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#Here We Are
onsomenewsht · 3 days
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Helpless to the bass and faded light
About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking
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》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said
You don’t like football.
It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.
Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.
Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.
You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.
The things you do to make your parents proud.
How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.
“Pretty please, just this one”
“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.
You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.
“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.
The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.
Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.
“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”
She can.
“It’s a really important game, my love”
“For who?”
“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.
“I barely bear you playing”
“You love watching me play”
“I love you, period”
Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.
It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.
What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.
The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.
When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.
~
You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.
The things you do to make your lover happy.
“You know I love you, right?”
“You better never forget this”, you quip back.
The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.
She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.
“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”
Nice try, you will not.
“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”
“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.
Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.
Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.
They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.
You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.
The one thing you all have in common.
“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”
Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.
“He sounds like an incredible father”
“Football obsession aside, he was good”
When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.
~
The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.
Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.
The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.
You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.
“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.
Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.
When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.
At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.
Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.
You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.
fine.
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remorner · 1 day
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i love him
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iceeericeee · 6 months
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Reblog if you think polyamorous people are valid
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polarsirens · 1 year
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short rest
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ato-dato · 9 months
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I found my one and only gomens fanart from 2019 so it had to be redone. Naturally.
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gramnel · 6 months
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furiosophie · 21 days
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critter-of-habit · 1 year
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Delighted that I have enough characters to draw this 'What If' scenario now 🙌
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happyheidi · 8 months
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𝗂𝗀: 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗄𝗈𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗈
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decaflondonfog · 8 months
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you know what i’d like to see? i’d like to see Andrew realise what Neil’s duffle bag means to him. that he’s carried his entire life inside that bag for years. that, after all, they’re not that different — it’s not like Andrew got to take much from foster home to foster home.
i want Andrew to start buying random things for Neil. little things, big things, unimportant things. small trinkets that don’t mean much, except they mean that Neil’s whole life can’t be packed into a bag anymore. that he can’t just run in the middle of the night.
by the time Andrew graduates it would take a whole moving truck to ever put all of Neil’s belongings in. and they’re scattered too. Neil has stuff that is his — only his — not just at PSU, but at the house in Columbia, and at Andrew’s new place too.
so when Andrew graduates — through kisses and promises and badly-hidden sniffles — he gets rid of the old duffle, and replaces it with a beautiful leather holdall (something good enough for Neil) so that Neil can pack his stuff and come see him on weekends or during break.
and Neil can’t fit not even a tenth of his things in it, but that’s okay because this bag isn’t a tool to help him run and hide. but it fits just enough for him to come and see Andrew: for him to come home.
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mcelroyfamilystaff · 4 months
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COMING SOON: The Adventure Zone Vs. Dracula
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thcrin · 1 year
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The Mummy (1999) | dir. Stephen Sommers
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e-turn · 3 months
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What does a perfect romantic date look like? :)
One Direction - Night Changes
(click for better quality!)
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kolaicendionysos · 1 year
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our dining table episode 7
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v-toast · 1 year
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two pixels tall and proud
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ofswordsandpens · 7 months
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imagine writing this. imagine writing percy increasingly losing himself to his anger and his resentment, sympathizing with Luke, spiraling, being immensely powerful, burning away at his mortality, and not knowing how to deal with any of it. Desperate for help and the one time he breaks down enough to try and get it (Jason) his worst thoughts and perceptions of himself are inadvertently affirmed. He never talks about it to Annabeth. He never talks about it to his mom. Oh but everyone is aware of it. Aware of his anger. Afraid of his anger. Concerned for him and by him. They give each other looks, worried, because they recognize what a danger he could be — to himself, to others, to the gods. But no one says anything, at least not to Percy. No one helps him. No one intervenes. They don't know how to, it seems. (Or maybe they're afraid to). And so they all pretend everything is fine. Percy pretends, bottling it all up inside until the pressure gets too great and that anger boils over and he loses it all over again. He's so desperate for normalcy that he'll take anything, believes in all of the sweet, sugar-spun tales of New Rome and looks away from the rotting underside. He lets himself believe that once he's there the gods will have to leave him alone, because he's done with it all, he's retired (and the gods always keep their promises don't they?).
Imagine writing what is arguably the well-plotted, compelling, and tragic beginnings of a fallen hero arc for percy and none of it being intentional.
RR's penchant for Percy to be explosively angry and scarily powerful, alongside characterizing him as jaded and resentful and desperate, mixed with his refusal to write any in-depth emotional resolution to any time Percy snaps has created an enthralling narrative of a hero just about to fall from grace. and it's all seemingly an accident.
Oh, and another, amazing, unintentional coincidence? if you're taking RR's word that Percy is still 17, that's also the age Luke was when he failed his quest, marking the beginning of his fall as a hero. Like. The narrative parallels are all there. And without any meaning for them to be.
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