There was a childlike innocence about you when Alex first
led the two of you inside – it took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim
lights and your feet stopped just shy of the threshold. Eyes wide and lips
parted just so, you took in the scene in front of you. Girls with big skirts
twirled around on the dance floor, partners close in tow. The bass plucked out
a steady beat you could feel thumping in your chest. Shouts and laughter were
cascading throughout the room and there was a rather indescribable energy about
Alex thumbed over your hand he’d so carefully held in his
the entire walk here.
“Shall we?” he asked with a grin.
You eagerly nodded your head, causing Alex to chuckle beside you. The band strung out the last few notes of a song, and he led you to the edge of the dance floor, waiting for those exiting to walk off and take their spot. The dance floor was easily a few degrees warmer than the rest of the building, but with all of the energy and laughter, how could it not?
A man with a pinstripe suit walked over to the microphone on the band’s platform.
“Is everyone enjoying themselves?” he called out.
A roar of cheers and yells from the crowd of dancers answered him, and he signaled to the band to start again. The bass started up again, and with the wail of a trumpet, the people around you began to move.
“I might be a little rusty,” you spoke over the music, “It’s been quite a –,”
“I’ve got yeh, love,” Alex winked at you, “Gentlemen are supposed t’lead, remember?”
Before you could rattle off another response, he grabbed your hand and spun you, starting the momentum that would carry the pair of you through the dance. While it had been at least a year or so since you’d danced with a partner to this caliber, it very quickly came back to you.
Alex knew his steps as well, making it much easier to get into a rhythm. His hand held yours tightly as he twirled you, dipped you back, and sometimes when the music swelled just right, picked you up and spun you in the air. Laughs cried out from your mouth with no sign of stopping any time soon. The very nature of swing dancing is energetic and quick, allowing for little communication. Alex would whisper the names of the steps coming up next in your ear as you passed by, trusting he’d be there to catch you when you prepared to turn a new way.
You liked the way he felt strong around your waist, making sure you knew he was there to guide you. He was your anchor, and you were there to be shown off.
The two of you danced through many songs and were left breathless by the amount of energy you’d put out. As the night went on, the pairs dwindled down to only a few, including Alex and yourself.
It must have been nearing ten o’clock, as Alex kept glancing down at his wristwatch.
“One more dance, yeah?” he moved to your side and spoke into your ear over the chatter in the room, “Can’t have yeh home late, your pops would hang me!”
You turned to him, a fake pout on your lips, “I guess so,” you said reluctantly, being a bit dramatic in your tone. But, truth be told, you didn’t want to mind the curfew set in place. You didn’t want to leave Alex. This was the most free you’d felt in ages.
“Aw petal, don’t gimme tha’ look,” he bantered back, “Where’d my firecracker go?”
The band abruptly counted off another song, and you took your place – hands together with Alex, facing him and waiting for the right beat to start. He gave you a cheeky grin before sending you backward in a turn and quickly catching you back in his arms. Your laughs sounded like bells as the two of you twirled around each other and you knew you’d be sore in the morning, as your legs already felt wobbly.
The last note rang out and cheers erupted from the crowd and Alex looked down at his wrist once again. The fact that he was continuously checking warmed your heart just a bit – his cocky and boastful attitude was really just something of a cover. He really cared that he made a good impression on your father.
“C’mon, m’lady,” he took your hand in his and led you (begrudgingly) toward the door. The night air felt refreshing on your cheeks after being so warm.
Alex walked by your side, hand keeping a firm grip on yours. The two of you walked in silence on your way back – it wasn’t uncomfortable though. It felt right.
“I had a really lovely time tonight, Alex,” you broke the silence. His name still made your cheeks blush, and you were very glad it was too dark to notice. He was glad you couldn’t hear the way his heart was all but beating out of his chest.
“I did, too, y/n,” he took a quick glance over at you, biting back a grin as he said your name.
It was like the two of you were school children, not twenty-year-olds, with the way you were acting. Bashful, shy, and sweet.
“I’d love to go again, if you’d like to?” your tongue stumbled over the question, “Say, what time is it anyway?”
“F’course I’d love t’go again,” he laughed, “S’only just after half past nine o’clock.” His voice grew softer, sheepish almost.
“Only half past?” you stopped walking, “Alex! We could still be dancing! We still have –,”
Alex turned to face you and you looked up to meet his eyes, pout on your face authentic this time. “Jus’ wanted to spend more time talkin’ with yeh, promise,” he said warmly, “Love dancin’ jus’ as much as the next, but yeh can’t learn about a person jus’ by the way they dance.”
“You sneaky crow,” you poked at him, “What do you want to know then, hm?”
Alex chuckled at your seemingly threatening manner, leading you towards a bench near your father’s storefront before continuing. You nervously throw a look over your shoulder to the windows of the shop, relieved when you see that the lights are off, and your family is tucked up in their flat.
“Still have a few minutes, don’t worry,” Alex said reassuringly, “M’keepin’ an eye on the time.”
He was still holding your hand as the two of you sat there, giving it a squeeze every so often to remind you that he was there.
“So, Mr. Alex Mason,” you announced, “What do you want to know?”
“Nothin’ specific, yeh could talk about the moon or a lad yeh saw walkin’ down the street the other day, and I’d be enamored.”
You laughed, “You sure you want to hear about the lads I’ve eyed walking down the road?”
“Need t’know who my competition is, don’t I?”
“Well in that case,” you let the words hang in the air, jokingly.
Alex’s face fell just slightly, “S’there…”
“Oh,” you shook your head, “No, no there’s no one! Heavens, no.”
“Jus’ checkin’, y/n,” he said with a wink, something you’d learned to be one of his everyday mannerisms, along with the way he’d rather precisely rub his nose twice mid-sentence…
You caught yourself subconsciously staring at Alex. There was a pull between the two of you, its grip tight upon your shoulders. His lips fell silent as he studied over your face, features still prominent even in the dim light of the streetlamp a few feet away. He leaned in a bit closer and you couldn’t help but do the same. A shudder of butterflies ran through your stomach as the space between you became less and less obvious and Alex began to duck his head towards yours.
“Ah, there we are!” a voice you knew all too well called over towards the bench you were on.
Alex immediately backed away, an almost obnoxious amount of space now sat among you,
“F’course,” he whispered, shaking his head. Alex then offered his hand to you, and helped you to stand.
Walking hand in hand, you approached your father, standing expectantly in front of the store. The front light had been turned on, and he stood there with a warm smile on his face. You should have anticipated this happening – he loved hearing about your adventures more than anything, and as the eldest girl, he was a bit protective over you.
“Have a good night?” he asked excitedly, not minding the fact that he’d basically interrupted the date you’d been on.
“Very, you’ve got a lovely daughter, Mr. Hughes,” Alex boasted. You noticed he stood up a little straighter any time he was conversing with your father, and his voice spoke just a smidgen stronger.
“That I do,” your father turned to look at you, “I’ll be upstairs, make sure you lock up once you’ve bid your farewells?”
“Of course, goodnight Father,” you said with a grin, stepping over to give him a quick hug.
“Thank you for taking care of her, lad,” your father nodded toward Alex, reaching out to shake his hand, “Hope t’see you around the store sometime soon.”
That phrase was music to your ears, and you tried your best to hide the look of surprise on your face. You father said his last goodbyes of the night, and walked back inside the store.
Alex took your hands in his again, “Looks like this won’t be the last time yeh see me, hmm love?”
“Rats,” you said with a laugh, “Was hoping my dancing would be enough to drive you off!”
“Stop bein’ ridiculous,” he pursed his lips, furrowing a brow at you, “Would take a lot more than tha’ t’get me t’leave yeh.”
“Good,” you poked him square on the nose, “Like havin’ you around.”
“I quite like havin’ yeh ‘round, too, sweets.”
A quick silence fell over the two of you, and you tossed a look over your shoulder, back to the store where your family was probably waiting anxiously for you to get back to.
“I should go,” you spoke quietly, hands still intertwined with his, “I really did have a lovely time.”
You looked up to meet his vibrantly green eyes, seemingly glowing in the night light.
“I did too,” he unhooked your hands to place one of his on your cheek, caressing it softly. They felt different than when they were pressed into your back or holding you tightly dancing earlier that night – they were more gentle, tender, safe – “I’d very much like t’kiss yeh, but tha’s a bit rushed for the first date, yeh?”
“A gentleman, I see,” you teased him, sincerity glinting in your eyes, “Guess you’ll have to stick around a bit longer for that, hm?”
“Guess I will,” he couldn’t help but grin. You were such a catch.
“Goodnight, Mr. Mason.”
“And goodnight to you too, Miss Hughes.”
You took a small step back, hands falling to your sides. The grin that had been painted on your face for most of the night was still burning into your cheeks. You were confident it would be embedded in your features for days to come. It made your jaw sore, but the joy and happiness you felt was too much to contain.
Alex watched after you, that smirk hanging on his lips. The two of you didn’t exchange any words after that – he simply made sure you made it inside the shop and waiting for the light to turn off before he began his trek home.
Once inside the store, you took a moment to properly reflect on the night. There had been so many moments you wanted to be sure to remember forever – the song you first danced to, how it felt to hand his hand on the walk back home, the way he looked at you before you’d been interrupted by your father… You squeezed your eyes shut and willed yourself to commit them to memory. A yawn fell past your lips, and you decided it was a wise choice to retreat back to your room.
Slipping up the stairs as quietly as you could in your heels, you’d hoped to make little conversation with whomever would possibly still be awake this late. Lucky for you, your father had truly gone to bed when he’d left the two of you outside, and you were free to get dressed for bed on your own terms.
Once you’d battled through your now-knotted hair, taken the lipstick from your lips, and changed into your pyjamas, you let yourself fall back into your bed. Smile still perched happily on your face and memories reflecting through your mind, you drifted off peacefully to sleep, dreaming of the next time you’d see him.
It had been, quite possibly, the best night of your life.
It’s been exactly one year since the show premiered. Ever since then Cartoon fans rejoiced, and it got me back into Cartoons.
I didn’t really know much about it until I heard they were going to feature a gay couple, so I began watching it and my interest was gagued.
I’ve expressed my love for the series countless times, but this cartoon had me surprised. I wouldn’t have expected too much considering how Modern Nickelodeon has been doing. Thankfully this show has gagued my interest enough that I bought a T-Shirt for it!!
I just want to thank @theloudhouse, @jordangkoch, and everyone else who helped make this series possible. I also wanna thank @safe-loud-house and everybody else in the Safe Fandom for helping myself and many others be able to watch this series without all the sickos.
I understand that right now, the Fandom is basically trash, and the amount of sickos/trashies bullying fans and creating cartoon child porn is disturbing. However, I want my fellow Safe Loud House fans to know that I stand with you, and I will continue to advocate for what is right!!
With all that being said, here’s my favorite song in the series. I love that this series has it’s own ending theme!! ^_^
Request: @kpopmusicanimebooklover: “I was wondering if you do an imagine of viktor krum from HP. Instead of krum liking Hermione he likes the reader and he tries to hang out with her. And she comes to see him during the first task. And during his stay at Hogwarts, the reader falls for him.”
You mispronounce something because Korean isn’t your first language but he finds it cute(BLOCK B)
Zico: -since you weren’t from Korea a lot of your speech fails were common, he’d let you finish your thoughts before he would correct you on the statement all because he found it cute when you would start to blush and apologize- “it’s fine sweetie you’re learning just be careful with wording”
Jaehyo: -he thought it was cute but he hated it when people wouldn’t correct you and would laugh when your sentence wasn’t what it was intended to be. So he’d make them leave so he could talk to you about it- “hun you need to know your sentence was not what you were going for, I hope. I can’t tell if people were being nice or trying to be funny but I wanted to teach you how to say it right”
P.O: -he tease you by laughing as soon as you finished the sentence before you’d hit him and ask him what you said wrong. He’d just cup your face and kiss you all over- “we’ll talk about it later I just want to kiss your cute foreign lips”
B-Bomb: -you spoke decent Korean but decent wasn’t 100% and it was just wrong how your innocent sentences would turn dirty because you’d say something wrong or place the word in the wrong sentence- “no no Y/N please don’t say that. That is way too wrong for what I think you were going for”
Taeil: -he was evil about it, he wouldn’t correct you until after you got looks. He would pull you close whispering in your ear what you said before you’d pushed him away with a blush on your face. He found that cute- “aw baby don’t need to get all blushy with me”
U-Kwon:-you hadn’t spoken Korean since you were a child so you were very very rusty and when you spoke it wasn’t clear what word you were going for and he had no idea how to ask- “um as cute as you sound where in the world were you going with that sentence”
Kyung: -you were so cute when you spoke because you sometimes had to take your time if you didn’t know exactly what you were saying. You stopped in the middle of the word you were at to think it through in your head. And that’s when you felt a kiss of your lips- “you’re too cute I swear, keep up the good work”
Choosing to take a swim instead of the usual jog, Frey felt reunited with not just a long-time hobby, but with a good friend too: Marla Tide. They had a few classes together, sure. But there’s something different about being in familiar waters. Before fully committing to the swim team, they were both swimming partners and competed together. Come senior year, Frey chose cheer and while she’s happy with he decision, she admits missing the feel of the water from time to time.
She was just finishing a lap right now but after checking the time it took for her to go from end to end of the pool, she realized she took much longer than usual. Her lack of practice was starting to show and she sighed in response to this.
“I’m off by a few seconds… I think I’ve gone rusty, Marla.” Frey spoke as she signed, glad her classes for Sign Language proved to be useful. She’s not too good at picking up new languages, but after a few years with sign, she can at least hold a conversation.
She pushed herself out of the water and rested on the side to squeeze the hair out of her soaked twin tails. It was fun to swim again but she’s slowed down since the last time. “Got any pointers for me~?” She winked at her friend, hands moving along to sign what she was saying.
Can you do a kbtbb/sits headcanon where mc can speak multiple languages fluently and the guys' reaction? Thanks!
I certainly can my love! :) (I apologize in advance for my translations of certain languages, if they suck I’m sorry!!!)
You were on the phone with an old friend of yours from college, a foreign exchange student, and although you were a tad bit rusty, you spoke in their native language. Baba came in as you were on the phone. He immediately gave you an intrigued look, hearing you speak, and sat down next to you. Waiting until you finished with your call.
“I didn’t know you spoke French princess.”
You smiled. “Oui monsieur. I also speak two other languages fluently.”
He came over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “That’s pretty sexy I have to admit.
You’ll have to tell me things in French while we’re in bed tonight.” He nibbled on your shoulder.
You had accompanied him to a gallery showing when the both of you were approached by some German fans of Ota’s. Ota was about to apologize to them, not knowing how to speak with the properly, but you stepped in. You eloquently and effortlessly spoke to his fans, surprising him, translating between you.
Once his fans left, he turned to look at you. “You speak German Koro?”
You giggled and nodded. “Ich kann fließend Deutsch sprechen.”
“Any other languages you speak that I should know about?”
“Just three more.” You replied, giving him a cocky wink.
Ota chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and throwing you a seductive smile. “That’s kind of a turn on you know.”
You had insisted you accompany Soryu on a business deal that he had with some mobsters. He had initially resisted, but you had been very persuasive, saying that you knew Soryu would need your help. And you had been right, but not for the reason he had thought.
Upon arriving he had realized that the Russian mobsters the deal was with couldn’t speak anything but Russian. He hadn’t a clue as to how to communicate with them until you stepped forward, extending a hand to the Russian man and greeting him in Russian.
Soryu had been immensely impressed, but contained his surprise until after the deal had been done and you had finished translating for him, and the two of you were left alone. He didn’t say anything, but simply just turned to look at you, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at you.
“Any other surprises?”
“YA svobodno vladeyu.” You replied with a wink.
Soryu smiled, letting out a low chuckle. “Maybe you’re more of a mobster than I am.”
You had been in the lobby directing a foreign guest when Eisuke approached you from behind. His eyebrow was raised high, having heard your entire conversation.
“You were speaking Chinese just now, weren’t you?”
You nodded. “Yeah I was. I’m fluent in several languages actually, Chinese being one of them.”
Eisuke smirked and crossed his arms across his chest. “Just how many languages do you speak?”
“Wǒ jiǎng liù zhǒng yǔyán.” You replied.
“6?” He asked, unable to contain the surprise in his voice. When you nodded he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his lap.
“You beat me by 3.” He whispered in your ear.
The two of you had gone on vacation to Greece, and Mamoru had initially been worried that the two of you wouldn’t be able to communicate with anyone else there. But you’d immensely surprised him when you effortlessly ordered the meal for the two of you at a restaurant in flawless Greek.
“You speak Greek?”
You nodded. “Yes.”
He chuckled. “Just how many languages do you speak?”
“Miláo̱ pollés gló̱sses.” You said, crossing your legs.
Mamoru chuckled again, lighting up a cigarette. “You continue to surprise me kid.”
Yasmin Z, better known as rustyvoices on tumblr, truly embodies the spirit of what it means to be a young, aspiring poet. Despite her uncanny ability to paint worlds with words, her humility and gratefulness is a reminder that great writers and poets do well to remember their roots.
We sat down with Yaz to discuss not only her inspirations as a writer, but also the wonderful teenage girl behind the blog.
You’ve mentioned on your blog the importance of your religious and cultural heritage in your life. How has being a Muslim impacted your writing and your motivation to write? My religion and my heritage is definitely a driving force in my writing. As a second generation immigrant, there’s this incurable homesickness that comes with a sense of not really belonging. Of always, always reaching for someplace else. My mother’s side is syrian, and my father’s side is palestinian (migrated to egypt), so there is this reality I’ve had to come to terms with that there are parts of who I am that I’ll never be able to touch. There are people who have the same eyes as me and the same smile as and the same hands as me, but I’ll never know them the way I want to. They wake up to the sound of an entire country bleeding, and I can hear it. All the way from here, I can hear it, and I can’t do anything except be loud like this. In my writing. It’s the only way I know.
As for my religion, Islam has been what’s gotten me out of bed most days. I find solace in the verses that I wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else. It’s changed my life for the better. It’s made me more aware of the world around me. On the days I know it would be easier to harden, Islam kept me soft. It kept me here. It kept me present.
Out of curiosity, how did you come up with the URL “rustyvoices?” I came up with my url on a whim. After years of silence and half truths, I finally found a place where I could be honest and not edit myself for anyone. So I took my “rusty voice” and I spoke up.
Your writing often times references Latin and Greek mythology. How has mythology inspired you to write, and what are some of your favorite myths? Greek mythology constantly inspires me. The stories, the characters, the humanity, the tragedy. It’s a mirror that reflects the world in a way that makes me want to catch the light. My favorite myth is most likely the story of Narcissus and Echo. It’s the kind of heartbreak they write books about. I also have a soft spot for Medusa.