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Now we go to London. One goal doesn’t mean this is over.
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wtf. fuck.
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same mapi.
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whatever it is you need good luck for, i wish you good luck. tests, job, home life, social life, mental health, physical health, love life. you name it. this post is wishing you good luck on all of that.
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pie with meat in it. 10/10 aussie lunch or dinner. 15/10 at a footy game🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺🦘
alright this question is one for my Aussie moots and my Aussie moots only, please help @ugotcooneycrossed and I with this dilemma. What is the CORRECT way to eat a meat pie both in adult and party form???
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can i just come out here and say can we please not spread photos of frida maanum unconscious on social media?
i’ve seen so many on tiktok and although people are sad it’s not the right execution of expressing sadness or support. it’s actually really disrespectful and dare i say insensitive af. you don’t get to gawk at her and gossip about her even though you’re sad for her. yes it is devastating and we all hope she is okay. but you are NOT doing the right thing by sharing these photos around like this is not a traumatising event for both her and her team and family. you are not making the right decisions.
“my heart is so broken for her… now i’m going to share this photo of her collapsed”. this is how it sounds. it’s gross.
PLEASE let’s all respect frida during this time. ❤️
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dawg my 8 year old self picked a club to support and i don't think its a joke anymore
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delusionallovergirl1 · 2 months
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sitting here. unkissed. when will it end
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delusionallovergirl1 · 2 months
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oh i’m terrified. this is too much
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i feel sick because there’s nothing we can do about it either.
this is exactly how players get injured. burnt out and overworked. recovery time that is next to none. STOP OVERWORKING THEM!!!
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delusionallovergirl1 · 2 months
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lucy sounds so soft today 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
Ona and Lucy have arrived
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delusionallovergirl1 · 3 months
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how did you know girlgenius1111. how did you know.
you can face this
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barça x reader
r struggles with an eating disorder. her teammates catch on.
this [obviously] contains descriptions of an eating disorder. do not read if this could be triggering to you. please, just don't.
-----
You hadn't really realized that it had gotten bad again. It was one of those things that crept on you, unconscious bad habits making a return until you had fully relapsed. It was 0-100, and it was even more complicated now that you played for Barça. Not just because of the overbearing teammates, but also because your fitness was strictly kept track of- you had to remain at a weight that wouldn't flag with the physios, or affect your strength too much. But another part of you still hated that number on the scale- it was a constant battle between those two parts of you. The rational side, trying to keep it together, and the not so rational side that didn't care what it destroyed on it's quest to be smaller.
You kept up a surprisingly strong façade. It was easier when the team wasn't traveling, and obviously more complicated when you were. You lived alone in Barcelona, in a perfect little apartment, rather close by to the homes of your teammates, namely Alexia. She liked the younger players to live nearby, so she could keep an eye on everyone, she said.
Your teammates could tell you were having a hard time; it was obvious by the way they worked harder to get a laugh out of you, how they'd show up to hangout of the blue, just because they were in the neighborhood. None of them had approached you about what was bothering you yet, and you assumed they didn't have any idea what was really going on. There were clues, though, ones you weren't aware of, that they were most certainly picking up on.
The first clues weren't much; the way you'd pick at your food whenever you ate with the team. For your part, you did well to hide the fact that every bite was painful to choke down. Still, there was just something slightly off.
It was the quieter members of the team that noticed other things, but they didn't bring them up to anyone else, not yet. Not when it was just you changing rather quickly in the locker room, or how you often showed up at team dinners claiming to have already eaten.
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The first person to really notice that something wasn't just a little off, that something was wrong, was Pina. The two of you had finally convinced Alexia to allow you to room together; previously, she'd said no, arguing that you two would inevitably get up to trouble left to your own devices. You'd worn Alexia out, though, and both you and Pina were practically giddy when she'd flashed you with a warning look and read off your names together.
You'd managed to put it out of your head, how much of a hard time you were having. Until dinner that night. It was a rough day, rougher than you were used to, and while you normally could pretend pretty well in front of the team, you didn't feel like that was possible this particular evening. You'd gone to dinner, eaten as much as you could bare, before you mumbled something to the table about having a headache, and slipping back off to your room.
You were overwhelmed, really, and feeling incredibly alone. Something deep inside of you ached, and you wanted it to stop, leave you alone, just for one night. You were so frustrated, and pathetically, so sad. You thought you would have more time before Pina came back to the room, so you gave yourself the grace to breakdown, just a little. You could shower, wash away all traces of the tears, and be back to normal by the time your roommate returned.
What you somehow forgot, however, was that Pina was, while silly and mischievous, also one of the kindest people you'd ever met. You should have known that she'd come check on you, but you were slightly preoccupied with trying to keep a handle on your breakdown.
You didn't hear the click of the key card just before the door opened, and you were caught completely off guard when Claudia stepped inside, her face scrunching with worry as she caught sight of you curled up in the cozy chair in the corner of the room, sobbing quietly into your hands.
"Amiga! What is it?" She asked, rushing over to you. "Is it your headache? Should I get a physio?"
"No, I'm fine, Pina," you replied, wiping furiously at the tears that were still insisting on spilling from your eyes.
"Why are you crying if you're fine?" Pina asked in a quieter voice, on of her hands coming to rest on your knee.
“Claudia, seriously, I’m fine.” You insisted. You looked at her, then, and you looked so devastated, Pina knew instantly that you were lying. She felt so out of her league, so unsure what to do.
“Stay here.” She said after a minute, practically sprinting out of the room.
You knew she’d come back with someone, whoever she could find to fix you. This was the a job for an older player, not her. She gave good hugs, and could always make you laugh, but you needed someone older, someone wiser.
You sighed, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop her. You could only wait, and try to calm down.
You'd stopped crying, you really had, by the time Pina returned with Mapi in tow. You were prepared to act as though your friend was being dramatic, and really, you were fine, but then Mapi walked in, looking like she'd run the whole way to your room to check on you. The serious look on her face was such a departure from how she normally acted, that you were rather thrown off. She caught sight of you sitting on the bed, your red face, the slight downturn of your lips. What really got you was the way she didn't even say anything; she simply walked closer and opened her arms.
You were moving before you could even think to remain where you were, falling easily into the older girl's arms. They wrapped tight around you, and you buried your face in her shoulder. Tears ran off your face, collecting on Mapi's sweatshirt, but she held tight to you, one arm around your back, another holding your head close against her.
"It's alright, chica, we've got you." She murmured. You allowed yourself to sink into the comfort. For a moment, pretending that you weren't keeping so much inside, hidden away from the people that cared about you. You pretended that Mapi knew what was going on, and she was holding tight to you as reassurance, an unspoken promise that you'd be alright.
She didn't know what was wrong, though, and you weren't sure you'd be alright, not really. The little bubble of comfort and safety was broken when the defender pulled back, hands on your shoulders as she looked searchingly at you.
"What happened?" She asked. Her grip on you was tight, and you knew she wouldn't let go until you answered her. Pina was visible, just over Mapi’s shoulder, fidgeting with her hands and looking on nervously. Your only possible course of action was to lie, and to lie well.
"I don't know, I think I'm about to get my period or something," you lied. "I was just kind of sad, but it's fine, I'm fine now."
Mapi didn't look convince, nor did Pina.
"Are you sure? If something is bothering me, you can tell me. Or I can get Alexia if you want," Mapi suggested, beginning to turn toward the door.
That, you absolutely could not let happen. Alexia would get the truth out of you in seconds, especially when you were already so upset.
"No, seriously Mapi, I'm fine. Don't bother Alexia." You insisted, catching her arm and spinning her back around.
She eyed you for a minute, completely straight faced, before holding out her pinky to you. "Promise you are okay?" She asked.
You rolled your eyes, but linked your pinky with hers. "I promise."
She seemed satisfied after that, and you felt guilty about lying. It was for the best, though. You didn't need to worry your teammates, not when you were fine. Not when you had everything under control. Obviously, your motivation to lie went much deeper than that; the fear that they'd make you stop was suffocating.
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You shouldn't have felt guilty for lying, because Mapi went right to Alexia anyway. The Catalan Captain miraculously had her own room, for the 4th trip that year, although no one felt brave enough to comment on it. She opened the door warily, thinking Mapi was knocking just to chat, which she got enough of during the daytime hours.
"María, I'm really tired," Alexia started, glancing longingly back at her bed, where a nighttime call with her girlfriend and a cozy blanket awaited her.
"It's about y/n. I think something's wrong."
As Mapi had predicted, she didn't need to say more before Alexia was, now wide awake, stepping to the side, motioning for the defender to walk in.
"What is it?" She demanded once the door was shut behind her.
"Pina came to get me, and she said y/n was really upset about something, but she was pretending she was fine. I went back to their room and she had stopped crying, but as soon as I gave her a hug, she started crying again. And then once she'd stopped crying, she tried to tell me she was fine, something about getting her period and being sad for no reason. She pinky promised, but she was lying, Ale, I could tell. She looked so upset, like she was barely holding it together." Mapi's worry was evident in her tone, and, like you, Alexia noted the seriousness that was present on her friend's face. It wasn't normal, and it meant that, likely, there really was something to be worried about.
"Do you have any idea what she could be upset about?"
"No, not really. She's been a little off, I guess, but I can't think of what could be wrong."
Alexia sighed, silently agreeing with Mapi that you had been acting weird, but also that she couldn't think of a reason for it.
"I'll keep an eye on her, and I'll tell a couple of the others to as well. If something else happens, we can talk to her again." Alexia decided, somewhat uneasily. She wanted to figure out what was wrong, and fix it now, but suffocating you while you were already upset probably wasn't the best idea.
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In hindsight, maybe Alexia should have done something sooner. Your behavior remained off, but nothing else occurred that would really raise any red flags. That was, until the team had a double training session, and everyone ate lunch together. You had noticed more eyes on you in the last week, and figured that Mapi had probably asked a few of the older girls to keep an eye on you.
In an effort to convince them you were fine, you forced yourself to eat a normal amount of food at lunch, more than the carefully calculated portion you were intending to consume. It was alright, at first. You were able to distract yourself, joking around with your teammates. When you glanced down at your plate, though, finding it empty, you felt a wave of horror wash over you. You had no choice, no other option. It was too much. You couldn't do this.
You slipped away from the table after a couple of minutes of trying to calm yourself down. It felt like everyone was looking at you, judging you. You made it to the bathroom and kneeled in front of the toilet.
In that moment, you hated yourself. For eating too much, for caring about eating too much. For doing this. Tears fell, unrelated to what you were forcing your body to do. You just wanted to be normal, to feel good. You wanted to look in the mirror, and not hate what you saw looking back at you. You wanted to see what everyone else apparently saw; a normal, average looking person. You hated this, hated what you were doing, but you couldn't stop. You wanted to, more than anything.
When the door creaked open, and you realized you hadn't locked the door behind you, you were caught in the worst position possible. You didn't need to look up, see the disgusted faces looking back at you, to know that you wouldn't be able to play this off. It was obvious that you weren't just ill. You were sick.
You didn't look up, couldn't look up, at whoever was at the door. You sat back against the wall, staring numbly at the floor.
"Go get Alexia. Discreetly." You heard Ingrid instruct, and you heard Aitana reply quietly before her footsteps echoed back down the hall.
The resounding emotion was shame; for being so weak, for being caught doing this. You felt so stupid. You were an athlete, you couldn't be behaving like this. At the same time, the need to lie, to not let them make you stop persisted. You were torn, completely at a loss for words. So, instead of saying something you couldn't think through all the way, you remained quiet.
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Aitana ran like there was a fire to the cafeteria, only slowing to a walk when she neared the doors. Her heart ached for you, truly. You'd looked so destroyed, the hatred you held for yourself clear on your face. She sped walk to where Alexia was sitting, making eye contact as the blonde turned towards her on instinct, as if sensing that something wasn't right. Mapi was on her other side, and she'd known something was wrong the second she saw her girlfriend go after you, but she'd been deep in conversation with Irene, and she hadn't wanted to overreact.
Aitana leaned down, speaking quietly in Alexia's ear. "Come with me, it's y/n."
Alexia nodded once, her expression firm as she stood. As if they were 2 ducklings following their mother, Mapi and Irene rose too, following their captain and Aitana out into the hall. They stopped just outside the doors looking expectantly at the younger player.
Aitana worried her lip in between her teeth, looking intensely at Alexia. She didn't want to say what was going on, not in front of the other girls. Ingrid had told her to get Alexia, and to be discreet. You didn't need a crowd of people.
"What happened?" Alexia asked after a minute, her voice anxious.
"I... Ingrid told me to get you, and to be discreet." Aitana's gaze flickered to the other girls, and the blonde captain caught her meaning.
"Mapi, Irene, go back inside, I'll take care of it."
They both began to protest, but Alexia remained resolute, shaking her head at them. "No, Ingrid said just me. Whatever is going on we don't need to overwhelm her." The other girls turned, sighing dramatically, walking back into the cafeteria.
Alexia fixed her gaze back on Aitana, wordlessly asking for more information.
"Ingrid and I followed her to the bathroom, and we heard her getting sick. Ingrid opened the door, it wasn't locked, and she was... she was making herself..." Aitana trailed off uncomfortably.
The pieces started to fall together for Alexia, and she didn't need the younger woman to say anything else.
"Okay. Okay. Thank you, Tana. I'll make sure she's okay."
Aitana nodded nervously, watching after her captain as the blonde made her way down the hall and towards the bathroom that the brunette had indicated.
-----
To your surprise, Ingrid didn't try to make you talk. Her and Aitana had watched you leave the room, and worried that you were ill or something, with the look on your face. They'd followed you, hovering outside the bathroom door, before trying the handle. Ingrid hadn't expected what she found, and she wasn't exactly sure what to do. All she knew was that you needed help.
She shut the door behind her, locking it this time, before grabbing a paper towel. She got it wet with warm water, before carefully approaching you. Ingrid flushed the toilet, before lifting your chin to face her. You shut your eyes, unable to really look at her. You couldn't see how disgusted with you she was; that would be it. That would shatter you beyond repair.
Ingrid carefully wiped your mouth off, before taking your hand in hers, and wiping your fingers off too. The action made you inhale sharply. She knew, she'd seen. You knew she had, but the silent acknowledgement made you sick to your stomach all over again.
The Norwegian disposed of the paper towel, turning towards the door when a quiet knock sounded. You clenched your jaw, clenched your fists, dreading the conversation you knew your captain was about to force you to have.
You didn't want a lecture. You knew what you were doing wasn't okay, wasn't healthy. You knew, and you did it anyway. Because, despite what you told yourself, it wasn't about being healthy. It was about looking the way you thought you should.
Alexia entered, taking in Ingrid's troubled expression, before her eyes fell to you. You looked hopeless, completely embarrassed, and Alexia wanted to fix it. Make you understand that you didn't have to be embarrassed, not with her. She wanted to promise that everything would be okay, that she'd make sure that you were okay. She wanted you to let her in, finally, admit that you were hurting.
None of these things were conversations to be had in the bathroom, though. Alexia walked forward, holding out a hand down to you. Slowly, you raised your head to look at her. There wasn't any revulsion evident on her face, and even though you wanted to run, hide, pretend that this wasn't happening, you knew you couldn't do that.
You took Alexia's hand, allowing her to pull you to your feet. She was steady where you were shaky, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and leading you out of the bathroom. She stopped briefly, looking down at you.
"Do you want Ingrid to come, or would you rather talk just the two of us?" She asked softly.
Your eyes flickered to Ingrid, not wanting to hurt her feelings when she'd been so kind, but also thinking that you couldn't handle talking to more than one person about what was going on. It was horribly overwhelming enough as it was.
Ingrid caught your hesitance, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "It's alright, elskling. You talk with Ale, okay? And maybe later you can come over and have a movie night with me and María?"
You half smiled at her, as it was all you could manage, a smile she returned, before she headed the opposite way down the hall.
Alexia tightened her grip around you, like she was a little afraid you were going to run. To be fair, you'd considered it, but the tight hold your captain had on you had shut that option down. She led you through the maze of hallways, eventually finding a room that seemed to meet her requirements. It was a little relaxation lounge, one no one ever used as it wasn't very big, and the team kind of stuck together.
Alexia sat down next to you on one of the sofa's, and you appreciated that she didn't sit in the chair across the room; that would have felt terrifying like a therapy session, and you definitely weren't there yet.
"How long has this been going on?" Alexia asked. Her question startled you, having been sure she was going to try to make you talk first. She liked to do that, feeling like important discussions with her teammates were more successful when they steered the conversation. However, Alexia knew you wouldn't steer it anywhere helpful.
"How long has what been going on?" You replied, instantly regretting the words. Why had you said that? Alexia was aware that you knew what she was asking about, and she wouldn't let you get away with playing dumb.
Shaking her head, she spoke firmly. "No, we are not going to do that. Aitana and Ingrid saw, pequeña. We have to talk about this."
"I don't want to." You murmured, resting your head in your hands. You didn't. You would have done practically anything to avoid it.
"I know." Alexia told you sympathetically, rubbing her hand up and down your back. "We have to, though. I care about you way too much to not do anything about this." Ale paused. "When did it start?"
"It was bad when I was younger, a teenager. And I went to therapy, and I was doing well for a while. I'm not really sure what happened, why it started again."
Alexia didn't miss that you didn't answer her question. "When did it start?" She asked again.
You sighed, head still hidden away in your hands. "A few weeks ago. It wasn't that bad at first, I didn't notice. And then it was, and it was too late, I couldn't fix it."
"Why?" Alexia asked next.
You shook your head, even as the words threatened to spill out; the words that harassed you, that tainted every meal.
"Come on, pequeña. I am not going to judge you, just tell me."
Often, Alexia was seen as this intimidating, hardcore player. She'd do anything for her teammates, though, and she was capable of extreme kindness. If you were lucky enough to know Ale, to really know her, you knew how good she was. Maybe it was this, one of the best people you knew begging you to talk to her, that made you relent.
"I... I hate the way that I look. I hate it." Your words were dripping with self loathing. Alexia understood the unspoken words; you hated yourself.
There were a lot of things Alexia wanted to tell you, but didn't, not yet. She'd need them in the future, when the urge returned, and you fought against it. She'd need the reminders then.
Instead, she coaxed your face away from your hands, looking intently at you as she spoke.
"You cannot keep doing this. You know that. As your captain, and as your friend, cariño, you need help. We need to get you help."
Your eyes began to well with tears. Alexia took a shaky breath.
"And I know you do not want it, but you deserve it. Can you let me get you help, pequeña? Please?"
You considered for a couple moments. "What if I can't get better? What if... what if I can't?"
Above all, that was your biggest fear. Not being strong enough to beat it. It was why you resisted help; you didn't want to let everyone down if you failed. You wanted to be strong enough, you just weren't convinced you were. You were weak enough to start this, to fall into the horrible loop, to begin with.
"You will, cariño. You know how I know?"
You looked at her, eyes wide and watery. "How?" Your voice cracked, and Alexia took one of your hands in hers.
"Because you do not give up. You are one of the strongest people I know." You looked doubtful, still. "And I don't give up. I will not give up on you. We will get you better, together. You will not have to do any of it alone."
"Do you promise?" You asked, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as you blinked at the blonde.
Alexia didn't say anything, she just held out her pinky towards you. You linked your pinkie with hers, and knew, somewhere deep within you, that this wasn't a promise she was going to break.
-----
Alexia did end up telling you all of the things she'd thought of, eventually. She wrote them down in a little note on her phone, not wanting to forget what to say, not when you needed her. Your teammates, the ones who knew, who you trusted enough to let know, used them too.
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That it didn't matter what you looked like, being so unkind to your body was never acceptable.
Alexia told you this one evening she spent at your house, after you'd had a long therapy session. You'd arrived home, dissolving into tears, and somehow, she had known you'd needed her.
She showed up on your doorstep like some kind of magical being that could sense when her friends were sad, letting you cry into her for at least an hour.
She'd whispered the words into your hair, when you asked her if she thought getting better was worth it, if it was so painful.
You believed her, that day. Just a little.
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She loved you, and there was nothing to be embarrassed about, or ashamed of.
She told you this a week later when you slipped up, and you'd called her from your bathroom floor, words unintelligible through your sobs. Alexia dropped everything to come over, and spent a while promising you that relapsing didn't make you a bad person. That you were doing your best, and that was all you could expect from yourself. That relapses were a part of recovering, as much as it sucked.
When she said the words, you believed her, a bit more this time. She'd been at your apartment before you could really even get any words out. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't care, if she was disgusted with you. If she didn't love you like she said she did.
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Being healthy, above all else, was what mattered, and what you'd been doing wasn't.
This was Ingrid and Mapi. You'd gone over to their house for dinner, which proved to be challenging. You confessed how guilty you felt for eating enough, and how guilty you felt for not eating enough. It was hard to figure out what the right thing was, when everything felt like the wrong decision.
Mapi spoke these words to you, sounding wiser and more sure than you'd ever heard her. You trusted Mapi, you trusted Ingrid. If they said that what you were doing wasn't healthy, they weren't lying. Another piece of you got better that day, even as it was one of the hardest you faced.
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You were beautiful, and strong, and your body allowed you to play the sport you loved.
You lost count of who told you this one. Irene, Lucy, Alexia, Ingrid, Mapi, Pina. It became something of a mantra, something they'd make you repeat when they saw you having a bad day.
Because, above all, you loved football.
You learned to love your body for allowing you to play football.
You learned to love your body just for being itself, regardless of what it looked like.
You learned to love yourself, to not put so much pressure on everything you did.
You healed, slowly. You knew, without a doubt, that you couldn't have done it without the team. You didn't want to conceive of a world where you would have to struggle alone, because you weren't. As long as they were around, you never would be.
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it's a good thing i have therapy tomorrow!
i joke, although i do have therapy tomorrow.
getting better is so worth it. i promise.
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delusionallovergirl1 · 3 months
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I can’t live anymore. I’m back to hating my existence. I got out of this feeling for a couple months and I tried so hard to stay in that good place. People make being happy seem easy, like it comes naturally. But that’s not true, at least not for me, happiness is exhausting, happiness is hard work especially when you feel at home in your sadness.
At least I tried, right? There’s so much I want to do in life but I don’t think I can do it. I’m tired. I hate myself and I know I’ll never love myself or be the person I always wished I was. I would do anything to be little again. My first crush, I miss making my best friend go to the park with me to see him play baseball. I miss playing Minecraft with my best friend and sneakily playing GTA 5. I miss playing 3ds and making snow hills in the winter and sliding down on a foldable table. I miss planning my future and being happy about it, whereas now planning my future feels like the hardest thing ever. I tried so hard to stay happy, for awhile I wanted to live again.
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delusionallovergirl1 · 3 months
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fuckin oath!
like if you’re gonna plagiarize, at least try to make it better than what you’re stealing from. when you steal an idea and it’s worse than the original… it’s even more embarrassing for you.
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delusionallovergirl1 · 3 months
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me rn
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… because lw6 is BACK
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delusionallovergirl1 · 3 months
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crying. my love.
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delusionallovergirl1 · 3 months
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Why did whoever’s in charge decide to give me the amazing gift of chronic nausea mixed with emetophobia
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delusionallovergirl1 · 3 months
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oh my god goodness gracious me great saints good heavens.
ona photo of the year. oh my fuck me dead
@repulsiveliquidation mate. look at this
ona you’re spanish i’m spanish let’s kiss
i’m half english ona so i’m technically half lucy bronze
onaaaaaa
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