#keith richards imagine

[muppetjackrackham]

black sails has made me so insane that i started plotting out a 1980s band au with every major captain as the frontman of their own band and every band name is a reference to black sails or treasure island

[ezrawritesthings]

Baby Mama Drama || Mick Jagger

Don't you think you've put up with enough bullshit from Mick? Maybe it's time you let him know how utterly pissed off you are. Maybe it's also time you took out some of your frustrations on the woman that knowingly caused your most intense heartbreak. Not like you and Anita ever got along anyway.

A/N: femme reader, she/her pronouns. Slut shaming, angst, cheating, cheating accusations, baby paternity questioning, blood, broken nose, hair pulling, violence. (And a huge shoutout to @omg-hellgirl's fanTASTic blog for helping me gather information for this fic!) Minors DNI.

You're angry. But you've always been angry. No one can piss you off quite like Mick Jagger. It's always been that way, but for so long, it's been what pulled you to him. He could piss you off and then calm you down so flawlessly. You loved him, and he liked to say he loved you. Maybe he really did love you. Perhaps his actions were more about who he thought he was than who was standing in front of you.

All along you've known you were different than his other girlfriends, wives, liaisons, lovers, whatever one wishes to call them. You were a guitarist, a vocalist, and you were on track to be only slightly less successful than The Rolling Stones. Frankly, you were fine with that. If you should fade into obscurity and only be known for your ties with Mick, you'd be content so long as he treated you right.

He's been treating you right.

For a month or so. Ever since you found out about the affair.

But you're still beyond angry regarding his last affair. Often enough, you and Keith liked to talk guitar, you liked to shoot whiskey and trade riffs back and forth, and you dragged Keith somewhere comfortable during his nods frequently. Mick used this to justify what he did, insisting you slept with one of his band mates.

You never did. You're adamant about that, because you know you never fucking did it. For all of your own faults, you're faithful to the ends of the world once you fall in love. So naturally when you stood your ground and stood up to Mick regarding that topic, he crumbled like concrete and knew he'd gone and fucked up.

For Anita, though? It was just fun. She had her fun and now she was done with Mick, leaving the two of you to pick up the shattered pieces all over again. And you hated her for it. Never have you loathed another woman as much as you hate that blonde.

She even invades your dreams. It's a peaceful sleep until you and Keith walk into a room and there she is, on her back or knees with Mick. You never close the door. You two stand there and watch until you're jolted out of your sleep. The dreams get progressively more vivid. Last night, you were able to hear Keith crying, something you hadn't heard before. Unable to turn your head to look at him, you kept your eyes on the vile display of infidelity.

Today hurts because you know you have to be around Anita for an extended period of time. How long? Who knows. Until the album is done, until Keith grows tired of her, until you finally put your big girl pants on and get on a plane back to your home state by yourself.

You've chosen to keep yourself sane with nicotine and marijuana, which works most of the time. A week into this fiasco of an album, and a thought has been brewing in your mind you can't ignore any longer.

There's a little toddler running around. Blonde hair and brown eyes. Marlon Richards is a funny little guy, you like to give him spoons to bang on the walls with, or show him how to fly a kite outside. Everyone spends time with Marlon, but the more time you spend with him, the more horrified you become.

You're aware Mick has children out there. It would be stupid to assume not, hell, he's told you about them. You've met his oldest, Karis.

Your mind hurts. Your heart aches. And you're getting angry again. Why are you thinking this? Why do you think Marlon should be a Jagger instead of a Richards? Fuck, it's tearing you apart.

That night, you woke up in a pile of other people. Keith to your left, someone you don't know to your right, but the needle is still in your arm so you can assume what you did. Not your first time trying heroin, but, you really don't want to make a habit of it. As you sit up, you take a moment to check Keith's neck for a pulse. Much to your surprise, he turns to look up at you.

"Beatin' like a drum, doll."

"I had to be sure. Can't have my buddy keelin' over." You give his neck a little tap before using your hands to push your body off of the floor. Keith moves to sit up, pulling his shirt and pants back into place and taking a moment to make sure you and everyone around him were not in a state of undress. He'd hate himself if he nodded out during an orgy.

Luckily, everyone's properly dressed and you're able to stand on your shaking legs and pluck the needle from your arm. It gets tossed into the nearest bin as you stretch your arms above your head and start walking, wondering where the hell Mick got off to.

Keith trails behind you, running his fingers through his hair. Much like you, he wants to find Anita. Dare you both say after such a good nod, you fancy a shag.

Turning a corner, you stop walking so suddenly and so sharply that Keith walks right into you and stumbles backwards. Yet your feet have never been more firmly planted, your eye twitching at the sight.

Little Marlon is sitting on Mick's lap on a couch, next to him is Anita... and he's whispering in her ear. Though she seems disinterested, you can tell just how much she loves the attention, the slight blush to her cheeks as Mick bounces the teething toddler on his leg.

There's a lot going through your mind, but the main thing is that you're about to explode. And usually, you have your explosions when it's just the two of you. It's all over and the fuse is lit when Anita looks at you with such a knowing look. She knows what you think. She wants you to think that.

And you do.

"Get your son, Keef."

"Pardon?"

But there's no time to answer him when Mick hears your voice and turns to look at you. You're stomping over to the trio on the couch, your face getting progressively more reddened. Immediately both Keith and Mick know hell is about to be unleashed on earth through you, so Mick hands off Marlon to his proper father who scoops him up and out of the way.

Your eyes are on Anita, the blonde unmoving. Her eyes stay fixated on you and you just want to grab her neck and wring the life out of her.

"What were you two havin' a chat about?!"

"... he was telling me how good I look in this dress, actually." With those words, Mick curses under his breath and gets out of the line of fire. Catfights can be hot. This one is going to be scorching.

"Are you sure? Are you sure he wasn't askin' if Marlon's a Jagger?"

"Whoa!" "Wait, whoa!" "What?!" You hear Mick and Keith reacting to your question with nothing short of confusion, as if the concept never crossed their minds.

"Darling, please, we should-" Mick reaches forward to try and take your hand, wanting to soothe you and make things be okay again. It was not going to work.

"GO JERK YER PRICK, YA SEEDY TWAT!"

Mick lets go of your arms and puts both of his hands up, blue eyes going wide.

"A woman knows who the father is. A woman always knows..." Anita finally stands up, looking into your eyes and crossing her arms. In her defense? She does look great in that dress. But you'd never admit it. "You'd know that if you weren't barren, I'm sure."

You feel your eye twitch, the duo of men watching you have their focus shifting from the incoming brawl to the young toddler in Keith's hands. Staring at him, trying to silently figure out which of the men he looks like. He looks like Keith... sort of...

You're not barren! You just may be the only woman Mick Jagger didn't knock up in the first few minutes of speaking to him, and you're quite proud of that. But the way she says it...

"You're such a fuckin' skank! And a horrible actor to boot! You're not pretty enough to be such a... a bitch!"

With that sentence, you lunged for Anita, grabbing her hair at the root and balling your fist up, cracking her right in the nose. Crimson starts to pour down her face and that was when Keith placed Marlon on the ground, he and Mick dashing forward to grab you by an arm each.

"Let me go!"

Keith obliges, only to go to his darling Anita and place his shirt to her nose. Though, he knows she deserves what just happened. So, he can't really scold you... or be mad. You're his friend. You two worked through the heartbreak of your beloveds cheating together side by side.

Yet as Mick grabs you around the waist, you thrash against him. "Let me go, Mick!"

"You're batty! You've absolutely lost it! Keef's genes are strong in this little guy!"

"Me arse!" You finally wiggle away from him, standing to face him. He looks like he's expecting you to punch him next. And, frankly, you're considering it. How good it would feel to crack him in the nose too. But you know you can't raise a hand to him. How could you live with yourself?

"I'm going home. You can... have your little parties and make your little album and have that bitch around, but I won't be a part of it!"

"Darling don't be like that!"

"Fuck you, Mick! Fuck. You!"

Those being your final words to the man you love, you left that night. A series of hotels, flights, and pain sent you back home to be alone and dwell on your thoughts. You're not sure if doing that whole charade in front of Marlon was a good idea. You're also not sure that Marlon looked like Mick in the slightest...

But you know one thing.

Punching Anita Pallenberg is going to be what you're remembered for, until long after your death. And that makes you smile like an idiot.

[waugh-bao]

Jas Obrecht: Do you think you could have been happy in another profession?

Charlie: Well, I wouldn’t have known Mick or Keith [then]…would I?

(1994 Audio Interview)

[reapers-lover]

Keith Richards x Fem!reader

~Fluff~

The last bell for the school day rang and you quickly grabbed your bag and walked home. It had been a very long and stressful week so you were excited that it was the weekend and you could finally relax.

When you got home you walked into your kitchen to find your parents sitting and talking.

"Look dear, her grades are decreasing. I bet it's that boy she keeps hanging around." Your father said.

"I know darling but what are we supposed to sa-

Before she could finish you cut her off saying "hi mom hi dad I'm home."

"Oh darling great please come sit down we need to talk." Your father said as he pulled out a chair for you. You quickly sat down and looked at your parents.

"Y/n, we don't want you spending time with Keith anymore." Your father said sternly.

Your heart sunk. Keith was your best friend. He was the only person who truly understood you, you couldn't just let him go.

Your father continued, "your grades are dropping from A's to B's, and we think that Keith is why you aren't doing well in school. So we decided that it's best you lose connections with him."

It felt as though the world had stopped. All you could hear was your heart beating too loudly in your chest. Like a ticking time bomb just counting down the beats before you explode.

"Ok.." you mumbled quietly. You didn't want to say much more because you knew that your voice would crack and you would start to cry. So you quietly got up from your seat and left to go to your room.

You didn't want to think or feel anything. You just needed to see Keith. You needed to be hugged and held and told everything was going to be ok. So you packed a small bag with enough clothes and essentials for the weekend and walked back down into the main room where your parents were seated.

"Cassi invited me to stay at her house for the weekend. May I please go?" You asked politely.

"Yes dear have fun and stay safe." Your mom said not even looking up from the book she was reading.

You thanked her then quickly walked out of the door and headed to Keith's house. You finally got to the door of his house and knocked. When it open Keith was there with a bright smile thst dropped once he realized something wasn't right.

"Y/n, are you ok?" He asked you. You were able to hold it together the whole walk to his house but just hearing his voice made you crack and you quickly started crying.

"Oh Y/n come here" He said holding his arms open for a hug. You accepted it and buried your face into his chest. His hug was warm and tight which made you cry even harder.

He pulled away slightly and looked at you. "Let's get out of the doorway and go to my room, ok?" He asked you sweetly.You nodded and followed him inside.

"Keith! Who was at the door?" Doris, Keith's mom called out.

"Y/n! We are going to go to my room she needs someone to talk to!" He shouted back.

"Ok dear, I'll let you both know when dinners ready!" She shouted once more before going back to whatever she was doing.

You finally got to Keith's room and he quickly closed the door then turned back around to face you.

"Come here." He said once more pulling you into a hug. And you broke down in his arms completely. You stayed like that for a while. You cried into his chest while he whispered sweet words into your ears. Once you calmed down a bit he led you over to his bed where you both sat down.

"Whats bothering you, Y/n?" He asked while taking your hands in his.

"It's just been a really long week and when I finally got home ready to just relax my dad said he didn't like how my grades dropped. He blamed it on you and said I wasn't allowed to see you anymore. So I lied and said I was staying the weekend somewhere else." You cried out leaning forwards to cry onto Keith.

He embraced you and started rocking you side to side. "Shhh, it's ok love. I promise we will figure this out." He whispered into you ear.

He bent down and kissed you lightly on the forehead. This was new, he had never gotten that affectionate with you. It made you feel butterflies. You've liked Keith for awhile now but you mostly just ignored it. But you couldn't stop your face from turning a bright shade of red.

"Looky here, someone's blushing" He teased making you sit back up and laugh. You wiped you eyes drying them off then opened them to see keith was red too.

"Says you!" You teased back, "you look like a tomato by how red you are!"

"Oh you're gonna get it" He challenged playfully. Before you could even realize what was going on He had gotten on top of you and was tickling you. You tried to push him off but you couldn't stop laughing long enough to muster up the strength.

After a minute or so he stopped and dropped beside you. Both of you were still laughing like maniacs. However you laughing fit was cut short by Keith's mom calling you both for dinner.

You and his family ate and made polite conversation throughout the meal. And afterwords you all said goodnight and went your own ways.

Soon enough you back on Keith's bed talking with him about whatever came to mind. After awhile you quickly got into the topic of music and you watched him talk on and on about it. He was so passionate about it and you loved watching his eyes light up every time he got to talk about it.

You made a quick decision and grabbed his chin and turned his face to yours. Then you leaned in and kissed him. He stayed frozen for a second, clearly not expecting it but then came back to his senses and started kiss you back.

You both pulled apart and looked at each other. "Keith, I really like you." You admitted. You looked down, not being able to hold eye contact. He placed his hand under your chin and made you look back into his eyes.

"Well that's good because I really like you too." He whispered before leaning in and kissing you once more. You smiled and accepted the kiss. Haply to know he felt the same way.

And that night against your parents wishes you fell asleep in the arms of the man you loved.

[demac9]

The Rolling Stones - Just My Imagination (Lyrics On Screen)

[waugh-bao]

@charlesandkeef From all the official description we have, this is indeed the case:

Especially when we know someone doesn’t really understand proportionality (or doesn’t care):

keith playng the guitar (+)

[lemoncrushh]

Leather and Lace

Summary: The night Harry sang with Stevie at the Troubadour

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1440

A/N: This is a special little one shot written after that night in 2017. For those who don't know me, I've been a massive Stevie Nicks fan for many many years. Though I was not there at the Troubadour, I cried tears of joy when I found out about it. Then I wrote this. It's written in first person because it is so personal to me.

I'd been trying to hold it together for the last twenty minutes. The show was over, the crowd for the most part was dispersing and leaving the Troubadour, with a few clusters of fans here and there chatting. The music was still ringing in my ears, the feedback from the guitar now long gone yet still managing to vibrate and shake throughout my body. I stood frozen in my spot on the balcony where I'd sat next to James to watch Harry. The stage was now empty, the spotlights now making it seem more like a distant memory, or a time capsule from a completely different era - one that I'd seen in old magazines from decades ago.

I couldn't believe what I'd just witnessed. Harry had just sung with Stevie Nicks. Stevie fucking Nicks! To say I was a fan of hers would be an understatement. Stevie was my idol. My queen. The reason I'd wanted to be a musician since I was twelve.

I hadn't known she would be there. Harry hadn't told me. Whether it was because he wanted it to be a surprise, or because he was afraid I would freak out and be nervous for him, therefore making him all the more nervous, I didn't know. But maybe it was a little of both.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my back. I turned to see James who gave me a kind smile and patted my shoulder. He whispered in my ear that he was leaving and he would ring Harry later. I nodded and gave him a quick hug and said goodnight. Then I turned my gaze back to the stage below.

He'd done it. This was it. I couldn't even imagine it getting any better. He could sell out arenas and stadiums all over the world, win all the Grammys and stay at number one on Billboard for over a year and it still wouldn't compare to the emotions I'd felt watching him sing with Stevie.

I felt a tear start to trickle down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away when I heard my name behind me.

"There you are," said Glenne. "Harry's looking for you."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "He is?"

"Yeah, he wants you backstage."

Harry never asked for me to come backstage or to the dressing room, neither before or after a show. I would give him the space he needed to clear his head and get in the zone. Even when he was on Saturday Night Live, I'd just taken a seat like any other audience member and waited until he'd come out to find me, his face all flushed, his bag slung over his shoulder. For him to be asking for me now...after what had just happened...that meant something.

"Okay..." I took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

I descended the staircase slowly, my knees shaking. Glenne hadn't bothered to follow me, which only confirmed that Harry had requested me and me only.

Jeff stood just inside the dressing room door when I entered. He nodded at me silently before walking around me and leaving me alone with Harry. He sat on a small leather loveseat that had seen better days and probably had more stories to tell than Keith Richards. When he saw me, he beamed. I immediately ran to him when he rose, throwing my arms around his middle. It didn't matter that he was sweaty. It didn't matter that the door behind me was wide open. All that mattered was that I couldn't be more proud of him than I was in that moment.

We rocked back and forth for a few minutes until I felt him kiss the top of my head and whisper.

"Sorry I didn't tell you. Kinda wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well, you definitely achieved that."

Harry chuckled, his chest shaking against my cheek that pressed to it. "So, what'd you think?"

I licked my lips, trying to gather my thoughts. "I thought it was the most beautiful moment I've ever gotten to see and hear in my life."

"Yeah?"

I lifted my head to look at him. "Of course. My two favorite people. Singing together. What could be better than that?"

Harry smiled wider as he brushed a strand of hair away from my eyes. His eyes danced with glee, like a giddy child who'd just gone to Disneyland.

"How did it feel to you?" I asked him. "To be up there with her, singing her songs, her singing yours? That had to feel incredible."

For the first time since I'd entered the room, Harry's smile faltered a bit and he pressed his lips together.

"To be honest," he replied, "I was having a hard time keeping it together."

I nodded. "I know. I noticed. But I think that made it ever better. I loved seeing you getting choked up. Because I was getting choked up too."

Harry suddenly let go of me and backed away, digging his palms into his eyes. He sat on the couch again, his shoulders trembling as he released his emotions he'd no doubt been holding in up to that point. I silently sat beside him, my hand gently laid on his thigh, unmoving and waiting until he was ready for more contact. I watched him cry, the overwhelmingness finally hitting him. Finally with a shaky breath, he took hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze. He tried to catch the tears before they fell unsuccessfully as I rubbed his back with my other hand.

"That was...pretty intense, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah..." he breathed, wiping his eye with the back of his hand.

"She's amazing."

"A legend," Harry added. "I can't believe...I can't believe that actually happened. It's like...a dream."

I smiled. "She seemed to really like you, too. She must think you're something special to do that with you. And she'd be right."

Harry turned to me then, giving me a small grin.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," I murmured, leaning my cheek against his shoulder. "I just...I just don't even have words for how I feel right now. You continue to blow my mind.

He squeezed my hand again before threading his fingers through and bringing it to his lips.

"Now, I'm gonna want a studio recording of Leather and Lace," I quipped.

Harry chuckled, and I was happy I'd lightened the mood.

"You might just have to settle for a live version on youtube, I'm afraid."

I shrugged. "Fair enough. Sometimes live recordings are better anyway. And there's no way you could really recapture that magic in a studio version."

"Harry, darling, I just wanted to say goodbye and wish you the best of luck."

I knew the voice before I even turned my head. There she stood in the doorway, my queen in all her five feet and one inch, minus the platform boots. My eyes widened and I'm pretty sure I gasped as Harry rose from the sofa again, my hand still in his.

"Thank you so much, Stevie," he choked, his voice raspier than usual.

The next few moments were a blur which seemed to happen in fast forward and slow motion simultaneously. Harry introduced me to Stevie, I shook her soft, tiny, hand with its long painted nails, and I think I might have told her I loved her, though I don't remember exactly. I do remember, however, that she hugged me and she smelled intoxicatingly beautiful, like a cross between jasmine, honeysuckle and Nag Champa incense. I also might've held on a little longer than I should have until she pulled away and smiled, then moving to hug Harry. If I had thought about it, I would have taken a photo, but the memory burned in my brain was enough.

I watched her walk away, giving one last wave, then I stared at her boots as she walked down the hall and hugged Sarah and Clare.

"I wonder which of us is the most starstruck," I heard behind me.

I smiled, turning around.

"Definitely you," I commented. "You got to sing with her. That's like...the ultimate."

"I dunno," he smirked. "You should see your face right now."

I slapped my hand to my mouth. "Oh my God!" I muffled my scream. "I just met Stevie Nicks!"

Harry smiled wider, holding out his arm to gesture for me.

"C'mere, love," he said.

I crashed into his chest again, wrapping my arms around him. Just like before, we rocked back and forth. Only this time, I was the one weeping.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[dbstaches]

2020 VISION Five of pop's hi-tech stars take a long look into the future…

Number One magazine, 7 January 1984 — full text of David Ball entry bellow

What records will you be listening in 2020? “I don't listen to many pop records now really. I tend to listen to film soundtracks by people like John Barry and Bernard Hermann.”

Will there still be records? “I think there will be records still. There'll also be many more video discs, and holophonic records, like the one Psychic TV brought out, may be more widely available.

What will your job be in 2020? “Hopefully by 2020 I won't have to work. And I hope nobody else does either.”

Will The Rolling Stones still be around? “If the Rolling Stones are still around they'll be in their seventies. Imagine Mick Jagger and Keith Richard with white hair and walking sticks. It would be grotesque.”

What will you be wearing? “Probably my old leather jacket and jeans.”

Will boys still be boys and girls still be girls? “Yes I think so. And they'll always be those inbetween.”

What will you have in the front room besides the TV and the stereo? “It would be nice if eveyone had a Brion Gysin dream machine. They have the same effect as LSD, but without taking chemicals. There's also the possibility that by that time we'll have 3D TV. They've already started work on it in Japan.”

What instruments will people be playing? “I think instruments will be pretty much the same as they are now. But the emphasis could be on microtones rather than the conventional tones and semi-tones in a scale. That opens up a whole spectrum of sound, rather like having grey notes on a piano.”

Will people still be going to concerts? “Yes. But people will be sick of everything being really loud. There'll be different ways to stimulate a crowd. Various doctors are already researching in psychoacoustics, although nobody in pop uses them. It's a lot more exciting and it wouldn't damage you.”

What's your favourite science fiction book and film? “I like J.G.Ballard's books - particularly Crash, The Atrocity Exhibition and a story called The Concentration City. For films I like Scanners and A Clockwork Orange.

Do you believe in UFO's? “Yes. Although I've never seen one. I'm sure there must be other forms of life that travel about like we send rockets to the moon.”

What sort of robot would you like t have around the house? “I'd like a robot I could programme telepathically. But I wouldn't want it to look human. That would be too much like having a slave.”

Will Big Brother be watching us? “Big Brother has been watching us for several years. Already lots of government computers are linked together, the growth of home computers will give a better picture of how we live and make it much easier for the authorities.”

Bearing in mind the current nuclear debate, so you think we will still be around by 2020? “I think it depends on America. People are paranoid about the Russians but I think America is the biggest threat to mankind.”

[companion-showdown]

Family Feud Nominations, Who is the Best Doctor Who Family

If I've missed a character out of one of the families let me know (within reason, I imagine all these families are massive in the EU, so prioritise tv or significant characters)

Currently, the only rule is no families may inculde anyone who is even ambiguously The Doctor, it'll get super complicated super fast imo

Any characters, eg River, who can link up multiple different families to create a single massive family unit will be treated on a case by case basis. If it is possible to pick one of the smaller family units that they are a part of to include them in while not including them in any of the others (in a way everyone will agree at least makes sense) they will be included in that family only, otherwise they will not be included

Please bare in mind when you are nominating that I am hoping to keep the number of nominations under 64 to run this as a mini-tournament. This is not a hard rule so if nominations do exceed 64 its not a big deal, just something I'd like everyone to bare in mind

Nominees

Foreman-Campbell (Susan, David, Alex)

Chesterton-Wright (Ian, Barbara, implied to be married after they leave)

McCrimmon (Jamie, Heather, V.M.McCrimmon, various others)

Waterfield (Victoria, Edward (father))

Lethbridge-Stewart (Kate, The Brigadier, Doris (Brig's wife in Battlefield), Archibald Hamish (TUAT), Gordon (Kate's son in Downtime), Kadiatu, The Great Intelligence, Lucy Wilson)

Grant/Jones (Jo, Cliff, Santiago (Jo's grandson in Death of the Doctor))

Smith (Sarah-Jane, Lavinia (aunt), Brendan Richards, Luke, Sky, Mr Smith, K9 (they are her family and I will not be hearing otherwise), Barbara, Eddie (parents in Temptation of Sarah-Jane Smith))

Leela, Andred, Veega, Rayo

Adric and Varsh (brothers)

Nyssa, Tremas, and Kassia (daughter, father, step-mother)

Jovanka (Tegan, Vanessa (aunt in Logopolis), Colin (cousin in Arc of Infinity))

Turlough (Vislor, Malkon (brother in Planet of Fire))

McShane (Ace, Audrey (mother), Kathleen (grandmother), Liam (brother))

Tyler (Rose, Jackie, Pete, Tony (baby mentioned in Journey's End), no I will not be adding the metacrisis to this list)

Another Smith (Mickey, Rita (grandmother))

Slitheen

Harkness (Jack, Grey, parents, Alice Carter (daughter), Steven Carter(grandson))

Isolas (Fear Her)

Jones (Martha, Francine, Clive, Tish, Leo, Leo has a baby as well, Adeola Oshodi)

The Family of Blood

Redfern-Smith (Joan, John (various), possible dream children and grandchildren)

Shafe Kanes (from Utopia, Kristane, Beltone)

Mott-Noble-Temple (Donna, Sylvia, Wilf, Shaun, Rose)

The Adipose

Pond-Williams (Amy, Rory, River, Brian, Anthony, Amy's aunt and parents)

Owens: (Craig, Sophie, Stormageddon Dark Lord of All)

Gillyflower (Mrs Gillyflower, Ada)

Paternoster (Jenny, Vastra, Strax)

Oswald (Clara, Ellie, Dave (parents), grandmother, and I'm going to say Danny makes the cut, Orson)

Potts (Bill, Mother, Moira (foster mother))

O'Brien-Sinclair (Graham, Ryan, Grace, Aaron (Ryan's father))

Khan (Yaz, Najia (mother), Hakim (father), Sonya (sister), Umbreen (grandmother))

Lewis (Dan, Eileen (mother), Neville (father))

Swarm and Azure

Bel, Vinder and their as yet unborn child

Sunday (Ruby, Carla, Cherry, many many foster siblings)

The TARDIS and Lolita

Little House of Cwej

The House of Lungbarrow (Grandfater Paradox, Qenceus, Inocet, various cousins, Irving Braxiatel, Maggie Matsumoto, Ulysses, Penelope GAte, Anna Joyce)

The House of Dvora (Morbius, The War King, Thessalia, Romana, various others)

Langer (Clyde, Carla (mother), Paul (father))

Jackson (Maria, Alan, Chrissie)

Chandra (Rani, Haresh, Gita)

The Wu Diaspora (Cindy Wu and her clones)

Munmeth and Mutmunna (Medicine Man)

Ada and Alice Obiefune

Who (Susan, Barbara, Louise)

Jones-Davies (Ianto, Rhiannon, Johnny, David, Mica)

Summerfield (Bernice, Issac, Claire, Jason Kane, Peter, Wolsey, Keith, Rebecca, Cousin Eliza, Benedict I-IV, Christine)

Miller (Lucie, Pat (aunt))

Schofield (Hex, Cassie, Hilda)

House of Witforge (Narvin, Lenaris, Helico, Narvin's father, Rexin)

Faction Paradox

Pollard (Charley, Louisa, Richard, Margaret, Edward Grove, The Sound Creature)

Mesh Cos, Lon Shel, Julian White Mammoth Tusk

Cooper-Williams (Gwen, Rhys, Anwen, Geraint, Mary (Gwen's parents))

Chenka (Liv, Tula, Kal, Garlon Rosh)

Sinclair (Helen, Albie, Trev Bailey)

Forrester

Proctor (Cleo, Jordan, parents)

Nominations will be open until Midday Friday (03/05, 12:00 BST (GMT/UTC +1)), I will try and give a more specific time then

[ezrawritesthings]

Just A Chapter || Keith Richards

You never actually wanted to divorce him. Hell, you tried to make it work for as long as you could. Talking to Keith used to be easy, you used to be able to understand him. He used to listen. While your family tells you you're too young to be divorced, you know in your heart you're too young to become a widow. Because, surely, his lifestyle will kill him eventually. A/N: she/her pronouns, femme reader. Angst, angst, angst. Pain. Pain. Pain. So much pain. Some smutty bits. Minors DNI.

It was fun at first. Honestly, you and Keith had a lot of good times together. The key difference between you two being that you could keep from having a good time all the time. You were always more mature than him, despite him being a few years older than you. That never seemed to matter in the grand scheme of things.

Keith liked to bring you flowers. He loved to kiss your cheek and push a bouquet of red roses wrapped in cellophane into your hand. He'd call you gorgeous, tell you how beautiful you looked even if you felt like hot shit. No matter how horrendous your new haircuts were, he called you his little trendsetter.

Walking the streets shopping and going about your business had been rough when the paparazzi started hounding you. Especially when Keith was with you. Yet, he taught you how to ignore them, and slowly but surely, you were able to tune out the whole world and only focus on him.

The proposal, in true Keef fashion, had been less than romantic. A night of tearing up a hotel room with the other Stones members and groupies ended with him on top of you in a mattress strewn onto the floor, under a blanket, going at it like wild animals, he'd climaxed holding himself so deep inside of you, you thought a cough might produce his semen in the back of your throat.

"... marry me?"

You had been stuck in your own post-orgasm haze and unsure of what he'd just asked. All you could do was nod at him. You would have married him the first night together if he had asked. All he would have had to do was say it exactly like he just did, and you would have been his wife two years sooner.

Unfortunately, things went progressively downhill after the wedding. There's a lot of fondness in your chest regarding your past and how your relationship started. All the good times, the parties, the candid photos. But when you got pregnant with your first son, Urijah, you decided to stop everything. Drinking, drugs, cigarettes, all of it.

You had a complicated labor with Urijah. Everything that could go wrong indeed went wrong and you thought, you hoped, it would be a wakeup call for Keith. That almost losing you in childbirth would make him go straight. And it did, for three whole months.

Sex became mechanic. It was still good, but you were fighting against the clock to climax before a black tar nod ended your entire night. It started to become embarrassing, making you feel boring or like you lost your sex appeal after bringing his son into the world.

That hurt the most.

Through some miracle, or some poorly timed non-heroin-nodding sex, you ended up pregnant again. When your son Barzillai was born, it was easier, quicker, and you didn't almost die. Yet with a three year old at home and now a newborn, your worries about your marriage only grew.

The worst night of your life was when both of your children caught the flu, and you went downtown to drag Keith out of whatever nod he was in to come home and be a damn father. Mick tried so hard to get you not to knock on that door, not to then open that door. So much so that he stood there feigning shock, trying to pretend he had no idea your husband was balls deep in a blonde you'd never seen before.

There was no words to describe the amount of pain you were in watching your husband get his cock bounced on by someone who wasn't you. It took a solid five seconds for him and his lover to notice you were standing there, and he looked much like a deer in headlights... once he recognized you. How badly you wanted to go postal, but instead, you turned around to kick Mick fucking Jagger right in the balls before you left. Keith chased you, but wasn't smart enough to get into a car and follow you home.

You didn't argue with him when he finally came home. He got on his knees and screamed apologies until he woke both of your children up, only pissing you off further. The distance between you two only grew from that moment, his affairs got more frequent, and he totally stopped trying to have sex with you.

Urijah's eighth birthday was the final straw. He'd shown up shitfaced and fell right into the cake. Snoring as he laid on the table. You swore it would be the last time he humiliated you.

The next day, you started divorce proceedings. The day after that, you moved out and took your sons to live one county over. In hopes that he wouldn't come to find you when he got served. And, somehow, he hadn't. It led you to believe he didn't care.

Today's the big day. Your sunglasses keep your eyes from the flashes of photographers invading your personal space as much as they can. Keith walks next to you, both of you carrying paperwork of various kinds. It's almost over. You don't have to worry about him anymore after just a few more moments of being his wife.

Yet, as you steal glances, you can't help but think he looks... good. That you wouldn't mind trying for a little girl sometime, that he always looked so good in that leather jacket.

Then you remember the blonde. You remember the numbers of groupies and pretty girls he ran through for the past six years or more. And your cunt dries up and you focus on getting into the courthouse.

When he holds the door for you, becoming the dividing line between you and the paparazzi, you almost tell him thank you. But you refuse to speak to him. You haven't said one word to him since you moved out, and you'd like to keep it that way.

But as you trot down the courthouse hallway, Keith grabs your arm and pulls you to face him.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he looks down at you, and you try not to look at him through your sunglasses. But his eyes... they always pulled you in. "Darling, do we have to do this?"

"We already started it," you reply, trying to ignore his grip on your arm. It feels so tender. Like for the first time in oh so very long, he cares for you.

"No, love, you started it."

"I started it?! You... you with your seedy prick and Jack Daniels bottles and needles started it!"

"... okay I suppose I did start it."

You pull away from him and turn to walk away, but he's hot on your trail, jumping in front of you. "Wait! Love, just wait a moment."

"What the hell do you want from me, Keef?! You already took everything! My youth, my love, my sanity!"

"Is... that really how I've gone and made you feel?"

"Yes! Oh sweet merciful God, Keef! I saw you with a whore, then you always came home smelling like whores, when you actually returned home! I've spent years cleaning you up and cleaning up after you so Urijah and Barzillai don't see you like that and all you've done is toss it back in my face! You've taken a massive dump on what we once had! I wanted to be the girl at the end of your story... but I'm just a chapter."

"I don't want you to just be a chapter."

"Too bad! I've mothered your children and that is as far as we'll go together!"

"... yet you're keeping my surname?"

"... I've found it fits me better than my maiden name."

Keith exhales, placing his hands on his hips. The look on his face says he knows you're right. No truer words have ever been spoken and he's to blame for everything. "When I do croak, just know I croaked still in love with you."

And just like that, he's walking back down the hallway. Much like you, he wants this over with as quickly as possible.

When it's all over and you two emerge from the courthouse once more, you're no longer married. Walking down the same steps you once walked down in a pink and white gown when you picked up your marriage certificate, you're no longer the wife of Keith Richards... and for some reason, it hurts more than you expected.

"Keef, wait," you speak to him as he walks ahead of you down the steps. He turns to look at you without saying anything, just giving a nod. "... do you think we did the right thing here?"

"... nope!" The smile he gives you is shit-eating. "Not at all!"

[waugh-bao]

[littlequeenies]

‘I’ve been called a witch, slut, murderer’: the ultra-creative women dismissed as rock star girlfriends

Despite their artistic skill, Anita Pallenberg, Suzi Ronson and Yoko Ono were cast as mere lovers or muses. They're now being allowed to tell their own stories – even if it's after death-Annie ZaleskiTue 21 May 2024 11.46 CEST

In a 2008 interview, Anita Pallenberg swore she would never write her autobiography. The artist, model and actor was weary of publishers who only wanted to read about her intimate dealings with the Rolling Stones – she dated both Brian Jones and Keith Richards, and had an affair with Mick Jagger. “They all wanted salacious,” she said then. “And everybody is writing autobiographies and that’s one reason why I’m not going to do it.”

Yet when Pallenberg died in 2017, she left behind pages of a neatly typed manuscript, titled Black Magic, that contained her life story. True to form, she characterised these memoirs as “memory images, a traveller’s tale through a landscape of dreams and shadows” rather than an autobiography. But she held little back while chronicling her spirited and frequently tumultuous life, quipping: “I don’t think the lawyers will like it very much.”Read in a narration by Scarlett Johansson, her unpublished words are the backbone of a compelling new documentary, Catching Fire: The Story of Anita Pallenberg. Kate Moss celebrates her as “the original bohemian rock chick that people still aspire to today” but more valuable is Pallenberg reframing her legacy on her own terms from beyond the grave. “I’ve been called a witch, a slut, a murderer. I’ve been hounded by the police and slandered in the press,” she wrote, before adding, “But I don’t need to settle scores. I’m reclaiming my soul.”Given how much ink has been spilt on the Stones over the years, it’s refreshing to hear Pallenberg share her own perspective on her experiences. She’s not the only high-profile rock girlfriend now getting a chance to tell their own story, asserting their place in, and influence on, male-dominated music culture.

Suzi Ronson, who was married to the guitarist Mick Ronson, just released a candid memoir, Me and Mr Jones: My Life with David Bowie and the Spiders from Mars, that’s a clear-eyed look at rock star mythology. Pattie Boyd, married to both George Harrison and Eric Clapton, was interviewed in 2018 by Taylor Swift for Harper’s Bazaar (“George and Eric had an inability to communicate their feelings through normal conversation,” Boyd said, “I became a reflection for them”) and this year she eloquently reminisced as she auctioned her memorabilia, including love letters from Clapton and handwritten Harrison lyrics, for a staggering £2,818,184. “The letters from Eric – they’re so desperate and passionate, a passion that blooms once in a lifetime,” she said. “They’re too painful in their beauty.”

Tate Modern, in London, is meanwhile celebrating Yoko Ono with a career-spanning exhibition, Yoko Ono: Music of the Mind – a pointed reminder that Ono’s artistic collaboration with John Lennon was only a relatively brief part of her career. It shows how her artistry spans theatre, writing and music, but also how it makes space for her story to change over time – for example, the various performances of Cut Piece across the decades – and for others’ perspectives. Take Ono’s 1964 artist’s book Grapefruit, which uses short, abstract action items (“Imagine the clouds dripping. Dig a hole in your garden to put it in”) to generate a huge potential variety of creative responses.

Among those was Lennon’s Imagine. In a 1980 BBC interview, Lennon said Grapefruit provided “the lyric and the concept” of the song, but Ono didn’t receive a songwriting credit until 2017 even though Lennon was aware of the oversight in his lifetime. “But those days I was a bit more selfish, a bit more macho,” he told the BBC, “and I sort of omitted to mention her contribution.”

Pallenberg, too, served as inspiration for Rolling Stones songs such as Gimme Shelter. But Catching Fire reinforces the idea that even if sexism meant she was underestimated by the public, she wasn’t a passive presence or muse. “Neither Anita nor I wanted to be with them because we wanted some of their power,” Marianne Faithfull says in voiceover – she was in the band’s orbit alongside Pallenberg owing to a relationship with Jagger. “We had our own power.”

Faithfull’s power was her own music career; Pallenberg, who spoke several languages and worked as a model, influenced the Stones’ look. (“I started to become a fashion icon for wearing my old lady’s clothes,” Richards quipped in his bookLife.) And she refused to rearrange her life for the Stones. “No girls were allowed in the studio when they were recording,” she said. “You weren’t allowed even to ring. I did other things; I didn’t sit at home.” She maintained an acting career, notably in 1968’s movie Barbarella and 1970’s Performance – though her voice was dubbed out in the former: you wonder whether her “muse” tag meant casting directors underestimated her.

Suzi Ronson, a colour-loving hair wizard who brought David Bowie’s tomato-red Ziggy Stardust coif to life, also took a different path from other women of her time. She left a steady job and went on the road, steering the Ziggy Stardust tour aesthetic by handling hair, makeup, and other tasks.

Me and Mr Jones illuminates her part in helping Bowie crystallise his vision – and shows how fame and rock stardom corrupt. On a Mott the Hoople tour, she seethes while Mick, cozying up to a baroness, orders Suzi to find his hairbrush, treating her like an assistant rather than a girlfriend. It wasn’t the only time she was underestimated. “I’m now the pathetic girlfriend, clinging on to my man, a position I never thought I’d find myself in,” she writes after joining Mick on tour with Bob Dylan for a few days, after not being invited. “I try to be understanding, but truthfully I’m infuriated at being left out.”

These new works also highlight how each woman, at a time when women struggled to “have it all”, cultivated agency through one of the only paths open to them: motherhood. Rather than being something limiting, becoming mothers allowed them to reinvent their lives. Suzi Ronson, long out of Bowie’s orbit and living in England with her parents after giving birth, reflects that “the life I created for myself has disappeared, and my career with it,” she writes, but her daughter brings joy and solace – and encourages her to stay optimistic and keep striving for a unique path. “As I push her around the same streets my mother used to push me, I swear to her: this isn’t going to be it, and I pray I’m right.” Ronson closes the loop by noting that she and Mick return to the US, living in the singer Maria Muldaur’s house and finding equilibrium.

Ono confronted motherhood’s messiness. Her installation My Mommy Was Beautiful used photos of breasts and vaginas to demystify birth and celebrate the strength of the body, and the 1969 song Don’t Worry Kyoko (Mummy’s Only Looking for a Hand in the Snow) – which Yoko wrote for her young daughter Kyoko – conveys primal agony and frustration. “Society’s myth is that all women are supposed to love having children,” Ono said in 1981. “But that was a myth. So there was Kyoko, and I did become attached to her and had great love for her, but at the same time, I was still struggling to get my own space in the world. I felt that if l didn’t have room for myself, how could I give room to another human being?”

Pallenberg also navigates this conundrum. Jake Weber, the actor son of notorious Stones associate Tommy Weber, becomes visibly emotional when talking about how “generous and funny” Pallenberg was to him after his mother died in 1971, during the Stones’ debauched French summer. “She filled a vacuum of a surrogate parent,” he said. “She was lovely like that. Her thing was trying to give us joy.” Catching Fire also visits the agonising fallout of the sudden June 1976 death of Pallenberg’s 10-week-old son Tara.

Pallenberg has the last word in Catching Fire, and her conclusion illustrates the importance of women directing their own narratives. “Writing this has helped me emerge in my own eyes,” she noted. “Reading over what I’ve written, I get a lump in my throat. But it doesn’t need to be a doom and gloom kind of story.” The film makes it clear that Pallenberg’s chief power was, ultimately, resilience, which she needed during an often-challenging life (she lived with various addictions, including to heroin and alcohol) and several tragic events, such as when a 17-year-old shot and killed himself in Richards’ bed.

“I felt like some nasty person who caused death and destruction around her,” Pallenberg said after the 1979 incident, but Catching Fire refuses to let Pallenberg become a tragic figure or cautionary tale. The film ends noting that she got sober, graduated from college, and aged with iconoclastic gusto. The lessons are clear – redemption is possible and we are not our worst moments – while also reinforcing what we miss when women’s voices are silenced or ignored. Catching Fire: The Story of Anita Pallenberg, directed by Alexis Bloom and Svetlana Zill is in UK and Irish cinemas now

[bargainoriley]

Inside Out by Nick Mason chapter 4

Sorry for not posting more about this book! I lost the motivation to read a few days back but am now continuing on reading! Here are my fav moments from chapter 4…

This opening paragraph is kind of funny imo… just imagining Nick sidling up like that is pretty funny (I love the words he uses here)

This is so sad and heartbreaking… also so cold, damn…

I love how Steve is described here! I already like his attitude

The Shadeeee by Nick here toward Roger💀

Here are some more insane shenanigans courtesy of Pink Floyd!

TEAR GAS??? God… what is up with crowds beating each other up at Pink Floyd concerts?? I would’ve expected this from the Who or the Stones…

I just love the visual imagery; You can imagine their mannerisms so well with the words Nick chose here… Especially Roger! Also love the image of Rick playing like Little Richard! Hilarious!!! And the little description of Roger…

I love how Nick tells us the recording process of A Saucerful of Secrets in general with this chapter… and specifically this part has such good imagery…

This feels like a movie! Levels of drama unseen…

Love Nick‘s witty little comment at the end!

These anecdotes about their 1968 tour of America are so unbelievably cool and fascinating!! Them holding a radio show with Keith Moon, Pete Townshend giving Nick advice, Jimi Hendrix giving them free equipment… so cool!!!

Oh my god??? I’m so concerned about this… his electric shock sounds really nasty…

[ego-osbourne]

The Dez Illusion / Salt in the Wound Voice Claims

THE VOICE CLAIMS ARE FINISHED FINALLY

This has been in the works for a loooong time. The hardest part was finding these DAMNED VOICES. By FAR the hardest voice to find was Rakell’s, but his game out very nicely!

Here’s some general notes I have for everyone, if you wanna read.

Erandur (Keith Szarabajka) - (TDI / SITW) No issues with his original VA. Gruff but very sweet and comforting.

Serana (Laura Bailey) - (TDI / SITW) Again, no issues with her original VA. Blunt and sassy, very capable of dry humor.

Miraak (Peter Jessop) - (TDI / SITW) I couldn’t not use his original voice, it’s just so dramatic and grumpy.

Sanguine (William Salyers) - (TDI / SITW) Originally went looking for a more smooth-talking, charming voice, but nothing I found could quite keep the same level of mischief that his og voice had. So, while I think the perfect voice is out there somewhere, og voice is still wonderful.

Ancano (Alexander Brandon) - (TDI / SITW) Love his og voice, it’s so pompous and entitled. In a perfect world I would be able to find something like this with a sailor/pirate accent, but this is pretty close.

Ego (Dan Avidan) - (TDI / SITW) When first starting this project, a bunch of buddies told me that Dan Avidan fit their voice, and it just kinda stuck lol. I think Dan’s voice works especially well in SITW, the only thing I could ask more from it is if it matched Erandur’s accent a little. But, it still adds a lovely charm and goofiness that Ego definitely needs!

Rakell (Grahame Fox) - (TDI / SITW) Like I said, my buddies and I went through a LOT of grief trying to find the right voice for him. He probably went through the most changes, from Stoic (HTTYD) to Sir Gideon Ofnir (Elden Ring). Eygon ended up being the perfect fit, with as low and growls as he was.

Iren (Richard Schiff) - (pre-TDI) What a wonderfully soothing voice, made specially to lull you into a false sense of security, but bleeding with wisdom.

Velehk Sain (Josh Keaton) - (TDI / SITW) A good commanding voice, though aired with a type of softness that he can’t seem to loose, like he’s trained his voice to be authoritative but it doesn’t always hit the mark. When it’s soft, it sounds the most natural. My only wishes are that his voice was a tad bit higher and had a pirate inflection.

Caspian (Johnny Depp) - (SITW) Wild, loud, and slurred, Captain Jack just worked so very well for Caspian.

Kyrahk (Scott Porter) - (SITW) The perfect level of arrogance, perfect vocabulary, perfect speed. His voice only throws me off because I wish it sounded a bit older or lower.

Molag Bal (Graham McTavish) - (TDI / SITW) Ironic that a vampire would voice the father of all vampires. Perfect all around, being dark, broody, and ever-intimidating, and sounds damn good when annoyed!

Mehrunes Dagon (Christopher Judge) - (TDI / SITW) Low, wise, blunt, and intimidating, very perfect for Dagon. I only wish he had a better yelling voice. While Kratos’ yells are short and change his tone, I always imagined Dagon’s yells as long and rumbly.

Hermaeus Mora (Dee Bradley Baker) - (TDI / SITW) This voice is the stuff of nightmares. Glorious.

Sheogorath (Wes Johnson) - (TDI / SITW) HE’S SHEOGORATH BABY!!

Vaermina (Ellen McLain) - (TDI) Proper and highly sassy, cruel and cold, but always sounding lovely. My only wish was to get rid of the robotic effect a little—not fully.

[therobertfrasergang]

Robert Fraser and Mick Jagger, 1968

Photo by Michael Joseph The Rolling Stones were photographed at the historic Sarum Chase Estate in West London and Swarkestone Hall Pavillion in Derbyshire. England on June 7 and 8 1968. The band had been driven up to the castle from London in limos to shoot the cover of their seventh album, Beggars Banquet with photographer Michael Joseph.

According to Keith Richards, the title Beggars Banquet was imagined by British art dealer (and close friend of Fraser) Christopher Gibbs.

Here is Joseph's account of the interior photo shoot (Guardian article).

From The London Magazine:

"That the Rolling Stones were enjoying the process of working with Joseph is borne out by Mick Jagger inviting Joseph and his girlfriend at the end of the first day to travel to the next day’s location in his car. ‘He has two jump seats in his Daimler,’ Joseph recalls, ‘and most of the two hour journey up the newly opened M1 was spent racing the rest of the band in a similar Daimler to Swarkestone Hall Pavilion!’ The seventeenth-century pavilion stands in a large field called The Cuttle near the ruins of Swarkestone Hall. The exact purpose of the building is a subject of conjecture but it may have been a grandstand, summerhouse, or appropriately for the shoot a banqueting house. In racing to the location they arrived quite a while before Crier who was travelling in a van with both the Sinar camera and the props for the shoot. The bonhomie continued as Joseph explains that he was, ‘immensely pleased how co-operative everyone was in shooting numerous little cameos with my Hasselblad, which I thought could be useful, but were also to keep the Stones occupied whilst we waited as I felt if given a chance they may scarper to a local pub and never come out!’"

Presumably this shot of Fraser and Jagger was part of the "cameo photos".

[ohjohnnysblog]

Open for Prompt Requests

I appear to have lost my imagination, or mojo or something *shrug* I've been trying to come up with ideas for writing and I'm drawing blanks.

So, I'm taking requests. Beatles (any pairing) but also any Keith Richards, especially Keith/John Lennon and Keith/Chatlie Watts. Any rating.

I will do my best to write for any and all prompts.

Thank you.