#cause like at home I have plenty of fun tank tops and band shirts and other stuff that make me happy

[monster-noises]

it's a very silly thing to turn your nose up at something just to be ~different~ but all the same I will continue to refuse to wear button up t-shirts.

[m00nlitknight]

wherever i may roam. ( 1 of 2 )

fandom: IT (2017) pairing:  patrick hockstetter / female reader word count:   2.1k+ warnings:  underage drinking. loud scenes. men being creepy. patrick being patrick. extra: based heavily off one of these prompts.  part two in the works!  i hope you all enjoy this, and have a fantastic day c:

Having parties wasn’t a known rarity within the ranks of Derry, but they weren’t a known phenomenon on a superficial level, either.  Within the ranks of upper class high schoolers, they were typically done in the fashion of a small circle of friends rather than anything colossal.  Those instances and occasions of plenty were saved for the rare event of a musical guest.  While the quality of the music wasn't considered a static variable, the fun and energy that ensued from the crowd - teens and college students, usually - was.  For that, many found themselves grateful for the bands, even if they were bad metal covers of pop songs, cover bands for hot acts that didn’t make tour stops in Maine, or just song-writers who were trying to make it in the world of music.

You couldn’t complain -- you shouldn’t, really.  Being the daughter of a well-off lawyer whose business was usually taken out of town, and a girl with a reputation to upkeep; these events didn’t just fly under your radar, they were on a completely different radar altogether.  It sucked, really, to be thrust into expectations you didn’t care to uphold, but not having the might to fight back.  So, you did what you could and lived with it.

However, living with it meant blatantly going against the rule of social rules, society, and your father all the while being directly under their nose.  It was a needle-thin line to walk, but one you felt you walked with confidence and care.

Which, is how you managed to sneak out of the house undetected and attend the concert that had been whispered within the school the previous week.  Spoken from under the bleachers, overheard from the bathroom by those who smoked and considered themselves too cool for the joint; who knew your keen sense of hearing would become so useful?

From the moment your father bid you a sterile adieu, composed of a hollow embrace and chaste kiss to the head, you had begun putting your plans in motion.  Wherever he went, likely to a hotel for whatever trial was taking place early the next morning, or whatever, you couldn’t find it in yourself to particularly care.

Looking the part of a ‘typical’ metalhead wasn’t something you were truly infatuated with to any degree.  Sure, putting on the guise of torn jeans, fishnets, boots, and whatever decimated t-shirt you could find was a great bound of comfort compared to the typical stuffy outfits you had, but it felt tiring to have not just one, but two kinds of social guises to keep up.  Polar opposites, at that.  Surely, you deserve an award for it.

You ease the vehicle into park, a full street away from the actual event, to ensure the protection of the metallic body of your car.  Next, you lean to look yourself in the eye -- eyes rimmed with a sharp black, smudged with burgundy eyeshadow, and lips done with a simple gloss.  Had you any actual lip colors, you would’ve reached for them instead.  You stare for a moment longer, admiring the well-pointed wing extending your likely bored resting face.

Stud earrings and a lazily done ponytail completed your look, the rest of your outfit accented with bits of silver jewelry you couldn’t find it in yourself to truly care about.  Several rings were on your fingers, simple silver bands you had bought from thrift stores recently.  In the frosty, night air you wore a black cardigan over a simple black tank top.  Nondescript, you hope, and would allow you to simply blend into the background.  A simple, forgettable face in the crowd.  Exhaling, you prepare yourself for the night to come and push the car open.

The music, likely booming from the basement, lilts through the air with jagged electricity, and it manages to translate into your veins with a faint tingle in your fingers.  You grin to yourself, already feeling the exhilaration to come.  Around the premises of the home a multitude of cars appear parked, which has you thanking your mind for avoiding the mess of it.  Multiple parked on the curbside, in the driveway, and also on the lawn.  The image of the destroyed grass and streaky soil has you cringing internally, for the remembrance of the hard work that likely went into the landscaping.  

The open, and partially wrecked, door frame is but a glance into the chaos that took place shortly after the sun laid itself to daily rest.  Broken electronics, a lamp, a shattered glass coffee table, and a bloody and unconscious stranger lying all in view.  Suddenly, you felt thankful for the thick and hard soles of your boots, and preyed your balance wouldn’t be giving out on you anytime soon.

As you draw closer you hear the music increase in volume, and can only imagine the ear-shattering havoc occurring just down the stairs.  A sudden shriek to your left rips you from your foot hitting the entryway of the door, instead whipping to a sudden figure being body slammed through what you assumed was the living room window.  You felt a wave of relief wash over you at the fact that this wasn’t your home, but a resounding ripple of pity for whoever actually owned the place.

You quickly stepped past and shuffled through the living room, leaving the unnamed duo to brawl, the more coherent shouting briefly as a greeting.  Quickly you found the kitchen, from the trail of empty and shredded beer cans, to the demolished and alarming amount of disposable cups, you snickered to yourself quietly.  The volume increased as you moved more into the building, most of the partygoers sticking to their own groups and remaining calm.  Wherever the violent action was, it was bound to be nearer to the actual band.

In the corner do you find one of the kegs, swiftly making yourself a drink and turning back to the face of a stranger.  Ebony hair, gel-slicked to perfection, deep brown eyes, and a teetering stance; he eyes you with curiosity and an underlying sense of something else.  You shift uncomfortably when he registers your attention on him.

“Y’from here?” he slurs, prodding your shoulder aggressively.

“Nope,” a bold-faced lie, coupled with nonchalant disinterest.  “You?”

“Nah, from, uh...Place a’ways from here,”  he gestures with both hands, drink-filled cup sloshing with the movement and liquid threatening to spill from the open top.  He leans down to your level.   “Where y’from, doll?”

“Don’t quite think I’ll share where I’m from with a guy who won’t even tell me his name before getting my address,” you cringe at the stench of beer heavy on his breath and lean back.

“Oh, uhhh...Name’s, fuckin’...Michael, y’can call me Mike, though,” a grin overtakes his features while your frown deepens.

“Alright, Mike, I’ll see’ya around,”  you attempt to shift around him, to shuffle out from the keg-corner only to be blocked.

“N’awww, c’mon?  I was polite, or whatever, ain’t’cha gonna tell me your name, dollface?”

“No, now let me through.”

“Or what, kitten?”

Outwardly you groan at the intrusion of your space, and also the blatant annoyance of him.  His turns nearly primal while the music gets louder, a crescendo you knew you would likely have trouble yelling over.

A thin, pale finger with several rings taps itself on his shoulder, from a form you were unable to see.  Michael turns around, aggravation apparent while he begins, “Can’t’cha see we’re busy h--”

He’s cut off by a jarring and strength-filled punch, falling awkward and stone-cold out on your shoulder and kegs.  You watch him fall, as though it happens in slow motion, eyes wide and nearly dropping your drink.  Upon turning your head you come eye-to-eye with someone who could put you in an even worse position and you feel a faint sliver of fear scurry up your spine.  Patrick Hockstetter.

“Kitten,” he starts, with a deadly vocal tone which could only be described as velvet draped over gravel.  You want to cringe.  “That your boyfriend or somethin’?”

“Ew, no,”  No gentle care is taken into shoving the unconscious boy’s body from yours and onto the matted, once shaggy carpeting.  “Just a fuckin’ creep who didn’t know where or when to stop.”

Recognition flashes in his eyes, momentary, and he grins to himself while grabbing something to drink.  It makes you uneasy, to see someone who knows everyone at your school.  Your arms cross as you move to leave, until his voice speaks over the music once again.

“What brings a girl like you to a place like this?”  It makes you realize just how close he’s managed to get to you, lips near your ear as though his presence engulfs you.  “Careful, princess, or you just might get devoured.”

“I--”  a short-lived stammer as he turns and throws an arm over your shoulders, causing you to tense.

“S’okay!  I’ll be but a chaperone so you aren’t found dead by sunrise.”

“Wait,” just barely croaked out, and obviously no hindrance as he begins dragging you from the corner and into the rest of the party.

He takes you down the stairs, a bouncy lack of care going into his lengthened strides and whether or not you were able to keep up.  You hold onto him, sliding an arm around his waist to try and keep balance while staring down at the floor to make sure you weren’t about to fall over.

At the bottom level is what managed to always ignite a feeling of excitement in you, set ablaze the adrenaline and flames of hardy teenage violence.  A mosh pit had formed and the destruction stopped just shy of the stairs.  In the air is the heavy scent of leather, sweat, and iron; all of which attacking with the force of animalistic glee.  The air feels heavy, like it’s weighing down on your shoulders.  Timidly, you steal a glance up at Patrick, who’s managed to get a lit cigarette betwixt his fingers and discard his drink in the time you’d been adhered to his side.  He takes a long drag and licks his lips, smoke emulating the carnage of a dragon, if you could compare him to such a beast.

He looks down at you and says something you’re unable to hear over the music, and had it not been for the sheer volume, you’d likely find it to be one of the more enjoyable acts to grace Derry with its presence.  His arm unwinds from around your shoulder and he plants a kiss on your forehead, to which has you reeling, before stepping into the pit and leaving you alone.

It feels unnerving, to suddenly be rid of the boy who’d claimed himself the role of your ‘evening security blanket,’ but to suddenly fear the repercussions.  Eyes you know are locked on opponents or the evening’s stand feel locked on you, and you feel socially naked at the foot of the basement’s stairs with both hands wrapped around a red solo cup.

You gulp after losing sight of him among the dim room and other black-haired aggressors, taking to maneuvering yourself to a couch sat beside a grandfather clock on the outskirts of the fighting and staring into the lukewarm cup.  Sips are taken from it, carefully, while a couple does what you can only describe as practically eating one another’s faces.

As time passes you begin to feel more cramped, not so much that eyes are on you any longer, but more so that the time to leave is rapidly approaching.  A brief glance at the clock registers it as 11:50 p.m., and you feel a slight pang in your gut that the time to move is now.  

You set the plastic cup on the coffee table in front of you and start off, without much of a care for who would be the poor soul to clean it up.  The stairs are ascended quickly, and alarms in your mind begin to go off fervently.  Wherever your evening’s chaperone had gone, he wasn’t worth getting potentially arrested for.  The kitchen and living room are passed briskly, and while the quick removal of such loud noises is nothing short of disorienting, the sound of approaching sirens is enough to sober you completely.

The yard is left in the dust as you take to a full-sprint down the street, mentally cursing yourself for even coming in the first place.  Wherever the authorities were, you knew that potentially crossing paths with them would be a death wish.

You only slow down and exhale when you’re in your car seat, key jammed in the ignition and letting the engine roar to life.  Speeding home probably wouldn’t be the best course of action, but you can’t help the lead foot and lady luck allowing you to swing into the driveway with no detection.

Is this true nirvana, you wonder, narrowly escaping the law after a gut feeling in a place you weren’t even meant to be?  Whatever the case, you knew sleep would either be impossible to grasp, or come the moment it hit your pillow.

[saultnpeppah]

Day 6: Bachelor(ette) Party

Sorry for the delay. Day 6: Bachelor(ette) Party

December 19. Wayne Manor. 06:11 EST

Diana

The decorations that are hanging within the manor make me smile as I hop down the stairs, pulling a sweatshirt on as I make my way to the front door, where someone is pounding on the heavy piece of wood loudly. I know who is on the other end, and I am happy to see they are early for once, but part of me can't help be frustrated that they interrupted the only morning I've had with Bruce in two weeks.

The wedding is in two weeks and the stress has finally started to catch up as both Bruce and I try our best to finalize the small details. The florist, the band, and the catering are all booked and ready. The dress has been done and is hanging in Alfred's closet away from Bruce's prying eyes, and Donna has assured me a few of her friends here in Gotham will get both the conservatory, where our ceremony will be held, and the ballroom, decorated for the wedding.

The manor has been in Bruce's family for generations, it only made sense to get married here. But instead of the outdoor wedding both his parents and grandparents had, we decided to remain indoors, knowing the cold snowy days of winter would not make our guests comfortable. It was the easiest decision we made.

The only thing that we need to do is tradition, but with all the stress and the wedding only a week after Christmas, it is one I can go without: my Bachelorette party. Donna, and the rest of my bridesmaids, however, did not feel the same, telling me a girl's night out would help relieve some of the stress this wedding was causing. I had only agreed after they promised we wouldn't be doing anything too crazy, seeing as though Christmas was next week and the wedding was a week later.

The knocking continues as I step off the last step, sliding toward the front door, before glancing out of the peephole. My hand grips the door handle and I yank it open, whispering, "You don't need to be that loud."

Donna only giggles and shakes her head, pushing me aside to gain access to the warmth that fills the manor. "It's not like you have neighbors," she says sarcastically.

I only shake my head, watching as Donna removes her coat and hangs it up beside the door, before I turn to watch the other two women step out of the car. Lois closes the driver's side door of her car and tightens her scarf, pulling it up over her nose for the short trek to the open manor door. Beside her is Shayera who, having spent years on the sunny west coast, shivers under her thick jacket. She pulls the hat atop her head further over her ears, trying to warm them, as she rushes past Lois into the manor and out of the cold.

Lois shakes her head, chuckling at the redhead, before she steps inside, moving aside to let me close the door behind her. "Poor woman can't handle the cold," Lois says, pulling the scarf from her mouth, letting it hang loosely around her neck as she pulls off her coat and sets it beside Donna's, who has quickly made her way into the kitchen with Shayera, both needing something to eat to distract from being up this early.

I nod and chuckle. I will never understand why someone who hates the cold as much as Shayera decided to go to college in the east coast where the snow was plentiful and the wind chilled your bones to the point you felt they could snap. "She'll live," I say with a smirk.

Lois chuckles and pulls her phone from her back pocket, checking the time. Alfred steps out from the door leading to the kitchen, a duffle bag in his hands, a smirk on his face. He hands the bag to Lois, who accepts it with a nod and thanks him, watching as he turns on his heel and walks back into the room, most likely shooing Donna and Shayera from the kitchen as they rush out of the room moments after he disappears behind the door.

"What's that?" I ask curiously, although I already know the answer. Although Donna is my maid of honor, Lois has been helping her plan long distance, and none of the four, Charlie included, have told me what they had planned for tonight.

I've tried to pester Charlie at work, trying to get her to spill even the smallest of details, but it was to no avail. Every time Charlie got a text or a call from Lois or Donna she would smirk at me, silently torturing me; I am saddened that she will not be there, but her wife, Laura, has just had a baby, and even though it's been a few weeks, baby Aria had a troubling entrance into the world, so I don't hold it against her. She needs to be home with her wife and daughter, and in all honesty, I'd rather be at her home snuggling that little bundle than doing whatever crazy idea the girls have thought up.

"It's your bag," Lois says with a shrug. "And you will get it when we get to our destination, so you don't know where we're going."

I scoff and shake my head, glancing down at the sweats and sweatshirt that is covering a thin tank top I wear, raising an eyebrow as I pull my hair up into a messy bun. "Can I at least go change?" I ask.

Lois nods. "Yes, but no funny business with Bruce," she warns, "we're going to be late if the two of you can't keep your hands off each other."

Shayera giggles but Donna gags, not wanting to know her sister has a very active sex life. That's probably for the best. "I'll try," I say with a smirk. I begin to bound up the stairs, stopping at the top of the staircase to ask over my shoulder, "What am I supposed to wear?" trying to get one last hint to where we're going.

Shayera shakes her finger, shaming me for my attempt at more information, and says, "Just throw on a tshirt and jeans, Prince." I only nod, watch as Shayera smirks, and jog down the hall to my bedroom. "Don't make me come up there," she calls from downstairs.

I fling the door to the room open to see Bruce step out of the bathroom, wiping a towel over his freshly shaven face. "I assume they're here to kidnap you," he asks, watching as I pull the sweatshirt and tank off at once, leaving the top half of my body bare.

"Yes," is all I say, quickly pulling articles of clothing out from the dresser in the corner of the room. I pull on the clothing, a squeal escaping my lips when I feel Bruce's arms wrap around my waist and pull me up against him, his hand sneaking under the shirt I have just pulled on. "Lois is going to kill you if you make me late," I say, although part of me wants him to risk it. It's been weeks since Bruce and I have had a day off together, and I want nothing more than to shoo the girls away and stay locked up in this room.

"I'm not scared of her," he says in a whisper against my neck and I chuckle.

"You should be," I say, pulling my sweats down and discarding them alongside the other articles of clothing I threw on in my rush to answer the door. "But Shayera is also down there."

Bruce hesitates, freezing his movements that have his hands working circles along my hip. He is all too familiar with Shayera's tactics, after having been the receiver of a punch to the gut our freshman year of college. He now knows better than to test her and her patience. "Fine," he says with a sigh. He places a kiss on the back of my neck, watching as my breath hitches in the back of my throat, before he lets out a raspy laugh of his own. "Go. Have fun," he says, sending me off on his well wishes as he crawls back into bed, wanting to get another few minutes of sleep after the late night we had.

I pull on a pair of jeans and finish my outfit off with a pair of boots, before I lean over and kiss him one last time. With that, I rush out of the room, careful to grab my phone and my purse on the way out, and join the three women downstairs, still cautious about what these three have planned.

XXXXXXXX

December 19. Gotham Rec Center. 12:12 EST

Bruce

"That's game!"

Clark releases his hold on the rim of the basketball hoop, landing on the hardwood floor with a small thud, as Oliver struts up to him and pats his shoulder, beaming with pride. "I believe we won," Oliver says with a grin, giving a high five to Clark and his other teammate, Wally West.

My partner, John Stewart, only shakes his head and curses under his breath. He is not a fan of losing, neither am I. "That's only because you have an extra player," he points out, pointing to Wally, who only raises his hand in surrender, unsure of how he got roped into the game in the first place.

Having met Wally two years prior at a convention in Central City, I was at first put off by his irrepressible personality. He could talk for hours and still not get the point across, and I would find myself toning him out, responding with a nod here and there only to not seem disinterested in what he was saying. But after a day or two, I was won over by his knowledge of forensic anthropology and science, soon creating a friendship over our quick witted banter and thirst for knowledge. Wally was the youngest of the group, a younger brother of sorts, but I knew I wanted him to be part of my wedding as soon as Diana had accepted my proposal. And Diana loved him. She found him cute and his antics were endearing.

Like Wally, I hadn't known John for more than a year or so, having met at one of the military bases I was touring, looking for ways to help the Marine Corps incorporate new technology WayneTech had been working on. At first John was very skeptical of me, so he had told me, but after working closely together for a few months, he warmed up and we were able to form a friendship, finding the time to play a game of basketball every other week.

"Yeah, yeah," Ollie says, brushing off John's comment. He tucks the basketball under his arm and walks to the bench, where we have stashed our water bottles, phones, and keys, picks up his water bottle, and chugs its contents. "Considering West here spent half the game running after the ball instead of actually playing, I think we were pretty well matched."

He flashes Wally a smirk and a wink, hearing the younger man scoff at his comment, before he lifts the end of his tshirt and wipes the sweat from his brow. I've known Ollie nearly all my life. Our fathers used to do business with each other, and as much as I consider Clark to be my best friend, Ollie is the only one who knows the stress of running a company with a reputation like Wayne Enterprises or Queens Consolidated; if only he were a bit more responsible and didn't threaten the future of his company playing stupid games, something I've warned him against multiple times.

"Well I'm starving," I finally say in an attempt to keep the peace. "How about we go get some lunch, and then you can all tell me what we're doing?"

Everyone nods their head in unison and we all grab our items, before we head to the locker room and change into our clothes, stuffing our dirt and sweat filled gym attire into very worn out duffle bags. When we finally walk out of the rec center and back into the cold air Christmas in Gotham brings, I can't help but chuckle when I see poor Oliver shivering in his jacket, as we make our way to where Alfred waits with a limo. They don't get weather like this in California. We quickly make our way inside, each greeting Alfred as we get seated, before the Englishman starts the vehicle and takes off to a prediscloused location - one that I was not involved in planning.

"So what are we doing tonight?" I ask casually, trying to gain some information on the bachelor party that the four have kept quiet the last month and a half.

I am starting to worry they forgot to plan something and are hoping I will be their source of entertainment here in the city, but when Oliver says, "We're getting out of this negative two thousand degree weather," I know I'm in for a long weekend.

I never agreed to go anywhere. I didn't tell Diana I would be leaving the city, and the more I think about it, I haven't heard from her all morning. Whatever her bridesmaids dragged her into, I only hope she has fun, and doesn't get into too much trouble. "What do you mean?" I ask, flipping through the unread emails on my phone.

Oliver doesn't answer. Instead he throws a sly smile toward Clark, who sits there, chewing a piece of gum, trying to keep himself from spilling the secret before the big reveal. I know I'm not going to get anymore information out of Oliver and Clark, John is as much of a fortress with information as Lois, and Wally is too afraid of the rest of the guys to say anything, so I am out of luck and stay quiet, trying to enjoy the ride.

By the time I am done clearing out my inbox, the limo stops and Alfred opens the back door, where we all crawl out and onto a runway, where my private jet is waiting. "No," I say, shaking my head profusely at Oliver, who has the biggest grin on his face that could mean nothing but trouble. "I don't even have anything packed."

"I took the liberty of packing your bag for you, Master Wayne," Alfred says with a grin, pulling a suitcase from the trunk of the vehicle. He places it on the floor before he reaches in and pulls out everyone else's bags and I realize I've been tricked. So much for a quiet Bachelor party.

"You sneak," I accuse Alfred, who only shrugs his shoulders, promising to watch the manor for the weekend, before he gets into the driver's seat and takes off, leaving me stranded on the runway with the four men who each have devious grins on their faces. "I haven't even showered," I say, realizing that skipping the shower at the rec center, thinking I was going to be able to get a quick lunch and go home, was a mistake.

Clark shrugs his shoulder, bends down, and picks up three of the bags. "Shower on the plane," he says as he walks toward the plane, leaving me to shake my head, wondering how I got such sneaky friends.

XXXXXX

December 19. O'ahu, Hawaii. 16:03 HST

Diana

"I can't believe you brought me to the other side of the country," I say, my head still spinning from the flight that landed three hours ago. When Lois had driven to the airport, I figured we were headed to Atlantic City or New York. The furthest west I thought we would go was Vegas, but when I saw the destination on the ticket Lois tried to keep from me, I just about fainted.

Bruce had no idea where I was. As far as he knew, we were still nearby, having a girl's night at Lois' apartment, eating junk food and sipping margaritas. And while the margaritas were definitely a plenty, I had not expected to be sitting in a bikini by the beach while having my second drink of the night.

"Shut up and drink your margarita," Shayera says with a smirk as she and Donna come back to our table, dressed in their own beach attire, drinks in hand.

"She's right," Lois says, "besides, would you have come if we told you where we were taking you?" I only shake my head. "That's what I thought. By the way, Charlie wishes she could be here."

I let out a sigh. I wish my friend could have been here too, but she was with her wife and new daughter, and I couldn't fault her for that. Little Aria had definitely had an interesting birth story, scaring everyone that was anxiously awaiting her arrival, but now that all three were home and doing well, all that didn't matter. Still, Charlie was anxious about leaving the two of them a few weeks after her daughter's birth, not wanting to risk things. Now that I know we have traveled across the country, I understand her hesitation, and I send a quick text to let her know I miss her and can't wait to see that baby's sweet little face again.

Shayera takes a seat across from me and lets out a content sigh as she sips the drink in her hand, before she hands another glass to Donna, causing my eyebrow to raise. "What's that?" I ask, watching as Donna takes a sip and grins.

"Um, a margarita," she says with a shrug, unphased by the concern in my voice.

"Virgin?" I ask, tilting my head as I stare at my sister.

She contemplates her answer, before she shakes her head with a chuckle. "Of course not," she says, taking another sip.

I place my own cup on the table in front of me and snatch the glass from her hand, shaking my finger as she tries to protest. "Na uh," I say, "Drinking age is 21." I glance up at Shayera and furrow my brows. "How did you even get this anyway?"

Shayera chuckles and takes a large sip of her beverage, shrugs, and says, "That bartender was too busy flirting with her to realize she never got carded." After a pause she adds, "He also didn't charge me for the second drink, so I guess that's a win."

"Come on, Di," Donna begins, "Drinking age is eighteen at home."

I only shake my head once more. "We're not at home," I say, "And I don't feel like getting arrested for providing alcohol to a minor two weeks before my wedding."

Donna pouts, saddened by my newest rule, and Shayera tries to hide her playful scoff. "As I recall, you drank a lot heavier stuff than margaritas our freshman year, Diana," she says, stopping only when I kick her shin from under the table.

I know Shayera is right. I know I am a hypocrite for keeping Donna from drinking, even though I know she can handle her liquor better than half the people here, but while she is away from home, I am in charge of her well being, and I would hate for anything to happen to her, especially while we are away from Gotham. She's my sister, and if I have to be a little over protective of her, so be it.

Donna lets out a sigh, agitated that I did not let up, and pushes her chair back. "Fine," she says, standing from her seat. "I'll be right back." She walks back to the bar and I notice the bartender Shayera had mentioned before light up when he sees her, a smile on his face as his eyes fixate on Donna's, slowly listening to everything she orders.

"You've become a hard ass," Shayera says with a smirk, to which I roll my eyes and chuckle, knowing she understands where I am coming from.

I turn to face Lois and watch as she scans the room intently, her eyes roaming over every person in the room as she whispers something to herself. "You alright?" I find myself asking as I place a hand on her shoulder, pulling her attention away from a group of people at the opposite end of the bar.

Lois' eyes meet mine and she smiles, nods, and takes a sip of her drink. "I'm fine," she says, no further explanation given.

I nod, believing her, but I can't help but turn to scan the room myself. I have nearly completed a full sweep when I notice the group of people Lois had been staring at, my brows furrowing as I watch the men drink and laugh, each holding a beer as a few stare at the bikini clad women walking by, not a care in the world. When one of them turns, I shake my head and let out a scoff, before I rise from my seat and excuse myself from the table, intent on giving him a piece of my mind.

XXXXXX

December 19. O'ahu, Hawaii. 16:03 HST

Bruce

As we walk into the resort restaurant, I can't help but feel exhausted. An eleven hour flight was not something I had been planning this afternoon. If I had known this, I would have begged Diana to let me sleep instead of kissing her well into the morning - actually that is a lie, as I would always choose sleep deprivation over the deprivation of her lips on mine. The thought sends a flutter to my heart and I have to shake my head clear so that I can concentrate on not falling asleep as I walk.

The flight over was fairly monotonous. We had each taken showers in the bathroom at the rear of the plane, after which I claimed the bed in order to get one or two hours of shut eye while the others fended for themselves; Never had I been more grateful to have had my own private jet than I did today.

When we had landed, Oliver made sure we had a car waiting to take us to the resort, where we checked in, went to the suite to dump our luggage, and came downstairs to grab a drink, all in record time. And while at first I was convinced this was going to be a bad idea, where I would barely get to enjoy my time here and be exhausted a majority of the weekend, the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was a "Bruce Wayne" thing to do.

"How about a drink?" Oliver asks. Everyone nods their head, ready to start a weekend of relaxation, and he turns to me. "Bruce, come help me, will ya?"

I only nod and follow Ollie to the bar, watching as he tries to get the attention from the blonde bartender who is busy making a few extra drinks, her co worker on the other side of the bar, leaning against the counter as he flirts with another tourist. It takes a minute to finally gain her attention, and she comes over to take our order. "Hello gorgeous," Oliver says, giving the bartender a wink as he places his card on the bar. He runs a hand through his own blonde hair and tries his hand at seducing her without a word, but she doesn't fall for it and simply asks for us to repeat our order. Defeated, Ollie says, "Five of whatever you have on tap," watching as she nods and goes to grab our order.

I am unable to help the laugh that falls from my mouth as I watch Oliver sigh and drop his head, before he leans against the bar. Ever since he and Dinah ended things, yet another one of his stupid mistakes, he can't seem to get his groove back with women. It's a little disheartening to see someone who was as big of a playboy as I was, strike out with women, although as a man who is getting married in two weeks, I can no longer condone that behavior. I only wish he takes my advice and actually tries to reach out to Dinah once more.

The music shuffles and another song begins, providing some more up beat tempos to the couples dancing on a small dance floor. This place is small, but it is not boring, and as I continue to watch the people out on the beach, I decide I'm going to bring Diana hereafter we are married, as she will love it.

"Hey, Oliver," I say, turning my attention back to the man who is silently staring at a few surfers in the background. He turns to me. "Thank you," I say.

Oliver shakes his head. "No, thank Clark," he answers, "he was the one who set this whole thing up."

I applaud him for giving the credit to my best man, but I know for a fact Clark couldn't have paid for everything here. But Oliver knows what I meant, and only offers me a sly smile, pats me on the back, and says, "But think of this as a thank you. You saved me and the company back in February, and I can't thank you enough for that, Bruce."

Before I can respond, the blonde bartender comes back, a tray of beers in hand. Oliver hands her a credit card and tells her to keep a tab open, before he quickly grabs the tray and walks off to join the guys, myself not too far behind. When he makes it back to the three, Oliver begins to hand out beers, laughing at the last line of a joke Wally said that I just missed.

Clark makes a toast to the rest of the weekend, and to the wedding everyone can't stop talking about, before we indulge in our own little party, chatting about everything beside the wedding, because as much as I love the thought of marrying Diana in two weeks, I can't be stuck in another conversation about which flowers go best with lace. I'll leave that up to the bride and her friends.

"Now that is a beautiful woman," Wally says as he finishes his beer. He sets the glass down on to the table, turning his head to get a better look at the woman sporting a blue bikini, as she trots toward the water, surfboard in hand. Oliver nudges his arm and wiggles his eyebrows, before he whistles loudly, and I want nothing more than to hide my face, not wanting to draw more attention to myself as Oliver and the guys already have.

"Have some respect," Clark says as he takes another drink of his beverage and I am once again surprised at the will power this man has. Ever since he started dating Lois, he has yet to look at another woman in a manner that is anything other than professional. Although when you find the woman who you love more than anything, no other person will compare. I'm a testament to that.

I take another sip of my drink when I feel someone tap my shoulder. "Excuse me, sir," I hear from behind me, "care to dance?"

I place my drink on the table and turn, ready to let the woman behind me know I am unable to fulfill her request, but when I see who it is, my face lights up and my lips curl into a wide smile. "What are you doing here?" I ask in utter disbelief, surprised to see that my fiance so happens to be at the same resort me and my groomsmen are at currently.

Diana giggles as she leans in to my open arms. She kisses my cheek and I wrap my arms around her, the feeling of her body flush against mine sending chills down my spine. How has it only been a few hours since I've seen her and yet I feel like I'm going through withdrawals?

"Lois," she says, but she looks past me at Clark and narrows her eyes. "Although I suspect Clark and Lois conceived this idea together."

I glance over Diana's shoulder and notice Lois, Shayera, and Donna sitting at a table, enjoying what look like margaritas and laughing at something Donna has said. Our friends are sneaky people but they mean well, and I can't fault them for that.

"So," I begin, moving closer to Diana so I can whisper in her ear, "do you think they'd notice if we left for a bit?"

She ponders my question, a sly smile on her face as she realizes I want to continue what was interrupted this morning. "Let's go," she says as she takes my hand and pulls me away from the guys, maneuvering me through the crowd surrounding the bar, before pulling me out of the restaurant and onto the sand that covers the beach.

We walk across the sand, hand in hand, trying to find a spot where we can find complete privacy. Diana tells me of how she and the girls flew to Hawaii, Lois and Donna keeping her preoccupied until they boarded their last flight; only then did she know where they were headed. She tells me how she tried to call me the second she landed, wanting to let me know she wasn't going to be home tomorrow morning like she had originally thought, but I hadn't received her message because I had been on my own trek to the island. I tell her about my day, how after she left Clark and Oliver arrived at the manor, enjoyed a quick breakfast, and went about my day, not knowing I would be sleeping in a bed on the other side of the country that night.

"I can't believe Oliver is paying for all this," Diana says as we plop ourselves down onto the sand.

I stare out to the ocean, where the sunset has already begun to cast a beautiful array of red and orange over the water, and nod. "I know," I say, agreeing that he is taking this thanks a bit too far, but if he wants to splurge on me and my fiance, I'll happily let him do so.

It is quiet for a moment, the only sounds coming from the small waves crashing on the shore, and I am grateful to know the only other people on this side of the beach have found their ways home, giving Diana and I the privacy we so desperately crave. It isn't long before she finds herself in my lap, arms wrapped around my neck, as she kisses me fiercely. Without hesitation my hands find themselves around her waist, pulling her closer, wanting to feel her body against mine.

My hands caress her back, my fingertips dancing along her bare back as my right hand makes its way up into her hair. My fingers tangle into those dark locks I love and when I give it a small yank, she lets out a moan that ignites something inside of me. My lips kiss a trail from her lips to her neck, knowing what this does to her, a smirk on my face when I hear her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

"Bruce," she whispers, "we shouldn't be doing this here."

I nod as I place my lips over hers once more. I know she's right, but her in my arms feels so right, and I don't care where we are, I want her. I part my lips, knowing I need to respond, however the voices that come from a few feet away make me freeze in my tracks.

"I think they're over there," I hear. My heart races as I recognize the deep voice. It's John, and he and the shadowy figure he is with begin to run to where Diana and I sit.

"Diana," I whisper, "we have company."

She pulls away from me and looks over her shoulder just in time to see John and Shayera come running up, stopping when they realize the compromising position they have found us in.

"Woah, are we interrupting something?" Shayera asks with a smug smile. She crosses her arms over her chest, staring intently at Diana and I as John tries to look away, trying to avoid both Diana and I, and Shayera's bikini clad chest, which is right in his line of sight.

"Yes," Diana says, letting out a sigh as she stands and fixes the skirt she wears.

"Good," Shayera says. "It's only been a few hours and you can't keep your hands off each other."

I stand from the sand and brush off my shorts and shrug. "Can you blame me," I ask honestly. Shayera glances at Diana, pondering my question, and nods to herself with a sigh, before she shakes her head and waves away her private thoughts. "Beside, you guys are the ones who brought us to the same resort."

John sighs. "I told Clark that was a bad idea. Now they're going to try to sneak off every chance they can."

Diana glances at me and winks, before she lifts her hand and uses a finger to cross an x over her heart. "I promise. We'll stay away from each other until we all go home."

Shayera doesn't seem to accept Diana's response, but she soon shrugs her shoulders and lets it go. Diana turns to give me one last kiss, smiling as she looks into my eyes, before she turns and follows Shayera back down to the restaurant and resort.

John, who has been staring at Shayera, clears his throat and turns to me. "Oliver says we have plans," he says. I nod and we walk back to the restaurant, where the other three guys are waiting, ready for a night of partying and drinking, and although all I want is to still be wrapped in Diana's arms, I know that'll come in time. Two more weeks, Bruce. Two more weeks until I get to marry her.

I realize nothing too exciting happened here, but this was the one I was unsure of. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!

@fyeahwonderbat

[kentonramsey]

R29 Style Picks: Everything We Want To Wear In August

There are few things we Brits enjoy more than a sunny day. Whether it involves lying in the back garden or taking a day trip to the nearest beach, as soon as the sun rears its head, the mood of the nation is automatically boosted by 110%. While our neighbours on the continent are always guaranteed a hot summer, Britain unfortunately is not, meaning any unexpected appearance of the sun causes a stampede to the nearest ice cream van. And the arrival of warm weather on British shores is even more coveted this summer, as people swap trips abroad for exploring their own backyards. With COVID-19 still a huge threat across the UK and the rest of the world, many of us are choosing to stay put and enjoy a good old-fashioned staycation at one of Britain's beauty spots. From camping trips in the Peak District to sampling the pleasures of the local park, there is plenty to enjoy without taking a long-haul flight. But of course, what summer is complete without a holiday wardrobe? Whether we're talking picnic fashion or seaside style, dressing for a sunny day at home can be just as exciting as a far-flung getaway. From canvas shoes to woven shopping bags, the opportunity for statement style doesn’t have to go out the window just because you won't be getting a tropical tan. To check out what team R29 are wearing this August, click through the slides ahead…

Georgia Murray, Fashion Editor

I, like every other lockdown cliche, have discovered the joy of cycling. I haven’t braved any main roads but pootling around south London’s backstreets on my two-wheeled steed gives me the same freeing feeling as dancing or swimming. Alas, none of my flared jeans are suitable to wear (chain, oil etc.), so I go for leggings instead. This pair from Tala is such a fun colour (I wear oversized band tees, tank tops and men’s shirts with mine), eco-friendly and breathable. I wear them as much on the old bike as I do for a 5k around the park.  Tala Zinnia Legging, $, available at Tala

Besides my trusty Birkenstocks and Crocs (I know, I know, but I’m converted!), I’ve only worn one style of footwear since lockdown: the canvas shoe. Whether it’s my Keds, Converse, Novestas or Vans, there’s something so simple about the breathable and comfortable plimsoll that feels appropriate right now. Enter my next favourite: Superga’s classic 2490 COTU style in golden yellow. I’ll be wearing with white jeans and ringer tees for a ‘70s summer look. Superga 2490 Cotu, $, available at Superga

I wore this slip dress from sustainable Australian brand St. Agni on my birthday in June and felt the best I had since lockdown began. I usually avoid slip dresses due to the lack of boob support but hidden seams in this one kept me comfortable going bra-free.  St. Agni Anouk Silk Slip Dress, $, available at Browns

Anna Jay, Art Director

I'm patiently waiting for these to come back into stock. I’ll wear them under dresses for long days in the park, and for the long cycle rides I’ve discovered in lockdown. Girlfriend Collective Bike Stretch Shorts, $, available at Net-A-Porter

I’m really not thinking about buying clothes at the moment but looking ahead to the next season, I definitely have a gap for a good straight trouser and these (elasticated! waist!) fit the bill perfectly.  Everlane The Easy Straight Leg Chino, $, available at Everlane

If I’m going to have to start doing more than 300 steps a day now we’re out more, I’d prefer to do so in these dream cloudlike sneaks. VEJA Venturi Trainers, $, available at Arket

Alicia Lansom, Editorial Assistant

Being 5'2 makes it virtually impossible to find a short dress that doesn’t fall below my knees. This month I have set myself the task of finding a mini dress that won’t end up wrapping my legs in metres of fabric. Hopefully this lilac number was made with short people in mind. Stradivarius Short Swiss Embroidery Dress, $, available at Stradivarius

No matter how hard I try to get away, black sandals always pull me back in. This Vagabond pair meets my criteria of being both chunky and comfy, meaning they’ll be perfect for wandering around my local park all summer. Vagabond Black Leather Sandals, $, available at Vagabond

I fell in love with this choker when I realised it looked like a very fancy (and inedible) candy necklace. Created with sustainably sourced pearls, this would be the perfect addition to any of my summer staycation outfits. Olivia & Pearl Keshi Choker, $, available at Olivia & Pearl

Sadhbh O'Sullivan, Health & Living Writer

I haven’t worn any shoes that aren’t slippers or Birkenstocks since March and probably never will again. So I want some ethically made fun socks to pair with my beat-up Birks. Rapanui Women's Bamboo Socks, $, available at Rapanui

These may not be super summery but I love the fit, colour and quality of these high-waisted jeans from Lucy and Yak. Perfect for the less warm summer days. I’ve been a big fan of the brand from afar for its ethical and organic credentials. I just haven’t bought (yet), partly because I haven’t got around to it and partly because I would love for the brand to expand its size range further. Plus-size people want ethical fashion too!  Lucy & Yak ‘Addison' High Waisted Organic Cotton Twill Jeans, $, available at Lucy & Yak

All I really want in life is to waft around in a linen dress. So I should probably get a really good one – like this one! Toast Cotton Linen Workwear Dress, $, available at Toast

Vicky Spratt, Features Editor

Life is just one long search for the perfect leopard print. Here is a fine example. I’m going camping with some pals which, in honesty, isn’t really my thing. But if I were wearing this bikini top, I think I would probably just about be able to cope with the lack of hot water. Probably.  Fisch Grenadins Leopard-Print Underwired Bikini Top, $, available at Net-A-Porter

I am currently devastated because my favourite pair of vintage Levi’s ripped along the bum seam as I bent down to load my washing machine. Yep, that’s how exciting my life is right now. I wore them ALL THE TIME and I’m beside myself so I am probably going to shell out on a brand-new pair which, okay, won’t be faded and worn but might just live a little longer than a vintage pair. I’m really mindful of the impact denim production has on the environment so I try not to buy jeans too often but I’ll have these for a very long time (I hope).  Levi's 501 High Rise Jeans, $, available at Liberty London

I could write something really wordy and pseudo-intellectual here, an ode to these hoops. But let’s be real, I just like gold hoops. I can never have enough. Sophie Buhai has, once again, nailed the perfect statement hoop which means I can be super lazy and just wear jeans and a white T-shirt while still looking like I’ve made an effort. Simple and effective. Not sure I can justify them right now because I have approx 15 pairs of gold hoops in my possession but…if I could...I would.  Sophie Buhai Tiny Egg Gold Vermeil Hoops, $, available at Matches Fashion

Jacqueline Kilikita, Beauty Editor

I’ve been looking for a shirt to combat chilly evenings for a while but they’ve all been a bit too thin or have a pattern I’m not quite into. This one looks just right and I love the muted mint green hue. Zara Overshirt With Pockets, $, available at Zara

As well as my purse and phone, a good bag needs to be able to fit crisps, dip and Whispering Angel (all the important stuff). This woven shopper is summery and practical in equal measure. Joules Albury Woven Straw Shopper Bag, $, available at Very

I’m not usually a dress person but I thought I’d nudge myself out of my comfort zone and buy a couple of floral dresses this summer. The thing is, they look a bit too cutesy with sandals, so I’m on the hunt for a pair of boots to toughen them up a little bit. These chunky leather Chelsea boots are perfect and they look super comfy, too. & Other Stories Chunky Leather Chelsea Boots, $, available at & Other Stories

Jessica Morgan, Staff Writer

I know we said we weren’t wearing bras in lockdown but I’m at the stage where getting dressed is vital for me to feel normal, so it’s time to look after myself. This luxury bralette is the perfect treat for my boobs. Heist The Bralette, $, available at Heist

I’ve been wanting a grey pair of New Balance since I saw someone wearing a nice pair on Instagram. Influenced? Yes. They’ll go nicely with a pastel floral dress.  New Balance 574 Core, $, available at New Balance

I love minimal jewellery and I need more rings on my fingers, obviously. All Blues Snake Ring Thick, $, available at All Blues

Kristine Romano, Photo & Design Assistant

I love all things puff-sleeved. Dresses, shirts, jumpers…you name it! This top would likely replace the plain white tee in my wardrobe. Monki Balloon Sleeve Top, $, available at Monki

My bike shorts have definitely seen better days so I figure it’ll be time to invest in a more long-wearing pair soon. This pair by Prism can be worn as sportswear, swimwear or shapewear and fit UK sizes 6-16 in one. I love multi-use garments but I especially love that these will adapt to my body, not constrict it. Prism London Open Minded Shorts, $, available at Prism London

If I ever trade up my trainers for sandals, it will be because of these! I am fully here for the fisherman sandal trend. I also just love a good pair of Docs. These are perfectly breezy for summer but also provide enough coverage that I can wear them into autumn (or maybe even winter if I’m feeling adventurous) by pairing them with some socks. Dr Martens Leather Fisherman Sandals, $, available at DR MARTENS

Like what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?

Neon & Pastels Are Out, Primary Colours Are In

A Guide To Finding Your Ultimate Summer Dress

8 Cycle-Friendly Outfits That Don't Involve Lycra

R29 Style Picks: Everything We Want To Wear In August published first on https://mariakistler.tumblr.com/

[chaunceyandchumleysdad]

Riot Fest 2017 Wrap Up

This was my 5th consecutive year at Riot Fest. I was recently telling a friend that I get as excited about Riot Fest every year as I did about Christmas when I was a kid. How can you not like a three day party with awesome live music? I also love how this community of roughly 50,000 people a day gather at one spot to have fun and put the rest of their lives on hold for a bit. Many people also travel from all over the country to come to Riot Fest, so I consider myself most fortunate that it is based in my home town of Chicago which allows me the opportunity to attend every year.

Weather – I thought last year (2016) was the best ever Riot Fest from a weather perspective. This year may have topped last year depending on how you look at it. 2016 was the warmest and driest Riot Fest I had experience up to that point. Temps were hitting mid-to-upper 70’s during the day and the only rain was a brief light sprinkle on Friday afternoon. This year, no rain at all and hot weather! High temps were in the mid-80’s all weekend. I’m not sure how some of band members could stand to wear their stage costumes in the heat. A few different band members did comment on the heat including John Doe of X. And X is from Los Angeles! There were some nice periodic breezes, which helped. It was mostly good for me, but I cannot take a lot of intense sun. As a result, I had to pace myself a little more this year, spending some time in the shade, frequently slathering on sun block, more trips to the water station, and wee bit less alcohol than I might otherwise consume. It all worked out well. For the bands on my A-list, I hung at the stage in the sun. For some of my B-list bands, I would simply head into a shady area that still allowed me to see the stage from a distance while clearly hearing the music.

Mud (or lack there of) – Mud had been the bane of the first three Riot Fests I attended. Not a detriment to enjoying the festival, but a poor condition for walking or sitting on the ground. This year, no rain meant no mud. In fact, we had the opposite of mud with dry dirt sometimes getting kicked up into surrounding dust clouds, particularly near the stages when mosh circles developed. However, the wind typically would blow out the dust cloud so it was never a big issue.

Music and Bands I Regret Not Seeing -  My summaries of the bands I saw are in my separate day-by-day posts. Here are a few bands I did not see, but would have like to have seen if timing permitted: The Regrettes – yeah, I regret not seeing The Regrettes. They did just a 30 minutes set on the small stage at 6pm on Saturday and it was a time when I needed some food and the small stage was on the opposite end of the park from the food vendors. They are a young band so I am going to look for an opportunity to catch them sometime at a club show. Paramore and Minus The Bear – both A-List bands for me that I did not see due to “game time decisions.” I missed Paramore because I ended up staying for all off M.I.A. I enjoyed M.I.A., but I heard that Paramore was really good. Dirty Heads and Bad Brains – both B-List bands for me but I would have liked to see them if the scheduling had worked out differently. GBH and The Smith Street Band – there were a few bands that I had listed that were in the early time slots that I did not get to see because I didn’t make it to the grounds early enough on Saturday and Sunday. Of that list of bands, these were my two A-Listers.

Favorite Quotes:

Gogol Bordello: Front man Eugene Hütz referred to Chicago as “chick-UH-go” and Chicagoans as “chick-uh-cog-uh-AIN-ians.”

Jawbreaker: “Thanks Riot Fest for inviting us out of retirement. It’s tough getting good news when you don’t know what to do with it.”

Pennywise: “We have special guests today. Donald Trump and Melania are back stage. They’re drinking Russian vodka.”

GWAR: “I hope nobody has a job interview tomorrow!”

Cold Beat (during their mid-afternoon set) “We’re very happy to be playing night time music in a very non-night time environment.”

Danzig (referring to the heat): “It’s a mother fucker out here!”

That Dog (quotes by Anna Waronker,): re playing Retreat From The Sun in it’s entirety: “I’m worried about the clock and I want to get it all in. It’s like (being at) therapy.” And noticing a fan in the audience stretching: “Oh, that was a good stretch!”

Stages – The third year in Douglas Park, and just five stages this year; one less than 2016 two less than 2015 and three less than 2014. There were 90 bands this year compared to 122 in 2014, which I think may have been the peak. I don’t know why Riot Fest is shrinking but I would suppose they are cutting overhead for more profit. It may also have to do with the untimely death of Riot Fest co-founder Sean McKeough late last year. His co-founding partner Mike Petryshyn cited the canceling of the Denver edition of Riot Fest his year as a direct result of McKeough’s death as he did not feel he could manage two festivals this year without McKeough’s assistance. They are also catering a bit more to the VIP experience with more VIP areas including some cabana style “suites” set up near the main stages. Even at 90 bands, that is still way more than anyone can see in a three day period. Riot Fest is still one of the more reasonably priced rock music festivals around, so if cutting acts and stages helps keep the cost down, I’m not going to complain about it. The only thing I did miss is the having two small stages side-by-side. This year, there was just one small stage, The Heather Owen Stage. I do like that little remote corner of the grounds. Most of the early sets on the small stages are just 30 minutes. So with two stages, I would sometimes get to see four bands in two hours. With one stage, there is some down time between acts, so it was not quite the same experience as past years.

Time – For the most part, the bands respected the time and started and ended on time. While that is the norm by today’s standards, I can still remember going to concerts in the 70’s when bands either had no respect for start times, or the start times were non-existent. So I am always appreciative the professionalism of today’s Rock shows.

Services – A couple of big improvements this year. First and foremost, the Water Station was vastly improved. In the past, they ran a hose from one of the park water fountains and hooked up several satellite water fountains to the hose. That really cut the water pressure and made it very slow to fill up water bottles and it resulted in long lines and long waits. This year, they added a product called Quench Buggy. It is a portable filtered tank and once hooked up to a hose, the filled tank creates it’s own pressure so fill ups go considerably faster. And the dispensers are also bottle filler designed (along with some fountains) so that also makes it easier and faster. Given the heat we had to deal with this year, this new system could not have been more timely. The other cool thing was that they had beer vendors walking around the stage areas selling cold beer. I did not avail myself to their services as I prefer draught beer so I always made the walk to the All Rise tent, but nice to see that they had that option. Clean up was always good throughout the day. The grounds only start getting trashed later in the evening when attendance is at it’s peak and it’s too crowded and dark for the crew to do an effective job. Otherwise, they do an outstanding job.

Drinks – The All Rise Brewery which was started by the late Sean McKeough, was again the selected brewery for draught beers. I drank Wonder Beer all weekend which is a delicious APA and I believe named after the Naked Raygun song. I also enjoyed chatting with servers who were just awesome.

Food – As I have mentioned before, if you are a foodie, there is a lot to sample. I’m not so much of a foodie and at Riot Fest, I eat just once a day to get refueled.  Last year, I really liked the Guinness mac and cheese with pulled pork from Mrs. Murphy and Son’s Irish Bistro. I was disappointed that they did not have it this year. So instead, I tried their banger sandwich. It was bad, as the bread fell apart. I then discovered that Reggie’s had mac and cheese with pulled pork and with some added BBQ sauce and giardiniera, it was the perfect combination of carbs and protein to keep me going each and every day. 

Amusements & Shopping – There is the circus attractions and the vendors selling clothing and various wares. I walked around the vending area a bit. The coolest t-shirt I saw was one that mimicked the 1980’s Chicago White Sox logo but instead of a baseball bat, the character was holding a microphone and mike stand and it said “RIOT” where it would otherwise say “SOX.”

Exercise – According to my smart phone, I walked an average of 6.4 miles per day. On the other hand, I had a Riot Fest hangover and sucked in my Monday night racquetball league following the festival. But it was all worth it.

CTA – Wonderful again! The Blue and Pink Lines provided plenty of trains with little wait.

Neighborhood – I enjoyed walking through the Douglas Park area in the old West Side neighborhood of Lawndale.  Upon arrival each day, I walked up California Avenue on the edge of Little Village, and when returning each evening, I would walk down Kedzie Ave. through the South Lawndale neighborhood. Kedzie was more lively with neighbors selling food in their front yards. On Sunday night, I stopped by a small church on Kedzie for a Polish sausage and fries and ate the food under the “L” station at Kedzie and 21st while watching Riot Fest fans funnel into the station.

Crowd – The Riot Fest crowd is always awesome. I did not see anyone that was causing trouble or that looked over-the-top wasted. Just a great community of “Punks” hanging together for three days of music and fun.

Style – There were some great Punk styles this weekend including some awesome spiked Mohawk hairstyles. My favorite hair was the young lady with the watermelon hair. It was green on the sides, pinkish red on top, and it had little black “seed” spots at symmetrical points on top. I wish I had gotten a picture of it. It was very cool. Not that I’m stylish by any stretch, but for me, it was the second year in a row that I had to abandon my pseudo-Punk attire in favor of dry-fit shorts and t-shirts for comfort in the heat.

Thanks!!! – Reiterating from last year, I want to say thanks to all the bands that came to our fine city. Thanks to all the park maintenance crews, vendors, paramedics, and security, and much thanks to the Chicago Police and Fire Departments. Thanks also to Mayor Emanuel and the Lawndale City Council members for their cooperation and support. Thanks to St. Anthony Hospital and Mount Sinai Hospital for their three days of tolerance and for their dedication to caring for people. And most of all, thanks to the Douglas Park neighbors for allowing us “Rockers” to take over your park for 3 days during one of the finest seasonal times of the year in Chicago.

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If football is your passion, then make a real pastime around your interest with all the activity. This can be accomplished with out possibly environment foot around the area by actively playing dream baseball. Get a group of close friends, pick your squads and monitor their performances during the entire season.

An incredible interest for anyone would be fitness. You don t need to dread getting in condition. You could make it enjoyable by adjusting it from what you love doing, as a result rendering it a hobby rather than some grueling chore. It is possible to continue cycle trips or enjoy basketball with good friends.

There are various kinds of interests associated with tunes. You can consider vocal instruction if you like performing. Or, you might learn to play a music instrument. Ultimately, you may also learn how to change and mix music.Amaze your friends by having an improvised evening of songs and fun.

You may consume piece of art as your hobby. You may laugh and imagine that that s away from the desk as you absence pulling abilities. Nonetheless, you don t need to have to become surrealist painter. You may make abstract artwork or use a combination of paints to make interesting collages. No reason to avoid artwork just because adhere statistics control your sketchbook.

Seashell accumulating is a superb hobby that can give you fond remembrances of seashore vacation trips. Seashells might be educational for the kids and in addition make great elaborate highlights for that home.

Developing a interest is a fantastic way to keep your thoughts occupied and healthy. Expressing your pastime with others also gives you fun interpersonal opportunities. There is nothing like expending spare time carrying out anything you love. Utilize the guidance previously mentioned to improve on your own and look for a pastime you enjoy doing.

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