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#garou fluff
bxd-decisions · 1 year
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◈ CUDDLES ⸻ ONE PUNCH MAN
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◈ SYNOPSIS︙ How they cuddle you :)
◈ PAIRING︙ Garou x reader, Metal Bat x reader
◈ GENRE︙ Fluff, headcanons
◈ WARNINGS︙ NONE!
◈ AUTHORS NOTE︙ Reposting old work :)
REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK APPRECIATED
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◈ GAROU ◈
This…tsundere of a man. He is the most difficult person to cuddle, EVER. 
Garou likes to act as if he is doing YOU a favor by holding you, when in reality, he is hiding the fact that he also craves some sort of physical contact… nonviolent… physical contact.
He is your personal heater, his body is so damn warm and so comfortable, it's addicting to say the least.
The best place to rest your head is on those tig ol' biddies of his, it's nice to listen to his heartbeat, sometimes it's beating a bit faster than usual because you're around.
Garou will act all annoyed and mutter out loads of curses, but eventually he will decide to swallow his pride and wrap his arms around you, well the… welcome to heaven. 
His embrace is so gentle, yet so protective, he will sometimes let his fingers run through your hair to let you fall asleep. 
Maybe… just maybe you will see the slightest smile on his face, as he enjoys the proximity between the two of you, just don't say anything about it.
10000000000000/10 because I'm biased towards Garou.
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◈ METAL BAT ◈
He's a teddy bear!! He absolutely loves to cuddle you. His embrace is always so nice and warm… and soft!
He loves to play with your hair, and he loves it if you nuzzle your face into his chest.
Another thing he loves is when you're the little spoon, his little spoon, he holds you so gently, like he is touching a porcelain doll. 
He loves to have his cat join in with the cuddles.
Badd loves to whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he gently plays with your hair, it's his way of showing you how much he loves you.
Expect lots of forehead kisses, and he definitely covers you with a blanket, he likes to take care of you.
10/10. HE IS A TEDDY BEAR!
TAGS: @tokyometronetwork @garous-nipple @frimpfuck
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localityghost · 1 year
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Can i fet garou (opm) x reader relationship headcannons?? ❤️❤️❤️
ᕼEᖇO ᕼᑌᑎTEᖇᔕ Gᖴ♡
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◇ —ᴄᴡ||Smut, fluff, biting, hair pulling
◇— ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ||You and Garou's relationship
◇—ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ'ꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ||Garou x ʏᴏᴜ♡
Garou when he first met you thought you were a pipsqueak a annoying little shit but then he started to get to know you better and after tasting your food that you cooked he made it his goal to make you his wife
The dates were normal as any person would think they would be sometimes garou would give you star fragments without you knowing it was one
Loves to buy you jewelry he believes if it comes from him it's more valuable
Loves to grab your ass because it's so soft
Literally encourages you to sit on his face so he can get all of you
Garou always makes sure that no guys have their eyes linger on you for to long
Garou loves to rest his hand on your thigh
Believe it or not Garou loves to be affectionate when your alone
His favorite place to kiss is your thighs and inner thighs ^^
Definitely pulls your hair during sex
Touches you in public to see your reaction of course you get flustered
Loves your chest doesn't matter if your flat chested
He's a big softie when it comes to PDA
Garou loves licking your nipples since he knows how sensitive you are
Garou dicks you down doggystyle
Garou loves pulling your hair during sex but he gives you Hella aftercare
You literally have bite marks on your inner thighs
Pinches your nipples when your overstimulated
Loves eating you out and preps you to take his cock
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garoumylove · 2 years
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Golden Hour Epilogue
The happily and 🔞smuttily🔞 ever after of Garou and you in my domestic fluff GarouxReader ♥️. You can also read it on AO3 here :)
“Are you awake?” She whispers, stirring against me in the afternoon sun, her back against my chest.
“No,” I whisper back, my face in her hair.
“Mhmm…” she sighs, warm and sleepy, happy as I bring my hand over from her hip to her breast, brushing my fingers against her nipple, feeling it harden so quick, squeezing it lightly as she can’t help but push her ass back against me.
I want to say this is the best morning I've ever had, as I feel myself hard against her teasing, but it must be around midday. Close enough.
"Garou…" she sighs as I keep playing with her nipple.
"Yeah?" I find myself asking, buried in her hair, in her scent.
"Tell me something about yourself. Something I don't know," she whispers.
That was not the direction I thought we were going in but I understand where this is coming from as I feel the warmth of her back against my chest. But I still can't help myself.
"I'm fuckin' horny," I whisper back, very seriously.
I feel her drowsy laughter against me.
"I know that," she says, leading me on playfully. "I can feel it," she adds, grinding softly back against me, nothing but mischief until I can't fucking control it anymore, neither my hands, or my cock or this rasping building in my throat. I grab her hips and hold her good against me, getting inside her again, feeling her growing wetter by the moment.
She grabs the pillow, squeezes it in her hand, her little sleepy gasps turning into full, gorgeous moans, wide awake now as we fuck again, unable to help ourselves.
I kiss the back of her neck, her hair as she lets go of the pillow and places her hand on top of mine holding her hip, pushes back against me.
"Harder…" she breathes as we're both wide awake now.
"Like this?" I say, as I push into her harder, faster.
"Mmm…! Garou…! …Ohhh…!"
And every time she says my name like that, it breaks something small inside of me, something I don't need, with every moan of my name another piece, letting something better, lighter in.
"Garou…!"
I'm here. I've got you darlin'. I’ve got you.
But I can fucking hardly keep cool, stay sane. She's so fucking wet now, all hot and soft and tight around my cock and I fucking can't.
There's no point holding back. I want her now.
And it looks like she does too, arching her back against me so tight, moaning my name…
It doesn't take very long at all before she's ready to cum for me again, before I feel those soft little movements in her, that gasp before pure ecstasy and I hear her pleasure all over again, mesmerised how it just sounds better every time as the feeling of her heady orgasm takes me right there with her. And we're both just a happy mess of sweat and heat and groans, her delighted whimpers.
I do as I'm told. Throw on something clean and feed Delilah, who is less than pleased with me and how disorganised I must seem to her, feeding her at any odd hour but it doesn't matter. She can deal with it for a day.
"Excellent," she says after we're both done panting, reaching back, running her hand through my hair as I press her back closer to me. "Now tell me something I don't know…" she says, full of affection.
I think. There are lots of things, but most of them ain't very pleasant and I don't want to spoil the moment.
I think.
"When I was seven, I buried a treasure in the backyard and made a map. And then I lost the map and I don't fuckin' remember where I buried it," I say.
I hear her soft giggle as she laces her fingers through mine.
"What was your treasure? Maybe we can look for it again."
"It was some monster toys and some of my pocket money," I say, jogging my memory. "Yeah we should really look. I could be fuckin' rich, eh?"
"That's so cute," she says, pulling my arm tighter around herself. "I can see that. Tell me something else."
"I set all the records in high school for running and shit."
"You mean athletics?" She confirms.
"Yeah, all that," I say.
"I can believe that!" She exclaims. "No surprises there."
"But they took them all fuckin' down after I got expelled," I can feel myself frowning.
"Bastards," she says, and I can hear her frowning in support.
And somehow, I just get on this roll. She opens something inside my mind and I just tell her this and that. Nothing too earth shattering or that important but all these little things I had put away, considered useless, hadn't bothered to think about these last however many years. These pieces of my Iife I had forgotten, deemed unnecessary. And we lie there and I tell her things and she listens until we're both way too hungry.
"Ok!" She says eventually, throwing the covers off. "We’re going to celebrate your birthday!"
"Ok," I say, "get back in here," and try to pull her in for one more round, my kind of celebration, but she ain't having it.
"I would have really liked to make you a cake myself but it's fine," she says, expertly slipping out of my grasp and quickly picking up her clothes, pulling her jeans on. "Get up, put some pants on, feed Delilah and then we're going," she says.
"Going where?"
"Outside," she smiles looking from the bright blue sky in the window to me. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
I'm just about to get a Coke out of the fridge when she's back and pulls me away, saying I gotta work on my addiction and we step outside.
It's the first proper warm day, much closer to the edge of summer.
It's just another Saturday. To everyone else it's just another fucking Saturday but I feel this is some new age. No one who walks past us as we make our way up the main street, all the cars, all the shop fronts, no one could even fucking begin to understand how different today is for us. How much had to happen before we got to be here, walking easy like this. Nothing at all between us. Having seen and tasted and heard everything. Finally everything. Enjoyed, explored everything of each other.
I don't even fucking hesitate, grab her hand as she leads me to wherever it is she wants to take me.
She looks at me with surprise and slows down just for a fraction of a second, and this smile, half excitement and half shyness lights up her face, cheeks growing lovely and red for a few moments.
She takes me to some place I probably walked past a million times but never noticed. Some cafe or whatever the fuck and picks out all this food and this cake. I tell her she doesn't need to but she ignores me and gets it anyway.
Then we walk down to the water. And this time it's bright, the wind is warm. We still feel we don't belong here by these waterfront mansions but it still doesn't fucking matter, just like it didn't last time.
We go through the trees, down the path to the sand and even though it ain't easy on this steep and narrow trail, I ain't letting go of her hand.
This place looks fucking different in daytime. Same broken pier, same sand but golden now, not the cold silver blue of winter nights. The water this dark green and not a black heaving mass we sat by that night.
We sit on the pier. There are people walking up and down the beach, dogs running around, but still, it's quieter here, tucked away around from the nightlife further up the road.
And we just sit and eat, enjoying the sun, the sound of the lazy waves.
"I can't wait to go swim," she sighs happily.
"Not here," I say.
"Obviously not here," she laughs. "I don't think it's very safe to swim here. Take me back to your little holiday town," she flashes me this brilliant smile and I feel this squeeze in my chest.
I'll take you anywhere you want. Just say the word.
She stretches her legs out in front of her and lifts her face to the sun. And there's something new about her expression. Something a lot less tense. Like she's let go of something frightening and heavy.
'I love you.'
Everyone always thinks these words are fucking magical, the happiest thing. But she, and I, both of us, carried that around like a terrifying secret. Those words, too dangerous to think, let alone say out loud. But not anymore.
I feel her lie back, her head in my lap, just like I would do lying on her couch. There is no hesitation anymore and it makes me so fucking happy.
She reaches up, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun, the other on my face.
"Happy birthday," she says, this soft caress against my forehead, cheek.
This is the best fucking one yet.
She opens the last box, the cake.
"Hope you don't mind not having candles," she says, kneeling down, carefully cutting pieces.
"I don't know…I don't know if I can get over that," I say, full of apprehension.
"Honestly," she pauses and grins up at me. "The smart ass just never stops, huh?"
"Never," I agree and I can't fucking help it. She's so close. And I don't care she's in the middle of doing something. Take her face, pull her in closer, kiss her until she can't breathe and I don't care who's watching.
She tries to protest for a moment, indicating to the cake, but I don't fucking care and then she's all mine, as if melting into me, wanting more.
She looks quickly around after we're done and then goes back to the cake as if nothing just happened, the only evidence this dusting of pink across her cheeks.
"Here," she gives me this huge piece of cake covered in white and yellow frosting, takes a much smaller one for herself.
I look at her questioningly.
"I told you!" She says. "It goes straight to my thighs!"
"It ain't the only thing," I say proudly, nodding at her before digging in.
She's about to say something but then just pushes my hand against my face and can't contain her laughter, seeing me covered in icing.
"That's funny, eh?" I say, nonchalant as I can be. "You reckon that's funny?" Before I grab her and kiss her again, the icing sweet between her mouth and mine, leaving traces of it against her face now too as she laughs and I grin through this kiss.
It's the best fucking birthday.
It's late afternoon by the time we get home.
"Go put that in the fridge," she says, indicating to the leftover food, the cake and goes into the living room.
When I'm done and go to join her I find her standing there, middle of the room, wearing nothing at all.
I stop. Stop a few steps away from this naked beauty, standing there in the afternoon sun pouring through the window, illuminating all her bare curves.
She beckons to me with her finger and I obey.
I feel her hands on my face, pulling me down for this slow soft kiss, before they go to the edge of my shirt, lifting it slowly, undressing me.
"Happy birthday," she whispers in the most barely there, seductive voice right next to my ear I've ever heard before she pushes me down on the couch, making me sit and getting on her knees, unbuttoning, unzipping me.
And before I know it, I feel her warm, gorgeous mouth around my cock and fuck…Her tongue grazing softly against me, her head slowly up and down as she makes sure to get as much of it in as possible, sucking lightly, teasing before going harder, deeper.
I feel myself groan and can't focus on a fucking thing, just feel this raw pleasure she's giving me spread all through me, every muscle. Fuck.
I feel my hand in her hair as she runs her own hands up and down my still bruised chest, traces her fingers along my hip, never stopping, never fucking stopping until she makes me cum hard and panting and then gives me this angelic smile, looking up at me after she swallows and I think I've fucking died and gone to some fucking heaven.
Did I fucking mention this was the best birthday yet?
My eyes open slow when I hear the knock on the door. After she took such fucking good care of me I of course returned the favour and by then, everything considering, we were pretty fucking tired. My eyes open slow and I feel her on top of me as I lie on the couch, both of us just dozing.
Suddenly she hears it too and jumps up, starting to throw all her clothes back on.
I quickly do the same and when we look presentable again I open the door, knowing exactly who it is.
"Uncle!" The kid looks up at me, almost expecting me to not be here or something.
"Hey kid," I say. "You here for the cat?" Of course he is. Why else would he be here?
"No, I just…I just wanted to ask if you're ok," he looks at the ground all shy.
Suddenly, I feel bad. I feel bad because I don't deserve his concern. He sees me as this innocent victim of some meaningless crime but I'm fucking worse than any of those assholes. Probably.
"Yeah," I say, now just as awkward as him.
I gotta do fucking better. Fuck.
We stand there, both silent and uncomfortable for our own reasons until she comes up behind me and takes over, always knowing what to do.
"Hi Tareo!" She says. "Would you like some cake?"
"Cake?" He looks up, now all excitement. I mean who doesn't fucking love cake?
"Yeah, it was his birthday" she pokes me playfully in the shoulder "and we've still got some cake from lunch."
"Uncle, it's your birthday?" He looks up at me, suddenly panicking.
"Nah, it was yesterday," I wave it away. "Doesn't matter," I say as he comes in.
"I'll get you a present next year!" He says with that characteristic determination I like about him. "If I remember," he adds as a disclaimer.
I hope he doesn't. I ain't done anything to deserve it.
"How is your training going?" She asks as we sit around the table, finishing off the cake.
"Good," he says, looking up with mouth covered in crumbs and icing. "I really like it, but I'm not that good," he says, getting a bit embarrassed. "Everyone in the class is better than me," he says, suddenly so downcast. "But it's ok! I'm gonna keep practicing!" He rushes to reassure us.
Hmm.
"What d'you find hard?" I say.
"Well, the first form is ok…" he thinks about it. "But then the second form, when we do this-" he slips out of the chair and demonstrates the drill that’s etched into my brain, my muscle memory, I could do it in my sleep. "I always forget what goes next and then I just forget all the rest," he says glumly.
Yeah I remember it took me a few days to get that one myself.
"Finish your cake and I'll show you," I say.
"Really?" He suddenly lights up.
"Yeah," I say, confused why he's so excited. But she gives me this knowing look, this smile spilling over with joy.
She sits there by the back door and watches me, watches me with her beautiful, affectionate eyes as I take Tareo through the things he doesn't know, teach him the technique, completely unaware that very soon I’d be doing this for a living. Delilah practices her hunting happily around us.
It's golden hour. Covering us all in its inescapable, intense light. This bright light I'd never paid much attention to before. Before there was her.
I wake up from my half-sleep, still on top of her, feel the soft rise and fall of her chest, the steady beat of her heart.
It’s been almost a year since then. Since that afternoon drifting in and out of my memory. And she’s still here. And so am I.
Neither of us can imagine being anywhere else.
I glance outside.
It's still golden hour.
With her, it always is.
With you, it has never been brighter, light of my not so fucked up life.
With you. That’s all that matters.
To be with you. In this golden hour light.
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thedoctorswholigan · 11 days
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Texting with the gents of One Punch Man!
“She busy rn” text prank Part 1
Find Part 2 here: Pt. 2
incl. Saitama, Genos and Garou
warnings: Slightly suggestive themes but nothing explicitly nsfw, reader is female, cursing, mostly fluff!
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gofancyninjaworld · 8 months
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never shortchanged
Man, it's good to have a pet mad engineer who makes sure you don't look like you skip gym day. I love the attention given to Genos's back.
not bad
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better
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it'd be a crime to cover this up
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rose-riot-johnson · 1 year
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Hi my Tumblr Peeps😃 Today I decided I'd work on a particular character from One Punch Man today. And his name is Garou. I did try writing about him in fall 2021, however things wasn't going as planned and my device did crash earlier last year, so I got a new device which was how I was able to write about Mezo Shoji, Koji Koda, Gang Orca, Mitsuri Kanroji, etc.. Then I decided to start from scratch and figured... Why not work on this fanfic about Garou that I'm writing about.🤷‍♀️💡😃
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The Mutual Confession (Garou (One Punch Man) x (any gender reader)
Genres: Head Cannon(?), Confession (and/or Confession Fluff), Funny Light Hearted Fluff
*When you first met Garou it was by the bus stop. He will chat with you, however if you make a good impression on him (without realizing or knowing it), he will be a little shy while trying to show blushing on his face. He basically likes inner beauty and kindness (which are his weaknesses).
*On the bus (any kind of bus), if Garou catches anyone trying to flirt with you (especially since you made a good impression on him and he sees your kindness), he will definitely hint for them to back off. He feels that he's trying to show that you made a good impression on him. You were happy he's protective of you despite of you being atleast a little concerned about him.
*At (school/college/work), Garou notices that the (the other students/coworkers) were bullying you earlier, so after (school/college/work), Garou madesure to teach the same (other students/coworkers) who were bullying you a lesson to not harass you anymore, and Garou will do so in physical fashion, since he doesn't like bullies at all. Infact he hates bullies due to what happened in his childhood while he was in school. Garou just wanted to makesure you don't end up like him in anyway to makesure you don't get bullied anymore.
*As the (other students/coworkers) who did bully you apologized to you for what they did to you, you glanced at Garou walking by while trying to focus on their apology as well. You knew full well that Garou beat them up, while also knowing what Garou did to them being the reason why the (other students/coworkers) crying to you, as they're apologizing to you and pleading that they will not bully you nor be mean to you anymore.
*Months went by as Garou went to your place with the cake he stole (without getting caught somehow, since he's somehow sneaky with the cake) and the flowers he picked in the park (flowers weren't stolen). He knocked on your door, which you answered the door wondering how he knew where you lived, tough you smile and welcomed in your home anyways. He only knew where you lived because he saw you walked home one evening (only to makesure you got home safe).
*After Garou got inside your place for the first time ever, he really surprised you with cake and flowers. You were happy about the cake and the flowers that Garou got for you (even tough you were curious how he managed to get you that cake). Despite of your curiosity about how he got you that expensive looking cake, you appreciate the cake (just as well as the flowers) that he surprised you with anyways. Garou decided to ask you where the living room is, so he can have a talk with you, which you happily showed him where the living is. Afterwards you sat in one chair while Garou sat in the across from you.
*As Garou was about to try to confess that he has a crush on you, he blushed and had trouble finding the words to say about how he felt about you. After a minute of Garou trying to find the words to say his confession, you decided to take your turn to confess saying, "I get it, Garou. I like you, too.", as you smiled, because you knew since day one that you met him that he liked you, even tough Garou had trouble finding his words without being a blushing mess. Garou was definitely shocked to hear you confessed to him like that.
*When Garou was shocked to hear that out of you, while being a blushing mess, he would say, "You knew I... Uh... Liked... You?And since you... Um... Liked me... Too, then... How long... Did you... How do I say this...", as he frustrated in how to work this. You then cut him off saying that you had a crush on him since the last couple minutes before the bus came on that very day both you and Garou met at the bus stop, as you smile. What you told him not only surprised him more, however what you said also made him more of a blushing mess as his face kept getting more and more red, as each second went by.
*So, since the confession crush talk is out of the way both you and Garou got to know eachother more and more, as time went by. You just didn't care, if Garou had an occupation, or any kind of reputation Garou has, or anything like that. You accept him for who he is and he accepts you for who you are and he feels the same way about you. He's always right by your side and your always by Garou's side, as well. At this point nothing will come between you and Garou, because the fact is that you and Garou are eachother's soulmates together for all eternity.
The End
I have been wanting to successfully post a fanfic in Tumblr for a long time. Unfortunately I was unable to post a fanfic I was working on in fall of 2021. The fanfic I was unable to post about (due unknown reasons) did involve a bus stop and Garou beating up a bully and while last year after getting a new device I did thought about working on a confession story pertaining Garou, so while writing this fanfic I ended up writing about, I decided to mix a couple pieces of the fanfic I couldn't post in fall of 2021 and the confession thoughts of last year while making this a fun sunshine and rainbows type of head cannon(?), fanfic☀️🌈☀️🌈 Anyways my Tumblr Peeps, I hope you have fun reading this fanfic and it makes your day just as much as I had fun writing it while writing that made my day☀️🌈😁👍
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kaincuro · 2 years
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Badd, wasted: I love Garou so much.
Badd: He has the most incredible eyes… and he’s so wonderful.
Garou: That’s-
Badd: Shh… don’t tell him.
Garou, softly: Okay.
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blackhakumen · 9 months
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Mini Fanfic #1117: The Bear of Kyoukgen Arts (KOF X Art of Fighting)
2:56 p.m. in the Sarah Forest..........
Marco: (Takes a Very Deep Breath of his Outdoor Surroundings) Sarah Forest......One of mother nature's finest creations in all it's majestic. I never thought i would ever come back here. (Opens his Arms Wide Open) BUT HERE I AM! (Hears the Sound of his Voice Echoing Through the Forest Before Forming a Bright, Cheeky Grin on his Face)
Yuri: (Giggles Softly as She and Robert Follows Behind Marco) I can see why you like coming here. It's so nice and peaceful out here.
Robert: (Too Busy Swatting All the Bugs Away From Him) Sí. Can't say the same for these mosquitoes......They annoying little stronzi- Ack! (Suddenly Gets Knocked Down to the Muddy Ground) Ow. ('Sigh') And now my $1000.00 cargo shorts is dirt. (Places his Habd on the Side of his Cheek) Great. Any idea why we took an abrupt stop there, big guy?
Yuri: (Frowns a Bit in Worry) Yeah, Marco, what's wrong?
Marco: (Looks Around in a Suspicious Manner) Try not to panic, but.....I think we're being followed right now?
Robert: (Quickly Gets Back Up on his Feet) Followed!? By who-
Robert quickly shuts himself up as the roaring, animal sound is heard in the Sarah Forest. It didn't take long for him and Yuri to hiding behind a seemingly unfazed Marco as they see bear, wearing torn up, sleeve less gi, standing in front of them, growling with anger in his eyes.
Robert: (Shaking in Fear) W-W-W-Was that bear following us t-t-this whole time?
Yuri: M-Maybe? P-Probably?.....Indefinitely.......
The bear's growl starts getting more louder.
Yuri: (Puts on a Panic Yet Very Hopeful Smile on her Face) B-B-But it's gonna be okay! (Quickly Pulls Out her Mini Book From her Pocket and Quickly Reads Through it) According to this Camping Guide, all we have to do is keep standing here, make no sudden movements for at least 30-45 seconds, and- (Eyes Begins to Widened as She Sees Marco Running Forward) Marco, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?
Robert: GET BACK HERE!!!
Woth echoing battle cries from both sides, Marco and the bear rushes towards one another to deliver their fists directly towards their respective faces before jumping a few inches back. As they stare at each other for a few seconds later, they rush back and fiercely fight one another as if they're in a KOF ring and that their lives are on the line.
While that's happening, the couple, Robert and Yuri, watches it all play out with surprise and disbelief written all over both of their faces
Yuri: Robert.
Robert: Yes, Yuri?
Yuri: Wha.....(Extends her Arms Out at the Fight Scene in Front of her) What exactly am I even looking at right now?
Robert: This might be both us seeing things, but i think that bear just challenged Marco to a fight.(Leans Forward and Takes a Look at the Bear in Question) Wait, Is that our Kyoukgen Gi he's wearing right now-
Robert shrieks as he quickly and jumps onto Yuri's arms from a blue fireball flying by, knocking down a nearby tree with one hit, much to the heir of Garcia family's even more surprise.
Robert: ......And did he use a FREAKING KO-OU KEN just now!?
Yuri: It's not just that. (Shakingly Points Robert to What's Happening I'm Front of Them)
The Bear mimics and clashes with Marco's rising uppercut similar that to a.....
Robert: Kohou. He's doing a kohou- THAT BEAR DID A LITERAL KOHOU FIST JUST NOW!! THE FUCK!!!
Yuri: I know bears can be talented in some cases, but this is getting ridiculous!
The Bear then sends Marco flying to back to the shrieking duo with a kick to the chest.
'Thud'
Marco: (Gets Himself Back Up From the While Panting) I'll admit.....I was....not expecting this turn of events.....to happen so soon.....(Uses his Knuckle to Wipe the Blood Off From the Side of his Lips as Forms an Impressed Smirk on his Face) Not that I mind it, of course.
Robert: (Chuckles Awkwardly) Hey Marco, il mio amico vecchio amico!~ We're glad you're doing swell out there, but uh.....(Comically Glares at Marco) Who is that bear and why does he knows HALF of Kyoukgen Style techniques!?
Yuri: And why is he wearing one of our old gis!?
Marco: (Turns to the Couple Behind) I'll explain everything once this is all over. (Turbs Back to the Bear in Front of Him) In the meantime, leave this one to me! (Rushes Back Towards the Bear)
Yuri: NO! MARCO!!!
Robert: TORNA QUI, DANNAZIONE!!
Round two has just begun as the two unusual combatants rushes back and delivers every bit of attacks they can dish out to one another while parrying and countering each of them.as quickly as possible.
It didn't take long for them to punch each other in the face once more before winding their heads back and headbutt one another in the process. As they once again jumped back from each other's space, Marco pantingly watches his opponent mimics his stance and posture before getting on both of it's knees, declaring defeat.
Marco: (Chuckling While Still Panting) Still......got...it......
Marco suddenly falls down to the ground with Robert and Yuri frantically screaming out his name as his vision fades to black.
...........................................................
Marco: Where..........Where am I? Why is it so dark in here?
So you're awake, Marco Rodriguez.
Marco's eyes begins to widens as he sees a man in a dark, grayish blue gi turning away from him.
Marco: That gi......A-And the hair! Are you.......
The man turns around and reveals himself to be none of than the legendary Kyoukgen Karate Arts' master......
Marco: Mr. Karate? You're actually real!?
Mr. Karate (?): Hmph. (Walks Towards the Sitted Down Man) Whether I exist or not does not matter in the scheme of things. What DOES matter however, is the potential you seem to hold within. A potential that yet to be fully realized.
Marco: My potential?.....Fully realized?
Mr. Karate (?): Yes. (Balled his Fist Up) And I believe the test of your might and conviction will begin right. About. Now.
The long nose masked warrior begins to deliver a strong looking punch towards Marco's perspective as the young man let out a scream before coming back to reality and getting himself up from a wooden like-bed he was seemingly laying on, as one of his fellow Kyoukgen Karate Arts in training companion, Robert, quickly grabs his shoulder to help calm him down.
Robert: Hey, easy there, bud. You've just woken up.
Marco: Please I- Huh? (Turns to See Robert Sitting on One Side of the Bed) Robert? (Thens Turns and See Yuri Sitting on the Other Side) Yuri? Is that really you guys?
Yuri: (Hugs Marco Tightly With Teara Falling Down her Face) Of course it's us, you idiot!~ You had us both worried sick the moment you fought that bear! Don't ever scare like that again.....
Robert: ('Sigh in a Bit of Relief') Seriously.....I know you're Ryo's star pupil or whatever, but you're still just as much of a human as the rest of us here, you know?
Marco: (Quickly Bows his Head Down) O-Of course! I apologize for my recklessness today, it won't happen a- GAIN ACK! (Winces in Pain as He Stops Bowing and Felt a But of a Crack From the Back of his Neck)
Yuri: ('Sighs Heavily') Pleeeease take it easy on yourself before I start crying harder and bopping you in that big, dumb head of yours......
Marco: R-Right. I'm sorry.....(Looks Around the Room He's Staying in) Where are we? (It....looks somewhat familiar.....)
Robert: We brought you here in this cabin after you were unconscious.
A soft, roar is heard in the room as the trio sees the gi wearing bear begins to nervoulsy walk in the room.
Robert: And this big guy here helped us along the way.
Yuri: He felt so bad about attacking you earlier. It's kinda cute.
The Bear solemnly nodded in agreement..
Marco: (Starts Nodding Himself With his Arms Already Crossed Together) Hm. I see......(Happily Opens his Arms Up at the Bear in Question) Bobo, get over here and give your papa a hug, you big lug!~
The Bear smiles brightly as he rushes over to give Marco a big loving hug, much to the couple's shock.
Yuri: Papa?
Robert: Bobo!?
Marco: (Chuckles Lightly) Look at you! You've grown a lot since the last time I've saw you! And your performance was excellent today! I'm so proud!~
'Ahem'
The man and bear duo turn their heads to see Robert and Yuri staring at the both of them.
Robert: You mind telling us what's going on here, bud?
Yuri: (Starts Pouting at Marco) You promised you would tell us, so hop to it, mister!
Marco: (Hold his Hands Up in Front of Him in Defense) Alright, alright, I'm getting to it! (Clears his Throat Before Beginning his Explanation) Okay, so long ago when I was young and stupid like you two-
Yuri/Robert: Hey!/Oi!
Marco: I came to this forest to start my training alone 'till one night, I've stumbled upon this poor fella got himself trapped in a beartrap net when he was a little cub. Once I got him out of there and patched him up, I've started looking for his parents with little to no success. (Gently Rubs the Bear's Back) He spent his whole life scared and all alone in this forest, so I did what any parental figure would do and raised him as my own, even went as far as to teach him how to fend for himself in the Arts of Kyoukgen Karate until it was time for me to head back home. I've been thinking about him since then.....(Turbs Back to Bobo with Proud Smile on his Face) So you could imagine the pride and happiness in my eyes when I saw this boi all grown up and kicking his old man's ass at ease. (Went Back to Hugging Bobo Again) Making his Papa Rodriguez so proud today~ Yes, you did~
Yuri: (Covers her Mouth as Her Eyes Begins to Sparkle) Oh my gossssh!~ This is the most cutest thing I've ever seen yet!~
Robert: (Chuckles Lightly) You've never cease to amazed me, amico. You keep this up and you'll give your teach a run for his money on the master role in no time.
Marco: Oh no, I could never live up to Master Ryo's greatness. (Smiles Softly) But I'm glad that my teachings have made an impact on him throughout the years.
Yuri: (Shyly Twiddling her Fingers Together) Mr. Bobo, I know it's too much to ask but......(Bows to Bobo) Can I pleeeeease I have hug from you too?~
Bobo turns to Marco for his sign of approval.
Macro: (Simply Nodded to Bobo) Go ahead, boy. She won't bite.
Bobo turns back to Yuri and spread his arms wide open to her.
Yuri: (Squeals Happily as She Rushes Over Hugs the Bear Very Lovingly) Thank you so much!~ My name Yuri Sakazaki and I hope we can be the bestest of friends!~
Bobo happily hugs Yuri back, making the young woman even more happy than she has ever been.
Yuri: (Turns to Marco) We can please take him back home with us?~ Please, please, pleeeeeeeease!?~
Marco: (Shakes his Head) No can do, Yur. As well trained as he is, Bobo is a fully grown bear now. It would be too dangerous for him to step foot in the streets of Southtown. (Smiles Softly) But since we're already here, you two can have all the time in the world to get to know him, maybe teach him a thing or two on your own mix of the Kyoukgen Arts.
Yuri: (Smiles Brightly) Sure, I don't mind. I'm a bit rusty on the teaching side, but I'll still give it my best shot!~
Robert: (Smirks Confidently While Grabbing his Chin) And I'll be sure to have him look his best while he's kicking ass.
Yuri: (Turns to Robert) Robbie, how are you gonna get him to wear a suit and tie without angering him? He's a literal bear.
Robert: I'll......figure something out.....eventually.......
Marco: (Stares at Robert With a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Mmhmmm....How about you teach him your legwork attacks instead, pretty boy?
Robert: (Starts Rubbing The Back of his Head Back and Forth) Yeah, that.....sounds like a safer idea.
Marco: (Nodded Once More) Exactly. (Turns to Bobo With a Smile) You hear that, boy? You've nade yourself two new friends.
Bobo roars happily as begins to spend two to three days with the papa again after all these years
@thelexhex
@tampire
@albion-93
@helsic
@snk-universe
@keyenuta
@theweebmaster31
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paperficwriter · 2 years
Note
“being ok with your partner showing up at your house at 2.a.m, for any reason, no matter how small” This one maybe? It just seems very on brand for them lmao!
When Badd went to bed that night, he was ready to stay in the cocoon of warmth until morning. The house was freezing, and they couldn't afford to run a lot of heaters, so he had given the one they had to Zenko.
Sometime in the middle of the night, his phone started buzzing. His personal phone, not the work one he had gotten from the HA. The first time, he ignored it from under his comforter.
Then, it did it again.
And again.
Finally Badd reached a hand out to grab it, the light from the screen blinding as he rubbed his eyes and saw first of all that it was 2:03 a.m. and, second, that it was Garou: two texts, a call, and the most recent message: I'M OUTSIDE YOUR PLACE.
Okay, so he wasn't going to be staying asleep.
As he put on his slippers, Badd glanced out the window to find that snow was falling in thick flakes, making it hard to see anything beyond the white cascade glowing yellow from the street light. He trudged to the front door, opened it, and almost laughed. There was Garou, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, a collection of snowflakes affixed to his hair like ornaments and tinsel on silver Christmas trees. "It's about time you answered your phone."
"Yeah, crazy me, bein' asleep in the middle of the night. What the hell are ya doin' out in the snow?" he asked as he let him in. Well, not so much 'let him in' as allowed him to push by, trailing droplets of water behind him. "Your shitty shoes are soaked through, c'mon, let's get ya some better clothes."
"I went out for a run and lost track of how far I went, and what time it was." Garou took Badd's towel from him and rubbed it over his face and hair. When he stripped off his shirt, his normally pale skin was pink, and he grinned when he caught Badd looking. "Come here and give me a hug."
"Don't you fuckin' think about it." Badd didn't need to ask why he was out running in the middle of the night. Since they started hanging out, since they started dating, Garou had gotten more comfortable sharing that he was itching to move out of Bang's place. He wanted more of his own space, his own time, and for now he took it when he could, even if it was the dead of night in winter.
Badd pulled back his covers and yanked out a sweatshirt stuffed between the sheets and blankets. "Here."
Garou arched on thick brow. "Do I want to ask why you've got one of my sweatshirts in your bed?"
He didn't have a good reason. Garou smelled good. He liked having something of his. It felt like hugging Garou when he wasn't around. See, those were all not-good reasons, because they were ones he wasn't about to share. "The only thing I wanna hear from you is, 'gosh, thanks, Badd, for givin' me something warm to wear, and lettin' me sleep in your bed on the coldest night of the damn century.'"
"You're going to let me sleep in your bed?"
Badd ignored the blushing in his cheeks. Right. Garou had never slept over before. But it was fine this time, right? They'd been together for months. "Where the hell else are ya gonna sleep? Rest of the house is an ice cube."
He almost thought Garou would hesitate, but that was kind of dumb. This was Garou, after all, and he remembered that quickly as Garou all but dove into the bed like Badd might change his mind. He watched him squirm around, and then dodged his pants as they went flying from the bed and across the room. "Let me borrow some of your boxers."
"Why didn't ya do that before ya got in?!"
"What, did you want to watch that too--oof." He took the underwear right in the face, and it was only when he seemed like he had put them on that Badd finally climbed into bed next to him. His body was already warming up, and Badd tried to figure out where to put his hands, how to position himself.
Garou was the one who made that decision. He pushed Badd over--"Oi!"--and wrestled his arms around Badd's waist until he was spooning him. Badd could feel his whole body that way: the length of his legs, how big his hands were, how that chin felt resting on his shoulder. He shivered, hoping that Garou would assume it was just from the remaining chill.
"I'll pay you back. For letting me stay," he heard Garou say quietly in his ear, and he kissed Badd's warm cheek. "'Night."
He wanted to tell him not to worry about it...but that struck his curiosity. What did Garou consider when he was paying someone back? Especially his boyfriend...so instead he gave his arm a squeeze and simply replied, "'Night, Garou."
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I need to write more garou content.
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the-nysh · 1 year
Note
if you had the chance to pick the volume covers for the remainder of the Monster Association arc, which characters and moments would you pick? :o
Besides Garou? Obviously, since Spiral Garou was shafted from us, he's gotta be saved for later then. Him and Bang, particularly after Garou's awakening, I feel deserve their moments, esp for the rest of this (his) arc. Also since any more 'fluff' covers (oversaturated with Saitama doing random things for ex) just won't fit the increasingly 'doomed' tone, I'm open to more plot relevant moments getting adapted too (and I'm willing to be surprised over which Murata chooses- Garou's glowing Buddha 'fist' for the Centipede-chop was another fav/cathartic moment, but any further 'god' themed ones will probably just upset me, so hhh), over solo character covers.
Which if anyone else deserves their next solo spotlight...several covers ago I was thinking Flash (unsure if Murata will include Platinum and the other cadre monsters?), but now also perhaps Blast??? I'd be very pleasantly surprised if he gets the spoilerly cover treatment - but if anything, to see his finalized color scheme too. And if Saitama gets any more featuring just himself, I'd much prefer the contemplative/introspective ones of him looking depressed, dark and villainous self-doubting himself over him looking 'heroic,' Murata could even just reuse that one colored spread of him and Garou--flipped in the 'hero' position, standing off in front of Jupiter, which would much more closely fit the theme. But if Murata wants to emphasize more of their yin-yang 'bro fist' cooperation later, I'd enjoy that theming a lot more. :'))
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olinblogin · 6 months
Text
LIST OF FANDOMS I WILL/WON’T WRITE FOR
What fandoms I will write for;
-Lego Monkie Kid
-One Piece
-One Punch Man
-Assassination Classroom (limited characters)
-COD (call of duty, any game)
-ATSV (across the spiderverse)
-TADC (the amazing digital circus)
-Underverse/undetale AUs
-Br0kenColors
What fandoms i won’t write for;
-Genshin Impact/Honkai impact
-Seven Deadly Sins
-Obey Me/Obey Me nightbringer
-FNF (Friday night funkin)
-MHA (my hero academia)
-Hazbin Hotel/Helluva boss
-other fandoms that have problematic backgrounds
WHAT I WILL WRITE!!!
-platonic
-light angst
-fluff
-slightly suggestive content (will have a warning)
-smut content (will have a warning)
-childhood romance (no smut.)
-teen romance (no smut.)
-Reader x character
-character x character (very rarely)
-character x Reader x character
-polycules
-T4T (trans for trans relationships)
-F4F (femme for femme relationship)
-M4M (masc for masc relationship)
-F4TF (femme for trans femme)
-F4TM (femme for trans masc)
-F4TNB (femme for trans non binary)
-F4A (femme for any)
-M4TF (masc for trans femme)
-M4TM (masc for trans masc)
-M4TNB (masc for trans non binary)
-M4A (masc for any)
-LGBTQ content
-Yandere Content (not extreme)
WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE!!!
-r@pe/noncon/dubcon
-cnc (consensual non-consent)
-child x adult
-abusive scenarios
-anything to do with children involved in anything sexual
-racism
-ableism
-unsanitary fetishes (i.e. scat, wound f*cking, etc)
-severe angst
-s*icide & s*lf h*rn
Characters I’ll write for in each fandom
BR0KENCOLORS
—characters so far—
Stalker/Damon (usually Poly)
Deliver Guy/DG (usually Poly)
Rasmus
Angel
Shadowman (not much I for abt them, some nsfw - demisexual)
Gunther
Leevi
—characters not in game yet but I will write—
Ace (some nsfw - demisexual)
Catherine
Milkman
Milla (no nsfw)
Salvador (some nsfw - demisexual)
Mimic
Pearl
Venni
LEGO MONKIE KID
- MK (Qi Xioatian)
-Mei Dragon
-Redson
-Sun Wukong
-Six Eared Macaque
-Ao Lie
-Lady Bone Demon
-The Mayor
-Yin & Jin
-Princess Iron Fan (Poly)
-Demon Bull King (Poly)
-Tang
-Pigsy (platonic)
-Sandy (platonic)
-Nezha (platonic)
-Bai He (platonic)
ONE PIECE
- Monkey D. Luffy
-Vinsmoke Sanji
-Roronora Zoro
-Usopp
-Nico Robin
-Franky
-Chopper (platonic)
-Nami
-Jinbei
-Donquixte Doflamingo
-Donquixte Rosiante
-Bartolomeo Kuma
-Boa Hancock
-Dracule Mihawk
-Crocodile
-Shanks
-Rayleigh
-Portgaz D. Ace
-Marco
-Thatch
-Izou
-Edward Newgate, Whitebeard (platonic)
-Eustass Kidd
-Jewelry Bonney
-Killer
-Monkey D. Harp
-Monkey D. Dragon
-Sabo
-Trafalgar Law
-Buggy
-Smoker
-Rob Luci
-Eneru
-Kalifa
-Yamato
-Perona
-Shaci
-Penguin
-Bepo (platonic)
-Akainu
-Kizaru
-Borsalino
ONE PUNCH MAN
-Saitama
-Genos
-Garou
-King
-Child Emporer (platonic)
-Metal Bat
-Speed O’ Sound Sonic
-Mumen Rider
-Watchdog Man (mostly platonic)
-Fubuki
-Atomic Samurai
-Lord Boros
-Bang
-Zombieman
-Flashy Flash
-Sweet Mask
-Charanko
ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM
(Any students such as Nagisa or Karma are platonic)
-Koro-Sensei
-Tadaomi Karasuma
-Irina Jelavic
COD - CALL OF DUTY
-Simon “Ghost” Riley
-John “Soap” MacTavish
-John “Captain” Price
-Horangi (Hong-Jin)
-König
-Nikolai
-Valeria Garza/El Sin Nombre (F4F/NB/AFAB)
-Alejandro Vargas
-Phillip Graves
-Farah Karim
-Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
-Kate Laswell (F4F)
-Gary “Roach” Sanderson
ATSV - ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE
-Miles Morales (platonic/fluff)
-Gwen Stacy (Platonic/Fluff)
-Pavitr Prabhakar (platonic/fluff)
-Prowler Miles (platonic/fuff)
-Peter B. Parker
-Jess Drew
-Miguel O’Hara
-Hobie Brown
TADC - THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS
-Pomni
-Jax
-Zooble
-Kaufmo
-Ragatha
-Gangle
-Caine
-Kinger
UNDERVERSE / UNDERTALE AUS
-Ink!Sans (platonic)
-Classic!Sans
-Nightmare!Sans
-Dream!Sans
-Swap!Sans
-Fell!Sans
-Killer!Sans
-Dust!Sans
-Horror!Sans
-Murder Time Trio (Killer!Sans, Dust!Sans, Horror!sans)
-Error!Sans
-AT!Sans (Geno)
-Fatal Error
-X!Sans (Cross)
-Outer!Sans
-Reaper!Sans
-Fresh!Sans
IF YOU DID NOT SEE ANY CHARACTERS OF INTEREST AND YOU’D LIKE ME TO WRITE PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!
please as well reread the will/won’t write section if you’re feeling unsure!
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underqualified-human · 11 months
Text
King, Saitama, Garou, Metal bat, and Mumen Rider: Short, Strong, Goth gf
→ Request: Hello may I request king, saitama, garou, Metal bat, and mumen rider from one punch man, that has a 5’2 goth female s/o and is very powerful with fluff, If you can’t then that’s okay but have a great day/afternoon/night :) 
→ A/N: First time writing for Mumen Rider, sorry if it’s not good
→ Warnings:
→ Fandom: One Punch Man
→ Genre: Headcanons
→ Pronouns: She/Her
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Saitama:
A little bit impressed by how strong you are
Might ask you to spar with him, but is also nervous about accidentally killing you so he backs out of actually asking
Thinks your style is pretty cool
Goes clothes shopping with you, but won’t buy anything for you [maybe as a birthday/Christmas gift]
Doesn't really think much of your height, but will tease you if you need help reaching something [i say this as a 5’1 bitch myself]
King:
You + King = ‘He asked for no pickels’
Finds out about your strength and just goes ‘protect me please’
Your vibes and his reputation make you guys a power couple in the public eye [you are]
Holds you in his lap while playing video games [after much mirror-peptalk]
Metal Bat/Baddo:
Public power couple 2
Actually spars with you [it's his love language]
Likes to go shopping with you whenever he has time
Probably brings Zenko with you on the shopping trips as well
You being strong brings him a large amount of comfort, both because you can protect yourself and because you can help protect Zenko
Willing to get into fights if anyone insults your height
Mumen Rider:
‘He asks for no pickles’ part 2
Is actually really inspired by you, whether you’re a hero or not
Was actually slightly intimidated by you at first
Isn't really into goth fashion, but is still supportive of you 
Doesn't care at all about your height
Garou:
Honestly, he would be interested in experimenting with his fashion sense
Thinks your vibes are cool
The asshole that makes jokes about your height
Also spars with you as a love language, but more so to show off to you
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garoumylove · 2 years
Text
Golden Hour Part 11
My domestic fluff ♥️GarouxReader!♥️ (Written from Garou’s point of view) In this part Garou goes to the museum with you and almost has his way in the end. Almost. You can also read it on AO3 here :)
I put the book down and check the time, giving Delilah a quick scratch behind the ear. She’s been butting my head with her nose for the last five minutes, waiting for attention, but I was just wantin’ to finish this chapter.
“Time to go,” I say to her as she rubs her forehead against mine.
I toss the book carefully back on the desk as I get up, Delilah looking up at me curiously from my bed, wondering where the hell I’m off to all of a sudden.
“You,” I point at her. “You’re gonna stay here and guard the house,” I say as I turn back to the closet. “Not that there’s fuckin’ much to guard…”
Now. What the fuck am I supposed to wear to the fuckin’ museum?
I gotta back up here. How the fuck did I end up here, scratching my head over museum attire? Last time I been to a museum was in elementary school when we went to look at dinosaurs. I fuckin’ remember because we were supposed to buddy up or some shit, and yet, as usual I’d ended up by my fucking little self. That was thanks to that little fucker Tacchan. I didn’t even fuckin’ care to be honest. Better to hang out by yourself than tag along with a brat all day.
But I ain’t here to tell you a sob story.
Cut back to last Saturday night. Back at her place. Dinner is finished. I’ve made a fucking idiot out of myself again, but I’m happy.
We go to the living room and straight away the guy makes a line for the armchair. That leaves me nowhere to sit but the floor or the couch with her. I was sure he’d want to sit next to his sister since they don’t see each other all that fuckin’ much. But no. He sits in the armchair, like a fucking king. And she sits in her usual corner of the couch.
And if I sit on the floor, that looks mighty impolite, like there’s something wrong with sitting next to her. So I sit on the other side, as politely as my swimming mind will let me.
She puts on the tv, kind of quietly in the background. No one’s really watching, but we’re all catching the storyline anyway. It’s one of those friendly, relaxed evenings. At least I guess that’s what it is since I ain’t exactly used to being around company.
To be perfectly fucking honest, I don’t remember much of the detail. I just remember having a nice fuckin’ time. Everything seems dandy. No one is hassling me, I just got a good fuckin’ meal, and ice cream…I mean, what more can a man want?
But I remember this exchange. Because that’s why I’m in this fucking little predicament now.
“So,” he says, finishing off another glass of wine. I’ve stopped asking myself at this point how he can fucking drink and drink and drink that shit and remain so placid, “what do you kids usually do for fun?”
He looks from her to me, back to her.
“I don’t know,” she says casually, looking at her phone, slowly twisting a lock of hair around her finger. This question doesn’t seem to phase her in the slightest. “I teach him to cook and we watch TV mostly.”
“God,” he sighs, “even Granma has more fun than that!”
She stops with her phone and looks up at him.
“Granma lives in a fancy retirement village where they have all the free time in the world and get to play bingo and poker any time they want. I come home tired after work. What do you want me to do?”
I look from him to her as she speaks. You know, I never really thought about that. When I come home, I feel fucking tired too. Not physically, but just this goddamn weariness of the whole situation. Being an adult isn’t all it’s fucking cracked up to be turns out. I’d never really considered how she might feel. She always smiles when she sees me in the evening and always talks to me, asks me questions. Always listening to what I gotta say. I’d never thought that that takes energy. I ain’t exactly a great conversation partner.
She’s doing all that for me, I suddenly realise. She could just tell me to fuck right on back home and sit in the bath all evening. But I’m invited in, fussed over, fed, even though she must be fucking exhausted. I feel like a goddamn idiot. And this hot feeling of guilt in my throat.
“Alright, alright,” he throws up his hands after putting the wine glass down on the coffee table. “But come on now, you need to get out of this house sometime,” he says, looking at her with half affection and half concern. “There must be something you want to do.”
“Mm…kind of,” she says and goes back to her phone and twisting her hair.
He stares at her with expectation and I find I do the same. She ain’t ever mentioned anything. She probably thinks I’m not fucking old enough, or smart enough or whatever to talk to me about it. I don’t blame her.
“Well…?” he says, exasperated when the answer is not coming and she keeps ignoring him.
She clicks her tongue in this slightly annoyed way, like she’s a little self-conscious to say.
“I want to go to the art exhibition at the museum,” she finally says, never taking her eyes off the screen. “They’ve got paintings from all over the world. It’s supposed to only be here for three months.”
That’s not what I was expecting if I’m entirely honest. But it makes sense why she wouldn’t have said anything to the likes of my delinquent ass about it. What the fuck do I know about painting?
“And what’s stopping you from going?” he says, eyes narrowing.
“Nothing, I guess,” she says. “It’s just…not fun going by yourself. And I don’t know anyone who’d like to go to that sort of thing.”
Fuck. I’d like to go. Not for the painting. But if it means that much to her.
We go all sorts of places now. Took a little convincing her that I didn’t hate it. I can’t say I love all these things. I don’t get a lot of it. But it means something to her. And I always end up learnin’ something and that ain’t ever a bad thing. Shit, I’m so cultured now I can tell you the difference between a symphony and a fuckin’ opera. There’s this whole other world out there besides home and fucking work and the back alleys and even if it ain’t really my thing most of the time, I always get the pleasure of her happy company. That’s all that matters.
He looks at her the way she looks at me sometimes. The way you look at a difficult but beloved child.
“Let me make this really easy for you,” he says slowly, carefully, pressing his fingertips together and turning to me. “Wolf Cub, would you like to go to the art exhibition?”
I blink while my brain tries to keep up with the situation.
“Yeah,” I finally say.
“Wolf Cub, would you please ask her highness over there if she’d like to go to the art exhibition,” he instructs.
“Your highness,” I say, turning to her, just happily following orders, “do you wanna go to the museum?”
She glances up at me with this lovely laugh, but I can see this light rosy colour in her cheeks.
“You don’t have to play his games,” she says to me, leaning her head on her hand. “It’s ok. I’ll live.”
“I ain’t playing games,” I say, suddenly feeling very fucking confident. I feel like I’d just been called chicken or something. I don’t know. “Or you think I ain’t smart enough for the museum?”
“Yeah,” he joins in. “Do you think he’s not smart enough for the museum, love?”
She takes this deep breath in and sighs.
“I don’t think you’re not smart enough for the museum,” she says, and there’s that lovely pink across her face again. “Do you really want to go?”
I was ready to argue a bit more and find I have to take a step back mentally at her acquiescence.
“Yeah,” I say. I do. Because it will be with you.
“Ok, we’ll go then. But you better not complain once we’re there,” she says and I give her a grinning salute. Feels like a victory.
And he leans back in his armchair, nodding at us, as if he knows something we’re a little too dumb to know ourselves.
“You’re going to regret this,” she smiles at me and goes right back to her phone to book the tickets.
So here I fuckin’ am.
I don’t think you’re supposed to wear anything particularly fucking special to the museum, are you? I look through whatever clothes I got. Ah. This shirt. This white button-up. That’s school. That’s the one that didn’t get torn and bloodied. Why the fuck do I still have this thing? Nothing but bad fucking memories. The school crest is sewn onto the front pocket but it’s in white, so hardly noticeable. White on white. No. Whatever. It’s just the fucking museum. I grab the first clean t-shirt I see and push the door shut.
When I check the time again it’s still early. I sit back down on the mattress and pull the book towards me.
This ain’t like me. I don’t know why the fuck but it’s gotten into my brain.
She’d left those books for me back when I had been sick and I reckoned it’d be pretty fuckin’ rude to return them straight away. I don’t think she actually thought I’d read any of them but it still felt like bad fucking manners to return them two days later, as if her efforts were in vain. So I’d let them sit there, on my desk for a bit.
And then the cat, bigger and much more curious now, had jumped up on there and started having her own fun, pushing shit off. So when I got home, they were all sprawled on the floor while she sat on the windowsill looking mighty fucking satisfied with herself. Little shit. Adorable. But still a little shit. Just like me.
I went to pick them up (if they were mine I wouldn’t give a fuck) and this one caught my eye. Because the title pissed me off. A Hero Of Our Time. And this portrait of an asshole straight out of last century on the front. I ain’t ever liked superhero stories, ever since I was a kid. Most kids do. I don’t know why. It’s the same fucking story over and over. The pretty boy wails on the monster, who’s usually just some misunderstood fucking loner, and everyone cheers. Always the same fucking shit. If you’re popular you win. If you’re not, you lose. If you’re popular, you’re loved. If you’re not, you’re fucking trash and deserve what’s coming to you.
A Hero Of Our Time.
Give me a fucking break. I know she didn’t do this deliberately or anythin’. It’s not like she could know, and I feel a bit fuckin’ childish getting worked up over it but it is what it is.
I look at the title again. This playground flashback goes through my mind. Being made to play the monster.
I feel so fucking stupid now, remembering how fucking happy I was when they first asked if I wanted to play. It was the first time anyone had bothered. Usually, they’d all just leave me alone at lunch, or just whisper behind my oblivious little back. I still remember this fleeting feeling of acceptance…before being put in my fucking place. Always the monster. Always-
Fuck. I need to snap out of this bullshit.
I look at the book in my hand. I wonder if she’s actually read it or it’s just one of those classics you have just to display on the shelf. I turn it over. I see there are a couple of pages with folded corners, makeshift bookmarks. I guess she has.
I flip it open. It’s not a particularly long book. I have no expectations. No. I have very bad fucking expectations. I skim through the first page. It’s not how I thought it was going to be.
It starts on some fucking hills in some place I’ve never heard of. Where’s the fuckin’ hero? I’m already fuckin’ angry in advance.
I go onto the next page. More mountains and casual historic racism. I flip to the back. When the hell was this written?
1830s. Figures.
I go back to page two. No hero yet. But I’ve got this rage now about this whole thing so I gotta keep going.
And the more I keep going the more intrigued I get.
This hero…When he finally shows up, he ain’t really a hero.
I find myself reading here and there over the next two weeks. It’s not so much the plot that interests me but the way this son of a bitch is described. How he thinks. Everyone treats him like a fucking hero but he’s a fucking asshole. And the author knows this but the other characters around him don’t. He’s this pretty, rich boy army officer and everyone is falling over themselves to kiss his ass but all he does is play them all like a fucking violin. He’s smart and he’s aware of how fucked up he is, and that’s intriguing to me because every other ‘hero’ I’ve seen think they’re the fucking shit, like they can do no wrong. But this asshole… He knows he’s goddamn evil, and pushes people’s buttons just for shits and giggles. I guess the message is about wasted potential or somethin’. Just like me. ‘Wasted potential.’ How many times had I seen that on the old school report, eh?
Anyway, the only time he seems to have any real feelin’s is when the woman he wants doesn’t want him. And then he gets all fuckin’ introspective about maybe he hasn’t made the best decisions in life. And I hate to fuckin’ admit it, but I sort of relate to this asshole. And this just makes me even more angry.
I hear Delilah meow and check the time again. Fuck. Now I’m gonna be late. I mark the page with a random bit of paper lying around and put the book back on the desk.
“Remember, you’re guardin’ this place,” I give her a stern look again before heading out.
“You’re late,” she says, heading across the street to meet me. “Spent too long picking out an outfit?” she says, adjusting the collar of my hastily thrown on jacket.
“Doin’ my hair,” I wink at her. I don’t do a fuckin thing to my hair. What the fuck is there to be done to this wild mess?
I’m glad to see she ain’t dressed to the nines. Somewhere between work and making dinner. But fucking beautiful as usual.
I knew you didn’t have to dress in a fucking tux to go to the museum.
It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon and we easily find seats on the train. After a moment of hesitant silence she turns to me.
“You didn’t have to come, you know,” she says, looking at me with big serious eyes.
“Ok, I’ll get off at the next stop and go back home,” I say, ready to get up but she pulls me back down by the sleeve, knowing full well that I’m joking.
“I don’t mean I want you to go!” She says. And I’m so fucking pleased to hear that. “I just don’t think you’ll enjoy it,” she says, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets and looking uncomfortably away. “You don’t have to spend your weekends hanging out with someone boring like me and going to the museum of all places. You should be living your exciting teenage life.”
How? How can I tell her that I all I fuckin’ want to do is be here next to her? How can I say that without sounding so…
You are the exciting part of my life. Well, one of the two exciting things in my life. The lovelier, much more beautiful one.
Nowadays, now that we’re both on the same page, life is nothin’ but excitement. Yeah, there’s still fuckin’ work but there’s also trips to here and there, late night outings, drinking games, fuckin’ in the great outdoors… Excitement aplenty. More than I’d ever thought I’d have. Broadening my horizons. Variety is the spice of life, she always says. And ain’t that the truth. We’ve probably fucked in twenty different public places. Not caught once, yet.
But in all seriousness. She pushes me out of that cramped space in my mind which tells me the only thing to do is to fight, fight for your fucking life and your dignity. Which I still sometimes do. But she’s shown me there’s a lot more in this world than that. And we’re still explorin’.
The museum is busy. Looks like there are a lot of people that like to look at old paintings of dead people and misty horizons and bowls of fruit of all fuckin’ things. I don’t get the appeal.
“I don’t pity you,” I say. It’s the truth. And I think that’s what she was worried about.
She looks up at me for a moment and then gives me this gorgeous smile.
“Thanks,” she says. “I don’t pity you either.”
I wasn’t expecting that. But I think somewhere in the back of my mind I had thought it. That idea had gotten stuck in there on repeat. That I was just the stray to be taken care of and pitied for my reprehensible, unreformable violent ways. I thought maybe that was the extent of her feelings for me.
“You’re smart,” she says when I don’t reply, too lost in my own speculation, my fist clenching at the thought of never getting beyond her pity. “And hilarious,” she continues and suddenly I feel her hand on mine, gently prying my fingers away from my palm. “And very kind,” she says, tracing her fingertips over my hand, mesmerising me as I try to keep very still, to not give away how much this makes me feel, deep and intense. “Even if you don’t think so,” she finishes as the train comes to a stop and we arrive. The contact broken. But not her spell.
“They’re in chronological order,” she says, briefly pointing down the long hallway, both sides hung with these paintings of all shapes and sizes. “Starting with the Renaissance, all the way to early twentieth century later on,” she says.
Looks like we’re going to be doing a lot of fucking walkin’ and starin’.
We see a lot more paintings of churches, and mountains and flowers and parties and I get a crash course in fucking art history of all things, while all I can think about, all my mind jumps between is the feel of her hands and the sight of her naked in that window and how I want to bring those two things together into one reality.
“So what’s the point?” I say, as we stop early on to gaze at some woman and some rocks and some angels.
“This is a da Vinci,” she looks at me incredulously.
“So what’s the point?” I repeat, as this tells me nothing.
“The point of what?” she asks. “Of painting or of looking?”
“Both,” I shrug.
“Have you ever tried to paint anything?” She raises her eyebrow at me.
“Not since third grade,” I say.
“What did you paint?” She asks, genuinely curious.
“A wolf,” I tell her. I still remember that. It was up on the fridge at home for a while until-
“That’s really damn cute,” she laughs. “I’m not surprised. Do you still have it?”
“No,” because, you see, there was that day when-
“Well, then you know how hard it is. These men, and it’s usually men, worked all their lives perfecting their craft. If nothing else, just see it as a showcase of manual skill.”
Alright. That I can appreciate. Working to be the best at something. Even if I don’t get the result, I can respect that.
“That’s all there is to it,” she continues. “Just appreciate the beauty and time and skill it takes to produce it. There’s a lot of messages and morals of the story too but if nothing else, we can just appreciate that someone poured their heart and soul into it, into all those intricate details. I mean look,” she points to the canvas of the next painting, “look at the detail on the water there, on the waves. It looks almost real, doesn’t it?”
I look a bit closer. It is somewhat interesting. These little splashes of paint that just look like random dabs up close but in the overall scheme of things look like something tangible and recognisable.
“How the fuck do they choose what to draw?” I say.
“Lots of things. Partly they paint what’s popular, like myths and legends or religious scenes, landscapes and such. Partly what pays the bills, like portraits. Partly just artistic expression I guess,” she says as we continue to slowly walk down the first hall. “Look, there are a few main themes that have always been popular: religion, Greeks and Romans, landscapes and naked women.”
“Things never change, eh?” I grin at her.
“Men never change,” she corrects me with a laugh.
Well, what can I say. I see her in my mind again, half naked in the soft lamp light. More beautiful than any painting. Real and so close. So fucking close.
“Why would we?” I say. “What’s not to love about the fucking Greeks?”
She rolls her eyes in that pretty way that says ‘You’re a smart ass but you make me laugh so I’ll let it slide’.
We pass a whole lot of paintings of dead Italians, a lot of saints I ain’t ever heard of, a lot of Dutch canals and then we stop by this huge motherfucker of a painting. Way bigger than life size.
“Thought you’d like this one,” she says as I look it up and down. These three Romans being handed swords and it looks like they’re basically saying we’ll win or fuckin’ die trying. I don’t know what they’re going to go fight about but shit looks serious. Not something I’d hang in my own house but I gotta admit, the scale is impressive. I wouldn’t necessarily say I like it, but it’s a nice change after all these fucking frilly little shepherds seducing sleeping shepherdesses.
“This kind of thing was very popular two hundred years ago,” she says, standing next to me, looking up with me. “It’s striking, isn’t it? The sheer size of it…I always wonder what’s going through their minds when I see it,” she says.
“They ain’t thinking,” I say. I can feel her gaze at me, curious. But I know that hard look. They’ve decided. It’s pure determination. “They’re not thinking,” I repeat. “They already know it’s either victory or death. There ain’t nothing else to think about.”
She looks at me silently, as if trying to figure something out.
“Yes, but they had no other choice,” she says, as if reminding me of something important, pulling me away from my usual mindset. “We’re not in ancient Rome anymore.”
I don’t want to be called out like this. I don’t want to think fucking logically. I’ve been nursing this anger far too long to let it go now.
“So, where are these naked women you keep telling me about,” I say, giving her my most insolent grin, veering away from the topic.
“Right there,” she says, pointing a couple of paintings up ahead. And well, fuck me. There it is. She wasn’t fuckin’ kidding.
“Thought that back then people were supposed to be, you know…more…” I try to find the word.
“Prudish?” she suggests.
“Somethin’ like that,” I say.
“No, no, it was fine to paint naked women, but only if you showed them as some sort of goddess or mythological creature, and also doing this,” she makes this delicate pose with her arm slightly covering her breasts, her other hand close to her hip. “See, if they look like they’re kind of trying to cover themselves, it’s ok.”
I can hear the joking sarcasm in her voice.
“It got more explicit as time went on,” she points up ahead to a painting of a very pale woman lounging in bed, “but maybe you’re too young to see that,” she jokes and hugs me from behind, her hands over my eyes.
And right now, I don’t care much for any painting of any naked woman. Because she’s here, and so fucking close to me, her hands on my face again. I’ve seen you, I think. I’ve seen you almost just like that. It’s too late. It’s too fuckin’ late for me. I don’t have any desire to see any paintings. Only her. To see her like that again, but not be separated by two panes of glass, a whole street. To see her like that in my own room, feel these hands on me, not because I’m sick or fuckin’ wounded but because she wants me, just as much as I fuckin’ want her. I don’t want her to let go. But of course it never lasts.
She says she wants to stop at the gift shop, and who am I to say no. I wait around, not particularly interested in anything there, still lost in my fantasies, growing more and more explicit by the fuckin’ minute.
“Here,” she says, coming up to me, having bought whatever it was she wanted. She hands me a postcard with that Roman painting on it. “It’s the one you liked,” she says, smiling but there’s something shy about it. “I just wanted to say thank you for coming with me.”
I would go anywhere for you, darlin’.
And then it hits me, it’s not just shy. It’s grateful. Like she didn’t think I’d come. Like she dared not hope.
I remember the banter with her brother, when she said she didn’t think anyone would want to go do something like that with her. I realise, for her, this was taking a gamble. To share something you enjoy with someone. It’s always a self-conscious risk. To be fuckin’ honest, my heart fucking breaks just a little bit. I ain’t ever realised she might’ve felt like this. But then again…that conversation on the pier…’Do you ever feel lonely?’
And I realise, I do. I fuckin’ do.
“I-” I’m not sure what I want to say but she cuts me off anyway, wanting to not linger on this topic that brings our self-consciousness, hers and mine, to the fore.
“And thank you for not complaining,” she laughs. “Come on, do you want to go get something to eat? It’s getting pretty late. I’m buying, making it up to you for dragging you around for so long.”
“No,” I say. “I’m buyin’, for dragging me out of the house and making me just a bit more fuckin’ civilised,” I grin.
“Little savage,” she says, and runs her hand through my hair affectionately, and it takes all my willpower to not completely come fucking undone then and there.
It fucking pours just around the time I get off work on Monday and walking through this is fucking hassle. I ain’t that far from home but I ain’t in a rush and just don’t feel like going through the goddamn rain today. So I wait around for the worst of it to pass, kicking the proverbial can. I see there’s a sign on the wall saying No Loitering but they’ll just have to fucking get over it because I ain’t budging until this shit passes. I'll loiter till my heart's content.
Ten minutes later it seems to ease up and I make my way home, hurrying before it comes back, the sky looking darker and more ominous with every passing moment. There will be no golden hour today, smothered by these storm clouds.
I feel it start again, drops on the back of my neck and keep my head down so that I almost don’t notice her, sitting on her doorstep, drenched to the bone in her office outfit, thin coat clinging to her as she shelters under the small awning of her front door.
The rain gets a bit harder as I go over there.
“What happened?” I say.
“I locked myself out,” she says, looking up at me, hair sticking to her cheeks. “It’s so stupid. We were having this early meeting today and I just ran out and I didn’t realise I left the keys until I got home and fuck…”
She’s shivering and I just want to peel all those wet clothes off her and stand under a hot shower, pressing her naked body against me until she’s hot, I’m hot, until-
“I called my landlord,” she continues as we can hear the rain on the street now, “but no one’s picking up. I left a message so hopefully she’ll get back to me soon. I don’t want to pay for someone to come out and do the locks. That’s going to cost a fortune!”
“Come on,” I say, holding out my hand. “Come over.”
She looks up at me, and slides her little hand into mine and we run across the street.
“You’re freezin’,” I say, once we get inside. She takes off her coat and her white shirt is just as soaked underneath. It clings and moulds to her body, her breasts, transparent and sensual, and if it wasn’t for the dropping temperature I’d like to stare at her just a bit longer. But the priority now is to get her warm.
“It’s not that bad,” she says, through almost chattering teeth.
“You ain’t gettin’ sick now,” I say, ignoring her, as I go to grab a clean towel. “They ain’t as nice as your ones,” I say handing it to her, “but it’s better than nothin’.”
She waits for a moment, deciding, before coming to the conclusion that a warm shower would indeed be the best choice right now and takes it from me.
“Thanks,” she says and heads over to the bathroom.
I hear the water turn on and all I can think about is how she’s naked right now in my house, in my bathroom, just a door away. Is this a fucking dream? In my mind I see her white shirt, almost seethrough against her skin again. The lace of her lingerie showing through. The outline of her nipples under the wet fabric. And even though I’ve already seen her naked, seen what she looks like under all that, the sight of it still gets to me, begins to fucking torture me.
I hear the water run in the bathroom and all I can think about is her hard pretty little nipples under her shirt. This is not fucking good I think as I feel it get the better of me, my body so used to responding so quick and so hard to these thoughts. But this time it ain’t a fantasy. She was really right there in front of me, wet and beautiful and trembling.
Fuck. Not fucking now. She’s gonna be done any minute. God fucking damn. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? If I was alone I know exactly what I’d do to relieve this personal tension…
Her wet hair, soaking clothes…
No. Fuck. Stop.
Wait.
Her soaking clothes. Shit. What’s the point of having a hot shower if she ain’t got nothing dry to put on after? I jump up and rifle through my drawers, my closet. None of this shit is going to fit her. Fuck. What’s the best I got?
I hear the water turn off and knock on the door.
“Oi,” I say, finally able to calm my excitement down just in time, “I got some things for you.”
The door opens just a crack and I can see a flash of her soft thighs, a strip of white towel covering the rest as she peeks through the gap.
“Are you sure?” she says.
I can’t believe this woman. For some reason, it’s perfectly fine and fuckin’ dandy to cook for me and hand me towels and look after me when I’m sick but accepting the same herself is fucking impossible. Like I’m doing too much when all I got to offer is a shitty threadbare towel and turning the heat up to the max.
“Just…take it,” I say.
She reaches out her bare hand and grabs the clothes, giving me a quick smile and closes the door again.
“I’ll just hang these up here, ok?” She says as she comes through the living room and then to the table, draping her rain-stained shirt and skirt over the back of two of the chairs. “This brings back memories,” she says, holding her hand up to her mouth as she laughs.
She’s wearing my old PE uniform and the smallest sweatshirt I could find. It looks too big and at the same time fucking adorable. “I’m sure this uniform got a lot more use than my one,” she says.
“Good or bad?” I ask.
“What?”
“Memories. Good or bad?”
“Oh…neutral I guess,” she shrugs. “PE wasn’t really my scene. It’s been so long though now so…”
“Not that long,” I say. “You always make it sound like you’re a fuckin’ century older than me,” I tease.
She thinks for a moment.
“You’re right,” she says, sitting down on the old couch. “It wasn’t that long ago in the grand scheme of things. I guess it feels like it with work and all that. I still feel like I’m your age a lot of the time to be honest. Sometimes I even dream I’m back in high school,” she says. “I’m back there, in uniform, and suddenly I realise, what the fuck am I doing here? It’s strange. Wait, I'm just going to call my landlord again," she says and goes out for a moment.
I hope there's no answer. I hope there is no spare key. I want her to stay the night. Again. But this time I won't be fucking delirious. I want her to fall asleep with me again. I don't know how I'd make it happen but I fucking want it. Maybe selfish but fuck…I want her here.
"No answer again," she says, getting a little frustrated and a little impatient as she comes back. "I left another message. Anyway, what do you want for dinner?”
“Eh? That's my line.” She's my guest for once so.
“I feel kind of bad for someone having to come and deliver in this rain,” she says, as she looks outside into the black evening.
“I don’t,” I say. “I’m fucking starving.”
“What about Mexican?” She says suddenly, full of excitement. “I don’t think we’ve had that before!”
As long as it’s edible I don’t give a fuck. Your wish is my command.
She gets her phone out and starts typing.
“Delilah!” She calls after dinner but there’s no response. “Delilah!” She tries again.
“She’s probably upstairs, starin’ out the window,” I say. She’s been doing that a lot lately. Sitting on my windowsill, watching the world go by, as if antsy to get out there herself.
“Hmm,” she says, “we should probably let her outside soon. I mean, she is a cat. She’ll want to go explore and hunt.”
She gets up and makes her way upstairs and I follow.
She turns the light on in my room and sure enough, the cat’s there, just where I said she’d be.
“There you are!” she says, always so happy to see her.
Delilah meows and walks over the table.
She sees her book, the postcard she got me sticking out of it, my new bookmark. I don’t know why. But I find myself opening that book often, and then I see the postcard, and even if the picture on it ain’t exactly romantic, it reminds me of her, that she’d thought of me when she picked it out, and fuck it sounds sentimental but there it is.
She pets Delilah and picks up A Hero Of Our Time.
“You’re reading it,” she says beaming at me.
“Yeah,” I say, somewhat uncomfortable and I don’t know why. I know that’s why she gave it to me but I also feel like maybe I ain’t supposed to. Like it’s too good for me. Or something fucking stupid like that.
“Do you like it?” She says.
“It’s…interestin’,” I say.
“I’ll take it!” She laughs as she lightly flips through the pages, being careful to not disturb my bookmark.
She suddenly turns to me.
“Read it to me,” she says softly.
“Eh?” I’m suddenly confused. “You mean, read it…as in, out loud?”
“Unless you’ve forgotten how to read,” she winks at me, holdin the book out.
I don’t know…That’s…
“Ah,” she says, retracting her suggestion. “Sorry. That was silly. I just like this one. I like how ironic the whole thing is. The guy is such a piece of shit but everyone refuses to see it. It’s been a while since I’ve read it. It’s ok.”
I remember her saying to her brother, being exhausted after work. I look at her, at all the tiredness she’s hiding under that smile. Fuck my self-consciousness. Fuck my pride. I take the book out of her hand.
“Where from?” I say.
She looks back at me surprised.
“Doesn’t matter. Wherever you stopped. I know the gist of the story.”
And so we sit in bed, her next to me, her shoulder pressed against mine. Delilah sits in her lap and purrs as she strokes her back and I read. I ain’t doing any voices or whatever and I think it must be boring as fuck to her, but when I look over she’s got her eyes closed and she looks relaxed, happy so I don’t stop.
I get to the end where the main protagonist, this so-called hero, kills his friend in a duel. He met his friend, decided he doesn’t particularly fuckin’ like him that much after all and so decides to seduce his woman for shits and giggles. His friend understandly gets fucking pissed and challenges him to a duel and gets killed. And this hero more or less walks away from the whole thing with a shrug. It’s fucking cold.
I can’t fucking stand this asshole. But at the same time…at the same time…I see myself in him. Partly. He doesn’t fit in. He doesn’t care what other people think of him. Unlike me, he is almost universally loved, but he doesn’t care, living for his own banal amusement. He has no connections with people. And neither do I. He walks away from this fight like it’s nothing. I think of myself at the end of a good fight. I give almost no thought to the bastards I leave behind. Because they deserve it. I think all this and I don’t like it. I don’t even realise I stopped reading. Just staring at the opposite wall.
“What is it?” she says, her voice gentle and quiet.
“He’s a fucking asshole,” I say, the book still open.
“Yes, he is,” she agrees.
“Why the fuck does everyone love him then? Why the fuck do the worst fucking bastards get treated like fucking royalty while they walk over everyone?”
She looks at me, somewhat concerned but all I can feel is the fucking rage building inside.
“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “I wonder the same thing sometimes. I think it’s because they don’t care. Because they’re confident. And people are drawn to that.”
But that’s not the thing that’s firing me up most and she can tell.
We sit in tense silence for a moment.
“I’m like him,” I say finally, my jaw aching.
“No-” she starts.
“I’m fucking just like him,” I say and it’s getting harder to control the fury, the heat in my chest, the tense violence building, trying to escape my body.
I’m fucked up and care for fucking no one. I can’t fucking afford to. I’ve missed all my fucking chances and all I got left now is fucking others over, thinking of nothing but my pride. All I got left now is fucking nothing and-
“You’re not,” she says, sitting up, turning to me, Delilah jumping off her lap. “Garou, you’re not. This man, he has no empathy. He hasn’t cared for anyone his whole life. Everything has been handed to him on a silver platter. He doesn’t understand people’s joy or grief or despair. He treats other people as entertainment and he’s never had a difficult day in his life. He’s never had to fight for himself or for others. You, no matter how blind you are to it, are good. You do fucked up things, and you run from the idea, and I don't know why, but you’re good. I don’t know who told you otherwise, and I wish I could beat the shit out of them, but you’re not like that. You're good.” Her hand reaches out and lightly touches my chest.
Why did I run from it? I don't fucking know. Because it felt like a lie. Someone like me couldn't possibly be good. I didn't want to be good. I wanted to be feared. Feared was better than being mocked or pitied. Even if it came at a price. I could not be fucking good and feared at the same time. And I had chosen feared. That was the only way to survive in this world. If you weren't feared, you'd always be a fuckin’ target. That's what I'd always thought. It was too late for me to be good. And I hated hearing it. Because it was no longer possible. And to be honest, that fact stung.
Do I believe I'm good now? No, not particularly. Even though she tries to convince me otherwise. I don't see what the fuck is so good about me. She keeps listing things, but they're never things I do on purpose. And ain't you supposed to do good things consciously? And every time I say no, I ain’t any good. She always has an ace up her sleeve. Always something I can't fight. When I get so fucking stubborn again, insisting I'm no fucking good, she just quietly, softly asks "Do you love me?" And of course she knows the answer. She knows it but I can't not answer her. Yes. I never thought I'd see the day. But I love you. I love you more than fucking life itself. "Yes," I say, never being any fucking good with expressive words that's all I can manage, and she holds my face and says "Thank you", her eyes looking up at me, like she needs me, like I'm an important part of her world. And it fucking rips at my heart. Who wouldn't love you? I think. Why are you thanking me? You could have anyone, and yet you want me. "You are good," she'll repeat, kissing my forehead or pulling me into herself. "You are good for me."
She holds my gaze as she says all these things, each word at once soothing and achingly painful. I don’t know if I want to believe her. I don’t know if I fucking can. I ain’t got no one to blame but myself. For not being stronger, for not being fucking smarter, for letting them walk all over me, for expecting someone to help. I’m still paying for it. I am always paying for it. And the price is fucking high and just keeps on rising. I-
“Ow!” she suddenly turns her neck, pulling her hand away. “Damn,” she says as she rubs a spot on her back, just between her neck and her shoulder, a bit further down. “Sorry, it just keeps aching here,” she winces, sliding her fingers deeper under my t-shirt she’s wearing, lower. “I’m just chained to my laptop all day these last two weeks and…ahh…fuck!” She tries to stretch it out, turning away from me, leaning her head to the right, her hair falling over her shoulder.
I know that. I know that pain. Deep in your muscle.
I put the book down.
“Here?” I say, my hand over hers.
“Yeah,” she sighs painfully as she pulls her hand out.
I move closer. “How bad?” I ask from behind, pressing softly.
“Kinda really bad,” she says as Delilah comes back into her lap. “But also kinda good when you do that.”
She pulls the jumper, the t-shirt a bit off her shoulder, exposing her skin and I can’t help it, slide my hand into the fabric, coming back to the place it hurts but now on her naked skin.
“Yep,” she almost gasps, “right there. Don’t hold back! It hurts but feels really good after.”
I press harder, feeling her bare skin in my hands for the first time. I can’t see her face, but she makes these little sounds, a mix of pain and pleasure that my body follows, reacts to in an intense way, holding her hair out of the way.
And I can’t take it anymore. I can’t stop it. She’s so close, so warm, her scent, the feel of her body under my fingers, under my hand.
I can’t fight it anymore. I've fought many things in my life but this is a fight I know I'm gonna fuckin’ lose. This feeling takes over. It’s animal, a hunger, a pure instinct but also…quiet, patient. I can take this as slow as she wants, but I can’t hold it back any fucking longer.
All those images light up my mind, her naked in the window, her breasts, soaking wet, hard pretty nipples right there, thighs barely covered by my shitty towel…
Her back, her neck are just inches away. And I’m almost there, tasting her skin. I remember the feel of her hands on my face, on my body, I remember waking up next to her. And now this is reality. She's right here. Right in front of me. Her body pulling me closer. I feel my breathing slow down, quiet, almost as if I don't want to disturb the moment. I feel like something inside me is finally going to break apart. She's about to set somethin' loose inside me, insatiable, wanting. She holds her hair out of the way and I’m going to kiss her neck, slide my hands around her waist, up her body, kiss her skin, this place that’s painful until it’s-
Her phone rings and she almost jumps off the bed in surprise and runs out of the room.
The spare key is finally coming.
And I’m left with nothing but frustrated desire, too many memories and too many moments, the feel of her literally slipping out of my hands, threatening to finally tear me apart.
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comicallylargemango · 6 months
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I'm back from da dead!!!! (I never had alot of followers anyway) anyway have a garou x reader songfic. Okay BYEIEY ‼️‼️‼️
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Pairing: Garou[OPM] X Reader
Type: songfic, Fluff
Warning: KISSING YUCKIE EWIE POOWIE/J angst, stealing, swearing,
I wanna be your boyfriend,
I wanna be your boyfriend,
I wanna be your boyfriend,
I wanna be your boyfriend,
For as long as garou could remember, he liked you, Alot. When it happened, he couldn't quite remember that. Whether it was when you defended him when Tacchan forced him to play monster again.
Or when you completely supported his decision to drop out of school to join a dojo, going as far as to cheer him on during his fights and visit him, and bring him lunch everyday.
-Ooh I'm inlove, it's a mystery.
He pushed you and his feelings away, but that never stopped you from ever so slowly making his way through his labyrinth of a heart.
He didn't understand why you'd stay with him, after all he did nothing but push you away and call you mean names, and say things he didn't mean.
-When I see you out at night, I start to get di-i-izzy.
When he saw you approaching, no screw that, when he saw you practically running towards him with a medkit it hand in the dead of night. He nearly felt his heart stop.
As you tenderly cleaned and stitched up his wounds he could slowly feel the after effects of the fight hitting him, but all he could think about was your hands ever so gently fixing him up, despite him already being a well known monster.
-Before I see you I pick out some things to say,
He didn't know why, why he'd put on a mean and harsh facade. All he wanted to do was shower you in all the affections he felt, to repay you for all you had done for him.
But he was already in too deep, afraid you'd somehow find out about his feelings and actually leave him. He said it all the time but he never actually wanted you to leave.
-don't wanna sound foolish and waste my chance away.
Garou always wanted to impress you, whether he knew it or not. He never shouted snarky and witty remarks during his duels. but when you were watching, suddenly he was this incredible capable and confident. Throwing witty and teasing remarks everywhere.
This habit even carried on through his hero hunter arc. He told himself it was just the adrenaline rush and his pride getting to his brain, but deep down he knew it was because of you.
-Oh, I'm not gonna make the same mistake, I'm not gonna ru-u-un.
Back then, one day. You were getting picked on by tacchan's girlfriends. All because you were defending him, he couldn't take it. No, he couldn't allow it.
He ran Infront of you and screamed profanities at the poor girl, she slowly stepped back shocked and eyes threatening to spill tears. He knew he'd get in trouble, he knew it wouldn't stop. But he couldn't give a fuck at that moment, he was seeing red. No one talks to you that way. After all, you did nothing wrong.
-Just pick the boy you like.
Due to being at the dojo so frequently, you'd gained popularity quickly, being the only girl there and all. All the other students immediately swarmed you after hearing you announced your arrival.
"Garou! I'm here!" You screamed his name, holding his lunch in hand. Just hearing his name come from you was music to his ears.
But before he could even reply everyone was already surrounding you, asking what you brought and making remarks such as "Garou is so lucky, you're way outta his league." Now that was more like utensils scraping across the plate.
- I've got my hopes up..!
But despite all that, he still hoped you felt the same.
I wanna be your boyfriend,
-I wanna be your boyfriend,
Once during third grade, he had an assignment to write whatever he wanted to be when he grew up. He didn't know, until he saw your face. He knew that..
He wanted to be with you, monster or not.
I wanna go on walks with you,
- I wanna have long talks with you,
Despite him knowing you could handle whatever you needed to do yourself, he still insisted on walking you home. he wanted to talk to you, listen to your voice, get lost in thought admiring your face. He was content with this surreal moment, content with e calm bliss you two were surrounded in.
You can be my girlfriend.!
-You can be my girlfriend.!
He wrote a ton of letters for you, most, actually no, all of them never to see the light of day again. He never deemed them good enough for you, whether it was his ugly handwriting, or it being too cheesy, too long, too short, too bland, too passionate. Or because he never finished it. Writing was never his strong suit. But for you he'd do anything.
I'll compliment you frequently,
-I wanna treat you decently,
He'd be lying if he said he never fantasized about telling you how he felt, showering you in sweet compliments, looking at your flushed face.
He'd also be lying if he said he never wanted to repay you, since he never asked you to. Is what he told himself. All he wanted to do put his hand on the small of your back to guide you through the fancy restaurant he asked you out on a date to.
La-La-La-La-La-La
La-La-La-La-La-La
La-La-La-La-La-La
-La-La-La-La-La-La
He woke up from his little daydream when you promptly waved your hand in front of his face.
"hellooow? Garouuuu?" He didn't even realise you were finished tending to his wounds during his day dream.
"What?" He replied coldly, though all he wanted to do was treat you with all the warmth of the sun tenfold.
"I saaiid, watcha thinkin about?" You leaned in closer to his face, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You were staring, too."
"ion know what you're on about." He looked away, embarrassed about being caught.
You merely smirked teasingly, as you ruffled his hair. A habit you have had ever since he let you touch his hair.
"my little tsundere."
Ooh you're the man, it's impossible.
When I see you out at night, all the guys are -crowded around.
He had a rose in hand, making sure his usually unruly hair was kept in place, making sure he looked presentable for you. Once he even let one hint about his secret crush on you while talking to bang, he immediately pressured Garou to confess. Even going as far as to slick his hair back and putting garou in a little tuxedo with a rose and a note.
If he said he felt confident, that was a lie. He was a nervous wreck. Hands clammy and sweaty around the thornless rose. Any ounce of confidence was buried deep underground as soon as he saw you surrounded by men ten times more handsome and charismatic than him. He sighed in defeat and let his head hang in sadness.
They're tellin you the same things that I plan to say.
- I thought I was unique, maybe I'm not that way.
He watched as they showered you in compliments the same way he wanted to do, he thought everyone was different, including himself. But after seeing people better dressed than him, he knew it wasn't the case. As he dejectedly made his way back to bangs dojo.
Unaware to your voice calling for him in the crowd.
I wanna be your boyfriend,
I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend!
I wanna be your boyfriend,
-I wanna be your boyfriend.
This incident only gave him more of a reason to train harder, to set himself apart from other people just so he could stand a chance. Bang noticed this, sighing to himself as he saw you and Garou talking. He even noticed the lovesick smile you gave him, it was so obvious he couldn't help but smile to himself. But he wouldn't say anything about it yet, since it did give Garou more willingness to train.
I wanna go on walks with you,
I wanna have long talks with you.
I'll compliment you frequently.
-I wanna treat you decently.
Garou was getting braver each day, flirty remarks flying left and right and over your head. His eyes lingered on your lips longer than usual, if he wasn't being obvious before he sure was now.
Soon enough he had to fight the overwhelming urge to cup your cheeks and grope your ass kiss you, Whenever he was with you.
You can be my girlfriend!
-You can be my girlfriend!
Garou knew it wouldn't last forever, he was the hero hunter after all. You'd have to leave whether he liked it or not, for your own safety.
But it seemed like all you wanted to do was defy the inevitable. No matter how much danger you put yourself in by acquainting yourself with him, you never left.
If you were so willing to stay, why not just go for it..?
-La-La-La-La-La-La.
He went out at the Asscrack of dawn looking for something to get you. He walked through the (now empty) street, most people hiding in alleyways to avoid his wrath. Not like he'd attack them, they weren't even heroes.
That was when he saw an unsuspecting victim, walking out of the jewelry store with a pretty little box wrapped in a ribbon in your favourite colour. He knew he couldn't afford it, hell he was just mooching off of you, so he resorted to the next best thing.
Steal it.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Garou ran as fast as he could, trying to lose the police in a maze of alleyways. With a smug smirk on his face as he held the box in his hand. Looking back to check if the police were still chasing him. They were not.
He leaned against the wall catching his breath as he examined the contents of the box. A neat silver locket, he smiled at the thought of you putting a picture of him and you inside. He woke back up to reality when he heard the shouting and the footsteps of the cops.
La-La-La-La-La-La.
"Garou?" You asked worriedly, seeing his panting and sweaty form. When he finally regained composure, he managed to form a sentence between panting.
"I- hah- got this f- houh for you.." he smiled proudly, holding out the box.
Your eyes widened, the tips of your ears turning a satisfying shade of pink. He felt his ego grow at your dazed expression, he couldn't help but fall a little bit more in love with you.
"i- you shouldn't have." You smiled when you found out what was in the box, you looked back at him to see his chest puffed out proudly. The sight was so endearing you couldn't help but chuckle.
La-La-La-La-La-La.
"hah- so- wha-ddya think?" He wheezed out.
"it's... Beautiful, thanks, Garou." You felt your cheeks getting warmer.
"i- have somethin- ta ask ya." He finally- fully regained composure. Somehow Even more sweaty than before, he felt the warmth creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks.
Your expression mirrored his own, as you let your mind think of all the possibilities.
Garou looked away bashfully, even more red as he tried to find the courage to speak.
La-La-La-La-La-La .
Garou finally opened his mouth to speak, but barely anything came out, "i-i" his mind ran blank when he finally looked back at you, your flushed expression making his heart beat faster.
"I wanted to say..?" His statement sounding more like a question. You looked at him expectantly.
"that you like me?" You finished for him, the shocked look on his face was priceless. His face even redder.
"I-" he stammered. "Yes..." Suddenly the ground seemed intriguing as he averted his gaze to it. Before you could even add a remark on his adorable behaviour, you felt a pair of hands at your waist, pulling you closer to garou.
You were too tongue tied at the sudden display of affection, you could barely hear his question above a whisper.
"so.. what do you think..?" He looked at your face anxiously looking for any sign you might feel the same. The nervousness only growing when you didn't answer.
He was about to let go of your waist when he suddenly felt hands cupping his cheeks and tilting his head ever so slightly, pulling him closer and closer to your face.
Eyes closed while his was wide open in shock, when he felt your lips against his he nearly melted, he gulped before fully reciprocating the kiss. Soon his hands pulled even closer, chest touching and heart full.
The kiss wasn't passionate or rough, it was gentle and loving, he wanted to go straight into rough and breathless but he didn't want to scare you away.
After what felt like hours that were only minutes. you pulled away, watching as he leaned in closer as if to chase your lips. He pouted, you laughed through your nose at his antics. After all this. You only had one question left.
La-La-La-La-La-La.
"where did you get that locket?"
La-La-La-La-La-La..
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AYAY ITS DONE YAY GAROU IS SO PRETTY
Ggdgdgsgaffsggd I hope u enjoyed and stay cash money
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reikiajakoiranruohoja · 9 months
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W5: Why do I think it is bad
When W20 (Werewolf the Apocalypse 20th anniversary edition) came out, it was a joyous occasion for multiple reasons. First, it was the first proper book released for the game in 10 years. Second, it was proof that the old game still had fans who were willing to try a new edition.
And third; W20 was about hope.
From its beginning comic about rising up to fight despite the odds to the way the book offered chances to play the lost tribes, to the way the supplements followed suit in offering more options and interesting ideas to use, W20 was about going on despite the odds.
This is not the feeling one gets reading Werewolf the Apocalypse 5th edition. Despite being a reboot, the book spends pages guilt-tripping players about playing garou. There is little hope, because being a garou sucks and most importantly; The fight for Gaia might not even be real.
Now, I am not one to say no to Alternative Universes, I enjoy the concept a lot. But W5 is still a game and so needs more than a rant about how badly the garou screwed up, it needs gameplay. And the gameplay W5 offers is sitting in your caern defending your turf while the world around you burns and if you dare to take action? You might become mad and become a fascist.
I need to remind you all that the core of WtA is the fight against pollution, systematic oppression, your own ancestors and your own Rage. The horror is how impossible the fight seems, how easily you can turn on your friends and how tempting an easy way out is.
The horror in W5 is how bad your ancestors were and how terrible it is to be a garou.
Personal Horror has always been the wheelhouse of Vampire the Masquerade, as being a vampire forces you to create justifications for your actions. Werewolf is titled Feral Horror for a reason, the horror is more external than internal. Yet W5 tries to make it internal like in VtM, leaving behind all the environmental horror. Indeed, W5 is written quite clearly with purely urban characters in mind with very little focus on nature.
Anyone who is familiar with NWoD/Chronicle of Darkness should by now notice that this sounds quite a bit like Werewolf the Forsaken. This is because W5 has taken a lot from Forsaken, but without truly understanding the way these parts make Forsaken what it is.
But all of this is, as we say in the community, fluff. What about the mechanics? Surely they are at least fun?
The way Rage works in W5 is extremely punishing because Rage has its own dice that replace normal dice the more you have. If you fail with these dice, your character will destroy something. At best. Worse is that any Rage above the hilariously small maximum of 5 gives your character willpower damage. The kicker is that you cannot choose to use Rage Dice when you want to, nor can you control their use. It is all or nothing.
Rage in the previous editions of WtA was a power versus control trap. You could do amazing things with your Rage, but the more you had the easier it was to lose control and the harder it was to deal with humans. What made Rage such a clever trap, was that gaining more was often based on player action. Those seeking a fast way to power would end up being creatures with very little to no self-control.
Rage Dice are not that, they make the life of a PC hard no matter what they do and at times punish players by taking actions as werewolves.
Another mechanic that punishes and in fact has some really unfortunate implications attached to it is Hauglosk. Stated to be the opposite of Harano, Hauglosk is in reality a way for the ST to punish any player who plays in a way that the ST does not approve. Worse, Hauglosk is at one point stated to be equal to fascism.
On the fluff side, Hauglosk also serves as a way to limit what the PCs can do as the book helpfully notes it manifests in the form of absolute certainty to your cause and the want to act NOW. Since we are on Tumblr here, I should not have to note how baffling that is in a game about activism.
The way Hauglosk is written is most likely to justify the removal of a tribe from the playable roster. The Get of Fenris might have had their issues, but W5's cult of Fenris is said to be utterly lost to Hauglosk. By wanting to keep fighting the Wyrm with certainty. The sheer vitriol this book has for the Get of Fenris is to the point where some tribes do worse things than they do but are still playable. Worse, by the book itself, you can redeem a Black Spiral Dancer but not a Cult of Fenris member.
Let me repeat that; You can redeem a rapist torturer who willingly pollutes and eats humans but you CANNOT redeem a person fighting on the same side as you who is a bit more fanatic about the cause.
This push to make the tribe into essentially fascists didn't come from an edgelord writer. It came from the Brand Manager who pushed for it very hard, while doing their damnedest to take away feminism from the Black Furies and ignored suggestions from Indigenous writer about the Native American tribes. Sadly, because this person still IS the Brand Manager, Furies are no longer women-only and no tribe has ties to any human culture.
(Also, just to be clear; Paradox denied the Onyx Path developers any name changes to the Native American tribes and the only reason their names were changed in W5 is thanks to the aforementioned Indigenous writer fighting for the changes tooth and nail.)
These are only a few things that make W5 a mess, but I hope I shed some light on the issue.
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