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Masterlist

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masterlist

barcelona femeni x teen reader

overview: you play for barcelona femeni at club level and england at national level

social media series

hurricanes series

arsenal wfc x teen reader

overview: you play for arsenal at club level and australia at national level

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yall i have a fic mostly done. i just always struggle with how to end things 😭

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i have a fic in the works inspired by a request! hopefully it will be out soon!!

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OMG UR BACK!! I WAS ONE OF YOUR OG READERSS

yes i am! at least going to try to be back!! thanks so much for sticking around for so long!❤️❤️

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hi everyone! sorry for the break. i want to get back into writing in my spare time. what would yall like to read about? any suggestions are welcomed! give me ideas!!

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alright yall. i just reorganized hurricanes so it was less bulky. i combined some parts to make it so there are less chapters. that being said, if you only want to read the new chapter, just read part 4. that is all new while the other three are old ones combined and edited a little. enjoy!

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hurricanes: part 4 (looking up)

Summary: Things start to change now that you're at Mapi and Ingrid’s home. 

It wasn't until a few minutes later when Ingrid reappeared from the kitchen with two mugs and a cup of milk, you felt relaxed. She reached over to hand you one and you took it with both hands, grateful for the warmth. Sebastian had already made himself at home on the couch, flipping through the TV with Mapi’s help. He didn't even move his eyes when Ingrid handed him the milk.

You watched him for a second, your chest aching with something strange. He just looked so comfortable. He never seemed this relaxed at home. 

“He doesn’t know,” you murmured, soft enough that he wouldn’t hear.

Mapi raised an eyebrow. “Know what?”

You looked down at the steaming mug. “How bad it really is. I try to keep it from him. He just thinks that that's how parents act.”

Mapi’s voice was quiet. “You’ve done a good job. You are a great protector but you shouldn’t have had to.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to. So you sipped your drink and sat on the edge of the couch. 

Ingrid sat across from you, legs crossed, watching you gently. “We’ll figure this out,” she said. “Whatever it takes.”

You blinked, not fully believing her. “But what does that mean? We can’t just stay here forever.”

“No,” Mapi admitted. “But we’re not sending you back there. Not ever, I promise.”

Ingrid nodded. “We’ll call someone tomorrow. The team’s lawyer is good. She’ll know what to do.”

You wanted to believe them but your brain wouldn't let you. You felt as the panic bubbled up in your chest. “What if they make us go back? What if they don’t believe me?”

Mapi rubbed your shoulder. “They will,” Mapi said firmly. “And if they don’t, we’ll make them.”

You could tell by her voice that she was serious. This clearly mattered to her even if you didn't understand why. You set the mug down with shaking hands. “I don’t want to split up from Bash. I'm all he has.” That was your biggest fear. 

“You won’t,” Ingrid said. “We won’t let that happen.” 

How would you even stop it? You thought. You knew that if you were told to go back home, no one could stop it from happening. But you didn't voice your distrust. Not when the two women were working so hard to console you. 

Ingrid’s eyes never left you. Mapi got up and ruffled your hair gently. She gestured to your brother and said, “Go help Seb pick out a show. I’ll grab you something to sleep in.”

You hesitated. You didn't want to stop the conversation but you also knew both you and Bash were exhausted. You rose to your feet and walked to where your brother sat. You tried to block out Ingrid and Mapi’s quiet conversation and focus on the TV.

Sebastian smiled at you before pulling you in tight. “Look,” he whispered, pointing at the screen. “Their TV doesn't have a black spot.” 

You managed a laugh. A real one. Of course that's what he would notice. Your mother broke your TV months ago and since then, there has been a black line crossing it. 

Mapi returned a minute later with a hoodie that was far too big and a pair of soft flannel pants. “Bathroom’s down the hall if you want to change,” she said.

You took them and disappeared down the hallway, pausing at the mirror. You felt frozen for a second. You were shocked at how awful you looked. Your eyes were dark and it seemed as if you hadn’t slept for ages. Your freckles that normally stood out were more hidden behind your tiredness. You didn't look like you. But you also didn't feel like you. Everything was wrong. 

You knew if you stood for too long, Mapi or Ingrid would get worried so you pushed yourself into the bathroom and began to strip off your uniform from earlier. The clothes Mapi had given you were clearly too big but felt comfy nonetheless. They smelled like her and that was the most comforting thing for you. 

When you returned, Sebastian was already curled up on a makeshift bed on the floor with his head on a pillow that definitely belonged to Ingrid if the small lip gloss stain was anything to go by. You sat beside him and tucked your knees up to your chest. You tried to be as small as possible. Mapi handed you a blanket without saying anything and sat beside you on the floor. Ingrid lowered the volume and settled in a nearby chair.

The cartoon played on, but none of you were really watching. Sebastian was drifting slowly off to sleep. You glanced sideways at Mapi. “Thank you,” you whispered. She didn’t look away from the screen. “Anytime.”

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The next morning came too fast. If it were up to you, you would never get out of bed. Not when you knew what today would entail.

You’d barely slept. Every time your eyes drifted closed, your brain sprung awake. But Sebastian slept soundly the whole night, curled into the blanket with his hand occasionally reaching for yours like he used to when he was small. You never let go.

Mapi was the first person you saw. She got up quietly and headed to the kitchen. You heard the soft clatter of mugs, the hum of a kettle, the low murmur of Ingrid joining her. The light filtering through the curtains was warm and yellow, but it still made your stomach twist with dread. You didn’t want today to come. Because today meant telling. Today meant proving.

“Hey,” Ingrid said softly from the doorway. “We’ve got food if you’re hungry. The lawyer’s expecting us at eleven. No pressure. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

Sebastian stirred at that, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked up at you, confused for a moment. Then he remembered where he was and smiled. “You’re still here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said gently, brushing his hair back.

He nodded and sat up slowly. “Do we have to go to school?”

“Not today,” Mapi said, walking in with a plate of toast and fruit. “Today’s for other stuff.”

You ate quietly, barely tasting the food. Mapi handed you clothes to borrow and you dressed while Ingrid got Sebastian ready. The whole morning felt like a waiting room. Everything was quiet and kind, but your body buzzed like it was about to shatter.

Ingrid drove this time. Mapi sat in the back with you and Sebastian. His hand rested lightly in yours the entire ride. The car smelled like mint gum and coffee.

When they pulled up in front of the law office, your stomach dropped. “I don’t want to go in,” you whispered.

Mapi didn’t hesitate. “You don’t have to say anything you’re not ready to say. We’ll be with you the whole time.”

You glanced at Sebastian. “Does he have to be there?”

“No,” Ingrid said. “There’s a receptionist. She can keep him company. There are toys and coloring books. He’ll be fine.”

You nodded slowly. Sebastian was fidgeting, confused but not scared. “You’re gonna talk to someone?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, gently. “Just to get help.”

He seemed a bit confused but didn’t push. “Oh. Can I draw dinosaurs while you do?”

You smiled faintly at his innocence. “Yeah, bud. You draw the biggest one you can.”

Inside, the office was quiet and smelled like citrus. The receptionist smiled warmly and led Sebastian to a small kids' nook in the corner, where he immediately flopped down with a set of markers. You watched him for a long moment before Mapi lightly touched your back.

“Come on,” she said. “She’s ready for us.”

The lawyer’s office was bright and full of books. The woman stood from her desk. “Hi,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Julía. I’ve worked with the team for years. And I’m here to help you.”

You shook her hand with clammy fingers and sat down between Mapi and Ingrid.

“I’m not a cop,” Julia said gently. “I don’t work for child protective services. I work for you. That means I only tell what you want told, when you want to tell it. But I can help you figure out the safest way to move forward.” You nodded slowly, throat dry. “Mapi filled me in a little,” she continued. “But I want to hear from you, when you’re ready. We’ll talk about custody, protection, guardianship. We’ll talk about what you want.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs. “What if I say I don’t want to go home?”

Julia nodded, like she’d expected that. “Then we’ll make sure you don’t. You and your brother.”

Your voice shook. “I don’t want to be split from him. He’s all I’ve got.”

“And he’s not going anywhere without you,” Julia said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You stared at her, at the legal pads on her desk and the quiet confidence in her voice. You still didn’t quite believe her. But Mapi’s hand brushed yours. Ingrid nodded at you across the desk. At least they seemed sure.

“Can we start?” Julia asked. “Only what you’re ready to say.”

You looked down at your lap. Your voice was barely a whisper. “Okay.”

And for the first time, you began to tell the truth. You took a breath that didn’t quite make it all the way in. Your fingers twisted in your lap, picking at the edge of the jacket Mapi had insisted you bring with you to the office. You could still smell her laundry detergent on it.

Julia waited quietly across the desk, pen resting on her legal pad, her expression steady and open.

You finally spoke. “My dad yells a lot,” you said, voice low and flat. “He throws stuff. Not really at us but just sorta around. Plates, remotes, whatever’s in his hand. He doesn’t really hit me. Not really. Just shoves, sometimes. Like if I don’t move fast enough.” Mapi’s hand slipped into yours without a word. You stared at the floor. “I try to keep Bash away when it starts. I tell him to go to our room, put on his headphones. I put on cartoons. He thinks it’s normal. He thinks dads are just like that.” Your throat started to close, and your voice came out strained. “But it’s not just him.”

Julia’s pen didn’t move.

You took a breath that trembled. “My mom’s always drunk. Like all the time. Mornings, nights. Doesn’t matter. She drinks out of a mug like she’s hiding it, but I can smell it. I know what vodka smells like.” You paused, eyes burning. “She doesn’t hit us either. But she doesn’t stop him. She just... fades out. Or laughs like it’s nothing. Or tells me I’m being dramatic.” You blinked fast, trying to hold it back. “Sometimes she cries after. But that doesn’t make it better.”

Mapi’s hand tightened. Ingrid’s jaw was set, her eyes glassy. Julia didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

You kept going.

“I do everything. I get Sebastian up for school. I make sure we have something to eat, even if it’s just cereal. I walk him home, I do the laundry when there’s soap. I try to keep the house quiet.” You wiped your face angrily with your sleeve. “I’ve been trying to keep it together for so long, I don’t even know what not being scared feels like anymore.”

And then the words just tumbled out.

“I thought if I could just hang on…if I could just make it…it wouldn’t matter. I could take Bash and go. I thought maybe if I was good enough, it would stop. Or at least get quieter. But it’s not stopping. And I’m tired. I’m so, so tired.” You nearly choked on a sob. You were crying now. Not the quiet kind. Not the single tear slipping down your cheek. It was messy and loud and you didn’t care anymore. You’d held it in for so long, you didn’t even know you could cry like this. Mapi pulled you into her arms without asking. You let her. For the first time, you let someone hold you while you broke.

“I can’t go back,” you sobbed. “Please don’t make me go back.”

Julia’s voice cut through the silence gently, but firmly.

“You won’t,” she said. “Not on my watch. We’re going to fix this. I promise.”

You believed her. For the first time, you actually believed someone.

The room had gone quiet again. You were still leaning into Mapi’s side, the jacket now bunched in your lap, the air thick with everything you’d just said. Ingrid hadn’t moved from her seat, but her foot had been bouncing beneath the table for the last ten minutes.

Julia gave you a moment, then cleared her throat gently. “Okay,” she said, her voice soft but focused, shifting back into something slightly more formal. “We need to figure out the next steps.”

You lifted your head slightly, still sniffling, but more in control now. “I want to stay with Bash,” you said immediately, voice firm despite everything. “Whatever happens.”

Julia nodded. “That’s the most important piece. Keeping you together. And keeping you both safe.”

Mapi squeezed your shoulder. “We’ve got space. And we’re not letting them split you up.”

Julia looked between Mapi and Ingrid. “I was actually going to ask you both about that.”

Ingrid blinked. “Us?”

“You’ve already taken them in for the night,” Julia said. “If you’re willing, we can start the emergency placement process. It’s temporary, at first. At least until we can make something more official. But if you’re open to it, it could mean they stay with you instead of being put into a stranger’s foster home.”

Mapi didn’t even pause. “Yes. Absolutely.”

Ingrid looked at her, then at you, then back to Julia. “What do you need from us?”

Julia smiled a little, scribbling a note on her legal pad. “I’ll need you both to fill out a few forms. Background checks, some quick interviews. We’ll send a social worker to visit the home today to make sure it’s safe and appropriate, but honestly, I doubt that’ll be an issue.”

“Not a chance,” Ingrid muttered. “That place is cleaner than my locker.”

Mapi laughed quietly. You looked at both of them, overwhelmed again but in a completely different way than earlier. “Are you guys sure? You don’t have to do this. It’s a lot. ”

Mapi turned to you, serious now. “We wouldn’t have offered if we weren’t. This doesn’t change anything for us. We’ve got you.”

Ingrid nodded. “We’re not walking away now. You’re not going through this alone.”

You couldn’t speak. You just nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from crying again. 

Julia pushed her chair back and stood. “I’ll go make some calls. Sit tight for a bit, alright?”

As she stepped out of the room, you leaned your head against Mapi’s shoulder again. Bash was still in the other room with a caseworker who was letting him color. You could hear his little voice humming through the thin wall.

Mapi tilted her head toward you. “We’re your people now,” she said. “Okay?”

You whispered it, but you meant it. “Okay.”

When Julía came back, she brought papers with her. There were a lot of forms that she walked Mapi and Ingrid through. You tuned the whole thing out. You focused on calming your breathing and accepting what just happened. It didn’t take long before Mapi was standing up and pulling you with her. As you left the office, Ingrid picked up Sebastian and you all headed out of the building.

The drive back was different this time.

Not just because it was daylight, or because you were in the backseat with Sebastian but because this time, you knew you weren’t going back to the house.Not ever.

Julia had given Mapi and Ingrid the green light just twenty minutes ago. Emergency placement approved. You and Bash were officially theirs at least for now. Sebastian didn’t fully understand, of course. But when Mapi turned around in the car and told him gently, “You’re staying with us, okay? Just for a while,” he smiled and said, “Do I still get popcorn?”

Mapi had to swallow before she could answer. “Yeah, bud. As much as you want.”

Now he was half-asleep with his head on your shoulder and his fingers curled around the fabric of your borrowed hoodie.

Ingrid glanced at you in the rearview mirror. “You holding up?”

You met her eyes. “Trying.” You attempted a smile but even you knew it probably looked painful.

Mapi twisted a bit from the front seat to look back. “Today was a lot. We don’t have to talk. Just get home, put on a movie, and crash.”

You nodded, grateful. “I think I’m just… numb. But better.” 

Ingrid smiled faintly. “That’s a good start.”

By the time they pulled into the familiar parking garage, Bash was out cold. You helped unbuckle him and Ingrid carried him in. He didn’t even stir as you three walked down the hallway and into the apartment.

Mapi opened the door and stepped aside to let you in first. You glanced around, remembering how different last night looked. Ingrid locked the door behind you.

She brought Bash straight to the couch and gently laid him down on the blanket nest Mapi had made the night before. He sighed and curled up like he belonged there.

You stood for a second, just staring at him. You hadn’t seen him sleep like that in months. No tense shoulders. No flickering eyelids. No kicking like he was running from something. Just… peace. Like a normal kid should sleep.

Mapi came up behind you and handed you a fresh set of clothes. “We ordered a few things for you both. Just enough until we can shop properly.”

“You didn’t have to-” you started.

“We wanted to,” she cut in softly. 

You felt your throat get tight again.

Ingrid walked into the kitchen. “By the way, I was thinking of just cereal for lunch. We’ll have something better for dinner but cereal is quick. Are you and Bash okay with that?.”

You laughed, a shaky, surprised sound. “He’ll eat anything with a cartoon character on it.”

Ingrid pointed at you. “Perfect. So will Mapi.”

“Hey,” Mapi said, unoffended. You gave her a cheeky smile and laughed as she swatted at you. 

You took the clothes to the bathroom, changing quickly and splashing water on your face. When you looked in the mirror this time, you still looked tired. Still raw. But different.

When you came back out, Mapi had laid out the bowls and cut fruit and cookies that definitely weren’t homemade. Ingrid poured two glasses of orange juice and one for herself. You sat at the table with them, the three of you eating in the kind of silence that felt… easy. 

After lunch, you curled up beside Sebastian again. He was still sleeping from his nap but stirred a little as you pulled the blanket over both of you. Mapi passed you the remote without a word Ingrid dimmed her phone screen and sat nearby, scrolling absently. The room fell into a soft, gentle quiet. With a random channel playing on the TV.

It was weird. You had known the two women for a while but you felt like it was forever. You felt like you were at an aunt's house or something rather than two people you met so many weeks ago. You didn't want to ever leave. Not when the two women were so kind. But you understood. This was only temporary. Because that's how it always went. Nothing good is permanent. 

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hurricanes: part 3 (it all comes down)

Summary: Things come crashing down around you

Ice cream lasted for a while. There was a flow of conversations and you guys talked about everything from school to football. Once you all finished your cones, it was decided that it would be time to head back.

You walked back to the field. Mapi had Sebastian on her back while you walked next to them. Your little brother still had ice cream smudged on his face but he was happy. That's all that really mattered to you. For the entire walk back, you could pretend like this was your life. Like it was all happy and ice cream and nobody screaming so loud that it gave you a headache. 

After getting back to the pitch, it was about a twenty minute walk to your house. You and Seb separated from the older women and began the walk home.  You wished it was longer. Sooner than you liked, you arrived in front of your door. You stared at the door. You didn't want to open it. If you opened it, you would be going back to your real life. The one you hated. Sebastian didn't seem to share these thoughts. He gave you a cheeky smile and put his hand on the nob. 

But the second he opened it, the yelling began and the cheeky smile was gone.

"Where the hell were you?" your father's voice boomed from the living room. You flinched, instinctively shielding Sebastian with your body. Your mom stood behind him with her face tight.

You knew you had to answer but you were also aware he wouldn't like it."We were just out-" you started, but he was already stomping toward you.

"Out with who?!" he barked. You hadn't seen him this angry in a while. At least not directed towards you. Sebastian's hands were tight in your shirt and you knew he must be terrified.

You wanted to stay quiet and just get to your room but it seemed as if your father was about to flip even more any second, “We went for ice cream with some friends.” You hated how small your voice sounded. You sounded like a scared little kid.

Your father’s face twisted, more anger now on his face. “Ice cream? With friends? Do you think that’s what you’re allowed to do? Just disappear and take him along like it’s nothing?” You didn't point out that you always disappeared with him and they never noticed before.

Sebastian whimpered behind you. You didn’t move, standing your ground even though your knees trembled. “He deserved a treat. We both did,” you said, barely louder than before, but this time your voice didn’t crack.

Your father did not appreciate this.“Don’t you dare talk back to me,” he snapped, finger jabbing the air in front of your face. “You are not his parent. You don’t make those decisions! Who are you to say what he deserved? What have either of you done recently?”

Your mom still hadn’t said a word, just standing behind him, eyes darting between his rage and your silence. She looked like she wanted to disappear. You knew she wouldn’t say anything. She never said anything.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you muttered, eyes fixed on the floor. “He was safe. I was with him the whole time.”

“I don’t care!” your father barked. “You don’t leave this house without permission. And you sure as hell don’t take him with you!” You thought about yelling back before deciding that was as dumb as could be. 

You all stood in silence for a moment. And then it came. The hand flying through the air as if it was going to strike. You involuntarily flinched into yourself. But for once, it didn't come down. Instead, the hand wrapped around your arm. It was just enough pressure that you were sure it would bruise. Sebastian yelped and held on tighter. “You want to play grown-up? Fine. Go sit in your room and think about how stupid you are.” 

He pushed you down the hall, barely letting you keep your balance as you clung to Sebastian with one arm. You didn’t even look back. You just let him shove you both along, the fury simmering in your chest with every step. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.  

Then the door opened, and he all but threw you both inside. You stood frozen for a second, breathing hard. Sebastian looked up at you with watery eyes, and you hated that he had to see any of this. Again.

You sat him on the bed gently, brushing his hair back. “You okay?” you asked.

He nodded, sniffling, and leaned into you. You stared at the door. Rage boiled in your stomach. You weren’t just angry. No it was more than anger. It was like you just felt… done. You were done being blamed. Done with the silence from your mom. And definitely done with the yelling, the fear, and the guilt.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you whispered to yourself, jaw clenched. You wrapped your arms tighter around Sebastian, your voice low. “I hate it here.”

Sebastian clung to you tighter, his small face covered in fear. "I didn’t do anything wrong," you said, stronger now, the blood roaring in your ears.

"I’m sorry," he sobbed into your shirt.

You wrapped your arms around him as tight as you could, pressing your face into his hair. "It’s not your fault," you choked out. "It’s never your fault, Bashman." For a long time, you just sat there, rocking him gently back and forth as the house creaked.

Sebastian looked up again. “Is… is he mad because we got ice cream?” It was clear he didn't understand. Honestly, you weren't sure if you fully did.

You swallowed, blinking back the tears behind your eyes. “No,” you said, brushing his hair behind his ear. “He’s mad because…” You tried to put it into words, “because he wants to control everything. Even when we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“But I liked today,” Sebastian whispered. “It was fun.” Your chest ached at that. 

“I know, Bashy,” you murmured, hugging him close. “I liked it too. We should get to do that. You should get to feel like that all the time.”

He nodded into your chest, and you knew he didn’t understand the full picture, but he understood enough. He was only five, but even five-year-olds can tell when something’s broken.

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When you awoke the next morning, Sebastian was still curled up next to you. His little hand rested against your arm, like he needed to make sure you hadn’t disappeared in the night.

You stared at the ceiling for a moment and barely breathed. You were part hoping and part waiting for the dull ache in your chest to settle. You let out a sigh when it didn’t. You rolled out of bed slowly, careful not to wake him, and crossed the room. You stood in front of the mirror above your dresser, staring at your reflection with a scowl.

Your eyes were puffy, your jaw clenched. You looked like someone who hadn’t cried but probably should have. You didn't let yourself cry anymore. Not about this kinda thing.

You hated everything. You hated the quiet. You hated that your mom never said anything. You hated how your father’s anger seemed never ending and always directed towards you. You hated how at just thirteen years old, you felt older than most adults. And most of all, you hated that none of it surprised you anymore.

You felt like screaming. But instead, you whispered, “I hate this house,” to your reflection. Then louder,  “I hate all of it.”

You turned and walked back to the bed, crawling in beside Sebastian as he stirred, eyes blinking open slowly, "Morning," he mumbled, still half-asleep.

“Morning,” you said, voice flat. You didn't have the energy to even bother with happiness this morning.

He looked up at you, rubbing his eyes. “Are we in trouble still?”

You paused. “No,” you said finally. “And yes.”

His small face scrunched in confusion but he didn’t ask what you meant. He didn’t have to. Even he was beginning to understand that in this house, you were always in trouble. Even when you did nothing wrong. He just curled into you again, and you wrapped your arm around him.

You didn’t go downstairs. Not for food. Not for water. You knew to stay away until your parents left. Sebastian played with his little race cars on the floor, trying to stay quiet.  You sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window all day. Your fists were clenched so tight your nails into your palms.

Every sound from the hallway made your muscles tense. Footsteps. The TV blaring like nothing had happened. You were pissed off and tired of it all. But you stayed in your room all day. Luckily it was a weekend so you had no school. 

That night, Sebastian asked if he could sleep in your bed again. You didn’t hesitate to say yes. You needed him just as much as he needed you. Your eyes burned. For just that night you decided to let go. You cried quietly into your pillow that night but you were careful not to let Sebastian hear. You’d already done enough to scare him. He had seen too much at his young age. You hated that.

Things didn't go back to somewhat normal until nearly three days later.You got home from school before your parents and turned the music up loud in your room. Loud enough that it shook the walls. Sebastian danced to it while you tried to focus on your homework. You didn't get very far. You had let yourself down and allowed yourself to feel good. And now you were having withdrawals from that feeling.

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You didn’t show up to practice the next day. You didn’t even bother to pretend you were sick. When your teammate texted you all concerned, you didn't bother to respond. You ignored your coach’s texts. You completely shut off your phone. At one point, you threw your cleats into the back of your closet like they’d betrayed you somehow. You didn’t care about the team. Didn’t even care about the game. You weren’t even sure you cared about anything anymore.

Being home was bad as usual. Sebastian started sleeping in your room every night. Your mother passed out on the couch every night. You haven't seen your dad in a few days either. There was no food in the fridge. There wasn't even light in the hallway. The bills were not being paid and you were pissed.

A few days after the incident, you had a game. Sebastian wasn’t going to the game. He didn’t ask and you didn’t offer. You didn’t want to see his face in the stands. You didn't want to give yourself the false hope that everything was alright when in reality it couldn't be further from it.

You showed up late to the field. Your team was nearly done with warmups. Your hair was tied in a messy knot, and your cleats were barely laced. Your coach gave you a look but didn’t say anything. He knew better when you were like this. Anyone could tell by your face not to mess with you today.

Mapi waved at you from across the field, a smile on her face. Ingrid stood beside her, excited. Next to them were three other women you couldn't quite recognize due to their sunglasses. You didn't care who they were.

As you stepped onto the field, you could feel it. That burning in your chest,  it was different now. It was something more than your usual anger. Something dangerous. 

You only had a couple minutes to warm up before you had to take your position on the field. The whistle blew in the distance, and you walked to the center circle with your fists clenched at your sides. You took off, ready to receive the long pass. When the defender on the other team kicked it out before you could reach it, you felt your anger rise.

The throw-in was aiming for you. You were already flying down the wing when the first hard tackle came. You didn’t hesitate. You spun out of it, shoved the defender off with your shoulder and kept going like she wasn’t even there. 

Mapi watched as you all but bulldozed through your opposition. It was clear what kind of game it was going to be. She leaned forward on the railing, eyes narrowed. “She’s intense today.”

Ingrid nodded, knowing what her partner meant. They both knew you would be lucky not to get thrown out.

Next to her was Alexia. After hearing Ingrid and Mapi all but boast about you for the last few weeks, she decided to see what the hype was about. Even in just the first few minutes it was clear. “No,” she said, gaze locked on you, “she’s brilliant.”

Mapi nodded towards her best friend, “Trust me, Ale. She is amazing. But when she is in this type of mood, she’s also reckless,” Mapi said, her voice tight. It wasnt spoken but it was implied about your aggression.

“That too,” Alexia admitted, a small frown tugging at her mouth. “But look at her. There is no denying her skill.” Just as she said it, you lunged into a tackle. It wasn't exactly malicious, but it was late. A second too late.

The ref’s whistle blared. You threw your arms up. “Are you freaking serious?!”

The ref didn’t hesitate. He pulled the yellow.

Your jaw clenched so hard your teeth ached. You turned away before you said anything worse, breathing sharp through your nose. You could feel all their eyes on you. Your coach stared at you as did your teammates and the crowd. You knew Mapi and Ingrid must be looking.

Mapi shook her head. “She’s gonna get herself sent off.”

“She’s already worked up,” Ingrid added softly from behind them. “She doesn’t know how to stop.”

Mapi decided to try to step in before it was too late, “Ciela. Cool it. Now.” Her voice was firm enough for you to know she wasn't joking but you were past the point of reasoning. You ignored her. 

Back on the field, you were seething. The next ten minutes passed in a blur of running and colliding and fouls barely avoided. The ref blew the whistle again. Of course it was another call against your team. It was against Maya, a sweet girl who wouldn't purposely hurt a fly, and something in you snapped. All the anger that was piled in you came out.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you shouted, storming toward the ref. “That’s a joke! Open your fucking eyes!”

The ref’s face tightened. The crowd gasped. Your coach was already yelling from the sideline.

“That’s enough!” he bellowed. “Get off!” The ref already was reaching to give you a second yellow.

You spun around. “What?! I didn’t even do anything! That’s bullshit!”

“You swore at the ref. Off. Now!” His voice was tight. He didn't normally yell at you but you pushed it to far.

You flipped the ref fully off before you stomped toward the bench. You were more pissed now than you were this morning

 “Unbelievable,” you muttered. “Kicking me out just because I’m not scared to call them out.”

“Sit down!” your coach snapped, pointing to the bench like you were a child.

You turned on him before you even realized it. “Don’t you talk to me like that! You have no fucking right.” You hadnt meant to swear at him. It all just came out before you could help it. 

“Then go home!” he shouted, red in the face. Oh yeah, you really pushed it too far.

If only you were able to calm yourself down. Unfortunately you couldn't. “Oh, I will!” you screamed, ripping your jersey off halfway. You didn't care who was watching. “This team’s a joke anyway!”

Mapi flinched as you tore into the coach. Ingrid sighed quietly beside her.

“She’s done,” Ingrid muttered, her hand twitching like she wanted to jump the railing.

“Oh yeah, she is,” Mapi said under her breath. Her voice wasn’t harsh but it was disappointed.  Like someone who’s seen a pattern repeat one too many times.

Behind them, Marta leaned forward slowly. Her mouth was slightly opened in disbelief. “She’s thirteen?” It was a question based off of the language flying out of your mouth.

“Yeah,” Caro said, brows furrowed, arms crossed tight over her chest. “She is really upset, huh?” It was a somewhat obvious question but fair nonetheless.

Alexia stared at you as you were consumed by your anger. You kicked a water bottle hard. It exploded, soaking a teammate’s bag. You didn’t even notice. Or care.

Mapi started down the bleachers. Ingrid followed. They were ready to get through to you no matter what it took. They had to calm you down.

The rest of the older women stayed back. They knew that their friends had managed to form a bond with you and knew that they needed some time with you.

“Does she even know we’re here?” Marta asked.

Alexia shook her head, “No. She never really looked at the stands.”

“She probably doesn’t think anyone would come,” Caro said. “Not for her.”

When Mapi and Ingrid finally reached you, you had moved away from the sideline and were sitting on the curb with your back to the field and your head in your hands. You didn’t hear their footsteps over your own ragged breathing.

“Hey,” Mapi said gently.

You startled, sitting up fast. “Jesus, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry,” she said quickly, holding her hands up. “Just wanted to check on you.”

You scoffed, rubbing your eyes with your palms. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Ingrid said, kneeling in front of you. “And it’s okay not to be.”

You didn’t answer. You stared at the concrete like it had insulted you. “You didn’t even notice who came today,” Mapi said after a beat, voice casual like it didn’t matter. As if you didn't just get kicked off and basically quit your team. 

You frowned. “Who?”

And then you heard the footsteps. Three sets.

You turned your head slowly and froze. Alexia Putellas. Marta Torrejon. Caroline Graham Hansen. They were walking toward you like some kind of surreal fever dream. And they weren’t looking at anyone else. They were looking at you.

Your breath hitched. You blinked, as if they might vanish.

Alexia was the first to speak. “Hi.”

You stood slowly, still unsure if this was a prank. Your voice cracked when you finally managed to ask, “What are you… doing here?”

“We came to see you play,” Marta said, her voice warm but direct.

Your eyes widened. “Why?”

“Because you’re good,” Caro said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “And because Mapi and Ingrid wouldn’t shut up about you.”

You looked at Mapi, stunned. She shrugged, trying not to smile. “They needed to see what we’ve seen.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks. You wanted to shrink into the ground. 

Alexia stepped closer, her expression serious. “You’re a storm out there.”

You looked at her, heart pounding. “I’m not a storm.”

“You are,” she said. “But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. You just need help learning how to control it. You are a very good player.”

You swallowed hard, eyes falling to the ground. “I don’t know how.”

“You don’t have to know yet,” Marta said gently. 

The words hit something deep. You felt embarrassed about your behavior. You were still holding your ripped jersey in one hand, your knuckles white around the fabric.

“I didn’t even know you were here,” you murmured. “If I did… I would’ve played better.”

“You played like your life depended on it,” Alexia said. “And that told us more than a perfect game ever could.”

Silence settled for a moment. Then Caro asked, “Can we buy you ice cream or something?”

You blinked. Mapi grinned. “Told you they’d like you.”

You hesitated. The word yes was right there. Sitting on the tip of your tongue, warm like sunlight. But it didn’t make it out. Something else did. “No.”

All their faces shifted. Alexia’s brow furrowed, Caro looked confused, and Marta tilted her head like she wanted to ask why. You cleared your throat, shoving the jersey into your bag. “I… can’t. I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Ingrid asked gently.

You looked at the ground, then up at Mapi. You didn’t say it loud, but she heard you. “It pissed off my dad last time.”

Everything got still. Alexia opened her mouth, but Mapi stepped forward first.” Okay,” she said calmly. “No ice cream.”

You shouldered your bag. “I should go.” You turned to leave, your heart was in your throat but a hand gently caught your sleeve. Mapi.

“Wait,” she said softly. “Just… walk with me?”

You hesitated. Your body said no. But your heart was too tired to argue. “…Fine.”

She didn’t ask more. Just started walking. You followed. It was quiet for a while. You shoved your hands in your hoodie pockets, shoulders hunched, kicking at rocks. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” you muttered finally.

Mapi glanced sideways at you. “See what?”

You looked at her like she was joking. “Me. Losing it.”

She smiled, not unkind. “You act like we haven’t seen it before. We’ve seen worse.”

You didn’t smile at her attempt to make light of the situation. “They haven’t.” And you knew she could tell what you meant. 

“No,” Mapi said. “But they still wanted to talk to you after. That’s something, isn’t it?”

You didn’t answer. You just kept walking. After a while, she spoke again. “You’re not wrong to be angry.”

You stopped. “Then why does everyone act like I am?”

“Because anger’s loud,” she said. “And when people don’t want to deal with what’s under it, they act like you’re the problem. But you’re not.”

You stared at the sidewalk, teeth clenched. “It’s just easier to be mad than scared.”

“I know,” she said. “I used to feel like that too.”

You glanced over at her, surprised. “You?”

“Yeah,” Mapi nodded. “I had people who made me feel small too. Who didn’t listen. Who thought yelling was power.” She paused to let her words sink in. You didn’t know what to say. So you stayed quiet.  She kept her pace slow. “But eventually, I had someone who told me I didn’t have to stay small.”

You looked at her, really looked this time. “You’re trying to be that for me,” you said quietly.

“Trying,” she nodded. “You don’t have to let me. But I’ll be here anyway.”

Something cracked open in your chest at that. You didn’t cry. But your eyes stung. You walked a little closer to her after that. Still quiet, but not so angry. Not so alone.

After a minute, Mapi nudged your arm gently. “I’ll walk you home. But only if you promise not to throw anything at your coach next game.”

You snorted despite yourself. “No promises. He can be a dick sometimes.”

She laughed. “Fair enough.”

As you turned the corner together, you felt the weight on your shoulders shift a bit. It wasn’t gone, but it did seem a bit lighter. Not fixed, but also maybe not unfixable.

Mapi’s footsteps slowed as you both turned onto your street. You had gotten quieter and quieter the closer you got to your house. She noticed. “You okay?” she asked softly.

You didn’t answer. You just stared ahead at the chipped paint on your front door, your jaw locked tight. As you reached the steps, you paused. “You don’t have to come in.”

Mapi tilted her head. “I’m not letting you walk in there alone.”

You swallowed hard but said nothing, unlocking the door with trembling fingers. You barely got it open before the shouting started.

“Where the hell have you been?” your father’s voice exploded from inside.

Mapi flinched.

You stood stiffly in the doorway, trying to shield her from it. “I was at my game.”

“You didn’t say you were staying after!” he barked, storming into view. His face was red, and you could smell the beer on his breath from the porch.

“I didn’t know they were-” You tried to get your explanation out. 

“Don’t talk back to me!” he snapped, pointing a finger right in your face.

And then his eyes locked on Mapi behind you. “And who the hell is this?”

Mapi stepped forward calmly, but her voice was sharp as glass. “I’m her coach. Don’t talk to her like that.”

You blinked. That was a lie. But Mapi didn’t care. She was too focused on your father. 

Your dad laughed bitterly. “Coach? And you think that means anything to me? She lives in my house. I’ll say what I want.”

Mapi didn’t flinch. “Not tonight you won’t.”

“What did you just say?” he stepped closer, voice low now. Dangerous.

You stepped between them. “Stop. Please just stop!” You were begging Mapi not your dad.

He grabbed your arm, harder than necessary. Then Mapi’s voice cracked through the air. “Let her go. Right now.”

Your father looked at her, eyes wild. “You don’t tell me what to do in my house!”

“Watch me,” she growled.

He tightened his grip, but Mapi was already moving. She got between you both, shoving his hand off you.

“Touch her again and I’m calling the police,” she said coldly.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re bluffing.”

She pulled her phone from her pocket, no hesitation. “Try me.”

For a long, horrible second, no one moved. Then he scoffed, waving her off. “Go on then. Take her. One less mouth to feed.”

Mapi turned to you. Her voice was gentler now, but firm. “Go upstairs. Pack a bag for you and Sebastian. Only what you need.”

You stared at her. “I can’t just-”

“Yes, you can,” she said. “You are not staying here tonight. I’m not asking.”

Tears stung your eyes but you nodded. As you ran upstairs, heart pounding, you heard her turn back to your father.

“You should be ashamed,” she said, her voice shaking now with rage. “She’s thirteen. And she’s more of a parent than you’ll ever be.” He didn’t answer.

You came down the stairs with your backpack slung over one shoulder, face flushed and eyes stinging, but you didn’t let the tears fall. Mapi was already holding the door open.

“Where’s Seb?” she asked quietly.

Your voice was tight. “Next door. Mrs. Vega watched him while I was at the game.”

Mapi nodded. “Okay. Let’s go get him.”

You stepped outside together, the night air sharp against your face. The walk next door was only a few feet, but it felt like a hundred. Your dad hadn’t followed you out. He just slammed the door behind you like he was glad to be rid of you.

You knocked on the Vega’s door with your knuckles, barely audible, and after a moment, the porch light flicked on.

Mrs. Vega answered, frowning. “Sweetheart? It’s late. Everything okay?”

You tried to nod, but Mapi gently stepped in.

“Hi, I’m her coach,” she said, just like before. “Sorry for the late visit. We just came to pick up Sebastian.”

Mrs. Vega glanced between you both, her frown deepening, but she didn’t ask questions. “Of course. He’s in the living room watching a movie.”

She let you in, and there he was curled up on the couch with a blanket and a bowl of popcorn, eyes glued to the screen.

“Seb,” you said gently.

He turned, and when he saw you, his face lit up. “Hey! You’re back! Did you win?”

You didn’t answer. Just walked over and helped him sit up.

He spotted Mapi and gasped like she was a celebrity. “MAPIIII!”

Mapi grinned. “Hey, buddy.”

Sebastian scrambled off the couch and ran over, throwing his arms around her legs. “Are you coming to play FIFA with me?”

“Not tonight,” she said softly, crouching down. “But we’re gonna go on a little sleepover. You and your sister, okay?”

He pulled back, confused. “Why? What about Dad?”

You didn’t say anything. Mapi touched his shoulder gently. “It’s just for tonight. We’ll have snacks and movies at my place. Sound good?”

He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Will there be popcorn?”

Mapi chuckled. “I think we can find some.”

You turned to Mrs. Vega. “Thank you for watching him.”

Mrs. Vega’s eyes were kind but worried. “Of course, honey. Anytime. You two take care, alright?”

You just nodded. As you walked back toward the street, Sebastian swinging your hand, Mapi pulled out her phone and quietly dialed.

“Ingrid?” she said. “Can you come get us? Now, yeah. No, we’re not staying here.” A pause. “Yeah. I’ll explain everything later.” Then she hung up and looked at you. “We’re not going back there,” she said gently but firmly, grabbing your hand that didn’t hold Sebastian’s. “Ever again if I can help it.”

You didn’t say a word. But your hand tightened around hers. Ingrid pulled up in her dark gray Cupra just as you and Mapi rounded the corner with Sebastian. She parked and jumped out before the engine had even cooled.

“Hey,” she said, eyes flicking to your face first, then to Mapi’s. She could tell everything about the moment was tense.

Sebastian, however, had no idea. He let go of your hand and ran toward her with a huge grin. “Ingrid! You have a fast car!”

She crouched down to his level and laughed, ruffling his hair. “You bet I do. You like fast cars?”

“Yeah! Can we go really fast?”

You forced a shaky smile as Mapi opened the back door and helped Seb buckle in. You slid into the front seat, barely able to meet Ingrid’s eyes. Your stomach felt like it was caving in on itself.

Ingrid glanced at you as she started the car. “You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” Your voice was hoarse. “Fine.” No one believed it, but no one pushed. Mapi turned around from the back seat. “He didn’t touch me,” you said quickly, just in case she was worried. “Not really.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Mapi said quietly.

The drive was mostly quiet, aside from Sebastian’s constant stream of excited chatter from the backseat about how cool Ingrid’s car was, about his movie, about how he thought it was funny you were having a sleepover on a school night.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even look out the window properly. The streets of your neighborhood blurred together and your fingers dug into your hoodie sleeves. You didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not when you were safe. It didn’t make sense. But the safety felt weird and foreign. It was much too quiet. Much too calm.

When they finally pulled up to Ingrid and Mapi’s flat, Sebastian hopped out like he owned the place. “Do you have snacks?” he asked Ingrid as she unlocked the door. “What about cartoons?”

Mapi laughed under her breath. “We’ve created a monster.”

You followed them in, standing awkwardly by the doorway while they turned on a lamp and kicked off their shoes. It was cozy. Warm light and a soft couch were the first thing you noticed. Nothing like home.

Mapi walked back to you and put a hand on your shoulder.

“You can breathe here,” she said softly. “You’re safe.”

That was the moment your chest finally cracked open. But still, you didn’t cry. You just nodded and whispered, “Okay.” And you started to believe that maybe you really would be.

[couva0911]

hurricanes: part 2 (losing it)

Summary: One bad turns into a bad game and suddenly you start to lose control.

It was the night before the tournament. You didn’t sleep. Not really. At least. 

Your dad had come home late. When he entered the house, he was loud, muttering, the smell of cheap beer basically dripping off of him. Your mom had barely moved from the couch, her eyes glassy, fingers trembling over a half-lit cigarette. Like always, they started to fight. They fought over nothing. Then something. Then over everything.

You sat on your bed, headphones on but no music playing. Just trying to block it out. Just trying to pretend this wasn’t your life. Sebastian ended up in your room. He tended to on nights like this. So you had to take off your headphones and give them to your little brother. You actually turned on the music for him. By the time he was asleep, it was late. Like really late. Your parents didn't stop yelling until the sun started to come up.

But the anger had started then. Low in your stomach like rot. By morning, it was like fire. You knew you wouldn't be able to contain it. It was ready to overflow.

You showed up to the pitch already on edge. Jaw tight. Fists clenched. Coach said something during warm-ups, he could tell the type of mood you were in. You got like this sometimes. Everyone on your team knew to stay clear and your coach knew you would be lucky not to get carded. You were used to him giving you warnings but it was different today.

He stepped forward when you were in the front of the line. His hand found your shoulder and he firmly told you, “Listen, I need you focused today, not showing off or getting in a fight.”

You turned away so he wouldn’t see your eyes roll. So he wouldn’t see the middle finger you almost gave him. You wanted to shout at him. To yell about how he didn't understand anything. But you didn't. Instead you just completed the warm ups. 

By the time the whistle blew, you knew you should have stayed in bed. The game was messy. Your team was sluggish. The passes missed and shots were completely off target. No one was even trying to press. And you? You were reckless. You were playing with fire but in a dangerous way. It started small. There was a slide that took more of the player than the ball. Then it seemed to grow.When fighting for the ball, you  elbowed someone in the ribs during a sprint. 

That got the whistle to blow. The ref warned you. Coach shouted your name. But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. Everything felt like it was burning under your skin. You needed to hit something. You needed to win. Even if it meant hurting someone else. You hated that about yourself.

You didn't see Mapi and Ingrid in the crowd. They both had made it today. They wanted to watch you win your tourney. But instead they were watching as you fell apart. They saw how your anger was pouring out into all of your moves. It seemed like you weren't even attempting to play football. Every tackle was harsh, your shots skied the goal every time.

And then came the yellow. It was a deserved yellow but it still pissed you off. It was a stupid, late tackle but you also knew it probably was more of how many fouls you had already. The ref’s whistle rang in your ears. 

You didn’t even look at the ref. Just turned to Coach, who was already stalking the sidelines, shaking his head. You could tell he was disappointed. You just didn't care. “You need to relax.” He all but shouted.

Too bad you weren't in the mood to hear it. “Oh, you have something to say?” you snapped at him.

Your question obviously upset him. “Watch your tone,” he barked.

You let out a scoff and threw your arms up, “No, how about you watch the team. Maybe we wouldn’t be losing if you actually coached instead of just standing there like a traffic cone. Everyone sucks today and you're not doing shit about it.”

You heard gasps from the bench. Your teammates were staring. The parents on the sidelines seemed surprised but not shocked at you snapping. It happened often enough where they knew that you were mad. Mapi froze at your harsh words and Ingrid stood up. Neither of them had ever heard you be so rude. 

Coach’s face went red. “Get off the field. I’m subbing you out.”

“Fine,” you spat, ripping off your shin pads in anger. You turned towards the bench and threw them at it. “Good luck winning without me.”   You stormed off. Shoulders heaving. You really should have stayed in bed today. 

As you continued storming off of the field, you were shocked by a hand grabbing your arm. You turned your body, ready to scream at your coach. But it wasn't him. It was Mapi’s tattooed arm on your shoulder. She was holding firm with her eyes filled with concern. 

“Let go of me,” you snapped, trying to shake Mapi’s hand off. But she didn’t let go.

“Hey, calm down. You’re gonna make it worse,” Mapi said, her voice low but steady.

Maybe if it was another day, you would be more sensible. You would realize how two of Barcelona’s best players were standing in front of you and you were yelling at them. You were basically snapping at two of your favorite players. But today was already awful so you just continued your rampage. 

“I said let go,” you hissed, ripping your arm away and backing up a step. Ingrid had come up behind her now, hovering, looking between the two of you like she wasn’t sure what to say. 

“Hey, we just want to talk to you.”  Ingrid started gently, but that only made something in your chest snap.

“Oh, you want to talk?” Your voice was rising now, your hands flailing a little, teeth clenched behind every word. “What the hell do you want to talk about, huh? How I ruined the game? How I embarrassed myself? I already know all this.” You knew you looked like a toddler who was tantruming but you found that you couldn't stop. 

“No one said that, ” Mapi tried, but you cut her off.

“You don’t know me!” you exploded. “You show up to a couple games, clap from the sidelines, maybe bring some snacks or whatever and now suddenly you think you know me? Who are you to try to talk to me?”

Mapi flinched like the words stung, but she didn’t back off. Ingrid looked like she might cry, but she was still standing beside her. You felt as if you slapped them. You really should have stayed in bed.

“We want to know you,” Ingrid said quietly. “We really do.”

You laughed, but it wasn’t amused. It was tired. “Yeah? You want to know me? Why? I don't matter to you.” The words were too loud, too raw. You weren't supposed to crack like this. 

Neither of the women said anything. 

“You want to know me?” you said again, voice hoarse now. “Then stop pretending like this is easy. Stop pretending like cheering from the sidelines means something. It doesn't. You don't have to cheer.”

And then you turned away before they could say anything. Your jaw clenched. You didn’t cry. But god, you wanted to.

As you started to walk away, Mapi spoke, “If we don't cheer for you, who will?”

You froze. Your heart plummeted a bit at the question. “I don't need anyone. Not even you guys.” And with that you stormed down the street, still in your uniform. You felt as if your chest became heavier and your breathing was harder. Your boots thudded against the pavement. You didn’t look back. Couldn’t. If you did, you were afraid you might break.

You kept walking. Away from it all. You walked away from your coach, still shouting from somewhere behind you. You walked away from the two women who claimed they wanted to know you. 

You didn't go straight home. There was nothing waiting for you there. Sebastian was at a neighbor's house and you didn't want to face your parents tonight. So instead, you just wandered the streets of Barcelona. The noise of the world dulled under the roar of your own thoughts. You shoved your hands into your pockets. It was getting colder as the sun started to set. You were just in your jersey and shorts, shin guards forgotten somewhere back by the bench.

“If we don't cheer for you, who will?” Mapi’s words followed you. It was a stupid question in your mind. Or maybe it wasn’t. 

But it was too late. You’d already stormed off. You’d already said you didn’t need them. You didn’t need anyone.

Your jaw stayed clenched. Your breathing stayed shallow. But your eyes? They stayed dry. You didn’t cry. You wouldn't allow yourself to cry. You just kept walking, streetlight shadows stretching out behind you, long and lonely. Right now, all you had was the sound of your footsteps and the silence that followed you.

And that was how it always went.

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

You didn’t sleep that night. And by that you literally did not sleep. Everytime you even attempted to close your eyes, you would see Mapi and Ingrid staring at you. With the concern and disappointment that their eyes held. The words kept circling, over and over, like some cruel loop you couldn’t shut off. If we don’t cheer for you, who will?

You could still feel Mapi’s grip on your arm. What stood out to you was the steadiness of it. How she didn’t flinch when you snapped. And all you could think about was the look on her face on Ingrid's face. Like she wanted to wrap you in a blanket and keep you safe. Her eyes held so much comfort and pity for you and you were awful towards her. You didn't deserve them. You weren't even sure why they cared or why you cared that they cared.

All you knew was that no one had ever stayed before. Not like that. Not when you said the ugliest things. Not when your walls went up. And definitely not when you were most unlovable. And that's just who you were. You were rude, stubborn, and unlovable. Even your parents had told you so.

But they stayed. And somehow, that made everything worse. Because now you wanted them to stay. And you knew it would break your heart when they didn't. If they left now, you knew you would feel it. You knew it would kill you. You just didn't know why.

That's all that you could think about as you made your way to your practice the next day. As you forced your legs down the road to the training pitch, you couldn't stop thinking about how everything around you felt like it was changing. You felt light around Mapi and Ingrid. More kid-like in a way. And you liked it. You felt more comfortable with them than you ever had with your own parents. 

You showed up late to the field. Not really on purpose but you stood outside the fence for a few minutes just trying to breathe, trying to calm yourself down. The whole walk there, your thoughts spun. You hated that you couldn’t shake them. You hated how your thoughts always seemed to push you over the edge.

When you finally did step onto the pitch, the sun felt too bright. The noises happening all around seemed much too loud. The cleats scraping against turf and laughter echoing from the sidelines. It was overwhelming for you. The moment you appeared, the tone shifted. People noticed. Eyes found you and then there were whispers. A few nods, some awkward glances. You knew that they were all thinking about your blow up. It was probably hard not to. 

And then Coach saw you. He blew his whistle and gestured you over. You approached, arms crossed, jaw clenched. You didn't want to fight anymore. You were so tired of fighting everyone. But it was just the way life was. 

He looked you up and down, seemingly taking in your attitude. “You okay?” he asked quietly, once you were close enough.

That almost made it worse. Here you were ready to fight and he was being kind to you. He was worried. You blinked, caught off guard. “What?” Your arms uncrossed instinctively. 

“I said, are you okay?” he repeated, more carefully this time. “Because I know things got heated last game. I don’t want this team to feel like a chore for you. That's not fair.” He sounded genuine. Like he really did want to help you. But that seemed to piss you off for some reason.

You were stunned. You’d expected shouting. Maybe some form of punishment. Not calmness. Sure, you constantly got carded and sometimes kicked off but even you knew you pushed it too far yesterday. But instead of letting it in and appreciating his words, that same old heat sparked in your chest. The one you carried everywhere now. The one that ignited when you felt like someone was looking down on you. You couldn't stand it. You weren't some pity case. “Don’t do that,” you snapped.

His brow furrowed. “Do what?”

You scoffed at his confusion, “Act like you care.” You wanted to stop before you went to far but you couldn't. This is who you were.

“I do care,” he said, gentle again. “Look, I know you’re carrying a lot. I’m not here to make that worse.”

“You already do,” you hissed before you could stop yourself.  His mouth opened, but you didn’t give him the chance. “You don’t know me,” you growled. “I am not the reason we lost the game.”

“I never said that,” Coach said, more firmly now, but still composed.

Your arms cross over your chest again, keeping yourself guarded. “No,” you barked. “But you didn’t have to.” You could feel everyone watching now. But the anger had taken hold. It had rooted deep, and you couldn’t pull it out even if you wanted to. “I’m not your pity case,” you said, voice raw. “So don’t pretend now that you give a damn.”

Coach looked at you, really looked. He didn’t snap, he didn’t even shout like you wanted. Just nodded once, quiet. “Okay,” he said. “Then let’s not pretend. You’re here because you want to be. Not because I made you. So if you’re going to train, train. If you’re not, just walk away.” He wasn't saying it to be patronizing. He was just laying out your options for you. 

That silence that followed was louder than any whistle. And for one long second, you almost walked away. You thought about how you could. You could run away and never play football again. But football was all you had right now. Nothing else was consistent. You knew you had to stay.

You turned, teeth clenched so tight your jaw ached, and jogged toward the team. Your shoulders were stiff and your hands clenched into fists. You didn’t know what the hell you were doing. You just knew you were still mad. Still broken.

After practice, your limbs were heavy and your mind heavier. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone. Just peeled off your cleats, stuffed your gear into your bag, and left. The walk home was quieter than the one there. There seemd to be less noise in your ears, but not in your head.

Sebastian was already waiting at the door  when you got to Marcela’s, practically bouncing in place. The moment he saw you, he pushed through the screen and ran to grab onto you, “Can we go to the park? Please? You promised.” His eyes were forming large pleading begs.

You wanted to say no. You wanted to crawl into bed and disappear into your pillow. But one look at him and you felt your chest soften. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Go grab your shoes.”

The park wasn’t far. It was still warm enough for kids to be out, scattered across the grass like fallen leaves. You sat on the edge of a bench while Sebastian ran full speed towards the swings, kicking his legs out like he was trying to touch the clouds.

You watched him for a while, letting your heart slow. You were letting the world fade. Until you heard a voice behind you. “Hey, kid.” You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Mapi. You were used to her voice by now. You turned your head slightly to the side and saw that her and Ingrid were both now sitting next to you on the bench. 

You felt everything inside you tense. You looked down at the ground, unsure of what to say. Shame rising like a wave in your chest.

Ingrid shot you a small smile, “We weren't expecting to see you here.” 

You exhaled, sharp and bitter. “Yeah.” You wanted to say more but you found it impossible to form the right words. Mapi just stared, her eyes looking straight through you. 

“The game was rough yesterday,” Ingrid said gently.

You shrugged. “Everything’s rough lately.” There was a beat of silence. Just the sound of children playing, the breeze in the trees, and the creak of the swings. Sebastian was kicking his legs without a care in the world. “I’m sorry,” you said suddenly. The words came out harsher than you intended, your voice catching. “For the other day.” You stopped, frustrated. “I was an asshole to you guys.”

The women flinched slightly at the language that left your mouth. They were clearly uncomfortable at hearing you swear when you were young. They recovered quickly and Mapi let out a little laugh through her nose. “Yeah. You were.” You flinched, but she nudged your shoulder with hers. “I'm joking. It's all good.”

You were a bit surprised by how easily you were forgiven. You tried not to show your relief but you felt your body lose some of its tenseness. 

“You don’t get to scare us off that easily,” Ingrid said, finally sitting down beside you. Her hand brushed against your arm.  

You stared at her, then at Mapi. Was that what you were doing? Trying to get them to leave? It didn't make sense to you really. Sure, you were independent but normally people chose to leave on their own accord. Either that or you would run. You didn't normally push. And for once, you didn’t feel like running or pushing any more.

Sebastian’s laugh rang out across the grass. He was trying to push himself higher on the swing, tiny legs kicking wildly. You felt something loosen in your chest at the sound. You couldn't stop watching him. 

“He’s cute,” Ingrid said, nodding toward him. “Your brother?”

You nodded. “Yeah. That’s Sebastian.”

“Looks like you,” Mapi said. 

That made your throat tighten. You looked away, blinking fast. You nodded. “Yeah, same freckles and everything.” The two women let out a soft laugh. You all sat in relaxed silence for a moment.

Then Sebastian spotted you on the bench and came running.. He barreled into your legs with no warning, arms wrapping tightly around your knees.

“Hey, buddy,” you murmured, your voice softer than either Mapi or Ingrid had heard it before. Mapi blinked in surprise. Ingrid smiled, watching the way you instinctively dropped your hand to ruffle his hair.

“Who are they?” Sebastian asked, peeking up at the two women with wide, curious eyes. You were surprised his shyness didn’t kick in, but then again he was five. Curiosity usually won.

You cleared your throat. “Uh, this is Mapi… and that’s Ingrid.” You took a moment, a bit nervous about them meeting. “They play football, Seb.” You knew that would pique his interests.

Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “Real football players?” He turned to Mapi, eyes practically sparkling. “Like, really real?”

Mapi chuckled, leaning down to his level. “The realest.”

Ingrid sat down on the grass next to Sebastian. “Do you play football too?”

He nodded proudly. “My sister teaches me. She says I’m gonna be better than her.” He beamed.

But the happiness didn’t last long. As the sun began to set, you glanced at your phone and stood up, brushing grass off your pants. “Alright, Seb. Time to go.”

“Noooo,” he whined immediately, “Just five more minutes!”

“Sebastian…” you warned gently. You could already see the start to a tantrum and you were really not in the mood to deal with it today. 

He didn't stop though. “But I don’t want to go! We just got here! And they’re cool!” he argued, pointing dramatically at Mapi and Ingrid, who both looked like they were trying very hard not to laugh.

You knelt beside him and rested a hand on his small back, smoothing his shirt. “Hey, look at me.” He sniffled, bottom lip jutting out in defiance. “I get it, okay? I didn’t want to go to practice today either. But sometimes we gotta do stuff even when we don’t want to.”

He crossed his arms and thought for a second. “Like school?”

You knew how much he hated school. “Exactly like school,” you said with a half-smile. “But guess what? If you're good, maybe you can come watch my next game. I'm sure one of the parents will let you sit with them.”

His eyes went wide again, tantrum forgotten in an instant. “For real?” You nodded in confirmation. He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. “Okay, let's go.”

Mapi let out a laugh at the mood switch. Then her eyes sparked as if she realized something. “Hey, he can sit with us at the game.”

You froze for a minute. You weren't expecting them to offer that. “Really?”

Ingrid nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we can watch him. We’ll bring a blanket.” 

You were going to disagree. Sebastian could be a handful and it wasn’t fair for them to have to manage him. But before you could protest, Seb’s hand gripped you tighter. “Please, CiCi. Please, can I? I’ll be good, I promise.”

You thought about it before realizing it was the best option. “Alright, if that's okay. But you gotta be good for them, Bash. You get me?”

He nodded eagerly, “I will, CiCi. I promise.” He stuck his little fingers out and you interlocked them before you both kissed your hands. 

Ingrid raised an eyebrow at the name. “Cici?” She knew your real name and knew that wasn't close to it.

You gave a half-shrug, smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “It’s short for Ciela. My grandma used to call me that.” You felt your eyes get a bit cloudy at the mention of your grandmother.

Mapi tilted her head. “Ciela… like cielo? Sky?” 

You nodded. “Yeah. She said I was like the sky on a thunderous day. She said I was like a hurricane. That I was loud, messy, and my emotions were full of storms.” There was a pause. The kind that sits soft between people who are beginning to understand each other. “Cici stuck for Seb even after she died,” you said simply.

The two women exchanged a look before nodding at the information. Mapi smiled and tested out the new nickname. “Alright right then, CiCi.” She paused to see if you objected but to everyone’s surprise you let out a small smile. She took that as a sign to continue, “We’ll see you at the game?”

You nodded. As you stood from the bench, you gripped Sebastian’s hand a little tighter. And for the first time in a long time, the walk home didn’t feel so heavy. Not with Sebastian swinging your arm and Mapi and Ingrid waving goodbye like they meant it. And not with the thought that, maybe, just maybe, someone would be cheering for you after all. That idea scared you just as much as it soothed you.

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

You didn't see Mapi and Ingrid again until the day of your next game. It wasn't for lack of trying. Everyday you and Sebastian headed to the park. You kept claiming it was because he had a good day at school or so that you could practice new tricks but you knew the truth. You were hoping, maybe even praying, to run into the two women at the park. 

You weren't quite sure when you became this person that sought out other people. You also were not sure if you liked it. All you were sure about is that for whatever reason, it seemed as if Mapi and Ingrid really cared about you. And you were going to cling onto that until you couldn't anymore.

On the day of the game, you woke up excited. You were usually pretty happy to get to play but it was different today for whatever reason. Not better exactly but it was definitely lighter. For once, you didn’t want to hide under your covers and disappear. 

Instead, you woke up and immediately pulled your jersey on before going to Seb’s room. Walking in, you sat on his bed and brushed his wild hair from his face. “Bash,” you whispered and you watched him curl into your hand. “It's time to wake up! It's Saturday and I have my game soon.” You knew this would get him up quick. Normally your games fell on Friday nights but today it was a Saturday morning. Not too early but early enough for Sebastian to actually come. 

The two of you went about your morning routine before you grabbed your cleats and threw them into your beat-up backpack. Your parents were nowhere to be found and you couldn't help but feel grateful

You walked down the street towards the pitch with Sebastian gripping your hand. You were vowing to yourself to make this game special. You were going to keep your cool and make your little brother proud. In your mind, if Mapi and Ingrid were going to show up and if Sebastian was going to be there then you were going to give them something to cheer for. You had to prove to them and yourself that you were worth something.

By the time you got to the pitch, the nerves were buzzing under your skin. You spotted Mapi and Ingrid almost immediately, sitting high in the bleachers with a blanket spread across their laps. They normally stood by the fence but not today. 

When they saw you guys, they both smiled widely and waved. You felt a bit better at seeing how happy they seemed. You were worried that they would feel like watching Sebastian was a burden but they seemed happy enough to do so. 

You led Seb over to the bleachers and held his hand as he climbed up. He immediately went in between the two women and chattered away about how excited he was to see you play. You felt tense watching him sit so comfortably as if he knew the two women his whole life. As if they were family. 

You didn't want to draw attention to your tenseness so you turned away to walk down the bleachers and join your team. You were stopped with a hand on your arm. Immediately, you had a flashback to the other day when Mapi grabbed you. Her hand felt the same this time. Firm but caring. You turned around to face her. 

"You good?" Mapi asked, trying hard to look you in the eye. You didn't want her to see how grateful you were right now.

You thought about your response for a moment before you gave a stiff nod. "Yeah. Just...thanks. I mean for watching him." You wanted to add everything else you were thankful for but you didn't. 

Mapi just smiled and nodded. "Don't mention it," Ingrid said, already reaching down to ruffle Sebastian’s hair. He grinned, clinging to her side like he belonged there.

"We've got the best seats, Cici!" Sebastian announced, clearly enjoying all the attention he was getting from the Norwegian. 

You chuckled under your breath, ruffling his hair. "Behave, okay?"

He sent a cheeky smile before he nodded solemnly. "Promise."

You turned before you could second guess leaving him and ran down to where your team was warming up. You breathed in through your nose and jogged onto the field, heart hammering.

Warmups blurred past. The coach gave you a nod and you tried not to look as happy as you felt. You forced yourself to focus. 

And when the whistle blew, something familiar clicked inside you. It was like every bit of anger, every broken piece, every ugly word you’d ever carried you was inside you. But instead of turning the anger and hurt into aggression, you turned it into the game. You sprinted harder and passed sharper. You moved like you were lighter, like nothing could weigh you down anymore. You felt good hearing Sebastian yell and Mapi clap. It felt normal for once. You weren't thinking about your parents or your house. You were totally focused on the game and the people who actually showed up.

It was halfway through the match, when you decided to try your luck. You took a risky shot from outside the box. You don't fully know why you decided to shoot but it just felt right. You held your breath as soon as the ball left your feet. Your eyes tracked it and you watched as it curled perfectly into the upper corner of the net. 

For a second, everything froze. You didn’t celebrate right away. You turned, stunned, mouth falling open. Your teammates were screaming and running toward you, but it was Sebastian's voice that cut through it all. 

“Whoooo.” He was yelling loud and wild, “That's my sister! That's my CiCi!” You whipped your head up to the stands and there he was standing on the bench.  Mapi and Ingrid were laughing, clapping so hard you thought they might break their hands. You saw Ingrid’s hand protectively on Seb’s back. It was clear she was not letting him fall. 

Your heart felt a twinge. Your throat burned as your teammates mobbed you, slapping your back. Sure, you scored often. But this one? This one was a banger. Your teammates were delighted with it. For the first time in maybe forever, you didn't feel like you were fighting alone. The rest of the game blurred by but you didn’t slow down. You didn’t shrink.You played like you were meant to be there. Like it was your home.

After the final whistle blew, you barely made it off the field before Sebastian charged at you, launching into your arms.

You grabbed under his legs and pulled him up into a koala-like hug. His arms found your neck. “You were the best one!” he declared, squeezing your neck so hard it almost hurt.

You laughed, breathless, holding him tight. Mapi and Ingrid came up a few seconds later, beaming like proud parents. 

"You played like a beast," Mapi said, grinning ear to ear.

Ingrid ruffled your hair gently. “We told you we'd cheer for you, didn’t we?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you just nodded, still holding Sebastian. He smiled so brightly and just hugged you tighter. “And we did! Didya hear us? We were extra extra loud!” Sebastian turned his wide, happy eyes up at Mapi and Ingrid and said, “Tell her how loud we cheered. Tell her!”

Ingrid chuckled at his insistence and nodded enthusiastically, “We cheered really loudly.”

Your smile grew. Sebastian still continued to boast, “Yeah, we were the best cheerer people in the whole crowd. We were so loud I bet Mami and Papi could hear us all the way from home.”

You felt your body immediately tense up at the mention of your parents. You also saw Mapi and Ingrid look on curiously as if they had a million questions. 

Mapi, being the more blunt one, decided to ask her question, “I thought they were working?”

You went to agree with her. You were used to lying about your parents and you usually knew just what to say. But before you could, Sebastian decided to answer. “No, they aren't working.” His voice was still light as if he didn't realize how sensitive this topic was, “They just didn't come a'cause they don’t really care. And mami drank her juice that gives her a headache so she cant get off the couch. But it’s okay! A’cause I care. And now you guys care too, right? We are CiCi’s cheerer!s”

Your heart dropped at hearing Sebatsian talk so casually about your parents. Before you could react, Mapi reached over to you and Sebastain and placed her hand on his arm. Her expression softened in a way you had never seen before. “Right,” she said firmly. “We care a lot.”

Ingrid leaned over too, tucking Sebastian’s messy hair behind his ear. “The three of us are CiCi’s best cheerers. And we will always be. You hear me, buddy?” Sebastian beamed like he’d just won a prize. He looked up at you proudly, as if he had just given you the best gift in the world.

You felt something inside you give way. You wanted to cry but you weren't sure if it was because you were happy or sad. You swallowed hard and whispered, “Thanks, Bash.” Then you looked at Mapi and Ingrid, your voice barely more than a croak. “Thanks for…being here.”

They didn’t make a big deal about it. They didn’t hug you or get all sappy like you feared they would. They just smiled at you like they weren’t going anywhere. You tugged Sebastian closer and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to carry the whole world alone.

Before you could get deeper in your thoughts, Mapi put her arm around your shoulder. “Wanna go get some ice cream? I know a place.”

Sebastian pushed himself down from you and grabbed your hand. “We never get ice cream. Mami says it’s a waste of money.” He swung his legs back and forth. “And Papi says we don't deserve any treats because we are bad.’” He said it so matter-of-factly, not even looking at you.

Mapi and Ingrid both looked at you sharply. You cleared your throat, quickly forcing a smile, hoping to brush it off. "It’s not like that," you said hurriedly, waving your hands. "They’re just…strict. It’s fine." They were anything but strict. Strict would require that they actually cared about your life.

Sebastian blinked up at you, confused. "They aren't strict, CiCi. They don't even tell us when to go to bed or anything like that.” And he was right. 

Your face flamed with heat and you pulled your hand away from his. You weren't supposed to talk about this. And Sebastian definitely wasn't. He wasn't even supposed to realize all of this. He was only a kid. "Seb, that’s enough," you said, sharper than you meant to. His face fell immediately, lips quivering slightly. You softened your tone. "I know you don’t mean it bad, but just stop, okay?"

Mapi looked into your eyes, trying to find the truth. Her eyes weren’t judging. They were soft, patient. “Cici. You guys can tell us what’s really going on. You know that right?”

You shook your head quickly, looking away. “It’s nothing. I told you. They’re just strict.”

“Strict is one thing,” Ingrid said, her voice calm but firm. “Telling you that you don’t deserve rewards, or not showing up for you. that’s not strict, cariño. That’s neglect.”

The word felt like a slap. You flinched visibly, your throat burning. "Don't-" you started, but the tears were already stinging your eyes. You wiped them away angrily, hating how vulnerable you felt. "It's not like it matters," you muttered. "I'm used to it. It's just... life."

Mapi shifted closer, voice low and serious. “That doesn’t make it right, Ciela. You deserve people who show up for you. Every single time.”

Ingrid reached out, brushing a thumb over your knuckles in a way that made you stiffen, then slowly relax. “You’re allowed to want more. You’re allowed to need more.”

You stared at the two of them, the weight of their words were hitting but you did your best to block them out. Sebastian scooted closer to you, pressing himself into your side. His small hand found yours without hesitation.

He looked up with you with his sad eyes. The brown eyes that looked so young but grown, “I’m sorry, Cici,” he whispered, blinking up at you. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, squeezing your eyes shut against the tears threatening to fall. "I’m not sad," you whispered back.

It was clear that no one believed you. Just a second ago you were on the verge of tears. But it didn't matter, Mapi and Ingrid didn’t push anymore after that. You were grateful about that. You felt like you were falling apart a bit and you know if they pushed anymore you would break.

Instead, the four of you began to walk towards the ice cream shop. It wasn’t very far. Close enough to walk and not get tired. You started the walk with Sebastian holding your hand but as you neared the shop, you watched as he reached out and grabbed Ingrid’s too. For a moment you were struck with jealousy. You were meant to be his person, the one he depended on. But that jealousy quickly faded when you realized that it was better for him to have more people. 

Mapi pointed out the ice cream shop. It was just across the street from where the four of you stood now. As you went to cross, you were pulled back by Sebastian’s voice. “Wait!” He sounded slightly panicked so you turned towards him. “We all are a’pposed to hold hands when crossing. Right, CiCi?”

That was something you had taught him after he was nearly hit by a motorbike in the street. Since then, you had been pretty firm on it. “Yeah, you're right Bash but you are holding hands with Ingrid. Me and Mapi can cross the street by ourselves.” Ingrid smiled while Mapi let out a light laugh.

Sebastian did not look amused at all. “No. The rule is to hold hands. If you don't, no ice cream!” He sounded so serious and even crossed his arms to prove his point. 

You were about to argue more with him when Mapi just grabbed your hand. You looked at her confused but she just smiled, “It’ll only be for a second. Let's just do what the king says.” 

Sebastian laughed at being called the king and reached out to grab Mapi’s other hand. “See, CiCi? I’m a good ruler.” 

You smiled at his silliness and allowed the four of you to cross the street, hands in hands. Once you were across, you automatically let go of Mapi’s hand while Sebatsian all but dragged them inside. Sebastian gasped the second he stepped in. “Whoa,” he whispered, eyes wide as he looked in the tubs behind the glass. “There’s so many kinds!” 

Mapi chuckled, “Yeah, that’s kind of the point, buddy.” She looked down at him with a soft smile. “Pick whatever you want.” Their hands were still holding on to one another as you just watched the interaction. It was sweet. Way sweeter than you were used to. 

“Whatever kind? Really?” he asked in awe, like he couldn’t believe it. He turned to you, as if asking for permission. You said nothing, just gave a small nod. Normally you felt in charge but with the other two women holding onto him, you couldn't help but feel less important. Like you weren't his parent but instead his sister. His face lit up and he turned back to the counter. 

The worker behind the counter greeted you all, then looked at Sebastian. “What’ll it be, little man?” 

Sebastian stood on his tiptoes and pointed at the brightest, most colorful flavor behind the glass. “That one! The rainbow one with the sprinkles in it!” You smiled faintly. Of course.

“Good choice,” Ingrid said, nudging you gently as the worker started scooping. “What about you?”

You shrugged, not really used to being included in things like this. “I don’t know… I guess just vanilla’s fine.”

Mapi made a face like you actually offended her. “Vanilla? Come on. After that goal? You earned something better than vanilla.”

You wanted to disagree but Mapi wasn't taking no for an answer. You cracked a smile at that, small but real. “Alright.” You had a better look at your options, “Maybe…cookie dough?”

Both Mapi and Ingrid nodded at that. Mapi threw her arm around you, “Now we’re talking.”

As the two older women ordered, you went in search of your bag for your money. You knew you didn't have a lot but you hoped you would have enough to cover yours and Seb’s portion of the bill. You found a few loose bills but when you turned to pay, Ingrid had already swiped her card. 

“I got it, Ci.” The Norwegian replied seeing your determined face.

You weren’t one to take charity though. “Its fine, just take this.” 

You tried to shove your money into her hand but she just shook her head. “We invited you to ice cream. We pay.” She said it like it was so simple. 

You opened your mouth to dispute when Mapi just shook her head. “Don’t try to argue with her. Once she decides something its impossible to change her mind.” It was a clear tease towards the norwegian but you could tell it was also accurate. 

You allowed yourself to be dragged from the counter and you settled into a booth by the window while Sebastian practically dove into the seat right across from you and began licking his cone as if it would disappear.

It was quiet for a few minutes as everyone dug into their ice cream, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy it. You let yourself believe that this could be real. 

“You know,” Mapi said after a few minutes of silence, “I don’t think we cheered loud enough.”

If she said it to get a rise out of Bash, it worked. Sebastian gasped dramatically. “We were so loud!”

Ingrid leaned in and joined the small debate. “I don't know, Seb. CiCi might not have heard us.”

The little boy was horrified. “She did. She did!” He turned towards you. “CiCi, tell them you heard us.”

You smirked, enjoying being able to tease him, “Nah, I didn't even know anyone came.”

Sebastian let out a gasp of betrayal “You're lying. You knew I came. You brought me!” His hand pointed at you but you could only laugh at the ice cream dripping down his chin.

Ingrid saw how he was getting worked up, “Okay, okay. I'm sure we were loud enough, Seb. Maybe next time, we should bring a sign to really make sure CiCi sees us.” Sebastian calmed down and then nodded at the suggestion. 

“Or we could get her head on a stick!” Mapi added, raising her eyebrows at you.

You groaned, face turning red. “Please don’t. That sounds so embarrassing.”

Sebastian nodded, not caring about your embarrassment, and said, “We should get a big sign that says ‘we love CiCi.”

You didn’t tell him no despite feeling like you should. It was clear your brother was happier than ever, sitting with his melted ice cream and smiling brightly. 

After the banter died down and you all continued to lick your cones, a comfortable silence filled your booth. As you were finishing up, Mapi caught you watching Sebastian.

Her eyes met yours and you knew they were filled with understanding. “He’s lucky to have you,” she said softly.

You looked back at her and then at Ingrid who gave you a knowing smile. “I’m lucky to have him,” you whispered. And you really were. You felt as if you were becoming more lucky by the day. You couldn't help but wonder when this luck would run out. 

[couva0911]

hurricanes: part 1 (the meeting)

Summary: The first time you cross paths with Mapi and Ingrid

When you had gotten out of bed, you could already tell it was gonna be one of those days. The type of day where everything seemed to go bad. Where you wouldn't be able to control your anger and where your stomach feels wrong. Whenever you felt like this, part of you just wanted to stay in bed. Curled up in a ball and ignoring everything around you. 

But you knew better. At thirteen you knew that no matter how badly you wanted to vanish for a day, the world wouldn’t pause for you. It was Friday. That meant a full school day ahead of you, hours spent pretending to be okay and you didn't hate everyone around you, and then that was followed by a match in the evening that you were expected to play like nothing was wrong. You hated how expectations didn’t change just because you felt like this. No one ever seemed to notice the cracks because you refused to let them. You couldn't let them. 

So, begrudgingly, you pushed yourself out of your bed and forced yourself to get ready. You passed by your little brother’s room on the way to the kitchen, and your footsteps softened instinctively. Your little brother was still asleep, peaceful in his bed. As if he never had the type of days you did. Part of you thought it was unfair. You were consumed with so much weight and anger while he was always carefree. But you were grateful that he didn't have to feel this way. He was too young to question if life was worth living. 

As you walked throughout your house, you were immediately hit with the disgusting smell of alcohol. It was a fragrance that always seemed to linger wherever your parents were. The bitter stench of alcohol seemed to cling to everything it touched. It was in the walls, in the furniture, in the air itself. You hated the smell but despised the behaviors it caused even more. 

Your mother was passed out on the sofa, a beer can sat next to her hand. You should have known this would be the scene you walked in on. At least she was asleep. There was a time you would’ve been scared. A time you would’ve tiptoed over and checked her pulse, panicked over whether she was breathing. Now, though, it was different. Now, you just noted that at least she was asleep. It was always more calm when she was unconscious. 

Your father was sitting at the table, dead to the world. His cigarette bud was clearly burnt out but his fingers were still wrapped around it. Once again, you were happy you could make breakfast in peace. 

You decided on toast. Something simple, something even you couldn't mess up. There were only three pieces of bread in the cupboard. You sighed and thought for a moment. Sebastian will want two so I can have one. 

One probably wouldn't be enough to hold you over, especially since you had a game that night but it was the best you could do.You were hungrier than usual, probably because of the game and lack of dinner last night, but you would manage. You always managed.You finished toasting it before spreading butter on it.  You wanted jam but you weren't shocked to see you had none. You never had the food you wished for. 

For a moment, you allowed yourself to be pissed. You always felt like this it seemed like. Before you could get lost in the anger you had to remind yourself. This is just life. Just another morning that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

And like every other morning, you had responsibilities to do. You had to get Sebastian up and ready as well. It wasn't an easy task. The five year old loved his sleep. With the plate of toast in your hand, you made your way to where Sebastian was asleep. You put the toast on his dresser and went over to the sleeping body. 

Sitting down, you brushed his hair out of his eyes, “Hey,” you whispered softly, almost not wanting to wake him. “Time to get up, Seb. We’ve got school.”

He stirred, rubbing at his eyes with tiny fists, blinking up at you with a sleepy pout. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled.

You smiled faintly but it faded quickly. Oh how you wished that you could beg for five more minutes of sleep. “Can’t, buddy. We’ll be late and it's friday.”

With a sigh that was too big for someone so small, he sat up. You helped him climb out of bed and led him to the bathroom, making sure he brushed his teeth. You brushed yours with your toothbrush that had bent brussels. You picked out his uniform and helped him into them, gently tugging the buttoned shirt over his head when his arms got stuck.

He looked up at you with that innocent, sleepy face and lion hair and said, “Can I have breakfast?”

You sighed and nodded, going to the dresser and grabbing the toast, “Yeah,” you said, ruffling his hair. “I saved you two slices.”

For a moment, everything was quiet in his bedroom as the two of you ate. He was unaware that your parents passed out in the room next door. And in that stillness, with your little brother next to you, crumbs on his lips and the sun finally starting to rise, you let yourself breathe. 

Once both you and Sebastian were done with the breakfast, you made your way into the streets of Barcelona. You held his hand as you walked down the narrow sidewalk, making sure to keep a steady pace. It wasn't a long walk but with Seb’s little legs, he started to whine. “I’m tired, CiCi.” The dreaded nickname you pretended to hate despite it causes your heart to thump faster.

You huffed. While you understood he was little, you really didn't want to have to carry him to school. “We’re almost there. You can walk a few more blocks.” 

He crossed his arms in defiance before stomping his foot. “Nooo. I don't wanna.”

You hated when he got like this. When the stubbornness you both shared stared back at you. But you knew that he wasn't gonna give in. He would not move until he got his way. Something you admired and despised at the same time.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Sebastian,” you warned, your voice tight from annoyance. “Seriously? You’re a big kid now, come on”

He didn’t answer. Just gave you the pout and slouched his shoulders. His arms were still crossed and he gave absolutely no sign of giving in.

You looked up at the sky, like maybe some higher power would give you strength, then dropped your shoulders in defeat. You didn't want him to win but you also knew if you waited much longer you would be last for school. “Fine. Come here.” You bent down and gestured for him to jump on your back.

Immediately, his expression changed. He lit up and the pout vanished. It was replaced with a toothy grin as he ran over to you, practically throwing himself at your back.

“Hold on tight,” you muttered as you crouched down more, letting him climb up. His small arms wrapped tightly around your neck, and his legs found their place around your waist. 

As you straightened up with him on your back, your knees protested a little, and your balance shifted under his weight. He wasn’t a baby anymore but sometimes you felt like he was. His little head rested near your shoulder, and you could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. It was like carrying a living heartbeat, a reminder that someone depended on you. It was things like this that made you feel like a mother. You weren’t supposed to feel this way. You were only thirteen but already in charge of someone else. It wasn’t fair.

He didn't care though, he hummed contentedly against your back as you started walking again.  “You’re the best big sister ever,” he said, his words muffled into your hoodie.

You didn’t answer. His words meant more to you than he knew. You just gave his leg a gentle squeeze and kept walking, the school coming closer with every step you took.

You were tired. Your body ached. You didn’t want to go to school. You didn’t want to play in the match and follow all of the rules. You didn’t even want to pretend to smile today. But Sebastian was smiling. 

Once you were in the school yard, you put your little brother done and straightened your top. 

“Will you pick me up later?” he asked, looking up at you. 

You hesitated, then shook your head. “Marcela is gonna walk you home today, remember? I’ve got my game.”

His nose scrunched. “Oh yeah. I forgot.”

“You’ll be okay, yeah?” you asked, crouching down a bit to look him in the eyes. “She promised to give you snacks after, and she said you can hang out with Pau too. You love Pau.”

He didn't smile but instead blinked his brown eyes up at you, “I love you more.” You knew he was trying to get what he wanted but he still sounded so cute when he said it.

You smiled and kissed his forehead. “I love you too. But I got the game today and I can't be watching you, now can I?”

He thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Okay. But only if you win.”

You smiled, just a little. “I’ll try.”

You ruffled his hair and watched as he joined the crowd of other kids pouring through the school gates, turning once to wave before disappearing into the building. You sighed with relief as you forced yourself through the school gates.

Sitting in class was torture as always. You kept tapping your pen against your desk, clenching your jaw so tightly your teeth ached. Someone bumped into you in the hallway and didn’t say sorry. Someone else laughed too loud, and it made your skin crawl. Everything grated. Everything felt like too much.

By lunchtime, you weren’t even hungry. You sat outside alone. It wasn't as if you had lunch anway. You didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to pretend. You just wanted the day to be over.

As the final bell rang, a pulse of relief ran through you. You didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. You stood up from your desk and bolted out. You had your backpack over your shoulder as you ran through the streets to get to your game field. 

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

It had rained the night before. The pitch was still soft under your cleats but you liked it that way. When it was wet there were more excuses to slide, to throw yourself into tackles. It was like an outlet for you. And it was one of those days where you had a lot of anger to release.

You were happy to be playing. It was one of the only things that truly mattered to you. You were playing well too. Not perfect and a little more sloppy than you probably should but you still looked good. You went in for a tackle a little rougher than you mean to. The ref had blown the whistle to give you a warning. Your coach kept yelling your name, telling you to calm down but you weren’t listening. You never did when you felt like this. You just wanted the ball. Wanted to take down the closest player to you. You knew you were playing recklessly but you didn't care. Anything to feel better. You played like it was a war no one else understood.

Unbeknownst to you, you had some unexpected watchers in the crowd of parents. It was an off day for Mapi and Ingrid. They had a game yesterday which meant today was a rest and recovery day. They normally spent it just hanging around with one another but today they had decided that the weather was asking for them to be outside. They had decided to go to a small cafe on the corner of Barcelona. 

That was when they noticed a small football pitch that was surrounded by parents. As they moved closer to the pitch with coffees in hand, they saw two teams composed of young girls. Your team was in blue while the opposition wore light orange. 

Your uniform was already covered in dirt from all your sliding. That’s probably why they noticed you. You had a way of making yourself stand out. Your anger was unmistakable on the pitch. You also had an air of maturity as opposed to the other thirteen year olds. 

You didn’t see them at first. They were watching from the sideline, just outside the cracked wire fence, dressed down in hoodies like they were trying to blend in. They looked normal. Like a couple just coming to show support. 

You weren't one to look into the crowd. It wasn't like you normally had anyone looking back. Unless you were meant to watch your little brother, no one ever came to your games. It didn't bother you. You were used to being invisible to your parents. Hell, you weren't sure if they even knew you played football. 

When the match ended, you jogged off the pitch. You grabbed your water bottle and bag and brushed off the coach's half-hearted praise.

As you turned around to walk home, you were stopped by a voice. “You’re very good.” 

It wasn't a voice you recognised. It was said in English, not spanish. But not the English you were used to. It was more accented. Like it wasn’t the person's native tongue. You turned in confusion, trying to figure out who was talking to you.

You were shocked by who it was. It was them. In front of you stood Mapi and Ingrid with their empty coffee cups.  Just standing there like it was the most normal thing in the world. Your brain scrambled to catch up, eyes flicking between their faces. .You blinked, unsure if your exhaustion was making you hallucinate. 

You didn’t answer. What were you supposed to say? Saying thank you felt a bit dumb and you were still confused about what they were doing here. 

Mapi seemed to pick up on your hestitian. “I’m Mapi,” she said, like you didn’t already know. “This is Ingrid.”

“I know who you are,” you muttered, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

Ingrid smiled gently. “What’s your name?”

You hesitated. Part of you didn’t want to give it. You knew you weren't supposed to talk to strangers. Not that your parents told you but it was sorta common sense. 

Against your better judgement you gave a slight smile. You took a large deep breath before saying it. You knew better to let other people get involved, but you gave it anyway.

And that was the beginning.

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

It wasn't just that game you saw them. They kept coming. Not every game, but enough. Enough for you to start scanning the fence before warm-ups, pretending you weren’t looking for them. At first you weren't sure if it was you they were coming to see. After all, there were about sixteen other girls on your team. But you were the one they would approach after.

Sometimes you would just sit with them for a few minutes after, drinking your water while Mapi would lightly, tossing a casual “good game, hotshot” with a smirk. You hated to admit it but it was becoming your favorite part of the week. Other times Ingrid would ask real questions, as if she actually cared. It always surprised you when she would remember the details you even hadn’t realized you shared. Little by little, their presence became less surprising. They sat in silence and they listened. They weren't afraid to joke. They actually seemed to care.

Sometimes it was just Mapi, leaned against the post with sunglasses on and she would shoot you a smile if your eyes met. Sometimes Ingrid, alone with her arms wrapped around a thermos or a cup of takeaway coffee. And sometimes, it was both. They would stand side by side, watching you like you as if they were meant to. As if you were theirs to cheer on.

You didn’t tell anyone. Not your teammates, not your coach, and definitely not your parents. They could even be called that.

There were days you barely spoke to them. Just a nod or a smile. Maybe they would exchange a glance that lingered a little too long. And other days, you talked about everything and nothing. You would talk about your last game, where you could improve, even things as silly as the music Mapi insisted you had to hear or a show that you watched when you were Sebastian's age.

You started to wait for them without meaning to. Your eyes began to immediately turn to the gate the second you stepped onto the field. If they weren’t there, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You convinced yourself that you didn't care. But when they were, something in you settled. Like you had a reason to run harder, play sharper. Like you weren’t just doing it for yourself anymore. You felt more calm when they were there. 

One of your favorite things about them was that they never asked questions you didn’t want to answer. Never pried, never pushed. But still, somehow, they knew. They knew when you were tired, when something at home had gone wrong, when you needed a joke or just silence. And they gave you that, every time.

After one of your games on a Friday, you sat on the curb tying and untying your laces because you didn’t want to go home yet. Mapi crouched down in front of you, balancing a bottle of water between her knees.

“You always walk home alone?” she asked, not quite casual.

You shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Where’s your family?”

You didn’t look up. “Busy.” There was more to that but you didn't dare say it. You couldn't reveal what was eating you inside. That your parents were awful. That they hated you as much as you hated them. It was a secret that had to stay secret.

Ingrid sat beside you then, not saying anything. She handed you a protein bar, like it was no big deal. You didn’t want to take it, but your stomach twisted with hunger, and they were both watching you so you took it. You ate it fast, maybe a little too fast. Mapi didn’t say anything, but something shifted in her face. Her jaw tightened.

The next time you played, they brought snacks. They acted like it was nothing. Just casually offered you something after the game. A sandwich. A bar. And again, you didn’t say anything. But you kept taking what they gave you.

[couva0911]

Hi! Hope you are doing alright. Wanted to let you know that hurricanes is an great story, sad but written perfectly. Would love to know what happens next but no pressure. Just sharing the love for your writing :)

Thank you for your kind words! They mean so much to me. Hopefully the next part will come out tonight but well see. I kinda want to go through the whole story and reconfigure it a little so longer chapters but less of them but idk when thatll get done

[couva0911]

hiii, hope you're having a good day, do you know when we could have another chapter of hurricanes? Just curious :)

my day is unfortunately not good but at least it was a matchday! i actually have the next chapter in my drafts and when i get home and finish my school paper, i will hopefully edit it and post!

[couva0911]

ingrid in tears = the end of an era

thanks princess for everything you’ve done for barca

[couva0911]

Your stories are amazing and unique and beautiful.You have a special way of bringing characters to life.I always look forward to reading what you write. Keep up the great work and keep enjoying what you do. Never ever listen to trolls. They just exist to put others down. You are amazing and you are very good. ^⁠_⁠^

brb just sobbing over this sweet anon comment. whoever you are just know how much i love you!!!

[couva0911]

do people like how i have been doing hurricanes? like the format and chapter length? i am thinking about combining some chapters so there is less. let me know!!

[couva0911]

https://www.tumblr.com/couva0911/782637882799194112/yourlastname13-part-11?source=share

Please 🥺🥺🥺 never end this social media verse. It is my favourite one. And thank you so much for posting this 💐💐💐

i cant promise it will never end but everytime i think about stopping it i cant find it in me to do so. im glad you like it and thank you so much for your kind kind words

sidenote: are u the same sweet anon that always leaves such kind messages? the emojis are the same!

[couva0911]

https://www.tumblr.com/couva0911/782637882799194112/yourlastname13-part-11?source=share

Absolutely love it , actually I love everything you write. But your sm universe fic has a special place in my heart and I love how the reader is only afraid of ingrid and not even alexia and leah 🤣. I am completely hooked and immersed in your fics. Thank you for putting out such amazing fics 🤌🏻

its these responses that i keep doing it for!! i have been getting some not so kind messages recently but then i get these and it makes me want to write more! thank you so much kind anon