#laura’s writing

[gleeksfreaksandwannabes]

Did someone call for Dean being the softest dad ever?

We left off last chapter with Jack being all upset, so of course I had to bring in soft daddy Dean to make it all better, because… reasons!

Here’s the next chapter of The Simple Life guys, thank you so much for all of your love on this story, it’s really keeping me going!

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Pack dynamics for domestic urban fantasy werewolves:

● They're never exclusively werewolves. Werewolves have a habit of aggressively adopting everyone they are fond of and when you've won the trust and affection of one, the rest come along in a package deal.

● They're territorial in the protective sense. No trouble in our neighborhood. No hunger in our houses. No fear on our streets.

● They hold grudges. Shopkeeper overcharged one of the pack members in their store? None of them will shop there again. Restaurant owner yelled at one the cubs who got a job there washing up? They've just lost all their hungriest diners.

● Young werewolves think the word "pack" is way too old fashioned and prefer words like crowd, crew, fam, and swarm. ("Honestly, honey, swarm? What are we, pigeons?")

● They're nosy. The upside is no one with a werewolf pack to back them up will ever be left to fend for themselves. The downside is that everyone is always sticking their hairy noses in.

● They vary greatly in size. In some places, especially more rural ones, it's not uncommon to find entire villages that are basically one pack. In other places they might only have a dozen members, scattered about. And many packs start with a set of two or three going somewhere new to build a life and a community.

[leafspiritz]

temults ⚡️

[criticalbeauregard]

a story told as 3 pictures

[chappellroansdreamgirl]

officer!els<3

author's note - meow i love this woman.

content warnings - black!coded!reader ig????, fluff, els i love u ellie williams pls handcuff me to ur bed and police-brutalize me! , text msgs from reader that are very me-coded! , mostly just based off every grumpy but cool cop i've seen in media, lots of notes from me i'm going insane I NEED HER!!!!! , there's a white man in a pic i put... you have been warned, smut/suggestive shit at the end!

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- def wanted to be a cop when she was a kid and then was a total fucking juvenile as a teen. (duh!)

- always loved the police officers who barely ever gave troubled kids a hard time. (this is coming from a troubled kid. acab all the way except for u guys. well, still acab, but y'all r cool!) would refuse to talk to anyone except her favorites. i fully believe that's one of the reasons she would go into this workforce.

- when she got approved to start training to be a cop, u were home with her favorite strand of weed and she gave u a look like, "🤨🤨" , "can't be doing that no more baby, i'm gonna be a cop." , "...stfu and take the first hit before you piss me off..." , she's wearing a SHIT-eating grin before she takes it. (don't ask me how she passes her drug-tests!) (probably gets jesse to do it or someone idk maybe joel if she's lucky!) (def not joel...)

- ADDING ONTO THIS!^^ : every single time you smoke when she can't she'll look so sad or just side-eye tf out of you... "really?" , "what do you want me to do ellie..." u stopped smoking around her when she couldn't...

- this woman is so intimidating but once those cop dogs come on the scene she's so cute<3 . she's so smiley and happy they love her AND SHE LOVES THEM. she definitely sent u a picture of her with the group of the babies and was like, "can we adopt them all pls i love them ):" . you guys adopted a rescue pup shortly after...

- whenever you're doing ANYTHING EVER she flashes her badge at you and says something so loser of her , "don't make me handcuff you..." or makes finger guns with the sounds and GOD I LOVE THIS WOMAN.

- speaking of badges, she always has her badge on her. ALWAYS. it is EMBARRASSING!

- when she got her first arrest she was so happy:3 . i FEEL like she took a picture with the fucker and everything and she looked so proud of herself. "good job baby now pls get to the station before that mf breaks out of those handcuffs he looks like he's gonna murder u..."

- this is a headcannon of mine (and canon so why am i saying hc maybe it's just bcs it's more in-depth in my head.) but she loves kids and whenever she sees a younger person at the station, she makes sure that they're ok and have everything they need.

- with that being said, she HATES the teens who don't have a valid reason to be such delinquents. lovable delinquents are her soft-spot but those... THOSE ONES😧.

- definitely is a kitten-saver-cop. hates getting the call but she responds every time.

- sends u this pic anytime u say something mildly threatening to her in text msgs:

suggestive/NSFW!

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- the day she got her uniform, you wanted to jump her bones. she came back home, poor girl was so tired and all you could think about is how good she looked in that shit.

- like i said... the badge is with her at all times... maybe this is too feral but i feel like she put IT in ur mouth and took a polaroid of it after u were done eating her out or SSAAAWWWWMMMMTHHHIIIIING. (pls let me wear ur badge baby i'm on my knees BEGGING YOU!)

- definitely joked about role-playing jailer/jailed and then it wasn't a joke anymore. y'all tried it once and couldn't stop laughing.

- has definitely used her handcuffs on u or vice versa. she gets so excited when u pull that shit out.

- ggggg...g-g-gu-....gggggggggguuuunnn ki-

- definitely has fucked u in the uniform. u two probs have had a quickie in the station bathroom on multiple occasions.

bonus round - police!els edit<3 :

[teencopandthesourwolf]

He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 

He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 

Was it Laura?

Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.

She didn't tell him she was going before she left New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone. She'd known without doubt that Derek would only follow her if she had said a single word to him.

Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. The desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.

Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.

Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't mark graves, or grieve properly. 

That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.

Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.

The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.

The thought still haunts him. One of so fucking many. 

Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.

In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.

Alpha.

Big sister.

But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.

He never told her about Kate.

And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 

Now, he remembers that last time. 

“I'm going out.” 

Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 

It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 

“What's this for?”

“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”

Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…

He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 

“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's fucking bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”

Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 

“Then where do you go to all these nights, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're so rarely in your own bed in the mornings.” She hadn't meant it as a dig. She was his sister and she loved him.

Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.

Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperately trying to find scumbags he could taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.

Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.

“Just—out.”

Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 

That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.

It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 

Now here he is, standing in his big stupid loft that he bought for his betas—yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping themselves as far around his shoulders as they can reach. 

Stiles.

“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.

He knows all about those.

“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 

But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 

Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”

And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.

More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.

Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.

He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 

Stiles's dude.

It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 

“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."

Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 

.

for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)

[colealexart]

story time! i met the cr cast this past weekend at mcm london and they were the kindest people imaginable, but my interaction with laura and marisha was just. incomprehensibly sweet and the best thing to ever happen to me.

first up was laura. my friends izzy (@wvearp) and abby (@overnighttosunflowers) went before me in the queue and they got my art signed by her. when they did, she said “oh, best art” and they told her that they were here with the artist. she immediately was like “what?! where?!” and started looking around frantically. i was standing just to the side and i waved awkwardly and she was like “NO WAY! YOU!! i favourite this shit on twitter ALL THE TIME!” which i find hilarious because yeah, i freak out a little every time she does.

when it got to my turn, i said hello and asked her how she was doing. she did not answer my question and instead said “cole, are you kidding me? these are gorgeous” about the two prints i handed to her. (the one pictured and a different one i got signed.) she said she remembers seeing this after the episode aired and i was like “yeah, it airs at 3am here so i drew this in a frantic, sleep deprived stupor at 7am” and she said “you did it so fast, i remember! i sent it to marisha! people are SO QUICK with the fanart, you guys are insane.”

after she signed the print, she held onto it for a moment and just sat and admired it, before looking at me with the BIGGEST smile and saying “you are seriously the best. thank you.” and i don’t know how to handle sincerity so i handed her the dice i got for her. she was so excited about them and immediately rolled the d20 and got a 10 (edit: i misremembered, she got a 3 lol). i then asked if we could play rollies and she beat me. i got a 5 and laura got a 7. i said i’m sorry they’re not rolling well and she was like “it’s fine, they just need charging up!”

i also got a selfie too, but the guy helping her at the table took the photo for us instead of me trying to take it because i suck at taking selfies. she gave me a really tight side hug and when it was done, she thanked me again with the biggest smile.

i also didnt realize until afterwards but instead of writing a character quote, laura wrote “you are everything” on my autograph 😭

next was the group photo op. as we walked up i said hi again to laura and she immediately recognized me from before. she grabbed onto my shoulders and literally spun me around to marisha and was frantically saying “marisha marisha, this is the person that does the amazing imodna art!” but there was a lot going on and marisha was looking at me with the most bewildered expression, until she eventually understood what laura was saying but we had to rush to take the photo. laura held onto my arm and marisha leaned against me and i didn’t realize until afterwards but liam and tal also had their hands on my shoulders lol. it was A Lot. i told marisha i would probably be heading to her autograph queue next so i’d see her there and she was like “awesome, i cant wait!”

so after that, i met marisha. i was probably the most nervous to meet her because she’s just so cool and intimidating but in reality she is just so warm and has such a calming presence about her. she was like “cole, good to see you again!” and i handed her the same imodna print that i had laura sign. she said “ohh, aww this is amazing! this is what laura was talking about, i was so confused!”

then we talked a bit about the live show because her voice was hoarse and i asked her how she was feeling. she said it was just her voice that was gone, but we agreed that it was absolutely worth it because the live show was incredible. i also congratulated her on the how do you wanna do this, then gave her the dice i got for her and we played rollies too. we both got an 18 at first and when we rerolled, she beat me with another 18 to my 16. then she was like “oh these roll really well, i’m definitely gonna use these!”

we took our photo together and afterwards she said “thank you for your art and everything. seriously, you’re so talented” while rubbing my shoulder, and then i headed off to join ashley’s queue.

i’m probably gonna make a separate post about meeting ashley and sam. i just wanted to write this down mostly to immortalize on my blog. i expected them to be kind but i did NOT expect to feel so loved and appreciated. laura was about as excited as i was, and made me feel so special. (this is also a pretty small thing but i dont think i pass very well, so the fact that laura said ‘person’ and didn’t misgender me meant a hell of a lot too.)

i did bring extra prints to give to them as a gift but was overwhelmed and forgot lol

anyway, that’s it! for anyone wondering if the critical role cast are as kind in person as they seem online, they absolutely are and then some. i’ll never forget this past week.

[asoftepiloguemylove]

Laura Gilpin The Two-Headed Calf // Linda Pastan Why Are Your Poems so Dark? // Margaret Atwood Shapechangers In Winter // @/doeantlers (twitter) // Vladimir Nabokov Letters to Vera // Ada Limón Dead Stars // @xshayarsha

[deedala]

art for shameless big bang fic:

Last Night at the Verona Grand Hotel by @the-rat-wins

special thanks to @whaticameherefor for taking over the organizing!

[perfectquote]

Once upon a time i decided love was too much like drowning.

Laura Villareal, found in poems to carry in your pocket

[insertlovelyperson]

The Hacketteers have slideshow night

[laurasimonsdaughter]

I just noticed a recurring motif among these Sicilian fairy tales that is so incredibly well-suited for fanfic:

A princess sees a handsome young man (usually a prince in disguise) making eyes at her in the marketplace and begs her father the king to make him a royal servant, because he is so beautiful.

The king complies, because he's too fond of her to say no, and makes the hero a stable boy or gardener.

The princess now suddenly spends much more time out riding or requesting flowers, and then tells her father that the new servant is far too good for outside work and must become a servant in the castle.

The king complies, but soon enough the princess requests that the new manservant is made her personal page. By now the king is getting very nervous, but he still can't say no to his daughter.

The princess and the page manage to keep up the charade a little longer before the princess goes to the king and outright demands to let her marry her favourite.

The king gives the hero three "impossible tasks" that are meant to kill him, but naturally he accomplishes them all through trickery or supernatural intervention and the clandestine lovers get their way.

The pining, the flirting, the sneaking around, the devotion— do you see my vision?

[sapphicstacks]

Anyway so if you go back and watch Laudna’s breakdown of everything they went through in Issylra, Imogen touches her forehead several times…

Imogen realizes she can’t hear Laudna’s thoughts so she missed that she was in distress. The next time Imogen speaks up she apologizes for not being able to hear her thoughts. She makes it so abundantly clear that she hates everyone’s thoughts but Laudna’s.

You can not tell me those two are not soulmates.

[ghostradiodylan]

[yoonsdoll]

a love worth waiting for - chs

content : bsf!vernon x f!reader ; a lil angsty but fluff & happy ending ; 1.5k words warnings : vernon curses like 2ce lol - you are the most important person to vernon, but is it requited? an : i keep going on random writing hiatuses for no reason even tho i have so many ideas idek someone sos!!

vernon has loved you ever since he met you. as cheesy as it sounds, its something he cant deny whenever his friends ask him about, something he rants for hours about to his sister, something he finds himself thinking about more often than not. 

he remembers it like it was yesterday, even if its been years. it was an unusual meeting; seeing a pretty girl on a walk in the middle of summer would usually be normal, if only he didn't trip on a rock and land awkwardly conveniently on your path… and then make a comment on how his sister has the same shoes as you as if you’d care.

but you did. you made sure he was okay and laughed at his comment, then blabbered something about how your boyfriend has a similar hat to him. and, oh. he should've seen that coming.

of course he should have. such a put together, sweet girl would obviously have lines of guys lining up at her feet (or falling, in hansols case). but that didn’t matter - you only just met, you’d probably become friends if he asked for your number, that would be enough for him.

and for the first few months it was enough. you hit it off great, messaging each other often and even hanging out occasionally… well, when your jackass boyfriend let you. he hated your boyfriend - no, despised him. it wasn't even a case of jealousy; more of a genuine worry, at least for a while. he made it vocal on how he doesn’t like how your boyfriend controlled your life, but obviously supported your choices anyway. who wouldn't? you became his best friend, he would do anything to see you happy.

behind the worry he presented, vernon was stuck.

“i don't get it, why would she be with him if he's so.. controlling and mean?” everyday he called his friends.

“she literally looks unhappy, i feel bad and.. i dunno, angry... is that stupid?” everyday he talked about it, about how he wants to help you and, well, about you. “shes so… nice and pretty and forgiving. dude, he really doesn’t deserve her.”

until one day, “i could treat her better.”

he accepted it. he knew it wasn’t fair, for him or for you. everything leading up to that moment that he did, he thought it was simply sympathy. he put on this friendly act to not hurt your feelings, but maybe it was to not hurt his own. you wore your heart on your sleeve. it was obvious you were in love with your boyfriend, not him. and no matter what he did, that wouldn’t change.

soon you noticed the same things that vernon begged you to see in your boyfriend for a very long time. the gaslighting, restrictiveness, the bored attitude, and when you drifted apart it was only a waiting game till you broke it off.

vernon was surprised that the way his eyes sparkled when you came to cry to him didn’t give him away. truthfully, he couldn’t care less about the way it all went down or what he told you while you broke up with him. what mattered was that you were out of the situation you were blinded in. 

“he was a fucking dick,” no brainer, “its unfair - y'know, someone you love being out of reach.” those words sounded awfully familiar.

actually, maybe to him what mattered more is that he finally could reach you.

“i still love him,” you mumbled between your tears as vernon cooed at you.

he should've seen that coming too, and he couldn’t blame you at all - ever. but why did it sting so much more than the first time?

when he searched for your laugh after making a joke, you were laughing out of pity. when he comforted you, you weren’t thinking about him and how he was always there for you, instead you were thinking about yourself. when home to him was wherever you were, home to you was wherever your ex boyfriend was.

you just lost someone so dear to you and he was being so selfish. 

you two breaking up should've been the greatest thing he has heard in months, but instead he suddenly couldn’t help but feel like there was a bigger wall between you both than ever. 

of course, you never had feelings for him in the first place. vernon knew that. but something in him always held onto the possibility of you ending up together. not anymore, not after those four words left your mouth. he felt stupid for ever even having hope.

he paused to think before he spoke - something he rarely ever did when he was with you. “i know you do.” shaking his head gently, he added, “your heart just got broken, its a fresh wound, of course you still love him.” did everything he say have to apply to him too? it was almost humiliating in a way.

“its embarrassing… im the one who broke it off, i shouldn’t like him.” right, you felt it too.

at the end of the day, no matter who he was to you, you recognised him as someone you could trust. you spoke your thoughts freely, you were always by his side, you were his best friend; thats something vernon failed to see. he understood now to expect nothing but appreciate everything. because after all, being your friend would always be enough for him.

vernon promised himself he wouldn’t do or say anything stupid for your sake. he knew breakups are tough, and he knew that feelings don’t change in a day. he loved you, so he never would blame you for anything negative you made him feel. he wouldn’t blame you because you didn’t know.

or so he thought.

because months later when you arrived at his door looking more nervous than usual with a small smile on your face, vernon couldn’t be more confused.

“its almost 11pm.. what’re you doing here…?”

you let yourself in, setting your shoes aside and placing your coat on the hanger before grabbing his hand and dragging him to the couch to sit down.

“is it true?” 

“...is what true?”

“is it true that you have feelings for me?”

was that a trick question? “i mean..” he cleared his throat with a harsh cough, leaving the room silent for a few moments that felt like hours. “is that really what you’re doing at my house at 11 in the evening?”

“stop it. stop avoiding the question. just answer me.” 

“where’d you even get that idea from? dude i mean, you’re my best friend so if you’re asking -”

“you know what im asking..” your hands felt clammy, suddenly regretting knocking on the door after debating if you should for a solid 5 minutes. “i’m.. not mad or anything.” you added.

this was the million dollar question. he felt scared. “ha..” he couldn’t help but scoff to himself, “yeah.” though his tone tried being confident, the lack of eye contact and leg jittering was enough to see how nervous he truly was.

“im… so sorry,” you stared at him with your nose slightly scrunched - a detail he noticed whenever you were upset. “what? sorry? pfft.. theres nothing to be sorry for.” you figured he’d say that.

“im sorry for not noticing it earlier. i feel like an idiot.”

“no.. i feel like the idiot.” he quickly butted in, trying to take the blame, “you shouldn’t have to ‘notice’ anything. i should have told you ages ago so we could get past… whatever this is. i was just being a pussy and i -”

you admired his dedication to try explain but decided to stop him. “no vernon, im sorry for making you wait.” 

making him wait? “what are you even talking about? you didn’t do anything i swear…”

“maybe you really are the idiot..” you suddenly smiled a little wider, catching him off guard, “i meant i'm sorry for not noticing my feelings.. for you.. earlier.”

if he was confused before, he was now completely dumbfounded. the frown on his face wiped into a completely new expression. one of certain shock and hope, but with an equal amount of doubt. 

“agh..” you groaned in fake annoyance, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, “i’m telling you that i like you too.”

oh. for once, he didn’t see that coming.

“are you serious?” he mumbled out, struggling to process the consumed information, a million things going through his mind.

“no im lying.” you tilted your head, “obviously im serious, why else would i be here?”

“you’re right.. i don’t know why i said that.” he nodded, a smile forming on his own face, “im just… at a loss of words dude.”

he let go of a breath he didn’t notice he was holding, sighing from relief as he looked at you. no more words were exchanged before he moved closer to hug you. a hug of love, ease and joy.

“if so.. can i be your boyfriend?” he whispered in a happier tone than before, the previous fear moulded into delight.

“yeah. i’d like that a lot.”

[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

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

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. 

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

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. 

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

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.

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

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?”