#anyway it's 2am i spent way longer on it than i ever intended to and i'm ruining my sleep schedule as we speak so GOODNIGHT ILY ALL

[byanyan]

hhhh ran into some issues and my "fun lil thing" became a frustrating lil thing so now i'm gonna just. post it when i wake up. and now writing is definitely not happening tonight lmao

but i'll leave u with a spooky month icon change as i go to throw myself into bed

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: this just might be the steamiest thing I’ve written since I was a 14 year old on wattpad doing god’s work. anyway, merry christmas sluts x

warnings: suggestive but not outright smut, use of petnames, soft!dom Spencer

Orbit

Prison can have longterm effects on a person, regardless of the duration of time spent behind bars. If you were to ask Spencer Reid what aspect of him was impacted most greatly by his sentence, he would tell you it was his brain; more specifically, his ability to think. Now, he finds himself taking 60 minutes to make deductions that would have taken him 60 seconds. Time spent locked in a cage has left his mind feeling like it never left; his skull no longer feels metaphorically big enough for him to organize his thoughts, separate them for long enough to distinguish them. The incredibly open mind that Spencer has always had is most often a jumbled, frustrating mess, which only exacerbates the frustration already found there. That is, until you enter a room.

He hasn’t said it to you explicitly, but if anyone asked, Spencer would be unable to deny your innate ability to help him. It’s almost poetic, the way he views you, like you’re the moon to his planet of thoughts; you calm his tides simply by being in his orbit. By existing in his space, you soothe his mind enough to just think, and he’s incapable of ever taking that for granted.

While he can’t spell that out to you without risking mortification over your natural assistance to him with a brain function that should come naturally to him, you are a qualified profiler who has come to understand - in your own way - that Spencer just needs to be around you, sometimes. And he acknowledges that you have an understanding of this, of course. So, when there’s a knock at your hotel room door at 2am, and you scramble out of bed, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and running to the door to find him standing on your doorstep, the surprise that flashes across both of your faces is not something Spencer had predicted.

You are surprised because you can’t help wondering if your thoughts inadvertently summoned Spencer to your doorstep, still wearing his button-up shirt, tie and suit pants that you’d seen him in when working the case together today. On the other hand, Spencer is surprised to find you standing before him wearing nothing more than an oversized t-shirt, from what he can see, alongside the visible signs of you appearing to be…flustered? Your chest rises and falls with heavy pants, your cheeks are flushed, and your pupils are dilated in a way that perhaps only Spencer would notice, but he most definitely notices.

“Spencer! Wh- Come in!” You stumble over your own words, stepping aside to grant him passage into your hotel room.

He strides past you, a firm frown etched on his face. He had thoughts he needed to organize, hence his untimely arrival, but now you have presented him with an entirely new enigma that is his personal mission to crack.

Spencer takes a seat on an armchair in the corner of your hotel room, while you sit on the edge of the bed, notably turned almost completely away from him while you fight to regain some composure; a futile effort, because Spencer has already ruled out exercise (determining you wouldn’t be exercising at this hour or in this room), stress (because he’d have picked up on an irregularity when working alongside you at some point today), and a medical issue (much to your own present demise, you default to him for any questions regarding your health because you trust his expertise) as probable causes, which leads him to a particularly interesting conclusion, in two seconds flat.

“Is everything…okay?” You manage to ask him, and it’s as though you added that shy inflection to your voice just to tick another box on the list in Spencer’s mind, confirming his previous hypothesis without ever intending to.

“Yes, I just needed to think.” What he previously thought he needed to think about is entirely irrelevant now, but he digresses. “Are you…okay?” Spencer returns your question with the same wording, but without the shyness you so graciously included. He’s still making deductions, because he can’t risk acting on his current conclusion until he knows it to be true beyond reasonable doubt.

“Me? Oh, yeah! I’m fine!” You laugh lightly.

Overcompensating, Spencer makes a mental note, ticking another box on the list found in his mind.

A silence settles between you, one that he enforces with purpose. From where he sits in the corner of the room, he watches you like you’re the most fascinating study in human history. Which, he would argue, you are. The way you squirm, aware of Spencer’s gaze on you despite not even looking at him, has him fighting a smirk. There’s a shared awareness in the silence, an acknowledgement of the fact that you and your…chosen activities, are completely exposed to him in this moment, and he’s letting you simmer in that reality for a moment, allowing you time to adjust to that.

The next words Spencer speaks are very carefully chosen, and in that, they knock the air from your lungs.

“What were you thinking about?” The subtext is so clear he could have left the guise of a question out entirely, but there’s an air of respect in that he elects to ignore the access he has to completely embarrassing you. His voice is too quiet for anyone in the next rooms to overhear, so his respectfully tame phrasing is for your benefit, alone, but the answer he’s searching for is clear.

You swallow, hard.

There is no use in lying, not to a man currently counting the microseconds between every breath you take to accurately profile your body’s responses to this interrogation.

“You.”

And never before has Doctor Spencer Reid had a single word eradicate all 187 of his IQ points. It’s as though he can feel them stacking themselves back up in his brain in a frantic, trembling mess. Obviously, that was the answer he had hoped for, but to actually hear you say it goes far beyond any ability he has to accurately predict his own response, particularly when you spoke with a submissive tone that was not possible for him to miss.

5.7 seconds later, when Spencer has regained control over his motor functions, he clears his throat, grateful that you aren’t looking at him to have seen him lose his own composure momentarily.

“Is this the first time you’ve thought of me outside of a professional capacity?” And the award for least seductive means of phrasing an otherwise very hot question goes to…

In Spencer’s defense, it is much easier for him to speak so formally and from a more analytical standpoint. If he lets his emotions take hold now, he may miss a piece of information from you that could be crucial to maximizing this opportunity for you both.

“No.” You answer, your voice more timid now, barely above a whisper.

In your defense, you wouldn’t even regard it as thinking of Spencer ‘outside of a professional capacity’, because you have a running hypothesis that he’d be a professional in that area of life, too.

Still, Spencer hears the anxiety building in your words - or lack thereof - and what they confess to him. The last thing he wants is to overwhelm you. At least, not like this.

Rising from the armchair he’d been occupying, he takes the few strides necessary to stand in front of you, towering over you while you remain sitting on the edge of the bed, your head hanging in shame.

“How many times?” Spencer’s voice is also quieter now, softer, but it’s far from timid. He’s being gentle with you, but his question is a demand for an answer.

You shrug without meeting his gaze, and Spencer raises an eyebrow down at you.

“Words, baby.”

And those two words are enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

“I-I don’t know, haven’t kept count.” You stammer, heart spluttering in your chest.

“Let me do the math for you, then.” Spencer muses, tucking his hands into his pockets as he observes you with a soft smile and darkened eyes. “When was the first time?”

You gulp.

“Do I have to ask for your words again?” That’s a warning.

“N-No, I’m just trying to think.” You try to defend yourself, your face feeling hot.

“You don’t need to do any thinking right now, baby, that’s my job.” Spencer soothes you. “Was it during your first week with the BAU?” He questions softly.

“…Yes.”

And that ignites Spencer’s synapses.

“From your first day, we were sent on a case that we worked tirelessly on. The first night was spent on the jet, second night you were so exhausted you slept on a couch in the office while I carried on working, third night I had to wake you in your hotel room at 3am due to a development on the case and I could tell you were in REM sleep by then, so you wouldn’t have had time that night, either. That means it was either the fourth night after we met, in your hotel room, or the fifth night after we arrived back home. Do you remember which?” Spencer asks gently, this time crouching down to be eye-level with you, looking at you with what you can only describe as puppy-dog eyes.

“…In the hotel.” You admit bashfully, meeting Spencer’s gaze for just long enough to see a flicker of his resolve crumbling.

You couldn’t even wait until you got back home? Bad girl. But he’ll keep such a notion to himself, for now.

“That’s good, thank you for telling me,” He praises instead, tucking your hair behind your ears from where he crouches in front of you, while you remain seated on the edge of the bed. “And since then, would you say it’s been once a week, or more?”

Your eyebrows furrow at this question, and Spencer is quick to amend it.

“Do those choices for answers not suit you, sweet girl?” He coo’s, watching you fall into a submissive headspace like it’s second nature for you.

“No…Once a week, but not just…one time.” You struggle to say, your voice sounding small, but you’re melting into the sensation of Spencer’s fingertips dancing over your cheek.

“I see,” He muses, trying his best not to reveal the fact that his brain is short circuiting over that information. See? Imagine if he’d rushed into this and missed out on hearing you admit that! He’d have rather been shot. Again.

“How many times is it usually?” This question has piqued Spencer’s interest more than he cares to admit, but he conceals that well.

“…Three.” You breathe.

“And how many times tonight?” His own voice is a whisper now, his fingertips trailing down your neck.

“Two,” You begin to say, and Spencer’s mind is already sounding like a casino with every machine hitting a jackpot in unison, before you add. “…and a half.”

It takes Spencer a solid second, and a second of being solid, to process that.

“I interrupted you?” There’s a huskiness to his voice that was not there before, and when you nod, he clears his throat. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Can I make it up to you?” And while he stands back up to his full height to lean over you, you instinctively fall back against the bed in what appears to be a practiced mating dance between you, despite it being the very first time.

“Can I?” It’s only when Spencer repeats his question that you realize you are yet to respond. In your defense, you had forgotten your own name because of the hazel in his eyes.

“Yes.” No sooner has the breathy word passed your lips, than his lips descended on the side of your neck.

Spencer’s stubble maps a trail down your throat, gently scratching at the skin while his lips leave tingling kisses in his wake. But if you think Spencer Reid’s mind has stopped working just yet, you are sorely mistaken.

“You said usually around three, implying that as your minimum,” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, his lips nipping at the shell of your ear. “-so that’s a minimum of three orgasms a week for the twenty weeks since we met, that’s a total of 60, but we should leave room for anomalies, so let’s round that up to 70, just to be as accurate as possible.” Spencer murmurs. “Is it always me you think of?” He’s incapable of masking the hope found in his own voice.

You nod frantically.

“Words, baby.” This time, that reminder is punctuated by a soft bite to your neck.

“Y-Yes, you, always you, every time.” You shudder. And who can blame you, when you’ve always known him to be capable of this?

“So I’m responsible for around 70 of your orgasms, without ever having touched you.” Spencer almost can’t believe it, but he can hear how smug he is in his own ears.

One of his hands presses into the sheets beside your head, holding himself up, but his other hand squeezes at your waist through the fabric of your oversized shirt, and he groans into the crook of your neck in approval.

“So soft.” He praises, wanting nothing more than to worship at the altar that is you.

Spencer’s fingertips trace the hem of your oversized shirt, the warm skin of your thighs tempting him beyond his previous ability to comprehend.

“May I?” He requests, ever the gentleman.

“Please.” You answer with the best synonym for ‘yes’ in this context that Spencer could have hoped for.

And he doesn’t hesitate. Long fingers slowly raise the hem of your shirt, bringing it up until it’s just above your belly button, and he lays his palm flat against your stomach, the skin fluttering under his touch. While his lips continue to lavish your neck, collarbone and ear, his free hand descends to the band of your panties, but doesn’t slip beneath it. A whine passes your lips when his hand continues its path south, and you feel him smirk against your neck, until his own breathing shudders.

“Oh, baby…” He groans, having never been more thrilled to feel a soaked piece of fabric in his life. “Look at you, look at the mess you’ve made of yourself. Poor little love.” Spencer coo’s.

But when you shake your head, he halts his movements completely.

“What is it, baby? You want to stop? That’s okay.” He immediately falls into a softness intended to comfort you, not wanting you to feel even remotely uncomfortable or upset. His kisses move to your cheek, each one an act of devotion. “It’s okay. Being in a submissive headspace can be incredibly overwhelming at times, and you can always tell me if it does. We don’t ever have to do anything that you don’t want to do, sweet girl. In fact-“

It’s only when you turn your head to meet Spencer’s lips with your own, that you manage to stop his ramble and his entire train of thought.

“It’s not that.” You’re quick to reassure him, not wanting him to overthink about having breached your boundaries.

“Then…what?” Spencer asks, looking into your eyes with the most sincere concern.

“I just wanted to correct you, because I didn’t make a mess of myself. You made a mess of me.” You smile up at him, and the sweetness with which you say something so sinful is enough to make Spencer’s heart drop right out of his chest.

In all his years, he has never understood the sensation of blood rushing away from his brain, more than he does right now.

His gaze softens with both relief and arousal, a sigh passing his lips that evolves into a light chuckle, before his lips fall to yours again, meeting you in a heated kiss. And when Spencer’s hand continues its previous path, he feels your thighs part, and a growl of some description rumbles in his throat.

“That’s my girl.”

That possessive title causes a delighted shudder to rock through you, which Spencer makes a prominent mental note of.

“70’s the number to beat.” He whispers in your ear seductively, and your jaw falls open.

“In one night?!” It’s more of a squeak than a question, but it makes Spencer laugh into the crook of your neck as his lips descend it.

“As much as I’d love to ruin your body for anyone other than me, I think that just might ruin you entirely, which isn’t my aim. But…” He bites at your neck. “I can promise you, you’re getting more than three.”

From where you lie, you can feel something pressing against your thigh that tells you it’s going to be a very, very long night.

[pink-flame]

WFW, JUKE, FLOWER FIELDS 💕

One more for tonight! Well, this morning since it’s almost 3am. ANYWAY...this is a lot longer than I intended for it to be and it’s almost certainly not what you wanted when you came up with this prompt but it’s where my mind went. So in the immortal words of Luke...*ba da*! Hope you enjoy it anyway my friend! 💜

After spending months trapped in a garage in the 90s, it was the simple pleasures that really stuck out to Julie now that she was home.

Of course being reunited with her family and Flynn along with the knowledge that her boys were alive and well and hers to keep were the biggest perks of this new version of her existence. But that didn’t mean she didn’t fiercely appreciate some of the things she used to take for granted about existing in 2020.

There was the comfort and convenience of having a working cell phone, all of the best and worst parts of modern living within easy reach at all times. There was the fact that she was no longer subject to the whims of Beatrice’s radio or Bobby’s tapes when she wanted to listen to music, but could simply search up anything her heart desired on Spotify. And there were the movie nights that had been started with her and Flynn in the original 2020 but had now expanded to include Carrie and the boys in this new reality. They watched action movies, and horror and comedies all crowded around the tv in the living room, Julie often pressed up against Luke’s side, his arm sliding easily around her shoulders now that they were finally together.

Still. There were a few movies Julie didn’t bother suggesting, too embarrassed to try to introduce some of her personal favorites to the group. There were the romantic comedies she thought might make the boys roll their eyes, and the documentaries she thought might bore them, and then there was her absolute favorite movie which she was pretty sure they would find unintentionally hilarious and that would be too soul crushing to ignore. So she never suggested it, even when it was her turn to pick the movie, only pulling it up on Netflix when she was unable to sleep at night or on a rare weekend she had an afternoon to herself.

Of course, she should have known better than to think it was ever safe to think she could keep anything from Luke, even something as innocuous as her questionable taste in movies.

She was curled up in her bed one night, the only light in the room coming from the glow of her laptop as she watched her favorite comfort film for about the hundredth time when suddenly there was a sound at her window. Julie just about jumped out of her skin and barely managed to hold down the shriek that wanted to escape when she realized it was Luke whose outline had appeared in her window. She clutched at her chest as her heart slowly returned to a normal speed but she still jumped up and hurried to open the window for him, stepping aside as he slid a little clumsy down to stand on her bedroom floor.

Luke wasn’t exactly allowed to climb through her bedroom window in the middle of the night but she was also pretty sure her dad knew it happened from time to time and chose to turn a blind eye out of trust. She appreciated that usually. Not so much when her boyfriend was on the verge of giving her a heart attack.

“You couldn’t shoot me a heads up text first?” She scolded as Luke trailed after her like an eager puppy as she returned to her spot on the bed.

Sometimes she swore Luke’s soul somehow knew deep down that it was intended to exist in an era without easy communication. He had a terrible tendency not to use his cell phone unless he absolutely had to.

Luke just gave her a sheepish “sorry” before crawling onto the bed next to her, instantly curling his body around hers so she could rest her head on his chest while her eyes drifted back to the movie still playing on her laptop. She was so wrapped up both in her attempts to calm down and Luke’s arms that it didn’t hit her at first that the movie playing was the exact one she had been embarrassed to let Luke catch her watching. Which admittedly, seemed a little dumb now. If she let him see her in her monster feet slippers why should she care if he knew she liked a kind of movie Flynn had once charitably labeled “cringey”.

“Uh...Jules? I think I’ve forgotten how to speak English.”

Julie stiffened as she realized her mistake but decided the only way through was to play it cool.

“You didn’t forget how to speak English,” She assured him. “They’re not speaking English. It’s a Bollywood movie. It’s in Hindi.”

“Oh,” Luke was silent for a moment. “What’s Bollywood?”

So then Julie had to explain to him that Indian cinema (which included more than just Bollywood but she couldn’t get into all of that) produced way more movies every year than Hollywood did and that the movie they were watching Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge had been playing in one theater in India for 25 years straight.

“That’s...impressive,” Luke said, his eyebrows raising as he glanced back at the screen. “So what’s it about?”

So then Julie spent probably way too much time describing the love story and all of its surrounding elements to him, and then he wanted to start the movie over so he could see it from the beginning, and then she realized that she had forgotten to tell him that almost all Bollywood movies were musicals and before she knew it, it was 2am and they were only half way through the movie.

Julie couldn’t help but let an involuntary yawn escape.

Luke was clearly trying not to echo her yawn but in the end he failed.

“Bollywood movies sure are long, aren’t they?”

Julie could only nod.

She was just about to suggest he head home and they try to finish it another time when she realized her favorite scene was starting.

“Oooh, this is the best part,” She said excitedly, slapping his arm so he would pay attention.

On screen Raj and Simran ran to each other across a field of beautiful yellow flowers, embracing each other in pure joy after being separated.

Julie couldn’t help but let a little bit of a stupid smile slide onto her face. So she was a sucker for a good romantic moment, especially between a couple who the universe seemed to want to keep apart. So sue her.

“Where are these fields of just flowers?” Luke asked, breaking the moment. “I’ve never seen a whole field of flowers, have you?”

Julie sighed. That was his takeaway?

“I think they’re actually mustard plants,” She offered.

“Mustard is from a flower?” Luke said in a tone of wonder.

“It’s from the seeds and then they...you know what that’s not the point,” She grumbled, slightly annoyed with her boyfriend’s lack of affinity for the pure romanticism of it all.

Luke must have sensed her quickly fouling mood and the reason behind it because he suddenly wrapped his arms more snugly around her.

“Hey, Julie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d run across a field of flowers to hug you any day.”

Julie didn’t reply, just snuggled further down into Luke’s arms, and returned her attention to the movie.

Maybe they could watch just a little bit more.

[londonskies]

2am conversations are for feelings.

Harry and Reader like their 2am conversations, but tonight's conversation doesn't leave them with that much words to say. At all.

The wind blew past us as we sat on the roof, drinks in hand and eyes on the stars.

The silence was comfortable. It wasn't always, but Harry was such a nice guy that all the shine of being a celebrity soon faded away, leaving me not spazzing out that I now hung out with my celebrity crush, as actual real life friends.

I had met him by chance. A vacation in a beautiful place led to joining him in a game of beach volleyball to even out the teams.

His friends were the nicest to me too, which surprised me because I was a lone stranger trying to pretend not to see friggin Harry Styles for the sole reason that he looked so happy having a normal day.

After that, they had insisted I join them for lunch and found out that one of them actually worked in the same place as I did, just in a totally different department, and soon, that small connection got me integrated in their little group of friends.

Movie nights and dinner parties, sleepovers and trips out camping as well as going to the beach all became treasured memories for me, but what surprised me was that I found myself having 2 am conversations with Harry. Alot.

As an insomniac, it was normal for me to wake up in the early morning. When I'm alone, it's usually just staring at the ceiling, waiting for either sleep or dawn to come.

But during a sleepover to Harry's house, I found his legs dangling outside of the guestroom I had stayed in. Since then, it was sort of tradition for me and him to find each other in either the roof or whatever secluded place we could find, if we were awake in the wee hours of the morning. (Which, I almost always was anyway)

Today was no different. With the house party in full swing downstairs, I had decided that I had had enough of the loud music and sweaty bodies and alcohol. Grabbing a bottle of iced tea from the fridge, I snuck to the roof outside of the host's bedroom window, finding that Harry was already there and watching the stars.

I joined him without a word, smiling as he acknowledged my presence with a smile and looking back to the stars with a swig of whatever drink he was holding.

The silence was calming. The wind cooling my skin from the heat of the party, paired with the quiet sounds of the night and the quake of the booming party music from far away.

Some days we had too much to tell each other, but sometimes, the company was all that we needed. Today seemed to be one of those days.

The music was waning when one of us finally spoke without looking at the other.

"It hurt."

My silent look to his side profile made him continue what he was saying.

"When he broke up with me."

Instantly, I knew who he was talking about. Louis, his best friend, or, was his best friend.

It hadn't taken too many 2am conversations for me to open up about my lovelife (or lackthereof) and soon, he had dropped the bomb on me.

He and Louis had been together once.

In the early days of the band, he had been absolutely taken by the loud and charismatic personality that Lou had. They circled around each other like a moth to a flame, instantly clicking together and becoming closer that anyone had ever imagined.

So when Lou had mentioned that he wanted to explore his sexuality, Harry had eagerly jumped up to the plate and volunteered his help. A decision that later resulted to his heart getting broken.

Louis breaking up with him had not been an easy decision, Harry had explained when he saw my reaction when he gave me that little nugget. I had been livid at the thought of someone hurting him, even if it was done by someone I looked up to.

In the first place, he had said, falling into the relationship was easy for both of them. The motions were easy, moving together was easy, the gestures, the words, everything was easy.

But Louis had soon realized that he hadn't been in love with Harry, only at the thought of being in a relationship with someone.

And that had taken a long time for him to get it off his chest. He didn't want to hurt Harry, who clearly loved him with all his heart, and whom he loved just as much back, just not in the way that Harry did.

Eventually though, it had happened. He had gotten home to Louis wringing his wrists, looking extremely distressed, tears already dried on his cheeks but still being accompanied by more new ones from his already red rimmed eyes.

He had adorably (Harry's words, not mine, but I am inclined to agree in the premise of my imagination) blubbered apologies left and right, incoherent words sprinkled far apart and scarce, but Harry had understood.

And he let Louis break up with him.

They had spent the night on the couch, reminiscing memories and intimate touches, and when they woke, it had become official. They were no longer together.

Louis had Liam to go to after they broke up, and Harry started to go to Zayn for the deep conversations and to Niall for the laughs. They hadn't intended to drift away from each other, but they soon did.

They were still pretty close to each other, but not to the extent that they were before they became a couple. And it had hurt Harry more than he cared to show anyone.

And then with everything happened and between Taylor, Eleanor, Brianna and Freddie, Zayn leaving and the extended hiatus and the solo careers, Harry hadn't let himself hurt.

Even when he dropped the Larry bomb at me, he had seemed resigned to his fate, like it didn't matter, like it was just a passing memory that he decided to tell me.

But it seemed like tonight was gonna be different.

I silently reached over his free hand and squeezed gently, letting him know that I understood and wouldn't press him for more than what he would let me know.

He paused for a little while, like he was gathering strength to continue, and I just waited patiently, letting him take his time.

"It hurt that he couldn't love me in the way that I loved him."

The waterworks shouldn't have surprised me, he was hurt and he was allowed to cry about something even if years had already passed, but it did, and all I could muster up to do ws hug him and hold him tight, as if I was trying to keep the pieces of his soul together.

"Why does it still hurt?" He squeezed me back, fingers scrunching the back of my oversized sweater along with my hair, and I let him.

I let him hurt, and I let him feel. Because he hadn't allowed himself to and I'd be damned before I stop him from doing just that.

My voice cracked as I spoke, but I pushed on. "Because you've been bottling it up for so long, and it's okay. Now you can let youself hurt, you let yourself feel, then you can let yourself move on."

His tears fell onto my shoulder, leaving it damp and cold, but I let him. "What if I don't want to?"

"Don't want to what?" I cracked a smile, knowing exactly what he meant, but knowing that this was his way of coping.

"To move on."

"That's okay too. But someday you will, and that's all that matters."

I felt him smile into my shoulder and sniff, brushing the tears away from his eyes first but then breaking back down and sobbing. He didn't say anything after that, just tears and hugs and squeezing each other to remind each other that we were still there.

My heart ached for him, but I knew that that was just how it had to go. Louis had not intended to hurt Harry, but he did, but that was okay. And Harry was okay. He was just letting himself feel. And I let him.

We hadn't noticed the music turning off, or our friends shooing the other guests out and saying goodbye, stumbling to their rooms on their drunk asses, crashing into bed. We hadn't noticed falling asleep on the roof, clinging to each other like a lifeline.

But when we woke up, we smiled and went down for breakfast, like 2am stayed at 2am and now all was well.

[mylutteoheart]

Can You do a fanfic about matteo eats with the valentes and Alfredo and Miguel are joking al the time About matteo and he is very nervous

First of all, I know this has been in my inbox for over a year and I’m really sorry for that. Secondly, it’s not exactly what you requested but hopefully I can make it up by putting a lot of fluff in this. I wanted to add more but my brain didn’t work with me since it apparently only focuses on the pain I’m feeling right now.

I loved the concept of them being a couple while living in the mansion so I just wrote this. I’m happy to have finally finished this, this means I can focus on my make up exam because I really can’t fail this time.

Also the title is from a flemish song called ‘De mooiste liefde ooit’ by spring and it actually sounds a lot better in dutch. Anyway enjoy and sorry for the delay again.

Word count: 2.5k

What we’ve been through. What you have given me. Something you never forget.

find my other fics here

🌙🍓

Luna and Matteo stared at each other for a while, they were both smiling. Matteo kept looking back and forth between the ring and her eyes. He didn’t believe what was happening and really hoped he wasn’t dreaming. But there she was, with the ring he gave her in her hands and a very confident smile. 

“What do you want to tell me?” he asked again.

“I love you.” it’s the only thing she said.

Matteo’s mouth opened a little in surprise: “What?”

“I love you.” She said again while still being in the same position as before this confession.

“But you’re with Michel.” he said a bit sad while processing what just happened.

“What? No, of course not. Who told you that?” she frowned.

“I saw you two kissing.” he couldn’t hide the pain on his face. This made her laugh a little and this got Matteo confused. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry but that didn’t happen. Okay, it did happen but I didn’t want to, he kissed me and I didn’t want to.” she explained to him.

“Really?” his face lit up. She just smiled and nodded. “I love you too, Luna." 

They looked at each other with a satisfied smile, they were happy to confess their feelings to one another. Luna was tired of waiting so she slowly stepped closer to him. He watched her. Before he knew it, her hands were on his face and her lips were on his. It took him off guard so he didn’t kiss her back until later. He slowly closed his eyes to get lost in this moment. He put his hands on her waist while she caresses his cheek with one of hers. The kiss got deeper and deeper. The kiss felt desperate on both sides like they’ve been waiting for this forever and it was true. They didn’t break apart until they both needed to breathe. Even when they pulled apart, they still stayed close by letting their foreheads touch. They both had smiles from ear to ear on their face. They were truly happy at last. 

"Promise me we will never be apart again.” she said in a desperate voice.

“I promise, chica delivery.” he asked while taking her in his arms. Her head rested on his chest while his chin rested on her head. They were holding each other so tight, it seemed almost impossible to breathe. They didn’t want to let go either.

They spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and holding each other until it was time to head home for dinner. 

They walked hand in hand to the mansion. They haven’t told anyone about them yet so it sure was going to be an interesting evening. But all Matteo could think about was that he’s finally here with her again and he hasn’t felt this happy in a long time. Everyting was perfect for him. His career was going great, he had friends who support him and he’s with the girl he loves. 

Luna stopped in the front door of the house to take a deep breath to gather her courage to tell everyone what happened. Matteo noticed this and he said: “It’s going to be okay, Luna, I’m here with you.” he squeezed her in the hand and they walked in together. 

Everyone was already sitting down at the table. Including Alfredo and her parents. Before they walked into the dining room, he looked down at her and saw the panic spreading on her face. He put his arm around her shoulder to show her he’s there to support her and a bit of stress was gone. 

She got to the room before she would loose all her courage and he had no choice but to follow her, he surprisingly hid it well that he was nervous as well but he wanted her to feel comfortable so they could both tell her friends and family.

She awaited everyone’s reaction when they walked in and he having his arm around her. Everyone stared at them and had no idea what to say. Simón and Pedro were smiling, realizing that they’re a couple again. Michel had a face of jealousy on, which made Matteo smile brightly while Luna looks at him with a stressed look on her face. Alfredo had a smile too and her parents looked very surprised. 

“So does that mean you’re back together?” Simón was the first one to say something. 

“Yes, Luna is my girlfriend.” he smiled down at her while bopping her nose. Tension still shown on her face.

“I’m glad to hear you made up.” Monica finally reacted and Miguel nodded in agreement. Luna was relieved to know that her parents approve of them. Simón went to sit on another chair to let Luna and Matteo sit next to each other. 

During the entire dinner, they seemed to forget about the rest that’s sitting at the table. They were laughing and throwing jokes around. He even fed her a little because he thought it would be fun. When Luna finally realize she made some people uncomfortable, she turned around to sit straight at the table. She couldn’t stop herself from blushing and Matteo looked at her with a look full of love. He went to do the same afterwards after she gave him a warning look. 

But despite her warning, he still held her hand in his under the table so no one could see it and this made them both smile. They were like this for the rest of the dinner. 

After a while, it was time to go to bed and they haven’t seperated from each other all evening and they hated that they had no choice but to be apart now. Matteo didn’t want waste any more time, they’ve been apart for so long and they both suffered so much. 

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look in your pjs?” Matteo said as she was ready to go to her room. He still stayed in the mansion to wish her a good night. 

His compliment made her blush and Matteo was content with his accomplishment, he always loved how he made her blush, it really was the most adorable thing to him. “You look quite nice in your nightwear too.” They both smiled like idiots at each other. 

He approached her and she did the same thing. They hugged each other tight. Then, he put a hand on her cheek and carressed it, he slowly leans in and gives her a quick peck on the lips. But she didn’t want to let go, when he tried to pull apart, she pulled him closer and their kiss was a few seconds longer than he intended it to be. Then they pulled apart once again but their lips lingered as they wanted to feel each other’s touch. They hugged each other one last time and then they went to their own room.

Before she was out of sight, he turned around and said: “Don’t dream too much about me, chica delivery.” he added a wink once she turned around as well. She gave him a smile and shook her head, she went upstairs afterwards.

It was 2am and Matteo couldn’t sleep, it was just too hard knowing his girlfriend was so close to him. Even though they were on the same property, he still missed her whenever he didn’t see her or whenever he couldn’t hold her close in his arms. At least the knowledge of them being a couple again kept him warm at night but it still wasn’t enough so he decided to get a warm cup of milk in the kitchen.

What he didn’t expect was to see Luna doing the exact same thing. She was surprised to see him as well. “Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked and he just nodded. “I’ll put a cup of milk in the microwave." 

"So why can’t you sleep?” he asked her.

“I just had a bad dream.” she answered, trying to hide her eyes that are being filled with tears.

“Tell me. But only if you want to, of course.” he added to make her feel comfortable.

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.” tears started to stream down her face and it broke his heart in a thousand peaces.

He wiped her tears away with his fingers. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m here for you.” he took her in his arms as she started to sob. He held her as close as he could. 

When her sobs seemed to fade, she pulled away and said: “Thank you.”

“No problem, you know I’m here for you for whatever you need.” an idea came to mind. “You know, I know a way to distract you from all of this.” his lips formed a smirk.

“You do?” she frowned.

“Do you trust me?” he asked and she nodded. “Then close your eyes.” she obeyed him.

Softly, he put his hands on her cheeks and leaned in slowly. His lips touched hers and when she realized what he was doing, she started to kiss him. He kissed her back in less than a second. The kiss always got deeper until the point has come that they were making out. They got lost into each other. Forgetting their surroundings. Eventually, he lifted her up and put her on the kitchen counter to be able to kiss her better. It even got so far as using their tongues. 

Before they knew it, someone was clearing their throat behind them and they had no choice but to stop. Matteo was a bit annoyed but acknowledged it wouldn’t be a good idea to continue.

When he turned around, he saw it was Alfredo and he saw Luna blushing behind him. There was an awkward silence now and to break this awkward moment, he said: “I should get back to bed.” he gave her a wink and a smile and then took his cup with him and left the two alone.

He waited until he left to be able to talk to her before she goes back to sleep. “I guess maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.” he admitted.

“You’re unbelievable.” she commented with a smile.

“Unbelievably irrestisible, I know.” he smirked again. After a minute, he got serious again: “Will you be able to sleep?” he was really worried now.

“I don’t know but I’ll try.” she said with a sad tone.

“What if I help you go to sleep?” he asked her. She looked confused at him. He continued: “I might have an idea but I’m not sure if you’ll like it." 

"I’m open to anything.” she said, encouraging him.

“Then maybe we should go to your room to not wake up anyone.” he said casually, she panicked a little, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything your parents don’t approve of.” she agreed but she was still worried.

They went to her room together and he asked her to go back to bed. She put the covers over herself. He went to lie down next to her. He put one arm around her and he slowly started to sing Quiero Verte Sonreír to her. He did it with a soft voice and Luna was able to close her eyes. Slowly, she fell asleep. When he was about to leave, she took his hand tightly in hers so he had no way to escape. He smiled as he watched her sleep until he fell asleep himself. 

She woke up once again this night but Matteo managed to calm her down again. Finding all the sweet words to say to her and it eased her. She was able to sleep for the rest of the night.

Monica was the one to wake up Luna but her mome didn’t expect to find Matteo next to her.

They were both already awake when Monica entered but they were still in bed. All Monica did was putting on a surprised face and then she left, not knowing what else to do.

Luna and Matteo started laughing after this, it must have looked really weird to Luna’s mom.

“Chico fresa, it’s time to get up.” she said as she was already doing so.

“No, I want to stay in bed with you.” she turned around to look at him and he used his puppy eyes, knowing very well that Luna couldn’t resist this.

“We can’t, I have to get to school.” she tried to avoid his gaze. He sighed, knowing he can’t argue with that.

“At least give me a kiss before you get ready.” He knew he was being a bit clingy but he didn’t care and he knew she loved it when he was like this. She meant to give him a quick peck but he held her so she couldn’t pull away and the peck turned into a deep but brief kiss. She left her room after this, he watched her walk out.

He was dragging to go and eat breakfast because he had no idea what her family was going to stay about what they saw.

Unfortunately for him, her parents and Alfredo were sitting at the table with Luna and they seemed to have been waiting for him to come down.

“I hope you slept well last night.” Miguel began as he clearly knew what just went down in Luna’s room.

“I did, thank you.” he tried to stay polite but he got nervous nevertheless.

“I also heard you couldn’t let go of Luna.” Monica said. His cheeks turned red and Luna’s did too.

“Sir…” he was playing with his fingers due to being really nervous. “I didn’t mean to…”

Alfredo interrupted: “It’s okay, we get it.” the man gave him a smile and he let out a breath in relief.

“I should go to school.” Luna finally said and she stood up.

Matteo did as well: “I’ll accompany you to the door.” she gave him a smile and intertwined her fingers with his. They walked to the front door together.

They paused when they got there and turned to look at each other. “Have a nice day, chica delivery and don’t get too distracted by thinking about me.”

“I’ll try my best, chico fresa.” they smiled and he kissed her on the cheek and then she left to go to Blake.

He stayed at the front door to watch her leave. While he looked at her, he thought about how amazing these past 24 hours were. They were full of happiness and he hasn’t felt this happy in a long time. He still couldn’t believe his own ears whenever he called Luna his girlfriend and whenever she called him her boyfriend, it sounded like music to his ears.

He wouldn’t change anything about his life right now, he’s just filled with happiness and he was sure that this entire situation isn’t going to change anytime soon. Because for the first time in a long time, he saw a beautiful future in front of him filled with laughter, love, her smiles, their kisses, their happiness and that’s all he ever wished for.

[heartbreakdolan]

Beautiful Things (G.D.)

based off Tori Kelly’s song Beautiful Things. HIGHLY RECOMMEND listening to it while you read this. It’s such a beautiful, sad song.

I’ll probably go back and edit this later bc I’m not 100% happy with it, but I wanted to get this up.

Summary: Graysons been away for months, and both him and his girlfriend worry things won’t be the same when he gets back.

Warnings: just some angst, and it’s kinda sad

You woke up, rolling over to check the time on your clock.

8:24

You groaned, wanting to still be asleep. Huffing, you reached over to check your phone. Turning it on, you saw no new notifications and you sighed, placing it back down.

Grayson would be in London today.

You didn’t know why that was the first thought you had when you woke up.

You groaned and pouted, pushing your face into your pillow. It’d be great if Grayson didn’t invade your mind every waking minute. You hadn’t spoken in three weeks. With all the shows, travelling and exploring he was doing, you probably didn’t cross his mind half as much as he did yours. If he even thought of you at all.

~

Dating Grayson was the best thing that ever happened to you. You brought the best out of each other and complimented each other in a way no one else had before. It also helped that you were both madly in love with each other, heads over heels, completely whipped.

Some of the only negative things that came along with dating him were things he couldn’t control, so you felt guilty complaining about it or even mentioning it. Especially to Grayson. He couldn’t help fans gawking and interrupting you every time you went out, he couldn’t stop people sending hateful tweets, and you knew he felt guilty that you had to experience it. And that he was the reason for it. Complaining about it or being upset about it in front of him would just make everything worse, so you brushed it to the side, and it became a kind of bump in your relationship.

You rarely spoke about it, and when you did, it would result in at least one of you feeling guilty or annoyed or defensive and it never ended well. It created a rift and you could feel it growing bigger everytime the issue resurfaced.

Grayson spent the night before he left Europe, for tour, at your house. His flight was the next night, but he’d still have to leave early the next morning. That day you’d gone out to the mall, holding hands as you walked around, until fans came up and asked Grayson for pictures. You didn’t mind, returning his sympathetic smile as he let go of your hand to take the photo, but he was about to leave and you wouldn’t see him for months. You just wanted uninterrupted time with him. You folded your arms and focused on clothes on the rack beside you until he was done.

As he walked back to you, he kissed your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

You smiled up at him, “It’s okay, babe.”

He gave you a small smile, but you knew he felt guilty. “Let’s go home.”

~

You’d been lying in bed together for hours, just relishing in each other’s presence before hundreds of miles of ocean and different time zones would separate you.

You laid half on top of Grayson as he was on his back. His arms folded around your waist, as you ran your hand through his hair, faces only inches apart, memorising each other in that moment. Taking one last good look. It was dark now, the only light coming from the fairy lights strung across the wall, and the light down the end of the hallway still on. Your joint playlist, that you’d been adding to since you started dating, played softly in the background.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said softly, breaking the silence.

“I know. I’m gonna miss you too,” you replied. He was only going to be away for two months, so you didn’t know why this was so painful. You shuffled down to rest your head on his shoulder and put your arm around his waist. You could feel his heart beating, a little harder than usual, but you didn’t say anything like you usually would. It didn’t feel like the right time.

“We’re gonna be alright,” Grayson suddenly said, but he sounded unsure himself. Like he was saying it out loud simply to reassure himself.

You nodded, but didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because you didn’t know.

~

Grayson had been without you for six weeks, and hadn’t made any form of communication in a month.

You probably thought he was such a dick.

Truth is, he was being being a dick to you. He should’ve texted you, or called you. Any decent boyfriend would. But he hadn’t. He was just busy, and couldn’t deal with getting responses hours after he sent his texts, when he was asleep half the time, because of time differences. He couldn’t keep up with the scattered conversations, and about nothing, because there was no time to actually develop a proper conversation. So he just stopped. The longer he went without texting you, the more awkward it was going to be when he eventually did. But he hoped you’d understand.

It was 2am, and he had to be up for a flight at 7, but he couldn’t sleep. You kept playing on his mind. How you made him laugh until tears were streaming down his face and he couldn’t breathe. How you held him when he was anxious or upset and always knew what to say. How you told him when he was being a dumbass. How completely gorgeous you were. He missed sleeping next to you. He missed waking up with you in his arms and your face being the first thing he sees. He craved your touch and your lips. He missed you so much.

He loved being on tour more than anything, but he wished he’d shared it more with you. Now it was coming to an end, and it was too late.

Grayson crept out of bed and onto the balcony of their hotel room, careful not to wake Ethan as he slid the glass door open and closed, and took a seat outside.

He sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. What was he doing? He knew he wasn’t doing the right thing, but he didn’t know what the right thing was. He’d messed up by not talking to you for a month, but even before he left, things hadn’t been the same.

Lying in bed with you the night before he left, despite the countless ‘I love you’s and ‘I’ll miss you’s, he still worried you’d realise how unproblematic life was without him while he was gone.

“We’re gonna be alright,” he had said, but he heard the waver in his voice as soon as he said it. Like it was a question, not a comforting reassurance like he intended. And when you didn’t answer, his heart fell. He simply hugged you tighter and left it at that. After how isolated he’d made himself while he’d been away, not reaching out to you or seeing how you were, he deserved to have his heart broken. He wouldn’t blame you if you hated him and he’d understand if you never wanted to speak to him again. It had been a long time. Too long.

He stared at the moon, a deep sadness settling around him as he realised how small he was and how alone in this very moment. He needed his girlfriend. He needed you.

~

“Spoken to Gray lately?” Your best friend asked you from across the table as you ate lunch.

You picked up a fry and bit it as you spoke. “What do you think?”

She sighed. “Maybe you should text him.”

You shook your head. You’d considered it, but it had been five weeks. If he wanted to talk to you, by this point, he would have. “No, I’ll just leave it. He’s obviously busy. And he’ll be home in a week anyway.”

It’s a strange feeling when you’re both eagerly awaiting someone’s return, while simultaneously wanting to avoid them at all costs.

You could tell your friend was biting her tongue, and thought that your lack of communication was crazy. But she wasn’t about to make you feel any worse than you already did. She’d been on the receiving end of all your teary and angry texts and phone calls, so she knew how painful this was for you.

“I know,” she said. “It’s just, I bet he feels the same way you do.”

Your sunglasses hid how your eyes had glassed over with the painful tears pricking at your eyes.

You’d followed Grayson and Ethan’s tour online, smiling at hundreds of fan photos, videos and experiences all gushing about your boyfriend. The boys were all smiles, tanned skin and muscle in every photo and you felt a sense of pride knowing that was your boyfriend making so many people happy. But you also knew they would have been flat out, and with the hundreds of girls they were meeting on the daily, along with shows, rehearsals, meet and greets, Grayson would hardly have time to wallow in his self pity and obsess over this like you had been.

You blinked and wiped a tear that slid down your cheek. “Can we just not talk about this?”

Your friend sighed, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Sure.”

As she proceeded to change the conversation, your mind drifted to Grayson again. You’d call him, but he was definitely asleep at this point.

You missed him so bad, but things had to work out. You’d be alright, he said so himself.

But a lot had changed since then, and you just weren’t sure.

[asuitcaseofmemories]

Bad Luck Happens in... 65s if You’re Me.

I’m going to tell you a little a story. To be frank, it’ll probably definitely be long because it’s a nightmare and nightmares are never short. Only this isn’t just a nightmare, this is a true story; my true story of traveling from NY to Hefei after my home leave.

The date was June 26th... or 27th, because when you’re time traveling, details like that get hazy. My lovely friend dropped me off at the tiny Elmira airport and I had no issues checking in. I did internally begin losing my shit when the couple next to me was asked if they’d be willing to give up their seats due to them overbooking the flight by two. *Cue the anxiety* .... I mean we’ve all seen the dragging video by now. Save me.

We boarded in Elmira on time, I skipped the coffee and went for the complimentary red wine, because HELP, and because wine. The flight was uneventful, which was great. My friend and I spent our layover walking around the terminal, which I was thankful for because I was still losing it a little... and also because of the wine. If you can’t tell my travel anxiety is through the roof bad.

Our flight was boarded (from Detroit to Shanghai) with no issues, and the attendants graciously were loading me up on champagne. We left on time, and more champagne and food arrived. Did I say more champagne? I tried to sleep but the turbulence was pretty bad the last part of the flight... so I only slept 2.5 hours. (Side note: being hangry and a lack of sleep are two states you don’t want to see me in). Apparently attendance make it their duty to get you drunk if you can’t sleep, which is something I agree with on a spiritual level.

Upon landing we were told that the gate we were supposed to use was “not available” so we had to wait a bit. They decided to have us exit the plane on the tarmac and take the shuttle to the building. Which was great except the down pouring rain pelting us in between the two. I looked like a worthless drunk soggy noodle. I should’ve taken that as an omen, but I didn’t.

We arrived at customs and it was a strange scene as there was a huge line for foreigners and virtually no locals (opposite of what I’ve previously experienced). So it took a bit longer than usual, but we had no hiccups going through. The custom worker was actually the nicest custom worker I’d ever met and I think we could actually be friends now.

We then picked up our luggage to recheck it. Our bags were the last off the plane, despite having Sky Priority (meaning ours should come off first)-No biggie. When we went to recheck our bags, all hell broke loose.

I was told by a frantic worker after she weighed my first bag (I had two), that I’m only allowed to take 20kg on the plane.... mind you combined my bags were 48kg. I asked several questions about what people do in that situation, why I’ve never had this happen on previous flights, why there wasn’t a disclaimer sent when booking the flight, etc. The worker was not answering any of my questions, or offering alternate solutions. I think she just doesn’t like drunk soggy noodles.

I think the Holy Spirit inhabited my body at this moment, because my patience was  non-existent at this point. After about 15 mins of “what am I going to do” ... and thinking of alternate solutions like staying in Shanghai and booking a train the next day to get home... throwing out a bag- fuck that... she FINALLY says that I can pay a fee. BITCH YOU START WITH THAT. Why you wasting my time fucking asshole bitch nice lady???

This bitch lady gave me a piece of paper that I was intended to show at another counter to pay my fee. She had no idea how much it was at DID NOT tell me how to get to this next person. She also took my boarding pass and said they’d print a new one. She said “Next” when I asked for clarification, ugh no you didn’t. Thankfully my friend who was having the same issue, but was given better directions on how to get there by the kind lady waiting on her.

We were told we had to go to the 3rd floor, so we followed domestic departure signs for awhile... awhile... until we literally came to a dead end. WTF.... so we backtracked to our original spot, and we saw this other way,, so we followed that, and got to the 2F but still couldn’t get to 3F. I’m not kidding all the escalators were barricaded closed.

Clearly being two blonde idiots, looking lost as shit, this young man who spoke English asked if we are looking for the 3F too... hallelujah, we say yes.... he had just asked too, so we followed him to this elevator (which we would’ve never found because it was hid like the entrance of Narnia). UGH, this airport is stupid.

Oh but that’s not all. We get to the 3rd floor, go to the counter we were directed to go to and they say, oh no, you have to go over thereeeee. So we go there and we pay. Thankfully they took Visa (FYI- they don’t take US credit cards ANYWHERE in China so this is a miracle), and I paid my fine of $67USD. We asked about the reprinted tickets and she told us “oh no, you have to go in THAT line over there....” I’m thinking we should be going in the Sky Priority line as that’s what we always use, but she insisted it was the long line *Cue internal screaming*. So we waited and waited for our turn and they told us oh nooooo you go to the Sky Priority line, they have your tickets. Well I’d had about enough of this nonsense, so I nicely talked to the sympathetic woman who printed our boarding passes there. Thank you sweet angel!

Oh, but the story is just getting started. We went through security and they were double checking our carry ons... okay. Well they took child scissors from my friend’s bag then sent us on our way. We FINALLY head to gate 201. I look at the sign and see something in red. OMG. They changed our Gate to 9.... even though they JUST printed our passes... okay. We hustled over to Gate 9. It said we were in the right place YES. We went for a bathroom break, returned and they’d changed it to Gate 3... no big deal it was close but that’s annoying as hell.

We went to Gate 3 where we waited for an eternity. It got to the departure time and it didn’t say delayed and I was thinking... “did we miss the announcement?“ So I asked and the worker stated we would now depart at 11:30pm (original time was 10:15pm). A few moments later they declared the flight was delayed and that “the boarding time would be announced later.”

Well at this time I began to panic as we were supposed to have a driver pick us up at the airport at 11:30pm and I didn’t have anyway to call him and say we would be late. I don’t have a working phone number (in China or US), so I also do not have service to message Corey and let him know. So I had to buy internet for an hour just to Facetime him to figure out the ride situation. He assured me the driver would wait, and I was glad he knew we would be late.

So I went to get water and literally this airport is shut down almost completely. I saw this guy looking at a vending machine confused and two chicks giggling at him as he walked away. Stupid me tried two times to get a drink out of that thing, and it ate my money. God damn it. We finally found a place open so I got some water dinner (2 chocolate bars if I’m going to be completely honest here) and tried to chill out. We get back to terminal 3 and WHAT they changed our gate AGAIN to 202. At this point I’m externally about to scream, as this nice Chinese man asked if we were also going to Hefei. We said yes. He told us that he asked what was going on and the plane we were taking wouldn’t be there until about 11:30pm... so at this point we knew it would be awhile, but at least we knew something!

We thanked him for the info and ventured our asses back to Gate 202 area, and finally about 12:15am they announced we were boarding. The whole gate let out a cheer. I’m pretty sure I yelled “FUCK YEAH”, but 6 one way a half dozen the other right? We boarded and no sooner do they said that they had no idea when we would be leaving but they’d “update soon.” Well, the are lying liar heads. In an hour they repeated the same announcement. Since they are lying liar heads, and I was exhausted of their lies, I briefly passed out. I awoke at 2am when they finally said we were leaving. YAHOO!

I tried to finally get shut eye... mind you we’ve traveled over a day so far and I’ve only slept 2.5 hours (1.5 according to fit bit). Well the turbulence was so bad they the attendant woke me up and made me put my seat up... So that was a no go.

We finally arrived in Hefei, and and played the baggage game all over again. Our poor driver had been waiting since 11:30pm (it’s now 3:30am)... and helped us pack our bags into the car. He’s the real MVP in this story.

We safely arrived at the hotel at 4:17am.... Where we ended our travel fun with a broken trolley to haul our luggage upstairs. The concierge asked me where I was coming from and I said NY, and he asked “Is that why you’re wearing slippers.” ... they were flip flops haha.

It is tough feeling out of control and having such a language barrier with those who know what’s happening. Looking back, this is all hilarious and truthfully just a string of bad luck and weather. I was thankful to have someone with me to laugh with and keep me sane. We also met a few people along the way who were kind when we needed it most.

I’ll keep these memories to look back on when I think I’m having a “bad day.” I’m thankful I won’t be making that journey for another 6 months. Needless to say I slept 13 hours straight when I got home. I DID NOT MOVE my position at all or wake up once.

[generationtrygirl]

Day 1 in Madrid: Huge Tapas, Chocolate Churros, and the Heat Wave

Jet lagged, but excited! Standing in the center of Plaza Mayor.

So you want to hear more about Madrid, eh? I didn’t bore you with all my talk of trip prep & somehow taking a 16 day trip for less than $1400 for all travel and lodging through Spain? Great. Let’s get to it.

DAY 1

When we last checked in on Celia and Remy, they were exchanging hugs and Afrin in a small hostel in Madrid. Celia majorly jet lagged, Remy a little sniffly, but resilient. The first order of business was to get something yummy in their hungry American bellies while heading towards their next destination at the Hostel Alvaro. Together, they rolled their suitcases, backpacks on backs, and started a steady uphill climb to the next hostel in the dry 95 degree Farenheight Madrid heat, stopping only for some freshly squeezed juice and a “panepinno toasta” at a spot on the way.

I wish I could tell you Celia lasted longer, that she defeated jet lag with the strength of someone that had just recently left college so all nighters were no-biggie. But sadly, Celia was three years out, and her frail eyelids could not hold themselves up. After arriving at the private double bunk-bed room, Celia resolved to napping for two hours—NO MORE THAN TWO HOURS. And Remy, well adjusted to the time zone at this point, pledged to wake her my 3 at the latest after she herself had showered and looked into planning the day.

Another problem with jet lag from a red-eye is that though one may be exhausted, one also might be too exhausted to sleep. And so Celia lay in her lower bunk, eye mask on, for approximately 45 minutes before finally drifting into a light sleep. What must have been 5 minutes later, Remy woke her, informing her she had in fact slept for two hours (give or take that 45 minutes). From there, it was off to the races.

As the two left the Hostel ready to get their first real glimpse of Madrid, we will, dear reader, depart from third person omniscient and back into first.

The beautiful Mercado!

Out of the Hostel and Into the City!

There. After changing into something a bit more hot-hot-hot Madrid appropriate – some lightweight flowy pants and a sleeveless top, a nice departure from the t-shirt and jeans I’d been wearing on the plane Remy and I exited the Hostel and began to do what one can only describe as guided wandering. A friend of Remy’s who had spent a significant amount of time in Madrid had sent her a massive list of things to do, and we were determined to do them all. Perhaps not that day, but within the three we were there.

We first wandered to Plaza Mayor, which as you can guess, was the “Main Square.” We’d find out on our walking tour the next day that it had been around for centuries, among other interesting facts. One in particular about why the horse statue in the center stank for centuries. While in the Square, we wandered over some headless Matadors & Flamenco dancers, and got into position to take a photo with our heads in their heads’ steads (say that 10 times fast.) A nice woman came by and offered to take a photo of the two of us. As it turns out, she asked for a tip afterwards. And that is how I lost my first two Euros to the Roma. It would not be the last time on the trip. But I think I got away with not losing 10, so that’s good?

The delicious chicken empanadas we shared at the Mercado.

Mercado de San Miguel

From the square, we meandered down to the next place on the list, the “Mercado de San Miguel,” a large classic indoor market with many varieties of Spanish food, tapas, and drinks to try. Remy and I shared two chicken enchiladas first, while she went on to get a goat cheese croquette and some patatas bravas. I had a big cup of freshly cut fruit because between the plane flight and the heat I was craving some fresh vitamin C.

Finally, Remy finished off her Mercado excursion with some Sangria Blanco, but I, not ready to stomach wine in addition to my sleep deprivation ate the fresh olives that came with the Sangria. I was SHOCKED. I am not an olive person. Never have been. These green olives…were AMAZING. Refreshing, not too salty, a nice texture…wow! This is probably because they were just that—very local, very fresh. We later learned on our road trip to Granada that this is probably because most of the Spanish country side (at least from our vantage point) really is just 100% olive trees.

Another cool sight from our first day explorations.

The Search for Lightweight Pants…

The rest of the evening we spent walking around the city, not really knowing what impressive buildings and statues we were looking at as we went (thank goodness for the walking tour the next day!) We also did a lot of hopping in and our of the various clothing shops. I quickly realized that I did not pack right for the weather. Spain. Was. Hot. And also in a heat wave. The fabric of my maxi dresses and the majority of my pants just weren’t going to cut it. I should have tested them out in Atlanta…but I guess I don’t get outside in non-exercise clothes much in ATL.

I found the perfect pair of very lightweight flowy pants at a reasonable 20 euros after multiple stops, and by around 7 we were again hungry for dinner. We stopped at a Tapas restaurant where we sat at a table inside a large open window/doorway. Which was excellent because it provided us a nice view of the street and a cool breeze from a fan. But also not excellent because multiple times we were approached by Roma trying various ways to get our money.

A little wine to celebrate our first day.

One man went so far as placing a lighter on our table after saying something we didn’t understand, then coming back 5 minutes later and demanding money for the lighter we hadn’t touched. Another man, also seeking money, just started talking to me, first in Spanish (which I don’t speak). I then, (UNABLE TO NOT ENGAGE, it’s a serious issue), told him that I “didn’t understand” in French (which I do speak).  I chose French because I’d noticed most everyone in Spain also speaks pretty good English. AND THEN he started speaking in French!

The natural solution in my head was  to start speaking in some kind of gibberish. It was like that scene in the recent Wonder Woman where the two characters keep changing their speaking language, only I was not, in fact, fluent in Ancient Greek, or really anything. It wasn’t until Remy pointed out “Celia. Just ignore them.” that he went away. This was a tip I had to be reminded of constantly.

Can you say fried dough covered in chocolate?!

Omg. Huge Tapas & Chocolate Churros

The food was very good. And also way more food than I expected for the price/th

e name “tapas.” I ordered a gazpacho and a brie/steak toasta. The gazpacho was an enormous bowl. The Toasta FAR BIGGER than the other’s I’d seen earlier. (Although, I supposed those had all been “panepinno” tostas…. i.e. much smaller toastas.) On top of these, I indulged in the bread basket, the wine, and some of Remy’s patatas bravas. Her Patatas Bravas order was literally a dinner sized plate stacked high with fried potatos! Living the dream! Needless to say, I was quite full. I saved half of my brie-steak toasta to have at a later time at the hostel. Because I still had to reserve room for the chocolate churros we wanted to have for dessert!

Not far from the restaurant was a Chocolate Churros shop (that seemed to likely be a type of chain) with all variety and shapes of Churros dipped in all variety of chocolate. Quite full already, I opted for the thin pretzel-shaped churro covered in cooled dark chocolate. A few days later in Madrid, we learned that Chocolate Churros were actually a breakfast item and that we weren’t eating them the traditional way anyways. Nevertheless, these were super yummy.

From there, we returned to the hostel to sleep. Though in bed by 10 (despite the sun still being down), I did not fall asleep until roughly 2am. Curse you, jet lag!

Madrid’s pride game was still going strong!

Even the churros were celebrating!

The Ale-Hop Cow was into it!

What I learned on my first day in Madrid:

I should have packed shorts, or even more lightweight clothing than what I did.

“Tapas” are WAY BIGGER than what I’m used to in the States.

A sleep mask is very helpful to bring for afternoon naps/early turn ins, because the sun is downright on a different LEVEL in Spain

Having a hostel with your own adjustable AC is amazing.

I carried a 40oz water bottle with me around all day, and it was the best decision ever.

Madrid gets really into Pride. I forgot to mention—the “Pride” events technically wouldn’t officially start until four or five days later. BUT there were more rainbows in Madrid than on Facebook in June 2017, and it was amazing.

Just do. Not. Engage. Otherwise you’ll lose money you didn’t intend to, or get swindled, or both. A lesson I would have to learn many times over.

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