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#writing flow
shinekocreator · 5 months
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The unthinkable happened: I'm having a creative flow. No writing block.
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pointman74250 · 2 years
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Why Write When You’re Afraid.
Every time I get ready to write, every time I sit myself across from my keyboard I am absolutely scared shitless.
There is not a monster, in fiction or myth or real life that frightens me more than my own words. The reason is simple:
I don't want to look foolish. To myself or anyone else.
I am very self-conscious. Not so much about the way I look but about my own intellect and art. I've worked for years, decades to get better at putting ink to paper and every time it's the same old nagging demand:
Don't screw up!
But here's the thing, after about twenty, maybe thirty minutes of writing horseshit, the flow kicks in.
I'm putting stuff down that is alright. Not great but just alright. And then, like the rays of the sun shining down upon me, all that fear is gone, it's replaced with joyfulness.
For me, it's not even about the end result anymore at the moment.  For me it's just about the doing. That place where I am is heaven and it's greater than all the fear I had before, which was quite a bit.
That's why I do it. Not for the fear or to be read or judged. That comes later. I'll always be afraid of that.
I do it because of that feeling of intense pleasure. It's what I've been chasing my whole life.
It's why I write to begin with.
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enchantingepics · 2 months
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Story Prompt 22
In the dimly lit city of Veridion, where neon signs flicker and cast a surreal glow on the rain-soaked streets, a mysterious figure wandered through the alleyways. The air was thick with the scent of distant memories and secrets. This character, wrapped in a cloak of shadows, felt an unusual hollowness in their throat—an emptiness that transcended mere physical hunger.
The figure moved with purpose, guided by an invisible force, weaving through the bustling crowds oblivious to their silent presence. The emptiness in their throat wasn't a result of a lack of food or water, but a deeper yearning, a hunger for something intangible.
As they continued their journey, the neon lights seemed to pulsate in sync with the rhythm of their solitude. The story of Veridion unfolded in glimpses—of forgotten dreams, unfulfilled aspirations, and the echoes of laughter that once resonated through its forgotten corners.
In the heart of the city, the figure found an abandoned bookstore, its weathered sign barely visible through the mist. They entered the dimly lit space, the musty scent of old books enveloping them like a familiar embrace. The shelves were filled with volumes chronicling the tales of Veridion, each page holding the weight of countless untold stories.
The figure reached for a dusty tome, its pages whispering forgotten narratives. As they delved into the words, the hollowness in their throat began to shift. It was as if the stories breathed life into their very being, filling the void with the essence of other lives, other worlds.
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keyboard-squared · 6 months
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Unconventional Approaches to Overcoming Writer's Block (That Actually Work!)
Struggling with writer's block? Want to have a game plan ready for the next time the words just won't come? These unconventional methods have been proven to work time and time again!
We all face it at one point or another.  If you’re a seasoned writer, chances are you’ve come face-to-face with writer’s block many times already. If you’re new to the writing game, you might be dreading this monster you’ve heard so much about. Writer’s block is the most common obstacle writers face, after all. Not only does it bring frustration for you, the writer, but it can have even bigger…
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somnimagus · 6 months
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My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.
[id in alt text]
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andejoe · 5 months
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No one wanted to ask. Someone had to. It was terrifying. But it made sense.
Of course humanity finally abandoned its planet. Everyone was surprised they hadn’t abandoned it sooner. Still, the concern was there.
What made humanity abandon their planet in a mass event? What thing was finally found to scare them off their favorite death world?
Of course not every last human abandoned the planet, but enough did that Earth was no longer considered ‘inhabited’. Humans flocked to other worlds, most choosing death worlds with similar biomes to the ones they preferred. (And there was a suspiciously armored ship heading towards Disney planet.)
The concerning thing was the humans kept going back. Never landing. Never breaking the atmosphere. Just driving by.
Finally, a delegate was chosen to ask the human council member. Poor Laeri was nervous, but they had been called friend by council member Daryl before. Surely this question wouldn’t be an offense.
“Daryl, may I speak with you a moment?”
Daryl paused, and nodded, careful not to smile. He was well practiced in the art of not offending. “Of course Laeri. What is the matter?”
“Humanity has recently applied for habitation permits for a dozen planets. As soon as the permits were awarded, humans left very quickly.”
“Well sure. The permits took three earth years to be approved. Most of the planet had been preparing for over five years at that point,” Daryl explained.
“Yes, that is not my question. The question is why?”
“Why were they ready?”
Laeri shook their head. “Why did they leave Earth? Humans have made it a point to ‘stick it out’ despite better options being available. Why leave now?”
“Oh, that. Well.” Daryl paused. He knew he didn’t have to report officially yet, but his friend wanted to know. “Will you keep it a secret from the council?”
Laeri paused. The answer being a secret did not occur to them. What could the humans possibly be hiding? Would they be able to hide it as well?
“I do not think I can keep any dangerous thing a secret,” Laeri finally admitted.
Daryl nodded. “Nor would I ask you to. It’s not dangerous, just a little experiment more like.”
“If it is an experiment, then you should speak with-“
“No Laeri.” Daryl interrupted calmly. “This isn’t something we want help with. That’s why we haven’t mentioned anything to the Viyon Academics. We just need time to see if it works.”
Their curiosity finally got the better of them.
“If what works?”
“A new society. A new civilized species.”
Laeri didn’t speak, but either from awe or concern, they weren’t sure. Daryl continued.
“We believe a species evolves when they start to take care of their injured and impaired. It means they have compassion. Well an intelligent species on earth has been observed showing compassion. We simply want to give them the space they require to evolve.”
Laeri considered the intelligent species that lived on earth. They were suddenly very concerned. Had the humans been duped?
“The dolphi are showing compassion?” Laeri asked.
Daryl almost laughed. “Not even close. No, we wouldn’t break the agreement we made. They’re not escaping earth anytime soon.”
Laeri felt immediate relief. “Then which species is it?”
Daryl smiled. He couldn’t help it. He liked birds. “Corvids.”
“But, but they’re so small.”
“We know. That’s why some humans are still there, zoologist types to help them grow, learn, and show them the way.”
“What if another species wipes them out before they get the chance?”
Daryl shrugged. “Well that’s why we left some warriors behind, to help keep the corvids alive while they grow. And of course to keep the dolphins contained. We do take that assignment very seriously.”
Laeri was excited now. Another avian species may be joining the galaxy soon. They wanted to tell everyone.
“Promise you’ll keep the secret?” Daryl asked.
Laeri felt their excitement dash upon the cruel rocks of reality. “I will.”
“Good. Here.” Daryl held out a small computer drive.
Laeri took the drive. “What is this?”
“The live feed of the experiment. You really think we wouldn’t watch? As soon as they reach civilized status, I have to report them. Until then, they’ve been completing some very complex puzzles and problem solving lately. You’ll want to start at the beginning but they post new information all the time.”
Laeri clutched the drive to their feathered tunic. Suddenly the small drive was priceless. “I, must go now.”
Laeri took off as fast as would be ignored by others. Daryl watched his friend, surprised by how excited they were. His watch gave him an alert.
“Ooh, a group puzzle. Wonder if they managed it this time.”
Daryl walked off to his own private quarters to watch the newest update on the corvids.
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onionninjasstuff · 4 months
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this is part one! | next
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ihatebiden · 1 year
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when i was younger and didnt have as many responsibilities as i do now i used to write at least 1000 words a day, no matter how bad my writing that day was just to stay in the flow. at a certain point each evening i would sit down and just . write. i do think its possible to write that amount without any special trance like states i ALSO believe that it’s only possible if you dont have work + university + a household to manage + a social life
yeah no thats true obviously what i meant (for me at least) was that if i wanted to i would definitely have enough time seeing as it doesnt take me that long to actually write fiction but yeah obviously the ability to write itself isnt the only factor to consider responsibilities play an important part too, if not a bigger one
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effervescentcvnt · 2 months
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imagine teasing your tentacled spellcaster monster partner all the time when you go on a date: you’re wearing skimpy clothes that show more skin than they cover, not to mention that you aren’t wearing any underwear. you’re constantly touching them just a little bit too close to their sensitive spots “on accident” and whispering naughty things in their ear in public. you want to make them go wild with lust until they snap and have their way with you.
“keep this up and you’ll be in a world of trouble when we get home,” they warn you, their voice low and raspy. 
you look into their eyes, feigning innocence. “what’s ‘this’? i’m not doing anything,” you reply, grinning inwardly because you know that they’re already getting riled up because of you. 
as the two of you are sitting at the restaurant, you let your foot brush up against theirs under the table and then drag it upwards towards their crotch. that almost makes them drop the glass of wine that they were holding and they shoot a heated glare at you as you smile back softly. because of their keen senses, they can smell your arousal as your slick drips onto your clothes. you continue tormenting them all throughout the night, pressing the sole of your shoe against their crotch and rubbing slowly, licking the dessert off of your spoon in a way that is certainly too lewd for a public setting and bending forward in your seat so that they can catch a glimpse of your chest as you’re talking.
when you finally go back home, your beloved monster is fuming, sexually frustrated and ready to ravish you. they’re so much bigger and stronger than you so it’s easy for them to pick you up and throw you on the bed. they’re on you in an instant, their tentacles firmly pinning you down against the mattress. 
“is this what you wanted? to tease me until i have to punish you?” they growl.
you shake your head in disagreement, all while knowing that both of you have agreed on a certain word that’ll stop everything if you truly don’t wish to continue. “it was just supposed to be a bit of fun! don’t punish me, i’m sorry!” you yelp.
“oh, you will be,” they snarl.
before you even know what’s happening, they cast a spell on you, a glowing brand in the shape of a heart appearing just above your pubic hair. the symbol warms your skin, the familiar heat of arousal settling between your legs.
“what the fuck did you do to me?!” you shriek.
“you’ll see,” they simply say, malice apparent in their voice. they bend down, smiling at you with their sharp teeth flashing in the dim light of your bedroom. they lick at your lips with their long, forked tongue, urging you to part them. the moment that you do, they plunge their tongue in, giving you a sloppy, wet kiss that makes you moan into their mouth.
your partner is blessed with both a pussy and a cock, and they intend to use you thoroughly to sate their every need. they press your head against the pillows and mount your face, and immediately you begin working them over, kissing and sucking their clit and occasionally teasing the opening of their pussy with your tongue as their heavy cock rests on your forehead, already leaking precum. their tentacles hold you down, immobilising you, rubbing every sensitive part of your body at once. they grind their hips and let out breathy, appreciative moans when you pleasure them with your mouth and soon enough, they whine in ecstasy and they squirt all over your face, drenching you in their juices.
they manhandle you into a mating press, first slipping their lubed fingers inside you, stretching your hole and preparing you for their cock. you’re already hoping for an orgasm as they split you open on their cock. after they’ve worked their cock into you fully, they ravage you fast and hard, panting in pleasure. all you can do is lay there wrapped up in tentacles, eagerly sucking on your  fingers when they explore your mouth. you can feel your orgasm approaching fast, and just when you are about to fall over the edge, you… can’t. the pleasure keeps cresting, yes, but you cannot finish. you whimper in confusion and wiggle your hips although you cannot move much. your partner notices your distress and chuckles at your predicament.
“the spell i have cast makes it impossible for you to cum,” they explain. “you’ll only be allowed release if or when i decide that you’ve been punished enough.”
you howl when you slowly comprehend their words. “please no, please let me cum! agh- i’m sorry for teasing you! i’m sorry, fuck, please stop, release me!!” you beg but your pleas fall on deaf ears.
your monster’s cock still pounding at the sweetest of your spots and you’re sure that if they were to pull out, your hole would gape. their tentacles stroke you in a loving way that creates a sharp contrast to the rough fucking yet the pleasure they bring is unbearable.
it’s absolute hell, to be kept there with no release in sight while your darling beast uses you for all you’re worth. you can feel your hole throbbing, and you’re leaking everywhere, making such a mess of yourself. the torture is seemingly endless, and your partner ends up pumping load after load into your fluttering, denied hole. they kiss you again, all tongue and teeth, their unnaturally long tongue thrusting in and out of your mouth. it feels as if your lower body is on fire, and the unending stimulation has you constantly feeling like you’re ready to explode yet you can’t. your tummy bulges with both their thick cock and the amount of cum that your beast has spilled inside.
they’re not completely heartless, though, and eventually they release you from their spell. 
they spoil you with countless orgasms until you’re drooling and your eyes lose focus, mercilessly ripping your pleasure from you.
when you’re done, they clean you up gently and offer you a snack and water, making sure you're okay. they wrap their arms and tentacles around you, holding you close to them as the both of you drift off to peaceful sleep.
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generic-whumperz · 7 months
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Haven’t shared a bad meme in a minute so here ya go 😘
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therainywriter · 5 months
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Missed You 18+ (Smut/Fluff)
Pairing: Mike Schmidt x F!Reader
Abby had you on the floor, coloring with her as she simultaneously watched an old cartoon. She kicked her feet back and forth, eyes slowly growing heavy as she fought back sleep.
You suppressed a smile, knowing she was waiting for Mike to come home, she always did. It was an endearing thing and showed just how much she loved him. Even if he sometimes thought otherwise.
You were growing drowsy yourself and stood with a yawn, “Let’s put you to bed kiddo,” you mumbled to her sweetly, having adopted the nickname from Mike.
She seemed to ponder over your words for a moment before she reluctantly gathering her things. You put her papers and crayons away as she snuggled into bed.
You tucked her in and turned off the lights, pausing when her voice called out to you, “Will you leave the door cracked.. please?”
You nodded, “Of course, sweet dreams Abby,” you said softly, heart melting when she whispered goodnight.
You did as she asked and left the door cracked before you made your way back into the living room. You cleaned up what little mess the two of you had made and curled up on the couch.
The house was quiet aside of mumbling voices on the TV, you were warm and cozy, cuddled so snugly in the corner that you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep.
You awoke just as Mike was closing the front door. He gave you a tired smile as he took off his boots and joined you on the couch.
He pulled you onto him, letting you stay tucked within your fluffy blankets. You hummed, laying your head on his chest, pressing a kiss there as he sighed.
“Rough night?” you asked with a gentle frown, looking up at his pretty brown eyes.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, voice weary. He pressed a kiss against your forehead, working his way down until he met your lips.
“Missed you,” he whispered, pulling you closer as his mouth moved slowly against yours.
You gripped onto his shirt, moaning softly in response. You missed him too, terribly so.
He’d been gone more often than not recently, you’d even debated driving down to that old pizzeria just to see him.
He grabbed your legs and positioned them around his waist before grabbing your hips to rock you against him.
His head fell back, lips parting from yours as he moved you how he pleased. You hid at his neck, one hand grasping arm as the other griped his shoulder.
You whined when he thrust his hips up against you, jeans hard against your soft pajamas. The friction had you squirming, a familiar throb forming between your legs.
“Wanna fuck you,” he groaned, reaching down to slide his hand in your cotton shorts. He swiped his middle finger along your wet folds, rubbing at your pussy a little before slipping his finger into his mouth.
“M’ gonna fuck you,” he said, voice strained in a hush, “right now.”
You whimpered at the promise, letting him lift you up and carry you to his bed. He carefully kicked the door shut behind him, the action silent and swift before he laid you onto his bed.
He stripped you of your shorts and panties, leaving you in only his large, plain shirt. You bit back a moan when his hand went back to your cunt, middle finger pushing into your slick heat.
Mike cursed to himself, dick straining in his pants as he fucked you with his finger, soon adding another, rubbing and pushing into you.
Your body was hot and aching, walls clenching around his digits. You were close, oh so close when he stopped entirely.
“Please,” you nearly cried, pleas silencing when his cock replaced his fingers. The stretch of it both painful and pleasurable.
He hadn’t even bothered taking his jeans off, wanting too badly to feel your warm, wet pussy around him.
He moaned into your shoulder, “So, so good baby.”
His thrusts were slow but rough, each pushing you further into the mattress as he intertwined his hands with yours.
It didn’t take long for him to speed up, fucking you just as he’d said he would. You were a flustered mess, holding back moans after each meaningful drive into your cunt.
You squeezed around him, eyes shutting as your hands tightened their grip on his. Your hips moved up into his, needy and wanting.
He leaned down, lips pressing against your ear as soft huffs escaped his mouth, “That’s it princess, want you to cream on my cock.”
His words sent you over the edge, pussy milking him as you came undone. He ground down onto your clit, thrusting into you until he pulled out and shot hot ropes of cum on your stomach.
He let his body engulf you as he rest on top of your smaller form, the weight was comforting.
“Wish I would’ve done that weeks ago,” he mumbled, kissing the soft flesh of your neck.
You yawned, fingers playing with his as a smile crept onto your lips, “Me too..”
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bluerosefox · 5 days
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Hmmm *has done a lot of deaged Danny prompts/ideas*
Let's shake things up a bit shall we???
Deaged Tim!
Tim, or rather Red Robin, was turned into a child Ra's (to steal and raise him as his evil heir)
And as he's about to be saved by the Bats. He hears what was sound of a ticking clock before he begins to fall.
And he tumbled and fell like Alice falling into Wonderland.
-x-x-
"CW what did you do?" A tired voice asked
"What I had to. Should I had left him there, they would had failed and he would had lead his world from the shadows under the false Immortal's teachings....A world does not need be in ruin to be on its path of horror and destruction, Daniel." Came the response.
"Ancients..." swore the other voice under their breath.
"Raise him well and in due time his once family will find him again. He will awaken confused and questioning, his past foggy to a point in his mind. Just make sure he is ready for it. The flow of time between worlds can be both kind and cruel." We're the words said.
"Clockwork wait! What does that-"
That was all Tim heard as he tried to wake up, but he quickly fell back asleep when a hand gently petted his head, snuggled and bundled up in a dark purple cloak and the sounds of ticking clocks all around him worked like a strange lullaby.
When he woke up next, Tim found himself in a small bedroom, a guest room that once been someone's actual bedroom judging from the glow in the dark stars still on the ceiling above. But it seemed to had been turned into a spare room for guests from how there wasn't anything else personal in the room besides basic stuff.
Tim, confused and wondering where he was and how he got there jumped when he heard the door open and meet the eyes of a young adult with black hair and blue eyes.
"Hello Tim, good to see you're awake. My name is Danny Fenton and... Welcome to my worlds version of Earth I guess."
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rochenn · 2 months
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Eye Level, pt. I
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Getting into the comic groove by making Dooku (loneliest most pathetic man in the galaxy) develop a Thing for his tailor. Part two in progress!
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franeridart · 2 months
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The Housecat Philosophy - Ep 49
Ep 00 || < Prev || Next >
Read ahead on Patreon || Catch up on Webtoon || support me on ko-fi~✨
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thesunisatangerine · 3 months
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playing for keeps – chapter two
alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader
warnings: coarse language, brief mentions of grief
(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three]
word count: 10.2k
[1]
A shiver ran down your spine in spite of the sun’s anger that bored down on you. 
You wiped your free hand on your jersey but sweat clung to your hand like glue, yet your fingers remained cold, even the ones on the hand your mother was holding. It didn’t help that your gut had coiled into a knot that you couldn’t loosen; you’d breathed deeply, you’d counted backwards from ten… and still, it remained there.
What was it about this that scared you so much? 
The fear sprung in you the moment you stepped foot out of your home, growing the more you got closer, and now that you and your mother were walking across the parking lot to the building, it threatened to claw its way up your throat. And that was something you really didn’t want to happen. 
You gripped your mother’s hand tighter. She gazed down at you with a soft look, giving your hand a slight, reassuring squeeze, and that was enough to ease that feeling a little bit. 
The door creaked long and loud when your mother pushed it open, reminding you of that old, unused shed by the garden at home that made the same sound when you entered it, and it reverberated against the walls. No one was inside except for an empty desk in front of a wall with chipped, white paint. Just beside that, there was a corridor lined with a few doors, some of which were opened. And at the end of it there was an opening that led to the sunlit grasses of the outside.
At the sound, the head of a woman popped out from one of the open doors. The woman came out, a water bottle in hand which she set on the desk, and she greeted you and your mother with a friendly smile. Even still, you took a step back and hid behind your mother.
“Hello! I’m sorry for making you wait! How can I help you?”
“No need to apologize, we just came in.” Your mother laughed as she waved a hand in the air. “My daughter is actually here for her first day of training with the club.”
“Oh, is she?” The woman gasped and clapped her hands together in delight. She beamed down at you and stooped low to offer her hand out, and then she cooed, “Hello, love, I’m Teresa.”
Heat rose to your cheeks as you took her hand and shook it, telling her your name in a whisper. Teresa smiled at you again before she straightened her back. 
“I’m so glad you got here just then. We don’t usually get people around this time so we tend to lock the front door, and I was about to head out back to bring the girls some water.” She explained to your mother and then she gazed back down at you again. “Are you excited to meet the girls?”
At your silence, your mother answered for you, “She is, it was all she could talk about. She’s just a bit shy.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that, love. The girls are just as lovely. Will you be joining us?”
“Are parents allowed to stay?” When Teresa nodded with a hum, your mother continued, “I see. Perhaps another time. I have somewhere to be.”
“We could schedule for another time.” Teresa nodded in understanding before she regarded you again, “Now, shall we meet everyone?”
Fear rose in you again and your eyes darted to your mother’s. There, you found an encouraging light that grounded you and without really intending to, you agreed with Teresa. Shortly after, your mother left but not before she told you, “Now, my little firecracker, you behave yourself. And remember, have fun and show them what you’re made of.” 
Something akin to fire lit up in your chest at your mother’s words, and its warmth spread all the way to your fingers and toes. It was a soothing calm similar to the one you’d get from a cup of warm milk and honey in winter. And when she pressed a goodbye kiss on your forehead, a sense of safety blanketed over you even long after she’d left. 
Teresa took your hand after she locked the front door, and occupied the other with holding the rack of water bottles, and she led you down the corridor. As you passed through, it became clear just how tiny the facility actually was but it held everything that you needed; Teresa had pointed and named the areas with a jut of her chin: the toilets were here, the nurse bay just beside it, and the lunch room was just across. 
“It isn’t much but it’s home for the club.” Teresa smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. And her eyes were clouded with an emotion that made you feel a sudden urge to hug her. The emotion passed quickly and in the next moment, you found yourself surrounded by heat as you stepped down a threshold that led you outside. 
Squinting and putting your free hand over your eyes, the sight of the field came into focus. It was surrounded by a metal, wire fence, and its entrance opened up at the end of this path you were on to the middle of the nearest sideline. Through the fence, girls of seemingly different ages ran about in one half of the field, shouting and laughing as they passed balls to each other. And you found your nerves returning but it was soon replaced by giddy anticipation. 
You and Teresa were close enough now that your presence drew the attention of the girls. Upon catching the sight of you, they stopped and stared. And even from a good distance away, the weight of their eyes pressed on you and heat rose to your cheeks again.
A shout and a clap made the girls whip their heads–as well as your own–towards the direction of the sound. It came from a woman who said something to the girls you were too far to hear, but by the end of it, the girls resumed their training as if they never stopped. 
From the lack of attention, you sighed out a breath. 
Then the woman began her way to the sideline just as you and Teresa arrived there. Teresa set the water bottle rack down by her feet while your eyes wandered over from the walking woman to the other girls. For the most part, they all looked the same age and height, but a few towered over the rest with their great build and height, and that did nothing to quell your brewing fear. There was only one girl that was smaller than everyone else, younger too, whose height looked to be similar to yours. 
The girl was last in the line she queued for and as she stood there waiting for the ball, she had her head turned over her shoulders to look at you. She had short hair held back by a headband, and her shirt ballooned at the waistband of her shorts, which fell all the way down to her knees. Instead of fear, an urge to greet her rose in you, but as you raised your hand to wave at her, she whipped her head back to the front just in time to receive the next ball that was passed to her. 
“Ah! Our new addition to the family is finally here!”
The exclamation had you turning yours to the front, and you found the woman there with both hands planted on her hips. She towered over you–like most adults did but she was taller than most–and the angle made the fine lines around the corners of her eyes and lips look deeper from the harsh sunlight. Her blue eyes were light, inviting and warm, and they held a calming force that reminded you of your mother’s. When she stuck out her hand, you noted the way her skin clung to the surface of her flesh, almost translucent in the sun, but you found yourself unafraid to shake it immediately.
“Welcome to Sabadell Girls’ Football. My name is Catalina but you may call me Madam Cata. Remind me again, how old are you, little one?”
“I just turned eight.” You said, and you nearly forgot to add, “Madam.”
Madam Cata’s smile brightened and, to your surprise, she let out a small laugh. At her amusement, you found yourself smiling, too.
“Very young, indeed. Well then, I’ll take you from Teresa to meet the rest of the girls.”
Your heart jumped at the thought and you turned to Teresa. She must've seen a hint of your apprehension because she gave you a soft, encouraging smile and said, “You’ll be just fine. You’ll see.”
Somehow, you believed her. So you nodded and thanked her, and with another smile and a wave of her hand, she left you with Madam Cata who began to lead you away with a gentle hand against your back.
After you’d crossed the small distance from the sideline to the middle of the field, Madam Cata called out to the girls. They gathered and now that they were closer, your shoulders curled inwards under the weight of their stares, and you kept your eyes down at the red laces of your boots, which your cheeks and ears probably resembled now as they heated from the attention. 
You felt the weight of Madam Cata’s hand on your shoulder. 
She was smiling at you and then she said softly, “Don’t be afraid, little one. These are your friends and sisters. Go on. Tell them your name.”
Finally, you looked at the girls. And as if drawn by a force, your attention immediately locked on that girl, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, a sense of calm washed over you. 
The girl stared at you like the others did, but it was different. It wasn’t a look you found to be negative, more curious and attentive. Her head was tilted slightly to the side as if the change in angle would help her figure you out. She wasn’t quite smiling or frowning; she impressed you with a leveled attitude, an expression you typically saw on people who were significantly older than you, and you were surprised to see such a face worn by someone as young as the both of you. 
Her eyes traced an invisible path along your face all the way down to your boots. She was sizing you up, you knew this. You’d played enough games at recess and after school to know how kids scrutinized each other for weaknesses, but you felt it wasn’t the same with this girl. Her gaze was more appraising than critical, as if she was imagining how you would affect the team. You could almost see her calculations playing like a movie above her head and you barely stopped yourself from giggling at the image. 
She must’ve seen your amusement because she straightened her head in attention, and her brows knitted to a slight frown. The change should’ve given you grief but it only made you all the more interested to get to know her for reasons you couldn’t quite understand. There was just something about this girl… something that you wanted to discover. And so, right there and then, you decided that you were going to befriend her. 
Feeling a bit better, you finally introduced yourself with a wave to the others before you locked your gaze on the girl again.
The girl’s frown deepened. 
Your smile widened. 
“Now, girls, introduce yourselves.” Said Madam Cata. 
And so they did. 
A couple of the older girls gave you a smirk that reminded you of the older cousins you’d see at family gatherings, or the boys at school who thought you were easy picking whenever you played with them. The rest looked friendly and introduced themselves with a pleasant smile and a wave.
It was the girl’s turn now.
“Hi. I’m Alexia and I play as a midfielder.”
Alexia. Somehow, the name suited her just right, like she was born to be one. The fact that she was the only one who stated their position wasn’t lost to you. It was an assertion–a claim–and this again should’ve intimidated you but it only made you smile. 
Now that introductions were done, the girls dispersed as per Madam Cata’s instructions. 
“Alexia. Come here, my child.” Madam Cata called out which stopped Alexia from running away with the rest. She froze midstep, her eyes darting to you then back to Madam Cata, before she reluctantly turned and shuffled until she was beside the woman. 
“Seeing as the both of you are the closest in age, Alexia, I’d like you to make her feel welcomed.” Madam Cata began, placing a hand on Alexia’s shoulder, and then she continued, “You two are the youngest in the club and I have high hopes that you two will become friends.” 
Madam Cata smiled at you, then to Alexia. “What do you say, Alexia?”
Alexia said nothing and only stared at you. You stood your ground and stared back, waiting for Alexia’s move. In this moment, doubt crept in and your resolve wavered. Were you mistaken? Did she really not like you? She hasn’t even given you the chance, yet… You thought in disappointment. 
And then Alexia, instead of replying to Madam Cata, stuck out her open hand to you. “Let’s go?”
You couldn’t help it. You grinned.
Giving Madam Cata one last look, you took Alexia’s hand. It was sweaty and warm, and her grip was gentle. And then she was pulling you forward, easing you both in a run. And as you took off hand-in-hand across the yellowing grass of the field, Alexia turned her head to you and a tentative smile crinkled the corner of her lips, and you found the rest of your worries melting away.
You squeezed her hand, smiling.
And, this was the best part:
She squeezed your hand back. 
[2]
By the end of the day, Alexia’d introduced you to everyone, and all the other girls had warmed up to you, including the ones who’d intimidated you at first. Alexia may be young, but you saw how the other girls respected her. Despite this, Alexia remained sincere and kind, and this fact made your admiration for her grow
Training-wise, Madam Cata separated you from the rest at first, testing your stamina and evaluating your technical skills before she eventually let you join in on the 7-a-side matches that ended today’s training. You were slightly disappointed that you didn’t end up on the same team as Alexia, but it was fun defending against her. To your surprise, it didn’t even bother you that your team lost. Maybe it was because you got to witness Alexia shoot the winning goal, but of course you kept that information to yourself. It was late afternoon when you finished, and all the other girls had been taken home by their parents, except for you two.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait inside, girls?” Miss Teresa called out from the front door. 
Alexia shook her head to answer for the both of you. 
“We’re fine here, thank you.”
“Alright. Just stay in sight, okay?” 
The both of you called out in agreement and finally satisfied, Miss Teresa returned back to her desk. There were two large trees that flanked the path towards the front door, and under their shade were benches built to wrap around their bases. Under one of those trees, you and Alexia waited for your parents to pick you up. 
You kicked your feet in the air as they hung from the bench, relishing the way the cool breeze soothed the heat around the new bruise you got on your shin. 
“The bruise is getting bigger.” Alexia muttered. She’d taken off her headband and you noticed how short her hair actually was; only the front had enough length to fall over her face, parting in the middle to reveal her eyes. Apples were high in her cheeks and the remaining sunlight that filtered through the leaves played on her skin, and made her hazel eyes look lighter, almost green. She twisted her fingers as her lips curled into a regretful pout. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kick you.”
“Hey, come on, it was a game. It’s fine.” When the pout didn’t leave her face, you knocked your knee against hers and added, “It looks kinda cool, don’t you think?”
At that, an amused smile replaced Alexia’s pout. “Only you would think a bruise looks cool.”
“I’m different like that.” 
“Sure, you are.”
“I am. Why else are you talking to me?”
Alexia rolled her eyes and then she laughed. 
“What time are you getting picked up?” 
You looked at your watch.
 “My mom should be here any minute now. What about yours?” 
“Soon as well,” Alexia answered after she peeked at your watch. And then, she asked, “Do you live nearby?”
“No, I live in Mollet.” 
Alexia squeaked and at the sound, you looked at her and found her eyes were delightfully wide with surprise. “You do? I do, too!”
“Really?” You gasped, mirroring her in your excitement. Elation filled you at the prospect of Alexia living so close. Imagine the sleepovers, the after school football games! “Where do you live? What school do you go to?”
But when Alexia answered you and you recognised that the places she named were on the other side of town, you pouted in disappointment. When Alexia asked you what your face was about, you told her where you lived and your school, and then Alexia started pouting, too.
“I wish we lived closer. We could play football after school!” 
“Yeah! And you could stay over! Or maybe I could?” Alexia whined. “Why do you have to live on the other side of town?” 
“If I could drive a car, I would come over all the time!” You imitated holding a steering wheel, and you blew air through your lips, imitating an engine. 
Alexia slapped your arm, laughing. “Are you speeding? That’s illegal! If you drive like that, I’ll never get in the same car as you!” 
“Fine,” you sighed dramatically. “I won’t speed just for you.” 
“That’s comforting.” Alexia quipped dryly. “No, but I’m serious. I’ll ask my parents if I could stay the night some time. You should do the same!”
“I will. My parents will probably say yes as long as your parents are alright with it.” 
The sound of gravel being disturbed drew both of your attention. A car and a truck parked in the space in front of you, and you recognised the car to be your mom’s. 
“My mom’s here. Is your–”
“Papá!”
Alexia jumped out of her seat and ran towards the other car, a truck, whose door opened to reveal a man, Alexia’s father. He was tall, like really tall, towering over the truck next to him. He had long, loose gray pants on that stretched all the way up to his chest; the upper part reminded you of a bib, and the white shirt beneath was covered with what you supposed to be car oil—your own father had come into the house with the strange scent and feel of it enough times for you to know the look of it from a distance. There was some of it on his cheeks as well, but Alexia didn’t seem to be bothered by it, for she immediately jumped into his arms, and he, with a cheerful laugh, lifted his daughter up with a small grunt.
You smiled at the sight. 
Seeing as Alexia’d gone to her father, you went ahead and did the same, jumping off the bench to meet your mother as she got out of her own car. 
“How was your day, my little firecracker?” Your mother asked after she’d greeted you with a kiss on your cheek, running her hands over your forehead and temple to wipe away the remaining sweat there.
“It was really good, Mamá! I made a friend! She’s over there. Look!” 
In your excitement, you tugged on your mother’s hand and pointed her over to where Alexia and her father were, only to find Alexia doing the same with her father.
Your mother laughed. “I see you’re very much alike, the two of you.”
And then, your mother waved at Alexia’s father, who waved back, before she began to walk over where they were, and you trailed behind her. She was probably going to talk to Alexia’s father, and you were excited to spend just a little more time with Alexia.
Alexia shoved her bag inside the truck before she ran to you. When she stopped right beside you and looped her arm around yours, you told her, “Your father’s so tall.” 
“He is, isn’t he?” Alexia beamed at you, pride in her voice as she looked at her father. “Is your father tall?”
“Yes, but not as tall as your dad.” And then a thought struck you as you looked back at Alexia. There was Alexia’s father, and here was Alexia. “You know, you look like your father.”
“Yeah, I know. People say it all the time.”
“And you don’t get sick of it?”
She looked at you with a confused frown. “No, why would I be?” 
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I’m not really sure why I asked that.” 
Alexia just smiled at you and asked, lowering her voice with mischief.  “What do you think they’re talking about?” 
She’d begun to shuffle forward, taking you along with her because of your linked arms, and now you could hear their conversation.
“–you and your family come over for dinner. I’d prepared so much tonight in celebration of my daughter’s entry to the club. I don’t think we could handle all the food at all.” Your mother laughed, and then she added, “We could also discuss the arrangements then.”
You turned to Alexia with wide eyes and met her gaze, which brimmed with excitement. Turning back to Alexia’s father, you willed him to say yes.
Alexia’s father scratched the back of his head, his other hand on his hip. “We’d love to come over. That is, if you don’t mind having a five-year-old over, of course.”
“No, we don’t mind at all! Please, do come over.”
“Okay, then I’ll tell my wife. What time should we head over?” 
“Nine should be fine.”
Alexia’s father nodded, and that was that.
You couldn’t hold your excitement any longer. You spun to face Alexia, grabbed her hands and both of you squealed. Laughter came from the direction of your parents, but you paid them no mind because all you could think about was that Alexia was coming over for dinner. 
“All right. That’s quite enough girls. Say goodbye now.” Alexia’s father said with a light voice. “You’ll see each other again later.”
Alexia nodded, and then soon she was hugging you. “Bye, I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Alexia.” You said, lifting your chin off her shoulder before you let her go and took your place at your mother’s side.
“Alright, Jaume, it was nice meeting you.”
Jaume, so that was Alexia’s father’s name. Jaume waved his goodbye to the both of you with a smile on his face, and then he and Alexia drove away.
On the way home, up until Alexia and her family got to your home, you were practically buzzing with excitement. You ran up to your room to bathe, changed, ran back down, and even then the clock’s hand was still not pointing to nine. 
“Honey, you peeking out through the window won’t make them get here any faster.”
A sigh escaped your lips, and pushing yourself off the window sill with a huff, you whined. “When are they getting here?”
Your mother laughed at that. “It’s only ten past eight, my love. Go to your father and help him. Maybe time will pass quicker that way, no?” 
Dragging your feet with another sigh, you made your way to the kitchen. Your father had his back turned to you when you entered through the archway as he busied himself on the kitchen counter. He stuck his hand into the bag of flour in front of him, and he spread it all over the counter, which caused a plume of white to rise in the air.
“Can I help?” You asked, shuffling closer so that you were beside him. There was flour everywhere on his side of the counter, while two empty baking trays were lined up in front of you. “What are you making, Papá?”
“This, my love, is pan de payés.” He lifted the tea towel in front of him to reveal four domes of raw dough, their surfaces taut with tension. He looked at them, and with a proud nod, he said, “Go wash your hands and help me with them.”
You did, and as you dried your hands, you asked, “Why are you making them? Don’t we have enough food for tonight?” 
“Why, they’re for our friends, of course. You wouldn’t want Alexia to leave here empty-handed, would you now, my love?”
Heat rose to your cheeks as you shook your head.
Your father smiled down at you with warmth. “Of course you wouldn’t. Now here, I’ll prepare this first one; you watch, and I’ll let you do the rest. How does that sound?” 
You nodded, and you watched. He carefully placed a dome of dough in the centre of the floured space, then took another pinch of flour and sprinkled it over the dough, before lightly running his hands over the surface to spread the flour evenly. He took out his bread lame and ran the blade over the surface of the dough, creating four gashes that intersected to form a diamond, and then he placed the dome on one side of a baking tray. 
You did as he did, albeit slower, and with the patient guidance of your father. After your father put the trays in the oven, the heat of it filled the space with warmth and light. As the two of you looked on at your work, your father began, “Remember this, my love. Food is an extension of our feelings and identities. It fills us, it sustains us, and it connects us. It makes us remember. When you eat your mother’s cooking, what do you feel? What do you think about?”
You didn’t even need to think; you answered immediately. “Warm. And I think about home, Mamá, and you.”
Your father smiled. “Good. Now, what do you think Alexia would think about if, say, she ate a piece of this bread for breakfast tomorrow?”
“Us?”
He hummed, and then a small laugh escaped his lips. He bent down slightly so he could tap your nose with his finger. “It’s going to be you, my love. How nice it is to be thought of, especially by a new friend, hmm?” 
You giggled, but a familiar warmth surged through you at the thought.
A knock resonated through the house, and you gasped, looking at your father in excitement.
“Ah, our friends are here. Go on, now.” Your father tilted his head in the direction of the front door, a half-smile on his lips. You gave him a hug, and you sprinted towards the door, only slowing down when a “No running, please!” resounded from the kitchen. 
“Oh, she’s so cute!” You heard your mother’s coo, and when you turned the corner, you saw her fussing over a little girl balanced on her father’s hip, while Alexia’s mother laughed warmly at your mother’s attention, and finally, you spotted Alexia looking up at her sister being pampered with a smile curling her lips.
You walked over to them.
“Ah! My daughter’s finally here.” Your mother placed a gentle hand behind your back. 
“Hello.” You greeted Alexia shyly, eyes fleeting from Alexia’s parents to her sister, then to Alexia herself, who was smiling at you. You stepped up to them to shake their hands, introducing yourself to them, and they did the same to you. You learned that Alexia’s mother was named Eli, and her little sister was named Alba. You offered your hand to Alexia as well, with a playful smile. Alexia caught on, and she giggled before throwing her arms around you.
“Isn’t she a dear? Oh, they seem so close already!” You heard Eli say it with a clap of her hands.
“Believe me, Alexia was all she could talk about the whole night!” 
Your cheeks heated when Alexia laughed against your ear at what your mother said, but in the end, you decided you didn’t quite mind. 
“Hello, welcome to our home.” Your father finally stepped out of the kitchen. He walked up to Jaume, shook his hand, and stooped down to press his right cheek against Eli’s. He cooed at Alba the same way your mother did, and he gave Alexia a wave. “You all must be hungry; please come join us in the dining area.” 
Once the lot of you moved to the kitchen, the evening progressed quite quickly, as it usually did when you were having a good time. Your parents got to know each other after they initially took turns talking about you and Alexia. They laughed and got lost in their conversations, while you and Alexia busied yourselves with Alba, helping her with her food, and who, after finally warming up to you, revealed herself to be a bundle of energy. 
At one point, the conversation moved to the living room, and this was when you and Alexia snuck out to the backyard. Alba’d fallen asleep not long after dinner, and she was safely pressed against Eli when the both of you took off. You’d lead Alexia to your favourite spot; it was a swing that hung from a branch of a sturdy tree, and this was how you found yourself pushing Alexia gently as she sat on it, her hands around the ropes of the swing.
“Why do you play football?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence. 
“How do you mean?”
“Like, are you only playing it for fun? Or, are you serious about it?”
You hummed as you pushed her. “I’m not sure yet. But, sometimes, when I’m in school, I find myself daydreaming about it.”
“That’s the same with me. It’s all I can think about. I dream about it, too.” 
“You’re serious about it.” It wasn’t even a question; you could hear it clearly in her voice. But she turned her head, and the look she gave you all but confirmed it. 
“I am,” she breathed out. “I really am.” 
You gave her another push. “Where do you want to end up?”
“Barça.” Her answer came quickly, like she’d thought it all through. And then she added, “One day, I’ll play for them.”
The conviction in her voice was enough to electrify you with a surge of inspiration, and as you pushed her on the swing, you had no difficulty believing that it would come true. Like Alexia said, it was only a matter of time.
One day.
You smiled, even though you knew she couldn’t see it. 
“I can see it, Alexia. And I know you’ll look great in scarlet and blue.”
[3]
“Yes, Mamá, I got it. Actually, can you text me the list?” 
“Ah, daughter of mine, have you taken so many balls to the head that you can’t even remember two things?” At your mother’s irritated response, a laugh bubbled from your throat.
“Actually, yes, Mamá. Probably a thousand by now. And I was joking, come on.” You waved back at a woman who thanked you as she crossed the pedestrian lane, and then you continued driving. As you turned the corner, you asked, “Why do you need so many drinks anyway? Are you having a party? You know I can’t drink during the season, right?”
“My girl, you have too many questions. Just make sure you come home in time, okay?”
“Yes, Mamá.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you alone. Have fun at training and give Alexia a kiss for me.”
The sentence made you tense, and you had to will your hands to loosen their grip on the steering wheel. You loved your mother, but there was no way in hell you would do that, even for her. 
You swallowed, hoping your apprehension wouldn’t show through your voice. “Okay. I’m going to go now. I love you. Tell Papá I love him, too. And Nona.” 
“I will. They’re very excited to see you. And I love you, too, my little firecracker.” 
Just as you hung up the phone, you turned the corner and found the parking lot of the Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper. You parked your car and took out your gym bag. The sun was high enough to blind you, so you put a hand over your eyes, and you saw the tall building that sported Barça’s logo. And as if you were greeting an old friend, you whispered, “It’s good to see you again.”
“Hello!” 
A cheerful voice addressed you from behind. You turned back, and you saw a woman of slight build, shorter than you, with short brown hair that curled just behind her ear. Some locks fell on her temple and covered her left eye, and the sun made her hair look golden. She was wearing loose, off-grey high-rise pants and a black long-sleeved turtleneck that accentuated the curve of her body.
She was beautiful.
And she was also Tori Favaro, the top-scoring forward for Roma last season and the fourth candidate for last year’s Ballon d'Or. Also, the other half of Barcelona’s new transfers this season.
Of course, you knew about her.
“Hey, Tori,” you said with a smile. 
She was now in front of you, and she grinned, which revealed the dimple in her left cheek. “I didn’t think you’d remember me!”
“How could I forget? The only other time I met you, you gave me a hard time!”
“You’re telling me! We couldn’t get past you at all! The fact that the only goal we got that day was from our own goal is still a bit embarrassing.” She laughed, followed by a sigh–wistful. The two of you walked towards the entrance of the Gamper. “I can’t believe that was more than ten years ago.”
At her wistfulness, you couldn’t help but recall the memory as well: FIFA U17’s World Cup, when Spain and Brazil clashed during the knockout stages. Tori was relentless in her attack, and you barely saved the balls that managed to get past your defenders. Even then, you—and everyone who had eyes—saw her potential, and now look how far she’d come; she was very well on track to getting a Ballon d'Or, and she was never more in her prime than now. 
“Is there any chance of you representing your country again now that you’re back in Barça?” 
“I’m not sure. I’ll just make my decision when they call me up the next time.” You shrugged, hefting your gym bag over your shoulder. The sudden urge to change the topic rose in you, so you asked quickly, “How are you finding Barcelona so far?”
Thankfully, Tori took the bait, and you happily listened to what she had to say about your city as the both of you walked through the lit, pristine corridors of Gamper, which, as you noted in passing, were strangely barren, as you reacted every now and again to whatever Tori said, even recommending her places worth going to. 
As Tori pushed the door to the locker room, a frown crossed her face, and she looked behind her. “Where is everyone?”
“I don’t–”
“Welcome to Barça!” Came the unified greeting and the cheers that suddenly erupted. 
A sign that read the same thing with the letters in alternating scarlet and blue, accented by some yellow hearts, was held between Marta and Alexia while the others stood in a semi-circle, clapping and hooting. A cake was on the centre table, and just behind it were piles of folded fabric, which you recognised to be yours and Tori’s set of training kits. Beside you, Tori wore the same expression on your face: mouth agape, eyes wide in pleasant surprise.
The semi-circle dispersed, and the next thing you knew, you were being hugged, patted on the back, and chatter filled the room.
“Look who’s back! Barça’s prodigal daughter finally returned home!” Mapi shouted, arms thrown up in the air, before she grabbed you by your shoulder to pull you into her.
“Don’t act like you missed me, asshole.” You laughed and punched her arm when she pulled away.
Mapi cradled her arm like you’d just injured her, looking at you with a look of exaggerated pain. She gasped, “Violence, already? Is that how you treat a teammate? I won’t stand for this. Alexia! Captain!” 
At that, you sidestepped around Mapi, but not after sticking your tongue out at her, as you navigated through your other teammates who welcomed you. You managed to get to the edge of the crowd, just at the end of the locker room, and that was when you saw Alexia with Tori. You were close enough to hear snippets of their conversation.
“–expect me to go easy on you.” Alexia said with a laugh, hands on her hips.
“Of course. Just because you’re my–”
An arm wrapped around your shoulder and a presence pressed up to your side. 
“So, did you get me Christen’s signature?” Patri’s voice filtered through your ear. 
You hissed through your teeth, your voice gravely low. “You know, I did ask her. She just doesn’t want to give it to you, dude.” 
Patri looked at you incredulously. “Wait. What do you mean?” 
“I’m not sure.” You shrugged, placing your gym bag on the nearby bench. “Did you say something to her the last time you saw each other?”
“Dude, the last time I saw her was what?” Patri frowned and blew air through her lips. “During the SheBelieves Cup? What–”
Grinning, you pulled something out of your bag and revealed it to her. Delight filled you upon seeing Patri’s eyes widen in recognition, her gaze fleeting between your face and down to the jersey. 
“Oh, you cheeky bastard!” She took the jersey from you, held it up in front of her to appreciate the signature down in the middle, and she embraced you with a force that made you grunt out a laugh. “Thank you!” 
A voice broke the two of you apart.
“Easy there, Patri. Don’t break any of her bones, please. She hasn’t even begun playing yet.” 
It was Alexia. 
Your heart lurched.
Patri looked at you, then at Alexia, and she put her hands up in surrender. Patri gave you one last knowing look—something that you tried hard not to think about too much—before she gave a two-finger salute to her captain, and off she went, leaving you alone with Alexia. 
“Hey,” Alexia greeted you and stepped into your space, arms wrapping around your shoulders. You tensed for a moment before you remembered to relax, snaking your own arms around her chest. “Now, I’m a bit jealous. Where’s my present?”
“I think I happened to spy it on your wrist, or am I just going blind?” You hummed. When you pulled away, you took her left hand and lifted it up. “Oh, look! There it is!”
Alexia threw her head back in laughter. 
The sight, like always, made you feel warm.
“So, I suppose you like it?” You couldn’t help it; shyness bled into your tone, and you only hoped that Alexia didn’t hear it.
“I love it. Thank you. It suits me, doesn’t it?” 
And though the silver band of the watch glinted around her wrist as it caught the light when she lifted her wrist to the level of your eye, you appreciated the way the golden flecks in her eyes shone despite the blue tint from the fluorescent lighting. 
“I’m glad you like it.” You said barely above a whisper, and you berated yourself at the softness that lingered there, but the way Alexia’s eyes became unfocused and lidded, as if she’d thought of a memory, made the slipup almost worth it.
Almost.
“Alright, good morning, everyone!” Jona’s voice pierced through the chatter, and everyone stilled, apt with attention, before sitting down on the bench. Alexia, Irene, and Marta remained standing but kept mostly to the sides. He, and two other assistant coaches, stepped into the room with their clipboards and folders in hand.
You shared a look with Tori. She snuck you a thumbs up, and you pressed your lips together, fighting a grin. 
“First of all, welcome to our new transfers.” A round of applause went around. Jona faced Tori, and he continued, “Tori, thank you for joining us. I hope you’ve settled yourself in the city, and we really look forward to playing with you.”
“I’ll do my very best to help our club. Visca Barça!” At the latter, hoots and claps erupted.
Jona laughed, but when he motioned for everyone to calm back down, the locker room grew silent again.
“And of course, this woman needs no introduction. Barça’s very own Wall has returned.”
Heat rose to your cheeks as cheers erupted once again. And it didn’t help that Alexia was looking at you with something akin to pride while clapping her hands, a soft smile on her lips.
“It’s great to be back, Jona. And like Tori, I’ll do my best to keep our club moving forward.” You caught Alexia’s eyes. “It is home, after all.” 
“It is home, indeed. Well, put your training kits on and meet us down at the fields. The rest of you, please head on over to Pitch 9.” 
Jona and the other coaches filed out. Alexia followed along with the rest, but not before giving you another look. You stared long after she’d gone, not knowing Patri remained in the changing room and saw the whole until you found her with a look of disapproval clear on her face.
She sighed, shook her head as she got up, and left.
Tori was there, too, and her eyes flicked between the door and you, then to the door again, and you could almost see the questions forming in her mind. You quickly took your training kits and entered one of the changing cubicles to spare yourself from any more confrontations. 
[4]
Training went relatively well. For the most part, anyway.
You were with the team for the warm-ups before you were separated—along with the other goalkeepers—for technical training, and then Jona called all of you back for some 5-side matches. 
At one point, your team went against Tori and Alexia’s team. They’d linked up, the two of them, keeping their touches to two at most. They were close now, and Jana was just barely holding Alexia at bay. You spotted Tori’s signal from the corner of your eye, but you needed Alexia to commit to a pass. You kept your weight on your toes. With a body feint to the left, tapping the ball to the right with her outer foot, and a quick cutback to the left, Jana was defeated, and Alexia kicked the ball.
Now!
You sprinted forward to the left, where you knew Tori was, and you leaped. The ball stuck to your gloves mid-air.
“Holy shit!” It came from a surprised Tori. 
You would’ve laughed, but you spotted an unmarked Caro who was making a run for it. You wound your shoulder back right after you landed on your feet and released the ball before Tori and Alexia could even think to get back. 
It sailed right on over to Caro, and she brought it down with her chest. Ingrid was on Caro all at once, but Esmee surged forward to follow a diagonal path from behind Caro, asking for the ball, and it only took one moment’s hesitation from Ingrid for Caro to make just enough space for her to shoot.
The ball went past the nearest post, and you pumped your hand in the air. When Caro saw you with her arm around Esmee, she gave you a thumbs up, and you returned the gesture with a clap.
It was nearing midday when all of you’d cooled down and headed to the gym. On the way inside, Tori ran up to you. 
“You nearly took off my head there.” She said, just slightly out of breath as she patted your back.
“I was going to tell you, ‘Heads up!’, but that would’ve ruined the surprise now, right?”
“Remind me not to play opposite you again.” She joked. “I forgot how aggressive you play. And I think you’ve only gotten worse!”
“It comes with the title.” You said, winking at her.
“Does it now?” She said it dryly, squinting at you. And then the both of you parted ways for your respective workouts.
It was going relatively well, but at one point, your attention moved to Alexia without meaning to. Alexia stood watch over Tori, who was lying down on the bench and lifting, attentive, and they conversed with a familiarity that transcended more than that of acquaintances. And you knew, then, that they’d probably hung out outside of sporting functions.
For some reason, the sight made you ache. 
Then a sigh came from somewhere beside you. You turned and found Patri there with her levelled expression, but her eyes were knowing with the way they looked at you. She tilted her head and patted your back before making her way to the exit. You hesitated for a moment, but, as if it had its own volition, your body stood up and followed her out to the sunlit pitch. 
Patri was further away now; she hadn’t stopped walking, and you had to jog to catch up with her. It took a moment, but you finally matched her stride, and without even looking at you, Patri began, “How are you?”
You stuck your hands into the pockets of your shorts. “Fine.”
Patri hummed, obviously unconvinced. She took a breath and let it out loudly through her teeth. Your shoulders locked at the sound, and you prepared yourself for the weight of whatever she was about to say. 
“I saw you looking at her,” Patri said, straight to the heart of the matter, and your body coiled tighter with tension. “You went through all that trouble. Yet, you’re back here again and still not over her. In fact, I think you’re—” Patri sent you a look, though this one fleeted so quickly that you weren’t able to decipher it. She blinked, returning her gaze forward. “Never mind.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course, it fucking does!” Patri exclaimed. “You were doing better! And then you ghosted me for months. The last time we talked, everything was going well with—"
“Don’t.” The word came out firm—a warning. “Patri, please, I don’t want to talk about it.”
Patri’s voice softened. “So... something did happen.”
“Patri. Drop it.”
Patri stopped walking just several metres away from the gym tent; you’d finished a lap around the pitch. She frowned at you, and you were ready to fight back if she insisted on talking about it, but she shook her head, and the frown melted away, and in its place was a look of pity.
“Okay. I hope you know what you’re doing. Just ready yourself.”
A pause and a hesitant look flashed through her face. But Patri was a good friend because she was direct, almost callous in the way she called everything as it was, and it was something you’d always liked and admired about her. Now it was no different because she said, “I think you know yourself already, but I just thought I’d let you know. Alexia has a girlfriend.” 
Despite yourself, your heart dropped. And you ached.
Oh.
Patri must’ve seen something on your face because that pitying look deepened with a hint of sympathy. She patted your back gently before she headed back in. You breathed deep, and it came out shaky, but you steeled yourself as you parted the entrance to the gym. 
Alexia’s laughter filled the air, drawing your attention immediately. And there she was in the same spot, holding onto Tori’s shoulder for support, bent over in her amusement, while Tori looked at her with a dimpled smile. 
You turned away.
[5]
A grunt escaped your lips as you got out of the car, your muscles bearing a pleasant soreness. You turned your headlights off and parked in front of your parents’ house. It was later than you’d expected, but the additional technical session and the meeting with Jona caused you to be one of the last ones out of the Gamper. 
With the cake and drinks you promised your mother to get in hand, you knocked on the door and waited. There was a lone light that filtered from the living room, which you found a bit odd, but tiredness won out, and you decided to pay it no mind. Maybe your parents were just relaxing on the couch. 
No one answered. 
Frowning, you placed the drinks on the porch step, and you balanced the cake on one hand as you opened the door with your key. 
You let yourself in, and the hallway was dark.
“Mamá? Papá? Where–”
The lights in the hallway and the kitchen flashed on in quick succession, nearly blinding you.
“Surprise!” The resonant cheer came, and the cake box jumped in your hand, nearly slipping. 
You found your mother’s face first, and you laughed, “Oh my god!” 
“Welcome home, my love!” Your mother embraced you, and you barely had enough time to angle the cake away and put the box of drinks down so she could do it properly. You leaned down, and she placed a kiss on your cheek, and then the other. 
“Hello, Mamá.” You muttered, closing your eyes, soaking in her presence and the peace that came with it. Oh, how you missed her. Another pair of arms wrapped around you; it was your father’s, and suddenly heat rose to your eyes at the warmth that seemed to blanket over you, both inside and out. 
“Let me grab that for you, my love.” Your father said, taking the cake box from your hand, but not before kissing your temple as a greeting. 
When you pulled away, you saw it wasn’t just your parents there. There were Eli, Alba, and Alexia, with little Nona in her arms. Nona’s white coat was a stark contrast to the dark shirt that Alexia wore. There was a tender smile on her lips, her eyes almost wistful as she caught your gaze. And could you really blame your heart if it ached beneath the weight of her gaze?
“Oh, sweetie, have you grown taller?” Eli asked as she stepped into you, hugging and kissing your cheeks like your mother did. 
“I’m not sure about that, Eli.” You giggled into her ear. “How are you?”
“Growing grey hair, love. You went away, and I had no one else to keep Alexia in line. Alba doesn’t help; in fact, she encourages her sister’s wiles, and Alexia does the same. Partners in crime, these two!” 
Alba’s laughter resonated in your ear when you hugged her next, and you chuckled at the exasperation in Eli’s voice. Alba retorted, “Má, how else could we keep you on your toes?” 
“I’d very much not want to be kept on my toes. Thank you very much.” 
“Eli, I’m sure Alexia couldn’t be that bad. She’s always been a good girl.” At that, you caught Alexia’s gaze with a smirk. Her eyes twinkled with recognition, probably remembering what the both of you got up to behind your parents’ backs. She shook her head slightly, mouthing, ‘You’re an asshole.’
You gave her another smirk before you added lightly, "Alba, on the other hand...”
You didn’t even finish the sentence before you got a well-deserved punch to the arm from Alba herself—a punch you knew would surely form a bruise. Cradling your sore arm, you yelped, looking at Alexia for help.
“Alba, please don’t injure our new goalkeeper. We need her.” Alexia said calmly, and you looked at Alba triumphantly. Alba opened her mouth to protest, it seemed, but Alexia cut her off. “There’s no need for that. I’ll just ask Jona to make her do some extra laps during warm-ups in our next training session.”
“Yeah, that’s right—hey!” Realising what she said, you scoffed while Alba threw her head back, laughing. Alexia’s lips were curled up in a satisfied smirk, looking much like someone who’d gotten the last word. 
“Ha! That’s what you get—” 
Eli cut Alba off. “That’s enough, you three. I swear, when you’re together, you act like you’re all still ten!” 
“It’s a bit endearing, though, isn’t it, Eli?” Your mother laughed, putting a placating hand on Eli’s shoulder. “But Eli is right. We should take this all to the dining table, no? The food is about to grow cold.”
[6]
In the two years you lived in the States, you spent most evenings alone, and the food you’d cooked from the recipes you took with you never tasted like home. It’d been so long, you nearly forgot how filling food should be—both in mind, body, and spirit. But now, in the presence of your family, with their love laid out in front of you—your mother’s arrós negre, Eli’s fricandó, and your father’s pan de payés—with their laughter and their warmth, you were finally filled again. 
You ate mostly in silence, soaking in the scene and the ruckus with a smile, and the detail of that one empty chair wasn’t lost to you either. The reminder drew your attention to Alexia. She’d tied her hair in a low ponytail and left two locks of her hair to frame either side of her face, which made her look all the more beautiful. In this light, Alexia’s image seemed to split in such a way that you could almost feel a presence in that empty seat beside her, looking on at this scene as you were.
Grief gripped at your heart, but love was quick to soothe the pain with its gentle caress. 
The minutes flew by, and many times you caught Alexia sneaking peeks at her phone, sometimes even texting while she wore a tender expression. If anyone saw it, no one called her out for it—well, maybe except for Eli, who, upon spotting her daughter on her phone, gave her a reprimanding smack against her arm, followed by a hissed scolding. Alexia looked so much like a child just then, with her wide eyes, that you nearly spat out your drink. She caught you staring, and she squinted her eyes. To that, you blinked innocently at her, curling your lips slightly to let her know you saw the whole thing. 
“So, are you in a relationship, dear?” Eli’s unexpected question made the water go into the wrong hole, and you spluttered. Alba patted your back while Alexia eyed you with concern and curiosity. Eli asked, “Are you okay, love?”
You gave her a thumbs up.
“Alright. Where was I? Right. Being in America for two years, surely you must’ve met someone.”
After composing yourself finally, you answered, “No, I’m not, Eli. I’d been so busy that I had no time for it, really.”
“What? A pretty girl like you all alone? I don’t quite believe that!” Eli exclaimed. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you with anyone.”
“Apart from that poor boy... What was his name?” Your father added. He snapped his fingers. “Ah! Guille! Nice boy, he was. Where is he now anyway?”
“We were never together, Papá.” For some reason, you felt the need to clarify that. “And he’s in London, finishing his PhD at York.” 
“Wow, that’s amazing. And I never knew you kept in touch.” Your mother’s brows shot up in surprise, and you thought you heard a hint of awe in her tone. Teasingly, she said, “Are you sure you’re not seeing him?”
You sighed internally, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You smiled and said, “Yeah, sometimes. I haven’t seen him in a while, though, but the last time we talked, he and his girlfriend were looking for a new apartment.” 
“Oh, he has a girlfriend, does he? That’s unfortunate.” 
“Not for me. I’m glad he’s happy.” You shrugged before you sipped your water.
“Are you waiting for someone, maybe?” Alba teased, wagging her brows.
You tensed, and you'd paused too long, it seemed, because Alba gasped. 
“Oh, she is! Who is it?” 
“Alba,” came Alexia's warning tone.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m just excited.” Then Alba sighed dreamily, “I just think it’s kind of romantic.
You could feel the weight of Alexia’s eyes on you, but you dared not look up. You kept eating.
No. It wasn’t romantic. 
It was painful.
[7]
After you helped clean up despite your mother’s insistence not to, and after an hour of sitting in the living room conversing, the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with you. You needed to be alone, so you took little Nona from your lap and into your arms and snuck out into the garden. The light that streamed out from the living room was adequate enough for you to spot your old swing. You went to it, and, after inspecting and deeming it fit to take your weight, you sat on it and began a gentle rhythm, running your hand over Nona’s head, who purred at the attention.
The sound of grass being disturbed pricked at your ears, and you knew it was Alexia even before she spoke.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
You turned your head to the side where Alexia’d rested her back against the tree trunk, half of her face bathed in the incandescent glow of the living room light. You hummed in answer.
“Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 
“You’re on your swing.” Alexia spoke as if that fact held the answer to your question. “You used to come here and sulk.” 
You scoffed. “I didn’t sulk.”
“You did. You’re doing it right now!” Alexia teased.
“Now I am because you’re bothering me!” 
“Fine, I’ll leave then.” 
You knew Alexia was joking, but when she made an exaggerated move to leave, you spoke softly, “No, stay. Please.” 
Alexia froze, and after a moment, she leaned back on the tree again. 
“I’m sorry about Alba if she did cross a line.”
“She didn’t; don’t worry. Thank you, though.”
“Are you sure? You seemed uncomfortable.”
“I was uncomfortable because I happen to not like talking about my love life.” You said, a bit defensively. “Wouldn't you feel uncomfortable too if I started grilling you about who you’re with right now?” 
Alexia remained silent. You huffed, “Exactly.”
A silence settled in the air. 
You gripped the rope of the swing, and the texture felt off. You inspected it; the rope was new.
“Yeah, uh, I had them replaced.” Alexia admitted, and when you faced her, she was rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “I kind of broke it when I was here last.” 
Another pause. “I hope you don’t mind. Sometimes, I like to come here to think. Plus, I get to visit your parents and Nona, so, yeah.” 
“No, of course I don’t mind. This is your home as much as it is mine. We’re family.”
Alexia opened her mouth while a hurt look flashed behind her eyes. She seemed to change her mind because she closed her mouth and bit her lip before she eventually said in a hoarse voice, “Yeah, of course.” 
Alexia was standing right there, but you’d never felt farther from her than now. There was a rift between you, but it was only you who could see it—you could feel it widening and deepening. Maybe Alexia could feel it, too, but you were sure it wasn’t like the way you did. 
It didn’t cut her the way it wounded you. 
Nona meowed softly in your lap as she stood, nosing at your chin and dragging her head on your jaw. You cooed as you scooped her up, pressing a kiss into the warmth of her fur, and you giggled when she licked your cheek and began purring. Alexia kneeled in front of you, running a finger under Nona’s chin, who purred even louder from the added attention. 
“She really missed you, you know.” Alexia whispered, and as she did, she gazed up at you. The warm light made her eyes shine and her cheeks glow with an earnestness that you longed to caress, that invited you to trace the outline of her brow and to feel the soft skin just beneath her eye. 
She was so beautiful. 
She’d always been.
You could never tell her that, and it hurt.
“I missed her, too.” You breathed softly, “So much.”
And still looking into her eyes, you murmured even softer, “You have no idea.” 
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thesmollestsnek · 1 year
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Death echoes
So a while ago, i found this dp x dc post that had a really interesting lore headcanon for Danny’s ghostly wail. Idk if I’ll be able to find it again, I’ll link it here if I do, but essentially it posited that every ghost has something called a “death echo”, which is an ability unique to them based heavily on their deaths. These echoes are the most powerful move in a ghost’s moveset, but they’re also extremely volatile and draining, typically damaging the ghost in some way when used, with Danny’s being his Wail because he died screaming. The original post then went on to some really cool halfa!Jason ideas based on these death echoes, but for this lil snippet with an extremely long intro I’d like to focus on Danny a bit more.
Edit: Apparently I may have extrapolated a lot of the actual lore behind these death echos myself? The inspiration post was a lot longer in my memories. Or I might've mushed multiple posts into one mental box and then forgot lol. So a lot of the actual detail from this point on is seemingly mostly original material? I think? Idk man, sometimes my brain spits out information without giving me any clues as to where it got that information. Anyway, this post got kinda long and since I'm... decently sure this is where I shifted from summarizing @ailithnight's post to writing all my own thoughts I figured here would be a good place to throw the cut lol.
So! with all of the context-for-the-context out of the way, let’s move on to the actual context for what I’m writing cause I can’t be bothered with writing an intro XD
Essentially, this is an au where Danny is an established member of the Justice League, or maybe one of the teen hero teams? I’m a slut for eternal teenager Danny, but maybe he’s enough of a powerhouse to be on the main team despite him both looking and acting like the dumbass fourteen year old he died as. Either way, he’s on a League/League-sanctioned mission and things go bad. Like, everyone-almost-dies bad. And so as a final desperation attack, Danny uses his Wail, a power he’s never told anyone on the league he even has. And it works, and they make it out, but after the fact everyone has. Questions. And because in this au death echoes are deeply personal, Danny dodges those questions, but the league coughbatmancough isn’t satisfied with that. So they push for answers. Answers Danny’s not willing to give, because. In my mind death echoes aren’t just based on how a person died, but also their experience of that death. What their last thoughts were. When Danny died the only thing that he could process beyond just an all-encompassing painpainpainpainpain was the sound of someone screaming. His screaming. And so his death echo is the sound of a fourteen year old child screaming in deathly pain and terror weaponized, which definitely gave the league Even More Questions than they would’ve had already. Which finally brings us to the actual snippet, which is a conversation between John Constantine, who was brought in for his experience with the supernatural once it became clear Danny wasn’t going to talk, and Danny himself. 
~~~~~~~
“So, kid. Batsy tells me you’ve been hiding some of your abilities, wanna tell me what's up with that? Call it an occultist's intuition, but somethin’ tells me you’re not just being stubborn for the hell of it.”
“It’s... complicated. And not anyone’s business, either!”
“Kid...”
“Why does it even matter?! It’s not something I want to or am even able to do on a regular basis! I saved the mission, can’t they just accept that and move on???”
Sighing, Constantine reached up to start massaging his brow. “Kid, you and I both know that ain’t gonna be enough. Now I know that some things are better left alone, but the rest of these idiots? They can’t accept that, Batsy especially. That man’s never left bloody well enough alone in his life”
He looked up just in time to see the otherworldly teen shrink into himself, looking every bit the child he was. “I know but... why? Why do they need to keep asking questions? And why do they only ask the ones that hurt to answer?”
A sharp glance. “The fuck kinda questions are they asking? Batman was speaking in more grunt than word, so I didn’t really catch all the details of what this power you’re supposedly hiding even is.”
Phantom shrinks even more into himself at that, and responds in a voice so small it’s more sigh than speech. “I... I can scream. And it breaks things and pushes people back. But it, it sounds. Bad. And it brings up bad memories and I don’t like to do it or listentoitoreventhinkaboutitandtheywon’tletmeforgetand-”
“Breathe kid. I know you don’t need to but just take a deep breath with me. Don’t you go getting lost in your own head on me now., Constantine reassured the kid automatically, the sheer hopelessness prompting action long before the words themselves could be understood. Then the rest of him caught up, and he had to pause. Looked up at the kid, saw just how distressed he was. A picture was starting to form in the back of his head, and Constantine didn’t like what he saw one bit. A last-resort power that the normally open Phantom was strangely reticent about. A scream so horrible sounding the rest of the league would not to stop asking questions about it. Terrible memories to match said scream. And one truly miserable child who couldn’t bear to even think about any of it. 
“Phantom... is that your Echo? Screaming?”
A miserable nod is his only response, the tears that had been welling up in the kid’s eyes finally starting to fall. Cursing softly to himself, Constantine stood to leave, bracing himself for the Bat’s inevitable questioning. “Well then you just take all the time you need love, and leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure the rest of those idiots know not to ask you about this ever again.”  And with that Constantine turned and strode towards the door, leaving the quietly sobbing child to collect himself in privacy.
~~~~~
I had a whole-ass lore dump conversation between Constantine and Batman planned here, explaining how death echoes are deeply personal, and asking about one is a taboo on par with, potentially even worse than, asking a ghost about their death outright. Because they are formed from an amalgamation of how a ghost died, their last thoughts, and their final emotions, in some ways asking a ghost about their Echo is like asking them to describe their death in painstaking detail. But uhhh... inspiration bug left. So yea. Side note, I’d like to apologize if my depiction of Constantine’s accent was Bad, I’m but a lowly USAmerican whose only exposure to British accents is through tv ^-^’
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