#led zeppelin fan fic

[untilthenextencore]

Nights To Remember Pt. 1: Of Gods & Goddesses & Magick & Memories~...

Backstory: Summer 1973~. Jimmy & Dahlia had gotten married in the past year~. Some of the more territorial newer wannabe groupies are having a hard time coping with not just her continual presence on tour, but now Dahlia's new status as THE Mrs. Page~. Her & Robert's displaying their close friendship doesn't help~.

Their subsequent finding a friendly way to deal with their boredom amongst the goings on that the hangers on & wannabe groupies live for by escaping certainly doesn't help~.

Robert offers the escape~. He's always been a little in awe of Pagey's choice of girl both in general in the early days, but also in the form of his chosen one, Dahlia~. She is so familiar yet foreign to him it makes his head spin~. So worldly, yet down to earth~. A mix of city yet downhome that he might've chosen for himself if he had the chance~. But as far as he's known her she's been Pagey's~. Solidly, decidedly, faithfully Pagey's~.

Suffice to say, even in his happiest moments in the friendship he's conflicted~. Even though they're not cheating or going behind Pagey's back~.

But when he finds himself even moreso conflicted about the cloak & dagger aspect of their innocent little excursion, that he himself offered initially, he then finds the idea of Pagey finding out also somehow doesn't appeal to him~.

~

Ho hum. Another day. Another dollar. Another concert. Another party. Another night to remember. Until they forget it all in the morning. Or lose track of which night in the sea of "nights to remember" held the goings on their shattered minds remembered only fractures of at tour's end. Glittered & goggle eyed groupies frantically flipped over themselves to catch the eye of anyone who was anyone in King Robert's court. Or so it seemed.

True. Robert was holding court like he was king. One of four at least. But being in the middle of yet another tour - an American one at that - only meant one thing. Like the others he was left without a queen. Only one of their roundtable could however not lay claim to such a misfortune. The luckiest one among them. The wizard in his stars & moon suit himself. James Patrick Page.

No. Because as ever Jimmy had brought along his lady. Lady Dahlia-Maria Dominguez Page. The Lady who was a natural creative herself it seemed. She & her camera, while remaining discreet & unobtrusive, furnished some of the most intimate portraits of the band allowed. A few Peter even sold at the merch table, netting her a tidy sum of her own aside from being married to he of the led wallet and house of Tower.

Though she only released a few here and there. She too liked to maintain her own brand of privacy. Despite the wingding that was their wedding in Hampton Court Palace - of all bleeding places - in the past year, she really preferred a smaller do generally. Friends & family & neighborhood kin & no more. As was borne out by the smaller dos held in Mexico at her family's small yet palatial feeling compound in Jalisco that was something of an early childhood home for her & Pagey's place in England for family that could not swing airfare for a trip to the palace.

Which begged the question.

What the hell was she doin here?!

Not that he begrudged her presence itself. Not at all. Robert & Dahlia always seemed to get on rather well. Down home types lost in the Wonderland that was the entertainment business. Though even with her downhome partial Mexican upbringing Dahlia was decidedly still more of a city girl to this country boy.

Being an LA local, Dahlia knew it like the back of her prettily manicured hand. A hand she also often used in keeping much of the frivolity at arm's length. Even when in the middle of it all. She seemingly always sat apart. That was what Robert didn't understand about her presence in such madness.

Clearly the groupies agreed. Equally manicured hands being verily filed into a point, eager to tear at a tawny-skinned throat as their owner's gripped. "What is SHE doing here?!" Calling her everything but a child of God or what her father's own book termed their culture, "Children of the Sun".

No matter.

She seemingly stayed unaffected.

Toying with her engagement & wedding rings just so. Arranging the gold bangle bracelets or matching pendant. Her only flashes of vanity or pride being her only answer. Letting both that & her presence along with the 5000 other ways she was the "chosen one" of the Mr. James Patrick Page do the talking for her. Knowing her, if she were feeling cheeky she might whip out her instant camera & take a pic of the offending party, leaving some hanger on to deliver it & with it the picture proof / photo evidence of their bitterness as she & her beloved husband tangled fingers & held hands. They can have a pic. She had the real thing.

Guinevere was not giving up her throne.

Unbothered by the petty strife clawing at the door, begging to enter her beloved Camelot.

Rather, she looked bored, really.

Jimmy had disappeared with Bonzo. Off to take a powder likely. She had been chatting with Jonesy about books & things to get his girls & Mo back home, but now he too was off somewhere. Hangers on knew better than to try to ingratiate themselves with her. She had iced them out before. Now they well knew. There was no way in to the Page / Zeppelin inner sanctum with her.

As further proof, both of her seeming boredom & inaccessibility by groupie or hanger on, Robert saw her pull a small book out of her purse. That was Dahlia. Forever a bookworm. Sodom & Gomorrah at her feet. Head in the clouds. Nose in a book.

Before he knew it, Robert felt himself propelled towards her, stumbling a few times when a glittered & bejeweled fan flung & slung herself over him. Extricating himself deftly every time he uttered a soft, "Not this time, darlin'." "Maybe another night, doll." Or even "What will me missus, think?" Laughing his way out of harm's way as he bid them good night & left them to join the party. He caught more curses & sotto-voce snipes when they saw in what direction he was heading. But no matter. His course was set. Off he traveled to the "land of the people of the sun".

It was then that he allowed his six foot sun-people seeking self to cast a shadow over her in the midst of her reading. This had the intended effect of having the dim light she had been reading under all but disappear as he blocked it out. She whirled around to regard him with sharp eyes that were cut to him in momentary disgust. Her lips pursed as a similarly sharp tongue went about finding the right barb to fling before suddenly dropping its weapon. Her eyes widened before her gaze then softened in mirth as she lifted her arm in modified Roman salute, hand tilted upwards slightly. "Hail, Apollo. What brings the Sun God to these darkened shores?"

Sun God? He quite liked the sound of that. So he decided to play along, wracking his brain for his schoolboy Mythology.

"Hail, Aphrodite. I come in peace." He said, mimicking her salute with the hand that was not holding his beloved ale. "Or should it be Persephone, luv? By the way... Where is our beloved Hades?" Robert craved his neck around, looking for the dark-haired lord of the underworld that always seemed to be lurking around every corner when she was involved. "My stars." He gasped, putting a hand to his bared chest for affect. "I see no star suited one for miles. How is that possible?"

"I think he's off with your fellow northern friend right now. The one who plays either Dionysus or Ares if the bacchanalia goes too far." Dahlia quipped, her lips quirking into a wry grin as she pointed to Jonesy at the bar. "Hermes just left himself as well."

"Foolish ones they are." He tsked, shaking his head. "Leaving one so fair alone in the midst of such bacchanalia indeed."

Looking down he saw that where the glittered ones would have blushed or fluttered their eyelashes & twirled a curl of hair into a coil in flirtation, that was decidedly not Dahlia's - nor Aphrodite or Persephone's - way. Instead, she stayed looking up at him with the same wry grin & mirthful if still piercing stare along with a soft incredulous shake of the head. Her lips said nothing. But those eyes? Those eyes said EVERYTHING.

Clearing his throat & lubricating himself & his suddenly dry mouth with more ale, he jutted his chin at her book. "Whatcha readin' there, luv?"

"A mini collection of Harlem Renaissance poetry. Some classics. The usual." She marked her page & closed it to show him the cover art. Brown bodies arced & curved in exultation.

"Classics indeed. Your usual. A nice addition to your other usual Agatha Christies." He grinned. "What for?"

"Just because." She shrugged as she pocketed the book. "And because I figure if I'm to live in the aftermath of the Swinging Sixties... The Roaring Seventies some have termed... I better brush up on how the times used to Roar back in the day. Better brush up on my Cotton Club classic bacchanalia... Although..." She cast a suddenly weary look across all the goings on around them. Glittering, giggling, sharpened nails & tongues of hardened decidedly un flowerchild GTO like groupies & grubby fingered, coke jittery, tipsy-drunk, outstretched-handed hangers on included & heated a sigh. "Forgive me for saying but this pales in comparison to my childhood dreams of the Cotton Club."

"Indeed." He nodded with another sip of his ale. So she saw what he did that night. What he felt. She felt it too.

"I mean, not to be ungrateful or anything. Knowing how you like it & all. "Prince of Peace" that you are." There was that quirk of her lips again as she drawled the last part out.

Try as he might not to, he winced at the memory of those words leaving his lips unironically. Ah, so she had heard that story too. Of course she had. Was nothing a secret in this God forsaken place?!

His momentary embarrassment was compounded at the same time he was delightfully distracted by the sound of her sweet giggle. "I know how much fun you have typically. And I get how you dig the scene generally speaking. It just doesn't... It doesn't... It doesn't really do it for me... Not much... I mean all these people... They'd probably not spit on me if I were on fire if I wasn't with you guys. If I wasn't Mrs. Page. Hell, half of them would likely be the ones holding the match. Some of them still would now!" She cut her eyes in half dismissal half bemusement at the nail-filing bile-spitting groupies.

Naturally, she saw that too. Nothing escapes a goddess's eyes. A queen misses nothing.

"To clink glasses & break bread with them feels so false & disingenuous. Knowing all that, I mean. That's another reason I have this book." She tapped the book with a finger before closing her purse around it. "That way, I don't have to."

"Suffice to say, grateful though I am to be invited to these things, considering some of the company that find their way in... This ain't exactly my kinda party, Planty." She took her champagne glass from the table, clinking it with his bottle. "Cheers." Before downing the swallow or two that remained.

A moment passed in silent agreement. Robert having nodded at everything she said. The falsehoods of their lifestyle that were apparently hitting him hard that night, she had always seen. Hence her keeping it all at arm's length. Alice falling down a rabbit hole but landing on her own two feet. Dorothy traveling through Oz in a bubble of her own design. Pagey or not, his girl had her own magick. This he had always known. So had Pagey, he surmised, as evident by the rock on her finger as much as anything else.

"What is your type of party, luv? Missing Hampton Court?" He teased, though he knew her well enough to know better.

"No indeed." She laughed, nodding as he refilled her glass. "Thank you, kind sir." Then after a sip, she continued. "Even I know that night was a one in a million. A once in a lifetime event. Though that indeed was a night to remember as you well know."

There went that phrase again. At least this time it was worth it. That night truly was one to remember for all involved. Mariachis and Led Zeppelin acoustic jam at Hampton Court. Would wonders never cease? That had to be a first for all involved!

"But, c'mon blondie!" She nudged him, shaking him out of his reverie.

A reverie of her in her wedding whites with glittering mantilla veil coming down the aisle towards at the altar, seated next to Pagey, dancing with Pagey... And the dances he was able to share with her himself. Cor, was she a vision then. A lovelier bride he had hardly ever known.

Shaking out a wince at the thought of even thinking thar when he had his own missus at home... One who had a decidedly less ritzy do when her own turn came years earlier... He again silenced these demons with another swig of ale & turned his eyes back to the dusky goddess queen vision at hand.

"You know what it is. What my kind of party is. You know it about as well as Jimmy. Think about it."

"Jalisco?" Robert asked.

"Well, yeah." She nodded. "Yes, of course. But what about stateside? You remember. Though it's been awhile."

Robert instantly got hit with another blast from the past and he rattled off the vignettes as they came flashing back to him. "East LA. Whittier Boulevard. The Chuco." A quaint little chill hangout spot for local Chicano youth that played a mix of oldies, early rock'n'roll, Chicano groups, Latin jazz & Mexican or Latin music of all kinds.

Dahlia snapped her fingers & pointed at him. "Bingo. That's it. That's it exactly, Robert. That's my kind of party. All of it."

"Why don't we go back tonight then?" Robert offered with yet another swig from his bottle.

Dahlia paused mid thought. Mid answer. Her mouth falling open in a silent gasp & lack of immediate response. Try as she might, she couldn't really think of a reason not to. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she also really wanted to. Really wanted to. But still, she had to ask.

"Right now?" She whispered conspiratorially.

"Why not?" He shrugged. "S'gotta be better than this lot, yeah?"

Dahlia gave a quick look around & then went back to regarding Robert with a bemused smirk. "Don't you think they might miss you, your highness? I mean, how could they not miss their beloved Prince of Peace?"

He winced again at the little rib. (Dahlia was one of the rare very few whose barbs both landed & made him laugh.) But he did his best to play it off with a laugh & a wry grin of his own as he mused. "We'll be back."

Dahlia cast her eyes back over the bacchanalia, mulling things over. Another moment passed before she shot to her feet, tossing a soft voiced request over her shoulder. "Wait right here."

She then left the table & crossed over the room to Peter sitting at the bar with his ever present cigar, tapping him on the shoulder. She whispered something in his ear which had the cigar chomping bear of a man nearly dropping his cigar in shock as his jaw nearly slackened. He muttered something back, motioning to the goings on to which she shook her head, explaining further. She motioned across the room, lifting her hands in a quizzical shrug before pointing to the door, which was guarded shut. Then folding her hands together, she evidently pleads her case. And surprise surprise, wizened, hard negotiator Peter folds. He relents.

Peter motions to Magnet - of all people - pointing to her & motioning to a back entrance & hence exit. Dahlia squealed, leaping into Peter's arms & giving him a grateful squeeze. Peter grinned, hugging her back & patting her on the back with a meaty hand, making sure to keep his lit cigar away from her & keeping her safe from the ashes.

Upon breaking the hug, Dahlia turned to motion to Robert himself & tell Peter something else that nearly made him drop his cigar again. Peter's eyes widened & then narrowed. Clearly telling Peter that Robert too would be making his exit & taking his leave just then.

Peter's gaze sharpened... Not with malice... But with knowledge... He knew Robert... His types... His wonts... Or wants...

Robert knew this well...

And so it was that as Robert sidled up to both Magnet & Dahlia, he heard something above the whines & curses of the groupies. A few gruff words grunted in Cole's direction by his behemoth of a manager that cut through the din. "Get Pagey..."

Hustling himself along with her & Magnet out the door, Robert did his best to avoid Peter's gaze from then on out. Helping her into her jacket, which was really one of Pagey's more subtle, casual & less spangled boleros, Robert couldn't help but ask. "What was that about, luv?"

"Oh nothing..." She shrugged before thanking him & Magnet for opening her door & helping her into the car respectively. "Thank you. Such gentlemen." The tension Robert felt was broken by a shared giggle between the three before she continued. "I just told Peter I wanted to leave & hit up East LA for awhile before we head back to the Hyatt. He asked if Pagey was coming & I said he disappeared with Bonz for a bit & I couldn't find him. Besides, he was having fun last I knew, so I didn't want to pull him away from him being able to relax."

"I see..." He trotted over to his side of the car, slipping inside himself with Magnet shielding him from view of any lurking groupies as best as he could. "And the motioning to me & the party at hand, luv?"

"Simple." Dahlia explained, punctuating her words with the click of her belt. "I told him to tell Jimmy where I was, that I'd be back soon & not to worry. That not only would Magnet be with me but so would you & that you were leaving to tag along with me too. That you'd be there to protect me as well."

Robert felt a slight quickening of his pulse despite the innocence of it all. The innocence of her explanation. Of the situation. Yet the cloak & dagger feel of it all gave him a little heart flutter & frisson at once. He didn't quite know why. He couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Why was he so unnerved?...

It was his idea, after all...

They weren't doing anything wrong anyway...

It was then that Magnet got onto the road & pulled off. Now Robert knew... There was no turning back...

Though turn back he did...

Robert couldn't help it...

And so it was that as he craved his neck to glance back at the traffic behind him, Robert swore he saw a hint of a familiar tall, willowy, smoking, silver accented, black-haired figure hustling into the back seat of a car that roared to life & took off a few car's length behind them.

Only one word came to mind to describe the situation Robert found himself shoe-horning himself into now & his current state of mind.

"Shit..."

~

Hope you guys enjoy~!

As ever this is forever under construction~!

#untilthenextencore #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin fanfiction #led zeppelin fan fic #led zeppelin fan fiction #robert plant fan fiction #robert plant fan fic #robert plant fanfic #robert plant fanfiction #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fan fiction #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fan fic #nights to remember fic

[letmewanderinyourgarden2022]

My hand grasped the door knob – trembling with expectation.  I felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole - thrilled and terrified.  Peering through the leaded glass of the door, a lovely walled garden, green and lush, beckoned.  And in the far corner, a flash of silver glinted in the sunlight catching my eye.   The unmistakable mane!  There he was – unbelievable!  I nudged myself out of inert amazement, took a deep breath and walked through the door.  As it closed behind me, the tinkling of its bell reverberated throughout the yard.

He turned to the sound and smiled.  Rising from the table, he slowly walked to meet me on the path with that distinctive gait, casually but impeccably dressed in jeans, dark shirt, scarf and leather jacket.   As our distance lessened, his radiant face with crinkling eyes was all I could see.  

He held out his hand to me.  I don’t remember consciously extending mine to meet his, but the feeling of that first contact etched itself in my memory. It wasn’t a handshake, but something more personal, intimate in a way – almost a caress.

“Jane, so lovely to meet you.”  Those green eyes met mine and I froze.

After seconds that seemed so much longer, I snapped back to reality.  “Jimmy.  Really lovely to meet you too.  God, I’m sorry.  This is just surreal, really.”

“No worries.  Shall we sit?”  He took my arm and guided me back to where he had come.

As we neared the table, I tossed my bag off a distance as planned.  There could be no question about my motives.  As Jimmy moved to the opposite side of the table, I stopped dead. 

This really wasn’t what I envisioned when the meeting was arranged.  I should have scoped it out first. Shit!

I didn’t and I wasn’t at all dressed for slinging my leg over a picnic table bench!

Pencil skirt!  What was I thinking!!

I stood there for a moment, grinning like a fool, trying to figure out how to maneuver.

“Well. . .This is not going to be my most graceful attempt at sitting at a table.  Sorry for the klutzy first impression,” I laughed.  Jimmy joined in with a genuine chuckle that put me at ease.  I hiked the skirt mid-thigh and managed to sit without looking like an idiot. . .I hoped. Jimmy watched my antics closely as he sat down.  Then, there was a bit of an awkward silence.

The Inn had already delivered iced water and a bottle of wine was in a stone chiller.

“Would you like water?  Or there’s a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc if that is more to your liking.  We can certainly get something else if you’d rather.”

“Wine would be perfect, thank you. I’m an old hand at opening wine bottles.  May I?”

“No, dear.  Allow me.”  He grabbed the corkscrew and the bottle.  It was opened and poured in a matter of seconds.

As I took my glass, he did as well.  “Cheers, Jane.  To discovery.” He flashed the thousand-watt grin I’d seen so often beaming from a magazine article or an internet page.  It took away my breath for just a second. We clinked our glasses and sipped.

Another awkward pause. 

WTF, Jane?  You’re here for fuck’s sake.  Get it together!  

I took a much larger sip thinking what to say next.  Jimmy ended the awkwardness.

“How do you find your trip so far?”

“It’s been really wonderful, Jimmy.  I thought it would be ridiculous to make this trip and only stay for a few days, so I’ve taken a leave of absence to, you know, experience all that I can.  I took a flat in London for a month or so.  It’s very comfortable.  And the room here at the Inn!  Thank you so much for arranging that.  So much history!”

“I’m glad it worked out.  It is lovely here.  Have you managed St. Andrews yet?”

“No, not yet, but I plan to before going back to London.” 

“You know, you can see the gardens at the Deanery from the tower.  Quite the vista from there.”

“Yes. I can’t wait to see it.  Hopefully the weather will cooperate. . .Ummm. . . Jimmy. . . I just want to let you know, I’m not wired or anything and my bag is way over there, so no hidden recorders.”  I blurted.  I had to laugh at the puzzled but amused look on his face telegraphing he was unsure how to react.  I knew how weird it sounded but I seriously wanted to let him know.   “Just want to get that on the table, so to speak. . .And. . .I have to ask. . .why did you agree to meet me?  I honestly never expected to hear from you. . .honestly.”

I watched him carefully, trying to get a clue as to his response.  He watched me as well, obviously mulling over what he wanted to say.

“It did take some time, didn’t it? 

“Yes – I now know first-hand about Led Zeppelin time or maybe it’s really Jimmy Page time,” I joked. 

“Now, now, now.  Don’t be unfair, Jane,” he said in a mocking tone.

“My sincere apologies, Mr. Page” returning his tone with a grin.

He sought my eyes with a bit of a smirk. “As I was saying, Jane. I was altogether intrigued and came back to your letter many times before we reached out to you.  I’m very cautious about these types of things, as you know.”  His gaze narrowed, giving off a palpable but undefinable vibe.  “There was just something about it that resonated in, let’s say, a curious way.”

“Curious?  What was it that made you contact me?”

“Well, the letters that get to me are generally not in the nature of yours - the beginning bit, for one - impertinent, my dear.  And the writer insisting on providing an NDA and a statement from a psychiatrist is not the normal content in fan letters, Jane,” he quipped.

“Well,” I snickered, “it must have gotten someone’s attention. But, in my defense, it was important for me to let you know I’m not a ‘crazed fan.’ Really important.  And the NDA. . . well, I know that you are very private and it’s kind of a professional hazard for me, you know.”  I felt a blush creep into my cheeks – a bright shade of crimson, I was sure.

“Ah yes – you’re a solicitor.”

“Yes, a lawyer in U.S. vernacular and, you know, I wanted you to understand that I was serious.”

“And, Jane, it was beautifully crafted – the - shall I say - interesting calligraphy, the detail in the drawings on the paper and the paper itself, the vellum, all unexpected.  I just knew somehow that the sentiments were deeply felt.  There was something, as I said, intriguing.”  His eyes relayed another undertone that I could feel but not identify. “So, Jane, where shall we start?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@firethatgrewsolow @foreverandadaydarling @laluxea @lzep @sassybouquetrunaway-universe @jimmysdragonsuit13 @jenyj89

#let me wander in your garden 2022 - prologue #let me wander in your garden 2022 #jimmy page fan fiction #zoso #jimmy page #silver fox jimmy #old man jimmy #led zeppelin fanfic #new jimmy page fan fic

[nature-and-music-art]

Click here to read the story

Afterwards please click here to read a new snippet

Fan art inspired by @firethatgrewsolow​ story Branwen.  Branwen was one of the first of many Robert Plant stories I read before creating an account on tumblr.  Having gone back to read it, I’ve absolutely adored how incredibly vivid it is written.  The writing allows the reader to really put themselves in the place of the titular character as she adapts to this new life that was thrust upon her by the Viking King. 

Graphite, ink, and gel pen were used.

Outfit inspired heavily from this picture (Never seen Vikings yet)

Background was rushed, pretty much attempted to copy the one in the reference photo, but added more rocks.

#artists on tumblr #firethatgrewsolow #classic rock #classic rock fandom #robert plant #led zeppelin #graphite #ink #gel pen #branwen #fan art #fic art #alternative universe #au #fanart

[thepinkwriterr]

Capricorn Season Chapter Eighteen Part One

Hello, I know it’s been a while since I updated. I apologize. Posting will be hard for the next little while. I am in college and it’s VERY hard. I am also going through a lot personally. I was seeing this guy for a while and it didn’t work out, and I’ve been taking it really hard. I hope you can understand. 

In this chapter, we join the guys on tour. We are meeting a new character! Enjoy :)

Table of Contents

Word Count: 4.5k

The time difference between L.A. and Dallas woke everyone early. With the rising sun, the denizens of the hotel were awakening to eat breakfast and go about their daily routines. Some were enjoying the casual stay, like the traveling pair of lawyers in room B207. Others, such as the newlywed couple in C225, were unfortunate enough to be booked down the hall from the Zeppelin gang. And some, like Robert, were experimenting with a different kind of romance. 

Outside it was light out, the world was awash with light blue and a tinge of grey, looking more like England than Dallas. Lorelei was the first to be woken by the racket next door. It was Peter on the phone. She wondered why the hell he was up at this hour. What could be so important? It seemed that everyone else was used to the sound, as they were all sound asleep. She couldn’t hear anyone stirring, least of all Robert. He was snoring away on his pillow, features mashed into the soft cotton.  

This hotel was particularly nice, which made her rude awakening less unpleasant. The bed linen was quality, which was the true sign of a good hotel. She was used to the rough feeling of 100-count sheets and polyester blend pillowcases. She was happy to be here, especially with such a high-caliber guest. 

As she looked around the room at all of the amenities, she felt lucky to be there with him. She was Robert Plant’s woman for the time being. She was in a place that thousands of women and men would kill for. 

He was special, she thought. He was a shining gem under the sun she found on the sidewalk. She felt lucky to be with him, to share the same sheets as him. His hands felt like a prayer on her skin, every kiss was a message from a loving God. 

Their love would be fraught and temporary, of course, but it could also be beautiful. It could be the shortest, most peaceful death her heart had experienced. She could see the end already before the opening credits started. She could feel her heart already in pieces. But she would be happy to have it broken by him. 

The clouds were shielded by the budding sun, but eventually, they gave way to a beautiful scene. She thought the renewed sun looked like an egg yolk, but that was on account of her hunger. She hadn’t eaten since the day before at lunchtime, and the rumbling in her stomach was becoming noticeable. She surmised Robert would have to do for now, and drank the sight of him. 

She knew he would break her heart. Whether their time was tonight, or it spiraled into months, she knew it would end in a shattering mess of tears and heartbreak. But she just couldn’t care. It was Robert. He was everything she’d ever wanted. 

After the years, what was one more heartache? Love had never been kind, it never had wings, only teeth, and jagged edges. It seemed worth it in that moment. 

She was entirely happy to observe him passively as he slept. When he was awake he was on fire, aroused at its simplest definition. When he slept he was quaint and tractable. In his supine state, she could easily look at him without those prying eyes, absorb his beauty without the threat of ego. He was docile and beautiful as ever. 

As if feeling her eyes hot on him, he began to rouse. He woke suddenly with grace, popping his eyes open to see her. He smiled at once, delighted to see that she was still in the room with him. He worried before he drifted off that she would leave, or that she was but a figment of his imagination. 

Fortunately, she was wholly real.  

“G’mornin,” he grumbled, his voice hoarse and laden with sleep. She liked the huskiness of it. It sounded sexy, whether it was the product of misuse of his vocal cords or all of the cigarettes. 

Their connection could not be denied. Something was pulling them together. Destiny, fate, what have you, something was drawing them close. There Something was callingto each other. They were not like magnets, because their polarity is what repels them; they were entirely attracted to the moronically similar features they possess. They were Gemini lovers, twins in love and life. They were too similar and would only destroy each other.

Robert was drawn to her for this very reason. She was an opulent hand mirror. He could see himself in her eyes, distorted into a hero. He was drunk on the power she gave him. 

“Goodmorning,” She chirped, all too eager to see him awake. She was smiling, her china doll face bright and open with the promise of morning. Her marble eyes were puffy with sleep. 

“How did you sleep?” He sat up now and reached over for a cigarette. He left his pack of Park Lanes on the table next to the stark lamp. He fished one from the pack with his deft fingers and put it between his lips. “Got a light?” He asked, his lips forming around the smoking stick. 

“Umm, I don’t think so,” she tittered. 

“That’s alright, I should have one.” He stood from the bed, clad in his birthday suit. She averted her eyes at first but dropped her hands after the realization that this would be an occurrence she would and could get used to. 

“Alright, now where were we?” He asked when he was firmly planted in the bed once more. He pulled her closer and breathed in her scent. She smelled like coconut and sea salt with a hint of vanilla. He wondered how she managed that. 

“So, we have a break today. What do you want to do, love?” He continued to smoke as he asked, looking at her sweet face. He thought she was beautiful, more beautiful than any woman he’d seen in a long time. 

Her hair was wild, looking less tame in the morning than it had the night before. Her eyes were light and warm, they had a charming and enlightening quality about them. Her eyes drew him in, called to him from across the club that night. 

-

Even in the dim light of The Nightengale, Robert found his way to her. It was midnight, and the moon was raised high in the sky, illuminating the pavement outside. She trickled in ten minutes after they arrived, content with the idea of meeting one Mr. Robert Plant. 

She caught his attention immediately. He couldn’t help but pull his gaze from Jimmy. His eyes left their booth, moved away from his pallid face, and found their way to her figure. He was hooked from the moment he laid eyes on her. 

It was all intentional, of course. She dressed to impress, as always, but took special care this particular evening. She dressed in her finest robes, making sure to accentuate her best features. She wore a silk dress in a dark teal shade that detailed her curves, wrestled her hair into the perfect curl pattern, slipped on a sleek pair of pink heels, and finished the look with a dark and minimal makeup job. 

She stood next to the bar trying her best to appear as if she wasn’t desperately searching for him. She heard they would be in town two weeks ago from Juniper, the closest thing Lorelei had to a friend for the time being. After hearing about their impending arrival she settled on a plan. She couldn’t get in to see them (the tickets had been sold out three days before she’d even heard about the show) but she would run into them somehow. 

Yes, L.A. was a big town, but she was determined. She knew where they would go, and exactly what booth they’d be in. Security would be lacking and so would morals. She would slip right in and make her way to Robert’s bed with no problem. 

The matter of actually doing it was a different story. She thought it would be easy, just as Ritchie, David, and all the others had been. They had come to her, essentially laying bare at her feet, asking for her love. She barely had to lift a finger in getting them to her. She never bothered with nerves and thought little of the future. 

Robert was different. He was much more beautiful, more talented too, than any of the other guys. He had a charisma that could parallel God, a swagger that would choke the devil and bring angels to tears. No wonder he had such a way with women… 

Warm light and sweetly perfumed air swarmed her, rushed through her hair, and trickled down her neck like Summer wind through lace curtains. She was hot, suddenly sweat pricked her skin and ran down her neck. It no longer seemed so easy to take steps toward him. 

She tried her best to put one foot down, then the other. Reluctantly she made her way to him in short, even strides. She put on her greatest face of confidence for him. 

He watched her from the moment she stepped in. She was gorgeous, that was sure, but seemingly unaware of it. She moved languidly, slowly, and methodically, as if no one was watching her. She was a fawn walking with new legs. 

He could tell she was looking for him. Her eyes searched, on a mission for someone. At first, he hoped it was for him, unsure if it were true, but it was soon revealed that he was her target. Her slight smile at the sight of him was the tell that revealed her excellent poker face. 

Now she was coming closer, and he watched her still. He watched as she set her intentions, painted the floor with them as she made her move, and watched yet as she stopped short at the bar. He deflated. 

It was his turn to make a move. Their silent gambit would not end here, no, it had just begun. 

He made his way to the bar with one utterance of “sorry,” to Jimmy. His serpentine steps were accented by his snakeskin boots and he leaned against the cool granite of the bar. 

“Can I have a vodka tonic? Well, make that two.” Robert’s voice was buttery smooth and strong. Even over the din of the club, she knew who it was. She didn’t even have to look. 

“Make that second vodka-tonic a martini. Dry. I don’t like vodka,” she said, now flashing that famous sweet look. 

Her face was delicate and soft. She had clear skin and rosebud lips, soft and pink, even without the lipstick. Robert wanted nothing more than to grab her and kiss her, to ravage her right there on the bar. But he didn’t. 

“My apologies, love,” he turned his body to her. He raked his eyes up and down her frame, giving her an indolent stare. He made it loud and clear that he was admiring her.

She felt golden and warm inside. A rush filtered through her. She tried her best to fight off the giggles. “No worries. I appreciate the drink.” 

She worried that he would leave. His amorous eyes were pushing her off her usual game. Her flame was smothered by his overpowering heat. She didn’t know that he was just as interested in her. 

“I’m Robert.” 

“Lorelei.” 

“Lorelei? That’s a lovely name. Lorelei… I like how that sounds.” The syllables rolled off his tongue with flawless precision. He swirled her around his mouth as if he were tasting her, licking the sugar off her enflamed frame. 

She burned with ardent joy. “Thank you. I’ve always thought it sounds like a grandma's name, but my mother thought it was cheery.” 

He chortled. “Cheery? That seems to fit you, doesn’t it?” 

Now she was laughing. She couldn’t help it. He made her giddy. “You don’t even know me.” 

“Yes,” he was laser focused now, and serious, “but I want to, darling. I want to know you very much.” His eyes brushed her lips, his gaze falling on his target. 

A slight smile returned to her lips. She’d procured him. 

-

Jimmy, on the other hand, was terribly miserable. He was plagued with deep pain. He woke each morning with the bitter feeling of lovesickness, missing the woman he called home. Her eyes and lips were etched into his mind and her voice played on an endless loop all day long. He longed for her. It was an aching pain in his side, a stabbing at his heart. The only moments of relief were when he talked to her, about her, or thought of her. It was a constant drumming in his head.

He tried his best to pull himself from the recesses of the hotel bed. He threw back the duvet and went to the balcony doors. He drew the curtains back and looked out at the nature before him. There were rolling hills and sprawling countryside landscapes, complete with animals and little white fences. It reminded him of his bucolic life with Gwen back in Pangbourne. He sighed and sat down at the writing desk in the corner of his room. Perhaps he'd just write a letter, considering how early it was back home.

He started with an address of his feelings, a profession of his sorrows. Then, he went into catching her up on the events of the tour so far. Bonzo had destroyed three hotel rooms, Robert had wracked up twenty-eight women, and Jonesy got drunk the night before and danced on a table at the behest of a very high Robert. Richard got himself purse-slapped by an angry woman who was not receptive to his flirting. Peter had yelled at 32 stage managers and club promoters. He laughed as he recounted last night's debauchery. He coerced Bonzo into throwing a set of TVs out the window, cackling all the while. This frustrated Peter, which was also a plus. 

His prose was interrupted by a knock at the door and a voice telling him it was time for breakfast.

Bonzo was sleeping in, as usual. He was a rock in the bed adjacent to Jonesy. His snorting was loud and disruptive, it even kept Jonesy up until the late hours of the night. It made him very sour and tired, but he pressed on. He tip-toed out of the room and made his way down to the lobby. He was greeted by the smell of waffles and fresh bread. Sometimes the hotels had a great spread and sometimes all they were offered was fruit.

"Good morning, Mr. Jones!" Robert was cheery. His morning activities were heard by all, being the sound that ultimately woke Jimmy. 

"Good morning." He said as he took a seat next to the guitarist. He was scraping butter on a piece of bread, a bitter look on his pale face. 

"What's the matter with you, Jim? Isn't this a glorious morning?" Robert asked, rather enforced. 

"No."

"Well, why not? The sun is shining and the birds are chirping. Take a deep breath," he stopped to dramatically inhale with a fluid sniffle, "can't you feel the marrow of life filling your lungs? It's just beautiful." He was smiling now, an arm slung around Lorelei.

"He's lovesick, don't you know?" Jonesy smirked with a coy expression. 

Robert matched his manner and spoke once more, "Ah, yes, fair Gwen. How is the lass?"

"I haven't spoken to her in two days. I feel as if I am shriveling up." He rested his chin in his palm and sighed. The dramatics of his emotions was amusing to his friends. Never had they seen him so distraught over a woman. He was a man not to be tied down. Now he was doing the unthinkable. Settling down with an American woman? Abstaining from groupies? It was a ghastly sight.

"It seems our friend is in love."

"Who is he talking about?" Lorelei asked.

"A lovely little photographer we met a few months back. It seems he is enchanted by her."

"More than enchanted. Enlightened." No one had heard Jimmy speak with such emotion or conviction, not in matters of romance, anyway. 

"Is that so?"

"I would marry her if she asked. And I mean it, really marry. I would give up everything for her."

"What is she like?" Lorelei wasted no time making herself comfortable with the band. She was friendly in that way, very open and loving. This was one of the reasons Robert was drawn to her.

"She's incredible. Smart, funny, talented, and driven. And the best part, she's also a witch. We do spells together, cook, read together. She even appreciates my music. We were made for each other, a perfect yin and yang."

"Wow, she sounds great. I can see why you're so smitten."

"Much, much more than smitten. I am in love."

"In love?" She giggled. It was like watching a play. This was his monologue, the part in the production where he addressed the audience with his deepest feelings.

"It is a big deal, we're all very proud of him. Jimmy doesn't really have emotions."

"I absolutely do. I just don't want to share them all the time. You are so wanton with your emotions, wearing that heart of yours on your sleeve."

"You’re both annoying in your own special ways," Richard said. He settled the civil argument. They were always in competition. They were like two women pulling hair and scratching at one another.

When breakfast was finished, Bonzo showed up in the last moments, and Jimmy went back to writing his letter. He told Gwen all about Robert's new woman. She was nice and looked just like Robert. Blues eyes, curly blonde hair, and a big heart. They could be twins. He was satisfied with his writing and sealed the envelope, stamping it with the necessary information. He would have Peter drop it off at the post office before the show.

"Do you think they liked me?" Lorelei asked, looking in the mirror at her shapely frame.

 She was wearing a simple Summer dress and red sandals. She looked like a child of the sun, a real hippie type. Robert enjoyed her look of sun-kissed skin and bright seaport eyes. 

"I'm sure they loved you, just as I do." She giggled at his remark and settled into his embrace. "This tour is going to be great." She sighed.

"Oh, I think so."

-

She woke first the morning after their first meeting. The white sheets wrapped around her body, his too, and knitted them together. She could feel his warmth and could smell him all over her. 

She sat up this morning and watched him. She reminisced on the night before, the scenes of the club. She could still feel the ache of him between her thighs. 

He woke not long after her when she made a break for the bathroom. The shifting weight on the mattress alerted him to her presence. He was happy she hadn’t left. Something about her stirred something up in him. Something good. 

"How did you sleep?"

"Oh, fine. Fine, yeah." 

Her mask of courage became muddled in the light of the morning, completely washing away under their sober glances. Today would be the day she was on the curb, to be gone before lunch. She knew how it worked and wasn't too excited for the feeling she would be left with. She could see it now: seated in the comfortable, plush chair in her aunt's dining room, plunging a tea bag into tepid water as she watched birds outside her kitchen window. The familiar ticking of her Grandfather Clock, chiming as she was filled with malaise. She felt this way when Ritchie told her to leave and when David made other plans. She was discarded, dismantled like a display case, ready to be stored away until next season.

She could hear Juniper’s voice now, trying to quell her tears. She would brush her manicured fingers through her blonde hair and coo her into sleep. She could feel the lullaby tears and hear the dejection. 

“Good,” he nodded. 

It was quiet for a moment. Peter and Bonzo were yammering away in the next room. Their strange accents were muffled through the walls and entered her ears like a patch of cotton fluff, sounding more foreign than ever. 

Her skin itched. Her sweat from the night before dried to her fleshy frame and was now creating an unpleasant smell. She wanted out of this, wished for him to jettison her already. 

“Well, love, I was going to wait until after breakfast to ask, but that seems too far. You are just so lovely, so effervescent,” he spoke with a smirk. His voice crept from around the sides of his throat and rattled with a sexy softness, with a rasp of the morning, “and forgive me if I sound eager, but I just couldn’t keep away from you.” 

She raised a brow. Was he nervous? 

He laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m not making any sense, am I?” 

She laughed too. The pressure had shifted from her to him in a confusing instant. “No, I’m afraid not.” 

“Okay, let me just be frank with you. I’d like you to accompany me on the rest of the tour.”

His words surprised her. They pushed all thoughts of that lonely little house away. No more days in the sallow sun, waiting for the next band to come to town. He’d solved all the rainy days with one utterance. 

His feminine allure was what drew her in. There was something so demure about him, so gentle. But he was definitely a man. The soaring heights of his voice were a testament to his femininity, the depths of his bluesy tone a measure of his status as a man. Last night was no different. He undilated between soft and gruff, man and woman. This pleased her, getting to see him unfettered.

He was beautiful. His features were rounded, but altogether angular. 

"I would love to!" She didn't question his motivation or intention. He wanted her here with him and that was enough. It was better not to dwell on reality. Everything was a lot more fun if you indulged yourself in the fantasy of love and romance, plunging yourself into the throes of excitement. And with Robert, there would be nothing but excitement. He was a Leo, after all.

He was smitten with her as well. Perhaps it was vanity, their appearances being almost a perfect match. He needed a woman who could keep up with him and she was it. All night she ran alongside him, never once breaking her stride or lulling in speed. She wasn't cocky or too sure of herself. But she had an air of confidence to her and that's all he needed to see. She was lovely, so why shouldn't he indulge? Then he found that she was a genuine soul, which was where the trouble began. 

"That is wonderful, love! I’m excited to spend my days with you, seeing you standing front row." A lopsided smile played on his lips as he spoke. Unbridled ego stood before him, plastered to his face. 

He was a man with the world in his hands. No was not a word that he heard. It was uttered by himself and his bandmates, but never by someone standing in his presence. Although he liked her, it was the reflection of himself in her that he was loving more than the sea-front room of her blues eyes. He had no doubt she would say yes.

"I would love nothing more." 

She was floating, tucked away in a cloud of a dream. This was the fantasy she engaged in. She wasn't reaching the heavens through the heart, she was being sat on a high shelf, one that only Robert could reach, but could get down from whenever he pleased. This was the condition of being an attendant to these men, a road wife. It was mutually assured destruction in some ways, the lack of responsibility. He didn't have to commit to her and she got to avoid the real world for three months, locked away in utter bliss. These two dreamers spent the morning lying in each other's arms, learning absolutely everything they could about one another.

-

“You can look, but you can’t touch,” she playfully asserted. The club lights illuminated her pale skin. They were bathed in blue and pink light. 

His eyes narrowed, cut sapphire focused on polished ruby lips, “is that so? That doesn’t sound like any fun,” he took the olive from her drink and put it in his mouth, crunching with an equally sinister smile. 

She pursed her lips together in an attempt to hide how smitten she’d become. He was cracking her facade. Soon he would see how deep she was in. 

“Oh, don’t go silent on me now. You had so much to say just a moment ago. Care to share what’s on your mind, Lorelei?” He asked. He was devilish. Greedy. He wanted her all to himself and he would do anything to keep her there, but she couldn’t know that. She couldn’t know he was just as gone as she. 

She quirked a brow. “You wouldn’t want to know. That’s… unbecoming of a young lady.” 

He was cracked now. A chuckle bubbled from the pits of his stomach and he shook his head, eyes cast downward. She couldn’t see her effect, couldn’t see that his pupils were blown to the edges of his irises. He was falling already. Ten minutes and he was tangled in her web. For the night, at least.  

“I will have you know that I enjoy a devilish dance, a walk on the wild side.”

“Is that so?” 

She knew he was used to getting what he wanted. He was a golden god, a man who was becoming increasingly successful and powerful. He had made his rounds with the ladies of the scene and took no prisoners. He wasn’t known to be as harsh as Jimmy, but deathly charming all the same. He was a knockout, a beautiful man. She could have him for the night no issue, but what was to come was what she feared. 

“Why don’t you find out?” He quipped, hoping his brazen desire would assist her into his bed. 

For a moment she thought about it, but just one. She couldn’t dottle on her answer. Flashes of the David fiasco entered her mind, but no sooner did they leave as they arrived. In a similarly quick fashion, she imagined being in his bed, what it would feel, sound, and taste like. She then thought about what it would be like when she inevitably had to leave it. 

She put her drink down and turned to him. “Okay. Show me the way, lover”. 

Jimmy watched from the booth. He watched the two work away, watched as they began the play. And he watched as the curtains were drawn and they sought refuge in the comfort of a backstage bedroom. He was left alone in the sticky booth sipping on his whiskey, thinking of what Gwen would have to say about it all. 

-------------

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy , @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin​ , @jimmysdragonsuit13​

#jimmy page #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #Jimmy Page smut #capricorn season #jimbert #jimbert fan fic #robert plant imagine #robert plant #robert plant fanfiction #led zeppelin #writing #fanfiction #worldpoetryday #love #poetry #excerpts from my life #excerpts of stories

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

And a WIP Music Monday

Tagged by @thesingularityseries @direwombat @heroofshield @marivenah @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @g0dspeeed @cloudofbutterflies92 @voidika @simplegenius042 @carlosoliveiraa for either writing tags or music monday. Thank you all so much!! <3

Tagging: @strangefable @kyber-infinitygems @la-grosse-patate @josephseedismyfather @statichvm @clicheantagonist @amalkavian @justasmolbard @finding-comfort-in-rain @cassietrn

opt in/out for cod stuff

song first:

I am still stuck in my creative drought but at least I have a little bit of writing. Working slowly but surely on my cod prequel fic, so here's a bit from chapter 13. In this installment of WIP Wednesday, enjoy two assholes trapped in a helicopter suffering with awkward sexual tension aka just another work day for Price and Rory:

“You know Arabic, yeah? Fluent, I hope.”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest and adjusted her position in her seat, a grin curling the corner of her lips. “Perhaps this time I can have you saying derogatory things without your prior knowledge.”

Giving a low chuckle, he brought the cigar to his lips and took a long drag. “Now that would make things interestin’, wouldn’t it?” The smoke streamed past his lips, the orange glow burning in his eyes through the shade of his cap. “I’d prefer if we didn’t start any international incidents ‘cause you had to be a smart ass though.”

Huffing out a laugh, she pressed her head back against the rest behind her. “Fair enough. It’ll be easier just letting you blunder the pronunciation anyway.”

His brow lifted, giving her a sideways glance without turning his head, keeping her in his periphery. “You gonna keep causing me headaches?”

“No, I just think we need to agree that while Russia was where your strength lies, we’re heading into mine.”

Sucking on his cigar hanging in a clenched jaw, his brow furrowed. “You do remember I’ve fought over there myself, yeah?”

“But you didn’t spend your entire career there like me. Unless you’ve eaten goat by a fire while swapping stories with village elders in their native language, I suggest you take at least some of my judgment on things seriously. Or is it because I’m a subordinate that it’s not good enough for you?”

“S’pose it’s ‘cause you’ve slept with me,” he muttered under his breath, his face remaining serious until it cracked, giving her a teasing smirk.

Unable to help but giggle at the implication, Rory bit her lip to stifle it from growing into a full on laugh. “Okay,” she said, nodding slowly. “I see how we’re playing now.”

Price barked out a chuckle at her reaction, smugly shifting back into his seat.

“Fucking hell, you’ve become quite the comedian with me.” Her voice dropped so only he could hear it. “You get one little kiss and now all of a sudden the stoic soldier routine fades away, eh?”

“It was more than a little kiss –” He whispered as he leaned down towards her, looking up through his brow. 

They were inches from each other, eyes locked on one another. Invading her personal space, trying to remain the dominant force, Price waited there as if he were expecting her to make a move despite being strapped into a moving military vehicle. The smoke coiled around her, his breath fanning against her face. Did he really think she would just break regulation like that? She cocked her brow and sighed, pulling out her pack of cigarettes from her tactical pants and tapped the corner of it against her thigh. “I said I just wanted to work, not be a distraction.”

“You’re not.” His words came out bluntly, his features cold once more, gaze unfeeling, unreadable. Shifting back into his seat, he crossed his arms and mirrored her position beside him. Mouth drawn tight, he bit down on the cigar he'd placed between his lips, smoke billowing from his nostrils.

“Oh, I’m not?”

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not. You and I have both been through the same training. A little flirting – any feelings we might have – they aren’t getting in the way of the mission.”

“Sure about that?”

“You do know you’re not the only woman I’ve ever worked with, yeah?”

She hummed, unconvinced. “Did you sleep with the others too?”

He growled softly, mumbling around his cigar, “Touche.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said confidently, slipping a cigarette out from the pack in her hand and placing it to her lips.

“I’m a professional, Sergeant. So are you,” he grumbled, “Stop trying your damn luck with me.”

The cigarette sat between her lips as she gave him a little salute with two fingers against her forehead, the lighter still held in her hand. 

“You’re trouble, goddammit.” He shook his head and settled back in his seat, gripping the shoulders of his vest once more with a heavy sigh.

Her voice was muffled as she spoke around her cigarette bouncing on its perch upon her lip. “Bet you’re really regretting Laswell’s choice now, eh?”

“Not unless you give me a reason to, darlin’,” he said, nose scrunching with annoyance. “Don’t test my bloody patience.”

Taking a drag of her cigarette, she couldn’t help but want to keep picking at him. He had tried to make her feel small a moment ago, reminding her of her weakness, of how she apparently needed him according to his evaluation. “Did you think I was suddenly going to fawn over you because you actually admitted to having feelings for me, Price?”

The little tic of his tightening tendons in his jaw was plain as day, she was playing with fire and she knew it. If there was any way to describe the Captain it was a persistent pursuit predator – of course the way he worked would bleed into his life. The man wouldn’t know romance if it bit him in the arse, wooing certainly wasn’t his style. She already expected him to keep trying to wear her down until she would eventually give in, say yes, and he would get what he wanted. Perhaps what they both wanted…but she wasn’t able to quite so readily admit that yet. 

“Would’ve been nice if you made it easy for me.”

“You’re a special forces captain, you like the challenge.”

Price brought a hand to her upper thigh, his long fingers clenching around the meat of her,  squeezing tight. “Goddamn right I do,” he said with a low chuckle.

#wip wednesday #wip music monday #fic: all along the watchtower #ship: you are the sword to my shield #oc: rory sinclair #captain john price #Spotify

[burntsecrets]

What It's Like to Spend a Rainy Day with Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 272

You and Eddie are snuggled up on your couch

You with your body wedged in the right corner of the sofa, your feet propped up on an ottoman

Eddie, with his head in your lap, his brown curls fanned out across your thighs

You have a book in one hand as your other hand lazily twines a curl of Eddie’s around your finger before letting it go and doing it again to another one

Led Zeppelin’s album Led Zeppelin III turns on the record player

The dulcet tones of “Since I’ve Been Loving You” has Eddie closing his eyes and softly bopping his head along

When the chorus hits, Eddie starts to sing along

A smile curves your lips, and you mark your place in your book as you glance down at him

His eyes open, and make direct eye contact with you as he serenades you with his raspy singing voice

When the guitar solo starts, he gently grabs your left arm and pretends it's his guitar

His fingers dance along your skin, matching chords and melodies

A slow-warming feeling starts in your core as you gaze lovingly at him

Everything from the freckles across his nose, and the curve of his plush lips, along with his touch, are turning you on

You clench your thighs together to get some friction

As the song comes to an end, Eddie stands up from the couch and extends a hand out to you, a knowing smirk on his mouth

You clasp his hand with yours as he pulls down the hallway into your bedroom to show you all the ways he loves you

If you'd like to be tagged in future Eddie Munson fics, please fill out this form: https://forms.gle/7XUQmP1GzfthYCdx6

Taglist:

#eddie munson #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #the hellfire club #eddie the freak munson #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things s4 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x female oc #corroded coffin

[siriuslovebot]

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛!

i’m aubrey. i’m 22 years old and from the us. slytherin. infp. cancer sun, scorpio moon, scorpio rising. i’ve been writing for many years but finally decided to make a dedicated hp blog. my main is opcnarms, where i will follow/interact from as this is a sideblog. you can find me on wattpad as blushdraco.

as far as my personal interests go i’m obviously a huge harry potter dork. i also love music, particularly classic rock such as fleetwood mac, the beatles, queen, the rolling stones, led zeppelin, etc. i’m also a big fan of harry styles, greta van fleet, the lumineers, bon iver, and more! other shows/movies i like include: outerbanks, criminal minds, american horror story, twilight. as far as books go, there are way too many to mention but i am an avid reader and i have a lot of faves. i’m very active, work full time in health care, and try to travel and spend time outdoors as much as possible. updates may be slow but i’ll be writing for fun so i’ll post as often as i can.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜/𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜!

requests are currently: 𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 ˖ ࣪⭑

any smut fics i write are strictly minors dni. all fics containing adult content will have warnings applied. the characters i write in smut fics are all adults (18+) even if not explicitly stated.

i will accept requests, so long as they are marked open on my page. i’m okay with writing pretty much anything; i pretty much draw the line at anything pertaining to human excrement (scat/urine/vomit,etc). i’m okay with dubcon, more hesitant with noncon depending on situation, but it never hurts to ask! any adult content will be marked as such, and content warnings will be applied so please refer to those if you may be sensitive to certain things.

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[wordynerdygurl]

Someone to Watch Over Me

Part 1:  “Love is Blind”

Author’s Note:  Do you think the Duffer’s realized what they were doing when they brought Eddie Munson to life on paper?  I don’t think so.  Because it’s been, what, nine or so months now, and I’m still all in on my favorite ne’er do well metal head.

This is my first time with an Original Character standing in for “reader”.  Just like with my reader insert fics, our OC is female and plus size. Pairing:  Eddie Munson x Plus Size OC Amanda Patterson Summary:  It’s love at first sound, pitch perfect and fated, everything in harmony.  If only life were a love song.  

Amanda and Eddie meet by chance but their connection is real.  Some night music and milkshakes maybe all it takes to show that Hawkins’ resident bad boy is worthy of love.  The kind of love a misfit like Amanda is ready to give to the right guy.  Have they each found the right someone to watch out for them? Warnings:  This is a slower burn than my usual, but I think it’ll be worth it.  There will be SMUT in additional chapters, but for now, there’s making out, eating a lot of junk food, some size shaming and self doubt.  Oh, and a character gets slapped.

“There’s a saying old, says that love is blind”

1990

“So, Eddie, how’s the tour been going?”

Pulling a long strand of dark hair over his cheek, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to break, Eddie raised his dark eyes to the reporter asking the questions, ignoring the video camera and boom mic hovering overhead.  It took everything in him to keep the sarcastic edge in his tone to a minimum, “Well, Chuck, it’s been a helluva time.  Me and the boys, we’re just taking what comes.  It’s been fuckin’ amazing to see so many cities and of course, our fans.” “Oopsie!  Can’t curse like that, Eddie.  Can we cut around that?”  Chuck was asking some producer, talking over Eddie’s head, ignoring him all in the name of being appropriate for television.  Already he was over this whole experience.  What Eddie really wanted was to get back to the green room, have a beer or a smoke- scratch that.  And a smoke, before having to play tonight’s show.

The conversation around editing was still happening, Eddie’s interview on pause.  It gave him a minute to evaluate the man asking the questions.  Smarmy, yea, that’s the word Eddie would use for a guy like Chuck.  Hair slicked back and suit a little too colorful to be classy, the guy was cheesy as hell, but he was going to film a piece about the band.  Something for MTV to use in promos or some shit.  Eddie didn’t really care to know.  There were people for that now.  The same people who kept assuring him that there was no such thing as bad publicity.  Not when there was a nationwide tour that needed to sell tickets and t-shirts and records, so he bit his tongue and smiled sheepishly, waiting for the next question. “We rolling?  Great.  Ok, ready Eddie?” Nodding in answer, Eddie gave him the green light.  The interviewer tapped his finger against the skinny microphone in his hand, picking up seamlessly from where they had stopped earlier, “That’s good to hear.  Now, Corroded Coffin plays specifically metal but who has influenced your musical journey?  Which artists do you listen to?” Blowing out an exhale, his lips parting, Eddie thought for a minute.  “Ya know, all the greats Chuck.  I mean, I cut my teeth on Led Zeppelin.  Heart, Black Sabbath, obviously-” he rolled his eyes for emphasis, “-Iron Maiden and Metallica.  You play metal music and I’m there, man.” Chuck nodded along, agreeing with everything coming out of Eddie’s mouth, trying way too hard to seem interested.  He seemed more like a Madonna kinda guy, too caught up in the look of something to worry about its substance.  It grated on Eddie’s nerves, set his teeth on edge. “Gotcha.  So, the people want to know-” Chuck drug out the question, clearly enjoying the way he baited his interviewee, “-What is Eddie Munson’s favorite song?” Toffee colored eyes widened.  Despite the movement around him, the roadies hauling in speakers and gear, the conversations between stage crew and security guards, the clicking of boot heels on parquet flooring, Eddie could hear it.  His favorite song.  Clear and distinct, the memory a perfectly preserved bubble of sight and sound.  From over his shoulder someone coughed, bringing Eddie back to the here and now.  “Uh, sorry.  Didn’t mean to zone out there.” “Don’t worry, we’ll edit it out.”  Chuck’s hand made a motion urging him to continue. Eddie’s ring laden right hand rubbed across the skin on the back of his neck, internally debating just how real to be with his response.  In the end, Eddie told the whole truth.  He spilled one of his deeply held secrets to a douche bag with gelled back hair and a smile that was too much teeth. Looking directly into the bubbled lens of the video camera, Eddie offered up a reluctant, almost embarrassed smile, “My favorite song?  That’s a great question, man.  And, uh, ya know, I wanna say something hard rocking and fast.  But honestly?  Someone to Watch Over Me by the Gershwin brothers.” Eddie’s voice was practically a whisper at his admission.  He was ready for a ribbing.  A hard rocker like him, known for bad boy behavior and leaving a lady behind in every city?  No way Eddie Munson could possibly be a romantic at heart, right? Fully expecting a laugh from smarmy Chuck, some jab about the softness of his choice, or a comment on it being a standard, something old fashioned or behind the times.  But Eddie only heard the insipid agreement of the interviewer, “Great song.  A classic.” “Yea.  It is.”

—

1987

It had always come naturally to Amanda.  She opened her mouth and the sound just came out, warm and round, with the right amount of inflection and sweetness of tone.  Singing was what she did.  From the time she could talk, Amanda was making music, using her body as the instrument. Church choir taught her how to sight read sheet music, her voice moving up and down the scale in time with the half and quarter notes.  Learning how to let her high Soprano melt in with the other members of the chorus so that no individual could be heard over another.  Discovering the power of dynamics; an effective hushed line that built into a climaxing crescendo, the rush of belting out a powerful note with all of the choir members doing the same.  Amanda continued to discover the best ways to utilize her voice, really only ever happy when she was humming or whistling or belting out a tune. One Christmas there was a tawny wooden guitar under the tree.  She carried it with her everywhere she could.  Teaching herself the chords from a beginner’s guide until she could play “Frosty the Snowman” without stopping.  And her unquestionable love of music grew with every new song she memorized until the entire book had faded from overuse. There were high school musicals, of course.  Grease, Annie, Guys and Dolls, Anything Goes.  And even if she was always the sidekick with no solo, hanging around in the back of the chorus lines, she loved performing.  Being on a stage, with the lights and excitement, the tension of anxiety turning into the power needed to propel her through the show.  Amanda lived for the thrill of it.  Something could go wrong or things could go incredibly right.  In either case, you could never truly know which way it would play out until it was happening.  Then, the curtain would fall and there would be bows and applause. Amanda loved the spotlight, absolutely and unequivocally.  Only, the spotlight didn’t love her back. Her round, full cheeks wouldn’t do to play Sandy.  The curvy, womanly figure she’d grown into wouldn’t work for Annie or Pepper or even Mrs. Hannigan.  Despite the lovely, lyrical quality to her voice, it wasn’t enough to outweigh her looks. So Amanda sang out loud and long from the back row of the chorus, her robe tight across her ample chest.  She learned the simple choreography for musical numbers and was told, “you’re so light on your feet” as if it was shocking to see.  Every year was a new chance to gain that place in the middle of the stage, singing for all she was worth for everyone to hear, but never making it due to a healthy appetite which made her soft in the places where people would rather she be firm. It was the bitterest of pills, but she swallowed it, happy just to be involved.  Pleased to have her name printed in the program as a participant even if she was living off of the scraps of lesser performers who just so happened to look prettier under the hot stage lamps.  She accepted hugs from the pretty boys who tried on singing and dancing as a way to meet girls, but wouldn’t give her a second glance.  The boys who saw her as the funny, talented friend of the group.  Always happy to drive everyone home, listen to everyone’s troubles, offering sage advice and asking for nothing in return.  That was Amanda.

All too soon, school was ending.  Over.  And college loomed in front of her, full of promise and secret worries.

She knew what she wanted, what she had always wanted.  It had never changed despite the wacky directors who hid her behind scaffolding or pushed her to the dim corners of the stage.  Amanda was on the earth to do one thing only: make beautiful music. It was, after all, her favorite thing to do. Unfortunately, it was also incredibly difficult to make a career out of, something her parents constantly felt the need to remind her about.  They only wanted what was best for her, that’s what they said anyways.  And what was best, in the opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Patterson, was a steady job as a hairdresser or nurse or preschool teacher.  Anything really to fill the gap until she met “the one”, got married and started having their grandchildren. Too bad Amanda loved the music so much more.  It had taken a lot of work, hours and hours of debating and shouting but somehow she had convinced them to let her go to school for music.  The catch?  She’d also study education.  It was a compromise Amanda was willing to make, just to get her foot in the door.  Worst case?  She’d wind up a music department chair at some high school or another, a great back up plan to her real dream: musical super stardom like Linda Rondstadt or Carol King. Only, school was expensive, especially when you were trying to make music your career.  And her parents did as much as they could, which she was incredibly grateful for, but everything cost so damn much.  So, almost broke and entirely desperate, Amanda searched around until finding a part time position at The Music Shop.  She started selling sheet music and drum sticks, auto tuners and guitar straps from a squat building painted an obnoxious shade of ocean blue that could be seen for miles in any direction. Occasionally there’d be a student in need of some musical mentoring and she’d drag out her acoustic guitar, the tawny one she kept in its cardboard case after all these years.  Showing them where to hold their fingers and how to press against the tough strings in order to get a pretty sound out of the instrument brought her a lot of joy.  It was still making music and that was enough for her between class work and socializing and generally trying to be a good person. The college classes related to music and music theory were fascinating.  Her collection of records and tapes had grown significantly.  It seemed as though every new person she talked to had a list of bands she “just had to listen to” and Amanda did. How could she ever thank her roommate’s boyfriend for turning her on to Lou Reed?  Did she live before knowing all the words to Pirates of Penzance?  How did Whitney Houston sound so incredible all of the time?

Writing a paper on the importance of Tom Petty’s ability to pen pretty lyrics, Amanda found herself surrounded by like minded musical folks.  She was invited to parties where everyone sang along to the radio, getting rowdy in the tame way theater kids everywhere are prone to do.  Drinking beers was fun.  Smoking cigarettes killed her throat through and Amanda refused to damage her instrument with nicotine like that.  Besides, she couldn’t afford them anyway. When she wasn’t studying or singing or stocking, Amanda did gig out.  Sometime during her first semester she had been approached by Jim, a cellist, Mark, a drummer and Carly, a pianist.  Having met the threesome at someone or other’s pre-Thanksgiving break bash, Amanda hadn’t realized it right away but she was casually auditioning for their band.  Not once did her size come up.  All the three seemed to care about was how quickly they could get her into a rehearsal.  They had a jazz trio and wanted someone to vocalize for them, someone with a soft tone, an easy timber that could get them playing in front of bigger crowds.  That she blended in with their group dynamic made it an easy fit and soon, the four of them were playing shows together all over the area and regularly too. Now, well into her third year at school, Amanda had a good idea of what her life was going to look like.  She would work the store, teaching a couple of private students the ways of the guitar, and sing out with the band on the weekends.  If they happened to get a wee bit drunk after a show, who could blame them?  After all, they were barely twenty and the world still had so much left to show them. At the music shop, one late September Saturday, Amanda took a minute to hang up the flier for Hawkins’ Autumn Concert Series.  Their quartet had been asked to entertain, practicing for weeks now getting the set list perfect for their biggest concert yet.  Smiling happily to herself, she gently forced the pushpin into the cork board where the typical announcements of used instruments for sale, lessons for keyboard or piano, and imploring alerts for new band members all co-existed in a colorful, clashing collage. Stepping backwards, Amanda wasn’t entirely paying attention, her mind already drifting to the highlight of the performance.  What she was going to wear, how she’d do her hair, all the little details that she liked to get right in an effort to make sure that the show went off without a hitch.  That’s how she missed the fellow who was crouched down behind her, ringed hands reaching for the Iron Maiden song book that was propped up on the bottom shelf. Her booted foot hit something solid, something that shouldn’t be in the aisle, and she turned quickly.  A blur of black leather and curls flew upwards fast.  The joint of her ankle rolled and Amanda reached out blindly, connecting with a solid wall of a person, holding on with a death grip to keep on her feet. Holy shit, did this chick have pretty eyes.  It was his first thought and boy, was it a doozy.  Eddie could see the shock clearing as worry crept in, crowding around the wide irises, her lips parted in a panicked “o”.  Clipped nails clawed into the denim vest he always wore, holding herself upright against the unfair tug of gravity, her forearms pressed tightly to his chest.  Bringing a steadying hand to her wrist, he shook his head, shyly smiling, “You alright there?  Took a bit of a tumble, didn’t ya?” Inhaling shakily, Amanda nodded dumbly, her heart still thrumming.  Still standing much too close to a stranger.  She had been certain of falling but having this, this guy break that fall, was disconcerting in an entirely different way.  “Oh, I am so sorry!  I didn’t see you, and-” “Hey, it’s ok.  No harm done, so long as you’re ok.  You are ok, right?”  There was a brief flash of concern that crossed his face, but it faded when Amanda bobbed her head at his question. She hadn’t moved.  Eddie was still looking down at her upturned face, the way her hair fell softly against her cheeks and the sweet sweep of her nose making her look about as precious as he had ever had the pleasure to see.  Eddie didn’t want to look away. For another beat they stood there, together, surrounded by score books and tutorial materials while an instrumental version of “Don’t Stop Believing” played through the store speakers.  Shifting in his Reeboks, Eddie swayed to the melody and Amanda let herself be carried along with him.  In another second, Amanda was certain that she would wrap his arms around her waist and call it a day.  Already, Eddie’s free hand was sliding towards her shoulder, another point of contact with this unknown, but very cute, man. “Yo!  Amanda?  Are you-”  Kyle’s voice cut through the force field around the pair.  At the sound of her manager’s shout she panic jumped back far enough to thud against the very cork board which held her proudly hung announcement, knocking the air out of her lungs with a grunted, “Oof!” “Jesus!  What are you doing?”  

Amanda’s eyes went wide at Kyle’s intrusion, and she pressed a hand to her chest to stop her startled heart from bursting free from the unused adrenaline, “Me?  Kyle, you scared the crap out of me!” Eddie’s head had snapped towards the interruption before pivoting back to the pretty lady he now knew was called Amanda.  His hand reached for hers reflexively, to help steady her, the same shy grin tugging at his lips.  That she took it and held it like a lifeline sent a zig-zag of energy from his fingertips straight to the muscles of his tummy which tightened at the contact. One of Kyle’s eyebrows shot skyward, his face skeptical, “What’s going on over here, anyway?”  He asked as if he already knew the answer, questioning eyes full of judgment. Amanda’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly.  What was going on back here?  She didn’t know, really. Luckily, Eddie did.  “Uh, your beautiful sales associate was just helping me find this-” holding up the song book with Iron Maiden’s logo splashed across the cover, he continued, “-and uh, then you came around the corner and, ya know, scared her half to death.” “Were you dancing?” Sneaking a quick glance her way, Eddie chuckled, “Dancing?  While she’s supposed to be working?  Naw man.  Like I said, she was helping me out.” His arms crossed over his chest, Kyle stared directly at Amanda, all but demanding her side of the story.  Running a palm up her neck, leaning into her hand, she exhaled loudly, “He’s- he’s right, Kyle.  I was just giving him, ya know, a hand.” Narrowing his eyes, not believing either of them, Kyle groaned in frustration, “Fine.  Whatever.  Just, I had a question for you.  Ya know, when you’re free?” Nodding, “Sure.  Yea, of course.  Just um-” she gestured towards Eddie, “-Give me a minute, ok?” “Yea.  Ok.”  Snorting, Kyle moved back towards the register, leaving Eddie and Amanda alone once more. Blinking those amazing eyes his way, Amanda locked her hands together to keep from touching the broad boy in front of her anymore, “So, thank you.  I’m not entirely sure what was going on, but I’m glad I don’t have to explain it to my boss.” “Right.  Well, I’m sorry for tripping you up.  Covering for you seemed like the least I could do.” Amanda heard the store’s music shift, something by Annie Lennox filling the space, and she took a tentative step away from Eddie causing him to lean forward, “Wait-” “Yea?”  Her hair swung over her shoulder, that’s how fast she spun around to face him, her stare open and curious. Nervously, Eddie bit his bottom lip as he rocked on the worn down heels of his sneakers.  For the first time in as long as he could remember he was almost unsure of what to say, “Uh, can I see you again?” Amanda didn’t laugh in his face and she didn’t shy away, both reactions he fully expected if he was honest about it.  Instead, and to his utter amazement, she reached behind her, yanking down the flier she’d only just hung up, “Absolutely.”  And she pushed the paper into his hand before scurrying toward Kyle. Shit.  He was in trouble already. Waiting just another couple of minutes, Eddie made his way to the cashier, patiently standing behind a flustered mom and her teenage son.  That the kid kept trying to get her to look at the cherry red electric guitar and amp set, already staged for Christmas, wasn’t lost on Eddie.  It’s exactly the type of gear he’d lusted after when he was young and eager, before he’d gotten his Sweetheart, and never looked back. Mind wandering, he didn’t hear her at first, “I can help you over here, sir.” Tilting his head towards her voice, Eddie took a shuffling step toward her register, “Ah, thank you, miss.” “No problem.”  But it most definitely was a problem, because Amanda couldn’t lift her gaze his way.  Not when her body rolled over hot at the memory of his chest under her fingers, his brown eyes peering down at her with sweet desire in their burnt caramel depths. Amanda punched in the code numbers, reading the price sticker and busying herself with recording the sale correctly.  “Amanda?  What’s the price for the Fender capo?” “Twelve fifty!”  It’s automatic and Eddie was astonished at how she kept focused on his sale while answering her colleague from memory. Finally, she raised her face to find Eddie’s smiling one already looking in her direction, and struggling to keep the flush of her embarrassment in control managed to ask, “Is uh, is there anything else today?” “Naw, Amanda.  I think this’ll do it.”  Giggling, a bit more timid now that she was safe behind the counter, Amanda bagged up the book and relayed the total.  Eddie pulled the bills out of his wallet, his chains clinking together musically, as Amanda made change for him quickly and precisely.  When he grabbed for the package, his fingers rested over her own for just a heartbeat, “I’ll see you soon then.  And uh, thanks for the dance, Amanda.” Stunned, all she could do was stand there, confused at the Dio patched metal head who pushed through the doorway and onto the street.  Under her breath, Amanda swore, “Fuck.  He knows my name.” —

Eddie didn’t know what he was supposed to wear to an outdoor concert in Hawkins Memorial Park at the beginning of October.  Was it a jacket and tie sort of situation?  Were jeans enough?  Was he going to stick out like a sore thumb if he was wearing a Metallica t-shirt? All of these questions and more burned through the bong ripped brain of Eddie Munson.  Pacing in front of his mirror, he fluffed his hair with his fingers, fidgety and fussing.  “Dude.  You’re fine.  What’s the big deal anyway?” Fixing Dustin with a stare that would wither lesser beings, Eddie folded down the collar of his red checkered flannel shirt, “The big deal?  I’ll tell you, Henderson.  The big deal is-” grabbing for his well used bottle of Aqua Velva and splashing a few shakes into his hands, “-I don’t wanna look like a jerk.  I want to blend in.  Just uh, enjoy some new music, and a nice night.” “Psst.  Bullshit.  Who’s the chick?” His eyes widened.  How could the little butthead know?  Eddie hadn’t said a word about the music store beauty and still, somehow, the pipsqueak was calling him out. “What chick?  Who said chick?  There’s no chick.” “Me thinks thou doth protest too much.” Pausing while he fiddled with the buttons on the sleeves of his shirt, confusion filling his face, Eddie blinked, “Wha?” “It’s Shakespeare.  You protest too much ‘cause, ya know, you’re covering up.”  Frustrated, Dustin shook his head, closing his eyes as he exhaled heavily, “Nevermind.  You’re clearly lying.  Tell me about her.  Who is she?” Looking over at his youthful friend, Eddie thought about it for a long second.  Tell Dustin about Amanda?  What was there to tell?  Shrugging safely into his shirt, Eddie bought himself some time fiddling with the buttons.  “Uh, well.  I don’t really know her all that well.  We, literally, bumped into each other at the music shop when I was picking up my new bible.”  He was now entirely focused on his hair which had decided to go fluffy.  Disgusted at what he saw, looking more pampered poodle than suave rocker, Eddie continued to run his hands through the curls as he chatted with his sidekick, “She’s uh-” “Pretty?” Dropping his gaze to the top of his dresser, Eddie’s cheeks colored at the word, “Yea.  So cute.  And, she seems smart.  Funny, ya know?” Nodding, Dustin came up behind his friend, plucking a stray hair from his shoulder, “Sounds pretty damn perfect, man.” “I’m sure there’s a catch.  There always is when it comes to women.”  Eddie couldn’t help trying to keep his excitement in check.  It was better to set his expectations low.  Less likely to hurt so bad when someone disappointed him and people always seemed to be disappointing Eddie Munson. Catching his older friend’s eye in the mirror, Dustin offered up a toothless smile, “I don’t know, man.  Maybe she’ll surprise you?” —

People were scattered around the park.  Some hovered near benches, others sat on blankets and a lucky few used their lawn chairs, dragged from home, all to get a good view of the small stage where the quartet would be performing tonight.  It was exciting. Amanda had unpacked her mic and cord, scatting a bit so that the guys could get a level on her voice and ensure a balanced sound through their mixing board.  She didn’t really understand all the technicalities, but in the end it helped make sure that they all sounded as good as possible, so Amanda played along.  “Testing one, two, three- testing one, two, three.  Can y’all hear us out there?” A smattering of claps and one enthusiastic “Woo hoo!” met her question.  Carly’s electric piano came next, banging out a couple of chords, before Jim slid his bow across the strings of his bass.  Not to be excluded, Mark took a couple of rim shots, making them all laugh. Now all that was left was waiting for the start of the show.  Seven o’clock and one of the town’s cultural council staff members used her microphone to blab about why they were hosting this event and to welcome Amanda and the band.  The lawn had filled in a bit, more people milling around which was always a good sign, so Amanda took a deep breath before greeting everyone, “Good evening everyone!  We’re the Indiana Four and we’re going to play for you tonight.  If you like what you hear, there’s a tambourine-” jingling the instrument to get everyone's attention, Amanda added, “-and I’ll leave it right here, in case you wanna put a little something in it!”

It was still too early for a full on sun set, but the sky didn’t know it.  Painted in bold streaks of orange that melted into petal pink due to the rays of the sinking sun, it created a warm glow which outlined everything around them with a gilded golden edge.  The moon was already a ghostly crescent barely visible in the rainbow tinted ether when Amanda let her voice rise into the oncoming night.  Mark counted them in with a broad smile in her direction and Carly’s piano joined the swell of music.  The deeper bass notes of Jim’s cello grounded the opening strains of their first song.  Amanda gently shut her eyes, letting her body feel every word of the song she was singing, just like she would do at home in her shower or behind the wheel of her tiny car.  Unaware of herself and completely at ease, letting her instrument, her voice, blend into the melody the four of them created together. Eddie was never going to get over the sound of her voice.  Sweet and soaring, she seemed to change the quality of its tone depending on the song, always leaving him guessing.  Which version of this lady was going to sing next?  A sultry vixen, heart broken and mournful?  The shy ingenue, new to love?  A plaintive bard, looking for answers?  Or some new character created to enchant him with only the power of her voice? In between songs, Amanda smiled brightly, joking with the people gathered and teasing her band mates playfully.  It made the entire concert feel comfortable- easy.  Like the folks who came down to see them were in on the funniest joke.  All one big, happy family who simply wanted to share music on a random October evening in the middle of Indiana. “Ok everyone, you’ve heard us sing a little of this and a little of that-” wrapping her hands around the microphone, Amanda pulled the silver stick closer, “-but now we’re going to do a favorite of mine, if that’s alright.” At the opening strains from the piano, a couple, older with matching graying hair, stood in front of their chairs and started swaying together, wrapped in each other’s arms.  Amanda’s lips spread in a wide smile pointed in their direction as she started, “There’s a saying old, says that love is blind. Still we’re often told, seek and ye will find. So, I’m gonna seek a certain lad I’ve had in mind.” Moving from the lamp post he had been leaning against, no longer content to watch from the shadows, Eddie stepped directly into Amanda’s line of sight.  She saw him.  How could she miss the leather wrapped, long haired guy who was peering straight into her soul?  And she wanted to look away, give someone, anyone else in the assembled listeners, her attention, but Amanda found that she couldn’t.

Had she expected him to be there?  Shaking her head for the crowd to see answered her own thoughts.  No, Amanda had no idea that the metal loving smooth talker would actually come to seek her out.  But, she had thought about it in the small moments between guitar lessons or while driving to her classes in the morning.

So, no.  Seeing Eddie stand there, bold as brass with his wide eyed stare and his hands in his pockets was not what Amanda had been expecting.  Hoped for, maybe.  Wished for, absolutely.  Reality though was better than anything her mind might have considered. “Looking everywhere, haven’t found him yet He’s the big affair I cannot forget, Only man I ever think of with regret.” Eddie swallowed hard.  The words she was singing wrapped around him on the night’s breeze and held on tight.  It was as if they were having a conversation that no one else could decipher, a conversation for only two. “I’d like to add his initials to my monogram, Tell me, where’s the shepherd for this lost lamb?” And she sounded lost.  Abandoned.  Alone.  Exactly like the type of person that Eddie was collecting for Hellfire or the band.  A person who needed someone like him to shield them from the big bads in life.  A guy who could protect her from the sort of wolves that a shepherd like him knew about all too well. “There’s a somebody I’m longing to see, I hope that he turns out to be Someone to watch over me.”

She was singing just to him.  Only Eddie.  There was no one else to look at, no one else who could understand or appreciate what the lyrics demanded.  “I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood, I know I could always be good To one who'll watch over me”

Eddie felt his smile slide into place.  It wasn’t the wide, dimpled, open grin that showed off his teeth and let you know he was happiest.  No, this smile was small, secret.  It drew his pretty pink tongue over the plush swell of his lips, something Amanda could see from a distance.  Then, just to be coy, his pearly top teeth bit into the pillow cushion of his bottom lip, teasing her from her position on the small stage. Even from this far away, Amanda could see that he had made an effort.  A shirt with a collar was buttoned across his chest, all red and black squares that looked soft and broken in.  Sure, it was still under his leather jacket, but the denim vest must have been left somewhere safe, because he wasn’t sporting the pins and patches that she remembered from their first encounter.  Jeans, dark blue or was it black?  She couldn’t really tell, but it didn’t entirely matter.  Either way, they fit snugly around his thighs and only sported a single torn knee.  The threads stretched across his joint, frayed and begging to be played with. His hair was wild.  It fell in waves of dark tendrils, looking to all the world like no care had been taken in its shaping and styling.  Amanda stretched the fingers of her right hand, the one not holding her mic, imagining how Eddie’s curls would feel wrapped around her fingers. He saw it all.  The way her hand fisted at her side before trailing up the chord of her microphone, tangling the slack in her fingers.  How Amanda let every note have its own moment before the next one rose to join it. “Although he may not be the man some girls think of as handsome, To my heart, he carries the key”

Eyes fluttering shut, Amanda took a breathy inhalation as the melody shifted, daring to break the spell by denying herself the sight of Eddie in the crowd.  Her heart thumped in time with Mark’s gentle drumming, thick hips swaying without her conscious approval, the crowd around her all but forgotten.  Sliding back to the original cadence, the song swelled up and out of Amanda, nearing the end. “Won't you tell him please, to put on some speed, Follow my lead, oh, how I need, Someone to watch over me”

Eddie was transfixed.  There was only him and Amanda and her voice and the falling sun burnishing everything rose golden in the fading light.  He caught the way her skirt curled happily at her ankles with every shift of her feet.  The way her mouth formed around the lyrics.  How her chest rose and fell with each expressive stanza. The words repeated: “Won't you tell him please, to put on some speed Follow my lead, oh, how I need Someone to watch over me”

Amanda let her eyes flutter open.  Closer now, unavoidable and un-ignorable, Eddie was standing directly in front of her.  The final note, held until her lungs burned from want of air, faded into the ether and she winked at him.  She couldn’t help it, really. Not when she had somehow managed to carry on as if the most handsome guy Amanda had ever bumped into wasn’t staring straight into her soul as she sang.  Not when every note was rich and ripe and reverberated across the people packed plaza even if, presently, she sang solely for an audience of one. Applause.  Clapping and whistling came from every corner of the park, jostling Eddie’s attention.  From the stage, Amanda giggled at his reaction, but smoothly covered her response, “We are just so grateful that you all came to see us tonight.  So-” tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a shy smile pointed in Eddie’s direction, she continued, “-we’re going to do one more song before we say goodnight.” She didn’t look at Eddie at all this time.  Amanda wasn’t even sure she could, not after the intensity of singing, to him, for him.  But she could tell he was there all the same, with his elbows bending outward like leather wrapped wings, nervous energy causing him to bounce on his toes in time with the music.

The new melody started and Amanda let it take her away too.  This number is lively, the rhythm more rock than jazz, and she gave herself permission to have a little fun, show off a little bit.  Still, she actively ignored the one set of eyes that didn’t seem to stray from her own through their final song. Soon enough, it was all over and the Indiana Four began breaking down.  A few friendly folks from the audience came up and said kind words.  Luckily there were a few dollars in the tambourine and Amanda happily handed the take to Carly, “Not so bad.” “Not bad at all-” But her friend stopped mid sentence, a voice familiar and still foreign cutting through the conversation, “Um, excuse me?  Amanda?” Turning around, Amanda was surprised to find Eddie so close that the toes of her boots brushed against his Reeboks.  She looked up at him through the curtain of her mascara, “How can I help you?” Now her voice was breathy.  Husky.  And it made Eddie’s skin prickle hotly.  “Uh, I just wanted to tell you- all, tell you all just how much I enjoyed your set.” Only, Eddie never looked past Amanda’s face.  Couldn’t really.  Not when her wide eyes were staring into his own, their long lashes accentuating her curious gaze, her head tilted in a way that showed sincerity.

His calloused palm rubbed against the back of his neck, nerves getting the better of him the longer that Eddie stood there.  It felt like hours.  Long, silence filled hours where no one spoke and he dangled from a weak branch of his own social awkwardness. In reality it was only seconds before Amanda giggled like a crushing school girl, dropping her gaze to break the spell she had unwittingly cast, “Well, that’s awfully kind of you…?” Clearly she was prompting him.  It was unfair that she was at the disadvantage of not knowing his name when he had learned hers through the forced politeness of the customer service industry.  Behind her, Carly snorted as they watched Eddie extend a heavy ringed hand, taking Amanda’s in his own.  Raising it high enough to press a chaste kiss to the back, adding a saucy wink for good measure as he answered, “Eddie.  I’m Eddie.” “Eddie.”  Amanda wasn’t aware that she’d whispered it out loud until her friend was reaching past her, extending her own hand Eddie’s way for a greeting, using her flirty voice to try and charm the very handsome, very out of place guy, “Carly.  That’s me.  And-” dropping her hand when Eddie failed to take it, Carly laughed ruefully, “-you don’t care.” Carly was absolutely right.  Neither one of them paid her any attention because the world as Amanda knew it no longer existed.  Not anymore. There was a new sun, a new sky.  One with raven curls and plump, pink lips.  A center of the galaxy that smelled like Aqua Velva and cinnamon gum and something mossy green.  The world had shifted off its axis, tipping her right into the arms of Eddie Munson. For Eddie, well, he had been gone from the second Amanda had tangled herself around him so tightly that she’d almost fallen.  But it was amazing to recognize that these feelings he was having were mutual.  He got shy then, toeing at the patch of grass in front of her, hands in his pockets while he played at casual, “Wanna get outta here?” Nodding wordlessly, Amanda agreed, only to realize her unspoken intention.  “Yea!  Uh, yes.  Yes.  That would be nice.” When Eddie cocked his chin up, the smile on his face was dazzling, “Excellent.”

— She was sure that she told the band where she was going and who she was leaving with, but Amanda couldn’t be certain.  It felt like so long ago.  An age had passed since she had been standing on the simple stage, singing for all of Hawkins to hear.  Since then, the long ago days of the early evening, so much had happened. Eddie had held her hand as he walked her to his van, holding open the door and ensuring that Amanda was tucked safely inside.  Boys didn’t do that- not for Amanda Patterson.  Not for the chubby girl who still had her baby weight to lose. When he caught her nibbling worriedly at her bottom lip, Eddie asked pointedly, “Everything alright?” “Uh, yea, I just-” “Afraid I’m trying to kidnap you, huh?  I get it.  Vans do have a-” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively while pressing the tip of his tongue to the center of his top lip, “-certain reputation.  But I promise you, Amanda.  No funny business.”  With one hand over his heart, Eddie extended the other, holding his pinky finger out. She recognized the gesture.  Every school aged kid would.  “Is that- are you making a pinky promise?”

His cheeks split into a solar powered smile as he nodded, “Oh, yes.  Absolutely.  And it’s ironclad, since, ya know, we link our little fingers.” Chuckling with her whole body, her shoulders lifted as Amanda agreed by reaching out her own pinky, “Ok, ok.  No funny business.”

They wrapped their littlest fingers around the other, huffing out laughs like naughty children.  And it did comfort any nagging fears that might have flooded Amanda’s mind because it was so silly.  So unexpected.  It was also entirely sincere. Roaring to life like a beast roused from slumber, the van started and Eddie shifted into gear, “Are you, by any chance, hungry?”

He was hoping against hope that she was because Eddie wasn’t ready to say goodnight.  Not now when he finally had this beautiful songbird buckled into the passenger’s seat, looking at him with those electric eyes.  Eyes that kept pulling him in anytime he dared glance Amanda’s way, now fully focused on him and beaming. Normally a question like that would be fully loaded for a young woman very aware of her size and stature, but for the first time and without any hesitation, Amanda answered without reservation, “Starved.”

Exhaling through a grin, Eddie shook his hair off his shoulders, “Then let’s go!” The drive to the diner was filled with chatter.  He offered kind words about the band, the concert and her vocals.  “You, you’re just incredible.  Never heard someone sing like that before.” “Thanks, but truthfully, Carly and Mark and Jim, they make me sound better.”  Amanda did that thing where she deflected the words, the attention, to anyone else in order to minimize herself.  What she didn’t count on?  Eddie’s ability to see right through her. Blowing his bangs off his face, Eddie swiveled to face Amanda, his tone finally serious, “Uh uh.  Nope.  No way.  You’re gonna have to accept that you’re the star of the show, sweetheart.”  Then, he leaned over the center console, right into Amanda’s personal space to bump her shoulder with his own, “Please, take the compliment.” Her jaw snapped shut, hands in her lap where Amanda fooled around her with fingernails, fidgeting.  She swallowed thickly and bobbed her head, her voice gaining strength.  “You’re right.  I, uh, I appreciate you saying that.” “No problem at all, hun.  I’m only telling the truth.”  That’s when she noticed his little finger wiggling her way, “Pinky promise.” — Normally Amanda would frown at the idea of a booth.  They tended to be a tight squeeze, embarrassingly so when she’d have to slide across the bench, her supple thighs sticking to the tacky pleather. She desperately did not want to be embarrassed in front of the forthright dude in front of her. But Amanda didn’t need to worry.  Eddie, lacing her hand in his, tugged her to the back table, “My usual spot- out of the way and the most comfortable one in the place.” Deep and roomy, the color of jellied cranberry sauce from a can, the cushion was accommodating because of its indeterminate age.  She plopped onto the seat with room to spare, more than a little relieved, “Oh yea?” “Yea.  I’ve been breaking it in for years.” Cocking her head in a way that made Eddie’s breath hitch, a clever half teasing smile curling one corner of her mouth higher than the other, Amanda joked, “So you bring all your women here, then?” The deep barking laugh that came straight from Eddie’s chest made an elderly gentleman sitting at the countertop turn around with a scowl.  “All my women?  You make me sound like a lothario.” “Mr. Goodbar?  Is that you?”  She squinted her eyes, leaning into the bit. “Oh, Mandy, honey.  I am nowhere near that good with the ladies.” “I don’t know.  You’re doing pretty good with me, so far.”  And it was out of her mouth like a runaway rocket.  There was no way to pull it back, no way to reign it in.  It was there- out in the ether, like a comet bound to crash through the atmosphere. Amanda froze because now she’d done it.  She had pointed out her interest, revealed herself as wanting, knowing that any other time she had dared to give voice to her attraction it had always been met with let down and heart ache.  The embarrassment boiled through her. God, she had wanted so badly to play it cool.  To ensure that Eddie was really into her before making any kind of declaration that couldn’t be passed off as a joke.  Stewing, Amanda waited for the inevitable rejection from the man far prettier and sexier than she should ever hope to have for her own. But instead of a dismissive shrug or, worse, a comment about liking her as a ‘just friend’, Amanda got to watch as Eddie’s eyes lit up joyfully.  He couldn’t hide it either, apparently, since his smile widened enough to show off a pair of precious dimples, “Yea?  Ya think so?  That’s- uh, that’s good to hear.” Something about his own reckless enthusiasm caused the flood of worry to ebb away, leaving Amanda filled with a warm, gooey sensation that was not as familiar.  Could it be?  Was this what mutual attraction felt like?  Was this what love songs had been selling for generations and greeting card companies were always trying to find new ways to describe?  Was this… love? “Hey lovebirds, what can I get ya?”  It is a universal law that wait staff appear at the table when it is least convenient and this interruption by Cheryl ensured that all was right with the cosmos, her tiny pencil poised and ready to write. They had spent no time reading the menu, but Eddie had it memorized cover to cover.  Looking at Amanda, he nodded, “So, uh, do you trust me?” Again, her head tilted, appraising this nearly perfect stranger with the gorgeous grin and shaggy hair.  “Uh huh, yea.  I trust you.  Why do you ask?” Licking over his lips, he turned all of his unfiltered attention to their waitress, dialing the charm up to eleven, “Hiya Cheryl!” “Hi yourself, Eddie.  What’s it gonna be?”  There was a familiarity there that spoke of too many late night coffee cups and slices of pie.  It wasn’t friendly, really, but it was warm enough and Eddie’s puppy dog eyes moved the conversation into safer waters. “Hmm… patty melts.  Two please, with the curly fries, ok?” A curt nod answered his request, “Yea, and to drink?” He looked at Amanda, that impish twinkle shining bright in his cinnamon dark eyes, “Milkshakes?” “Oh!  Yes!  Vanilla for me, please.”  She beamed at Eddie, excitement at the consideration evident in Amanda’s face. “And I suppose you want chocolate, right Eddie?” Cheryl lifted her gaze from the scribble filled notepad to stare down at Amanda’s dinner companion. Placing his ring covered hand over his chest, Eddie batted his eyes, “You know the way to my heart, Cheryl.” Snorting approvingly at his antics, she jotted down Eddie’s preferred flavor, “All right kids, be right up.” And she wasn’t kidding because before either of them could let the silence grow, two tall and frosty milkshake glasses were being slid across the glittering formica, each topped with a mound of whipped cream and a luscious, over sweet cherry as a crown.  A pair of straws were tossed down without much thought and Amanda greedily grabbed one, eager to taste the delectable treat in front of her. “So, tell me about you.  What do you- like, what do you do for fun?”  Eddie was toying with his straw’s paper wrapper, making small talk and working hard at looking effortless.  He hadn’t been out like this, with a girl he was so into, in ages.  Maybe ever, really, and he was rusty, more than a little out of practice. Amanda swirled her own straw through the thick vanilla shake in front of her, biting into her bottom lip before replying, “Well, I work.  A lot.”  “At the Music Shop?” She shrugged, “Yup.  But it’s not all restocking sheet music and replacing guitar strings.  I teach-” “Like guitar?”  Something about the prospect was so exciting.  A fellow musician to noodle around with and she just happened to have the voice of an angel?  Was this paradise found, or what? Amanda nodded at his eager response, “Yea.  Also some keyboard, like, really beginner piano, ya know?” Eddie slurped at his chocolate shake, brain going a mile a minute.  Shaking his long hair off his shoulders, nearly gawking, he clicked his tongue before sighing deeply, “It’s not really fair.” Worry filled Amanda’s features.  Had she done something wrong?  It had all been going so well, maybe too well?  “What’s not fair?” Rapping his ringed knuckles against the tabletop before pointing her way, “You.  You’re like, too good to be true.” Shy now, Amanda turned away from his kindness, his honeyed praises, and fiddled nervously with the pendant of her necklace.  It wasn’t something she had a ton of experience with; flirting and compliments and genuine appreciation.  If she was on a stage, under a white hot spotlight, Amanda would know exactly what to say, what to do, but here on the worn out bench seat of a small town diner, Amanda found herself unmoored by all the attention Eddie was sending her way. “Oh, that’s like- I mean, I’m not-” she let her voice trail off, suddenly transfixed by something outside of the plate window. “Hey-” Eddie laid his hand, palm up, on the worn down table, his voice dropping to a whisper.  He’d said something to upset Amanda because she had taken those brilliant peepers away and that felt wrong on a primal level. “-Amanda?  Did I- uh, shit.  Did I do something, ya know, wrong?  Shit.” There was something in the defeated sound of Eddie’s expletive that brought her around.  She saw his open hand, still laying on the table and cautiously linked her fingers with his.  But she still could not meet his questioning look.  Twirling one of those big, heavy rings around his large and frankly, distracting fingers, Amanda finally huffed out a lungful of air. “I guess I should like, be honest here and tell you that I’ve never really done this.”  She motioned between the pair of them with her unoccupied hand as if that alone would explain her behavior. Eddie squeezed her fingers for a second, a trace of teasing in his tone when he asked, “Had dinner in a shitty diner?” Rolling her eyes skyward, she snorted out a small laugh, “No.  Well, kinda?  I mean, I haven’t really had a-” she let her eyes lock onto Eddie’s maple brown ones, holding him still, “-a date.  I, uh, never really had anyone, ya know, wanna take me out.  So, this is new.  For me, anyway.” Eddie could see what the admission cost her.  The once pleased smile now turned just a little pouty as her bottom lip puckered from the effort of opening herself up.  Her chest rose and fell rapidly as if she couldn’t keep the air inside her for too long, but perhaps the most telling was the way that Amanda’s hand clung tightly to Eddie’s. For a long second neither one of them said anything.  The kitchen crew could be heard, banging around pots and plates.  Another couple in a nearby booth was laughing loudly.  The radio was tuned to the oldies station so everyone could listen to Sam Cooke singing about Cupid. And when Amanda realized that Eddie wasn’t going to respond, she sat up, stiffer than before, readying to take her hand with her.  But Eddie closed his fist around her fingers, keeping his hold on her and tugging her gently forward, a pained pinch obvious in his voice, “Me either.” “What?” He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, “I don’t date.  Uh, that often.”  Popping one eye open, just to see if Amanda was still with him, Eddie continued, “Um, I’ve got a bit of a, well, a reputation.  And for some reason, the ladies around here aren’t into that.” Shooting for levity, Eddie hoped to lighten the mood.  Moments like this, where he was on display emotionally, where he was open and vulnerable, made him nervous.  Anxious.  Twitchy.  It was fucking scary to be sitting here with this pretty bird and tell her how much of a disaster he really was with no bravado to use as armor.  And if Amanda wasn’t already heading for the hills, there was no way he would be able to stop her now. “It’s the van, isn’t it?  All the people you’ve attempted to kidnap, right?”  At her gentle jest, both of Eddie’s eyes popped open.  She was still there, sitting sweetly behind her melting shake, a tentative twist of her lips making it impossible for Eddie to stop imagining what kissing her would be like and he felt himself nodding with a hoarse giggle, relieved, “Yea.  That’s, uh, that’s it.  I’m just a creepy metal head with a super creepy van.” “You probably have candy too and uh, puppies?  For the luring of innocents?” “Of course.  What’s a kidnapper without his bait?”  “A weird guy with an empty van?”  And that absolutely shitty punchline was enough to send them both into a giggle fit, shattering any lingering tension created by being a touch too honest in the moment.  There would be a better time to talk about deep dark secrets and the reasons why two lonely people could find comfort in each other, but this wasn’t it. When Amanda pulled her hand back this time, Eddie let it go.  She used her napkin to dab under her eyes, clearing away the tears that laughing together had created.  Then she was dipping down to slurp at her creamy concoction, grinning, “This is so good!” “Right?  But, I gotta say, vanilla is-” “What?  What’s wrong with vanilla?”  Shaking his head with a laugh, Eddie raised his eyebrows, “Vanilla is kinda boring.” “It is not!”  Scalded by his choice of words, Amanda leaned over their shared table at the diner, motioning him closer.  When she was near enough for her now vanilla scented breath to skate across Eddie’s mouth, Amanda husked, “Vanilla is smoky.  Sweet.  It’s hard to grow, super hard to harvest and while there are many imitators out there.  Real vanilla.  The good stuff?  Well, that shit would rock your world.” Amanda, feeling bolder, pushed in tighter despite the formica between them, continuing in a hushed tone.  “And Eddie-” her voice dropped even lower, forcing him to concentrate on every word leaving her tenderly parted lips, lips that smelled like bourbon and sugar and cream.  Lips that Eddie wanted to taste so badly that he was sure he was going to go mad, right here in the goddamned diner, before their burgers ever made it to the table.  Lips that begged to be kissed stupid, carried on, unaware of his rising desire, “-never forget this: chocolate needs vanilla to taste so damn good!”  Sitting back, pleased as punch now that her point was made, Amanda slurped down another sip of her vanilla shake.  Eddie needed a minute.  Or seven.  He was still almost lying chest down on the booth’s table, having to cock his head up to look at the vanilla loving vixen gloating over him.  Spreading his broad hands over the tabletop, Eddie dramatically pushed himself back into his seat, eyeing Amanda warily, acting contrary for the fun of it.  “It’s a good story, kid.  But I’m still not convinced about vanilla’s superiority.  Maybe-”  He was pushing his luck, he knew it.  God, but he knew it only too well.  She’d admitted to being new to all this, inexperienced, but still, fortune favors the bold, isn’t that what some famous person had said once?  Amanda, unknowingly, waited for his follow-up, her mouth wrapped around the striped straw, her cheeks round and smiling, “Maybe?” Leaning onto one leather wrapped elbow, Eddie reclaimed the space at the center of their table, “Maybe I need to taste it again?” She’s confused.  Yea, definitely, confused.  So Amanda moved, ready to slide her icy half filled glass his way.  But Eddie shook his head slowly and waved her forward until their foreheads were almost pressed together.  That’s when he cupped her cheek, gently, softly and Amanda, powerless to stop her body, nuzzled into the warmth there. It felt natural.  Right.  Easy.  And there was no way that Amanda was going to deny herself this little bit of pleasure being offered so openly. If what Eddie had admitted was true, and the way his eyes had scrunched gave her a pretty good idea that it was, then he was in uncharted waters himself.  Something about that idea, that they were both in this raging waterfall of connection together made it safer somehow.  It made it easier to shut her own eyes and enjoy the calloused caresses of Eddie. Eddie slid his thumb over her plush bottom lip which parted without question, “Wanna taste you.  That alright, Mandy?” God, did she like being called Mandy.  She bobbed her head ‘yes’, her eyes shut from the want, already anticipating Eddie’s movements.  But he surprised her again, asking- no, telling, “Open your eyes, baby.  Please?” And only when Eddie could spy the blown open pupils of his dinner companion did he allow his mouth to surge forward.  His slightly chapped lips separated enough for his tongue to sweep across Amanda’s own and he was rewarded with a sultry sigh.  It made Eddie braver.  Bolder.  

Now he was intrepid in his search for the flavor of vanilla, teasing and taking a taste of every muggy corner of her mouth.  His tongue brushed against her own, the fresh flavor of vanilla sweetness everywhere.  Heady and exotic and exciting.  Amanda tipped her chin downward, ready to deepen this first kiss that arched over forgotten milkshakes and the paper napkins wrapping up their silverware, tentatively running the tip of her tongue over Eddie’s teeth.  Traces of chocolate and the syrupy sweet cherry from the top of his treat lingered on Eddie’s lips making Amanda hum harmonically.  Her fingers fisted into the collar of his flannel shirt, ensuring that Eddie couldn’t escape, at least, not without effort. But she wasn’t worried.  When his second hand molded to the curve of her other cheek, Amanda couldn’t avoid smiling, knowing that Eddie was as into this as she was.  As far as first kisses went, this one was ranking pretty high on the list of all time greats and both were reluctant to pull away first. “Ahem!  AHEM!  I have your order.” Two heads turned toward the intruding voice of the bored and bordering on disgusted server Doris but Eddie and Amanda didn’t jump apart like a couple of randy teens might have.  Oh no, Amanda leaned further into the cup of Eddie’s palm, offering their put upon server a small smile, dazed and almost drunkenly, “Hmm, thank you so much.” Eddie would have rather died than forfeit the pleasure of her trusting touch.  With his free left hand he reached for one of the two plates, “Here, lemme have that.” “Whatever.”  Without any further ceremony, Doris, because that’s what her name tag read, plopped both heavy ceramic dishes to the table, “Need anything else lovebirds?” Amanda lifted her head slowly, licking over her bee stung lips and nodded towards the pink cheeked shaggy headed boy still draped across their booth, “Uh, yea.  Could we have another vanilla shake, please?  It’s his favorite flavor.” Chuckling, Eddie let his broad thumb with the bitten down nail graze over the apple of her cheek, speaking to Doris but only looking at Amanda, “Two cherries, huh, Doris?” Rolling her elderly eyes, the waitress shook her head, “Right away.” Steam rolled off the two cheeseburger melts and stacks of seasoned french fries but they remained huddled as close at the table between them would allow.  Cocking his eyebrow, Eddie couldn’t help the teasing, “My favorite, huh?” “Oh yea.  You’re a convert now.” Settling back reluctantly, Eddie smirked your way, “Ever think that you’re my favorite flavor?” He was rewarded with a small kiss pressed to the inside of his wrist and what he realized was a trademark tilt of her head, “I told you that everything tastes better with vanilla, Eddie.” “Yea, you sure did.”  Biting into his burger, Eddie grinned through the grease on his face, sure he had never been happier in his short life.  And if the triumphant smirk Amanda flashed his way proved anything, she felt the exact same way.

— The second their empty plates had been cleared away, Eddie’s hand naturally kind of reached for Amanda’s, needy and greedy for the reassurance of touch.  Just as natural, Amanda slotted her fingers between his, “I gotta say, Eddie, that was a pretty amazing burger.” Pleased at the recognition, Eddie squeezed her digits for a second, “Thanks for trusting me.”  And then he seemed to realize the full implication of his statement.  Thanks for trusting him on the drive over.  Thanks for trusting his judgment about the restaurant and not just his menu choices.  Thanks for trusting his intentions. Her eyes rounded at the sentiment, giving Eddie a flash of sympathy before leaning into a flirty smile, “I had to.  You did pinky promise me that there would be no funny business and that’s ironclad.  At least, that’s what I’ve been led to believe.” “God, you remember everything, huh?”  But he sounded impressed.  Happy that she hadn’t lingered on his more revealing comment. Nodding, Amanda agreed, “Yea, I mean, I kinda have an ear and it’s always been easy for me to memorize stuff.  Lyrics, melodies, lines from movies-” Leaning forward again, engaged and interested, Eddie licked over his bottom lip, “No shit?” “No shit!” Eddie couldn’t help it.  He let his eyes roam over the pretty face in front of him, etching all of the details into his own memory, vowing never to forget the greasy sweet shine of her lips around the red striped straw or how she folded her disposable napkin up primly before laying it across her dinner plate.  The way Amanda’s hand felt so right in his and how her mouth tasted like vanilla ice cream with a trace amount of menthol throat drop lingering along her teeth. Eddie needed to remember it all for later.  For tonight when he went back to his trailer, like a gentleman.  For tomorrow or the day after or the day after that.  For all the days that would spread between this time together and the next time Eddie would be able to see her.  He was going to live off the sound of Amanda’s begrudging laugh when he made a joke that was funnier than it had any real right to be.  He planned to survive on the nourishment of her sugared sighs when those perfect, plump and pouty lips had welcomed Eddie’s own.  It was food for his soul.  Essential for life like oxygen or water. “Uh, Eddie?”  Amanda’s quiet question yanked him out of his own head and back into the present moment. He tugged the forward chunk of his hair between his long fingers, embarrassed at being caught, “Hmm?”  “You’re, uh, staring.” “Yea.  Sorry about that.  It’s just-” “Do I have something on my face?”  Panicked, Amanda patted at her cheeks to find the non-existent stain. And how could he help himself?  “Oh, yup.  A little higher.  No, lower- uh, nope, other side.  It’s right there-” he directed her wildly, pointing at the corner of his mouth to watch Amanda lick the same spot of her own, “-almost.  How do you keep missing it?” “You little shit!”  It was suddenly crystal clear that Eddie was full on fucking with her.  There never had been anything on her face. “What?  You got it.  Just now.”  Eddie’s impish grin made it impossible for Amanda to be truly mad so she settled for shooting him a playfully spiteful glare, “Uh huh.  Yea, sure.” His thumb rubbed along the side of her pointer finger, the gentle drag a grounding reminder of Eddie’s unwavering presence.  Amanda rested her chin against the flat of her right palm before sighing deeply, “What am I gonna do with you, Eddie?” Reflexively, re-actively, he answered, “Whatever you want, baby.” It was Amanda’s turn to stare.  There was an open honesty in the hot coffee color of Eddie’s eyes that hooked her right through the heart and tugged like a caught fish on a rusty lure.  He was being serious, there was no denying it. Around them the air shifted.  It was no longer funny.  It was no longer polite. The world narrowed once more, big enough for only the two of them and the dingy diner booth where they sat as everything else fell away. Her throat tightened and a lick of heated flame unfurled through her belly.  Words flooded her thoughts but Amanda couldn’t seem to settle on the ones that would say what she wanted desperately to express.  Eddie’s seemingly simple declaration had untethered her. Because it was too soon to speak with such clarity of purpose.  Too early for the implication of more to be made.  And yet, for the first time, Amanda saw the ghostly shape of possibility in the earnest expression Eddie wore. There was a promise there, stronger than one created when two little fingers linked, and something about that was spooky.  Scary.  Only, Amanda didn’t feel frightened like she thought she should, shrugging smoothly, “I- I wanna stay with you.” That was her truth, in the singular sparkling now.  Leaving Eddie, even for the comfort of home, was a thought so daunting, so disruptive, that she was actively moving against it.  Everything in Amanda Patterson said ‘stay’.  Eddie’s head bobbed in understanding.  He had no intention of letting the night end so early and without any plan in place for a follow-up rendezvous.  At Amanda’s declaration, he’d changed the grip of her hand, turning it so that their palms touched, textured heat melding together.  

He’d be lying if he denied the libidinous way his blood shot south at the whispered want in Amanda’s voice.  He was a young and virile guy, after all.  But Eddie wasn’t thinking with his dick when he said, “I don’t wanna let you go, Mandy.”

“Am I-” pausing to catch her breath, Amanda started again, “-are we crazy?” “I uh, I don’t think so.”  Conspiratorially, Amanda huffed, “Then what do we do now, Eddie?” His free hand brushed through his curls roughly before landing on the back of his neck, “Let me take you home?” It was a question born of chivalry and Amanda agreed with a thin, “Yes, please.” Eddie stood up first, somehow managing to keep her hand in his as he slipped out of the booth smoothly.  Once he was on his feet, he tugged lightly, bringing Amanda to the edge of the bench before offering his arm.  She watched as Eddie threw some loose bills on the table and then he was leading her outside of the bacon scented diner and onto the sidewalk. She floated at his side, the swaying of her skirt brushing against the stiff denim of Eddie’s jeans.  What had been an appropriate outfit for the early evening was now a bit too thin and he saw her shiver under the bright and clear Indiana sky.  Popping open the van’s door, he saw her settled inside and as she buckled her seatbelt, Eddie shrugged off his leather jacket, “Here.  Snuggle up under this, yea?” Gripping the body warm coat with greedy fingers, Amanda clutched it to her chest, humming her thanks.  He watched as she spread it over herself, nudging the collar with her nose, “Oh man, it smells like you!” “Cigarettes and bad decisions?” “Nope.”  Inhaling deeply, she thought for a minute, “Cologne?  Aqua Velva, like my granddad wears and uh, Green Apple shampoo?”  She couldn’t hide the surprised way her eyes widened or the knowing little smirk her mouth made at this discovery. “What?  I think it smells good.”  Lingering in the space between inside the van with Amanda and outside on the sidewalk, Eddie’s arms leaned into the rusted metal frame, effectively caging her in the seat. Not that she minded when every time he stretched his flannel shirt rode up just enough for an alabaster white slice of belly to peek over the waistband of his jeans.  She had already noticed splashes of black ink over each hip but couldn’t be sure of its shape.  His forearms were on display, the strong veins of his wrists visible under the artfully stained skin, and Amanda let her mind wander at the idea of what Eddie looked like under all that cotton and cloth. Amanda swallowed thickly.  She was very aware of the protective bubble Eddie had built around her, here in the cab of his vehicle.  The scent of him.  The sight.  It was a feast for the senses. And now all she wanted was to taste the plush and pillowy softness of his lips.  Lips that were moving, saying something but her mind had gone over into staticy silver.  She couldn’t help it.  Not when he was standing with his trim waist nearly at eye level, the belt of his jeans drawing them low on his hips.  “Huh?” That grin.  Broad and toothy, spread smugly over his face, “Uh, did I lose you for a second?” “Hmm, yea.  Kinda.  Sorry, what were you saying?” “I was saying, I don’t want to say goodnight, at least-” he raised a hand to her cheek, brushing the calloused pad of his thumb across her smooth skin, “-not so soon.” Having already melted into his touch, hoarse and throaty, she agreed, “Yea, no, me either.” “Yea?  So, if you’re up for a little adventure, I may have an idea.” Amanda lifted an eyebrow, questioning the boy before her with a sarcastic thread to her words,  “An adventure?” “Don’t worry, babe.  I'll make sure to get you there and back again.”  His pinkie finger was wiggling, just waiting for Amanda to link them together in a silent show of trust. —

Thanks for reading!  Part 2 is coming soon!

Want to read more?  Check out my Masterlist here!

The Taglist is Open!  If you’ve asked to be tagged and I missed you, or I’ve incorrectly tagged you, gently let me know!  XO - WNG

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[untilthenextencore]

"Nights To Remember Ch. 5: You Belong To Me~..."

~

~

Jimmy & Dahlia made their exit from the Chuco sometime after that. The smallest thing triggered it. The funniest thing. A song by the Duprees. And a shared look after one last dance.

"See the pyramids along the Nile…

Watch the sun rise on a tropic isle…

Just remember, darling, all the while…

You belong to me…"

The look they shared was laden with understanding. A flicker of a shared shy, sheepish smile. A soft laugh at how fitting the song was then.

They both knew it was time. It was in their nerves. In their blood. A little flicker in their eyes.

Jimmy laced his fingers through hers, hand swallowing hers as he gazed down at her. "Shall we?"

Dahlia nodded simply. "Let's go."

Jimmy slipped out of his jacket, draping it around her shoulders before leading her back out into the now much cooler night. He nodded & smiled in greeting, tossing a few waves to some cheering fans before they were both tucked safely back into the quiet private depths of the backseat of the town car he arrived in.

"Darling, you really shouldn't have run off like that. You really did give me quite a fright. Though I'm glad you left word for me with Peter." He tutted, patting her hand.

"Of course, baby." She reached up to cup his face tenderly & thumbed the swell of his cheek. "Like you already said I didn't want to worry you. I got bored back there but saw you were still having fun. I knew Peter would get the word to you in where I had gone. If you didn't already know or guess. I just got homesick I guess. Missed things. Missed the place. The fun. You know. The old days I guess."

The old days.

Memories danced in Jimmy's mind. Of more dances here. More dances at the Chuco. Inside under the tinted light. Outside on the patio. Under the streetlight. Under the stars. Under the moon.

From the first time she took him there in his Yardbirds days to then. Through all lengths of his hair. Through all lengths of his beard. Both before & after his beard. Pinstriped trousers, jeans, velvet bellbottoms. Silk blouses, lace trim, simple cotton. No matter what he wore he was always welcome. She was always welcome. They were always welcome.

It wasn't hard to see why she loved it.

Why she missed it.

Why she escaped.

The other party was the complete opposite.

Though she stuck out in both like a sore thumb - albeit a stunningly beautiful one - it was clear, she fit this one like a glove.

"I'm sorry if I worried you at all, Jimmy. I thought maybe if I went along with Robert when he offered you'd have less to worry about."

Jimmy stifled a laugh. Stifled a grin. Barely. After all these years. Even after that night. She still had no idea. He was glad in a way. It meant Robert hadn't tried anything. It also meant that certainly Magnet hadn't either. It meant she was still safe. Still his. Still secure.

"Forgive me?"

And thus, so was he.

Cupping her face in his large hands, Jimmy cooed in a dragon's curl of smoke from the cigarette he had just finished. "There's nothing to forgive, my dear. Nothing. As long as you're safe."

Dahlia beamed at him, placing her hands over his cupping her cheeks, starry-eyed as ever. "I had a wonderful time tonight, darling. Hope you did too. Despite the slight fright I gave you."

His smile grew before his lips pressed to her forehead once more. "My dearest. My sweetest. My loveliest. My only. My girl. My lady. My Dahlia."

His heart swelled in his chest at what he saw flickering in her gaze. The light. The devotion. The purity. Purity of gaze. Of heart. Of love. Of feeling. Of emotion. Pure, raw emotion.

All of this led him to make one simple promise. "The night's not over yet, my girl. My lady. It is but still young for us."

"I bless the day I found you…

I wanna stay around you…

Now and forever, let it be me…"

Jimmy's smile brightened at the sound of the Everlys crooning over the radio. "Remember this song, my darling?"

"Don't take this heaven from one…

If you must cling to someone…

Now and forever, let it be me…"

Dahlia's smile quirked in the same way. Instantly, she read his mind. "Palomino, 1969."

They shared a private giggle. A favorite date of theirs. A favorite memory of theirs. Jimmy taking Dahlia to see the Everly Brothers at the Palomino in 1969. Holding hands. Holding her close. Sneaking squeezes of her hand. Sneaking little clinches. Sneaking kisses. As they did before.

"Each time we meet, love…

I find complete love…

Without your sweet love…

What would life be?..."

As they did then.

Jimmy leant in & nuzzled Dahlia. Nuzzled his wife. She nuzzled back. A low growl sounded in his throat. A purr in hers. A chuckle followed from him. A giggle from her.

The partition rose between them & the front seat. Jimmy's arms came around Dahlia's back, hands caressing the skin left bare by her low backed dress. Dahlia shivered & purred again, reclining back as Jimmy leant her back into the seat. Her arms circled his shoulders as their nuzzling intensified & once again their lips met.

She shivered as she felt his silver jeweled pendant cool against her hot skin.

"Gee whiz, look at his eyes…

Gee whiz, how they hypnotize…

He's got everything a girl could want…

Man, oh, man, what a prize…

Oh, oh…"

As the song played Dahlia gazed up at him in the flickering, intermittent light. The dragon's green fire seared her to the core. A private smile was shared. A tandem flicker. The air crackling between the two as it so often did. And suddenly two pairs of curved lips crashed into each other.

"Heaven up above knows how much…

I love that fella's soul…

Angels sing of a love like this…

I hope our love will grow and grow…"

Jimmy's lips burned a trail of heated kisses down her throat as his hand blazed a trail up her skirt. Her legs fell open instantly. As if on command. Under his spell as ever. Open sesame.

"'Cause, gee whiz, I love that guy…

Gee whiz, my, my, oh my…

There are things we could do…

I could say I love you…

But all I can say is…

Gee whiz…"

His lips trailed back up to claim & conquer hers yet again. Dominating her again. Mauling her again. Dahlia nipped his lower lip softly, earning a throaty growl. The growl of course came with more hungry, devouring kisses.

A sudden gasp left Dahlia's lips, thighs tightening around his hand slightly as Jimmy's fingers shifted her panties aside & his middle finger pressed inside.

"Dahlia… My lady…" He panted.

Dahlia let her legs fall open just that bit wider. Jimmy's finger pressed deeper, curving towards those familiar places he knew so well would elicit those deliriously sweet sounds.

"Ah!..."

And little bucks & lifts & rocks of her hips as she was so doing then. Each little buck allowed her skirt to slip higher and higher up her thigh. The slipping slip dress thusly only revealed more and more of her shifted panties & his working fingers.

The sight of the flickering light, intermittent from passing cars & streetlights, flashing on her exposed core stirred him to no end. The sight of her lips parted. Him parting her lips. His fingers parting them & pumping. Curving. Pressing deep. Making her mewl. It stirred him… To action.

"Oh, my angel…

Come back to me…

And I will love you…

Till eternity…

Oh, my angel…

This fire in my heart…

Consumes my happiness…

Since we are apart…"

Jimmy let Dahlia slip from his arms momentarily, only to bring both hands to his belt & undo it.

"Dahlia… Forgive me… I need..."

Dahlia merely allowed herself to sink down onto the sear & giggled. "There's nothing to forgive… As you said, my love…"

Jimmy hurriedly undid & unzipped his trousers, freeing himself & allowing his length to fall free. Dahlia giggled again & softly stroked his length in greeting. Jimmy jolted, grunting, groaning deeply. He stilled himself, allowing her a few more smooth strokes before acting again.

Taking her hand & once more pressing a kiss to the back before draping her arms around his shoulders. Coming close, he gave her panties a tug down her thighs before embracing her once more. And with that, Jimmy rose over her, drawing his hips back & piercing her in one go.

"Ah!" Cane the tandem response.

"You're mine…

And we belong together…

Yes, we belong together…

For eternity…"

The music was the perfect soundtrack as they lay wrapped in each other's arms. Another giggle was shared between the two before Jimmy pressed deeply once more. Another thrust. Another gasp.

"You're mine…

Your lips belong to me…

Yes, they belong to only me…

For eternity…"

Jimmy rolled his hips into hers slowly. Smoothly. Deeply. He drew out moan after moan. Sigh after sigh. Stirring her from deep within.

Dahlia's back arched, allowing Jimmy to slide the spaghetti straps down her shoulders. There he was able to bunch the silken dress at her waist. There he was able to trail kisses down her neck as her head craned back.

His lips trailed a heated path down to her breasts, circling her nipples & sucking them into peaks as his tongue batted & teased them. The sight of her panties, filmy & now sodden, ringing around her ankle led him to remove them, pocketing them secretly. Then, Jimmy's smile widened as Dahlia's legs wrapped around his waist. Her heels grazed the upholstery on the door behind him, her ankles locked behind his back as he drove consistently into her as they were driven around.

"You're my, my baby…

And you'll always be…

I swear by everything I own…

You'll always, always be mine…"

Dahlia watched as his pendants glinted in the light. Dangling & spinning. Hypnotizing her. Each thrust pierced her to her very core. Stealing her breath away. Her hands slipped under his jacket, sliding along the smooth expanse of skin along his back. Her fingers curled. Nails scoring into his shoulders.

His hips stuttered & faltered only momentarily before snapping harder & ever so slightly faster into her.

"You're mine…" The song crooned.

"Jimmy..." Dahlia mewled, arching her back slightly. The way her eyes both glittered & hazed over caught his eye. He recognized that. Recognized the way her nails dragged from his shoulders down his back. He hissed & shuddered & snapped his hips yet again, thrusting deeper still.

Her legs tightened around him. Walls tightened around him. Arms tightened around him. "Ahhh… Jimmy… Jimmy…"

"Are you close, darling?" He asked with a kiss, even though he already knew.

As he expected, he saw her nod slowly, still with that hazed starry-eyed gaze.

Jimmy smiled, sliding one hand down to brace her hip. His thumb swirled gently on her clit as he began to hone his thrusts in a very pointed fashion. Dahlia gasped softly. The gasp was muffled against his lips as he claimed hers in yet another passionate kiss.

"Mmmm… Me too…" He admitted, with a cheeky grin, muffling his subsequent chuckles into her lips just as she had muffled her gasps.

Now their hips rocked in unison. Lifting & rolling into a sweet, smooth grinding meeting. The two of them colliding over & over.

"Jimmy…" Dahlia mewled.

"Mmm-hmm…" He purred, wrapping one arm around her back, the other hand bracing her thigh, keeping it close to him.

"Jimmy… Jimmy…" She nipped his lower lip, causing him to growl. The sound vibrated through her body, making her shiver & clench around him.

She felt him drive into her clenching tightness in a few short quick thrusts, aiming for her spot just so & jolted. Another gasp fell from her lips as her back arched. She clutched into him & with the last of his thrusts as he grunted & groaned, he spilled & she shattered.

Galaxies collided as their bodies had, shattering & spreading stardust across her vision, the stars he had seen in her eyes sealed with a bated breath sigh of his name & kiss.

"Jimmy..."

The same stars she saw alight in his now as his lids fluttered open. Emerald depths twinkling in greeting as their gazes met.

"My lady…"

"Jimmy…"

Her fingers drew their last trails down his back. Another hiss fell from his lips as he stirred deep within her, filling her as he braced her body to his. Large right hand still bracing her thigh to his hip. His left arm still wrapped around her, keeping her stomach flush against his.

"I love you…"

He swore as his lips retook & staked their claim on hers at the same time. Deep, passionate, grateful, sated, yet all the more hungry kisses greeted her on the way down as they both recovered.

"I love you…"

She sighed her pledge in return.

Another purr sounded as despite the eternity their hurried climb & easy float down from their peak seemed to take, they both registered the last words of the song then on the radio. Fitting as ever. As always.

"And we belong together…

Yes, we belong together…

For eternity…"

~

Hope y'all enjoy~!

As ever, this is forever under construction~!

#untilthenextencore #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin fanfiction #led zeppelin fan fic #led zeppelin fan fiction #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fan fic #jimmy page fan fiction #robert plant fanfiction #Spotify

[letmewanderinyourgarden2022]

COMING NOVEMBER 4!

A new snippet

Following distant voices, I was drawn to a large, dusky room containing a round table that looked as if it were sliced from the trunk of a massive tree.  In the dimness, multi-colored squares of light dotted the luster of its highly polished surface.   I surveyed the room to identify the source of the mesmerizing patterns on the table.  A man leaned, cross-armed, against the wall in a far corner gazing outward through stained-glass windows that rose from floor to ceiling – the source of the kaleidoscope. 

@firethatgrewsolow @foreverandadaydarling @laluxea @lzep @sassybouquetrunaway-universe @jimmysdragonsuit13

#jimmy page fan fiction #let me wander in your garden 2022 #let me wander in your garden #jimmy page fan fic #jimmy page #zoso #old man jimmy #silver fox jimmy #led zeppelin fanfic

[nature-and-music-art]

Comic based on @tremble-and-shake​ story The Tempest of a Lustful Shade . 

The writing in this story is both imaginative and exciting as we follow the story of an undergraduate student and the conversation that she has with Jimmy concerning art, her studies, and religion.  She ends up spilling the beans, or in this case the tea, about a private matter in Jimmy’s presence.  Then things get interesting.

This one was a interesting one to do because I usually do not Jimmy very much and lo and behold we have silver fox Page.  I also wanted to include as much of the dialogue as I could as well, so there are definitely more speech bubbles here.  The big challenges for me were definitely drawing the hands and attempting to show the action of tea spilling over. 

#artists on tumblr #tremble-and-shake #classic rock #classic rock fandom #jimmy page #led zeppelin #my art #fan art #fanart #fic art #graphite #ink #gel pen #nature-and-music-art

[thepinkwriterr]

Capricorn Season Chapter Eighteen Part Three

This chapter is just more letters! These are between Lorelei and Juniper. This one is short and bittersweet. Enjoy. 

Table of Contents 

Word Count: 1k

Dear Juniper, 

How can I describe the last three days? I can’t really… They have been so amazing… Oh, okay, I’ll just tell you. After we split the other night I went to the club that Sable said Zeppelin would be at and I met Robert Plant. 

I get so lost in those beautiful eyes, wet and wild with azure fire. I would take anything from him, a plaster touch or a fleeting meeting of lips. I only wished to touch him, to have him for the night. I didn’t care what came after. 

“Won’t you join me upstairs?” He asked in his sonorous and deep voice. 

And that accent! It makes my knees wobble. Yes, oh yes, I would follow you into the pits of hell if it meant you would touch me! 

“Sure,” I played it cool. I was the cubes of ice in his glass, clinking against the crystal glass and watering down his whiskey. I was wet watercolor begging to be smudged. I wanted his artist hands to taint me in any way he saw fit. Any addition his mastermind made would add value to the canvas of my body. 

He extended his hand and allowed me to hold it in mine and lead me to the elevator. We left the drab hotel lobby behind and got into the tin tube. We waited for minutes on end, hearing the whir of gears in bated breath. He didn’t ravage me there like I thought he would. He was restrained, by all accounts a gentleman. 

I was over the moon, tickled pink, even! I was going to Join Robert Plant in his hotel room. I couldn’t believe it! 

When we finally got to his room (which felt like a million years) he again showed his chivalrous nature. He asked if I wanted anything to drink, anything to smoke. I said no to both. I just wanted him. I wanted to skip it all. 

So I made sure he knew it. I stepped up to the bed where he sat and put my hand on his thigh. “Is this okay?” I asked, locking eyes with him. Carnal. Sinful. He was starting to get hard already. 

“It’s more than okay, Darling,” he said, refusing to break contact. Eyes and hands were close now, closer yet as he pulled me into his lap. I yelped, shocked by his strength but of course, turned on. 

I put my lips on his at once, a muted moan pouring from my mouth into his like a flow of lusty liquid. 

“This is going to be a wonderful time,” he tittered, now putting me on my back. 

Oh, Juniper, it was amazing! He was so good. He’s such a good guy. He’s so charming. It might be too early… but I fear that I may be in love again. Don’t expect me back anytime soon. I agreed to join him on tour. 

I know I skipped on rent this month, and I’m sorry. Maybe you can talk to Lavender and get it sorted out. Please don’t be upset with me. I think that I have finally found the one, found my happiness. 

With love, 

Lorelei Scanton

-

Dear Lorelei, 

Wow! Robert Plant! I can’t believe it. Well, I can believe it. You were always our blonde bombshell. It’s no surprise that he picked you. 

It’s okay that you missed rent this month. And now the months after. Sable said that if you went to see Zeppelin that you wouldn’t come back. And I knew she was right. If not for Robert, for another. 

I am happy for you. I just don’t want you to get into something like what happened with David. Make sure he knows your heart is sensitive. That you’re sensitive. 

I’ll miss you bunches. I mean… you were such an integral part of the scene. I didn’t wanna tell you this, but Ritchie said he misses you. He told Regina and Thomas, who told Pearl, who told Lilac, who told me. I didn’t say anything while you were still here because I thought it would make you stay. Town is gonna suck without you, but you’ve got to find your happiness. 

Ritchie was an asshole, and David didn’t know what he had. Now you have Robert, who I’ve heard treats his women amazingly. Just don’t get too attached, okay? Please come back to us in one piece. Zeppelin can get crazy. 

Your friend, 

Juniper Lane 

Dear June,

I know it’s scary. I am scared. After what happened with David I thought I was never going to do this again. I promised myself I wouldn’t. I was going to lock my heart away in a cage. I looked myself in the face and promised myself that I wouldn’t ever go through what David put me through. 

I know I am so stupid. He probably has a girlfriend back home, or a wife, maybe even children. David had a girlfriend and kept me like a dirty secret. I know you know how that feels. I know Ginger broke your heart the same way. But with David… I really fell. I thought he loved me. He fooled me. He never meant a moment of it. 

But could you blame me? Who brings someone to Paris if they don’t mean it??? He was so perfect. He spoke French to me. He told me how beautiful I was in multiple languages. How could I not fall in love with that? 

I remember one night we were in the hotel and he told me “if I could eat anything I would eat you out” in French. That would make anyone swoon! I still can’t believe I don’t have him. I think there will always be a part of me that misses him. It’s pathetic and moronic, but it’s true. 

He wasn’t my first love, but he captured me in a vulnerable time. He hooked me for such a short time, but it’ll always be crystalized as an important time in my mind. After the devastation of Steven, I didn’t think I’d ever love again. And then again after David. I guess this is just what happens. You get hurt and you move on. You have to dust yourself off and get over it. 

So now I get to spend a few months with Robert Plant. And who knows what will happen? Maybe he’ll take me back home and this time… it’ll work. Maybe this time it’ll be real. Probably not, but doesn’t that sound so nice? 

How are you? How’s the house? I look forward to you telling me. I know this letter will take forever to get back home. Well, maybe a few days. But not as quick as a phone call. But I don’t want to take the phone from any of the guys calling home. 

This scene is crazy. Everyone… and I mean everyone, is always partying. Even the roadies are getting head in the clubs! Jimmy is really broken up about this girl he has back home. I guess they were pretty serious before he came out here. Robert said he hasn’t slept with anyone else this tour. I’m shocked! This Gwen girl must be pretty serious. Must be pretty special. She’s so lucky. 

Tell Lavender she can keep whatever she borrowed from me. I know she has my black platforms. I won’t be home and she’ll take them with her anyway. I must kiss them goodbye! 

Love, 

Lorelei Scanton

-

Dear Lor, 

I’m happy that you’re opening yourself up again. But this does seem really scary. You know he has a wife. You know he’s not going to take you home. You know he’s no good. He’s a rockstar. No matter what you think about him, he’s only going to hurt you. You know where this road leads. 

I know that you were really fucked up after Steven. I mean, fuck, who wouldn’t be? Especially since this whole war isn’t over. They’re really dragging it on. 

I don’t think you’re stupid, I think you’re lonely and lost. We all are. All of the girls are lost. Lavender, Lilly, Vickie, Lexi, Diamond, me, you… we’re all just looking for something. But these men are not it. They’re just filling the void. I don’t know what your void is. Maybe it’s Steven. Maybe it’s your dad. But you need to fill it with something good if you want to stop being hurt. 

I’m sorry if that’s harsh, but it’s the truth. 

I’m good. The house is shitty, as always. Lavender and Sarah moved in. Lavender took your room and Sarah took Trixie’s old room in the basement. I think Vickie wanted your room and now she’s bitter. But she pissed me off last week so I don’t care. 

She keeps leaving her fucking dishes in the sink! We all know the policy. And she’s just disregarding it. It’s not fair. 

It’s okay that the letters take a while to get here. I like the letters. It reminds me of sending postcards to my nana when I was a kid. Gives me something to look forward to. 

I love you and I hope you stay safe. 

Sincerely, 

Juniper Lane 

-

“Are you okay, Darling?” Robert asked. 

She pursed her lips, looking away from his kind gaze. He put his hand on her back and started to rub up and down her spine, trying his best to coax information out of her. 

“I’m fine. My friend just sent me a letter. And now I’m pissed off.” 

“What did she say?” 

“She thinks I’m an idiot. She thinks I’m wasting my time with you. She thinks you’re just going to hurt me. She doesn’t understand anything and she thinks she does.” 

Robert sighed. 

“That sounds quite complicated, love. Maybe she’s just worried.” 

“I know she is. I just-”

“Is this about the David situation?” 

Now she sighed. He deflated her. 

“Yes.” 

“See, she just cares. Why don’t you give it a few days and write her back?” 

“I should. You’re right,” she buried her face in his neck. Her resolve was broken and she needed to sleep now. 

--------

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy , @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin​ , @jimmysdragonsuit13​

#capricorn season #jimmy page #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fanfic #Jimmy Page smut #robert plant #robert plant fan fic #robert plant imagine #robert plant fanfiction #robert plant smut #classic rock #classic rock fandom #classic rock imagines #classic rock fanfiction #jimbert #jimbert fan fic #led zeppelin #70s #60s #writing #poetry #excerpts from my writing

[damonjuicyscock]

Playlist- Chapter 8: Too fast for love (90s Noel Gallagher X Reader)

Pairing: 90s Noel Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: language, a few spelling mistakes, but that's all.

Words: 3189

Summary: Los Angeles 1994, the Whisky A Gogo gig. Noel leaves, Y/N is worried. They're all searching for him, and all see that Y/N is still in love with Noel. How will it end ?

A/N: Heya Y'all ! Here's chapter 8. Yup, I got inspired as you can see. I can't wait for you horny lovies to read the next chapter ! I hope you are all doing fine and are taking care of you. Don't forget that you're loved and you're important. I'm saying this because there's probably people reading these fan fics who need to hear this.

Enjoy !

“Living on a jet

Making love to someone else's dreams

Say it again

She puts her legs up, well, calls it good luck

Do you know what I mean?

Oh-no, oh-no

Do you remember?

Well, I remember

Dream machine, so damn cool

She can turn on the night

The more that she gets

The more that she needs

Do you know what I mean?

Oh-no, oh-no

Do you remember?

Well, I remember

September 29th 1994- Los Angeles- Whisky A Gogo

Too fast

Too fast for love

Too fast, you're too fast for love”

Wow, I was in LA. It was spectacular, knowing I would probably never have come here in my life if I wasn’t with the band. But I was so damn happy to be there. And Oasis would play the Whisky A Gogo, which was something absolutely massive.

Such good bands played there before like The Doors, Led Zeppelin, Blondie, Mötley Crüe… And now Oasis would become one of the greats. Or at least, we thought. That was until the guys mistook cocaine with meth, that would lead to several sleepless nights and two splits.

That’s quite some good white powder! want some Y/N? Liam asked

Huh no, thanks. I answered

Ye’re not taking cocaine? Noel asked

Nah, I never did, and I’ll never do. You might think that’s fun, but this thing is actually shit. I prefer my weed.

Suit yerself. Noel answered

And knowing what happened and the state they were in, I did well. I tried several times to dissuade Noel from taking cocaine or other drugs like this, but I couldn’t do more than that, I was no one to tell him what he should or shouldn’t do. But that night, I should have tried harder. Especially when I discovered it was meth.

The gig was chaotic. They were all so wasted that they were playing several songs in one. Liam insulted the public, sniffed meth between songs at the back of the stage, threw his tambourine at Noel’s head, Noel’s vocals were terrible… Don’t do drugs kids.

After the gig, the brothers almost fought physically, I had to stop them. Liam was pissed off, and Noel was furious.

I fucking quit, I swear.

Noel, please calm down.

How am I supposed to fucking calm down when our only fucking chance to be known in the US was wasted because of this fucking dickhead?!

Do you even hear yourself talk? You’re talking about your brother Noel!

I knew ye would take his fucking side.

I’m not taking any side Noel; I’m just not letting you talk about your brother in those terms! You will have other chances. This time just think about not fucking doing meth.

Oh so that’s me fault then?

Come on Noel, try to think straight, you’re being paranoid! I never said it was your fault.

He had his fists balled up. I approached him and I took them in my hands, which seemed to soothe him.

Ye’re right, I’m soz.

Hey, it’s okay, you need some sleep. Come on, let’s go back at the hotel. We’ll go in our room, and I’ll roll us a joint, okay?

He nodded and we did as I said.

Once in the bedroom, I rolled a joint while Noel was preparing two G&T’s while being on the phone with Maggie. I started smoking when he finally hang up.

Our kid disappeared. He said

What do you mean by he disappeared?

After we argued, he apparently just vanished with his fucking towel around his neck.

Knowing him, he probably went out for a few scoops. I answered

Well I don’t want to involve the cops, me.

Who said we would have to involve them?

Well, knowing him, he’ll probably start a fucking fight.

Not necessarily. Let’s just… focus on you right now, okay? Come and sit on the bed with me. We’ll just drink, smoke, cuddle and relax, okay? That’s what you need right now. Liam is a big boy Noely.

Ye’re right.

He sat beside me, and we drank our G&T’s, then we laid down smoking a few joints silently, cuddling. And I made the big mistake of falling asleep. Yes, I was asleep in his arms, but the morning after, he wasn’t there anymore.

*

September 30th 1994- Los Angeles:

I woke up at 9am, alone in the bed. I started calling and looking for Noel everywhere in the room and finally thought he may be at the hotel’s restaurant. He may be decided I should get more sleep. But did he?

So without knowing what was expecting me, I took a shower and put some clean clothes on before going downstairs to join Noel who still wasn’t back.

And when I arrived, I was met by the others, and Noel was nowhere to be seen. Even Liam was there.

Heya guys.

Mornin’ Y/N. Bonehead answered

Did y’all manages to get some sleep?

Yup, and that’s a failure. Guigsy answered

Yea, a fuckin’ one. With all the scoops I had, I should have been able to fuckin’ sleep. But no. Liam said

You took too much meth Li’. I answered

Probably yea.

Where’s Noel? I asked

Huh… Guigsy hesitated

What is it? I asked

He’s fucking gone Y/N. Liam answered

What do you mean by he’s gone? I said, starting to panic

He’s gone like bye-bye, adfuckingdios, au revoir.

No shit Sherlock! I know what gone means, I mean where the fuck is he?

Okay stay calm Y/N but… we don’t know. Tony said

What the f… where’s Maggie?

She’s in her room, on the phone.

Well you all seem so concerned about the topic, so I’ll go see her.

She won’t have more information than us ye know? And we’re concerned ‘bout it. Tony answered

Yeah, nevermind.

I never had this much adrenaline in my body. It’s like I literally flew to Maggie’s room, hoping she would know more.

I didn’t even knock at her door and burst inside her room.

Where the fuck is he Maggie?

Y/N please, calm down. She answered

How can I calm the fuck down when I don’t know where Noel is? I fucking fell asleep with him next to me and the morning after he just fucking vanished?

Listen, all I can tell you is that he came to me late last night, asking me for all the money I had, if I could give it to him and his passport. He said he wanted to fly back to England.

He wouldn’t leave us here!

You mean he wouldn’t leave YOU here. Listen Y/N, I gave him 700$. We tried to join his mother and his other brother, but they didn’t answer yet.

That’s probably because they’re sleeping! I exclaimed

Okay, that’s enough Y/N, we’ll talk when you’ll be calm. Now let me do my job. Go smoke some weed or something.

*

I spent the afternoon smoking weed and cigarettes and drinking away my worry.

I was fucking wasted but it was working. And soon, I was joined by Liam.

Drinking away yer sorrow won’t work. Already tried it and that’s shite.

I’m not… Well yeah, I’m sad in a way, and disappointed… but mostly, I’m fucking worried. He could have talked to me for fuck’s sake!

I know. He answered, ordering a drink

I was so drunk I started saying things I shouldn’t have.

I fucking love him Li’. I fucking love him and it would fucking kill me if he didn’t feel the same.

I already know all this, love. And I know he loves ye too. The way he looks at ye says it all. And even if he didn’t love ye like that anymore, we all know ye’ll still be living ‘cause ye don’t need anybody. Stop moaning, it’s not ye.

I chuckled.

You’re right, it’s not me. But I can’t stop worrying.

I know that, me.

Come on, buy me another scoop and let’s have a toast. Your concert yesterday may not have been the best, but you still put on a good show.

Damn yea we did, and we will in the future.

I don’t doubt it.

Liam bought me another drink and we drank a toast.

Here’s to future concerts where we’re going to have a fucking blast and give it our fucking all!

And here’s to future concerts without meth and with cocaine instead, shall we?

Ye’re fuckin’ right, I’ll never try meth again, me. I want to be able to fucking sleep and sing well fer fuck’s sake.

*

The morning after, I woke up shitfaced and in my undies. I opened my eyes, holding my head. Then I heard snoring next to me. I turned my head and saw Liam, at his best, his buttocks sticking out of the blanket. I put my hands over my mouth in shock.

Oh you’ve got to be shitting me! I exclaimed

This woke Liam up.

Shh, don’t speak so fucking loud! He growled

L-L-Liam, you’re naked.

And so what? Ye’ve never seen a Gallagher naked? ‘Cause I’m sure ye’ve seen Noel naked countless ti…

Liam! I shouted

Alright, fine! I’ll cover me model body.

Ah ah, very funny Liam! Please, tell me we didn’t…

Didn’t what?

Well you know…

No I don’t.

For fuck’s sake Liam, tell me we didn’t have sex!

Liam looked at me and burst out laughing.

Ye’re a beautiful girl Y/N, but no, we didn’t have sex. Ye’re like a sister to me. And believe me, if we did, ye’d remember it!

Your humility will get the better of you one day, you know that?

Yea, I know. Now listen, ye look like ye’ve had a blackout, okay? What I can tell ye, right, is that we had a lot to drink last night at the bar, we had a lot of fun, then at some point ye didn’t feel well, ye wanted to get some fresh air and ye threw yer room keys down a fucking drain, so I told ye we were going to sleep in me room. When we got there, ye threw up on the head of someone who was in the pool, he started to shout at ye, so he had a problem with me, meanwhile ye were laughing yer head off and flipping him off. When we finally got back to the room, ye went straight to the bathroom and ye took a cold shower without undressing, so afterwards, I had to take yer clothes off, ye threw yerself on the bed in yer underwear and fell asleep. As fer me, I just like to sleep naked, that’s all. Is it good fer ye?

Huh yeah… I really did that? I asked

Oh yea ye did. I’d never lie to ye Y/N.

Soz…

Don’t. it was fun.

Okay… I’m… I’m gonna go see if Maggie has any news about Noel.

Yea. But ye should get dressed fer it. A little fucking decency, at least.

*

And a few minutes after, I was in Maggie’s room. She still didn’t have news from Noel, but she was having a few ideas on how to find him.

He doesn’t have a credit card with him, but he has a phone. I could trace his calls and it would tell us where he is.

Why didn’t you think about this before? I asked

Listen, we were all in a bit of a turmoil and we needed a bit of peace and quiet to think things through, and in the end, it just came to me. That’s what counts, isn’t it? Please Y/N, don’t be a pain in the arse.

I won’t be a pain in the arse! that was just a fucking question Maggie! I just wish I knew where Noel fucking was so I could go and find him!

You’re not going to like what I’m going to tell you but… if anyone’s going to go looking for him, it won’t be you. For safety’s sake, and we can’t lose anyone else, especially you. Liam and Noel would kill me.

I don’t give a fuck about my safety Maggie! I want to be part of it, don’t take this away from me, I’ll be the only one he’ll talk to.

If by “don’t take this away from me” you’re talking about your reunion, I’m not taking this away from you. You’ll have it, just not like this. You’re too important Y/N, we can’t send you to where he is, I’m sorry. But I promise you I’ll find him, and I promise you a reunion, that’s for sure. I know how much you love him. I know how you’re in love with him, and there’s nothing more beautiful than love, so no, I can’t afford to lose you, wherever he is. Because I think Noel loves you the same way, and I have no right to take THAT away from you. I can’t let you go because, depending on where he is, it might be dangerous for you, knowing that he's not in London nor Manchester, so places you know or at least a bit about. I swear, Noel would make me regret it.

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. I was too stressed, and everyone had apparently found out about my love for Noel. Only Noel didn’t seem to see anything.

Alright.

Good. She answered

That’s when Maggie’s phone rang, giving me hope. She answered, repeating “alright” and “thank you” several times before hanging up.

So? I asked

He’s in San Francisco. Tim will go.

*

October 14th 1994- Minneapolis

Noel was supposed to come back, their next gig would be this night. I hadn’t been able to sleep all night. I was lying in my bunk on the tour bus thinking about him. He’d gone for tea with Liam to have a chat, and it was only right that they should meet up before our own reunion.

At 9am, I decided to get up and get dressed, and went out for a cigarette. And then I saw him, approaching me. I ran to him, and he opened his arms and hugged me tight.

I’m so fucking soz… He said

You scared the shit out of me Noely… I answered

I know.

Why did you do that? I asked

I took too much drugs, I needed some time to clear me head and I needed to think. I was so mad, I needed to teach our kid a lesson.

You could have least taken me with you! I chuckled

Don’t worry, I was in good hands, and I was even able to write a song.

Oh really?

Yeah, it was a way to thank Melissa, the girl who welcomed me and let me stay at her place in San Francisco.

I smiled, but I was only pretending. Deep down, I felt that something had happened between this Melissa and Noel, and I didn’t like it at all. Imagining Noel with someone else was breaking my heart.

That’s a beautiful thing you did here Noely, will you play it to me after the gig tonight?

We��ll see, if ye’re good. He answered winking at me

But during the gig, this song was running in my head. Noel and Liam had started singing Rock N’Roll star and Noel’s guitar case caught my eye. I had to find a paper. I had to find this song. And when I opened it, there it was. It was called Talk Tonight. So I read it. And I knew Noel by heart. This time I was sure when reading it that things had happened.

Oasis finished their set and left the stage. I was sulking. My heart was in pieces.

What did ye think? We were great, right? Noel asked

Yeah, not bad. I answered

Not bad? I gave me fucking heart and soul!

Yeah, you might have. I answered dryly

Okay, what’s wrong? Why d’ye have a cob on?

Not here Noel.

Yes here!

No! I shouted

Okay, then follow me upstairs, we’ll smoke a fag.

We went upstairs and found a door leading us outwards. I lit my cigarette myself when he was about to do it, so instead, he lit his. I remained silent.

Oh come on, are ye going to talk or are ye going to give me the silent treatment?

I knew I would cry if I talked, but I had to.

Did you fuck her? I asked, my voice trembling

What?!

Come on Noel, tell me the truth.

Why does it matter?

Just answer the fucking question Noel! I answered, on the verge of tears

Yea, and so what?

You’ve got to be shitting me! I shouted

What’s yer fucking problem Y/N?

Tears started rolling down my cheeks, I was sobbing hard. My heart hurt and I almost couldn’t breathe anymore.

Are you fucking blind or are you doing this on purpose? I’ve been sending you explicit messages for almost two fucking years now and you can’t see anything? Can’t you see that I fucking love you to death Noel?

Are ye fucking kidding me? Ye are the one who fucking left me Y/N!

I didn’t, you did! Yous stopped calling overnight after an argument, you fucking broke up with me!

I never explicitly told ye that I wanted to break up with ye! I was a fucking roadie fer fuck’s sake! Ye should see and know what a job that is!

You’re fucking lying to yourself, that’s brilliant!

I’m not!

Don’t you dare tell me that you didn’t even have two fucking minutes to call me because that’s not true! You’re the one responsible! You left me! You broke my heart!

Oh so ye think ye didn’t break mine? When I came back to Manchester and me mam told me ye’d left and I came home, alone, in that empty apartment, Ringo wasn’t even there… I suffered, I suffered enormously. And then a few days later, I decided to find ye, to come and see ye, because me fucking life depended on it, I had to see ye! I had to see if ye were happy!

I fucking wasn’t! So that’s my fault then? You want to play it like that?

Oh come on Y/N, I never said…

Fuck you Noel! Fuck you!

Wait Y/N, I…

Fuck off!

#liam and noel #oasis #oasis band #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher smut #noel gallagher fanfic #noel gallagher fluff #noel gallagher #noel gallagher oneshot #90s liam gallagher #90s noel gallagher #liam gallagher x reader #Spotify

[theoriginaleppieblack-blog]

Took the lads out into the stone circle in the museum’s garden for more pictures with the 1970 Barbie camper. Look at those mugs. If you aren't familiar with my dolls they are from Mattel's Creatable World line and their given names are Alex (he/him, left) and Tris (he/him, right).

The names Alex and Tris have a storied history as fanfiction code for Robert Plant and Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin.

Right down to business. The guitar is the first thing I've ever 3D printed. I did it at my local library, for free!

below: This is sort of the shot that I designed the interior remodel of the Barbie camper around - Alex laying on the futon with his hair fanning out like that.

This one is for the Zep heads (well, all of this is for the Zep heads but this one is special). You guys (gn) know what photo I was thinking of when I posed this).

Although she's no Starship the 1970 Barbie Country Camper is a fine vehicle. I have a lot more photos from this session on my ipad and I even have a stop motion sequence to edit. So stay tuned for more.

After all the props were ready but before I got good weather for taking pictures in the garden, I read an amazing Led Zeppelin fic on AO3 that may have influenced this photoshoot. It's The Road So Far by sodium_amytal, a beautiful Led Zeppelin AU.

#led zeppelin #tris/alex #barbie #jimbert #god bless the 70s #peak 70s childhood #fashion dolls #dollblr #70s #creatable world

[olderthannetfic]

Since you seem to be litigating rpf right now and since you’ve been around awhile, I wanted to ask you about how it’s evolved, if you haven’t already talked about that? I’ve been in fandom for maybe 15ish years, and I remember reading a lot of rpf back then (when rps seemed like more common terminology), and I feel like there were more defined lines between fans and the real people they wrote about. A lot of “if you got here by googling yourself, go back” disclaimers vs the current culture where some fans seem to show the people or ask them about fic and art and other fan works. It’s like there was a culture of secrecy before where there was less of a desire for the fanworks to ever reach their subjects, rpf or otherwise. I think most rpf writers/creators still feel that way, but I see so many awkward interview panels where actors/etc are being asked about fanfic. Is this in my head, or is the shift real?

--

Heh. Well, I was never a fan of any boy bands or the like until bitten by the BTS bug. I didn't even know who BSB and NSYNC were at the height of their popularity. So I did not always have a front-row seat to RPF evolution, but as far as I know, it went something like this in English-speaking spaces:

Prehistory: 1960s magazines were full of "Your night on a date with [member of the Monkees]" type stories. Music RPF was floating around in various forms for a long, long time, though the m/m band member/band member stuff tended to be extremely locked down, often with the names replaced.

From Eroica with Love shows how horny everybody was for Led Zeppelin back then. I can only presume there were doujinshi of the members in Japanese, but I'm not really familiar with what was going on over there.

Idols & Visual Kei: English-speaking fandom of Asian groups was into RPF by the early 00s and perhaps before. I was tangentially aware of this stuff from being in anime fandom but wasn't interested because I wasn't into most of the music itself. (Also, this was the era of limewire computer viruses or paying like $60 to get a Japanese album legally in the US.)

Johnny's Entertainment fandom is what I associate with this, circa 2001. On the visual kei side, people were shipping Malice Mizer around then.

Godawful 2003 vampire movie Moon Child, starring Gackt (of Malice Mizer and solo fame) and Hyde of L'Arc~en~Ciel (yes, with a fucking tilde) did make people ship their characters but certainly did not dissuade people from shipping the guys themselves.

Popslash - Ye olde slash fandom converts: On the very, very Western side of things, all of the oldschool slashers started catching the RPF bug for "popslash" in the late 90s/early 00s. Prior to this, RPF was a HARD NO for much of this crowd and continued to be seen as a dirty secret. This umbrella term was intended for specifically BSB, NSYNC, and a few other pop stars, not just fic of any pop act. I don't know if people were calling it "RPS". I think they were just calling it "popslash", but I wasn't on the mailing lists and things. This was a pre-LJ era with that older infrastructure.

LOTR - Ye olde slash fandom converts again: Those that didn't get sucked in by popslash fell to LotRiPS when the Lord of the Rings movies came out in the early 00s. RPS was still seen as a shocking dirty secret before the advent of this fandom. Afterwards... people still hated it, but they'd realized there was no way to fully keep it out of their spaces. This also coincided with the move from the bajillions of LOTR (non RPF) archives with picky rules and mailing lists ruled with an iron fist to LJ with people's personal blogs full of their ungovernable wrong opinions and terrible taste in fandoms on display for all the world to see.

There was so much structured behind the scenes material for the LOTR movies that it formed a kind of canon of its own along with the press tours, and the actors were cuddly with each other. I don't think this is easy to understand now. Even the Hobbit movies didn't have this vibe, and there's so much more behind the scenes info and so many more youtube clips for everything now that the effect is much diminished. At the time, LOTR felt like a new era in sff franchise media.

There was tons of any two gu... um... somewhat generic hot porn, so even if you didn't care much for RPF, it became an attractive fandom. At this point, people were calling it "RPS", not "RPF", despite there being some femslash and het in the same spaces as all the Viggo/Orlando. The domlijah tinhats were notorious and did go bother the actors, I think?

The height of this fandom coincided with the height of cringey photomanips and "Why are their necks broken?" art with actors' faces on it. Fanartist The Theban Band was well known, though more for FPF than RPF. It's just that when you use the actual actors' faces, things tend to get conflated. Now, whether people started bothering most of the actors at the time in the early 00s, I don't know. Fanlore suggests that misuse of The Theban Band's art was already well underway in 2004. It's also often this stuff that Graham Norton bothers actors with years later.

It's not so much that fandom or RPF fandom changed at this point as that new people were into RPF who hadn't been before and much more importantly, the internet was changing. The level of access to actors and the level of awareness of online fandoms was changing radically around here. It changed again with Twitter and so forth, but this was still a major point in internet history.

Rockfic: "Rockfic" as seen on the Rockfic archive got started at some point. They meant Metallica, Bon Jovi, etc. I mostly know about them because there was beef between them and some of the popslash and bandom people around the time OTW was starting. (Popslash and bandom but not rockfic communities being well represented among OTW founders.)

Bandom: "Bandom" is another umbrella term with a general sound but a specific meaning. It was used for Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, and associated bands. This RPF fandom got big on LJ at the height of LJ fandom. It sucked in plenty of Western fandoms types who hadn't been into RPF before.

At the time, some of these bands and their associates weren't that famous, and they had personal Livejournals. It was not unusual for people peripherally involved with the actual people to be in the same spaces as the RPF. This was very much not appreciated by a lot of the fic authors. Band reactions seem to have varied between "yuck" and "Why doesn't anyone ship MEEEE? Don't you think I'M hot???" and other jokey lack of boundaries stuff.

A lot of the "Go away, X" disclaimers that sound like jokes are from this era and are due to some of these people actively going looking for the lulz.

Hockey - The final nail in the coffin for ye olde slash fandom: If the Popslash and LotRiPS waves didn't get people, Hockey did. After SGA, all the big slash writers that people follow from fandom to fandom seemed to be going to Hockey RPF.

Asianfanfics.com: Meanwhile, on the Asian media side of things, sites like Asianfanfics have been going strong for ages and are full of kpop rpf and the like.

Wattpad: Wattpad was the home of not only the Larries but of soooo much more Mary Sue/1D guy, and now Mary Sue/Jungkook.

--

How the boundaries are really depends on the era and the fandom.

The Rockfic archive used to make you pay a buck to sign up or something. It was extremely locked down, from what I remember, as you'd expect from a very old community writing m/m about macho bands.

The hockey people don't tend to be all up in players' faces because the players were mega, mega, mega famous long before the RPF fandom got big and because half the fandom doesn't even like sports: they're just there for the m/m AUs.

The Wattpad fandoms are a toxic hive of no boundaries and 13-year-olds posting their porn and too much personal info, but with fandoms as big as 1D or BTS, you can figure that plenty of individual people behave themselves.

Asking actors about fic in panels has become more common over the years, I think, though people have also learned to head it off better. I wouldn't say this is a RPF-specific phenomenon though.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

NSFW 18+ minors DNI. I will not stand for bullshit. No fighting. No kink shaming. No ship shaming.

#QueenieWritesStories

All of My Love: Steddie || ~1.1k words || rating M || cws: getting high || It's my boys being soft and falling in love over a week of Led Zeppelin.

Gentle Noise: Steve & Max || ~1.6k words || rating T || cws: implied child neglect and abuse || Steve can't help but wonder what it's like being a kid in Max's home compared to his own.

Immortal Eddie Munson (bittersweet): Steddie || 373 words || rating G || cws: none || As the Party ages around him, Eddie's reminded of how much he's loved.

Immortal Eddie Munson (hurt/no comfort): Steddie || ~1.6k words || rating E || cws: DEAD DOVE. All CWs are listed at the top of the fic PLEASE do not ignore them || Eddie watches his loved ones age and eventually leave him behind. This is an alternative telling to bittersweet.

Pin: Steddie (Prompt) || 388 words || rating T || cws: innuendos || Steve and Dustin argue the appropriateness of their chosen game and Eddie intervenes.

Stuck: Steddie || ~1.5k words || rating T || cws: dissociation, unlabeled neurodivergencies and mental illness || Steve and Eddie struggle to recover after a chaotic day with The Party

A Desperate Fool: Steddie (Prompt) || 454 words || rating: T || cws: hurt/no comfort, break-up || A year after a messy public break-up, Eddie shows up begging for forgiveness, and Robin's not having it.

Current brain soup ingredients include…

#queenie's void brain

Steve Harrington (Steddie)

Formula One (Carlando)

Lord of the Rings

The Locked Tomb trilogy (Griddlehark)

The Clone Wars (501st shenanigans)

Stormlight Archives (shakadolin)

Percy Jackson

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Over the Garden Wall

Arcane

What We do in the Shadows

Our Flag Means Death

Anything N.K. Jemisin writes EVER

10 random facts about me

(Below the cut)

I'm from Minnesota / Wisconsin, USA. Yes it's cold and I'm not a fan. I'll wear all black and lay out like a lizard when it's +90F outside. Trying to store the warmth like a god damn solar battery.

My only sibling is my brother who's 15 years younger than me. We have nothing in common beyond both being queer (and even that's not the same). He is the other half of my soul.

I'm an amateur florist. I do all of my friends and families weddings for free. It's my "What if everyone got paid a living wage and I wasn't enslaved to capitalism" dream

I love punk and metal music, but I also listen to classical, movie scores, blues, and alternative indie pop. I discover bands super late, way after they're famous. So late it's embarrassing lol

Ao3 > TV Shows > Books > Movies >>> Video games. I've tried playing so many video games and all I like are Mario Bros, Donkey Kong Country, Stardew Valley, and Cult of the Lamb.

I've got two cats: Kitty Harrington (aka Harri aka BeBe aka Stinky Bones) and Stardust (aka Monster aka Dusty). Kitty Harrington was a play on Kit Harrington, while Stardust is for the new FOB album So Much For Stardust. My partner is slightly concerned I've secretly concocted a plan to name our cats Harrington and Dustin... who can say??

Out of all the pop culture nerd geek shit I get hyperfixated on, I'm weirdly obsessed with F1 right now. Drive to Survive on Netflix hooked the shit out of me and now my partner has to listen to me bitch about driver trades, team dynamics, and proper tire selection. I love him for it.

I'm learning embroidery!! I'm trying to make my own heat-on patches so I can start making my own battle vest and I'm so excited about it. I've got like five different denim jackets to practice on.

My dreams are weird and intense. Usually they're about whatever I'm in to at the moment, or some amalgamation of insanity. I've considered turning some of them into stories, like my spicy dreams into reader insert fics. I used to write a lot of horror based on my nightmares and they were always my best stories.

I'm scared shitless to write. I used to write all the time in high school and early college. My mom still tells me she's disappointed I got a Biology degree instead of Creative Writing and editing. So here I am, writing Steddie fics in secret. Proving to myself I can enjoy doing something I used to love without all the pressure of doing it well or holding myself to the idealized version of potential my mom has built me up to be. I'm just out here doing it for me. I'm publishing it. And it doesn't have to be good. It's just about me enjoying myself!

#finally introducing myself #come say hi! #I swear I'm nice I only bite if prompted #QueenieWritesStories #queenie's void brain