parisian boys


Frank Ocean added an annotation to Slide’s page on Genius, breaking down a lyric off of his verse.

“Boy With A Pipe” is a painting by Pablo Picasso, which was painted in 1905 during his Rose Period. The oil on canvas painting shows a Parisian boy holding a pipe in his left hand. “Boy With A Pipe” sold for a record-breaking $104.2 million.

Foreign Language Films

Hey there, below I thought i’d list some of my favorite foreign language films (films where English is not the primary language), feel free to add some of your favorites! I find watching these films really helpful, as they both improve your listening skills, and introduce you to the culture of the country where your target language is spoken!

Note: all the films listed are ones I have seen, so sorry if there are some classics I may have missed off!

P.S I’m linking the films to their IMDB pages for you to have a look!


Volver - Pedro Almodóvar - A really funny and touching film about how the dead continue to influence the lives of those they leave behind

Todo sobre mi madre - Pedro Almódovar - A fascinating look at the role of gender and parents in Spanish life today 

El secreto de sus ojos - Juan José Campanella - A very entertaining thriller, full of suspense with some great acting. Won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film in 2009. Spoken in Argentinian Spanish 

Los amantes pasajeros - Pedro Almódovar - An exceedingly funny film from Almódovar, full of wit and laughs 

El laberinto de fauno - Guillermo del toro - A beautiful film, full of gorgeous imagery, set against the backdrop of Franco’s Spain

Como agua para chocolate - Alfonso Arau - A touching love story set in historic Mexico


La Haine - Mathieu Kassovitz - A gritty drama about the lives of 3 parisian boys during violent riots

La fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain  -  Jean-Pierre Jeunet - The hilariously touching love story about a young woman in Paris. 

Les Choiristes - Christophe Barratier - The story of a new teacher in a strict boarding school aiming to transform the lives of the students through music. Think French school of Rock 

Jean de Florette - Claude berri - The story of a greedy landowner in ruarl Provence. Way more interesting than it sounds  


La vita é bella - Robert Begnini - A beautiful drama about war time Italy. Winner of 3 Oscars

Habemus Papam - Nanni Moretti - The story of a newly elected pope, who doesn’t want to be pope, and so ends up running away. Light hearted and thought provoking 

Nuovo Cinema Paradiso - Giuseppe Tornatore - A story of how a filmaker fell in love with the movies as a child. 


Good Bye Lenin! - Wolfgang Becker - A funny and touching story set against the backdrop of the collapse of the Berlin Wall, and a son’s attempt to prevent his ill mother from finding out about the collapse of communism (have you seen this @languageoclock ?)


Hey, are any of my followers Astro Boy fans? Because I am seriously FREAKING OUT right now and I haven’t seen this video on tumblr yet It probably already is but whatever. 

Anyway it looks likes Astro’s getting another reboot for 2015 and the teaser for it looks INCREDIBLE!! Look at this animation guys!! And the colors and the music and the backgrounds! SO COOL!! X3

I’m just so thrilled they’re bringing Astro back!

anonymous asked:

Ok, but what about someone slipping Lumiere a love potion meant for Plumette?? And now Lumiere is even MORE in love with her (IS THAT POSSIBLE!?) and whoever was pining over Plumette is just... SOL??? (idk, man, I need to lay off the coffee)

HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT nobody ever TOLD me that this prompt was POSSIBLE. i was about to go to bed but GUESS WHO’S WRITING FANFIC NOW, BITCHES

“I don’t want the child,” says Agathe, again. She stands against the churchyard steps, confusion evident in her tilted eyebrows and blank eyes, watching the woman babbling on before her.

“You always do,” says the woman.

Agathe’s eyes are very blank and very calm. The village woman does not know how much danger she is in.

“It’s a witch-thing, innit? And I have a babe. And I have a demand,” says the woman. “And it will only take a minute of your time—why, I’m sure you have loads of the potions in your pockets, just crawling with toads and newts-eyes and such-on….”

Agathe blinks, quietly. All that is in her pockets is owl feathers.

The woman sighs. “Fine. Do it for the justice, right? You witches like justice. Isn’t that why you cursed all of them, then?” Her hand waves toward the village, the forest, the palace—the palace where, as Agathe knows, Lumiere is at this moment sitting in his room, nursing a cold. He is trying to tell jokes to Plumette through a stuffed-up nose. He makes his darling laugh as she curls up beside him on the bed; and Plumette doesn’t care if she gets sick too, for all she wants is to giggle with her love. 

“Justice,” says the woman, grabbing Agathe’s arm, and the enchantress’s attention is drawn back to this moment. A moment which, Agathe thinks, is lasting forever.

“He’s gone gallivanting off with that girl,” says the woman, bitter as a sour apple. “She’s lured him off, with her Parisian wiles. He’s lost his wholesomeness beside her! How can you stand for that?!”

Agathe checks in on the girl’s Parisian wiles. Plumette is currently engaged in putting marshmallows into Lumiere’s hot cocoa. She’s trying to poke them into a smiley face for him.

“It’s time he loves me again,” hisses the woman. “I was his first.”

You are lucky you are not my last, thinks Agathe. There is a broken musket buried deep in the forest near her hovel. It was once a man.

“So?” The woman shoves forward her child—a little girl, only just in skirts, with no idea of what her mother begs for. “A child. A love potion. You like love, don’t you?”

Agathe does like love. And the child would probably like to see an owl. And the wheedling woman has her pinned against the church.

“Here,” she says, and fetches into her deepest pocket. She pulls out a jar. “Oh, no—not that one—that’s my jam.” She pulls out another. “Here. Look away.”

The woman looks at her askance, for a moment. Begrudgingly, she turns her eyes away.

The child—little Crevette, daughter of the war widow, with a papa killed in the faraway gunfire—stares with big, brown eyes as Agathe’s face glows gold, then disappears. The Enchantress peers out, her hands glowing as she gestures over the small bottle. Its contents turn purple—then red—then a hot, rich burgundy. It looks like summer wine. It looks like just-crushed grapes.

Agathe’s face returns, and she smiles at the child. Takes Crevette’s hand, with cautious fingers, fingers that leave no sense of touch. She hands the jar to the woman.

“Be careful,” she says. “It is heady with marjoram.”

The woman is gone without saying good-bye.

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