#i used google translate for the arabic sorry for any errors

[madlittlecriminal]

Hey! I saw that you're taking Moon Knight requests! Could you please write Jake Lockley x reader where both of them speaking broken English and most of their conversations are just bickering in their native languages?

Just imagine the fluff where they get together and teach each other the words of love in their languages through the trouble of language barrier 😭🥺

Language ☽ Jake Lockley × Arabian!GN!Reader

i only speak english and spanish, so im very sorry if the arabic is inaccurate. i wanted to try something different that wasn't french or italian. also, because im half mexican and half puerto rican, my spanish is different. words are different compared to those who are from South America or Central America

Warnings: roughly translated spanish to english, translated arabic (NOT GOOGLE TRANSLATE), mentions of marc & steven

*if you speak Arabic, PLEASE correct me if there's any errors! im open for corrections!*

Anyone who didn't understand your relationship would think you and your boyfriend were speaking gibberish.

However, you both knew bickering in your native tongues was very much normal, but it was mostly to yourselves since you didn't know Spanish and he didn't know Arabic. Today was different as you both were bickering about the damn English language. As easy as people made it seem, it was damn well difficult. How the heck was there words that sounded the same, but were both spelled differently and meant different things?

"Ine fakt la moana leh." (It just makes no sense.)

"No sé cómo la gente puede hablar en esa maldita idioma sin confundirse, de verdad." (I don't know how people can speak in that damn language without confusing themselves, honestly.)

"Lediham al-jaraa lekhbary baltehadth ballga al-inglizia?" (They have the audacity to tell me to speak English?)

Now, there stood a confused Jake, wondering if you both were arguing about the same thing or was it something completely different? "What you say?" You looked over at him, confused. "What?"

Honestly, you both were confused as to how you managed to be in a relationship for a few months without picking up some of each others language. Well, Jake only understood very little thanks to Steven and even Marc, thanks to his time as a mercenary. However, it still wasn't enough, but if he was being honest, he wanted to learn more about your language. You only ever picked up on what he meant when he called you "amor" since that's his go-to nickname for you. "Teach me?" You raised an eyebrow at him. "Teach you what?" He smiled. "Árabe."

"You sure?" He nodded and you smiled. "I can do it I think. You just have to be good listener." He grinned. "Well, I call you kalabi which is 'my heart.'"

"So like 'mi corazón' for me?" You tilted your head. "That was what you mean?" He chuckled. "Yes, amor." You felt your cheeks heat up. It always got to you when he called you that. You assumed it was because it was in his native tongue and not in English as you were normally used to. "We say habibi." He held your hand. "Can you teach me to say te amo?" You raised an eyebrow, until you realized what he said. "Anna asada ahbak." (I love you too.)

~~~~

like i said, please feel free to correct me for any incorrect translations in Arabic! i appreciate it. :)

my requests are still open for the moon boys! :D

[what-even-is-thiss]

Fic, You Don't Know Everything

@ts-sideblog requested a fic about Logic getting mad when the others know things that he doesn’t. Let’s see where this goes.

Forgive me for using google translate, by the way. English is the only language I’m native level in and I’m only at ILR level 1 with high German.

Tip Jar

Fic under the cut. 2,093 words. I can’t think of any warnings. Let me know if I should add some. I’m bad with warnings but really feel I should get better because I myself need them for certain things. Please let me know if I should add a warning.

Abstract: Being basically one dimensional aspects of a three dimensional personality, the sides tend to be slightly territorial. Especially Logan, who can’t seem to comprehend anyone stepping out of their assigned role, even though he does so at times.

Logic was checking through his flashcards.

“German? Der Prinz ist dumm. Yes,”

He flipped to the next one. “Arabic. Al'amir ghabi. Yes,”

“Hey Logan! What’re you up to?”

Logic did not look up from his cards. “Not now, Morality. It is none of your concern,”

Patton watched him go down the hall. Logic didn’t notice the stupid Prince approaching.

“Dutch. Die prins is dom,”

“That would be Afrikaans, actually. There is a difference,”

Logic looked up to see if it was who he thought it was. Unfortunately, it was.

“Oh. Hello Roman,”

The silence between them became thick enough to cut with a knife. Logic’s eyes looked everywhere but the regal figure that was blocking his way. Roman’s arms were crossed and he looked at Logic with a cold stare that could drill through rock. After a solid half minute of this uncomfortable arrangement, Logan cleared his throat.

“So, you speak Afrikaans as well?”

“I am the imagination, Logan. I can speak any language I want, even if Thomas does not speak it,”

Roman pushed Logic against the wall and walked past him. Suddenly Logic understood how Thomas had played so many villains in plays. He then willed a trash can into existence and dumped the flash cards into it.

Any language? He could not believe this. He decided to go to a library within the mind space. That was where all the facts and practical ideas were kept. That was his space.

He decided to take refuge in the fiction library. Perhaps he could revisit the plot of an old epic or mystery novel. When he got there however, he found he was not alone.

“Hey,” said Anxiety, hanging upside down off a table reading from a book of works by Edgar Allan Poe.

Logic was slightly taken aback. “Anxiety, why are you here? This is my space. And… I have no memory of having ever read that,”

“You and Princey aren’t the only ones around here that like poetry, pocket protector. Besides, I like this guy. There’s no hope in anything. Everything is creepy. He knows the truth,”

“We have read the works of Edgar Allan Poe?” Logic asked, still not believing it.

“You don’t have all the information, Logan.”

Logan started talking quickly. “Anxiety, that is complete and utter nonsense. I am the mind. I am where the information is stored. How could any of you possibly have any information that I do not?”

Anxiety turned himself around until he sat upright. and then swayed slightly as the blood rushed out of his head.

“Oh, wow. Okay,” he finally righted himself.

“How long were you hanging upside down?” Logan asked, slightly concerned.

“Too long. Here, you want answers? Read this page. Even a literal idiot like you can figure it out. I’ve got somewhere to be,”

Anxiety shoved the open book into Logic’s chest, waited for him to get a grip on on it, and then sunk out of the library.

Logic looked down at the page Anxiety had left open. It had parts of two long poems on it and one short one. Sonnet-To Science.

Roman was walking angrily through a forest he had imagined, hacking at bushes and trees angrily with his katana. Today had not been a good day. He was experiencing a horrid case of writer’s block, he was generally feeling distracted, and then he had heard wind of Logic’s little project from Thomas and it had turned out to be true. On an ordinary day he might not be so bothered by it, but right now he was fuming.

Prince was just about to attempt to cut off a branch with one hack, when Anxiety popped out in front of him.

“Hey, Princey,” Anxiety said, an evil smirk on his face.

Roman screamed a surprisingly high pitched scream and fell over. The forest blinked away and they were standing in his room. A clean bright space with a large double bed and rich decorations that could convince you that you were in pre revolutionary France.

“What in the name of Hades’ helmet are you doing? I nearly killed you!” Roman cried out, clutching at his heart.

“Ah, cut it with the dramatics, Hercules. I’m here because you’re pissed. I thrive under these conditions. So much inner turmoil,”

Roman stood up. “So you are here to make it worse. This is why I do not like you. Well, it is among many reasons why I do not like you,”

“Oh, really? Well if you can spend two minutes of your stupid, ‘happy ever after’ existence being serious, I’ve got an idea,”

Roman looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m bored, you’re pissed, let’s mess with Logan. If we can disguise it properly, I’ll bet we can get dad in on it too. He’s pretty gullible,”

Roman sheathed his sword.

“That would not be a noble thing to do,” He said simply.

Anxiety buttered his words with sweet venom. “C’mon, man. I know you fantasize about being the villain too. It can’t always be me. When Thomas plays the bad guy we’re both right up on stage with him. You know it’s true,”

Roman narrowed his eyes and gave Anxiety a side glance. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Logic’s mind was racing. He jumped from one book to the next, picking up facts here and there. How could any of them know something he didn’t? It made no sense. Nothing around here made sense. If Thomas knew something, then Logan must know it too, right?

He thought back to when Morality had corrected him a few months before. Was he making mistakes like that all the time? Did he just say wrong words left and right? He decided to take a breather. It was almost dinner time anyways.

Anxiety smirked and sunk down away from the library and appeared back in Roman’s room.

“So?” Roman asked, “did you find anything?”

“Oh yeah. He’s worried that he’s using malapropisms. He’s also upset that we know things that he doesn’t. Now if we can…”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Huh?”

“That word. What was that word?”

Anxiety looked confused. “Malapropism?”

“Yes, that one,”

“Oh man. Maybe this was a bad idea. Yeah, this was a bad idea. A malapropism is the misuse of big complicated words, you dingus,”

The prince looked offended. “Did… Did you just make fun of the size of my vocabulary and then call me a dingus?”

“I’ve said before that creativity is not my department. Now are you ready to hit the books or what?”

The next day Logic found the prince sitting on an armchair reading a book of myths.

“Ah, Prince. I was just looking for you. We have… What is that book?”

“Oh, this? These are the Norse myths we have read. Fascinating tales. Ah, stories of death and blood and giants. True poetry,”

“I do not believe we have read that many,” Logic said

“That is where you are wrong. We have read all of them. Every surviving story we could get our hands on. Did you think I only read fairy tales, Logan?”

Logic had forgotten what he was going to ask the prince. He angrily walked away without a word.

Later, he found himself in the kitchen in search of a snack. Patton was there baking a cake.

“Hey there, Logan! What are you up to?” Patton asked, happily clapping his hands together to remove some of the flour.

Logic saw that some flour had gotten on his black shirt and began to hit it in an attempt to get it off. “Would you refrain from getting flour all over the kitchen? And why are you baking anyways? Wheat products are incredibly unhealthy,”

Morality smiled and started mixing the batter with a spoon. “Oh, I doubt it’ll kill ya teach. People have been using flour for over eight thousand years and we’re still all here, right?”

Logic took a double take. “Eight thousand years? Are you certain? I do not remember learning that,”

“Well sure. I’ve got some fun facts up my sleeve too ya know,”

He gave Logic a playful punch on the shoulder with his flour covered hand, leaving a white smear behind. Logic suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore.

Later, Logic was writing down some of his ideas for the newest video when Anxiety popped up.

“You’re worried about something,” Anxiety said.

“And what, pray tell, am I so worried about?” Logic asked as he jotted down some more things on his notepad.

“Circumlocution and malapropisms,” Anxiety said before disappearing without any explaination.

Logic looked up just after Anxiety teleported away.

“What does that mean?” He said, a little too loudly.

Logan stormed into the reference library and opened a dictionary. Roman and Patton had been bringing up stories and facts he had never heard of all day, and now Anxiety had used two words that he did not know the definitions of.

“Circumlocution. The use of many words where fewer would do. When did we learn this?”

He flipped to another page. “Malaprop. The mistaken use of a word in place of a similar-sounding one. Well, I suppose Anxiety was right, but where did he learn those words?”

Roman was listening at a vent with a recording device he had imagined. Morality was bouncing on the balls of his feet. Anxiety was leaning against the wall, hood up, cleaning his nails.

Soon, morality couldn’t hold his excitement any longer. “What’s happening in there? Can you tell?”

Roman listened carefully. “He is ranting to himself. Anxiety, just how confused is he?”

Anxiety started peeling off a bit of nail that had gotten too long. “Imagine rehearsing for ten weeks thinking you’re going to be playing an Antipholus in the comedy of errors only to find you’ve actually been cast as Troy in a stage play of high school musical the day before final dress rehearsal,”

“Very confused would have done,” Said Roman. “How did we pull that off so fast?”

“Do you know what I am?” Asked Anxiety. “I am literally fear. Seriously, do I have to tell you how to add two plus three? I know what I’m doing, Princey,”

“And he is doing a great job!” Patton exclaimed.

“He is coming this way!” Roman announced.

They all vanished before Logan turned the corner.

“Something is happening. Think. Deductive reasoning. This is what you were made for,” Logic said to himself.

Anxiety heard a knock on his door. Yeah, he knew this was a bad idea. He decided to see what would happen if he just didn’t answer.

Logic threw open the door anyways and stepped inside where he immediately tripped and fell over a pile of black skinny jeans and t-shirts.

“Do you have any kind of organization system?” Logan said, angrily getting up.

“What? Not an emotionless robot today, Spock?” Anxiety asked.

Logan gritted his teeth. An angry teacher with messy hair and a look that deadly in his eyes would probably have at least slightly disturbed someone else. However, given how many problems Anxiety caused, he had seen almost every kind of reaction from the others so this did not surprise him one bit.

“Why are you all spitting information at me? That is my job!”

Anxiety leaned against his headboard and put his hands behind his head.

“It’s quite simple, Sherlock. You have been unbearable lately, and you refuse to accept that there are facts, words, and stories that don’t have to do with you. So, with a bit of reading, and a little help from me, Princey and dad gave you one of the most frustrating days of your life,”

Logic took a breath and straightened out his hair.

“I still think you are all trying to do my job. You are all inconsequential. You will see! I know more than all of you combined,”

Logic went off to one of the libraries. Anxiety smiled and murmured to himself after he left. “Never said you didn’t, Mr. Know-it-all,”

In case you were curious about that poem Anxiety shoved at Logic:

Sonnet-To Science, By Edgar Allan Poe

Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!   Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes. Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,   Vulture, whose wings are dull realities? How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,   Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,   Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing? Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car,   And driven the Hamadryad from the wood To seek a shelter in some happier star?   Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood, The Elfin from the green grass, and from me The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?