#John Bonham fan fiction

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Restaurant WIP

OK, I give up. This is something I posted in the last 2 years, but for the life of me, I can’t find the post. I’m pasting it in here. It’s a little bit in which young Zeppelin end up at a soul food restaurant, due to discrimination they have faced for looking like hippies. This is a super small bit early in where I was trying to go, but I wanted Robert to meet a young African American woman who was a lot more inhibited than him, and the interplay of race and the rigid rules/respectability politics for Black women and kind of forced monolithic culture for African Americans at that point in time. Their contrasts and how they open each other’s minds about the positives and negatives about their worlds.

I kind of want to revisit this setting and vibe for the zepprompts, but we’ll see.

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

“Right, let's try this one,” Cole said as the group gathered on the curb. “Fucking narrow-minded Midwestern buggers,” he muttered. 

“It's just hair,” Robert huffed, sweeping his burgeoning mane out of his eyes. “It's not the end of bloody civilization.”

“But it's a sign of our depraved desires to kidnap all the farmers’ daughters, obviously,” said Jimmy with a derisive chuckle.

“But that is your goal, innit?” Robert teased. 

“We should be fine,” said Jonesy, ignoring the banter. “No one's going to be that uptight here.”

“That's because they know how it feels…” Robert mused. 

“All I know is my stomach has been growling since three restaurants ago,” Bonzo said while trying to read the menu, which was taped inside the window. He sighed in frustration because the faded mimeograph sheet was no help at all, but he was optimistic when he contemplated the large number of clientele inside. “Let's give it a go,” he said, pushing the door open. 

They filed inside, their presence announced by the jingling bell that hung from the door frame. The boisterous crowd of brown faces abruptly fell silent. Most of the patrons assessed the group with curiosity and eventually went back to eating, but a few of them glared. The band were foreigners here, would've still been foreigners even if they were American instead of British. 

Robert and Jonesy smiled as they looked around. Bonzo picked up a menu from the cashier counter and commented on the savory aroma in the air. Jimmy stood aside for Cole to speak with the woman who was approaching to seat them. 

“Welcome, gentlemen,” she said with a disarming smile. “I'm Hattie. Five of y'all today?” 

“That's right. And thank you for letting us stay, Miss Hattie,” Cole said with uncharacteristic humility. “We've been shown the door at several other places around here. No longhairs allowed, they all said.”

“Well, I can tell you that's not how we operate here. Everyone is welcome. Isn't that right, Ray?” She glared at a graying man who was dressed in a worn striped suit. He looked to be in his fifties and was one of the diners with guarded expressions. 

Ray, who had not taken his eyes off of the group, turned back to his food without a comment.

“Follow me,” Hattie said, deftly weaving through the sea of tables and chairs that were haphazardly spaced on the white linoleum floor. The group followed. Bonzo paid close attention to the diners’ entrees as he passed, already closing in on his menu choice.

#Robert plant #jimmy page #john paul jones #john bonham #led zeppelin #fan fiction #fan fic #wip #my writing

[ineffablesuffering]

Any one got that photo of Robert Plant dressed as a flower???? Need it for scientific research

#classic rock fandom #led zeppelin fan fiction #led zep #led zeppelin #led zeppelin fanfiction #robert plant #imagine robert plant #robert plant fanfic #classic rock #rock and roll #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page #john paul jones #john bonham

[ritacaroline]

Bonz Fan Fiction  Ch. 15

Record Shop Madness

Laurie awoke at the nature cottage at about 8:30am. She looked at John asleep peacefully beside her and decided to get a hot shower while he slept. She accomplished that

quietly, then lay back down next to him. He looked so innocent and irresistible laying there with his gorgeous fluffy head of hair partially covering his face. His lovely eyelashes were so long and thick, his lips were perfect, just pink and full and delicious looking. She was hoping for a taste of those once he woke up. But, settled for just gazing at him during this moment of quiet. She dozed off for another hour maybe, against him, since he radiated such warmth. The comfort of laying right against his warm body, knowing the kindness he had inside him, gave Laurie so much comfort and security. She had been lulled by his presence into the additional slumber.

During the delightful rest, as she gently awoke, she felt the sensation of something, someone maybe, warm and soft against her mouth. Her eyes started to flutter open, and she realized immediately it was John Henry, kissing her lips with the softest touch imaginable. Barely touching her, his delicious mouth was just enjoying the beauty and the velvety feel of her wonderful lips. Which he just adored. He whispered to her, “I didn’t mean to wake you, my beauty. I just craved your luscious lips with a need so strong, I couldn’t keep away. I had no choice but to give in and have myself a little taste and feel of them. And I assure you, they didn’t disappoint. I hope you aren’t annoyed, my love. “ 

“Annoyed ?” she asked. “How could I ever be annoyed by feeling kisses the moment I wake, from the most gorgeous sexy man I’ve ever seen ?”  His mouth turned into a glorious grin as the sweet compliment absorbed into his imagination. He wasn’t used to being treated so lovingly, so adoringly by any woman. He wasn’t used to  being so appreciated, as a man, before. He was tingling with feelings of love. No one had every loved him the way Laurie did, and Lord above, did it ever suit him well. “My angel, I can’t even find words to tell you how fantastic you make me feel. And I haven’t felt this good my entire life with anyone, till I found you, darling.” And he surrounded her in his arms and showered her neck and face with the most delicious loving wet kisses a woman could ever want. He had his muscular arms around her shoulders and her back, his big hands held her smaller frame tightly against himself. And the smell of him, first thing in the morning was insanely attractive to Laurie. It was a nice smell, a tiny bit of musk scent in there. He just smelled like a man, is all. And it was an incredible scent as far as Laurie was concerned. Just the natural scent of a manly man.Her attraction for him was through the roof, any time of the day. 

After a morning of kissing and caressing each other and sweet words of love, finally they were dressed and ready for a day together at the cottage retreat. It was earthy and relaxed, and beautiful scenery of an untouched nature surrounded them there. First, they headed down an unpaved dirt path to the main cottage. Once arrived, they were greeted by two kind women and one man, running a glorious breakfast service there, for the guests. Laurie and John were treated like old friends by the group, and were  served with such friendliness and warmth, they felt they must come back soon again, on a future get away. First served orange juice and champagne breakfast cocktails, piping hot robust coffee, then an unbelievable plate of hot scrambled eggs with bacon and homemade hot cakes with warmed syrup. And homemade jams to top it off. After they finished, they had to rest awhile, in order to digest. So they sat in the sun outside on the porch, in some comfortable cushiony rocking chairs for awhile. Just talking and sipping cold lemonade and laughing softly. Once their energy returned, they were guided toward some old fashioned row boats, on the dock at the lake. The day was fresh, not hot. The lake sparkled like crystal, as he helped her into the boat, using two hands to hold hers. Next, he stepped in and  detached the rope from the holds on the dock, and grabbed the oars. “Just relax my love, I’m going to row us to an unbelievable area I visited once, when I was here before. It was for a creative writing expedition with the group.”

He began to row, and Laurie observed the muscles in his shoulders, arms and chest tightening and relaxing as he did. Rippling, right through his shirt. Whew. Someone needs to get me a fan, she thought. His body was spectacular, in her view. He was a sight.  He pointed out various trees and points of interest to her, as she smiled and remained quiet. The delicate flowering beauty surrounding them was like paradise. She felt like it was a delicious dream. It was Springtime now, and the views of the newly blooming spring flowers were a beauty to behold. John rowed them first through the main part of the lake, then, made a few sharp turns, at openings in the woods, which weren’t obvious to the eye. They were hidden entrances through the thick foliage, which he knew from his earlier visit here. The mystery and the intensity of the surroundings increased, the deeper they ventured into the wilderness. She was in awe that a place so unknown was located only a half hour or so into the countryside from their home.  The stream they floated upon now, was lined by flowering pinks trees. Upon which many loose petals had descended atop the water. It was incredible.

The intensity of the color astounded her. The site of it brought a few tears to her eyes, she was so overwhelmed by the beauty, and also that she had the man she loved beside her. And he was the one who had brought her here to experience this, and to entertain her. Finally they arrived to the destination he had in mind. It was an open meadow, deep inside the greenery, with a steep tall rock at the bank of the water. There, was an easy convenient mark, to which to tie the boat and oars off securely to dock. John took off

 his shoes and stepped barefoot into the cool shallow water. He held his two manly arms out to Laur, which she happily gripped on to. He helped her off the vessel, preventing her from receiving even one drop of water on her at all. Such an incredible, caring gentleman. He wasn’t trying, or striving to impress her, with sticking to manners. This came naturally to him. Growing up, loving his mom and sister, always watching out for their safety and happiness. This was a given practice in his world, not a luxury.  Once his love was securely on land, he reached in the boat for the cooler and the blankets, and they scouted forward for a place to get comfortable. For Laurie, this day and weekend was shaping into one of the most enjoyable and exciting outings of which she’d ever taken part.

Next Ch.(16)   https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/post/185024262286/bonz-fan-fiction-ch16 

@starchild0985  @adonna1964  

#Bonz fan fiction Bonzo fan fiction John Henry Bonham fan fiction Led Zeppelin

[melisa-may-taylor72]

ROGER TAYLOR: THE QUEEN'S SOLOIST- PELO MAGAZINE-  JULY, 1981

As a group, QUEEN has accomplished almost everything that a rock band can dream: big international tours always crowned by success, exploration and conquest of new territories, several albums number one in sales, double live album, conceptual album, soundtrack of a film. And now they will complete one of the few missing achievements:  A solo album. The first to set foot in these waters was Roger Taylor, the drummer.

Although Roger Taylor began his musical career as a teenager, when he wanted to become the best drummer in the world, he soon realized that it was going to be difficult for him to reach those heights, and changed his goal for that of knowing success through Queen. However, the years passed, there were fewer challenges to accept, and then now the thoughtful and coherent Taylor decided to make "Fun In Space", his first solo album (which promises to be a blast), revolving around the subject of science fiction, which has always fascinated him. Two years ago he started working on this project, in Queen's studios in Montreux, Switzerland, gathering all the material and all the ideas that did not fit within the musical spectrum of the band, but obviously, were going to serve him in this work outside the band.

FUN IN SPACE

When he began to think about this project, Taylor had doubts about whether or not his bandmates would accept his need to make a solo album, and whether or not they would like the result. Today, after the album's initial success, everyone seems to be happy with Taylor and his work; even he himself, plans to start with another solo album as soon as the recording of Queen's next work, in this month, is finished.

Taylor composed, played and arranged his entire disco-galactic experience. "Fun In Space" reflects, from beginning to end, all of Taylor's fascination with the cosmic and the ethereal, which he skillfully mixes with rock. Technically, it's an impressive achievement, but overall the album gives the impression of being, seen as a whole, a toy of a rich man who has nothing else to do 😠😠😠😠😠. It lacks a little feeling, is lyrically lazy, androids abound. On the inside of the cover, Taylor says: "I like it. If you don't like it, I'm sorry." 😛There are really nice parts, like the acoustic introduction to "My Country" or the riffs to "Let's Get Crazy", but, again, something is missing. There's no doubt about Taylor's talent, which is perfectly appreciated within Queen, and there's no doubt that most of the band's fans will like this album either. But,... But maybe Taylor's opinions are better than the critics. (They sure are!!!)😏😏😏😏

INFINITE HORIZONS

-Is there a particular reason why you chose this subject as the core of your first solo album?

Yes, I've always liked the spatial, the cosmic, I've always been attracted to it, ever since I was a kid. I have tons of books on the subject at home. Graphically and imaginatively, it's a very strong subject, with infinite horizons. In this field there is everything to invent, to say, to create, and we have to take advantage of it while we are on time. Another reason why I chose a spatial topic is that I wanted to start from something totally distant and different from Queen, to make the thing varied.

-What did the others say about the finished album?

Well, when I announced them that I was going to do a solo album, Freddie was the first to react, and he said: "From now on I tell you that if it's a piece of crap I'll tell you without any consideration". But finally everyone liked it, I even think they like it a lot more than I expected. I don't think they have any reason to be upset that I want to diversify a bit, because they have to know that just because I make a solo album doesn't mean that I want to separate myself from Queen or that I'm not happy with the work with the band. Sometimes you just want to do something different.

Did you ever think of doing a solo tour playing your album live?

No, not at all, it wouldn't make the slightest sense. This album was, for me, a bit like an exercise, a way to show people that drummers can do other things besides drumming.

Do you think this album could be a consequence of feeling frustrated for not being the main figure of the band?

I don't know, I haven't thought about it... Yeah, I guess there must be some of that, to some extent. But I feel good and satisfied with my role within the band. My professional life is totally dedicated to Queen. This album I made it, more than anything, to give it a bit of free rein to my personality, to liberate me a little in an non-group aspect. There seems to be a kind of tendency for drummers to make solo albums nowadays: Phill Collins has just made one, Nick Mason, from Pink Floyd, is bringing out his...

What do you think of yourself as a drummer?

When I started playing I wanted to be the best drummer in the world, but when I heard John Bonham and Buddy Rich, I realized that this aspiration didn't make the slightest sense on my part. I don't think I can expect so much from my technical skills. Besides, I don't like drum solos anymore; I think the era of the drummer's shining in rock is over and over a long time ago.

But then what is your professional goal? To be a well-known drummer and nothing else?

No. What happens is that the story of pretending to be an excellent drummer no longer attracts me. I'm part of a band; no more, no less. That's it, and that's enough for me. For me, the most important thing is not to get the first place in the world as a drummer, but to reach to people. That's what I'm most interested in right now, and that's what I'm trying to achieve.

THE FUTURE SOLOIST

Do you think being a great drummer and reaching out to people are opposites?

Not opposite, but different. I don't criticize those who are great drummers, they are exceptional musicians. There are very few drummers who reached a truly excellent level, and they did it because they gave the drumming a new and extraordinary dimension. John Bonham was the greatest rock drummer of all time. And, of course, so was Keith Moon.

Do you think the success of your album is or will be due to, basic and mainly, the fact that you are a member of Queen, or do you think your own name will also sell too?

It's very likely that there going to be a certain number of albums sold because I did it, Roger Taylor, Queen member, or not. I think the name weighs in either case. But you have to remember that the individual parts of a band are not equal to the unit, to the total result. However, I think there will be a lot of people who will buy the album itself, because they like it, regardless of my name and the band I belong to. In general, people don't just buy records; they buy what they want.

Do you plan to continue making solo albums in the future?

It's very likely that if I have more ideas, things that interest me and I like, I'll make another solo album. But it's not certain at the moment. Anyway, I want it to be very clear that for me Queen will always occupy the first place.

@natromanxoff, @mephisto92, @moviestorian, @x5vale, @39-brian, @onegoldenglance, @crosmopolitan, @an-abyss-called-life, @his-majesty-king-mercury, @i-live-for-queen, @brian-39-may, @toomuchlove-willkillyou, @brimaymay, @sail-away-sweet-sister, @drummerqueenrmt, @old-fashioned-roger-boy, @briianmaay, @l-over-bo-y, @inui-mycroft, @deacytits, @iminlovewithrogscar, @drowseoftaylor, @brianmayislongaway, @balticlover, @astrophysicist-guitar-god, @miez-lakatz, @brianmayoucease, @jesus-in-a-life-boat, @aslongasthereismusic, @roger-taylors-car, @silapril, @sherrifanciesfriskyfreddie, @tenderbri, @brianmydear, @thosequeenboys, @millionairewaltz-carpediem, @painandpleasure86, @bribrifrenchfry, @xlucylennonx, @a-night-at-the-abbey-road, @inthedayswhenlandswerefew, @madformeddowstaylor, @queenrogertaylorfan, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @queen-for-life, @rethought, @darlinginnuendo, @mymakeupmaybeflaking, @old-but-still-a-child, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @warriorteam1924, @funnydressesweirdhairanddance, @painkiller80, @thefanhuman13, @yourtieddownmother, @hgmercury39, @brimi-stardust, @thefairyfellermercury, @retroromantics, @sailawaysweetbrimi, @sophiaintheskywithdiamonds, @candelataylor, @holybrianmaywritingbear, @lydiannode, @39-yellow-daffodils, @ure-gonna-loveme-when-u-seeme, @kaykaybeachgirl, @sensitivedna921, @rhysjoejoshtomfarisblog @redspecialandclogsandcurls, @briansrainbowsocks, @delilahmay39, @ohmybribri, @bless-the-queen, @infunitehearbeat​

(Original Material)

#Queen #Roger Taylor #Interview #Pelo Magazine #Thank God they never played by the rules of the critics #🎵🎤💖💖 #It's been a while since I published stuff #Hope you enjoy it 😊🤗😉

[rosyfingereddawnn]

Hullo! I love your blog :) Could you do the shipping thing with Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Queen? I'm brownskinned and have black curly hair. I love love love music and play guitar and I draw and read a lot too (fiction and non-fiction, any subject interests me really). I'm a total dork and tend to attack people with random bits of knowledge. I have a quick, dark/raunchy sense of humour. Thank you and congrats on 400 :D

hi dear :) thank you so much ❤️

for queen:

i ship you with john deacon :)

i feel like with the knowledge attacks, he’s all for them!! he loves them so much and always tries to give you some of his own :) he’s got similar humour when he gets into it, and i think it makes for a really fun time :) he absolutely loves your drawings, and always asks if he can frame them cause he’s so proud :)

for led zeppelin:

i ship you with john bonham!!

he absolutely Adores your love of horses and at the height of zep’s fame, he gets you a lovely horse of your choosing of course :) he’s a big partier of course, but he loves the quiet moments where the two of you just hang out, you might even read to him :)

for pink floyd:

i ship you with syd barrett!!

he’s a very sensitive, determined, creative guy, and he’s always your biggest fan. he loves that you play guitar, and your art is his absolute favourite :) you always have fun talking to him about music, and it gets deep and long, but you never get tired of talking about it with him :)

thanks so much darling :)

#syd ships! #400 celebration!! #queen ships #led zeppelin ships #pink floyd ships

[jimmys-tangerine]

IV. Ne pleur pas

22 February 1972, Melbourne, Australia

It didn’t take long for Billy to fall in love with Caroline.  Less than twelve hours, in fact.  And it didn’t make much effort.  When the concert ended, he had seen her slowly drink herself into a strange, sexual obscurity.  Maybe it was her laughing—she would shake with her whole body then ebb inward to return to her catlike nature, her eyes turning down and her lips curving cleverly.  Maybe it was the way she spoke—with unfounded authority and a foreign lilt.  She wasn’t even a coquette or a temptress, she just was an inevitable object of affection.

And Billy wasn’t alone.

Men pulled on her skirt and tried to make her laugh, or tried to make her smile—at least.  They wanted to see the crooked overlap of her bottom two teeth and hear the cascading cackle that entered your body via the ear and somehow wound up tickling your toes.  And the man and the boy and the journalist within Billy fought when Caroline slipped down onto the couch beside the one man who she might actually love back.

He was the one who tucked the champagne pink flower behind her pointed ear, dragging his fingers through the unruly tufts of orange hair that fell from her braid.  And he was also one of the four men in the world Billy would most like to interview.

Jimmy Page wore a pinstripe blazer with patches of beige suede on the lapels.  Beneath his coat he wore a light blue button-up tucked into denim bell-bottoms.  He was quite the fashionable man, Billy noted alongside the comment in his notebook that read: “Page’s signature beard shaven by early morning of 21 February.”

Caroline was reading a book with her head on Jimmy’s shoulder as John Bonham called her name, asking for a treat.  Billy had taken careful observations of her role in the band; she wasn’t entirely a groupie, she seemed more vital to the band’s functions than providing sexual relief.  Billy knew there was an ulterior motive to her stay, aside from Jimmy’s quite obvious infatuation with her.

Billy had sworn he would never publicly shed light on the band’s myriad vices and sinful behavior.  He only watched from afar as Caroline fashioned a straight line of blow between the breasts of a popular groupie Billy couldn’t remember the name of.

Why is she the one who’s always called over for cocaine? Billy asked himself.

“You’re only here because of her, you know,” a voice announced from behind Billy, ripping him out of his scrutiny.  Jimmy Page, dark and brooding as ever, stood just inches from him with a glass of brandy in his pale, ringed hand.

“I know,” Billy assured.  He swallowed loudly—sure his eyes were wide like saucers.  He had questions to ask—questions upon questions upon questions, but he couldn’t find the words within him to ask.  The only thing that could leave his mouth were clipped grunts of simple communication.

“But if you keep watching her so closely, she’ll get rid of you,” Jimmy added as he took a sip from his glass.  Billy admired how Jimmy could handle his liquor so proficiently; Billy couldn’t down a sip of that stuff without a wince.

“What do you mean?”

“Ever been to a big museum?  Where they house a lot of important art—think the Louvre, or the Tate, or the MET?”

Billy hesitated, messily remembering his tour of the Louvre when he visited France as a boy.  “Sure.”

“And when you’re at these places there are necessary sightings.  You know, you have to see the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, The Oxbow, The Death of Socrates, The Water Lily Pond, Weeping Woman, et cetera… Yeah?”

“Sure.”

“But these big pieces… If you sit there staring like a half-wit and leaning in too close to the big pieces, one of the guards will give you a gentle shove backward or tell you to get a move on?”

“Alright.”

“Well, with her,” Jimmy tilted the rim of his glass toward Caroline as she burrowed her head into a pillow while she laughed at something Bonzo had said.  “It’s the same principle.  You sit their staring with a slack jaw and moon-eyes, fervently scribbling notes and sketches, silent and uncanny… Someone’s going to tell you to get a move on.  It might be me, it might be Mister Peter Grant; it will most likely be her, actually.”

“I—”

“You don’t need to excuse yourself or apologize.  I get staring at her—if anyone does, it’s me,” Jimmy followed with a light chuckle.  “But I’m just letting you know.  If you want to stick around, don’t be so obvious.”

Billy nodded quickly, several tufts of his bangs dancing along with the swift shake.

“And Caroline told me you asked her something,” Jimmy looked downward, summoning a memory.  “Ah, that you asked, ‘From where do you believe Led Zeppelin derives their greatest source of inspiration?’”

“I was interested in her answer, as I imagined from a groupie’s point of view it would be—”

“She’s not going to give you the right answer because she’s humble,” Jimmy laughed.  He leaned in several inches closer to Billy, though his eyes were locked upon Caroline.  “I guess I could give you the answer most would give—the standard.  Women, love, sex, homesickness, childhood, death, travel, drugs, power, money… The works.  But perhaps seeing it yourself would make more sense…” Jimmy urged.  His temple nodded in the direction of Caroline; Billy pulled his eyes from the formidable green glance beneath Jimmy’s unkempt bangs.

Caroline stood on a velvet ottoman, with one leg swinging like a pendulum as she tried to balance herself.  She was bent at odd angles, yet it was painfully graceful.  She looked like a constellation.

“Jimmy, let’s pick out this evening’s attire!” She exclaimed from across the room, making eye contact with him.  Jimmy snipped all ties of conversation from him to the journalist and made way for Caroline with a bright smile on his mouth.  Billy understood a bit better.

“Well I’m wearing an ivory dress, Jimmy!”

Jimmy pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked down at Caroline, who sat inside of his opened and emptied suitcase.  “And?”

“We need contrast!  I insist upon the black shirt.”

“Why do we need contrast?”

“Because we’re going as a pair, are we not?  I agreed to attend the press party as your date, now you must follow a few rules.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and balled up the red shirt he had in his hands.  He threw it into the opened closet of his shared hotel room.  Caroline gasped and lunged for it, folding it neatly in her lap and scolding him with a glance and a few words: “I like this shirt.  Why do you like dressing in wrinkled clothes?  Why would you wrinkle this lovely shirt?”

Jimmy rolled his eyes.  “I’ll wear the black shirt with the white pants.”

“Which white pants?” She tested him.

“The flared, taffeta pants.”

“Perfect.”

“Now go put on your dress,” Jimmy said as he pulled Caroline out of the suitcase.  “And I’ll put on my outfit.”

Jimmy was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt when he heard the sound of a body collapsing on the one of two full-size beds in the room.  He turned around to see Caroline tucked into a fetal position on the bed that belonged to him.

“How did you know that one was mine?” Jimmy asked as he shrugged the sleeves of his shirt off of his shoulders and threw the shirt onto the ground.

“I smelled your Pantene shampoo on your pillow,” she said as she tilted her nose into the plushy wall of his pillow.  Jimmy’s thin torso was soon covered by the black shirt Caroline had selected for him.  Once the buttons of his shirt were done, he reached for the buckle of the belt on his jeans.

“Protect your modesty, Jimmy!” Caroline shouted, covering her eyes with her fingers.  Jimmy laughed loudly, throwing his belt to the floor with a silvery clang.  He hadn’t thought of Caroline’s reaction to him changing; with all the women that had seen him entirely naked after his success in the music industry, he didn’t really hold any qualms about nudity.

Caroline peaked out of the gaps between her fingers as Jimmy pulled the jeans off of his long legs.  She was absolutely awed by the completion of his thinness; his legs were nearly toothpicks.  Yet, a masculine definition echoed in every outlined muscle.  Caroline could not look away from the awkward and unconventional beauty of Jimmy’s legs.

He presented himself in his new outfit with an auditory fanfare.  Caroline pealed away her eyes and immediately clapped her hands, excited by Jimmy’s innately chic appearance.  Perhaps it had to do with his narrow form, or with the black-and-white polarity of his raven hair and ivory skin.

As Jimmy picked up his previous outfit from the floor, Caroline caught a glance his chest which was exposed by several undone buttons.  There suddenly seemed to be a very murky serenity in the room—quietness, secrecy, and darkness.  Caroline stretched her arms upward as she stretched in the bed.  The alluring scent of Jimmy—some obscure cologne, fire, and books—was warmer than any blanket.  Caroline grew tired.

After glancing at the old pocket-watch on his bedside table, Jimmy looked at Caroline with words of urgency on his tongue.  But upon seeing her fluttering eyelids and resting lips, he placed the words elsewhere.  And he just stood there, darkly looming like a shadow, memorizing the serenity that laced her every feature.

Had he not been subconsciously leaning and stepping toward the bed, Caroline would not have met his hand when she reached for it.  But she did, and caught onto his palm like a baby would.  Her hand slowly slipped from his tiredly, but he caught it with a hook of his fingers.  He soon formed a tighter grip on her small hand.  And perhaps it was the quietness, the secrecy, or the darkness of the room that made her stealthily tug his hand toward her sleeping form; either way, she was not sure.

She turned with the yank and he soon crashed onto the small bed beside her—feet dangling off the end.  He had been forcibly wound in a ball during his one night in Melbourne, and he wasn’t looking forward to doing it again tonight.  But at that moment he had never been so gracious for a bed so achingly small.  For between the close sides of the bed, Jimmy’s arm caged Caroline’s torso, his knees knocked against hers, his chest served as a pillow to her freckled cheek, and her bare toes climbed into the wide ankle opening of his pants.

Jimmy held in a sigh; he was instantly worried a single breath could fracture the delicacy of the situation.  He had longed for something as little as an embrace from Caroline for an unimaginable length of time, that which only felt extended by the relationship with women he normally assumed.

Impossibly fragile was the green-eyed glance she gave him, though long-lasting.  He would have kissed her if he had not so feared losing the closeness.  Kissed her very slowly too—the way teenagers do after their third date.  Jimmy was at a loss of all power, all will, all capacity; especially was he so vulnerable when she laid her fingers on his jaw and cheek—her touch as light as the landing of a butterfly.  Amusedly her fingers drummed against his cheek lightly—possibly mockingly.

Jimmy had had enough, he thought.  Though this defiance was fronted with a cowardly submissiveness; he could not overrule her.  So he compromised, and very slowly placed a kiss on her soft hairline.  He held his lips against her skin for a while—until she returned his cautious kiss with a peck on the chin then turned away.  His skin burned as she turned her back to him to sleep.

Both Jimmy and Caroline were kicked off of the bed.  Jimmy, the heavier sleeper, merely groaned when his bottom his the floor.  Caroline—on the other hand—instantly lashed out and yelped.

“Dégage!” Caroline shouted from the floor.

“You two are pushing it,” Robert spoke sternly.

“What?” Jimmy asked groggily from the floor.

“You’re lucky it’s me who walked in,” Robert shook his head as he walked toward his wardrobe.  He yanked open the doors and confronted a colorful rack of clothing.  Caroline absent-mindedly noticed how Robert hung up all of his clothes for the two-day stay in Melbourne, while Jimmy kept it all in his suitcases.

“Il est quelle heure?”

“It’s eight,” Robert responded bluntly.  All who traveled with Caroline had picked up a very rudimentary level of French.

“Merde!” Caroline shot up.  She had thirty minutes to get showered, dressed, and have her makeup done.  Before sprinting out of the room, she grabbed Jimmy’s forearm and shook him awake.  “Jimmy, you only have thirty minutes to do your hair!” She exclaimed.

Jimmy instantly stood and ran into the bathroom.  Jimmy’s hair was a delicate issue.

As per usual, Caroline’s bedroom was beside that of Jimmy.  She shared it with several groupies, and they were all crowded around the horizontal mirror hanging above the sink in the bathroom when Caroline walked in.

“Je dois me doucher,” Caroline hurriedly told Margaux, her one roommate that was  also French.  Margaux stayed put—hovering over the sink penciling on a fifth coat of emerald eyeliner.  “Allez-vous en!” She screamed, pointing toward the door.

The bathroom eventually cleared; the women relocated to either Jimmy and Robert’s room or the skinny mirror between the hotel room’s two windows.  As they left, Caroline watched them with a fragmented thought.  They all wore gossamer garb and did their make up lavishly; they were covered in jewels given to them by now-distant men.  Margaux always wore an amulet around her neck that Jimmy had given her for her sixteenth birthday, it was made of alexandrite—a stone as kaleidoscopic as her eyes.  Caroline felt a nudge of jealousy—not toward the necklace, but toward the undeniable glamour of these women.  Caroline wished she exuded opulence as those girls did.

Caroline washed her body and hair quickly so she would have several minutes to melt beneath the boiling water that poured out of the shower head.  She left herself just a few moments to curl in a ball on the floor of the shower, letting the skin of her fingers and feet wrinkle like a prune.

When Caroline got out of the shower, she wrapped her hair in one of the hotel towels and wrapped her body in the lavender towel she always brought with her.  When she stepped out of the bathroom, she shockingly discovered Jimmy sitting at the end of the unmade bed.

“How did you do your hair so quickly?” Caroline asked as she walked across the room.  Jimmy watched her closely as she sparkled with every step.  She was so there, so easy, so taunting—and yet, she could not be touched.

Jimmy cleared his throat in order to speak.  “It was obedient today.”

Caroline chuckled as she slipped on the enormous robe the hotel provided.  Once it was securely wrapped around her, the lavender towel beneath it dropped in a pool around her small feet.  She walked back toward the bathroom with the robe forming a train behind her.  Before opening the door to the bathroom, she stopped and turned to Jimmy.

“Want to blow-dry my hair while I put on my make up?” She asked him with an excited smile.  Jimmy’s eyes widened before he enthusiastically nodded, warming at the idea of being able to hold that red silk in his unworthy hands.

Familiar with a blowdryer, Jimmy set up the appliance as she began applying a sheer layer of foundation to her freckled, olive skin.  Jimmy carefully removed the towel from her hair and grinned at the wet vermillion mess he had exposed.  As he turned on the blowdryer, Caroline handed him her brush.

He worked slowly through her hair, relishing in the soft and flowery scent that flew his way with every blow of hair.  Minutely, he urged forward until his toes barely touched her heels.  He couldn’t tell whether her discreet and minuscule movements backward—toward him—was just her way of getting a better angle of herself in the mirror or was her consciously trying to get closer to him.  Jimmy’s heart buzzed and spun in his ribcage quickly.  When his fingers delicately brushed then stayed on Caroline’s neck—just along the gentle climb of her carotid artery, Jimmy swore she leant into his touch.

Jimmy then realized he’d been too focused on his fragile ministrations to look in the mirror at her.  His eyes met the glass—a natural pinkish blush bloomed on her cheeks and slightly on her neck; her eyes were closed.

Like studying the results of a tricky science experiment, Jimmy slid his fingers downwards ever so slowly.  He watched the small space of chest the robe exposed rise and fall quickly as his fingers moved.  It was truly amazing watching her respond to his touch, and it ignited a furious fire in his every organ… Especially one.  Never before had his pants grown so quickly and so easily tight.

When Jimmy flipped the switch of the blowdryer off, her eyes opened.  And he knew by the look in her wet eyes that he was not alone in this hole-and-corner devotion, this furtive worship, this afire allegiance and heated curiosity.  She looked away into the drain of the sink beneath her before Jimmy could further realize she liked looking at and talking to him as much as he did her; but he caught her nonetheless.

While opening his mouth to speak he decided a better use for his lips.  His head lowered and met the side of her neck; he breathed her ensnaring scent through his nose and only laid his lips upon her delicate skin.  In all the time that Jimmy had known women—the quiet sighs of women, their soft skin, their ripe lips—he had never been so enamored.  And the core of his adoration was not lust but something so much stronger; a tug toward salvation.  Caroline wasn’t a pair of legs to lay between whenever his frustration built or whenever he was drunk and aroused by nearly everything—she was another half to meet and complete.  An unfinished circle.  Something to love and fill and hold and trust and speak to and kiss and cry with.

She suddenly began to rile; she lashed quietly with a cry.  But Jimmy kept her pinned as his hips met the small of her back.  She felt his forearms encircle her waist and his lips ascend to the small, warm space of skin behind her ear.  There his lips met her skin with a kiss.  The sensation of his breath against the shell of her ear caused a first tear to meet the slope of her cheekbone.

It was wrong.  Not only was it forbidden in the context of her job, but seeing her recent decline in health—it was wrong for him.  He had to stop, she knew.  She had to stop, she knew too.  It could not go on.  But his embrace was warmer than anyone’s she had ever encountered, and the rigidness pressed against her tailbone made her insides heat like an oven.

Her fragile hands shakily met the tops of his that lay on her abdomen.  He instantly parted his fingers and pulled hers into a reversed hand-hold.  His mouth hovered over her ear before it dropped onto her cheek, kissing away saline tears.

“Ne pleure pas,” he spoke quietly.  His words only engendered a steady flow of tears; his effort set aflame her heart.  He spoke French for her; he loved her.  She knew he loved her.

Caroline shook—her body racking between a laugh and a sob.

“Ne pleure pas,” he repeated.

“Don’t you dare speak French to me,” she laughed as tears left her eyes.  She looked at him and saw him smile endearingly.  Most of Jimmy’s smiles were top-layer; he found something humorous or joyful and he smiled for it, but beneath it loomed other emotions.  Never was it just a smile.  But this was… just a smile.

Turned around partially now, her fingers left his hand and made delicate sashays up his wrist.  Her short and bare fingernails dipped slightly beneath the hem of his shirt upon which she had so fervently insisted he wear.  And Jimmy—inches above—watched her like he was watching a baby come to understand touch for the first time.  He watched her fingers moved slowly through the screen of her long, wet lashes.

Jimmy bundled up Caroline tighter in his arms, and she laid her head against his chest.  A tear still rolled down his flushed cheek when she looked up at him.  He didn’t think he’d ever seen something so beautiful before in his life.

And neither did she.  So she met his kiss when his head quickly lowered and instantly sunk her fingers into his wild hair.  With one arm still around her back, Caroline felt Jimmy’s other arm wrap around her lower torso.  And it was not slow—it was gripping and warm and wet.

Jimmy tasted like… she didn’t have a word for it.  But he would hold her head straight so her mouth fell open and just kiss her repeatedly, endlessly, lovingly.  Sometimes they were fast, and he’d breathe a hot breath quickly then tilt his head so he met her from another angle.  Sometimes they were slow, and his tongue would meet hers; he’d just dive in so deeply she was sure he’d leave her lips bright and blooming like red carnations in June.

The rest of his body worked against her like a tidal wave meets a spiked rock.  He rocked against her without restraint; she loved it.  He spread her knees with his so her robe fell open and let some of him in; she loved it.  His arms—when available—constantly moved to touch her and move her and hold her against him tightly; she loved it.

“Jimmy!” A feminine and familiar voice erupted from the bedroom.  Caroline instantly repelled, rejected, revolted.  She used the palm of her hand to wipe a smudged tear from her cheek then slammed her hands onto his chest, pushing him away.

“Imbécile!” She yelped and left the bathroom.  She was immediately met with Margaux’s face.

“Pourquoi le garde pour toi?  Tu ne dorme encore pas avec lui!” She whispered harshly at Caroline, who ignored her and slipped around her to snatch up her dress and shoes.

“Caroline!” Jimmy shouted after her.  By the time he tried to get by Margaux, she was gone.

Taking Caroline as a date seemed no longer possible, especially seeing he couldn’t find her prior to being forced to go to the press party.  However when he walked in—disoriented and quiet—he saw her across the floor of dancing people.  Her dewy skin glittered and hands fumbled absentmindedly with the straw of some drink; she wore that little ivory dress and he swore to himself the damned nymph would be in for it.

Caroline refused to look up when she heard the crowd of groupies she was squished between wake up at the sight of the inevitable guests—the band.  She refused to meet his eye, to say his name, to acknowledge his presence.  She had no choice to reject him completely.  Her blood drew a watch around her wrist—she had so little time left.  She could not hurt him.

Meanwhile Jimmy pulled a roadie to the side—a fellow named Tomas—and ordered him to call the hotel they were staying in and rent out another bedroom.  A suite—he preferred.  Only the best for her.

“For what purpose, might I ask, Mr. Page?” Tomas asked before leaving to reach a telephone.

Jimmy looked around the room—at the fluttering groupies that seemed to eat Caroline like a hungry mass.  “There’s quite a lot of ladies here tonight, and I’d not like to share them with Robert… You know?” Tomas smirked and shook his head in the way men do.  He left to ring the hotel.

Caroline was taking the remaining sip of her vodka tonic when she heard: “You’re the loveliest one here.”

She turned her head to see Billy.  He smiled boyishly and held a beer in his hand.  A smile finally nudged at Caroline’s mouth—a shy one, but a smile nonetheless.  “Thank you Billy.”

“How are you?” He asked her.  She looked at him with wide eyes.

“Ask a more interesting question,” she said quietly.  However small and ashamed she felt, she could never fall to boredom.

“Okay,” he laughed awkwardly.  “What are you drinking?”

She smiled, looking into her drink.  “Now that it’s all gone—nothing.  Could you get me another?” She held her empty glass out for him.

Hesitantly, he took it.  “What should I get you?”

She shrugged.  “Surprise me.”

Bewildered by her fantastic ambiguity, he trod proudly toward the bar—glad to be getting a drink for such a pretty lady.  When the bottom of his glass met the table and he opened his mouth to call for the bartender with a virile tone and agenda, he was stopped.

“Get her a French Blonde,” a wonderfully familiar voice spoke lowly.  In spite of how much he wanted to hear this voice normally—he did not want to hear it at this moment.

“Wh—” Billy turned his head to see Jimmy page holding up his hand for the bartender.  The bartender was preparing several mixed drinks prior to seeing Jimmy, but he left them all where they were to attend to Jimmy.

“How can I help you, sir?” The man asked; his teeth were white and shining with his gripping smile.

Jimmy looked at Billy, who raised his eyebrows in confused shock.  “A French Blonde, please,” Billy hastily answered.

“Anything for you, sir?” The bartender looked to Jimmy again, but Jimmy ignored the man and turned to Billy.

“I need you to ask Caroline something for me,” Jimmy leant in, lowering his forehead so his bangs drew curtains over his eyes.

Billy held up the French Blonde as he made his way back to Caroline.  Impressed by his smart taste, she raised her eyebrows approvingly.

“Un choix judicieux,” she said quietly.

Billy cleared his throat, ready to begin asking the questions Jimmy had assigned.  “Caroline, I was wondering…”

“Yes?” She looked up from a long sip of her French Blonde.

“Because you told me to ask a more interesting question,” he clarified.  “Do you love anyone?”

“Sure, I do.”

“And who is worthy of such affection?”

“My mother, my sisters, my father, and my brother.”

“No one else?”

Caroline squinted her eyes analytically.  She briefly glanced upward to see if Jimmy was watching her from some strange angle, but she saw his lovely mane of ebony curls turned against her, where he spoke to several domineering men.  “No.”

“What do you think of all the girls hanging around Zeppelin?  Do they ever annoy you?  Do you like them?”

“I respect other people’s choices because they’re not mine.  They can do what they wish with their time and their bodies.  I’ll do what I wish.”

“Have you made friends with any of them?”

“I’m not very good at making friends.”

“You’re friends with Jimmy, aren’t you?”

She then downed her drink and headed out to the dance floor.  She was drunk enough.  Booming from the massive amplifiers was The Rolling Stones’ Who’s Been Sleeping Here? and Caroline was ready to dance—a hobby she typically didn’t partake in, but something told her to tonight.  So she danced and danced and danced—wrapping herself in the warm crowd of those wild groupies, and pretending that everything in her life would work itself out.

“She hardly answered any of your questions!” Jimmy exclaimed, running an angry hand through a handful of dark curls.

“Well—you know her!  She’s very shifty and… sly!” Billy argued.

“This is true,” Jimmy stopped pacing.  “But you failed, regardless.”

“I’m sorry, Mister Page.  But…” he looked out into the crowd.  She was hard to miss—glittering like the moon in a galaxy of complete darkness.  The Beach Boys now played; she moved like the ocean.  “Listen, why don’t you go ask her yourself?  She’s out there, she’s dancing alone… Go talk to her!  If she really needs to talk to you, she will.  If she won’t, then it’s not time and, therefore, it’s not even worth sending me out there.”

Jimmy’s brandy was on the counter and he was gone.  Billy couldn’t tell whether he regretted his words.

Joni Mitchell played now—Cactus Tree.  Caroline wanted to sit on the floor with her knees to her chest so she could cry furtively.  She missed warmth.  She missed him already.  Though she was soon met by a tender embrace.  An embrace that could part a crowd—which it did.

Jimmy latched an arm around her slender waist.  Her fighting was in vain—not only was he besetting, but as were her feelings.  Jimmy laid his chin upon the top of her head; she pressed her cheek against the opened buttons of his black shirt.

She could feel his heartbeat—in spite of the footsteps and the shouts and the music.  She could hear it like it was her own heart beating.  And she thought—momentarily—about Jimmy.  And how good he was to her, and how he had become her best friend, and how she was slowly slipping into him and she didn’t ever want to leave.  Caroline turned her head and pressed her lips against the concavity between his collarbones.  She kept her mouth there, breathing in the scent of his skin.

“Can you come with me to the hotel?” Jimmy asked once his lips touched her ear through her thick hair.  She did not respond.  So he continued: “Caroline, please.”

With a fast glance, she looked up at him.  Then she looked around them.  Most were distracted with their own controversies and wrongdoings to take notice of the forbidden activity going on between Caroline and Jimmy.  She nodded against his chest and reached for his hand.  Once he developed a steady hold on her, he began to move toward the exit of the press party venue.

Once outside, things were relatively quiet.  Or at least comparatively so—in cities usually everything teemed with some dimension of life at all hours.  But in Sydney, walking away from the clubhouse as two mere figures walking hand in hand, against one another—they were a part of something much quieter.

“J’ai tombé amoureux de toi,” Jimmy tried.

“Je suis tombée amoureuse de toi,” Caroline corrected and admitted—though not to his knowledge.  She took his hand and spun around beneath his arm—until she was standing properly in front of him and walking backwards.  “Mais, I like your attempt.”

“Et tu es ma meilleure amie.”

Caroline stopped and smiled.  “You’re my best friend too.”

Jimmy smiled a whole smile again—where there was nothing else beneath it.

Hand-in-hand, they kept walking along the sidewalk.  Jimmy would try and sneak kisses against her temple and her hairline, and maybe on her neck and lips, but she would inch away and just pull him onward.  Eventually they came across a bar, and Jimmy watched as Caroline tilted her head upward; neon lights illuminated every sharp and gentle curve of her face.  She dragged him into the bar.  Being so late at night, it wasn’t terribly crowded—though there were no seats at the bar.  Caroline had other plans, however, and she dragged Jimmy to one of the shadowy booths in the back before anyone could recognize him.

Jimmy first extended his hands across the table, palms open.  She grasped them hesitantly, smiling once her skin touched his.  She brought his hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles.  The hands provided a place where she was not too deep nor too shallow.  His knuckles were not his lips, though she wasn’t not kissing him.

“Caroline—”

A waiter came over to the darkened booth with a pad of paper.  “What can I get you?”

“Two glasses of your house red,” Caroline ordered for Jimmy.

Not being able to recognize Jimmy Page in the long shadows cast by the booth’s chairs, he scribbled down the order and was off.

“Why’d you order my drink?” Jimmy asked with a smile.  He could not stop smiling.  Everything she said, everything he said, everything she did, everything he did—all in this moment made him genuinely happy.

“You ordered my drink at the party,” she said with lowered eyes.

“You knew that was me?” Jimmy chuckled.

“Like Billy could order that,” she rolled his eyes.  He soon was up as she laughed and Caroline watched him scale the table.  He slid in beside her, letting a hand move behind her back and hook her hip.  He tugged her toward her and she crashed into him, laughing fervently.

“I’m so in love with you,” he spoke brightly, with a glorious light in his eyes.  For that he earned a kiss.  He tried to hold it but she slipped away.  “And all I want to do is touch you, and talk to you, and kiss you.”

Another kiss.  “You know, everyone thinks of you as this… shady enigma.  Yet, you couldn’t be less of this—it seems,” she said and he kissed her again.  She sighed into it briefly, igniting a quiet fire in his heart and loins.

“Really?”

“You’re just this… romantic cornball.”

“Romantic cornball?” Jimmy laughed loudly.  She latched a finger around the ball of his jaw and pulled him in.  Her mouth was open this time—warm and welcoming.  The quiet sounds she made only worsened Jimmy’s southward condition.  Soon he was sure she’d have to say something about the stiffness against her leg as she slowly draped herself across him.  He couldn’t even be ashamed at the ease this came to him—everything she did made him hard.

“Yes,” she whispered, pressing her lips against the underside of his jaw.

“How’s that?” He asked but she was on him again—latched on.  When one of her hands  moved to sit on his knee he knew he was done for.  A quick breath left Jimmy’s mouth and he eagerly moved his hips so she felt him.  They didn’t even realize the waiter bringing the wine.

“That easy, huh?” She asked, quietly acknowledging his arousal.

“This is what you do to me,” he muttered.  She shook her head and laughed.  Then she reached for her wine and drank slowly—Jimmy watched like a suitor watches an available princess.  “God, I love you.”

“Did you ever finish that book I gave you?” She asked and he took a sip of wine.  She watched him drink—watched him like a mistress watches her king.

“The Lady of the Shroud?” He clarified.  She nodded.

“I did,” he grinned.

“Well, what did you think?”

#jimmy page #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fan fic #jimmy page fan fiction #led zeppelin #led zeppelin fanfiction #fanfiction #robert plant #john paul jones #john bonham #classic rock

[thecrownnet]

In its next season, The Crown will finally introduce Princess Diana—and fans can hardly wait. Photos of actress Emma Corrin in character as the Princess of Wales have been making the rounds online, offering a sneak peek at events the show's fourth season will cover:

*Spoilers Alert*

... Charles and Diana's royal tour of Australia, Diana's solo trip to New York, Diana enjoying herself at an easter egg hunt.In a new interview, Josh O'Connor (known to The Crown viewers as Prince Charles) confirmed what fans have suspected. "I think this [season], you’re right, it’s very much the Diana and Charles years, and particularly focusing on what happened there and the ramifications of that going forward," O'Connor told Vulture.

THE CROWN ACTORS HELENA BONHAM CARTER, ERIN DOHERTY, JOSH O’CONNOR AND SAM PHILLIPS HOLD THEIR SAG AWARDS. JOHN SCIULLI/GETTY IMAGES

The actor added that his time on the series is almost over (for The Crown's fifth season, the cast will once again be replaced, so as to portray the royal family at a later stage). "We’re almost done now, and then I’m out, so I’m savoring it while I’m still doing it," O'Connor said. "But it’s been a pleasure."

A pleasure—but perhaps not as illuminating about the real royal family as some might think. "I totally see why people think that they’re related, the fact and the fiction, but as far as I’m concerned, I work purely in fiction," the actor explained. "I would say I have more affinity towards Charles as a real person, but I have no idea what Prince Charles is like really, and I have no idea if my character is anywhere near like him. So I have a lot of sympathy for my character of Prince Charles, but I have no idea of him as a real person."

[Princess Diana is played by Emma Corrin,]

#josh o’connor #prince charles #princess diana #the crown #the crown spoilers #the crown season 4

[theyholdnoquarterr-blog]

Call us crazy, but @aslongasyouneed and I believe there should be more Led Zeppelin fan fiction out there. We’ve exhausted Archive of Our Own two times over by now. 

#general post #text post #fan fiction #led zeppelin #john bonham #john paul jones #robert plant #jimmy page #archive of our own #ao3

[astronomicaldeaky-blog]

Tell ab your oc’s bb

they are a band called 'Mist' they are mostly influenced by Queen (obviously), The Runaways, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin,Janis Joplin, Blondie, Joan Jett, Jimmi Hendrix, and many more!!Their music is a mix of glam rock mixed with blues and a tiny bit of jazz vibes!

There are four members:

Helejna Alliah Farshad but likes to be called 'Elle Farshad', she is the oldest member ( 26 years old ), She is a big big lesbian and has a crush on Olivia but we not gonna talk abt that shhh 🤫 her nickname is Ell or Helej. she is the principal singer, but was the last one to join Mist!! She plays piano, electric guitar, banjo, bass clarinet, and is a songwriter. She is indian, from Mathura, an historical indian city, and went to England with an internship to study photography on College, she talks hindi, french, spanish and a bit of japanese!! she's a big fan of classic movies and old books. She has long reddish brown straight hair, hazel eyes, a prominent but pretty nose and her style is based on the rock 60s. She tweets a lot about music and shares a shit ton of her photography work, not really a fan of working out but she does like to watch Olivia on her bike races or swimming, her personality can be both really bubbly and sophisticated or very quiet and conservative

Liza Dolores Welsh. Her nickname is Lizzy or Welshy She is 23 years old, a bisexual disaster !! and one of the original creators of the band, She is the principal guitarist, and also plays piano, acoustic guitar, trumpet, electric piano, bass tuba, flute and drums! She is part irish and part british, she came from Cambridge, studies philosophy and letters on college, writes poems on her free time and has two little puppies named Star and Lily. Lisa talks French and Italian, does gymnastics and is vegan! Doesn't understand social media but likes to share her workouts and poems. She is an activist and fights for the earth, Liza isn't afraid to yell about the worlds problems and to help people. She has short dirty blonde hair, green eyes and her style is a bit modern classic but mixed with the 70s.

Wendy Steinffield. Her nickname is Wen or reddy ( cause of hair) . She is also 23 years old, and is considered hetero but would have no problem dating a girlie !! one of the original creators of the band. She is the drummer!! And also plays acoustic guitar, piano, electric guitar, flute, trumpet, violin, trenor, organ piano, saxophone, trombone and much more!! She is from Chester England, studies biochemistry on college, loves art and she is a really good dancer !! In her free time she does martial arts and GIRL SHE CAN BREAK SOMEONE IN HALF WITH HER HANDS. She has a motorcycle and it's a bit obsessed with it,, Unfortunately she can't properly sing but it's trying to do her best as an instrumentalist. She likes blues music and heavy metal, one of her drumming inspirations is John Bonham from Led Zeppelin. Wendy talks spanish and french, loves to do chemistry jokes that nobody understands on twitter and posts a shit load of shitposting on her ig story. She has hair to her shoulders, messy and wavy dark red, her eyes are blue and has a tattoo on her arm. Her style is a bit bohemian mixed with rock.

Olivia Sophie Deacon Beaulieu. Before we move on... You may be asking 'Deacon??' And yeah in fact, Olivia is John Deacon's daughter, ( let's pretend John had another kid but not with ronnie okay this is pure fiction ill go in more details from this story later) Her nicknames are Olive,Oli and sometimes Deak, She is 22 years old, and a big bisexual trouble!! the youngest of the group and also the original creator of the band !! Olivia is the bassist of the bans, she also plays piano, electric guitar, acoustic guitar, violin, double bass, drums, synthesiser, trumpet, banjo, double neck guitar, harp, ukelele, and wants to learn more!! she also sings incredibly good !! She was born in Putney and studies physics, mathematics and astronomy in college, talks in japanese, french,italian, russian and latin. Is a very active person and loves sports, she is a cyclist, lifts weights, does swimming, running,yoga, and recently started trapeze arts. She supports campaigns to fight against diseases, child poverty, world hunger and earth problems, with Liza is an activist and they both help those organisations. She donates and always tries to help the others. Olivia is really active on social media, always concerned and showing ways to help people and earth and also recording videos of their life as a band ( has a youtube channel !! we stan an influencer queen) She literally looks like his dad but in female version, with brown long hair, sweet eyes and prominent nose!! Of course she is big influenced on funky music and rock, her style is 70s mixed with modern fashion ( and sometimes clothes she stole from her dad's old closet )

#mist band #my ocs #my writing #personal stuff #asks

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Deceiving Looks, Pt 2

This is a little shorter than I usually write for a chapter, but it feels right to end it here. Robert is trying to kill time before his rendezvous with Josephine, and he's in full panic mode. As always, Bonzo saves the day.

Read the first chapter here. ❤️❤️❤️

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

“Bonzo? Bonzo!!! Oi!!!” Robert hisses to his friend, who fell asleep before he could turn out the lights in their bedroom.

“Bloody hell, Robert!” Bonzo mumbles, still half asleep, a bear not at all thrilled to be awakened from hibernation. “You know it’s fucking morning, mate. Get in your bed and go to sleep!”

Robert paces the room. “But that’s the thing, innit? I met an older, sophisticated brown-skinned bird...erm...lady… and she wants me to come back to hers! In, uh, 15 minutes now!”

“So go spray some more Sun-In in that mess of hair, have a bump, and leave me the fuck alone!” Bonzo puts a pillow over his head to drown out his anxious friend.

“But mate! You don’t understand, yeah? There’s not enough time for me to clean up! All the sweat from the concert and after the concert, a stain from the beer you poured in my seat…” He touches his hair. “And my hair! Hawaii is paradise until all that bloody humidity sets in, innit?”

“This bird obviously has looked past all of that already. Just like all the others, she just wants to see your body in all its skinny-ass glory, and your knob, yeah? Just ask if you can use her shower, give her a show, like you always do, and everyone’s happy! And now that I’ve solved your problem, either stop pacing and sit down, quiet-like, or get the fuck out so I can sleep!” Bonzo tosses a spare pillow that connects with Robert’s back. 

“Thanks, mate. Perfect idea. It’s to the lobby for me, then.” He throws the pillow at Bonzo’s head.

“Fucking wanker,” Bonzo grouses from under two pillows. “Turn the lights out before you leave?”

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

The rest of my stories are here, or search for the hashtag #brownskinsugarplumlibrary

#Robert plant #john bonham #Led zeppelin #classic rock #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #robert plant fan fic #robert plant fanfic #robert plant fan fiction #led zeppelin fanfics #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin fan fiction #my writing #writers #writer #writing #Brownskinsugarplumlibrary

[born-to-lose]

Classic Rock interview with Roger Taylor (2013)

Let's cut straight to the chase, Roger - what is the status of Queen right now?

I'm still in that band, but there's only two of us left, Brian and myself. And only one of us can walk [laughs]. We still run the brand - that's what it is these days.

So if Queen is a brand, operated by you and Brian, where does Adam Lambert fit in?

I wouldn't say he's always going to be a part of Queen. We're doing the live TV show in Vegas with Adam and a couple of other guests, in a 10,000-seater, but that's all we've got planned. There are no rules, really. We do things very much on the spur.

But do you plan to continue performing as Queen, with or without Adam Lambert?

Yeah, but it's only an occasional thing now. Last year, with Adam, we did three really big shows in Europe and three at Hammersmith Apollo, which was a lot of fun. Brian and I realised a long time ago: this is what we do, this is what we are. I'm afraid, readers, it goes on forever.

Are you happy with Adam as Queen's singer?

He works very well with us. He's an incredible singer. He's got a really magnetic stage presence. He's very sexy. And, of course, our more theatrical songs suit him perfectly. He's a diva - a male diva. And that's what he should think about being.

Before you began working with Adam, you toured and recorded an album as Queen + Paul Rodgers.

Paul is a singer that Freddie admired. He led two of rock's greatest bands: Free and Bad Company. In that sense he is the antithesis of Adam Lambert.

We actually loved playing the Free and Bad Company stuff with Paul. But strangely enough, although Paul was wonderful, with that amazing blues-soul voice, Adam is more suited to some of our bigger songs than Paul was.

Some Queen fans think you're selling the band short by having a guy from American Idol as your singer. Do you understand that?

Whatever you do, people have to take it or leave it. That's always the case.

The same applies to The Queen Extravaganza, this new 'official tribute show'. What does that mean, exactly?

Good question. It means that we, or rather I, had a hand in making it. There's an awful lot of Queen tribute bands around, some good, some bad. So I thought, why don't we try to make a really good one, with brilliant musicianship? I put the band together in America, using the internet to audition. And the singer I found, Marc Martel, is an absolute dead ringer for Freddie's voice.

What's Marc Martel's background?

He's in his 30s, from Nashville, originally from Montreal. He's been in Christian bands. He's an extraordinary singer. We also found these amazing musicians. We had a nine-piece group at the beginning and it was too unwieldy. Too much like a showband, with three singers. Now it's a six-piece.

Three singers has the whiff of musical theatre.

And that's the last thing I'd ever want. I can't stand all that over-singing. What these guys do is play our music brilliantly. They can perform the whole of Bohemian Rhapsody, because they can all sing.

How good is the drummer, Tyler Warren?

Brilliant. And he can sing higher than I can. We all know that the drummer is the most important member of the band.

And in some cases the best looking?

Yeah, that as well [laughs].

Seriously, are Classic Rock readers going to like the tribute show?

I'm a rock and roller. I'm not a balladeer. And I think rock fans will love this band. They really get me going. Everybody who sees them will be impressed, I can pretty much guarantee it.

There were rumours in 2011 of a new Queen album, based on 'lost' demos of Freddie's.

Not true. We wouldn't want to put out an album of demos anyway.

Are there any remaining Queen songs, recorded with Freddie, which might be released in the future?

Yes, there's a couple of tracks. Brian and I are going to work on them. One of them we all worked on, the other one was mainly a Brian song.

Were both songs written near the end of your time with Freddie?

Actually, no, they're quite old. I'm not bigging them up or anything, but yes, there are a couple of things that we're going to finish, and I dare say they will come out.

Are there any plans for another Queen album?

Universal want us to put together an album of the slower songs that people don't know so well, so I'm compiling that this week with Brian.

You also have a new solo album out soon.

It's been written over a five-year period, so it's very eclectic. Some gentle stuff, some rockier stuff, and some fairly political stuff.

Where did the political stuff come from?

I wrote a song called The Unblinking Eye, about disillusionment, the mess the country was in, shops on the high street closing and out politicians being such a despicable bunch.

Are you the kind of man who rants at the telly when the news is on?

I've grown out of that. The TV can't hear you.

What's the title of your new album?

My first solo effort [in 1981] was called Fun In Space. I was reading a lot of science fiction at the time. So I've called this one Fun On Earth. I've come down to earth a bit, but there's still a bit of fun in there - some smiley tracks.

Is it influenced by any modern music?

The best band I've seen in a long time is Sigur Ros. I love that atmospheric, semi-ambient thing they have. They're magnificent too. I saw them at the Academy in Brixton.

Do you still get out to gigs?

Very rarely. But I went to see that, even though I had flu at the time. Well, a nasty cold.

Also released in September is a collection of all the music you've made outside of Queen - including solo albums and your 80s side-project band The Cross.

Yes, it's called The Lot. I said: "Let's have the lot in there," so I thought let's call it that.

Is it all good stuff, or is there some rubbish in there too?

Like anything, there are some things you regret. But my last solo album, Electric Fire [1988], still sounds great.

What's the best song you wrote for Queen?

Hard to say. I like Radio Ga Ga. It was a nice fusion of synthesisers and... what can I call it... epic pop.

And the worst?

There's a few. I hate Delilah [on Innuendo]. That's just not me.

Was Modern Times Rock 'N' Roll, on the first Queen album, the first song you wrote for the band?

Yeah. Although before that we'd all written Stone Cold Crazy together. I think that was our first proper song.

As a drummer, you've cited John Bonham as your biggest influence.

For me there were three main influences: Bonzo, Keith Moon, and Mitch Mitchell, who I think was so underrated. I heard Ginger Baker saying some incredibly cruel things about Mitch Mitchell and I thought, what a cunt. Ginger Baker didn't have any of the subtlety or dexterity of Mitch Mitchell, whom he slagged the hell out of. That really got up my nose.

Who are your biggest influences as a songwriter?

Oh, Ginger Baker, definitely [laughs]. Seriously, it would be Dylan, Lennon... and Springsteen is fabulous.

Which song would you say has your best lyrics?

Heaven For Everyone [recorded first by The Cross and later by Queen] had some good stuff about love and dignity, the usual anti-war thing. These Are The Days Of Our Lives was quite nice in a reminiscing, rather old-fashioned kind of way.

And that song took on a greater meaning after Freddie's death.

It took on a resonance, yeah. I was sort of referencing us at the time I wrote it. We knew Freddie wasn't well.

Did you ever see a better frontman than Freddie?

You'll never see anyone connect as well with an audience as Freddie could.

But for all his showmanship on stage, wasn't he somewhat insecure in private?

Oh yeah. He was quite insecure about all sort of things. Strangely, he was also shy in some ways. But he could switch it on and off. He was great when he was with his close circle, but if there were people he didn't know very well, he could feel quite awkward.

Was there any part of Freddie's personality that used to get on your tits?

Almost nothing. But he used to clear his throat in a quite nauseatingly loud way. But we got on famously.

In the 2011 documentary Queen: Days Of Our Lives, when you talk about the last year of Freddie's life and the hounding he received from the tabloid press, you sound furious, even after all the years.

I still feel it today. It was The Sun. It was like an assassination in order to flog a few newspapers. How vindictive and horrible. I thought that was a bit much. I felt very protective of Fred then. And just recently when the News Of The World went down I danced a fucking jig.

Did you ever court the tabloid press?

Not really. I never believed that tabloids sold records. Or actually furthered your career. And I think you're better off trying to keep out of them. I don't think they help you. If anything, they make you look like a tit. And there's too much ammunition there. The less they know, the better. Freddie got a lot of crap printed about him, Brian had a lot, and I had a little bit but not much.

Did you believe there was a homophobic subtext to some of the media coverage of Freddie's death?

Absolutely. "This is what you get..." It was just prurient, wasn't it?

Do you ever dream that Freddie is still around?

Yeah. Brian would tell you the same - that Freddie sort of lives with us. We spent so many years together, living in each other's pockets. And we'd socialise quite a lot together. So he's someone who's not going to go away. But I don't intend to spend the rest of my life living under the shadow of Freddie Mercury. He was my best mate and he's gone, bless him, and we miss him, but you've got to get on with life.

The first Queen album is now 40 years old. What are your memories of making it?

It was all very exciting. Time in the studio seemed so expensive - 30 quid an hour, a huge amount of money back then. We would go in at four in the morning. It was hard work. And we never really got the sound that I wanted on the first album. We didn't have quite enough control, which we got on the second album.

In those early days, what were your hopes and dreams for Queen?

We wanted to get lots of work. We wanted to be recognised. We wanted to be rich and famous.

And how did that work out for you?

It worked out all right. But it's always a more gradual process than people imagine.

Looking back over Queen's career, what are you most proud of?

The way that the music has seeped into the general consciousness, the fact that we are still occasionally played on the radio, and a lot of the music is still popular. Kids know our music now, and I find that fantastic.

Any regrets?

Many regrets. Most are small ones. But I think we made a bad decision to go to South Africa [to play in Sun City in 1984, during the era of apartheid]. I think we were badly advised. Although we went there with the best intentions, I think it was the wrong decision.

But the following year Queen did the right thing and played at Live Aid. And stole the show with a performance that people still talk about today.

Live Aid was a great day. I remember Bob Geldof describing it as a global jukebox. And we got that: right, we'll ram in as many songs as we can. If you're appearing on a global stage, you know that most people watching on television won't be your fans, so we thought the most sensible thing was to play the ones they know. Or rather, play the ones that they might know. So that's what we did.

How would you describe your relationship with Brian May?

We're best mates, really. It's amazing what Brian fits into his life. He's a genuine polymath. He's an astrophysics PhD, one of the world's foremost experts on stereophotography. He does all sorts of things. A bit bonkers, some of it.

You and Brian have continued as Queen without Freddie and without the band's other founding member, bassist John Deacon, who retired from the music business in the 90s. Can you understand why Robert Plant chose not to tour again with Led Zeppelin?

Yeah. Robert's a very pure-spirited man. Also, Zeppelin is very demanding on a singer - all those vocal gymnastics. Pehaps he thinks in some way he might not deliver at the level he was delivering at. And also there's the huge respect for Bonzo, who was the motherfucker of all rock drummers. So yeah, I can see why he won't do it. And Robert has a very respected career of his own.

But if Freddie had lived and had declined to tour again with Queen, that would have been hard for you to accept.

I guess it would. But Freddie always felt his real comfort zone was when we were all together... bickering away [laughs].

Did that bickering come from having four songwriters in Queen?

Very much so. There were definitely four schools of writing going on. John and I found our strengths later than the other two. Right from the start, Freddie just went on in leaps and bounds. He just sort of invented himself. But, at the end of the day, we understood each other. And it worked very well.

In the glory days of Queen you had a reputation as a playboy. Were you?

No. I think that's overplayed. We had a good time - we had a really good time - but we didn't shout about it.

Have you slowed down over the years?

Of course. Everybody slows down. Or dies. And I don't intend dying yet.

What's next for Roger Taylor? A solo tour for your new album?

I'm thinking about getting together some mates in a really hot band and getting out on the road. And if I did, I'd have my son Rufus Tiger Taylor playing drums. He plays with Queen when we tour. He plays percussion most of the time, and when I do anything out front he plays drums. He's Brian's favourite drummer, I think.

Did you teach him too well?

Actually, he's more from the Taylor Hawkins school than mine.

Have you ever thought about stopping playing drums?

I can't imagine it. It would be horrible to think I'd never play the drums or sing again. It's like a painter, really - most painters keep painting.

But it's a bit easier to paint than to play drums.

Very true. But my style gets more economical and relaxed, without me realising it. It's not quite as wild as it was. But I still love to play. I've done a couple of shows with Jeff Beck recently, which is a delight. Jeff is just the most wonderful guitar player.

So you're not thinking of retiring?

Why would I want to stop? It's not like I have to get up at seven o'clock in the morning to go and play the drums, it's something I can pick up and put down when I choose.

All those years ago you wanted to be rich and famous. And your dreams came true. Is there a downside to all of this?

Not really. I slide around fairly unrecognised, which suits me down to the ground. Some people enjoy making an entrance and being noticed. That's not really me.

It's been a good life, hasn't it?

It has. I'm very lucky.

#i would have scanned the pages but idk how to do that #roger taylor #queen #mel talks #also sorry if there are any typos just tell me and i'll correct them #long post #interview #roger taylor interview

[ritacaroline]

Bonz Fan Fic  ch. 6

Record Shop Madness

With that, he took her hand and walked her into the cozy den, in which there was a fire blazing in the fireplace. He had brought with him a couple cold drinks and placed them on a table top in there. He sat on a chair and she sat on the closest edge of the sofa, to him. He sat there purposely so he could face her directly, able to move the light chair anywhere he wished. They were sipping their cold drinks and talking and laughing. 

She enjoyed his sense of humor so much and the two of them were just looking into each others eyes. With the fire radiating such a cozy warm atmosphere, and soft light, John moved closer to her and started touching her hair, and holding her soft hand in his other, massaging her wrist and palm.  He said, “You’re an absolute sight in the fire light my girl, I can’t resist you,” and he leaned forward toward her and started gently taking her sweet lips between his and licking them, one at a time. His kissing was sending bolts of lightning through her chest and stomach. Laurie put her hands at the sides of his neck and caressed him there and kissed him a few times on the side of his neck, right below his ears. And he loved it. He also smelled divine. Her response was thrilling to him, so he took her two hands and pulled her forward more, into his lap, so that she was straddling his legs. And he held her firmly at the lower back and felt her hips in his big hands and massaged her there. He pulled her body in closer, so they were pressed totally against each other. They were kissing and blending together in a hot wet union. He had his tongue in her mouth and she was melted against him. They were moving in such a sexy way against each other, that she was feeling dizzy with desire for him. He began pushing the dark sweater slowly off her shoulders and down her arms. Once it was off, he held and caressed her now bare upper and lower arms, since she wore a sleeveless tunic top under it. The feel of her skin in his hands further ignited him. He had his tongue running up and down the side of her neck, giving her shivers. He was getting hard again, with her right against himself, and had no desire to hide it. And she could feel it and was craving his body like crazy now. She massaged him all around his neck and shoulders as he was making some satisfied little sounds near her ear. She began unbuttoning his shirt and got him free of it, as he whispered to her, “I’m on fire for you, my love.” He stood up and put his arms under her bottom and lifted and carried her, face to face like that, into his bedroom. To him, she was lighter than air. She was loving it and continued kissing his neck as they entered the room. He didn’t put her down, but instead sat down on the bed and kept her straddled around his lap. He gently and slowly lifted and pulled her top off and she helped him, and she took off her bra. “You’re glorious my love,” he said in his deep voice. And they sat there awhile like that as she felt along his strong upper arms, feeling that gorgeous indent under his shoulder muscles exactly where they met his rock hard biceps. She rubbed him there, feeling that sexy indent, over and over, loving the feel of them. They probably became so toned and sexy from his strong work on the farm and also by his daily assault on the drums. “John, your arms are so manly and hard, you have my heart racing here.” She was so turned on by his muscular shoulders, she was completely ignited. He felt her gorgeous back and pressed his fingertips against her upper back, massaging into her muscles. It caused her to wiggle around a bit and she placed her head down forward against his warm shoulder, in bliss. He said, “Oh, my girl, you are more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined. So delicate, so perfectly sexy.  I’m dying for you now.” He leaned down and nuzzled at her bare shoulders and sharp collar bone, covering there with kisses. She was smiling and he was just adoring her. She reached between them and with her small hands she unfastened and unzipped his jeans. The sight of her doing that for him was so hot, he was actually being turned inside out with lust for her. John lifted her up and he placed her standing on the ground for a moment and pulled his jeans down and off, and the boxers too. Until he had nothing on at all. Just stood there, then slowly, and gently began pushing her pants and underwear down as well, till she stepped out of them. Then he sat back down onto the bed and pulled her down next to him, so that they lay there on their sides, facing each other. Onto the fresh clean fragrant sheets. And he held her tight and continued kissing her, down her shoulders and began licking and kissing her breasts. Very warm and slow and wet, trailing kisses all over her beautiful breasts. Taking his time, sliding his hands all around her waist and hips, as his kisses were absolutely destroying her, she was so excited with him in her arms. He said, “My darling. You’re like heaven to me, you have me so hard now.  I’m going to make love to you now, sweet and slow. So I can show you how I feel about you. But if you don’t want to, or are unhappy in any way, you please just tell me and we can stop. Whatever you want, my love.” he spoke in such a low deep and sexy voice, she was just crazy with lust for him. “Oh, John,  oh my God, no, I want you so much right now, I’m out of my mind.” And he got the best smile on his face as he continued kissing her mouth passionately and holding her and caressing her lovely body everywhere he could. “Those are the most thrilling words I’ve ever heard, Laur. I’m so crazy for you, I don’t think I can wait a minute more.”  And she was just loving his touch. Smooth and slow and deliberate. He had his lips all over her and then slowly got on top, kissing her neck. His warm moist breath on her neck had her completely ready to have him. So he placed himself between her legs and slowly entered, until she heard him take in a strong breath. As he reacted to her soft warmth and her grasp on him. She was kissing his face and moving her hips around to get comfortable with him inside. Because he was a big strong guy, and it took a little shifting to get used to his size. She was comfortable after a few moments and he hesitated at first, caring whether she was fine. “Baby, are you ok ?”  he asked softly. “Yes, I’m alright,“ she answered. So, he began to move gently in the warmth a little, more, a little more. John said, “My darling, you feel so right and so perfect, you’re making me high. The feeling from being here with you like this, is incredible.” As he pressed in deeper and deeper, with her tightened around him he began moaning softly. And she couldn’t even speak, it was so sensual and so satisfying. She had her legs wrapped around him, holding on, and her arms all around his shoulders and his lovely muscular back. Pushing her hips up to meet his thrusts. And enjoying every beautiful minute. He was pressing up against her with every push forward and she was being massaged by him right where she needed to be. And she was making some high pitch sounds, sex sounds, which he loved hearing, and she was feeling like she was near to the top of her peak. She almost sounded like she was crying a little, but it was a uncontrollable response to her bliss. She began to say, “Oh, John, John, John, I, I’m, hold, Oh God, ..” and she took in some jagged breaths, stuttering something as she felt the lid blow off. Waves and waves of warm earth shattering satisfaction, flooded her mind and her hips, as she was crying out, and he was intensely loving every second, “Oh, my girl, hang on,“  he said shakily as he just couldn’t hold on any longer. The sexual sound of her voice in ecstacy, had completely pushed him over the edge. And then, suddenly, he reached his peak and his liquids flooded inside her.  He was shaking and moaning. And then, they lay there connected for a moment. Till they could slowly relax and disengage. He slowly backed away, and lay there, for a moment. “Oh my sweet Lord.” he said. “What you did to me. What you did.” Laura spoke softly, “Me ? What did I do ?”  He said, “You brought me to paradise is what you did. And I am going to remember forever. That was insane, how you made me feel. I’m going to need more and more and more of your sweet love. More,” he said while smiling. She just held him close and kissed his beautiful glowing face.  He said, “Laur, will you please stay ? Stay with me here tonight ? I want you right next to me, girl. Don’t go.”  Laura just nodded her head yes. He was hard to refuse. So gorgeous he was in every way. His body, his love making, his kindness, his beauty. She felt so warm and cared for, there was no way to say no to him. He was certainly someone she could get used to. And if that utterly beautiful satisfying experience was only his very first attempt to love her, hell, she said to herself, she’d definitely be sticking around for more. He was a force to be reckoned with. “Just so you know, sweetheart, your lovemaking was intense and beautiful, and I enjoyed you thoroughly. And yes, I would love to stay.” she said as she kissed his mouth again. He was overwhelmed with pleasure at her comments. His heart beat hard in his chest upon hearing that. And they spent a very relaxed and joyful night against each other. John had her wrapped in his lovely embrace, and blankets on top, and was so pleased and so thankful she decided to stay.

Next chapter (7) https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/post/183030611571/bonz-fan-fiction-ch-7

#John Bonham fan faiction John Bonham fan fic Bonzo Fan Fic Bonzo Fan Fiction

[classicrewind]

Tomorrow Never Knows

Lil background for ya’ll: It’s 1982, Bonzo’s still alive (yay!), Zeppelin’s on hiatus (somewhat?); AU in which Jimmy finds himself at the right place at just the right time (for once)

[This may or may not be complete rubbish, I was kind of delirious…]

Chapter One (of who knows…) September 1982

He was late. Just like he was every other day that week. It was Thursday; a cool, drizzly September afternoon. Glancing down at his watch, he grimaced before placing a cigarette between his lips. “Shit, shit shit shit.” He quickened his pace as he counted the remaining blocks to his destination.

The rain was starting to come down as he finally reached the train station. Taking the steps two at a time, he pulled his jacket up over his head heading briskly to his platform.  It was crowded, as he figured it would be at 5 o'clock on a weekday. He lit his cigarette and checked his watch once again.

His train hadn’t left yet, which was good, seeing as the next one to Pangbourne wouldn’t leave for another hour. By then, Jonesy would’ve killed him. But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

Jimmy blew out a stream of smoke as he looked for the signs locating his platform. Throngs of people weaved in and out as they made their daily commute home from the city. Finally reaching his train, he stubbed out his cigarette and boarded.

It was packed and he cursed himself for once again, being late. His favorite section had been filled long before he boarded, so he made his way to the back, looking for a more empty cabin.

Anna was early. She usually was on Thursdays. Her last class ended at 3 and she usually finished grading all coursework before 4. So she liked to take the 5:30pm train home. Being a Literature major had its perks, for one, she always had something to read. It made passing the time much easier.

As the train made its way into the station, she gathered her books and got ready to board. She found her favorite cabin and made herself comfortable in the time she had before the train took off again. Anna preferred to sit in the far back of the train, where most people didn’t venture very often. It was quiet, which made it perfect for her to concentrate.

However, that day the train seemed more packed than normal, she noticed as women started to make their way to the back of the cabin. Anna pulled out her dog-eared copy of a collection of poems by Yeats and began to read. It was one of her favorites, much loved by her over the years. A little too much, since the pages were covered in her writing, some of them coming apart from the binding. But she didn’t care. If anything, it made her treasure it more.

She noticed him as soon as he entered the cabin. It took her a second to recognize from where she had seen his face, but it eventually came to her. Zeppelin. Jimmy Page. She looked down at her book, just in case he saw her watching him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him make his way over to the seat across from her and sit down. He pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips before his attention was caught by something outside the window.

Anna took this as an opportunity to study him. He was thin, much thinner than he looked in photos. His hair was cut shorter than it was in previous years. She could see dark circles forming under his dark green eyes. It seemed as if something was troubling him, something that was worth losing sleep over. Tearing his gaze away from the window, he pulled his lighter out and light his cigarette. Anna returned to reading her book.

Jimmy had found a seat located all the way in the back of the cabin and promptly sat down. He pulled out a cigarette as the train pulled away from the station.

Once outside, he could see a flock of birds take off into the sky. Starting to fly south already, huh? He watched in fascination as he they all flew in formation, changing directions several times as they made their ascent into the sky. He had always wondered how they knew how to do that, like schools of fish. he watched them until he could no longer make out their shape.

Tearing his eyes from the window, he fished out the lighter from his pocket and lit his cigarette. Inhaling, he leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment, enjoying the first release of nicotine into his system. It never feels as good after the first drag. Never. In fact, it only gets worse.

He forgot to eat again today, too busy between that meeting with Peter, and shopping for a new guitar. But the nicotine suppressed his appetite, although he never found himself hungry lately. Too much on his mind. 

He continued to smoke, pondering the day’s events. He was thinking about the new eight-string guitar he had his hands on in the shop. It was a beauty, really. He had never really gravitated toward eight-strings before, but he wanted to experiment, and they allowed him to play with the idea of major thirds tuning, something he hadn’t previously done. He smiled to himself thinking of how good the guitar felt in his hands, as he had strummed out a few chord progressions, getting a feel for its sound. He was taken out of his daydream by a small giggle, followed by two more. They were barely audible, but he heard them.

Opening his eyes slowly, he peered at the girl sitting across from him. She had a miniscule smile on her face as her eyes were lost on the pages in front of her. She was beautiful; breathtaking, really. He found himself outright staring at her as she was enthralled in her book.

Jimmy tried to make out the title on the battered book in her hands. Yeats.  Ah, ‘And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead,  And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.’ Good choice.  He loved Yeats. It reminded him of his childhood. His mother reading poems to him before nightfall.

The girl in front of him still had not noticed him staring, so he continued to observe her. She had long, naturally auburn hair that fell softly down her shoulders. He could make out some tiny freckles that dotted the very tops of her cheeks and nose. She looked no older than twenty-five, but something about her screamed an old soul.

She bit her lip as she read the last lines on the page. She then closed her eyes, as if to savor those words for only a moment before opening them to meet Jimmy’s gaze.

She had amber-brown eyes, Jimmy noticed. Warm, like honey. Could hold the entirety of your soul inside them. He could feel her gaze warm him from the inside out. He began to feel good for a moment. She gave him a Mona Lisa-esque smile as their eyes stayed locked on one another. He returned her smile and she slowly tore her eyes away from his, returning once more to her book. Once her eyes left his, Jimmy felt himself grow cold once more, a feeling all-too-familiar to him these days. He forced himself to look away from her, retiring his gaze onto the setting sun outside the window.

Heat rose into Anna’s cheeks as she felt Jimmy’s gaze on her. She had read to the end of the page, and was trying her very best to concentrate, but she was flustered. She let out a small sigh, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them, meeting his gaze for the very first time.

His eyes were dark, cold. Sharp enough to cut glass. But the longer she watched him, the softer they grew. They were deep enough to get lost in, drown in. So deep you could never find your way back up to the surface. What was that saying? ‘Still waters run deep.’ He was alluring in every aspect of the word; his face was stoic, but his eyes betrayed him, they seemed to say ‘notice me.’ Anna could feel herself getting sucked in. His gaze was soul-shattering, as if he could read you, know you better than you know yourself, but she just couldn’t look away.

She gave him a small smile before reluctantly tearing her eyes away from his. She flipped a page and began to read once more.

The rest of the train ride went by quickly, and before she knew it the train had stopped in Pangbourne. Which meant her stop was next.

This was Jimmy’s stop. He was meeting John Paul, Robert and Bonzo for a rehearsal tonight. They were to play for a benefit concert that following weekend for AIDS research. He was happy to be able to play on stage again, since the band wasn’t really making music that much anymore.

After ‘In Through the Out Door,’ the band had a lot of creative differences. They had decided to each venture into their own direction before coming back together to form a once more unified sound. And Jimmy wasn’t very happy to do so. He knew his sound. He had known it since he formed the band back in ‘68. But he didn’t want to upset the other members who desperately wanted to experiment and try new things. So he went with it, reluctantly.

He stood up, looking down once more at the beautiful girl in front of him, but she was lost once again inside her book. Making his way off of the train, he stepped out onto the platform and made his way to the stairs.

Anna looked up from her book, outside to see Jimmy walking across the platform toward the exit. ‘But names are nothing. What matter who it be,  So that his elements have grown so fine…’ She slowly started to smile as the train once again pulled away from the station.

Anna arrived home a little after 7. She lived in a lovely little house just outside the city of Reading.

“Anna? Is that you?” She heard Paul call out to her from the study. Paul was a professor who also taught in the English department, in fact, she was his T.A. They had been somewhat seeing each other for the past year, and he had asked her to move in with him. She obliged, but she wasn’t quite sure where she saw the relationship going. Sure, she had feelings for him, but she didn’t feel connected with him. He treated her well enough, but something just didn’t feel right. Yet still, she stayed.

“I’m home.” Home. The word felt foreign on her tongue. She couldn’t remember the last time she ever really felt at home with some place or someone. She set her books down and made her way into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine.

Picking up her glass, she made her way into the study to find Paul poring over a few large books. She walked over to him as he kissed her. “How’d class go today? The kids give you a hard time?” Paul asked her as she leaned against the desk.

Taking a sip of wine, she shook her head. “It was fine, but I’m sure they’d appreciate having their actual professor teach them, not some T.A.”

He grabbed her hands. “I know. It’s just I was very busy today. But I really appreciate you covering for me. You’re heaven sent. Oh, did you get the papers from them?”

Nodding, Anna set her glass down and rummaged through her bag to pull out the stack of papers, freshly graded. “I’ve graded them, they just need to be recorded in the grade-book.”

Paul kissed her on the cheek before taking the stack from her hands. “Thank you, beautiful. Do you want to order some takeout for dinner? I didn’t even realize the time, it kind of got away from me today.”

Like it does most days. Shaking her head, she took another sip of wine. “I’m actually not hungry, love. I’m going to head upstairs and settle in for the night.”

Nodding, he turned back to his desk and began to work once more.

She headed upstairs to the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her. She made her way to the nightstand, flicking the lamp on. She then walked to the doors that led to the balcony and threw them open.

It was cool outside, the last remnants of the sun were barely visible on the horizon. But it felt good. She pulled out the pack of cigarettes hidden in her dresser drawer and placed one between her lips. She grabbed her Yeats book from her bag and sat down out on the balcony.

She never smoked. But tonight, she needed this. Lighting it, she saw her hands were shaking. She inhaled deeply and let the smoke fill her lungs before expelling it into the cool evening air. She flipped her book open to her favorite poem and began to take herself away from that house.

The guys weren’t very happy with Jim. He was late, again. “Don’t you even use that watch on your wrist?” John Paul asked him.

“Yeah, the meeting ran a little late. But basically Peter said they’re going to be recording this concert to be produced into an album. They want to use it as another fundraiser for the charity.”

Robert nodded, taking a sip of his tea. “Sounds good, mate. Let’s get to work, yeah? We’ve lost quite a bit of time. I mean, Bonzo only got here minutes before you.”

Rolling his eyes, Jimmy turned and grabbed his guitar, warming up a bit before they started to put together the set for the show.

“So I’m thinking we should open with 'Rock And Roll’, 'Cause it’ll get everyone up and moving.” Robert said. John Paul and Bonzo nodded in agreement as Jimmy continued to mess around with his guitar. They continued to add songs to the set list until it was complete.

“We have to put 'Stairway’ on there somewhere, maybe last? Yeah. Let’s end it with Jim.” Robert said, patting Jimmy on the shoulder, smiling down at him with dazzling blue eyes.

Jim looked up and returned a small smile, “Sounds good. Let’s start, yeah?”

John Paul nodded and picked up his bass as Bonzo made his way over to the drumset.

They finished rehearsal as midnight rolled around. Setting his guitar down, Jimmy ran a hand through his hair. “Great work guys. Really good.”

“Yeah, I say we pick this up again Saturday afternoon or so? We’re down to a week before the show.” John Paul said.

Robert nodded his head, hands on his hips. “Sounds good to me. Jim, Bonzo, think you guys could be on time this time?” He giggled heading into the kitchen.

“Kiss my arse, I’ll be there when I’m good and ready.” Bonzo said as John Paul started to look annoyed.

Jimmy ignored them as he began to pack his things up, getting ready to head out. Normally he’d go out tonight, hit up some friends for a night out. Drink a little too much, and drown his thoughts in booze and drugs. But tonight, he felt drained. He craved to be alone, to slink into the recluse of his mind.

“Are you guys hungry? I’m gonna order something, I’m sure some place is still open.” Jimmy heard John Paul call from the kitchen.

Standing up, he headed into the kitchen. “Actually, I’m going to head out. I’ll see you guys Saturday. Don’t worry, I’ll be on time.”

Robert looked crestfallen as Jimmy turned to head out the door. “Great work today, Jim.” He called to him. Jimmy nodded as he shut the door and headed out into the night.

Jimmy came home to a dark house, just how he always liked it. He walked into his study, flicking a desk lamp on.

Heading over to his bookshelf, he scanned it before plucking out the book he was looking for. He smiled down at the cover, a first edition copy of Yeats’ 'When You Are Old’

He settled down into a chair and flipped it open, re-familiarizing himself with the old text. He scanned the index before flipping to his favorite poem, 'All Souls Night.’

“Words were but wasted breath; One dear hope had he: The inclemency Of that or the next winter would be death.” He softly spoke the words aloud, wincing as they echoed off the walls.

Jimmy felt his thoughts drift to the girl from the train, wondering where she was at this moment, what exactly she was doing. He felt her presence at the back of his mind, and he’s unsure of whether or not he liked it that way.

He thought about how good he felt on the train with that girl. When her eyes looked into his, it had stirred something in him. Something he hadn’t felt in such a long time, he wasn’t sure he was ever capable of feeling it ever again. He felt warm, safe. Happy even? He wished he could live inside her gaze. If only for a moment or two, I’d be okay.

Placing the book to the side, he walked over to his desk, pulling out a few drawers, rummaging until he found what he was looking for.

Crushed in a small piece of plastic wrap, he picked it up along with a syringe. He headed into the kitchen for a spoon before returning to his study. Carefully, he placed a large pile of heroin into the spoon, drowning it in water and lemon juice, until it dissolved. He fished out his lighter and lit the mixture until it reached a dark brown color. Placing the syringe into his mouth, he tightly wrapped his upper arm with a tie so the veins were easily accessible. He tore off a small piece of a cotton ball, placing it inside the spoon, so it would filter the drug nicely. Jimmy slowly placed the needle into the spoon and drew up the heroin until it was full.

He began humming the melody of 'Tea For One’ “A minute feels like a lifetime Baby, when I feel this way…”

Poking the vein a few times to get the blood flowing, he slowly lowered the needle into his flesh. Sucking in air as the needle tore a hole, he carefully injected the mixture into his arm, slowly lifting the syringe out once it all entered his vein.

Removing the tie, he tossed the syringe onto the desk, staggering back into the chair. He let out a familiar sigh, as he got ready for the high to take place.

He felt the familiar chill that coursed his body as the heroin made its way throughout his system. He smiled as his head started to grow cloudy. Soon after, an amber color filled his eyes, and he felt himself engulfed in warmth just before drifting away.

*So you guessed it, it’s another LZ fanfic. I had this brain child the other night and tried my best to write it out as coherently as possible. Thanks for stopping by, and feel free to lemme know what you think!

#led zeppelin #led zeppelin fanfiction #jimmy page #jimmy page fan fiction #robert plant #john paul jones #john bonham #led zeppelin fanfic #tomorrow never knows

[disco-cola]

i’m still in post-concert depression from guns n´ roses but simultaneously in pre-concert anticipation for the stones this friday, so i’ve been re-watching my favorite movies specifically set in the 70s and 80s rock music business scene to stay in the mood and since i’m bored as hell i thought i’d share a list of them because i know a lot of people are always looking for classic rock-themed movies and they’re kind of a rare breed sadly, so here you go!

☆ ALMOST FAMOUS (2000): first off, i recommend the extended cut, also called ‘untitled’ cut, over the cinema version! that film is just a classic to me. an absolute favorite. i can speak along to every minute of this film. i’m sure most of y’all will have seen it by now. but anyway, this has to go in here.

☆ ROCK STAR (2001): set in the mid-1980s. about a guy devoting his life to worshipping his favorite band and imitating their singer until the chance of his life appears and he actually gets to be their new frontman. i remember when i first watched it i found that movie kinda cringy, but i’ve absolutely grown to love it. serves all the 80s rock star clichés you can dream of. (interesting to know: john bonham’s son jason portrays the drummer of the fictional film band steel dragon. also most of the other band members are played by actual musicians, among others zakk wylde.)

☆ VELVET GOLDMINE (1998): also kind of a classic. great movie about the early 70s-glam rock scene. the characters are quite obviously based off bowie, iggy pop, a little lou reed and mick jagger. outrageously amazing fashion!

☆ THE RUNAWAYS (2010): usually i’m not a fan of “newer” movies set in the 70s/80s, but this one was really good. i remember when me and my old high school friends watched it sometime after its release, we desperately wanted to form our own all-girl punk band. we lasted thru one half-assed rehearsal. that movie still makes me wanna start my own band though. a bittersweet tale about one of the raddest ‘girlbands’ that’s ever been!

☆ THIS IS SPINAL TAP (1984): a documentary-style film that’s so authentically made you might forget it's not real. draws an exaggerated, slightly mocking picture of a fictional rock/metal band in the early 80s. people who really were in the business say some things really weren’t far from reality at all. but that’s what makes it so good. (bonus: fran drescher has a part in this, and boy do i love fran!)

not necessarily set in the music business scene, but most definitely around it and still worth a mention:

☆ ROADIE (1980): starring meat loaf, who plays a texan hillbilly falling in love with a rock groupie on the road while accidentally becoming “the greatest roadie that ever lived.” with cameos by blondie and debbie harry, alice cooper and roy orbison. great soundtrack too!

☆ SUNSET STRIP (2000): set on a day in 1972 on (as the title promises) legendary sunset strip around a group of people trying make it on the scene. one of them is a clothing designer and has a boutique across from the whisky a go go, where she dresses musicians and bands. interesting fact: that character is based off jeannie franklyn aka “genie the taylor” - a young fashion designer who had her shop right inside the whisky, outfitting just about everyone who was someone in the late sixties from cream, the jimi hendrix experience, jefferson airplane, donovan, buffalo springfield, the mamas and the papas, martha & the vandellas, the temptations to keith moon, sharon tate, david crosby and many more. she died in a car crash while being on the road with fairport convention in england in may 1969. wanted to share this because she’s so overlooked and forgotten and she deserves a mention and remembrance! and so does this movie!

#if anyone watches any of these feel free to let me know how you liked it! #classic rock #movies #movie recommendations

[1962dude420-blog]

Today we remember the passing of Neil Peart who died January 7, 2020 in Santa Monica, California after a 3 year battle with Brain Cancer

Neil Ellwood Peart, OC was a Canadian musician and writer best known as the drummer and primary lyricist of the rock band Rush. Peart received numerous awards for his musical performances, including an induction into the Modern Drummer Readers Poll Hall of Fame in 1983, making him the youngest person ever so honoured. Known to fans by the nickname 'The Professor', his drumming was renowned for its technical proficiency and his live performances for their exacting nature and stamina.

Peart was born in Hamilton, Ontario, and grew up in Port Dalhousie (now part of St. Catharines). During adolescence, he floated between regional bands in pursuit of a career as a full-time drummer. After a discouraging stint in England to concentrate on his music, Peart returned home, where he joined Rush, a Toronto band, in mid-1974, six years after its formation. They released nineteen studio albums, with ten exceeding a million copies sold in the United States. Billboard ranks the band third for the "most consecutive gold or platinum albums by a rock band". Early in his career, Peart's performance style was deeply rooted in hard rock. He drew most of his inspiration from drummers such as Keith Moon, Ginger Baker, and John Bonham, players who were at the forefront of the British hard rock scene. As time passed, he began to emulate jazz and big band musicians Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich. In 1994, Peart became a friend and pupil of jazz instructor Freddie Gruber. It was during this time that Peart decided to revamp his playing style by incorporating jazz and swing components.

In addition to serving as Rush's primary lyricist, Peart published several memoirs about his travels. His lyrics for Rush addressed universal themes and diverse subjects including science fiction, fantasy, and philosophy, as well as secular, humanitarian, and libertarian themes. Peart wrote a total of seven nonfiction books focused on his travels and personal stories.

On December 7, 2015, Peart announced his retirement from music in an interview with Drumhead Magazine, though bandmate Geddy Lee insisted Peart was quoted out of context, and suggested Peart was "simply taking a break". However, in January 2018, bandmate Alex Lifeson confirmed that Rush was retiring due to Peart's health issues. During his last years Peart lived in Santa Monica, California, with his wife, Carrie Nuttall, and daughter. After a three and a half year illness, Peart died of glioblastoma on January 7, 2020, at age 67.

#january 7 #2020 #r.i.p. #neil peart #rush