how you doin' friends

flirting in french; god, how i would love to be smooth in any language. i’d like to think this is pretty important - as this is part of socializing in any language. flirtation is a very different thing than “picking up.” picking up is a kind of hunting game with a very pointed and invariable goal. flirtation, at least in france, is a totally different thing. it’s a different culture, a different lifestyle. it’s a way of being in everyday life, and unlike picking up, it has no defined goal. sometimes the french flirt because it’s just delightful to do so. think salt to pepper relationship. allowing each one to check, and at different levels, if he or she still has some charm operating. 

i would say that simple is always best: merely walk up to your chosen girl or guy and say je vous trouve absolument charmante, or i find you absolutely charming / beautiful. be classy and to the point. with that and mind, read on!

so; why flirt in french?

  • well, french is a sexy language. not going to lie. 
  • it’s the planet’s most-hyped language of love.
  • reaching that level of fluency feels amazing.
  • it gives you that confidence. social confidence.
  • helps to develop communication skills. 

french learning and french flirting 

  • let’s face it: in france, (or in any country for that matter), nobody speaks like a textbook, the president, or a language learning site (i’m looking at you, duolingo). it’s great for memorizing the fundamentals, but lacks that extra step that stands between you and complete fluency. 
  • flirting is part of socializing - and linguistically (i don’t know, it helped with me) it improves retention. it’s also just interesting to learn! 
  • flirting is just well.. fun. even if it doesn’t go anywhere.
  • a bit of verbal charm isn’t always necessary : but in my opinion, it helps you sound more natural / at ease / friendly. 
  • i somewhat lack verbal charm (i’m very, very awkward in social situations) so i probably need this masterpost as much as anyone else (: 

the classics: make love last. 
this is based upon what i’ve heard at school / restaurants / bars. 
okay fine: it’s based on the movies i’ve watched too. 

  • j’ai envie de t’embrasser / embrasse-moi - kiss me.. annouce it - make your intentions known! i’d like to kiss you’ - okay, you could just kiss someone instead of letting them know. but i don’t know.. there’s something romantic about it? best with a longing, meaningful stare. 
  • je t’aime: i’m pretty sure we all know this one. best with someone you care deeply for, i wouldn’t say this on a first date - but if you’re the direct type : this can help you get from a to z pretty quickly. 

the simple compliments
using these with a flirty look / tone of voice  can do wonders. play with your expression while practicing these: it makes a difference, trust me. t’es toujours canon toi ou quoi?

you can also add trop ( = too). example: trop belle, trop mignon(ne).
you can also add tellement ( = so) example: t’es tellement belle!
you can also add si ( = so) example: t’es si mignonne.
you can also use grave ( = totally) example: t’es grave belle. 

  • t’es mignon(ne).
  • t’es belle (/beau), toi. 
  • t’es canon. ( = you’re smoking hot). 
  • t’es con. ( = you’re an idiot) - i’ve seen this used a lot flirtatiously.
  • t’es drôle. ( = you’re funny)
  • t’es magnifique. 
  • t’es charmant(e). 
  • t'es coquin / coquine! ( = you’re such a tease.)

the ‘social and the flirty’ 
these can be used as compliments / or flirtatiously. depends on your relationship with the person you’re giving them to. 

  • cette beauté chaton, tu m’ éblouie. ( = you dazzle me with your beauty.)
  • une beauté divine. ( = a divine beauty or: you’re so divine.)
  • ouloulouloulouloulou. ( = you really have to hear this one.)
  • tu brilles de mille feux.
  • j'te pécho. ( = like the equivalent of ‘to pick up someone’ in english). 
  • bg, or beau / belle gosse ( = hot guy, hot girl). 
  • une petite merveille. ( = a wonder, someone to be marveled at). 
  • une bombe. ( = bombshell, someone pretty - same thing as ‘belle gosse’.)
  • le petit côté mystérieux femme fatale je kiffe. - je kiffe means i like. 
  • la beauté à l état pur ( = beauty at its purest form). 
  • dingue! ( = crazy, as in crazy beautiful). 
  • j'ai pas les mots.( = i have no words). 
  • wahhh, la classe! ( = classy!)
  • c’est fou, tant de beauté ( = you’re so beautiful, it’s crazy.)

flirting at a bar or restaurant? 

  • t’as d’beaux yeux, tu sais? the phrase ‘you’ve got beautiful eyes’ pretty much works in any language (though, i think it sounds extra gorgeous in french). the phrase actually comes from a french film called le quai des brumes. fair warning: this is an extreme cliché, : it’s basically the english equivalent of do you come here often? it can be said ironically, if you’re not the cliché type.  
  • je peux t’offrir / vous (formal) un verre ? : can i buy you a drink?
  • vous êtes célibataire ? mais comment est-ce possible ? - you’re single? but how’s that possible? 
  • vous venez souvent ici ? - do you come here often? classic.  a phrase that transcends cultural barriers: “ the sentence could be followed up by complaints — about the bartender, about the clients or about how the bar isn’t as good as it used to be. a french tradition is râler, a sort of complaining. finding things to complain about is a way that many french people choose to bond with new acquaintances. this is not true of anyone.
  • t’as une miette (you’ve got a crumb) as you pretend to stroke something off of someone’s face, first with your fingers, then with your lips.
  • tu m’excites ! ( = you turn me on.)
  • “j’ai une première édition de ‘à la recherche du temps perdu.’ tu veux le voir ?” -  i have the first edition of “in search of lost time. (written by proust). do you want to see it?” in france (for me, at least) cultural knowledge is sexy. in America, we often ask if you’d like a nightcap. choose something cultural and intellectual in france, and you’re far more likely to get a oui.
  • je veux te revoir. ( = i want to see you again.) 
  • quoi de beau? ( = how you doin’ - joey, friends.)
  • excuse-moi. est-ce que t’embrasses les inconnus ? non ? donc, je me présente. excuse me, do you kiss strangers? No? then let me introduce myself.
  • excuse-moi, j'ai perdu mon numero de téléphone. est-ce que je peux t'emprunter le tien?“ excuse me, i seem to have lost my phone number. could I borrow yours? 

let me know if you’d like to know more! you can never be too charming.

VLIVE - NAMJOON CHAT ROOM

↳ hi
↳  everything alright?
↳ how you doin (english)
↳ right, I went to meet my friends but they all have exams
↳ I miss you a lot
↳ feels like it’s been months since weve seen each other
↳ I miss you (japanese)
↳ I can’t write music well
↳ there are a lot of times when I want to be lazy so I’m trying to fix it
↳ I need to read read books and study Japanese
↳ why do I want to loaf around so much
↳ It’s the same as when I was a high school student
↳ ohoho
↳ I have to go shoot
↳ I’ll be back
↳  see ya (english)
↳ XD
↳ 😘

trans; @hobuing | do not repost

Steve: This is Sam.
Tony: Hi!
Steve: And you know Natasha and Clint!
Clint: Hi, Tony.
Steve: And that’s Wanda, and that’s Bucky.
Bucky: Hey. How you doin’?
Steve: [pointing finger at Bucky] Don’t!

Lovebug

Summary: lovebug (n); the name given to the person with whom you have fallen head over heels in love. to be called a lovebug is the ultimate expression of affection. they are the love of your life.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5,207

Warnings: 40s!Bucky, memories in italics, v minor cursing, angsty fluff, sadness

A/N: so I’ve had this idea for a while and it took a life of its own, hence the word count. As always, I love hearing from you! 

A/N: a massive thank you to the american science queen @modestlyconfused for listening to me rant about this and life, helping me with details, and laughing about my autocorrect mishaps. Bucky would get you a crown too❤️

Originally posted by dailymarvel

“She’s over here.”

Steve’s voice carries over the rows.  Bucky doesn’t respond. Although the autumn sky is clear and blue, the sun is making its journey down in the sky and the breeze is cool.  It’s only when Steve places a gentle hand on his shoulder that Bucky stirs, tearing his gaze away from the weeping willow and focusing instead on his best friend.

His best friend, who knows where you are.

Keep reading

Steam6

A/N:  Wow. I wasn’t sure there was a part 6 to this story, but apparently there is. Thank you to my lovely betas ( @little-black-dress-24, @niallandharrymakemestrong, @melissas173, @emulateharry) who never fail to prop me up when I’m not sure I can do it. Thank you, ladies. You are all gems. 

Steam    Steam2     Steam3     Steam4     Steam5

After leaving Harry’s house with your loaded bag, you walk a few blocks before you flag down a cab. You feel like you’ve just experienced a three hour workout, your limbs limp. The exhaustion and weariness is so deep that you swear you can feel it at a molecular level. It hurts to raise your hand to flag the taxi. Lifting your duffel bag into the back seat with you is like tossing around a 25kg bag of rocks. Climbing into the taxi, you lean your head back, closing your eyes, holding back tears with sheer willpower.

Hauling yourself upstairs to your flat, you drop your duffel just inside the door, falling face first onto the bed without removing your clothes. Heaving sobs wrack your shoulders. The screams that you hide in your pillow sound like a wounded animal. Your howling scares you, as you’ve never heard this sound from the depths of your stomach before, but you can’t seem to stop. You cry and sob and scream until you are completely spent, and then you just lie on your bed, staring at the ceiling, completely numb, feeling the time ticking away as slowly as a snail attempting to run a marathon. When your alarm goes off, you haven’t once closed your eyes, and they feel like sandpaper as you haul yourself out of bed to take a shower. Oh, how you wish you could stay home and wallow, watching sad movies, listening to Sign of the Times nonstop, eating ice cream out of the container with a single spoon. But you have clients to see, reporters and fans to avoid.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I Love your writings! Could you please do one where Race (musical) gives reader a hickey and the other newsies try to figure out who it was?

gonna be real, i flipped my lid when i saw this request. i adore it. more like this one always and forever. —Nails

You stared at the silhouette of the boy in the bunk across from you. The two of you were trying to communicate wordlessly in the darkness, which would just get giggles out of the two of you. Eventually, the boy, Racetrack, made a clear enough gesture towards the closet at the end of the room. You got the memo and silently agreed. In seconds, the pair of you were sneaking across the room in your pajamas, avoiding as many creaky floorboards as you could. Race carefully turned the rusty doorknob, and held the door open for you. Grinning, you took a step inside. He tailed you in, and closed the door behind you. “I barely seen you all day!” The blonde whispered. Quickly, his arms found your waist. You back was slightly against the wall, due to how small the space was. Race pressed a kiss on the corner of your mouth, and looked down at you.

Shrugging, you placed your arms around his neck. “Finch asked me to sell with him today. We was lookin’ for a betta spot for him,” You muttered. Even in the darkness, Race’s brow was clearly furrowed. A look you were used to seeing. “Don’t look at me like that. You knows I’m your girl. What, do I have to say it again?” A sigh escaped your lips. Race shook his head, and in a heartbeat, his mouth was on yours. The two of you just kissed, and kissed. It had been all night, or maybe just minutes. Time was irrelevant in that closest. His mouth ran up and down your shoulders and neck, he mumbled assorted sweet nothings. Until, the blonde boy found a small spot on your neck, that just made you moan.

Needless to say, that’s how you found yourself here the next morning.

“Wake up, stupid. We gotta get there early today.” Finch shook your shoulders, forcing you out of the little sleep you’d gotten. You sat up, narrowly missing hitting your head on the ceiling. Finch stifled a gasp. “Where’d you get that?” The smirk on his face grew ten sizes. You looked around the bunk, looking for what he could possibly be meaning. “Don’t pretend like ya don’t know. You’ve got one hell of a vampire bite, there.” He spat, trying hard not to laugh.

Your hand flew to your neck, feeling a slightly swollen spot there. ‘Race, you idiot…’ you thought. “Oh god… Finch, you got a scarf—”

“It’s June.”

You groaned and flopped down on mattress again. Eventually, Finch stalked off, laughing to himself. He seemed to think this was funny, but as soon as Jack found out about this, you were dead. Jack Kelly was as good as your big brother, and there was a strict, yet unspoken, rule about newsies not dating each other. You and Race had blatantly disobeying the nonexistent rule for two months, now. You shot out of bed and went to change your clothes. Once changed, you left your hair down, and your shirt collar up. Maybe that could do something to aid in—

“(Name), who on God’s green one gave you that?” Jack asked loud enough for the whole place to hear. Most of the boys looked up from their shaving, or whatever they were doing to watch. Drama was the lifeblood of the Lower Manhattan Newsboys Lodging House. Jack rushed over to you in an instant. He pushed you collar and hair out of the way, and shook his head. ‘Finch must’ve squealed.’ You thought. Jack looked at you for an answer. Race looked at you from behind Jack, looking like he wanted to die.

You were so embarrassed. “Ooh, bet you it was Finch!” You heard one of the boys whisper to his friend. “Nah, definitely Mush…” you couldn’t stand the chatter.

“Jack, can we talk about this another time?” You said, almost too forcefully. He crossed his arms. “Listen, I was suppose to be at The World… Goin’ on three minutes ago. We’ll talk later, or so help ya God.” You spit. Jack sighed and walked passed you. You bolted passed him towards the door.

At the end of the day, you pushed through the doors and all you wanted to do was go to sleep. But too late you found out it was Poker Night. There were some kids from the other Boroughs there. Brilliant. “(Name), how ya doin’?” One of your friends from Queens hollered. “You shoulda heard what the boys’ve been sayin’.”

“Oh, I have an idea.” You said as you passed by. There were very few kids in the bedroom, though. Although, Romeo and a couple of the other younger boys sat up talking.

Romeo smiled when he saw you. “It was Race. Tell me I’m right.”

That was the last straw. You’d had it. “Yes, Romeo! It was Race. You’re right, hope you doubled yer bets on it! Go tell all a’ Manhattan while yer at it…” you climbed up into your bunk as Romeo collected nearly a dollar from one of his friends, and they ran out of the room laughing.

“(Name)? You up here?” You really hadn’t wanted to hear your name again that day, but the voice that said it bothered you less than all the other times. Race. “Romeo went and told all the boys. Secret’s out.” He stood up on the latter at your bunk and looked at you. Racetrack must’ve been anxious too, because he smelled like an ashtray. You could only imagine how much he’d smoked. “Jack ain’t mad.” After a few minutes of silence. “At least everybody knows you’re my girl now, huh?” That made you laugh a little. Race reached out and took your hand. “Come on, doll. Get up.” You looked at him.

“Why should I?”

“'Cause I think you should give me a lovebite, too. Just in case anybody was doubtin’ the authenticness of us.”

“Authenticness ain’t a word, Race.”

who needs friends when you have f•r•i•e•n•d•s?

Sick of you

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Request: Yes! Anon:  What about some Draco Malfoy imagine? Maybe like he is only kind and sweet with you. But doesn’t want that nobody finds that he is like that so when people are around, he is rude to you. You choose the end hahaha!!!

A/N: Hope you like it! I got a carried away. 

please dont hate me


“You look so cute when you blush!” my boyfriend Draco said. We’ve been together only a few weeks and I really enjoyed his company, he was always sweet to me.

“You know? It isnt fair that people say that girls look cute when they blush, they just make us blush even more!” I told him. At the moment we were near the Forbbiden Forest, it was sort of our spot.

“Well, I think it’s cute” he said looking at me s I covered my face with my hand.

“Shut up!” I said laughing “let’s go, I dont want to miss dinner”

“As you wish, my princess” 


“how you doin? guys” I said looking at Draco’s friends

“Hey Draco, Y/n” Blaise answered 

“Y/n, why dont you go to your friends while I am here?” Draco said looking at me

“I don’t want to, I want to stay here”

“And I don’t want you to be with us”

“Why?”

“I don’t like you to be with us! You are useless here” he said looking at me with something I could only descrive as disgust.

“Ok, I’ll go” I said as I walked away, he never treated me like that when we were alone. What was his problem?

“Weren’t you a little to harsh there Malfoy?” I heard Pansy, but she said in tone that sounded like she was mocking me.

“Nice one mate” was the last thing I heard as I walked away.


A little time later I was in the library when Draco came to me

“I’m sorry about that Y/n”

“I don’t know, are you?” I looked over my book

“Yeah, I dont know what happened to me” he sat next to mee and I putted my book down.

“That makes two of us”

“Y/n, I am really sorry, sorry for treating you like that babe, I am sorry”

“Ok, I belive you, just, don’t do it again ok?”

“Ok, I wont do it again, sorry again princess” 

But he will do it again. Repeteadly


Since that day I avoided to talk to Draco’s friends. But I couldn’t avoid them forever, it just kept happening, they would mock me everytime they saw me and Draco will be getting on their side, but the straw that high tumbler came when me and Draco were in a hallway talking, when Blaise and Pansy came to us.

“Draco! We just wanted to know if you were still be with us during dinner, without your stupid girlfriend, of course” Pansy said looking to me like I was just a piece of garbage.

I just stood there looking at Draco, hoping he would do or say anything, but he was just looking down, avoiding my eyes

“Yeah, maybe she could go with her mudblood friend” that was it. I couldnt stand them anymore. They could mock me but whenever someone mocked my friends I got angry, and specially my friend Emily, who was a muggle born, she was in Hufflepuff and I met her before I even met Draco. In thirth year I was in the Black Lake reading a muggle book wich I found in a library on Hogsmade when she came to me and told me that she was reading the exact same book. Since then we were friends ndwe would recomend books to each other all the time, wich was one of the tings Draco didnt accepted about me.

I was a half blood that came from a long line of purebloods until my father met a muggle and married her, and I was alays intrested in the muggle world, but since I met Draco I had to read the muggle books when I was alone.

But when I heard Zabini call Emily a mudblood I got out of there with tears forming in my eyes, not sad tears, anger tears. I was angry that every time Parkinson or zabini said something about me Draco wouldnt say nothing or he would get on their side.

I got out of the castle and went to the other side of the Black Lake, the side that was near the wall that kept Hogwarts away from the world. I sat with my back againts the wall and screamed. Even tough me and Draco had only been together for four months I was already sick of him and his friends.


Part two?

Sorry, not sorry