#48 hour comic weekend

[stevviefox]

It’s wonderful!!

Here’s the horror comic I drew for this year’s 24 hour comic day/48 hour comic weekend, called “The Night-Mother”.

Content warnings: miscarriage, child loss, violence, death, nudity

[lastcellontheleft]

We didn’t get a S4 announcement, but you know what the absolute best thing about today’s C2E2 Hannibal panel truly was? 

For almost the first time since the show ended, Fannibals showed how profitable Hannibal can still be. 

C2E2 sold out of their remaining VIP ticket packages with guaranteed panel seating within 48 hours of the reunion announcement. Paid PopVerse subscriptions to stream the panel spiked with previously untapped demos (if socials are anything to go by). The largest event hall at C2E2 was overcapacity 45 minutes before the panel; while that’s normal for cons like SDCC and NYCC, in my experience that’s less common at C2E2.

Not to mention Mads and Hugh making bank with autograph and photo-op sales; a huge component of drawing in good talent to table at cons as well, making sure they make enough over the weekend to justify their presence beyond panel appearances. From a talent booking/event management perspective, this is the absolute dream scenario.

So, here’s the super fun part: ReedPop, the company that owns C2E2, also owns/operates New York Comic Con (NYCC), one of the highest-profile US entertainment conventions after San Diego Comic-Con. Now that ReedPop is aware of the viability of Hannibal programming, it would be extremely surprising if RP didn’t attempt a run at a larger, proper reunion panel at NYCC.

Honestly, great job, team. 2024 could very well be the year we get real buzz going again!

[teaspoonnebula]

Woooo I'm back! I was away this weekend at Thought Bubble, a comic convention that is very near and dear to me :D

...And which also happens to be situated across the road from the Harrogate Turkish Baths that were built in the late 1890s, and with our first mention of Turkish Baths about to come up in Letters from Watson, you know what I did with my evening...

As someone who has ever been to a spa or a sauna, I went into it pretty nervous. I was reassured that I knew everyone would be in swimming costumes and there would be attendants on hand to help, but also nervous that I would do something wrong or end up getting a bit overwhelmed by all the sensory stimuli going on (smells! noise! colours! heat! cold!) I was also worried I'd have to take my glasses off, because I was on my own and I have very poor eyesight without them.

But I guess my raging inner history buff that's both interested in late Victorian forms of entertainment and also pretty interested in Roman baths that are a comparable process won out, because I went.

AND I LOVED IT!

I was honestly fizzing with excitement just to be walking around an environment I'm used to seeing in old black and white photographs...

But it was like... REAL!!!

I couldn't take photos in the baths myself because obviously that would be incredibly creepy but please enjoy this picture I took of a logo model in the lobby, and an actual Thomas Crapper toilet, yes I do get excited by silly things

The process of using the baths was all about alternating heat and cold, with three rooms with different heat levels, and a cold plunge pool and showers.

The best thing about it for me is that while there was a recommended sequence to follow, you could pay attention to your own body and just do whatever you wanted to do.

I was surprised how tolerable the hottest room was because it was a really dry heat, but I spent most of my time lounging around in the two lowest heat areas. If I do it again I'm definitely going to bring a book - I wouldn't have thought that was an option, but they actually provided magazines and I saw a fair number of people reading!

I found myself feeling so happy and floppy afterwards. I joked that it felt like I had no bones. In fact it's been nearly 48 hours now and I swear I still feel like a happy puddle.

Anyway as a treat for reading to the end, please enjoy the Sherlock Holmes Turkish Baths illustration that makes the fandom go absolutely feral:

[extremetimedchallengeexchange]

What's in the tag set anyways?

Considering joining the exchange? The idea of 48 hours to make a gift for someone sound just painful enough to be awesome? Already super busy on the weekend of August 31st through September 1st, but you know, you figure you can do a doodle on your phone? Well, in that case, let's delve a little deeper into the tag set.

You want all the gory details including tags in, tags still to be seconded, and some stats? Well in that case, let me direct you to the live-updating spreadsheet.

The idea of looking through the 1748 tags seconded through already in 123 fandoms sound like kind of a lot, actually? You're not sure you love spreadsheets that much? Well in that case, here is a list of every fandom in the tag set with over 20 tags already sent through to the tag set, which this post is also tagged as.

3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series (87 tags)

Critical Role (Web Series) (35 tags)

Crossover Fandom (79 tags)

Dangan Ronpa Series (24 tags)

DCU (Comics) (47 tags)

Dimension 20 (Web Series) (57 tags)

Dream SMP (92 tags)

Empires SMP (64 tags)

Gravity Falls (22 tags)

Grishaverse - Leigh Bardugo (21 tags)

Hermitcraft SMP (69 tags)

His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman (20 tags)

Homestuck (46 tags)

Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger (27 tags)

Lifesteal SMP (34 tags)

Original Work (60 tags)

Origins SMP (29 tags)

QSMP | Quackity SMP (55 tags)

Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater (20 tags)

Star Wars - All Media Types (31 tags)

The Magnus Archives (Podcast) (58 tags)

The Mechanisms (Band) (28 tags)

プロジェクトセカイ カラフルステージ！| Project SEKAI COLORFUL STAGE! (Video Game) (35 tags)

呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga) (32 tags)

魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù (28 tags)

If you are in any of those fandoms, there's a chance that your blorbos are already in the tag set! Check out our rules for more information or join our discord to be part of it! Tag nominations are open until Midnight EST on the 20th, you still have a chance to add your blorbo into the exchange before signups open!

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

@ckhalloween23 heyyyyyy bestie(s) I know I'm an entire-ass month late, BUT

HERE'S A PREVIEW OF THE ELIMETRI DARKFIC I PROMISED

Listen, y'all can't give me a "Serial Killers" prompt and the opportunity to write the dark, unhinged Demetri Alexopoulos of my dreams presented on a silver platter and NOT expect me to go a little apeshit ^^;

Or. A lot apeshit. Because boy did I let this funny little comic relief guy SNAP ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Also, funnily enough, I realized over the course of the last year or so that I'm probably autistic? For the longest time I held off on writing Hawk's POV because I hc him as autistic and I didn't think I could do him justice, but...I've unlocked this Fun Secret Collector's Item now, I guess XD Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz POV acquired!

Decided to give it a stab here, since him having NO fucking idea how to react to Crazy Demetri was just too much fun. Hawk came to me surprisingly easy once I got started, actually??? I mean I've always related to him a lot but I had no idea it was like. An autism thing. I thought it was just an ND thing akisudhlkuhyfu

Head's up to Tory and Robby stans...this may not be the fic for you. You have been warned 👀

CW for blood, violence, knife-threatening, light knifeplay, toxic relationships (although YMMV), mentions of murder, implied slut-shaming, homophobic slurs, and sexual subtext.

Fic under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3

***

Hawk’s on his 30th rep when he hears the front door.

He stops mid-jab, the punching bag rattling on its chain as it sways back and forth. Scoffing, he rolls his eyes.

His mom must be home early. How fucking annoying.

He was looking forward to having the house to himself. With his father on a weekend-long business trip and his mother at her Friday night wine hangout, he was finally going to catch up on training without any interruptions.

The last thing he needs is to be outdone by Kyler Park and Robby Fucking Keene.

Hopefully his mom won’t come knocking, pestering him to watch movies or some other frivolous crap. He doesn’t have time for that anymore.

Strange. There’s a notable lack of the jingling and clattering that usually comes from 50 million things being shifted through an oversize purse. Hawk pauses, listening for any noise.

Maybe he imagined it.

“What the hell.” He takes a sip of the Red Bull on his bedside. Some sleep-deprived delirium or whatever it was wasn’t going to fuck up his focus.

Sure, he’s been averaging 5 hours a night, but who gives a shit? It’s not like anyone in high school actually gets enough sleep.

Sensei Kreese said in ‘Nam, they had to be ready to fight on a moment’s notice—geared to slaughter enemies after a mere 30 minutes’ rest in 48 hours. Hawk doesn’t strive for anything less.

The stairs creak.

His mom isn’t usually one for sneaking past his room, but perhaps she’s too tired to be chatty. He thanks the powers that be this seems to be the case, and returns to his reps.

Jab, cross, roundhouse. Jab, cross, roundhouse. Elbow. Knee to the chest.

He counts them out as he goes, power surging through him. Sensei will be sorry he started singing Keene’s praises when Hawk’s a better fighter than that piece of shit ever was.

Because throwing someone off a balcony when they had their guard down was a coward’s move. Typical Miyagi Do bullshit.

God, Hawk hates them. Hypocrites. Losers. Pussies.

He thinks of a new insult every time he lands a punch.

Miguel’s fucking insane for not appreciating what Cobra Kai did to get payback. What Hawk did to get payback.

His fists are starting to ache, fingers burning from being smashed against rubber again and again. Hawk doesn’t care.

Sensei would say the pain makes him stronger.

Jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross—

“You know, at some point, I think you’re as good as you’re going to get at punching.”

A shadow blocks the hallway light.

Dread grips him in frosty talons. His arms still, the punching bag swinging back and smacking his chest.

He gasps, stumbling back. Still, he refuses to look at the doorway.

Refuses to let Demetri see his shock.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

He presses as much venom into the words as possible. Enough intimidation, and Demetri will back down.

He knows now that Hawk is as real a threat as he ever was. And Demetri’s smart enough not to keep poking at a tiger that’s already mauled him.

“In what world would I not remember where you keep your spare keys?” Demetri sneers.

Well. Maybe that’s a bit generous.

“What do you want?”

Hawk keeps his tone steely, hoping he can kill whatever plans are swimming around his ex-best-friend’s head before they even form. In all likelihood, Demetri’s here to be a nuisance at best and a night-ruiner at worst.

Fucking Demetri. He’s always been such a distraction.

Hawk needs to get rid of those.

He thought he did. But Demetri is apparently either too stupid or too obsessed with the past to be properly scared away.

Irritating, but admittedly also interesting. It shows a kind of boldness that he wouldn’t expect Demetri, of all people, to have.

���Maybe I want to check in on my best friend.” Groaning footfalls as Demetri starts to slowly cross Hawk’s room. “I see you avoiding me at school. And you didn’t even bother to show when your little friends crashed Sam’s party. Perhaps I want to see how you are, hmmmm?”

And try as he might, Hawk can’t pick up the usual sarcastic edge to Demetri’s tone. He frowns at his far wall, confused.

There’s something odd in Demetri’s voice, and Hawk can’t for the life of him pick up what it is.

He still refuses to look at his oldest friend. He’s not going to give him the satisfaction of undivided attention.

Demetri is a pest, and should be treated as such.

“We’re not best friends,” Hawk says tightly, landing another punch on his bag. “Whatever we were? It’s done. Has been for a long time. Why can’t you get that?”

He finally graces Demetri with a look. He’s expecting the usual sullen look—scrunched brow, open mouth, widened eyes. Like he’s eternally surprised Hawk doesn’t need him anymore.

A look where maybe, if he prods it farther, Demetri will storm off. Or run off crying. Be out of Hawk’s sight.

Be somewhere where Hawk doesn’t have to think about that night at Golf N Stuff. Or how it felt to watch Demetri writhe on the floor. Or the streams of vomit that ripped from Hawk’s stomach as soon as he got home.

Or what he did to himself in the wee hours of the morning, when no one—not his mother, not Cobra Kai, not Sensei Kreese—was around to see.

But when Hawk glances over now, Demetri is smiling.

Not a contemptuous sneer, or a pained grimace. A full-on grin, splitting his cheeks and stretching much wider than the situation calls for.

Hawk inhales sharply.

Demetri shakes his head, laughing. “It’s almost endearing, you know. What a tryhard you are.”

He squares his jaw, refusing to budge as Demetri advances on him. “I thought I made it pretty clear what I think about you. You want another reminder?”

Hawk balls his fists, trying not to think about how hard the words are to force out. How hard he’s working to keep the iron shell he’s built around himself intact.

A strange smell hovers around Demetri. Acrid and metallic, like he’s spent too much time mucking around inside one of those computers he’s so besotted with.

“How revoltingly naïve.” Green eyes burn into him like acid, the glint behind them unlike anything he’s ever seen. “You thought you’d break my arm once and be done with me?

Hawk finds himself backing away.

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you, Hawk.”

Something in the way Demetri spits his new name finally gives him clarity.

“So what the fuck do you want from me?” he spits. “Why did you come here?”

“I came here because you were right. About everything.”

Any response is snatched from Hawk’s mouth.

For several seconds, all he can do is stare. Demetri smirks, apparently reveling in getting a leg up.

Hawk is so confused that he can’t even find it in himself to be angry. A strangled “what?” is all that comes out, pulling a snigger from his adversary.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out. Becoming the scariest fighter in the Valley. Making everyone quiver at the sight of you. Doing whatever you like because people aren’t brave enough to tell you no. Becoming your badass karate teacher’s little golden child. Getting rid of your weaknesses. Getting rid of me. But there’s one thing you got wrong.”

Typical Demetri. Monologuing around the point.

But Hawk is, nonetheless, finding his confusion turning to intrigue.

The mopey kicked puppy routine had gotten unbearably tedious. At least Demetri finally has the decency to give Hawk some variety.

“Oh, yeah?” He curls his lip. “What’s that?”

Demetri casually leans on Hawk’s dresser, like this is nothing more than a Friday night video game session.

“You think I avoid fights because I’m scared. But that’s not true anymore.” And there’s that grin again—that wide, unnerving grin that looks like it was pasted on from another human being’s face. The sort of manic look that would never in a thousand years belong on Demetri Alexopoulos.

“I avoid fights because I know who’s worth fighting. And who’s worth hurting.”

Well, that’s new.

Hawk narrows his eyes, trying to piece together if this is all some kind of trick.

“See, Eli, you were right that the world isn’t kind to people who get too soft.” Demetri starts sauntering over again, and that odd, metallic smell strengthens. “Or losers. Or weaklings. Or people who admit defeat. Give in too easily. Run off cowering and scared. So I’m shaking all that off. Next time I fight, I won’t lose.”

As Hawk pieces everything together, he scowls.

“So that’s what you want?” he hisses. “A rematch? Like you’d stand a chance.”

“So touchy. Do you only think of people in terms of whether you can beat them in a fight now? Boooooring.”

Demetri clicks his tongue disapprovingly. It’s a mocking gesture he’s been doing since they were little, but now something about it feels chilling.

Hawk’s back bumps his bedroom wall. Demetri’s closing in on him.

Fucking hell—he’s getting fed up with this cat-and-mouse. Why is he even entertaining this stupid nerd again?

It’s not like he gives a shit about him anymore. Then he wouldn’t snap his arm in half.

“Fuck off, Demetri!” he roars. “I fucking hate you. I don’t give a shit about anything you have to say! Get the hell out of my house, or I swear to god I’ll break your arm again.”

He fills the words with fire and force and poison, hoping something will hurt Demetri enough to make him go.

He can’t cave again. Not after he’s worked this hard to oust Demetri and everything he represents from his life.

Not after he’s severed Demetri’s bone with his own hands and smiled with his friends about it.

That should’ve been the last straw. That should’ve been what sent Demetri running for good, abandoning everything they’d once had to save himself.

But it didn’t. It fucking didn’t.

Demetri takes another step into his space, curling his lip. “You’re full of shit.”

“Fuck you.” Eli returns his stare, baring his teeth. “How are you so sure?”

“Because you hesitated.”

Hawk goes rigid.

“I begged you to stop.” Demetri’s hands slide onto the wall on either side of him, trapping him. “And you thought about it. You didn’t break my arm until all your psychotic teammates goaded you on. If you really hated me?” His voice drops to a breathy whisper. “You wouldn’t have even thought twice.”

“You don’t know shit.”

Demetri snickers.

“Poor little Eli. You’ve always sucked at arguing when you get backed into a corner.”

“I still broke it,” Hawk growls. “You know I can do it. Easily. So how are you stupid enough that you’re still fucking with me? You some kind of masochist?”

“You still care about me, Eli.” They’re inches apart now, Demetri leering over Hawk. “You never got over me not wanting to join your little club of sociopaths. Whenever there’s a rumble, you can’t stay away from me. And you want to know what I think?”

“Shut up.”

Demetri’s voice is husky in Hawk’s ear. “You wouldn’t hurt me when there’s no one to show off to.”

Hawk’s done with this.

He lunges, shoving Demetri’s chest and flying at him with an outstretched fist. He waits for that gratifying moment of shock—the familiar shift in Demetri’s features as he realizes yet again Hawk has no intention of going easy on him.

Demetri doesn’t even blink as he moves out of the way.

Hawk course-corrects, swiveling and diving for Demetri again. He throws the fastest punch he can manage straight at Demetri’s jaw.

Why the hell won’t he give up?

Demetri’s fantastic at giving up. He always has been. He gave up on standing up to bullies and he gave up on Cobra Kai and he gave up on Sensei Kreese.

So why won’t he give up on Hawk?

Demetri doesn’t dodge this time. He only swerves, allowing the fist to graze his chin.

He lets out a hiss of pain—angry, but not surprised.

Without warning, Demetri’s hands shoot up. Hawk freezes as long fingers snake across the skin of his arm.

The next second he’s screaming, Demetri’s hands twisting until his skin burns. The other boy’s grip tightens, thrusting him toward the floor.

He’s stealing my fucking moves again.

And frustratingly, he can do them fast. Hawk barely manages to use his other arm to shove Demetri off, stumbling back.

Even one moment of disorientation is too long. Demetri charges again, teeth bared like a wild animal.

One arm slams him against his bedroom wall while the other digs into his chest, squeezing the air out of him. And Hawk hates to admit it, but Demetri’s training-broadened shoulders have a terrifying amount of power behind them.

Nothing he can’t handle. Hawk’s taken on bigger opponents before.

He squirms in Demetri’s grip, his own arms loosening enough for his hands to make a grab for the taller boy’s throat. Then Demetri’s pinning hand is gone, slipping in and out of his jacket in what feels like less than a heartbeat.

Something cold and sharp presses Hawk’s throat. His hands drop, tensing against the wall.

“What the fuck…?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Eli.” Demetri tilts his head, pouting mockingly. “But you make it so damn hard to talk to you. Can’t do a thing without you coming at me like some kind of rabid coyote.”

“So you pull a…are you fucking insane?”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Red Hulk Rage Issues.” The pout morphs into a smirk. “Clearly, you’re not above playing dirty, using that sad little Eli voice of yours to get out of trouble. Figured it was time I caught up.”

Hawk feels something sticky dripping down his neck. His breath hitches in his throat.

He aims a hit at Demetri’s stomach. The taller boy bends with it, and the blade presses harder.

“Oh, come now.” Demetri tuts disapprovingly. “Don’t make me slit your throat.”

Hawk hardens his expression, channeling everything in him into hiding the shock.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think you’re in a great place to test that.”

And he’s right. Hawk hates it, but he’s right.

This isn’t the Demetri he knows better than the back of his hand. The Demetri he knows so uncomfortably well that he convinced himself over and over and over that it meant he was sick of the fucking geek.

This isn’t grounded, rational, sensible Demetri. Something’s snipped his threads, made him start fraying at the edges.

He’s unraveling, floating in an ether where the pragmatic and the path of least resistance that he made his life philosophy are losing their appeal. He’s…

Well, it seems he’s done some script-flipping of his own. Decided—perhaps on a whim—to overhaul everything Hawk knew and replace it with something cold and alien and completely fucking unpredictable.

Was this how Demetri felt, that day Hawk showed up at school with spiked hair and a conniving sneer? Is this some kind of payback?

He doesn’t care if this new boy with a knife to his throat killed and gutted the friend he grew up with. It doesn’t matter anymore. That relationship only ever got in the way, anyhow.

He truly could not care less. Honest.

The only emotion he feels is annoyance that this new opponent will be harder to match, with erratic moves and a quickly-thinning conscience.

This Demetri isn’t pulling any punches. One stupid or sloppy move, and Hawk will be on the floor gurgling his life out.

He’s never taken Demetri for someone impulsive, but perhaps he just had a talent for controlling his most brutal and primal urges—for his own safety, if nothing else. Perhaps he’s lost this ability.

Hawk wonders what it says about him that he isn’t bothered by this at all. If anything, he finds the whole concept exhilarating.

Fighting Demetri had gotten so boring. Now, at last, they’re on equal footing.

Regardless, there could be a trace of the Old Demetri yet. He might be able to use that.

“Put the fucking knife away or I’ll call the cops,” Hawk snarls. “Think you’ll get into Stanford with a police report on your permanent record? Or whatever fucking nerd school you’re trying to—”

“With what phone?” Demetri interrupts. “The one you left on the coffee table downstairs so it won’t distract you from wailing on your stupid bag?”

Fuck. How did Demetri even notice shit like that?

Hawk tries not to let the dismay show.

“When my mom gets home, she’ll—”

“Mommy’s not coming for you, Eli.” Demetri’s smirk widens. “Mommy’s getting drunk with all her friends to forget her unfulfilled suburban picket fence life with her nasty, violent delinquent of a son. And Mommy’s going to crash at Michelle Galinski’s house, just like she has every Friday night for the past 10 years. And oh dear…Daddy’s out of town on his top-of-the-month business trip? Looks like no one’s coming to save you.”

Fuck that. He can save himself.

Hawk makes a grab for Demetri’s wrist, other hand clawing at the arm compressing his chest. Demetri seamlessly lifts the elbow of his knife-holding arm and jabs the bony appendage into Hawk’s skin.

The knife blade doesn’t even falter, pressing more firmly into Hawk’s neck. A sting, and he feels something warm trickle toward his chest.

The scent from earlier intensifies, and Hawk realizes abruptly that it must have been blood.

“Mmmm-mmmm.” Demetri purses his lips and shakes his head, like he’s scolding a disobedient child. “It’ll make it much easier for both of us if you don’t act up. I really don’t want to cut your throat, but I will.”

As Demetri sneers down at him, Hawk realizes too late that he couldn’t cover his alarm.

“What? Don’t think I’d actually hurt you?”

The taller boy fiddles with the knife, sending little pricks of pain rippling through Hawk’s neck.

“I guess you know how it feels now,” he purrs.

Hawk spits in Demetri’s face, sudden fury overtaking him.

This pathetic nerd’s not going to make him feel bad now. Not after everything he’s done to crush the part of himself that possibly could feel bad.

“Fuck you.”

And slowly, never once breaking his gaze, Demetri licks Hawk’s saliva off his chin. The dim hallway light just catches the moisture on his face.

“Keep it in your pants, Moskowitz. We’re not there yet.”

Now Demetri’s definitely fucking with him.

It’s growing tiresome. Nonetheless, he doesn’t want that cut in his neck getting any wider.

There’s something distinctly unnerving about the way Demetri’s eyes are boring into him, sizing him up with a kind of cold contempt. Looking at him like he’s nothing more than some ugly insect to crush under his shoe.

It’s the sort of callousness that Hawk has never once—not in the entire time he’s known Demetri—been the target of.

And maybe he’ll admit it. He dislikes it for more than just the fact it throws him off.

Demetri is spiraling into someone unrecognizable, and the sheer foreignness of the whole process makes Hawk shudder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hawk’s voice is small and weak. Like Eli’s.

He doesn’t care.

His entire sense of reality—every absolute, irrefutable truth he’s ever attached to himself and his life and his oldest friend—is uprooting and spinning out of control, and it’s not like anything fucking matters anymore.

Demetri laughs—a sharp, hollow sound devoid of any real humor.

“Like you’re one to talk. I know what you did to Brucks.”

Hawk’s blood freezes.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Demetri’s knife slides from the cut on Hawk’s neck, beginning to tease the underside of his chin. “Mitch told us what happened. And I damn well noticed when Brucks stopped showing up to school. Nice of your war criminal sensei to help you cover that up.”

Hawk’s breath comes in quick, short gasps.

Of course Demetri put two and two together. Of course he’d gone snooping so he could find something else to hang over Hawk’s head.

And the fall of that knife might be worse than the one currently tickling his jaw.

Part of him hates it. Hates being reminded of that day and hates being reminded what he’s capable of. Hates remembering the sight of a living, breathing person crumpling to the floor, and realizing they would never get up again.

But Hawk isn’t stupid. If anyone can play Demetri’s games, it’s the person who knows him better than anyone in the world.

“Demetri.” He keeps his tone as calm and non-abrasive as he can. “Who else’s blood is on your knife?”

Because it was still wet when Demetri shoved it up against him. And Demetri’s a moron if he thinks Hawk missed that.

“Ah. And we finally get to that.” Demetri chuckles, gently tracing Hawk’s jawline with the honed edge. “You see…the difference between you and me, Eli, is that I don’t need anyone’s help to hide my bodies.”

His heart drops to his feet.

“What did you do?”

“Not any worse than you.” Demetri cocks his head. “I hurt someone who deserved it.”

“Demetri.” Hawk steels his voice. “What did you do?”

Because whatever it was, Hawk sure as hell needs to take the proper precautions to make certain he isn’t next.

“Stopped at the convenience store on the way over here.” Demetri follows the knife with his eyes as he talks, expression almost affectionate. “Ran into one of Kyler’s old buddies from the wrestling team. One of the kids who used to call us fags, remember? He thought it would be fun to shove me around. So I pretended I was running my ass away, and got him to chase me somewhere a little more…private.”

Hawk gapes at him.

“Did you really…?”

“Shanked the asshole like a pig. He was so surprised he didn’t even fight back. And let me tell you, it was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

And there’s that laugh again—the broken, disjointed chortles that feel so jarringly out-of-place. Green eyes shining with a frenetic light that makes Hawk’s hands grow slick with sweat.

Demetri leans in again, knife held steady as his lips brush Hawk’s ear.

“I know how it feels, you know. I know what it is to get so angry that you don’t even know what your body’s doing until it’s too late. Watch the life fade out of another human being’s eyes. Realize you like it. Sit there panicking about being some kind of inhuman monster and then suddenly realizing you don’t fucking care. And I suppose…I suppose that’s another reason you were right. There is a certain freedom in embracing that the world is cruel and cutthroat and unforgiving. In finally unmuzzling the wild animal thrashing around inside you and letting it hunt the way it was always meant to.”

Hawk shudders.

Sensei Kreese promised no one would ever find out about Brucks. Staged some kind of car accident or binge-drinking tragedy or drug OD or some other way stupid teenagers die all the time. Kyler was barred from the funeral, with Kreese worried (probably reasonably) that the dumbass would let something slip.

Kreese told the class that if anyone snitched, he’d be more than willing to look the other way as they met the same fate as Brucks.

Hawk hated how much he enjoyed it. He hated how after the deed was done, he couldn’t find a scrap of guilt in his psyche. It made him feel detached from himself—the abstract idea that doing that to another person was bad, but the complete lack of any emotions to back it up.

But that’s who he is now. No going back, he supposes.

Perhaps, on some level, he figured Demetri would pick up on this and leave him alone. Decide that Hawk’s path was too dark and too dangerous for his pasty basement nerd tastes, and stay huddled away with the Miyagi Dos singing kumbaya.

That would probably be best for him, anyways. Hawk still doesn’t know what other horrific shit he has it in him to do, especially when his victim pleaded so hard for mercy that would never come. When Brucks’ fruitless begging gave him an unmistakable rush.

And yet here Demetri is, claiming he was in a similar position. Claiming he lost control.

It isn’t that Demetri can’t put on an act if he needs to. But on some level, Hawk’s always been able to tell when his best friend is exaggerating or embellishing to make a story more interesting. There’s a kind of snarky undertone he uses, always giving that he isn’t completely serious. Subtle, but easy to pick up if you’re familiar with it.

There’s none of that here. If anything, this is the kind of emotional vulnerability Demetri never displays intentionally.

Until now, apparently.

Hawk bites his lip. “You’re not lying, are you?”

“You’re so cute.” The tip of the knife jabs into the underside of Hawk’s chin. “You thought I was some…what? Some sissy little do-gooder? The pinnacle of morality and mercy and all great virtues? No, no.” He giggles. “I’ve always been as fucked up as you. I only managed to keep it buried longer.”

Hawk scowls, suddenly remembering exactly who he’s talking to.

“Give me a fucking break. You joined the pussy-ass ‘defense only’ karate dojo. Your entire philosophy is about being sissy little do-gooders. Like you’d have the balls to pull even half the shit Cobra Kai—”

The knife flies back to the wound in his throat, Demetri using his arm to ram Hawk harder into the wall.

“You think I ever gave a flying fuck about Miyagi-Do?” he spits. “You think I’m some slavering pet like you, tripping over my little lapdog paws to appease my sensei’s every command? You think these asinine karate wars ever mattered to me? No.” He shoves his face into Hawk’s, blood on his breath. “You’re the one so obsessed with following orders that you can’t even remember who you were before you became some demented old man’s attack dog. You’re the one so drunk on loyalty to a fucking karate dojo that you can’t see none of this shit matters.”

Hawk bares his teeth, hoping with everything he has that Demetri won’t notice him shaking.

“Easy for you to say, when you pussied out after one punch in the face,” he sneered. “Of course you want to believe all of this is pointless when you’re on the losing team. But I’m not like you, Demetri. I’m no quitter.”

“Oh, how admirable.” The knife presses a little harder. “Tell me then, Hawk. How’s being on the same team as Kyler? As fucking Robby Keene? You excited for the chance to help them hurt Miguel again?”

Red-hot rage rips through Hawk. He lifts a leg and knees Demetri’s shin as hard as he can.

Demetri barely even winces. His other foot kicks up, ramming the side of Hawk’s knee. Hawk scrambles for balance, heart pounding as he just avoids falling into the knifepoint.

“Thought that’d hit a nerve.”

“Fuck you!” Hawk spits. “Keene was from your fucking dojo! You fought with him, too!”

“Not since he hurt Miguel.”

Demetri’s voice is frigid, rivaling the most biting winter rains. Every inch of him drips with a venomous hatred that Hawk has never seen before.

Not directed at him. Not directed at anyone.

“And now he’s in your dojo. Funny how that works.” Demetri clicks his tongue. “Guess your roaring rampage of revenge was all for naught.”

“It wasn’t.” Hawk curls his lip. “You were all responsible, and we got our paypack. It’s not our fault Miguel wasn’t grateful.”

“Ooooh, gotta love the Hawk’s impeccable logic! ‘Ah, yes, I think I will terrorize everyone in this dojo except for the person who actually almost killed my friend, who I will agree to team up with for some reason!’” Demetri returns his sneer. “Are you really such an obedient little bitch that you do whatever your precious sensei tells you? Even when you damn well know it makes no sense? You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

“Park and Keene know their place,” Hawk hisses. “They know I’m the alpha. They answer to me.”

Demetri cocks his head, looking amused.

“Even if I were to believe that. Do you like sharing a class with those assholes? Do you like knowing that if one of them were to get their ass handed to them by a Miyagi-Do or an Eagle Fang—by Miguel—that you’d be expected to rescue them?”

“I’d do it.” Hawk grits his teeth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I’d fucking do it. Sensei Kreese gave Sensei Lawrence and the others a chance to join back up with Cobra Kai, and they said no. Miguel chose his side.”

Demetri sighs, expression almost pitying.

“I guess ‘Cobra Kai for life’ trumps a Cobra’s desire to beat another Cobra into the damn ground. Kind of a shame. I think you’d enjoy hurting them.”

What Demetri said earlier circles back into his mind.

I avoid fights because I know who’s worth hurting.

Hawk straightens, keeping his composure.

“Sensei says we need all the allies we can get,” he says. “Even if we don’t like them. I’m putting up with Kyler and Robby long enough to win the tournament, and that’s it. Then I’ll find some way to weed them out.”

“I doubt it.” Demetri smiles down at him. If it weren’t for the knife, Hawk would punch his teeth in. “Contrary to how you act, I know you’re a smart guy. If you knew how to get rid of them, you would have already. No, Eli…” His voice drops to a purr. “You’re stuck with them, aren’t you?”

Hawk feels sick.

Leave it to Demetri to pinpoint his deepest fears—a karate clan filled with the worst people Hawk knew. Not a single friend to speak of, and a sensei with constantly divided attention.

Even Tory was turning out to be a fucking snake in the grass. She certainly took to the boy who nearly killed her ex with not an ounce of guilt.

And yet she believed with all of her being that Demetri deserved a broken arm for what Robby Keene did. That he was a pussy for crying out in pain. Actions didn’t matter to her—only the name branded across the merchandise you wore and the color of your gi at tournaments.

For the first time, the thought makes Hawk seethe.

All this time she’d seemed nothing but tough and fearless, but all she was was a shallow bitch who cared more about rank and status than a damn thing you actually did.

She was always going to hate Sam LaRusso for being rich and popular. She was always going to hate Miyagi Do for its association with LaRusso. But the second Keene bailed? Put on a belt with a cobra on it and showed off his snake-snatching skills?

She couldn’t wait to get on his dick. The filthy slut.

And suddenly Hawk realizes that he hates her, too. He hates so many of the people who are supposed to be his allies. But he can’t afford to think like that. And most of all, he can’t afford to let Demetri see it.

He glowers up at his ex-best-friend, keeping his gaze stony. “And why do you care? You have your posse of Miyagi losers to pal around with. Why do you give a shit what I do? Just go home to your little—”

“I left Miyagi-Do!”

The words come out in a forceful scream that practically knocks Hawk even further into the wall.

The sheer disdain in Demetri’s eyes for the group he had so cozily assimilated into sends Hawk reeling. He’d never—not in this lifetime or the next—expect Demetri to toss the whole lot of them out like garbage.

Demetri breaks into another grin, reveling in Hawk’s stunned silence.

“See, that’s another difference between you and I, Eli. I don’t need some washed-out old man telling me what to believe and how to fight. I can think for myself. And frankly, I got sick of the ‘safety in numbers’ business when it seemed ‘the numbers’ were always the ones who got to pick my enemies for me. And no one—” His eyes burn into Hawk. “No one decides that but me. I hurt who I like when I like, and I’ll fucking gut anyone who gets in my way.”

Hawk exhales slowly, keeping his scowl pulled tight.

“So…what?” Hawk sneers. “You’re going to fight Cobra Kai by yourself now? That’s so fucking stupid.”

“Not all of them. Some of your class are just brainwashed idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.” He sighs, shaking his head. “And you, Eli…well, I think you’ve lost sight of who your true enemy is. I was hoping I could help.”

“You really bounced?” Hawk narrows his eyes, still trying to make sense of everything. “After everything, you…just up and left?”

It can’t be that easy. He knows it wouldn’t be in Cobra Kai.

“Yeah.” Demetri shrugs. “And now I have way more time for important things.”

“I don’t get it.” Hawk’s frown deepens. “Why would you strike off on your own? Did something happen?”

“You happened.”

Short. Simple. Concise.

Completely baffling.

Not that that was anything new today.

Maybe it’s Hawk’s imagination, but the knife loosens a little.

“Don’t you get it?” For the first time all night, something like genuine anguish prods through Demetri’s voice. “I meant what I said. I never gave a rat’s ass about the karate wars, or the stupid dojo feuds. All I ever wanted was to be worth your fucking time again.”

All Hawk can do is stare.

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“And sure,” Demetri concedes after a moment. “At first, I wanted to do right by Mr. LaRusso. By Sam. They were the ones who taught me. Toughened me up into something worthwhile. Worked with all the shit you thought was a lost cause. But it was always a means to an end to stay relevant to you. Then after what happened with Moon, I genuinely thought the Miyagi-Do philosophy would help you. But I learned soon enough that you were in too deep for appealing to the Old Eli to work. No, I had to speak to you in your own language.”

He licks his lips as the knife starts to slide up Hawk’s neck again, dancing over the bottom of his chin and onto the plump skin of his lips.

“Aggression. Violence. Dominance.” He chuckles. “Wasn’t my go-to, but if it got your attention, I could make it work. And I guess I did, huh? I riled you up enough that you couldn’t leave me alone.”

“You wanted to piss me off?”

“If that’s what it took to keep you coming back for more.” And there it is again—that wide, sadistic grin that feels so brutally wrong. “You can leave me, Eli. You can disown me. You can shit on everything we had and make my life a living hell. But you can’t bring yourself to just ignore me. Because you’re so weak that you can’t bear to refuse the bait when I press your buttons. Because as much as you claim to hate me, you can’t move on from me.”

“And now you ditch your team to…what? Fight me on your own?” Hawk matches Demetri’s grin with one of his own. “I’d wreck you. And deep down, you know it.”

“So presumptuous.” Demetri shakes his head, tutting. “Frankly, I came here tonight because I’m sick of fighting you.”

“Says the one with a knife to my throat.”

“That’s because you don’t fucking listen without me having to resort to extreme measures,” Demetri hisses. “I think we’re a lot closer to being on the same page than you think. And maybe if you dropped this whole tribalism bullshit, you’d see that.”

So Demetri wants a truce. Hawk should have known.

He’s not surprised. But the way they arrived here?

Now that’s a twist.

It’s still an insane concept. Like he’s supposed to let his greatest enemy off the hook. Let Demetri get away with all the ways he’s undermined him and humiliated him and put the Old Eli—the weak, pathetic nerd Eli—on blast for all the world to see.

But if Demetri really left Miyagi Do…

Hawk finds himself wondering how much of his rage against the Miyagi Dos is his own, and how much is Sensei Kreese’s. And if Demetri’s truly deserted “the enemy,” does Hawk still have to hate him?

Does he even want to?

Demetri isn’t that pathetic, sniveling dweeb anymore. He’s crushed his old self as brutally as Hawk has.

Because the Demetri Hawk has known all his life could scarcely bring himself to cook with sharp knives, let alone use one to threaten another human being’s life.

Or take one.

But despite everything, something still doesn’t add up.

“I heard about your little rousing speech,” Hawk says. “About how important it was for Miyagi Do and Eagle Fang to unite against the ‘biggest assholes in the Valley.’ And now you’ve abandoned both of them. Was that all just a load of crap, then?”

Demetri is unfazed.

“Call me naïve, but I thought if Miguel and I were on the same team, you’d finally see some damn sense. You’d hurt me, sure. I’ve known that for a while. But I never thought you’d touch the kid you went on a vengeance quest for.” He shrugs. “Color me surprised when you wrote him off as just another enemy.”

“I told you.” Hawk works his fingers against the wall again, uneasiness trickling over his skin. “Miguel chose his side.”

“Be that as it may. I figured if you were so far gone that you were ready to wail on literally every person you used to be friends with, I needed to adjust my strategy.”

“For what?”

“For getting through to you. For getting you to tell the truth.”

And Hawk doesn’t want to think for too long about what truth Demetri has in mind.

“So you pull out a fucking knife.”

“Mhm.” Demetri snickers. “That’s how you communicate, yeah? Threats and intimidation?”

Hawk clenches his jaw. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Is that so.” The arm suddenly lifts from squeezing Hawk’s chest, long fingers seizing his wrist. He’s too surprised to pry them away.

He really should be expecting this kind of insane bullshit by now.

“Your pulse is going haywire, Eli,” Demetri murmurs. “Either you’re a liar, or something else has you energized. I wonder what that could be?”

It’s then Hawk’s mind fully catches up to its surroundings.

He rips his wrist away, pivoting away from the knife and sending a knee into Demetri’s ribs. The knife tip slices his cheek, but so be it. He’s endured worse.

Demetri gasps, stumbling back. Hawk makes a grab for the knife.

The taller boy is still too quick. He holds the weapon out of reach, using his other arm to thrust Hawk’s body back.

Before Demetri can do anything else, Hawk squats down and sweeps his leg. With a grunt, his opponent stumbles to the floor.

Something seizes Hawk’s ankles as he stands. He cries out as he’s yanked backward with surprising force, landing on the floor next to Demetri.

Hawk scrambles for the bed, trying to writhe out of Demetri’s grip and hoist himself up by the covers.

It’ll be over when I have the high ground.

What a stupid reference to think about.

It reminds him of the kind of game he and Demetri might have once played. Whoever made it onto the bed would get to be Obi-Wan, and whoever stayed on the floor would have to be Anakin, drowning in lava.

The idea leaves him feeling strange.

Demetri doesn’t let go, snarling like a hyena as he tries to tug Hawk back. The knife teases his skin, an imminent threat if he makes any moves too sudden.

He’d kick the annoying asshole away from him, but he doesn’t want the sole of his foot sliced open. If he can’t walk, he can’t fight.

Suddenly, Demetri cries out, grip loosening. In Hawk’s struggles, he must’ve rammed into a sensitive spot. He yanks himself free, scrambling onto the bed and frantically trying to plan his next move.

He realizes his mistake a half-second too late.

Demetri, gleefully bluffing, rises to his full height. Smirking, he pounces like a jaguar.

He lands heavily on Hawk’s stomach, slamming him against the bed. The back of his head smacks against the headboard, filling his vision with stars.

He barely has time to let out a pained gasp before Demetri’s knees are digging into his quadriceps, pinning him again. Growling, he aims a punch at Demetri’s throat.

His fist meets its target, pulling a strangled gasp. Hawk clasps his arms around Demetri’s torso, trying to thrust him off the bed.

For a moment they struggle, yanking and shoving wildly in an attempt to gain an advantage. Then Hawk feels long arms wrap around his back, bony fingers clutching at his throat.

The tingling pain of blade against skin, and Hawk realizes Demetri kept hold of his knife.

Whenever I think he’s finally going to drop that damned thing…

The knife jabs into him, strengthening its grip until he’s pressed flat on his back. At last Demetri loosens his grip, sizing up his victim with a satisfied beam.

Hawk squirms, bed creaking as he does his best to jostle Demetri off. The other boy holds fast, gazing down at him with a pitying look.

The blade digs in again, and Hawk’s struggles weaken.

“Come now. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Let. Me. Go.”

“I don’t believe I was finished.”

Demetri tilts his head to the side, breaking into another crazed grin that sends dread trickling straight down to Hawk’s bones.

“Shut up Demetri.”

“I see you staring at me. All this time, and all these girls you tried so hard to fuck, and everything always comes back to your stupid middle school infatuation.”

“SHUT UP!”

Hawk squeezes his eyes shut, trying to bleach Demetri’s cold, smug expression from his mind.

“Right after you had your Bar Mitzvah, you asked me to kiss you. You figured since I already had mine, we were both adults now. And adults do grown-up things like kissing.”

“STOP IT!”

And suddenly Hawk is screaming at the top of his lungs because he knows where this is going. Because they were just stupid kids, and that can’t mean anything.

“I said of course I would, because I’d always liked you, Eli.” Demetri’s voice only grows louder—more insistent. “And I go in to give you a peck, and you grab my arms and stick your entire tongue in my mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Demetri!”

He feels something wet dribbling down his face, and wonders if the cut on his cheek got stretched wider in his and Demetri’s scuffle. It’s certainly stinging enough for it.

Unless…

Hawk wishes he could dissolve.

“I told you I’d kiss you a thousand more times if you wanted.” Demetri’s voice has grown sharper than his blade. “And I would have. And for a long while, I thought there might be the most infinitesimal possibility that you felt something, too. Now I know I was right.”

He laughs, the sound acrid and bitter and full of flint.

“Because even after everything, you’re still obsessed with me. You watch me across the lunchroom and pretend you’re ‘monitoring the enemy,’ but I know you miss me. You miss when I made you laugh, and you miss when I talked to people so you didn’t have to. You chase me around in every battle, but when it comes right down to it, you can’t hurt me in any significant way until you’re bullied into it. You pick fights with me so you can put your hands all over my body and not have anyone look at you askance for it.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Maybe if he screams loud enough, Demetri won’t pay too much attention to the wet trails smearing the blood from his cuts.

Caustic breath is hovering inches above Hawk, misting onto his lips. Still, he refuses to open his eyes.

“It must be exhausting, you know,” Demetri whispers. “Living your life in denial like that. Wearing your entire personality like some cheap Halloween costume and convincing yourself that’s a fulfilling existence. Don’t you want to be free?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Hawk growls. “I do whatever I like. It’s not my fault you don’t like who I really am.”

“Who you really are, hmmm?” Demetri’s lips brush his earlobe, voice a barely-audible murmur. “So tell me the truth then, Eli. Do you still want me?”

The bluntness of the question almost blows a hole in his composure.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Stop fucking lying!”

All at once, Demetri’s voice is a deafening, furious scream again. The knife slices Hawk’s jaw.

Not enough to do any real harm, but enough to really hurt. Hawk freezes, held prisoner by the burst of sharp, sudden pain.

“It’s always lies, lies, lies with you,” Demetri snarls. “Fake name. Fake hair color. Fake personality. Fake interests. Fake friends who only kiss the ground you walk on because they’ve never seen you at your weakest. Fake relationships with girls you barely let know you—to the point you think they’d leave you for liking to code. And the absolute drivel you feed yourself that this goddamn farce is what you want to live in forever. You think you’re starring in some martial arts epic, and you’re so wrapped up in your stupid method acting that you never want to step offscreen. Like everyone’s on the edge of their seat about your pitiful life like it’s the fucking Truman Show. And at the end of the day? You’re still too much of a pussy to tell me the truth.”

Hawk’s skin tingles, shivers rippling through him. If his heart was pounding before, it’s thundering now.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like fear. He’s used to this new version of Demetri enough not to cower from him.

No, it’s something far worse. And Demetri knows it.

“You can’t hide from me.” The other boy’s tone drips with haughtiness, savoring the ability to confirm Hawk’s worst fears. “I see right through your bullshit. I always have. So I’ll ask you one more time. Do you want me?”

The knife slides down to Hawk’s throat again, pressing firmly.

“Lie and I’ll kill you.”

He’s probably bluffing. Maybe. Surely.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter anymore. Sprawled out on his childhood bed, underneath the only other person he frequently shared it with.

The person he used to watch sleep, wondering wistfully if the freak with the lip scar ever made it into his best friend’s dreams.

He opens his eyes and finally meets Demetri’s gaze, in all of its searing, insurmountable beauty.

“Yeah.”

He breathes it out quiet and fragile—a soft promise. A rare moment of openness that he lets free of his unbreakable shell.

Demetri drops the knife. It falls behind the bed, thumping onto the carpet below.

He swoops down, seizing Hawk’s neck and yanking him up. When their mouths meet, Hawk is nearly thrown back with the force of it.

Demetri kisses like a starved animal, lapping and nipping in a crazed frenzy. The weight of his muscle-toned body is crushing, locking Hawk firmly against the mattress.

He tastes like blood and cold steel and cruelty. Hawk shudders.

This time, he’s certain it isn’t fear. It’s a rush he only thought he could get from smashing his fists against plastic or skin, or feeling another person’s body go limp and lifeless underneath his.

And it’s ironic. The more Demetri tries to devour Hawk, the more Hawk wants to let it happen.

There’s an odd satisfaction to it, he thinks. Being completely at someone else’s mercy.

And Demetri isn’t fighting with any.

***

OKAY, time for some #authorrants because I feel like some of the choices I made in this fic are. Controversial, to say the least. Lmao.

So something that has bugged the crap out of me for a while now is people in this fandom acting like there is any world where Demetri would choose Robby over Miguel. I remember after S3 dropped, there was a lot of "dId tHeY fOrGeT tHe dEmEtRi-rObBy FrIeNdShIp" type sentiment floating around irt why Demetri didn't stay in contact with Robby the way Sam and the LaRussos did. Maybe it's because, I don't know, Robby threw the guy Demetri never actually stopped being close friends with over a balcony and almost killed him???

Like. Not that these showrunners don't ever forget things, but this absolutely is not one of them. Robby paralyzing Miguel is a BEYOND valid reason to sever ties with him, especially when you were just casual dojo bros for a couple months tops. When push came to shove, Demetri pretty unequivocally CHOSE MIGUEL. He brought him a comic book in the hospital! He was thrilled to see him back at school and picked up their friendship right where it left off! He DOES NOT VISIBLY FORGIVE ROBBY UNTIL MIGUEL DOES! Idk idk it just really riles me when people do not take Demetri and Miguel's friendship into account when discussing the Demetri-Robby relationship and why they stopped being friends when they did. Tbh I don't think it's that hot of a take to assume Demetri would have more loyalty to the guy who befriended him when he was a nobody and proceeded to be one of his closest ride-or-die friends for a whole-ass year over the guy he was casual buds with because they happened to share a karate instructor -_____- I could go on about this for several more paragraphs, but that's a rant for another day.

(As far as the LaRussos go, they were all closer to Robby and were basically his adoptive family, which is why they--particularly Sam--were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say the Miguel thing was an accident. Demetri didn't know Robby well enough to make that call, and had no actual proof it WAS an accident except for maybe Sam's word.)

Some other things to ramble about:

I remember in some interview a while back (I think with Martin Kove?) someone asked about Hawk and Marty or whoever was being interviewed said he was "on his way to being a serial killer" or smth. And Jacob's talked a little bit about the kind of escalating delinquent shit Hawk would get up to if he was never redeemed, etc. So going with that: Bold of y'all to assume the kid simping for Hawk since episode 1 wouldn't renounce his morals and join him on the path to villainy. Sorry but I truly believe Demetri's horniness for Hawk can and would win out over any ethical qualms in the end. Also Demetri is horny for violence and evil this is canon otherwise he would in fact not have simped for S3 Hawk so PAINFULLY BADLY god bless

Also this was partly inspired by those post-S3 jokes that were like "lol what happened to Brucks??? Did Hawk kill him???"...well, what if he did, tho? O_____O

Disclaimer that I promise I do not endorse the Tory slut-shaming!!! Tbh I didn't really wanna write it, but...I think given the circumstances, Hawk WOULD be pretty furious at her for getting chummy with Robby and "betraying" Miguel. And unfortunately, since he's a teenage boy with (canonical!) misogynistic tendencies...I do think that would most likely come across as slut-shaming D: But y'all have brains y'all know I don't condone everything I write about aknhdksuyhf (Murder is probably not something you should try at home either btw)

Hopefully I didn't make Hawk too weaksauce in this ^^; My excuses are a) I suck at writing fight scenes and tend to just want to get to the psychosexual dialogue and knife-teasing, so. If I rushed anything to get there I apologize. b) Going by the school fight, Hawk is indeed thrown off when Demetri takes the offensive (especially in a super dramatic kind of way) and his confused pause is in fact enough time for Demetri to get an advantage and c) The man is thrown off his game!!! Thrown off his groove, even!!! His sissy pussy nerd ex-friend shows up acting like a disturbed maniac and he is so O_____o about it that his moves are off!!! He's sucking a little but it's not his fault 💔It's Demetri's for subverting expectations 💔

I also feel like if Demetri started McFucking Losing It and was generally less grounded in the physical and rational world, physical pain wouldn't register quite as much. Like he's in his head enough now that he's kinda lost his grip on reality and things happening in the physical world don't seem as relevant or immediate, if that makes any sense? Also idk. Maybe after the arm break his pain tolerance just went up :O Anyways that's why he recovers pretty fast when Hawk DOES land a hit. Demetri is nuts now 💙

I will die on my hill that Demetri like. Really REALLY isn't as morally upstanding as people like to think XD Like I say this with love but from the top he's been a self-interested little shit who just happens to be extremely loyal to the very small handful of people he actually likes. My dudes, he didn't join Miyagi Do because he liked their philosophy better--he joined because they were less on board with punching him in particular in the face XD This dude saw Cobra Kai being fucks and playing dirty at the AVT and he STILL up and says "I wanna come back because I like the 'safety in numbers' aspect of joining a gang" XD I always got the vibe the "well at least I'm not an asshole LIKE YOU" he throws at Eli later is more because he likes to feel self-righteous. I say all of this as his biggest fan btw. I think more people should embrace the self-interested king he is and write about him and Eli being absolute dicks together instead of to each other 💖

I guess that's what I'm here for!!!

Anyways I think Demetri and Eli have the same potential to be absolutely horrific people, and I think we're all very lucky that Demetri was too lazy to challenge his comfort zone and stick with Cobra Kai XD We're very fortunate he happened to end up using his speed and his brains to help his friends who happened to be on the Good Guy Side rather than his friends who happened to be on the Bad Guy Side.

I also think people put WAY too much stock in Demetri's ability to staunchly stick with the good guys and have enough of a moral backbone to just keep opposing Eli's douchebaggery indefinitely. My mans is NOT that much of a saint, trust. From how quickly he forgave Eli for a HUGE number of atrocities, he seemed to be like. Waiting on his ass for Eli to come back to him. And if Eli never did???

I mean. Bruh. Someone you've been deeply in love with for years throws you out like last night's trash and just progressively starts being more and more awful to you??? You think it's feasible for my boy Demetri to stay strong and sane and reasonable forever, and just keep on fighting the good fight??? HELL NO. This dude is either a) quitting karate and moving schools so he doesn't have to deal with constantly being pummeled by the dude he's in love with or b) going completely fucking insane from the cognitive dissonance of being in love with a dude who constantly beats his ass.

Listen. I have been in love. If my friend who I was in love with turned evil and joined an evil karate school and started wailing on me all the time, I would either pull an Aisha and haul ass out of there or I would simply lose my mind and become evil. Go full Jinx from Arcane. Sorry if you're a hater who doesn't think Demetri Alexopoulos has it in him to go apeshit, but you're wrong and also boring. The funny kooky comic relief guys are always one thread away from losing their shit because everyone assumes because they're funny and kooky they have no depth and no end to their bullshit tolerance. I would know because I am one of these Guys in real life. Put some respecc on my boy's name and also give him another knife 🔪

For anyone looking at me askance like "Demetri doesn't have it in him to kill!" Yes he does. I'm sending him over to your house to stab you right now 🩵

No fr tho, like there was MURDER in this man's eyes when Kyler was bullying Eli in the library. There was MURDER in this man's eyes fighting Robby at the AVT in S4. I have full confidence that if he could get away with stabbing his enemies, he would. So would Eli but I feel like this is a less contested opinion.

Also this is interesting so it's something I might go into detail about in another post, but one thing I noticed while kinda brainstorming how Demetri would snap is that Demetri is loyal to people, while Eli is loyal to concepts and ideas.

Demetri I don't think is actually that married to or slavish about MD principles tbh. Demetri isn't really averse to violence conceptually (even back in S1 it's only ever about him disliking BEING hit, not disliking hitting people!!) and doesn't actually do the defense-only thing that often. Several times we see him instigate with Hawk, or help Sam instigate with CK in general. The times we see him stick his neck out to really help Miyagi Do, he seems like he's doing so more out of loyalty to his friends (namely Sam, Chris, and Nate--also Miguel irt the dojo team-up at the end of S3) than loyalty to Miyagi Do as a dojo.

Eli, meanwhile, is way more loyal to concepts he puts a lot of stock in than the people in his life who challenge this. He sees Cobra Kai as this almighty saving grace that is for LIFE, and he doesn't think twice about ditching Demetri and Miguel when they turn their backs on it. He stays in this dojo even as his friends leave and it fills up with people he hates, and his sensei dismisses and ignores his concerns. Because this dojo saved him from his horrible, bullied life, and now he feels like he owes everything to the Cobra Kai name, despite who's actually behind the name. Also why I think Demetri uses "my karate dojo needs your help!" as the selling point to get Eli to join MD in S4. HIS motivation is probably much more that he just wants him and Eli to stay together, but he knows Eli values dojo loyalty above everything, so Dem kinda makes it more about that than friendship.

Anyways! That's all for now! The whole fic should be up on my AO3 sometime in December :3

[nitpickrider]

*Clark gets a far away look in his eye as he flashes back to the Superman BS he had to deal with over the last 48 hours. He hasn't slept since Friday* "Yes Lois...Lazy weekend..." Action Comics 188

[someone-always-cares]

chapter 5, page 48

first - previous - next

[image description: an sac webcomic page. "seems like a normal kitchen. coast's clear, but it's locked." jade says, off panel. theres a view of the kitchen from the outside. no acual kitchen appliances are shown, but there is a island counter, and a few shelves in the back with various items, notably camera equipment, cleaning supplies, and assorted boxes. "we'll have to break in here, everything else is boarded. you remember what i taught you about breaking glass?" she continues. "yeah. it'll be loud though" lewis replies. "we'll just have to take whoever hears us." jade states, the panel now showing jade hiding to the side of the window, looking at it out of the corner of her eye, while lewis has wandered off and is kneeled down to pick up something off the ground. "this glass seems sturdier than the wine glasses lewis practiced with... can he do it? i've never been able to get the frequency right, but surely any glass will break with a loud enough noise?" jade thinks to herself, looking through the window, still to the side of it, while frowning contemplatingly. she seems to be unaware of lewis behind her, raising the brick he just picked up like one would when preparing to pitch a baseball, and sticking his tongue out in concentration. end id]

yall are getting a treat with me drawing actual backgrounds the past few pages! my computer fucking hates it and has tried to crash my art program many times but im not losing to a fucking machine so the page is ready to go! and yeah i didnt think to google what a broken wire fence looks like until typing this

anyway some life updates. next page may be a little late, i have a convention this weekend (if anyone is headed to animeleague london anime and gaming festival this weekend feel free to say hi! its the one with the star fairy lights and like. my art in it? yeah. also for the same con in birmingham in a couple weeks)

also ended up getting those wooden pride cat pins! or the charms, i need to glue the actual pin bits in and that tomorrow's task!! and even more importantly, i've started the process of trying to make sac into an actual printed comic!! so far it seems like im just going to start with chapter 1, because with the printer im thinking of using, anything over 76?ish pages is automatically more expensive so currently only have the funds for chapter one (50ish pages inc bonus and prologue).

also because turns out theres more work than i thought. theres some things like getting the colours cmyk ready and fixing typos and other errors, there is some size problems (the first 6 pages in particular need to be redone entirely but not much of a loss. they look.... Not Great. maybe prologue too). also some "accidentally lost some files and the backups of said files in an external drive related incident a couple years ago" but i've got my best experts on the case (asking my dad for help). i also need to change the font since the old pages are using the old version of the font. also a front cover because i never made a cover for chapter 1. anyway. its a start

anyway this was long i really needed to sleep a few hours ago lol. its only 1am but its been a day

[laureljacobs]

LAUREL JACOBS

full name: laurel jane jacobs

pronouns & gender: she/they, nonbinary

birthday & birthplace: november 19, 1984 (40); austin, tx

location: seabrook quarter

time in aurora bay: since november 2021

sexuality: lesbian

occupation: lawyer

@aurorabayaesthetic

about.

laurel was born in austin, texas, and she's country girl at heart even if she won't readily admit it. they've always got a patsy cline or dolly parton record going at home, but that's the extent of what they'll let other people see in terms of their southernness.

(alcoholism, neglect tw) her early home life was bad. her mom left at an early age and her dad was a functioning alcoholic who just worked, drank, and slept, and he just couldn't take care of her. they went into the foster system when they were six, after a CDC call when their neighbor noticed they was alone for more than 48 hours once. her dad got visitation and she spent the occasional weekend at home.

foster care wasn't good either. the homes were always underfunded and crowded, even when the parents did what they could. laurel learned quickly that there was a hierarchy in these places, and they learned to sleep with a metaphorical shiv under their pillow. they grew up with no sense of home or family, and it really fucked them up!

but she was always smart. unlike many of the kids around her, she stayed in school and focused on her work, cutting out any extra noise to do so. to cope, they just buried everything deep, deep down. she got into texas a&m for college, which wasn't her first choice, but she went for the in-state tuition. it's a party school, so they indulged occasionally and made a few friends for the first time ever, but they grinded all the while.

undergrad finished, and they went straight to law school — nyu, their first choice, which was also completely free and gave them a nice stipend, but they still took part time jobs through law school to chip away at their student debt. after getting her JD and passing the bar in new york, she got a job as public defender.

she stayed for a few years, until she was 28, but the work was starting to bog her down quickly. the complete lack of choice she had over who she represented often clashed with her morals, when she found herself advocating for people she knew were guilty of sometimes pretty heinous crimes.

so, with a good amount of money saved by then and nothing keeping her tied to new york, she quit, packed up her life, and moved to montana, specifically to the blackfeet nation, where her mother was from. they'd never known their mother, but they knew of their indigenous ancestry and had done a lot of their own reading into it. going there was a huge leap for them emotionally and spiritually, having spent almost 30 years feeling disconnected from any kind of heritage, but they eventually decided they could have a lot more to gain than to lose.

she settled in and opened a practice out of her home, though she was frequently working for pretty low pay or pro bono outright. she was sort of a one-stop shop because she was sometimes willing to work for free, able to flex a lot of different muscles outside of her speciality in criminal law.

they were there for a long time, almost ten years, and had really started to feel like they were making a life. they felt connected to the people and them and the land they were living on more than they ever had before, and life was quiet in a way it'd never been.

but then one day, laurel heard a knock on her door and answered it to someone who introduced themself as their half-sibling through their mother, and it was sort of comical how fast laurel ran. she'd managed to reconcile a lot of things with herself in her adulthood, but her relationship to her parents and her upbringing was never something she let herself confront.

they chose aurora bay basically by just putting their finger down blindly on a map, moved, took the bar in california, and quickly set up an office out of their home again, using some of the connections they'd made throughout their career to get contacts and clients early and get things moving from the get go. life's been quiet since then.

laurel is spiky, very slow to trust, and doesn't know how to take care of herself at all. they live in a big house in seabrook quarter that they maintain immaculately, has taken the batteries out of all of the smoke alarms so they can smoke inside, and has nothing but basics in their fridge. at her best, she's jocular and witty, and at her worst she's explosive.

family.

mother: minnie hudson (unknown)

father: jonah jacobs (estranged)

tidbits.

she's not very up front about her not-cis gender identity and use of mixed pronouns, but it's really because she has no interest in having a serious talk about her identity with everyone she meets, most of whom she doesn't really care to know past an initial conversation. if someone asks directly, laurel's happy to tell, and if they're ever in a situation where the need to be referring to themself in the third person, they'll switch out the pronouns. if others catch on, they catch on, but she's not incredibly pressed about it herself

a little bit of a jock, though she would never admit that. loves baseball and hockey, plays softball in a rec league like the little lesbian she is

(alcoholism tw) laurel has a complicated relationship to alcohol; on one hand, they know what it did to their father and know that being his child probably makes them predisposed to the same tendencies, but on the other they're entirely sure that they're different and smarter and actually they could stop whenever they wanted to.

connections.

ex-girlfriend of @katrinaxbeauford

close friend of/don't make her think too hard about it she'll have a crisis @margaretxalexander

went to high school in texas with @benj-hyun

bar regulars/frequent drunk debate partner w/ @clint-bennet

softball teammates w/ @cassidyxcooke

employed by @willxmeyers, @colexwalters

friend of @delilahcarreno

forever trying to steal @cricketcampbell away from her clients

foster kids who made it out alive club/avid shipper of @thewrenxharlow, @nomadjones

[yosttravis]

163 Minutes in Boston

Follow on Strava

So about fifteen months ago, I signed up for my first 140mi Ironman. And then I trained a ton for it, and wrote about it. All-time experience.

But I got hurt during the early parts of the run and sort of slogged through it. And that just ate me alive, especially since (a) it was my first true marathon; and (b) I'm a much better runner than swimmer or cycler by nature.

That week I set a goal to qualify for Boston, and ran my second marathon in Utah, and qualified at 2:57, and wrote about what I did to run a sub-three. And you guys really liked that.

So let's talk about the Boston Marathon, which I ran over the weekend! I'll cut to the chase first -- the title was the giveaway, finishing 2:43 and 870th in my third (second?) full distance marathon.

For a fake runner, I was [mostly] happy. More on that later. Notes, race day details, and stats/splits to follow.

Training and Random Notes

On the plus-side of things, my training has been limit up over the last 12-months. Fitness levels, not a problem. Not at all. I do a lot more cross-training than most pure runners, which has it's benefits and drawbacks. But using Garmin's Intensity Minutes as a proxy, you can see how much we moved this needle up in recent months:

(That VO2 MAX is ripping ....)

On the minus-side of things, mostly everything else, at least for this race.

The worst winter (ever, and I mean EVER) in the Western United States. Running volume down as a result. Endless snow, frigid temperatures, and it's still going on.

An injury, which I've been lucky to avoid for a long while now. Twitter (TWITTER!) diagnosed the injury accurately -- popliteus tendinopathy, rare for most people, more common in runners and triathletes. Physical therapy affirmed. Lot of strength and mobility work, and we eventually went from 'sharpshooting pain' and 'aborted runs' in February to 'manageable'. It hasn't improved much beyond manageable. This also took running down some bit further on top of just horrific weather.

Generally speaking, I ran only about 30-40 miles a week during this 'down period', and in some weeks fewer than that. You can see how much I took it down (measured in mins)"

But I was religious about time on feet and cross-training. And those stairs. We kept on those stairs. More on that in a minute.

Race Morning Thoughts

Initially, I set a goal for 2:50:00. I knew that was a sandbagged number relative to my fitness, but I had concerns that my leg would hold up at the tail end of the race (especially in the infamous hills of Boston). Moreover, the weather was horrific. Just comical. The northeast has had the most pleasant winter in the history of mankind, and in typical April-in-New-England fashion, the marathon turned into intermittent monsoons and a sustained headwind. This was in the forecast in advance, and so I figured considering the factors at play.

I said I was bullish on fitness, but I was also bullish on nutrition. There are a lot of people I've learned who struggle (and struggle immensely with this) -- finnicky stomachs, indecisiveness, whatever. I train very early in the mornings and as soon as I'm done, it's one of my two jobs on deck, so breakfast is usually just a shake. That said: I tail-end eat a lot. I cannot remember the last day (in months) that I have not had at least two dinners. Eating so much late at night has it's drawbacks, but my body has grown well accustomed to storing and using for tomorrow morning's abuse. If you follow on Strava, you know there are a lot of hours in those early morning banks, and usually at harder intensities.

On that nutrition point: I really didn't have to overthink it much, because my caloric burn (~ 2.6k, let's call it) was only about 36 pct more burn than the average training day. Which isn't insignificant! But I imagine people who do not have heavy and sustained volumes have to get much more careful with loading 48-hours out from race, 24-hours out from race, etc.

With a relatively full stomach from the night prior, morning was easy: bagel and cream cheese, granola, honey stinger waffles (the GOAT of pre-workout food), and fluids.

Changed up the shoes this time around. I'm a firm believer in Nike for speed and HOKA for training/comfort. I usually race in Vapors, PR'd a 1/2 back on 9/11 in D.C (1:16). But it was in a monsoon, logged out the shoes something bad. So I went for the Alphas this time around. If you don't have a pair of Alphas, go get one. Worth it.

The Race

For anyone who is ever interested in running Boston, let me tell you a few quick things. One, it's a lifetime experience, full stop, it's not marketing and it's very real. Two, it's extremely secure, owing to previous events. Three, because it's extremely secure, it can feel cumbersome at times. Waiting around in Athletes Village for hours in cold weather and rain, with little to no cover -- not ideal. But everyone was in good spirits and by and large just trying to stay warm.

My qual time was good enough for wave one, but the congestion for the first five miles was insane. You really were running elbow-to-elbow for some bit of time. I stuck to the sides to try and at least hold a respectable pace (6:30 range) until it could thin out some.

The weather was a challenge the entire race. The cool temperatures kept the heart rate down (I only averaged 165 for the race, despite pushing some), but the sustained 20-25 mph headwind and intermittent heavy rain was a problem, and slowed the race considerably.

At the halfway mark, I was 1:19 range (tracker had 1:20 -- I of course ran more distance than needed, weaving in/out of crowds a few times). Still had full energy at this point, though my right knee was starting to bother a bit. At any rate, I knew I could carry this pace through the rest of the race, more or less.

The areas where the crowds are in Boston? Second to none. The energy is real. Really real. If you have music on, you won't hear it. And you don't want to hear it. Just a truly amazing experience and so laudable for the city -- these people want to motivate every runner, and man you get juiced up from it.

Take your pick: I either thought the hills around miles 16-20 were a bit overrated, certainly more of a mental challenge than anything. I don't say this as a running snob (I'm a fake runner, remember), I do say this as someone who swears by stairs and incline work. In every one of these races I seem to make up considerable time on comparable runners when going uphill. And though my pace grinded down expectedly climbing the hills, it was very comfortable and I didn't want to push my knee (now starting to bother a fair bit) to the point of no return. I trimmed my pace by about 20-25s in the last few miles for this reason. Pure fitness wise, I do think I could've held up the ~ 6:10 pace for about 33 to 35-miles or so, give or take. I do think I missed a couple of opportunities around miles 7-11 to gap down more aggressively, lesson learned there.

I ended 2:43. A bit disappointed to be blunt. I think with a healthy right leg, or better wx conditions, I could've given 2:39:59 a real run.

Most importantly: critical advertising for the worldwide leader. Go Bills.

Time for the next test. I left a lot on the table, and it's already bothering me!

Splits and Stats

[crayonurchin]

🦋☁️🍸🌷🍬🐥

🦋 tell us about your current wip:

I'm currently 4 chapters into my third book in my currant series. It's called The Night of The Night Knight, and follows the progression of the characters from the last two books. This book has themes of the price of gentrification, questioning if blood is thicker than water, the reliance of young female friendships and a whooooole lot of potato puns.

☁️ wip you want to write but haven't started yet:

I want to finish this middle grade series first but afterwards, I'd like to try and write an older read for a story I've had for a while called A Weekend Of Grief, a present day sci fi about a clinic that can condense the grieving period into a single weekend, letting you past track a very painful process by experiencing all that pain in one horrid 48 hour period. The book follows a 17 year old protagonist stricken with grief after her last conversation with her grandmother is an argument, only to learn she died in the night. She's so distraught she's unable to sit a crucial exam for university entry, so her parents pay to send her to the clinic, where we see many others also struggling with unique problems, desperate to be over their pain.

🍸 character who inspired your mc

The two main characters in my current WIP are Penny the goblin and Gutters Nipe the human.

Penny is inspired by an old d&d character I played called Wakley, a goblin cleric that was a surgeon before she was a cleric. Penny is a herbalist with a deep rooted special interest in making natural medicines. She's also massively inspired by Gracie Gillypot from the Robe Of Skulls series, for her kind and empathetic nature, with an ability to gently yet firmly stand up for her own beliefs.

Gutters is inspired by a character from my webcomic Urchin Quest, Scallywag. Impulsive, quick to anger, energetic and deeply emotional. She's also inspired by Kelsey from Craig Of The Creek for the creative and playful nature, with a strong moral compass, anxiety struggles and occasional weakness of forward thinking

They're also, like, pure Autism meets Pure ADHD, and their dynamic makes me smile

🌷 writing achievement you want to brag about

I wrote two books. Like. I wrote two full books. I illustrated them, I got prints made, I sold them at conventions and I sell them online. I'm trying to find an agent I can work with to become published. I want to do this as a sustainable work thing. Just today I wrote two draft chapters for the third book, and I'm happy with them even though focussing for that long is really tricky for me.

Like, if I told little baby me that I'd even write ONE book as an adult, I'd have been so so happy about it. So yeah. I wrote two books and I'm writing a third, that's my achievement and I'm super pleased about it.

🍬 a song for your favourite character

... So Penny and Gutters are loved genuinely equally because they're one such separate yet joint paths, so instead, here's a song that's a little spoiler for book three regarding them both :3

🐥 here's some writing motivation!

Thank you, little chicken emoji! I'm excited to write more later this week! I'm trying to write every Tuesday and Thursday so I can have book three ready for October MCM ComicCon!

I've had return customers at comic con for my books... it's insane that even one person likes my writing.

[enbycrip]

@melgillman Thank you so very much for this comic.

I miscarried foetuses; from my own ova and gifted ones for IVF.

This helped.

Thank you.

The Night-Mother

Under the cut is the comic I drew for this year’s 24 hour comics day/48 hour comics weekend!  This is an adult horror comic, and it comes with some content warnings: miscarriage, child loss, violence, death, and nudity.

If you saw an earlier version of this post and couldn’t read the images, my apologies!  This is real beast of a comic, clocking in at 24 pages, so it takes a little extra work figuring out how to get around tumblr’s image limits.  I think it should hopefully read a little better with all the images under a cut, though.  ENJOY!

Keep reading

[russianstudyblr]

Week 16 Overview

Hello, happy Friday! Today was a good week. I really got back on track from last week, and since there’s a three-day weekend this weekend I hope to get even more ahead for Week 17. 

Good stuff from this week: 

We switched up our class sections (which isn’t necessarily a good thing because I really liked my old section) but my new section is also very good, and I’m still sitting next to my battle bestie as of right now, so that’s good. 

Got an 81 and an 87 on the Reading and Listening Mid-Mod 4 exams, but the teacher did say she graded us suuuper leniently on that, lol. 

Went to this monthly little resiliency meeting thing on Wednesday and I had a good time! My understanding is that people in this little club can get the chance to present a speech of sorts on a topic of choice that relates in some way to fostering a better student environment. I enjoy public speaking so I’ll probably keep going to these meetings and eventually prepare a presentation of my own. 

In general it was a pretty smooth week. Definitely better than the academic trainwreck that was last week. 

Bad stuff from this week: 

Brooo so my class used to talk a lot about how we had a really great teaching team. Which we did. But I think the reason it was such a good teaching team was because there were three teachers in particular carrying the whole thing. And now two of those teachers are gone! One got a new job and the other was involuntarily moved to teach another class. She said she really protested the decision but there was nothing she could do. So now there’s really only one teacher in our whole team who I look forward to having. The others are alright, but to be honest I just don’t like the classroom environment any of them create. But whatever, just have to deal. 

Started feeling a little lonely this week. The resiliency club meeting thing helped, but that’s only once a month so it’s not like I can go to it again soon. But something good is that I recognized very early on that I was feeling a little lonely, and I made sure to not let myself spiral like I normally would have done in college. I just acknowledged the feeling and made sure it didn’t drive any big decisions. Eighteen year old me could never. 

Plans for the weekend: 

Memorize all the new vocabulary I can

Maybe take a few hours one day to a quick review of past content

Do as much of next week’s homework as I can.

I also really want to do something creative on the side again! I just broke out the ol’ drawing tablet and started drawing a comic I’ve been drafting in my mind/on paper. I’ve also been thinking about animatics to make, and stuff to write, and songs on the piano to learn, etc etc etc. There’s so much I want to create but I don’t have any time!

That’s it for Week 16, then. I think this puts me at one third of the way through. Although I now know that my graduation date is February 1, which makes this whole thing 52 weeks total, but I guess those 52 weeks are counting the couple weeks after we DLPT and wrap things up. I don’t know. If the course up until the DLPT is 48 weeks, then I’m officially one third of the way through. 

Happy Friday, enjoy the three-day! 

[redheadspark]

Hello love!!

I want a prompt with Joseph Quinn

* "I'm here for you"

* Wiping their tears when they cry

i think i'm looking for something angst lol

A/N: Awww some hurt/comfort is coming your way for this one! Thanks for the request

Breathe

Summary: Sometimes it become too much for Joseph. You help him find some relief.

Warnings: Some hurt/comfort with some fluff in the end

You felt movement first around your waist, making you put your book down and seeing your boyfriend open his eyes slowly. HIs head was nestled on a pillow, right near your hip since you were sitting up against the headboard. HIs forehead was against your rib, both arms wrapped around your hips loosely and almost possessively as you grinned at him and rang some of your fingers in his curls.

"How are you feeling, Joe?" You asked him calmly, seeing him blink a few times with the soft sounds of the world outside your window seeping in. He yawned, looking up at you with his bright brown eyes and softly smiling.

"A bit better," He replied, making you continue to rake your fingers in his hair as he hummed, touching his head against your hip again. You checked your watch, seeing the time and grimacing a bit.

"You were out for about 2 hours, hun," You explained, Joe pausing as he was staring pass out to the open window that the bringing the breeze.

"I didn't realize how tired I was," He murmured, you leaning down to kiss his curls as his hands around your hip tightened a bit. You felt a bit bad how worn out Joe was, and it showed in how he was snuggling into you with no sign of letting you go.

The last 48 hours for him was hell.

He loved being an actor, it was one of the best things that happened to him in his life. But when he got instant popularity from Stranger Things, it was wearing him thin. Interview after interview, a press tour with a gruesome schedule that barely gave him time to rest, and a rocky comic con that made him break down in tears, it was all becoming too much for Joe. Even with you by his side as his main supporter, holding his hand when he need it and giving him words of encouragement, you knew it wasn't going to be enough for him. You wished you could take away that anxiety and pain he felt, to let him wipe the slate clean and be his happy self that you fell in love with. Sure he was happy in front of the cameras and with fans, he was always happy. But you saw the cracks every once in awhile.

And they got bigger and bigger. Until he finally broke down at your doorstep late one evening.

He needed to escape from being in front of the camera for a few days, texting you frantically if he could hide out at your flat for at least the weekend. When you opened the door to see him, it was written all over his face: devastation and exhaustion. Joe was supposed to be having plenty of interviews on a few news stations and a couple of internet slots, nothing too major or crazy. However, the way he looked and stood made it seem like he ran a marathon without a moment or two to breathe.

You simply brought him into the flat and locked the door, drew the curtains closed and was guiding him to bed as he looked like a breeze could blow him over. He didn't have to say anything to you, not just yet. You helped him change into a set of pajamas that were his that you kept at your place, getting him some cold water and turning down the bed for him. There are tears, evident and massive tears down his cheeks and onto his chin as he as lowering himself in bed. You moved swiftly to wipe them away, saying nothing but letting your gentle fingers do all the work. He kissed your fingers when you were done, not saying yet, but was thankful. And as he passed out on the bed, you saw his phone blowing up with texts and calls. Maybe from his co-stars or his agent.

You turned it off for him, placing his phone far away from him. He needed to breathe.

"Wanna talk about it?" You asked him as he was still holding you close and watching the window, the grim look on his face was still evident as you moved to lay down and be next to him, nose to nose and your hand rubbing his arm that was now wrapped over your chest.

"It felt like too much," He explained, you watching him silently as he kept going with his voice sounding like a low tremor, "I just needed a moment to...I don't know,"

"Breathe?" You asked him, seeing him look finally at you. His orbs, so bright and filled with life from the moment you two met, seemed dimmed a bit within the last month. And no matter how many times he tried to put on a front and be happy for the sake of doing his job, it was showing the cracks that were underneath and that were threatening to grow with every passing day.

"You're allowed to breathe, sweetheart," You reminded him, lacing your hands together up top of your chest, "It's okay to calm down every once in awhile and take a break."

Joe didn't say anything, but you knew he was digesting what you told him. He needed a reminder every once in awhile, and you were willing to tell him every time. So you leaned over a bit to kiss shim softly against his lips, feeling him lean into you to kiss you back.

"I'm here for you," you whispered against his lips as he was about to pull away, "I'll always be here for you. How about we watch something corny and cheesy, and eat some cheese pizza." Joe grinned, for the first time since he came to you he grinned. You loved that smile from him, seeing his face light up little by little with his dimples visible and his eyes brightening.

"Sounds great," Joe hummed in a reply, then moving his head look for something, "Where's my phone?"

"I turned it off for you when you were sleeping," You replied, seeing Joe look at you with a hint of shock as you grabbed the tv remote on the nightstand, "If they have a problem not being able to reach you, then screw them.”

Joe smile widened slightly as you turned on the TV to find the right channel that you liked. Finding the perfect channel wishing a minute, you both were snuggling together and letting the rest of the world melt away. This was probably what Joe needed, no one to answer questions and no image to keep.

He could be bare with you and vulnerable too.

The End.

[havendance]

No Man’s Land Event Timeline

I am of the opinion that more people should write fic set in No Man's Land, but considering it's like, 80 issues long (not counting the lead up) I've made this timeline to make it easier for people who don't have time to spend like a month reading comics. (And also as a reference for myself. So, ever wondered what went down in No Man's Land? This is for you.

(For a timeline of comics that made up the event you can check the other timeline I made here)

(Also available to read on AO3 for your convenience)

Part 1: The Quake

Before we actually get to No Man’s Land Proper, we need to get some facts down about why it happened in the first place. Which means we’re going to be touching on Batman: Cataclysm. (The Batman: Contagion event (where Gotham got hit by a plague known as the Clench) also happened prior to this and contributed to No Man's Land being a thing, but this timeline is already long enough as it is so we won't be going into detail about that.)

In late June/early July, at 7:03pm, a quake 7.6 on the Richter scale hit’s Gotham

While we don’t know the exact date, Batman chronicles #14 reveals that it’s before July fourth.

When the quake hits:

Bruce, Alfred, and Harold are all in the Batcave

Dick is in Bludhaven

Tim is on a plane flying back to Gotham

He’s just resolved to open up to his dad. That doesn’t actually happen.

Helena Bertinelli (a.k.a the Huntress) is in a subway car

Stephanie is at the mall

Catwoman is breaking into a building

Azrael is handing Bane off to the GCPD (Bane gets away)

After the quake dies down:

A number of prisoners escape Blackgate (including Cluemaster)

Lots of people die

Batman, Robin, and Nightwing all run rescue efforts. Huntress and Catwoman are also shown helping out

Alfred and Harold work to repair the manner and clear the batcave 

Batman runs around in a bat-monster truck (Not particularly plot relevant, but it looks cool)

Bruce works tirelessly both as Batman and Bruce Wayne to try and aid rescue efforts, pour in relief funds, and convince business owners to remain in Gotham

Part 2: The Abandonment of Gotham

Bruce goes to DC to speak to congress in hopes of securing federal aid for Gotham

However, giving aid to Gotham is *wildly* unpopular and he fails

An executive order declares Gotham No Man’s Land

The city is given 48 hours to evacuate before they blow up the bridges. People with a criminal record are not allowed out.

Later comics reference Black Monday which means that presumably the government gave Gotham a weekend to evacuate.

In Batman: No Man’s Land Secret File #1, it’s revealed that the bridges were blown at Midnight on New’s Year’s Day

(Personally, I don’t think this date makes sense, largely based off of vibes, but also partially based off of dates given later. It’s the perennial comics retcon at work. Regardless, since it’s a solid date, I’ll be calculating later dates based off of it. I think I’m also going to have to make a timeline that I don’t hate where I just ignore this though)

During this Jim Gordon tries to get a job outside of Gotham before discovering that he’s a laughing stock outside the city and deciding to stay in No Man’s Land instead

Barbara Gordon also decides to remain in Gotham

Part 3: No Man’s Land

We open 93 days after they blew the bridges

While vibe-wise, it feels like late fall/early winter to me, based off of the New Year’s day Black Monday date, it’s April 3rd. (Yeah, I don’t think the date makes any sense, but I like numbers so I’ll keep doing the math.)

The next time check in we’re given is 127 days in. It’s noted that it’s the tail end of the Winter. (Date wise this would be May 7th)

(Look, maybe weather’s just different in New Jersey, but May does not feel like the tail end of winter to me.)

Status Quo:

Batman is who knows where. None of his allies have seen or heard from him.

We later learn that he went on a Bruce Wayne guilt bender and tried to bury his guilt over failing Gotham in partying.

Oracle is based out of the clocktower. She gains intel through a network of informants and food by using her knowledge of the city’s fallout shelters.

Jim Gordon is running what remnants of the GCPD remained in No Man’s Land along with his wife, Sarah Essen. He’s currently angry with Batman for disappearing and will remain so for some time.

Helena Bertinelli is both operating as Huntress and has recently taken up a Bat-themed mantle. She calls herself the Bat, but she is later referred to as Batgirl.

Though not mentioned in the opening salvo, we later learn that Leslie Thomkins remained in No Man’s Land and is operating a medical aid camp clinic place thing.

We also later learn that Alfred Pennyworth spent his time up to this point wandering around Gotham, helping people out, delivering at least one baby, and raising moral through storytelling and performances.

Outside of Gotham:

Nightwing is facing the usual combination of corruption and crime in Blüdhaven.

Robin has moved to Keystone City with his dad.

Stephanie Brown is approximately 7-8 months pregnant and living in the Gotham area outside of the No Man’s Land zone.

Azrael is doing stuff I guess? I think he’s chasing down some villain dude? Look, does anyone really care about Azrael?

(Note from future Havendance: Okay, so No Man’s Land actually made me care some about Azrael)

Catwoman. I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you what Catwoman’s up to either. She’s not in Gotham, I can tell you that much.

100 days into No Man’s Land (April 10th), Batman shows back up. (Alfred Pennyworth is with him). The GCPD take back Old Town (I think? It’s the part of Gotham with the clock tower). Barbara and her father are reunited.

Before the next timeline checkpoint various things happen:

Azrael enters No Man’s Land

Batman begins working with Batgirl

Batman makes a deal with the Penguin to establish himself back in Gotham and gain information

Batman makes a deal with a former enemy (Lockup) to get Blackgate prison up and running.

Black Mask is locked inside, taking him off the map.

Barbara Gordon discovers that there is someone else operating as Batgirl

Superman shows up for a day to try and lend a hand.

127 days into No Man’s Land (May 27th). The tail end of winter. A lot of politics/land war stuff goes down.

Pre shuffle map:

(Unfortunately, I don’t believe their’s a post-shuffle map)

The Penguin makes a deal with Two Face to get at Batman. The GCPD makes a deal with Two Face to get at the Penguin’s territory. The end result is that Two Face takes Batman’s territory and the GCPD take half of Penguin’s territory.

Meanwhile, Outside of No Man’s Land:

Stephanie Brown gives birth

The Drakes move back to the Gotham area

Dick Grayson enters the police academy, hoping to root out the corruption on the force from the inside

As a result of all the politics/land war shuffle up:

Two Face hires David Cain to try and kill Jim Gordon. He’s stopped by Batman with the help of Cassandra Cain (currently without a name).

Batman finally admits that he can’t take care of the city on his own and calls in help.

Batman fires Helena Bertinelli from Batgirl for not adhering to his impossibly high standards. He gives the mantle to Cassandra Cain.

Also around this time, Jim Gordon punches Batman in the face. Which isn’t particularly plot relevant, but I thought you should know.

Once everyone’s assembled (Around day 189 (July 7th))

Azrael and Batgirl are sent to take down Nicholas Scratch — a charismatic radio personality who pushed for No Man’s Land to be a thing in the first place, now in the city and causing trouble.

Nightwing is sent to take control of Blackgate back from Lockup. He succeeds but gets beat to hell and has to be nursed back to health by Barbara Gordon.

Batman and Robin investigate Poison Ivy’s hold on Robinson Park. They find that she and the orphans she’d taken under her protection have been imprisoned by Clayface and end up working with her to take him down. The end of this storyline is noted to be the first day of summer.

( Side note here, officially, the first day of summer is on June 21st, which would put the start of No Man’s Land back before the New Year’s date. And honestly, July feels way too late for the first day of summer, but I don’t know why I’m trying to get a consistent timeline out of comics in the first place. *sigh* I’ll just stick a timeline that I think works better at the end of all of this.)

Around this time:

Jim Gordon attempts to break off his deal with Two Face. Two Face does not like that, and as a result he takes Rene Montoya and her family hostage.

Helena Bertinelli, now back to the Huntress mantel, teams up with Petit who broke off from the GCPD for being a little too into shooting people.

Catwoman is recruited by Batman to steal some discs with data on them that he says is vital to restoring Gotham. She succeeds but then proceeds to sell the data to the highest bidder. At this point in time, it’s unclear if Batman ever gets the data.

Side note, but apparently before all this, she managed to get elected the mayor of New York and then had to fake her death by having Catwoman push Selina Kyle off a building. It all sounds wild. Maybe I should be reading the Catwoman comics…

Bane enters Gotham, recruited by a mysterious outside influence (Later revealed to be an agent of Lex Luthor). He’s apparently no longer on venom? Idk, I don’t really care about Bane. This timeline is somewhat biased in case you couldn’t tell.

Robin gets in the middle of a three-way battle in the subway between the Ratcatcher, Mr Freeze, and two guys whose names I don’t remember. He ends up sick due to a nasty combination of rat bites and sewage (excellent sickfic potential, that’s all I’m saying)

Side note: in this story, we learn that apparently a bunch of Tim's old classmates are larping as their DnD characters in the sewers of No Man’s Land which is one of those details I feel compelled to share with you.

Also at this time, Stephanie’s mom learns about her being Spoiler and tells her to stop.

Batman teams up with Lynx to take down a gang in Chinatown that’s enslaving people to generate electric power.

Harley Quinn shows up for the first time, dating the Joker.

Bane blows up Gotham’s Hall of Records.

Meanwhile, the Street Demonz hit up Two Face’s territory, capturing him and nearly executing him via hanging before Batman and Robin save him for… reasons. I’m honestly not sure why. Because Two Face is too popular of a villain to kill I guess.

A later retcon says that Batman actually blew up the hall of records? For reasons that are also unclear? Whatever.

Superman visits Gotham again, this time helping people out in civilian form.

Killer Croc makes a move on the Penguin’s territory. He’s stopped by Robin (still recovering from his illness) and a temporary alliance between the Penguin and the GCPD.

During this story it’s also revealed that it’s been about two weeks since Tim and Dick entered Gotham.

However, this should be taken with a grain of salt since also in this story, Rene Montoya is shown to be back with the GCPD which, as I’ll get to in the next bullet point, implies that months must have passed since he entered.

Tim also calls his dad and lets him know that he’s in No Man’s Land. This leads to his dad calling his senator and the fact that Tim’s in No Man’s Land becomes a national news story.

Note: We’ll be coming back to this.

Two Face kidnaps Jim Gordon and holds a trial for him regarding the deal they previously made. Despite the fact that Two Face is literally the only person running the trial, Gordon is found Not Guilty. As a result of this trial Rene Montoya and her family are freed and Two Face is arrested, taking him off the map.

Look, please just read Batman #572 and Detective Comics #739. A summary does not do this justice.

Timeline wise, the trial reveals that Rene has been held by Two Face for five months. This would be at minimum, three full months and two parts of a month, meaning between 120 and 150 days have passed. This would put us between day 300 and day 330 of No Man’s Land. I’m going to assume day 300 since our next check in is day 312. Going off the New Year’s day zero date, this would put us in Late October.

Following this, Jim Gordon and Batman finally make up.

Catwoman re-enters Gotham and hands off the data to Batman (An event so important that it’s shown in near-identical detail in *three* separate comic issues. I’m not annoyed.)

This retroactively pushes Batman contacting her and her whole heist deal to happen circa day 300 of No Man’s Land.

At an unclear point in the chronology, while Barbara’s nursing Dick back to health, Petit’s faction attempts to kidnap Barbara. Huntress is initially aiding him, before turning against him (temporarily).

Our Next solid date Day 312 of No Man’s Land (November 8th):

Lex Luthor enters Gotham and begins to rebuild as part of a larger plot to gain control over Gotham.

The Joker begins making plans

Huntress is finding herself chafing more in her partnership with Petit

Roughly day 323 of No Man’s Land, an executive order is signed that will No Man’s Land on January 1st (the one year anniversary)

During the last month of No Man’s Land:

Lex Luthor and the government lead various rebuilding efforts

Azrael and Batgirl assist Batman in going up against the Joker a couple of times

Catwoman spends time messing with Lex Luthor

Batman convinces Bane to leave Gotham. We learn that he was apparently promised rule of Santa Prisca by Luthor in exchange for his services.

Christmas Eve (And at some point in the night, Christmas Day) — shit hits the fan.

The Joker makes his move, attacking Petit’s territory. Petit and many of his men are killed by the Joker. Huntress makes a final stand, nearly dying at the Joker's hands before Batman and Nightwing show up and chase the Joker away.

The Joker also kidnaps, like, all the babies in No Man’s Land, and also sets up a bunch of bombs, sending Batman and his allies racing on a search across Gotham

Sarah Essen (Gordon’s Wife) is shot and killed by the Joker

December 31st (and at midnight January 1st)

Sarah’s funeral happens.

Batman thwarts Lex’s plan to own all of Gotham with the help of Lucius Fox

No Man’s Land ends.

(Whew, that was like 2000 words of timeline.)

Appendix 1: Just how long did Tim spend in Gotham?

(Yes this timeline has appendices. I’ve put far too much thought into everything)

But wait! Remember how I said we’d come back to Tim calling his dad? That time is now. At some point in this timeline, pressured by public opinion, the president issues an executive order to extract Tim from No Man’s Land. The thing about this plot point is that I have *no* idea when it happens. It could happen anywhere between three weeks after Tim enters No Man’s land (so about day 210) to December.

If we go solely off the Robin comics, roughly two weeks after Tim enters No Man’s Land, he becomes a major new story and an unspecified amount of time later (though one that feels short) he is extracted. (The grass is green and there are leaves on the trees in the art implying summer or early fall at the latest).

However, in the main bat comics, Tim is shown popping up here and there in supporting roles until literally the end of No Man’s Land. We do know, at minimum, that Tim is out of No Man’s Land in time to spend Christmas Eve with his dad (before somehow sneaking out and into No Man’s Land in time to help out with the whole chasing down the Joker drama). There’s a panel where they sort of vaguely make a reference to the fact that Tim has been sneaking into No Man’s Land to help out Batman, but no indication as to how long that’s been going on.

So, in conclusion. Tim is extracted from No Man’s Land whenever is most convenient for whatever story you want to tell. I think in my personal timeline, I’d put it at roughly day 300 after the Batman and Gordon reconciliation to have it line up with Luthor putting PR pressure on the government, but honestly canon is so contradictory on this point that it could go any way.

Appendix B: My Personal Ideal No Man’s Land Timeline

So, as mentioned above. I will accept the New Year’s Black Monday date for some canon purposes. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. My ideal timeline (a.k.a the one I’m going to use when I end up writing fic) would end up extending No Man’s Land so that it begins earlier and lasts longer:

Late October/Early November: Day zero of No Man’s Land

Batman enters on Day 100 so roughly February

Day 127 of No Man’s Land (The land war, tail end of winter) lands in late March

Day 189 (Bats assemble, First day of summer) is placed in late May (a little early, but we can go more metaphorical here)

This is about where those extra months I added go, during all the vague Bat stuff that goes on before Luthor enters Gotham

Luthor still enters Gotham in November

All the Christmas stuff goes down the same. 

No Man’s Land still ends on New Year’s Day for the symbolism.

[tolkienrsb]

CALLING ALL TOLKIEN FAN ARTISTS!

There are just 10 days left to sign up for 2022’s Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang - the form will be open until 23.59 CET on 8 May.  We’ve got some great submissions already but it would be wonderful if more of you could join us - the more artwork, the better!

I’d like to take part but I’ll never get anything finished in 10 days...

It doesn’t have to be finished - art drafts are due at 23.59 CET on 15 May, and the draft just needs to give a good idea of what the final piece will look like.  Line art which will have colour added later is fine, or you could submit a concept drawing of something that you will work on through the summer - a costume or an embroidery piece, for example.  If in doubt, contact the mods; we will be as accommodating as we can.

Unless you decide that you want to be completely hands off in your partnership with your author, you have until 7th August to finish your art.

I’m not sure my art is eligible.

It probably is!  We only turn down art for the following reasons:

1) It is so incomplete that you can’t get any idea what the finished piece will be like (e.g. it’s at the lines and blobs stage - a nice sketch, for example, would be fine, or a manip that’s still a little rough at the edges).

2) It doesn’t demonstrate sufficient original input (e.g. it’s a screenshot from a film or game with no transformative elements applied).

3) The piece(s) submitted have previously been published elsewhere (e.g. they’re already on DeviantArt).

We accept all kinds of artworks.  In the past we’ve had sculpture, crafts, drawings, paintings, comic strips, moodboards, edits, digital manipulations, calligraphy, collage, cosplay and print block cutting.  It would be great to broaden that out even further.  (Pyrography? Video?  Bookbinding? Board game design?!?) 

I’ve never done anything like this before! / I’m usually a writer and I’ve never published my art!  I’m nervous!

You’re not on your own - every year we have a lot of first timers as well as plenty of experienced participants.  The mods will happily answer any questions you have; our FAQ section gives a fairly comprehensive run-down of the event, but if something isn’t clear, please just ask!

What if nobody wants to claim my art?

We cannot absolutely promise that every artwork will find a loving home with one of our authors, but rest assured that demand on claims night is always extremely high - and it isn’t always the obvious characters and pairings that get snapped up first…

(We also have an excellent team of pinch hitters and treat makers, and will do our very best to find someone to write for your creative efforts.)

I’ve only seen the films / I’ve only read The Lord of the Rings / I’m new to the fandom, but everybody is talking about obscure academic papers and people whose names start with Fin.  Help!!!

We have artists and writers of all experience levels taking part in this event, from complete beginners through to professionals.  Length of time in fandom and knowledge of different canons also varies, and we will be glad to have you whether you are a full-time Tolkien scholar or you fell in love with the films last weekend.

There is no gate-keeping in this event and no expectation that you are familiar with every Tolkien text or every piece of media.  All we ask is that you are clear in your submission which canon(s) your art is based on.  Art and fic based solely on the films or on a video game canon is very welcome in the event - in fact, we always like to see a mixture!

Do I have to help the author with the story?  I don’t think I can do that!

That’s OK!  We have a range of collaboration levels that you select from when you submit your art, including low-commitment options (though we do ask that you are responsive to your author and reply to any questions within 48 hours, unless you have told them in advance that you’re going to be unavailable for a period of time). See the FAQs for more detail. 

How many pieces can I submit?

Up to two pieces, for claiming by two separate authors.  

OK, I’m in.  What next?

The artist signup form is over here - once we have your signup, we will send you a confirmation email welcoming you to the event (this can take up to 48 hours depending on mod availability).  We can’t wait to see your beautiful creations!

[kernyen-xo]

It’s been a while, but guess what? I was lounging in my new recliner and holding my arms up over my head and did a double take at them. Dude! I have old lady arms =:p

So, speaking of my recliner, something I’ve always wanted, btw, I’m thinking I should have bought one that wasn’t leather because every time I sit in it, I slowly slide down until my butt is hanging off the edge. It’s a little comical. Okay, it’s more than a little comical. But I still love my chair. It’s a recliner, people. I’m hoping that over time the leather becomes less slippery, otherwise I’m going to have to sew non-skid thingies on the seat of my pants.

My condo is starting to feel like home. It took a while to unpack and organize things, but I’m pretty much finished with just a few things left to do. I moved in on July 30th. See, what I mean? It took forever. It’s now fall. Where did the time go? Anyhow, the drive to work is pretty good since I’m driving against the traffic. I feel very fortunate since commuting to work can be brutal for most of the residents in the area. On an average it takes me 15-20 minutes to drive to the office and the same driving home.

It still feels unreal that I’m a homeowner.

I’m still getting used to living in this area. It’s a different culture. I live near Sac State / East Sacramento. The vibe is different. Not bad, just different.

I bought a Ring and installed it. There’s a ton of catalytic converters getting stolen. There’s a lot of attempts on breaking in, thieves stealing packages, etc. While it’s not happening in my neighborhood, it’s happening around it. I live in a gated community, which helps, but I know it doesn’t keep any of us completely safe or free from theft.

In other news:

The job is good. We’re moving into a bigger space, like way bigger.

After 10 years of renting a house, the kid decided to move out when I bought the condo. She and her fur kids moved in with her partner.

I had my 2nd booster shot and it knocked me off my feet. I was down for 48 hours. It was awful, so awful that I’m having second thoughts about getting the 3rd one :-/

I’ve read 103 books out of my goal of 150 for this year. I’m getting there.

I tried watching the new Quantum Leap series, but I dunno yet. I’m waiting for the hook and reel and I’m thinking it’s not going to happen.

I watched the documentary about Fauci. I had no idea how instrumental he was in creating the AIDS cocktail. I also watched the documentary about Nolan Ryan. He was a great pitcher with all these amazing records. I know. Karen, where have you been? Apparently under a rock. But it’s nice to learn things, even if it is long after the events/facts have happened.

I’m glad the weekend is right around the corner. I don’t know what I’m gonna do, but whatever it is, it’s going to feel wonderful.