foreign partners

Descendant/7th house

Aries in the 7th - attracts/is attracted to partners that bring out the life in them. assertive partners, competitive partners. may have pushy and aggressive partners. relationships can consist of arguments and confrontations. a partner that is strong-willed, childlike, spontaneous, self-sufficient, protective, and highly sexual. an independent partner.

Taurus in the 7th - attracts/is attracted to partners that are stable, reliable, loyal and secure. a partner that will stick with you through everything. someone more down to earth, practical and perhaps good with money. someone that cares more about material things so it can compliment you well. a sensual, realistic, grounded partner that can bring more sensuality to the relationship. someone possessive.

Gemini in the 7th - attracts/is attracted to partners that stimulate your mind. someone that likes fresh starts, and can give you a strong mental connection. you fall in love with your mind. someone not very possessive and will not restrict your freedom or limit you at all. someone that can show you new things and can hold a solid conversation with you. a partner with similar interests, and can show you new interests as well. someone that brings variety into the relationship.

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I’m @michaela-armstrong-paul‘s Secret Santa! ♥ Happy Kristanna Christmas in July! This is my gift for you I hope you’ll enjoy :)

It’s done traditionally, with pastels and edited a bit in Photoshop ;)

Here’s the short story behind it I had in mind while drawing it: there was a great winter ball held in Arendelle, with many foreign dignitaries and trade partners invited. Of course, Kristoff (er, the Royal Ice Master) was to be present there, but he felt so out of place - that’s why he sneaked out when the first chance appeared. Before he left, he told Anna he wanted to show her something. So, after having completed her duties, she found him there and they had their own little Christmas ball, with lots of waltzing.. and kissing… with falling stars in the background (that are hopefully visible in the sky?).

I tried to give them clothes that both go well together, and are Christmas/winter-themed, and I hope I succeeded, even though there’s no mistletoe?

anonymous asked:

Oh my goodness welcome to the fandom! If it's not too much trouble, could I please have an rfa + v reaction to an mc who is bilingual. Maybe they randomly switch into their other language or momentarily have a lapse in their Korean. Thank you so much and have a wonderful day! ^_^

Lol, since I am multilingual I can relate, I can end up talking with 3 different language in one sentence >.


  • He is taking you to one of the business dinner party.
  • You are actually uncomfortable, but you bear it for Jumin
  • A French man was approaching Jumin with his translator
  • To Jumin’s surprise, you greet the man back in French
  • *Conversations in French*
  • The talk ended with you scoring a new business relationship with the man for Jumin
  • My girl is amazing
  • Takes you to whoever foreign business partner, thinking you speak a thousand languages. No Jumin.


Oh I love making hcs about Jaehee and the coffee shop

  • You came late to the café because you have something else to do
  • You saw a couple standing near the display with a confused Jaehee
  • The three talking in different languages and gestures
  • It turns out they are a visiting Chinese couple
  • You help the couple with their order and accompanied them in the café until they left
  • Jaehee was amazed
  • You help her change the menu into bilingual, attracting Chinese tourists
  • You help her buy ingredients and materials from China
  • Yay, coffee shop saved by you!


  • You and Yoosung were playing LOLOL (as always)
  • People say that the Japanese server are better than the Korean server
  • So, you guys logged in there
  • Yoosung thought the language won’t be a problem since LOLOL is LOLOL everywhere right?
  • But wrong, what is this…What is that?
  • And there’s a super rare treasure hunt!
  • You saved the day by chatting with a nearby player with fluent Japanese
  • Yoosung’s jaw dropped
  • He levelled up fast and boasted his achievements to his teammates
  • It’s because of you.


  • Zen took you out for a date with him to an amusement park
  • He stood out too much, too handsome
  • When suddenly an Italian woman approached Zen
  • Zen pulls you closer
  • When the woman speaks, she speaks in broken English Zen couldn’t understand
  • But you knew the accent as Italian and spoke to her in Italian.
  • Turns out she works for a fashion magazine in Milan and wants to take pictures of Zen
  • Yes, for a price lady
  • Because of you, Zen now has a fanbase in the city of fashion!


  • Seven is an agent, so of course he is multilingual
  • He probably knows that you are multilingual too from his background checking
  • Seven is multilingual, so do you! Together? TROUBLE
  • You guys make prank calls to different countries’ government offices
  • Vanderwood just hope someone would shoot this crazy couple


  • You are helping V with one of his photo exhibitions
  • V was talking somewhere
  • So you saw a man observing a photo carefully.
  • He seemed to be really into it
  • You approach and greet the man in Korean
  • He replied back in English and explained that he wants to buy V’s photo
  • You said that selling or not selling is up to V
  • So you acted like the translator for the English man and V
  • He ended up buying almost half of the exhibit after knowing that its for charity
  • V has never been prouder
My Home

Genre: Fluff, Angst, AU

Characters: model!Kim Jongin x columnist!Reader; Reader’s parents and siblings.

Warning/s: None

Summary: You’ve been independent for long, and your parents are proud of you for that. What they’re not aware of is that you’ve been keeping something from them.

A/N: Unlike the request, I will not name any country and will be as vague as possible about it for it to be neutral. 

I’m sorry this took so freaking long???? Anyways, have fun reading!

Originally posted by intokai

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I went on a small research binge last month on Fiji Indians + being constitutionally locked out of land ownership, and some about Chinese Indonesians + pogroms last week. I was interested in the pushback that happens when an ethnic minority has a lot of economic power in a society. I had lunch with a friend this week and talked about this, and he mentioned that one of his friends was reading a book on this very thing – Amy Chua, who calls these groups market minorities, has written World On Fire: How Exporting Free Market Democracy Breeds Ethnic Hatred and Global Instability, which I checked out of the library a few hours ago. I’m ~40 pages in and excited about this (I’m unsure how much of her conclusions are correct, I’ll read the critics when I’m done with the book).

Chua’s thesis: introducing free market capitalism and democracy at the same time to a society that has a “market minority” (an economically productive ethnic group) leads to escalating tensions as the market minority gains more economic power & the majority population gains political power, mutually fucking each other up more.

Markets concentrate enormous wealth in the hands of an ‘outsider’ majority, fomenting ethnic envy and hatred among often chronically poor majorities. In absolute terms the majority may or may not be better off, but any sense of improvement is overwhelmed by their continuing poverty and the hated minority’s economic success. More humiliating still, market-dominant minoroties (along with their foreign investor partners) invariably come to control the crown jewels of the economy, often symbolic of the nation’s patrimony and identity: oil in Russia and Venezuela, diamonds in South Africa, silver and tin in Bolivia, teak and rubies in Burma. …

When free market democracy is pursued in the presence of a market-dominant minority, the almost invariable result is backlash, typically taking one of three forms: backlash against markets, targeting the market minority’s wealth; backlash against democracy by the market minority & allies; violence, sometimes genocidal, against the market minority.

The book opens with Chua recounting the murder of her Chinese-Philippine aunt Leona by her chauffeur. I found this part sickening in every way and fascinating as hell:

[One of my uncles] replied tersely that the killer had not been found. His wife explained at the Manila police had essentially closed the case. I could not understand my relatives’ matter of fact attitude. Were they not more shocked that my aunt had been killed in cold blood, by people who worked with her, lived with her, saw her every day? Why were they not outraged that the [complicit] maids had not been released? My uncle was short with me. “That’s the way things are here. This is the Philippines – not America.”

My uncle was not simply being callous. As it turns out, my aunt’s death is part of a common pattern. Hundreds of Chinese in the Philippines are kidnapped every year, almost invariably by ethnic Filipinos. Many victims, often children, are brutally murdered, even after a ransom is paid. Other Chinese, like my aunt, are killed without a kidnapping, usually in connection with a robbery. The policemen in the Philippines, all poor ethnic Filipinos themselves, are notoriously unmotivated in these cases. When asked by a Western journalist why it is so frequently the Chinese who are targeted, one grinning Filipino policeman explained it was because “they have more money”.

My family is part of the Philippines’ tiny but entrepreneurial, economically powerful Chinese minority. Just 1 percent of the population, Chinese Filipinos control as much as 60% of the private economy (!!!!!!!!!!!), including the country’s four major airlines and almost all of the country’s banks, hotels, malls, and major conglomerates. …

Since my aunt’s murder, one childhood memory keeps haunting me. I was eight, staying at my family’s splendid hacienda-style house in Manila. It was dawn, still dark. Wide awake, I decided to get a drink from the kitchen. I must have gone down an extra flight of stairs, because I literally stumbled onto six male bodies. I had found the male servants’ quarters. My family’s houseboys, gardeners, and chauffeurs were sleeping on mats on a dirt floor. The place stank of sweat and urine. I was horrified.

Later that day I mentioned the incident to my Aunt Leona, who laughed affectionately and explained that the servants – there were perhaps twenty living on the premises, all ethnic Filipinos – were fortunate to be working for our family. If not for their positions, they would be living amount rats and open sewers without even a roof over their heads. A Filipino maid then walked in; I remember that she had a bowl of food for my aunt’s Pekingese. My aunt took the bowl but kept talking as if the maid were not there. The Filipinos, she continued – in Chinese, but plainly not caring whether the maid understood or not – were lazy and unintelligent and didn’t really want to do much else. If they didn’t like working for us, they were free to leave any time. After all, my aunt said, they were employees, not slaves.

………gah. I did not grok how it must feel to have a bunch of foreigners come into your country and somehow take up all the resources and good jobs and make a living off the land that used to be yours and you’re barely keeping afloat buying the things you need to survive from them, and you want them gone you want them out – before the first thirty pages of this book. I went from a culture where immigrants aren’t really a thing to a culture where (our less powerful) immigrants are great and we love them! That this book has been so eye-opening so far probably speaks to my failure of imagination/empathy.

I’m currently on the chapter on Myanmar/Burma, where the situation is similar – the Chinese own e v e r y t h i n g, especially since the US has been boycotting Myanmar on human rights grounds. The Sino-Burmese that were already there (plus Chinese immigrants who came down and bought identity papers to work there) have collaborated with the military government to profit from deforestation / drug trade / gem exports. After South Asia, Chua’s book will also cover market minorities in Latin America, Russia, Africa, the Middle East. I’m psyched and will probably post excerpts again.

Swedish Government Resigns

Hjalmar Hammarskjöld (1862-1953), Swedish Prime Minister 1914-1917.

March 29 1917, Stockholm–Sweden had remained neutral during the war, but had been very friendly to Germany.   Swedish diplomats helped Germany circumvent the cutting of Germany’s international telegraph lines.  The Swedes had mined the Øresund to prevent British submarines from entering the Baltic. They were one of Germany’s last foreign trading partners, as the Baltic Sea was one of the few routes not closed by the British blockade.  This had not gone unnoticed by the Allies, however, who from August 1916 had essentially included Sweden in the blockade of Germany until the Swedes could sufficiently guarantee that no goods exported to them would be re-exported to Germany.

This had severe consequences in the winter of 1917, which hit Sweden almost as hard as it hit the Central Powers.  Food supplies dwindled, and prices skyrocketed.  The Swedish foreign minister negotiated a deal with the British to allow more food to be imported, provided the Swedes reduced their exports to Germany.  The Swedish Prime Minister, Hjalmar Hammarskjöld (father to UN Secretary General Dag), rejected the agreement.  This caused a political crisis, and Hammarskjöld was forced to resign on March 29.  This did not repair relations with Britain; an adequate trade agreement was not reached for over a year.

Today in 1916: Fierce Fighting on Extreme Left at Verdun
Today in 1915:  First German Gas Regiment Formed

Looking for a Study Buddy?

Hi guys! This is just a post to introduce newer followers to my study buddy/group project I started a while back. 

This project is a way for Japanese learners to find study partners who match their level, and have the same learning goals and interests. There are individual lists for one-on-one partnering, and also existing groups/a group option for those who want to study with more people. 

If you are interested, please read the details below! Also reblog/spread the word so we can find more partners!


Note: Both of the existing groups are not that active the last time I checked, and I’m not sure if Japanese-Revision is still running the cafe. Please message me if you are interested in starting a new group! I am also in the process of finding native speakers interested in having language exchanges, but so far there is only one.

unknxwnhxcker  asked:


French Nicknames are weird ok?

“Well, mon moitié fits, right?” It had a lot of translations from what he understands though… “Mitsuhide… is my partner in our work, so it’s like that…”


anonymous asked:

what placements would indicate someone who will marry a foreigner?

- Venus in the ninth house
- Libra on the ninth house cusp
- Jupiter in the fifth or seventh house
- Sagittarius on the fifth/seventh house cusp
- Venus in aspect to Jupiter (sometimes)
- Juno in Sagittarius or in aspect to Jupiter
- Juno in the ninth house

These things in transit are more likely to spark romantic endeavors with the types of people in question generally, but especially when it comes to foreigners or individuals of different backgrounds than yourself, so maybe pay less attention to your natal chart for this and more attention to transits.

I am about to get full-on horror genre nerd on you and talk about why Crimson Peak was a love letter, and why it would be what we regularly see in genre films if genre fiction hadn’t been taken over by male voices and the male gaze. 

There are a lot of triggers and spoilers under here, so please proceed with caution. 

Originally posted by bowtiebirdy

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anonymous asked:

svt reaction to their foreigner gf having a high sex drive/is always in the mood anytime, anywhere

TBH I think they wouldn’t really react differently if their partner was foreign and had a high sex drive. I also think that the member’s reactions wouldn’t really differ from one another anyway. But some would act slightly different. Woozi, Seungkwan, Joshua, Vernon, Dino, The8 and Hoshi would act kind of blushy at first but probably get into the mood as well. But for the other members they would probably be like ”alright well let’s have sex” ~TT


summary: irony doesn’t suit them.

pairings: adrinette and ladynoir  

sidenotes: for darling papayacha, (lamely known as @papaya-chan on tumblr, so much less cool with the n included smh) who is now officially older than dirt. thanks for introducing me to this awful show. im in pain daily thanks to you. (jokes on u bc i got u into hamilton HAHAHAH misery loves company)




She supposed, five minutes late was forgivable.

Ten was a stretch.

But thirty-five minutes in, white heels clicking on the sidewalk anxiously and hot, embarrassed blush officially glued to her cheeks, she decided that that was the last straw.




-and I am so sorry, Marinette, I had this work thing, and I couldn’t avoid it, and everyone was talking to me and before I knew it, it was 10 o’clock. Please, please call me back.”

Marinette had grown tired of clapping her hands over her ears and taking the four-year-old way out and pretending not to hear Adrien’s pleas. As childish as it was, she preferred it over actually considering.

Her phone rang again. And again, and again. He was relentless in pursuing her attention, assuming he had every intention of apologizing, for blowing her off, again.

Marinette had known from the beginning that Adrien was a flake. He wouldn’t strike you as it, but it was like he always had some little side job to do. Something that would lead him to either miss, or be twenty minutes late to a date that Marinette had scrawled on her calendar a week and a half beforehand.

She’d need only one hand to count all of the perfect, uninterrupted dates they’d had. Until now, she’d thought that those perfect dates were worth all of the fractured ones.

But at that point, standing on the sidewalk in one of her favorite dresses, alone, cold, and mortified, she knew that there was no way he could offer her a kiss on the cheek and a bouquet of flowers and everything would be solved.

“Don’t worry Marinette! I’m sure Adrien had a perfectly viable reason to miss last night’s date!” Tikki encouraged her gently. Unfortunately, Marinette wasn’t in the mood for her insatiable enthusiasm.

“I’m sure he does, Tikki. Just like he did for the last date, and the one before that, and the one before that.” Marinette said flatly.

Tikki pursed her lips and laid down on Marinette’s shoulder sadly.

“I’m sorry, Marinette. I know it’s been hard for you balancing Adrien and Ladybug, and then his knack for missing dates, and I know you still love him-“

“That doesn’t matter,” Marinette huffed, slowly taking off her silvery earrings and reattaching her Ladybug ones. “I don’t want to be with someone who isn’t going to be there for e. Even if…even if I do…love him.”

Tikki shifted her face uncomfortably. “Maybe going out for a run will make you feel better.”

Marinette offered her a soft, sad half grin.

“Why not?’ She asked rhetorically. “Tikki, transform me!”




He had a hero’s complex.

That’s what Plagg called it, at least. And it was the reason he’d arrived in front of a restaurant nearly forty minutes late, with no angry girl friend to yell at him for being a disgrace.

He’d rather her yell at him than ignore him, and after the fifth call, he began to wonder if this had been his final mistake.




“Someone’s going to see you,” Plagg told him, even though he knew his warning would fall on ignorant ears. Adrien had been all silence and glom ever since missing Marinette on their date, due to a sinking boat on the river with people trapped inside.

Not that Adrien could ever tell Marinette that.

Adrien threw a rock off the roof and watched it bounce, one, two, three times until it hit the ground below. Adrien was lucky enough no pedestrians had noticed him lingering on what was undoubtedly private property, and that he hadn’t managed to strike any pedestrians was a miracle in itself.

“She’ll forgive you,” Plagg reasoned with him. She always does…

Adrien made a sound of protest, his voice coming out in a low rumble. He hurled another rock to the ground and sighed.

“She shouldn’t have to.” He argued, moving a rock between his fingers and enjoying the feel before inevitably hucking it at the ground in frustration.

“Well,” Plagg shrugged. “I guess you’re screwed.”

Adrien sent him the iciest glare he’d seen since the Great Depression.


Plagg wasn’t nearly condescending enough to reply with “you’re welcome,” but he did have the humility to attempt to console his longtime friend.

“I’m sorry, you know.” Plagg told him sincerely. “This is a burden…I…never really asked if you wanted it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Adrien told him, although from his tone, Plagg didn’t feel very forgiven. “It’s my ‘hero’s complex’, right?” Adrien smiled like he was trying to crack a bitter joke.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Plagg asked him. “Marinette is a nice girl, but you’ll get over her.”

Adrien made a ‘hmm’ sound and Plagg sighed, sitting down on a rock Adrien had probably lanned on throwing.

“…Wanna go for a run to cheer you up?”

Adrien raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you hated runs.”

“I do. They’re pointless, and require me to expel unnecessary energy on things that don’t benefit me or you.” Plagg deadpanned. “…But, I know you like them. God knows why.”

Adrien smiled in appreciation. “Alright. But only because you asked.”

“You little shi-“

“Plagg, transform me!”




Ladybug’s arms tensed as she grabbed onto the bars of the Eiffel Tower and pulled herself upwards. The higher the got, the more wind blew in her face. She liked the way it made her forget where she was, and what she was doing.

Being one of the world’s greatest tourist attractions, Ladybug tended to seat herself below the viewing deck so she wouldn’t be interrupted by said tourists. Plus, the view was always a killer.

Ladybug rolled her head around, soothing the kinks in her neck and sighing. Runs were her favorite, although they involved less running and much more flying. There was something invigorating about being in complete control of your motion that she loved, and always soothed her when she was sad, or seething, or lonely.

She rubbed her mask softly, sometimes she forgot it was there, and she’d get paranoid that it had fallen off sometime on the way. Even though that was impossible, sometimes her paranoia got the better of her.

Ladybug quickly swung her legs over the cool, aged metal of the tower, leaning her head against the nearest framework and enjoying the utter feel of Paris all around her. It was easy to understand why so many people were drawn here, French or not. It was her home, and she loved it.


At the sound of her ego’s name, Marinette felt disappointment seep into her mind slowly. She’d been discovered, probably by tourists, who would no doubt want an autograph. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate them, it was just that this point in time was very inconvenient for tourists. She just needed to wallow in her anger and sadness, by herself.

She turned around slowly wearing the fakest smile she could conjure, only to be surprised in not seeing an eager group of foreigners, but her partner.

“Chat Noir?” She blinked. It was him, he was directly opposite her, just a few tens of feet across. He was leaning on crouched knees, peering up at her with those glowing green cat eyes. What was he doing here, anyways?

“What are you doing here?” He asked her before she could ask him the same thing.

“I’m…I’m…uh,” she looked down at her hands for some sort of excuse. No lucky charm could help her now.

He used his staff to push himself over to the side of the tower she was sitting on, and situated himself beside her, with a support beam between them.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to have a reason.” He told her softly. “Sometimes, I just come here to get away…”

She looked over at him from behind the beam and sighed. “Me too.”

She listened to the beat of his breathing, which was remarkably uneven. He must’ve had a rough night, not unlike hers. She bitterly thought back to standing in the cold in front of the restaurant, waiting for a boyfriend who didn’t care enough to show up.

He looked awful, on the breathing note. She snuck a look at him despite being separated by a chunk of the Eiffel Tower, he seemed almost pale, and his eyes were hooded with exhaustion. He’d been thinking about something pretty hard, that was for sure.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like, if we never became…” he looked down at his suit with grim seriousness. She understood.

“All the time.” She answered succinctly.

He stayed silent, like he was mulling over her answer. Meanwhile, she tried to decipher what had him so shaken.

Chat Noir was the kind of guy to stay loose and happy even when things seemed dire – that’s what made him so easy to be around, but, of course, no one was untouchable. Ladybug happened to know he was fiercely protective of his friends, and everyone in general. Still, it was nearly impossible to tell what had happened without more information.

“I think I ruined my life.”

Well, that said something.

Ladybug wanted to say something immediately to calm his probably aching nerves, but he stopped her before she could even open her mouth.

“And don’t try to demean it, I know I have.” He sighed in frustration. “I just – I can’t find a balance, you know?”

Balance was a funny word. Because no matter what – balance required sacrifice.

She’d struggled for so many years on the same issue – how could you find a balance? Two different lives, lives that had to stay completely separate. She danced with the question every night before bed, and every night the answer seemed to get more and more complicated.

But maybe all questions didn’t need answers.

She sighed.

“Chat Noir – balance inevitably means that you’re going to have to give up something. In order to maintain balance, something else must be cut out of your life.” She told him slowly.

He nodded, absorbing her words like gospel. “What…what do you mean?”

“I mean, that perfect balance isn’t always a good thing.” She said, suddenly realizing she was divulging one of her best kept secrets.

He tipped his head quizzically. She didn’t blame him, she felt the same way when Tikki had suggested it.

“If balance means you have to lose something – something you love, something you can’t live without – it balance really worth it?”

He looked down at the world below. He must’ve understood her. The thought was as ludicrous to him as it had been to her two years ago – when facing the choice, her best friend, or her secret identity. Balance meant that to preserve her two lives, Alya would have to go.

And if that was what balance meant, then Marinette wanted no part of it.

“What do I do?” He inquired. She smiled, pushing her hair behind her mask and leaning her head against the barrier between them.

“Do whatever it takes to get your life back. And screw balance! Cats always land on their feet anyways, don’t they?” She asked him slyly. He laughed, and she brightened significantly. Maybe he’d actually heed her advice.

“My Lady, dost my ears deceive me, or did you just make a cat joke?” He questioned her jokingly.

“You tell me,” she shrugged. He seemed much better now.

If only he could give her advice on how to properly break up with a boy you’re in love with.

He stood up, long, lean-muscled arms reaching to the sky as if he’d been reawakened.

“You know, I used to love you.” He told her, eyes facing out to the city, like the words were nothing but words etched in a history book.

She looked down sadly. “What changed?”

He looked back at her, green eyes dancing with enlightenment and something else disturbingly familiar.


She had only a few moments to react before he – quite literally – leapt off of the Eiffel Tower, face first, and disappeared from her sight.

“Damn,” she remarked, having no other words to say, She lifted herself to her feet, thinking about everything she’d told him and how hypocritical she was being.

How could she expect Adrien to understand how she felt without telling him? He was so busy with work, and his career, and his uptight father – maybe he was trying to balance everything. She knew a thing or two about struggling to manage her time. Maybe Adrien was just having more trouble than she was. She knew he wasn’t the kind of person to intentionally hurt her.

Whipping out her yo-yo and aiming it at the closest building, she made a decision.

She’d call him.




When she got home – Marinette, that is – he didn’t answer her call.

Instead, Chat Noir was waiting at her window.

She opened it slowly, her fingers slipping at the edges, hat was he doing here? What was he doing? Wasn’t he going to take her advice?

“I have something to tell you,” he said, voice rushed as his words cae out in short huffs, like he’d been waiting a lifetime just to tell her those words.

“Chat Noir, what? What are you doing he-“

He placed a finger to her lips, eyes mischievous and knowing. She was effectively silenced, only to watch in awe as he lifted his other hand and slowly slipped his ring off.

Speechless wasn’t the word she was looking for.

When Adrien looked back at her, guiltily holding the black ring with a small smile, she had no words, thoughts, or feelings.

“Sorry I’m late.”




this is a p ugly present and i formally apologize bUT ur birthday will probably be great now go get lit and do body shots

Practice Makes Pefect

Thought of this idea last minute and it’s 1 a.m. right now, so if this sucks, I’ll delete this later :P 

Originally posted by thefaultinourpromises

Hailee Steinfeld- Rock Botton

“What do you think of kissing?” Stiles asked. 

Stiles and I have known each other since 2nd grade, and have been best friends ever since. I knew him like the back of my hand, and he knew me like the colors of the sky. The only thing he didn’t know about me was that I loved him just as much as our friendship. Maybe even more. 

I guess it started as soon as we met- I just didn’t admit it to myself until we started freshman year. 

We were currently lying under a tree after school discussing things from science class to evolution of the poptart. 

“What do you mean?” I asked. 

“Like-” he propped himself up by his elbows. “We’ve both had our share of relationships, right? Are kisses that special?”  

Pondering over his words, a thought washed over me that had me realize- I’d never really felt anything special when I’ve kissed any of my boyfriends. Or anyone for that matter. 

“I don’t know… I guess it depends on the type of kiss. And the person.” 

“What kind of kisses are there?” he asked blatantly. 

“You know…” I choked lightly. “Pecks, locking, french kissing, neck kisses, stuff like that.”

“How do I know what they mean? Or- or what they are?” he frowned. 

“Well, if she’s a good kisser, it’ll probably be really easy to tell which is which,” I chuckled. 

“Well, what if I don’t?” he raised his eyebrow. 

Staring at him with a confused expression, he elaborated further. 

“What if I’m in a situation where I’m kissing a girl, and I don’t know what it means- shouldn’t I have knowledge of that?” 

“Stiles- I’m a witch, not a mind reader.” 

“The best way to learn something, is to practice. Right?” he pointed out matter of factly.

I nodded in agreement, still wondering what his aim was. 

“Help me practice,” he concluded confidently. Widening my eyes, I froze and stared at him like a murderer on the loose.

“Me? The socially inept weirdo whom you’ve known for 10 years?” 

“Why not? You’re the closest friend I have. Probably the closest one I’ll ever have,” he said warmly. 

I had nothing to lose. Scooting closer to him, we sat cross legged, facing each other. 

“So when you initiate the relationship i.e. dropping her off after your first date, you give her a peck or vice versa.” Leaning, I gave him a small peck on the cheek. I could’ve sworn I saw a small blush form, but I ignored it. 

He nodded, processing the “new” information. 

“Then, you’d have the bolder move- a peck on the lips.” I placed my hands on his cheeks and brought him in for a small peck on the lips. 

“After you start dating for a while, you move onto the lip-lock, or what’s considered the norm for couples. Kind of like the ‘see you after class’ kiss in between periods.” Tilting my head, I pressed my lips against his and pulled away after a few seconds. 

“Everything’s pretty much mapped out for you after that,” I summed up. 

“What about french kissing and stuff like that?” he asked almost in a hurry. 

“Wouldn’t that be a little awkward between us? I mean- you’re like my brother. I don’t want to ruin our friendship or anything,” I chuckled nervously. 

“It won’t,” he smiled. “I promise. But I get to try this time. You have to be honest with me, okay?” 

Before I could respond, his lips were on my neck, trailing a line to my jaw then to my lips. 

His tongue traced along my lips, teasing me lightly until finally allowing us to meet halfway in the middle. It seemed like a waltz between me and a new partner- foreign and odd, but something felt so right. 

When we pulled away, my hands were involuntarily in his hair while his were on my cheeks. Coughing lightly, I turned to face the other way when he guided me by my cheek back to his lips. 

“But- you- you like Lydia…” I stuttered. 

“Are you kidding?” he chuckled. “I like you. No- I love you.”


“First day of 2nd grade. You were the only one that would talk to me- the geek. I didn’t realize how big of a denial I was in until 8th grade. Your prom date ditched you and I danced with you instead. It’s always been you Y/N.” 

Rather than saying anything that would potentially ruin the moment, I locked my arms around his neck as we landed on the grass with a soft thud. 

Kissing him for what felt like the millionth time, I felt him smile against me as I realized that I was finally with the person I truly loved. 

He eyed me- confused- when we pulled away, waiting for my response of course. 

“I’d give you an A+ Stilinski,” I giggled. 

“Practice does make perfect,” he responded while bringing me in for another kiss. 

In honor of my husband, Tremaine, here are some inspired plots from his latest album, TRIGGA.

F O R E I G N  : Muse A is known as a “sell-out” to their friends because of the foreign partners they dated. All Muse A’s life they’ve been fascinated by the features and looks from different ethnicities. One night as Muse A attends a party, they come across Muse B, who is one of the masked dancers. Muse B was originally born in another country but they somehow illegally made it into the United States. After giving Muse A a seductive and erotic dance session, Muse B leaves without giving them a name and Muse A is left in despair. Weeks later Muse B goes grocery shopping and they accidentally crash their shopping cart into Muse A, who is coming around the corner. Muse B realizes it is Muse A but Muse A is completely unaware that they are the dancer from the club.

N A N A : Muse A is a personal trainer at the local gym and they have mastered in many different aspects of training. Muse B is a professional boxer and they are amused that someone as small Muse A would be their be their new trainer but Muse A does not know Muse B is just as strong as they are. The two have a very rocky relationship in the beginning due to Muse B’s egoistical manners and Muse A’s bluntness, which makes them bumps heads every 5 minutes. Muse B feels that Muse A should loosen up and stop taking everything so serious while Muse A thinks Muse B should keep their focus on boxing and nothing else. After Muse B wins their first couple of matches, the two go out to celebrate and Muse B finally takes in Muse A’s features outside of the gym, making the first move to mix business with pleasure.

D I S R E S P E C T F U L : Muse A is best friends with Muse B’s fiancé and Muse B is best friends with Muse A’s fiancé. The four of them would always go on double dates and hang out but both Muse A and Muse B would never communicate. Sometimes Muse A would catch Muse B staring and sometimes Muse B would catch Muse A giving them certain looks. It’s obvious that the two are attracted to each other but they were both in different relationships and Muse A decides to not come to anymore of the dates. Muse B however is upset and after a period of time they eventually go to Muse A’s house to find out the problem. Muse A finally reveals their true feelings about Muse B and Muse B does the same and they both end up sleeping with each other. It was supposed to be a one night stand but the igniting flame between the two just grew wilder, both muses making trips to each other’s jobs during lunch breaks and having sex anywhere they can. While their involvement continued to grow, their relationships began to falter.

S M A R T P H O N E S : Both muses would be seen as one of the media’s top couples and from outside on in, they seemed like the perfect couple. At least that was what Muse A thought. They were so blinded by the fame and merchandise that they didn’t even realize Muse B was seeing other people. Muse B is a very famous singer/rapper and he has always carried around different phones with him to keep from getting caught up. One day Muse A calls/facetimes Muse B and with them being so wrapped up in the lustful affair, they accidentally answer the phone and Muse A hears everything. Once Muse B notices what has happened, they race to where Muse A is, who is attempting to commit suicide.  

Y E S , N O , M A Y B E  : Muse B is very obnoxious and in denial of being in love with Muse A. They believe that Muse A would be nothing without them and would never leave their side. After Muse A catches Muse B with another companion in their own home, they finally leave and Muse B is taken aback by their actions, not believing this is actually happening. For weeks Muse B doesn’t hear anything from Muse A and starts leaving obscene voicemails and texts messages; as well as random visits to their job. Muse A is doing their best not to give Muse B any or their attention and Muse B starts becoming desperate, beginning the other to come back. 


Link to Masterlist

Zayn Malik One-Shot

Requested: Yes-for something with “Zayn and his art”
Warnings: None!
Word Count: 2,280

You were never late to your classes, ever. Rarely was there a time when you even missed a class. But of course, today it had to pour down rain and on your way from your dorm there was a moment when you happened to glance down and realize you had forgotten your sketch book. Of all the things in the world, on all the days in the semester, it was the day your Art 209: Drawing II Professor was giving the details on your final project that accounted for majority of your final grade.

It was about ten minutes into class and you figured all the information was given out and you missed the most important parts. If you would walk any faster—well you didn’t think it was possible to walk much faster without running—there was a tiny chance you would catch the tail end of it.

Your hand, shaking, wet and cold from the weather, finally reached for the door to the room. If there was anything you hated more than being late for class, it was how everyone always looked at the person entering the room. It was almost like an A-list celebrity walked in and all anyone could do was stare in complete awe at them. Naturally, your classmates did the exact same thing when you went stumbling through the door. The professor didn’t bother acknowledging you, either. She wasn’t the type to care too much, if you were late it was up to you to get the work. She’d never go out of her way to see to it that any of her students were excelling either. It was quite obvious she was just there for the paycheck.

Keep reading

Iraq’s main labor unions declared that ‘the privatization of oil is a red line that may not be crossed’ and, in a joint statement, condemned the law as an attempt to seize Iraq’s ‘energy resources at a time when the Iraqi people are seeking to determine their own future while still under conditions of occupation.’ The law that was finally adopted by Iraq’s cabinet in February 2007 was even worse than anticipated: it placed no limits on the amount of profits that foreign companies can take from the country and made no specific requirements about how much or how little foreign investors would partner with Iraqi companies or hire Iraqis to work in the oil fields. Most brazenly, it excluded Iraq’s elected parliamentarians from having any say in the terms for future oil contracts. […] In effect, the law called for Iraq’s publicly owned oil reserves, the country’s main source of revenues, to be exempted from democratic control and run instead by a powerful, wealthy oil dictatorship, which would exist alongside Iraq’s broken and ineffective government.
—  Naomi Klein

My name is Charlie and I’m really (like really) interested in languages.
The languages I want to learn are:
And maybe dabble in a bit of Dutch I guess.
If you’re a language blog or want to help me with any of the mentioned languages reblog and I’ll check your blog out!
Thank you!

(Also I’ll reblog anything language related, regardless if it isn’t about the ones I’m studying)

how fucked up is the mcu’s international political scene that an array of world leaders, not to mention the entire population of a major nation, sees no problem in their partner in foreign policy/monarch and representative dressing up as a giant cat and parkouring off the UN building