Willow Hiji Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Saitama

Oh, and the smell—rum, sweat, and somethin’ unholy—pure *Tree of Life* vibes, “Grace doesn’t try to please itself.” Grace my arse, she’s pleasin’ herself to my wallet! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d wager she’s bedded half the fleet and still kicks like a mule. Personal quirk—I’m mutterin’ to meself, “Ricky, you daft twat, why’d ya bother?” Cos it’s a laugh, innit! Whores—they’re the real sailors, ridin’ waves of idiots like me. Sarcasm? Mate, she’s a walkin’ punchline— “Oh, bless ya, captain, you’re me first today!” Yeah, and I’m the bloody Pope!

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First off, I woke up late. Ugh! My alarm didn’t go off. I was supposed to be at the tea house on Hiji’s main street, Kōen-dōri, by 10 AM. I rolled outta bed at 9:30. Panic mode activated! I threw on my kimono, which, let me tell ya, is not easy when you’re half-asleep. I looked like a hot mess.

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