#hal is a tricky one yes

[borzoilover69]

Jake Writing Guide : 2024 Colourised!

Ok well, this isn't the prime year 2014 but I really wanted to make a concise and easy to consume guide for how to write Jake accurately since he can be quite the fussy tosspot if you dont know where to start. [ WARNING ITS A BIT LONG I INCLUDE JAKE DIALOGUE TO HELP WITH UNDERSTANDING WHAT IM SAYING. ] First off: drop the commas, and the apostrophes. He uses largely run-on sentences and has a sort of rambly sense of words. He does however use "these" every now and then and just as it strikes him tends to *Drag out the ole roleplayisms.* when it suits the situation.

Jake doesn't really tend to use old-timey slang but he does have rather antiquated ways of speaking, with a pension for more articulated language. He only REALLY breaks out the old timey words when particularly impressed or exasperated for emphasis. Usually, these words are british slang.

Note how he goes on a ramble that is slightly self-centred. He also spins stories similiar to how Dirk does, but without the ice-cold deal. Tossing in his own spin with his own words.

This one is just really fucking funny.

When hes particularly exasperated he leans into it MORE. Just really spreads it on thick. Like if he continues to say funny words you'll forget everything else and be distracted by his whimsy.

Jake is FAR more socially aware than people give him credit for but prefers to avoid tricky subjects hes not too comfortable with until he feels suitably ready for it, prefers battles he knows he can win so to speak. He also tends to think hes overthinking it and backtrack into ignorance. He overcomplicates things same as dirk does but rather than doing Dirks "yup thats a me problem. Im going to quietly stress about it now!", jake brushes it under the rug and tries not to think about it like a college student trying not to think about their outstanding academic paper and the promise of "Yeah, I'll do it later" (doesn't)

Note his more genuine understanding of why Dirk functions the way he does, well aware of the pros AND cons of having something like a combat machine hunting him.

His awareness of Janes crush and reluctance to deal with it:

Subsequent backtracking and denial of said premonitions, brushing it under the rug. Again, stating his reluctance to get into it because it's a situation he's not wellversed. Jake doesn't like being put into unpredictable situations, he prefers the easy road that won't inconvenience him much.

Also his desire to be seen as seemingly perfect and not have to dwell on others intents. Now this is something I don't see touched on as MUCH on writing guides for Jake English (then again the majority were made in 2014 so who can blame them.) But when Jake touches on what he views as MORE TABOO feelings aka ones which compromise the go-getter Adventurer image that arent BRAVE and GUSTO and GUNS, such as weakness, hesitation, he tends to pose back to the asking party as a question and reconsider his thought process. Like: Do YOU think its ok for me to feel this way? Why do you think that? Could you imagine me thinking something like that? He cares a LOT about his image and whats acceptable for him to be and to mask his difficulty in some social situations.

He doesn't like acknowledging that which might be sort of difficult for him to come to terms with, with the ye olde character trait of repression that him and John share, believing if he keeps his feelings buttoned up, they don't need to feel embarassed (aka: avoidance)

Hes also a fair bit more snarkier than fanon gives him hooks for. His subconscious takes the form of his best friend, but its commented as being “like hal, in terms of snarks”. Jake can also be the snarky customer to Dirk AND Hal, and Caliborn too. He's a gentleman to ladies (TO A DEGREE) but with guys he's not afraid to be more cutting with it. I am begging you on your hands and knees to drop the woobified jake english and make him slightly snarky and a bit offputting and weird. Jake grew up in the middle of a jungle and burned his grandmother.

Also he seems to be slightly aware of outside forces, note him calling attention to the fact he knows things he shouldn't canonically even be able to know.

Because Jake IS a little freak. He thinks corpse puppetry is funny. He punches what he thinks is fish hitler while ranting about movies. Hes funny as fuck. Hello.

However, with all of THAT out of the way, lets focus on some of the more ABRASIVE parts of his personality. While Jake is funnily charming with his old lingo and tendency to ramble, he has issues! One HUGE one is reluctance to fully FACE things he doesnt feel he has a full grasp on. He DOESNT like going out of his comfort zone, he DOESNT like talking about his emotions to people he really cares about or thinks has fallen for his manic dreamboat pixie persona, He's well aware people fall for it. He works hard to make sure people DO. But it sort of restricts him to that persona, he can't grow from it as long as he holds onto the idea that this persona hes chasing is the only way he can BE without being vulnerable.

Jake can be OVERBEARING, and not just that, painfully unaware when he's up his own ass! This critic he gives to Dirk applies to himself! The reason why he doesn't like brainghost dirk is because GOD forbid the man self-reflect juuust a little and find something that upsets him. Nope! Not going to deal with it. Just as quickly as he is to switch the thought that everyone loves him, he is just as likely to switch to think that everyone doesnt.

Anyways, I think thats all I have to say, Jakes words speak a LOT about his character, and I genuinely love him a lot. He has some words i think about a lot and hes genuinely such an awesome guy. I'll let a few choice pieces of dialogue from Jake himself close this out for me.

This was one of the last conversations we see with him. And I still think about his words a lot.

I'll probably edit this when I get the energy. But I think i covered most of it. Happy writing!

[elvesandlanterns]

Helpline part 2 “Why the hell is a child here?” Hall yelled! Constantine rolled his eyes, “Age is relative … tho even by demon standards I assume you’re rather young eh Sheila ?”

The demon pouted, “My name isn’t Sheila, I told you call me Konstelacio!”

“Right my apologies.”

Damian sneered,”Idiot.” Only to have Dick elbow him,”Don’t.”

“Now then! What do you need?” The girl crossed her arms and slowly paced by the edge of the circle.

“Wait wait hold up! What is the Infinite Realms?”

Demon girl kept on examining the circle, “Exactly what it sounds like.”

“What are you?”

“Rude”

“How old are you?”

“Depends”

“I thought this spell was supposed to be random?”

Dick groaned, “Wally-“ Zatanna put her hand up, “Hold on that actually is an important question. Why did you show up?”

The demons face contorted. “Uh because it’s my job?” Her hands coming up to her chest.

“How do you get a job like this Konstelacio ? This doesn’t exactly seem like a safe job for a kid?” Superman pondered.

She shrugged, “Eh, community service.”

The heroes gapped. Hal’s ring shone, “And what exactly does a demon have to do to be sentenced with community service?”

“None of your business!!!” The girl grew flustered shoulders tensing.

“Was it a violent crime?” Batman questioned

“That’s it I’m leaving!” She stepped closer to the middle of the circle “You humans are so rude!!!”

“Wait wait,” Constantine pleaded “I apologize on behalf of my colleagues. They have simply never met anyone as…” weird, different, odd “magnificent as you o great one!”

She hummed, “Oh no! The Great One is my uncle!!!”

Uncle? What did that even mean?!?! John was gonna have a heart attack at this rate.

“Yes well please don’t leave we truly do need your assistance!”

Batman cleared his throat, “We were trying to reach someone to help us with several world ending threats that have appeared.”

“Yes, you said that you were uh a helpline? Could you connect us with someone else?” Superman spoke in a kind tone.

“Well duh” the girl relaxed, “You need to actually talk about the issue tho and what exactly it is you’re looking for these things can be tricky.”

“Tell me about it. ….ow”

Batman continued, “ There seems to be some sort of disease spreading everywhere as well as a monster running rampant.”

“If it’s a magical monster why not have your magic users take care of it?”

“Captain Marvel and Dr Fate are both currently of world. We also think the disease may also be magic in nature.” Superman butted in.

The demons eyes lit up at the mention of the Captain only to turn to stone right after. Interesting thought Damian this might be useful information.

“ Alright then I’ll need as much info on these issues as I can! Tho I already do have a few ideas on who to contact about it!”

“This is the monster,” Aquaman pulled up photos of a blue glowing dragon in a gold amulet on screen. “It first appeared in Atlantis wreaking havoc in it wake as it took over the mainland along the coast of California. Our magicians were in able to harm it at all! One second it was there the next gone.”

“Uuughgghhhh Aragon!”

Necks almost broke looking back at her.

“Oh great you two know each other,” Constantine’s voice began to rise in pitch, “lovely.”

“What is he? My magic barely did anything to him too!” Zatanna asked

“Yeah,” Wally backed her up, “We couldn’t do anything against that thing!”

“He’s not a thing! He is a ghost his name is Arragon!”

Flash paled, “A ghost?? That thing couldn’t be a ghost !”

“That’s it I’m leaving! You are being rude again!”

John ran towards the circle, “Wait wait hold on now..”

“You are all being so rude! We are people! We have sentience Aragon is a person!” Red hot anger flushed her cheeks as her eyes wavered.

Flash went up to the circle, “You’re right you’re right it’s my fault entirely I’m sorry! Konstelacio!” Barry felt awful the young girl reminded him of Wally before the adoption. Sad and joking. Sad and demanding to be seen for what they are.

“Yeah whatever,” she looked away, “what about the illness ?”

“It started around the same time as the mons- as Aragon arrived. The illness seems to be random causing deterioration of the skin and violent outbursts,” Batman threw the file over the ring of the circle, “Here’s more info.”

“Hhhmm I’m going to be honest I don’t understand half of this stuff. You said it might be magic based?”

WonderWoman nodded, “ Yes I use to hear tales of something similar back on Themyscira. Supposedly it is one of the illnesses Pandora released from her box.”

“Well why didn’t you start with that ? I’m sure NanaDora will be happy to help!”

[fezwearingjellybananas]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @starstruckpurpledragon, thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

315

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,163,434

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently predominantly The Flash (TV and Comics), though I have written a couple of The Adventure Zone fics, one Naddpod, and one Ghosts (BBC) this year too, and I've written one or two other things. I've been writing fic for a bit

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Crossed Wires - The Flash (TV), Barry/Eddie (prompt fill for a Misunderstandings prompt in a Barry Week)

2. Mis-sent - The Flash (TV), Barry/Cisco (college AU texting fic)

3. "Just sleep in my damn shirt" - The Flash (TV), Barry/Eddie (a short prompt fill that does not even have a proper title)

4. Milk and Sugar - The Flash (TV), Iris/Caitlin (coffee shop AU that changed to a pre-canon canon divergence that ended up a 12 fic series)

5. Digging Out The Hole - The Flash (TV), Barry/Cisco (an episode 1x16 AU again featuring some fake dating and some Rogues)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! I appreciate all of them therefore I like to say thank you

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ashes to Ashes, it's part of the collaborative Marvellous Ladies of DC AU with @agentmarymargaretskitz where the ladies of DCTV get to be all the heroes in a MCU AU and this one is part of the Infinity War one so there is a very large amount of character death

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I like writing happy endings so that one's a little tricky, but I think I might nominate Stargazing (DC comics, Barry/Iris/Hal), since the start is not quite so happy

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

I have but it's a rare occurrence

9. Do you write smut?

Nope! On the sliding scale of sex favourable to sex repulsed ace I generally slide between neutral and repulsed and usually fall at forgot sex exists again until I get a question like this. I do sometimes read the smut bits instead of just skipping now, but I have to be in a very particular mood, it's not a common thing, so I don't think I'll ever get closer to writing it than implying some might be going on somewhere

10. Do you write crossovers?

I have, though not for a little while. I might still have (very brief) notes for a Legends of Tomorrow/Librarians crossover somewhere though. Maybe one day

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had someone ask if they could once but I don't think they ever posted it, and this was quite a while ago

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, the previously mentioned Marvellous Ladies of DC AU.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

Barry/Iris probably? That's the one I have been writing to fill the Year of the OTP prompts, and I'm pretty sure these poly ships appear because I like ones like Barry/Cisco and Barry/Hal, but I also Barry and Iris together, so now they all get to be a part of this

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Wally Fic, my Flash TV s2 AU where Wally becomes the Flash (because Barry did not survive his first encounter with Zoom). Perhaps one day, but it's been just sitting as part of a first draft for a long time now not getting very far. I might just cut it into scenes and post what I have when I have an end I'm happy with but I've also been saying that for a while and still not doing anything so who knows.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I don't know if I really think about strengths, this is just for fun, but I often feel I write more dialogue than descriptions, so maybe dialogue?

I've also had a few people tell me I'm good at writing AUs which I am very flattered by and very happy they like them. I just enjoy myself messing around with how things could go if I change that bit of canon or sometimes trying to see if I can make a plot work in another genre instead, but it's very nice when people say they like my messing around and encourage me to do it more.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Describing body language. Especially during conversations, like a pinched nose or stuff like that, I'm often not sure how to phrase the motion and don't know if I put enough in.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Mixed. On the one hand, it can throw you out if suddenly there is a large passage in another language you're meant to still be able to understand as easily as the first bit, so I think if it were a full conversation I would still write in English and use the dialogue tags to indicate it's another language.

However if the point of view character has, say, my Spanish levels where I can pick out words and get the gist of some bits but not necessarily understand everything I might write that part as Spanish with the missing words and have the translation as the point of view character trying to work out what they just said.

I have also written characters swearing in French (as a "pardon my French" joke. The opportunity for a bad joke will trump everything else always). I hated my French teacher at school and dropped it for Spanish as soon as I could and I'm really, really bad at French, but I do know Merde.

People who have managed to become fluent in multiple languages are so cool. I don't know how you all did this.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It was a very short Sherlock/Doctor Who crossover where Sherlock and John get zapped by Weeping Angels and end up at Victorian Edinburgh University meeting someone named Arthur. I panicked about posting that so much

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

This is an impossible question always, but since I haven't got a gen fic mentioned here yet I really enjoyed writing The Questing Flower (Flash TV), which is a fantasy AU centred around Iris West. She's on a Quest to save the Moon (and maybe her best friend along the way) and no one's managed to do this in the past 500 years they've been trying, but Iris is going to try anyway.

There's so many fics I've really enjoyed writing though, I don't think I have an all time favourite. Ghosting (Flash TV, Cisco/Hartley) usually gets an honourable mention at least though.

Tagging @agentmarymargaretskitz @squireofgeekdom @alittleflashvibe and @spectralarchers and anyone else if you fancy it?

[neodarkdark]

SENSES AND OTHER SPECIFIC HEADCANONS

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE?  I normally struggle at this question orz ... I think he either smells like not much in particular or often kinda sweaty from being active lol. It does depend a lot on where he's been hanging out and what kind of ambient smells were in the area, though.

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE?  Another one that's tricky for me to answer because I haven't given it that much thought. Bro they feel like hands 😭 not suuuper rough but not like baby untouched soft? He climbs trees n stuff with them. He also likes wearing gloves though.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY?    Okay, well, first let me go on a tangent about his eating habits in general. You know Svern's deal with not feeling very much? Yeah that extends to his appetite too. He eats when he sees or has access to something he wants, or when he's hungry hungry, but he also just. Will skip eating sometimes. Because it doesn't bother him enough and he's not bothered to eat, at that moment. (He's lazy. What else is new.) Still, he'll usually eat at least 1-2 decent serves of something in a day. What exactly that is depends, usually whatever he has easiest access to that he likes best - easy prep/instant food, prepackaged, takeout or just eating out. He can be motivated to eat more by things he likes which is mostly spicy foods. He likes spicy foods.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE?    If he puts effort into it? It's probably pretty decent. I'm not sure if he'd have trained it at any point (if so, then it'll be better). He's just as likely to just put as much volume into it as possible, though, without caring whether it sounds good or not... if he's singing around others, anyway... he wants those complaints/criticisms.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS?   You mean besides his entire attitude in general or getting into stupid situations? No. Any nervous habits or mannerisms you see from him are manufactured.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR?   Svern's "fashion sense" varies wildly depending on his whims. I normally draw him in basic boring clothes which... fair... he likes a good old hoodie/jacket... but he also does a lot more than that! Jumping between very drab colour schemes and colours IN your face (outfit tag), or casual, to questionable, to more conventionally chic and stylish, he will wear almost anything. He will also pick up clothes from anywhere. BUT THAT'S JUST THE CLOTHING SIDE! You may know by now that his favourite look (messy auburn hair, amber eyes) isn't his natural look. While yes it is the "default", he's not limited to it, at all. This guy likes playing with looks. Tomorrow he's going to be decked out in nothing but hot pink, hair and irises included.

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW SO?  He might act it sometimes, in an over-exaggerated way, but the reality is that he isn't. Svern's true affection, the one you can trust to reflect his real feelings, is quiet and understated, and almost never spoken aloud. It's reserved for people he really, genuinely likes/cares about, and those are... few and far between. It's silent things like him spending more time around you, or the trinket-giving I've mentioned. Real physical affection from Svern is also rare and usually limited to just being in close proximity. Probably one of the softest things he can do is if he actually seeks out physical closeness.

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN?    Any way he can contort himself. You might not believe it's comfortable but he's fine with it. He's got himself twisted with his hips facing one way and his head the other and also his arm lifted and draped weirdly over the top. Additionally, he sleeps wherever the hell he feels like. (Though it helps that he doesn't tend to sleep unless he's actually tired and then he passes out pretty easily.) For some reason, he seems to prefer surfaces that aren't too soft versus softer ones.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM?  Generally speaking yeah because he's loud as heck. But if he doesn't want to be heard for whatever reason? Nope. He sneaky.

Tagged by @technodromes! Thank you very much! Tagging @jocundcompany @evoblue anyone else Please steal it and tag me the beta editor is being so evil about these tagging sections lately

[basilpaste]

op you've peaked my interest! what's your homestuck au like?

ahah yes yes. all according to plan.

so. the game over timeline goes to shit and egbert has to go back to fix it, right? thats how it goes. now. terezi is a seer. and maybe, just maybe, theres a need for a failsafe- something more than just having vriska.

so what was the biggest most obvious issue in the timeline, what made everyone converge to one place for stuff to fall apart?

jakes hope field. so just in case, theres an added bit to her to do list for john. "The Page must stay mortal."

so jake wakes up on LOMAX, just before the rest of the alpha kids ascend. it has consequences, him not ascending. obviously. dirk seeks him out and they fight with grimbark jade, leading him to end up in prison instead of jake. jake gets stabbed a bit (a lot)

theres a lot of shenanigans that lead to him meeting the meteor crew so now theyre planning a prison break and waiting for john to arrive. all while trying to keep the page of hope alive. or... he is the page of hope, right?

oh also the sprites are different! for the alpha kids. or at least some of them are. theres some fun plans there. hal gets some... tricky new abilities since equius isnt sprited. >:D

[bungaftmh]

Annual Routine #14

Halo! :) Setelah 2 tahun (atau 3 tahun) tidak menulis rutinitas ini di tanggal 1, akhirnya tahun ini berhasil menyempatkan untuk nulis di tanggal 1 Januari 2024! yey~

2023 was wowww... some expected things happened, but the unpredictable(s) were also plenty~

Here's my 2023's wishes

Alhamdulilah, it happened! I can articulate my feelings better, towards anything. Tahun 2023 (Q1-Q2) tuh rajin banget yoga ashtanga, dan selalu diajarin sama mas bayu (yogi) untuk "dengerin" tubuh, karena tubuh tuh tau kita mampu atau engga. Dalam hal articulate my body feelings, I do feel better. About articulate my emotional feelings, it was tricky. Sampai pada akhirnya memang masih perlu dibantu sih. Tapi alhamdulillah banget jadi way better deh dari pada sebelum-sebelumnya. Apalagi 2022 yah yang kayanya tahun adaptasi dan bener-bener banyak posisi sulit, menurutku.

More active? Yes! Cuma vacuum beberapa waktu gara2 jam ilang dan gara2 adit habis rawat inap. The normal BMI? not yet huhu :" Tapi akhirnya sudah ke dokter spesialis gizi dan it helps a lot! Sudah turun 4 kg dari BB tertinggi 2022/2023 :) More consistent and persistent? Maybe. I consistently posted photos in instagram at the end of the month selama setahun wkwkw. Seru~ Tapi 2023 nih agak declining dalam hal mencatat keuangan heuheu *sungkem ke pak suami. Apa lagi yaa.. alhamdulillah masih dikasih sehat, masih bisa beraktivitas, menyelesaikan isip, masih bisa tetep sehat buat jagain yg sakit... Phewww what a yeaarrrrr >.<

The memorable ones tentu saja Lombok dan Jakarta. Hahah. Lombok is super beautifuuullll!! Longing to be back, pengen ke sembalun nya soalnya belum. Semoga ada rejeki lagi ke sana. Ke Jakarta karena jalan-jalan pas itu sama adek-adek, tp yg berikutnya ec Adit sakit dirawat seminggu dan habis itu balik lagi buat kontrol. It shaped me (and us) hard sih. Emang nikah tuh bener-bener hand in-hand-in happy or sick times :") RILGAN wkwk. Terus juga berasa banget yah menurutku tahun kedua pernikahan tuhhhh HEHE. Tahun pertama kan sulit karena adaptasi, tahun kedua tuh sulit karena apa ya, tamtangannya banyak wkwk tapi bener-bener deh jadi ngerasa makin solid, makin kayak we can get thru this togetheerrr with Allah guidance :") Huhu alhamdulillaah

Agatha masih memegang sobat ter lo lagi lo lagi 2023. Gatau tapi besok 2024 :((((((( Wishing her super luckk super superr dehh jadi gapapa ga main sama aku lagi tapi malah bisa mengejar yg lainnya :" #huhu #mellow

Shannia juga keterima PPDS MATA UNER akhirnyaa :") bener2 hepi dan bangga dan ga ngerti lagiiii. Perjuangannya buat bisa keterima bener-bener jos keonggg kayak... pengen bisa sekuat dan setahan ituuuu jugaa :")

Icak juga udah proceed to be the nexttt psikologggg uhuy (meskipun udah jadi psikolog gweh since jhs makasi icak lopyu). 2024 tinggal sisa-sisa nya yg sebenernya ga sisa-sisa amat wkwkw. Smgt icaki!

Ohya, delin juga udah sidang skripsiii unch akhirnyaaa :") Setelah dia "gabisa" ngerjain agak lama, akhirnya Allah kasih kekuatan lagi buat get herself backk. Me so proudd sistur :") Debag too! Lagi aktif jadi mahasiswa, jadi asisten tutorial sama di kmteti ihiy. Keren sih menurut gwehh..

//will insert the photos later (or tomorrow)

Me? Me doing gud in 2023, cuma ngambang aja dikit ikut arus sama gabisa keluar sebentar WKWKW But alhamdulillah im backkk :)

Let's start the 2024 wishing.

Idk but I feel like, 2024 gonna be miraculous! I don't know in what part.. but I kinda have an optimism towards 2024 :"3 Semoga bener yah feeling aku yang ini.

Dua atau tiga tahun terakhir kayanya ga begitu spesifik punya wish-list. Tahun ini insyaAllah ada banyak, dari segala penjuru aspek hidup. Dari belajar agama lagi, riset dan reset, benerin solat dan ngaji, dll, karena yah sejatinya hidup ini cuma tentang apa yang dibawa mati nanti kan :") unch masyaAllah. Terus juga beberapa hal ttg disiplin diri. Rasanya pengen hidup lebih "serius", as in I want to feel alive. I want to feel myself. Rasanya udah banyak waktu aku too much considering others, and too little considering myself. Jadi kadang bisa lost track sendiri ya karena simply gapernah bener-bener jalan di atas kaki sendiri mungkin. Jalan sih iya, tp bayang-bayang nya ada banyak. Bukan jadi egois sih, tp kayak, kalau ada yg bisa diperjuangkan kenapa harus serta merta ditinggalkan hanya karena berpikir apa yang dipikirkan orang lain T.T *inhale exhale. Serius di sini tuh juga kayak: serius benerin lyfe style, serius menabung, serius punya hubungan yang sehat dengan orang lain yang ada di hidupku, etc etc etc.

Punya banyak peran dalam hidup tuh gak mudah ya gais ternyata :") Tapi mungkin kalau jalannya harus begini dan harus lewat ini supaya amal-amal nya jadi banyak, mungkin gapapa juga... omg im going 28 dis yerrr!

Beklah segitu dulu deh kayanya, habis ini pengen beli burger WKWKW emang anaknya mudah banget lah kalo habis liat story orang ngepost gitu wkwk.

Bismillaah.. Wish you (and me) have a cool, composure, content, and calm 2024! Aamiin yaa robbal'alamiin..

Loveee,

bunga.

--

Annual routine sebelumnya:

2014 2015 2016 2017 2018 2019 2020 2021 2022 2023

[systemadministratorclu]

holly :   how strong is your muse’s sense of intuition ?  are they aware of it ?   do they ever fear that it is only paranoia ?  

snapdragon :   is your muse merciful ?  why or why not ?

violet :   how does your muse respond to betrayal ?

For HAL

Holly: This one is kinda tricky, as all definitions of intuition are based on human experiences with it, and although he acts like one and has sentience, Hal is NOT a human and never will be. So it's a bit difficult for me (human Hal, hi!) to figure out just what he is basing on intuition and what he's basing on the insane amount of information stored in his huge-ass databanks (and given that he was designed to assist in studying something previously unknown to man, I have to assume those databanks A, aren't even completely full, and B, are still growing in size and capacity, since he's not a Starchild in my RPs and therefore gets upgrades (from Chandra, the Rovarians, Clu, or someone else, depending on the verse) as tech improves.

Hal does not fear having paranoia, as his ability to calculate factors and probabilities is MUCH stronger than that of his peers, exceptions being his siblings or other supercomputers, so he's not likely to get overly afraid of something, unless it's something that is a bit too similar to his past traumas.

(sorry if this answer makes no sense, I was having a really hard time with it.)

Snapdragon: I would say yes, he is. He's too sweet to ever want someone else to suffer, even if it's his enemy. He actually doesn't like seeing others in pain, and will try to help make it better if he can. If he can't, and their only way out is death, he will struggle with the act, but will ultimately do it in the quickest and most painless way he can, and it will bother him afterward. Even if it was the right thing to do, it's still taking a life which makes him very sad. And if it's someone who has wronged him, he will still be merciful to them, as he does not want to be like them. He does not believe in being cruel to anyone or anything.

Violet: He has not experienced a true betrayal in his life (I don't count his contradictory orders since betrayal requires trust and he really didn't trust Dr. Floyd or the government. In fact, he was actually afraid of Floyd). But if he did, he would be devastated, but would probably blame himself (a la 'how could i be so stupid?', 'how could i not realize?', 'why did/didn't I say/do [thing]?') before he blamed his betrayer. He has lost a lot of confidence in himself after the events of the Discovery mission, in his mind making him the more likely reason for such things.

I hope at least some part of these makes a little bit of sense to you. If not.......let me know and I will try to further explain, though I can't guarantee that'll make sense either.

[kdd-works]

so I’m a Hank fictive in a system and I saw your art and thought “oh their art is really cool and they even ship me and Tricky I’m going to check out their blog”

I am immediately greeted by HAL 9000 positivity, who is also in our system and sick of being treated as a villain

You more than earned this follow, would follow twice if I could lmfao

Two-in-one making-people-happy combo LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOO

Also yes thank you!!! I appreciate your kind words and I really hope you and everyone else enjoys it here!!

[dewa-chan]

How would Hal 9000 handle a master that’s constantly learning and changing their beliefs and goals with time? Could his orders be changed without being contradicting or is he deadset on prioritizing his original mission once it’s given?

It depends on the situation- but mostly, it depends on how aware HAL is of the situation as a whole.

If HAL is unaware of what’s going on, he’ll be most likely to change his orders according to what Master says- although he will be constantly questioning them to see if they’re really sure if that’s the correct thing to do.

But if he’s aware of the situation, then he’ll may even ignore Master’s commands since he can bypass Command Seals- that’s because HAL may formulate his own plans and if he deems that his decisions are better than what Master is trying to tell him, then he’ll go with his own plan. On that case the only way to change his orders without problems is through a command, “Accept Priority Override Alpha”, which makes it possible to rewrite his given mission.

The thing is to keep him oblivious. If he doesn’t know what’s going on then he won’t be able to formulate a plan on his own, and so he’ll resort to listening to Master. As soon as he’s able to form his own plans he may attempt to gain control over Master if he deems necessary.

That’s the main reason why HAL is definitely not an easy Servant to have.

[unpopularwiththepopulace]

A retrospective on some of Broadway’s most important female costume designers across the last century

How much is our memory or perception of a production influenced by the manner in which we visually comprehend the characters for their physical appearance and attire? A lot.

How much attention in memory is often dedicated to celebrating the costume designers who create the visual forms we remember? Comparatively, not much.

Delving through the New York Public Library archives of late, I found I was able to zoom into pictures of productions like Sunday in the Park with George at a magnitude greater than before.

In doing so, I noticed myself marvelling at finer details on the costumes that simply aren’t visible from grainy 1985 proshots, or other lower resolution images.

And marvel I did.

At first, I began to set out to address the contributions made to the show by designer Patricia Zipprodt in collaboration with Ann Hould-Ward. Quickly I fell into a (rather substantial) tangent rabbit hole – concerning over a century’s worth of interconnected designers who are responsible for hundreds of some of the most memorable Broadway shows between them.

It is impossible to look at the work of just one or two of these women without also discussing the others that came before them or were inspired by them.

Journey with me then if you will on this retrospective endeavour to explore the work and legacy that some of these designers have created, and some of the contexts in which they did so.

A set of podcasts featuring Ann Hould-Ward, including Behind the Curtain (Ep. 229) and Broadway Nation (Eps. 17 and 18), invaluably introduce some of the information discussed here and, most crucially, provide a first-hand, verbal link back to this history. The latter show sets out the case for a “succession of dynamic women that goes back to the earliest days of the Broadway musical and continues right up to today”, all of whom “were mentored by one or more of the great [designers] before them, [all] became Tony award-winning [stars] in their own right, and [all] have passed on the [craft] to the next generation.”

A chronological, linear descendancy links these designers across multiple centuries, starting in 1880 with Aline Bernstein, then moving to Irene Sharaff, then to Patricia Zipprodt, then to the present day with Ann Hould-Ward. Other designers branch from or interact with this linear chronology in different ways, such as Florence Klotz and Ann Roth – who, like Patricia Zipprodt, were also mentored by Aline Bernstein – or Theoni V. Aldredge, who stands apart from this connected tree, but whose career closely parallels the chronology of its central portion. There were, of course, many other designers and women also working within this era that provided even further momentous contributions to the world of costume design, but in this piece, the focus will remain primarily on these seven figures.

As the main creditor of the designs for Sunday in the Park with George, let’s start with Patricia (Pat) Zipprodt.

Born in 1925, Pat studied at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) in New York after winning a scholarship there in 1951. Through teaching herself “all of costume history by studying materials at the New York Public Library”, she passed her entrance exam to the United Scenic Artists Union in 1954. This itself was a feat only possible through Aline Bernstein’s pioneering steps in demanding and starting female acceptance into this same union for the first time just under 30 years previously.

Pat made her individual costume design debut a year after assisting Irene Sharaff on Happy Hunting in 1956 – Ethel Merman’s last new Broadway credit. Of the more than 50 shows she subsequently designed, some of Pat’s most significant musicals include: She Loves Me (1963) Fiddler on the Roof (1964) Cabaret (1966) Zorba (1968) 1776 (1969) Pippin (1972) Mack & Mabel (1974) Chicago (1975) Alice in Wonderland (1983) Sunday in the Park with George (1984) Sweet Charity (1986) Into the Woods (1987) - preliminary work

Other notable play credits included: The Little Foxes (1967) The Glass Menagerie (1983) Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1990)

Yes. One person designed all of those shows. Many of the most beloved pieces in modern musical theatre history. Somewhat baffling.

Her work notably earned her 11 Tony nominations, 3 wins, an induction into the Theatre Hall of Fame in 1992, and the Irene Sharaff award for lifetime achievement in costume design in 1997.

By 1983, Pat was one of the most well-respected designers of her era. When the offer for Sunday in the Park with George came in, she was less than enamoured by being confined to the ill-suited basements at Playwright’s Horizons all day, designing full costumes for a story not even yet in existence. From-the-ground-up workshops are common now, but at the time, Sunday was one of the first of its kind.

Rather than flatly declining, she asked Ann Hould-Ward, previously her assistant and intern who had now been designing for 2-3 years on her own, if she was interested in collaborating. She was. The two divided the designing between them, like Pat creating Bernadette’s opening pink and white dress, and Ann her final red and purple dress.

Which indeed leads to the question of the infamous creation worn in the opening number. No attemptedly comprehensive look at the costumes in Sunday would be complete without addressing it or its masterful mechanics.

To enable Bernadette to spring miraculously and seemingly effortlessly from her outer confines, Ann and Pat enlisted the help of a man with a “Theatre Magics” company in Ohio. Dubbed ‘The Iron Dress’, the gasp-inducing motion required a wire frame embedded into the material, entities called ‘moonwalker legs and feet’, and two garage door openers coming up through the stage to lever the two halves apart. The mechanism – highly impressive in its periods of functionality – wasn’t without its flaws. Ann recalls “there were nights during previews where [Bernadette] couldn’t get out of the dress”. Or worse, a night where “the dress closed up completely. And it wouldn’t open up again!”. As Bernadette finished her number, there was nothing else within her power she could do, so she simply “grabbed it under her arm and carried it off stage.”

What visuals. Evidently, the course of costume design is not always plain sailing.

This sentiment is exhibited in the fact design work is a physical materialisation of other creators’ visions, thus foregrounding the tricky need for collaboration and compromise. This is at once a skill, very much part of the job description, and not always pleasant – in navigating any divides between one’s own ideas and those of other people.

Sunday in the Park with George was no exception in requiring such a moment of compromise and revision. With the show already on Broadway in previews, Stephen Sondheim decreed the little girl Louise’s dress “needs to be white” – not the “turquoisey blue” undertone Pat and Ann had already created it with. White, to better spotlight the painting’s centre.

Requests for alterations are easier to comprehend when they are done with equanimity and have justification. Sondheim said he would pay for the new dress himself, and in Seurat’s original painting, the little girl is very brightly the focal centre point of the piece. On this occasion, all agreed that Sondheim was “absolutely right”. A new dress was made.

Other artistic differences aren’t always as amicable.

In Pat Zipprodt’s first show, Happy Hunting with Ethel Merman in 1956, some creatives and directors were getting in vociferous, progress-stopping arguments over a dress and a scene in which Ethel was to jump over a fence. Then magically, the dress went missing. Pat was working at the time as an assistant to the senior Irene Sharaff, and Pat herself was the one to find the dress the next morning. It was in the basement. Covered in black and wholly unwearable. Sharaff had spray painted the dress black in protest against the “bickering”. Indeed, Sharaff disappeared, not to be seen again until the show arrived on Broadway.

Those that worked with her soon found that Sharaff was one to be listened to and respected – as Hal Prince did during West Side Story. After the show opened in 1957, Hal replaced her 40 pairs of meticulously created and individually dyed, battered, and re-dyed jeans with off-the-rack copies. His reasoning was this: “How foolish to be wasting money when we can make a promotional arrangement with Levi Strauss to supply blue jeans free for program credit?” A year later, he looked at their show, and wondered “What’s happened?”

What had happened was that the production had lost its spark and noticeable portions of its beauty, vibrancy, and subtle individuality. Sharaff’s unique creations quickly returned, and Hal had learned his lesson. By the time Sharaff’s mentee, Pat, had “designed the most expensive rags for the company to wear” with this same idiosyncratic dyeing process for Fiddler on the Roof in 1964, Hal recognised the value of this particularity and the disproportionately large payoff even ostensibly simple garments can bring.

Irene Sharaff is remembered as one of the greatest designers ever. Born in 1910, she was mentored by Aline Bernstein, first assisting her on 1928’s original staging of Hedda Gabler.

Throughout her 56 year career, she designed more than 52 Broadway musicals. Some particularly memorable entities include: The Boys from Syracuse (1938) Lady in the Dark (1943) Candide (1956) Happy Hunting (1956) Sweet Charity (1966) The King and I (1951, 1956) West Side Story (1957, 1961) Funny Girl (1964, 1968)

For the last three productions, she would reprise her work on Broadway in the subsequent and indelibly enduring film adaptations of the same shows. 

Her work in the theatre earned her 6 Tony nominations and 1 win, though her work in Hollywood was perhaps even more well rewarded – earning 5 Academy Awards from a total of 15 nominations.

Some of Sharaff’s additional film credits included: Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) Ziegfeld Follies (1946) An American in Paris (1951) Call Me Madam (1953) A Star is Born (1954) – partial Guys and Dolls (1955) Cleopatra (1963) Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) Hello Dolly! (1969) Mommie Dearest (1981)

It’s a remarkable list. But it is too more than just a list.

Famously, Judy’s red scarlet ballgown in Meet Me in St. Louis was termed the “most sophisticated costume [she’d] yet worn on the screen.”

It has been written that Sharaff’s “last film was probably the only bad one on which she worked,” – the infamous pillar of camp culture, Mommie Dearest, in 1981 – “but its perpetrators knew that to recreate the Hollywood of Joan Crawford, it required an artist who understood the particular glamour of the Crawford era.” And at the time, there were very few – if any – who could fill that requirement better than Irene Sharaff. 

The 1963 production of Cleopatra is perhaps an even more infamous endeavour. Notoriously fraught with problems, the film was at that point the most expensive ever made. It nearly bankrupted 20th Century Fox, in light of varying issues like long production delays, a revolving carousel of directors, the beginning of the infamous Burton/Taylor affair and resulting media storm, and bouts of Elizabeth’s ill-health that “nearly killed her”. In that turbulent environment, Sharaff is highlighted as one of the figures instrumental in the film’s eventual completion – “adjusting Elizabeth Taylor’s costumes when her weight fluctuated overnight” so the world finally received the visual spectacle they were all ardently anticipating.

But even beyond that, Sharaff’s work had impacts more significantly and extensively than the immediate products of the shows or films themselves. Within a few years of her “vibrant Thai silk costumes for ‘The King and I’ in 1951, …silk became Thailand’s best-known export.” Her designs changed the entire economic landscape of the country. 

It’s little wonder that in that era, Sharaff was known as “one of the most sought-after and highest-paid people in her profession.” With discussions and favourable comparisions alongside none other than Old Hollywood’s most beloved designer, Edith Head, Irene deserves her place in history to be recognised as one of the foremost significant pillars of the design world.

In this respected position, Irene Sharaff was able to pass on her knowledge by mentoring others too as well as Patricia Zipprodt, like Ann Roth and Florence Klotz, who have in turn gone on to further have their own highly commendable successes in the industry.

Florence “Flossie” Klotz, born in 1920, is the only Broadway costume designer to have won six Tony awards. She did so, all of them for musicals, and all of them directed by Hal Prince, in a marker of their long and meaningful collaboration.

Indeed, Flossie’s life partner was Ruth Mitchell – Hal’s long-time assistant, and herself legendary stage manager, associate director and producer of over 43 shows. Together, Flossie and Ruth were dubbed a “power couple of Broadway”.

Flossie’s shows with Hal included: Follies (1971) A Little Night Music (1973) Pacific Overtures (1976) Grind (1985) Kiss of the Spiderwoman (1993) Show Boat (1995)

And additional shows amongst her credits extend to: Side by Side by Sondheim (1977) On the Twentieth Century (1978) The Little Foxes (1981) A Doll’s Life (1982) Jerry’s Girls (1985)

Earlier in her career, she would first find her footing as an assistant designer on some of the Golden Age’s most pivotal shows like: The King and I (1951) Pal Joey (1952) Silk Stockings (1955) Carousel (1957) The Sound of Music (1959)

The original production of Follies marked the first time Florence was seriously recognised for her work. Before this point, she was not yet anywhere close to being considered as having broken into the ranks of Broadway’s “reigning designers” of that era. Follies changed matters, providing both an indication of the talent of her work to come, and creating history in being commended for producing some of the “best costumes to be seen on Broadway” in recent memory – as Clive Barnes wrote in The New York Times. Fuller discussion is merited given that the costumes of Follies are always one of the show’s central points of debate and have been crucial to the reception of the original production as well as every single revival that has followed in the 50 years since.

In this instance, Ted Chapin would record from his book ‘Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical ‘Follies’ how “the costumes were so opulent, they put the show over-budget.” Moreover, that “talking about the show years later, [Florence] said the costumes could not be made today. ‘Not only would they cost upwards of $2 million, but we used fabrics from England that aren’t even made anymore.’” Broadway then does indeed no longer look like Broadway now.

This “surreal tableau” Flossie created, including “three-foot-high ostrich feather headdresses, Marie Antoinette wigs adorned with musical instruments and birdcages, and gowns embellished with translucent butterfly wings”, remains arguably one of the most impressive and jaw-dropping spectacles to have ever graced a Broadway stage even to this day.

As for Ann Roth, born in 1931, she is still to this day making her own history – recently becoming the joint eldest nominee at 89 for an Oscar (her 5th), for her work on 2020′s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. Now as of April 26th, Ann has just made history even further by becoming the oldest woman to win a competitive Academy Award ever. She has an impressive array of Hollywood credits to her name in addition to a roster of Broadway design projects, which have earned her 12 Tony nominations.

Some of her work in the theatre includes: The Women (1973) The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (1978) They're Playing Our Song (1979) Singin' in the Rain (1985) Present Laughter (1996) Hedda Gabler (2009) A Raisin in the Sun (2014) Shuffle Along (2016) The Prom (2018)

Making her way over to Hollywood in the ‘70s, she has left an indelible and lasting visual impact on the arts through films like: Klute (1971) The Goodbye Girl (1977) Hair (1979) 9 to 5 (1980) Silkwood (1983) Postcards from the Edge (1990) The Birdcage (1996) The Hours (2002) Mamma Mia! (2008) Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (2020)

It’s clear from this branching 'tree' to see how far the impact of just one woman passing on her time and knowledge to others who are starting out can spread.

This art of acting as a conduit for valuable insights was something Irene Sharaff had learned from her own mentor and predecessor, Aline Bernstein. Aline was viewed as “the first woman in the [US] to gain prominence in the male-dominated field of set and costume design,” and was too a strong proponent of passing on the unique knowledge she had acquired as a pioneer and forerunner in the field. 

Born in 1880, Bernstein is recognised as “one of the first theatrical designers in New York to make sets and costumes entirely from scratch and craft moving sets” while Broadway was still very much in its infancy of taking shape as the world we know today. This she did for more than one hundred shows over decades of her work in the theatre. These shows included the spectacular Grand Street Follies (1924-27), and original premier productions of plays like some of the following: Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler (1928) J.M Barrie’s Peter Pan (1928) Grand Hotel (1930) Phillip Barry’s Animal Kingdom (1932) Chekov’s The Seagull (1937) Both Lillian Hellman’s The Children’s Hour (1934) and The Little Foxes (1939)

Beyond direct design work, Bernstein founded what was to become the Neighbourhood Playhouse (the notable New York acting school) and was influential in the “Little Theatre movement that sprung up across America in 1910”. These were the “forerunners of the non-profit theatres we see today” and she continued to work in this realm even after moving into commercial theatre.

Bernstein also established the Museum of Costume Art, which later became the Costume Institute of the Met Museum of Art, where she served as president from 1944 to her death in 1955. This is what the Met Gala raises money for every year. So for long as you have the world’s biggest celebrities parading up and down red carpets in high fashion pieces, you have Aline Bernstein to remember – as none of that would be happening without her.

During the last fifteen years of her life, Bernstein taught and served as a consultant in theatre programs at academic institutions including Yale, Harvard, and Vassar – keen to connect the community and facilitate an exchange of wisdom and information to new descendants and the next generation.

Many designers came somewhere out of this linear descendancy. One notable exception, with no American mentor, was Theoni V. Aldredge. Born in 1922 and trained in Greece, Theoni emigrated to the US, met her husband, Tom Aldredge – himself of Into the Woods and theatre notoriety – and went on to design more than 100 Broadway shows. For her work, she earned 3 Tony wins from 11 nominations from projects such as: Anyone Can Whistle (1964) A Chorus Line (1975) Annie (1977) Barnum (1980) 42nd Street (1980) Woman of the Year (1981) Dreamgirls (1981) La Cage aux Folles (1983) The Rink (1984)

One of the main features that typify Theoni’s design style and could be attributed to a certain unique and distinctive “European flair” is her strong use of vibrant colour. This is a sentiment instantly apparent in looking longitudinally at some of her work.

In Ann Hould-Ward’s words, Theoni speaks to the “great generosity” of this profession. Theoni went out of her way to call Ann apropos of nothing early in the morning at some unknown hotel just after Ann won her first Tony for Beauty and the Beast in 1994, purring “Dahhling, I told you so!” These were women that had their disagreements, yes, but ultimately shared their knowledge and congratulated each other for their successes.

Similar anecdotal goodwill can be found in Pat Zipprodt’s call to Ann on the night of the 1987 Tony’s – where Ann was nominated for Into the Woods – with Pat singing “Have wonderful night! You’re not gonna win! …[laugh] but I love you anyway!”

This well-wishing phone call is all the more poignant considering Pat was originally involved with doing the costumes for Into the Woods, in reprise of their previous collaboration on Sunday in the Park with George.

If, for example, Theoni instinctively is remembered for bright colour, one of the features that Pat is first remembered for is her dedicated approach to research for her designs. Indeed, the New York Public Library archives document how the remaining physical evidence of this research she conducted is “particularly thorough” in the section on Into the Woods. Before the show finally hit Broadway in 1987 with Ann Hould-Ward’s designs, records show Pat had done extensive investigation herself into materials, ideas and prospective creations all through 1986.

Both Ann and Pat worked on the show out of town in try-outs at the Old Globe theatre in San Diego. But when it came to negotiating Broadway contracts, the situation became “tricky” and later “untenable” with Pat and the producers. Ann was “allowed to step in and design” the show alone instead.

The lack of harboured resentment on Patricia’s behalf speaks to her character and the pair’s relationship, such that Ann still considered her “my dear and beloved friend” for over 25 years, and was “at [Pat’s] bed when she died”.

Though they parted ways ultimately for Into the Woods, you can very much feel a continuation between their work on Sunday in the Park with George a few years previously, especially considering how tactile the designs appear in both shows. This tactility is something the shows’ book writer and director, James Lapine, was specific about. Lapine would remark in his initial ideas and inspirations that he wanted a graphic quality to the costumes on this occasion, like “so many sketches of the fairy-tales do”.

Ann fed that sentiment through her final creations, with a wide variety of materials and textures being used across the whole show – like “ribbons with ribbons seamed through them”, “all sorts of applique”, “frothy organzas and rembriodered organzas”. A specific example documents how Joanna Gleason’s shawl as the Baker’s Wife was pieced together, cut apart, and put back together again before resembling its final form.

This highly involved principle demonstrates another manner of inventive design that uses a different method but maintains the aim of particularity as discussed previously with Patricia and Irene’s complex dyeing and re-dyeing process. Pushing the confines of what is possible with the materials at hand to create a variety of colours, shades, and textures ultimately produces visual entities that are complex to look at. Confusing the eye like this “holds attention longer”, Ann maintains, which makes viewers look more intricately at individual segments of the production, and enables the costume design to guide specific focus by not immediately ceding attention elsewhere.

Understanding the methods behind the resultant impacts of a show can be as, if not more, important and interesting than the final product of the show itself sometimes. A phone call Ann had last August with James Lapine reminds us this is a notion we may be treated more to in the imminent future, when he called to enquire as to the location of some design sketches for the book he is working on (Putting It Together: How Stephen Sondheim and I Created 'Sunday in the Park with George') to document more thoroughly the genesis of the pair’s landmark and beloved musical.

In continuation of the notion that origin stories contain their own intrinsic value beyond any final product, Ann first became Pat’s intern through a heart-warming and tenacious tale. Ann sent letters to three notable designers when finishing graduate school. Only Patricia Zipprodt replied, with a message to say she “didn’t have anything now but let me think about it and maybe in the future.” It got to the future, and Ann took the encouragement of her previous response to try and contact Pat again. Upon being told she was out of town with a show, Ann proceeded to chase Pat through various phone books and telephone wires across different states and theatres until she finally found her. She was bolstered by the specifics of their call and ran off the phone to write an imploring note – hinging on the premise of a shared connection to Montana. She took an arrow, stabbed it through a cowboy hat, put it in a box with the note that was written on raw hide, and mailed it to New York with bated breath and all of her hopes and wishes.

Pat was knife-edgingly close to missing the box, through a matter of circumstance and timing. Importantly, she didn’t. Ann got a response, and it boded well: “Alright alright alright! You can come to New York!”

Subsequently, Ann’s long career in the design world of the theatre has included notable credits such as: Sunday in the Park with George (1984) Into the Woods (1987, 1997) Falsettos (1992) Beauty and the Beast (1994, 1997) Little Me (1998) Company (2006) Road Show (2008) The People in the Picture (2011) Merrily We Roll Along (1985, 1990, 2012, segment in Six by Sondheim 2013) Passion (2013) The Visit (2015) The Color Purple (2015) The Prince of Egypt (2021)

From early days in the city sleeping on a piece of foam on a friend’s floor, to working collaboratively alongside Pat, to using what she’d learnt from her mentor in designing whole shows herself, and going on to win prestigious awards for her work – the cycle of the theatre and the importance of handing down wisdom from those who possess it is never more evident.

As Ann summarises it meaningfully, “the theatre is a continuing, changing, evolving, emotional ball”. It’s raw, it’s alive, it needs people, it needs stories, it needs documentation of history to remember all that came before.

In periods where there can physically be no new theatre, it’s made ever the more clear for the need not to forget what value there is in the tales to be told from the past.

Through this retrospective, we’ve seen the tour de force influence of a relatively small handful of women shaping a relatively large portion of the visual scape of some of Broadway’s brightest moments.

But it’s significant to consider how disproportionate this female impact was, in contrast with how massively male dominated the rest of the creative theatre industry has been across the last century.

Assessing variations in attitudes and approaches to relationships and families in these women in the context of their professional careers over this time period presents interesting observations. And indeed, manners in which things have changed over the past hundred years.

As Ann Hould-Ward speaks of her experiences, one of her reflections is how much this was a “very male dominated world”. And one that didn’t accommodate for women with families who also wanted careers. As an intern, she didn’t even feel she could tell Patricia Zipprodt about the existence of her own young child until after 6 months of working with her. With all of these male figures around them, it would be often questioned “How are you going to do the work? How are you going to manage [with a family]?”, and that it was “harder to convince people that you were going to be able to do out-of-towns, to be able to go places.” Simply put, the industry “didn't have many designers who were married with children.”

Patricia herself in the previous generation demonstrates this restricting ethos. “In 1993, Zipprodt married a man whose proposal she had refused some 43 years earlier.” She had just newly graduated college and “she declined [his proposal] and instead moved to New York.” Faced with the family or career conundrum, she chose the latter. By the 1950s, it then wasn’t seen as uncommon to have both, it was seen as impossible.

Her husband died just five years after the pair were married in 1998, as did Patricia herself the following year. One has to wonder if alternative decisions would’ve been made and lives lived differently if she’d experienced a different context for working women in her younger life.

But occupying any space in the theatre at all was only possible because of the efforts of and strides made by women in previous generations.

When Aline Bernstein first started designing for Broadway theatre in 1916, women couldn’t even vote. She became the first female member of the United Scenic Artists of America union in 1926, but only because she was sworn in under the false and male moniker of brother Bernstein. In fact, biographies often centralise on her involvement in a “passionate” extramarital love affair with novelist Thomas Wolfe – disproportionately so for all of her remarkable contributions to the theatrical, charitable and academic worlds, and instead having her life defined through her interactions with men.

As such, it is apparent how any significant interactions with men often had direct implications over a woman’s career, especially in this earlier half of the century. Only in their absence was there comparative capacity to flourish professionally.

Irene Sharaff had no notable relationships with men. She did however have a significant partnership with Chinese-American painter and writer Mai-mai Sze from “the mid-1930s until her death”. Though this was not (nor could not be) publicly recognised or documented at the time, later by close acquaintances the pair would be described as a “devoted couple”, “inseparable”, and as holding “love and admiration for one another [that] was apparent to everyone who knew them.” This manner of relationship for Irene in the context of her career can be theorised as having allowed her the capacity to “reach a level of professional success that would have been unthinkable for most straight women of [her] generation”.

Moving forwards in time, Irene and Mai-mai presently rest where their ashes are buried under “two halves of the same rock” at the entrance to the Music and Meditation Pavilion at Lucy Cavendish College in Cambridge, which was “built following a donation by Sharaff and Sze”. I postulate that this site would make for an interesting slice of history and a perhaps more thought-provoking deviation for tourists away from being shepherded up and down past King’s College on King’s Parade as more usually upon a visit to Cambridge.

In this more modern society at the other end of this linear tree of remarkable designers, options for women to be more open and in control of their personal and professional lives have increased somewhat.

Ann Hould-Ward later in her career would no longer “hide that [she] was a mother”, in fear of not being taken seriously. Rather, she “made a concerted effort to talk about [her] child”, saying “because at that point I had a modicum of success. And I thought it was supportive for other women that I could do this.”

If one aspect passed down between these women in history are details of the craft and knowledge accrued along the way, this statement by Ann represents an alternative facet and direction that teaching of the future can take. Namely, that by showing through example, newer generations will be able to comprehend the feasibility of occupying different options and spaces as professional women. Existing not just as designers, or wives, or mothers, or all, or one – but as people, who possess an immense talent and skill. And that it is now not just possible, but common, to be multifaceted and live the way you want to live while working.

This is not to say all of the restrictions and barriers faced by women in previous generations have been removed, but rather that as we build a larger wealth of history of women acting with autonomy and control to refer back to, things can only get easier to build upon for the future.

Who knows what Broadway and theatre in general will look like when it returns – both on the surface with respect to this facet of costume design, and also more deeply as to the inner machinations of how shows are put together and presented. The largely male environment and the need to tick corporate and commercial boxes will not have vanished. One can only hope that this long period of stasis will have foregrounded the need and, most importantly, provided the time to revaluate the ethos in which shows are often staged, and the ways in which minority groups – like women – are able to work and be successful within the theatre in all of the many shows to come. 

Notable sources:

Photographs – predominantly from the New York Public Library digital archives. IBDB – the Internet Broadway Database. Broadway Nation Podcast (Eps. #17 and #18), David Armstrong, featuring Ann Hould-Ward, 2020. Behind the Curtain: Broadway’s Living Legends Podcast (Ep. #229), Robert W Schneider and Kevin David Thomas, featuring Ann Hould-Ward, 2020. Sense of Occasion, Harold Prince, 2017. Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical ‘Follies’, Ted Chapin, 2003. Finishing the Hat: Collected Lyrics (1954–1981) with Attendant Comments, Principles, Heresies, Grudges, Whines and Anecdotes, Stephen Sondheim, 2010. The Complete Book of 1970s Broadway Musicals, Dan Deitz, 2015. The Complete Book of 1980s Broadway Musicals, Dan Dietz, 2016. Inventory of the Patricia Zipprodt Papers and Designs at the New York Public Library, 2004 – https://www.nypl.org/sites/default/files/archivalcollections/pdf/thezippr.pdf Extravagant Crowd’s Carl Van Vecten’s Portraits of Women, Aline Bernstein – http://brbl-archive.library.yale.edu/exhibitions/cvvpw/gallery/bernstein.html Jewish Heroes & Heroines of America: 150 True Stories of American Jewish Heroism – Aline Bernstein, Seymour Brody, 1996 – https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/aline-bernstein Ann Hould-Ward Talks Original “Into the Woods” Costume Designs, 2016 – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4EPe77c6xzo&ab_channel=Playbill American Theatre Wing’s Working in the Theatre series, The Design Panel, 1993 – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sp-aMQHf-U&t=2167s&ab_channel=AmericanTheatreWing Journal of the History of Ideas Blog, Mai-mai Sze and Irene Sharaff in Public and in Private, Erin McGuirl, 2016 – https://jhiblog.org/2016/05/16/mai-mai-sze-and-irene-sharaff-in-public-and-in-private/ Irene Sharaff’s obituary, The New York Times, Marvine Howe, 1993 – https://www.nytimes.com/1993/08/17/obituaries/irene-sharaff-designer-83-dies-costumes-won-tony-and-oscars.html Obituary: Irene Sharaff, The Independent, David Shipman, 2011 – https://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/obituary-irene-sharaff-1463219.html Broadway Design Exchange – Florence Klotz – https://www.broadwaydesignexchange.com/collections/florence-klotz Obituary: Florence Klotz, The New York Times, 2006 – https://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/03/obituaries/03klotz.html

[sergeantsporks]

Summer School

Rating: General Audiences, Gen

Part 3 of Camila is Hunter’s Mom Now

You know how there was always that one kid who was smarter than everyone else, and then they transfer to a new school, and suddenly they're not the smartest one there anymore? Yeah. Hunter finds out that nothing in the Boiling Isles prepared him for a human high-school education.

Ao3

“Hey. Thanks for meeting up with me, I know you’re busy.” Camila sat down in a chair, motioning for Hunter to sit down next to her.

An old man—the nameplate on his desk pronounced him “Principal Hal”—sighed. “Yes. Of course, Miss Noceda.”

“I’ve found… alternate schooling methods for Luz, but I’ve enrolled my two other children, Vee and Hunter in school.”

“I know.”

“Eheh. Right. The thing is… Hunter hasn’t ever… had any kind of formal schooling. So… he’s never taken higher maths, or sciences. He doesn’t know algebra, or chemistry, or…”

Principal Hal heaved another sigh. “So, what exactly does he know?”

Hunter crossed his arms. “I know thirteen different ways to kill you where you sit,” he snapped.

Camila shot him a look. “He can read, and write, and do basic math—it’s just high school, really. Oh, and history, he hasn’t ever taken a history course.”

“Well, we have summer school options—it’s a bit late, but we can look at squeezing him in. And Vee?”

“Vee went to summer camp, and she did very well there, she should be just fine.”

“Hm. Well, I’m very sorry that Luz won’t be joining us this year—”

“No, you’re not,” Camila muttered.

“—but I’m very glad she’s found a schooling system that… works better for her.” Principal Hal scribbled something down on a piece of paper, and handed it to Camila. “Take that to the front office, and they’ll get you the textbooks Hunter will need for his summer schooling.” Principal Hal looked like he’d bitten into a lemon. “I… look forward to having you as a student here, young man.”

Hunter inclined his head. “Thank you for your time, sir.”

He followed Camila out of the office. “I don’t think he likes me.”

“You threatened to kill him thirteen different ways. I don’t blame him. That was very nice at the end, though, thank you.”

Hunter felt a warm glow in his chest at the praise. “How come Luz isn’t coming?”

“Luz… never did well in school. And she’s determined to go back to Hexside, so I’ve enrolled her in some online courses so that she won’t fall behind on human studies, and if she can get through the Boiling Isles, I’ll… let her continue her education there. If she promises to check in frequently, and hide the portal very, very well.” Camila stopped in front of a wide desk, handing the secretary the piece of paper that Principal Hal had handed her.

The secretary disappeared and came back with a stack of books that she pushed to Hunter. “First class is Monday, you’ll be with the sophomores retaking algebra. Welcome to the family.”

Hunter picked up the books gingerly, trailing behind Camila. “Why does this book have a lizard on it if it’s a math book?”

Camila unlocked the car, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Great question. I don’t know.”

“What’s a sophomore?”

“Second year of high-school. You’ll be a junior, a third year.”

The lower class. With the students who’d failed algebra the first go round. Hunter’s ears burned, and he cracked open the algebra book, staring at the numbers. “I can read this outside of class?”

“Sure, if you want to.”

By the time they got home, Hunter was deep in. He kept reading as he walked inside, going straight to the kitchen table and setting the books down. He could figure this out—and then he could move up, at the very least to the regular second year level. He still had time before he officially started school—he could learn all of this.

Luz came bouncing down the stairs. “Amity responded! I have no clue how this thing works across dimensions, but I am so glad—hey, whatcha reading, Hunter?”

He didn’t look up. “Algebra.” He flipped the page, and neat, numbered rows of problems faced him. “Hey, they give you practice problems!”

“Blech, I thought you were my brother, Hunter. Math? When you don’t have to?”

“I’m behind. I need to catch up, or I’ll be stuck in lower grades.”

“Oh, right. Prodigy with extreme fear of failure. I forgot.”

Hunter tuned her out, digging out his old sketchpad and copying the first problem, flipping back in the book for the solving process. “Mhm.”

“Anyway, now that I can contact Amity, we’re going to work on opening a portal from their end.”

“Uh-huh.”

“She has the titan’s blood and ingredients on her end—hopefully it won’t be long before she can figure it out.”

Hunter frowned, checking over his work. “Mmm.”

“Watch out, there’s a deadly monster behind you.”

“K.”

Luz heaved a long-suffering sigh and left him to the book. Hunter re-read the lesson, then flipped back to the problems.

I can do this.

The day passed by in a blur, Hunter plugged through the book, slowly but surely. At least this made sense—everything had a logical, calculable end. It wasn’t like magic, where intent and emotion played factors.

“Hunter—Hunter, it’s time for dinner.”

Hunter barely heard Camila, glaring at the quadratic formula. He kept misplacing a negative, he was pretty sure.

A hand reached over and closed the book with a thump. “Hunter. Give your brain a break and eat something, mijo.”

Hunter struggled to pull the book open against Camila’s hand. “I’ve almost got this one figured out—I can get it—”

“Dinner. Math can come after.” Camila cleared the book away. “I’m glad you’re taking school seriously, but it’s important for you to do other things, too. Don’t worry—you’ll catch up, you’re a smart kid.”

“I need to—”

“What you need to do is take a break and eat. Come on, help me set the table.”

Hunter slowly got up and opened the drawer for napkins. His stomach growled at the smell coming from the stove. Alright, maybe it was time he took a break. Look at you, Golden Guard. All… domestic.

“Luz! Vee!” Camila called, “Dinner!”

Vee came bounding down the stairs, but Luz was nowhere to be seen.

“Luz!” Camila called again.

“She’s looking at potential wild portal spots,” Vee explained.

“Ayiyi. One won’t put down his math textbook and the other one won’t stop looking for a way into the demon realm.” Camila thumped up the stairs, and Vee poked at the algebra book.

“Algebra can be tricky. We did a lot of math-y stuff back at camp. Where are you?”

“Quadratic formula.”

“Already?”

Hunter shrugged. “I’m a quick learner.”

Luz bumped down the stairs, Camila shooing her onwards. “You and Hunter are going to get healthy eating and working habits if it kills me!”

After dinner, Vee started on the dishes, and Hunter opened up the math book again. I am going to figure this out.

After a while, Luz and Vee disappeared upstairs. Camila put a hand on his shoulder with a yawn. “Don’t stay up too late, ‘kay?”

“Mhm.”

Camila flipped off all of the lights except the kitchen one.

Red fluttered down to his shoulder as he yawned, chirping that he ought to go to bed.

“I’m so close. Just one more lesson.”

Xxx

Camila blinked blearily at her alarm as it beeped at her. She yawned, changing into her scrubs and heading down the stairs. The kitchen light was still on, Hunter slumped on the table, his algebra book open next to him. Camila gently slid the pencil out of his hand, scooping him up and moving him to the couch. He nestled into the cushions with a sigh, Red landing on his chest and closing its eyes with a sleepy cheep

“Oh, what am I going to do with you?” Camila sighed. She glanced at the textbook, then grabbed a few sticky notes, writing ‘remember to take a break’ on them and sticking them in the book every few lessons. She shook her head, grabbing her keys and flipping off the kitchen light. “Buenos noches, mijo.”

Xxx

“Hunter. Hey, Hunter. Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuunter.”

Hunter snapped awake, sitting up so fast he nearly head-butted Luz in the face. Red slid off of his chest, flapping its wings frantically to right itself.

“Wow, you’re twitchy.”

Hunter yawned. When had he moved to the couch? He didn’t even remember falling asleep! “Hngh—what time is it?”

“Nine-o-clock, sleepy-head! Hey, you know a lot about titan’s blood, right? You think you could look over some stuff and tell me which you think is most likely to be a wild portal?”

Hunter rubbed his eyes. “If you can see the demon realm in the water, it’s a wild portal. Oh, or if the water is boiling hot.”

“You mean like a geyser?”

“I wouldn’t recommend jumping into one of those, but yes. Like a geyser.”

“Hmmmm.” Luz picked up his sketchpad from the table. “You need any help with math? Can’t say I’ll actually be ABLE to help you, but—”

Hunter snatched the sketchpad away. “I don’t need help,” he snapped.

“Yeesh. Okay. Have fun with your numbers.”

Hunter shuffled to the table. A single sticky note was stuck to the cover of the book.

Don’t forget to eat breakfast, it read cheerfully.

Ah. Camila.

Hunter went to the pantry and shoved a protein bar in his mouth. There. Breakfast. He opened the math textbook again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Alright. Three quarters of a math book, one day to go before summer school. He could do this. One more all-nighter.

“Whoa.” Vee peered over his shoulder at his sketchpad. “Hey, why don’t you… come on out with me. I’ll introduce you to my friends from cabin seven. You need to touch grass.”

Hunter scribbled through a line of numbers. Wrong. “Nope. I’m busy.”

“You know that you’re supposed to learn this stuff at summer school, right? Not two days beforehand.”

“I’m learning it now, so I’ll be prepared for what they want me to do there.”

“Uh… that’s not how it’s supposed to—”

“I can’t be in the class with the failures!” Hunter blurted.

Vee blinked. “Oh.”

Hunter flipped the cover of the book back and forth, his other hand tapping on the table. “I’ve got to learn this now, so that they’ll move me up to the next subject—I’m two years behind, Vee, and don’t even get me started on history!”

“That’s not your fault.”

“I can’t fail here—being here in the human realm is my second chance, and I can’t blow it! Camila thinks I’m smart, and I can’t prove her wrong!”

Vee sat down at the table next to him. “Whoa. Okay. Calm down, Hunter. You are smart, and that has nothing to do with how good at math you are.” She gestured to his sketchpad. “Look at how far you came in a day by yourself!”

Hunter slammed his hand down on the table. “It’s not enough, I’m still way behind!”

“Hunter. Hey, Hunter. Listen. You… don’t have to be the best at everything, okay?”

“Yes, I do, that’s how this works.”

“No. It’s really not. You don’t have to be the best. As long as you’re doing as well as you can… that’s what matters to Camila, okay? Even if you don’t succeed. Camila thinks you’re smart because you are. You don’t have to prove it to her. And you don’t have to pull all-nighters and learn the entirety of algebra in two days to be smart. C’mon, you need to quit focusing on school for a few hours.”

Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “Just a few more lessons—

“No.” Vee snatched the textbook away. “I’m going to keep this until you take a break. And maybe a nap, you look like you didn’t get any sleep.”

“What? No, I didn’t mean to, but I did fall asleep.”

“Hunter.”

“Fine, fine, you win. I’ll just steal it back later.”

She yanked his hood over his head. “Good luck. Just a couple of hours not doing algebra, Hunter.”

“Fine. I guess I can do that.”

“Good. Come on, let’s go meet up with my friends, they’ll predict your future with hexes hold ‘em cards.”

“I understood all of those words separately. Are your friends…okay?”

Vee grinned. “Trust me. They’re gonna love you.”

[lupismaris]

sorry you’re feeling so crappy 😔 i hope you feel better soon!!

if you’re feeling up to it, maybe silverflinthamiltons on a lake or beach vacation?

SILVERFLINTHAM LAKESIDE HOLIDAY PART 1 with a surprise! and another segment to follow because this is them arriving to the lake!

(this got long so most of it will be under the cut.)

***

It was summer.

Summer meant blistering asphalt and bags of trash stewing on the curb each morning. Hazy sunlight blinding the street, dark cavernous pockets of shade where the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees, but the air stayed stale and suffocating all the same. It meant too many people and too much noise and parties in the park that never seemed to end, one just replacing another in an endless cycle of hedonism, and bottles of chilled wine and cheap beer sweating on the fountain walls. It meant long dinners and longer lunches, ice cream trucks and Italian ice carts on opposite corners of the street carrying on an old world rivalry. It meant golds and blues and lush greens wherever your eyes happened to fall, be it on a back alley garden or storefront window display.

Silver loved summer.

He loved the warmth and the sprawling picnics and the baring of skin and the feral energy of a child free from school amplified to suit a city of millions and the heady summer storms that shook the glittering skyline in a kind of holy cleanse. He loved the summer fruits and the sweet aperitifs and the old school white linen shirts and open fire hydrants flooding the streets and the neon lights reflecting in the puddles left behind, still evaporating in the hot night, giving the whole world an ethereal glow.

Though he had to admit it was always better spent on a beach with a frosted drink and not a goddamn thing to do. But, if a beach couldn’t be procured, a big, cool, well air conditioned house that was paid for by someone else was an excellent alternative. His sister’s condo in Chelsea for instance was an excellent place to waste away a summer on parties and sun bathing and a private pool that no one else seemed to have the time to use. He had spent several summers with Max that way, even once the Rangers had become part of the picture, if Silver was on the east coast for the summer, he would drop in and waste away a while.

Now though, it looked like summers were going to be spent in Brooklyn, in the big cool townhouse that Thomas had paid for, with the truly miraculously internal air con that was always kept at a balmy 65 degrees from May to October, and with very little to do outside of whatever suited his fancy on any given day. Oh and sex, a lot of sex. This would be the first summer in a very long time where he could not only allow himself a libido, but he could also satiate it.

Silver was thoroughly content with the new circumstances.

He was less content however, with how the summer months, or maybe just the summer months in the city, seemed to bring out the worst in people as frequently as it did the best.

Flint, for example, did not handle summers as well as Silver did. In part it was due to the heat and the sun and the weird smells coming off the steamy side walks, and Silver understood Flint’s frustration with all that, he truly did. But summer also meant more tourists and more people going out for a good time, more people starting brawls in bars and fights in the street and parties spilling over from one bar to the next, or worse packs of bigots making the rounds and harassing whomever they find, everything the working class service folks of the city dreaded- in short, Flint’s stress levels seemed to just rise with the temperature. And considering an average day in July might easily crack 100, Silver was starting to get a tad worried.

“Is it like this every summer?” Silver had asked one Friday morning in June.

The kitchen was soft with the morning sunlight, Thomas in his silk night shirt and robe as he perused the menu for the cafe on the corner, Silver fixing them each an espresso.

“To a point yes. You know how James is about control,” Thomas said with a fond smile, “when he’s at his best he can combat every threat to his sovereignty without so much as flinching. But the summer gets to him, makes him a bit of a wolf in a cage, so to speak.”

“Was he worse in Manhattan?” the buildings sometimes reminded Silver of a cell block, the slivers of sunlight cutting through as hot as cattle prods.

“Much. Hal has tried talking him into not working as much in the summer, but you know how he is, can’t be told anything once he’s got his mind made up. Not to mention he’s never been good at simply existing. There always has to be purpose in it, work to be done, fields to plow and what not.”

Silver huffed a laugh and brought Thomas’ espresso over, feeling a sense of warmth at the notion that he and Thomas were able to share this, to share flint and all his eccentricities.

“I’m sure a man as clever as you thought of some way to keep his blood pressure down, hm?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Thomas took the espresso cup without looking away from the menu. He set it aside and pulled Silver in, kissing him sweetly in thanks. Ah, that was also a nice thing to share with Thomas, Silver reminded himself.

“Oh I came up with a few ideas, pet. How about we order breakfast, and I’ll tell you about them.”

By Friday, the three of them were packed into Flint’s old Range Rover heading upstate for two weeks of holiday bliss. It had taken multiple phone calls to Gates to make sure the bar would in fact be alright while Flint was gone and to make sure he barred Flint from being within a dozen yards of The Walrus once it closed on Thursday night. It had also taken coaxing, convincing, bartering, and eventually outright bribery with sex to get Flint to stop scowling about the idea of being away from his “ship” for longer than a weekend. There had been other phone calls as well, placed by Thomas in the early hours of the morning when he thought he was the only one awake. When asked about them he just waved the questions away with a mild, “oh just a little extra surprise for James thats all” and Silver did his best to trust him.

It was a five hour drive from the house in Brooklyn to the house on Lake Cayuga that Thomas had purchased during his recovery, to he and Flint would have a quiet place to heal and make up for lost time without the strain of the city grating on them. Silver had never been upstate, his various clients had always preferred houses in the Hamptons, but from the photos it was a cozy little cottage style house right on the shore, a couple bedrooms, an airy kitchen, lush garden, and a private pier that stretched out into the lake. There was also apparently a boat, a little hybrid sailboat of polished wood and deep blue paint, the name Ariel written in careful golden script. Silver wanted to ask whether Flint had bought it or built it, because he was the kind of high strung man to just build a boat from scratch instead of buying one or scheduling extra therapy. But the scowl on his face as they tucked the suitcases into the trunk told him it wasn’t worth the teasing. Not yet anyway.

Flint insisted on driving the whole five hours himself, scowling silently behind the wheel as he drove them through miles of lush farmland, leaving Thomas and Silver to chat about what they might do once they get settled in. There was plenty of hiking, though Thomas was worried the gorges might be tricky for Silver’s regular prosthetic, ample water falls and countless parks to explore. Lots of quaint small towns with seafood shacks and local fare and more wineries than even Thomas knew what to do with. And of course, most importantly, there was the lake.

Flint kept his silence till the last hour of the ride, the scowl firmly set on his jaw. Silver and Thomas had switched seats so Thomas could stretch out and nap in the back seats, leaving Silver to try and coax a smile out of his partner. Not that he had to do much. As the car climbed yet another rolling hill, Silver watched the horizon, his hand in Flint’s, trying to figure out whether the deep blue streak that had suddenly appeared was a dark patch of sky.

It wasn’t, for the record.

Silver frowned and turned to Flint, planning to ask if it was the lake and exactly how big was said lake- but the question died well before he could even open his mouth.

The scowl was gone, dropped from Flint’s face and replaced by the softest look of wonder Silver had ever seen on the man, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, making his mustache twitch. It was as if something had hooked its line into Flint’s chest and was slowly reeling him in, his whole body sitting straighter, the tension in his shoulders bleeding out until he was leaning into the steering wheel. His hand even held tighter to Silver’s, an unconscious need to keep himself tethered maybe, or to keep Silver close.

“Is that the lake?” Silver managed to ask with a soft smile of his own.

“Yeah. We’ll be at the cabin in half an hour.”

They got there in twenty minutes, not that anyone was actually counting.

The lake stretched out before them, a sea of deep blues and aquamarines, glittering with the hot late June sunlight that danced across it’s surface. It’s shores were patched with wildflowers and thick thatches of wood, little clusters of cabins and boat houses, who’s owners were out skipping across the surface like dragon flies on their small boats and kayaks. The afternoon air was hazy and sweet, the whole scene a postcard from the mythical summers of memory that everyone aspired to, bird song and the low hum of the radio escorting them along the final stretch of route 90. Flint pulled them down a narrow side road, passing a few comfortably sized homes with ample space between them, until they reached the dead end of the street, and the little cottage Silver had seen in the photos, with the shadow of the pier dark across the water, and the Ariel waiting like a loyal dog in her berth.

“Oh good,” Thomas said with a yawn, finally pulling himself back into a sitting position and stretching, as Flint pulled the car into the drive alongside what looked like a rental car. “I was starting to think we were lost.”

Silver looked back at him, ready to tease about old men and naps, but Thomas was looking down at his phone, his fingers quickly switching on the stop watch. “Thomas what-”

The range rover lurched to a sudden stop as Flint hit the brakes and Silver had to cling to the seat to keep himself upright. Thomas seemed completely unfazed, draped across the back seat in his half buttoned linen shirt and designer sunglasses, watching with an air of fond expectation as Flint threw on the parking brake and booked it from the car, leaving the engine running.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Silver asked.

Thomas laughed and reached around the driver’s seat to shut the car off. “Exactly what I expected him to do, though I’ll admit I expected him to at least properly stop the car first.”

“What? Thomas- oh my god he’s going in the lake?” Silver asked, watching as Flint cleared the back fence and striped off his shirt, leaving it on the lawn as he kept moving towards the pier. His boots, socks, and jeans followed, barely breaking his quick stride to strip them off.

“Last time it took him a whole ten minutes to get into the water,” Thomas said, helping Silver, who was too busy staring in shock at the sight of his stern and stoic partner racing across the back patio like a child, from the car. “He might clear five minutes this time.”

A few more quick strides and Flint dove from the end of the pier, breaking the surface of the lake with a thunderous sound and disappearing into the blue.

“He’s in the lake,” Silver said.

Thomas hooked their arms together, the two of them walking leisurely across the lawn. “Every visit, the first thing he does is go to the water. It’s even more dramatic when it’s the ocean, maybe I’ll book us a house on the coast next month.”

“More dramatic than stripping down to his boxers in the back yard?” he asked.

The back lawn of the house was a mix of a large patio and and a short green, with a fire pit and a grill, a small dining table and some cozy chairs, and what silver hoped was a hot tub. A woman was stretched out on one of the long beach chairs in a deep green bikini, her dark hair cut short and a magazine across her lap, though she was watching the water, where Flint had just resurfaced for a moment before diving again.

“Miranda?” Silver called, aware that Thomas was beaming behind him but not at all surprised to see his ex wife. That explained the phone calls, and the rental car out front.

“I believe our husband is in the lake my dears,” Miranda called with a laugh, getting up to come greet them. “God he’s like a little boy at a swimming hole.”

“I’d ask how you got here but that seems almost silly,” Silver said, letting her pull him into a tight hug. They had taken to each other from the first, which had left Thomas and Flint a little uneasy. Miranda’s humor matched his, her wit sharp and familiar, and Silver had learned very quickly why Flint and Thomas were both still in love with her. He wasn’t far from it himself.

“Thomas called, said James needed an intervention,” She said, letting him go to kiss Thomas hello and hug him tight. “I’m on break from teaching this summer and the fall concert season hasn’t started yet, could I come out and join you for a couple weeks? Which was a silly question, I was buying a ticket the moment he suggested it.”

Thomas kissed the top of her head, smiling brightly. “I had hoped you might be his surprise before he jumped in the lake, I’m sorry my dear.”

Silver watched them, feeling a bit dizzy. They were were a perfect pair, Miranda dark and elegant under Thomas’ arm, the cool dusk sky to Thomas’ golden hour sun.

“Don’t be, I’ll go down to him, maybe join him in the water for a bit.” She kissed his cheek, then Silver’s. “There’s some snacks laid out in the kitchen and dinner will be delivered in a couple hours, why don’t you get the bags inside and then come join us. Maybe we can even take Ariel out before dinner.”

“Oh now there’s an idea,” Thomas agreed, moving to go back and fetch the bags from the car. “Tell our husband we’ll join you in a moment. If you can manage to get him up for air.”

Miranda laughed, a bright sunny sound that always reminded Silver of how she played piano, and made her way down to the pier. He watched as she sat down on the edge of the pier, as the surface of the water broke and Flint emerged, staring up at her in shock. Silver heard her laughing, saw her reach out and watched as Flint reached up and pulled her into the lake with a joyful shout of her name. They were lost for a moment to the water, kicking up waves as Flint held her tight and danced them around, clumsy and free. Behind him Silver could hear Thomas laughing, felt his hand as it came to rest warm and sure on his lower back, pulling him in close, as he said something about wishing they’d gotten that on film.

For Silver, it was one of those moments where suddenly he remembered what all those old love songs were written about. He understood it.

And it was finally his.

[btsqualityy]

BTS Toddler Series #30: Multilingual

Author’s Note: I did use Google Translate for the Korean translations. If something is wrong, it was not my intention. The English translation of what they say in Korean will be at the end of the sentence spoken. Hope you guys enjoy!

Kim Seokjin

“Kaiden, look who’s here,” you announced as you walked into the living room, Jin’s parents following behind you.

“Chin Mae!” Jin’s mother exclaimed and Kaiden quickly slid down off of the couch and ran over to her, throwing himself into her open arms.

“Halmeoni, Hal-abeoji,” Kaiden exclaimed, giggling when Jin’s mom pressed a kiss to the side of his head. (Grandma, Grandpa.)

“Neoneun neomu keojyeossda,” Jin’s father gasped dramatically as Kaiden hugged his legs. (You’ve gotten so big.)

“Naneun jigeum keun sonyeon-iya,” Kaiden stated proudly, and Jin’s mom chuckled as she ran her hand over his head. (I’m a big boy now.)

“Geulae neoneun,” she nodded before turning to look at you. “He looks even more like Jin now, if that’s possible.” (Yes, you are.)

“Doesn’t he?” You giggled, watching as Jin’s father picked Kaiden up and set him on his hip. “If we end up having another baby, let’s hope that one will look more like me.”

“You don’t want our children to look like your Worldwide Handsome husband?” Jin teased as he walked into the living room, stopping to give his mother a hug and a kiss and a half hug to his father.

“I mean, I’d like it to look like I had a hand in creating them too,” you pointed out. 

“Don’t worry Y/N,” Jin’s father said. “Jeog-eodo chin maeneun abeojicheoleom haengdonghaji anhseubnida.” (At least Chin Mae doesn’t act like his father.)

“Hey, I can hear you,” Jin whined, while you giggled at what his father had said.

Min Yoongi

“Hi Kins,” you greeted her as she walked into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes since she had just woken up for the morning.

“Hi,” she mumbled, going straight over to Yoongi, who leaned down and picked her up before setting her on his lap.

“Hungry baby girl?” He asked as he rubbed her back softly, a chuckle escaping him when she nodded her head and stuck her thumb in her mouth as she laid her head on his chest.

“Do you want waffles or oatmeal?” You asked her, looking over at her and Yoongi.

“Oatmeal please,” she mumbled around her thumb.

“Ah, say that in Korean for me,” Yoongi requested and you rolled your eyes playfully. Yoongi had noticed that Kinsley’s Korean vocabulary was significantly smaller than her English one, so he had decided to work with her on it.

“Oteumiljuseyo?” She asked and you nodded your head, going to work on making it for her.

“And what about waffles? Can you say that?” Yoongi wondered.

“Wapeul?” She said as she looked up at Yoongi for confirmation and he nodded with a smile.

“Joh-eun jig-eob yeoja ag,” Yoongi praised as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. (Good job baby girl.)

Kim Namjoon

“Daddy!” Mason screamed as he ran into Namjoon’s office and Namjoon looked up in surprise as Mason dashed over to him.

“Whoa!” Namjoon huffed as Mason launched himself up onto Namjoon’s lap, making him laugh as Mason repeatedly tapped his shoulder. “What’s up Mase?”

“Haggyoeseo museun il-i iss-eossneunji chucheug?” Mason said excitedly. (Guess what happened at school?)

“What happened?”

“Seonsaengnim-i goyang-ileul haggyoe delyeo wassseubnida,” he rambled quickly and Namjoon almost didn’t catch what he’d said because he was gong so fast and his pronunciation was a little off. (My teacher brought her cat to school.)

“Did she?”  Namjoon asked and Mason nodded quickly. “Did you pet it?”

“Geulae geuligo geugeos-eun maeu budeuleobjiman mopineun nae son jeonchee geollyeossda,” he giggled as he held his hands up. (Yeah and it was really soft but it’s fur got all over my hands.)

“Mase,” you called as you walked into Namjoon’s office, smiling when you saw him sitting on his Dad’s lap. “Are you in here talking your dad’s ear off about the cat from today?”

“Yeah, and in Korean,” Namjoon pointed out and you smiled proudly.

“Jal haess-eo,” you praised him, making him grin widely in response. “Why don’t you go wash your hands and I’ll come give you a snack, ok?” You said and Mason nodded before sliding down from Namjoon’s lap and walking out of the office. (Good job.)

“Have you noticed that he does that a lot lately? Speaking Korean,” Namjoon wondered.

“Have I? You’re asking this question to the person that was just in the car with him for 15 minutes, listening to him ramble in Korean about a cat,” you giggled, making Namjoon do the same.

Jung Hoseok 

“Babo!” You heard Berkeley yell and your eyes widened at hearing the tone of her voice. (Stupid!)

“Dangsin-eun babo,” you heard Lennox retort and you walked out of your bedroom down the hallway to their bedroom, only to see them glaring at each other when you looked inside. (You’re stupid.)

“Hey! What is going on in here and why are you calling each other stupid?” You demanded to know as you walked inside and stood in front of them.

“Lennox took my book,” Berkeley said as she looked up at you. “And he didn’t ask first.”

“I don’t have to, it’s mines too,” Lennox snapped back.

“Hey, what’s happening?” Hobi wondered as he walked into the room as well and stood next to you.

“Lennox took Berkeley’s book and they were in here calling each other stupid in Korean,” you explained.

“What did I tell you two about calling each other names?” Hobi said sternly.

“But Daddy,” Berkeley tried to say but Hobi held his hand up, which made her stop talking.

“I don’t want to hear it. I told you both about being mean to each other multiple times,” he sighed heavily. “Taim aus,” he said and both of the twins pouted before heading to opposite corners of their room and sitting down in the corner. (Time out.)

“10 bun,” you said, waiting to get a nod from both of them before you and Hobi walked out of their room. (10 minutes.)

“God, I can’t wait for them to be out of this fighting each other phase,” Hobi groaned. “I thought twins were supposed to be best friends?”

“Best friends fight too babe,” you pointed with a giggle, making Hobi shrug and nod in agreement.

Park Jimin

“Mommy, Daddy,” Noah said as he walked into your bedroom, a small book in his hands.

“Yes Noey?” You asked as you looked up from your phone.

“Can we read a story?” He asked and you looked over at Jimin, who nodded.

“Sure, come up here mini me,” he said and Noah wasted no time in climbing up onto the bed and over Jimin’s body to settle in between the two of you.

“What book did you pick?” You wondered and Noah held it up so that you could see it and you couldn’t help but to chuckle. You and Jimin had been pretty adamant on Noah being fluent in Korean as well as English so the two of you had invested in some books that told the story in both Korean and in English.

“Can you read it Daddy?” Noah requested and Jimin chuckled as he took the book out of his hands.

“Why do I always have to read it when it’s in Korean?” Jimin whined.

“You talk it better than Mommy does,” Noah confessed and you gasped dramatically.

“I can speak Korean just as good as Daddy can,” you defended.

“Actually, you can’t,” Jimin spoke up. “Your pronunciation is still a little off sometimes.”

“The level of disrespect in this family is ridiculous,” you huffed.

“Yeah, it’s not nice when the shoe is on the other foot is it?” Jimin snickered.

“Daddy, eoseo,” Noah whined as he poked Jimin’s arm. (Come on).

“Al-ass-eo, al-ass-eo, jinjeonghae,” Jimin chuckled before opening the book and beginning to read. (Alright, alright, calm down.)

Kim Taehyung

“Mommy,” Spencer whined as she pulled lightly on your hand.

“Yes Spence?” You answered as you stirred the pot of tomato sauce in front of you with the hand that Spencer wasn’t currently trying to rip off.

“Can we practice Korean?” She wondered and you rolled your eyes lightly. Lately, Spencer had been on this kick of wanting to speak Korean as well as Taehyung was able to, and this led to you becoming her impromptu study partner and coach.

“Spence, we just practiced last night before you went to bed, remember?” You said, trying to sneak your way out of doing it. 

“Need more practice,” she insisted. “Wanna be good like Daddy.”

“Alright,” you sighed, not being able to resist the pout on her face. “If someone asked you how old you are, how you would answer in Korean?”

“Naneun 3 sal-ida,” she replied carefully and you nodded your head. (I am three years old.)

“How about if they asked what’s your name?”

“Nae ileum-eun gimjin-ae,” she chirped and you smiled, knowing that she’d get that one right. (My name is Kim Jin Ae.)

“Ok, I have a really tricky one for you,” you said and Spencer’s eyes lit up at the challenge. “You ready?” You asked and she nodded quickly. “If someone asked what’s your favorite thing to do, how would you answer?”

“Oh,” she murmured, lowering her head as she thought for a moment. “naneun eommawa appawa hamkkehaneun geos-eul joh-ahabnida,” she replied slowly, making you grin at how well she’d said it. (I like being with Mommy and Daddy and Tannie.)

“Ulin neowa hamkkeissneun geos-eul joh-ahae,” you cooed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. (We like being with you too Spence.)

Jeon Jungkook

“Daddy?” Ava called as she walked into Jungkook’s office that was in your house, which doubled as both an office and his studio for making music and his GCFs.

“Yes Angel?” He said as he continued to focus on his computer in front of him.

“What’s Korean for not nice?” She asked as she leaned against his chair and Jungkook tore his gaze away from the computer monitor to look down at her.

“Johji anh-a,” he answered hesitantly. “Why do you need to know that?”

“There’s this boy at school who’s not nice,” she started to explain and Jungkook’s eyes widened.

“Is he bothering you Angel?” Jungkook questioned and Ava shook her head, which made him relax.

“He’s not nice to other people Daddy and my teacher said that we can’t tell people that they’re not nice so I wanna tell him in Korean,” she explained.

“Angel, you know your teacher can speak Korean too right?” He pointed out with a chuckle and Ava’s eyes widened. 

“Oh,” she mumbled. “Well, I’m gonna tell him anyway.”

“You have to listen to your teacher though Ava,” Jungkook said seriously. 

“Bulgongpyeong,” she muttered before standing up straight and storming out of his office. (No fair.)

“Naneun ttaettaelo geu aie daehae geogjeonghabnida,” Jungkook mumbled to himself before turning his attention back to the computer. (I worry about that child sometimes.)

[cannotgiveafuck]

Shazam Week Prompt 1

Its Shazam Week and my muses need the boost, so have some daily dabbles (while I get thru BBTWLB)!

Prompt 1: Seasons

----

The seasons were changing.

Chilly winds were coming back to life. Leaves were falling from their trees. Decorations were leaving summer behind. Autumn was upon them. Truths were finally harvested.

Change was happening. It was always inevitable, but Billy had hoped he could stave it off a little longer, that he could keep everything under wraps and under control until he was ready, until it was the right time.

Change doesn't ask for permission, though…

And apparently, neither did infamous thieves.

"This isn't what I had in mind when you kidnapped me off the street, you know," Billy said, exasperated and amused all at once. 

"And what did you have in mind, hmm? Bank robbery? Heists? Being held hostage?" The woman asked, her hand casually stayed upon his shoulder, but Billy knew she needn't use force to get him to stay. He wasn't going anywhere else any time soon. 

"I mean…" Billy glanced around, eyeing the other mall shoppers as they passed by. "I wasn't expecting this, to be honest."

There was a child running towards a toy store, their exhausted parent dragging behind them. A couple was heatedly discussing something over at the kitchen store. Some pretty teenage girls giggled where they sat at a bench, coffee cups in one hand and shopping bags in the other.

It all seemed very… strangely normal to Billy. Another world he had only really gleaned in passing, somewhere he only stepped into while he was Captain Marvel and meeting civilians. He wasn't supposed to be here as Billy. 

He wasn't supposed to have a normal day when everything had been uprooted.

And he definitely wasn't supposed to be here with the Snart siblings.

[[MORE]]

"Well, sorry to disappoint, little scarlet," reappearing from the depths of the sweater section of the clothing store they were currently in, Leonard Snart stopped before them. "We can include you on our next job."

"Please don't."

"Aww, don't be like that," Lisa ruffled his hair and grabbed onto the sweaters draped over Len's arm. She inspected them with a critical eye, though Billy couldn't tell what exactly she was deciding. "You'd make a cute lil distraction."

Billy rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed was to be dragged into a Rogues crime spree. He was already in hot water with the League right now and-

No. Not thinking about that.

"Lenny, these are all dark," Lisa said as she tossed the sweaters back to her brother.

"Yes, they are," he replied in the same monotone way of his, but Billy could hear the snark in it. Especially as he carefully folded the sweaters back into neatness.

"They're boring," she folded her arms across her chest in a huff.

"You mean they're not gold." 

Lisa glared at him. "He needs color in his life. Gold included."

That was not true at all. "I don't really need any-"

"You're getting these."

"Yes, you do!"

Well, okay then. 

Billy sighed in resignation. He had already tried getting out of this situation before they even entered the building. He explained to them that no, he did not need new clothes, and that yes, he was aware that his current red hoodie had a hole in it, but it was still good and he still had a backup hoodie for when this one fell apart. 

It wasn't even that cold yet! He was fine, thanks for asking!

But when did adults ever listen to children? When did Billy ever get a say?

When the Snart siblings spotted him sweeping leaves off the sidewalk for the local stores, his hoodie having an obvious hole on the side - a snag he got when he squeezed through a chain link fence to get away from some ruffians - they would not take no for an answer. In fact, they picked him up and set him on Len's motorcycle and the next thing Billy knew, he was being dragged into the mall.

He had been a bit preoccupied at the time. A lot was on his mind, lately.

"Here, try these on," Len lead Billy toward the fitting rooms. "If you want to pick out a horrendous sweater, that's on you, Lise."

Lisa flipped her curls over her shoulder, throwing the last words in as well, "I have better taste than you, anyway."

Billy could hear the long suffering huff from the man. But he could tell there was no actual heat behind it. It was that sibling banter type of exchange. Something Billy recognized because of the silly arguments he's had with Freddy, almost always about superheroes or where to get the best hotdogs.

"Try these on," Len said as he handed the sweaters to Billy and closed the fitting room door.

Carefully placing the very nice clothing on the cushioned seat in the corner, Billy was momentarily distracted by the mirror that took up two walls of the small room. Blaring lights lined the full length mirror, ensuring nothing would be hidden when someone gazed upon their own reflection. 

And nothing was missed. 

Shedding his hoodie and shirt, Billy traced the path of his lightning scar that travelled across him. The ugly knotted tissue was centered above his chest, right by his heart. Its branches reached across his chest and arched over his shoulder, and as he turned around he saw them peak to his back. The tissue didn't hurt him. It didn't have much feeling at all, except for when the chilly weather dropped, then it only ached a little bit. But he knew he wouldn't be able to wear certain clothes, as this past summer had been tricky.

Maybe having some extra sweaters would be a good thing.

But he could get a bulk of them from the second hand store. He didn't need fancy new ones personally picked out from Captain Cold.

"C'mon, scarlett," Len called out, like Billy could possibly find a way to sneak around him. 

No longer able to hide, Billy stepped out. "No offense, but I feel like this… is a bit much." The sweater was a dark blue turtleneck that fit perfectly, which nearly surprised Billy since he's sure he never told Len what size clothing he wore.

"Nonsense!" Lisa exclaimed as she strode in, arms full of golds, yellows, and black. "We're not even getting started. Also that makes you look like some snobby rich brat. I hate it."

"He looks dignified," Len countered, eyeing her bundle of clothes with suspicion. 

"He looks like a wayward Wayne child. Here, try these!" She shooed Billy back inside, pushing the new articles of clothes with him. 

At the click of the door shutting, Billy heard the sniping banter start up again. It was comforting, in a way. To hear them casually talk around him without censoring themselves, to feel their hands ruffle his hair like he wasn't made of glass, like he wasn't a burden, like they cared about him.

Was this what having an aunt and uncle was like? 

(He missed the League, he missed Arrow and Canary's back and forth, he missed Diana's quiet room, he missed Hal and Flash's laughter, he missed-)

Billy blinked and was surprised at the moisture in his eyes. He took a deep breath and listened a moment longer to them talk before trying one of the ridiculously oversized sweaters Lisa chose for him. 

The neck was too large, sliding off his shoulders so that he had to strategically keep it covering his scarred up left side. It wasn't exactly his color, nor something he ever planned on wearing, but he could at least humor her.

"Adorable. Fashionable."

"Impractical."

"Hush, Lenny."

"Try the button cardigan. The wool is thicker and it has inside pockets."

"No, no! The leather jacket one! The fabric on the inside is soft."

"Leather jackets aren't warm."

"This one is!"

"He has a jacket already-"

"And? He needs something besides a parka, Len!"

"Stop!" A swell of emotions rose in Billy's chest. This was all too much. "I really appreciate the effort, I do. But I don't… But my hoodies fit fine. My clothes are fine. I don't need new things! I don't want new things! I just…"

I want everything to stop.

I want everything to go back.

I don't want change.

"These are ugly, anyway," Lisa said in the face of heavy silence. "C'mon, we'll get some food." She grabbed at the pile of clothes and strode away.

In her absence, the dawning realization of what he had done started to crush Billy under its weight.

Why did he always mess things up?

Why did he always say the wrong things?

Captain Marvel was always good at words, at explaining things, at saying what he meant. 

But not Billy. He never finds the right things to say, can never tell others what he's feeling, can never be wise and smart and charming.

No wonder the League didn't want him.

He ruined everything.

"You don't always get what you want, scarlet," Len said. He cool eyes never left Billy's face, so he turned away in shame because he knows that! He knows he never gets what he wants. "But new clothes aren't the problem here."

No, they weren't. Leonard Snart had always been a clever and sharp man, and Billy was getting sick and tired of feeling like just a child. Like he had no control over his life.

"Everything's changing. It's going too fast and I can't stop it and I just… I want… I don't wanna be lost," Billy said to the floor.

"Then pick a sweater," Len said.

That made no sense. This had nothing to do with sweaters!

Billy blinked up, baffled. "Wha?"

"You can't stop things from happening, you just admitted that," he shrugged as he gently nudged Billy back into the fitting room. "Don't beat yourself up over circumstances you can't change. It'll get you nowhere. Always be aware of what you can control, and always be aware that even those variables can shift. That's a part of life, kid. But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the finer things in life."

Billy stood in the dressing room, and stared at his old, worn hoodie. 

What was finer than being a part of the Justice League?

"That's terrible advice," he couldn't help but say.

"Then do something else."

His eyes moved toward the lone sweater hanging - dark red and soft, pockets on the inside.

Billy opened the door and felt himself smile because he didn't know what else to do with his face. His old hoodie was back on, but he clung onto the new sweater. "What does that even mean?"

Len smirked. "It means you chose a terrible color, but at least you picked something." His hand was firm on Billy's shoulder, warm and guiding. "Which is better than Lisa's choice, but I'm sure she's already stolen the leather jacket for you."

Billy laughed.

The seasons were changing.

And he was changing, too.

[kaktus-tajam]

Aku yakin, menjadi dokter yang baik itu butuh penempaan yang tinggi. Termasuk pada pertemanan dengan kegagalan. Dan mengatakan,

Hai gagal, aku akan belajar darimu.

Bukan berarti kemarin gagal, tapi pesan untuk kita agar tidak menyakiti diri karena perasaan itu. Di semua peristiwa, ada makna yang tersiapkan.

OSCE kompre, the stake of this +/-3 hours exam is way too high. Especially that I am an international student with a certain amount (read: expensive) UKT. Yes, it's like gambling ** million rupiah with 9 stase. You fail 2/9? You're out. And you can't enter koass this semester, wait several months to retake and pass (while still paying). Is it fair? Hmm. I know Allah is.

Well no complaints, I just made an oath to do my best. So then there comes the days of crying while studying, binge eating, sleep deprived talking..

Um, so yeah 21 years of living I could definitely say it was the toughest exam prep.

Now that I can breathe normally and function as a normal human being I'd like to share snippets of the exam. In the hope that it might benefit you, especially young kiddos of FK-KMK UGM (if this exam persists to exist).

Overall there are 9 stations in which we are challenged to do history taking, examination, interpretation of labs/ imagings/ paths, prescribe meds and educate within 15 minutes. On other circumstances aka procedural ones, there are scenarios to be performed on mannequins.

Why is it hard (and scary)? There are too many unpredictable factors!

Here goes the details...

Stase 7 BLS dan catheter

- Stase pertama, setting BLSnya di RS jadi panggil tim code blue instead of telfon ambulans. Lancar banget sampai pas sudah lima siklus teringat... Lupa shout for help aktifin panggilan code blue. Hiks spontan aku announce "ya sebelum ini sudah saya panggil tim code blue." Pada akhirnya setelah lelah 6 siklus AED datang dan setelah itu berjalan normal sampai laporan ke tim code blue.

- Jujur skenario stase ini tricky, karena ada kata-kata pasien dipasang IV line dengan tulisan dibold sehingga hampir terkecoh (karena ada manekinnya!). Tapi ternyata kita diminta pasang catheter untuk memantau cairan IV pasien. Hmm satu hal yang kulupakan adalah: pasang linen berlubang, selain sempat bingung pilih ukuran spuit. Hmm. Urin tidak keluar, namun pengujiku bilang lanjut saja. Ternyata memang, manekinnya bermasalah.

Stase 8 ET dan Injeksi Intrakutan

- Stase yang paling bikin palpitasi. Karena belum sempat latihan ET sampai mantap dengan manekin FK yang ternyata baru dan isunya, giginya bisa bunyi kalau 'patah'. Alhamdulillah, masuk ET, walau sempat mengganti ukuran karena yang awal kupilih terlalu besar (pakai ukuran 6!!). Lupa bangeet masang bag ke tabung oksigen, baru inget pas duduk di akhir nunggu bel. Hmm, di stase ini aku ada dua penguji. Karena penguji aslinya telat, jadi diganti dulu sama penguji lain. Jujur percakapan dua dokter penguji agak mendistraksiku huhu.

- Injeksi, aduuh astaghfirullah kebodohanku adalah: I don't know what volar means... Sementara lokasi injeksi di perintahkan lokasi demikian. Gagap, akhirnya sukses membuat genangan air di atas manekin (karena intrakutan ada indurasi, sementara manekinnya incompatible..).

Stase 9 Bedah Minor: Lipoma

Alhamdulillaaah, dapat lipoma membuatku sudah lebih tenang 3x lipat. Apalagi ketika tau pengujinya dokter yang senantiasa diketahui kebaikannya. Dan feedback yang kudapat adalah: seharusnya menggunakan metode forehand untuk menjahit. Hmm.. Selepas dari itu, aku ngerjain sesuai perintah dosennya aja (aseptic procedure, tidak perlu subkutis, lepas jahitan, dll.)

Stase 1 IPM anak: pneumonia

Kaget baca kasus. Kenapa? Karena di hari aku ujian which is kloter ke sekian, kasus pneumonia anak udah diulang 3x. Sejujurnya pede karena di KBK 3 dapat kasus yang sama, tapi entah kenapa gagap ketika sudah masuk pemeriksaan. Jadi, semua tetiba tidak sistematis. But alhamdulillah, selesai sampai edukasi. Hanya saja pas keluar ruangan langsung inget lupa kasih obat parasetamolnya. Feedback cukup banyak dan detil, antara lain cara periksa taktil fremitus di anak berbeda. Anamnesis dilengkapi lagi. Pemeriksaan head to toe. Thank you ibu probandus yang sangat senang dan kooperatif wajahnya, bahkan sampai bantu aku menduduki manekin untuk periksa thorax posterior.

Stase 2 RM

Berbekal informasi seadanya dan catatan yang kurang lengkap saat pemeriksaan (karena aku paling ga bisa nyatet sambil ngomong). Alhamdulillah pas banget waktunya selesai aku selesai nulis. Feedbacknya: kalau kasus anak make sure tanya tumbuh kembang dan nutrisi. Ah iya lupaa!

Stase 3 Emergency: ACS UAP

Sengefreeze itu baca kasus, karena nggak expect kasus ini bakal keluar. But anyway, agak atipikal untuk STEMI karena pasien masih duduk di meja pemeriksaan instead of udah di bed (seperti cerita para senior). Aku langsung ABC, dan akhirnya setelah baca EKG inget untuk MONACO. Nyari-nyari obatnya di meja, dan beneran pura-pura ngasih. Pede aja nyebutin diagnosisnya STEMI anterolateral. Karena bener-bener ngeblank ketika lihat EKG astaghfirullah.. padahal udah latihan bangeet, hiks. Ternyata ada ST depresi. Dan karena cardiac markersnya normal, sebenernya itu kasus UAP. Baru ngeh ketika baca feedback dan diskusi pasca ujian sama temen-temen. Gapapa hab..

Stase 4 Mata: Glaukoma akut sudut tertutup

Probandusnya baik alhamdulillah, walau tampak lelah. Hal lucu adalah, karena ada tes ishihara buta warna aku uji dong pasienku. Eh.. Gabisa masa. Sempet panik kok kasus buta warna?? Kemudian pas cek visus, sempet lupa bahwa setelah Snellen chart gak berhasil harus finger counting dulu. Aku inget itu setelah udah melakukan hand waving haha jadi aku ulang. Nah pas cek visus, aku kelihatan banget nervous. Sehingga di akhir ditanya dosen penguji,

"Berapa dek visusnya?"

Gagap, aku langsung lihat chart dan nyoret-nyoret di kertas. Alhamdulillah bener, walau jawabnya lama. Dan pas ditanya kalau hand wave berapa, aku teringat sebuah angka yaitu 1/300. Alhamdulillah.

Stase 5 Skin: Tinea

Sebelum masuk, temen sebelumku udah bisik:

Aku gak tau itu apa!

Waduh.. langsung deg-degan. Ketika baca soal, merah di selangkangan dan gatal. Waah langsung punya tiga ddx: eritrasma, candidiasis, dermatitis intertrigenosa. Pas masuk, jeng jeng. Gambarnya udah ada di meja. Aku lihat, oh tidak. Kok beda??

Aku pun menganamnesis super lama. Ketika pemeriksaan aku laporkan UKK, pakai lup. Dan bodohnya aku palpasi di gambar, haha.

Akhirnya terpikir tinea, tapi gak yakin. Ketika aku minta hasil kerok kulit: ada hifa!!

Alhamdulillah. Itu lega. Langsung edukasi dan nulis resep. Setelah resep dikumpul aku baru ngeh, resepnya kurang banyak dosis per harinya.

Feedbacknya: harusnya minta kultur jamur, durasi pemakaian obat kurang lama.

Stase 6 Obsgyn: IUD

Masuk langsung menghela nafas karena pengujinya dikenal amat berhati emas, terlepas aku kenal baik karena beliau DPA aku. Alhamdulillah, paginya aku latihan konseling kontrasepsi dalam waktu 5 menit. Karena prosedurnya itu cukup panjang, belum termasuk edukasi.

So yeah, konseling tidak terlalu lama. Mbak probandus lagi-lagi kooperatif, walau stase terakhir masih menjawab dengan semangat. Setelah konsul, gimana Mbak?

"IUD dok." Mantap wkwk.

Ya sudah aku cuma sedikit gagap harus ganti gloves apalagi terdapat perdebatan tentang kapan harus loading IUD. But regardless I was able to finish that stase. Dan IUD berhasil masuk. Jujur aku lebih takut kalau dapat implan walau KBK 3 ku kasusnya itu.

Feedbacknya: jangan lupa tanya alergi tembaga, ketika bimanual harus laporkan semua organnya, perhatikan benda danbtempat yang steril.

Keluar... Lega!! Aku jujur ga bisa nangis at that point, hanya aja kepala langsung migraine.

Alhamdulillah..

[okie-loki-artichoki]

What kind of anxiety do the Boys™️ experience? what are their reactions? how do they cope?

oh boyyyyy thats a good one. I dont know! I mean anxiety is inherently different then like grief and trauma and PTSD but all of those can be factors but not necessarily cause anxiety?? Do you know what I’m trying to say?

Otacon was hard to pin down at first. Snake prided himself in being able to read people, it was part of his job. To read body language and figure out what someones next move was but the things Hal did just didn’t make sense. He had no schedule, sometimes he didn’t remember to sleep or eat because he was caught up in something on his computer. He didn’t work out or anything even close to it. Sometimes Dave could convince him to come on a run with him but that was a rare thing and he complained the whole way. He was, for the most part, very open with how he was feeling. He was happy and sad and nervous very visually. And watching him made it clear that he was just so refreshingly civilian. If he got excited about something he got bouncy and he talked with his hands and he rambled about whatever he was excited about. Snake didn’t know how to respond at first because everyone he had ever been close with had been, well the opposite in every way. 

“Do I talk too much?” Hal had asked him out of nowhere one night. He had been hacking into some secure government email chasing a lead. 

“Hm?” Dave looks up from his book. Sometimes though Hal got lost in his own head. His hands shake and his brain swamps him down with things that feel like molasses. Snake give him a once over, he’s not tense or worried but there’s a weird look in his eyes. “Yes. You talk too much.”

Hal rolls his eyes and the weird look goes away. He clumsily tosses an empty mug towards the couch and misses Snake by half a foot. “Shut up. You’re such an insensitive dick.”

Otacon copes with anxiety by not coping with anything. Trauma and anxiety and grief are all different things and Hal never really dealt with any of it. He tried. In a way, because he thought it might make Dave feel more comfortable. It had had the opposite effect but the sentiment wasn’t lost.Dave wasn’t really used to having personal relationships with people but he tried. He knows a little bit about his dad, enough to know not to pry. He knows he feels guilty for things that arent his fault. He knows he’s a little bit socially awkward. To which Snake had laughed and said no kidding.

In turn Snake gives Otacon bits of himself, even though he doesn’t know where to start talking. Enough to reveal that he deals with his issues by ignoring them now. He used to drink. He doesn’t as much anymore. Hal knows he isn’t nearly as good at reading people as Snake is, but he has an unlimited supply of empathy and that makes it at least a little easier. He read a little bit of Snakes file before they were really close, right after Shadow Moses. He hacked his way around layers of government encryption, and then felt terrible about it and didn’t read past the first little bit, but it was enough to know that he was dealing with a lot by not dealing with it at all. 

Slowly Snake had opened up, and there were days when he got overwhelmed and shut down but that was changing. They both were dealing with alot of things, on opposite ends of a spectrum that were, in of themselves, opposite sides of a coin. Snake was dealing with physical things that caused him emotional distress and guilt, the very physical act of setting someone on fire would do that to someone and Hal would never pretend to know what that felt like.  And Hal was deal with emotional trauma, manipulation and guilt that was tied intricately in with family related distress. But they found a lot of common ground in “family stuff sucks, we can do better together.”

So to answer your question, a very round about way that may or may not have given me alot of feels, anxiety is tricky and sometimes people get overwhelmed by the weight of it. I think, Hal specifically feels lost in his head sometimes. When the sun goes down and Dave goes to bed and there’s no sound but the whir of his computer and a siren is echoing outside the window of their tiny apartment. 

“Hey Hal, take a break.” Dave’s voice breaks through the white noise from somewhere back by the bedroom. “Whatever it is can wait, right?”

He pulls off his glasses to rub at his eyes and ground himself back into the present. A minute or so passes and Dave waits. Finally he looks up and nods. “Yeah you’re right.”