#and i struggled drawing this bc overseer pretty

[zeddertop-bugster]

i think it would be really funny if we started isekai-ing larry into high fantasy completely illlfitting settings. this is funny to one person and its me.

[undercover-monsterlover]

I just found your blog and im in my jojo era so i am SO thankful you do jojo matchups you are my savior thank you <3

So! I would like a matchup from JJBA please and thank you! I'm female, fine with any pronouns but i prefer she/her! I'd like to be matched with a man ty

I'm a very optimistic person in general, but certain things just tick me off so badly i can't help it. Most of the time im sweet and kind, im basically the mom friend. I lovee getting to know other people but i struggle with the whole social thing. I'm a sensitive person and i WILL cry or atleast tear up if watching sad movies/shows. I'm an amateur voice actor, it's a passion of mine and i love doing it! I also rlly like going trough my fav characters and looking at who their vas are then get giddy when i hear them somewhere else lol. I also love love drawing even if im not the best and i also LOVE reading, be it manga or books. I could yap about my fav things forever, but i kinda never do because i always think it just annoys people and nobody cares about what i have to say, so i just sometimes bring things up nobody else knows of and they stare at me like 👁_👁. My love language is physical touch for sure i loveee cuddling and holding hands and shit.

I honestly have a kinda specific type even if we don't take appearance into account, that's a different story. I seem to gravitate toward men who are the most childish, loud, overconfident (deserved or not) people on the planet it's honestly so noticeable too if i look at my fav characters. I just want a funny, silly, goofy man.

I'm 5'3 and have looong wavy brown hair that kinda curls up at times. I also have some big ass green eyes, freckles and a shit ton of birthmarks, like i have atleast 3 on every body part. My style is honestly just casual, i basically wear hoodies or oversized shirts 24/7 bc theyre comfy.

Uhh yeah i hope it isnt too much to ask for :3 ty in advance!!

Alright, I'd match you with...

Jean Pierre Polnareff

I felt that Polnareff was a strong match for you, especially given your type. I wanted to match you with someone who is loud, funny, and overconfident, but knows how to tone it down just a touch when appropriate, so you have someone that fits your type, but is still good for you and doesn't wear you out in the long run. I'd say especially in the beginning, Polnareff does most of the social heavy lifting, he could talk to a brick wall for an hour without caring, so it makes it easy for you to get to know him, and become comfortable around him, before you start opening up in return. We know he's a very forward person, so you never really have to struggle to figure out what his intentions are, or decipher complex social cues, what he says is pretty much what he means.

It doesn't take long for Polnareff to consciously decide/realize he likes you beyond just a friend. He especially loves how optimistic you are, he can be a touch reactive, even moody, so your outlook reminds him to look on the brighter side of things. Throughout the show, he's very sweet to the girls and women the crusaders come across, so I think he would take that to the next level with someone he actually knows likes. Opening doors for you, pulling your chair out, generally being very attentive. He's definitely a romantic, and he'll remind you that's because he's a Frenchman at every opportunity.

He is just insufferable during the flirting stage. He is always trying to show off for you, and blatantly at that. Straight up flexing for you, letting you feel his muscles, making a show out of lifting or carrying things. You'll never have to carry luggage or shopping bags again in your life, and he'll probably tell you that point blank. And god does he love to make you laugh. You wanted someone funny? Well he can definitely provide. Even if what he's doing isn't exactly funny, his unashamed attempts to get you to laugh will make you do so anyways. Every ten minutes you'll hear "watch this" only to watch him go off and do the most random bullshit. The others hate it, but you find it cute, he's very eager to please.

I think it wouldn't be too long before he confesses to you, he isn't a very patient man, and he's made it pretty obvious he likes you anyways. I think Polnareff would also unintentionally try to move the relationship forward very fast, you'll have to remind him to take things slow if you don't want a proposal within a month. He probably bought the ring before he even confessed anyways. Polnareff is also very fond of showing affection physically, he's always got an arm slung around your shoulder, or waist, or leaning you against him in cars, stroking your hair, holding hands, anything where there's skin on skin contact. He doesn't want to leave you alone for a second. You'll have to remind him to tone down the PDA if you don't want to be making out in public. And god, the pet names are almost embarrassing at times. "Mon amour, Mon trésor, lumière de ma vie, mon puce." If you ever respond with your own French pet name for him you're being smothered in kisses, btw, use that information wisely.

Polnareff LOVES to listen to you talk, no matter what it's about, and since he's also a chatter mouth, you'll go back and forth for hours. The yap sessions are unmatched in their longevity and intensity. He's often guilty of not actually processing what you're saying, letting it go in one ear and out the other, he just likes the sound of your voice. Maybe even more than he likes the sound of his own voice. And he of course loves your voice acting skills, he thinks it's funny, and cute. He keeps trying to teach you French, so you can "broaden your voice acting options" but he really just likes hearing your accent when speaking his language. He thinks it's sweet how excited you get over voice actors, but god forbid you ever mention someone having an attractive voice, or any show or movie with them is being blacklisted. I have a feeling he'd be a touch jealous overall, which might cause some tension in your relationship if he's not careful, but a conversation should fix that anytime he's going overboard.

Polnareff isn't as interested in books as you are, though he'd never tell you or refuse to let you read to him or talk about it. The manga how we, that he can get into. He's always been into comics and cartoons, so manga isn't unfamiliar to him, and he'll always read your favorites if you ask. He thinks it's adorable when you cry during movies, and he has to stop himself from laughing or cooing at you when you have tears in your eyes, but it's hard for him when he happens to look over at you during a sad screen and you're just staring at the screen with tears in your eyes.

He's always found you attractive, and he never chills out about it no matter how longe you've been dating. He thinks you have just the prettiest eyes he's ever seen, and your freckles are so cute. He seeks out your birthmarks like a scavenger hunt, and if he's feeling even more affectionate than usual he'll make sure to kiss everyone of them. He loves giving you his clothing, since you find oversized clothes comfy, but mostly because he loves seeing you wear his clothes. He may "accidentally" leave his clothes around your place so that you can keep and wear them.

Overall, your more temperate personality is very compatible with his more impulsive one, you keep his mood and his ego in check, and he makes sure you're always happy and tended to.

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

hi omg ive never seen anyone do matchups w postal b4… :D can i have a dude matchup please?

i’m 20, non-binary, and afro-latina!! i have short curly hair, glasses, and a few moles (one under my eye and one on my cheek :3) i’m kinda chubby and i always have a really tired expression. i have sh scars pretty much all over 😭 as for personality, i think i’m fairly easy going but it’s easy for me to be really obsessive about people i love. i can be really anxious sometimes, but i usually try to hide that side of me. i kind of like to gossip specifically about my coworkers. i think my strengths are how devoted i can be, my work ethic, and how easy it is for me to connect with other people. my weaknesses are how bad i am at expressing my negative emotions, how stubborn i am, and how i romanticize my own negative traits (ie: self harm). i’m also big into 2010s Internet humor. my fashion sense is kind of all over the place but i think it’s called kinderwhore? it’s a mix of a lot of punk and traditional feminine clothing. my fave thing to wear is my big oversized dark green utility jacket w a bunch of patches and pins on it :D i’m looking for a fucked up mentally ill person to balance me out (MAKE ME WORSE. PLEASE.) andddd my hobbies are hiking, making my own wildlife field guides, drawing, andd writing :3 and im super into vidya games, anime, and vintage cartoons. fun fact about me is that i am studying to become a wildlife biologist!!

You’re into so many super cool things!!! However, are you SURE you want to be worse? Because I already have the answer for that, mein freund…

I match you with:

Postal 3 Dude

Behold. If the 2010s had a corporeal form. Around the 2010-2013 era to be exact. The two of you can meme it up. You asked to be the sweetheart for a fucked up individual, but at least he’ll keep it fun!

You are an angel of light to him. He clings to you like an affectionate orange tabby. Absolutely obsessed with you. If you ever have an insecurity, he will do his best to butter you up about how beautiful you are to him.

I can see you guys snuggling up together on his armchair, watching an anime/vintage cartoon binge together. If he isn’t riffing whatever you’re watching in attempt to make you laugh, he’s chatting to you about gossip or anything you know about with wildlife biology.

Also, maybe do a couple’s let’s play channel together bc he would so be into it.

Dude is the kinda guy to smile through his surroundings spontaneously combusting. He’s pretty much accepted it with grace. So when anxiety strikes, he’ll soothe you with that slight southern drawl of his that he’s got everything under control. He doesn’t. He’s not so pure of heart, dumb of ass. But at least you know you have him as your rock.

He isn’t the best role model though. He’s the devil on your shoulder tempting you to act on your desires. Kick that bitch’s ass! Steal that thing you’re not supposed to! The Dude embraces hedonism to the fullest and he wants you to come on the joy ride.

All those hobbies of yours add so much to admire about you. He might struggle a little trying new things, but he wants you to show him all the things you like to do. You help him realize just how much more fun life can be without being an adrenaline junkie.

The kinderwhore aesthetic is totally hot to him. He’s all for the bold expression. Do you think you could sew him a patch on his trench coat?

You’re his soulmate no doubt. He’s gonna sweet you off your feet and do his damned best to keep you happy because by God you’re the best damn thing to ever bless his life

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 01

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 10.3k [1/6]

notes: this fic was originally going to be a oneshot, but i changed my mind and decided i didn’t want to kill tumblr with a totally unnecessary 50k jk fic so 🤷🏻‍♀️ here is part one of a fic that 100% only came about because @puellaigmotum​ coerced me into it like 2 years ago (lmao rip 💀) and also bc i have zero self-control and am hopelessly h*rny for jungkook these days and don’t look at me i don’t wanna talk about it okay??? 🙈

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink, some ~under the table~ action, too much detail about jk’s dumb veiny arms probably, but at least he doesn’t have tattoos bc i started writing this before he got them and i don’t need to torture myself anymore than i already do!!!

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

It’s always been easy to spot your brother in a crowd. Passengers flood off the train, jostling around you on their way to the station’s exit, but even in the swarm you can perfectly see Jimin’s golden head of hair bobbing its way toward you, a deep scowl etched across his face. “You’re late,” he says in lieu of a greeting, his honey brown eyes raking over your scuffed suitcase distastefully as he comes to a stop a few feet away.

“And you’re just as impatient as ever,” you retort, coming to a stop before him with your luggage in tow. “Think you can lord it over me since you can drive now?”

“Don’t forget that I’m your ride home,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could just as easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you tell him, raising a brow in silent challenge.

Jimin stares down at you unflinchingly, and you stare right back. The tension stretches between you, taut and heavy, until every passing second feels like a light year. Around you, the crowd slowly dissipates, but still you remain—two motionless statues locked in a wordless struggle. From somewhere overhead, a monotone voice announces the next train departure times.

Jimin’s mouth twitches. You blink, twice in quick succession.

And then your little brother breaks into a grin—one that’s so wide you fear his mouth may detach from his face entirely. An answering smile settles across your face as you watch him throw his head back, dissolving into laughter that you can’t help but echo.

“Damn it, Chim!” you say, instinctively grabbing onto his wrist when it looks like he might fall over. “Your poker face still sucks.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Jimin immediately defends. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that, right?”

“Nope.” You sigh and hold a hand over your head so you can measure your height against his ever-so-slightly taller frame. “Same old annoying kid I grew up with. Seriously, have you grown at all in the past year?”

“Whoa, too far, Noona.” Jimin takes ahold of both of your cheeks, pinching them affectionately. “You’re only a year older than me, you know. Besides, I’ve been taller than you for two years now!”

“I’m pretty sure hitting puberty at age seventeen isn’t something to be proud of,” you reply, pulling away from him with a mock grimace and giggling when he lets out an offended squeak. Playfully, you reach up to ruffle his hair, scrubbing your knuckles just a little too roughly against his skull.

“Noonaaa,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable until he runs out of air. “Jeez, you haven’t even been back for an hour yet and you’re already being mean to me. When do you go back to Seoul again?”

“Three weeks,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “But I can and will make these three weeks hell for you. Don’t test me.”

Jimin snickers and drapes his arm over your shoulders. He picks up your suitcase with the other hand, and you thank him with another, gentler hair ruffle as the two of you start toward the exit of the train station. “College hasn’t changed you one bit.”

“And senior year hasn’t changed you,” you say, letting him guide you outside and breathing in the balmy summer evening air. Jimin’s brow furrows as he tries to remember where he’s parked, and you kindly take your suitcase back when he nods decisively and heads toward the left side of the lot. “You excited to graduate?”

He sighs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys as the two of you approach the car. “It’s going to suck. Your ceremony was boring as hell last year.”

“Wow, rude.”

Jimin looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s side door. “Am I wrong, though?”

You flash him a grin as he unlocks the remaining doors, heaving your suitcase into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat beside him. “Nope. But afterward, you’ll be done with high school forever.”

“Thank god.” Your brother rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it further as he carefully starts the ignition and checks his mirrors with all the diligence of a new driver. Once satisfied, he pulls out of the parking space, meandering his way out of the lot and onto the main street.

The ride back to your childhood home is a short one, full of familiar storefronts and landmarks that dredge up all sorts of fond memories. You hadn’t expected your first year of university—away from your family and your hometown—to make you quite so emotional. But before you know it, Jimin is making the turn into your neighborhood, and you can’t stop the way your eyes begin to well up when you see your house in the distance.

As if reading your mind, Jimin glances at you as he pulls into the driveway. “Feel good to be home?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Feels great.”

He grins. Pulling the key from the ignition, he climbs out of the car and grabs your suitcase, waving for you to head inside. Eagerly, you start toward the front door, but you barely make it halfway up the driveway when it bursts open, revealing your father standing there with open arms and an enormous grin. He’s just as tall as you remember, and looks exactly the same save a few more strands of silver lacing his hair. All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, running up to give him a hug and giggling madly when he tries to scoop you up like he used to do so many years ago.

“Hi Dad,” you greet when he gives up and sets you back down on two feet. “Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking up a storm,” he replies, chortling. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he leads you into the kitchen where your mother is hunched over the stove with a spatula, delicious aromas wafting up from the array of pots and pans in front of her. “Honey, look who’s home!”

“Hi Mom,” you say, grinning when she whirls around, startled. The spatula, still dangling loosely from her hand, drips sauce onto the tiled floor, but she barely notices in her eagerness to give you a hug, throwing it down into one of the simmering pots and striding forward to wrap you up in a tight embrace.

“How was your trip?” she asks, pulling back and angling your face this way and that. “Did you sleep on the ride? Did Jimin drive safely?”

The last question draws a protesting whine from your brother, who has lugged your suitcase over the threshold and is now seated at the dining table, fiddling with a spoon. “My driving was fine, right Noona?” he says, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

“Yes, Chim,” you agree, laughing at the pleased expression that overtakes his face. Curiously, you walk over to the stove to inspect the food, your jaw dropping as you take in the assorted vegetables and meats. “Wow, Mom. Are you cooking for an army?”

“Jungkook is coming over for dinner,” she explains, following you over and plucking up the spatula again. “That boy has the biggest appetite I’ve ever seen—you remember, right?”

You laugh. “Of course I remember. He and Jimin were always stealing bites of my lunch at school.” Peering over at your brother, you fix him with a mock glare before walking over to the cutting board on the counter and sizing up the pile of onions and peppers sitting there. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. How is he doing?”

To your surprise, a new voice answers your question—a voice that somehow manages to be simultaneously familiar and foreign. “Why don’t you ask me directly, Noona?” it says, and you whirl around, wide-eyed, to face the newcomer.

This can’t possibly be Jeon Jungkook, is your first thought upon seeing the young man standing in the kitchen doorway. The Jungkook you knew in high school was a scrawny kid—all gangly limbs and a nose that was too big for his face. The Jungkook you knew wore oversized white t-shirts that made him look even younger than he was, a look that was only enhanced by round wire-rimmed glasses that always gave him a look of permanent astonishment. The Jungkook you knew was nowhere near this tall, and definitely not this broad.

But this Jungkook—this Jungkook takes up nearly the entire doorframe with his bulk. Dark eyes stare at you from beneath equally dark hair, his gaze unhindered by his old glasses. A cobalt blue shirt stretches tight over his chest, and you swallow when you notice just how much the buttons are straining to contain the muscle underneath. Black jeans and simple black sneakers complete his outfit, and the entire look is so jarringly different from what you’re used to that you are left momentarily speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. Vaguely, you wonder when he got his ears pierced.

And then Jungkook—or at least, the young man claiming to be Jungkook—takes three steps forward, his entire face melting into a crinkly-eyed grin. You catch a glimpse of the adorably prominent front teeth that always made him look like a rabbit, and that’s all it takes to break the spell.

“Jungkookie!” you exclaim, darting forward to greet him. “It’s been so long!”

“Hi, Noona,” he replies, his grin widening at your approach. In an instant, he has you wrapped up in an embrace, easily lifting you off the floor in a display of strength that would’ve had a lesser woman swooning. His hands curl firmly around your waist, and you have no choice but to wrap yours around his nape, squeaking in protest when he spins you in a full circle.

“Kookie!” you gasp, wriggling helplessly in his grasp and huffing when he only cackles. “Put me down!”

Obediently, Jungkook lowers you back to the ground. His hands linger on your waist until he’s certain that both your feet are planted firmly, and it’s only then that he pulls back to get a good look at your face. “You know I’d never drop you, right?” he asks innocently.

“As if I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” you retort with a laugh. “I’ve seen you scam your way out of detention with those pretty doe eyes. Don’t try me, kid.”

Jungkook snorts. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you. Plus I’m older than Jimin, y’know.”

“By a month!” your brother protests from the dining room, his blond head popping up from behind the vase of daisies serving as a centerpiece.

“Month and a half,” Jungkook stage-whispers to you, cupping a hand and bringing his mouth to your ear conspiratorially. His breath tickles your cheek, and you swat him away with a giggle that becomes a full-on laugh when Jimin lets out an offended cry and rises to his feet. Striding over, he pokes Jungkook squarely in the chest, his eyes narrowed.

“I invite you over to my house and this is the thanks I get?”

Your dad chooses that moment to interrupt from the living room. “Your house? When exactly did you start paying rent, Jimin?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “Are you taking his side?” he asks in disbelief, glaring at Jungkook when he starts laughing. “I’m your son!”

“I’m your father,” your dad replies.

“And I’m your mother,” your mom pipes up, brandishing a spoon. “And I’m telling all of you to get your butts over to that dining table in the next ten seconds, or no dinner for any of you.”

Your dad, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately fall silent, cowed by her proclamation. Grinning, you join your mother at the counter, grabbing a handful of spoons and accepting the platter of kimchi she hands over. “Direct as always, Mom.”

She laughs and picks up a bowl of rice. “To deal with men like them? You have to be.”

Food in hand, you make your way into the dining room. The table is set, the steaming food arranged neatly in the center, and you watch as your mother takes her seat next to Jimin and leaves you to sit beside Jungkook on the opposite side. Your father beams from his spot at the head of the table, glancing at each of you in turn before turning and giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Look at you kids, all sitting at the same table again.” He sighs, and you’re certain that he’s thinking back to the last time all of you were together—well over a year ago, at this point. “It’s a shame that your parents couldn’t join us, though, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, they told me to apologize on their behalf. They have tickets for the theatre tonight, and couldn’t get a refund on them.”

Your father laughs and waves the apology off. “I’m sure we’ll catch them next time,” he says. “Pretty hard to avoid each other when you live next door, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle. Then he turns to you, the silver hoops in his ears glinting in the light from the overhead chandelier. “I’m sure they’ll drop by soon to see you, Noona. Mom wants to hear all about Seoul—I think she’s worried about sending me so far away by myself.”

“Junghyun stayed in Busan for university, didn’t he?” your mom asks.

Jungkook nods. “Yep, he still lives downtown and everything. He wanted to come over tonight, but his work wouldn’t let him take the time off.”

Your mom sighs. “That’s such a shame. Is he at least attending your graduation?”

“He’s driving in the day after tomorrow for the ceremony,” Jungkook confirms. Then he pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His gaze flickers down to the plate of sweet potatoes on the other side of the table, and before he can even open his mouth, your mother is already passing him the plate. He thanks her with an embarrassed chuckle but digs into the food nonetheless, and everyone else takes it as a sign to follow suit. You’re in the middle of scooping rice into your bowl when Jimin speaks up again.

“So what’s it like living in Seoul?” he asks, his cheeks bulging with pork belly. “You have roommates, right?”

“Suitemates,” you correct. “But yeah, I live with three other people. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jennie are all great though, so it hasn’t been a problem.”

Jungkook pauses mid-chew to gape at you. “You live with guys?”

“My building’s co-ed,” you explain. “We all have separate bedrooms, but we share a common space and bathrooms.”

Your mother—on the lookout for any potential future grandchildren, as always—perks up. “Namjoon and Hoseok sound like nice boys. Are you friends?”

“Yes, Mom,” you sigh. “We’re friends. Just friends.” And then before she can ask about whether or not any other boys have caught your eye, you quickly turn back to your brother. “So, what’s your plan for next year? Are you and Jungkook living together?”

Jimin hums. “Yep, that’s the plan. Unless you want to live with us too, Noona.”

You laugh. “Why, so I can protect you from all the bullies like I did in elementary school?”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “More like so I can protect you from all the weird college guys. Who’s this Hoseok guy anyway? Do I need to beat him up?”

“Please don’t beat up Hobi,” you entreaty, giggling when he pretends to crack his knuckles. “Or Joon!” you add quickly when he remains undeterred and makes to stand up from the table to defend your honor. Balling up your napkin, you throw it at him, and both of you burst into hysterics when your makeshift weapon bounces off his forehead and straight into his glass of water. The rest of dinner passes in a haze of similarly playful antics and happy chatter, and by the time the last bowl is scraped clean, it feels as if you’d never even left.

“I’ll do the dishes,” you volunteer, standing up and gathering up the empty platters. Jungkook and Jimin are quick to jump to your aid, collecting any utensils that you missed, and you offer them a grateful smile as they follow you into the kitchen.

“Let me do the washing, Noona.” Jungkook rolls up the sleeves of his cobalt blue shirt to expose a familiar silver watch glinting on his left wrist—a watch that his father handed down to him when he was sixteen, and that had been worn by his grandfather before him. You still remember the day he’d first worn it to school, proudly displaying it even though the band was too loose around his narrow wrist.

He’s grown into it now, you realize. The watch no longer flops around like it used to, and sits snugly in place instead. Your eyes trace the silver buckle on the inside of his wrist before trailing up to follow the network of thin, branching veins in his forearm, admiring the smooth flex of muscle as he grabs a sponge from the wire rack hanging above the sink and squirts some dish soap onto the surface.

“I’ll dry,” Jimin chirps, selecting a towel and brandishing it. “Noona, do you want to help me? We’ll finish faster that way.”

Nodding, you pull another towel out from the drawer and rejoin the two boys at the sink. Jungkook washes quickly and efficiently, and you determinedly avoid staring at the way water trickles along the patchwork veins on his hands as he gives you bowl after bowl to dry.

It doesn’t take long for all the dishes to be washed and dried. The three of you take the time to put them back into the proper cabinets before bidding your parents a good night, heading out onto the back porch. Falling back into old routines feels like second nature, so you plop down onto the steps without hesitation and grin when Jungkook takes a seat beside you.

“Wait, I almost forgot!” Jimin exclaims, bouncing up from where he was beginning to sit down next to Jungkook. “I bought some beer earlier and left it in the trunk. Be right back!”

You watch your brother run off, his floppy blond hair a stark contrast with the deep blue evening sky. In seconds, he’s disappeared around the corner of the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone on the porch steps.

“Chim really hasn’t changed one bit,” you remark with a laugh, turning toward your dark-haired companion.

Jungkook chuckles. “The kid loves his alcohol, that’s for sure.”

“Please.” You elbow him in the ribs. “I know you’re just as bad as he is.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with another chuckle. “But come on, Noona, you can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a drink every now and then. What about all that college stress?”

You hum, leaning back on your hands and staring up at the sky where the full moon is just beginning to rise, surrounded by a smattering of stars peeking through the velvety darkness of night. “I never said that I didn’t enjoy a drink, or five.” Jungkook laughs at your remark, and you smile before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m glad Jimin got the beer, though. Maybe I’ll finally be able to stop stressing out about my internship.”

That sobers Jungkook up immediately, his eyes widening as he peers down at you and lays a gentle hand on your back. “Are you still worried? You already got the job, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly, thinking back to the job offer that you had accepted at the end of the semester. It had been difficult finding a company in your desired field that offered internships to first-year students, but with dogged persistence and a lot of luck, you’d managed to snag a summer position. It isn’t due to start for another three weeks, however, and while you’re grateful for the chance to visit your family, part of you also wishes that you didn’t have to wait such a long time. “I just have no idea what to expect, you know? The only jobs I’ve ever had were in retail and food service, and that was all ages ago. I don’t feel ready at all.”

A strong arm settles across your shoulders, and you look up to see Jungkook gazing down at you with something indiscernible sparkling in his deep brown eyes. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. “You know that, right? You always are. This won’t be any different.”

And you believe him. Every detail of his face is bathed in silvery moonlight—the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the little scar high on his cheekbone—and you wonder how you never realized how handsome he is before now. And maybe it’s the low, soothing timbre of his voice, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—with unspeakable tenderness and gentle affection glimmering in his irises—but you lean in before you can even realize what you’re doing. You don’t look away, and neither does he.

Jungkook’s gaze drops, trailing down the slope of your cheeks until it lands on the curve of your mouth. He hesitates for a split second, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows and sucks in a breath.

And then his lips are pressing against yours—soft and tentative and just a little bit chapped. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct, your body relaxing as he shifts and pulls you a little more firmly against him. Slowly, his arm finds its way to the curve of your waist and settles there. Your fingers curl around his nape, carding through his silky hair.

It’s only when Jungkook’s tongue darts out to run along the seam of your lips that reality comes crashing back down, your stomach plummeting down to somewhere around your toes as you wrench away from his embrace. “Kookie!” you gasp, your breathing labored. “We can’t!”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily entrancing you with the way the stars reflect in his gaze like glittering diamonds. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out for you again. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”

Squeaking, you bat his hands away. “Jungkook, no! We can’t! You’re Jimin’s best friend, and god, this is all kinds of weird, and—“

The dark-haired young man looks like he wants to protest more, but the sound of footsteps coming back around the house sends both of you scooting back to your original positions on the porch steps. Jimin appears two seconds later, plopping down beside Jungkook cheerfully and dropping a six-pack of beer at his feet.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as he pops open a bottle and hands it to you.

“Nothing,” you say immediately, accepting the proffered beer. The cool glass bottle is a welcome relief, and you hurriedly take a long sip when your mind unwillingly begins to wander back to just how warm and soft your dark-haired companion’s lips had been.

Jungkook is much slower to respond to Jimin’s question. His shoulders slump as he reaches down to grab a drink of his own, twisting the cap open viciously and taking a swig. “Yeah,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing at all.”

Luck must be on your side, because Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he grabs a beer for himself and flops backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes up at the night sky. “It’s nice out,” he remarks, looking utterly at ease.

You are anything but. Beside you, Jungkook is sipping pensively on his beer, and you are painfully aware of the heat radiating off his body. Jimin is still chattering away, rambling about whatever pops into his head, and you take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Jungkook. His face is cast in silvery luminescence from the moon, his mouth pulled down into a deep, contemplative frown—and you are once again forced to shake off thoughts of how nice it felt to have his mouth pressed against yours.

This is Jeon Jungkook, you tell yourself sternly. Friend, neighbor, and Jimin’s best friend in the entire universe. You kissed him, sure, but it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. And it won’t happen again.

You repeat that over and over, silently reciting it in your head like a mantra, until, at last, you finally start to believe it.

///

You’re in the middle of brewing a fresh pot of coffee after a lazy morning spent sleeping in when you spot Jungkook outside through the kitchen window. He’s standing in the yard in a sleeveless white tee, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as he thoughtfully regards the row of hedges that serves as the property line between your house and the Jeons’ house next door. In his other hand is a shovel, and you can’t help the way your gaze automatically traces his exposed biceps, admiring the way they flex when he finally selects a spot and begins digging.

“Is the coffee done yet, Noona?”

Jimin’s voice yanks your attention away from your gardening neighbor, your vision overtaken by a mess of fluffy blond bedhead as he sneaks into the space between you and the counter and obnoxiously cuts you off from the pot of fresh brew. “Hey!” you protest, but Jimin just gives you a cheeky wink before grabbing a mug and pouring out a generous helping of piping hot coffee. After a moment’s thought, he pours you a mug as well, handing it over with an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes, but accept the warm cup nonetheless. Following him into the living room, you make yourself comfortable on the couch as he flops down onto the carpeted floor and turns on the television. Idly, he begins flipping through the channels in search for something to watch, and you endure random snippets of the morning news, a cheesy soap opera, and a series of infomercials before sighing and rising to your feet again. “I’m getting some food. Want some toast, Chimchim?”

“Mmm. Sure.”

Slowly, you meander your way back into the kitchen. Your mother is standing at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee, and you smile as you walk up to join her. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, taking a careful sip of her drink. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log,” you reply with a grin. Grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter, you pull out a few slices and shove them in the toaster. “Do you want toast? I’m making some for me and Chimchim.”

“Just one slice for me,” she says, opening up the dish cabinet and pulling out three plates. Obligingly, you hand her one of the two freshly toasted slices and drop the other onto your plate. Popping some more bread into the toaster, you’re just about to grab the jam from the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Jimin yells from the living room. You hear the soft pad of his footsteps in the hallway and the low creak of the front door as it swings open—and then your brother is snorting out a laugh at whoever is on your doorstep. “Dude, why are you covered in dirt?”

You’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion as to who your guest is, and it’s confirmed when your brother’s question is answered.

“I’m helping Mom plant some hydrangeas out back,” Jungkook’s voice explains, his tall figure stepping into view a moment later. “Can you come help me lift the bushes?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.”

“Who knows if you would’ve answered?” Jungkook asks, laughing. “Knowing you, you’d just leave me on read. Besides—” and here he glances over at you, dark eyes glimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, “—I wouldn’t get to see two of my favorite ladies if I didn’t stop by.”

Jimin pretends to vomit at the line, but your mother laughs delightedly as Jungkook takes another step into the foyer and flashes her a winning grin. “Good morning, Jungkookie,” she greets him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? {Name} was just making some toast, and we’ve got fresh coffee.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides over to you again, taking in the flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours. “I ate already, but coffee sounds wonderful.”

You are beginning to feel increasingly vulnerable as Jungkook continues looking unblinkingly in your direction. Thankfully, your mom pipes up, drawing his attention away with a decisive clap of her hands. “Coffee it is, then!” she says brightly. “{Name}, why don’t you grab Jungkook a cup?”

Hurriedly, you turn toward the cabinets, trying your best to ignore Jungkook as he chats comfortably with your family. Your success is limited though, and you can feel his penetrating stare lingering on your back even as you fetch a mug and fill it up to the brim.

“Noona.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, much closer than you remember him being. “Can I have some cream and sugar, please?”

Somehow, you manage to reply without stammering. “Yeah. Sure.” Dumping some of the excess coffee into the sink, you spoon in some sugar and give it a quick stir. Just as you turn toward the refrigerator for the cream, a strong arm cuts you off.

“I got it, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs, backing you up against the counter as he tucks the little white carton into your outstretched hand. His proximity has your heart skipping several beats, and you almost drop the carton entirely when he speaks again in a husky whisper, his mouth at the shell of your ear. “Just a little bit, please.”

You are acutely aware of the heat radiating off of his body, warming your back and flushing your cheeks. Quietly, you open up the carton and pour a splash of cream into his mug, the swirl of white melding with the dark liquid within. “Is—is that enough?”

Jungkook reaches around you to open up the silverware drawer, grabbing a spoon and giving the coffee a stir. “That’s perfect,” he purrs, his hot breath stirring gooseflesh on the back of your neck.

This close to him, it’s easy to forget where you are and who you’re with, but you somehow manage to regain enough of your senses to wrench away and reclaim your personal space. “G-great,” you stammer, picking up the mug and shoving it into his hands, determinedly ignoring the ripple of his arm muscles as he accepts. “Um. Chim. Did you want your toast?”

“Yes, please,” Jimin says, barely glancing up from where he’s made himself comfortable at the kitchen island, idly playing on his phone.

Your mother pokes her head around the doorframe of the adjoining laundry room, where she has clearly started a fresh load if the sound of splashing water is anything to go by. “Don’t make your sister do all of the work, Jimin. Go help her—it’s your food, isn’t it?”

Obligingly, Jimin hops off the stool and grabs his favorite jar of jam, joining you at the counter. He takes the slice of toast you offer him, slathering it messily and taking an enormous bite. “Thanks for breakfast, Noona,” he says, blowing you an exaggerated kiss. “Ready, Kook?”

Jungkook raises his mug of coffee in acknowledgement. “Ready.” Then his gaze flickers back to you, twinkling with silent mirth. “And Noona—thanks. The coffee’s delicious.”

You can’t find the words to answer. Silently, you watch him disappear out the front door with Jimin, following his dark head of hair as it bobs across the yard. His biceps flex as he gestures for Jimin to help him lift a hydrangea bush, and your eyes linger on the stretch of defined muscle, tracing the network of prominent veins running along his forearm before your brain can caution you to stop. It’s almost as if you’re on autopilot, and by the time you zone back in, your gaze has wandered too far south for your liking. Letting out an audible groan, you tear your eyes away from the mouthwatering view of his thick thighs and return to your now-cold breakfast. And you don’t think about Jeon Jungkook again, pushing the image of his broad shoulders and handsome face into the darkest recesses of your mind.

Or at least, that was the plan. Jimin comes back inside after about an hour, tracking mud through half the house before your mother reprimands him and orders him to take off his shoes. Jungkook, thankfully, chose to return to his own home as well, and you immediately banish the thought of him showering off all the sweat and grime that has no doubt accumulated on his toned body. You shove away the mental image of water slicking his golden skin and collecting in the hollows of his collarbones, and when your mind conjures up pictures of what lies south of his waist, you resist the urge to scream into the pile of freshly laundered pillowcases your mom presses into your arms.

You’re just about to head upstairs to scream into a real pillow when there’s another knock on your front door—a familiar cadence that you heard just this morning. And that’s when you realize—to your complete and utter dismay—that Jeon Jungkook isn’t done tormenting you yet. Not by a long shot.

“You again? You do realize that this isn’t your house, right?” you ask, swinging open the door and thanking whatever gods may be out there that your voice remains steady. Then you raise a brow, glancing down at his change in attire. “Wait, why are you wearing a suit?”

Jungkook gives you an infuriatingly impish grin. “Do I need a reason?” His hair is still damp from the shower, a stray lock flopping down across his forehead, and as you watch him brush it away absently, you notice that he’s holding something in his free hand.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously.

Footsteps sound from behind you, interrupting before he can answer. “Jungkookie?” your mother asks, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for Jimin again?”

Jungkook flashes her a winning smile and raises the garment bag he’s holding. “No, I was actually hoping to get some advice. I’ve got my suit ready to go for graduation tomorrow, but I can’t decide which shirt looks better. My mom likes how I look in blue, but I wanted a second opinion from you and Noona.”

To your utter annoyance, your mother coos and gestures for him to come in. He’s already wearing the blue shirt—a pale periwinkle one that reminds you of a cloudless day—but your mom takes the garment bag out of his hand and unzips it to look inside. “What are your options?” she asks.

“Blue, red, and yellow,” Jungkook replies, pulling each shirt off its hanger and holding them up to his chest in turn. “What do you think, Mrs. Park?”

“The blue is lovely,” your mom says thoughtfully, straightening his collar. “But this shade of yellow looks nice too. A handsome young man like you—you really can’t go wrong with any of these.”

Jungkook grins and scratches behind his ear, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Park.”

The dryer chooses that moment to beep shrilly, signalling the end of its cycle, and your mother darts off to tend to it, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the living room.

“What about you, Noona?” Jungkook asks, just as you’re about to try and sneak out under the pretense of helping with the laundry. “Which shirt do you like?”

“Does it matter?” you ask. “It’s just going to be hidden underneath those horrible black trash bags they make you wear.”

He laughs. “Sure, but what about before and after? You know my mom’s going to want to take a million pictures.”

“Can’t argue there.” Resigning yourself to your fate, you put your stack of clean pillowcases down on the arm of the couch and cross your arms over your chest. “Show them to me again?”

Jungkook raises the yellow shirt, holding it up for a few seconds before swapping it out for the red. “Well?”

You pause to consider it. “Red,” you decide after some deliberation, pointing at your choice. It’s a deep crimson color—almost burgundy—and you rub the silky material between your fingertips before taking it and replacing it onto its hanger. Jungkook joins you with the yellow shirt, his arm bumping into yours as you both reach for the garment bag, and even though you flinch away from the contact, Jungkook doesn’t let you stray very far. A strong hand clamps down around your forearm, and you inhale sharply when he backs you up against the wall and cages you in with his solid body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook looks thoroughly unfazed as he blinks a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook—” you hiss, struggling to see over his shoulder if your mother has returned. “Get off me.”

“Come on, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. Ever since you got back—ever since we kissed—”

“A mistake,” you say, cutting him off with a finger to the lips and glancing around furtively to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “That was a mistake.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Was it? Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too. You kissed back, didn’t you?”

“Y-you—“ You clear your throat and try again, cringing at how shaky your voice comes out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Jungkook simply laughs. “Don’t I?” He inches closer until you’re chest to chest, his gaze darkening as it flickers downward and lands on your mouth. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically in your ribcage. It would be so easy to push to your tiptoes and close the distance between your lips.

“God,” you huff. “You’re so—”

His other eyebrow rises to join the first. “I’m so—?” he presses, tilting his head as he awaits your answer. The loose lock of hair flops across his forehead again, and this time you cannot stop yourself from reaching up to brush it away.

“Shut up,” you hiss as your fingers drop down to wind into the soft hair at his nape. “Just shut up.”

And then you’re kissing him—really, really kissing him—pulling him down to your level and sliding your free hand up his infuriatingly toned chest.

“See?” Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smug smirk as he pulls away slightly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “I knew you were into me.”

“God, do you ever stop talking?” you retort, pushing him back until you have enough room to switch your positions and maneuver him against the wall.

Jungkook lets you pin him in place, blinking down at you lazily with his mouth still stretched into that maddening little smirk. “Only if you make me, Noona.” His hands slide down your sides, coming to a stop at your hips in an ironclad grip. “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

So you do. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you crush your mouth to his, and when his lips part you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook—still smirking—relaxes and lets you take control of the kiss, but his hands continue to wander. Before you know it, he’s already snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing warm circles into the soft skin of your waist. His lips move languidly against yours, his tongue careful and gentle in its exploration of your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you closer. You’re pressed flush against him by this point, pinning him between your body and the wall, and neither you nor he have any intent to move anytime soon.

The sudden slamming of a door jerks you back to reality. Here you are, standing in the living room where anyone could walk by and see you kissing your brother’s best friend—again. Shakily, you pull away from Jungkook with your heart in your throat, putting as much space as you possibly can between your bodies. “Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, his lips swollen and red. “{Name}—” he tries, but you shake your head and cut him off before he can continue.

“You need to leave,” you whisper.

“But—”

“Please,” you say, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Please, Jungkook. Just leave.”

Jungkook swallows, hard. And then, much to your relief, he picks up his garment bag, shoving both shirts back inside. “Okay,” he rasps. “I’ll go.”

Elsewhere in the house, you can hear your mother calling for Jimin. Your father is watching TV in his study—you can hear the low hum of voices and a laugh track. Your entire family is here.

And yet, you’ve never felt more alone as you watch Jungkook stride down the hallway and disappear out the front door.

///

Returning to your high school is odd. The hallways and classrooms are familiar, but they all seem smaller than you remember. And were the ceilings always this short? You aren’t sure. What you are sure of, however, is that Jungkook and his family are currently headed your way, with beaming smiles on their faces and colorful flower bouquets in hand. Greetings and congratulations are exchanged, and it isn’t long before you are face-to-face with Jungkook himself, a tight smile on his face as he meets your eyes.

“Hi, Noona.”

“Hi,” you reply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Now that the graduation ceremony is over, he’s taken off his robe to reveal the red shirt underneath. The silky material drapes over his torso and clings to the toned planes of his chest, and your fingers itch to run across the defined muscle. Swallowing down the urge, you instead gesture toward his parents, who are engaged in deep conversation with your own parents while Jimin chats with Junghyun off to the side. “I guess we’re all getting dinner after this, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, at that one place downtow—“

“Jungkook! Jimin!” A feminine voice interrupts him mid-sentence, and you watch in surprise as both your brother and Jungkook are suddenly engulfed in a massive tangle of limbs. Immediately, you recognize Jisoo and Lisa—two girls you considered casual friends from your own high school days. The third girl in the trio of friends—Chaeyoung—is noticeably absent, but you don’t get a chance to question her whereabouts. “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!” Lisa is saying excitedly, still clutching tightly onto Jungkook’s shoulders. She’s pressed flush against him, her chest molded to his, and the sudden rush of jealousy that takes root in the pit of your stomach takes you aback with its ferocity.

Calm the fuck down, you instruct your pounding heart. Stop it, right now.

“Has Tae told you about the party tomorrow night?” Jisoo asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You guys better be there—and that means you, too, {Name}! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you!”

You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. It’ll be nice to finally catch up.” Unwillingly, your gaze flickers back over to Jungkook and Lisa, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression when you notice the casual way his arm drapes over her shoulders.

Your attempts are in vain. Jungkook notices your stare immediately, a massive shit-eating grin spreading across his face. One eyebrow rises in a silent taunt, and you swear his grip around her tightens. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you instead turn back to Jisoo, finally voicing the question that’s on your mind.

“So, where’s Chaeyoung? I saw her during the ceremony, but haven’t seen her around since. She didn’t leave already, did she?”

“No, she’s still here,” Jisoo answers, exchanging a look with Lisa. Curiosity piqued, you watch her gaze dart over to Jungkook for a split second before returning to you, a tiny smile gracing her face once more. “She’s with her family right now, but she’ll be at the party tomorrow.”

“I’ll congratulate her there, then,” you say, returning her smile with one of her own. Silently, you wonder at the uneasy glance the two girls had exchanged, but decide not to press it, chalking it up to some senior year drama that isn’t any of your business.

“Well, we should probably get going,” Jisoo says after another beat. “We’re off to dinner.”

“We should be on our way too,” you agree, glancing over at where your parents are still chatting, having absorbed Junghyun into their conversation at some point. Bidding the two girls goodbye, you sidle over to join them, trying your best to subtly nudge your parents toward the door.

After what feels like an eternity, your parents finally decide that they’re ready for a change in scenery. The drive to the restaurant is blessedly short, much to the relief of your grumbling stomach, and you are more than grateful for the brief reprieve from Jungkook and his knowing smirk. It doesn’t last long, however, and you mentally brace yourself when you spot the Jeons’ car in the parking lot of the restaurant. Upon entering, you are quickly ushered to your reserved table where the Jeons are already waiting, and somehow in the shuffle you end up right between Jungkook and Junghyun, the former’s face dissolving into a satisfied grin as he watches you sit down.

Then he turns to Jimin, who’s seated on his other side. “Hey, man.”

You bristle at the blatant way he’s ignoring you. But two can play at that game, so you turn to Junghyun with a winning smile, laying a hand on his shoulder for good measure. The older Jeon brother is four years your senior, but despite the age difference, you’ve always gotten along well.

“Junghyun, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”

The elder Jeon grins and leans in to give you a hug. “Good, good—work’s insane, but that’s old news. What about you? How’s school going so far?”

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, hot and heavy. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle under the weight of it, and you resist the urge to shiver. Instead, you give Junghyun’s bicep a final squeeze before pulling away, steadfastly ignoring the way Jungkook lets out a disgruntled hiss from between his teeth.

“School is good,” you tell Junghyun. “I’m trying to get all my general requirements out of the way early, so my first semester wasn’t very interesting. I took some more focused classes in the second, though, which made things infinitely better.”

The elder Jeon laughs. “Guess that means you’re on the right track then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you reply, laughing right along with him.

The server stops by to take drink orders, and your parents take it upon themselves to order food for the table as well. You continue chatting amicably with Junghyun as the server returns with a tray of water, sodas, and soju; beside you, Jungkook does the same with Jimin. The only break in conversation comes when the server—a pretty girl with a chirpy voice and a nametag that reads ‘Mina’—leans over to set a glass of Coke down in front of Jungkook. He thanks her with a crooked smirk and a low purr of gratitude that has her cheeks flushing pink, and it’s all you can do not to gape at him like a fish. The flirtatious quirk of his lips, the seductive tone—it all comes far too naturally to him, and you wonder for a moment just where the old Jungkook has gone. The Jungkook you used to know stammered every time he had to talk to an unfamiliar girl, and had trouble looking even you in the eye despite having known you since grade school.

But now, he’s nowhere to be found. The young man sitting beside you remains as calm as can be, shifting his body toward Mina so that he can request a straw.

“Of course, here you go!” Mina’s gaze lingers on his hand as he accepts the proffered straw, eyes widening when his fingers brush against hers lightly.

“Fast service,” Jungkook remarks, his voice dipping into a low, indolent drawl. “I like that.”

Mina giggles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She’s clearly about to respond to him—flirt right back, undoubtedly—but your father stands up and taps his glass with a spoon before she can open her mouth. “I want to make a toast,” he says, and you send him a silent, heartfelt thank you when Mina wisely chooses to make herself scarce. “Congratulations to Jungkook and Jimin, our two rad grads!”

An audible groan rises up from your side of the table, where Jimin has buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Dad.”

“What?” your father asks innocently. “I really think you’re rad, grad!”

Jimin groans again, muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”

Laughter all around. More toasts are given, and the bottles of soju scattered around the table slowly dwindle down to their last dregs. Junghyun picks up the one closest to him and fills up your glass for the fourth time, drawing a protesting whine from your lips as you try to cut him off. “Wait, that’s not fair! Pour some for yourself too!”

“Relax, we can always order more,” Junghyun says with a laugh, topping off your glass before glancing around to find Mina. Much to your irritation, she’s already headed your way, bearing loaded platters of meat and vegetables and wearing a bright smile that seems to only be directed to Jungkook.

“I hope you’re all hungry!” she chirps, coming to a stop between you and the subject of her affections. You swear she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to the table, her cheerful facade back in place as she smiles at Jungkook. “Where did you want me to put the meat?”

“Anywhere it’ll fit,” Jungkook tells her with a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice soft enough so that only you and she can hear.

Mina cannot hide her answering smile. Likewise, you cannot hide the way your nostrils flare, throat bobbing as you swallow down the ugly feelings bubbling up in your chest. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze roving across your skin, but you refuse to look at him, stubbornly facing the front as Mina distributes food around the table. As soon as she’s departed again—her fingers brushing across the back of Jungkook’s chair in the process—you’re up and out of your seat, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

“Restroom,” you say shortly by way of explanation. It’s thankfully empty when you arrive, and you immediately make a beeline toward the sink to splash some cold water on your cheeks.

It’s absurd—this snaking jealousy coiling in your belly and winding up between the slats of your ribcage. Straightening up, you give your reflection in the mirror a stern look, silently willing the feelings in your chest to abate. Gradually, your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, your cheeks cooling, and after waiting another two minutes, you decide that it’s been long enough. Drying off your hands, you exit the restroom and wind your way back to the table, keeping your pace leisurely even when Jungkook looks up and catches your eye. His expression is unreadable, and you valiantly ignore his burning gaze as you take a seat.

“How is everything?” you ask Junghyun, picking up a spoon and piling your plate with food from the nearest platter.

Junghyun pauses mid-bite to answer. His mouth opens, but you don’t catch his answer because there is a sudden, heavy weight on your knee. A warm palm caresses the skin exposed by the hem of your dress, slow and sensual and deliberate. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but no sound escapes. The rest of the table’s occupants fade away into the background, conversations and laughter dulling into a low drone. Beside you, Junghyun is still talking, but all you can hear is blood rushing through your ears.

And on your other side, Jungkook is smirking.

The bastard.

Gentle fingertips skim along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your entire body stiffens, but Jungkook refuses to relent. He’s still chatting with Jimin, chuckling at a joke you didn’t hear, and you wonder how he can remain so calm when you are anything but. Your heart takes off in a sprint, clattering wildly against your ribcage, and for a few moments you are absolutely positive that everyone at the table can hear. Any moment, one of your parents will look over and see how wide your eyes are and how warm your cheeks feel. Any moment, Jimin will look down and see his best friend’s arm snaking beneath the table and realize what’s happening.

And then Jungkook squeezes your thigh, and all thought flies out of your head, dissipating like fog in the sunlight. He’s growing increasingly bold, his fingers trailing up until he can trace the hem of your dress, teasing at the soft material. Your breath hitches in your throat, and Jungkook’s smirk widens. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide his smugness behind his soju glass, and for a moment you’re tempted to throw his drink in his face.

But more than that—more than anything else right now—you want him to continue touching you.

He’s sliding beneath your dress now, inching down to the delicate skin of your inner thigh and tracing nonsensical patterns there. You grip the edge of the table as he trails closer and closer to the lace of your panties, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. It’s a wonder no one has noticed your flustered state yet, and you cast concerned glances at Junghyun and Jimin before Jungkook notices your inattention. Punishingly, he slides a single finger into your panties, snapping the lace against your skin and covering the sound with a cough that he buries in his elbow. He can’t hide the way you jolt in your seat though, your knee thudding against the table. Junghyun gives you a worried look, laying a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re okay, and you hurriedly nod. And underneath the table, Jungkook resumes his ministrations, languorous and soft and deliberately avoiding the place you need him most, as if he has all the time in the world.

There’s a growing damp spot between your legs. You can feel it seeping through the cottony material of your panties, sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Jungkook’s touch is whisper-soft, caressing along your thigh until your skin is tingling, and it’s all you can do to swallow down the whimper that’s bubbling up in your throat. He’s thoroughly enjoying this—you can tell—and you’re certain he can feel the way you tense up when he suddenly drags a single finger up your clothed slit. A low hiss escapes your parted lips, and in an instant, all eyes are on you.

“Noona?” Jimin asks curiously. “Something wrong?”

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for an excuse. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. The, uh, sauce was just spicier than I was expecting it to be.”

You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate in minutes, but no one seems to notice your obvious lie. Conversation resumes, and you determinedly pick up your spoon again, intent on getting something more substantial in your belly than the fluttering butterflies that have taken up residence there.

“You sure you want to eat that, Noona?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears—a low, dulcet purr that sends electricity shooting down your spine. “You should probably drink some water to cool down.”

And before you can answer—before you even manage to reach for your water glass—he’s slipped his hand into your panties, the warm pad of his thumb pressing experimentally against your clit. The slight pressure has you gasping, your heart pounding hard enough to leap out of your chest as you drop your spoon. Your hands drop down to your lap—one gripping the edge of your chair while the other finds its way around Jungkook’s wrist, and you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to stop him or spur him on. His arm muscles flex underneath your fingertips, and that’s all the warning you get before he angles his hand, a lone finger sinking inside your drenched entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” You can’t stop the strangled curse that escapes your lips, an airy hiss from behind clenched teeth. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, but it doesn’t seem to dissuade him at all as he begins a leisurely pace, sinking deeper into your cunt with each thrust.

Luckily, no one hears your whimper. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back the sounds threatening to spill out and instead focus on maintaining as neutral an expression as you can muster. Beneath the table, Jungkook remains relentless. Even when your mother looks over and addresses him directly, he doesn’t cease his ministrations, keeping both his tone and his pace even as he responds.

“Jungkookie, you’ve barely touched your pork belly. Are you full already?”

“Stuffed,” Jungkook replies smoothly. He punctuates the word by adding a second finger, and you almost bang your knee on the table again, your eyes going wide at his audacity.

Your mother pushes the platter of meat closer to him anyway. “No need to be polite, honey. Here, eat up.”

Obligingly, Jungkook picks out a few pieces with his free hand and piles them on his plate. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says as he brings some to his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Satisfied, your mother turns her attention elsewhere. Jungkook returns his to you, and you almost groan aloud when his thumb brushes against your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud before he sheathes both fingers inside you once more. There’s a growing heat coiling in the pit of your stomach by this point, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire. Your body is screaming for release, and Jungkook seems more than eager to give it to you. He’s freed his wrist from your grip, leaving you to clutch helplessly at the table as he angles his fingers upward. No doubt he’s searching for the spot that will have you seeing stars, and you know he’s found it when a sudden burst of pleasure spikes through you. Your mouth falls lax, and Jungkook grins, thoroughly satisfied.

There’s something building inside you, something that has your tummy tensing and your toes curling in your shoes. Jungkook’s fingers dig deep, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust, and it takes every remaining ounce of your self-control to resist the urge to rock your hips into his hand. A bit more of that delicious friction, and you’ll be falling over the edge. You know it, and so does Jungkook if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

And then a voice is pulling you back to reality, a warm hand settling on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact, your startled gaze flying up to Junghyun’s, and balk when you see him staring at you with equal parts amusement and concern.

“I—what?” you stammer. “Did… did you say something?”

Beneath the table, you feel Jungkook’s fingers retreat, leaving you empty and aching for release. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook wipe his glistening hand on his napkin, a frown that can only be described as petulant settling onto his face.

“Whoa, relax!” Junghyun drags your attention back to him, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m driving back into the city tonight.”

“Oh!” It takes you a few seconds to process his words. “Right, yeah. Have a safe drive back. It was good to see you.”

“Ditto,” he replies, flashing you a warm grin. “But hey, are you all right? You’ve been a little weird the whole night. Was it the food?”

Gratefully, you seize upon the excuse. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe something isn’t sitting quite right in my stomach, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He nods and leans in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You too. Bye, Junghyun.”

With the elder Jeon brother’s departure, everyone else quickly decides that it’s time to disperse as well. You adamantly refuse to look in Jungkook’s direction as your parents fight over the bill, focusing your goodbyes on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon even when he glances your way with a knowing little smirk and a soft murmur of, “Bye, Noona.”

You can’t look at him. Not when every movement reminds you just how damp your panties are, your core begging for relief. Not when he’s waggling his fingers in farewell—the gesture anything but innocent. “Bye,” you warble weakly, before fleeing to the car.

The memory of his fingers burns fresh in your mind later that night as you lie in bed, your hand stuffed down your panties and working furiously to find that sweet, sweet relief.

[lgbtqlegends]

okay so also the other night while i was thinking abt what i wrote in the other post (here), i was also thinking abt autistic!sara (which is smth that came about a while ago when me and this account's other mod (mod chocolate) were talking a lot about neurodivergent!legends). and this follows along with team movie nights, bc idk,, my brain was just stuck on team movie nights the other night. but anyway:

so like,, the team has regularly scheduled movie nights bc it's just smth they do n literally none of them ever miss a movie night pretty much no matter what's going on bc they just,,, don't. but that doesn't mean that movie nights are always such a super great time for everyone

so like obvi some of the movie nights end up being on sara's bad days like,, days where it's just,, oh boy sensory overload big time w o w,,, n so everything on those days is just a little bit,, too much. n everyone else like,, "y'know we can always reschedule", but sara is, of course, Stubborn n she just,,, refuses to sit movie night out, or to push it to a different day. so like the stubborn dummy she is she just sits there n deals with it even though it's all too bright n too loud n just,, too everything. so she kinda just sits there n doesn't even bother trying to pay attention to the movie n she's got a headache/migraine coming on n she can't really relax either

ray and ava usually notice these things since they're also autistic. and gideon notices too bc,, well bc she's gideon. n so gideon, w/o being asked, takes care of all the technological/electronic things that she can. like she turns the lights down super low (almost completely off) n she turns the brightness of the TV down n she turns the volume down n things like that. most of the legends don't even notice bc most of them at some point or another have needed or asked for some kind of accommodation like that

ray and ava take care of anything else that they can do to make sara more comfortable (especially since it prob wouldn't be like,,, super uncommon for one of the 3 of them to be struggling w/ sensory overload, n whenever one of them is, the other 2 do what they can to make it a little more bearable). so like they make sure she has enough space n she's not crowded. n ava probably quickly goes n grabs sara an oversized hoodie n the shark plush she got her for her birthday bc she knows it like,, helps make some things more comfortable for her since it's like a comfort item for her. they end up all sitting on the couch, with ava on one end n ray on the other end n sara in between them but like,,, there's enough room that it's comfortable n not suffocating for her

at one point everything is still kinda just,,, too much but sara is still being Stubborn n refusing to just like,,, go sit somewhere quieter for a bit. but like,,, she kinda seems like she's about to like,,, shut down so ava n ray decide to try n quietly get her to go with them to a different room like,, the library or the captain's office or smth. n sara eventually caves n decides that yeah it's probably best if she just,,, chills somewhere else for a little bit. they all go to the captain's office (n everyone notices them get up n go but no one says anything or draws attention to it bc it's just,, not smth you do y'know?). sara immediately curls up in her favourite armchair n it takes a couple minutes but eventually she feels like she can breathe a little better n she's not as overwhelmed by everything. ava n ray sit on a couch/other armchairs or w/e n just sit with her for a while n they all just chill together for a bit

and also!! kinda separate from the above ^^ but!! the 3 of them (ray, ava n sara) also def have their own movie night one time n they also invite felicity n kara n they all watch the movie called The Reason I Jump (which from what i've read is a movie abt autism n like,, general autistic experience like,, through the eyes of autistic people). they're all super excited abt watching it n they vibe super hard w/ it n they have a great time. like they pick felicity n kara up from earth n then commandeer the rec room n all crowd around w/ a shit ton of pillows n blankets n beebos n other plushies (bc kara, felicity n ray absolutely Love plushies n soft things. ava n sara like them too just not quite to the extent that kara, felicity n ray do). they're also just in like,,, super comfy clothes like pjs or smth or they're in super cool animal/character onesies (which was also prob caused by kara or felicity,, or ray,, probably mostly kara though bc she Would)

hope y'all enjoyed these past 2 team movie night posts! also we have other headcanons abt neurodivergent!legends so let us know if u wanna see more!

[cloudywriter]

vanilla pudding cups - 2

~~~

A/N: hey guys, sorry i changed the name but i really hated the first one, it didn’t really fit. in a few chapters you’ll get the new title, but anyway i like it much better! im sorry if this chapter isn’t the best, i kinda pumped it out bc y’all were liking it & i like making people happy ya know, enjoy luvs

masterlist & AO3

~~~

Feyre woke up with a surprising amount of energy, usually she felt fatigued and spent most of her days lounging in her bed with earbuds in and a sketchbook laying in her lap. She decided she would use this new found energy to tape up her accumulating pile of various sketches she wanted up on her wall.

She threw on a pair of loose, grey sweatpants and white t-shirt, stained with her attempts at using charcoal, soon setting out on her voyage to acquire a ladder.

Surprisingly, it was an easy task. All she had to do was sweet talk the maintenance guy a little bit, throw in the whole I have cancer and she had a ladder leaning against her wall in no time. 

--

Rhys, however, had a less pleasant start to the day. Alis had let herself in that morning with a plate in one hand and the same clipboard in another. 

She informed him that unfortunately his day would consist mostly of testing and scans to determine just how bad it was. She left Rhysand to get ready and eat his breakfast of rubbery, bland tasting eggs and one of those nasty little plastic cups of mixed fruit. 

As the day went on, Rhys lost count of how many needles punctured his skin and how many cups of contrast solution he had to gulp for his scans.

Finally, he fell back into bed later in the evening feeling drained, though he had barely lifted a finger. But the mass amount of poking and prodding he endured only cemented in his mind that he was truly right back where he started a year ago. The realization was mind-numbing. 

He hadn’t even called Mor, Cassian, Az, or Amren to ask for their support. He didn’t feel like he had had the time to truly mourn the life that had become his over the last few months, the life he was losing. He needed a moment, when he got a moment he would let himself fall apart. For only a moment before he would have to put back on the mask of the Rhys his family had come to know. The Rhys that wasn’t afraid of death, the Rhys that still had faith that he could make it, that this new battle wasn’t a lost cause.

In truth, Rhysand was terrified of the idea of death, of leaving them behind. To think of the lives they would live without him was like a punch to the stomach, the kind that leaves you sprawled on the ground struggling to suck in air. 

Just as his mask began to crack, just as the tears began to prick his eyes, as the sinking feeling in his stomach intensified, and the air felt heavy, too thick to breathe properly, the faint sound of a violin captured his attention. It was a small tether keeping him anchored to reality and he felt the pull. 

Before he could fully comprehend what he was doing, he had slipped out of his door and was outside of another; the one that was undoubtedly the source of the violin. 

It felt as if he was watching himself in a dream as he pushed open the door. 

And there she was.

A nostalgic feeling as if he were reliving a fever dream took root. A girl was sitting atop a metal ladder. The setting sun sent light streaming in through the floor to ceiling window, illuminating her; her long, honey-colored hair was glowing gold. Her skin was pale, without any hint of a tan but her arms were dotted with faint freckles as if she had once spent all of her days basking in the sun. Strips of tape lined her fingers and she held the dispenser between her teeth, her free hand holding a piece of paper to the wall. 

Rhys found himself staring at her rather than making his presence known. The combined sound of soothing classic music emitting from a laptop on the bed and her sun-lit silhouette had him mesmerized. She honestly looked like an angel in the flesh, if angels wore sweat pants and oversized, charcoal stained t-shirts that is.

As soon as Rhys started to regain his wits a screech came from behind him. 

“FEYRE ARCHERON, GET DOWN FROM THERE!”

Rhys and the girl, Feyre, both spun to face Nurse Alis who stood in the threshold. 

He heard the ladder groan behind him, the patter of bare-feet on tile, and the warmth of a body came to rest next to him. 

His head pivoted to look at her to find she was already examining him herself. 

She looked him up and down then met his gaze. Her eyes were vivid, so blue with a ring of grey around the pupil and they were so full of life. The same soft freckles that decorated her arms danced across the bridge of her nose. Her left cheek had a smear of charcoal across it. A small smile came to her lips as their eyes meet. He thought she really was an angel.

“Feyre, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She broke eye contact, “I’m hanging up some of my sketches.” 

“Using a ladder? Alone? You could fall and crack your head open! And I’m your assigned nurse! They’d blame me and then I’d have to scrap your brains off the floor while looking for a new job!” Alis cried, eyes wide. 

“I guess that sounds like a less than pleasant afternoon for you,” Feyre considered.

“Uh huh, less than pleasant. Where the hell did you even get a whole ladder?”

Feyre shrugged, “Tarquin, the maintenance guy, and I are pretty cool.”

Alis rolled her eyes. “You guilt-tripped him with the cancer card.”

“Works every time,” Feyre looked satisfied with herself. 

“Yeah, well, next time guilt him into supervising you too.”

As their short exchange came to a close, Alis’s face lit up, “I see you met our newest resident, Rhysand.”

Feyre gave me another glance. “If you count meeting as found him staring at me then sure.”

Rhysand felt his cheeks and neck heat as the embarrassment that that is literally what he did set in. 

“Sorry,” he began to sputter, “I-I heard the music and just ended up in here, I’m sorry, I swear I wasn’t trying to be a creep.”

Feyre gave him a playful smile and held out her hand.

Rhys hesitated only a moment before taking her smaller hand into his. 

Instead of usual, mundane introductions, Feyre ripped off the bandaid. 

“So, you’re dying too?”

Rhysand’s stomach didn’t drop as he heard the raw words, he felt weirdly at peace in her presence.

“That’s what they tell me.”

Alis cleared her throat, “I hate to interrupt this heart-warming exchange but I was actually here to grab Rhysand for a moment.” 

Feyre tore her gaze from Rhys. “Oh, okay,” her shoulders slumped a microscopic amount. 

Quickly, Rhysand found himself being led down the hallway, the calm aura dissipating. He wasn’t fully listening as Alis explained that they needed to draw a little more blood, his mind just kept wondering back to you know who.

He tried to focus his attention to his hands as he always did when getting blood drawn when he noticed: a smear of charcoal had been left across palm.

His lips tugged up at the corners ever so slightly. 

~~~

hope this is alright! kinda cliche but what are you gonna do? also leave a reply if you wanna be tagged in updates i think that’s a thing people do lol.

[kangtaebins]

Weird Asks That Say A Lot

I said I was going to just answer all of these bc of boredom,, and so here I am

1. Coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Teacups are aesthetically pleasing idc what anyone says

2. Chocolate bars or lollipops? Lollipops

3. Bubblegum or cotton candy? Cotton candy supremacy

4. How did your elementary school teachers describe you? I was told that I was a leader a lot, and was told that I was very intelligent. Ah yes, I suffered from gifted kid burn out in high school-

5. Do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? Look, plastic cups are the best. Specifically the ones with the lids and reusable straws

6. Pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? It truly depends on the day bc some days I would say goth and other days I’d say grunge, but most days- pastel

7. Earbuds or headphones? Earbuds

8. Movies or TV shows? TV shows bc- idk actually I’m just not a movie person

9. Favorite smell in the summer? I have a weird obsession with the smell of cheap sunscreen and I have no clue why

10. Game you were best at in p.e.? I hated gym in high school and rarely participated despite the teacher being irritated with me (truly she gave up after a few months bc I really did not care at all) HOWEVER- I went to town in volleyball and still enjoy playing volleyball v much

11. What do you have for breakfast on an average day? I don’t eat breakfast often,,, 

12. Name of your favorite playlist? Probably my Navy or Indigo playlist

13. Lanyard or key ring? Key ring 

14. Favorite non-chocolate candy? Anything green apple!!!

15. Favorite book you read as a school assignment? I actually genuinely enjoyed Romeo And Juliet tbh

16. Most comfortable position to sit in? I always curl up in a ball on the couch, but in a chair I manspread ngl

17. Most frequently worn pair of shoes? Nike slides <//3

18. Ideal weather? Between 50-70 degrees, sunny but not warm, being able to wear a hoodie and not be hot or cold

19. Sleeping position? I usually either sleep on my left side or on my stomach (my back once in a while when it’s hurting bc I’m a hag)

20. Preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? I write on my phone more than anything

21. Obsession from childhood? Hm- I was really obsessed with High School Musical as a kid. My friend and I would put it on and lip sync to the songs and pretend we were the characters

22. Role model? Is it- wrong to say myself? Bc I feel like that sounds arrogant but genuinely it’s bc I’m constantly trying to better myself mentally and learn and grow. Idk I just am proud of who I am and look to myself when I need to find motivation

23. Strange habits? Strange? Idk if it’s strange but I’m constantly twiddling with the hem of my sleeves bc I love the feeling of it

24. Favorite crystal? Citrine 

25. First song you remember hearing? WH- bitch idk tf

26. Favorite activity to do in warm weather? Stay tf inside in the air conditioning

27. Favorite activity to do in cold weather? Stay tf inside in the heat

28. Five songs to describe you? To describe me?? Girl idk I'm all over the place. How about songs that resonate with me instead,,, Alive by Khalid, Paranoid by Lauv, Phobia by Dvwn, Fake Smile by Ariana Grande, and Breathin by Ariana Grande

29. Best way to bond with you? Truly I'm not very difficult to get along with, just don't be an asshole. Talk to me about psychology, current events, say Soobin is the cutest to exist idk it's not that hard

30. Places that you find sacred? I- hm. I'm not like a church person or anything so idk. Maybe just anything really old or places with very detailed and unique architecture

31. What outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? I don't own many clothes,,, let alone nice clothes. I also don't really dress to impress I'd much rather be comfortable

32. Top five favorite vines? Oh god if I h a d to pick???? The lipstick in the Valentino bag, they were roommates, it's an avocado- thaaanks, jared 19, and uh,,, zach stooppp you're gonna get in trouble

33. Most used phrase in your phone? Tbh it's probably "girl what-" or "no bc"

34. Advertisements you have stuck in your head? That 877-CASH-NOW ONE JFC

35. Average time you fall asleep? Between 11pm-1am

36. What is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Probably the troll face one or smth

37. Suitcase or duffel bag? Suitcase

38. Lemonade or tea? I mix them together!

39. Lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Lemon meringue pie bc I don't really like cake

40. Weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? Y'all I- went to a hs/college mixed school,, I've seen it all. Weirdest?? Idk but one weird thing I remember was when we were making whistles in art and some dude made a penis whistle 😭

41. Last person you texted? My best friend :))

42. Jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket pockets

43. Hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Hoodie 100%

44. Favorite scent for soap? I love soaps that smell like soap. Like ok duh I know that sounds dumb but yk what I mean? I don't want lemon or mint or whatever, I like the plain soap smell

45. Which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy

46. Most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Oversized t-shirt, no pants. I question anyone that is comfortable sleeping with pants on-

47. Favorite type of cheese? Feta!

48. If you were a fruit, what kind would you be? I feel like I'd be a pineapple and I have no clue why

49. What saying or quote do you live by? Not necessarily a quote but more of a thought: live for yourself, enjoy each day, do what gives you joy

50. What made you laugh the hardest you ever have? I have had so many instances in which I have laughed so hard I peed and to even attempt to name one is impossible

51. Current stresses? Making sure my family gets their vaccines and stays safe

52. Favorite font? I don't think I have one? Anything except comic sans

53. What is the current state of your hands? What does this even mean 💀 I mean,, they're holding my phone, cold, and my nails are unpolished

54. What did you learn from your first job? That people are assholes but I'm capable of not giving a fuck bc life is not that damn serious

55. Favorite fairy tale? Is The Three Little Pigs considered a fairy tale?

56. Favorite tradition? Putting up the Christmas tree with my mom :( it's always a lot of fun

57. The three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Depression, grief, and hopefully one day- smth I'm currently dealing with

58. Four talents you’re proud of having? Makeup!! But also: singing, crying on command, and tying cherry stems with my tongue

59. If you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Sick of these bitches

60. If you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? I don't watch anime so idk

61. Favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? It's this line from Eleanor & Park: "Eleanor was right: She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something."

62. Seven characters you relate to? Holy hell, 7?? Probably won't get that many but hm,,, Darlene from Roseanne, Hermione from Harry Potter, Emily from Pretty Little Liars maybe?? Idk I suddenly blanked

63. Five songs that would play in your club? As if it's Your Last by BP, anything from SHINee, anything from Ariana, also anything Rihanna, just a bunch of women tbh

64. Favorite website from your childhood? FUCKING WEBKINZ BRO

65. Any permanent scars? I have a few on my arms idk where they came from tbh, I also have one on my hand from my sister 🧍🏻‍♀

66. Favorite flower(s)? Sunflowers!!! I also really love lilacs 💔

67. Good luck charms? My dog's collar that I wear as a bracelet

68. Worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? Licorice-

69. A fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? It takes repeating a piece of information 12 times at random to memorize it completely

70. Left or right handed? Right

71. Least favorite pattern? Fucking chevron- and realistic camo, and anything with the American flag

72. Worst subject? Yall im awful at history. American history, world history, all of it-

73. Favorite weird flavor combo? Either pickles and peanut butter or cheese and grapes

74. At what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? I'm stubborn but also always in pain so I've become numb to a lot of body pains. I have to be at like a 7-8 before I take smth otherwise I'd always be taking it

75. When did you lose your first tooth? I was probably like 5 I was definitely in Kindergarten

76. What’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? I fw baked potatoes

77. Best plant to grow on a windowsill? I have a love for succulents

78. Coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Oh my- I don't drink coffee but coffee from a gas station

79. Which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? Driver's license for sure

80. Earth tones or jewel tones? Jewel tones

81. Fireflies or lightning bugs? I say both,, but I think I say lightning bugs more

82. PC or console? PC

83. Writing or drawing? Both

84. Podcasts or talk radio? Podcasts definitely

84. Barbie or polly pocket? Barbie

85. Fairy tales or mythology? Fairy tales

86. Cookies or cupcakes? C o o k i e s

87. Your greatest fear? Losing people I love

88. Your greatest wish? To live comfortably and be a great mother

89. Who would you put before everyone else? My family

90. Luckiest mistake? Guessing on 90% of a test and getting an A 💀

91. Boxes or bags? Bags are easier to carry-

92. Lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Fairy lights!!

93. Nicknames? Sam, Sammi, my sister calls me Sams, my best friend calls me Bub, and my gf calls me Baby if that counts- 👀

94. Favorite season? Fall omg it's gorgeous and has perfect temperatures

95. Favorite app on your phone? ✨tumblr✨

96. Desktop background? Its literally a pic of Soobin, Taehyun, and Beomgyu

97. How many phone numbers do you have memorized? Like 4-5

98. Favorite historical era? The one where white people learn their fucking place and stop being racist, homophobic, classist, sexist, all the -ists and -phobics,,,, so none. Fuck history :))

[youidiotprince]

hi! do you have any sobbe headcanons? everyone is talking about skam france and elu and it makes me miss sobbe even more.

lmao I feel this. since elu got a pet (if only for a few hours and I’m still so bothered by that), let’s talk about Robbe and Sander getting a pet!

A few months after Robbe and Sander move in together once Robbe starts University, they decide to get a puppy. It’s mostly Robbe’s idea bc he’s always wanted one but was never allowed to have one bc his papa thought it would be “too much stress on the family.” Robbe and Sander take a few trips to some local animal shelters, revisiting them each a couple of times to try to find the perfect dog for their family. Robbe ends up getting attached to quite a few of them, but Sander hasn’t really connected with any of them yet, and Robbe can tell. He knows all he has to do is say “I want this one” and Sander will agree to whichever one he chooses, but Robbe wants Sander to be just as excited as he is.

He’s growing more and more discouraged the longer they go without adopting one, feeling like maybe Sander just doesn’t want a dog, but then they go back to one of the animal shelter’s they haven’t visited as much and find out that they’ve recently put a new puppy up for adoption. She’s the only one of the litter they were able to locate, so they’re not sure what her story is, but she’s healthy and sweet, if a little bit shy. Robbe’s excited to meet her.

When they go back to, Robbe’s instantly intrigued by her. She’s a terrier mix of some sort, but they’re not sure exactly what. She has fluffy golden fur sprinkled with black to add texture and character, and she has big, warm brown eyes. Robbe squats down in front of her enclosure, sticking his fingers through the fence that stands between them so he can touch her, if she wants. She walks over to him slowly, almost lazily, sniffing at his hand when she finally reaches him before giving him a soft, sweet lick. Then, she sits down right where she is and looks up at Sander, those big brown eyes staring up at him. Robbe looks up at him, too, and Sander, looking awestruck, murmurs, “She kind of has your eyes, Robbe.”

“What, my puppy eyes?” Robbe teases, giving Sander his best sad pleading puppy look. Sander snorts and kneels down beside Robbe, holding his own hand up to the fence. she trots over to him excitedly, sniffing much more energetically at his hand, tail wagging already. Robbe can’t even bring himself to be jealous that she already likes Sander more bc the look in Sander’s eyes silences him. He looks so vulnerable, eyes full of surprise that she’s so happy to see him, that she could like him so much without even knowing him.

He raises those raw, surprised eyes to Robbe’s and declares, “She is the one,” and Robbe’s already nodding his head with a happy grin, bc of course she is, and Robbe tilts his head adorably at Sander and responds, “Yeah, she is, isn’t she?” Sander’s lips turn up into a grin that almost rivals Robbe’s, and he turns back to their puppy, who’s still wagging her tail at him with such force that it rocks her whole body. Before they leave, they start the paperwork so that the shelter will hold her for them as they get their apartment ready for her.

In a few days, they bring her home for the first time, Sander cradling her in his arms. They’ve decided to name her Rebel, and she now wears a rainbow collar with a tag that labels her as theirs, their Rebel. They bought her a dark purple bed that’s basically an oversized pillow, though they know she’ll end up sleeping in bed with them anyway. She’s nervous when they first set her down in her new home, following Sander around at his heels, but she warms up to it pretty quickly and starts to explore, a little bundle of curiosity. They give her her first toy, a plush microphone they saw at the pet store and just had to buy, and she trots around the living room with it in her mouth, seeming proud, holding her head high.

For the first month of having her, it feels like they’re always on the internet looking up tricks for training puppies, and when they’re not on the internet looking them up, they’re trying to apply them in real world, doing their best to train her on their own. It’s going well, she responds to her name, she knows a few basic commands, but they’re struggling the most with house training her. Every time they seem to be making progress, she’ll have an accident on the kitchen floor or right next to the door or, worse yet, the carpeted floor of their bedroom. They’re both starting to grow frustrated, wondering if they’re doing something wrong or if maybe they just aren’t cut out to be pet owners. But every time they start to feel like they want to give up, she comes galloping over to one of them, tail wagging with her whole body, smothering them in kisses and gentle little nibbles, and they know there’s no way they could ever give up on her.

It’s been a few weeks since Rebel’s last accident, so they’re starting to feel like maybe they actually succeeded and she’s outgrown that phase. They’re lying in bed together one Thursday evening before going to sleep, Rebel acting more rambunctious and playful than usual at this hour as she runs back and forth between them, diving for their hands, their noses, anything she can nibble at, having more and more fun with the game the more they flinch or move their hands and faces away from her. They’re laughing at each other’s jerky movements, taking a special thrill from every time the other gets a particularly strong bite from her, goading each other with taunts like, “Come on, it doesn’t hurt that bad,” until the other is made to eat his words when she comes back and bites him. Despite the pain, they’re having just as much fun as she is.

They finally get a reprieve from her reign of terror when she goes down to the foot of the bed, sniffing around their ankles, which are tucked safely under the comforter. “I love nights like this,” Robbe says through a lazy, content smile. “Me too,” Sander answers, leaning forward to kiss Robbe through their smiles. They both let themselves get lost in the kiss until Robbe starts to feel something wet and warm against his foot, seeping through the blanket and sheet. Alarmed, he jerks away from Sander, looking towards the end of the bed, and sure enough, Rebel’s there, squatting just above his foot.

“Fuck, Sander, she’s peeing!” Robbe shouts as he grabs her around the waist and jumps out of bed, stumbling as he gets caught in the blankets. Sander rolls out of bed to the other side, landing on all fours as he scrambles to his feet. Once Robbe’s out of bed, he starts hopping around on one foot, his unsoiled foot, and he’s barking at Sander to grab the blankets off the bed before it seeps through to the mattress. Sander acts as quickly as he can, ripping the sheets and blanket from the bed and dropping them in a messy bundle on the floor, wrestling with the fitted sheet bc it’s caught on the corner of the bed farthest from where he’s standing. He yanks on it as hard as he can, and finally it gives way, forcing him to stumble backwards a few steps before falling on his butt.

He can’t help it anymore, he bursts out laughing in a loud, uncontrollable kind of way. In a hiccuping, gasping for air kind of way. Robbe, still balancing on one foot, snaps, “Sander, this isn’t funny!”

Between laughs, Sander barely manages to get out, “Robbe [gasp for breath] she peed on your foot!” Robbe looks from the innocent, nervous looking puppy in his hands, to his raised, peed-on foot, to his boyfriend, who’s a mess of hysterical laughter on the ground, and Robbe can’t help himself either. He collapses to the floor beside Sander, laughing so hard now that he can barely breathe.

“If you think it’s so funny,” Robbe gasps out, “then you can clean off my foot.” He stretches his soiled foot towards Sander, who shrieks and shoves it away, only making them both laugh harder. Robbe moves to bury his face in Sander’s chest, the both of them laughing against each other now, tangling together. Rebel’s sniffing around them nervously, not able to tell if what’s happening is a good thing or a bad thing. She starts to yip, which draws Robbe and Sander our of their giggle fit a bit, and their laughter slowly starts to trickle off.

“We need to take her out to make sure she’s finished,” Robbe says finally, panting a bit as he recovers.

“I’ll do it,” Sander says as he kisses Robbe’s cheek. “You have to go take care of your pee foot.” He shoots Robbe a teasing look that earns him a shove in return. Sander just laughs as he picks Rebel up and heads out of the room to take her out.

Robbe hops to the bathroom, where he rinses off his foot with some soap and water and dries it with one of the towels that are hanging up. He’s not sure if it’s his or Sander’s, but he gets a wicked grin at the thought of it being Sander’s. He goes back to the bedroom to gather the soiled bedding into a bag they can take to the laundromat the next morning. When Sander and Rebel come back inside, Sander helps Robbe make the bed with a fresh set of sheets and a throw blanket from the couch. They curl up together in the cool crisp feel of them, Rebel now lying peacefully between their legs like usual, bladder empty.

“I thought we were making progress,” Robbe says softly, feeling disappointed and discouraged all over again, now that he’s come off the high from all of his laughter a bit.

“We are,” Sander reassures him, placing a kiss to Robbe’s shoulder through the fabric of his t-shirt. “This was just a minor hiccup. They happen. We’ll get there, eventually. Together.” It’s the reminder of “together” that succeeds in reassuring Robbe, because when they’re together, even the lowest of lows don’t feel that low. Even getting peed on by his own dog can be funny, with Sander there beside him, laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. So, as Robbe places a kiss of his own to the top of Sander’s head, he echoes Sander’s last word back to him.

“Together.”

[baxtrs]

[  madelyn  cline,  cis  female,  twenty  three  ]  did  you  see  OLIVIA  BAXTER  ?  looking  as  broke  as  ever.  rumor  has  it  SHE  is  usually  AIMLESS  &  CYNICAL  but  is  also  known  to  be  CREATIVE  &  FACETIOUS.  we’ll  see  about  that.  they  kind  of  remind  me  of  THRIFTED  SNAPBACKS  AND  OVERSIZED  FLANNELS,  INKED  DOODLES  IN  THE  MARGINS  OF  SHEET  MUSIC,  STALE  PIZZA  CRUSTS.  maybe  because  they’re  a  TAURUS.  they’ve  been  living  around  here  for  THIRTEEN  YEARS.  i  wonder  when  they’ll  make  it  out…   

pinterest  !

first  off,  nobody  calls  her  olivia  except  for  her  mother.  ollie,  bax,  and  baxter  are  all  common  nicknames

born  in  apalachicola,  florida  &  lived  there  until  *gasp*  her  dad  left  them

looking  back  she  probably  should’ve  seen  it  coming  tbh  –  he  wasn’t  at  home  often  because  he  worked  on  a  shrimp  boat,  but  when  he  was  at  home,  hoo  boy  it  was  Frosty  btwn  her  parents  !!

in  her  defense  she  was  10  years  old

but  ollie  loved  him  bc  he  did  stuff  like  let  her  drink  his  beer  (  even  though  she  hated  the  taste,  he  drank  it  and  she  wanted  to  be  just  like  him  )  or  take  her  on  a  spontaneous  trip  on  his  boat  and  return  hours  later  to  her  frantic  mother  on  the  verge  of  calling  the  police

looking  back,  also  not  a  great  father  or  husband  LMAO

anyways  she  idolized  him  and  when  he  left,  ollie  blamed  her  mother

even  more  so  because  soon  after,  they  packed  up  &  left  florida  for  crawford  cause  the  rent  was  cheaper  and  they  only  had  one  income  now

but  obviously  ollie  was  like  screw  you  i  wanna  stay  in  florida

probably  ran  away  multiple  times  when  she  was  little  &  continued  making  her  mother  frantic,  the  poor  woman

things  have  been  strained  between  them  for  a  long  time,  especially  cause  her  mother  worked  a  lot  of  nights  and  overtime  shifts  to  provide,  and  just  wasn’t  around  a  lot

of  course,  now  ollie  understands  it  isn’t  her  mother’s  fault,  but  there’s  still  a  rift  between  them  that  can’t  easily  be  fixed.  but  it’s  slowly  closing,  especially  after  she  moved  out

she  had  a  lot  of  free  rein  as  a  kid  and  spent  her  teen  &  pre-teen  years  roughhousing  with  the  neighbourhood  boys,  sneaking  cigarettes  and  beer  in  the  mcdonalds  parking  lot  and  skinning  her  knees  trying  to  skateboard

she  went  to  a  school  full  of  kids  like  her  —  born  to  single  parent  working  class  families,  with  little  ambition  or  regard  for  rules.  the  teachers  were  underpaid  and  overworked,  and  didn’t  have  high  expectations  for  their  students

so  ollie  never  tried  cause  she  never  thought  she’d  be  anything  great.  she  skipped  class  and  mouthed  off  when  she  was  at  school.  and  if  she  did  try,  it  just  resulted  in  a  headache  and  bad  grades  anyway

barely  graduated  high  school  &  definitely  has  not  gone  to  any  sort  of  postsecondary  education

fashion  aesthetic:  90s  grunge  babeyyy  !!  sk8r  boi  see  u  l8r  boi  !!  oversized  flannels,  graphic  tees,  baggy  jeans  with  ripped  knees,  backwards  snapbacks

gives  off  a  very  blasé  attitude  (  not  that  she  knows  what  blasé  means  ).  she  doesn’t  take  anything  seriously.  chill  and  mellow  to  the  point  of  aimlessness.  does  she  have  a  plan  for  her  life  ??  nah  !

her  mom  lives  in  crawford.  ollie  lives  in  the  moment  sjdfsdjf

pretty  lowkey  cynical,  tho  she  avoids  conflict  like  the  plague

she  can  be  pretty  snarky  sometimes  but  never  in  a  mean-spirited  way

catch  her  making  terrible  puns  and  dad  jokes  constantly.  10  times  more  in  uncomfortable/awkward  situations  lmao  

Big  Gay

works  at  a  local  greasy  fast  food  joint,  and  has  since  she  was  16

she’s  v  creative  but  doesn’t  think  she  could  apply  that  to  any  sort  of  career  or  further  education  because  she  doesn’t  think  that’ll  make  money  and  cause  she  really  struggled  with  school  so  she's  kinda  resigned  herself  to  having  a  dead-end  kinda  life

for  one  thing,  she  constantly  doodles  and  makes  cartoonish  little  drawings.  surprisingly  good  at  it  even  tho  she  doesn’t  have  any  sort  of  art  training

also  plays  the  drums  in  parker’s  band  !!  a  gr8  creative  outlet.  catch  her  tapping  out  a  drumbeat  when  she’s  bored

surprisingly  empathetic  &  good  with  kids

 uhhhh  like  this  or  hmu  if  you  wanna  plot  w  my  Disaster  Lesbian  daughter  k  thankss

[lcofowler]

ok hlo im not even Sure i shld be picking up a third muse but i. love beau n wanted to play him n thts tht on tht. so if u want an oversized puppy to plot with Bleathe give this a like smiles at u all

( demi-boy ) haven’t seen BEAU TURNER around in a while. the LUKE HEMMINGS lookalike has been known to be (+) EUPHORIC & (+) AMIABLE, but HE can also be (-) NAIVE & (-) CHILDISH. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in FINE ARTS. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. 

overalls thrown over an oversized sweater. paint constantly staining your hands and face. smiling so hard your face hurts. naming all your plants. having a crush on everyone you see. flowers in your hair. 70’s lovechild. a fresh joint constantly in hand.

when beau’s parents were starting uni they met at a party, had a one night stand, n pretty much…….. were gna leave it at tht bt SURPRISE! his mum got pregnant

she told his dad and they literally were so laid back and had so little regard for like what they were doing w their future that they were just like ‘let’s just drop out and like. get married ig.’

it actually kinda worked in their favour, they’re still super in love to this day even tho his dad’s family kinda. stopped talking to them after that, so money was a huge struggle but they came into a huge income when his mom’s dad passed away so now? living pretty lavishly tbh!

they raised beau in a pretty………. hippie household, they were still good parents bt they were absent sometimes tryna catch up on the youth that they missed and made some questionable decisions as parents since they were rly jst kids themselves still when they had beau

they’re pretty sexually liberal folks even to this day, lots of ppl came in and out of their house while beau was growing up that his parents were like ‘in love’ with, they basically kept getting bored of just each other but didn’t wanna split up? so they’d………. bring in new ppl to ‘spice it up’ sidhgoisdhgio it was a mess

bc of this beau is pretty childish bt was also rly sexually mature? it got him into some trouble cause on more than one occasion the randoms that’d be crashing at his house wld. Have Their Way w him n he jst thought it was normal and never said anything cause he’d feel like he was ratting someone out if he did

it actually did mess him up a lil bit tho,he’s so loving tht he doesn’t wanna admit anything’s Wrong with him bt he truly feels undeserving of anyone tht wld . Treat Him Well. love that for him!

personality wise he’s a bit of an odd ball, super into the belief of aliens, a bit of an activist when it comes to equality and gay/bi rights, his parents took him to a bunch of pride parades n stuff growing up, he’s ALWAYS saying kinda. weird and odd phrases idk he’s endearing bt weird

also a sweetheart? like the definition of a California Sweetheart, wants everyone to love him and wants to love everyone, he’s not the best at commitment cuz he wasn’t rly raised in a v healthy ‘commitment’ environment but he knows how to love properly and does his best tbh

very very artsy, almost always covered in paint, n his nails are painted a diff colour every day. also has a thing for licorice?

PLOT IDEAS: exes, lots of them probs, it’s hard to imagine any break ups being BAD bt if they were he’d still be trying to this day to make things right, current fwb’s, a one night stand, ppl he’s totally pining over, maybe an ex he still has feelings for?, a muse, someone he jst loves to draw whether they know it or its in secret, he needs friends!!!, and roommates :-) the world? our oyster!

[alittleorcish]

Draik, ogrin, gnorbu, shoyru, Ruki, uni, lutari, eyrie!

holy shit that’s a lot ok let’s get to WORK !! under a cut bc this is super long and also contains some sensitive content 

Draik: What’s your most prized possession?

i guess i kinda think about this as, ‘what would hurt me the most if i lost it?’ the first thing i think of is a stuffed bear that i’ve had since i was very little. his name is theodore (and i didn’t realize the irony when i named him that i basically named my teddy bear, ‘teddy’) anyway he’s just super sentimental and he still hangs out on my bed lmao you’re never too old for your stuffed animals 

outside of this, i think it’d kill me if i lost the writing/brainstorming i’ve done for the book i’m writing (trying to, anyway.) i actually wrote the very first draft of the book when i was 13 and my (now ex-) friend threw the only copy of it i had away :^) i still mourn it sometimes, even if it was a really shitty story back then hahaha

Ogrin: Tell us 3 things you’re really proud of about yourself.

ok this is actually gonna be p hard haha

1. i’m a pretty good writer. this is like one thing i actually have confidence in. i don’t want to be arrogant or anything about it, but i’ve been writing since i was little and it’s something i really love to do - which is why i’ve gone back to school to study it more and see how i can always be improving :) 2. i’m back in school!! holy shit it’s hard to go back to school. high school and college have been an uphill fuckin battle for me but i’m almost done with my bachelor’s (ok, a year left!!) and i honestly can’t believe it haha but i’m working hard to just get it DONE 3. i’m not dead. lmao ok this’ll be a little more personal. i’ve struggled with chronic depression since i was in junior high. in my freshman year in high school, my dad was killed by a drunk driver. our extended family basically abandoned us. my mom got into a relationship with an abusive man. i barely graduated high school, honestly it’s a miracle i did. i still suffer from ptsd. i was borderline suicidal for a very long time, and it resurfaces here and there. but, i’m still here. 

Gnorbu: Do you prefer winter clothes or summer clothes?

definitely winter. it doesn’t get AS cold here in southern Cali but there’s nothing better than being able to put on a pair of thick leggings and a big oversized sweater

Shoyru: What was your first neopet?

my first neopet was a zafara, actually! this was back when i was like 11 though, so i named her something like zafari7834934. i really wish i still had my first account, but it was purged way back when 

Ruki: Are you a productive person or a procrastinator?

mm, i’d say i’m kinda both? usually at the beginning of a semester i’m really proactive and get lots of stuff done early on, but usually i tend to burn out halfway through and end up procrastinating really badly haha. in fact i left like 200 pages of reading and a paper to write til the last day… they’re due today…. oops

Uni: Do you believe in magic?

to an extent? i can get behind the spirituality aspect of magic, like i’m very interested in stuff like Wicca/witchcraft, that attachment to and commune with nature and drawing energy from the natural world 

Lutari: What’s your dream vacation?

a long trip through scotland or japan. there are tons of other places as well but these are my top two haha.  i’d love to be able to take a few weeks, travel through the countries, maybe have a tour guide esque person to help out but i hate being on big crowded tours - that’s how my trip to china had been but we’d been able to go to really rural non-touristy places and i’d REALLY loved that

Eyrie: What is your favorite mythological creature?

omg i love this question!! my favorite mythological creature is the chimera, specifically the version that has a head and body of a lion, a second head of a goat, and a tail of a snake. i actually have an OC in the book that i’m working on who is a chimera in disguise as a giant lady ;^)