#‘del why are you always in new jersey’ don’t worry about it

[thesituationroom]

3 11 23 random selection

3. what was the most recent concert you attended?

fall out boy with you 🦩 in new jersey

11. have you ever sat front row at a show?

i’m sensing a theme. i have been barricade at fall out boy in camden nj + at the wonder years in beautiful toronto

23. have you ever flown to another country for a concert?

here is a list of artists i’ve seen in america 🇺🇸🦅: ls dunes, slaughter beach dog, thursday, bleachers, midtown, the front bottoms, fall out boy, and the mountain goats

[godmadeaterribleerror]

I Want You Only - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note:Whatever costume designer put Jensen Ackles in that Giants jersey in S3 you're a hero this one's for you.

Title from Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary/Warnings: You and Ben go shopping. Usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, pre-established relationship, smut (fingering, mirror sex, semi-public sex)

“I’m not fucking wearing that.”

You sigh, turning the fabric of the shirt between your fingers. “It’s a nice shirt, Ben, and it’s good quality, so it won’t tear-“

“I don’t give a fuck about it tearing.” Ben grumbles, half hanging around your body as his chin rests on the top of your head, glowering at the shirt. “It’s pink.”

“It’s light red-“

“It’s fucking pink, Sunshine.”

You try again, angling your head back to press a kiss to his jaw. “Stained white-“

“Pink.”

“Fine, pink. But,” you lean to the side, holding Ben’s glare with your sweetest, most innocent expression. “Why is that bad?”

He narrows his eyes, like he knows it’s a trap but isn’t quite sure how yet. He’s right, it is a trap—Ben’s not dumb, he’s just old and paranoid and grumpy—but, if he listens to you, it could result in an excellent new shirt, some ice cream, and a reward blowjob.

You’re not worried. Ben always listens to you.

“Girl color.” He grunts, and you wrinkle your nose at him.

“Girl color.”

“That’s what I damn said-“

“And why,” you drawl, leaning your head back onto his shoulder as you give a look of mock thought. “Is a girl color bad?”

“It’s not bad-“

“But you won’t wear it.”

“I’m not a fucking girl!” Ben snaps, and you can feel the sore, hot feeling of something like embarrassment covering his skin.

You let out a long, slow breath, tapping your fingers on his arm as you figure out how to work with this. You know Ben isn’t opposed to women as whole anymore—you being a stronger supe than he is and the tenth half-lecture half-joke about real gentlemen respecting that women are better at things sometimes had gotten the message through—but there are still these small remnants of the past stuck in his head. Small reminders that he is indeed a dinosaur, and the change is slow and long, but effective. And you know how to move with these ideas, how to point out that they’re, logically, kind of fucking stupid in a way he’ll understand, but it takes gentle words, an unmoving will, and a flat expression. 

Luckily, you have all three.

“It’s a color, my love.” You say, holding his gaze. “And if I’m trying to buy it for you, do you really think you’ll be any less of a man to me because you’re wearing it?”

He scowls, muttering, “No.”

“And are you going to look bad in it?“

“I look good in damn everything,” he grumbles, and you can’t stop your small giggle.

“You do, you grumpy old ass. And do you think anyone,” you reach your free hand up, tracing your fingers over his beard. “Is going to look at you and think you’re not an overly masculine testosterone factory-“

“I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks-“

“You give a fuck what I think-“

“That’s not the same, I fucking love you-“

“Well I,” you give him a soft, adoring smile. “Think you’ll look very handsome and strong in pink. I think I love you because you’re you, not because you’re a man. I think you should wear the pink shirt, dumb dumb, because it’s just a color.”

Ben frowns, his jaw clenched, but you can feel his concrete resolve fading and crumbling, rebuilding back into pure care and rough affection as his hands start to rub on your hips.

“Fine.”

Your smile grows wide and bright, and you grab one of his hands in yours, moving it to the shirt. “Look, it’s soft, feel it-“

Ben doesn’t get to feel the shirt, because he rips his hand from yours, grabs your jaw, and tilts your head full back for a kiss. It’s long, and hungry, and leaves you dizzy as he holds you against his chest.

I’ll get the fucking shirt, brat. For you. Stop trying to damn convince me.

You nod, a little stupidly. Yeah. Okay.

Ben pulls back with a smirk, and scans over your open features, the pride and love glowing in his body as he swipes a little bit of drool away with his thumb. You’re hungry.

As if on his command, your stomach growls, and you just groan, closing your eyes as he chuckles.

“Stop doing that, Ben-“

“I’m not doing a damn thing, beautiful.” Ben nips at your nose, his grin growing. “Not my fault I know my fucking wi- woman. Let’s get you some food.”

You hum, and grab the shirt to add to your small basket of Ben clothes. Mostly jeans and solid color t-shirts, as well as one Hawaiian shirt to rub in Butcher’s stupid face and a pair of gray sweatpants that you’d been incredibly adamant be added to the collection. It all fits in one bag, adding to the collection of lingerie that’s all going be ripped off your body before the week is over, boring men’s boxers, and the makeup you don’t need but had fun explaining to Ben.

He’s carrying the rest of it—your clothing—because there’s more of them. The lingerie and makeup fit in tiny paper bags barely bigger than your forearms, and Ben’s boxers get stuffed in his still-small bag of clothing, but you have at least five bags of mostly cheap, poor-quality shirts and shorts and pants and skirts. It’s by design—clothing tends to be the most frequent victim of the fire aspect of your powers—but you still don’t love it. You don’t love how nothing in those bags feels like you. You don’t really need anything expensive or permanent, but you’d like to feel like you, at least a little.

You always feel like you with Ben. Under his attention or trading teasing words or tucked into his side. He guides you out of the shop, and you let him lead you through the mall, find a place that serves what he deems to be acceptable food—even if there are no burgers—and sit you down at a small, fancy table. He keeps some part of himself on your body the whole time, whether it’s a hand on your waist, or an arm over your shoulders, or a knee pressed a little between your legs. It’s a little intoxicating, and does absolutely nothing to help you focus on anything but Ben.

But you don’t need to focus on anything but Ben right now. This week is just for you both to do stupid things like shop and touch each other and eat. All you need to spare thought to is Ben, big and warm around you, certain and attentive across from you, so fucking handsome and strong and always good. Grumpy and old, but good.

All yours, and good.

“I’m proud of you,” you hum, watching him all but inhale the restaurant’s largest available pizza. “You managed to get through all the underwear shopping without fucking me.”

“You didn’t fucking wear any of them.” He grumbles, a large glob of sauce falling onto his chin. “All you’re wearing right now is my boxers, and that’s fucking-“ Ben cuts himself off, his love and hunger starting to pound at your chest. “That’s fucking hot. Let’s find a bathroom-“

“You are not fucking me in a public bathroom, Benjamin-“

“I’ve already fucked you in a public bathroom, Sunshine.” He winks at you, and you flush. “And it doesn’t have to be a bathroom, we can find a changing room-“

“No. No public sex, you horny cunt.” You glare at him, but your voice has lost a lot of its authority, because Ben’s grinning at you, and his knee is pressed to yours, and he’s swiped away the sauce from his beard and he’s licking his fingers clean just like he does after you cum on them-

“Seems like someone,” Ben drawls, and you can’t really think outside of his deep, teasing voice or handsome, insufferable, smug grin. “Has a real damn horny cunt, and might need me to fuck it before she starts drooling again-“

“Shut up.” You mutter, glaring at your plate of meatballs as Ben laughs. “You're such an asshole.”

He shrugs. “You love it.”

You sigh. “I do.”

Ben’s smile turns wide and smug, and you can feel something glowing and devout glowing along his ribs as he gives a satisfied nod and returns his attention to the pizza.

“I can call the taxi when we’re done.” You hum, poking at your plate with a fork. “It might take a minute to get here, so I can do it now-“

Ben freezes, frowning at you. “Why.”

“To go home? I mean we could walk, but it’s really far and we have a lot of bags-“

“I understand the fucking taxi,” Ben drawls your name, still frowning. “Why the fuck would you call it now.”

You blink at him, tilting your head. “So we can get home sooner-“

“We’re not done here.”

“I mean we’ll pay the bill-“

“No, Sunshine, the mall. We’re not done at the fucking mall.” 

“Oh.” Your brows draw together as you try to figure out why his words are so firm, why there’s no ache or soreness in his body, but still stone-like care wrapped over your skin. “What?”

“You need more clothing.”

You look between the large bags—spilling out from under the table—and Ben, your voice becoming dry. “I really don’t think I do, Pretty Boy.”

“You hate all that shit.” He snaps, waving his hand to the same bags. “We’re getting you something you like. And don’t,” he raises one finger, pointing at you with a stern glare that makes your gut warm. “Try to fucking tell me you’re fine, or it doesn’t matter. I can fucking feel you, darling, and you hate it.”

You swallow, forcing words out as your whole world dissolves to Ben. “I don’t, I don’t love it, but it’s not worth getting more, I just burn through everything so it would be a waste of money-“

“If it makes you happy, it’s not a waste of fucking money.” Ben grunts, holding your gaze in that way that makes you feel entirely vulnerable and stripped apart for him to care and adore, and yet so incredibly safe. “We’re not leaving the mall until you get one damn thing you like. Got it?”

You don’t really have anywhere to be, or anything to do. You still have a disgusting amount of arguably stolen CIA money. Ben’s knee has somehow wedged itself fully between your legs, and you can feel his ardor roaring in his chest as he pays your bill, as heat starts to grow in your core, where Ben is just too far to touch.

“Got it,” you whisper, and Ben nods, grabbing your hand as he stands and helping you out of your seat.

“Good.” He kisses the side of your head, grabbing all the bags before you can protest or insist on carrying at least a few of them. “Let’s go.”

It takes two hours and four shops to find something. Ben is, predictably, incredibly unhelpful in making choices, because while the man is full of countless opinions about what he’ll wear, he has next to no thoughts on what you should wear.

“What about this?” You extend what might be the fiftieth dress from the rack for his to survey, and Ben—the dickhead—just shrugs.

“Get that.”

“Well, I don’t know if I want it-“

“Why the fuck not.”

“I don’t know if it would look good on me-“

“Everything looks fucking good on you, beautiful.” Ben grunts, and you sigh.

“That’s not helpful, Benjamin-“

“It’s the damn truth-“

“It’s your truth.” You lean your head on his shoulder, continuing to frown at the dress. It’s a nice dress, and it is a color that usually looks good on you, but it’s revealing and expensive and fancy, and you haven’t worn anything like it in four years. “You’re incredibly bias in my favor, my love. Other people who aren’t in love with me might think I look bad in this.”

“Nobody with fucking eyes is going to think you look bad,” Ben says your name in the shell of your ear, and you might have whimpered. “Get the damn dress.”

“But I might not-“

“You’re going to look fucking hot.” Ben doesn’t waver, moving to cage your path away from the dress. “You like it?”

You swallow, and nod. “I do, but-“

“If you try it on,” Ben mutters. “And prove me fucking right, will you buy the damn dress?”

“Yes-“

Ben’s moving before you can protest any further, somehow holding every bag on one arm so he can grab the dress, shove it into your hands, and guide you to the dressing room.

You’ve never seen him pout more than when the saleswoman hands you a key and tells him he can’t go in with you. You can feel it, sour and soft around his heart, and it would make you sad if you didn’t know he just really wanted to see you naked.

I’ll be right back. You lean down to where he’s dropped on a bench, kissing over his beard with a gentle smile. I love you.

I love you too, Ben mutters, pulling his violent glower away from the saleswoman to kiss you fully, tangling his hand in your hair and almost making you collapse onto his lap. Be fast.

You try to be. You don’t really love leaving Ben out there anymore than he likes it, mostly because he’s either going to start interrogating anyone else who tries to enter the changing rooms—where you are, where he can’t go, which to his overprotective, paranoid head, means where you’re in danger—but a little bit because this place is cold, and Ben is warm, and this is his stupid idea so he should have to help you.

Are you almost done.

It’s been three minutes, Pretty Boy. You frown at the mirror, readjusting the fabric and turning at awkward angles to try and see yourself better. Give me a minute.

There’s a pause, and then, Do you look hot.

I don’t know, Ben, I’m not the best judge of my own appearance-

Let me see it.

You roll your eyes at your own reflection. How.

I don’t fucking know, come out here.

You flush, glancing at your discarded clothing on the bench. I, um, I can’t.

Why the fuck-

I had to take off your boxers. They were too long.

Ben doesn’t respond, but a wave of hunger so powerful it almost knocks you off your feet crashed through your body, and suddenly the instinct of Ben, Ben, Ben starts to grow in your body. Everything feels sharper, and smells like pine, and there’s a feverish glow rioting in your chest only moments before the door to your changing room bursts open. Ben stomps in, his eyes on yours almost feral and blown out with lust, and he kicks to door closed without sparing a look behind him.

He scans you up and down, nostrils flaring as his throat bobs, and you feel the hunger grow insatiable as he gives a short, rough nod. Before you can open your mouth, ask how the hell he got in or remind him of the no public sex again rule, he’s moving, and you don’t really care about anything else anymore. Ben’s walked you backward, pressing you against the mirror and caging you between his arms, and when his mouth crashes into yours he’s ravenous. The kiss is brutal and long, stealing your breath in barely a moment and ruining you with just bruising lips and a tongue down your throat.

Ben-

Fucking Christ. He groans, and the sound rolls through your body, making you whimper. You’re so fucking perfect.

Please, Ben, fuck, please. You’re not sure exactly what you’re begging for, but you know you need Ben. That he’s big and strong and warm around you, and his mouth has dropped to suck and bite on your neck, and you’re grinding down onto his thigh but it’s not enough, it’s never enough, you need Ben and you’ll never have enough-

He spins you around without warning, wrapping an arm around your waist, trailing a warm hand down your stomach until it’s under your dress, and starting to rub your clit with two expert, broad fingers.

You’re a goddamn marvel, he mutters in your head, grabbing your chin with his free hand and forcing your gaze onto the mirror. Prettiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, darling, so fucking wet and good for me.

Ben-

Look at you. His mouth starts to trial over your collarbone, smirking at your breathless, needy sound as you squirm in his hold. So fucking beautiful, all the damn time. When you’re getting smart with me, he nips at your shoulder, his eyes finding yours in the mirror. Bossing me around, his fingers leave your clit, but before you can moan in protest they’re shoved deep inside you, pumping and scissoring as his thumb continues to play with that bundle of nerves. Getting fucking wrecked on my hand. Always so perfect, Sunshine.

God, you let out a loud moan, unable to care who might hear you as Ben’s fingers crook against the sweet, spongy spot inside of you. Benjamin, fuck, please-

Want to cum, darling?

Yes, yes please-

His fingers are gone in a second, and you make a desperate noise of protest that turns into a half-scream as his cock shoves into you from behind. You’d have fallen over if Ben hadn’t pinned your body upright, and fuck this is everything, Ben is everything, he’s splitting you open and groaning and kissing over your shoulders and throat and jaw, and Ben-

Fuck, he grunts your name in your head, setting a brutal, skin slapping pace that makes your eyes roll back in your head. You’re fucking perfect, strangling my fucking cock, taking me so good, so fucking pretty, Sunshine, so fucking wet and good for me-

Please, you reach behind you, trying to angle his face to yours. Ben, fuck- Please-

Ben’s hand trails back up your stomach, pulling one tit out of the dress and rolling your nipple between his fingers. Cum for me, beautiful, soak my fucking cock-

You spasm around him, shivering and shaking and making lewd, needy sounds as Ben fucks you through your orgasm, his thrusts growing erratic as he watches you in the mirror.

Good girl, so fucking good, fuck- He pinches your nipple as you grow slack in his arms, taking everything he gives you as your body grows sensitive. Fucking beautiful, so fucking perfect-

Ben, you whimper, your body already overloading as he drags you back to the edge, his cock hitting every right spot in your cunt. Ben-

He buries his face in your neck as he cums, muffling his groan on your skin as he spills into your body. It sends you over the edge with him—everything hazy and your vision blurred with the pure, blissful feel of Ben—and when you both come down you’re panting and flushed and squeezing around Ben’s softening cock, still twitching inside you.

“Buy the stupid dress, Sunshine.” Ben mutters, kissing your neck and holding your gaze in the mirror. “You look like a fucking work of art.”

You’re going to have to buy the dress now, because Ben’s fucked you in it and it smells like his salty, heady cum. But he’s also not lying, because you look a little wild and dazed, but you are beautiful. It’s easy to believe that when Ben says it, because his voice is always borderline stern, and he doesn’t lie. Ben could tell you anything about yourself, about how good and perfect and beautiful you are, and as long as he’s like that—his release dripping down your thighs, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and his hands tracing patterns on your hips—you’d believe him.

And you think there are worse fates than that, so you smile, and nod, and give in.

Ben makes it so impossibly simple to smile, and nod, and give in.

End Note: She crumbled under 0 pressure to have sex in public (again). Same.

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Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd @ej13928

@deansbbyx

[moonsofmars-writes]

and in the dark i can hear your heartbeat

Fandom: Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro, Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez Characters: Claire Nuñez, Jim Lake Jr. (Tales of Arcadia), Blinkous "Blinky" Galadrigal, Trolls (Tales of Arcadia) Additional Tags: Fluff, Slice of Life, Post-Season 3 (Trollhunters), Canon Compliant, the trolls are going to new jersey, oh my that's a long trip, Poor Claire, claire is tired, Jim is a good boyfriend, jlaire, jim carries claire, because I say so, they are cute, rated T for kissing, blinky is there too, He is trying

Summary: The Trolls are travelling to New Jersey and everything would be great, if only it wasn't so damn exhausting. Or, Claire is tired but will not admit it and Jim tries his best to be helpful.

It turned out that walking for hours every night was exhausting. Claire huffed but kept going, careful not to stumble on a rock or a root; the moon was almost full in the sky but barely filtered between the branches of the dense trees, leaving her and her companions in a thick, cold darkness. They had been walking for a week by now, travelling from dusk till dawn and camping during the day, always making sure to keep away from inhabited areas. Her Trollhunter training had helped her to keep going until now, but she wasn't used to hiking this long.

At her side, Blinky walked carelessly, showing no sign of tiredness. He kept his eyes fixed on the map he was holding, brows furrowed. She considered asking him when he planned to stop, but she quickly discarded the thought. To stop they first had to find a place where the Trolls could camp comfortably, protected by the daylight. That was the reason why Jim had left the group, an half an hour before, to explore the wood that extended in front of them. Besides, Claire didn't want Blinky to worry about her. She was perfectly able to walk another few miles, despite the aching of her legs. Well, or so she hoped. Sighing, she looked down. Her first days had gone better, but then her feet had started to hurt and now her leg muscles contracted painfully every time she took a step. She had even taken out the armour Merlin had made for her - she loved it, really, but it wasn’t made for long trips.

Luckily, her caravan didn’t move too fast. She soon found out that Trolls didn’t tire easily and could keep walking for hours without much effort, but they were slow and there was always someone who got lost or stayed behind, forcing the whole group to slow down or even stop to find them. Out of curiosity, she glanced behind her back, but the thick mass of trees prevented her from seeing much of the long column of trolls. Hopefully they were learning to stick together.

"I found a place!" 

Read on AO3

Claire jerked and almost stumbled as she turned around, just in time to see Jim emerging from the wood. She hadn't heard him approaching - how was he getting so good at sneaking up? He smiled at her before turning towards Blinky, "The branches are tight, so the sun shouldn't be a problem, and I found water!" He moved closer and bent over Blinky's map, "It should be ... ah, here," he said, finger brushing against the paper. "A little farther, keeping on the right. We will surely be there before dawn."

"How long will it take?" Claire asked, moving forward to reach for his hand and lace their fingers.  

He immediately squeezed her hand back. "At this pace, a little less than an hour." She nodded, holding back a sigh. Her calves would have hated her.

“That will do,” Blinky said, folding the map. His eyes lingered for a moment on the couple and their joined hands, a faint smile curving his lips. “I will inform the rest of the group while you start leading them,” he said, turning around, “I have no intention to waste other time looking for lost fools! Not again!”

Jim chuckled, “Good luck with that.”

“You know you are helping me when it happens!” Binky’s voice faded in the night as he disappeared behind the first group of Trolls. Jim and Claire exchanged a look and giggled, then walked away, still holding hands.

“I guess we are going to spend some quality time chasing gnomes later,” Jim said.

Claire let out an exaggeratedly heavy sigh, “Please, not again! I didn’t bring with me my entire wardrobe, I can’t get another shirt ripped because one of them has decided to hide among brambles. I'm sure he did it on purpose!”

“You could stop by the next town, you know,” Jim said softly, “I could get you close enough before the sunrise and come back for you at dusk. You could buy new clothes, have a proper meal, sleep in a real bed -”

“Hey, I’m perfectly fine sleeping with you guys! And I’m not that sick of camping food yet. Besides, I don’t want to leave you alone during daylight hours.”

“We can handle ourselves for a day,” he made her a confident smile, “no one is going to move anyway. I … I am very happy that you came with me - with us,” he added, his eyes full of affection and warmth, “and I don’t want this to feel like a torture for you.”

“That’s not possible! I -”

“Just think about this, okay? Soon or later you’ll have to get supplies anyway.”

He had a point. Claire nodded, murmuring a small “okay” and squeezing his hand a little tighter. They kept walking in comfortable silence, broken only by the creakings and rustles of the forest and by the distant sound of the Trolls moving and chattering behind them. They must have outdistanced them, and it wasn’t hard to see why: Jim’s gait was fast. Claire found herself struggling to breathe regularly and felt her tired muscles contracting painfully; she wouldn’t have been able to keep up that peace for a long time. She frowned, eyes pointed on the ground, and focused only on taking a step after another, and then again, one step after the other, and again, and -

And then Jim was suddenly slowing down and she could breathe a sigh of relief - at least until he asked, voice filled with concern, “Are you alright, Claire?” When she turned, he was bending over her, eyes wide, “Do you want to take a break?”

“No! Well,” she added, “maybe could you slow down a little? We have left everyone behind.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows rose when he glanced back and noticed that the wood was empty. He immediately stopped and gave her an embarrassed smile, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry, I didn’t notice.”

“It’s alright,” she panted, taking advantage of the break to stretch her legs a little, “We’ll just wait for them, okay?”

“Sure, but what about you? You are tired, aren’t you?”

She bit her lip, looking down. “Just a little,” she admitted, “but I’ll be fine. We are stopping soon anyway.”

He frowned, mouth clenched. “I’m sorry,” he whispered then, “I should have realised it sooner, Since I became … ah, this,” he vaguely gestured at his body, “I don’t get tired as I did before. But you are human and this is not a simple hike in the woods around Arcadia. I should have thought about it. I’m sorry, Claire. You shouldn’t have to -”

“Jim.” She put a hand on his arm and smiled at him when their eyes met. “It’s alright. You had other things to think about. Leading the Trolls it’s been exhausting! Besides, it’s not that bad. Give me another few days, I’ll get used to it!” Hopefully, she added in her mind. New Jersey wasn’t exactly around the corner.

Jim sighed. “I just wish I could make it easier for you! Maybe I could -” He suddenly fell silent and his brows knitted, as he was thinking about something.

“You don’t have to do anything, I don’t want to slow us down even more, or we’ll take forever," she reassured him.

“You are right but, uhm, I thought I,” he cleared his throat, looking away, “I could carry you.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at him. He avoided her gaze, and even though she couldn’t see it clearly, she would have sworn that his cheeks had taken a slightly darker colour. She couldn’t help but grin - he was taller and well, bluer, but he was still Jim. Then her mind registered what he had said. “Wait, what?”

“It wouldn’t be a problem,” he muttered, “I’m not tired at all and I got stronger - I mean, you know I did, I just - I wouldn’t mind carrying you. If you want to.”

“There is no need!” She could literally feel a blush creeping into her cheeks. “I  can  walk, for another little while.” Her legs didn’t really agree about that, but she knew she would have made it. She didn’t have any other option - or had she?

Jim finally looked at her. “Are you sure?” He asked, tilting her head.

Claire took a moment to seriously ponder his proposal. Would have it been that bad? She was tired and he was offering and she trusted him. He was her boyfriend! And he was without a doubt strong enough to carry her. “We can try for a while if you are really okay with it,” she carefully answered. “But if you  start to get tired, I’m walking!”

“I won’t!” He hurried to nod.

A chuckle escaped her lips, “Okay then, Superman! How do you want to do this - Ah!” In the blink of an eye, Jim’s arms were around her and she was lifted from the ground. She yelped and instinctively put her arms around his neck, seeking stability, but there was no need to. His arms felt firm and strong and she simply knew he wouldn’t have let her fall.

“See? No effort!” He said cheerfully, a spark of pride in his eyes.

This time, Claire laughed. “Great job, Trollhunter!” She patted his armour with her palm and took some moments to make herself comfortable in his arms. When she was finally at ease, she glanced over his shoulder and noticed that the other Trolls were finally getting closer. “I suppose we can leave now.”

He turned briefly to check the group and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Claire wasn't used to being carried like that, and at first, it felt - well, new. It didn’t take her long, though, to get used to the pace of his walking and the solid feeling of his arms supporting her body. Resting her head against his chest, she decided that this was nice, actually. And admittedly way more comfortable than using her legs.

During the rest of the trip, they quietly chatted about the people they left behind. Claire showed him some pictures of Enrique she had received from her parents - "I already miss him," she admitted, "he will have grown up so much when we'll come back!" - and then it was his turn to show her all the baby pictures his mother sent him.

"I can't believe your mother and Mr Strickler are really going to raise them all."

"I can't either, but they trying to make it work. Mom texted me to ask if I knew how what exactly she should put in baby food. I've never even tried to make baby food!"

"I'm sure you'd made something awesome if you tried," she laughed, "you are the best chef in Arcadia!"

"You really think so?" He hummed happily before adding with a smirk, "Only in Arcadia?"

She snorted. "Don't get too cocky! My guacamole is still unequalled."

"I've never doubted that!"

Like this, time passed faster. Claire didn’t even notice that Blinky had joined them until the conversation died and she checked again if the other Trolls were still in sight. He nodded at her with a smile and she waved at him before resting her head against Jim’s chest, listening to the comforting thud of his beating heart. This wasn't just nice, it was comfortable, so comfortable that her mind started to cloud and her eyes to close against her will. She tried to keep them open, to keep herself awake tracing senseless patterns on the plates of his armour. With her finger, she followed the edges of his amulet with her finger, again and again, until she knew it by heart and the metal was warm from her touch. She didn't want to fall asleep, not yet. They would have needed help later and she was the only one among them who could walk in sunlight now. So, she definitely had to stay awake. She had to.

She was failing miserably.

When she was about to doze off, her eyes closed and her hands resting on her belly, Jim finally halted. "We are here," he said quietly, probably not to disturb her. Claire heard him anyway and lifted her head, blinking. The wood around her didn't look much different than before, though, she realised looking around, it was a little darker. That would have been helpful at sunrise. “There’s a pool over there,” Jim continued pointing somewhere on their left, “and there should be enough space between the trees for us to sleep.”

Blinky nodded, then let out a sigh, “Now, let’s hope we will be able to camp quickly for once.” Raising his arms he turned around to approach the other Troll. “We have arrived! Now, please, just do as I say ...”

“We should probably help,” Claire said, unable to hold back a yawn. Not that she really wanted to get down, but she knew for sure that Blinky needed all the help he could get.

"Are you sure?" Jim asked, gently putting her down when she moved and supporting her until she stood. "You can go to sleep. I am not tired, I can take care of them alone this time."

"No, it's okay." She stretched and smiled at him, "I feel definitely better now that I got some rest! We will finish faster together."

"Okay, you are right. If you feel like, you can take care of who's already here. I will check the rest of the group to make sure that no one was left behind. What do you think?"

She nodded. "Good plan! But first, let me thank you."

“There is no need to -” he started, shaking his head, but before he could finish she reached for his shoulder with both her hands and dragged him down, making him yelp in surprise. Even like this, she still had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him.  

They hadn’t got many chances to kiss since his transformation. His lips still felt a bit different under hers, not quite hard but somehow solid and cool. She traced the profile of his temple and buried her fingers in his hair until she could scratch the base of his horn. Suddenly he pulled her closer and enveloped her with his arms, lifting her little to reach her better. She smiled against his lip, brushing his cheek with her hand. Yes, she was definitely getting used to this.

When they parted, his cheeks were definitely bluer. He beamed at her, scratching her back with his fingers, “Okay, I like this kind of thank you."

“You better!" She grinned, patting playfully his arm, "Now we should go, they will never set this camp without us.”

He chuckled, “I’ll see you later then! Good luck.” He kissed her forehead before disappearing in the wood, quick as a wild cat. Claire stood for a few seconds, staring at the trees, before heading for the rest of the group. Leg pain or not, she thought, this trip was totally worth it.

[pinupgalore-lanadelrey]

lake placid, aka era

LAKE PLACID

Yes, definitely. I was a different sort of child, as half the children are. They are or they aren’t. I was in that category of being free-spirited [laughs].

I go back now to visit my grandma and grandpa, but it’s not really somewhere I’ve spent a lot of time, not since I was 14. It’s beautiful. It’s a vacation destination. Olympics. It’s small, 2,800 people [laughs] it’s very different from here. 

It was boring. That town is crazy, too. I was a bad girl, but I’m good now. I guess I have some bad tendencies. I don’t like to do hurtful things, but I am drawn to the wild side. I love riding motorcycles; I love rollercoasters; I do like adrenaline. But I’ve also found true happiness when I was living in New York and working with other people in that way that we’ve talked about. So, I don’t know. But I don’t feel at odds with it. 

They didn’t have too much music around, but they actually both had really nice voices. My dad wrote country songs for fun, and my mom sang for fun. My dad liked the Beach Boys, my mom liked Carly Simon, but we didn’t really listen to them; we just put the radio on -- whatever would be on the radio.

I would write fiction on my own time, and I liked writing in school. I thought that was one of the less offensive school subjects, so that was fun for me. I transitioned to singing when I picked up the guitar. I’ve never been good at the guitar -- always been bad -- but it did help me write for the first four years.

I wondered if you wrote -- your lyrics are so narrative. They sound like stories. I’ve been in New York now seven years, and it’s been a really long road, so the parts of my life that I draw from lyrically are maybe the more dramatic segments of the time that I’ve been here. But they are all true.

Do you feel like you struggled when you moved to New York? Yeah, it was difficult, as it is for everyone. Maybe myself a little bit more, but that was my own fault.

SCHOOL

I didn’t live at school, I lived where I could and studied what I enjoyed studying. I took what I wanted from that education but was making my first record at the same time. I don’t know anyone from school. I was just leading a different life. I was really interested in writing and other things.

Lana Del Rey: I was social, just in a different way. I loved my teachers. I feel like kids can be hard to get along with sometimes and I don’t know anyone from my school I’ve been to. I’m sure they were nice.

Lana Del Rey: No, I didn’t feel ostracized. I just had different priorities. I was reading and writing. I was pursuing my own education [laughs] which paid off, I’ve learned so many different things.

What does metaphysics entail?

It’s not as complicated as it sounds. There’s different branches so it depends on which branch you’re studying. If you’re studying something like cosmogony, you’re studying about the origins of the universe, and how reality came to be reality. Like this space that we’re sitting in now -- how did we come to inhabit this place? And why this reality strikes us as it is. I studied that up in the Bronx.

I did move into a trailer park when I made my first record. I got ten grand from Five Points Records and moved into Manhattan Mobile Home in New Jersey. And I was happy, because I was doing it for myself. 

Well, I lived in the Bronx for four years. I lived in Brooklyn for like four years after that. I always consider myself to have a serious street side, even when I was in high school. I mean, I was pretty crazy. Everyone I knew was really crazy.

I define myself eccentric psychologically but in the interviews that it’s often misunderstood. Maybe because my life had a lot of transformations, more transitions. My life has gone through various incarnations, mostly transitions. But I don’t consider myself to be someone very provocative or radical – I embrace a lot of traditional things. But I believe in alternative lifestyles and in alternative relationships.

Yes, exactly like Twin Peaks. I was hoping to get out and get to New York because that felt like heaven. I like going to the corner store and tell you that a man [in Spanish], “Hello beautiful, how are you? ���.

_________________________________________________

I remember for the short time we lived together in NYC, I used to come home from work and see the entire wall of our studio apartment covered in weird tropical backdrops from the Party City store. There would be tinsel everywhere and streamers taped to the walls and I was furious because it looked like the most bizarre amateur movie set, plus I was worried for your sanity because I couldn’t see where you were going with all of it. Looking back though, your obsession with strange nick knacks and Hawaiian embellishments were like little hints of colors to come for future sounds and videos. Yeah, of course I remember those days. You hated my electric fishtank which gave me endless amusement. (She winks!)

For the record, I loved that fish tank, you gave it to me for my 19th birthday. I believe the inadvertant theme was ‘Chinatown.’ Now, I know you don’t love to talk about this because journalists have sort of mythologized your past but let’s talk about the trailer park you lived in for a few years- I shot you there when you were 22 and continued to shoot you there for a couple years while you were writing and entertaining and wrapping up your album with David Kahne. You were so sweet and happy that you had your very own place to write and reside in, and extra money from that $10,000 indie contract. It was also a sad time for you because you separated from Steven Mertens who had originally produced that record and who was your boyfriend at the time. I don’t really have to ask you this because as your sister, I think I already know, but would you say this was your most enriching time as an artist and happiest time in New York (despite the split from Steven.) [Smile] Yes.

Do you remember decorating David Kahne’s studio? I remember sitting next to a decorative Urn during one of your recording sessions. Even now, you’ll bring ribbons or bows or specific iconography to recording sessions. How important is it that your space reflects your personal style or headspace? I honestly haven’t thought about that in so long. I used to have to have some sort of talisman with me if I was writing. Something connected to the lyrics like a sparkle jumprope or a golden compact mirror- at the time it was really important. Now I have internalized so much of what I’ve come to love that I don’t think about it as much any more.

I loved New York. When I was there it was almost my sole source of inspiration, more than any other man, writer or rapper, but it’s harder for me to get around now. I used to take late night walks over the Williamsburg Bridge, go to all the 24 hour diners with $5 and beg the waiters to let me stay all night in exchange for the purchase of one giant slice of chocolate cake. I would sit for hours and read about interesting people like Karl Lagerfeld and listen to books on tape by Tony Robins to keep me company. I would take the D train to Coney Island, take the D train back to the Bronx where I lived on Hughes Avenue.

I did move into a trailer park when I made my first record. I got ten grand from Five Points Records and moved into Manhattan Mobile Home in New Jersey. And I was happy, because I was doing it for myself. There was a white trash element in the way there was a time that I didn’t want to be a part of mainstream society because I thought it was gross. I was trying to carve my own piece of the pie in a creative way that I kind of knew how. And I thought it was cool to be living by myself and working with a famous producer. I was excited about the future at the time.

Like when I was working with my first producer David Kahne and I was in that mobile home for two years. I was between there and Williamsburg and I had a boyfriend then. It was a very happy time. 

I was doing open mic nights in the city with my guitar at Layla Lounge, Galapagos, where those places are open. Same place every girl singer was playing. One of many tragic Lower East side songstresses, oh dear! What must they think? And I met really nice people. Everyone in Brooklyn was doing a folk thing, and I was in that camp, singing sort of jazz. I entered a songwriting competition, I didn’t win, and one of the judges on the panel was an A&R man at a record label that had no other acts and I signed to them. We sent my demo out to five people and David Kahne got back to me that day, and said I think you’re amazing I want to start with you tomorrow. He was like my Harvard reach school, I couldn’t believe it. I was really excited. It was the first time anyone of any importance said I was good and I ran with that validation for a long time. 

“I was always writing little songs, but nothing I liked then. When I left school I wanted to do music because I thought I was good at it and I wanted to do something that I loved. So my uncle taught me to play guitar and I did these little shows, just me and my guitar, singing and playing the five chords that I knew.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In her years in New York, working “odd jobs” and “helping out in the community, in alcohol and drug awareness programs” and playing the singer-songwriter open-mic circuit.  

Just going to open-mic nights and things like that. It was mostly in Brooklyn. It was a folk scene. When I was 19, I signed to an independent record label. I was the only act on their roster, and then that record was shelved. After that, I still wanted to sing, but I started focusing on being an active member of my community.

In fact, she seems to be retracting more and more from public view, after buying a house in Los Angeles with her brother and sister. 

There was an older song that you've never heard called "Pawn Shop Blues". [sings] "In the name of higher consciousness / I let the best man I met go / Because it's nice to love and be loved but it's better to know all you can know." Because I remember I'd met someone so special and famous but I knew he wasn't enlightened about how to be a good person. I knew it would get in the way of me becoming a nice person. That's a difficult choice to make. 

How did you meet this famous person? Um, it was in a self-help group. [laughs]. He wasn't that famous. I justthought he was famous…

TV famous or movie star famous? Rock star famous.  Just middle of the road ish. To me he was famous because I didn't know anyone who was wildly recognisable. I remember thinking it was exciting at the time.

[matsbarzal]

Just a Hookup - William Nylander

Note: whatta creative title for my actual dad that i love so much. no but seriously, i kind of like this one and kind of don’t but i hope you guys enjoy!!

Smut: Yes | No

Warnings: smut yall

Request: Can you do a William nylander smut?? Love your writing btw💜 

It was the same thing every offseason, Willy would leave for Sweden after the Marlies or Leafs were pushed out of the playoffs, and you would be stuck back home in Toronto, unable to follow your best friend to his hometown. It wasn’t really expected of you though, as to everyone else, you were just friends, and nothing more.

William hid the true intentions of your relationship from everyone, not wanting to jeopardize your dating life because you weren’t an actual couple. Just a hookup, always just a hookup. There were times that you thought that maybe he wanted to change that, and put an actual label on what you guys were doing, but it was always just a hookup.

Regardless of that issue, he was still your best friend. Which is what had you standing in the airport, waiting for his floppy blonde hair to appear from the terminal, and when it finally did, you almost squealed in excitement as you ran towards him. You collided with him, the only thing keeping the two of you upright being the newfound strength that the Swede had gained over the summer.

“I’ve missed you!” You yelled into his ear, aggressively holding him in a hug, which he easily reciprocated.

“I’ve missed you too, you weirdo.”

William gently pried your hands off his body, grabbing his fallen suitcase and gesturing for you to direct them to your car. This was always how it went, you would attack him in a loving embrace and he would then direct you to get out of the airport so he could show you the actual embrace he preferred.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally found your car in the maze that is Toronto Pearson airport, a huffing and annoyed William trailing behind you.

“You pick me up every year, and you lose your car… every fucking year.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his grumbling as he shoved his luggage into your backseat and your trunk, trying to fit as much of his stuff in the back so it didn’t have to come up to the front with the two of you. He, thankfully, was able to shove it all in the back before moving to the passenger seat.

“Thanks for the help, (Y/N).”

“Anytime, Will.”

The Swede pouted at you, before grabbing the aux chord from your hands and plugging it into your phone. “Sorry, we’re not listening to Lana Del Rey the entire ride to my apartment. Not in that mood for that shitty shit today.”  

Ignoring his jab at your choice of music, you began the drive to his apartment, ignoring the occasional glance that he sent your way during the ride.

You weren’t oblivious, you knew what he wanted from the subtle touches to your hip and the ‘accidental’ brush up against your ass, but you weren’t playing into his games anymore. You couldn’t feel the way you felt every time he brought someone else to his apartment, or the way he talked about the girl’s home in Sweden, you weren’t allowed to be jealous of it, but you were, and you were done with it. And sadly, that took progress, which started with denying him what he wanted.

“(Y/N)… help me unpack… pleaseeeee.” Raising your eyebrow at the fully grown man in front of you, who was currently dropping everything in his hands on the floor to practically beg you to help him; you just simply shook your head and laughed.

“You never help me, Willy. Sucks to suck, buddy.”

The man in question continued to grumble under his breath at your words, moaning and complaining the entire time. You ignored it, once again, clicking your phone on so you could scroll through Instagram.

Liking a few pictures, you stopped when you noticed a comment on Willy’s newest post.

Alexnylander good luck with you know who in Toronto!! ;)))

Truthfully, you didn’t want to know who he was talking about, because it sure as hell wasn’t you. Skipping past the picture, you liked a few more before William’s grumbling became too annoying.

“Jesus, Will, can we do something else so you’ll shut up for 10 minutes?”

He eagerly accepted, proclaiming that you were going to watch ‘a movie’ with him, and you didn’t get to choose which movie because you were being ‘too mean to him’. His comments just made you laugh, ignoring the look of mock hurt that crawled across his face.

After a few seconds of shuffling through his movie cabinet, like usual, the blue of the Notebook’s cover page appeared just as a groan sounded from your throat. “Again?”

“Again!”

Every single time you watched a movie together and he got to choose, it was always The Notebook, literally… always.

After setting the movie up and turning the lights off, the Swede climbed into bed beside you, immediately cuddling up to your body and claiming it was too cold in the room to not cuddle. “You love it anyways, (Y/N), so shush and watch the movie.”

You obliged, facing towards the screen and focusing on the beginning of the movie. Your focus was interrupted a few minutes in when you felt his hand gently rubbing up and down your clothed thigh, an obvious indication of what he wanted. You tried to ignore it, but he just became more persistent and used the leverage of moving up higher closer towards where you knew moisture was growing.

You shifted up a bit, so that his hand was closer towards your knee, while subtly trying to move your leg away from him. Unfortunately, his hand followed wherever your thigh went.

“(Y/N)…”

You turned to face him, just as the feeling of his soft lips on yours reached your brain. It took you a second to realize what was going on, and when you did, you knew you were fucked. You couldn’t stop, the feeling he gave you was like a drug, it was addictive and unhealthy, but you loved it… so much.

Eagerly pressing your lips against his, the Swede pushed himself on top of you, holding himself up with his elbows. He left your lips to begin peppering kisses down your neck, stopping when your shirt got in the way to lift it gently off your body, coaxing you to lift your arms so he could. You allowed him to remove it, your own reasoning trying to persuade your impulses to stop, but you couldn’t.

He didn’t bother to remove the bra, just pushed the cup aside before his lips attached themselves to one of your rosy buds. The blonde eagerly sucked on it, occasionally scraping it with his teeth before moving to the other one, small groans leaving your lips at every one of his ministrations. You could feel him rutting against the bed at your sounds, which you knew he loved.

After a few more minutes of that, he continued to pepper kisses down your body before reaching your pants, looking up at you to make sure you were okay with it. Once again, your impulses took over and you nodded down.

Within seconds, both your pants and panties were off, as he looked upon your wet core hungrily. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you’re turned on, (Y/N). It’s so fucking hot.”

That was new. Sex between the two of you was always a quiet affair, no dirty talk, just moans and groans and slaps. You both, originally, didn’t want it to get too intimate, which made his comments even weirder.

Choosing to just moan at his words, he eagerly pressed his mouth to your dripping core, eliciting a loud moan from your lips. You could feel the smug grin that took over his face at your sounds, which had you closing your thighs tightly around his head, to implicate that you weren’t interested in him being a smug bastard tonight.

He obviously got the hint, his tongue spreading out to lick a line from your entrance all the way to the bundle of nerves at the top of your core. William repeatedly did that, each time releasing a loud moan from your lips, and a shake from your lower body. He continued that until you were gripping his hair, tugging on it hard enough that he moved his head to look up at you.

“Fuck me, please.”

William shook his head almost immediately, “No, tonight’s about you, not me.”

You were baffled by his words, but you couldn’t think of it as his lips went back to your clit, licking and sucking you to an orgasm that had your eyes rolling back and your hips bucking into his mouth. You opened your eyes to look at him, just to see how intensely he was looking at you.

A few seconds of a staring contest resulted in him repressing his lips to yours. He pulled away to look at you again, “I fucking love when you cum in my mouth and make those sounds, you look so fucking gorgeous.”

Your train of thought refocused on his words, once again baffling you as to why he was saying these kinds of things, especially when he never did. “Willy…”

“No, let me finish. I fucking love making you cum, and making you moan my name when I fuck you, or how you gag when you give me head. I know this isn’t the time, but I want that all the time, not just occasionally, but like… all the time. I want morning sex, and after practice sex, and victory sex, and I wanna be able to not worry that you’re gonna say no because you have a boyfriend, or that you’re fucking someone else. But I also wanna see you in my jerseys all the time, or my shirts, I wanna see you cooking in my kitchen, I literally want everything.” All the words rushed from his mouth, with each word leaving, a tinge of red followed on his cheeks. When he was done, his face was as red as a tomato, and he was looking at you awkwardly.

“Do you get every girl naked and then say this?”

“Fuck you and tell me if you want it too.” The Swede practically growled at you, his own nerves showing in his aggression.

“Well like… yeah, but I don’t have a jersey for you to wear of mine right now, sorry buddy.”

All the blonde did was laugh, pushing forward to once again press his lips against yours. Pulling away, you looked at him, “So like, can I put my pants on now or?”

[doux-amer]

Posted this on Facebook and copying and pasting it here, incorrect all-lower punctuation and all, so it’s easier for me to find it and because I need everyone, football fans and non-football people alike, to understand why this man is so special BECAUSE HE’S SO SPECIAL even though a bunch of you, especially the CLFers, know how much he means to me personally:

this is going to be long because this is something that means a lot to me and something that i'm emotional about (breaking news: i get sad sometimes). ever since iniesta announced that he would be leaving the club at the end of the season, i've struggled to come to terms with the news. i wondered why i wasn't more upset, but it was because i didn't want to think about it and because it was unfathomable. xavi and iniesta embodied barça's DNA. they ARE barça. both exemplify the best of what barça has to offer. they're la masia graduates. they're midfielders. they're visionaries and artists. they were the reason why i fell in love with la roja a decade ago and why there wasn't any choice in what club i picked (as the saying goes, the club picks you). no other players have fundamentally shifted my understanding of the game more than these two, and i'd argue that no two players have shifted the game as drastically as them over the past decade.

i say these two because they were a package deal (and they knew it too. one of my favorite stories about them is that they switched numbers; iniesta took #8 for barça and #6 for spain, and xavi was #6 for barça and #8 for spain). they were the textbook definition of drift compatibility. they were soulmates, one soul living in two bodies; there's that famous moment of them gesturing to each other wordlessly and somehow understanding exactly what the other person was thinking because they not only never needed words to communicate, but it was also as though they had a psychic bond and as soon as one person thought something, that person immediately did too as though they were the one who thought it. it's why when xavi left, i was devastated and it was strange to see iniesta holding up the copa del rey trophy alone a few weeks ago. now the moment i've been dreading for years has finally come: xavi and iniesta are both gone even though they were supposed to be here forever.

words can't describe what iniesta means to me. if you're a fan of barça or football, you know his genius, but if you're not, it's difficult to describe how uniquely and preternaturally gifted "el ilusionista" is. all that comes to mind is what pep said to xavi on iniesta's first day training with the first team: "you're going to retire me. this kid is going to retire us all." i can think of no better quote to describe the special bond connecting those three, the change of guard from one generation to the next, and the enormity of iniesta's talent than that quote.

but if you don't know much about football or about iniesta (and you can be forgiven for that because for a long time, iniesta flew under the radar and even now, he doesn't possess the celebrity his more starlike companions enjoy), then this might give you a better example of his importance: iniesta scored the goal that won spain its first world cup. he's dearly loved across spain for that—but not only because of that. he's loved because of his compassion, humility, and generosity. everyone remembers him for what happened after. the ball went in and then he tore across the pitch, stripping off his jersey to show the shirt underneath to the millions watching across the world. it read "dani jarque siempre con nosotros." it was a tribute to his friend who passed away suddenly at the same age i am now. dani was the captain of espanyol, barça's despised rival across town. there's no other club cules hate more than espanyol except maybe real madrid, and the animosity is a two-way street, but iniesta didn't give a damn about that. he dedicated his world cup goal to his friend when that moment could have been about him and no one would have begrudged him for that especially considering his struggles during the months leading up to the world cup due to his injuries and his grief over dani's passing.

and that's what made him so special. he's still that shy, quiet, tiny (and pale, but he demonstrated that he can, in fact, get a bit of color and ACTUALLY TAN, the one thing i thought was impossible for him to do) 12-year-old kid who arrived at la masia 22 years ago. the only difference is that he went from being a tearfully homesick kid who awakened everyone's protective streak to becoming a leader, though i'm sure victor valdes is out there somewhere, still ready to fight anyone who so much as looks at iniesta the wrong way. totally relatable because as i've said for years, iniesta is the one footballer i will fight to defend; you so much as say the slightest critical thing about him, and i will punch you because he's an angel and how DARE anyone say anything bad about him or worse, upset him.

i don't have to worry about that, though, because the whole world loves him and no one has a bad thing to say about him. he's that rare breed of class and humility. he doesn't pick fights, act self-pitying and dramatic, or play dirty. he's hard-working, selfless, and generous. everything he does is in service to the team—and off the pitch, to the fans, his family, and the world. he's also gentle and kind to a fault; back when he became captain after xavi left, people worried that iniesta wouldn't be able to be a leader, even fans who loved him. they thought he'd be an uncharismatic pushover, but he showed that you don't have to be loud or forceful to lead. everyone deferred to him because of their admiration for him as a person, and he led with calm, gentle firmness, always stepping in to defuse situations, to encourage and support his teammates, and to protect his teammates and friends when they needed defending.

that's why he's not just my favorite player tied with xavi. he's my role model and has been for the past decade, and that's what makes him so much more special than all the other players i love dearly. he means so much to me as both a player and as a person, and he's a shining example of what people should strive to be. at the end of the day, the most important thing is that you're a good person and that's exactly who he is and tries to be. okay, i'm getting really emotional right now and am on the verge of getting as tearful as i was watching his last match yesterday (i'm definitely going to even more of a mess when i watch iniesta's press conference and farewell ceremony (I STILL HAVEN'T SEEN EITHER OF THEM BECAUSE IT'LL HURT TOO MUCH)). i got misty-eyed when i saw iniesta handing the captain's armband to messi and realized i'd never see one of the best partnerships football has ever seen ever again, and then i cried (DON'T EVER MENTION THIS TO MY FACE) when i saw him crying on the bench as a stadium of 80,000 chanted his name and heard the announcers saying that the four captains of the pep era and the true barça captains of my heart—puyol, valdes, xavi, and iniesta—are now gone.

it's the end of an era even though i know iniesta's one true love is barça forever and always (this is the man whose house was decked out completely in barça colors; google it because it's wild), and i know he'll be back soon. i'm just thankful that i was incredibly lucky enough to get a front-row (or second-row?) seat and watch him from only several feet away at camp nou twice. it was a dream come true to see him play in person. i'll never forget how indescribably magical those moments were, just as this past decade following him was. ❤️💙 

[lohstthenfound]

[headcanon dump for brooke!]

brooke is a pisces/aires cusp and her birthday is march 19th. she’s 21 years old.

she cries a lot at everything. she’s very emotional, and she’s only annoyed by it when it ruins her makeup (foundation is expensive, guys) or when it’s for a sad or bad reason. crying because her ex-boyfriend cheated? hates it. crying because jeremy said something nice to her? totally doesn’t mind it!

her venus is in cancer which is why she says she is the way she is - “an emotional, romantic baby” is how chloe described it, and “she’s not wrong”

she’s super into astrology and has done charts for every single member of the squad back home.

she’s pan!

she loves frozen yogurt. she prefers it over ice cream.

she’s a little tiny bit lactose intolerant so she doesn’t eat it as much as she wants to, but sometimes she’s just gotta.

she has had absolutely garbage luck with relationships. she’d had a ton of hookups, and then dustin kropp was her first serious boyfriend that went beyond a hookup and he cheated on her. then she fell really hard for jeremy heere and he ended up making out with chloe instead of her and her heart was broken. then she gave up on men as a whole for a very long time until Her Boyfriend came into the picture.

her best friend in the whole world is chloe valentine, even though their relationship was… unhealthy at times before The Fire.

her other best friend is rich goranski. they were, like, kind of friends before The Fire - rich was a short little asshole and everyone knew that - and then they got closer After The Fire.

her life is divided into two parts: Before The Fire and After The Fire.

she will not discuss The Fire unless you were one of the people who was there for it. if you have no prior knowledge of the fire? don’t expect brooke lohst to fill you in.

she’s incredibly protective of rich, and bringing up The Fire around him will end up with brooke in your face. (she spread a lot of gossip about The Fire in the day or two after it happened, and she still feels guilty. this is her penance.)

her favorite colors are pink and yellow.

she loves carnations and sunflowers the most but she also just loves flowers in general. she’s always wanted to have a little flower garden of her own.

her parents got divorced when she was in high school and she didn’t take it well. 

she managed to pass all of her classes in high school – she struggled a lot with french and english, but she kicked ass at math.

she loved chemistry because it was math based, but she hated doing actual experiments because they smelled weird.

she hates the term “oral fixation” because “it sounds so nasty” but she absolutely has one. she only drinks drinks with straws. she loves lollipops. she’ll chew gum all day long if she can. she chews on the ends of pens while taking notes. it’s a whole thing she’s pretending isn’t an actual thing.

Her Boyfriend is the first person who’s taken her seriously other than michael and jeremy – jeremy, who’s not interested, and michael, who’s gay. so it’s a pretty big deal. he respects her and doesn’t act like she’s dumb, which is the most important thing to brooke.

for so long she was always just Chloe’s Dumb Sidekick and she’s sick of being that.

she’s insecure, generally, but it’s a little bit more than your average woman her age. she doesn’t think she’s the prettiest or the nicest or the smartest. she knows she says some really dumb shit sometimes. she doesn’t dress super well or hang out with the right crowd. she sometimes spirals into super negative self-loathing talk but she’s trying to work past that. it’s easier with a stronger group of friends who see her worth and treat her accordingly - but breaking old habits from middle and high school is still hard, y’know?

she’s taller than Her Boyfriend, but she still wears heels sometimes because they look good and she likes them. Her Boyfriend is actually a big fan.

her dad had custody after the divorce. he has a lotta money. she still asks him for help sometimes because she knows it’s okay to do that, and she knows that her life is way easier because of that.

her dad also owns a house on a lake in upstate new york. she has a key and year-round access as long as her dad and his girlfriend aren’t there. (they rarely are.)

she has 36 tubes of various light pink lipsticks in an old shoebox that she uses to hold her makeup.

once a month she’ll go to lush and buy a glittery bath bomb and take a long bath with candles and a glass of wine and some good music.

she loves ariana grande and lana del rey. “they just, like, get me.”

she does her own nails and she’s gotten really really good at it.

she once dyed her hair lavender and hated it so much she showered four times a day for a week to get the dye out.

when she gets drunk, she says profound and super nice stuff. she’s told jake dillinger “you don’t have to worry about being the greatest, jake, ‘cause you’re already the greatest at being you.” she also told michael he’d always be in love with jeremy because it’s destiny. this is usually followed by her leaving to go make out with Her Boyfriend because she’s just an affectionate drunk.

moving to new york with Her Boyfriend was a joint decision made impulsively because they both hate new jersey and needed to get away. getting Her Boyfriend to someplace away from his house and all the bad memories back home was ideal. this was the perfect chance.

the biggest perk to moving away from home? the people here don’t know about The Fire. she and Her Boyfriend are free from that forever. it’s comforting.

they didn’t tell anyone back home they were moving, and she only kind of feels bad. “they’ll live! plus michael did it! and then jeremy! so we can totally do it too!”

Her Boyfriend and her started dating after high school. he was dorky and hilarious and confident and charming - before she knew it, she was totally smitten. she never would have expected to like someone like him, but he’s kind of the best thing to happen to her since she met chloe probably.

she’s also a really big fan of talking up Her Boyfriend to people before they meet him ‘cause no one ever expects this amazing heartthrob to be who he is, and she likes daring them to say anything rude about him.

she knows no one expected a girl like her to end up with a guy like him but it happened and she’s happy as fuck about it.

oh, and Her Boyfriend is Rich Goranski.

[awishdeal-blog]

These soccer clubs have the same name, but they also wear the same kind of jersey with the other....

In the diversified world development, personality has become the biggest pursuit of people. The most worried about young people is the name and the shirt, because they firmly believe that there is only one unique self in the world. The same is true of the football world. Every club and player wants to show their own unique side. On the issue of the name of the team, sometimes it is doomed to be unique, especially for the giants. Because of history and reputation, there are so many clubs in international football. For example, the global team called Arsenal is close to 20 Family. The stories and causes behind this are different, but full of fun and story.

The riverbed team in Argentina and Barcelona in Spain have many teams of the same name in the world.

 When you find that there is another completely similar self in the world, sometimes it is not only a warm film, but even a horror film. This is because of similar team names, which have created a lot of misunderstandings and jokes. In the same year, the "Sun" often produced a wonderful title: for example, Barcelona signed a heavy foreign aid, Liverpool team history introduced new players and so on. But a closer look at the content of the article will reveal that they refer to the re-named teams in the South American continent. This kind of news often disappoints the fans. Such means are often used in Spanish and Italian media.

 A flood of team names caused by a river

 The La Plata River is the second largest river in South America that is only inferior to the Amazon River. It flows through many countries in Brazil, Uruguay, Paraguay and Argentina. Because of this river, it has become a legend of many clubs. There are at least 10 clubs in the world that have used and are currently using the riverbed team.

 Argentina's riverbed team (full name riverbed) is one of the oldest teams in South America. The origin of the team’s name was entirely accidental. It was in 1901 that the founder of the riverbed club, Martinez, stopped at the river in the La Plata River and saw the sailboats on the river playing football with great interest. Because the British called the La Plata River the River Plate, Martinez named the team a river bed. Another way of saying this is that Martinez saw the ship's container writing the River Plate, and then created a team of sailors and dockers.

The Argentine riverbed, which is aiming to build a century-old brand, soon encountered an imitator. In 1932, in the capital of Uruguay, Montevideo, there was also a riverbed team. Their full name (Club Atletico River Plate) was identical to the Argentine riverbed. A well-known spectacle is that their founders, also in the light of the La Plata River, have formed a team. In fact, this team was merged by two teams, Olympia and Capro. Because of the age, why is it named after the riverbed? There is no clear record. The probability is that the team is also away from the La Plata River. Not far away.

The riverbed in Argentina is the most influential and most influential riverbed club in the world.

 These two teams are not the earliest sense of the riverbed team. As early as 1897, Uruguay already had a riverbed team. The full name of this team is called River Plate FCLUB (referred to as Riverbed FC). It is an amateur team composed of the port workers of Montevideo. The earliest name is Cagancha FC. When the team wants to sign up for the national football match in Uruguay. It was told that only English club names were accepted, because the players worked in the La Plata River Valley and immediately changed their name to the riverbed. This team has been dissolved and disappeared in 1925. It is not directly related to the riverbed that belongs to the same capital of Uruguay.

 In South America, there are many teams called riverbeds. The River River Plate in Paraguay was founded in 1911, and the Sociedade Esportiva River Plate in Brazil was founded in 1967. The SV River Plate in Aruba was founded in 1953. They were influenced by the Argentine team more or less, especially the riverbeds in Brazil and Aruba. The uniforms almost completely replicated the Argentine riverbed. The Potosí national team in Bolivia was first known as the riverbed, and their team logo was almost identical to the original.

 Because of its strength, the riverbed club and the fans of this team are also actively expanding the territory. In 2004, 31 Argentine loyalty riverbed fans set up a riverbed team in Puerto Rico, not only with the same name as their national team, but also with similar team uniforms. On January 1, 2007, the Puerto Rico Riverbed Club was formally established, but it was not a simple cottage and imitation. They obtained a licensing agreement for the Argentine riverbed, allowing clubs and teams to be operated under this name.

The team logo of the four riverbed teams, the upper left is the Argentine riverbed, the lower left is the Aruba riverbed, the upper right is the Puerto Rico riverbed, and the lower right is the river bed of Uruguay.

 On September 7, 2007, the Club Deportivo River Plate was established in Ecuador through the active support and funding of the Argentine Riverbed. The club was renamed the Guayaquil City Club in 2010.

 South American "British Premier": Your name, my last name

 As the birthplace of modern football, British footballers have been committed to spreading the seeds of football and happiness to the world. Among them, South America is the most affected, as can be seen from the names of many repeated teams. After a hundred years of wind and frost, these teams have different situations, but the same football dream, so that they never stop chasing.

 As we all know, Arsenal was founded in 1886 by a group of workers at the "Royal Arsenal" weapons manufacturing facility in southeast London, so the team has always been nicknamed the arsenal and gunmen. After the First World War, Arsenal, who was promoted to the top league, has become a representative of British football. They have traveled to the world for competitions and exchanges many times. The team's reputation has spread to all parts of the world.

Today, in the world, except for the arsenal of the Premier League, there are nearly 20 clubs with Arsenal in the club name, and there are more than 10 countries in the Netherlands, Brazil, Ghana, Montenegro, Russia, Ukraine, Argentina, and the Czech Republic. In Russia, Ukraine and other former Soviet Union regions, the name Arsenal is because Arsenal's original intention is the arsenal. The local team is inextricably linked with the military, so it is named here. In South America, it is simply because of pure worship.

In the Tula state of Russia, there is also a football team called the Arsenal, which is named after the gun production.

 Argentina has a team called the Salento arsenal (Arsenal de Sarandi), which was founded in 1957 by the former Argentine head of Grenada. The reason why the club was founded, in the words of the founding team of the year, is that In the worship of Arsenal. Since its inception, the Sarandi Arsenal has been full of imitation. The team's team logo and uniform color are blue and red, mainly to imitate the competition and independence of the same city (Aveyaneda), hoping to win more support. The Sarandi Arsenal won the first league title until 2012, when fans used to ridicule the Premier League Arsenal: "Your admirers have to imitate even for a long time without a crown." 1986 World Cup champion Bruce Chaga, now Chelsea goalkeeper Caballero is from this team.

Argentina’s  former head Grunardo (right) personally created the Sarandi arsenal team

 Also from the worship and extreme love, South America still has a lot of direct names in the Premier League as the club name. Everton de Vina del Mar was the result of a game in which the British Everton team traveled to the country in 1909. A group of British young immigrants who were inspired to form a team have been in existence ever since. Another rumor is quite interesting, saying that the British immigrants did not know that Everton visited Chile, but went to Argentina to watch Liverpool's visit. They wanted to set up a team called Liverpool, but they saw the game boring. , set up a team with their city called Everton. In any case, Everton is the enlightenment teacher of this team. In 2010, Everton, Chile was invited to the UK to play a brotherhood match with the real Everton, England Everton 2-0 wins.

Liverpool's visit to Argentina in the past inspired a group of South American teenagers who love football. This includes Liverpool in Uruguay, the capital (Montevideo) team founded in 1915, originally created by a team of local Catholic students who had many cultural exchanges with Liverpool, including football. So take it here. Another local saying in Uruguay is that the coal boats in the capital are mostly from the port of Liverpool, and the name is taken after seeing the words Liverpool on the coal box. In 2006, Uruguayan Liverpool changed the away jersey to red, which is very similar to Liverpool's home team uniform. In the winter of 2011, Suarez will join the Premier League Liverpool from Ajax, the British tabloid "The Sun" and other media concocted the title party: said Suarez can never join Liverpool, playing the South American Liverpool's boring Terrier, was scorned by fans. The Montevideo Rangers in Uruguay are also clearly influenced by the UK.

 Brazil's Corinthians have been named the most valuable team in South America by Forbes, worth $576.9 million. What many people don't know is that this São Paulo team was also inspired by a club in the UK. In 1910, the formation of a football club was also a movement of the upper class in Brazil, and civilians only had envy. At this time, a British team called Corinthian FC visited them and gave them the power to complete their dreams.

Brazilian Corinthians fans, so far grateful to the British Corinthians 100 years ago, the bottom right corner of the British Corinthians

 The British Corinthians team was founded in 1880, the club to promote the beauty of football as its greatest responsibility, once refused to participate in any competitions related to rankings and trophies, so the beginning of the establishment has not been the FA Cup and League One. The magic of this team is that the players in the team have their own skills, often beat the professional team. In 1904, they had a 11-3 victory over Manchester United. In 1900, they scored the British League championship. In 1884, they won the FA Cup champion Blackburn 8-1, and in 1903, the 10-3 blood washed FA Cup champion Aston Villa. Shocked England. Such a team and such a concept touched the five railway workers in São Paulo at that time, and formed the Brazilian Corinthians.

 After 102 years, Corinthians defeated Chelsea in the World Cup, standing on the top of the world, while the British Corinthians still in the British 8th league. In 2015, Corinthians of Brazil and Corinthians of the United Kingdom held a warm-up match to express their tribute.

Corinthians of Brazil and the British Corinthians finally met in a friendly match in 2015

 There is also a team in the state of São Paulo, Brazil called Clube Atletico Juventus. This team was founded in 1924 by the Italian descendant Crespi. The name of the club was his own name. He read a cross talk. The feeling of the middle mouth, called the São Paulo Cotonicio-Rudolf-Crespa-Futburg club, in 1925, in order to express respect for Juventus, Crespi renamed the club Juventus, But because his son Adriano is the loyalty of the Turin team, the team's team logo and uniform are similar to the Turin team.

 Similar to many South American teams, many African teams are often named after the Premier League team. The main reason is also worship. In Sierra Leone, in honor of Sir Matthews in Blackpool, and a tribute, a family called Soko Luolian’s team was renamed “Mighty Blackpool FC”. In addition, in Balecum, Ghana, there is not only a team called Chelsea, but also a team called Arsenal, and South Africa has a Blackburn. Although they are still working in their own low-level leagues, they may wait a few years and they will cast their own legends.

 The great dreams of the giants

 "Always imitated, never surpassed" is the trait of many wealthy teams, which also makes their followers around the world never stop.

 South America's largest city, Guayaquil, has a Barcelona Sporting Club. The team's name, team logo and uniform are the same as those of La Liga. This most successful team in Ecuador has won 15 national championships. In 1925, a Spanish immigrant named Perez set up the team in the name of his hometown of Barcelona. On the other hand, he also hoped that his team would use Barcelona as a learning goal. After nearly a hundred years of development, this Ecuadorian club has developed into a comprehensive sports club that combines basketball, baseball, tennis, swimming and athletics.

Barcelona in Ecuador is also dominant in the domestic league

 There are only 34,000 people in Gibraltar in Europe, and Manchester United has always been. The team that was founded in 1962, the original team uniform and club name is the same as the Red Devils. They are not simple cottages. The team used the name of Manchester United and was allowed by Sir Busby. Until 2013, after joining UEFA in Gibraltar, in order to avoid a possible encounter in the Champions League and Manchester United in the future, the name was unclear and changed its name to "Manchester United 1962".

 In Manchester, there is another wonderful red devil, that is, United of Manchester, the team that reversed Manchester United's English name, was established in 2005. The original intention was to oppose the American businessman Glazer family to control the team. At the beginning of the establishment, many former Manchester United fans were highly praised. At that time, the coach Ferguson was even furious because he was questioned by reporters at the press conference. Now that Lianman is in the sixth league of England, they are the largest club owned by the UK. The club is managed in a unique way. Members are equally voting to make decisions. Their grand goal is to surpass Manchester United in the future, although this does not seem to Too realistic.

The home atmosphere of United of Manchester is also very popular

 Behind the duplicate team name: a strange encyclopedia

 Examples of club names are everywhere in the world. The reasons behind it are different and can be called a strange and interesting encyclopedia.

 In Cape Town, South Africa, there is a team called Ajax Cape Town. The team was formed in 1999 by the combination of the local seven-star and Cape Town. Their major shareholder is the Ajax Club in the Netherlands, and Ajax in Cape Town is one of their satellite clubs. The Dutch management team will send excellent youth coaches to select people here. Pinar, who played for Everton, came from Cape Town Ajax and then went to the Dutch team. The Ajax satellite club model is being imitated by many luxury clubs.

Former Everton player Pinar debuted from Ajax, South Africa, and then traveled to Ajax, the Netherlands.

 Another reason for the name is a deep historical imprint. For example, in Angola, Cape Verde and Mozambique in Africa, there is a team named Benfica. These places were once Portuguese colonies, so the name of the team has continued. This situation is more common in Africa and South America.

Portugal's Benfica has many teams of the same name in Africa.

 Australia was once a British colony, so many of the names here are the same as in the UK, such as Newcastle, their sixth largest city. The team here is also known as Newcastle. Before 2005, this team used the Newcastle United and Newcastle Jets. After the reorganization in 2005, in order to distinguish it from the Premier League's Newcastle, the name was changed to Newcastle Jet. The team logo was specially added with three FA-18s. Wasp combat attack aircraft. In June 2016, Shenzhen Lehman acquired the club and owned a 100% stake in the team. The former TEDA player Ma Leilei had a short-lived effect. Also in Canada and the United States, there is also a place name called New Castle, where the team naturally also hits the Premier League's Newcastle.

After many years of restructuring, Newcastle jets from the team to the team uniform, no shadow of the Premier League Newcastle

 In the Caribbean and other regions, there are more famous teams. They often do not have the same name as a club, but rather put together the names of several giants. In Dominica, for example, the country's most successful club is called (Club Barcelona Atletico), and the British media said that the team that was founded in 1989 was inspired by Barcelona and Atletico Madrid. The team logo is very similar to Barcelona. A team in Bermuda called the Southampton Rangers Sports Club, inspired by the English Premier Saints and the Glasgow Rangers in Scotland. Barbados also has a team called (Youth Milan FC), which makes a simple copy of the name of Serie A AC Milan.

 Buy more, fast, good and provincial soccer jerseys, you would like to go to awishdeal.cn

[moonsofmars-writes]

Just a normal date

Fandom: Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro, Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez Characters: Jim Lake Jr. (Tales of Arcadia), Claire Nuñez Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Sort Of, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Some light angst, Anxious Jim, Post-Season 3 (Trollhunters), jlaire, Inspired by Fanart, Halloween

Summary: While in New Jersey, Claire asks Jim out for a surprise date.

“Jim, stop.” When he looks up, he finds Claire watching him with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

“What? I didn’t say anything!”

“You are overthinking! Don’t try to deny it,” she adds when he opens his mouth, “I can see it. Calm down, everything will be fine.” Her gaze softens, her grip on his hand tightens a little. “We are going to have fun, I promise. Trust me?”

Notes: I saw this amazing fanart by @sparemoon​ and simply had to write something about it because I loved the idea! It’s just so perfect! I hope you enjoy! 

It’s been weeks since they left Arcadia, weeks since he chose to become, as Merlin put it, a “true Trollhunter.” Yet Jim is still not used to feeling so incredibly vulnerable when he walks on plain sight, where everyone could see him and - well, most likely run away screaming. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asks, looking around nervously. Perhaps he is worrying too much; it’s late, the moon is a thin silver cut in the dark blue of the sky, and the streets are illuminated only by the warm light of the lampposts. The few people they met were dark, distant figures that quickly disappeared in other roads. He still feels nervous as he was walking in broad daylight. After all, this is not Arcadia. He highly doubts that here in New Jersey people would ignore a weird guy made of stone wandering in their roads, if they noticed him. He truly misses home right now. He and his friends hunted Goblins and fought Gumm-Gumms nightly and the only person who ever got suspicious was Eli! Things were so much easier there. 

“Don’t worry!” Claire glances back at him, a reassuring smile on her lips, and keeps dragging him down the street. “There is no danger, I promise you. I have a plan!” 

Read on AO3

“If you say so,” Jim says under his breath. His muscles are still tense and he is ready to jump away from the road if he hears someone approaching. Why has Claire insisted that they walked down the streets? But she seemed so sure when she asked him out for a date, so excited when she convinced him to go into town by her side, that Jim didn’t have the heart to refuse. They have grown closer during their trip and there have been plenty of strolls, just the two of them, holding hands and stargazing, but the last time they had a date in town was ... wait, how long ago was it? There had been that time before the Eternal Night, with Toby and Darci, but Morgana definitely ruined it. And before … Well, there were their patrols but they weren't very romantic - maybe before Gunmar got out of the Darklands? No, before there was Angor Rot and ... Jim sighs, giving up. Apparently being Trollhunters ruined way too many of their dates. 

That’s another reason why Claire deserves to have this. A normal date - or the closest thing to a normal date her half-troll boyfriend can offer her. She would deserve so much more, though, he muses, watching her walk in front of him. She deserves to be taken to dance or to the movie theatre or to eat something in a fancy restaurant - with someone who can actually eat with her instead of munching the cutlery. He hates the fact that he can’t do any of these things anymore. 

“Jim, stop.” When he looks up, he finds Claire watching him with furrowed brows and pursed lips. 

“What? I didn’t say anything!”

“You are overthinking! Don’t try to deny it,” she adds when he opens his mouth, “I can see it. Calm down, everything will be fine.” Her gaze softens, her grip on his hand tightens a little. “We are going to have fun, I promise. Trust me?”

It’s not like Jim has any other choice when she looks at him like that. “Always,” he mutters and he feels his cheeks getting warmer when she laughs. She let her hair down tonight and wears dark makeup around her eyes that make them look larger and intense. She is beautiful. 

“Okay Romeo, then let’s go! We are almost there!” She turns around, making her black skirt lift a little around her legs. The dress she is wearing is new, it has large sleeves and a hood, but he hasn't had much time to admire her before she put on a sweater. Has he told her already how good she looks with that dress? Maybe he should tell her again, if only to see her smile. He’ll have to remember to do that later. 

“Can you tell me where we are going now?” He asks instead. 

She turns just for a moment to wink at him, “You’ll see.” 

Jim knows better than to ask her again, he is not going to convince her to talk. He sighs and keeps following her, occasionally glancing around to make sure that no one is watching them from the windows. 

He hears the music first - loud and rhythmical, it feels closer every step he takes. His ears twitch and his nose wrinkles when the smell of smoke and food reaches him. That’s when they turn the corner and he can finally see the house down the street. Jim halts, his mouth falling open. The walls are illuminated by multicoloured lights and he can see the silhouettes of people dancing in the yard. “Is that - a party?”

“Yes!” Her mouth is curved into a wide grin, “Here’s where I came this morning. They said everyone could come and that we could join whenever we wanted!”

“But Claire, I …” He swallows and takes a step back, eyes darting from side to side looking for a hiding place. “I am so sorry, I can’t come with you! They would start screaming as soon as they see me, and I just don’t - I don’t want to ruin everything. You’ll get in trouble and - and the others are waiting for us, I can’t risk them being discovered!” His chest starts hurting and he has to stop to take a deep breath. 

“Jim, calm down, please!” Claire says as she reaches him and takes his hands in hers, “it’s okay! Do you -”

“It’s not okay!” He interrupts her, “You deserve someone who can take you at parties or wherever you want to go, and instead you are stuck with me.” He looks down, mouth clenched, and pulls back, away from the light of the lampposts and towards the shadow. 

“Jim, please, stop." He hesitates, eyes still fixed on the ground, and that's enough for her to reach him. He feels her fingers travel along his chin and cheeks, then rubbing tiny circles on his skin. "Look at me," she whispers. When he does, he finds her staring at him with determined eyes, brows slightly furrowed. “I don’t want a random guy who can take me at parties," she says firmly. "I want you, Jim Lake Jr. You and no one else. Do you get it? I love you, no matter where you can or cannot take me." 

He stares at her for long moments, breath stuck in his throat. She is not lying, she wouldn’t - she is really okay with it. Something warm seems to melt in his chest, and finally he feels his muscles relaxing. "I love you too," he manages to croak, making her smile. 

"Now, please, breathe."

He does, and his chest starts feeling lighter. Heaving a sigh, he leans towards her until their foreheads are touching. “You are incredible, Claire Nuñez.”

“We both are,” she chuckles, “Now, will you let me explain?”

His voice is small when he answers, “Okay.” 

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Erm … Saturday?”

“No - well, yes, but it’s not just a common Saturday!”

Jim lifts an eyebrow, “Oh?”

She grins and takes something out of her purse. He doesn’t get what she is doing until she has stuffed it into her mouth and gave him a wide smile to show a pair of white plastic fangs. “It’s Halloween, Jim! Tonight we can be whatever we want!”

Halloween? Oh. Oh. “Claire,” he says breathlessly, “you are a genius!” 

“I know,” she laughs as she takes off her sweater, revealing her dress - now he gets it, it's a costume! “Now, let me finish my makeup and then let’s go having some fun!” 

Minutes later, they are entering the house’s yard, Claire now wearing black lipstick and some face powder. She waves at someone in the crowd, most likely the people she spoke with this morning, but Jim is too distracted by the people to identify them. Everyone is wearing costumes, makeup, even masks and fake horns and fangs. His gut clenches when he notices that some people still stare at him, but theirs are not looks of fear, they are looks of - wonder and admiration? 

“Wow dude, cool makeup!” A girl comments walking past him, winking at him front under a black witch hat. “Where did you get those fangs?”

“I, uhm, online?” Jim mutters before Claire drags him away. The girl is soon lost in the crowd, but she is not the only one who compliments him for his “incredible costume” before they finally get to the dance floor. 

Claire spins around so that she can face him and takes both his hands. “Now, may I have this dance?” She asks, beaming at him. 

“Of course,” he smiles, “No Troll assassin should ruin it this time.”

“Don’t say that!” She laughs, “Now, dance with me.”

Admittedly, Jim didn't have much time to practice his dancing skills in the past few months, and at first, he feels a little awkward. What if he ends up drawing attention, what if someone realises his it's not a costume? But then, he focuses on her. Claire dances, eyes closed, a wide smile on her lips, so obviously having fun that his heart warms. Finally, he lets himself go and dances with her - and it’s liberating, like the burden he felt over his shoulders until now has finally disappeared. A laugh escapes him as he takes her hand in his to make her twirl. No one is looking at them - not for the reasons he feared at least, and for once, he realises, no one is going to attack them in the middle of their date. For once, he can be a normal boy enjoying a date with his girlfriend. He can be just Jim again, tonight.