#The Faces Little Havana
The Faces of Little Havana
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Afro-Cuban Jazz, because I say so
At risk of appearing completely mental, I’m on about Afro-Cuban jazz. Why? I was in the super dry shop yesterday, and you know how they play music so loud you’re essentially in the club, yeah? Well they played this sort of song and it was SUCH a banger I made my friend do like 20 laps of the shop just so I could listen to it the whole way through. So yeah, that sent me down the fucking rabbit hole, and I’m dragging you down with me. Now that we’ve established that I am completely mental, let’s get on with the songs.
Tito Puente: Oye Cómo Va
You’ve probably definitely heard this one before. This is the entire vibe I’m going for here, this is the life I’m leading right now, so I figured this is a good one to set the scene. It’s just so happy and cheerful, I’ve been listening to stuff like this all day and I swear I’ve had a smile on my face the whole time. But shit, this makes me want to dance man. I’m not a dancer. You know, when I was little I didn’t want to do anything that could get you famous cos I thought I would get drafted onto the show Dancing on Ice - which was my worst nightmare. Turns out, the celebrities aren’t forced to go on there. The irony of it all, of course, is that you can expect to see Tumblr user Virginia Plain on next years series.
Dizzy Gillespie: Manteca
This is dizzy Gillespie the famous jazz trumpeter, he was getting involved in this too. See, I’m giving you such a thorough education in jazz. If anything, this is more like the blind leading the blind (or even the blind leading the sighted). I’ve listened to my fair share of jazz, especially over the first lockdown, but the facts behind it is sort of where I fall short. Good thing that I have my supernatural ability to waffle on about literally anything then. You could ask me a simple question and I’ll find a way to end up droning on about different types of paper (my fave is Clairefontaine). Yes, I am on Team GB for waffling - as I have just masterfully demonstrated. Our lad Dizzy on the other hand masterfully demonstrates how to play the trumpet - and how to do Afro-Cuban jazz, this ones a classic. Love love love.
Eddie Palmieri: Cafe
Ugh, this song. I close my eyes and I’ve got such a clear image. Some pretty little cafe in Havana, all the colours and this nice music and dancing the night away. Such a nice thought. One day. You know what else vibes this stuff gives me? Nando’s. When you’re out for a cheeky Nando’s with the lads this is the type of stuff they play to really nail this whole atmosphere. This songs got everything that’s making me so obsessive right now. It’s the fun rhythms on the drums we had to do about in music at school which I did not pay attention to at all, it’s the trumpet, it’s that crazy piano. I’m just lapping it all up it’s so fun to listen to.
Willie Bobo: Roots
Talking of roots, Afro-Cuban jazz is the earliest form of Latin Jazz (theres my actual fact for the day). The vibes continue to flow, don’t they? It’s got all the same shit going on, but I just can’t get enough of it right now. Polyrhythms. That’s a word I remember from music. Does it apply here? Possibly. Ostinato. That’s where the different parts take turns in happening. I sort of wish I paid more attention in music cos looking back it sounds interesting. But the uncultured swine that I was back in year 9 didn’t give a fuck about Latin jazz and was waiting for the unit on synthpop, which of course never came.
Fela Kuti: Upside Down
Here’s the song that started my frantic ramble through Afro-Cuban jazz and... it’s not Afro-Cuban Jazz. It’s similar-ish though, it’s Afrobeat. One of my mates is proper into Afrobeat, I should ask him for more of the scoop. Picture the scene, me trying to act interested in the clothes for 14 minutes while this song is playing so I don’t get kicked out for loitering. That’s what cool people do on their weekends. I managed to track this down to show to you, that’s how committed I am. Up there for thinking, down there for dancing. That’s what we always say. So yeah, a bit of confusion on my part lead me to get involved with Afro-Cuban jazz, even though it was actually Afrobeat that set me off. Oopsies.
In case you were wondering: I didn’t buy anything in superdry, but I think we can all agree I left that shop with something far better than a jumper. You know what? I can’t wait for tomorrow cos walking to college listening to this is going to be so good. It’s meant to rain, but still. When I rock up to physics looking like a drowned rat, at least I’ll be in a good mood from listening to these bangers. Thanks for reading, stay cool and I’ll talk to you soon :)
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All for Us Chapter 2
Hey beautiful people! I’m starting All For Us a week earlier than I had planned. Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything, and check out my masterlist to read my other Black Panther fics. I hope y’all enjoy!
Word count: 4349
Over the last couple of years, Mira had discovered a love of music that she hadn’t quite felt before. Music became her solace on the days when he was all she could think about, and on her good days, it made her soar even higher. She had come to collect vinyl because “Spotify ain’t forever,” so she had all her favorite albums, old and new, for posterity’s sake. They weren’t just collector’s items, though. Mira played the hell out of her records, making it a point not to let a day pass without listening to at least one. It was a dreary Sunday in Atlanta, so she decided to liven up the house with Jidenna’s translucent orange “85 to Africa” album while she cooked dinner. She danced around the island, rapping along to the titular song as she shook the paper bag full of flour, cornmeal, and spices, making sure they were mixed up just right.
All week, she had been fighting a craving for fried fish, spaghetti, and greens, so she finally decided to give in and make some herself since her favorite fried fish place was closed on Sundays. She coated the catfish in the breading and dropped it into the hot skillet, ignoring the way it popped back onto her skin.
Her baby blue faux fur slides thankfully stayed glued to her feet as she slid across the floor, ass shaking to the music. She loved when Stefan and his family would go visit Havana’s parents in New York. The house was big enough for all of them to live together comfortably, but Mira enjoyed it when it was just her and Imani at home alone because it reminded her of how things used to be before Erik left. She still thought of him often, and she still wore her ring on a chain around her neck. Imani no longer asked when her daddy was coming home, but Mira made sure she never forgot him. There was a picture on Imani’s bedroom wall of the moment Erik let go of her hand, and she took her first steps. She was thankful to have captured the look of pride and pure joy on his face; it was one of the few pictures she had of him smiling. Every now and then, Mira would catch the tail end of a conversation Imani was having with her daddy’s picture. It never failed to bring tears to her eyes, and she always sent up a prayer to whatever deity would listen that his soul was resting peacefully somewhere. When Imani was younger and used to ask where he went, Mira told her the same thing her parents told her when she was ten and her aunt died.
“He’s gone, baby. You know how grandpa went to sleep and never woke up?”
“Mhm,” Imani nodded her little head.
“That’s what happened to your daddy, but he’s always with you. He’s your guardian angel.”
Mira was sure Erik was dead; she could feel it in her bones. She had seen the King of Wakanda on the news announcing an Outreach Center in Erik’s hometown, and she just knew it had to be in his honor. Then they opened their doors to the outside and started a Lost Tribe initiative to help the diaspora. She knew it was because of Erik, but she couldn't tell you why. She just knew.
The song switched up as she twirled from one side of the kitchen to the other. She moved the greens to the back burner and started boiling water for the spaghetti. Mira vibed out for a few songs as she glided around the kitchen, making the whole house smell like a Friday fish fry. The windows were open, and the incense was burning, but the scent still slightly lingered. Right as she laid the last piece of catfish on the paper towels to drain, the doorbell rang. She quickly stirred the spaghetti sauce to make sure everything was good, then wiped her hands on a dishtowel before throwing it over her shoulder and making her way to the door.
When she took a look through the peephole, she could’ve sworn she heard her record scratch. Her trembling hands struggled to unlock the door, but she managed to get it open and stood face to face with the King of Wakanda and the same two gorgeous bald women she had seen with him on tv.
A warm smile crept up his face, and his shoulders seemed to relax a little bit with relief. “Hello, Samira, I am-”
“I know who you are. Come in,” she said as she moved out of the way for the three of them to enter. “Sorry for the smell. I was frying fish.”
“It is not a problem. In fact, it smells like you are an excellent cook.”
“Thanks. Um, have a seat here on the couch if you like. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you.”
“Ok,” she fiddled with her fingers, too scared to ask what she wanted to know but too curious not to. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Her head tilted to the side, unsure if she heard him correctly.
“He is, essentially, in a medically-induced coma in Wakanda.”
A heartwrenching sob crawled its way up Mira’s throat and burst forth as the king spoke. Tears poured from her eyes as she steadied herself against the couch and covered her mouth, trying to keep her wails in. The three Wakandans all fought tears as the king went over and put his arm around her. She turned and cried into him for what felt like hours but couldn’t have actually been more than a couple of minutes. Ayo reached for Okoye’s hand and gave it a squeeze, and the general sent her a tiny smile in return as Mira’s head lifted from the king’s shoulder.
“So, what happened?” she asked between hiccups. “Why is he in a coma?”
“How much do you know about his background?” T’Challa led Mira to the couch and took a seat next to her.
“Um, all of it. He told me your dad killed his dad when he was a kid and that he found the body.”
“Yes, and what happened after that? His files have been completely wiped clean. That’s why it took so long to find you. I kept looking because I knew there had to be at least one person out there that cared for him. It didn’t feel right for me to make decisions on his care as next of kin. You are his wife, so I was hoping after this we can discuss his treatment options.”
“Ok...um, what do you want to know?”
“What happened to his mother?”
“Her name was Joy. She died in jail under mysterious circumstances. She had been a pretty vocal activist in the community, so when she got arrested at a protest, the police claimed she had drugs on her...Erik never saw her again.”
“So where did he go after my uncle died- was killed.” T’Challa was obviously still coming to terms with what happened. Saying the words still visibly pained him, but Mira could feel his sincerity. He was trying. Had anyone else shown up on her doorstep unannounced like this, she probably would have reacted very differently, but something about T’Challa felt comfortable. He felt like family.
“He went to go live with his aunt, but that only lasted about a year before she died in a drive-by. She was his only living relative, so without her, he got put into the system. He bounced around from house to house, hung with the wrong crew, was always in some sort of trouble, but he was always brilliant. Did you know he graduated from Annapolis at nineteen? Nineteen! We met at MIT...he was my best friend,” her voice trailed off as she got lost in her memories. Mira came out of her daze when she realized the room was silent. She shook her head and went to flip over the record. “So...how did he end up in a coma?”
She leaned back into the couch between T’Challa and Okoye, and he pulled her hand into his.
“I stabbed him in battle, but we have healed him...he did not want us to.”
“No, he wished for a burial at sea. He feared we would put him behind bars otherwise. That is not my intention.”
“Then what will you do to him?”
“That is for you to decide, but-”
“Mommy!” Imani came rushing down the stairs.
“Is dinner ready yet?”
T’Challa chuckled, “I did not mean to intrude. We will come back some other time.”
“No, please stay. Now I know why I felt the need to make more than the two of us could eat. I guess it was just the Ancestors telling me family was coming over.”
“Indeed,” T’Challa beamed at her before his gaze fell to the adorable, hungry little girl that had come downstairs. He couldn’t help but notice she looked exactly like her father in afro puffs.
“Babygirl, this is your big cousin T’Challa. Can you introduce yourself?”
Imani waved at the king and flashed him a snaggletoothed smile, “Hi T’Lala, I’m Imani Stevens.”
Okoye and Ayo fought chuckles at her mispronunciation, but T’Challa simply smiled back as her mother corrected her.
“It’s ‘T’Challa,’ baby.”
“Really, whatever she wants to call me is fine. I do not mind.”
“Can I call you Lala?” she looked up at him with the cutest, biggest, brownest eyes he had ever seen in his life.
“Are you my cousins too?” She asked the two Dora Milaje excitedly.
“No, princess. We are friends of Lala,” Okoye chuckled as T’Challa shot her a look. “I am Okoye.”
“Yes, and I am Ayo.”
“Ayo. Lala, Okoye, and Ayo. I can remember that!”
“How old are you, Imani?” T’Challa smiled down at his youngest family member.
“So, four,” Mira chuckled, poking Imani in her dimple and making her giggle. “Y’all go wash your hands for dinner; I’ll set the table. Kitchen sink’s right through here, and there’s a bathroom down the hall.”
Mira went back to the kitchen and set the food out. She grabbed the dishes from the cabinets and placed them around the table as they entered one by one. Imani took her usual seat, and the Wakandans filled in the other spots around the table, leaving the head for Mira.
“Is it just the two of you here?” Okoye asked. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you, but it’s not ours. We live with my brother, his wife, and their two kids. I, um...I had a hard time taking care of myself after he left.”
Okoye nodded, “That is quite understandable, Samira.”
“Please, call me Mira. All of you.” She smiled as she sat down at the head of the table. “Sorry, it’s nothing fancy. I’ve been craving a fish plate all week.”
“It looks and smells delicious,” Ayo spoke.
“Indeed. I cannot say I have ever had fried fish with spaghetti, though,” the king mused.
“It’s a southern delicacy,” she winked as she scooped some on Imani’s plate before passing him the dish. Mira got Imani’s plate together before grabbing the hot sauce from the middle of the table and generously sprinkling her catfish. She took a healthy helping of greens and spaghetti for herself once the dish came back around the table, and after everybody’s plate was fixed, the only sounds that could be heard were scraping utensils and the occasional grunt of satisfaction.
“Mira, this was delicious,” Ayo said when dinner was winding down, the other two Wakandans nodding along.
“Mommy’s a great cook. She taught me how to scramble eggs.”
“Did she, now?”
“Mhm, and how to make biscuits!”
“It’s actually your uncle’s recipe. I’ll have to make them for you some time.”
“I would love that, thank you.”
“So how are you my cousin if you're the same age as mommy?”
T’Challa looked to Mira for help, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.
“Lala’s daddy and your granddaddy were brothers...he’s your daddy’s cousin.”
“Do I have more cousins?”
“You do. I have a little sister named Shuri, but she is much older than you. Okoye here is like family, though, and she has a son about your age.”
“What’s his name?”
“A’Kidi. I think the two of you would get along nicely.”
“Mommy, can I meet him? And Shuri?”
Now it was time for Mira to look to T’Challa for assistance, and he smiled and nodded.
“Sure, why not?” She smiled as Imani did a little dance in her seat. It dawned on her that they would probably have to go to Wakanda sometime soon, and her head filled with a million questions. “Mommy needs to talk to Lala about something, sweetie. Why don’t you go play with your toys for a little bit, hm?”
“Ok, mommy, can I show Ayo and Okoye my dolls?”
“That’s up to them.”
“We would love to, princess,” Ayo smiled warmly at the little girl as she grabbed both warriors’ hands and pulled them along.
“She is precious,” T’Challa smiled after her as she rounded the corner with his guards.
“She really is sometimes. She’s a handful though...takes after him a lot.”
“I can see. She took his face.”
“His whole face! It’s like I wasn’t even involved.”
The two of them laughed as they cleaned off the table before silence set in, and Mira’s mind wandered back to the elephant in the room.
“So...what exactly did he do?”
T’Challa sighed and sat down. “I take it you are aware of his job...and his scars?”
Mira nodded but hung her head. She wasn’t used to people knowing what Erik really did for a living, and she was slightly embarrassed in T’Challa’s presence for loving such a violent man. He was never that way with her or with their little girl, or she would never have stayed with him. When he was fully present with them, he was soft and warm. When Imani would run her hands over her daddy’s scars because she liked the texture, Mira didn’t see them as trophies or atonements...she saw them as home.
“He joined the military, took those jobs, climbed the ranks...all just to prepare himself to kill my father and me and take over the crown. His methods before he got to Wakanda certainly were illegal, but once he entered Wakandan soil, he abided by our laws. He challenged me to the crown and won until I was brought back to life and took it back from him. Yes, many lives were lost in battle, and he will have much to atone for with the Wakandan public, but our family...we know why he did what he did, and we don’t wish to punish him for it. We wish to bring him home. To bring you and Imani home. Our family has been separated by blood and oceans for far too long.”
“He killed you...but you want to help him?”
“He is family, and he was hurting. Had I been in his shoes, I probably would have done the same thing. My father...what he did was reprehensible, and I do not wish to follow in his footsteps.”
“I believe you. I just don’t think he will.”
“Neither do I, but that is where I need your help. We tried to wake him up to talk to him, but he did not respond well, so we put him back under. If you’re there-”
“I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure? It might be tough to see him like that.”
“I know...but I’ll do anything for Imani to have her daddy.”
“When can we go?”
“Whenever you want-”
“Ok, then, We leave tomorrow.”
Mira nodded in agreement, seemingly lost in her thoughts.
“Are you ok?”
“Not really. This is a lot to take in.”
“I understand. I can’t imagine how it must feel to grieve someone and find out they are still living.”
“I can’t either, and I’m the one feeling it.” Mira sighed and pushed it to the side for the time being. “So you mentioned treatment options?”
“You’re what?!” Stef and Ana yelled, with their faces way too close to the camera.
“I said, we’re leaving for Wakanda, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Are you ok, sis? Is this one of those trips where you go find yourself or something?” Stef was wary of Mira leaving. He couldn’t tell if she was ok or not, but Ana held his hand to get him to hush and listen.
“What’s in Wakanda, Mira?” she asked.
“Erik.” They both looked confused for a moment before she spoke again, “It’s a long story, but he’s half Wakandan, and he’s been there in a medically induced coma all this time.”
“Excuse me?” Stef’s eyes bugged out of his head, and Ana’s jaw was almost on the floor.
“You can’t just say that and not give more details, girl.”
“You won’t believe me. Trust me, it’s insane.”
“Try me,” Stefan furrowed his brows at his little sister and crossed his arms.
“Ok, fine,” she said, crossing her arms right back with an added helping of attitude on top. “Erik is a prince. His uncle, the former king, killed his dad and left him in Oakland. Erik went to Wakanda to kill his cousin, who is the king now. He killed him, became king, then the current king came back and almost killed him but healed him instead. He’s been in a medically-induced coma this whole time, and they want me to come make decisions on his care and help with his rehabilitation...That’s it.”
“That’s it? Girl, what kind of Lion King fuckery-”
“I am chill, but you gotta admit that shit’s so crazy it has to be true.”
“Oh, it’s true...the king and his guards are here. They stayed the night.”
“You got royalty in the house, and we’re missing it?!”
Mira laughed, “Don’t worry, they’re family. I’m sure it won’t be the last time.”
“I guess,” Stef rolled his eyes. “And you’re sure you’re ok with all this?”
“I mean, I won’t lie and say it’s easy, but I have to do it.”
“Ok...you know if you need us for anything, we’re just-”
“A phone call away. I know,” Mira gave her sister-in-law a warm smile right when she heard the tiniest knock at the door. “Come in!”
Imani teetered in, still half-sleep but wired and ready for the day ahead.
“Mommy, is it time to go yet?” Mira laughed, and so did Stef and Ana, drawing Imani’s attention. “Hi Titi Ana, hi Uncle Stef! Mommy and I are going to Watanda with Lala-”
“There you go!” Stef cheered her on all the way from Brooklyn as Ana beamed at her favorite niece.
“I have more cousins in Wakanda! One of them isn't really my cousin, but his name is A’Kidi, and we’re gonna be best friends!”
“That sounds great, baby girl.”
“You give A’Kidi our best.”
“Mani, why don’t you go ahead and get dressed? I’ll be there in a minute to pack your bags.”
“Ok, mommy. Bye Titi Ana, bye Uncle Stef!”
“Bye, pretty girl.”
Imani blew them kisses before she traipsed back to her room down the hall to throw together an outfit for the day. Mira liked to let her choose her own clothes, so sometimes her outfits were a little...eccentric.
“I wonder what she’ll put on today,” Ana chuckled.
“God only knows with that girl,” Mira mused with a proud smile taking over her face. Reality sunk in again, and her joy waned a little as she began to second-guess herself.
“Uh-oh, I know that look. You can’t back out, sis. Think of Imani; he’s her father.”
“What if I’m doing the wrong thing, though? Maybe he’s not the type of person who should be in Imani’s life-”
“Sammy, listen to me,” Stef had to use her childhood nickname to calm her down. He could tell she was starting to spiral, and he didn’t want her to start hyperventilating. Mira locked eyes with him and groaned.
“I hate when you call me that.”
“I know, but it worked,” he smiled at her before turning serious. “You’re doing the right thing. You said it yourself; they’re gonna try to rehabilitate him.”
“I’m always right.” Ana slapped his shoulder while Mira rolled her eyes. “Ow, abuse!”
“Anyways, you need to get back to packing, girlie.”
“Ugh, I do. I hate packing.” Mira complained. She was notoriously bad at packing for trips. She always overpacked yet always still forgot essential items. Thankfully T’Challa told her everything would be provided for them, so that took at least some of the pressure off.
“You’ll be fine. Now go feed your child. She looked hungry.”
Mira flipped her brother off and blew a kiss to Ana before ending the call.
She pocketed her phone before exiting the safe haven that is her room and traveled down the hall to Imani’s room. She knocked on the door and entered once she heard her daughter’s tiny voice ring out, telling her it was ok to come into her space. When she opened the door, she was met with the sight of her baby girl wearing last week’s Easter dress with a pair of fairy wings and Jordans her uncle insisted she had to have.
“Looking good today. What’s the inspiration?”
“I’m a pretty fairy that plays basketball, and I’m really good at it because of my wings.”
“Nice. You ready to help me make biscuits for our guests?”
“Alright, let’s go.”
“Can I pick the music?”
“Shh, they might still be asleep. It’s early.”
“No need to apologize. You ready, chef?”
“Yes ma’am, chef,” Imani called to her mom before heading out the door and downstairs, Mira in tow. She went right to the record bin and thumbed through the titles before pulling out her favorite. “This one!”
Imani carefully handed her the record the way Mira taught her, and she smiled at her daughter’s pick. She had also been feeling Beyoncé that morning. She popped the record on the player, and they got started as the opening bass chords of “Deja Vu” put them in the perfect mood to throw down in the kitchen.
Okoye and Ayo were the first to emerge, then T’Challa joined the ladies downstairs a few minutes after. The five of them tore through their breakfast and were almost too full to get up.
“Mira, you have got to stop feeding us like this,” T’Challa teased as he leaned back in his chair, hand rubbing his stomach as if that would aid his digestion.
“What can I say? I love cooking for company.” She shrugged before a wave of nerves hit her, and she leaned back herself. As if T’Challa could sense the change in her internal dialogue, he reached his hand across the table and grabbed hers.
“You’re doing the right thing, Mira.”
She nodded, trying to keep tears from reaching her eyes.
“Why don’t you go ahead and get packed, and we’ll clean the kitchen?”
She nodded again and went to do just that. She needed to be alone for just a moment to process exactly what was going on. Her husband was alive. Her husband really was a prince. Her husband didn’t want to be saved.
That last one hurt. Mira always thought that she and Imani grounded him to this world until he went off the deep end and went to find Wakanda, but knowing he didn’t want to fight for them filled her with a rage she didn’t know how to contain. She angrily threw random items into her suitcase and hoped she got everything she needed before zipping up and going to her daughter’s room. She took more care packing Imani’s things and headed back downstairs with their bags. T’Challa saw her coming down the stairs and took the bags from her, carrying them out to the car and placing them in the trunk.
“Alright, is that everything?” Okoye asked.
“I think so.”
“Mommy, did you pack daddy?”
The three Wakandans looked on in confusion and intrigue.
“No, I didn’t. He’s still up there. Why don’t you go get him?”
“Ok, we can’t leave without daddy,” she called as she all but ran up the stairs to her room to grab her picture. When she came back and proudly showed it to them, all three of their hearts melted at the image.
“Those were her first steps.”
“He looks so happy,” T’Challa commented.
“He was. She was his pride and joy.”
“Is,” he whispered over Imani’s head, making Mira smile. She still couldn’t believe he was alive. She needed to see it to believe it. “So, are you two ready?”
“I think so...”
“It will be ok, I promise. We will figure this out as a family.”
He held his hands out for Mira and Imani, and they each grabbed one as the three of them walked to the car. Okoye and Ayo followed behind them and slid in the front seat while the royals slid in the back, all five of them eagerly awaiting whatever was to come when they got back to Wakanda. All of the adults knew they were just now starting the hard part of their journey. T’Challa knew rehabilitating his cousin wouldn’t be easy, but he had to try. Mira prayed to all the gods she could think of, hoping that someone would hear her and maybe help things go her way. She was still angry at Erik, but she wanted Imani’s father back. Come hell or high water, she was determined to make it happen for her little girl and for herself.
Tags: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae
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Heeey there~! 🥺👉🏾👈🏾 I think the world could use a cute bunny!Izuku tddk fic and you’re the perfect person to write one into existence! 😭 Thank you in advance!
Anything for you, friendo!!! <333
Word count: 5125
Well… Shoto thought to himself, looking down at the pile of clothes on the pavement. This is a surprise.
He honestly had no idea what had happened. One minute, him and Midoriya were walking down the street towards Yuuei with their groceries, the next, a small child had barrelled past them, knocking Midoriya's arm as she went. Initially, his friend had insisted that he was fine, but the moment the culprit had turned down the next street, he had vanished, his clothes and bag unceremoniously clattering to the floor.
Shoto had been - understandably, he thought - alarmed by the development. After all, it wasn't every day one's best friend and crush disappeared, leaving nothing but a pile of clothes behind. Shoto was entirely ready to sprint after the children and shake them for information, when suddenly something moved under the pile, informing him that his friend was indeed still alive, just struggling to get free.
Shoto knelt down and tried to untangle the clothes so whatever was underneath could escape. What he wasn't expecting was to come face to face with a fluffy Havana rabbit in place of his friend.
Wide, verdant eyes with dilated pupils stared up at him questioningly and Shoto felt himself blush at the sight. He knew those eyes better than his own.
Yes… Definitely Midoriya.
Just when he thought his best friend couldn't get any cuter, he had to go and turn into the most adorable rabbit in the world.
His ears were upright, albeit a tiny bit shorter than average, his nose was pink as it moved around, sniffing the air, and his coat was ebony with an emerald shine, except for his paws, which were white and messy.
It's like he's wearing socks...
Shoto shook himself.
Fawn over your best friend later, fool. You've got a job to do.
'Midoriya, blink twice if you can understand me?'
Those big eyes continued to watch him intently, before blinking twice in confirmation.
'Good.' That made things a lot easier. 'Now, are you hurt? Blink once for no, twice for yes.'
Midoriya blinked once, much to his relief. Then, he let out an adorable sneeze that went straight to Shoto's heart.
'Okay, I'm going to pick up your clothes and bags so I can take us back to the dorms. Am I okay to carry you?'
Midoriya nodded and Shoto could've sworn his friend was smiling. He tried not to dwell on it though and got to work. He shoved Midoriya's clothes into one of the fallen carrier bags, before picking them up and transferring them to one hand. The weight was fine, but the straps bit into his fingers harshly - it was going to be a painful walk back.
Midoriya must've sensed his distress though, because the moment Shoto scooped him up against his chest, his friend hopped up and took his place on Shoto's shoulder. When he turned to look at him, confused, Midoriya nuzzled his nose against his cheek to assure him that he was fine.
It took every ounce of self-control for Shoto not to set them both on fire with his quirk.
'Okay, Midoriya. I'll allow it.' He spoke evenly, despite his friend still rubbing against him. 'But if you fall, I'm going to be very upset. I will cry, don't test me.'
The rabbit squeaked at that and made sure to shuffle a little closer, until he was nestled near the crook of Shoto’s neck.
Distributing the carrier bags into both hands to distract him from the proximity, Shoto then set off down the street.
Somehow, the walk back wasn't as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. Sure, some people sent him confused looks, while others straight up muttered about how he was a careless owner for letting Midoriya perch on his shoulder, but Shoto found that being in Midoriya's presence helped him feel less agitated. After all, Midoriya always had a talent for calming Shoto down when he let his anger get the better of him.
Soft fur brushed against his face and Shoto sighed, content, before deciding that he should probably say something.
'How are you feeling?'
When Midoriya tilted his head to the side, he realised his mistake. 'Oh yeah. Er, blink once for good, twice for okay, three for sad, four for other.'
He didn't appreciate how easy it was for Midoriya to look so amused as he blinked twice. Before Shoto could ask though, Midoriya settled back near his neck and purred.
I didn't know rabbits could purr.
Shoto exhaled carefully to control himself and quickly decided to continue the rest of their journey in silence, lest he embarrass himself further.
'Why is it, when something happens, it is always you two.' Aizawa leant against his desk and pinched his brow.
'For the record, Sensei,' Shoto raised a finger. 'I understood that reference and think that the current circumstances are a lot different.'
'Answer the question, Todoroki.' Aizawa glared at him. 'Why is Midoriya a rabbit?'
Shoto sighed heavily and proceeded to explain what had happened. He informed his teacher that there was no foul play - it was merely an accident - and that Midoriya wasn't hurt. Aizawa nodded at set intervals and when Shoto eventually fell silent, he pushed himself away from his desk and looked down at them.
'It wouldn't be logical to punish you for this.' He began bluntly. 'But in the future, I will be more stringent with your liberties to leave school grounds alone.'
He then looked down at the small rabbit, sitting by Shoto's leg. 'Midoriya, you have to go see Recovery Girl in case there are any health concerns we need to be aware of. I will take you. Todoroki, go back to the dorms and keep this to yourself for now.'
Before he could turn around though, Midoriya suddenly nuzzled against his leg in an effort to make him stay.
Shoto looked down questioningly to find wide eyes staring up at him, filled with emotion. Unable to simply walk away from such an expression, he crouched down to stroke his chin.
'It's okay, Midoriya. I won’t be gone for long.'
As it turned out, it was not okay.
The moment Aizawa bent down to pick him up, Midoriya went feral. He jumped into the air to escape his teacher's incoming hands and landed a metre to his left.
'Problem child.' Aizawa warned, before trying again. However, Midoriya repeated the action, then bounced in a zigzag motion to evade capture. When he came to a stop, Shoto noticed the look of defiance on his face - if that were even possible.
Aizawa grumbled and fingered his capture weapon. 'Don't make me use this.'
Midoriya frowned before hopping to hide behind the desk. Their teacher followed him, muttering something about how 'you little gremlins never make it easy for me.'
Shoto stood, gawking as the two circled the desk comically. Eventually, Aizawa reached his breaking point and raised his capture weapon.
However, Midoriya was ready.
Shoto watched in awe as emerald and scarlet lightning came to life with the activation of his quirk. Sparks danced around his friend's small form as he leapt into the air to avoid the scarf. With practiced ease, he bounced off the walls around them - his style similar to his human form - before he eventually landed behind him. Shoto looked down to find Midoriya hiding behind his leg and glaring up at their teacher.
'Midoriya.' Aizawa almost growled, crimson eyes flashing dangerously. The moment his erasure activated, the shining light vanished from around the rabbit. 'Come here, now.'
Shoto stared, bemused.
'Are you serious?' Aizawa raised an eyebrow.
'Don't you thump your foot at me, kiddo.' Their teacher snapped, albeit Shoto could tell the action had mellowed his anger. In any other situation, he might've smiled at the way pro-hero Eraserhead attempted to lecture a rabbit.
Now though, he had to play the peacemaker.
'Midoriya.' Shoto spoke gently. Angry eyes softened when they landed on him. 'If I stay with you, will you go to Recovery Girl? You can ride on my shoulder again?'
His friend considered this offer, before nodding once.
'Unbelievable.' Aizawa waved his hand, exasperated. 'You two will be the death of me.'
Shoto considered his teacher, before bending down to pick Midoriya up with ease. When he got settled on his shoulder, the two followed Aizawa out of the room.
As they walked down the corridor, he heard his teacher mutter, 'I swear, if you pull this shit again, I'll set Sushi on you.'
'Who's Sushi?' Shoto asked.
'None of your business.'
One thing Shoto quickly came to release, as he dutifully accepted his role as caregiver, was that Midoriya was a lot more clingy than usual.
He couldn't tell whether it was a side effect of the quirk or whether his friend was simply taking advantage of his adorableness and being affectionate because he knew no one would be able to deny him cuddles. Either way, Shoto didn't mind. He liked hugging Midoriya as much as he enjoyed receiving them.
He especially didn't mind that Midoriya seemed to be the most affectionate with him, as he watched his peers slowly come to terms with their classmate's temporary form.
'He's so tiny!' Ashido gushed, as Yaoyorozu stroked Midoriya, who looked rather content in her lap. 'I just wanna squeeze his cheeks and eat him all up!
Midoriya squeaked at that.
'Stop scaring him, Ashido-san!' Yaoyorozu gasped, before scratching behind his ears to calm him.
'He knows I'm only joking.' She waved her off. 'We all know Bakugou's the one who likes rabbit stew anyway-'
'Ashido.' Shoto warned, as he strode towards where Yaoyorozu was sitting. He noticed how Midoriya trembled at the mention of Bakugou's name and immediately bent down, opening his arms. 'It's okay. He's not gonna hurt you. You want a hug?'
Nodding quickly, Midoriya jumped out of Yaoyorozu's lap, trusting Shoto to catch him in his arms and bring him close to his chest. Shoto cradled the back of his small head, stroking pointed ears as his other hand supported his fluffy butt. He tried to ignore the fact that he was technically groping his crush, but he couldn't hide his blush, especially when Midoriya reached up to lick his neck.
'That's so cute!' Hagakure exclaimed, shaking Ashido by the shoulders while the rest of the girls cooed at the display. 'I've never seen Todoroki-kun so affectionate!'
'Look at Deku-kun's little tongue, I'm dying!' Uraraka squealed with excitement as she bounced on the balls of her feet. 'Catch me, Iida-kun. I might swoon.'
'Urarak-ah!' The class president yelped as she dramatically fell into his arms. 'I told you to stay hydrated!'
'I'm just being dramatic, jeez!' Uraraka pouted, flopping against Iida.
Shoto raised an eyebrow at his friends' antics, before turning his attention back to Midoriya, who was nibbling at his shirt. He smiled softly at the action and stroked one of his ears.
'You're not allowed to eat my clothes, Midoriya.' He playfully scolded.
Then a thought occurred to him.
'Hey, Iida.' He spoke softly, not taking his gaze away from Midoriya, who stared up at him with big eyes. 'I need to fetch some food for Midoriya. He hasn't eaten all day, so could you look after him for me?'
Uraraka fell to the floor with a shriek and in seconds, Iida was in front of them.
'It would be my pleasure to look after Midoriya-kun!' He announced, before his voice suddenly dropped and he rubbed the back of his neck. 'In fact, I was actually hoping I would get the chance to hold him, but I did not want to presume that I had that privilege!'
'What do you think, Midoriya?' Shoto tilted his head to the side. 'Can Iida hold you?'
His friend nuzzled against him softly, before eventually nodding. He turned to the class president and Shoto lifted him up under the arms to hand to Iida, whose eyes were wide and nervous.
When Midoriya got settled, Shoto then stepped back, lip twitching slightly. 'What do you want? Rabbits like carrots, right?'
Midoriya stuck his tongue out and made a gagging noise, which Shoto found oddly amusing.
'Midoriya-kun!' Iida went to gesticulate, but quickly realised both his hands were occupied. 'It is important to get the right nutrition, especially given the fact that you are under the effect of a quirk!'
'It's okay, Iida.' Shoto narrowed his eyes at the rabbit. 'I know Midoriya won't say no to spinach.'
Little ears pointed upwards and his nose twitched with interest. Shoto's heart skipped a beat. 'I'll take that as a yes.'
In a moment of boldness, he then raised a finger and booped Midoriya's damp nose, before turning and heading to the kitchen.
When he arrived, he took some spinach from the fridge and rinsed it under the tap, then reached for Midoriya's favourite All Might bowl. Fully armed with his food, Shoto then looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Iida, who was trying not to hand chop Midoriya as he stroked him. Keeping his face neutral, lest he betray his amusement, he then made his way towards one of the more quiet members of his class, who was mixing some honey into his cup of tea.
'Koda, can I ask you something?' He mumbled, watching his classmate jump slightly at having been addressed.
When he realised Shoto was actually talking to him, Koda nodded, tilting his head to the side in question.
'Can you use your quirk on Midoriya?' Shoto scratched his cheek. 'Earlier, when I asked him if he was okay, he indicated that he was, but I want to be sure. I- I'm worried about him.'
Koda looked at him, knowingly - Shoto wasn't quite sure how to feel about that - then nodded softly and walked over to Midoriya. His classmate whispered something into a large ear and Shoto waited for the result.
Midoriya ground his teeth together as he seemed to reply, before his eyes met Shoto's own, a warmth in them that was oddly familiar and relaxing. He was so enraptured by them, he didn't notice that Koda had returned to his side until he flashed a thumbs up.
'Midoriya-san's okay.' He spoke in a high voice, slightly amused. 'He was slightly overwhelmed at first, because the quirk seems to make him act more on instinct, but now that he’s accepted that, he told me he's liking all the hugs and pets! He feels rather tall on your shoulder too. And er…'
'Er…' Koda grinned bashfully. 'Midoriya-san also said that "with Todoroki-kun fussing over me, I've never been better, so please tell him he doesn't need to worry about me".'
Shoto flushed at that, but before he could fruitlessly try to defend himself, the door to the common room slammed open.
Shoto rolled his eyes and turned to find Bakugou storming into the room, making a beeline for Midoriya, who had frozen in Iida's arms. 'Is it true you're so pathetic you let a kid use their quirk on you?'
He came to a stop and stared at the rabbit, before he burst out laughing. 'Ha! Look at you! You really are pathetic!'
'Bakugou-kun!' Iida exclaimed. 'Please refrain from calling Midoriya such names!'
'Shut up, four eyes!' He growled. 'I'm just speaking the truth!'
Shoto placed his bowl of spinach on the counter and made his way over. Everyone was used to Bakugou's aggressive nature - whether they liked it or not - but that just fuelled Shoto’s need to protect Midoriya even more, especially in this state.
'No one wants you here, Bakugou.' He spoke firmly. 'If you're just going to run your mouth, you can do it somewhere else, where you won't use my best friend as your verbal punching bag.'
'Don't fucking tell me what to do, Half n Half!' He growled, baring his teeth at Shoto. 'Like I give a shit what you extras want!'
'You're making Midoriya-san uncomfortable.' Yaoyorozu stood up then, fists clenched. 'Bakugou-san I must insist you stop. He's had a rough enough day as it is.'
'Do I look like I care?'
'No, but you should.' Shoto crossed his arms over his chest and looked at him, coolly. 'He may look helpless, but that right there is a ruthless killing machine.'
'Fuck off, Half n Half. Like Deku could do anything to me.' He stuck his finger out to poke Midoriya. 'What are you gonna do? Eat a carro- AGH! YOU BASTARD!'
Shoto couldn't hide his smile when Midoriya bit Bakugou's finger in retaliation, a look of defiance on his face. His classmate reeled back, clutching his bloody hand, before he lunged for Midoriya. However, the latter was faster and leapt out of Iida's arms just as Bakugou crashed into the class rep and the two clattered to the floor with a shriek.
Green lightning coursed through Midoriya as he flew through the air towards Shoto, who instinctively opened his arms to catch him.
The moment he felt soft fur against him, Shoto took action, wrapping his arms around Midoriya and holding him close as his friend scrambled to burrow his head in the crook of Shoto's neck, trusting him to protect him.
Bakugou snarled as he wrestled himself off Iida and onto his feet. Before he could continue his attack though, Shoto raised his right arm and pointed it at him.
'You brought that on yourself, Bakugou.' His voice was even. 'Now back off. I'm not letting you anywhere near him.'
'Ha! Don't make me laugh.' Bakugou spat, tiny explosions popping from his hands.
Shoto noticed the way Midoriya pressed closer, sensitive to the loud noises as his damp nose wet his neck, and frowned. Lowering his temperature, he prepared to attack, when suddenly the door slammed open.
'I AM HERE TO SEE MIDORIYA-SHOUNEN!' All Might burst into the room, his muscled body flexing before he reverted back to his true form with a puff of smoke. Shoto watched, mildly concerned, as his teacher hacked up an inordinate amount of blood into a tissue.
When All Might eventually cleared his face and pocketed the tissue, he smiled sheepishly at the class. However, when he noticed Bakugou's fighting stance, Shoto's frost and Iida's mid-air hand chop, he frowned.
'Am I interrupting something?'
'It's all under control, Sensei!' Yaoyorozu stepped between Shoto and Bakugou and clasped her hands together. 'Bakugou was just going to see Recovery Girl about his finger.'
'Really?' All Might raised an eyebrow. 'What happened?'
'That vermin bit me, so I'm gonna make him regret-'
'You invaded Midoriya-kun's personal space!' Iida frantically shouted. 'The consequences are justified.'
'Four-eyes, I swear to fuck, I'll end you!'
'Language, Bakugou-shounen.' All Might raised a finger. 'I'll deal with Midoriya-shounen, but right now, you need to go to the infirmary.'
Bakugou glared at his teacher and, for a moment, Shoto thought he'd refuse, when finally, the blonde tsked and turned away.
'Fucking rodent's probably gonna give me rabies.' He muttered as he stalked out of the room. When he was out of earshot, Shoto tilted his head to the side.
'How would we be able to tell the difference if he did have rabies?'
It was a genuine question, yet when everyone around him laughed - including a vibrating Midoriya - Shoto allowed himself a small smile.
Shortly after Bakugou departed, All Might took the opportunity to take Midoriya outside for a quick word. Shoto wasn’t entirely sure how many words were going to be exchanged during their conversation, seen as Midoriya couldn’t exactly talk, but he trusted the former number one hero to figure it out.
So, while he waited for his friend to return, Shoto wandered back to the kitchen, grabbed his food for Midoriya and took a moment to simply relax. As much as he loved spending time with his friends, all this socialising was starting to become rather overwhelming, so it was nice to finally have a quiet moment to himself, now that his classmates weren’t hounding him for information about Midoriya’s current state.
He managed ten minutes of pure Shoto-time, before he heard a cackle from the living room and the chaos began once more.
Preparing himself for worst, Shoto turned around, only to come face to face with verdant eyes, mere inches from his face. Shoto’s own eyes widened and he stepped back in shock, watching as a black and green rabbit floated lazily in the air.
His friend nodded to him in greeting, indifferent to the way his back legs rose higher as he began to rotate. His ears flopped against gravity as he turned upside down, nose twitching as he eyed the spinach in Shoto's hand.
Unable to look away, he fumbled to grab a leaf and brought it to Midoriya's mouth. His friend eagerly nibbled at it and in seconds it was gone.
Shoto watched, blinking dumbly, before he shook his head and finally found his voice.
'Uraraka, why is Midoriya floating?' He spoke calmly, raising his arm and poking soft fur so that his friend was upright once more. ‘Where’s All Might?’
‘He had to leave to make a phone call.’ Uraraka shrugged, then she watched as Midoriya continued floating across the room and grinned. ‘As for Deku-kun, he said he missed being tall, so I said I’d help him out.’
‘You speak rabbit now?’ He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
‘Miruko-san taught me a little, yeah!’ She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. However, when Shoto shot her a look, she groaned and brought her hands together. 'You're no fun, Todoroki-kun. Release!'
Midoriya squeaked as the gravity returned to his body and he descended to the ground. Abandoning the bowl, Shoto dove forward to catch him, arms outstretched. He breathed a sigh of relief as a fluffy stomach made contact with his open palms, safe, before he landed on the floor with a thud, chin, elbows and stomach receiving carpet burn as he slid forward slightly.
'A bit of warning would've been nice.' He grumbled. However, his anger quickly dissipated when Midoriya hopped towards him and licked his nose in thanks.
'I knew you'd catch him.' Uraraka skipped forward and patted her friend on the head. 'See, Deku-kun. I told you Todoroki-kun would fall for you!'
Shoto buried his head in the carpet and groaned.
Shoto wasn't exactly sure how he got into this position. One minute, he was reclined in one of the common room armchairs, reading a manga he had borrowed from Sero, while Midoriya released some pent up energy by zooming around the room. The next moment, he awoke from an unexpected nap to find his friend laid across his chest, twitching as he slept.
Shoto looked down at him with a soft expression as he registered the way his hands had wrapped protectively around Midoriya whilst he slept. Not wanting to let go just yet, he absentmindedly stroked soft, dark fur, hugging his friend closer and watching the way Midoriya moved with each rise and fall of Shoto's chest.
The two stayed that way for a while; Midoriya gently snoozed while Shoto fussed over him, gradually working his hand up to rub his head. He tickled the crease where upright ears met his head, before Shoto reached his friend's whiskers. He noticed how Midoriya leant into the touch and felt himself smile.
Eventually though, in typical Midoriya fashion, his twitches increased in size and frequency as he dreamt, until the poor boy woke himself up with a full body convulsion. Alarmed, he lifted his head and looked around frantically, nose twitching as he smelt the environment.
'Hey, bunny.' Shoto soothed, eyes widening when he processed the nickname, but Midoriya didn't seem to mind. In fact, his friend physically relaxed at the sound of his voice, then turned his head to lick Shoto's hand in greeting.
His heart swelled. 'Must've been quite the dream if it woke you up.'
Midoriya squeaked, before hiding his face between his paws, embarrassed. His fluffy body shook when Shoto's chest rumbled with amusement.
'What were you dreaming about? All Might?'
Midoriya shook his head.
Shoto shouldn't have felt such satisfaction when his friend growled at the mention of that name, but alas, he was a simple man.
'Were you dreaming about me?' He tried to sound playful, but couldn't hide the slight blush on his cheeks.
It didn't help that Midoriya just stared at him with big, round eyes, like he wanted to say something, then Shoto realised.
'You were chasing a cat, weren't you?' He asked, intelligently.
He didn't know rabbits could sigh, let alone with that much exasperation.
'No?' He quirked an eyebrow. 'I'm not sure then, you'll have to tell me about it when you can talk again.'
Midoriya shook his head, before he let out a big yawn.
'You still sleepy?' Shoto tilted his head to the side, scratching his friend's chin. 'Maybe we should head to bed then. Blink once for my room, twice for your room.'
Midoriya stared at him for a moment, as if to say, 'Are you sure?'
'I'm not leaving you on your own, Midoriya.' Shoto answered, as if it were obvious. 'What if something happened to you? You can’t use your phone, you don’t even have opposable thumbs.’
His friend scrunched his nose up and frowned, before he relented and blinked once.
‘My room it is.’ Shoto reluctantly stopped stroking Midoriya and picked him up. After setting him comfortably on his shoulder, he stood up, grabbed the discarded manga and exited the common room.
By the time he entered his dorm room and got Midoriya settled on his futon, his friend was already dozing off again, his breathing evening out as his head rested against the pillow. Smiling softly at the sight, Shoto switched into his pyjamas and laid down next to his friend.
He leant his cheek on his palm and observed his sleeping form, basking in the rare opportunity to shamelessly appreciate Midoriya, one of the most important people in his life, without fear of being discovered. Pointed ears twitched, closed eyes fluttered and his teeth ground together slightly. Shoto watched the small behaviours, heart suddenly feeling too large for his chest as emotion consumed him.
His mouth moved before he could think.
'I'd do anything to protect you, you know?' He whispered softly, reaching a hand out before faltering. 'I promise, I'll try my best to always keep you safe.'
When Midoriya snuggled further into the pillow, Shoto sighed and closed his eyes, sleep slowly returning.
He missed the way verdant eyes opened to regard him with unbridled emotion, before shuffling closer.
The first thing Shoto's hazy mind thought when he woke up the next morning was Heavy.
Groaning, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, before blinking them open, sleep blurring his vision. When it finally cleared, Shoto noticed that something was laid on top of him…
Or to be more specific, someone.
Or to be even more specific, Midoriya?!
Shoto's eyes widened and his face immediately turned crimson. Midoriya Izuku was in his bed, cuddling Shoto and drooling all over his chest. His fluffy green hair tickled his neck and his large arm was wrapped around his waist protectively.
It was only when he remembered the events of yesterday that Shoto realised the quirk must have just worn off in his sleep, causing Midoriya to transform back into his usual self.
Nothing to worry about. Shoto told himself as he tried not to set his blanket on fire. You're glad he's back to normal. No need to feel- Wait…
Shoto narrowed his eyes with suspicion, before he gingerly raised the blanket covering them, his curiosity getting the better of him. When his eyes landed on way too much freckled skin, he suppressed a yelp and dropped the material.
His face felt like it was on fire, but before he could calm himself down, Midoriya suddenly roused. He squished his cheek against Shoto's chest, before he groaned and looked up at him, scratching his disheveled hair and smiling.
'Hey, Todoroki-kun.' He mumbled, before rolling off Shoto and stretching. Luckily, the blanket still covered his lower body, but the frontal view of Midoriya's muscled torso was still too much for Shoto's heart that early in the morning.
'Morning, Midoriya.' He replied, ignoring the way his voice squeaked slightly. 'How do you feel?'
‘I feel great, all thanks to you!’ His friend replied, chirpily. ‘Thank you for looking after me yesterday. I know it was a little difficult at times.’
‘I’ll always look after you, Midoriya.’ Shoto shrugged, ignoring the blush on his cheeks.
‘Does that mean I can still cuddle you when I want to?’ Midoriya wiggled his eyebrows friskily, albeit he chuckled nervously. However, his playfulness was lost on Shoto.
‘Of course, it does.’ He fiddled with his blanket and looked away, realising his bluntness. ‘I like cuddling you and looking after you.’
Midoriya’s teasing smile faltered and he gazed at Shoto, curiously. Several seconds passed, before his friend nudged closer and reached out a trembling hand.
‘What about this?’ He cupped Shoto’s cheek and stroked the area under his scar with a gentleness that juxtaposed the raw strength he knew Midoriya possessed. The touch was so warm, Shoto felt himself nod, eyelids fluttering shut. ‘Good, because yesterday made me realise a lot of things, gave me the opportunity to figure out what I want… What you might want.’
Shoto exhaled shakily at that, not trusting himself to speak.
When Midoriya spoke next, he sounded a lot closer and Shoto’s eyes shot open when warm breath fanned his face. ‘I know that I want to be closer to you, if that’s what you want too? I know this isn’t the same as yesterday, but-’
‘Am I definitely awake right now?’ Shoto interrupted, swallowing heavily.
Midoriya smiled at that.
‘Good.’ Shoto placed his hand over the top of Midoriya’s own and leant forward to close the gap between them. He rubbed his lips against his friend’s own, before he kissed him softly, admiring the way slightly chapped lips pressed back. When they pulled away, Midoriya rested his forehead against his own and laughed breathlessly.
‘I’m glad you waited until I turned back into a human before doing that.’
Shoto hummed softly and leant in to whisper in his ear.
‘Well, it’s not every day you wake up to find your best friend naked in your bed.’ He sat back then and waited as verdant eyes widened with realisation and Midoriya lifted the blanket to find that he was, indeed, not wearing any clothing.
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Caught - Zeke x fem!Reader (18+)
Summary: It’s date night, baby. You and your idiot boyfriend decide to grab drinks at a bar neither of you are particularly fond of. Uhh, that’s it. No plot. It’s smut. What the fuck do you want from me?
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: Exhibitionism, public sex, sex under the influence (dubcon), rough sex, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, hair pulling, degradation, you admit you wanna fuck Colt in a half-assed way, name calling, pet names, alcohol, marijuana, facefucking, deep throating, fingering, cum play, nipple play, praise kink for like a second, Zeke is hella cute at the end... YEAH, THE LAST ONE IS A WARNING.
Any establishment that opts to have red lighting as an aesthetic choice never fails to put you on guard. There was nothing quite like a wannabe speakeasy to set the mood. You had sad men hiding in corners. Sad men waiting for cute girls to talk to them. Sad men who hoped their presence in a trendy, gaudy bar with old guns hung on the walls made them interesting.
You and Zeke passed by it one cold morning and you mentioned how tacky you thought these kind of places were. You jokingly said you wanted to go ironically. He called your bluff and said it would be an interesting date night. You reluctantly agreed. It was hard to say no to him, especially when his face had a pathetic pout on it.
You stood at the bar, looking at your phone. He was late as always.
Zeke was probably at home, sitting on his ugly couch, smoking his ugly weed. His ugly, perfect body laid out on his ugly couch. Inexplicably shirtless. Watching old Jerry Springer episodes on Youtube. An ugly ashtray full of Havana Ovals.
There was no other place you'd rather be. You wanted to be sprawled out on top of him, your head on his chest as he dithered about class disparity in the United States.
"We can laugh at Beau and Cletus all we want, but look at us. I pay for high-speed internet so I can watch this shit unfettered and make fun of their shoes. You just complained about two-day shipping not being fast enough. And you ordered, what, loose leaf chamomile tea? We're just as embarrassing as them, maybe even more so. The difference is that we have disposable income. I hate us."
On second thought, you took a large sip of your Cuba libre, maybe you were better off languishing in this faux speakeasy. The ground may have been sticky underneath your shoes, but at least you didn't have Zeke blabbering in your ear.
You felt a pair of arms snake themselves around your waist. You sighed, it was him.
"Miss me?" He kissed the back of your head.
"Nope, I've been too busy."
"Do you expect me to honestly believe that?"
"Yeah. I got caught up feeding my Neopet... Or if that's not an acceptable answer, I can say I was sleeping with your dad. You choose."
"Neopet. Obviously. I like knowing you care about things."
"Did you know they never die?"
You order a round of Cuba libres.
"I don't like rum," Zeke whined.
You shoved the drink in his hand and stole a handful of cut limes from the little container behind the bar.
"Really?" He asked bluntly.
"They never put enough. Trust me."
"That little green Mynci you made in 2001 is sitting there. Literally starving! Zeke." You grabbed his wrist. "That is verbatim what it says on the website. Starving." You plopped two slices of lime in his drink.
He stared at you, his grey eyes full of concern. He was high off his ass. "She was yellow."
"What was her name?"
"I can't remember, but I know it had like six numbers and probably three underscores."
"Do you miss her?"
"Every fucking day."
Laughter overtook both of you. You grabbed a table closest to the exit and he slid his backpack under it. You figured he didn't want to linger long as well. The chairs were freezing. You shifted in your seat. The cold didn't help your sore ass. Zeke took notice of this.
"I told you I was paddling you too hard." He took a tiny sip of his drink.
"I still stand by that you weren't hard enough."
"You were crying, pet."
"They were tears of happiness. You know, like when people win a Golden Globe or whatever."
"No one gets that excited over a fucking Golden Globe."
You slumped down into your chair. You had no witty retort. This happened more often than not when he was around. In just about every other social situation you were the paragon of humor. A true queen of comedy.
"Aww, did I hit a nerve?" He kicked your shin from under the table. The pain perked you up. You proceeded to stomp on his foot eliciting an audible wince from him.
"How long are you trying to stay here?" You implored, hoping he'd say something like "zero seconds" or "if I stay here any longer I'll turn into sand".
"Long enough to have sex in what I am assuming is a gross bathroom."
"You're just saying that because you're high, right? You can't--This place is gross," you pleaded.
"I had this planned from the beginning." He leaned back in his chair. "It shouldn't be too gross. This hellhole hasn't been open that long."
"My feet stick to the—"
"That's character." He leaned forward over the table, yanking you by the collar of your shirt so you were inches away from his face. "It makes for an interesting experience." His breath was absurdly minty with a deep undercurrent of tobacco and marijuana.
You let out a nervous laugh, desperately fighting off the beginnings of arousal. The gross old men leered. You lightly tapped Zeke's foot with your own.
"Those guys are really gross. Also, I wanna be high too," you complained.
He glanced at the growing pod of old men. "Let's hit the bathroom."
He got up, leaving his unfinished drink behind. You did the same. They weren't that impressive. You walked down the hall turning corners until you saw a sign for a bathroom. Zeke kicked in the door and shoved his head inside.
"I'm pretty sure no one is in here. And look there are even stalls."
He made his way over to one and tried to lock its door.
"Well, that’s broken."
He repeated this process on the remaining two stalls. None of them had working locks.
You looked around. "This is—"
"An even better opportunity than I could have imagined."
You were speechless. You knew he was a borderline insatiable tramp. But this was a lot. You were conflicted. On one hand, getting railed by him always sounded like a good time. But on the other, getting potentially caught by one of those decaying dinosaurs sounded like torture. And you hadn't committed any crimes bearing that level of punishment.
"But those guys are so weird looking." You whined like a child.
"I care. It'd be one thing if they were like your hot friends..."
"You can't say that and not say which ones. It's illegal; you and I both know that."
"Fuck. Fine. Pieck, duh. Or Colt."
"Oh god. Really?... Colt?" He sounded vaguely disgusted.
"Fuck you! Yeah, really Colt. It'd be a learning experience for him."
"I wouldn't let him join in."
You smirked. "You say that now, but in the moment the tides may change." You punctuated the sentence with a wink.
"Alright, you might have a point with the Colt thing. But I'm disappointed Reiner didn't come up."
"You know you can just say who YOU would want to catch us? Like my answers aren't the end-all-be-all."
You went to join him in the decrepit stall. You hugged his toned body and buried your face into the crook of his neck. His hands went straight to your ass, typical.
"Reiner, because I know it'd fuck with him." He yammered on. "Or what's that one guy's name? The one that hangs out with my brother?"
"So many people hang out with your brother. You really want a 19-year-old catching us?"
"Hush. I'm thinking. Blonde. Blue eyes." He paused. "Also Colt's 19, dumb ass."
"Colt doesn't count!! Are you thinking of Historia?"
Zeke broke the hug and rubbed his temples. "It's a boy. He is a boy."
"Well, more like a man."
"You're not helping. Blonde. Blue eyes. He's a," Zeke paused for emphasis, "MAN."
"I think that's Armi—"
He barreled through your sentence. "Armin! Yes, him. It'd fuck him up too. He's like an angel; we'd be stripping him of all innocence."
"Dude, I'm pretty sure a cute, 19-year-old college boy is getting at least some form of action. We all know who the right option is."
"Alright, fuck it. Fine. Colt. Are you happy?"
"Pervert," he mumbled.
"Like you have room to talk, now shut up and fuck me in this bathroom."
He pulled a joint from his pack of Havana Ovals. He held it between his lips and sparked it.
"I see you're not concerned about getting caught." He took a hit and then passed it to you.
You took a heavy drag off the joint. "I'm already going to get loudly fucked in a bathroom, I might as well be high."
You passed the joint back to him and he took a lengthy hit. He let the smoke drift from his mouth slowly. "I love that kind of attitude."
You plucked the joint from his fingers and took a hit.
"I recommend taking another. A long one."
"Because you're getting on your knees the second you exhale."
You took a huge hit and held it in for as long as you could to spite him. You let the smoke drift from your mouth rather than forcing it. Zeke grew tired of your bullshit and took the joint from you. He grabbed a chunk of your hair from the back of your scalp and pulled.
"Knees," he muttered.
"Rude." You did as you were told and he loosened his grip. He took a hit from the joint and blew the smoke towards the ceiling.
The ground wasn't sticky, but that did little to quell your disgust. You were always ashamed at the depths of depravity you allowed yourself to descend into.
You looked up and him asked, "Are you gonna be able to keep the door shut?"
"No. Undo my belt." He took another hit.
You gritted your teeth and started to fiddle with his belt. His rough hand rested on your head, softly caressing it. You knew such tenderness wouldn't last long.
"I know you can work faster than that."
You sighed dramatically. You quickly pulled his belt off and unbuttoned his jeans. You pulled them down and noted that he his black briefs were sullied with precum. You yanked them down and were greeted by his magnificently veiny cock. 7-inches, pink, and thiiiiiick. It was sight to behold. Drool pooled in your mouth. A small drop of it spilled from the corner of it. Zeke lifted your chin and wiped it away with his callused thumb.
"You're foul. What will I ever do with you?"
You gazed up at him. "Let me milk every drop of cum from your cock."
He smirked. "Are you done talking, pet?"
"I guess. I can't think of anything else to s—"
He grabbed the back of your head and forced his cock into your mouth. You lurched forward, using the bathroom stall door keep some semblance of balance. His thrusts were methodical. Never too deep as he didn't want you to gag on him, it was too early for that. You twirled your tongue around the head of cock.
"You're filthy, you know that? An utter degenerate."
He continued to plunge his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. You carefully breathed through your nose and tried to not cough on his length.
"You deserve to get caught. Everyone deserves to know what a disgusting slut you are."
You attempted a nod, but Zeke put his rugged palm on your forehead and shoved you off of his cock.
"I deserve to get caught."
His grey stared down at you hazy with lust. "And?" He took one last hit off the joint.
"And everyone deserves to know how gross I am."
He frowned and blew the smoke directly in your face. "Not quite, but close enough." He shoved his cock back down your throat.
The bathroom stall proved to be a poor source of balance so you rested your hands on his tense thighs. His muscles contracted with pleasure. You relaxed your throat, finally getting the entirety his cock in your mouth. You held it there for a few seconds before you felt the beginnings of a gag. You pushed his hips away from you. He pulled out and continued to jerk off as you coughed and caught your breath.
"I'm getting really close," he teased.
You smacked his hand away and continued with his blowjob. You spit in your hand and glided it up and down the shaft of his cock. You slid your tongue along his slit .
"Fuck," he said under his breath. He held your head in place and rammed his cock in your mouth. You grabbed onto his taut ass for leverage. His thrusts were becoming sloppy. He came hard, filling your throat with cum. You removed your mouth and continued to gently stroke Zeke's cock.
"I'm getting fucked, right?"
"No, I thought I'd just stand here in this bathroom with my dick out."
You rolled your eyes and pulled down your underwear. Luckily you were wearing a skirt (pleated, and rather short) so everything was simple. He led you out of the stall and shoved you against the sink. He put his hands up your shirt and pulled down your bra. He groped your breasts, rough fingers pinching your nipple.
"Ouch!" You yelped.
Zeke laughed and pinched harder. He slipped three of his dexterous fingers into your slick pussy. The slid in and out with ease. He pushed you harder against the sink; the basin dug into your spine. You winced. He took notice and put his hands under your ass and lifted you up.
"Lock your legs around me," he commanded. You did as you were told.
He slammed his cock deeper inside you. There was no tenderness in his thrusts. He just wanted you to moan his name louder than you'd moan anyone else's. But you resisted. The last thing you wanted to do was to bring any attention to yourself.
"Come on, pet," he practically begged.
You shook your head. You pictured those leering old men sipping their martinis. Zeke rubbed your clit with his thumb.
You were panting. He started kissing your neck. His soft flaxen beard tickling your neck was an interesting juxtaposition against his cock slamming into your cunt.
"Say my name or else I'll go find some cheap whore that will." His breath was hot on your neck. He pressed his thumb down hard on your clit.
"Fuck! Zeke!" Your legs tightened around his waist.
He placed his hand under your chin and forced you to make eye contact. His eyes were feral, darkened with desire. "Weak. You can do better than that."
You hugged him closer, fingernails digging into his chiseled back.
"Oh fuck, Zeke..." You felt your body growing warmer. Every cell in your body writhed with pleasure. You clung to his body as your orgasm intensified.
"I don't remember giving you permission," he whispered in your ear.
You attempted to hold back but it was too late. You moaned his name louder than even he anticipated.
He held his hand over your mouth, his cock still inside you, thrusting away.
"I don't remember saying you should start screaming either." His tone was anxious. "I never thought I'd say this but please shut the fuck up."
You glared at him, but remained silent and allowed him to continue fucking you with his engorged cock.
"Good girl." The words barely left his lips before he let out a hearty moan. He pulled out of you, precum leaking from it.
"Hurry, get on your knees."
You dropped down on them and opened your mouth. For the first time in years he missed, getting his cum all over your chin and down your neck. You were not impressed.
"You look so cute." He pinched your cheek and ordered you to stand up. He held your face in his hands and licked the cum off of it. Just as he went to lick your neck the bathroom door swung open.
It was one of the old men. Zeke didn't stop licking you. The poor fool stared at him who still had his semi-hard dick hanging out.
“I’m so sorry! Uhhh, you two have fun!” The guy ran out as quickly as he came in.
"I wonder if I could pay that guy to walk in on us whenever I want."
You went to search for your underwear and found them inside a toilet. You flushed them away. "No. We talked about this already."
"Colt would be traumatized if he walked in on this." Zeke finally put his dick away. You both stood at the sink washing your hands.
"Isn't that what you wanted?! Whatever, let's leave before we get kicked out for being absolutely disgusting. Not that I ever plan on coming back here."
You walked out of the bathroom and faced the geezers. You kept your head down but Zeke tried to high five the man who caught you. Needless to say, the man wanted nothing to do with him.
Zeke grabbed his backpack from under the table you two had been previously sitting at.
You both headed to the spiral staircase that led to the exit. It was one of those rickety metal ones that would be considered decorative in a world that made sense. Zeke offered you his elbow and you held on while you cautiously made your way down the stairs. You pushed through the heavy doors and were greeted by a rush of cold air.
You shivered. "Fuck! I was inside before the sun went down." You were woefully unprepared for the weather.
"Good thing I'm a genius then, huh?" He pulled out a sweatshirt from his backpack. "Arms up."
You raised your arms and he tugged the sweatshirt down onto your body.
"Thank you. I didn't think it would be so cold."
Zeke pointed up at the perfectly clear night sky. "Yeah, we're in for a cold one. Look."
You both let out a collective, "Whoa."
Zeke lightly slapped your ass. "Let's get moving. We need to shower."
"Come on, you don't wanna stare at something dumb ass beautiful?" If you had craned your neck back any further to see the stars you would have toppled over.
"I already have a beautiful dumb ass I can stare at whenever I want. Now come on. I was balls deep in a paternity dispute before I got here. You're going to love it, the baby daddy threw his gold tooth at his ex-wife. Jerry is pissed."
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Chuck Grant x OC Headcannons that need to get out of my head
Isabella Rodriguez came to the US when she was 15. She was born in Havana, Cuba and has a GIANT family (eight brothers, four sisters, twelve cousins, numerous aunts and uncles both by blood and non blood relations along with both sets of grandparents still alive)
She lived in Florida for a time with two of her mom’s sisters and was close with her cousin Manny (yes I have a headcannon that Manny from the Pacific is one of her cousins)
When the war broke out she enlisted right away as a nurse along with the others who came to be called “The Toccoa Girls” and became a member of Rose Co.
That’s when she met Grant
The boys were on their way to run up Curahee and they caught each other’s eyes for a split second
The entire run up he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He tried to keep her in his mind as Sobel taunted and berated them
Sobel sometimes questioned her capabilities as a nurse but like Indira and Mei, once she started cussing him out in another language he shut right up and never questioned her capabilities as a nurse ever again
Every now and again she’d pass by Grant but was afraid to say anything to him
Until one day
It was after their paratrooper training had been completed, he racked up the guts to speak to her. He asked her to dance and she said yes
The entire way to England, they couldn’t stop talking to each other, about their families, their friends, life back home etc.
She began to grow on him, especially in Aldbourne. The other nurses suspected that they had a thing for each other but hardly said a word
Then came the D-Day jump. She was terrified that Chuck had gone down in the planes or had landed too close to the enemy but when he turned up with the others, Izzy was relieved
She would write him notes when Easy traveled across France, Grant kept them in his front pocket or in his bag and often returned the gesture
Izzy was one of the nurses who helped take care of Tipper after Carentan. Chuck was amazed at how well she was able to keep her cool, but that night he saw another side of her that he really wished he didn’t have to see
He comforted her more than once, the first time was after she, Rory and Indira took care of Tipper, the second was during the crossing through Holland and the third was during Bastogne
It was at the church in Bastogne where they finally told each other how they felt
The rest of the war was utter hell, but Isabella and Grant’s memory of each other was what kept them going
Finally they got to Austria
When they came to the Eagle’s Nest, Izzy found a little something on the bed she had claimed
She opened it and it was a ring, when she turned around there was Chuck, standing in the door with a huge grin plastered across his face....she said yes, yes a thousand times yes
That night, they headed into town with Speirs and two others, Speirs had brought Ella with him and had planned on showing her around town
And that’s when it happened
A drunken soldier had shot Grant. Izzy and Ella jumped into action while the others had gone to find a doctor. Izzy was terrified but when the German doctor told her he would be fine
She stayed with him the whole time he recovered and made sure that he had everything he needed
After they got home, Chuck and Isabella got married, both sides of the family and almost all of Easy came
Izzy continued as a nurse, helping Grant to recover while working at one of the local hospitals
He was terrified when Isabella told him she was pregnant. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to hold their child because of his bad arm
But then their daughter was born
They named her Marisol for one of Isabella’s aunts and her middle name (Carlotta) for Chuck
She was really small but Chuck didn’t care because she was his little princess
Despite everything that he and Izzy went through during the war, his girls are the most important thing in the world to him
Because they are his greatest treasure and he’ll have them till the end of time
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The Blood In My Veins | Black Sails
Chapter 24: Talk About Us
For Chapter 23: No Promises Made click here.
Billy didn't care and spoke up. "A bit of turmoil since you left. But it's under control now." Flint watched the imprisoned men and took in a deep breath without taking his eyes of the men.
"Release those men."
"I know what happened and I don't care. I'll not hold pirates prisoner on this ship, not after today."
I hadn't seen Charles in a few days, he had told me he had to leave to open sea again to hunt a ship which Jack had asked for. It had been a while since all the problems in Charles Town and the way we made it disappear into smoke and fire. Everything was finally normal for once and it was an amazing feeling. Jack and Anne had conquered the gold with his crew and it laid safely in the fortress, well, not truly safe. It had to be repaired and it wasn't hurrying up. All the men that were hired for the task thought they could boss over themselves and demanded more wages every time they set foot into the fort.
Flint was gone as well, the reason I didn't know myself. I don't even believe it was necessary what they were doing, but it was his call. And I... I had been on ocean around Havana for a few days before Charles left, tracking down ships as well. Charles first didn't let me go, but eventually by explaining to him that me and my crew needed to uphold my reputation and strike the fear into heart of the world, he finally gave me his permission to leave Nassau for a couple of weeks. I had sank a Galleon and a few Dutch Fleurs to the bottom of the sea and stole their cargo. But two weeks had past and my crew and I decided that it was enough to return to Nassau.
When I got back Charles and I.... we had a good time. And a week of having rest together was relaxing to both of us, only, like I said, we were separated again because of the news Jack had gave Charles. I had stood onto the beach smiling at Charles while he sat sail to wherever he was meant to go with me standing till sundown onto the white beach. Jack had asked me for dinner so I wasn't alone and I had agreed not wanting to turn him down. It was actually really nice to be around friends again and we had caught up a lot of talking. He even offered me a place to sleep too, staying in a tent wasn't safe for me anymore.
And definitely not if people secretly had found out about the child. You see, people had a big hatred towards me and Charles. Charles had enemies and so did I. People knowing his weakness would be a way to tear him down and his title, but it would harm me as well. Therefore it wasn't a smart move to be stubborn and stay in my tent but just take the offer and sleep in a room in Jack's 'house'. Every night I slept horrible, the only thing I heard were people banging and moaning on each side of my walls and it all echoed through my room with the echoing making the sounds even louder.
I tried different times on the day to fall asleep, but the only time it was the most quiet was the afternoon and even then a lot of people were fucking. Irritated I jumped out of bed and got dressed to walk down the stairs, making me run into Jack and Anne debating about a topic I did not hear so I just greeted them. While pushing myself past a couple of people who were making out on the stairs, I heard a very familiar voice and it didn't sound very pleasant as it usual was.
Charles walked with rage onto the stairs and shoulder bumped me, not even noticing that I was the one standing there. I shook my head and tried to stay calm, it wasn't his intention to upset me and his anger wasn't towards me, but towards his friend. It was the best to just let him have his conversation with Jack and ask it afterwards. Anne and I grew closer since I took a room here, which made her sign at me to come to Jack's 'office' as well. Hurried saying something when I didn't make a movement.
"He's your lover, I think he calms down a bit when he does notice you."
I took in a breath and nodded, running up the stairs and immediately grabbed the door handle to close the door behind Anne and me. I saw a black sofa standing into the corner of the room and it looked like it was luring me, especially when the cramps started to hit me. I sat down onto the sofa and stretched my legs before laying down. My hazel eyes met Charles his blue eyes and saw that Charles was glaring down at me, a glance of concern in his eyes. I nodded making clear to him that everything was okay and that he didn't have to pay attention to me.
"Please let me explain." Charles snapped out of his thoughts and focused on Jack.
"What is there to explain? You couldn't figure out how to repair the fort, so you lured me into capturing a ship full of slaves to do the job."
My head shot upright and my eyes went big. Fuck did Jack do? No wonder Charles was so devastated and full of rage. Though, after Charles had seen me he had lowered his voice and it was pretty good self control of him not to just mess up Jack's face. They were good friends after all.
"It was the first solid lead on a slaver we'd had in weeks. I needed someone who I could be certain would win her."
"So you lied to me about it. What the fuck made you think I would just hand them over to you, knowing what you know about me... and Naida."
Jack clearly seemed upset and I understood his situation, but it was hard to not choose a side. What Jack did was wrong and I had stood in the same chains as the slaves outside do today which made it hard to not side with Charles. It was the best to just shut my mouth and talk about it with Charles alone. Slowly, I could see Jack in the corner of my eye raising from the desk to face Charles, placing his hands on the desk.
"The four of us stood in this room- you, Naida, Flint and I- and we agreed that the fort's restoration was critical to Nassau's security-."
"We agreed you would hire me to restore it." Jack started to raise his voice, but also seemed to suppress his lack of knowledge, knowing himself it was wrong.
"I TRIED THAT!"
"WELL, YOU'RE GOING TO NEED TO TRY HARDER!"
"HOW? I OFFERED THE MEN EXORBITANT WAGES TO DO THE WORK. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY? 'YOU CAN AFFORD MORE. WE WANT DOUBLE THAT.' All right double it, it's a deal. Fuck it. You know what they say then? 'You can't tell us what to do. We're free men. We'll work when we please.' Would you like to take a guess how that is going? It's five different crews, it's hundreds of men, untold thousands of wages and I swear to god, I think that hole in the wall is bigger now THAN WHEN WE STARTED."
Jack stumbled back and had let himself fall into his chair. I had never seen him so defeated and upset with himself, but I had never seen Charles like this either. Anne on the other hand, didn't seem to care that much and sat down next to me, watching the conversation as close as possible too. Charles started to lower his voice at Jack and narrowed his eyes in annoyance.
"I stood between you and him, Jack. When Flint was ready to wage war against you over the gold, I was the one who said you would manage it as well as anyone could. For the good of this place, I was the one who said you could be trusted."
"Why!? Why did you stand behind me in that moment? I'll tell you why. Because you and I had been through enough shit for you to know that I would do the same for you. That I have done the same for you, and would again without hesitation."
Jack stood up and leaned over the desk.
"I made a commitment to you, WITH YOU, to restore this place, to make it strong again. I see no other way to have it done. And I will have it done. I would move heaven to earth to have it done because I refuse to let you down!" Silent hit the room for the first time in a while and Anne stood up to stand behind Charles, watching Jack. Charles sighed and calmed down a bit, lowering his head as he did so. Slowly Charles approached the sofa I was still laying on and lifted my head to sit down, making me lay down my head on his lap. Nothing was said as he stroked a piece hair out of my face.
"I knew this would be difficult for you, so I kept it from you. Please know that I meant no slight by it. No lack of respect or friendship. It's quite te opposite."
Charles faced Jack and closed his eyes, nodding slightly at him. The whole time we were silent and Anne had left the room as well as Jack. The people downstairs really seemed to need him that hard to interrupt the conversation which left Charles and me alone in the room.
"For what." I raised my eyebrow at him, waiting for him to speak further.
"I didn't know it was you on the stairs before I ran into you."
"It's okay." I pushed myself up and trailed my hands up his shoulders into his neck. "You were filled with rage."
"I can make it up to you." I chuckled slightly as he pushed me further into his lap with a big smirk on his face.
"But not now. I don't think my body can handle you right now. Those people downstairs are fucking all day long. I bet you know how bad I sleep without you, so imagine that you aren't here and I hear that day and night."
I pointed to the walls, pointing out to the sounds you could even hear now from the bed banging against the wall on the right of us two.
"Why haven't you asked them to fuck off?"
"You and I fucked a lot too and I haven't heard people complain about us... have you?"
"No, but I have told a lot of people to fuck off."
I laughed at Charles slightly punching his chest before laying my forehead on his. "Pretty rough."
"Well, little one, that's me."
Way down We Go
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List of books from all around the globe
In alphabetical order according to the Polish names of the countries.
· Water: New Short Story Fiction from Africa: An Anthology - Short Story Day Africa
· The Sexual Life of an Islamist in Paris - Leila Marouane
· The Earthquake - Tahar Wattar
· The Star of Algiers - Aziz Chouaki
· The Obstinate Snail - Rachid Boudjedra
· Tomboy - Nina Bouraoui
· The Tongue’s Blood Does Not Run Dry - Assia Djebar
· Do You Hear in the Mountains and other stories - Maïssa Bey
· What the Day Owes the Night - Yasmina Khadra
· The Meursault Investigation - Kamel Daoud
· The Return - Dulce Maria Cardoso
· Gen - Agnes Agboton
· Maru - Bessie Head
· Freedom of the City, being a woman in Burkina Faso - Monique Ilboudo
· Baho! - Roland Rugero
· Weep Not, Refugee - Marie-Therese Toyi
· On the Winds of the Hazards of Life - Salma Khalil Alio
Democratic Republic of Congo
· The Girl with Seven Names - Hyeonseo Lee
· How Dare the Sun Rise - Sandra Uwiringiyimana
· Les Enfants du Khat - Mouna-Hodan Ahmed
· Woman at Point Zero - Nawal el Saadawi
· The Queue - Basma Abdel Aziz
· The Hidden Face of Eve - Nawal el Saadawi
· Blue Aubergine - Miral al-Tahawy
· My Fathers’ Daughter - Hannah Pool
· Weeding the Flowerbeds - Sarah Mkhonza
· The Shadow King - Maaza Mengiste
· The Moonlight Tales - Edna Merey-Apinda
· Stories from the Gambia - Sally Sadie Singhateh
· Droga do domu - Yaa Gyasi
· Changes: A Love Story - Ama Ata Aidoo
· Humiliated Women - Koumanthio Zeinab Diallo
· In Which Language to Write - Odete Semedo
· La Bastarda - Trifonia Melibea Obono
· Behold the Dreamers - Imbolo Mbue
· Dust - Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor
· Petals of Blood - Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o
· Le Journal de Maya - Coralie Frei
Republic of Congo
· The Lights of Pointe-Noire - Alain Mabanckou
· Two Poems - Marie-Leontine Tsibinda
· Tomorrow I'll Be Twenty - Alain Mabanckou
· Singing Away the Hunger - Mpho ‘M’atsepo Nthunya
· The House at Sugar Beach - Helene Cooper
· Melting Sun - Laila Neihoum
· The Slave Yards - Najwa Bin Shatwan
· One Times Two - Cyprienne Toazara
· I Still Miss Him - Walije Gondwe
· Poèmusiques - Fatoumata Keita
· The Happy Marriage - Tahar Ben Jelloun
· Whitefly - Abdelilah Hamdouchi
· The Curious Case of Dassoukine’s Trousers - Fouad Laroui
· Lullaby - Leila Slimani
· Sex and Lies - Leila Slimani
· The Year of the Elephant - Leila Abouzeid
· The Moor's Account - Laila Lalami
· Poetry and I - Mbarka Mint al-Barra
· Eve Out of Her Ruins - Ananda Devi
· The First Wife - Paulina Chiziane
· The Purple Violet of Oshaantu - Neshani Andreas
· Le Déserteur - Hélène Kaziende
· And After Many Days - Jowhor Ile
· Blackass - A. Igoni Barrett
· The Face: Cartography of the Void - Chris Abani
· Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe
· What Is Not Yours In Not Yours - Helen Oyeyemi
· Collected Poems - Gabriel Okara
· Born on a Tuesday - Elnathan John
· Purple Hibiscus - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
· Akata Witch - Nnedi Okorafor
· Half of a Yellow Sun - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
· Stay with Me - Ayobami Adebayo
· The Opposite House - Helen Oyeyemi
· Walking with Shadows - Jude Dibia
· Under the Udala Trees - Chinelo Okparanta
· The Secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives - Lola Shoneyin
· Foreign Gods, Inc - Okey Ndibe
· Butterfly Fish - Irenosen Okojie
· Like A Mule Bringing Ice-Cream to the Sun - Sarah Ladipo Manyinka
· Love is Power Or Something Like That - A. Igoni Barrett
· The Mad House - TJ Benson
· Rachel’s Blue - Zakes Mda
· Tales of the Metric System - Imraan Coovadia
· The Reactive - Masande Ntshanga
· Soweto Stories - Miriam Tlali
· Disgrace - John Maxwell Coetzee
· London Cape Town Joburg - Zukiswa Wanner
· The Fatuous State of Severity - Phumlani Pikoli
· Azanian Bridges - Nick Wood
· Taty Went West - Nikhil Singh
Cantral African Republic
· The Magic Doll - Adrienne Yabouza
· The Madwoman of Serrano - Dina Salustio
· The Barefoot Woman - Scholastique Mukasonga
· Our Lady of the Nile - Scholastique Mukasonga
· Kaveena - Boubacar Boris Diop
· Ladivine - Marie NDiaye
· So Long a Letter - Mariama Ba
· The Cheffe: A Cook’s Novel - Marie Ndiaye
· Labour of Love - Marie Flora Ben David Nourrice
· The Memory of Love - Aminatta Forna
· Infidel - Ayaan Hirsi Ali
· Adua - Igiaba Scego
· The Kindness of Enemies - Leila Aboulela
· Elsewhere Home - Leila Aboulela
· Withered Flowers - Stella Gitano
· Things Were Lost in Our Vaginas - Nyachiro Lydia Kasese
· Do They Hear You When You Cry - Fauziya Kassindja & Layli Miller Bashir
· Time’s Running Out for Scheherezade - Fawzia Zouari
· The Ardent Swarm - Yamen Manai
· 100 Days - Juliane Okot Bitek
· Kintu - Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi
· Aya de Yopougon - Marguerite Abouet & Clement Oubrerie
Sao Tome and Principe
· Petty Tyrants - Conceição Lima
· The Old Drift - Namwali Serpell
· The Book of Memory - Petina Gappah
· The Maestro, the Magistrate & the Mathematician - Tendai Huchu
· Nervous Conditions - Tsitsi Dangarembga
· The Hairdresser of Harare - Tendai Huchu
· Exquisite Corpse - Agustina Bazterrica
· Little Eyes - Samanta Schweblin
· Comemadre - Roque Larraquy
· The Aleph - Jorge Luis Borges
· The German Room - Carla Maliandi
· The Wind That Lays Waste - Selva Almada
· Feebleminded - Ariana Harwicz
· The Wind that Lays Waste - Selva Almada
· Die, My Love - Ariana Harwicz
· 77 - Guillermo Saccomanno
· Hopscotch - Julio Cortázar
· Things We Lost in the Fire - Mariana Enriquez
· Our Dead World - Liliana Colanzi
· The Collector of Leftover Souls: Field Notes on Brazil’s Everyday Insurrections - Eliane Brum
· Conectadas - Clara Alves
· Agua Viva - Clarice Lispector
· Stubborn Archivist - Yara Rodrigues Fowler
· The Passion According to G.H. - Clarice Lispector
· Gabriela, Clove and Cinnamon - Jorge Amado
· Nowhere People - Paulo Scott
· A Long Petal of the Sea - Isabel Allende
· Space Invaders - Nona Fernandez
· Seeing Red - Lina Meruane
· Cockfight - Maria Fernanda Ampuero
· Shame on Me: An Anatomy of Race and Belonging - Tessa McWatt
· Miłość w czasach zarazy - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
· The Bitch - Pilar Quintana
· Fish Soup - Margarita Garcia Robayo
· Our Father is Tired - Susy Delgado
· The Bad Girl - Mario Vargas Llosa
· Letters to a Young Novelist - Mario Vargas Llosa
· Sexographies - Gabriela Wiener
· The Cost of Sugar - Cynthia McLeod
· Cantoras - Carolina de Robertis
· A Dream Come True - Juan Carlos Onetti
· Southpaw - Lisa St Aubin de Teran
· It Would Be Night in Caracas - Karina Sainz Borgo
Antigua and Barbuda
· Annie John - Jamaica Kincaid
· Back to Life - Wendy Coakley Thompson
· Redemption in Indigo - Karen Lord
· Time and River - Zee Edgell
· Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys
· In the Time of the Butterflies - Julia Alvarez
· Tentacle - Rita Indiana
· The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao - Junot Diaz
· Lady in a Boat - Merle Collins
· Knitting the Fog - Claudia D. Hernandez
· Love, Anger, Madness - Marie Vieux-Chauvet
· Kraj bez kapelusza - Dany LaFerrière
· Niedziela, 4 stycznia - Lyonel Trouillot
· Nobody Wanted Me - Soledad Castillo
· The True History of Paradise - Margaret Cezair-Thompson
· Amiable with Big Teeth - Claude McKay
· The Book of Night Women - Marlon James
· Small Beauty - jia qing wilson-yang
· Oryx and Crake - Margaret Atwood
· From Where The Voice Is Born - Carmen Naranjo
· Revolution Sunday - Wendy Guerra
· Havana Year Zero - Karla Suarez
· Hurricane Season - Fernanda Melchor
· Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in Forty Questions - Valeria Luiselii
· The Iliac Crest - Cristina Rivera Garza
· Umami - Laia Jufresa
· The Country Under My Skin - Gioconda Belli
· The Book of Unknown Americans - Cristina Henriquez
Saint Kitts and Nevis
· As Good as Gold - Kathryn Bertine
· History Shelves - Sassy Ross
Saint Vincent and Grenadines
· Journal of a Superfluous Woman - I.R. King
· Luisa in Realityland - Claribel Alegria
· Freedom Is a Constant Struggle: Ferguson, Palestine, and the Foundations of a Movement - Angela Y. Davis
Trinidad and Tobago
· Crick Crack Monkey - Merle Hodge
· Raising My Voice - Malalai Joya
· The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
· And The Mountains Echoed - Khaled Hosseini
· Sarab - Raja Alem
· Girls of Riyadh - Rajaa Alsanea
· My Grandmother: A Memoir - Fethiye Cetin
· Days in the Caucasus - Banine
· Bahrain’s Uprising - ed. Ala’a Shehabi & Marc Owen Jones
· I Am Yours - Reema Zaman
· The Circle of Karma - Kunzang Choden
· Moments of Nil - Flora Tavu
· The Wandering Earth - Liu Cixin
· Madame Mao - Anchee Min
· Vertical Motion - Can Xue
· China Dream - Ma Jian
· Three Sisters - Bi Feiyu
· The Boat to Redemption - Su Tong
· Wolf Totem - Lu Jiamin
· Big Sister, Little Sister, Red Sister: Three Women at the Heart of Twentieth-Century China - Jung Chang
· Strange Beasts of China - Yan Ge
· Change - Mo Yan
· Grass Soup - Zhang Xianling
· Not Written Words - Xixi
· Daughter of the River - Hong Ying
· Beyond Exemplar Tales - ed. Joan Judge & Hu Ying
· Three Sisters - Bi Feiyu
· Twenty Fragments of a Ravenous Youth - Xiaolu Guo
· Beijing Woman - Wang Yuan
· The Farm - Joanne Ramos
· When the Elephants Dance - Tess Uriza Holthe
· Ilustrado - Miguel Syjuco
· Eating Fire and Drinking Water - Arlene J. Chai
· State of War - Ninotchka Rosca
· In the Country - Mia Alvar
· Insurrecto - Gina Apostol
· Crying Mountain - Criselda Yabes
· Translating Feminisms - Pa-Liwanag
· Lola’s House - M. Evelina Galang
· Pinay Guerillas - Stacey Anne Baterina Salinas
· Our Founding Mothers: Lest We Forget - Quennie Ann J. Palafox (esej)
· Dead Stars - Paz Marquez Benitez
· Woman with Horns and Other Stories - Cecilia Manguerra Brainard
· The Eight Life - Nino Haratischwili
· One More Year - Sana Krasikov
· Everybody Dies in the Novel - Beqa Adamashvili
· The Story of a Goat - Perumal Murugan
· One Part Woman - Perumal Murugan
· Abandon - Sangeeta Bandyopadhyay
· The Glass Palace - Amitav Ghosh
· The White Tiger - Aravind Adiga
· Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
· Chronicle of a Corpse Bearer - Cyrus Mistry
· Goat Days - Benyamin
· Ghachar Ghochar - Vivek Shanbhag
· Latitudes of Longing - Shubhangi Swarup
· One Part Woman - Perumal Murugan
· A Fistful of Mustard Seeds - F. Santhosh Kumar
· Saman - Ayu Utami
· The Original Dream - Nukila Amal
· The Question of Red - Laksmi Pamuntjak
· Indigenous Species - Khairani Barokka
· Paper Boats - Dee Lestari
· Home - Leila Chudori
· Bound - Okky Madasari
· From Now on Everything Will Be Different - Eliza Vitri Handayani
· Chinese Whispers - Rani Pramesti
· The Beekeeper: Rescuing the Stolen Women of Iraq - Dunya Mikhail
· The Book of Collateral Damage - Sinan Antoon
· Persepolis - Marjane Satrapi
· The Enlightenment of Greengage Tree - Shokoofeh Azar
· Disoriental - Negar Djavadi
· Reading Lolita in Tehran - Azar Nafisi
· Drinking the Sea at Gaza: Days and Nights Under Siege - Amira Hass
· Sapiens - Yuval Noah Harari
· The Housekeeper and the Professor - Yoko Ogawa
· 1Q84 - Haruki Murakami
· Convenience Store Woman - Sayaka Murata
· The Miracles of the Namiya General Store - Keigo Higashino
· Kitchen - Banana Yoshimoto
· Out - Natsuo Kirino
· The Sound of the Mountain - Yasunari Kawabata
· The Temple of the Golden Pavilion - Yukio Mishima
· Earthlings - Sayaka Murata
· Breast and Eggs - Mieko Kawakami
· Tokyo Ueno Station - Yu Miri
· The Memory Police - Yoko Ogawa
· The Emissary - Yoko Tawada
· Battle Royale - Koushun Takami
· In Praise of Shadows - Jun’ichirou Tanizaki
· Jestem kotem - Soseki Natsume
· Parade - Hiromi Kawakami
· Territory of Light - Yukio Tsushima
· An Echo of Heaven - Kenzaburō Ōe
· Almost Transparent Blue - Ryu Murakami
· Death in Midsummer and other stories - Yukio Mishima
· The Diving Pool: Three Novellas - Yoko Ogawa
· Kokoro - Natsume Soseki
· Seven Japanese Tales - Jun’ichiro Tanizaki
· Snow Country - Yasunari Kawabata
· The Tale of Genji - Murasaki Shikibu
· The Waiting Years - Fumiko Enchi
· Confessions of a Mask - Yukio Mishima
· Lonely Castle in the Mirror - Mizuki Tsujimura
· Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea - Yukio Mishima
· The Aosawa Murders - Riku Onda
· In the Miso Soup - Ryo Murakami
· There’s No Such Thing as an Easy Job - Kikuko Tsumura
· Before the Coffee Gets Cold. Tales from the Cafe - Toshikazu Kawaguchi
· Penance - Kanae Minato
· Norwegian Wood - Haruki Murakami
· Strange Weather in Tokyo - Hirami Kawakami
· Lonely Castle in the Mirror - Mizuki Tsujimura
· Kot, który spadł z nieba - Takashi Hiraide
· The Inugami Curse - Seishi Yokomizo
· The Hole - Hiroko Oyamada
· Memoirs of a Polar Bear - Yoko Tawada
· Woman on the Other Shore - Mitsuyo Kakuta
· The Waiting Years - Fumiko Enchi
· Inheritance from Mother - Minae Mizumura
· A Thousand Strands of Black Hair - Seiko Tanabe
· Scream from the Shadows - Setsu Shigematsu
· Black Box - Shiori Ito
· Our Women on the Ground - ed. Zahra Hankir
· Willow Trees Don’t Weep - Fadia Faquir
· Year of the Rabbit - Tian Veasna
· First They Killed My Father - Loung Ung
· When Broken Glass Floats: Growing Up Under the Khmer Rouge - Chanrithy Him
· Fiery Curses - Noura Mohammad Faraj
· The School - Zaure Batayeva
· An Orange Lemon - Alla Pyatibratova
· The Vegetarian - Han Kang
· The Court Dancer - Shin Kyung-Sook
· Ptak - Jeonghui Oh
· Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 - Cho Nam-Joo
· Our Twisted Hero - Yi Munyol
· The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly - Hwang Sun-mi
· The Old Garden - Hwang Sok-yong
· Lost Names: Scenes from a Korean Boyhood - Richard E. Kim
· I Have the Right to Destroy Myself - Kim Young-ha
· Pachinko - Min Jin Lee
· Please Look After Mom - Shin Kyung-sook
· Untold Night and Day - Bae Suah
· Who Ate Up All the Shinga? - Park Wan-Suh
· Unexpected Vanilla - Lee Hyemi
· Five Preludes & A Fugue - Cheon Heerahn
· The Future of Silence. Fiction by Korean Women
· One Left - Kim Soom
· Mannequin - Ch’oe Yun
· Mina - Kim Sagwa
· Shoko’s Smile - Choi Eunyoung
· Practicing Feminism in South Korea - Kyungja Jung
· The Girl with Seven Names - Hyeonseo Lee
· Friend - Paek Nam-nyong
· Rewriting Revolution - Immanuel Kim
· Stars Between the Sun and Moon - Lucia Jang & Susan McClelland
· The Accusation - Bandi
· In Order to Live - Yeonmi Park & MaryAnne Vollers
· The Ringing Body - Fatima Yousef al-Ali
· How to Pronounce Knife - Souvankham Thammavongsa
· Mother’s Beloved: Stories from Laos - Outhine Bounyavong
· Ports of Call - Amin Maalouf
· Always Coca-Cola - Alexandra Chreiteh
· I Remember Beirut - Zeina Abirached
· Perfume - Aminath Neena
· The Garden of Evening Mists - Tan Twan Eng
· The Rice Mother - Rani Manicka
· Interlok - Abdullah Hussain
· The Kampung Boy - Lat
· Lake Like a Mirror - Sok Fong Ho
· The Night Tiger - Yangsze Choo
· Evening is the Whole Day - Preeta Samarasan
· Though I Get Home - Yz Chin
· Once We Were There - Bernice Chauly
· Feminism and the Women’s Movement in Malaysia - Cecilia Ng, Maznah Mohamad, Tan Beng Hui
· The Woman Who Breathed Two Worlds - Selina Siakchin Yoke
· Bedtime Stories from the Dead of Night - Julya Oui
· The Professor - Faisal Tehrani
· Iban Dream - Golda Mowe
· Unveiling Choice - Maryam Lee
· Smile as They Bow - Nu Nu Yi
· The Green Eyed Lama - Oyungerel Tsedevdamba & Jeffrey L. Falt
· Elberel - ed. Jantsangiyn Bat-Ireedui & Kazuyuki Okada
· Bitter Tears on New Year’s Eve - D. Natsagdorj
· Night - Sulochana Manandhar
· Palpasa Cafe - Narayan Wagle
· Celestial Bodies - Jokha Alharthi
· The Turtle of Oman - Naomi Shihab Nye
· Cracking India - Bapsi Sidhwa
· Minor Detail - Adania Shibli
· The Sea Cloak - Nayrouz Qarmout
· In the Presence of Absence - Mahmoud Darwish
· The Crime and Punishment- Fiodor Dostojewski
· Przyszło nam tu żyć. Reportaże z Rosji - Jelena Kostiuczenko
· Aetherial Worlds - Tatyana Tolstaya
· Bride and Groom - Alisa Ganieva
· Stalingrad - Vasily Grossman
· One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich - Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
· Dead Souls - Nikolai Gogol
· Ponti - Sharlene Teo
· How We Disappeared - Jing-Jing Lee
· A Disobedient Girl - Ru Freeman
· Death is Hard Work - Khaled Khalifa
· Farewell, Damascus - Ghada Samman
· The City Where Dreams Come True - Gulsifat Shahidi
· Bright - Duanwad Pimwana
· Wedding in Autumn And Other Stories - Shih Chiung-Yu
· Stories of the Sahara - Sanmao
· Mulberry and Peach - Hualing Nieh
· A Thousand Moons on a Thousand Rivers - Tsering Woeser
· Last Words from Montmarte - Qiu Miaojin
· The Great Flowing River - Chi Pang-Yuan
· Salsa - Hsia Yu
· Contemporary Taiwanese Women Writers - ed. Jonathan Stalling et al.
· The Membranes - Chi Ta-Wei
· From Timor Leste to Australia - ed. Jan Trezise
· Madonna in a Fur Coat - Sabahattin Ali
· 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in this Strange World - Elif Shafak
· The Atlas of Misty Continents - Ihsan Oktay Anar
· The White Castle - Orhan Pamuk
· Every Fire You Tend - Sema Kaygusuz
· Aha - Birgül Oğuz
· Labyrinth - Burhan Sönmez
· Turcja. Obłęd i melancholia - Ece Temelkuran
· Exile - Çiler İlhan
· I Have Come Through Torments Within These Walls - Annasoltan Kekilova
· Dalai Lama, My Son - Diki Tsering
· The Dancer from Khiva - Bibish
· Paradise of the Blind - Duong Thu Huong
· The Boat - Nam Le
United Arab Emirates
· That Other Me - Maha Gargash
· The Country Where No One Ever Dies - Ornela Vorpsi
· Othello, The Moor of Vlora - Ben Blushi
· The Gravedigger’s Son - Teresa Colom
· Trans - Juliet Jacques
· The Quickening Maze - Adam Foulds
· The World of Yesterday - Stefan Zweig
· The Empress and the Cake - Linda Stift
· Frozen Time - Anna Kim
· Once I Must Have Trodden Soft Grass - Carolina Schutti
· Mazel tow. Jak zostałam korepetytorką w domu ortodoksyjnych Żydów - J.S. Margot
· Thirty Days - Annelies Verbeke
· The Map of Regrets - Nathalie Skowronek
· Up to Date - Christophe van Gerrewey
· The Unwomanly Face of War - Svetlana Alexievich
Bosnia and Herzegovina
· Zlata’s Diary - Zlata Filipovic
· In the Town of Joy and Peace - Zdravka Evtimova
· The Ministry of Pain - Dubravka Ugresic
· EEG - Daša Drndić
· Death Customs - Constantia Soteriou
· An Album of Stories - Antonis Georgiou
· Time - Dragana Tripković
· Arcueil - Aleksandar Bečanović
· The Son - Andrej Nikolaidis
· Immortality - Milan Kundera
· A Kingdom of Souls - Daniela Hodrova
· The Lake - Bianca Bellová
· The Unbearable Lightness of Being - Milan Kundera
· When Death Takes Something from You Give It Back - Naja Marie Aidt
· Og så drukner jeg - Ditte Wiese
· Mirror, Shoulder, Signal - Dorthe Nors
· The Least Resistance - Adda Djørup
· Vivian - Christina Hesselholdt
· At the Manor, or Jump into the Fire - Maarja Kangro
· Crossing - Pajtim Statovci
· The Summer Book - Tove Jansson
· Things That Fall from the Sky - Selja Ahava
· My Cat Yugoslavia - Pajtim Statovici
· Oscar and the Lady in Pink - Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt
· The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupery
· Night Flight - Antoine de Saint-Exupery
· Papillon - Henri Charriere
· Lent dehors - Philippe Djian
· Those Without Shadows - Francoise Sagan
· Animalia - Jean-Baptiste Del Amo
· Vernon Subutex 1 - Virginie Despentes
· The Boy - Marcus Malte
· The Cave Teenager - Emmanuelle Pagano
· Winter in Sokcho - Elisa Shua Dusapin
· A Girl’s Story - Annie Ernaux
· Consent - Vanessa Springora
· Pig Tales - Marie Darrieussecq
· Antygona - Sofokles
· Król Edyp - Sofokles
· Zigzag Through the Bitter-Orange Trees - Ersi Sotiropoulos
· Good Will Come From The Sea - Christos Ikonomou
· Crimson - Niviaq Korneliussen
· Patria (Homeland) - Fernando Aramburu
· The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
· The Angel’s Game - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
· The Prince of Mist - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
· The Hive - Camilo Jose Cela
· Brief Theory of Travel and the Desert - Cristian Crusat Schretzmeijer
· Ordesa - Manuel Viles
· The Diary of a Young Girl - Anne Frank
· The Discomfort of Evening - Marieke Lucas Rijneveld
· The Black Lake - Hella Haasse
· Normal People - Sally Rooney
· The Third Policeman - Flann O’Brien
· A Ghost in the Throat - Doireann Ni Ghriofa
· This Hostel Life - Melatu Uche Okorie
· Women and the Irish Revolution - Linda Connolly
· Republic of Shame - Caelainn Hogan
· Thin Places - Kerri Ni Dochartaigh
· Show Them A Good Time - Nicole Flattery
· Moving into the Space Cleared by Our Mothers - Mary Dorcey
· People Like Me - Lynn Ruane
· The Greenhouse - Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir
· Brother in Ice - Alicia Kopf
· Cień eunucha (L'ombra de l'eunuc) - Jaume Cabre
· Call Me by My Name: Poetry from Kosova - Flora Brovina
· Man wortet sich die Orte selbst - Iren Nigg
· The Dark Muse - Armin Öhri
· Shadows on the Tundra - Dalia Grinkevičiutė
· Tonight I Shall Sleep by the Wall - Giedra Radvilavičiūtė
· Tentative - Anna Leader
· Soviet Milk - Nora Ikstena
· A Spare Life - Lidija Dimkovska
· Running Commentary - Daphne Caruana Galizia
· Selected Poems - Paula Erizanu
· My Book of Flowers - Princess Grace of Monaco
· The Hidden Life of Trees - Peter Wohlleben
· Perfume - Patrick Suskind
· The Sorrows of Young Werther - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
· The Century of the Surgeon - Jurgen Thorwald
· Siddharta - Hermann Hesse
· Tyll - Daniel Kehlmann
· High as the Waters - Anja Kampmann
· Go Went Gone - Jenny Erpenbeck
· On The End of Loneliness - Benedict Wells
· Malina - Ingeborg Bachmann
· The Drinker - Hans Fallada
· The Bookseller of Kabul - Asne Seierstad
· Will and Testament - Vigdis Hjorth
· Love - Hanne Ørstavik
· Wait, Blink: A Perfect Picture of Inner Life - Gunnhild Øyehaug
· Encirclement - Carl Frode Tiller
· The History of Bees - Maja Lunde
· Drive Your Plow over the Bones of the Dead - Olga Tokarczuk
· Wyznania gorszycielki (Confessions of a Scandalous Woman) - Irena Krzywicka
· Now and at the Hour of Our Death - Susana Moreira Marques
· The Kokoschka’s Doll - Afonso Cruz
· Les Anges, Violeta - Dulce Maria Cardoso
· Blindness - José Saramago
· The Appointment - Herta Muller
· The Ages of the Game. Citadel Street - Claudiu M. Florian
· For Two Thousand Years - Mihail Sebastian
· The Tram Journey - Milena Ercolani
· Dogs and Others - Biljana Jovanovic
· The Chasm - Darko Tuševljaković
· Legenda o języku - Pavol Rankov
· Przez ucho igielne (sploty) - Ján Púček
· Opowieść o rzeczywistym człowieku - Pavel Vilikovsky
· The Equestrienne - Ursula Kovalyk
· Angel of Oblivion - Maja Haderlap
· Sweet Days of Discipline - Fleur Jaeggy
· Millennium trilogy - Stieg Larsson
· Fjallbaka series - Camilla Lackberg
· The Silver Road - Stina Jackson
· The Helios Disaster - Linda Bostrom Knausgard
· The Family Clause - Jonas Hassen Khemiri
· Welcome to America - Linda Boström Knausgård
· The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared - Jonas Jonasson
· A Fortune Foretold - Agneta Pleijel
· Fieldwork in Ukrainian Sex - Oksana Zabuzhko
· The Welsh Language: A History - Janet Davies
· Miasto uśpionych kobiet - Gyula Krudy
· Traveler and the Moonlight - Antal Szerb
· Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming - László Krasznahorkai
· The Door - Magda Szabo
· There Is None, Nor Let There Be - Edina Szvoren
· The Lying Life of Adult - Elena Ferrante
· Trick - Domenico Starnone
· Invisible Cities - Italo Calvino
· Arturo’s Island - Elsa Morante
· A Girl Returned - Donatella Di Pietrantonio
· Beyond Babylon - Igiaba Scego
· Happiness, as Such - Natalia Ginzburg
· The Dry Heart - Natalia Ginzburg
· Three O'Clock in the Morning - Gianrico Carofiglio
· The Book Thief - Markus Zusak
· The Messenger - Markus Zusak
· Where the Streets Had a Name - Randa Abdel-Fattah
· Songspirals: Sharing Women’s Wisdom of Country through Songlines - Gay’wu Group of Women
· Kaluti - Shazia Usman
· Teaote and the Wall - Marita Davies
· My Urohs - Emelihter Kihleng
· A Beautiful Prayer - Joanne Ekamdeiya Gobure
· The Cleaner - Paul Cleave
· Collected Stories - Patricia Grace
· Everything Is Illuminated - Eleanor Catton
· The Palauan Perspectives - Hermana Ramarui
· My Walk to Equality: Essays, Stories & Poetry by Papua New Guinean Women
· Where We Once Belonged - Sia Fiegiel
· This is My Story of Resilience - Uinise Tulikihakau
· Tusitala - Selina Tusitala Marsh
· Black Stone - Grace Mera Molisa
· Iep Jaltok: Poems from a Marshallese Daughter - Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner
· Flotsam & Jetsam - Jully Makini
I started this list for my own personal use, but I thought some people might find it helpful too. I plan on expanding it further, so any recommendations are welcome :)
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Prompt: God, I’m in such a mood of just wanting august to kidnap my virgin self, tie me to his bed and show me all the ways he knows to make a woman cum 🤤
Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body-type description)
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own*
Warnings: 18+, kidnapping, dub-con, sex toy, clitoral stimulation, bondage.
Word count: 666 (Buwhahahahahahahahaha)
A/N: Okay, that’s more or less the plot for Way to Hell (in their long run). I wrote this with a migraine and under the influence of pain killers, so here goes. Not beta’d, we die slipping off a cliff, kissing a hook and crashing into the fire.
The bite of the rope seared your flesh with every little tug and pull you’ve made. Panic draped your bare breasts, colder than a chill sea mist upon the vehement pounding of your heart. You could hear its rumble in your ears.
“My sweet girl.”
A bewhiskered man sauntered through the open doorway; a small towel rested on the nook of his shoulder, his cheeks aglow with a shave and the thick moustache that decorated his marble-cut face was neatly groomed. It was almost as if he prepared for this moment, a dark sacrament of sorts.
“I had my contemplations all day long,” he explained and marched toward a black duffle bag laid on the antique cherrywood desk; the sound of the zipper undone tore through the silence.
“I wasn’t sure if to take you... until you smiled back at me at the beach. I knew then you wanted me too.”
“Please...” you managed to utter in a shuddering voice, “my family will be looking for me.”
“Nonsense,” he answered with a surprisingly soft timbre and gave you a sided-grin while beginning to fish out content from the bag. Your eyes flared at the sight of pink silicon, silver, glass and a large bottle of translucent liquid.
“We left them a note. Off went sweet little you to marry a man you met at the Havana Club.” He took a small arrow-shaped glass plug and examined it up close with a deep hum, and then placed it back down on the desk.
“Maybe later...” he mumbled to himself and then grabbed a pink clitoral vibe instead.
“It all happened so fast.” He strode toward you. Footfalls heavy, he made the wooden panels tremor with every step. “One night, we were dancing at the club, our bodies grinding together in a passionate entwine, and then next thing you knew, I knelt before you at the beach, right under the starlit sky and asked for your hand.”
The bed dipped under the weight of his knee, and your belly sunk at the touch of his hand, latching your thigh - firm yet oddly gentle. You must have been bewitched by him, for you never struggled, and an embarrassing sheen of wetness dripped down your unplucked rose.
He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, letting out a low groan of delight.
“When I found out that you’re a virgin last night, I knew you were going to be special, my sweet girl.”
“Sir... I... I..” you mumbled as he unfolded your clenching legs and crawled between them.
“August,” he corrected and held the tongue-shaped toy in front of you. His thumb grazed the smooth silicon and traced its way to the button, switching the vibrator on. The buzzing noise made you bounce and hiss with fear. And excitement.
A loud huff pushed from his flaring nostrils, his eyes beaming at the sight of the puddle that graced the sheet below your groin.
“You are so wet.”
Fire licked your cheeks, and as he shifted closer, you held your breath and squeezed your eyes shut like someone anticipating a sting, but the vibrating kiss of the silicon made you gasp, and your orbs flew upon with a shudder.
His gaze met yours, suckling his bottom lip, he broke into a delightful smirk while you writhed like a helpless fish washed ashore. Unbidden pleasure laved your untouched core, the gaping hole between your legs squeezing around the sad emptiness.
“I will have fun showing you all the ways one can find pleasure without penetration,” he promised, pressing the vibe tighter against your clit and twisting gently.
“Oh god, August,” you pleaded, trying to resist what so naturally bloomed in your belly and still, somehow, you wanted more, in a way that felt fetal.
“Slow, my sweet girl, there is much more pleasure in mystery and anticipation.” August tutted and cooed while you squirmed and whimpered and grew closer to your undoing with every passing second.
The honeymoon phase was always his favourite.
Credits: Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker or Mission Impossible
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The Blood In My Veins | Black Sails
Chapter 14: The Serpent's Commitment
For Chapter 13: Regret To The Death click here.
He grabbed my leg and crawled on top of me with the intention to knock me out. But luckily I could slam my head against his and he fell to the surface, acting quickly, I grabbed his throat and tried to choke him. Only to feel his knee in my side and a sharp sound was released by a sword dragged across the floor. We were both shocked and let go of each other. Then, a black snake slithered towards us and drove us apart.
"ANIMALS! Even a snake is more mannered than the two of you."
(POV Naida Jones)
Standing with my back straight in front of both men with my chin up I shook my head at them both.
"You two don't understand that you both have to live for Nassau's sake. When the outside world knows that feared pirates are dying, they think they are more likely to have Nassau as their fucking trophy!"
I looked deadly at Vane and then at Flint. Clenching my jaw as I stroked Vellath, hanging around my neck. I found her injured in Havana when I was young, she has stayed with me ever since I helped her. The only thing is her poison is very dangerous and feels like something is burning right through you, I don't think you want that to be the last thing you've ever felt before it kills you.
"Naida, put the serpent down-..."
"Any movement and this serpent hangs around your neck until your head explodes." Flint swallowed, but in annoyance sighed afterwards.
"Naida, can't avoid it any longer. It's time you made a choice-..!" My eyes met Vane's, his wild hair and blood dripping from his mouth, his shirt slightly ripped open, I wasn't going to lie, it was a hot sight and I could run back to his arms just by the way he looked at me, only he and his actions showed that he wasn't worth it. Out of reaction to him, I threw a knife at his head, but missed right a few inches away from his head into the wood.
"Enough!" The blonde whore Eleanor came out from behind us and pushed me aside. I wanted to attack back, but Flint gave me a warning not to do it in the way he looked at me.
"You three will resolve this."
"Need to say, if your the one jumping on top of a man who you're only toying with!"
"Shouldn't you have been so bad for Vane."
"Who's the one thats bad for him, if you are only using him when you're to scared to defend yourself... It doesn't matter anymore, he chose it." I noticed that I saw pain in Vane's eyes when he heard my words and he lowered his head, switching his gaze at the floor, afterwards, looking back up angrier than before and his rough voice echoed across the room.
"This isn't going to end the way you want it to!"
He looked at Eleanor with an angry and disgusted face expression while he said those words out loud.
"This ends in this room right now."
"He can't let it and neither do I."
Flint hooked his foot behind a chair and dragged it over the floor with his foot. "Sit down."
"Why the fuck should I sit?!" Both breathing like animals, Vane looked at the chair and refused to sit down.
"There is a girl in your possession. Her name is Abigail. Give her to me and I will stand down my men. You can have the fort." Eleanor looked shocked and was out of a sudden finally speechless for once.
"Oh, so if I understand correctly, this asshole takes a part in trading women and Flint suddenly finds money more important, ain't that weird?"
"She is worth more to me than money, Naida. She is the future of this place. Send word for your father, Eleanor. He should hear this as well." Eleanor left with strong steps and was on her way to get her father. Meanwhile, I had walked to the left side of the room and looked out the window where Vane was standing next to so I could watch the busy streets and keep my mind away from all the bullshit that was thrown to me.
"No, I don't want to be played with, best to get that out of your head...." Vane tried to get my attention for the second time and grabbed my arm.
"You were sick?!"
I sighed and locked gazes with him, making me see that his eyes looked like they had fire flare in them.
"I'm better now, don't pretend you care. It was just rotten food... nothing more, nothing less."
"No, it's more than that."
Flint stood up and pulled me out of Vane's grip on my arm, making an end to our conversation. I stumbled back a bit and sat down onto the chair that Flint had pushed away for Vane to sit down. I had put my head in my hands, feeling lost into my emotions and feeling weak again. The one moment I was angry and the other moment I was sad. I didn't care how these two men saw me anymore, they both saw what I'm capable of and how broken I could be. They both had seen me at my strongest and weakest times and this was definitely my weakest time.
"You have ever been to Charles Town?" I looked up, throwing my hair back to my shoulders.
Flint and Vane had eye contact and I was sure that at the time Vane and Flint agreed with each other just by eye contact. Then Flint laid his hand on my knee and rubbed his hand up and down comfortably. Perhaps, because Vane knew I didn't trust him, but he still wanted to help me, asking Flint to comfort me instead of himself.
"There is a man there... Lord Peter Ashe, his daughter is, like I told earlier, in possession of Vane and his men. Bringing her back unharmed and safely, means an future for Nassau." Just before I wanted to speak, Eleanor and her father walked in followed by Mrs. Barlow, whom I also knew by now by the rumors going around the island. A long silence followed with many judging looks before Flint started explaining to us all what his plan was. Flint somehow felt guilty and looked up at me.
"It will likely start with three ships, maybe four. A tactical assault to retake the bay. Once England decides she wants this place back, the redoutes that she will commit towards that end... are inexhaustible. Sooner or later, we'll be driven inland, forced to fight as rebels from interior hoping to inflict enough damage and expense to compel the new governor to negotiate with what's left of us. For years I prepared for that fight." Flint scanned the room and stopped by each single on of us in the room to make eye contact. "Now it would appear that there is another way, a way in which we can control our futures without that fight. And as fate would have it, you are holding the key to make that possible."
Eleanor gave Vane an irritated look his way and sighed. "The girl?"
"Her father is a very powerful, very influential man." I tried to listen to what was important, but my vision became blurry just like awhile ago. Everything moved around me and I was lucky that I was already sitting down. Closing my eyes, I tried to let the lightness in my head disappear, but it didn't work to fade. I was sweating and started feeling sick while everyone else was busy talking. In the corner of my eyes I could spot Vane looking at me worryingly, but he knew he needed to keep his distance because if I wanted everyone to know about this moment then I would have shown it without putting on a neutral face.
"That would certainty argue well for our prospects-..."
"what do I get? If this, if that. Yet it all relies on an asset you do not possess."
"What do you get? You get what we all get— a future."
"Show it to me. Hand me my future here in this room."
Vane started trying to negotiate with Flint about the share he would get from giving his asset to Flint and my mind started to clear a little again, being able to breath normal as well.
"What? It isn't just your words, is it? The promise of a thing hard to define and impossible to deliver— that is what you're suggesting I get in exchange for surrendering an asset worth what that girl is worth?"
"If you're looking for something more immediate, then how about your own survival."
"Men....fucking hell. Do you two even remember how both of you started this personal war?" I shook my head at the two men and waited for an answer.
Vane tucked his thumbs behind his belt and Flint rolled his eyes without even answering me, Flint started again. Perhaps, the answer was simple, perhaps not. But after what felt like hours, I finally got peace of mind when Vane walked away with the offer, the girl for a Spanish man of war and Flint. On the other hand, a grumpy face sat on the opposite side of me. Eleanor, as always, ran after Vane down the stairs and the two debated. I really needed some rest from all these discussions and problems and rose carefully to my feet.
"Nobody dares disturbing me or the last thing you see with those eyes is the underside of my ship."
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