Is Jimin a cat or dog person?

His Calico Cat | pjm + myg

Park Jimin. A person who has a ability to read a person’s mind, feelings, and emotions. And yes, Jimin is just not an ordinary person who lives in this strange world. No one knows and no one will ever be. The only main reason why he was still here is, to make someone happy, and that was Jimin’s mission. Not quite sure enough, Jimin chose to still stay here in this world hoping to find that one person to make them happy. And after all these years.. He finally found one.

And that was Min Yoongi.

The first time he saw him at the grave where he was crying all alone, bruises and wounds on his face or maybe his body. Jimin felt pity on him where he used his powers to read Yoongi’s emotions. For what he saw is, Yoongi wishing the person to come back alive from the death which is impossible and will never happen in reality. And he knows that person is a very important in his life.

And he approached Yoongi, offering the handkerchief he had, Yoongi was hesitated but he took it anyway to wipe his tears. As Jimin looked at Yoongi’s dark eyes, it was swelling too much from crying that even his eyeballs are getting reddish. Jimin who is confident enough to sit beside Yoongi, he noticed the man slightly moved a bit making a weird look at him, Jimin understand that cause they never know each other especially they are just ‘strangers’ also they just met right now.

He looked at up at the blue sky with cotton clouds, feeling the cool air as their hairs whipped because of the moderate wind. Before he left, he wanted to make sure to make this person knows why to stay alive, be alive, and enjoy the good moments.

«I can see you are not fine so I won’t ask you if you’re okay.» Jimin said, deep breathes he was doing glancing up at the pale boy infront of him, examining his bruises, Jimin decided to help him more and more. He doesn’t know but he wanted to, Jimin was very determined to.

And he would do anything for this boy to make him happy..

Monday 10:30 am

Jimin mostly spend his time with Taehyung since they are classmates, he is social, but not kinda, unlike Taehyung who talks to anyone, boys and girls. He is not that anti-social like Yoongi, Jimin talks to everyone but he only talks to good people unlike delinquents boys infront of the desks. Jimin glared at them already feeling the hate he was having, Jimin doesn’t like bad people. And he was glad Taehyung isn’t like them.

​​​​​​»Wanna go at canteen?» Taehyung smiled grabbing his bag on his desk lifting it up showing how cool he is, Jimin chuckled «Yeah, others must be waiting for us.» He grabbed his bag too following Taehyung from behind. Making their way, Jimin averted his gaze which he obviously noticed Yoongi talking to a girl. «Yoongi talking to a cute girl.. How cute.» Tae teased and Jimin elbowed him on his stomach but not that painful. Taehyung still hissed at Jimin. «Hey hyung!» Taehyung greeted making Yoongi to look at them both, he looked at Jimin first before turning his eyes at Taehyung, he nodded «Hey.» Yoongi simply said «Who’s that girl hyung? She looks kinda cutie.» Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows and Yoongi rolled his eyes at him. «She thanked me for letting her borrow my notes you pabo.» Yoongi flicks his forehead, Jimin giggled.

«I should probably tell you’re cheating to Jungkook.» Yoongi smirked «NO PLEASE HYUNG I AM SORRY!» The boy pleaded. «Then no teasing, understand?» Yoongi scolding Taehyung as if he was a naughty child, Tae pouted «I understand..» He mumbled.

«Oh there you are guys! We’ve been waiting for you!» Jin greeted the three males when suddenly Taehyung looks around, «Where is Jungkook?» Taehyung asked «Missing him already do ya? Don’t worry he just bought us for drinks.» Namjoon explained flashing a huge grin «And speaking of Jungkook, here he is Taehyung.» Jimin pointed at him where Jungkook carrying some dozens of drinks that were put in one plastic bag, he put it on the table and Jin raised a brow at him «Why are these so many?» He asked, Jungkook shrugged «I don’t know, the vending machine wasn’t working after I put my coin in so I kicked it.. And this happens.» Jungkook pointed the drinks making Yoongi snickered «You really a strong person Jungkook-ah.» Jungkook huffs «Well atleast people didn’t notice me!» Jungkook protested «Oh I just hope jagi~» Taehyung grabbing the orange canned soda drinking it, and everyone stares at him «What? I’m thirsty okay?!»

«More like thirsty for me.» Jungkook winked.

«Oh shut up please.» Taehyung chuckled

«Oh please, get a room guys!» Jimin and Yoongi saying at the same time. «You guys are high key kinky shits huh.» Seokjin smirked making Namjoon snorted «It’s too obvious why you just noticed it right now hyung?» Namjoon snickered. And these two men blushing in embarassment, Jungkook regreted that he shouldn’t have said that in front of his friends, well atleast when they are just alone, him and Taehyung.

Time skip » 5:00 pm

Jimin cracked the bones of his knuckles making his way out of the gate, the orange sky seeing the sun was about to go down. ‘Sunset is amazing’ he thought to himself. A blue haired boy which is Yoongi grabbing his bicycle and was about to ride it to go home as well when Jimin catch up, he runs «Hyung!» Jimin waved making the boy look at him «Oh, hey Jimin-ah. You going home?» The blunnete boy asked with a small smile on his lips, Jimin chuckled and nodded. «Heh, well yeah. Want to go home together?» Jimin asking playing with his fingertips, Yoongi shrugged «Sure, I- well- let’s go then.» He grinned.

While they are walking, they spend their times talking to a random stuffs for atleast they would not be awkward when they are walking together. Jimin who knows a lot of topics to talk about which Yoongi loved to listen to him more and more, atleast none of them are quiet, and thanks to Jimin. «Ah! I’m home now.» Yoongi uttered and Jimin looks at him «Wow, you live here hyung?» The blonde boy said staring at the outside of his house «Uh, y-yeah. Wanna come in?» Yoongi beckoning Jimin «Sure, I wanna see your house what is looks like.» Jimin said.

Yoongi put his bicycle on the corner, getting his house keys on his pockets. He unlocked the door and glances at Jimin, Yoongi coming in first and Jimin followed him «Um, make yourself feel at home.» Yoongi rubbing his nape putting his bag on the table. Jimin looks around, the first thing he saw was the picture frame of his family on the wall, «So this what his family looks like.» Jimin mumbled to himself as he put his big sling bag on the couch. Examining the picture, Yoongi was a child back then, his rare gummy smiles on the picture holding his mother, and there is his father beside to his older brother. «Um, wait here. I gotta feed my dog.» Yoongi said, Jimin looks at him «You have dog?! Can I see it?» Jimin saying, big grin on his face, Jimin is a pet lover which he loves cats and dogs. «Sure, follow me.» Yoongi smiled.

Yoongi leads Jimin into his room and opens the door to see the dog running wildly to approach his owner, Yoongi giggled picking up his dog patting him on his head. Jimin cooed «Hyung what breed he is? He looks adorable.» He shuffles at Yoongi playing at the dog’s ear making Yoongi to let out a soft chuckles «I think he is a toy poodle.» He smiled. Jimin bit his lower lip glancing up at Yoongi «C-Can I hold him?» Jimin asking, Yoongi didn’t hesitated, he handed Holly on Jimin’s arms «Don’t worry he doesn’t bite.» Yoongi sits on the corner of his bed watching Jimin playing with his dog.

Holly starts licking Jimin’s cheek making the blonde boy chuckled cuddling the dog, Yoongi who has been smiling looking at them both, he thought to himself they both are adorable.. «What’s his name? Where did you get this dog?» Jimin focusing in the dog then averted his brown eyes at Yoongi «His name was Holly, and my big brother is the one who gave that name.» He paused for a moment «I adopted him because he was an abandoned dog, I felt pity on him so I took him taking care of him like my own son.» By that Jimin smiles, Yoongi was a very caring person that he even adopted the dog because he felt bad about him, Jimin giggled «Holly is a very lucky dog who have a kindhearted owner.» Jimin stated making Yoongi blush, small pink tint on his cheeks. «T-Thanks.» Yoongi stuttered.

«I wanna see you and your dog more often.» Jimin pouted letting go Holly watching him runs «Well, I don’t mind if you go here whatever you like.» Yoongi shyly said. Jimin’s eyes widen «Y-You mean.. Whatever I like to?» Jimin make sure, Yoongi nodded «I mean yeah, I think it would be fun I guess. You and me and Holly- besides I am lonely since they took my father at the mental hospital. I hope he is doing fine.» Yoongi looked up at the ceiling «I am very sure your father is alright.» Jimin pats his shoulder «And I would love to accompany you so you won’t be alone anymore.» The blonde hummed, «Thank you, Jiminie.»

«New nickname for me? That’s cute.» He chuckled «Well, I am not very good at nicknames though! ChimChim or Jiminie. Yeah I will call you that from now on.» Yoongi snickered playfully elbowing Jimin «Hmm.. Should I call you Yoongs then?» Jimin hummed «I- well- you just changed it ‘i’ to ‘s’ to make it Yoongs.» Yoongi smirked «I don’t care!» Jimin huffs «I will still call you Yoongs!» Jimin sticked out his tongue at him «Fine. Whatever you like Jiminie.» Yoongi laughs.

Hello, hello goes the voice, immediately, then rushed. It gives me an unexpected, long pause to decide whether to hang up on this intrusion, and just when my thumb decides yes, I hear the voice calling out “Jimin-ah, is that you?” before drowning into nothingness. My thumb perspires against the heat of the end button. It’s Yeju.

Seoul is sweltering that summer. Sometime around May, the sun became a nuisance and not the beacon of warmth that doused us in sporadic beauty. By June, hellfire. People share near- death experiences over the phone and I secretly rejoice. The heat wave is as good a reason as any to remain in status quo, holed up and hunched in my room, festering, licking my wounds.

“Please don’t call again,” I write back. “Even with a different number.”

But my phone pleads. An hour it says, just an hour. Okay, thirty minutes. Even less. Please.

We meet at a tent bar where older men drink alone. The orange tent is partially open to let out the heat. A rickety fan spews hot air in the corner, facing the cook whose face is awash in an oily, red sheen that resembles the color of her apron. We order food. The smell of scallions sizzling in fresh oil makes heads turn lazily towards the sky, whiffing and panting.

“I’m paying.” Yeju scrambles over to the counter. The cook palms the money and offers us soju in return. Silently, we each down a shot and watch the flour puddles turn golden brown on the skillet.

Yeju is bare faced today, her form-fitting blouse a smattering of funfetti against white polyester. The flimsy material is sticking to her skin and turning beige. Wrapped around her legs is a pencil skirt of moderate length, no heels. A cheap vinyl bag with the print of a running poodle on its side completes the look. Not her usual form.

She catches me assessing.

“How’ve you been doing?” she asks.

I’ve been telling close acquaintances I’ve been sick. A benign tumor. “I’ve been sick. Benign tumor. That threatens to be aggressive.”

The cook scissors thick pancakes into manageable portions before serving them up, effectively cutting me off. The sides are burnt and crispy, the dish a little too much flour and not nearly enough scallion. Yeju tears off the burnt bits before she wolfs down a piece.

“So,” I prompt. “Start talking.”

The hollow of her cheek bulges as she pushes her mouthful to the side, chipmunk-like. She begins.

It all started with a man and ended with his wife slapping her in front of six of her co- workers. The man, K, had a small apartment to his name, a Hyundai Avante, and also a funnel chest that prevented him from getting frontally nude with her, ever. But he’d shown himself to his wife and that niggled Yeju.

“I’ve heard this a million times before,” I tell her. “Twenty minutes.”

“There’s more this time. I promise.” She rips into another pancake.

The married K was good friends with another man, an insurance salesman called S. Yeju thought S a proper gentleman because he bought her two glasses of white wine and nothing more. He didn’t press for sex. Her sob story about being the office wife turned into a nuzzle, where he kneaded her thighs with his veiny hands as he gently head-butted her neck over and over again. One night, he drove her along the Han Kang Bridge and they watched the rainbow lights “flirt with the night sky”—his words.

“I’m leaving,” I tell her. I wish to curl up in bed and wake up in December.

“No, listen.” Yeju fills her paper cup to the brim. “Initially, I was trying to get back at K; I admit this. But I ended up really digging S. I met his family and all.”

She drums her fingers on her neckline. “S had a brother. Slim, good looking kid, only seventeen. He was a neutdoongyee, thus the absolute baby of the family. The mother was forty- six when he was born.”

The man next to us snorts. Yeju ignores him, or rather, doesn’t notice.

“His brother was blind. Nothing congenital. This kid was born healthy and stayed in tiptop condition throughout his adolescence. Then he suddenly went blind when he was sixteen.”

Her hand makes a pulling motion as if she’s switching off a light. Despite myself, I am hooked. Yeju has a knack for this, which is why she was so successful as a bar hostess. Most girls there listened but Yeju could really talk.

“Naturally the family was devastated, S most of all. He adored his brother from what I’ve heard. In fact, he claims he’s only ever loved me like he loves his little brother.”

I gag. “It’s a sales pitch. He’s in insurance.”

“Right. But that insurance saved his family. They were about to lose the house. The mother was diabetic, which led to renal insufficiency, which eventually led to hospice care. The father lost his job in a layoff and refuses to wash himself anymore, because what’s the point? Add to that the poor blind boy and you’ve got yourself a chronic situation,”—she uses the English word— “and S felt guilty because he thought, well, blood money. That money saved them.”

Yeju takes a pause to swig and I follow suit.

“They say soju tastes sweet when you’re miserable,” she titters nervously. I’m entirely unimpressed with this role she’s given herself.

“And, well. He decided anyone he cared about should understand the benefits of insurance. You never know when you might drive your car off the road or go blind.”

“That’s awful pessimistic of him.”

“Like you, Jimin. Your semi-benign tumor?” She challenges me now, her heavy-lidded, half-moon eyes waxing. I am waiting for the moment she asks me to partake in her beau’s insurance scheme.

“Anyhow, I told S the only way I’d spring for something that big is if he’d do it with me. And like I told you, he’s a gentleman. He applied first. I applied next. We are moving towards a new level of commitment as a couple.”

“How stupid are you?” I ask.

She plucks a ring from the depths of her blouse, tethered to her neck by a delicate silver chain. Baby diamonds huddle in a neat line atop a thin, platinum road. The ring looks a hair too small for her fingers and does not belong in this seedy tent.

“He proposed,” she says.

“Did he?” My plastic stool scrapes concrete as I stand. The alcohol shoots straight to my brain and my teeth start to pound.

“This was mildly interesting.”

“Good to see you, Yeju. I think we’re done here.”

I walk through the tent sleeves without saying goodbye, realizing a few drunken steps later I’ve left my sandals at the bottom of my seat. Yeju emerges a moment later in a halo of light, my sandals in one hand and her vinyl bag smothered to her chest in the other. Her mouth rounds into an O as she trips over a beveled tile on the sidewalk, releasing a scratchy yelp as she lands on hard concrete. On all fours, she looks up and addresses the night sky: “I’m fine.”

I quicken my pace. Yeju swallows the pain and tails me. Gravel bites into the soles of my feet as Dangsan Road expands and brightens upon itself, and I reach the four-way intersection where two boys and a girl are walking a Pomeranian dressed in red booties. This nugget of a dog gets critical of my dirty, naked feet and proceeds to wrap its strap around me as it loop-de-loops, yip-yip-yip.

“Ottokhe—I’m so sorry,” the girl apologizes as she hands the harness to her friends and helps me loose. Twenty yards back, Yeju is still hobbling after me with shredded knees. When the street light hits her square, all three adolescents gasp and jaywalk from the site, dog in arms. The light turns blue.

Yeju finally catches up and throws herself onto my back. Her arms snake over my clavicles as my back arches, my legs kicking seconds after my brain tells them to, slow and heavy like they belong to someone else. My mouth is smashed against her bicep. MAC Ruby-woo drags along the polyester, leaving permanent, garish streaks. There is no one around but cars.

“His little brother didn’t just go blind,” Yeju gasps. “S took out a youth insurance policy a year before that kid went blind.”

“Needle, from a syringe.” Her arm is a hot noose, her whisper scallions and liquor. “He said it went in like going through thick pudding. Or like yanggeng, red bean bars. S was crying buckets when he told me.”

Sensing my body slacken, she unfolds herself some.

“Would you listen now?”

I nod. Face to face, Yeju gives me a look I instantly recognize as the one from my wedding, the time she caught the bouquet.

She was my purse-gal. Yeju flanked me throughout the entire pre-ceremony, collecting envelopes stuffed with cash and holding my purse while suits and mid-length dresses floated into the boudoir and took glossy photos of us looking unnaturally happy. My parents didn’t approve of this harlot, this semi-prostitute-in-waiting—as my mother called her—standing in as my best girl. My mother, the stay-at-home tutor, and my father, a distinguished professor of a university no one has ever heard of—they like to think themselves as proper, well-meaning folk. They did little to hide their contempt. Yeju graciously stayed until the end, her beautiful nails a bloody mess by mid-reception from being chewed on when she thought no one was looking.

I should’ve defended her. But her social accounts are peppered with heavy-handed documentation of takeout coffee and beautiful food, men with missing heads that only hint at the identity of the recorded. The most they show are pearly smiles because Yeju crop every photo she uploads to keep her life undefined.

Yet defined her life was, at least in my eyes. She used to tell me stories about her men, paying clients and non-paying ones. The way her hair cascaded onto pillows of every bachelor pad and motel imaginable—once, the back seat of a moving train; once, the gleaming wooden surface of a temple floor. The smell of hand sanitizers. Sanitized hands patting under pillows each time, groping for a condom, a knife, an ulterior motive, for her phone, to tell me that I was the only person she could truly be open with ever since that day we met in the hospital where we both eventually lost something: her, a womb, and me, a baby. In the end, her stories meld together—the motels, card keys, and cheap toothbrushes that spit bristles into her mouth where she eventually gives up and gargles using her own travel-sized Listerine, spitting again and again into a bowl that is perpetually coated with fluid, under a light that casts violet shadows on her face. I may have tolerated my mother’s vision of Yeju, if not outright believed it.

She didn’t want the bouquet. I threw it to her anyways. When the time came, she caught the flowers half-heartedly, almost quizzically, as if the hydrangeas and peonies had taken flight by their own volition and landed in her arms, like an evil omen, or a reminder. When we locked eyes amidst the flurry of cheers, Yeju shot me a look. Later, before I went off to Saipan for my honeymoon, she toasted me and slurred: be happy enough for the both of us.

“I’m planning to do the same to K.” The Yeju in front of me says.

We are still under the street lights, backed by the constant flow of traffic. I look down and half-expect to see my wedding dress dragging in hot gravel.

“You’re the only person I’m telling.” She pats the rump of her vinyl bag. “K took out an insurance, too, under S’s guidance.”

“Are you still seeing K?”

“No.” She shakes her damp curls. “Could if I wanted to.”

“Did S put you up to this?” I ask, feeling more absurd by the minute. “How do you know he won’t do the same to you? After all, he blinded his own brother.”

“I just know,” she says. “That brother is living with us now. We’re paying for his everything, and that’s okay. I’m living with S, and that’s okay, too.”

I watch Yeju rummaging around in her bag, fishing for validation.

“If anyone finds out,” she says. “I’m going to bring this to the authorities.” The syringe rests at the bottom of a ziplock bag.

“He kept it,” she says.

We walk back together. Our tired legs glide over the intersection, the flickering lights, the tent-bar, the gravel. We are swept into the maws of a dark apartment building, lifted by an elevator that smells vaguely of dead roses, cat pee. At the entrance of my apartment, Yeju leans tentatively against the doorway, tracing her breath with palms folded over her chest.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” she asks.

“Maybe.” I wave her off. “I might tell on you.”

“That’s the chance I’m willing to take.”

Yeju sinks gently to the floor, shivering despite the heat. A paper-thin rivulet of blood is traveling down her left shin, heading straight for the talus. She says she’s not drunk, just exhausted.

As she lies still on the sofa, her head slowly dividing the two cushions propped beneath her cranium, I dress her wounds with mercurochrome, dabbing red over red.

“What did it look like?” she suddenly asks.

“His chest. I want to know.”

Her eyes are wide open, thick pudding and red bean bars. “Search up any old funnel chest on the web and you’ll see.”

Yeju shakes her head. “But it’s not his, y’know. I just want to know what was so bad about it that he had to hide the damn thing.”

The deep hollow of K’s chest floats by my line of vision, a fleshy bowl that cradled my palm every night for the six years we were married. He cried real tears the day he revealed it to me. He cried over many things, one pearly tear for each flaw.

“With no kids in the picture, you’re going to get a good amount.” Yeju smiles. “Maybe you can go back to school. Or try flying yoga. Remember you wanted to try flying yoga?”

I don’t remember a time when I wished for such things. Yeju dozes off, her nose kissing the hatch mark surface of my sofa. Her handbag is half open and loose by my feet. Her knees are an open wound, as are my soles, and I vaguely recall my high school teacher saying heat travels up girls, heat travels up. My body burns as I drift into an adjacent room, dialing. He picks up and calls out my name; hello, hello, immediately, then rushed. “Jimin-ah, is that you?” He’s ready to come back home. I open my mouth to find a blister taking over, knotting grey matter over my failing lips, sealing them shut.

BT21

UNIVERSTAR BT21 Hailing from Planet BT, Prince TATA dreams to spread love across the galaxy. Deciding that destiny is at hand, TATA summons guardian robot VAN to prepare for an interstellar journey to Earth. Shortly after arrival, the Prince concludes that the most effective means to win over the hearts of earthlings is to become a super, no. something much more ambitious. A UNIVERSTAR. Realizing that a collective effort is crucial, TATA & VAN scout for like-minded hopefuls to share in the dream. Soon they discover 6- KOYA, RJ, SHOOKY, MANG, CHIMMY and COOKY- to become what will be known as the most influential pop-culture sensation the galaxy has ever witnessed. BT21.

Gifted sleepyhead KOYA

Brilliant, multi-talented KOYA is quite the ‘sleeping cutie’. KOYA naps with a mind heavily filled with thoughts.
#talented #pillow #droopyeyes #removableears

Kind, loving, foodie RJ

RJ loves cooking. RJ loves eating. It’s usually in that order. The fluffy fur coat and compassionate soul make everyone feel right at home.
#greetings #gentlesoul #parka #omnomnom

Mini prankster SHOOKY

Tiny SHOOKY loves pulling pranks, especially ones dropped on friends. The one thing SHOOKY hates most is milk.
#fun #manyfaces #mini #CRUNCHYSQUAD

Expressive faced dancing machine MANG MANG

Always carrying around a mysterious mask, you can only see MANG’s cute heart smile without the mask on.
#mask #heartshapemouth
#bestdancer #puffycheeks

The pure-at-heart CHIMMY

CHIMMY always sports the signature yellow hoodie and is compelled to work hard on anything that catches CHIMMY’s attention.
#passion #workhard #playhard
#harmonica #yellowhoodie

An off-the-wall, curious soul, Prince TATA

TATA is a crown prince on Planet BT. Possessor of supernatural powers and a hyper-elastic body that stretches to great lengths.
#PlanetBT #offthewall #superpowers #Prince

Brawny, hearty rumps COOKY

Don’t let COOKY’s perky appearance fool you. Always full of heart and boundless stamina, COOKY’s that one friend you can always count on.
#unbalanced #eyebrows #loyal #imaginarymuscles #wisecracker

Guardian space robot VAN

The sentient and all-knowing robot VAN seems to be knowledgeable. in just about everything in the galaxy. Acts as protector of BT21, 24/7.
#guardian #vehicle #transforming #robot

KOYA’s Relations MOYA who dreams of winning KOYA in a battle of wits, and friends from the forest who always live in peace.

Gifted sleepyhead KOYA

Brilliant, multi-talented KOYA is quite the ‘sleeping cutie’. KOYA naps with a mind heavily filled with thoughts.
#talented #pillow #droopyeyes #removableears

Adorable forest friend BAEBY

KOYA’s friend who shares yummy eucalyptus leaves with KOYA.
#Crow-tit #Cute #Chatty

Lively forest friend TOLL

Acorns that live in the eucalyptus forest together.
#Acorn #Energetic #MiniFriend

Chatty forest mate LEAF

A eucalyptus leaf that can talk.
#DontEatMe #Chatty #ForestFriend

A self-called genius MOYA

MOYA thinks smart KOYA as a rival, but that’s only what MOYA thinks.
#Sloppy #Arrogant #Doer

RJ’s Relations Family overflowing with love. However, there is one secret that even RJ doesn’t know about.

Kind, loving, foodie RJ

RJ loves cooking. RJ loves eating. It’s usually in that order. The fluffy fur coat and compassionate soul make everyone feel right at home.
#greetings #gentlesoul #parka #omnomnom

Dedicated loving father RA

RJ’s father, RA, would do anything for his family and his fur.
#ChestFur #Loving #LoveBeyondBorders

Elegant cooking master Rㄱ

RJ’s mother Rㄱ has a great sense of style and is a wonderful cook who loves her family.
#BestCook #Loving #CookingMaster

Innocent sweetie RK

RJ’s sibling. With pure innocent eyes, RK can make everyone fall in love with RK.
#Pure #Innocent #Baby

A dirty grump DJ

DJ, an alternate identity that pops up whenever RJ gets dirty. Sensitive and cranky.
#Dirty #Sensitive #Cranky

SHOOKY’s Relations 362 CRUNCHY SQUAD Squad brought to life inside Grandpa MUSTASHU’s BAKERY TINY SWEET. The leader, of course, is SHOOKY.

Mini prankster SHOOKY

Tiny SHOOKY loves pulling pranks, especially ones dropped on friends. The one thing SHOOKY hates most is milk.
#fun #manyfaces #mini #CRUNCHYSQUAD

Warm patissier MUSTASHU

The one who blew life into SHOOKY and the CRUNCHY SQUAD. After drinking sour milk, he’s unable to bake anymore.
#BakeryinCrisis #Patissier #GingerBreadman

Chitty Chatty Fellas CRUNCHY SQUAD

Friends who follow SHOOKY. SHOOKY calls these friends the CRUNCHY SQUAD. #362Friends
#Pranksters #HateMilk

The oven villain SPOOKY

Cookie who was left alone in the oven, burnt.
#Anger #Hate #Yearning
MANG’s Relations MANG’s dance mentor CONN, and MANG’s eternal dance rival GWANG.

Expressive faced dancing machine MANG MANG

Always carrying around a mysterious mask, you can only see MANG’s cute heart smile without the mask on.
#mask #heartshapemouth #bestdancer #puffycheeks

Legendary dance mentor CONN

MANG’s leader, CONN, is the best dancer who dreams about romance.
#Star #Mentor #Narcissist

2nd best lonely dancer GWANG

GWANG feels jealous of MANG who is a better dancer.
#Unicorn #BestStudent #2ndBest

CHIMMY’s Relations Although everything is questionable to CHIMMY, not even knowing oneself, CHIMMY tries very hard at everything with passion. But, CHIEF from gym is the opposite when it comes to personality and talent!

The pure-at-heart CHIMMY

CHIMMY always sports the signature yellow hoodie and is compelled to work hard on anything that catches CHIMMY’s attention.
#passion #workhard #playhard #harmonica #yellowhoodie

Prickly blunt talker CHIEF

Often offends others by speaking bluntly.
#MyWay #Haughty #HurtfulAdvice

Street wanders HAPPY KIDDOS

Little ones hanging out all day long. Always busily exploring the neighborhood.
#HangOut #Together #w00t!

TATA’s Relations TATA who chose to travel the world, instead of life as a royal family.

An off-the-wall, curious soul, Prince TATA

TATA is a crown prince on Planet BT. Possessor of supernatural powers and a hyper-elastic body that stretches to great lengths.
#PlanetBT #offthewall #superpowers #Prince

The king of Planet BT FAFA

The king of Planet BT, TATA’s father is strict and solemn.
#RoyalFamily #Strict #SpreadLove

Greedy elite prince TUTU

TATA’s brother TUTU has the exact opposite personality of TATA.
#Firstborn #FirstinlinetoThrone #Elite

Clever cutiepie princess TITI

TATA’s sister TITI is a daring princess with a mind of her own, who often outsmarts her brothers.
#princess #cutiepie #clever

COOKY’s Relations COOKY’s friends who trained for boxing together. Their friendship is tougher than boxing!

Brawny, hearty rumps COOKY

Don’t let COOKY’s perky appearance fool you. Always full of heart and boundless stamina, COOKY’s that one friend you can always count on.
#unbalanced #eyebrows #loyal #imaginarymuscles #wisecracker

Buff, tough, rough boxer C-GUL

COOKY’s father C-GUL is a blunt boxer.
#Power #SportsMania #RealMuscles

Nothing but sweet BFF JOOKY

JOOKY is a friend of COOKY who used to learn boxing together.
#Bestie #Brown #Cute #Innocent

Disappeared bestie IAN

IAN, who was once very close to COOKY and JOOKY, one day disappeared after fighting with JOOKY. #BlackEars #Mystery