brithebri747

[brithebri747]

Can I request headcanons for the Saja Boys reacting to gn reader telling him how you would love to hold his hands but you didn't want to gross him out because your hands are sweaty please?

-The Sweat Never Bothered Me Anyway-

⋆༺𓆩The Saja Boys react to your sweaty palms𓆪༻⋆

-°• Contents: a series of sweet, fluffy headcanons relating to how the Saja Boys would react to you having sweaty palms.

-°• Warnings: none

-°• Bribri Speaks!: thank you so much for the request! These came out slightly shorter than my typical writing, so if you want more, feel free to message me! I hope you enjoy! ♡

Jinu Saja:

⋆˚꩜｡ Jinu nearly always held your hand in public. It ensured you didn’t get separated in the common event that he got swarmed by rabid fans.

⋆˚꩜｡ As the pair of you began to make your way out of the house, he subconsciously reached for your hand.

⋆˚꩜｡ The moment you dodge his advance, he’s pouting. His lips jut out slightly, almost petulantly, his shoulders notably slumping. It was rather amusing to see a typically cocky idol so grief-stricken over something as mundane as hand-holding.

⋆˚꩜｡ “Why?” He asks, staring at your hands like they had personally wronged him.

⋆˚꩜｡ As you explain that your hands are clammy, his pout significantly lessens. He could deal with moist palms.

⋆˚꩜｡ Without another moment of hesitance, he gently draws you closer, using the hem of his shirt to dab at the perspiration gathering on your palms.

⋆˚꩜｡ Satisfied with the reduced sweat, he victoriously grabs your hand, swinging your arms with slightly more power than he typically did. He would rather be sweat-slicked than risk losing his grip on you.

⋆˚꩜｡ He wouldn’t be breaking his hand-holding tradition anytime soon.

Abby Saja:

⋆˚꩜｡ The two of you were at a red carpet when he reached for your hand. Abby, despite all his bravado, got slightly flustered when met with flashing cameras and screaming interviewers.

⋆˚꩜｡ So, whilst making your way down the velvet, the both of you dressed to the nines, he reaches down for your hand. He needed the reassurance of your touch.

⋆˚꩜｡ However, the moment you catch him reaching for your hands, you quickly snatch them away.

⋆˚꩜｡ “Abs, you know my hands get sweaty when I’m nervous,” you whisper, a slight flush dusting your cheeks. You prayed the blinding flashes of cameras would minimize the furious pink.

⋆˚꩜｡ He stares at you for a long beat, as though he simply couldn’t comprehend why sweaty hands mattered.

⋆˚꩜｡ “Uhhh. Ok? I still wanna hold your hand.”

⋆˚꩜｡ Before you can protest further, he grabs your hand, firmly interlacing your fingers.

⋆˚꩜｡ To Abby, holding your hand provided a sense of comfort. It grounded him in the moment. He couldn’t care whether you had drenched palms or not. You could’ve had hooves, and Abby would still hold them with pride.

⋆˚꩜｡ Abby made a point to keep a firm hold on your hand the remainder of the night, proudly parading around the event.

⋆˚꩜｡ Every so often, he’d gently squeeze your hand; reminding you he was still hanging on.

Baby Saja:

⋆˚꩜｡ Baby only ever held your hand in two instances; when he was anxious, and when he was at signings.

⋆˚꩜｡ In this case, his hand-holding was attested to the latter. He had recently begun bringing you to his signings, due to increased demand for you. Therefore, he had begun needing to hold your hand more often.

⋆˚꩜｡ Today, however, you had the most atrocious sweaty palms of all time. It was the type where the perspiration continually built up no matter how many times you wiped them.

⋆˚꩜｡ So, when Baby reached for your hand, you discreetly tugged it away, mouthing that your palms were disgustingly sweaty.

⋆˚꩜｡ He pulls a face; the kind where his whole nose scrunched up. It was perhaps the most grossed out face you had ever witnessed. After a split second, he schools his face, transforming back into his precious idol persona.

⋆˚꩜｡ Though he wasn’t interested in holding your sweat slicked hands, his felt somewhat empty without the familiar weight in them. He didn’t allow it to show on his face, his expression a careful mask of sweetness.

⋆˚꩜｡ A few moments later, he can’t bear it any longer, grabbing your hand so tight you heard your knuckles pop. His expression doesn’t change as he clings to you, but the corner of his lips twitch, a tell-tale sign of his disgust.

⋆˚꩜｡ After the signing, he washes his hands for an excessively long time. It was enough to make you roll your eyes.

⋆˚꩜｡ When he’s finally finished, he tugs you into a hug, muttering something about getting lotion for your hands.

⋆˚꩜｡ “Never sweat again.”

Romance Saja:

⋆˚꩜｡ Romance adored your hands. Not just in an amorous manner, but rather because of the feeling of connectedness they provided. The hand was the most sensitive appendage in the human body. This was due to the fact it was composed of thousands of sensory nerve endings.

⋆˚꩜｡ He loved to kiss them, pressing gentle pecks to each fingertip. He adored holding them between his, interlocking your fingers. His personal favorite was holding your hand over his heart, so you could feel the way it stuttered every time you spoke.

⋆˚꩜｡ So, when you denied him this pleasure, he was incredibly upset. His hand clasped dramatically over his chest, gaping like you had just threatened to break up with him.

⋆˚꩜｡ “You dare deny me the pleasure of your beautiful hands?!”

⋆˚꩜｡ You just chuckle, explaining that your hands have been unnaturally sweaty as of late. You show off your slicked palms, hoping the sight would make him drop the subject.

⋆˚꩜｡ However, as typical with Romance, you were wrong.

⋆˚꩜｡ He swiftly retreats into his bedroom, obviously going to retrieve something. He returns just moments later with a pair of silk clothes; the kind a princess would wear to a ball.

⋆˚꩜｡ Dawning the gloves with his usual melodramatic flair, Romance wastes no time grabbing your hand.

⋆˚꩜｡ Dipping into a low bow, he draws it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

⋆˚꩜｡ “There. Now I can hold my beloved’s hand without the risk of my hands getting clammy.”

⋆˚꩜｡ You can’t help but grin at his creative, albeit absurd solution. He always did have the most abnormal ways of solving simple problems.

⋆˚꩜｡ He leads you out of the house, gloves still on, his hand wrapped securely around yours.

Mystery Saja:

⋆˚꩜｡ He constantly needed to be touching you. Whether at a high-profile event, sleeping in his bed, or cuddling on the couch, Mystery had to be in contact with you at all times.

⋆˚꩜｡ When the two of you decided to go on a mid-morning walk through the bustling streets of Seoul, he instinctively reached for your hand.

⋆˚꩜｡ However, as if sensing his intentions, you gently bat his hand away, explaining that your hands were abnormally sweaty this morning.

⋆˚꩜｡ He stares at you through those lavender bangs, his expression unchanging. He slowly glances down at your hand, then to his, before returning to your face.

⋆˚꩜｡ Without another moment of contemplation, he wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

⋆˚꩜｡ If you were two embarrassed to hold his hand, he could respect that. However, his need to be in contact with you didn’t ease. So, this was his solution.

⋆˚꩜｡ For the entirety of the walk, he refused to let go. He truly couldn’t stand to be parted for even a moment.

[brithebri747]

Hi after reading you !Midwestern reader and the Saja boys with the Hurricanes, I wanted to ask since I’m from Texas and with hurricanes it’s either a heavy wind or extreme flooding there is no in between and me and friend used to go to play and wade in the brookes. So I wanted to ask maybe if you could right a !Midwestern reader with maybe head-cannons with all of the Saja boys (if not mystery and Abby are fine) and they/she could have friends who are just as horrible and reckless as she. Like reader is walking to the hurricane with a crumbl offering as her friends brink the soda and they get blown away. Like what would be the reactions from the Saja boys. if you can’t then that’s fine. Don’t forget to eat and drink something ❤️

-Twister Tamers-

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ϟ Abby and Mystery reacting to you and your friends charging head first into a stormϟ ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

-°• Contents: two headcanons on how Abby and Mystery Saja would react to you and your (crazy) friends wreaking havoc during a twister.

-°• Warnings: twisters, one mention of broken limbs

-°• Bribri Speaks!: first of all, thank you so much for the request!! I wanted to apologize for the late reply as well. I did end up only writing for Mystery and Abby. To be honest, I had a really rough time coming up with ideas for this!! However, I hope you still enjoy! Have a lovely day! ♡

-°• Request based on this fic!

Abby Saja:

˖*༄ You and your four friends were currently in the midst of the most death-defying water fight of all time. Ducking behind fallen trees and debris, you barely evade being hit by the water gun assault your friends had unleashed upon you.

˖*༄ Swirling around you was a minor EF-1 tornado, something that hardly counted as a whirlwind in your opinion; hence why you were out playing splash wars.

˖*༄ Abby, the sweet ignoramus, still felt unthreatened by swirling winds. So, when he finds you out in the streets, dodging water bullets and evading flying rubble, he can’t help but join in.

˖*༄ Scampering over to the poolside, Abby retrieves a squirt gun similar to your own. The high velocity winds elicit small waves from the pool, but Abby pays them no mind, intent on joining this daring battle.

˖*༄ Creeping around various displaced items, Abby draws closer to the shrieks and squeals of your friends; the sounds being dulled by the howling winds.

˖*༄ Upon reaching one of your friends, who was currently huddled up behind a car, Abby draws his gun and shoots, before disappearing once more. He leaves your friend in utter confusion of where the attack had stemmed from.

˖*༄ You catch a glimpse of that familiar fuchsia hair, knowing exactly who had attacked your stunned friend. You smirk slightly to yourself, continuing to dodge wayward debris and water darts.

˖*༄ By the end of the battle, when the tornado had dispersed, and all the water in your guns had been shot, you and Abby reconvene on your porch steps. Your house is littered in an assortment of other people’s belongings, including a frightened dog who scampered off at the sight of you two.

˖*༄ As the two of you sit on the porch, gazing out at the damage, Abby wraps an arm around you. Somehow, your home remained majorly unharmed. Even more shockingly, you two were alright, too, even after playing in the middle of a twister.

˖*༄ “How come you guys decided to have a mini water battle in the middle of a tornado?”

˖*༄ “It’s a bit of a tradition,” you shrug, leaning into his embrace. The friends in question were from Kansas, also known as Tornado Alley. You were all accustomed to the violent winds, so the occasional whirlwind was no cause for concern.

˖*༄ Abby grinned, loving the idea of that particular tradition

˖*༄ Later that night, once power finally returned, you found him scouring the online for multi-shot water guns.

Mystery Saja:

˖*༄ When he realizes you’re not home during a tornado watch, he knows your exact intentions; to go cause havoc with your friend. Having had to hold you back on multiple other occasions, the one time he hadn’t been around to stop you, you slipped away.

˖*༄ He grumbled under his breath, walking out into the violent winds like a tornado wrangler; intent on finding you and your psychotic friends.

˖*༄ He knew your exact destination; the eye of the tornado. Your friends had this annoying habit of driving directly into the twister. A habit you, unfortunately, had picked up on.

˖*༄ The second he spots that weathered pickup truck, he’s moving at inhuman speed. On most occasions, he did his best to keep his powers concealed. However, in situations where he felt like your life was threatened—which was often—he couldn’t care less about who saw him in his natural form.

˖*༄ He speeds over to you, wind whipping his bangs aside. Upon reaching the speeding truck, he can hear the whoops and hollers of excitement from your friends. Obviously, nearly dying was enjoyable for them.

˖*༄ Without missing a beat—and still running at speeds that put a race car to shame—he grabs the door. With slightly more force than necessary, he rips it off its hinges, letting it sail away in the powerful gusts. Then, just a millisecond later, he grabs your hand, yanking you out of the still moving vehicle.

˖*༄ You stand there, stunned. You couldn’t even begin to formulate words, the wind beating against your body as you watch the truck you had just been in drive directly into the high-velocity storm; without a door.

˖*༄ Mystery, on the other hand, appeared as though he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to yell, cry, or bark. Nonetheless, he grabs your hand, teleporting you both far from the rampaging twister.

˖*༄ The instant you’re both securely indoors, he’s locking all available exits; even windows. Once he’s sufficiently prevented your return to the storm-chasing, he corrals you into the bedroom, wanting to indulge in some safe cuddles.

˖*༄ Despite not verbalizing it, or even outwardly showing it, the thought of you being in harm’s terrified him. The thought alone made him cling to you tighter.

˖*༄ From then on, he strategically kept you away from those friends. Not only because they were bad influences, but because they had also attempted to lure you back into their death-trap of a tradition.

˖*༄ Though they had broken several limbs in the violent wind tunnel, majorly due to the unhinged door, they still insisted it was completely safe.

˖*༄ He was not about to have you get swept away like a rag doll.

˖*༄ The next occasion they show up on your doorstep, he beats you to the door. Stepping out, he takes a deep, calming breath, his face carefully neutral under his bangs.

˖*༄ Before you can even chase after him, he’s barking like a rabid guard dog, successfully scaring your deranged friends off your property.

˖*༄ Despite your annoyance and refusal to speak with him, Mystery felt quite proud of himself.

[brithebri747]

Could I please request a hurt/comfort where reader has been dating the boys (separate, but poly’s great too if you write it) unaware of their nature as demons? Reader finds out and feels used/betrayed and they have to explain that their feelings are really are genuine and then they cuddle? Thxx!!

-Truth Unveiled-

｡ ₊°༺The Saja Boys when you realize their true nature༻°₊ ｡

-°• Contents: a compilation of comforting headcanons on how the Saja Boys react to you finding out they’re demons.

-°• Warnings: slight angst (with comfort!), tears

-°• Bribri Speaks!: Thank you so much for this request!! I experimented with a slightly different style for this, so I hope you enjoy it!

Jinu Saja:

•❤︎₊ ⊹ It had been a minor argument; a spat, at worst. He had forgotten your date night. It was nothing relationship-endings, just a simple slip of the mind. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Jinu had been busy, you could understand that. It had bothered you that he hadn’t remembered the occasion, and he was irritated with himself for similar reasons. Nonetheless, it wasn’t a massive ordeal. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ However, the real trouble ensued when you saw a flash of gold in his eyes. A brief flicker. A momentary slip of his spell. But you had seen it. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Long ago, your parents had engrained the signs of demon-hood into your brain. After your aunt had her soul consumed by one of those devilish beings, your parents had been terrified it may happen to you, too.

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You gasp, a hand clasping itself over your mouth as you stumble back. You stumble back, nearly knocking the trash can over in your frightened back trodding.  

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Jinu had slipped. He see it in the horrified glimmer of your eyes. His own pair widened, and he holds an arm out, as if calming a cornered animal. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Sweetheart- wait-“ Before he can even finish that sentence, you launch a plate at his head, which he catches. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Are- you’re a- a-“ you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, your erratic heartbeat drowning out any logical statements. Tears welled in your eyes, the seeds of betrayal leaking down your cheeks and taking root in the floor boards. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You had told each other everything; your deepest thoughts, worries, fears. The fact he had hidden something this crucial hurt more than words could express. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You hadn’t realized you were on the brink of collapse till strong arms caught you on the way down. You vaguely feel him guide you to the couch, pulling you to rest on the familiar cushions. 

 •❤︎₊ ⊹ Jinu felt a familiar dread setting in his stomach, the same kind as when he forgot to take out the trash for the umpteenth time. He grabs you a glass of cold water, gently pressing it to your lips in hopes of grounding you. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ He kneels before you, his hand resting on your knee, watching you process his true nature in real time. He swipes at the tears treading down your cheeks, his heart aching miserably at the sight. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “How…how could you?” You finally choke out, staring at him with those glassy eyes. Their depths swirl with pure betrayal, showcasing every unbridled emotion that flits through your heart. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Sweetheart, this doesn’t change anything,” he says softly, trying desperately to reason with you. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “You’re a demon!” You hiss, utter devastation lacing every syllable. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “A demon who loves you very much,” he replies, gently squeezing your knee. This was his biggest fear since the beginning of your relationship. However, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you before; risking the ruin of this beautiful thing they had. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Your breath hitches at his words, your eyes widening once again. His declaration only causes you to cry harder, shaky, broken sobs wracking your whole body. Had you not been so emotionally wrecked, perhaps you would’ve been embarrassed for bawling in such a manner. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Jinu is instantly moving, wrapping his arms tightly around your form. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ For a moment, he fears you may reject him and pull away. However, much to his surprise, you curl closer to him, burying your snotty nose in his chest. His heart cracks at the loud wails you emit, gently carding his fingers through your hair. You could despise him, if you so desired, but he’d always be there to comfort you. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ When your sobs finally subside, the two of you lie there for a moment, just clinging to one another. After a long beat of silence, you speak up in that small, tear-addled voice. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “You love me?” 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Jinu couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that was the first thing on your mind after such a reveal. The pair of you hadn’t said that magical word yet, even six months into dating. You had wanted to save such heartfelt words for the perfect time. Yet, in a moment of pure desperation, Jinu had blurted it. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Yes,” he replies simply, continuing to carefully run his fingers through your tresses. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “In that case, you can stay,” you whisper, nuzzling your face back into his neck.

•❤︎₊ ⊹ He can’t help the small smile that graces his lips, his arms looping securely around you. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his cheek pressing against your hair. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “I’ll stay as long as you’d like.”

Abby Saja:

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You weren’t meant to be home. You had returned early from your typical morning run, sweat-slicked and breathing hard. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Evidentially, Abby hadn’t heard your entrance. Something you attested to the fact you could still hear his aggressive workout music blaring through his surround-sound speakers. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You pad through the house, heading straight to the source of the sound; his at-home gym. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ The moment you find him, shirtless and soaked in perspiration, you stop dead in your tracks. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ One would think you were simply admiring the beauty that was your dear boyfriend. However, the reality was that you had just discovered his skin was covered in violet tiger-stripes; the tell-tale signs of demonic nature. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Your water bottle clatters to the ground, the sound causing him to abruptly turn around. His eyes meet yours, and for a tense beat, the both of you can only stare in shock. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Then, without your consent, your legs are swiftly carrying you out of the room. Your body was acting purely on instinct; driven by a confounding mixture of hurt and betrayal. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Abby quickly trails after you, cutting you off at the intersection of the two halls. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Woah! Babe, wait, let’s just talk about this!”

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “About what?! The fact you’ve secretly been a demon?” You spit the words with unbridled venom, a tone you never thought you’d have to use on him. You attempt to push past him, but his arms wrap tightly around you. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “You’re not moving until we talk about this,” he states, tightening his vice-like grip around your body. You didn’t speak for a moment, hoping he’d relent when he saw your hesitance. Nonetheless, he held firm in his stance. He navigates over to the living room, maneuvering you to sit on the couch, his arm still firmly around you. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Look,” he sighs, running his free hand through his hair. “I’ve never done anything to harm you. I’ve never attempted to take your soul. I’ve always been careful with you.”

•❤︎₊ ⊹ He pauses, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts. His two fingers gently hook under your chin, tipping your chin to gaze up at him. The tears glistening in your eyes absolutely destroy him, and he tugs you closer, pressing a careful kiss to your forehead. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Does my identity have to change this? Us? Because I love you, no matter if I’m a human or a demon or a unicorn.” 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You can’t help the chuckle that bubbles from your throat at his silly remark, wiping at the tears leaking down your cheeks. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “No. I’m still upset you didn’t tell me, though,” you sniffle, finally returning his embrace. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “I’ll make up for it,” he replies, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. His arms tighten around you, slowly rocking you both back and forth. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “You’re such a dummy,” you snort. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Sureeee, babe. But I’m your dummy.”

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Mmmm. Yes. My dummy.”

Baby Saja: 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You had never seen Baby so frantic. He was always alternating between one of two personas; either his cute, child-like facade, or his typical sarcastic self. However, you had never seen him as truly desperate as he currently was. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ He was crying, for the first time in all the time you had known him. Both on-stage and off, you never saw him cry in such a manner. They were hideous, more unrestrained than the fat tears that leaked down your face. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Wait,” he gasped. This wasn’t Baby. This was a man of desperation. A man who was trying  to frantically cling to the one good thing in his life. “Please.”

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You didn’t stop, continuing your onward march to the door. You felt hurt. Betrayed. Violated. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Despite your determination to escape his grasp, the next words he utters cause you to pause. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Please. I need you.” 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Perhaps it was the sheer panic in his tone. Or maybe it was the fact you had never heard him so fearful, but you found yourself pausing your escape, turning to face him. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “You lied to me,” you say, valiantly attempting to keep your voice from trembling, but ultimately failing. “Why?”

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “No- I didn’t lie! I-“ he cuts himself off, realizing that another fib would only serve to dig him deeper into this trench. After a shaky, grounding breath, he gently takes your hands, tugging you away from the doors. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Because I was scared it would ruin everything,” he whispers. You had never heard him so vulnerable. Even in the most intimate of moments, he still had a barrier around his heart. Apparently, this was the barrier in question. “Because I love you too much.”

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “My life is constantly changing, from bad to worse. But you’re my one good thing.”

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Your breath hitches at his declaration, any resolve that remained quickly fizzling out. You practically collapse into him, your body wrapping tightly around his. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You didn’t know quite how long you had stood there, but it felt like an eternity. Both of your tears had ceased, leaving two trembling lovers in the moonlight. Baby clung to you as though you were the only thing tethering him to humanity as a whole. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ And perhaps, you were. 

Romance Saja:

•❤︎₊ ⊹ The pair of you had been in the midst of an amorous date-night; accompanied by dimmed lights and rose-scented candles. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Romance had been preparing this day for months; right down to the heart shaped strawberries. He had decided that tonight would be the night he informed you of his true nature. The mere thought had him quaking in his designer boots. However, he knew this revelation was inevitable, and he’d prefer if it came about on his terms. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ So, he had devised this perfect scheme. After the delicious dinner spread he had designed, he lead you into the bedroom. Not for anything scandalous, as one may assume, but for something far more intimate. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “My heart, I need you to close your eyes for me,” he whispers, his voice slightly more breathless than what you were accustomed to. Still, you comply, your eyes fluttering shut. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ In a plume of imperceivable smoke, Romance is metamorphosed into his natural form; fuchsia skin streaked with lavender. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Open your eyes.” 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ For a moment after your eyes refocus, you can’t quite process what you’re seeing. Your boyfriend is more pink than his hair, which was rather astounding to voice aloud. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “You…what?” You were more confused than anything, unable to reconcile this Romance with the one who had been here just moments ago. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “This may come as a shock, my love, but I’m a supernatural being,” he explains, gently squeezing your hands in an act of reassurance. “I’m a demon.” 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ The words take a long moment to sink in. And even as they do, it takes an even more extensive period for you to understand them.  

•❤︎₊ ⊹ There were no messy tears, no screams or cries. There was, however, a prolonged silence. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Beloved?” He asks, giving your hands another squeeze, drawing you out of your contemplative state. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “I’m thinking, Ro,” you explain, your eyes glazed with vaguely hidden thoughts. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “You’re not angry?” He inquires, rather stunned by this lackluster reaction. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “No,” you hum, a soft smile gracing your lips. You curl up against him, your legs tangling with his own violet-stained ones. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Shocked, but not entirely displeased with your response, he wraps his arms around you, tucking you close against his chest. He was internally overjoyed at your acceptance of his nature, a giddy smile tugging at his lips. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Frankly, I find it rather attractive.” 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Romance can’t help but chuckle softly at your admission. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Of course you’d find his nature attractive. 

Mystery Saja:

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You had been tidying up around the house, nothing abnormal for a Saturday morning. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Upon entering Mystery’s room to retrieve his laundry, you found his journal open on his neatly made bed. You hadn’t intended to snoop. However, curiosity killed the cat, and it certainly got its claws into you. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You tread over the his bedside, idly flipping  through the slightly browned pages. This venture was aimless, inquisitiveness winning out over logic. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Despite not having had intention in looking through the book, you quickly found something worth your full attention. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ Written in his familiar wobbly script, in plain sight, is a phrase that chills you to the bones. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ ‘How do I tell her I’m a demon?” 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You’re instantly furious and hurt, snapping the book shut and marching out to find him. The man in question was found reading a book in the living room, seeming incredibly tranquil for someone who was just revealed to be a supernatural creature. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You hurl the journal at his face, eliciting a quiet yelp from him. He stares down at the diary, then at you, then back at the journal. If he had any external reaction, you couldn’t tell, due to his long curtain-esc bangs. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “Wanna tell me something, demon?” You spit. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to seethe in fury or cry in anguish. Both feelings were quite prominent at this moment. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ He gazes up at you for a long moment, as if weighing his options. Without any verbal acknowledgment, a sudden poof of pink smoke is erected around him. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ The moment the smoke parts, and you can see him clearly, you gape. There, his soft, peachy skin you had traced so many times had been recolored magenta; marred with lavender scars and unnaturally glowing. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ He stands, taking your stunned silence as permission to move towards you. Then, without waiting for a response, he wraps his arms tightly around you, his chin resting atop your head. You can feel the erratic beating of his heart, which betrays his inner turmoil. 

•❤︎₊ ⊹ After a long beat of contemplation, you wrap your arms around him, returning the meaningful embrace. He feels significantly colder than usual, perhaps a testament to his demonic nature. However, he still smells like home; his hold a sanctuary.  

•❤︎₊ ⊹ “You deserve to see all of me,” he whispers, that soft, airy voice you so rarely heard gracing your ears. “No matter what I am, I still adore you.”

•❤︎₊ ⊹ You let out a shaky breath, burying yourself in his vice-like grip. You could ask your myriad of questions some other time. In this moment, you just needed him to hold you.

•❤︎₊ ⊹ And hold you, he did. 

Hey there readers! This was a long one, so thank you for making it to the end. Just a reminder that my request box is always open! And I’m currently working on my current requests. Thank you, and love you all! ♡

[brithebri747]

hey! i loved your "Operation Saja Party" fic, it was sooo sweet <33 so, if it isn't a bother, could you do one of the saja boys dating manager!fem!reader who has a daughter from her previous relationship? like, the daughter is 6 or 7 yo and the boys are a little (a lot) nervous about meeting the kid only for her to be a total sweetheart

if you don't want to make this, it's okay!! <3

-Meet the Kiddos-

⋆｡‧˚ ᪥ The Saja Boys meeting your kid᪥ ˚‧｡⋆

-°• Contents: a collection of sweet headcanons for the boys reacting to meeting your child for the first time.

-°• Warnings: none

-°• Bribri Speaks!: Thank you for the request!! It’s never a bother! I adore writing for this community, and kind people like you are the reason why ♡ I hope you enjoy!

Jinu:

-•ꫂ❁ He was sweating buckets, the undershirt of his outfit damp with perspiration. He stood waiting on the porch, the flowers he purchased wilting under the midsummer heat.

-•ꫂ❁ Today was the day he had been dreading for the past five months of your relationship: meeting your child.

-•ꫂ❁ According to you, your daughter, Lily, was nothing but sunshine, a trait she apparently took from you. However, Jinu couldn’t help but feel petrified for the moment that door swung open.

-•ꫂ❁ If Lily didn’t approve of him, he knew that it would mean the termination of your relationship; no matter how much you adored one another.

-•ꫂ❁ A few moments after his shaky knock, the door swings open, revealing your smiling self. He attempted to lift his lips into his typical cheeky smirk, but his face refused to cooperate.

-•ꫂ❁ “H-hey-“ he stammers out, passing you the flowers with a little too much force.

-•ꫂ❁ As if sending his nerves, you take the flowers in one hand, your other reaching for his.

-•ꫂ❁ “Babe, calm down. She’s going to love you,” you reassure, gently tugging him into your house.

-•ꫂ❁ He nods, though he can’t shake the lingering unease as you lead him to the kitchen, where Lily currently sat.

-•ꫂ❁ The both of you found her at the dining table, scribbling away in her unicorn coloring book.

-•ꫂ❁ “Hey, Lils. I want you to meet someone. This is Jinu,” you say, your smile broadening as you gesture to the man in question.

-•ꫂ❁ “Hello Mr. Jinu! Would you like to see my colors?” Lily asks sweetly, utterly oblivious to your boyfriend’s inner turmoil.

-•ꫂ❁ The sweet invitation caught him off guard, and he can feel some of the tension ease from his stance. He nods, still not trusting himself to string together a meaningful sentence. Sitting at the table, he gazes over her shoulder, taking in the thoughtful scribbles. Everything was noticeably outside the lines, but there was a charm about it.

-•ꫂ❁ “Oh wow, this is stunning. Pure art.”

-•ꫂ❁ “Thank you, Mr. Jinu!” She chirps, beginning to flip through the pages to show off her other works.

-•ꫂ❁ The remainder of the date was spent coloring; the three of you huddled around the table and fighting over crayons. Lily had produced two more matching coloring books for Jinu and you, insisting you color along with her.

-•ꫂ❁ Jinu was grateful he chose to wear his black shirt; because anything else would’ve been smeared with crayon by the end of the visit.

Abby:

-•ꫂ❁ He has to go on a six mile run around his apartment just to ease his nerves. He was practically buzzing with anxiety as he took off that morning.

-•ꫂ❁ Meeting your son was more daunting than meeting your parents had been. Your child was half you, and half of another man. You had firmly expressed at the beginning of your relationship that Niall—your ten year old boy—would always be your main priority, and Abby respected that.

-•ꫂ❁ However, now that the event of meeting him had actually come up, Abby didn’t feel prepared. He feared Niall would reject him, in so ruining his chances with the one woman he had ever truly been interested in.

-•ꫂ❁ When Abby finally returns to his apartment, soaked with sweat and panting, he instantly freezes when he finds you and Niall in his living room.

-•ꫂ❁ For a beat, all he can do is stare, silently regretting giving you a spare key.

-•ꫂ❁ He’s met with your gentle greeting, as well as a pointed look from the young man sitting next to you. In that moment, Abby wished to melt into the floorboards.

-•ꫂ❁ The little man in question pads over to Abby without a word, stopping before him and gazing up. Abby assumes that this is about to mark the end of your relationship; a breakup defined by a boy the size of his thumb.

-•ꫂ❁ “Woah. You’re like…ripped,” Niall mutters in absolute awe.

-•ꫂ❁ Abby is stunned by the child’s words, glancing between you and the boy, as if wondering what was happening.

-•ꫂ❁ “Oh, uh, thank you, kid. I work out a lot,” he manages to choke out, still slightly puzzled by the boy’s sudden remark.

-•ꫂ❁ “Wowwww! Could you teach me how to get muscles like yours?”

-•ꫂ❁ Abby hesitates for a moment, his gaze drifting to you for permission. He was still terrified of messing this up. However, when he sees your subtle nod and grin of approval, he agrees to the boy’s request.

-•ꫂ❁ The balance of the visit is spent with you watching your two boys workout, pleased that they had gotten along so splendidly. Watching Abby teach Niall little stretches had to be one of the most precious things you had ever had the privilege of witnessing.

-•ꫂ❁ Later that night, as the two of you are bidding Abby farewell, Niall once again speaks up.

-•ꫂ❁ “Mama, when can we visit the muscle man again?” He inquires from his spot in your arms. The workouts had completely exhausted him, which meant he insisted on being carried back home.

-•ꫂ❁ Abby all but beams at the nickname bestowed upon him, leaning against the doorframe with the goofiest of grins.

-•ꫂ❁ “Whenever you want, little man. I’ll even get you some dumbbells, next time.”

Baby:

-•ꫂ❁ He doesn’t show it, his anxiety carefully cloaked under a cool facade, but Baby is a nervous mess the whole concert.

-•ꫂ❁ You and your daughter, Willow, were going to be meeting him backstage after the show. He was dreading the final song, when he’d have to go backstage and meet your little tike. The whole ordeal made him want to fling himself from the stage.

-•ꫂ❁ When the final notes fade out, he slinks behind the curtain, doing his best to mask his trepidation.

-•ꫂ❁ The instant he’s hidden behind the velvet curtain, he’s embraced by a pair of tiny arms. He freezes upon impact, looking down at the tiny being that just barreled into him. He had never seen Willow other than in pictures, and he had certainly never met her. So, the bear hug was quite the shock.

-•ꫂ❁ You quickly follow her, wrapping an arm around him and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

-•ꫂ❁ “You did great, love,” you murmur against his temple, before gesturing to your daughter, who was still clinging to him. “I forgot to tell you she’s a big fan.”

-•ꫂ❁ On cue, Willow perks up from her place wrapped around the idol’s waist.

-•ꫂ❁ “Your rapping is my favorite part of all the songs!!”

-•ꫂ❁ It takes him a long minute to recover, but he eventually manages to recover his cool persona.

-•ꫂ❁ “Oh, yeah? You wanna learn, kid?” He asks, gently prying her off his legs so he could properly see her. Willow practically has stars in her eyes at his offer.

-•ꫂ❁ “YES! YES! TEACH ME!” She squeals, bouncing on the heels of her feet.

-•ꫂ❁ He leads her over to his dressing room, ignoring the various employees and managers flitting about. He has her sit at the vanity next to him, preparing to teach her how to rap.

-•ꫂ❁ Baby wasn’t fond of kids. He found them annoying and whiny. Yet, he dedicated the remainder of the time to teaching Willow how to rap.

-•ꫂ❁ By the end of the visit, she could spit bars without stumbling over vowels. Baby found himself rather smug over your daughter’s accomplishments, even if it was simple rapping.

-•ꫂ❁ Before he has to leave for his next performance, and while Willow is practicing lyrics, Baby’s arms snake around your waist. He leans down, his signature smug smirk on his face.

-•ꫂ❁ “If you’re not careful, you’re gonna have two of me running around.”

Romance:

-•ꫂ❁ He had prepared a whole monologue for this date; a theatrical display of why he was a good fit for Henry’s mother; you.

-•ꫂ❁ He perfectly cultivated the romantic, comforting atmosphere required for the events of tonight. The table had been dressed in a white table cloth, adorned with various flowers and pastries. He had even purchased a chocolate fountain for Henry to enjoy.

-•ꫂ❁ Based on the romcoms he had watched over the years, winning the children over was never an easy feat. One wrong move could mean the sad conclusion of a relationship.

-•ꫂ❁ Despite his preparation, the moment you and your small kid walked through his door, all declarations of undying devotion died on his tongue.

-•ꫂ❁ He felt his palms become slicked with sweat, his heart stuttering in his chest.

-•ꫂ❁ You stroll into the dining room, Henry shuffling in behind you, playing mindlessly on his iPad. Upon greeting him with a hug, you can sense the trepidation in his hold. He was anxious about this meeting.

-•ꫂ❁ “It’s ok, Ro. Don’t worry.”

-•ꫂ❁ When the three of you take your seats at the dining table, Henry swiftly switches from iPad kid, to standing on serious business. He straightens the collar of his dinosaur hoodie, as if he was preparing to deliver a keynote speech.

-•ꫂ❁ “Look, Mr. Romance,” he starts, locking eyes with the man across the table. He sits straighter in his chair, his hands steepled on the table. He was acting like the most prestigious of businessmen. “We gotta lay some ground rules before I let you touch my mum.”

-•ꫂ❁ You have to snicker at his little display of dominance, masking your amusement in a bite of pasta. Romance, however, had the pink flush drain from his face. The fact he was scared of a child who barely came up to his knee was rather pitiful, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.

-•ꫂ❁ “You gotta treat her good! I want mummy to be happy.”

-•ꫂ❁ Romance’s breathing returns to it’s typical pattern at the innocent request, leaning back in his chair.

-•ꫂ❁ “Of course, Mr. Henry. Your mother will be treated like a queen,” he states, glancing over at you with a fond smile. He gently squeezes your hand under the table, feeling his anxiety melt from his muscles.

-•ꫂ❁ “Good,” Henry hums in approval, going back to munching on his spaghetti. However, when he sees Romance lean over to peck your cheek, he screeches.

-•ꫂ❁ “And NO kissing!”

-•ꫂ❁ Henry’s sudden exclamation had the both of you laughing aloud, clutching your stomachs and doubling over.

-•ꫂ❁ Fortunately, after that incident, neither of you kissed in front of Henry again.

Mystery:

-•ꫂ❁ Mystery didn’t typically get nervous. It just wasn’t in his nature. He was typically calm and level-headed; always maintaining his mysterious atmosphere.

-•ꫂ❁ However, the concept of meeting your daughter made a feeling comparable to anxiety flare in his chest. His heart rate elevated, and his breathing pattern shifted to shallow intakes of air.

-•ꫂ❁ Your daughter, Eva, would be arriving home by bus in merely four minutes.

-•ꫂ❁ While you assured him that she would adore him, and his silent demeanor, he still feared the worst. He was worried that she would find him too quiet and boring for her mother.

-•ꫂ❁ His breath caught when the front door flung open, revealing a giddy eight year old girl. Eva.

-•ꫂ❁ “Eva, baby, I want you to meet Mystery,” you say, gesturing to the man in question.

-•ꫂ❁ Eva stared at him for a moment, shrugging her back off her shoulders before walking over. She gazed up at him with eyes so much like yours; ones he had come to adore seeing.

-•ꫂ❁ “You have pretty hair,” she quips, tilting her head. “Can I braid it please?”

-•ꫂ❁ Mystery froze when she asked, glancing up at you for some form of reassurance. You gently squeeze his shoulder, gently nudging him towards her.

-•ꫂ❁ “Sure,” he replies, in that soft, airy voice you adored so much. It wasn’t often that you were graced with his voice, but you were grateful he was trying for Eva.

-•ꫂ❁ He plops down on the floor, his back facing her so she had access to his hair.

-•ꫂ❁ She pleated the longest parts of his periwinkle locks, attaching clips and berets to the loose ends. By the end, Mystery looked like a fully-fledged decora model. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight of the enigmatic man covered in vibrant hair accessories.

-•ꫂ❁ Eva, on the other hand, was quite pleased with the result of his hair, cooing about how pretty he looked.

-•ꫂ❁ He didn’t say anything, as he typically did, but you could see the tips of his ears scorched red. And under the curtain of hair before his eyes, you caught a glimpse of a soft smile.

-•ꫂ❁ It was safe to infer that Eva’s new favorite pastime became decorating Mystery’s hair.

[brithebri747]

Hi!

I love your writings! you always deliver, and it has me kicking my feet giggling!

I was wondering if I could request the saja boys with a reader who does voice acting in movies but sometimes forget roles they have done, so when they settle in for movie night and one of the characters start talking they sound SO familiar and it drives the boys a little crazy until it clicks that it's reader?

-Who is that?-

-°• Contents: a set of headcanons on how the boys struggle to grasp who a voice actor is, when in reality, it’s just you!

-°• Warnings: none!

-°• Bribri Speaks!: Thank you so much for this request!! I absolutely loved writing the boys being flabbergasted. I did alter the idea slightly, but I hope you still like it!! ♡ (also, you’re so sweet, thank you for the kind words)

Jinu Saja:

⋆˚✿˖° After a long day of recording and choreography practice, Jinu longed to relax in front of the tv. He slumped into the couch, his half-drank boba discarded on the side table.

⋆˚✿˖° He recalled a fan recommending a show to him in the midst of a signing; one titled Estrella.

⋆˚✿˖° It was evidently dubbed after the main character, a young woman named Strella. Accordingly, she had found herself on a quest to the ends of the earth, with nothing but the northern star and her gut to guide her.

⋆˚✿˖° When he idly clicked onto the show, he half expected it to turn to background noise once he dozed off. However, he quickly deviates from that plan when he hears the voice of the main character.

⋆˚✿˖° Whoever was playing Strella sounded incredibly familiar to him. The voice was slightly more sonorous than what he was accustomed to, with a fleeting twang. Despite the familiarity, who voiced the character continued to evade him.

⋆˚✿˖° By the end of the introduction, he was practically ripping his hair out trying to ascertain the actress’s identity.

⋆˚✿˖° He had many renowned actors before, due to his status as an idol. Even so, this voice sounded more familiar, closer to his heart.

⋆˚✿˖° After a tedious struggle of trying to determine who played the animated character, he finally relents, unlocking his phone.

⋆˚✿˖° He meticulously sifts through the various actors who emerge from the search engine. When he finally finds the character he’s looking for, his jaw slackens.

⋆˚✿˖° The character was voiced by you. His sweetheart. He had completely overlooked the fact that you were a voice actor.

⋆˚✿˖° It was safe to say that he became far more invested in the series after gaining that morsel of knowledge.

Abby Saja:

⋆˚✿˖° Abby had recently become infatuated with this underground indie series from a few years ago. It followed the adventures of a lone-wolf main character who has the fate of the universe placed on his shoulders at merely 15. He’s commissioned for a dangerous quest to retrieve several magical artifacts, braving tremendous dangers on the journey. It’s incredibly action-packed, something Abby was enamored by.

⋆˚✿˖° In the sixth episode, while Abby is binging the show from the sofa, a new side character is introduced.

⋆˚✿˖° The character is incredibly bright and joyful, contrary to everything the main character embodied. However, it wasn’t the character itself that had his attention, rather the voice behind the character.

⋆˚✿˖° The voice sounded so utterly familiar, yet he couldn’t quite place who it was. He listened with rapt attention, attempting to discern who the voice belonged to.

⋆˚✿˖° The answer to his inquiry kept evading him, even as the episode finished. He was now trying more to figure out who it was than actually watching the show.

⋆˚✿˖° After two more episodes, Abby finally grasps who the actor is with a giddy squeal.

⋆˚✿˖° He all but bounds into your bedroom, beaming like a kid on Christmas.

⋆˚✿˖° “You’re the sunshine character!” He gasps out, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

⋆˚✿˖° He then proceeded to drag you from your room, forcing you to watch the show with him and gushing about how talented you are.

Baby Saja:

⋆˚✿˖° Television series, specifically animated stories, were Baby’s oasis. Whether he was idly scrolling through his phone while half-listening, or genuinely invested in the show, tv was one of the few solace he still had in the turmoil of being an idol.

⋆˚✿˖° So, he plops down in his typical place on the couch, the cushion having warped from him sitting there so often. He scrolls through the various recommended shows, since he just finished his previous one, before settling on a Naruto-reminiscent show.

⋆˚✿˖° It was relatively new, and he consequently knew very little about it.

⋆˚✿˖° Though he had intended for this show to be white noise as he worked on composing lyrics, the instant a familiar voice rings through the speakers, he pauses it.

⋆˚✿˖° That voice was achingly recognizable, even with the southern twang the actor employed. He stared at the tv, trying to uncovering who the actor was. Rewinding the beginning frames multiple times, his earns strain to pick up on who that was.

⋆˚✿˖° It took him a embarrassingly long beat to realize that it was you.

⋆˚✿˖° “Babes,” he calls lazily, wanting to confirm his suspicions. “Are you in the new anime? The one that’s like Naruto?”

⋆˚✿˖° When you affirm that yes, you are, he responds with feigned nonchalance; uttering a simple “cool”. However, he’s internally prideful to be watching something you had a hand in manifesting.

Romance Saja:

⋆˚✿˖° Romance—as his stage name may suggest—adores romantic anime’s. So, when his manager off-handedly mentioned a new one having just been released, he was all ears.

⋆˚✿˖° The second he arrived at his residence, he’s made a home for himself on the couch, flipping on the platinum screen before him.

⋆˚✿˖° He’s instantly enamored by the graphics, absolutely adoring the sweet, simplistic style of the show.

⋆˚✿˖° Despite his admiration for the animation, there was something nagging him as he watched.

⋆˚✿˖° Something about the main love-interest’s voice made him pause. It felt like a tune he couldn’t quite recall the lyrics to. He sat there, half-pondering, half-crying along with the whirlwind of animated emotions.

⋆˚✿˖° When you come home, exhausted and intent on seeing your amorous boyfriend, you find him looking particularly stumped from the couch. Your gaze flicks from him to the show, and it takes a moment for you to register the voice as your own.

⋆˚✿˖° “Hey, that’s me.”

⋆˚✿˖° You say it casually, but Romance gasps as though you had just revealed life-altering information.

⋆˚✿˖° A hand dramatically clasps over his chest, and he whirls around to gaze at you with wide eyes.

⋆˚✿˖° “You did a romance without telling me?!” He choked out in the most melodramatic performance you’d ever witnessed.

⋆˚✿˖° He essentially hauled you to the couch, forcing you to recount every deal of filming. He wanted to know every detail that went into the romance shows he held so dear.

Mystery Saja:

⋆˚✿˖° Mystery didn’t often watch television. He preferred to read or write. However, when he heard the rest of the group gushing about a new show that just came out, he couldn’t help but find himself curious.

⋆˚✿˖° That was why he found himself hunkered down on the couch, his fingers prodding the unfamiliar buttons of the remote.

⋆˚✿˖° After a moment of aimless searching, he finds the show he was looking for. With a pressing of his thumb, he flips the show on.

⋆˚✿˖° The plot felt dull and uninspired at a glance, so much so that Mystery retrieved his book from his room. Despite his apprehension, in the middle of the episode, his ears pricked at the sound of a recognizable voice.

⋆˚✿˖° He glances up from the book, staring at the speaking box as though it would tell him who the voice belonged to. Spoiler, it didn’t.

⋆˚✿˖° He watches slightly more attentively now, trying to discover who owned this voice. It was melodic in a way that made his heart skip; familiar in a mode that made his ears burn a loud red. However, the knowledge of who this actor was still undiscovered.

⋆˚✿˖° You walk through the door a few minutes later, carrying various groceries under your arms.

⋆˚✿˖° “Hey, Myst.”

⋆˚✿˖° The instant he hears your voice, he knows precisely who that character was voiced by. You. He looks between you and the screen.

⋆˚✿˖° You didn’t seem to notice the series on the television. And if you did, you didn’t mention your role in its creation.

⋆˚✿˖° He doesn’t comment on your appearance in the famed show, instead choosing to continue watching it.

⋆˚✿˖° Perhaps a show like THIS like this was more enjoyable than books.

[brithebri747]

hi!

I was wondering if I could request the saja boys with a Midwest! reader who is used to tornadoes and hurricanes, so when a really bad storm is blowing in, they're outside, and the saja boys are tearing hair out trying to get them back indoors?

-Tempest-

⌁₊˚⊹The Saja Boys with a Midwestern!reader⊹˚₊⌁

-°• Contents: headcanons involving the Saja Boys reacting to a reader who likes to weather storms (and give them anxiety)

-°• Warnings: storms, tornados

-°• Bribri Speaks!: Thank you for your request! I love unique ones like these. I hope you enjoy it!

Jinu Saja:

⋆｡°• ⛆ Never in his four hundred years of living had Jinu ever witnessed a hurricane. So, when he was ushered out of the studio and told he needed to seek shelter at home, his thoughts immediately darted to worst-case scenarios.

⋆｡°• ⛆ He envisioned cars being hurtled into the air, houses being torn down, towns getting leveled. In reality, the worst damage would be a few totaled cars and minor injuries, but Jinu didn’t realize that.

⋆｡°• ⛆ When he gets home, he’s practically hysterical looking for you. He knows he’d be alright. He is a supernatural being, after all. However, he’s incredibly worried for your safety.

⋆｡°• ⛆ When he finds you standing on the porch, sipping your peach tea in the midst of the storm like a modern-day Zeus, he’s frantic to get you back inside.

⋆｡°• ⛆ “SWEETHEART?! What’re you doing? You’re gonna get yourself killed!”

⋆｡°• ⛆ In your opinion, this was a minor storm. You had weathered far worse. It was rather amusing seeing him, someone who was typically charming and level-headed, acting so frightened and jittery.

⋆｡°• ⛆ Despite your amusement at his agitation, you didn’t want to give the poor guy a heart attack. He looked ready to combust at the sight of you outside. So, you finish off your tea and step inside, your hair wind whipped and slick with rain.

⋆｡°• ⛆ Once you’re safely inside, he wraps his arms around you as though you’d just returned from a decade-long war.

⋆｡°• ⛆ “What is wrong with you?! You could’ve DIED!”

⋆｡°• ⛆ You simply laugh it off, strutting back into the kitchen and explaining you had experienced far worse. Even in this dire situation, you expertly handle it with a grace Jinu rarely sees in the midst of life-threatening events.

⋆｡°• ⛆ He watches as you use a match to light the gas stove, asking if he wanted any tea.

⋆｡°• ⛆ He’s absolutely flabbergasted by your nonchalance in this situation. He’s internally panicking, and you’re asking if he wants tea; like this was a casual occurrence.

⋆｡°• ⛆ You maneuver him to sit on the couch, pressing a mug of hot tea into his hand. Before you can return to the kitchen, he grabs your hand, tugging you to sit next to him. Once you’re seated, his free arm wraps snugly around your shoulders, providing no room for you to wriggle away.

⋆｡°• ⛆ “For my sanity, you are NOT allowed to go back outside.”

⋆｡°• ⛆ The two of you spend the rest of the time huddled up on the couch, you reading by the candle light and Jinu attempting to calm his racing heart. He makes a mental note to keep a watchful eye on you the next time a storm rolls around. He doesn’t think he could endure another scare like that.

Abby Saja:

⋆｡°• ⛆ When he first hear the word tornado, Abby has absolutely no inkling what it means.

⋆｡°• ⛆ “Is that a type of pasta?”

⋆｡°• ⛆ His management, slightly concerned by his lack of understanding, quickly informs him it’s a dangerous natural disaster. Regardless of their various explanations, he still doesn’t comprehend the severity of the situation.

⋆｡°• ⛆ As he’s escorted back to his house, he’s just happy to have gotten off early. He watches from the car window as the rain batters the vehicle, awed by the lightning illuminating the skies. He doesn’t even register the people screaming and running, too enamored with the stunning natural display.

⋆｡°• ⛆ When he arrives home, seeing you lounging on the deck, unbothered by the downpour, he joins you. He pulls up a chair, plopping down next to you without a care in the world.

⋆｡°• ⛆ He enjoys watching the tree branches flail around, the violent winds flinging people’s belongings into the air. It’s like live entertainment, and he’s absolutely loving it.

⋆｡°• ⛆ Despite his utter contentment, the moment he sees a gargantuan tree sailing through the air, he begins to grow slightly concerned.

⋆｡°• ⛆ “Babe, maybe we should go inside.”

⋆｡°• ⛆ You shrug, still completely unbothered, but you let him draw you into the house.

⋆｡°• ⛆ The both of you spend the remainder of the twister indoors, playing board games by candlelight. You can hear the high velocity winds beating against the house, but the two of you are majorly unbothered.

⋆｡°• ⛆ You find it rather astonishing how someone who’s been around for nearly four centuries has never experienced a hurricane.

Baby Saja:

⋆｡°• ⛆ Contrary to his insistence that he’s weathered many a storm, Baby has never experienced anything worse than a light drizzle.

⋆｡°• ⛆ When he sees you outside, sitting on the swing-set like the downpour was inconsequential, he valiantly attempts to act composed. However, the sight of your hair whipping around and your clothes getting soaked was absolutely nerve racking.

⋆｡°• ⛆ “Hey, sweets, you wanna come in?”

⋆｡°• ⛆ He casually mentions the idea of coming inside every so often, even going as far as to bribe you with his lollipops. In actuality, he wants you safely inside your residence. He was practically yanking his hair out under his aura of nonchalance, stressed beyond belief.

⋆｡°• ⛆ When you at last agree to return to the house, your drenched garments dripping on the floor, he does fulfill his promise, passing you your lollipop.

⋆｡°• ⛆ “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

⋆｡°• ⛆ He teases you about being a storm-wrangler, his true relief cloaked under a carefully constructed air of calm. He helps you dry off, feigning annoyance at your dripping state. Really, he’s just glad you’re back unharmed.

⋆｡°• ⛆ You spend the rest of the tempest reading by your battery powered lantern. You were suddenly grateful you had kept your storm supplies when you moved here.

⋆｡°• ⛆ Baby lies with his head in your now-dry lap, griping about how his phone wasn’t working. You lend him yours, which had a myriad of WiFi-free games installed from your time in the Midwest.

⋆｡°• ⛆ He’d never been so grateful for Block Blast in his life.

Romance Saja:

⋆｡°• ⛆ Romance turns the whole ordeal into his personal soap opera. The instant he catches a glimpse of you standing in the thick of the storm, he’s transformed into the most experienced tragedy actor in existence.

⋆｡°• ⛆ He clings dramatically to the sliding door, the silk of his robe flaring out behind him like a cape. A hand clutched to his heart, he cries out to you.

⋆｡°• ⛆ “My heart! Please return to my side! I cannot bear this life without you!”

⋆｡°• ⛆ Despite his melodramatic flair, he’s genuinely worried for your well-being. He reaches out and grabs your wrist before you have the opportunity to respond, expertly twirling you into his arms and closing the door behind him.

⋆｡°• ⛆ Once safely indoors, he leads you to the bathroom, kicking the door open with a flourish. When he had received the warnings for a tornado, he had researched the best places to seek shelter. Since the two of you didn’t have a basement, the bathroom was the next best option.

⋆｡°• ⛆ Upon entering the dimly lit space, you find yourself in a perfectly curated, romantic date. The toilet has been transformed into a table, complete with candles and roses from god-knows where. The bathtub has been subjected to a similar treatment, fitted with a mattress, several soft blankets and pillows. The soap rack had even been repurposed into a fully-functioning snack container; your conditioners and shampoos having been replaced with your favorite foods and beverages.

⋆｡°• ⛆ The balance of the cyclone was spent munching on the prepared snacks and spending time together.

⋆｡°• ⛆ After this instance, it became a tradition to turn each natural disaster into a romantic getaway in the restroom.

⋆｡°• ⛆ “So, who’s preparing the romantic hideaway next time, dearest?”

Mystery Saja:

⋆｡°• ⛆ When he returns home to find you standing in the lawn, gazing up at the sky like it was the most interesting documentary you had ever seen, he yelps. Actually yelps. You had never heard Mystery make such a frightened sound in all the time you had known him. The noise frightened you more than the storm did.

⋆｡°• ⛆ He practically barrels out of his car, his bangs being parted by the wind, so you could see his concerned expression.

⋆｡°• ⛆ He doesn’t give you time to protest, swiftly scooping you up and whisking you into the house with inhuman speed.

⋆｡°• ⛆ Once inside, he doesn’t set you down. Instead, he’s staring at you like you had just unlocked the secrets of the universe.

⋆｡°• ⛆ Mystery had never truly been cowed until today. He was always calmly silent. However, in that moment, you saw something behind his lavender bangs that you had never observed before this moment. There was genuine fear in his eyes, in his stance, in the tension of his grasp. While he doesn’t voice it verbally, the signs of agitation are blatantly obvious.

⋆｡°• ⛆ Even as you explain storms like this were commonplace where you came from, he still refuses to let go.

⋆｡°• ⛆ When you finally coax him to let you down, he follows you like a shadow. You want to read by the fireplace, he’s in the armchair right next to you. You want to go to the restroom, he’ll be right outside the door, holding a pail of water so you can flush. Even when you don’t realize he’s there, he is, vigilantly observing every twitch and movement.

⋆｡°• ⛆ For the remainder of the storm, he refuses to let you out of his sight, too terrified of finding you back outside. If you even try to venture towards the door, he’s speedily steering you in the opposite direction.

⋆｡°• ⛆ “Angel,” he starts softly, stroking your hair. The storm had passed an hour ago. However, he still declines to relinquish his hold on you. “Please never go outside during storms again. I think you nearly gave me heart palpitations.”

[brithebri747]

Haii could I request saja boys with a disabled reader who hates their mobility aids? Like, their legs are very weak and they often exhaust themself moving around but they feel too embarrassed to be using anything like a wheelchair/crutches. I don't see many disabled reader fics LMFAO

-I Love You, and Your Pain-

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ •Saja Boys with an embarrassed, disabled!reader•⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

-°• Contents: A series of headcanons which focus on comforting a reader who struggles with physical disability, as well as embarrassment from using their aids.

-°• Warnings: minor mentions of the reader being talked down upon (not by the boys)

-°• Bribri Speaks!: Thank you so much for the request! At first, I wasn’t sure how to go about it, as I didn’t want to minimize or over emphasize anyone’s struggles with physical ailments. Despite that, I think it came out pretty well! I hope you enjoy it! ♥︎

Jinu Saja:

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Anytime you need him, he’s there. Any hour. Any place. He will show up for you, that’s a vow he made the moment he learned of your condition. He’s at every single appointment, either in the waiting room, or in the office with you.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ When the doctor informed the two of you you’d need aids, perhaps for the remainder of your life, he knew you’d be devastated. Despite your ailments, you’d always made the best of your situation.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ As he held you that night, his typical dorky, smug attitude faltered. His heart ached as you cried. All he could do was hold you. He felt helpless.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ The next day, you awaken to a selection of different aids, each custom, each unique to suit your needs. A wheelchair, a pair of crutches, a scooter, and several other modes of assistance you had never even seen.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ “You can use whichever you like, sweetheart. They’re all for you.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ He’ll gently guide you through each aid, explaining the customizations and how each part worked. He helped you size your crutches so they’d fit snug under your arms. He showed you the various bells and whistles of the wheelchair, even having had a cup holder installed. He wanted you to feel safe, no matter what mode of transportation you had to use.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Jinu knows you like the creases in his palm. He can tell you’re embarrassed, due to the rosy flush dusting your cheeks. The way you fiddle with the armrest of your wheelchair is a dead giveaway.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ He will never let you feel inferior to those who are more physically-abled than you. He always includes you in everything he does. He gets you private seats at his concerts, helping you into your chair before he runs onto stage. He brings you to his fittings, showing you all his outfits and asking for your input; anything to make you feel included.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ If you ask for more independence, perhaps some time walking around the house without your chair, he will allow it. He’ll be watching very, very carefully, though. While he’d never restrict you to your wheelchair or crutches, he still feels uneasy when he sees you clinging to the kitchen counter and wobbling around.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ “Be careful! The floor is slick”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Devotion wasn’t a word Jinu used to be familiar with. However, the moment he realized the extent of your disease, and the depth of his adoration for you, he found himself hopelessly devoted to you.

Abby Saja:

⋆.𐙚 ̊ He’s always exceedingly gentle with you. He’s a rather strong, large man, and he’s terrified of harming you. While he doesn’t see you as fragile, he thinks of you as something precious that he needs to protect. That includes when it comes to your use of aids.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ If you’re embarrassed about your wheelchair or crutches, don’t worry! Abby will ensure you feel comfortable in your sickness. He’s the type of person to use crutches, even if he doesn’t need them, just to make you feel less unordinary.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ “What?! I don’t look silly! I look hot!”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ On occasion, when the two of you go out, you stubbornly refuse to employ your wheelchair. It bothers him, but he refuses to take the little mobility you still have. Despite your instance that you’d be alright, halfway through, you’re exceptionally exhausted, your limbs feeling like pure lead.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ He will swiftly scoop you up and position you on his back. Piggyback rides had become a rather common occurrence for the two of you, so this wasn’t exactly abnormal. However, he preferred when you used your aids. This wasn’t because he disliked carrying you, but rather because he adored when you had personal freedoms; one being freedom of movement. You couldn’t have that when you were wrapped around him.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ In an effort to get you more comfortable with the concept of using an aid consistently, he’ll have you come to slightly discreet public places with him. Perhaps the gym for the Saja Boys’ rehearsal or the recording studio. He’ll give the boys express instructions—which all but Baby manage to fulfill—to be kind and complementary to you.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ If you’re in too much pain one day, unable to even uncurl from the fetal position, he will drop everything. His concert for the night is cancelled. Plans are put on the back-burner. He turns off his phone, his whole focus being you and your comfort.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ He will bring your favorite warm beverage, as well as some medication to ebb the pain. Switching on a movie to take your mind off the discomfort, he’ll tuck himself behind you, not touching unless you ask him to. All he wants is to be there for what you need. Anything you need.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ “I’m here, babe. It’s gonna be ok.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Essentially, Abby embodies the stereotypical ‘gentle giant’ archetype. He will hang on your every whim, listen to every request and desire you voice. He refuses to let you suffer alone; and so long as he’s alive, you never will.

Baby Saja:

⋆.𐙚 ̊ One of the few times he actually shows he’s concerned for your health, is when you’re unable to walk.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ The concept of you not being able to move petrifies him. Despite his best attempts to keep his nonchalant facade in place, you can see glimmers of anxiety shining through the cracks.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Whenever you collapse, he’s instantly there to catch you before you plummet. He murmurs a slightly exasperated, “use your aid, sweets,” before returning to whatever he was doing, as though it never happened. He doesn’t want to embarrass you with his overbearing presence.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ At first, he does little things, still wanting to maintain his idol persona. He leaves your wheelchair by the couch in hopes you’ll use it. However, if you refuse to use it when you get up, wobbling to the kitchen for a snack, he will most definitely try to find more creative solutions.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ He leaves your medications in easy-to-reach places and discreetly massages your weakened muscles when you sit together. A casual hand on your thigh could actually be him trying to soothe you. Nonetheless, you still can’t walk for long on your own, exhausted by simple movements. By the time you next collapse, he’s grown even more anxious under his unbothered mask.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ “Look, I understand you don’t like them, but you need them.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ When you explain how abashed the aids make you feel, he understands, letting a ripple of care seep through the surface. He understands how you despise feeling dependent on objects to help you. He’ll press a rare kiss to your temple, gentle and full of comfort.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ The next day, he comes home with crutches. They’re discreet, and allow you more mobility and freedom than the wheelchair did.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ When you finally, finally, begin using them to aid you in getting around, he practically glows with pride and joy. He pads over to you, taking in the sight of you on the crutches, silently proud of himself. You look significantly more comfortable, too.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ “Finally, dude. Took you forever to be willing to use them.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ If anyone has the audacity to make fun of you for your aids, he will not hesitate to start a riot. He wouldn’t ever hesitate to square up to protect your honor. He’s fiercely protective when he wants to be.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ When you get home, he won’t say anything directly, but he’s secretly agitated. He’ll gently pull you into his arms once you settle on the ottoman, his chin resting atop your head. He does his best not to grind his jaw, but it’s plainly obvious he’s rightfully irritated. You don’t exactly know where this flurry of protective cuddles came from, but you’re completely willing to indulge him.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Though he’s acts unattached, he truly would do anything to make sure you feel safe in your own skin. When you’re hurting, he would do all he could to help you feel even the slightest bit better.

Romance Saja:

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Romance sees the whole ordeal as a trial in your love story; the universe’s way of testing if the pair of you can withstand the intensity of your condition.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ When you’re too embarrassed to leave the house, Romance will create the most wholesome at-home dates. The table will be set with a wine red table cloth, topped with your favorite candles and flowers. Jazz flows through the air like a private symphony. You can smell your comfort food baking in the oven, the scent wafting through the house. The whole atmosphere radiates love and care. He doesn’t mind if you’re at home or in the most opulent restaurant, he just wants you to feel special.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ “Oh! I just whipped this up when I realized you wanted to stay home!”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Romance decorates your wheelchair or crutches upon your request. He would even be willing to get you multiple pairs of them, each stylized to match your various outfits. They range from simple decorations to more ornate designs. The end result is a whole wardrobe of all your different crutches and wheelchairs.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ When you cry, he will cry with you, his arms tightly looped around you. His heart aches, and he longs to take this torment from you. He wraps his arms around you like a supportive vice, quietly cooing about how he’ll always be by your side.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ “I’m so sorry, my heart. I wish I could take all the pain from you.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ When the two of you go out, he still holds your hand, as if you were walking beside him. He doesn’t want you to feel different than any other couple.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ In the event that someone taunts you for being disabled, Romance won’t say anything in the moment, aside from a sharp, “don’t speak to my beloved like that.” However, when the both of you are homeward bound, he’s plotting a dramatic revenge ark.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ He makes a post on all his socials, broadcasting the incident to his millions of loyal followers. Of course, he deliberately avoids mentioning the person’s name from privacy. Even then, people quickly begin speculating who the post’s antagonist was. A few fans even saw the incident occur. The offender speedily found themself being bashed over the internet. Romance assured they got black-listed from any future Saja Boy events.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Concisely, yes, your love can thrive even in the most dire of circumstances. Romance has ensured that.

Mystery Saja:

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Mystery quietly supports you. He offers a hand when you’re struggling to rise from your seat, carefully steadying you. He will keep your emergency medications in his pockets, always prompt to assist you in the event of a nasty pain flare.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Simply put, Mystery absolutely loathes your condition. It’s not because he blames you, but he despises the way you struggle to even maneuver around your own home. His heart aches desperately for you.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ He silently observes the way you obstinately refuse your aids, watching as you stumble sluggishly around the living room, trying to get ready for his concert.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ He then makes a split-second decision, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you bridal style to your room. Even as you ask why he had suddenly whisked you away, discombobulated by the sudden loss of your footing, he just keeps walking. He kicks the door open, before gently setting you on the plush mattress.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ “Concert doesn’t matter. I’m not going until you use your crutches.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ You protest, explaining that his fans will be upset if he’s not there. However, he refuses to budge on the matter, until you’re left with no choice but to relent. You didn’t want a hoard of his angry fans coming after you. They were quite intense and scary sometimes.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ After the concert, he’ll lean down, still in his stage attire, and wrap his arms around you.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ “Thank you, angel.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ He will silently massage your sore, exhausted muscles. If you require it, or can’t stand in the shower, he will run you a bath, filling it with your favorite essential oils and bathing salts. He helps you run the warm water over your body, cleansing any grime and easing the ache in your limbs.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Mystery, though quiet, would go to the ends of the earth for you. His affection is noiseless, but his actions speak volumes louder than any words ever could.

[brithebri747]

I was wondering if I could request the saja boys with a manager! reader who comes to them and asks super last minute if they could come to their child's birthday party because the theme was changed to saja boys like a week out from the date of the party? I think this would be a really cute idea!

-Operation Saja Party-

-°• Contents: a short, fluffy imagine where manager!reader asks the boys to attend her daughter’s party.

-°•Warnings: none

-°•Bribri Speaks!: Thank you so much for requesting! I had a blast brainstorming ideas for this! I hope you like it. Theres a lot of Baby in it, so if you don’t feel satisfied with it, feel free to reach out to me and I can tweak things for you! ♡

“I know it’s not ideal, but it would mean the world to me if all of you came to her birthday,” you explain, choosing your words deliberately, as if pitching an idea to a board of business executives. You look at each boy in turn, watching their emotions range from excited to downright perturbed.

You knew that a few of the members—namely Baby—weren’t fans of children, especially large hoards of them. However, you still wanted to ask them to come to your daughter’s birthday, if only for ten minutes. 

Your darling daughter, precious as can be, had decided to change her theme last minute. Upon learning about the Saja Boys’ existence, having seen them performing on tv, she became obsessed with everything Saja-related. A few days ago, she’d sweetly asked if she could have a Saja Boy themed birthday party, and of course, ever the push over, you indulged her. 

As a final gift to her, you decided to see if the Saja Boys themselves would be willing to attend her party. Her seventh birthday only came once, and you wanted to make it perfect for her. 

Since you were their manager, and since they had grown rather fond of you over the past few months, you hoped they would agree to come. 

Most of the group members agreed, Jinu and Abby both with excited grins.

Mystery and Romance agreed more reluctantly. Though, the latter had a slight smile ghosting over his lips. 

Be that as it may, Baby, ever stubborn, consistently refused no matter what angle you tried. Bribery, guilt-tripping, anger; no matter what method you employed, he refused to budge. 

Upon seeing the firm frown and shake of the maknae’s head, you sigh, your shoulders slumping in slight defeat. This was the umpteenth time you had had this conversation with him, each time with the same result. 

“Look,” you start, your voice softer. You were hoping that tugging on his heartstrings—however nonexistent they may be—would help change his stance on the matter. “I know you hate kids. I get it. But if not for my daughter, at least do it for me.” 

He glances up from his phone at that, gazing up at you as if truly seeing you for the first time. He discards his lollipop in the nearby trash with a heavy sigh, before letting out an exasperated, “fine.”

You all but jump with joy when you hear his begrudging acceptance, a massive smile stretching your lips. Joy wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what you felt. You practically tackle him in a tight bear hug, lifting him off the couch he was lounging on in the process. 

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you gush. “I promise I’ll buy your favorite lollipops and keep the kids to a minimum.” 

The other boys chuckled at your exuberance from Baby’s reply, Abby even letting out a short whoop of joy. 

Baby did his best to act annoyed, but he couldn’t deny the slight smile that graced his lips as he returned your hug. 

“Yeah. Whatever.” 

A few days later, at the birthday party, the whole Saja group was present. Abby was easily one of the most eager, giving kids piggy back rides and spinning them around. Meanwhile, Romance was talking with some of the younger girls, applying their “princess” makeup. He was actually having a rather grand time, it seemed, despite his original hesitance. 

Jinu, surrounded by giddy little girls on the disco floor you had installed, was having the time of his life performing karaoke. In an effort to not make the girls feel less talented, he purposefully sang in the most atrocious out-of-tune key you had ever heard. But it made the young girls smile and giggle at his seemingly awful voice. 

Mystery had slightly come out of his shell. Though he still wasn’t speaking too much, he let the girls clip bunny and flower-shaped hair clips into his long bangs. The tips of his ears were scarlet, a subtle nod to his embarrassment. Still, he allowed them to pleat and decorate his hair to their heart’s content. 

Baby, for once, had actually left his phone at the studio. He sat in a corner, a nearly imperceptible smile gracing his lips every time a kid asked for one of his lollipops. Despite his insistence that he loathed children, anyone who knew him well enough could see he was having a good time. 

You found it amusing how utterly miserable he had been on the way here; griping and groaning about kids with sticky fingers. However, now that he was here, surrounded by the kids in question, he was actually enjoying it.

When it comes time for the cake cutting, the boys, including Baby, all crowd around the long table of girls, singing along. 

When Baby sees the pure excitement you radiate, he cant help but feel happy he showed up.

All of the boys, in one form or another, truly valued your happiness. 

They supposed this was the least they could do for you; especially after everything you had done to get them where they were. You had spent countless nights making calls to get their venues secured; hundreds of hours invested in their well-beings. 

And as your daughter blows out her seven candles, they knew they’d do it all again next year, if you asked. 

Even Baby. 

[brithebri747]

I couldn’t find a rules list, so I hope this is okay. Sorry if it isn’t. So I have super, super sensitive skin and literally everything will give me a rash. It’s an actual struggle since I get a reaction even if I’m just resting my arm somewhere someone had lotion on their hand and I have to carry wipes (super embarrassing btw). I haven’t been able to find any fics with a character with skin like mine, and your writing is just so adorable that I’ve plucked up the courage to request some headcanons with the Saja Boys with a lover with sensitive skin. Please indulge me if you have the time. Tysm!!!!! 💙💙💙💙

-Sensitivity Positivity-

˚₊‧꒰აThe Saja Boys with a lover who has sensitive skin໒꒱ ‧₊˚

-°• Contents: A series of fluffy headcanons regarding how the Saja Boys would react and take care of you if you have sensitive skin!

-°•Warnings: mentions of rashes and pains, but other than that, just fluff!

-°• Bribri Speaks!: First of all, thank you so much for requesting! I’m honored that you felt comfortable enough to request from me!! Second, I’m so sorry you have to deal with that, that’s awful. I hope you can find some comfort in my writing ♥︎ I researched skin conditions a bit for this piece, but if there’s anything inaccurate, let me know!

-°• Pink is for the boys speaking

Jinu Saja:

₊˚⊹ ᰔ At first, he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, or why you keep getting these blotches on your skin. He doesn’t pay them much mind, knowing that if something is wrong, you’d let him know. Even then, he’s still slightly confounded by your need for special body washes and products.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Despite his initial confusion, once you sit down and explain the nature of your condition, he becomes the most careful person.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ He will actually thank you for telling him, as he feels incredibly honored you trust him enough to let him into this part of your life. His true caring nature and adoration for you are brilliantly highlighted in this moment; showcasing the sweet boyfriend behind the cocky idol persona.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ “Thank you for telling me, sweetheart.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ He began to stock the house with the brands of sensitive skin body wash, moisturizer, as well as wipes that you need. He’s always checking—sometimes before you even do—if you need more supplies. The second you’re even slightly low on one of the commodities, he’s rushing to the store to get you more.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ When you’re having a particularly nasty flare, he wants to be there to comfort you. He wants to be the—cleaned—shoulder you lean on.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ In essence, Jinu will become your walking pharmacy. He will wait on your hand and foot if need be. The moment even a hint of a rash shows, he’s at your side, rubbing ointment into the affected skin.

Abby Saja:

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Upon hearing of your condition, Abby is a little bit shocked. He doesn’t know exactly what to do with this information. However, if you choose to show him one of the itchy rashes currently plaguing your skin, his ‘protective boyfriend’ switch instantly goes off.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ He’ll ask you a billion questions, not to be judgmental, but rather because he wants to help you however he can.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ If you ever get self-conscious about carrying wipes or other products you may require, don’t worry, he’s got you! He will absolutely carry anything you give him with all the pride of a male peacock.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ “Babe, seriously, if I can’t carry what you need, I’d be a pretty crappy boyfriend!”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ If you’re ever in pain, or the itchiness becomes too incessant, he’s at your side in an instant. His location is no longer of any importance; the moment you call, he’ll drop everything and go to you.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Abby offers gentle comfort, letting your head rest on his chest while he carefully rubs your back. He’s cautious not to wear any clothes or colognes that may trigger a reaction. He’d be unable to forgive himself if he was the cause of your pain.

Baby Saja:

₊˚⊹ ᰔ When you first tell him, he finally draws his face out of his phone, only to stare at you blankly.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ “Cool.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ He acts infuriatingly nonchalant about the whole thing. However, the moment you’re out of sight, he’ll log into his computer and begin researching ways to help people with sensitive skin. He’ll delve into articles on treatments and cures, even going as far as to message the Saja Boy’s personal physician for advice.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Though he’s unwilling to show it, he finds himself constantly anxious about your outbreaks. He worries that you may suffer alone, without him.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ To aid that, whenever he finds you sitting alone, perhaps reading or watching tv, he’ll slip down next to you, his hand resting on your thigh. While it may seem like an absentminded occurrence, the movement helps remind him that you’re okay.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ He silently leaves the products you need around the house, acting as though he had no hand in putting them there. When you begin to run low on a product, you mysteriously find a pristine new bottle replacing your old one in the cabinet.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ If you ask him whether he bought it or not, he will deny it without looking up from his device. However, when he thinks you’re not looking, you swear you can see the ghost of a smile gracing his lips.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ “Pffft. What? Me? Are you for real, right now?”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Should you choose to investigate more, perhaps checking his browser history or recent purchases, you’ll find that he’s been meticulously researching the best brands to help with your ailment.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ He genuinely cares for you more than he’s willing to admit. If you once again inquire about the magically appearing products, he will refuse to give up any information. Baby will deny it till the day he dies, all in the name of keeping up his image, but he undeniably values your well-being.

Romance Saja:

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Romance is the type of man that cries when you cry, aches when you ache, broods when you brood.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ So, the moment you pluck up the courage to inform him of your condition, he’s mortified, asking if there was anything he could do to make daily life less harmful for you.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ “I’m so sorry you have to deal with that, beloved.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ He immediately drops any and all scented products he uses. Whether it be, cologne, lip balm, or lotion, it’s all excess to him now. When his fellow members ask why he’s suddenly lost his signature expensive scent, he simply explains that he no longer enjoyed the smell. He’ll never talk about your condition unless you expressly give him permission to.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ For your dates, he begins cleaning every surface you will be near or against. Similarly, he begins purchasing unscented candles and fake roses, all in an effort to protect you from the gnarly rashes.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ If you’re willing and comfortable, he will help you shower, always careful to avoid particularly affected skin. Ensuring he had nothing harmful on his lips, he’ll press soft, adoring kisses to each and every mark. He wants you to understand that you’re still absolutely perfect in his eyes, even with an ailment like this.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ If you’re uncomfortable with him aiding you in that way, he’ll understand. He’s not offended in the slightest, instead choosing to wait outside for you. When you return, he’s sitting on the sofa with open arms and a clean blanket, ready for anything you may ask of him.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ “Of course, my heart. I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Anytime you’re having a bad day, he will hold you till it feels better. If you cry, he’s crying with you. This isn’t because he wants you to feel guilty for your pain, rather that his emotions are so deeply entangled with yours that he can’t bear to see you hurting.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ He’ll gently stroke your hair till the burn or itch recedes, refusing to let go even once you affirm you’re ok.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Romance will hang on your every whim, gentle, cautious, but undeniably affectionate. He never wants you to suffer alone.

Mystery Saja:

₊˚⊹ ᰔ He noticed before you had the opportunity to tell him, silently observing the way you were exceedingly careful with what you touched. He saw how you always produced these small wipes before coming in contact with any surface. He notices everything.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ When you directly tell him, he’ll just tilt his head, uttering a simple, “I know. I got you a new package of wipes this morning.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ You’re honestly stunned how much attention he pays you, even when you’re unaware that he is.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Mystery is silently supportive; always around when you need a shoulder to cry on, always willing to get you more products.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ If anyone ever teases you for using your wipes in public, he will quite literally bark at them until you tell him off. He is exceedingly protective of you, especially when you’re subjected to such taunting.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ When you are struggling with your rashes, he will gently pull you to sit on the bed, before gathering your various ointments from the cupboard. He will kneel before you, gingerly dabbing the creams over the angry red skin.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Mystery offers the quiet version of care; ever-present and always attentive to your needs.

[brithebri747]

-°•𓆉 Bri’s Oasis 𓆉•°-

Welcome travelers, to Bri’s Oasis!

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

You must be tired from your journey. Take a seat, maybe order a drink from our world famous Tiki Bar (request box). There, you can order from a wide selection of sweets and drinks! Each beverage and pastry is made in house, with your unique tastes in mind! Perhaps you’ll find a new favorite.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

As for rules with orders at the Tiki Bar, we only have a few! We prefer to keep everything clean here, so we won’t be taking any orders including explicit smut/nsfw themes. Our author happens to be a minor, so we like to keep everything sfw. If there are mildly suggestive (making out, kissing, cuddles) themes, maybe we’ll accept! However, we will never write smut.

Similarly, we don’t take requests if the customer is rude or unkind.

Please ensure you state which character(s) you want me to write for! And if you’d prefer it in headcanon or imagine style.

Other than that, we love receiving orders!

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Once you’re settled, you can take a look at our Ancient Brivarian Library (masterlist)! It contains a myriad of stories, all authored by our founder, Bri. Each is one of a kind. In her spare time, Bri typically writes for several fandoms, all of which can be found at the library! Make sure to explore the entirety of the sprawling archives, you wouldn’t want to miss a hidden gem!

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

You want to know more about the founder? That’s lovely, I’m glad you asked! Bri is a 17 year old traveler herself, with an affinity for art, baking, crochet, and history! Her loyal ESA, a fluffy golden retriever by the name of Grayson, is always by her side as she pens her stories.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

As for any images or banners you find in her fics, Bri does NOT take/create/own any of the pictures used unless expressly said otherwise. All banners have been found on Pinterest or Google. The images are collages, made by Bri, but the pictures in said collages still belong to the original owners.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Alright, that’s all for now! Have fun exploring, travelers. If you have any questions, I’ll be here for you to consult!

[brithebri747]

-°•Brivarian Library•°-

‿︵‿ 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 ‿︵‿

🐚 -» Headcanons 🌊 -» Series

🪼 -» Fluff 🐠 -» Comfort

🐡 -» Angst 🦑 -» Imagines

‿︵‿ 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 ‿︵‿

-°•Fandoms•°-

• Kpdh • Love and Deepspace

• Percy Jackson • Greek Mythology

• Others (upon request)

-°•Kpdh•°-

All Saja Boys:

-°• Warm Awakenings: 🐚🪼

• Mornings with the Saja Boys

-°• Cuddle Bug: 🐚🪼

• How the Saja boys would like to cuddle you

-°• Sensitivity Positivity: 🐚🪼

• How the Saja boys react to a reader with skin sensitivity—(req)

-°• Operation Saja Party: 🦑🪼

• A short story about the Saja Boys being invited to the seventh birthday party of their manager’s daughter—(req)

-°• I Love You, and Your Pain: 🐠🪼

• How the Saja Boys react to and take care of a disabled reader—(req)

-°• Tempest: 🐚

• This is how the Saja Boys react to a midwestern!reader who likes to weather storms (and give them anxiety)—(req)

-°• Who is that?: 🐚

• The Saja Boys find a new animated show to binge! However, something about one of the character’s voices sound oddly familiar—(req)

-°• Meet the Kiddos: 🐚🪼

• How the Saja Boys react to meeting your child from a past marriage! They’re incredibly nervous before the meeting, frightened your kid may not approve of them. However, they’re quickly proven wrong when they meet your little sweetheart—(req)

-°• Truth Unveiled: 🐚🐡🐠

• When you find out your beloved was hiding their true nature all along.

Abby Saja:

-°• Twister Tamers: 🐚🪼

• How they react to you and your insane friends driving headfirst into a twister.

Mystery Saja:

-°• Twister Tamers: 🐚🪼

• How they react to you and your insane friends driving headfirst into a twister.

Saja Series:

-°• Fated in the Stars: 🐡🌊

• A story which gives the five Saja Boys backstories. It explains how they met the reader in the past, and came to know them in the main Kpdh timeline.

- Poison Gilded Roses—pt. 1—Romance

-°•Love and Deepspace•°-

Caleb:

-°• Guardian of Dreams: 🪼

• A comforting imagine about Caleb comforting the reader after they had a nightmare.

Sylus:

-°• coming soon!

Xavier:

-°• coming soon!

Rafayel:

-°• coming soon!

Zayne:

-°• coming soon!

-°•Bri’s Thoughts and Imagines•°-

Thoughts:

-°• Society Build on Starsigns: 🦑

• A concept writing based on the idea of people’s lives being directed by what constellation their birthmarks resemble

[brithebri747]

-Cuddle Bug-

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆Cuddles with the Saja Boys⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

-°• Contents: a series of fluffy headcanons talking about cuddles with your favorite rising kpop group

-°• Warnings: none, simple fluff!

Jinu Saja:

⊹₊⟡⋆ Jinu likes to cuddle with your face tilted towards him, his arms wound tightly around you to stroke your back.

⊹₊⟡⋆ He wants to be able to see every emotion that crosses your face as you rest; every dream, every nightmare, every fluttering of your lashes.

⊹₊⟡⋆ He likes seeing all the goofy faces you make in your sleep. He enjoys hearing your incoherent murmuring as you doze off.

⊹₊⟡⋆ He wishes to be the first person to comfort you in the event of a nightmare, the first person you alert when you need something. If you’re facing him, his wish is granted.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Similarly, Jinu himself suffers from night terrors about his mother and sister. They’re rather frequent. Though, he seems to get them less often in your presence. When he has them, you being the first thing he sees grounds him. You don’t even have to wake up and comfort him—though he appreciates when you do—just your presence is a balm to his soul.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Snuggling up on the couch while watching sickeningly sweet romcoms is his favorite (Jinu is a romcom lover, though he’d never relay that information to anyone but you).

⊹₊⟡⋆ He likes having you lie on top of him, your cheek smushed up against his chest as he gently plays with your hair.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Cuddles with Jinu are typically a very warm and comforting experience; like a warm cup of cocoa on an autumn day.

Abby Saja:

⊹₊⟡⋆ Abby quite literally lies on top of you like a starfish. His arms and legs splay over your entire body, like one of those tacky bearskin rugs you’d find at a hunting-supply store.

⊹₊⟡⋆ It’s not even accidental, like he had rolled over in his sleep, no, this was intentional popping of your personal space bubble.

⊹₊⟡⋆ He was always careful to keep from completely crushing you. After all, he was a rather large muscly man, and you were so tiny compared to him

⊹₊⟡⋆ He likes listening to you squirm while he pesters you about how small you look when he’s lying on you like this. He thinks it’s utterly hilarious how flushed and annoyed you get with him.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Though he will lie on top of you while he’s awake, the moment he falls into a state of unconsciousness, he’s rotating like a Costco-style rotisserie chicken.

⊹₊⟡⋆ One moment, he’s on his side, his arm looped lazily around you. The next, he’s on his stomach, drool seeping from his lips and half a rotation away from tumbling off the bed.

⊹₊⟡⋆ This man is a tornado, even in his unconscious state.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Abby is a massive fan of cuddles, though he can’t hold them for long once he’s out. It’s like a light is switched; from clingy starfish to a rotating car wheel.

Baby Saja:

⊹₊⟡⋆ He’d never verbally admit it, but as his name may suggest, Baby likes to be held.

⊹₊⟡⋆ He wants to curl up against you after an exhausting day, tucking his head under your chin like it’s his own personal oasis.

⊹₊⟡⋆ When he’s in bed, he’ll doom-scroll until he feels drowsy enough to fall asleep.

⊹₊⟡⋆ As he finally gets to the state of being able to rest, he’ll set his phone down, before nudging you with his foot to check if you’re still awake.

⊹₊⟡⋆ If you’re not, he’ll worm his way in between your arms, manually wrapping them around himself as you continue to slumber, unaware to his need for cuddles.

⊹₊⟡⋆ If you are still conscious, whether by choice or because of the blinding light of his phone, you’ll have to roll over and hold him; you have no choice.

⊹₊⟡⋆ It’s about being close to you, even if he refuses to confess it. He likes feeling the security of your embrace, the soothing thump of your heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

⊹₊⟡⋆ In the instance that you don’t enjoy snuggling, he’ll do his best to listen to your wishes, pretending it’s no big deal.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Despite his nonchalant facade, the moment he knows you’re asleep, he’ll produce a soft teddy bear from under the bed.

⊹₊⟡⋆ He had gotten one of those egregiously over priced teddies custom made, despite his better judgement. It had a heartbeat like yours, something he had always found comfort in.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Baby just needs to be held by someone (or something)

Romance Saja:

⊹₊⟡⋆ For the two of you, cuddling is a whole ordeal.

⊹₊⟡⋆ At least, Romance makes it seem that way.

⊹₊⟡⋆ You can never just cuddle. There always has to be a nauseatingly dramatic tragedy playing on the flatscreen, candles flickering by the bedside, rose petals everywhere. He insisted on it, explaining that his ‘beloved’ deserved nothing less than enchanting.

⊹₊⟡⋆ The first few occasions he did it, watching him flail around to find his lavender scented candles when you asked for snuggles, you found it endearing. However, it quickly became a common occurrence whenever the two of you curled up together.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Once you’re both settled in, and he’s calmed from trying to produce a romantic atmosphere, he enjoys either spooning you from behind, or lying his head on your chest.

⊹₊⟡⋆ When he’s spooning you, his body curled protectively around yours. He feels like he can keep you safeguarded from everything that sought to harm you.

⊹₊⟡⋆ While he was a romantic at heart, he was also incredibly protective of you, even when you both were safely in your bed.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Similarly, he enjoyed lying his head on your chest because it reminded him you were tucked snuggly underneath him; safe and unharmed. The soft bum-bum of your steadily beating heart is the only lullaby he requires to fall asleep. He found it comforting to know that if anything—heaven forbid—ever happened to you, he’d be the first to know.

⊹₊⟡⋆ In essence, cuddles with Romance are a rather large event. He likes to make each time special for the both of you, even when it resulted in the two of you falling asleep just a few minutes after settling down.

Mystery Saja:

⊹₊⟡⋆ He enjoys snuggling you in bed, in the dead of night, in his natural form.

⊹₊⟡⋆ While he doesn’t speak often, there’s something so rawly intimate about him being in his normal state.

⊹₊⟡⋆ He practically melts when you trace the swirling violet marks adorning his body. His cheeks flush a cherry red, not that you can see it in the dark, or under his bangs, for that matter.

⊹₊⟡⋆ He may be one of the cuddliest out of all the members of his group (aside from Baby, who’s still in denial about his snuggling needs)

⊹₊⟡⋆ He typically likes lying facing you, his arms wrapped around you like a vice. It’s as though he’s afraid if his hold falters, you’d slip away from him.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Your head would be tucked under his chin, his fingers gently carding through your soft hair. He finds comfort in the repetitive motion; in the silkiness of your tresses.

⊹₊⟡⋆ As stated in a previous headcanon, Mystery doesn’t sleep often. He never really felt the tugging of unconsciousness, the need to drift off.

⊹₊⟡⋆ So, once you fall asleep in his arms, he stands—or lies—guard, protecting you like a possessive guard dog.

⊹₊⟡⋆ He gazes down at you, occasionally parting his bangs so he could see you, truly see you without the interference of his hair. Once he knows you’re unconscious, he’ll talk to you about the most random of things. It may be the most he talks the whole day. It’s the only time he feels safe enough, comfortable enough to speak his mind without judgement.

⊹₊⟡⋆ Cuddling Mystery is an event that happens nearly every night, every time you crawl into his bed. He adores having you close to him, leaning on him. It makes him feel safe; wanted.

[brithebri747]

-Guardian of Dreams-

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Caleb will always be your protector ☽ ⋆⁺₊⋆

-°• Contents: Caleb comforting the reader after they had a nightmare ☆

-°• Warnings: brief mentions of the explosion in the main timeline, but other than that, it’s just comfort.

You shot up in bed with a strangled gasp, hair slicked against your forehead, body trembling as you fought to regain your bearings.

You had just awoken from the most horrific nightmare regarding the explosion at your childhood home. The implosion had been absolutely devastating; destroying everything you held dear, including your darling Gran.

You had thought it had taken Caleb, too, until recent events proved otherwise.

For two years, you had suffered silently with survivors guilt, trying to reconcile this new, independent life with your old one.

It was a struggle, to say the least.

The moment you stirred in bed, Caleb did, too. He groaned softly in protest, his arm flinging out aimlessly till it found your waist; wrapping around you.

“Pips?” He mumbled sleepily, his cheek pressed against the pillows, voice barely audible. Caleb had always been a light sleeper, a result of both his sharp pilot instincts; picking up every sound and movement in the room, as well as his ever-present insomnia. “You alright?”

“Yes,” you whisper, almost breathlessly. “Go back to sleep, Caleb.”

Your answer was plainly unconvincing due to your winded tone.

You knew that.

So, against your wishes, Caleb sits up, his eyes now blinking awake. He hooks a finger under your chin, gently tipping your head till your wide eyes met his less-than-awake, albeit caring, ones.

He knew that bug-eyed, trembling look from when you were kids; when he had comforted you during thunderstorms and night terrors.

Caleb knew you like you were an extension of himself; an addition to his being. He understood better than anyone what your every facial expression conveyed, including this one.

“Pips,” he repeats, his tone soft and comforting. “Did you have a nightmare again?”

Your face dusts a soft pink, and you knew he could see it, even in the absence of light. It shouldn’t have bothered you, being vulnerable with him. This was the exact same man who had held your hand when you cried and consoled you through the loss of your pet fish as a child. However, you still felt rather guilty that you were having nightmares when he had faced horrors far worse than you could imagine.

Still, you nod.

Perhaps it was instinct, seeking comfort from Caleb. Even now, you subconsciously saw him as a protector.

His eyes soften, and he gently tugs you back into his arms, your face pressed to his chest. He doesn’t urge you to recall the nightmare, knowing you’d tell him when you felt comfortable enough to. Instead, his bionic arm comes up to stroke your hair, the motion causing a soft whirring sound to fill the air.

“Sleep. I’ll keep the nightmares away,” he whispers.

You had heard that phrase a myriad of times in the past. Every time you required comforting, each time Gran was too preoccupied with her knitting group or book club to help, Caleb was there. He had always been there, each and every time you needed him.

So, you let your eyes flutter shut, finding refuge in the safe haven of his embrace. Eventually, you’re drawn back into a deep sleep, the steady beating of his heart singing your lullaby.

For the entirety of your slumber, Caleb stays awake, keeping watch over you, just as he had promised. He didn’t exactly need sleep, anyway. He was more than acquainted with long, sleepless nights.

His mechanical fingers continue to tread through your hair, the soothing motion never ceasing, even as the first streams of light began to filter through the blinds.

Caleb had always taken his role as your protector incredibly seriously. He had vowed to be your guardian at a young age, taking on a role far too mature for his age. Yet, he embraced that role with open arms.

He intended to continue protecting you until he took his last breath; even if that meant safeguarding you from the mundane, like night terrors.

He’d always be there to ward off unwanted nightmares.

Always.

[brithebri747]

-Poison Gilded Roses-

-°• Contents: a rather long story which seeks to give Romance Saja more of a backstory, as well as set the scene for the plot seen in kpdh

-°• Word Count: 3.7k

-°• Characters: Romance Saja

-°• Warnings: blood, major character death, angst—if you’re not comfortable with these, please feel free to scroll past ♡

-°• Bribri speaks!: I had the most amazing time writing this and even got slightly carried away in the process! This is part of my new series: Star Struck, which gives the five Saja Boys backstories in the first part, and has them reuniting with their beloved in the second. The first portion is set in the past, the second in the current kpdh timeline. The second part of this specific fiction should be out sometime this weekend or upcoming week. Thank you all! ♡

1624~

The sun was absolutely blistering today.

Romance liked to think he enjoyed his life; the son of a royal gardener. His days were spent working the sprawling gardens and cultivating the beautiful flowers that adorned them.

However, when the sun was beating down upon him, his skin burning an angry red, he found himself wishing he had a life requiring less manual labor.

“Excuse me, sir?”

A soft voice slices through the silence of the garden, causing his head to snap up.

There, draped in chiffon and silhouetted by the blinding sun, stood you.

The princess.

He scrambles to his feet, running his hands through his sweat slicked hair in an effort to look more presentable.

The effort was in vain.

“My Lady. I apologize, I wasn’t expecting anyone in the gardens,” he explains, dropping into a deep bow.

To your credit, you didn’t acknowledge his disheveled state, seemingly understanding that the work of a gardener did involve some degree of grime. You just smile politely, your hands resting on the skirt of your gown.

“You’ll have to pardon me for the interruption. I wondering if you could point me in the direction of the roses? Mother says they’re quite stunning this time of year.”

He nods, hoping he didn’t appear as jittery as he felt.

“Follow me, my Lady,” he replies, beginning to lead you to the north end of the garden, where the roses grew. He wondered how the princess of the castle wouldn’t know where the roses were in her own garden. Though, he had never seen you out here, so he assumed you just hadn’t been to the gardens.

He had never met a royal before.

His father had, and he had told Romance the vanity and self-righteousness that clung to those of the court. He had called them, as Romance recalled, “thistles in silk and jewels”.

He couldn’t help but cast you a side-long glance.

You didn’t exactly embodied the vile nature he had always thought would be evident in royalty.

You looked soft. Gentle. Like a daisy just coming to bloom.

“Here we are, my Lady,” he says, coming to a halt in front of a rather large bush of red roses. The roses came in all different shades and sizes, all of which him and his father had grown themselves.

You reach a hand out, tentatively running a finger over the delicate petals.

“They are quite stunning,” you hum. You speak softly, almost reverently as you touch the flowers. Your gentleness belies everything his father had told him about royals, and he finds his brow furrowing slightly.

He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to speak without first being spoken to.

He didn’t know the rules of the court.

However, the question of to speak or not to speak is quickly answered when you ask him a question.

“Did you grow these yourself?” You inquire, turning to look at him. Your fingers still rest on the bud, idly rubbing the silky petals between them.

Romance hesitates a moment before responding. He didn’t want to say something foolish in front of someone of your stature, even if it was just answering a straightforward question.

“My father and I did, yes,” he replies, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.

“Do you have a favorite one?”

Romance thinks for a moment, before sidestepping so he stood next to slightly smaller bush which bore pink roses. They were a similar shade to his hair.

You tip your head in acknowledgement, taking a step towards the shrub. Bending down, you tilt one of the blooms up towards you.

“They’re lovely,” you say, admiring the pink blossom. “I heard that different roses represent different emotions. Do these symbolize anything in particular?”

Romance nods, watching as you inspect the roses. Perhaps it stemmed from being a gardener’s son, but he had always adored his plants. They were like friends for him, something that he had very few of in any other context.

“These are associated with love and romance,” he explains, crouching down to your level.

“That’s lovely,” you repeat, bringing your nose to the center of the flower. You inhale deeply, taking in the sweet fragrance it produced.

There’s a brief pause, and Romance thinks that may be the end of the conversation. After all, why would someone like you waste their valuable time speaking to a mere gardener?

He’s swiftly proved wrong when you pipe up once more.

“What is your name, gardener?”

When he hears your query, he’s taken aback.

His name.

The princess—one of the most influential people in the country—is asking his name.

To say he’s stunned, would be the understatement of the century.

“It’s Romance,” he recovers, a light flush dusting his cheeks at his beat of hesitation.

You smile, soft and genuine. It’s not the type his father said all nobles and royals bore; the kind that hid betrayal and lies. Your smile was real as the foliage of this garden.

“Well, I suppose it makes sense these roses are your favorite,” you say, your smile growing.

A jest.

The princess was joking with him.

A lowly gardener.

In your eyes, he should be an ant under your heel; a servant whom you shouldn’t spare a second glance.

Yet, you were here. Speaking to him. Joking with him like he was your equal.

He couldn’t help the way his heart thumped erratically at the thought.

In a moment of pure astonishment and admiration, he leans over to a separate bush, this one growing roses in a brilliant yellow. He draws his gardening shears and clips one of the blooms. The stem snaps with a satisfying ‘crack’, and he holds it out to you.

“For you, my Lady, since you enjoy the roses so much.”

You take it, a smile once again gracing your lips. You duck your head slightly in a bow, a symbol of gratitude.

“Thank you, it’s gorgeous.”

Before he can reply, the call of one of your ladies-in-waiting can be heard from across the royal gardens.

“Ah, that’ll mean it’s time for me to take my leave,” you explain, casting him one more glance as you begin to exit the gardens. You hold up the rose, the silky petals catching the light. “Thank you, for this.”

Romance doesn’t even know how to reply, still rather confounded by the encounter.

Despite his confusion, he finds himself smiling softly, gazing down at the stalk he had cut for you.

He hadn’t had the chance to explain what the yellow rose meant.

Friendship.

Your visits to the royal gardens become a more typical occurrence. From that day onward, you came every time your rose began to wilt.

Every few days, Romance would find you roaming the gardens, explaining that your rose had wilted and you wanted another.

Each time, he would select a new rose for you, and explain the meaning.

Sometimes, you would linger, asking about other species of flowers. You would inquire about the workings of a gardener, watching as he demonstrated how to pot a bulb or how to recognize which plants need deadheading.

He had begun to look forward to the biweekly visits.

Perhaps it was foolish, to get attached to a princess who likely saw him as nothing more than a way to waste time.

Despite that, you were like a weed who’s root he just couldn’t seem reach. He was unable to help the way his heart fluttered every time he found you in his garden.

His heart was a traitor.

Five months into these visits, you came to him only a day after your previous meeting.

He clearly recalled that the rose had been a healthy, large bud; one that should’ve lasted for several days. So, he was rather confused when he found you sitting by the roses so soon.

It was near dusk, the sun slowly sinking below the horizon. The receding golden glow cast a warm shine over the black cloak that hit your face from view.

“My Lady?” He asks, dusting his hands on his pants as he approached you from behind.

You turn to look at him, the hood of your cloak falling from your head. You smile, something he had become so accustomed to seeing, but it was duller than your typical radiant beam. He looks into your eyes, and he can see that they’re rimmed red, evidence of tears and the pain that had accompanied them.

Your whole outfit was rather disheveled, so contrary to your usually prim and polished look.

The sight bothered him more than he cared to admit.

“I apologize for showing up unannounced,” you start, fiddling with the rings adorning your fingers. “But I needed to see you.”

He didn’t speak. He feared if he did, his words would be choked out by his heart in his throat.

“I’ve been engaged to the Prince of Spain.”

The words make his heart ache.

“Mother and father say I have no choice.”

It had no right to, he knew.

“They say that it’s my duty as a woman.”

He had no right to hurt for something that never was.

“I yelled, I told them I didn’t want to, but they would hear none of it. Father screamed at me about honor and duty. Mother looked like I was a disgrace.”

Yet, he couldn’t help the way his chest pained terribly at the thought.

You take his hand in your own, something you had never done before. Your hands are soft and plush, so contrary to the callouses that adorn his.

“And I needed to know—before it happens—if this is all in my head,” you continue, your voice trembling with barely withheld tears. Your hand clenches around his, as though it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

He didn’t dare move, terrified of shattering this carefully woven web of deluded fantasy.

You lean forward, like a sunflower to the sun, your face barely a breath away from his.

He doesn’t lean back, refusing to breathe, to blink, to awaken from this dream he thought would never come to fruition.

And then, your lips are on his.

It’s gentle, soft, but not without a prominent undercurrent of longing.

His eyes flutter shut, and his hand, without his consent, comes to cup your cheek. He can feel tears still leaking from your eyes, and he gently discards them with a swipe of his thumb.

When you at last pull away, he gazes into your eyes, his own filled with a deep rooted adoration.

“It’s not, my Lady.”

From then forth, the pair of you crept around like criminals evading the law.

No longer did you meet in the garden, instead finding one another in discreet places where the nobility couldn’t find you.

A remote flower field.

An unimportant tavern three towns over.

An abandoned cabin in the thick of the forest.

It was a delicate dance; flirting with the line between treason and romance. He knew that someone like him, a lowly royal servant, being caught with someone of your position would prove to be fatal.

He knew that.

Despite it, he couldn’t stay away from you.

His adoration for you grew everyday. With every stolen kiss, his heart swelled. Every murmured nothing came with the undeniable fluttering of his heart.

He knew the two of you had an ever-nearing expiration date. He dreaded it.

He was desperate to keep you.

The thought of losing you to a snobby prince was nearly unbearable; and he found himself growing more desperate the closer the wedding date got.

However, it was one fateful night that changed everything. One interaction that gave him hope.

He walked into his room after a long day of working the gardens. He was exhausted, grimy, and downright dirty.

He hadn’t been able to see you today, due to wedding preparations. The wedding was less than two months away, at this point.

He loathed it. Every time you told him anything about the impending ceremony, he wanted to hoist you up over his shoulder and whisk you away to an island, away from everyone, where you two could just be.

Upon entering the tiny room, his attention is immediately drawn to a faint blue glow upon his wall.

There, in a strange drippy, glowing substance, reads a singular sentence in messy scrawl.

‘I can help’

-Gwi-ma

Romance was stunned and slightly frightened.

Gwi-ma. The king of demons.

How he has known of Romance’s inner turmoil, he had no idea.

He knew the way of a demon from the stories his father told him as a child. He had explained to a four-year-old Romance that the creatures of darkness preyed on those who were blinded by desperation; those who had everything to lose.

Just below the note, on the rather dirty floor, lay a book. A guide on how to summon one of the vile creatures.

He stared at the book for a long moment; contemplating. His morality warred with his desperate desire to keep you close, to keep you his.

He loved you more than anything. More than the comforting feeling of dirt under his nails. More than any species of rose.

More than his own humanity.

So, with a heavy heart, and even heavier determination, he made his decision.

He opened the book.

“You did what?”

Your voice was calm, chillingly so. It wasn’t often you sounded like that; not even when he spilled fertilizer on your gown and dyed it blue.

“I sold my soul.”

His response is short, hastened by fear and concern for your reaction.

It had been well over a month since he made a deal with the one who forever altered his life. It was less than a month before your wedding date. Tonight, the two of you had been on a secret getaway to a flower field in the far corner of the kingdom; away from prying eyes and nosy court members.

He had thought it to be the ideal time to tell you of his scheming; of the deal he made to keep you from marrying that slobbery prince. He had rolled up his sleeves and shown you the glowing lavender marks that now marred his skin, explaining that he had done it for you.

He explained his plan. It was simple; at the wedding, he and several other powerful demons would barge in, sweeping you away from the chaos so you two could have your happily ever after.

And, he explained, it was only at the cost of a few measly souls.

Everyone at the wedding’s souls, to be precise.

However, he had failed to account for the fact that you wouldn’t appreciate him giving his humanity up.

And he hadn’t realized you wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice the souls your family members.

To him, it was all worth the hecatomb in the name of his love for you. He saw your family as the very people who hurt you, who kept you from being with him freely.

Your family was a shackle, tethering you to a life you didn’t desire. He believed you needed to break free of them.

“Romance, we are absolutely not doing that,” your voice was firm, final, not granting any room for negotiation.

But Romance, as he always did, pushed nonetheless.

“My heart, this is our chance to be together without restraint,” he tries to explain, taking your hand in his own. The nickname slipped from his tongue freely, as it always did when he was around you. He had taken to using the nickname after your third official “date” after your stolen kiss in the garden. It was due to the fact you truly occupied the majority of his heart.

It beat for you, now more than ever.

“Ro, I said no,” you reaffirm. You weren’t budging on this matter. Despite the numerous ways your family had hurt you, despite hundreds of nights you spent crying his arms due to their cruel actions, you refused to give up their souls simply because you didn’t want to be wed.

“But-“

“Romance Saja.”

The way you said his name, the slight snap at the end of his last name, had him instantly going quiet.

Internally, though, he was both angry and hurting. Angry, because he had done this for you. He had given up his humanity all for you. The fact you couldn’t recognize that sent him into a maelstrom of less-than-joyful emotions. However, his heart, the traitorous creature it was, still throbbed in pain at the idea of not being able to have you as his.

You just sigh, standing from your place next to him. You begin to walk down the flowering hill, fearing that if you stayed with him, you may say something you’d regret.

He doesn’t follow you, simply watching your retreating figure with a flurry of longing that made his breath catch.

It was then he made yet another life alerting decision, one that would redirect his life, and yours.

He was going through with his plan.

Blood.

Fire.

Chaos.

Screams echoed through the wedding hall as demons soared through the air, attacking and devouring anyone in sight. Your family was fleeing the hall as best they could. However, the majority of them were intercepted by an army of demons.

You should’ve known, you thought, that Romance was lead more by his heart than by his head.

You searched the gargantuan hall for the man in question, desperate for him to call off the attack.

Your fiancé was now lying on the floor, his whole body looking like a deflated balloon. His soul had been stolen.

During your search, you found your youngest sister, Ophelia, backed into a corner by a rather burly demon. Your breath caught, terror coursing through your veins. Your sister was the one person who had never harmed you, whether emotionally or physically. She had been the light of your life when everything seemed so dark, the silver lining of your existence.

You’re moving before you can even begin to process it, picking up your massive gown and sprinting in her direction.

You thrust yourself between your sister and the attacking creature, your arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace.

It takes a moment for you to recognize the stabbing in your back, the blood painting your dress.

Despite the mind-numbing pain, you guide her out of the hall, adrenaline keeping you moving.

Once you’re both out, the cries of horror fading behind you, you tell her to run; to not look back till she’s in the next town over.

And she does.

The moment she’s vanished from your view, you collapse on the perfectly manicured lawn, tulle and crimson pooling around you. Your diamond encrusted tiara tumbles from your head, coming to sheath in the ground beside you.

The instant your back touches the ground, he’s there, his arms wrapping around you. He looks pained, in full demon form, his suit tattered and ruined.

“You- you moron,” he chokes out, tears pooling in his eyes. His hand sweeps your hair out of your eyes, the familiar motion for his comfort as much as for yours. “Why must you go sacrificing yourself like a martyr?

You try to reply, perhaps a sarcastic quip about how if he hadn’t made idiotic choices, you wouldn’t have to. However, the words are cut off by a stream of blood streaming from your lips.

“Shhh, save your strength,” he whispers, cradling you in his arms, your dress and blood pooling on his lap. Despite his words, he had a gut feeling that this was it for you, the end of your romance together.

Your hand comes up to gently cup his cheek, the appendage trembling despite yourself. Your breaths are ragged and labored, soft heaves of your lungs that feel far too heavy in your chest.

Your other hand goes to the bodice of your gown, fishing something out of a thin seam in the fabric.

It’s the first rose he ever gave you, dried and slightly faded, yet instantly recognizable. You press it into his palm, the one that rests upon your stomach.

If this was the last thing you’d see; his face, that pink hair you’d come to love, his eyes, glowing gold and filled with tears, you would pass a happy woman.

Despite the betrayal, him going through with the plan you had expressly told him to discard, you still loved him desperately.

As if reading your thoughts, he cups your cheeks again, his voice wreaking of heartbreak.

“I love you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a final kiss to your forehead.

That’s the last thing you hear before your whole world fades to darkness.

Romance couldn’t recall a time when his heart felt so utterly destroyed. Even the death of his mother paled in comparison.

When he could finally bring himself to move, to stop sobbing uncontrollably, he carried you up to the flowering hill in which the pair of you spent so many nights. It was the exact hill where he had told you what he had done not even a month ago.

He longed for those times, when things were simpler.

When you were still whispering his name and curling up in his arms under a sea of stars.

He buries you there, atop that hill which held so many memories for you both. He sweats as he digs, the nighttime lack of sun doing nothing to ease the heat radiating from him.

He could’ve easily used his new powers to dig the hole for him. If he was a less sentimental man, perhaps he would’ve. However, he felt as though he owed it to you to hurt, to ache. He knew that would never pay the due he was indebted to.

It would never bring you back.

When he gently lowers you in the ground for your final goodbye, he gently lays four flowers between your clasped hands.

The yellow one, in all its shriveled glory, the first ever rose he gave you.

A soft pink bud, representing both himself as well as his love for you.

A large burgundy bloom, associated with deep-seated devotion.

And a black which stood for the lack of light in his life ever since you left him.

His garden wouldn’t ever be the same without his most beautiful rose in it.

[brithebri747]

-Warm Awakenings-

✮ ⋆ ˚｡ Mornings with the Saja Boys ⋆｡°✩

-°• Contents: A series of fluffy headcanons about your favorite fictional boy band—groggy mornings, cuddles, and fluff

-°• Warnings: none, just fluff

-°• Bribri speaks!: I absolutely loved writing these. This is my first time doing headcanons, so I hope you enjoy!—please note; I do NOT own kpdh, I do, however, own the writing. ♡

-°• Orange is for the boy’s speaking

Jinu Saja:

⋆˙⟡ Jinu has always had a tough time sleeping. Not because he had insomnia or too much caffeine, but rather because he’s plagued by nightmares of his mother and sister.

⋆˙⟡ Because of this, he often wakes up early, typically thirty minutes to an hour before you

⋆˙⟡ For at least twenty of those thirty, he’s just staring at you not in a creepy way.

⋆˙⟡ He just loves seeing you in the morning, hair tousled and lips slightly parted, the morning rays of light illuminating your skin. He enjoys seeing you when you’re not under the pressure of the spotlight.

⋆˙⟡ Eventually, he rolls out of bed, and pulls on his slippers. He always wears these worn yet soft bunny slippers in the mornings. His feet are always cold, so they prevent his toes from freezing.

⋆˙⟡ He always makes you breakfast in the morning.

⋆˙⟡ Before you, he never had the pleasure of slowing down and enjoying the tiny things in life. You’ve always been so kind and understanding with him, so he wishes to pay it back.

⋆˙⟡ When you eventually wake up, you’re met with the smell of burnt waffles (baby boy is still learning how to work a stove).

⋆˙⟡ You pad out of the bedroom, sleepy and slightly concerned for his wellbeing. When you see he’s okay, and the house isn’t burning down, you wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder.

⋆˙⟡ He absolutely freezes up and blushes, as if his brain is malfunctioning just from your touch.

⋆˙⟡ “Goodmorning, Ji.” “Morning, sweetheart.”

⋆˙⟡ You two eat together, his chair continuously scooting closer to yours over the duration of the meal, until he’s right next to you. He’ll tell you his plans for the day through mouthfuls of food, his hand tentatively resting on your thigh.

⋆˙⟡ Overall, mornings with Jinu are very slow and domestic, which is so contrary to the rest of his life. He’s always going from concert to fan signings to PR. It’s exhausting for him, but mornings with you are his solace ♥︎

Abby Saja:

⋆˙⟡ Abby wakes up every day at the crack of dawn (5:00am) to go on a run.

⋆˙⟡ He says that it helps set his metabolism for the day, but in reality, he needs something to wake him up and clear his head before he transitions into idol-mode.

⋆˙⟡ He comes back about an hour later, and you’re still catching z’s in bed, just as he left you.

⋆˙⟡ On occasion, if you’re in a silly position, perhaps with your mouth gaping or eyes partially open, he’ll take a picture to tease you with later. He has an album with all your unflattering photos labels “Photogenic Bae ❤️”

⋆˙⟡ He then disappears into the bathroom for a shower, a blisteringly hot one, to wash away the sweat and grime he built up on his run.

⋆˙⟡ When he gets out, hair still dripping, he’ll wake you up. He will most definitely only have a towel on, his arms and chest bare. He loves showing off his figure on any occasion he can, mornings included.

⋆˙⟡ He always finds a torturous way to wake you up. Sometimes he sprays you with a water gun, sometimes he screams that the house is on fire, and sometimes he just pulls your legs until you fall out of the bed. He finds your groggy shock and annoyance to be adorable.

⋆˙⟡ “Awww, come on, the water isn’t that cold.”

⋆˙⟡ He makes you those horrifically healthy protein shakes for breakfast. Not the cute TikTok influencer variety, but rather the kind with raw eggs and spinach. He finds them delicious. You typically have to pour yours down the sink and eat something actually edible to a normal human.

⋆˙⟡ Once you’ve eaten and he’s about to leave, he always says something to the effect of, “give your hunky idol some sugar, babe.” Before giving you the biggest goodbye kiss of all time, leaving you flushed and slightly dizzy.

⋆˙⟡ Mornings with Abby are always something slightly new; each one bringing a new morning prank and a tinge of fond annoyance on your end.

Baby Saja:

⋆˙⟡ You cannot convince me this man isn’t sleeping in till 11:00 or 12:00. You’re almost always up before him.

⋆˙⟡ He’s lying on his stomach, mouth open, a strand of drool leaking onto the pillow. His arm is thrown haphazardly over your waist, the other falling off the bed.

⋆˙⟡ You always have to employ drastic measures to get him awake. Often times, this involves getting the rest of the Saja Boys to yell at him or physically pull him out of the bed.

⋆˙⟡ Once he’s up, he lounges on the couch, munching on some sort of toaster waffle or other quick breakfast food.

⋆˙⟡ He has a stock pile of Starbucks in your fridge, which he drinks from at his leisure. Ever since the Saja Boy’s brand deal with Starbucks, he’s had the nearest one on speed dial.

⋆˙⟡ Every morning, without fail, he has one of those drinks. And most commonly, it’s a strawberry açaí refresher. The man loves his fruity drinks.

⋆˙⟡ He watches as you pad around the kitchen and living room, his eyes lazily flicking from you to his phone. It takes him an eternity to wake enough to move around and get ready.

⋆˙⟡ “Babe, can you get my drink?” “Get it on your own!” “I can’t reach itttttt.”

⋆˙⟡ On mornings where neither of you have somewhere urgent to be, you typically snuggle up together while you drink your morning beverages. He scrolls through his phone with one hand, the other holding his drink by the lid as he lies his head in your lap. He’d never admit it, but feeling you run your fingers through his hair in the morning was one of his favorite sensations.

⋆˙⟡ When you do have somewhere to be, you nearly always leave before him. You lean down to where he’s practically becoming one with the couch, gently pecking his lips. He makes a sound somewhere between a hum and a groan, but his hand still comes up to cradle the back of his head.

⋆˙⟡ The typical morning with Baby involves him being incredibly sluggish and refusing to move, all while you are trying to get ready for the day.

Romance Saja:

⋆˙⟡ When you wake up, he’s wrapped around you like a baby koala. His long arms are wrapped around you from behind, one of his legs thrown over your hip.

⋆˙⟡ Like Baby, he tends to sleep in. However, the moment you untangle from him, he’s up, gasping dramatically like he’s risen from the grave.

⋆˙⟡ In the rare instance that he wakes up before you, he’s definitely making you breakfast in bed. He’s pulling out all the stops; heart shaped pancakes, crispy bacon, and a warm coffee. He makes a valiant attempt at coffee art, trying to create a heart with the foam, but it comes out as a squiggly mess.

⋆˙⟡ He enjoys morning showers with you, as well as getting ready at the same time. Theres something intimate about getting ready together, in the same bathroom, that makes him feel giddy.

⋆˙⟡ He’ll also help you style your hair, if you ask him to. Somehow, he knows multiple intricate styles, including different braids and pleats.

⋆˙⟡ When he’s deciding on what to wear, he puts on a mini fashion show for you. He’ll strut around in various tops and pants, asking which one makes him look more dashing.

⋆˙⟡ If you two have extra time, he occasionally puts on one of the Saja Boy’s new songs, saying something dramatic to the effect of, “my heart, I wrote this for you” even if Jinu is the one who composed the song.

⋆˙⟡ He wants to slow dance with you. He likes the concept of slowly swaying around the living room, holding one another in your pajamas. However, it typically ends in one of you stepping on the other’s foot, and chasing each other around until you collapse in a bout of laughter.

⋆˙⟡ When he leaves, he cups your cheeks, pressing a gentle, but incredibly passionate kiss to your lips.

⋆˙⟡ He murmurs softly against them, “I’ll miss you, my heart.”

⋆˙⟡ And then, with his typical flair, he proclaims, “till we meet again, my darling,” before disappearing out the door.

⋆˙⟡ Mornings with Romance tend to live up to his name; romantic.

Mystery Saja:

⋆˙⟡ This man does not sleep.

⋆˙⟡ He just doesn’t, simple as that.

⋆˙⟡ He’s never felt the need to, even in his human form. And in the uncommon occurrence that he does sleep, it’s very light and dreamless.

⋆˙⟡ So, most times, when you wake up, he’s just staring at you.

⋆˙⟡ And every time, without fail, you scream.

⋆˙⟡ “Holy mother of- Can you not? That’s terrifying!”

⋆˙⟡ He simply shrugs, tugging you closer to his chest. He normally wants to cuddle in the mornings, your head tucked under his chin, his hand gently carding through your hair. If you don’t have time for cuddles, he won’t say anything, but he’ll be internally pouting.

⋆˙⟡ In his typical fashion, he doesn’t say much when the two of you finally roll out of bed. Instead, he prefers to show you he cares in the form of his actions. He likes to make you breakfast when he has time, seeing it as a simple way to show his affection.

⋆˙⟡ This demon cooks like he’s on Master Chef and you cannot convince me otherwise.

⋆˙⟡ Behind those far-too-long bangs, he is a culinary mastermind. He is dishing out the most delectable frittatas and crepes.

⋆˙⟡ When you are emerge from the bathroom, fresh and ready for the day, you’re met with the delicious scent of fresh fruit and eggs wafting through the house. You sit at the table, and he hands you the most appetizing breakfast you had ever seen.

⋆˙⟡ He takes his usual seat across from you, acting as if the divine breakfast he had prepared was no big deal. However, if you gush about how delicious the food looks and tastes, he’ll give you that little smile of his and continue eating, but you can see the tips of his ears dusting red.

⋆˙⟡ After you two eat, whenit’s time for him to get dressed, he likes you to sit in the bedroom with him. It’s not because he wants to show off, but rather because he enjoys the simplicity of your presence in the morning.

⋆˙⟡ Sometimes, he lets you experiment on his hair, since there’s so much of it. Once, you clipped his bangs back with little flower hair clips. You cooed about how cute he looked, pressing soft kisses to his face. He did his best to look unaffected, but he nearly melted into the floor.

⋆˙⟡ When it comes time for the two of you to say goodbye, he doesn’t make a big show of it. He just pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on your head. He basks in the gentle warmth of your body, the quiet of the house before the rush of a day in the life of an idol.

⋆˙⟡ Despite his silence, he truly enjoys your quiet company. He wouldn’t trade it for anything. With Mystery, mornings are quiet, but never without the most scrumptious of breakfasts.

[brithebri747]

-Imagine a society which relied on star signs to guide their lives-

-°• Bribri speaks!: This is just a random idea I had. Hope ya’ll like it ♥︎ (or at least think it’s interesting lol) Anyway, have a lovely day and stay hydrated!

-°• Warnings: none, just thoughts

•——\☆/——•

ᯓ★ At twilight on the child’s birthday, a family member, typically a mother or father, would walk their child to the river’s edge, accompanied by no one but a priest to confirm the child’s constellation.

ᯓ★ Depending on what constellation the child’s birthmarks resembled, most commonly found on their cheeks, arms, or legs, they’d be shipped off to the town or city which represented that constellation.

ᯓ★ For example, if a child had freckles resembling Ursa Major, they’d be celebrated. Those with Ursa Major’s blessing were thought of as the best of the best. They’d board a little mahogany canoe on the river, and drift north towards Ursan, a large metropolitan city. It was composed of behemoth skyscrapers and nearly blinding neon lights. Anyone who went there was truly blessed.

ᯓ★ If a child had moles on their arms which represented Boötes, a constellation which typically hung low in the sky, based on the Greek myth of Callisto and Arcas, they were quietly escorted to sprawling fields of wheat and barley. There, they spent their days herding sheep and living a simple, quiet life in small wooden shacks. It was a life of solitude, just as the shepherds of Boötes were meant to lead.

ᯓ★ If a child displayed beauty marks like that of Lyra, the constellation most closely associated with music, they’d be taken to the town of Bardan. It was a bustling town, made up of cozy cottages and rowdy taverns, which all encircled a massive wooden stage in the center. There, they would learn to be performers; singing, dancing, playing instruments. People from neighboring towns and cities would often come and listen to the music, watching the performances of those who were deemed blessed by Lyra.

ᯓ★ The combinations of birthmarks resembling constellations were nearly as endless as the stars in the skies. The Astrum was a ceremony upheld with honor and praise, and anyone who had been marked by a star sign was deemed blessed by the heavens.

ᯓ★ While it was seen as an honor to have been blessed by a star sign, if a child showed no birthmarks resembling a constellation, they were shunned. The elders of each town and city would’ve considered them cursed by the stars, and excommunicate them as outcasts.

ᯓ★ They would be labeled the anti-estrellum; the untouchables of the star-following world. The shunned anti-estrellum would spend their lives moving from shelter to shelter, meeting other outcasts and quietly building a resistance to the Astrum ceremony and the tyrannical ways of the star followers. They would begin to gather those who had been sent to horrific places simply because of their beauty marks; like the mine-workers of the Centaurus district, or those who bore the mark of Crux, who had been forced into monasteries. They’d form an uprising, challenging the methods of the Astrum ceremony and its leaders.

ᯓ★ Imagine a world where you were completely defined by something you had absolutely no control over.

ᯓ★ Imagine a world where your identity boiled down to the markings on your skin.