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love4hobi · 21 days

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pretty boy

#bts #hoseok #jhope #hobi #btsgif #btsedit #dailybts #userines #usersky #annietrack #*#anyway..#tucks hair behind ear like a princess #thats one of my favorite habits of his <333

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aaagustd · 22 days

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🤍

⌞bangtan in chains

[cr. namuspromised]

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thatgoddamngingerundercut · 1 month

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‘Butter’ Jacket Shoot Sketch Day Two - j-hope

#bts #jung hoseok #j-hope #bts j-hope #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts gifs #btsedit #my gifs #i LOVE hobi's hair in this shoot #and really just an excellent choice giving them all plump pink lips #kissable #an his lil clip on earrings <3 #he's so cute #sunshine personified

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devotedtosuga · 9 months

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#black hair #kpop #bts #bts army #jeon jungkook #jungkook #kim taehyung #taehyung #park jimin #kim namjoon #rm #jung hoseok #jhope #kim seokjin #jin #min yoongi #suga #jimin

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bts-trans · 1 year

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230304 Jin’s Instagram Post with J-Hope’s Comment

J: 어서와

JH: ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ😍❤️😍❤️

J: Welcome

JH: Hahahahahahahahahahaha 😍❤️😍❤️

Trans cr; Faith @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

#230304 #jin #seokjin #jimin #j-hope #hobi #hoseok #instagram #insta #post #comment #bts #bangtan #saw a tiktok that called jins hair hedgehog hair and now it's all i can see #so cute

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raplinenthusiasts · 1 year

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you wanna be my life?

wanna be?

for @yeon-ki-min

#jung hoseok #jhope gifs #bts #btsgif #dailybts #dailybangtan #userbangtan #cyphernet #trackofthesoul #annietrack #heyryen #shirleytothesea #userhobeah #*mine #jhs #cr. namuspromised #listen LISTEN i put sth else option in my poll literally for that hoseok you mentioned in tags! IT WAS FOR HIM #unfortunately i hate giffing stage performances bc of lightning and overall camera work :( so i have this red haired hoseok for you <3 #hope you like it anyway!

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spiralizera · 6 months

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buzzcut season

Summary: Namjoon x reader. Self-explanatory

warnings/notes: established relationship, depression, hurt/comfort, mild suggestion, a shower, this was so self-indulgent, and by self-indulgent I mean I wrote it at 4am when I had to be up at 6am

———————————————————————

‘Ready?’

You hold Namjoon’s eyes in the mirror as you stand behind him. He sits in front of you, shirt off with a towel wrapped around his shoulders. He looks at you with firm determination.

‘You still sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind. No one has to know.’

A flicker in his eye. You would know, you knew everything. It terrified him sometimes how much of him, all of him, you held in his hands. But you kept your face open, loving and non-judgemental. No one would know because as far as you were concerned you were no one, this was nothing. As in, this room, you and him, did not exist outside this moment. Two separate planes of existence where the outside world could not begin to fathom, let alone touch the tiny world you’d crafted between each others touch and gaze. No one would know if he failed. Again.

——————————————————————

Joon had come to you that morning. You’d been waiting for days. He’d not been in a good place for months. The growing number of hours at the studio, the obsessive workouts, the half written lyrics left absently around the house, the holding onto you at night like a life raft. He wouldn’t talk. You didn’t push. You made sure he ate, got some sleep; held him and told him simple things about your day. You were there in the hopes that he would soon join you.

Then, he came to your desk and knelt by your side, placed his head in the crook of your hip joint. You ran your fingers through his glossy hair before pressing your lips to his head. Some days he did this and you let him sit there for what felt like hours as you wrote your notes. It was a peaceful equilibrium only interrupted by the afternoon sun sifting through the curtains. Today there was a charge. If you didn’t hold on, it felt like he might take off, or fall apart. There was an energy. It was good. It had to be.

‘I need you to do something for me.’

You hummed, keeping a steady rhythm.

‘I need you to shave my head.’

He raised his head, eyes a little woozy from the blood rushing to his cheeks. Your hands followed them, cupping the skin as you searched his gaze.

Not a question. A need.

‘Ok.’

‘I need you to cut it all off.’

‘Ok,’ you repeat, as softly as you thumb his cheeks.

His gaze is hard and his eyes are bright. You slip to the floor, not moving your hands from his face and landing between his thighs. He pulls at your waist, gets you as close as he can.

‘Ok Joon. We can do that.’

———————-————————————

You do eventually talk about it. As you make the coffee you listen as he takes you through all his thinking. There’s so much of it and you can’t help but smile. Of course he would overanalyse this small act of rebellion into oblivion.

You touch his hip as you hand him a cup. ‘It’ll feel good.’ Simple language felt right, grounding. You weren’t going to question him, he did enough of that on his own.

‘I did it a couple of years ago. It felt good to let go like that.’

His eyes slightly widened. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ you traced the rim of your own cup. It was strange to find pockets of yourself that he didn’t know. You forgot sometimes, forgot that he hadn’t burrowed into and fused with every cell of your body and all its rotten, gorgeous histories. It sure felt that way. You were quick to remedy the fact.

You’d been going through a rough time. But that didn’t necessarily feel relevant to the shaving. It’d been difficult to tell when the rough time had started, long before the head shaving. But it was easy in retrospect to string together the expected narrative. You’d actually been feeling good that summer. It’d felt empowering. You’d been giddy. Friends watched in a neat line on the sofa as you committed the fateful act. It became a ritual then, an occasion. Ask a different friend each time to shave and then eventually bleach your head. A gesture of trust. An excuse to have dinner and catch up in a city that was hostile to such acts of tenderness. But it’d also been a form of armour, a repellent. One you only began to recognise when you let it grow out again. When you’d let it grow soft and it’d start to graze your shoulders, only then did you realise how hard you had been. You didn’t want to be a cliche. But again, it’s easy to fall into such things in retrospect.

Namjoon listened as he buried his face into your hair. It was thinner than his, but curly at the ends and you had a lot of it. He liked how he could grab a fistful and feel it disappear into the nothing at the end. Like silk or water.

‘Do you think I’m crazy?’ He asked into your neck.

You shook your head and he got a wave of heady perfume.

‘No. I think you’re sad.’

You’d never said it so simply before. It cut to the quick of what he’d been circling for months. His hands slightly tightened around your hips and you could feel the way his chest hitched. You turned around, tracking his fingertips on your waist as you grasped his cheeks.

‘And that’s ok. Change is good. We don’t know what it will bring but the act of choosing something, choosing for yourself, for better or worse, is one of the best things you can do.’

He closes his eyes, the tears caught in his throat, and you kiss his eyelids like a shrine.

‘I love you.’ You pull his head towards you slightly and press your forehead to his. ‘I love you and I promise everything will be ok.’

He nods slightly, his forehead bumping against yours and you can’t help but laugh at the small ‘ow’ that escapes his lips.

——————————————————————

You started at the neck where his hair was already short, giving him that final window to back out if he needed.

He stared hard into the mirror like man heading to war. You couldn’t help but break the tension and eventually went straight through the middle of his head. Black swatches fell to the floor and a noise escaped your mouth as you both stared at the consequences. A trench ran straight through the middle of his thick hair. For one long second, both of your faces were a gobsmacked mirror, frozen in disbelief, before Joon cracked with a laugh. He grabbed the clippers off you and repeated the action. His smile growing bigger and you couldn’t help but giggling as you watched him attack his head.

He’d been fastidious about his appearance for years, everyone had. Now it was all gone.

You went in afterwards and evened it out, neatened the edges, touching the soft velvet of a fresh buzzcut with growing compulsion.

Joon had closed his eyes, his brow as soft as his smile as he cherished every touch you stole against his new scalp.

When you finished, you kissed the top of his head. And then his temples and the nape of his neck until he swatted you away and opened his eyes.

He looked and felt lighter. He felt like he was seeing himself for the first time in months. You caught his eye and couldn’t help but catch the grin that was threatening to split his face in half.

Before you could stop him, he’d grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. You squealed and complained about all the hair in your mouth and across the bathroom. He ignored you and whispered thank you into your neck like a mantra. You eventually settled and pulled away to get a proper look. You placed your hands on his chest and felt that heartbeat for what felt like the first time in months.

You kept looking at each other. Not saying anything but occasionally ducking heads into smiles like crushing teenagers.

Despite the vehement protests, Joon picked you up then. Hooking your thighs around his waist and crushing his lips to yours. Holding you and refusing to let go, he grappled his way to the shower. Steam quickly fogging the glass. He pressed you against the cold tiles, your clothes soaking thin, and touched you in ways that he hadn’t in months.

‘Thank you’ he kept repeating, peppering your skin with it, breathy and high with adrenaline. You laughed and ran your fingers against the grain of his scalp, felt his hands tighten on your thighs.

‘Show me how thankful you are.’