#french bar

[devlishstudios]

Le Libertin.

🇨🇵 Style parisien vintage.

🇬🇧 Vintage Parisian style.

🇪🇸 Estilo parisino vintage.

🇮🇹 Stile parigino vintage.

🇵🇹 Estilo parisiense vintage.

🇯🇵 パリのヴィンテージスタイル。

🇮🇳 विंटेज पेरिस शैली।

#libertin #lelibertin #paris #parís #parisbar #chic #wine #winelovers #villedeparis #absinthefairy #absinthe #dailyart#parisianstyle #parisian #parisianlifestyle #undone #chicdecontracté #decontracte #décontracté #effortlesschic#effortlessstyle #province #provincestyle #carefree #enjoylife #parisvibes #parisfashion #parisfrance #parisstyle #parisian #parisianstyle #vintagestyle #comicnoir #parisienne #parisiennestyle #parisiennegirl          

[exo-plushie]

Dining Room Kitchen Dining Kitchen/dining room combo - large transitional light wood floor and shiplap ceiling kitchen/dining room combo idea with white walls

[etherealarte]

[itspeanutlove]

HE'S FRENCH!?!?

[fullcravings]

Lemon Bar Macarons

[vintagehomecollection]

Interior Visions: Great American Designers and the Showcase House, 1988

[raisin-gran]

asked my partner to name all the barricade boys, and this is what they got:

grantaire

esteban

crrch

cork

marius

jean valjean

jean? (correct!)

bosco

oh no….

fachance

jean, again

[alwayschoppedtaco]

hate is a strong word, don’t you think ll m.v.

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader

warnings: some angst? not super angsty, mentions of a crash on the track-no one is hurt- (mercedes v red bull), mentions of alcohol and partying, google translate dutch and french (in this, you can speak french) it’s mostly just fluff

summary: you’ve never gotten along with max, but that can all change after an action filled day leads to some late night conversation

word count: 1.0k

my masterlist

“What a fucking idiot!” the crackle of the team radio comes right after you hit the barriers, informing the team that you are both okay and angry. “He knows that he should have left space, what a sore loser!”

The anger doesn’t subside on your walk back to the Mercedes garage after you brush off the marshals who direct you to the medical area, instead it is left to bubble up in your stomach, thoughts of the podium and just how close you were to it acting as a catalyst for your rage.

Your anger doesn’t pass as you watch the blundering idiot who caused your little crash cross the finish line with enough of a lead that his five second penalty does absolutely nothing. Instead, it is left once again to fester inside you as you go through the motions of post-race media duties, trying to patiently answer all of the clearly baited questions in a professional way.

It doesn’t dissipate as you change out of your sweaty race suit, slipping into a clean pair of pants and a shirt that is branded with the Mercedes logo. It only slightly lessens as you look at your teammate and his second place trophy, deciding to be happy for him and the team.

That’s the reason you don’t say no to Lewis when he invites you to an after party with the team to celebrate the first podium of the season and all the hard work put into this weekend.

You’re already three drinks in by the time Max strolls in, Daniel and Checo coming in with him. You have to physically restrain the urge to roll your eyes as you watch the Red Bull drivers walk in, downing your drink and motioning for another.

Max makes eye contact with you as you get your drink, a smirk making its way onto his lips. Your eyes narrow at him, turning your back to him as anger floods in again.

It takes everything in you not to walk over and do something you would regret, instead moving away from the bar and over to where your team is situated. Lewis motions for you to sit next to him at the table, some of the team members making way for you to sit there.

You only reason you got up from the booth where you were sat was to grab another drink. Excusing yourself, you make your way towards the bar.

“I will have an-” your interrupted before you can finish your sentence.

“daar is ze!” Max stumbles over to you, his drunken Dutch words not making sense to you. “Ik was je aan het zoeken!” there you are! I have been looking for you!

You scoff at his words, automatically assuming he was poking fun at you in his native tongue.

“Max, just leave me alone.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, heading back over to the Mercedes table. Max is left alone at the bar, watching your retreating figure.

The rest of the night passes you by in a blur. Flashing lights and the deep reverb of the bass, along with the multitude of drinks, prompting you to pull Lewis onto the dance floor. Your hips sway to the music, letting your thoughts of the podium and incident leave your head, instead focusing on whatever terrible remix of Lady Gaga is playing.

You feel his eyes burning into you as you sway to the music, locking eyes with him. His blue eyes stare into your own, not breaking eye contact as he makes his way over to you.

“Y/N!” Max starts, yelling over the loud music. “ik wilde zeggen dat het me spijt” I wanted to say I’m sorry

“Max!” You are more open to conversation with him now that you have significantly more alcohol in your system. “I can’t understand Dutch!”

 The laugh that leaves your mouth has Max hooked. The both of you drunkenly stumble out of the club in hopes of having a real conversation, the loud music still audible outside.

“I said that I am sorry, Y/N!” Max is still shouting, causing you to giggle louder and place your finger on his lips with an overexaggerated “shhh”

“No need to shout, Maximilian.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Its close enough.” Your drunken giggles continue as you talk, forcing the mumbled words out through your laughs. “Why did you not leave any room?”

“I didn’t mean to ruin your race, Y/N.” The way he says your name has you sobering up a bit, and the intense way he looks at you has you forgetting why you were ever mad at him.

“Oh mon dieu, pourquoi as-tu besoin d'avoir de si beaux yeux?” Its your turn to say something he doesn’t understand, the French going completely over his head. Oh god, why do you have to have such pretty eyes?

“What was that?”

“I said that you have really nice eyes that need to stop looking at me like that!” He is speechless after you admit it, letting a tense silence blanket the two of you.

He slowly reaches out towards you, one hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“You have really nice eyes too.” The admission from him paired with his hands on your face have you forgetting everything about the race, the only thing on your mind being the man in front of you.

“Max.” His name rolls off your tongue, a silent dare for him to do something.

He takes the dare, his other hand coming to cup your neck as he leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. He finally connects your lips together, the taste of gin lingering on his mouth. Your thoughts are drowned out by Max, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck pulling him closer as you continue to kiss, cliché butterflies erupting in your stomach.

You only pull away when you need air, moving away from Max but still keeping eye contact.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.” The words catch you by surprise, never knowing Max felt like that.

“I always thought you didn’t like me.”

“Never.”

~

[thunderstruck9]

Édouard Manet (French, 1832-1883), A Bar at the Folies-Bergère, 1882. Oil on canvas, 137.3 x 96 cm. The Courtauld Institute of Art, London

[1010neveragain]

happy woman day everyone i love women

[steph-photographie]

Photo originale par Steph-Photo

Ambiance parisienne (un jour de pluie ...)

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

i think one of the funniest and most iconic things Edwige Feuillère ever did (other than her saying in an interview she preferred theatre when she was attending the Cannes Film Festival) was dress in very loud sapphic-coded style for a photoshoot after her divorce from her ex-husband

[inspiredlivingspaces]

IG luxemagazine

[a-cat-in-a-funky-hat]

ok i need u to look me in the eye and take this seriously. i. love. soap bars. fuck liquid soap, fuck body wash i LOVE SOAP BARS. i cannot tell u where this weird obsession with soap came from in the first place but BOY. DO I LOVE SOAP BARS.

[aro-arttorneys]

consider a swap smp aa au where Miles is the pixl

HI I absolutely RAN to my ipad upon seeing this ask to make sure I had some sketches down. Ended up working out some coherent designs ehehe

Man I lowkey like these designs more than I had for the initial AU :') Also OUGH I think Phoenix getting so fucked up and sad that he ends it all is just...kind of neat actually.

[academic-vampire]

My life is falling into place (I bought a French press) ☕️