#myrna v

[bushelofmuses]

Open Rp; Myrna Lavellan

"I would never steal cookies for myself. They're for Cole, of course."

Lies. Cole liked strawberry sweets, not the chocolate ones. Well, he liked chocolate, but if she were to steal something for him, it would have strawberries in it.

She saw the chocolate ones covered in powdered sugar and couldn't help herself.

"Definitely not for me."

[azaisya]

One of my players ran a heist oneshot! So I rolled up stats for a shadow sorcerer of mine. She's also from House Roselorre, so her whole family is full of wizards and sorcerers. The shadow magic was a complete surprise to her parents and caused multiple crises so she tries not to use it too publicly

[bushelofmuses]

Creators, did she even want him to?

Okay, yes, a little.

Curiosity killed the cat and...what was the rest of that human phrase? It didn't matter at the moment; there were more important things to worry about and—that bastard.

The damn tease was a menace to society, but she sagged a little in relief once his back was to her. Myrna quietly exhaled the tension out of her and leaned more of her weight against the wall.

On the one hand, she was disappointed because she was genuinely curious to see how far he'd take their teasing—not very, apparently.

On the other, thank fuck. Him being the Inquisitor made the idea of anything happening between them a little...daunting. It would be painting a target on her back, and only make his target larger. Neither of them needed the stress right now, and they were in enough danger without it.

Trying to pester and scheme with him was more than enough at the moment.

Unfortunately, she didn't have an argument against kissing Lady Gruyere on the head as often as she did. He backed her into a corner with that one. Well, better to have just her than to have the menagerie that Cole was amassing. One nug was better than a whole pet store's worth of animals.

"Mind your shoes, bean pole," she warned instead, grinning widely; Cullen couldn't be her only prank victim. She had to purposefully avoid Jasper's shoes now until he forgot about her warning...and then she could do something to them.

Until then, she would have to come up with something else.

If anything, Jasper’s grin became predatory. He let out a breathy chuckle and leaned further forwards. Their mouths were only a breath away from each other.

“Well, I am told it’s sexier of me to be modest.”

He could do it, he thought. The line between what was joking and what was real was dangerously thin. A wrong move and he could sever what until that point had been a promising friendship. Jasper was not a stupid man and he did like Myrna.

He closed the distance but his lips pressed a kiss against the green markings on her cheek. He abruptly pulled away again, grin still firmly in place.

“If the lady needs me, she knows where to find me. Have fun kissing that creature of your’s”

And with that, he turned on his heel to walk away.

[hedwigoprah]

WIP WEDNESDAY (BECAUSE TUMBLR ATE MY FIRST DRAFT)

Thank you for the tags @thequeenofthewinter and @seaglassmelody, it’s nice trying to get back into this. *cracks knuckles* okay let’s do this. Again.

Today is a twofer because I’m trying to make up for lost time and just write whatever I feel like.

The first is a fic where Veryl and Sabriel (Sea’s Rook) are going on an adventure. So welcome to the weird and wonderful world that is the Grand Necropolis. Anything can happen here and I do mean anything.

Myrna had found her in her rooms early, early in the morning, hand delivering the note herself and throwing it into Veryl's fireplace thereafter. She had said that a particular mage kept certain hours in the Memorial Gardens and in the Infirmary. The latter meant they were more likely to encounter prying eyes and listening ears; the importance of discretion had been stressed when Veryl received the task. Apparently, the Council wasn't keen on the rest of the Necropolis knowing about the Carnivorous plant that had taken over an entire wing of the sprawling estate.

When Veryl had gone to assess what she was up against it had been a quick open and shut of the door. Indeed, beyond the large ornate doors of one of the many art exhibit halls, was a ghastly looking plant. It stood at least two stories tall and sported a large gaping maw that opened and shut, dripping with saliva as it roared into the normally cavernous space.

When a large vine had started sneaking its way around the room, searching for prey, she was sure, Veryl had closed the door. Having gathered more than enough information to determine she was in over her head, she then proceeded to bar the door with every piece of heavy furniture in the annex. By the time she was done, chairs were stood on large chests, and statues leaned precariously against them. She now had a firm grasp on why this part of the museum had been closed for refurbishment.

She had run all kinds of scenarios, trying and failing to see a plan take shape. Her entire walk to the Memorial Gardens, which had moved two lifts and an entire six chambers recently, her brain kept turning over the idea of being eaten alive. After everything she had survived thus far, she didn't want 'eaten by a giant plant' as her lasting legacy. And a story like that would outlast her, that she was sure of. Veryl shuddered just thinking about it.

This second fic is just another kiss fic because I want to make V and Emm kiss all the time. But I can’t do that without ample exposition and set up, so here we are.

“Emmrich?" Harding's voice held lines of aprehension as her voice carried up to him, the door opening and closing behind her.

He came to the edge of the landing, several books in hand, peering over his glasses as he tried to catch her roaming gaze, "Up here, Harding. What can I do for you?"

The dwarf exclaimed quietly and made quick work of the steps between them, "Alright, first off, she said to tell you she's okay." The words followed the rhythm of Harding's bounding up the stairs.

Emmrich, immediately alarmed by the words, deposited his books and his glasses atop them, on a shelf, not bothering to put anything away properly. "What's happened?" Even the first assurance of Rook's health— and he had no doubt it was Rook that Harding referred to — didn't alleviate the stress that started cinching at his lungs.

He was already pushing past her to the stairs she had just reached the top of. Where had they said they were going when the last letter came in? Was it Hossburg and then Arlathan? or was it Treviso and then to the Grand Necropolis?

"She's fine!" Harding repeated. "She's absolutely not hurt in anyway. Really, I'm not even concerned about her but she knew you would worry when she didn't show up so she told me to start with-"

"Harding, the point, please." He was already down the stairs and gathering his things. His field gear hung on a coat stand near the door and by the time Harding made it back down the stairs he was cinching his tool belt and reaching for his robes.

"Right, they're trapped in a room." Harding stated matter of factly. She very helpfully handed him extra tinctures and vials while he tried to refill any missing supplies. "In the Grand Necropolis."

"Who is they?" Emmrich had been holed up in his lab the last several days, more or less unaware of who had come and gone. He was only aware that Veryl was due back soon as per her latest missive. She was right, he would have been concered.

"Lucanis and Taash were with her. They were tracking some agent in Treviso, and then following up on a demon in the Necropolis. Something about trying to take something with three heads? Oh, I can't remember."

"Three-heads?" Emmrich tried to understand what Harding was trying to say. The words were moving faster as she continued, the sentences barely structured enough to allow for breathing.

What unexpected horrors had then encountered this time? Emmrich was sure that Veryl either had immense bad luck or some inexplicable tie to the Necrocropolis that made her a walking target; he hadn't decide which was more likely… yet.

I’m gently tagging because I don’t know who alls done what @strugglinggranola @caughtnyact @serensama @notyourmamasdeerbat @tkwritesdumbassassins @redheadsramblings please point me in the right direction if I missed your post, cause I probably did 😅

Trivia for your time: Rats can laugh. Just in case you needed another reason to be wary of rats that aren’t pets. They’ll laugh at you.

[talanashta]

Sharing Clothes

For @stevieweek's Stevie-ween prompt one "I don't know about this one, you can see my whole _____ in it!" and @strangerthingswritersguild's Kinktober SFW prompt "sharing clothes"

Rating: T | No CWs | Word Count: 513 | Pairings: Platonic Stobin Additional Tags: Transfem Steve Harrington

Summary: Stevie borrows some of Robin's clothes

Okay, maybe she was a bit obvious. Or maybe it was just because Robin was her (platonic) soulmate and could read her really well.

“You know you don’t have to ask, you can just borrow my clothes,” Robin offered, after she’d looked at her friend’s closet for the fifth time that night. “I mean, I steal yours all the time.”

Stevie sighed. “You’re smaller than me. I’m all,” and she gestured around at her broad, masculine body. “I’d just stretch them out. Or rip the seams.”

“I don’t care,” Robin told her. “Just pick something out, before I go crazy from your pining.”

Stevie pulled herself off Robin’s bed to head over to the closet. Quickly, she flipped through the things on the near side of the closet; all of those were things Robin regularly wore, and none of them were exactly her style. On the far side, though, that was a treasure trove. There were actual dresses. Dresses she’d never seen before, obviously, since she’d never seen Robin wear a dress. Ever.

“Where are these from?” she asked, holding one out for Robin to see.

“Oh, ew.” Robin cringed. “My grandma and aunt like to give me clothes for Christmas, but like… Have they ever seen me? It’s like they’ve never met me. You can have them.”

She walked over to Robin’s mirror with the dress in hand, holding it in front of her to picture what she’d look like wearing it.

Behind her, she heard Robin let out a deep sigh. “Just put it on Stevie. You know you want to.”

She paused for a long moment before tentatively asking, “You’re sure?” and immediately having to duck to dodge the pillow Robin threw at her.

“Dingus, just put the dress on.”

She sighed. “Okay.” Without pause, she started stripping her clothes off right there. There was no shame between her and Robin, and it wouldn’t be the first time one of them changed in the same room as the other. After her day-to-day “boy” clothes were ditched in a pile on the floor, she gently pulled the dress over her head.

Instantly, she felt prettier. The skirt was so swishy around her knees that she couldn’t help twisting back and forth to get it to twirl, but the top…

“That looks so good on you!” Robin said earnestly.

"Are you sure? I don’t know about this one… You can see my whole chest in it!" she responded, pulling at the deep v of the dress’s top.

"So just shave your chest," Robin said bluntly. “You look hot, Stevie. It’s not like I’m ever going to wear it. Aunt Myrna would die if she knew I gave it to you, so I especially want you to have it.”

"Why did your aunt think this was an appropriate gift anyway? It’s kind of… slutty.”

In the mirror, she could see Robin roll her eyes. “I think she thought if I started showing off more skin, I’d get a boyfriend finally.”

Stevie started cracking up. “Like that’s ever gonna happen.”

“Tell Aunt Myrna that!”

[glamorous-egoist]

Have I mentioned how much I love Whitaker?

Episode 14 under the cut.

FIRST FREE MY GIRL CASSIE SHE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! Nah but seriously that was absolute bullshit! Also I love her dad!

So our MCI wraps up, turns out David was not the shooter, but he needs help regardless, and now we have anti vaxx measles parents that seem to be the thing that’s pushing Robby past his breaking point. I wasn’t going to start with him, but hey I gotta.

First, Whitaker being the one to find Robby, I swear only him, the fact Robby was praying trying to get out of that panic attack, was just so much. Honestly who do I need to call to ensure Noah gets all the awards he deserves (and deserved for Carter) I’ve got time and patience.

But that moment was special, the line was a bit cheesy, but I loved it for Whitaker, it fits his character perfectly. Robby on the other hand is just a mess, and I’m worried, I hope it all wraps up ok. Like what a shit day. Finally him thanking Whitaker in the scene after was such a poignant moment and really shows how good of a teacher he is, just loved that scene.

Also shifting gears moment, not Robby being like “anyway ya kids won’t remember measles!” I choked.

On the flip side HOW DARE YOU HANG CASSIE TO DRY LIKE THAT! That shit was infuriating like sure ok you’re having a shit day, but fuck he let Cassie flounder and it’s not her mess to clean up it’s yours! Fuck I swear.

Speaking of old men, Abbott, I love Abbott and I called it! He would be the right mentor for Santos, he acts the same way especially with that procedure with Mohan, difference is about 20+ years of experience give or take, he’s great I want so much more from him but especially along Santos. He’s made me like her, and feel like I could keep watching if it’s her being taught by him. While Langdon is/was the oil to her water, Abbott is the right fit and I know she’d be so much more tolerable with him. Abbott also has beef with every one what a pain in the ass, love it.

I also want to say though I love Dr. Ellis she is no nonsense and just on her game, I want more of her too. She took Santos down a peg and it stuck, again I think she needs these night shift docs. Truthfully the entire night shift, send Robby to work the shift I wanna see these folks next season damn! Especially her calling out Santos for her beef with Langdon.

Langdon v Santos round 2! FIGHT! Like she was completely right to do that, but the fall out was going to be exactly this, and she knew that, but he deserved it. Anyway FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!

Honorable mentions:

Do I need to wax poetic about Mel? She’s great, I love her character and honestly the “oh that’s scary” and pulling off the gown made me laugh. It’s just the little things.

Shen, bro, stop saying it’s quiet?! God next a helicopter is going to fall from the sky 😜

Javadi and Mateo and the juice box, girl… that was not the exchange you thought it was, she’ll learn.

Also where is Myrna?!?!

JUSTICE FOR MY GIRL CASSIE!

Anyway, see you next week?

[serbarris]

Author Ask Tag

Tagged by @volkoss my answers are not going to be as eloquent or insightful but enjoy I guess lol x

All of these are going to be about my current fic At Best You'll Find A Little Remedy. Which is about Emmrich and my Rook, Calliope!!

What is the main lesson of your story?

Um, intentionally - no main lesson. I think unintentionally, it's a story of Calliope learning to trust herself, in multiple aspects of her life, also to be more trusting of others. Also I wanted to explore the romance in Veilguard a bit more, and flesh out some of the interactions with not just Emmrich but the other companions too. And finally, I wanted to inflict/show some real-time trauma for them since everyone seems slightly too well-adjusted for the Horrors they are experiencing lol.

What did you use as inspiration for your world-building?

Basically, I had a passing headcanon that Calliope was in Emmrich's class as a student, and obviously why would she not have a crush on the handsome 35-40 year old teacher? and ran with it. First I wrote I'll Crawl Home to Her as a starting place for small interactions between the main quests, and then I started to build off those small scenes that's now ballooned into this multichapter fic! Also chapter 1 of this fic was basically - what if I wrote veilguard as a romcom novel.

Also I have a list of things I wish were explored a bit more in VG, so the plotline with the huge books in the Cauldron, an earlier first kiss scene, a [redacted] fight, and can't beat just hurt/comfort and more smut :)

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help them grow as a person?

On reflection, it's a bit of free therapy writing Calliope. Even though she's a couple years older than me, she is v much a younger version of myself. I was very reclusive and introverted (still am) but she is truly the extreme of me at my worst I guess? I definitely feel like I want her to grow and show that throughout the fic - at the beginning of VG she is very much running away from her problems, as well as longing to go home. She's definitely fighting her own demons in a continent without therapy so she is Struggling, but the team do help her a lot and it's the first time she's truly been confident at calling people friends (apart from Audric and Myrna but Myrna's her boss and Vorgoth is like a quasi-uncle).

I also took the chance to explore Emmrich's POV a bit through some interludes that take place. I think Calliope has such a puppy love towards Emmrich and truly has watched him afar for many years that I wanted to punctuate Emmrich only just noticing her, and how it's a quicker descent for him (that starts out a bit more lusty). It's very fun to write Emmrich's POV chapters, his voice comes quite easily.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

Currently sitting at about 22 chapters that I'm happy with the plan for(one of those will probably be split in two so maybe 23 is the answer?) - possibly more possibly less I'm going with the flow!

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Fanfiction babeyy, on ao3, some chapters have been cross-posted to tumble (before I decided to post on ao3 as a multichapter)

When did you start writing?

I wrote a couple of fanfics back in the day when I was a teen for HP and Darren Shan - I then didn't write for years until 2019 when I started to write for my Inquisitor x OC, but I've never had the balls to write their longfic it would be intense haha. Then only picked up writing again in November after doing Calliope's playthrough!

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr?

just write!!! it's fun, it's therapy- post it or don't post it, someone out there will enjoy it, even if it's an audience of you!!

Tagging: @aymayzing @maythedreadwolftakeyou

[miladydewintcr]

Happy Friday! So first a question haha—so Viveka is not Eleri's daughter? Just bc it would fit so well with the MW backstory of being left on their doorstep, lol. Anyway I'd love to see some backstory drabble post-dao about why exactly she abandons her child and what Zevran is doing about it if he even knows? 👀

Ahh no, you're right the MW background would be perfect for it!! But no, Viveka's biological parents are v much a mystery she isn't all that invested in solving, instead she collects Authority Figures- starting with Myrna & Vorgoth and then picking up more as she goes through Veilguard.

Eleri's kid is a de Riva!! I've just gotta figure out how to get them there lol, I think I have a few rough ideas? I've just gotta settle on one and run with it!

Thank you for this prompt-- it really helped me figure out the role Zevran would play in it all in particular <3

For @dadrunkwriting

Hours, and hours, and hours. She’s exhausted, and drenched in sweat, and when she hears the baby cry out for the very first time, it takes everything in her not to reach for it.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“No.”

Garance looks up from the wailing bundle in her arms. “Are you sure?”

Eleri nods. She has to be. “Where’s my husband?”

Someone opens the door, and Zevran is by her side so quickly she can only imagine he’s been pressed up against the wall outside for a good long while. He is ready, just as they’d discussed; dressed all in black, cloak and boots with a dagger at his hip. Travelling gear.

He holds his arms out, taking the baby from Garance, and lets it settle contentedly against his chest. In another world, in another lifetime, he would’ve made a wonderful father- but not this one, and not with Eleri. Still, the way his expression softens as he looks down at it makes her heart clench with guilt.

“You are alright, yes?” he asks, looking up from the baby and in her direction for the first time.

She nods. “I’ll be back on my feet by tomorrow.”

“I might not be back by then, but I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“Just find somewhere safe.”

It’s the most she could hope for. Her lifestyle is not one a baby would fit into, and she refuses to give it up. The constant travel, the threat of darkspawn, the fighting, the Deep Roads, the inevitable siren-song of the Calling- none of it makes for a stable environment for a child. And perhaps, if she asked for it, the King and Queen of Ferelden might be able to grant her her freedom. And she would… what? Go back to Denerim, raise her baby in an alienage. Or demand Alistair give her a castle, and suffer the knowledge that such a blatant act of favouritism would win him no favours at court; for whatever sort of hero she might be, she is an elf, and such things are not easily forgotten.

This is the hand that she was dealt. The harshest of punishments; the only life she could ever imagine feeling fulfilled in. She cannot pass it on to an innocent. She doesn’t have the strength to surrender it entirely.

“Do you have anything you wish for me to leave with her?” Zevran tries. “A… letter, or a trinket, anything like that?”

Eleri had thought of that. She’s thought of everything. “Take Fang.”

Zevran nods once, and she knows he is more than aware of the weight of her response. Fang had been her mother’s, her grandmother’s, and back, back, back through generations of her family. Whatever happens, it will be something, some small thing, to connect this child with her across all the miles and through the years.

Eleri catches Zevran’s hand before he can leave. “Make sure they know not to sell it or… or take it.”

“I will ensure they know that parting our angel from her dagger will be the last thing they do,” Zevran promises, squeezing her fingers gently. “Have you named her?”

She shakes her head. “And I won’t.” The less she knows about it, the better. She hadn’t even wanted to know it was a girl.

Eleri is familiar enough with Zevran now to recognise the stiffness in his answering smile, the unnaturalness of it all. He’s holding himself together by a thread, and she hates that it’s because of her, a choice she’s made.

The baby shifts, starts to cry again, and Eleri hopes her smile is more convincing than his. “Go.”

“I love you.”

She squeezes his gloved fingers by way of response, and then releases them. And for a moment, a tiny, brief moment, she gets to see him rock their baby, offer it one of his genuine smiles, the ones that make his eyes crinkle and little dimples form on his cheeks.

And then, with a sweep of his cloak, it’s over, and they are gone.

[bushelofmuses]

@fxdewxlkxr asked: ❛ we wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for me. ❜ - For Myrna

Angst Prompts

What was she supposed to say to that? Was he expecting her to argue? To let her pride rule her and say they would have been fine without his help in that fight?

She was fucking grateful he got their asses out of that mess, her mess. She's the one that let her temper get the better of her; Myrna shouldn't have smarted off to that bandit leader. Rather than negotiating, she'd just pissed him off which instigated a fight they shouldn't have been able to win.

Cole, thankfully, was keeping his mouth shut and staying out of it. He pointedly turned his back to them and started cleaning his own knives to distract himself from whatever conversation argument may ensue. Myrna watched him a moment, grimacing when she saw the cut on his leg.

That's her fault. The fight was her fault. The whole mission was a bust because she couldn't keep her head on straight.

She hooked her daggers' hilts to her belt and then rubbed at her face before looking around at the mess that surrounded them. Bodies everywhere, most of them blown to bits by Solas. Where the fuck he got the energy for that was beyond her, but she wouldn't complain if it meant they were still standing.

Pulling a potion out, she tapped Cole on the arm with it and made him take it. He glanced between them while nervously wiping down his knife, but eventually tucked the cloth into his pocket long enough to take it from her.

"I know, Solas."

[clarklovescarole]

January 1942: Carole Laid To Rest

Gable’s Head Bowed After Wife’s Funeral — Clark Gable (in dark glasses) bowed his head in grief as he was driven away after funeral services at Glendale, California, Thursday for his wife, actress, Carole Lombard, and her mother, Mrs. Elizabeth K. Peters, who were among victims of a Nevada plane crash. In the car with him were Eddie Mannix, MGM studio executive, and Al Menasco, a close friend. 

January 22, 1942 – The San Francisco Examiner

Funeral Held For Carole Lombard

Cinema’s grief stricken land of make believe paid a final solemn tribute today to one of its most beloved actresses, Carole Lombard.

Funeral services for the beautiful blonde wife of film star Clark Gable were held in a little flowered chapel atop a grassy hill that overlooked the sprawling motion picture studios that made their names world famous. 

With her to a lasting resting place also went her mother and close companion, Mrs. Elizabeth Peters, who brought her into the world at Fort Wayne, Indiana, 32 years ago and saw her rise to the highest pinnacle of movie fame. They were among 22 persons who lost their lives in a blazing crash of a huge luxury airliner on a snow-capped Nevada mountain last Friday as the attractive and patriotic actress was returning from a government defense bond selling campaign in Indianapolis.

Private service

In accordance with Miss Lombard’s wishes, the services, which lasted less than 15 minutes, were private. They were attended only by her sorrowing husband, a few relatives and 200 of her most intimate friends. The services were the most impressive for a film celebrity since those for Jean Harlow in 1937. Officiating at the chapel services and at the mausoleum where the bodies of Will Rogers, Marie Dressler, Alexandra Pantages, Tom Mix, Florenz Ziegfeld, and other screen notables, was the Rev. Gordon C. Chapman, pastor of the Westwood Hills Community Methodist Church. 

The caskets stood in a little stone-walled chancel at the front of the chapel and were completely hidden by identical blankets of gardenias and other floral pieces. The flowery banks extended all along each side of the chapel, some of them in designs of red, white and blue flags and of a red rose V for Victory against a white petaled background.

Brief eulogy

The services consisted only of a prayer, a short eulogy by the minister and the reading of a favorite poem of Miss Lombard and Mrs. Peters, as stipulated in their wills. An organist provided the only music. Interment in the mausoleum was private. 

Among those attending the chapel services, besides Gable, were his mother, Mrs. W.H. Gable; Miss Lombard’s two brothers, Stuart and Frederick Peters, and the latter’s wife; Mr. and Mrs. Spencer Tracy, Myrna Loy and her husband, Arthur Hornblow; Mr. and Mrs. Fred MacMurray, Director Ernst Lubitsch and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. William Powell, Mr. and Mrs. Zeppo Marx, and Mary Livingstone and her husband, Jack Benny, with whom Miss Lombard made her last picture recently. 

The Rev. Mr. Chapman based his eulogy on the 14th chapter of John’s Gospel and the 23rd Psalm.

January 22, 1942 – United Press

Simple Rites For Star

Carole Lombard joined the other movie immortals in Forest Lawn Memorial Park today.

After a brief, simple service – in accordance with the wish expressed in her will – the bodies of Miss Lombard and her mother, Mrs. Elizabeth K. Peters, were interred in the green acres where are buried Marie Dressler, Will Rogers, Jean Harlow, Doug Fairbanks, Lon Chaney, Tom Mix and many another movie star.

The sealed coffin of Miss Lombard and her mother, killed in last Friday’s aerial tragedy in Nevada, were blanketed with gardenias in the Memorial church. Whether by chance or on purpose, the caskets formed a perfect V in front of the pulpit, where the Rev. Gordon C. Chapman said a prayer, read a Psalm and recited one of Miss Lombard’s favorite poems.

GABLE AT SERVICE

Grim of mouth and wearing dark glasses to cover his red-rimmed eyes, Miss Lombard’s husband, Clark Gable, sat in an ante-room late yesterday during the 10-minute service. None of the invited friends, numbering less than 50 and including Spencer Tracy, Fred MacMurray, Jack Benny, Myrna Loy and Miss Lombard’s first husband, William Powell, ever saw him. 

Miss Lombard had suggested in her will that the services be ultra simple. And simple they were. Police stopped sightseers at the bottom of the long road leading to the chapel on the top of the hill overlooking the San Fernando Valley, where Mr. and Mrs. G enjoyed what they said were the happiest years of their lives. 

Photographers remained outside the cemetery. A dozen members of the press came not only as newspapermen, but as friends and sincere mourners.

FLORAL TRIBUTES

There was no music. Miss Lombard would not have wanted it. Floral tributes, including two large United States flags made of red and white carnations and blue cornflowers, lined the chapel. None of the bouquets bore cards. The Rev. Chapman, pastor of the Westwood Community Methodist Church, said a brief prayer. He read the 23rd Psalm. Then he recited the poem, work of an unknown author. It began like this:

“My life is but a weaving 

Between my Lord and me. 

I cannot choose the colors;

He worketh steadily. 

At times he weaveth sorrow

And I in foolish pride 

Forget he sees the upper 

And I the lower side.”

HUSBAND MOURNS

With that, the Rev. Chapman said a benediction, and the mourners led by the caskets into the gray afternoon, Interment was private, with only members of the families as witnesses. Gable declined with thanks an offer from the Army for a squadron of soldiers to fire a salute in memory of Miss Lombard’s war work. 

He left the cemetery at the sunset, alone in the backseat of a rented limousine. His fans and Miss Lombard’s, numbering by now perhaps 100 at the gates, glimpse him hatless, with chin in hand, as the car purred away. 

January 23, 1942 – The Long Beach Sun

Clark Gable Present At Final Rite For Studio Publicist Winkler

Hollywood, January 22 – Representatives of every walk of life in the film colony, from police officers to studio heads, today gathered at the Church Of The Recessional for last rites conducted over the body of Otto Winkler, publicity man who perished in the plane crash which took the life of Carole Lombard and 20 others.

Clark Gable, who only yesterday attended his wife’s funeral at the same church, sat with Mrs. Winkler in the family alcove during the services conducted by Dr. James H. Lash. Walter Pidgeon, one of the actors publicized by Winkler, delivered the eulogy, while Allan Jones sang one of Winkler‘s favorite songs. 

Others in the large attendance were Louis B. Mayer, production chief of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer; Lana Turner, Rosalind Russell, Nelson Eddy, Robert Z. Leonard and many Los Angeles newsmen.

January 23, 1942 – Anderson Herald

Studio Awaits Gable Return

Hollywood, January 22 – Clark Gable will return to work as soon as he has recovered from the shock of the airplane crash death of his wife, Carole Lombard, MGM studio said today.

“We are leaving it to Clark to tell us when he is ready to resume work,” a studio official said.

Gable started a new picture “Somewhere I’ll Find You,” the day before Miss Lombard and 21 others were dashed to death high on a Nevada mountain. Today Gable attended the funeral of Otto Winkler, his studio publicity agent, who had accompanied Miss Lombard on her defense bond selling campaign in Indiana.

January 24, 1942 – Los Angeles Evening Citizen News

Will of Carole Lombard Leaves Estate to Gable

Carole Lombard left her entire estate to her husband, Clark Gable, it was announced today by W.I. Gilbert Jr., attorney. He did not disclose the amount of the estate. Simply written, the testament requested that her funeral expenses and any other indebtedness be paid in full and the remainder go to Gable. 

The will also named Gable executor of the estate. The film star was killed a week ago in an airplane crash near Las Vegas, Vegas, Nevada, while she was returning from an appearance in Indianapolis on behalf of Defense Savings Bonds. 

January 24, 1942 – Lansing State Journal

Clark Gable Seeks Solace In His Work

HOLLYWOOD, Jan. 24 - Clark Gable, turned from a swashbuckling, carefree prankster into a depressed, grief-stricken recluse by the tragic death of Carole Lombard, will seek solace in work. 

The fun-loving screen star was so anguished by loss of his beautiful blonde wife that he wanted only to be alone. Shield by studio executives, Gable has been so alone that friends became alarmed at his depressed brooding. 

Gable hasn’t yet gone to his Encino ranch where he and Carole lived so fully and joyously. He’s in seclusion at a friend’s house. He has left it only twice since he brought Miss Lombard‘s body home Wednesday morning – to attend funeral services for her and her mother, Mrs. Elizabeth K. Peters, that afternoon, and services for his friend and publicity man, Otto Winkler, Thursday. 

He was waiting at the nearby Burbank airport to greet Carole Friday night of last week when he received word of the crash which killed her, Mrs. Peters, Winkler, and 19 other persons near Las Vegas, Nevada. He flew to Las Vegas, was dissuaded from joining in the search for the bodies – then went to seclusion. Friends argued that he should plunge into work.

Told To Keep Busy

“You’ve got to find something to occupy your time; something to do with your mind besides brood,” they told him. Gable agreed to go ahead with the picture on which he had done one day’s work – “Somewhere I’ll Find You.” He didn’t set the date and the studio didn’t ask him to.

“We will wait until Gable feels that he is mentally and physically able,” a spokesman said. “He has gone through a horrible ordeal.”

There’s not a parallel case of any star losing an equally famous wife or husband so tragically and soon going back to the lots. Norma Shearer went into seclusion for a year after her producer husband, Irving Thalberg, died. She had threatened to retire.

Mary Astor was out of pictures several months after her husband, Director Kenneth Hawks, was killed in an airplane crash over the Pacific while filming a picture.

William Powell interrupted a picture to seek solace on a yacht cruise after his fiancé, Jean Harlow, died in 1936. Five weeks later, he collapsed on the set. A physician said he was exhausted and overweight from grief. Powell and the platinum blonde had been inseparable.

So had Gable and Miss Lombard.

January 25, 1942 – Army News

Roosevelt’s Tribute to Carole Lombard

LOS ANGELES, Thursday — “Mrs. Roosevelt and I are deeply distressed. Carole was our friend and our guest in happier days.” 

This message from President Roosevelt today reached Clark Gable, husband of Carole Lombard, who was killed when an airliner crashed in Nevada last week. 

“She brought joy to all who knew her and to the millions who knew her only as an artist,” the telegram continued. “She gave unselfishly of her time and talent to serve her government in peace and war. She loved her country. She is and always will be a star, one we shall never forget, nor cease to be grateful too. Deepest sympathy.”

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Okay, so the other night I fell down a rabbit hole of sorts. I found some post cards that Vincent had written to his daughter and his (ex) wife Mary. I just think they're so sweet. So I'm sharing them here. These do NOT belong to me. So I do NOT take credit. I just think they're awesome. I'll also do my best to translate in case anyone has any problem reading his writing.

This is a postcard he send to his daughter, Victoria in 1965. Look at the hearts he drew at the top!!!! Whyyyy is this so damn precious?! Moving on... It reads:

Dearest Toria - I love my Easter present - your pictures are beautiful but they make me homesick to see you. It won't be long now and we will have lots of fun when we are together again - I'll make you popovers and meat sticks in the fire and will plant a tree on your birthday and have a big cake! My movie is finally going pretty well but I wish I was doing it at home. Thanks Myrna for the letter. All my love, Daddy

This post card was sent to his ex-wife Mary in the mid 70s. By this time, he was married to Coral Browne, but remained close friends with Mary. According to their daughter, there was an inside joke to this postcard (which I never understood - but maybe it's not for me to understand :) ) it reads:

Of course I never saw it - who has? The trip to Hong Kong was endless and I've been working my tail off doing publicity, etc. But still find Hong Kong fascinating even tho it's twice as big and as crowded as before - I overlook the bay to the peninsula now nestled unhappily in a forest of skyscrapers but I hear still good. All my love, Vincent *SIGH*

This post card was sent to his daughter, Victoria and his ex wife Mary Price in February of 1975. Again, he was married to Coral Browne but remained close friends with his ex wife Mary. His daughter once said, "I was lucky that my parents remained friends after the divorce. They wanted what's best for each other and for me, which wasn't always easy because of my stepmother." Which, I could understand her stepmother's point of view, there. But still, it's insanely sweet that they remained good friends.

It reads: Dearest Tor. This is one of the fun things in the great modern museum here in Buffalo. The tour goes well but the weathers terrible. I was 8 hours late getting here but didn't miss the lecture. Love to you both, Dad.

This letter was sent to his daughter, Victoria in 1976. It reads: Dearest Torsie. On my way to Ohio to rehearse Oliver - had a nice talk with your mama who says you're having a ball - I'd love to hear from you and so am sending a couple of cards to write on- do send them in the next week or so as I'll be here until the 20th - but so will you! All love to you! Dad.

This post card was sent to his ex wife, Mary and his daughter Victoria in 1979. It reads:

Dearest M + V (Mary and Victoria) Well it slipped into town and seems to be doing very well though it's very strange management but quite legitimate - a lovely theater and set and nice people but NY audiences are not as vociferous as Denver, etc. still it's nice to be here and I love living in Gramercy park. I walk to work but taxi home. I've decided to do only a few head one nighters as it's too difficult to check everything and play it too. Still love doing it however - All Love Dad

[electronickingdomfox]

"Triangle" review

Novel from 1983, again by Sondra Marshak & Myrna Culbreath (NOO!!), and the last one they wrote (YAY!!!). Has the same elements of their previous novels: a weak, puny Kirk; an overbearing Spock; a super-powerful warrior woman and a super-powerful evil man; lots of pretentious philosophy; and at least 2145 times that someone "bowed fractionally". Though at least this time nobody seems to be naked half the book...

It's a pity, because the central theme was interesting in the beginning, before devolving into a messy melodrama.

Some spoilers ahead:

The Enterprise is carrying Ambassador Gailbraith to the planet Zaran. And as many of these Star Trek ambassadors, he becomes a real pain in the ass, once he starts assimilating crewmembers into the collective consciousness he heralds as the future of the galaxy: the Oneness. There's maybe some precedent here for Sybok's cult in Star Trek V. And some interesting insights into the conflict between individualism and the collective. Had the novel taken a more political or Trek-like approach to the conflict with the Oneness, it would have been a better novel, in my opinion. Instead, we got the fist-fights and battles between "a Chosen one" and "an evil overlord" that these authors seem to love that much.

En route towads Zaran, the ship stops to rescue a Federation Free Agent, that had just landed on a savage planet (dinosaur planet). The Free Agent is Sola Thane, a half-Zaran woman with incredible hunting skills. And, inexplicably, Kirk falls in love with her immediately, and it seems as if they were long-separated lovers that had been waiting for each other all this time, despite they having just met! If that wasn't enough, Spock also falls in love with her, and enters into pon farr mode at first sight. So once back in the ship, Sola has sex with Spock to save his life. And then she also has sex with Kirk? I'm not sure. Maybe she has sex with nobody; the narrative is so obscure at times, that I had no clue what was going on... And I said before that both Kirk and Spock fall in love with her, but it just... doesn't feel like it. It's obvious the authors just wanted to write K/S slash, and they're using Sola as a mere screen. So the whole thing seems inauthentic, with both Kirk and Spock worrying more about each other than about her, and insisting she chooses the other one. I mean, either write a female love interest, or don't write her at all. But if you choose to have her, at least give her some personality and development.

It turns out that Sola is fighting against a different brand of Oneness that has taken her planet (and soon, the entire galaxy!), and is much more malevolent: the Totality. This Totality wants her to bond with a male, since in her species, a bonded female releases powerful psychic energies. And the Totality wants to use these to amplify its control over millions of enslaved individuals. The meeting between Sola, Kirk and Spock was thus arranged by the Totality (or by Gailbraith; I can't make head or tails of it, really). Under these conditions, Kirk decides to ally himself with Gailbraith, who also opposes the Totality as a rival force, in order to better help Sola in her quest. Thus, the "Triangle" of the title doesn't refer just to the love triangle between Sola, Kirk and Spock. It's also a reference to the triangle of forces at war: the Oneness, the Totality, and individualism (represented by Kirk).

Anyway, Sola can't choose between Kirk or Spock, and seems unable to form a bond with either, so she's going to die too!! (because her species also go through a similar thing as pon farr). The leader of the Totality, Soljenov, transports then to the ship, which had been falling under its influence, and abducts Sola, Kirk and Spock, sending them to dinosaur planet. Down there, Soljenov tries to force Sola into a "mate-hunt" and rescue either Kirk or Spock, so she bonds with one. There are lots of monster-killing battles in this part, and Kirk rips his clothes (and this one is post-TMP Kirk, not TOS Kirk, though you'd never guess it by his behavior). Still Sola can't choose between both, and they decide their strenght against the Totality lies in them being a triangle, precisely.

In the last part, the three of them storm the Totality's stronghold inside a volcano. And there are some Dragon Ball fights with bolts of psychic energy and such. Sola has to choose again between rescuing Kirk or Spock from a couple of ledges over molten lava. But it doesn't matter, because she saves both, and then goes on to sacrifice herself for the galaxy (predictably). A "power of love" speech also makes both the Totality and the Oneness to reconsider their plans of conquest. Ah! McCoy had also arrived in the volcano, but he does nothing, as is his custom in the novels of this pair.

Spirk Meter: 10/10*: No love triangle can disguise the real intentions behind this story. Kirk and Spock share a mind bond, their close relationship is legendary even among strangers, and McCoy reflects that the two men have "virtually become one". Kirk also says that he's the best expert on Spock in the galaxy. And both of them try to sacrifice themselves to save the other more times than I cared to count. In one scene, Spock comes to the rescue, when Gailbraith mind-melds with Kirk and starts assimilating him. And (jealously) replaces Gailbraith's link with his own, while calling Jim "t'hy'la".

There's a little Spones and McKirk too. McCoy lies about his psychic sensibility, and even if he'd never admit it, he's said to "bask" in Spock's mental energies. We're also informed that McCoy knows Kirk's mind and body better than his own... Just how physical get those physicals, Doctor?

[reinato]

Devocional da Mulher VOCÊ É PRECIOSA

O amor é Deus

Quem não ama não conhece a Deus, pois Deus é amor. […] E nós conhecemos o amor e cremos neste amor que Deus tem por nós. Deus é amor, e aquele que permanece no amor permanece em Deus, e Deus permanece nele. 1ª João 4:8, 16

Hoje de manhã, quando li o texto bíblico que diz que “Deus é amor”, pensei na frase ao contrário. “O amor é Deus.” Quando Deus é revelado sob a ótica do amor, qual é a imagem que fazemos Dele? Leia novamente comigo o famoso capítulo sobre o amor em 1ª Coríntios 13, e troque a palavra amor por Deus:

Ainda que eu fale as línguas dos homens e dos anjos, se não tiver [Deus], serei como o bronze que soa […], ainda que eu tenha tamanha fé, a ponto de transportar montes, se não tiver [Deus], nada serei.

E ainda que eu distribua todos os meus bens entre os pobres […] se não tiver [Deus], isso de nada me adiantará.

[Deus] é paciente e bondoso. [Deus] não arde em ciúmes, não Se envaidece, não é orgulhoso, não Se conduz de forma inconveniente, não busca os Seus interesses, não Se irrita, não Se ressente do mal.

[Deus] não Se alegra com a injustiça, mas Se alegra com a verdade.

[Deus] tudo sofre, tudo crê, tudo espera, tudo suporta.

[Deus] jamais acaba…

Agora, pois, permanecem a fé, a esperança e [Deus], estes três; porém o maior deles é [Deus] (v. 1-8, 13).

Ao colocarmos a passagem dessa maneira, certamente somos lembradas de que sem Deus não somos nada. Não temos amor, nem luz, nem vida longe Dele.

Somos chamadas a andar como Jesus andou, o que não é possível para nossa natureza humana. O texto de 1ª João 4:16-18 apela para que nós confiemos “nesse amor”, enquanto Deus vive em nós – para nos completar e nos fazer iguais a Ele – “para que no dia do juízo tenhamos confiança, porque neste mundo somos como Ele. No amor não há medo” (NVI).

Jesus não estava com medo enquanto enfrentava Seu julgamento e a crucifixão, para enfrentar o nosso juízo e sofrer a punição que nós merecíamos. Em vez disso, o coração Dele estava cheio de amor pelos Seus discípulos e Sua mente estava pensando nas gerações futuras que creriam Nele por causa do testemunho dos apóstolos (João 17:20). Na oração de despedida por todos nós, Jesus prometeu que o amor do Pai estaria em nós e que o próprio Jesus habitaria em nós (v. 26). Cristo quer nos amar e habitar em nós, a fi m de nos preparar para confiar Nele no Dia do Juízo. Não tenha medo! O amor de Deus que habita em nós nos dá poder para sermos amáveis como Jesus.

Myrna L. Hanna

[autumncottageattic]

From the Terrace is a 1960 American romantic drama film based on the 1958 novel of the same name by John O'Hara. The film stars Paul Newman, Joanne Woodward, Myrna Loy, Ina Balin, George Grizzard, and Leon Ames, with a young Barbara Eden appearing in one scene.

The plot tells the story of the estranged son of a Pennsylvania factory owner who marries into a prestigious family and moves to New York to seek his fortune.

Part V

[the-down-upside-finch]

Find the Word (Tag Game)

DOING ANOTHER ONE BECAUSE I CAN! Ping-ponging off of @k-v-briarwood's post, my words this time are proud, glass, shine, and young.

This time I'mma use my WIP, Stained Integrity! (Managed to keep it relatively spoiler-free with a few minor tweaks haha) Here we go:

Proud

“You should get some sleep while you can,” Clover said. “No, no—I need to keep watch in case--” “I thought you trusted the crew.” “Trust has nothing to do with it, my dear.” Laurie made his way to the door. “I’ll be all right. I’ve gone without sleep before.” “That’s not something you should be proud of.” “Did I say that I’m proud of it?” Laurie’s fingers brushed over the door handle. “Really, my dear—you worry too much.” “I worry too much?” A laugh escaped Clover. “You’re the one that’s about to stay up all night because you’re worried something bad will happen!” “…Touché.” Laurie lightly chuckled. “I’ll see you in the morning, darling.” “Don’t you dare walk out of this room.”

Glass

“Oy—what’s this fuss about accents?” Myrna scoffed, coming up from behind LeRoy. “Just listen to him!” the lady cried, pointing at LeRoy. “That unrefined commoners’ talk has no place here!” LeRoy looked like he’d been slapped. “LeRoy,” the prince started to say. “Now see here--” Myrna began at the same time. LeRoy abruptly got to his feet. “You don’t want me here? Fine.” He picked up his other drink and knocked it back, noisily slamming the empty glass on the table as he set it down. “I don’t feel like putting up with your kind of shit right now—so it’s your lucky day.” With that, he pushed in his chair and strode toward the exit.

Shine

“How,” Ser Hunter said to Myrna, “in Stell’s name did you make that happen?” He gestured across the ship towards the prince and metalsmith’s lively conversation. “Simple,” Myrna replied. “I told Blondie to ask the prince about frogs.” “Oh, of course—why didn’t I think of that?” Ser Hunter chuckled. “He really took a shine to His Highness, despite his… temperament, didn’t he? But still—I hope you warned that commoner what he’s in for.” “Will you stop with your ‘that commoner’ nonsense?” Myrna scoffed. “I’m sure he would prefer that you use his name.” “Myrna.” Ser Hunter stifled a sigh. “I’m just calling a spade a spade. He’s a commoner. Or would you rather I call His Highness by his name, too?” “That’s different—and you know it.” “No, I really don’t see how it’s any different.” Ser Hunter folded his arms. “You call His Highness ‘the prince’ and I call the lowborn ‘the commoner.’ Now, tell me how those two things are different.”

Young

“What exactly are you implying, Dame Starspear?” Captain Lael quietly said. “I’m implying nothing,” she replied. “But I’m telling you that there is a high likelihood that someone was nearly murdered on the night of Stell’s Rise.” “Someone nearly was murdered,” Ser Blaine spat, rising to his feet. “There is a young woman lying unconscious in her chambers, being tended to by our best healer, right now, as we speak.” “Oh, goody,” Master Malina sarcastically said, rolling her eyes. “I was hoping that would be the case.” “Your foreign sense of humor is not one that we appreciate,” Ser Blaine snapped. “Well, I don’t particularly care what you think,” Master Malina breezily responded. “What is the nature of the injuries that the young woman sustained?”

Do I get extra points for the doubles? /j

Aaaannnd I'mma tag (with no pressure!) @card-queen, @lordcatwich, @maskedemerald, @da-na-hae, @fire-but-ashes-too, and leave the tag open for anyone else that wants to join! (If you wanna ping-pong this back, @k-v-briarwood, you are totally welcome to, but I won't make you haha)

I'll give you guys the words snap, slump, deny, and moment!

[thisfunktional]

YOUR FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS's Actress talks about unique roles in career (92 of 365) by Thisfunktional Jesus Figueroa, @Thisfunktional of ThisFunktional.com, talks with actress Myrna Cabello about her role in YOUR FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS and some incredible roles in her past. Cabello talks about being part of season 1 of YOUR FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS, her time on WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS, her role in ORANGE IS THE NEW BLACK, and more about her career. via YouTube. Watch, share, like, and subscribe: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sAZKJH2CW7U