#'oh this bus is coming in 12 minutes' and then bump it up to 18 before making me wait 30 minutes instead
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kekwuit ¡ 3 months ago
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Late Night Bus Rider
No Filter / Other Filters
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theres-an-impulstor-among-us ¡ 3 years ago
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Friday Night Stabby best quotes part 6 (18/12/20)
Etho: Endless, defence? Endless: Joker was just standing there, doing Simon Says. I had to kill him. Etho: That’s a good defence. I like that. Endless: I had to kill Joker. And I didn’t know Skizz was there. Etho: I dunno if I can vote him now; that was a really good defence.
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*emergency meeting is called just after Impulse is killed* Etho: Nooooo! Skizz: What’s going on? Etho: I needed to ask Impulse a question! Skizz: You know what? I’ll channel him! Here, I’ll be Impulse. Ask the question. Etho: …“Impulse”, did you see Skizzle vent in weapons? Skizz, in a “dumb” voice: Duhhh, I’m a big dumb-dumb! Brody: Wooooooow…
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Brody: Evil voted for Etho and I don’t know why. Evil: For fun.
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*the round finishes* Impulse, imitating Skizz’s dumb voice: “HI, MY NAME IS SKIZZLEMAN, I LIKE TO DO TASKS INSTEAD OF TURNING THE LIGHTS ON.” Skizz: What are you talking about, dude? I- Impulse: Dude, I was with you to protect you that whole time cuz I was done, and then the first chance you get, you throw me under the bus like that? Skizz: What do you mean throw you under the bus? What does that mean? Impulse, mimicking Skizz mimicking him: “Hi, my name’s Impulse, I don’t knoooow” *pause* Brody: You guys need to hug it out. Tango: I’m not sure what’s happening right now but I’m enjoying it.
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*Joker reports a body* Joker: Okay. *takes a deep breath* Okay… Etho: Joker’s got something spicy here, I can feel it.
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*Etho reports a body* Skizz: I’ll let you go first, go ahead. *pause* Skizz: Go ahead, buddy, do it. That was slick. I’ll let you talk first, go ahead. *pause* Skizz: You gotta push-to-talk, though. *pause* Etho: I don’t know if I wanna talk. What’s going on here...?
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Mrs Tango: I’ve just done the ZOOP ZOOP ZOOP thing in navigation. Tango: ...the what? Mrs Tango: The ZOOP ZOOP ZOOP thing. You know, where you’re ZOOP ZOOP ZOOPing the rocket through the ZOOP ZOOP ZOOPs. Tango: Judges? Endless: That’s an adorable sound!
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Impulse: Evil was just standing around on Simon Says while the reactor was going off. Evil: It was my fourth time trying to complete it. Tango: If it was your FOURTH time, you should’ve made some progress, man. Evil: I hit the wrong button. Impulse: *votes* OOPS I hit the wrong button! I voted for Evil! (/s)
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Impulse: *is dead* Etho: Well, we know it’s not Impulse for sure. Brody: That’s… kinda what I’m saying. Etho: I’m a pretty good detective :D
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Joker: That was a good round, Etho. We both got three kills. Etho: Yeah. I was really slow at the start, though, sorry about that. Joker: No, you’re fine; I made up for it. Bdubs, laughing: So Canadian. “I’m sorry.” Etho, also laughing: “I’m so sorry. I should’ve killed more.”
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Tango: Brody body in office. Right side. Impulse: Okay! Joker just came from there. Evil, who was with you that whole time? Was it Etho? Evil: Yeah, Etho. Impulse: And you both saw Joker in- Etho: Whoa whoa, don’t insta-vote here. Bdubs: I insta-voted, because Impulse was with me so much. I trust his- I trust him. So much. He’s so sweet. We were together holding hands - SO cute - in specimen. The two of us.
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Impulse: Do we believe in Bdubs? Impulse, singing: I believe in Bduuuubs, and you know it’s truuuue. Bdubs can’t be wrong, noooo. *pause* Impulse: Apparently I sing now.
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Impulse: Can we trust Skizz, is the question right now. Skizz: *kills Impulse* Impulse: ...nope.
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Skizz: I found Joker’s body in O2 and I didn’t see anyone else around. Endless: I still feel pretty confident it’s Joker. Tango: Joker sus.
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Brody: So I just went into laboratory and the last person I saw was Tango. Tango: I had three tasks in there. Impulse: Was- Brody: Was one of them to kill EvilNotion? Impulse: I wanted to say that!
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Brody: Who did you say you found, Bdubs? Bdubs: Mrs Tango. Brody: Oh, and Etho’s dead too. Endless: Yeah but who cares about that.
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Brody: So Skizz hasn’t said anything the whole meeting. Skizz: Okay, here’s exactly what’s happening. I have nothing of value to add. I saw nothing. And also every time Impulse talks, I’m using his plushie to, like, mimic him talking. Brody: Uhhhh… Bdubs: I’m voting you for that. *votes are revealed, the majority has gone with Skizz* Skizz: WHOA what is happening?! Bdubs: You rubbing the plushie, c’mon. Skizz: Not RUBBING! Using it for- That got weird! Impulse: It got weird as soon as you said it.
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*after Impulse changes his hat to reindeer antlers* Brody: You look festive, Impulse. I appreciate that. Impulse: Yeah, I’m festive now. I think that that’s why I haven’t been imposter, so… Brody: It’s close to Christmas, you gotta be festive. Mrs Tango’s festive too. Look at us down here. Joker: I’m festive! :D Brody: You can festively get outta here with that hat, that’s not Christmas. Get outta here. Bdubs: I have mistletoe above my head, in case anybody’s interested. Endless: I’m pretty sure you’re a potato.
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Tango: I will tell you 100% unequivocally that Endless just butchered my wife right in front of me. Skizz: I believe you Tango, but I would like you to show a little bit more remorse from watching someone murder your wife. I don’t like the giggle.
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Brody: Any time I can get Endless out of this game, I’ll do it. Endless: That’s fair…
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*Tango reports Impulse’s body on MIRA map* Tango: Etho? Did Etho report this one? Okay, guys, here’s what happened- Etho: Get me outta this nightmare. Tango: I opened the door to the bottom airlock of whatever that left-side nonsense is. Etho’s standing on the body, waiting to come out. Etho: Can’t move a muscle on this map… Brody: Etho, who are you voting for, just out of curiosity? You voting for Tango? Etho: ...no. Bdubs: Yes he did, yes he did! Etho: It wasn’t Tango, I promise. Brody and Bdubs simultaneously: Who was it, then? *pause* Etho: It wasn’t Impulse.
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Tango: Joker, for what it’s worth, you are the worst and I’m probably gonna vote you off. Joker: *bursts out laughing* Tango: You just spent twenty minutes there, bumping your bits against the doors, doing nothing. Joker: I love the sound of those doors!
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Etho: Okay, so I know it wasn’t Brody, because it looked like he was scanning. Joker: ...well he’s dead, so…
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Impulse: Tango’s dead in laboratory. I know it’s not Bdubs, cuz I saw him in reactor. I feel like I saw the colour of Etho’s skin but I’m only 90% sure. Brody: ONLY 90?! That’s a pretty high percentage! Etho: ...it’s just not my night, is it?
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Etho: I was in cafeteria, doing the vending machine. Brody: You mean the VENTING machine? *at the end of the round* Tango: By the way, Brody. Bonus points for “venting machine”, that was awesome, dude. Brody: Oh, thank you! I felt dirty saying it cuz you know how I feel about them, but it was there.
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thesmokingguns ¡ 3 years ago
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Wendy and The Lost Boys Chapter 12 - FINAL
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Warning: Drug use and Sex so please 18+
Note: Thank you to everyone who read this. It means a lot. I need some ideas for what to write next so if you have a request I would love to hear it! Thanks everyone !
It felt stupid to be this happy. Yet everyday he felt like he had won the lottery. Sasha was always doing things to make his day. It didn’t have to be anything big but just the small things she added to his life were improving Nikki’s outlook. They had spent the last three months together pretty much nonstop, getting into a routine together. Nikki liked waking up and having Sasha in bed with him or finding her in the kitchen reading books on the counter drinking coffee. He loved when he’d come home after a long day she’d be greeted with her jumping into his arms to kiss him. He loved their baths together where they’d lay together listening to a record and smoking cigarettes until Nikki would need to flip it to the B side.
Sasha took care of him. She always made sure that he had clean clothes to wear and that there was food in the fridge. There were always little love notes around if she left before him to give him a rundown of what his day looked like. She made him laugh with her quirky ways and had him remembering how easy things could be. Nikki had learned what it was like to be loved by being with her. Gone were the fears of him having to be this rockstar with some sort of persona he had to fit; she was right there going out with him most nights. The nights that she didn’t go out he knew what he had at home and nothing was really worth losing that.
But now things were about to change in the little house they had set up because the guys had just gotten a break to open up on tour for Kiss.
Nikki frowned looking  at his watch. She was running fifteen minutes late on the worst possible day to be late. They were supposed to go see Bad Brains at the Whisky tonight before the tour and he was looking forward to the show. All of a sudden he saw her sprint towards the car, waving frantically as she ran in her Jean shorts and Keds, a Crße shirt Nikki had cut up for her swinging in the breeze. Her hair and makeup were already done and that cherry red smile was driving Nikki crazy as it shone across the parking lot. She was jumping into his arms and playing the merry fool he was spinning her, pressing his lips to hers in a heated kiss.  Sasha smiled being set on her feet.
“I got ready here so I won’t need to go home. So don’t look so stressed out about the time.” She knew him too well. Her finger wiped at his bottom lip and she was slipping inside his Porsche, pushing her school bag into the backseat. He hadn't expected her to be ready and a sense of relief washed over him knowing they had saved an hour he had planned for.
“What are we going to do with all the time we have?” He asked, driving them towards the Strip. She leaned across kissing the side of his mouth having a few ideas of what they could be doing together. He was tense under her touch and she could see the wheels spinning in his mind, “Are you going to be okay?” He felt her squeeze his bicep and her head on his shoulder. He wouldn’t be gone for that long from her. Especially since she would be going to Irving tomorrow with him and taking the bus to LA where she would be dropped off in LA for four days with Nikki going to Phoenix and then Las Vegas. She was fine with him coming home after all the dates but he had asked her to come see them in Vegas because they had some new songs he wanted her to hear them play for the first time.
“Are you going to be okay without me?” She shot back, he tensed as they stopped at a red light. He could turn and give her attention now. Sasha couldn’t believe  how serious his face was about everything and she really did worry if he was going to be okay, “It’s only a few days, Sixx. What the hell are you going to do when you’re touring Europe?” She teased. Nikki was holding her face in his hands.
“I’m going to play shows at night and during the day when I’m hungover I’m going to take you around to see everything.” He loved the way she smiled at that. He believed that’s really what they would do together. A loud beep behind them broke up the moment they were sharing together. Nikki gave a glare to the person behind them before driving forward, his  hand on her thigh, “As long as you want to be with me I’m going to make sure that you’re along for the ride. I want to make sure you get to be here because you’re the one for me, angel.” It was easy to get lost in his words. Even though they hadn't said it yet it was obvious they both were in love with each other.
He watched her at the bar, her easy laughter with their friends and the way she was sipping on her beer occasionally throwing looks his way. She was so easy to get along with and he could see how a group of people could always be drawn to her. He watched her pull out a cigarette, her favorite party trick, and the amount of lighters reaching out before she even had it to her mouth made him shake his head. There was this agreement around them about jealousy and people. They both knew there were always going to be people around both of them and they had made sure to talk about what expectations were around that. If they came together they would leave together and they both knew that. Nikki sipped the bourbon looking away from her for a second to talk to someone. When he went to go check on her at the bar again she was gone.
Laughter and chatter filled the women's room. Girls pushed shoulders gently applying lipstick and helping girls fix their hair. The comradery of a women's bathroom was one of the best parts of shows. Sasha finished brightening up her lipstick, fluffing out her hair, turning to pull her shorts up higher to give even more of her ass to hang out the bottom. Her eyes caught sight of girls doing lines and her body suddenly craved the white powder. Tommy hadn’t ratted her out to Nikki about the cocaine she had been using before moving in and to her credit she had quit well she had been with him. Even though he would party she knew the way that he worried about her and it would be an issue.
“Do you want a bump?” the girl was holding out a red glass vile, smiling at her. Sasha chewed her lip, feeling her skin suddenly burning wanting it. She held out the side of her hand letting the laughing girl tap out the white powder in a small line. Before she realized what she was doing she had her nose sniffing across her finger, her whole body coming alive. She shook her head, smiling as she licked her finger to get any trace of the drug off.
“Oh fuck.” she rubbed her neck and laughed along with the girls, her heart racing as one of them dragged her out of the bathroom. Since she had gone to school and had gotten sorority sisters it had become so fun for her to have a group of girlfriends around at all times. Even if they were just strangers from the bathroom.
The group of girls had been drinking at the bar, the loud laughter as they shut out guys trying to walk up to them. Sasha, who was usually blossoming with confidence, was even more high on the attention. She leaned over the bar smiling down at the bartender and waving him over.
“Frankie, can I have the whole bottle of vodka? Please?” she put on her pouty face and when he tried to look up, probably trying to see where Nikki was so he could reel in his girlfriend, she grabbed his face, “My eyes are right here.” the girls in the group all were teetering and when the man sighed giving her the bottle she smiled her award winning smile. “Are you girls ready to have some fun?” she asked, tilting the bottle into her mouth.
Sasha was climbing up on the bar, stepping over drinks and dancing along to the music. A few of the girls had followed her up onto the wood space but weren’t casually using the space as their own dance runway. Whenever someone would complain she’d bend down, tilting their head back as she poured vodka into their mouths. Nikki spotted her and thought she was absolutely wrecked. He was pushing through the crowd wondering how in the half hour he lost her she had gotten this wasted. He watched her pour vodka into her mouth guzzling it down in a way that would make Mick proud.
“Angel.” she heard her nickname and turned quickly, bending down to where the bassist was at the corner of the bar. She tried to pour the bottle down his throat but he quickly took it from her, handing it back to the man tending bar. Watching with a slight smirk as she gave him this little pout. “I think it’s time to go.” she gave him a look and he saw her bloodshot eyes. Obviously she had drank way more than he had given her credit for. She placed her hands on his shoulders letting him lift her down off the bar. Sasha knew better than to fight to stay out. If he was ready to go home that’s where they would be going.
It was quiet as they walked back to the car and she was worried that he was mad at her. Even though Nikki had her wrapped up in his arms the silence gave her a little bit of worry. She ran her hand down his arm, resting her head against him as they walked.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked, finally getting the courage to speak. She heard the rumbling of a chuckle and looked up to see his amused face looking down at her. Nikki held her face in his hands leaning down to kiss her . The fear she had melted away from this action.
“I love how fun you are.” he eased her fears with his words and she felt better knowing that she wasn’t on his bad side. “Now, cmon, angel. If we’re leaving early I’m going to take advantage of the time that I had with you.” The smile was over both their faces as they went to the Porsche and headed home.
Tommy’s eyes narrowed, his gaze on Sasha who seemed a little flustered as the drummer of Kiss pinned her in the corner. Her usual cool demeanor changed as her eyes shifted around the room, trying to look past the man. When her eyes landed on him,, Tommy was pushing through the crowd, trying to find NIkki in the chaos backstage but needing to get to her. She reached out a hand when he was close letting Tommy yank her away from Eric. The man turned, stunned to see him giving her a once over. The way her eyes were looking made him know that she was shaken up.
“Hey man, aren’t you guys supposed to go on?” Tommy swore, he was right. He couldn’t find Nikki because he had probably already grabbed his bass and headed towards the stage. He grabbed Sasha bringing her to the side of the stage. He could see the way she was looking behind her, hugging Nikki’s jacket together around her. She was uncomfortable and had nervous energy radiating off of her.
“Listen, stand right fucking here. And if that creep comes near you, you just step onto stage. Don’t let him get you alone. I’ll deal with the prick.” He looked up at the guys on stage and sighed rushing out.
It was only the second show of the tour and Sasha already wasn’t sure if she was cut out for being on the road. As much as she loved seeing the band play and partying it was like being at a restaurant and she was the main course. Nikki was shooting glances at her from the stage. He had seen the way Tommy had placed her and had a feeling like something wasn’t right. He looked at Sasha again, smirking when he saw her singing along to the songs he had written. She was wrapped up in his jacket, covering up the tight black dress. He wished it would always be like this, the feeling of being on the stage with so many people singing his music and the cherry on top was having his girl there.
“Got ya.” The hands on her hip made her jump, her heart sinking as she realized that she had let her guard down again. She was being jerked back, her eyes leaving Nikki who had just been looking at her a second before. Her eyes went to Tommy who was slamming the drums so hard he couldn’t pay attention to her, “I’ve heard stories about the band and how they share their girls. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind helping me out.” He was pressing her hand against him as she tried to yank away. “Don’t play hard to get, sugar. I’m not into that shit.” He was pulling her towards the dressing room and Sasha was thinking if she should scream. Her eyes looked around and the last thing she wanted to do was fuck that up for them.
“Let me go.” She hissed through gritted teeth. She was trying to tear away from him but this just made the drummer hold her wrist tighter.
“I’ve warned you once.” He was by her ear, hissing in annoyance, “We only have twenty minutes before I have to go on and I want those pretty lips wrapped around my fat cock.” Sasha slammed her heel down on his foot, the spike literally piercing the boot and causing him to scream out, his hand loosened and she was kicking off her shoes running back to the main area backstage. “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” She saw the guys coming off stage and rushed over practically knocking Nikki over as she jumped into his arms.
“Hey , Angel, you disappeared for a few minutes there.” He was sweaty from the stage but he held the girl close, kissing her as she looked up at him with her wild blue eyes.
“I wasn’t done with you, sugar.” A hand was grabbing her forearm and Nikki moved her behind him stepping towards the Kiss drummer.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Nikki growled, he didn’t know who the duck this guy thought he was putting hands on his girl. He could see T-bone walking up next to him and realized now why the drummer was late to get on stage.
“Listen man, it’s your life. We all share.” Nikki felt his eyebrows furrow together. It was so easy for this guy to talk about his girl like that and he did not like that, “You can’t bring your groupie girlfriend to shows and not expect to have to share her with everyone.” Tommy was stepping up now. Touching Sasha’s shoulder to let her know it was okay before saying anything.
“That’s my fucking sister, asshole.” He realized now that he had really messed with the wrong girl.
“And that’s my girlfriend. If you touch her, fuck, if you even look at her again I’ll break your hands so you never play drums again.” Nikki warned. He turned looking at Sasha who was nervous. “Cmon, Angel.” She let him tuck her into his side as they left the building. Nikki got her into the bus and turned pulling her into his arms tightly. “Are you okay?” He whispered into her hair. His heart was pounding and all that he could think about was he was going to be leaving her for a few days alone.
“I’m fine. Nothing happened. That guys just a dickhead. You’re crushing me though.” She added poking her head out and looking up at him with a reassuring smile. He had such a serious look, a frown etched on his face. “Nikki, stop worrying about me. I’m going to be fine. I’m going to drive your car too fast, go out every night with the girls, do tons of drugs, and maybe even do amateur night at the Seventh Veil to pay the rent.” She teased him.
“If you do amateur night I want to be there.” He smiled, picking her up and moving towards his bunk. “Why don’t you help me break in the bunk and we can say our goodbyes properly?” He laid her on the bunk pulling the curtain closed behind them. “We don’t have a lot of time, angel, so let me have you. You’ve been taking your pills like a good girl, right?” he watched the way she blushes when he calls her a good girl but Nikki has realized his girlfriend is quite submissive and likes it when he talks to her like this. She nods her head and he smiles, stroking her cheek.
Sasha is shimmying out of his jacket trying to maneuver in the small space. The jacket is off and Nikki is pulling up the short dress, moaning with approval as he sees her bare pussy. Before she can think he’s running two fingers along her wetness, pushing into her core without warning and coming out covered in her honey. He’s licking hungirly, tasting her on his fingertips.
“We don’t have long.” she warned him because she can see Nikki getting carried away with all the things that he wanted to do with her. His eyes flash to hers and for a second she thinks he’s going to warn her not to rush him but instead he nodded his head. His fingers unlacing his pants.
“I’m going to take you hard and fast, Angel. You’re going to be sore tomorrow but I want you to ache for me.” she nods her head as he moves over her. Sasha reaches up, pulling him down into a kiss, tasting him. The cigarettes and whiskey overwhelmed his senses. Nikki is pushing into her, the thickness of him stretching her as her body molds to him.
“Fuck, Daddy.” he pulls away, this devilish smirk on his face hearing her call him this new nickname. Her eyes are fluttered half closed as he’s moving himself into her. HIs hands grip her hips making it so she can’t move an inch. She was always loud during sex but Nikki is kissing her now because he’s sure that if there are fans outside the bus they can hear her. He wants more of her and is ripping down the front of her dress, watching as her tits bounce as his body slams into hers. He’s never this rough with her but it’s very apparent that she’s loving it. Her wetness is slipping out of her body onto the sheets. He’s going to smell her every day he’s gone.
His fingers brush against her clit and she’s loud in the gasping moan that comes out, her mouth in a perfect circle. Needy in the way she’s pushing against him, demanding more without speaking a word aloud. Nikki feels her thighs, shaking against his body as she’s already starting to lose control.
“Cum for me angel.” he  growled out, his hands phishing her back down to get her ass to go up higher., “I’m going to fill you up. You’re going to be dripping me out on your taxi ride home.” her blue eyes flash up at him and she’s so lost in the pleasure of him fucking her that she was not shy. Her usual blush was just flushed cheeks from her pleasure
“I want you to fuck me harder. Please, daddy.” She knows she got to him because NIkki’s groans loudly at her words. Not the usual pants or moans he’d barely get out. The sounds of their bodies meeting with hard wet slaps was filling the bus and her skin was raw and red from his aggression.
“Get on your hands and knees, angel. If you want it rough you’re going to get it.” Flipping over she arches her back, her ass in the air, wiggling it suggestively and gasping out when the hard slap Nikki lays on it stings her.
“NIKKI!” she looked behind her shoulder, mouth slightly open from the surprise spank. The bassist is smiling, grabbing her hips and bringing her back against her cock. It’s deeper in this position and he can hear her soft groans into the bedspread as she adjusts to him at this angle. Her fists are in the sheets and he brings her hips back. Nikki  pushes up her dress, hand on her back as he’s ramming into her. She has nowhere to go and her body is shaking as drives himself deeper. HIs hand slaps her ass again, watching her head toss back and the small smile she gives him.  
Her ass is rosy red from him getting over excited and slapping at it. He tells himself he needs to stop or she won’t be able to sit in the cab on the way home from the spanking. His fingers slide between her legs and he’s not sure if she’d ever been this wet for him. He let his two fingers press against her clit, feeling the motion of himself rocking into her. The sticky wet sounds filling the bunk along with her muffled pants and moans. He circles her button, opens his fingers and slides it between tugging at her nerves and feeling her seem to lift up at this.
“I want you to cum for me now. I’m ready to fill you up and I want to feel you squeezing every drop from me. Deep inside of you. Can you do that like a good girl?” She's a mess of blonde hair but he sees her nod. He wants more time to play with her and explore all the things that make her shake for him. Instead he;s rubbing her clit side to side with his other hand going to her stomach; he knows when she finished she was going to collapse. “Tell me where you want me to cum,angel. You tell me what you want.” This feral need to hear her want him is filling Nikki, as he’s trying to keep himself steady and not lose himself in her.
“I want you to fill my pussy.” He hears her gasp out as he pressed her and then she is coming apart. He watched her elbows fall and her ass is higher as he feels her squeezing around him, drawing him deeper. Nikki’s hand slides to her back to steady himself as he pushes into her, his cock twitching as he starts to fill her.
He was switching out of horny mode as he pulled out of her, his eyes smirking as her ass slid down so she was laying on the bed. It was red from his hands slapping against it and he knew it must sting. Her eyes were sleepy and he knew this was where the usually aftercare of sex came in. He felt guilty knowing she couldn’t shower and clean up right away or come into bed to wrap herself around him, letting him kiss the hickeys and marks he lovingly made. Part of her love language was the need for him to take care of her after sex.
“Angel-“
“I know I need to leave so you can leave.” She muttered, adjusting herself so her dress covered her again. Nikki laid down next to her taking her hand in his, running his thumb over her fingers. “I need to go. Sixx. You’ll be fine.” She teased nudging him out of the bunk.
Nikki helped her out, making sure to grab his jacket and wrap it around her. He could see she was uncomfortable and his mind was racing thinking of what to do or say to her. Before he could get a word out Mick was walking onto the bus.
“Your cab is outside.” Nikki felt this weird compulsion where he wanted to ask her to stay but he was afraid because she would say no. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go but it was that she had her own dreams that she needed to meet.
“I’ll see you in Vegas in a few days. Try not to get arrested. Please watch Tommy for me.” She asked with a small smile. She was in tip toes kissing him, letting him wrap her in his arms before she got off the bus with a small wave and left him to go tour.
Sasha was pulled from the hotel room, her nose slightly bleeding from all the coke she had been doing with the girls. Her sorority sisters had convinced her to get on a flight Wednesday afternoon with them to go to Vegas. She was supposed to fly in Friday morning to be with Nikki but after class that day they knew she was done for the week and had met her in a cab to drag her to the airport.
Now they had been drinking and doing drugs for the last five hours and she was so fucked up. The red leather dress she was wearing clung to every curve and left very little o the imagination. The night sky was illuminated with neon lights and they all stopped for a second to look around. It was cooler at night and she wished she had brought a jacket but before she could say anything her arm was looped with her friend Jamie and they were headed out down the Strip.
“Are you good?” Her friend asked as they went into a packed bar. Instead of giving an answer she just laughed rushing through the group and out to the dance floor, plucking a drink from someone’s hand as she went. Her body twisted around people, her head spinning as she laughed. Her friends were all around her, dancing together as they enjoyed the night with just the girls.
The phone was ringing for what seemed like the hundredth time without someone answering the damn thing. Nikki slammed the receiver down reaching for his cigarettes. She was supposed to be home hours ago. Nikki hadn’t spoken to his girlfriend in twenty four hours and was now losing his mind. Tommy burst into the room, not knowing why they weren’t out on the town together. He saw the grouchy look on the bassists face and knew what was bothering him before he even said anything.
“She’s probably out with her friends, like you should be.” Tommy motioned for the door and Nikki sighed. He should go out with the boys and enjoy Vegas. There was the chance she had picked up extra shifts at work or she was out with her girlfriends. Maybe she was going to a roller disco or spending too much  money on the clothes she would tease him in until he was ripping them off. “C’mon, Sixx. There’s a nightclub downstairs and you can make fun of everyone and we can get wasted and charge a bill to one of the dudes in Kiss’s room.” He was getting up following the drummer out of the room.
“This better be fun. And she better not call when we’re out.” Nikki grumbled as they got in the elevator. He had talked to her about their schedule and there was no reason that she should be missing. Tommy did have a point about her having her own life. He wanted her to be able to have time with her friends but he was feeling codependent. And she was the first person in his life that he really missed.
He hated the music but he sat at the bar drinking anyway. Tommy was trying to find girls and blow for them well he people watched. Sasha would love it here. He could imagine her dancing to the shitty disco music, her laughter as people clapped along to songs. He was missing her so much he swore he heard the sound of her laughing. His eyes scanned the crowd and his eyes narrowed as he saw a girl that looked like one of her friends. Nikki was standing up moving through the dances in a fog. There was no way that she could be there but sure enough he saw the tight red leather dress, her hand out as her friend tapped a bump of cocaine out and her sniffing, rubbing her nose after and downing her drink. As if she sensed him, her eyes looked up meeting Nikki’s.
“Oh Shit.” he heard her mutter, the girls looked up as he got closer and they all had the sense to scatter instead of dealing with him, “Hey, Sixx. Fancy meeting you here. Lets dance.” she joked in reference to the Bowie song playing. Here she was, partying, nose red from all the coke she had been sniffing, in this tighter than life red leather dress looking like a dream. All the fears of her being dead were gone and Nikki couldn’t help but lean forward kissing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wiggling her body and he rolled his eyes.
“One song, angel.” he warned, watching the pure delight on her face. He grabbed the red glass vile she was holding tapping out some powder on his hand and sniffing it up. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. None of this shit when we get home.” she knew he meant the drugs so she nodded. Her hands raised in the air as she wiggled closed to him.
“Let's dance, Sixx. And then you can take me up to your hotel room and give me all the love that I earned after the tour bus. I couldn’t sit right for a full day.” she gave him a pouty look and he was kissing her again thinking of dragging her up to the room now. He wanted her, all of her and it was all that he could think of.
“I wish you were wearing a white dress.” he was dragging her close.
“Way to make a girl feel good about herself.” she muttered. A teasing smile on her lips, “I thought you’d like my rock and roll outfit. I was going to rewear this for your show on Saturday but I guess not.” He looked nervous and she suddenly wondered if they had both were too fucked up. “Hey, let's just get out of here.” She was pulling him off the crowded dance floor but Nikki had this look on his face like he was realizing something.
“Would you marry me tomorrow?” He asked as they got over to where the bar was. He was looking at her and realizing things he had been taking for granted. Sasha laughed while sipping the water she had ordered to cool down.
“Of course. You know how I feel about you.” They haven’t said the words yet but she hoped he still knew. Nikki was looking at her still, the intense gaze throwing her off kilter. “Why are you looking at me like that? You’re making me nervous.” She admitted but he was grabbing her hand and not seeming to realize he was acting like a complete maniac.
“Do you know how I feel about you? Do you know how much I love you? Because I do love you. I love how you take care of me without me even realizing you’re taking care of me. I love how you gas up my music and make it seem like we’re topping the Billboard charts. You always show up, even when I was an asshole you’d come to shows and be there for us. You love me outside of the stage makeup and rockstar shoes. You love me in the kitchen making dinner or on Sundays when I watch football. You love me and not who I need to be. You know me so well and you don’t resent me. And you trust me.” He was ranting but she was listening, her eyes on him as she took in everything he was saying to her, “You’re the first person I’ve ever missed. It’s a big joke about how pouty I was leaving but, my god, when you’re not around it sucks. So please marry me tomorrow, Angel. We can elope in a little church and start our lives in true richer or poorer fashion.” Sasha realized that he was serious and that he really did want to marry her.
“April 1st. I’ll marry you on April 1st. That way you never have an excuse to forget our anniversary.” She teased. Nikki scooped her into his arms, her legs wrapping around him as he carried her into the hotel room. They had less than 48 hours to plan everything.
“Where the fuck is Tommy?” Sasha asked, turning to look around the small room she and her girlfriends were in. They were all crammed into the Vegas wedding chapel and there was this weird unspoken question with everyone wondering if this was just an April fools joke the couple was playing on everyone. But the girls had gone out to help her find the vintage lace tea length dress she was wearing. They had all gotten the red dresses to be her stand in bridesmaid and they made sure she had a bouquet of flowers. They seemed to realize when she bought a wedding ring for her soon to be husband that this wasn’t a joke for her.
Tommy burst into the room holding a couple boxes wrapped in newspaper and balancing a bouquet of pink roses on top. Sasha rushed forward grabbing the flowers before he dropped them, smiling as she sniffed the fresh buds. Tommy had on a white shirt that he had tucked into leather pants and his usual beat up Chuck Taylor’s on. He had a pink rose pinned to the denim jacket that he was wearing.
“Your groom has sent you some gifts.” He said putting them down on the table. Before she could open them he was pulling her aside, “Are you guys seriously getting married because Nikki is putting a lot of effort in and I can’t decide if it’s all just an April Fools joke or
not.” He seemed confused by everything that was going on and his head was spinning. Nikki had been so dead set against relationships and now he was going to marry Sasha after only being with her officially for maybe three months. It seemed crazy.
“You’re walking me down the aisle and I’m going to marry Nikki. But first you need to give him this.” She handed him a box that was wrapped in white paper, a gold bow on top that she made and probably took her a half hour to tie. Tommy groaned after being the errand boy. “Here, take a shot with me before you go.” She was pouring out Jack Daniels in healthy amounts into the glasses, shooting it back as he left.
Her attention shifted to the gifts on the table and she grabbed the smaller box first. Inside was a pair of Keds, she smiled seeing Nikki’s neat hand writing ‘Mrs.Sixx 4-1-83’ on the shoes. A small note inside the box said this was for her to not get cold feet. She slipped the Keds on, glad to get rid of the heels. The next box revealed a leather jacket where he had put a Motley Crue patch, a few pins, and on the back was Mrs. Sixx. Another note let her know that it was for the concert tonight. She couldn’t contain her smile thinking about how she was going to be his wife. She was so excited and didn’t have any fear in her about him. She wondered if she was stupid for not taking a second and thinking about what it would mean to be his wife. She had just wanted to be with him and she was going to do it.
Nikki tied the black boots she had bought him, smiling at how they both had very similar gifts. Instead of giving him a jacket she had made him this scrapbook. It had a ton of stuff from the start of the band she had saved, making him realize how she had been there for it all. And then there were pictures he didn’t know existed of the two of them. Images of them in the morning at the original apartment with her sitting on the windowsill and him I’m talking. There were pictures of Halloween with her in her bunny costume, a random hand that he was sure was Vince’s creeping into view to grab the tail well he had his arm around her. His favorite picture was this one where they had been talking, sitting on a stone wall and he was cupping her face. They had been talking when Tommy had snapped the picture and he had turned to look for the photo but she was looking at him with pure love.
He knew that he wouldn’t ever feel the way he did for Sasha with anyone else and as much as he joked about not getting married until the late 80s it felt like then to elope in Vegas. He still wanted to be in the band and get big and he wanted her to finish college and have her life. The marriage wasn’t going to stop either of them from having their goals but it just cemented them together. Nikki loved her. He wanted this whole life with her and he wasn’t going to rush everything else like kids but he wanted her love selfishly to himself. He wanted her to be his wife and for everyone to know that she was off fucking limits. He looked at the time and knew that it was time.
Nikki was standing at the end of the aisle, next to Elvis. He hadn’t wanted to get married by Elvis but this was really their only option in the city. Plus when they had been asked if they wanted Elvis Sasha had laughed so hard thinking it was a joke and when they had told her it was a serious option she couldn’t say no. Mick and Vince were beside him and her girlfriends standing across from them. He gulped hearing the wedding song, pulling at his leather jacket and running his palms over the black denim. He was thankful she had asked for pictures to be taken because he never wanted to forget the moment he saw her. Her vintage dress was exactly what he had imagined her in, the Keds he had made for her showing as she walked down the aisle holding his drummers arm. She gave him this smile about halfway down and Nikki was walking towards her, leaning down to kiss her before he knew what he was doing.
“Dude you’re supposed to wait until I hand her off to you.” Tommy said shaking his head, but Nikki was taking her hand walking her up to Elvis. She handed her bouquet to one of the girls and he took both her hands, kissing them.
“You’re gorgeous.” He loved seeing the pink in her cheeks and the way her blue eyes sparkled at his compliment. “I love you.” He had waited too long to say it and now he couldn’t stop telling her.
“I know.” She retorted with that big smile. Her eyes shifted to the man that was marrying them and suddenly everyone was waiting for the big April Fools announcement. But the couple was staring at each other with such intensity and saying I Do.
“I now pronounce these two hunka hunka burning lovers, as Man and Wife. You can kiss your bride.” Nikki held her face in his hands, feeling her hands on his biceps. A smile on both of their faces as they pulled away.
“Hello, Mrs. Sixx.” Nikki said softly, watching the way her blue eyes flashed in excitement.
“Hi Mr. Sixx, are you ready for your concert?” She asked as he weaved their hands together.  The pair moved out of the church, rice being thrown at them like a weapon thanks to the boys. Sasha grabbed the jacket Nikki had given her, shrugging it on.
“You two really got married. That wasn’t an April’s fool joke?” Vince asked, stunned as he looked between the pair of them. Nikki had his arm wrapped around His wife, a smile on his face. The photographer was still taking pictures of them.
“I’m Mrs. Sixx now, Vinny boy. That means no more goose honking my ass.” She warned looking at the lead singer. The blonde man looked crushed by this fact. If he had known this wasn’t a joke he would have honked all morning.
“I told you it was real.” Mick told them. The couple were smiling at each other not seeming to care about the argument that everyone was having around them. Nikki kept spinning the ring on her finger. She had on a sapphire ring with diamonds around it because she had been obsessed with the Royal Wedding the summer he met her. Obsessed to the point Nikki found a hoard of magazines about it. He loved feeling the ring on her finger and loved how she looked in the leather jacket with his name on it.
“Nikki.” She said his name softly and his attention was all hers. “This is the best day of my life. I love you. I’m always going to love you. I just wanted you to know that.” The bassist had felt alone for so long and he knew now that it was them in it together.
“You and me, Angel. Forever.” He promised, sealing the deal with a kiss. They didn’t have anything but dreams and each other but they both felt like they had it all.
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seagreen-meets-grey ¡ 5 years ago
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When Lightning Strikes Ch. 1
When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won't even know what hit you.
Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.
[Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]
Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net
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- Part 1 - 
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Astrid really should have seen this coming.
Her boyfriend had been acting weird all day, throwing her strange looks, dropping his coffee mug, nervously wringing his hands while asking her if she wanted to go out for dinner tonight. She’d had no plans – which she realized later had been planned by him all along – so she agreed to go.
Eret took her to a very nice restaurant in a part of town she’d only rarely been to before. It was so fancy it had valet parking, two well-dressed young men opening the doors for them when they went inside, soft piano tunes played live by a pianist sitting at the grandest piano she had ever seen, and several different sets of cutlery she struggled to connect to their respective uses.
Astrid almost felt underdressed in her simple skirt and blouse, but Eret kept reassuring her that she looked beautiful.
“I just wanted to go somewhere special with you, love,” he simply said when she asked him why they hadn’t just gone for burgers like they usually did, and ordered the best champagne the restaurant offered. Really, Astrid was later surprised she didn’t make the connection immediately, almost expecting something golden flashing at her from the bottom of her delicate champagne glass.
After dinner, they strolled through the small park behind the restaurant, arms linked and making fun of the various guests that had been dining around them, more upper class than either of them would ever experience. Astrid blinked into the setting sun; gone was her brief frustration with her boyfriend when he’d refused to let her pay at least a quarter of the massive bill.
When they reached an impressive fountain surrounded by torches, the flames reflecting in the crystal-clear water, Eret suddenly cleared his throat. Momentarily distracted by the beautiful lights, Astrid almost missed him starting a long speech about how happy she made him, how much he loved falling asleep next to her, only to look forward to waking up to her pretty face in the morning. He went on reminiscing about the adventures they’d had together during the course of their relationship, about the way her punches filled him with life, and how he had realized she was the love of his life and he wanted to spend the rest of it together with her.
When he proceeded to fall on one knee, it was almost too much for Astrid. This entire night had been romantic, a bit too romantic for her taste, drawing the picture of the perfect proposal. And when he fished a black velvet box out of his jacket, opened it and asked the question, the light from the torches caught in the small golden band he was presenting her, completing the picture.
Her answer was only logical. Despite the circumstances of this act not really being her style, she still felt elated, and the answer felt just right to her. She and Eret had been together for a few years now, had lived together for most of them, and she couldn’t find a reason for ever breaking up with him. So she broke into a wide grin and nodded.
“Is that a yes?”
Astrid kept nodding. “Yes!”
Eret swooped her up in his arms and kissed her passionately before sliding the ring on her finger. It sat a little loose on her skin but not so loose that she had to worry it could slip over the joint.
Although Astrid would have been totally fine if the ring had ended up in a glass of soda while they were watching a movie at home, Astrid was happy, and very much so. Nothing could throw a dent in her elated state.
Until two weeks later, thunder started rolling through the sky.
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The sun shining through the bathroom window was warming Astrid’s face as she brushed her hair and put it into a loose braid over her shoulder. Adding a little touch of make-up, she smiled at herself in the mirror. Her mother was right, she had a certain glow about her. Post-engagement-pre-married glow, she called it.
A few days ago, Eret and she had started going through their calendars to agree on a date for the wedding, and the more they talked about it, the more excited Astrid felt. Her friends had asked her if she wasn’t nervous, but she figured that would come later in the planning phase, closer to the actual wedding. These days, she was constantly smiling. Eret said it was almost creepy.
She swatted at Eret when he gave her a kiss on the cheek, almost ruining her make-up, as they left their apartment not much later. Leaving their cars at home, they started the ten-minute walk to the next bus station since they anticipated that they would both be legally and physically unable to drive at some point of the night. Dagur, a friend of Eret’s, was having a party for his 30th birthday, and if Dagur “The Deranged” was throwing a party, no one would leave still able to operate a vehicle.
About half-way to the station, dark, thick clouds gradually began to cover up the sky above them, slowly building a wall between the sun and the earth. A fresh breeze took up but Astrid wasn’t cold. It felt rather liberating, the air charged with electricity, the heat of the afternoon gone. She took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of rain and storms. She hadn’t realized the weight the summer heat had put on her shoulders, her head, her chest. New energy ran through her and she skipped a few steps ahead, smile widening.
“What’s got you so excited?” Eret chuckled when she twirled back around to face him.
Walking backwards, she briefly considered explaining how the brooding thunderstorm above them filled her with anticipation, charged her nerves with a thousand volts, made her heart beat faster at the promise of a heavy downpour. But then she simply shrugged and turned back around so she didn’t bump into a parking car or a traffic sign. “I’m just ready to party.”
“I’m gonna tell Dagur you said that.”
“Oh, please do. I still need to get back at him for stealing my last bottle of tequila.”
“I’m looking forward to holding your hair while you puke your guts out tonight.”
Without looking, Astrid gave her fiancĂŠ the bird over her shoulder, earning herself a hearty chuckle.
On their drive to Dagur’s house, Astrid felt the air charge with voltage more and more the closer they came to their destination, almost to the point where the anticipation became unbearable. But when they exited the bus and a cool gust of wind blew a few strands of hair out of her braid, the strange feeling gave way to her former excitement and she was the first at the door.
A young woman about Astrid’s age with long black hair let them in and introduced herself as Dagur’s sister. She led them through an already buzzing crowd of people into what under normal circumstances seemed to be a living room. Plastic cups, bowls of snacks and bottles of various beverages, mostly alcoholic, were covering almost every surface. A huge stereo was playing loud beats with a bass so powerful Astrid felt it vibrate deep in her chest, sending waves of electric tingles through her body.
Looking around, she didn’t recognize anyone. Eret knew Dagur from college, back when he and Astrid had first started dating, but everyone else she remembered from that period wasn’t here. So while Eret went to get them drinks, Astrid turned towards Dagur’s sister who was still standing nearby.
“Heather, was it?” She had to shout over the music for her words to reach the other girl.
“Yes, and you must be Astrid. Dagur told me about you.”
Astrid glanced around at the mention of him. “Where’s the birthday boy, anyway?”
Heather pursed her lips and shrugged. “That is a good question. Chances are high he’s either fighting a pack of wolves in the garden or outdrinking rivals somewhere else in the house.”
Astrid chuckled. That sounded like Dagur. Biting her lip, she tried to think of something else to talk to Heather about. For a moment, she felt awkward standing there in the middle of the room with Dagur’s sister, without any connection to her or anyone else around her. She was glad when Eret returned and handed her a drink. While she took a long sip, feeling the alcohol run down her throat, she heard the first roll of thunder in the sky.
“I think the storm is about to start,” she chimed in when she noticed that Eret had momentarily run out of conversational topics. Both Eret and Heather looked at her confused.
“Storm?” Heather asked and turned to look outside. “Oh, right. Looks like rain.”
“Didn’t you just hear the thunder? It was pretty loud,” Astrid said, realizing she was yelling so as to be heard over the music.
“Couldn’t hear anything,” Eret said, talking close to her ear. “Maybe we should turn down the music a notch or else I won’t be able to either hear or talk anymore in an hour.”
“What did you say?” Heather yelled back.
While Eret repeated his suggestion, Astrid frowned to herself. How had she heard the thunder, anyway? She figured she must have imagined it. She still felt the electricity in the air, in her veins, a strange tug in her stomach, resembling the feeling of stopping on a rollercoaster hill right before the drop. Gulping down more of her drink, she felt her heartbeat speed up.
Suddenly, something tugged at the field of her vision and made her turn her head. In an instant, all the energy that had been building inside her for the past hour or two discharged at once. It made the hairs on her arms stand up, her toes and the tips of her fingers went numb, her stomach dropped out and the breath caught in her throat.
Her eyes locked with green.
And lightning struck.
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It wasn’t long after the first guests had arrived that the party was in full swing. Dagur was walking around with a bottle of vodka, constantly pouring some into people’s cups. His typical manic laughter could be heard through the whole house, even when someone decided to find out Dagur’s stereo’s full capability in terms of volume.
Slowly sipping at his drink, Hiccup did his best to avoid the crazy man. He knew that if he let Dagur be in charge of his alcohol consumption, he’d be dead in a ditch by midnight. Instead, he kept observing his surroundings, drawing a map of the house in his mind, highlighting all the different escape routes. Whenever he heard the sound of Dagur’s voice or saw people subtly shuffling out of the man’s field of vision when they saw him approach with his bottle of hellish liquid, he called up his imaginary map and disappeared down the next emergency exit.
Several times during his continued run from Dagur, Hiccup passed the glass door that led into the garden. But whenever he stuck out his hand to the handle, something held him back, something in the depths of his mind, or heart, or soul, he couldn’t quite decipher it. Glancing up at the sky, he figured it was some kind of weather sense telling him it was about to rain cats and dogs that made him draw back. For some reason, he felt that inside the house was where he was supposed to be right now.
That didn’t help him, though, when in an unwary moment, Dagur laid eyes on him. “Hiccup, brother!”
“Oh, shit,” Hiccup cursed under his breath and spun around, frantically searching for the next best escape and spotting the open door to the garden. Ignoring Dagur’s calls, he made a beeline for the exit, slipping out into the cool evening air that tasted of ozone and was filled with something, something unidentifiable. A few groups of people were gathered in different corners of the porch and the large lawn. Hiccup briefly considered running off into the adjacent woods, but a large hand on his shoulder made that plan evaporate into thin air.
“Brother! You can’t hide from me forever, man,” Dagur said and chuckled when Hiccup tried to stop himself from grimacing. “Watcha got in there?” He laid an arm around Hiccup’s shoulders and peeked into his cup. He smelled of weed.
Hiccup held his drink out of reach for Dagur so he couldn’t easily fill it up with vodka. Dagur didn’t seem to notice.
“You and I, brother Hiccup, we need to down some shots. I haven’t hung out with you all night.” His words didn’t indicate it but his slightly swaying movements showed that he’d had lots of those already. Hiccup tried to get out of Dagur’s headlock but his grip was too strong, so he couldn’t do anything but let the bigger man lead him to one of the foldable bar tables that were standing around the garden.
As soon as Hiccup put his cup on the table, Dagur poured a generous amount of vodka into it. Hiccup sighed in defeat and took a careful sip, regretting every decision he ever made that led him to this day. The alcohol burned in his throat and he recoiled at the taste of almost pure vodka. He wasn’t made for this.
Dagur babbled on about everything and nothing while Hiccup swallowed and perked up at the sudden urge to run back inside. Although the air out here was nice and fresh and he could feel the first drops of rain on his skin, something tugging on the insides of his gut wanted him inside where the air was surely hot and stuffy. Taking a deep breath, Hiccup took one more sip of his drink and shook his head, grimacing again.
“Hey, Dagur, um, brother,” he started, interrupting what sounded like the story of how Dagur lost his v-card, “I’m just gonna head inside, to… To use the bathroom. Yes, bathroom.” And without waiting for an answer, he darted away from the death trap of a man, leaving his cup behind and heading back inside.
He’d guessed right, the air inside the house was awful, full of condensed sweat and alcohol and lacking the appropriate amount of oxygen. He felt the need to open all the windows. He couldn’t be the only one not enjoying this.
Before Dagur could try and follow him, he fled to the other side of the house, bumping into several drunk people on the way. A brief check of his watch confirmed what he’d expected of one of Dagur’s parties: that most people were already drunk long before midnight.
Arriving at the point of the house furthest from Dagur, Hiccup leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. But this pressing feeling in his gut, this urge to be somewhere, this weird anticipation of something to happen at any moment now was still there, still made him absentmindedly drum his fingers against his legs in an uneven rhythm. He shook his head, trying to get rid of this feeling. He suspected that Dagur had given him something not entirely pure vodka. He vowed to make sure he didn’t accept any more drinks from the man tonight.
Taking another deep breath, he pushed himself off the wall and went looking for the one person at this party he wanted to talk to right now. But the already very crowded house – who even were all these people? – gave Hiccup a hard time finding Heather. At last, he entered the living room once again. He’d actually hoped that she wasn’t here because this room was too close to the last place he’d seen her brother and therefore a dangerous place for Hiccup to be.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, though, he felt the strange tug again. He made a few more steps into the room and scanned the crowd for long black hair. But instead of Heather, his eyes found something else.
And in the exact moment he locked eyes with piercing blue, a blinding flash of lightning went off in the sky, in the garden, in this very living room. It jolted right through his heart, his mind, leaving nothing but vast numbness in its trail.
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thewritewolf ¡ 5 years ago
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Rekindle Chapter 31: Supernatural Creatures
Our heroes settle into their new routine, eyes firmly fixed on the future.
Thank you to everyone that has read Rekindle! It has been a long two months as this story careened wildly out of my control, but I am very proud of it. I hope you’ll join me on Monday as I finish off the Love Square months with a Ladynoir story, and stay with me to finish off Close to You. 
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And, as always: Enjoy!
Read on Ao3
One year later...
“How is the latest article going?” Marinette directed her question across the cafe table to her long standing best friend.
It wasn’t very often that the four of them got to meet together, but it had gotten better once Alya and Nino had moved back to Paris. The patrols were nice but that was rarely more than two of them at a time. These weekly coffee double dates weren’t always easy to attend, especially with how busy their schedules were these days. But after so much time lost, they found a way to make it work.
“Pretty good, M. Just need some editing before I turn it in. Care to lend a hand?” She passed a USB towards Marinette with a smirk. Marinette slipped it in her purse, knowing that it was sure to have more than just the standard news articles on it if she was getting it this way.
At Marinette’s side, Adrien grinned. “I take it you’re high in demand these days?”
“Lots of places are looking to hire the freelancer that did the expose on the mayor.” Alya’s grin became predatory. “After all, anyone that can uproot the rich and powerful of Paris is someone you want on your side.”
“I hear Alya isn’t the only one that’s doing good, dude.” Nino said between sips of his coffee. “A little dude told me you two have something to tell us.”
Adrien and Marinette exchanged a look. They knew letting all their kwamis mingle would end up biting them in the butt. The only question was, which of their kwamis did the tattling? Was it Tikki, the gossip, or Plagg, the mischief-maker?
“Well, if the cat’s already out of the bag…” Adrien shrugged and nodded at her.
Reaching into her purse, Marinette slipped on her engagement ring and held it out for their friends to see. They leaned forward and marveled at the relatively plain but beautiful ring. Not that Adrien hadn’t wanted to give her something much more ornate, of course, but he knew her well enough to know what she truly wanted.
Crossing her arms, Alya snorted. “It’s about time you two dorks got married. I’ve only been shipping this since we were fourteen, girl!”
“Nice, dudes!” Nino grinned and leaned forward onto the table. “So when’s the wedding and, more importantly, the honeymoon?” He waggled his arms suggestively at Adrien, prompting his wife to smack his arm.
“Leave my innocent babies alone.” She looked at them out of the corner of her eye. “But seriously, when is the wedding?”
“We’re not sure yet, honestly.” Adrien shrugged. “It’s been a lot of work just getting sales rolling and wiggling our way into the big shows. Although we’ve had it easier than most, though, since my beautiful fiancee has been preparing for this since before we’d even met.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head.
“Don’t sell yourself short, hot stuff,” Marinette said as she looked up at him. “You’ve been a godsend, and not just because you know the ins and outs of these things. You’ve kept me going even after I felt burnt out.” She leaned forward for a kiss, but Alya cleared her throat. “Oh fine. Anyway, we can���t really plan a wedding yet, not when we’re in the process of building a property for the Dupain-Cheng fashion house and hiring staff. And obviously we can’t just leave the moment we finish all that…”
“Yeah, yeah, busy busy, I get it, M.” Alya waved her hand impatiently. “You just better not elope on us or else me and Sabine are going to have to hunt you down. I didn’t endure all your mutual pining for over ten years just to get robbed at the last minute.”
Marinette giggled. “You don’t have to worry about that. Adrien has his heart set on a nice wedding, especially since I won’t let him splurge on a fancy ring.”
“Well, how else can I tell all of Paris that I love her?”
They all laughed, but as they took a few moments of companionable silence, Alya frowned. “Wait, the Dupain-Cheng fashion house? How is that going to work if you’re getting married?” She turned to Marinette. “Are you going to be keeping your last name?”
Before she could reply, Adrien nodded. “Yep! And I’ll be taking hers. Too much baggage with the Agreste name, you know?” He took a sip of his coffee. “All the more reason to get married sooner than later.” Silence reigned again, this one more introspective as everyone briefly remembered Hawkmoth’s long reign of terror and how it still touched their lives today.
Nino’s eyes widened and he scrambled to pick up his things. “Shoot, that reminds me. I’ve got training with old man Fu today.”
“Has he finally taught you any secret Guardian techniques yet? Anything you might be willing to pass off to a friend?” Adrien blinked innocently at him, laying on the charm thick.
“This isn’t one of your cheesy animes, dude. It’s mostly just recipes and taking care of old books.” Marinette heard him whisper in Adrien’s ear as he passed, “But if I find anything like that, you’re first on my list.”
“Thanks, man.” Adrien fist bumped his old friend and Nino left them alone.
Alya sighed. “I guess I’d better get back to research then. Paris certainly hasn’t gotten any less weird since I’ve gotten back.” They all stood and made their way out of the cafe.
Adrien dropped his voice to a whisper as they walked down the street. “Have you found any pattern to it, yet?”
“Centerfold, everything I’ve found I just passed to Marinette.” She shrugged. “With all that magic out there, stuff that’s been gone for centuries is coming back. It hasn’t been anything big yet, but… well, maybe all those legends weren’t just legends, you know? Just keep your eyes peeled and I’ll do my best to keep everyone updated.”
They said their goodbyes as Alya got on the bus, leaving just Adrien and Marinette alone. They walked in silence for a while. The crowds thinned around them as they found their way to less populated areas, eventually finding an abandoned alley. There, Adrien bowed deeply to her as he transformed into Chat Noir. He rose with a cocky grin on his face and stepped close to her as he pressed her against the wall. With one finger, he lifted her chin so she was looking up at him.
“What’s a sweet girl like you doing in a place like this?” She snorted and rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness, but there was a smirk on her face nonetheless. “What do you say I take you home with me, princess?” He kissed at her neck and it took all her will to continue pretending it was having no effect on her.
“Hm… I don’t know… Will there be delicious home cooked food there?”
He chuckled against her. “Give it an hour and there will be. The tastiest Italian pastas you’ve ever had.”
“Sold!” She surprised him by jumping onto him, causing him to scramble to catch her. “Take me away, you alley cat!”
He laughed. “As my lady commands!”
Chat Noir carried her in his arms and she basked in the cool evening air. Even after all this time, it was something that she had never grown tired of.
----------------------------
Once they were inside, Adrien dropped his transformation and gently set Marinette on the couch with a kiss. He cupped her face with a smile as he pulled back.
“Stay there while I make dinner.”
“Fine, but only because I’m curious about what Alya has found out.” Marinette pulled her laptop out from underneath the living room table, along with the USB from her purse.
Familiar complaints prompted him to shove some of the cheese that he was working with towards his hungry kwami. It was rare that a week went by without finding another shard, but they were handling it well. Four active heroes helped, especially since the need for secrecy among them was over. With Alya’s investigative skills and Marinette’s rapidly improving aura sensing skills, it was almost child’s play to track down the shards before things got out of hand. Add in Nino helping Master Fu with research between recording albums, and they were working like a well oiled machine.
Thoughts of strategy and duty fell by the wayside as he turned his attention back to the moment. The kitchen was larger than what Adrien had gotten used to working with. Sure, the one in his old house and the manor had probably been even bigger, but it was only at Marinette’s old apartment that he had truly hit his stride, cooking every day for his lovely lady. Sometimes it was a chore, but there was nothing more rewarding than seeing how Marinette’s eyes light up as he set a full plate down in front of her. He’d make dinner every day for the rest of their lives if it meant he got to see that look on her face.
Their living space was bigger than what they’d moved out of, but with how well the business was doing it was something they could reasonably afford. And that was with money going towards the fashion house - which Marinette still refused to let him use his savings on. He’d just have to make due with being the best model and spokesman for her fledgling brand that he possibly could be. Seeing her dreams come true was the least he could do for her, after everything she had done for him.
The house was nice, spacious enough for their purposes. But who knows? If things kept going the way they were going, maybe they’d need to upgrade again before too long.
Adrien stood in the kitchen and watched the back of her head as she poured over Alya’s hard earned research. A smile came to his face as he remembered all that they had gone through to get here - all the time spent apart, all the pain and sorrow, the twists and turns. It had all been worth it in the end, just to get to this moment. He felt like a fire had been rekindled inside both of them, driving them forward towards a bright future.
Here and now, they were happy.
35 notes ¡ View notes
ranthrewrising ¡ 7 years ago
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Hello Children
So over the year, I have been collecting quotes and sayings so I could pick one for my senior quote. Now that my senior year is near, I thought I would share. Enjoy mother fuckers "Oh good, peaches at a strip bar" "There are so many churches in this town because there are so many sinners" "I'd love to see Jesus, but I'm so hungry" "I got the picture, now let's go before we get shot" "I had a crush on a guy once, then another guy went and shot up his house. Good times" "The struggle is real bitches" "This is not a clothing optional class" - Mr.Buttner "don't let me school you on trap music." "Girl, I got more guns than Jesus" "yaaaasssss" - Mr.Buttner "I'm gonna unlike Mary though" Mr.Buttner "I can't even do dumbass chemistry" Grandeddy "Wait. You actually do work in this class?" "You can't put your problems In a tiny backpack" “You’re gonna die anyway, so just set your house on fire and drink snake venom. "Pay attention to John green" "Cow boys have always been in use, I know because I've used them" "God I love madonna" "From the womb to the tomb" "Put down im strong as a mofo". "Guess what, you have a father" "WABAM" -Buttner "*drops baby*"- Cathleen "Old age is for sissys" "375 bitches" "Why not sexy elbows" "The best part is when the black chick starts singing" "Brittney spears is my jam, toxic is my anthem" "Beer pong is an art" "So, there was a little caesers pizza on the side walk" "It's like nanny McPhee but with drinking" "He's driving through sheets getting cheese curds, he's so full of shit" "It takes two to procreate" "I am a snan if you will" "Screw the patriarchy" "Speaking of spicy, do you guys have any water" "Living with regret is a bitch" "I could do keg stands in a minute" "Those kids couldn't do shit. I drove my mustang off the dock of lochmere" "Settle down my toasted wheat thins" "Oh no ive been inconvinced" "I must call my family! *bird noise* " "If I get a concussion. I will find out where Greg lives and send him the bill" "Let's go sit on the apron *giddy laughter*" "If you don't give me this god damn candy corn, I will eat your hand" "Everyone had lumps and bumps" "Cool beans, beans of cool" -You are a fishmonger -Well, here is my leg -Take you me for a sponge, my lord? -Do you see yonder cloud that’s almost in the shape of a camel? -Eat my leek "Attack? More like give candy aggressively" "Oh yeah? I told you not to do something and you did it anyway? Go fuck your self" "There will be no furries in my household" "Shooty shoot shoot" LMM "Oh god there are things that are happening" "Well the thing is...I don't know" "Look lady, I was on pain meds. I don't even know what happened yesterday" "Are you just being a dick on purpose now ?" "For a second, I forgot what a leaf was" "I'm gonna punch her right in the tits" "This is some catastrophe shit" "Could y'all do me a favor and make a lot of noise to drive her crazy?" -Could you stand in front of my bus so I can run you over?" "I loved Spanish, of course I had a hot teacher. God she was smokin. Damn shame she married the gym teacher" "Pumpkin pie and jack Daniels, never again" "Of course this is a fashion show, everywhere I go is a fashion show" "Well that's just you showin that you're a racist bitch" "I had mace in highschool" "Imagine this, a hot room with sweaty contorsanists" "Hell run his smart ass mouth, and when he turns around,I'll stab him" "I....I don't even know" "And Jesus was like, boi, give this man a break" "They've been gone a long ass time my guy" "Those Scottish men are very angry" "The website said I was sexually frustrated, I am going to die a virgin, so I guess it's right" “What an ass am I!”
—Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2 “I am not a slut,”
—As You Like It, Act 3, Scene 3
(Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) “Hell is empty and all the devils are here,”
—The Tempest, Act 1, Scene 2 “Commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways,”
—Henry IV Part 2, Act 4, Scene 5 “This is the excellent foppery of the world,” –King Lear, Act 1, Scene 2 “Making the beast with two backs,”
—mOthello, Act 1, Scene 1 “The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool,”
—As You Like It, Act 5, Scene 1 “To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee,”
—Henry VI Part 3, Act 3, Scene 2
(Works great for courting hot widows.) “I would rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me,”
—Much Ado About Nothing, Act 1, Scene 1 “I wasted time, and now doth time waste me,”
—Richard II, Act 5, Scene 5 “Marry, sir, in her buttocks.”
—A Comedy of Errors, Act 2, Scene 5
(No judgement here.) “My horse is my mistress,”
—Henry V, Act 3, Scene 7
(Uh, there might be something wrong with that.) “Thou dost infect my eyes,”
—Richard III, Act 1, Scene 2 “Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit,”
—Twelfth Night, Act 1, Scene 5
(“Wit” is Shakespearean slang for penis.) “[Wine] provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance,”
—Macbeth, Act 2, Scene 3 “I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill, far, than feed on cates and have him talk to me in any summer-house in Christendom,”
—Henry IV Part 2, Act 4 Scene 1 “Now, gods, stand up for bastards!”
—King Lear, Act 1, Scene 2 “Villain, I have done thy mother!”
—Titus Andronicus, Act 4, Scene 2
(This means exactly what you think it does.) “And thou unfit for any place but hell,”
—Richard III, Act 1, Scene 2 “The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers,”
—Henry VI Part 2, Act 4, Scene 2 “Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.”
—Othello, Act 4, Scene 2 “Out, dunghill!”
—King John, Act 4, Scene 3 “This is too long.”
—Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2 "That's the same guy, he's just on a different corner. *like a hooker* he's selling bonsai, not bushes" "Team thucc for the win" "no hoochie mamas on the field" "God can't help you now" "Jesus used the vostros" "Don't bring a gun to a knife fight" “Suck my dick Confucius, because you have been declined bitch.” "He's 18 years old, that's illegal" "What's a vise? Oh the clampy thing" "You can go to a website called suck it.com" "I'm throwing fire and grabbing titties" "He kept coming like an asshole" "Us being the white people in there" "I am not a smart man" "frank sinatra is a cryptid and he gave me a blow job behind an applebees" "Which one is the salad fork and which one is the one I kill myself with" "Sometimes, I have an urge to stab people who pass the ball right to the goalies stick" "Shooting high to high makes me want to kick puppies" "I stabbed a kid in the neck with a pencil when I was 11, so I'm not afraid to stab you when you shoot high to high" "Smoke god, pray to weed, and respect women, Solomon 4:20" "I'm Mary fricken poppins!" "That happened 31 years ago, you need to let it go" "The oldest wasn't any help, she would sneak out at 2 in the morning to go horse riding" "He never called me by my name, it was either slick or the n word" "Mothman is real and he offered me cocaine in a dimly lit jc penny’s" "Aw no honey, you need to try all types of flavors"-my mother on dating "Who said just said daddy, get out" "If you ain't eat at a hooters, then you ain't shit" "I want it all" -cobra command "Luckily, im a messy bitch who loves drama"- Shea coulee "Let's change shit up!" Sasha Valour "Change the motherfucking world" Sasha Valour "Oh my god, he's gonna shit his pants" "Impress them with your lovemaking, then impress them with your lawmaking" "I have some bad news, but before I tell you, keep in mind that the wright bros could only stay airborne for 12 seconds" "-you blew it -super hard -complete buffoonery" "...tampons, what the hell is that? A wad of dry fucking cotton stuffed up there?" "Benedict Cumberbatch, who the fuck is that?"
19 notes ¡ View notes
oliveratlanta ¡ 5 years ago
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101 things to love about Atlanta
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A love letter to a city of many nicknames—just don’t call it Hotlanta
Unlike other American metropolises, it’s sometimes hard to determine exactly what Atlanta is, especially for outsiders or so many newcomers. Is it a business-friendly, big-hearted, mild-weather region that’s six times more populated than it was 50 years ago? Yes, Atlanta is that. A cradle for some of the most influential music—particularly hip-hop and rap—of the past three decades? Yep, that too. A burgeoning foodie wonderland? A southeastern mecca for the production of television and Hollywood blockbusters? A pastiche of gloriously unique, provincial villages masquerading as official neighborhoods? A cultural frontrunner and cautionary tale? Global magnet of opportunity? Still kind of a mess—but lovably so?
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, and that’s right, y’all.
So maybe that’s what’s special about Atlanta: It’s not yet finished, and never one-note. Rather, it’s a Brunswick stew of varying allures. It’s amorphous, restless, unwed to the past, intoxicated by its own prospects. Very little is sacred here but change, and instigators are more than welcome. Atlanta doesn’t know what it is yet, or exactly where it’s going, but it’s having a damn good time getting there. Let’s celebrate what’s great here, right now.
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1. Inclusivity. The economic and cultural heart of the Deep South isn’t just accustomed to being diverse, it’s proud of it. See virtually any public gathering place intown for proof that humanity can peacefully coexist—and that Atlanta still has better things to do than hate.
2. Sky-high architecture. From the emerald towers of Sandy Springs’s King and Queen to the Georgia Pacific Tower’s illuminated stairsteps, the skyline is among America’s most underappreciated, especially at night. It’s not contiguous yet, with large gaps between poky clusters from most angles, but it’s distinctive and bold. And oh how it glows.
3. Easy-breezy climes. Sure, summer’s hotter’n’ Hades. But there’s Christmas shopping in flip-flops (sometimes), T-shirt weekends in January (occasionally), and bloomy early February (without fail).
4. After Hours at Waffle House: The 20-minute wait at 3:17 a.m. is plenty of time for random singing with other scatterbrained, post-bar strangers in line.
5. The prevalence of nature. Cicadas. And barn owls. Talking. At night. Among the giant urban oaks, in July.
6. Festival-a-palooza. Neighborhoods across the city have unbridled, borderline incomprehensible enthusiasm for getting together. Random gatherings invented on Facebook (looking at you, Lanta Gras) have ballooned into huge annual traditions with street closures and parades.
7. Bezos who? Amazon didn’t choose Atlanta, and Atlanta cared for five minutes.
8. It’s almost never hard to find a seat on public transit.
9. Kid-friendly. Little children growing up in Atlanta tend to think it’s amazing. That’s an impression bolstered by innumerable playgrounds and ubiquitous King of Pops, those delectable, homegrown frozen staples.
10. Random celebrity encounters. Like that time when André 3000 was shopping alone at the DeKalb Farmers Market, sans entourage, near the seafood section, all cool in his army jacket despite the July swelter and crush of onlookers, not too busy or highfalutin to shake everybody’s hand.
11. Yes, $100,000-something condos are prevalent—still—in desirable places across Atlanta. Many aren’t shoeboxes, either. And some count incredible views, particularly of central Midtown or downtown’s oldest streets.
12. Tech hub. Because Georgia Tech is a factory of coveted IT brainpower that’s more essential to the city’s business climate each year.
13. Westside escape. With its bridges, creekside vistas, and smooth, snaking pavement, the Proctor Creek Greenway trail is already otherworldly, in the best, most bucolic way. And it’s just a fraction of what it stands to be in coming years.
14. Long live the Clermont. A few years ago, neighbors were preparing to fight to save a local strip club from its new owners. It was a false alarm—the new owners view the Clermont as an asset. But that’s Atlanta.
15. Where it’s greater. With its transit connectivity, celebrated food scene, walkability, and perennial ranking as Georgia’s best place to live, Decatur gets it.
16. World’s busiest hub. With flights seemingly every minute from early morning until the wee night-time hours, the Atlanta airport is a stressful but handy launchpad of convenience, with a ridiculous wealth of nonstop flights to basically everywhere (hello, Dubai and Johannesburg). We’ll forgive a MARTA train derailment, that famous power outage, and perpetual TSA clogs.
17. Expats welcome. Because almost nobody on your street is actually from Atlanta, and that’s so normal it usually doesn’t even register. A common greeting for new neighbors: “So, where ya from?”
18. Can’t-miss Cascade. Especially in autumn, SW ATL’s Cascade Springs Nature Preserve offers ITP serenity to the fullest. Meander through 120 acres of trails, climb Civil War-era ruins, hop across a waterfall’s rocks. It’ll make even the most overstressed office dweller feel something akin to childhood awe.
19. Walkability. It’s getting vastly… better, in many places, from densifying EAV to the growing shopping avenues of central Buckhead. It’s happening, albeit slowly.
20. But... Atlanta’s still a major city where driving conveniences are largely possible, and lugging groceries on trains and such isn’t always an everyday hassle. Rush hours, however, are always plural, and Saturday traffic is, unfortunately, no joke anymore.
21. Trees of green. Friends flying in for the first time might say, “All I saw were trees—and then we landed.” A high compliment.
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Curbed Atlanta
Atlanta’s canopy with the Buckhead business district at left, and Midtown/downtown at right.
22. Playspace. The restored, climbable treasure that is Noguchi Playscapes, the famed landscape architect’s work in Piedmont Park, was the only U.S. playground he completed in his lifetime.
23. Bungalows. The quintessential intown homes. Built to last, forever in vogue, and usually affixed with that most Atlanta of residential features: the generous porch.
24. Bearings Bike Shop. The community-focused nonprofit is teaching kids the value of hard work, the joy of exercise, and the viability of traversing a car-crazed city on two wheels.
25. Late-night stalwart. MJQ is a longstanding and culturally important club that welcomes anybody and everybody down into the rollicking, subterranean bowels of a former blues club. Chicago House in one room, a Whitney Houston singalong in the next.
26. Adios, Bravos. The pro baseball team left town for the monied ’burbs—and might very well have done Atlanta a favor (unless you operated front-yard parking lots). Nearby Georgia Avenue’s rebirth could show how large-scale adaptive reuse, married with new construction, can be a smartly executed replacement for storefront vacancies and so much stadium asphalt. Changes of this magnitude don’t come without gentrification fears, of course. But rows of beautiful, vacant old buildings—which could’ve doubled as a post-apocalyptic Main Street before, but are under renovation now—were doing Atlanta no favors.
27. The mother of all porch parties. Three cheers for the grassroots explosion of Oakhurst Porchfest. Founded in 2015, the autumn musical extravaganza counts 200-plus acts now, performing wherever volunteers offer their porches as stages. It’s community unification through music at its finest.
28. High Museum. The Southeast’s preeminent showcase for contemporary and classical art, housed in buildings designed by Renzo Piano and Richard Meier, is free for locals on the second Sunday of each month. How’s that for accessibility?
29. Viewrific, Part I. The approach from Douglasville on Interstate 20, over that hill, in fading evening light, the Land of Oz.
30. One of television’s best shows needed no other name than our city’s.
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31. Georgia Aquarium’s bucket-list essential. For about the price of a car tire, you can swim with whale sharks downtown. And if you’re lucky, they’ll inadvertently bump you, with all the gentle power of a city bus in slow motion.
32. Curated graffiti. Running along the northern borders of Cabbagetown and Reynoldstown, Wylie Street is an ever-changing urban museum of eye-popping street murals, with a dash of biting social commentary.
33. Atlanta is where misfit street characters become local legends. Here’s looking at you, Baton Bob. And where art thou, Bicycle Shorts Man?
34. The Dungeon house in Lakewood Heights. Birthplace of OutKast, it was recently purchased by Big Boi. Hootie Hoo!
35. The Atlanta Beltline. Despite affordability challenges directly caused by the now-famous Beltline, the popular segments are socially magical, unifying things—Atlanta’s boardwalk, the Little Peachtree—and it’s barely reached adolescence at this point. Maybe one day, instead of sprawl and traffic, a mention of Atlanta anywhere in the world will conjure images of this mythical green loop. All dreamed up by a local college kid.
36. Sylvan Hills. The historic nabe between downtown and the airport is the prettiest neighborhood that half of Atlanta’s never heard of.
37. Scooter culture. Having spawned across the city in a year, the vehicles can be annoying, unsightly, and even dangerous for pedestrians and bicyclists. But the two-wheel zeitgeist beats all those lawbreaking riders driving alone in 4,000-pound street cloggers, right?
38. Raising the bar. Rooftop restaurants and bars have multiplied tenfold (roughly) in recent years, highlighted by Ponce City Market’s vintage amusement park in the sky and Hotel Clermont’s unpretentious new hang. About time.
39. Our iconic downtown library is by Marcel Breuer, someone cooler than Carnegie.
40. Path Force. The Beltline’s roving, specialized, applaudable police squad is consistently effective. Despite millions of visitors to the trails, the number of annual crime incidents can sometimes be counted on one hand.
41. John Portman. The late architect’s simple idea born in downtown Atlanta—the inner high-rise atrium, designed to cheaply cool low-income buildings—revolutionized hotel design around the world.
42. A growing legacy of rather badass sports statues. There’s Hank Aaron swinging through his record homer, shredded Evander Holyfield (currently MIA), sculptural Olympics remnants, Dominique Wilkins in mid-dunk, and that incredible Falcons sculpture.
43. Viewrific, Part II. The downtown skyline from that stoplight, facing west, where Freedom Parkway meets Boulevard. It’s the famed Jackson Street Bridge vantage point, immortalized in The Walking Dead Season 1 poster, panned out.
44. Park potential. Bellwood Quarry’s green space initiative could finally bring that side of town the Piedmont Park it deserves.
45. Commercial survivors. Poncey-Highland throwback DVD rental spot Videodrome and dive-bar stalwart Righteous Room are here to stay forever! Probably.
46. Road trips galore. From Atlanta, there’s a wealth of geographically and culturally diverse long-weekend options in all directions. Asheville, Savannah, the Gulf Coast, Charleston, Blue Ridge, Jekyll Island, Nashville, Charlotte, and the list goes on. Leave at lunch on Friday and reach them all by happy hour.
47. Church Bar on Edgewood. Before it was a tourist destination, the beloved Edgewood Avenue watering hole was just an unholy alliance of irreverent art, ping-pong, sangria, and a male former church deacon named Sister Louisa.
48. Atlanta United. In just its third year now, the club has scored a Major League Soccer championship and global headlines that declare this city, for once, an exemplar of fandom.
49. They don’t make ’em like Whittier Mill Village anymore. The semi-secret old cotton mill community includes 1800s homes, beautiful ruins, and Buckhead schools.
50. We took Snowpocalypse jokes—and are still taking them—in stride. Two inches of daytime snow paralyzed a major city, but hey, we made the front page of the New York Times! And inspired the creation of an SNL Weekend Update character called Buford Calloway, a “survivor.”
51. Lemony pepper wings. Order dry, with a little tub of hot sauce on the side. Graze the wing across blue cheese, and then dunk in the sauce. Bite big. And behold caloric Eden.
52. Bank of America Plaza. The world’s largest cigarette just happens to be the Southeast’s tallest building—and the ATL’s Eiffel Tower. (Sorry, Big Chicken.)
53. Purposeful art. With poignant murals, impressive permanent pieces, and a civil rights installation series where historical events actually happened, the Beltline’s Westside Trail artwork is stepping up the game. Ditto for the Eastside’s series, and William Massey’s awe-inspiring pieces made of garbage found on streets.
54. Viewrific, Part III. Sure, the ginormous chiseled Confederates are awkward at best, and embarrassing at worst. But evenings and sunrises atop Stone Mountain are religious experiences (literally, every Easter, with church services). Up there, find unparalleled vistas of so much rippling green, cast pink, with the glint of skyscrapers in the middle distance.
55. Adair Park. Blight and disinvestment didn’t diminish the beautiful old bones of this historic place.
56. The Atlanta Tech Village in Buckhead is the real deal. A tech hub that’s spawned big local companies—and a lot of cushy salaries.
57. Car-free lifestyles no longer seem crazy. Alternate transportation commuters are becoming more prevalent by the year—and proving that living without a car (gasp!) is possible in Atlanta. (See: the saddlebags and backpacks accessorizing business attire along the Freedom Park PATH Trail during weekday rush hours.)
58. No shortage of swingin’ highrise pools. It’s like a subculture unto itself, from late April to September.
59. We have the Southeast’s largest burial ground, and it’s beautiful. More than 100,000 people have been laid to eternal rest across Westview Cemetery’s 600 acres, which is centered around a gorgeously ornate mausoleum and chapel.
60. Lest we forget Oakland Cemetery. Atlanta’s oldest public green space is a historical, durable, accessible intown treasure that really knows how to party. For proof, see the long-running, multistage Tunes From the Tombs festival.
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61. The National Center for Civil and Human Rights is > the NASCAR Museum that Atlanta “lost” to Charlotte.
62. Pittsburgh Yards. This southside Beltline redevelopment is centered on the creation of jobs in underserved places—instead of $3,000 apartments and $13.50 bespoke kale bowls—and it could be a game changer.
63. Buckhead’s tallest building, the Sovereign tower, still stands out, architecturally. And it could soon have a big blue modernist sibling.
64. Venturing OTP won’t actually kill you. Resurrected and richly historic downtowns are in abundance in the Atlanta suburbs. Like, everywhere. Find a half-dozen worthwhile day-trip destinations in Gwinnett alone.
65. The Atlanta splash pad, a social oasis and absolute godsend. And even better: More splash pads are in the works, from Vine City (definitely) to Chosewood Park (probably) and Kirkwood (maybe). About damn time, say toddlers across Atlanta.
66. Queer culture is thriving. That’s epitomized by Atlanta Pride, which is more massive than ever after almost 50 years (and now family-friendly, for better or worse).
67. English Avenue’s Mattie Freeland Park. Founded and controlled by neighbors, the tiny green space is a shining example of small but vital civic strides in historically troubled places.
68. The Chattahoochee River. A revived and unspoiled (if underused) resource for every season.
69. Insert here: A non-cheesy, non-obvious, pithy ode to the Varsity, that legendary fast-food drive-in—still the world’s largest after 90 years. Don’t mention “What’ll ya have?” Ah, never mind.
70. Music Midtown. For all its faults (overcrowding, lawn damage, neighbor inconvenience, lineups geared toward teens), the reborn multistage extravaganza is a dynamic and diverse musical showcase every September. Walk barefoot across lush Bermuda and dance like only 75,000 people are watching.
71. Ted Turner’s legacy. The media maverick and early Atlanta believer has been called an inspiration by people as disparate as Ted Koppel and Killer Mike.
72. The reinvigorated cyclorama. Once bedraggled, the restored cyclorama—one of America’s largest historical artifacts—is now in good hands, presented in a state-of-the-art showcase at the Atlanta History Center. That’s where it’ll be until infants of today are septuagenarians. At least.
73. Almost every Atlantan has some tale about the cast or production of The Hunger Games, The Walking Dead, Stranger Things, Baby Driver, etc. And hundreds of us have rented our homes for movie and TV shoots. Cha-ching.
74. Atlanta Streets Alive. The occasional street-closure sensation (with attendance routinely north of 120,000) illustrates a dream scenario, in terms of biking/pedestrian infrastructure and how cities of the future could yield to people over automobiles.
75. Inspiring architecture—seriously. In a few too-rare cases, large-scale design is getting quite interesting. Find several forthcoming examples on Howell Mill Road alone. And approach the Jenga-d facade of Midtown’s new lilli tower from any angle at twilight.
76. The Beltline’s Northside Trail. It’s a tucked-away, leafy, unsung jewel—with a rail bridge underpass that could stand as a top Beltline highlight forever.
77. Relaxed ganja laws in the City of Atlanta. Anyone caught with a bag of pot in the city can face—worst case—a $75 fine now. But even that’s left to the officer’s discretion. And judging by the pungent wafts from innumerable cars and so many porches, the memo on that was widely read among intowners.
78. The Goat Farm! Westside ruins turned artist hive. Now don’t let redevelopment gut its inimitable soul!
79. Where the expressions “Y’all!” and “Yo!” coexist harmoniously—and sometimes come from the same mouth.
80. Inman Park Festival. A late-April tradition for almost half a century, this fest is Atlanta’s greatest neighborhood showcase. It’s proof that even prestigious places need not take themselves too seriously.
81. These directions make sense in Atlanta-ese: “Head up the Connector, around the Grady Curve, beyond the Brookwood Split, past Spaghetti Junction, barely OTP, and then…”
82. Record shops keep it spinning. From the hippest gritty neighborhoods to the far-flung ’burbs, ATL vinyl is alive and well.
83. The original Lantern Parade. A luminous Atlanta Beltline tradition—now 70,000 strong—unlike any other.
84. Moonlight drives. The city’s nonsensical roadway design actually makes for more interesting (if impractical) drives, once you know where the hell you’re going. For a test run, take Ponce from the Majestic Diner to Decatur, late at night, windows down.
85. Because the Atlanta Hawks stayed put, right in the city’s heart. And now they’re trending like the team of the future.
86. Ansley Park. With its dizzying array of residential masterworks and unique country-club-under-skyscrapers vibe, this is aspirational living done right. Leafy and hilly at every turn, the neighborhood’s bounty of walkable green space options is almost unfair.
87. Those wondrous, weird accumulations of snow. About six times per decade, there’s a legit, if short-lived, snowfall. Added bonus: The city’s streets and parks are perfectly angled for sledding, for those rare Atlantans who actually own sleds or don’t mind embarrassing themselves on greased cookie sheets.
88. Midtown’s unyielding boom. Crane-watching (and counting) has become a pastime in Midtown. It’s the epicenter of intown’s metamorphosis, where soul-sucking surface parking lots go to die.
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Curbed Atlanta
Midtown in summertime, as seen over Piedmont Park.
89. The “Atlanta’s Population Now” sign on Peachtree Road. Long a source of pride and bewilderment for this once modestly sized Southern town, the electronic metro population counter in front of the Darlington Apartments is climbing ever closer to 7 million. Fun fact: It was installed by a young billboard mogul named Ted Turner in the 1960s, when the metro’s population was about 1.1 million.
90. The potential of South Downtown. For far too long, Atlanta’s oldest, most captivatingly vintage streets have been forsaken by most investors, residents, visitors, and anyone else not headed to Magic City, a Falcons game, or the Gold Dome. Whether the trifecta of ambitious plans for the Gulch, Underground Atlanta, and Newport’s extensive portfolio can spring the district to greatness remains to be seen.
91. Castleberry Hill. Atlanta’s epicenter of authentic loft living and bohemian art galleries is also cool enough for a 2 Chainz restaurant.
92. The food. It ain’t all pulled pork, buttermilk chicken, and Frosty Oranges ’round here anymore. From Buford Highway’s international fare to Decatur’s award-winning menus and classic eateries like Busy Bee Cafe, you could live in Atlanta a decade and not sample all its eclectic deliciousness. “This year cemented the Capital City of the South’s status as a culinary force,” wrote Zagat in 2017, declaring the ATL the nation’s ninth “most exciting” food city.
93. Pre-dogwood hoopla. A sunny March weekend in Piedmont Park is like a city festival organized by the citizenry, with plenty of flying frisbees and open-container good vibes.
94. Palm trees. So what if they’re not native to Atlanta? Neither are you (probably). Some varieties really thrive here, punctuating front yards and restaurant landscapes in these subtropical climes.
95. The Fabulous Fox. It’s the site of Prince’s final concert and, when the wrecking ball loomed, legendary 1970s preservation efforts led by bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd. The glittering Fox Theatre is an Atlanta showplace like no other.
96. Viewrific, Finale. Southbound on Peachtree Road, just past Jesus Junction, that downhill vantage point captures something like a scene from the movie Metropolis, only framed by towering pines.
97. Pollen preparedness. A real downside of Atlanta’s otherwise glorious, floral springs are the swirling particles so thick they turn black cars yellow. Or streets into yellow-tinged rivers when it rains. Luckily, ATLiens aren’t fazed, popping non-drowsy Claritin, minding pollen counts on the news, or—in some cases—strapping on SARS-style masks.
98. Local beer. Suddenly, it’s everywhere! A hundred varieties not named SweetWater.
99. That being said… a frosty glass, a SweetWater 420 on draft, a Saturday afternoon in May, counting passersby from a lively patio bar, and somebody, somewhere, just started strumming an acoustic guitar.
100. We’re not “Marthasville,” thank God. (One of this settlement’s original names.)
101. Still welcoming after all these damn carpetbaggers.
source https://atlanta.curbed.com/2019/5/29/18629884/reasons-to-love-atlanta
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fleabite531 ¡ 8 years ago
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JVP Netanyahu demo and Official New Friend
Wednesday. Chilled day with Y. He was working from home. I was lazing about and got snuggles during his breaks. Then I headed into SF for Jewish Voice for Peace (JVP) demo protesting Trump’s meeting that day with Netanyahu and their shared values of racism, wall-building and hate-mongering. Was cool to be with other Jewish progressives, though a little disappointed there was only about 40-50 there. It was a 2 hour demo and I was only there for last bit so there might have been more attending in total as folks were coming and going. I liked the connection between zionism and to USA rhetoric and policies on migration and borders, which was expressed in chants and handmade placards.
After the demo a couple of Bay Area friends I had originally connected with from Gaza (from my trip in 2003) met me and I really enjoyed how easy and grounded in affection these relationships are. Partly I think it might be that usa (partic west coast?) culture is more emotionally demonstrative anyway, so i might just be experiencing that and feeling it as “ooo these people like me, its safe for me to open up to them too”. But regardless I’m starting to really value these other reasons for being in bay area besides Y, and this works well as both Y and I like spending time with other people too when we’re together.
I had this waffle/diner food craving, and as this was my last opportunity for it for a while, we headed to Mel’s. Mel’s is both fun, and cliched/OTT, but I’m a tourist and I kinda enjoy the OTT so I love sitting in a Happy Days set! We even used the booth side jukebox! Excitingly someone joined us who I’ve only before met with when I’ve been also meeting her partner who is an old friend of mine. We both agreed that meeting without him made us now Official Friends. She was also excited to be in SF itself, as she does the common Easy Bay resident thing of hardly ever coming over into the city.
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Waffley goodness. And hell yes did I add the extra butter as well as the warmed maple syrup!
Official Friends! And both excited by our food!
Y joined us, and then a bit later New Official Friend, Y and I decided to go for Mexican food in the Mission – hey its my last night! I’m totes allowed 2 suppers! Then we went for a wander and ended up at the top of Dolores Park enjoying the view over the city before grabbing Indian deserts on our way to the last BART back to the East Bay. For I still needed to pack and then get up at 6am for my flight home!
Bus ticket drama
At SFO I was probably over excited by the TSA dog – so cute, though it looked pretty skinny. Luckily the excitement was not reciprocated so I got through security uneventfully, though the same was not true about getting from Edinburgh airport back to Glasgow…
So I’d managed to lose my purse containing my return bus ticket and debit card at Reykjavik airport on the way out. Pop quiz: a) I did the responsible thing and phoned lost property about it as soon as i realised, or b) I procrastinated making the scary phone call and then decided I’d just see them when I transited on my way back home only to find out that the lost property office was only open at 8:30am, was after my 4am-7am transit time? Ooops! Of course I had a chain of backup plans in case my purse wasn’t even in the airport:
1) pick up return bus ticket with bank card in iceland. 2) use debit card stored in chrome to buy bus ticket online and choose sms ticket option 3) use Y’s credit card to buy bus ticket online 4) convert $20 at edin airport (and take on chin the double commission whammy of both converting a small amount and an airport booth – I just need £11:60 for the bus ticket…) 5) once am in uk and time is more respectable (i landed 9am) start calling round friends to either buy me a bus ticket online / rescue me from airport 6) hitchhike – lots of Glasgow folks use Edinburgh airport and I was due to land at peak time (9am)
Ok, fine, so I couldn’t get my bus ticket or debit card… i just drop to option 2. After all I’ve used my card online so often I never even have to look at the CVC anymore. It turns out that my memory of that 3 digits is perfect unless its 5am and I’m on dodgy airport wifi with no way to just look at the back of the goddamned card! Fine, I’ll use Y’s credit card – he’d given me one that was about to expire anyway in case options 1 or 2 fell through. Except it turns out the citylink website doesn’t accept non uk billing addresses. Argh! More time passes and I’m like, bugger this, I need coffee[0] and then realised i could get citylink tickets on megabus website too. So off I go but now I’m struggling with the verified by visa password and Y is busy.
However the coffee was def working – some more googling and it turns out you can buy bus tickets at edinburgh airport’s tourist information booth! They’re bound to accept card payments, and Y’s given me his pin so i’m sorted! There are buses at 9:30 and 10:00 and I’m desperate to just get to my own bed by this time.
[09:00] Luckily our flight lands a bit early and I race through immigration and to the booth (in post coffee alertness at Reykjavik I’d pre-memorised the route from the online airport map)
[09:15] Possibly over sharing I tell the v friendly “welcome to scotland” person that i’ve just arrived back from travel abroad and so don’t have cash yet and so want to buy the bus ticket using my credit card and am hoping to make the 09:30 bus. She says she’s going to make sure she can give me the ticket before taking my money and then has to boot the computer an go through the complex online system. “I don’t think we have to waste time filling in your phone number and email address. I’ll just tick that you refused to give them to me”
[09:18] The printer is jammed and after several minutes she gives up trying to fix the feed and goes to another machine which thank the universe spits out the ticket.
[09:23] I put Y’s credit card into their card reader, but instead of asking for the pin, it says “payment accepted. signature required” and directs me to remove the card. So she prints the receipt and asks me to sign it. I squiggle “Praveen Kumar”[1] and hand it back.
[09:24] She flicks over the card (d’oh! of course she was going to do that! i’d forgotten that was even a thing. when was last time you signed for a card payment???) and the signature panel is blank… “Do you have any other ID with you?” Me, feigning calmness but running lateness “Oh no, I don’t have an other ID with me!”
Lets recap : 1) I’ve told her I’ve just landed off an international flight. 2) As far as she’s concerned she’s addressing a white female with an English accent. 3) The card is for an American bank with an Indian male name.
“Well I think you’ve been kept waiting long enough trying to get it printed. Turn right and then right again to get to the bus stop”
I LOVE BEING BACK IN SCOTLAND!!!! And I am very appreciative that I have bucketloads of white privilege which I am benefitting from – doubt this would have been so easy had Praveen Kumar been trying to use a card with a white chick’s name on :(
Friday – Spontaneous outing to The Lost Boys at amusement park
I arrived home at about 11am. Obviously first thing I did was put the kettle on. Ah tea, now things seem more reasonable. Ok, so I’ve had maybe 6 hours sleep since Wednesday, and I should probably change my clothes, but all I need to do today is stay awake til 8ish, go to the bank to get cash out across the counter, and get a few groceries in for the weekend. Then I’ll sleep like a baby and wake up some time tomorrow, go to the LGBTQ boxing club, and my timezone should be all fixed ready for 12 hour shift on Sunday. By 4:30pm I’ve done bank and shop chores and have cash and am planning a quiet evening and then sleeeeeeeep.
And then, this being Glasgow, a friend invites me to a Glasgow Film Festival screening of The Lost Boys in a secret location, buses leaving from the GFT in 90 mins. So much for the early night plan! Accompanied by motorbikes revelling as they rev their engines to full blast we are transported to M&Ds amusement park. We bump into another friend and play on the rides opened up specially for the occasion, the park packed with excited adults in vampire/hunter dress-up squirting holy-water-pistols at each other on the big wheel and maximal audience participation through a favourite teenage movie. Much glee!
Walking home from the bus, much sleep deprived but very content with how lucky I am to come back to Glasgow, where being “cool” means showing your exuberance, participating to the max. Not sneering, but rather thrilling at and cheering on others’ dorkiness and throwing themselves into the spirit of whatever hijinks is going on.
    eg from http://www.medizeninc.com/index.php/menu/
[0] food and drink seems to feature a lot in today’s blog… To add more, as wow air doesn’t give any food on the flight I’d packed another really good picnic; hard boiled eggs, oranges, humus and veg wrap (didn’t taste good on the flight though – i know taste buds are supposed to be different on flights), smoked tofu and jerky. This time didn’t have the conveniently under 100mls water-tight containers i had last time, and the liquor store seemed confused about why i’d want a *small* bottle of alcohol (merkans and their super-sizing!) so decided to buy booze in duty-free as obvs you can carry that onto the plane. Except then I realised once aboard that i wasn’t sure if i’d be allowed to carry it onto my second flight if i took it out of the heat sealed duty free bag and opened it. so i relied on snoozing and copious pre downloaded star trek to get me through instead. I’d turned down a pal’s offer of a “medicated” jelly bean which given the TSA doggie (such cute eyes!) was lucky!
[1] Name changed to another Indian male name for privacy reasons.
Homecoming – Last day in SF bay area (JVP netanyahu demo, and /official/ new friend). Bus ticket drama. Glasgow returning – spontaneous outing to The Lost Boys at amusement park. JVP Netanyahu demo and Official New Friend Wednesday. Chilled day with Y. He was working from home.
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russellthornton ¡ 8 years ago
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How to Start a Conversation with a Guy: 20 First Moves that Work
You’ve eyed him for the past year but haven’t made it past the drooling phase. Use these tips on how to start a conversation with a guy and amp it up.
We always expect men to be the ones to approach us. Have you ever approached someone of the opposite sex? It’s intimidating and nerve wracking. I mean, imagine how it is for them, where it’s expected of them. But if you’re tired of waiting for him to make the move, you should know how to start a conversation with a guy.
How to start a conversation with a guy
I know. I know. You’re scared of rejection. Listen, if you don’t try, you don’t know. And maybe he’s into you, but he’s too scared to approach you. You don’t know what’s going on in his mind. Don’t know how to start the conversation? Don’t worry, I have some tricks up my sleeve for you to try out.
They’re not gods, ladies, so don’t be nervous.
#1 It’s all in the eyes. Sometimes, guys just need a sign that you’re interested. This doesn’t mean you wave at him belligerently. It can be simple eye contact with a smile.
It’s the easiest way to start a conversation with him, without making the initial approach. You gave him the cue. Now, it’s his choice if he wants to move forward. [Read: The all-in-one woman’s guide to making eye contact with men]
#2 Classic accidental bump. I did this once, it didn’t work because the guy was an arrogant ass, but, I have seen it turn out successfully. Whether you’re in class or walking your dog, you “accidentally” bump into him. Of course, you say sorry and smile. Giving him the opportunity to comment. That’s when you start the conversation.
#3 Ask for help. Got lost? Sure, you live the next block over, but you’re not very familiar with the area… right? Plus, don’t ask me why, but when you ask a man for help, they feel inclined to help you. It’s an ego thing.
So, he may actually walk you to where you need to be or show you on the map. Point is, the more time spent together, the likelier you two start a conversation. [Read: Damsel in distress – Why men find them so irresistible]
#4 Don’t I know you from somewhere? Ah yes, the classic “you look so familiar” line. This is a great way to start a conversation as you two spend minutes listing and naming off people and places that you go to. You can easily develop a conversation based off any of the people or places he says. See? Easy. [Read: 15 easy conversation starters with a guy you like]
#5 Have the time? Make sure you’re not wearing a watch or have your phone glued to your hand before trying this one out. But it works to break the ice. But, you have to be creative in the line after, as once he tells you the time, you have to keep it going. But hopefully, he clues in and does that part himself.
#6 Work off your mutual friends. Do you actually recognize him? Is he a friend of a friend? Then why not start the conversation asking him this. It’s a great way to break the ice. Plus, if he’s interested in you, he knows who your mutual friend is. Maybe he’ll show up to more parties, knowing that you’re going.
#7 Technological fail. Oh gosh, I guess you didn’t charge your phone last night and now it’s dead. How ever will you call your mom? Well, that’s when he comes in. Tell him your phone died and ask if you can make a quick call. Most likely, he says yes and there you go, the ice has been broken.
#8 Social media is your friend. Social media is the easiest method if you want to try to start a conversation with someone. They post a picture or status and bam! That’s your material. You send them a message or talk to them in person about the funny status they wrote or the picture of them with their grandma. [Read: How to flirt with a guy over text – 11 sexy steps that work]
#9 Is this seat taken? You can be in class, on the bus, at the doctor’s office—ask him if the seat beside him is taken. Once seated, say thank you or add a small comment and see if he reacts. If he’s interested, he’ll start chatting away.
#10 Must love dogs. You cannot fail at having a conversation about someone’s dog. This works for everyone. If you see a guy walking his dog, don’t feel shy to stop and ask to pet it. Then you have a million different conversation starters to use. What’s the name of his pet, how old, what breed, etc.
#11 Ask about the music. If you’re at a coffee shop or bar, easily start a conversation about the song that’s currently playing. It’s a pretty safe way of starting a conversation. I mean, he’s not going to ignore your question.
#12 What’s he reading? Maybe he’s on the bus or at the airport and he’s just hanging out, reading a book. Wait for him to look up and then ask him what book he’s reading. If you know the author, you can mention another book and compare it. It’s a great way to show your similar interests. [Read: 20 signs of attraction in the first conversation]
#13 What’s the score? If you’re at a pub and the game’s on, ask him what the score is. Make sure it’s a sport you’re semi-interested in or else you may have to sit to him rambling on about offense and defense. But from there, you can talk about who your teams are, etc.
#14 Dance! This is only if you’re at a club or house party. You can dance next to him or grab his hands playfully. It’s a great way to show your playful side, and he’ll find you charming. From there, after the song ends, you can ask him his name, etc.
#15 Compliment him. I know this may sound weird to you, but don’t be shy to let him know that you like his shirt or his hair. Everyone likes to be complimented, so why not use that as a way to talk to him. [Read: Clever ways to get a guy’s attention in any circumstance]
#16 Airport chatter. Wondering how to start a conversation with a guy when you’re traveling? If you’re on a train, bus, or plane, just ask him where he’s going. Make sure he looks like he’s not heading to the office. If he looks like he’s traveling, comment on it. You two can exchange travel stories and maybe even contact information, right?
#17 You look like… Playing the “you look like this celebrity” isn’t a bad way to start a conversation. You just need to make sure that the celebrity is attractive. Don’t go overboard and say he looks like Brad Pitt when clearly he doesn’t.
#18 The weather. Are you sweating from the heat wave that just hit your town? I know it sounds lame, but the weather is a great excuse to talk to someone. Maybe it’s raining and you don’t have an umbrella, this conversation could get you under his.
#19 Tattoo. If he has an interesting tattoo and it’s visible, well, why not ask him about it? Usually, people have a story behind their tattoos, so it’s a great way to start a conversation. Plus, it gives you a reason to stare at him without looking creepy. [Read: Just being me: 15 unexpected things guys like about girls]
#20 Send him a drink. Okay, if you do this, you have serious balls, and I applaud you. If you’re at a restaurant or bar and you have glanced at each other, send him a drink. This is an obvious way to show you’re interested, and he would be a fool not to use this as a way to approach you.
[Read: 15 more really easy and effective conversation starters you can use on guys]
Now that you know how to start a conversation with a guy, you’re going to have to give these methods a try. So, get out there and get going!
The post How to Start a Conversation with a Guy: 20 First Moves that Work is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.
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