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sl-ut · 4 months

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new years eve

more college!abby

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PUBLISHED A WHILE AGO, BUT LIKE I MENTIONED BEFORE, A LOT OF SHIT CAME UP AND DIDN’T LET ME FINISH ANYTHING THAT I’VE BEEN WORKING ON. TYSM FOR YOUR PATIENCE, AND ENJOY!

also tysm to @princesssmars for giving me permission to steal her idea lol ily babe.

pairing: college!abby anderson x fem!reader

description: abby invites y/n on her friends’ annual new years ski trip! five days of uninterrupted fun at a private chalet with abby, her friends, her ex boyfriend, and his current girlfriend who seems to have some kind of vendetta against them both.

warnings: UNEDITED, smut (not a lot tbh), swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, owen is really mean to reader, homophobia, a lot of sweet little moments between abby and reader

words: 7.4K

date posted: 07/01/24

Y/n knew she wasn’t exactly the most welcome on this trip, they didn’t even try to hide it. The only exception to this would be, of course, Nora, who’d been the one to set her up with Abby in the first place, and Manny, who genuinely seemed like the only one who didn’t seem bothered by her presence at all times. Not wanting to impose on a seemingly very strict tradition, Y/n initially declined her girlfriend’s offer to spend New Years Eve together in Aspen, which didn’t go over as well with Abby as she had expected.

“They don’t mind, really.” She tried to reassure her, only to be met with a knowing look, “Okay, a few of them feel that we shouldn’t bring people outside of our friend group, but think about it; Owen and Mel are both going, Leah is bringing Jordan…” Then came the ultimatum of, “No, if you don’t go, I don’t go.”

The threat was more than what Abby’s words even said. The cabin belonged to Abby’s grandparents, and were more than enthusiastic about their sole grandchild using it with her friends over the holidays, but were stern with the condition that Abby was not to let them go up and destroy it. To summarise, if Abby didn’t go, nobody did, and Y/n was certain that her friends would hate her less if she joined them than if she caused the entire trip to be cancelled.

So there she was on the twenty-ninth of December, tightly belted into the front seat of Abby’s Bronco on the road to Aspen. The drive wasn’t terrible, only a few hours from Abby’s childhood home just outside of Salt Lake city, though Abby made it sort of enjoyable by making a road-trip playlist and barely taking her large hand away from her girlfriend’s thigh throughout the remainder of the journey.

The chalet was more than Y/n even had the ability to imagine. It looked like it was straight out of a movie; high ceilings, wooden panelling lining the entire interior, large windows looking out over a snow-covered valley, all that was missing was for the pair of them to snuggle up together in front of the wide stone fireplace, which was bound to happen at some point over the holiday. As she ran her fingertips over the glazed butcher block counters, she was thankful that the others wouldn’t be arriving until the next day, giving them more time to fulfil the fantasies that had been racing through her mind since setting foot inside the chalet.

Abby was eager to give the full tour, looking delightfully in-place in her tight jeans and cream coloured cable knit sweater. She left no room or corner alone, using little anecdotes and stories from her childhood to help her feel more at home, and finishing by explaining exactly how she would fuck her in each and every room. Y/n laughed and brushed it off in the moment, but came to realise that she was dead serious when she could barely move her legs to crawl out of bed the next morning.

The sweet bliss was finally interrupted by the rest of the crew making their arrivals. First came Leah and Jordan, who immediately rushed to the next biggest room and then made their way to the jacuzzi on the deck. Then came Manny and Nora, who couldn’t seem to get to the kitchen fast enough, before finally, Mel and Owen quietly made their way in, offering silent greetings to their friends before going straight to their bedroom, which didn’t seem to bode well with Mel, who’s complaints carried through the entire ventilation system of the house.

The others seemed to have no patience for their drama, all clearly picking up on the fact that they must have fought the entire drive, as well as the thick tension that filled the room whenever they were both present. Instead, they all gathered in the kitchen for a late lunch and began pouring drinks, loud laughter overwhelming the hushed argument escaping the vent. Y/n was a little surprised to see that even Abby had reached for a second beer, the merriment in the kitchen and the overall excitement for the holiday seeming more important to her in that moment than her otherwise strict fitness regimen, though she really didn’t mind. In fact, she sort of liked the way that she had been looser than she normally would have been, gliding her hands across Y/n’s body without care, laughing along carelessly to jokes that she normally would’ve only chuckled at. She was more open with the group, and made sure to keep Y/n involved in the conversation even when the others talked over top of her.

The atmosphere felt warm, like they were spending time with their closest family members. Manny showed off his mixology skills, which were mediocre at best, while Nora and Abby whipped up a luxurious rendition of pasta with a side salad, all of which seemed to disappear in a matter of minutes, leaving barely enough for both Mel and Owen to split between themselves once they finally re-emerged from their shared bedroom.

The sun was beginning to set early, thanks to the shorter days of winter, leaving poor Manny no other option but to wait until morning until he could finally hit the slopes. Instead, he found interest in offering constant refills to everyone in order to, as he put it, boost morale. Abby had taken the initiative to cut herself off, wanting to make sure she still had her wits about her while also being able to relax, and made sure to warn Y/n about Manny’s drinks.

“He calls himself a mixologist,” She’d whispered into her girlfriend’s ear, “But I’d say he’s more of a wizard. He makes drinks so strong, but somehow covers up the taste of the liquor.”

That was the first and final time that Y/n ignored a warning from Abby, soon enough finding herself stumbling out the door in just her bathing suit, ears completely deaf to everyone’s questions of concern for the nearly naked girl in the cold weather as she clambered into the jacuzzi. She grinned, watching as Abby followed closely behind her, along with Manny, Nora, and Leah.

She snuggled up against Abby’s side, relishing in the weight of her thick bicep around her shoulder as she only half-listened to whatever Nora was trying to fill her in on, and babbling on about some nonsense that no one really had much interest in hearing, but they all listened in and responded as if she were telling the most interesting tale to ever exist.

Once Leah and Nora took over the conversation, she turned to stare up at her girlfriend with glossy eyes, grinning stupidly at the mere sight of her face.

“What?” Abby laughed when she finally took notice.

Y/n shrugged, answering as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Nothing, just thinking about how much I love you.”

Abby’s already flushed cheeks darkened, but she was quick to press a longing kiss to her forehead and return the sentiment lovingly.

“No,” Y/n frowned, “You don’t understand, I love you. I love how smart you are, I love how you make me laugh, I love how you make me feel loved, I love how you make me feel.”

Abby glanced around at the others to ensure that they weren’t overhearing this intimate conversation. Thankfully, Manny was too wrapped up in making sure that Nora was correctly recounting the time that he successfully hooked up with his TA and bumped his grade up.

“I love your abs, and your big beefy arms.” Y/n continued, leaning her head back against the bulging muscle to emphasise her point, “I love your fingers, too. And of course I love your face, and your pretty eyes, and your nose–God I love your nose, I just wanna sit on it–”

All conversation seemed to stop as the patio door creaked open, all heads turning in surprise to see Owen standing in the doorway, swimming trunks hanging low on his hips and a towel slung over his shoulder.

“Room for one more?”

Manny was the first to break the silence, “Of course, man. We all thought you guys were just calling it for the night.”

The blond furrowed his brow, “What, you guys really thought you could replace me so easily?”

The words were so obviously aimed at his ex-girlfriend and the girl curled into her side, and if she hadn’t been so intoxicated, this probably would have been enough to send Y/n off the rails when it came to Owen. Instead, Abby took the reins in order to diffuse the situation.

“Are you gonna get in or are you gonna keep on bitching, Moore?”

He looked equally as pleased and displeased with her dual-sided tone, both wanting to keep things light while also warning him not to start anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” He tossed his towel to the side and climbed in, taking a seat next to Leah and directly across from Abby. “Whatever.”

The group sat in silence for a few moments before Y/n finally chimed in, “Where’s Mel? Is she coming down?”

He seemed to be visibly annoyed by either the question or by her, probably both. “She’s upstairs, not feeling too well.”

“Oh,” She nodded along, “That’s too bad, I think she really would’ve liked whatever drink Manny just made me.”

Manny grinned at the credit, “I call it, dulce peligro.”

Nora snorted, “Sweet danger? That’s a little on the nose, even for you, don’t you think?”

“Hey, when you start mixing up drinks like that, then you get a say, ‘kay?”

Owen’s stern tone cut through the playful nature of their bickering, “Not likely. None of us really come up here and get sloshed anymore, I guess we’ve all just matured past that.”

Embarrassment crept up her throat, causing tears to spring into her eyes from his clear disapproval of her current state. Nora and Leah shared an uncomfortable stare, both seemingly ready to grab Abby before she could make a move against him, her disbelief and anger so clear on her face.

“Well I definitely haven’t,” Manny chuckled awkwardly, “Besides, the holidays are the only time of the year where it's actually encouraged to get shitfaced.”

“Yeah,” Nora jumped in, “The night’s still young, and most of us probably aren’t even gonna remember tonight.”

Their words had obviously been a mere attempt at bringing comfort to the younger girl, whose face betrayed the insecurity that was very rapidly eating away at her drunken confidence from the inside out. Her eyes had become even glossier, and her heaving breaths made it clear that she was on the verge of tears.

“No,” She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, “He’s right, I think it’s time I put myself to bed.”

Abby grabbed her hand as she stood up, carefully stepping over her girlfriend’s legs and onto the steps that lead out onto the deck, “Hey, hey, don’t go yet. You’re having fun.”

Y/n could tell she was trying to keep her cool, not wanting to put the other three of her friends in the position of hearing her and Owen fighting once again. She shook her head, stepping out onto the pine floor and wrapping herself in the fluffy white robe that Abby had brought out for her, “I’m tired, I might go take a shower and then just go to bed.”

Abby nodded, standing from her own seat and moving to climb out after her, “Alright, I’m gonna hit the hay too, guys.”

“Aww,” Nora whined, “Guys don’t go yet.”

“Stay,” Y/n turned to Abby, offering a weak smile, “I’m just… tired. You don’t have to come to bed yet.”

“Let me walk you up,” She was practically begging at this point, wanting to comfort her girlfriend when she was so obviously upset.

“C’mon Abs, she’s a big girl. I’m sure she can go to sleep without being tucked in for just one night.”

Abby scowled at him, turning to him with intent as she growled at him, “What the hell is your problem?”

It was true, as bad as Owen usually was when Y/n was around, he was usually only passive aggressive, but now he was just being downright mean. If Abby hadn’t already gone to hell and back trying to convince her friend to let Y/n come (even though she really didn’t give them a choice), Y/n wasn’t about to let the whole vacation be ruined by her pride, choosing to allow Owen’s words to slide rather than biting back as she usually would.

“Abs, it’s okay,” Y/n tried again.

“No I don’t think-”

Nora was the next person to step out of the tub, “You know, I’m starting to get a little pruny anyways, so why don’t I help her to bed?”

Abby appeared annoyed at Nora’s intrusion, but allowed her to pull Y/n away from the situation and back into the chalet, leaving Leah and Manny to face the intense staredown between her and Owen before they, too, fled the scene, allowing the real fighting to start.

Hardly an hour had passed since Y/n had curled herself into bed, not even bothering to get herself ready at all aside from removing her bathing suit and snuggling back into the fluffy robe, leaving her surprised when her light sleep was broken by the feeling of the mattress sinking next to her. Abby looked tired, irritation clear on her face as she slumped against the headboard with a quiet sigh. Her eyes softened as she turned to glance at her girlfriend, an apologetic smile crossing her features when their eyes met.

“Sorry baby, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“‘S okay,” Y/n’s words were slurred with sleep, “‘M sorry too.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Owen’s just being a…he’s being a stupid prick.”

Y/n pushed herself up, scooching across the mattress to snuggle into her girlfriend’s side as sighing at the comforting weight of her arm around her shoulder, “I know but… I don’t know. I guess I can see why he’s annoyed. I’m not one of you guys, I know how I would feel if one of my friends invited their partners to join our traditions.”

“It’s not even about that, it’s–” she cut herself off, a deep frown cutting into her cheeks, “It’s nothing. Let’s just forget it.” She hugged Y/n tighter to her chest, pressing a long kiss to the crown of her head. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Y/n lifted her head, concern filling her at her girlfriend’s tone, “Is something wrong? Did something happen with Owen?”

Abby looked alarmed, “What–No, no. Nothing happened. I promise.”

“Good,” Y/n nuzzled her head back into her shoulder, “‘Cause I’ll kick his ass.”

Abby snorted, “I’m sure you would. Now go back to sleep, I’m gonna go take a shower and I’ll be back.”

Y/n whined, “Are you punishing me or something?”

Abby cocked her head in confusion.

“No invitation?”

A knowing smirk appeared on the blonde’s lips, “I don’t know if you know what you’re asking for here, baby.”

Y/n pushed herself away from Abby, crawling to stand at the foot of the bed as she slowly backed up towards the bathroom, hips swaying seductively as she untied her robe and let it slowly glide down her arms until it hit the floor with a soft thud, leaving her bare for her girlfriend’s viewing pleasure. She bit her lip, fluttering her lashes as she whispered a response, “I think I do.”

Abby grinned, moving faster than Y/n’s brain could even register to race towards her and haul her body over her shoulder as she rushed into the large ensuite. She reached the shower, turning the water on to allow it to heat up for a few moments before she placed her girlfriend onto the marble countertop.

Y/n’s brain swirled with pleasure as the seconds ticked by, the room slowly heating up as steam curled around the glass wall of the insanely oversized shower, feelings only heightened from the bit of alcohol still in her system and her girlfriend’s hands and lips roaming around her body.

“Abs,” she gasped out as her fingers massaged her inner thigh, “I think the water’s ready.”

Despite her previous flurry of attention, Abby seemed to have settled down the moment that they set foot in the shower, relishing in the casual intimacy of carefully washing each other’s hair, lathering one another in a foamy vanilla scented body wash, and just holding each other under the hot water. After all was said and done, Abby pulled her back against her chest, one arm wrapping around her waist and the other curling around her shoulders to hold her in place. Y/n leaned her head back, staring up at the taller blonde with droopy eyelids.

“I love you too.”

“Huh?”

Y/n giggled, “I never said it back earlier, so I am now.”

Abby shook her head, leaning down to press a kiss to her soft lips, “I love you more.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you to the moon and back ten times.”

“Well I love you times infinity!”

“Infinity?” Abby whistled, tightening her arms around her, “Don’t know if I can beat that.”

Scoffing in mock offence, Y/n turned her head to sink her teeth into the meaty bulge of Abby’s bicep, just biting hard enough to leave the faintest of teeth marks in her burning skin.

“Hey!” Abby grunted, twirling her around to face her, “I bring you on this nice vacation, I make you dinner, I drive you around, I rock your world whenever you ask,” her face grew closer with every statement, “And this is the thanks I get?”

Y/n squealed at the feeling of her fingers digging into her sides, leaning up to press their foreheads together, “I suppose you’re right, I’m sorry.” Her hands moved from their places on her biceps, gliding up her slick skin to her neck, then down over her chest, one finding purchase on one of her toned breasts, the other pressing into her firm abdomen, massaging the protruding muscles appreciatively, “Can I make it up to you?”

Abby didn’t respond, instead gripping the back of her head and slamming their lips together, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, though the fight was over within seconds as Abby forced her girlfriend into submission. She allowed her to press her against the wall, her shorter frame pressing against her so tightly that it would seem they were connected, then seemingly made the move to flip them around until Y/n pulled back.

“Nuh-uh, I’m making it up to you, remember?” Her hand slid even lower, resting against her lower belly just above the thick patch of blonde curls between her legs.

“Baby, you don’t have to–oh,” Her words came to a halt as her fingers grazed against her clit.

It was a fight that they had on the regular, Abby always feeling like she had to be on the giving end, and not the receiving. To be quite fair, there was never a time where Abby didn’t finish during sex with Y/n, but she seemed to be determined to only allow it happen either against the harness of her strap or directly against Y/n’s own centre. Hell, they’d been seeing each other for almost two months before she even let Y/n go down on her for the first time. She was a giver, and tended to find pleasure in giving, but was growing to enjoy the aspect of receiving just as much.

“Just let me,” Y/n whispered against the wet skin of her neck, lips pressing against her jugular with an indescribable softness. “Can I? Please?”

After finally receiving the green light, Y/n wasted no time in dropping to her knees, nudging Abby’s feet apart as she slid her hands over her thick thighs, lips and tongue gliding along the trembling muscles until the tip of her nose was met with the coarse hair covering her pubis.

A soft grunt fell from Abby’s lips at the contact, chuckling at the feeling of her girlfriend’s nose prodding even further inwards, poking at her clit.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Y/n murmured, mouth barely parting from the skin of her inner thigh as she spoke, carefully scooching in closer as Abby complied, even slinging one of her calves over her shoulder to offer better access. “Thank you.”

Abby laughed, “Look at you, on your knees for me and still so polite. Such a good girl.”

Y/n moaned at the words, finally moving her mouth to drag her tongue up the entire length of Abby’s cunt, whining at the taste of Abby’s dripping nectar. She twirled her tongue around her engorged clit, dragging the muscle over the bundle of nerves, encouraged by Abby’s moans and the grip she had on the back of her head.

“Right there,” The blonde gasped, bucking her hips against her face, pressing her hand even more firmly against the base of her skull. “Yeah, right fucking there. Shit.”

Then the real moaning started. What had begun as muffled grunts had quickly developed into breathy cries of pleasure, the only words falling from her lips being drawn out curses or punchy words of praise.

Y/n prodded her tongue around the opening of her core, poking inside shallowly, hardly able to slip inside with how tightly she was clenching. Chuckling, Y/n drew her middle finger against the opening, “Relax for me, Abby.”

At her words, the muscles of her core almost immediately relaxed, easily accepting the intrusion of her finger with eagerness, walls clamping down as she added her ring finger. She pulled her face away for a moment, pumping her fingers in and out with precision as her fingertips easily found purchase against the spongy flesh that caused her eyes to roll back in her skull.

Y/n grinned, pressing her lips against the thigh that had rested over her shoulder. She would never be able to recover from this view that she was so rarely able to see; Abby’s head tilted back, eyes hooded and lips parted as she whimpered out soft praises, small breasts heaving with each breath and her nipples pebbled with arousal. There was something about having somebody so big and strong at her disposal that she simply couldn’t get enough of, knowing that in a simple movement, Abby could have her at her disposal before she could even protest, the idea that someone like Abby, who took such pride in her dominance, was willing to give it up just for her.

Feeling the tell-tale fluttering of her inner walls, Y/n quickened the pace of her fingers and returned her mouth to its rightful place on her clit, sucking and licking so gently in comparison to the fast pace of her fingers.

Abby came with a shout, hand forcing Y/n’s face impossibly closer to her core as she continued to pump her fingers, fucking her through the orgasm until she felt her walls slacken. She removed her fingers, and with one last kiss to her inner thigh, she pulled away. Abby moved her leg, reaching down and yanking her girlfriend up to slam their lips together, whimpering at the musky taste of her own cum.

“God, I’m gonna marry you,” Abby murmured against her mouth, drawing soft giggles from both of them.

“Not if I marry you first.”

Abby rolled her eyes as she reached past Y/n, turning the water off and scooping her up in a single movement, “Everything’s gotta be a competition with you, huh?”

Y/n giggled, hooking her ankles at the base of Abby’s spine and wrapping her arms around her neck, “Well, not everything.”

“Yeah? So you’re not gonna try and fight me when I have my way with you?”

Y/n kissed her again, “As long as you don’t make me wait, I’m impatient.”

Abby tossed her on the mattress, completely unconcerned about the fact that she was still dripping wet from the shower. She crossed the room, opening the top drawer of the dresser and fishing around for a moment before she found her target. Y/n watched in awe as Abby skillfully slid the harness up her legs, tightening it just enough that it wouldn’t slip as she turned, revealing the thick blue dildo hanging from her pelvis.

“Why don’t you just lay there and be a good girl for me, heh?”

When Y/n woke up the next morning, she was stiff, but who wouldn’t be after being bent in every imaginable position for over an hour?

It was nearly twelve o’clock by the time her eyes finally cracked open, and she was disappointed, but not surprised, to find that she was alone in the bed. She was dressed in only one of Abby’s lacrosse sweatshirts, and tucked snugly into the blankets and a note set neatly on the pillow next to her own.

Went out to the slopes, be back soon. Love you.

Y/n sighed, tossing the note aside as she glanced around the room, noticing that Abby must have tidied up a bit before she left, everything that had been knocked over or thrown across the room in the early hours of the morning having been set neatly back in place. Y/n would have preferred to stay in bed a while longer, but her throbbing headache demanded that she go downstairs and consume as much coffee and aspirin as possible without needed medical attention (luckily for her, she has a sexy pre-med girlfriend on standby).

After cleaning herself up some and tidying her hair (and cursing herself for not doing her entire hair routine while it was wet) and sliding a pair of sweatpants up her legs, she shuffled down the wooden staircase to face the few stragglers that stayed behind.

In the kitchen, she found Nora, who seemed like she had just returned, still dressed in her snowpants as she stood at the kitchen counter stirring her coffee. The dark-haired girl turned her head at the sound of Y/n coming down the stairs, a grin appearing on her face at the sight of the sleepy girl.

“Morning sunshine!” She chuckled, glancing over at the large grandfather clock quickly, “You just won me ten bucks, gorgeous. Manny said you’d be out for the count until the afternoon.”

Y/n raised her eyebrows, shaking her head as she made her own cup of coffee and swallowed two tablets of aspirin. She took up one of the tall stools opposite Nora, quickly taking a mouthful of her drink.

“You come back alone?”

Nora shrugged, “Yeah, once Abby and Manny start making everything a competition I count myself out.”

Y/n nodded her head, a knowing smile crossing her features. She, too, has fallen victim to the pissing contests between those two.

“Was it just you three?”

She pursed her lips, slowly shaking her head, “No, uh, Owen joined kinda last minute. Hey, did Abby tell you anything about last night? Manny said they sort of went after it after we left, but he and Leah kinda made a run for it.”

“No, she didn’t,” Y/n frowned, “She seemed a little worked up when she came to bed, but she didn’t really say much.”

A smirk appeared on Nora’s lips, “Yeah, we all heard how worked up she was.”

The blood drained from Y/n’s face, realisation dawning on her face. She thought she had made some kind of effort to keep herself quiet the night before, but to be fair, she had been intoxicated and Abby had made her come three times with just her tongue before even thinking of putting the strap to work.

“Gotta say, I never pictured Abby being a little freaky, I never even would have imagined some of the shit she was saying to you. It had me blushing.”

Y/n buried her face in her hands, wincing at the burning temperature of her skin. Had they all heard it? She’d been so worried about imposing herself on this trip that she hadn’t even considered the consequences of any alone time that she and Abby would have together. She supposed it was bound to happen; The chalet wasn’t that big, and the vents connected every room together, and even knowing that every other person on the vacation had witnessed their very active and intense sex life, she couldn’t find it within herself to regret it at all. The light purple bruises on her neck were a testimony to the way her night ended, and with Owen around, she would proudly wear them.

The front door swung open, the entire house immediately being filled with the energetic and boisterously loud voice of Manny, obviously still hyped up from his seemingly long session on the slopes. When his gaze fell on Y/n, he hurriedly glanced down at his watch, scowling as he read the time as 11:59, indicating that he had lost the bet. His disappointment was not long-lasting, however, grinning mischievously and wiggling his brows at her as Abby appeared behind her, arms resting on the counter on either side of her body and caging her in, skin cold to the touch through her thin long-sleeve shirt.

“Jesus, Abigail,” He whistled, “What did you do to her? The poor girl looks like she got mugged.”

“Fuck off,” The blonde groaned, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s head and chuckling as Y/n raised her middle finger in his direction.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Manuel.” She hummed, leaning back against Abby’s chest.

Manny seemed surprised at her bold response, turning to the taller girl with a smirk as he continued to tease them.

“That’s enough Manny, I already gave her hell for interrupting my beauty sleep,” Nora added, taking a long sip from her mug.

“Please,” Abby rested her chin on the top of Y/n’s head, “I’ve lived with both of you before, I can’t even count how many times I had to sleep with earplugs in.”

Nora shrugged, “What goes around, comes around I suppose.”

Abby’s body stiffened when Owen appeared next to Manny, his blue eyes narrowing in on the pair across the counter. It didn’t surprise her in the least that Owen would be bothered by their late night activities; Abby had once disclosed to her early on in their sexual relationship that she had very little experience in anything beyond the basics. With Owen, things were quite vanilla, and there was little said and there was almost no experimentation, so it would make sense that he felt a bit dejected at the idea that the woman he was still so obviously in love with was now in a much healthier and more adventurous relationship with someone else.

Abby squeezed Y/n’s shoulders, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “I think I’m gonna go up to the room for a bit, maybe watch a movie and take a nap, if you wanna join me.”

Y/n nodded immediately, excited at the idea of going back to bed, hopping off of the stool and letting Abby lead her upstairs by the hand.

She curled up in the bed, constructing a nest of pillows and blankets on top of the comforter and tucking herself in under a lighter fleece blanket. Abby appeared out of the bathroom, now dressed in a pair of sweats and a tight-fitting t-shirt, her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. She chuckled when she spotted the structure that had been erected on top of the bed.

“What movie did you pick?” She asked, carefully climbing in next to her girlfriend and snuggling up against her.”

Y/n glanced up at her, “The Holiday. Thought it was fitting.”

A few minutes into the film, Y/n could hardly even hold her eyes open, rolling over to lay on her belly and nuzzle her face into the crook of Abby’s neck. She glanced up at her girlfriend, admiring the way that the flickering colours from the screen were being projected on her face, light catching on her features and causing her rosy cheeks to glow. Abby turned her head, staring down at her with a fond smile.

“What?” She asked, fingers gracing Y/n’s cheek softly.

“Just looking,” She mumbled, “You’re so pretty.”

Abby scoffed, “Says you.”

“Says me,” Y/n agreed, “If anyone else says that, I’ll kill them. Except for your grandmother.”

Abby laughed, “Yes, I would prefer if you didn’t kill Nana, thank you.”

Y/n pressed her lips to the underside of her jaw, “Is everything good between you and Owen?”

“You want everything to be good between us?” Abby raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged, “You know how I feel about Owen, but he’s your friend, and I don’t wanna be the cause of some drama between you if I can help it. Nora said you guys had a fight last night.”

Abby sighed, her arms tightening around her girlfriend’s figure, “I don’t like the way he talks about you. The thing is, when I broke up with him, I was honest with him and he seemed to be okay with it. But since you and I started dating, he seems to be bothered by it. Last night, he was drunk, and he said some pretty nasty stuff about us, mostly about me, honestly.”

“So what, he’s mad that you’ve moved on with someone else, or he’s mad that you’ve moved on with a girl?”

“Not sure,” Abby shook her head, “I don’t–I just wanna move past it. I don’t care what he thinks, and neither should you. If it comes down to you and him, I'm picking you every time.”

Y/n leaned up, nudging Abby’s curved nose with her own before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, “I love you.”

Abby smiled, kissing her again, “I love you too.”

This time, when Y/n woke up, she was still curled tightly against Abby’s chest. She was thankful, smiling softly as she nuzzled closer to her warmth and simply just laid there contentedly until a loud banging sounded from their bedroom door.

“Wake up, you lazy perras,” Manny shouted through the wooden door, “It’s time to party!”

Y/n had quickly come to realise over the few days at the chalet that Abby’s friends took New Year’s Eve very seriously. Her eyes had grown three sizes at the sight of the mountain of booze that they had all collected to share amongst the group on the one night. Each of them had expressed their excitement for the holiday, even Mel, who had hardly interacted with her the whole time they’d been there.

It was torture to pull themselves out of the little nest they’d made, but they knew that Manny would be back in a matter of minutes if they weren’t out of bed soon, and he would be much less friendly the second time. Taking a few moments to wake themselves up, both girls finally crawled out of bed and began to get themselves ready for the evening, knowing that Leah, Nora, and Mel would be wanting to take and post pictures from the little party on any social media platform that they could get their hands on.

They were both offered drinks immediately upon entering the kitchen, discovering a large bowl of punch sitting in the middle of the large island, apparently having been a concoction made by Jordan and Manny, which became quite obvious once Y/n took a small drink and discovered that it was probably closer in form to a toxic chemical than any kind of enjoyable beverage, but for the sake of the holiday, she continued to take small sips of the drink, quickly followed up by a much more enjoyable Diet Coke.

They spent the evening playing drinking games, watching movies, and exposing each other’s most embarrassing moments until late in the evening, though Y/n decided to cap herself at the one drink, considering the night she’d had the night before, and instead accepted the edible offered to her by Nora, who had also been put off of liquor by the hangover she’d had that morning.

Y/n could admit that the small get-together felt much more intimate and enjoyable to her than attending a larger party, as she likely would have done if Abby had not invited her. Even those who did not overly like Y/n seemed glad to have her there, except for Owen, of course.

Even Mel had entertained some conversations with her and had invited her to jump into some pictures with her and the other girls, the alcohol making her much friendlier than usual. Y/n’s feelings towards Mel were never set in stone. From time to time, she was very nice to her, but the majority of the time, she seemed completely uninterested in her being there. Of course, Y/n could understand it, to a degree; If Abby acted the same way that Owen did when she was around, Y/n would feel the same way, and he apparently hadn’t started acting that way until Y/n came around.

Y/n couldn’t help but keep a watchful eye on the two figures out on the deck, doing her best to not make it obvious, feeling the need to protect her girlfriend from any more hurt, especially after hearing what sort of things that Owen had said to her the night before. They’d only been out there for about ten minutes after Owen had asked her to talk in private, offering an overly sympathetic look to both Abby and her girlfriend, who’d been reluctant to let her go on her own, especially since he had been drinking quite heavily all evening.

In truth, Owen had immediately apologised for what he’d said the night before, shocking the blonde with his words. Normally, Owen was a proud man, never apologising to anyone unless he knows that it might offer him something in return.

“Really,” He had cleared his throat, obviously hesitant and uncomfortable, “I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt you, it’s just…You don’t know how hard it’s been.”

“Hard?” Abby repeated, “What’s been so hard for you, Owen?”

He scowled, “Seeing you happy, with someone else–with her.”

She scoffed, “So it is about her. Tell me, if I was dating another man, would you have this issue?”

“Yes!” He looked appalled, “Seriously–how are you trying to turn this into that sorta thing. You know I’m not like that.”

“Do I?” She pressed, “How many times have I heard you use the f slur in passing, or couldn’t stop staring at two girls holding hands in public? You may not realise it all the time, but you are like that, and I can’t just sit back and let you treat someone I love like that.”

He paused, “You love her?”

She nodded.

“I just–I don’t get it. How can you be…you were never like that with me. We were happy, I thought you loved me.”

Abby stared at him incredulously, “I did. Part of me always will, and you know that, but I’m not sure I was ever in love with you.”

That seemed to set him off, “So I was just…what to you? A plaything? An experiment?”

“Owen,” she growled, “You’re the one who started dating someone else only a week after we broke up, and not just anyone, but Mel. The one person who you always told me not to worry about, that you two were just good friends. Now look at you two, you act like an old married couple.”

“I don’t love Mel.” He stated, like it was a blatantly obvious statement. “I love you.”

Abby laughed, pushing herself away from the railing harshly, “You’re drunk, Owen.”

He grabbed her arm, pulling her back into him before she could stomp away, forcing his lips onto hers in a fury of passion. His hand gripped the back of her head, holding her in place as she fought against him. Finally, she sank her teeth into his bottom lip, not relenting until she could taste the iron of his blood and he was forcing her away.

“Fuck!” He swore, reaching up to nurse his bleeding lip, though he was given very little time to recover as Y/n practically flew past Abby and swung her fist into his jaw. He stumbled backwards from the force, flood now running down his chin and neck, “You stupid bitch.”

Abby stepped between the two as he lunged at the shorter of the two girls, shoving him down onto the deck as the others came rushing out after Y/n. She scowled at him, crouching ever so slightly to meet his gaze, “Don’t you ever put your hands on her, or me, ever again.”

She turned to face her girlfriend, hands cradling her now swollen fist and running her thumb over the cracked and bleeding skin over the knuckles, “You okay?”

Y/n lifted her good hand up to swipe at the lip on Abby’s lower lip, tears leaking down her cheeks, “Are you?”

She nodded, pressing her bloody lips to Y/n’s forehead briefly, taking one final look at the man on the floor, who seemed to be in shock and finally realising what he had done, glancing between the two women standing over him, to his friends who all seemed nothing short of disgusted with him, and finally, his girlfriend, who could barely stand to offer him anything more than a fleeting glance. Abby shook her head. She never wanted this, she would have been more than content to keep Owen in her life as a friend, but there was very little that could recover him in her eyes, and she knew that he would never be able to accept her or the woman she loved. She hoped that, at some point in the future, he might come to his senses, but until then, she decided that he would no longer be regarded as one of her best friends, as he previously had been.

She led her girlfriend back inside, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer before guiding her up the stairs and to their bedroom. Abby pushed her to sit on the edge of the mattress, lowering herself to kneel in front of her. She gingerly pressed the ice to her knuckles, shushing her when she whimpered at the sudden cold.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered, “None of this would’ve happened if I didn’t come on this trip.”

“Stop apologising. It’s no one’s fault but his, for being a homophobic prick, and my own, for putting up with it for so long.”

It was quiet for a moment before a giggle escaped from Y/n’s lips, “I told you I would kick someone’s ass for you.”

“That’s really all you got out of this?” Abby laughed, her radiant smile breaking through her otherwise stony expression.

“That,” Y/n leaned down, “And that I love you.”

“I thought you already knew that.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I did, but this was my proof that I wasn’t joking about it.”

She leaned down, hands cupping Abby’s defined jaw in her hands, holding her just as softly as one might hold a newborn as she pressed a kiss to her lips. When she pulled back, she glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser, smirking as she pressed another kiss to her lips and mumbled against her.

“Happy New Year, baby.”

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #abby anderson #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby tlou #college!abby anderson

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elsweetheart · 11 months

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Bodyguard Abby who is so much softer once you get to know her. Her rough and tough exterior all muscles and serious faces melts as your relationship grows. Abby learned as time went on that often your brattiness was truly because of neediness and a lack of attention so her approach to the issue of your behavior changed in turn. Don’t get me wrong she’s still strict on her rules of manners and general politeness but she can tell when the way your acting comes from somewhere deeper. Abby knows that sometimes you need her gentle touch and hushed words. Sometimes you need soft slow intimacy deep eye contact (and deeper strokes) coupled with words of “I know baby, I know you just needed me to bring you back down yea? I know what you need sweet girl I always do” and you just go dumb for her forgetting why you were ever upset in the first place.

THE WAY MY TUMMY FLIPPED???????

but this sweet nonnie. this. for her it’s all about finding the balance, and it takes her getting into a relationship with you to finally perfect it. she’s too strict and you push away, feeling touch starved and scolded. she’s too soft, you feel lost for guidance and that you can talk to her however you like. but you get that mixture just right? and you’re putty in her hands.

she can feel when you’re getting that bratty edge with her, because your face is a tell all. maybe she sat too far away from you on the couch that morning, and then took a call for too long, and then told you that you couldn’t go somewhere because it was “too dangerous, even with me there.” and then told you a funny anecdote about her past and mentioned a “she” in the story. and you’re just… you just feel love starved and cross. so, naturally out comes the attitude.

“you’re supposed to look after me.” you stand behind her in the bedroom as she searches for something unrelated to you in her dresser.

“i do.” she glances at you over her shoulder, but doesn’t really care too much aside from that.

“you don’t. you’re literally fucking neglecting me.”

at this accusation she inhales and exhales slowly as she turns around to look at you, before coming over and gently dragging you to the bed. she sits you down to create even more levels between the two of you, so that you can sink into that small and vulnerable space you so badly need to be put in. her thumbs starts at your temples and stroke down your cheek bone as she sighs.

“i think you need to start listening, sweet girl. somethings going on in that head and you’ve stopped, so let me remind you, yeah? i’m in charge. no matter how much attitude, how much you brat, how often you run that pretty mouth — i am still going to be in charge. if you need a reminder of that, you ask. i know you’re a good girl, i know you can— so show me.” her thumb has travelled to your lips, running over them and dipping inside to collect some moisture before running them back over your lips until they were drooly and your eyes were doe like with pupils dilated, slipping into that foggy space. “do you want me to remind you that you’re my girl? that i’ve got everything under control?” she cooes, one thumb slipping into your mouth for you to suck on whilst the other hand cradles the bottom of your head. “yeah?” and you gargle an “mhm” against her hand. of course, she then proceeds to strap you so deep and hard and slow with intense eye contact and lots of reassuring words until you’re seeing stars <33

#anon #bodyguard!abby

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pensat-i-fet · 1 year

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An unexpected guest (Pablo Gavi x Reader)

**Little request made by a friend (love you, V ❤️). I hope you all enjoy it ☺️**

Word count: 2225

Masterlist

Wattpad

The Christmas season was over but not really. At least not for your family. You always travelled to the Alps for a couple of days of skiing, where you reunited with the side of your family that didn't live in Spain. It was always one of the highlights of your year.

One of your favourite things about this time was getting to cook with your auntie Abby. She was a chef and had been asking you to help her since you were a curious kid who just wanted to know how the weird looking ingredients on the table could turn into a dish that looked nothing like them.

So there you both were, in the kitchen ready to cook for a lot of people. More than usual, since there were three guests invited to tonight's dinner.

"Who's coming tonight, then?", you asked your aunt while you kept on kneading the pizza base to make sure it was perfect.

"I don't know. Some people your brother met".

But there was something about her tone that made you feel she did know. What would be the point of hiding it, though?

"This is done. Should I start mixing the ingredients for the cake?"

"Yes, darling. Please do that. Go to the pantry for more sugar if there isn't enough. I used a lot of it yesterday".

So you busied yourself with that while sharing more anecdotes with your aunt about your uni classmates. They were a funny bunch.

Then your aunt took over to build the cake on the oven mould and told you to put the pizzas and the fish pies in the ovens.

"A cloth isn't enough. You'll burn your fingers again. Get that oven glove".

You hated using the oven glove because of how big and stiff it was but she was right. You had burnt yourself too many times.

"Done".

"Perfect. Go grab some more butter for me, please".

The pantry was almost on the other side of the house. How that made sense, you didn't know.

You needed to walk past the living room and there you noticed your brother was chatting with three guys. You could only see one of them, since the others had their back to you but you didn't know him. So you probably didn't know the others. Were they the guests?

Your brother was your twin and you shared some classes in uni but not all. And always tried to have different friend groups so it only made sense to guess those other boys belonged to his group. You just hoped they wouldn't be as douchey as some other friends he had introduced you to.

Dinner was almost ready and you had nothing else to do anymore. This was usually when you left and your aunt gave the finishing touches to all the dishes.

"Your uncle will help me serve this. Go enjoy the evening and…go meet our guests".

"Ok?"

It wasn't odd for uncle Mark to help but your auntie's tone when mentioning the guests was a bit odd…again.

"Hi. Dinner will be served soon. Time to work, Marky".

"On it!"

You smiled looking at your goofy uncle's reaction but then your smile turned into a shocked face when you saw who the guests were.

The boy you saw before was still there and next to him was another guy you didn't know either. But the third one…was that Gavi? The Barça footballer? It couldn't be. Why would he be there?

But then it made sense. Of course, your aunt knew he was there and that you were going to freak out because he was your favourite player.

"Hey, sis! Come here. I'll introduce you to my friends".

He was friends with Gavi and never told you? Time to murder a brother.

Your brother introduced you to Roger and Miguel first. And you swore those were the names of the two guys he mentioned a lot when talking about his uni friends.

"And this is Gavi, but you knew that already".

"Yeah", you said looking down, already embarrassed by your sibling.

"I feel honoured that she knows me", said Gavi and kept getting closer to you. "Do I not get two kisses?"

What? Oh right, two kisses on the cheek like you did with the others.

But he didn't move and let you be the one who motioned as if to kiss his left cheek first and then the right. His not moving meant you had to move back when going from left to right, so your noses wouldn't collide. That would be even more embarrassing.

"Nice to meet you", you said.

"Nice to meet you".

After the introductions, everyone went back to watching TV. You sat next to your dad, who was a huge Barça fan and gave you the perfect excuse to just stare at Gavi. If dad did the same, it didn't look so bad.

Everyone was trying to make conversation with the football star they didn't expect to show up at their dinner. And whenever Gavi turned to look at whoever was speaking to him and his eyes locked with yours, you tried to signal to him that the seat next to yours on the sofa was empty. But either he didn't get it or didn't care.

"Dinner is almost here", said your uncle while going into the big dining room, carrying plates and glasses.

"I'll be right back", you said to no one in particular.

"Where are you going?", asked your dad.

"It's too hot. I'll change into something more comfortable".

When you got to the room, you took off the thick jumper you had had on all day and put on a long-sleeved blouse. Looking in the mirror, you noticed your hair was a bit of a mess from being in a messy bun while cooking. So you brushed it quickly and let it down.

The moment you closed the door to your room, the door to the bathroom that was next to it opened.

"Hey", said Gavi.

"Hi. We should go eat before it gets cold".

"Wait".

"Do you need anything?"

"No. I just wanted to let you know your hair looks really good like that".

"Oh", you said, touching the ends of it without realising. "Thanks".

"So…you like football?"

"I don't know if like is the right word. People call it an obsession".

That made him laugh. "It’s the same for me. And do you get to go to the matches?"

"Yes, the entire family has season tickets".

"Huh. Well that's annoying".

You going to the matches was annoying? "Why?"

"I was planning on giving you some tickets to impress you but now I'll have to think of something else".

"Why would you want to impress…".

Your question was interrupted by him getting close, too close, to you. "Sit next to me at dinner. Please".

You could only nod. And then you both went back to join everyone for dinner.

Dinner was as great as always. And even with some new people there you were all still getting used to, the mood didn't suffer at all.

"So, should we call you Gavi or Pablo? It's a bit confusing", asked your mum, who had been staring at all your interactions with Gavi ever since you sat next to each other.

"I'll answer to both, so whichever is your favourite".

Did that apply to you too? But you didn't have to wonder for too long, since he leaned slightly towards you to whisper. "Call me Pablo, please".

You nodded, lifting your head to look at him. Then you went back to finish the last bites of food on your plate and put your hands on your legs, so you could lean back a bit and rest. It had been a long day.

Gavi finished his dinner just a couple of minutes after you did and while he kept his left arm on the table, he moved the right so he could find one of your hands and hold it.

You didn't really know how to react but also knew your body already had on your behalf. How red was your face exactly? The tomatoes on the table probably looked pale next to you.

"I'll go grab the cakes!!", sang auntie Abby, rising from her seat now that everyone was done eating.

"Tell them you don't want dessert, please", told you Gavi, whispering again so no one would hear him.

"Why?"

"So I can take you somewhere else to have some".

Between his offer and the way his thumb was caressing your wrist, you didn't even know how to form words. So you just nodded. And his answer was also nonverbal. He just smiled and squeezed your hand.

You two really thought whispers and hands under the tablecloth were fooling everyone around you. But they could all see what was happening and were highly entertained by it.

Before you left to go find a place to eat, you went back to your room to change again. It was freezing cold outside, so you changed the blouse for a hoodie and put some boots on and a little beanie to warm up your head.

"Where are you going?", asked your cousin when she got inside the room.

"Out for a little walk".

"Now? It's really dark outside. I'm not sure it's safe".

She was so cute worrying about you. "I won't be going out alone. See you later!"

You loved your cousin but she was bound to ask too many questions and you were too nervous already.

When you got out, you found Gavi waiting for you. He was also wearing a beanie and he looked adorable.

"Ready?"

"Ready".

You took the hand he offered and started to walk towards the area where all the restaurants were.

"Anything you fancy eating?"

"Something warm", you laughed, pretending to shiver.

"Are you cold?"

"No, it's fine. I'm well protected by all these clothes. But my face is half frozen, probably".

Gavi stopped and made you turn to look at him. He let go of your hand but only to lift both hands to your face.

"I can't tell if it's cold because of the gloves".

Funny, you didn't feel cold at all anymore.

"But there are ways to check".

After saying that, he kept leaning down until his lips brushed yours. He looked up to see your reaction. To see if you were going to run away or not.

"Cold?", you asked, not knowing what else to say.

"A bit. Do you want me to fix it?"

And when you nodded, he continued what he had started, also encouraged by how your hands went beneath his coat so you could hold onto his waist.

After a couple of minutes, you finally separated and stared at each other with silly grins on your faces.

"Let's go find some food".

Warm waffles sounded like the best plan for both of you, so that's where you went. You didn't know how you could still be so hungry after the feast you had had for dinner, but as always, you devoured your waffle quickly.

"Sorry. I really like waffles".

"Don't be", he said, laughing.

"Where are the napkins? I probably have chocolate syrup all over my face. I swear I'm not always this messy".

"You got a bit over here", he said, pointing at the side of his mouth.

"I might have some tissues in my bag…".

"No need for them", he said, stopping you from grabbing the bag and moving you closer to him.

He kissed one side of your mouth softly, before moving to the other. And it was you who grabbed the back of his head this time to kiss him properly. He could save his teasing for another time.

A cough from a man sitting on the table next to yours made you stop. And while you tried to hide your blush, Gavi just laughed.

"Just so you know, there was no need for napkins but I couldn't waste that opportunity to steal another kiss".

You shook your head, smiling. He could steal as many as he wanted.

The way back to the house was slow. Very slow. Because you two couldn't stop talking and stopping to kiss again. It really was the best way to fight the minus degrees temperature.

But sadly, you eventually made it to your family's house.

"They invited us to stay the night here".

"That's nice. Do you want to be a gentleman and walk me to my room?"

"Lead the way".

You reached your room and turned to see if anyone was around. But it was quite late so they were all probably sleeping.

"Do I have to go to the guest room? You're better company than my friends".

That made you laugh. "I'm sharing the room with my cousin so yes, you do".

"A shame".

Still, you didn't separate because even though you were incredibly tired, kissing him was a lot better than sleeping.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. Tell me I can see you again when you're back in Barcelona".

"You aren't getting rid of me so easily, Pablito".

"Good. Maybe we can have breakfast together tomorrow before I leave too?"

"It's a date".

A couple of kisses later, you finally got inside your room with a huge grin on your face.

"Tell me everything, little cousin".

#pablo gavi #gavi #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi one shot #pablo gavi fluff #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff

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aclickbaittitle · 4 months

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History through the lens of Unwell: A Midwestern Gothic Mystery

Unwell’s last episode was published on September 12 of 2023, lucky for me I have not yet listened to the fifth season so Unwell can last as long as I want it to. In fact, I don’t want to finish it until I write an article about the story.

This is that article.

History, in the most simple terms I can put it, is the study of the past as it relates to the present. We learn and study it, not just to know what our ancestors in 500 B.C. got up to but to understand ourselves in the wider context that is time, the universe and humanity.

Unwell is a fiction podcast about Lillian Harper moving to the small town of Mt. Absalom, Ohio, to care for her estranged mother Dorothy after an injury. Living in the town’s boarding house which has been run by her family for generations, she discovers conspiracies, ghosts, and a new family in the house’s strange assortment of residents. (Courtesy of unwellpodcast.com)

History in Unwell takes various shapes, the most obvious is the resident historian of Fentwood House: Abbie, who has come to Mount Absolom to pursue a doctorate in history with a focus on urban planning. The Fentwood House itself is a historical site of the town, with Dot (the owner and carer), being a vessel of oral history for it: always talking about different wild anecdotes of her ancestors and the house, there is also the various documents said ancestors left behind, which became a crucial plot point in season 4. And of course, there are the ghosts.

Ghosts on Unwell are complicated to the point that even themselves do not quite understand what they are, but I would like to argue that they are “living” memories of the town.

(Spoilers for the next part).

Nora is the ghost of the observatorium, an astrophysicist from the early 20th century.

Nora’s control and keeping of the echoes people have walk through the observatory could be seen as her “archiving” different moments of Mount Absolom and the voices of different people, plus her astrophysical and engineering knowledge that allows Rudy to fix / continue the creation of the observatory’s telescope (her telescope) is similar to the way people from today look at the discoveries and knowledge from people in the past to further their work.

Wes, who works at Fentwood House, keeps in a way alive the story of the establishment through his spooky tours, and it is through him that we get to see how Mount Absolom in the 40s or 50s looked like.

And then there is Silas, one of the founders of Mount Absolom. Silas or Reverent Lodge, represent that darker history the town wants to erase and/or forget. I do not only mean trying to white-washed it (there’s this nice scene in which Abby calls out the “Thanksgiving” myth) because it is more complicated than that, I think… in a way… Silas is a representation against modernity and expansion: his chapel is under an observatory- like how one may substitute religion for science in the modern world, he is fiercely protective of the forest around Mount Absolom and doesn’t like how the town is expanding to its borders, he reproaches Dot (and others) for forgetting traditions, etc. There is truth to Silas’ critics which is what makes him so compelling, and the fact that through his friendship with Lily he doesn’t appear to be that much of a racist compared to his contemporaries. In other words, Silas is the bogey man that carries with him the past the residents of Mount Absolom don’t want to talk about.

However, Ghosts, Landmarks, and Historians is not only the way that Unwell engages with history. It is the way to move the plot forward.

The characters throughout the story have to engage with the past in order to overcome obstacles. To discover the mystery they end up digging up those sweet first type sources, interviewing people from the past or who know about it, exploring ancient sites, asking the story behind the town’s festival and cultural practices- in a way there is no much difference between a historian and a detective (Abby often wears both hats in the show) just how far away is the moment they are investigating.

A theme of the show is also the power of knowing your history and that of the place you inhabit. If there is a character that embodies this theme the best is not the historian but Wes, there is a difference between the Wes of the first season who just knew where he lived, to the Wes of the fourth season who knows the name of his parents, the school he went to, the detective radio-show he like to listen after school; when Wes learns the history of the boy he was he becomes (as much as you can at sixteen) self-actualized. Dot, on the other hand, has the opposite story as her illness slowly devours the stories she has hanging around in her brain.

And then there is Lily. Lily is a beautifully complicated character, in the beginning of the story she denies any connections or ties she could have to the town, Fentwood House and even her mother, but through the course of the show she is forced to grapple with that notion, to confront her younger self and the relationship she had with her mother, to realize that she too forms part of the history of Mount Absolom, and through that start healing, and help the town heal as well.

I love history, if life is good to me I will probably end up teaching it. But engaging with the past is hard, so much of it is covered in blood, so much of it asks for you to look at the present with other eyes, to reinvent yourself time after time. But there is power in it, there is power in looking at the past and seeing how it reflects in the present, to know that even if you feel alone there were millions before you that paved the path you walk on, to step in buildings or walk through the forest and know they will keep an echo of you as they have for everyone else. Unwell knows that power and it shows it through a story that is engaging and through characters that are captivating.

#unwell podcast #podcasts recommendations #article #audiodrama #audio fiction #fiction podcast

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revnah1406 · 10 days

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Hi👐🏼

18,10 for Abby and Sparrow 🤍

Hello love! 🧡🧡✨

Let's start!

18. What makes them Laugh? (Already answered but I'll leave it here too!)

ABBY: Dark humour, usually things that are involved with mental health issues. She might be born in 2012 but she's built like a Gen Z.

X: "I'm gonna put a fucking bullet between your eyes kid!"

ABBY: "FINALLY! Then fucking do it pussy boy! I'm too tired for this"

DAVID: "Abby right now is not the time!"

SPARROW: usually funny stories and experiences that she has experienced with her friends and companions during missions. She loves those moments when it's time to tell anecdotes. The crazier they are the more she laughs.

10. Introvert or extrovert?

ABBY: definitely Introvert. No social skills. None. If you make her go to a party she'll go plant mode 🌿. Standing in a corner doing nothing but holding her drink like 🥤🧍🏻‍♀️. But she can be mean if someone wants to socialise or flirt with her and her social battery is 0%. So Maybe she goes carnivorous plan mode (?)

SPARROW: Extrovert. Life of the party. You have to take her on a short leash or she'll talk to every single person in the room. And DON'T let her drink tequila. NEVER (Aly knows what happens. Never again. @alypink)

Thank you so much for the questions love! 🧡🧡🥰

#Hannah “Sparrow” Clayton #abby mason #ask game #oc ask game #you got mail! 💌

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ncisfranchise-source · 4 months

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Heading into its 21st season, NCIS has a tough job: properly paying tribute to David McCallum, who died at the age of 90 in September, and his character, Dr. Donald “Ducky” Mallard, who was first introduced in the backdoor pilot episodes of JAG in 2003.

Season 21 Episode 2, airing on February 19, 2024, is the one tasked with doing just that, and it will be cowritten by the actor whose character we first met as Ducky’s assistant, Brian Dietzen. (Jimmy Palmer is now a doctor himself and the chief medical examiner.) Dietzen is once again collaborating with Scott Williams, with whom he wrote Season 19’s “The Helpers” and Season 20’s “Old Wounds.”

“In the episode, the team will learn of Ducky’s passing and reflect on their memories of him as they grieve,” co-showrunners/executive producers Steven D. Binder and David North told TVLine. “And true to Ducky’s meticulous and compassionate nature, even after he’s gone, he still manages to solve one last crime with the team.” They also promised “a very touching and special moment you won’t want to miss.”

But what moments need to be in what is sure to be one of the most powerful, touching episodes of the series? We suggest just those below.

An episode worthy of David McCallum and Ducky

Listen, this should go without saying and it’s more likely than not that we’ll get it, but it’s the only way to kick off this list. Whatever the tribute ends up being, it should be one that would make McCallum proud and properly reflects what both his and Ducky’s legacies mean for the show and franchise. That, of course, would include flashbacks to significant moments over the past 20 seasons.

Major returns — or at least mentions

While Dietzen and Sean Murray (who plays Tim McGee) have both been part of the show since Season 1, they were both introduced (and recurred) then. But Gibbs (Mark Harmon) has a long history with Ducky — the 400th episode detailed its origins — and Tony (Michael Weatherly), too, was part of the JAG episodes. We also saw what Ducky meant to characters who have since left like Ziva (Cote de Pablo) and Abby (Pauley Perrette) over the years. (Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, and Abby are also characters Dietzen told TV Insider in February he “would be ecstatic to write for.”) At least one major return would be great — especially from Harmon, given Ducky and Gibbs’ friendship — but if that doesn’t happen, these characters need to at least be mentioned in a significant way.

At least one flashback with Young Ducky

Adam Campbell has appeared in four episodes since Season 12, including the 400th, as young Ducky, and from his first, it was clear he was perfect casting. And if Mark Harmon isn’t in the episode, his son Sean Harmon could always return as young Gibbs for a flashback highlighting the early days of that friendship.

Palmer sharing an anecdote about Ducky...

… just like Ducky did all the time. He’s the perfect person to deliver it, and it would be especially fitting if that is what helps the team solve its case, given Binder and North’s tease in their statement.

Heartfelt emotion, grief, and joy

It’s going to be a heartbreaking hour. We already know that. But there needs to be (at least a little) joy as well as Ducky’s life is celebrated. Not only could that work, but it could also fit the bill of what Dietzen previously told us he wanted to tackle when it came to writing his next episode: “I would love to do a lighter show, for sure. … But that said, if I could dig into some darker stuff with any one of these characters, that would be a joy to do as well.” Ducky lived a long life. There are some stories still to be told. Those could certainly bring some laughs.

Acknowledgement of what Ducky meant to NCIS beyond the team (and their memories)

Sometimes it’s easy to forget about the rest of the agency, but Ducky didn’t just work with this one team. And he continued to mean quite a deal to NCIS as its historian after he left the chief ME position. There could be some sort of gathering — outside of a funeral, if that’s shown — or not, but what there definitely needs to be is something permanent in the building that serves as a reminder of the legacy Ducky has left behind.

It ends in the morgue

Empty, lights out.

#ncis

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ellsbclls · 1 year

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hi my baby! I am so excited to see what you have to write, my girl genius :) tell the class more about danseur!abby perhaps?

tiki, my little bird 🥹🤍 you have been one of my greatest sources of support throughout this process, my golden thread to my rickety little loom. let me go ahead and dump some of the little anecdotes i haven’t spoiled to you thus far —-

danseur!abby has the diet of a twenty-five year old gym rat that wears sleeveless muscle tees and microdoses on creatine. this girl has the diet of a goddamn thirteen year old. reader will take her to a nice restaurant and try to coerce her into expanding her palette with fettuccini alfredo and will still have to watch her order some variation of chicken and rice.

danseur!abby only gets to warm up with the girls for the first twenty minutes of rehearsal — then the room splits and she’s left to fend for herself between fourteen trained male ballerinas with calves the size of war tanks and egos to match.

and as much as she fails to take notice of the attention she gets from the other half of the studio, her peers don’t. half of their rehearsals are accompanied by bickering and half-hearted threats, locker room talk that somehow flies right over abby’s head despite how large her r presence looms. every group of men will have them — a gaggle of gross boys that thrive off of how disgusting they are, like a fungus.

jonas is no exception.

jonas says shit like “if anderson doesn’t give her a reason to feel all hot and bothered up there, then i wouldn’t mind giving her some inspiration.” after you and abby attempt to rehearse your first act together.

jonas also has such a punchable face. and every time those sinister features curl into a mere sign of joy, abby is suddenly and ferociously all too overwhelmed with the need to pummel them clean off.

so she says shit like “you don’t even know how to inspire your left hand, asshole” and considers him lucky that he’s caught her one such a good day

danseur!abby also likes to play rough. likes to manhandle you around once you start getting more comfortable with her. when she sees you struggling with a particularly weighty turn, she cups the hinge of your hip, the curve of your thigh, and takes that little bit of weight off of you. cheers you on with a breathless chuckle of “that’s it, there she is”

danseur!abby finds out that you have a hard time falling asleep, that you’re wracked with some kind of guilt that just won’t shake, and refuses to leave your side until your knocked out. she doesn’t realize how bad it was until you’re ten minutes into 2am and you’re knee is still bouncing up and down while you fight to grasp sleep with sober hands. you’re not sure if it’s the scent of her perfume — clean, with hints cashmere and vanilla — or the weight of her palm atop your knee. you’re not sure if you can’t sleep as per usual, or your veins are a live wire

what you do know it that it’s an innocent gesture to start. she wraps one arm around your shoulder. it’s supposed to be comforting. then she other reaches over and settles her palm at the center of your chest, right beneath your collarbones. it’s supposed to be comforting. but then her palm presses, rakes back and forth over the length of your chest. and you know it’s supposed to be comforting. so why do you hum? why do you swallow a moan so loud that it rattles against your chest and beats up her palm?

and how do you end up with one of those palms between your thighs, legs bracketing her hips and fingers clawing at her shoulders like a restless kitten? back arched deep enough to ride the hem of your nightgown over your ass and expose your needy form while you search for more friction, more pressure, more of HER as she uses the cusp of her hand to smear your wetness all around. you practically dry hump her hand until you’re all tuckered out and she still runs small, comforting circles against your back while you come down against her shoulder.

danseur!abby aims to please, hell she aims to overexceed, and you have proven to be no exception

always saves a seat for her mom and dad whenever she has a show. jerry always tries to reason with her, remind her that an empty seat is a seat that could be given to someone who would really appreciate it, but abby is stubborn if not prepared, and reminds him that “mom would appreciate it, too, if she were here. sometimes i just need a bit of a reminder.” and he caves

he always catches her peeping out the side of the curtains to see if he’s at her show, and he is, flanked by an empty chair and paired with a proud little wave

cellist!ellie, nestled in the pit of the orchestra, also tends to notice, and christens her performance with her middle finger every time she sees her as well

#idk why it got smutty halfway through #but danseur!abby yeah!!!

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maybeinanotherworld · 3 months

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you know, having anxiety sucks and all but i honestly think the worst part of it is how fucking embarassing it is, like...the situations that trigger my anxiety are so fucking stupid

you guys I spent TWO WEEKS losing sleep over having to do a blood test because for some reason I was scared I wouldn't bring my health card (it is on my phone how would I forget!!) or something stupid like that and the front desk person at the lab would call me an idiot and then I wouldn't be able to do it and then my doctor would call me stupid for missing a blood test and then also somehow I would get diagnosed with leukemia and then die- I cannot do this anymore this is so fucking embarrassing

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imperatorium · 1 year

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what stink things did the boys do growing up in the abby

Two and Three got into probably way more physical altercations than you'd guess. Not even like good fights, just like...you know when two cats are in the middle of wrestling and they have that moment where they're doing a very tense glare and standoff, then they just pounce and end up rolling down the stairs? That's what they were like probably through their early teens.

A little bit like this skit from SNL. Minus the hose. Although Sister probably wishes she had one for them, sometimes.

Three figured out pretty early on that he could get attention if he fell down/got hurt, so he did a lot of playing up his bumps and bruises in front of Sister. Obviously she didn't coddle him over it too much (she figured out his game, pretty quickly), but when he was small enough, she would pick him up sometimes or let him sit with her in her office.

One mostly kept to himself, other than the time he spent with his brothers. For the most part, he was a good boy - not too much stink to him. But he did get a kick out of telling Two, Three, and (only by virtue of proximity) Copia all the scary stories/anecdotes/rumours/etc. he'd heard or learned in the Church and then watching them get freaked out or worked up about it. Older brother stuff.

(For reference, I know he's supposed to be like 20+ years older, but I still can't wrap my head around that and usually write him like 6-ish to 10 years older, depending.)

Copia, meanwhile, was typically not really any kind of stink. He mostly tried to keep his head down so that the other boys wouldn't pick on him too much - which only worked sometimes, of course. Typically, any stink he had to blow off would be done so in the silence of Sister's office, when she would let him hang out and read by himself, and it usually looked a lot like his very first video where he's boldly (by himself) talking a lot of shit about Three and Ceremony & Devotion right before he was properly introduced.

#asks #ghost

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fandom-hoarder · 2 years

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[rejected scene; gen weechesters; 1991]

“Boy, what the hell d’you think you’re doin’?” Bobby demands when he finds Sam looking through a cupboard in his study that weekend, practically half inside it.

Sam pops his head out and blinks up at Bobby. “Uncle Bobby, can I borrow a book?”

“Borrow a book?”

Sam nods. “I finished all my catch-up packets and I don’t wanna read The Tower Treasure again.”

“The Tower Treasure?”

“Yep. That’s the Hardy Boys book in Dean’s bag,” Sam answers, starting to dig through the cupboard again. There are small books in there – smaller than the tomes on Bobby’s shelves that look like they’d crumble if Sam touched them – so there’s got to be something for him. But there are also a lot of loose papers and little carved boxes and trinkets.

“Look, kid, get outta there. Don’t you think you’ve been doin’ enough readin’, if you finished that packet already? Why don’tcha go play with your brother?”

Sam stops digging in the cabinet obediently and sighs at the floor. “He’s mad cuz I was in his stuff,” he admits.

“You don’t say,” Bobby says, raising his eyebrows sarcastically. “Well, I don’t have any kid books in there. And your daddy warned me about what happened to the last library book someone checked out for ya.”

Sam pales. “That wasn’t my fault!”

“Well, kid, you’ll have to talk to him about that. I don’t care whose fault it was, but I’m not puttin’ my library access at risk so you can read Dick and Jane.

“Dick and Jane are stupid and boring!” Sam insists, shocked. “I’m eight, Uncle Bobby, not four! C’mon, you gotta have something I can read,” Sam does the puppy eyes up at Bobby, desperate.

“Quit that,” Bobby says gruffly. “The paper’s out there on the table. Why don’tcha read that? There’s funny pages in there, at least.”

“I already read the funny pages and Dear Abby,” Sam replies, continuing the puppy eyes.

“Fine, fine, let’s see what I’ve got… Can you read Latin yet?”

Sam’s pretty sure Bobby is joking.

“You have a lotta notebooks,” Sam observes, peeking at Bobby’s desk over the top of the encyclopedia of Egyptian mythology he’s reading. He bet Harriet M. Welsch would be jealous of Bobby’s notebooks.

Bobby looks up from his own reading. “I guess I do. I didn’t write most of ‘em, though. I just collected ‘em.”

“What for? From who? What’s in them?”

“From whom. And that isn’t as important as what’s in them.”

“So, what’s in them?” Sam repeats, fingers tight on the book forgotten in his lap.

“Folklore. Mythology. Anecdotes. Helpful information.”

“Helpful how?” Sam frowned. He loved reading myths, but he wasn’t sure if he would call them helpful. Unless… “You mean like how fables and bible stories tell people how to act? Like the story of Anubis weighing the hearts?” Sam points to the page he’s currently reading. “Or Michael weighing souls on Judgement Day?”

Bobby blinks at him, “Well… yeah, sorta like that. And, you know, uh… cultural information. Historical information.”

Sam ‘hmm’s and continues reading his encyclopedia a few more minutes, but soon realizes he’s not paying attention to what he’s reading. He looks over at Bobby’s stack of notebooks again. “Can I see them?”

Bobby looks at him cockeyed, then at the stack of books. “Maybe when you’re older.”

Sam scowls. “Why is that always the answer? When will I be old enough to know things?!” He huffs his breaths, feeling like the cartoon big, bad wolf.

“I don’t know, kid,” Bobby answers honestly, and that lets the wind out of Sam’s sails.

#me.txt #wee!sam #sam and bobby #fic bits #sometimes i write

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heswrongshesright · 18 days

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Date Bait and Catfish Escapades – HWSR Ep 15

This episode unfolds as a dynamic and ever-evolving conversation between podcast hosts, jaunting through topics from their self-proclaimed status as the most boring podcast, through plans of a giveaway for subscribers, and diving into personal anecdotes and various stories. They touch upon dating, the challenges and strange tales associated with it, including a detailed discussion about conjoined twins Abby and Brittany Hensel's marriages and the legal and personal complexities involved. Additionally, they cover stories around medical anomalies, recount tales of being catfished and ghosted, and share their thoughts on current events related to celebrities like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. The conversation zigzags with tangents including technology advice, personal security precautions against stalkers, and ends on a supportive note for a friend starting chemotherapy. The podcast episode is packed with banter, insights, humor, and a variety of content that spans the deeply personal to the broadly social.

Donate to @veteranwiki by visiting https://veteranwiki.org

@LemacksMedia https://lemacksmedia.com Nóna Phelps - Independent Insurance https://nonaphelps.com

Visit our website https://heswrongshesright.com Sponsor inquiries https://heswrongshesright.com/sponsors/

Social Media YouTube https://lemacks.app/hwsryt Twitter (X) https://lemacks.app/hwsrtwitter Facebook https://lemacks.app/hwsrfb Instagram https://lemacks.app/hwsrig Reddit https://lemacks.app/hwsrreddit Tumblr https://lemacks.app/hwsrtumblr Pinterest https://lemacks.app/hwsrpinterest LinkedIn https://lemacks.app/hwsrlinkedin

Podcasts Patreon https://lemacks.app/hwsrpatron Spotify https://lemacks.app/hwsrspotify Apple https://lemacks.app/hwsrapple Amazon https://lemacks.app/hwsramazon iHeart https://lemacks.app/iheartradio PocketCast https://lemacks.app/pocketcast OF https://lemacks.app/hwsronlyfans

RSS Feeds FeedBurner https://lemacks.app/feedburner Spotify https://lemacks.app/spotifyrss

#youtube #podcast #adhd

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yundk · 6 years

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The school year rang its final bell a couple of days ago. To be honest, I’ve been waiting for this day for a while now; the final month burnout was hitting me hard, and I was anxious to just get away from it all. But of course, as with all things coming to a close, the ending is never smooth, clean-cut. Words of goodbye are said more than once, for we may never get to say it again. Farewell hugs are held tight with neither wanting to let go, because doing so would signal the drawing of the curtains. For weeks, months, we’ve been waiting for the closing scene, but now that we’re at the moment, signing off those pages and moving on to the next chapter of our lives is not so easy. Emotions spill over and memories double back – to the first day of school when I had 36 students staring at me and me realizing that their education, their learning and growth, and their safety, within the school and from the outside world, was in my hands; to recesses and lunches where they would share their snack with me and ask me, Do I like it? Is it spicy for you? (answer was always yes, no); to playing soccer with my students and scoring a goal and being cheered on as if I was the greatest player on earth; to that time Abby brought me eye drops from home because my eyes were red; to all those days I would look around the room to see who is talking when it is just noise from outside; to that day we were assailed by flying rocks flung from the weed-clearer and me still trying to teach holding my clipboard to the side of my face; to those magical minutes of quiet that somewhat feels uncomfortable; to the rest of the million times I would say, “Voices off,” and count down from “3…”; to those sudden lightbulb moments that validate my being here after stressful days of teaching and feeling like getting nowhere; to Valentine’s Day when I became their messenger for secret crushes; to those every days they would interrogate me about my girlfriends and which teacher I liked and would marry. These recollections, now anecdotes of times past, may become shuttered away in this incredible chapter of my life, but they will never remain too far away, for they have etched out a deep impression in my heart. It is goodbye, but the ending is never over until there is no trace.

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abbyindenhaag · 1 year

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a whirlwind tour of paris (i’m exhausted)

Never one to let a good trip go to waste, when Bart returned on Sunday to Boston and piles of work (sorry Bart), I sallied forth to Paris. I give the Eurostar a 3.5/5 rating and assume the plane would have been a 2: it was cheaper to get to the train and I incurred less carbon emissions, but I still had to go through security-lite (boo), and there were massive crowds because a train to Disneyland left at the same time.

Franck gallantly picked me up at the Gare du Nord and -- as he did through the whole visit -- narrated the surroundings with anecdotes and founding histories like a professional tour guide. A light lunch (hummus and toasted focaccia bread -- remarkably good) obtained, and then Franck shuttled me over to the nearby Musee Marmottan Monet. I couldn’t find any Monet anywhere in the place, but it had several great examples of the fashion of the times. If your (lady) nips weren’t showing, or your (male) earlobes were, you were in big trouble, apparently.

There were also various decorative pieces since the museum was in a kind of restored 17th-century house/partment. I thought this totally dysfunctional clock was kind of funny:

For dinner Franck made a particular Lyonnaise dish which was braised white asparagus with homemade chive mayonnaise, also with gnocchi and homemade tomato sauce (yum). I helped shave the asparagus and quizzed Franck about finance. Valerie was busy at work sorting out some tax issues (maybe I shouldn’t say this, but apparently she has many, like 20, investment properties in Paris and she had elected not to declare them for about 10 years because of the high wealth taxes, but now has decided that was a mistake and is trying to correct it, but it’s of course complicated to sort out. People seem to bend the rules a bit more in Paris than at home; Franck also told me without any remorse about how they use the parking permit of Valerie’s disabled 90-something-year-old mother because they don’t like how Anne Hidalgo is trying to push cars out of Paris and want to fight back. I too have been known to occasionally park without a permit, but only for like 10 minutes to do some shopping... I wonder if the pushback is because all rules are just somehow stricter in France. At a later point Franck told me about how his downstairs neighbor tried to sue them because they had changed the layout of their apartment so that Franck’s kitchen was on top of the neighbor’s bedroom and it was too noisy. I mean, I’m all for assigning property rights, but it seemed like the property right wasn’t clear because Franck said it might have worked and it might not have, depending on the judge. That definitely doesn’t seem efficient. Also another neighbor in the building is currently suing the rest of them because an intercom system was installed without his consent. What is happening over there?!?!)

Anyway. Berenice and Philomen were both at home; Philomen is studying for a big exam to get into orthodontic school so she was mostly absorbed with that, but Berenice is in the apprenticeship portion of her education and so had a bit more time to chat. It was nice getting to know them a bit at dinner.

Monday was May Day, aka Labor Day, which was a surprise to good ol’ America-Centric Abby over here. So everything was closed. In the morning Franck took me and Berenice for a walk in the Jardin de Bagatelle, which is basically a large garden the size of Boston Common with about one-twentieth the number of people and infinitely more peacocks. Also lots of feral cats. It’s tulip season so there were several beds abounding in the stuff, nicely arranged too:

Lunch was an incredibly delicious North African lamb stew plus couscous from a neighborhood takeout place. We had also picked up pastries on the way back but were too impossibly full to attempt them after lunch. A thunderstorm then passed through, so I couldn’t resist briefly napping in my borrowed room, listening to raindrops falling on the skylight with the knowledge that I was practically in a Parisian garret. Franck then gave me some Metro tickets and directed me towards the Petit Palais, which turned out to be closed but it was just as well since it was quite a long walk back anyways. I crossed the Quai d’Orsay, walked west along the Seine, crossed again at Alma, went north along Georges V to the Champs-Elysee, turned south again at the Arc du Triomphe roughly following Avenue Kleber, passed the Trocadero and the Tour Eiffel, then made my way through Auteuil (still can’t pronounce that for my life) back to Rue Mozart. It was fun to see people selling lilies-of-the-valley on the street and know that, as Wikipedia taught me the previous day, this was a special Labor Day tradition.

Dinner was definitely good but unfortunately I can’t remember anything about it except for the (delicious!!!! omg!! brie-like) Sancerre goat cheese at the end, because we finally got ~~the pastries~~ for dessert and they were so exciting. My favorite was the signature of the patisserie, called the Eclipse, which is kind of a cookie with caramel on top, then coated with Chantilly cream and then dusted with chocolate cookie crumble. SO GOOD. (In the photo below, it’s the one there are two of.)

The next day, (are you tired yet? I am) Franck loaned me a helmet and showed me how to use the Velib’ bike rental system, which I took to his office with him. The bikes are all electric, which I tried not to use too much but it was kind of a thrill to see how easy it was to go up hills. The bike route -- along the Seine, then into the fashion district around the Louvre -- was full of bicyclists despite the fact that apparently it is Paris’s holiday week. (In perhaps the most obvious manifestation I saw of secularism, Easter holidays in France are apparently split across different weeks by region, such that Paris has holidays this week and next, while other parts of the country had them earlier. Also, both May 1 and May 8 are holidays so many people take advantage to take 4 days off and have a 10 day vacation. Thus, Tiphanie and her family were in Spain and I didn’t get to see them.) I would be a bit scared to bike that route at another time or at a lower level of expertise -- there isn’t very much room and people operate at very different speeds, so there was lots of passing. Plus very little regard seems to be given to traffic markings or stoplights. But it all worked out in the end.

Franck works, as I mentioned, in a fashion district, so there were several interior design stores and textile shops, and in a nearby plaza there was a fashion shoot taking place all morning (which I of course found exciting.) Franck took me through a very cool tiled gallery to the Museum of the Biblioteque National de France. We saw the reading room, where Sue apparently did a lot of research at one time, and then many many artifacts, which will get their own post. I then met up with Franck for lunch (truffle pasta, yum but I couldn’t finish it sadly) and afterwards took myself over to the Musee d’Orsay.

Oh, Musee d’Orsay, you pool of beauty. Obviously since it’s so large I didn’t get to see everything -- not that it’s possible to spend an appropriate amount of time with each work anyway, if you have the physical limitations of a typical human. If there’s a museum in the world I would like to pull a Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler stunt in, it would be this one, maybe 90% because of the beauty of the spaciousness and light from the train station ceiling, but also because I felt there was a very high concentration of good/surprising art.

Ok, so obviously I exhausted myself with that, but then I biked back to Franck and Valerie on the south side of the Seine this time (left bank??) and then Franck and Valerie took me out to dinner at a restaurant inside another renovated palace (they have so many of them). This one currently houses a museum and showroom for the Baccarat crystal house, which is one of four major luxury crystal producers (all facts due, as always, to Franck). The cuisine was very haute; my first dish was a haddock puree (think something that looks like whipped cream but tastes like fish) piped atop a pea puree, with a candied egg yolk; my second dish was veal with gnocchi; and dessert was a tarte tatin. I got to know Valerie a little better this time because Berenice and Philomen weren’t there; my impression is she is fairly consumed by her work except when it is superseded by her devotion to her family. Their apartment is filled with photographs of all the children at different ages; kids’ toys are piled up behind the couch for Tiphanie’s young ones (Tiphanie lives like a 2 minute walk away); and when I asked what was important about a vacation for her Franck said she liked to have all her family with her, like a mother duck. Aww. Also, she judged the plastic surgery of two heavily-surgeried women who entered the restaurant after us, and asked me how common it is for women in the US to have plastic surgery. Unfortunately, I couldn’t provide much of an answer.

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