The History of Love: Part 9 - Professor Andy x Student Reader
Warnings: Professor x Student relationship, smut
Word Count: ~2100
Author's Note: It's been a while, I know. The end of the school year fried my brain and it's taken me this long to be ready to write again, but it's finally here. I will be adding one more part to this, hopefully in the next week or so. Thank you to all of you who patiently waited for me to get back to this. I hope it was worth the wait.
Part 8 Masterlist
After making up with Andy, the two of you spent the rest of the weekend in your own little world within the walls of his house.
Sunday evening found you curled up with Andy on his couch. You were laying between Andy’s legs while he watched a football game on tv. You had no idea how football worked, and Andy had tried to explain it to you but got distracted by the action of the game. That was perfectly fine to you, it was much more entertaining to watch Andy watch the game than actually figure out what was happening.
As the game went to commercial, Andy reached for the remote and turned the volume down. He cleared his throat slightly before whispering in your ear “I love you.”
Your face breaks out into a smile as you lift your face towards his and press a quick peck to his lips.
“I love you too,” you whisper back to him.
“So tomorrow?” Andy asks, before trailing off. You know what he’s referring to. Tomorrow is Monday and after a week of hiding out in your dorm, you need to go back to class. That includes back to Andy’s class.
“Tomorrow, I go back to my dorm, back to my classes and we act like nothing is going on while in public,” you sigh, before dropping your gaze and playing with the tassel on the gray throw blanket Andy had draped over your laps when you sat down.
Andy wraps his arms tighter around you before placing his chin on your shoulder.
“I know it’s not ideal, but just for a little while longer,” he reminds you. And he’s right. There are only four more weeks until the end of the semester. After the break, you and Andy agreed to go to the dean together and inform the school of your relationship. Apparently, student and staff relationships weren’t against the college’s handbook officially, but they were highly frowned upon. Andy had suggested fudging the details of when you had gotten together so as to not run the risk of getting either one of you in trouble.
“But after school and on the weekends, you’ll come here and everything will be fine,” he reminds you.
That was what the two of you had decided on, after spending hours discussing your relationship that morning. You had both laid everything out on the table, all your insecurities and worries. All the stress of keeping your relationship a secret. Everything. Then you had come up with a plan; get through the rest of the semester without anyone finding out (except Kay), spend some time over the holiday break together, and then inform the college of your relationship several weeks into the spring semester. In the meantime, Andy had given you a key to his place and invited you to stay over whenever you wanted.
“It’ll be okay y/n,” Andy quietly reassures you.
“I know.”
After returning to campus on Monday, you were surprised by how easy it was to fall back into your normal routine. First, you had to tackle the mountain of make-up work after missing a week’s worth of classes. There was a quiz to make up for economics, a paper you had to scramble to finish on time as well as a boatload of homework to make up across your four classes.
When Andy had seen your pile of schoolwork that evening as you worked at his kitchen table, he felt a little guilty. It was his fault after all you had missed a week’s worth of classes.
“Hey,” he greeted you as he pulled out the chair next to you and sat down. “I’ll excuse your missing work for my class, okay? Don’t worry about it, you’ve got enough on your plate here,” he tells you as he gestures to the organized chaos in front of you.
“Andy, no,” you start. “It’s fine, I need to do it.”
“No, it’s really okay. It’s my fault anyway that you missed class, the least I can do is take a little bit off your plate and excuse you from the assignments in my class.”
You look at the man sitting next to you and sigh before reaching for his hand and grasping it between yours.
“It’s a very nice offer, Andy, really, thank you. But, if you do that, and the dean finds out you gave me special treatment it could backfire. Remember, we have to make it look like this relationship started after the semester was over and I was out of your class.”
Andy drops his head onto his chest and sighs. He knows your right.
“Okay, okay,” Andy agrees. “But what if I accidentally left the answer key lying around and you just happened to find it,” he suggests with a grin.
“Andy!” you admonish him, playfully smacking his arm before turning your attention back to your work. Andy laughs, before pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head and going off to make dinner. He figures he can do that at least while you slave away over your homework.
Two weeks before the end of the semester and you find yourself having a hard time focusing in your Wednesday class with Professor Barber. The heater was broken in the lecture hall, stuck on high, and everyone had peeled off their warmer outer layers, including Andy.
You were chewing on the end of your pen as you admired his trim figure in the dress slacks and white button-down he was wearing. Andy had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and all you could think about as he wrote on the whiteboard was how much you wanted those arms holding you down while he fucked you.
“Y/N!” Kay hisses at you, breaking you out of your daydream.
“What?” you furtively whisper back.
“You’re drooling again,” your best friend teases. You roll your eyes at her and try to focus on the notes you are supposed to be taking about battles of the Revolutionary War. Though the image of Andy’s arms holding you down while he rams his cock into you doesn’t stray far from your mind.
Instead of waiting for Andy in the lecture hall at the end of class, you head straight for his office. It takes about ten minutes before Andy makes his way down the hall toward you. If he’s shocked to find you there it doesn’t show as he calmly greets you, unlocking his office door and ushering you inside.
Andy barely has the door closed before you’re on him, pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders and undoing the buttons down his shirt.
“Y/n,” Andy moans, grabbing your wrists as you try to undo the last few buttons.
You give him the best innocent look you can as you look up at him, “Yes professor?”
“We talked about this,” he warns, making you sigh. The two of you had agreed no more hanky-panky while on campus, though it’s kind of hard to take Andy seriously when you can feel his hardening cock pressing against your stomach.
You stretch up onto your tiptoes before whispering in his ear, “Do you know how hot you looked up there today? How much I wanted to have those arms holding me down while you fucked me into the mattress?”
Andy groans as your hands finish the last button and begin untucking his shirt from his pants.
“And while yes, I could wait until later tonight, I thought it would be such a waste not to put that couch of yours to use,” you continue, sliding the crisp dress shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor.
“Fuck it,” Andy growls, easily picking you up and carrying you over to the couch. You quickly strip down to your bra and panties as Andy undoes his belt and pushes his pants down, freeing his cock.
Your mouth waters at the sight of him standing there in front of you. His monstrous cock draws your eyes up to his toned abs and thick arms. For being forty years old, Andy is still the hottest man you’ve ever seen.
Andy pushes you back until you are lying on the couch, one strong arm coming to rest across your collarbone holding you in place, while the other reaches down into your panties.
“Wet for me already,” he notes as his fingers gently rub up and down your slit. You bite your lip to hide a moan, making Andy smirk. He quickly withdraws his fingers, pulling your panties off and climbing onto the couch above you.
“Is this what you wanted?” Andy asks as he lines the head of his cock up to your entrance. “For me to hold you down and fuck you in my office?”
“Yes!” you cry out as Andy plunges his cock into you.
“Still so fucking tight,” Andy groans as he sets a punishing pace, his cock thrusting in and out of you. He moves his hands from where they’ve been holding onto the armrest above your head and grasps onto your shoulders, causing a gush of wetness between your legs.
You reach a hand down toward your pussy to rub your clit but Andy smacks it away.
“Nuh-uh, if you’re going to cum it’s going to be from my cock alone,” he tells you, pushing you further into the couch as he pounds in and out of you.
“Oh fuck,” you moan as Andy repeatedly hits that magic spot inside of you. There was no denying that sex with Andy was amazing. The man knew just how to rile you up and make your pussy gush. Being held down on his couch and fucked hard and fast like this was winding you up higher than ever before.
“Andy,” you whine, your hands clenching around nothing where they are being held down by your side. Andy grins above you, knowing that you must be close. He pulls your arms up over your head, holding both your hands in one while the other one reaches down and undoes the front clasp of your bra.
“Are you gonna cum for me?” Andy teases as he begins tugging and twisting your nipple with his free hand. “Are you going to make a mess all over my couch with that sopping pussy of yours?”
You frantically nod your head as a moan escapes your lips. You can feel your pussy begin to tighten around Andy’s cock along with the rest of your body. Something about this feels different than normal, more than normal. Like all the usual sensations of an impending orgasm, just heightened.
Andy moves his hand from your nipple and slaps your clit, making stars appear behind your eyes as your body explodes and your pussy squirts for the first time in your life.
“Holy fuck,” Andy exclaims in amazement as your cunt gushes around his cock and onto the leather couch below. You whine as Andy watches liquid expel from your pussy, a shit-eating grin on his face. Your hips finally relax back into the couch as you come down from your orgasm, your heart racing like crazy inside your chest.
“Andy,” you moan from oversensitivity as his cock begins to push inside of you again.
“Such a good girl squirting for me like that,” Andy praises as he leans down to kiss you. “Now just relax and let me fill you up.”
You nod as Andy kisses you again, continuing to thrust in and out of you. It doesn’t take long before he stills above you, flooding your pussy with his cum.
The two of you lay there on his couch for a while, Andy’s cock still buried inside of you. You run your fingers through his messy hair, trying to straighten it back into some semblance of order and chuckling as it flops back over his face.
In the distance the old clock tower on campus begins to chime, informing you of the time.
“Oh shit,” you gasp as you realize you’re about to be late for your economics class. “Andy get up, get up, I have to go!”
The two of you scramble up off the couch as you begin to frantically redress yourself. Andy puts his own clothes on again before picking your bag up off the floor and moving toward the door of his office.
“Tell your professor we had an advising session and I kept you long,” Andy instructs as you throw your hair up into a messy bun. You nod as he opens the door with a quick glance down the hall.
“I’ll see you tonight,” you tell him, pressing a kiss to his cheek and running off toward your class.
As Andy watches you run away, he can’t help but think that the end of the semester can’t come soon enough.
Like I said, there will be one more part to wrap up this story. Until then, thank you for reading!
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!!!!! i am TORN 😭😭 gonna send in another one but ari levinson + cuddling in the first morning light?
hehe saw ur tags, i found that limiting myself to a few sentences really helped my writing flow
thank u for the request brandy!!!
Prompt: “Cuddling in the first morning light.”
Pairing: Ari Levinson x Reader
Warnings: None
Word count: ~300
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Waking up, you can tell it’s early by the dull rays of the morning sun peeking through the drapes covering the windows. You have half a mind to scold Ari for waking you so early, the weight of his arm as he reached to pull you closer to him impossible not to feel, even in your sleep.
But it doesn’t seem like he’s awake yet, soft snores still coming from his side of the bed. Carefully turning to face him, a smile tugs at your lips and you roll your eyes.
You bring a hand up to push his hair off his forehead, using your fingers to brush through it and gently scritch the back of his neck.
That gets him to stir, beginning to wake with a quiet yawn.
“Dreamin’ about me?”
“Huh?” He hums. His voice sounds rough as he stretches, slowly opening his eyes. “I don’t think so.”
Wrong answer.
You scoff, dropping your hand to his chest to jokingly push away from him.
“What?” He sounds desperate to know what you could possibly be upset about five minutes into the morning.
“If you weren’t dreaming about me, who were you reaching for in your sleep? Huh?”
“No one,” he chuckles. “I swear.” He rubs your back with his hand that’s still draped over you. “Is that what I did?”
“Yeah,” you huff.
He shakes his head, pulling you closer again, and you let him, but you don’t spare him a skeptical look.
“I wouldn’t wanna be holding anyone but you right now,” he promises, giving you a soft kiss. He laughs when you don’t kiss him back. “Sweetheart–”
“You’re sure?”
“Never been so sure about anything.”
Your raised eyebrow relaxes and you eventually return his kiss. “Okay.”
“I never get just a simple ‘good morning’ from you,” he teases, rolling his eyes.
“I know.” It takes everything in him not to kiss the smirk off your face. “I like fucking with you.”
♡━━━♡━━━♡
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ELIAVA HEADCANNONS
May 2024 is too far, and the delusion preservation is imperative.
Eli listens to classical music just for Ava.
Ava sometimes sneaks into the library at the King's mansion just to swipe a book or two that she may have seen Eli reading. Other times, she bribes Creighton.
Eli is practically adopted by Silver the moment Elsa reveals his little crush (privately, of course) on her daughter. It does not stop Cole from throwing jabs at him whenever he comes over to hang out with Aunt Silver and to spy on his girl.
During their childhood, they've been locked together by their friends/siblings/cousins in the same room/closet plenty of times.
As a sign of rebellion against her parents, Ava once dyes her entire hair pink. The mortification hits her soon after and she refuses to talk to anyone until one text, one silent drive to the salon later she's sharing her snickers bar with Eli as a form of thanks.
Eli always leaves an anonymous bouquet of pink roses (her favorite) for Ava before her recitals in her dressing room. It's the only sign that he attends her recitals at all (Eli has attended every single one of them).
Whenever Eli goes AWOL, only Ava knows he's hiding in the library in a dark nook that has space behind the shelf just enough for two people. Sometimes, she joins him. Other times, she lays her head against his shoulder as he reads in the quiet.
All the teasing garnered from her friends due to Eli's attention suddenly stops one day. Becomes more...cautious.
Eli swears he had nothing to do with it and that he would never threaten them (he's lying, he nearly makes Remi cry).
Ava, like her mom, also writes journals where a lot of pages have Eli's name written, circled, crossed and scribbled out.
For prom, RES hosts a masquerade theme but every single boy in the school is terrified to ask Ava to prom. Glyndon decides to go without a date as well and Cecily flies in to join them. Both friends pretend not to notice Ava dancing with a masked stranger on the dancefloor at midnight.
Eli never stays longer than five minutes at any of Ava's birthdays/sometimes she never finds him at all, but she always finds his gifts in her room.
Ava has a jersey with Eli's number on it that Cole secretly swipes out of her closet to burn but gets caught by Silver.
Ariella is Eli's partner-in-crime.
After Eli leaves for University, Ava shows up at the King's mansion under the pretense of hanging out with Elsa but it's just to sneak into Eli's room and look at all his awards and trophies longingly she does not miss him.
When they finally start dating, they are met with long-suffering sighs, "finally"'s and "took you guys forever."
Ava drops little hints of herself wherever she can find a place for it. Scrunchie on his gearshift. Perfume bottle on his desk. "Accidental" kiss mark on his collar. Her ring on a chain around his neck.
Ava makes Eli watch all the chick-flicks she can because she's appalled when she finds out he hasn't watched Mean Girls.
"BOo, yoU wHoRE" - Remi says, sitting next to Cecy, Glyn, Annika and Ava wearing a facemask matching theirs.
The moment Cole opens the door to see his daughter and King's spawn standing together, hand-in-hand, the first thing he says is "No"
And it's final, too. No amount of convincing from both Silver and Ava seems to work.
When he finally comes around and they all sit down for dinner, they have a "Daddy, can you pass the salt?" moment after which Eli is chased out of the house by Cole and his gün.
Eli sneaks in thru the balcony into Ava's room anyway. Both Ariella and Silver know and choose not to tell Cole.
Eli's only saving grace with Cole is that Eli would kilI for his daughter or die trying and Cole wouldn't want any man willing to give anything lesser for his Ava.
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Part two?
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Two Princesses
Chapter 6: Changes.
Word Count: 2,8K
Warning: arranged marriage, age difference, mention of injuries.
130 A.C
King's Landing
Ariella felt suffocated. Alicent suffocated her with so many conversations about the wedding preparations, conversations about the wedding dress, about embroidery, about this, about that. She couldn't take it anymore.
She also couldn't bear to see her stepmother, future mother-in-law, staring at the large scar on her forearm. It was very uncomfortable. Besides all that, there were the looks.
The looks of the lords who frequent the Keep, the looks of their wives, and even the servants. They whispered whenever she passed by or when she was present in one of the halls.
She found comfort in the presence of Helaena, who was talking to her more, even if it was to speak in dilemmas and incomprehensible murmurs. Ariella loved Helaena's children, they were lovely and they also enjoyed spending time with her. They reminded her of her other nephews in Dragonstone, she missed them everyday.
Almost every day, she went to one of the Keep's balconies to see Aemond in the training yard, at his request. She would never have the courage to tell him that she found it too boring. Their relationship was good, they talked a lot and Aemond was kind, sometimes preferring to stay close to her while she read than go flying in Vhagar or do anything else. But Ariella felt very bored, and sometimes uncomfortable with his almost constant presence.
But she would never tell him that either.
She knew the reports of court ladies who were mistreated by their husbands and could not say anything, so she would never complain about an overly attentive husband.
At the present moment, Ariella was embroidering next to Helaena on a sofa, listening to her murmuring about something.
"It is in our nature to want what belongs to someone. When one has something, the other wants to take it." she said and looked at Ariella expectantly.
"Yes, sister." she said and Helaena nodded satisfied, returning her gaze to the embroidery in her hands.
She sighed and got up, giving her sister a kiss on the cheek who murmured happily, and went towards the large doors, when she opened them, she frowned when she saw Alicent and a maid talking in front of the room. Alicent had a small scroll in her hands.
"What is happening? Claire?" she looked at her personal maid, who was talking to the queen earlier.
"A Dragonstone raven for you, princess." she said and hurriedly bowed and left, head bowed.
She turned to Alicent, staring at the parchment in the Queen's hands. She reached out her hand.
"Your grace? I assume this is for me." she gestured to the piece of paper.
She saw Alicent swallow hard and be reluctant to give it to her, but she did. Ariella bowed and left for her quarters, going to read the contents of the parchment away from the queen's eyes.
----------------------
Sitting on a chair in front of the fireplace in her room, Ariella undid the knot on the thread that held the small scroll, unrolling it.
Niece, I hope this message reached you. It's been almost a whole month since we came to Dragonstone and I still haven't heard from you, other than the terrible news that you're getting married. Let us know about you, write to us, tell us what you ate for dinner. Rhaenyra miss you. Your nephews too, Baela and Rhaena too. And me too.
Daemon
Ariella sighed happily, smiling at the letter, she hugged it to her chest and threw herself against the chair she was sitting on. He missed his family a lot. She got up and went to one of the tables in the room, took a piece of parchment and her quill and immediately began writing back to her uncle, telling him how she felt and what she had eaten for dinner yesterday. Waited for the paint to dry and roll it up, securing it with a thread.
She gave the parchment to Claire, she knew she was the only one who would actually make sure she sent it, the other maids couldn't be trusted.
For the next few hours she stayed in her room, as dinner time approached, she prayed to the Seven that her father wouldn't have another family dinner, it was too uncomfortable. But apparently the gods heard her and she was able to eat the meal alone in her own chambers.
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When morning came, Ariella took a thick book from the library and sat down to read against the tree in the sacred grove. The moment of peace was short-lived, as soon Alicent appeared, with Aemond following her. Ariella sighed softly and raised her face to look at her stepmother, who approached smiling.
"I see you really enjoy reading, stepdaughter." she said.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"It's not common for women to read much, even if they are royalty, they are more expected to do embroidery or talk about fabrics." the queen continued.
"I do all of that, but I still enjoy reading."
"I used to sit here and read with... well, you must want company too, company other than Helaena." She gestured with her head for Aemond to step forward. "And as you will be married soon, you two should be expected to be together some of the time.”
She stared at Ariella waiting for an answer.
"As you wish, Your Grace."
Alicent nodded and then said goodbye, leaving the two alone. Ariella looked down at the book again but heard Aemond clear his throat.
"Let's walk, I want to discuss some matters with you." he practically ordered.
"I thought the company was for reading, not for walking." she replied, still looking at the book.
"Come on, don't make this difficult, I don't want to be unpleasant." he continued.
Sighing Ariella got up and left the book resting on the tree, she began to walk beside Aemond, waiting for him to say something.
"I see you are enjoying the preparations for our wedding." he said turning his head towards her.
"Yes, the queen is in charge of everything, actually." she says swallowing hard.
"I think we should stop these preparations." he says.
She stops walking suddenly, surprised.
"Huh?"
"I think we should be married in the ways of Old Valyria, sister." he turns to face her.
"What?"
"We will be married in a Valyrian ceremony."
"Aemond, preparations are almost complete-"
"We can stop the preparations, sister. Since we're going, our father said we're going to come together through tradition, it's only fair that our wedding ceremony is traditional too." he continues.
"That's not wise, Aemond. The Faith still exists, for them it was an affront when Aegon married Helaena, our union tends to be more difficult to accept due to our blood ties and the circumstances of my birth." Ariella says.
"They have no power over us. Our father is the king and can do whatever he wants.”
"We are lucky that there wasn't a rebellion due to our brothers' marriage, I doubt they will remain silent. Do you know the conditions of a Valyrian marriage? It is not accomplished by Faith and-"
"And it cannot be annulled. I know all this, that's why I want to marry you like this." he says approaching her, making her shrink a little.
"I don't want to get married like this." she walks away. "Your mother won't agree either, you know."
"Why are you refusing?" he frowns. "You will be my wife soon, you must agree with me."
She almost let out a raucous laugh.
"Go talk to your mother about this, kid. If she agrees then we will get married like that.”
She was upset, that's why she highlighted the age difference between her and Aemond. The prince shivered a little but let her go without question.
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She hurriedly walked to her father's chambers, being relieved to see that he was only accompanied by a maester who she considered kind, he always smiled at her and didn't give her judgmental looks.
"Good morning, my king." she said as she approached the bed. "Good morning, maester."
The two men smiled at her at the same time, the maester shook his head. Her father reached out to her.
"Thank you maester, leave us." he said.
The man stood up and bowed respectfully, before leaving.
"My dear, come." he said with a tired voice and she sat on the side of the bed, next to him, he placed a few kisses on her face, making her giggle.
"Father, there's something I want to talk to you about." she said, becoming serious again.
"What?" he asked, his bruised hand going against the cloths that covered the rotted half of his face.
"Aemond wants to marry me in a Valyrian ceremony."
"Oh, that's great. Following our traditions, honoring the Dragon blood in your veins." he said.
"Father, I don't want to." she sulked.
"Oh? And why not, little princess?" he tried to cheer her up.
"We're not even fully Valyrian. Aemond is part Hightower and I am part Royce. And besides, it wouldn't be looked upon favorably. You may not remember, but I remember what it was like when Rhaenyra married Daemon like that. And beyond that, there is Faith."
Viserys bent over to cough a little and she felt guilty, she shouldn't be bothering her father with these things. She got up from the bed and took a small cup, filling it with poppy milk. She approached the bed and made her father lean against it, offering the milk while holding the cup. He took a few sips and pushed her hand away.
"I'm fine, I'm sorry, I'm fine." he said almost breathlessly.
"Father..."
"I'm better now, come, stay here close to me."
She placed the small glass back on the nightstand and sat down again.
"As you said, the Valyrian wedding." he encouraged her to speak again.
"I don't want to get married like this, I don't... Father, can I speak clearly?"
"I thought you already was."
"You know the circumstances, if I get married in a Valyrian ceremony... the marriage cannot be annulled." she lowered her voice.
Viserys stared at her for a few seconds.
"This is correct, isn't it? A marriage should be forever."
She lowered her face, discouraged.
"I think so, my king." she got up from the bed and bowed. "I'm going to say goodbye, excuse me."
Viserys tried to sit up again when his daughter turned to leave, reaching out his hand to try and reach her.
"My daughter, I didn't want to upset you." he said weakly.
She turned to her father and approached the bed again.
"You didn’t upset me, I’m just… I’m just tired.”
"If you don't want to marry Aemond in a Valyrian ceremony, then I won't allow it to happen." he said holding her hand.
"Really?" her face lit up.
"Yeah, I doubt Alicent would agree to that anyway. So the traditional Valyrian ceremony is prohibited from taking place, by order of the king."
Ariella leaned over and wrapped her arms awkwardly around him.
"Thank you, father."
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This time Viserys wanted everyone to have family dinner, so there they were. He didn't get up to speak this time.
"I must inform you that my children will be married in the Faith of the Seven. We all know that the Faith abhors our tradition of keeping blood pure so to try and alleviate some of the damage, they must marry a High Septon in the Sept. A Valyrian ceremony would not be well regarded and is prohibited by me."
She saw Aemond look at her with a serious, almost immaculate face. He saw Alicent sigh in relief and continued eating in silence, then he remembered his uncle's letter.
"Father, can I go to Dragonstone? I want to personally deliver my wedding invitation to Rhaenyra.”
She saw Alicent and Otto stiffen in their seats and Aemond grip the glass tightly.
"I thought the invitations were already sent out, right?" Aemond asked, looking at his mother.
"Some, but not all. I believe a messenger can deliver the invitation, stepdaughter." She turned her head to Ariella.
"She said she wants to go and deliver her sister's invitation in person, so so be it." Viserys said holding a glass of wine. "Tomorrow a ship will be ready for your departure." he said to Ariella.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
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Dragonstone
The next morning, she embarked with her maid, a guard, and a maester towards Dragonstone. Neither the queen nor her future husband showed up to say goodbye, the only ones who came to say goodbye were Helaena and her children.
About two days later they arrived in Dragonstone and were greeted by some guards and Daemon, whose features were twisted in disgust, but which were soon replaced by a smile when he saw that it was her.
She walked across the far stone bridge until she was near the guards and her uncle.
"Uncle." she said smiling.
Daemon walked over and took her hand, stroking it and squeezing it a little. He raised his other hand and ran his fingers through her curls.
"Niece. It's good to have you back."
Her smile died a little.
"I.. I came to deliver my wedding invitation. Maester, please." she called and he approached holding the envelope sealed with the Targaryen sigil, handing it towards one of Daemon's guards, who waved dismissively for the guard to take it.
"Let's go." he said and began to pull her towards the black stone castle.
They entered the place and she sighed happily, feeling good about being back home, even if it was just for a few days. Daemon continued leading her by the hand to the room with the carved table, where he went in front and asked a guard to announce her after a few minutes.
"Princess Ariella Targaryen." he announced loudly as he opened the doors.
She walked in and took a peek, seeing her almost entire family there, around the table. She hurriedly went downstairs, seeing that Jacaerys was already walking towards her.
"Aunt!" he hugged her tightly and she was amazed at how he already seemed bigger, even though it had only been a month.
"Jace!" she giggled at his excitement, they separated and Lucerys also came over to hug her. "Luke." she kissed the top of his head after the hug.
Baela and Rhaena were next, she hugged them tightly, she missed those who she also considered younger sisters. They all chatted excitedly and Jace crushed her into another hug before they headed out the door, led by Daemon.
She then turned to Rhaenyra, who was staring at the scene with a tender smile on her face. Ariella approached, swallowing hard.
"Sister." she said.
Rhaenyra approached her and only then did she notice that her sister's belly was even bigger, Rhaenyra gently ran her hands over it. She took a few more steps closer, until their bodies were almost touching, then ran her hands over Ariella's arms.
"I missed you."
"I missed you too."
She looked into Rhaenyra's eyes and a deep sadness fell over her. There was his home. With Rhaenyra, with Daemon, with her nephews and cousins. Anywhere they were would be home. She sighed and ran a hand over Rhaenyra's swollen belly.
"I want to apologize." Rhaenyra began.
"This is not necessary."
"Is necessary. I apologize for saying something like that during an argument."
"It's okay, you weren't lying anyway."
Rhaenyra pulled her into a hug, being careful with her belly.
"Daemon said you came to deliver your wedding invitation." she said when they separated.
"Yes. Aemond wanted to get married in a Valyrian ceremony, but I convinced Father not to allow it."
Rhaenyra giggled and they chatted for hours.
When night came, they gathered in the banquet hall and had dinner as a family, a real family. With everyone laughing and talking to each other, they danced and drank wine. That was home.
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Legacy
Summary: Slytherin Reader is married to Fred and the two have a daughter. When she goes off to Hogwarts and gets sorted into Slytherin, it’s a tough pill for Fred to swallow.
Warnings: angst, language
Word Count: 3.6k
A/N: So I really enjoyed writing this one. It starts off a little slow but it picks up, I promise!! I’m just soft for dad Fred. he deserved better.
-
The pairing of Fred Weasley and Y/N Y/L/N was unlikely to say the least. The two, who had been in the same year, didn’t find themselves in each others’ company during their time at Hogwarts. But, Y/N, who was loyal to the school, had saved him from a terrible fate during the Battle of Hogwarts, and the two found their way together after that.
She had known of the Gryffindor prankster, he was not exactly subtle in their years together at Hogwarts. On multiple occasions, the tall ginger twin had set of Dungbombs and Fireworks in their classrooms. Y/N never admitted it, but she always found the twins’ pranks quite amusing. She would silently laugh behind her hand as McGonagall or Flitwick, or sometimes even Snape would glare at them and remove points from Gryffindor. But, that never dampened the spirits of the brothers, who always found a way to keep people on their toes.
Y/N, on the other hand, tried not to bring too much attention to herself in her time at the school. She was placed in Slytherin, much to her parents’ utter thrill, and kept her circle of friends small. She only really had two friends — a dark-haired boy named Stellan and a blonde girl named Alice. The two had been her go-to companions practically the whole time she was there. They had been some of the only non-pureblood-fanatics she had met. Sure, she prided herself in being a pureblood with well-respected parents, but found no understanding in why some people in her house — particularly Draco Malfoy — found pleasure in bringing down those who weren’t.
After graduating, Y/N took time off and debated coming back to Hogwarts as a professor — the late Professor Snape always told her she had a talent for Potions — but with the looming threat of the Dark Lord’s return, she decided to stay on the down-low and get a job in Diagon Alley at Quality Quidditch Supplies.
She spent five years being a Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team, she really did love the sport. She also found herself wandering into Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes during her breaks, admiring the new products on the shelf and having a laugh at those who tried some of their infamous sweets. How the twins managed to keep people smiling in such a dark time, she had no idea.
When the Battle of Hogwarts came to be, Y/N found herself on the frontline, ready to defend the school that her heart belonged to. Which is how she found Fred, cornered in by a Death Eater, who looked ready to kill. She had sent him a curse — ‘levicorpus!’ — and Fred knew right there in that moment that she was the one.
The two found each other one day in Diagon Alley, and they were both done for. Falling in love didn’t come hard for these two. Five years later, they were married, and two years after that, their first child — a daughter — was born.
Ariella Weasley took after her father. She had long, curly ginger hair and freckles scattered across her pale cheeks. The older she got, the more she resembled him. She also did take after her mother, though, because she had Fred wrapped around her little finger. She also had her mother’s pale Y/E/C eyes and her honest smile.
“I’d die for the two of you, y’know?” Fred mumbled to Y/N one night as the two put their baby girl to sleep. Y/N knew, she’d die for the both of them too. They were her entire world.
As Ariella grew older, she started to have fun pranking her cousins with her dad. The two were like partners in crime, and Y/N felt like the luckiest woman alive to be surrounded by two of the liveliest people in the universe.
When Ariella was 11, her Hogwarts letter came in the mail.
“Now, Ari, you’ve got a reputation to live up to. A legacy if you will,” Fred told her, sitting her on the couch, “Uncle Georgie and I really left our mark on Hogwarts, yeah? So keep in mind that you’ve got to live up to it.”
Arielle looked to her mum, eyes wide.
“He’s kidding, love,” Y/N rubbed her back soothingly, “Your dad had a reputation of getting into trouble. If you chose not to go down that same path, you won’t hear me complaining.”
Fred rolled his eyes at his wife, “You know that I made sure things were never boring. Life is supposed to be fun!”
“Fun, yes,” Y/N chuckled, “But education is also important, especially for a young witch. Your dad caused many distractions.” Ariella looked between her two parents and shot them both a toothy grin.
“Trouble and learning go well together!”
Y/N shook her head, a smile on her face as well.
Fred grinned at the two of them, “That’s my girl! When you get sorted into Gryffindor, tell McGonagall I say hi.”
“If she gets sorted into Gryffindor,” Y/N reminded him, “Any house is fine, darling. They’ve all got their strengths.”
Fred was proud of his time in the scarlet and gold house, and he made sure people knew. Everyone in the Weasley family had been placed there and they had each been treated with respect every time they stepped foot back in the school. Ginny, Ron, Fred and George had been on the Quidditch team, Bill and Percy had been Head Boy — there was no shortage of love for the Gryffindor house in the Weasley family.
“But what if she gets placed in Slytherin?” Fred grimaced, “Goodness.”
Y/N thought he was joking, so she shrugged him off and faced her daughter, “I was a Slytherin, and I think I turned out fine.”
“You did, not everyone did. I mean, most Death Eaters came out of there,” Fred pressed on, arms crossed. Ariella looked between her parents, trying to figure out what she’d do if she wasn’t in Gryffindor.
“There are no more Death Eaters, Freddie,” Y/N was a little more stern, “Besides, I knew loads of people in Slytherin who didn’t end up working for the Dark Lord. You just gotta pick your battles.”
Fred dropped the subject and continued telling his daughter about all the things she has to look forward to in her upcoming years.
---
The day Y/N and Fred dropped her off at Platform Nine and Three Quarters was sad day indeed. Y/N shed a few tears, and Fred felt his heart crack slightly as he watched the red steam engine barrel out of sight.
The two made their way back, stopping by to have tea in London before taking their sweet time coming home, and when they got through the front doors a little after sunset, Fred threw his body down on the couch and dragged Y/N down with him. He wrapped her up in his arms and nuzzled his head into her neck.
“What are we gonna do with all this alone time, huh?” he smirked against her neck, placing a light kiss before abruptly pulling away, “Pillow fight!”
He caught her completely off guard and smacked a couch pillow across her face. She held back a gasp, grabbing the one behind her and smacking him right back.
The two battled it out until they were red in the face and panting, both slightly sore from toppling over furniture to avoid getting hit in the face.
“What should we do for dinner, love?” Fred wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing the side of her cheek, “First dinner without Ariella in a long time.”
“I know,” Y/N replied, the hollow feeling in her chest growing as she missed her daughter, “It’s weird. But I know she’s off to go have the best seven years of her life.”
“Yeah,” Fred responded, “Maybe she can even bring home the House Cup!”
“Maybe she can,” Y/N twirled around, placing a light kiss to her husband’s lips and trailing off into the kitchen.
---
The next morning, Y/N and Fred Weasley were awoken by a large owl knocking at their window, a letter attached to its scrawny leg.
“Oh, it’s from Hogwarts,” Y/N grinned as she opened the window, plucking the letter off of the owl, tipping it with a quick snack, and letting it fly back to where it came from.
She opened the letter and read it aloud;
‘Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,
We are thrilled to inform you that as of last night at 7:03pm, your daughter Ariella Weasley has been sorted into Slytherin House. Headmistress McGonagall would like to send her well-wishes and hopes this letter finds you well.
Forms will be going out next month to students who wish to come home for the Christmas and New Year holidays.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’
Y/N placed the letter down with a smile, her heart thumping loudly, “Hey, she takes after her mother after all! She’s in Slytherin!”
“What?” Fred muttered, his face paler than usual. His hands gripped the bedsheets, “She’s in Slytherin?”
Y/N clutched the letter in her hand and made her way over to the bed, sitting next to him with a smile on her face, oblivious to his lack of enthusiasm.
“That’s great, I’m happy for her. I wonder if I should tell her about the secret passageway next to the fireplace—”
“She’s in Slytherin? Why?” Fred placed his head in his hands as if searching his brain for the answer. Y/N dropped the letter and held onto his wrists, forcing him to look up at her.
“What’s the issue? Why are you so upset she’s in Slytherin?” she tried to hide the hurt in her voice at how lowly he thought of her house. Yes, Slytherin had a reputation, but that was in the past. Y/N had a lot of emerald pride.
“Because — Slytherin, Y/N,” he shook his head, “I mean, come on. Voldemort was Slytherin, Malfoy, Snape, Crabbe and Goyle—”
“So was I,” she crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow, “First off, Voldemort was fifty years before us. Snape’s dead, may he rest in peace, so are Crabbe and Goyle. They made mistakes and paid for them. Not everyone in the house ended up being awful. Every house in Hogwarts has had their share of... troubled wizards. Slytherin happens to have had more, sure, but that’s not the house’s fault. It’s the wizard’s fault.”
Fred didn’t seem calmed by her words, not bothering to hide his distaste for Salazar Slytherin’s house.
“But they’re wicked. They’d cheat at Quidditch, they’d taunt first years, they’d always think they were better than everyone else.”
Y/N didn’t stop glaring at him, “Fred, you can’t be serious. I was a Slytherin and I saved your ass. Alice was Slytherin and she’s now an Auror, Stellan owns a store in Diagon Alley — which may I remind you, you do too.”
“That’s different,” he muttered, turning to face away from her and getting out of bed, “You were good. You’ve always been good. You should have been in Ravenclaw or something.”
“What?” she got up as well, forgetting about the letter on the bed, “What is your problem? Just suck it up and accept the fact that two of the women in your life are Slytherins.”
Without another word, she stormed out of the room and down the stairs, anger fuming from her ears. She knew Fred still held distaste for her house, but she thought that after all these years, he’d be way over it.
She stormed into the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea and grabbing the copy of the Daily Prophet that had been delivered at their doorstep that morning, sitting down at the table and sipping her tea. She looked over the announcements from the Ministry, seeing a few familiar names, and didn’t bother looking up from the newspaper when she noticed Fred begrudgingly walking down the stairs, his feet dragging across the floor as he sat across from her at the dining table.
“Love, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, trying to look at her over the newspaper, “I shouldn’t have said what I did, I was just shocked, I guess.”
“Shocked? Is that what you call shock? Sounds like a grudge, if you ask me,” she replied cooly, still not looking at him.
He sighed, “I overreacted, I know. I don’t know why, I just can’t help but think of them the same way that I did when I was in school.”
“Freddie, you can’t do that,” she finally lowered the paper and placed it aside, “Firstly, it hurts me. Secondly, it’ll hurt Ari as well if you start dissing Slytherin. She was really nervous, she doesn’t want to disappoint you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reached across the table and held her hands gently, “And I don’t want Ari to think I’m disappointed in her. I just — I’ll get over it, I promise.”
---
Over the next few months, Ariella wrote to the two of them, expressing how excited she was to be making friends. She also ranted on for two pages about her love for Transfigurations and Herbology. Her Professor, Neville Longbottom, had been a friend of Fred’s when he was at school.
Fred had grown more used to the fact that his daughter was a Slytherin, and the conversations involving her house were usually pretty short between him and Y/N.
As the Christmas holidays rolled around, Fred and Y/N had decorated the house in preparation to finally have their daughter home. Although they never really lost contact, it had been a long few months for her parents.
“The train’s arriving at two o’clock, Fred! You need to get going!” Y/N whisked him out the door, placing a quick kiss on his lips before returning to the kitchen and continuing the cookies she had been making. It was rare she did them the muggle way, but she had time to spare and thought baking would be fun.
Within the hour, Fred and Ariella arrived through the door, both grinning and red-nosed. Y/N rushed over to her daughter, scooping her up in her arms and squeezing her.
“Mum, ouch,” Ariella giggled, “At least let me take my shoes off.”
Y/N placed her daughter down and started removing her apron, rushing into the kitchen to place the fresh batch of cookies in front of them both. Fred grinned, shoving three of them in his mouth and smiling at Y/N, crumbs falling all over the table.
Ariella grabbed her trunk that Fred brought in and excused herself, rushing upstairs to her room to put it away.
“These are good, they taste like Christmas,” Fred spoke through another mouthful of cookie.
“Fred, don’t eat them all,” Y/N chuckled, moving the plate out of his reach with a smirk, “I haven’t got all holiday to keep making more.”
He sagged his shoulders and sighed dramatically, “Fiiiine.” He walked around the table, pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Ariella came tumbling down the stairs in a mess of green.
“You good?” Y/N asked her daughter, holding back a laugh as Ariella stood up, brushing herself off as if no one noticed her fall.
“Yep, totally,” she walked it off, placing a mess of fabric down on the table, “Anyways, I wanted to show you guys my stuff! Here’s my Slytherin scarf, I usually only wear it to Quidditch games — oh, we beat Hufflepuff real good — and here’s my tie. Getting used to it was weird but I quite like it now. And here’s my sweater that a girl in my house gave to me as a Christmas gift.”
She lifted up the bulky green sweater, showing off the giant Slytherin house crest on the front, “It’ll be my new go-to during matches in the springtime. Slughorn — he’s head of my house — says I’ve got unmatched Slytherin pride! He also says hi, mum.”
Y/N smiled, placing her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, “This is all lovely, darling. I’m glad you’re so proud of your house. And tell Professor Slughorn I say hi back.”
Ariella grinned, picking up the scarf and wrapping it around her neck, tossing her ginger hair over her shoulder and posing, “Doesn’t green just suit me?”
“Of course —”
“We get it, you like Slytherin,” Fred snapped from next to the fridge. He was leaning against it, arms crossed as he watched his daughter flaunt her Slytherin clothing items, a proud grin on her face.
“Fred...” Y/N dropped her head, taking her hand off of her daughter’s shoulder, “Come on, we’ve been over this.”
“Over what?” Ariella piped up, slowly removing her scarf as if she was offending him, “Dad... were you... ashamed that I was placed in Slytherin?”
Fred sighed, avoiding eye contact with her and looking out the window at the slow snowfall. Ariella seemed to take this as a yes, and she dropped the scarf on the table with a defeated sigh.
“Ari, honey, it’s not —”
“It’s fine, I get it,” she scoffed, taking off upstairs with loud footsteps. Y/N flinched as the door slammed shut loudly, rattling the walls of the house. She picked up the scarf on the table, remembering how proud she was when she brought all of her stuff home to show her parents for the first time as well.
“Fred, you need to let this go,” Y/N said softly, not taking her eyes off of the scarf, “You can’t keep denying that she’s not in Gryffindor. I get it, every Weasley has been in that house, but she’s not just a Weasley. She’s a part of me too, and she’s taken after you in every other aspect — her hair, her attitude, her freckles, her laugh — why can’t you accept the fact that for once, she’s taken after me for something?”
Fred seemed to ponder her words. He had never thought about it that way. People always told him about how much she resembled him in every aspect, but it wasn’t often that people said that to Y/N. And now, she watched with pride as her daughter was placed in her old house. It was almost like she could finally see herself in her.
“You’re right,” Fred mumbled, “You’re completely right. Merlin’s beard, I’ve been an idiot.” He wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her into him, hugging her as if his action was louder than his words.
“You have to go tell her that, she’s the one who thinks you’re ashamed.”
Fred pulled away and sighed, running his hand down his face and nodding, “You’re... you’re right. I need to go talk to her. She needs to know that I am proud of her. I always will be. And... that her mum was the most badass Slytherin ever. She’ll take after you there.”
Y/N giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Go tell her that, Freddie.”
“Can you come with me?” his voice was barely above a whisper and Y/N nearly swooned at how desperate he was. Ariella was, no doubt, a daddy’s girl, so having her dad come around and reassure her would mean the world her.
“Of course, love,” Y/N placed a kiss on his cheek and the two of them walked upstairs. She knocked slowly on her door and once a quite ‘come in’ was heard, she opened it and looked down at her daughter. Ariella was sitting on her bed, reading ‘Hogwarts: A History.’
When she saw her parents walk in, both looking apologetic, she placed the book down and sat crosslegged, turning to face them.
“Your dad has something he wants to say,” Y/N nudged Fred forwards. He gave her a grateful nod and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and placing his hands in his lap.
“I’m sorry if you thought I was ashamed,” he started, “I was shocked when we got the letter saying you were in Slytherin, I won’t deny it. When I was at school, the Slytherin students were always cunning, mean, rushing around the halls looking for any reason to torment the people they saw. They cheated, they lied, and eventually, a lot of them ended up working for the Dark Lord. I guess that now, twenty years after my time, I’m still thinking about that side of Slytherin. But then, after I left school, I met your mum. And she changed my opinion completely.”
Y/N sat there in awe, listening to what he had to say.
“She was caring, smart, loyal, funny — everything I wouldn’t expect from a Slytherin. I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though you take after me in every aspect of your physical appearance, I’m glad that your heart is like your mother’s. I’m proud of you.”
Ariella was close to tears, and so was Y/N. She watcher her daughter flail her arms around her dad’s neck and hug him like her life depended on it. Y/N sat by the door, her hand over her heart, and a loving smile on her lips.
She watched the smile spread across Fred’s face as he hugged his daughter back, relieved she wasn’t mad at him.
--
Later that evening, after Ariella had gone to sleep, Y/N and Fred sat on the couch, wrapped in blankets and watching the fire crackle in the fireplace. Her head was leaning against his shoulder, and his head leaning against hers. His hand was on her thigh, rubbing slow circles.
“I love you,” he muttered quietly, “I’m so sorry for everything. I’ve really been an idiot.”
“You have, but it’s fine,” she giggled, leaning up to face him, “I still love you.”
And she really did, with all her heart.
Who knew these two were so perfect for each other?
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Layla Headcanons:
Everyone, meet Princess Layla Poole of Andros.
She’s the best surfer this side of the Magical Dimension and an excellent escape artist. (Do you have any idea how hard it is to escape from a castle to go out and just breathe without someone watching over you? It’s pretty freaking hard.)
Layla’s probably one of the few voices of reason within the Winx group, and one of the more mature ones.
(All headcanons relate to my main “Balance/Company of Light” verse and my “Left” verse.)
-Believe it or not, Layla can breathe for a set amount of time underwater/hold her breath for long periods of time. She is sort of half-merperson after all. (Her father, Teredor, is what they call a ‘land-walker’ merperson. He mastered the spell that the merpeople can use to turn their tails into feet. He was actually next in line for the MerKingdom’s throne, but he fell in love with Niobe and managed to leave his own throne for his younger brother Neptune and take to the ‘land throne’ with Niobe.)
-Layla’s body can actually form scales if she’s in the water for a long enough period of time. (Like how most people start getting pruney-like when in the water? Layla starts to scale. Hers are a lovely seafoam color and shine brighter than Stella’s favorite necklace.)
-Growing up, she was close to her cousins. Nereus and Tritannus acted like her older brothers and taught her so much about the underwater world as well as life in general. And she and Tressa were practically sisters. (This changed after they all became teenagers, especially when it started becoming apparent that Tritannus and his father were falling out.)
-Layla wasn’t always so sheltered. She used to be able to go on trips with her parents to other realms and used to be allowed to explore around the MerKingdom with her cousins without any repercussions.
-That changed after Layla turned 7. Rumors of remaining Coven members being spotted around Andros made her parents wary and then there was an attempted kidnapping of Layla by a group of sirens who had been known to work closely with Tharma happened… After that, Layla became a bit of a prisoner in her own home because her parents were so afraid of something happening to her.
-Layla was early to get her powers (5), and early to gain her first fairy form (12). Niobe and her most trusted court members took to training her in her fairy magic, wanting her to be able to believe in her own abilities as a fairy. (And hope it would translate into her abilities as a princess and a queen.)
-When she was younger, Layla used to ask for a younger sibling. Her parents had to explain that it was hard enough for them to have her, that they were afraid of risking trying to have another. (Even land-walkers and ‘humans’ have issues with fertility. Layla had been such a blessing to them, their last attempt to have a “natural” child.)
-Layla has already had her Princess Ball, but it was vastly different from Stella’s. She had little-to-no say in what happened as her parents were going for a strictly traditional Androsian Ball. The only upside was her cake and that Tressa was there with her.
-Anne was her first friend after she’d been put into ‘lockdown’ by her parents. (And was sort of her first crush. But it’s nice knowing they’ll be close again after Anne married Nabu’s older sister.)
-Layla’s favorite activity/sport may be dancing, but she has many others she’s in love with. Swimming. Water polo. Surfing. Tide Bombing. Androsian Wave Skiing. Water Races. Synchronized Swimming. (Basically, she loves all the water sports. And is pretty decent at them, if she does say so herself.)
-She’s currently really into a few Earth sports right now too. Tennis, volleyball, and MMA.
-She’s also working on her leaf surfing skills and her abilities as a swordswoman. (She’s great at the agility part and keeping on her toes, but she still needs to work on her timing when attacking and trying to defend herself.)
-Layla discovered the pixies and befriended them before her lockdown happened. She’d been with her parents in Magix. They had been on an important meeting with the Council and she was supposed to be with her nanny/Fairy Godmother. But Layla wanted adventure and snuck off into the forest. She ended up running into Queen Ninfea and finding Pixie Village. (And meeting Piff.) Needless to say, she made friends for life.
-And Layla knew when the pixies went missing. She could feel something deep inside of her was wrong when she couldn’t connect to Piff and hadn’t heard from Chatta or Tune in a few days. (The pixies had been allowed to visit with her and write to her after her mother’s own pixie, Ariella, vouched that they were real pixies from Pixie Village and not some sort of imposters.)
-Anyway, Layla did what she usually did to escape from the Androsian Palace, leaving when the guards changed shifts and while her parents were busy holding court. From there she managed to get to Pixie Village and talk Ninfea into helping her create a teleportation spell into ShadowHaunt. (We all know what happened after.)
-Layla and her parents had a very long and awkward conversation after Layla woke up in good condition at Alfea. They had been so worried and had been so relieved that Faragonda had been the one to find and house their daughter… But after hearing what she’d gone through and how she managed to do so much and still survive… It made them realize that Layla is growing up and that she is a powerful and capable fairy. (Which is how she managed to convince them to let her stay at Alfea, though it didn’t hurt that she mentioned who her new friends were and who her friends’ parents were/are.)
-(Layla still has nightmares regarding ShadowHaunt and the pixies, but after the realm was returned to its true nature, the nightmares started dying down… Until Nabu almost died that is.)
-She used to be so against marriage because she knew about the whole ‘arranged marriage’ ideas her realm had. And when her parents tried to force her into one, it really struck a nerve because of the hypocrisy. After all, they chose their own partners, why couldn’t she?! (Which prompted another conversation with her parents. One that required both parties to open their minds and hearts.)
-(Thankfully, she and Nabu did end up choosing each other… Though she wishes her dad didn’t get along so well with Nabu and that her mother didn’t try to show him baby pictures of her. Honestly, the audacity of her parents.)
-Layla may like seafood (because seafood is a staple of Androsian society), but after being with the other Winx girls, she’s found she really loves the varieties of veggie meals from Linphea. Especially the wraps. (She threatened to marry Flora when the other girl introduced them to her. She was so in love.)
-She and Musa love to jam out together (especially since Layla got her drum set). They actually sound really lovely together and it gets even better when they can talk Tecna into joining in with her keyboard.
-Layla absolutely loves to ride the Sea Hodeaas her uncle Neptune and aunt Ligea have stabled up. It’s the best way to travel underwater and the animals are so majestic. (And yes, they are a breed of seahorse, but a seahorse mixed with those sea dragon things on earth. Just imagine that merger and imagine them to be the equivalent size of a normal horse. Just underwater.)
-No. Layla cannot talk to sea creatures. Not without a spell in place. Please stop asking. (Dammit if you want to talk to animals, Roxy is right fucking there.)
-Layla isn’t thin either. She’s muscular. And she looks fabulous in ballgowns. Eat shit haters.
-If Stella is the snacker of the group, Layla is the one always reminding people to stay hydrated and has like ten water bottles on her at any given time.
-Layla is the friend that if you wanna go do something potentially stupid just to see if you can do it, she’d be down for it. (Granted, she’ll tell you all the ways this could probably go wrong and you all end up dead, but she’s all for seeing what her body can handle. No, she’s not a masochist. She’s just curious.)
-She can sing. But she doesn’t do it often because if she hits a certain pitch, it could be almost… Hypnotic… (Which isn’t fun to explain.)
-Layla may wear heels to formal events, but she’d rather wear her sneakers or flip-flops any day of the week. Seriously, please just let her wear her comfy shit.
-We all know Layla is competitive in sports… She’s also competitive in video games and in board games. (The other girls have a constantly updating list of games Layla and Tecna are no longer allowed to play together.)
-Layla was the most excited about their Earth adventure to find Roxy. It gave her an excuse to be away from Andros for a bit and just be her. (That summer had been a bit, intense. As the Crown Princess and an adult, her parents had been bringing her in more and more on the business aspect of being a Princess.)
-(She loves her crown and her title, and she loves her people and her world… But sometimes it seems like an overwhelming job to be queen and she’s so terrified of doing something wrong that will endanger everyone she cares about or that she’ll end up accidentally offending an important socialite/delegate/ambassador.)
-Stella is good at the people-aspect of being a princess, so she’s been great at helping Layla get over her nerves on the subject and how to be herself while still being princess. And Layla has helped Stella better understand the more political/tactical portions of being a princess. (And together they’ve helped Bloom become more okay with being a princess.)
-Layla has her major fear of being alone and of failure (which we’ve seen when she gained her Charmix), but she has a few minor things… Like she’s a bit claustrophobic thanks to her time in ‘lockdown’ and she has a thing about being late to important events. She’s also working on her public speaking issues… It’s a work in progress.
-Her favorite classes in Alfea involved flying and physical education. Flying always made her feel free and graceful, and almost as powerful as if she were underwater. And the physical classes helped her get rid of her nearly endless energy.
-Layla is a bit hot-headed for an Androsian (who are known for being cool and go-with-the-flow), but she just feels things so deeply and it rocks her to core. (Part of it may be due to the pressures of being a princess and having to try and always do and say the right thing, part of it may be due to being watched so carefully as a child, but she just can’t let things go sometimes and rather than nurse a grudge, she’d rather just have it out and be done.)
-Her goal is to be a great queen when her time to rule comes. But she doesn’t want to necessarily be queen like her mother who tended to rule out of fear. (Layla gets why, she does. She’s met members of the Coven and knows why her mother and father were terrified, but she refuses to be someone who lets it make all of her decisions.) She’ll listen to her fears, sure, and try to rule accordingly, but she doesn’t ever want it to hinder her from making great decisions about Andros or her future children. (If she has any. She and Nabu are still trying to figure out if they want them or if they’d rather wait awhile and adopt.)
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Syllabus: Creating Documentary Performance
Course Title: Performance Composition: Creating Documentary Performance
PERF-UT 201 (4 points)
Course Description
The term documentary theatre is often used interchangeably with verbatim theatre. Theatre scholar Carol Martin would advise us to beware and keep tabs on Documentary Theatre, a slippery little devil which claims to present the truth. Yet, in truth, the world of Documentary Theatre (and Art) seems to be expanding. New works of live Documentary Art challenge the documentary form by loosening the grip of journalistic objectivity and responsibility. Documentary performance now takes on a variety of forms which we will examine in this course.
This course will begin with ways of observing a range of performances (live, filmed, quotidian, and archival). We will then integrate this heightened awareness into an hybridized archival call-and-response. We will have daily in-class creation workshops designed to respond to research and performance materials. Through this process students will learn to integrate research questions and aesthetic performance elements. Participants will engage in documentary writing techniques, performance techniques such as vocal duplication and movement vocabularies, creation of composition scores, and docu-fantasia (a methodology pioneered by Guy Maddin in his film “My Winnipeg” combining personal history, civic tragedy, and mystical hypothesizing), among others. The result of these searches will be cumulative. At the end of this course, students will have created several short-form documentaries.
Participants in this course will come from various performance backgrounds: some (like me) will be based in theatre practice, others will be more comfortable writing, composing music or movement, directing, acting, or filmmaking. This course is designed for much of the creation of our projects to take place in the classroom itself with students sharing their skills with one another as they learn new skills together.
Course Objectives
to become familiar with the field of documentary performance
to develop and deepen investigative research skills
to learn to create performances from disparate elements (learn processes of meaning-making)
to generate “speculative” material from “factual” remains
to move archival materials from the page to the stage (or lens/screen as the case may be)
Requirements
You need a notebook or loose paper. We will do writing exercises that will be edited and presented during class. It will not be possible to participate fully in movement/writing work on a laptop.
You will need scissors and a glue stick.
Please see the class schedule below. Please come to class having completed the listed requirements (read, watched, and prepared performance elements) and come prepared to share your findings and contribute to discussions, workshops, and rehearsals.
There will be four assignments due during the course:
a) construction paper photo journalism
Using lessons on image composition from Molly Bang’s “Picture This,” recreate one image from one of the documentaries or images we viewed during weeks 1-4 (or an image of your choice). Write a brief but vivid description of the scene you hope to capture. Upload both the original and your version of the image as well as the description. This image is due on February 21, 2021.
b) 360 degree video (maximum 5-minutes long)
Create a three-minute long 360 degree video of your own living space (use Ackerman’s video for inspiration). Research the history of your living space (What is the history of that land? When was the building constructed? Who owned it? Who lived there?) and then write a two-minute monologue from the point of view of someone you image to be a previous tenant. This is the basis of the performance. You may choose to incorporate other performance elements created in the course thus far (movement vocabularies, musical elements, etc.). The video should be submitted via email on week 5, a 500 word summary of building history including sources is due on week 6, and the final performance is due on March 21, 2021.
c) Documentary Étude (maximum 10-minutes long)
Seek out your own musical archive (this might be something personal, something you amassed yourself or something you discover out in the world) and using strategies developed in class (ex. haikus, nightstand writings, movement vocabularies) and other techniques learned from docs we’ve seen (vocal re-enactments, karaoke, performance re-creation, etc.) create a live documentary étude to the song or recording of your choice. This étude should include research into the song and, based on that research, some theories we have discussed in class that help analyze your findings. The way you structure this presentation is entirely up to you. Due April 26-May 3, 2021 (exact date to be decided upon by in consultation between students and instructor).
d) performance review
The final assignment for this class is a 1000-1200 word review of another classmate’s documentary performance. The point of this assignment is to constructively critique a colleague’s work while integrating the texts and theories we have discussed during the course. This is to be submitted to the instructor via email on or before the final day of class (May 10, 2020).
Attendance in this class is critical. Much work takes place in-class and this cannot necessarily be made-up through subsequent assignments. More than three unexcused absences will result in a failing grade. Absences must be excused in advance, please make your request via email. Likewise three unexcused latenesses will count as one absence. Assignments are due on the date specified unless a change is discussed in advance with the instructor.
Class Schedule
Week One: February 1, 2021
Introduction to Documentary Theatre
A short documentary performance: Devotional Space
Course Introduction, Expectations, and Agreements
Week Two: February 8, 2021
Truth, Objectivity, and the Truth of Fiction
Read, Carol Martin, “Bodies of Evidence” and Walter Benjamin “The Task of the Translator”
Watch, Lynn Sachs, “Your Day Is My Night” https://vimeo.com/58024122 and “Your Day Is My Night” (live performance) https://vimeo.com/191185422
Week Three: Thursday February 18, 2021
Objects That Talk
Read, Roland Barthes “Studium” pg. 23-28, “Punctum” pg. 38-47 in Camera Lucida, Ariella Azoulay “The Spectator Is Called to Take Part,” and Molly Bang “Picture This: How Pictures Work”
Watch, Yuval Hamieri “I Think This is the Closest to How The Footage Looked” https://www.nytimes.com/video/opinion/100000004383825/i-think-this-is-the-closest-to-how-the-footage-looked.html and Vaginal Davis “This Is Not A Dream” https://youtu.be/A03i57f53E4
Week Four: February 22, 2021
Interpellation and Composition
Read, Joshua Whitehead “On Ekphrasis and Emphasis” and Louis Althusser “Ideology and State Apparatuses” pg. 162-177
Watch, Kirsten Johnson “Cameraperson” https://stream.nyu.edu/media/Cameraperson+-+DML+Film+DC04692/1_6j3rpjc7
DUE February 21, 2021: Construction Paper Photo Journalism Assignment
Week Five: March 1, 2021
Memory and Repetition
Read, Diana Taylor “The Archive and The Repertoire” pg. 16-30 and Richard Schechner “Restoration of Behavior” pg. 35-55
Watch, Caveh Zahedi “The Show About The Show"
PREPARE AND UPLOAD before class: 360 video
Week Six: March 8, 2021
Docufantasia: Speculation, Narrative, and History
Guest Speaker: Farihah Zaiman
No readings this week.
Watch, Farihah Zaiman “Nobody Loves Me”, Guy Maddin “My Winnipeg” https://stream.nyu.edu/media/t/1_3fuaywbk/157165221, and Chantal Ackerman “La Chambre” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8AGakyb3eBU
BRING TO CLASS: Write, a few notes on building/land history
Week Seven: March 15, 2021
No Class
Feedback sessions on Building History text/monologue available during class and office hours
Week Eight: March 22, 2021
Presentation Day
Guest Speaker: Alison S.M. Kobayashi
Watch, Alison S.M. Kobayashi Showcase, please be sure to watch “From Alex to Alex” and “Music Is Magic”
DUE March 21st: 360 videos & monologues assignment (uploaded to shared site)
Week Nine: March 29, 2021
Psychodrama and the Politics of Space
Suggested Read: Ngugi wa Thiong’o, “Enactments of Power: The Politics of Performance Space”
Watch: William Greaves, “In The Company of Men” https://stream.nyu.edu/media/In%20the%20Company%20of%20Men%20(William%20Greaves%2C%201969)./1_13usuirk
Week Ten: April 5, 2021
Creating a Performance Plan
Read: Barbara Browning “The Gift” (read Part One available in NYU e-books) and Doris Humphrey “Check List” pg. 159-166
Watch (we will watch segments of this in class): Okwui Okpokwasili “Bronx Gothic” available on NYU Kanopy
Week Eleven: April 12, 2021
Listening as Research
Read, Martin Daughtry “Acoustic Palimpsests”; (suggested but not assigned Alexandra T. Vazquez “Listening in Detail”)
Listen, Reply All (podcast) “The Case of the Missing Hit” https://gimletmedia.com/shows/reply-all/o2h8bx
Week Twelve: April 19, 2021
No Class
Week 13: April 26, 2021
Documentary Étude
Read, Jacob Wren “The DJ Who Knew Too Much” and “Every Song I’ve Ever Written”
Re-watch, Alison S.M. Kobayashi “Music Is Magic”
Students workshop elements of their final performance
Create final performance schedule
Week 14: May 3, 2021
Final Presentations
Week 15: May 10, 2021
To Be Announced
Additional Performance Links
Choosing performances to share with you was both a joy and an agony. There were many great works that didn’t make it onto the syllabus proper. I wanted to share some of those with you here in case you wanted see more work. You are more than welcome to come to office hours to discuss any works you may have seen (on this list or in your own searchings). Additional performance viewing is not a requirement of this class and is meant solely for your enjoyment.
The Wooster Group, “Rumstick Road”: https://vimeo.com/88116889
Nature Theatre of Oklahoma, “The Life and Times of Kristin Worrall, Episode 8”: https://vimeo.com/145414310
Caveh Zahedi, “The Show About The Show": https://www.bricartsmedia.org/tv-shows-videos/show-about-show
Walis Johnson, “Jessy’s House of Styles”: https://vimeo.com/193445572
Nadia Ross “What Happened To The Seeker?”, Part one: https://vimeo.com/147670008 , Part two: https://vimeo.com/148387633
Wellness
Your health and safety are a priority at NYU. If you experience any health or mental health issues during this course, we encourage you to utilize the support services of the 24/7 NYU Wellness Exchange 212-443-9999. Also, all students who may require an academic accommodation due to a qualified disability, physical or mental, please register with the Moses Center 212-998-4980. Please let your instructor know if you need help connecting to these resources.
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“The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, is in its loyalty to each other.”
■ ABOUT. ■
name: Vera Wright
age: thirty-six
occupation: owner of The Wright Stuff Cafe
gender: cis-female
pronouns: she/her
sexuality: heterosexual
■ HISTORY. ■ tw: suicide
Vera grew up in a small town in the state of Connecticut, she and her sisters were the daughters of two relatively wealthy and successful lawyers. Her parents, Amelia and Ariella, wanted to raise a family together. They asked one of their close friends to be their sperm donor so that they could have a biological child of their own. When he agreed to do so, her parents gave birth to the couple’s first child. Vera’s mothers believed that it was of utmost importance for their daughter to have the best education possible – and that meant starting at an early age. Adella was sent to a prestigious pre-school and daycare that advertised that they taught their student's multiple languages and engaged them in artistic and musical activities. When Vera was four years old, her mother chose to adopt a set of twins, who had recently been taken into social services. Like any other child, Vera needed to adjust to the fact that her parents would need to divide their attention towards the twins.
Growing up with a set of twins, was different, her younger siblings were loud and extroverts, meanwhile, Vera enjoyed spending time on her own. She often focused her attention on writing short stories or playing music, and as she grew older, she preferred spending time working on schoolwork or solitary activities as opposed to being around her loud family members. When she’d set her sights at going to Yale University, she didn’t find it difficult to get higher grades since all she liked to do was study. The days he was accepted into their English program was one of the best days of her life. It was the beginning of her story, or so she liked to call it. On her first day on campus, she sat next to a boy named Nathan Wright. During the first class, it was obvious that he was a bit of a class clown, throughout the semester he continued to sit next to her. Vera began to look forward to that class. Despite how mundane and boring the content was, Nathan was able to make it exciting. One the last day of their twelve-week course, he finally asked her out.
She dated Nathan for almost six years before he asked her to marry him. The two were married for another few years though it only felt like months to her. Nathan enlisted himself to the army and received his first mission only weeks after their honeymoon. Vera loved Nathan and missed him greatly, though she knew he was living the career of his dreams overseas. The day she received the phone call that he’d been hurt, was the worst possible day. She didn’t have a clue what happened, or if her husband was okay. Hours of radio silence went by like months. Finally, she was informed her husband was being sent home, discharged from any further service. Vera was so incredibly relieved he was coming home. When he did, their life together wasn’t the same, for weeks they were in and out of the hospital due to his injury. When they were finally able to be with one another at home after he was healed. She noticed that her husband wasn’t the same man who left six months prior. He’d been on a few tours before, though this past one was by far the worst.
Vera noticed how distant her husband had become, which broke her heart since she waited months to be in the same room as the man she’d loved for so many years and his distance gave her the impression she wasn’t wanted anymore. She refused to believe that and knew something else was wrong. For months she tried to help him, she offered herself in so many ways. It was rare she even saw a smile on his face. After weeks, she encouraged a date night. A night where they would dress up, and be together like they used to. It was something she’d wanted for weeks, and she was so happy when Nathan finally agreed. Their date night was incredible in comparison to their recent conversations. Her husband had begun smiling and telling jokes, for the first time in what felt like forever. She thought her husband was turning around. Until it, all came crashing down twenty-four hours later.
■ WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON? ■
After her date night with her husband, she woke up the next morning feeling hopeful that her marriage might turn around and be close to what it used to be before Nathan embarked on his recent tour. In the middle of the afternoon, she received a phone call from the police. The policeman broke the news of how they found her husband in the nearby forest with strong beliefs he took his own life. Vera had never felt so broken before. She didn’t know it was possible to be so broken. She herself couldn’t cope with the loss of her husband, to this day, she sometimes blames herself for not doing more to help him. She couldn’t go back home, to the house they’d purchased together. For months she stayed with her sister while paying the bills for the house she was too afraid to walk into. It wasn’t until half a year after her husband's death did she finally re-enter the house, without thinking twice, her first instinct was the start packing. She packed everything but Nathan’s closet. She had movers do it for her. They packed boxes and she left them in a storage unit. One she still pays for today, no matter how much she was trying to work on herself three years later. She couldn’t let go.
■ KEEP THIS AWAY FROM YOUR ENEMIES ■
Vera didn’t believe she’d be the type to live in a big city, she grew up in a small town in the state of Connecticut and often considered New Haven to be a large city. She always thought that she and her husband would settle down in a small town, own a farm, and raise a family. She did live out a small portion of that dream before it all came crashing down. It’s been a few years since her husband’s death, and she’s trying to learn new things, about the world and about herself. She sold everything and moved to New York to fulfill her dream of owning a successful bakery. She named the establishment in her husband's honour since he used to always make fun of how she slept. It was an inside joke that carried on for more of their relationship. She often talked in her sleep, which brought on the nickname Dream Bean. Being in the city, all she wanted was to explore more of herself, in a way that was new and exciting.
■ RELATIONSHIPS. ■
■ Tim McCallen: Since opening day, Tim has become one of her regulars, he was a nice guy, who she believed deserved the world. She often sees him as a little brother, she loves to pry on his personal life, primarily his love life. He deserves to find love and a part of her wanted to help him find that.
■ Jack Mercer: Vera and her husband hung out with Jack and his wife any possible chance they could when both men were home. Of course, while they were overseas, Vera would spend a lot of time with Jacks’ wife. She understood more than most what she was feeling when Nathan was away. Now, she and Jack were more alike than she’d ever imagined.
■ Mia Miller: Vera has seen Mia around on mic nights many many times. She finds her to be a true talent and supports her career as much as she can.
■ CONNECTIONS. ■
■ Polly Alcott > Friend
■ Jessica Douglas > Regular Customer
■ Foster Richman > Friend
■ Sofia Meza > Acquaintance
Vera Wright is a TAKEN character and is portrayed by Bethany Joy Lenz who’s FC IS SEMI-NEGOTIABLE.
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Representation
So, peeps, I am writing a series of books and in my second book I have introduced a non-binary character however I want to make sure that I written this character correctly so... I will show you an extract of a scene they’re in and if there is anything wrong with it, please let me know :))
Here it is...
***********************************************************
The Outfitter then sauntered out from behind the wardrobe doors. There were many littered about the large open room, all in different sizes with different numbers and symbols painted on the sides. Golden door knobs and silver fittings, quite beautiful actually. The Outfitter was a tall, lanky figure with painted nails, different colours and shades that changed colours depending on the light. They sauntered down the red carpet that was laid across the ground, gripping onto the poles and security ropes, their eyes were studying me.
“Ariella, darling!” They cheered. “How are you doing on this fine day, night? Evening? I’m never sure.”
Ariella let go off my hand and butterfly kissed the Outfitter, “Absolutely scrumptious, darling. I’m sorry about not visiting as much but... I have someone to make it up to you.”
I gulped as they approached me, smacking their lips as they did so.
“You… must be… the Nightingale.” They pointed, smirking in glee.
I didn’t move as they breathed on me, the hot breath making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Er, yes, I think.” I smiled awkwardly. “And you are…?”
“Call me the Outfitter, darling.” They held out a hand. I shook it then smiled at them.
“Ariella.” The Outfitter clapped their hands together, “Is Miss Evelynn our new-”
“Fighter?” Ariella interrupted. “Why, yes!”
The Outfitter nodded approvingly, “I must say Miss Evelynn that I have not had someone new to dress in a very long time. The fighting business is not what it used to be... “ They stopped, and turned around, stroking the wardrobes as they walked up to the large standing mirror on the other side of the room. “Now, what to do? What to do? I suppose that the hair should go…”
“My hair?” I muttered, feeling a lock of my hair in my fingers.
“People seem to slice their own hair off in the ring,” they scoffed, “So stupid. Might as well chop it off, but I make it stylish no?”
Ariella giggled, clapping her hands together, “I like it.”
“Tattoo of course.” The Outfitter marveled in the mirror, stroking their own reflection.
“I have one.” I gestured to my tattoo on my arm.
Ariella batted me off, “No, darling, every fighter has to have the sleeve. It’s tradition.”
The Outfitter scoffed, “Tradition is a funny thing. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Evelynn?”
“Well, yes. Yes I do.” I agreed with them. “Tradition has never really been one of my fortes.”
The Outfitter gazed at my face through the mirror. They took a marker out of their many pockets of the cloak that hung over their slender frame. Taking it to the mirror, the Outfitter drew over my face, drawing a new hairstyle on the mirror, they swapped the colour of ink and drew spirals over my arm. They studied what they had constructed and smiled in a pleasant manner.
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I've been in a soft!chris mood here lately. Do you have any fic recs Dest??❤️
of course i do!!! i'm not good at remembering specific fics, so i'd recommend just checking out these lovely peoples' masterlists for some good stuff 😋
@onsunnyside @cityofstqrs @miss-ariella @misscaptainamericana (lit rally has one of my fave series i've read) @steviesnight-time @vintagestarlight @reginaphalange2403 @payperhearts @egcdeath @eternal-sunshine00 @carpediemm-18 @jurassicbarnes @kthynes @agentofbarnes @dadplease @andysbubba @rodrikstark @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @nony-bear @rocketrhap3000 @chrissquares @sylvie-writes @ozarkthedog @bluemusickid @k-evans-writes @demonpoxballad @chrissyevanss @secretswiftymarvelfan @fluffycutecevans @knifevsstageprop @toastedkiwi
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The Conqueror Wyrms: Chapter 2
“An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears”
Sarai slipped into the kitchen and pulled an apron over her head.
“Lose another bet your grace?”
A pair of hands reached up and helped her with the strings.
“Yeah, baker’s dozen. I really thought Luna was going to win this time, Bau.”
She turned to return the pleasant, grandfatherly smile of Baucifus, the royal baker.
“Your little girlfriend always seems to know who to put her money on, your grace, were I in your shoes, I’d stop betting against her.”
“Ariella always bets on Davlamin because he’s her future Captain. Luna will get the best of him one day, then we’ll see who’s feeding who.”
Bau smiled and pulled out a fresh sheet of dough.
The pair went about the preparations in casual silence. Sarai had been coming here since she was a child, always with her father. Ezran had nothing but respect for the man, and had taught that same respect to her. Bau always played at being upset with father, but she knew better. She had asked him to teach her to back five years ago now, when she had watched him joyfully adding the delectable filling to his signature sweet. It had become something of an escape for her, when she found the duties of being princess too taxing. But she also did it for fun. The joy of creating something with her own hands that brought happiness to others was something she absolutely loved. And then there was Bau, who was like family to her.
When the two of them were working, nothing else seemed to exist beyond their kitchen.
Sarai wiped a bit of sweat from her brow, just as an arm reached over her shoulder to dip into one of the freshly finished tarts.
“Strawberry? My favorite.”
Sarai turned, brandishing the rolling pin like a club, only to lock eyes with her father.
“Dad! Those are for Ariella!” She lowered the weapon, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
King Ezran gasped, feigning disappointment.
“And here I thought you were going to surprise your old man with a snack! So, I take it Lunelle lost again?”
Sarai dusted off her hands, leaning against the table.
“To be fair, Davlamin has more actual combat experience. He’s been on the field. Not to mention he’s been training with General Marcos since he could walk. Lunelle only gets training when she’s in Xadia with auntie Rayla.”
Ezran nodded.
“Good assessment. And knowing all that you still support your cousin over the fighter with the obvious advantage?”
Sarai nodded.
“People underestimate Luna. One of these days that will work to her advantage.”
Ezran smiled.
“And because she’s family, and you love her.”
Sarai giggled.
“Obviously dad. But the crown cannot place loyalty to family over loyalty to the people and justice.”
It was Ezran’s turn to laugh.
“Listening to your mother. Very wise, Sarai. But remember this, we should think of the whole world as our family. When it comes down to it, we are all one people, regardless of the accident of our birth. Out there, in the real world, there are no boundaries, no borders. Those are just imaginary lines on parchment that make people believe that we’re separate, divided, different. But we’re not, not in any way that truly matters.”
Sarai quirked her eyebrow.
“What about humans and elves? They’re pretty different.”
Ezran smiled.
“Do you think so? They may look different, think different, but both elves and humans get hungry, get sleepy, they both get cold, or hot, or happy, or sad. They both fall in love. Think about your aunt and uncle. When I was a child no one would have ever thought that a human and an elf could fall in love, have a child. Now, humans and elves are getting married and having children all across the land. The world is always changing Sarai. Maybe one day people won’t need imaginary lines on parchment anymore.”
Sarai considered her father’s words seriously. It was an admirable dream, one that her parents fought for tooth and nail. Maybe when she was queen she could see it through.
“How has the meeting?” She asked after a moment.
Ezran sighed.
“A bunch of old people arguing about something that they already know needs doing, because pride won’t let them admit that they know it. One of these days, you’ll have to start sitting in one them with me, and you’ll see. Old people can be annoyingly slow.”
Sarai laughed along with her father. Ezran placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, looking deep into his daughter’s eyes.
“For now, focus on being young and free, darling. Responsibility will come in time.”
She nodded.
“Why do we bow when we accept the crown?”
“Because it’s the only time we are allowed to show the weight of that burden.” Sarai responded. It was an adage she’d been taught since she was a girl.
Lunelle stood alone on the north tower, looking out over the city at the afternoon sun. The door opened and closed behind her.
“Alright, elf, I hope you’re ready to lose.”
Lunelle turned, smirking at Davlamin.
“Mighty confident, aren’t we, human? But this isn’t a sword fight, luck decides in cards.”
Dav chuckled.
“It certainly does. And I’ve been incredibly lucky today.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it, and you know it. Deal, and we’ll see who loses to who now.”
The first two rounds went to Lunelle. The third to Davlamin. Before long they had to pause to light the lantern she’d brought up.
They passed hours, playing cards and chatting casually. Davlamin told stories about his adventures with the Peacekeepers.
“So, there we were, surrounded by Separatist, just me and General Janai. There were too many of them to count. I’d lost my steel sword. I was bleeding. Suddenly, there was a horn, and the roaring of battle cries. A storm of hoof beats. Commander Gren had received our distress call. We were saved.”
Lunelle exhaled, and realized that she’d been holding her breath since Dav had sent the messenger in the story.
“How exciting! You must have been terrified.”
Davlamin nodded, smiling in a way that did not quite touch his eyes.
“I was. I’d all but given up hope of getting out alive. But Janai didn’t. She told me there was no room for doubt in battle. No room for fear. She told me all that exists is myself and the enemy. All else is worthless.”
Lunelle sighed.
“I wish dad would give up already and let me join. I could do so much on the battlefield, next to you and Commander Gren and General Janai.”
She flicked her wrist and suddenly her short swords were in her hands.
“I could help you put down the Separatists once and for all, and see the Kingdoms unified.”
Davlamin sighed.
“It’s not what you think. It sounds glamorous, right? But it’s not. It’s scary, and painful, and all the other horrible things. If there were a way to end this without bloodshed, I’d pick that any day.”
Lunelle flicked the blades shut and stashed them on her belt.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Davlamin began picking up the cards.
“Anyways, it’s late, and General Amaya said we’re pulling out tomorrow. I’d better get some rest.”
Lunelle stretched, standing.
“Yeah, I suppose you should. It’s been good seeing you Dav, in case I miss you tomorrow.”
Davlamin smirked.
“You’ll miss me alright. Should I leave an address for you to send me your tearful love letters?”
Lunelle smirked and punched his shoulder hard.
“As if!”
They shared a warm laugh before the door swung opened and a guard stepped through.
“Captain Davlamin, Archmage Callum requests an audience.”
Davlamin and Lunelle exchanged a glance before Davlamin nodded and Started down the stairs.
(AN: I originally intended to do some sketches with each chapter. Then I started writing feverishly. So, chapters now, art later.)
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Happy birthday!!!! I am so happy to have met you, you are so creative and kind and talented! I hope today has been treating you well!
You are such an angel, thank you so much for sending this in my sweets!! Honestly, seeing you in my inbox or ims or on my dash always makes me smile and I am also in mild amounts of awe you manage to write and plot and scheme and be so sweet and friendly always with so much on your plate you deserve all the kudos. Mom squad unite.
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Second thoughts on posting the dark fic. I'm really not sure as I felt discouraged lately. I almost press the delete but is more of a story for myself. Sometimes whenever I look back on the fic, I wonder how many angry people will snap 😂💜📚
I end up crying a lot after I wrote for my second oc completely. I haven't cried in a long time for awhile and I don't remember when was the last time I cried. I did cry for my third oc Ariella completely b/c that was half related to my real life experience and the way I was coping. Yeah most fics got pretty damn personal
Maybe that's why some people said my fanfiction isn't really a fanfiction and too personal or said my story ideas wasn't that great or my characters b/c was too personal. How does people cope with theirs when things get personal in real life? I use writing as a way to really cope and I use writing to let go of everything just like venting.
Then said even my Roleplay stories was crap and the way I depict characters was butchered. I been feeling rather a lot of discouragement lately and a lot of uncertainty with high doubts that I'm not really sure. But I know people say that to me before and now out of jealousy b/c people are unhappy. I have many remarks about it back then.
That's why I also on and off writing. Yeah, I do feel like hugs these days and I can say my own emotions have been quite a mess lately. I don't talked b/c I don't feel like it. People give you that weird look when you opened and after that you're like: what's the point if people don't take you seriously. Sometimes people just want empathy and no judgement and not everyone understands the real you completely.
Anyway, I wished I have more off days unfortunately I don't. I enjoyed writing hurt/comfort for ocs and I really have that strong nudge to write fluffs romance. Something that is meaningful. My dreams have been just really weird this week too.
I do plan to extend more for my three ocs. But I haven't got the chance to write about it. I did attempt a Hawaii Five-0 and Transformers but I feel weird about it when I combine both fandoms together. I'm definitely ready to sleep. But I really do miss writing. Writing to me means everything but I don't take it like a job. If fanfiction is a job, I become a real crazy lady 🤣 and will be super excited.
I think many of us writers would be very excited if fanfiction is a job for us. 😂💜 That I have no problem. Is why I encourage good writers to extend good stories b/c is a rare sight to see good stories around on fanfiction and archive of our own.
But I can be really picky completely. Night all. I'm like on the I'm done mood. I have also a habit on walking away a lot to everything. 😴📚✍️
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The Wordsworth ask meme was really interesting, you should do Ariella too!
My other favorite!!! We’ll act like she’s alive.
01. Name: Ariella Lucida Consolas (formerly Ariella Mariah Lucidas)02. Nickname(s): Air, Snowy (almost always goes by Ariel or Ariella)03. Gender/Species: Female, Skeleton monster04. Sexuality: Heterosexual, only attracted to other skeletons and elementals 05. Best Friend: Gertrude, the dragon lady who co-owns the butcher shop, and Wordsworth, her husband. 06. Relationship Status: Married to Wordsworth, formerly engaged to another guy07: Crush/Significant Other: Wordsworth (my otp 08. Least Favourite Person: The man who owns the grocery stall across from the butcher shop - he’s condescending and kept trying to sabotage their business until her and Gertrude went out all fire and ice to haze him. 09. Favourite Food: Unfortunately, said annoying man makes a killer sweet potato casserole. She’s been trying to steal the recipe. 10. Favourite Place: There are caverns on near the coast that fill with water. Interesting creatures live there, many of which give off light that reflects off the water in gorgeous patterns and colors. It’s quiet, surreal and far removed from the rest of the world (despite only being a few yards below). She also loves the bowels of Queen Ytt’s palace - the air is cool and dry and the stone shows the marks of generations of workers. Being able to see their handiwork makes her proud of her own effect on the world, no matter how insignificant it feels sometimes.11. Valued Attributes: Long-suffering, resourceful, calm, collected and unfailingly loyal. Very emotionally and mentally strong. 12. Dreams: Becoming independent (which she did!), becoming a botanist/botany illustrator and having her husband and kids help with it - plants were scarce in the skeleton homeland and life wasn’t valued like it is in the monster nation. She kept a lot of plants once she moved and got exposed to the wide variety available, especially cold-weather plants that didn’t normally grow in the area. Unfortunately, she died before she could get the schooling or write a book on what she learned. 13. Nightmares: Being saddled with more unwanted responsibilities, being responsible for someone’s bad decisions, going back to the skeleton homeland, losing her kids, getting in a bad marriage and ending up like her mother14. A Secret: She and Gertrude love doing karaoke together. She also kinda wishes one of her sons ended up a daughter instead - probably Cid. (Not that she wishes she never had Cid, but that if either Cid or Patrick was a girl, Cid’d do better)15. Best Day: It wasn’t her best day as in her most enjoyable, but it was the day she sat alone on a boat watching the skeleton homeland fade on the horizon, surrounded by species she’d never seen before with nothing but a duffel bag and the money she got from selling her engagement ring and some things that wouldn’t be missed from her (ex)fiancé’s house. She had never been so terrified. One of the skeleton merchants, one with a ram’s skull, offered her a blanket and told her all about the monster nation. She later fell asleep and, when she woke up, saw her new home glittering with torchlights and framed by the rising sun. And she was alone. But she was free. She was doing this.
16. Worst Day: Very possibly when she ran out of money when she moved to the monster nation. She had no idea what to do. She had a rough life growing up, but not, like, super rough. Not hood rat rough. She didn’t know what to do with no friends, no family (useless as they may be), no money and no way to get more. She couldn’t get a job right off the boat in the harbor town since it was filled with immigrants in similar positions, didn’t know or trust anyone enough to ask for charity and even she couldn’t stay calm. She was…20? Ish? Young to be completely on her own. Her only options seemed to be stealing or prostitution, neither of which she wanted to do. A local church took her in for the night (she spent the night prior hidden under a pier), gave her some food and provided transport and a job in a town farther inland. (The other worst day was when she was sick, only part conscious, and could sorta hear Wordsworth talking to her. He sounded so heartbroken and scared - he was crying but trying to be quiet to keep from upsetting the boys - and she was so angry that she couldn’t get up and be there for him and their boys. At this point, she kinda knew she wasn’t getting better and just wanted more time with them.) 17. Favourite Outfit: She has a practical but beautiful business casual blouse and slacks (which she totally didn’t steal from Wordsworth’s old teenage clothes. Not at all). The shirt was powder blue and the slacks are black.The shirt was cut/stitched so the waist was narrower than the shoulders and give her a recognizable female figure (to other species at least) so she doesn’t keep getting called sir. She also has black dressy boots that go midway up her tibia/calf. 18. Weapon of Choice: Harsh words followed by ice magic shards to the eyes or a crowbar to the back of the head19. Role in RPG: [tank/dps/healer/healtank/et cetra]: Buffing/Support20. First Thought in the Morning: “I’m home.”
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The Portrayal of "Female"
Throughout history, women have endured multiple standards for beauty as it seems as though they change within every second of every year. Many forms of media have contributed to these ideals of women being held up to these standards through beauty products being commercialized on television with women actresses having "perfect" skin, cartoons having unrealistic figures these women are drawn into, photoshop creating doubts and insecurities into countless audiences, social media influencers showing a facade as their mostly-younger audiences having multiple sources to look up to influencing them to look down on themselves. These are only just a few ideas circulating the decades of unrealistic standards women have to live up to, or else they aren't worthy of being seen as beautiful.
One of the most common social media platforms today include the app called "TikTok." This app was originally named "Musical.ly" where most posts were about lip-syncing to viral songs or 6-second "Vine" audios, but it has just become an intrusively bigger platform to post anything one desires. There are still multiple posts of lip-syncing involved, in which thousands of conventionally attractive users could mostly use it to boost their views and like counts. The quite-famously used slang phrase to describe these types of videos are described as "thirst-traps." Many users have posted dancing videos as well, in which the comments are filled with self-deprecation as other users come to compare themselves more to each "TikToker" they find as they scroll through billions of videos. The comments are incredibly heartbreaking to read as you continue to scroll through each comment, especially the comments with the most likes, which could range from hundreds of likes to thousands or even millions, knowing that those who didn't comment related to each one.
It's not only the comparison these young users do to themselves, but there are multiple trends that could put these viewers in harm's way. In the article about this, the authors, Reem Nasrallah, Daffny Cardoso, and Melinda Wan, write, "The disturbing hourglass trend showcases young girls demonstrating how to get abs by wearing plastic wrap around their stomachs, (The Classic)."
These trends are influencing thousands of people to shape themselves into a body type that isn't common for many gene pools. An incredibly saddening statistic included reads, "A study conducted by Bradley Hospital, Butler Hospital, and Brown Medical School found that one-third of inpatient adolescents are notably more ill than other patients because they struggle with poor body image. In the United States alone, the number of individuals that will be diagnosed with an eating disorder sums up to be 9% of the population. In addition, approximately 35 to 37 percent of adolescent girls take diet pills, laxatives and take many other harmful actions in order to lose weight, (The Classic)."
In the documentary, "Miss Representation," the sole idea that runs through this film is that women are constantly put on blast for their image. Every little detail on a woman's body has been put on display for everyone to pick apart and shape into this insane mold that is almost unreachable for someone who isn't constantly photoshopped or put onto diets to prepare them for the spotlight. There are countless methods to try to obtain these ideals that are incredibly expensive or unhealthy, and the sole audience being influenced are young women and children. A young high school student, Ariella, being interviewed expresses, "We see so much in the media that there's so much negativity towards women and their weight, and how they look, and it's just a representation of the pressure we feel to conform to men's ideals. There's this concept of the perfect woman who looks this certain way, and because women may not look that way, they're scrutinized, (00:07:49, Miss Representation)." Men play an intrusive role in all of this as well, as they have constantly been in power over women and their purpose on this earth being that they are here for their viewing or physical pleasure and treated as inhumanely as they possibly can because it has been this way and seems like it will always be this way.
There has been this constant portrayal of women where, not only are they supposed to look a certain way or act a certain way, but if they do conform to these sexist ideals, they will also be deemed as a "slut". A constant amount of double-standards that surround relationships or hook-ups can be described as men passing, but women are judged to the harshest extent. For the main ideal that women are sluts if they have sex with multiple men, but men are praised, this creates yet another conflict women have to face in their daily lives. In "READING 29: Gendered Sexuality of Adulthood", a plethora of college students have experienced a multitude of gender inequality throughout their college experience, "Women noted that it was 'easy to get a reputation' from 'hooking up with a bunch of different guys' or 'being wild and drinking too much'. Their experiences of being judged were often painful; one woman told us about being called a 'slut' two years after the incident because it was so humiliating, (pg. 289, The Meaning of Difference: American Constructions of Race and Ethnicity, Sex and Gender, Social Class, Sexuality, and Disability)." Women are ridiculed for their sex lives but are also being sexualized on a daily basis, making women stand on a never-ending fine line.
Work Cited:
Rosenblum, Karen Elaine, and Toni-Michelle Travis. The Meaning of Difference American Constructions of Race and Ethnicity, Sex and Gender, Social Class, Sexuality, and Disability. McGraw-Hill Education, 2016.
https://unm.kanopy.com/video/miss-representation-0
https://www.thhsclassic.com/2021/05/21/the-problem-of-tiktoks-unrealistic-beauty-standards/
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THEY CALLED HER MOUSEY
May 22, 1947
Directed by Mark Sloan
Music Composed by Jack Miller
Dramatized by Robert Sloan from the story “They Called Her Mousey” as it appeared in Reader’s Digest
Radio Reader’s Digest was a compilation of short stories for radio, much like the print edition was to books. It began on CBS in 1942 sponsored by Campbell Soup. In January 1946 it began being sponsored by Hallmark, the greeting card manufacturer. On June 6, 1946, Lucille Ball appeared in a story titled “Ariella”. In June 1948, the show officially became known as the Hallmark Playhouse, the predecessor to the Hallmark Hall of Fame that still airs today. Some of the many stars who appeared on Radio Reader’s Digest included: Orson Welles, Charles Boyer, Tallulah Bankhead, Ann Sothern, Joan Blondell, and Bob Hope, all of whom would later guest-star on Lucille Ball’s television shows.
CAST
Lucille Ball (Crystal Laverne aka Mousey) was about to premiere her 68th film Lured (1947). Easy To Wed (film #63) was in cinemas when this radio broadcast aired.
Richard Kollmar (Host) was a Broadway actor and producer. The 1954 “I Love Lucy” episode “Mr. and Mrs. TV Show” was inspired by radio’s “Breakfast with Dorothy and Dick” (1945-63), which featured Kollmar and his wife Dorothy Kilgallen.
Larry Haines (Eddie) was a radio star who found success on television in daytime dramas. First Lady Patricia Nixon called him her favorite soap star.
Howard Smith (Mr. Eganspan) was a heavy-set character actor who specialized in judges, police officers, corporate bigwigs and assorted choleric authoritarians. A frequent guest star on the sitcom “Hazel” (1961).
Tom Shirley (Announcer)
EPISODE
Before the story begins, Dick Kollmar calls out Lucille Ball to talk about her role. Lucille say that her first job on Broadway wasn’t in the theatre, but as a soda jerk on the corner. After a string of jobs including modeling, she finally made it into the theatre. [Lucille was probably referring to her brief time rehearsing for the road company of Rio Rita, a job she lost before the tour started.] Kollmar calls her the ‘Queen of Comedy’ and she says that there’s a little ‘Mousey’ in all of us.
Lucille talks about the value of Hallmark cards, and recalls something she read in Reader’s Digest, which she reduces to “Or as my pop used to say, ‘Get in there and pitch!” [Since her father died when she was four years old, it is unlikely that Lucille actually remembers her father using a baseball analogy.]
The story begins... A switchboard operator gets a call for Crystal Laverne aka Mousey.
MOUSEY (Brooklyn accent; to us): “I’m Mousey. At least that’s what the girls at the office call me: Mousey. A timid little rose who just sits at the typewriter all day and pounds out legal words for Norton, Shindwell, and Eganspan. I don’t understand what I write. I just draw up thousand dollar contracts, million dollar lawsuits, and billion dollar mergers, and all I get is twenty two fifty.”
Mousey takes the call, even though it is against the rules. It is her boyfriend Eddie. He wants to take her out to dinner. She’s afraid he’s spending too much money on her, but agrees to meet her that night for Chinese food.
Just as Mousey is trying to finish up her work, her typewriter breaks down. She’ll never make her date on time. Belle, her co-worker, tells her to tell Mr. Eganspan that she needs a new typewriter. Mousey clams up every time she sees him. Belle tells her to leave at six o’clock whether she’s done or not! Mousey reluctantly agrees - until Mr. Eganspan bursts in asking for her to finish up before she leaves.
MOUSEY (To us): “It took me a whole hour to do those five pages. And if I hadn’t used aother typewriter, I’d be there yet. As it was I didn’t get to Lin Chow’s till ten after seven. By that time the place was so crowded I couldn’t even find Eddie.”
The waiter tells Mousey that Eddie left ten minutes ago - and that he was mad.
MOUSEY (To us): “I walked around to the Empire Arena - and slid in the side door. I knew he’d be working there. I had to speak to him, so...”
Eddie says he’s disgusted that every time he makes a date with her it’s the same old story. Mousey says the broken typewriter hangs over her like a phobia. She vows she’ll get rid of it tomorrow. Turn over a new leaf. He says that he was gonna ask her to marry him. He even picked out the ring and everything.
Next day, with Belle’s encouragement, Mousey practices telling Mr. Eganspan about the typewriter, although her heart is not in it. When she sees that he is a bad mood, she changes her mind. The typewriter causes her to misses her lunch date with Eddie. Eddie comes to her office and demands he speak to him about the typewriter if she wants to keep him! Mr. Eganspan barks at her “Another time, Mousey!” and she retreats. Eddie leaves the office - and her life.
End of Act One
Dick Kollmar does a commercial for Hallmark’s Mr. Bluebird Cards, based on song "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah" from the 1946 live action / animated Disney film Song of the South. In the film, Mr. Bluebird was voiced by Clarence Nash, best known as the voice of Donald Duck. Nash also provided the voice of Donald Duck for Lucille Ball’s 1938 film Joy of Living.
Act Two
MOUSEY (To us): “By the time I got downstairs, Eddie was gone. I called up his hotel room, but there wasn’t any answer, so I went over to the arena to find out if any of the boys knew where he was. They were all pretty busy moving the circus in to town.”
They tell her he isn’t there, but he might be at the luncheonette down the street. Mousey looks there, but he isn’t there. She decides to sit at the counter and wait for him. The waiter wants her to order something or leave. She orders some coffee and macaroons and decides to wait.
They both hear a lion’s roar and they realize that a lion’s gotten loose from the circus. The lion comes right up to Mousey and eats the macaroon off her plate! She calls him Fido and scratches him behind the ear. His trainer finally shows up. The lion’s name is Caesar. The trainer says he’s a killer! Mousey faints.
After coming to, the press surrounds Mousey to ask her about braving the lion in the luncheonette. She does her best to answer the onslaught of questions but is late for work. She rushes back to the office. Mr. Eganspan says she smells like she’s been to the circus. She starts typing...but....
MOUSEY (To us): “Ya know, I think I’d be at that darned old typewriter yet if it hadn’t been for Caesar. The keys kept jammin’ just as they always had and Belle kept egging me on to speak to Mr. Eganspan, but when I got to his office that old mousey feelin’ came right back to me. Only this time I noticed a bit of tawny fur that Caesar’ had left on my knee, and right away my blood began to boil. I don’t know if it was the lion in me or the mouse, but before I knew it I had thrown open Mr. Eganspan’s door and was scowlin’ at him just as hard as he was scowlin’ me!”
She draws the line and tells him she will do no more work until he replaces her typewriter. She tells him not to call her Mousey. It’s not her name! Mr. Eganspan is totally taken aback. He backs down and meekly tells her he’s tired and discouraged. She gives him advice not to be afraid.
Later, Eddie telephones and starts asking her questions about what has happened. She thinks he’s talking about her showdown with Mr. Eganspan, but he has heard about her encounter with the lion! She tells Eddie that the lion was nothing compared to Mr. Eganspan. He’s even bought her a new typewriter!
EDDIE: “How did you get a new typewriter out of old Eganspan?”
MOUSEY: “I just scratched him behind the ear!”
End of Episode
Dick Kollmar reminds viewers that next week’s show will feature Claude Raines.
Lucille Ball appeared courtesy of MGM, producers of High Barbaree starring Van Johnson and June Allyson.
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