#diana ross full

[michaelsfavgirl]

crestfallen

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: After Michael cheats on you with Diana Ross you cross paths again at the Grammy's.

Tags: angst, infidelity, hurt no comfort.

Word Count: 2k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: this is my first time writing angst so be nice pls

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

You step onto the Grammy's red carpet, and instantly, the paparazzi swarm like bees to honey. Their voices blend into a cacophony of shouts, yells, and screams, all clamoring for your attention. "Over here! Look this way! Smile for us!" they cry, their cameras flashing relentlessly, each burst of light illuminating the chaos around you. The flashes are blinding, but you've long grown accustomed to the relentless barrage of attention. You've been in this spotlight for years, and it's become a part of your reality.

Every step you take is deliberate, graceful, as if you're gliding across the red carpet with the effortless elegance of a swan. The eyes of the world are upon you, and you know they're scrutinizing your every move, every detail of your appearance. But you don't falter. You maintain your composure, your facade of perfection.

Yet beneath the surface, turmoil and heartbreak churns within you, a storm raging in the depths of your soul. It's a feeling you've grown all too familiar with, a constant companion in the midst of fame and adulation. The memory of betrayal lingers like a shadow.

The world sees only the polished exterior, the flawless face of success and glamour. But they don't know the pain that lies beneath, the wound that refuses to heal, the shattered love and broken promises.

The memory of him lingers like a bittersweet melody, haunting your thoughts even as you walk the red carpet. Michael was your everything, the center of your world, until he wasn't. 

��

You sit on the edge of the bed, the soft sheets beneath you offering little comfort as your heart aches with betrayal. Michael kneels before you, his grip on your knees tight, as if he fears you'll vanish into thin air if he lets go. His eyes, usually so warm and full of love, are now red and swollen with tears, mirroring the pain in your own.

Tears blur your vision, despite your best efforts to hold them back. You never thought you'd find yourself in this position, confronted with the harsh reality of infidelity in your own home, in your own bed. It's a betrayal that cuts to the core, leaving you feeling hollow and broken.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Michael whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I-I never meant to hurt you, I swear." Apologies fall from his lips in a desperate stream, each word laden with remorse and regret. But you can't bring yourself to listen, can't bear to hear his excuses and justifications. You thought he was better than this, thought he was a good man. But now, all you see is the shattered remains of the man you once loved.

Finally finding your voice, you cut him off with a quiet, trembling whisper. "How long?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. The silence that follows is deafening, heavy with shame and guilt. Michael hangs his head low, unable to meet your gaze, and your heart clenches with the realization that this betrayal has been going on for much longer than you anticipated.

"Speak up," you demand, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. Michael mutters something almost inaudible, and you lean in closer, your heart pounding in your chest. "Four months," he finally admits, and the weight of his words crushes you like a ton of bricks.

You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you. You swallow hard, pushing back the tears threatening to spill over. And then, with a strength you didn't know you possessed, you meet his gaze, your eyes cold and distant.

"You don't love me," you say softly, the words heavy with resignation. It's not a question, but a statement of fact, a bitter truth that you can no longer deny.

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself against the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Four months. Four months of lies and deceit, all hidden behind a facade of love and devotion.

Michael shakes his head and reaches out to you, his hand trembling as he tries to wipe away your tears. "No, no, that's not true baby i-," he insists, but you pull away, unable to bear the touch of his hand against your skin.

You glare at him, anger burning hot in your chest as he tries to defend himself, but you cut him off with a sharp raise of your voice. "If you loved me, if you respected me, you would have never done such a thing," you say, your words laced with bitterness and hurt. He swallows hard, his eyes dropping to the floor as he takes in the full extent of the pain he's caused you.

A heavy silence hangs between you, broken only by the sound of your ragged breathing. You watch as he struggles to find the right words, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. But you know there's nothing he can say to make this right, nothing he can do to erase the betrayal that now stains your relationship.

With a trembling voice, you speak again, your words barely above a whisper. "I always knew," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "I always knew that you loved her more than you could ever love me." His silence is deafening, confirming the painful truth that has been gnawing at your heart for far too long.

Tears blur your vision as you continue, your voice shaking with anger and sadness. "But I never expected you to be such a coward," you say, each word a dagger aimed straight at his heart. "To go behind my back and fuck her like some pathetic mutt." He stays silent, knowing better than to argue with you. 

You roughly push his hands away from your knees, the contact suddenly feeling suffocating and unbearable. Without another word, you stand up, your legs shaking beneath you as you take a step back. "Don't ever contact me again," you say, your voice cold and final.

–

“Hey, are you alright?.” You sit in the crowded room, surrounded by the glitz and glamour of the ceremony. Your manager, seated beside you, leans in and asks. 

“Yeah, yeah..I’m fine.” You nod, offering a small, strained smile as you try to push aside the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. The truth is, you're anything but alright. But you can't let anyone see that, not here, not now.

Your thoughts drift as the ceremony progresses, the familiar rhythm of the event lulling you into a state of detachment. But then, a name is announced, and your breath catches in your throat. Michael. He's won an award for "We Are the World" As you watch him take the stage, a pang of nostalgia washes over you, mingled with a hint of bitterness.

His smile, the same smile he used to give you, sends a shiver down your spine. You quickly avert your gaze, not wanting anyone to notice the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm you. Your eyes wander, landing on Diana. You can't help but feel a surge of resentment toward her.

But you push those thoughts aside, unwilling to let them sour your mood any further. Instead, you turn your attention back to Michael, just in time to catch his gaze. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes lock with his, his big, beautiful brown eyes, and for a moment, it's as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you.

He stumbles over his words, drawing a chuckle from the audience. They think it's nerves, but you know the truth. He's stumbled because he's seen you, because he's still affected by you after all this time. Shamelessly, he keeps his eyes locked on yours throughout his speech, and you can't help but feel a flutter of something deep within you. Though not enough to mirror his.

As he finishes his speech, his eyes still locked on yours, his words send a jolt of electricity through your veins. "And lastly I want to thank the one I love most," he says, his gaze unwavering as he looks directly at you. The audience assumes he's talking about Diana, but you know better. You scoff inwardly, knowing that his words are meant for you and you alone. 

You make your way through the throngs of people. The ceremony is over, but the weight of what just transpired hangs heavy on your shoulders. As you approach your waiting limo, you can sense someone running after you. Your heartbeat quickens, but you refuse to slow down or halt your steps. Then, you hear his voice calling out to you.

“Wait! Please, slow down.”

Despite your best efforts to ignore him, he manages to catch up to you, gently grabbing your arm. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, his skin so soft and familiar. But you push aside those thoughts, refusing to let them overpower you.

With a quick motion, you take your arm out of his grasp, treating him as if he's a stranger to you. The hurt is evident in his eyes as he opens his mouth a few times, struggling to find the right words.

Finally, he sighs and simply says, "I'm sorry." His voice is soft, almost pleading, but you remain silent, blankly staring at him. 

He continues after the awkward silence, admitting that you were right, that he was pathetic for what he did. "I wasn't in love with Diana," he confesses. "I was in love with the idea of her in my mind. But I've realized now that I've only ever loved one person so deeply, and that's you."

His words hang in the air, heavy with emotion. He pours out his heart, apologizing profusely, again and again, his breath picking up, tears threatening to spill over his eyes. His hands tremble, itching to touch you again, to hold you close. You can tell he's being genuine, but your face remains emotionless, betraying nothing.

After he's done with his monologue, you take a deep breath and nod, giving him a small glimmer of hope. But then, you shatter it with your next words. "okay…I don't forgive you," you state calmly, firmly. 

He tries to argue, to plead his case, but you shut him down with a simple, "I hear you, but I still don't forgive you."

You look him up and down one last time, taking in every detail. "I wish you all the best," you say quietly, before turning and walking away, leaving him more broken than he was before.

There's a moment of silence as he processes your words, his expression crestfallen. 

His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his heart pounding against his ribs as if it might stop any second. His hand trembles as he presses it against his chest, trying to calm the frantic beat. But the realization that you're driving away, that you're never coming back, settles in like a heavy weight on his chest.

He backs himself against a nearby wall, his knees unable to support him any longer. He slides down, his back hitting the cold surface, his legs sprawled out in front of him. The tears he's been holding back finally break free, tracing a salty path down his cheeks. It feels like his whole world is collapsing around him, the only person who's truly cared for him now gone because of his own stupidity.

His face feels hot with embarrassment and shame. His clothes suddenly feel too tight, constricting his every movement. The street lights overhead seem blindingly bright, casting harsh shadows on the pavement below. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming sensory input.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can't escape the suffocating feeling of loss that grips him. It's like a vice around his chest, squeezing tighter with each passing second. He feels like he can't breathe, like the air around him is too thick to inhale. All he can do is sit there, consumed by his own despair, wishing he could turn back time and make things right. But he knows it's too late for that now. You're gone, and he's left alone to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @anivkye @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

What song did you personally like the best out of this round? Did a song make an impact right away or did it require the full version? Did the artist reveal change your opinion for better or for worse? Tell me in a reblog! :D

(note: this is not a popularity contest or to vote for a favourite artist out of loyalty 💖 it's still about the song.)

241 here 242 here 243 here 244 here 245 here 246 here 247 here 248 here 249 here 250 here

[byuljoonie]

Never Goodbye // myg

It’s never goodbye, I’ll always see you again…

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: one shot, angst, fluff, quick smut, rash decisions

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of mental health, mentions of past SH/scars, sad-ish smut, d-day tour, swearing, almost oral (m4f), dom!suga sub!reader, unsafe sẽx, creampie, fluff if you hate fluff.

note: My depression has been hitting so hard lately. I will re-edit tomorrow, I’m exhausted and can’t double check tonight. I love Min Yoongi, I will backflip for him. In all honesty, when Yoongi did his first live since being gone for a while, I ugly sobbed over my iPad. I missed him so much and the thought of him leaving shook me to my core lmao. Though I’m overdramatic, I am a proud military wife for 3 so far of 7 husbands. Enjoy the one shot and feel free to submit requests to the link in my bio, and listen to some of my playlists also in the bio. I will post Ramo Buchón and this story on Ao3 next week. -dubu

I stood in the dimly lit record store, surrounded by rows upon rows of vinyl records, each a portal to a different musical era. I held in my hand the debit card my thoughtful boyfriend, Yoongi, had given me to use this afternoon. He had gifted me a beautiful scarlet record player, and now I was on a mission to fill it with music.

The store was a treasure trove of musical history. Rows of records stretched out in every direction, organized meticulously by genre and artist. I traced my fingers along the spines, feeling the nostalgia emanating from each one. Rock, jazz, classical, pop – it was all there, waiting to be explored.

My indecisiveness was palpable as I contemplated my choices. I would pick up one vinyl, then another, carefully examining the album artwork and reading the tracklist. Yoongi had given me complete freedom to choose, and I wanted to make sure every selection was perfect.

In the midst of my contemplation, my thoughts drifted to Yoongi. I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the way he had surprised me with the record player earlier. It was clear that he knew just how much I loved music like him, and he wanted to share that passion with me.

As I continued browsing, my eyes suddenly lit up when I spotted the records I had been searching for. There, among the vast collection, were albums by Queen, Mac Miller, Lee Moonsae, and Diana Ross – artists whose music had shaped my life. I felt a rush of excitement as I reached for each of them, holding them close as if they were precious treasures.

With a heart full of gratitude for Yoongi's thoughtful gift and a bag full of vinyl records, I headed to the checkout counter. I knew that each record I had chosen would be a soundtrack to special moments shared with Yoongi, and that made the indecisiveness and the joy of discovery all the more worthwhile.

My collection is finally growing again and I’m so grateful to him. I checked out quickly, holding a brief conversation with the nice blue-haired woman at the counter. Thanking god for the half empty store, I stepped out into the cold air. I called a taxi on my phone and waited the everlasting 10 minutes as I nearly froze in place.

The sleek navy-blue car pulled in front of the little store, a middle aged man stepping out of the drivers side to open the door for me. I thanked him as he grabbed my bag and set it in the trunk for me. The short drive back to our apartment was quiet, the hum of NPR coming from the radio piercing the silence. The heater blowing directly at me.

We pulled up to the tall building hurrying so I can escape the cold air. I grabbed my bag from the man and tipped him extra for his generosity and service. I scanned into the building making my way to the elevators past the front desk. After I exited the elevators I grew more excited to see Yoongi. I skipped happily to our door, putting in the key code.

I’m greeted by the smell of air freshener and our puppy running up to me. Excitedly licking my hand and wagging his tail. I closed the door setting my bag on the small table near it and then taking off my shoes.

“Hi baby!” I said cheerfully looking at Yoongi as he walked over to me. He grabbed my waist and placed a kiss on my check, making his way down to my neck. Resting his head on my shoulder as he held me. I felt like putty in his palm, moving to grab his face and plant a kiss on his lips.

He hummed into the kiss, letting his hands sneak around my waist to my ass. I giggled and pushed him away immediately, missing the feeling of his hands on me already. He pained a hurt expression and I gave him a knowing look. He was supposed to be packing but the laundry basket I left him to sort through seemed to be almost untouched as it sat idle by our sofa.

“Min Yoongi why is your laundry still folded neatly in that basket?” I questioned pointing to his clothes and resting a hand on my hip. “I needed a break,” he said nonchalantly, walking to go sit back on the sofa. He was precious but we have things to do and I can’t let his cuteness distract me. I grabbed my shopping bag from the table and walked over to Yoongi, sitting on his lap so I could show him the merchandise.

“Let me show you what I bought and then I’ll go start on dinner while you actually pack,” I said smiling at the way he rested his hands on my thighs. I took the vinyls out of the bag, setting the first two on the sofa cushion next to us.

“First I got this classic Diana Ross record, but I can’t hold in my excitement anymore!” I said grabbing the Mac Miller record and handing it to Yoongi. I watched as his eyes light up in excitement. “I know I was supposed to be shopping for me but I couldn’t help myself.” I said starting to tear up. I didn’t want to cry but the emotions are hitting hard, Yoongi leaves in a few days.

“Thank you so much baby I love it,” he said setting the record aside to kiss me softly. Yoongi sighed as he stared down at me on his lap. I noticed the worry in his eyes and sat up placing a hand on his cheek. “Are you okay my love?” I probed gently.

“It’s just…I can’t help but worry about leaving you alone again while I go on tour. Your depression and anxiety, I’m afraid they might worsen, and I won’t be there to help you when you need me the most,” Yoongi said staring deeply into my glossy eyes.

I smiled warmly at his confession, cupping his face in my hands. “Min Yoongi, it’s so easy to see why your parents named you light. You’ve helped me through so much already, you are my light. I’ve learned so much from you about handling my emotions, and even on my worst days, just a phone call with you can calm me down. I’ll be okay baby, I promise,” I choked out.

Yoongi looked at me for a second, seemingly analyzing me. He nodded slowly pulling me into a tight hug. “I know you’ve grown stronger, but I can’t help but worry. You mean the world to me Y/N,” he said as I buried my face in his neck.

“And you mean the world to me too, Yoongi. We’ll get through this together, just like we always do.” I said hugging him tighter. We stayed in our embrace for a while, finding comfort in each others presence. Eventually I break the hug and get up to go make dinner, while Yoongi starts to sort through his laundry basket.

“I guess I’ll actually start getting my things in order,” he mumbled to himself with a huff. He stood up flinging open his suitcases, and throwing in a few items he eyeballed. I giggled at how unenthusiastic he was being.

“I’ll help you pack after dinner Yoongs, you know I have to double check and make sure you have everything you’ll need.” I said busying myself at the stove. After I mixed the pasta, I told Yoongi to set the table while I change and I’d be right back.

I retreated to our bedroom, eager to change into my comfortable pajamas. As I shed my days attire and donned my soft, oversized pjs, my eyes involuntarily drifted to the prominent scars that crisscrossed my body, momentos of a harrowing time that altered my life.

A wave of sadness washed over me, recalling the challenges in my journey to recovery. Moments of doubt crept in, but just as I was about to get lost in my melancholic thoughts, I heard Yoongi’s voice gently calling me from the dining area.

“Babe come on I’m hungry and your food smells too good,” he whined cutely as I walked into the dining room. I placed some pasta in his plate and sat in the chair across from him, unconsciously tugging at the short sleeves on my shirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Yoongi hummed in delight at the taste of the cream pasta, and I quietly chewed along. It didn’t take long for us to finish our meal, I stood up making my way to the sink, grabbing the dishes from the table. I started washing dishes, mindlessly humming one of Yoongi’s songs.

“Why’re you so quiet tonight sweetheart?” Yoongi questioned as he walked up behind me. I felt his hands wrap around my waist, he then pulled me flush against him. “Talk to me Y/N,” he said in my ear, leaving a soft lingering kiss behind.

“I’m sorry I just don’t feel the best, honestly, I feel like a burden. All these ugly scars already make me feel less than, but the thought of me holding you back from doing what you love pains me the most, Yoongi,” I said nervously, melting into his embrace.

Suddenly Yoongi unraveled his arms, reaching around me to turn the faucet off. I turned around to face him, confusion flooding my features. He gently placed his hands on my face, searching my eyes for an unknown answer.

“Will you let me show you how much I love you Y/N?” He asked. I nodded slowly, bringing my hand up to touch his that rested on my cheek. He leaned down to place a kiss on my lips, hovering close after he pulled apart.

We walked hand in hand to the bedroom, closing the door behind us. Yoongi guided me over to our bed, helping me up onto the tall mattress. He climbed onto the bed, gently pushing me to lay down flat on my back.

“With every piece of clothing I remove from your body, I’ll leave a trace of me behind. You deserve to know how gorgeous you are Y/N, how utterly irresistible and perfect you are. Every piece of you that you view as an imperfection, I view as another reason to love you.” Yoongi said removing his black shirt from his toned figure.

He removed his shorts, carelessly tossing them to some shadow realm. He looped his fingers under my, formally his, oversized shirt, pulling it over my head in one swift motion.

He stared at my exposed chest for a second, eyes flickering back to mine every so often. He then leaned down, placing a trail of kisses down my neck, and stopping when he reached my collar bone.

He started leaving behind love bites, sucking and licking at the quick forming bruises. I hissed in pleasure as his tongue felt like pure ecstasy, sighing at the way he took my nipple into his mouth.

He looked up at me through hooded eyes, staring at me intensely as he massaged and sucked my breasts. I moaned his name quietly, wrapping my legs around his torso as he moved his attention to the other side.

He made his way down my exposed front, leaving no inch of skin without a trace of his love, or tongue. He moved further down the bed, hooking his fingers under the band of my flower covered panties.

His eyes never left my face, he smirked as I watch him in anticipation. Stomach quickly rising and falling with every nervous breath. He pulled them down my legs painfully slow, I shivered as the cold air hit my exposed clit. He’s barely touched me and I’m already a soaking mess.

He placed a kiss on my left hip bone, massaging the right one with a free hand. He kissed his way down until he hovered over my center, watching the way my eyes drank in his sinful appearance. I could feel the warmth of his breath hitting my core, causing an accidental whine to escape my pouty lips.

He let out a breathy chuckle before placing a kiss on my clit. That earned another moan from me as well as a tight grip on the rappers long hair. He sat up suddenly, receiving a look of disappointment from me. “I can’t wait any longer pumpkin, I need to fill you up like the good girl you are. Gonna make you cry for a much better reason than before.” Yoongi said tossing his boxers to the side and rubbing his length against my pussy, I squirmed in anticipation.

I felt his tip probe at my entrance, his length slowly being engulfed into the hot, soft cavern. I gasped at the intrusion, squeezing Yoongi’s arm as he began to move slowly. With every thrust I clenched harder, scratching down his back as he loving fucked me into oblivion.

“I can never get enough of you princess,” Yoongi grunted out as he sped up his rhythmic movements. “This is my pussy baby you’re mine, all mine, and no one else’s.” He growled eyes darkening with pleasure.

“hmfp I…I’m all yours Yoongi all yours please please fuck me just like that,” I stuttered out, crying as my body grew sore with the force of Yoongi’s hips slamming into mine. I enjoyed every second of this painful pleasure, yanking him by the neck down to my mouth. Lewd noises echoed through our apartment, a melody of wet sounds and heavy breathing reverberating off the walls of our bedroom.

I screamed in pleasure as Yoongi reached down and started furiously rubbing my swollen clit. “Fuck down on me Y/N, let the neighbors hear all those pretty noises you make. Tell me how much you love this dick baby it’s all yours,” he said hotly leaving a trail of wet kisses down my neck.

“It’s mine oh f…fuck Yoongi I can’t take it, I want you to cum inside me please. N…need you to fill me up so I can fully be yours,” I choked out in between sobs. Before I could react the bed shook with extreme force, Yoongi unbelievably fucking me deeper, lifting my hips off the bed and squeezing my bruised hips.

I felt his dick pulsate inside me, indicating he was just as close as I was. “Fuck…cum with me baby,” he grunted out head rolling back in pleasure as his pace slowed. I felt his warm cum shoot inside me, I shook furiously hips spazzing as Yoongi gently set me down. He wiped my tears as I exhaustedly went limp, too tired to get another word out.

“I hope you know I’m going to think about this all the time while I’m gone,” Yoongi said grabbing some water from his bedside table to give to me. I mustered the courage to sit up and graciously take the water, passing him the rest after I finished. He leaned over and placed another kiss on my lips, holding me in his arms as he quietly talked me into a restful sleep.

Yoongi stood by the door, his bags packed and ready for the waiting vehicle outside. I watched him, my eyes brimming with emotions as he turned to face me.

“Y/N, I wish I didn’t have to leave without you, but I know how important your work is to you. I promise I’ll try to call you everyday, no matter the time difference,” he said softly.

“I know Yoongs, but I’m going to miss you so so much,” I said voice quivering as I struggled to keep my composure. My body shook with sadness, shoulders slouching in defeat. Yoongi cupped my face in his hands and gently wiped away my tears.

“Hey look at me, beautiful. I want you to know that no matter where I am, my heart is always with you. If you ever need anything, if you’re feeling down, just call me and I’ll answer in a heartbeat. I would fly across the country in seconds to get to you my love. I might not say it enough, but you mean everything to me Y/N there is no me without you. You’re my inspiration, my strength, and my love.” He confessed, his eyes holding a depth of emotion he often struggled to express.

“I love you too Yoongi, more than words can say,” I said while sniffling. Yoongi smiled at me through glossy eyes, clearly trying to hold it together for me. “Actions speak volumes, right? I’ll prove it to you everyday I’m away. This tour won’t change how I feel about you, and it damn sure won’t change us.” He said pulling me into another tight embrace. A car horn could be heard impatiently honking in the background.

“Goodbye my love,” I said smiling through my tears.

“It’s never goodbye, I’ll always see you again darling.”

[stargazer-sims]

Count On Me

Like your favourite chair, I'll hold you close whether you lose or win. I'm that breath of air flowing out and flowing right back in. I hope you know that I am here, always close and always near.

♫ Count on Me - Diana Ross ♫

_______________

This will make more sense if you've already read Full Circle and Broken Glass

CONTENT WARNING - violence, death

_______________

"Ugh... I suck." Fox sinks onto his sister's couch with all the grace of a seal flopping onto a beach rock. He leans his head against one of the decorative cushions on the back of of the sofa and lets out a groan. "I never imagined I'd screw up a conversation so much. And with my own kid, no less."

Now that he's calm, he realizes how exhausted he is. He navigates difficult situations all the time at work with kids in care, biological parents, foster parents, and professionals connected to each of his clients, but none of those interactions ever seem to drain him as much as this one conversation with his teenage son has.

He'd shared everything with Clancy in the car on the way over to her house, all about his confrontation with Forest and what had led up to it in the first place, and about his frustration and sense of inadequacy to handle it. Clancy was sympathetic, but he could tell she also had a lot she wanted to say. To her credit, though, she hadn't offered any of her own opinions in the car. She'd let him talk

Clancy hands him a mug of tea and then sets her own mug on the coffee table before sitting down next to him. "You don't suck. Your kid sucks."

"No, he doesn't."

"Okay, maybe not him personally, but it sounds like his attitude could use a serious adjustment."

"I don't know where we went wrong," Fox says. "None of our other kids are like this. Not that they're angelic or anything, but the other five combined don't give us as much trouble as Forest does. I thought we were parenting them all more or less the same way, but we must've dropped the ball with Forest."

"I don't know why you think it has to be your fault, or Takahiro's," Clancy says.

"Because we're his parents."

"And?"

"And we're supposed to teach him how to be his best self," he says.

"Kids are individuals, you know," Clancy points out. "You can try your hardest, but at the end of the day, they're the only ones who can decide if they're gonna be the best version of themselves or not. Forest is seventeen. He's going to make his own choices whether you like them or not."

"Yeah, but I hoped he'd make better ones."

"We all want that," Clancy says. "I want Grey and Frankie to make good choices too, but they're getting to an age where I have less and less influence over them. Especially Frankie. A sixteen year old with a driver's license and a part-time job? That kid thinks she owns the world."

"I'll bet she's never openly questioned your love though, or looked you in the face and told you to shut up."

"She knows better than to do that," Clancy declares. "She's free to make her own choices, with the understanding that every choice has consequences. I might not be able to spank her any more, but she knows I'm not above handing out other punishments."

"You know Taka and I don't punish our kids."

"Maybe you should," she says. "I know you guys are into that gentle parenting or whatever, but sometimes trying to reason with a kid is about as effective as banging your head against a brick wall. I'm not saying you're failures as parents, because you're totally not, but I think a few well-placed slaps on the bum when he was little might've done Forest some good."

"Violence isn't the answer, Clancy."

"Nobody's telling you to commit violence," she counters. "People shouldn't be indiscriminately hitting their kids every time they make some little mistake. All I'm saying is that on the occasions when using your words isn't getting the job done, sometimes you have to use other methods."

Fox sets his tea down on the end table and then turns to fix his sister with a level gaze. "Such as assaulting children?"

"Oh my God." Clancy lets out her breath in an audible huff. "I see where Forest got that hard head from."

"Excuse me?"

"Fox, you're deliberately missing the point," says his sister. "Look, I know spanking was never in your playbook, and it's fine. It hasn't been in mine either since Frankie was maybe six or seven years old. My point was, sometimes just talking to a kid isn't enough. Sometimes they need a stronger message."

"Such as?"

"Such as consequences that make them think about their actions. Some people have to learn things the hard way."

"I guess that makes sense," Fox concedes.

"Of course it makes sense," Clancy says. "Forest needs to understand he's not entitled to a free ride through life and that he can't get away with throwing a tantrum when things don't go his way, and you and Takahiro need to teach him that before someone else does, 'cause they won't love him like you do and... you know."

"We'll give him a safety net, and other people won't."

"Exactly."

Fox sighs. "Why can't parenting be easier?"

"If I knew how to make it easier, I'd write a book, make millions of dollars off it, and retire from the police force." Clancy gives him a half-smile. "Incidentally, if you think you've got it hard, you should try parenting by yourself.

"Sorry," Fox says. "I wasn't thinking of—"

"No, don't apologize. I was the one who brought it up." She reaches for her own mug of tea. Several seconds pass as she holds the mug between both hands and gazes into it. "The actual parenting part wasn't any less difficult when Garrett was alive. It's just... I miss being able to discuss things with him, and I miss us backing each other up."

"I don't know how you got through it," Fox tells her. "I'd be devastated if anything happened to Takahiro. I have no idea how I'd survive losing him."

"You'd survive," Clancy says. "I can't tell you how, but you'd do it somehow. If you were on your own, you'd have no choice. You'd find a way to do it for your kids."

His sister is right. As much as he knows a part of him would want to lie down and surrender, he would go on for the sake of his children, just like Clancy did. "I guess I would."

"You would," Clancy reiterates. "Sink or swim, you know? It's what you've got to do."

Fox nods. "I know."

He recalls the day, eight years ago, when his brother-in-law Garrett died. It had started as a perfectly normal Friday in early August, and Fox had been at the office finishing some paperwork and writing notes on the files one of his co-workers, Chloë St-Jean, would be overseeing for him while he was on vacation for the following two weeks. His mind hadn't been entirely on the task. He'd been too busy daydreaming about his family's upcoming camping adventure. He pictured himself playing and exploring with Taka and their kids, spending hot, hazy afternoons painting by the lake, making s'mores and singing campfire songs, and then snuggling by the slowly fading fire with Taka after all the kids were tucked into their sleeping bags.

Lost inside his own head, he barely acknowledged the approaching sound of police sirens on the street outside his office window. About fifteen minutes later, the distinctive wail of ambulance sirens racing past the building didn't entirely register either. It was only when Chloë dashed through the open doorway of his office with her phone in her hand and a wild look in her eyes that he pulled himself away from his reverie.

She announced herself with, "I just got a call from my brother."

"What happened?" Fox asked, and then because Chloë seemed so upset, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he and Belle are fine, thank God. They're shaken up, probably like everyone else, but they're not hurt."

"What happened?" he asked again.

"Fox! There was a literal high-speed chase outside your window, like twenty minutes ago, and you didn't notice?"

"A high-speed chase? In downtown Willow Creek?" He was thoroughly confused and knew he sounded incredulous, but he couldn't help it. "I heard the sirens, but I didn't realize—"

"Davian said the car the cops were chasing crashed straight through the front of the building where his studio is," she explained, breathless. "Some people in the building got hurt, and Dav said they could hear shooting outside and he thinks somebody might've died, but he didn't know if it was a police officer or one of the bad guys or somebody else."

As things unfolded, Fox learned that more than one person had lost their life. While Chloë was still in his office, trying to calm herself down after the phone call with her brother, Fox's own phone rang. It was his sister.

"Fox, I need you." Clancy's normally strong, assertive demeanour had been replaced by a voice so weak and small that he almost didn't recognize it. "I got a call from dispatch. It... it's Garrett. There was a situation... something happened downtown."

She offered as much information as she knew, and asked Fox to meet her at the hospital. When he arrived at the ER, he found Clancy, her partner Harry, and two uniformed officers standing in the waiting area, apparently heedless of the handful of unoccupied chairs. To an outside observer, Clancy might've seemed steady and composed, but Fox could tell she was a hair's breadth away from losing it. He couldn't speak for Harry or the two patrol officers, but he knew why Clancy wasn't sitting. The instant she let herself relax, she'd fall apart.

The uniformed cops started to move toward him as if they might try to stop him from getting to his sister, but Harry reached out and put a hand on one of their shoulders. "That's her twin brother. It's fine."

Fox hadn't wanted to be right, but the moment Clancy was in his arms, she let out a sound that was so filled with anguish that it couldn't have been mistaken for anything else. Then, she began to sob. It was as if every tear she'd never allowed herself to shed throughout her life finally burst out of her in an almighty flood.

He'd never seen his sister like that before, and he hoped to God he'd never witness anything like it again. He didn't know what to do, so he just held her as tightly as he could and let her cry.

Clancy was wholly incapable of getting any coherent words out, so it was Harry who told him, "He didn't make it. Garrett, I mean." The detective clenched his huge fists and growled, "That bastard got him."

Harry went on to explain that Garrett and his partner had responded to a 911 call from an employee at a downtown bank who reported an armed robbery in progress. Just as they arrived on scene, the two armed suspects exited the bank and jumped into a waiting car where a third person was already behind the wheel. That, Fox learned, resulted in the chase Chloë had seen from her office window. Harry couldn't say if the getaway driver had lost control of the vehicle or if he'd smashed through the front of a building on purpose, but the collision had effectively ended the chase.

The driver of the getaway car was killed on impact. The back seat passenger, who was still armed with his gun from the robbery, scrambled out of the car and attempted to escape, but he was injured too. He fired at other officers who'd arrived on the scene, but he didn't get far before they were able to disarm and apprehend him.

Meanwhile, Garrett and his partner were checking on the front seat passenger. The guy was obviously injured, and according to what Harry found out from Garrett's partner, they thought the man was unconscious. When Garrett reached in through the smashed car window to check for a pulse, the man suddenly opened his eyes, grabbed Garrett's wrist with one hand and whipped out a previously concealed knife with the other. Before anyone had time to react, the man plunged the long, sharp blade directly into Garrett's neck.

The paramedics made a valiant effort to save him, but he'd passed away in the ambulance, less than a kilometre from the hospital.

"This job's a fucking nightmare some days," Harry concluded. "We all know the danger, but it's like you put it out of your mind so you can get shit done. And then you develop this thing where you start to believe it's never gonna happen to you. Or to somebody you love."

Clancy and Garrett had loved each other passionately, and they both knew the risks. They'd met when Clancy was still a patrol officer too, and despite the warnings of their parents and their fellow officers that getting involved with another cop wasn't a great idea, they would not be deterred.

Six months after they met, Clancy earned all her qualifications to become a detective. Six months after that, she and Garrett got married in a stunningly elaborate ceremony. complete with a police honour guard made up of their colleagues and friends.

They were over the moon when baby Francine came along, and just as elated at the birth of Greyson three years later. It was obvious to everybody who knew them how devoted they were to each other and to their little family, and their bond only grew stronger as time went on.

They loved like there was no tomorrow, as Garrett's mother had put it, or in Garrett's own words, "Make it count. Do all the living you can while you've got a life to live."

Fox was left utterly shaken by the description of his brother-in-law's last minutes. He couldn't imagine what it must've been like for Clancy to hear it again.

"Can I take her home?" he asked Harry.

At that, Clancy raised her head from his shoulder. "No," she said weakly. "I can't go. Not until I see my husband."

So, they waited.

When a doctor eventually came out and said Clancy would be permitted to view the body, both Fox and Harry went with her. When she saw her husband lying on the gurney, with a pristine white bandage across his throat, Clancy let out a scream so feral that Fox struggled to accept it was coming from a human. The sound of his sister's pain and the image of her cradling the pale, still body of her husband had haunted his dreams for months after that.

When they finally did depart the hospital, Fox had to guide her to his car. She stumbled along beside him, seemingly unaware of anything, mumbling things to herself that Fox was unable to comprehend.

He'd been afraid to leave her, so he took her to his own house. Knowing Frankie and Grey were safe with Garrett's parents, he made the decision to let them stay there undisturbed for the time being. Clancy was in no condition to help her kids, and Fox knew they'd be even more traumatized by what had happened if they saw their mother in that state.

As soon as they walked through the front door, Takahiro was there to meet them. He held out his arms to Clancy and she stepped straight into his waiting embrace. Open-hearted Takahiro, with his gift for comforting others, didn't say he was sorry or utter any meaningless platitudes. All he said was, "We're here for you."

Fox could visually observe the tension leaving Clancy's body. She sagged in Taka's arms and whispered, "Thank you, Takahiro."

It wasn't until the next morning that Clancy was ready to be with her kids, and even then she wasn't able to tell them about Garrett herself. It was actually Takahiro who’d broken the news to them and, in his gentle way, answered their questions about what dying meant.

Fox was grateful. He wasn't sure he could've handled it as gracefully as Taka did, and when he said as much to his husband later, Taka's response had been, "It's all right. Sometimes people need help from someone who's one step away. Close enough to care, but not too close to see things in perspective."

That piece of wisdom is something Fox has carried with him ever since. He thinks he fulfills that role in the lives of his clients, his niece and nephew and his friends, and he's taught himself to recognize when he needs someone to step into that role for him. As much as he wants to prove he's grown enough to manage things on his own, the truth is that he can't keep all the proverbial balls in the air by himself. No one can.

"Hey."

Fox realizes he's allowed too long a pause in the conversation when his sister's one-word sentence interrupts his reminiscence. He glances over at her. "Sorry."

"You okay?" she asks.

"Yeah. I was just thinking."

"About...?"

"Garrett," he admits. "Sorry if that's weird."

"It's not," Clancy says. "I was thinking about him too."

"Because of what I said?"

"Not really," she says. "There isn't a single day where I don't think about him at least once. Sometimes it's the most random thing that'll remind me of him. Like, when I accidentally burn the toast at breakfast, or when I catch myself squeezing the toothpaste in the middle. That annoyed Garrett so much. He used to say I was wasting it."

Fox smiles. "Taka gets after me for being a middle-squeezer too."

Clancy releases an abrupt laugh. "A middle-squeezer?"

"That's what he calls it. He's an end-squeezer, and he thinks that's the only correct way to squeeze out toothpaste. He also thinks there's only one correct way to put a roll of toilet paper on the holder too."

"There is. I had it on good authority from my late husband."

"We have to heed the experts," Fox says.

"Yeah," says Clancy. "God, I miss him. Sometimes I still come up with stuff I want to tell him, and I have these moments where I think 'I can't wait to tell Garrett when I get home from work'. But then I remember, and... yeah."

"So then you call and tell me."

"I'm glad you don't ignore my calls, even when it's about something dumb like seeing a stray chicken in the parking lot at Tim Hortons."

It's Fox's turn to laugh. "Can you imagine the lame jokes Garrett would've made about that? But yeah... you know I'll never ignore your calls. I'm here for you, one hundred percent."

"Same goes for you," Clancy says. "And you're not wrong about the jokes. Garrett thought he'd be a great stand-up comic, you know. He used to write down all his best material, as he called it. Kept it in a notebook in the apartment."

"The garage apartment?"

"Yeah. Well, it wasn't the garage apartment then, but you know what I mean."

As far as Fox knows, Clancy and Garrett's attached garage had never actually had a vehicle in it. The previous owners had been using it primarily for storage, and when Clancy and Garrett bought the house, Garrett decided it'd make a perfect family room. They had the garage door removed and replaced by a regular wall, had a small bathroom built in one corner, and moved in their big-screen TV, exercise equipment, pool table and an old sofa Clancy got from one of their cousins. Fox and Taka had spent many evenings hanging out with Clancy and Garrett, chatting and watching movies while all the kids played together nearby.

After Garrett passed, Clancy had the space converted into a bachelor flat so she could rent it out and supplement her income. She hired a contractor to construct a kitchenette and to install a separate entrance so her tenants wouldn't have to enter or exit through the house.

"Do you go in there much?" Fox asks. "To the garage apartment?"

"Only to collect the rent, or to fix stuff or clean up after somebody leaves," she says. "I gotta go in there this weekend, actually. I thought the student I had was going to stay for the whole school year, but she up and left. Decided she was going to move in with her boyfriend instead. She left it looking okay, but I still have to clean the floors and give the bathroom a good scrub."

"If you need help, let me know."

"Why? Are you going to send your kids to..." She lets the sentence fade and then grins at him. "Oh, wait."

"What?"

"I just had a genius idea," Clancy declares. "It's brilliant. Kind of a win-win, you might say."

"So, tell me what it is."

"You really could send one of your kids to the garage apartment. I mean, if Forest wants to move out so badly, maybe he should."

"And you think he should move in here?"

"Why not?" says Clancy. "He has a part-time job, doesn't he? He could pay me a little bit of rent every month. You wouldn't have him disrespecting you under your roof any more, and he'd learn how to be responsible for himself."

"I don't think he could do that, being totally on his own."

"He wouldn't be totally on his own. I'd keep an eye on him to make sure he's not going completely off the rails." She winks conspiratorially. "We just wouldn't tell him he's being surveilled."

"He wouldn't last a week," Fox says.

"Weren't you ready to let him run off to Japan by himself earlier today?" Clancy inquires.

"Do you think I actually believed he would?"

"You called his bluff."

"I did," Fox confesses.

"I'll bet Mom and Dad didn't believe you'd run away, but you did. They didn't think you'd make it on your own either, but you did that too."

"Fair point, but the difference between me and Forest is that my life was actually terrible and I had a valid reason to run away. I had to get out of there, and I was ready to change. Plus, I was twenty-five and fully educated."

"True, but the end goal is still the same," Clancy insists. "Look how much getting out from under our parents' roof did for you."

Fox considers it. He likes Clancy's plan in theory and he's thankful that she's willing to covertly supervise Forest, but he's not totally convinced his son could cope with being independent. As much as he wants Forest to learn that particular lesson, it'll defeat the purpose of the experiment if Forest begs to come home after only a few days.

"I'll have to discuss it with Taka," he says.

"I'd be concerned if you didn't," Clancy replies. "You can let me know what you decide, but don't take too long, okay? I want to advertise it for rent again if Forest isn't going to be moving in."

"Okay," Fox says. "Hopefully, we'll be able to let you know by the weekend."

[satorus-leftarm]

HQ MUSIC HCS EXCEPT IM PROJECTING AKDNJDDNKS

hinata:

ngl, i feel like hed have like mainstream taste but like also not??? hes a swiftie tho no one can change my mind on that. also feel like he’d like mac miller maybe?? idk. id say like chill rap/pop would be his thing

kageyama:

feel like hed either have like an 27 hr long playlist w js a bunch of bullshit from his faves in middle school all the way till hs and it would be a major vibe OR he doesn’t listen to music very often but doesnt rlly care whats on 🥲 he’ll vibe either way lol

tsuki:

this man is fucking EMO AND/OR A METALHEAD 😝 you cannot say ANYTHING that’ll change my mind. metal wise, i feel like hed fw nu metal more than classic metal. like korn’s his fave (specifically life is peachy). emo wise, mans seems like a ptv stan. like i can see him tryna grow out his hair to be like vic but failing so hard

yamaguchi:

80s to 2000s pop is this kids entire personality. britney, destiney’s child, diana ross, jlo, nsync, backstreet boys, madonna, YOU FUCKING NAME IT!!! hes pretty open w newer pop but it doesnt hit the same. he does however fw metallica a hell of a lot bc of tsuki lol 🫶

suga:

he listens to CUNTry 🤯 like divorced angry wife country. and he gets SO into it to the point where it concerns daichi akdjddksks!!! he fw yamaguchis music too n they trade playlists from time to time. hes also the type to listen to some of the most vulgar shit w a straight face. were talking like some insane clown posse type shit. when hes alone he’ll grab a hair brush and lip sync to halls of illusion and act like hes all hard and not the sweetest soul the world has ever known 💀

daichi:

hes a 90s rap kid fr. like nwa, 2pac, laurynn hill, ice cube, early eminem, eazy e and so on. hes open to p much everything but if this man gets the aux, expect to hear fuck the police at FULL BLAST ( #improjecting ) 🥲😇

asahi:

INDIE INDIE INDIE INDIE!!!!! were talking car seat headrest, the strokes, early arctic monkeys, spoon, tool!!!! he rlly likes brit pop too, his roman empire is oasis vs blur alkdkddnsjsj

noya:

was a victim of 2020 music 💀 BUT ITS OK HE RECOVERED GUYS!!! i feel like hed listen to sza, kendrick (he HATES drake lmaoo), mac miller, a lil kanye here and there, 21 savage. hes a MASSIVE doja cat fan tho OML its insufferable how into her he is aldjdjdbskdbd!!!! feel like hed also secretly a kpop stan lmaoooo like were talking p1harmony, skz, enhypen, TWICE OMG HE LOVES TWICE

[bangtanhoneys]

The Grammy's - Part Two

Part 1 l Part 3

The GRAMMY’s.

The Grammy Awards are awards presented by the Recording Academy of the United States to recognise “outstanding” achievements in the music industry…if you believed what you read on Wikipedia and if you didn’t see the artists who had brought exceptional change to the music industry like Lana Del Ray, Ariana Grande, Nicki Minaj, Katy Perry and even Diana Ross.

BTS were included in that list of people who had changed the music industry, had made Billboard change their rules every time they brought out a new single or album, had streaming numbers no one else had and yet for all the Grammy nominations, performances and making an appearance, there was no Grammy. 

Until they had received a notification from Bang-PD to their phones, though five of those messages had been delayed in getting to their recipients. 

Grammy Nominations have come through - Grace has got 3. 

7 Rings - Record of the Year

In My Head - Album of the Year

7 Rings - Best Pop Solo Performance. 

Each had a different reaction to the news, which was understandable. At first, there was elation over the fact that at least one of them got a Grammy nod, second was amazement that she had scored three big major categories and then worry mixed in with disappointment. Why hadn’t they had the nomination? Whether solo or as a group, the Grammy’s had left a bitter taste in their mouths. 

Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin knew Grace would flat-out refuse to perform or even go to the awards. They knew her back to front - her loyalty stood with the group and if they weren’t getting a nomination, then neither would she. 

However, this was a defining moment in her career, their careers, their history and for the country. 

And for those who knew what kind of start Grace had, this would be the perfect way to celebrate that career. 

She started as an admin assistant, straight out of school and into employment with Big Hit Entertainment who then saw that she could do ballet dancing, and ballroom dancing, who could sing though that skill was untouched, spoke perfect English, could speak German as well and had all the charm of an idol.

Yet there was no place for her. 

Everyone knew Bang PD wanted a hip-hop group and that’s what he started with in Namjoon, then Yoongi and Hobi. Grace was added as a backup for the ability to sing their ad-libs and rap alongside them without any problem. Then along came Seokjin & Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin and suddenly they were an idol group. 

A woman shouldn’t be doing hip-hop with a boy group and so she had signed a two album contract which had left her on tenterhooks as to whether all the skills she had gained while working with Bangtan Sonyeondan would now be worthless. But along came Skool Luv Affair and Dark & Wild and everything fell into place. 

Now they couldn’t see the group without their eldest member, the only female, their noona. The woman who protected them in every sense of the word and who had always been there for their solo projects and careers. Her own started very late after their military careers had started so she had full reign of being the BTS representative. 

If her upcoming tour was a testament to how well her solo career had taken off, then a Grammy nomination would just solidify that. 

Updates were coming in every day and then it was the date of the Grammy Awards themselves. Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon & Yoongi were given special permission for absence of leave for two days so Seokjin planned a private viewing party just for the boys, their close friends who knew Grace as well and some of their team. 

Seokjin had been up till late preparing snacks and food as the Grammy’s would start at 10am their time. There was plenty of alcohol covering his kitchen counter and there was food everywhere when Hobi had arrived first.

“Hyung, have you been stress cooking again?” 

Seokjin paused where he was putting out plates and cups, chilling the expensive alcohol that had been gifted to him by someone and making sure there was enough kimchi in the container. Multitasking at its finest. 

“Maybe? I can’t help it. I’m nervous, more for Grace than anyone else.”

Hobi sighed, having had the same conversation with every other member of the team and Grace herself. She had massive reservations about attending and performing, believing it all to be a big farce so they could have big viewing numbers. 

“I know, but noona will be fine. She’s a lot stronger than us and a loss at the Grammy’s won’t affect her like it did us. As she said, as long as her performance is killer, who cares.”

Nothing more could be said as the front door opened and the rest of his boys poured through, Jungkook first then the rest following with bags of more food and alcohol. 

“How drunk are you all getting?” Hobi laughed, receiving hugs and pats on the back as he looked at the various sized bags that were being dumped in the kitchen.

“It would have been more but Yoongi-hyung stopped us,” Taehyung shrugged as he dropped his bag and then lifted his arm, flexing it to show off his muscles which caused Jimin to roll his eyes and push at him. “We’ve all got muscles. It hasn’t been that long since Hobi-hyung has seen us.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Yoongi and Namjoon asked Seokjin at the same time, causing the two to pause, look at each other then back at their hyung. 

Jungkook, while looking every inch the military man he had become, had wrapped his arms around Seokjin and pushed his face into his back.

“Nervous,” Seokjin admitted while patting Jungkook’s hands. “I’m more nervous for her than about the whole thing. But I know she can handle it. It’s just a big thing.”

“For everyone,” Namjoon smiled slightly and reached over to give Seokjin’s shoulder a squeeze, causing the man to squawk at how strong that grip had become. “Ah, sorry hyung.”

“Come on, let’s get the TV sorted before everyone else comes. And start cracking the bottles open hyung, let the champagne breathe before we get started,” Yoongi grinned as he took control of the situation, shooing people to start doing jobs.

Even though it was early in the morning and most people had been up all night working, everyone was in bright spirits as the coffee churned. The living room was filled with about 20 people, some on the couch, some on the floor, some on chairs they had brought over. Jungkook had even stolen the spare mattress in the other room and had laid it out on the floor for some.

BTS, however, had taken control of the couch. 

They barely listened to the people talking on the screen as they all settled down with their various glasses of drink though Seokjin, Hobi and Namjoon had stuck to iced coffee for now. They wanted to be sober enough to get to her performance before drinking any type of alcohol.

Their phones went off at the same time.

“Oh my god, look at her!”

Taehyung lifted his phone up and began showing it around to the others. Sejin had sent a picture of Grace between her parents, dressed in her Elie Saab dress and made up to the nines as her father stood in a suit to her left and her mother stood to her right in a gold dress. They all matched perfectly to what Grace was wearing. 

Messages quickly flew out of good luck, hope it all goes well, kill the stage, etc. None were read by Grace but Sejin sent a thumbs up emoji back with a winky face. 

There was silence in the room as they watched the red carpet, pointing out the various celebrities they knew of or had met. They had immediately spotted Liam McEwan, one of the reporters who they actually liked. And then they saw Bang PD step out of the car with Grace’s parents, a member of staff leading them past the red carpet and inside.

“Here we go,” Seokjin muttered as Namjoon’s hand squeezed his shoulder again, a bit more gently this time. 

The noise from the crowd was instantaneous. 

Hands reached forward for the remote control to turn down the volume a bit as screams were heard, many heads turned as the camera switched to Liam McEwan. “Everybody, Grace Chu from BTS has arrived! The queen is here.”

The boys held their breath until the camera caught up with where it was meant to be, showing Grace in front of the Grammy backdrop, cameras flashing in her eyes as she smiled for the photographers. The dress sparkled each time the camera flashed and then she was moved along, straight towards Liam. 

“Seee! Told you she could do it,” Yoongi said as he raised his glass of whiskey, not at all a bit tipsy as Jungkook reached over and filled it up for him. When did he get started on that?

“She hasn’t even gotten inside yet hyung,” Jimin laughed, already opening another bottle of champagne as if Grace had already won her three awards and had been crowned Queen of Korea. 

Seokjin and Namjoon as well as Hobi, the only three who had been determined not to drink until the end, slowly sipped on their iced coffee and laughed as they watched an excited maknae open Taehyung’s bottle of wine for him. 

“But she’s won everyone over! I mean, that dress is amazing on her,” Taehyung said as he stood, pushing over Jimin who spilled himself into Hobi’s lap. Obviously, a career in the military had done nothing to dampen their enthusiasm. 

Taehyung stood next to the large TV screen, pointing at various parts of her dress. “I mean, it’s pretty low. I wonder who signed that off but either way, she looks amazing. And look! Cleavage! No one has seen noona with cleavage yet.”

Yoongi groaned, covering his eyes. “Don’t mention Grace and cleavage in the same sentence. I’m not drunk enough yet.”

Seokjin hid a grin behind his hand and tried not to chuckle, ignoring Hobi who was cackling into his back and Namjoon who stood ready to defend his noona’s honour until he was pulled back down. 

“What?” Taehyung asked, grinning. “Okay, okay. But this is history in the making here. She’s got everyone eating out of her hand already and she’s not even inside yet. Is that Taylor Swift she’s saying hello to? Oh, it's Nicki Minaj. Ah, another collab being set up there.”

“Tae,” Seokjin started and threw a napkin at him. “Sit down before your eyes turn into the same shape as the TV. You’re blocking the view as well.”

There were plenty of voices who agreed with him as Tae pouted and sat back down, ignoring the maknae line’s giggles. 

The next time they saw Grace was sitting with her parents in the main room, taking a glass of water and gulping it down before Sejin and the Grammy team led her away. 

“Oh this is it,” Jungkook whispered as he somehow managed to squeeze in next to Seokjin. If there were two people in the room who were close to Grace and could feel her nerves from here, it would be them. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to 5-time Grammy nominated member of BTS, Grace Chu,” the loud announcement came.

“Okay. This is it,” Namjoon said as he went into leader mode. “Everyone shut up and let’s enjoy it.” Nothing more needed to be said as everyone went into quiet mode, 20 sets of eyes on the TV that showed a black curtain being lifted as the opening to the Sound of Music’s ‘Favourite Things’ was being played by a small orchestra, dressed in black dinner suits and dresses.

Jungkook reached over and held onto Seokjin’s hand tight.

Each light in the middle came on to show her standing there, in her blazer dress that was very short but presentable and caused some uproar from the boys the moment they saw it but a quick look from Namjoon and they settled again. 

Her eyes met the camera as it slowly zoomed in and she gave a small smile as she started to sing, four female dancers walking on stage to meet her dressed in white suits. 

“My wrist, stop watchin’, my neck is flossy,” Grace and Jungkook sang at the same time, though he did it under his breath as he watched the choreography on the TV. By the time the chorus came, the four female dancers spread further apart to allow the seven male dancers to come alongside though they were dressed in matching black suits.

“Wearing a ring, but ain’t gon’ be no Mrs,” Grace sang as she flashed her left hand, wiggling slightly causing Jimin and Taehyung to giggle.

There were more outrage noises when it came to the second pre-chorus, the female dancers were back as the lyrics “my smile is beamin’, my skin is gleamin’” were sung but instead of Grace doing the usual choreography that the boys were used to, it had been changed for American tv.

All five women turned and leaned forward, resting heads on backsides as Grace shifted hands to turn her head towards the camera as she sang the rest of the lyrics, “the way it shine, I know you’ve seen it” as her hand went down the thigh of the dancer who she was resting on. 

“I bought a crib just for the closet,” Grace sang as she rightened herself, not paying attention to the crowd’s delighted noises or what her parents were going to think. Right now, it was a cause of getting through this song to get to the rap part and then done.

All dancers were back for the chorus and Yoongi, Hobi and Namjoon shifted towards the edge of the seat. They had seen the many comments around this song and whether Grace could perform the rap part live, since it was so fat, not realising she covered their rap parts with ease when they needed her to. 

“When you see them racks, they stacked up like my ass yeah,” she sang/rapped, turning her body a little to camera to show her hand grabbing a chunk of her backside to match the lyrics. She then fully turned to the camera, the dancers in formation on either side of her as she continued the verse.

“Shoot, go from the store to the booth. Make it all back in one loop, gimmie the loot,” she continued as she danced her way through the verse without stopping to take a breath.

In complete jubilation, every single person in Seokjin’s living room sang along with her.

“Nevermind I got the juice. Nothing but net when we shoot. Look at my neck, look at my jet!”

“Ain’t got enough money to pay me respect. Ain’t no budget when I’m on the set If I like it, then that’s what I get,” Grace continued from where they left off singing. 

The dancers all left the stage as the orchestra took over the last chorus, letting the song play out once Grace stopped singing. The audience stood, clapping and cheering for her and even though the camera’s didn’t show it, she did a full bow to the crowd.

“Okay, that was amazing!” 

The alcohol was flowing now the worst of the nerves were over with and Seokjin happily accepted the glass of wine, Namjoon a whiskey from Yoongi and Hobi a washed down glass of white wine. All seven boys, their close friends and team lifted their glasses in cheers.

“Namjoon, you do it,” Yoongi said as everyone looked to Seokjin to lead the toast.

“Oh right,” their leader said as he stood, making his way to stand next to the TV where the awards were flowing.

“When I first met noona, I was a shy teenager who had no clue, probably like many of us. She didn’t care that I was into hip hop, that I had big dreams and that I wanted to be something. All she cared about was Namjoon - what did he want? And I never knew the answer to that question until the day she and I were out buying plants,” Namjoon paused then laughed when he realised he was getting teary as was the rest of the boys in front of him. 

“She asked what I wanted? And I picked up this plant pot because it was cute. And I realised there and then, that all noona wanted from me was to be happy and if a plant pot made me happy because it was cute, then that’s what she was going to get for me. Seeing her come from someone who didn’t know their place in the world to now seeing her up there on the Grammy stage, I’m very thankful that I have Grace Chu in my life. So fuck the Grammy’s, who gives a shit. Grace Chu just made history!”

Everyone’s glasses went up with cheers. “To Grace Chu!” they all said then downed their alcohol in one go, only for glasses to be filled again just as quickly.

There was complete and utter silence when she didn’t win Best Pop Solo Performance, though Jungkook could see the storm brewing over his leader’s head. “Noona isn’t bothered,” he muttered as he pointed to her on the screen as she laughed and talked to her parents, completely unbothered by the fact she didn’t win. 

It turned out to be a very long morning as each award came and went. 

“The nominees for Record of the Year are,” that sentence interrupted all the conversations in the room, heads turning on a swivel to stare at the screen. 

BTS turned to look at each other and as if they had the same thought, they each reached over to clasp hands. Namjoon closed his eyes, let out a breath and prayed.

“And the winner is,” there was a giant pause and Grace on the screen turned to her mother to say something before the answer was revealed:  “7 Rings - Grace Chu.”

There was complete and utter pandemonium in Seokjin’s living room. Namjoon had fallen to the floor on his knees, Jungkook on his back. Taehyung and Jimin were hugging each other, Hobi stared at the screen in utter confusion and Yoongi reached over to wrap an arm around Seokjin’s shoulders.

“She did it, hyung. She actually did it.”

They missed most of her speech, only calming down enough to hear the last part of it. 

“Holy shit,” Namjoon muttered as he wiped a hand down his face and stayed where he was. Jungkook grabbed hold of his shoulders and whispered hurriedly at him. “Hyung, hyung, look.”

On screen, Chris Martin from Coldplay was walking across the stage.

“No way,” Seokjin whispered as Yoongi grabbed hold of his hand, squeezing tight. If there was anyone who was important to the couple and to the rest of the band, it would be Chris. The fact he was there to present the biggest award of the night was not missed by anyone.

“The winner for Album of the Year,” Chris paused and turned to look at Grace. “In My Head" by Grace Chu, produced by Bang PD & PDogg from Big Hit Entertainment. Congratulations.”

There was silence for a moment and then a multitude of noise. Cheers, screams, crying, hooting, laughter and some kind of noise Taehyung had produced at the news. Each man had a different reaction as they watched Grace stand and walk up to the stage, greeting Chris the traditional way before hugging him. 

They went silent again as Grace started her speech, each of them holding their breath as they were standing. It wasn’t missed that she had said her boys, ARMY and her man separately and for her to acknowledge Seokjin like that on American TV was another big moment.  

Jimin’s phone rang just as Grace walked off stage and he quickly pulled it out, seeing Sejin’s name on the screen.

“Ah Sejin-hyung,” Jimin said while he put the voice call on speakerphone so they could hear their old manager. 

“Grace is just coming backstage now so I’ve got you on speakerphone, one moment.” They could hear the tears in his voice over the noise in the background. “Grace, the boys are on the phone.”

They were all screaming their congratulations on the line and suddenly they heard Bang-PD on the line.

“Boys,” he started crying again. “I’m so proud of you all. So proud. I’m letting Grace have a moment with her parents but I just wanted to say I’m very proud of you all. Thank you.”

It was hard to even get their words out but there were promises for a celebration dinner when they got back and Grace would speak to them later once she got back to her hotel. 

“She did it,” Namjoon whispered as he saw the notifications on his phone on various media outlets across South Korea and America reporting on Grace winning her two Grammys. CL, IU, TXT and others were posting on their social media, tagging BTS and Grace in their posts. Even Billboard had put up a post.

“She did it,” Namjoon repeated as he rested a hand on Seokjin’s back and an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. Hobi joined them at Jungkook’s side, pulling Jimin and Taehyung in and Yoongi joined them by wrapping an arm around Taehyung and Seokjin. 

Grace would return back to Korea, to them, as a twice Grammy awarded artist. And no one would be able to say that Korea’s Noona hadn’t broken the barrier that they all needed to be broken and no one could say that they as a group and individually weren’t leading the way for other Korean idols and groups. 

[donnahinkleystaceytroy]

Judy Garland | "The Judy Garland Show" Bob Mackie Illustration A signed Bob Mackie fashion illustration of Judy Garland for The Judy Garland Show (1963-4, CBS). Judy wore the gown designed in this specific illustration in episode 22 of her show, which aired on February 23, 1964. 

The illustration features a full-length rendering of Judy Garland in a floor-length zebra-striped gown with a raised boat-neck collar. It is a sleek, sophisticated design fully embellished with a sequin asymmetric animal print. Bob Mackie's signature is at the bottom right-hand corner, with 1963 underneath. 

The Judy Garland Show aired 26 episodes and showcased Judy's vocals, personality, and the performer's elegance and style, a credit to Aghayan and Mackie. The tailored clothing, proportions, necklines, and tasteful embellishments were fashionable and classic and had a couture look that made Judy even more glamorous in her final years as an entertainer. 

Bob Mackie began his career working with some of the most acclaimed Hollywood costume designers, Jean Louis and Edith Head. In 1963, he began working with Ray Aghayan for CBS's The Judy Garland Show, then went on to work and collaborated with Carol Burnette, Cher, and Diana Ross. Mackie's satiric eye referencing films from the Golden Age of cinema and beaded nude illusion pieces became style hallmarks for the 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s. His designs continue to attract the interest of new generations of performers and celebrities who continue to wear his designs.

About 8 x 18 inches

PROVENANCE From The Archives of Bob Mackie

https://bid.juliensauctions.com/lot-details/index/catalog/580/lot/241743/judy-garland-the-judy-garland-show-bob-mackie-illustration

[peppymintdreams]

Home…

Luca Pearce x Mc

The warmth of Luca's hand in theirs grounded Mc in a way nothing else could. They sat on the couch, their Christmas tree softly twinkling, and Luca, in his ridiculous neko-themed pajamas with cat ears, leaned against them, a content smile on his face. "I never thought I’d be this happy," he said softly, his voice so full of sincerity it made Mc’s heart ache.

But there it was again. That sentence. The exact words he’d said yesterday, and the day before that, too. It was always the same, like clockwork. Mc’s stomach twisted. At first, they thought it was just Luca being sentimental, but now? Now it was different.

They stared at him, trying to catch a flicker of recognition in his eyes, something to indicate he realized what he was saying. "Do you remember when we decorated this tree?" Mc asked cautiously.

Luca tilted his head, his eyes softening. "Of course! You insisted on putting the star on top even though you couldn’t reach it. You made me lift you up like you were Simba from The Lion King." He laughed, the sound so genuine it almost broke Mc.

But they knew this story. They’d lived it already. And they knew exactly what he’d say next.

"Then you accidentally kicked an ornament off the tree," Mc whispered, finishing his sentence before he could.

Luca blinked, surprised. "How’d you know I was gonna say that?"

Mc felt their chest tighten, like the air was being stolen from their lungs. "Because... I’ve heard it before," they said quietly.

Later that night, Luca lay asleep beside them, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Mc stared at the ceiling, unable to quiet the growing unease in their mind.

It was Christmas. Luca had fallen asleep in his cat-themed outfit, and Mc rested in Luca’s arms, replaying every strange, repetitive moment from the past few days. It was all so perfect, but it felt wrong. Like they were stuck in a loop.

And then the headache started.

A sharp, searing pain blossomed behind their eyes, and Mc clutched their head, curling into a ball. "L-Luca—" they gasped, reaching out blindly.

But their fingers didn’t meet warm skin.

They met the cold emptiness of a pillow.

Mc sat up with a jolt, their breath ragged and their heart pounding. They were in their bedroom. The Christmas tree, the neko costume, the warmth of Luca—it was all gone.

No Luca.

Just a pillow in their arms, clutched tightly against their chest. The faint glow of their phone screen caught their attention. Confused, Mc reached for it, still trembling, and saw a video playing.

"Cute Boyfriend Becomes Your Christmas Present"

Their fingers froze over the screen. The thumbnail showed a green space with stars and a thumbnail of an animated boy with familiar cat ears and a warm smile—Luca’s smile. Beneath it, the title read:

{ASMR Audio} [M4A] Cute Boyfriend Becomes Your Neko

The uploader’s name: ZsakuVA.

Mc’s blood ran cold.

"What... What is this?" they whispered, their voice breaking. They replayed the title in their mind, unable to comprehend what it meant. The memories of Luca’s laugh, his smile, his love—it had all felt so real.

But this? This suggested otherwise.

Mc wiped their face with trembling hands, their tear-streaked cheeks burning as they picked up the phone again. Their mind raced, flooded with memories—or were they just scripts? They had to know. They pressed play once more, allowing the video to continue.

The voice came through the speaker, warm and teasing.

“You’re so odd sometimes,” Luca said with a soft chuckle.

Mc froze. That was the night Mc dressed Luca up in a cat costume for Christmas, Mc had teased Luca choosing the hot chocolate over him to which he got upset, and told them they were not allowed anymore of him.

“You should know already, I’ll always be yours,” the voice continued, softening with an intimacy that twisted Mc’s heart. “No matter what, okay?”

The memory came rushing back: Luca holding their waists , reassuring them how much he loved them.

Mc bit their lip hard, trying to ground themselves in the present, but the lines kept coming.

“For New Year’s, I was thinking we could go see the fireworks,” the voice said, tinged with a mix of excitement and nerves. “There’s a nice place I found by the river, but we’d have to go early to get a good spot. You up for it?”

Mc’s breath caught in their throat. They’d gone to that spot, had the pandemic not almost ruined everything. They remembered huddling together against the cold, his arm draped over their shoulders, the fireworks reflecting in his eyes as they shared their New Year’s kiss.

The video played on, and the words felt like daggers.

“I am not going as a cat,” Luca’s voice grumbled, with just a hint of playfulness. “Only you get to see this. Um… yeah, only you.”

Mc gasped. That was what he’d said when they’d begged him to wear the cat ears for the fireworks, teasing him until he caved. It had been such a silly moment, but now it was nothing more than a line.

The final blow came when his voice, tender and filled with love, said, “Merry Christmas.”

It was so simple, so unassuming, yet it broke them. It was the same way he’d said it when they exchanged gifts that first Christmas together, the same warmth in his tone when he’d kissed their forehead and told them how much he loved them.

Mc dropped the phone again, their vision blurry with tears. Every cherished moment, every intimate exchange—they weren’t memories. They weren’t real.

The repetition, the predictability, the familiarity of Luca’s words—it all made sense now. He wasn’t real. He’d never been real.

Mc’s sobs came harder, their chest heaving as they clutched their knees to their chest. They wanted to scream, to tear apart the fabric of reality and claw their way back to the life they’d lost.

“You’re so odd sometimes.”

“I’ll always be yours.”

“No matter what, okay?”

The words replayed in their mind, each one more painful than the last. Because even if Luca wasn’t real, even if every memory had been nothing more than a dream, Mc couldn’t stop loving him.

Because in that dream, he had been their home. And now, they were utterly lost.

Their hand trembled as they turned off the video and threw the phone across the room. The screen cracked on impact, but Mc didn’t care. Everything they thought they had—everything they thought they were—was gone.

Luca wasn’t real.

He was never real.

Tears streamed down their face, hot and unrelenting. They curled into themselves on the bed, clutching the pillow like it could bring him back. "Please," they whispered into the empty room. "I just want to go home. Back to Luca. Back to my Luca."

Mc closed their eyes, clutching their chest as they whispered, "I don’t care if it was a dream. It was my dream. And it was my home."

They wiped their tears and slowly walked to the phone, picking it up despite the jagged cracks across its screen. They stared at the video title again, biting their lip.

"Maybe I can’t go back..." Their voice was soft, trembling. "But I can still carry it with me."

They closed the video and opened a blank document on their phone. With trembling fingers, they began to write—every memory, every moment, every word Luca had ever said. They wrote their story, their home, as if putting it into words could keep it alive forever.

And as they wrote, they hummed softly to themselves, letting the lyrics guide their heart:

"If you're listening, God, please don't make it hard

To know if we should believe the things that we see..."

Because even if Luca wasn’t real in this world, Mc would never let go of him. He was more than a dream to them. He was home.

Their tears came harder, stifling their breath as the weight of reality sank in. Luca had been that place for them—he’d been their home. His love, his laughter, the way he made them feel seen and whole, like they’d finally found where they belonged. It had all been so vivid, so tangible. But now? Now it was all slipping through their fingers like smoke.

"I wish I was home, I wish I was back there..."

They whispered the words as their heart clenched tighter. Images of their life together played in their mind, bright and vibrant as the Christmas lights that had once adorned their shared home. Luca’s laughter when he found Mocha curled up in their laundry basket. His blush when Mc called him their husband for the first time. The way he’d looked at them on their wedding day, like they were his whole world.

"Sometimes I feel like I've been far away too long..."

The ache in their chest deepened. Maybe that’s all this was—a cruel distance, a temporary separation. Maybe Luca was still waiting for them, waiting for them to find their way back to him.

But how could they, when every sign pointed to the truth they didn’t want to believe? That everything—the life they’d built, the memories they’d shared—had been nothing more than a dream.

"Luca... I wish I was back there with you."

But there was no answer. No warmth.

Only silence.

P.S. Hey… hey, you! 🫵🏾 Do you want more Sakuverse gay shit? Hit that follow button and send in a request! You’ll get notifications whenever I post new fics for Sakuverse Reimagined Twist of Fate, and maybe even a chance to have your OC featured in a story.

[mariacallous]

(New York Jewish Week) – When Michael Witkes arrived at his bar mitzvah party, he knew he couldn’t enter to a musical theater song, his preferred genre, because he was already being bullied for being too effeminate and flamboyant. So, he simply told the DJ to just pick any song that matched the vibe of a bar mitzvah entrance.

The DJ picked “I’m Coming Out” by Diana Ross. 

“This day that is supposed to be completely celebratory became this kind of tragic, camp event, where I had to wrestle with getting bullied because of this,” Witkes said. “I was just trying to become a man, a Jewish adult, and then I was suddenly getting outed at my bar mitzvah.”

Eighteen years later, Witkes, 31, is a professional drag queen in New York City, performing as “Pink Pancake.” This week, he will revisit that troubling coming-of-age moment in his first ever one-woman drag show, “Today You Are a Man!” at The Tank NYC.

“I take that moment of tragedy and I flip it on its head and I turn it into this play about self discovery and coming into your authenticity as a queer person and as a Jew,” Witkes told the New York Jewish Week.

Witkes first began developing the show, which runs for 50 minutes, two years ago as a four-minute lip sync for a “Hanukkah in July” drag performance. Since then, he’s partnered with director and queer Jewish art and events curator Stuart B Meyers to flesh out a full-length performance. 

“The show gives an earnest portrayal of the horror of that experience, how awful it was, and is, to be bullied for being gay and femme, yet also lifts and celebrates the story of who Michael has become through drag,” Meyers told the New York Jewish Week. “So what’s really interesting is that the piece is about his bar mitzvah of the past, but in a big way, it’s also a bar mitzvah in and of itself, because it’s a celebration of his own very Jewish process of coming into this next chapter as Pink Pancake.” 

Ahead of the show, the New York Jewish Week caught up with Witkes about what it was like to make the show and revisit his bar mitzvah experience. 

This interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.

What would you tell your 13-year-old self about how far you’ve come?

It’s funny because I think if I told my 13-year-old self, “Hey, you’re now a drag queen in New York, and you’re making a living pursuing this queer art form,” I think that my 13-year-old self would be horrified. This might be my biggest fear at the time, realized. 

First, I would give my 13-year-old self a giant hug. I think I would say, “You are wonderful as you are and just let your inner star shine. At the time, I did everything I could to make myself smaller and to try to hide the fact that I was gay, even though I was just naturally more feminine and flamboyant growing up. I did everything I could to hide that, with my clothes, with the way I walked around. Everything was a performance. I would just say, “Hey, baby, breathe, let it all out. It’s gonna be okay. Own who you are.”

What does it mean to you to have your first full-length one-woman show center on a Jewish narrative?

I grew up in a pretty Jewish suburb of Philadelphia, on the Main Line. I feel like growing up, I kind of took my Judaism for granted. In seventh grade, there was a bar or bat mitzvah every single weekend. Judaism was so prevalent that it wasn’t a huge part of my identity. 

But now we’re in a time where there is this rise in antisemitism and you can feel it. In my other gigs, I have made some self-deprecating jokes in the mic about being Jewish — as Jews do with Jewish humor. Before it was just a part of my act, but now I have this inner voice in the back of my head saying “Is it safe to say this? Is it safe to make these jokes? Is it safe to be openly Jewish?” Since coming out and embracing myself fully, I’ve been really proud to be queer. Now I feel like the show is helping me be more proudly Jewish. It’s been wonderful working with Stuart Meyers, who has done a lot of queer Jewish work and queer Jewish art, because he’s kind of pushed me to embrace my Judaism even more and pull things out in the show in relation to my Jewish identity even more, so it’s been really exciting. We have to continue to be visible and proud and continue to advocate for ourselves and everyone that is marginalized in the global majority.

Do you feel like making this show has helped you process the trauma from your bar mitzvah party and given you a second chance at celebrating?

That is the structure of the show in a way, where I have the chance to do it all over again. It’s a queering of this Jewish rite of passage. The whole show, in a way, is like a redo of my own bar mitzvah, but now I’m in drag as a woman — but I’m not a woman, and I’m also very gender-queer. It’s a beautiful way to explore what it means to be a man and to explore your gender identity and sexuality. 

This has definitely helped me process my bar mitzvah and re-own this moment that was kind of tragic. In general, my bar mitzvah was a wonderful event — this moment just clouded it. I think that wounds can continue to heal and come back and they can surprise you like, “Oh, I thought I got over that.” So revisiting this moment has definitely brought some things up to the surface that I’m able to now heal from. 

I rewatched the video of my service many, many times while putting the show together. I had a wonderful support system in my parents, but I don’t think I fully realized that at the time because I felt so alone and othered in school. So it’s really healing to be able to look back and listen to the speeches that my parents made at my bar mitzvah. Watching myself in the video, I look awkward and I don’t like that my parents are saying nice things about me and I’m probably not fully paying attention and kind of dissociating because it’s uncomfortable. But to look back now — my parents are so sweet. My dad said that he appreciated how sensitive I was and how gentle I was. These are things that I was bullied for, because they’re not “masculine.” But at my bar mitzvah, he was saying you’re a man because of all of these things. That’s just so beautiful. 

I’m excited to bring it to an audience. I’m sure that healing will happen even more when it’s in front of a live audience and I’m hoping that the same thing will happen for them as well. I hope bringing the specificity of this event to my show will allow people to bring the specificity of their own moments growing up Jewish or growing up queer and find healing and celebration.

What else can people expect at the show?

There are going to be too many costumes in a short amount of time. I’m really excited for all of these wacky costumes I’m bringing. It’s going to be heartfelt, it’s going to be drag. It’s a full production and I’m so excited to finally bring this to life after sitting on it for all this time. It combines drag lip sync with multimedia — video projections of my bar mitzvah and lots of other very fun, funny things. Of course, I have two backup dancers — it’s a one-woman show, but it’s a one-woman drag show, so that means that you need to have two backup dancers. It’s a fully realized show with a plot and a beginning, middle and end.

“Today You Are a Man!,” is playing at The Tank NYC (312 W. 36th St.) Jan 18-20 at 9:30 p.m. and Jan. 21 at 7 p.m. Tickets start at $15.

[hello-nichya-here]

Do you think Michael ever hooked up with some of his more famous female friends (Diana Ross, Liz Taylor, Brooke Shields)? Kind of crazy that the accusations made people forget how many women he had been very close with. One day everyone is wondering if he's about marry one of them, the next they're convinced he's gay

Considering Michael himself said that, to him, Diana was a friend, as well as his mother and lover, and that Liz then described her own friendship with him in sort of the same way, one thing we know for sure is that, regardless of what did or did not happen:

Michael clearly had a lot of love for them both, and again, he was very clear on it absolutely having crossed the line from platonic to romantic, at least on his end, but he was just never the type to talk too much about his personal life, and I tend to avoid saying "They totally hooked up" unless he or the woman in question states, very clearly, that it happened.

With Brooke Shields, it was far more clear-cut: they dated. Michael said as much. I know Brooke didn't give a direct answer when asked, only that they both had crushes on each other at some point, but we need to take into account that:

1 - She knew how Michael was. Talking too much about stuff regarding his personal life like that wasn't exactly the way to stay in his good graces.

2 - Brooke had quite a messy life and difficult relationship with the media too - mainly with regards to how over-sexualized she had been from a young age. There was a playboy photoshoot of her when she was TEN YEARS OLD. It's not at all surprising that now that she had any say on what happened in her life, she didn't want to draw too much attention to anything private because the media would take her over-sexualized image as permission to be super invasive

3 - Even without confirming they were more than friends, she was still asked insane shit like "Have you ever seen Michael's dick? What does it look like?" Who could blame her for not wanting to get into the topic of them dating? God knows when he married Lisa Marie the media was two seconds away from demanding a sex-tape as "proof" that their marriage was real, they would have done the same to Brooke.

And here's the thing with the media (and part of the public) being so quick to treat the acusations against Michael as 100% true even with the supposed "evidence" for it literally being laughed out of court MULTIPLE times through the decades: they already thought he was gay.

Michael wasn't really interested in pretending to be something he wasn't, and unlike a lot of famous men, he had more important things to do than to try and hook up with as many hot women as possible and then make sure everybody knew it. Whenever he DID flirt, hook up with, or date someone, he was in no rush to let the world know. Quite the contrary actually, because people would take it as permission to meddle in his life and relationships.

And that immediately made him stand out because HE WAS MICHAEL JACKSON! He was THE guy that could get any woman, famous or not, to throw herself at him. Even his far less famous brothers did it! It was the norm, and because of that, people simply could not accept that he WAS attracted to women - after all, he wasn't treating them like trophies to make other people jealous!

Half the times they only questioned him about the women in his life because they KNEW he wouldn't give a direct answer, both due to a desire for his own privacy and out of respect for them (and, of course, because him being "taken" would ruin the fantasy some fans had of dating him). They only ever asked to use that lack of concrete answer to go "See? Still no girlfriend or wife in sight despite being surround by so many hot, famous women! He MUST be gay!"

Hollywood has sinonymous of scandals, and sometimes full on crimes, for decades now and the media NEEDS that so they can make money. They NEED those mega stars to start out seemingly as perfect and wholesome, only to then be "exposed" as frauds, addicts, cheaters, criminals, whatever. It doesn't even have to be true, it just has to shock.

That's why they were calling him racist for "bleaching his skin" even after he explained that he had vitiligo. That's why they were constantly trying to act like he and his sister Janet were fighting once she became a star. That's why they made up absurd stuff like "Michael Jackson is gonna have a sex-change" out of the blue.

They wanted a scandal that could ruin him, and they finally found something that would do the trick - and then still had to watch him be adored by BILLIONS, even after he was long gone, even after his image had been tarnished.

That's why you still see bullshit stories "exposing" him coming up every few years. It's the media going "YOU CAN'T LIKE HIM ANYMORE, WE REVOKED YOUR PERMISSION TO, REMEMBER?"

[brooklynmuseum]

Quintessential 1990s pop aesthetics are on full display in the “Too Funky” music video.

Released in 1992, the music video was directed by Thierry Mugler alongside George Michael, who at the time, had filed a lawsuit against his record label and was refusing to appear in his music videos. Instead, he assembled an extraordinary cast of supermodels, actresses, and performers to lip-sync his songs. In the video, Mugler contrasted the glamour of a fashion show runway with the chaos behind the scenes. 

📷 Emil Larsson (born Sweden). Prêt-à-porter spring/summer 1992. Les Cow-boys collection, Hand-painted Plexiglas “motorcycle fairing” bustier (Jean-Jacques Urcun), quilted heart on the back. Metal spike-heeled, hand-painted leather ankle boots. © Emil Larsson → Emil Larsson (born Sweden). Prêt-à-porter Spring/Summer 1991 collection (“Superstar Diana Ross”). Metal bra, shorts, articulated armpieces, and helmet, made in collaboration with Jean-Pierre Delcros. © Emil Larsson → Emil Larsson (born Sweden). Prêt-à-porter spring/summer 1992. Les Cow-boys collection, Rubber-lace slit sheath with pagoda sleeves. © Emil Larsson

[fyeahzandrarhodes]

Zandra Rhodes' new autobiography, Iconic: My Life in Fashion in 50 Objects, is out now.

'In this insightful memoir, Zandra shares her life story for the first time. Told through a variety of mementos collected over the years, it is a vibrant account filled with rockstars and royalty, of life-changing friendships and poignant reflections on her personal triumphs and tragedies, as well as the fears, sacrifices and pressures that come with being an era-defining designer.

Full of poignant reflections and life lessons on achieving success while defying convention, Zandra takes the reader right alongside her as she recounts being inspired by her avant-garde mother to her time at the Royal College, from a road trip to Rome with Ossie Clark and Celia Birtwell, to opening her first London store thanks to a kind loan from Vanessa Redgrave with Joe Cocker singing With a Little Help From My Friends, from hanging out with Andy Warhol and Halston in New York's Studio 54 to lifelong friendships with legends such as Karl Lagerfeld and Diana Vreeland; from designing for everyone from Freddie Mercury to Diana Ross, Princess Diana to Barbra Streisand to founding the Fashion and Textile Museum.

Capturing the rich and unexpected life of a British icon, this memoir explores what it is to defy the norm.'

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

Back to School Questionnaire '83 Hawkins High Sophomore Year

What is your full name? Diana Giselle Sinclair

Does your name mean anything? I was named after Diana Ross, my moms favourite singer and my middle name is my grandma’s name on my mom’s side. 

Who is in your immediate family? My mom and dad, my little brother, Lucas and my little sister, Erica. 

What is your job? Do you like it? I don’t have a job. Not yet anyway. 

Who is your most important relationship? I can’t pick one person, but definitely my family and friends are very important to me. 

Where do you live in the world? Hawkins, Indiana.

What is your favourite food? Movie? Song? Colour? My favourite food is French fries, my favourite movie is Flashdance, my favourite song is Candy Girl by New Edition, and my favourite colour is pink. 

What is your least favourite food? Movie? Song? Colour? My least favourite food is eggs, I don’t like horror movies and I don’t really have a least favourite song or colour.

How do you dress on a daily basis? I wear a lot of dresses, skirts, cardigans, sweaters, leggings, leg warmers. I love scrunchies, blouses, denim jeans, anything girly.

What is your biggest pet peeve? I don’t like when people chew loud. It’s gross. 

What's your biggest secret? I want to go to Juilliard.

What do you want more than anything? I want to see Prince in concert.

What TV shows do you watch? Fame.

Do you have any hobbies? Dance, listening to music.

What is your most treasured possession? My gold necklace my parents bought me for Christmas last year.

[champagnemoon]

Diana Ross singing Bey happy birthday in full regalia is real 70s and 80s grande dame behavior…like that’s something real divas do for other divas

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Sussex Divorce Rumors

Well, we seem to be on #divorcewatch with Radar Online’s scoop that Harry and Meghan are “taking a break.” (Y’all remember who else said they were “on a break” before they broke up? Harry’s favorite TV show, and I’m pretty sure Meghan enjoys it too because I feel like we’ve read about it in her PR. I bet we can look forward to similar shenanigans in the PR war.)

(If you’re not familiar, on FRIENDS, Ross and Rachel decided to “take a break.” Rachel thought that to mean they were together but not going out. Ross thought it meant they had broken up so Ross dated someone else. Rachel found out Ross was dating and she flipped out, there was a big fight and it was a recurring theme throughout the rest of the series. I bet we’ll see similar accusations in War of the Sussexes.)

Anyway, I thought I would repost a wrap-up I did a few months ago of all the divorce rumors I’ve been tracking. See the original post here. (The original post also included divorce rumors about all the royals.) These rumors are through February 2023. I’ll update with rumors from March to the present soon.

The list is below the jump.

Sussexes to divorce before first anniversary. (Betting odds, May 2018)

Sussexes to divorce before third anniversary. (Betting odds, May 2018)

Sussexes to divorce before fifth anniversary. (Betting odds, May 2018)

The Sussex divorce will take place in wintertime, when it is snowing outside. Meghan will shock everyone with the announcement. Harry will be caught totally off-guard. (2019)

Megxit because Meghan threatened to leave and divorce Harry if he didn’t support her. (January 2020)

Harry’s diplomatic immunity as a Counselor of State will force California to send their divorce proceedings to London. Any of California’s laws dictating divorce proceedings or custody will not be applicable. (April 2021)

Harry to file for divorce or leave Meghan if his Counselor of State status is revoked because it conveys a certain diplomatic immunity that would invoke the State Department to move divorce proceedings to London. (April 2021)

Lili is a save-the-marriage baby. (June 2021)

Sussexes are secretly divorced. (November 2021)

Harry will return to the UK/BRF on the original half-in/half-out scheme after the divorce. (March 2022)

Harry left Meghan and bought an apartment in Turtle Bay, NYC, near the UN. He lives there full-time. (March 2022)

Secret Sussex visit to Windsor to initiate divorce proceedings. (April 2022)

Harry and/or the BRF to get full custody of the children after the divorce. (May 2022)

Harry will remarry and adopt more children after leaving Meghan. (May 2022)

Meghan to have a third marriage to a Saudi/Middle Eastern businessman and live quietly in the UK with shared custody of Archie and Lili after the divorce. No more children for her. (May 2022)

Harry and Meghan to divorce in 2025. (May 2022)

If Meghan leaves Harry and initiates the divorce, she will use Diana’s divorce timeline. (June 2022)

Harry will give up titles received for the wedding before the divorce so Meghan cannot use the titles post-divorce. (June 2022)

Harry will leave Meghan and blame it on a mental health crisis. (June 2022)

Meghan will leave Harry and blame it on his insulting/attacking the US Constitution. She will use the divorce announcement/timing to announce political candidacy or other political aspirations. (July 2022)

Meghan to appear on the cover of US Vogue as a condition of the divorce settlement. (August 2022)

Meghan will sell her private journals from royal days for profit after the divorce. (August 2022)

Meghan has moved out of Montecito and into the Beverly Hills Hotel to be with her new boyfriend. (August 2022)

Meghan’s new boyfriend is wealthy, connected, and white. (August 2022)

Meghan does not want custody of the children but will fight for it in the divorce. (August 2022)

Meghan moved back into the Montecito Mansion to create the illusion of a single mom with a playboy husband, who only has her mother for support, for her divorce narrative. (August 2022)

Meghan will work with Sunshine Sachs to tear Harry down the moment the Sussex divorce is public. (August 2022)

Meghan and Harry separated, on the way to a 2023 divorce. Harry travels frequently to the UK when it’s not his time with the children to re-establish domicile for custody fight. (August 2022)

Charles to accept Harry back into the firm as a full-time working royal after the divorce. (September 2022)

Meghan threatened to leave Harry if she was uninvited or sidelined during the Queen’s funeral. That’s why he was demanding she travel to Balmoral with him. (September 2022)

Sussex divorce to be handled in England. Meghan will be represented by a bulldog American lawyer. It will be similar to the Paul McCartney/Heather Mills divorce - as acrimoniously and with Meghan doing some kind of stunt that backfires. (September 2022)

Harry to leave Meghan by the end of 2022 in response to his stripped status at The Queen’s funeral. (September 2022)

Harry to get full physical and legal custody of the children in the divorce and live in Frogmore Cottage with them. (September 2022)

Harry to leave Meghan between October 15, 2022, - November 14, 2022. (September 2022)

Meghan’s threat in The Cut about not signing NDAs and having journals was a threat to Harry to stop him from leaving her, not the BRF. (September 2022)

Meghan to publish her own memoir about Harry post-divorce. (September 2022)

Sussexes had a private meeting with Charles while in London for Queen’s funeral to negotiate terms of the divorce, including timing and announcement. (September 2022)

Harry to physically, mentally, and publicly leave Meghan to return to the BRF by October 31, 2022. (September 2022)

Meghan will give an exclusive Oprah-like interview but not to Oprah, in which she pops off about “her truth” and how the BRF mistreated her during the jubilee, The Queen’s funeral, and Charles’s coronation. This will cause Harry to leave her. (September 2022)

Charles will not accept Harry back into the firm at all after a divorce. (September 2022)

Sussexes to divorce after Netflix and PRH book obligations end. (September 2022)

Meghan is cheating with a married man and wants to leave Harry for him but the new partner has said he doesn’t want a future with Meghan and it’s just a fun affair for him. (October 2022)

Sussexes to divorce by March 2023. (October 2022)

Sussexes have begun divorce proceedings and have formally separated. (October 2022)

If Harry returns to the UK without Meghan and divorces her, then Charles will pay back the remainder of the PRH book advances and sort out financial/legal troubles with Netflix. (October 2022)

A Sussex scandal will precede Harry’s divorce announcement. Both the scandal and the announcement will catch Meghan off-guard. (October 2022)

Harry and Meghan are separated. Harry will spend Christmas at Sandringham with the BRF. (October 2022)

Meghan to launch a PR war against Harry for leaving her at Christmastime. (October 2022)

Meghan and Harry have been separated since August 2021; Harry lives in San Francisco. (October 2022)

Harry left Meghan and lives with Eugenie in Portugal. (November 2022)

Harry went into involuntary rehab after a drug- and alcohol-fueled fight with Meghan following The Queen’s funeral and his public “demotion.” Courts forced them to separate and they are not allowed to live together. Charles will pay Meghan a huge settlement when they finally divorce to keep the court details sealed/private. (November 2022)

Sussex divorce announcement on or by December 17, 2022.

Sussex divorce announcement on or by January 23, 2023.

Charles/the BRF will influence Harry’s terms of the divorce settlement: they will allow Harry to return and have his IPP/security detail back, but he will not be a working royal and kept out of the public eye under very strict parameters. Meghan’s access to the BRF will be cut off and any attempt at a compromise that sees her coming back to London or attending royal events will kick Harry out of both the firm and Britain, and the BRF will take custody of the children. (November 2022)

Sussex divorce by March 2023. (November 2022)

Divorce/separation negotiations are going poorly and Meghan is lashing out via Kerry Kennedy’s criticism and the Kennedy Do-Good award. (November 2022)

Pictures of Archie on a Zoom call were leaked with Meghan’s authorization and indicate that she and Harry are separated, because Harry is the only one who demands and expects the children’s privacy. (November 2022)

Meghan has tapes, audio and video, of Harry being wildly drunk and/or abusive, which will come out in the divorce. Divorce will be acrimonious and messy like the Heard/Depp divorce. (December 2022)

Harry suspending his press lawsuits signals that the divorce is imminent and he is moving back to London. (December 2022)

Harry and Meghan to divorce when the money runs out and they cannot make profitable multi-million dollar deals anymore. (December 2022)

Meghan to leave and divorce Harry when America turns on her. (December 2022)

Sussex divorce announcement to come on the eve of Charles’s coronation, overshadowing the weekend. (December 2022)

The BRF intends to prove/accuse Harry and Meghan as unfit parents to take custody of the children during divorce proceedings. (December 2022)

Doria will testify on Meghan’s behalf about the children’s custody during divorce proceedings to help Meghan win custody; however, the court will question Doria’s absence from Meghan’s childhood and uncover something that will undermine her credibility, which tanks Meghan’s case for custody. (December 2022)

Meghan to leave Harry and use Spare as evidence/justification. (January 2023)

Meghan to file for divorce citing irreconcilable differences. (January 2023)

Sussex divorce to be epic, on par with War of the Wales. (January 2023)

Sussex divorce to begin after Harry’s book tour obligations end. (January 2023)

Harry has a pre-separation agreement in place with Meghan that protects him from all business arrangements and debts made during the marriage in return for silence on certain topics. (January 2023)

Meghan to announce the divorce after William and Kate announce a fourth pregnancy or birth of a fourth child. (January 2023)

Sussex divorce announcement between February 19, 2023, - March 21, 2023. (January 2023)

Sussex divorce to take place in California so Meghan can keep primary custody of the children and earn monthly alimony/child support from the BRF. (January 2023)

Meghan has created an extravagant life in Montecito so when she divorces Harry, she can argue to the court that the children have an exceptional standard of living, which the court will require Harry/the BRF to maintain with alimony/child support payments equivalent to current standard. (January 2023)

Meghan and/or the BRF to use Harry’s admissions of drug and alcohol abuse in Spare and the promo tour against him during the divorce and custody proceedings. (January 2023)

Harry to be placed under a 5150/conservatorship due to his addiction and other issues by the BRF or Meghan in divorce proceedings to show he is unfit for custody. (January 2023)

Sussex terms of divorce to include an agreement that anything of Diana’s (including trust money and jewelry) will automatically go towards the children and cannot be used or accessed by Meghan. (January 2023)

Harry’s dirt from California will start leaking in March as a precursor to the divorce. Meghan will be the one leaking and use it as threats to get what she wants. (January 2023)

Harry to have a catfish scandal on Instagram after divorcing Meghan. (January 2023)

Charles will give Meghan $50 million and generous child support to divorce Harry and return him to London. (January 2023)

Dirt on Meghan’s use of surrogates will be revealed during divorce proceedings. (January 2023)

Charles to be implicated in the cover-up of the Sussexes’ use of a surrogate and he will abdicate or be forced to step back in the fallout. (January 2023)

Sussex divorce in November 2023 (January 2023)

Meghan’s “revenge dress” moment will be related to the Hollywood awards season. (January 2023)

Meghan has a sex tape on the dark web, which will be published/leaked to the “regular” web during the divorce. (January 2023)

Harry will remarry in 2030 - 2031. Meghan will be a non-issue and won’t bother with his new wife. (January 2023)

Security camera footage of Meghan mistreating Charlotte exists and will be leaked during divorce proceedings, causing her to lose custody. (January 2023)

Meghan and Harry have been separated since late 2022. (January 2023)

Sussex divorce between June 2023 and September 2023. (February 2023)

Meghan and Harry are currently legally separated and “will they/won’t they” about the coronation is to keep news of the separation from going public. (February 2023)

[steveinscarlet]

So I did more readable pics of that Joe in the desert article in case people wanted to read it as well as drool over the pictures!

Full text below the cut

Magic roundabout

For their latest tour of the US, Def Leppard have devised a revolutionary way of presenting their brand of arena rock with a stage set in the centre of the venues and surrounded by the audience. All of which makes for a more intimate and more exciting spectacle, according to Paul Elliott. Desert shots Russell Young

Panic in the round. Diana Ross and Kenny Rogers have lived through it, but Def Leppard claim to be the first rock group ever to play America's ice rinks and basketball stadia on a stage set in the centre and fully surrounded by the audiences.

In one stroke, they're making arena rock a more intimate and more exciting spectacle.

The band are closer to all of the crowd, providing more action as they randomly run to each of the stage's four sides. The lighting is imaginative and the sound, from the amps strung up high above them, penetrates the farthest corners.

On this tour, there's never a bad seat in the house, and the higher you can get, the more dramatic the view. Originally dubbed Mensch's Folly (co-manager Peter Mensch came up with the idea for playing in the round after a new, regular stage set had just been finished to the tune of 100,000 dollars!), this production is proving a great success, leaving the fans breathless... and baffled.

How the hell do Leppard get to and from the stage when there's no visible means of escape through the massed paying public?

The Harry Houdinis of rock are giving nothing away.

Stretched out in just swimming trunks and shades, poolside at a star-infested LA hotel (U2, Chrissie Hynde, Jamie Lee Curtis and a few English footballers, past and present, were all hanging out), singer Joe Elliot remains tight-lipped.

"It's not a case of paranoia that we don't want to be spotted. It's the element of surprise; we like to think that everybody goes home wondering how the f*** we got in there in the first place."

"Maybe we slid down to the stage on batpoles. Or maybe we were under the stage from soundcheck onwards."

Maybe.

Out of the dozen American dates that Leppard took in before they reached the West Coast at San Diego, only two have be been played with the stage at one end.

Phoenix, Arizona, was one; a fiery gig, but one which proved them right in thinking that, for the thousands of Joe Sixpacks and rockin' chicks, looking the band right in the eye one or two at a time is a whole lot more fun than squinting, as per usual, at five comparatively tiny and static blurs.

As they continually got in each other's way at Phoenix it also became

obvious that they'd half forgotten how to play to an audience straight ahead.

Playing is the round isn't easy or always possible (in Britain, only Birmingham's NEC could accommodate the 40 tons of gear that has to be hung from the roof). Yet it's different and fresh for band and fans alike.

Joe relishes the challenge, albeit an exhausting one.

"Well, I'd be a liar if I said it wasn't exhausting. The first night we did in the round was like the first gig of the 'Hysteria' tour, in Dublin I think. We did eight days' rehearsal on that stage before the first show, but we still ended up trying to fill the stage too much, and by the end of 'Hit and Run' everybody was looking for a bucket to throw up into."

"After three gigs though, we were really cookin'. It is exhausting, but now we've reached a certain fitness peak we can deal with it, and the set's paced well enough to take care of itself. I enjoy getting kinda hot and sweaty anyway."

Surely this tour will take a lot out of you?

"No," he insists, voice dry and croaky with the heat and dust of the previous night's show. "In fact, I think this tour's gonna be better than anything before, cos we're a lot more prepared for it."

Seven weeks ago Joe gave up booze, he doesn't smoke, and parties as little as possible.

"Now I can go onstage and perform better. The most important thing to me is those two hours a night, and if the other 22 have to be really boring then so be it."

Guitarist Phil Collen was the first to quit drinking a good eight months ago, although that afternoon his voice was rougher than Joe's from the strain of doing plenty of backing vocals.

"It's demanding on Phil and me and, basically, when you can't sing you sound shitty, and when you sound shitty you sound like a shit band. When you don't drink there's no point in going to clubs."

"I'd rather have a quick grapefruit juice back at the hotel bar and go watch Platoon or something. I mean. I'd rather go to a club till five in the morning cos I'm wide awake with all the adrenalin, but I know I can't sing the night after if I do, and for the sake of entertaining myself, I'm not gonna piss off 15,000 kids the following night by singing like Lemmy or somebody."

"No disrespect to the guy," he smiles, "but he wouldn't suit the songs that we do."

Panic in the round?

"Oh it's a constant panic. Under the stage, if one wire wasn't plugged in it'd never get found, and it only takes one person getting their gig wrong to screw up the whole show. So far it hasn't happened."

If panic does rule this tour, it's being played down remarkably well. Over three shows in Tucson, Phoenix, and San Diego (the latter their best gig of the tour so far), the only apparent concerns were for Joe's and Phil's voices.

The only problem drummer Rick Allen has found was walking through the crowd one night, heavily disguised, while unwittingly carrying a piece of paper stuck to his back by guitarist Steve Clark which read 'I am Rick Allen'. And even then the crowd didn't fall for it! Who's he trying to kid?

Clearly, it's the ambitious staging that's the novelty of Def Leppard's US tour, not Rick. He's now so adept with one hand and two feet that he's itching to get a new kit that can keep up with his own rate of progress.

"The stage show is impressive and it is a distraction," nods Joe, "but to be quite honest, I used to think we'd get a lot of people who'd be just peeping through the cymbals to have a look and see where it used to be, y'know, but it hasn't happened, in England or here."

"Basically, it all happened so long ago that people don't care. Being on tour two and a half years after the accident, people just seem to accept it. It's like when Archie Gemmill shaved his beard off (for the uninitiated, Archie Gemmill is a gnome-like ex-Scottish international footballer). He didn't look like Archie Gemmill any more, but after two and a half years, who cares?"

Who indeed?

"There's nothing short of playing upside down next time to top this. The novelty probably is taking a bit of weight off Rick, but at the same time, when it features him, it features him more. He's not hidden behind the rest of us."

"We can either stay in the round in America for the rest of our careers, or we can go back to playing at one end, which'd be a bit of a downer. I'd like to think that we'd play in the round on the next tour too, even if we couldn't play outside cos you'd have to get four helicopters to fly everything from each corner."

Is touring the US like coming home?

"Not really. It's more like going away," he laughs. "In the sense of coming home to the safety of knowing that you can play to a lot of people, then yeah, I suppose it is. Yet in a way it was like starting from scratch."

"We'd kept the cult of 25-year-old males, but we'd lost the little girls. Now they're coming back cos the record's really taking off, and that's why the halls are filling up."

Sure enough, there were plenty of boob tubes in among the beerguts and baseball caps at each show.

"We've not done bad business anywhere other than a few poxy Iittle towns. But I don't get off on business figures. Your bank balance is your own business and it should be that way with a band.

"I'm too sensible a person to let money f*** me up - it's not that important to me. If I had 200 dollars in my pocket and I was hungry I'd sooner just go and have a Big Mac."

And while he does cut a good rock star figure, Joe's Yorkshire brogue still gives him away. Through all their success, Def Leppard haven't gotten precious or affected or untouchable.

There is no Leppard myth. Their bus still stops on an overnight dash fro San Diego up to Los Angeles so that half of them can stumble out into the dark to water the cacti. But even then a pursuing carload of fans pulled up for a gawp.

Def Leppard's current sales figures are impressive. Already a surprise number one LP in the UK (nobody could've been more shocked than the band themselves), 'Hysteria' is edging towards the three million mark in the States at the rate of at Ieast 100,000 per week.

That's way short of 'Pyromania''s seven million plus, but it's still competitive with the three million a piece for 'Bad' and 'The Joshua Tree' - and it's not finished yet.

Peter Mensch reckons that, nowadays, hit singles are more vital than ever to a rock band's survival. A roll of three has broken the previously difficult British market, and in America too they're beginning to come after the initial failure of 'Women'.

'Animal' is picking up the momentum to carry it into the Top 20, and Joe feels that there'll be more to follow.

"I seriously believe that we've got up to five hit singles on this record, even 'Rocket', although it's such an unusual song and such a change from something like 'Sugar', which was an obvious stab at the commercial market."

That's a frank admission.

"Well, it is obvious. The chorus is three chords. I wrote it like that cos it's all I can play. I always have to think commercially. I can't write 'Gods Of War'.

"When I pick up a guitar, I tend to play 'Wild Thing' a lot better than 'All Along The Watchtower'. 'Sugar' was an obvious attempt at a single, as was 'Animal' to a certain extent, although that was a little less obvious, yet it was a bigger hit in Britain by a long way, so there's no set rule."

"But Peter's totally right. You can't survive without hit singles these days cos AOR radio in America isn't responsible for breaking bands in America any more. Bon Jovi's 'Raise Your Hands' was a great live song, but it was hardly played on the radio, so it had nothing to do with 'Slippery When Wet' selling eight million copies. That was through the singles."

"There was a stage where people were snobby about having hits, that it wasn't credible. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! I like the idea of being on Top Of The Pops and on a poster on the back of Jackie. I find it funny."

"About 98 per cent of our stuff is tongue in cheek anyway. When you've got a rhinoceros on one of your videos you can't take yourselves that seriously!"

One consistent criticism of Def Leppard is their live performance; in terms of pure sound quality, the five just can't match the lavish sweep of their last two albums, which is hardly surprising.

Realistically, though, this criticism only applies to the song 'Hysteria' (the band's latest single) at present. While every other number, whatever tempo, sounds full and vibrant, 'Hysteria' still seems a touch clumsy and pushed.

As a particularly cocky squirrel cranes its neck and begins lapping up the pool water, Joe sits up on his sun lounger, skin still white as a milk bottle, and agrees.

"I think we recreate 'Hysteria' (the album) and 'Pyromania' better than we ever did before, but there's still certain things you can't physically do. When we do the track 'Hysteria', Sav (bass player Rick Savage) and Phil are doing harmonies that are done with about 200 voices on the record.

"We've always been a band who've wanted to get it right on record. It's the only opportunity you have to try to create your own perfection or whatever. And live, you go out to entertain."

"If you want perfection you stay at home and listen to the record. If something's a bit flat live, it's because someone's probably doing a double somersault while they're doing that flat chord!"

"I don't really stand still at all, and you can only really sing properly when you're stood still. But if I did, it'd look silly. I might sound out of breath sometimes, but wouldn't you doing what I'm doing?"

He shrugs his shoulders.

"It ain't an exact copy, but I don't think it lacks that much. There are nights when I can't hack it as well as I'd like, but that's because I've been hacking it really well for the previous four evenings and I'm just shot. Last night I sang OK, but half my job isn't singing, it's getting an audience going."

"The thing is, we set such a standard with our records. Things like 'Tear It Down' (in the UK, the B-side of 'Animal') sound as good, if not better, live. But if we did ten 'Tear It Down''s we'd just become an average rock band."

"What we do on record, five people can't physically do, but we don't want to take out an orchestra, we want it to be us, and we'd rather sound a bit weaker and know that it's us."

Maybe 'weak' isn't such a good word. If 'Hysteria' sounds ragged then it also sounds human. Better that than cheat with tapes, as Whitesnake's Rudy Sarzo was convinced Leppard did.

After all, Def Leppard's sometimes slow, sometimes breakneck rise both over here and over there owes something to polish, but a whole lot more to pure guts.