☆̲̲: 𝑏𝑡𝑠 (𝑅𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑚 ) 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑠

the secondhand embarrassment is too real (transl. BTStranslation_)

Oi star, pode fazer lockscreens do taehyung? (BTS)

Taehyung ㅤㅤ[ 케이팝 ] ♡ bts lockscreens

jk details

bts ♡ random gifs (© namuspromised)

we need to talk more about autism and this is just 🥺🥺🥺💖💖 a great start

Safe Space💚

Warning: mentions of sensory overload, hypersensitivity to sound and light, stimming (happy hand flapping), brief mutism/going non-verbal, some praise, reader almost has a meltdown from sensory overload

Note: I used information that was given to me from an autistic person but I apologize if this isn't exact.😅

Pairing: CEO!Hoseok X (f.)autistic!reader

You grabbed your keys off the table, not liking the noise it made one bite, just another reason to slide on your new noise canceling headphones.

There's a special hoodie you always wear when you visit Hoseok. It smells like his laundry detergent so you like it for two reasons: it smells like Hoseok and it smells clean. It's baggy and worn, the once bright red now so faded and sunbleached that it's a shade of light pink.

You walk your way to Hoseok's work building, you wanted to surprise him even though you probably could've called for his driver.

Florescent lights unwelcomingly invade your vision for a few seconds before sunlight mostly takes over, handing the guard at the door a special access badge Hoseok had given you.

"Cleared."

"Thanks." You continued on your journey.

Up a couple flights of stairs to avoid awkward situations in the elevator, you headphones cover your ears, playing soft music that would fit perfectly for the ambient light in Hoseok's office.

You knock once, twice, three times on Hoseok's office door, seeing him open the door, a look of surprise, confusion and happiness painting his features.

"Babydoll, come on in." Hoseok opens the door wider for you to walk in, even if you can't hear him, you know what he said, you can read lips really well.

Hoseok had a little broon closet in his office that was stashed full of comfort items. Fluffy pillows, weighted blankets, even a little weighted Mang plushie he had gotten you as a birthday gift.

You walked over to the broom closet, pulling out a ten pound weighted blanket and a large fluffy body pillow, taking them over to a soft couch in the corner hear Hoseok's desk, happily snuggling up into the soft materials.

Hoseok comes over to crouch down in front of you. "Did you walk here? I'm not mad, I just want to know."

You slid your headphones off, laying with headphones on while the side of your face is pressed into a pillow is pretty uncomfortable.

"Yes." You stared a Hoseok's dress shoes, feeling a little guilty and ashamed.

"Okay, it's okay this time. But I would feel better if you asked for the driver instead, alright? I don't want you to have a meltdown or sensory overload in a random place and no one know where you are. I'm not mad, okay?" Hoseok looks at you, nothing but love and concern in his eyes, but you're not staring at his eyes, you're staring at his shoes.

"Okay." It comes out soft which gives away what's going to happen next.

"Can I get a kiss before you rest? I missed my babydoll." Hoseok puts on his best pout, making sure to watch for your signs that it's okay to initiate physical contact.

You let out something akin to a soft, happy squeal, hands flapping up and down in front of you. It makes you so excited that he still searches for permission to touch you, not wanting to accidentally upset you.

He leans in close and you close your eyes, he has soft lips, they're this wonderful texture of almost silk but as skin, you love it.

The feeling of his hand moving a piece of hair to uncover your face, figuring it was bothering you, has you doing hand flaps again.

"Love you, Babydoll." Hoseok grins as he pulls away, watching you sink back into the pillow.

"Love you, Hobi." You stare at him from your spot for a few seconds before deciding to ask your question. "Mang?"

"Yeah, I'll go get you Mang." He gives you a soft smile, getting up to walk over to the closet to grab the weighted Mang plushie.

There's a reason Hoseok has soft footsteps, won't slam doors, or yell unless necessary, like in business meetings.

For you, just existing in the same space as Hoseok is enough but sometimes you crave that feeling of being touched too.

Hoseok walks back over to tuck Mang into your arms, watching the tiny smile cross over your lips when you feel the material and the weight in your arm.

"Have a nice rest, Babydoll. I'm going to start working on my paperwork again. Remember what to do if you want anything or need my attention?"

You nod your head, sticking your hand in the air and making your fingers do the wave.

"Good girl." He got up and went back to his desk, seeing your eyes struggling to stay open.

You never really slept when you were here. It was more of a resting your eyes in comfort situation.

The soft noise of a pen gliding across paper, keys on the keyboard being tapped as gently as possible while still maintaining pace, Hoseok's even breathing filling the space.

After what felt like around an hour, you stuck your hand in the air, watching Hoseok turn immediately from his work to walk over to you, crouching down in front of you again.

"Hi, Babydoll." He grins at you, almost at eye level. "What do you need?"

Your hand snakes it way from its spot to reach for Hoseok's face, stopping just in front like asking for permission.

Hoseok presses his face into your hand, feeling the soft pads of your fingers caress over his closed eyelids, nose, and lips.

Hoseok's office door slammed open, making you visibly jump, easily becoming upset by the loud noise and a high volume, frantic voice that comes out shrill.

He grabs your hands, already noticing that the incident is overwhelming you, pressing his thumbs into your palms, turning his head and telling whoever it was in a deep voice to get out.

He presses his forehead to yours, seeing your teary eyes and face turning red, your eyes squeeze shut at his close distance.

On the other side of the door, an employee is getting scolded by Hoseok's secretary.

"Never do something like that! We never know when she'll be here and she is autistic! You have to be quiet! Give me your access badge! Two days suspension! Go home!"

Back in Hoseok's office, you're trying to keep your breathing even, the feeling of Hoseok's hands and forehead behaving like a grounding mechanism.

He won't usually talk when these things happen, deeming himself too close to talk anywhere near normal volume, so he settles for his best whisper.

"It's okay. It's gonna be okay. Hobi's here. Come here." Hoseok placed your hands to let them wind into his hair, making shushing noises and trying his best to rock you back and forth.

When Hoseok managed to calm you down, you didn't want to let go but that wasn't a problem, Hoseok just sat down on the couch with you, pulling you into his lap and bringing the blanket up over your shoulders, grabbing your headphones to put on you, finding your phone and going to a special playlist you had made for when you were upset.

You face was pressed into his neck, the feeling of your now calmed breathing fanning across Hoseok's neck.

He'll have to fire that one employee later. That was a huge no-no. Even if you aren't here, they're still supposed to behave as if you are because they never know when you are.

-------------------------------------------------------

I tried my best on this one but it was a challenge to write since I am not autistic and don't know exactly what it's like.😅🥰

My asks and submissions are always open!😘

I hope you enjoyed and I love you, my fluffies!🥰

Will I always be alone in this house? Reading books that are too hard for me in the long fatherless hours?

let your dad die energy drink - daniel lavery and cecilia corrigan/bob’s burgers, 2011/family line - conan gray/@parentless-suggestions/promises of gold - jose olivarez/unknown/dna - lia marie johnson/unknown/part of me never left that house - mada hayyas/unknown/father - demi lovato/franz kafta/unknown/primer - aaron smith/family line - conan gray/untitled - frank wright

***sorry for all of the unknowns on this one. I really do try to find the sources for everything but I kept coming up empty w these. If you know the sources pls comment/send me an ask or dm and lmk!!

LOVE ME AGAIN V (OF BTS), 2023

Harana Preview | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, fluff, angst → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, so much yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: anticipated 10-15K → a/n: what da hell who is she... HEY SO its been a while since ive written anything longer than 2k words and i really wanted to get back into writing, if only for practice... plus this is part of my heart full of hugot series that i teased literally eons ago and i want to finish it before the year ends... pray for my sanity ( ; ω ; )

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture. 

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt. 

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat. 

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk. 

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you continue, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence. 

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and purse your lips uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away. 

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door. 

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice. 

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off. 

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note. 

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you. 

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole. 

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero. 

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation. 

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

"Art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you."

– Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story