#YOU PUT IT IN ENGLISH SO I CAN READ IT...!!!!!!!!

[haikyu-mp4]

Baby names – Bokuto x reader wc 331 – pregnant!reader

Bokuto’s baby name list was even longer than yours. Why? Because anything can be a great name if you say it in a dramatic voice.

To be fair, all the names that translated to things like ‘lightning�� or ‘star’ weren’t that bad. The problem was that he decided the English words sounded even cooler, despite none of them being considered actual names.

You hated disappointing him, but he didn’t get far with naming your son after any of his friends either.

When he realised he could rhyme it with Bokuto, things got weirder. “Hakuto Bokuto” had him confident in his naming skills for at least two weeks until you had to shut it down. Then “If we start the name with Bro, it can all be shortened to Brokuto” wasn’t much better.

You smiled awkwardly and held your hand out one evening. “Could I see your list, darling?”

His cheeks flushed a little with excitement as he quickly handed over his phone, with the notes app open.

Trying to hide any sort of uncertain reactions as Bokuto watched your facial expressions like a hawk, you nodded as if registering every single entry. And you did, but you didn’t particularly like most of them.

Then your brows furrowed as you zeroed in on one, your free hand falling to caress the bulge of your stomach that held your future son.

“Aki… hiko?” you read and looked up at your husband with bright, curious eyes. “Akihiko, I like that.”

He clasped his hands together to contain himself but still squealed a little. “It means bright prince!”

You repeated the Japanese name once more, liking how it felt on your lips and imagining the face it would belong to.

“I like it a lot.”

And Bokuto felt that all the effort he had put into his research and suggestions was so incredibly worth it when he got to experience this with you. The pride he felt to have named your little one was unbeatable.

masterlist

[justastraymoa]

Yet Unnamed

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Korean is in italic.

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

Twenty minutes later, all 4 of you were in a car heading to the Stray Kids apartment.  Something you would have killed for in the past.  But now you were nervous.  Your leg kept bouncing unconsciously, and you kept your gaze out the window, lip between your teeth.

“Why did you 3 stay behind?”  You ask mainly to distract yourself from the situation.  You understood why they sent Changbin away.  If he was truly ready to get violent, then that wasn’t a good thing, and it was for the best that he was removed from the situation.  And the temptation.

“We are the nicest, and Hyung is the leader.”  Han shrugged simply.

Honestly, valid.  If any of them were going to put someone at ease, it would be the sunshine twins.

Felix reached over and brushed your arm lightly with his fingertips.  He had been doing this every few minutes since he was forced to let go of your hands.  It was almost like he needed to make sure I was real.  That I was actually here and solid and okay.

With a sigh that was half fond, you roll your eyes and grab his hand, lacing your fingers firmly with his.  Contact may help your nerves anyway.  It was a win-win.  Felix did seem to visibly relax in his seat, face smoothing out and looking content.

Chan looked back from the front seat.  He had been texting on his phone for almost the whole ride.  “I have someone bringing you clothes and a phone.”  He informed you.  “Here, text them anything else you want.”  He handed you back his phone without hesitation.

“Can you do that?  Just hand your phone to some rando you just met?”  You ask not moving to take the device.  You didn’t know how it worked for him, but you had all kinds of information on your phone.  Passwords, noods, bank numbers, you name it!  You could do all sorts of things with his phone if you had the intention to.

Your fangirl heart was really struggling today.  You are not sure how you weren’t screaming and crying being so close to 3 members of Stray Kids.  You were even almost calmly holding Felixs hand!  THE BangChan was now handing you his PERSONAL PHONE!   That’s it!  You can’t!  You just can’t!

Chan patiently continues to hold the phone out to you.  “You could argue that my soul has known yours for a long time, so we aren’t strangers.  Plus, you aren’t some rando.  You are our soulmate.  I would give you anything.”

Blushing, you take the phone gingerly.  It was opened to an ongoing text chain with someone named Dohyun.  The chain started in Korean but transitioned to English.  You didn’t think they realized you could read and write Korean fluently since you were 6 years old.  Your grandfather was a very traditional man and insisted on it.  He taught you all about your heritage.  Even on his deathbed, he was giving you last-minute lessons.

You kept hold of Felixs hand even as you used both yours to start typing in English.  It was sneaky and shady, but you wanted to see – or well hear – what they would say if they didn’t know you could understand them.  And it’s not like they ever asked, and you lied about knowing Korean.  They just assumed.

The first thing you did was send them your bank info and very strict instructions to use only your money.  You would not let yourself be indebted to them.  Well, any more than you already were.  You weren’t keeping track, but since they kidnapped you, you felt like you were pretty even right now, with them letting you stay with them, and you wanted to keep it that way.

You could feel Felix reading over your shoulder, but he didn’t protest.  He just watched in silence as you made your list and gave them clothing sizes and preferences.  You only needed enough to get by for now.  You had stuff back at your house, and anything else you could shop for yourself.

“Did I miss anything?”  You ask Felix after coming up on nothing else to add for a long minute.

Felix hummed as he thought.  “Do you want your own bedsheets or anything?”  He asked.  You shake your head.  You could use what they had already.  No use spending money on that.

Han leaned in to look, but didn’t give any suggestions, so you sent the message and handed Chan his phone back before your inner demons won and you started to look through his phone and invade his privacy and trust.  You were only human, after all.

Chan scanned the text but also didn’t say anything about your instructions to only use your money.  You choose to believe it was them respecting your wishes and not something else odd or secret going on like the dark part of your brain was trying to tell you it was.

When the car finally slowed and came to a stop, you didn’t move to get out.  Instead, you looked out the window again at the very imposing building you would be living in.  You were not a big city person.  You avoided large crowds for the most part.  So this extremely tall and glittery building was overpowering to you.

“This had been a very hard day for me.”  You say quietly to no one in particular.  You didn’t know how to describe everything you were feeling.  How mixed your thoughts were.  The ups and downs you have been through over the last few hours alone.  You could feel your mind and emotions wanting to go numb, comfortably blank.  You could feel yourself fighting to not shut down.  There was still a lot to do yet before you could.

Chan reached and patted your knee lightly.  “I warned them to give you some space tonight.  Lino made you some dinner, but he and Hyunjin headed out for the evening.”

“What about Seungminnie and Ayen?”  Han asked.

You were thankful they were giving you a few minutes more to get ready.  Also that you weren’t going to be bombarded by the other members of the group just yet.

“And Bin Hyung?”  Felix asked, back to stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Min and Ayen went to practice some more.  They said they would be there until late.  Bin refused to leave.  He is still worked up.  Y/n, he is a clinger, and since he was so affected by what they did to you, he will most likely be worse than usual. Just be prepared, and don't be afraid to tell him to back off if you need to. He will get over it."

You nod absently, already knowing that you will welcome the cuddles after the day you have had. Especially since it will bring more comfort to the space in your chest that the others affect.

Just four. You could handle one more person for sure. And food sounded amazing. You hadn't had anything since breakfast the day you were kidnapped. Whenever that was. At this point, you didn't know. Was it a day ago? Two days? Time was gone at this point. And right now, you didn't care to figure it out. It could wait until tomorrow. It would right itself eventually. When it mattered. When you needed it.

Now that you were thinking about food, your stomach clenched in hunger. You were thankful it didn't make an embarrassing sound like it always did in anime's.

"Is Lee Know really a good cook or is that just hype?" You ask, both out of curiosity and to buy yourself more time.

Han laughed. "Oh, it's not hype. It's amazing!" His laugh made you smile.

Felix tugged on your hand. "C'mon. We got you." He spoke lowly, giving the illusion of privacy.

His assurance, however, did help a bit, and you gave him a nod. As if waiting for a cue you didn't see or hear, the door was opened, and you were on your way to the apartment. You kind of felt odd. Out of body.

Chan barely guided you through the door before a large set of arms engulfed you. You blink and freeze in confusion.

"Bin, give her a minute!" Chan chastised behind you.

You take a deep breath and wave him off. Using the hand not still holding Felixs to rub down Changbins spine in soothing long strokes. He shivered lightly in response.

After a minute, he let go and took a step back. "I'm sorry. Last time I saw you, you were so out of it and terrified. I haven't been able to get it out of my head." He shifted, not so subtly checking me over, eyes lingering on my bruised wrists and hands.

"Most of those are my fault. I broke out of two sets of zip ties before they used the metal cuffs." You shrugged. All those hours of doom scrolling through the clock app did actually do some good. You learned how to break zip ties. It gave you a chance to attempt to escape. You weren't successful in escaping, but you for sure made it difficult for them. And you were oddly proud of that fact.

Changbins face lit up with a smile, and you blinked, stunned. "What?" You asked.

"Out girl is a fighter! I'm just so proud!" He responded.

"Changbin!" Chan snapped. Probably because of the 'our girl' comment. You just chose to ignore it. Choose your battles and all that jazz.

You shrugged one shoulder. "I wasn't about to go down without a fight."

Changbins face dropped so abruptly into a dark mask that you had to stop yourself from stepping back automatically as a shiver of fear crawled up your spine. That look was downright terrifying. You never wanted that look aimed your way.

"What that asshole did to you was wrong! So wrong! And if they'd let me, I'd knock his lights out. Break his jaw so he could never give another idiotic order like that again!" He spoke lowly, calmly, which made it all the more terrifying.

"I'd let you. I'd join you. Hold him down for you." You respond without hesitation.

Han squeezed his way by. "Seriously, Bin. She hasn't eaten. Let her in." He spoke in Korean. You did your best to keep up the illusion. You couldn't understand what he said.

"Yes. Lee Know left food for all of you. I'm Changbin, by the way. Or Bin, Binnie, whatever you want to call me."

Why did they all feel the need to introduce themselves like they weren't famous? Just politeness? It was really hard not to respond sarcastically.

"Y/n." You introduced yourself as you walked into the apartment, and the smell of BBQed meat hit your nose. Your mouth immediately started to water, and you swallowed.

Felix let go of your hand in favor of diving for a plate of the steaming food that was sitting in 4 spots on the table. "Oh, it smells so good!" He moaned, taking a deep sniff close to the food.

You wholeheartedly agreed. You awkwardly sat and took the fork Chan offered me to replace the chopsticks they didn't know I could use. Another thing they just assumed instead of asking that you would let them think for a while.

You could feel their eyes on you as you took your first bite, and you tried not to be self-conscious and overthink how you chewed or anything like that. Focusing instead firmly on the food in front of you.

As soon as the flavor hit your tongue, you forgot all about them watching. It was a brand new flavor for you. Nothing like any BBQ chicken you have ever had before. It was amazing, and you took another bite before you even swallowed the first.

"Guess that means you like it." Chan chuckled, finally digging into his own food. You just nod, still chewing happily.

"Lino will be glad to hear it. I think he was a little nervous. He kept fiddling with it before Hyune finally dragged him away." Binnie revealed as he sat with us.

It was mostly silent as you all focused on the food. Your stomach was singing in praise at finally having something in it besides the tiny cup of water Felix gave you earlier.

"Did you have enough?" Bin asked as you finished up your last bite. You nod, rubbing your stuffed belly in contentment.

"That was very good, thank you. And thank Lee Know for me, please." You request.

"No problem." Chan started. "So, I'm sure you want to shower and stuff. I can show you to your room. It has a private bathroom. And I'm sure we can find you some clothes to wear until the personal shopper gets here. As long as you don't mind wearing our clothes." Chan stood and picked up all the dishes, placing them in the sink as he spoke.

I bit my cheek. There was no way there was an extra room with a private bath just sitting empty. "I don't mind borrowing clothes if you don't mind. But who's room am I stealing?"

"You didn't steal anything. I figured you would be more comfortable with your own bathroom."

So, Chans room then. That makes sense. He was the oldest. He would have the choice room.

Bin let you gently down a hall, hand just brushing the small of my back like he was afraid to touch me all of a sudden. the others followed like little ducklings. You laughed at the images that produced in your mind silently.

The room was simple and nice. Warm colors accented the plain white walls. Navy blue blanket on the nearly made bed. You suspected they were fresh blankets and sheets for you. It was also bare. Very little personal belongings, and you could see the drawers were empty.

"I moved in with Minnie. Figured you would need the drawers." Chan shrugged when he noticed my line of sight.

"We moved everything over while you were at JYPE. We were hoping you would choose to stay." Bin explained further.

You felt a little emotional. They had all already done so much for you. For your comfort. And you had displaced five of them. Four from the apartment and Chan from his room. You were for sure being annoying. A burden. "This is too much."

I watched as four faces fell and felt even guiltier. "What's wrong? You need us to leave?" Han asked, wringing his hands. It was a nervous habit of his you had noticed. One that STAY normally didn't get to see.

You waved your hands. "No, no! Not like that! I mean... I kicked four of you out of your home!"

"Y/n, they are fine for a few hours. They don't mind and they will come back later." Chan assured you. Bin nodded in confirmation.

You gestured around the room. "And you? I kicked you out of your room!"

Chan smiled and tucked a piece of stray hair from your face. You could feel how knotted it was. How unkempt and stringy. "We have all been dying to finally have you here. Everyone knows I don't sleep. So, I really don't need a room. I tend to sleep wherever I land that night. We all just want you to be comfortable and happy."

"You promise you won't get less sleep because of this - me. Any of you."

Chan's face softened into a look you didn't understand but made your stomach do a little flutter. "I promise, y/n."

The shower was perfect. Just this side of melting your skin off and a constant messaging water pressure that made you moan loudly and throw your head back.

You startle as there was a crash in the bedroom. "Everything okay?" You called, heart still racing a bit. You stopped moving, straining to listen for an answer.

"Yeah! Yupp! All good. Just...fell." Felixs voice came through the door, sounding muffled but strangely high pitched.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, nope. I'm good. Um - I put some of Innie's clothes on the bed for you. They should work well enough."

You called out your thanks and went back to showering. You used what you assumed were Chans soaps. They smelled lightly fragranced. Like baby powder almost, but with a perfume edge. You were a fan.

When you were done and left the bathroom, you found a couple of pieces of clothes laid out on the bed. A pair of black boxers with chilis printed on them and a gray t-shirt. I slipped both on, swimming in the shirt, but comfy.

But what did you do now. No one was in the bedroom anymore. You were mentally exhausted and looked at the bed but weren't willing to get in it yet.

In the end, you silently crept from the room to find the others. Maybe chat or better yet watch TV. Something that uses no brainpower. Something mundane and normal.

The hall was still lit, and you could hear several voices. Maybe they were already watching TV. That would make it less awkward. You could just silently join them.

As soon as you stepped round the corner and into the living room, you almost ran right into I.N holding a glass of water. You both froze. You in shock, you didn't know the others came back yet.

I.N looked you over once before spitting out the water he had been holding in his mouth. "You gave her my underwear!" He screeched. The whole room was looking at you both now. Seungmin was sitting on the couch next to Chan.

Felix shrugged, unapologetic. "The only thing I could find that looked like it would fit and be comfortable to sleep in." He explained.

"Did I do something wrong?" You asked, very entertained by I.Ns reaction. You fiddle with the hem on the shirt.

"No!" Everyone in the room instantly replied. You blink owlishly at them. That was kind of intense.

Changbin made grabby hands at you from the loveseat he sat on. Your heart freaking melted at the adorableness.

"That was so fucking cute, oh my god!" You breath.

I.N snorted. You stick your tongue out at him as you pass to sit next to Changbin, which only made him snort again.

Changbin immediately pulled your legs over his lap and put an arm around the front of your hips. "Ayen and Minnie ended up coming home earlier than expected. Sorry."

You shrug. "It's their home. And I feel better after the shower. I'll be fine. Thank you."

"Bin, don't hog our girl!" Felix pouted, bouncing over on his tip toes.

Somehow, he managed to wedge himself onto the loveseat behind you. You were half sitting on his lap.

You had a feeling both Bin and Felix were going to be the clingiest ones. Not that you minded. You loved to cuddle. And so far, they were A class cuddlers.

There was some sitcom playing on the large TV. Someone even put english subtitles on for me.

A shiver ran through you, and goosebumps rose on your skin. Less than a minute later, a blanket was draped over your legs, and Seungmin was behind the loveseat rubbing a towel over your damp hair.

"Stupid. Your hair is still wet, and you aren't wearing enough. You're going to get sick." He grumbled, still drying my hair. You couldn't help but giggle. He was so aggressively caring.

When my hair was satisfactorily dry, he left and came back with a brush to gently untangle my mussed hair.

His fingers and the brush were so gentle in your hair that you could feel yourself drifting off. It had been such a long time since someone played with your hair like this. You forgot how relaxing it was.

You must have actually fallen asleep because next you looked the TV was off and it was just you, Bin, Felix, and I.N in the living room. You could hear the others nearby talking lowly and also some wet smacks you suspected were kisses.

"What time is it?" You mumble, rubbing your face on the back of the couch.

"Just after midnight." Felix answered quietly. You did fall asleep then. For several hours.

You move and stretch out so your top half was now in Felixs lap, already halfway asleep again. "Is that Lee Know and Hyunjin?"

There was a hum of affirmation, and Felix started running his fingers through your hair. You were asleep again seconds later, not even caring that you were laying in the laps of two men you had only just met.

~

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

Yet Unnamed Taglist: @fackeraccount @velvetmoonlght @hyunjinstolemyheart @vampkittenb82 @happy-jj @estella-novella @demigoddreamon-blog @tiana-maxivar @ms-flowergirl @jennibahng @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @mimimiloomeelomi

(If your tag isn't working i am unable to tag you for whatever reason. I'll keep you on and try every chapter.)

[someonegoood]

THE CORPORATE EQUATION chapter 3 ✫ jeon jungkook

an unexpected system crash puts sensitive employee and client data at risk. The crisis demands immediate action, forcing Jungkook and you to work together overnight.

CONTAINS: corporate!au, ceo!jk, headofhr!reader, grumpy x sunshine, slow burn, accidental vulnerability, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable jk, bickering turned bonding, fluff & angst :)

NOTE: this will be a mini series. thanks so much for reading!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

miiini taglist @haru-jiminn @parapiop7 @radcustoms @minniejim @jeonzll @vantelover1306 @bgfdcvbnjk @mar-lo-pap @lmaothv @jksusawife <3

my main masterlist! ❀ the corporate equation masterlist!

The day began with the usual rush of the office, but a text from your mom disrupted your focus: “We’re leaving today! Don’t forget to take us to the airport!” A wave of guilt hit you. Between your workload and stress, you’d almost forgotten about their trip to Paris.

You hurried home after work, greeted by the familiar chaos of your parents’ last-minute packing. Your dad was stuffing maps and snacks into his carry-on while your mom ran through her checklist for the third time. Hyunjin, your brother, was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, waiting for the inevitable cry of, “We’re late!”

Once the bags were loaded into the car, you piled in, squeezing into the backseat next to Hyunjin. The drive to the airport was filled with chatter about their plans. Your mom gushed about the landmarks she wanted to visit, while your dad rambled on about the history of the city they’d see.

At the airport, the goodbye was bittersweet. You hugged your parents tightly, promising to check in with them regularly. Your mom gave you a knowing smile, saying, “Don’t overwork yourself, and… maybe go on a date while we’re gone.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

As you watched them walk toward security, your eyes drifted across the bustling terminal. That’s when you saw him—Jungkook.

He stood a few gates down, dressed sharply as always, his posture exuding the same effortless confidence that made him such a formidable CEO. But it wasn’t just him. Beside him was a woman, tall and strikingly beautiful. She leaned close as they talked, her hand lightly brushing his arm. Then she laughed—a warm, effortless laugh that made your chest tighten.

You froze. She was everything you weren’t: tall, slender, dressed in designer clothes, her aura polished and magnetic. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but the familiarity between them was clear. A pang of insecurity struck you, and you quickly looked away.

Back in the car with Hyunjin, you were unusually quiet. When he asked what was wrong, you shook your head and mumbled,

“Nothing. Just tired.” But the image of Jungkook and that woman lingered in your mind.

“Alright, spill. You’re quieter than usual, and that’s saying something.” Breaking the silence, your brother spoke while driving. “Let me guess, you saw him at the airport,” Hyunjin said, leaning back against. His casual tone didn’t hide the sharpness in his gaze.

You crossed your arms, looking out the window. “You guessed right.”

Wait he does he know-

“Don't look so astonished. You're the one talking about your boss over dinner. And let me also guess—he wasn’t alone,” Hyunjin added, his voice almost sing-song.

You groaned. “Oh my god, can you not?”

“Hey, just connecting the dots,” he said, shrugging. “Who was she? His new assistant? A business partner? Or, ooh, maybe his fiancée?”

“She didn’t look like an assistant or a business partner,” you muttered. “She looked… perfect. Gorgeous, polished, like she walked off the cover of some luxury magazine.”

Hyunjin turned to look at you fully, an incredulous smile spreading across his face. “And? You’re intimidated by that? Please. She’s probably boring. I mean, do you think she knows how to annihilate someone at Mario Kart or eat an entire pizza in one sitting? No. But you do.”

You snorted despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

The next day, your lingering unease over the airport encounter was overshadowed by a sudden, other catastrophic event: the company’s system had crashed. Alarms blared as employees scrambled to respond. Sensitive employee and client data was at risk, and chaos spread through the office like wildfire.

Jungkook quickly called an emergency meeting. His voice was sharp and steady as he outlined the severity of the situation. “This is a critical breach,” he said, his gaze sweeping across the room. “We need solutions, not panic. Let’s move.”

The HR and IT teams sprang into action. Amid the chaos, you stepped forward, rallying the IT team with a calm authority that surprised even yourself. While others panicked, you assigned tasks, kept communication clear, and ensured everyone stayed on track.

Soojin leaned toward you, whispering, “Does he always sound this intense during emergencies?”

“Every time,” you replied, grabbing your notebook.

Minho shot a quick glance at Jungkook, then at you. “You okay? You’ve been kind of… off since yesterday.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Dohyun, chimed in nervously, “We need to focus. Who’s handling the communication with employees?”

“That’s us,” you said, your voice firm as you scanned the room. “Minji, can you coordinate updates for the staff? Soojin, take point on compiling affected accounts. Minho, work with IT to get an incident report drafted ASAP. Dohyun, assist wherever needed.”

As everyone scattered into action, Hajun, Jungkook’s assistant, handed him a tablet with a detailed damage assessment. Jungkook studied it with furrowed brows, his jaw tight.

“You,” he said, looking at you. “Stay. I need HR’s perspective on the recovery plan.” The tension in the room shifted, the others glancing at you briefly before leaving.

The IT team shuffled into the room, armed with laptops and frazzled expressions. Minho and Soojin joined you as you took your seat. Jungkook stood at the head of the table, exuding his usual air of authority.

“What’s the status?” Jungkook asked, his gaze locking onto the IT lead.

“We’re working on isolating the breach, but it’s extensive,” the lead replied. “We estimate at least 40% of the client database has been compromised.”

“Forty percent?” Soojin repeated, her eyes wide.

“We’ll need HR to handle internal communication and keep employees calm,” Jungkook said. His eyes flicked to you. “You’re taking the lead on that.”

You nodded stiffly, keeping your focus on your notes. “Understood.” Minho, ever observant, noticed your distant demeanor and shot you a curious look. Soojin’s gaze darted between you and Jungkook, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.

“Any thoughts, Y/N?” Jungkook asked, his tone unusually soft.

You hesitated, then replied, “We’ll draft clear messaging for employees and address concerns about data privacy. But IT needs to prioritize a transparent timeline for system restoration.”

Jungkook’s expression softened, his usual sharp edges momentarily dulled. “That’s a solid plan.”

But you refused to meet his eyes, keeping your attention on the notes in front of you. Minho leaned closer, muttering, “You two good? You’re acting weird.”

You shook your head slightly. “Focus on the task,” you whispered back.

As the team dispersed, Jungkook stopped you by the door.

“Hey” he began, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “You’ve been avoiding me. Did something happen?”

You stepped back, your expression guarded. “Nothing happened. I’m just focused on work.”

Jungkook’s brow furrowed, his voice softening further. “If this is about—”

“Stop,” you interrupted, your voice steady but firm. “This isn’t the time or place. We need to recover our information.”

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he nodded. “Alright. But we’re not done with this conversation.”

As you walked away, you could feel the weight of his gaze on your back, and despite everything, a small part of you wished you could turn around.

Your heart clenched, the weight of his tone sinking deep into your chest. It wasn’t just his words—it was the way he said them, like he meant more than he let on. Like he wasn’t just talking about the system crash or the meeting but something far more personal.

But you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. If you did, you knew the resolve you’d been clinging to would crumble. Instead, you tightened your grip on your notebook and quickened your pace, willing the knot in your chest to unravel.

Hours passed, the office growing quieter as the chaos from the crash simmered down. Sometime past midnight, you found yourself in the break room, clutching a cup of lukewarm coffee, trying to steady the exhaustion settling in your bones. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the door open.

“Late night?” Mr. Jeon's voice broke through the silence, low and familiar. You looked up, surprised to see him standing in the doorway. His tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and his posture was just as worn as yours. The CEO façade was gone, replaced with the same exhaustion you were feeling.

“I didn’t think you were the type to stay this late,” you teased, though there was a hint of tenderness in your voice.

He chuckled softly, stepping into the room. “I have my moments. Though, I’d rather not be stuck in a room full of data breaches and alarms.” He poured himself a coffee, his gaze flicking to you. “You handled that well earlier. Really well.”

You shrugged, pretending it wasn’t a big deal. “Just doing my job,” you said, but the warmth in his eyes made you feel like you’d done more than that.

He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “No, really. You kept everyone grounded. You didn’t let the panic take over. That’s not easy, not with the pressure of everything falling apart.”

The compliment hung in the air between you, more genuine than anything you’d heard from him before. The distance that had always lingered, the formality of CEO and employee, seemed to dissolve in the quiet of the break room.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, silent, just existing in the stillness that had settled around you. The soft hum of the office at night and the distant clicking of keyboards felt like background noise to the tension building between you.

Then, emboldened by exhaustion, by the raw honesty of the moment, you asked the question that had been gnawing at you since the airport.

"Do you… have a girlfriend?"

The question hung in the air, too personal, too direct. You instantly regretted it, the unease creeping back into your chest. Jungkook’s eyes widened for a second, but to his credit, he didn’t seem offended. He paused, processing your question.

“We’ve known each other for a long time. It’s… complicated.” He said quietly, his voice softer now.

You swallowed, the knot tightening in your throat. You didn’t know what you’d expected, but his answer seemed to hold more weight than you were prepared for. The air between you shifted, becoming heavy with the questions you wanted to ask but couldn’t. You wanted to know more, but you didn’t dare. Was the woman in the airport his girlfriend?

"But no, I'm not currently in a relationship." He cleared his throat before taking a seat besides you.

The conversation faded, and soon, the moment passed. You both returned to work, but the quiet lingered between you.

Then, a few hours later, as you leaned over a file, focused on finalizing the details of the recovery plan, you felt something. A soft brush of fingers against your hair, a fleeting touch that made you freeze. Jungkook was standing just behind you, his hand lingering for a second longer than necessary before pulling back.

His fingers had gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, the motion so subtle, yet it left a spark that crackled in the space between you. The intensity of the moment hit you both, leaving you frozen. You quickly looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Sorry, I just—” Jungkook began, clearing his throat, but you interrupted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“I-I need to focus,” you said, the edge of urgency creeping into your voice. You could feel his gaze still on you, and it made your skin prickle, but you refused to meet his eyes.

Jungkook paused for a moment, the silence between you thickening. “You’re avoiding me again.” His tone was softer now, almost like he was testing the waters.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your attention on the report in front of you. “I’m not avoiding you. I’m just—” You exhaled sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. “There’s too much to do.”

His gaze didn’t leave you. “Is it really about the work, or is there something else?” Jungkook’s voice dropped a fraction, and you could feel the weight of his words pulling at you.

You stiffened, your heart skipping a beat. “It’s nothing,” you muttered quickly, unwilling to open up. You could feel the pressure building, like you were standing on the edge of something you didn’t want to face.

“You’re lying.” He said it without hesitation, the words cutting through the tension. “I can tell when you’re upset, Y/N. And right now, you’re upset with me.”

You froze, the intensity in his voice making you look up for a split second, only to quickly look away again. "I’m not upset with you," you whispered, but it felt like a lie even as you said it.

He exhaled, the frustration in his eyes barely concealed. “You know, you’re impossible to read sometimes,” he said, voice quiet. “You push everyone away when things get hard.” He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space between you. “I’m not going anywhere, you know. You can talk to me.”

For a moment, you wanted to give in, to tell him everything that had been eating away at you. But the walls you’d built around yourself felt too high, too solid. You bit your lip and shook your head.

“I can handle it,” you replied, barely above a whisper.

Jungkook didn’t answer right away. The air between you two seemed to hang heavy, filled with things unsaid. He lingered, watching you, but then, with a quiet sigh, he backed off. "Fine. But don't think I'm going to let this go." His voice was softer now, almost resigned.

You kept your head down, not daring to look at him. The silence that followed was thick and heavy, but somehow, the space between you felt even larger than before.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night, the air heavy with unspoken things. But that fleeting touch had shattered something, leaving the two of you unable to ignore the charge in the room.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed both of you. You found yourself drifting into sleep at your desk, your head resting on your arms. The crisis had worn you down, and with everything that had happened, you couldn’t fight it anymore. The office was quieter now, the faint hum of computers and the distant tapping of keyboards the only sound in the dimly lit space.

Jungkook, still at working besides you, glanced up from his work, his gaze softening when he noticed you. He’d caught glimpses of your tired eyes earlier, the strain in your posture, but he hadn’t said anything. Now, watching you, he saw how utterly spent you were.

The air was thick with a quiet calm, and Jungkook hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the crisis that had brought you together, or something more, but he found himself standing up and walking toward you.

Gently, he placed his blazer over your shoulders, his movements careful so as not to wake you. The touch was almost instinctual, a quiet, unspoken gesture of care. His fingers brushed the back of your chair as he adjusted the fabric, and for a moment, he lingered there, his eyes studying the peacefulness of your sleep.

"What I am going to do with you?" He said out loud.

It was only after another few minutes that he finally sat back down at his desk, stealing one last glance at you. The weight of the night seemed to settle between the two of you, unspoken but tangible, as if the events of the last few hours had somehow shifted things.

And despite the exhaustion pulling at him, Jungkook found his own eyelids growing heavy. He hadn’t expected to fall asleep, not with everything still to be done, but as the minutes passed, he felt himself giving in to the pull of sleep. His head dipped slightly, and soon, he too had succumbed to the overwhelming weariness of the night.

previous / next

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hey! wanted to say i appreciate you talking about how malleus doesn’t appeal to you :,) he doesn’t quite appeal go me either, but i couldn’t find anyone that didn’t either hate or love him, both sides often mischaracterizing him. i felt like i was going mad. but you put my feelings about him into words in a really eloquent and well thought out way, so, yea! thanks for saying your honest opinions on the internet haha

[Please check my pinned post’s FAQ section if you’d like to read about why I personally dislike Malleus!]

Thank you!! It’s not often that you get gratitude for being critical of a character (as opposed to, like, outright praising them) so this ask genuinely took me by surprise.

I find that Malleus is one of those characters that’s quite difficult to talk about. Because he’s so well-liked by English-speaking fans (fandom-run polls consistently show that he is liked by at least 50% of responders), his presence has become almost stifling… which formed a counterculture (ie hate) against him. In any case, whether you think negatively or positively of Malleus (or feel nothing at all for him), that can really color how his words and actions are perceived. But sometimes it feels like you can’t even talk about him without walking on eggshells. People tend to feel so strongly about Malleus and you never know how they’ll react to the thoughts you express.

It should be recognized that both extremes will blindside you. The most ardent Malleus lovers will make everything about him or enable and defend him to the bitter end even when Malleus has done reprehensible things. The most passionate Malleus haters will nitpick what are just normal or innocent actions as The Worst Possible Thing Ever or claim he’s aggressive all the time. Neither truly compasses who he actually is.

As I’ve mentioned in other posts, I’d like to think that even though I dislike the guy, I try and give him a fair shot 😅 Some of the issues I have with him are no fault of his own and result from the narrative’s failure to capitalize on his intrigue or the nature of gacha games and the main story being limited. Other issues I’ll admit are completely my own annoyances and gripes (like how I take issue with OP characters with few setbacks, how I don’t like characters that try to force their views onto others, or how I have had bad Malleus-related fandom experiences). Then there’s just the objective truths, like how Malleus is extremely arrogant but is rarely called out for it or rarely faces consequences for his actions in-universe (or from the fandom). He’s still a complex character, just… not one I enjoy.

Looking back on it 💦 I almost can’t believe I have like… 8 or 9 posts detailing my frustrations with Malleus, and each of them expressing significantly different issues from the last. I’m glad that this blog can be a space for me to discuss my thoughts and opinions without angry fans of X or Y character coming at me 😭 I unfortunately can’t say that this is always the case… But for the most part, it’s pretty peaceful here and I really appreciate that!

I’ll close this post off by shouting out the Malleus fans who don’t take it personally when someone else says they’re not a fan of their blorbo. The Malleus fans who are willing to come to the table and listen, the Malleus fans who acknowledge his imperfections and faults, the Malleus fans who accept that others can choose to dislike him for any reason, whether big or small, and don’t push for “correcting” the “wrong” opinion. I know that it sounds like such a low bar to clear, but trust me when I say I’ve witnessed and experienced much worse behaviors (from a loud minority of Malleus fans) and would not wish that upon anyone.

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest Pop-Up: Birthday Boy Prompts: Gift, 21

Summary: Every year for his birthday, Eddie gets a special gift. When they stop coming, he feels an unexpected way about it.

Word Count: 1502

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: No Upside Down AU, Friendship, Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Unseen Character Death

Notes: Thanks to @corrodedcoffinfest for another fantastic pop-up. I’m glad to be able to get back into these. I missed one and it was like I was missing a part of myself.

This entry is one that doesn’t make the most sense, logically, to a canon Eddie. But, like many other things, this is incredibly personal and something I’ve been wanting to write for a while. So I’m using this prompt as an excuse to do it for myself. It’s not my exact story, but it’s taking from both of my grandmothers. Nonna, who spoke English very well but couldn’t read or write it. And Babcia, who knew no English and I, of course, knew no polish. Still, she wrote novels in all of her cards to me. And my piece of shit father always refused to translate them. Eddie, you deserve all the love of a dearest grandparent, so I’m loaning you some of mine.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

He doesn’t know why he cares.

There are plenty of other things to think about today; it is his 21st birthday, after all.

But there are some things you just take for granted when you’re younger, and when they suddenly aren’t there anymore, you can’t help but realize the mistake you made. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that shit.

He used to only care about the crisp $20 bill that was tucked into the cards. A fresh note, straight from the bank. Used to buy toys, then candy, then books, then records. For birthdays and christmases and Easters.

Eventually he paid attention to the cards themselves. Pretty things with cartoons and pictures and, on birthdays, the numbers coinciding with the age he achieved. There were inscriptions inside, lengthy passages in fancy handwriting that he couldn’t read.

Not because they were illegible. He simply could not read them.

Dniu Urozdin. Wesołych Świąt.

Paragraphs upon paragraphs of words. And he wasn’t sure what they meant. Or the emotion that he was supposed to feel reading them.

“But who are they from?” He asked Wayne once when he was finally old enough for curiosity to spark.

“Your grandma,” was the simple response. But he knew no grandma, beyond old Nana Munson who passed right after his mom did. “I’ve told you that before.”

There was no return address for him to send a letter back to, no telephone number for him to call. Just a simple “Kocham cie, Busia” at the bottom of the novel his supposed-grandma wrote.

“Buss-ee-ah,” he pronounced slowly, and then looked to his uncle again. It felt wrong on his tongue. Not only in English but somehow also whatever that language was. He felt it in his gut. “Is that her name?”

Wayne scratched his chin, and looked at him sadly, then explained that he had only met Elizabeth’s mother once. Twice, at most? A small, elderly woman who spoke English very well—if accented—but apparently couldn’t write it much. He couldn’t remember her name or address or anything that would be useful in contacting her.

Of course, Al would have been some kind of help, but a long lost grandmother wasn’t exactly the first—or last—thought on any of their minds when the eldest Munson deigned to come to town.

”I’m sorry Ed,” Wayne whispered and mashed a hand on top of Eddie’s buzzed curls. “Maybe one day she’ll put her phone number in.”

Of course, by that time Eddie had developed some degree of self-loathing, and he chalked it up to a grandma who felt obligated enough to send a card, but didn’t care enough to really want to know her only grandson.

That’s when the cards started getting put away. In a drawer. Out of sight, out of mind til the next one came. Then the $20 bill would be slid into a wallet and the card would join the rest.

“Thanks Busia,” Eddie would whisper and offer a stiff and sarcastic salute as he slid the drawer closed. It never really felt right, but his hardened heart couldn’t care much more than that.

Jeff had seen them once, the stack of cards in his nightstand. He’d stayed the night and had been snooping.

“What’re these?” He asked, a laugh partially escaping from his mouth. A dozen greeting cards with illegible stories inside.

“They’re my lore,” Eddie explained, only slightly sarcastically. “I just haven’t leveled up enough to read them yet.”

“Guess you need to find a better DM,” Jeff joked back. He took one more look at the gently written closing, then slid it back into its home.

More time passed, more $20 bills spent.

But now, it was Eddie’s 21st birthday. Nothing in the mailbox. Nothing waiting for him on the counter amidst the bills and circulars. Nothing.

He didn’t think much of it at first. Distantly, during lunch, he wondered if the snowstorm that had blown through the previous week had delayed the mail at all. Because Busia’s cards always came through on time. Always.

So that had to be it.

And he tried to make excuses. Because it was just a card. Just a $20 bill. They weren't important; he didn't know why he cared.

Beer was drunk, weed was smoked, fun was had with his friends, who gifted him with new cassettes and a leather-bound notebook for him to write his stories.

But the next day, the only birthday gift waiting for him was a hangover.

Nothing the next day. Or the next.

“Nothing for me?” He asked Wayne anxiously a week after his special day.

And Wayne knew what it was he was asking for, even though he hadn’t said it aloud.

A hand was clamped down on his shoulder.

“She was old,” Wayne whispered. “Same age as Nana Munson, I’ll bet.”

The words rang in Eddie’s ears, an uncomfortable ringing, even as Wayne tried to blame the lack of a card of forgetfulness.

Because there had been a Christmas Card. And Eddie’s birthday had only been a month later. She wouldn’t have forgotten. Not after she’d sent one for almost two whole decades.

He sat at home late that night, in the dim light of his bedroom, trying to decipher something from those cards. Some kind of hint that Busia would excuse the lack of a birthday card. Maybe in a language he didn't understand, she would explain that she was having surgery or going on a trip, and that her birthday gift would be late this year.

Deep down, as he saw her beautiful handwriting get messier as the years went by, he knew why there was no card.

And he sat there every night, for days, amidst the only thing he had from his grandmother, mourning something that he never really had at all.

Jeff stopped by on the third day, backpack clutched in his hand, and he pulled the comforter off of his supposedly sleeping friend.

"Wake up! Come on, we've got character sheets to write! Gah, it smells like stale Cheetos and farts in here." Jeff laughed, then stopped, as he spotted the stack of cards beside Eddie's supine form. "Oh no."

"I'm feeling human feelings, Jeffy," Eddie groaned and curled up on his side. "Avert your eyes."

Jeff huffed a sigh and plopped down on the edge of the bed. "If anyone knows how many human feelings you have, Ed, it's me."

He tried to reach for one of the cards and Eddie had the audacity to hiss at him.

"What if I said I had a present for you?"

Of course, that piqued the older boy's interest.

Jeff heaved his backpack over his shoulder and rooted through it, searching for small object that he'd been keeping for a while.

"I've had it for a while," he explained. "I didn't want to...listen Ed I know how much you keep things close to the chest sometimes. But Timmy Kaminski was my lab partner last year, before we graduated. I recognized something in that one Christmas card. He calls his grandma 'Busia' too."

Eddie groaned and ran a hand over his face.

"I don't call her Busia," Eddie scoffed. "I don't call her anything. I don't even have a grand--"

But Jeff shoved a book in Eddie's face. A small yellow paperback thing, edges a little worn from being tossed around Jeff's backpack, but otherwise relatively new.

Polish to English Dictionary.

Eddie hesitantly took the book from Jeff and stared at it.

"I'm not gonna pry," Jeff said softly. "But obviously...obviously something upset you. Because of these cards. And last time...last time they upset you, you said that you hadn't leveled up enough to know what they said yet. So I decided I would take over as DM...and Level 21 is enough to start unlocking basic translation as a skill."

"But--"

"You know enough Klingon and Sindarin, you might as well learn what your god damn birthday cards say! I'll even help you, damn it!"

Jeff stared at Eddie expectantly.

And Eddie felt the pit that had formed in his stomach over the past few days begin to close a bit.

There was a pang in his chest as he sat up and stared at all the cards surrounding him. The little yellow book might as well have been made of gold, how much it suddenly meant to him.

"Thanks Jeff," he muttered, holding back tears.

"Of course, man," the younger boy nodded and patted a hand on his shoulder. "And if you ever...ever want to talk...you know I'm here. God knows I've talked your ear off plenty."

"Yeah you have," Eddie snarked, earning a scoff.

He was about to pick up a card, ready to begin the slow process of translating it.

However, an idea struck him, and he began flipping through the book.

Not an idea. Words. Simple words that he'd read over and over for years, let alone the last few days.

He reached the page, and he felt his heart grow.

Kocham cie. I love you.

*a handful of cards I had gotten over the years. I (proxied by my mother when I was too young to know) kept them all. The oldest card I have is from my first birthday in 1995. I hope she knows how loved they are.

[catgirltoofies]

the reason people think this is because they simply see the surface of what's given to them. they see homura as aloof and only concerned about madoka for basically the entire runtime of the show, and don't read further into it. of course, if you dig even a single inch below surface level you'll find out how much she cares about the entire quintet.

the reason homura acts with such hostility towards the other girls during the show is because of the amount of times she tried to save them and failed. she's a 14 year old girl and she failed to save the lives of her friends dozens of times. can you even imagine how terrible that is? not only watching the love of your life sell her soul, die, or lose her mind that many times, but also the lives and souls of your best friends? she tries to act like she doesn't care so she can avoid the trauma of loss. she hopes that by only focusing on madoka, she can at least save one of them.

with all that said, though, it's clear that she cares for them even despite her air of aloofness, and you can see this textually. when mami is killed by charlotte and the ribbons binding homura melt away, she says what can be translated as, "oh no..." or "it can't be...", though i think the english translation they use is "unbelievable". on the one hand, it could be argued that she's showing concern that madoka is in danger because the only other magical girl just died, but i think a far stronger argument is that she realized mami just died - again - and now she has to put her grief aside to go save madoka. and then later, when kyoko and sayaka are fighting, she steps in before they kill one another, because she knows that if she doesn't, one of them is going to kill the other, and nobody likes watching friends fight.

and THEN. during rebellion. god. she takes all of her friends, brings them back to life and creates an entire world for them to be happy in. she's shouldering the weight of their happiness entirely on herself, not to mention having to hold down the magical goddess that is madoka. she obviously doesn't know this at first, but that doesn't mean it doesn't weigh her down. very importantly, she also understands that in this world, her friends love her back, that's why she puts the gun to her head, she KNOWS that mami will stop her and uses that for a tactical advantage. she's too calculating to make a move like that without certainty. and THEN. and THEN! at the end of it all! when she witches out and claims the part of the law of cycles that is madoka! she creates another new world for her friends! one in which she views herself as the devil, the bad guy, the one that struck down god, and she surrounds herself with her friends. if she truly didn't care about the other girls, she would have simply expelled them from her world with madoka and kept her for herself. but she does. she cares so bad. it eats her alive and she loves it

every time someone mischaracterizes homura as not caring abt the other girls & only caring abt madoka, an angel dies.

like, how could you completely miss the point of rebellion that fucking bad??? genuine question.

[thorraborinn]

Would it possible at all for you to point me in the direction of how to translate elder futhark runes ie: “Thor, Protector of Humanity”. I’m entertaining the idea of woodburning Norse art.

lol you're gonna hate this. Nobody asks me shit like this anymore so I'm gonna take it too seriously.

Really the answer is "no." I can try to do it for you but I don't think it makes sense for me to say "learn Proto-Norse" and hope for the best. Learning how to do this is a lot more difficult than learning Old Norse or Old English (and tbh "learn ON or OE or OHG" is the actual advice I'd give here). I know you're asking about doing this in general, and not for that phrase in particular, but you happened to provide a good example so I'm going to try a translation and show all my work.

I did put together a very non-exhaustive list of sources on runes available here but honestly that will not get you far here. Turning Proto-Norse into runes is easy, it's the language part that's hard. I also made a big list of deity names in Elder Futhark. Apparently the font embedding broke so it looks like nonsense, and I'm not gonna fight with it now. But the bolded text in each entry can be transliterated into runes. I haven't looked at this in years, but did just update Thor to be more in line with what I have here. Also, don't trust Wikipedia or Wiktionary for this stuff, you can use them as a research tool but verify independently or just use them to find other sources.

If I were in your position, I would consider using Old Norse and the runes that wrote that. Völuspá even gives us a near parallel: Miðgarðs véurr, and one of many ways to write that might be ᚦᚢᚱ ᛬ ᛘᛁᚦᚴᛆᚱᚦᛋ ᛬ ᚢᛁᚢᚱ.

I should make sure sure you're asking what you want to be asking. I'm assuming you want to translate into language that was spoken when the Elder Futhark was used. Some people say "translate" when they mean the less-commonly-known-but-more-accurate "transliterate" (turn "abc" into "ᚨᛒᚲ"). Maybe you just want to go ᚦᛟᚱ ᛬ ᛈᚱᛟᛏᛖᚲᛏᛟᚱ ᛬ ᛟᚠ ᛬ ᚺᚢᛗᚨᚾᛁᛏᛁ and call it a day, and there's nothing wrong with that but you don't need my help for it so I'm guessing that isn't what you mean.

Anyway I'll give you my crack at a translation of the phrase you provided now in case you don't want to read the rest of this but the explanation is after the break:

*þonaraʀ warjaʀ *man(n)akunjas þonaraʀ warijaʀ manakunjas ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ ᛬ ᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᚨᚾᚨᚲᚢᚾᛃᚨᛊ

(the i ~ ij thing is on purpose. word boundary markers optional)

Thor

There are some unclear phonological aspects of *þun?raz > Þórr. Haukur Þorgeirsson recently addressed this (this article is currently paywalled but for some reason the whole thing loaded just fine for me a few hours ago, not sure why), and I find his conclusions satisfactory, which complicates things. Haukur proposes an earlier *Þunurr but doesn't rule out *Þonarr (or earlier reflex of these). By Haukur's analysis the former is easier to resolve within Old Norse but the latter is more convenient with some other proposals already made, especially by comparative linguists. So we find ourselves with two proposals for the god's name in Elder Futhark-era language: ᚦᚢᚾᚢᚱᚨᛉ *þunuraʀ and ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ *þonaraʀ. I'm conditioned to favor *þonaraʀ, but I can't find fault in Haukur's preference for *þunuraʀ within the context of his own paper.

The only reason I'm not siding with it is that it seems impossible to resolve with Old High German donar and Old Saxon thunar (both 'thunder'; compare *eburaz > OHG/OS ebur, not **ebar). So while Haukur's got me convinced that *þunuraʀ seems like a more likely immediate precursor to Þórr, I can't shake *þonaraʀ being what seems to me, at least for now, a necessary precursor to the OHG especially. And for now, "seems necessary" beats "more likely." Of course variation is possible but that isn't a way to handwave conflicting data, it's a whole separate thing to investigate, and I haven't done that yet.

If I were researching something for myself, or for something permanent like a tattoo, I'd keep going and make sure I'm more confident. Even Haukur leaves open possibilities I haven't mentioned here. If nothing else, at least *þunraz no longer seems necessary to maintain (as Ringe 2014 thought following Noreen 1923).

Alternatively, one who does prefer *þunraz as the Proto-Germanic could probably be convinced to allow an epenthetic vowel for Elder Futhark-era language, so we're safe there.

I probably could have left all this out. *þonaraʀ is a fairly normal, mainstream way to reconstruct Þórr. But that wouldn't have been an accurate depiction of the situation. However we work this out, it highlights that what we're doing is not speaking/writing ancient, dead, unattested language. Or, if we are, it's only incidental to the primary thing we're doing, which is trying and sometimes failing to understand how attested words relate to each other, and taking sides in arguments about that.

protector

Selecting a word for 'protector' is difficult. It was only with some hesitation that I went with warjaʀ, a word only attested in compounded personal names like Landawar(i)jaʀ on the Tørvika A stone. It's highly likely to be derived from *warjan- 'to protect/defend.' What's a little weird, though, is that it seems to always be written warijaʀ, in apparent violation of Sievers' Law. I won't get into details here because this post is gonna be long enough as it is, but let it be known the word (and others -- the (i)ja thing recurs a bunch in the Elder corpus) is controversial and my preference for leaving it as it's attested would probably not be universal.

Snorri calls Thor verjandi Ásgarðs, Miðgarðs 'protector of Ásgarðr, Miðgarðr.' To be honest, this isn't the most common use of verjandi; usually it means 'defendant' in a trial, but we can get its meaning from context. We should stop to question whether it could have been used that way some 700 years before Snorri, and once we're satisfied that we can use it we run into trouble again with the non-phonological change of the suffix *-andz > -andi. The *-andz suffix is poorly attested in the Elder Futhark. We have the Tune stone's witada witanda-, but it's a compound word and doesn't give us the nominative ending. Then there's the Eggja stone's suwimąde swimmande and gąląnde galandi which are late enough to be basically fully Old Norse, and doesn't tell us much about earlier language. In Old Norse, these -andi words have the same endings as an n-stem in the singular, and maybe they did in Proto-Norse, but we don't have nominative (or even uncompounded in any case) forms from early enough to be sure. *warjandʀ or *warjanda? Or something else? If not for this, it's the word I'd probably use, and if we want to come as close as we can to technical dictionary accuracy, we'll have to be okay with a shot in the dark at the morphological state of the language.

Also derived from verja are vernd, verndari, vǫrn, vǫrðr. Both vernd and vǫrn mean roughly 'protection' and it makes more sense to say that Thor gives or provides them than that he is them. A vǫrðr is a guard or warden -- Heimdallr is definitely a vǫrðr but I'm not certain Thor is. Most likely, verndari is a later, Norse-era formation, which is unfortunate because it is the word I'd use if we were translating to Old Norse (might go a little bit something like ᚦᚢᚱ ᛬ ᚢᛆᚱ(ᚿ)ᛐᛆᚱᛁ ᛬ ᛘᚭᚿᚴᚢ(ᚿ)ᛋ).

In Old Norse there's also gæta. It isn't attested outside of North Germanic which means relying on internal reconstruction, which isn't great. Kroonen's (2013) *ganhatjan- makes sense and PN *gą̄tijaʀ does seem pretty reasonable as a reconstruction. Semantically, I'm not sure if it's a good fit, though I'm having trouble articulating why. Its meaning should be something like 'to watch, tend, take care of' and in most modern language is more like what Iðunn does with her apples, or what a shepherd does with their flock, than what Thor does with humans, but I don't know that we can be so precise with Proto-Norse and in either case I don't think it's wrong. Actually, perhaps gætir Miðgarðs would be a better way to put it (hint: gætir Miðgarðs < *gą̄tijaʀ miðjagarðas ᚷᚨᛏᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᛁᛞᛃᚨᚷᚨᚱᛞᚨᛊ).

The Norse word hlífa might be closer to what we're looking for, though it might only seem that way because we have little evidence to contradict it. In Norse it means 'to protect/defend/shelter (from something)' and works here, but its attestations in other Germanic languages are a little weak and don't inspire confidence in the semantics.

Given all this, I can't help but feel it's best to return to war(i)jaʀ. Though unattested outside of names, it presumably had an independent existence at some point, and is transparently derived from the verb *warjan- 'to defend.' And maybe most importantly, it is actual, attested language. This is a rare opportunity to forget about what I said at the end of the "Thor" section and connect to real language committed to real record by real people.

As an aside, véurr, mentioned way above, is probably etymologically equivalent to vé + warjaʀ, so *wīhawarjaʀ ᚹᛁᚺᚨᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ.

humanity

We catch a break with 'humanity.' There are complications but they won't end up mattering. There are a few ways to say 'humanity' but they all start man(n)-; we can have our pick of -kin or -kind to end it but -kin is more common, which in PN is *kunja. But the 'man' words in early Germanic languages are a little weird. Sometimes it has one n, sometimes two; it's always two in Old Norse, but it's hard to say if that was true in elder runic language. Fortunately we can sidestep this: in most runes you only write a letter once, even if the sound is long. But to use a connecting vowel or not? Gothic has compounds in mana-, manna-, man-, and mann-. So *man(n)akunja or *man(n)kunja? Well, as Martin Syrett (1994) pounds out, Germanic in general and Gothic in particular are not consistent when it comes to stem vowels in compounds. There's a tendency to spread -a- as a connecting vowel even where it doesn't belong. So we should feel pretty safe that even if *man(n)akunja isn't the inherited form from Proto-Germanic, it was always a possibility. Finally, worst comes to worst, you could just let ᛗ stand for the whole word, given that it's the 'man' rune anyway.

Last, we'll have to put that in the genitive case to make it 'of mankind.' We don't have examples of neuter ja-stems in the genitive from the Elder Futhark but there isn't really strong reason to believe it wasn't *-jas, so: *kunjas.

We've arrived at my answer:

*þonaraʀ warjaʀ *man(n)akunjas þonaraʀ warijaʀ manakunjas ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ ᛬ ᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᚨᚾᚨᚲᚢᚾᛃᚨᛊ

Anyway I hope you don't mind me going completely over the top answering this, I don't think I realized before starting to answer this that I needed to get it out of my system.

[fluffyslug]

Sooooo, what if I told you that (having exhausted the pittifuly small amount of tmnt content in all our state libraries + Dailymotion) my sister and I made up a fan itteration together? Yay? Nay?

Okay, prepare for a full two day's worth incoherent concept sketches and ideas.

Firstly Leo:

I know, I know who he looks like. But don't worry, I stole from all itteraions equally. You'll see.

2012 shaped limbs, 2003 white void eyes, Rise shapes and patterns, 1987-esque knee socks on Leo, the lot.

He's a Spotted turtle. They like the cold more than most turtles, so I'm adding that to him, along with being quick with words and also a scrawny stick boy. Next to Mikey, Leon likes wearing clothes the best, and has this gigantic T-shirt that he belts up and feels like a Japanese warrior in.

Raph was a little harder than Leon.

He's a seaturtle, so he likes swimming even more than his brothers. He'll sneak out to the nearest sewer outlet at night and swim in the ocean whenever he can. But unlike Leon he hates being cold, so his swimming season is short and precious.

Mikey was...a nightmare.

I really wanted 'big Mikey', and I had a pretty clear vibe in my head, but putting it down was nearly impossible. He just never looked like a little brother who was actually huge. He looked like a big brother.

Then I got the vibe. Also, look up Western Painted Turtles. They are gorgeous.

Mikey is fascinated by humanity, collecting and wearing bits and pieces of "human Stuff" all the time.

Now Donnie:

Ooooh boy! This guy! The little alien! This is the immage that lept into my mind and started this whole thing. You may be thinking he doesn't look much like a teenager. And you'd be right. You see... >:}

Donnie wasn't mutated at the same time as Splinter and the others. They were the result of an early Kraang esperiment, but Splinter excaped with three little sons. A few years later, the Kraang mutated another turtle with a new mutigin recipy. Donnie was raised by the Kraang untill he was five, being trained and studied in Kraang-y things and ways.

We haven't worked out quite how the whole thing happens, but basically Splinter was out scrounging for food, and accidentally incountered some Kraang talking about moving the mutant turtle to a new lab. Absolutely panicked, he completely wrecked the entire convoy and broke into the truck, only to find that the child inside was NOT one of his sons at all. But of course, he wasn't about to just leave him there for the Kraang to find, so he brought him back and introduced him to his boys. Raph was skeptical at first, and Leon was cautious, but Mikey addopted him instantly and the others quickly followed suit.

Proportions chart. I love shapes.

Okay, turns out I can't draw rats. This Splinter is an artist, though. He makes it out of whatever he can find and sneaks out to sell it with more layers on than the average homeless New Englander. It makes him enough to buy food and some art supplies, but most of it he keeps in case of some emergency.

This ▲ This is the reason I wanted big Mikey. Big enough to purch on. Big enough to give Rise Raph cuddles. Big enough to be awesome big!

Little Donnie can speak fine, but he's generally silent. He has, however, trained himself to read in French and Japanese as well as English. Wouldn't understand a word of spoken French, but reads fluently. (You know the feeling of realizing you're a creator and can do whatever you want, so you make someone a fan of your childhood comics even though only 1 in every 12,000 people even know what they are, let alone liked them? It's great.)

Guy's hear me out. We all love the responsible/stressed/anxiety ridden Leos. But what about a chill Leo? Just a thought.

Congradulations! You just looked at all that. If you made it through the first five inches you're awesome!

We have so many more lore tidbits and so much more to work out and so much more to think about. I haven't even said half the things she and I were giggling about yesterday. But I will probably be thinking abut these guys for a while, so maybe I'll ramble again sometime.

[psycho100blog]

Ok let’s get this over with.

This was intended to be a separate post but lazy strikes while i was struggling to draw a header image for it.

Tw/ bad english as always.

So the sorcerers arrived at the location right on time. Right before she was about to slit her own throat, someone kicked her hands hard.

The knife fell from her grasp, curse energy emitting from it. Even worse, it was covered in blood, it reeks so much that the stranger can’t help but crunch his nose, can’t believe she tried to use that thing to cut into her, though she will die in the end it’s still gross.

“I take that you did this?” the stranger finally look at her in the eye, she jolted as soon as they made eye contact and looked away, can’t bear to hear his thoughts of her disgusting self, she lower her gaze to his feet and keep it still. She answered his question “Yes, just as you suspected”.

Breaking eye contact was rude but in this case it’s considerate of her not to read his thoughts any further, he nods and take a few steps torward the knife, playing with it using his feet as more people start to come over. That’s the last thing she knows before blacked out and woke up in another temple.

It was more grand and well maintained than the last one, a small trial was held to decide if she’s guilty or not, if she deserve to live or not. Most of the people present there ranged from middle age to elders, the previous stranger look out of place for he looks just about her age.

She was informed that when she was unconscious, they sealed her powers away but the ability to read and manipulate minds remained, therefore they had to put a curse on her so she can never lie, and that makes the trial go smoothly.

Though she killed most of the villagers out of rage, it’s also out of self defense, the villagers suffered the influence of the kishin, the elders deemed her innocent and was willing to provide a place for her to stay.

But the youngster protested, she killed them on purpose, he saw her attempt at suicide, she wanted to pay for her crimes through death, why not just give it to her? She get the death she deserves, we get to give her power to our god though a sacrificing ritual, a win-win.

She didn’t need to speak up because the youngster spoke her mind out loud, like a lawer she never hired. She agreed with his every sentence, accepting her fate.

To both of their disappointment, she get to live for three more years, though still getting what she wanted in the end, she have to live on with the guilt for three more years. In the same house that the youngster was in.

The youngster’s name was Shimazaki Ryou, the house owner informed. Unsurprisingly she’s also a sorcerer, in her mid 20s, lives alone until the elders showed up with that red eyed brat at her doorstep because his parents died a month prior. Thank goodness he can look after his own just fine and the payment she receives isn’t that bad. With another kid in her care, the payment doubles.

The problem is that the two bickers like dogs and cats, so a creative solution was made: make them fight instead of arguing, who wins get what they want and then let the other take the win if they ever fight again and repeat.

The moment Noriko (the house owner’s first name) heard that the new girl never go to school, she knew where to spend her money in.

Ryou is in charge of looking afer her too, just in case of her ever changing her mind and run away, he always have an eye on her at all times voluntarily.

Kiyo is a hard working gal, she learned hiragana after three months of homeschooling. She’s ready to hit the school once april came around.

The thing about Kiyo is she’s a dead man walking. Like she might die tomorrow, Kiyo do whatever she pleased. Stick her nose in things, stopping bullies, resolving conflict, helping friends, go out late, chowing down on evil spirits, all that chuyện bao đồng shit. And he have to drop his things mid-way to look after her. Death really get people acting up.

About death, Ryou think of it as the end of everything, there’s no life after death, only regret, regret for things they could have done, things they could achieve before their life was cut short. People die around him all the time, his mother died gave birth to him, the old man died after years of fighting evil forces, fighting back the curse just to fail miserably and kick the bucket before making any bonds with his son.

Not a long time ago, Ryou sat there at the old man’s funeral, not to mourn but to think long and hard about how to die without regrets, he knew the answer was to live to the fullest, but how? Eradicate more evil spirits? Getting stronger? He don’t think so, but can’t think of anything else. So the question hangs.

Until he found the answer in the girl he found anoying so much. Do whatever you want, without a care in the world, that’s freedom.

You think part two is the end? Think again!!

Thanks for reading💕

(I drew this wayyyy back in 2023 so it doesn't look very good 💀 except for young Kiyo she's adorable)

Name： 川上希佳｜ Kawakami Kiyo

Age: 30

Birthdate: November 1st, 1982

Gender: female

Height: 163cm

Abilities/power: she can gain other people's or other entity's power if she could kill them. Most of her power is sealed off so she wouldn't go berserk. With that, she can only use the first ability that she stole: mind control, but without telekinesis she will need to rely a lot on her combat skills.

Affiliation: an organization that will not be named.

Personal info:

Personality: blunt, honest, say what she thinks, mean what she says, calm and collected. Do whatever she wants as long as it doesn't have negative effects, doesn't think much of how others would perceive her.

Likes: cool weather, music (especially heavy metal), venture into ominous places.

Dislikes: people who can't keep their distance when asked.

Pros: honest, loyal.

Cons: can’t lie, too straightforward, too blunt, doesn't hold back.

Lore dump:

Kiyo grew up in a remote village, located in Hokaido's mountainous region. There was a sealed kishin there, though weakened it can still cause real harm to the locals.

The chief unleashed the seal and fed it with cattles to ask for favors. All of his fiddle faddle wishes (like better health, stay young came true) but little did he know the thing is a master of mind control, none of his wishes actually came true.

The more greedy his wishes get, the more he's willing to sacrifice human lives to it. Gradually it gained enough power to made it’s way into other villager’s mind.

A few years after the seal was broke, a pair of twins was born and they possessed a good amount of spiritual energy. The kishin wanted their lives but it patiently waited for them to grow, observing and teasing them in the process.

When the time came, it harvested the older twin first, replacing her spot in the family. The younger twin was devastated, so did her parents, they tried to expose the impostor but everyone thought the family went crazy.

They were led to a temple only god knows when it was built since there was no such thing in their village. Her father, the strongest living man of the village attempted to fight back but was outnumbered and killed right then, her mother follow suit.

She snapped, her rage bursted and so did her power. The little girl got no idea how to harness it but she was good with a knife. Just like how her father had taught to cut a deer's throat, she pierced through the entire villagers and cut them all down. The more they tried to stop her, the more they fell, the more powerful she gets. All that left was the culprit left standing, the village chief, he tried to call for help but the line was cut.

Eventually her knife made it to the kishin. You can't kill a thing that's never lived, like when your were done preparing deer meat, you eat it.

The village chief's call for help was answered, though a little late. A group of sorcerers made it to the village and found only one remaining survivor.

That's all for now, thank you for reading 🙆‍♀️💕 have a thing i made not long ago.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I am exhausted, good heavens.

[jadelemonadee]

What r ur thoughts on people who twinkify samuel seabury…like when his only personality is being soft uwu boy who gets bullied by hamilton and king george is his protector!!1!1!1!

I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THIS I HATE IT SO MUCH

okay first of all I’ve said this before but i feel like the only reason people see him like this is because of “chaos and bloodshed is not a solution” which caused people to be like “omg he doesn’t like violence such innocent baby protect him 🥺🥺” WHEN HES A GROWN ASS MAN (45 - 47) AT THE TIME OF FARMER REFUTED ☹️ also about the king george thing there’s lots more to his character than just being a loyalist he was a priest / bishop fcs 😞 how about jesus being his protector!!!!! /j another thing about him is that i feel like people tried babying him to make him seem less of an antagonist maybe…??? like ive seen people say “poor sammy he was trying to express his opinion🥺” ok well we’re not rooting for his opinion in this musical ARE WE?? like idk maybe we should let antagonists be antagonists and be in the wrong 🤗 personally i dont agree with samuel’s opinions AT ALL but that doesn’t make him any less kissable in my eyes!!! can we let characters be pathetic without infantilizing them PLEASE i just see him as this annoying snooty man who sees the revolutionists as childish and immature / sees him + other loyalists as above these “barbaric patriots”. also i recall thayne sayinf something on the hamilcast podcast about seabury trying to “save everyone from the king” (i pray the king shows you his mercy) before its too late and i dont know how this aligns with what im saying but i think it tells us a bit more about him (at least thayne’s version) and i just find it a silly detail 😁 btw you guys im only talking about all this from the musical perspective and this has barely anything to do with actual history or the characters’ historical counterparts 🤗🤗🤗🌈🌈🌈🌸🌸🌸

[msburgundy]

my beef with ipa comes down to the fact that i simply do not like, conceptually, that there is a contrived writing system intended to capture every single sound in human language. i would much rather just mix scripts (like throwing a fully english word into a korean sentence and vice versa) i UNDERSTAND why we don't (thus i can forgive romanization etc [to a degree]) and i also understand why in academic contexts such a writing system is quite valuable.

in actual life, however, there is simply no need to represent all those sounds, and you're simply better off learning the native scripts of languages whose influence you encounter frequently

[emotinalsupportturtle]

Authors who use medical jargon to make their prose more sophisticated are so funny to me.

[onnahu]

Maybe it's only me, but the word 'serenely' does not make me feel seren.

Like, when I see a sentence 'he smiled serenely' i can picture it - a peaceful smile, clear face and all, but also I FEEL HOW THAT MAN IS LOSING HIS SHIT UNDER THERE. Someone doing something serenely? For me it gives the context of absolute panic barely conseled.

[lovely-v]

I dont know why I’m so paranoid about which real-world phrases and practices are too unrealistic and immersion-breaking to put in fantasy writing when Terry Pratchett literally had this guy say au revoir