more writing memes

[freefallskyline]

Give me a link to one of my fics, and I'll give you details that didn't make it into the fic. Background canon, deleted scenes, or a look into the future. My choice, but if you have a specific question you can ask it in your request.
(from nautisch.)
some of my fics are locked, but if you really want to read something, or if you've read it before and want

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fernando torres

[freefallskyline]

I don't really remember what I wanted to write about for this, other than the kind of depressing and mostly terrible World Cup Torres personally had, ignoring Spain's success as a whole. I guess it was probably strikership rivalries and how he felt about being injured and/or in bad form pretty much the whole time (bitter, begrudging); how little and unimportant his role ultimately was; how I'm sure he knew that he probably only had one World Cup left (and that he'd be even older then); and how that conflicted with the fact that Spain won (joy, glory). Maybe I just wanted to write this because the way the game just continued when he went down and stayed there for ages waiting for the stretcher really stuck with me. Like, at that point in time, keeping the scoreline at 1-0 was so much more important than however badly injured Fernando Torres was. I think it kind of summed up how bad his World Cup was. I remember feeling really bad for him; I can't help but think that he must have felt really useless and unnecessary.

The 03rd (Eroica)

116'. Andrés scores, and Fernando knows that it's over; for him, anyway, no chances left in South Africa.

120'. There are different kinds of burning - a burning in the groin that means injury, that means fuck, there goes the starting XI for Liverpool, and there is a burning that comes from the heart and maybe shows up on the face (if you are pale and freckly, if you do not tan) that comes from frustration and self-loathing and a feeling of disgrace.

Fernando goes down and he doesn't get up. The game continues; Fernando is not essential, not now, and he lies there, face red and eyes watering and he waits. (For the stretcher, for the final whistle, for everything to either not matter at all or to become history in the making.)