#felicitat

[sextavas]

Amor i Por: Un Duet Perillós?

Cuida el teu cor.

L'amor porta a la por.

La por és el camí

cap al Costat Fosc.

La por porta a la ràbia,

la ràbia porta a l'odi,

l'odi al sofriment.

Un cor valent, no tremola ni es retreu, Reconéix el por, i amb saviesa el supera. L'amor autèntic, ens omple de força, Ens guia en la foscor, i ens fa més feliços.

[anumineverumi]

Nueva #etapa. Nueva #vida. #psicología #valorarse #autocuidado #amorpropio #feliz #felicidad #happy #felicitat #mónrural #mundorural #unacatalanaenleón (en Matallana de Torío, Spain) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp4qpWYtzeC/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[negreabsolut]

Feliços per sempre més, per AdadiaB. [font]

[mnoguesa12]

Comentari d'un audiovisual

Analitzem la pel·lícula "La Teoria Sueca de l'Amor".

La pel·lícula "La Teoria Sueca de l'Amor" és una reflexió sobre la manera com vivim i busquem l'amor a la societat actual. A través de la narrativa, es qüestiona la idea que la felicitat i la realització personal es poden trobar mitjançant relacions romàntiques o matrimonis perfectes. En comptes d'això, s'argumenta que l'amor veritable i durador és una cosa que es troba dins d'un mateix i que es pot compartir amb altres persones en una varietat de formes.

A més, la pel·lícula també aborda temes com la solitud, la tecnologia i el seu impacte en les relacions humanes, i la importància de trobar un propòsit i un significat a la vida. D'aquesta manera "La Teoria Sueca de l'Amor" ens invita a reflexionar sobre la nostra pròpia recerca de l'amor i la felicitat, i a qüestionar els supòsits i mites que s'han difós a la societat sobre aquests temes. Ens permet ser crítics amb la individualització i a reflexionar sobre el fet que sovint ens les haguem d'arreglar com podem amb el suport de la gent que ens envolta, també genera satisfaccions, les quals no et dóna la societat dels individus. A Madrid, es produïen migracions de dones joves del Marroc que no volien casar-se amb el que dictava la seva família o de dones separades, mentre que a Barcelona, les migracions eren de reagrupament familiar, dones casades que es retrobaven aquí amb els seus respectius marits. Aquí entre la qüestió de la modernitat i les societats arcaiques. Aquestes últimes s'associen a accions col·lectives, mentre que la modernitat s'associa a la individualització. Weber va ser un dels primers que va parlar d'Alemanya com un país modern, ja que en tema religiós cada individu vivia la seva espiritualitat de manera individual, en canvi, Andalusia era arcaica, pel fet que la religió es vivia de manera col·lectiva, realitzant processons on assistien milers de persones. Què passa si traslladem la teoria de la individualització a l'àmbit educatiu? Doncs que ens trobem amb el gran dilema actual: l'educació personalitzada. És bona? És dolenta? Fins a quin punt personalitzar tant els aprenentatges és convenient per l'estudiant? Els hi estem fent un favor a l'alumnat? L'estem condemnant?

[tornoaserjo]

Mataria per una piscina

[guillemelgat]

I'm posting this because it's a bop and I haven't been able to stop listening to it for the past week. The title and song reference Mercè Rodoreda, who is possibly the most famous Catalan author ever, she's certainly one of the most important writers in 20th century Catalonia. The protagonist of the video is reading her novel Mirall trencat (Broken Mirror), and there are several lines in the song which reference her works, hence the title. I'd try to mark the quotes, except that I would probably miss half of them, but if someone wants to take a stab at it I'd love to see that!

Deixa’m dir en la meva defensa Let me say in my defense que trobar-te aquí no estava a l’agenda, That finding you here wasn’t on my agenda que tinc més que coll avall que això de tu, de mi, That I’m in over my head, that this thing with you, with me que res: que era remoure la merda. That whatever, that it was fueling the fire Sé que no em convens, que és perdre el temps, I know you’re not good for me, that it’s a waste of time que no vals ni un dels segons que encara tinc. That you’re not worth even one of the seconds I still have Que l’amor, amb tu, com més lluny, més bonic, That love, with you, is better the further away it is citant Mercè Rodoreda. To quote Mercè Rodoreda

Deixa’m dir en la meva defensa, Let me say in my defense que trobar-te aquí no estava a l’agenda. That finding you here wasn’t on my agenda Que m’agrada caminar de nit, carrers petits. That I like to walk at night down small streets Hi ha màgia en la cosa de perdre’t. There’s magic in the act of losing yourself Dius: em puc quedar una estona amb tu? You say, Can I sit with you a while? I somric perquè se’t veu d’una hora lluny: And I smile because I can see you from a mile off Si fas nosa no ho has mai de preguntar, If you get in the way you never need to bother asking això s’ha de saber veure, You’ve got to be able to see that citant Mercè Rodoreda. To quote Mercè Rodoreda

[ TORNADA: Deixa’m dir que encara no estic bé, Let me say that I’m still not okay i que intento no passar pel teu carrer, And that I try not to go down your street i que hi ha cançons que salto molt sovint. And that there’s songs that I often skip Ets tu, record per tota la vida. It's you, you're a memory for the rest of my life Deixa’m dir que encara no soc jo, Let me say that I’m still not myself que ara em falta temps per endreçar-te a lloc, That now I need time to tuck you away in your place que només hi ha vida si la vius a poc a poc, That there’s only a life if you live it slowly citant Mercè Rodoreda. To quote Mercè Rodoreda ]

Deixa’m dir en la meva defensa, Let me say in my defense que trobar-te aquí no estava a l’agenda. That finding you here wasn’t on my agenda que, a vegades, surto així, del plan conèixer gent, That sometimes I go out like this, to meet people que funciona. Hauries de veure That it works—you should see com he anat guanyant soltura, How I’ve been gaining independence com he esporgat pors paralitzants, gegants, i tant: How I’ve cast away paralyzing, gigantic fears; indeed les coses importants són sempre les que no ho semblen, The important things are always the ones that don’t seem it citant Mercè Rodoreda. To quote Mercè Rodoreda

[ TORNADA ]

Deixa’m dir que encara no estic bé, Let me say that I’m still not okay i que intento no passar pel teu carrer, And that I try not to go down your street i que hi ha cançons que salto molt sovint. And that there’s songs that I often skip Ets tu, record per tota la vida. It’s you, a memory for the rest of my life Deixa’m dir que encara no soc jo, Let me say that I’m still not myself que ara em falta temps per endreçar-te a lloc, That now I need time to tuck you away in your place que ara tot és fràgil, tot tremola. That right now everything is fragile, everything is shaking Tinc una autoestima en construcció. My self-love is under construction

Deixa’m dir que hauria estat pitjor, Let me say that it could have been worse que era un gran deliri aquella set d’amor. That it was all a great delusion, that thirst for love Quan et llances a estimar i surts escaldat, què fas? When you throw yourself into loving someone and you end up getting burnt, what do you do? Has de canviar de manera. You have to change something

Deixa’m dir que encara no soc jo, Let me say that I’m still not myself que ara em falta temps per endreçar-te a lloc, That now I need time to tuck you away in your place que només hi ha vida si la vius a poc a poc, That there’s only a life if you live it slowly citant Mercè Rodoreda. To quote Mercè Rodoreda

[jun-elli]

Gran orgull i feliç lluita 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[f-elicitat]

Não era você. Não era você porque, se fosse, eu não seria eu. Não era você porque eu tentaria, sob todas as formas, me encaixar no espaço que talvez você nem fosse me dar, e Deus sabe disso. Não era você porque, no fundo, você não quis. Porque eu teria que me desdobrar para provar que valeria a pena o seu sacrifício. Não era justamente porque haveria um sacrifício. Não era porque eu não poderia me justificar a todo o momento, na tentativa de demonstrar que eu era a sua pessoa. Não era porque, naquela época, eu teria me negado por completo para me transformar em sua versão. A versão que te teria e me afastaria cada vez mais de mim. Ou de quem eu acho que quero ser. Então não, não era você. Foi por um tempo, confesso. E eu quis muito que continuasse a ser. Mas há um momento, e ele chega para todas nós, que a gente percebe que nada é tão importante quando se manter presente para si mesma. Eu morri de amores por ti, mas continuei respirando, e foi então que eu finalmente percebi que eu só não poderia morrer para mim. Mesmo com todos os pedacinhos quebrados e jogados ao chão, eu não poderia deixar de me reconstruir e continuar caminhando. Por mim. Por quem eu já fui. Por quem eu pretendo ser. Então não, não era você. E talvez não seja ninguém, o que é uma pena. Mas hoje eu consigo agradecer por isso. Se fosse somente por mim, seria todos, menos eu. Mas como não é, repito, não era - e não é - você. E agora posso afirmar: que bom que não. Felicitat.

[wosoamazing]

Trying & Trimester 1

Baby x3 | Baby, Baby... Baby?

Summary: The first trimester of pregnancy

Warnings: IVF, Pregnancy (morning sickness at end)

“Bebé, if I have to sit it’s only fair you sit too,” Alexia whined from her position on the couch.

“I’m coming Ale, I am just getting you a hot water bottle,”

“Per què?” 

“You know the answer to that,” you told her as you sat down next to her handing her the hot water bottle which she immediately put on her stomach as she pulled you inside her side.

“Thank you,” she whispered before focusing back on the match you had playing on the screen.

You’d met Alexia when you signed for Barca in 2016, having previously played for Chelsea, you were in the academy there before making your senior team debut in 2013. A month into you being at Barca Alexia asked you out, and a year later you tore your LCL, ACL and your internal meniscus, ending your playing career, and ‘ruining’ Alexia’s proposal plans, however 6 months later Alexia proposed to you and you of course said yes. You were both now happily married and you worked for Barça as the assistant coach for the women’s team. 

—————

“You’re doing IVF now aren’t you?” Mapi asked when you walked out onto the pitch the next day at training. You’d grown close to Mapi over the years, due to her being one of Alexia’s best friends.

“Why do you say that?” you asked.

“You were both away yesterday, Alexia is only doing light training today and she has been snappier than usual for the past two weeks,”

“We are, but we didn’t want to tell anyone other than Eli because we’re not sure if it will work or not,” you admitted and Mapi nodded before hugging you.

“If you need anything just ask,” she told you firmly before going to warm up.

“Bebé, are you feeling okay?” Alexia asked as she emerged from the office, having taken the day off for your egg transfer, only to see you laid on the couch in a foetal position, under a blanket despite the heat. 

“What if it doesn’t work again,” you mumbled, having already tried three times, all three being unsuccessful, you just really wanted a baby and it wasn’t working.

“Then we try again or we look at other options,” she reasoned with you and you nodded, before climbing onto her lap, she wrapped her arms around you tightly placing her chin on top of your head before she felt you start to softly cry, “It will be okay, we’ll be okay,” Alexia said and you were unsure whether she was reassuring your or herself, she was unsure about that too.

“You’ve been having a lot of blood tests lately, are you sure you’re okay?” Aitana asked you as she’d noticed the tape on your arm.

“Yes I’m sure, when they did the first one, some of my levels were out, so they are just doing subsequent ones to check they’ve fixed themselves,” you lied to her, but thankfully she believed you and nodded before walking away.

“Are you okay?” Mapi asked, knowing the real reason why, it was just you and her left in the meeting room.

“I think. We will find out this afternoon, so it’s just a waiting game,” you told her and she nodded giving you a brief hug before you both left the meeting room and headed out to the pitch.

—

You were visiting Eli when you got the email, having stepped foot into the kitchen when you got the notification.

“Ale, Babe, come here,” you said and she was quick to leave her spot on the couch and to be at your side, “it worked?”

“It worked?”

“Sí, look here,” you said as you put the phone in her hands, she looked down to read it and her face softened before she looked back up to you.

“You’re pregnant,” she said quietly.

“We’re having a baby,” and with that she hugged you tightly.

“Felicitats,” Eli said through tears before hugging you both.

“Què està passant? Per què tothom plora? (What’s going on? Why is everyone crying?)” Alba asked as she emerged from her bedroom.

“You’re going to be a Tia,” you told her and her face twisted in confusion before she soon realised and was joining the group hug, starting to cry as well. You messaged your parents to tell them the exciting news, knowing they wouldn’t be able to answer your call currently, before Alexia messaged Mapi to also tell her the news.

Leading up to your six week ultrasound your breasts had started to become more tender and you were peeing a lot more than you used to, which you expect to happen until further into your pregnancy, and it was safe to say the multiple trips to the bathroom every day was getting old fast. It was during your six week ultrasound that you found out you were having multiple babies, it was decided that you would be booked into see a perinatologist, in four weeks, to confirm the number but also make a plan for your pregnancy.

—

“And if you see here we have three babies, who have perfectly split and all have their very own sack,” the perinatologist said as he pointed to the screen, where your three babies were displayed.

“How’s that possible?” Alexia asked in pure shock she knew how it was just crazy.

“It’s a one in a million chance that an egg with split into three, so yes, very rare but it all is looking good, I’ll print those off for you whilst you get cleaned up and then we can talk more about the pregnancy and how we’re going to approach this,”

“Three?” you asked as you looked at Alexia, both still shocked.

“Sí, but we are going to love all of them, we can do this,” she reassured herself.

The perinatologist explained some things to look out for in the pregnancy, he also told you that your symptoms would most likely be worse than a single pregnancy due to having more hormones, which explained why you already needed to pee so much. He spoke more on what conversations and tests would also need to happen further into your pregnancy.

“Bebé,” you heard Alexia say groggily from your position on the bathroom floor, “are you okay?” Before you had the chance to respond you were leaning back over the toilet, “Oh bebé, estic aquí,” Alexia said softly as she positioned herself on the ground behind you, rubbing your back, “do you need anything?” she asked as you collapsed back into her, having finished.

“Stay,” you replied out of breath.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” she said as she settled in more leaning up against the wall before pulling you into her side.

“You were up all night last night with me, and the night before, and the game this weekend is important, you need to be rested,” you said as you sat up again.

“Et tinc, estàs bé,” Alexia murmured as you sat back up to lean over the toilet, once again collapsing back into her once you were done.

“You’re more important than a game bebé and don’t ever think otherwise, if you’re worried about me getting injured I won’t play, you matter more than football does, promesa.” Alexia said and you hummed in reply, “Do you want to go back to bed or stay here? I bought some sick bags this afternoon,” you let out a sigh of relief at that, the stress of accidentally throwing up somewhere other than the toilet could be lowered.

“Bed please,”

Alexia helped you stand up and clean your teeth before she guided you back to the bed. Helping you sit up against the pillows before sitting beside you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders as you rested your head on her shoulder, she placed a sick bag in her lap, so it was easy to grab if you did end up needing it.

“T'estimo,” she said into the crown of your head, placing a kiss there as her hand ran up and down your side.

“I love you too, thank you for helping me, I’m sorry I keep throwing up,”

“Bebé, of course I would help you, and it’s not your fault, you’re growing three little babies in there. But I still think we talk to the doctor, just incase it doesn’t go away,”

[ceesimz]

the taste of victory

(blurb after golden key to the sweet life + pt2)

"I knew you would be here."

Still in her Spain kit, this time with a gold European Championship medal around her neck, the effervescent captain came bounding over, understandably still on a glory high.

The Euros was a tournament that had plagued her ever since that injury, but now after coming out of international retirement, she'd done it. The trophy belonged to Spain for the next four years and Alexia had every right to relish in that fact like it was her first time winning a competitive title.

"How could we not come all this way?"

You, also in a Spain jersey, but who needed medals and trophies when there are two children on each side. Alexia had both achievements, one can only imagine her joy.

"You won, Mami!" Anaís squealed, her lanky limbs wrapping around her favourite champion just like a koala. Oriol was a bit more reserved, as he often was, definitely taking more of his Mami's introverted nature compared to Anaís who was the exact opposite of shy.

"Finally!" Alexia laughed, watching on as you rolled your eyes at her whilst she crouched down, Anaís still attached, so that Oriol could join. "Thank you both for coming. I'm sorry you had to miss your party."

Back in Spain, your neighbours were having a get-together for one of their four children they had that were all around the same age as Oriol and Anaís. The party they were due to host was the talk of the town, with a bouncy castle and a swimming pool and enough food to feed the whole of Spain, but ultimately Anaís and Oriol couldn't turn down the chance to fly to a new country to watch their Mami win yet another trophy. This was a pretty damn good excuse to not only miss the party, but throw one too when you all get back home.

You had flown on your own to watch two of the group games for Spain whilst your children stayed back at home for school until summer break, and the, albeit short and rare, time spent alone with Alexia was a welcome venture as it had been a while since that had happened. But being together as a four, celebrating the one title Alexia was missing from her vast list of accolades, well there wasn't much that could beat it.

"Felicitats, Mami." Oriol, the soon to be four year old, mumbled into Alexia's ear with his little arms clasped behind her neck.

"Grácies, amor meu." Alexia whispered, scooping him up with one arm as she holds Anaís' hand in the other and makes her way over to you.

There was a look in her eye, one you had never seen before. It frustrated you to no end that you couldn't quite place it, but that was something that would have to be unpacked another day.

"Family photo with the trophy? It is tradition." Alexia grinned at you, only for Anaís to groan beside her. "One photo, chiqui, then you can go play. Put Vicky in goal."

To no one's surprise, it looked like Anaís was swiftly following in Alexia's footsteps, whilst Oriol seemed to be a budding artist as he never went anywhere without his crayons. The two couldn't be more different, yet they got along better than most siblings, even with a larger age gap. Wait for the teenage years, Alexia would say anytime you brought it up, only for you to flick her ear and tell her to stop manifesting it.

"Mami, why do they call you a dinosaur?" Oriol asked innocently as the four of you headed over to the ceremony stage, oblivious to the painful jab he'd just sent his mother's way.

"Because she is old, Oreo." Anaís giggled to herself, sticking her tongue out at Alexia. The midfielder stopped in her tracks, turning to you with a displeased face.

"Amor, take him." She murmured, quickly handing over her son before lifting Anaís up by her armpits and sitting her on her shoulders. "Am I old if I can still do this? Pequeña mona, you are so cheeky. I just played two hours of football and won, yet you still call me old. What do I have to do?"

"Buy me some new football boots and we can forget this happened." You bursted out into loud laughter at that, because the only person Alexia had to blame for that sass was herself.

"Bien. You cannot call me old for a year yet, only when I am cuarenta. Mama is just one year younger than me, she's old too, no?"

"You just earnt yourself a night on the sofa when we get home, Ale. Another achievement, congratulations." With a sarcastic pat on her back, you march ahead of her as she's left scrambling to make up for her comment.

Ever since the word relationship was properly introduced to you as a teenager, you would worry that after being with the same person for so long, speaking to them everyday and sharing the same space, that it would get difficult and cracks would form. That never came to be true, in fact if anything, the foundations of your relationship only got stronger. There were days when things weren't easy, especially with two young children, but you couldn't have chosen a better route to go down.

It really had unlocked a life of bliss, just as the golden key had once promised.

"Oye, get back! It is our turn!" Mapi shooed away Anaís as the younger girl skipped over to the trophy.

The object was currently in the hands of Ingrid, with Mapi at her side and their two adopted children stood in front. Not so long after Alexia initially retired from the national team, Mapi had hung up her boots altogether. Ingrid was still playing, a senior figure for Barcelona and third in line of the captaincy role, whilst Mapi had flourished in the role of a stay at home mother. The Norwegian had taken a short break to make sure their children, a boy and a girl who were siblings, transitioned well into their home, and eventually their favourite weekend activity was going to watch their Mamma play.

"Hurry up, León! You didn't even play! And Ingrid isn't even Spanish!" Anaís bellowed, jumping head first into a teasing argument with the Spaniard at the outrageous claim she had made about Ingrid.

With that came a momentary quiet moment for just the two of you. Or, with Oriol too, but he was tired and more than content to slump against his Mama and take in the world around him. Alexia glanced over at her daughter and smiled seeing her bicker with her chosen family, before turning back to you where you were lightly rubbing your son's back to help him settle in the bustling environment.

"I cannot tell you how happy I am that you all came, cariño." Alexia told you quietly, moving to stand side-on so she could face you and also see Oriol's sleepy face. Her smile only brightened at both sights, and she raised an arm to rest around your waist whilst the other settled atop yours on the boy's back. "It is always the best surprise in the world, seeing you three in the stands."

"We would never have missed this, Ale. You must know that by now." You said to her, nudging her lightly.

"Well, I don't want to put pressure on any of you. It is a big ask from me to want you all to fly out here, but you did it anyway and I will always be thankful for that. You must know that by now." She reiterated the phrase back to you with a coy smile, one that deepened as you rolled your eyes affectionately.

"So, how do you feel? Eres campeóna de Europa." You grinned up at her, bumping your hip against her own as she chuckled and casted her eyes down to the medal hanging from her neck.

"It feels like completing the final chapter of a very long book, mi amor." She revealed after a moment. 

There it was again. That look in her eye.

“What's that?” You asked in confusion. She could only shrug and turn to look at her surroundings. Taking it all in. The moment feels very… final.

“I don't know. I just… I think this is it. What else is there for me to do?” 

You understand now. What she's hinting at is as gutting for you as it surely is for her, though it's probably at immeasurable heights for her. Definitely. The realisation steals your breath at first, solely because of the prospect of it, until it falls flat and the dust settles immediately. Because, really, who are you to argue with it.

“Are we on the same page?” You wondered quietly, and her eyes glistened with that familiar shine in the flood lights of the stadium.

“I think we are.” She smiled, one filled with an absurd amount of emotional complexity. It holds all stages of grief, yet peace can be found in it that tells you she's known this for some time. For a brief moment, you wish she could have shared this discreet burden, but it's a habit of hers you've never managed to break and at this point, you don't think you ever will.

“Qué, Mami?” Oriol suddenly lifted his head up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Nada, mijo. Ven aquí.” Alexia gently pried him from you and cuddled him closely to her, her eyes closed as she rested her head against his. “Mami gets to spend more time with you now, mi tesoro, how good is that?”

“Sí, Mami. Tired.” Oriol muttered, turning to hide his face in her neck.

“Lo sé, Oriol. We can go rest soon, just a few photos, vale? Can you do that for me?” 

Almost four years with Oriol, a further seven with Anaís, and the sight of Alexia seamlessly slipping into caring parent mode was still a sight to behold. She had just won the one title that had evaded her for her whole career, yet the only thing she wanted to focus on was her family. And that was what made you want to have children with her in the first place. All these years, all the trophies and titles and achievements later, and she hadn't changed at all.

“Ale.” You hummed, catching her attention as she looked back at you with a soft smile and glossy eyes.

“Sí?”

You paused, hesitating over the one phrase that had tumbled easily from your tongue since your fourth date with her. The hesitation wasn't a bad one, you were just stumped on how to express such an intense feeling. Three words didn't seem sufficient enough. 

“I love you.” Of all the times you had said it before, this one felt the strongest. This one felt like it held the most meaning.

“I love you too, amor.” Alexia replied simply, though the slight quiver in her voice and the bob of her throat revealed she understood the gravity of it too. 

“Te amo.” Oriol sighed, and you suspected the goosebumps on Alexia’s arms weren't from the chill of the evening nor from Oriol's breath on her neck.

“Te amo mucho!” Anaís hugged Alexia's leg after bounding over, placing an exaggerated kiss to her hip.

In one place, on the pitch of a stadium somewhere in Europe, Alexia had got it all. One of the most notable careers of all time in the world of football, and a family with enough love to keep each other afloat through any and all storms.

Her eyes were closed as she hugged both her children, and had you looked away a second earlier, you would have missed how she wiped a tear that slipped out. In an instant, you joined your family, with one arm around Oriol and Alexia and the other on Anaís’ back where she stood hugging her Mami.

“Come on, let's go get your final photo as a futbolista before you hang up your boots.” You said, kissing her temple where she hung her head to fully embed herself in the embrace of her loved ones. 

It seemed like now was the moment it all came to a head for her, where every loss and victory, injury and medal, every sacrifice and gain, it all subsided and she was left with this one last memory of the sport she had given her life to. Truly, there was no other accolade she could collect. She had made every second of her career worth it, the only thing she could do now was reap the benefits. 

There was no doubt in your mind that, in a few years, she’ll be back to the sport that’s in her DNA at this point, except as a coach with the same goal she had as a player. But that’s a future worry, because for now the only item on the agenda was to make sure the final photo of her career is one of carefree, unabashed joy with your children.

With one final wipe of her tears from you, she took Anaís’ hand again and kept Oriol in her hold whilst your hand lingered on her back, and led the four of you to where the trophy was calling her name.

“What does it mean to hang up your boots, Mami?” A quiet but slightly blubbery chuckle came from the woman you loved, before she sniffled and looked to her left at you.

“It means I am going to retire from football, mija.”

[pelova4president]

home is where the heart is

socials

Aitana Bonmati x Reader

~

aitanabonmati

liked by y/n_y/l/n and 37.629 others

HEM TORNAT, CULERS 💙❤️

comments

alexiaputellas ❤️❤️

keirawalsh hermosa

y/nsbonmati wish y/n and aitana could both win

↳ goatmati did you see them after the game, they were so cute!!

barcafem11 y/n needs to come to barca

(pretend that jana is aitana and you’re jill)

y/n_y/l/n posted on their story

aitanabonmati

liked by janafernandez3 and 33.281 others

mi amor és casa ❤️

comments

y/n_y/l/n my love 😘

↳ aitanabonmati 🌍❤️

lucybronze who made those amazing photo’s again??

↳ keirawalsh shut up i made those, yours were shit

↳ aitanabonmati true

y/n/l_bonmati14 they’re an absolute powercouple

↳ wosofem1789 y/n should come to barca

↳ goatbarca they’re definitely gonna sign her in the summer

(pretend you’re frido)

y/n_y/l/n, fcbfemeni

liked by keirawalsh and 26.720 others

hola, culers 👋

comments

aitanabonmati mi vida❤️❤️

fembarca11 I KNEW ITTT

barcal0v3r were gonna destroy every team in the CL

y/n_y/l/n posted on their story

aitanabonmati posted on their story

y/n_y/l/n

liked by jillroord and 23.175 others

my girl may have won all the prizes a footballer can get but i’ve won the real prize here ❤️

comments

jillroord and I thought jana and i were cheesy 🥴

↳ y/n_y/l/n shut up we’re not

↳ janafernandez3 jill they’re cuteee

keirawalsh barca’s powercouple 💪

alexiaputellas ❤️❤️

fanbarcafem123 the best couple

aitanabonmati

liked by liekemartens and 33.451 others

life lately 🫠

comments

lucybronze living the good life

keirawalsh aitana goodmorning 👋

y/n_y/l/n life with you has been quite alright

↳ aitanabonmati just alright?

↳ y/n_y/l/n okay maybe a bit more than alright?

y/n_y/l/n, aitanabonmati

liked by fcbfemeni and 39.618 others

a still tiny surprise at the end 🍼

comments

fcbfemeni felicitats, nascut per ser culer

keirawalsh i’m gonna be the favourite aunt

↳ lucybronze no, i’m definitely the cooler auntie

alexiaputellas tia ale 😍😍

janafernandez3 too cute!! can’t wait

↳ jillroord i want one too 🥺

barcafem1987 THIS IS TOO CUTEEE

wosoawfc a little culer!!

A/N i got a request for cheesy adorable aitana and reader so here it is!

[sextavas]

Tant de Bo" Suu - Un Cant a l'Alegria i l'Esperança

Tant de bo

que tu fossis com jo,🐝

i veiessis la vida més dolça i menys podrida.

Tant de bo que jo fos més com tu,

i conegués la vida d’aprop,🐝

perquè portes anys escrivint-li cançons.

...

Canta,🐝🐝

que la vida ho demana.

La veritat m’és igual el destí,

el que vull és que caminis amb mi

[cruyffista]

Felicitats Masia!: vintage documentary on the cohort of La Masia at the time (footage from 1987).

[negreabsolut]

«L’ésser humà no troba pau i felicitat enlloc, si no és en el seu propi Montserrat.»

~Goethe~

[archivingbarca]

fcbarcelona: His first MVP 🤩🔥

Felicitats, @.lamineyamal! 💎

(ig, 11/12/24)

[talkingwoso]

Felicitat 😁