Rebecca Hanamaki Whore ❤️

About Fukuoka

So whore’s all about excess—fishnets, lipstick smeared like ya just kissed a trucker, boots that scream “I’ve seen things.” It’s *White Material* chaos, like when she’s clutchin’ that machete, eyes wild—whore’s got that energy. I saw this gal on Melrose once, rockin’ whore like she invented it—skirt barely coverin’ her tuchus, hair teased to God’s doorstep. I’m like, “Wow, you’re brave or insane!” Made me happy, though—takes guts to look that unhinged. But then I got mad—why’s this cost so much? $200 for a top that’s just threads? Gimme a break!

Masterlist

Hanamaki is comfortable in his immortality, in his lonesome and quiet apartment in downtown Tokyo, where no one bothers him. Accept Oikawa, but he's an exception. They're family.

After that, I was feelin’ good, so I headed to the riverbank. The Kitakami River was lookin’ gorgeous. I sat there, just takin’ it all in. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and I was like, “This is life.” But then, outta nowhere, this group of kids starts splashing water everywhere. I’m talkin’ full-on water fight! I got soaked! I was mad at first, but then I just laughed. I mean, how can you stay mad when you’re surrounded by such joy?

'Waiting for this day': 100-yr-old rejoices after A-bomb survivor group wins Nobel Prize