's clenching the remaining dredges right out of your body; out and leaking hot along your over-sensitised skin. The sharp sting of it has your hands tight on her waist, her ass spilling through the gaps of your fingers - deciding what you'll do.

"Three minutes," she says, panting, "is enough-"

You squeeze through the sculpted round of her ass. Spank it. Knead it.

"You want me to fuck another one into you - can you take that? You'd be such a good girl if you can take a fucking like that."

"I mean it," Xiaoting rasps, hips still lifted and angled toward you, as she meets you in the mirror; her eyes looking past your reflection, still coming down, wrecked and fucked raw, but making the message clear. "I'll make it easy for you."

And with that's she got her hand on your still-hard cock; not nearly enough softness in her voice for the rough grip and the sloppy pumping - fucking filth out of her still, if there was ever any hope of getting it out the way she's pulling and using and moving the slick all over you, spilling it onto the floor. "Think I can make you cum again, right here and now."

The thing about Xiaoting is:

She makes bad decisions, but always with the best intentions. That's why you always know what she'll say.

Because it's almost always the same answer: a pair of crossed wrists and a coy-eagerness that's enough of an invitation for you to make use of what she's given.

And this is the exact way you find yourself dragging the fabric of her dress down her shoulder, her middle, her breasts falling back down from their bounce when you unwind it, then twisting the end tightly into itself before shoving it into the soft valley of her mouth.

I love your tits, you know that?" you tell her, mouth open and hot against her shoulder blade. “So fucking pretty all over, Ting, your entire body's amazing and it does things to me-if I could, I would keep my cum inside this tiny little pussy, over and over, keep filling it. Make your tummy swell for me, sweet baby, and never let a single drop-"

"Do it-" she moans out, words garbled by the fabric. Her eyes are wide and full of the darkest innocence, like anything could happen; anything you wished. "Do it, your fucking cock, want to feel you-"

You spank her again, and she keens.

The mirror is showing you how her chest reddens under the rush of your hands kneading at her, almost violent, before sliding down the back-insides of her thigh, pushing, "But, what you look like with my cock buried inside you, stretched out and still so fucking tiny around me."

It's not new. It's what makes Xiaoting give you the dirtiest, sexiest little hum around the cloth wedged inside her mouth.

Then her cunt clenches down on your cock, and you're groaning, "christ," watching the way her face tugs at the stretch, watching, when her back is pushed out again - the angle. You're lining up, sucking in the full and naked and glistening display of her body before letting your hips fuck into hers again. It feels even better than the first time: tightening like a vise around the thickness of you, your cum pouring back inside her, then with her eyes fixed to yours in the mirror, you get to watch her lips straining; a drooling, whimpering mess.

Then. You're slamming her waist into the table. Rough, reckless. Desperate to reach another edge, rough enough that she can barely look up from her bowed elbows, elegant features twisted into something a little more awful, a little more pretty - just there, and - and - 

A third time. Four. More.

Xiaoting's whimpering, just so spent she has nothing else left, your cock filling her up so full and hot with your spill; she's sloppy and flushed and you're pressing her up into the cool surface of the mirror, with her legs giving in when she collapses over her heels and nearly tumbles over; her own body weighing nothing.

If she asked, "carry me," in any way, you'd be on her like clockwork; you'd get her turned around into a loose-limbed pile, a leg thrown over each of her waist; she'd already have her cheek nestled against your jaw, halfway asleep, a warm bundle pressed up and waiting to get tucked into bed and swept into all of the things that would make her purr and melt; blankets and warm-clothes and showers and tending.

You'd always make a show out of sweeping her off her feet. Because the thing is, Xiaoting deserves it.

And you let her know that:

"You're always the sweetest, aren't you? Taking a fucking like that," you tell her, burying the dying gasps of a laugh right into the sweat-sticky back of her neck. You can feel her throat vibrating out a small sound, her brain almost definitely not able to formulate words, maybe only just registering the tones of your voice. "You are just so breathtakingly gorgeous, babe, the prettiest baby. The fucking world must be upside down, because no one tells you nearly often enough."

And -

Xiaoting - really, above all else, is fucking gorgeous. Because her tired laugh echoes a small part of itself straight down your spine, filling all the dips between each of your vertebrae. Genuine smile and all.

It has your skin crawling back to life, warming up.

There's a murmured 'thank you' said somewhere into the back of her hand, between her pinky finger and her ring, a small, stifled breath that pulls on her tired voice; it's a sleepy sound, like honey, and maybe that's why you choose to tell her one more time.

You glance at the clock on the wall. It's been a good fifteen-plus-extra minutes. You can live with that.

"Told you we'd be late," you say, smoothing out the fabric of her dress.

Which means this is the second time she says: "Nothing there we can’t solve with a little..."

"Carelessness?"

"Misdirection. Pretty convenient for some of us," Xiaoting murmurs with the lingering sweetness of your kiss on her lips. "Who have that charming talent with words."

She looks up, wincing and dabbing at the dried tracks on her cheeks where her eyelashes have swept away all the makeup and tears, like a soft brush sweeping away the layer of snow, she lets her head rest there in your palm and the other soothes, warm, on the back of her neck - her shoulders a little slack when you feel her whole body relax.

"Love you," Xiaoting says, after a heavy breath; a shaky exhale, just under her tongue; "even when we're a little crazy."

Your cheeks warm as they squish themselves around her grin.

"Love you. Now hold still," you say - taking it slow, kissing the damp pink curls right behind her ear. Then, for the most part, it's back to business. Back to normal.

Makeup wipes and wet washcloths. Clearing and setting the furniture upright. Hastily undoing the locks, so that to anyone who's passing by and smelling the raw, irrefutable evidence of sex and sin, they can turn away and think twice - no one's fault except the wicked thoughts swirling and forming in the back of their thoughts.

(No matter how many times you do, it's no different with Xiaoting; her smile turns the wheels in your head - still spinning. You can't help it when she laughs with her eyes still half-mast - fucked-out; a headiness, her tone like velvet.)

And the 'yes, we do,' on her breath when she hums again, is the beginning of an I-told-you-so, when you tell her, "c’mon, we've got places to be."

[thirstnotes]

| Rivals To Lovers - Clark Kent - Part Eleven - Intermission|

Pairings: Clark Kent x AFABBlackCurvyReader

Warnings: abduction, Red Hood, mild confusion, language, minors DNI

Sorry this took so long, sweeties. It's been a long few months. I'm exhausted, but I promise I haven't abandoned this!

If you don't like it, don't read it.

If waking up on silk sheets in a dark—albeit luxurious—unknown location is one of your worse fears

Trigger Warning

Because that's what was happening right now

Your head was heavy and groggy as you looked around at your settings. The pleasant scent of something familiar that you couldn’t place further lulled you from your stupor and you sat up slowly, the silky slink of fabric following you. As you slipped your legs over the edge of the bed, you realized it wasn’t silk sheets at all. You reached for a lamp in the corner and turned it on, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You were wearing an evening gown.

Black and sexy

Sleek and curve complementing

Had you not have been terrified out of your mind, you’d have adored it.

Your hair was up in a curly bun, a few loose curls tickling your skin. The small sparkle of a diamond necklace caught your attention, and you marveled at the simple elegance of the design. You were done up perfectly. Like a princess. Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to doll you up.

How long had you been out?

Your eyes scanned the vanity in front of you, it's surface lined with high end perfumes and makeups. Something like what you'd see on Pinterest or a tv show depicting the life of an heiress. The familiar smell you were catching was Chanel No. 5 lightly spritzed on you.

What the fuck?

The soft sound of piano music started and you looked to the door on the other side of the room. Approaching the door slowly, you reached to take the knob, ignoring the way it tremored. There was no time to freak out now. You were a journalist with nerves of steel. Keep it together.

You quietly pushed the door open a crack, looking into the fully lit room, seeing nothing out of place. In fact it was immaculate. It was unnerving.

You looked around the edge of the frame for any alarms or triggers, unsure of what might've awaited you. But nothing happened as you eased the door open. The room was gorgeous, easily rivaling one of Bruce's fancy penthouses. Plush carpet, crystal chandeliers, and a beautiful grand piano, behind which was the same masked man that you saw before you blacked out. Your blood ran cold.

He seemed to be aware of your presence the entire time, his mask turned in your direction as he played. You decided not to look like a deer in the headlights and walked towards the piano awkwardly, hearing the end of his song approaching.

"No wonder he's so distracted," he said, as he finished with a pluck of the last key. You waited for him to finish his thought, wondering who "he" was. "You're a knockout."

He stood and you took a step back. He paused, deciding to round the other side of the piano instead.

"Who are you, and where the fuck am I?" you demanded, a bit of edge to your voice to remind him that you weren't trying to exchange pleasantries. As laid back as he seemed, you were certain just walking away wasn't an option.

"Straight to the point, I see. Another selling point for sure," he said, the crimson of his mask unnerving you further. You shuddered to think what he had in store for you. Or even why he targeted you.

You were a journalist, sure, that had written plenty of articles on the criminals of your city, but you didn't remember any of them looking like him.

Perhaps he was from Gotham?

A sudden memory was triggered the moment you thought about Gotham and how it was often said that the philanthropist had a target painted on his back. Maybe that was why Clark was bothered by you hanging around him so much. Not because he himself was dangerous, but because of his social standing.

A fact that had become all too real in your current predicament.

"You mean Bruce," you said, not necessarily asking for conformation. You received a chuckle in return.

"Perceptive too. Even sexier."

So it was.

"Look. I don't know what business you have with him, but-"

"My business is his business. I don't have any qualms with Wayne. Quite the opposite," he said, sitting down, opening a magazine. You watched him, your brow furrowing.

He looked up at you, his eyes sweeping your form. "They call me Red Hood, and I'm here to help Bruce make up his mind."

"Make up his mind? About me, you mean? There's nothing to make up. We're not together."

He sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Ah! Therein lies the issue. You see, Bruce has been driven to distraction lately over you and I wanna know why that is. Selina Kyle never had this deep of a hold on him and he's been chasing her for years."

Selina Kyle? Who was that?

"Why not just ask him?" you inquired, keeping an eye on him, every now and again glancing around for any sign of an out. He tracked your movements carefully, his mask following you with every movement.

"Oh I have been, and I plan to ask one final time tonight."

"So I'm bait," you asked, walking towards the fireplace, observing the portraits on it. Thomas and Martha Wayne. The family butler. Bruce. But on picture caught your eye that made you nearly drop the photo you'd picked up. It was a candid polaroid of Bruce...taking off his mask.

Bruce Wayne was the Dark Knight himself.

Of fuckin course he was.

"No, you're the reason," he said, standing again and folding his arms, watching your realization. You set it back down, looking at him.

"So...Bruce is...a personal friend of yours I take it," you said, subtly hiding your surprise.

Calling him Batman felt entirely too cliché

Especially while you were being held hostage by one of his so-called sidekicks

Now it was making total sense why Clark didn't want you around him

Not only was he a colleague, he really was dangerous

"Very personal. Like an older brother, if you will, and unfortunately, now that you're his main squeeze, you're in it up to here," he said, passing you with his hand above his head to indicate the deep level of shit you were in. He stopped at the fireplace, pulling a phone from his pocket.

"That Sherlock shit's really impressive, you know that?"

"What do you think you're doing, Jason?" Bruce asked with an exasperated breath.

"Putting all the pieces in place," Jason said, looking over his shoulder at you. He was armored, so a vase to the head seemed like a way to piss him off. So you just listened to his conversation with whom you could only assume was Bruce.

"It makes things a bit more complicated than you know. Especially if he finds out you've done this."

"I'm counting on it. He's our other guest of honor, after all," he smirked, hanging up. He seemed very satisfied with himself, plopping back down on the sofa. You gave him a steely calm leer.

"He's gonna kill you when he finds out."

"Nah, I don't think Golden Boy's got it in 'im," he said matter of factly. You didn't doubt he would, but there was something in his tone that made you uneasy. He knew something.

(Part 10)

(Part 12)

[mayordeas-clone]

detailed thoughts on the new designs for the crypton superpack :]

(i drafted this post when they were initially announced and before their release so i know this isn’t exactly relevant but it was so close to finished anyway that i might as well publish it while cleaning my drafts)

miku

finally, FINALLY ixima got miku’s hair weight right. my main gripe with the nt design, for as much as i loved it, was that her hair was a little too top heavy. the hair getting wider at the bottom is reminiscent of the v2 and v3 designs and looks much better (i will note that i didn’t even mind miku’s hair getting thinner that much, i think it suits her but aesthetically i will always prefer bigger hair)

a little more minimalistic compared to NT. i guess they wanted to keep things more classic here. kind of a shame since i loved all the scalloped edges of NT 😭😭 miku’s top is on the plain side again but im glad it’s still white

the new tie shape is interesting. i know it’s subtle but i wanna say something anyway. im glad they’re back to the tie instead of the ribbon like in nt, but idk the shape sorta overlaps with len’s who i think suits it more. i think i prefer the traditionally diamond shape it has

a liiiitle mixed on the hair tie things. very reminiscent of v4 but less tall. they’re definitely easier to draw i’ll give it that but it does feel like something is missing with them

overall miku is pretty much unchanged, she’s sort of back to basics after the bigger departure of her NT design but the hair really does sell it for me

rin

my girl! :D they’re still doing the thing where rin wears a lighter grey while len wears black which i just don’t get 😭😭😭i feel like the value gap is even wider here. it’s nice they let her have a little black in her belt but now im just thinking, why couldn’t the rest of her dark clothes be black?

I LOVE HER SHORTS… that style with the two buttons is right up my alley. my personal designs may or may not see some edits in the future

they’re back to the belts on their hips which i like to see. the two toned effect is nice

the ribbon thing on her chest sort of returns from her v4 but different. i did not like it there but i think it’s improved a little bit here. its more loose and not as voluminous i guess, so its shaped more like her hair bow, which is nice. not sure if i prefer it over how it originally looked but its growing on me

i’ll miss her garters from v4 TwT not much else to comment on the foot/leg wear besides that

overall she’s cute as always but i will never get over the grey, please let my girl wear black im begging!!!!

len

definitely the most familiar-feeling of the group. i might have the least to say about him

i forgot to mention this in the others’ but the two black clips are a thing that’s included in everyone’s design in some way (except rin? maybe it’s her hair clips but they didn’t want to make them black). len’s are on his tie and while it’s a small detail i’m just like…. you are cramping miku’s style man. especially since their ties are shaped the same! anyway i know that’s a small nitpick but it’s something i noticed. that’s probably the most notable change in len’s design

it’s len

luka

yes….. YESS this feels like the proper upgrade and evolution of her v2 design i have been WAITING for, combined with some of the elegance and class of her v4x

her hair doesn’t seem as thin as it did in v4x??? (this is the actual hair loss that mattered not miku’s). maybe i’m coping though

her chest plate (ripped straight from v4x) is kind of strange but i’m glad the rest of her bodice isn’t that weird nude color 😭😭

her emblem is finally in a normal place again yay (really did not like where it was in v4x)

rejoice!!!! her ugly ass gold boots are gone!! her shoe game now is sort of overlapping with miku but i do like the situation here, it’s very sleek

i love those sleeves and the little chest window. so glad to see that damn mesh gone

her single sleeve from v2 is gone which sort of removes an element of asymmetry that was a main ingredient of her whole design but i do like this approach more. it was a bit of a clunky element that got in the way of the elegant character luka’s voice is meant to embody. they probably could have implemented some sort of asymmetry on her arms or neck in a more subtle way but i like the look of her exposed arms a lot

this is easily luka’s best iteration yet (i know there’s not a whole lot of competition but still). it sort of meets her v2 and v4x incarnations in the middle with the familiar feeling with new tweaks to make it feel cleaner and more classy. i love her a lot

meiko

oooh i love all the additional black elements in her outfit, adds some value to her fit compared to the white elements. i believe the black was an invention of her design in project sekai?

oh my god… her popped collar, it’s everything to me. has a lot of attitude that i’d expect from meiko

love the new wrist cuffs, not much notes there i just think they’re cool

the black goes a long way in enhancing what was great about her v3 incarnation and she definitely feels COOLER now. i love her

kaito

oh kaito… he’s seen a few small changes and i really love them!

his coat is fully opened now which i think really adds a lot. it sorta makes him feel less stuffy and he can breathe a little. makes him feel more casual which i do like

THE GLOVES!!!! they’re a small detail but i am glad they’re here!! super cool

boots are slightly different and they got shorter. they look…. a little goofy ngl, i do miss the higher boots of V3

coat design is virtually unchanged from v3 without the small unnecessary details and colors. i know they were tiny in the grand scheme of things, but their removal does clean his design up substantially. overall an improvement and one of my faves in the lineup

[drakor127]

*Kicks down a door* SO LEMME TELL YOU ABOUT THIS NEW VILLAIN GROUP I'M MAKING!

This is the Veraxiouz Colony, aka my solution to making my own version of the Overtakers from Quite A Glittering Assemblage (which is a GREAT FANFIC SERIES YOU SHOULD CHECK OUT), once I actually get around to writing my fanfics.

Here they are:

Slyckalak/Frowny Fox

From: Poppy Playtime Logic (Very Loosely Adapted)

The certified ringleader of this circus, an ancient and powerful Chimera Bug (more specifically, Chimera Beetle, and yes, there are more Chimera Bugs then just Chimera Ants in my fanfic series) that used to rule a dimension based on PURE 80'S AESTHETIC called the Rad Zone and seeks to destroy B.E.R. to rule the land once again. He'll take every avenue to rule if possible, even destroying the omniverse, with his loyal generals Neferpitou, Shaiapouf, Menthuthuyoupi, Cheetu and Zazan staying by his side.

Midnight Sparkle

From: My Little Pony: Friendship Games

Prison Number: 63910-MLP

For a time, this version of Twilight Sparkle was thought by many to be a weak link by her now-former classmates at Crystal Prep, but once she got her hands on some Equestrian magic (and thanks to the peer pressure), she snapped and started wreaking havoc before being locked away in Breaking Point Maximum Security Prison. And once free, she won't rest until she gains all there is to know about magic.

Wade Wilson/Dreadpool

From: Marvel comics

Prison Number: 19972605-MRVL

A Wade Wilson from an alternate timeline where the mad genius Psycho-Man broke his mind even more than usual, Dreadpool is locked away in Breaking Point Maximum Security Prison for the safety of the omniverse after he slaughtered everyone in his dimension, at least, until Slyckalak inevitably breaks him out. With his skills and regeneration, this guy will be hard to kill.

Alice

From: Murder Drones

Prison Number: 081823-MD

A cruel and rather....country voiced Worker Drone, after Nori Doorman broke out after being possessed, Alice lived in Cabin Fever Labs for a time until she was inevitably arrested for cannibalism and mass murder. But once she breaks out of Breaking Point Maximum Security Prison, everything's good as boned once she gets her mits on some Sentinels.

Hunter J

From: Pokemon Diamond And Pearl

Prison Number: 060907-PKMN

A ruthless Pokemon poacher, she's been kidnapping and selling Pokemon on the black market for a while until her and her henchmen were fished out of Lake Valor and taken to Breaking Point Maximum Security Prison, but once Slyckalak liberates her and her henchmen, the Pokemon of the omniverse better watch out.

Diavolo

From: JoJo's Bizarre Adventures

Prison Number: 010906-JJBA

The former don of Passione, a ruthless mafioso that wouldn't let anyone know his identity, and as such, would kill anyone who searched for it. After being sealed in Breaking Point Maximum Security Prison, he's itching to retake his throne. He has the power to skip time forward ten seconds, thereby skipping the cause and leaving the effect.

Wicked Witch of the West

From: Wizard of Oz (1930s)

Prison Number: 092539-WOZ

After being melted by a certain X-Squad, the Wicked Witch’s spirit survived and was swiftly arrested and dragged into Breaking Point Maximum Security Prison, but once she reclaims her sister's slippers and escapes, the omniverse is definitely in for a bad time.

Imperious

From: Power Rangers Mystic Force

Prison Number: 060506-PR

A flamboyant and power-hungry mummy wizard, Imperious was sealed away in Breaking Point Maximum Security Prison for his crimes against humanity and magic-born, until Slyckalak inevitably breaks him out for his plans, but his lack of loyalty is infamous, and he might get too big for his boots.

Dennis

From: Phineas and Ferb

Prison Number: 090109-PAF

Dennis was a star OWCA agent until he decided that fighting mad scientists was too easy, and so decided to take his skills against OWCA and became a deadly freelance mercenary, at least until he was transferred to Breaking Point Maximum Security Prison, and let's just hope he can't weasel his way out this time.

J.S. Steinman

From: Bioshock

Prison Number; 092107-BIOS

An accomplished surgeon, Steinman rose to a degree of prominence throughout Rapture, and came to the place to practice his morbid, twisted view on physical beauty on unwilling patients, but ADAM abuse caused him to lose his grip on reality, resulting in him becoming a demented and twisted doctor, who was inevitably arrested and taken to Breaking Point Maximum Security Prison. Let's just hope he doesn't run wild, or we'll all be patients for his twisted art projects.

Airachnid and Darkwing

From: Transformers One

Prison Number: 9472938-TFO

Formerly Sentinel Prime's primary enforcers. The two were soon sentenced to life in Breaking Point Maximum Security Prison for their crimes. However, should they escape, let's just hope that they're swiftly defeated and dragged back here before they cause too much damage.

[saskiahaggens]

฿ØⱤĐɆⱤⱠ₳₦Đ 🂡 ~ 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 10

Masterlist

▣ Previous Part / ▣ Next Part

Paring: (?) × Reader

Warnings:

Word count: 2600

It didn't take a genius to realize that number one knew very little more than you. Why and how, on the other hand, should he? He introduced himself as Danma, but everyone called him Hatter because he used to sell hats before coming to Borderland.His name made you think of 'Alice in Wonderland,' and his weird personality complemented the name wonderfully. That's why you liked to refer to him as Hatter as well. After he explained the rules and gave you a brief tour of the beach, they handed you some locker keys. Your key number was 76, making you the last of your friends. Arisu started with the number 71. You had to change into swimming suits afterwards, so you couldn't hide any weapons.

It was weird how many different types of swimwear were already in your room's wardrobe. But, given that the rooms change like clockwork, it would be required unless they want people running about naked.

You opted to stay in your room for the time being after changing and hiding the sensor glasses in your closet (it was the only spot where they wouldn't be noticed immediately due to the many clothes). You'd need some time before you'd be ready to go outside. It was the first time you'd seen so many people since arriving in Borderland, and you'd met them in your swimsuit. You chose a plain black one with some loose swim trunks over it for your personal comfort. Someone knocked on your door after around ten minutes. Shibuki was wearing a bright bikini, and Usagi was hiding shyly behind her. When you were all set to walk outside, you decided to look for the rest of your companions, who had seemingly already left their rooms.

Finding them was easier said than done; a stranger would sometimes offer you fruits or alcohol, but you turned them all down. In your opinion, starting to drink now would not be the best choice. You were new and had little faith in the people around you. You may drink when you get back to your room... or, preferably, never.

You noticed Arisu drinking a martini by the pool. Karube was swinging his legs in the water while talking to some girls, and Chota appeared dissatisfied with the scenario, attempting to avoid the people. You were pleased that the guys kept their shirts on, since otherwise you would have been a blushing mess. Shibuki eventually calmed Chota down, so you went to search for three sun-launchers, because Arisu and Chota had departed to get new drinks. The entire scenario seemed off. How could somebody ignore reality in such a way? Yes, you and your buddies had some fun before coming here too, but this was on a completely different level.

Hatter showed you a large wall covered in gaming cards. Only the four of diamonds, the ten and seven of hearts, and all face cards were missing. Hatter stated that if all cards were collected, just one person could depart, but this does not seem logical. Because there are still missing cards, he can't be certain. Given the large number of people just on the beach, you'd have to remain for years for everyone to go. You inquired about the games they played for the two of hearts, but he didn't respond. If you had to play the same games over and over again, there wouldn't be any difficulty.

Whatever it was, Hatter was overjoyed with the seven of hearts and promised the winners a promotion.You lied when you stated that it had to be Usagi's. The reason was simple. For starters, Hatter's claim that just one person may depart seemed ridiculous and was very likely a lie. You, on the other hand, had the sensor glasses. A higher number would very certainly mean you'd be watched more frequently, which is exactly what you don't need right now. If you had to estimate, they'd get the promotion tomorrow or so because they've been staying close to your room for now.

"I'm going back to my room really quick," you excused yourself from your friends.

You passed a woman with dreadlocks on your way. She watched you walking around, and it piqued your interest, so you approached her. Not the brightest idea, but this place was never a good idea to begin with, so why stop now?

"Like what you see?" You asked, far more confident than you felt.

"Hmm, yeah. Yeah, I do," She laughed. "My name is Kuina, and you must be new here."

"Actually, my name is Y/n, but you can call me beautiful if you want," you said with a smile, and the two of you burst out laughing. "To be honest, however. You don't look like everyone else."

"Do you mean I'm more attractive?"

"That's not all. You don't appear so stupid while you're enjoying this."

"So you already figured it out?"

"The fact that we're all pawns for Hatter in order to earn the cards?"

She chuckled, but her gaze was drawn away from you.

"I have to go for now. I'll see you later. Hatter will give a speech in a few minutes. Everyone is expected to go, so don't get in trouble and attend," She waved goodbye and walked away.

You followed her gaze, noticing someone you wished wasn't there. Chishiya was standing near you, resting against a wall. He must be the one who aroused Kuina's interest. He waved when he saw you, but you just walked away. You had to get a jacket from your room because it was getting chilly outside, and you needed to hear Hatters' speech as soon as possible. You could feel him staring at you while walking, and he would definitely question Kuina about you.

Before you could return to your sun lounger, you had to sit through Hatter's lousy speech. The guys decided to chill a bit at the pool after. You couldn't blame them, after all, the water was now empty and they could cool their wounds from the previous games. You, Usagi, and Shibuki were reading near them, wondering how the guys don't freeze to death, but you noted how the attractive girl from before sat with the guys.

You tried to catch the conversation between them, but all you could hear was that the beach was divided into two sections: the cult with Hatter, Kuzuryu, and An, and the militants. Most of the names were unfamiliar to you, but it was reassuring that Chishiya was not mentioned. By the way, he was observing you from a distance again.

Suddenly, a random individual said that the cars were back. You weren't sure what he meant at first, but you recalled Hatter mentioning something about sending groups of four to the games. Surprisingly, just three people were approaching you right now. One of them had her long black hair tied in some kind of bun. The second had a bleeding eye wound, while the third had tattoos all over his body. You didn't know who they were, but simply by looking at them, you could tell they were militants.

What drew your attention was when one of them suddenly spoke to Usagi.

"What do you want?" she questioned, perhaps a little harshly.

"Can't you tell? Our boss wants a sample," the black-haired guy answered instead, his eyes locked on you. "His blood is still racing from the game. Don't think about it too much, and you will even enjoy it."

Arisu and Karube popped up in front of you, much to your astonishment. Chota tried as well, but he remained hidden behind both of them. You approached them, concerned about their actions, and attempted to settle the situation, but it didn't work. Everything got a little out of hand, but Hatter and Kuzuryu intervened before anybody got hurt. The black-haired guy was trying to figure out why Hatter was helping you, which would have made you laugh because of his stupid face... if the situation hadn't been so serious. The militants may want you dead now, so even if they retreat this time, you should still be cautious.

"Jeez, weird dude," you said as you sat back down. "You should avoid picking fights with everyone. We must keep all of our options open. Hatter won't be here forever," you said.

"They protected us. You should thank them," Shibuki sneered.

"Right. Thank you, but please leave it to me next time. They have the authority to demote you. You have something to lose, so let me handle stuff like this next time."

"Oh? Such strong words from someone like you? What are you going to do? Kick them in the shins?" Karube chuckled.

"Nah, I'd rather do something like that," you responded, grabbing his arm.

You flung him into the water in one rapid move. It was more luck than talent, but it worked. Surprisingly, Karube simply chuckled at the behavior and didn't become angry, so the mood brightened slightly. Kuina was definitely with Chishiya at this point, but you didn't care. While you liked her, he was bad news for a variety of reasons.

You wanted to forget all that had happened. You even managed to have some fun before retiring to your own quarters. You sometimes caught sight of the white-haired man out of the corner of your eye. What is he up to?

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't sleep. The loud music that was still playing made it extremely difficult to do so. Arisu must have felt the same way, for he knocked on your door after what seemed like an eternity - it was approximately thirty minutes. Both of you couldn't sleep and decided to go outside. So you grabbed a jacket and went down to get some fresh air.

When you found a place a bit further away from the party you sat down and watched the stars. "Meow.", you heard skipped a beat by the sudden noise.

Why was a cat even here? Does it have to play games too? Probably not. When it nuzzled its head on your arm, you instantly forgot about the question.

"You must be starving. I will find something for you," Arisu decided, but asked you if you were okay with it.

You were, of course. Staying with a cat sounded much better than hearing the party noises. It also made you forget about earlier. You caressed the cat, and it jumped into your lap. You proceeded to stroke behind its ears since it had started to purr.

"Interesting. She usually despises people."

You did not need to turn around to see who it was. His cat-like features indicated that he was a cat person.But why was he here?

"I don't think so," you said. "Otherwise, she wouldn't be loitering near the beach. You're probably trying to make me feel special. The only question is: Why?"

"I'm glad you and Muscle Guy made it. Remember, the two of you own me something," He disregarded your question.

"We didn't ask you to help us. Also, leave my friend out of this. You saved just my life, not his. He doesn't own you anything," He didn't need to know that he also saved Karube's life. He, at least, had a chance to survive even if you would have been shoot, therefore it doesn't count.

"Then you have to do what I want you to. Your friends would play along anyway. They have already proven that."

He was probably waiting for you to say anything, but you didn't. After all, it wasn't necessary. If you were in danger, they would come to your aid.

"Hey! Y/n!" Arisu yelled from afar, but he came to a halt when he spotted your unwanted company.

Due to the loud noise, the cat ran, leaving you and the two guys behind.

"Well, Y/n. We'll talk later," Chishiya waved and walked away.

"Who was that?" Arisu questioned, now walking closer to you.

"Chishiya or whatever. I ran into him while playing tag. Don't worry about him." You responded. Not thrilled that Chishiya now knows your name. But you tried to remind yourself; he would have found out eventually if Kuina hadn't told him by now.

"Alright...," he murmured, but didn't pursue the subject more. "They said that the cat is fed twice a day and that she already gotten it today. Sorry if I interrupted something."

"Jeez, you can be cute some times. You didn't disturb anything. Do you want to come back to my room? The party is no longer as noisy. Also, who knows who will show up next? I don't want to run into the militants."

Arisu nodded and followed you, flustered by your comment. The party was significantly quieter than before. Probably because the majority of people had passed out by this point, and those who remained talked about whatever they wanted in smaller groups or made out in whatever location they could find.

"Would you like some gum? A guy gave it to me earlier," you question as you shut the door to your room.

Arisu nodded again and you handed him the gum, before taking one yourself. It was something small, but you couldn't tell anymore when you had the last one. It must have been a long time. You observed Arisu munching the gum fiercely. You were concerned because he was uneasy around you.

"Arisu, don't be so shy. It's great to have you here," You smiled while watching the few people still having fun outside. "Hey do you by any chance know how to make a gum bubble? I've never been able to do one."

"It's pretty easy. Simply flatten it on the roof of your mouth and press it against your teeth. You can make a little dent with your tongue to make it easier, and then you just have to breathe out as if you want to whistle. Do you know how to whistle?"

"Jap. So you can do one?"

"Nope. Karube told me how, but I was never able to make one," He whispered and scratched his neck, embarrassed.

"All right, Arisu. Today is the day we will both learn to make one," you joked, jumping next to him on your bed. "I mean, you said it is easy."

Arisu successfully formed a little bubble after some time and numerous weird noises while failing.

"See! Try harder and you'll get a cool one," you said. Arisu chuckled at your immaturity, but tried again. Making a bigger one this time.

"Yes! It will now just take me a couple more hours to learn."

"It's not like we have anything else to do. Unless, of course, you have other plans."

"Nope. It's a pleasure to spend time with you. Do you want to have a sleepover? I mean, I have a room with two separate beds, and making a bubble will also take me some more time," you offered.

Arisu had no alternative but to agree. It really did take you half an hour to generate a decent bubble. Your gum had lost its flavor at that point, but it was still fun. Arisus' presence had you sleeping an hour later. It made you feel safer than being alone in a room with no actual lock and many people outside who weren't really pleased with your presence. You still woke up early enough so that your friends wouldn't get the wrong idea if they saw Arisu leaving your room. Particularly the girls and Karube. You didn't want to hear them either shipping you two or making them jealous.

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[tanat-a]

Hi, I've been a lurker here for a long time, and I have begun to write my first novel. It started as a personal thing, but then a friend of mine recommended me to post it here to see if people like it, so here it goes.

(This story is my attempt to merge a western magic system and an Eastern magic system so if you have any thoughts about my writing please tell me.)

Chapter 1 Rainbow Crystal Cave

Huang Lei awoke with a groan in the darkness of Rainbow Crystal Cave. He tried to get up, but a searing pain permeated the entirety of his body. Looking at himself, he could see that his cloak was tattered and frayed, while his tunic and pants had holes in them. Compared to the rest of his apparel, his hair was unblemished.

"That's the last time i don't secure my rope tightly" He said to himself.

Huang came here in search of some crystals to sell ,crystals from Rainbow Crystal Cave are higly priced making it a profitable venture to go and collect them even when one considers the danger, he had climed Steep Star mountain to get to the mouth of the cave, and even avoided a few shadow stalker wolves on his way here. The first step he took he saw that the cave had many levels and tunnles but he didn't see any crystals, so he secured his rope to a rock and descended. But the rope he was using got loose from where he secured it. Sending him tumbling down the cave.

Ignoring the pain he forces himself up and goes to a nearby puddle to look at himself. There he sees a man with black coarse hair tied into a topknot with a silver hairpin sideways into the top knot. His face was angular like that of a finely cut diamond, his complexion was deep like that of a dark amber, his eyebrows were thick and arched, his nose was straight and sharp and his mouth was thin and straight. His deep-set eyes were as blue as the ocean and as clear as gemstone. Most people who met him discribe him as a saphire due to his eyes and complexion, Some would say he was wasting his looks by beaing a wayfarer instead of working as an entertainer for the nobles of The Crimson Star Empire.

But Huang never liked living a life of monotony. Haung grew up in an orphanage in Verdant Meadow City, ever since a young age he liked exploring and experiencing new things even if it left him dirt-poor most of the time. Having left the orphanage he has spent five years travelling through the Bountiful Hills reagion of the empire. He had heard of a merchant willing to pay one jade carp for a Rainbow mana crystal from the Rainbow Crystal Cave, most people weren't interested in a sure death even for that much money. But Huang thought it would be interesting to go see Rainbow Crytal cave too, so he thought it would kill two birds with one stone.

Huang looked to where he had fallen from and saighed "If you fly too close to the sun you will get burned. It seems that I overestimated myself this time... again." He fell a quarter of a li ,which is about 125 meters, it was a miracle he even survived.

'It seems the heavens favor the foolish today' he tought to himself. looking around to see if he could find anything to help him get up and out of the cave. He found his backpack which had five packaged meals, a torch, and a knife.

Lightning his torch he ventured deeper into the cave. While walking along a cave tunnel he saw something reflect the light of his torch back at him.

Rushing towards the object Huang suddenly heard hissing coming from in front of him. Waving his torch forward he found that the object was a scepter, but the scepter was entangled in a large spider nest. The spider nest was so large it was as tall as Huang and had so many webs woven together that it was impossible to see what was underneath. Only the top of the scepter was poking out. On top of the nest was a Yin Venom Spider. The Yin Venom Spider was as black as tar with ivory white eyes and fangs.

The spider hissed at Huang and lifted it's front legs trying to intimidate him. Huang was frozen he had never face a beast like a Yin Venom Spider before.

Thinking to himself Haung though of his options. 'What now Haung? A Yin Venom Spider is staring you down maybe you should backup and go back and try to climb the cave... But that scepter would Fetch a nice price, and there might be something in the nest to help me get out.' So he decided to attack.

Unwrapping a packaged meal and putting on the ground in front of the spider, he then stepped back. The spider climed down and started to eat the meal. Huang turned his back to the spider and ran but it lunged at him nearly biting his leg. Haung pressed his torch into the spider's face with a sizzling noise and a piercing shriek the spider pulled back and tried to bite Huang. He block it in time with his torch, but the spider pushed Huang down on the floor with its superior strength.

The spider used it razor sharp legs to rain a flurry of piercing blows against Huang Lei. Clothes were pierced and bones were broken as the spider landed blow after blow on Huang. He took his knife and stabbed it into the spider's neck, making it jump away.

Getting up Huang took note of his injuries. He had a broken rib, a broken left arm and a broken left leg, and had holes in his flesh the size of a coin on his upper torso.

The spider jumped and opened it fangs preparing to bite Huang. He tried to block it but his injuries prevented him from moving his torch quickly. The spider bit his arm and he felt yin Venom flowing into him. He tried to scream but no noise came out. It was like his body was becoming ice. He saw the knife was still in the spider's neck, he grabbed the knife, and kicked the spider in its abdomen to move it to his right side and dragged the knife across the spider's neck.

The spider was still moving. He stabbed it again, and again, and again. Stepping back he collapsed. The sound of his breathing and the crackling of his torch was the only sound in the cave.

Huang tried to get up but his muscles wouldn't move the yang Venom having turned it into something akin to ice rather than flesh and it kept felt like it was shifting and changing under his skin. Reaching for his torch to warm him up he only moved his fingers before he passed out.

Waking up Huang felt that something was off and very, very wrong. His bones were not broken anymore, but his flesh didn't have holes in it like it should have. His chest felt tight, and his hair felt longer and smoother than before.

Huang was panicking. 'This is not normal, not normal at all. Did someone come and patch me up or something?'

Getting up he went to a small puddle and looked to see if he was really healed. In the puddle he looked he shifted his face and paused each time, pausing longer and longer each time he shifted his face. A second passed, then ten, then a minute. He than spat blood.

"EEHHHHHHHH!!!" A loud shout sounded throughout the cave, bats woke up and flew in massive swarms, insects skittered aimlessly hoping to avoid a being capable of creating such a sound, birds on the surface woke up and fled from their nest, and a merchant near the area heard a noise coming from the Rainbow Crystal Cave he ignored it and continued on his path. Though he did note that it sounded feminine.

Huang was fully panicked now pacing back and forth and occasionally checking his reflection in the puddle. Blood kept pouring out of his mouth due to the nature of what happened to him.

"NO, THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING. THIS HAS TO BE A DREAM." Huang shouted in a feminine voice throughout the cave. A single thwack was heard, then more thwacks were heard. " I HAVE TO WAKE UP. I HAVE TO WAKE UP." Huang was slapping himself.

What haung saw in the puddle wasn't the man that was him what he saw was a woman, with a heart-like face, a small thin nose, thin arched eyebrows, thin delicate lips, and a complexion that was as pale as porcelain. The woman's black hair was straight and silky, a part of her hair was put up in a bun with bangs sweeping to her left, while the rest of her hair flowed to the middle of her back. There was a silver hairpin sticking sideways in the bun. Her eyes were as blue as that of saphires and were as clear as if they were made of glass. Her body was like that of a hourglass, her limbs were thin and delicate looking, their lenght perfectly complementing her frame, with no blemishes in sight. Those who saw her would say she was a jade beauty who came from the heavens to grace the mortal plane.

This was now Huang Lei's body.

(This story will now start to use female pronouns to refer to Huang)

"Why me?" Huang said with a dejected tone. Sulking next to the spider nest she saw that her torch was still lit. 'Maybe there's something in there that can help me.' Huang though as she looked to the spider nest, after all there must be something there that could help she tried to reassure her self of this delusion.

Burning the nest what was left after the fire finished burning was a skeleton, held in its hand was what looked like a diary. The scepter that Huang had seen clattered to the ground, she picked it up.

Shen then swung it around madly while shouting for it to turn her back into a man. She spent ten minutes trying... it didn't work. Exhausted she went to the diary and began to read it.

The diary was a diary of a mage who was studying cultivation and cultivators. While reading she saw a section on Yin, it might help with what happened to him considering she was bit with yin venom she though, it read that

"In the dark of night

Where formless is ice

Where Moonlight is bright

Where winter's in sight

Silent and passive

The night sends missives

That calm is elusive

Yet it is submissive

The girl watches from below

The woman readies a bellow

To greet the moon's glow

Which they all follow"

Huang sat there unmoving considering the poem for moments on end, until she took a breath and closed the diary.

"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?!" Huang having not understood what the poem meant. Skipping ahead hoping that she would find an explanation on the poem, afterall a wizard had to do research right?

"Yin and yang are opposites, no not this one... there is always balance between... enough with the flowery prose already... Ah, here it is, the cultivators believe that the Yin represents the feminine aspect of a person... the more Yin they have the more feminine they are... This males it so that a man with and excess of Yin qi will turn into a woman, and vice-versa for the effects of Yang qi" Huang sat there still contemplating the new information.

She sat there for an hour. 'That means I can be a man again as long as I get more of this yang stuff in me right?' Yet her hopes were dashed as she continued to read. "One can only switch between Yin and yang once in their life, anymore and they will die. Due to this fact many sects have used the switching of Yin and yang as an execution method. I heard that the Vituous Flower Sect..."

Huang sat there motionless. "This... this can't be real... it can't... it can't..." she muttered weakly hoping the words she was speaking was true. But the reality was Huang was stuck like this for the rest of her life.

Huang just sat there all day, sulking, dead to the world around her. Until her hunger made her get up and unpacked a meal. 'Three more meals... I have to get out of this cave fast... but do I want to. My life is changed beyond any recognition, i didn't choose this fate the heavens chose it for me. Should I just stay here?' Huang though to herself succumbing to depression at having her entire world turned upside down, at being in a cave underground one li away from the surface, having her fate dictated by something else, alone, and without knowing if she will ever get out.

Suddenly she stood up and grabbed the diary stowing it away in her pack picking up the knife and the scepter. With fire in her eyes she looked up and made her decision.

"NO, I won't let this be the end. So what if my entire world view just did turned upon its head. I'm still alive and kicking, and if the heavens have decreed that my life isn't a thing that I can decide for myself, then I shall face the heavens." She declared to the heavens themselves and as if responding to her will a ball of light gather on the head of the staff.

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[sassyfrassboss]

you know what i can't wait for? the inventible part of the divorce proceedings where it comes out that meghan never paid for her wedding dress and that its not her property, its property of the crown. i also think that the jewelry she wears of princess dianas, she will not be allowed to keep or rather not be allowed to sell. She be allowed to keep using it so long as it gets passed on to lili.

Call me crazy but i think over time we'll get confirmations of how little jewelry shes received also. everything she wears outside of a few pieces are all name brand pieces because i think she hates Harrys taste in jewelry

I think we already know just how little of Diana's she received.

She has the "butterfly earrings" which many suspect to be a copy and not the real deal, the gold bracelet, the Cartier watch, and the loose diamonds used in her ring.

I am sure everything BUT her engagement ring will have to be returned in the event of a divorce although I can see her pitching a fit over the watch because she wears that thing everywhere.

Eventually it will come out about her spending, merching, and all the shady deals she had going on with the Mulroney's, Markus, and many others.

[funkyglassmonkey]

song of the day : aug 28

Pyramids by Frank Ocean - channel ORANGE

this song is meant torepresents the affects of slavery, sexism, and the tremendous change in treatment of said minority groups throughout the history of time

from minutes 0:00 - 3:53, Frank is setting us in 50BC, around 2000 years ago, during Cleopatras reign over Ancient Egypt, as assumed through the repetition of “Our Queen” and “Cleopatra”. This is a story of The singers unrequited love affair with Queen Cleopatra .The singer is supposedly one of Cleopatra many lovers, however the singer is blind sighted and denied her unfaithfulness. He assumed her absence equates to her kidnapping, going as far as “setting the cheetahs on the loose” which can also be a double meaning for a “cheater”. The second verse of the first half is meant to describe how royal Egyptians lived and their treatment, they, Cleopatra in specific, is a diamond in a rocky world, her skins is a beautiful shade of bronze, and her hair is a rich cashmere shade. This is also a recollection on the singers part of meeting his queen, and how it felt for him. their bodies “march to the rhythm” and noise fills up the grand pyramids. Now, in our third verse, the singer has realized that his love was not taken from him, but chose to leave. Where was was once the “Jewel of Africa” she is has “lost her value” and is no longer “precious”. The singer catches Cleopatra sleeping with a man, ‘Samson’. The singer seems to hold Samson in a higher light, claiming jealousy of his “full head of hair”. However, everything takes a turn after a ‘serpent’ has killed Cleopatra. Frank choose very wisely to say “He” after the servant struck the Queen of Egypt. He does this to show that Cleopatras desperation for more attention got her killed. The man who she cheated on the singer with killed her, putting an abrupt end on the Queen life and legacy.

As we enter a beautiful musical interlude, the notes presented create a perfect music pyramid, going up by half steps and back down the scale repeatedly.

This transitions us to the second half of our song, 3:54- end. We are now in current times. Although it’s unclear where geographically the time is set, I’d like to think he sets these verses in Las Vegas, Nevada, he and cleopatra “hit the strip”, the term used when describing Las Vegas Blvd. Now our story starts in a dingy motel room instead of a glorious pyramids of Egypt. The singer, having to have once been powerful enough to work his way into the pyramids, is now a street pimp prostituting girls. And Cleopatra, our famed and beloved Queen of Egypt, is a prostitute selling her body for the attention she once never needed to captivate. Cleopatra and the singer are in this motel room together, mostly likely after a one night stand or hook-up. Cleopatra leaves this one night stand to go “work at the pyramids”, but interestingly enough, the singer reveals that Cleopatra works for him, as implied in the line “got your girl working for me” and “hit the strip and my bills paid.” She is a prostitute, he is her pimp. Their relationship is similar to that of their previous lives. Cleopatra is a woman of polygamy, she is never set on one man, and the singer wants her loyalties. However, In this time line, the singer is not naive and knows of Cleopatras other endeavors, but he implies disparity over this since he knows she doesn’t truly love him; “But you’re love ain’t free, no.” The only time Cleopatra will ever “love” him is in a paid, intimate setting.

Overall, this 10 minute song shows the flow of time and how the centuries changes humans. Where Cleopatra was once a furious Queen who was highly respected and influential, she is now nothing more than a street prostitute, living in and out of motels which were once grand pyramids. The singer continues a life of unrequited love throughout his different lives, and how Cleopatra will never change.