To start with, the modal verbs in German are:
dürfen - to be allowed to
können - to be able to
mögen - to like
müssen - to have to
sollen - to ought to
wollen - to want to
If you are only using one verb in the sentence, you can conjugate these verbs like you would any others in German.
Ich habe gedurft - I was allowed
Ich habe gekonnt - I was able to/could
Ich habe gemocht - I liked
Ich habe gemusst - I had to
Ich habe gesollt - I should have
Ich habe gewollt - I wanted to
However, most of the time you will want to use another verb in the sentence to express what you were allowed to do or liked or whatever. This means that you have to use the double infinitive construction.
Ich habe meine eigene Kleidung tragen dürfen - I was allowed to wear my own clothes
Er hat schwimmen können - He was able to swim
Wir haben Fußball spielen mögen - We liked to play football
Du hast zuhause bleiben müssen - You had to stay at home
Wammy’s House Headcanons (that all actually happened)
//As I’ve alluded to a few times, I went to a public school with very rigorous academic tracking, and thus spent most of my childhood among precocious, hypercompetitive oddballs who would have fit right in at Wammy’s House. So because I’m bored, here’s a smattering of the bullshit we got up to over the years that I think work perfectly as Wammy’s headcanons:
In elementary school, a teacher noticed that a number of the kids weren’t getting along with anyone, so she dubbed them “the Friendship Group,” made them eat lunch together in her classroom, and tried to force them to make friends with each other. The first Friendship Group lunch ended with Mello hurling a chair across the table at Near’s head. There was no second lunch.
In middle school, Matt started a secret Pokemon card club that met during lunch. Roger promptly banned it. Pissed, Matt started a secret poker club instead. Roger found out and banned it. Matt then started a no mercy rugby club…
Also in middle school, Near, Matt, and Mello set aside their differences to conspire against a particularly obnoxious substitute. Through cunning use of distractions and good teamwork, they managed to sneak behind the teacher’s desk and unplug the overhead projector seven times in forty-five minutes. They also convinced the baffled substitute that Matt’s name was actually Fred.
One day in the cafeteria, Near and Mello got into a loud and pointless argument about whether the Holy Trinity was polytheistic. The argument ended with Mello yelling “THREE PARTS, ONE WHOLE, DIPSHIT,” and smacking Near over the head with a stale cafeteria breadstick.
In high school, Matt decided to scientifically test his theory that a particular teacher never paid attention to him by seeing how many pencils he could get to stick point-first in the ceiling before she noticed. It took her two days and nearly thirty pencils to catch on.
On a Spanish class trip to Barcelona, several students got off a stop too early on the subway and wound up in a red light district. Mello somehow managed to offend a prostitute he tried to ask for directions, and the whole group was chased for several blocks by angry, screaming women. Mello was never allowed to live it down.
In literature class, the students were given a list of novels and allowed to choose which one they wanted to read. Mello chose Moby Dick because he assumed no one else would, and he wanted to show off. Near chose Moby Dick because it would piss off Mello. Matt chose Moby Dick just to watch the Near/Mello shit go down.
On a similar note, Mello spent weeks bragging about how perfect he was for a part in the Wammy’s House annual musical and telling everyone else not to even bother auditioning. Near, who hated musicals, auditioned for the same part just to piss Mello off–and got it.
One day, Roger had a mixup and forgot to hire a substitute for the history teacher. Upon realizing they’d been left to their own devices, Mello and several other students began gleefully writing nasty messages about the teacher on the whiteboard–only to discover when they tried to erase them that the marker they’d been using was actually a Sharpie. Mello spent the last five minutes of class frantically scrubbing the board with soap and water and yelling at Matt to stop laughing his ass off and help.
okay so i’m writing after 6 months. literally. be kind to me, please <3
this is for the cs au week ofc for beloved tropes of…friends to lovers!
thanks a million to @high-seas-swan for listening to me babble about this fic and helping me figure out an ending.
hope you guys like it <3
Rating: M - well kind of
It’s a Thursday when Killian realizes he’s
in love with his best friend. Well, has been in love with her for a bloody long
time and knows she feels the same way
He’s always known that he fancies her –
when she rolls her eyes at him, when she tells him how she tracked down a sleaze
ball while using such colorful curses which would put pirates to shame, when
she tries to hide her tears during Lion
King and kicks him when he cocks a teasing eyebrow at her.
Hell, even when she shows up at his door at
3 a.m. in her pajamas, a bottle of rum in one hand, and tears streaming down
her face. The lost girl inside her catching up to her as she sobs in his arms,
not caring that her tears and snot is sticking to his shirt.
He fancies her.
(Even when she’s yelling at him.)
He’s in a hospital when he decides to
finally tell her.
Killian tries to sit up but winces, a voice
tsking at him before it speaks, “Your ankle is sprained.”
“Bloody hell” he rubs his hand over his
face. He hates hospitals - there’s just a smell to them which makes him want to
leave and never come back. He’s taken to see a specialist at a high-end clinic
instead of coming to the hospital for his hand. Seems like the hospital got
upset and took revenge on him.
He knows he’ll never hear the end of this
from Emma, David, and Robin, and never hear the end of Regina, his half-sister,
snarking at him for this stupid accident. Emma will probably never let him
drive his bike anymore.
Damn that dog and damn that old man. For a
second there, lying on the ground after being hit by a car and bumping his head
on the tree in front of him, he thought he was going to die. Interestingly, just
before he hit the ground, his life flashed before his eyes.
(He always was such a drama queen.)
The last thing he saw before he passed out
was her face, a wide smile making her nose scrunch in the adorable way, and his
last thought was of regret. Regret of not ever telling her.
The nurse winks at Killian as she slides in
some extra jello containers to him.
“Your discharge papers should be ready
anytime soon, Mr. Jones” she informs him, forming her lips into a pout,
“Coincidently, my shift also ends then.”
Killian smirks. He’s no stranger to women
finding him attractive and flirting with him. Normally, he would put on his stupid smoldering look (as Emma calls
it) and make some innuendo asking the nurse out, but poor timing on her part.
He’s only looking for one woman –
– who barges the door open. Her eyes are
wide and red, the tear tracks still evident on her face; her breathing erratic.
He doesn’t even get a chance to say
something before she’s hugging him, her hands digging into his back, and her
face buried in the crook of his neck. He bites back his wince at the force of
her hug, and instead brings his arms around hers, burying his face in her
“Oh shit sorry, I’m probably hurting you”
she sniffles, separating from him but keeping her hands on his shoulders as she
sits on the side of the bed.
“That’s alright, Swan” he smiles, brushing
her tears away with his thumb.
ESTP: Happy Birthday INTJ INTJ: Oh thanks ESTP but it’s not my birthd- ESTP: *hands a cube of dried glue* INTJ: What… what is this? ESTP: It’s for you *smiles* INTJ: You made me a… a cube of glue? ESTP: Yes, a glue cube INTJ: Why? What is it? ESTP: I told you, a glue cube INTJ: …but what do I do with it? Isn’t this just a big waste of our glue supply? ESTP: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯