#laura-eve

[wearevillaneve]

Luke Jennings spills the tea on why he decided to resurrect Villanelle after a talentless hack murdered his greatest character.

[carrionofamurderprey]

girls when they lose their lovers to/close to the water

bonus adding robin and nancy because this was the moment robin felt like she “lost” nancy to steve and his stupid hair

[sihtryggr]

ABOUT ME: RHAENYS TARGARYEN (DAUGHTER OF AEMON).

[wososcripts]

I've Been Getting Lost in Translation (Part Two)

(these kits are god awful but you didn't hear that from me)

stina blackstenius x reader; part one can be found here

Summary: You finally get to meet your girlfriend’s parents, but you aren’t sure they’re aware the two of you are more than just friends.

A/N: Here's part two finally! I hope it's worth the wait for you all lol, make sure you read the first part as well as that author's note for clarity! As usual, nothing I write is intended to speculate or infringe upon player's personal lives, it's all 100% fiction and done in good fun.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings⚠️: very very slight mentions of anxiety and self-harm behaviors, but it really isn't featured here more than a passing mention

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You could feel Stina's eyes on you as you came down the stairs and joined the group in getting ready to go, you felt them on you in the car, and once you got to the skating rink. She never seemed to not be looking at you, sending worried little glances your way that you just couldn't interact with right now if you wanted to keep it together. 

"Here are Linnéa's extra skates." Stina's mom held out a pair of ice skates for you to grab. "I'm not sure they'll fit, but Stina said you were around the same size as her sister… otherwise you can rent a pair here." 

She gave you a warm smile and left you to try them on, already lacing up her own and taking off on the ice. 

It was a beautiful day, sunny and cold with a thick layer of snow on the ground from a couple of days ago. And the rink was amazing. It was well maintained, but still had the feeling of a pond you'd have skated on as a child. 

Stina's sister came to sit down next to you, explaining some of the quirks with the skates. You had to pull the laces hard to get them to fit in the clasps at the top before you could tie them, she showed you, yanking on your ankle a little roughly for your liking.

"Linnéa, be careful with her foot!" You heard Stina call from the ice. 

Linnéa waved her off, turning to you.

"Does it hurt?" 

You shook your head.

"That ankle is just a bit sensitive. I broke it in June." 

"Well the laces being tight will make sure that doesn't happen again," she laughed, then glanced to make sure Stina wasn't looking at you two and said something lowly to you. "How is she doing in London? I mean she says everything is going well, but it's hard to know when we're not there to see her."

You smiled, genuinely for the first time in hours.

"She's doing great. Everyone loves her, she's been playing fantastic this season, she gets along well with the coach and the players. I really don't think there's anything for you to worry about." 

"It's good that she has you and Amanda there. She seems reserved but without a few good people around her I know she gets lonely."

"What are you two slow pokes waiting for?" Stina's father skated by, gesturing for you to come on. 

Linnéa followed him, starting a conversation with him in Swedish you could hardly grasp onto. How this family managed to speak so quickly, you were lost on.

You joined the rest of them on the ice, trying to ignore your poor mood from earlier. Moping around was no way to make a first impression. So you tried to suck it up and let the joy of the moment overtake you. You hadn't skated in years, having played in Italy for a bit before moving to London. There never seemed to be enough time, or good rinks close by. And when you were back in Germany you mostly wanted to see your family and Laura. 

You ended up skating with Stina’s nephew, a boy around seven. He was already impressively steady on his skates, something you would not have been able to say at his age. But still, he held your hand and talked your ear off in Swedish you only partially understood. 

"Did you come with aunt Stina?" He asked, to which you nodded. 

"We play for the same football team in England." You explained in your slow Swedish.

"Did you come here on a plane?" You nodded again, smiling. 

"We flew here yesterday, from London."

The boy considered you for a moment.

"You speak funny," he proclaimed, letting go of your hand, "watch what I can do!" 

And with that he skated in front of you, circling around you playfully as you stood still. You grinned at him, giving a round of applause when he was done.  

“Hey,” you heard Stina come up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder as to not startle you. 

You gave her a smile which she softly returned. 

“What are you two up to?” 

“He’s showing me his incredible skating skills,” You replied.

Stina’s nephew nodded and twirled around again, clearly looking for more praise. 

Stina cheered him on, catching one of his hands and spinning him once more. 

“Very impressive,” she praised, “Unfortunately we’ve got to go eat some lunch. It’s getting dark out.” 

You looked up at the sky, having not realized that she was right, the sun was setting already. You checked your phone and saw it was barely one pm. 

Stina’s nephew nodded and shot forward ahead of you two, rushing back to where his parents were. 

“How are you doing?” Stina asked. 

You could tell she was still unsettled by what had happened earlier in the bathroom by how careful she was with you, how she treated each interaction tentatively. You felt badly for making her worry, for turning this visit with her family into yet another stressful situation rather than the relaxing break you both needed.

“I’m doing all right.” You gave the hand on your shoulder a squeeze and started to skate in the direction of the exit, a little further away from her than you would normally. 

You felt the distance seemingly in every stride you took, agonizing over your choice to move further from her. You were upset by the lack of any physical affection, and yet here you were removing even the chance that she might initiate it. It was self sabotage, you knew. Yet it was still difficult not to indulge in it. Whether she felt the distance as much as you did, you couldn’t know. 

“Why does Aunt Stina’s friend speak so funny?” You heard Stina’s nephew ask his mother, to which you couldn’t help but chuckle as she scolded him lightly. 

“She’s still learning Swedish, baby, she’s from Germany.”

“You’re from Germany?” The boy asked you once you were in front of him, skates in hand. He said it as if it were some far away land, not in the same continent. 

You nodded and ruffled his hair a bit, giving him a smile. You sat down on the bench, unlacing your skates and indulging the boy as he asked you several questions about Germany and what it was like there. You noticed Stina had a firm watch on you as you started to take your left skate off—the one that Linnéa had tugged on. It was aching a bit, that was true. But you simply massaged it for a moment and stood up like you couldn't feel a thing.

“Thanks again for lending me the skates,” You said to Stina’s mother, giving them back carefully. 

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The eight of you decided to eat at a small restaurant not far from the rink. Sunset was already in full force, vibrant orange and pink staining the sky around you.

Stina had borrowed her sister's car that morning, preferring not to be squished in the back seat all day. The drive over gave you a bit of privacy, which you spent in relative quiet, Stina's playlist playing softly through the car speakers. Her hand was on your thigh innocently, and every once in a while she glanced over. Maybe she expected you to say something. But you knew if you started now, you wouldn't be able to stop.

You were thankful for your sturdy sneakers as you stepped out of the car, a twinge in your ankle rippling up your leg. It was more sore than you would've expected, but nothing you were overly worried about. The doctor had warned you that some days might give you more trouble than others, and that was normal. You would just have to take care to ice it this evening before you went to bed. 

And by the looks of it, Stina would be making sure you did anyway. 

She was robbed of her chance to ask if it was bothering you by her nephew, who seemed to have taken a real liking to you. He came barreling at you, arms open for you to lift him up. You weren't all that tall, and he certainly had inherited his family's height, so lifting him was a bit complicated. Eventually the two of you decided on a piggy back after some awkward maneuvering. 

"He likes you," Stina's brother commented, tickling his son lightly. "He's normally quite reserved around new adults."

You smiled at him, feeling your heart soar. This, this was what you wanted from the trip. You wanted Stina's family to love you, for her not to have to worry about you fitting in or being accepted. 

"She's going to sit next to me!" The boy announced once the waiter had shown you to your booth.

"Do I need to be worried?" Stina joked, to which her nephew stuck out his tongue. 

She returned the favor playfully.

"No need to fight, there's plenty of me to go around."

The booth wasn't all that big, which was how you explained Stina's closeness. Most of your right side was pressed right up against hers, something you initially tried to rectify, only to receive a strange look from her. You cursed yourself for how unsure you were being. You'd spent months like this before the two of you had started dating and it nearly drove you (and your teammates) crazy. 

You let Stina order for you since she had been here before and she knew what you liked. The tiredness was beginning to hit you. It was dark outside now, and between skating for a few hours, entertaining a seven year old, and worrying over your relationship, you'd had quite the day. Thankfully you had ibuprofen in your bag in case of one of your headaches. 

Whatever Stina had ordered you looked delicious when it came out. You dug in, realizing then how hungry you were. Usually you had a snack in between breakfast and lunch particularly on training days.  

You were surprised to feel a hand on your knee a little while later. You were listening to a story her nephew was intently explaining to you as he colored in one of the books his mother brought for him, and suddenly it was there. It was something so completely normal you couldn't believe how much it shocked you. If anything, that was proof of how much you had gotten in your own head. Back home it would be impossible to imagine sitting next to Stina without her hand resting lightly on you somewhere. It helped ground her, she said. 

But now, your thoughts were racing with every move she made. Stina's fingers drummed absentmindedly on your thigh, the rhythm of them distracting you slightly from her nephew. She didn't usually tap unless she was feeling fidgety, which meant she was anxious. Was Stina feeling something similar to what you were? Was it out of anxiety that she was keeping things secret? The idea of your relationship inspiring such emotions in your girlfriend made the lump in your throat that much bigger. Maybe she was picking up on your mood. Stina had always been very perceptive (because she spent so much time quietly watching, you often teased) and seemed to pick up on your moods without issue. But you’d been trying to hide this. 

You caught her eye and sent her a quick smile. A piece of hair had fallen into her eyes and you wanted desperately to push it behind her ear as you normally would. But the gesture seemed too intimate now. It was as if you were in a glass cage, every move observed with the chance of exposing your feelings. But what was the problem in that, you asked yourself. You loved Stina, openly. Why were you letting this affect you so much? 

Stina's sister declared that she wanted to do a bit of shopping after lunch, which the rest of the group was perfectly amicable to. It wasn’t all that late, and you’d get a chance to see the Christmas market all lit up. Stina's nephew certainly hadn't taken much convincing once Linnéa mentioned stopping at the toy store to look at something.

"Am I your favorite now?" Linnéa asked him, looking at you with a sly grin on her face.

"Yes!" The boy cried, smiling wide.

"You can't buy true connection, Linnéa," you teased, still helping to color.

"Can't buy connection." The boy repeated wisely. "I still like Stina's friend too."

You smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, suggesting quietly in his ear that you move to another page and make a drawing for Stina. 

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Linnéa joined you and Stina in the car on the way back to their parent’s house, adding to the tension that had been building since the eight of you had gone shopping. Stina had stuck close to your side, and you’d done your best to act normally while keeping some distance. You needed to sort your head out, and being close to her wasn’t helping. Thankfully her nephew provided a good excuse to be tugged in all sorts of directions—he had decided you were his favorite once more, leaving Linnéa to hang behind with her siblings. 

Once you had reached the Christmas market, after a short detour in the toy store where you had agreed to get matching dragon plushies for you and the young boy, each of you wandered off on your own. You, Stina’s brother, and her nephew headed first for the big tree that had been decorated in the square while the rest went to get something hot to drink. You had managed to sneak off under the guise of having to find the toilet, Stina’s brother covering for you if you needed. You wanted to get a small gift for Stina, something in addition to what you’d already purchased. Most of it was back in London since bringing it all on the plane was a hassle. 

You’d found a perfect gift at a small stall tucked away near the edge of the market where an older woman was selling vintage jewelry. You picked through it slowly at first, not sure you would find anything. Most of it was too gaudy for Stina, and too impractical. But then you found a simple pendant with two stones in the middle—an amethyst and an opal, each of your birth stones, set in a complex circular pattern that reminded you a bit of some of the celtic designs Katie had shown you. You had purchased it immediately, no matter that it was overpriced. 

Now you were sat listening to Linnéa’s music quietly as the three of you drove, trying not to nod off. You were unsuccessful, because the next thing you remembered was being jolted awake by Linnéa’s door falling shut. You heard Stina chuckle next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, likely amused by how suddenly you had shot up. You chuckled along with her and patted her hand, putting your coat back on to brave the cold once more. 

“Is your ankle bothering you?” Stina asked you quietly as you all began to walk back to the house for dinner preparations. 

You thought that you had been hiding the slight limp in your walk well, certainly nobody else had noticed, but nothing escaped your girlfriend apparently. 

“Only a bit. I’ll ice it later and it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“You should’ve said something if it was hurting, I told Linnea to be careful—” she was beginning to ramble, but you cut her off. 

“Stina, it’s fine. I said I’m fine. I know what I can and cannot handle.” 

It was a lie, and the both of you knew it. You were a stubborn bastard. Stina had been with you through your recovery, through every incident where you pushed yourself too hard only to have to face the consequences. She’d found you on the kitchen floor, comforted you after a physio session, seen you train with the team for the first time again. It was insulting to allege she didn’t know when too much was too much.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, already feeling bad for snapping at her. It wasn’t fair, she didn’t even know what was wrong and you were what? Punishing her? 

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again. Do you know how horrible that was? To see you in that much pain?” Stina’s eyes were glossy with just the memory. 

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You and Stina didn’t talk much about your injury and recovery. It was still too fresh, barely more than a couple months old. The crack of your ankle, the blood, her tears, her gentle shaking hands, it was all still at the front of your mind. 

You were saved from having to formulate a response by Stina’s mother calling her to the kitchen. She left you, only looking back once to give you a slight smile, showing that the two of you were okay. But you knew the time to confront what was going on needed to come quickly. 

You sat with Stina’s brother on the sofa and watched some Swedish Christmas program mindlessly. Mostly you were thinking about how to go about talking to Stina later. “Directness is key”, Laura's voice reminded you. You just had to say it, without blaming anyone. Just focus on yourself, your feelings.

It wasn't clear how long you sat there quietly before dozing off again, but Stina’s nephew was the one to wake you for dinner, doing so by climbing into your lap. 

"It's dinner time." He said, poking at your shoulder. 

You forced your eyes open, giving him a drowsy smile. 

“Okay, Prinzi” you replied, picking him up off your lap so you could stand. He managed to hang on to your side though, and you ended up lifting him onto your hip anyway. 

Fuck, you cursed silently as you noticed your ankle was even more tender than when you had fallen asleep. You’d have to check for bruising later and keep off it for the rest of the night. But still, you carried Stina’s nephew to the table with ease, setting him in his seat next to his mother who shot you a sheepish smile. 

“Tired, aren’t you?” You heard a voice behind you, and then a gentle hand at your back. 

It was Stina, who smelled of something sweet in the kitchen. You wanted to lean back into her and not move for the rest of the night. Instead you just nodded. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“You’ve been playing babysitter all day, that might be part of it.” She smiled. 

You nodded in agreement, a smile on your face as well.

"You're so good with him," she whispered into your ear, "it's adorable."

You had caught her taking pictures of you with her nephew a couple times throughout the day, and now, as you briefly as her phone light up with notification, it seemed she had set one of them as her lockscreen.

"I try my best. He's a good kid."

"Well, he's in good hands."

Dinner was delicious, but relatively uneventful. After an entire day together everyone was happy to sit quietly and enjoy the food. Stina’s nephew joked with you a couple times, still wanting all of your attention, but even he seemed to be winding down for the night.

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After the table was cleared and the dishes had been washed (a task delegated to Stina’s brother this time), the group splintered off. Linnéa was going out to meet with a few friends, Stina’s brother and his family had to go home before it got too late, and Stina’s parents had settled in the living room. The two of you were welcome to join, they offered, for a nightcap. But it was clear that maybe you and Stina needed some alone time. 

So you bid everyone good night, thanking them for a wonderful day, and giving Stina’s nephew a big hug goodbye (even though you would be seeing him the next day). You tried to prepare for what you knew was a difficult discussion coming your way. In and out, you tried to remind yourself.

“Go ahead, I’ll be in in a minute,” Stina told you when you reached the bedroom door.

You nodded, thankful for the extra minute to think. The room was quiet around you. You felt the quilt beneath your hands, taking another deep breath. You didn’t need to overthink this. It was simple. And Stina loved you, you reminded yourself. 

There was a knock at the door, after which Stina slowly opened it and slipped inside. She had a bag of ice in her hands, presumably for your ankle. Already you felt tears spring to your eyes.

“Here, for your foot.” 

She lifted your leg, grabbing a chair for you to prop it up on, and pressed the ice to it.  

“So,” Stina paused, still standing before you, “What’s wrong?” You opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could say anything. “And don’t say it’s nothing, I can tell it isn’t. And I want to know, I want you to tell me, whatever it is.” 

You chuckled internally at the similarity to Laura’s demand earlier. Stina knew you too well for you to hide from her either. That made your heart ache a little bit. 

Your lack of response seemed to signal to Stina that you needed more convincing because she knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in hers. 

“What were you doing in the bathroom earlier? Why did you look so upset? All day, I can see you trying to hide it, but I know you’re hiding something. It hurts me too, to see you like that. It’s like a thorn in my ribs.” 

Your lip trembled, and you bit down hard on your cheek until you could feel blood in your mouth. It rushed onto your tongue, the metallic taste distracting you from the urge to cry. Stina had caught your gaze, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“Do your parents know we’re together?” Your voice held steady as you asked. 

Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. Stina let out an airy chuckle, looking relieved. You brought your gaze to the floor, eyes wetting rapidly, which Stina quickly noticed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” She brought a hand up to your face, brushing the hair away from it. She sat next to you, moving up from where she was kneeling, and pulled you into her. “Look at me.” She put a finger under your chin, drawing your gaze to hers. The sight of your eyes nearly broke her heart. She hadn’t seen your face crumple in on itself like this since you were injured. The idea that something she had done could have caused you pain like that made her feel indescribably awful. 

“Of course they know, of course they do.”

You let out a sigh of relief, putting your head in your hands. You felt a hand on the back of your neck, rubbing the skin there tenderly.

“Then why have you been so…distant all day? And yesterday? This morning at breakfast, I couldn’t even hold your hand. It seemed like you didn’t want your family to see us together. I thought maybe you… I don’t know, that you were unsure of us, or afraid, or—” 

“That’s not it, I promise,” she said, wiping a tear away that had fallen from your eye. Fuck, you hated crying this much. “It’s just odd for me to be affectionate in front of my parents. They never were very touchy with each other in front of us, so it just feels like some unspoken rule. And then when my brother married his wife, they were the same way. But I promise, tomorrow I’ll try—”

You shook your head. You could tell Stina was upset too now, and you didn't want that. That wasn't the point of this. Tears continued to stream from your eyes, and you continued to swipe harshly at them.

“No, no. It’s all right. I don’t need you to be affectionate in front of them, I understand. It just seemed strange when I didn’t know the reason. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Stina seemed at a loss for a moment, truly shocked. She pulled you into a kiss, pressing her lips firmly against yours once, twice, three times before pulling back.

“You’re in this house too. And we’re a team: you don’t just have to do things the way we do. I’m supposed to meet you in the middle, okay? We’re in a relationship—if something hurts you, or is important to you, I want to know.” 

You nodded, squeezing her hand as a small thanks. The taste of blood trickled through your mouth, reminding you of the wound. You did your best to swallow it down. 

“Come on, let’s get you into something more comfortable,” Stina said, helping you up. 

She opened the dresser, looking for some of the pants you had brought. When she turned around, in her hands were a pair of grey sweats and one of her long sleeve Swedish national team shirts. 

“Sit,” she requested, pointing at the bed. 

You followed, sitting and allowing her to help you undress. It was totally non-sexual, Stina was wholly concerned in caring for you. Once you were dressed in the casual clothes she had picked out, Stina returned to your side, your ankle in her lap as she massaged the skin gently. 

“Was that what made you think I hadn’t told them?”

“It seems silly… but I also overheard them talking to your aunt in the kitchen last night.” You took a breath, trying to banish the tears for good. “I know my Swedish isn’t that good, but I was doing my best to keep up, and they kept referring to me as your friend, your friend, Stina’s friend.” 

Stina looked at you, confused. 

“They did? What did they say?” 

You did your best to repeat the word, cringing at your own pronunciation. 

“Väninna?” She repeated, and you nodded. “Who told you that means friend?”

“Amanda.” you replied, “She said it was like a female friend.” 

Stina shook her head, laughing. 

“What?” You asked, a bit indignant. 

“It does mean that. But it also means girlfriend. I don’t think Amanda thought you’d ever run into the word. It’s a bit old fashioned.” Stina explained. 

“Oh…” you said, feeling very stupid, and very relieved. 

“Come here,” Stina said, leaning back against the headrest and gesturing for you to settle against her. She grabbed the bag of ice on your foot and shifted it to lie comfortably again. “I’m sorry you had to go through the day thinking I’d invited you here under friendly pretenses.” 

You could tell she was making fun of you, just a little, but that there was sincerity in her voice too. One of her hands crept under your shirt, resting comfortingly on your stomach. 

“I hope you don’t treat all your friends like you did yesterday morning.” You replied, snuggling closer to her. For the first time in days your head wasn’t full of doubts, and you could relax wholly. You just wanted to enjoy her warmth around you. You had faith that tomorrow would be great, that you could finally enjoy your time here the way you were meant to.

She chuckled, hugging you closer to her and pressing a kiss to your upward-turned lips. 

“No, definitely not. I usually have better decision making skills around most people.” 

“I guess I’m just special then, huh?”

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Urban fantasy pets on New Year's Eve:

Griffin - Stubbornly pretending that it does not care and just...doesn't feel like going for a walk or a flight right now. For no reason at all. Just because it happens to feel like staying inside right now

Salamanders - Keep trying to climb up through the chimney of their fireplace because the airs smells so unusually delicious tonight. Must be bribed with hard coal to keep them inside

Kirkegrim - Circling its home in protection, thereby roaming through the dark like a ghostly canine shape in the smoke and dust filling the air, its red eyes lit up under every flicker of light from above. Probably absolutely terrifying the neighbours

Hippocamp - Still just chilling in the water. Really not that bothered, as long as it can dive down deep enough when there's too many flashing lights

Dragon - Thinks roman candles are a delicious snack. Chews on sparklers. Will end up spitting out spinning balls of coloured fire. Must be locked inside the house and is so so sulky about it

Jackalope - Having a very bad no good horrible time due to all the sudden noises. Prefers to burrow away or hide against its human. At risk of bolting at accidentally driving its antlers through random objects

Phoenix - Escaped its aviary. Soaring among the fireworks. Having the time of its (current) life

[carmilllaofstyria]

"You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me. "

[whitestone-is-for-lovers]

hey uh. remember when imogen was sitting with laudna's dead body with laudna's head in her lap and brushing the hair out of her face and saying "come back. come back." remember when this canonically happened

[ananke-xiii]

The natural order is absent fathers.

I’ve been trying to understand what the heck “natural order” means in Supernatural until I’ve finally realized I was giving it too much thought than necessary because it was much simpler than what I had in mind: the natural order in Supernatural is…. Supernatural from s1 to s3.

I can explain.

First of all, the natural order is an “arrangement”:

EVE: You misunderstand me. I never wanted that. Not at first. I liked our arrangement. SAM: What arrangement? EVE: The natural order. My children turned a few of you, you hunted a few of them. I was happy.

Eve turns up in s6 after s4-5 madness and she’s unhappy: the arrangement has been broken. This leads me to think that the key-factor in keeping the natural order alive and well is honoring deals. When Crowley starts crossing boundaries in s6 Eve steps up to put him back in his place. However, she doesn’t realize who her real enemy is until it was too late for her. As always, the enemy of the natural order, the breaker of deals, the one you cannot expect to keep his word, the snake in the grass is our very Castiel.

Billie shares Eve's storyline. She’s also unhappy about the discombobulation of the natural order and she takes it on the Winchesters and then later on specifically on Dean. What's more, with Billie we see that uncontrolled resurrections without deals are a real problem for her. She fails to realize who her mortal enemy is twice: once when she’s a reaper and Castiel stabs her in the back and in so doing he’s breaking a stupid deal; the second time when they die together in s15. This time, though, they die because Cas is honoring a deal, but he’s doing it on his own terms, not waiting around wondering what true happiness is but taking matter into his own hands.  Although I have things to say about how happiness is framed in “Despair”, I’ve got to admit that, in its own convoluted way, it was a badass move.

Interestingly, when it comes to Chuck we don’t see the same respect and passion for the natural order that Eve and Billie seem to share. This is also where I think the writers sort of dropped the ball. In s11 it was established that Chuck had created nature and then nature “created on its own”. Here he seems to respect nature and calls it “divine”. In “The Trap”, however, he says the following things:

SAM: It'll be better. It'll be better. It'll be better. If we win – When we win – When we beat you, I will make it better! CHUCK: You can't, Sam. You, Sam Winchester, have been playing fast and loose with the laws of nature and magic for a very long time – you and your brother. Always breaking the rules. And that's what I love about you, Sam. It's so heroic. It's so...Promethean. But there's still so much about the fabric of the universe that you don't know... that you can't know. 'Cause you're only humans. But I'm God. Think about what I showed you. Look beyond the Mark, beyond you and Dean fanging out – heartbreaking, but not the headline news. SAM: The monsters. CHUCK: The monsters. CHUCK: Without me, it's a law of nature – dark forces prevail, monsters rule, and you, your brother, and everyone you love will die. Can you really live with that?

First of all I find it fascinating that Chuck, of all people, likes Sam and Dean precisely because they break the rules (but then he can't stand Castiel, looool, much to think about). He’s eventually angry at them because they don’t follow his script but he’s ultimately invested in these characters to such a degree that he calls them “Promethean”. Now, lol because didn’t Prometheus die, like, in s8 or something? But also: Prometheus is the hero who got impaled on the mountains of Caucasus because he defied Zeus (*cough* like *cough* Dean Winchester*cough*). So whether Chuck likes their "heroism" or not he only likes it up to a certain point (and this certain point is when their actions reveal his secret desires for self-destruction but that's for another day). For sure he wickedly enjoys when he vicariously breaks the rules and the natural order arrangement via Sam and Dean's actions. Not so much when it's Castiel who inserts himself into the fabrics of his story.

Secondly, “without me, it’s a law of nature”. What does that mean? I promised I wasn’t gonna go too philosophical so I went for the simpler route. If we leave aside the “dark forces” and “monsters rule” shit, what Chuck is saying is basically that without him the natural order will prevail. Which should be a good thing, right? Right?! Which also means that he himself is as much of a disruptor of the natural order as Castiel (oh-oh). Just like Billie, Chuck likes breaking the rules only when he or one of this favorite characters break them. Unlike Castiel and the Winchesters, however, he’s on a different plane of knowledge (therefore power) because there’s so much more about the fabrics of the universe that they can’t know but he can. After all, he is God and he (according to SPN) has created nature itself. So what’s Chuck’s signature on this "divine" masterpiece? What are the foundations of the natural order? I think the answer can be found in “Free to be You and Me”:

DEAN: The hell did you do? CASTIEL: I don't know. I just looked her in the eyes and told her it wasn't her fault that her father Gene ran off. It was because he hated his job at the post office. DEAN: Oh, no, man. CASTIEL: What? DEAN: This whole industry runs on absent fathers. It's, it's the natural order.

That’s it, that’s the natural order according to Supernatural: it’s about absent fathers. It’s on their absence that “this whole industry” runs. Which not so incidentally is also the premise of Supernatural and, like, the whole plot of the first two seasons (and beyond but I'm talking "Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home for a few days" type of absent father, that is John Winchester).

So if my understanding is correct, it’s accurate to say that Billie won in the finale because the natural order was re-established: nobody is resurrected, they all eventually die and Sam and Dean go on a hunt guided by their absent father’s journal, something we haven’t seen in ages, on a case that John himself had worked on something like maybe 20 years prior? Which is what they did in the first seasons of the show. They even meet a vampire from S1 who was there to signal precisely that: they're back in the past, only not in a positive way because it's a fictional past. A past with a mask.

Yes, the natural order is just the past through rose-colored glasses, a “let’s go back to the fun times of season 1-3 before all that angels-and-god-non-sense”. Which is technically possible but practically anachronistic. These two men are not in their 20s anymore, they're fully grown adults who've been through... let's just say a lot. It's a glorification of youth and a "forever young"ism that I find quite worrying. Moreover, with these premises Castiel couldn’t ever come back because, together with Chuck, he was one of the main disturbers of the natural order, aka the way Supernatural was before S4. Chuck's mistake was precisely inserting himself into the narrative because, in so doing, The Father is no longer absent while he must stay so according to the rule of the natural order. That's the arrangement. Chuck and Castiel's narrative fates are thus weirdly knotted together because the arrangement excludes deal-breakers/father-figures like them. Ironically, the ultimate absent father is not God but John Winchester, period. His absence is Order. It's the Law, aka what gives meaning to reality.

The implications of the finale are problematic because why on earth would you end your series like that? It's not even a positive "full-cycle" moment, it's just sad and uncanny in the freudian sense of the word. I know and understand that Dabb was working on his retelling so that we could all go back to the beginning but what is the point to go back without growth? Or to go back and then die? Or to go back and just leave? To me it doesn't make sense from a storytelling pov. I repeat, why would the people involved in this series decide to go down that road I cannot know. I suspect that they took the emotional, fake-happy ending road because Covid had destroyed the world as we know it so maybe they opted for an ending that would comfort people ("comfort" in the sense that's familiar to people, it follows an established path that's recognizable and doesn't destabilize them, which, for the record, I think they failed to do). Or maybe the intent was precisely the uncanny, that feeling of something disturbing and unsettling in what should be familiar and comfortable for us. As in: the story ends like it began, nothing has really changed and everything can only get resolved in the after-life. True happiness is not in the having, it's in just being (dead in Heaven with your brother). I don't know, two things can be true at the same tim, but I'm not gonna lie I smell traditionalism, conservatism and heroism as a cult of death that's very Ur-fascist.

Not that anybody has asked for this but, unlike Eve and Billie, I’m actually quite happy because I’ve managed to find an answer to one of my own questions.

[hello-eeveev]

I’m sorry I’m confused; every so often, for like the last year at least, I see it treated as fact that Laudna is hated by the gods for being a Hollow One or that somehow her existence is defying them? and I do not understand where this has come from.

First off, if we are looking strictly at the events of c3, Laudna was brought back to life by a cleric and champion of the Everlight. And she still remained very much a Hollow One. Why would the Everlight do that if the gods as a group did not want Laudna to exist as she was?

Now iirc, Laudna has expressed fear that the Matron of Ravens would not be happy about her existence, and that’s fair, given that this is one of her edicts:

Undeath is an atrocity. Death is too good a punishment for those who pervert the rightful transition of the soul.

However: yes, the Matron doesn’t seem to be fond of undeath, but her vitriol pretty clearly lies with those who create undead (e.g. Delilah), moreso than those who live in it. So I think the Raven Queen would not be angry with Laudna herself, more angry for the suffering put upon her by the state of undeath. I don’t think she would smite Laudna down for literally just waking up one (very very bad) day as a Hollow One. It’s not like Laudna was trying to become undead or to unnaturally extend her life or cast off fate; she was murdered. But still, it’s fair that Laudna worries about that! She’s a fictional character with a limited scope of view and emotions that may not be informed by fact! I don’t want her to know everything and to be perfectly reasonable at all times. If that were the case, she wouldn’t be a good character, and she wouldn’t be Laudna.

But even if the RQ did hate Laudna for being a Hollow One, she’s just one deity. She doesn’t speak for the rest of the gods, so why would they have an issue with Laudna when they don’t seem to have a particular problem with undead (see: the base cleric spell list having both Animate and Create Undead).

So I don’t see where this rhetoric of “the gods hate laudna” comes from? She has not been personally victimized by the gods. She has been on the opposite side of a conflict to one, but she was revived by another. As far as I can tell, in all the text and supplementary materials, there is only one major deity who might be prejudiced towards her.

so yeah, I’m just confused where this came from and i’d like to know. if it seemed like it was a headcanon or a thought people were toying with, I wouldn’t care, but I’m seeing it being treated as a given and I don’t think that’s the case.

[no1islost]

“When was the last time society felt united?”

Me: When people all over the world came together to cyber bully Laura Neal for ruining Killing Eve.

[oksanaastankova]

every now and then someone reblogs one of my villaneve gifsets and tags it like 'maybe i should finish this show' MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T MAYBE YOU SHOULD LEAVE IT WHERE YOU LEFT IT THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GREAT IDEA

[wearevillaneve]

The True Confessions of Eve and Villanelle (original post by Villxnelle/Twitter)

[lilyflowerhere]

✨️No one understands the bond between ne and my favorite middle aged actress ✨️

[women-4life]

Mary McDonnell Characters

LAURA ROSLIN, SHARON RAYDOR, MAY-ALICE, KATE ROBERTS, VIRGINIA DIXON, EVE SHERIDAN, MARYLIN WHITMORE, MADELINE USHER

[wososcripts]

I've Been Getting Lost In Translation (Part One)

Stina Blackstenius x Reader

Summary: You finally get to meet your girlfriend’s parents, but you aren’t sure they’re aware the two of you are more than just friends.

Word count: (nearly) 5.5k

A/N: Okay so we’re all gonna have to expand our minds and suspend disbelief for this one, especially if you speak Swedish (I do not lol). This idea was originally formulated in German, and then altered - so cut a bit of slack for the author <3 As usual nothing I write is meant to represent or speculate about players’ personal lives in any way, it’s just for a bit of fun.

For context, in Swedish the word for girlfriend is flickvän, or väninna but the latter is a bit outdated and used by older people (according to google, and my one Swedish friend) while friend is just vän. However väninna is also used to refer to a "female friend" not just a romantic partner.

Also, everything written like this in italics is spoken in a language other than English (just not written as such to avoid too many translations)

Warnings ⚠️: none, a bit suggestive in some parts.

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

“Söt, it’s time to wake up, we have to be at the airport by ten.” You were awoken by your girlfriend’s soft voice in your ear.

You groaned, wrapping your arms around her and burrowing closely into her chest, ignoring her protests.

“What time is it?” You complained, noticing it wasn’t even light outside.

“Nearly seven.”

You pulled her closer, making your displeasure known.

“Nearly seven? Stina, how long do you think it takes to get to the airport?”

You felt her plant a kiss on your head.

“With you? There’s no telling how long.” She indulged your drowsiness for a moment, rubbing your back softly and pressing her cheek to your hair.

Stina was always more of a morning person than you were, and she was certainly more used to getting up while it was pitch black than you ever wanted to be.

“Okay, I’m getting up now.” She announced, peeling your arms off of her and rolling away from you.

You opened your eyes to get a look at her barely illuminated silhouette, messy hair and strong shoulders stretching before she got up to face the day. Her night shirt hid the muscles that you knew rested beneath, as well as the nail marks you had left a few nights ago that she had scolded you over. Well, if she didn’t want them she shouldn’t fuck you so well, (apparently not a good enough excuse in her book).

You resigned yourself to the fact that there was no going back to sleep and sat up yourself. You checked your phone, making sure you had your boarding passes ready and that the flight was leaving with no delays. The two of you were lucky with the weather this year, and you hoped it would continue. Flying back in a snowstorm wasn’t something you wanted to deal with.

“Are you up?” You heard Stina call from the bathroom.

“Yes, Stina!” You replied, swinging your feet to the floor and grimacing at the cold wood beneath them.

Stina laughed at your unhappy face as you cringed at the light of the bathroom. She brought a hand up to pat your cheek affectionately. You gave her a sarcastic smile and began brushing your teeth.

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

It didn’t take all that long to get ready, double check your bags, and get dressed. Certainly not get-up-before-seven long.

You watched Stina braid her hair from where you were perched on the counter, admiring the concentrated look on her face. Tea was brewing in the kitchen and you had already cut up some fruit for breakfast.

“What are you staring at me for?” Stina teased, pulling a hair tie from her lips to finish her braid.

“I’m looking at you because you’re beautiful.”

Stina shot you a look, already catching on to what you were doing. But the blush still rose on her neck all the same.

“We don’t have time for that, älskling,” she said, though you knew she didn’t have much resolve where you were concerned.

You made a point to check your phone.

“Since you made sure we were up early, it’s only 7:30.” You shot her your best smile, tugging slightly on her shirt.

She moved towards you with little resistance, only an exasperated face for show. But she had no problem following you into a kiss, her hand resting on your jaw and your legs around her waist. Her warmth surrounded you, encasing you like a blanket. You almost forgot there was anything to do today at all other than kiss her.

You could tell Stina was getting turned on by how her hand slipped under your sweater and pushed your undershirt out of the way so she could press against your bare skin. Once she threaded her fingers into your hair and lifted your head so she could move to your neck you knew it was over.

“Are you sure we’ve got time?” You mumbled, putting a hand softly on her chest.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” she replied, lifting you up off the counter with ease.

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

“Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck…” you cursed, downing the last bit of your tea and pulling a brush through your tangled hair.

“Stina!” you called out into the other room where your girlfriend was getting (re)dressed. “Katie is waiting outside!”

You heard the distinct sound of your girlfriend swearing in Swedish and couldn’t help but let out a laugh in disbelief. You shot Katie a quick text that you’d be right out—thanking her again for coming to pick the two of you up. She was flying out later in the afternoon for Ireland, and had suggested carpooling to the airport. Any opportunity to skip the price of parking at Heathrow was a good enough reason for you.

Stina came into the kitchen with her bag in hand, looking frazzled.

“Remind me never to listen to you again.” She grumbled.

“You can’t help it,” you said smugly, handing her a mug of coffee and a wrapped bagel for the car. “Look, I even made you breakfast.”

Stina continued to mumble her complaints as she handed you your jacket and put her own on. You chuckled along, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Katie was on her phone mindlessly as you knocked on the window, making her jump in her seat.

“Fuck, was that necessary?”

You shot her a grin, reaching in the now rolled-down window to unlock the door.

“Good morning to you too, Katie.”

“Sure looks like you’ve had a good morning to me.” Katie laughed, noting the slight warmth to your face. “Stina’s never late.”

As if on cue, your girlfriend appeared outside. Katie greeted her kindly as she put the suitcase in the trunk and settled in the backseat. No mention of your morning shenanigans came out of Katie’s mouth sparing the embarrassment you both know would ensue.

Stina was private. Very private. Of course, once she let someone in, there were few things she found necessary to hide. But for most of the world she preferred to keep a low profile. That meant no social media posts, no PDA, and only a few people on the team were privy to the fact that you two were together. You didn’t really mind it, especially since it seemed like everyone Stina cared about knew. You didn’t think she was trying to hide you—or, at least, no more than she tried to hide the rest of her personal life from prying eyes.

The car ride was mostly quiet, Katie had her Spotify connected and the three of you chatted sparingly over it. She was going back to visit her family for the first time since her nephew had been born, something she was over the moon about. Though it wasn’t a particularly long break—just over two weeks—you were going to miss her and her infectious energy. Even Stina, reserved and introverted, was a bit more gregarious when Katie was around. Everyone joked easier with Katie in the room.

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

Stina hopped out of the car the second the three of you pulled into the lot at Heathrow. You were running a bit late, nothing worrisome, but you needed to get a move on to ensure that you would get on this plane.

“It’ll be fine,” Katie assured you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

She knew you were a bit nervous to be meeting Stina’s parents for the first time. You’d been doing a lot to try and prepare, studying Swedish to try and impress them (and tell if they were talking about you when they thought you weren’t listening), fussing over the gifts you brought, the clothes you picked out. You hadn’t told Stina because it was silly, you knew. Her parents were lovely, they had to be if they had raised someone like Stina. But still, you were a bit stressed about it.

“They’re gonna love you. There’s no way. You treat Stina like she fell from the sky, you’re smart, you’re kind, you have a wicked left foot, what else could they want?” Katie squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Just don’t mention you’ve never been to IKEA, that might get you kicked out.”

You gave her a small smile, a bit too nervous to joke back. And you hardly had time to, because by then Stina had gotten the bags and was waiting. You pushed open your door and took one of the bags from her, shooting her a smile. She seemed to know you and Katie had been talking about something sensitive because her eyes searched you with a bit of concern and she laced your fingers together.

Once Katie had paid for parking the three of you were off, ready to embark on your afternoon of traveling.

You weren’t a big fan of planes, but thankfully you managed to sleep almost the entire flight to Stockholm. It helped that you were able to lay your head in Stina’s lap, never more thankful for the size of business class seats and the salary that allowed you to afford it. She played with your hair gently, knowing it was a guaranteed way to relax you.

You came to as the flight attendant announced you’d soon be landing in Sweden.

“Sorry I left you alone for most of that,” you apologized, sitting back up in your seat.

Stina waved you off, giving your hand a squeeze. You suddenly felt quite nervous about this whole ordeal. You were really going to meet Stina’s parents in about an hour. This was a big step, you knew it. What if they didn’t like you? What if they thought you weren’t good for Stina? Was there something about you you could improve so they’d accept you more? What if you just didn’t fit in, plain and simple. You knew that it was mostly your anxiety talking, but it was difficult to quiet the questions in your head.

“Söt,” Stina nudged you, pulling you out of your reverie, “What are you thinking about?”

You shrugged, fiddling with the hem of your crewneck. Stina stilled your hands, her eyes boring into the side of your head until you met her gaze.

“I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all.”

“To meet my family?”

You nodded.

Stina smiled softly, rubbing the back of your hand.

“You don’t need to be. They know how happy you make me, and that’s what matters. You’ve made London feel like home. And besides,” she turned to whisper in your ear, “I like you enough for them all.” She pressed a quick kiss beneath your ear, pulling away before anyone’s eyes could linger on the two of you.

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

Getting off the plane and through security was fairly easy, and before you knew it you were waiting in the arrivals hall for Stina’s parents. Your heart was beating out of your chest, your palms sweatier than normal. Stina was beaming, her head swiveling as she looked around for her family.

Finally, she spotted them.

You hadn’t seen them outside of photos, but immediately you could see the resemblance between them and their daughter. They were tall, much taller than you, and dressed warmly in heavy coats and scarves.

“Mamma!” Stina called, waving her hand to call them over.

Their faces broke into wide smiles at the sight of their daughter, something that made you miss your own family a bit. Maybe next year you could convince Stina to come to Germany for the holidays.

“Stina!” The two of them wrapped her in a big hug, squeezing her tightly.

Once she was given the chance to breathe, Stina pulled back and ushered you forward, introducing you.

“We’ve heard lots about you,” her father said, shaking your hand firmly.

“All good things, I hope,” you joked lightly, still trying to get over your nerves.

“Of course.” Stina whispered as her mother shook your hand too, the both of them giving you polite smiles. Usually Stina would put a hand on your back to reassure you, but it stayed firmly by her side as you did your best to fight down your anxiety.

“Okay, let’s get out of here! Traffic is horrible!”

Conversation in the car quickly dissolved into Swedish, spoken faster than you had ever heard it before. Amanda and Lina certainly didn’t speak with each other this quickly—did they? You did your best to reply to the questions you caught directed at you, and keep up with the rest of the conversation. Words flung around your head as you tried to make sense of them in time for the next.

“Is it too much?” Stina asked quietly, leaning over to whisper it to you, “I told them you had been learning Swedish.” You shook your head, giving her a quick smile.

The house Stina’s parents lived in was about an hour and a half from the airport, outside of Stockholm. It looked like something out of a children’s christmas book: snow blanketing the roof, warm light streaming through the windows, a few strings of lights decorating the railing along the porch.

You were introduced to the rest of the family staying for Christmas: Stina’s half-sister, her brother and his wife, their little boy, Stina’s aunt, and her grandfather who mostly sat on the couch and watched ice hockey. It was a bit overwhelming, but in a pleasant way. Everyone seemed kind, and perfectly welcoming to you, which slowly made your nerves settle. By dinner you felt almost comfortable chatting with her brother about how Eintracht Frankfurt’s season was going (after finding out he was a fan) and listening to the tales of her father’s trips to Germany for work when he was younger. It wasn’t ideal that Stina was seated across from you, and the fact that you two had barely talked all evening, but you chalked it up to her enjoying getting to be with family. Hell, she saw you practically every day.

Once you were all finished with dinner and dessert (a wonderful small chocolate cake that melted when you cut into it) you helped to clear the dishes and wipe the table with Stina’s mother and aunt. Stina had been whisked away by her father so he could show her something new he’d built for the basement, and you were left with a mouthed “sorry” and a sympathetic glance.

You didn’t mind much though, the quiet monotonous task was actually quite soothing after the intensity of the day. You weren’t even really listening to the conversation between Stina’s mother and aunt in the other room where they were cleaning, too focused on your own thoughts until you heard your name.

"Jag är glad att Stina verkar ha hittat någon som är bra nog för henne"

"Ingen är bra nog för min tjej," Stina’s mother joked, "Men ja, hennes väninna är söt. Lite tyst kanske."

"Det är svårt att träffa föräldrarna, släpp henne lite"

You didn’t catch all of the conversation, or even much of it if you were honest. They continued chatting, your name and the word väninna popping up intermittently. You wracked your brain to try and remember what the word was, you’d definitely heard it before, but couldn’t for the life of you remember where.

So you pulled out your phone and sent a text to Amanda asking her what it meant. You probably should’ve been able to understand more, but a headache was beginning to brew behind your eyes and you were well and truly exhausted. It was fairly early, but you were hoping you would be able to excuse yourself from after dinner nightcaps. With a night’s sleep you would feel better.

Your phone dinged, a message from Amanda already lighting up your screen. You wiped your wet hands on a towel and quickly unlocked it, frustrated that you couldn’t remember yourself what it meant.

“Lol It’s like a female friend, not many people use it anymore” The message read. Amanda began typing again. “I hope you’re enjoying Sweden❄️ Merry Christmas!”

Your heart sank a bit. You were confused. Why would Stina’s family be referring to you as her “female friend”? Was this the fifties? You sent a thank you message back to Amanda and assured her that you were enjoying yourself.

You finished up the dishes, unable to stop thinking about the conversation you had overheard. Maybe you had misheard? But then again, the word had come up multiple times. Maybe Stina’s family misunderstood her and thought the two of you weren’t dating? Maybe she hadn’t told them?

The last thought surprised you. You couldn’t think of a good reason why Stina wouldn’t tell her parents the two of you were together, not after almost a year together. Why invite you to Sweden in the first place if not because she was ready for the next step? You thought things were pretty serious.

“Hi älskling,” Stina came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You leaned back into her embrace, having missed the contact. It helped soothe your racing thoughts a little, having her this close.

“Hey,” you replied, twisting to place a quick kiss on her jaw.

“If you keep doing the dishes I’m not sure my mom will let you leave.”

You chuckled, the sound catching in your throat unexpectedly, sending you into a coughing fit. Stina rubbed your back, grabbing a cup to fill with water from the tap.

“Are you feeling okay?” She asked, stroking your face softly, “You look a little run down.”

“I’m just tired…” you explained, “and I can feel a headache coming.”

It wasn’t a lie. Maybe not the whole truth, but part of it. Your confusion still weighed on your mind.

“It’s been a long day.” Stina agreed. “I think I’ll join you for an early night.”

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

You tried to hide your surprise as Stina’s parents opened the door to the room you’d be staying in.

Two twin beds.

“This used to be Stina and Linnea’s room when they were little.” Her father explained, showing you the pictures of the two of them as young girls that hung on the wall. You smiled at the image of a ten year old Stina in her handball kit. Next to it was a photo of her lounging at the beach, probably seven or eight.

“I thought we were getting Nils’ room?” you heard Stina whisper to her mom.

“And this is Stina’s first football trophy.” Her father continued, showing you the small gold statue that rested atop the dresser. “I said that day, I knew she would be on the Swedish team one day!”

“You did not, Papa. You wanted me to go out for basketball.”

“Well you were so tall—”

You tuned out the rest of their playful bickering, deciding to take a seat on one of the beds and take a look at the room around you. It was kind of sweet, being in Stina’s old room. It was like seeing a different side of her. Old posters still adorned the walls, messy handwriting still littered sticky notes on the desk.

“Well, we’ll see the two of you tomorrow. Sleep well.”

And with that the two of you were alone. You pulled your backpack over to the edge of the bed and found the ibu that you had brought with you, popping one in your mouth and swallowing it dry. You felt the bed beside you sink and a hand run gently through your hair, soothing the pulsing of your temples.

“Come here,” Stina motioned, pulling you into her so you could rest in her lap. “Is it bad?”

You shook your head.

“It’ll be fine in a moment, it’s just been a long day.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, her stroking your hair, you listening to the sound of her heartbeat mixed with the noises of her family celebrating outside. The thoughts in your head trickled through every now and then, but Stina did a good job of beating them back just by being there. She loved you, she loved you, she loved you. You clung to those words.

Eventually you both had to get up and get ready for bed. There was an adjoining bathroom that the two of you had to yourself, thankfully, which made everything much easier. You didn’t have to leave the little bubble you’d created for the two of you.

Then there was the problem of the beds. There was no way in hell you were going to sleep on the other side of the room from your girlfriend as a grown woman. Stina suggested pushing them together, which you did with a bit of struggle. It worked well enough, as long as nobody rolled into the middle. Essentially it was still sleeping in two beds, but it was the best you could do.

“Good night,” you mumbled, trying to get comfortable in the small bed. You reached a hand out for Stina’s, managing to find her fingers so you could lace them together.

“Good night, jag älskar dig.”

“Love you too, Stina.”

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

The next morning you awoke to the smell of coffee and the sound of the news playing in the other room. Your headache was gone—a small miracle—and your girlfriend’s back was visible next to you along with a mess of her blonde hair on the pillow. You rolled over to see what time it was, seeing that it was barely eight o’clock.

You quietly got out of bed, hoping to let Stina sleep a little longer. You usually didn’t get more than nine or ten hours maximum, but you knew Stina could sleep from 8pm to 9am easily if nobody was there to interrupt her.

You brushed your teeth and used the bathroom, enjoying a bit of peace with your thoughts before you faced the day. Katie had sent you a message, a photo of her with her nephew on her lap. She looked ridiculously happy, the smile on her face threatening to eclipse the rest of it. “You’ve gone soft, McCabe,” you wrote to her, smiling down at your phone as well.

Stina was still sleeping when you snuck out of the room, having changed into more appropriate clothes to face her family in.

“God morgon,” Stina’s mother greeted you as you walked out into the kitchen.

You wished her the same, settling down in one of the chairs at the island.

“Would you like some coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee, please.”

A mug of black coffee and a carton of milk were placed before you, along with the promise of oatmeal in fifteen minutes or so.

“Is Stina still asleep?”

You nodded.

“She’ll probably be up soon, it’s 8:30 already.”

“Here she is,” Stina spoke, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as she walked into the kitchen.

She kissed her mother on the head and settled into the chair next to you, shooting you a smile as she poured her own coffee. You internally frowned: usually, Stina always gave you a kiss to greet you in the mornings, whether it was at your place or hers. You tried to tell yourself you were overthinking things, but already you could feel the weight in your stomach returning.

“Did you sleep well?” Stina’s mother asked.

You nodded politely, deciding not to comment on the fact that your room had two twin beds. Do you know I’m dating your daughter? As in, we’re romantically involved? As in, we sleep together like grown adults? You imagined yourself saying, but you kept your lips closed.

Slowly the rest of the Blackstenius family trickled in, minus Stina’s brother who was staying with his family at home in Stockholm and would be joining them later in the day. You all gathered around the dining table where a large pot of oatmeal sat, fresh fruit, cinnamon, and sugar adorning the space around it. You sat next to Stina at the end of the table, accepting her offer to serve your breakfast for you.

“This is delicious,” you complimented.

The table was soon full of light chatter in a mixture of Swedish and English. You made light conversation with her sister about her studies, and her decision between going straight to pro or attending school first. You’d done the latter, wanting something to fall back on in case you were injured. But getting your degree while playing had been a difficult task, you warned.

You placed your hand lightly on top of Stina’s where it rested on the table, hoping just to get a bit of reassurance for yourself. But perhaps it was the wrong move, because Stina quickly pulled her hand away, offering her father the bowl of cut apples in front of her for his porridge.

You pulled your hand back into your lap, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. Was Stina so worried about what her parents might think that she couldn’t even touch you for more than a few seconds at a time in front of them. You did your best to continue your conversation with Linnea, ignoring the lump in your throat that was forming. Each time you tried to tell yourself you were overreacting, the voice in your head got less and less convincing.

You didn’t meet Stina’s eyes for the rest of the meal, nor did you try to talk to her. There was a bit of you that was angry and indignant. Why would she treat you like this? You knew you didn’t have the full story, and you wouldn’t until you asked her, but it didn’t feel good on the surface. You just counted the minutes until breakfast would be over and perhaps you could have a second to yourself to calm down. Otherwise you weren’t sure how you would cope.

Your chance came not that long after, as Stina offered to help clean up after breakfast with her mother while you got ready. The eight of you were supposed to go ice skating before it got dark, which meant you should leave by 10:30 for the rink.

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

You locked the bathroom door behind you and took a deep breath in through your nose and out of your mouth. You knew you were already on the verge of tears. Your head was getting the better of you, and there was only one person (other than Stina) you wanted to talk to right now.

“Hallo?” Laura’s voice came through the phone.

“Hey, Laura.”

“Was ist los?” She replied, immediately sensing your tone over the phone.

You and Laura had known each other for years, having played for the same club and German national teams since you were barely out of high school. There wasn’t much you could hide from her, especially not when she could hear your voice.

“Ich bin in Schweden, zu Stina’s.” You continued in German, not wanting anyone to be able to listen in on you. Even Stina would have a hard time understanding once you spoke quickly.

“Is everything okay? Did something bad happen?” Laura asked you. “Can we switch to video? So I can see your face.”

You switched on your camera, allowing Laura to see your teary-eyed face. You were sure you looked pathetic, especially over such a small thing.

“What happened? Did Stina do something?”

“No, of course not.” You defended your girlfriend, even though you weren’t completely sure it was true. Had she really not told her parents the two of you were together? Was she hiding it, trying to slowly introduce you as a friend first until they got used to you? You just couldn’t make sense of it.

“Then what’s wrong? And don’t try to say it’s nothing, or it’s little, because if it’s making you cry clearly it’s worth talking about.”

Laura always seemed to know the right thing to say. She was fiercely protective over you, no matter the situation. She reminded you of Katie in that way.

“You know Stina is private… and that we haven’t told many people we’re together on the team.” You heard Laura’s grunt of approval, “Well I got here, and it just seems like she hasn’t told her parents we’re together. I would’ve thought since we’re in her parents home she would be a bit more affectionate, like she is at our apartment or when we’re around Katie or Amanda, but we’ve hardly touched the entire day.” You took a pause. “I know it probably sounds silly—”

“Nope, hush with that. It doesn’t, keep going.”

“Well, you know I’ve been learning Swedish for a few months with Amanda’s help and obviously I’m not great yet, but I’ve been practicing so I could try and understand more while I was here… I’m not positive but I think when they talk about me they call me Stina’s friend. I don’t know if I’m being paranoid, I probably am, but combined with how Stina’s acting…I just don’t know what to think.”

By this point your breathing was uneven, the emotion you’d been trying to clamp down spilling over. Tears leaked out of your eyes and you swiped at them roughly. Your breath came in shallow bursts, unable to fully fill up your lungs. You just didn’t want to fuck this up. And now you were left questioning where you even stood with Stina—you were okay with some privacy, but not with this. Your parents knew about her, she had met most of your friends, even those in Germany over FaceTime since you couldn’t physically be together. Did you occupy the same place in her life that she did in yours?

“I need you to take a deep breath for me.” Laura said, her voice calm. You tried to follow her directions. “You need to ask her, be up front about it. Otherwise you’re going to drive yourself crazy the whole time you’re there, trying to analyze everything. Just ask. And if she hasn’t told them… then figure out why. Maybe there’s more to it than you think.”

You nodded, still trying to breathe. You got in the bathtub, as you often did when this happened as a teenager, and kept Laura on the line.

“Can you just talk about something for a little while? Anything really. I’m sorry to interrupt your break but—”

“Don’t worry about that. Of course I will.”

So you laid there in the tub as Laura went on about the new coaching staff at Frankfurt, about the train problems that had made her three hours late to her parents’ house yesterday, about her photo book that had just come out and how it was doing. Not long after you felt yourself drifting off, heart beating normally and your tears mostly dry. Laura didn’t let you off the line until you had promised that you would keep her updated, and let her know if she needed to come and rescue you and “take you back home with her”.

The universe’s timing seemed to be on your side, because only a few minutes after you had reapplied a bit of foundation around your eyes and washed your face, Stina knocked at the door.

“We’re going to head out in fifteen minutes, could I get in there?”

You opened the door and gave your girlfriend a smile, beckoning her in as you stepped out. You didn’t quite trust your voice yet, so you stayed silent.

“Is everything okay?” Stina asked, cocking her head sweetly.

You knew if you said anything you’d start crying all over again—and you hated yourself for it. So you just nodded, smiling again before slipping back out into the bedroom. There you threw on a nicer outfit and steeled yourself for the next few hours to come. Everything would be fine, no matter what. You had dealt with worse—more heartbreaking things, more disappointing things, you’d had your heart broken before and you had survived. You’d endured pain worse than anything that could happen in the next few hours.

[pinkpolastri]

eve comes home from the dixie queen

(killing eve ended like this i don’t make the rules)