#Lolla Things

[sugaggukkie]

Back from the dead for more kpop opinions no one asked for but I have to share: Le Sserafim at Coachella edition:

You would think the way people online were talking about this set, the girlies went on stage and BOMBED. I was prepared to watch the worst live set I’ve ever seen. INSTEAD. It was so fun?????? Like incredibly undeniably extremely super fucking FUN!!!!!!!!!! I literally can’t believe the shit yall say on dolly parton’s internet about this group.

Firstly. Since the SECOND I got into kpop all I have seen is endless debate on the overuse of lip syncing and vocal smoothing and loud backtracks etc etc etc and I have always always always been on the side, as someone who has seen quite literally hundreds of live sets, of LIVE. VOCALS. I want to hear breathing I want to hear cracks I want to hear imperfections I want to hear actual singing from a real live person standing on stage. Were their vocals perfect? Obviously not. Were they still giving it their all, dancing at full energy, and putting on an insanely fun show???? YEAH GIRL. Not one person on planet earth bar beyonce can dance at that level and give absolutely flawless vocals and for the energy they were expending the vocals still sounded fine and most importantly, conveyed the emotion of the set they were going for. It was high energy! It was hot and fun! It was a party! Of course they’re going to yell and scream and hype up the crowd and run around, THANK GOD THEY DID.

Secondly, if I had watched it and the crowd hated it and the energy was bad and everything was awkward and weird that’d be one thing. But the ENTIRE time everyone in the crowd was losing their minds, screaming the girls’ names, and SINGING ALONG!!!!!!!! The energy was so good and fun and you could tell everyone there was having a blast which in my opinion is the absolute 100% nonnegotiable most important part of a live set.

Thirdly, I’ve watched all of their encores, other live stages by them, and I feel like I know what they sound like live in general and this was actually truly leagues better than they’ve been in the past and that wasn’t because their vocals were worlds better, they were definitely improved but not by like A TON. what actually made this their best performance I’ve ever seen was how fucking fun the entire set was and how you could tell what they practiced was their actual stage presence and the show they put on and it PAID OFF!!!!!!!!!! The entire thing was just so enjoyable to watch and I truly didn’t want it to end because you could tell they were having so much fun and really working the crowd.

My favorite parts were eve psyche in English, the bit about going out for a drink but then realizing eunchae and kazhua are underage, the live band, THE NEW SONG!!!!!! WHERE THE HECK IS SAKI!!!!!! and of course “Coachella shake some fucking ass”

In conclusion, you guys don’t go to enough live shows, don’t know anything about what makes a performance good, love to be miserable, and hate having fun. I on the other hand, who love to have fun, love talented young ladies putting on a great show, and love live music for all its flaws and imperfections, had an absolute blast watching this set.

[lq-skz]

[kettlechip-krispy-kreme]

i hate living in a city where there's a music festival and then another music festival literally a month later and no one cares about covid so its basically 2 back to back super spreader events

[georgespaniel]

i want to gif more things but i always worry that everything i'm giffing has already been done before :(

[master-gatherer]

Reading about the nascar race coming into Chicago this summer and it's like that episode of the Simpsons where they build the monorail

[jinostooth]

puppybrain kind of day

[sauva7710n]

BOO IN THE JUNGLE

[issejj]

hello from 05062023 : (left) my first makers marker in years; (right) leaving two ceramic mugs, two crescent moon rings, a coffee salt, a wooden bowl, an illustrated print, and a few local sourced tea bags heavy

i am only two weeks into this 100-day challenge, where i tackle projects i’ve always wanted to start within the last ten years (some work related, some art related, and others are lingering curiosities). one of the long list of objectives in this endeavor is attending more makers events, art/film festivals, and other events of the like. it just as important to me to consume and interact with other creators and not just make, make, make in private. was a little shy meeting most of these vendors, i promise i’ll get better at this lol

for now, might just make posts like this for each one i’ll attend (?)

[lucysgraybird]

to be clear i have no problem with lower voices i think they can be beautiful but like we don't need to lie

got a tiktok about a certain nepo baby yesterday about how crazy high she's singing and i was like oh ill watch bc idk her music that well! tell me why the highest note was a C5 at MOST

[bahablastplz]

All In | Chapter 8

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: you must come to terms with what has just happened and face the fact that you’re still no longer safe

a/n: early chapter post because I’m at a music festival this weekend (not lolla) and it’s my birthday!! if there are any formatting issues it’s because i’m in the middle of fucking nowhere and i had to upload on my phone. enjoy!!!~~

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

Felix drives you in a car that you have been in before. You have half the mind to think that you’ve never really seen him drive before, but instead you let yourself wallow in your sorrow. Neither of you speak on the drive. Your tears don’t stop flowing, and he doesn’t bother to ask you about it. The silence is welcomed.

Until he gets a call about twenty minutes into the car ride. Your silence is interrupted as he picks up the phone. Voices are muffled, and you know it’s intentional that he doesn’t put the phone on speaker. You don’t try to eavesdrop anyway. You’ve had enough drama for the night.

Or so you thought. Because when Felix suddenly hangs up the phone and whips the car around 180 degrees, that same panic from earlier bubbles back in your throat.

“Sorry,” he winces as you hold onto the car door handle, taken aback from his movements. You look at him with wide, sad eyes and you can tell from the grimace present on his features that he’s hesitant about what he’s about to tell you. “Um… change of plans. So, we have Minho, erm, Lee Know. He’s safe but his condition is rapidly declining. Really bad news, um, Lee Heeseung was planning an assassination attempt against Jungwon. Either way now that Jungwon is… gone, Heeseung is the next in charge and, from what Lee Know gathers, you’re next on his list. The house is not safe for you.”

You don’t even answer him, finding yourself subconsciously rocking back and forth to soothe yourself. You bury your head in your thighs, instead. A hand touches your shoulder, hesitant but rubbing soothing circles into your skin. With a deep sigh, you welcome it.

“Where are we going?” you finally muster up the courage to ask without looking at the man beside you.

“We’ll find somewhere. Hyunjin sent me the location of a motel in the area.”

You nod at him, and it’s not much later that you pull up into the lot of said motel. It’s packed, but Felix manages to find an empty parking spot and flips the car in with ease. You go to open the door but he stops you.

“Um, I think I need to go inside alone, just to book the room? Um, sorry it’s just, you’re covered with blood, and there’s no need to raise suspicions yeah? It’ll take five minutes, promise.” He goes to open up his door but looks at you. “Will you be okay?”

You’re about to point out that you’re not the only one covered in blood, suddenly noticing the crimson substance tainting the elegant white suit from earlier this evening, but as if he’s read your mind he shrugs off his jacket, leaving just his undershirt. You stare for just a second too long.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine,” you say. He nods his head. You both know it’s a lie.

“It’ll be alright. Just lock the doors once I’m gone. Five knocks and I’m back, okay? Five knocks for Felix. Right. Okay then.”

And the door slams shut. You roll your eyes at the suggestion of locking the door–you would be just fine without it–but still, reach and hit the lock button the second he’s out of sight. You hit it ten times more, just to be safe.

And you’re left in the car, alone. The only thing to be heard is your breathing, heavy and loud, but it gets you to take notice of how abnormal it is and you will yourself to slow it down. You close your eyes, reclining the seat, listening to the beating of the wind against the car door, as it creaks and sways.

You’re alive.

After all this time, you’re alive, after you’ve kissed death’s doorstep more times than you’d like to admit.

When the five knocks come on the car window, you jump despite knowing it's coming. You unlock the car and Felix opens your door, looking at you sheepishly. An arm wraps around your waist and he helps you out of the car, allowing you to put your weight on him. He guides you to the door of the motel in silence. When he unlocks the door and swings it open, you laugh. You can't help it.

“Felix, why is there only one bed?”

He guides you to sit down on it and you look up at him as he locks and deadbolts the motel door behind him.

“This was the only vacancy left,” he says softly. Tears are running down your face and it feels ridiculous that you allow something this small to push you further down the edge.

“We couldn't have found another fucking motel?” It had been a long day, and you had just wanted to lay down, alone.

“Just um… for your protection, the more people around, the harder it is to find you.” It was strange seeing Felix so flustered, a slight blush running uncharacteristically up his cheeks and ears. You roll your eyes, a slight pang in your chest for giving him such an attitude when he hadn’t done anything wrong. You don’t vocalize that, though.

“Whatever, yeah. I'm going to go take a shower. This dress is fucking uncomfortable.” You storm into the dingy bathroom, not meaning to slam the door behind you. The lights flicker to life, buzzing and giving you an unflattering glow in the mirror. You peel the dress off and it slumps to the floor. A layer of blood, dirt and grime covers your skin everywhere but where the dress covered your figure. Your makeup and hair that you had spent so long delicately applying looks wrecked, large clumps of black mascara congealed on your skin. You’re covered in scrapes and scratches all over, a small bruise already forming from where Woojin had struck you.

When will you be able to look in the mirror and recognize yourself again? These past few weeks have left you beaten and bruised and your life has been turned completely upside down. Everytime you look in the mirror a situation leaves you with a new wound, a new something to take care of, a new array of ugly purples and greens and browns littering your skin. Your wrist brace is still on, despite everything, though it’s filthy as well, and removing it reveals the same ugly hues on your skin you had come to hate. What have you gotten yourself into?

You cry when you're in the shower. You really, really cry. It's ugly, it's loud, but it's cathartic. You have cried so much more than you’re willing to admit these past few days. Tears and snot run down the poorly cleaned motel shower drain along with the evidence of the past day. The evidence that Yang Jungwon is dead. The evidence that whatever you've become a part of there's no leaving. No amount of scrubbing your skin raw with a rough washcloth and cheap vanilla soap can erase this fact.

You feel like you’ve been born anew by the time you step out of the shower, thoroughly cleaned yet a little emotionally drained. As you towel dry your body, you look at your gown’s place on the ground. No way in hell are you going to put that on your body again. Wrapping yourself in a slightly fluffy yet matted white robe, you peek outside the bathroom door.

“Felix, I don’t have any clothes–Felix?” As you peer outside into the small room, one thing is evident. Felix is not here. The motel door is no longer deadbolted. Your thoughts run faster than you’d like.

Where is he? Did Heeseung come and get him? Does that mean that Heeseung is around here somewhere as well? Are you in danger? Is Felix okay?

“Felix?” you call. You start looking around the room frantically despite all logic. You open the closet door. You even look under the bed, as if he would be hiding there (He’s not). Your breathing gets heavy and frantic, not for the first time this night. “Felix! Felix? Where are you? Felix?” As you reach to open the door, someone beats you to it.

You scream.

A hand covers your mouth, barely muffling your noises, but as you cry you hear the familiar cadence of his voice. “Shhh, shhhh, hey! It’s okay. It’s alright, I’m right here.” When you see Felix in front of you you wrap your arms around him for a second. His hand touches the small of your back, a gesture of comfort. Then, as if better judgment has appeared, you shove him away harshly. When you look at him you feel anger bubble up in your chest.

“Where were you?” You hate how anxious his brief absence made you feel.

“I had to make a call. And um, get some supplies.” He lifts up the contents of his hands that you had failed to see. Two plastic bags. You take a moment to look Felix up and down. Dark circles frame the undersides of his eyes and his hair is the same amount of disheveled as yours was before your shower.

When he unpacks a box with greasy diner food you nearly moan. The hunger in the pit of your stomach hadn’t made itself apparent until just now, probably overwhelmed with the amalgamation of other emotions swirling in your gut.

He throws you the contents of the other bag. Clothes. Thank God, you think, though you haven’t had time to become embarrassed by your current state, clad in loosely-tied bathrobe. Wordlessly, you step back into the bathroom and change.

You laugh in disbelief when you see the outfit he purchased. You’re thankful nonetheless, especially for the thoughtfulness behind buying you a bra and underwear, even if they’re cheap.

When you step out, you look at him inquisitively.

“Felix, where did you find an ‘I love New York’ t-shirt?” You ask, looking down at your new apparel. “We aren’t even in America.” You don’t mention that your pajama pants are at least two sizes too big.

“Listen, it's three A.M. This was all I could find,” he explains. 3 A.M.?! You realize the implications of his words, meaning that you had been in that warehouse for at least five hours, and you suppress a shudder. You shrug your shoulders and sit down, accepting the food that Felix offers.

When Felix leaves to shower, you cozy up into the motel bed. You appreciate the silence, though the air conditioning rattles and the shower stream can be heard. In the meantime you turn off the overhead light and flick on the bedside lamp. You flip through the TV and turn on the first thing you can find to distract you. It's some RomCom you haven't seen before and you chuckle at the irony of it. While you wish your life could be a RomCom and you are surrounded by attractive men at every corner, they're the most dangerous men in the country and some of them want you dead.

You start to drift off when Felix steps out of the bathroom. He is illuminated by the lamplight, showing his wet hair that sits just past his shoulders. You smile to see that he is wearing pajamas identical to yours, and for a second you think; you are the same. But you are not the same. You and Felix are here for very different reasons. You smile nonetheless.

When he grabs a blanket and sits on the floor you furrow your brow.

“Felix? What are you doing?” You inquire. Your voice comes out quiet, riddled with a sleep-like haze.

“I was going to sleep on the floor,” he says softly. “Don’t worry about me. Just go to sleep, okay?”

You sit up in the bed and yawn, stretching your arms out in a way that is not unlike that of a cat. You rub your eyes in confusion as his words register with you.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” you say. “Get in bed.”

“No no, it’s okay,” he responds. He stretches out on the floor and closes his eyes, as if to show you ‘no really, I’m comfortable down here.’

With a loud groan you get out of bed, wrapping yourself tight with your blanket as you flop onto the floor on the other side of the bed, just out of sight.

“No no no,” he says, though the way his accent softens the vowel and makes your lips quirk up. “What are you doing?”

“If the only way to get you in that bed is for me to not be in it, then so be it, Felix. Now, let me sleep,” you grumble. You’re being petty and you know it, but you really feel adamant about him not sleeping on the floor. You were just being a pain earlier and you didn’t mean your words.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Y/N,” he says. You can hear him sit up.

“Watch me,” you spit. “You’re sleeping on that bed whether you like it or not.”

“Y/N.” He says your name seriously this time, like a warning.

“Felix,” you respond in the same tone. “Just lay in the damn bed. I’ve had a long day and I’m tired of fighting, what the fuck–” Before you can register it, your body is in the air. Because you’re wrapped so thoroughly in your blanket, any attempts to flail your limbs about are futile. Felix lifts you so effortlessly that it’s almost laughable, and when he throws you on the bed you noticeably bounce. A sound leaves your body that’s like a mixture of a laugh and a scream, but you try to cover it up with the words that leave your mouth next:

“Felix I swear to God if you don’t sleep in this bed instead, oh. Okay.” You’re silent as Felix gets into the bed next to you with a huff and rolls over, not facing you. You can tell he’s annoyed by your kerfuffle, though you’re not sure if he really means it. You reach over finally and turn out the bedside lamp, submerging the room in darkness.

“Sorry,” you whisper. The word dissipates into the air, spoken to no one but yourself.

Despite knowing that you are both far from asleep, you don’t talk. There’s nothing to talk about, and nothing either of you want to hear. You’re grateful for Felix in this moment, though, and you feel more protected than you have in a very long time just having him by your side.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You’re running through the forest. That very same forest that you ran through that first night, a glimpse of freedom away from Chan and the madness that comes with staying in a house full of men from the mafia. You’re barefoot, vulnerable, broken wrist and probable concussion. You’re running as fast as you can and you’re out of breath, looking behind you every few seconds. You feel as if you are being chased. Who are you running from? Why are you so scared?

You come into contact with something and you hit it hard with a thump. You look up and realize it’s a person that you’ve come in contact with.

“Love,” Jungwon says to you. He hoists you to your feet, gripping your arm harshly. “There’s no use running. They are always going to find you.”

You whip your head around, seeing Chan emerge from the darkness. He’s not even out of breath even though he was clearly the one chasing after you. The expression on his face is nothing less than murderous.

“He doesn’t love you,” Chan spits, gesturing to the man holding you tightly in his arms. “He never loved you.” Jungwon’s grip on your arm tightens, and he wraps his arms around you in what he tries to convince you is a loving embrace.

“I loved you so much, but you gave me up for Chan,” he cries. “How could you do this to me? You’re the reason I’m dead. You know that, right? It’s all your fault.” You turn around to look at him, to refute his claims, but as you do you hear the bang. You don’t have to look to see that Chan was the one that shot him, but Jungwon falls dead in your arms.

As you hold his lifeless body, you’re screaming and shaking him, begging him to wake up. You feel an arm on your shoulder, and you know who it is, but you scream and you scream and you–

“Y/N!”

You’re screaming, you realize, though a hand is over your mouth, trying to muffle the noises. You’re thrashing about, trying to release the hold someone has on your shoulder. You recognize your breathing is fast and your heart is beating rapidly out of your chest, and you vaguely recognize that your skin is damp from your own sweat.

As you try to jump up you feel the arms pulling you back down, and before you can scream again you finally recognize the voice trying to soothe you and bring you down from your high. When you turn and see Felix, his eyes wide in concern, you begin to cry. You bring a hand to cover your own mouth as you remember your nightmare, and you do little to keep yourself from hyperventilating. You turn your head and your whole body away from Felix, not wanting him to see you like this. Suddenly hyperaware, you stand up, ready to run into the bathroom and hide yourself from him when he stops you.

Proving himself to be faster than you, you all but run into his chest. “It’s okay,” he says, and his arms wrap around you tight. You bury your head into his shoulder and try to force your body to untense, focusing on the soothing circles he rubs just below your shoulder blade.

“It’s okay,” he repeats.

“No it’s not.”

“I know.”

He guides you back into the bed and you focus on your breathing. He doesn’t ask you to talk about it. He doesn’t have to, and you both know it.

When you both lay back down in bed, he grabs the TV remote and turns on a movie wordlessly. You’re not sure either of you really know what you’re watching. You lean your body into his slightly, and you match your breathing to his, allowing your chests to rise and fall to the same cadence.

He wraps an arm around you and you lean into his chest. You know he’s just doing it in order to calm you down and that it’s a gesture of kindness, nothing more. Somehow, you fall asleep much faster than the first time and it is restful and dreamless.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ; @skz-akira ;

@boi-bi-ahaha ; @l33bang24 ; @hermione640 ; @gal82 ; @b-chansbbygirl ;

@kayleefriedchicken ; @notsojourni ; @hogwartslife64 ; @stilltrynafuckingtumble ; @ellelabelle ;

@melleus ; @hyun-bun ; @luminouskalopsia ; @leftovercigarettes ; @sabrina-gal-kpop

@ghostedgameplays ; @wealwayskeepfighting ; @meloncremesoda ; @Lovelino23 ; @bubblerizz ;

@blossominghunnie ; @sunlitangel777 ; @kkamismom12 ; @slaykanejvetsi ;

[hyunfilms]

love like this (han jisung) | one shot.

—summary: four years down with your boyfriend and still, no one else compares.

—pairing: bf!han jisung x f. reader

—genre: established relationship au | fluff

—word count: 2.0k

—warnings: nothing really; some cussing, lots of affection, kisses, mentions of alcohol and some alcohol consumption, music festival setting!

—on rotation: top tier - sunkis

—a/n: happiest of birthdays to my bestfriend @pearbunny! i know you've been missing jisung & the boys tough since lolla, so i hope this can bring you some comfort. forgive me if there's any mistakes - i literally whipped this up in the last hour lolol i love you!!! 🤍

“Baby, please don’t worry.” Jisung looks at you with his big doe-eyes, hands cupping your cheeks and giving them a soft playful squeeze. “We’re gonna have fun for your birthday, okay? No more stressing.” He runs his finger down your pout teasingly. “No more of this.”

“Fine.” You continue to look up at him with those pretty eyes, your body slowly relaxing in his hold. To be honest, you didn’t really know why you were throwing a fit— you were just worried about Jisung spending loads of money to take you to the music festival you had been wanting to go to as a birthday present. He wanted to do this, though. He wanted to go with you and have fun together, knowing you had been pretty stressed and mentally drained from work. He just wanted to see you smile, he just wanted to hold you and vibe together to music you both enjoyed, he just wanted you happy.

“I love you?” He says in a sing-song voice as he smiles, kissing the tip of your nose before planting one on your forehead. 

“I love you, too.” You playfully roll your eyes and finish packing your last minute things before vacation-proofing the apartment and catching an uber bright and early to the train station. 

The best thing about traveling with Jisung is him, himself. He’s the best partner in crime and always makes things 10x more enjoyable than it already is. The festival was on the outskirts of town, around a 2-hr train ride over. It doesn’t feel like it when you’re with your man, though— time always feels endless in the most perfect way, even after the 4 years you had been dating. 

You’ve never known a love like this.

On the train, you and Jisung share your pair of wired headphones to listen to Rotten Mango’s new true crime podcast episode. Jisung pauses every few minutes to discuss and debrief, barely leaving you guys time to start a new episode. He makes you laugh, especially when he makes those faces as the details of the case progress. You cling onto his arm and giggle onto his shoulder listening to his commentary and thought process and you swear, you could listen to him talk all day. You could listen to his little laughs, you could listen to the way he elaborates his thought process. You can’t help but lace your fingers with his tightly, placing a gentle kiss onto his neck, his jaw, just as the train is pulling up to your stop. Jisung holds onto your hand as he grabs your bags and hauls it out, expertly weaving through the wave of people exiting the train at the same stop. He doesn’t let you lift a finger and makes sure you’re taken care of well throughout every step of the way.

The airbnb Jisung rented is about 10 minutes away from where the festival is set to take place. It’s cute, it’s quaint, it’s perfect for the two of you. It’s a tiny in-law studio beneath a lovely house, the both of you having to walk through the side and through its sliding door to access the unit. The first thing you see when walking in is the bed neatly made in a thick, fluffy sage-colored duvet cover, with about 8 pillows [four big ones, four smaller ones for decoration] pressed against the headboard. Off to the right is the small living room and kitchen area— a couch and a coffee table in front of the 55’ inch flat screen TV. Down the hall would be the bathroom and a coat closet. The first day [or evening] of the festival was starting in a few hours, and Jisung knew you needed time to get ready. He presses repeated kisses to your lips just as you unpack and start getting ready in the bathroom, plopping onto the couch to order some delivery food you two could munch on before heading out.

“Baby!” 

“Yeah?” You respond as you continue to do your makeup in your tanktop and pajama shorts.

“The chicken is coming in like.. 15 minutes!” 

“Yay, okay!” All of a sudden, you hear Jisung’s feet padding over to the bathroom. He has music playing on the bluetooth speakers in the studio, softly of course, not to disturb the tenants upstairs. He leans against the door frame and has a huge smirk on his face, watching as you blend your eyeshadow on one eye.

“So hot.”

“I’m not even done with my makeup yet, babe.” You giggle.

“You don’t even need it, pretty girl.” He throws his hands up in defeat. “But, I know, I know. It completes the fit.” 

“You really do listen to me, don’t you?” You turn to face him with a small pout and he chuckles.

“Of course. I love the colors.” He leans to the side to get a better look at your eyes.

“Wanna pick my blush and lipstick?”

“Hm.” His finger rubs against his chin while he looks through your makeup laid out all over the place on the bathroom counter. He lifts a few options against your face, squinting to see his vision and which would fit best for it. “This.” He places the blush down in front of you. “And this.” He places the glittery translucent lip gloss next to it. “Pretty.”

“Thank you, babe.” You look up at him with the cutest smile, and he can’t help but peck the tip of your nose in a quick fashion.

“Can I do the blush and lip gloss for you?” He looks at you curiously, watching as you finish blending your other eye.

“Sure! I’m doing my lip gloss after we eat, though.”

“Good idea.”

“Here.” You hand him the blush and the proper brush, giving him some tips as he dabs the brush into the palette. He presses it light against your cheek, swiping it in the upwards motion that you keep mentioning. He swirls it around until the blush is blended well enough before moving onto the next cheek— taking a bit to the point of your nose. Then, he suggests [yells, almost] dabbing some glitter on the highest points of your cheeks just as he runs to meet the delivery driver outside. You take his suggestion, giggling as you complete your makeup look and throw on your outfit. Jisung sets the chicken out on the small kitchen counter, picking at a few pieces before he heads into the bathroom to get ready.

After another hour or so of eating, pre-gaming and adding last minute touches, you and Jisung finally head out to the festival. He’s sporting some black cargos with a black and lime green graphic tee, a distressed black denim vest with chains hanging off of its pockets. Your outfit is similar; black cargos that accentuate your curves and a lime green tube top under a black mesh shirt. While in the uber, Jisung holds up his promise of dabbing the lip gloss on your lips before snapping a few candid photos. You try to swat the phone away, causing him to laugh because in the end, he still manages to capture the best photos of you. 

Ones he’ll use as his wallpaper. Your contact photo. His home screen.

Everything about you, cause he’s never known a love like this.

When you arrive, the uber is having to drop you off a ways away from the main entrance gates and security due to the traffic. Jisung hands the driver a hefty cash tip before sliding out and grabbing your hand, leading the way to the gates. There’s a shit ton of people that are still making their way over and it slightly gives you anxiety having to be in such a crowded, chaotic space. You wait in line to enter, Jisung coming to the rescue by lazily wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“We’re almost inside, love.” He says against your head, pressing chaste kisses to help calm you down. You relax in his hold, especially when people are pushing and shoving— doing everything that they can to rush inside. It takes close to 20 minutes before you’re finally passing security and scanning your mobile tickets. Despite the line chaos, you’re incredibly happy you’re here. Reality settles once you and Jisung take a few photos together, your man telling you how to pose for all your solo shots. He laces his hand with yours, kissing the surface as he smiles down at you in pure adoration while you skip around and start bouncing to the beat of the music. You both approach a booth to buy some cocktails to sip on, Jisung buying the both of you strawberry margaritas [on the rocks] before you finally dance over towards the main stage. He lets go of your hand when you start vibing with the margarita in one hand, loudly singing along to the song that’s being performed. Jisung joins along, the both of you in your own little world— as if it ain’t nothin’ but the two of you and no one else. The sun is getting ready to set below the horizon; deep orange in hues, filing the skies with layers of pinks, purples. The stage lights are bright, jumbo screens focusing on the performers and the crowd vibing along. There’s a breeze that feels good against your skin as you continue to dance along; the setting being more than picture perfect.

“Oy!” Chan yells, surprising you from behind. You scream, almost dropping your margarita when you come face to face with your entire group of friends.

“What the fuck! Are you doing! Here!” You turn to look at Jisung, tears welling at your bottom lids. He can’t help but laugh, pulling you flush against him when he tries to wipe the stray tears that manage to escape. “Did you do this?” You pout.

“Baby.” He laughs. “Why are you crying? You know I had to get our friends out here for your birthday.”

“Don’t cry! Did you really think we’d miss out on your birthday weekend?” 

“Yes.” You respond with a small cry. Changbin laughs, him and the rest of your friends pulling you into big hugs and greeting you happy birthday into your ear. It takes a few minutes for you to stop crying because even though you hadn’t expected this to happen, you were beyond happy it did. Jisung knew how much your friends meant to you and how much you wanted to celebrate with them. It took a month of planning, bickering in a secret group chat and numerous phone calls to make sure everyone was on the same page before the festival came around.

You had no idea.

All Jisung wanted for you was to feel loved and celebrated, just as you deserved to be. Every day, every hour, every minute.

At this point, the sun has fully set and the next headliner has made their way to the stage. It gets hyped for the first half, you and your friends loudly singing and bouncing along. Jisung pulls you against him, giving you the opportunity to dance up on him while he keeps up with the rhythm. You and your friends are all vibing along, having fun— all with big smiles and loud, hearty laughs. When the second half of the set comes, it’s at a much slower-pace than the beginning, allowing Jisung to hold you from behind and sway along with you from side to side. 

“I love you.” He says against your temple as you hold onto him, smiling when you feel his lips press a sweet, feathery kiss to the surface. 

“I love you too, Jisung.” You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You tippy-toe to kiss him on the lips, his hands giving your sides a good squeeze. When you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips— deepening the kiss with no concern for anyone, anything, else. Because as far as he’s concerned, you’re the only thing that matters and vice versa.

“I love you so much, pretty. I hope you enjoy your birthday this weekend.”

“Thank you. For everything, Ji.” He smiles before kissing you once more. You turn back around to watch the performer on stage, singing and swaying along in Jisung’s arms.

“I got you, baby. ‘Til the end.”

[fookinhellcurlyyy]

Thanks for all you do :) What was the WDBHG lyric change?

Hi, love! x Thank you ♡

Pretty sure A @lesbian-vodka is making a masterpost for it (and I'll be adding the complete list to my masterdoc as well), but basically, Louis keeps changing the first verse of the song. It was initially seen as something Louis would typically do—meaning, forgetting the lyrics sometimes—but surprise, surprise, it's a deliberate choice lol Plus, A confirmed he was looking at the lyrics at Lolla, same as he did in Electric Brixton. This has been talked about several times before (esp when he started doing it in 2024?) but the recent lives solidified it even more. Note that he did sing it correctly before though (see ones from FITF 2023)!

Original 1st and 2nd Verse:

Counted all my mistakes and there's only one Standin' out from the list of the things I've done All the rest of my crimes don't come close To the look on your face when I let you go [...] Yeah, the taste of your lips on the tip of my tongue Is at the top of the list of the things I want Mind is runnin' in circles of you and me Anyone in-between is the enemy

Indicates a split / break up

Louis' Version of the 1st and 2nd Verse:

Counted all my mistakes and there's only one Standin' out from the list of the things I've done Mind is runnin' in circles of you and me Anyone in-between is the enemy [...] Yeah, the taste of your lips on the tip of my tongue Is at the top of the list of the things I want Mind is runnin' in circles of you and me Anyone in-between is the enemy

Eradicates that idea of letting go

VIDEO REFERENCES:

Adding a bunch for now lol

He has the lyrics taped on stage. My theory is that sometimes it sounds like he's mixing up the lyrics, especially early on when he first started doing it, because the correct ones are printed out. He kinda scans the paper as he sings so he could pull from the 2nd verse.

Not sure if it was accidental (like how BTY I love HIMs started - not sure if accidental or planned) but he definitely chose to stick by it either way lol

[dakotalun]

What Now? | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: PART 2-- Eddie helps you deal with your break up.

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

a/n: please comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

"Uh, I guess you're wondering why I'm walking to your place at 10pm in the pouring rain," I tried to make a joke but it came out soft and broken.

"A little bit but I'm not gonna push you. You can tell me when you’re ready," The softness and sincerity in his voice makes me wanna start crying all over again. God why does he have to be so perfect all the time?

"Jamie um,” I pause, the wound still too fresh to speak of, “Broke up with me."

"What?! Why??" I can picture the expression in his face without even looking, mouth open and brows furrowed. Almost like an angry dad scolding their child, I would laugh at the thought if I wasn’t so damn sad right now.

"They said they had shit to work on and that having a partner would hold them back and they'd feel like they were lying to me if we kept going."

"Bullshit,” I wasn’t expecting this reaction out of him, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

"It's whatever, I just couldn't stay there and I can’t go home because Robin has Vickie over for the weekend, Chrissy is at Jason’s this weekend and apparently Nancy has an impromptu date with Johnathan, I was supposed to stay at Jamie's this weekend, but clearly…”

"You're staying here. No question. Do you need anything? Water? Tea?" He stands up and walks over to his small kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for something for me to drink.

"Honestly I just wanna get out of these clothes," And cry. But I don’t say that because he’s seen me cry enough already.

"You can cry if you need to, you know. I won’t judge, it’s a perfectly understandable situation.” Can this man read my mind or something? I sure as shit hope not. I just nod and look down at my shaking hands, from either the cold, or sadness I can’t quite tell.

��I'll put on some water for tea then start the shower for you," He pulls out his kettle from above his fridge, filling it with water and turning it on. Then he disappears into his room and returns a minute later with a t-shirt, crew neck and a pair of his boxers.

"I wasn't sure if you had stuff to wear so here are some options, towels are in the bathroom. I'll be out here if you need anything."

I grab the pile of clothes from him, "Thank you."

"It's nothing. Anything for you," His smile is infectious and a small one spreads to my face as well.

His words mean so much more to me than he can ever imagine. I get up off the couch and head to the bathroom to shower off the mixture of rain water and tears. As the water hits me, my brain keeps thinking of all the things Jamie and I did together; buying Gregory, going to Lolla, spending weekends watching Criminal Minds and eating ice cream. Before I know it I'm crying and I can't stop the tears. I don’t know how much time has passed since I got in but I snap out of my crying fit when I hear a soft knock on the bathroom door.

I wipe my tears, as if it makes a difference with water pouring down on me, and clear my throat before speaking, “Uh yeah?”

“Sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if you’d eaten yet?” His voice is slightly muffled from the door and the sound of the water doesn’t help either.

“I uh,” I pause before answering, I know that I haven’t eaten since Jamie and I were gonna cook something at their place but I also know that Eddie will want to pay for the food and him allowing me to stay here is already too much, “Yeah, I ate before I went over to Jamie’s”

“Hmm,” I hope he can’t tell I’m lying, “Okay.”

I let out a breath and go back to cleaning myself off, I need to get rid of their smell.

After my shower I put on his boxers and the crewneck he offered me. A genuine smile crosses my face when I notice it’s the same one he let me borrow in early August when we went to his lake house. But the happiness of the memory gets overshadowed by the thought of the fact that not only 4 hours before that I was in Chicago with Jamie, leaving Lollapalooza.

I shake my head and get rid of those thoughts before heading out to the living room with my dirty clothes in my hand. I see Eddie standing by his balcony door, hands in his pockets just staring out into the night sky. I watch him for a second and think about how someone like him can be so friendly and happy around me. It’s confused me since the day we met.

It was the first day of freshman orientation and we were all in a small classroom waiting for our group mentor to show up and tell us about what we’d be doing this week. I chose to sit in the middle of the room but in a seat next to the wall so I could rest my back against it and watch the entire room.

As I sat there scanning the room my eyes landed on a handful of interesting people, some that I’ve recognized from orientation day, others who just had interesting clothes or hair, and then there was Eddie. There was just something about him, his long curly hair, his dark clothes, the chains hanging around his neck and off his plants, and those rings.

I couldn’t help but stare, from what I could see he was clearly attractive and dressed very differently from what I’ve noticed most men wear. As I admired him from afar, our mentor came rushing in apologizing for being late. They had to make sure they had the right group since some people had to switch at the last minute.

We all turned our attention to the two mentors standing in the front as they talked about what the next few days were going to look like for us. I tried my best to retain the information but then they had us do a “get to know you” game and my heart dropped. I’ve always hated talking about myself and what I enjoy and it seemed kind of redundant to say I like art seeing as though this is an art school. But the curiosity to find out more about the mysterious man across the room was too strong.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn @meanlilbean @sonnyahngel @corrodedcass @pigwidgeonxo @marsmunson86 @lottie-90 @figmentofquinn @sareim123122 @eddies-puppet @gvf23 @kennedy-brooke @rocklees-wife @emma77645 @cherris-n-peaches @breehumbles @joequinn-love @anyoddthoughts @aysheashea @eddiesskittle @uncxmfxrtablex @cherrymedicine13 @mrsjellymunson @shotgunhallelujah @bambipowerblueaddition @hexqueensupreme @josephquinnsfreckles @harrysgothicbitch @paleidiot @smurfflynn @lilyungpeanut @selena-rocker27

[louisupdates]

Louis Tomlinson India 2025 promo:

- LOUIS’ Instagram reel, IG story

- ARRIVAL: Zoom TV entrance in shorts, SHOWSHA, the “small one,” photos, video, legs

- RADIO ONE INTERNATIONAL/ 94.3:

Meet & Greet: [video] [video] [aarti] [aarti] [welcome] [welcome] [welcome] [video] [video] [video] [massive thank you] [video] [video] [video] [autograph] [TWITTER]

Link to YouTube full interview

Not singing “Bigger Than Me”

Videos with transcriptions:

How does it feel to finally play in India? [x] [x]

How surreal is the full circle moment of sharing a billing with Green Day? [x] [x]

Pre-show ritual/ favorite song to perform/ Indian food in India [x]

Preference for small towns vs cities/ passion of fans taking off Louis’ shirt [x]

Showcasing young artists at AFHF/ picking outfits for tour [x]

The Greatest/ Silver Tongues/ Arctic Monkeys/ reading fan signs at concerts and forgetting lyrics [x]

Fun things LT team post-show / FITF being more “Louis” than Walls [x]

Lolla Chicago/ not singing Bigger Than Me/ message for Louies [x]

- INDIA TODAY interview, on television [x], Instagram, reel, saying “pyaar” “almost fluent in Hindi”

Twitter video

Interview video part 1

Interview video part 2

Videos with transcriptions:

Why it took so long to come to India [x]

On trying something besides butter chicken (like chaat and pani puri) and what to expect at Lolla India [x]

What’s the ‘Louis’ style of entrance/ Louis’ spice tolerance level/ where would you like to go with your “big little unit” of fans [x]

Preshow ritual/ favourite song to perform/ favourite fan moment at the shows/ surprising cover song?/ Louis speaks Hindi, “pyaar” [x]

What’s the one thing that past Louis cannot believe about the present Louis [x]

- ROLLING STONE INDIA interview

- ROLLING STONE INDIA HQ photos, Instagram, colorized

- Green Day full circle, he’s rock royalty, watching Green Day [video] [video] [photo, HQ photo, photo, angel filter], giggling with Oli, Oli and Louis gossip girls

- HQ LOLLA INDIA press photos: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x], Matt Vines, Krystle, Oli, Helen, dumptruck, LT TEAM

- BOMBAY TIMES interview, front cover

- DECCAN HERALD article

- SHOWMO [video]

- HINDUSTAN TIMES article

- MID-DAY article

- TELEGRAPH INDIA article

[pajarinwrites]

LOLLAPALOOZA | Boo Seungkwan x Reader

➳ gn!reader x seungkwan

➳ wc: 2.4k

➳ TAGS: angst? no au!au?? seungkwan gets lost in berlin and reader helps him hahaha

➳ WARNINGS: sadness? unrequited attration/infatuation? german language, german people (jk love y'all), kinda insta-lovey

➳ AN: obviously i had to write something about lolla bc the boys ate that. i love them so much. this is my gift for every carat that didn't get to go (i'll probably continue this bc i did not enjoy that mildly sad ending) also it was my anniversary this week, so you get two stories within the same week (unheard of from me fr)

side note: no shade to the German people. Also, if I butchered Berlinese, please ignore it, thx. also also i don't know where the olympia stadium player entrance is and i was too lazy to look it up. different side note: if you were one of the carats that went to LOLLA in cheers outfits (you know the ones: purple, blue, orange, hats with jewels) and you happened to be stumbling across this, just know i am actually in fact in love with you and you are contractually obliged to marry me, you guys all slayed <3

masterlist

He stared down at his phone, helplessly. But the stupid thing remained stubbornly black. The sun was beating down onto his neck, bared, unlike his face that was protected by his cap, and he rubbed at it in frustration. It must have been getting close to noon, way past the time he had promised to be back. It also meant the sun was nearly above him. Without any shadow to seek refuge in, Seungkwan continued down the street. He had been avoiding getting a new phone for ages, and now it had finally caught up with him.

“Ah fuck,” he cursed under his breath, shoving the hot, useless brick back into his pocket. The pavement was flickering with heat as he looked down the street. He’d have to ask someone for help. Now, if only someone would brave the sun and temperature outside. What kind of city was this empty at noon, anyway? Granted, he wasn’t exactly in the middle of the city, but still.

He made it to the corner before finally spotting the long-awaited sign of actual life. There was a store across the street, a bright red sign reading ‘kiosk’.

He strutted in, surreptitiously wiping his hands on his shirt and trying not get too stressed out by the fact he’d have to communicate his troubles in English now.

“Hi, hello…” he started, waving softly at the clerk behind the counter. He was a middle-aged man, tan and bearded, gruff-looking, like so many of the people Seungkwan had encountered here.

“Uhm, I am… need help. I need help.” he stammered, searching the man’s face for any sort of emotion. The only reply was a grunt. He tried again, “I am… lost way. I am looking… uhm… looking for Olympia Stad—?”

The man started waving his hands in front of his face.

“Keen Englisch!”

Seungkwan tried again, just slower this time but that seemed to agitate the man even more.

“Ick sech ick kann keen Englisch. Icke versteh’ n��scht!“

He seemed angry, so Seungkwan bowed and hurried out of the store. Who knew Germans could be this scary. This also left him at square one. Or, possibly, worse. He had no idea where he had gotten turned around and there wasn’t another store in sight. With no one around the hour approaching early afternoon, he was busy trying to keep the panic at bay.

A sudden voice startled him out of his spiralling thoughts.

“Alles in Ordnung? Kann ich dir helfen?”

He spun around, and met with wide eyes, fluffy hair, and a worried expression. A person, probably about his age, was standing in front of him. Kind, was his first thought, the way you were clutching a hand-painted tote bag to your side, and looking honestly concerned for him, gave him hope.

“Ah, yes, hello!” No matter his anxiety about English, Seungkwan wasn’t going to let this golden opportunity pass.

“You speak English?”

You inclined your head, “Yeah, a little. Are you lost?”

He nodded fervently but before he could attempt to explain any further, the person in front of him suddenly slipped into Korean.

“혹시 한국인 이세요?“ Are you Korean?

“Oh!” He exclaimed surprised and so relieved that he felt close to tears.

“Yes, yes! How did you know?” He replied.

You laughed and Seungkwan, oddly, felt all his former worry drain away, “Just a lucky guess. Your style and hair, maybe.”

Seungkwan clasped his hands, starting into a relieved tirade, “Wow, I’m so glad that I happened to run into you on the street like this, you have no—“

“Uhm,” you interrupted him, raising a hand, “…slowly, please?”

Seungkwan took a few seconds to realise that his excited outburst had probably been too much, linguistically.

“Oh! Yes, of course. Just… I’m happy I met you. I need to go to the Olympia Stadium but I don’t know where it is.”

This time, your brows remained unfurrowed as you focused on Seungkwan’s speech, which he tried to keep as slow and clear as possible.

“It’s that way. Do you want to go together?”

He nodded with relief, falling into step beside you.

“Are you also on your way to the festival?” He inquired, but was met with the shake of the head.

“No, I just don’t know how to describe the way in Korean.”

Seungkwan laughed at your sheepish expression. “How do you know Korean?”

“An ex of mine was Korean.”

“Wow! You learned just for them?”

You nodded, laughing. “Yeah, I visited their family in Korea and I wanted to be able to communicate. Then I just kept studying on my own after we broke up.”

Seungkwan nodded, studying your side profile, somewhat severe, he thought.

“So how did you get lost?”

“I was taking a walk.”

“You don’t seem to have… your direction isn’t very good.”

“My sense of direction?”

“Yes!” You turned, mumbling the phrase under your breath repeatedly, and Seungkwan had trouble holding back a giggle. Apparently, that severe look disappeared entirely when you were excited about something. He giggled at your concentrated expression.

“Do you wanna write it down?”

“I’ll write it down later. So, are you going to the… concert?”

Seungkwan blinked, averting his face. He had forgotten, for a second, the fact that he was, technically speaking, world famous.

“Uhm, yeah… I’m going to the festival.” He said, hoping you would leave it at that but of course, no such luck.

“You came all the way here for Lollapalooza? Or do you live in Berlin?”

“We flew here.”

“Wow! Who do you want to see that much?”

“Sam Smith,” he said, both because he did want to see them and because it seemed like a safe lie.

“They don’t tour in Korea?”

“Uhm, we wanted to visit Europe anyway.”

“Ah! I see! Not only Berlin, then? Where else will you travel?”

If you realised his increasing discomfort, you didn’t let it show. Seungkwan didn’t enjoy lying, and the longer the conversation kept going, the surer he was that you must’ve figured something out. Or worse, recognised him right at the start.

“Are you going to the festival?” He asked in lieu of a reply. You looked taken aback for a second but seemed to shake the awkwardness off quickly.

“Nope, I’m not really a… festival person…”

“Ah…” he trailed off, unsure whether or not to pursue the subject. Eventually he settled on, “you don’t like that kind of music?”

“Pop? I don’t mind it.”

“Ah, and… K-Pop? You like it?” Seungkwan knew he should not breach the topic; he should ignore the possibility of you knowing of him. He should just pray that you would say ‘no, not really’ in reply. Technically, he was aware, that everything would be a lot easier and more genuine if you no knowledge of the genre. But he couldn’t help the small voice that was hoping for you to say you adored his music, his voice, his stage presence. He wasn’t sure why, all of a sudden, he craved it like this. Hence, his emotions remained equally confused when you replied, “I prefer older songs, from back when I first got into K-Pop. Like SHINee, 2PM, VIXX, Girl’s Generation, SES, you know? Do you like the group playing today?”

He didn’t dare look up. Your tone had been genuine. You didn’t seem to even know their name. He shrugged his shoulders in reply and tried not to let the speck of disappointment in his chest spread too far. Seungkwan didn’t even notice his lack of reply until he glanced over, seeing your wide eyes staring at him.

“Ah, err, yeah I like them,” he finally decided. Why lie about that?

“Anyone else you want to see? I guess a festival like this... I guess you want to…”

He looked over, letting you sort your thoughts patiently until you gave up with an embarrassed chuckle.

“It’s only worth it if you want to see several artists.” You finally said, switching into English. It took a few seconds for him to untangle the sentence but eventually he nodded, smiling. Unfortunately, his brain used that exact moment to blank on the rest of the people playing at Lollapalooza, and he ended up having to say, “Yeah, I really like Seventeen.”

“Seventeen, huh?” You whipped out your phone and typed away on it. He didn’t have time to worry what would happen if you started looking for photos online, before your phone started blaring Maestro.

“This is the first song on their Spotify page. Which one is your favourite?” You held out your phone as the both of you came to stop at a traffic light. He took it, gingerly, his fingertips grazing yours for a few seconds.

The first song that popped to the front of his brain was Ready to love, so he pressed play. The traffic light turned green and you took your phone back. As you listened intently, Seungkwan looked around, realising that the area started to look more familiar again. The streets also seemed less empty, which was at the same time reassuring and anxiety inducing.

He tugged at your bag to get your attention, “Do you know where the, uhm...” This was it. He should have just been honest from the beginning. There was no way he could get through the masses at the entrance unnoticed. He probably wouldn’t even make it five minutes. And there was no good lie for needing to find the back entrance. Other than…

“I’m part of the staff, so I have to get to the back entrance.”

You cocked your eyebrow before recognition crossed your face.

“Ah, you mean the player entrance? The one the… people who do sport usually use?”

“Yeah!”

You grinned in a way that he couldn’t quite read, “Sure, I’ll have to look that up, though.”

You pulled him over, away from what he had realised was a metro station or something to that effect. A steady drip of people had been exciting the station and turning towards the same direction, so Seungkwan abducted that you had very much picked up on the fact that he didn’t want to be spotted by the masses. The two of you leaned against the wall of a building opposite the street as you pulled up a browser on your phone and looked for the map of the Olympia Stadium. Seungkwan watched the people pass, a lot of them were clearly discernible as Carats, either by their outfits or accessories. He saw a few people with Cheers-inspired outfits, carat bongs, and a frankly abnormal amount of people in tiger print.

“Got it!” You announce after a second, showing the graphic to Seungkwan. “We can take the roundabout way, if you prefer. Just follow this street, then turn right, and enter through the western entrance. Should I take you?”

That was no question for Seungkwan, “Yes, please.”

To his relief, you didn’t hesitate, only nodding happily and taking off in the right direction. He fell back into step beside you, watching you from the corner of his eyes.

“I really liked that song,” you eventually stated. It took him a few seconds to realise that you were talking about his song.

“Yeah? Then you should listen to Rock with you and Hot. Maestro is the latest song, it’s also really good. Then there’s God of Music and…” he trailed off at the sight of your amused expression.

“I’ve got a lot of listening to do, it seems.”

He nodded, avoiding your gaze. Seungkwan was at a loss for words, feeling the end of your companionship draw closer with every step. As short as the time had been, he had enjoyed talking to you and hearing your laugh. Ridiculous, he thought, as he had to concede the feeling in his chest.

The two of you made it to the staff entrance, where security awaited. His hand shot out, stopping you a few metres away from them. Their eyes turned towards you, but they remained at their posts.

“Thank you so much,” Seungkwan reiterated, holding onto your arm feverishly. There was this wild thought bouncing through his head that, if he let go now, you’d vanish from his life and never return.

“It’s no problem, really. I had nowhere else to be. I’m happy I could help.”

You voice was earnest and your eyes creased at the corners with happiness. Seungkwan wanted, so badly, to ask for your contact. But there was the issue of communication, and the – much larger – problem of his fame. He had been ‘advised’ not to share any personal contact information with anyone, and he couldn’t very well give you his public Instagram. Not least because that would mean this little pocket of normality would come to an indisputable and abrupt end. You seemed to read his inner conflict on his face because your expression softened. Carefully, you extricated your arm from his grip.

“It was nice meeting you…”

“Seungkwan.”

“Seungkwan,” you repeated, and the care you took in pronouncing it, the way your lips fit themselves around the shape of his name, made his heart seize. “I’m [name]. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

You were smiling so softly, almost hopeful, and Seungkwan didn’t have the guts to say no. “That’d be nice,” he replied instead.

“In German we have this saying: you always meet twice in life.”

Seungkwan nodded, somewhere between regretful and smitten. He steeled himself for the final goodbye when you held out your phone.

“Could you write down those songs for me? The ones you said earlier?”

Lucky, he thought, heaving a relieved sigh. He wouldn’t have had the courage to reject any possible advances of yours. Although, maybe that meant you weren’t interested at all? Maybe you didn’t find him as cute, and interesting, and kind as he did you. Or maybe you were more realistic in withholding judgment of a person you had known a grand total of fifteen minutes. He took your phone, writing a small list in your notes app before locking it and handing it back to you. You took it without looking at it, your eyes never leaving his. It seemed almost like you were searching for something in them. When you finally looked away, Seungkwan had no way of knowing whether you had found it.

“Tell the artists I wish them good luck for their show,” you said. There was a glint in your eyes that told him there was more weight to your words. For a second, he was sure you knew, maybe had known all along. But in the end, there was nothing he could do but watch you walk away, waving and smiling as he made his way backstage.

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

It makes me sad that Jimin isn’t appreciated by other fandoms. The reason is that he doesn’t interact much with other idols and prefers to keep a low profile—so, it’s hard for people outside our fandom to really get to know his personality.

Take Jungkook, for example. He’s loved by Blinks, Aespa stans, NewJeans stans, LE SSERAFIM fans, and even fans of male groups. But Jimin often gets disliked simply because people don’t know him. Maybe he just seems too "distant"?

I'm sorry to say, but it's a pretty dumb thing to be sad about.

"The reason is that he doesn't interact with other idols" is it? Is it really the reason? Jennie and Taehyung were sleeping together, and armys still don't like Jennie and keep hating on her everyday. Even though having sex with someone is a pretty strong type of interaction, I'd say. So I don't think idols have to be friends with each other so fans won't fight.

Jimin has idol friends. Him not using them as pawns or not drawing attention to them is just who Jimin is. He's been to publicly support his closest friends in their shows more than once. He travelled to support Hoseok at lolla. Jimin is literally the easiest person to understand and he doesn't seem like he goes the extra mile for acquaintances (public appearances are extra mile when you consider him). He shows up for the people who matter the most to him, and I think there's been enough times he's talked about people around him and it's not difficult to notice that he chooses those people extremely carefully and doesn't open up easily.