#faithfull companion

[sinful-godde]

♥️

[torpedopickle]

I want to talk about how Dungeons and Dragons Honor Among Thieves is an excellent use of meta humor applied seamlessly to a story without ever breaking immersion.

Mild spoilers. I'll keep it vague so nothing will be spoiled if you choose to read on

This movie integrates many things that someone familiar with D&D would recognize from the narrative structure of a campaign.

There are some things in particular that demonstrate this particularly well

At one point, the party is joined temporarily by the character Xenk. But he really feels like he'd be an NPC party member controlled by the GM rather than a player. So when the other characters banter and quip, this character doesn't really join in or get their jokes cuz he simply wouldn't have the agency to. More examples of this would be how he's much more capable than the others, but he doesn't overshadow them. He provides aid if it's desperately needed, and will sometimes bail rhe party out of situations they can't manage on their own, just like how a GM should utilize an NPC companion. He even has a quote that perfectly reflects this. "I've given you the tools. Now you have to be the ones to use them". There's even a more direct joke about his NPC behavior. When he leaves the story, he walks off in a random direction, going straight forward, even stepping over obstacles and terrain unnecessarily. This all amounts to him feeling like a very clear GM controlled NPC, however he is presented in a way that still makes him feel entirely faithfull to his own world and does not break immersion

Other ways the movie plays around with the GM campaign structure would be the approach to backstory. The only time a character outright explains what their backstory is, in full, directly to us, is at the very start, to give context for the story going forward, as the character even puts it himself. Backstory later in the movie is told to us whenever it's relevant. Characters will toss in another fact or two about themselves in situations where mentioning a past experience would fit in. Much like how players usually prefer to build their characters.

And one of my favorite instances of being meta about D&D campaign structures comes in the second act.

the characters are faced with a complex and dangerous obstacle. The GM's stand in, xenk, explains the method of progressing through this obstacle correctly. But in true D&D fashion, the party immediately does it wrong and now the campaign has been derailed and the GM's setup squandered. So now they straight up don't have a way forward in the narrative. Logically, it should end there. But that'd be a shit campaign, so the GM would naturally bend the rules to get things back on track. So after the party fails the obstacle, one of them goes; "Hang on, that stick we've had with us the entire time isn't a stick after all! It's actually a magic staff that solves our EXACT predicament at this EXACT time". That is such a clear cut meta joke about GM's having to get things back on track cuz players are all chaotic evil. Is it a plot contrivance? Absolutely. One of the biggest ever. But it's what D&D is built on

[powderblueblood]

a cat is only itself

eddie helps lacy process the death of a friend he didn't know she had. a/n: this ficlet is completely self-indulgent and an effort in processing grief. last night, i lost my young cat in a cruel and tragic accident. she would have turned 3 this week. i wanted to write something that would help me process all that happened that night and anchor my love for her. i do not know what to do with all the love i have for her, so i put some of it in here. this is for fran. i love you forever. cw: dead dove, extreme TW for pet death, animal suffering, description of animals in pain, strong language and implied driving under intoxication i guess, classic edlacy banter, angst, yearning. this takes place in that nebulous just friends part of the hellfire & ice timeline. but who knows. this is kind of flung out of time and space. no one is under any obligation to read this as i know the subject matter is heavy. it was heavy to write it. thank you if you do though. wc: 5.7k part of the hellfire & ice universe

The day she came began as unremarkably as the day she went. 

Lacy’s boots were biting her–as in, chomping at her toes, due to them being both a touch too tight (doesn’t matter, too gorgeous to leave them behind in the thrift store) and her tights being a touch too thin. An unseasonal frost was creeping in and she’d elected to walk home and not get a backache in the library chairs while she waited for Eddie and Ronnie to finish up with another bottomless Hellfire session.

Rounding her part of the trailer park, she spied movement up by the raggedy chainlink fence. It seemed as if the equally raggedy Mayfield mutt was being bothered by something. A flash of iridescent eyes in her direction and Lacy saw that it was a little black kitten, no bigger than a cantaloupe, swiping at the dog’s nose. Her little eyes locked on Lacy’s little eyes, Lacy huffing out a steamy puff of laughter. That thing was so small, yet it was putting more anxiety on that Mayfield dog than SAT prep put on Nancy Wheeler. 

A flash–the cat darted straight to her, circling and dodging around her ankles. Lacy tried to pick her head up, ignore the little bother, but, y’know. Kittens. There’s no saying no to them, especially if they’re uncharacteristically insistent. 

Cats usually have a decent sense of boundaries, which is why Lacy was shocked that this little thing dashed into her trailer ahead of her. Tail up, making a beeline straight to her bedroom. 

She hopped upon Lacy’s dinky excuse for a double bed, making a seat for herself on a cozy tartan scarf Lacy had earlier discarded when dressing for school.   

“Hey… hey. You can’t be in here!” Lacy tried her best to shoo the cat out her open window, but there’s no moving her at all. 

They spent the rest of the night just staring warily at one another, a Marianne Faithfull record spinning lowly in the background. 

The next day, Lacy found flea shampoo in Melvald’s and washed the kitten in the bathroom sink in the dead of night. The little thing squirmed, a living sudball, biting but not harsh enough to break skin. 

“Cat, don’t be a difficult child!” Lacy hissed to her, rinsing out the bubbles so her fur was clean and flea-free, “We’ll wake up Gloriana de Vil, and then she’ll have you for a coin purse. You wouldn’t like that, huh? No?" Her voice slid into babyfied territory, her usual reserve no match for this tiny creature. "No, my little thing?”

The cat, gleefully ruffled through a towel, woke up fresh and shiny the next morning in the crook behind Lacy’s knees.

And that same day, Lacy passed the junk shop on the way to the Bookstore. In the window, she spotted a little leather band with a diamante heart. Just about big enough for a collar.

Every night, the cat scratched on Lacy’s window, seemingly knowing when Gloriana’s Valium would hit and she’d be safe to snuggle in beside her new companion. In the morning, she would sit on Lacy’s dressing table to watch her get ready for school, or for work, or once, a matinee engagement at the Hawk with one Eddie Munson. They were showing Excalibur, and Eddie fucking begged. 

Lacy had picked out these dangly earrings that the cat was fascinated by, jumping on her shoulder to bite at the swinging creatures. Lacy had been so preoccupied with humoring the cat that she hadn’t even noticed Eddie watching them through her open bedroom window– but the cat did. She scarpered out upon seeing him, diving into the hollow space under the Doevski trailer’s tiny porch. 

She watched Eddie with shining green eyes, all that could be seen under the clapboard. 

“Who’s the familiar?” Eddie asked, propping the van door open for Lacy. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” came the coy reply. “Come on, we’ll miss the previews.” 

It’s not that Lacy kept the cat a secret on purpose. It’s just that… she loved what they shared. Just the two of them. She'd had so much dirty laundry aired, it was good to have something just her own.

—

The day she went begins as unremarkable as the day she came.

It’s a Saturday evening, a thick, hot greyness hanging over the sky. Lacy’s languishing in her bedroom on a rare day of doing next to nothing, because it’s too humid to even attempt. She has her window open, half expecting company but half not. Her fountain pen trails idly on the paper stock of her journal. Nothing much worth writing down when the air feels this sluggish. 

Bang, bang, bang!

Someone’s door is getting a hammering. 

Bang, bang!

Must be the Munson’s. 

Little close, though. 

She heaves herself off the carpet to go check it out, opening the door to a breathless young redhead. Max Mayfield, Hargrove’s stepsister. 

“Can I–”

“That– that little black cat, with the collar? The heart collar? She’s yours, right?”

Oh, here we go. Lacy crosses her arms, bracing for the whole, your bitch cat scratched my dog bit. “Why?”

“She just… someone hit her with a car. Up the lot.” Max breathes hard through her nose. She’d run here. That strikes lacy, the pink bloom under her freckled cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Lacy’s neck suddenly feels very stiff. “Wh–what do you mean?”

“Come on. Come with me. Will you just come with me?”

Max’s sweaty hand links with Lacy’s paper dry palm and she drags her up the lot. This is the way I go to Ronnie’s place, Lacy idly thinks as her legs struggle to keep up with Max’s. Standing around with the bound arms of grown-ups raptured by impotence are Max Mayfield’s mother, that lady Nita who does Ronnie’s hair and Carl, the grizzled trailer park manager. 

In the middle of the loose gravel and sprouting grass is the little black cat. She is on the ground, and she is gasping. Wheezing. Skinned at the side of her tiny face, teeth missing. The diamante heart she wears glitters against the loose gravel. The blood glitters against the diamante. 

“Oh. Oh. Cat.” Lacy’s voice sounds as if it’s folded up in her throat. It feels that way. She doesn’t know what to do with her limbs. She doesn’t know where to step. 

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” the Mayfield mom says.

“Some asshole just came roaring out of here, didn’t even… didn’t even stop,” Carl nods gravely.  

“Nita’s cousin is a veterinary nurse. She’s on the way,” Max tells Lacy, level-headed and soberly. She is still holding her hand. Lacy notices the rough grey dog sitting close by. She stares at him, hazy-eyed, and he whines. His head drops to his two front paws and Lacy feels lightheaded.

“He tried to help,” Max says.

She feels her knees bend but does not register her brain telling her body to get on the ground. Cat is wheezing, wheezing, a high whine in her little cat throat that nearly makes Lacy echo it. She shouldn’t be out here. Who hit her? She shouldn’t be out here, she’s probably cold. She’s probably uncomfortable. 

“Can I please take her home, please?” Lacy asks in about as level a voice as she can muster, which is not very.

“It’s best not to move her, hon. She’s very hurt.” Nita, in her bright shell suit, kneels beside her on the ground. A little speck of blood gets on the fluorescent lilac of her pant leg and Lacy’s breath shortens.

“She is… she’s very hurt,” she whispers, half-reaching for the little feline, half-recoiling, “Oh, Jesus. You’re very hurt. You’re very hurt, Cat. Poor Cat.”

Nita hugs her, which she doesn’t know how to respond to, except to stiffly thank her and vaguely gesture to her stained knee. 

Nita’s cousin arrives in a shiny blue Sedan, and they help her safely move Cat back to Lacy’s trailer. She is nestled in a towel with a faded print of Minnie Mouse on it, and they put her up on the Formica table where Lacy and her mother never meet for a meal. A quick flash of fear that her blood might stain the tabletop is soon killed by the sound that poor Cat makes. 

On the left side of her face, her beautiful green eye is reddened. 

A hard tangy smell wedges itself deep in Lacy’s nose and she doesn’t blink for a long, long time. 

Nita’s cousin, the veterinary nurse, a woman with a terrifically soothing voice who she thinks is called Stacie, checks the cat’s vitals. It’s very quickly assessed– too much damage. Spinal. Abdominal. That’s where all that blood is coming from. Paw crushed. She’s still making that terrible wheezing noise. 

Rage against the dying of the light comes to mind and Lacy wants to hit herself. Not this. Not sentiment. Not now.

Cat hangs on til the bitter end.

“How old is she?” Max asks, her voice either very quiet or very far away. Lacy cannot tell.

“I don’t– I don’t know. I don’t know.” Lacy looks to the lovely, warm-voiced woman who could be called Stacie. “How old is she?”

“She's very little. Can’t even say she’s reached her first birthday, hon.”

Lacy feels sick, and sicker, and sicker. Tunnel vision shows her nothing but the cat, once with the highest trilling meow, sputtering. 

Cat reaches her paw out to Lacy a final time, and she lets go.

Lacy tearfully exhales a noise she’s never heard herself make before, and asks everyone to please, please wait. Please. 

They wrap Cat in the tartan scarf. 

Max hovers near Lacy, her arms bound tight around her chest, as if shielding herself from the sadness seeping from the walls. 

“Do you want me t–”

“Did you see who hit her?” Lacy asks Max. A clear and loaded question; she’s asking if it was Billy. Billy and that fucking weapon of mass compensation he calls a car.

For a split second, Max looks angry at the flash accusation, even though she knows the kind of putrid her stepbrother is. But she tamps it down; she’s a better woman than Lacy is, for a middle schooler. 

“I didn’t recognize the car. Just… some fucking asshole,” Max swallows. “If I see him again, I’m putting sugar in his gas tank.”

Lacy just nods and makes some vague-mouthed attempt at a thanks for everything, Max, Stacie, Nita. Nita is hesitant to leave her alone, as is Max, but Stacie ushers them out. Leaves her number, just in case Lacy should need anything. 

Lacy spends what feels like an eternity staring at the yellowed plastic of the phone nailed to the kitchen wall. She realizes she’s got no contact for the one person she wants to call. Her hand hovers over the scarf-wrapped cat like she’s trying to cast some kind of impotent spell, and she reaches for the open smokes on the table behind her. Lacy spends what feels like eternity under the awning-covered picnic table, chain smoking and sniffing sulfur from clouds that refuse to break. 

—

The van’s lights finally flood the ground at her feet. Eddie emerges, slinging himself out of the van in that loose-limbed metal marionette way that he has. His Hellfire shirt cuts a stinging image in the dark. 

He spots her immediately, in that way that makes her sometimes think he enters spaces accidentally looking for her. 

Sometimes she does the same.

“Well, what have we got here? A little dark night of the soul with the Marlboro Ma–... Lace?”

Some sliver of moonlight cuts through the tear streaks in her makeup and stops him up short.

“Eddie,” Lacy croaks. Her throat is ashen, her eyes are ashen, her head is pounding. 

“Hey, hey…” His voice tunes right down into an immediate soothe, arms hovering around her like they aren’t quite sure how to ring around her yet. “Oh, hey, hey, what the shit? What’s the matter?”

Her throat thickens. “Oh, this is stupid.”

That makes him put a firm grasp around her shoulders. He smells like excitable sweat and Mountain Dew– the Hellfire Club special. “What’s happened, sweetheart?”

A rough sound comes out of her nose. “You know that… you know that stupid cat that’s been coming around my trailer–”

“The cat you’ve been pretending not to have?” She should abhor how perceptive he is.

“Y… yes. She, w– well, someone hit her. With a car. It’s s– she didn’t make it–’

“Oh, holy shit.” Eddie wraps her up in his arms, her head pressing hard into the joint of his shoulder. Lacy’s eyes screw up harder, as if she could push them to the back of her skull. 

“They just hit her, Eddie, and they kept going–”

“Holy shit.”

“And I didn’t– and, but, Max Mayfield, she came to get me and– it was just, I didn’t hear the door in time–”

“Come on. No, no. Come on, baby, inside. Up, up, atta girl.” Eddie about props her up, steering her right into his trailer. Lacy’s preset Wayne alarm goes off–is he here, doesn’t he hate me, I don’t want to die tonight too–but Eddie’s quick on the buzzer. 

“Night shift, sweetheart. You’re safe. Siddown.”

“It’s so stupid.” She drops in slow motion onto the Munson’s sagging couch. It aches to move.

Eddie sinks in right beside her, leaving no room for a draught between them. He’s running warm, no doubt hopped up on caffeine and campaign mischief. 

“Hey. Not stupid. Not stupid.” His voice is featherlight. He tucks the tiniest lock of hair behind her ear. 

“I loved that little thing.”

“I know you did. Well–I didn’t have the privilege of knowing you did, really, but you… obviously did, Lace. Shit.”

“Fucking little bitch,” Lacy says, voice a roux of incredulity and betrayal. “I loved her.”

Eddie snorts and pulls her right close. She crumples up and sobs good, like the sounds she makes can’t quite fill the cavern this has created in her. Lacy sobs until her head can’t take it anymore, a wet spot and a streak of mascara left on Eddie’s Hellfire shirt. 

But Eddie is sweet and patient, and strokes her hair and doesn’t comment on how ugly she probably sounds. Not at all. 

After a little bit, he asks, “Lace. Where’d you find her?”

“Uh. She must be– must’ve been just a stray, you know, from around. I found her giving shit to the Mayfields’ dog.”

“Huh?” Eddie’s brow leaps.

“Yeah,” Lacy breathes, lowly and mirthfully.

“But how did you two…”

“I don’t know. She just locked eyes on me and ran right around my ankles. Right into the trailer before I could stop her and headed straight to my room. I flipped, of course, because of Gloriana but then she hopped up on my bed and did that kneading thing they do? With their nails?”

“The–” Eddie imitates it on her shoulder, his thicker fingers with his blunt nails no match for Cat’s talons. Lacy’s inclined to tell him to keep doing it, though.

“Yeah. Sniffing around. And I just watched her in the doorway. I didn't know what to do, so I tried to shoo her. But she didn’t give a shit. She just curled up in my– my tartan scarf and fell asleep. Like it was her place all along.”

The corners of his mouth press downward, an expression that makes her heart lurch. 

“She didn’t wanna leave, huh? She wanted to stay with you.”

“She did. She did. Shit.”

—

“Times of strife call for special privileges.”

“Oh, Christ, the fine china.” 

The Garfield mug filled with two thumbs of Bev’s finest fell-off-the-truck well whiskey and three cigarettes later, a slack-limbed Lacy rubs her face against Eddie’s shoulder. 

Any other day, any other planet, that’d be cause for some considerable pants action but… it’s difficult. To see her like this. All shocked and scraped out. 

“You want to hear a stupid conclusion I came to the other day?” Lacy says steewpid with empty-stomach drinking vitriol. “Just the other day.”

“You know I love stupid,” Eddie polishes off the last of his drink from his I Heart Nabraska (real spelling error) mug and pours them both another. “Hit me. Just not in the groin.”

“I didn’t understand what unconditional love meant before this goddamn cat.”

It checks out, Eddie thinks. Her parents and their affection with strings attached. Her old friends, worshiping a facade. No one really saw Lace at her worst and loved her anyway. At least, not until– 

“No shit?” He blames his roughed up voice on the liquor. 

“Mm. I expected nothing of her. Every time she left I thought, well, that’ll be it. I expected nothing. And I loved her all the same. Unconditional. No strings, no compromise.”

“No pretending.”

“No bullshit. Ride or die.”

“‘til the bloody end,” he raises his mug to cheers her, and Lacy winces. Eddie’s face crumples, apologetic. “Yeowch. Okay. I’m sorry.’

“No, it’s– I'm just pissed her little face got messed up so bad,” she sniffs. He gazes down at her and wants to poke the pudge of cheek that’s wedged against his shoulder. “I was gonna taxidermy her one day.”

“Really?” Eddie's voice comes out a little pitchy.

Lacy hops immediately on the defensive. “Yeah.” 

There’s a lot of bizarro stuff Eddie can get down with, but the whole uncanny valley of the animals thing always weirded him out. “You were gonna stuff the cat? Give it, like marble eyes and shit?”

Lacy, on the other hand, sits up straight.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. We were going to grow old together, and either I was going to taxidermy her or she was going to eat my body when I died.”

The glassy eyes and indignation are additions to a long list of things that make Eddie feel a gold rush of serious affection for this girl. “Oh, honeybear, you are so creepy.”

“Well, everyone says that about cats!” Lacy yelps, wedging another cigarette between her lips. She rubs at her eyes too, the red rims looking stingy and painful now. “That if they’re left alone with a corpse, it’s like an all-you-can-eat, seconds at the breakfast bar type of deal. And everyone gets so goddamn squeamish about it too, I mean, come on, I'd rather she eat me than starve.”

“Warped. Digressive,” Eddie says, his mouth curling up.

“Spare me your five-cent words, I'm pragmatic.”

“You’d let your cat treat you like a church cookout and you’re calling that pragmatism?”

“Of course I would. She's my girl.” She flinches, head shaking. “Was.”

“Is,” Eddie insists. “You know, whole cat-eating-your-face thing… That’s basically a sacrifice to Bastet. Totally transcends mortality.”

She sinks back into the couch and instinctive motion has him throwing his arm up so she can tuck underneath it. 

“Know what I called her?”

“This’ll be good.”

“Cat.”

“This’ll be bad.”

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s, you fucking neophyte. ‘If I could find a real life place that made me feel like Tiffany’s, I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name’. Holly Golightly in that bare apartment.”

“I spy a parallel being drawn here, sweetheart.”

“Well, good fucking eye. No… um, I think I finally got what she meant when I moved into…” She gestures, hard, with her cigarette toward the door. Toward her own trailer across the way from the Munson’s abode. 

“Mm.” Eddie shifts in his seat. It kind of bugs him sometimes, the idea that she might still look down her nose at the trailer park despite having adapted to it pretty fucking fluidly. Comes with being a chameleon, he guesses, but he wonders if there’s not part of her that’s still wrinkling her nose. “Not exactly the picture of refinement, yeah, yeah.”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. She’s as close to undone as he’s ever seen her, her mascara caked and flaking under her eyes and her hair all a rumpled mess. Only time he’s ever seen her as close to the edge before this was the last night she’d stormed this trailer. “I don’t know if I've really found my Tiffany's. Maybe this is it.’

“Double-wide with a busted water heater? Should we also check for a gas leak, Doevski? You’re mental.”

“You’re being obtuse,” she says, suddenly pointed like a dart. A flash of his regular serving of Lace. “The Tiffany’s in question isn’t honest-to-god Tiffany’s–she says it's the quiet, the proud look about it. That’s what calms her down when she’s got the mean reds. And I…”

Eddie can feel that he’s wearing that infuriatingly bemused expression he tends to slide on when Lacy is mid-reveal of a profound thought. He can tell by the way she’s starting to glare at him. 

“Shut up. Listen. I– I think about it like this. It's 6AM. The sun’s just cracking the sky. It’s quiet, you can barely hear the birds. There’s a hundred identical units across this lot, each one of them housing different lives. Carl in the management shack. Nita in the home hair salon. Granny Ecker and Ron. Everyone interconnected. Everyone… everyone looking out for each other, a little.”

Right. She’d mentioned how Nita and Max and them had rallied around her and poor Cat.

Still, Eddie can’t help a bad thing. He flips his hand in a flourish, gesturing to himself.

“Presenting the great exception.” For all this inter-connectedness she spoke, of, wasn’t nobody looking out for little old–

“Shut up, Eddie. You know half this park has your back by writ of being related to Wayne, you’re just too much of a contrarian woe-is-me to see it. And you’re a pain in the ass on top of that.”

He stifles an argument she would win with a pinched lemon sour face. “Noted. Go on.”

“Anyway,” she exasperatedly huffs, passing him the remaining half of her cigarette, “I sit… on my porch and I have my coffee. And I have my little cat. And I know you’re across the way, probably asleep. It's quiet. And there’s pride in that quiet. In that quiet, I've felt more at peace than I have my whole stupid flimsy life. I can't explain why. I'm a cynic, we know this. But it might be fucking… Tiffany's.”

Eddie’s fingers drum against the crown of Lacy’s head as he considers this. Framing this as some kind of surprise utopia. This skidmark on the outer edge of town. Except, she’d said it in a fashion that made him want to set an alarm for six in the morning.

“Buy some furniture and give the cat a name. Shit.” 

“Shit.”

He finishes the last of the cigarette she’d passed to him and takes another sip of shitty, awful, rotgut whiskey.

“... we can find another cat, y’know,” he mutters tentatively, resting his chin on her head. “I’m kind of a–” Don’t you fucking say pussy magnet. Eddie. Don’t. “--a feline whisperer.”

But he’s got grounds, unfortunately. The feral cats around the lot take to following him around like he’s a bigger, hairier feral cat. This might have something to do with him carrying loose salami in his pockets as a younger man. That reputation never really goes away among the feral cat colonies. 

“Those mean and scary strays,” Lacy mumbles into his chest. 

“Not so mean and scary. Just used to having their boundaries up, is all. Can relate.”

“Can relate.”

“I could unscary one for you. There’s this one little dude, one eye, three and a half legs, I call him Snake Plissken and he–”

“Oh, Eddie,” she sighs; it makes his heart ka-chunk, “There is no other cat. There’s just Cat. She was perfect.”

“Well, she had hefty goddamn standards to meet if she made this much of an impression on you.” Eddie’s mouth twinges. “I’m real, real sorry, Lace.”

“I need to bury her.” The finality with which Lacy breathes it out makes them both sag further into the couch.

But Eddie doesn’t show a lick of hesitation.

“So let’s bury her. You got a spot?”

—

They pull up at Lover’s Lake. 

Cat lies in Lacy’s lap, slowly stiffening and losing warmth. Lacy’s fingers stay crooked in the little space under her chin that she would tilt up, up, up for her to tickle. It makes her queasy to think about it too much, and to think about it too little makes her cry. She straddles the line between sick and sad and Eddie plays the radio real low in the truck. Some sad sack station. ‘Don’t Forget Me’, Harry Nilsson. Pathetic fallacy eeks out of the speakers, not used to playing anything this low and slow.  

Lacy directs Eddie into the underbrush as they edge off Holland.

“Right over here.”

“This is a nice spot. Not too public.”

“The water. She’d like to see it.”

“The water… for your cat.”

“You know they can swim? Cats can swim. Everybody thinks they hate water, but they can swim.”

She notices that he doesn’t quite swallow that scoff in time and mutters, “Yeah, and they probably hate every second of swimming.”

“But they can do it.” She's driving a point home. It’s about subverting expectations. Stupid.

“Yeah! Yeah, they can swim,” Eddie says, half-way humoring her as he helps her out of the van with Cat, “and if you ask them, they hate every second of it."

“Stop being pedantic.”

“Stop trying to have something to say about everything!” 

They both blink at the slight blow of Eddie’s exasperation. Everything feels a little weird and wired and raw right now. He pulls a shovel out of the back of the van, huffing through his nose.

“You’ll rue the day I don’t have something to say about everything,” Lacy winds up, indignant and stepping to him with that poor little thing cradled against her. Her eyes narrow and his index finger floats in her face. She can’t quite place where this is bubbling from, and nor can he.

“You’re staying overnight with me, okay?!” Eddie snaps. He means business. He’s got the finger out. 

“Huh?” It comes out her mouth a garbled little protest.

“You’re not going home alone. There. Not tonight.” All he’s missing is a patented and that’s final! Flashes of a night spent curled against him attack Lacy’s frontal lobe. 

Yes, is her immediate reaction. She wants that. That warmth he’s thrusting toward her, that security. That comfort. But, one problem. 

“Wayne.”

“Wayne’s not back ‘til morning and also, who gives a good goddamn shit?” Eddie froths. “I don’t. My room, my mildew, my rules. Okay?”

She feels shaky in this, his insistence to tug the safety blanket around her. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

His shoulders sag. He nudges his sneaker against the hilt of the shovel. It’s very quiet out here, save for the crickets and the sounds of their heartbeats in their ears. 

“Look at us,” Eddie smirks, his mouth twisting for facetiousness, “Fuckin’... Shitkicker Gothic out here. Let’s get this cat burial on the road.”

Lacy nods with a heavy head and starts into the underbrush. Eddie matches her step for step. They end up in a secluded spot deeper into the wooded area. Nature’s bay window looks out onto glittering Lover’s Lake. And if you look right up, the trees open up to a tiny patch of sky. Smattering of stars. Just enough for Cat. 

“I don’t mean to be disgusting, Lace, but I really hope you’re not burying Cat at a hotspot for fingerbanging.”

Ambiance shattered. Almost. Lacy glares at him.

“No. People begin to exhibit signs of wigging-outery the closer they get to that weird house on the bank, so they never get past second base here. This is… a perfect boundary for her.”

“Ah,” Eddie nods, his chin resting on the shovel handle. “One paw in the world of lakeside makeouts and the other in the land of the working class criminal.” At Lacy’s puzzled head shake, he gestures to that dilapidated looking house across the way. “S’uh, Reefer Rick’s place. Really clean marker of the social divide you got here.”

“A fault line,” Lacy says. Yeah. That feels good.

“With a lovely view.” Eddie jerks his head toward the flat rocks at the water’s edge and sinks the shovel into the soft soil. “Go sit with her.”

Lacy does. Cat wrapped in her stiffness, her head hidden in the tartan shroud. Lacy’s heart aches, that she’ll never get to run her pinkie finger down the perfect slant of her tiny nose again. Not without feeling blood matted against the fur. It’s not fair. None of it. It was so close to real, this thing they had. 

What's wrong with her that the bottom keeps falling out of good things like this? 

“Is this your first?” Eddie gently calls over the soft shoveling of soil.

“Cat?”

“Death.”

Lacy doesn’t have to think on it. Any relatives other than her mom’s estranged sister were dead before she was cognizant of what it all meant. Her father didn't have any family to speak of. Not even a foster sibling or two he was still in contact with.

“Yes.” A beat. “Is this your first?”

“Death?” Eddie grimly parrots.

“Grave.”

“Why, yes.”

“Hopefully your last." She's arch.

“Ah, with your blessed presence in my life, Miss Doevski,” he says, “something tells me it won’t be.” 

She smiles into her shoulder, down at Cat, across the water.

“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.”

There is no being ready. There is no way to easily unplug from the faux-reality of holding something once soft now rigid, the netherealm of not knowing whether your beloved is coming or going. Up, down, left, right. sideways. Maybe Lacy ought to toss Cat in the water and see if she’ll swim. 

She joins Eddie at the neat little grave he’s dug and is hesitant. 

Throat closing. Head pounding. Stomach tightening.

Shit. Fuck. 

Nerves or bile or both rise and she can feel every nerve ending in her hands. 

A clear of a throat that isn’t hers.

“May I?” Eddie’s holding his hands out. He takes Cat. Lacy watches his ringed fingers gently taper through the tuft of her furry side. Glistening blue-black in the moonlight. He might’ve mouthed the words, ‘Aw, soft,’ but she can’t be sure. 

“Well, Cat,” and she can tell a classic Munson missive is about to kick off. Lacy knits her fingers together as if in prayer and looks down at her feet. Tries not to look at Eddie, with his insistent arms and undefeatable presence, cradling Cat. “It sucks that I never got to know you, but I understand you had some kind of third-wave, kill-all-men feminism thing going on which, practically I'm shit-scared of and conceptually I guess I respect.” He clears his throat again. “But I know that you were… loved, even if your presence wasn’t a whole to-do. I mean, damn.”

Eddie bends his head nearer Cat’s, affecting a stage whisper that makes Lacy roll her eyes. Affection. Affection. Affection.

“You lucked out, Cat. You picked a really good one here. I know it. She likes to play the shit that matters, the nice shit she does, close to the vest instead of showing off about it, but… ‘Deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised’. Aragorn. By the way.”

“Nerd.”

“Please shut up, I am not finished, you are being rude,” Eddie pokes in this clipped tone Lacy knows is supposed to be an impression of her. He drops it as soon as picks it up, everything about him softening.  “She was lucky to have you, but you were luckier having had her.”

Oh. The breath shakes in her lungs. Oh. 

A moment or two passes before Lacy realizes she’s been frozen. It’s time.

“You wanna–” Eddie softly suggests, “Or should I–”

“Oh, wait!” Her collar. Lacy’s nails unpick the leather strap, sliding it away from Cat’s throat. Eddie catches the shimmer of the diamante heart and shakes his head. 

“Farewell, the fanciest cat Forest Hills has ever seen.”

With gentle and careful hands, Eddie lowers Cat into the dirt. Lacy might choke if she tries to speak, but then he catches her trembling, nerve-raw hand in hers. 

“'I don’t like love as a command. As a search,'” it slips out of Lacy in a murmur, “'It must come to you, like a hungry cat at the door.'”

Eddie’s brow furrows, waiting for her to cite…

“Bukowski. By the way.”

“Nerd.” 

Lacy sprinkles the first fistful of dirt over Cat’s prone, resting body. It really seems like that, in the dark bed of soil. Cool, restful. And in the heavy swathe of this night too. 

Eddie only lets her hand go to cover the rest of the grave. 

Once he’s done, he twists the shovel in the dirt. “You wanna mark it or anything? So you can come back?”

“I don’t know,” Lacy says. Is there a way to address the gap she feels between her and the resting place? Probably not yet. “Don’t know that it’ll really do anything for me.’

“You’ll know where to find her, though. If you need.”

“Oh, yeah. you don’t forget a spot like this.”

Eddie slings his arm over her hunched and shivering shoulders, shaking against a chill that doesn’t exist. He leans into the crown of her head–not quite a kiss, but an utterance. 

“Gracefully done, Lace. She’d be proud.”

God, she hopes so. 

Silly little cat. 

They follow their track back to Eddie's van, arm in arm, the two-person funeral match plus one shovel. From up the embankment, a light flickers on. Some heavily obscured figure seems to wobble in silhouette, like it’s waving. 

Eddie slides off a two-finger salute to the spectre. 

“Friend of yours?” Lacy squints.

“That’s Rick. If you’re lucky, I’ll never have to introduce the two of you.”

Eddie helps Lacy into the passenger seat. She sits there, arms feeling weighted and empty. 

“Eddie.” His name crackles in her mouth.

“No, no. Don’t mention i–”

“You were the only person I wanted to see. After it happened. You were the only one. I couldn’t call you at Hellfire or anything. I wouldn’t have wanted you to leave, but you… I just wanted to see you.” 

Something about that statement makes her feel incredibly lonesome. 

Until he takes her hand. Swallows hard and kisses it gentle. 

“That is… an honor I don’t rightly deserve, Lace.”

“Bullshit.”

“Let’s not make, like, a whole thing of it.” Eddie inches out this pained smile that Lacy needs desperately to wipe off his face, somehow. To replace it with something that doesn’t look like it’s pinching him. He has to know. “I’m glad I could be here. For you. For Cat.”

“Me too, Eddie.”

[bijouxcarys]

Honey Bee / Part Two (2)

Click here for Part 1

Click here for my Fanfic Library

Pairing: Robert Plant x fem!reader x Jimmy Page x original female character

Summary: You've been on the road with Led Zeppelin for over two months now, acting as Robert's convenient little companion. It's now the final night of the tour, and tension has been rising. With the addition of Jimmy's new pretty young thing, you find yourself in a situation that just might take the cake for the best night of your life...

Warnings: NSFW (18+ only) Exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), more drug and alcohol use

Word count: 3,331

**I am now taking fic requests. Info in my pinned post!**

Tags: @firethatgrewsolow @brownskinsugarplum76 @keepcalmandcarryfire @callmethehunter @jimmypage7 @whothefuckisanja @jimmys-zeppelin @m-faithfull @lemongrablothbrok (Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in further fics)

If someone had told me that on the last night of the tour, Lila and I would be on our knees in front of the sofa where Robert Plant and Jimmy Page were seated, with a room full of people able to see us and a camera recording the moment for eternity, I would have thought they were joking.

Robert must have noticed my slight bewilderment as he and Jimmy relieved the pressure in their trousers, their arousal standing to attention. His hungry eyes softened briefly as he leaned forward and pecked a soft kiss to my lips.

“You sure you’re alright doing this, luv? We can disappear if you’d like,” he said quietly against my lips so that only I could hear him.

With a breathy laugh, I shook my head. “Nah, I love this. Just wasn’t expecting it to happen.” I smirked, lifting my gaze to look into his gorgeous blue eyes.

He gave me a satisfied grin and another heated kiss before sitting back against the sofa. “You are one naughty little minx, Y/N…”

His praise made me giggle enthusiastically, my hands holding onto his thighs. “Only for you, my Golden God,” I purred up at him.

“Here y’are, you two,” Peter appeared behind us, passing two shots of vodka to Lila and I. Without hesitation, we downed them, but not without a small droplet spilling out the side of Lila’s mouth and running down her chin.

I glanced at the two rock gods before us, and made the move to close in on Lila. Starting at her neck, I lapped up the spilt vodka. When I got to her lips, we shared a dazed expression. Her eyes were dilated, and I have no doubt mine were too. And before anyone had a chance to encourage us to close the gap, we did it ourselves, our plump lips connecting in a sloppy and passionate kiss.

The music that had been playing all night faded into the background and meshed with the whistles and drunken cheering. We tasted the vodka on each other’s tongues, as well as the desire to satisfy the men in front of us. This was a good start.

I heard satisfied murmurs, both from the men before us and the men around us. It was rather invigorating. 

“Nothin’ better than watching two beauties worship each other, right, Perce?”

“Mhmm…” 

Once I’d pulled away from Lila, my eyes shifted directly to Robert, his legs as open as they could go within the limited stretch of his jeans, and his erection stood proudly against his bare stomach. Two months was enough to get used to his size, but it never failed to make me weak at the knees as though I had never seen it before.

“You gunna give our stars a congratulatory blowy, you two?” Peter jeered behind us with nothing but encouragement. I chuckled under my breath, knowing he and his camera were watching everything Lila and I were doing.

I didn’t need much encouragement to have Robert’s cock in my mouth within seconds.

Glancing to the side, I could see that Lila made herself busy also with Jimmy, and before we knew it, we were both in the throes of pleasing our Gods.

The salty taste of skin delicately gliding along my tongue drew a small moan from my mouth, and my hand wrapped around his base, my head lowering by the second to try and take as much of him inside of my mouth as I could. 

Hollowing out my cheeks, Robert’s fingers threaded through my hair, holding it back into a makeshift ponytail so he could watch as I wrapped my lips securely around him. I dragged my tongue along the underside of his cock, applying pressure in the right places, along the prominent veins, and circling his hot tip.

Had we been alone, Robert would have been making all sorts of noises, but I imagine the very public way we were doing this kept some of those noises at bay. After all, we were only doing it to appease the camera, and our own debauched mind.

I glanced up at Robert, my lips suctioning around his tip. His eyebrows narrowed and he bit harshly onto his lips as his hips intuitively jerked upwards. Before long, his head fell backwards against the sofa, eyes closing as he enjoyed the steady pace I set. My goal wasn’t to make him come. At least not yet.

The whole scene was completely sordid. Two groupies being filmed on their knees in front of Robert Plant and Jimmy Page, high on cocaine and drunk with lust and whiskey. People around them cheering them on whilst going about their own drunken evening. Couldn’t get away with it these days.

I bobbed my head up and down along Robert’s shaft, trying to take more of him each time I lowered my head, and my efforts were rewarded by a satisfied hum.

But then my head was completely pulled off of him and my lips were soon smashed against his. His hands were gripping onto my hair and his mouth was hot with want.

“There’s no way I’m coming in front of all these people, and so early on into the night,” he breathed. He turned his head to Jimmy, who was making small thrusts up into Lila’s mouth, with his hand holding tightly onto the back of her head. “Oi, Pagey,” Robert nudged him. Jimmy opened his eyes, looking at Robert and I. 

With one swift nod of Robert’s head in the direction of the elevators, Jimmy nodded, an unspoken agreement coming to light by the second. The two of them shoved themselves back into their trousers, gave Peter an innocent smile, and stood up from their seats. Robert offered his hand to help me up. 

“Have a good night, you two–enjoy!” Peter laughed, the camera following us as we left the room, Robert right up behind me with his ever-growing bulge pressing into my lower back.

“So, does this have anything to do with where you two disappeared to tonight?” I asked Robert once the four of us were in the lift. Robert cornered me, his hands resting on the railing around the walls of the confined space to completely block me in. He lowered his head and peppered kisses along my cheek, to my nose, and then to my lips.

“Such a curious little thing… That’s why I picked you, darlin’,” he chuckled.

Jimmy had Lila in his arms, her back to him as he mumbled into her ear. Soon, Robert's lips were on my ear, and he was mumbling to me as the lift started ascending to the sixth floor.

“We were just wondering, my sweet, if you and Lila would be up for a bit of fun. To finish off the tour with a bang, y’know?” He smirked, nuzzling his nose into my hair and inhaling deeply as his arms wrapped around me tightly.

I couldn’t stop my own devious smile, reaching up to hold onto his biceps. I grazed my lips along his lower neck, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’ll do anything for you, Robert.”

I felt his chest vibrate as he hummed in approval, “Yeah?”

Nodding, I moved my head back to look up at him. “You deserve something after that show. And besides… it wouldn’t kill to be able to say I’ve had two rockstars, would it?”

Robert’s eyes darkened, and his grip on my waist tightened. “Well, no it wouldn’t. But let’s get one thing clear, darlin’,” he leaned down to whisper into my ear with a somewhat stern tone, “nobody else gets to sample your sweet nectar while you’re with me. It’s all mine…”

Something about the possession in his voice and his words, despite being fully married with kids an ocean away, was comforting. His unwillingness to let Jimmy fuck me was delicious all in itself. A lion must mark his territory, after all.

“We’ll still have fun, of course,” he continued. “But there’s no way I’m letting Pagey feel all of you the way I do.”

I gently brushed Robert’s hair from his face, studying his expression as anticipation flickered across his features. “I have a feeling that the Golden God is particularly insatiable tonight,” I remarked, my voice low and suggestive.

He chuckled in response. “A bit difficult when it’s you, luv.”

Before we could delve any further into our playful exchange, Jimmy’s voice cut through our reverie, snapping us out of our trance. He had his arm securely around Lila, who likely had received a similar teasing lecture from him as Robert had given me, as he exited the elevator.

I shot Robert a coquettish smirk, taking his hand as I led the way out of the lift.

An hour later, after a few more drinks and lines, we settled into the evening’s main event. It was clear that the two mischievous rockstars had been discussing this moment for some time, and they had finally found a suitable fourth member in Lila to join us.

Nestled within the confines of Robert and I’s room, the Golden God had me pinned against the wall, his fervent hips pressing into me as his lips claimed mine with a raw, consuming hunger. In the swirling haze of intoxicating substances and the pulsating heat of our shared desire, I surrendered to the night’s relentless embrace, the world beyond our immediate sphere fading into a distant murmur.

Amidst the swirling chaos, fleeting glimpses revealed Jimmy and Lila in the background, entangled in their own passionate dance upon the bed, their laughter merging with the symphony of our own unbridled ecstasy.

With my fingers entwined in Robert’s tousled locks, I exhaled into the kiss, the weight of my ankles locking around his waist in an insatiable quest for heightened sensation. I arched my hips, seeking any semblance of friction, to which he responded with a mischievous chuckle that mingled with the warmth of our breaths. Our tongues danced in a final intoxicating swirl before he broke away from the wall, his muscles rippling with controlled strength as he effortlessly carried me to the bed.

With a primal grace, he lowered me onto my back just above where our two companions lay entwined, Lila already on her way to being completely undressed. Robert, keeping his eyes locked on me, threw off his shirt and quickly got rid of his jeans before pulling me into a seated position.

“Time to see that beautiful body, baby,” he teased with a low rumble, tugging at the bottom of my top.

My skin prickled with goosebumps, the air in the room cooling in comparison to the heat spreading across my entire body. “Robert…” I whimpered as he lowered his head to kiss along my exposed chest.

“So desperate, darlin’,” he chuckled. “Shall we check in with our companions?” he asked with a smirk, but not waiting for an answer. He looked up at Jimmy and Lila. “My Y/N is so wanton, Pagey.”

The heat pooling between my legs intensified as I listened to Robert speak about me as if I weren’t there, and I shared yet another eager look with Lila, who seemed to match up to my desperation.

Jimmy’s eyes diverted down to my chest, his eyes eagerly taking in the sight before him. “Jesus, we’ve done well,” he breathed out, not bothering to respond to Robert.

Something I had very quickly learned about Jimmy Page was how insistent he was. Sure, he could joke around, engage in banter as well as the next man, but as soon as he set his eyes on something, once he had a very distinct idea in his head, he was going to have it. Take it, if necessary. 

And Jimmy craved Lila and I. 

The bare skin of my thighs burned against the feeling of Robert’s, my legs enclosing the singer between them. But my eyes were locked with Jimmy’s, and before I knew it, his hand was clasping the back of my head, and his lips were smashed against mine.

He growled lowly against my lips, and pushed me back until he was hovering over me, Robert still nestled between my legs, and Lila crawling beside me. I felt the fullness of her lips on my jaw, and the wandering fervour of Robert’s hands creeping up to discard my skirt.

Jimmy’s tongue was persistent, prodding at mine and tasting every last bit of what my mouth had to offer. It wasn’t until he pulled away that I noticed Lila’s state of undress. Complete. And I couldn’t stop my gaze from wandering over the curves of her body and the way her bronze skin shimmered in the odd flare of light from the few lamps in the room.

Robert’s form hunched over me, taking up most of the space now as Jimmy leaned over to kiss Lila. “You want to do something special for us, love?” he asked loud enough for the others to hear as well. “Both of you,” he added, looking at Lila.

I bit down hard on my lip as Robert leaned over to steal a kiss from Lila, Jimmy’s hand roaming along my leg hungrily. At this point, I was willing to do anything to serve these two Gods, and to satiate the growing wetness between my legs. I found myself clenching around nothing, needing anything, anyone to fill me up. 

“Would you like to feel how good my Y/N is with her mouth, Lila?” Robert teased. I watched as she audibly gasped, her innocent eyes moving between the three of us, but mostly landing on me. I gave her an encouraging smirk, my eyes never leaving hers as Jimmy completely removed the rest of my clothing, leaving only Robert’s pendant hanging around my neck. 

Robert sent Lila a crooked smirk, gesturing for her to follow him further up the bed. With his back to the headboard, he invited her into his embrace, and she accepted, leaning back against him in her bare form.

“C’mon, love,” Jimmy mumbled in my ear, planting kisses along the expanse of my jaw. Catching his suggestion, I shimmied back onto my knees in front of Lila, lifting my eyes towards Robert, who was watching my every move. Something in his eyes… made my stomach clench. Nothing new, but so welcomed.

I caught my lip between my teeth, crawling forward and reaching over Lila’s shoulder to kiss Robert feverishly. The sigh I let out against his lips turned into a gasp as calloused fingertips traced over my backside, inching closer to my aching core.

“No more wastin’ time, darlin’,” Robert hummed, the backs of his fingers brushing delicately over my cheek. “You make this pretty little girl come, and I’ll make sure you’ll be fully rewarded.”

I nodded obediently at him, much to his pleasure. Not wanting to keep either him or Lila waiting much longer, I licked my lips and lowered my head between the silky flesh of our female companion’s thighs. And as if in sync with the careful yet willful movements of my mouth along Lila’s soaked centre, a calculated tongue dragged along the desperate flutter of my own nectar.

My back immediately arched, Jimmy’s lips quickly performing an unforgivable suction. The moan that grumbled from the back of my throat vibrated along my tongue and caused Lila to throw her head back against Robert’s shoulder.

Jimmy’s calloused fingertips ran up my thighs, and he was soon clinging onto my hips as he devoured me from below.

I flicked my eyes up, watching as Robert’s large hand moved some hair from Lila’s face. His hungry eyes absorbed the sight in front of him, his free hand reaching up to cup Lila’s breast, his fingers teasing over the erect nipple.

What followed was an eager and constant swirl of my tongue on Lila’s clit, coating her entire core with my saliva. I so wanted to make her come. Partially to fulfil my own ego, but mostly to please Robert. I wanted to make Robert proud.

Jimmy, behind me, was taking exactly what he wanted. He seemed to be savouring every drop of my essence. The desperation in his actions came through, and I kept pulsating and fluttering against his hot mouth.

“That feel good, darlin’?” Robert hummed to Lila, giving her nipple a small pinch, her body responding with a twitch. She whined and nodded as I continued my ministrations. “Tell her, then.”

Robert held Lila’s head in my direction, his eyes zeroed in on my mouth pressed flush against her weeping folds.

“P-Please don’t stop, Y/N–fuck, it feels so good!” she panted.

At her request, I gently eased my middle finger into her entrance, the tightness eliciting a moan from my chest.

I found myself starting to roll my hips against Jimmy’s face. But his hands were quick to keep me still as he sucked my clit into his mouth with harsh vigour.

“C’mon, come on her tongue, little one,” I heard Robert coax from above. I picked up the pace with my finger, as well as the slippy circular motion I set around her sensitive bud.

It was when I eased my ring finger inside as well that she contracted around me and her back arched off of the bed. Robert continued to praise her, and I felt myself edge towards my own release.

However, whilst Lila writhed and basked in the release I had given her, Jimmy retreated from me before I could reach my own. I pulled my head up and looked behind me, seeing the guitarist back up and remove the remainder of his clothing.

The rejected orgasm left me whimpering under my breath, and I became hot with want–even more so than I had been the whole night.

Jimmy crooked his finger at Lila, helping her to a seated position so he could easily pull her to the end of the bed. Meanwhile, I looked over at my Golden God wantonly.

“Awh, did Pagey not manage to make you come, honey bee?” he asked softly with a slight pout.

“Oi, you told me not to, you pri–”

“Either way,” he interrupted, sending him a sideways smirk, “it still took way too bloody long to get her to that point, mate.”

Usually, I would have enjoyed their back and forth, but in this particular moment, I just wanted Robert all over me, in me. Really, Jimmy was fantastic at getting me to the edge. Robert knew that. We all knew he was good at that. But you know how men can be when faced with a competitive circumstance.

“Robert…” I called to him, crawling up to meet him where he was sat back against the headboard.

“Shh, darlin’, I’ve got you now.” His attention was immediately back on me for what seemed largely overdue. His hands encased my face and his lips met mine.

Taking the opportunity, I ran my fingers through his golden locks, my tongue rolling into his mouth. The closer I got to straddling him, the more I became aware of the hot tip of his awaiting cock against my skin. The sensation made me press my body up against his, and he was soon guiding me onto my back, his form hovering over me.

“Please…” I whispered against his lips, his hips grinding against mine, giving me a teasing taste of what was to come.

“So desperate, love,” he chuckled. “You know I need to make you come first…”

“I know, but I just…” I breathed out, flustered at the energy circulating in the room and the persistent high taking over both of our bodies. 

“I know… I know you need it so bad, you pretty little thing.” He traced his lips over my neck, pressing hot kisses and sucking intense marks along the expanse of my throat until he got to my chest.

“Need to feel every inch of you, baby…”

[taumont]

My list of books I wish to have read by the end of the year:

Quiet Days in Clichy -- Henry Miller

La petite vertu -- James Hadley Chase

Breakfast of Champions -- Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

Call at Corazon -- Paul Bowles

Solaris -- Stanislaw Lem

Slaughterhouse-Five -- Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

The Savage Detectives -- Roberto Bolano

La Boutique Obscure: 124 Dreams -- Georges Perec

Mon corps pour me guérir: décodage psychobiologique des maladies -- Christian Flèche

A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living -- Joseph Campbell

Speak, Memory -- Vladimir Nabokov

Supreme Influence: Change Your Life with the Power of the Language You Use -- Niurka

The Journey and the Guide: A practical course in Enlightment -- Maitreyabandhu

Egon Schiele: Drawings and Water-colours -- Egon Schiele, Erwin Mitsch

Taking the Leap: Freeing Ourselves from Old Habits and Fears -- Pema Chodron

Rumi Revealed: Selected Poems from the Divan of Shams -- Rassouli

Confessions of an Art Addict -- Peggy Guggenheim

The Executioner's Song -- Norman Mailer

Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead -- Olga Tokarczuk

Flights -- Olga Tokarczuk

America -- Jean Baudrillard

Too Much and Not the Mood: Essays -- Durga Chew-Bose

I Had Nowhere to Go -- Jonas Mekas

Francesca Woodman -- Marco Pierini

Yves Klein -- Hannah Weitmeier

Dune (Dune #1) -- Frank Herbert

Oreillers d'herbes -- Natsume Soseki

Les Choses humaines -- Karine Tuil

The Energy of Slaves: Poems -- Leonard Cohen

Selected Writings - Antonin Artaud

The Sisters Brothers -- Patrick deWitt

Pastoralia -- George Saunders

Signs Preceding the End of the World -- Yuri Herrera

Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley -- Peter Guralnick

Break, Blow, Burn -- Camille Paglia

Voyage au bout de la nuit -- Louis-Ferdinand Céline

Philip K. Dick: In His Own Words -- Philip K. Dick

Autobiography of a Yogi -- Paramahansa Yogananda

A Confederacy of Dunces -- John Kennedy Toole

Babel -- Patti Smith

Keith Haring Journals -- Keith Haring

Foam of the Daze -- Boris Vian

Inherent Vice -- Thomas Pynchon

The Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975 -- Goran Olsso

Le Diable au Corps -- Raymond Radiguet

Bluets -- Maggie Nelson

Girl, Woman, Other -- Bernardine Evaristo

Devenir un ange -- Francesca Woodman

Faithfull: An Autobiography -- Marianne Faithfull

The Master and Margarita -- Mikhail Bulgakov

Eve's Hollywood - Eve Babitz

In Watermelon Sugar -- Richard Brautigan

[sassenashsworld]

Nora VS Silver #01

[In a gateway with her companions] Preston : A Toast for the General! MacCready : Yeah! Sweet kind Nora! Nick : How do you feel, doll, are you alright with all you've been trought? Piper : A hug! Nora : You are all so faithfull friends! I love you all! Did I tell you how my husband have been kill? / Preston : where is the General? Deacon : There, in the shadow Piper : Maybe she need a hug? Silver : Stay put. Don't speak. Don't ask. Nick : No Nora! Put this gun down, right NOW!

[petnews2day]

Dogs For Older Owners: Here are the 10 breeds of dog that make ideal pets for the elderly

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/hed8R

Dogs For Older Owners: Here are the 10 breeds of dog that make ideal pets for the elderly

If you are looking for a puppy, you’re not alone – dog ownership has rocketed in recent years and demand remains at a record high. The every faithfull collie is a regular fixture on many farms, but if you are looking for a smaller companion dog, there are so many to choose from that it […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/hed8R #DogNews

[wakemeupcoffee]

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[parkerbombshell]

From Whispers To Screams: 2002 part 1 // Another Love Song

Thursdays 11:00am-1pm EST bombshellradio.com#indierock #poprock #alternativeRepeats Fridays 3am EST 1 Obstacle 1 - Interpol 2 Another Love Song - Queens of the Stone Age 3 A Fuego - Extremoduro 4 By the Way - Red Hot Chili Peppers 5 Happy With What You Have To Be Happy With - King Crimson 6 Majesty - Madrugada 7 Lonesome Tears - Beck 8 The Sound Of Muzak - Porcupine Tree 9 In The Shadow Of Our Pale Companion - Agalloch 10 Aerials - System Of A Down 11 Do you realize ?? - The Flaming Lips 12 Jesus, Etc. - Wilco 13 Beyond the Pale - Sixteen Horsepower 14 The Man Comes Around - Johnny Cash 15 Up The Bracket - The Libertines 16 Afraid - David Bowie 17 All You Need Is Hate - The Delgados 18 There Goes The Fear - Doves 19 In My Place - Coldplay 20 Days go by - Dirty Vegas 21 Seventeen - Ladytron 22 Sometimes - Hooverphonic 23 Romance - Beth Gibbons & Rustin' Man 24 Untitled 4 - Sigur Rós 25 Song For Nico - Marianne Faithfull 26 Pilot - The Notwist 27 Goodbye - The Coral 28 Black Amour - Barry Adamson       Read the full article

[coline7373]

To my faithfull and loyal tumblr companions (even when I post not-Sterek shit). You people are valid. You make my days. You, my online neighbours who I never talk to but ackowledge nonetheless, for you make up the flavor of my daily reality and enrich it.

And the people who stopped by, just to say hi.

I love you all.

@barlowstreet @theanarik @someofusarequeer @stillbeatingheart @ratman83 @sterekawesomeness @radio-chatter @sizzlingballoonbasement@wolfromate @sterekotp1 @greyhavenisback@wheredidhiseyebrowsgo @coolswearypriest

[oraclekleo]

Jung Yunho (TVXQ) Relationship Role Analysis based on Tarot Reading

Hello and welcome!

I’m Kleo and I’m here to present some k-pop related tarot readings to you.

Disclaimer:

I would like to state that all these readings have a purely entertainment nature and their purpose is to bring some fun into my and hopefully yours lives. I have never ever met any of the idols / actors / celebrities in my readings, I don’t know them personally. Tarot reading isn’t an exact science and I can never guarantee any of it. Most of it is my intuition mixed with fantasy. Don’t take these readings seriously and don’t base any important decisions on tarot readings only, use your common sense.

If you wish to request a tarot reading, please read the pinned post on my profile first to see the instructions on how to request. I only do readings for idols / actors / celebrities of 18 years of age or older. Requests for readings including younger people will be automatically dismissed. If you feel uncomfortable with these tarot readings, do not engage in reading my posts. Thank you for understanding.

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Deck: E. A. Poe

Spread: Relationship Role

Questions:

Friend

Boyfriend

Lover

Husband

One-Night-Stand

Full Name: Jung Yunho

Stage Name: U-Know / Yunho

Group: TVXQ / Tohoshinki / Solo

Jung Yunho

Yunho / U-Know (TVXQ / Tohoshinki / Solo)

Spread: Relationship Role

Deck: Poe

Friend - Ace of Swords, 5 of Swords

Yunho is a loyal, pragmatic and smart friend to have. He’s reliable and always full of ideas and wisdom, he’s highly moral and with a clear vision of how the world should spin around. However, as much as he’s an excellent ally to have your back, he’s a rather fierceful foe. His razor sharp instinct can spot any kind of lie, disguise or manipulation. His friendship is hard to gain and once he judges someone unworthy and expels them, coming back is impossible. Trust once lost is lost forever.

Boyfriend - 6 of Wands, Ace of Pentacles

Yunho might become a rather demanding boyfriend. He’s in the spotlight and that comes with a certain status and reputation. His partner needs to be aware of that. Yunho seeks a mature and representative partner to stay by his side. He will not take any humiliation in public. He’s generous with money and will insist on dating in the most exclusive locations, going for lavish vacations and enjoying the best the life can offer.

Lover - Ace of Wands, 9 of Swords

Yunho might take his time to actually escalate the relationship to the physical level. He probably had some bad experience in the past and it’s still haunting him. He needs to first get to know his lover properly, make sure they can be trusted. Once he’s sure about that, he becomes a very passionate and powerful lover with flaming creativity. He’s inventive and confident, he’s likely an avid kisser, he especially enjoys the deep all consuming kisses escalating into heated make out sessions and further into the night full of passion.

Husband - X The Wheel of Fortune, 3 of Cups

Husband Yunho is the true companion for life. Nothing can sway him, he’s deeply faithfull and will be there for his spouse through thick and thin, in both good and bad till death makes them apart. Marriage is an institution Yunho would find true happiness in. It’s not easy for him to take that step but once he actually finds the partner for life, he will be happy in the marriage.

One-Night-Stand - 6 of Pentacles, Knight of Swords

Yunho is a highly moral person. The mere thought of a one night stand seems shameful to him. He’s likely to judge anyone who would express some sort of sympathies to random affairs. He’s not likely to have a one night stand but if it does happen, it’s likely in some sort of an erratic state, a temporal eclipse of his mind, more likely initiated by the other person. Afterwards he would add the experience to the list of life mistakes and never talk about it again.

Thank you for reading!

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[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

Adopting a dog

Yelena Belova X reader, one shot, angsty in the beginning but cute in the end, Fanny is in this and she's a puppy.

You came up with a desicion, when it was too hard for Yelena to be without you

Yelena shared many 'firsts' with you. Simple things were easy for her. First ice cream, first movie night, first Halloween costume, first vacation, first dress. All this little moments were shaping new emotions and experiences. Were creating a new person.

When you met Yelena she was a blank slate, trying to survive and not be overwhelmed by the real world. But if easy things were giving her joy and excitement, complicated ones were the reasons for confusion and uncertainty.

Emotional path from the first sting of attraction to you living together was full of unknown for Yelena. Her reactions were hard to read, her anxiety hard to defeat.

Unfortunately, lately you had more reasons to worry for her. You were assigned to open an office in another town. And you had to be there a few times a month. You tried to protest, but it was either this or searching for a new place. So you both decided to give it a try.

Of course you were separated before. But since you started living together, you were waiting for her, while she was on the missions and she was never alone in your apartment.

Every single time on the day of your flight she was silent and estranged. Without you she would lay on her bed for hours with her phone, waiting for your call.

Yelena couldn't understand what was going on with her, until one day she just started crying and saying that pain of parting was too much for her to handle and she was missing you so much.

Of course she wasn't blaming you or your job. Yelena knew how ambitious you were, and that was a great opportunity.

So you tried to make it easier for her, for both of you.

"Lena, I'm home. Can you help me?" You tried to sound as calm as possible, while waiting for her in the hallway.

"Sure, what happened..." Yelena abruptly fell silent. You were holding a middle sized bag of some sort, with the cloth over it.

But it wasn't only the bag, it was the noise that was coming out of it. Barely audible breathing.

"Nothing. But I have something for you. Or...ah..." You put the bag on the floor. "Rather someone."

"What is it?" She approached the bag carefully.

"Well, I though a lot about you staying here alone. And we've already talked about this before, so I decided why not to..."

You stood on your knees, gesturing Yelena to do the same. You took her hand and guided her underneath the cloth. There was a tiny window there. As soon as Yelena's hand was almost in the bag itself, she felt something. Cold and moist.

"No way." She muttered and stood up. "Don't tell me you did it."

"Of course I did.'

You asked Yelena to close her eyes and removed the cloth. You opened the bag and she heard a whimper.

"Ok, open now." You ordered as soon as you were ready.

Yelena couldn't believe her eyes. You were holding the cutest puppy she had ever seen. All white, only with it's face being slightly darker. Furry with tiny pointy ears and curled tail. The dog was clearly sleeping in it's carrier and didn't want to interrupt it's rest.

"I want you to meet our new companion." You got on your feet and smiled. "She wasn't given a name yet, cause she's only three months old. Which means you have to give her one."

Yelena didn't move and was just staring at the sleeping puppy.

"Come on. Don't be scared. She won't bite." You let out a laugh. "She doesn't even have teeth yet."

She carefully took the puppy from your hands and felt how warm she was. Yelena couldn't help but smile.

"She's amazing." Finally her eyes lit up.

"We always found a reason not to adopt a dog. But I think now is a perfect timing. You deserve a faithfull companion."

Yelena chuckled as the sleepy puppy licked her hand.

"You think I can handle her?"

"Of course. I'll always help you. And when I'm not around, I will be sure you're protected."

"Oh, yes." Yelena felt the dog making herself comfortable in her arms. "Such a fierce protector. And I know the name - Fanny."

"Well." You scratched behind Fanny's ear. "Than it's settled. We are officially a pack."

[readingoals]

Queenathon II - Bingo

This is one of the two ways to join in the Queenathon readathon! Each of the prompts on this bingo board were inspired by Queen - either the band, their achievements, or their songs. Except for the yellow diagonals which are activities so that you can still make progress on the board even if you aren’t reading! Below the cut I’ll go through each prompt, row by row, and give a more thorough explanation of them. Songs they were inspired by are in brackets beside the prompts.

And remember - books CAN count for multiple prompts! So you may be able to get a bingo with just one or two books!

1. 5 Star Prediction (The Prophet’s Song)

Read a book you predict you’ll enjoy enough to give 5 stars!

2. Friend Rec (You’re My Best Friend/Friends Will Be Friends/Dear Friends) Read a book a friend has recommended or picked out for you.

3. Adapted into a movie or show featuring one of the BoRhap cast

Quite possibly the hardest prompt in this readathon. Read a book that was adapted into a movie which features an actor who was also in Bohemian Rhapsody, the Freddie Mercury Biopic.

Suggestions: Rami Malek: Breaking Dawn - Stephanie Meyer, a James Bond novel - Ian Flemming,  Henri Charrière‘s autobiography Papillon, The Story of Doctor Dolittle - Hugh Lofting, The Night At The Museum - Milan Trenc

Ben Hardy: X Men comics, The Woman In White - Wilkie Collins, The Girl Before - J.P. Delaney, The Statistical Probability of Love At First Sight - Jennifer E. Smith, a Mary Shelley biography

Gwilym Lee: Henry V - William Shakespeare, any of the Chief Inspector Barnaby series - Caroline Graham, a Catherine The Great biography

Joe Mazzello: Jurassic Park - Michael Crichton, With the Old Breed: At Peleliu and Okinawa - Eugene Sledge, Helmet for My Pillow - Robert Leckie, Enslaved By Ducks - Bob Tarte, G.I. Joe Comics, Fire In The Hole - Elmore Leonard

Lucy Boynton - Sense And Sensibility - Jane Austen, Murder on the Orient Express - Agatha Christie, Why Didn’t They Ask Evans - Agatha Christie, The IPCRESS File - Len Deighton, a Marianne Faithfull biography, a biography about Joseph Bologne the Chevalier de Saint-Georges

Or try some of the support cast like Allen Leech, Tom Hollander, Aiden Gillen, etc.

4. Flowers on the Cover (Lily of the Valley)

A Lily of the Valley is a type of flower so pick a book with some sort of flower in the cover art.

5. Listen to some Queen songs

The first of the activity prompts and a fairly easy one to do I think. You can listen to a full album or just get a music video or two up on youtube.

6. Bestseller

Queen holds the record for the best selling album in the UK with their 1981 compilation album Greatest Hits and are one of the world’s best selling musical artists. Read a book which is considered a best seller. This could be a book that appears on anything from an official list of best selling works to a list that your local bookstore creates about popular books of the month, whatever works for you.

7. About A Musician or Band

Pretty self-explanatory. Queen is a band, so read a book that somehow includes a band or musician.

8. Featuring a Pet/Animal (Delilah)

Freddie Mercury wrote this song about one of his cats. Read a book with some sort of animal companion or pet.

9. Cosy Reading Night

The second activity prompt. Have a cosy reading night (or day!), whatever that means to you. Maybe it’s just being curled up in comfy PJs, maybe it’s a nice hot bath and a few candles while you read.

10. Seasonal Read (A Winter’s Tale)

Read a book that fits the vibes of the season you’re in. For southern hemisphere folks like me it’ll be spring, and for northern hemisphere folks it’s autumn.

11. LGBT+ Main Character

Freddie Mercury was gay so in honour of that, read a book with a queer character.

12. Multiple Authors (Under Pressure)

Under Pressure was written with and featured David Bowie. Read a book with multiple authors. It could be an anthology or a collection of essays or just a book that was co-written by two people. You could even count a book translated by someone other than the author if you wanted.

13. HOT SPACE LETS GO!

Free Space!

14. Parent Rec (Father To Son)

Read a book that was recommended or picked out for you by a parent, guardian or parental figure of some sort (heck even just someone older than you lmao).

15. Written by a Freddie, Brian, John or Roger

The four members of Queen are Freddie Mercury, Brian May, John Deacon, and Roger Taylor, so read a book by someone who shares any of their names.

16. Been Putting Off (The Miracle)

Everyone has at least one book they picked up fully intending to read and then never got around to and now you just keep not reading it. Maybe it’s large and intimidating, maybe it’s a genre you used to be much more into, maybe you’re just worried you won’t enjoy it as much as you thought you would. Whatever the case, this is your chance to finally, miraculously, get around to it.

17. Complete A Personal Goal

The third activity prompt. Check this off when you’ve completed some sort of goal you set yourself. It could be a goal related to the readathon like getting a bingo or finishing a particular book or reading a certain number of pages. Or, it could be something else entirely - going to the gym or completing a household chore that needs to be done or getting your sketchbook set up for Inktober.

18. Features Fairies, Ogres, Dragons and/or Queens (My Fairy King/Ogre Battle/Dragon Attack/Killer Queen/etc)

Queen have a lot of songs with fantasy creatures or elements. Read a book that features some sort of mythical creature or royalty (they have songs about kings and princes too so they absolutely count).

19. Favourite Genre (Rock It (Prime Jive))

Do you find yourself mostly drawn to romance books? Or maybe scifi is more your thing? Whatever genre you enjoy most (your prime jive...), this is an excuse to pick up another one!

20. Published or Set in 1970s

Queen first formed as a band in 1970 and released their first album in 1973. So read a book that was publish or is set during the 70s.

21. Guilt-Free Activity

The last of our activity prompts. If you really want to go see a movie but feel bad about taking hours off of reading, you can now do it guilt free! Or, conversely, if you’ve got some chores you should be doing but put them off to read a little longer, that also counts. Whatever sort of activity you feel guilty about doing or not doing, this is a free pass.

22. Black and White Cover (White Queen/March of the Black Queen)

The album Queen II featured a bit of a black/white theme which carried into live performances where Freddie and Brian would paint their nails to match their queens. Read a book with black and white on the cover.

23. Digital (Machines (Back To Humans))

Read an ebook or listen to an audiobook. You could read the whole book digitally or you could switch between an ebook and a physical copy, or follow the physical book as you listen to an audiobook. As long as you read at least some of a book in a digital format, it counts.

24. Set In England

Queen is an English band, so read a book set in England.

25. Translation (Teo Torriatte (Let Us Cling Together)/Las Palabras De Amor (The Words of Love))

Both of these songs feature lyrics sung in other languages. So read a book that was originally written in another language!

[therobertfrasergang]

Clockwork Orange letter, signed by Robert Fraser, 1967-68

This item was up for auction at Christie's in 2014. Robert Fraser signed as Strawberry "Bob", which was Keith Richards' nickname for him, apparently due to his penchant for pink suits.

Christie's Description: "A rare signed petition protesting against the selection of David Hemmings over Mick Jagger for the lead role of Alex in A Clockwork Orange, circa 1967-1968, the five line typescript document on black bordered mourning paper addressed to screenwriter Terry Southern, telling him: We, The Undersigned, Do Hereby Protest With Extreme Vehemence As Well As Shattered Illusions (in You) The Preference Of Devid Hemmings Above ***** Mick Jagger ***** In The Role Of Alex In 'The Clockwork Orange, the document signed in black felt pen at the foot by Paul McCartney, George Harrison, John Lennon and Ringo Starr, the four Beatles' signatures above that of Anita Pallenberg, signed as Anita ("the heater") [Pallenberg's signature in ballpoint pen faded] and close to Donald Cammell's signature Don the Drom and his caricature of a camel; fourteen other signatures on the document include: Peter Blake, Jann Blake, Marianne Faithfull, James Fox, Robert Fraser who inscribed a comment HEAR! HEAR! and signed as Strawberry "Bob", David Cammell, Sandy Lieberson and Christian Marquard, 1p. -- 13x7in. (33x17.9cm.)"

Christie's Essay: "According to screenwriter Terry Southern it was photographer Michael Cooper who first interested him in Anthony Burgess' futuristic novel A Clockwork Orange. It was also Cooper who was behind the petition in this lot. Southern said ...Michael turned me onto 'A Clockwork Orange' and so I took an option on the book and was going to write a screenplay. Then David Hemmings came out with 'Blow Up' and the agency said "We'll package this thing with David Hemmings because he's hot". Michael [Cooper] just freaked out and said "Mick Jagger has got to play this part". He drew up a letter edged in black which said: "We the undersigned hereby insist that Mick Jagger play the part". It was signed by all the Beatles, Marianne Faithfull and Robert Fraser...

Terry Southern's screenplay adaptation of Burgess' novel was rejected by the British Board of Film Censors in May 1967, the board declared that: ..any film of this script would not be shown in Britain.. It was at this point that Paramount, the studio backing Southern pulled out, and Southern gave the book to Kubrick who just put [the book] to one side and forgot about it for a year and a half....

Andrew Loog Oldham, the Rolling Stones' manager in the mid-sixties, was also keen to make a film of Burgess' book with the Stones playing the violent quartet led by the hero Alex, who was to be played by Mick Jagger. In his book The Stanley Kubrick Companion, author James Howard records that at one point, Andy Warhol and David Bailey co-owned the screen rights to the book [presumably Warhol and Bailey's interest in it post-dated that of Paramount and Southern], and had wanted to use the Rolling Stones.... a project which folded when the group reportedly 'demanded exhorbitant fees' and the rights were subsequently allowed to lapse. Stanley Kubrick, who had been given a copy of the book by Terry Southern during the filming of 2001: A Space Odyssey in 1967, eventually took the project on, but was put off by...the reputation of decadence that Jagger already carried...and opted instead for Malcolm McDowell whose dynamic acting debut in Lindsay Anderson's 1968 film If... had impressed him.

The inclusion of so many names on this petition also associated with the film Performance suggest that its date is closer to 1968 when work first began on the film. Donald Cammell directed Performance with Nicolas Roeg and is also credited as the screenwriter. James Fox played one of the leading roles - Chas Devlin, and Anita Pallenberg played Pherber. Sandy Lieberson is credited as the film's producer. A number of those who have signed the document are also linked with another momentous artistic production of the late 1960s, The Beatles album Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band released in 1967. The Beatles' and Stones' mutual friend, art gallery owner Robert Fraser signed the petition, as did Peter Blake, designer of the ground-breaking Sgt. Pepper album cover, who was introduced to Epstein and EMI by Fraser. Photographer Michael Cooper, who apparently devised the petition, also shot the Sgt. Pepper album cover."

Terry Southern, Michael Cooper, and many of the other signers were good friends of Fraser.

[bijouxcarys]

Honey Bee / Part One (1)

Pairing: Robert Plant x fem!reader x Jimmy Page x original female character

Summary: You've been on the road with Led Zeppelin for over two months now, acting as Robert's convenient little companion. It's now the final night of the tour, and tension has been rising. With the addition of Jimmy's new pretty young thing, you find yourself in a situation that just might take the cake for best night of your life...

Warnings: Heavy drug and alcohol use, a bit of heavy petting, slight objectification, degradation kink if you squint really hard, voyeurism

Word count: 2,756

***I've decided to split this into multiple parts since it would be really long if not, and I wanted to post something. Also, keep in mind that I have quite literally NEVER written Robert or Jimmy before. This is my first time, so go easy on me. I'm used to writing Brian May, who is very different lol***

Tags: @firethatgrewsolow @brownskinsugarplum76 @keepcalmandcarryfire @the-may-queer @callmethehunter @jimmypage7 @whothefuckisanja @laysidel-dekie @jimmys-zeppelin @m-faithfull @lemongrablothbrok @willem-dafuq @ri0thouse

He just looked so good.

But so did he.

And so did she.

Maybe it was the coke, well and truly infiltrating my system by this point. Or maybe it was a result of my third whiskey. I didn’t care. All she knew was that I’d never been this high, in multiple senses of the word, as I was that performance at Madison Square Garden back in 1973.

Apparently, they rarely, if ever, brought along a girl from a different country to another. And I held onto that feeling. Knowing that Robert Plant saw something in me that was worth bringing along over an ocean was enough to convince me that I had made the right decision to drop everything at home and take off with Led Zeppelin at the height of their success.

Honestly, I was well accustomed to the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle by this point. I’d had one or two encounters with smaller bands that toured within the UK by the time I was 17. But Zeppelin was a whole other ball game. An entirely different planet. 

I didn’t care that this would one day end and that I’d go back to my dead job at a record shop. It couldn’t be too bad, right? I mean, if I hadn’t accepted that job in the first place, I would have never had the honour of being on this tour with the world’s greatest band at all.

Never underestimate a rockstar’s tendency to visit downtown music shops.

Robert and I had connected somewhat over our mutual interest in the blues. I slacked off my shift to take him to our storage space, just to let him rifle through the records we’d recently received. One thing led to another and I ended up accepting an open invitation to join him on tour.

19 and on the road with Led bloody Zeppelin.

It was their third and final night in New York, which also marked the last show of the tour. There was a subtle sense of anticipation that built throughout the whole tour, and it materialised progressively through the partying; the drinking, the drugs… the sex.

Everything seemed to get more and more intense every night. And, God, did that night take the win by a fleeting mile.

The fact that they had camera crews filming each move that night seemed to trigger something… feral… in the lads’ performance. I never got tired of watching Robert gyrate during Whole Lotta Love. The energy was potent. Like an intoxicating pheromone.

Usually by this point of the show, Robert would have already taken me somewhere backstage to get his fix–of both me and whatever he could get his hands on–during Moby Dick. But this time, I’d been given nothing but a small kiss and a cheeky smirk before he disappeared with Jimmy.

This left Lila and I dumbfounded.

Lila was a young girl who’d recently turned 18, and we met her the first night we were in New York. As per usual, she’d finessed her way backstage and caught Jimmy’s wandering gaze.

The air crackled with energy as Robert and Jimmy returned, wearing matching mischievous grins towards the end of Bonzo's solo. It was a sight suspicious even for those two.

I couldn't resist teasing Robert, smirking as I asked, "What are you up to?"

His dimple deepened, adding to his already endearing charm, even with a missing tooth. His hand caressed my head, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I have no clue what you're talking about, darlin'," he purred, leaning in closer. "Just a bit of light conversation."

"Light conversation?" I chuckled, playfully tugging him closer by his belt. "Why would you need that?"

"Don't you worry, sweet girl," he replied, shrouding his words in mystery. This deviation from Robert's usual character intrigued me, but before I could dwell on it, his lips were on mine, trapping me between his body and the wall.

As he pulled back, his lips brushing my nose, I noticed Jimmy and Lila in a similar position down the corridor.

Robert mumbled, "Don't look at them, darlin'," using his finger to redirect my gaze back to his face. His touch grazed my lower lip, gently tugging it down. "You'll have plenty of time to look at them later."

Before I could question his cryptic words, he winked and withdrew, exchanging a knowing smile with Jimmy before they headed back onstage.

The incident lingered at the edge of my consciousness for the rest of the show, and I sensed that Lila was in the same perplexed state. We exchanged subtle, intense looks, an unspoken desire to ask each other what was happening, yet neither of us dared to voice it.

But in the end, I just wanted the show to finish so Robert could drag me wherever he wanted and do whatever he wanted to me. Watching him, those jeans clinging to him, the stage lights casting a shimmer over his exposed upper half, and his hair flawlessly bouncing with each thrust and jive, had me squeezing my thighs together from the side of the stage.

Being with the boys since the beginning of the tour gave me time to warm up to Jimmy as well as get to know Robert a little more. Jimmy was never on my radar of attraction, but something about the way he carried himself became more and more alluring. Ominous, almost.

Day by day, I became more and more interested in him.

That’s why, by the end of the last show, I didn’t know who to look at. Robert, Jimmy, and even Lila. It was like I’d just taken a hot oestrogen bath with Eros and Aphrodite. 

If there was one thing I knew as clear as day, it was that I wanted them. All of them.

And that’s exactly what I ended up getting.

Within an hour, the customary Zeppelin afterparty was in full swing, taking over the entire ground floor of The Drake and spilling onto multiple floors, transforming the hotel into their own personal playground. The trademark mayhem ensued, marked by bleary-eyed revellers and a steady flow of alcohol that left nostrils white and throats raw from the endless libations.

The air was heavy with the scent of cigarette smoke and spilled liquor, punctuated by the echoing laughter and slurred conversational cheering of everyone in attendance. The room seemed to sway slightly, the dim hotel lighting dancing off the walls in a hazy, dreamlike aura. Amidst the chaos, I found myself settled on Robert’s lap on a worn, plush sofa, my limbs weightless.

Robert’s features softened under the influence, and he wore a lopsided grin as he leaned back against the cushions, hands sliding up my legs, one on each side of his hips. His eyes, glazed and partially unfocused, held a distant, dreamy look as he gazed out at the revelry around us. I traced my fingertips along the collar of his blouse, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath the silky fabric.

Beside us, Jimmy and Lila were enveloped in their own intimate world. She exuded an irresistible allure as her dark, cascading hair spilled over the arm of the sofa. Her head, delicately poised on the cushiony surface, seemed to radiate nothing but pure admiration for the guitarist looming over her.

Draped over Jimmy’s lap, her supple body was a study in effortless grace, her bronzed skin glowing in the soft, amber light. Her slender, bare legs extended languorously along the expanse of the sofa. The subtle arch of her foot, adorned with a pair of sleek, platform heels, found a resting place on my thigh, the faint pressure a tangible reminder of her presence. One glance, and you could see right up her flowy mini skirt.

“What are you so smiley about?” I asked Robert with a hum, eyelids hooding as I made the cautious decision to shift my hips against his. The steady grip he had on the backs of my knees rose to the bare space between my knee-high socks and corduroy skirt, fingers gripping onto the flesh of my thighs.

“Hmm… you keep lookin’,” he remarked, his gaze momentarily flickering to Lila’s legs before returning to meet my eyes.

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, feeling my cheeks flush with warmth. “No, I don’t,” I protested weakly, attempting to convince him that I wasn’t doing anything of the sort.

His hands gently framed my face, drawing me down closer to him. “No, no, darlin’, you do,” he insisted, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “And that’s okay!” he added, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “In fact, it’s rather preferable.”

He kept his eyes trained on me as one hand guided my head to turn in the direction of Jimmy and Lila. “She is gorgeous, isn’t she, love?” Robert hummed into my ear. Before I could answer, his free hand slid under my skirt, his long fingers teasing my underwear. My breath hitched in my throat, managing to feast my eyes on Lila’s legs freely.

With a bite of my lips, I found myself grinding into Robert’s hand. We both watched with intent as Jimmy’s hand lowered to find comfort under Lila’s skirt. Her girlish giggle cut through the air, making Jimmy chuckle and shift his gaze down to where his hand was.

He caught our eyes, sending us a smirk, his eyes glazed over and face somewhat flushed. Lila was none the wiser as we observed the guitarist’s petting.

That was when Peter decided it would be a good idea to document the completion of yet another successful tour. Successful if you forget the money that had been nicked the day before, but this was a nice respite from that unfortunate incident.

A rather large video camera nestled on his shoulder, Peter sidled over to us, letting out a rambunctious cheer.

“Ayy! Percy and Pagey enjoying the victorious ending to a triumphant tour!” His speech was erratic, loud, and jumbled. But then again, so was everyone��s.

Lila craned her head back to peer up at Peter and his camera, giggling yet again.

“Nothin’ better than a couple of beautiful birds after a show, eh?” He came closer, switching the focus from me and Robert, to Jimmy and Lila, and then back again. “Look at these two cunts stealing away all the totty.”

“It’s the charisma,” Robert chimed, sending a swift middle finger to the camera. 

“Is that so?” Jimmy jested from the side, earning a smack on the arm from Robert.

“Don’t be shy, doll, give us a smile!” Peter put the camera right by my face, where I confidently and playfully stuck out my tongue. “Ooh, she likes to put on a bit of a show, Perce.” 

I barely registered that Robert's fingers had found their way inside my underwear, massaging diligently at my soaked arousal, but a gentle prod of his middle finger against my clit caused me to jump a little and a small squeak to fall from my lips. Robert let out a boastful laugh, his free hand pushing some of his hair out of his face.

“Ey, I’m not the one kicking my legs about so everyone can see my pants,” I retaliated in the haze of cocaine, pointing in Lila’s direction.

“Not like you haven’t been enjoying the view, Y/N,” Lila purred, lifting a leg up enthusiastically. 

“Ayyyy!” Peter cheered, angling the camera just enough to catch Lila’s actions for the brief moment that she did it. “I’m gonna do my rounds, make sure I get everyone, and I’ll be back here in a few.”

I grinned down at Robert as Peter left, looking down at his hand between us. 

“I’m not an expert, but something tells me that you quite like the prying eyes of others, darlin’,” Robert said, keeping up with the movements of his fingers.

“Hmm, and what if I do?” I prodded, tilting my head to the side.

I didn’t get a response, only a hand in my hair and a swift pull downwards, my lips crashing against Robert’s wantonly. I basked in the feeling, my hips grinding down yet again as his tongue rolled expertly into my mouth. 

Letting out a moan against his lips, I felt a light stroke on my leg that wasn’t from Robert. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Jimmy’s extended arm, his hand resting around Lila’s ankle and his fingers resting just above my socks. Smirking against Robert’s lips, I held onto his shoulders, deepening our kiss.

“D’ya want some more, darlin’?” Robert murmured, reaching down to retrieve the clear plastic bag from his pocket, the same one he had revealed earlier that night.

My response was a whispered, “Yes, accompanied by a mischievous smile.

He gently guided me off his lap, positioning me on the floor between him and the coffee table. With my back to him, I watched as he leaned over to empty the remaining contents of the bag onto the hand mirror that laid on the table, drawing the attention of those around us.

“Lila?” Robert called, turning his attention to the almond-eyed beauty. Her gaze met his, and her eyes lit up in response to his gesture, followed by a nod of acknowledgement. It didn’t take long for Lila to settle in beside me, with Jimmy sitting upright behind her.

“There you go, my sweet little honey bee,” Robert hummed into my ear, his lips pressing a tender kiss to the side of my neck. 

Lila’s delicate fingers trailed over the powdered surface, deftly rearranging the lines into perfect, symmetrical rows. She glanced up at me with a secretive smile, her dark eyes glinting with a shared understanding. The faint scent of her perfume, a delicate blend of jasmine and musk, mingled with the heady aroma of the night.

With the two rockstars sitting protectively behind us, Lila and I leaned forward, each of us inhaling two lines with practised ease. A subtle thrill coursed through me as my back arched instinctively, responding to the tantalising touch of Robert’s hand settling on my hip, his thumb daring to explore closer to where desire truly lingered.

“We’ve certainly struck gold, haven’t we, Perce?” Jimmy’s voice drifted over, undoubtedly revelling in the captivating sight before him.

As Lila and I continued with our indulgence, the sounds of cheering and hollering filled the air around us, the realisation dawning upon us that we indeed had an audience.

And I relished every moment of it.

Still bent over, I looked over my shoulder, catching Jimmy’s lingering gaze. Our eyes met for a moment, and we sent each other a suggestive smirk before I pulled myself up to lean back against Robert.

“Did you enjoy that, darlin’?” he asked with a knowing grin as I raised my arms behind me to rest them on his shoulders. His fingers trailed up my sides, his touch igniting a fire under the thin material of my skin-tight, long-sleeved top. “You think you could do me the honour and let me have some, too?” he asked again with a playful flare.

“Mhm,” I nodded with a hazy smile. But just as I was about to move out of his way, he stopped me.

“No. Stay,” he gently commanded. Smiling smugly down at my confused face, he grabbed a spoon from the table and scooped up some of the white powder, bringing it closer to me. “Head all the way back, sweetheart.” With a deep breath, I leaned backwards, finding myself half-laying across one of Robert’s thighs. “That’s a good girl…”

I gnawed my lip as I felt the cold edge of the spoon under my neck and across my exposed skin. It was difficult to stay in this pose, especially with Lila's hand on my leg. I was beginning to feel the effects of the fervent stares of the crowd, followed by Peter Grant's roaring laughter.

My eyes fluttered shut as Robert lowered his head and inhaled the cocaine straight off of my skin. He dragged his tongue along the residual powder, accompanying his actions with heated, open-mouthed kisses which he swiftly punctuated with a kiss to my lips.

Boisterous cheering and clapping erupted as Jimmy repeated the action on Lila, the intimacy of the moment intoxicating the four of us. With Robert’s hand on my neck, he continued to kiss me in front of the whole room.

“You ready to put on a proper show for the camera, sweetheart?”

[nordleuchten]

24 Days of La Fayette - Day 21

This one is a little bit out of the ordinary :-)

From Georges Washington de La Fayette to George Washington

[on board the Clio in Ramsgate harbour

December 21irst 1797.]

Sir

You will I have no doubt be surprized, to receive a letter from me dated from an English port, and I myself little expected to have wrote to you, from this place, we have had a very long and disagreable passage. In the Ocean we had a contrary wind, for twenty days together which at last carried us to the north of the scilly Islands. we had then to sail back again round them to enter the channel. after entering it we were driven by hard winds together with the carelesness of our captain, upon the shoals on the coast of France, a great way beyond Havre-de grace and at last after having seen the shores of our own country, we have been obliged to take a shelter in Ramsgate on English port in the downs, where we are since the 16th waiting for the first fair wind, to sail again for Havre de grace. as Frenchmen we are not permitted to go a shore, but we don’t regret it much as this is not the place of our destination.

but that which keeps up most our spirits and courage is to know that our hopes are realized, and that my family and their companions in misfortune are certainly free, we can have now no doubt about it since the gentleman who is so kind as to take charge of this letter, captain Harris has seen them all at Hamburg. they had arrived there in the beginning of October and from what I understood of him, they live upon danish territory untill the restoration of their health. the hope of meeting soon again with them is very gratifying to my feelings, and as I know the interest which you always had the kindness to take in what concerns my father I hasten to communicate to you those news. I will not renew my expressions of gratitude nor my thanks, hoping that you are well convinced of my sentiments for you, but I will pray you to be so obliging as to present our respects to Mrs Washington, to remember us very particularly to Miss Eleanor, Washington, and your family. Mr Frestel joins with me in all the sentiments of which this letter is the faithfull expression. captain Harris who sails to morrow morning for Norfolk has promised that if he went through Alexandria, as he intends to do, he would carry himself this letter.

permit me sir to bid you farewell till I get to France when I shall take the liberty to trouble you with another letter. Mr Blackburn the only american caracter in this place has been exceedingly obliging for me, and has rendered us several services. I have the honor to be sir with the utmost respect your most obedient servant

G. W. motier Lafayett