#let me marry her...... let me romance the zora girl like i got to in aoc...

[snail-studios]

Zora princess x zelda in eow pleaspleasepleasepleeeeaaaaseeeeeeweee

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {21}*

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing, ANGST, Plot, Fluff, Mildly NSFW, Violence, Blood, Death, Verbal mention of Rape, Potentially Triggering Discussion

Words: 6.2k

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Uriah-

You pushed off of him to an upright position, not sure you’d heard him right. “Say what!?”

 Chris sat up as well and leaned on the headboard.

 “Yeah. Abel, the detective, found that the video was doctored. It was spliced together using so many different audio clips dating back to when Knives Out was announced. She had someone doctor it to make it seem like it was me, or recent and current me.”

 You were ready to claw her eyes out. “That bitch!”

 Chris sighed. “That’s not it,” he began. He reached for your hand and brought you closer. You swung your leg over his lap and sat on his thighs, giving him your undivided attention.

 “Remember the picture of her in the sweater?”

 Clenching your jaw, you nodded. “The one from your room?”

 He nodded. “You’re right—it was from my room.”

 You gaped at him, ready to lunge at him, but you stopped yourself.

 “She snuck in, stripped down, and posted it. Abel was able to get security footage from the hotel. She bribed one of the housekeeping staff. They let her in, and it was at the same time I was on call for press. The timestamp shows it. I’m thinking she knew it would set you off and create problems between us.”

 You couldn’t believe what he was saying. This was insane. Why would someone go to these lengths?

 “Wow.” You rubbed your forehead, trying to wrap your head around everything. Not only were you still grappling with everything that happened since the accident, including things with Christiano, but the babies and Chris’s downward spiral, but now this. “Oh my god.”

 “The investigator uncovered a video from the hotel—and so much more.” Chris released a heavy breath then took your hand. “It all points to her, Riah.”

 His fingers traced imaginary patterns on my hand and along the length of my fingers.

 “And the text messages?” You couldn’t help yourself. Chris looked up from your hand and to your waiting eyes. The look on his face was an inquisitive one. “The ones between you and her about us,” you finished.

 There was no look of shock; he just looked resolved, as if he somehow knew that you knew.

 “How do you know about that?”

 “I did something crazy,” you began before pausing to find the right way to explain.

 It only took a few moments to forego any strategic plan and lay it out. So that is what you did. You explained your mission impossible operation with Kizzy and Zora a few weeks ago at Chris’s press junket. You explained being in the elevator to witness Ana’s blatant flirting. You explained, taking her purse and going through her phone to find out how devious she was. By the time you finished, the silence in the room was deafening. Chris hadn’t moved or spoken since you began. The look on his face was so masked and neutral that you couldn’t tell if he was on the brink of an angry outburst or a disappointed one.

 Suddenly Chris snorted loudly then laughed obnoxiously, clapping his free hand across his chest. The laugh went on so long to the same caliber that you couldn’t help but join in. So the two of you sat there laughing together for several long minutes. Once both of you were laughed out, you just stared at each other.

 “I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Chris started first, continuing to rub your hand. “I knew who I married.”

 He sighed and shook his head. That was when you saw the remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about it all, but I didn’t want to hurt you or have you doubt me.”

 Chris clenched his jaw then crinkled his brow. “In hindsight, I know it looked really suspicious. There are so many things I see now that I didn’t then. I shouldn’t have even had those text exchanges. It’s not her place to know anything small or not about our marriage. Jesus.” Chris took his hand away then raked it through his hair before locking his hands behind his neck—one of his frustrated ticks. His eyes were dropped to your thighs, and that’s where they remained.

 “I’m sorry, Riah.”

 His voice sounded clouded, and that was the only indication you needed to know his emotions were getting the better of him.

 “I’ve been so stupid. So stupid,” he choked out.

 “Baby.” You slid closer to him, grabbing his elbows to pull them down to rest on top of your thighs. “Look at me.”

 You raised his chin so he was looking into your eyes. His tears stained his cheeks and welled his eyes. You’d wanted him to see the error of his ways so many times. You’d wished he could see it your way and understand, and now that he did, you should have felt vindicated, but you didn’t. There really were no winners when the family feuds.

 Dropping your face into the crook of his neck, you inhaled his scent.

 “I’m sorry, dragonfly,” Chris whispered, wrapping his arms around you holding you close. “So sorry.”

 “Baby—look at me.”

 He pulled back enough for you to peer into his eyes. As you caressed his cheek, you spoke.

 “It’s okay. I—you--,” you sighed, then traced your thumb across his bottom lip. “I understand. There has been so much—pain, so much sorries and--.” Again you stopped for a few seconds.

 “No more,” you finished.

 Chris slowly nodded his head, grasping your meaning. He then kissed your thumb and nuzzled his bearded jaw into your palm. Though you wanted to move on, there was one more burning question, one more thing you had to know. Nibbling your bottom lip, you found your courage.

 “Were—were you tempted?”

 You couldn't look at him, so you kept your head down.

 “What? Tempted? To do what?”

 Meeting his eyes, you swallowed, then continued.

 “Cheat,” you whispered.

 Chris sat up straight, and he cupped your face within his large hands. His eyebrows were crooked with the intense, take me serious look he always got when he was about to say something important.

 “Look at me. Never.”

 You tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you.

 “Listen and hear me, Uriah, never, ever. I would never. I told you I married you for a reason. I had a plan. Forever and a day, Uriah. You promised me forever and a day, and I won’t stand for anything less. I’m collecting all of it. Forever and a day.”

Fighting the tears, you scoffed. “You were a jackass. When I tell you a woman wants you, don’t doubt me.”

 Chris smiled and nodded. “I was. Never again. We don’t be here again. I’m going to be Pence from now on. You must be present at all times, or I’m not alone with any women.”

 You busted out laughing, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the heaviness of the last few weeks. It felt almost normal, like the two of you were on your way. Chris kissed you once, then twice before resting his forehead to yours.

 “We have to nail her ass to the wall,” you declared, staring into his eyes.

 “Oh, definitely. What did you have in mind, Mrs. Evans?”

 “You didn’t file the papers?”

 Chris scoffed, then rolled his eyes.

 “I don’t know who you think I am, but you’re gonna have to try harder than divorce papers to get rid of me, Dragonfly.”

 Again you smiled. “So whatever I want, you won’t be the voice of sympathy?”

 “Whatever you want, kitten,” Chris replied, kissing the tip of your nose, making your belly flutter in the process.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m so happy that you’re okay, sweetheart,” your mother said as she pulled you into a group hug with your father.

 “I’ll be okay, mom.”

 Your father cupped your cheek, taking the time to inspect your face. You knew he wasn’t looking for physical harm. He was realizing how close he’d come to losing you, how he’d failed you. You could tell. When Chris had called them to update them, they instantly wanted to hear your voice. When they did, they broke, and that breaking turned to shattered when everything came out.

 You’d spent two hours on the phone with them, listening to them apologize and blame themselves for putting so much trust in Christiano. They felt horrible for never suspecting that he would stoop so low. They begged you not to hate them, begged you to forgive them. It was easy to promise them you weren't angry because you understood. You didn’t blame them or hold a grudge for them not doing more. They had no idea who Christiano really was—you didn’t either. The only one who ever saw him for who he was, was Chris.

 “I’m so sorry, Uriah. As your father, I should have done more to keep you away from him.”

 “Daddy, don’t. There is nothing you could have done. You did the best with what the information you had—you all did,” you assured, looking around at the faces of everyone you loved, both your family and Chris’s.

 Lisa approached and pulled you into another hug. You could feel her tears.

 “I’m okay, I promise.”

 “I am so happy that you are.” Her hand dropped to your bump, and she smiled. “That you all are.”

 Just like that, the waterworks started again, and everyone huddled around you, everyone but Chris, who was standing back most likely watching with a cheesy smile on his face. When they released you, your guess was correct. Chris smiled, then winked at you.

 “So how are we getting those sons of bitches?”

 All eyes snapped to Zora, who looked as if she was ready to rip out a heart and eat it.

 “Down girl—Chris has already laid the groundwork,” you said.

 “And it was easy, just play into that colossal ego of his,” Chris finished, kissing my temple.

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Chris-

MSG Love Of My Life: Remember, don’t let him goad you. He’s going to try.

 He scoffed; it was an understatement.

 MSG: I’m good. He can’t get me to because I have what he doesn’t, and I know something he doesn’t.

MSG Love Of My Life: You do have me. Forever and a day, my love. <Kiss emoji, heart emoji>

MSG: You should have let me go with you. I don’t like you’re alone.

MSG Love Of My Life: I’m not alone. I have my parents, Kizzy, Zora, your sisters, your mom, our lawyers. I am far from alone.

MSG: You know what I mean.

MSG Love Of My Life: I don’t think I could relive it all with you next to me anyway. It’s better this way. I’ll see you soon. Remember what I said. <Kiss>

 He sighed and tried to push aside the guilt he felt. He wanted to be with you, holding your hand. You’d gone through too much alone, and all he wanted to do now was protect you.

 MSG Scott: Need me to come up?

MSG: Nah, I can handle this.

MSG Scott: Okay.

 He slipped his phone back into his pocket and stared out over the canyons and LA down below. It was a beautiful sight, one he liked a lot but not better than the changing leaves of Autumn in Massachusetts. He would never choose LA over them. It was, however, a good change of pace, but it staled quickly. Standing here, it was easy to forget the chaos of the last few months. Easy to forget that merely days ago, he’d thought his life was over, and it would never be the same.

 “I can’t believe you suggested this. What, you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s cool; I don’t mind helping you with that.”

 The sound of his voice was enough to make him want to turn around swinging, then drag him to the edge and kick him off Sparta style. He didn’t deserve to live, not after what he’d done to you. He clenched his jaw and tightened his fist, and slowly released a breath. Once he was sure he had some sort of control over his reflexes, he turned. Christiano looked as smug as ever. He’d never wanted to take a life, but right now, right here, he thought of at least ten ways in under one minute. They all involved pain.

 “So, what air is there to clear?”

 He clenched his jaw before he spoke.

 “She’s still my wife.”

 “Ah, ah, ah, according to those divorce papers she sent over, even that is limited time. Face it man; you’ve lost. I’ve won. I always win. I always get what I want, no matter what. It’s hilarious to me that you thought swooping into her life like that and marrying her on a whim would have changed things. Uriah has always been mine. She was always meant to be mine.”

 His hatred for the man in front of him was already at toxic levels. He had no idea how it was possible for it to increase. Staring at him and hearing the venom he just spewed did the trick.

 “So, this is just a game to you? This is her life—this is our life. All of this is for what?”

 “To win what’s rightfully mine. I’m Christiano White. I get what I want when I want it, and that includes women. No one takes what’s mine. No one, and she’s mine!”

 The smugness on his face was the most upsetting thing. He didn’t care hearing him profess fake ownership. He didn’t even care that Christiano thought he had so much privilege that he would get away with his insane plane. Even the thought that him being Christiano White meant jack shit. What really got to him was the fact he’d done this to prove some stupid, sick point. He’d played with his life, your life, and the life of his children for the sake of winning. He stepped to Christiano, ready to push his ass off the cliff, but before he touched him, the thought of you and those innocent babies flashed into his mind. There was no way he’d do this to you guys, he thought.

 Gathering some calm, he stepped back. Christiano chuckled.

 “Thay’s right. Recognize when you’ve lost, and oh, have you lost. Let me tell you how bad you’ve lost. She was in my bed, letting me touch her, kiss her, please her. She shouted my name, over and over. Not yours.”

 He scoffed. “You sure? My name’s Chris. Did she say, Christiano?”

 The smirk on Christiano’s face slipped, and rage replaced it. It was a small piece of satisfaction, but it was worth it, especially since he knew for a fact you’d called his name—Chris and not the latter. Though your brain didn’t remember him, your subconscious did, your heart did, your soul did. There was no room for anyone else. He nearly laughed in Christiano’s face because it had taken him this long to grasp that fully. There had only ever been you and him.

 “You only have yourself to blame. Who would dare cheat on Uriah? Who would think to replace a diamond with a pebble? You’re an idiot,” Christiano jabbed before he laughed out. “Don’t worry, once we’re married, things will be better for her.”

 “How do you plan on getting married if we’re still legally married?”

 For the second time, the smile Christiano wore slipped. He looked around as if he expected someone to come out.

 “For now,” Christiano scoffed, rolling his eyes.

 He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you walking up behind Christiano. Catching on, he spun around.

 “Babe, what’re—what’re you doing here? I thought we were meeting tonight.”

 Christiano approached you with his arms out, but you walked past him to his waiting arms instead. Once he wrapped his arm around your waist, you kissed his lips, then turned to Christiano, who looked confused, angry, and a few other emotions he most likely hadn’t put together yet.

 “For always,” you said.

 “What the fuck!”

 “Surprise,” he said, slipping his hand down to your hip. Christiano’s eyes dropped to his hand before he clenched his jaw. The annoyance from minutes ago was worth it.

 “What was the plan, Christiano? It’s bigamy to be married to two people at once. Our marriage would have been null in void. What was the goal!?”

 Christiano took a step to you, making him grip your hip tighter, ready to get in between you.

 “I’m better than him. I’m richer, I look better, and I’m better in bed. Admit it, Riah. I don’t lose to men like him. I wasn’t done with you,” Christiano confessed with bitterness in his voice.

 You pulled from him, taking a step to Christiano. “So you decided to turn me into a pawn! You decided to lie to me, manipulate me and—rape me?!”

 “Shut up, I didn’t--,” he began before you cut him off.

 “Yes, you did! I was not of sound mind. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t even know who I was. You knew. You fucking knew, and you used that and stole from me. Admit it!”

 Sensing things were about to go south, he stepped between the two of you, pulling back to a safe distance.

 “That’s right, fuck it! Yes, I did all of that. I’ll admit it. Yes, I manipulated you to get what I wanted. I couldn’t lose to this dick. I couldn’t let you go. I wouldn’t. I did what was necessary. I took what was mine, and I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.”

 That was all he could stomach before he turned and decked him with all the force he possessed. Christiano dropped to the dirt and writhed for a few moments before he slowly stood laughing like a lunatic with the blood dripping from his nose.

 “You’re insane. You tried to kill my children because I ended things and found better?”

 “There is no better than me!”

 He spread his arms out, not caring where the blood that spewed from him went. “Uriah, you know you love me. You loved the feel of a real man between your legs. Just tell him.”

 Glancing at you, he realized you were crying now.

 “I can’t believe you’d do this to me. I can’t believe you’d hurt me this way.”

 He wrapped his arms around you, hoping to comfort you in some way. Looking back at Christiano, he was in time to see him charging toward him. He quickly moved you out of the way and threw a punch that connected with Christiano’s jaw. Instead of going down, Christiano lunged at him, gripping him around his waist, trying to bring him down to the ground. He almost laughed. Sending his knee into his gut, he spun and put Christiano in a chokehold keeping him there.

 It was then a group of police officers came running toward them.

 “Look at that. You lost, not just once, but twice and now—a third.”

 He wanted to snap his neck, and thinking of everything he’d put them through, he almost did. Two officers ran up to him, both of them taking Christiano by his arms.

 “We’ve got it from here.”

 Reluctantly he let Christiano go and allowed the law to take the wheel. Going to you, he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears.

 “I’m here.”

 You hugged him, and he just held you. There was no need for words.

  -That Night-

“I love you.”

 Those words were like music to his ears. There was a time he didn’t think he’d ever hear them again. Gently pulling your head back, he peered into your eyes while caressing your cheek. He loved seeing you like this with your hair free, hovered over him, with the moon as your backdrop.

 “I love you more,” he whispered.

 “Forever and a day?”

 He smiled, remembering your promises, and pressed his forehead to yours. “Forever and a day, dragonfly.”

 You kissed him softly, taking the time to tease his lips, nibbling his bottom one before burying your face in the crook of his neck as you rocked against him, sending him higher and higher until he felt as if his soul left his body.

 “Uriah!”

 It felt like he was no longer in his body but instead hovering overhead like a fly watching your bodies entangled together. There was no other sight he loved as much. You rolled off of him and found your place beside him, resting your head on his chest, right over his heart. You both sighed.

 “After this is done, let’s go back to Massachusetts full time,” you quietly said after a few minutes.

 “What?” he turned to look at you, needing to see if you meant it.

 “Do you mean that?”

 “Yeah. I never wanted to raise kids in LA, and you know I love Massachusetts. Let’s have these babies in the house you built for us,” you added.

 He couldn’t believe his ears. It wasn’t that you’d ever expressed not wanting to live in Massachusetts full time; it was that he knew how much of your career was still in LA. With him, he was spending less and less time here, but you, it seemed it was more and more.

 “How is that going to work with your career?”

 You rolled slightly onto your side, then trailed your hand across his chest down his stomach to rest nonchalantly atop his manhood. Groaning, he wrapped one of his arms under his head.

 “I’m taking a few years off.”

 The shock had his junk jumping in your hand, making a wide smile spread across your face. “Wow, talk about talent,” you teased.

 He rolled you onto your back and climbed on top of you, nestling himself between your spread thighs.

 “Don’t play with me, Mrs. Evans.”

 You smiled widely as you fondled him with one hand. Not being strong enough to have this conversation while you did that, he grabbed your hand and pressed it over your head, gripping you at your wrist.

 “No fair,” you pouted.

 “Say that again.”

 You smiled, clearly loving that fact he was hanging by a flimsy piece of thread.

 “I said I’m taking a few years off.”

 He couldn’t stop his grin. “Really?”

 “Yeah. What do you think? Would you want that?”

 “You’re kidding. Of course, yes! It would be just the two of us day in, day out. No movie sets, no studio time, no photoshoots.”

 “Eh-em, excuse you. You mean just the five of us,” you corrected.

 It didn’t take him long to get it. You, him, babies, and Dodger.

 “I love you, Mrs. Evans.”

 “I love you, Mr. Evans.”

 You kissed him once, then twice before your hands roamed down his back to grip his ass, making him moan and chuckle at the same time. He’d missed this and you.

 “Hang on, baby; I gotta--,” he began.

 “Ah, that after nut pee calls, huh. Fine. Go ahead. I'll just be here, pregnant and horny.”

 He snorted and rolled off of you before hurrying to the bathroom.

 “Oh, I’m coming back, cause—that sounds like a very pressing situation that needs my undivided attention.”

 You giggled as he dipped into the bathroom. He hurried to the toilet and tried his best to aim properly but an erection and peeing straight made for a tricky situation. Once he’d gotten the hang of it and the common sense to curve his body a little, he was good and groaned long and loud as he relieved himself. The silence in the bathroom gave him the time to fully react to the prospect of moving back to Massachusetts full time for the next few years. He couldn’t wait. Life was about to change for the better.

 Once finished, he flushed and washed his hands before stepping back into the room. He expected you to be lying on the bed, waiting for him, but the bed was empty. Thinking you might have found your way to the kitchen for a snack, he pulled his pajama pants off the floor and pulled them on before he walked out of the bedroom. He’d recently discovered that after sex, you craved something from the fridge. He walked down the hall leading to the staircase, but before he got there, a chill ran down his spine. It was this chill and almost like a psychic feeling that had him stop.

 When he turned, there you stood in your pale pink kimono robe with Christiano behind you. His hand was around your neck, clasping it.

“What the--.” He made a move toward them, but Christiano pulled out a gun and pointed it to your stomach.

 “I wouldn’t,” he began before he cocked the weapon. “Or I will pull this trigger, and there goes Evan Jr.”

 Terror as he’d never felt before gripped his heart. “You wouldn’t risk her life.”

 Christiano shoved the barrel of the gun more forcefully into your stomach, making you whimper loudly.

 “Wouldn’t I? what’s the point of keeping her safe now? For her to end up with you? I think the fuck not!” Again he shoved the gun into you.

 “Okay, hey, hey, stop. Don’t do this. Please.”

 “Please?” Christiano snorted and pulled you more firmly against him. “Are you begging me finally? You’ve always been underneath me. I couldn’t understand why she would choose you over me. I’m better in every category.”

 He nodded, with his hands raised.

 “You’re right. You’re the better man, the better choice,” he agreed, deciding to play along and say whatever he wanted if it meant Uriah had a chance of getting away from him. He quickly tried to formulate a plan while he used his words to buy himself as much time as possible.

 “I know! So why him, Uriah!?”

 You remained quiet, tears streaming down your cheeks.

 “Answer me! You better answer me with the truth, or I swear I’ll pull this trigger.”

 “Answer hi, Dragonfly. It’s okay. Forever and a day.”

 You scrunched your face and watched fresh heartbreak wash over you. “I—I fell in love with him, Tino. My soul recognized his as my home. It could only ever be him,” you replied. He signaled to you using his eyes and slight movements of his head, and he hoped you understood them.

 He watched Christiano squeeze your neck tighter and press the gun more persistently into you, and he said a silent prayer.

 “Fine,” Christiano began. He saw the moment when it all changed for him, and his threats no longer were empty words. “If I can’t have you. No one can.”

 “Now, Riah!”

 You threw your head back, colliding yours with his in a vicious headbutt that sent Christiano staggering backward a few steps and you stumbling before falling to the floor. In the chaos, Christiano dropped the gun allowing him to leap forward for the gun. In seconds Christiano was on him, fighting him for it. He tried to pull it from his clutches while turning it away from him or Uriah, but there was no fury like a man who’d lost everything.

 Christiano managed to wrangle the gun from his grasp and pointed it to Uriah. In the blink of an eye, he knew what had to be done—the only thing he could do. Locking eyes with you, he said the only thing that mattered.

 “I love you.”

 He then dove for Christiano tracking him into the banister railing with enough force that broke it, sending both of them over the edge and down two and a half stories to the hard marble floor beneath. He could hear your piercing scream right before they collided with the floor, but once they made impact, the gun went off, and again Uriah screamed.

 “Chris!”

~~~~~~~~~

-Uriah-

It all had happened in such a way that it was in slow motion but sped up. You couldn’t register anything until it was all said and done. You scurried to the banister and looked down. Neither of them moved, and your heart stopped. Gasping, you tried to remind your brain to send the signal for you to breathe. After a few seconds, you coughed while trying to hurry down the stairs. The tears in your eyes made it difficult to see what was in front of you, so you stumbled down the stairs. If it weren’t for your gripping the railing as you descended, you were sure you would have tumbled.

 Once down to them, you dropped to your knees beside them and pulled at Chris’s body. He wasn’t moving.

 “Oh god, Chris!”

 He didn’t respond, and his body felt like dead weight. Your tears flowed more freely as you managed to roll him off. Once you had, you were able to see that it was Christiano who was shot and not Chris. Relief filled you, and you shook him more forcefully.

 “Chris! Wake up, please. Please don’t leave me. Chris!”

 Suddenly he erupted into a fit of choughs before they died down.

 “Why are you always shouting at me, woman!?”

 You gasped again. “Oh my god! You scared the shit out of me.”

 “I’m okay. I think,” he informed while trying to sit up. He then began examining you.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Yes.”

 He then gripped his head as he groaned out, but it wasn’t long before he was moving toward you to pull you into his arms, not caring that he was covered in blood.

 “Is he—is he dead?”

 Chris leaned back to check Christiano’s pulse, then lowered his head. “Very dead.”

 You clasped your hands over your mouth. “Oh my god. He—he tried--.”

 Chris pulled you into him and hugged you tightly. “Come here. It’s okay.”

 Somehow he managed to slide both of you from the body on the floor toward the wall. He held you tightly, then spoke.

 “I don’t think I’ll call you crazy again after this.”

 It was probably inappropriate, but you snorted then laughed, a laugh he joined in on. As suddenly as the laughter began, it ended.  

 “They’re crazy.”

 “Bat shit,” Chris replied.

 Any humor to be found in the situation was gone, and it turned into you crying in his shoulder, going through all the emotions from the entire night. There had been so much pain, so much destruction. You’d come close to losing everything more than once, and the culprit was lying dead on the floor before you. It was overwhelming, but somehow, you felt steeled to the fact that you’d just watched someone die.

 You glanced over to Chris at the same moment he looked at you. He wiped the tears from your cheeks then spoke.

 “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He then lowered his lips to your forehead and held you close.

 Ten minutes later, the sirens of the police, ambulance, and fire trucks could be heard as they surrounded your property. The officers instantly took yours and Chris’s statements and any evidence lying around to prove what the two of you were professing, including the security footage. The EMS workers quickly covered Christiano’s body with a sheet as they rolled him into a body bag then pushed the gurney out of the house. You barely registered anything. Chris did most of the talking, not leaving one thing out. When they asked you about the events of the night, you stuttered and quickly became frazzled as everything finally caught up to you. That was when the detective Chris hired suggested meeting at the police station to continue, which would allow him to reveal his findings in his investigation.

After a quick change, you were sitting in the passenger side of Chris’s car as he drove you to the precinct. Your mind raced a mile a minute, but your lips remained zipped. The feel of Chris’s hand on your thigh was your tangible evidence that this was reality and not some soap opera plot. When you arrived at the precinct, the detective in charge of the case questioned you from the very beginning to the night's events. You did your best to remain calm and emotionless and were surprised that you didn’t feel the shame you’d felt about the entire situation prior to this night.

When the detective revealed new information divulged to him, from the detective Chris hired, about Christiano and what he’d truly been up to and how deep his plans really went, you could hardly stomach it. He’d secured another property in Russia and planned to bring you there. The way the information was revealed, it seemed like he planned on keeping you captive there. Hearing that, you almost passed out. Chris, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to kill Christiano again.

 The questioning took a full hour, and at the end of it, you were exhausted and ready to put this entire thing behind you after dealing with Ana. With Chris’s arm around your waist, you walked out of the detective’s office onto the precinct's open floor. A loud scream brought your attention to several officers pulling Ana through with her hands cuffed behind her back.

 “I demand you let me go. Do you know who I am!? I swear to god, I will have your badge, and you’ll never be a fucking cop again!”

 “Wow, the mouth on her,” one of the officers teased.

 “To think we found her hot in that Bond movie,” another piped up.

 “Fuck you!”

 You and Chris approached, curious as to what was going on. You hadn’t expected to see her until tomorrow when you and Chris executed the second part of your plan of confronting her while recording it to release it to the world, showing everyone who and what she really was. It would have been a one-two hit that she wouldn’t recover from. Her career would have been over.

 “It’s been a big night,” the detective who’d just interviewed you said, standing beside you.

 “I don’t understand. What’s going on? Why’s she here?”

 “Your detective gave us plenty of information. By the way, impressive man, you should think about keeping him on your payroll. Anyway, we followed his leads, and it led right to her and her assistant, specifically her assistant’s car. This one took her assistant’s car and was the one behind the wheel when she ran into you. The traffic cams show it was an intentional hit.”

 You saw red.

 “What!”

 “She tried to kill you,” Abel, the private detective, added, coming up beside Chris.

 “What’s more, there were messages between her and Christiano White.”

 Both yours and Chris’s heads spun to him to the police detective this time to find him nodding with a look on his face that said even he hadn’t encountered anything this bizarre before.

 “They concocted this whole scheme together, beginning with the pictures of her in that eat shit sweater. This was set up with them. there is even evidence Christiano was poisoning you, Mrs. Evans.”

 “Jesus,” Chris hissed.

 You remained utterly silent and still letting Abel’s words fully process. It was a lot of information, but it was also vindication that you were in no shape or form crazy.

 “Wh—what does all this mean?”

 “It means she’s going to face a judge on a slew of charges that are quite serious. I can assure you both; there is no easy way of her getting out of any of this. No amount of money or connections will fix it. Her career is over,” the detective finished.

 You both were speechless, and looking at Chris, he was too. You and Chris were led to somewhere you could sit for a few minutes to receive the paperwork for the night’s incident and the new information. While sitting, you used the time to catch your breath and wrap your head around everything. Neither of you could believe all you’d gone through. The more you thought about it, the more your confusion increased. One burning questioned remained. Why?

 About ten minutes later, you and Chris were led toward the exit, but you caught sight of Ana to your right. You would have walked on, but the way she glared at you had you changing your mind in seconds. You let go of Chris’s hand and walked over to her.

 “I have to know. Why? What was the point!?”

 Ana bolted to her feet as if she planned to do something, but the officer behind her grabbed her arm, holding her to ensure she didn’t try anything. You weren’t worried.

“You don’t deserve anything you have. The fame, the popularity, and opportunities you don’t deserve any of it, especially Chris. He was supposed to be mine. That baby was supposed to be mine!”

 You could hear the poison in her voice and see the sheer hatred for you shining brightly in her eyes. She truly meant this though she didn’t know one thing about you.

 “You’re crazy as fuck. I hope it was worth it.” You reached back for Chris’s hand, knowing he was behind you. Lacing your fingers with his, you showed her all that her efforts had produced, then turned and began walking away.

 “You low-grade black bitch!

In your head, you heard blaring sirens. The sound became so loud in a matter of seconds it had somewhat of a mind-altering effect. Chris released your hand as if he knew what was going to happen. You turned back to her and saw red.

 “Oh I’ll show you how low grade this black bitch is!”

 You ran to her, then tackled her to the floor. Once on top of her, you swung punch after punch, each slamming into her face. You didn’t care where they landed, didn’t care how hard you were hitting her either. There was a lesson she needed to learn, and the only way to learn it was getting her ass beat the right way—the black way. You felt hands trying to pull you off of her, but you were not having it. You held on to her hair, so when they tried to move you, they really helped you bald the bitch.

 “See, I never learned to share when I was young! I’m—an—only—child!” With each enunciated word, you emphasized it with a punch. Ana’s screams were loud, but they weren’t louder than those alarms still sounding off in your head. Though she tried to fight back, it was futile, though.

 “Learn this bitch! Don’t,” you dropped a punch to her nose. “Touch,” you slapped her with your open hand. “What,” you slapped her again, this time with the back of your hand. “is mine!”

 From then, no one else tried to pull you off of her. You suspected it was Chris warning them. You managed to get off a few more punches when you were finally pulled off.

 “Let me go!”

 “Okay, calm down, Adonis Creed, that’s enough,” Chris shouted, trying to break through to you. You still struggled trying to get back to her, but Chris refused to let you go until you calmed down. You looked at Ana on the floor. She was barely moving, and her face was a bloody mess with several patches of her dark hair sprinkled around her. Satisfaction filled you. Raising your hand, you assured Chris you were good. Slowly he let you go, and you stooped down to her.

 “Look at me.”

 You waited for her writhing to stop and for her bloody, swollen eyes to land on you.

 “Remember my name for the rest of your pathetic life. Remember that I’m that bitch!”

 You grabbed her hair and held her head. “Try this shit again; you gonna lose your life.”

 With that, you punched her one more time, knocking her clear out. Everyone around the precinct shouted out a collective “ooh.” You stood and walked away as they all cleared your path, most likely thinking you were crazy. Chris came beside you, took your hand, and walked back to the car with you. Once inside, you both sat there, silently processing everything. Five minutes passed in silence until you spoke.

 “She did all this over dick, Chris. Dick,” you said in disbelief as you shook your head.

 “I mean—my dick is A1.”

 Your head spun to him. “Christopher!”

 He laughed out loud while holding his hands up in defeat.

 “Hey, don’t beat my ass too, I don’t want none,” Chris joked, making you laugh a little.

 “Wow, remind me not to piss you off again. I don’t want any of what she got.”

 You fake lunged at him with your still bloodied fists. “Don’t start none, won’t be none.”

 Both of you erupted with laughter before you embraced, relishing in the feeling of togetherness and your love. It was finally over; you thought as Chris pressed a soft kiss to your neck.

 “Let’s get the fuck out of this town,” Chris suggested. You snorted and nodded.

 “Let’s go home.”

 Knowing where you meant, Chris smiled and kissed you once, then twice.

 “Let’s,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @southerngracela @cyntgefel01 @vannahvannahhh @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @theblulife @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @kikimiyazaki @toniilaney @areubeingserved @chaos-crusader @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @bellaamor88 @mack-jay @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @nova3312 @hello-therree @valkyriesnymph @squeackygee @niyashell @allmonstersxarehuman @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @taylorveebee​ @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @thelittlemoistcarrot @sarcastic-sunshines @a-dizzle777 @taylorveebee @jesseswartzwelder @90sinspiredgirl @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @choices97  @jd-now-jq @actorinfluence @chrisgalore @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @motivation-idontknowher @lo-cheu  @builtalongthewaysi @momobaby227@drsunshine97 @cleothegoldfish

@thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @queenbetter @ilovehatembj @briellableu @zaddysqueen7 @melaninhawtie @simplyyamberr  @ashanti-notthesinger @chezdricks @euh-say-what-now @afraiddreamingandloving @ajspencer1892 @wakanda-inspired @chillavesss @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna @hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @songtoyou @designerwriterchic @firedolphin04 @academic-glowup @periodtcevans @nova3312 @naturalthrone22 @squeackygeecapslut2014 @queen-audsalena

@unknownmystery22 @thatcrazymarvelfan @mizcaptainwidow @angrybirdcr @cherrystainedlipsbaby @marvelfansworld @fanfictionaffair @kemkem101 @blowmymbackout @almostpurelysmut @blackgurlkillinit @simply-heaven @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @renfrewscorner @choices97 @phreshouttherunwaaayy @heladoom @alyxkbrl @evemej @queensevansackles @rosey1981 @laketaj24 @munteanhore @minton131 @trillistb @night-of-the-living-shred @chrisevansfanfic @scoop93535 @miss-jackson500 @purplehairgawdess @ollieveracity @maddeningmayhem @what-is-your-plan-today @tantricevans @evermcfearless @richonne4life @dumbchick @toni9 @briellableu @amennariee @rynabarnesrogers-reading  @chrissbabybunny @brwnsugababe @queenshikongo3 @sadishdelray @what-is-your-plan-today @islanddgal @reignandrain @liquorlaughslove @thefuckingluxury @surmya1907 @maeleeme @queenoftheworldisdead @coolbakeryprunetoad @naturalthrone22 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @starlite-starbrite @offrostandstarlight @zeedaye @partypoison00 @thejeneralvicinity  @littlepreciousangel @doublesidedscoobysnacks

@imthatbitchsworld @soul–notforsale @toni9 @someone-really-bored @venustrap04 @chrisevansdaddycap @kittykatlow @live-laugh-love-ki @asiaaisa77 @melanicia @fistmetonystark @livinglifeformemyselfandi @crowngold @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @lost- ssoull @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls​ @shar74nett @cltex84 @badbitchhtown @petty-bitch-akira​ @unknownmystery22 @raveviolet @madixii @almosttherebutnot @rainbowkisses31​ @smediumsmeatbae @bernie-k @nina1800 @nervousninjatheorist @lo-cheu @creole-mami @acciolove724 @shipatheart @captainchrisstan @ramp-it-up @bforbbgirl @brownskinafro @jhayes6984 @badbo1-evans @msblkfire84 @jovanaprime @poshgirl2 @marvelatthis30 @littlepreciousangel @youremysuperstar @alookintohersoul @cleopatra-knowles @xsweetdellzx @cxmfort​ @i-just-like-fanfics @storiestoldbyjazz @jennmurawski13 @imthewarmpenguininthemiddle @ak329​

@koko-michelle @sophiasotherdaughter @maeleeme  @mauvecherie​ @jbrizzywrites​ 

***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. Please check that you are taggable. I’m sorry.***

[ladyhistorypod]

Episode 12: The Lady History Library

Sources:

Zora Neale Hurston

National Women’s History Museum

Zora Neale Hurston Digital Archive, Chronology

Zora Neale Hurston: A Biography of the Spirit

Further Reading & Listening: The Dead Ladies Show (podcast), Wrapped in Rainbows: the Life of Zora Neale Hurston (audio book), The death and rebirth of Zora Neale Hurston (article/podcast), 

Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou’s Website

Time

Biography

National Women’s History Museum

The Harlem Writers Guild

Poetry Foundation

Mary Shelley

Literary Hub

History Channel

Encyclopedia

Biography

Poetry Foundation

British Library: Mary Shelley

British Library: Mary Shelley, Frankenstein and the Villa Diodati

University of Central Missouri

Somerset Live

Attributions: image of Maya Angelou, Book Page, Maya Angelou at Hillside Courtesy; William J. Clinton Presidential Library 

Click below for a transcript of this episode!

Archival Audio: Our story is about a library. Although this library is a new one, it is not much different from most. And the people you will see might be your own neighbors.

Alana: You guys we did it. (Laughing)

Lexi: Yes!

Haley: Guys, I was in the car going to my in-laws or like what my mom calls my in-laws because I don't know what to do– like what do you call your boyfriend's parents when you live with your boyfriend?

Lexi: Your boyfriend's parents.

Alana: Hey Riddle Riddle has a word for this. SOPAS. Significant other’s parents.

Lexi: Oh yeah!

Haley: I like that.

Lexi: That's good.

Alana: Your SOPAS.

Haley: We’re not, like, married but then I don't know like I feel like saying oh my boyfriend’s parents. And we heard it like on the radio and all the tweets just came rushing in and we were getting gas and I did like a little dance in the car.

Lexi: Awww.

Haley: And when we were driving up I kept clapping and saying thank you out the window to all the Biden/Harris signs and then hissing at all the Trump/Pence and I think I heard me. But like, come on.

Lexi: I was walking on the beach, and people were driving by with American flags honking and every time someone honked everyone would cheer. And then this guy came by in a Biden/Harris tee that he'd cut the sleeves off of so it was very like 1980s muscle tank and he had a little horn on his bike and he was talking and he was going “woo! Woo!”

Alana: That is so Biden.

Lexi: And then there was one guy who gave him the middle finger and everyone who was like around the area of the beach, like it's Covid so people like weren't like close together but people were like around each other and everyone just looked at that guy like. You’re the asshole.

Alana: There was like just tons of honking and it was a lot of fun. And then I was trying to take my Shabbat nap and there was still honking.

Haley: What I want to know like immediately, and I say that sarcastically because we have a lot of other fish to fry, is where his like presidential library is going to be. Because that's like law. In the fifties Congress passed a law that every US president has to have their library. My guess is that Trump’s is going to be in like Florida. Like right next to–

Lexi: You don’t think New York City?

Haley: No. I’m being fully serious when I say it's Florida because I don't think New York.

Lexi: Mar a Largo Presidential Library?

Alana: Yeah probably.

[INTRO MUSIC]

Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History; the good, the bad, and the ugly ladies you missed in history class. Today I'm joined in the Lady History library by Lexi. Lexi, what's the best grade you've gotten on a paper about a book you didn't read?

Lexi: Well I have to tell you something, Alana. I have never not read a book for school. I am a kiss ass. I'm a loser. I never had–

Alana: Haley is doing the big L

Lexi: L. on her forehead. I know. I was called all sorts of names. Brownnoser, ass-kisser… My number one teacher relationship was with the AP literature teacher. I read every word of Light in August. I read every word of One Hundred Years of Solitude. So, sorry to disappoint you but–

Alana: You’re blowing my mind right now. 

Lexi: I read all of Crime and Punishment word for word.

Alana: Our other librarian is Haley. Haley, what do you think is the most overrated book in the straight white male literary canon?

Haley: Anything from Shakespeare.

Alana: I love you so much Haley. I also don't like Shakespeare.

Lexi: There's a theory that he might be three women pretending to be a man.

Alana: And I'm Alana and I believe everyone has two favorite books; their intellectual favorite and their actual favorite.

Lexi: One hundred percent true.

Alana: So this is my post intro banter; what is your intellectual favorite and what is your actual favorite. Intellectual favorite is like your favorite that you had to read for school, and then like your real favorite.

Haley: That's assuming I like, read books in high school. Okay, let me–

Lexi: I’m the opposite.

Haley: Like, let me– okay, I'm like on the spectrum of dyslexia. My mom may come after me, she doesn’t listen to the podcast, it's fine, she's in denial about it. But I have a really hard time doing pronunciation in my head and pronouncing words. It just, it happened. I didn't really start reading until the second grade. So going into high school, I had to do the standardized testing. I got a one on the English and then like a four on the science? Because those were like the two that worked. And they thought I was like the stupidest person in the world. Like they couldn't like. Brain fathom that I didn't think the same way for reading grammar and like reading books because they were like “did you– what happened? You got a four on science.” And I just, I did not read like it was never– and I read books on the side. My mom would like see me reading like Harry Potter, Hunger Games, all the YA books of the time and not reading school books. And it was just like out of disdain. But I think if I had to pick out of like the five I actually read was One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest because I knew I would watch the movie with Jack Nicholson and I actually like the book. And then fun book, I don't have a favorite fun book, I just have a genre. Like that cheesy romance novels.

Alana: Oh yeah.

Haley: Not the ones about sex, but just like the girl finding the guy… the single mom like figuring life out. Anything from like Jennifer Hyde, Jasmine Guillory, those books are my jam because I know that like I'm so distant from them. Just like in retrospect and I don't have those type of human emotions. I’m like “oh. That’s– that is a fantasy.” That is my fantasy type thing. Like I think I can like see a pig fly or just like Harry Potter's wand come shooting at my brain cells, but like girl falling in love because she met a guy at the bookstore? That sounds fake.

Alana: I want to point out. Haley is the only one of us who’s in a romantic relationship right now.

Lexi: I think that says something about if you have too high expectations… you’re gonna be single. (Laughing)

Haley: Remember, I thought like my longtime boyfriend was gay and in a relationship the man he was sitting on the couch with.

Lexi: So, okay. My favorite intellectual book is probably One Hundred Years of Solitude, and people always like “why the hell do you like that book… like incest… like what's wrong with you?” I just think it’s really well written. Like, I think it's very visual in how it describes things and it's like full of like visual metaphor and now I sound like an asshole the way I’m talking. Like I love books.

Haley: No, I am so happy you said that because I tried reading that book. That was never recommended in school, but after finishing school and like learning to love to read through like summer vacation and then also college, I found one of those buzzfeed list of like a hundred books you had to read in school and I've been trying to like pick them off. And I've tried to read that book like two to three times and I can't get past page 70, and I don't know if that's just me or that's like the book. But it's probably me. But now that you’ve said this I'm gonna start it again.

Lexi: I think it takes a certain kind of person to enjoy it, but it's a very good book. And then my fun book– that's hard because I love lots of fun books. Like I want to say The Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty but that's not really fun, that's actually quite intellectual. Oh, now I sound like more of an asshole! I can’t not sound like an asshole this episode.

Alana: Today on Lady History: Lexi’s an asshole.

Lexi: I'm a literary snob. But no, this– this’ll redeem me. My all time favorite book like of all time is called the Perkin Papers, and quite frankly I don't know if it even still exists, like I don't think you can buy a new copy of it because the copy I have is from the 1930s and I found it at an auction in a box when I was five. But it's gotten me through some rough times.

Haley: That is the most Lexi way of finding a motherfucking book if I’ve ever heard one.

Lexi: I go to a lot of weird places to find books. So my favorite smart person book, or my favorite high school book is Frankenstein which oh my god sneak peek foreshadowing. And then my favorite actual, my actual favorite fun book is either Good Omens which I read before I knew the show was coming out by the way. I am not a bandwagoner. Not that there's anything wrong with being a bandwagoner but I am not a bandwagoner. Or an Absolutely Remarkable Thing by Hank Green and the sequel, A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor. But I think that Hank Green's books are beautiful depictions and explorations of humanity and social media.

LEXI’S STORY STARTS HERE

Archival Audio: This little song is a story. The young lady thinks that it's time for them to get married, in fact if she thinks they just have to, and the boy doesn’t want to marry. And so this song’s about it. (Singing) Tilly, lend me your pigeon. He caught me with mine. My pigeon’s gone wild in the bush. My pigeon’s gone wild. My pigeon’s gone wild in the bush. My pigeon’s gone wild.

Lexi: I have two things in common with Zora Neale Hurston, any guesses on what those two things are?

Alana: You love the bison at the zoo.

Haley: You both have owned birds.

Lexi: I don't think either of those are true of Zora Neale Hurston. But, those two things it is is that she was a trained anthropologist and she went to a college in Washington DC.

Alana: Okay my guess was that you both lived in DC for– my actual guess was that you both lived in DC for a while, and I know that sounds like “eheheh that’s what I was going to say” but that is, like, what I was going to say.

Lexi: No I believe that you would have guessed that because I think it's like… People reference her around DC because she spent some time there. Although she didn’t spend that long there. Anyway and then the funny thing is you both also kinda had that come with her so. Haha.

Alana: That's true. 

Lexi: We all have those two things in common with Zora Neale Hurston. Now I will begin. So, let's jump into her story… book, get it? She's an author and also Haley says that a lot of times so it’s not that unique that I said that. Zora was born on January 15, 1891 in Notasulga? I might be saying that wrong. Notasulga, Alabama. And like many other young Black women in her era, both her parents had been enslaved. And when she was very young her family moved to Florida and settled in Eatonville, which is one of the first towns in the United States to be incorporated by African-Americans, so she grew up in an area with a lot of African-American leaders.

Speaker 2: There, her father became mayor and pastor at the local church and her mother Lucy Potts Hurston died in 1904 and her father remarried. Zora and her stepmother did not get along, and so the young girl went to live with other family members, spending a lot of time with her brother in her brother's homes. In 1914, she moved to Memphis and began working as a nanny for one of her brother’s children. And she then became a maid and moved to Baltimore. In Baltimore, she eventually became a waitress and decided to go back to school, studying at night. And on September 17, 1917, Zora at the age of 26 enrolled at the Morgan Academy. She graduated with a high school degree a year later and moved to Washington DC where she began working as a manicurist and continued to work as a waitress. That fall she entered Howard University and in two years she earned an associate's degree. Zora co-founded The Hilltop, which is still Howard's student newspaper to this day. She then moved to New York City. Zora, through a scholarship she earned, attended Barnard College. There, she declared herself an English major, but was also passionate about anthropology, studying under the famed “founding father” anthropologist Franz Boas. Also while in New York, she befriended notable Harlem icons such as Langston Hughes and Countee Cullen. She became a part of the Black cultural movement, joining many other Black writers living and working in Harlem. At the end of her college career, Professor Boas encouraged her to collect Black folklife in the south. This experience shaped future work. As both an anthropologist and author, Zora dedicated her life to the preservation and promotion of Black cultural studies. She did not only study Black culture and African diaspora in the United States of America, but also visited the islands of Haiti, the Bahamas, and Jamaica; studying religion and reporting her findings in US newspapers. In addition to producing ethnographic work for her research, she also used her studies of Black culture, religion, and folklife to inspire her fiction writing. She also collaborated with Langston Hughes on her writing. Her most famous work, Their Eyes Were Watching God, is notable for breaking barriers as one of the first fiction novels to explore the experience of a Black woman in America. Today, the novel is used as an educational tool in high school literature classes and college anthropology and American studies courses. If you have not read it, do yourself a favor; go pick up a copy from your local bookstore or library. It was the book that inspired me to pick Zora for this episode and it's one of the works that inspired me to study anthropology in college because when I read it as a junior in high school I was like this is really interesting I need to know more about this lady and how she got all this information to make the story. And I found out how she did ethnographic work and I was like “that's a job?” So anyway, that’s really cool. Zora wore many hats, and anthropology and literature were not her only passions. She also taught drama at the North Carolina College for Negroes, which is now the North Carolina Central University and she worked as a consultant for a movie studio, Paramount Pictures. In the 1940s, Zora lived on a houseboat that she called Wanago. And also in a controversial hot take zero oppose the Supreme Court ruling in Brown V. Board, believing integration would actually result in assimilation and destroy the cultural transmission of knowledge between Black teachers and Black students, which I guess makes a bit of sense. At the time, integration meant a lot of Black students went on to have white teachers and a lot of Black teachers were no longer teaching. And cultural representation in education really matters because sometimes without specific cultural understanding, meeting students’ needs can be really hard, and we still see this problem today. So obviously I don't believe in school segregation, but I think Zora’s point could be used today to support hiring diversity and hiring teachers who reflect diverse communities where they teach. Zora was married three times, but it never lasted long. I think they were all like a year, but honestly they’re such a footnote in her life it's hard to find resources on these guys. Through her lifetime, Zora was largely ignored by mainstream white literary critics and she had a large following in the Black community. She was usually underpaid for her work and she lived poorly for most of her life. Towards the end of her life, despite being an accomplished author, she was evicted. She suffered a stroke in 1959, and in old age she was forced to enter the St Lucie County Welfare Home where she was cared for until her death of heart disease on January 28, 1960. Because she had no money or close relatives, she was buried in an unmarked grave and her funeral was held through donations collected from her friends. When Alice Walker, the author known for her book The Color Purple, found out Zora’s grave was unmarked, she decided to do something about it. In 1972, she found Zora’s grave and commissioned a marker for it. The marker reads “ZORA NEALE HURSTON / A GENIUS OF THE SOUTH / NOVELIST FOLKLORIST / ANTHROPOLOGIST / 1901–1960." And yes, she got the birthday wrong, but that's okay because she did an awesome thing recognizing her. Though in life, Zora’s work was overlooked, in death she became an icon, and is considered one of the best writers of her time. Today many modern authors consider her an influence on their work. Her folklife recordings and manuscripts are held in the Zora Neale Hurston archive at the University of Central Florida and can be accessed online through their website or the Library of Congress. Her hometown, Eatonville, Florida, honors her with the Zora Neale Hurston Museum of Fine Arts and the Zora Neale Hurston Library; two fitting tributes to her passion for arts, culture, and literature. And, so I know I said that the reason I picked her was because of Their Eyes Were Watching God, and that's true but that's only half true. Another reason I love Zora Neale Hurston is that when I worked at the zoo there were two bison at the National Zoo, and there's always bison at the National Zoo because the first animal ever exhibited at the National Zoo was a bison and every time there's always two, and one is always named by Howard University and one is always named by Gallaudet University because they’re two universities in DC, and the students vote through a poll to name each of the bison that represent their school. And this started as a tradition because the bison is the mascot of Howard. They are the Howard bison, so that's how this tradition started. And usually the Howard students pick an alum of their university to be the bison's name, and so while I was working at the zoo, the bison named by Howard students was named Zora and she was named after Zora Neale Hurston, who got her associate's degree from Howard University. And that's pretty cool, but unfortunately I just found out recently that Zora passed away March 7, 2020 from an leg injury. And when big animals like bison and horses get leg injuries, they can't really recover. They have to be humanely euthanized, which really stinks. But they do have two new baby bison at the zoo that just got named this July.

HALEY’S STORY STARTS HERE

Archival Audio: History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again. Lift up your eyes upon This day breaking for you. Give birth again To the dream. Women, children, men, Take it into the palms of your hands, Mold it into the shape of your most Private need. Sculpt it into The image of your most public self. Lift up your hearts Each new hour holds new chances For a new beginning.

Haley: So, like Lexi said, I always say let’s crack open that story book, and that’s exactly what we're gonna do today for Marguerite Annie Johnson or Maya Angelou. I'm gonna try a new way of quote “storytelling” for just in general huge historic heroes by telling a couple of quote “short stories' ' rather than like one long telling of their life-icles.

Lexi: Vignettes.

Haley: What?

Lexi: Vignettes. Like if you ever read the book The Things They Carried– oh my god Lexi’s a literary snob. It's a book told in vignettes.

Alana: Vine was also short for vignettes.

Haley: And I thought it was fitting to do it for our author ladies because like short stories, haha so funny. And especially our author, Maya, has written 36 books and some of those actually include cookbooks, so throwback to our previous episode. So, story number one I've titled quote “I love the uniforms.” So Maya had spent some time in San Francisco, and she was actually the first female African American cable car conductor. So for those of you who are not familiar with San Francisco's cable car, they’re the classic almost like trolley-like vehicles that make a bunch of noise when you hear them. And they're mainly downtown SF to go up and down those massive eff off hills, and they’re a huge tourist attraction at this point. And the secret is, guys do this if you're ever in SF, past corona, all that good stuff. It's fourteen dollars to like ride it. But if you get one of those like day passes included, then that's– like that's what you have to do. You have to make sure the day pass you get or if you're a local because a lot of them use it for their transportation of like if you're on top of Knob Hill you go down the hill or up the hill to get to really where like the financial district stuff is… all the big businesses. and in our like monthly pass where you pay like eighty dollars for it you get like unlimited trolley car… or, cable car… I always called it the trolley. I don't know why, but Robert and other locals would yell at me saying “it's the cable car. The trolley is something different.” They all look the same to me and I'm still gonna get lost either way. Anyhoo, sixteen year old Maya wanted this job and even said on like an Oprah Winfrey talk show, “I loved the uniforms,” hence the title. And it was her mother who actually said that she should go to the city office and get the job if she wanted it so badly. And when she went to the area like where the cable car conductors got hired, she was noted to be reading Russian literature. And she wasn't first hired or even allowed to like apply because of her race. Because surprise surprise, America wasn't woke and it’s still not woke. But she read her Russian literature, like the boss girl she is, and was hired. When she like, she didn't get the application actually before being hired. She was under the legal age so she actually wrote that she was 19 like the badass she was. and as a conductor her mom would also join her. And like she's currently conducting at like the butt crack of dawn at four AM and her mom would kind of go behind a trolley car. And the trolley car isn’t like a closed vehicle. It’s not like a bus or train where the doors close. You can just hop on and you'll see people hold onto a pole and stand on the outside, and cars come like within inches of you. You can't even have like a backpack or something. Like you have to like hug yourself to this pole, essentially. I've almost gotten hit once or twice. Also for cars going by, there are special lanes, if this was like the same back then as well. There are special lanes that these cable cars can go through. Regardless her mom would trail Maya’s cable car and Maya said quote “with her pistol on the passenger seat.” So I love that. I don’t– like I just– ugh. Juicy. And she worked there for about a semester before deciding to return to school. Second story, I'm calling it “getting pen to paper.” In the 1950s, African American writers in New York City formed The Harlem Writers Guild to essentially support Black authors in the publication process and affirm them as the beautiful writers they are. And the Guild is still around today, the link is in the show notes, of course of course. And she was one of the early members and during this time she began to write I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, an autobiography of her life that was published in 1969, And many claim to be her most famous book. This is now where like my memory is kind of getting fuzzy because I read a lot of her books, and a lot of her books– or, most of her books are autobiographies or what she actually created as a genre during this time as autobiographical fiction. And that’s basically taking parts of your life and adding some elaborate essence to connect it more, make it more juicy. And this one I think is the one that took like thirteen years to write. Like she kinda wrote it along with her life and also included some earlier parts. So she just like took truly the most time and it really paid off. And she also during this time in the Guild continued to explore art forms in poetry, dance, music, and even like writing and directing films. So we get just her really explain herself as a writer. And lastly, we have story number three, which I have called quote “On the Pulse of Morning.” And On the Pulse of Morning was the title of the poem she read for Clinton's presidential inauguration in 1993. That's why when Alana was like “hey, let's– let's do a quick nod of the election,” I was like “haha! I got this.” She was the second poet ever to read an original work at a presidential inauguration. The first was Robert Frost at JFK's in 1961. And the poem itself shares themes of inclusion, change, and the role of the president, and like the responsibility it comes with, but also like the role and responsibility a citizen has, which are all things we should just remember right now, 2020. And she was chosen because she grew up in Stamps, Arkansas or like a lot of her childhood was in Stamps, Arkansas, which was rather close to where Clinton was born. And he said that her writing really resonated with him. For example, he was quoted saying ”When I read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, I knew exactly who she was talking about and what she was talking about in that book.” And that references how Clinton's grandfather managed a grocery store that was in a predominantly African American neighborhood. And actually for this spoken word poem, was recorded and she ended up winning a Grammy Award in 1994. It was apparently like an amazing amazing thing. I don't have enough time to go searching on the YouTubes for it because I was researching another gal because we're recording two episodes tonight. But it was noted to be almost as like a theatrical performance. She just exuded that power and greatness and dug deep into her roots of being a dancer and performer. Before I finish, because I have my three short stories, I would like to note that Maya at times had a very difficult life with racial injustice, physical and sexual assault, loss, and just– the list goes on. But I did not want to pick stories on that because even in her a lot of her books she would focus on the positives and say how she took the bad and turned it into something good. And each three of those stories had a little nugget so dig deep into what I said and pick out positive from the not so positive; the bad, if you will. And I would just like to share my favorite book of hers which was published in 2013, a year before she died, and it's Mom and Me and Mom. And she also died at age 83 so she lived quite a life. One of my favorite quotes of hers is “If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude.”

ALANA’S STORY STARTS HERE

Archival Audio: She's beautiful, she's evil, and she'll do anything for love. Never been a movie like Lady Frankenstein.

Alana: I'm so excited for this. My lady for today is Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, née Wollstonecraft Godwin; the teenage girl who invented science fiction and my O.G. goth queen. You may have seen some internet history lessons that you should of course take with more salt than the Dead Sea and I will note those when they come up, but sneak peek I have wonderful news about them. Mary was born August 30, 1797, that makes her a Virgo. Her parents were William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft– yes that Mary Wollstonecraft, the author of A Vindication of the Rights of Women. Side note, I think we should do an episode on pre-first wave feminism feminists and I am calling dibs on Mary Wollstonecraft. They'd only gotten married that March scandal noises, gasp, shock and awe, possibly because William what was this radical anti marriage philosopher freethinker, and then his lover– not my favorite word, but anytime I use the word lover I am referencing Hadestown– was pregnant and it was a propriety thing. Although Mary Wollstonecraft had already had another daughter from a previous affair with an American businessman and I don't think they were married. Yeah, that's the real shock and awe. There is so much shock and awe, scandal in this story. Get ready for it. Just a week and a half after Mary was born on September 10, her mother died of complications from the child birth. And those complications can basically be summed up with 18th century doctors didn't wash their hands. And William Godwin made it very clear to Mary that she was a monster who had killed her mother. Literary scholar Sandra Gilbert has argued that Frankenstein is a projection of her own life. A quote unquote “monster” trying to have a relationship with the parent whose life it ruined. William remarried their neighbor Mary Jane Clairmont who had two kids of her own. And then William and Mary Jane had a son, so now Mary has four half and/or step siblings. Her stepmother vastly preferred her own children. Mary and her stepsister Claire would go on to spend quite a bit of time together but we'll get into that in a bit. Mary found solace at her mother's grave at St Pancras Church in London. She learned to write her name by tracing the letters on the tombstone, and that's only like the third most goth thing about her. But nobody talks about this one. I just think– I think it's like cute goth. Like kawaii goth. She would just like to hang out there and read or whatever like it was her spot. Normal kids have treehouses, Mary had her mother's grave. She published a kids’ book at the age of eleven called, I'm gonna butcher this pronunciation, but it’s not spelled like French so I guess this is on you Mary that I'm gonna mess this up. Mounseer Nongtongpaw; or, the Discoveries of John Bull in a Trip to Paris. It was her father's publishing company, so just a skosh of nepotism there, but it's still cool that she was eleven and published. In 1812, when she was fourteen, her father sent her to Scotland to live with some family friends, the Baxters, at her step mother's request. One of my sources said that Mrs Godwin felt quote “threatened by Mary” who had become the quote “beautiful image of his first wife” which. Mm. I do not like. Do not like. Mm. Okay. But you know what? Whatever though, because Mary is thriving. She feels good, she's away from her wicked stepmother, she's made friends with the Baxters’ youngest daughter Isabel, and she's like healthy and just like thriving. She's, she's living her best self. That November, she briefly visited home and this is potentially– it's kind of disputed by scholars, but this is potentially the first time she met, heart eyes emoji, Percy Shelley but he was still married to his first wife Harriet. Percy had come to study under Mary's father, but they were immediately smitten. In 1814 William Godwin brought his daughter home like for permanents because he wanted her to start earning her own living. But I think if Mary actually met Percy before in 1812, I like to imagine him just being like “hey, Mr Godwin, you know what would be really cool? It would be really cool if Mary were here. Don't you think I would be really cool if Mary were here?” But I… like I don't know if that's what happened. But this is where Percy and Mary have definitely met, and they read together and they have intellectual discussions. He’s very impressed by her parentage and her intellect, and they started their affair and they're very much in love. Mary takes him to her favorite place, her mother's grave, to profess her love for him. This is also where Percy asks her to marry him. And this is our first internet history lesson. You may have seen that Mary Shelley lost her virginity on her mother's grave. Most scholars say yeah. That happened. That's true. Because it was a very– it was a place of emotional growth for Mary. Percy later said that having sex with Mary was his real birthday. I hate this man.

Lexi: It seems like they all had a lot of problems.

Alana: I hate this man. I hate him so much. And we're gonna get more into why I hate him so much, but, okay. Percy supposedly gave Mary's dad twelve hundred pounds, which is now over eighty four thousand pounds, which is over a hundred and ten thousand dollars, in exchange for him to allow Percy and Mary to run away together. Mr Godwin took the money and said no. But Mary and Percy ran away to Switzerland anyway. And Mary's dad doesn't speak to her for two and a half years. I want to point out, Percy is still married to another woman at this point, who was pregnant and they already had a child together.

Haley: I was just about to ask that.

Lexi: Yeah.

Alana: They're still married. Mary’s stepsister, Claire, who I mentioned, comes with them as a translator. But it's possible that Percy was also having an affair with her and they were a throuple. Percy was like all about free love and probably would have been one of those dudes on Bumble who's like “ethical non monogamy.” I'm looking at Lexi because she knows exactly what I'm talking about.

Lexi: I’m like envisioning a meme where it's his profile and he’s got like books, book emoji, cigarette emoji. He’s real edgy.

Alana: Oh yeah, totally. There is also evidence that Mary had affairs too, so this is like 19th century polyamory. Claire did eventually leave their household when Mary's jealousy kind of like physically made her ill. It just like she sank into this deep depression that magically got better when Claire moved out. They’re constantly on the move because Percy owes a lot of people a lot of money and he has to keep running away from creditors. Like, he– he gave someone a hundred and ten thousand dollars for permission to do something he was gonna do anyway. So, hm. Not great.

Speaker 1: Here is what everyone is waiting for, the writing of Frankenstein. This is a very famous story that they've done on Drunk History which was very funny to watch a drunk person try and say Wollstonecraft Godwin. I died laughing for ten whole minutes. And there’s an episode of Doctor Who about it, and side note the Thirteenth Doctor is chef's kiss A plus amazing, it's a whole new show and I love it. So 1816 was the year without a summer because the Indonesian volcano Mount Tamboro, I hope I'm pronouncing that right, had erupted the year before and covered basically the whole planet in a giant ash cloud. I am being dramatic, but my point is it was dark and gloomy and rainy the whole summer across Europe. So Claire’s back, and she’s pregnant with Lord Byron's– yes, that Lord Byron’s– child. And Lord Byron is staying at the Villa Diodati in Geneva, and the three of them meet him there and they're all hanging out. Are they having orgies? Maybe. Byron and Percy had been talking about Romantic– capital R. romantic, as in the 19th century cultural movement, those kind of ideas about death and magic and life and ooky spooky stuff. And so they start a ghost-story off. And this is where Mary begins Frankenstein. It wasn't all written in that night. I feel like that's a misconception, that she wrote all of it that night, but that was just like the idea. Most of it was actually written in Bath when everyone went back to England. And it wasn’t off-the-cuff either. Like Mary had a really hard time coming up with her idea. Percy and Mary finally got real married in December of 1816 after his first wife Harriet committed suicide. Apparently she was pregnant with another man's child, but honey have you seen what's going on here? I think you would've been fine. But Percy was denied custody of their children and he believed he might have a better chance of getting custody if he were quote– massive air quotes– “settled down.” This didn't work, but Mary's dad starts talking to her again, so that's nice. And Mary had a huge role in Percy Shelley's legacy, probably because some of survivor's guilt. He drowned in a shipwreck with two of his friends off the coast of Italy in July 1822 while Mary was recovering from a miscarriage that almost killed her. When Percy's body washed up, he was only identifiable by the Keats poetry in his pocket. Percy was cremated on the beach and his heart did not burn. That's true. Modern doctors say it probably calcified from a bout with tuberculosis earlier in his life. One of his friends took the heart and kept it and only gave it to Mary after her constantly bugging him. Which leads us to our second internet history lesson. Did she keep Percy Shelley's heart? Yes and no. When Mary died in 1850, her family definitely found his heart in her desk wrapped in the pages of his final poem, Adonaïs which is like a really sweet love poem. You should read that. But read Frankenstein first. Did she actually carry it everywhere? Uncertain. Maybe, but they definitely found it in her desk so she definitely had it. We're– we're not really sure where it is now. I don't know how that's possible, but I have conflicting sources. It's possible that it's with Mary or with their only child who had reached adulthood Percy Florence Shelley. They’d had a bunch of kids who either died super young or only lived like a few days. Mary is primarily responsible for the posthumous collection of Percy Shelley's work. So that's like all her. It’s like in her writing credits that she edited all of these collections. After Percy died, Mary turned down several marriage proposals because she quote “wanted to be Mary Shelley on her tombstone” which is really sweet. Side note, thank you to 19th century people for writing down all your feelings in like journals and thoughts and everything and then keeping them. I love that we know what you were thinking because there was no Twitter for you to document your whole lives the way that I do, although of course if you see me on Twitter, no you don't. This is where the stories about her usually stop after, Percy died. But, Alana, you said that she died in 1850, Percy died in 1822. What on earth did she do with those 28 years? I am so glad that you asked. First of all, she wrote a bunch more, thank you very much. Five more novels that weren't Frankenstein were published in her lifetime and at least twenty short stories. While she was no longer the radical she had been when she was with Percy, she took it upon herself to protect the women in her life. Claire, who lived with her on and off, obviously who I brought up a couple times. She lived with and supported the wife and children of one of Percy's friends who had also drowned. She helped her childhood friend Isabel, Isabel Baxter, from before, get out of England when she had a child out of wedlock. So she was protecting her, her friends. Mary died of brain cancer in 1850. Her son and his wife had her parents’ bodies exhumed and she's buried between them in St Peter's Church in Bournemouth. There are plans for a Mary Shelley museum in Bath, just up the street from the Jane Austen Centre and very much in the same style of like employees in period clothes and family friendly. The most recent article that I found about it was from June and one of the people in charge of it said that it would be finished by the end of the year slash early 2021, and that tourism would pick back up by then, but it's November and the U. K. just went back into lockdown, so I don’t think that schedule is still what’s happening. But, once travel is a thing again and once that Mary Shelley museum is open I think Lady History field trip to Bath. Shout outs to some professor at the University of Central Missouri for putting their study guide or test for Frankenstein as a PDF on the university website. The timeline of Mary's life on the first few pages was very helpful. I hope it wasn't a student who cheated, but the url is like UCM dot EDU, so… I just– I love Mary Shelley so much. I used– I made this joke in high school when we were reading Frankenstein that I think I am Mary Shelley reincarnated. Like if reincarnation is real, I would buy that. Like I'm only half kidding. But if reincarnation is real, which I don't know. I don't know if reincarnation is real. I know hell is not real, that's for sure. I also think it would be cool to be a ghost. Anyway… Lexi why are you laughing at me?

Lexi: It’s just very you.

Alana: Yeah. Anyway. So that is the story of Mary Shelley, the teenager who invented science fiction, and if you think it was some like, Isaac Asimov or whatever, who I literally saw in a meme once. If you think a man invented sci fi you are incorrect.

Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on lady history pod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review or tell your friends,and if you don't like the show keep it to yourself.

Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra, you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, Garageband, and Amelia Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us next time, on Lady History.

[OUTRO MUSIC]

Haley: Next time on Lady History; we're going to be discussing some ladies whose lives were unfortunately cut a little too short.

[liv-andletdie]

4, 13, 49, 53, 60 For all them Cub Kids

Thanks for the questions (I know you said in a different message to ignore 49 and 53 but they’re really fun questions so I’m doing them oops) 

Alexei 

4) Does anyone have a crush on your character? Is your character aware of this?A lot of people get crushes on Alexei, especially when he reaches his 20th year. He’s an alright looking kid but he’s just got one of those faces that doesn’t get “handsome” till he matures. And then there’s definitely some giggles from a few of the ladies at court when he enters a room, but he’s not really aware of them. Zelda will sometimes joke that he’s got lots of admirers, he just brushes her off mostly.

13) What would your character die for? His family. Without a doubt. He doesn’t have to think twice about it, if his family is in danger he’ll want to be on the front line risking everything to make sure they are safe. (He’s particularly protective over Julius and Nutty) 49) How does your character stand politically? He’s not really political until he starts to work in the army and he starts talking to his fellow soldiers. He then realizes that there’s a lot that not’s perfect in Hyrule (and honestly what country is perfect?) but he starts campaigning for better pay for some of the soldiers, more leave time for those who’s families don’t live in Castle Town, Maternal and Paternal leave for soldiers who are starting a family, that kind of stuff. 53)  What clubs would your character join? If he went to my school growing up he’d have been that one kid who was great at sports and who all the teachers liked, so any club he’d join would reflect that. We didn’t have a fencing club at my school but that’s something that he would find interesting I feel.

60) If you could title your character’s life, what would you title it? You know I’m not great with titles (”Paint me like one of your Zora girls” is the best example of that) But I’m guessing… if it were a novel or a play it might be.. Idk “The wolf and the sword” relating to his relationship with his father and his talent with the blade.

Rest of the cubs under the cut

Augustine

4) Does anyone have a crush on your character? Is your character aware of this? It’s actually another OC Pierre, Shad and Ashei’s son, grew up really close with Tina and Alexei (he’s the closest in age to both of them, only being a year younger than Alexei and an year older than Augustine) He’s not sure but at some point, probably around the time he reached 17, he started seeing Augustine as more than a friend and then everything got quite awkward because didn’t want to proclaim his feelings for her and end up getting rejected and ruining their friendship. So for the longest time he just sat and had a crush on her in silence. Did Augustine know? No. He hid his feelings that well, and she’s that blind to people being attracted to her, that she just thought he was coming down with a chest cold or something. 

13)  What would your character die for? She’s the same as Alexei. She would die for her family. Except while Alexei is protective of Julius and Nutty, She is very protective of him. Her big brother. 49)  How does your character stand politically? She’s trained to take the throne so she’s been taught to be impartial and to work only with the facts presented to her (obviously a lot of facts never reach royal ears, despite how long they are, and no action is taken) She’s like her mother in the way that everything she does is for Hyrule. Zelda takes the stand that she was placed on the throne to protect her people, and if they are unhappy then it’s her fault and if they want her gone they are within their rights to do so. It’s a privilege not a right. And she’s passed that philosophy onto Augustine.53)  What clubs would your character join? ALL OF THE DANCE CLUBS! Mostly things like Ballet and Ballroom dance (waltz in particular) but she wouldn’t be averse to joining the tap club. Heck she might even join Zumba if she was in my school. 

60)  If you could title your character’s life, what would you title it? Now this one was actually easy! “Silver slippers, silver tongue” as it represents her political powers and her love of dance

Marta 

4) Does anyone have a crush on your character? Is your character aware of this? Marta is actually the most “beautiful” of the cubs (not that she believes it) so when she reaches marrying age they find that she gets a lot of suitors asking for her hand despite maybe only having met her at a few parties. She’s aware of people’s “affections” towards her but only because they don’t tend to hide them. She’s not a big fan of big romantic gestures from men, and for the longest time she fully believes that she just doesn’t like romantic gestures… until one of the ladies gives her a rose and she just about dies on the spot. 

13)  What would your character die for? Family again but aside from that her animals. She counts them as part of the family (she’s the only cub that Epona will let touch her for an extended period of time, putting her in a very unique club that only has Link and Ilia as members) When she raises her first colt at 10 with her father she realized that this was “where the Goddesses have put me, this is my job” 49)  How does your character stand politically? Augustine looks after the people of Hyrule, Marta looks after the animals. She’s a huge advocate for animal rights and is very VERY outspoken about it. She works hard to make sure that all animals are looked after and are cared for properly. But don’t get the wrong idea, she’s not like PETA, she doesn’t spread dumb rumors like “Sheep die from being sheared” “People milk cows till they bleed” “They tear babies away from their mothers to sell them” You’ve got to remember that her father was a Goatherd for the first half of his life, she’s seen how ranches work first hand and the care that the animals are given. She just wants to do more to help.53)  What clubs would your character join? Is there such thing as a gardening club? Well if there was she would be the president of that club! They have a little herb garden in Ordon and it’s always her favourite place to be when they visit family down there.

60)  If you could title your character’s life, what would you title it? Marta in the middle  I’m kidding. This one is tricky one hm… “Roses and Violets” as Roses are her favourite flowers and I’ll let you research Violets.

Julius 

4) Does anyone have a crush on your character? Is your character aware of this? It takes a while for him to really grow into his features, he looks more like Zelda so people tend to say he’s very “beautiful” and that’s attractive to some and not as important to others. He is quite unconcerned if people find him attractive or not, sometimes he receives the odd “love letter” from a member of court but he never really ruminates on them for long. He’s got more important things to worry over in his eyes.  

13)  What would your character die for? Marta. Out of everyone in the family he’s closest to her. Don’t get me wrong he loves his family with all his heart, but she’s the one he would die for. She raised his horse, she takes him out shooting, she reads to him when he’s having weak days, she teaches him how to sew. They also the closest in age, being just over a year apart. 49)  How does your character stand politically? He’s very much like Augustine in the idea that his main concern should be Hyrule as a whole, however he is very passionate about healthcare and what could be done to improve it. He’s talked to Alexei a lot about creating a program that entitles the soldiers and their families to free healthcare, and he’s even broached the topic with Augustine. He feels that he’s lucky to get the support he has from Royal doctors and medics, but he wishes that the people would be able to get the same level of care as he does. 53)  What clubs would your character join? Archery and riding. It’s his favourite things to do because a lot of the time they don’t require anyone else. He needs help getting into his saddle some days but once he’s up there he’s free. And that freedom and independence is something that he really cherishes 

60)  If you could title your character’s life, what would you title it? “One step at a time” It’s his personal mantra to himself everyday, to keep going to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  

Natalya (Nutty)

4) Does anyone have a crush on your character? Is your character aware of this? She’s quite similar to Julius in that she feels like there’s more important things in her life than finding romance. She’s had a few people develop “crushes” on her in the way that you develop a crush on a celebrity.

13)  What would your character die for? Her parents. As the youngest she’s not under the same kind of pressure as Augustine or Alexei so she tends to notice a little more. She see’s the kind of work that Zelda and Link do and how they struggle with the difficult decisions that they have to make. It’s not easy running a country, it’s not easy running an Army, and it’s not easy trying to do both of those things with 5 children. You can’t solve every problem and Natalya see’s how that weighs on her mothers heart. She’d do anything for her and Link. 49)  How does your character stand politically? She’s the most apolitical of the bunch. Obviously if there is an issue she can see she’ll want to do something to help, but it’s not on the forefront of her mind. Her biggest concern is trying to make sure her older siblings and her parents don’t die of stress! 53)  What clubs would your character join? Music clubs. Music is her main passion in life, having started learning different instruments from a very young age. She prides herself on being able to write and play songs and it’s one of the ways she bonds with Augustine. To her it’s more than just making pretty sounds, it’s a way to help the ones she loves relax and feel happy. She wrote a lullaby for Link and will play it to him sometimes when he’s had a very, very, long day. 

60)  If you could title your character’s life, what would you title it? “The Little Songbird” for a lot of obvious reasons but the main one being that it’s one of Link’s nicknames for her. 

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {3}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Nah.

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think my marriage is done.”

    Zora and Kizzy looked to each other then back at you. They didn’t speak; it was like they were waiting for something else from you. “Hello, bitches! Did you hear me?”

    “Hold up, don’t go calling us out our name because you’re going through stuff,” Kizzy snapped. You rolled your eyes. She was right. You were high strung. It had been seven hours since your conversation with Chris. He hadn’t called you back, didn’t text, nothing. You were hurt and still pissed.

    “Is this because of the video?” You nodded.

    “What did Chris have to say?” Rolling your eyes, they knew the answer to that. You didn’t have siblings; your cousins were your siblings, and your best friend was your family. They’d been with you through everything, childhood, road to fame, big break, they were even there when you’d met Chris in France. You told them everything. “That great huh,” Zora continued.

“It was like he refused to see my side, he refused to say he’d set boundaries, refused to care.” You tried not to get emotional again. You hated crying.

    “Was this a productive conversation Riah or were you the pissed off wife throwing accusations?” Your jaw dropped at her insinuation. You knew they were on your side, but sometimes you just didn’t know.

    “I didn’t insinuate anything. Yes, I as the pissed off wife because I am pissed off. If he ever expresses he is uncomfortable with something I make a note to change it. It was whatever to be this way when he was single, but he asked me to marry him, it wasn’t the other way around. If it was what he wanted, he should move away from that behavior,” you ranted.

    “We hear you and agree. We just want to make sure you understand part of a marriage is also proper communication. You can’t press his buttons and disrespect him verbally.” Raising your eyebrow, you looked between them wondering if they’d talked to him. There had been plenty times he sought them out for advice on how to handle you. Yes, you could be a handful, but you had standards and refused to lower them even being married.

    “Did you guys talk to him?”

    “No. We know you Riah, we know your fighting style,” Zora explained.

    “Nothing will ever get resolved unless both of you actually listen to each other.” You listened to them carefully; you knew what they said was true, but you listened to Chris; he was the one who always had selective hearing. Then when he spoke, it was always to reply to something. He didn’t listen. Sometimes you wondered if he knew you at all.

    “Anyway, I have some days free. What do you say we hit up MIA and unwind?” Again, Zora and Kizzy looked between each other. They expected this. Whenever you and Chris argued you both disappeared for a few days. He disappeared with communication, and you actually disappeared preferring to get out of dodge.

    “You can’t run away from your husband Riah,” Kizzy informed.

   “I’m not running from anything. I just want to enjoy my few days free on the beach in Miami. Are y’all coming or not?”

    You knew they’d come. Slowly they smiled, and you knew you had em. You finished dinner taking heed to stay away from any of your drama and listening to theirs instead. When you left, you were bombarded by paps shouting questions at you. “Uriah, any comment on the footage of Chris with his costar?” “Uriah, is there trouble in your storybook romance?” “Do you and Chris have an open marriage?” You and yours pushed through the paps to your valeted car.

Before you got in one more photog shouted a question; “Any message you want to send to Ana De Armas?” That one tripped you up. Your slick ass mouth almost went off and said “back the fuck up off my man and find your own you thirsty bitch” but thankfully you caught yourself. Keeping a smile plastered to your face, you climbed into the driver’s side and drove off. You refused to play the jealous, territorial wife that was not the part you auditioned for.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twelve hours later, you were in Miami being shown to your penthouse. When the three of you walked inside, you marveled at the interior decoration; it screamed South Beach. You smiled and walked out to the private pool and closed your eyes with your head tilted to the sky. It was beautiful weather, and you intended to take advantage of it. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. It made your heartbeat pick up thinking it was Chris. Glancing down at the screen you sighed out seeing it wasn’t him. It was his sister Carly. Sighing you put it back in your pocket. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to her you just didn’t want to think about him, or anything related to him. You’d already failed your self-given challenge with a simple thing like a ringing phone.

    He didn’t call last night or text. It’s not that you expected him to, you didn’t—well part of you didn’t. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t hoped he’d call and apologize and say everything you wanted him to but you learned long ago individuals were their own people, no matter how much you hoped and wished for them to do something or be a way they probably wouldn’t because you couldn’t control them. It was a hard lesson to learn and an even harder one to stomach in a marriage.

    Last night you’d gone over everything minuscule detail of the conversation with him, and you didn’t think you’d been irrational. You were actually surprised you hadn’t gone bat shit crazy on him. in the four years you’d been married you could remember worse arguments. Yes, you did say a few things with a disrespectful tone, and yes you may have pushed his buttons with some things just because, and yes the comment about kids was a low blow that could have gone unsaid, but besides that, it was a rational, calm discussion. “Fuck,” you mumbled realizing you’d let the kid comment slip and it would lead to an even bigger argument.

    “Ready to get some grub?” Kizzy’s voice snapped you out your thoughts, and you pasted the same smile you’d worn for the last twelve hours.

    “Yeah, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

    “You’re always hungry,” Zora responded. She wasn’t lying. You could always eat. It was one of the reasons Chris said he fell in love with you.

    A few minutes later you were in a car on your way to one of the best restaurants in the area. With one ear you listened to Kizzy and Zo talk about some guy they’d met on set. You put the rest of your attention on social media. You scrolled through Instagram first not looking for anything in particular just a past time from point A to point B. you came across a picture of Chris signing autographs, it was the first in a series. You sideswiped to the ones that followed and knew they were from his current engagement in Toronto. The last picture he was posed by himself, but he wasn’t smiling, his jaw looked tight, and his stance looked tense. It didn’t come across like his usual self. Part of you felt a tinge of guilt that maybe it was because of you, but as soon as it washed over you, it faded.

    The driver announcing your arrival brought you to close the app and slide out the car. You were grateful there were no paparazzi. When you sat down and skimmed the menu, you quickly found what you were going to eat and wasted no time ordering. “Shopping next or beach?”

    “Definitely shopping, we can hit the beach tomorrow and make it an all-day event,” Kizzy responded.

  When your food came, the three of you joked like always. You were relieved that even with everything going on, they hadn’t switched up. You’d lost friends on this road they called fame. Some you’d lost because of your rising star, some you’d lost because of drifting apart, and some you’ve even lost because they thought your husband was a challenge to see who he’d sleep with.

    When you made it back to the penthouse, the sun was setting, and you really didn’t want to be left with your thoughts. So, you suggested a night of fun--fun you desperately needed. The three of you showered and changed. When you were finished you assessed Kizzy’s work in the mirror, she really was the best make up artist around, and she was all yours.

  Pulling up to the club, you could hear the music from the outside and see the long line wrapping around the sidewalk. Everyone knew this was the hottest club in Miami. As the three of you approached the security at the front, you knew when they recognized you. The two burly men nodded to you as they opened the door for you. Once inside the music became even louder. You looped arms with Kizzy and Zo and walked through the red-tinted corridor. At the end, you were met by one of the girls who worked there, she was dressed in a short, tight white dress and held a bottle in one of her hands. The closer you got you made out her face, she was pretty.

    “Mrs. Evans,” she began. Raising your hand to stop her before she continued you corrected her.

    “Uriah is fine.” She smiled, then held out the bottle she carried. Taking it, you read it — Ace of Spades, the good stuff.

    “Tino, the owner, wanted you to know how glad he is that you’re in the house.” You didn’t know how he knew you were in the house, you literally just walked in. “Follow me; I’ll take you to VIP.” You nodded and followed behind her as she took a path that was close to all the other patrons but not close enough where they could grab you. Some recognized you as you passed and called your name. You smiled and waved while forcing the awkward feeling down. This was never something you’d gotten used to. You never got the draw of being fascinated with celebs. The fact Chris was a celebrity was one of the reasons you ignored the hell out of him and disappeared from the street festival you’d met at.

    When you got to VIP the three of you situated and popped open the bottle, the first round you guzzled, as you did the second. By the time you were on your third glass, you were standing up dancing to the music and beginning to have a good time. With every Nikki Minaj song, and Drake anthem and Reggae bop that came on you drank more and more and twerked your ass faster and faster. By the time Beyonce came on, you were sure you mouth every lyric of “Don’t Hurt Yourself,” a special request by Zo. All of your problems drifted, and the only thing you cared about was what your next drink was going to be, tequila, bourbon, vodka, or maybe something that really fucked someone up; rum.

    By the time you staggered out the club, the paps were there to snap your less than ladylike exit. You knew you’d had too much to drink and there they were to catch all of your disgracefulness. They shouted questions, none of which you clearly heard. As you, Kizzy and Zo shuffled into the waiting car you did make out one question “What do you think Chris will say about your party girl days coming back and you not wearing your wedding ring?” Groaning you dropped your head back on the headrest, you knew he’d hate it.

    The next day was torture. It was a day you remembered why you’d slowed down on your party days when you got married. You were hungover. What’s more, you got text messages from your team showing headlines of you across many internet blogs. Somehow they’d gotten pictures of you and your friends in VIP drinking, laughing and dancing. There were even pictures of your brief conversation with the owner; Tino. The pics looked suggestive, but the attention was purely one-sided—his side. Then to top it off they got picture of you exiting the club and close-ups of your hand sans wedding ring.

    There were so many comments and people who wanted to have their piece of the conversation. Much of it was from your fans and supporters agreeing with your actions. Comments ranged from women who were saying you should live your best life and teach Chris a lesson, to offering to put “the homewrecker”  in her place, and even those telling you to go off and do some straight-up messed up shit. There were even comments from men saying you were acting like an immature girl trying to one-up Chris. Some were saying you should respect your husband and work it out between each other and not over social media. There were even a few who went above and beyond to say you deserved this treatment because you went out without your wedding ring which shows the woman you are. It was all overwhelming.  

    Your team wanted you to do damage control and release a statement that explained you going wedding ring free and appease the masses by assuring your marriage was fine. You felt that was bullshit. Why should you have to explain shit? You actually did nothing wrong. So, you told your team to back off and let the chips fall where they may. While you lied down you began to wonder if he’d seen any of the headlines, or if he was pissed or if he cared at all. You hadn’t gone out with the intent to get back at him you just wanted to cut loose and forget some things. You knew to him it would look like one of your subliminal messages. He hated your sometimes passive aggressive messages. You tried to work on it, but sometimes you did revert.

    Your head was killing you, so you spent the majority of the daylight hours in bed nursing it. The only thing you could do was watch TV and wish you felt better. It was brutal, something you’d forgotten about. As you laid in the bed feeling absolutely sick to your stomach, you began to miss him. You missed him a lot. You usually would talk several times a day and text all throughout. He would tell you all about his day, and you’d do the same. Usually every night you were separated it ended with Facetime sex. It was one of the personal vows you’d made to each other on your wedding night when you had a second more private vow ceremony. It had been two nights now that hadn’t happened, two days you hadn’t talked or texted, and you hated it.

    You were so close to caving in and calling him, so close to just giving in to your feelings but every time your finger hovered over the green phone button you hesitated. You wanted to hear his voice more than almost anything, but you also knew you weren’t wrong for thinking what you did or feeling like your husband was being a dick about it. When you remembered all of that, you tossed the phone away and tried to get some sleep.

    When you awoke, it was night, and Kizzy busted in the room squealing. “Oh god Kiz, the volume.” She jumped on the bed sending everything on it flying into the air before it dropped back down. You had no idea why she was so chipper. She drank even more than you or did you drink the most. You couldn’t remember exactly. “Guess who got an invite to the white party tonight!” smiling and jutted her thumbs to herself with a self-satisfying grin across her face. “Zo and I went for a swim in the rooftop pool on the other side of the hotel and bumped into Christina White, oh my god she is so beautiful. Anyway she recognized me, can you believe that Riah? Then we got to talking, a few glasses of champagne and a couple dozen compliments later she invites me to the party tonight. The hottest party and we got an invite.”

    You didn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her you’d already been invited and had opted to stay in bed for the night. Instead, you smiled. “Of course, she invited you, and of course she recognized you. You’re the hottest makeup artist in the game Kiz. It’s long overdue they started to put some respect on your name, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re too big for me.” She smiled then rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll always give you the best rate.” You laughed together as Zo dropped herself on the bed as well.

    “So, we’re going right. How can we pass on The White Party, come on?” Zo’s voice was pleading. You’d been invited for the last eight years and for the last four years you passed. The last one, you and Chris, planned to go together but something came up with work for the both of you, so it never happened. You took up your phone and checked your messages. There were more messages from your team, some from you mom no doubt having seen and heard all the hoopla and wanting to check to see if her favorite son in law was being treated well. The only name evidently missing was Chris’. He still had yet to call or text. It hurt yes, but it also made you angry all over again.

    “Of course, White Party here we come.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  After staring at your rings on the dresser top for almost twenty minutes, you decided to leave them there. Your fingers looked bare; you almost didn’t recognize your hand. You’d gotten so used to the accessories that you felt strange not wearing them. Brushing the feelings to the side you set out for the exclusive White Party that was hosted by none other than the White siblings.

    Christina and Christiano White were affluent royalty. They weren’t actually royalty, but they were set for life like them. They were the twins of billionaire Randy White and his third wife ex-beauty queen Mariposa De La Verde Cruz-White. Randy was so rich he made old money seem like lunch money. Instead of keeping up with the Jones’ a lot of people tried to keep up with the Whites, you weren’t one of those people though.

  When you made it to the Versace mansion where the party was being held, your jaw dropped at the outlandish display of opulence. It was like Mardi Gras, Carnival, and Crop Over all mixed in one with bling bling everywhere. “How rich are these people again,” Zo whispered to you. “So rich, they could give every American a salary of twenty grand a year.” You’d read that in some tabloid magazine. The three of you walked down the white carpet and smiled for photographers. You made sure not to stop for any questions. You knew everything they were going to ask.

    After slipping inside the three of you got a much needed drink, you decided to go slow tonight. You didn’t want to fly with a hangover tomorrow. Scanning the room, you saw most of the big names in the entertainment and fashion industry. They all were dressed to the nines in their sexiest white outfits and no doubt trying to one up each other in some way. Sipping your drink in your own sexy outfit, you and your friends gossiped about everyone’s outfits, the thirsty women there trying desperately to snag some hot star for the night and even the décor. Zo and Kizzy pointed out some cute ones they wouldn’t mind getting close to. You gave the go ahead to go shoot their shots knowing they wouldn’t voluntarily leave you.

      You watched from across the room as they each flirted and no doubt dazzled the two guys, you knew them as Aaron Blake and Quentin Porter. They were cute but not your type. You made your way back to the bar for another drink. “The beautiful lady will have a glass of Armand de Brignac Champagne, make it rose̒.” You looked to your right and saw none other than Christiano White. You smiled, then shook your head. “Still your drink of choice, right?” He leaned on the bar and smiled at you. He was still very handsome.

    “Eh, everyone seems to think so. It’s the one thing I always get sent.” Laughing he sipped his own drink, it was probably Vodka, he sure loved him so Vodka, or he did four years ago. “How are you little Dove?” you took up the glass placed before you and drank half of it down before answering him.

    “All right. How are you?” Christiano nodded his head, then finished his glass. “Better now. Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

    “I got invited.”

    “You’ve always been invited. You stopped coming when you decided that I wasn’t good enough to be around anymore.” You could hear the disdain in his voice. Here we go, you thought. You finished the glass and raised your finger to the bartender to request another.

    “I never said you weren’t good enough. Those words never came out of my mouth.” Christiano nodded, but he didn’t look like he agreed.

  Christiano looked around again before he looked back to you. “Sure seemed like it. What exactly was it you said then, a month before you married some actor who looks like the carbon copy of me? what was the point of that?” You rolled your eyes, not wanting to get into this.

    “He doesn’t look like you Chris,” you clarified, using the nickname everyone called him. he scoffed hearing it. “Isn’t that his name too? Sounds like a carbon copy. Miss me, little dove?” You looked over him. He was in a white linen shirt and white board shorts. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down showing his toned chest and abs. Christiano wasn’t an ugly guy, in fact he was hot as hell, hot enough for you to have had an on and off two-year relationship.

    “I recognize that look in your eyes.” He stepped closer. Before the space was respectable of your marital situation, now it was personal, intimate. He lifted his hand and moved it toward your jaw. Before he made contact you slid back a little. “Come on Christiano, play nice.” You gave him your sweetest smile, a smile he couldn’t help but return. “Are you enjoying yourself little dove?” Looking back to your glass you nodded.

    “You always did know how to throw a party.” Before you could register it, Christiano leaned to your ear and whispered. “We could be throwing these together, as Mr. and Mrs. White.” He slowly pulled back, and your eyes met. Once upon a time you had thought about marrying him. You didn’t know Chris then, and things were good. Clearing your throat and breaking the eye contact you looked down to your exposed thigh.

  “I’m already a Mrs.” Christiano scoffed and nodded.

    “Are you sure, little dove? I’ve seen the tabloids. Trouble in paradise?” You clenched your jaw and fought off the urge to roll your eyes. “Low blow?”

    “You know anything you say could never hurt me, Chris.” He laughed and leaned closer. “That’s right; you’re bulletproof, no shots fired could ever touch you.” You’d told him that years ago and meant it. You were still the same woman, but you’d never tell him you weren’t entirely bulletproof anymore.

    “You don’t deserve that, Riah, you know that right.” You shrugged off any emotion and looked at him. “You’re still as sweet as ever.” You placed a chaste kiss to his cheek and turned back to the bar and finished the champagne.

    “Come on, say hello to everyone.” He took your hand and led you through the mansion and before you knew it, you were surrounded by your old crowd, some new and some you’d seen plenty of times over the years. Everyone greeted you with hugs, cheers and a lot of vodka. It was like old times. The music cranked, and your friends joined you.

    The rest of the night passed with drinks, laughs, and dances. You danced with Zo and Kizzy and with Christina and in a circle with other girls. You could feel Christiano’s eyes on you the entire night, and you knew it was wrong, but you didn’t mind it. You’d never take it anywhere in a million years, you’d said your vows, and you meant that shit with everything in you. That didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun and remind Chris that he isn’t the only hot piece of ass that people want to get on top or under. Close to two in the morning you felt bold enough to give Christiano a dance, you kept it clean, but his hands roamed as they always did. Every time they traveled anywhere but your waist, you were quick to wag your finger at him. He always laughed it off. Christiano always thought everyone was fair game. Maybe you being there was giving him those vibes. You were far from fair game.

    When the sun was coming up was when you made your way out the hidden entrance of the mansion. Christiano tried to convince you to stay with him in one of the rooms, but you heavily declined. There was no way you’d do that. When he finally got it he made sure one of his drivers were on hand to get you back to your hotel. Christiano opened the door, Kizzy, and Zo slid in the car talking amongst themselves about nothing, they were drunk as hell. You turned to Christiano and nearly lost your balance. His hand slid around you, pulled you close and held you up. Your eyes met his hazel ones, and you shared a moment—a literal moment. You found your balance and pulled away. “Thanks.” He smiled and nodded. “Don’t be a stranger little dove. My doors are always open for you.” You snorted.

    "Which doors exactly LA, Miami, Greece, Virgin Islands, Bahamas, Mexico, Brazil--.” Christiano cut you off with a roll of his eyes. “You missed quite a few, but all of them. Anytime.” You knew just what he meant. He wanted you to leave Chris and go back to him. “Uh-huh.” You slid in the car as Christiano shut the door. He waved to you while biting his bottom lip. Another lifetime maybe. In this one your heart belonged to one man. As the car drove off you began to wonder if he even deserved it anymore. You closed your eyes, sighed and decided that tomorrow you’d worry about your problems.

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