i ate too much of this and now i am having withdrawal

Fire and Rain [Enoch O’Connor] [Part Two]

Characters: (Movie) Enoch x Reader, Olive, Emma, Bronwyn, Claire

Summary: Shut away for days now, (Y/N) refuses to even talk to anyone anymore and no one understands why. Pieces aren’t even beginning to fall together and it seems that there’s no hope, not yet at least. It goes to show, though, that a little effort can go a long way.

Warnings: Mentions/implications of depression

Tags: @buckysbaloney 

Part One ~ Part Three ~ Part Four ~

Olive stood in front of the door of the shut away girl. She hadn’t spoken to her in days and felt bad that she had only just noticed her shift in mood. However, she hadn’t really seen her as much anymore. In fact, not at all. It had been a few days, and yet now was the time that she actually noticed (Y/N) was gone from regular, everyday activities.

Olive liked to think of them as friends despite their opposing peculiarities. Olive could make fire at her fingertips where (Y/N) pulled water from the air. They’re elemental abilities was seen as enemies in some cultures, but under the roof of Miss Peregrine, they were good friends. It wasn’t odd at all.

And Olive knew that couldn’t be the reason for (Y/N)’s sudden withdrawal from their happy lives. It had to be something else. The girls weren’t so close but they had known each other long enough to know what a possible issue could be. And so Olive knocked on the door before opening it and entering the room.

The room was dark, lit by the light coming in from the window. The bed was occupied by the quiet girl that no one had seen for days. “(Y/N),” Olive called out gently, her voice nearly an echo on the walls.

There was no response and for a moment Olive was terrified with the thought that she had starved herself to death or something along those lines, but those were just small, paranoid thoughts coming to her head and they were washed away when (Y/N) groaned.

(Y/N) wanted to be left alone. If someone had started to bring her food, she was going to refuse it purely for the fact that her legs worked and she could get her own food. If someone was coming in to ask her what was wrong, she couldn’t really explain it, not even to herself.

It felt like pain, as if aching wasn’t enough. There was an escalation of pain, it seemed. And there was that attempt to try and not think about it, but no matter how many times she tried to dismiss the thought, it kept snaking back around, ready to catch her whenever it could. It hurt.

“(Y/N), would you like to talk?” Olive asked her gently, walking over to the bed. She was concerned, everyone was. It was worrying.

“No,” (Y/N) said, her voice low and sorrow filled. She tried to hide that sorrow, tried to sound like she was okay, but she couldn’t hold it back and she couldn’t hide it. She didn’t turn over, not looking at the redheaded girl standing over her.

“Please, (Y/N), there’s something wrong, I know it,” Olive said and reached out to her. She put a hand on her shoulder. She then peeled back the blankets and looked at the girl as she squirmed in a discomfort. She tried to pull the covers back to her and after a moment’s struggle with the redhead, (Y/N) won and pulled the covers back over herself.

Olive sighed in defeat. It was quite obvious the girl didn’t want to speak about any issues bothering her. She nodded. “Alright, then, (Y/N), I’ll leave you be,” she said softly, watching her for a moment. “But I am always here for you if you ever need anyone, you do know that.”

Then Olive left, coming to understand that maybe it would just take time. She closed the door gently and turned to Emma, who stood not too far from the door. “She won’t talk about it,” she informed her in a gentle tone.

Emma nodded and then looked to the door that opened up to (Y/N)’s room. “Well, I say we give her some time and then I will go in there and try to speak to her,” she reasoned.

Just like all of them, there was more that meets the eye. In this case, sadness had come over their friend and there was obviously something deep and personal. However, Emma was scared that this was more than sadness, that this could be a depression that their dear (Y/N) had fallen into and none of them knew the reason why. They would have to soon or else the entire home could go into a tizzy over it.

At the dining table for diner, all the children sat comfortably, one chair still empty. However, as the days had come to show, there was no point in waiting. (Y/N) was not coming to dinner. This made the younger children confused and they didn’t so much as understand why (Y/N) was laying in bed all day now. This made conversation awkward around the table and for the older girls since they could not get it out of her, what was wrong.

“Will (Y/N) not be joining us?” Claire asked, her voice very soft and very low.

Emma looked at her, her head tilting with a sort of sadness in her eyes. “No, she won’t,” she told the frilly girl simply. She looked down the table to Miss Peregrine, giving her a look that spoke of how she would go to (Y/N) after dinner.

Enoch sat at the other end of the table, watching them quietly. He didn’t have anything to say. Of course he had noticed that the order in the home was disrupted. Of course he noticed that (Y/N), a girl who had stood by any one of them for years, was now locked away. He did not comment on any of it though, deciding it best that he keep out of it.

“Perhaps you could go see her, Claire,” Miss Peregrine suggested as they ate. She looked at the young girl. “She does always smile when she sees you.”

“She smiles when she sees anyone,” Enoch piped in. He just couldn’t help it. When it came to butting in, he did that very well. “She’s the happiest person in the house despite anything.”

“Well, she’s not very happy right now,” Emma interjected, looking at him. Her hair whipped around her head for a short moment before it stilled. She pressed her lips together. “And whatever’s happened to make this happen has to be fixed.”

“I completely agree,” the bird at the other end of the table said. She nodded once. “One of you shall take the girls up to see her then.”

Emma’s shoes could be heard down the hall, there was no hiding that. (Y/N) knew she was coming before the knocking came to her door. She didn’t move though. She just listened as the door opened.

“(Y/N)!” two young voices cheered and the running of two small girls could be heard. (Y/N) glanced over her shoulder at Claire and Bronwyn as they ran up to the edge of her bed.

“We’ll brought you dinner,” Claire said, stating that they had done one of the things she didn’t want them doing. She didn’t know this though and (Y/N) couldn’t blame her.

(Y/N) sat up and looked at Emma, who was holding a tray with a plate of food upon it. She stared at the girl that was one of her close friends. She then looked at the little girls and pulled on a smile. “Thank you,” she said and took the tray from the platinum blonde. However, this didn’t make them leave like she had hoped.

Emma took a seat on the edge of the bed, the two younger girls climbing up onto the bed to sit with them. They watched them and Emma let them get situated, then looked at (Y/N) and got straight to the point.

“(Y/N), you’ve been locked up here for over a week’s time,” she said, her shoulders slumping a bit. She looked at her with that same concern Olive had. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter,” (Y/N) denied and looked down at the plate of food. She wasn’t the best liar, not that she had ever had anything to lie about. She shook her head. “I just wish to not leave my room now.”

“But we miss you, (Y/N),” Claire said, making the older girl look at her. It was as if the girl was trying to look into her soul. She shook her head. “Are you sad?”

The question caught the girl off guard and she didn’t look away from the small child. She couldn’t lie to her, no matter how much she wanted to. “Yes, Claire, but it’s okay. I’ll be happy again soon enough,” she told her and rubbed her shoulder. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Why are you sad?” Bronwyn asked, turning (Y/N)’s attention to her. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked at the two little girls sat on her bed with her.

“It’s not really important,” (Y/N) tried to convince them.

“Of course it is,” Emma said and looked at her with an almost upset look. She hated seeing one of her friends like this and (Y/N) was more than that to her. (Y/N) was a sister. “Now why are you so sad?”

(Y/N) looked at her, her head tilting as a critical look came over her features. Her (Y/E/C) eyes held so much sadness. How long had this actually been going on? Emma stared into her eyes and she felt overwhelmed with a familiar feeling.

“Claire, Bronwyn, let (Y/N) and me spak alone,” Emma said. The two girls didn’t question anything, not out loud, and they got up, leaving the two teenage girls to be.

“Emma, it’s nothing, really,” (Y/N) tried to persuade. She didn’t look at the blonde girl as her eyes were staring at her.

“You’re hurting, you’re truly hurting,” Emma said and shook her head, “so this isn’t nothing. Tell me what’s wrong.”

(Y/N) didn’t look at her. She then snapped her head to face her. “I want feel love, Emma. I want to love someone.”

“You do love someone,” Emma said and scooted closer to her. She set the untouched tray of food aside and put a hand on her shoulder. “You love Enoch.”

(Y/N) looked down at her lap. “But he’ll never love me,” she told her.

A Beautiful Name

Picking up hitchhikers is dangerous, or so I’ve been told. Women in particular are warned to be cautious of strangers asking for a ride. I am a small lady, no more than five feet tall. I should be more careful. I have more to worry about than myself after all.

But when I saw the shivering couple on the corner, the soft snowflakes landing on their ragged clothes, I could not help myself. I ordered my driver to pull over and opened the door.

“You must be half frozen! Come inside!”

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Changed (20 Different Pairings #14- Cain x reader)

Summary: You are in a loving relationship with Cain, who is nothing but gentle and sweet. Until he leaves with Dean Winchester and returns a bit…rougher.

Warning: Smut, spanking, breath play

Word Count: 1800ish

A/N: I am still having so much fun with these different pairings. Hope you are too!

It couldn’t have been any closer to the plot of a romantic comedy if it had been an actual script. Your car breaking down in the middle of nowhere the day after you left your hometown on a personal mission to ‘find yourself’, you not having cell phone reception, wandering down the deserted road until you came upon a house just as it started to rain…

And that’s how you met Cain.

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Switch With Me

Gency week, day 5 - Role Swap!

Previous and next of the week!

I had a bit of a trouble with this prompt, but then I thought Body Swap au! Because who doesn’t love a body swap au. (And don’t lie to yourself, you know you love it!)

And I forgot to mention, but this was partly inspired by Zee’s lovely art and the discussions in the gency discord server! :)

Appropiate tags: Body Swap, light fluff, feeling stuff. (You know. Stuff)

Please enjoy!

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Losing your virginity to your boyfriend Hoya

Scenario: you’ve been waiting to lose your virginity to someone special, and it seems like your boyfriend Hoya is the one
Rating: cute as hell, with a little smut
Word Count: 2934

You’d been dating your boyfriend Howon for a while now. You’d met through mutual friends at a birthday party and since that night had pretty much become inseparable. He was everything you’d wanted in a boyfriend – funny, charming, thoughtful and most of all… really good looking.

Since graduating high school and starting university, you’d had a lot of firsts; your first time living away from home, your first time getting stupidly drunk with your friends, your first part time job. But there was one first you hadn’t gotten to yet, and you felt like Howon might be the one to experience it with – the first time you’d have sex.

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t had the chance to do it before now. You’d had a couple of boyfriends before him, and had long gone beyond the hand-holding and shy kisses stage. You’d even been close to having sex with your last boyfriend, had even got as far as getting a room at a love hotel. But when it came to it, sat awkwardly on the edge of a strange bed with a boy you weren’t quite certain loved you… It just hadn’t seemed right.

With Howon, things were different. He told you he loved you and you believed it, knowing he found it hard to express himself in that way. When you told him you were a virgin, he wasn’t put off by it. He understood why you’d waited and he respected that. Whenever things got heated between you, he’d withdraw, pull away when he felt things had gone far enough. Whenever he stayed over, he was happy to just hold you in his arms and drift off to sleep.

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let-me-entice-you-deactivated20  asked:

Imagine having your first time ever with Sonny Carisi

So I was trying to write faster but I play Hamilton’s soundtrack while I write and I can’t stop rapping it it. Damn.

Sonny’s house smelled so nice, like garlic bread and lasagna. Sonny knew how much you loved it when he cooked for you.
Tonight was in theory supposed to be “the night.” You’d been with Sonny for six months and he’d been such a gentleman from the beginning. But you were starting to get antsy and you wanted to take things to the next level.
Your virginity had never bothered you, society placed so much weight on virginity that you’d ended up waiting all through high school our of fear of judgment. After that, you’d wanted to wait to be in love first, but douchebag after douchebag, that time never came. Not until a perky blue-eyed detective walked into your life.
Sonny was everything you’d ever hoped for. Kind, funny, smart and that accent was heaven.
You’d told him earlier that you wanted to make tonight special, it had taken him a minute, but he caught on. Leave it to Dominick Carisi to take things above and beyond.
As you ate dinner together and drank wine, you watched him fidget and squirm a bit, he was more nervous than you were.
“Sonny, relax. Everything is perfect. Because it’s you. That’s all I wanted.”
He grinned at you, “I don’t want your first time to be a regret.” His words melted your heart.
“Sonny,” you whispered, getting out of your chair and moving to sit in his lap. “Sonny I would never regret anything with you. I love you.”
He slid his hands to my waist and smiled up at me. “I love you too doll. I haven’t ever met someone like you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” you teased, pressing your lips to his and letting your fingers tangle in his un-gelled hair. You loved his days off when he could keep his hair unruly.
When you both finally pulled away, you were breathless and smiling.
“Let’s have dinner later, okay?” You whisper and he is up and leading you to the bedroom in a matter of seconds.

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A/N: Okay so this chapter was originally way longer but I decided to cut it in half bc I love leaving things ending in a cliff hanger and this shit has a lot of angst so get ready, kiddos! Enjoy having your hearts ripped out. (P.S. there will be back-to-back updates, so new BT tomorrow night!)

Word Count: 3K+

Warning: Profanity, mentions of starvation (?), angst !!

There was a state of panic within the Resistance–or at least amongst a small group within the organization. It had been a full twenty-four hours since Leia, herself, had last heard from you. After the twelve hour mark, she had become worried, not receiving a single message from you or even hearing about your arrival (if you even had). “Something isn’t right…” She spoke up to Rey and Luke. “She isn’t gone, I can feel her…but somethings not right, I haven’t heard from her.”

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anonymous asked:

Saw that you reblogged that one Ouma theory where he wears his scarf to hide a chain on his neck. How about some Oumami with Amami finding out about that? Of course you don't gotta do that, just a thought! I also wanted to just say that you're really amazing at writing so many fics and I always get excited when I see that you've posted a new one! They're incredible, but I do hope you can take some nice breaks inbetween too cuz that looks like a lot of work.

Based on a theory by @hellofriend304 (Read it here! 030)


Usually, Amami kept to himself, minding his own business and not butting into anyone else’s, but, there was something rather concerning to him.

It was Ouma Kokichi, the self-proclaimed leader and supposed SHSL Supreme Ruler of a shadowy organisation. The boy was cheery and had a bright smile, but there was a sense of something sinister lurking behind that happy façade of his, something genuinely scary behind that pure smile. It wasn’t just the feeling that Ouma gave off though, no, Amami noted that there was something more here. He clothes for one, were quite unusual.

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In this room I was born. And I knew I was in the wrong place: the world. I knew pain was to come. I knew it by the persistence of the blade that cut me out. I knew it as every baby born to the world knows it: I came here to die.


Somewhere a beautiful woman in a story I do not understand is crying. If I strain hard enough I will hear a song in the background. She is holding a letter. She is in love with Peter. I am in love with her.


Stand on the floor where it’s marked X. I am standing by your side where it’s marked Y. We are a shoulder’s length apart. I’m so close you can almost smell the perfume. If I step ten paces away from you, there could be a garden between us, or a table and some chairs. If I step another 20 paces there could be a house between us. If I continue to walk away from you in this way, tramping through walls and hovering above water, in 80,150,320 steps I will bump into you. I can never get away from you, and will you remember me? Distance brings us closer. There is no distance.


In 1961 I was in Berlin. It was a dusty Sunday in August. In the radio news was out that Ulbricht had convinced Khrushchev to build a wall around West Berlin. I remember it precisely: By midnight East German troops had sealed off the zonal boundary with barbed wire. The streets along which the barrier ran had been torn up. I lived in that street. It was the day after my birthday. I remember the dust covering the sky. I remember being scared. Father had not returned from the other side. The Kampfgruppen der Arbeiterklasse had orders to shoot anyone who would attempt to defect. Father had not returned.


Happiness is simple.
Sadness forks into many roads.


Before the time of Christ, Aristotle believed that the earth was the center of the universe because he needed a stationary reference point against which to measure all other motions: a rock falling, a star reeling through the sky, his heart beating against his chest like a club. He needed to believe in certainty, in absolute space. Without it, the world would not be known absolutely. Without it, the world cannot be known.

Twenty centuries later Hendrik Lorentz needed to believe that every single molecule in the universe must move through a stationary material called the aether, as every human being in his various turnings must move through God. Scientists looked everywhere for proof of this aether. And everywhere they found nothing.


I have sometimes been accused of being a bore. I beg to differ: people laugh at my jokes, and I’m handsome. I would like now to talk more about myself: I don’t like going to airports and hospitals. They make me uneasy. In both cases, somebody is always going to leave. I was born in 1983, and have never been to Berlin. But I have a memory of being in Berlin in 1961. I have a memory of something that never happened.

I would like to elaborate on myself, but you will understand if I talk instead about the sky in Berlin in 1961: it was covered with dust. There were no birds. There was no sky.


Memory is brutal because precise.


She said: give me more space. I said: don’t you love me anymore? She said: give me more space. I said: why? Did I do something wrong? Is there something wrong? Is there someone else? When did you stop loving me? In what precise moment? In what room? What city?

I held her tight as one who’s about to lose his own life holds on. Then she said: give me more space. I said: no.


I have only one purpose: to live intensely.


I wish I never met you
and I wish you never left.

You taste like a river in June.


I’m going to say something important. Look at my face. Ignore my eyes. Just listen to me. But listen only to the timbre of my voice, not to what I am saying. They are different. They are two different rooms. The first is an exhibition of despair, the second only an explanation.

The first is all you have to listen to. So listen carefully because I cannot repeat myself:

“Everything/ one suspects to be true/ is true.”


In 1879 a boy is born in Germany. At age five he’d throw a chair at his violin teacher and chase him out. In time he would develop the capacity to withdraw instantaneously from a crowd into loneliness. At twenty-six he would publish his theory of relativity in Annalen der Physik. He looks crazy, but he is certain: there is no aether, no absolute space.


Sometimes they thought it was the words.
What they wanted to say could not be said.

They fixed the TV, vacuumed the rug,
dusted the furniture, looked out the window.

Sometimes she would purposefully lose hold of
a plate and it would smash to the floor.

Then they would have something to say,
only to begin to say it then stop.


Look at this box. It is empty except for a diary, a book, and this picture in my hand. Now look at this picture. It weighs nothing and occupies almost zero space. I can slip it in anywhere and it will fit: inside the diary, under the box, through a crack on the wall. If I tear it several times, it will occupy a different volume, many and various. It mutates, you see. If I burn it, it will smoke into the air. It will take up a whole expanse.


How many more times
are you going to let the world
hurt you?


My father is an incorrigible storyteller. He would tell the same stories in different ways. I wouldn’t know which ones to believe. So I believed all of them. “There is no story that is not true,” said Uchendu.

Father would point at the TV. He would repeat lines, rehearse the beginnings and ends, explicate with his hands the elaborate twists and turns of every road.

He said: “I am dying.”

I said: “But aren’t all of us dying.”


And I thought the world
was about this leaving,
not about anybody’s leaving
but about this leaving.
The next day it was the same.


A beautiful woman walks into a room. The room is dark. There are no windows. There is one light bulb but any time now it will go off. I pretend not to notice and look away, my heart beating against my chest like a club. If I strain hard enough I will hear a song in the background. What other forms of happiness are there than this?


In 1989 the Berlin wall falls down.


I believe in love only when it rains.


To appreciate the value of land, one need only look into a painting: so much beauty. Buying land means buying the layers of beauty directly above it. It means buying the sky above it. And the birds above it, the clouds, the gods.

In truth you are buying a corner of the universe. You are saying: this is my room. You are saying: I live here. Here I exist.


Your sadness is immaterial. You did
not come into the world to be happy.


You came to suffer/survive.


How many words have you spoken in your life?
How many did you mean?
How many did you understand?


Somebody picks up a phone. He dials a number. His voice travels a thousand miles into another country. On the other end somebody picks up and hears the voice. Who is this?– This is me. The phone is hung up. The voice travels back a thousand miles.

Elsewhere somebody picks up a phone and before he could dial forgets the number.


Sometimes wars are waged because there are too many people in too few rooms.


Memory is incomplete–lost.
The world is incomplete–vanishing.

Nothing more happens. You open your eyes and it’s over.

Memory is brutal.
Memory is precise.


In the next room people I do not know are talking with hushed voices. Their secret slips out the window like a cat. It is raining, and I press my ear to the wall. I imagine that one of them is smoking a cigarette. I imagine that one of them is covering his mouth in surprise.


When my aunt died the doctors said the fat clogged her arteries. Every week she visited the hospital, and every week the vein on her wrist had to be ripped out so a catheter could be stuck into her body to suck out her blood. You could see the plasma pass through a filter and then back to the body. If you put your ear to her wrist you would hear her heart.

Before my uncle died the heart attacks were so excruciating he said he’d prefer to just die. They transported him to the hospital, and on the way to the emergency room his heart gave. Mother said my uncle ate too much pork and drank too much beer. She wonders if he’s going to be happy in heaven.


In some house in some province in some country in some novel there is a story of a man a father a child a lover who dies because of too much sadness.


Nobody thought that what was wrong was the love.


She said: give me more space.

—  Arkaye Kierulf, “Spaces”

anonymous asked:

John and his epiglottis.

John came home to find that Sherlock had cleaned the flat. It was tidy and dust-free and entirely baffling. John would have thought he’d wandered into the wrong home and might have turned right around and left again had he not been greeted by such familiar furniture and the oddities only found in 221B–a cow skull wearing headphones, for example. 

Sherlock’s voice floated out of the kitchen along with the scent of something delectable. “Stop gaping, John, and come join me in here.”

“What’d you order for us tonight?” John called as he hung up his coat and scarf. He turned and padded into the kitchen, stopping dead when he saw what lay before him. The kitchen table was set for a full three-course meal, accompanied by a small vase full of simply and tastefully arranged white carnations, tall taper candles, a rather expensive bottle of wine, cloth napkins, and even a tablecloth. (Where in the hell had Sherlock found cloth napkins and a tablecloth?)

“Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock answered, his uncanny ability to know what John was thinking still somewhat unsettling after all these years.

John grinned up at him dumbfounded. “Sherlock, what is all this?”


“Well, yes, I can see that, but… why?”

“I wanted to do something nice,“ Sherlock responded, beginning to look a bit nervous.

Now John was suspicious. “Did you blow anything up today?” Sherlock shook his head. “Injure yourself?” Another shake. “Set fire to another one of my jumpers?”

Sherlock huffed an irritated sigh. “That was one time.”

“It was a gift from Harry.”

“It was hideous.”

“Yes, but that isn’t the point.” John pinched the bridge of his nose in weary frustration. This was at least the fourth time they’d had this argument. “Okay. Did you do anything at all that you’re using this dinner to make up for?”

“No. Can’t I just do something nice for my… for you without it being an apology?”

“Of course you can. You just don’t.” Seeing the affronted look on Sherlock’s face, John added, “Usually.”

Sherlock looked down at the table and absently played with the place setting. “Oh hey, no, Sherlock, I’m sorry,” John said, crossing the room and pulling his… (His what? They really should decide on a term for that. Partner? Boyfriend? A question for later…) and pulling Sherlock into his arms. “It’s very nice of you to do this for me. I was just surprised, that’s all.” He pressed a quick, soft kiss to Sherlock’s lips and smiled at him brightly. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Sherlock brightened instantly. John knew how much he secretly loved those little terms of endearment, and he had already learned to use them strategically to cheer Sherlock up when needed.

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Few people ever seem to talk about Buenos Aires as a travel destination, and after being there I want to fix that. It’s awesome and deserves *way* more talk than it gets. So here we go!

1. The European-Latin American Fusion

Like the American Heathen/adventurer I am, before going I didn’t do much research on what the city was going to be like.

Did it have Mayan temples? Were there going to be pigs running around in the streets? Was the city going to have, as the name suggests, “good air”?

Well, it turns out that Buenos Aires is secretly a European city.

Like how? You know, it has… European feeling stuff. (See: American Heathen.)

But really, it’s full of majestic architecture, weathered buildings, historic locations, and more. It felt like I had stopped off at a town somewhere on the train between Paris and Italy and ended up somewhere entirely unique.

What’s really cool is it all has its own Latin America twist, taking the European things you love and doing them a little differently. For example, there are sculptures… but instead of a Roman god or Napoleon, instead it’s something from Argentinian legend.

If you like Europe, you’ll like it here.

2. The Food

I had heard about the meat in Buenos Aires. And the rumors are true: the meat is sizzling and tender. But what I wasn’t expecting was the variety of food.

Within walking distance from my hotel was a fresh French-style bakery, an incredible pizza place, and a delicious local steakhouse, all of very high quality.

Speaking of pizza, the thick, cheesy pizza that is now some of my favorite in the world deserves a paragraph all to itself. So here’s that paragraph.

The food was also mixed in unique and different ways than what I’m used to.

I ate Indian one night and it was like bizarro world Indian-Mexican food that was suprisingly scrumptious. Another time, I ate a pepper filled with cheese and egg. How is that even a thing and why isn’t it in more places?!?

There’s probably some history reason about someone conquering someone else to explain all of the influence. However, the only history I really care about is the history of what I put in my stomach, WHICH WAS DELICIOUS.

3. The Price

Not to sound like some kind of miser taking advantage of the economy, but I’m going to sound like a miser taking advantage of the economy.

Sometimes you want to take an exciting trip that’s also economically friendly. Going somewhere like London or Tokyo from the USA means that not only do you have to pay to get over there, but then you’re paying more for everything you do because it turns out those guys can run an economy better.

While getting down there is expensive, once you’ve arrived all of your good ‘ol USD is favorable. Plus, on top of that, the prices for many things are just lower overall than in the US. (Just don’t buy any electronics.) I ate a great 3 course dinner one night for around $14!

On top of it all, perhaps my personal favorite part is that you get to feel like Muneybukths, the Greek god of wealth, as you casually withdraw hundreds upon hundreds of currency units to carry and spend as you feel like some kind of fraudulent millionaire. (The ratio is, very roughly, 100 pesos to 10 US dollars.)

If you’re not from the USA then this may not all apply to you (or your exchange rate might be even better) but you should probably just pretend this bullet point was talking about all the cute puppies I saw and then go anyway.

4. The Subway

There’s a European-esque subway throughout Buenos Aires that runs regularly and is pretty efficient.

And best of all? A single trip anywhere runs for the US equivalent of about 50 cents. FIFTY CENTS! That’s a money denomination so good that they named a rapper after it.

5. The Taxis

So let’s say you’re too good for Subways. “I doth not unclean thine body with thee subway filth,” says you, a member of Shakesperean British Royalty.

Well, good news! There are taxis everywhere.

And while in the US I usually see taxis as a last ditch option, here they’re actually well priced. I never paid more than $10 for a taxi ride (airport excluded) even when I went across the entire city. My average fare was about $5.

They also use a marvelous innovation.

Let me ask you: how many times have you been trying to hail a cab, but you have no idea if it’s open or not? I mean, is this a lights-on-means-open city or a light’s-on-means-closed city? And why did that cab driver with empty seats just glare at you? Who knows!

In Buenos Aires, each cab just has a bright sign in their front window saying whether or not they’re open. It’s that simple.

Now before you say anything, it’s true that can’t see it from the back. However, if you’re trying to hail a taxi from behind, I would recommend lessons on how cars work.

Except for prime time Saturday night at the edge of the city, I was able to find taxis within 2-3 minutes of looking every single time.

Sometimes it’s the little things, and this is a little thing I appreciated.

6. The Language

“Whoa, whoa, whoa Gavin. I was following you so far, but how is this *upside*? I speak American, not Spanish!”

Well, hold up. Let’s say you want to go to somewhere awesome in Europe like, I dunno, how about Kangaskhan.

Well great! But bad news: As we all know, they only speak Kangaskhanian there. And unfortunately, unless you spent intensive time at Safari Zone Academy, there’s a 0% chance you can speak the local language.

With Spanish, you should be able to get around.

Let’s be real: half of you took Spanish in college or high school. And even for the other half, you probably already know some Spanish words just by good 'ol American appropriation.

You claim you don’t? Well:

1. You probably do.
2. “No” also means “no” in Spanish, so HA YOU DO KNOW A WORD!

Is this all possibly biased by the fact that I took Spanish in college and had no trouble talking with people? Well, yes, obviously, but there’s a reason more people watch Colbert than the national news. Bias is trendy.

7. The Central Location

Not only is Buenos Aires itself awesome, but you can access a lot of other places from there.

Want to go up north and feel like you’re at Jurassic Park in Iguazu Falls, one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been? It’s about a 2 hour, $90 plane ticket to hop over.

Interested in checking out a glacier and/or a desert? Head down south toward Patagonia and experience the heated/frigid beauty.

How about Uruguay for a bonus country while on your trip? It’s only a couple hour ferry ride away!

Buenos Aires puts you at the center of all these.

Also, how is it possible that a single country contains rainforests, tropical waterfalls, glaciers, and a desert? My best guess is faeries that do recreational landscaping, but alien terraforming is a close runner up.

8. The Bookstore

There is a huge bookstore called El Ateneo that was formerly a theater. I posted pictures.

'Nuff said.

9. The City *Actually* Never Sleeps

A lot of cities claim to never sleep. Buenos Aires is one of the few that actually lives up to that promise.

Hungry for dinner at midnight on a Tuesday? Well, no problem, every restaurant will be open. No, really, they will. People eat later there, and that means you can run on whatever wonky schedule you want.

Want to dance until 7 in the morning? Most Buenos Aires clubs don’t even open until 1 or 2 am, so you really can dance the night and morning away.

Even some of the museums are open late, letting you visit into the wee hours.

If you don’t want to feel guilty for sleeping in on vacation, Buenos Aires is a good place to be. There is plenty to do all day and night!

10. The Gaming

Maybe dancing all night isn’t your thing. Or maybe, like me, you just need a constant flow of plastic cubes and cardboard into your bloodstream.

Well, to my surprise, Buenos Aires is an excellent city for gaming.

I visited three of the *SEVEN* game shops that exist in the city of Buenos Aires - and there’s even more if you go outside of just the city. They had games new and old, space to play them, and plenty of events to play at. I could have found a game event each night if I wanted to!

Gaming is part of my standard of living - and Buenos Aires passes that test.

11. The Art

You’re more likely to read a list if it says it has 10 things than if it has it has any number higher than 10. Isn’t human psychology interesting?

Anyway, Buenos Aires is a very art-heavy city. There’s beautiful art everywhere you go, in all forms.

Tango in the streets? Check.

Murals on buildings? Yep.

Japanese gardens? Absolutely.

An *actual golden lotus as large as a building that opens and closes with sunlight in the middle of a park*? You probably didn’t know you needed that in your life, but you do and it’s there for you.

And perhaps at the center of it all is Theatre Colon, a breathtaking old theatre that still puts on productions today.

You will not be at a lack of things to see while visiting.

12. The Dessert

Like any good meal, I saved the most course in this information feast for last: dessert! While the food is good, the dessert is so marvelous it gets its own section.

First of all, what you have to understand is that Argentina is kind of known for dulce de leche, which means we’re already off to a good start. You can find that sweet carmel-y goodness in basically any dessert you desire.

But that aside, the spread of desserts blew my mind and enlarged my stomach.

One dessert sampler platter at a restaurant featured tiramisu, gelato, flan, a brownie, and a pastry plus a side of dulce de leche… and they were all exquisite. I seldom see a place do so many different kinds of dessert right!

And let’s not forget the chocolate covered churros sold in the street. It’s like being at Disneyland or Costco, except instead of the wind blowing brown sugar all over your clothes you have a churro covered in chocolate instead.

Perhaps you can see the advantages.

The cherry on top of this gigantic dessert helping is that the chocolatiers and ice cream/gelaterias are *especially* outstanding. I had gelato there that was better than the average of what I ate in Rome!

So when you’re there, be sure to save room for dessert.


I started believing in Santa again because of Buenos Aires.

Cara | Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Synopsis: Loki deals with the fallout of recent revelations.

The story is here: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen |
Cara Mia (one shot which was the inspiration for this story)

Loki/Cara manips: Collection one | Collection two | Collection three | Collection Four |

AN: Betaed by evieplease 

Part Fifteen

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