#im like. way too invested in hairspray

[bunny-grunt]

I like to think of the different versions of Tracy Turnblad as just fuckign au versions. The 2007 version of Mama I’m a Big Girl Now is just fucking Into The Tracyverse

[timothy-chamlet]

the afterparty - t.c. fanfic

pair: timmy x female reader

warnings: unprotected sex, general smut

word count: 2.6k (2640)

a//n: ok er ive never written for timmy before so im nervous snsvsj but if you read it tell me what u think !! <3

°•○●○•°

people often thought the two of you were dating. paparazzi tended to make it look that way through press. despite all the candid photos of you and timothée plastered in magazine spreads and floating around on blogs, he would tell people you weren't together. interviewers would ask, and time again he would put an end to the rumor by saying you weren't dating, you were just friends. 

to be fair, you honestly couldn't even be mad at him. it was a good marketing tactic, at least. if all the girls knew he was single they'd still be invested in the persona of a young, attractive starlet that - despite his more than desirable qualities - is still single. genius. meanwhile you were being his best friend and his trophy for award shows. 

it was growing on you though. you enjoyed walking red carpet events and going to extravagant parties and meeting big names in the industry. it was really a win-win for both of you. 

another one of those win-win situations was tonight. the past three days had been crazy. hair appointments, nail appointments, dress fittings, photoshoots, brunches, and dinners. running each new day on an hour of sleep - maybe two if you were lucky. fueled by energy drinks and the promise of rest after the event. showing up to an awards ceremony on nothing more than a 20 minute nap and a double shot espresso. being timothée's showpiece was exhausting. but it was good for you. 

you had just finished your last consultation for dress fittings and were on your way to your styling appointment. the dress would arrive shortly after you so everything was ready to go. things were set for timothée to meet you there in an hour or so, after his own styling. 

currently you're getting your makeup done. a swarm of professionals all around you, handing products, giving directions, telling you how gorgeous you look, at least three hands on you at all times. after almost an hour all the disembodied hands move from your face to reveal the *almost* finished product. you still need your hair done, but your face was flawless. your skin was insanely smooth; not a pore in sight, your lids were a bronze shade, and your lips were a perfect nude. 

a hair stylist soon steps into view, also admiring your makeup before diving into your hair. it was simple. a slicked back ponytail is all, careful not to draw away from your face and your dress. 

the strong aroma of hairspray clouds you as you maneuver to step into your dress. stripped of your previous clothes, you step into your dress and a couple people help you pull it up. the woman attending to the supper in the back steps away for a moment, seeming to answer a question. 

"what's his name?" she asks into her ear piece. "uh yes. she's in here with me. send him in."  

she returns behind you and does up the zipper to your dress. to your surprise, you see timothée waltz in the room. dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a light lavender button up underneath. "y/n," he exhales, walking towards you. "you look breathtaking, ma chérie." 

"you don't look too bad yourself, timmy," you say, stepping down from your pedestal to be almost eye level with him.

"is she done here?" he asks everyone around without taking his eyes off you. 

one of the women there swoops in with a pair of shoes and says, "slip in to these and you're ready to go, darling." 

you step into your shoes and link arms with timothée. "carriage awaits," he says as the two of you get escorted to the limo. 

once inside you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. "you okay?" he asks from beside you. 

"yeah, just.. tired." 

he chuckles and drops his head. "absolutely exhausted." you two had similarly scheduled days so he knows exactly how you feel. "don't worry, mon amour, i'll have you home in about 8 hours." 

"i thought the awards show was only 4-" 

"there's always the afterparty.." 

you audibly groan and drop your head as timothée places a reassuring hand on your knee. 

"we're here," he says with fake enthusiasm as the limo pulls up to the event. the past 45 minutes felt like hours as your head began to pound from the lack of sleep. yet, lucky you, 45 minutes in l.a. traffic was a miracle. 

the two of you step out into the scene. flashing lights from camera flickers, the general buzz of the crowd, people you knew trying to get your attention, people timothée knew trying to get his attention. being the kind person he is, he doesn't shy away from fans calling his name. he walks over to give high fives, say hi, sign things, and really interact with the people that are so invested in his career. you look at him with a fond smile on your face as he greets  people.  

"timothéeeee," you both hear and turn around to match the loud booming voice to a face. 

"armieee!!" he yells in response, hurrying over to hug his co-star. 

you stand idly by as the two hug and catch up. fiddling with your ponytail and the skirt of your dress. until that same voice catches your attention. 

"bring it in hot stuff!" 

"hey, armie! how've you been, handsome?" you two had only met a handful of times, but it's like your souls clicked instantly. he had kept in touch since the first time you met and you guys had been pretty close ever since. 

"oh i’m doing great. really. just excited for this evening. can't wait to see how many awards lil' tim brings in," armie ends with a light laugh before timothée chimes in. 

"oh god no-" 

a cheery voice interrupts the conversation. 

"helloooo," armie's wife says in a sing-song voice and joins his side. "nice to see you again, y/n. and congrats timmy on your nominations." 

you and timothée nod in response and utter small, nervous 'thank you's' before armie excuses the two of them, promising to catch up later. 

"well, well, well- this is it, timmy." you say from your seat next to him. the host reads the nominees for best breakthrough of the year, and timothée's name is mixed in with so many other talented actors. he nervously puts his hand over yours. "you are absolutely amazing. everyone knows that. you're gonna get it." he looks at you and you pass him a reassuring smile. 

"and the award for best breakthrough goes to… timothée chalamet!" 

his head shoots up in shock. cameras pan around him and his baffled expression appears on huge screens behind the stage. he slowly stands from his seat and makes his way to the stage. making a beautiful speech, thanking almost everyone he's ever known. giving gratitude to everyone he's ever worked with, his parents, and his best friends. he comes off the stage and returns to his seat beside you. a year runs down his cheek, and you move to wipe it away, but he grabs your hand away from his cheek only to press his lips to your knuckles. "thank you for always believing in me." 

"you're an amazing actor and an even better friend. 

the night was nearing an end. people were saying their goodbyes and their 'see-you-soon's and going their separate ways. you and timothée walk out of the event, arms linked, with his hands tightly gripping his award. the smile never leaves his face. "i can't fucking believe that, y/n."

"you did it, timmy! all you and your hard work. lemme pick a nice spot on your shelf for it yeah?" 

"i was thinking about sitting it on my dresser right above the drawer full of your shit you keep leaving at my house," he says with a barely visible smirk. 

"oh, well if it's such a problem," you begin "i guess I'll just have to come get my 'shit' then?" you finish sarcastically. 

"oh! how dare you?" he begins to shout, going on a tirade similar to that of hamlet; overly dramatic and mostly nonsensical. "leave them be! small, small remnants; reminders of thee." he trails off softly, dropping his head to your shoulder and bringing his other hand up to trail his fingertips down the side of your face. 

you can't help but chuckle at this. "bravo timothée! amazing performance." 

he straightens up before taking a bow and returning to his previous position on your shoulder. "do you wanna skip the afterparty?" 

"and do what, tim? i thought you were gonna catch up with armie?" 

"i dunno- go to my place?" 

you nod your head, and timothée let's the driver know to just go to his house. 

you get out of the car in front of his apartment, quickly thank the driver, and dash inside; excited to remove the day. "can i shower?" you ask quickly already making your way upstairs.

"oui, mon trèsor, make yourself at home. ill be up in a while." it was almost as if he had it scripted. a routine more or less. you'd ask to shower - despite him telling you almost each time you never had to ask - and go up stairs to do so; him trailing along about an hour later behind you. 

you finish your shower earlier than planned so you decide to lay on his bed until he comes up. you let your freshly washed body relish in the textures of the cotton t-shirt and shorts you're wearing and the damp-cool feel of the comforter on his bed. 

you're not left alone for long before he darts up the stairs and into his room, catching your attention. you watch as he walks around, dropping various articles of his clothing haphazardly on his floor. left in only his boxers. 

"timmy?" you ask in a drawn out voice. 

"hm?" he asks lowly in response; his eyes trained on you. you don't respond to his muffled question and instead watch as he comes to lean over the foot of the bed, by your legs. "i've been thinking," he continues, "a lot recently. about us.." 

"us?-" 

"about what the media thinks we are. what the people say. the blog posts, the tweets. i read it all… what do you think about it, y/n?" he ends with a light sigh, making drawing light swirls on your leg. 

"i dunno really. i've never thought much about it," you say sitting up. 

he moves up from his place in front of the bed, crawling up to sit to the right of your legs. knees drawn up to his chest, eyes meeting yours. he raises his hand so his fingertips ghost the curve of your cheek. "you never think about.. the possibility of us?" he pauses as his eyes drift from yours. hands falling to his lap as he scoots even closer to you. you sit stunned, not knowing how to answer as if it was some rhetoric instead of a simple question. filling the silence, he continues. "i think about how different things would be if we were together. what it would be like to hold you and kiss you and- can i kiss you?" 

his voice wavers as his eyes meet yours yet again. with quick movements, he moves to straddle your legs, both hands resting lightly on either side of your face. 

"can i kiss you?" he asks again, his face millimeters from yours. 

you shake your head yes as your eyes fluttering closed, your lips brushing against his as you move. 

he plants his lips firmly on yours. innocent at first, but the kiss quickly gets deeper. more desperate, his hands moving from the sides of your face to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back giving him access to your neck. his lips dance around the skin of your neck, being careful not to leave any marks. “is this okay?” he whispers, dragging his hands from your hair to the hem of your shirt. 

you nod your head vigorously and he pulls your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the floor with his clothes. you lean back and give timothee free reign of your chest and stomach. he makes his way from your neck down and across your chest. your hands rush to knot in his hair as he takes a nipple in his mouth, carefully flicking his tongue across the hardening bud before doing the same to the other. 

"timmy.." you breathe out as he leaves your chest and explores lower. his eyes meet yours as his teeth come into contact with the flimsy waistband of your sleep shorts. "please," you whisper. 

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs; eyes going wide when he sees you have nothing underneath. 

"so pretty," he whispers almost to himself as he throws your shorts in his floor with the rest of your guys' clothes. he runs his finger along your slit, collecting some of your wetness, tasting it. laying back down with your legs over his shoulders, he hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. he runs his tongue along your folds and you arch your back in response. he sucks on your clit making you squirm and tangle your fingers tighter in his hair, pushing against his face, eager for more. 

"tim-... timmy," you beg.

timothée kisses his way back up your body. "hm?" he hums softly beside your ear only for you to utter another weak 'please' in response. 

"please… please what, mon amour?" 

"baise moi.." you didn't know much french. you had picked up on a few of timothée's most used phrases, but this you hadn't learned from him, so it caught him off-guard. stuck in a moment of shock. hearing you say something so dirty in french felt so strangely intimate; you didn't have to ask him twice. 

he slips his boxers, finally accompanying you in nakedness, and slips into you, moaning at the feeling of you around him. 

"fuck.. timmy-" you groan as he picks up his pace. he coos sweet nothings into your ear while drilling into your core. 

his head drops to your chest and the soft, sweet praises slowly turn into obscenities. "merde," he groans, picking up his pace even more. holding himself at arms length above you, he throws his head back; lips parted in pure bliss. 

you lift one of your hands to trail down timothée's torso. you lazily drag your fingertips across his chest and down to his stomach. the pleasure building inside you, your hand finds its way to your clit. “timmy... fuck! ple- please don’t stop. fuuuuuck!” 

“défaire pour moi, y/n.” you didn’t think french could ever drive you to orgasm, but when it came from timothé anything was possible. you convulse around him as your wave of pleasure washes over you. timothée reaching his own peak soon after, pulling out and emptying on your stomach. he quickly finds something to clean you up with before plopping down on the bed beside you. many silent moments pass - nothing but heavy breaths leaving either of you - before he speaks up. “you know,” he begins in a soft whisper, “i felt bad- like i was using you. just to go to events with me. i know you don’t really like them but-” 

you cut him off and turn to face him. “i might hate going to those award shows, but they’re a little less bad with you around.” 

he breaks into a wide smile and pulls you closer, putting his head on your stomach. "mon amour, je t'ai toujours aimé." you reach down to play with his curls and begin to drift off on your way to sleep. 

[frienderbender]

hey frienderbender is it ok to ask for some lore/information on your magpickles 🥺 I’m very invested in those goods ( off the topic but can I just say I am in LOVE with the way you draw Skwisgaar my heart is just fluttering to fast when I see him 🥺💞 Anyways muah you’re wonderful artist thank you have a lovely day/evening )

oh sure! first off thank you so much for the sweet message! that made my night :'] i love drawing skwisgaar and im glad you like how he looks in my style haha

anyways im assuming youre talking about my general lore for them in the canon timeline, so ill talk about that under the cut

i think they first met some time in the late 80s while pickles was still with snb. they met after a show specifically. magnus introduced himself as a fan, and that was true! but (quick tangent for some general mag thoughts) it brings up something that ive always thought about when i look at mag. magnus definitely gives off the vibe of being the guy who was always just Around in the music scene, especially in the rock and metal scene of this era. like, hes a mysterious dude but he has connections. he will play with random bands sometimes. he knows so many fucking people in this industry (not saying hes friends with all of them though); what im trying to say is. Everyone Has A Magnus Hammersmith Story. hes the type of guy that gets talked about in podcasts decades down the line. ok all that to say he was able to get backstage because he just Knows People. and he introduces himself as a fan blah blah pickles and magnus drink and do some drugs and honestly i wouldnt be surprised if they at the very least made out with each other the first night they met.

so pickles is like, pretty into him right off the bat. magnus was too, but i think on his end INITIALLY he was more just interested in hooking up but they exchange info and keep in touch and all that. so. this is RIGHT before snb implodes. and theyre still meeting up fairly regularly and becoming closer and doing a lot of drugs and drinking a bunch. typical rockstar stuff.

but pickles had been on a steady downward spiral at this point (he was already like this before he met magnus), and in one night snb is no more. having burned all those bridges in his band (for now), pickles turns to his only friend left: magnus. and i think its at this point, when pickles comes to him, wrecked by the dissolution of his band, that magnus kinda starts to realize he might actually feel something for him too? seeing him like this, seeing pickles from fucking snakes n barrels, so raw and real and not at all like the fiery redhead he met that night after their show...it just feels different somehow. like yeah he was attracted to pickles from snakes n barrels, but he realized he had grown to care about pickles from tomahawk wisconsin. he liked that one better, there was no bullshit. no hiding beneath layers of glam makeup and hairspray.

so its the two of them against the world. its the early 90s at this point. on a whim, pickles decides they should leave LA and just drive. wherever. just away from the city because LA fucking sucks. he takes all his money and he and magnus get in his car and just start driving. they end up in florida eventually, because its the other side of the country. or something. they get an apartment, and for a couple of months they live together and its. kinda nice. its different, for sure. but not bad. magnus and pickles both always kinda skirted around the topic of their relationship. they never called the other their boyfriend. but i feel strongly that they did tell each other that they loved the other, once. and they meant it.

so heres where things get tricky for me. how did dethklok form? what was the order? who met who first? i dont know!! i wish i knew! its something i have a million scenarios for and i wish we got a canon order of the members joining at the very least so i can model my headcanons around it haha

with that in mind though, i do think magnus and pickles were a bit of a package deal. like, whoever joined first was able to get the other in. so. yeah. they joined dethklok some time in the early to mid 90s now.

they have a pretty decent few years. theyre still.......something....even in their new band. like they arent open about it and hook up when the other guys arent around and all that.

its around this time though that i think magnus is really starting to go through it. combination of feeling frustrated because of the bands status at this point, general untreated mental health, etc. anyways i think the stabbing incident occurred some time in the mid 90s, probably like '95 or '96 or something. so.....he gets kicked out. obviously. and those are the terms they end on for awhile.........

but uh. you see. pickles never completely cut ties with the dude because. well. what do you do when this happens to someone you care so deeply about. and i think probably a month or so later, magnus actually contacts him for the first time since the stabbing incident. and maybe i have a comic script and thumbnails about this encounter what about it. magnus tells him he wants to see him, so pickles slips out that night to meet up at an old bar they used to go to a lot. may or may not be the depths of humanity uhhh anyway. theyre talking for awhile but it just kinda devolves into honestly more one-sided arguing on pickles end. hes frustrated and sad and confused because fuck! magnus! why would you do that? why, when the bands just starting to take off? it becomes this whole like. you arent the same guy i knew. and in that moment it quietly hits them both that like. we arent who we were, and we dont know what to do about that. magnus asks if pickles would want to join him and leave the band, and pickles tells him to go fuck himself. and thats the last thing he ever said to him.

and thats where the magpickles lore/relationship timeline ends. i realize it really did kinda turn into a timeline but also i did write a timeline during a slow day at work once like two months ago but. anyways. this is basically that.

but uh. yes. i love them. they make me sad but in a good way yknow. its like. its one of those situations where i feel like under different circumstances, they probably couldve made it work in their own weird way. they have such a specific dynamic, whether in their background together in the canon timeline or just me fucking around with AUs and being like hmm what if i actually gave them a scenario where they could have the time to develop AS an actual couple. im rambling but i just love these two so much. this is so long.

i feel strongly they wouldnt get back together in any sort of canon capacity, but i do think they still have feelings for each other in that way you do when you remember people you loved in the past. old friendships that dissolved with no resolution. the person you still have things you want to tell them, even though you know you will never get the chance.

[samwinchesterism]

honestly did jared get a new hair stylist for season 15 and if so were they a person who had ever been employed before in their life at all. did they have any qualifications whatsoever. because my only qualifications are 1) person with chronically long hair who has had to style it on occasion for life purposes and 2) person who has been invested in sam winchester for 14 seasons and i genuinely think i could do a better job than whatever that was. did this person hate men with long hair and want to punish them. did they have another vendetta. did the original one quit and they were like whatever only 15 episodes left let’s just let a 6 year old do this. is there is a conspiracy here. did they already know they had a bad wig for sam in the finale and were like well we have to make the hair bad too so it’s less jarring. they REALLY were like hey so the story in season 15 is going to be absolute dogshit, but we will not let you check out of it and just look at sam’s hair like you normally do when spn is dogshit because we will ruin that and everything you love before the end of this. 

like. how do you look at 14 seasons of soft, moveable, shiny hair and give sam weirdly hairsprayed, pushed back helmet hair. jared is an attractive man but he does have a bit of a forehead and u gotta work with that forehead not against it and this is why if sam doesn’t actively have bangs (like early seasons or even the curtain-y bangs of s12) then his hair is typically parted slightly to the side (which tends to be better for bigger foreheads if no bangs) and his hair is not usually pushed back, just out of his face (see most of s4/5-s11). in s13-14 he did have a middle part with long bangs usually pushed out of the way, but he did still have those bangs that came loose every so often, and at least the cardinal rule of Soft and Shiny was adhered to. yeah it wasn’t always the best hairstyle (s10 im looking at u) but it was never this bad. and yeah jared’s hairline might have moved back some over the years but the thing you DON’T do when that happens is push all his hair up and back out of his face with hairspray to make everybody notice. if i do that to myself even my hairline starts to look sketchy and im a 23 year old with no hair loss issues whatsoever. i genuinely think whoever styled him was either incompetent or mean bc when it comes loose in the show in s15, the cut itself looks decent (not the best one sam has had but not BAD) and if you look at jared pics from the s15 shooting timeframe and also now, his hair is just fine. i just want to fight someone about this. all they had to do was follow the long-established cardinal rules of Sam Winchester Hair and take him over the finish line and they simply decided No. i can’t stop thinking about this and it’s been weeks.

[sleepy-peachie]

Paris Day 3:  Pro-tip if you wanna see the catacombs book that like 3 months in advance and show up at like 9 am

This morning we woke up around 9 again and walked outside and found a flea market which was pretty cool since we couldn’t go to the one on Saturday.  There was nothing very cool there though but we didn’t linger long at any tables since the sales folks get pretty pushy if show any interest and it was mostly yardsale garbage.  We walked a little bit looking for a cafe for breakfast and the first place we looked at had coffee for 10 euro so we peaced out of there real fast and went across the street to le lithographie which actually looked pretty fancy but was a little more reasonable. I ended up getting a mint tea and croissant and ariel got a fruit salad and coffee.  This croissant was the best bread i’ve ever eaten i’ll never be able to eat the crescent rolls mom buys again and my tea came with a little kettle full of hot water and it was adorable. We got a seat outside again but under the awning so we could get the sun off of us since it was already getting pretty hot.  It was so nice to sip tea outside so early in the morning and just watch everyone around us.  Our waiter was really nice and spoke english and laughed when we still said “oui” instead of yes.  There was also an old woman getting her hair and makeup done at the table right next to us?? like she had a makeup artist/hairstylist putting her hair in a french twist with hairspray and everything and was taking up tables with the cosmetics all spread out.  It was odd but at the same time i strive to be that woman.  

We walked on to find the catacombs and walked past the montparnarsse cemetery and it was gorgeous.  We walked inside for a little bit just to see the little tombstone/house things.  All the graves were beautiful but we didn’t stay long since our feet were still sore from Saturday’s excursion so we walked on to the catacombs.  We could see two different spots where crowds were fro the catacombs so we walked to where there were signs and asked the man where we could buy tickets and at first he asked for our tickets an we said no where do we buy them and he said “the internet is closed” and we could buy them there so we walked away confused and listened for english from the people in line and asked a random family and tehy said you have to wait in line then buy tickets so were like oh okay cool and walk on to find the end of the line.  and then we turn a corner and are still looking for the end of the line and then we turn another corner still no end. until finally we end up at the original crowd we saw.   This line wrapped around a whole garden area and building.  We decided since it was somethign we were both really looking forward too we would wait we figured it would be 2 hours.  The line grew pretty fast behind us so at least we weren’t those people.  Then it had been an hour and we hadn’t turned the corner yet but we’d already invested one hour.  Then it had been 2 hours and we said okay were too invested to quit but maybe we should and by this point we were out of the shade and in the 90 degree sun and my feet were on fire.  Then it had been 2.5 hours and we started talking to the family in front of us and they said maybe another hour so we decided to keep waiting and we heard people behind us say it could take 6 hours some days and some parisians said the line was always this long and that it’s always just tourists.  We started talking to the people around us though and the guy in front of us was from Colorado and was getting ready to start college.  Him and his parents had rented a car and were driving around europe after a wedding for ~two weeks and were leaving for home the next day.  We also started talking to the group in front of them who were a bunch of study abroad students that had just happened to meet in a hostile that weekend. ONe girl was from the same town in Utah that Ariel’s family lives and it was crazy.  This town is so small and they didn’t recognize anybody either of them knew but it was still pretty cool.  There were two other students from Japan also just traveling. I kept on talking to the colorado guy and he was pretty cool.  His parents took it as an excuse to leave him holding the spot in line so they could get out of the sun.  we ended up being in line a total of 4 hours and the last 2 hours we spent talking to strangers and it was really cool and honestly made it worth it.  We all cheered when we finally got to the front of teh line and took selfies and ended up talking while walking through the catacombs too.  We got to the catacombs half hour after they opened at 10:30 and didn’t get in until after 2:30.  lesson learned there

The catacombs themselves were really cool and it felt soooooo nice to get out of the sun.  Some of the bones were growing moss from the lights and some were sparkly and its so strange to think all those skulls had faces and all those faces had lives and stories and names.  There were an estimated 2 million parisians in there moved from teh old cemeteries.  I ended up buying a patch from the giftshop and its probs my favorite souvenir so far. I wish my feet hadn’t hurt so bad or we’d have walked a little slower through the tunnels but honestly wanted to cry they hurt so bad. Also added that guy on fb and he talked to me for a couple days afterward over messenger.  He’s definitely enjoyable to talk to but it’s a bit strange since he’s only just graduated high school and lives in colorado so i dont know what the intentions were there but whatevs.

After the tunnels we started looking for bubble tea.  We wanted to try it the day before but we only saw it after we had just eaten so we didn’t want to buy any, but boy were we thirsty after standing in the sun for 4 hours again in 90 degree weather.  We walked awhile and ariel had a picture of a map pulled up so we were trying to find it, i couldn’t find it on the maps app so we were just hoping for the best.  We finally found it though and it was like a mirage.  The room was air conditioned to boot so we just died a little inside it was so nice. AND TEH TEA was so good, i got peach tea and the bobas were actually good.  I expected them to taste like chalk but it was actually like sweet jello and i loved them.  I liked it so much i ended up ordering a second one to drink while we walked, this time i got “jade” which had jasmine tea and kiwi, it wasn’t as good but i still enjoyed it.  Also this little Bubble T Paris had the best wifi we’ve experienced in all of France.  

At this point it was about 4 o’clock so we started looking for somewhere to eat supper, we figured creperies would be our only option and we knew there were some near our hotel so we walked that way and stopped at a small place on the street.  The guy serving us was really nice and he understood Ariel’s gluten allergy so we stayed, but the crepes were not great.  Kind of gross actually, i got chicken and cheese and it was a no go. We went back to our hotel after that and used the wifi and bathroom while we waited until ~6 to go to our trainstation.  

The trainstation was crazy as usual but we found the rolled ice cream stand miraculously and with ease.  We have very good luck with directions and finding things this whole trip and rolled ice cream is as good as it looks. I got apricot mint with pralines on top and 10/10 delicieux.  We found place to sit and were eating it when i felt eyes on me so i looked to my left and on the bench next to use 2 older men were clearly talking about me or us and i even made eyecontact and the older man who was closer to me maintained eye contact and continued nodding while listening to what the other man was presumably saying about me.  I was very uncomfortable and im imaging Taken scenarios.  Then they say excuse me, excusez moi and I answer and the younger guy asks where were from because they were discussing my accent and wondered if we were Englisha nd were surprised to hear we were American.  Then they asked why we were here and i was like “in Paris??’ like what kind of question is that.  I dont remember what i sadi but they asked if we liked it and i said yes and ended the conversation.  Then we left and waited on our train.  

They waited until the last minute to put the gate on the board but as soon as they did we fast walked for it since we were in car 16.  It was a forever walk but we got there we successfully found our train and could just relax for three hours.  This train ride felt much longer than when we were going to paris.  We could see the releif on sebastien’s face when we got out the train car though.  They gave us the morning off from the lab since they had meetings and we were exhausted, which was a huge blessing ‘cause i have never been so groggy in my life.  When we got back to the crous the wifi was out and it was around 11:30 so i went ahead and colled home to them i made it back safe, conveniently dad answered so i was able to wish him a happy fathers day and i told him all about paris for awhile.  i usually talk to mom so it was strange to talk to dad on the phone that long but it was nice.  When Pascal and sebastien  saw us the next day after lunch they were like “We couldn’t sleep all weekend! Were in charge of you!” I was so out of it though, i could hardly focus and i jsut felt so strange.  I had slept 11 hours and taken a benadryl to help get to sleep that night so that could be why or it actually was a result of walking 26 miles in one weekend and standing in the sun for 4 hours in addition to that.  My feet hurt until Wednesday.