#heart herning

[personinthepalace]

pic 7 has my heart on fire - Edward Bluemel

from Abbie Hern’s instagram

[msfcatlover]

I still think, to this day, that Naomi Herne almost had a very different statement.

I think that Evan Lukas was, in fact, a full-fledged Lonely avatar. But Evan's method was finding people who say they'd rather be alone, entering their lives as their perfect, ideal person (romantic or otherwise), involving them with his personal social circle, and then cutting them off. Letting them have a taste of what they were missing, enough to realize they could be happier, enough to realize just how alone they are, enough to show them how much better their life could be, before leaving them adrift exactly the same way they were before... but left so, so much more miserable now that they've lost all that. Made all the worse because they remember a time they would be perfectly content in these circumstances, but now it's not enough anymore, but they still don't have the confidence or social skills to go find friends of their own a lot of the time. The aspect of the Lonely that is realizing you've been lonely all along, a misery you didn't even recognize because you never knew anything else, and now your whole life looks like endless, rolling grey.

Evan started on Naomi. But then he fell in love. He couldn't follow through, he couldn't let her go. He loved her too much to hurt her. She made him want to stop, made him want to be better. Made him want to be as human as he could for the most wonderful person he'd ever had the good fortune to meet.

Made him finally, after years & years being raised a Lukas, not feel Lonely anymore. His own trap turned back on him.

And then he starved to death.

[yharnamesque]

I have now lost three cats in three months, would the universe like to throw anything else my way while we're at it

[travsd]

James A. Herne: "The American Ibsen"

Time was, all American theatre-goers knew the name of James A. Herne (James Ahearn, 1839-1901), not just a few scholars. Herne ranks with figures like Dion Boucicault and Steele MacKaye in the ranks of America’s top pre-O’Neill playwrights. After O’Neill, theatre people tended to sneer at these earlier figures but in recent decades their reputations have been partially restored if only for the…

[spacedace]

Dannys graduation class is especially liminal thanks to the portal and frequent ghost encounters/ Their overshadowing. Which means, that they subconsciously prefer places with high ecto ambience.

Gotham University already had their fair share of students from amity park, one of the only people outside from Gotham who would actually stay for the duration of their studies (thanks to them being used to ghost shenanigans). But this year its more than usual + even for Gothamites these Amity Parkers seem to be rather unhinged.

(I just need more liminal!Amity Parker shenanigans :D and thanks to WE Gotham has great scholarships available)

I had a lot of fun with this one! Thank you for the prompt!

-

Robert’s hands shook as he brought the chalk to the blackboard, letter’s jagged and words illegible as he attempted to write the day’s lesson down.

Behind him was a silence beyond what the human mind was ready to comprehend. A room full of people, the sense of others in the room, and yet utter stillness. No soft scratch of pencils on paper, gentle taps of nails upon keyboards, no shifting of bodies or crinkling of snacks or soft murmur of voices of those at the back of the lecture hall whispering to each other.

It was something Professor Robert Herne hadn’t truly noticed before this semester. How much noise humans made even when they were sitting very quietly. Little things the brain filtered out so terribly noticeable until it was gone. The almost imperceptible hush of breaths. The absent hum of a chorus of heartbeats. Things you didn’t realize you were used to hearing until they were suddenly, horribly gone.

The chalk broke beneath his hand.

The students sat in impossible, unbearable stillness, watching him.

They were always watching him.

Unblinking eyes, fathomless and deep and knowing knowing knowing. They looked at him and saw. Empty voids that threatened to swallow him whole if he made the mistake of meeting their terrible, all consuming gazes.

His hand shook harder, the broken chalk in his hold crumbling to fine dust. His breathing came harder, heart pounding. Behind him figures stretched long, twisting and unnatural, more and more unblinking eyes opening to stare at him, mouths stretching, faces warping, skin mottling to impossible shades, sharp teeth and pointed ears. Still as death, unmoving, he could feel the weight of them pressing down upon him from all sides and, and, and -

He screamed.

-

Miriam Schuster, Dean of Gotham University, sat with her head in her hands at her desk. Outside on the quad yet another of the school’s professors was being carried away on a stretcher, screaming and frantic as his class of students all milled about worried for him at a distance.

Herne was the third one in the past month.

Amity kids, she swore, they got weirder and weirder every year. And unlike some members of the University staff, she was qualified to say that. She was an Amity Park kid once upon a time, she knew her home town was weird. Even before the ghost stuff started happening they had a reputation for being odd. She’d certainly creeped out more than a few of her own professors over the years as a student, and still put some people on edge whenever she forgot to make an active effort to appear more…for lack of a better word, normal.

This year’s batch was weird even by her standards though. Far more ecto-contaminated than the students that had joined the university in previous years and it showed. The entire non-Amity half of several courses had dropped in the first week of the semester. They’d had more dorm-room transfer requests than they’d ever seen before. TAs were refusing to work in classes that had Amity Parkers in them. And the professors…

Herne gave another scream of terror outside, shrieking about silence and eyes and being watched. Miriam sighed again.

The professors were not able to cope with the freshmen class at all.

Scrubbing her face in her hands, Miriam leaned back in her seat and looked down at the papers spread out before her. Transfer paperwork to group all the new batch of Amity kids into the same classes so that they weren’t quite so spread around. Keep them contained, as much as it was possible to do so. The problem with having them all in one place though was that the effect of them being so…well, Amity, was far more intense. Which left her with the question of just who she was going to be able to get to teach these classes.

Gotham was more up to Amity Parker strangeness than just about anywhere else - outside of Amity itself of course - and even the Gothamites where having trouble keeping up. It was going to take a special kind of person to be able to handle them.

Miriam glanced out her window again to where the ambulance was trundling away with Herne aboard to Arkham. The civilian mental facilities hadn’t been up to the kind of psychosis caused by direct contact with this year’s batch of Amity Parkers.

Hmm, she considered. That might be an idea.

She’d have to make some phone calls.

-

“Alright settle down! I know you’re all a rowdy bunch, but I’m gonna need yous to sit pretty for me for the next hour so we can go over the new syllabus.”

To anyone else, there wouldn’t have been any kind of perceptible difference to the utter stillness of the room. The rows of seated students were as still and motionless as they’d ever been, not even their chests seeming to move as they sat and stared, unblinking.

The new professor smiled widely. “Thank you! And hear I heard yous were all a bunch of troublemakers, ha!” A deft hand snatched up a piece of chalk, drawing large looping letters on the board with plenty of flourishes. “Welcome to Psych 101! You can all call me Professor Quinzel!”

Harley spun to face her class, smiling brightly at the eager gleam in the eyes of her new students.

The class, with eyes a little too bright and teeth a little too sharp and shapes a little too wrong when viewed from the corner of the eye all smiled back brightly. It was such a relief to finally have a professor that actually had her shit together.

[medievalandfantasymelee]

THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE

QUALIFYING ROUND: 136th Tilt

Uhtred of Bebbanburg, The Last Kingdom (2015-2022) VS. Robin Hood, Robin of Sherwood (1984)

Propaganda

Uhtred of Bebbanburg, The Last Kingdom (2015-2022) Portrayed by: Alexander Dreymon

“He's your quintessential fantasy hero, the embodiment of rugged hotness! What's more, he's a complex, flawed character - courageous, smart and trustworthy but also arrogant, impulsive and stubborn, which makes him more realistic and adds to his overall appeal. He's far from perfect, but good at heart, someone you could trust with your life. And look at his blue eyes :) What's not to like?”

Robin Hood, Robin of Sherwood (1984) Portrayed by: Michael Praed

“Perhaps no one ought to be able to carry off an '80s haircut of that sheer exuberance, and YET. Dark eyes you could drown in, cheekbones that could cut glass, and the right amount of mischief and vulnerability for an excellent Robin Hood. This is to say nothing of the long, dexterous fingers that I have definitely spent too much time thinking about. Anyway! He is lithe, beautiful, a little bit rakish, absolutely devastatingly hot.”

Additional Propaganda Under the Cut

Additional Propaganda

For Uhtred of Bebbanburg:

"If you want a textbook example of a hot medieval guy, Uhtred is IT. Alexander Dreymon is like, flawless from head to foot; gorgeous icy blue eyes, long lashes etc. and on top of all that Uhtred is just, such a likeable character. Short tempered? Sure, but humorous, just, fair-minded and loyal as well."

[Gifset]

[Gifset]

For Robin Hood:

“Amazingly great hair for someone living in a forest as an outlaw (but we're not complaining), and with eyes as green as a forest glade, this slim, fey Robin was a Saxon peasant who was ready to be a figurehead for the people of England who needed hope to endure under their Norman overlords. He accepted the role of the forest god Herne the Hunter and a legend was born.”

[badassindistress]

[Read it on AO3]

Pardoned Highwaywoman’s eyes shine like stars It is this publication’s great honour to announce that Nell Jackson, dashing rogue and reported highwayman, has been pardoned by Her Majesty the Queen herself. Not only that, but Her Majesty saw fit to award the brave adventurer the position of Head of the Queen’s Royal Bodyguard for her astonishing feats of gallantry. This honour our rakishly charming highwaywoman humbly declined, with an inspiring speech that made the audience’s collective heart flutter with the force of unsung hopes and lovelorn dreams. Nell Jackson, unlike previously reported, is a kind and courageous soul whose only sin is inspiring hopelessly tender love in any innocent maiden she might encounter.

You may wonder, kind reader, how this editor has such intimate, such complete knowledge of such a famous personage as Nell Jackson, the woman reported to have the Devil’s tongue and a gaze so terrible she can turn the bravest man into a mere syllabub, quivering in his inadequacy? Wonder no more, dear reader, for I shall tell all. It was I, Miss Polly Honeycombe, newest editor to this very publication, youngest protégé of the Lady Eularia  Moggerhanger, the well-known pioneer of the printed word, who was the very young maiden who was kidnapped in a dastardly plot to catch Nell Jackson and prevent her from saving Queen and country and bringing justice and beauty to all the land. It is a thrilling tale that will exclusively unfold in this very publication in but a few days hence, but I will lift the veil and tell you some inspiring facts to whet your appetite for Truth and Justice.

Some have claimed that Nell is a soulless highwayman, that she delights in murder, that's she is Unnatural. Any who have claimed this must look to their own soul in shame. These vile rumours were spread by the very men who gloried in the crimes Nell was accused of.

It was the Earl of Poynton, a member of the Queen’s Privy Council, who, shock of shocks, was a Jacobite. He had summoned Herne the Hunter, who Nell Jackson so courageously slew, and it was he whose machinations caused the deaths of Lord Blanchford and Nell Jackson’s own excellent father.

So let me set the record straight, kind reader. When one meets Nell Jackson, one is not confronted with the terrifying visage of a devil. No, when one encounters Nell Jackson, one feels more a shiver of anticipation, fear melding deliciously with the sense that, finally, one's life has truly begun. While one might fear for one's possessions, will have to bear, for example, the loss of a favourite raspberry silk gown, one will gain instead a sense of purpose, of divine direction, of the high honour it is to be part of Nelly's journey.

In this editor’s humble opinion, there is no safer place than at Nell Jackson's side, an opinion I am joined in by none other than Her Majesty, elevating mere opinion practically to divine law.

Nell Jackson is an angel with a shining soul, put on this earth to protect the meek and challenge the unrighteous. Her goodness glows from her shining complexion and resounds in her every righteous proclamation. She is not Devil Nell, she is an Angel and all who are fortunate enough to have met her know it. So when next your carriage take the high road, take heart, for Nell Jackson is looking out for you.

Ed. Miss P. Honeycombe

[usafphantom2]

Bob Pardo, Vietnam War pilot famous for Pardo’s Push maneuver, dies at 89

Jonathan Snyder

Retired Air Force Lt. Col. Robert Pardo is known for carrying out an unorthodox aviation maneuver, later coined the Pardo Push, to save the lives of his wingmen during a bombing mission over Vietnam on March 10, 1967.

Retired Air Force Lt. Col. Robert Pardo is known for carrying out an unorthodox aviation maneuver, later coined the Pardo Push, to save the lives of his wingmen during a bombing mission over Vietnam on March 10, 1967. (David Cooper/U.S. Air Force)

Bob Pardo, who left his mark in Air Force history for using an unorthodox maneuver, Pardo’s Push, to save his wingmen’s lives during a bombing mission over Vietnam, died Dec. 5. He was 89.

On March 10, 1967, Pardo and weapons officer 1st Lt. Steve Wayne were on a bombing run on an enemy steel mill north of Hanoi in an F-4C Phantom, flying alongside Capt. Earl Aman and 1st Lt. Robert Houghton.

The target — North Vietnam’s only steel mill dedicated to war materiel — was heavily guarded by anti-aircraft guns and artillery.

During the mission, ground fire damaged both Pardo’s and Aman’s Phantoms, causing both to lose fuel. However, Aman lost too much to return safely to base, and Pardo knew he had to act quickly, according to a 2007 recounting of the mission by Gen. T. Michael Mosely, then the chief of staff of the Air Force.

“I knew if I didn’t do anything, they would have to eject over North Vietnam into enemy territory, and that would have resulted in their capture for sure,” Pardo said in a 2015 interview for the Air Force Veterans in Blue program. “At that time, if you were captured by civilians, you were probably going to be murdered on the spot.”

Pardo decided to push Aman’s plane using the nose of his aircraft against Aman’s tailhook, a retractable hook on the underside of the plane used for arrested landings.

He managed to decrease the rate of descent of Aman’s jet by 1,500 feet per minute, and they successfully reached friendly territory. Both air crews safely ejected over the Laotian border and were rescued by friendly forces.

Retired Air Force Lt. Col. Robert Pardo died Dec. 5 at 89. (David Cooper/U.S. Air Force)

The Air Force at first reprimanded Pardo for further damaging his aircraft. Twenty years later, he received the Silver Star for his actions in the aerial rescue.

Pardo was born in 1934 in Herne, Texas, and began his Air Force career in 1954 at age 19. After flight school, he flew the Phantom during the Vietnam War, logging 132 flying missions.

He retired as a lieutenant colonel in 1974. In addition to the Silver Star, his awards include the Distinguished Flying Cross with Oak Leaf Cluster, Purple Heart, Air Medal with twelve Oak Leaf Clusters and the Meritorious Service Medal.

Pardo is survived by his wife, Kathryn, whom he married on March 7, 1992, five children and 10 grandchildren.

@AviationHistGal via X

[thatpodcastkid]

Magnus Archives Relisten, MAG 13 Alone

If a ghost tells you to turn left in a forest, and no one's around to hear it, do you still get hit by a car? My apologies to Ms.Herne for the tasteless and offensive humor. MAG 13 analysis, spoilers ahead!

Facts: Statement of Naomi Herne regarding the funeral of her fiancé Evan Lukas. Statement given January 13, 2016.

Statement Notes: RIP Evan Lukas. RIP king. You would have loved Bo Burnham's Inside.

It's so exciting to have our first live statement. The beginning of the episode stands out because it establishes that the digital recorders not only fail frequently, but at specific times. It is likely that by this point Jon understands the tape recorders must be used for the "real" statements.

Naomi's behavior at the beginning of the episode is also a bit strange. For one, she states that a paranormal investigator laughed at her for suggesting the Magnus Institute. I've always found it odd that investigators like Melanie mock the institute or find it illegitimate because they are an academic institution. They do extensive research, have significant funding, and even though they don't actively interfere in paranormal occurrences, they appear to be conducting and publishing legitimate studies. Why are they disregarded so often?

Naomi also appears actively antagonistic towards Jon. She needs his help, yet still ices him out. This is exemplative of her unconcious commitment to remain alone. Even when she asks him to stay while she gives the statement, she doesn't form any connection with him.

The religious aspects of this episode are so profound. Herne had found solace in religion her whole life. The only person she aside from Lukas and her mother that she could form a connection with was her priest. Yet, in her moment of desperation and fear, when she seeks shelter in the church, the door is locked. Her priest had advised Naomi to bond with others, and while she does get close with Evan, she doesn't actually make more friends and instead depends on religion to give her a sense of connection. But religion alone couldn't help her when everything fell apart.

The idea of being locked out from your religion is also particularly powerful. Being metaphorically and literally locked out of her religion amplified Naomi's loneliness and drove her further into misery.

Lukas' death, while not necessarily supernatural, has this particularly stinging bit of symbolism. A man from a strongly connected yet chronically isolated dies of a genetic broken heart.

The "turn left" line is frightening because I can't pinpoint where it came from. There seems to be a few possibilities:

A) It actually was the dead Evan Lukas. His ghost was using the car crash to jar her out of the Lonely and save her. This insinuates that he wasn't killed by an illness, but by his family or at least some aspect of the Lonely which absorbed him.

B) Evan Lukas had been killed/absorbed by the Lonely, but he wasn't the one warning Naomi. The Lonely had taken and brainwashed him, compelling him to force Naomi towards the car in an attempt to kill her.

C) Evan Lukas' ghost was stuck in the Lonely, and in an uncontrolled spiritual state, thought killing Naomi could reunite them and free him from loneliness.

C) It wasn't Evan Lukas or his spirit, but a manipulation of his voice by the Lonely/the Lukas family to kill Naomi for invading their space and taking one of them away.

Entity Alignment: Pretty much in the title. Great introduction to the Lonely, really gets to both the heart of the fear and the methods it uses.

Some people have mentioned the elements of the Buried in this episode because of the open coffins, and while I do think it's present, these coffins are more so an extension of the Lonely. In the cemetery, Naomi is not afraid of being buried alive or of dying, but of dying alone. Hence the gravestone she carries out with her reading "Forgotten."

I also noticed Jon's Eye abilities beginning to develop in this episode. While he certainly isn't compelling Naomi to speak, he is certainly leading her. Naomi is mad at him, she doesn't want to speak, but his mention of the stone and attempt to diffuse the situation with a joke urge her to give the statement.

Character Notes: This introduction to the Lukases is very frightening. Very classic "isolated rich family" horror, but taken to another level because the isolation is the fear, not just a storytelling device.

[firenati0n]

wip wednesday <3 :)

hello :) i completely forgot to post i am so sorry asjdflajsljfd thank you to @bigassbowlingballhead @priincebutt @anincompletelist @tintagel-or-cockleshells @itsmaybitheway @tailsbeth-writes @captainjunglegym @wordsofhoneydew @gayrootvegetable @theprinceandagcd @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @myheartalivewrites @sophie1973 @littlemisskittentoes @suseagull04 @zwiazdziarka @onthewaytosomewhere @tinyarmedtrex for the tags!!

here's a graphic AND a snip from crack fic #3 Herny Mountana (title pending adjfklajsldk something from a hannah montana song most likely). hope you enjoy. or don't. herny lives on either way.

graphic from the illustrious @anincompletelist my queen my icon my love my everything

snip:

Henry looks at Pez and Shaan in alarm—a break? He’s never taken a break before. He doesn’t even know what that would look like. Popstars don’t take breaks—they tour and record and film and strut until either their heart or their feet give out.  Shaan nods encouragingly. “I agree, and have cleared your schedule for a two-week retreat in Montana. Maybe some fresh air and mountains will do you good, Henry. Bring back the Fox, retire the Mountana for a bit. Hang up the wig. Herny Mountana takes Montana.” Something’s sticking in the back of Henry’s mind, making it hard for him to focus. He turns to the doctor. “How did you know about my world tour and schedule?” The doctor unbuttons his jacket, revealing a FEEL THE HERN tour shirt underneath. “My daughter and I are fans, I was actually at the concert tonight. You were radiant, as usual.” Henry gestures to Shaan, making a writing motion in the air. Shaan hands him a Sharpie and a poster.  “Here, for you and your daughter.” Henry signs the poster, adding a little note at the bottom that says, thank you for saving my life <3 my hero! “So your daughter will know who’s the real legend in the house.” There are tears shining in the doctor’s eyes. 

xoxo roop

open tag bc it's late as hell but i love y'all and herny loves you too <3 xx

[screaming-universe]

*breaks through wall*

Hi

🐺🐺🐺🐈🐈🐈✨✨✨🌌🌌🐉🐉🐉

( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

Hi! :3c (make me write game)

🐺 Werewolf Hunters

Herne, it turned out, had volunteered Eddie as unwilling participant for the net-throwing practice of the hunters in training. Eddie did not want to hate them—they were children after all, maybe sixteen at most—but it was hard. Some of them looked at him with fear, the lies of their elders making him a monster to them. Some of them looked at their trainers with fear and Eddie wanted to do nothing more than get them out of here. Some of them though positively leered at him and Eddie was suddenly glad for the guards posted on the kennel room. It had never occurred to him that they might be there to keep Buck and Tommy and him inside, but also overzealous hunter trainees outside. "Ryan, no weapons, we need them alive for now!" Herne yelled at a boy who stared at Eddie in a way that made his skin itch and who held a net and spear up as if this was a gladiator fight in Ancient Rome. Buck had once gone a research deep dive on the different kinds of gladiators and told Eddie all about it during a slow shift. Retiarius, Eddie recalled. That kind of gladiator fought with a net and a trident and Ryan came pretty close to it.

🐈 Werecat AU

"Hey Tommy," Buck found himself saying one evening. They were in bed, Tommy spooning him, and Buck was so comfortable that he would have fallen asleep already if it hadn't been for the thought haunting his mind. He had almost forgotten about it but the afternoon they spent with the Diazes and seeing Eddie and Tommy all up in each other's space like that; until there was no space between them left, had dragged it back to the front of his mind. "Y-You said that you weren't sure it's over."Tommy just made a confused noise and pulled Buck even tighter against him. It was dirty move that was bound to make Buck melt against him and usually let him fall asleep quickly. But not tonight. "Wha-d'you mean?" Tommy mumbled against Buck’s neck when he'd woken up some more after Buck remained tense in his arms. "You said you weren't sure it's over," Buck repeated, heart racing for some reason. "The courtship between me and Eddie." "Oh Evan," Tommy sighed against his neck and placed a quick kiss right there, "that's not a conversation I'd chosen to have in the middle of the night."

✨ Space AU 1

Being called like this to appear in front of his parents was basically its own dark omen: nothing good had ever come of it. Nothing good had ever come of any interaction with his parents, a dark part of Buck’s brain whispered and today he wasn’t inclined to disagree. He was ushered into his mother’s study and there sat his parents: Lady Margaret and Lord Philip of House Buckley. Buck would rather be anywhere else. “Evan!” his mother said with the fakest smile she had ever managed. “We have secured a marriage for you!” He could feel the blood freeze in his veins but with the very next sentence his mother stopped his heart. “You will be courting Lord Edmundo of House Diaz when the next season begins.” Edmundo—Eddie—Diaz? The man he had been sneaking around with—quite literally—because their love was forbidden? Or at least he had thought it was. Buck let out a slightly hysterical giggle before he could suppress it fully.

🌌 Space AU 2

Hen was working another shift in the med bay with Chim when she—Chimney’s neighbour, Karen—walked in. She still was a mystery: when Hen looked at her directly, all she saw was a woman. Not that Hen was complaining because Karen was certainly a woman Hen liked to look at. But out of the corner of her eye Hen could sometimes catch a sparkle that no human should emit. Trying to figure out what Karen’s deal was had led nowhere so far, at least not by just looking. And Chimney had only shrugged and grinned when Hen had shared her observations. He had been no help at all. “She’s an astrophysicist,” he had said instead, as if that would explain anything. “I think you might get along really well.”

🐉 Would you still love me if I was a wyrm?

The vest, as much as Eddie hated to admit it, did have some advantages. It kept the medal safe, for one. Buck had taken one look at him clutching the now much bigger - at least to him - medal to his chest with both hands, and then picked up a leather cord and cut it to the right length. When he'd put out his hand, Eddie had immediately dropped the medal into it and he was rewarded for it by the new necklace that he now wore. Usually though he wore it under his uniform and there it was safe. Now he had a new kind of uniform, he supposed. And as much as he disliked the way the neon yellow looked against his copper scales, he would never have set fire to it when nobody was looking. Because this vest had Buck's handwriting all over it. Eddie did not know how he had missed it but after all the excitement of the day he had passed out curled up in Buck's lap pretty early when Buck had sat down with- oh. When Buck had sat down with the boxes he had some sewing equipment and fabric in. And he'd asked to measure Eddie before that but Buck was a curious guy and so he hadn't questioned it.

I'd like to thank my beta Buff who I just throw the snippets at and who saves me from confusing save and safe allkjkdfdj

[itwasallstaged]

Week of August 23rd: Bellringers

Bellringers, by Daisy Hall, is a masterclass in world-building and suspense. From the first moment of the play, I found myself deeply intrigued by the mystery of it all and the dynamic between the characters on stage. I could listen to these two talk to one another for days. They have lives that feel rich and lived, which adds to the moving relationship that Aspinall and Clement share. While the play and its characters are often(and to varying levels of success on the characters' parts) taking light-hearted attitudes towards the situations there is a strong overtone of misery draped over every page. This play is always concerning and engaging and at times gutwrenching. All of these emotions are conveyed beautifully by the writing. Additionally, Hall gives room for, and practically demands, abundant creativity in both set, lighting, and sound design, which I can only imagine would add to the unforgettable experience of seeing this play would be. A must-read for any theatre enjoyers.

Bellringers paperback cover art via Nick Hern Books

[caffeinated-and-annoying-bard]

i've been thinking of writing a stardew valley au of the magnus archives with martin as the farmer and jon as some misanthrope researcher living maybe on a flat above the library instead of gunther (perhaps he's researching the strange monsters that appear in the mines and you don't see nearly anywhere else in the world...)

if i were to write it, i think it would be fun to replace canon sdv characters with tma characters, wouldn't it? maybe sasha as maru, perhaps renting a room in the house in the mountains from robin (assuming i don't change her for, say, gertrude? eric and gerry could be there as well. perhaps the house is gertrude's but eric is her assistant– or her son and gerry her actual grandson– and has taken over some of the manual work with her aging, and gerry as sebastian?)

perhaps helen and michael could be there instead of emily and haley? trevor and daisy (julia is in a band now. good for her.) could run the adventurer's guild and daisy could be in shane's place (see: recovering from addiction/unhealthy habits as a parallel to the hunt) perhaps she'd be physically disabled in some way, that would be an explanation as to why the mines are not purged from monsters overnight (can you tell i love daisy)?? basira could be in marnie's place and helping daisy recover while she recovers herself? :)

tim and danny as sam and vincent, with danny as an older vincent but younger than canon danny, perhaps?? waiting for their father or mother or both to return from the war with the gotoro empire? (maybe he had always lived there, moved to a bigger city for a while and returned when the war started. maybe he, sasha and jon are working for the same long-term monster researching project. wouldn't it be nice if martin just came bumbling around one day and drastically started indirectly improving their research productivity with his sdv farmer endeavors?? the four of them engaging in shenanigans?? think about it.)

georgie could be kind of like sandy/visit from time to time from the city, make it a jon heart event first and then a melanie one. melanie could be an aggressive version of leah ("youtuber lives in charming yet spooky town in a cabin in the woods, has a successful channel and a podcast girlfriend. good for her.")

there would be different heart events suiting more the canon characters (maybe sasha's 8-heart could be her venting about how she moved to pelican town because someone tried to kill her and steal her identity, tim's about how a circus kidnapped his little brother as a kid like in that one statement, etc. and i'm vibrating like i'll break glass jusr by thinking of what to do with jon.)

at some point jon is sent by elias to the "my ex-husband took the furniture" quest and martin tags along for the fun of it.

i don't know what to do with harvey because he's my husband and i love him and i don't want him gone but i'll think about it. after all, i'm still missing caroline, pierre and abigail (although they could pretty well be mikaele salesa running the store with annabelle working and living there.) perhaps naomi herne should suit the harvey role?? she's peaceful enough to not make me angry for not getting to have my dearest harvey right there. she'd be a doctor, obviously, and perhaps michael could work with her as a part-time nurse? she's waiting for her husband to return from the war (evan herne was sent to the army by his family for abandoning the lukas jojamart family business and marrying naomi, but he'll come back, fear not.)

diego molina and agnes montague as pam and penny doesn't sound bad, and i'm seriously considering having elias be both lewis and the wizard. for the fun of it? perhaps everyone but jon (and later martin) wonders who the wizard is- he calls himself the wizard j. magnus because he's a pretentious bastard. (jon has been set in a position where if he reveals this he gets turned into a plant or something) and he's also the mayor of the town (his legal name is very much elias bouchard.) also, instead of the affair with marnie he has an affair with morris the jojamart guy (peter lukas.)

george, evelyn and alex could be replaced by julia and trevor– they could be softer, less hunt but still recovering from the same thing as daisy– and julia could have a petty feud with jon because, before she knew she was a lesbian, she fancied gerry and gerry used jon as an escape tactic. nothing came of it between gerry and jon but the incident stayed and it was very funny to everyone else.

jude perry could fit clint (and keep on her incel pining over agnes, have a petty feud with jon, because she burned his hand "accidentally" and also because jon is very good at creating petty feuds with people. martin and i both love that man), and krobus and the dwarf could stay like that, etc. and perhaps jas could be daisy's goddaughter that she's struggling to raise (it could be an event, her realising that she needs to pull herself together and stop letting basira raise her alone, just paying half the bills won't cut it– maybe they weren't even together before this and a year or two after her starting the path towards recovery they get together??)

perhaps for willy we could put oliver banks and mike crew there?? local lightning-scarred man is entranced by the vastness of the sea (+his goth not-yet-partner). local hot goth fisherman is so done with everything and just wants peace with the dead quiet of the sea (he rants about death to martin as a heart event, fight me). they should also be a little bit older, to balance the age range of people in town and also because yes.

also jojamart. i think it shoudl stay jojamart because i need someone to make a jmart pun somewhere.

if i should set elias as the wizard/lewis, peter lukas as morris jojamart, who could simon fairchild be?gus, maybe? god knows he's funny enough to be the owner of a saloon. it's funny to imagine his banter with helen while working busy nights there (helen i love you why does the fandom only care about michael.)

i don't know who else i could switch off but if anyone has any ideas both the comment section and my ask box are open :)

[yharnamesque]

I had fun at Comic Con yesterday and am going to be forever happy with the photo I got with Neil, but really the way Theo Solomon got treated at the panel was so so so disheartening. Anytime a question got asked I was sitting there internally thinking "oh boy I wonder what Theo's gonna say on the matter!!!" especially the one about getting into being a game actor

And it just never happened. The poor fella was so obviously not happy about it and he absolutely deserved to have the spotlight on him more

[misshoneyimhome]

Better In Time I Frederik Andersen

[Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]

Summary: You and Frederik spend another day together with Henry, and the deep connection between you both is undeniable. Frederik feels a strong desire to be a part of his son’s life, even though he knows it’s a long shot. Still, hope lingers as he introduces Henry to his family in Herning.

Tropes & warnings: Frederik Andersen x reader, friendship, best friend!Freddie, dad!Freddie

Word count: 3K

➼｡ﾟ

July 2023

Two days later, you felt a tightening in your stomach as the car approached the familiar house that had once been like a second home. The streets of Herning blurred past, but your focus was solely on the growing heaviness in your chest. Your palms grew clammy, and the cool leather of the car seat did little to ease your discomfort as you glanced at Henry in the backseat, his innocent curiosity completely unaware of the emotional turmoil within you.

Facing Charlotte and Ernst with Henry by your side was a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension. They had been like a second family to you, welcoming you into their home countless times and offering warmth and care when you needed it most. But now, bringing Henry to meet them felt like opening a door to a past you had long kept shut. It felt as though you had been deceiving them for years, keeping them in the dark. Well, you had. But technically, you hadn’t lied—you had just kept the truth from them.

Frederik, sitting beside you in the driver’s seat, gave you a reassuring look, sensing your discomfort. He knew how much his parents had always loved you, viewing you as a second daughter. But he also understood that secrets like these were not something they would easily accept.

Frederik had taken the news of having a son much better than you’d feared. Although he was disappointed to realise what he’d missed out on, after many long discussions where you explained your reasons, he eventually came around. He understood your choices, even if he didn’t entirely agree with them.

So, all you could do was hope that his parents would react in a similar way.

_

The following night, after you’d shared the news with Frederik, you had decided it was time to tell Henry the truth as well, with Frederik’s approval, of course, following another afternoon spent together all three of you.

You weren’t entirely sure if Henry would fully grasp the situation, but after seeing how happy your son was around your childhood best friend and his biological father, you couldn’t ignore the bond that was slowly developing between them. So, it felt like Henry deserved to know the truth.

Your father had even pointed out the similarities—not just Henry’s strawberry-blond hair and freckles, clearly inherited from Frederik, but their personalities as well. Mostly, that is. Frederik had always been more calm and reserved, while Henry was eager to chat and share every detail he could think of. Yet, Henry seemed to bring out a cheerful and genuinely excited side of Frederik—a laughter and a smile you had missed for so many years.

Henry was completely enthralled by the NHL goaltender, eagerly sharing his own hockey dreams. And Frederik was nothing but sweet and kind, sharing his stories with the child. So, you hoped that revealing Frederik as his father would ease Henry’s curiosity and bring him comfort.

“Darling,” you said gently as you tucked Henry in for the night, “there’s something I need to tell you.” The young boy looked up at you with curiosity. “You know Freddie, my best friend from when we were very young? Well, he’s also your dad.”

Henry’s initial silence was followed by a soft question. “But… then why did he leave us? Doesn’t he like me?”

The question nearly broke your heart. “Oh no, sweetheart, of course he likes you. You see, Freddie didn’t really have a choice about staying with us. When I first found out I was having you, I… I didn’t give him a choice,” you explained, your voice trembling. “I’m sure that if he had known about you, about us, he would have stayed. He cares about you very much. But… he had a different life elsewhere.”

You knew Henry had many more questions swirling in his young mind, trying to process the news. However, the excitement of the day had left him weary, and soon he fell into a deep sleep.

_

And now, here you were, about to introduce Henry to the family who could have known him from the start.

After you and Frederik had discussed everything, he was eager for his parents to meet their grandchild. He wanted Henry to feel like a true part of the Andersen family, just as you had been. It was clear that Frederik already saw Henry as a treasure, and if the universe allowed, he hoped to be an active part of his life—perhaps even one day openly calling him his son.

But Frederik also knew that it would take more than just hope, as the reality of your situation was undeniable: you and Henry lived in Denmark, with Henry about to start school after the summer. You had a life, a job, and a home there. Meanwhile, Frederik’s career was firmly anchored in the NHL in Raleigh, with a few seasons left to play. And the significant distance between your lives was a gap that couldn’t be easily bridged.

He hadn’t said it outright, but you understood what he was contemplating. For Henry to be part of his everyday life, Frederik would need to move closer, or you would have to relocate. One of you would need to make a significant sacrifice, perhaps even the ultimate one for an athlete of his calibre. And you weren’t sure you could agree to that.

So, as the car finally pulled into the driveway, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. The house looked exactly as you remembered—warm, welcoming, and full of memories. But now, it also felt like the stage for a life-changing moment.

Frederik turned off the engine and reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice soft but tinged with underlying tension.

You nodded, though your heart was racing. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

_

Frederik had visited his parents the day before to break the news privately. He wanted to gauge their genuine reactions first, in case they weren’t as positive as he had hoped.

And to Frederik’s immense relief, his parents were overjoyed with the news.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Charlotte had exclaimed the moment Frederik reached the part of his long-winded story where he revealed how the two of you met at the local grocery store. “I can’t believe we have a grandson! Your son—and with y/n? Oh, how amazing!”

“Really?” Frederik asked, intrigued. “You’re not disappointed at all? I mean, you seem a bit too pleased about the fact that y/n has secretly had my child for six years without telling me or you.”

“Oh, can you blame her?” Charlotte laughed. “Of course, we would have loved to have been a part of it all, to help out and see your son grow up! But… we all know how demanding and tough your hockey career has been. And trying to figure out how to raise a child with all that? I have to admit she might have made the right choice. Besides, this isn’t just some girl you met in a bar and… had a fling with. This is y/n.”

Frederik chuckled softly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Ernst added. “She’s allowed you to focus on your career, Freddie. Being happy and free—that’s a kind of love too.”

Frederik nodded in agreement.

There was a brief pause as they all absorbed the news before Charlotte broke the silence with a chuckle.

“So, when can we meet them? Oh, let’s invite them over for dinner! If they’re up for it, I’d love to see y/n again and meet Henry!”

Frederik chuckled, having anticipated his parents’ enthusiastic response. “I’ll ask her in a moment.”

Meanwhile, you had been a bundle of nerves all day, pacing back and forth in your father’s living room, anxiously awaiting Frederik’s return. When he finally walked in, his calm demeanor provided you with a sense of relief.

“They’re thrilled,” he said, his eyes alight with relief. “They can’t wait to meet him.”

_

Standing at their front door, you felt a surge of apprehension. This was the moment you had both dreaded and anticipated.

Frederik knocked, and almost immediately, the door swung open to reveal Charlotte, her face lightening up the moment she saw you.

“Oh, y/n!” she exclaimed, stepping forward to give you a warm hug. “It’s so wonderful to see you!”

You embraced her, the warmth of her hug bringing tears to your eyes. “It’s good to see you too, Charlotte,” you whispered, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions as you held her close.

When Charlotte finally pulled back, her gaze fell on Henry, who was standing beside you, holding your hand. “And this must be Henry,” she said, her voice filled with awe and affection.

Henry looked up at you, seeking reassurance, and you gave him a gentle nod. “Say hello, sweetie,” you encouraged softly.

“Hi,” Henry said shyly, offering a small wave.

Charlotte’s eyes welled up with tears as she crouched down to Henry’s level. “Hi there, sweetheart,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’m Charlotte. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Ernst appeared behind Charlotte, his face reflecting pride and warmth as he took in the scene. “Welcome,” he said, his voice deep and kind. “It’s good to have you here, y/n. And it’s an honour to meet you, Henry.”

Frederik placed a comforting hand on your back as he then guided everyone inside the house. The air was charged with emotion, but there was also a sense of relief, as if the burden of the secret had been lifted. And as you stepped into the familiar living room, memories came rushing back—laughter, holidays spent here, and the warmth this house had always provided.

Charlotte and Ernst quickly made Henry feel at home, their initial nervousness melting away as they showed the natural affection of grandparents meeting their grandchild for the first time. Charlotte pulled out some toys she had saved from when Frederik and his brothers were children, and Henry’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he eagerly explored them.

Meanwhile, you and Frederik sat together on the couch, watching the heartwarming scene unfold. It felt surreal to see your son being welcomed by the family you had once been so close to.

Then, in a moment of tenderness, Frederik’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he leaned in closer. “Thank you for this,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For letting them be a part of his life.”

You gave him a tender smile, your heart swelling with warmth. “Of course, Freddie. It was time.”

The evening turned out to be absolutely delightful. The warmth of the summer night enveloped you like a comforting embrace as Frederik’s family gathered in the house filled with cherished memories. Even his younger brother, Sebastian, and his girlfriend, Amalie, made a special effort to join, greeting you with the same open arms that had welcomed you into the family years ago.

When Sebastian and Amalie learned about Henry, their faces lit up with surprise and joy. They quickly engaged with him, their natural warmth helping to ease your son’s initial shyness. Frederik’s younger sister and second brother also joined in, and soon the house was alive with the sounds of laughter, clinking dishes, and the easy flow of conversation, just as it had been so many times before. Even your father joined the dinner as well.

And as the evening progressed, your heart swelled with a bittersweet joy. It was a moment you had secretly longed for but never truly believed possible. Henry, your bright and curious son, was running around the garden with his father and uncles, lost in a world of playful competition.

Inside the house, Charlotte and Ernst were bustling around, clearing the dinner table and tidying up the kitchen along with your dad like the old friends they were. Their faces were radiant with happiness, and occasionally, Charlotte would glance out the window with a look of pure adoration as she watched Henry. It was evident that she was already smitten with her grandson.

Meanwhile, on the patio, Sebastian’s girlfriend, Amalie, sat beside you, her hand resting protectively on her growing belly. As she and Frederik’s sister chatted about preparations for the baby, there was a palpable excitement in the air. Amalie was due in early December, and the anticipation of the new arrival only added to the evening’s joyful atmosphere.

Your heart felt overwhelmingly full as you took in the scene before you. It was everything you had dreamed of but never truly believed would happen. Yet, despite the profound sense of happiness, there was a familiar knot in your stomach—a tight, uneasy feeling you couldn’t quite shake.

You knew this moment wouldn’t last forever. Once you left Herning, reality would set in. You’d return to your daily life, and so would Frederik. The miles and responsibilities that had kept you apart for so long would still be there, waiting to remind you of the distance between your worlds.

“Hey, are you okay?” Amalie asked gently, her concern evident as she noticed your distant expression.

You blinked, pulling yourself from your thoughts, and offered her a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… overwhelming, I suppose,” you admitted softly. “I never thought this day would actually come.”

A tear formed in the corner of your eye, a blend of joy and bittersweetness. You had introduced Henry to something so wonderful, a family that was embracing him with open arms. Yet, you knew it was fleeting. The time you had together here was precious, but it couldn’t last.

Amalie gave you a sympathetic look, gently squeezing your hand. “I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to keep this to yourself for so long,” she said with kindness. Though you hadn’t had many chances to get to know her due to the distance between you and the Andersens, you already felt a connection. Perhaps it was the shared bond of impending motherhood or simply her compassionate and understanding nature. “But no matter what happens next, I’m sure Freddie is living for this moment.”

Your gaze drifted back to the garden, where Frederik was lifting Henry onto his shoulders. The boy’s laughter filled the air as he reached for the last rays of sunlight. The bond between them was unmistakable, a connection that had been waiting to emerge for years. Seeing Frederik with his son warmed your heart, even as the reality of your separate lives cast a shadow.

There was no doubt that on the grass, Frederik fully embraced the role of a father—a role he had longed for but had only now fully realised. He had always supported his younger brother’s journey into fatherhood, but sharing this experience with Henry added a new depth to their relationship. It was as if a missing puzzle piece had finally fallen into place.

Frederik had always channelled his energy and focus into his career as an NHL goaltender, leaving little room for anything else. In contrast, Sebastian’s path had been different, never reaching the same heights in his own career. 

But nothing could compare to the joy Frederik felt in this moment. As Henry darted back and forth across the grass, a football bouncing between their legs, Frederik realised how much he had missed out on—and how deeply he wanted to be a part of Henry’s life moving forward.

As they paused to catch their breath, Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you and y/n actually slept together,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I mean, we all knew there was something between you two, but this?”

Frederik laughed, “Yeah, I guess no one ever thought it would actually happen.”

“No way,” Sebastian replied with a grin. “But at least it’s y/n. Mum loves her, always has.”

Frederik smiled, finding comfort in his brother’s words. “I know,” he said softly, just as he heard your voice calling for Henry.

“But I’m not tired!” Henry protested, trotting over to you on the patio, his steps slowing as his energy began to wane.

“And we both know that when you say it like that, it means you’re definitely tired,” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around Henry. He leaned into you, his small body relaxing as you gently ran your fingers through his hair, offering the comfort he needed.

“But I’m having so much fun! Freddie’s going to teach me to be a hockey goalie…” Henry’s voice trailed off, his words slurring with the weariness he was struggling to deny. His eyes fluttered, heavy with sleep, and it wasn’t long before your father gently lifted him, carrying him inside to the sofa where he could rest.

You remained seated on the patio, the warm night air wrapping around you like a soothing embrace. The Andersens stayed nearby, their expressions soft with affection. The evening had brought everyone closer, and the unspoken bond that had always existed between you and this family had only deepened.

“He seems like a good kid, y/n,” Ernst said, his voice radiating warmth that made your heart swell. Hearing those words from him meant more than you could express. Ernst had always been a significant figure in your life—your father’s best friend and the father of your best friend. His approval, especially regarding your son, felt like a seal of acceptance, a validation that you had done well.

“Thank you,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “That means a lot, Ernst.”

He gave you a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with the wisdom of someone who has witnessed many moments like this over the years.

As the night went on, conversation flowed effortlessly among the Andersens,and the stars began to twinkle above, painting the sky with a deep blue canvas that stretched over the peaceful scene.

Frederik’s hand found yours once more, a silent gesture of support. You turned to him, your eyes meeting in a moment of understanding. No words were needed; the love and respect between you spoke volumes.

The evening might not last forever, and the challenges of your separate lives still loomed ahead, but in this moment, surrounded by family and the quiet joys of a summer night, everything felt right.

[transgenderboobs]

id love to hear ur thoughts on using red to represent jon and the eye if the christmas parade can stfu for five minutes

hehe ok so

my reasoning for this is a little bit pretentious former art student and a little bit sappy gay losercore of me

so ok. the lonely to me is blue (a desaturated gray/blue but blue nonetheless. which i think comes from naomi herne's description of it in mag13) and ik jon says the eye and the lonely are close to each other, and like i get what he's saying and i don't inherently disagree, esp since the fears are amorphous and bleed together and cannot be separated so the eye and the lonely ARE inherently intertwined. but to Me the true antithesis of being alone is being truly and deeply seen and known. to have someone you are so at home around you can let them truly see and know every part of you, even the parts that made u feel apart and othered from people in the past

SAURRRR since the lonely is blue i picked complementary/contrasting warm colors to represent the eye, to juxtapose the colors of the lonely. so jon and martin have. diametric but complementary palettes in my brain ! and ik orange is the true complement to blue, but red is the Vibe i get from jon when i listen to the podcast so in my heart. the eye is red