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travelerpavilion · 1 year

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13 things to do in Manchester

Manchester is my favourite city in the UK. It’s smaller and friendlier than London or Birmingham and has more of an indie, creative vibe. There are also so many things to do in Manchester thanks to the city’s rich industrial heritage, vibrant cultural scene, and world-famous football clubs.

Here are my favourite things to do in Manchester:

1. Explore Manchester’s Northern Quarter

This creative hub is filled with independent boutiques, vintage shops, record stores, and street art. Enjoy the vibrant atmosphere and grab a coffee in one of the trendy cafes. Make sure you check out the street art that adorns many of the buildings. Keep an eye out for the famous works of local and international artists like Akse, Qubek, and Nomad Clan. While you’re in Manchester’s Northern Quarter, you can’t miss a shopping trip to Afflecks, an iconic indie emporium. Spread over multiple floors, Afflecks is filled with independent retailers selling everything from vintage clothing and alternative fashion to artwork, records, and quirky gifts. The Northern Quarter is brimming with unique and independent shops. Discover vintage boutiques, record stores, art galleries, design shops, and bookshops. Some popular spots include Pop Boutique, Vinyl Exchange, Oklahoma, and Magma. The Northern Quarter is also home to lots of indie cafes, bars, and restaurants. Grab a coffee at one of the many independent coffee shops like Takk or Fig + Sparrow. Indulge in delicious street food at Mackie Mayor food hall or try innovative cocktails at bars like Science & Industry or Cottonopolis. Read More : BANFF ITINERARY: 4 DAYS IN THE CANADIAN ROCKIES If you’re visiting on the second Sunday of the month, the Northern Quarter Market is a great place to browse local crafts, vintage clothing, artisan food, and more. Enjoy live music and soak up the lively atmosphere. If you’re around for evening drinks then you won’t be disappointed in the Northern Quarter. Enjoy live music at venues like Band on the Wall or Night & Day Café. Explore the hidden speakeasies and cocktail bars like The Fitzgerald or The Whiskey Jar. Dance the night away at clubs like YES or Soup Kitchen. For cinema, comedy and theatre lovers, catch a film at the independent cinema, HOME, which showcases a mix of arthouse, classic, and mainstream movies. Enjoy live performances at the iconic Band on the Wall or the intimate, alternative theatre, The Eagle Inn. Check out venues like The Comedy Store or Frog and Bucket for a night of laughter and entertainment. Take a break from the bustling streets and unwind in Stevenson Square or the tranquil Cutting Room Square. These public spaces offer seating areas, greenery, and a place to relax and people-watch.

2. Catch a football match

Manchester and football go hand in hand so if you’re a football fan, watch a game at Old Trafford Stadium (home of Manchester United) or the Etihad Stadium (home of Manchester City). Even if you’re not a massive football fan, it’s worth going to witness the electric atmosphere. Tickets can sometimes be hard to come by so check out GO Sport Travel for some options.

3. Visit the Manchester Museum

Explore a diverse range of exhibits, including ancient Egyptian artefacts, natural history specimens, and interactive displays.

4. Explore the Science and Industry Museum

Learn about Manchester’s industrial revolution and scientific achievements through hands-on exhibits, vintage machinery, and interactive workshops.

5. Take a stroll in Heaton Park

This expansive park offers beautiful landscapes, woodlands, a boating lake, and various sports facilities. You can also visit the historic mansion, Heaton Hall which was built in the late 18th century for the Egerton family, who were prominent landowners in the area. Designed by architect James Wyatt, the mansion is a stunning example of neoclassical architecture. You can take guided tours of Heaton Hall to learn about its history, architecture, and the Egerton family. Look out for seasonal events and park activities while you’re there!

6. Discover the Manchester Art Gallery

Admire an extensive collection of artworks spanning centuries, including Pre-Raphaelite paintings, contemporary art, and decorative arts.

7. Visit the John Rylands Library

Marvel at the stunning Victorian Gothic architecture and explore the impressive collection of rare books and manuscripts. It feels like stepping into a Harry Potter film in here!

8. Explore Chinatown

Experience the vibrant atmosphere of Manchester’s Chinatown with its traditional Chinese arch, authentic restaurants, and Chinese supermarkets. The main entrance to Manchester’s Chinatown is marked by a beautiful traditional Chinese arch, known as the Chinese Imperial Arch. It’s a great spot to take photos and serves as a symbolic gateway into the neighbourhood. Chinatown is filled with a wide variety of Chinese restaurants and eateries. You can indulge in traditional dishes such as dim sum, Peking duck, Sichuan cuisine, and more. It’s also fun to visit Chinatown’s supermarkets and shops. You can find a range of imported goods, Asian ingredients, spices, teas, snacks, and other products. It’s a great place to shop for Asian groceries and explore the unique offerings. If you’re in Manchester for the Lunar New Year then Chinatown is the place to be. Chinatown hosts vibrant celebrations during Chinese New Year. The streets come alive with dragon and lion dances, traditional music and performances, fireworks, and street food stalls. It’s a fantastic time to experience the festive atmosphere and cultural traditions.

9. Enjoy live music

Manchester has a thriving music scene, known for its rich musical heritage. Catch a concert at iconic venues like the O2 Apollo, Manchester Arena, or Band on the Wall.

10. Go shopping

If you love shopping then Manchester will be a dream for you. Explore the high-end stores at the Trafford Centre or wander through the Arndale Centre, one of the largest shopping centres in the UK. If you prefer vintage stores and boutiques then stick to the shops I mentioned above in the Northern Quarter.

11. Explore the Manchester Cathedral

Admire the stunning architecture of this mediaeval cathedral and attend one of the regular choral performances or concerts.

12. Visit the Whitworth Art Gallery

Enjoy contemporary art exhibitions, sculpture displays, and beautiful gardens surrounding this gallery located in Whitworth Park.

13. Manchester’s nightlife

Last, but not least, is a mini guide to Manchester’s nightlife because you can’t visit Manchester without a big night out! Deansgate Locks is always a good place to start. Located near Deansgate train station, Deansgate Locks is a popular nightlife area with a variety of bars and clubs housed in converted railway arches. It offers a bustling atmosphere and is a favourite spot for locals and visitors alike. Manchester’s Gay Village, centred around Canal Street, is renowned for its vibrant LGBTQ+ nightlife. There are loads of bars and clubs with a welcoming and inclusive atmosphere. The Northern Quarter is not only a hub for independent shops and cafes but also boasts a thriving nightlife scene. It is known for its eclectic mix of bars, live music venues, and speakeasy-style cocktail bars. If live music is your thing then head to iconic venues like the O2 Apollo and Manchester Arena as well as smaller intimate spaces like Band on the Wall and Soup Kitchen. You can catch performances by local and international artists across various genres. If you want to dance until daylight then opular clubs include Warehouse Project, Gorilla, Hidden, and the famous Hacienda nightclub (reopened as a new venue). These clubs host regular DJ sets, themed nights, and special events. The Comedy Store, Frog and Bucket, and The Comedy Store Manchester are well-known venues that offer regular shows. These are just a few of the many things you can do in Manchester. The city offers something for everyone, whether you’re interested in history, culture, sports, or entertainment. Read the full article

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ledenews · 2 years

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Serene Dignity: Marian Anderson’s True First Wheeling Performance

Serene Dignity: Marian Anderson’s True First Wheeling Performance “Sometimes racial prejudice is like a hair across your cheek. You can't see it, you can't find it with your fingers, but you keep brushing it because the feel of it is irritating.”-Marian Anderson Marian Anderson was one of the world's greatest contralto singers. She toured the planet as a musical ambassador, the toast of monarchs, musical heavyweights, and citizens of every race, while in her own country, she remained a second-class citizen. But did you know that before the critical incident that guaranteed her immortality, she visited "Jim Crow" Wheeling as a guest of the Blue Triangle branch of the Y.W.C.A. and Madison School? Before we get to that, let's go back to the future. To Thee We Sing - 1939 On a brisk Easter Sunday, April 9, 1939, a celebrated African American Contralto vocalist named Marian Anderson stepped up to a bank of microphones just down the steps from the marble feet of Abraham Lincoln at the “Great Emancipator’s” monument in Washington, D.C. – then a segregated city. She was visibly nervous due to the large crowd. “The murmur of the vast assemblage quickened my pulse beat,” she would later write. But as her Finnish piano accompanist, Kosti Vehanen, began to play, Ms. Anderson closed her eyes and powerfully sang the first words of “My Country Tis of Thee” to an audience of 75.000 people and millions more on radio (including 10 year old Martin Luther King, Jr.). In the third line of the familiar song, she changed “I” to “we,” a small decision that amplified her beliefs in a large way. Already a world-renowned singer, Anderson had performed at Carnegie Hall in New York, and Orchestra Hall in Chicago. She’d visited Scandinavia where she met Vehanen and began a lifelong friendship with the composer Julius Christian Sibelius who wrote and rewrote songs for her. She sang at London’s Wigmore Hall and elsewhere in Europe, receiving wide acclaim while avoiding the ugly racism she encountered in her own country. When she’d returned home, she’d been hosted by Albert Einstein after she’d been refused a room at a New Jersey hotel. In fact, Anderson was only singing at the Lincoln Memorial because the Daughters of the American Revolution, citing a “white-performers only” policy, had denied an effort to have her perform at Constitution Hall. This caused First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt and thousands of others to resign from the D.A.R. “I am in complete disagreement with the attitude taken in refusing Constitution Hall to a great artist,” Roosevelt wrote. “You have set an example which seems to me unfortunate, and I feel obliged to send in to you my resignation. You had an opportunity to lead in an enlightened way and it seems to me that your organization has failed.” Roosevelt also announced her views in her nationally syndicated newspaper column, thrusting the D.A.R. controversy into the national limelight. Even as the NAACP and labor unions like the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters (in her autobiography, Ms. Anderson wrote about her many excursions in "Berth 13," the train car designated for African Americans) and other groups pushed back, the D.C. Board of Education refused to allow Anderson to perform in the city at a white public high school. Asked to comment on the controversy, Ms. Anderson replied: "I'm shocked to be barred from the capital of my own country after having appeared in almost every other capital of the world.” That may have been a scripted response for the press. In her 1956 autobiography, Ms. Anderson wrote about the denial of the Hall: “I was saddened, but as it is my belief that right will win I assumed that a way would be found. I had no inkling the thing would become a cause célébre…I was saddened and ashamed. I was sorry for the people who had precipitated the affair. I felt their behavior stemmed from a lack of understanding.” Finally, the Roosevelts and Walter White of the NAACP encouraged Secretary of the Interior Harold L. Ickes to arrange the Easter concert at the Lincoln Memorial. In his introduction, Ickes said, “In this great auditorium under the sky, all of us are free. Genius, like justice, is blind. Genius draws no color lines.” Philadelphia born Marian Anderson, the granddaughter of a slave, went on to perform beautifully for 25 minutes to a mixed race audience in the Nation’s Capital during the height of the era of “Jim Crow” segregation. "I could not run away from this situation,” Anderson would later write. “If I had anything to offer, I would have to do so now.” See newsreel footage of the event. See a clip of the PBS documentary Voice of Freedom, The Lincoln Memorial Concert. Wheeling - 1932 Remarkably, the Wheeling Blue Triangle (segregated) branch of the Y.W.C.A. was able to bring Marian Anderson to town seven years prior to her world famous Lincoln Memorial performance. Ms. Anderson -- who had been barred from white music schools, honing her craft by singing at churches and Y.W.C.A. branches as a child before studying under Giuseppe Boghetti – visited Madison School’s auditorium for a January 1932 concert. It was part of the Zou Hastings Frazier Memorial series, and Anderson was accompanied by pianist William King. The Frazier series was a Y.W.C.A. girls’ scholarship fund set up by New Yorker Fred Frazier in memory of his wife, “an esteemed Wheeling woman” life member of the Y.W.C.A., and former organist and singer at Fourth Street Methodist Church (Register, 06-12-20 and 10-11-27). Once again appearing in a town where she would not have been welcome in white-owned hotels, restaurants, or stores, Ms. Anderson performed with aplomb. Proclaimed by the Intelligencer as “the most outstanding colored singer in the country, and many critics say in the world,” she had just completed her triumphant tour of Europe, including Germany, Norway, Sweden, Finland, and London. “She possesses a contralto voice of rare, velvet quality of a remarkable range. Every song which she sang demonstrated more thoroughly the unusual powers which are hers and the splendid training she has had in America and Europe. Her program was the sort to stir her audience to an almost un-American fervor of approval, Gallic in its voiced expression of pleasure.” She sang eloquently in French, German, and Italian as appropriate, performing works by Handel, Donizetti, Mozart, Schubert, and Liszt. “She loves the old songs of her race,” the Intelligencer reported, “and there was a dramatic pride and appreciation of the talent of her people…” as she sang a number of Negro spirituals. For its part the Wheeling Register praised Ms. Anderson’s “serene dignity,” which matched “the simple naturalness of her singing manner, and she is gifted with a voice of rich, throaty timbre, impressive in its enormous range.” Ms. Anderson returned to Wheeling 27 years later in February 1959 as a guest of the Wheeling Symphony Orchestra, performing two sold-out shows (reportedly “the first complete sell-out for any concert in Wheeling’s musical history”-Register, 02-14-59) at the Virginia Theatre. The Register mistakenly billed it as “her first Wheeling appearance.” Constitution Hall -1943 Never bitter or angry about how she was treated in 1939, though she had every right to be, Anderson performed, at the invitation of the D.A.R., at Constitution Hall in 1943 to benefit the Red Cross during the Second World War. “I forgave the DAR many years ago,” she explained. “You lose a lot of time hating people." Sixteen years later in 1955, Anderson became the first African-American to sing with the Metropolitan Opera in New York. She would go on to perform many more concerts, serve her country as a delegate to the United Nations Human Rights Committee, sing as a musical ambassador for the State Department in twelve Asian cities (1957), sing at JFK’s inauguration, sing at the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, support the Civil Rights Movement, and earn numerous prestigious awards including Presidential Medal of Freedom (1963), National Women's Hall of Fame (1973), United Nations Peace Prize (1977), Congressional Gold Medal (1977), Kennedy Center Honors (1978), and a Grammy Award for Lifetime Achievement (1991). But, most importantly, Marian Anderson inspired and continues to inspire millions to face obstacles and injustice with grace, courage, humility, and a dignified persistence. Her early Wheeling appearance reminds us that Jim Crow segregation did not make exceptions for talent or fame. Special Thanks to Erin Rothenbuehler who actually rediscovered the early Marian Anderson visit to Wheeling and did the spade work for this article. Sources: Anderson, M. My Lord, What a Morning : an Autobiography. Viking, NY. 1956. Blue Triangle Collection. YWCA Wheeling records by Young Women's Christian Association (Wheeling, W. Va.). OCPL Archives. Archives 2015-007. Brockell G. “’She sang with her eyes closed’: The concert at the Lincoln Memorial that changed America” Washington Post. April 9, 2019 Keiler, A. Marian Anderson : A Singer’s Journey. Scribner, NY. 2000. National Park Service, Marian Anderson and Constitution Hall, Lincoln Memorial, National Mall and Memorial Parks. https://www.nps.gov/articles/000/marian-anderson-and-constitution-hall.htm PBS. “Voice of Freedom.” AMERICAN EXPERIENCE: PBS Documentary. Season 33 Episode 2 | aired 12/21/21. https://www.pbs.org/video/voice-of-freedom-crx5pq/ Stamberg, S. “Denied A Stage, She Sang For A Nation.” NPR, May 21, 2019. https://www.npr.org/2014/04/09/298760473/denied-a-stage-she-sang-for-a-nation#:~:text=AquiethumblepersonAnderson,whomwewillneverknow. Wheeling Intelligencer: Friday, January 15th, 1932, pg 5; Tuesday, January 19th, 1932, pg 5; Friday, January 22nd, 1932, pg 4; Thursday, March 27th, 1958, pg 7; Monday, February 2nd, 1959, pg 15. Wheeling Register: Tues. Oct. 11, 1927; Sat., June 12, 1920; Sunday, September 14th, 1958, pg 52; Thursday, March 27th, 1958, pg 18; Sunday, February 1st, 1959, pg. 53; Saturday, February 14th, 1959, pg. 3; Thursday, February 19th, 1959, pg. 15; Monday, February 23rd, 1959, pg. 8. Zou Hastings Frazier Memorial of the Young Women's Christian Association. 1927-1953. Ohio County Public Library Archives. Archives 2010-022. Written by: Sean Duffy Read the full article

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luvjonezmusic-blog · 2 years

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Come check out the new comedy show started by ABH co-host @leehtillman debuting at @showbar.pdx this Thursday! . #repost • @leehtillman Good News with Lee H Tillman is a monthly event where Portland’s funniest comedians riff on the day's headlines. Sometimes it’s geopolitics and sometimes it’s celebrity gossip but it’s always hilarious. In January we have comedians @admpasi @ronniemackaroni and @mynipsdontlie taking the stage. Ticket are $15 and $17 at the door. Link in the bio. Lee H. Tillman (@freetillman) started his comedy career in Los Angeles, CA performing around Southern California. He is now based in Portland, OR where he performs all over the Pacific Northwest. He has performed at comedy festivals all over the United States including the Burbank Comedy Festival at Flappers where he was awarded “Best of Fest”, the Omaha Comedy Festival, and the Motor City Comedy Festival. While he has a low-key delivery, please do not mistake his laid-back delivery for complacency. There are surprises at every turn. Adam Pasi is a Portland comic who pretends to be from Seattle so he can confuse his friends on social media. He's afraid of dolls, loves his mom, and in 2016 he was crowned Portland's 3rd funniest person (he won first in 2019 and 2020 but he thinks bragging about 3rd is funnier) In the words of Billy Crystal, comedy is like taking somebody by the hand, guiding them through a dark forest and right when you get to the light where they feel safe, you smack em in the face with a shovel. That’s the epitome of what Ronnie Macaroni does. Neeraj Srinivasan is a first-generation Indian-American comedian from Boise now residing in Portland. He’s a co-host of Portland’s own DOUGH and PREACH comedy shows, and has performed at venues all over the West Coast such as Helium Comedy Club, Revolution Hall, The Comedy Store, and The Hollywood Improv. Neeraj was also dubbed one of Portland Mercury’s “Undisputable Geniuses of Comedy” in addition to being featured in IFC’s “Portlandia,” Treefort Music Festival, and Pacific Crest Comedy Festival. (at Show Bar at Revolution Hall) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm7UF2yyIJt/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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howwearestories · 5 years

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Thursday, August 15th we photographed Joyce Manor, Saves The Day and Awakebutstillinbed at Revolution Bar and Music Hall in Amityville, NY. The show was part of a summer U.S. tour which took the three bands throughout the Midwest and East Coast and ends this weekend in Asbury Park.

San Jose’s Awakebutstillinbed kicked off the show. Their latest release, What People Call Low Self-Esteem Is Just Seeing Yourself The Way Others See You, came out in February 2018 on Tiny Engines.

Saves the Day took the stage and played a fun set full of favorites from their 20+ year career including ‘Holly Hox, Forget Me Nots’, ‘A Drag in D Flat’, ‘Freakish’ and ‘Three Miles Down’. The New Jersey-based band released their most recent album, 9, last fall on Equal Vision Records.

Co-headliners Joyce Manor were up next. The band, based out of California, also put out a record last fall, Million Dollars to Kill Me, on Epitaph. They played a few songs from that album including ‘Think I'm Still In Love with You’, and ‘Wildflowers’, along with other highlights from their other four releases.

Check out more photos from the show on our Facebook page here.

All photos © Andy Jimenez/How We Are 2019

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motomamita · 2 years

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Anything Like Me

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie x Rockstar!Female!Reader

Summary: Eddie and (y/n) face off with their respective groups to see who is the best. The loser should receive a painful and pleasant punishment.

Warnings: +18, smut, degrading kink, enemies, dacryphilia, Mean!Eddie, spiting, hair pulling, slaping, cursing, alcohol use, unprotected sex, creampie, and idk.

A/N: This is the dirtiest thing I've written so far. I even got horny writing it. Enjoy!

Do not copy or translate this!

Teenage bands were very common in those days in big cities, but not in Hawkins. Most didn't last more than 3 months until something happened, fights between the members or sudden disinterest, and they ended up disbanding before achieving local recognition. The few that got any attention were groups made up of all men and only men. The only place women occupied was to be fans of them until they became the famous 'groupies'. It was a very well marked world in terms of genres, where rock and metal was the fashion dominated by men. While pop and classical music had only female exponents.

For these and more reasons, Bleach Blonde Babes was the revolution of the moment. Or at least in the small town of Hawkins. First, they were women playing instruments with the same experience and skill as boys their age. Second, their style stood out from the others. While the boys just had to grow their hair long and wear dark clothes, the girls created a whole movement with their characteristic appearance. Hair bleached to a white color; each of them with some highlights with their identifying color, unlike the vocalist who only wore it faded. heavy makeup; dark and elaborate eyeliners that complemented lipsticks in strong tones such as black or red. Although they wore dark clothes like most, she gave them her own touch by placing chains and combining it with reflective fabrics that looked wonderful with the stage lights. And finally; they were the only women who did rock, and they did it wonderfully.

They were known and approved of by the listening rock/metal public. The boys drooled and got hot for them. The girls wanted to be like them, imitating their style. Obviously outside that small world of rock, they, like the other bands, were seen as weirdos. Branded by others as satanic, dark and girls in need of attention. Despite everything the outside said about them, that was not going to stop them from achieving their dream. And that meant that just as they accumulated fans, they also made enemies.

Corroded Coffin were one of them.

Both groups were formed almost at the same time and in the same school. That made people not stop comparing them and creating a rivalry that little by little became a reality as they both grew up. They could not be seen in the school halls and, when they did, the insults and provocations were always present. Soon the same students began to choose sides, deciding to support their favorite and discredit the other. That fueled even more dislikes between the members of both groups. It was a constant war to prove who was the best band not only in the school, but also in Hawkins.

The only time where both could really show who was the best was once a year when the famous 'The Bands War' takes place in one of the bars in town. There, the few groups from Hawkins performed on a night where, taking into account the opinion of the judges and the public, the winning band of that year was named along with a good sum of money as a prize. Therefore, it was to be expected that this competitive environment would flourish with greater intensity now.

The school day was over. Most of the students had already left to go home to rest or to meet their friends at Starcourt Mall in the evening. The few that remained were for study groups and other extracurricular activities that required the use of the facilities.

(y/n) entered the small school theater carrying her heavy backpack on one side and her bicycle helmet on the other. Lisa, the guitarist; Courtney, the bassist; and Valerie, the drummer, were already there waiting for her on stage with their respective instruments.

"I'm here." She reported, vocalist, throwing her belongings on the floor next to the stage and climbing up to join the others.

"I hadn't noticed..." Valerie muttered sarcastically, getting an amused smile from Courtney who had managed to hear her.

"Why are you wearing a helmet?" Lisa asked starting to tune her guitar without taking her eyes off the newcomer.

"For security after what Hargrove did to me last week."

Like the members of Correded Coffin, the Bleach Blonde Babes girls were also victims of the 'pranks' carried out by the kings and queens of the school. Last week the victim of these pranks was (y/n). After school she rode home on her bike but was intercepted in the middle of the road by Billy Hargrove and his group of mindless apes. Billy thought it was a good idea to hit her lightly with his camaro, causing (y/n) to lose control and fall hard on the ground, taking a couple of bruises and scratches.

"Ugh! I hate that bag of steroids!" Courtney complained with a roll of her eyes. "I can't believe you almost fucked him at the New Year's Eve party, Valerie."

All eyes went to the drummer, who shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

"I don't think it's any worse than fucking Eddie Munson." Lisa added amused, making everyone laugh except (y/n).

Eddie and (y/n) had a short history but it meant something to both of them in the end. Years before they both created their respective bands, they used to be friends. They met at school and soon became inseparable. They spent hours listening to music and talking about their desire to enter the world of music. All that time led to them inevitably starting to have feelings for each other. Everything would change when Eddie abruptly distanced himself from (y/n) upon learning that she had also formed her own group. After a strong fight outside of Eddie's trailer, both ended their friendship, leaving not only complete strangers but also enemies. Despite that, the ashes of their friendship had remained and the tension between them was still valid even if they tried to deny it.

"Back to the topic." Lisa spoke again. "Why are you using a bicycle in the beginning? What happened to your car?" She addressed the vocalist again

(y/n) let out a loud sigh having to relive all the unfortunate events that happened in the last weeks of her life.

"Grumpy old Jim Hopper stopped me on the road after Trevor's party and asked for my driver's license which I left at home. Plus, he smelled alcohol on my breath and saw the beer cans Courtney left in my car. ." The girl spoke quickly with weariness in her voice. "They took my car and in theory I'm grounded for 3 months."

"That sucks." Lisa commented with a disgusted expression on her face.

"She already told us the reason last week, Li!" Valerie commented with a light laugh.

"What world are you in?" Courtney asked, slinging her bass on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. The thing is, I'm focused on practicing enough and winning 'The Bands War' again this year." A smile formed on everyone's face as they recalled their victory last year.

"Let's break those idiots' asses." (y/n) looked at each of her friends, who nodded excitedly.

(y/n) grabbed the microphone and spoke into it, testing the sound and quality of it. The others settled into their places, ready to receive the signal from the vocalist.

"Lets start with 'I Disagree'." The girls nodeed.

"I disagree with the way you continue to pressure me

I disagree, everything is going how it's meant to be

I disagree with the way you continue to pressure me"

The girl walked around the stage, singing with emotion while interacting with her companions. The presentations of Bleach Blonde Babes were characterized by the energy and strength they gave off. Those who saw her play ended up dancing to the rhythm of her songs or were inoptified by them, one of two or both.

"Down, let it all burn down

Burn it to the ground

We'll be safe and sound

When it all burns down

Let it all burn down

Burn it to the ground

We'll be safe and sound

When it all burns down"

(y/n) finished singing and they were soon interrupted by a series of loud applause and wild screams. Their attention went to the door of the theater, where Eddie Munson and his group had just entered with smiles from ear to ear.

"That was... disastrous!" Eddie exclaimed slowly stopping applauding and approaching the stage. "Seriously, girls. Every day you manage to sound worse than the last." His friends laughed and shook hands knowingly.

The girls shared glances, irritated at the unexpected arrival of the boys. They were always the ones who went to look for them to make fun of them, enjoying the moment.

"What do you want, Munson?" Lisa asked picking up her guitar.

"Nothing, we just came to visit you guys. It's always a pleasure to listen to your garbage which they call 'rock'." Eddie made an exaggerated gesture with his hands as he said 'rock'.

The other boys laughed at Eddie's words, boosting their ego and infuriating the girls who had already lost the courage to keep playing.

"Don't you have something better to do?" Courtney asked looking down at them. The boys stood in front of the stage while they were still on top of it.

"A bath would do them good. Their nasty smells carry all the way back here." Added Valerie from her drums, making her friends laugh.

Eddie rolled his eyes at the comment and decided to ignore it to focus his attention on (y/n). The girl had kept silent since their arrival, mostly to avoid being tempted to argue with them. However, Eddie knew very well which buttons to press to receive a reaction from her.

"(y/n)~" Eddie called her in a sing-song tone. "Talk to me~"

The girl turned to look at them with no expression on her face and walked slowly towards the end of the stage. In one of his hands she carried a bottle of water with which she had just hydrated her throat. She took his time swallowing in water, having everyone's eyes on her. Both groups knew that those who fought with greater intensity were Eddie and (y/n), for that same reason there was a certain tension and expectation in the environment.

"Looks like you weren't happy with last year's humiliation." She spoke quietly, hiding her mocking smile. Eddie didn't take his eyes off her, feeling a little small before her. "You always come back to us, Munson. I'm sure you must have a kink about being demoted, don't you?"

The girls giggled lightly, sharing amused and knowing glances with each other. Eddie settled on his seat, crossing his arms and decorating his face with the best expression of annoyance. His friends did the same waiting for their leader to respond to said taunt but he didn't, giving rise to (y/n) attacking again.

"Wasn't the beating we gave you last year enough? Second place suits you, kids." She made a fake sad pout looking at each of the boys. "I recommend that you get used to it because this year will not be very different." She confidently warned them.

Her friends nodded their heads, enjoying the way Eddie bit her inner cheeks and clenched his fists looking for a way to vent his annoyance.

(y/n) considered the argument won until she saw the change in expression on Eddie's face. He now wore a small smirk, one eyebrow raised, and his hands moved to his hips, straightening his back to look bigger

"Anyone wins if it's almost on tits." His gaze now settled on Courtney, who last year had shown up in a skimpy top that caught everyone's attention, especially the male judges. "Or if she makes out with her bandmate." His attention shifted from Lisa to (y/n), who had also drawn attention by sharing a passionate kiss in the middle of the song. "Everyone loves whores and lesbians." he blurted out bitterly.

"Why is it so hard for you to accept that we are better? It affects your fragile masculinity so much?" This time (y/n) spoke seriously, really interested in knowing the answer.

Eddie looked at her seriously for a matter of seconds. It seemed that inside his head he was struggling to answer honestly, to open up to his real feelings and get out of that strong man attitude that he himself had created so as not to be hurt by others. Sadly, he didn't and quickly changed the subject.

"I came to tell you that starting tomorrow you will have to practice half as long as usual." Eddie began to pace around the room with his head high and his hands behind his back.

"What? And why is that?" Valerie spoke for everyone confused.

"Because you will have to give us the theater so that we can also practice." Gareth join to the conversation from above one of the seats in the place.

"Impossible, the director said..."

"The director gave us some of her time here. So now you guys have to share and stop crying like spoiled little girls!" Eddie interrupted raising his voice and startling everyone.

"It's too little time to practice. No way..." (y/n) crossed her arms and shook her head.

"I'm so sorry but life is like that sometimes!" Eddie walked up to the stage, leaning on his forearms to get close to (y/n). "Or what are you going to do about it, cutie?" He muttered darkly, staring at the girl in front of him.

She was equally or more upset than her companions. They knew that it was all a plan by them to sabotage their practices. Corroded Coffin didn't need the theater to play since they already played at Gareth's house. On the contrary, they did not have an established physical place to do it except the school theater. Such a move on their part was merely cruel and unfair.

(y/n) knew there was no way to remedy that. They must adapt or panic, and the latter was not within their options. What's more, they saw that as an invitation to give even more of themselves despite the unforeseen news. A test that they were going to overcome and that, in some way, would show Corroded Coffin that they were not going to give up so easily.

The vocalist nodded her head slowly, looking at a dead center of the theater as she brought the bottle of water to her mouth and drank without swallowing the liquid. She looked down at Eddie, admiring her with her big brown eyes that were like a puppy's looking for attention. (y/n) knelt on the ground, facing him and a few centimeters away. Their gazes did not move, each taking in the color of the eyes and the hot breath of the other. She laughed lightly without opening her mouth, already happy with the idea that had just crossed her mind. Eddie frowned in confusion and before he could react to realizing what was going to happen, (y/n) spit the water that was in her mouth seconds ago in his face. The boy's face was completely soaked, as were his bangs and part of his The Hell Fire Club shirt. Eddie kept his eyes closed for a few moments, clamping his mouth shut as the warm liquid trickled down his skin. The girls let out exaggerated laughter at what happened, congratulating (y/n) who had stood up again and grabbed the microphone again, ready to get back to practice. Some of the members of Corroded Coffin had the reflex to laugh but had to hide it to avoid being punished by Eddie, who wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

"I think you're going to need a bath now more than ever, Munson." (y/n) commented amused through the microphone

Eddie took a few steps back and finished wiping his face even though drops were still falling from his bangs. A simple look at his friends was enough for them to start walking towards the exit of the theater. It seemed that (y/n) had managed to get the words out of the guitarist's mouth, however he spoke again.

"I heard what happened with Hargrove the other day. It's a shame he didn't hit you harder." The words came out through his teeth, in the form of a mumbled out of the rage of the moment. "Nice bike, by the way. If I were you I'd be more careful riding the desolate roads, lest someone want to do Hargrove's job well." He threatened to walk backwards, never taking his eyes off (y/n) until he reached the door and was lost in the corridors.

The theater fell into a tense silence at Eddie's words. Various rumors were associated with him and his 'satanic group'. They knew that this was all lies and that this group was for D&D players. However, it was not to be ignored that the boy could be dark and intimidating if he wanted to.

(y/n) swallowed hard at Eddie's words. Was he capable of carrying out such a threat? She didn't know, and didn't want to find out. What I knew was that everything around 'The Bands Wars' was getting out of hand and becoming an obsession for everyone. However, she didn't care either because her thirst for success was much greater.

"Sick..." Valerie muttered breaking the silence.

The practice continued without major interruptions. At the end of their established schedule at the theater, the girls grabbed their belongings and said goodbye and then each returned to their respective homes.

(y/n) walked to where her bike was parked, or well now part of it. As soon as she saw it, she knew who the culprits were. One of the wheels was missing while the other was punctured by more than a dozen nails. The handlebars were bent forward and the pedals were gone. The icing on the cake was that what was left of the bike was now on fire.

"Fucked the shit out of me…" The girl muttered looking at the flames that were burning strongly.

Luckily for her, minutes later Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, who had just left after their day at the school newspaper, made their presence in the parking lot. (y/n) knew them from the times they had interviewed the Bleach Blonde Babes about their musical dreams. They were nice to each other, but they weren't friends. Nancy offered to drive her home while Jonathan jumped at the opportunity to photograph the burning bike for publication the following day under the title 'Vial Bandalism'. (y/n) gladly accepted both issues, especially the mention it would have in the school newspaper; dissemination would do them good.

'The Bands War' had arrived

The bar was packed with people. The music was playing all over the place and the drinks kept coming out of the bar towards the tables. In the backstage all bands were gathered, talking or practicing despite the loud noise due to the number of people there.

Bleach Blonde Babes were already there, dressed and ready to do their best on stage. Like them, Corroded Coffin were gathered in the other corner of the room sharing jealous glances from time to time with the girls. They still did not know the order in which they were going to appear and that made everyone anxious.

(y/n) took advantage of the free minutes they had before everything started and separated to go to the bathroom to relieve themselves and check their wardrobe for the last time. She had decided to wear the same black top that Courtney had worn last year but now it was a little smaller and looked more like a bra. To that she had added a black choker that had a chain that fell around her waist where her black leather skirt began. Part of her legs were covered with fishnet stockings and high boots with studs on them. It was probably the most risky outfit she'd ever worn before. She looked sexy and sassy, and she loved it.

She gave the final touches to her makeup before walking out the door and into the dark hallway. Strong hands grabbed her bare waist and pinned her against one of the brick walls. (y/n) was about to scream but she could make out the face close to her among the neon lights, too close.

"What do you want, Munson?"

She didn't try to wriggle out of the boy's grasp because she liked the contact and the way his ringed fingers touched her skin. His closeness was magnetic and intoxicating, like a rush of adrenaline. Eddie could say the same for her, relaxed now that she hadn't tried to push him away. The sexual tension increased considerably, on the one hand because of the whole environment that surrounded him and on the other because they really felt something for each other.

"I came to give you a good luck kiss." He spoke in a hoarse voice as his eyes went to the girls red lips.

(y/n) could instantly make out the smell of beer on the boy's breath. Eddie had drunk before but he wasn't completely drunk. The alcohol had given him that confidence to approach her and tell her the things that in another situation he would never have dared to do. It was just what he needed to propose his wish to her.

She couldn't help biting her lower lip in the excitement of the moment. Eddie sighed loudly at the image, feeling the warmth spread to other parts of his body.

"I thought you wanted to run me over with your car." She murmured mimicking his action and giving her attention to the boy's full lips.

Eddie laughed lightly, shaking his head as he brought his body closer to hers, leaving her with no way out. He brought one of his hands up to her neck and gave it a slight squeeze causing her to let out a low moan. A smirk formed on Eddie's face at the girl's submission and the effect it had on her.

Strangely (y/n) liked the way Eddie had it. She liked how badly he treated her at school and now in the rough and indelicate way he touched her body. She wanted to be at his mercy and used as he pleased. Maybe what she told Eddie about the kink of being demoted was more about her than him.

"So eager…" Eddie brushed his lips dangerously. (y/n) tried to get closer and kiss him but his grip on her neck prevented it. "I have other better things to do to you..."

The presenter's voice interrupted them. The contest was about to begin and their respective partners wondered where they were both.

"I have to go, there's a contest I have to win." (y/n) placed her hands on Eddie's chest and tried to push but to no avail; he was stronger.

"Are you really so sure they'll win?" he asked with amusement.

"Evidently." She answered immediately.

"Then I imagine you wouldn't mind making a little deal with me."

"I'm all ears."

"If Bleach Blonde Babes wins, you can do whatever you want to me." Eddie slowly lowered his hand from the girl's neck to the chain of her choker where he slightly tugged on it. "But if Corroded Coffin wins..."

"Deal."

Eddie smiled widely, separating from the girl until his back hit the opposite wall. They shared glances before (y/n) straightened her clothes and headed backstage, feeling Eddie's intense gaze behind her.

"Now I'm going to ask everyone for a warm welcome to the next band!" The public obeyed, eager to know who would be the next to take the stage. "Beautiful, talented and last year's winners! Please welcome the Bleach Blonde Babes!"

The applause and shouts did not wait; everyone was excited to see the performance of the champions. The girls took to the stage and took their places, waving slightly to their acquaintances in the audience and feeling the gaze of the competition.

The song they had chosen to play was different from the ones they were used to presenting in contests like this. It started out slow and ramped up to the rock/metal that everyone loved, then slowed back down to the bridge. It was a risky choice but they had nothing to lose by trying. In addition, the letter was very well accommodated to the whole situation.

(y/n) grabbed the microphone with both hands and fixed her gaze on a point in the audience, meeting those brown eyes she knew so well. Eddie gave her a half smile that she responded in the same way and then looked at her companions, who nodded their heads ready to start.

The lights dimmed and the music began to play.

"I feel her heart beating in me

Get her out of me"

Progressively the battery increased its intensity along with the guitar and bass. The public began to shake their heads, curious at the beginning of the song.

"Sorry for what I've become

Because I'm becoming someone

Your hand on my neck, you call up the press

Die for the attention"

The vocalist began to move around the stage, enjoying the music and giving her all, just like her companions. The public loved them and it was evident that they were exceeding their expectations. However, right after the chorus of the song things started to go wrong.

"You shouldn't be anything like me

You shouldn't be anything like me

You'll never be anything like me

You shouldn't be anything like me"

The sound began to fail, lowering her microphone to the maximum and making it impossible for her voice to be heard. Her companions also had problems. The strings on Lisa's guitar and Courtney's bass were out of tune, not to mention the cymbals on Valerie's drums were, too.

The girls continued with their presentation regardless of the failures until the end. Coming down from the stage, everything was chaos and annoyance among the group. Someone had sabotaged them. And that someone was about to go on stage to play with his band.

Corroded Coffin put on an excellent show, surprising everyone with the improvement compared to last year and how well everything went compared to the previous group. That is why there were no surprises when they were named as the winners of that year.

"What a shit." Lisa muttered putting away her things, ready to leave and forget that failed night.

"All I need right now is a good shot of vodka and sleep until my back is part of the mattress." Courtney spoke with the same bitterness as her friend.

"I need a good fuck. Maybe I'll call Hargrove." The friends looked at Valerie in disgust at her comment.

The backstage was almost empty by this time of night. The vast majority had already packed their things and gone home after losing to Corroded Coffin, who were still in the bar enjoying their victory.

"I'm leaving, are you coming with us?" Lisa approached (y/n) who was sitting on top of one of the many boxes backstage.

"No. I'm going to stay a while longer." She muttered looking at the ground

"Okay. We'll be waiting for you in the parking lot."

The 3 girls left, leaving (y/n) alone for a matter of seconds until the door opened again. The girl looked up to meet his again.

"You sabotaged us. It's not fair." (y/n) broke the silence without moving from her place yet.

The boy locked the door behind him, making sure no one entered the room and leaving them alone. Eddie made a small mocking pout at her.

"Really? Poor little fool, she's sad that we beat them."

Eddie began to walk slowly towards the girl without taking his eyes off her. (y/n) didn't flinch at his words or his actions. What's more, both of them had ignited something in they that was inexplicable.

"You lost, and I won." He dropped the bag of money, letting it fall to the ground under the girl's intense gaze. "The deal still stands, doesn't it little one?"

The girl looked up at his face, which was expressionless. After a few seconds, (y/n) nodded her head making Eddie laugh slightly. The weather got heavy in that room from one second to the next.

(y/n) had no idea what Eddie was going to do to her but was intrigued. She knew that she could be getting into a very dark place that he would have a hard time getting out of if she wasn't careful. However, that feeling of doing something forbidden and dangerous pushed her to want to find out.

"Kneel." (y/n) opened her mouth but was interrupted by Eddie. "Shut up, I don't want to hear you. Kneel down now." His words were severe.

(y/n) obeyed and slowly knelt in front of him with her hands in her lap. The cold ground slammed into her knees and the fishnet stockings that would leave marks on her skin the next morning. She kept her gaze on the ground until Eddie's large hand roughly grabbed her hair and forced her to look up. The girl let out a gasp that came out more like a moan of pleasure in response to the boy's indelicate action.

"Fucking bitch." Eddie muttered before hitting her on the cheek with his hand.

Tears of pain and pleasure began to form in the girl's eyes. Eddie got even more turned on by that, enjoying the position of power and control over her.

Another blow landed on the same cheek, this time with greater force than the last.

"You really thought you were going to beat me, huh?" Another hit. "Sluts like you get nothing but punishment for disrespecting me." Another hit.

"Eddie-"

"I told you to shut up. Is it so hard for you to understand that?" (y/n) shook her head as best she could, still feeling Eddie's tight grip on her scalp.

Again Eddie hit the girl's cheek again. Her skin was red and irritated from the abuse while tears kept coming out of her eyes that little by little joined the black eyeliner and fell towards her neck.

"Open."

(y/n) opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue at the command. Eddie spat on her, letting his saliva meet her mouth. The girl moaned loudly as she felt the warm fluid in her mouth, savoring the combination of beer and cigarettes in it.

"Enjoy it like the bitch you are." They both laughed lightly. "Do you like it? Tell me how much you like it." Eddie muttered, tightening his hold on her hair.

"I love it, Eddie. You taste so good!" Eddie sighed at the need in her voice.

She clenched her thighs, searching for any friction that would satisfy her needs. Her underwear was already soaked with her fluids and her core was on fire with arousal.

"So naughty!" Eddie laughed out loud hearing her and noticing what she was doing under her skirt. "I'm sure you're going to love this."

With his free hand Eddie removed his belt and pants. His boxers squeezed his erection in a tortuous way for him, so much so that he had even stained it with his pre-seminal fluid. Still holding her hair, he pulled down his boxers, releasing his huge, throbbing, needy cock.

(y/n) lost her breath for a few seconds when she saw what was in front of her. It was definitely going to hurt a lot.

"Let's see what that slutty mouth of yours can do." Eddie muttered bringing his hands to either side of her head.

She sucked in a breath before he mercilessly plunged his cock into her mouth. Her hands went to his thighs looking for some kind of support against the thrusts she was receiving. The tip of his cock pounded senselessly against the bell in her throat, generating an unbearable choking sensation. (y/n) moaned at that, sending vibrations all over Eddie's cock. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes tightly, enjoying the sensation.

"Your mouth is so wet and warm…" He groaned hoarsely. "It makes me want to leave my dick in there forever."

Saliva began to trickle down to her chin, inevitably reaching Eddie's balls. The taste of Eddie's saliva in his mouth began to mix with the taste of precum that was beginning to leak from the tip of his cock. (y/n) was able to feel the large veins on her tongue and palate, paying special attention to them with her tongue.

Eddie let out a moan of pleasure, then out of her mouth. The girl desperately gasped for air as tears continued to fall from her eyes, arousing Eddie even more.

"Keep crying, keep crying that makes me so horny." Eddie wiped away the tears with his thumb, smeared with black eyeliner. "I love to see you suffer."

With one of his hands he grabbed his hard cock and massaged himself for a few seconds without taking his eyes off her face. His free hand returned to the girl's irritated cheeks, forcing her to open her mouth and stick out her tongue. She obeyed and Eddie began to lightly tap the tip of his cock on her tongue, producing a pornographic sound.

"You're a bloody mess, little one." He whispered without taking his eyes off her attentive to all her expressions. "You deserve to taste my cum."

Without giving her time to react, Eddie put his dick back into (y/n)'s mouth. The thrusts were much more violent and fast, all with the intention of making him cum as fast as possible. His balls banged against her chin, aching and needing to release their fluid. (y/n)'s chest rose and fell from lack of air and her moans didn't stop vibrating over his length. Eddie's navel contracted and with his hands he lowered the girl's head onto him, letting his pubic hair touch her face. Eddie came into her mouth with a grunt of pleasure.

"Swallow it all." He ordered with his ragged breath.

(y/n) obeyed, swallowing every last drop of the salty white liquid. They were both silent for a few moments, catching their breath and trying to process everything that had happened. She looked up to notice that he was watching her, still agitated and with a twinkle in his black eyes.

"Eddie-"

"That's not my name". He interrupted her. "You must address me as Master, is that clear?"

"Yes, Master." She nodded her head anxiously. "Master, please. Fuck me, please." She begged bringing one of her hands up her skirt and beginning to rub her clit through the fabric of her thong.

"Is that what you want?" he asked with a smile. "You want me to fuck that little slutty pussy of yours?"

"Please please-"

Eddie grabbed her tightly by the neck, almost choking her, and threw her on the box where minutes before she had been sitting. She was out of breath and before she knew it, Eddie was already behind her ready to fuck her right there. With his back to him, she could hear him spitting on her hand and massaging his cock for a few seconds. With his other hand he moved her underwear aside and when she thought he was going to penetrate her, a loud blow startled her. (y/n) gave a strangled moan as his palm collided with her swollen clit.

"Tell me what you want!" Another hit.

"Fuck me! Please, Master, I need to feel you inside me!" She cried in need of contact

"That's how I like it." He growled massaging her clit. "I'm going to destroy this damn cunt until there's nothing left of it."

Without warning or asking for permission, Eddie roughly penetrated her until he placed his entire cock inside her. (y/n) let out a small cry as she felt her walls open at the intrusion of his cock. It was too big and having him inside her generated such a pleasurable pain that she had never felt before.

"So small and tight." He moaned without moving yet, enjoying the tight feel on his cock. "If you weren't such a slut I could swear you were a virgin."

Eddie began to move fast and deep, causing (y/n) to moan loudly at the sensation. His cock moved smoothly inside her thanks to Eddie's saliva used as a lubricant and how aroused she was. She closed her eyes, focusing on the feel and the way his cock pounded against her cervix mercilessly. Eddie took one of his hands to the choker chain and wrapped it around (y/n)'s neck. Her back arched much more and it was difficult for her to breathe but Eddie didn't care because in the end he was using her for his own pleasure.

"Master! I can't breathe!" She reported still feeling how Eddie's thrusts wouldn't stop.

He completely ignored her and tightened the chain even more, smiling at the girl's desperation. (y/n)'s vagina tightened even more around Eddie's cock, giving him another level of pleasure. Little by little, he loosened his grip; allowing the girl to catch her breath while still ramming her. The girl regained her breath and with it her orgasm began to approach.

"Are you going to cum? Are you going to cum on my fucking cock?" Eddie asked excitedly to which she responded with several nodes.

Eddie jerked out of her, letting her walls constrict in midair and her orgasm fade. (y/n) leaned her forehead against the box and cried several times at the overwhelming situation. He opened a bottle of beer that had been left over and drank some of it, cooling his throat. He then grabbed her around the waist to turn her around so they were facing each other. He didn't think much of it and spat the beer in her face, the same way she had done with him weeks ago.

"Oh no! The little bitch is going to need a nice bath after I'm done with her." Eddie scoffed admiring the look of confusion on the girl's face.

Like a rag doll, Eddie picked her up and laid her down on the box, spreading her legs apart and inserting his cock into her center again. (y/n) by that point it was a disaster. Her makeup smudged from tears and beer. Her hair messy just like her clothes. Her fishnet stockings were already destroyed as well as her thong, which was lying on the floor of the place. Pure nonsense babble came out of her mouth thanks to the sheer amount of pleasure Eddie was giving her.

"Master! Master!" She screamed frantically as the tip of Eddie's cock touched her G-spot.

"Shut. The. Fucking. Mouth." Eddie penetrated her strongly after each word, further stunning the girl who did not stop moaning. "You leave me no other damn choice."

Eddie took the bandana off his head and then placed it over (y/n)'s mouth. Shutting her up and almost drowning her with the cloth.

"Much better." He laughed wickedly and resumed his movements again.

He penetrated her hard and considering only her pleasure. (y/n)'s eyes filled with tears and Eddie took in her face and the way her breasts bounced under her black tank top. They were both hot and it showed in the way their bodies reacted to each other's touch.

The room was filled with the noise of their skins clashing with each thrust, Eddie's growls and (y/n)'s crying. Beads of sweat adorned Eddie's face, wetting his bangs and part of his tank top. The area where their bodies joined was sticky and wet from the fluids of both, especially those of (y/n). Their bodies were on fire again, burning from the ashes that had remained of their friendship years ago.

Again the orgasm of (y/n) was present, narrowing her walls and making it impossible to stop the moans through the bandana. Eddie was also close by the way his legs trembled and his thrusts began to get wilder.

"Shit, shit. I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum inside your pussy." He cursed in his broken voice.

Eddie took one of his hands to the girl's hip while the other took the bandana out of her mouth and went to her neck, squeezing it firmly. Sweet moans escaped from (y/n)'s mouth as he wrapped his hands around Eddie's wrist, feeling the cool rings on his skin.

"Here it comes, here it comes. Take it all like my little whore." He spoke desperately. "Whose cunt is this, huh? Who does this delicious cunt belong to?"

"To you, Master. My pussy is all yours!"

He came when he heard the girl's words, that being the trigger for her orgasm as well. The hot liquid invaded her interior and soon began to spill out and dirty their thighs. Eddie stayed inside her for a few seconds until he decided to get out and appreciate the glorious image in front of him.

(y/n) remained in place without moving, recovering his breath after everything that had happened. With her eyes still closed, she could feel Eddie wipe the cum off his legs with something. Opening her eyes she found him cleaning it with one of the 100 dollar bills that had been given to her as a prize. She couldn't help but laugh, infecting Eddie who shook his head slightly.

He helped her with her clothes, combing her faded hair with her fingers and wiping her face with her own bandana. Very sweet and delicate actions considering that he had been the one who left her that way. Neither said a word until it was time to leave.

"I think the two of us have a lot to talk about." Eddie looked at her now with his big, sweet brown eyes. "You know, from the past."

"Ok." She whispered, according to whatever Eddie decided.

"Come with me, I'll take you home again." He held his hand out to her, referring to his house in the trailer park.

Maybe losing that night wasn't as bad as she thought.

#eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #dark!eddie munson #rockstar!au #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson smut #Spotify

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zheniakirsikkalove · 2 years

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youtube

NEWS! VV / NEON NOIR TOUR 2023

(Ville Valo - Heartagram)

Tickets

VV ANNOUNCES EUROPEAN AND US HEADLINE TOUR FOR 2023 General sale: April 11, 2022 (Europe) 10:00AM CET / April 15, 2022 (US) 10:00AM local time

JAN 13, 2023 Tavastia, Helsinki (FI)

FEB 14, 2023 Proxima, Warsaw (PL)

FEB 15, 2023 Kwadrat, Krakow (PL)

FEB 16, 2023 Lucerna Music Bar, Prague (CZ)

FEB 17, 2023 Huxley’s, Berlin (DE)

FEB 18, 2023 Fabrik, Hamburg (DE)

FEB 20, 2023 Paradiso, Amsterdam (NL)

FEB 21, 2023 Batschkapp, Frankfurt (DE)

FEB 22, 2023 Komplex, Zurich (CH)

FEB 24, 2023 Razzmatazz, Barcelona (ES)

FEB 25, 2023 La Riviera, Madrid (ES)

FEB 26, 2023 Cineteatro Capitolio, Lisbon (PT)

FEB 27, 2023 Hard Club, Porto (PT)

MAR 02, 2023 Alcatraz, Milan (IT)

MAR 03, 2023 Backstage Werk, Munich (DE)

MAR 04, 2023 Barba Negra, Budapest (HU)

MAR 05, 2023 Arena, Vienna (AT)

MAR 07, 2023 Rockhal, Esch-sur-Alzette (LU)

MAR 08, 2023 LMH, Cologne (DE)

MAR 09, 2023 Le Trabendo, Paris (FR)

MAR 10, 2023 O2 Academy, Bristol (GB)

MAR 11, 2023 Rock City, Nottingham (GB)

MAR 13, 2023 Garage, Glasgow (GB)

MAR 14, 2023 O2 Ritz, Manchester (GB)

MAR 15, 2023 O2 Forum Kentish Town, London (GB)

APR 01, 2023 Theatre of the Living Arts, Philadelphia PA (USA)

APR 02, 2023 Big Night Live, Boston MA (USA)

APR 04, 2023 Roxian Theater, Pittsburgh PA (USA)

APR 05, 2023 House of Blues, Cleveland OH (USA)

APR 06, 2023 St. Andrews Hall, Detroit MI (USA)

APR 08, 2023 Bogarts, Cincinnati OH (USA)

APR 09, 2023 House of Blues, Chicago IL (USA)

APR 11, 2023 Varsity Theater, Minneapolis MN (USA)

APR 13, 2023 Summit Music Hall, Denver CO (USA)

APR 14, 2023 The Depot, Salt Lake City UT (USA)

APR 16, 2023 Ace of Spades, Sacramento CA (USA)

APR 17, 2023 The Fillmore, San Francisco CA (USA)

APR 18, 2023 Belasco, Los Angeles CA (USA)

APR 21, 2023 House of Blues, Las Vegas NV (USA)

APR 22, 2023 House of Blues, San Diego CA (USA)

APR 23, 2023 Van Buren, Phoenix AZ (USA)

APR 25, 2023 House of Blues, Dallas TX (USA)

APR 26, 2023 Aztec Theater, San Antonio TX (USA)

APR 27, 2023 House of Blues, Houston TX (USA)

APR 28, 2023 House of Blues, New Orleans LA (USA)

APR 30, 2023 House of Blues, Orlando FL (USA)

MAY 01, 2023 Revolution, Ft. Lauderdale FL (USA)

MAY 03, 2023 Buckhead Theatre, Atlanta GA (USA)

MAY 04, 2023 Brooklyn Bowl, Nashville TN (USA)

MAY 05, 2023 Underground, Charlotte NC (USA)

MAY 07, 2023 The Fillmore, Silver Spring MD (USA)

MAY 08, 2023 Irving Plaza, New York NY (USA)

#ville valo #ville valo 2022 #ville valo 2023 #heartagram #Youtube

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nationalharryleague · 4 years

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Valentine’s Day

Summary: Y/N receives a special candy gram on Valentine’s Day.

Genre: Valentine’s Day Fluff with Middle School Band Teacher!Harry

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Hi my valentines!!! There’s about 30 minutes left of Valentine’s Day for me and I finished this piece right in time!! Thank you to the angel herself @tbslenthusiast for beta reading this for me and I cant wait to hear what you all think!! More of my writing can be found in my Masterlist and I would love to hear some feedback!

***

Valentine’s Day was never fun for you. You dreaded this day every year.

Valentine's Day in a middle school was full of teddy bears and flowers purchased by someone’s mom and having to tell 12 year olds to stop kissing in the hallway. You also knew that you would be inevitably interrogated by your students about your love life before getting any of them to listen to your lesson about the industrial revolution.

And every year, your answer stayed the same.

“It is none of your business,” you would begin with a teasing sigh. “But if you all have to know, I am happily single.”

And every year, you were met with a chorus of disappointed whines.

Your students were always desperate to wiggle their way into your personal life, a side-effect of being one of the youngest teachers in the school. You were closer in age to them than to some of your coworkers and they took advantage of that fact constantly, creating an open and honest dialogue with their favorite history teacher.

“But do you have a crush, Miss Y/L/N?” Jenna, one of your favorite students, piped up this Valentine’s Day from the front row. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way she raised her eyebrow at you from her desk, inquisitive and adorably curious.

“How about this?” you started, raising your own eyebrow to match her’s. “I’ll tell you if I have a crush, if you can tell me why the printing press was so important to the industrial revolution.”

Your heart started to drop as you watched the massive smile stretch across her face, exposing a mouth full of braces with pink rubber bands. They weren't supposed to learn about the printing press for another week.

“It made information more affordable and easier to access which bridged the information gap between the rich and the poor,” she answered like she had the textbook right in front of her. She crossed her arms triumphantly and leaned back into her seat while the class oohed and ahhed around her, knowing she had kept up her end of their deal.

You felt your cheeks heat as your classroom descended into giggles as your flustered face. “Nice job, smarty pants,” you let out with a nervous giggle.

“Remember, honesty is the best policy,” another student shouted out, pointing towards the poster on the wall of your classroom next to the world map that read the same saying.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you conceded, raising your hands in surrender to the classroom full of seventh graders. “I do have a crush.”

Your students erupted at your admission. Whos, whats, wheres, whens, and whys were thrown out by the class, but only a gentle smirk rested on your features, refusing to relinquish any more information to the children demanding it.

“You aren’t getting anything else than that!” you raised your voice to settle the rowdy classroom with a laugh. You moved from the front of the class back to your desk, listening to the gentle click of your heels on the white tile and gathering the stack of worksheets for that day’s lesson. “Now, pass these around and stop asking questions,” you playfully scolded.

“That’s not what your poster says, Miss Y/L/N,” Jenna spoke up again, pointing out another poster on your wall.

Never stop asking questions! was written in bold rainbow colors on the wall and it was now staring back at you.

You let out a chuckle and shook your head at the floor, knowing they had caught you once again. “I’m going to take down all my posters and you’re going to have to learn in a boring classroom soon.”

“We are just looking out for your love life!”

“You deserve a boyfriend!”

“Or a girlfriend!”

“Just someone who loves you!”

You smiled wide at the class full of endearing faces in front of you. They had nothing but good intentions and were sweeter than Valentine’s Day candy. You loved these kids like they were your own.

“Guys, I appreciate your concern,” you confessed. “But I promise I have it under control.”

After that, they began to settle down, eventually letting you give your lesson on the industrial revolution and scientific advancements of the period.

But you knew you had told them a lie.

You did not have it under control, at all. You were hopelessly in love with the kind man with curly hair and green eyes down the hallway in the band room and had no idea what to do about it.

Harry was one of your first friends when you were hired last year, volunteering to show you around the school and fill you in on all the workplace gossip. He had flecks of cheeky mischief in his eyes as he told you about the gym and spanish teachers’ affair and how the coffee machine was broken by one of the math teachers after a bad administrative evaluation. You had listened adoringly, like he was explaining the meaning of life, and you hadn’t been able to shake your crush since.

You brought each other coffees on the daily and were always in and out of each other’s classrooms. He always made sure you were a chaperone on his field trips and you always made sure he was one on yours. He had even convinced you to let your classes come to band practice once a month so they could play music from the time period your classes were currently studying.

He was endearing and kind and charming and so so good with all the kids. He was also incredibly sexy, which made it even more difficult to control yourself around him. You had the fattest and most uncontrollable crush on him, but he was your friend and you didn’t want to ruin that.

The ring of the bell that signified the end of the class period brought you out of your Harry induced haze, waving goodbye to your students and shouting after them to do their homework and to stop kissing in the hallways. You stood against the door frame of your classroom and watched their little awkward bodies skurry towards their next class, but your attention was soon caught by the tall man who’s chocolate curls stuck out high above the sea of middle schoolers that surrounded him.

“Good morning, love. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he smiled wide, dimples appearing like they were inviting you to poke them, as he reached your classroom and your heart fluttered at his affectionate pet name.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry,” you beamed back at him, hoping he and the passing students didn’t pick up on the adoration that was becoming very hard for you to hide.

“Oi, stop that,” he called over your shoulder, slight disgust showing on his face. You turned around and were met by two kids sucking face behind you. “Guys, just go to class,” he exasperatedly sighed when he was met by their shocked and embarrassed faces. Once they were gone, the two of you descended into a fit of giggles.

“They have no shame!” you laughed.

“Absolutely none!”

“Why are you over here? Not that you aren't welcome, but don’t you have a class to teach?” you teased gently as students began to gradually fill up your own classroom.

“I thought I would stop by and wish you a happy love day.” He smiled wide at you and spoke sweetly. If you weren’t reading into it too closely, you thought he might even be blushing a bit. “And it’s okay,” he waved off his class, clearing his throat and his voice returning to normal. “They’ll survive a few minutes alone. I trust them.”

“You shouldn’t,” you giggled again.

“Yeah,” he nodded with a chuckle. “I probably should get back, but I wanted to invite you to come to my classroom and get some cookies whenever you get a chance today.”

You felt your heart soar at his invitation, no matter how friendly the proposal. “I am free next period.”

“I know,” he winked, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. “I will see you then,” he grinned as he began to walk backwards down the hallway, maintaining eye contact for as long as he could, before spinning down the hall just as the bell rang to start the next period.

You tried your best to focus on your lesson about the renaissance with your sixth graders, but your mind kept floating back to the delightful man who had invited you for cookies.

Had he invited all of the teachers for cookies? Or did he ask just you? Was he just being nice? Or did he actually want to see you? Had he been flirting with you?

The lesson was interrupted when there was a knock on your classroom door. You opened it up to find one of your students, Matt, dressed in a giant heart costume holding baskets full of labelled chocolate bars.

“I’m here to give out Valentine’s Day candy grams, Miss Y/L/N!” Matt exclaimed, his face barely fitting into the far too large hole cut out for his face. Every year the student council set up a candy gram fundraiser and the kid in the suit never got any less cute. You let out a chuckle as you looked down at him, opening the door further and letting him into the room.

You watched with a smile as he called out students’ names and the genuine surprise and flattery that passed over their features. Cheeks turned red and shy smiles played on their lips as they made their way to the front of the room and retrieved their candy from the giant pink heart.

You were caught off guard when you heard your own name be called. Matt held out the meticulously wrapped pink candy bar out to you as the class let out an “ooh” and your cheeks heated with embarrassment. Your cheeks heated even further as you read the label.

To: Miss Y/L/N

From: Mr. Styles

Will you be my valentine?

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you had a very hard time holding back the large and toothy grin that wanted to appear in front of your students.

“Who is it from?” one of your students asked excitedly.

“I don’t ask who your Valentines are, do I?” you teased, but held the candy bar close to your chest over your heart. You could feel your heart racing underneath your hands.

The giant pink heart standing at the front of the classroom finished distributing his candy and your class led a chorus of goodbyes as he left the room, onto the next classroom to spread some more innocent young love. You impatiently watched the clock tick down the seconds until the bell rang and released both you and your students out into the school.

And just when it felt like it might never come, the bell rang through the school and your students were off into the chaos of a passing period. You followed closely behind after you gathered your things, the candy bar slid carefully into your bag. You flowed along with the flow of children that carried you down the hallway, heart racing as Harry’s classroom came into view, your feet quickly matching it’s tempo.

Your footsteps echoed on the tile in the acoustics of the large room, your voice bouncing off the walls as you said hello. He had been tuning a guitar when you came in, his attention flashing up from the instrument in his hands to you.

“I was promised cookies,” you teased him. “They better be good.”

“I promise they are. They’re my nan’s recipe.”

“Of course they’re your nan’s recipe,” you sighed with a chuckle.

“What’s so bad about using my nan’s recipe?” he asked incredulously, grinning as he settled the guitar back into its stand and moved towards you.

“Absolutely nothing,” you sighed adoringly. “I just think it’s very sweet.”

“You haven’t even tried them yet! You can’t say they’re too sweet.”

You couldn’t hold back the giant smile that was so wide it made your cheeks hurt, chuckling at his cheesy joke. He made you feel warm when he moved closer to you, like someone had just turned up the heat in the large room.

“I meant that you were sweet, silly,” you tried to joke, but it came out genuine and soft. You bit on your lip nervously, replaying the affectionate tone in your head over and over.

“Thank you, sweetie,” he smirked softly at the pet name and you felt like you were soaring.

He was close to you now, having crossed the room and standing only a few feet away from your body. You wanted to close the space between you two, to kiss him with all your might, to tell him you would love to be his valentine. But just as you built up the courage, he stepped away towards his desk, retrieving a cookie for both of you.

The cookies were shaped into small perfect hearts with a coarse pink sugar pressed into the soft biscuit. The cookie melted in your mouth and the sugar granules crunched between your teeth. You had to hold yourself back from releasing a moan at the taste. They were dainty and delicate and you could only imagine how much time he had put into them.

But you weren’t shocked. Harry was like that. He was gentle, taking care and measured precision with everything he did. He spoke to the kids with tender care, making them feel talented and successful, and was always there to lend a helping hand whenever one of them needed it. And he spoke to you the same way.

“Harry-” you began softly, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“-Yes, I would love to.”

“What?”

“I would love to be your valentine.”

Your heart jumped in your chest, flattered heat rushing to the surface of your cheeks, but you also looked at him with a slight confusion. He had asked you to be his valentine, hadn’t he?

As you looked at him in slight shock, you noticed the small and meticulously wrapped pink candy bar that sat on his desk. Oh my god, they didn’t, you thought.

You could only imagine the confusion that fell onto Harry’s features as you moved away from him and towards his desk, picking up the candy bar and reading the writing on the wrapper.

To: Mr. Styles

From: Miss Y/L/N

Will you be my valentine?

Oh my god, they did.

“Harry,” you chuckled, looking back towards him and holding the chocolate bar up. “When did you get this?”

“I got it this morning when the kids delivered it,” he said dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t send this.” You walked over to your bag that you had left near the door and retrieved your own matching candy bar. “And I’m assuming you didn’t send this either?”

You handed the pink package to him and he read the label closely, eyebrows furrowing even further, then relaxing as you watched the puzzle fall together in his head as it had in yours.

“The kids sent these to us from each other, didn’t they?”

“I believe they did, Mr. Styles,” you nodded.

His cheeks turned a bright red, embarrassment flooding his features. “I’m sorry about before then,” he stammered out. You watched the panic on his face as he searched for something to say that would cover his tracks, but you cut it off when you connected your lips to his.

His lips were soft and velvety and he tasted exactly like the sweet sugar cookie he had gifted you. Your lips moved gently over each other and you slid your hands up to play with the curls that rested at the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you as his hands found their spot on your hips. You couldn’t help the smiles that fought their way into the kiss and you broke apart moments later, both flushed and flustered, small giggles leaving both of you.

“I would love to be your valentine if you would have me,” you said breathlessly as you looked up to him.

“It’s all I could ask for.”

“This is the best Valentine’s Day ever,” you said softly against his lips, already pulling him back in for more.

“We’re just like the kids in the hallway.”

“They’re not too bad. I understand it now.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!! :)

#Harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles drabble #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #teacher harry #harry styles au #harry styles fic #nationalharryleague #mine

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doomedandstoned · 3 years

Text

The Official Guide to the DOOMIES!

The rumors are true...

...on April 20th, THE DOOMIES are coming!

WHAT IT IS

Doomed & Stoned and Blasko are stoked as hell to announce the first annual DOOMED & STONED AWARDS (aka The Doomies) -- the first underground heavy music awards show of its kind!

The idea of an awards show for the heavy underground has been simmering for quite a while here at Doomed & Stoned HQ, but this year all the pieces finally fell right into place to make it happen.

WHY IT MATTERS

The doom metal and stoner rock scene (two styles that have grown up together like yin & yang) has mushroomed in size, scope, and musical depth -- showing no apparent signs of stopping. It's high time we give formal recognition to the creativity, heart, and musical might of the bands, artists, and record labels that mean so much to our scene.

HOW IT WORKS

Voting members of Doomed & Stoned and the Doom Charts have narrowed the field from a list of bands, albums, artists, and record labels that left a lasting impression on us in 2020, with members given the opportunity of offering up their favorites in eight different award categories. The five most popular in each category have moved on to the next round of voting. This is where you come in. It's now your turn to choose your favs at Doomies.net.

A streaming awards show, hosted by Blasko (legendary bassist and band manager), Billy Goate (Editor in Chief, Doomed & Stoned), and John Gist (CEO, Vegas Rock Revolution) will air on 4/20, when the the winners you select will be announced!

⇝ A guide to the categories and nominees follows below.

SPONSORS

The Doomies are kindly sponsored by Revolver, Orange Amps,Pirates Press, Dunable, Saint Vitus Bar, Does It Doom, The Hard Times, Liquid Death, and Doom Charts.

Poster by Branca Studio.

☿

THE CATEGORIES

I. Best Album

Acid Mammoth - 'Under Acid Hoof'

Under Acid Hoof by Acid Mammoth

Dopelord - 'Sign of the Devil'

Sign Of The Devil by Dopelord

Elephant Tree - 'Habits'

Habits by Elephant Tree

Lowrider - 'Refractions'

Refractions by Lowrider

Psychlona - 'Venus Skytrip'

Venus Skytrip by Psychlona

⇝ vote at Doomies.net

II. Best Band

All Them Witches

Elephant Tree

King Buffalo

Lowrider

Sun Crow

⇝ vote at Doomies.net

III. Best Song

Dopelord - "World Beneath Us"

Sign Of The Devil by Dopelord

Elephant Tree - "Bird"

Habits by Elephant Tree

Lowrider - "Red River"

Refractions by Lowrider

Psychlona - "Blast Off"

Venus Skytrip by Psychlona

Witchskull - "Baphomet's Child"

youtube

⇝ vote at Doomies.net

IV. Best Cover Song

Clutch - "Fortunate Son" (Creedence Clearwater Revival)

Hippie Death Cult - "Fairies Wear Boots" (Black Sabbath)

Howling Giant - "Rooster" (Alice in Chains)

Khemmis - "Rainbow in the Dark" (Dio)

Mos Generator - "Son and Daughter" (Queen)

youtube

⇝ vote at Doomies.net

V. Best Album Art

Acid Mammoth - 'Under Acid Hoof' (Branco Studio)

High Priestess - 'Casting The Circle' (Jill Corbert)

King Buffalo - 'Dead Star' (Ryan T. Hancock)

Psychlona - 'Venus Skytrip' (Kyree Bjurling)

Sky Pig - 'Hell Is Inside You' (Droned Artworks)

⇝ vote at Doomies.net

VI. Best Debut Album

Hail The Void - 'Hail The Void'

Hail the Void by Hail the Void

Kryptograf - 'Kryptograf'

Kryptograf by Kryptograf

Slomosa - 'Slomosa'

Slomosa by Slomosa

Sun Crow - 'Quest For Oblivion'

Quest for Oblivion by Sun Crow

Zakk Sabbath - 'Vertigo'

Vertigo by Zakk Sabbath

⇝ vote at Doomies.net

VII. Best New Band

Big Oaf

BIG OAF by Big Oaf

Bogwife

Halls of Rebirth by Bogwife

Slomosa

Slomosa by Slomosa

Sun Crow

Quest for Oblivion by Sun Crow

The Crooked Whispers

Satanic Melodies by The Crooked Whispers

⇝ vote at Doomies.net

VIII. Best Record Label

APF Records

Heavy Psych Sounds

Magnetic Eye Records

Majestic Mountain Records

Ripple Music

⇝ vote at Doomies.net

Bringing you the music and the stories of the heavy underground, the world 'round. By the underground, for the underground, from the unholy year of 2013.

#The Doomed & Stoned Awards #Doomies #The Doomies #Awards #2021 #award show #doom metal #stoner rock #doom #metal #stoner #rock #4/20 #Blasko #Doomed and Stoned

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cadence-talle · 4 years

Text

Lavender-Inked Silence

Pairing: Fitz Vacker/Keefe Sencen

Wordcount: 1,883

Summary: Peer grading isn’t fun by any measure, but they can trust each other not to judge. And it’s nice, having a little note to look at before he goes home and has to explain to his father why he only got a 95 on the science test.

(Keefe keeps all these notes in a box under his bed, ripping them out of tests and rereading them when he can’t sleep. He’s not quite sure why, but they help.)

(There are quite a lot of notes, over the years.)

Notes: Thanks to @loverofallthingssmart for the prompt and @vibing-in-the-void for betaing! (Also for coming up with the title “a for effort, g for gay”, which is the best thing i’ve ever heard.

Taglist: @everyonehasthoughts, @clearlykeefitz, @loverofallthingssmart, @a-lonely-tatertot, @enbies-and-felonies, @molly-sencen, @lemontarto, @appalyneinstitute1, @ruewen-and-rising, @silver-snow, @linhamon-roll, @hyperlollypop, @never-ever-too-many-fandoms, @keeper-of-the-lost-queers, @impostertamsong, @vibing-in-the-void, @yeetersofthelostcities, @mistythegirlfluxmess, @diamond-dreamerr, @we-have-no-bananas-today, @an-absolute-travesty

(Sometimes, there are words that can’t be understood.)

Spelling tests are, in Keefe’s opinion, the worst thing in the world.

Some words are easy; “fan”, for example, or “kitten”. They’re written exactly how they sound, so Keefe has no problem with them. It’s only with others that he gets tripped up, the extra vowels and unnecessary consonants, combined with Keefe’s terrible spelling, twisting words into unrecognizable shapes.

The worst part is, he knows most of these words- he’s seen them in books his father has made him read. He can see the letters in his mind, can see the definition of the word. When he tries to write them down, though, it turns into something completely different.

“Neither,” the teacher says, walking slowly around the room. “Neither. ‘Not the one nor the other of two people or things; not either’. Neither.”

Niether, Keefe writes, then scribbles it out and changes it to netheir. That doesn’t look right either, but the teacher has already moved on.

“All right, last one,” she calls as Keefe adds a bill and tiny feet to the duck he’s doodled earlier. “Beer. ‘An alcoholic drink made from yeast-fermented malt flavored with hops.’ Beer.”

To be quite honest, Keefe is pretty sure he knows how to spell beer. Although, with everything he’s learned about spelling, it’s very possible there’s another vowel in there somewhere. Maybe an a?

But that would be bear, and time’s running out.

Baer, he scribbles down just as the teacher comes to collect his paper. She gives it a cursory glance, raising an eyebrow in an expression that reminds Keefe of his father. “We’ll be partner-grading these,” she says cooly. “So when you get someone else’s test, I’ll put the answers on the board and you can mark which ones are wrong.”

Keefe sighs a little, tapping the edge of his desk with his pencil. He’s positive he got almost everything wrong, and now one of his classmates will know too.

Figures.

He corrects the (few) errors on the test he’s given angrily, not even glancing at the name on the top until he’s done. When he does, his stomach drops a little.

Fitzroy A. Vacker, the signature at the top reads. Fitz; one of the best students in their class, so well known he can’t walk down the hall without being high-fived. And if Keefe has his test, that means-

“Here you go.” Keefe’s test drops back onto his desk, the other boy appearing next to him. Wordlessly, Keefe hands him his test. Fitz nods and walks back to his seat, and Keefe picks up the paper.

It’s not as bad as he was expecting. He made a lot of mistakes, true- apparently beer is not, in fact, spelled with an a- but there are no rude comments. Just corrections made in light purple pen.

And in the corner, next to Keefe’s halfhearted doodle of a duck, is a little note.

I like your drawing, it says, and then, you’re a really good artist.

You’re a really good artist.

No one’s ever said that to Keefe. Art isn’t a thing he’s good at, because it’s not a thing he does for fun- it’s not a thing he’s allowed to do for fun.

But here, out of the blue, this compliment from someone he barely knows because he drew a stupid duck.

Keefe stares at the paper and smiles.

(He doesn’t know, not yet. But this, in the form of a lavender-inked note on a spelling test, is the start of something amazing.)

-/-

He doesn’t talk to Fitz, of course. That would be stupid. They’re not friends, so no matter how much he’d like to thank the other boy, he doesn’t. He stays silent, keeps to himself, doesn’t ask his father to arrange a playdate. (Father would be overjoyed if he asked. That’s probably why Keefe doesn't.)

No, he doesn’t do anything until they have a math quiz.

Keefe is actually pretty good at math. Addition and subtraction have always come easy to him, so he breezes through the questions and is done with time to spare. When Fitz’s quiz lands on his desk again, he’s barely even surprised; they’ll probably just be partnered up for the rest of the year.

He is surprised, though, when the grade comes out to an 85/100. Not bad, but not good either; certainly not what Keefe would have expected for everyone’s favorite Golden Boy.

But then he remembers the way his father had sneered when he’d come home with his spelling test. The hours he’d had to study on a subject he didn’t understand, words swimming in front of his eyes.

Everyone’s bound to have one bad subject. Maybe this is Fitz’s.

So Keefe puts a little :) next to the grade, writing great job! before standing up and handing it off to Fitz. The other boy looks at the paper, his face scrunching up as he reads the grade then melting into surprise when he sees the note.

“Thanks,” he says, looking up at Keefe. “You too.”

(Sometimes, there are words that can’t be understood. Things that can’t be said out loud for fear of breaking them.)

(But Fitz’s smile, right then, speaks volumes.)

-/-

By third grade, Fitz has switched to using a sky blue pen, and by fifth, he’s writing with green. One thing never changes, though- he and Keefe are always in the same class, and they always grade each other’s work.

It’s more a decision than a teacher-mandated thing. Peer grading isn’t fun by any measure, but they can trust each other not to judge. And it’s nice, having a little note to look at before he goes home and has to explain to his father why he only got a 95 on the science test.

(Keefe keeps all these notes in a box under his bed, ripping them out of tests and rereading them when he can’t sleep. He’s not quite sure why, but they help.)

(There are quite a lot of notes, over the years.)

CHEMICAL CHANGES QUIZ: Fitzroy A. Vacker, Class 302

98/100. Pretty sure a flame test isn’t setting something on fire, but good job anyway! I drew you a flower in compinsashun so you would feel better. -Keefe

Basic Fractions Worksheet: Keefe S, Class 401

100/100! You’re so good at math. -Fitz

Exports & Taxation in the American Revolution: Fitz Vacker, Class 503

100/100. This was really good! I couldn’t stop laughing at the sentence “the colonists rebelled by throwing tea in the ocean”, though. -Keefe

(And there are others, too, not written on schoolwork; tiny messages scrawled in the margin of a sheet of paper and folded into a tight square.)

(Blue ones.)

I passed the principal on my way to class. She’s… not happy. Did you really cover her office in paint? -F

They have no proof. -K

(Green ones.)

Hey, can you come over this afternoon? -K

Yeah, sure. What’s up? -F

I just… I don't want to be alone with my parents. They’re always… nicer. When you’re around. -K

Ok. -F

(And in eighth grade, when Fitz has run out of different colors of pens and is back to purple, there are purple ones.)

Are you going to Stina’s party next weekend? -F

I might. If you’re there. -K

(Sometimes, there are words that can’t be understood. Things that can’t be said out loud for fear of breaking them. Of breaking yourself.)

(There are a lot of messages. None of them mean much.)

(Keefe keeps them anyway.)

-/-

The house is packed, people laughing and whooping over the loud music. The lights are flashing, there’s something suspiciously bitter in the punch, and almost everyone here is a stranger.

Keefe’s been at this party for five minutes. He already regrets coming.

In the crowd, someone lets out a high shout. Fitz flinches slightly at Keefe’s side, taking a step closer to the other boy.

“You want to get out of here?” Keefe murmurs in his ear. Fitz nods and they turn towards the door.

The diner they stop at on the way home is bright, but the lights are constant and the slowly rotating cheesecake in the display case is as familiar as it is inedible. Keefe breathes a sigh of relief. “That was terrible,” he says, taking a seat at the counter. Fitz laughs.

“It really was, wasn’t it? I think most of the people there were highschoolers.”

Keefe nods, thanking the man behind the bar who’s handed him a burger. Fitz is drinking a strawberry milkshake.

“Honestly, I don’t want to go to high school if that’s what people are like.”

Fitz raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think you have much of a choice there, unfortunately.”

“Eh, I don’t know.” Keefe takes a bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully. “I could always just get held back a year. Wouldn’t be too hard, with my track record.”

Fitz laughs again, bright and happy under the fluorescent lights. Keefe watches him, watches the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, the way his nose scrunches up. He’s beautiful.

Beautiful. Where did that come from?

(Sometimes, there are words that can’t be understood. Things that can’t be said out loud for fear of breaking them. Of breaking yourself. Sometimes there are realizations under bright-bright lights that you can never say.)

Beautiful.

Hmm.

Shit.

-/-

As it turns out, being in love with your best friend isn’t as hard as it sounds.

Keefe hasn’t managed to get rid of his feelings, by tenth grade, but he’s managed to ignore them. Ignore the way his gut clenches whenever Fitz grins at him, ignore the flush that appears on his cheeks whenever their hands brush. Ignore, ignore, and hope Fitz ignores too.

There’s less peer-grading in high school. Tests and projects are more important now, so the teachers grade them in most of his classes.

Except in Spanish, because apparently the teacher just doesn’t care.

Keefe marks the last incorrect verb conjugation on Fitz’s test, doodling a tiny heart in the paper’s margin and handing the paper to the boy sitting across the aisle from him. Fitz glances at it, eyes narrowing slightly. Keefe knows that look- that’s his determined look.

He’s not quite sure why Fitz would have something to prove right now, though. He scored a solid 97. Unless-

Shaking his head, Keefe forcefully directs that train of thought.

It comes crashing back in just a second, though, when Fitz hands him his graded test.

100! It says at the top in purple pen. Do you want to get dinner with me?

Keefe glances up and towards the other boy, who’s staring at the board as if it contains the secrets of the universe instead of the quiz answers. With shaking fingers, he writes a single word and passes the paper back.

(And sometimes, there are notes written in multicolored pens, years and years of silent conversations. A message on top of a Spanish quiz that promises something amazing. Sometimes, there is a word, unspoken but still heard.)

Yes.

(Sometimes, a lavender-inked note is all you need.)

#lynn rambles #my writing #keefitz #keefe sencen #fitz vacker #kotlc #kotlc fanfiction

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chiseler · 3 years

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The House of D

As one of his final acts in office, Mayor Jimmy Walker broke ground in 1932 for the New York City House of Detention for Women, built on the site of the old Jefferson Market jail in Greenwich Village and colloquially known as the House of D. According to sociologist Sara Harris’ Hellhole (on John Waters’ list of recommended reading), It was intended as a model of prison reform. Opened in 1934, the twelve-story monolith of brownish brick with art deco flourishes loomed behind the old Jefferson Market courthouse on Sixth Avenue, looking more like a stylish if somewhat cheerless apartment building than a prison. Windows were meshed instead of barred, and the one sign on its exterior merely gave the address, “Number Ten Greenwich Avenue.” There were toilets and hot and cold running water in all four hundred cells, and it was going to focus on rehabilitating its inmates – prostitutes, vagrants, alcoholics and/or drug addicts – rather than merely punishing them. From the start the reality was at variance with the intentions, and the facility quickly became infamous as a combination of Bedlam and Bastille. Within a decade it was chronically overcrowded with a volatile mix of inmates: women who couldn’t make bail awaiting trials that were sometimes months off, women already convicted and serving time, alcoholics and addicts, the mentally ill, violent lesbian tops, street gang girls, hookers and other lifelong multiple offenders, and teenagers spending their first nights behind bars. Tougher, more experienced prisoners brutalized and sexually assaulted the weak and inexperienced. So, of course, did the staff. The halls rang with the howls of inmates suffering the agonies of drug or alcohol withdrawal. There were cockroaches and mice in the cells and worms in the food. Village lesbians called it the Country Club and the Snake Pit. The IWW organizer Elizabeth Gurley Flynn did time in the House of D, as did accused spy Ethel Rosenberg and Warhol shooter Valerie Solanas. In 1957, Dorothy Day, founder of the Catholic Worker movement, spent thirty days there for staying on the street during a civil defense air raid drill. Her ban-the-bomb supporters picketed outside every day from noon to two; the Times called them “possibly the most peaceful pickets in the city.”

Despite its bland exterior, the House of D made its presence very known in the neighborhood through the daily ritual of inmates yelling out the windows or down from the exercise area on the roof to the boyfriends, girlfriends, dealers and pimps perpetually loitering on the Greenwich Avenue sidewalk – a carnivalesque Village tradition for almost forty years. Waters first caught the spectacle in the early 1960s. “It was amazing. No one can ever imagine what that was like. All the hookers would be screaming out the windows, ‘Hey Jimbo!’ And all the pimps would be down on the sidewalk yelling stuff.” Writer and film producer Jeremiah Newton initially encountered it at around the same time. “It was this huge, monolithic building, looking like the building the Morlocks dragged the Time Machine into, and the girls were always yelling down, screaming obscenities and throwing things out the window. It was the biggest building there. I sat on a stoop watching the people walk by. I’d never seen anything quite like it before.” The Village writer Grace Paley lived near the facility in the 1950s and 1960s, and walked her kids past it regularly. She wrote that “we would often have to thread our way through whole families calling up – bellowing, screaming up to the third, seventh, tenth floor, to figures, shadows behind bars and screened windows, How you feeling? Here’s Glena. She got big. Mami mami, you like my dress? We gettin you out baby. New lawyer come by.”

Women arrested at antiwar rallies during the Vietnam era found themselves locked up in the House of D with the hookers, junkies, crazies and butch lesbians. On Saturday, February 20 1965, two eighteen-year-old college students, Lisa Goldrosen of Bard and Andrea Dworkin of Bennington, were arrested during an antiwar protest at the UN and sent to the House of D. There, they later testified, they were brutally mistreated and humiliated by male doctors “examining” them for venereal diseases, and forced constantly to fend off the rough advances of other inmates. They were not allowed to use a telephone until Monday. That March, the New York Post ran an exposé based on their testimony. They didn’t experience anything other women hadn’t for thirty years by then, but in the 1960s those other inmates were overwhelmingly poor black and Hispanic women. Dworkin and Goldrosen were white, middle-class college coeds. As so often happens, that’s what it took to generate public outrage.

When Grace Paley herself was arrested at another war protest some months later, she was detained in the facility. Conditions had slightly improved in light of the outcry the Post had stirred up. Paley had been arrested before at antiwar protests, but it had always resulted in at worst overnight stays. This time a judge threw the book at her and gave her six days. “He thought I was old enough to know better,” she later wrote, “a forty-five year old woman, a mother and teacher. I ought to be too busy to waste time on causes I couldn’t possibly understand.” At least she could look out her cell window and watch her kids walking to school.

In October 1970, Angela Davis was arrested in the Howard Johnson Motor Lodge at Eighth Avenue and Fifty-First Street and taken to the House of D. It was not her first time in Greenwich Village. She was born in 1944 in Birmingham, Alabama, where her father was a car mechanic and her mother was a teacher and a civil rights activist. They lived in a black neighborhood called Dynamite Hill because the Klan had firebombed so many homes there. With help from the American Friends, she and her mother moved to New York, where her mother studied for her Masters at NYU while Angela attended Elisabeth Irwin High School in the Village. She went on to study philosophy at Brandeis, the Sorbonne, and at the University of California, earning her Ph.D. One of her teachers was Herbert Marcuse. By the late 1960s she was an avowed Communist, a member of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee and affiliated with the Black Panthers. She lectured in philosophy at UCLA until 1969, when her Communist and radical affiliations got her fired.

In August of 1970 a black teen named Jonathan Jackson took over a Marin County courtroom and demanded the release of his older brother, Panther member George Jackson, from nearby Soledad prison. He took the judge, the district attorney and three jurors hostage. In the attempted getaway, Jackson, the judge and one other person were shot and killed. When police discovered that Davis, who knew George Jackson, was the registered owner of Jonathan’s weapon, she was charged as an accomplice to murder, a capital crime in California. She fled the state, which put her on the FBI’s most wanted list. A beautiful twenty-six-year-old with a huge and magnificent Afro, she became a global pop star of the revolution a la Che Guevara. When the FBI arrested her she’d spent a few days walking openly in Times Square, unrecognized because she’d slicked down the Afro and dressed like an office worker.

Within thirty minutes of her being locked up in the House of D a crowd of protesters began to gather outside the monolith, chanting; prisoners stood in their windows and chanted along, their fists raised. The NYPD sent a Tactical Defense Force unit – riot police – and House of D officials turned off all the lights inside, hoping to quiet things down. Instead, women set small fires in their cells, and demonstrators cheered the flickerings in the windows. They dispersed without major incident. Placed in isolation, Davis went on a ten-day hunger strike. She spent nine weeks in the facility while fighting extradition to California, where, she was quite convinced, she’d be convicted and put to death. In fact she would be acquitted of all charges in a San Francisco courtroom in 1972, after spending eighteen months behind bars.

Davis was the facility’s last celebrity tenant. Through the 1950s and 1960s, Greenwich Village civic and neighborhood groups had constantly called for the facility to be removed to some location more appropriate, which is to say far away from where they lived and walked their children to school. More liberal souls in the neighborhood thought it should stay, fearing that if the women were shifted to some more isolated location they might be all the more easily mistreated. Before he wrote the hit Broadway musicals Hello, Dolly! and La Cage aux Folles, Villager Jerry Herman wrote a satirical revue called Parade, which included a song about the House of D controversy:

Don’t tear down the House of Detention

Keep her and shield her from all who wish her harm

Don’t tear down the House of Detention

Cornerstone of Greenwich Village charm…

So I say fie, fie to the cynic

Know that there’s love in these hallowed walls of brown

There’s love in the laundry, there’s love in the showers,

There’s love in the clinic

'Twas built with love, my lovely house in town

Save the tramp, the pusher and the souse

Would you trade love for an apartment house?

Dworkin and Goldrosen’s testimony before a commission studying conditions at the House of D helped lead to its being shut down in 1971. Inmates were moved to a new facility on Rikers Island. After some debate about possible new uses for the Village monolith, it was simply torn down in 1973. The site is now a small, fenced-in garden. In 1974 Tom Eyen’s spoofy play Women Behind Bars, set in the House of D in the 1950s, premiered. John Waters’ star Divine performed in a later production.

by John Strausbaugh

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Dressed to the Nines (Fenrir/Reader/Seth)

Pairing: Fenrir / Reader / Seth Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Rating: SFW - Thriller Prompt: Stalker + Bite Word Count: 1,412 Written by: @moos-cow / @hamster-damn

October 31st.

There you were, standing in front of the mirror, drinking in the reflection of your own clad in a daring midnight blue off-shoulder gown.

“Stunning,” Seth spoke from the threshold of your room with a small box in hand that contained the final touch to complete your ensemble. He strode to stand behind you, warm hands lightly brushing over the fabric of your gown before settling on the curve of your hips, and his lips meeting the bare area between your neck and shoulder, “Absolutely stunning.”

You quickly turn in his arms to face him, "Who do I have to thank for, then?" you ask with a cheeky grin before leaning in for a quick peck on the lips. "Thank you, Seth. This dress looks absolutely beautiful."

"And you take beautiful to a whole new level, sweetie." He says, tucking a stray lock behind your ear. "Ah! We have something for you-" Seth lifts the small box up to your eye level. "Turn for me."

You turn as he unboxes the item to reveal an identical midnight blue choker necklace with a dangling crystal before securing it around your neck. But before you could comment any further, a chipper voice calls out from the hall and light tapping of boots quickly reach your room.

"Yo, Seth! Alice! Ya guys ready to go or-- wow." Fenrir stood by your doorway agape at the sight of you. Although he was already wearing his mask, a blush could still be seen creeping up high on his cheeks.

You take Seth's hand in yours and saunter towards Fenrir, taking his hand in your other free hand. "To the Civic Ballroom, yes?" the two follow after you to the waiting carriage with a spring in every step.

You arrive at the Civic Ballroom with your two escorts by your side. The doors to the annual ball opened before you, and the different sights, sounds, and scents wafted out to greet you. Officials and personalities from every quarter of Cradle had come and gathered to don their best outfits for a night to celebrate the spooky. Albeit masked, some of them you could still identify.

Among the dazzling sights before you, the buffet table caught your eyes the most, making it your first stop for the night. You filled your plate to the point of nearly overflowing, "Enjoying yourself, aren't we?" a chipper voice suddenly called from behind you.

You turned with a pastry-full plate in hand and a charcoal colored macaroon in the other. "Ray?" you call, but alas, there wasn't a sign of a single soul behind you. You study the area only to find nothing out of the ordinary.

You strut back to your table where you found Luka and Sirius with each a flute in hand. "Sirius! Luka!" You called to the two, sliding the tower of pastries you procured from the buffet table in front of them, "Have you seen Fenrir and Seth?"

"Seth's at one o'clock." Sirius tilted his flute towards the crowd around the 10 of Spades. Your eyes meet with Seth's for a brief moment before he goes back to entertaining the other guests.

"I saw Fenrir messing around with Ray earlier." Luka spoke quietly as he languidly reached for a lemon bar, obviously tired from socializing with the guests.

The ambient chitchat from all over the ballroom gradually faded as the music from the string quartet began to play. People from the center of the room moved to the sides as couples walked hand-in-hand to the center of the floor.

"Excuse me, miss" a man extends a hand to you from the side, "May I have the pleasure of having this dance?" Although you were slightly taken aback, you still reached your hand over to take his. A little dance won't hurt.

One became two, then three.

Three songs danced with three different guests, only the last one you identified to be the Queen of Hearts. His unmistakable mint hair and haughty comments resulted to your relentless bickering throughout the whole song. He tired you out so much, you needed to step out for a drink and some fresh air. The balcony on the second floor sounded like a nice idea to you.

Out the doors and into the dimly lit halls you went, pausing every so often to admire the artworks that hung on the Civic corridors. The sounds of the party slowly faded away the further you went, leaving you to the ambient silence and the tapping of your heels.

Moments later you realized that there were taps that weren't in sync with yours. You abruptly stopped and turned, but so do the taps. You strained your eyes to search for whoever or whatever was stalking you. Nothing. You continue your walk down to the moonlit balcony slightly bothered as you recalled the officers' haunting stories of the old building.

'Banging on conference rooms on the 2nd floor', 'Screams of fallen officers from the Gardens', 'The piano suddenly playing in the Main Ballroom', 'Whispers in the hall', and the infamous 'dragging of furniture across the diplomats' offices.'

A chill ran down your spine at the thought of the stories. You glanced at the doors to your sides, fervently wishing for not a single one to sound as you chanted "Ghosts aren't real" repeatedly from under your breath.

Five more doors 'til the balcony.

At your final glance, you catch an apparition trailing behind you. Your eyes widened in shock and you picked up the pace of your walk, racking your brain for ways to get out of this mess. The stairs was far behind you, you were too far down to scream for help, and daring to exit via the balcony was rather reckless. You needed to hide.

You twisted the knobs on the doors that you passed, all were locked except for one. You hurriedly entered and locked the door behind you, breathing heavily to catch your breath.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

You stumbled back at the loud banging on the door. The knob shook for a bit, but then stopped. Leaving you alone again to the ambient sounds of your surroundings.

You stepped out of your heels and began to walk around the room to inspect. The fireplace was on, yet there was no sign of any occupant. "Hello?" you called out for confirmation. Nothing. You slid your empty glass on the sole round table and leaned on the said furniture to calm your racing heart.

Just as you began to relax, the chipper voice from earlier spoke once again, startling you by its close proximity. "Having fun?"

A grin crept up your face as you caught the strained notes in his tone. You knew this voice too well to miss it. "Not so. I expected a bit more... thrill." You replied playfully and abruptly turned to the gentleman behind you.

Your breath hitched and your grin turned to pure shock. Before you was the man you were expecting, but not at all. His mouth and suit were drenched in a carmine liquid that reeked a certain metallic stench. "F-Fenrir," you stuttered, frozen in place as your eyes darted towards what laid behind him, behind the sofa-- a lifeless body.

You take a step back and bumped into the table. The glass tips and breaks as it fell to the floor, causing you to jump once more. Strong arms trapped you between his body and the furniture as he slowly leans in, nuzzling at the crook of your neck.

"Thrill eh? How 'bout a little bite, then?" He whispered in a sultry tone. “You look absolutely delicious tonight.”

With all your strength you can muster, you pushed him back and ran towards the door. Fumbling with the lock in the rush to unlock and open it. As the door swung wide open, Seth was there by the opening.

"Seth!" you screamed and pushed him away from the room. You grab his wrist and scrambled on your trembling legs to make a run for it with him. But he jerks you back and pulls you right into his chest, wrapping an arm around your waist to lock you in place.

"Fenrir, what did I tell you about playing with your food?" the older man scolded as he pulled you back into the room. You cry and you kick, but his grip never faltered. “Look at you, you’re a mess!”

"Forgive him, sweetie. He's still... adjusting."

#ikemen #ikemen series #ikemen revolution #Fenrir Godspeed #ikemen revolution fenrir #seth hyde #seth hyde x reader #fenrir godspeed x reader #ikerev seth #ikerev fenrir #Jonah Clemence #luka clemence #Sirius Oswald

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