#marjorie lancaster

[intotheroaringverse]

Notas: Essa história contém referências a outras obras como O Diabo Veste Prada, Garota Infernal, As Virgens Suicidas, além, é claro, de referências ao ato Female Rage da The Eras Tour de Taylor Swift. Então tem doses de crimes espalhados por todo o texto e, em resumo: nem todo mundo é ruim, nem todo mundo é bom, mas todos são muito humanos.

O roupão leve e transparente rodeava os seus tornozelos conforme descia as escadarias da casa, a expressão no seu rosto como se estivesse completamente chocada com a informação que recebeu. Os cabelos loiros ainda estavam em rolinhos, mesmo que a maquiagem já estivesse acabada e o leve aroma do seu perfume a acompanhasse a cada passo que ela dava em direção aos membros da MACUSA que lhe aguardavam no hall da Lancaster Manor, trazendo a ela a notícia que prometeria mudar as suas estruturas.

— O que os senhores querem dizer com Benjamin foi encontrado morto? — questionou, colocando a mão sobre o peito, uma única lágrima escorrendo por sua bochecha.

A sua posição no The New York Ghost era a de editora-chefe. Literalmente nada passava para a versão final do jornal sem que ela desse o aval, além de cobrir os grandes eventos como as eleições da MACUSA ou momentos mais intensos como catástrofes pontuais. Ninguém era mais poderoso no meio editorial do que Marjorie Elizabeth Lancaster, ao menos não naquele país. O que ela tinha feito de contatos e ligações durante seus anos subindo ao seu posto justificava o seu nome embaixo de qualquer notícia realmente importante. Ela era a figura que jovens sonhavam em trabalhar junto com ela no futuro.

— Marigold, onde está meu kombucha? — perguntou em voz monótona, revirando lentamente o papiro que tinha recebido de seu correspondente internacional, sem dirigir o mínimo de atenção para a sua estagiária número 1.

— Eu já vou providenciar, Marjorie, eu só estava-

— Não, não, estou ouvindo isso aqui — e fez um gesto com a mão aberta. — e eu só quero ouvir isso aqui. — a mão se fechou, antes que ela olhasse para a garota com a expressão blasé. — Menos desculpas, mais soluções.

— Certo, Marjorie. Eu estou indo resolver.

A mulher continuou na sua demanda matinal, lendo todos os relatórios ao redor do mundo, escolhendo cuidadosamente o que deveria ou não ser parte da primeira página. A situação dos bruxos no Egito parecia bastante conturbada, ela sabia que aquilo era e sempre seria um barril de pólvora, mas naquela manhã sua mente ainda estava um pouco nublada com seus problemas pessoais para conseguir focar no trabalho.

— Simon — chamou em um tom de voz que nem mesmo saía do seu escritório, mas seu segundo estagiário apareceu na porta quase que de imediato. — Evangeline estava tendo sérios problemas de adaptação na pré-escola de Ilvermorny. Um pesadelo atrás do outro naquela escola terrível.

— Eu imagino… — o mais alto murmurou, a fazendo arquear uma sobrancelha por ele ousar em interrompê-la. O garoto se calou de imediato.

— Preciso que entregue para ela o elefantinho favorito dela, antes do anoitecer — afirmou, ao que ele concordou com a cabeça.

— Claro, Marjorie, eu irei acionar a melhor coruja do nosso correio- — e mais uma vez ele se calou mediante ao olhar da mulher mais velha.

— Você acha que vou deixar qualquer animal carregar por aí um objeto pessoal de extremo valor para a minha filha? — o tom de ofensa na voz de Lancaster fez Simon se encolher, perceptivelmente. — Não, eu não permitiria que um extravio acontecesse. Você vai levar pessoalmente em Ilvermorny para ela.

— Mas… Marjorie, nós temos o fechamento da pauta até às quatro da tarde — ele lhe lembrou, parecendo ansioso. — E Ilvermorny fica em Massachusetts.

— Sim, e você é um bruxo que utiliza aparatação e sabe bem as horas. Vá e esteja aqui para a reunião final da pauta, você e Marigold — afirmou, antes de voltar a ler o texto em suas mãos. — É só isso, Simon.

A megera indomável. A vadia arrogante. A bruxa. Marjorie amava aqueles apelidos, podia ouvi-los pelos corredores toda vez que saía de seu escritório para fazer algo em outro departamento do jornal. Aquela que destruía corações de homens pelo mais puro entretenimento no jantar e pisava em todos os seus funcionários pela manhã. Ela tinha trinta anos e já era a editora-chefe do maior jornal dos Estados Unidos, ela não tinha realmente que temer nenhum daqueles comentários maldosos. Apertou as mãos de vários chefes de estado, é convidada cativa dos bailes de gala da VOGUE bruxa nos últimos cinco anos, recebeu prêmios internacionais por seu trabalho impecável e cobriu a última eleição para Líder Supremo da International Confederation of Wizards. E daí que chamavam ela de vadia? Se ela fosse um homem, ela seria vista como uma pessoa que comete sacrifícios pessoais em nome de seu trabalho e que exige o mesmo comportamento de seus funcionários, especialmente os que almejam o mesmo sucesso na carreira que ela. Mas Marjorie era uma mulher, e por isso as palavras sempre eram miradas para ela com uma outra camada de ódio.

As mãos estavam dentro do casaco e tinha o lábio levemente torcido enquanto encontrava estagiários não fazendo nada pelos cantos, se satisfazendo silenciosamente como eles corriam nem que fossem para limpar as penas de repetição rápida. Seus passos não vacilavam até abrir a porta da sala de reuniões e encontrar Castor Moon sentado onde ela deveria estar em alguns minutos.

— Você deveria me ligar e não só aparecer aqui — falou naquele tom de voz frio que usava com todo mundo, mas Moon não pareceu nem um pouco intimidado.

— Tenho algo que você vai gostar — comentou, olhando para ela com uma expressão desafiadora.

— Eu duvido muito — Marjorie respondeu, jogando sua bolsa e casaco em um canto, antes de cruzar os braços e encará-lo. — e você está no meu lugar.

— Fomos acionados para verificar uma atividade estranha na Miss Robichaux’s Academy — ele continuou a falar, sem nem mesmo piscar. — Aconteceu algum crime ali.

— E isso me interessa por que? — perguntou, com um ar crítico.

— Porque é sua antiga escola e sei que removeu sua filha de lá e a enviou para Ilvermorny recentemente — Castor cruzou os dedos em frente ao corpo, relaxado enquanto a confrontava. — Essa investigação tem seu nome, querendo ou não.

Sua postura congelou por alguns segundos, como se ela não estivesse esperando que o investigador tivesse tido acesso àquela informação, o que era fato. Então relaxou, erguendo o queixo e se mostrando mais uma vez assustadora.

— Foi apenas uma coincidência — Lancaster alegou, ao passo que Moon balançou a cabeça.

— É o que nós vamos descobrir, Marjorie.

A reunião de pauta transcorria como todas as outras, com cada coluna do jornal apresentando o que eles pretendiam publicar naquela edição. Marjorie ouvia tudo impassível, apertando os olhos quando estava interessada e torcendo os lábios quando detestava a proposta. Seus estagiários entraram na conversa por último, tanto Marigold Kang quanto Simon Osaki tremendo em seus lugares, tensos com o que eles tinham a dizer.

— Então, nós… hm. Nós recebemos a informação de que um acidente ocorreu na escola só para meninos bruxos em New Orleans… — Marigold começou, mas Marjorie agitou a mão.

— Cancelem — ela falou, cortante antes mesmo da garota terminar de falar.

— Eu sei que nós dois estamos responsáveis pela coluna de entretenimento, mas… — Marigold começou a dizer, antes que Simon insistisse: — Nós conversamos com algumas fontes e parece promissor.

— Ah, deve ser mesmo — Lancaster falou, em um tom levemente desdenhoso. — Mas vocês irão cancelar essa pauta. Estou dando outras a vocês.

Kang obviamente estava prestes a brigar pela sua notícia, mas Simon segurou seu pulso, como se a estivesse a alertando do que custaria bater de frente com a mais velha.

— Obrigado, Marjorie, pela consideração — ele falou, no tom de voz mais controlado possível. — E do que se trataria?

— Vocês vão pessoalmente cobrir um assassinato no colégio Miss Robichaux’s Academy.

— Um assassinato? — Marigold automaticamente arregalou seus olhos e a encarou surpresa.

— Ou algo do tipo — Marjorie respondeu, piscando lentamente, antes de se voltar para seu próximo problema e seguir com a reunião.

O seu primeiro marido era um peso morto e ela sabia disso. Clyde Barker tinha entrado em sua vida depois de um milhão de finais infelizes, e alguns até mesmo trágicos, e depois de horas e dias de promessas, a única coisa que ele lhe deu de bom foi a filha deles dois. Como se não bastassem todos os próprios pesadelos, agora ela tinha medo por mais alguém no mundo. Nunca cogitou não ser mãe daquela garotinha em todos os últimos cinco anos, quase seis, mas se lembrava muito bem como ficou desalentada ao perceber que estaria realizando o sonho de um homem que não estava de corpo presente nem mesmo para ela, muito menos estaria para aquela criança. Foi quando ela decidiu colocar um ponto final entre eles, sem pensar duas vezes, a barriga de grávida visível durante todo o processo de mudança daquela casa no interior para a mansão que adquiriu e onde criaria aquela menina sob sua proteção e regras. Mas nunca houveram dúvidas de que ela de fato amava Evangeline; amava ao ponto de que poderia matar por ela em um piscar de olhos.

— Eu sinto muito lhe dar essa notícia, senhora — um jovem muito alto e forte bateu em seu ombro de forma desajeitada, recebendo o olhar frio da mulher em seguida. — Quer dizer, meu parceiro aqui e eu fomos acionados para investigar uma perturbação e acabamos nos deparando com mais do que esperávamos.

— Senhor Yoon, como tem certeza de que é meu marido? Benjamin está viajando a trabalho — afirmou, passando toda a confiança que sentia naquelas palavras.

Peter Yoon sorriu para ela de forma dolorosa, como se já tivesse assistido aquele tipo de resistência mais de uma vez.

— A documentação do senhor Benjamin Järverläinen estava enterrada algumas quadras de onde encontramos o corpo, senhora Lancaster — ele explicou, a assistindo abraçar a si mesma.

— Enterrado? Enterraram o corpo de Benjamin? Com ele… — não ousou completar a frase.

Em sua mente, flashes pipocavam. O momento em que os dois se conheceram, ele sendo um investigador particular de um milionário e ela cobrindo um escândalo no time de quodpot do Texas. O momento em que o islandês a convidou para sair depois do expediente, na mesma noite em que ele a fodeu de forma deliciosa e selvagem no campo de treinamento texano quando deveriam estar entrevistando os suspeitos do caso. A expressão no rosto dele quando conheceu Evangeline, com ainda três anos e meio. O casamento apressado quando ele iria perder o visto dele nos Estados Unidos. A primeira vez que ela o viu dar em cima de sua vizinha, mesmo ela sendo casada também. A vez em que ele deu um tapa em seu rosto porque ela ousou falar que ele só não tinha conseguido lhe trair porque Alexandria Welch tinha se mudado do bairro. A raiva crescente que ele tinha a cada vez que ela falava que não iria abandonar seu trabalho como editora-chefe porque ele se sentia ameaçado e menor ao lado dela. O discurso robótico de Benjamin quando ele tentou se defender sobre ter esquecido Evangeline sozinha até altas horas da madrugada em um parquinho. Um milhão de agressões verbais, um milhão de tapas, um milhão de sexos duvidosos e que ela não queria ter participado, um milhão de puxões de cabelo. E a sua própria imagem, descabelada e com sangue no rosto.

— O seu marido… ele foi esquartejado — explicou um outro rapaz, bem menor, até mesmo que ela, de óculos e cabelos ondulados, arrepiados de tanto esfregar os dedos nele.

— Zee… — Peter tentou intervir, mas o mais jovem prosseguiu.

— A senhora deveria saber, tendo em vista que seu marido investigava casos perigosos e era contratado por pessoas também perigosas, que talvez você e a filha de vocês estejam em perigo agora — o rapaz explicou, se surpreendendo com a resposta rápida de Marjorie.

— Minha filha, Evangeline. É só minha filha.

— Certo, sua filha e a senhora podem estar nesse momento sendo vigiadas. Ela está na escola agora?

— Ela é parte da pré-escola da Miss Robichaux’s Academy — alegou, os olhos brilhando com lágrimas que nunca realmente caíam.

— Sugerimos que a senhora a mude de escola… O corpo do seu marido foi encontrado justamente na Louisiana. É onde a escola fica, não é?

Marjorie engoliu em seco, balançando a cabeça, abraçando a si mesma.

— Olha… Nós temos uma relação muito boa com Ilvermorny. Posso pedir para que agilizem uma transferência de último minuto para a senhora, enquanto lida com… Bem, com o funeral — explicou Peter, claramente tentando ajudar.

Marjorie balançou a cabeça, concordando. Ela concordou com tudo em silêncio até o final dos procedimentos de praxe, garantindo a eles que iria se cercar de segurança pelos próximos dias e que iria colocar Evangeline sob a vigilância da maior escola do país. Agradeceu aos aurores e então enviou uma carta para a redação, explicando brevemente sua ausência, dando ordens aos seus serviçais para preparar a casa para o período de luto de acordo com a tradição. Somente quando estava de fato sozinha foi que se virou para o quadro acima de sua lareira, o rosto de Clyde Barker pintado à perfeição, localizado exatamente acima de uma urna funerária.

— Você terá companhia em breve, bastardo idiota — avisou ao quadro, ignorando a expressão de ofensa do primeiro falecido marido.

Se livrar de maridos abusadores não era difícil. Se livrar dos corpos deles, entretanto…

[thejazzera]

Ilustração, No. 110, July 16, 1930

Models advertise Sheffield's Cuttlery, during the British Industries' Empire Ball, in the Albert Hall, London, organized by the British Legion.

From left to right: Lucy Feord, Marjorie Lancaster, Victoria Yates, Marjorie Heal and Gladys Godwin.

[mumbojumbo84317]

Happy Birthday to beautiful, Sarah Lancaster (@sarahmlancaster). Known for her long-running roles as Rachel Meyers in the NBC series Saved by the Bell: The New Class and Ellie Bartowski in the NBC comedy-spy series Chuck, as well as playing Chloe Grefe in Lovers Lane, Madison Kellner on The WB's Everwood, and Marjorie in ABC's TV series What About Brian.

Photo Credits (Counterclockwise from top left):

1. Brie Childers/Contour by Getty Images

2. Denise Truscello/WireImage

3. Russell Baer/Contour by Getty Images

[thebrightdarksideofthemoon]

ANIVERSÁRIO COLETIVO DOS SAGITARIANOS DO DIA 17/12

Mimi: Okay, eu queria saber... Afinal, qual o nome dessa empresa?

Ross: Não tem. Abriram mão. É alguma coisa relacionada a caveiras dançando e a lua, e as estrelas e muito preto e branco.

Robb: ENTÃO A GENTE MORREU?

Roxie: Meu Deus, cara, as ideias...

Rose: Seu contraparte, minha filha, problema seu.

Selina: Eu acho que agora é algo muito mais hipotético. Quero dizer, como batizar um lugar com tantas subdivisões? Vocês já viram a quantidade de negos que tá vindo ali da empresa falida?

Mimi: Bom, eu vim de uma empresa falida, antes...

Roxie: Amada, você made the way. Aquele velho ditado, andou pra que todos nós corrêssemos.

Valkyrie: COM TOCHAS!

Thor: E FOGOS!

Robb: Ninguém chamou a pirralhada, fora, fora. Aqui é pra quem divide a data com a CEO, não todos os sagitarianos desse lugar.

Rose: Okay, a gente devia organizar isso aqui e... Sabe, apagar as velas.

Ross: Sim, é o nosso objetivo aqui.

Selina: Acho que deveríamos, sabe, cantar parabéns logo, porque né, sabemos como todos nós somos com coisas pegando fogo.

Mimi: Ninguém vai queimar essa sede, okay? A gente vai fazer como deve ser feito.

Rose: Concordo. Então... Como começamos?

Mimi: Acho que podemos ir em ordem decrescente? Parece ritualístico.

Selina: Sendo assim... Eu gostaria de celebrar mais um ano na empresa em que eu não sofri. Talvez porque eu seja meio Puckerman e meio Duval e essas são duas famílias sem karmas pesados, mas eu me sinto grata que sobrevivi a mais um ano sem nada além de liberdade. E descobrir que eu quero continuar sendo livre. E tocar para as pessoas. Futuro como DJ do baile me espera! É isso. É sobre isso.

Rose: Acho que esse ano eu celebro a existência dos meus amigos, que vieram como presente de aniversário ano passado. Por serem pau pra toda obra, principalmente. Agradeço também por mais um ano em que eu não vi um bem-te-vi na minha janela avisando que vem neném. Por ser liberada pra beijar o Leo, mesmo que tenha acontecido muito na nossa cabeça. Por ter me divertido como nunca nas festas a que pude comparecer. E também por não ter visto uma rampinha sequer.

Ross: O que eu comemoro esse ano...? Acho que nunca precisar pagar uma pensão na vida. Sigo sendo o tio que desvirtua e isso pra mim é a melhor parte. Agradeço por ter sobrevivido ao TomorrowAlex e por ter podido comemorar com um prêmio daquele dia. Agradeço pelas risadas no dia do Blackout, pelo meu squad que tá comigo e não fecha e por ter sobrevivido ao Robb durante a quarentena, porque todo mundo sabe que não foi fácil.

Roxie: Okay, vamos lá... Isso vai ser estranho, mas obrigada a MadCity que me apresentou meu quarto bebê. Eu sei que a cada criança que nasce, os neurônios na minha prole diminuem, mas eu sou muito grata e feliz por eles. Também sou grata e feliz pela existência do meu Takashi, e todos os deuses sabe que eu iria pra Valhalla de tanto que morreria lutando por ele. Posso comemorar que graças a minha insistência, não vem mais aí trauma nenhum na vida dele. E se tratando da asian line, foi um mérito e tanto. Ah, e também sou grata por poder ir a festa de casamento de uma das minhas melhores amigas. Cada minuto do meu PT valeu a pena!

Robb: Esse ano eu comemoro mais uma porrada de dia maluco com as melhores pessoas da minha vida, meus outros irmãos, o college raiz. Comemoro o nascimento oficial do meu dragãozinho. Comemoro também não sofrer mais e saber que meus filhos mais velhos se libertaram do karma pesado que era sentir que eram os filhos rejeitados. Também sou grato no dia de hoje que Akemi e eu temos uma data limite, e que mesmo que ela vá para a overwhelmed, ainda somos os maiores soulmates da company interna e não abro mão de dizer isso. Sou grato porque eu me diverti pra cacete, mesmo nos bastidores, mesmo em collab. E que me formei, e mesmo assim vejo um potencial enorme do legado do college que eu comecei sendo carregado por gente tão doida quanto eu.

Mimi: Então... Esse ano foi maluco, né? Eu não sou mais bruxa. O que é okay, porque eu não vim ao mundo bruxa; eu virei vampira no caminho, e então humana, então morri e depois virei bruxa. Agora eu sou a mãe das minhas três meninas, solo, com muito orgulho de tê-las criado sozinha e sem interferências malignas. Acho que sou grata a poder existir agora de um jeito que eu me sinta confortável. Eu tenho um match que aprovo. Eu tenho a minha saúde mental em dia. E eu consegui a aprovação da abertura dos portões.

Roxie: ENTÃO FOI VOCÊ?

Marjorie: Sabe... É meio que lógico, afinal eu e ela dividimos a cela, digo, a ala da empresa, somos as almas que vieram dos tempos de fake aberto e tal...

Mimi: Você sabe... Você tem direito a falar algumas palavras. Sabemos que você diz na trama que nasceu em 1 de dezembro, mas que sempre foi 17, só mudou pra não ser pega no pulo.

Marjorie: Okay. Acho que quero agradecer algumas coisinhas. Quero agradecer ter saído das cinzas. Estava escondida depois da queda daquele lugar obscuro, e poder voltar à ativa justamente durante o carnaval, numa época agitada e tida como livre... Acho que fez sentido com a minha trajetória e a da empresa. É bom estar de volta. É bom respirar e caminhar com as minhas próprias pernas. Sou grata pelas coisas que pude viver, até mesmo essa coisa maluca de me misturar um tico com o sobrenatural. Eu sou grata por ter uma nova história, mesmo que algumas coisas ainda me façam perguntar “Mas como?”. Mas gosto. Me sinto feliz, e é bom tomar conta da mesa do controle e ser uma alma que lidera as outras do lado de lá. Então acho que a tudo isso, eu quero celebrar.

Mimi: Então... As velas. Oito. Porque 17, a soma é 1+7. Então 8. Numerologia, sabe, é uma das superstições que movem essa empresa.

Selina: Mas... Nós somos 7.

Robb: Somos?

Rose: Claro que somos. Eu, você, Roxie, Ross, Selina, Mimi e agora a Marjorie.

Roxie: Então... Quem é a oitava vela?

Mimi: Ela costumava ser uma leonina. Mas ela concordou que a sua atual vontade de trazer o caos não combinava com o signo da glória.

Marjorie: Ela quer sangue.

Sydney: Ela tem direito a querer sangue.

Hazel: No lugar dela, eu também iria querer.

Ross: Vocês não são as garotas do dia 31/07? Ainda falta muito tempo pro palco de vocês, sabiam?

Hazel: Nós não viemos dar palco, coisinha.

Sydney: Nós viemos entregá-la a vocês.

Mimi: A nossa oitava parceira. Feliz primeiro aniversário coletivo, Charlotte Atwood.

Charlotte: É um prazer estar aqui. E é um prazer poder contar minha história. E... Poder entregar todos os desfechos que ficaram do lado de lá.

Sydney e Hazel: Faça seu caminho!

Charlotte: Eu irei. Eu vou pegar de volta aquela coroa. 

Mimi: Então... Agora que estamos todos aqui... Feliz aniversário, sagitarianos. Por mais um ciclo de reviravoltas e aprendizados. Por mais dias de gritaria, que é o que nos move, e adrenalina, que é o que nos alimenta. E que fechemos nossos ciclos, sejam eles quais forem.

Em nome da coalisão Roaring, Dourados e Reinventados, feliz aniversário aos 8 cavaleiros do apocalipse que representam essa empresa.

[bananaofswifts]

By Brodie Lancaster Taylor Swift
Evermore (Republic)
★★★★★ Taylor Swift does her best work when all she has to contend with is herself. It’s an idea that appeared, fully realised, in July when she surprise-released her lockdown album, Folklore. With Evermore – the second chapter and/or sequel and/or companion record she dropped on Friday afternoon – Swift confirms this, inviting us even deeper inside her storybook world. While keeping Folklore’s circle of collaborators close, Swift has expanded the minimal sonic palette they established on Evermore, while sharpening her narrative focus and proving herself a peerless songwriter and storyteller. References to suburban nostalgia abound. On Coney Island, Swift and The National sing of the mall as the early internet: “It was the one place to be”. While on Tis the Damn Season the narrator falls into bed with a childhood friend when they both arrive home for the holidays, recognising in one another the ghosts of a past life. It’s a temporary arrangement, one that ends when she returns “to LA and the so-called friends”, but the feeling it evokes – that the only people who could really know someone as famous as Swift are the ones who knew her before she found fame – is powerful. It’s a thread Swift picks up and runs with on Dorothea. A masterwork of a character study, it sees the roles reversed and Swift singing as the friend left behind, the one seeing the shiny face of a school pal on TV. “You'rе a queen sellin’ dreams, sellin’ makeup in magazines … from you I’d buy anything,” Swift sings. For her long history of writing break-up songs and anthems for scorned lovers, some of the most powerful and painful loves lost are the ones between old friends and Swift captures them knowingly on Evermore. Swift may have broken her usual routine for releasing records this year, but she’s no less obsessed with patterns and themes. On Folklore, track 13 (her favourite number) was told from the perspective of her grandfather. Here the same track number, Marjorie, is named for her late grandmother, an opera singer who’s credited with backing vocals and who had “closets of backlogged dreams” she left to her granddaughter. When Evermore was announced, just a day before it was released, some speculated about a significant change in Swift’s life the record might respond to. Had she broken up with her boyfriend, actor Joe Alwyn? Had they got engaged or secretly married? The record reveals something more significant though: Swift’s ability to assume a character, write it until it’s entirely wrung dry, and move on to her next method role while keeping herself entirely intact. On Champagne Problems she’s the messy, difficult girlfriend whose life interferes with her potential romantic future, while on No Body, No Crime, Swift and the Haim sisters stomp through a saloon-style remake of Chicago’s He Had it Comin’ as they tell of a mad woman who covers up the murder of her cheating husband. Over synthesised drum patters on the penultimate track Closure, Swift refuses to offer any of it to satisfy an ex’s self-serving request. The characters and their internal struggles on Evermore are beautifully rendered, with gaps in their stories left to be fleshed out or disappear to time entirely. “I come back stronger than a ‘90s trend,” Swift sings on the album opener Willow. After this year, nothing has ever been more true.

[byneddiedingo]

Separate Tables (Delbert Mann, 1958)

Cast: Deborah Kerr, Rita Hayworth, David Niven, Wendy Hiller, Burt Lancaster, Gladys Cooper, Cathleen Nesbitt, Felix Aylmer, Rod Taylor, Audrey Dalton, May Hallatt, Priscilla Morgan. Screenplay: Terence Rattigan, John Gay, based on plays by Terence Rattigan. Cinematography: Charles Lang. Production design: Harry Horner. Film editing: Charles Ennis, Marjorie Fowler. Music: David Raksin. This somewhat stodgy drama set in a residential hotel in England received seven Academy Award nominations, including best picture, and David Niven and Wendy Hiller actually won for best actor and supporting actress. Unfortunately, today it seems tired and rather clichéd, with Gladys Cooper reprising her smothering mother role from Now, Voyager (Irving Rapper, 1942), this time keeping her thumb on Deborah Kerr (who racked up the fifth of her six unsuccessful Oscar nominations for the film). Burt Lancaster and Rita Hayworth were called in for star power, but only seem miscast as the squabbling divorced couple. Niven's performance as the faux major whose imposture is exposed when he's arrested for sexual harassment in a theater is indeed the standout in the film, but the Oscar is also a reward for a quarter-century of playing second leads and sidekicks.

[betteroffwithoutyou]

❖  CHARACTER BASICS

FULL NAME  hayden charlotte richardson NICKNAME(S)  hay DATE OF BIRTH  september 03 SEXUALITY  biromantic bisexual

❖  APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM  nicola peltz EYE COLOR  green HAIR COLOR  fair amber blonde PIERCINGS  nose TATTOOS  “the course of true love never did run smooth” on her left rib cage SCARS  n/a

❖  BACKGROUND

NATIONALITY  american HOMETOWN  manhattan, new york city, new york PLACES LIVED  new york city, new york; fairfield, connecticut; lyon, france RELIGION  atheist SPOKEN LANGUAGES  english (fluent, primary), french (fluent), italian (conversational)

❖  EDUCATION AND CAREER

OCCUPATION  assistant editor  SCHOOLING  high school graduate, ENS Paris NOTABLE EXPERIENCE  conde nast intern

❖  ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

TRAITS  distant, closed off, observant ZODIAC SIGN  virgo JUNG’S  estj ENNEAGRAM  type four (the individualist) 4w5 MORAL ALIGNMENT  chaotic neutral HOGWARTS HOUSE  slytherin SIN  lust VIRTUE  diligence

❖  MISCELLANEOUS

CHARACTER TAG

HEADCANONS

RELATIONSHIP CANON

❖  FAMILY

FATHER gregory richardson

there has never been a time in all of hayden’s life when her father looked at her with loving eyes. to him, his oldest of the richardson children was always his one and only. she has only ever gotten an ‘i love you’ from her father a hand-full of times, and each one of those times it sounded rehearsed and far from genuine. this is something that hayden learned to cope with from a young age and now can hardly be bothered to care if her father forgets her birthday.

MOTHER  catelyn richardson (née dilaurentis)

hayden was never particularly close with either of her parents but her mother was slightly more present growing up. for a long time, catelyn tried to mold her into the daughter she had wanted; having failed with Vera. The woman wanted a daughter she could treat more like a barbie doll: control her ever move, who she spoke to, what she wore, and what her social life activities were. This was a no go for her as well though and as soon as hayden stopped playing into the things her mother wanted her to be, she lost interest. since then they are like distant old friends whose only bond is that gregory richardson could fucking care less about what happened to them.

BROTHER  oliver ramsey richardson

where gregory lacked in father skills, oliver made up for it by trying to be there for hayden as much as possible. from a young age he took it upon himself to look after her and be the father figure she needed but it became difficult when hayden started to break away from her family completely. not only that but oliver had his own life outside of their household that kept him busy. for most of hayden’s teenage life her older brother spent most of his time traveling and only came one once or twice a year. they never held anything against each other though, and now try to keep contact more than ever, spending as much time as possible together whenever he’s in europe.

SISTER  vera anastasia richardson

there has never been a real moment of peace between Hayden and her older sister. Vera was always their fathers favorite child — the only one he even had as far as he was concerned from the way he treated oliver and hayden. their father’s love wasn’t something that hayden ever tried to fight vera over but vera never wasted any opportunities in making it known that she was the best, the only worth richardson child in the household. if the two were ever caught being nice towards each other, it was only for appearances, any other time the two girls could barely even be in the same room for more than ten minutes. it wasn’t until vera moved out of the house across the country that the two began to be somewhat tolerant of each other. the distance and all the time they spent without contact was what they needed to go from fighting like cats and dogs to being civil. still, vera any conversation the two have now is filled with passive aggressive comments reminding hayden that she’s the superior one with a more successful life.

❖  EXTENDED FAMILY

BROTHER-IN-LAW  

bennett lancaster

NEPHEW  

harrison lancaster

AUNT  

marjorie dilaurentis-giroud

❖  ROMANCE

PRESTON THORPE (ex-fling)

ship: hr x pt

character bio post

TYLER ROLLINS (ex-boyfriend)

ship: hr x tr

character bio post

❖  FRIENDS & FOES

HARLEY BANCROFT (best friend)

verse: srk

brotp: in omnia paratus

character bio post

GISELLE TYLER (best friend)

verse: srk

brotp: in omnia paratus

character bio post

SANTIAGO CAVALIERI (close friend)

verse: srk

character bio post

XANDER RHODES (close friend)

verse: srk

character bio post

LOGAN HOLLOWAY (acquaintance)

verse: srk

character bio post

WILLA KENNEDY (acquaintance)

verse: srk

character bio post

LACEY HOLLOWAY (acquaintance, dislike)

verse: srk

character bio post

[omfgtrump]

Hollywood Does What Senate Won’t: Gives Don The Boot!

With his impeachment trial beginning and the possibility of conviction a near impossibility, we turn to the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists, Sag-AFTRA, for inspiration and a moral compass.

The union voted “overwhelmingly” to find probable cause that Trump had violated SAG-AFTRA’s constitution in inciting the January 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol and “sustaining a reckless campaign of misinformation aimed at discrediting and ultimately threatening the safety of journalists, many of whom are SAG-AFTRA members.” 

On the other hand, the Republican party, who gave a standing ovation to Q lady, Marjorie Taylor Greene, has already decided that inciting an attack on the U.S. Capitol and to quote Sag-AFTRA, “sustaining a reckless campaign of misinformation aimed at discrediting and ultimately threatening the safety of journalists” as well as the Capitol police, members of Congress and the vice president, does not rise to the level of a conviction and being barred from running for public office again.

https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/juliareinstein/marjorie-taylor-greene-qanon-gun-facebook-squad

In fact, with such overwhelming evidence against him, The Don’s lawyers won’t even try to argue the facts: their defense will be to claim the proceeding itself is constitutionally illegitimate. A defense ready made by the 45 Republican senators who voted to derail the trial before it started.

It will come down to what I call the Sargent Schultz (of Hogan’s Heroes fame) defense: “I see nothing, I know nothing” and for good measure, I am not even here. In other words, regardless of what you witnessed, it doesn’t matter, because there is no basis for a trial. Since the trial shouldn’t exist, you can’t vote to convict because that would be an acknowledgement of the fact that there was a right to have a trial. Feels a bit Kafkaesque.

Once again, we are confronted with the stark reality that the Republican party is willing to risk the very democracy it is charged to defend and abandon all its principles, to pledge its allegiance to The Don.

But not SAG-AFTRA

The Don, true to form, seeing the handwriting on the wall, beat them to the chase. Resigning before they call to say: “You’re fired,”

 Below is his resignation later. I reprinted it in full because it such classic Don.

Ms. Carteris:

 I write to you today regarding the so-called Disciplinary Committee hearing aimed at revoking my union membership. Who cares! While I’m not familiar with your work, I’m very proud of my work on movies such as Home Alone 2, Zoolander and Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps; and television shows including The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, Saturday Night Live, and of course, one of the most successful shows in television history, The Apprentice – to name just a few!

 I’ve also greatly helped the cable news television business (said to be a dying platform with not much time left until I got involved in politics) and created thousands of jobs at networks such as MSDNC and Fake News CNN, among many others.

Which brings me to your blatant attempt at free media attention to distract from your dismal record as a union. Your organization has done little for its members, and nothing for me – besides collecting dues and promoting dangerous un-American policies and ideas – as evident by your massive unemployment rates and lawsuits from celebrated actors,

Who even recorded a video asking, “Why isn’t the union fighting for me?”

These, however, are policy failures. Your disciplinary failures are even more egregious. I no longer wish to be associated with your union.

 As such, this letter is to inform you of my immediate resignation from SAG-AFTRA. You have done nothing for me. Regards, President Donald J. Trump

SAG-AFTRA’s response was a simple “Thank you.” 

I appreciate the elegance, the high mindedness and the desire not to engage and breath oxygen into the situation.

But here would be my response.

Dear Mr. Trump,

First let’s set the record straight on a few things. What you did in those movies is not called work: It is called a cameo. And even though you are no longer a member, we feel it is our patriotic duty to due justice to your presidency. At present, there are numerous projects being explored. Too bad we won’t be able to consult you or even cast you, but we promise that we will create compelling, dramatic and riveting entertainment. Exactly what you would want.

Here are a just a few that are being considered by two new production companies: Orange Rot Productions and Golden Showers Productions.

Vlad and Me: A buddy picture for the ages. The plot revolves around a president of the U.S. sharing secret information for love. For any old movie fans, there is one scene of Vlad and a certain orange haired president that equals the steaminess of Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr on the beach in “From Here to Eternity.” Purportedly, its climax has a golden shower.

The Insurrectionist: a deep dive into the coordinated attempt between White Supremacy Groups and people in government to overturn an election. The opening scene is one of the scariest things ever produced. Take a seat Chucky. The scene opens with a mob storming the Capitol. The camera zooms in on crazed man taking a fire hydrant and smashing it over a police officer’s head. The camera then zooms in on an orange haired man in the oval office watching TV yelling: “Did you see that shit? That’s better than any WWF thing I’ve ever seen. Do these people love me or what?” The phone is ringing. Aides are trying to get the president’s attention to no avail. “Tell them I’m not in. Look at this shit, isn’t it just amazing.”

From Riches To Rags: This film follows the ruinous descent of a president of the United States as he loses all his friends, money, the debtors who want their due and ultimately is imprisoned. Rumor has it that some of the jail scenes at the end are quite chilling.

Let’s hope that with the current president doing the work of the president and not just making cameos, we will emerge from this nightmare and once again be able to say: “How about we go to a movie?”

Regards,

Disciplinary Board of SAG-AFTRA

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[angryhausfrau-writes]

Something Old and Something New - Chapter 7: The 4077 Rides Again

It'd tookened his Ma a fair bit of convincing to get Radar to leave the farm and go to Dr. Winchester's wedding.

He'd'a still sent in the quilt square, of course. Cuz it means a lot to Max and to Hawkeye and to the rest of the MASH folks. And he don't like letting his friends down. But he really weren't sure about actually going to the wedding.

Partways cuz he ain't left home for further away than Patricia's hometown of Lancaster since he got back from Korea. And he knows – best he can, anyway, it ain't like he's got a feeling about it or nothin – that everything's gonna be ok while he's gone. Park Sung's more'n able to look after things for a weekend and the wedding's set between planting and harvest so there ain't much to be done around the place but rooting out weeds and looking after the animals. But still, Radar don't like leaving 'em in a lurch.

But the other part – which he don't really like thinking on, even though he'd been sure to tell Patricia and his Ma, just in case things went bad and they came home early – is that Dr. Winchester don't really like him all that much. Thinks Radar's too far beneath him to be worth considering. And Radar's used to being overlooked – he ain't the smartest or the handsomest or the best at anything, really. And plenty of the commissioned officers had been like that – rude and mean and thoughtless. But that don't mean it don't still hurt. And it don't mean he wants to spend a whole weekend getting looked down on like that by Dr. Winchester again.

Truth to tell, Radar'd been shocked to get an invitation at all – and written on the fanciest paper he's ever seen, with little flowers worked in it – nice enough to put in a picture frame and hang on the wall, and being used for writing on! But there'd been his name, wrote out in real pretty handwriting and under it a little note in the same writing saying how much Mrs. Dr. Winchester wanted to meet him.

But nothing from Dr. Winchester.

So it just feels like maybe he don't know Radar's coming, is all. And that maybe he and Patricia'll get there and Dr. Winchester'll be real mad and condescending and mean like he gets and they'll get throwed outta there.

Which would be too bad, cuz Radar's really looking forward to seeing all the folks from the 4077 who'll be there too – an it won't be everybody of course, cuz Dr. Winchester weren't there for the first half of the war, an he don't care for some of the folks from the 4077 even more than he don't care for Radar. But Hawkeye'll be there and Trapper and BJ and maybe even Max, who Radar's really missed – the one person who'd never ragged on him for being short or a kid or homesick or nothing. Though Dr. Winchester don't like Max any more than he'd liked Radar, so it ain't likely.

But his Ma'd just said “nothing ventured means nothing gained” in response to Radar's worries. And that's true enough. He wouldn't be where he is with Patricia if'n he hadn't'a talked to her that day in Kimpo and then wrote to her once he got back home. And he wouldn't have Park Soon's help here at the farm if'n he hadn't'a wrote to Hawkeye about the farm – and then told the truth of the matter when they'd found him out in his lies. And he could'a saved a whole mess of time if'n he'd'a just wrote the truth in the first place – been honest with his friends from the start, even though it'd been embarrassing to admit he were struggling.

His Ma'd been right, of course, so he and Patrica'd headed up to Ottumwa and got the bus out East. And that'd been all right, as things go. It's a good thing he and Patricia like seeing a lot of each other, though, boy, cuz it'd tookened near to a whole day to get where they were going – and the bus'd broke down once and it was almost like being back on an army transport – minus being shelled.

But now they're in Boston in the lobby of a real fancy hotel – the kind of place Radar ain't sure they ain't gonna get kicked outta, invitation or no. He feels like a real rube, standing there rubbernecking at all the gold and fancy chandeliers and all the folks dressed up real nice just to set in the lobby. But then he sees Max and Soon Li up by the check-in desk and when he comes up to 'em, Max smiles real big and hugs Radar and starts shooting the breeze like it ain't been no time at all since they'd seen each other. And Radar figures things oughtta work out all right after all. And he is really looking forward to seeing the rest of his friends from Korea.

--

Trapper and Hawkeye and all their house-guests cram into a cab over to Back Bay and the poncy hotel Charles's wedding reception is at. And they're a little early – mostly so the ladies have time to change into the fancy duds called for in the dress code – and ain't that a kicker, having a little printed card of what you can and can't wear included in the invitation instead of just saying to dress nice or whatever. But maybe that's normal for posh weddings, Trapper wouldn't know. All he knows is that he's glad the guys' instructions just say black tie.

At any rate, it's good they get there early cuz there's a little bit of a SNAFU when they try to check in cuz the concierge don't wanna accept their invitations as legitimate at first. But Margaret strong arms him into letting them in with the power of righteous indignation and the threat of a shiner. So they collect their keys and split off to their rooms – well, Sidney and Steve and Millie do, he and Hawkeye and the gals don't gotta split very far. Since ostensibly Hawkeye's taking Margaret to this shindig and Trapper's bringing Kat they've got a suite made up of a couple bedrooms, a bathroom, and even a little living room to divide up how they want.

“Charles must not have wanted to make any assumptions about the sleeping arrangements,” Hawkeye says lightly. “Either that or Marjory set all this up.”

“It could have been Charles, I suppose.” Margaret sounds pretty doubtful, though. “I mean, he can be surprisingly tactful sometimes. Though I doubt he knows the truth of the situation – he's probably just concerned about how it would look having unmarried couples sneaking into each others' rooms.”

The concierge had very pointedly informed Steve and Millie that they were in a room with two twin beds – not that that's much of a deterrent, in Trapper's experience. After you've fucked in an army cot, a twin bed is positively roomy. And Charles or Marjory or whoever set this up probably knows that. But it's all gotta look right on paper - hence their little setup.

“Yeah,” adds Kat. “We wouldn't want to give any of those little old rich ladies the impression that people have sex for fun.”

“Heaven forbid,” Trapper says in his best impression of his pearl clutching former mother-in-law.

“Fortunately for Charles's reputation as a pillar of Boston high society, my days of sneaking into the nurses' tent are long over.” Hawkeye gives Trapper an unbearably smarmy look and Trapper chucks one of the stupid little throw pillows at him.

Margaret and Kat roll their eyes at them and leave the line of fire to finish getting ready. Hawkeye and Trapper grin at each other – they've just been given implicit permission to fuck around like dumb kids for a while and they're gonna take full advantage of it. It might be the last chance at fun for the whole night, given what a wedding reception run by the illustrious Winchester family is bound to be like.

But before they can start an all out pillow fight, there's a knock at the door.

“Max! Soon Li!” Hawkeye exclaims, tearing the door open. “What brings you to our humble abode?”

“I come bearing gifts – or one gift specifically. I figured everyone'd wanna put their cards in with the quilt before we put it on the gift table. And I heard a rumor you got all this extra real estate, so I figured you wouldn't mind hosting.” Max looks around as she sets the quilt – wrapped in hideously gaudy wrapping paper – on the side table. “Radar wasn't kidding about your hotel room being palatial. I'm pretty sure it's bigger than my whole fucking apartment.”

“Just one of the many perks of having rich friends and a socially unacceptable relationship,” Hawkeye says glibly. “But we're happy to babysit the quilt – it'll give us a chance to catch up with everyone as they wander through. I'm assuming you and Radar told everyone else where to find us.”

“Speaking of catching up,” Trapper interjects as he goes from formally introducing himself to Soon Li to greeting Max - more interested in giving her a great big hug than the inner workings of all things Radar. “It's real nice seeing you again, Max,” he says into the top of her head – and then he pulls back and gives her a once over, “Kinda weird seeing you in men's civvies, though.”

Soon Li nods. “Men's clothes are so ugly. Like a flour sack.”

“To be fair, this looks like some quality tailoring. Just not the Max Klinger I remember.”

Trapper walks around her, taking in all the angles, seeming bemused. And that's right. Trapper wasn't there for the end of the war when Max had started wearing army issue fatigues and men's clothing. Partly it was trying to live up to the new rank and new responsibilities – people just tended to trust her more in “normal” clothing – and she was willing to sacrifice to make sure the 4077 ran smoothly. And partly it was the blue discharges being handed out like candy as part of Eisenhower's campaign bid. Why exactly the folks at home cared about that over things like being able to pay the bills and put food on the table, she still doesn't know.

But Max wanted out on a psycho – the respectable way – and not a blue discharge. So the uniform and the wacky costumes had replaced the Klinger collection. At least on the surface.

Max laughs. “Don't worry, I'm wearing a delightful little seafoam camisole and panty set underneath. Still the Max Klinger you know and love.”

“Oh yeah?” And now Trapper's looming behind Max, hands on her hips, tall and broad and full of the flirtatious intensity she remembers from Korea.

The kind of flirtation that says “I'm only joking - unless you're interested, and then I'm completely serious.” The kind of flirtation you had to use for situations like these. But it's also the kind of flirtation that won't be upset at Max's refusal.

So she just turns and pushes Trapper away playfully. “Stop it you lech. I'm a married woman now.”

“And Soon Li's one hell of a lucky gal,” is Trapper's easy response. And he winks at her across the room. So his complete inability to get jealous hasn't changed from Korea – good to know.

“Flattery won't get you a private fashion show,” Max teases. “But it may get you a discount on any future lingerie purchases.” She turns to Hawkeye, who'd been watching all this unfold with a sort of amused fondness. “Maybe something in powder blue lace?” It would look lovely against his skin tone and really bring out his eyes.

“Fuck.” Trapper sounds like he's been punched in the gut and had all the air knocked out of him. “You don't play fair at all, Max.”

She pats Trapper's cheek in gentle mockery. “I never have – and I don't see any reason to start now. Besides, someone has to keep my new tailoring business afloat.”

“Yes, Max, you must keep me in the station to which I've become accustomed,” Soon Li says with a laugh.

Trapper slaps Max on the back. “Good thing you make the big bucks, then, huh?”

“It's got to be lucrative, being Toledo's only Mob affiliated tailor,” Hawkeye jokes. Which may or may not actually be true, Max doesn't know.

She winks at him. “Watch out. You're consorting with a known criminal.”

“Better to be in bed with the mob than the cops,” Trapper says with a shrug. “At least their quota's just in dollars not arrested degenerates.”

“It's true,” Max says with a slightly bitter laugh.

Cuz it is. Uncle Habib's Mob affiliation is the reason Max is in business at all – bribes and the threat of Mob retaliation keeps the cops from looking too close. And as long as Max provides a veneer of honest commerce to the operation, the Mob doesn't look at her clients – or herself - too close either.

“Allah be praised for good old fashioned back-alley enterprise.”

“And naked greed,” Trapper adds.

“I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at nudity being your conversation topic of choice,” Sidney says as he and Father Mulcahy join the rapidly growing little party in their hotel room.

“Padre!” Hawkeye rushes up to him and kisses him exuberantly on the cheek. “It's been forever since we've seen you – what gives? You get sick of poker?”

“I hope not,” Trapper interjects. “I'm pretty sure a game'll break out at some point tonight.”

“And since you're here, we'll be able to write off our losses as a charitable donation to the orphan's fund,” Hawkeye adds with a laugh.

After a beat, the Padre laughs as well. “Don't you worry, I brought along a deck of cards and a collection plate. Though I've been doing more work with Deaf youths than orphans, now.”

Hawkeye and Trapper both seem to notice the pause – and they have some sort of silent conversation about it if the subtle facial expressions and hand gestures are any indication.

Francis touches the stem of his hearing aides. And his friends must have noticed these as well – they are certainly obtrusive. He knows Sidney has. Though he hasn't said anything, just making sure to enunciate clearly and speak facing Francis.

Or perhaps the hearing aids just feel large and clunky and obvious. He's still getting used to wearing them, after all. And they don't quite feel natural yet the way his glasses do.

He'd had surgery after coming back from Korea – promised as a miracle cure for his type of hearing damage. Apparently shelling had done a number on many young men and doctors were scrambling to find a way to reverse the damage. And Francis has seen his fair share of miracles in Korea, particularly of the medical variety, so he'd agreed to undergo the procedure at the prompting of the Philadelphia diocese, who were eager to have him go back to his old role of hearing confessions and leading youth group at the local Catholic Youth Center – both of which required he be able to, well, hear.

But the Lord often works in mysterious ways, as he'd kept telling himself during the worst of the Korean war. So when the surgery didn't work, it was obvious to Francis that he is meant to be deaf. And when they'd offered to try again with a second operation, he'd told them not to bother and spent the time recovering from surgery by learning sign language. Which is good because the healing scars behind his ears had prevented him from wearing hearing aids for several weeks and even now the aids are uncomfortable enough that he doesn't wear them all the time. Plus, they don't really restore all of his hearing – he still mostly depends on being able to read lips. And his friends obviously noticed that fact.

But all Hawkeye says is, “Certainly a noble cause – and one I'm more than happy to donate my disposable income towards.”

And he says all this while signing along.

“Where did you learn that?” Francis blurts out. No one other than BJ knew he was deaf – and he'd promised not to tell anyone.

And Trapper and Max and Sidney look just as surprised as he is. So it can't have been BJ spilling the proverbial beans.

Hawkeye shrugs. “My grandpa taught me. All the old fishermen used to use sign language on the lobster boats – easier than trying to yell at one another over a storm. And apparently it got to be common enough that everyone around town used it. Up until Alexander Graham Bell showed up and convinced everyone it would encourage Deaf people to have families together and lead to a decay in the moral fabric of America, anyway.”

“Good thing you've never cared about decaying moral fabric,” Trapper says with a sly smile.

And Max chimes in with, “Sounds to me like he probably just wanted to sell more telephones. What a scam artist.”

And then they're all laughing and joking around like they used to, with Francis right there in the middle of it. It feels like no time at all has passed – like Francis is still in Korea and it's terrible and wonderful and it feels like home the way the Philadelphia neighborhood where he grew up and came back to administer over used to feel like. And he sinks back into the feeling of friendship and belonging the same way he sinks into the plush sofa he'd been pushed into by Hawkeye. Who always did like taking care of his friends.

Friends who keep filtering in and out of the hotel room – stopping in to drop off their cards to go along with the quilt, or just to say hi, or to sit and chat a while. The room gets a little crowded and Francis feels slightly, well, pressed. And Hawkeye looks like he's getting a little claustrophobic. So when Margaret and Trapper's date emerge from one of the bedrooms, he makes is way over to where Hawkeye's standing with Colonel and Mrs. Potter and says, “I'm going down to the reception now,” just to gauge where Hawkeye's standing.

“You want me to come with you?” And Hawkeye seems very eager to be out of the overcrowded room. And he's always looking for a way to help others. Even when he won't admit to needing help himself.

So Francis nods. “If you don't mind acting as translator for a while tonight. My sister the Sister couldn't make it – and I'm afraid crowds make things more difficult.”

“Sure thing Padre.” Hawkeye throws an arm over Francis's shoulders, indicates to Trapper that he's leaving, and starts directing them out the door. “Though you should know I mostly used sign language to pass notes in class – so sorry if most of my vocabulary involves insulting algebra.”

Francis laughs – partly from Hawkeye's disclaimer and partly because he can vaguely hear Trapper telling everyone in the hotel room to get the hell out, he's not the one running the reception. So they – plus Margaret, once she's done saying her goodbyes to Trapper's date and some of the other nurses - lead something of a stampede down to the ballroom. But it's more spread out than things in the hotel room had been, so that's a blessing.

With the hotel room cleared out, Trapper does an inventory of all the cards they've accumulated in a towering stack next to the quilt.

“Looks like we're just missing BJ,” Max says from where she's looking over his elbow. “He always did have a kinda California attitude about showing up on time.” Unlike her, who, as a good daughter of the Midwest, always showed up at least fifteen minutes early to appointments.

Trapper checks his watch. “We've still got a bit before the shindig's supposed to officially start. And rich people like to be fashionably late anyway.” He turns to Kat. “But if you want to head down now, I figure Max can take it from here.”

Max throws herself at him like some heroine from a bad romance novel. “Trapper! How could you! I am but a poor and delicate maiden. This heavy gift is too much for my frail arms to bear. Please! Won't some strapping young man help me with this task?” She feels up his arms. “Preferably one with real big biceps.”

Trapper blushes – and part of it may be that everyone's laughing at Max's ridiculous statement – but part of it could be that Max is still sort of thrown over as much of him as she can reach. It would probably work better if she was in heels, to be honest. But it's not her fault he's so tall and she's in flats.

“C'mon, Max, quit trying to snow me. It ain't gonna work.” He's doing his best to keep an aloof expression, but Max can see where the cracks are starting to form. And she's always been good at applying pressure in just the right way to get what she wants. And Trapper's a pretty easy mark, anyway, since he genuinely likes her and all.

“But Trapper, Hawkeye got you to fight that one guy just by saying you had a cute body. Is that it? Do I gotta start complimenting you?” She bats her eyelashes coquettishly. “You're so strong, and handsome, and-”

“Ok, ok, cut it out. I'll deliver the damn gift. Just stop doing that.”

Terminal embarrassment works pretty good too, it turns out.

Max flounces over to Soon Li, secure in the knowledge that the quilt isn't her responsibility anymore. “C'mon, sweetheart, let's get outta here.” And then over her shoulder, “Thanks again for being such a good friend, Trapper!”

He flips her off, but she and Soon Li are free and clear, and Trapper will get over it. Eventually. She might owe him for a while – but it's worth it.

With just Kat and Sidney left, and it getting later and later, Trapper turns to them and says, “You guys may as well get out of here, too. There's no point in us all being late.”

Kat shrugs. “Sure, I'll let Sidney take over as my date. It's no skin off my teeth. But you forgot to pin me, Trap.” She points meaningfully to her lapel.

Trapper wiggles his eyebrows lecherously and goes to get the corsage.

“Violets?” Kat arches an eyebrow at Trapper as he pins it to her dress. “Real cute, McIntyre.”

“Hey, you just told me your dress was purple, is all.”

“Lavender, actually.” She grins.

“All right, now who's being cute?” Trapper asks teasingly.

 Kat just sticks her tongue out at him and things devolve into something of a scuffle. Sidney sits on the back of the couch, egging Kat on when she gets Trapper in a headlock – and that's when BJ decides to finally show up. She and Trapper step away from one another, coughing awkwardly, and try to straighten out their fancy clothes.

“I think that's our cue to leave,” Sidney says into the unbroken silence.

 BJ just stands there looking taken aback. And the woman who must be Peg looks like she's trying not to laugh. But it's probably better to hotfoot it out of there – so Kat readily takes Sidney's arm and they kind of edge past BJ and Peg and out the door.

“You here to put your card with the quilt?” Trapper asks when it becomes apparent that BJ isn't going to say anything or move from where he's still standing in the doorway.

 And that seems to spark him into action – which is good, cuz by now they're officially late to the reception. And since they hadn't been invited to the actual  wedding   wedding, just the reception, Trapper wants to make the most of it.

 Not that he's gonna complain about not having to sit through some endless protestant Mass just to watch his friends make out.

Fine, he's a little sad he didn't get to go. But the reception – if BJ ever hurries it up so he can get to it –oughtta be good, seeing as they're pretty much treating it as a 4077 reunion being held on the Winchester's dime. And there's a lot worse ways to spend a weekend. Like standing here in a hotel room while BJ fumbles through his pockets for a card that his wife has meanwhile pulled out of her purse.

And it don't look like things are gonna get any less awkward anytime soon. So Trapper grabs the present from the side table, with all the cards kinda piled on top. And Peg puts their card on the pile and then gently chivies her husband out the door so Trapper can lock up. And it's probably pretty rude to just leave them there in the hallway without waiting so they can all walk down to the reception together – but Trapper just wants this errand over with so he can go sit with his friends some more. And Peg and BJ seem to be having a moment together anyway, so he sets out alone.

He's gonna kill Max for leaving him to wrangle the gift without her.

[backofthebookshelf]

Book Recs for Magnus Archives Fans

I was just rambling in tags the other day about how my avatarsona was "the Archivist, but a public librarian: Oh, you like dirt?? Let me tell you all the dirt stories I have!!!!" so, uh, here I am I guess.

I'm gonna spare you all the M.R. James and Algernon Blackwood and House of Leaves and Blindsight; you know all that already. These are my horror backlist recs.

The Bone Key by Sarah Monette Y'all. Y'ALL. Kyle Murchison Booth was absolutely the Archivist before Gertrude. He was poached from the Parrington by the Usher Foundation and the Eye glommed onto him at once, because the Eye loves disaster queers who can't people right (and also Gertrude). This I believe to be true, and so will you.

Kyle Murchison Booth is an archivist at the Parrington Museum, which is somewhere in New England, sometime in the early twentieth century. He also has a lifelong entanglement with the supernatural which is almost entirely not his fault, and he would very much like it to stop, but he also feels responsible and he can't just let evil mirrors and cursed necklaces and possessed dressing gowns randomly eat people who have no idea what's happening. Even if it means he's going to suffer for it.

(This collection doesn't contain all of the Booth stories, so here I am going to link to "White Charles", which happens to be my very favorite Booth story.)

For you if your favorite part is: honestly everything about MAG, from the modern sensibilities about early twentieth-century-horror, truly eerie ghost stories, to suffering eldritch librarians (thanks to whoever tagged my most recent fic with that you're so valid), monsterfucking and soft gay pining. No happy endings here, sorry.

Bedfellow by Jeremy C. Shipp You may or may not have heard that Macmillan-Tor is launching a horror imprint, and I don't know how long it's been since a major publishing house has had a horror imprint, but I am EXCITE. This book is part of the trend that's the reason why: Tor.com has been publishing these kickass novellas for a couple years now, and their horror books are top notch.

One night a stranger knocks on a family's living room window and asks to be invited in. They ask him to stay the night. He's an old friend, after all, he needs a place to stay. You can't kick out your twin brother when he's just gotten divorced, no matter how much Gatorade he spills on your two-year-old hardwood floors.

For you if your favorite part is: the Stranger, this is all Stranger, it's terrifying and good.

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll A graphic novel, some of these were originally posted as webcomics (have you seen His Face All Red, and if not, why not???) and the only disadvantage to having them in book form is they can't blink at you. Probably. Very folktale-ish, with all the death and violence that implies, and also the slightly eerie feeling that you know this story already, and then it turns around and slaps you.

For you if your favorite part is: looking over your shoulder when the foley gets good; Once Upon a Time in Space (I know that's not technically part of the Magnus Archives but shush)

Universal Harvester by John Darnielle I am not usually a fan of artists who jump media. Just because you can write songs doesn't mean you can write novels. Apparently writing good songs doesn't mean you can't write good novels, though, because John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats (pretty sure that's his full name at this point) wrote Universal Harvester and I love him for it.

Jeremy works at a video rental place in Nevada, Iowa (it's pronounced Nah-vey-da, and yes it’s real, I've been there, and yes, it's probably haunted). It's the 1990s, and someone's been returning their VHS tapes with something on them that isn't just the movie. Footage that includes a barn that he recognizes, just outside of town.

Fair warning: this is not the kind of mystery that gets tied up in a nice bow at the end.

For you if your favorite part is: Jon losing it with paranoia in S2, The People's Church of the Divine Host, the Lonely

The Good House by Tananarive Due If this author's name is unfamiliar to you, RUN, do not walk, to your nearest internet bookseller and purchase every single one of her books immediately, you will not regret it. She also just came out with a documentary on black horror, Horror Noire, on the Shudder streaming service. They've got a free month if you aren't a horror movie person, it'd be worth your while. This book summary sounds like it's full of tropes. It is, but Due has the cred to write them well.

Angela Toussaint hopes to salvage her suffering marriage and her troubled relationship with her teenage son with a trip to her grandmother's house, a home so beloved the locals in small-town Washington state call it "The Good House," but tragedy strikes instead. Two years later she returns and finds that the tragedy isn't over, and it's not going to stop on its own.

For you if your favorite part is: the very practical statement-givers who know what's happening to them and Will Not Put Up With This Shit, the Desolation, the Hill Top Road statements

The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins Is this horror disguised as fantasy? Found family disguised as horror? Grown-up Neil Gaiman? Less grimdark George R.R. Martin? Honestly I have no fucking idea, but it's amazing. Fair warning, unlike Magnus Archives, this deserves all kinds of trigger warnings, including but not necessarily limited to: sexual assault, torture, mental manipulation, dysfunctional families, incest(?)

Father is missing, and his twelve children (though extremely talented in their own ways, and not strictly speaking children any more) are at a loss without him. But also, without him, things are starting to seem different. He might be God? They might not be human? (They were probably human once.) He might not be God but maybe one of them might be next? If any of them survive.

For you if your favorite part is: slowly turning into a monster, the relationships between entities and avatars, monsters hot (not kidding about the trigger warnings)

The Loney by Andrew Michael Hurley I have to keep reminding myself that Magnus Archives isn't really folk horror, there are two separate (if related) strains of British horror here and folk horror is not the one we're on, but at the same time I really want a good creepy rural pagan cult to show up in the series, you know? Anyway.

When he was a child, our narrator used to go with his family on an Easter pilgrimage to shrine on a bleak stretch of Lancaster coastline locals called The Loney. His Catholic mother was searching for a cure for his older brother, and she was convinced if they kept going long enough she would be granted her wish. The locals, however, are not huge fans of her annual visits, and even less so when the boys become involved with the goings-on of a pair of glamorous tourists.

For you if your favorite part is: the Lukases, I didn't realize until I was writing this up that I'm picturing Moreland House in the exact place described by this book

Eutopia by David Nickle One thing I love about the historical statements in Magnus Archives is just how truly historical they are. There's almost nothing in "The Piper" that isn't historically accurate - yes, Wilfrid Owen spent several days in a trench underneath the shredded bodies of his fellow soldiers. Like. You can't make up horror worse than that. But then you add monsters and it gets good. And I'm a sucker for early-twentieth-century history, it's such a bonkers time.

It's 1911 and the new Eugenics Record Office is sending agents out to catalog the disabled, infirm, and otherwise undesirable members of society so they can figure out what to do about them. In the utopian town of Eliada, Idaho, Dr. Andrew Waggoner runs from the racism of American society and straight into the influence of Mister Juke, the most troubling patient in his new practice. (Trigger warnings for, obviously, a whole lot of ableism. Treated like the monstrousness it is, but there's a lot of it.)

For you if your favorite part is: learning history through horror, the Flesh

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay I hate male writers writing about teenage girls, so you are going to have to trust me when I say that I had to check, several times while reading this book, to make sure that Paul Tremblay is actually a dude. He's very good. This book was kind of his breakout, so if you follow horror you've read it already, but if you don't necessarily then please do not miss it. His newer ones, Disappearance at Devil's Rock (Stranger, Spiral) and The Cabin at the End of the World (Slaughter, Extinction), are also good but not as good as this, I think.

Fourteen-year-old Marjorie is having a rough time - outbursts, hallucinations, paranoia. Treatment is difficult (and expensive) and her family ambivalent; they turn to a local Catholic priest, who recommends an exorcism and, to help manage those medical bills, a production company who's interested in filming a reality TV show about the process. Fifteen years later, Marjorie's sister deconstructs the now-famous show and wrestles with her own memories of childhood. Trigger warnings for ableism on the part of many of the characters, but not the narrative.

For you if your favorite part is: the Spiral, metafictional analysis of horror tropes

[angellazull]

Angelo Nikolas Stellair Lancaster

🇬🇧🇬🇧 PERSONAL DATA 🇬🇧🇬🇧

NAME: Angelo Nikolas Stellair Lancaster

GENDER: Male

AGE: 16

BIRTH DATE: 23th August

SPECIES: Half-Veela (By mother)

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood.

SEXUALITY: Pansexual

ALIGNMENT: Neutral and Good

ETNIA: White

NATIONALITY: Brazilian/British

RESIDENCE: Royal Garden - England

                       Paris - France (In Holidays)

TYPE OF PERSONALITY: INTJ

HOBBY: Read

               Study.

MAGIC

WAND: Ebony - 35 - Veela's hair (from your mother) - Slightly flexible.

ANIMAGA FORM: A black Bombay cat with a strand of blue fur on its head.

BOGGART FORM: Your mother or Jacob dead.

RIDDIKUKUS: Your mother or Jacob juggling puffs.

AMORTENTIA: New scroll.

                           Ocean

                           Rain

                           Lilies perfume

PATRONUS: A Bombay cat.

PATRONUS MEMORY: The day his mother took him and his brother to ice skate and he fell, yet Jacob threw himself into the water and saved him, and said that he would always be there to save him.

MIRROR OF ERISED: Be with your father once again.

FAVORITE/ SPECIALIZED SPELL:

Climate charm.

Ice and snow charm.

Patronus charm.

     APPEARANCE

FACECLAIM: None.

GAME APPEARANCE:

HEIGHT: 6′3

WEIGHT: 71kg

PHYSIQUE: Skinny Lean 

EYE COLOUR: Sapphire

HAIR COLOR: Originally platinum white. Currently royal blue.

SKIN TONE: Caucasian

SCAR: None

ACCESSORIES: A leather choker with small chains.

                         His father's wristwatch.

                         Your rare copy of Margot Poufue's Elemental Magic

                          Your diary

STYLE: When not wearing the school uniform, he wears his cobalt blue sweater with the Ravenclaw coat on his chest. With the trousers folded to the shin showing his blue and silver striped high socks and his shoes with blue laces. Her hair was kept combed with the strands thrown behind her head.

VEELA FORM: When Angelo takes on his veela form, his chest, belly, back and arms are covered by white feathers that seem to glow in the sun, two large wings appear on his back and two other smaller wings appear above his ears, two feathers are born. over the forehead. The fingers and toes lengthen along with the nails becoming clawlike.

HOGWARTS INORMATION

HOUSE: Ravenclaw.

POSITIONS: Ravenclaw monitor

Seeker of Ravenclaw team

                       Member of the Frog Coral

                       Charm Club President

                       Transfiguration Club Member

QUIDDITCH: Ravenclaw Seeker

CLASS PROFICIENCIES: 

Spells - O

Transfigurations - O

Herbology - O

Potions - O

DADA - O

History of Magic - A

Care of Magical Creatures - A

FAVORITE PROFESSOR: Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick

LESS FAVORITE PROFESSOR: Patricia Rakepick and Severus Snape

RELATIONSHIPS

BROTHER: Jacob Alexander Stellaire Lancaster.

MOTHER: Leonor Marjorie Lancaster (Born Stellaire) - Veela

FATHER: Charles Oliver Lancaster - Auror - Dead.

MATERNAL GRANDMAS: Marjorie Isabelle Stellaire (Born Courier) - Veela. Nikolas Filip Stellaire - Veela

PATTERN GRANDMS: Damares Maria Lancaster (Born Trindade) - Dead. Alexander Lancaster - Dead.

LOVE INTEREST: Penny Haywood

BEST FRIENDS: Rowan Khanna, Penny Haywood, Barnaby Lee, Talbott Winger

RIVAL (CANON): Merula Snyder

                            Ismelda Munk

RIVALS (OUT OF CANON): Sebastian Anguslow

ENEMIES: Merula Snyder.

                  Sebastian Anguslow

BEST FRIENDS (OUT OF CANON): Roger Lopez, Kyril Vasiley.

PETS: Black cat (Arthy)

Gray Owl (Rowena)

Kneazle (Nigth)

Puffskein (Tufo)

HISTORY:

Angelo Lancaster, the second son of Charles and Leonor Lancaster, inheriting half of his mother's Veela blood, made him a beautiful child with delicate facial expressions, earning him the nickname Angel among family members.

When he was only three years old, his father was killed by a death eater, Rabastan Lestrange. With their father's death, the Lancaster moved to a small village called Royal-Garden. After his brother was accepted at Hogwarts, Angelo who walked alone through Royal-Garden, and suffered bulliyng from another boy named Sebastian Anguslow, who offended him by being half veela.

After his brother Jacob's involvement with the Cursed Vault, Angelo felt betrayed, so Jacob and Angel were always very close and always told each other everything, or that's what he believed and Jacob never said anything about it to him. he, feeling abandoned by it, only made the bullying of the other witch children in Royal-Garden worse when the story spread, leaving him unfriendly, preferring to stay home reading all his parents' books.

After entering Hogwarts, Angelo was selected for Ravenclaw's house, but continued to be compared with his brother, which made him very uncomfortable. Her first friends Rowan Khanna and Penny Haywood have always been by her side to feel good.

In his third year, he met the mysterious young Talbott Winger, who helped him become an animagus. Taking the shape of a black Bombay cat with a strand of blue fur on its head.

PERSONALITY:

Angelo is a very shy boy who doesn't easily interact with new people, keeping in touch only with those who are closest to him, but that started to change when he met our friends.

Being a very smart guy, he always prefers to find the most creative way out of a tricky or risky situation, although trying to see the positive side of situations, he eventually gives in when he feels overly psychologically charged, moving away from everyone to be a little alone.

But one of his biggest shortcomings is not trusting people unless they really prove they deserve their trust, which has made him quite isolated.

[bulkbinbox]

pescando salmão no rio susquehanna, lancaster, pensilvânia, marjory collins

[thebrightdarksideofthemoon]

Representantes dessa grande palhaçada.

[tabloidtoc]

National Examiner, September 9

Cover: JFK’s secret love affair with Princess Grace 

Page 2: Secrets behind the scenes of Speed 

Page 4: Stars who were nabbed for shoplifting -- Winona Ryder, Kim Richards, Megan Fox, Lindsay Lohan 

Page 5: Britney Spears, Amy Schumer, Lynn Anderson, Shelley Morrison, Farrah Fawcett, Hugh Jackman 

Page 7: How to Forgive 

Page 8: Dream Doctor -- Don’t be afraid to speak up 

Page 9: What Jesus really looked like 

Page 11: Your Health -- Fall allergies 

Page 12: Carrie Underwood’s incredible road to stardom 

Page 14: Dear Tony -- America’s labor force needs skilled trade workers, Tony predicts Megan Rapinoe leading and winning the fight for equal pay with the men’s soccer team 

Page 16: What We Did on Our Summer Vacation -- Hollywood stars get some R&R -- Vince Vaughn and wife Kyla and son Vernon, Elton John and Neil Patrick Harris with their husbands and kids, Rod Stewart and wife Penny Lancaster and kids Alistair and Aiden, Sean Penn 

Page 17: Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell, Steve Harvey and wife Marjorie, Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones, Matt Damon, Jason Momoa, Matthew McConaughey 

Page 18: Sleeping apart can be healthier for your marriage 

Page 20: Cover Story -- Jackie Kennedy seethed at John F. Kennedy’s romance with Grace Kelly who almost became first lady 

Page 22: A 30-year-old man who functions at the level of a 6-year-old has finally found a home with his old junior high school teacher 

Page 26: Laura Dern is following in the footsteps of her famous parents Bruce Dern and Diane Ladd, Kathie Lee Gifford has a new younger man 

Page 28: The Good Doctor -- 9 crucial questions to ask your pharmacist 

Page 29: Where you store your food may be sabotaging the way you eat 

Page 32: The shocking truth about Princess Diana’s death 

Page 38: True Crime 

Page 44: Eyes on the Stars -- Ringo Starr, Valerie Bertinelli has cooked up a whole new career, Cressida Bonas is engaged to Harry Wentworth-Stanley, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle have been outspoken about the environment and have taken four trips on a private plane in 11 days, Chris Martin is back together with Dakota Johnson, Taylor Swift has been shopping for a home in boyfriend Joe Alwyn’s native London, Jane Fonda said her younger brother Peter Fonda went out laughing 

Page 45: Justin Bieber and wife Hailey Baldwin may be ready to say I Do again, Kiefer Sutherland’s European tour to promote his album didn’t go as planned after he slipped on the steps of the bus while traveling in Denmark and injured a rib, Olivia Newton-John says she’s doing really well despite her third bout with breast cancer, Kaley Cuoco married Carl Cook in 2018 but they’re still not living together, Arnold Schwarzenegger and daughter Christina, Gladys Knight, Ice-T, Dyan Cannon, blind item 

[heirselection-rp]

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento VOSSA ALTEZA REAL, A PRINCESA FA CHAE-RIN. Segundo as más línguas ela se parece com ELLA GROSS. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento o GUARDA  RUSH LENCASTRE. Segundo as más línguas ele se parece com NEELS VISSER . 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento VOSSA ALTEZA REAL, O PRÍNCIPE FA SEUNG . Segundo as más línguas ele se parece com KIM JONG-IN. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento A DAMA DE COMPANHIA CEALENNA LANCASTER . Segundo as más línguas ela se parece com CAITLIN STACEY. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento A SELECIONADA DE ELLCRYS,  ELIZABETH HILL. Segundo as más línguas ela se parece com LILY JAMES. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento A SELECIONADA DE DAMAROK, MARJORIE GONZALEZ. Segundo as más línguas ela se parece com LANA CONDOR. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento A SELECIONADA DE FLAVON, ANGELIC SWAN. Segundo as más línguas ela se parece com ZOEY DEUTCH. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento VOSSA ALTEZA REAL, A PRINCESA KATRINE ANNA MARGRETHE ENESCO . Segundo as más línguas ela se parece com WILLA FITZGERALD. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento A SELECIONADA DE WARWICK, KANG YONA. Segundo as más línguas ela se parece com LEE SUNMI. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento VOSSA MAJESTADE REAL, A RAINHA SASKYA LOIS MINKA VON NASSAU . Segundo as más línguas ela se parece com ROMEE STRIJD. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento O SELECIONADO DE FLAVON, WADE HART. Segundo as más línguas ele se parece com CHRIS WOOD. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento O SELECIONADO DE KINGHORNE, WILLIAM HERONDALE. Segundo as más línguas ela se parece com DOUGLAS BOOTH. 

Senhoras e senhores, é com imensa honra que eu vos apresento A SELECIONADA DE MELVILLE, CANDICE ELLA STEELYN. Segundo as más línguas ela se parece com JOSEFINE FRIDA PETTERSEN. 

Sejam bem vindos, todos as personagens aceitas possuem 48hrs para o envio do tumblr da personagem.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Thursday, March 4

Buffy: We're going to the Bronze. I can study and party and do Parent-Teacher night and make my mother proud as long as I don't have to... Giles and Jenny come walking in. Giles: Buffy! Buffy: ...fight vampires.

~~School Hard~~

The Sunnydale Herald is still looking for a few new editors! For more information, drop us an ask on Tumblr or contact thenewbuzwuzz on LJ or DW!

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Five Conversations (Xander/Faith, M) by nwhepcat

You, Therefore, Me (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by OffYourBird

[Chaptered Fiction]

Safe, Chapter 1 (Giles/Buffy, M) by RoselynnThornwood

Uncovering Tinfoil, Chapter 1 (ensemble, M) by deathbymusic, TurtleVale

Background Love, Chapter 1 (Tara/Willow, Tara & Dawn, Willow & Dawn, Buffy & Dawn, T) by 29PheonixLement

I Will Be That Monster, Chapter 1 (crossover with "Harry Potter", Willow/Hermione, M) by Deiticlast

Broken Bridges, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Dusty

Mortal Allies Series, Episode 4: My Turn, Chapter 9 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

A Time for Everything, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Nik84

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: 9 BtVS S7 icons (Willow, Giles, Spike, other characters, worksafe) by nondenomifan

Artwork: Cordelia painting (worksafe) by nananana-nina

Artwork: Vampface Angel (worksafe) by Eric Dockery

Artwork: Tara and Willow digital painting (possibly NSFW) by reflectedeve

Vid: moon song (Spike/Buffy) by jo's edits

Vid: marjorie (Spike/Buffy) by jo's edits

Vid: Bad Boy (Spike/Buffy) by extremelycosmic

Video: Cordelia drawing - artwork process video (worksafe) by Jelowe Art

Video: 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' Pole Grooves @ Body Electric Pole by Miss G Pole Dancer - Giada Caluzzi

Video: Sunnydale: Teaser Trailer by Ash Sevilla

Video: Buffy character outfits by Ruby Lancaster

Dramatic reading: Willow in Revelations by Erica Morchower

Dramatic reading: My Xander impression by Ultimate Buffy Fan

Dramatic reading: Willow's monologue from The Body by Ashur Gharavi

[Reviews & Recaps]

Video: Review of BtVS season 2, part 1 by John Benson

PODCAST: Fix It In Post: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the movie

PODCAST: Flunking the Written: Becoming - Part Two

Gingerbread by UKnowDaTruth

PODCAST: Still Pretty 147. Two to Go (S6.21)

[Recs]

Anya ficlet "Life Sucks" by badly_knitted recced by petzipellepingo

AtS s01e09 Hero reaction video by SoraMiyano recced by Priceless

Episode reviews from Critically Touched recced by Cheese Slices

[Fandom Discussions]

Jesse the forgotten friend by crazycat_15 and others

The worst thing Faith ever did. [with disclaimer: yes, this post is a joke] by moviephil4315

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!