hii! i really love your stories and i adore how you write the saja boys so i was thinking maybe if you can make one like reader is jinu’s sister and whats the dynamics between all of them (it can be romantic dynamics for the 4 other boys too!)
YOU'RE JINU'S SISTER
hii! promise I'll be more active now!🖤
JINU❤️
Being Jinu’s sister meant living in the quiet safety of someone who had always taken the role of protector seriously.
From the outside, he appeared composed and unwavering, but with you, that stoic exterior softened into something deeply tender.
Jinu had always felt responsible for you. Whether it was ensuring you had eaten, walking on the side of the street closest to traffic, or silently placing a warm drink in your hands during colder evenings, his care manifested in subtle but meaningful gestures.
He never smothered you, yet his presence was constant—steady and reassuring.
When the other Saja Boys first met you, Jinu’s protectiveness became even more evident. He observed every interaction carefully, because he wanted to ensure that you were surrounded by people who valued you as much as he did.
Despite his vigilance, Jinu trusted his friends. He knew their hearts, and more importantly, he trusted your judgment. Still, that didn’t stop him from offering the occasional warning.
“If any of you make her uncomfortable,” he once said, his gaze sweeping over the group, “you’ll answer to me.”
The statement was delivered with such quiet certainty that it simply felt like a fact.
Yet, when he noticed the way you laughed more freely around them, especially when your eyes lingered on one of the boys, his stern demeanor softened.
Jinu wanted you to be happy, even if that meant stepping back from his protective role.
In quieter moments, he would confide in you, expressing pride in the person you had become. Sitting together with cups of tea, he might gently say, “You don’t need me as much anymore, and that’s a good thing.”
But the warmth in his eyes always added an unspoken promise: I’ll still be here whenever you do.
ABBY💚
Abby’s dynamic with you was immediate and vibrant. From the moment you were introduced, he treated you like family, effortlessly weaving laughter and warmth into every interaction.
His outgoing personality created a space where you felt comfortable being yourself, free from the expectations that sometimes accompanied being Jinu’s sister.
He delighted in making you laugh, often exaggerating stories or engaging in playful banter. Whether it was spontaneous karaoke sessions or impromptu outings for late-night desserts, Abby ensured that life around him was never dull.
Yet beneath his humor lay a deeply caring nature. Abby was incredibly perceptive when it came to your emotions, often noticing when you felt overwhelmed or uncertain. In those moments, his playful demeanor would soften, replaced by genuine concern.
“Hey,” he would say gently, nudging your shoulder, “you don’t have to carry everything alone. I've got you.”
When Abby’s affection began to take on a romantic tone, it was expressed through small but meaningful (to him) gestures—saving you the last slice of cake, offering his jacket when you were cold, or proudly introducing you as someone incredibly important to him.
Jinu initially watched Abby with a hint of skepticism, wary of his nature. However, it didn’t take long for him to recognize the sincerity behind Abby’s actions. Seeing the way Abby prioritized your happiness and comfort reassured him.
Their interactions often carried a humorous edge, with Abby playfully attempting to win Jinu’s approval.
“I promise to return her in perfect condition,” he once joked, earning a rare amused huff from Jinu.
MYSTERY💜
Mystery’s connection with you developed gradually, built on shared silences and mutual understanding.
Unlike the other guys in your life, he never tried to impress you or fill the space with unnecessary words. Instead, he offered a calm presence that felt both grounding and comforting.
From the very beginning, he treated you not merely as Jinu’s sister but as an individual worthy of his attention and respect. He listened intently whenever you spoke, remembering even the smallest details—your favorite books, the way you preferred your tea, or the subtle changes in your mood.
Jinu noticed this attentiveness almost immediately. Rather than reacting with suspicion, he observed quietly, recognizing the sincerity in Mystery’s actions.
There was an unspoken acknowledgment between them: Mystery understood the responsibility of caring for someone so precious to Jinu.
As your relationship with Mystery deepened, it became clear that his affection was gentle yet profound. He would often seek you out during gatherings, standing beside you in comfortable silence or offering a soft smile that spoke volumes.
One evening, while the group was gathered in the living room, Mystery handed you a small, thoughtfully chosen book.
“You mentioned wanting to read this,” he said simply.
Mystery’s romantic interest unfolded slowly, rooted in trust and emotional intimacy. He never rushed you, allowing the connection to develop naturally.
When he eventually asked if you would like to spend time together—just the two of you—his voice was calm but tinged with vulnerability.
Jinu’s response to your growing bond was one of cautious acceptance. After a long moment of contemplation, he simply told Mystery to take care of you.
ROMANCE🩷
Romance approached you with a natural grace that made every interaction feel meaningful.
From the start, he treated you with a level of attentiveness that bordered on poetic, ensuring that you always felt valued and cherished.
He had a knack for creating beautiful moments out of ordinary situations—bringing you flowers simply because they reminded him of you, or inviting you on quiet walks where conversations flowed effortlessly.
His affection was expressed through both words and actions, each gesture imbued with sincerity.
Jinu observed Romance with thoughtful consideration. While he was aware of Romance’s inherently affectionate nature, he also recognized the depth of his emotions. What reassured him most was the respect Romance consistently showed toward both you and your relationship with him.
When Romance eventually expressed his feelings for you, it was done with heartfelt sincerity. Seeking Jinu’s blessing beforehand, he stated, “I care for her deeply and would never take her trust for granted.”
This only strengthened the bond between the two men, allowing Jinu to feel confident in Romance’s intentions.
Your relationship with Romance blossomed into something tender and supportive. He made you feel not only loved but truly understood, creating a relationship grounded in trust and affection.
BABY💙
Baby’s reaction to meeting you was, unsurprisingly, dramatic.
“So this is the better sibling,” he remarked, with a mischievous grin. “I was starting to think Jinu made you up to sound more mysterious!”
You quickly realized that Baby’s teasing was less about provocation and more about affection. He delighted in poking fun at Jinu, often exaggerating stories from their past to your amusement.
“Did he ever tell you about the time he tried to give a motivational speech and accidentally intimidated everyone into silence? I actually wanted to laugh so bad!” Baby would say, earning a long-suffering sigh from Jinu.
Despite his playful antics, Baby was fiercely protective of you. He made it clear that anyone who hurt you would have to deal with him. His loyalty was unwavering, hidden beneath layers of sarcasm and humor.
When his feelings for you began to deepen, they were expressed through subtle shifts in behavior. The teasing softened, replaced by moments of genuine vulnerability.
He would linger a little longer during conversations, ensure you got home safely, or quietly check in when you seemed upset.
Jinu’s response to Baby’s interest was a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement. Their exchanges often became a source of entertainment for the rest of the group.
However, Jinu understood that, despite his chaotic tendencies, Baby possessed a good heart and would never intentionally cause you harm.
Ultimately, Baby’s dynamic with you was one of laughter, warmth, and unexpected tenderness—a relationship that balanced playful mischief with genuine devotion.
hey it’s ok if you lost your ai virginity back when you were uneducated. a lot of posts go like “reblog if you have never ever used generative ai and never ever will!!!” but it’s ok if you have used gen ai before and it’s even ok if you used to think it was cool, back before you understood what it really was and how it worked, either because no one had taught you about it and you discovered it on your own or because the only education you had received about it was from the tech bros. you’re not a burger with a bite out of it for having used ai. ok
It is 100 percent okay to stop using it today and join the "boo AI" club.
This isn't a purity thing. This is a "everyone stand with us against destroying the environment and giving asthma to poor people" thing.
Did you know that when one community says no to an AI data center, they specifically search out communities with fewer resources? Communities that can't defend themselves? And the pollution 100 percent affects their health and wellbeing, in addition to burning through our already scarce drinking water.
You can stop using character.ai today. You can say "I listened to the facts and stopped." And another thing: don't you think it's a bit more impactful to have used it, stopped, and then you're in a position to say how little it helped? How doing things for yourself improved your life?
the audio is from "How the Grinch Stole Christmas Read by James Arnold Taylor (the voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi) and Corey Burton (the voices of Cad Bane and Ziro the Hutt)" by James Arnold Taylor on YouTube
Sho lap pillow coming right up, I hope you like it!! Something short and sweet (≧▽≦)
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
"You better compensate me well for this," you huffed, wrapping up yet another order.
Sho let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, yeah. Nothing's free these days, huh?"
You were helping Sho out at his food truck. Lately, it seemed like everyone craved something warm and homemade more than usual. Business had been blooming.
"God forbid a girl wants to be rewarded for her hard work," you sighed dramatically before moving on to wash the dishes.
By the time you were done, it was already dark outside. Right. The days really were getting shorter. You yawned softly, the rush finally catching up with you.
"I was planning to compensate you with a good meal," Sho said as you started heading back, "but you look like you're going to pass out any second now."
At the mention of food, your eyes widened immediately.
"Whatever do you mean?" you replied quickly. "I'm wide awake."
You could never resist Sho's cooking.
He reached out and ruffled your hair, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "Not even trying to hide how much you like my food, huh?"
"Shush. You made the offer, and I'm accepting it. No take-backs," you huffed with a grin.
You're even cuter when you're tired, Sho thought, watching you for a moment longer than necessary.
Back at the dorms, the two of you collapsed onto the sofa in the common room first, finally catching your breath. Your legs definitely needed a break.
You weren't quite sure what made you do it next. Maybe you were too tired to think properly, or maybe you just needed some warmth.
"I heard that napping with your head on someone's lap helps you rest faster," you mumbled, stretching out before gently resting your head in Sho's lap.
It didn't really make sense. But right now, it didn't matter.
He froze, just for a second, before letting out an amused huff. His hand slowly came up, fingers threading through your hair.
"And I'm guessing you're planning to test out that theory?" He asked sofly. "What about the food?"
"Mmm... food can wait," you hummed, curling in slightly. "A girl needs her beauty sleep."
Sho didn't reply right away. He just kept stroking your hair, steady and gentle, until your breathing evened out.
After a while, he sighed quietly, eyes soft as he watched you sleep.
"You're already beautiful enough," he murmured, careful not to wake you.
"Ew. At least take this to your room."
Sho glanced up to see Leo standing nearby, arms crossed and eyes rolling.
"Shut up," Sho shot back. "And keep your voice down."
"Aww, so protective of your little girlfriend?" Leo teased.
"She's not my girlfriend."
"Yet," Leo grinned. "But if you don't hurry up, who knows what might happen? Just saying~"
With that, he disappeared.
Sho scoffed, but the words lingered longer than he liked. He looked back down at you, his thumb brushing your cheek almost unconsciously.
"I guess I really am a coward when it comes to you," he admitted quietly.
Later that night, back in your own dorm, you paused mid step. That nap.. it felt oddly vivid. His touch, the words you heard...
You giggled to yourself, dismissing it as a dream. Never realizing that every single thing you heard and felt, had been real.
He's still drugged out of his mind, they gave him this 72 hour pain killer that makes him not blink and he's clearly on some kinda trip so he's not fully there mentally rn but he's okay!
He was playing a bit with me last night and my mom's gotten him to purr so he's getting back into being himself. Finally got him to eat for the first time post-surgery yesterday as well which was really good!
I was in a college psych class, and the teacher was doing some kind of exercise about memory, patterns, and retention. He began with, “for instance, if I asked you what number the first letter of your name is in the alphabet, you wouldn’t be able to tell me right aw–”
“Ten,” I said.
“What?”
“J. J is ten,” I said again.
He stared at me.
“I happened to learn it while looking at the alphabet when I was five or six, and it just stayed in my brain,” I told him.
Then we did an exercise on retention. “I’m going to tell you a story,” he said, “and then I’m going to send you out of the room for five minutes, and when you come back, you have to repeat as much of the story back to me as possible.”
He told me a long and meandering story with no plot or structure, just a random series of events, place names, actions, etc. Then he sent me out of the room.
I looked at the wall for a while.
He called me back in five minutes later, stood me up in front of the class, and asked me to repeat “just as much of the story as you remember.” Apparently while I’d been gone he’d been telling the class about how eyewitness accounts aren’t reliable because people don’t remember things well after a certain period of time.
So I told his story back to him– not verbatim, but certain phrases were exact– and watched the consternation in his face as I accidentally blew up his (valid! and extensively studied!) lesson about how bad people’s retention is.
“It’s like a song,” I tried to explain to him, and the class. “Or a poem. Every part of the story has a little tag to remember it. I looked at the chalkboard while you were saying this part. My leg itched while you were saying that part. A chair squeaked during the next part. Then I just have to come back and go over all the sensations that I had while you were”
“Sit down,” he said.
I sat.
Turns out I’m Autisms Georg adn should not have been counted
ADHD version: A friend asked, on a field trip, why I knew the scientific name for Caltha palustris, “Well, we did that [one week long] field ID course [three years previously] and we saw it in one of the bogs”.
This, I was informed, is very much not a normal reason to remember the scientific name of a plant for the rest of your life.
It took me five whole years to learn when my partner’s birthday is.
I can remember specific details about games I played over two decades ago that I have not played since.
I once forgot it was my birthday. On my birthday. And when my sister (Who lived several hours away) jumped out of hiding and yelled happy birthday, I looked around to see who she was talking to.
i bring a sort of "canadian nationalism is heavily based in being "better" than america which leads us to ignore our own equally problematic history and specifically the atrocities committed against indigenous people by our own government, so we tend to see canada as a generally good country that just made a few mistakes rather than a nation that systemically attempted to erase numerous cultures and histories and is still in some way perpetuating harm against those people by refusing to better their material conditions in a way that would create substantial change" vibe to the conversation that people with a strong sense of canadian nationalism don't really like
Important to note that canada is still very much attempting to erase indigenous languages and cultures. Most native kids still don't grow up speaking their language, and the majority of foster kids and sex trafficking victims in canada are Indigenous. We are still being stolen and erased.
The steam clings to me. Water's off but I'm still dripping. Can't tell if my skin's red from heat or scrubbing or—oh.
He's still here.
Lulu.
Didn't leave. Didn't wander off to monologue at someone else. Just standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed. Waiting. Like I'm a package he ordered and he's deciding whether to keep the receipt.
Towel's loose. Slipping. I'm not gonna fix it.
His eyes track the drop. A flash of magenta. Of course.
Still sharp, but slower now. He's not yelling. Not smirking. Just watching again. Like he was in the doorway. Like he is now.
I step out. Floor's cold. Doesn't matter.
His hand's suddenly on my wrist. Don't remember moving. Don't remember breathing.
Towel falls. Hits the floor with a sound that feels too loud for how soft it is.
And then I'm—On him. Pulled. Guided. Like he knew exactly where l'd land and made space for it. For me.
His clothes are soft. Expensive. I'm still wet from the shower. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't complain about the mess. His hands don't shake.
I think—
I think I know now why he wanted me to shower.
It wasn't about the smell. Not really. It was about this. This closeness. This contact. This goddamn silence between us thick enough to choke on.
And maybe —
Maybe he wanted me clean because he couldn't stand the thought of touching me when I wasn't.
Maybe this is the only way he'll let himself. And maybe I'm okay with that.
At some point, he starts losing clothes too. Not dramatically. Not all at once. Just—Layers slipping. Silk and structure giving way. Cufflinks set aside, not tossed. Buttons undone with his irritatingly deliberate fingers.
He's clean. Of course he is. He's always clean. Like being touched by the world would somehow ruin him. Like sweat and sin and mess only happen around him, not to him.
But l've seen it. I've tasted it.
I want to bite him. God, I want to bite him.
Leave something jagged behind. A mark. A claim.
Something real.
But I don't. Not anywhere visible. I know better by now. I know where he allows them. Which bits of his perfect skin he'll let me bruise.
The underside of his jaw, where the shadow catches. The dip just below his ribs. The curve of his hipbone—left side only. He hates symmetry when it comes to pain.
No neck. No collarbone. No wrists. Nothing that could interfere with sleeves or silk or presentation. He doesn't have to say it anymore. I just know.
And maybe that's what ruins me most. That l've memorized the map of his limits. That I listen to them.
That he knows I will.
Mostly.
I move without thinking. Mouth trailing somewhere it shouldn't. Somewhere off the list.
Somewhere he's stopped me before.
His neck. Just under the ear, where the skin's soft and warm and smells like soap and bergamot and whatever lotion he swears is "formulated for something something pretentious." I know this spot. I know it's off-limits.
I do it anyway. Maybe to test him. Maybe to prove he's not really here. Maybe just because I'm too far gone to care. And he—
He doesn't stop me. Doesn't flinch. Doesn't scold.
Doesn't pull my hair or shove my shoulder or hiss through his teeth like l've committed a war crime on his porcelain skin.
He breathes. Shaky. Barely-there. But he lets it happen.
Lets me happen.
So l keep going. A little slower. A little deeper.
Teeth just barely grazing the skin.
Still nothing. No "Hoshibami, you feral disaster."
No "BTH."
No hand shoving me back into place. Just his own hands gripping the back of my neck like he's anchoring himself. Like I might slip away if he doesn't.
And that's when I know. He's breaking his own rules. Letting me mark what's usually off the map.
Letting me rewrite it.
Even if it's just for tonight. Even if he never admits it happened.
I'll remember. Because he let me leave something that'll be hard to cover. And for once, he gets to flinch at the mirror.
—
And then I'm back in the shower.
Water running. Head against the tile. Skin raw.
Steam curling around my ankles like it's trying to drag me under.
Maybe it happened. Maybe it didn't. Maybe it's yet to come. Hard to tell. It all blurs together.
The heat. The mouth. The magenta. The way his breath hitched when I crossed the line and he didn't shove me back. The sound he made—fuck, did he make a sound?
Was it real? Was he even there?
My shoulder aches where his hand might've been.
My lips taste like skin that was too clean to be mine. My throat feels like I swallowed silence and it hasn't finished choking me yet.
Maybe it was a dream. Maybe I'm still in it. Maybe I'll walk out of this shower and he'll be standing there, arms crossed, towel folded, disgust sharp as ever.
Or maybe he won't be there at all.
And I'll wonder again if I imagined the whole thing just to feel something soft in the middle of all this sharp.
Doesn't matter. I think about his eyes.
Still magenta. Still watching. Still burned into me like heat that won't rinse off.
Do you ever write something ordinary, like I ate breakfast or the weather was tolerable today? Or is it always this—half dream, half confession, all fever? Because reading this—I don't know whether to throw the notebook into the fire or put it in a vault.
You shouldn't write about me like this. You shouldn't see me like this. I didn't think you did. I didn't stay because I wanted to watch. I stayed because you looked—No. That's not right.
You were swaying on your feet. Skin pale. Eyes glassy. You looked like if I left, you'd fall face-first into the tile and bleed out over the grout. Someone had to make sure you didn't die on the floor, and I was already there. That's all.
Except—When you stepped out, you didn't look at me like a man being scolded. You looked at me like a man being remembered. And I didn't move. Couldn't.
There are moments, Taiga, when I forget the art of self-preservation. When all the calculations fall away and what's left is just heat and breath and the ache of proximity.
But you're right about one thing: I didn't stop you. Maybe because I wanted to see how far you'd go... or maybe because, for once, I didn't want to stop myself.
#the gonzo and rizzo dynamic this implies is rizzo being like ‘gonzo i think we should get out of here’ at every turn#while gonzo is like ‘rizzo don’t be ridiculous’#gonzo: haha wow this castle is so cool and count dracula is such a nice guy!!#rizzo (trembling like a nervous Chihuahua) oh god oh god oh god#gonzo: check it out this guy’s got no reflection! crazy!!#rizzo: gonzo. we are gonna DIE here.#dracula *crawling down the castle like a lizard*#rizzo: GONZO ARE YOU SEEING THIS- wait#gonzo: *crawling down the wall like a lizard too* wahoo!!! (penny-anna)
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