Bella Tamano Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Osaka

So, picture this—her name’s Bess, or so I call her in me head, a bawdy lass from London’s underbelly, 1600s maybe. She’s no prim rose, nah, but a wild weed, bloomin’ where she oughtn’t. Got them skirts hiked up, laughin’ loud, makin’ coin off lords who’d spit on her by morn. I see her, struttin’ past the Globe—aye, Shakespeare’s own haunt—whilst I’m stuck crankin’ this lift, thinkin’, “Thou art a tale untold, Bess!” She’s got eyes like stormy seas, drownin’ fools who stare too long. “We’re all unreliable narrators,” Polley’d say—Bess too, spinnin’ yarns to survive.

Master: None

#yashahime© Rumiko Takahashi.

After that, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up this little café on Shōwa-dōri. They have the best matcha lattes. I order one, and while I’m waiting, I start chatting with this old dude. Turns out, he’s been living in Tamano forever. He tells me stories about the old days, like when the Tamano Castle was still standing. I’m like, “Whoa, that’s cool!” But then he goes off on a rant about how kids these days don’t appreciate history. I’m just nodding, trying not to roll my eyes.

SC grants writs of amparo, habeas data to activists Tamano, Castro