#maybe it's bc i'm not english first speaker

[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.

[ukulelegodparent]

Still can't get over the fact that my cousin sounds like a Kiwi

[lee-laurent]

T'es ben chix - Luke Hughes

Summary: Amélie decides Luke Hughes is the cutest boy she's ever seen, but she doesn't know how to tell him.

wc: 7k

content: fluff, a little bit of angst, kissing, panic attacks, anxiety, quick make out session, a couple dirty jokes, long distance relationship (let me know if missed anything!)

notes: don't let the title fool you, this fic is still in english!! i realized the other day while doing schoolwork that i don't have a fic that discusses being french-canadian. so... here we are! this fic was super fun for me to write and i incorporated experiences and challenges i have faced over the last few years. a lot of the mistakes that amélie makes are mistakes that i have made or that other french speakers make when speaking english bc sometimes we try to directly translate things and it just does not work lol i reallly hope you guys enjoy!!! and to any other francophones out there: let's be friends!!

just finished writing and it's about 5k words more than i was planning

Amélie honestly wasn't the biggest fan of going out back home, so going out in a place where she could barely speak the language was even worse. But a few of the girls she'd befriended had convinced her it was a good way to get to know more people and to let loose. She sat with the three other girls at a small table, her fingers drumming against the glass of her cocktail.

"Yeah, what did you think of that guy that presented today, Am?"

"Hm? He did... good."

"No, silly. Did you think he was cute?"

"Oh, um, he's... how do you say... not my type?"

"Not your type? Then what is your type, Am?"

"Probably that guy she's been making googly eyes at all night," one of the others teased.

"Who? The tall, curly haired guy in the corner?"

Amélie blushed, sipping at the alcohol for courage.

"Ooo, she's totally into him!"

"You should go talk to him, Am!"

"No... I tell you... no American boys," she waved them off.

"Well, that's too bad. Cause it looks like he's comin' over here. We'll be at the bar if you need us."

"Guys..."

But it was too late, the other girls were already up and headed towards the bar.

"Calisse," she mumbled, trying to ignore the tall figure approaching her table.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up at him, her lips pursed. He had the same curly hair and boyish smile that her friends had been teasing her about. She really hadn't planned on talking to anyone tonight, let alone any boys. The girls knew her rule: no falling for any boys while she was in America.

"Uh... sure," she replied, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her.

He smiled, sitting down casually, rubbing his palms on his pants. "I'm Luke. I, uh, I thought I'd come introduce myslef since we, uh, made eye contact so many times."

Amélie bit her lip, nodding as he spoke. She barely knew enough English to follow what her friends were saying, and now she had to talk to some random guy at this bar she didn't even want to be at. "I, uh, I am Amélie."

"Amélie? That's a really pretty name. Did I, uh, did I say it right? Amélie?"

Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flickering down to her drink. "Yeah... that is right. Thank you." Her fingers tightened around the glass, trying to think of something to say next, but everything just came in French.

Luke could sense her hesitation, suddenly becoming way more nervous about coming over. Maybe it had been stupid. Maybe he was making her feel uncomfortable. "I just thought... I don't know. You seemed nice. Do you, uh, want to talk, or...?"

She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. He was trying and he seemed nice, like he really wanted to talk to her. "I... my English, it is not very good," her accent thickening as she spoke. "It is... hard for me."

Luke nodded, leaning forward slightly. He had teammates that didn't speak English as their first language, so he kind of knew what to expect. "That's fine. I'm sure it's better than my French. That is your first language, right? French? Sorry, I just assumed cause your name-"

"Yes, French," she cut him off, giggling at his rambling.

"I can barely say anything in French, so you've already got me beat."

His attempt to make her feel better worked... a little. "It is easier... to write. But speaking... more pressure, I forget the words lots."

"I get that. But we can just... talk slowly."

She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to continue.

"So, what brings you to Jersey? Not a lot of French people here."

"Exchange... at Rutgers. I am from Québec. Saguenay. But I come here... and I work on my English."

"That's super cool. It's awesome that you're pushing yourself to get better. I, uh, I went to Umich for a bit, but-"

"Umich?"

"Oh, right. University of Michigan. I lived in Michigan before I lived here."

"You move here because..."

"For hockey. I play hockey."

"Oh... that's cool. I like Les Canadiens. You play in the LNH?"

"The NHL? Yeah, I do. You like hockey?"

"Everyone in Québec likes hockey. Very popular."

"But you didn't know who I was," Luke teased.

"Only like Les Canadiens, sorry," she shrugged.

"Well, that's fair, I guess. The Habs are pretty big in Québec, huh?"

"Yes! My family... all big fan." She felt comfortable talking about her family, talking about home, the things she liked. Her dad watched every Habs game on TV and sometimes he'd even drive down to Montréal for a weekend to see them play.

"My family loves hockey too. Everyone plays. My mom, my dad, me, and both my brothers. It's like in our blood... or something."

"They play for... the same team?"

"One of them does. Jack, he plays with me. My other brother, Quinn, he plays in Vancouver," Luke tried to keep it casual, not wanting it to seem like he was bragging.

"Ah! The Canucks!"

"See, you know a bit about other teams," he teased.

"Shhh," she giggled. "Your family... they seem very... what's the word... talented."

"Guess you could say that."

She took another sip of her drink, her mind buzzing with questions to ask, but none of them coming to her in English. She wanted to ask more about his brothers, about how he started playing hockey, but her mouth just couldn't keep up with her brain. She also didn't want to come off as rude or obsessed with him because of his title, so she just nodded.

"You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not judging you," Luke comforted. "So, what do you do when you're learning English or watching the Habs? You got any other hobbies?"

"I like to... read. And bake... when I have time."

"Reading and baking," Luke mused. "What do you bake?"

"Everything," she giggled. "Tarte au sucre is my preferred. My mom... she always bakes with me."

"Tarte au sucre? What's that? Sugar pie?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You'll have to make me that one day. I've never had it."

"Maybe. You will have to see."

"Challenge accepted."

Amélie went to respond, but her phone buzzing stopped her. It was her friends calling, probably ready to head on to another bar. She didn't want her conversation with Luke to end, but she knew she couldn't stay there all night.

"I have to go. My friends... waiting," she sighed.

Luke's face fell a little but he nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But I, uh, this was fun."

"Me too."

There was silence for a little, neither of them wanting to be the first to say goodbye. "You should give me... your phone number. So you can try my tarte au sucre."

"Sounds like a plan," Luke said, handing his phone over for her. She typed in her name and phone number, adding a '<3' next to Amélie.

"Text me," she giggled, waving goodbye as she joined the other girls at the bar. Luke watched as the four of them started talking amongst themselves quickly, giggling as Amélie told them about her conversation with the hockey player.

He finally stood up, making his way back over to the table where his teammates were sat. Curtis raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, how'd it go, Romeo?" He leaned forward, failing to conceal his grin.

Luke rolled his eyes, "Good, actually. Really good."

Nico raised his pint, "Told you. You just had to go for it."

"So... what's next?" Curtis nudged him. "You ask for her number?"

Luke nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, we'll probably meet up again."

"Probably?"

"Okay, fine. Yeah, we'll see each other again. I'm going to try her sugar pie she was talking about."

"Sugar pie? Is that what we're calling it nowadays?" Nico teased, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.

Luke shook his head, letting the teasing slide. His mind was too focused on the girl with a French accent and promises of baking him pie. He had to see her again.

~~

Luke found texting Amélie way easier than he'd imagined. She wasn't lying when she said her writing was better than her speaking. Her texts barely ever had mistakes, in fact sometimes they were worded better than his.

They texted back and forth constantly, which earned Luke some teasing from his colleagues. In writing, Amélie was much more confident, returning his flirting with practiced ease. Her personality really shone through in a way it hadn't at the bar. She'd occasionally crack jokes, usually about how he didn't know any French and that she'd have to teach him. Their conversations flowed, talking about their days, sharing stories, discussing the schoolwork that Amélie had, and sometimes sharing pictures of their meals. Although Jack did most of Luke's cooking, he'd never admit that to the girl.

You have to come and try my tarte au sucre soon! Only if you're brave enough though ;)

Luke grinned at his phone, his fingers furiously typing back a reply.

Oh, I'm brave enough. Just let me know when, and I'll be there.

I will. Maybe next week? I need to make sure it's perfect first.

Deal.

~~

Amélie paced her apartment, making sure that everything was in order before Luke came over. She was even more nervous than she had been in the bar. She really wanted things to go well. They had decided to label the event as their first date, and although a bit informal, she was still shitting herself.

The pie was sitting on her kitchen island, untouched. She didn't want to eat any of it until Luke was there to eat it with her. She was worried he'd get in trouble because it wasn't part of his meal plan for work, but he had reassured it multiple times that it wasn't a big deal if he had a little pie.

Just as she was about to rearrange her throw pillows for the third time, there was a knock at her door. She froze mid-step, wiping her hands on her jeans as she made her way to the door.

It was just a pie. And it was just Luke. Nothing to be too worried about.

She hesitated for a moment before she pulled the door open, tilting her head back to look up at Luke. He was standing there in a Devils hoodie and some track pants, a baseball cap covering his curls. He looked relaxed, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. Amélie hated how nonchalant he looked in comparison to her.

"Hey," he greeted. "I brough my appetite, as promised."

"Good. I hope you are ready," she joked, stepping out of the way to let him in. He pulled off his shoes, taking in her cozy apartment. He laughed when his eyes landed on the big Québec flag hung behind her couch.

"I'm sure it'll be amazing. I'm looking forward to it, don't worry."

She nodded, though her nerves didn't disappear. She led him into the kitchen where the pie sat waiting. The smell of it filled the small space, warm and sweet.

"Wow, looks good, Am. Guess you weren't kidding about being a good baker."

"It's like you with hockey. My talent," she giggled, blushing as their eyes met.

"I don't know. Your baking skills may be miles ahead of my hockey skills."

"Don't lie. Let's see if it tastes as good as the smell," she grabbed a knife, finally cutting the pie into pieces. She placed a generous slice in front of Luke, taking in how comfortable he looked in the situation. She really admired how easygoing he was compared to her. It was their first date, but his demeanor made it seem like they'd been seeing each other for months. Meanwhile, her heart hadn't stopped racing since she opened the door minutes before.

Luke picked up his fork, flashing her a grin before taking his first bite. His eyes widened and he let out a pleased hum, "Holy shit, this is so good."

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding? This is like the best dessert I've ever had... don't tell my mom I said that. But really, Amélie, you've ruined all other pies for me. Can I take some home to show Jack?"

"Of course! I'm glad you like it. Is my mom's recipe."

"You should probably teach me how to make this, so I don't have to beg you every time I want some."

"I wouldn't mind," she giggled, taking a bite of her own slice. The taste reminded her of home and she suddenly felt a lot less nervous about messing up her English in front of Luke. They continued to eat their pie as they talked, shifting the conversation to more personal topics, wanting to know everything about each other.

Luke told stories about growing up with his brothers, sharing embarrassing moments from their childhoods and the occasional hockey-related mishap. Amélie found herself laughing more than she had since she'd arrived in America, her body filling with warmth.

"And that's how Jack ended up chipping his tooth. Our mom was furious, but Quinn and I thought it was hilarious," Luke explained, shaking his head at the memory.

She laughed, her shoulders shaking. "You and your brother... troublemakers," she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. God, she could listen to Luke talk for hours. His accent was the cutest thing she'd ever heard and his smile curved up more on one side than the other, almost like a smirk. He was so perfect.

"Yeah, we were. Still are, I guess. But what about you? You got any fun stories about your family?"

"One time my dad, he take us to Montréal for a Habs game. And my older brother he had... he liked one girl he saw. But she was anglophone, no French. He goes up to her and he tries to talk English. But it was soooo bad. Even worse than me. He only knew maybe like three word. I think he said like 'Hey, you pretty, drink?' and she looked at him like he was... insane! He... he panicked and ran away. We bullied him for years after. Our dad, he will still talk about it at dinner sometime."

"That's brutal," Luke laughed. "Glad our first conversation didn't go like that."

"I am just better than him."

Luke shook his head, flashing his lopsided smile that made Amélie swoon. "Clearly. You've got the charm, no doubt about it."

"Maybe a little. But still I get nervous. When you arrive, I think maybe that I would die."

"You hid it well. I didn't even notice. I was the nervous one."

"You? Nervous?" she raised an eyebrow, placing her fork between her lips .

"Yeah, you were... well you are, like the prettiest girl I've ever met," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want to mess it up."

"Is that a joke? You did not... mess up. I like talking with you."

"I like talking with you too, Amélie"

~~

It was their fourth date and they were back at Amélie's apartment. Luke was sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he playfully scrolled through one of Amélie's French-to-English learning apps.

"Come on, give me a word," Luke teased, turning to look at the girl sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.

"Alright. Alright. Um... try... 'papillon.'"

Luke squinted, trying his hardest to translate it. "Papillon," he reapted slowly. "Uh... sounds like pasta, maybe? Wait, no, wait... um, balloon?"

She let a burst of laughter, learning back against the arm of the couch. "Non! It's butterfly!"

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock anguish. "Butterfly?! That doesn't even sound like butterfly! What?!"

"You are needing more practice," she giggled, comfortly placing a hand on his thigh.

Luke's eyes widened at her touch, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, clearly I need a lot more practice. You might have to become my full-time tutor."

Amélie smiled, her fingers lingering on his thigh, sending a warmth through both of them. They'd been spending more and more time together, and things were less awkward, but still full of nervousness. The banter between them was easy, but there was an ever-growing tension gnawing at them both.

Luke reached for a throw pillow next to him, lightly tossing it at her. "Give me another one. I swear I'll get it this time."

She swatted the pillow away, but her focus had moved on from French. The space between them had slowly been shrinking and she had just noticed how close they were. She tilted her head, her eyes flickering up to meet Luke's. "I think... maybe you are better at other things than French."

Luke's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat at her new tone. He glanced down at her hand still resting on his thigh, then back at her face, then back to her hand again. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like... this."

Before he could question what she meant, she leaned in, her lips brushing his, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but the second their lips connected, everything they'd been holding back snapped into place.

Luke's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened quickly, no longer hesitant, but instead filled with the feelings they'd been dancing around for weeks. Amélie sighed against his mouth, her hands sliding up to his chest, gripping his shirt in his fists. Luke groaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips.

Their kisses turned hungrier, more urgent, as the tension in the room built. Luke shifted, gently pushing Amélie back against the couch as he leaned over her, his body pressing against hers as their kisses grew sloppier. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Luke's hands slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as the kiss deepened.

Neither of them wanted to pull away, not wanting to be the first to end the kiss. Luke realized he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air before kissing her again, harder this time, his lips moving with more urgency than before. Amélie let out a soft, breathless moan in reponse.

They pulled away again, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Luke brushed a strand of her hair, that had gotten stuck between them, out of her face. His eyes were still half-closed as he whispered, "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."

Amélie smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She looked up at him, her lips still tingling. "Me too. I... I did not expect it to feel... like that."

"Good or bad?"

"Good," she whispered, her fingers tracing the back of his neck before pulling him in again, her lips finding his once more. There was no hesitation this time, just unfiltered desire as they gave in to the kiss.

~~

"Where you goin'?" Jack asked, pausing his video game as he heard Luke head for the door. He turned around, noticing his brother wearing his Michigan backpack. "And why do you have a backpack?"

"Amélie's place. I'm spending the night."

"Damn, Lukey boy's finally getting laid."

"Shut up, Jack... there's no confirmation that that's what happening. She just asked if I wanted to sleep over."

Jack smirked, leaning back on the couch with a knowing look. "Uh-huh, sure. You don't pack a bag just to sleep over, bro."

Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the straps of his bag. "It's not like that. We're just hanging out, maybe watching a movie or something."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, lover boy. But just in case, be safe."

"It's not like that," Luke groaned, grabbing his keys off the counter, trying to escape Jack's teasing.

"I'm just saying! Good luck, bud!"

Luke mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the elevator to the parking garage. His heart was racing more than usual, not just because of Jack's teasing but because tonight did feel different. Spending a night together was a big step in their relationship, especially since they weren't officially official yet.

They hadn't even discussed labels yet, and although they were very close, there was an unspoken worry of figuring out where things were heading. Luke really, really liked her, but he didn't want to rush anything. If Amélie wanted to take things slow, then he would take things slow.

He sat in his car, getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.

Just picked out a movie. Hope you like rom-coms ;)

Only if we watch it in French so I can practice

Deal.

When he pulled up to her building, he practically leaped out of the car, taking his backpack with him. He knocked on her door, his heart in his throat.

Just go with the flow. No pressure

Amélie giggled when she opened the front door, dressed in one of Luke's Devils hoodies and a pair of shorts he couldn't see from under the large sweatshirt.

"Hey. You look cute," he leaned down to kiss her.

"Hey! Missed you."

"It's only been three days," he laughed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist, propping her chin on his chest. "You ready for my horrible French?"

"Ready for anything," she giggled as he ran a hand through her hair.

They stood in the doorway for a few moments more, before she grasped his hand and pulled him into the living room. They settled on the couch, a blanket thrown over their entwined legs.

"Am, I've been thinking..." his thumb brushing lightly against her thigh. "I don't want to overthink it anymore than I already have, but... we've been spending lots of time together. And I really like you."

"I like you too, Luke. A lot."

"Good. Because... I want this to be official. I mean, us. I want us to be official. I don't wanna be just 'hanging out' or 'seeing where things go' anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend." His voice softened at the end, his heart out on a silver platter just for her.

"You really want that?" she gushed.

Luke nodded, "Yeah. I want you. I want... us."

"I want that too," she smiled, shuffling impossibly closer to him, pecking his lips.

Luke pulled her back in for a deeper kiss, relief flooding his body. When they pulled apart, Amélie rested her forehead against his, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie.

"So, it is official?" she whispered.

"Officially official. You're my girlfriend now."

She kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. "Well... now that we have... figured that out. You have French to practice... boyfriend."

"Let's get started then, girlfriend."

~~

"So... when do I get to meet her?" Jack grinned, knocking Luke's shoulder.

"Oh, um, I can ask her."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You can ask her?" he teased. "What, you haven't mentioned me?"

Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have, Jack. I just... didn't think you'd be so excited."

"Dude, of course I'm excited! My little brother has a girlfriend now! And you know I've gotta approve, see if she's good for you. Duh."

"She's not a test subject, Jack. I'm not bringing her so you can interrogate her."

Jack snickered, loving how flustered his brother was getting. "Relax, I'll be nice. In fact, bring her out with us and the guys this weekend. Some of the other girlfriends will be there."

"I can ask her. Just... don't be weird about it. She get's nervous."

"Me? Weird about it? Never. I'm charming."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Come on, it'll be fun. She'll get to meet everyone, and you know the guys will love her. Plus, if she can survive a night out with us, she's a keeper."

"Look, I'll ask. But I know she's been busy with schoolwork. I'll ask her tonight. But seriously, Jack, don't freak her out. Please."

"Scout's honour, man. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"You're not a-- never mind. I'll let you know what she says."

~~

Luke laid next to Amélie in her bed, his arm draped over her waist. She was scrolling through TikTok, laughing at French words he didn't know yet. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, peeking at the screen where some girl was speaking rapid French while doing her make up.

"Hey, Am."

"Hmm?"

"So... Jack and some of the guys are going out this weekend, and a few of the girlfriends will be there too," he paused, thinking over his next words. "Jack was, uh, wondering when he could meet you. He kind of suggested you come along."

She blinked, "Meet... all of your friends? This weekend?"

"No pressure! If you're too busy with school, I totally get it. I just thought it might be fun. Only if you want to, of course," Luke quickly added.

She bit her lip, thinking it over, and Luke could tell she was weighing her options. "I'm nervous. I would... like to meet Jack. To be... part of your world."

He pulled her body closer to his, pressing more kisses to her shoulder. "You're already part of my world, Am. And trust me, Jack's been bugging me about meeting you since our first date. He's... well, he's Jack. But he means well."

"Okay. I will come. But if Jack, he makes me feel awkward, you owe me a very good dinner."

Luke laughed, "Deal. And don't worry, I'll be there the whole time. Plus, survivng Jack means you can survive anything."

~~

"C'est très cute, non?" Amélie asked, showing her outfit off to Luke.

"You look like a millon bucks, baby," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"What?"

"It's... it's a saying."

She tilted her head slightly, repeating the words back to herself. "A million... bucks."

Luke thought her accent made it all the more adorable. "It means you look beautiful. Like super, super beautiful."

"English says, they are so strange. First you tell me it rains cats and dogs... now I look like I am money. You explain me all of these sometimes, yes?"

"Of course, baby. But I mean it, you looks amazing."

"Thanks, Lu. We should go?"

"If we have to," Luke pouted, leaning down to give her another kiss.

~~

Amélie gripped the straps of her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never felt so nervous in her life, not even on their first date. She had so many people to impress tonight and probably less than half the words they had in their vocabularies.

Luke was quick to notice her anxiety. She usually walked with so much confidence, but her posture was slumped and her lip was held between her teeth. "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded, but her choked voice betrayed her. "I... I don't know if I can do this."

"You'll be fine, Am," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Jack's going to love you, I can promise you that. And it's just a few of the guys--nothing big. And hey, some of them aren't even native English speakers themselves."

Her eyes were still full of uncertainty, her fingers busying themselves by picking at the skin around her nails. "But maybe I will say something wrong. Or they ask me things, and I do not understand them? Or they will all laugh at me."

"You've been doing so well with your English, love. And if you're ever feeling stuck, just squeeze my hand and I'll come to your rescue."

The bar was pretty empty for the most part, just a few tables of friends talking and sharing drinks. In the back corner, Jack was sitting with a few of the other guys and their better halves.

"There they are!" Jack cheered as soon as he saw them approaching, standing up to greet his brother as if he hadn't seen him in weeks. His tone was loud and confident, and Amélie could feel every set of eyes at the table move towards her and Luke.

Luke gave his brother a quick bro-hug before turning to his girlfriend. "Jack, this is Amélie. Am, this is my brother, Jack."

Amélie felt like all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, her hand gripping Luke's with a vice-like strength. She opened her mouth to speak, but all her words got stuck. "I, uh, I... hi."

"Nice to meet you, Amélie," Jack said. "Luke's told me loads about you."

She gave him a tight lipped smile, her mind scrambling to find a response, but nothing came. She felt like the weight of everyone's expectations were holding her down. She wanted to wow everyone with perfect English, but all she could do was stand there, frozen.

"She, uh, she's a little nervous," Luke interjected. "Amélie's from Québec, she's here in Jersey to learn English. But her French is like the most impressive shit ever."

"No worries. We're just happy you're here," Nico spoke up.

Amélie forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat down beside Luke, her hand still gripping his with immense force. The conversation around the table picked back up, but she remained quiet.

The guys were easygoing, laughing and joking with each other, and the other girlfriends seemed just as relaxed. The more they spoke though, the harder it became for her to follow. She could pick up on bits and pieces of what was going on, but she couldn't seem to form a complete sentence in her head.

"So, how do you like Jersey so far?" one of the other girlfriends, Lexi, asked with a warm smile.

"It... it's very different. But I... I like it," she replied, her eyes not leaving Luke's hand in her lap.

"She thinks back home is wayyyy prettier. Right, babe?" Luke helped to direct her.

"Yes. Québec is very beautiful."

"So what brought you here?" Jack asked, desperately wanting to know more about the girl that had stolen his brother's heart. "School?"

She bit her lip, trying her best to think of how to reply in English. "Yes... I.... study at Rutgers. Exchange."

"That's awesome. What're you studying?"

Her mind went completely blank. She'd even rehearsed answering that exact question, but now, with everyone looking at her, the words were gone. Her hand tightened around Luke's again, taking a sip of water to clear her throat.

"She's studying communications and media. But the point of her exchange is to work on her English skills."

"That's sick," Jack nodded along.

The conversation around her continued, a few questions being tossed her way but her responses were usually just a few words, the gaps being filled in by Luke. The group eventually moved on to a story that Nico was telling, and Amélie used the shift of attention to shrink into herself further. She let Luke rest his hand on her bouncing knee in an attempt to calm her nerves, but his touch felt foreign in the situation.

After what felt like hours, but had most likely only been half an hour, she leaned close to Luke, whispering in his ear. "Je vais aux toilettes." She stood up before he could respond, scurrying off to the bathroom.

Jack shot Luke a curious glance, but he just shrugged, trying to mask his own worry.

Amélie slipped into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was suffocating, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She hated feeling like an outsider, not being able to connect with Luke's world outside of her.

She wiped under her eyes, praying that her mascara didn't run. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying in the bathroom. She just wanted to be like the other girls at the table--relaxed and confident, going with the flow of the conversation.

With one last deep breath, she made her way back to the table. Luke looked up at her as she approached. He could tell something was off.

"Everything okay?"

She just nodded, falling back into her silence at the table. She laughed when everyone else laughed, smiling politely when someone made a remark towards her. Luke had never seen her so quiet in his life, not even on the first day that they met. By the time everyone had left the bar, her anxiety was so bad she thought she might puke.

Luke opened the car door for her, and she slid in, staring blankly out the window. The silence between them was heavy. Luke could feel it too, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel.

"Am, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night. You barely said a thing."

The tears that she had been fighting so hard to keep at bay finally spilled out. "I... I feel so stupid. I-I couldn't even talk to them. I couldn't even... act normal."

He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. His heart clenched at her words. "You're not stupid, Am. You're doing amazing. You're learning a whole new language, that's huge."

"But I had to have you help on everything. I could... not even answer Jack's questions. They normally think... I'm dumb. Not good for you." She wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for crying.

"Amélie, baby. No one thinks you're dumb. And you are more than good enough for me--don't you ever doubt that. Jack loved meeting you. Everyone did. I could tell. They don't care if you need some help speaking English. Hell, some of those guys could use the help speaking English."

"I wanted... to be better. To show I can do this. But I feel...lost."

"You don't have to show anyone that you can do anything. Not to me, not to Jack, not to anyone. I love you for--"

"You love me?"

"Of course I do, Am. I... I didn't want to admit it like this. But... I am so in love with you, Amélie."

"I love you too, Luke. Sorry if I... embarrass you tonight."

"You could never embarrass me, Am. Never ever."

"I-"

"Nope, that's enough out of you. Let's go back to yours and watch that stupid cop show you like."

"Mensonges?"

"If that's what it's called, then yes."

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you too, Am."

~~

"I don't know, Jack. She was so nervous last time..."

"But last time there were other people there too. Just tell her you've got the place to yourself for the night and then I'll walk in a couple hours later and be like 'Oh! Sorry, my plans got cancelled.' And then we can all hangout," Jack suggested.

"I'm not going to lie to her. I'll just ask if she wants to spend the night."

"Come on, Rusty! You know I'm just trying to help her relax around me. You're making it sound like a big deal. It's not! She's your girlfriend, and I want to get to know her. Plus, I'll make it fun! I'm good with people."

"I appreciate the thought, Jack. But I want her to feel comfortable, not tricked. So I'll just ask her if she wants to come over and spend the night. No tricks."

"Fine, fine. Let me know what she says."

"I will. Just... don't be an idiot."

~~

Amélie followed Luke into his apartment, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. She looked around, noticing how painfully obvious it was that two men lived there.

"I'm just gonna put your bag in my room. You wanna go make yourself comfortable on the couch?"

"Sure."

She sat down, curling her legs under herself, glancing around the living room. She picked up the remote off the coffee table, fiddling with while she waited for Luke.

"You good?"

"Yeah. Just... taking in. It is very... you."

"What, you mean messy?"

She giggled, then tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Maybe... un peu."

"Hey, it's organized chaos, baby. I know where everything is. Well... most of the time."

"I like it. Feels... comfortable. Like you."

"That's all I want, babe. For you to be comfortable."

"Where's Jack?"

"Probably in his room. Why? Wanna talk with him?"

Amélie quickly shook her head, her eyes widening. "No, no... just wonder. I don't want to... bother him."

"You're not bothering him. He's probably playing video games or doing some stupid shit. He'll come out here eventually."

The last time she'd been around Jack, she hadn't been able to shake her nerves. Tonight, she was determined to make a better impression, even if she still felt like puking.

Luke gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, you're good, Am. Jack's chill. You don't have to be nervous."

"I know... just... want him to like me."

"He already likes you," Luke reassured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "He wouldn't shut up about how cool you were after the last time."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I wouldn't lie to you, silly."

"Love you, Lu."

"Love you too," he leaned in to kiss her when footsteps pulled them apart.

"Aww, did I interrupt a moment?" Jack's teasing voice came from the doorway.

"Relax, Jack. We were just talking... about you."

"Oh yeah?" Jack pushed himself off the wall, making his way to the couch. "All good things, I hope."

"Duh," Luke squeezed Amélie's hand, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Amélie was just asking what you were up to."

"Probably nothing interesting compared to you lovebirds. Was talking to Trevor--can't let Luke get ahead of me in the whole having a life department."

She tried to think of a quick response to his joke, but came up with nothing she deemed funny enough.

"Luke tells me you like studying here cause it's different. How so?"

"Um, everything... is feeling bigger here. The city, the campus. And obviously... English. There is like... zero English in my town. We use some words... but not lots."

"Well, seems like you're doing great. Don't stress it. Plus you've got this guy," he gestured to Luke, "to help you out, right?"

She blushed, "Yes, Lu is... super."

Luke grinned, leaning in and whispering, "Told you he likes you."

~~

"I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, Am," Luke admitted, wiping the tears from his face. His usually calm, relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a raw vulnerability.

Amélie had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but seeing Luke cry made that impossible. Her tears had started as soon as his had. "You will, Lu. You are so strong. And... I will not be gone forever."

He shook his head, intertwining their fingers. "I know, but... shit's gonna feel so different without you here. I'm used to having you here all the time. And now I won't see you until summer. I don't know how to do that."

"You'll have Jack, the guys, your family. I'm just... a plane away. We will FaceTime, and before you know... I am back. And I will meet Quinn... and your parents."

Luke rested his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair. She could feel his tears soaking the fabric of her jeans. "I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, Am."

"I'll miss you too, Lu. So, so much."

They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped in each other's embraces. Neither of them wanted to let go. Neither of them wanted to admit how hard the next few months would be. They just wanted to stay together... forever.

~~

Amélie was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against her water bottle as Luke's face filled the screen. His hair was a mess and his eyes drooping. She could tell he had just gotten home from practice.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted.

"Hey, you," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "How was practice?"

"Exhausting," he groaned. "But seeing your face makes it better."

Amélie blushed, biting her lip as she smiled. Before she could respond, she heard her brothers' voices coming from down the hall.

"Ah, c'est qui, Amélie?" (who is it, Amélie?)

"Son chum?" the other laughed. (her boyfriend?)

"Ahhh, mais Luke, t'es ben chix." (Ahhh, but Luke, you're so hot.)

"Ferme ta gueule!" Amélie shouted. (Shut your mouth!)

Luke burst out laughing at the look on his girlfriend's face. "What're they saying?"

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "They're being idiots. Teasing me about you."

"Teasing, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What did they say? Come on, tell me."

She sighed, getting closer to the camera with a small smirk. "They said you're... how would that translate.... that you're 'hot.'"

"Oh, did they know? You must have good pictures of me hanging up then, huh?"

"They're just being annoying. They think it's funny to tease me because I love an American."

"Well, tell them I appreciate the compliment. And tell them I say 'hi'," he teased.

Amélie shook her head but shouted, "Luke dit bonjour!"

From the hallway, her brothers responded with exaggerated greetings in their broken English, making the couple laugh.

"They're something else, huh? I can't wait to meet them one day."

"They'll probably want you to ask Cole for free Habs tickets. But... in a few weeks, I'll be back and I'll get to meet all of your family."

Luke's eye lit up at the thought. "I know! I've been counting down the days, baby. I can't wait for you to be here again!"

"Me neither. Excited to meet Quinn and your parents."

"Yeah, my mom's super excited to meet you!"

"I'm a little nervous though."

"Don't be! They are gonna love you so much, Am!"

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you more, Amélie. Only a few more weeks, then we'll be together again. I can't wait."

"You promise?"

"I promise. And I'm gonna spoil you so much. Just you, me, and the lake."

"Can't wait."

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Bayverse Headcanon: What kind of music do they like?

Idk why I had to do this, but I just had to.

Also, one day I might make more detailed versions of these scenarios.

Warning: Long af, spelling bc I'm dyslexic.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Leonardo:

There are a few sides to the leader in blue. The part that sits in the dojo for hours, meditating in complete silence. Probably one of the few things he had to practice on - meditating with noises all around him. And then there’s the part of him that listens to music, while doing mundane things. Whether it would be cleaning his room, taking a shower, a warm up before training or just chilling in his room or on the rooftops. Leo do enjoy music a lot, he just has clear rules for when he can hear it. No modern music in the dojo! Martial arts should be honored, and to do it in other that silence would be an insult to the arts and the old masters. But outside of the dojo, it would be possible to find Leo with a pair of headphones on every once in a while.

Leo is a rock kid. Not heavy metal - no - that is just not Leo’s kind of music. But old school rock and maybe even glam rock. It was usually music with prominent guitar or bass that he often found himself listening to. It kind of fitted the way he saw himself. Th stoic leader on the rooftop, fighting with an edgy soundtrack in his head. Edgy and cool being the way he described it in his own head. It gave him a slight tingle in his stomach, when he jumped from roof to roof with his headphones on, listening to certain rock songs. He felt like a true leader, jumping high over people’s head, listening to “Zitti E Buoni” by Måneskin. When really feeling it alone in the shower, with the same song booming from his blue bluetooth speaker, he would channel his inner Damiano David, singing along to the fast part without any mistakes. Now, Leo is not usually the one to sing along to songs. He doesn't even hum that often, but when he does, it is usually in the shower. But there was this one time Raph walked past the bathroom, while Leo was screaming his heart out to a Måneskin song. Usually Raph would find a way to make fun of his brother for such a thing, but this time Raph decided not to, mainly because it didn’t sound near as bad as Raph though Leo’s singing would do.

Another artist Leo would be singing along to in the shower is Micheal Jackson. He might even do a few dance moves, but he would NEVER IN HIS LIFE, do them outside of a locked bathroom.

One of Leo’s favorite bands had to be Blur. He really liked Damon Albarn’s voice and the guitar of Graham Coxon, and would often find himself listening to them before going to bed. At one point, Leo even tried to sneak out to see all of Blur play live. Did he get in? Yes. Did he watch them from somewhere just below the roof? Yes. Did the bassist spot Leo, blink in confusion, only to look back up to find the spot Leo had been hiding in empty, with Leo having fled the scene? Yes, and that’s why Leo doesn’t do concerts anymore. But he never told his brothers. Mikey would not be happy to know that Leo had sneaked into a concert, while having told Mikey time and time again that he wasn’t allowed to.

Leo has a thing for languages when it comes to music. He grew up in New York City with English as his first language, with Japanese from Splinter following right after as his second. He decided to learn Spanish, just in case it would get useful, and since he had an Italian first name, he also learned Italien. That would probably explain some of his love for Måneskin. But Leo just really liked languages. He doesn’t have to understand the lyrics in order to enjoy it. One prime example of that is the song “Stefania” by KALUSH and Kalush orchestra, even though it is hip hop in genre. Did Leo understand any Ukrainian? Nope. But did he have a general idea of what the song was about, and found the Ukrainian language beautiful and interesting? Yes, very much. He found the courage of Ukraine inspiring, and would often use that inspiration in his training, which is why this is one of the very few songs he will actually train to outside of warm ups.

A true bedroom song for Leo is “Demoni” by Joker Out. He wouldn’t do much while listening to that. He would just lay in bed with headphones one, eyes closed while either bobbing his head or right foot to the beat. Leo isn't much of a dancer, but more a bobber. That was usually how his brothers knew if he liked a certain song; he would bob his head slightly to the beat. That only fueled Mikey’s imagination, creating a picture in his head of Leo head banging in his room to heavy metal, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Stoic Leo didn’t head bang, but he did move at least his head or foot lightly.

Now, what does Leo’s brothers like about his music taste? Well, to be honest, most of the time they weren’t too sure what kind of music Leo liked. They did know that he was into rock, and they knew very well that at this point that he liked Måneskin and Micheal Jackson. But there was this one time while driving the garbage truck, that Leo somehow got in charge of the aux. None of the guys really knew what to expect, but “Gladiator” by Jann wasn’t it. Mikey even said something along the lines of; “emo Leo doesn’t listen to My Chemical Romance”, causing Leo to remember once again, why he normally didn’t want to be in charge of the aux, and liked keeping his music to himself.

Raphael:

Raph listens to music quite often. Probably not as often as Mikey, but still at way more than Donnie and Leo. One of the main reasons why Raph listens to so much music is - you probably guessed it - training. He would often lift his weights to the beat of the music, in a way that most humans could only dream of doing. But he would also listen to music on his own, either riding his motorcycle through the streets of New York City at night, or while knitting in his room.

A favorite song of Raphael’s to ride his motorcycle to was “Would You Ever” by Skrillex and Poo Bear. Swerving in and out of traffic, causing people to yell in anger in his direction, or causing groups of girls to giggle and point at the mysterious bad boy that just rode past them. Covered in a helmet and covered in a big leather jacket and cloves, he looks like a big hunk of a man, showing off his motorcycle. But would Raph play his music out loud while riding down the street? Normally he would not. But there was this one time he just couldn’t help himself. Stopping at a red light, Raph found himself beside an open roofed car, filled with giggling human girls. Most of them were tipsy, and Raph wouldn’t be too surprised if the girl in front of the steering wheel was too. Obviously, they had something for big guys, as they started asking about his name, how old he was, where he lived, or if they could get a ride on his motorcycle. Or if he would come ride with them. Raph didn’t say anything, he just pressed a button on his motorcycle, causing the music to disconnect from his helmet, and started playing from his motorcycle speakers. He saluted them, just as the light turned green, riding away while the girls stared at him in awe. In his opinion, it was very much worth it.

Raph has quite a few songs he liked lifting weights to. One of them being “Hello” by Will.I.Am. When Raphael is lifting weights, he will do it proud and loud, playing his music on a red speaker, much to the annoyance of Leonardo, who very much wants to meditate. When it came to boxing, Raph would often listen to Eminem, hyping himself up with the music or the angry lyrics, causing Mikey to ask him what the hell Eminem had done to him, since he would get the need to hit something whenever he heard his voice.

Raph would almost always find a reason to listen to Eminem. When Raph was angry and wanted to hit something; “Kamikaze”. Should Raph ever find himself mad at a woman; “Farewell”. Was Raph ever in a good mood and just wanted to dance and have fun; “Shake that”. But somehow, when Raph was sad, he wouldn’t listen to Emniem. If he was sad and decided to box, he would listen to The Weeknd. Mikey caught on to that pretty fast, and would do his little brother duty to bring up Raph’s mood, whenever he would hear the voice of The Weeknd from Raph's room.

Like Leo, Raph would also listen to music while showering. But it was while being alone in the bathroom, that Raph would listen to much that wasn’t often associated with big angry muscle men like him. It would often be more pop than electronic or hip hop. And god, how Raph hoped none of his brothers would hear him sing along to “i don’t wanna talk about love”, by Micheal Medrano. Raphael could just shut up and shower in silence, but nope, a man got to groove in the shower. Luckily for Raph, only Donnie had heard him once. Had Donnie laughed his ass off as soon as he got to his room afterwards? Yes, oh my god yes he had. But did he tell Mikey and Leo about it? Nope, he did not. But he did tell April and you about it though, and what a laugh you guys had over the phone.

Raph would never admit it to anyone, but he did listen to Madonna, and he did enjoy it. It started with “Future” by Madonna and Quavo, and before he knew it, he was sitting in his room enjoying both “Like A Prayer” and “Like A Virgin”, which led to him singing “Hung Up” in the shower. Madonna would lead to Dua Lipa, and before Raph even realized what was happening, half of his playlist would be pop power women. Loreen, Lady Gaga, old Miley Cyrus songs. And did he know the lyrics? Oh yes he did. And one time, his brothers would catch him listening to at least one of them.

It was one of those days where each turtle seemed to be doing their own thing, which left Raph alone with his work out equipment and his speaker. As usual it started out with Eminem, Juicy J, Kanye West and others, before suddenly “Rendez Vouz” by INNA. That caught Mikey’s attention, and once he heard and saw Raph dance and sing along from his hiding spot, he went to find Leo and Donnie. And oh, how they fought to keep from laughing when Raph started feeling himself too much, working out to “Work Bitch” by Brittney Spears. After that, the phrase “get to work bitch”, was used quite often around Raph.

Donatello:

The purple scientist is very straightforward with his taste in music. If he likes it, he listens to it. He often has music playing while doing stuff in his lab. Sometimes calming lofi music in hopes that it could get him sleepy, but that usually didn’t work very often. Instead Donnie would often find himself listening to music from the indie scene, or what some people on the internet might call vibey music. Aesthetic music. What aesthetic, you might ask? Well, Donnie had no idea, and he most differently thought that the internet had no idea either. One of these so-called vibe or aesthetic pop songs was “HEAVEN AND BACK” by Chase Atlantic. Tapping away on his computer or connecting whatever hard drive, he found that the music helped him concentrate at the task in front of him.

Though Donnie didn’t seem to notice, his brothers did. Most of the songs he listened to had some not so happy lyrics. Often quite depressive, covered over with bass, keyboard, drum kit and sometimes even a saxophone. At one point Leo had brought this concern up with Donnie, causing the purple turtle shrug.

“Music is music. I listen to what I like”, he said, making another cup of coffee, before going back to work in his lab.

Those few times Donnie finally left his lab to relax in his room, he would read a book, listen to songs like “Quite Quitting” by NOT A TOY. To Donnie, music was mainly background noise, helping him to shut out his loud brothers so he could focus. What the lyrics said didn’t bother him too much. But there is one thing Donnie notices in most of the music he listens to; a smooth bass. It didn’t have to be a loud bass, often becoming part of the background with the drums, being overshadowed by smooth special effects or the singing. Donnie really like bass, but he also like smooth keyboards. There had been times where he had thought of getting a bass or keyboard, or maybe even make them himself. Mikey had his drum set, so Donnie might as well get a few instruments of his own.

Like Leo, Donnie liked to listen to music on the rooftops every once in a while. But unlike his brother, Donnie would usually stay at the same roof, remembering the names of stars, plants and constellations on the sky above him, while listening to songs like “ALIENS” by The Griswolds and Transviolet, wearing big soft headphones. Comfort over looks was important for Donnie, and being a mutant turtle hiding from the people of New York City, he didn’t give a crap about what his headphones look like. He thought they were nice, and he likes to wear them, and that was enough for him. His brothers, on the other hand, thought they were chunky and strange, to which he could only say it was good they were his headphones and not theirs. And it was at nights like those, that Donnie thought of how, maybe his brothers were right about his taste in music. He might be a little different from them, like how the alien was described in the song he was listening to. Not that he worried too much about it. He liked his head and the brain inside it, and with that came being different. That’s just how it was.

But not all the music Donnie listens to is filled with sadness and depression. Songs such as “Strange Clouds” by ufo ufo were a good morning song according to Donnie. When he woke up after finally having had a full night's sleep, he would listen to songs like that, while making breakfast or making his coffee. But then later in the day, sitting in front of the computer screen, once again not being able to sleep, he would listen to stuff like “Numb” by 8 graves. It was the lyrics from that song that had made Leo’s alarm bells ring. Mikey on the other hand wasn’t too worried. He just called Donnie’s music taste “calm edge lord, that doesn’t need to try hard”.

Now, if there was one artist Donatello had to say was his favorite, it would probably be Mystery Skulls, especially “Stronger”. A nice bass in front and center, backed up with synth all around. But Donnie also really liked Luke Black. Way different from all the other music Donnie would listen to, yet he really liked it. He would probably never admit it to his brothers, but he did listen to the lyrics of Luke Black, and he did find it more than a little interesting.

Michelangelo:

Mikey - or as he like to call himself; DJ Mikey - listens to music all the time, every day, everywhere, rarely turning down for the sake of any of his brothers, blasting it oh so loud on his orange speaker, only putting headphones on if his brothers threatened him. Or if Master Splinter asked him to.

He sang along, danced along, sometimes even to the embarrassment of others, like the many times he would scream along to “Turn It Up” by Oliver Tree, Little Big and Tommy Cash.

Mikey likes big, loud and up beat music. Something he can move his body to and be his little happy self. It could be anything from pop to hip hop, maybe even electronic or EDM. It would usually consist of him listening to the same few songs over and over again, until he is getting slightly tired of them, while his brothers are ready to rip their heads off, or maybe dig into their skulls to rip their ears out.

With Mikey being his small ADHD self, it wouldn’t be strange for him to listen to music made by people with ADHD for people with ADHD, making a big deal out of it. One of those songs being “Irresponsible” by Emei. There was this one time he almost made Donnie deaf by blasting the song into his ears while scream: "This song is made for me!"

Much to Leo’s annoyance, Mikey didn’t follow his rule of “no music in the dojo”, since Mikey often found it easier to train with music. This man can do all of his katas perfectly, if only “Hypnodancer” by Little Big is playing in the background.

If there is one thing Mikey likes, it is listening to “Pac-man” by Gorillaz, and making eating pizza into his own version of pac man, in which his brothers are the ghosts, and he has to steal pizza from them. At this point, his older brothers know to keep a good eye on their food as soon as that song starts playing... Or if he just plays Gorillaz at all.

Another thing Mikey likes when it comes to music, is when his brothers somehow enjoy what he’s playing. It had happened before, and it would most likely happen again. Mikey sat in the middle of the lair, happily dancing where he sat while reading comics, playing “Go Bananas” by Little Big. Raph didn’t growl at him from his bench press, but instead started to lift the weights on every other beat. Donnie sat at his computer, pressing the keys of his keyboard in beat with the song, probably without noticing. And Leo was bobbing his head ever so slightly while sharpening his katanas. This had Mikey over the moon, which only caused him to want to play more music for his brothers. Every once in a while they would let him do it, just to make their little brother happy. That was the main reason why Mikey is the aux guy.

When Mikey decided to skateboard, he would most often do it with old school hip hop playing. As a turtle in the sewers of New York, that only made sense to him, which is why he often would skate up and down the sewers, vibing with “The Message” by Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five. And of course Mikey could rap the whole thing. Now, this was one of those few songs that Leo, Raph and Donnie didn’t mind Mikey playing over and over again.

But then there were those times on patrol where Mikey just would start singing out of nowhere. When he started breaking into “Sax” by Fleur East, complete with thought out dance moves in the way only Mikey could do it, Raph was ready to throw him off the roof and down to ongoing traffic.

It would be no surprise to tell you that one of Mikey’s favorite artists is Little Big, and that he also loves Gorillaz. But he would also quite often listen to the music that his brothers were playing. He very well knew that Leo loved listening to Blur, and that most of Raph’s playlist was made up of power women, and that Donnie’s secret favorite was Luke Black. And of course Mikey could sing every single word to the songs of his brothers' favorite artists, being the little attentive brother that he is. And because his music taste had room for more than theirs had.

—----------------------------------------------------------

You can tell I’m European, can’t you?

[90sbee]

Pull the rope, choke me with your love.

Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader 6k words (yeah, sorry not sorry). Also on a03

It feels like coming back to the surface, you think. Leon breathes loudly, panting. He kisses each boob once more, tenderly, resembling a “goodbye”. You look at his motions with half-lidded eyes, and you’re unable to move your gaze away when he detaches from your body, his hand re-emerging from your cunt with traces of your dried blood on his skin. You gasp but Leon barely notices it, rubbing the maroon strokes against his tactical pants swiftly, without any complaint, as if simply getting rid of paint after handling a canvas.

Both of you choose to delay the mission. Maybe it is because there is a confession that you can’t delay anymore.

I guess this is what happens when you get horny in your period. @navstuffs saw it first. @emilzke, you'd say you'd read something like this so, in case you feel like it! (No pressure tho,  mean it!!) Content: Smut. Period sex. Everybody is a switch. (Sub!Leon my beloved). Sex with feelings bc the mutual pining is strong. There is some plot but like, it's mostly smut, ngl. No use of y/n, tons of pet names. Stupid banter, age difference. DI!Leon specifically since I don't think any other version works? Hints of size kink, as usual. Coming in pants. Dry humping (sorry not sorry there is no actual penetration in here. They do have a good time tho. Multiple good times). Warnings: +18 ONLY. Have I already mentioned blood? Yeah, it's not that bloody tho, I promise. Hair pulling, crying during sex (i promise Leon was enjoying it, tho, no dorks were hurt in the writing of this fic), mentions of choking but no actual choking in here. Biting, scratching? I'm not a native English speaker so, apologies for any mistakes.

Being around Leon always felt like pulling a rope, the material tense, and tense, until letting go of the rope would cause you two to be hurt.

Oh, but what a delightful way to go that would be.

Missions with him would be easy. Well, as easy as putting your life on the line can be. His presence was always a blessing, a protective wall of a man always up to keep you safe. And he did it, numerous times he received cuts, and got bruises on his skin, and once even let his bicep —that one that he would always touch obsessively since then— kiss a bullet, everything to keep you safe.

Even out of missions, Leon was there. He would remain close, check on you. “Gotta make sure my partner is alright,” he’d say, and the way he’d accentuate his words would get you dizzy at times.

The rope felt more like a red string now.

Caging you, his warm body on top of yours now, barely attempting to remain prude.

“You’re gonna freeze to death,” he had said, closing the distance between you two. The whole mission today had been a fiasco, even if Leon had been eyeing you more intensely than other times, stepping closer, more protective than usual. It had actually been his idea to turn back when it became glaringly obvious that infiltrating into the building would take more hours than you had planned. Retracing steps, radioing for back-up that would take until the very next morning to show up with more ammo, and finishing with the directions to a nearby safe house, which was sadly devoid of anything helpful to endure a fall night like this. “Don’t worry, they say body heat is actually the best heater,” he’d teased you, as you buttoned up your light jacket. But when he’d actually pushed you onto the ground and clumsily climbed on top of you, you knew he was serious. And though it wasn’t the first time you two had ended up so close, bodies tangling in each other, it was the first time he seemed so devoted to get that physical contact.

You let him have that. The night is not that chilly, the morning is not so far away. In the bleak, scarce space of the cabin, there aren’t many options. Sure, you could spend the night talking yourselves awake, back to back. Or maybe one of you could rest their head on the other’s lap as the other keeps a lazy guard.

But you choose to be close. Fucking close, breathing in each others’ faces. You know by now that the rope is about to cut, that you’re going to end up crossing the limits, but for now, there is no stopping. In the secluded safe house, you let Leon breathe close to your ear, pretend you don’t realize what he may need. After all, you followed him way too compliant today, no ifs or buts about delaying the mission, resting your head against his shoulder as he radioed for the damned helicopter, letting your hand graze his on the way to the cabin.

Maybe neither of you want to wait anymore for the rope to break on its own.

“You okay?”

He sighs then. Brows furrowed as he nods, his expression serious.

“Yeah,” his voice is raspy, a lingering exhaustion dripping from his words. “Just wished we could have finished with this already…”

Your hands swiftly move to his back, fingers rubbing softly over the thin material of his jacket. Leon melts a little at that, breathing against your face. A soft growl escapes his throat when your hands move higher, pressing against the muscles of his shoulders.

At that, he does seem to feel a bit flustered, looking to the side, towards the rusty cabin door. You attempt to hide the chuckle that leaves your mouth.

“What’s so funny?” He snarks, his cheeks already pinker.

“You’re literally a whore, Kennedy.”

“Jeez,” he raises his eyebrows, finally looks back at you. “You’re being an absolute darling tonight, huh… ” he muses, a smirk crossing his face.

“It’s your fault. You’re the one that decided to get on top of me, unprompted.”

“… C’mon. You know we didn’t bring any camping equipment for this crap…  Just lemme take care of you.”

His explanation is, of course, true, but teasing him seems like a better pastime for this chilly night. “Well, still. I’m a lady with boundaries. Maybe I do not want a sweaty man on top of me.”

“Excuse me?” Leon licks his lips, his face leaning a little closer to yours now. “I’m not just a sweaty man, I’m your mission partner.”

“Yeah, my mission partner that decided to moan after I just massaged his back a little.”

“God, I did not moan,” he puffs out his cheeks, shaking his head.

“Well, maybe you should.”

A silence rings through the cabin as soon as you utter those words. Much to your surprise, but not regretting them. Leon stares at you, gaze unreadable as he tilts his head. You begin to feel a little nervous, your hands slowly abandoning his back.

Why would you even admit it that way? Too straightforward, too blunt. Yes, he is your mission partner, he’s got your back all these years but… What if it was just that? A good partner at work. Simply a kind man. The possibility of having confused his chivalry with affection makes you feel stupid.

You suddenly feel small under him, and you gulp, trying to squirm away from him.

“Wait, no. What did—what did you say?” He finally reacts, one of his hands cupping your cheek now.

“Nuthin’.”

“Didn’t sound like nuthin’ to me,” he presses.

Leon looks at you, and there is a new glimmer in his eyes. A certain hunger, encompassing his words and his presence. It invigorates you with a sort of bravery, and you nod, very slowly, your eyes not even leaving his. Your hands go back to their place, on his back, but this time under the jacket, under the grey t-shirt he is wearing. You observe his reaction, as a little prey seeing how much she can test the waters before death comes upon her.

His gaze moves away from your eyes, lower, until it reaches your lips. And then your hands ascend on the skin of his back, scratching slowly.

“F—fuck,” is the only thing he can manage out before his lips descend onto yours, kissing clumsily, biting the tender flesh with desperation.

The rope has fucking snapped now. You both know it. And it stings, but the burn is good, so fucking good, as his teeth bite harder, as if eager to make your lips bleed.

“Since… since when?” He demands, catching his breath.

“Don’t be fucking stupid. Since always,” you reply, kissing him once more, already missing the taste of his spit, the roughness of his mouth.

It’s as if oxygen was running out of the room, mind dizzy with him, his smell, his hands now attempting to reach under your t-shirt, but you move away, mouths parting for a moment. Leon stops, a question in his eyes. He knows you. He knows the way you react, can notice that he hasn’t overstepped anything, that your trembling figure is still comfortable under him.

“Just… you. Lemme… lemme touch you,” you try to explain, in a daze, hands now gripping his hips, and he groans against your ear. You take off his jacket, strong arms getting caressed while you do so. Leon breathes heavily as your fingers dance on his jaw, as your mouth licks his neck.

“Shit,” he lets out, every single pleasure point in his body reacting to your actions.

God, he has wanted you for so long. Trapped between his job and the impossibility to properly care for you, to have you in the way he actually desired you, he had promised himself to protect you. In and out of missions, a shadow always behind you. If he would have nothing else in his life, so be it. Just your presence would be enough. His heart is thumping, rattling loudly in his chest as the woman he’s adored for so long presses her affections on his skin.

He moans louder, hides his face against your shoulder. Lower, his cock twitches, rapidly filling up with desire.

“C’mon… Grind on me, Leon,” you murmur, words sweet as a spell.

God, if this was a dream he’d never want to wake up. And if he had somehow died, this was better than any Heaven he could have imagined.

“What are y—are you fucking serious?” He tries to inquire through heavy breaths, already losing his mind. It doesn’t even cross his mind if you would want to go further, if he could sink deep inside you, but rather, his brain is mush from just the idea of having you like this. Fuck it, your invitation sounds like a blessing to him.

“Please… You’re so good to me…” you add, needy.

He growls again, but in the way a wounded animal tries to scare its hunter away. He is fucking broken, deliriously split apart into a thousand pieces because of you. At your feet, drunk in your smell and your minx-like hands.

You move your pelvis, legs interlocking around his hips, the feel of your cargo pants against the hardness between his legs making you whine.

God damn. He is already hard anyway.

Leon obliges, as if enchanted by you, unable to refuse such a delicious proposal. Your hips move in tandem with his, and his hard cock aches in his pants, grinding slowly against your clothed cunt.

“Fuck,” he whines out, as your fingers then graze the skin on his back once more, deliriously making him lose his mind. “Gonna kill me, huh?”

You bite his jaw once more, wetness pooling between your legs with every moment. It is funny, how hours before the dark cabin seemed to be a cold refuge, yet now it seems to ooze warmth, sweaty bodies full of desire.

And though this Heaven seems way more than a man like him could bargain for in a hundred lives of sainthood, Leon breathes heavily, suddenly aware that this might be wrong. It might be, since you’re younger than him, and he has been your mission partner and you two work together and mission partners cannot be involved and—

“No, we—we shouldn’t…” he stills himself then, voice heavy.

You look up at him, gentle eyes blessing him from underneath his body.

God. You look so beautiful and his heart is gonna jump out of his chest and he wants to continue but you will surely agree, right? You’re too young, too soft of a creature for someone so broken like him and—

“Why?” you caress his back slowly, tilting your head.

The openness of the question throws him off his mind.

“Well, we… I mean… I…”

“We can stop if you need it,” you quickly add, nodding. You want him, yeah, but most importantly, you respect him. It is the least he has earned, after all his loyalty throughout the years.

He gulps, and shakes his head.

“No, I do want it… I just—” Leon huffs, licking his lips, still in disbelief.

“Leon… I want you. Been waiting for this… Been craving you,” you try to explain it in devotion terms, a language you’ve both shared for a while. He seems more relaxed at this, and hides his face on the crook of your neck, his breathing steadier as you stroke his back.

“I promise… Promise it’s not just about…” he begins, but you nod.

“… I know. I mean… I imagined so,” you admit, belly heating up not just from his weight on top of yours.

A confession.

He stays quiet for a moment, arms flexing as he changes his position, lets himself fall a little closer to you. It’s clear he won’t ask for it again, but god, you do want to give it to him. Boner already needy, body too vulnerable to be left like this.

Once more, you do it for him. Move your hips gently, chasing the pressure he provides against your cunt. Leon then moans, kissing your neck.

“I… I can?” he asks, tentatively.

“Yes, please.”

He won’t ask more, no need to ask twice. Though his brain may be hazy and overwhelmed by your perfume, he knows nothing could compel him to stop this, not now that he knows you want him.

Your hands return to his back, scratching the skin harshly, noticing how his breath hitches.

“Oh, god,” he coos, closing his eyes. His pelvis dancing harder against yours, movements faster.

Leon finds your mouth once again, trying to kiss his shame away since he already feels so close. In between the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a long while and the fact that, heck, it’s you… He is trying his hardest to stretch the moment, to not ruin it already…

But you do notice it, of course. When you pull apart one of your hands goes to his jaw, forcing him to look at you.

“Leon.”

“Fuc—yeah?”

“Ask me… ask me for anything you want… You deserve to feel good.”

He fucking growls at that, so entranced by your words. His hips suddenly stopping for a moment, his heartbeat accelerating.

He has almost come.

“Pull my hair, please,” he breathes out after he is sure he can continue for a bit more.

Swiftly, your hand moves to his hair, grabbing a strand at the back, near his nape and pull hard.

“Oh, fuck,” his movements are faster now, cock rubbing too harshly against his underwear and his pants but he needs it, needs you so much. You pull his hair once more, your other hand clawing at his back as you also grind against him, the spot between your legs already dampened.

The sensation feels like too much and not enough at once. It hurts from how sensitive his member is, rubbing himself raw against your legs, but oh god. You offer him the hottest sight he has had the pleasure of witnessing in his life.

He presses his face against your neck once more, panting next to your ear, unaware that he is painting your skin with his own tears.

“Gonna come… Fuck, gonna come,” he cries out, moving faster and at some point you grind against him too, pressure becoming too much as you pull his hair and, fuck.

His elbows almost give up, unable to hold himself properly on top of you, but he avoids crushing you with all his weight still, as he rides out his orgasm, now tasting the salty tears he had spilt.

Leon breathes heavily… but he doesn’t want to stop.

Quickly, his mouth sinks on your neck, kissing and biting, causing moans to leave your throat.

“Le—Leon,” you pant, body sensitive and wetness already ruining your pants.

“Need to touch you… please? Need to taste you…” he begs, and one of his hands goes to your belt, buckle released as he nears your zipper…

You groan then, in frustration, and he frowns, gaze back on your eyes.

“What is it?”

“I’m… I’m on my period,” you admit, barely a whisper.

You look at him, shame crossing your features, the bitter reminder that your body may have ruined the moment that you have dreamed about for so long. “Sorry,” you add, voice timid.

“Hey, no, no apologies,” he immediately coos, his hand travelling to cup your cheek. He looks at you with an immense softness from his glistening eyes, full of love. Leon sighs before moving forward, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Would you like to stop?” He asks, close to your mouth.

Your thoughts are hazy, body still churning from inside. It’s clear that you don’t want that option but you’re unsure on how to proceed under this situation.

Leon rests his forehead against you, his face awaiting for your reply. There is no rush in his tone, quite the opposite in fact. He looks at you as if willing to stare at you for his whole life, existence content with just the sight of you. That gives you more confidence, even with the threat of uncertainty on the horizon: you trust him. You trust him more than anyone else.

You shake your head.

“Good girl,” he praises you. “I’ll just make you feel good, take care of you, okay?”

His voice is raspy, but soft, resembling his touch. A little harsh, a little rough as he pulls the zipper down and wriggles your pants down. Yet the pads of his fingers are exquisitely tender, caressing your thighs. Your underwear sports a huge damp spot just in your gusset, but Leon seems blissfully willing to ignore it, even through your heavy breaths.

He moves lower, pulls your t-shirt up slowly, immediately kissing the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck,” you mutter, curving your back.

“Attagirl,” he moves to kiss the other hip, biting slowly.

You moan then, skin shivering under his motions, his touch.

“… You’re teasing.”

Leon chuckles, kissing near your navel as he rubs your sides and your arms.

“You know, I don’t hear you complaining, though.”

Ah, he is acting cocky now. You giggle, amused at his remark, while one of his hands rubs your inner thigh.

“Bet you’re so frustrated that you can’t touch more,” you shake your head, looking down at him.

“Who said I can’t touch more?” Leon says, raising his eyebrow.

“Wh—Oh,” you try to ask what he has in mind when he swiftly moves his hand straight to your cunt, rubbing your clit over your panties. “F—fuck.”

The sonofabitch… You close your eyes, body slowly tensing under his touch. Leon rubs a little faster for a moment, and you move your hips, breath hitching in your throat.

“This okay, baby?” he checks, motions slower and gentler.

“Yeah… Yeah,” you open your eyes, nodding. He looks up at you, places a kiss on your belly once more. Your hand moves to tangle in his hair, needing something to ground yourself before you get lost in him.

“I got you, I got you,” he says, gentle, so fucking gentle you could melt in his hands, as snow under a strong relentless midday sun. You sigh, trying not to overthink your situation, how at any point your body could embarrass you, end up staining your panties with blood or…

“You’re nervous,” Leon says, serious.

“I’m not,” but your voice is a little shaky.

He snarks. “Can’t make you come unless you relax… Do you trust me?” Leon moves closer, leaning forward, almost against your face once more though he never stops rubbing your clit. The motions make you delirious, contact too soft but so good… You mewl, dizzy.

“I do. I trust you.”

“Good,” he remarks, and he kisses you. You notice his hand moving from your panties to your back, his mouth biting your lips with delicacy as Leon unclasps your bra. You whine at that, but he keeps on kissing you, his presence overtly strong and reassuring on top of you. Yet he doesn’t feel overwhelming, but rather, comforting. Like a wall against which to rest, like a pouring rain after a dry summer.

You think you love him. You’re quite sure you did before, but when he moves his mouth lower, biting your jaw and licking your neck as his thumb gets lost under your panties, you’re certain that no man could ever own you in the way he does. Handling your body with the most utter softness, as if dealing with a piece of Heaven. His thumb dances between your legs, stopping just on your clit, and Leon starts circling it, again, and again, and again…

“Oh, shit,” you moan, your heartbeat racing. You can barely keep your eyes open, overwhelmed by his devotion. His touch is desperate, even more heightened by how much he licks your neck, kisses it.

“Doll, look at me,” his words are heavy and clingy.

“Ye—Yeah?” you feel so utterly broken already. Leon moves his thumb faster, the circles making you moan once more.

“Want to use my mouth, can I? Please?”

By now you don’t know what he means, but you immediately nod. Like you’d do during missions, when you would simply take a leap of faith, you let yourself jump with him, letting him guide you to wherever he deems more appropriate.

You already trust him with your life. What difference could this make?

“God… so gorgeous,” he beckons, more to himself than to you, smiling. He quickly moves your t-shirt and bra out of the way, before diving his mouth to your breasts. There, he licks, and kisses, tongue painting your nipples with his saliva, as if blessing your body with his sin, letting you shower in his desire.

“Fuck, Leon…”

He continues moving his thumb gently, and you’re about to moan when you feel his middle and ring finger dancing on your lips, toying with your entrance. “Shit” more of a complaint, your tone raspy. His thumb presses harder against your clit as the other couple of fingers keep the sweet motions, never diving inside you. The thought of him probably getting his fingers messed up with your blood crosses your mind, but then Leon bites your nipple, before lovingly pulling it between his teeth. His thumb is now moving faster, circles rougher on your most sensitive spot, as the other fingers keep teasing your opening.

Your moans are the loudest symphony filling up the room, mixed in with the way he whines, mouth obsessed with your breasts. You curl your back, your hips getting hazy and desperate as Leon increases the speed of his movements.

You wished you knew which good deed you committed in another life to be blessed in this way now. As careful as possible, you grab onto him, as your hips are now dancing against his thumb, chasing after his touch. You’re half-breathless by now. You scratch his back, his arms, sink your nails into his nape as he bites the other nipple, sucking it harshly.

“Gonna come, God….” you whine out, thighs trembling under him.

“Good… Please, come for me,” his tone is the farthest thing from a command, but it seems to drive you exactly there. The way he desires you, desires this so fucking intensely… The heat in your stomach sweeps away with everything as he licks around your nipple and his finger toys with your clit once more. You melt under his touch, coming obscenely loud for him.

And the worst thing is that he continues, his mouth hungry still, his fingers circling, rubbing up and down your abused flesh, until you cough under him, unable to whimper anymore.

“It’s… Need a pause,” you let out, barely able to utter words yet.

It feels like coming back to the surface, you think. Leon breathes loudly, panting. He kisses each boob once more, tenderly, resembling a “goodbye”. You look at his motions with half-lidded eyes, and you’re unable to move your gaze away when he detaches from your body, his hand re-emerging from your cunt with traces of your dried blood on his skin. You gasp but Leon barely notices it, rubbing the maroon strokes against his tactical pants swiftly, without any complaint, as if simply getting rid of paint after handling a canvas.

He doesn’t fucking care. A man used to dealing with death, and grim and pain. It’s not the first time that he’s felt the warmth of your blood, as he has patched you up after the most gruesome missions, as he has held your bloody hand after you cut it with a sharp glass at home. He doesn’t fucking care, but rather he feels relieved, the comfortable knowledge that, this time, the blood has nothing to do with you being hurt. This time your blood doesn’t feel like knives digging into his skin, him boiling with concern. It’s just a warm reminder that you’re safe, and alive, and that he is finally touching you in the place where’s imagined himself drowned with you a hundred times already.

This is real. Leon is not dreaming, not this time.

You breathe out, calmer, his gaze feeling like returning home.

You’re still catching your breath when he leans closer, kissing your forehead.

“You okay?” he mumbles out, concern in his tone.

“More than okay,” you smirk.

Leon chuckles, amused. He lets his body fall on top of yours, still in between your legs, and he searches for your hand: takes it in his, the thumb that so much pleasure had brought you now caressing your palm.

“Babe…” his voice is sultry, and as he moves your thighs open with his own, you immediately notice the hardness pressing against your leg. Still, the contact seems too much for him, and he whimpers against your neck, his actions devoid of any shame.

“Damn, Kennedy, again?” you tease under him, cheeky stare defying him as he looks at you.

“Mhmh,” he replies. “I understand if you don’t want me inside, but…”

You cut him off with a wheeze. “Fucking subtle you are.”

“Hey, you want me to be fucking explicit?”

“Sure, let’s hear it, big guy,” you hold his hand tighter, as if prompting him to attempt anything, but immediately his cheeks go a few shades pinker. “Ow, getting shy on me?”

“You’re being fucking cocky for someone who just had an orgasm. Maybe I should give you another one to see if you calm down,” he lets out, eyes deeply boring into yours.

“Is that the special treatment you give to the ladies you sleep with, huh?”

“No, just you,” he replies, gallant.

You can’t say you don’t want it. Leon kisses you again, his tongue licking your lips and you moan for him. He squeezes your hand as his other hand goes between your bodies, to his zipper. You can barely notice the belt unbuckled, the zipper falling down. He bites your lower lip and maneuvers his pelvis closer to yours.

Fuck it. He just wants you. Whatever the duration of that miracle is, he wants to enjoy it, to pleasure you again, to be as close as the moment allows it. Even if this was the last time in his life he has you, he would commit this sight —of you under him— to memory.

He loves you: wants to get you drunk on him, on his body. A silent conjuring, a way to win you over. Because God knows you have him wrapped around your finger, red string of yours choking him as he devours that notion, of being owned. A fucking dog on a leash, and even if that was just a mere strained rope, he’d paint it red with your blood, force all heavens and hells to make you two work, intertwined by the same unbreakable bond.

The cabin feels suffocating. Leon kisses your neck, murmurs praises against your skin. It is overwhelming, and gentle, and so much and he hasn’t even started yet. Sighing next to your cheek, he grabs your thigh, pulling your pants even lower, adjusting his covered boner just against your cunt, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“Oh, God,” you let out, squeezing his hand even harder, since he hasn’t let go of you. It is an anchor as you experience this, as the cold breeze that enters the room kisses your nipples.

“You’re still with me? I can go gentle. Just want us to feel good, won’t ask for anything more,” he asks, moving his hips slowly against you, contact electrifying even if you’re both still wearing your underwear. You nod, eagerly, and he sinks his body closer once more. You grip onto his shoulders bringing him even closer as his hips slowly dance against you.

By now, all concerns, all fears are simply gone. In the humble little moment that you’re both sharing, there is no place for anything else apart from the devotion you hold for each other. Leon kisses you, needy, as his member rubs against your clothed clit, and his mouth seems to replicate his needs, with how delirious his tongue makes you feel.

“Fuck, Leon,” you mewl, mouths parting just to breathe once more. He smirks, his eager mouth kissing your jaw, your neck.

“You don’t know how long I have waited for… for this. For you,” and the way he says it gives you goosebumps that have nothing to do with the cold air that enters the cabin.

“Leon…” you pull him closer, as close as he can be. His body is practically on top of yours, his member rubbing faster against you.

“Mine,” he asserts, remarking his words with another squeeze of his hand. The other one grabs your thigh, opens your legs more so he can lock himself even closer, grinding harder.

The air makes him dizzy, the sight of your willing body under him gets his heart wild. Fucking hell, he has already came in his pants once, is he gonna do it once more just from humping your cunt? Leon whines, the feel of your hard nipples against his t-shirt making him lose his mind. And when you touch his back again, just like earlier, he moans.

He doesn’t care what happens to this mission, doesn’t care what happens to the rest of the evils of this world as long as he can see your precious face like this, as much as he desires it. This thought pushes him forward, and he starts to move his hips faster.

“God, god, oh, shit, Le…” you whine out, his motions rough as he chases his own pleasure too. But it feels so good, even if it hurts a little, even if your soaked panties do nothing to protect your decency by now, even if period droplets are probably leaking out of your panties.

You don’t want it to ever stop. Desperate, you let your hand go from his grip and hold him against your body with abandon, fingers directly against his skin, keeping him there. Leon growls at this, understand your needs and humps you faster, biting your neck, half-breathless.

It’s such a stark contrast to the way you two always treat each other, both on the field and on your day to day. It as if now that the veil is gone, that everything has fucking snapped, there was a certain aggressiveness that needed to be let out, that was always under the surface, ramping up, eager to crawl out of you. But it’s also full of passion, as his teeth never mark you too much, and your nails don’t draw blood from his skin.

Maybe you two needed this: a love that was a little broken, a little violent. A tender purging of your sins.

A connection born out of loyalty, out of blood.

You moan loudly when his movements get messy, rhythm getting distracted.

“Please, hold it in for me?” you beg, unable to ignore the signals of his desire. “Just a little bit” you add, knowing that you just need his rough touch for a moment longer, your body still craving his magic.

Leon nods, panting.

“I’m gonna—gonna come soon,” he warns you, trying to not let his cock ruin the path of euphoria he wants you to walk.

“It’s okay, me too, Le.”

“…Fuck,” he whimpers, and you pull his hair once more, your legs hugging his hips.

His thoughts are all mush thanks to you, but he can still hear how the sweetest moans escape your mouth, so he keeps going. Too sensitive, too hard, underwear soaked, but he continues for you. At some point his member rubs against your clit, harshly, and it is too much for you.

You kiss him, moaning into his mouth as you come, panties gushing out your juices and even some more specks of blood. Your whole body spasming, unable to keep quiet.

God. His pretty angel, his pretty girl, the most deserving of eternal springs and of the most devoted love. Leon has always felt you owned him. Not trapped, but rather at peace with you. Fuck, he is certain now. You carry a fucking leash, tied around his neck and he has no choice but to follow you, stay beside you. Both a shadow and a lover, stupid smitten dog but he wants to guard you forever.

He has wanted to hung up the Moon for you since the moment he met you, so when he finally sees your blissed-out expression, the moonlight caressing your face, he feel like he deserves it.

Not just this. But you.

His cock is leaking precum, it aches, needs to let go. He pushes harder, knows that he can, because you let him, because you scratch his back and search for his mouth as he grinds harshly against you.

He comes. Hard, pouring his seed onto his boxers.

It’s as if he could die now.

Both of you sigh, slowly. Leon kisses the bitemarks on your neck, you press the pads of your fingers gently against all the scratches on his back. For a little moment, the world doesn’t breathe. Just lets the two lovers that have finally found each other revere in this contained breath.

All that needed to be said, to be done, to be pinched and purged and snapped, it’s finally out.

You caress Leon’s jaw, look at him through sleepy eyes.

“I think… Think mission partners don’t do that,” you say, voice raspy but a smile etched on your face.

Leon smiles as well, his heart overjoyed.

“Nope, they definitely don’t,” he replies, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chuckle.

“You’re okay?” You ask him, cupping his cheek and Leon closes his eyes, sighs.

“I should be asking you that, baby.”

You now have the decency to blush at the pet name. And when he opens his eyes, and kisses your palm, you feel like your chest could explode from holding so much light inside of it. Oh, he could call you anything and you’d just let him. He owns you. You’re pretty sure he does, that he painted his name with your blood on your cunt, a bloody and tender signature, marking you as his artwork, ruining you with his cum for anyone else.

“Is that pet name gonna stay?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” He asks, moving to stand up, but you giggle and pull him closer to you, your legs still holding him down. Leon wheezes.

“We can discuss pet names and the such after… a date. ‘Cos you owe me a date, Kennedy.”

“Oh, we’re really back to last names, now? Dang it,” he lets out, and you can only laugh.

He is a fucking dork. Always will be. Maybe what will be different from now onwards is that he will be yours.

That night you fall asleep in each other’s arms. Your underwear has been irreparably stained, his boxers as well, the zipper of his tactical pants does not zip up anymore. A constellation of lovebites, scratches and the remains of your period. All bloody and needy and most delicately violent.

Too rough. Too honeyed to survive you both.

Leon hugs you tightly in his arms, comfortably cuddling as if it isn’t the first time.

Maybe your bodies dreamed so much of this day that they both instinctively know how to position arms, how to tangle into each other as to breathe the other in.

Maybe no string was snapped tonight, but rather, you pulled it so much, that it sank deeper into your veins and just pulled you two impossibly closer.

If you've made it to the end, cookies for you! Also, may write more for this two, I liked the dynamic a lot. (I love soft dorky Leon, can you tell?)

[epistolarymoon]

well I have to admit that I was pretty obsessed with Will’s cute little fangs from the first time I saw it,glad Mack did that too(whaat?) The whole work is fascinating I had to stop couple times in the middle of reading to roll on the ground, the progression of vibes were so subtle,you worded it in a beautiful way that is very engaging even for a non-English speaker,definitely love it 😘 Maybe there's no sequel but IF we got one,like,would they bring up the kiss someday？meanwhile still calling each other dude lol

tysm for reading!!! so glad to hear you liked it and that it was still a good read for a non-native English speaker :) will smith hockey fang enjoying surpasses all barriers :)

so there is no sequel in the works bc i actually never thought that far, and also i'm indecisive. HOWEVER, after having thought about it a bit, a hypothetical sequel would probably go either one of two ways, which i'll go into after the cut to prevent clogging up people's TLs bc i have can't-shut-up disease lol:

Scenario 1: they start fucking

this is a scenario in which they start regularly "hooking up" except it's just like. giving each other bad handies on the road as roomies and also kissing in the grossest way possible. they like it but also it's just that neither of them are good at it, so c'est la vie. and both of them are like. this is fine. this is just buddies. [smitty voice] we will stop this when we get girlfriends, which theoretically should not be hard bc we're like. famous athletes now or whatever. except they kind of have no game, and also aren't trying very hard to HAVE good game bc sometimes u nut so hard from ur buddy's too-tight handy that it's a little mind-blowing and like u know what. not thinking about it. this is fine. everything is so normal.

and they're also not idiots so they're a little self aware about the fact that this is very weird, but they both refuse to say anything about it bc it's like [if i put it into words it becomes real] and so sometimes they make eye-contact in the middle of it and will thinks they have a moment of understanding pass between them, except mack is rlly just like [wow look at that he came before me that's ten-seven to me i think i'm winning at sex??] and it doesn't become real to mack until he sees will all giggly with one of his like. 80 other boyfriends (idk like zeev or leno or gabe or musty take ur pick) and he's like. wait that feels soooo bad. and he gets all sulky about it. and so all the while will's like wtf is wrong with mack, mack is having a come-to-jesus moment like [mack voice] maybe my desire to stick my fingers in will's mouth is like. emotional horny in addition to regular horny!!! and somehow he ends up communicating this to will in the clumsiest way possible who tries to play it cool but can't, and then they live happily ever after having bad sex for the rest of time.

Scenario 2: they do NOT start fucking

this is a scenario in which mack tries really hard to play it cool after the fact, and will's sort of just there, really smug about the fact that now he knows mack's like. into him. and so bc he's a teenage boy who ostensibly has seen a Lot of porn, he's like. [will voice] hey what if i start putting things in my mouth suggestively, like this popsicle, or this pen. and it's actually like. deeply unsexy and honestly kind of cringe, except mack is also a teenage boy and he's like [mack voice] Into It. also he's incapable of hiding anything he's feeling in his face so he looks at will all clearly hard-up and dismayed about it.

except a couple of days go by and mack isn't doing anything about it, and will is getting kind of sick of the whole playing it cool thing, because okay maybe he's just misreading everything. maybe mack doesn't want this. okay. okay. so he stops doing all that (thank god). but then one day while he's just like. idk. sitting in his car waiting to pick mack up for morning practice he's got his necklace chain in his mouth kind of thoughtlessly and mack gets into the car and is immediately so hard that he gets nauseous and is all like. [mack voice] dude Why Are You Doing This To Me. and will is like. what do u mean, because this time he actually has no idea what he's doing, and also he's kind of worried about how hard he's flopping on the team and wondering if mack is going to like. drop him as a friend bc he's flopping so hard.

and mack hooks a finger around the chain in will's mouth and sticks his finger back in there without asking, and now will's hard in the driver's seat of his car at eight in the morning and they have really long awkward eye contact before mack eventually withdraws his hand silently and wipes all the spit on his pant leg. and then will turns on his driving playlist which is just like. katy perry's "roar" and they drive to the rink in silence.

then after practice mack gets will to drop him off at jumbo's and is like. okay i think WE need to get this out of our systems. [mack voice] maybe it will be good for our hockey. except wil knows that he really means maybe it will be good for YOUR hockey, so you can stop flopping so hard. and so he's like [will voice] well if it's for hockey. and they have bad sex about it and nut so hard that they sees stars. and nothing gets resolved emotionally!!!

The End.

SO YES. these are the two ways that that could have gone i think. of course in both scenarios there are constants: they are bad at sex, and also emotionally unintelligent. and also they do continue calling each other "dude" and "bud" and it's all very tender.

sorry for rambling :") and who knows, never say never about a sequel. i DO plan on writing more for willmack at the very least!

[standgrand]

hiiii!

i just want to remind you that your "i love you" + landoscar christmas daily writting challenge's such a bold move bc i just can't with such quality and consistency! Kudos 2u, i really mean it

just have 3 questions for you:

1 - after the challenge, do you still want or have plans to continue the plot further or we should expect some closure?

2 - how hard do you think it's to write some of the spicy scenes? As a non english speaker myself, what kind of obstacles that's expected during this kind of development?

3 - can i dream of a chapter (even if its one) when lando takes full charge of oscars' desires? asking for a friend (the friend is me who imagine the switch of their dynamic for a day)

I'm sorry for the overwhelming ask, maybe i'd been carried away......

Hiiiii omg thank you for the ask I've been dying to talk about my work like this !!!

I'm reaaaally really glad you like it thank you

Sooo firstly ! This little Christmas challenge takes place in the whole serie I started for Zandvoort so I'm almost 100% I will continue to expand the plot further with the upcoming season. I can't imagine closure for now at all. The whole story (the serie) has a timeline :)

Then, I was so scared about writing spicy scenes at first because, for sure, English isn't my first language (but I'm still speaking and writing it fluently) but I think the only thing to so is just to write how you want it first, without changing or upgrading thing and then you just read what you wrote amd change it until you like it. I do think the obstacles are, first and foremost, the scary feeling of messing the writing, but I genuinely think that it's proper to each one of us. It's just a challenge you take, and you might surprise yourself. That's what I did !

And finally ! I was thinking of doing it, a change of dynamics, but I wasn't so sure because I've had Oscar as a top since I started, but it might be a great thing to try in the future though! I don't think I can make it fit in my Christmas challenge, but while writing this answer, I can definitely picture it in the next thing I planned !!! So yeah, why not? I'd like to try and write this !

Thank you for all your questions ♥️ ❤️

[codename-adler]

Oohhh a French speaking AFTG fan!

Can I ask what’s the general opinion on the Marseille accent? What do Canadians think of it? Is it fancy? Or rough?

ouhh what a question anon! i'm tagging @givemethedamnflowers so she can help me out too if u want to <3

also i don't speak for all Franco Canadians / Québécois. fiy. ya know.

as a Québécoise first and foremost (Canadian comes 2nd in how i view my identity), and as someone WHO HAS A MOREAU FROM MARSEILLES in my close family, i love the accent. to me it's somehow much less grating than the Parisian accent (not the international French accent, that one's ok) despite being much more pronounced and how do you say... quirky? not weird, but like it's definitely peculiar. special! i like it a lot. it also makes me love Jean Moreau even more because it adds character, an edge, another area of fondness. i personally think it's very easy to spot, but contrary to the north of France, it's easier to understand.

i would say the most northern accents are much rougher, more difficult to understand than Marseilles or Paris, also because of the disparity in colloquialisms and regional expressions. but i do love them so. Bourgogne?? Normandie?? oh how lovely. and then down down down down south, neighbor to Marseilles, l'Occitanie (a fave)!!! oh and la Corse!!! so so beautiful to me. music to my ears. maybe bc, as Québécoise, like i said, i feel a little kinship with those regions' accents, bc the Paris/Île-de-France spit upon our accents as shitty, ridiculous, "not real French" or generally make fun of us, like we're somehow less smart bc of the way we pronounce things and speak with our accent. in my experience! and trust me, i've had a lottttttt of 'em. so the little scene where Jean keeps being annoyed by Thea calling him 'Paris' when he's from Marseilles? ACCURATE & GOLDEN! made me smile.

that being said, as it has been discussed many many times in the fandom, characters like Neil, Kevin and Jean, and even Andrew and Nicky, have such wild backgrounds, with how much they move around geographically + their mixed heritage, that all of them must have unique accents you can't really pin down. Jean left Marseilles at 14, was homeschooled, then forced to learn Japanese then English, in West Virginia, from native Japanese speakers. he doesn't have the Marseilles slang, the refs; his French is stuck at that level and it can't progress, and he also probably loses a lot of it, breaking down over time. finding his words must be a a nightmare. imagine trying to translate a word that isn't even considered French nor translatable outside of Marseilles' region!!! also, how old were his parents? what generation of slang has he picked up by default? or was he, sadly, taught international French?

SO MANY QUESTIONS! UGH! aftg & languages, French specifically, give me a headache (and heartache) every time.

i would say, watch films and series! please! from every part of the Francophonie around the world! Belgium, Louisiana Cajun, Acadia, Québec, Marseilles, Niger... it's a beautiful language, despite his devastating shameful hand in colonization and racism. the way the people forced to learn and speak it to survive have all found ways to make it theirs in infinite ways that help the language evolve and become richer. French is as much theirs now, if not more. French is much more that than the Republic. French is not Paris.

thank you again anon for allowing me to go off on a tangent, and apologies if there are any mistakes, misinformation or harmful things. please let me know kindly and i'll own to it and correct anything that needs correcting!

[ranahan]

i've been pondering how mando'a-as-first-language speakers might tend to parse [θ] and [ð]... we know <x> = <sh> thanks to ryan kaufmann (which i'd say must be canon enough since traviss didn't contradict it) and [f ~ p] and [z ~ s] from Traviss, (and maybe <vh> = [f] at least dialectally a la Vhett -> Fett, but I'd prefer to think that's more a matter of Basic speakers parsing [ɸ] as [f] than [ɸ ~ f] being widespread in mando'a) but I don't think we have any data on how they'd tend to parse [θ] and [ð]. I like the idea of th-fronting where [θ] becomes [ɸ] and [ð] becomes [v ~ ʋ] (Kiwi English is allegedly developing this phenomenon), but since mando'a phonotactics don't seem to allow [ɸ] outside of a syllable-initial position (of course since vhe- words are the only example we have of <vh> the data is a biiit limited, but if we assume it's true) I do wonder how likely mando'ade would be to parse, for example, the [θ] in "cloth" as [ɸ], or if they'd be more likely to parse it as [t] or [s]. Tho I do also like the th-fronting bc I wanna distance <vh> from <f> as much as possible :') Not a cipher! 🗞️

On the other hand I'm a bit charmed by [θ] -> [s] as well, mostly bc I associate it with the Askie pronunciation of ת‎, historically [θ] which has in different regions either remained as such or become [t] (Modern Israeli) or [s] (Askenazi). But then the lack of [z] for [ð] (since [s] and [z] are not readily differentiated among mando'ade) makes it less ideal imo. I mean ofc they could be mismatchy, it's not like [ð] and [θ:] were replaced with other sounds neatly and evenly in Finnish (and there's that variation across dialects, which of course would be a thing among mando'ade as well--) But yeah, [ð] could be, if not [v ~ ʋ], then [d] or even [ɾ] or [l]... for obvious reasons I find the idea of the [ɾ] realisation pretty charming :')

anyway, uh, thoughts?

(yes i am thinking abt this bc loan words mostly)

(also. while generally i prefer [f] -> [p], ~kevhe [or whatever final vowel would be best...] for caf is much nicer than kep, lol...)

I’m afraid your ask is going to be better thought out than my answer!

I did think about the same thing, then thought about the option of ð being loaned as dh in Mando’a, and then got hung up in determining what the heck Mando’a phonology even is, and what do the dh etc. spellings stand for. And then never really got back to loanwords.

But now that I’ve found an answer that satisfies me, I do have a whole bunch of things I’d like to loan to Mando’a actually, because I for one don’t buy that a language of an empire, itself a creole (if you subscribe to that headcanon), does not have many loanwords. You know that joke about English mugging other languages and riffling through their pockets for loose vocabulary? I think it would be more realistic for people to make similar jokes about Mando’a, and how Mandalorians plundered half of the galaxy and half of the dictionaries too. (Yes, this is the hill someone else will die on.)

Anyways, yes I do have thoughts. Sorry this is going to be very long and rambling because these are more of immediate thoughts rather than something I’ve formed a considered opinion on.

Like you, I’ve also noted that vh only occurs in syllable initial position in the Mando’a dictionary. But! There’s a Mandalorian world called Ceravh, which as far as I can tell comes from Traviss. I’d give that even odds of being Mando’a or being (perhaps a Mandalorianised version of) a native name of the colonised world, which could indicate that Mando’a could use syllable-final vh in loanwords at least.

But anyways, another option I have thought about is that a word-final φ could get loaned as v. Even if Mando’a doesn’t allow a syllable final φ, the voiced counterpart v is very common in that position. So e.g. caf > kav. Or heck, how about h? > kah. Idk how sensible h would be, it just popped into my mind as something that could sound similar and is allowed in the coda.

Another option of course is that Mando’a could insert extra vowels into loanwords, like e.g. te reo Māori which basically keeps all of the original sounds and adds vowels until the word conforms to te reo phonotactics. So e.g. caf > kavha or kevhe or whatever the vowels would be. There’s this quote, which has a different context, but be used as a precedent if you wanted? “Pronouncing terminal consonants varies in songs. They often become extra syllables. For examples, tor becomes to-rah and tang becomes tan-gah to maintain rhythm and meter.”

On the other hand, loanwords, especially old ones, could also be subject to Mando’a���s habit of contraction. Which tbh seems as much fanon as canon to me in that canon shows some contraction and elision (especially in compound words), but fanon has observed that pattern and taken it as a licence to go an extra mile. I kind of love that kind of an emergency and it’s what got me interested in Mando’a in the first place. I digress, but I’m trying to say faithfully borrowing every single sound is not necessarily the way I’d go for Mando’a. Maybe borrowing syllables as the closest equivalents would feel better? Idk, maybe I’ll try a couple of different approaches with some test sets of loanwords and see what happens.

I do generally like f > p, but… Idk, the results don’t always compel me? They don’t sound unlike Mando’a, but also not exactly like Mando’a either? I mean kav feels more like Mando’a than kap to me. Same for vhervhek vs perpek (although for obvious reasons, perpek does appeal as a curse). But on the other hand, fan > pan vs van vs vhan? Not much of a difference. And Fi > Pai, Felucia > Pelucya/Pelusha, even Falleen > Palin/Paliin do sound good to me. This is probably because while there are words that end in p (like kotep, taap), they are pretty rare. While words ending in v or beginning with a p are a dime in a dozen.

I agree that Vhett being spelled as Fett is a transliteration from Mando’a to Basic, and not necessarily indicative of how Mando’a L1 speakers would adapt loanwords from Basic to Mando’a.

Re: θ/ð, I’ve previously considered t/dʰ, but I like both s and th-fronting better! Those would be the closest fricatives, wouldn’t they.

Mando’a doesn’t seem to have /z/, which seems to be an allophone of /ts/ rather than /s/, if you go by Traviss’s recordings. Or maybe it’s an allophone of /s/, if you go by some comments. Heck, maybe it depends on the dialect. So perhaps you could go with s/ts, or level them both as s? I guess it would depend on whether z gets loaned as ts or s?

Or go with th-fronting (θ > ɸ, ð > v) in syllable initial positions, and for the coda, either voice the θ > v, or add an extra vowel after it, or allow φ in the coda for loanwords. I think that at least for dialects that realise <v> as [β], th-fronting sounds really close. I like it!

And since some Mando’a dialects seem to have [b ~ v] (or perhaps more likely [v ~ β], or maybe some dialect has /β/ which is heard as /b/ in some others…), after making the rounds in Mando’a dialects, a loan word might even end up with ð > v > b.

Full disclosure, I also like how either would make loanwords a little less immediately recognisable. But on the other hand, loanword phonology is also affected by the speakers’ understanding of the donor language, which might bias e.g. /t/ over /s/. Idk though how much we need to nitpick realism in an artlang though. Enough to ground it, not so much the art goes out.

And then we of course have the loan words Traviss picked from English:

besom /ˈbiː.zəm/ > besom /ˈbɛ.sɔm/

Bergen /ˈbəɹɡn/ > birgaan /bɪɾ.ɡaːn/

TAB /tæb/ > taab /taːb/

hyem /jɛm/> yaim /ʝaɪ̯m/

charva /ˈt͡ʃɑːvə/ > chaav’la /ˈt͡ʃɑːv.la/

chebs /tʃɛbs/ > shebs /ʃɛbs/

scran /skɹan/ > skraan /skɾaːn/

scunner /ˈska.nɐ/ > skanah /ska.nah/

(Geordie) way aye /ˈwaɪ.eɪ/ or (Pompey) weee /wiː/ > wayii /wa.jiː/

dinny /ˈdɪ.nɪ/> dinii /dɪ.niː/

jack /d͡ʒæk/ > jag /d͡ʒaɡ/ ?

(I’m not counting mhi and kando from that linked post, since they—or at least kandosii—are pre-Traviss Mando’a.)

Bit of a guess at the pronunciations because I’m not a Geordie and Traviss doesn’t do IPA, but I’m getting the feeling that the vowel qualities don’t match up that well. I might have loaned Bergen as *bargen or *begen instead. Besom i > ɛ I can excuse as levelling the vowels to the same height, which seems like something Mando’a is prone to. ɛ > aɪ̯ is interesting. But generally, I’m not sure what I’m looking at here? Maybe just artistic licence?

Of course if actual historical loans, we’d have to consider that those words might’ve been loaned from a dialect or at a time when the pronunciation differed from modern/RP pronunciation. Plus I at least like to think that Mando’a itself has many different dialects, so I’d be willing to excuse a degree of artistic licence and inconsistency, especially when it comes to vowels which are more fluid to begin with. Afaik it’s also not weird for natural languages to exhibit even considerable variation in loan word adaptation.

Ch is loaned both as ch and sh. Syllable-final r seems infrequently loaned (birgaan) or not (chaav’la) or loaned as h (skanah)—perhaps this reflects the (non)rhoticity of the dialect from which the loans came from, because Mando’a does have syllable-final r’s. Otherwise the consonants in these words seem unremarkable.

Talking about r though, I think there are some words in Mando’a where n > r in certain environments (or at least that could explain some etymologies). I guess it wouldn’t be too much a stretch to extend that to d and maybe ð. You can hear [kote], [kode] and [koɾe] or the Republic Commando OST. Imo this is simply the effect of singing on pronunciation (I was a trained singer once upon a time, I could go on about this), but Traviss seems to have taken it as t and d being interchangeable, or /kode/ being the archaic pronunciation and /kote/ modern.

Also as an aside, I kinda want to work out the phonetics of Huttese, because clearly Huttese (or trade/pidgin/creole Huttese, whatever they speak as a lingua franca in the Outer Rim) has lots of Basic loanwords, and I think that many Basic loanwords would probably arrive to Mando’a via Huttese rather than directly from Basic.

tldr: You have seem to have thought more about this than me. Do you have more thoughts? I’m not sure how much sense my reply made; it was bit of a brain vomit. I’ll probably go read some things and come back to this later with hopefully more sense, but I wanted to reply now because I’m not sure how busy I’ll be in the near future.

P.s. you wouldn’t happen to remember where you read about <x> = <sh>, [f ~ p] and [s ~ z]? I mean I remember reading some of those same things, but it was at least a year ago and I don’t seem to have saved the source (whoops). I can probably look up the source myself if you remember where it was. Might it have been this forum thread? “So, Xaga might have been "Shaga" (incorporating that "sh" sound the Mando like) and Zuka could've been Suka.”

[uriekukistan]

hi i trust ur translations so i was wondering in 266 the first panel which is more accurate for what fushiguro says? “that's enough” or “you've done enough” ?

hi omg first of all thank you 🙏 actually i'm really glad to talk abt this bc it's such an interesting line. it's a very tricky translation honestly (megumi said the same thing in 251 and there were like 5 translations...), so this will be a bit long.

he says it twice in the chapter, but the meaning shifts due to context & a grammar structure that doesn't exist in english, even though he says the same thing. i'll put my translation first, and the explanation after bc idk who wants to read all that 😭

on page 1: "That's enough." on page 2: "But I've had enough."

also i HATE the "you've done enough" translation. i'll explain why in the rest of the post, but essentially, the focus of the sentence is megumi's feelings, not anything yuuji is doing...also the verb "to do" isn't even present here so,,,,,idk maybe that's just me.

basically what megumi says in japanese (もういいんだ), word for word translates something like "it's/i'm good already" or "it's/i'm good enough" (japanese omits pronouns often, so it's/i'm is up to context).

the thing that makes this translation tricky is the particle ん. it can be used for a few things, but in this case, it places an emphasis on how the speaker is feeling, which leaves the phrase up to interpretation a bit more, since it could be expressing a lot of different emotions. for megumi, i'd say it's defeat/resignation.

that's why there's so many discrepancies in translations, because translators are trying to find a way to carry that contextual emotion over into a language that isn't built to hold it. word for word translation here doesn't really do the phrase justice. it sounds very detached in english, comparatively

like megumi said the same phrase in 251, and it was translated several ways, but because of the very personal nature of the particle ん, i prefer "i've had enough," as a translation for this because it centers megumi and his feelings of defeat.

at the beginning of 266, i can see "that's enough," as a good translation because he's addressing yuuji directly and telling him that he can stop, basically. again, it's still very personal, so i don't really understand the "you've done enough" translation. the original sentence honestly doesn't have anything to do with yuuji. it's solely about megumi's feelings.

the second time, he actually says でも、もういいんだ (でも means "but" or "however" - not sure why it wasn't in the official translation 😀). the context has shifted to him talking about what he wants and what would make him happy, and the conjunction links the phrases together in contrast (then i'd be happy, but...), so personally, i'd go back to "but i've had enough."

hoping i didn't yap to much or that this wasn't boring.....i think things like this are a really interesting feature of the japanese language, and one of my favorite parts about it sjfkgh. unfortunately, it does mean a lot of things get lost in translation, or at least the full weight does.

thank you for asking tho omg i've been DYING to talk about this specific phrase

[bp-zb1fics]

hi! i love how you write bp trainee!reader fics and i was like ‘omg imagine jay x g group trainee!reader’ so i came here to request something. i wanted to request jay chang confessing to g group!reader during the boys planet finale, or something a long the lines of that. i wanted to see your take on how he would confess to someone, you can always switch up the plot or even ignore this ask if you don’t want to write it! <3

If this was a movie

pairing: jay x g group reader

genre: canon, fluff

tw/tags: lots of pining, confessions, a kiss or two, some swears, jay kinda dramatic and very in denial, kamden, matthew, ricky best wingmen, a lil hui vs jay action but not really 

wc: 1731

summary: it’s the sleepover night before the finale and jay has something to tell you.

a/n Hi! First of all thank you so much for this lovely request, it was an utter pleasure to write and I really enjoyed it and I hope you will too! I'm always a sucker for canon fics because it's so fun to take the show we all know and love and hate sometimes bc mnet kinda shady and write about it. I've lifted lines directly from the sleepover segment from episode 12, just be citing my sources. I definitely would have included reader/ mc/ y/n's pov but ended up keeping it to jay's pov for some reason, idk maybe it's like writer brain. If anyone wants a "your pov" version, do let me know~ that would be a fun part 2

Check my pinned for more fics~

Italics mean it’s spoken in English.

Jay tips his head back and exaggerates his cringe, laughing along with everyone at Gunwook stealing Junhyeon’s aegyo. Only he can’t help but let his eyes linger back to you giggling quietly from where you’re leaning against Hoetaek, the elder playing with your hair. 

And even if he knows that Hoetaek is a little more familiar with the former Cube trainees like you and Matthew and Sung Hanbin, he can’t help but feel the smallest twinge of jealousy. He wanted to be close to you like that, to mess with your hair until you pout at him and he can’t help but-

“By all means, keep staring, we might as well get a neon sign that says I LIKE YOU and put it on your head.”

Kamden mumbles from beside him, effectively snapping him out of his maladaptive daydreaming. 

“Oh my god dude, shut up.”

He hisses, still keeping one eye on you as you lean into Hoetaek’s touch. Think positive, Jay. Even if you're also a fellow English speaker, at least you’re far away enough that you probably won’t overhear them. Ricky snickers from his other side.

“You’re so subtle, man.”

He levels them a look. It’s their last night, can’t he get a break?

“It’s our last night Jay, you know, you should tell them.”

Apparently not. 

He looks up and Kamden manages to look even more unimpressed than he usually does, head tilting a little more than 45° for emphasis.

“Nah, it’s cool, besides, they’re definitely not into me.”

Jay deflects, ignoring the sinking feeling that begins to take hold. 

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m pretty sure I do.”

“Just try.”

“You’re being very persistent today, Kam, I dunno, it’s kinda sus.”

Before Kamden can fire back, the whole conversation about memorable first impressions turns around and bites Jay in the ass because the universe loves messing with him.

“So who was your best first impression, Jay-ah?” 

Suddenly everyone’s looking at him expectantly. Kamden and Ricky look like they already know and Jay knows that they know that the answer sitting at the tip of his tongue is just across the room, Hoetaek’s arm around their shoulder. Still, Jay hesitates.

He’s had a crush on you ever since the Star Level test. You had immediately caught his attention walking in. Sure, there were perfect visuals like Jiwoong and Hanbin but you were the most attractive person he’s ever seen. And you were talented, Jay could swear your performance was one of the best but Kamden’s convinced that he’s just biased.

But even though you’re both from G-group, you’ve always ended up in different teams, leaving Jay with not that many opportunities to talk with you. When he does end up around you, he just can’t, defaulting to his usual over the top expressions for laughs. While he’s always thought of himself as a confident person, he just finds himself fumbling around you. It doesn’t help that you seem to stick to Hoetaek or Sung Hanbin or one of your team members. You’re friendly with each other, sure, but nothing more than that. 

Right, back to the question.

“The person I remember the most is Yujin.”

He immediately feels the collective disappointment that emanates from his corner of the room as the rest of the trainees react, Matthew even sitting up to hit him with some bombastic side-eye. He pretends he doesn’t hear Kamden sighs, doing an impression of Yujin which looks more like a possession honestly. The others laugh. Jongwoo’s comment is the crutch he needs to limp away as he holds Yujin in check as competition.

Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

“For me, as soon as I heard Jay sing, I felt like I was in trouble.” 

Hoetaek speaks up and Jay forces himself into another exaggerated look of surprise and shoves down the ugly feeling that jumps out at the way you hug one of Hoetaek’s arms. 

“Your competitor?” One of them jokes.

Not just in singing, Jay thinks.

“But you did watch Love Me Right, hyung?” Jongwoo asks. Jay really wants this conversation to move on.

“It was so hard to watch Love Me Right.” He watches as Hoetaek shifts so that you can lean more comfortably.

“That’s not the only thing that’s hard to watch right now.” Ricky breathes out. Now Kamden and Matthew are snickering.

Just smile, Jay. 

“Honestly, I wanted to give up when I saw you, hyung.” He manages to grit out without giving himself away, hopefully. 

Everyone laughs and Jay desperately sends a prayer to the universe to let his pain end. Ironically, it’s Kamden and Matthew who come to his rescue.

“Actually, I’m curious about something. Did I give off an American vibe?”

The conversation swerves towards Matthew’s imitation of Kamden, the apparently routine mispronunciation of Jiwoong’s name and Kamden’s impressive first impression of Ricky’s hair.

By the time they move on to Keita’s first meeting with Zhang Hao, Jay thinks he’s in the clear.

He's not.

Kamden proceeds to smack his arm and he meets eyes with Matthew whose usual bright smile was beginning to border on shit-eating grin territory.

“If you didn’t notice, they’ve been looking at you the whole time we were talking.” Kamden says lowly, Matthew nodding in agreement.

“Nah, you’re capping.”

“No, for real, Kam and I were literally right here giving some top-tier content and all they could see was you.” Matthew insisted.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It definitely means something.” Ricky counters because he was apparently listening in on them the whole time while everyone else watched Jiwoong wax poetry over Hao’s violin playing. Jay shakes his head.

“It really doesn’t.”

Kamden looks like he wants to jump on him and start shaking some sense in. Matthew sighs. Ricky just shrugs and lies back down.

“Ah well, we’ll have to see then. I didn’t let Kam slander my hair and my catchphrase for nothing.”

After having to spectate the absolute trainwreck of awkwardness that is Zhang Hao and Kum Junhyeon, there’s the slightest chill that goes down Jay’s spine that he ignores, figuring it must be the weather.

It was definitely not the weather. He should have run while he still had a chance.

“Actually, there’s another pair I want to see.” Matthew speaks up. Suddenly he feels Kamden and Ricky both watching him like hawks as if he’s going to bolt any second now.

After Matthew names you and him, Jay actually wants to bolt. Kamden and Ricky are extremely helpful in explaining to the others the minimal interactions you two have had as the “least close trainees in G-group.” You look like a deer in headlights as Hoetaek gently shoves you towards the middle of the room, whispering something to you before he goes back to his spot. 

“Wah they’re both so red.” Jay becomes acutely aware of how much his cheeks are burning as he sits across you. You don’t seem to be any better, making eye contact before looking literally anywhere else.

Well, might as well get over it so he can go back and die of embarrassment.

“Uh, the first time I saw you was during the Star Level test. I thought you were very talented.”

Damn, when did Korean become so hard? Maybe it was the way your hands were holding his, can you feel how fast his pulse is racing? Okay Jay, you can do this, just speedrun it.

“And I really liked the song you performed, it really fit your voice. Your stage outfit was also very pr- very noticeable, it made you stand out. And I really wanted to get to know you more but we were in different groups all the time which really sucked and you don’t know how many times I wished you chose Home so we could perform together or the Star Creators would put us both in Over me and I understand, you’re really perfect for the concepts of your songs and it’s crazy how much I like you, seriously so crazy.”

Pin-drop silence. Three things, in order, that Jay realises.

Speedrunning this might not have been the best idea.

Switching to English midway through the conversation is a skill that he didn’t know he was capable of considering his level of Korean would definitely be more byelingual than actual, intelligent multilingual like Matthew.

He might have confessed his feelings to you. No actually, he did. Fuck, now would be a great time to get on the next plane and fly off to the States and cry to Beomhan for a month. Forget debuting, he’d settle for a nice normal life without the evil editing and the screen time robbing and the utter stress of eliminations.

But before Jay can actually bolt, you speak up.

“Uh- uhm…” You look so unsure that it freezes him there, seated in front of you, holding your hands like it’s his last lifeline.

“I really like you too.”

Everyone gasps and begins murmuring quietly.

“Wait, my English is bad, what are they saying?”

“Finally, they’ve confessed, I knew it.”

“Wait who confessed?”

“That was like an American romance movie, wow.”

Then the clapping starts. Jay tears his eyes away from you for one second to look at Kamden in utter disbelief. His co-conspirators don’t miss a beat.

“Congratulations, you finally did it! Thank fuck.”

“Be happy together, you two!”

And because Ricky apparently wasn’t satisfied with the slander he had put himself through.

“Now kiss.”

Which turned into a chant because even the trainees who didn’t speak English fluently knew what they were talking about. Someone even helpfully throws a blanket over Yujin to protect his eyes.

Jay turns back and finds you giggling. While it looks like embarrassment, now he could feel the way your fingers interlocked with his, your eyes flitting to his lips. The chanting becomes background noise as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours firmly.

Fireworks explode in the background as you pull away.

Everyone applauds with the occasional whistling, oohing as Jay tugs you to sit between his legs, Ricky graciously scooting over to make space.

Kamden claps him on the back and Matthew flashes both of you a thumbs up.

God, he loves hates these guys.

As the conversation settles back down and everyone decides to actually sleep, you sneak another kiss before cuddling up to his side.

Jay smiles. Maybe this is a movie.

[kaybl]

Wally himself (Sailor Wally)

The hat is behind his pompadour, and yeah, he is somewhat the captain, but in the end Home is the one controlling the boat, since home IS the boat, but they get along, so Home practically does everything Wally asks him to.

What else can I say about him? Maybe that he is focused on the care of sea animals and species, the main objective of the show itself is to spread awareness of the sea life and all types of things that can be found in oceans in a more kid friendly way (I'm not a professional at writting so this might have no consistency sometimes, if it does, pls let me know 😭😭, plus my way of writting sucks aaaozksknwns)

Sailor Wally likes blueberries

Sailor Wally sometimes groups the entire tripulation to have the dinner, it's now a daily routine for them all to gather together and have a lovely dinner 👍

Sailor Wally is basically the leader, but since he isn't... the most ideal one for the role, he mostly leaves Frank in charge, this is kind of a joke in the show, where Frank arguments about why he think that decision is correct, and Wally agrees with him, making everyone think Wally was the one who tought abt the idea first (idk if I explained it correctly I suck at English 🤓🤓)

Sailor likes talking with Home when he is alone, which is most of the time

Sailor doesn't have the :3 face, this is for artistic purposes n bc I don't like drawing the :3 face, if you want you can still draw him with the :3 face tho

I'm still writting abt the au so this may have at least some stuff that doesn't fit, so sorry if it does

SAILOR SPEAKS RUSHIAN AND GERMAN LMAO, for every Russian and german speaker, I will not understand anything u guys make him say, so pls do it, I won't even have the chance to translate it with Google translate, so go on, no one will judge you guys 🗿🗿🗿🗿 (this is incredibly random but yeah, that's right)

[ravangie]

To your post about languages: YES! Very much so. I think it has to do with the fact that English feels less personal, because I didn't grow up speaking it. I realized I had an easier time expressing my feelings in English too, because it almost felt like there still was a wall between me and my feelings and it felt safer. In Russian, it feels like I literally rip my chest apart and fall naked to other people's perception. And it's definitely why you were first comfortable with the English "lesbian", but not Russian "лесбиянка". The English word doesn't have the same connotations to you because you didn't grow up with it and didn't live in the language as a kid, and so you take it only at its most basic denotative meaning: a homosexual woman. Whereas native speaker of both languages always feel the sexualized and negative connotations with which other people use the words.

(I studied linguistics so it's all really interesting to me)

This is also why I'm writing my story not in Russian, but in English (and also bc it would reach more people like that). When I tried writing a little snipped in Russian, it felt so... Cringe? Like too open, again. Too close to home.

Ok ok, GREAT to hear that it's a common thing! Definitely agree with you on the feelings thing. The wall analogy? Argh, YES!! Even though my vocabulary is much poorer in english, expressing my feelings is still easier, because it almost feels artificial that way. Like I'm speaking through someone else? Because it's not my native tongue.

Also agree with you on the connotations of words take. The first few times I was met with the word for "lesbian" in russian were either insults or pornografic terms. For the longest time I couldn't even SAY the damn word because of it. It felt like a dirty word. And of course I couldn't even fathom calling myself a лесбиянка :(

Again, because a second language feels like it doesn't come from me directly, all the words in it also feel like their literal meaning and nothing else. No personal expiriences added onto them. You are absolutely right.

I almost went into studying linguistics, so it's all very interesting to me as well, thank you for the food for though!!!

And to that one person who wanted a fic from me: maybe I should try writing it in english. I might turn out good at it hahah

[obsidianpen]

speaking of ai and the way that it's sort of, distinguishable from the human work... anon that works in digital advertising (if i remember correctly) pointed out that ai has a specific writing pattern and splits the “posh/overly peculiar” adjectives and words that sound unnatural. this isn't related to greyana (?) in any way, (and i'm sorry if this sounds a little out of context but i'm the anon on whose ask you responded with voldemort's character chart <33 MADE MY NEXT FEW WEEKS LITERALLY) but i just wanted to ask— since i've been reading fanfictions ever since i've gotten a phone, basically, and i've seen numerous amount of them in past couple of years that i've been reading them, but your specific style of writing is so.. i loathe that i don't know how to describe it, but it's so refreshing, somehow. because you have flawless words for everything, your sentences never seemed nonsensical or just thrown-in, and from reading your work alone i can tell that you're literate ASL. like— quality's immaculate, but at the same time i understand everything because the themes and the emotions are so brilliantly depicted, and don't even get me started on the characterisation, like i said.

and i'm so sorry if this all sounds so so confusing but 😭 what i wanted to ask is do you maybe have any advices on how you started out, how you manage to do it so well, is it all just pure practice?

since part of the reason why i mentioned AI writing at the start is because i feel like what i write can be considered as something an AI would write, because my first language isn't english so whenever i write, it often happens that i search “[word] synonym” and then i use a synonym of a word because i don't want my sentences to sound too— idk simple? like i feel like without doing that, the fanfic would sound like it's written by a 13 year old since my vocabulary's not really all that yet, but simultaneously sometimes the synonyms i use instead aren't really appropriate to be used in the context of the word that goes afterwards, sentence as a whole, etc.

all this confusing mess aside–

i really hope ur doing okay and taking care of yourself bc you're taking care of us lots these days in a way <3 (since i've seen lots of people who basically live off of reading the asks you respond to so frequently despite having loads of responsibilities in real life as well WHILE writing for us at the same time + under sm sm pressure. like. you're awesome literally idk how you do itt 😭i've never, not once seen you respond to anybody rudely no matter the question and no matter how insistent people are that you update to the point where it's overwhelming. ur literally my comfort author <//3 )

🥹 I love everything about this submission, thank you anon (though I am certain I have been rude to some people, mostly in jest, but these things happen when prodded) 🖤 and thank you for the comments about my writing, I do try really hard 😭

but in your case, since English isn’t your first language, I would say you should find a beta reader who is a native English speaker to be your proof reader, sounding board, etc! A real person to talk things through with. Much more helpful than anything AI can do, because they can help brainstorm about the plot too!!

[butterflies-and-roaches]

Stuff about stuff

(Please read if you want to interact!!)

Edited 08.04.24

Who are you?

Call me butterfly 🦋 (or jules), legal adult, gender has no meaning to me and i prefer any pronouns except she/her, probably 'tistic (but my rizz is on the negative hehe), aroace (but for the sake of rp let's consider i'm pan on this blog lol + will not hesitate to simp over fictional characters of any gender)

Main: @timeladix (from which follows ensue)

My art: @julesdraws (rn full hellaverse but keep in mind it's still multifandom)

Wtf is this?

Started off as a butterfly🦋 anon on @/nunalastor 's blog and soon got married to @/lu-lus-duckies so i felt like i should show some face in whatever this has become :>>

Also married to @/lucifersruberduck

And i'm the one that came up with the #nunwhiskers ship name :3 (kinda accidentally lol)

Anything else?

This will sometimes be a role play sideblog (bulshiting around - meaning half the stuff i say or do is exagerated or purely joking bc it's fun) and other times i'll be serious if there is need for me to be

(Just keep in mind i'm autistic and my tone recognision skills are lacking immensly)

Asks always* open, as long as you're not mean i'll probably respond (tho maybe not always right away), feel free to talk ab anything and everything i love engagement :33

*Alright babes, ask box related, these are my HARD NOs (if you won't respect this you'll get blocked and the ask will be deleted sorry): gore, explicit imigery, hate talk (this includes transphobic/homophobic/albeistic/racist etc etc talk), polotics related, horror related, SH and su/i/cide (if it's not said as a joke or it's excessive), ra/pe, violence, abuse, and maybe other stuff that is v extreme or hard to process and doesn't come to mind rn.

(Don't take it personally please, this is me protecting my mental health🦋)

Queer and neurodivergent friendly 🫶

Not a native english speaker!!

Oh and I can actually make pancakes :>>>

(and yes i loooove butterflies)

Wanna add smth you forgot?

Oh yeah i'll update this post as this blog evolves (idk what to expect from this tbh but i'm here for the funsies)

TaGs:

#lore stuff (anything hazbin lore related or unhinged head canons that i find interesting)

#silly wifey stuff (anytime i interact with lulu cuz she's special bc she's my first wife from the polycule)

#silly hubby stuff (anytime i interact with lucifersruberduck aka theo, my first husband :0)

#cursed polycule (everything related to the rest of the polycule - lulu has a chart in their pinned)

#cursed cursed worms (anything worm related)

#butterfly talks (anytime i talk in reblogs or post stuff on its own)

[spicyraeman]

I usually don't send two asks in a row because I don't want to overwhelm you. But you just posted about phonology and I was curious and then bam hyperfocus. I found a pretty cool table of gith sounds :

https://conworkshop.com/view_language.php?l=GITH

It looks like there are a few main differences to english:

No W

-Like in french from France. She probably would say "Oo-il" for Wyll. They usually replace the W by a Oo or a V, depending on the sound after it. A "wagon" -> a vagon, but "when" -> ooän. In German you would have the W as a V, because it's already pronounced like that.

There is a type of Th, like in "thin", but not "this".

- I kinda hear the difference but I can't do it. The first one is closer to an s or an f and the second one to a z , I guess? A native english speaker may understand the nuance better.

There is a Zh

- It's the same as the French "j", like in the name Jacques (which could be your frenchsona btw. It's the equivalent of James). In English you add some kind of "d" in your "j". As an example, we visualise Djordan for Jordan. You take that D off, you got the sound. (Insert respectful trans joke here)

The Tl like in Nahuatl

- I can explain this one in english because I can't find the right translation, but you can find how it's pronounced on Wikipedia.

Gh is not silent

- Kind of a guttural G, like in dutch or the scottish gh.

The glottal stop '

- It marks a pause between syllables, while still linking them. Uh'Oh in English, "bu'er" for butter in cockney. It depends of the dialects/accent/language.

Everything is my understanding of this, obv, linguists please don't hate me. I'm just an audhd girly with a multi-lingual environnement and too much time.

Sooooooo Frog'zel is not completely off the table, but I'm sad the R's not an uvular one. It would make it a more "brutal" language. I think she would have some difficulties we see in frenglish. Especially when a letter has several ways to be pronounced, like cat / face or breath/breathe because it's straightforward in gith.

Ergo, she wouldn't have a stroke trying to say "library" like I do. But she would struggle with "throughout", I guess.

I couldn't find anything on tones and accentuations stuff though. I still want her to fight for her life like I do. I shouldn't be the only one suffering here.

I guess it can still change with context and stuff. Like the s in german becomes a sh when it's in front of a t.

I hope I was clear enough. Sorry for any spelling or formatting mistakes, cat fell asleep on my arms in the middle of this. But she's cute so forgive her please.

🫀🚑

You are always allowed to overwhelm me with worldbuilding shit like conlangs (even if this isn’t really a conlang) I live and breathe this stuff and I'm constantly rotating it around in the back of my brain

I cannot express the sheer joy I felt looking at these charts and comparing them to my own and seeing that I've got pretty much the same result! The only strange thing I found was the addition of a b sound, maybe I missed it but I haven’t found a single word that uses that sound (despite Lae’zel’s “bah’s”) Their chart is also missing a p sound but I believe that's due to when the charts were made bc there's only one Gith word that uses it and it was in bg3. Honestly tho, it makes a lot more sense for Gith to have a b sound and no p sound instead of the other way around, there are wayyyy more examples of languages with no p instead of no b (although a language with neither would be fun lol)

The lack of a W was the first thing that I noticed! But there's a fuck ton of languages without it so it makes sense, It doesn’t really fit the feel of the Gith language either. Also, I know in my heart that you’re probably very much right on the Wyll pronunciation but I was joking around with my friends while I was looking through all this stuff and one of them made a German comparison and the thought of the fascist space frogs having a german accent was just too funny to me to pass up

I personally find the Gith language having θ but not ð very fun for their accent! It's kind of a subtle difference but also not? I went through and pronounced a bunch of words with a ð sound with a θ instead and they sound harsher? I guess? It really did give them a more Gith feel honestly

(a little aside but the thought of a “frenchsona” is so fucking funny to me and you’re respectful trans joke got a legit laugh outta me lmao)

Fun fact! English does have a ʒ (zh) sound it's just not associated with a specific letter, it just kinda.. happens in words. All in all, it seems that Gith is relatively comparable in terms of sounds with English. The lack of a w and p/b (debatable) seems like they’d be the biggest ones to come up in everyday speech as far as phonetics goes

Also can I let you in on a little pet peeve of mine? I usually hate when “fantasy languages” use ‘ in their words bc most of the time it's just a cheap way to make it look more fantasy-esc or alien. BUT in Gith, it honestly works? Mostly because it actually is a glottal stop and not just a random “make this word look fantasy” addition

I'm also nowhere near a linguist, just insane about worldbuilding stuff (i have notebooks full of phonetic charts and mathematics on creating solar systems) It's really insightful and interesting to see the perspective of someone with a multi-lingual background tho as someone who only speaks English

I've always seen the Gith language as less brutal and more.. Sharp? I dunno how to describe it really, kinda harsh and pointed rather than guttural or brutal if that makes sense. But yeah if common is English then all the long and short sounds and strange exceptions would be supremely rough especially if you only ever really read it and never truly spoke it

I couldn’t even blame Lae’zel for not being able to pronounce throughout correctly cuz I can’t say that shit right either unless I'm really trying

If you want tones and accentuations you’re just gonna have to have fun and make em up, cuz sadly most fantasy “languages” are just a bunch of made up words with no real rhyme or reason. If I had the brain power to spare it’d be fun to flesh out a real Gith conlang

At least with a full phonetic chart, you can see what sounds the Gith wouldn’t be used to using and find out what words would cause trouble

Also I can forgive any and all misspelling or weird formatting, cute cats aside, cuz I have no clue how anyone could read this jumbled rambling mess lol gratz if you got this far and understood any of this