janie⁷

gay cat pin on my bag to remind me of him (yoongi)

(so far ive skipped two scenes to get here)

baby’s first 6000 words

thank you i’ll try to be more active here 🥺🫶🏾

i’m slowly writing the chapter in time for january 🥹

x.com/edensope/sta...

He breathes in, grateful for the promise of warmth and the chance to get clean, but registers a sharp stab of panic the moment Hoseok's hand leaves his own when he steps past the threshold. "Well then, I'll leave you to—" Hoseok pauses, watching Yoongi's expression crumble into wild despair, catching the tang of bitterness in his scent. Brows furrowing, the alpha presses his lips together, looking pained himself. Slowly, he asks, "What's wrong?" Yoongi's throat bobs. He shakes his head once. Pleads, thickly, "D-don't go, I-" He's scared. "Don't leave me by myself. Please."

Relief trumps whatever feelings of impropriety might have bubbled up inside him if Hoseok had hesitated even one moment, but as it is, the Captain nods readily without a second thought. "Of course," he says. "If that's what you want, then of course I'll stay." Sucking in a shaky breath, Yoongi nods too, grateful. "I'm just going to..." Hoseok gestures towards the door and trails off briefly as Yoongi divests himself of his bloodstained tunic while he heads further inside. "...Lock this," the alpha adds finally. The sound of the door clicking shut meets Yoongi's ears a second later, and when he looks over his shoulder, the sight that greets him is that of Hoseok's averted gaze; he appears particularly interested in said door. For a while, Yoongi doesn't quite understand why he feels even worse than he had moments ago.

He steps out of his trousers and undergarments and gets into the bath Hoseok had drawn for him, letting his thoughts wonder about the lavender petals floating in the tub-they're on a ship in the middle of the vast ocean, so where and how did the Captain acquire them? Carefully, he cups his hands to scoop a few of them up, along with a handful of water. Shutting his eyes as he brings them to his nose allows him to pick up the faint scent of the flower, but even then, it's distant, faded. Yoongi opens his eyes and spots a petal stuck to his wrist, laying next to a streak of dried blood that hasn't yet washed away. His hands jerk and he plunges them back into the water at once, an acrid taste coating his tongue, eyes smarting as the image of the dying seawitch begins to play over and over in his mind. Those shocked, fearful eyes quickly draining of life. The horrible choked gurgles. All the blood. "Hoseok," he calls out in a trembling voice. "Do you need-" Hoseok starts to turn towards him, then painstakingly averts his gaze yet again. "Ah," he says softly, blowing out a quiet breath. "Do you need anything, Yoongi?"

Yoongi stares at him, heart twisting painfully in his chest. "...Why are you all the way over there?" he asks, throat bobbing. "Why-?" Hoseok nearly sounds incredulous. "I am...trying to do the honourable thing, Your Highness." Since when was Hoseok honourable? "Bullshit," Yoongi mutters, dejection filling him to the brim. "You won't you won't even look at me now, and you don't want me ever since I..." he swallows tightly again, trying not to keep his voice from wobbling this time. "Ever since I killed " Hoseok whips around now, wide eyes fully on him now. "That is not true," he practically growls, the first trickles of sweetness weaving into his scent, telling Yoongi he's displeased. Telling Yoongi he means his words. Yoongi's chest heaves, and there is a clamant storm of emotions roiling inside him. "Prove it, then," he challenges. Brows furrowed, Hoseok begins to ask, "What do you-" "Get into the bath with me," Yoongi says boldly, heart thundering against his ribcage.

don’t ask me how many bath scenes there will be in this fic !!

(the answer is /at least/ three, and the third one isn’t even technically going to be a bath scene)

also there’s a vote on twt to help captain!seok decide what to do about his omega’s ask ↓↓

#wipwednesday
#btsfic

🥺🥺🥺

2018 doesn’t seem so far away but apparently it is 😭

heh heh

the full art piece for mtdwh sope; this is the third time i’ve been gifted fanart for this fic, and idk what to say except i’m so honoured and proud to have been able to write something that would inspire others to this extent. these two characters are so so precious to me 🥺

Yoongi looks down at himself, skin crawling as he registers the stain of blood stark on his hands, branding him a killer. The taste of bile coats his tongue, bitter and acerbic as he shakes his head and begins to wipe his hands against his clothes. "I n-need to get clean," he mumbles, frantic. "There's blood everywhere, and it's on me, the smell- I s-should clean myself up-" "...Yoongi." He barely hears Hoseok though, eyes filling with tears when he realizes he can't wipe the dried blood off his hands or his neck even as he begins to scratch at it. "Yoongi, stop," Hoseok urges, reaching forward to grab both of his hands. "Please," he adds quietly, voice breaking a little.

There are multiple rips in Hoseok's shirt, all from being cut while fighting however many of the mercenaries he'd had to get through to get to Yoongi. The most noticeable of them is a gash along his right arm that looks somewhat deep and hasn't stopped bleeding. And yet, Hoseok had held a sword unflinchingly with that arm and fought for him... Yoongi blinks, eyes wet and scratchy. He opens his mouth, intending to express worry for the Captain, but the only thing that leaves him is a pitiful whimper. He goes easily when Hoseok carefully pulls him into his arms, releasing a shuddering breath as he buries his nose into the crook of the other's neck, and squeezes his eyes shut tightly, trying to ignore the smell of bloodshed on Hoseok in favour of that familiar lavender scent that's only ever been comforting to him. "Hoseok, I n-need to get clean," he chokes out desperately. "Please, I can't—" "The situation outside will be over soon, and once it's safe out there, I will run you a bath, Yoongi, I promise," Hoseok says softly, trying to placate him.

everyone clap for me, i’ve returned to the regularly scheduled ‘putting prince!gi through the wringer’ show ;)

#wipwednesday

A Poem Titled ‘Softcore Hanahaki.’ It reads: It was early spring when we sat at the mouth of your pool. toes dipping into the cold water while we waited for it to get warm enough to swim in summer could not come fast enough. the watery sun dripped dark-golden ichor onts our bodies, glistening like sweat, something humming and lazy and intangible. While the hazy light cast over the new blooms of marigolds and roses and wildflowers preening in the unruly brambles of your forgotten garden, I was talking about picking you flowers, and you were asking me about religion. The moment hung heavy with the magic of naivete and a perceived romance. What do you make of the story of Naomi and Ruth?" you asked. The question felt sudden and I didn't have an answer. Was it loyalty or love?' you mused. I didn't think often about the story or god, and I said so. Loyalty or love? It could have been both, in hindsight. It may have been melancholy as well. The water was In the summer, you were gone and there was no one to go swimming with. finally warm enough, but I sat by myself on the tiled ground and watched the aquamarine ripples. Finally summer and there was no one to debate flowers and god, so I sat until the heat grew unbearable until I'd breathed in the marigolds and roses so much I could feel their spores rattling in my chest. I wrote a letter to melancholy and called it loyalty- 'It had to be loyalty, I say out loud to nobody, In between the ache taking root in my chest and the certainty that you wanted me to pick one of the two. There can be no love without loyalty, no loyalty without love, I should have said

By autumn, the rain comes and floods the pool in your backyard, washes away the vibrance of the flowers in your garden. I wanted to ask if you'd let me put a crown of roses in your hair. but you were asking me about god and Ruth and Naomi instead I should have said 'where you go I will go, but now there's nothing left except the smell of wet and the roots and vines clogging my throat. In the winter, I wrote a letter to melancholy and called it love. We couldn't wait for the heat of summer once, now it has come and gone and I can only stare at the reflection in your frozen pool In my dreams, we dip our toes into the water and our fingers ignite with sparks where they brush against each other. I wrote a letter to you and it went something along the lines of, Dear melancholy, I loved you as loud as thunder greets the sky, but I never seemed to be beard. Dear loyalty, I would have gone wherever you led' It will be spring again soon, and in my dreams you are next to me- the flowers bloom to life in my chest and I hack up a cough, spitting out red and gold ichor. In my dreams, I pick up the bloody petals and weave you a crown of roses and marigolds while you lay in my lap and tell me how much you love them.

earlier today i received in the mail, the second publication where my third poem was published, so here i take a bow 🙂‍↕️

remember when yoongi was missing for ages and jimin took a picture of him and tweeted ‘he’s alive’ 😔😔 i need him to do that for me again 😔😔😔

hey alexa, play spaghetti by le sserafim ft. j-hope of bts 😋

mtdwh sope by one of my readers djdhksgjfdkj

this is going to be me in 50 years fr 🤭

THANK YOU MIA AAAAAAAAAA 😭🫶🏾

thak you so much 🥺

aaaaahhh thank you SO MUCH 😭🫶🏾

THANK YOU 🥺🫶🏾

thank you so much 😭

thank u sm !!

AAAAAA THANK YOUUU !!!

tysm !

hi hi everyone, not bts related but today i got my first two poems published in a zine !! i think namjoon and yoongi would be proud of me 🥺

djsfjksfjks it’s okay, thank u for trying 🫶🏾

the plot point would stand out to them both because they’re ‘experts’ at reading all the signs of the storm, and bc yoongi helped them realize an important clue 👀

i have…. Too Many 🫩

i thought about that but i don’t want to go that route bc [insert spoilers here] reasons