#leah's stories

[mead-iocre]

Pay Attention To Me | Leah Williamson x Reader 

synopsis: do you know what's worse than dating a football player? dating a football fan.

warnings: brief mention of sex

wc: 2.5k words

Sometimes you wonder to yourself what possessed you to date a footballer. You weren’t athletic or sporty, and unlike your athlete brothers, you didn’t enjoy any sport enough to stick to it. Your only means of exercise was pilates and the occasional trip to the beach in your cute bikini. 

So how did you end up dating a professional footballer? 

You found yourself thinking about that question as you sit curled up on one end of the leather sofa browsing the Chanel website on your laptop. On the other end of the sofa, with her legs sprawled out and a beer bottle in one hand, sat your girlfriend. Leah was dressed in a grey hoodie and matching grey joggers; her hair was down, which was a rarity these days due to the heat, streaks of light blonde strands framing her pretty face. From your place on the sofa, you are granted the most breathtaking view of the ocean thanks to the expansive glass walls. The horizon stretches as far as the eye can see; the sky painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple. As the sun begins to set, it casts a golden glow over the water, making the waves glimmer and sparkle.

The villa was gorgeous, and exactly like how the pictures showed it to be. You had chosen the place yourself, tempted by the promises of walking out onto the deck and being able to jump into crystal clear waters. The spacious overwater bungalow features polished wooden floors, high vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, and furnishings in soft, neutral tones complemented by cool-tone vibrant accents. When you showed pictures of the villa to your girlfriend, she took once glance at it and handed you her gold amex card. She didn’t even ask you for the price. 

Back to your own question earlier, the short answer was that Leah was attractive as hell. She was also everything you could ask for in a partner. She's got a cracking sense of humour, she's passionate about her job, family-orientated, and it didn’t hurt that she was the most gorgeous woman you had ever laid eyes on. She made sure to spend as much time with you around her busy schedule. She accepted that you were high-matainance, and gladly indulged you. Leah was the whole package. Sometimes as you lay in bed, when the night is still and quiet, you would take a moment to thank your lucky stars that she walked into your life. 

However, no one in this world is perfect– even someone like Leah Williamson.

Your girlfriend’s biggest flaw was that she is a football player–and by extension– that meant she was a football fan.

And that was the problem. 

Today was the 2024 Euros final. England somehow managed to slither their way to the tournament final and will be facing Spain to compete for the title of Champions of Europe 2024. The original plan was to head over to the Williamson’s house so everyone could watch the game together. However, your birthday happened to fall in the week leading up to the final. As a birthday gift from your very generous girlfriend, Leah had surprised you with a week-long trip to the Maldives. Her only condition was that she gets to watch the Euros final at the villa 

Uninterrupted. 

And being the good girlfriend that you are, you were more than happy to compromise. That is until you realise that Leah has pretty much ignored you the entire day. 

Well– maybe ignore is the wrong term. She was acting the same this morning– ordering a breakfast spread fit for champions by the time you woke up, booking a luxury spa treatment for the both of you at the resort, and even letting you run wild with her card at the nearby mall where there’s a strip of high-end stores with names like Cartier, Vacheron Constantin, and Dior. You came strutting back to the villa in your new pair of Jimmy Choo kitten heels, while Leah trails behind you, her arms full of shopping bags– all of them belonging to you.

However, you were what other people would call clingy. You craved attention and affection more than the usual person. Physical touch was your love language, and most of the time, your girlfriend was more than happy to meet your needs. 

But not today it seems. 

She was far too busy watching a bunch of men on telly chase a ball around a field of freshly cut grass to pay enough attention to you.

Finally getting board of looking at bags and shoes on your laptop, you shut it down and put it aside. Stretching one leg over the length of the cream white sofa, you nudge Leah with your foot. “Lee…”

Without even moving her eyes away from the screen, your girlfriend just hums in reply. Rude.

Another nudge with your freshly manicured toes. “Leah”

Finally he blonde turns to you, grasping your foot with one hand effectively putting an end to your incessant poking. “What, baby?”

“I’m bored” You pout at her. 

“Then watch the game, darling” She tilts her head towards the 85” Samsung TV that is mounted on the wall. Her hand was now lightly massaging your foot and your calves, probably sensing how tense you are. 

You groan in reply, your head falling backwards dramatically. “That's exactly what’s boring me, Lee” 

Leah just smiles, but it’s a bit strained. She just wants to watch the game, and you’re making it hard for her to focus. She’s usually used to your indifference for the sport that she happens to make a career out of. You only "enjoyed" football when your girlfriend was playing. You attended all her matches and would cheer loudly for her when she's on the pitch. Whenever Leah would drag you along with to watch football matches as a spectator with her, you would reluctantly agree– after many kisses and promises of shopping afterwards– and armed with the latest copy of Vogue to pass the time. If she wasn’t on the pitch, you did not care.

You sneak a peek at her, wanting to see if she would indulge you further, but she was already turning her attention back to the TV. Stupid tv. 

You rattle your foot that is still under her hand. You didn’t know where this was coming from but you had enough of being pushed aside for a game of football. “Leah!” 

And that’s when she snaps. 

“Fucking hell– would it kill you to be quiet! Can’t you see I’m trying to watch the match, mate?” She gestures wildly at the tv. Her eye brows were drawn together, the skin between them wrinkled. When she looked at you again, her gaze was intense– piercing almost.

You glare back at her, hoping she can feel your wrath from her peripheral since she has once agin directed her eyes back to the tv. “m’not your mate” 

You huff audibly, snatching your foot back from her grasp. You could feel the annoyance bubbling up inside you. Sure, you had both compromised that Leah gets to spend one day to watch the game uninterrupted. And yes, you did get your girlfriend all to yourself during the last five days, but you couldn’t understand why she was pushing you away like this. You were being selfish, but who wouldn't be when their girlfriend is being uncharacteristically mean about it.

When you were in one of your moods, you had a habit of muttering under your breath when things don't go your way, making scathing, albeit humorous, remarks. It wasn’t long before the sounds of you grumbling under your breath could be heard by your now equally moody girlfriend. 

“bloody football…this was supposed to be a birthday trip yet my girlfriend is spending time watching ugly men kick a ball around��we could’ve been snorkelling and exploring the reefs or having sex on a yacht but nooooooo apparently football is more interesting”

Sometimes Leah found it cute but other times, like today, your grumbling was annoying and it was distracting her from the game. The blonde just wants an hour or two to watch football uninterrupted, yet you can't even give her that. She smacks her hand down hard on the sofa, startling you and putting an end to your angry muttering. Leah turns to you and glares. “If you want to keep grumbling like that go do it somewhere else. You’re actually fucking pissing me off. don't know why I even put up with you” She groans the last bit as she rubs her forehead like you were some sort of nuisance to her.  

That did it. 

You were annoyed at the lack of affection from your girlfriend, and the same person that you wanted attention from was now mad at you. You glare at her right back, but your eyes were starting to water and you were getting the sniffles.

Wrestling the blanket off your lap like you were fighting an alligator, you swing your legs off the sofa, ready to stomp to the room and slam the door like a mature lady when Leah grabs your arm before you can move. “Sorry. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, baby” 

You angrily wipe away a traitorous tear as it slides down your cheek, trying to shake off the blonde’s grip but she holds firm. She moves to stand on her own two feet until she’s standing in front of you. Leah crouches down slightly, forcing your eyes to meet her blue ones. She frowns when she notices your tear stained cheeks. “Darling…hey, look at me, please”

You meet her eyes, albeit reluctantly. She rewards your effort with a kiss on your wet cheek. “I didn’t mean it. Don’t cry, please. You’re breaking my heart, baby” 

“Oyarzabal…Cucurella! 2-1 SPAIN!! Time is running out and Spain are nearly there. Oyarzabal hooks the ball out left to Cucurella, who beats a flagging Walker with a lovely diagonal ball into the box.The substitute is stretching ahead of Stones, having timed his run to perfection in between England's two centre-backs, and slides to put Spain back in front. This might just be it for England…”

Shit.

You head snapped towards the tv in shock, your annoyance disappearing. While you weren't personally rooting for any of the two teams, your English girlfriend was rooting for England so you automatically were rooting for England too. Not that you would ever admit it out loud.

You were anticipating a slew of cursed words from the Milton Keynes native, but her eyes had not left your face once, far too concerned about making sure you were okay. You were her number one priority, always. 

Taking a step closer to her, you rub the sides of her waist lightly. It was your turn to comfort your girlfriend. You hug her, pressing your head against her chest to listen to the rhythmic beating of her heart. It’s soothing and familiar, and any lingering feelings of frustration have completely disappeared. 

“The lads can pull one back” You say to her, peeking at the time running at the left top corner of the screen. Your girlfriend still hasn't said anything and you assume it's because she's sad about the score. “They’ve still got 10 minutes to equalise– plus additional time to play.” Just because you weren’t the biggest football fan out there did not mean you didn’t understand how the sport works. 

“Quit thinking about the match for a minute, baby, I don’t care about them right now. Are you sure you’re okay?” Leah pulls back slightly, cupping your face gently, and you lean into the warmth of her palms. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Lee. I was just been silly” You pucker your lips up at her, and she grants your request with a grin. She kisses you once, and then again, pecking your lips repeatedly like she can’t get enough of you. 

You give her one more kiss, giving her a sharp bite on her lower lip before you pull away completely. Leah frowns at that, her eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. 

“I’m going to grab my laptop and watch Desperate Housewives out on the hammock. I’ll leave you to your football–alone– so you can focus.”

“What no. Baby, you can’t leave me when we’re one nil down during a Euros final” Leah gestures animatedly at the TV, the scoreline still showing Spain in the lead. “Stay with me. Watch your show right here with me” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

Without waiting for you to reply, Leah began pulling you by the hand back to the sofa. She sat down, tugging you onto her lap. You just laugh, not even bothering to reach for your abandoned laptop on the other side of the sofa. You snuggle into her, your chest pressed together, tucking your face into the crook of her neck. Just because you agreed to stay with her, doesn’t mean you were interested in watching the match. 

A buzzing from the inside of your short’s pocket startles you slightly. You glance at the screen, reading the text, and then gasp. 

“love, my Chanel sales associate is asking me if I’d like to book an appointment at their store to see their new collection! There’s actually a cute bag that I've been thinking about…"

Leah hums, distracted slightly, not even looking at the phone screen that you are practically shoving into her face. “Yeah, we can get your bag once we arrive back home” 

You squeal, already texting your sales associate to go ahead and book you in. 

“–only if England win it” The typing stops and your heart drops. Your celebration cut short. 

“w-what…b-but, love…” You look up at her to see if she was serious, and to your dismay there's not a hint of playfulness in her gaze. She's serious. Glancing back at the screen, you see England have only 5 minutes left to equalise if they want to play for additional time, but the seconds are ticking by quickly. 

Scrambling off your girlfriend’s lap, you take your place beside her on the sofa instead. You have never been more motivated to cheer for a team your girlfriend was not playing for. Mustering all the manifestation in the universe, and your desperate need for that Chanel medium 25cm double flap shoulder bag in pink quilted lambskin leather with silver metal trim, you shout from the top of your voice “C’mon, England!!”

Leah just laughs loudly beside you, yelling and whooping too. 

However, sports can be a cruel thing sometimes.

England did not end up winning the Euros, much to the dismay of your girlfriend— and probably an entire nation. However, you got your bag anyway. Leah could never say no to you. She would give you the entire world if you asked for it, but luckily all you wanted is a pink Chanel bag– for now. 

More spoilt!reader x Leah because you all seem to enjoy her.

I wrote this the day after the Euros and then abandoned it because I got stuck and experience a writer's block halfway lol. Hope it still delivered.

-- kisses, butter.

[millyh23]

Out of My League

Leah Williamson x Reader

Word count: 3k

_________________________________________________

It had been a few months since you and Leah had made your relationship public. It wasn’t exactly planned, but after a particularly passionate post-match celebration where you’d jumped into her arms in front of the cameras, there was no hiding it anymore.

The reaction from the fans had been… intense, to say the least.

You’d always known people found you attractive; it wasn’t something that ever really mattered to you, but it became impossible to ignore when your name started trending on social media after every game. Whether it was because of your play or your looks, the fans seemed infatuated, and their comments ranged from flattering to downright objectifying.

Leah, on the other hand, never made a big deal out of it. She knew who you were beneath the spotlight, and that’s what she cared about. But there was one person who never missed an opportunity to remind her just how “lucky” she was.

Katie McCabe.

Katie had taken on the role of the team’s designated teaser from the moment she found out about you and Leah. And while it had started out as harmless banter, recently it had become a bit of a sore spot.

You were all at a team dinner one evening, seated at a long table in one of your favorite London restaurants. The food was good, the wine was flowing, and the team was in high spirits after a string of wins. You were sitting next to Leah, her hand resting casually on your thigh under the table, while Katie sat across from you both, already with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“So, Y/N,” Katie started, her Irish accent cutting through the chatter at the table. “How does it feel being with the best center-back in the world?” She winked at Leah, and for a second, you thought she might let it go there. But no, this was Katie.

Leah tensed beside you, her grip on your thigh tightening slightly. You shot her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand under the table. She always tried to brush off Katie’s teasing, but you could tell it was starting to get to her.

Katie, oblivious to Leah’s discomfort, continued with a grin. “Honestly, Leah, you’re punching, aren’t you? I mean, have you seen Y/N? Half the league’s in love with her. Fair play to ya for locking that down!”

The table burst into laughter, and you chuckled along, though you could feel Leah shifting uncomfortably next to you.

“C’mon, Katie,” you said with a playful smirk, trying to defuse the situation. “Leah’s got plenty of admirers too, you know.”

Katie leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smug grin. “Oh, sure, but let’s be real—Y/N’s on another level. You’re like the footballing world’s version of a supermodel. Poor Leah must be sweating every time you walk into a room full of players.”

The laughter continued, but this time you felt Leah pull her hand away from your thigh. You glanced over at her, her jaw was tight, and she wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Katie, that’s enough,” Leah said quietly, her voice strained.

But Katie, never one to back down, just raised an eyebrow. “What? Can’t handle the truth, Leah?”

Leah stood up so quickly that her chair scraped loudly against the floor, causing everyone to stop and look at her in surprise. “I’m going for some air,” she muttered, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as she stormed out of the restaurant.

You sat there, stunned, as the rest of the table fell silent. Katie looked around, clearly surprised by Leah’s reaction. “What? I was only having a laugh.”

You frowned, pushing your chair back and standing up. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s not funny, Katie,” you said, giving her a hard look before following Leah outside.

You found Leah outside the restaurant, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed as she stared out into the street. The cool night air did little to calm the tension radiating off her, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say.

“Leah,” you called softly, approaching her cautiously. “You okay?”

She didn’t look at you right away. Her jaw was clenched, and when she finally turned to face you, you could see the frustration and vulnerability in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

You shook your head, stepping closer and gently reaching for her hand. “You don’t have to apologize. Katie was out of line.”

Leah sighed, pulling her hand back and pacing a few steps away from you. “It’s not just Katie,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “It’s… everything. The fans, the comments, the constant reminders that you’re… you, and I’m just…” She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

You frowned, stepping forward and placing a hand on her arm to stop her pacing. “Leah, don’t do that. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

She shook her head, her frustration bubbling over. “But it’s true, isn’t it? You’re Y/N. Everyone’s obsessed with you, and I can’t go anywhere without hearing how I’m ‘punching above my weight.’”

You blinked, taken aback by the raw emotion in her voice. “Leah, I didn’t know it bothered you this much.”

“Of course, it bothers me!” she snapped, and then immediately softened, as if regretting her outburst. She rubbed her temples, sighing heavily. “I know it’s stupid. I know none of it should matter, but… sometimes I feel like I’m constantly being compared to you, and I’m always coming up short.”

Your heart sank at her words. You had no idea Leah had been feeling this way, and now you felt a surge of guilt for not noticing sooner.

“Leah, look at me,” you said gently, taking both of her hands in yours and pulling her closer. “I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re not ‘punching.’ I love you, and I’m with you because of who you are, not because of what anyone else thinks.”

Leah’s eyes met yours, and you could see the conflict in them—part of her wanted to believe you, but the insecurities were still gnawing at her.

“I just…” she began, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want to feel like I’m not enough for you.”

That hit you hard. You took a deep breath and stepped even closer, cupping her face in your hands. “Leah, you are more than enough. You’re everything. I don’t care what the fans say, or what Katie jokes about. They don’t know us. They don’t know how much you mean to me.”

She searched your eyes for a moment, her walls starting to crumble. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re strong, kind, beautiful, and more than anything, you make me happy. And that’s what matters.”

Leah’s lips trembled slightly, and she let out a shaky breath as she pulled you into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into your shoulder. “I didn’t mean to blow up like that.”

You hugged her back just as tightly, running your hand up and down her back in soothing strokes. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry for not realizing how much this was bothering you.”

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes softening as she gave you a small, apologetic smile. “I guess I just let it all build up.”

“I get it,” you said, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “But from now on, you can talk to me about these things, okay? No more bottling it up.”

Leah nodded, her forehead resting against yours. “Okay. I promise.”

You smiled, brushing your thumb over her cheek before leaning in to kiss her softly. When you pulled back, her smile was more genuine, and the tension in her shoulders had finally started to ease.

“I love you,” she said quietly, her voice full of sincerity.

“I love you too,” you replied, pressing another kiss to her lips. “And don’t worry, I’ll deal with Katie.”

Leah let out a small laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “Good luck with that.”

After your heart-to-heart with Leah, you knew you couldn’t just let Katie keep teasing her without consequences. Leah might have forgiven Katie’s relentless jokes, but you weren’t about to let her off that easily. If Katie wanted to joke about someone “punching above their weight,” then maybe it was time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

The opportunity presented itself just a couple of days later during training. The team had been doing some drills, but the mood was light—everyone was in high spirits after winning their last few matches. You’d been watching Katie all session, waiting for the perfect moment, and it finally came during the cool-down, when everyone gathered around for a few minutes of stretching and chatting.

Katie, as usual, was at the center of it all, making jokes and keeping the team entertained. But this time, you had a plan.

You casually strolled over, sitting down beside Leah and stretching your legs out in front of you. Leah raised an eyebrow at the mischievous glint in your eyes but didn’t say anything. She knew you well enough to know something was up.

As the team began to chatter, you leaned over and nudged Katie with a grin.

“Hey, McCabe,” you called out, making sure your voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. “How’s it feel dating the most attractive player on the team?”

Katie turned to you, confused at first, but then a cocky smirk appeared on her face. “Ha, as if you’re talking about yourself there, Y/N. But, to be fair, I do have the best left foot in the league.”

You grinned wider, ignoring the jab. “No, no. I mean, your girlfriend, yeah? How’s it feel knowing you’re punching way above your weight? Fair play to her, sticking around with you. What a catch.”

The laughter that rippled through the team was immediate. Katie’s face faltered for just a second, and you saw her eyes narrow as she realized what was happening. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of these kinds of jokes.

“Oi, watch it, Y/N. Don’t be getting cocky now,” Katie shot back, but the slight pink tinge to her cheeks told you she wasn’t as cool as she was pretending to be.

“Oh, come on, Katie. We’ve all seen your missus during practice,” you continued, turning the teasing dial up a notch. “Pretty sure if your girlfriend saw your left foot in action, she’d start questioning her life choices.”

More laughter. The whole team was eating it up. Even Leah, who was trying to keep a straight face beside you, couldn’t help the small grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

Katie folded her arms, trying to maintain her tough exterior, but you could see the cracks starting to show. “That’s rich, coming from you, Y/N. At least I don’t trip over my own feet in front of the cameras.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, ready for that one. “True, but I don’t have to worry about that. You’ve got your hands full with everyone wondering how you managed to convince your girlfriend not to trade up.”

The team howled with laughter, some of them clutching their sides as they keeled over, and even the coaching staff was smirking. Katie’s face was now fully red, and she threw you a glare that could have burned a hole through the field. But deep down, you knew she wasn’t really angry. Embarrassed? Yes. But angry? Not quite.

“Well, at least I’m not using my partner to prop up my ego,” Katie shot back, trying to recover, but her voice wasn’t as steady as it usually was.

You gave her a dramatic wink, leaning back on your hands as if you hadn’t just dismantled her reputation in front of the whole team. “No need to be jealous, McCabe. Just know Leah’s still mine, and I’m the one who’s got a catch.”

Katie opened her mouth, probably to throw another quip, but before she could, Leah chimed in.

“Careful, Katie,” Leah said, her voice calm but playful. “You don’t want to make Y/N feel too good about herself, or I might start feeling insecure again.”

Katie shot Leah a look, her eyes wide with mock betrayal. “Oh, don’t you start, too! I’m just trying to have a laugh!”

Leah grinned, clearly enjoying the rare moment of seeing Katie squirm. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s not so funny when you’re the one getting picked on, is it?”

Katie was about to respond when Vivianne Miedema, who had been watching the whole thing with amusement, piped up. “It’s alright, Katie. We all know you’re the real catch here,” she said dryly, earning another round of laughter from the group.

Katie finally let out a groan, rubbing her hand over her face as she shook her head. “Alright, alright, I get it! Y/N’s hilarious, I’m punching, and you all think I’ve got no chance. Can we move on now?”

You grinned triumphantly, leaning forward to give her a playful shove. “Just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine, McCabe. No hard feelings?”

Katie gave you a mock glare but then broke into a grin. “No hard feelings. But don’t think I won’t get you back for this, Y/N. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” you said with a wink.

The tension from earlier had evaporated, and even though you’d embarrassed Katie in front of the whole team, she took it in stride. She might have been annoyed in the moment, but deep down, you knew she appreciated the banter. It was part of what made the team so close, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction at getting some revenge for Leah.

As the team began to disperse, Leah pulled you aside, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she said, shaking her head with a laugh. “You’re going to be on Katie’s hit list now.”

You shrugged, pulling her into a quick hug. “Worth it. She needed to be taken down a peg, and besides…” You leaned in, lowering your voice to a whisper. “I’d do anything to make sure you don’t feel like you’re not enough.”

Leah’s expression softened, and she squeezed your hand, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I know,” she said quietly. “And I love you for it.”

You smiled against her lips. “I love you too.”

The atmosphere at the training ground was light-hearted, as usual. The team had gathered for a post-training cool-down, and, naturally, the banter was in full swing. You and Katie had developed a playful rivalry over the past few weeks, your teasing battles becoming something of an expected part of the team’s routine.

Most days, it was harmless—small digs and jabs that made the team laugh and kept everyone on their toes. But today, the teasing had been especially sharp, and you could sense the tension rising between you and Katie. You weren’t sure why, but she seemed particularly determined to get under your skin.

Katie grinned as she jogged over to where you and Leah were sitting. “Oi, Y/N, heard you were working on your footwork. Might want to call in some help from Viv, yeah? Could save you some embarrassment next time you trip over your own feet in front of the cameras.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking as you shot back without missing a beat. “And maybe you could call Viv for some pointers on how to stay in the starting lineup, McCabe. Might help with all those bench-warming sessions you’ve been having.”

The rest of the team laughed, a few of them throwing in their own jabs at Katie. Leah nudged you with a grin, clearly enjoying the exchange, but you could feel the competitive edge sharpening between you and Katie. This wasn’t going to be just a casual back-and-forth today.

Katie raised an eyebrow, her smile tight. “Careful now, Y/N. Don’t forget, I’ve seen your one-on-one drills. If anyone’s warming the bench next, it’ll be you. Don’t worry, though, I’ll save you a seat.”

You chuckled, but the tension between you and Katie was growing. It was starting to feel less playful and more personal, though you weren’t about to back down.

“Ah, well, if I’m warming the bench, at least I won’t be doing it alone. You and I both know you’ve spent more time sitting out than playing lately, Katie. Maybe you should focus more on your game than on trying to be funny.”

Katie’s eyes flashed, and the team’s laughter had a slight edge to it now. She stepped closer, her grin still in place but her tone sharper than before. “At least I don’t have to rely on my looks to stay relevant, eh? Must be tough, being known more for your face than your football.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and the smile faltered on your lips for a split second. Katie’s dig went straight to the heart of one of your deepest insecurities—that people only cared about you for your appearance, that no matter how hard you worked on your game, it would always be overshadowed by your looks.

The team went quiet, sensing the sudden shift in the mood. Even Leah’s smile faded as she glanced between you and Katie, realizing that this had gone from playful banter to something more serious.

You swallowed, trying to shake off the sting of her words. You couldn’t let Katie see how much that jab had affected you, but the knot in your stomach was growing.

“Well,” you said, your voice quieter now but still trying to maintain your composure, “at least I’m relevant. Must be hard, Katie, knowing that no one’s really watching you unless you’re on the bench or mouthing off.”

Katie’s smirk faded slightly, but before she could respond, Leah stepped in, her voice calm but firm. “Alright, that’s enough,” she said, glancing between the two of you. “It’s all fun and games until someone takes it too far.”

Katie looked like she was about to say something, but then she hesitated, glancing at you. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—maybe regret, maybe guilt—but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she just shook her head and backed off, walking toward the rest of the team.

You sat there, feeling the weight of Katie’s words settle over you. It wasn’t the first time someone had made a comment about your looks being more of a focus than your football, but coming from a teammate—someone you thought you had a mutual respect with—it stung in a way you hadn’t expected.

Leah leaned closer, her hand resting gently on your back. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked softly, her eyes full of concern.

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just Katie being Katie.”

But Leah didn’t look convinced. She knew you too well. “She shouldn’t have said that. You know that, right?”

You shrugged, trying to brush it off, but Leah’s hand on your back stayed firm. “Y/N, you’re more than just your looks. You’re an incredible player, and everyone here knows that.”

Her words were comforting, but the knot in your chest didn’t loosen. You knew Leah meant well, and she was trying to reassure you, but the insecurity that Katie had prodded at wasn’t something that could just be talked away.

“I know,” you said quietly, but even to your own ears, your voice sounded hollow.

Leah frowned, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll handle it.”

Leah gave you a look that said she wasn’t entirely convinced, but she didn’t push. She knew when to let you handle things in your own way.

The rest of training passed in a blur, but your mind kept circling back to Katie’s comment. It echoed in your head, gnawing at the insecurities you’d worked so hard to bury. By the time the session ended, you were barely listening to the conversations around you, just waiting for the chance to be alone with your thoughts.

But as you walked toward the locker room, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Katie standing there, her expression a mix of guilt and awkwardness.

“Y/N, wait,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Can we talk?”

You crossed your arms, unsure whether you were ready to have this conversation. “What’s there to talk about, Katie? You made your point.”

Katie winced, clearly not expecting you to be so blunt. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just—”

“Just what?” you interrupted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Trying to be funny? Well, congratulations, because you really nailed it. I hope it was worth it.”

Katie sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. It was just… we were going back and forth, and I wasn’t thinking. I took it too far.”

You wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt, but looking at Katie now, with her genuine regret and the tension in her shoulders, it was hard to keep the wall up. You sighed, shaking your head.

“Yeah, you did,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t know how hard it is, Katie. Everyone’s always focusing on how I look, and no matter how well I play, it’s never good enough. I’m always going to be ‘the pretty one’ instead of the footballer.”

Katie looked down, her guilt deepening. “I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was like that for you. I was just… I don’t know, trying to win the banter, I guess. But that was a shitty thing to say.”

You stared at her for a moment, weighing her words. Finally, you sighed, letting go of some of the tension in your chest. “Just… don’t do it again, alright?”

Katie nodded, her eyes sincere. “I won’t. I promise.”

You nodded, and the two of you stood there for a moment in silence before Katie gave you a small, apologetic smile. “We good?”

You hesitated, then nodded again, this time with a hint of a smile. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Katie grinned, relieved. “Alright. But just so you know, I’m still going to kick your ass in the next drill.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “We’ll see about that, McCabe.”

The house was unusually quiet as you sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. The show playing in front of you was some sitcom, the laugh track echoing in the background, but you weren’t really watching it. Your mind was miles away, replaying Katie’s words over and over.

"At least I don’t have to rely on my looks to stay relevant, eh?"

You sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions. No matter how hard you tried to brush it off, the comment clung to you like a shadow, creeping into every thought. It wasn’t just what Katie had said—it was the deeper fear behind it. A fear that had been gnawing at you for as long as you could remember.

You’d worked so hard to get to where you were, to be taken seriously as a footballer. But no matter how many matches you played, how many goals you scored, or how much time you spent perfecting your skills, the comments about your appearance never seemed to stop. The media, the fans, even some of the players—they all seemed more interested in how you looked than in how you played. And Katie’s joke had only reinforced the insecurity that you weren’t good enough, that people only noticed you because of your looks.

You hadn’t told Leah how much it bothered you when Katie had said it. You’d brushed it off at the time, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, but now, sitting here alone, it was hard to ignore the weight of those words.

The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. Leah stepped inside, her hair slightly damp from her post-training shower, and she smiled when she saw you sitting on the couch.

“Hey,” she said softly, kicking off her shoes and walking over to sit beside you. “How was the rest of your day?”

You forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “It was fine,” you said, your voice quiet.

Leah’s brow furrowed as she studied your face, immediately sensing that something was off. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice gentle. “You’ve been distant since training.”

You hesitated, not wanting to drag the mood down, but Leah had a way of reading you better than anyone else. She wasn’t going to let this go.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, but Leah’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Y/N,” she said, her tone soft but insistent. “Talk to me. I know something’s bothering you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to find the right words. “It’s just… what Katie said. About me relying on my looks. It’s been stuck in my head.”

Leah’s eyes softened with understanding, and she shifted closer to you on the couch, her hand gently resting on your knee. “She didn’t mean it,” Leah said quietly. “You know Katie—she says things without thinking. She’s already apologized.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “I know she didn’t mean it like that, but… it just hit a nerve, you know? Because sometimes it feels like that’s all people see. They talk about how I look, not how I play. And no matter how hard I work, it’s like I’m always going to be ‘the pretty one’ instead of the footballer.”

Leah frowned, her hand squeezing your knee gently. “That’s not true,” she said firmly. “You’re an amazing player, Y/N. Anyone who knows anything about football can see that. You’re not just here because of your looks—you’re here because you’ve earned it.”

You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “But it doesn’t feel like that sometimes. It feels like no matter what I do on the pitch, it’s always going to be overshadowed by something I can’t control.”

Leah shifted closer, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her side. “I get it,” she said softly. “I know it’s hard. People focus on the wrong things all the time. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re one of the best players I’ve ever seen.”

You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder as you tried to take comfort in her words. Leah was always good at reassuring you, at making you feel better, but the insecurity Katie had touched on wasn’t something that could be easily shaken.

“I just… I don’t want to be seen as a joke, Leah,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want people thinking I’m only here because I’m attractive. I’ve worked so hard to be good at this, and it feels like it doesn’t even matter sometimes.”

Leah pulled back slightly so she could look at you, her eyes full of warmth and sincerity. “You’re not a joke, Y/N. You’re an incredible footballer, and anyone who tries to reduce you to just your looks doesn’t know what they’re talking about. You belong here because you’re talented, and you’ve worked for everything you’ve achieved. Don’t let anyone make you feel like that’s not enough.”

You sighed, nodding slightly but still feeling the weight of the insecurity. Leah’s words helped, but it was hard to completely shake the doubt that lingered in the back of your mind.

Leah tilted her head, studying your face for a moment before a small smile tugged at her lips. “Do you want to know something?” she asked, her voice soft.

You glanced up at her, curious. “What?”

“I don’t care about how you look,” Leah said, her tone teasing but her eyes sincere. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re ridiculously attractive, but that’s not why I love you. I love you because you’re funny, and smart, and kind, and you’re an amazing player. The looks are just a bonus.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her words, a small laugh escaping your lips despite the heaviness you’d been feeling. “You’re just saying that.”

Leah shook her head, her smile widening. “Nope. I mean every word. And the next time someone tries to reduce you to just your looks, I’ll remind them why you’re so much more than that.”

You smiled, feeling some of the tension in your chest loosen. Leah always had a way of making you feel seen, of reminding you that you were more than just what people said about you.

Leah reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as her eyes softened. “I’m proud of you, Y/N. For everything you’ve accomplished. And I’ll always be here to remind you how incredible you are, even when you forget.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, grateful for her support. “Thank you,” you whispered against her mouth.

Leah smiled as she pulled back, resting her forehead against yours. “Always.”

The two of you sat there in the quiet of your living room, the earlier heaviness slowly fading as Leah’s words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. Katie’s joke still lingered in the back of your mind, but it didn’t feel as sharp anymore. With Leah by your side, reminding you of your worth, you knew you could handle it.

As the night wore on, the insecurities that had weighed you down all day began to fade, replaced by the warmth of Leah’s presence and the knowledge that, no matter what anyone said, you were enough.

The buzz surrounding the award nominations had been building for weeks, but you hadn’t given it much thought. Sure, the prospect of being recognized for your hard work was exciting, but you were focused on the season ahead, training hard with your teammates and making sure you were ready for every match.

That was until the day of the announcement arrived. You were in the locker room, going through your usual pre-training routine, when you heard the excited chatter from the other players. Curious, you glanced up from your phone, where you had been scrolling through social media, and caught sight of Leah’s wide smile as she rushed toward you.

“Y/N! Did you see? You’re nominated for the Ballon d’Or!” Leah exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels.

You blinked, your heart racing at the unexpected news. “What? No, I didn’t see anything!” You quickly reached for your phone, frantically searching for confirmation, and when the news article popped up, your breath caught in your throat.

Your name was right there, alongside some of the best players in the world. The realization hit you like a wave, crashing over you with a mix of disbelief and exhilaration.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this!” you said, shaking your head in disbelief as you stared at the screen.

Leah laughed, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug, her excitement infectious. “You deserve this, Y/N! You’ve worked so hard! This is proof that you’re not just a pretty face on the pitch—you’re a phenomenal footballer!”

You felt your cheeks heat at her words, both thrilled and embarrassed by the praise. “I mean, it’s just a nomination,” you said, trying to downplay it. “There are so many incredible players out there.”

Leah pulled back to look you in the eyes, her expression serious. “Exactly! And you’re one of them! This nomination isn’t just some fluke—it’s recognition for everything you’ve achieved this season. You’ve scored goals, assisted like a pro, and played your heart out every match. You’re not just here for your looks; you’re here because you’ve earned it.”

Her words struck a chord within you, echoing everything you had been trying to convince yourself of. Maybe this recognition wasn’t just about the attention your appearance drew, but rather a testament to your talent and dedication.

“Thanks, Leah,” you said, feeling a warm flutter in your chest at her unwavering support. “I guess I just never thought I’d be in the running for something like this.”

“Why not? You’re talented and passionate about the game. You bring so much to the team, and people are starting to notice,” Leah said, her eyes sparkling with pride. “This is just the beginning for you, and I couldn’t be happier.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling your confidence begin to swell. “I still can’t believe it. I mean, I’ve dreamed of this moment since I was a kid, but now that it’s actually happening… it’s surreal.

Leah leaned in, her voice low and sincere. “You deserve every bit of this recognition. Just remember that, okay? No matter what happens with the award, you’re a fantastic player, and you should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

You nodded, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “I will, I promise.”

The rest of training flew by in a blur, your teammates buzzing with excitement and congratulating you as the news spread. Each well-wishing comment was a reminder of the support you had from the team, and it filled you with a sense of belonging that you had fought hard to find.

Later that evening, you and Leah settled onto the couch in your living room, the glow of the television casting soft light across the room. You scrolled through social media, reading the messages from fans and other players who had reached out to congratulate you.

“This is amazing,” Leah said, grinning as she pointed at the screen. “Look at all these supportive messages! Even some of the international players are celebrating you!”

You laughed, feeling a swell of pride at the community you had built around you. “I never imagined I’d get this much attention. It’s overwhelming.”

Leah shifted closer, resting her head on your shoulder as you continued to scroll. “Just think of it as validation. You’ve always said you want to be taken seriously as a player, and this is it. You’re proving everyone wrong about how they perceive you.”

You took a deep breath, the reality of her words sinking in. It wasn’t just about being recognized; it was about being seen as a serious contender in the world of football, and it felt incredible.

“Thank you for being my biggest cheerleader,” you said softly, leaning your head against Leah’s. “I don’t think I could’ve done any of this without your support.”

Leah smiled, looking up at you with warmth in her eyes. “I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. You’re more than just a teammate to me—you’re my partner, and I believe in you. Always.”

As the evening wore on, you felt lighter, the earlier worries beginning to fade. The nomination wasn’t just a title; it was proof of your hard work, your dedication, and your growth as a player.

With Leah by your side, you felt ready to take on whatever came next—whether it was the award ceremony, the upcoming matches, or the constant scrutiny that came with being in the spotlight.

In that moment, with Leah’s hand intertwined with yours, you knew you could handle anything. You were more than just a pretty face; you were a force on the pitch, and this was just the beginning.

_________________________________________________

The End

[mydairpercabeth]

[queenlucythevaliant]

clean your sword

i. Peter had thought many times about dying for his brother, killing for his sisters, as all oldest children do.

ii. He'd imagined it a hundred times: how if his mother and father were ever killed, he'd get some low-skill job and make sure Lucy's clothes still fit her as she grew. How he'd make fists and fight dirty if Susan was ever threatened. What he'd do if Edmund ever had to flee the country on a dark, windswept night.

iii. Yet when he heard Susan's horn that day, he still froze. Only for an instant, he thought, "this can't be my job, right?"

iv. The blood on his sword shone red when it was all over. When he wiped it on the grass, the stain it left was almost black.

v. They'd put Susan in his arms when he was two years old. Peter didn't remember it, but he knew he'd been waiting for her till then. He wasn't a real person until he was a brother.

vi. And when they walked back to the pavilion, Rhindon bumping Peter's hip, all he could say to his sisters was, "I'm sorry I didn't come faster."

vii. The High King was almost obsessive in the way he cared for Rhindon. When he grew older and required weapons larger than those made for a child, he obsessed over them too.

viii. He told the others, in no uncertain terms, that if it ever came to it in battle, they were to leave him and live. As their brother and high king, he commanded it.

ix. The first time Edmund risked himself for Peter's sake, Peter didn't speak to him for a week.

x. He was oiling his sword when Edmund found him. "See, the thing is, Peter, being brothers goes both ways. If you can love me enough to die for me, than I get to love you just the same."

xi. Peter agreed with him then, to avoid the argument. He was sick of not talking to his brother. Yet privately, he knew that Edmund was wrong. That sacrifice was Peter's special prerogative, as the first-born.

xii. Back in England, his mother noticed that Peter had become more fastidious. She didn't notice that his protective streak has grown - and maybe it hadn't, really.

xiii. It was uncanny, how Peter would always show up just when his siblings needed him. He'd round a corner, and there was Lucy stamping her feet and scowling at a bully. There was Susan, crying, and now his knuckles were bloody.

xiv. He cleaned the blood off in the sink so carefully. The water ran red for a second, and it almost seemed black.

xv. When Caspian asked for the High King's advice, looking so very young, Peter jerked his chin towards the sword a Caspian's hip. "Be ready to use that," he said. "Keep it clean, and close."

xvi. Susan forgot Narnia and she forgot Aslan. Yet selfishly, Peter still hoped that she would never forget how quickly he came when she called.

[daisysmalia]

Just remembered Tim comparing how good his new relationship with ABC is after 704 and how he wants it to continue long term to Tommy and Buck meeting and just…. So many thoughts.

[ghostly-schematics]

I think what more people need to understand is that the pjo cast were cast with the intention of matching the reasoning behind their book appearance, rather than just how they were described. Luke, for example, was described in the books as a blond, muscular surfer kind of guy. At the time of publishing (2005), that was your generic attractive character, and he was described like that to make you trust him more so the betrayal was more unexpected. Now, almost twenty years later in the show, he looks like a tiktok fuck boy because that’s what people now tend to like more. On the other hand, Annabeth was blonde in the books because that was what made people doubt her intelligence, which isn’t something as common now. However, racism is still very real (as proven by people’s responses to Leah being cast), which makes people underestimate her, giving way for the same character arc. This concept works with the rest of the castings as well. Grover still gives the vibes of a lovable loser. Percy looks ready to sass a ninety year old man. Chiron looks appropriately wise and the Ares kids look ready to fuck you up.

The only character that I would say is different is Clarisse. In the books she’s described as big and muscular and ugly, as it was quite common at the time to say ugly = bad which is something that has not aged well at all. Dior’s casting goes against those negative attitudes and ties into the theme of “not everyone who looks like a monster is a monster and not everyone who looks like a hero is a hero”

And at the end of the day, everyone in the cast perfectly captures their characters’ personalities regardless of their appearance

[whatsitzface]

Fuck every percy jackson "fan" who is still complaining about percy & annabeths HAIR COLOURS being different then in the books. I hope Nico is blonde so that all of you cry and scream like fucking toddlers

[stargirlsfc]

"leah walks over the other day..."

"see this is what I mean– I literally told her the other day not to tell anyone"

[twinsarekeepers]

leahbeth and walkerpercy the only percabeth ever and I am so thankful for that because, and i’m sorry to those of you who saw this cursed vision, it genuinely would’ve been the worst thing to ever exist if we’d gotten a white annabeth paired with a black or brown percy

[tswiftupdatess]

Leah Kateb from 'Love Island USA' shares "You're On Your Own, Kid" on her instagram story!

(July 22, 2024)

[rebouks]

Wyatt’s stomach was still churning too uncomfortably for him to think about dinner, nor did Brynn seem too bothered either; she was far more interested in taking herself to bed. He’d been too distracted to notice earlier, but he suddenly realised she hadn’t even brought a bag along with her.

Wyatt: You didn’t bring anything with you? Brynn: I not really have anything… Wyatt: If I knew you were going to set out with nothing, I might not have been so keen to let you leave. Brynn: It was important to me. Wyatt: I know. Brynn: You came to find me, didn’t you? Wyatt: Perhaps-.. but I changed my mind in the end. Brynn: Before or after you fail? Wyatt: [snorts] In between. Brynn: I not mean to ghost you-.. I hoped to get a new phone, but something more important popped up. Wyatt: It’s okay.. I have your phone, by the way. Brynn: Oh-.. is Gael still breathing? Wyatt: Unfortunately. Brynn: Maybe you knock some sense into him. Wyatt: I doubt it. Brynn: Hm, me too-.. I would have liked to see his face. [Wyatt snickered lowly; he should’ve taken a picture]

Wyatt: Would you still have come back? You know, if it weren’t for-… Brynn: I always plan on coming home. Wyatt: I take it you were busy saving your money? Brynn: Yes! Though your friend Darien helped me in the end. Wyatt: I’ll have to pay him back then. Brynn: Pfft, I pay myself! That’s why I take so long. Wyatt: I could’ve helped you, if you’d asked. Brynn: I not think it fair. Wyatt: What do you mean? Brynn: Is so expensive. Wyatt: And? Brynn: I not want to bankrupt you. [Wyatt squinted, realising he’d never mentioned the fact that his lifestyle didn’t quite match his bank account] Wyatt: Brynn, I could buy us a private jet if I wanted-.. several, in fact. Brynn: Really..? Wyatt: Mhm. Brynn: You live so modestly; I never would know. Wyatt: Well, at least you’re not after my money.

Brynn chuckled sleepily; she hadn’t returned with the intent to sit idly on her hands, but it was nice to know there was no rush to find employment, or to make money. She was beyond exhausted after the past few months

Brynn: Does that mean I not have to get a job? Wyatt: Not unless you want one. Brynn: Will you keep yours? Wyatt: Probably not. I just wanted to know what it felt like-.. mundanity. Brynn: Is kind of rewarding, no? Wyatt: Oddly so. Brynn: I think we have something more rewarding to spend our time on soon. Wyatt: How long do we have to, uh.. prepare? Brynn: I not know exactly. Wyatt: You haven’t been to the doctors? Brynn: I not able to just walk in without being registered! I feel fine, anyway. Wyatt: We’ll sort it out tomorrow-.. get you some clothes n’ stuff afterward. Brynn: You are soft. Wyatt: Only for you.

With no worries left unsaid and no more secrets between them, Brynn draped herself over Wyatt and crashed-.. hard. Some people clearly didn’t understand her choices, but she’d never felt so loved, seen, or safe with anyone else before. She was finally home, and for the first time in her life, she was truly content…

Previous // Next

[mead-iocre]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

leah bringing spoiled!reader with her to new york for a work event. spoiled!reader with her hermès bubblegum pink birkin 35 with palladium hardware and her baby pink prada patent leather heels. the restaurant was lovely, highly-rated, and expensive– exactly suited to reader's taste. the chef's tasting menu was $500+ per person with wine pairing. reader and leah were in for a feast with the 10-course menu. seared shrimp, fennel mousseline, sauce bouillabaisse and more; but reader's favourite was the pan roasted filet mignon, coupled with celeriac “bone marrow” and an aromaful red wine-shallot sauce.

best believe this girl will always tip the servers (!!!!!). when the bill comes ($1410+ thanks to the domaine de la romanée-conti la tâche grand cru 2016 bottle of wine that reader insisted she had to try, but did not even finish a glass of) reader would proudly exclaim "I've got the tip!" and leah would just chuckle, all sweet and endearing, handing the waiter her amex card without even glancing at the bill. like "aw that's nice of you, baby"

reader would clumsily open her bag, digging through her chanel lipglosses, bottle of tom ford perfume, organic mints, various bottles and tubes of hand creams and face mists and such, to find her wad of hundred dollar bills neatly clipped in a stainless steel, custom-made money clip with her initials of course. she'd pull out four hundred dollar bills and hand them to their waiter with a sweet "thank you, sir!".

leah watches as she smiles, clearly very pleased with herself, tucking the stack of hundred dollar bills back in her birkin. Her sweet girl. "look at'chu lil sugar mama"

she practically preens at her praise. "I actually withdrew it from your card, lee"

pulling out her chanel hand mirror, quickly retouching her lipgloss. "can we stop by the bank before we head to soho? might need to withdraw some more"

"...well, I guess it's nice that you're so generous, baby"

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

tip your waiters folks!

[millyh23]

Runaway

Leah Williamson x Sister!Reader

Word count:

Based on this request

_________________________________________________

The Williamson household was a battleground—a war of expectations where Leah was the shining star and you were merely a shadow, perpetually overlooked. Leah was the golden child, the athlete with a future that glittered like gold. You, on the other hand, were the afterthought, the disappointment. Your parents never failed to remind you of that.

“Y/N, can’t you just try to be more like Leah?” your mother, Amanda, would say, her voice laced with disdain. “Look at what she’s accomplished! She’s going places!”

You would clench your fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m not Leah! I’m me!”

The silence that followed was deafening. Your parents’ eyes glazed over, dismissing your struggles while Leah basked in the glow of their pride. With every praise they heaped upon her, you felt more like a ghost in your own home.

You were around ten years old, sitting at the dining table during a family gathering. The smell of roast chicken filled the air, and laughter echoed around you, but you felt like an outsider. You watched as your mother animatedly praised Leah, her favorite.

“Mum, did you see Leah score that goal last week?” Amanda exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with pride. “She’s going to be the next big thing in women’s football! Such talent, such dedication!”

You sat quietly, pushing your food around your plate, feeling the familiar sting of jealousy. Why couldn’t anyone see you?

“Yeah, she’s really good,” your Nan chimed in, nodding. “What about you, Y/N? Are you going to take up sports like your sister?”

You shrugged, trying to disappear into your chair. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on! You should try to be more like Leah!” Amanda said, her voice dripping with condescension. “At least someone in this family has to make us proud.”

Your heart sank as you heard the laughter from your relatives, the way they all nodded in agreement. “Leah’s got potential, and she’s going to make it big. What do you have, Y/N? A knack for sitting around?”

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your eyes stinging with tears. “I’m good at other things!” you protested weakly, but your voice was drowned out by Leah’s laughter.

“Y/N can’t even kick a ball without tripping over her own feet!” Leah teased, her laughter infectious, but it cut through you like a knife.

“Stop it, Leah!” you shouted, feeling the anger boil over. “You’re not better than me!”

“Calm down, sweetie. We’re just having some fun,” Amanda said dismissively, patting your head as if you were a child throwing a tantrum. “You’ll find your talent one day. Just try to keep up with your sister, okay?”

The words echoed in your mind as you fought back tears. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders, the expectation to be someone you couldn’t be.

The day you left for boot camp was bittersweet. You felt excitement but also a pang of guilt for leaving Leah behind.

“Are you sure about this?” Leah asked, concern etched on her face.

“Yeah, I need to do this for me,” you replied, forcing a smile.

“Just promise you’ll be careful,” she said, her tone a mix of worry and support.

“Of course,” you lied, knowing deep down that you were running away from the pain rather than confronting it.

Boot camp was grueling, but it gave you a sense of purpose. You found strength in the camaraderie of your fellow recruits, pushing yourself to the limit. For the first time, you felt like you belonged somewhere.

But even amidst the discipline and training, the thoughts of your family lingered. You often wondered if Leah ever thought about you or if she was too busy with her own life to care.

After four years of service, you returned home, hoping to reconnect with Leah. But as soon as you stepped through the door, the reality of your family life hit you like a slap in the face.

“Y/N!” your mother exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon!”

“Where’s Leah?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh, she’s at training,” your mother replied, pride dripping from her words. “You know how dedicated she is!”

The mention of Leah’s name sent a wave of bitterness through you. “Right. Of course.”

As the days passed, you felt like a ghost in your own home. Leah was too wrapped up in her training and matches to spend time with you, and your parents were too busy praising her to notice your presence.

Every time you reached out to Leah, she seemed distant. “I’m busy, Y/N,” she would say, her tone apologetic but cold. “Can we catch up later?”

“Sure,” you would reply, masking your frustration, but inside, anger festered like an untreated wound.

Everything came to a head one fateful evening. You had been waiting for Leah to come home, desperate for a chance to talk. When she finally walked in, you felt a surge of emotion.

“Leah, can we talk?” you asked, your voice trembling with pent-up frustration.

“Not now, Y/N. I have a match tomorrow, and I need to rest,” she replied, brushing past you like you were nothing.

“Seriously? You can’t even spare five minutes for your sister?” you snapped, the anger boiling over.

Leah turned to you, surprise written all over her face. “What’s your problem? I’m trying to focus on my career here!”

“Your career? What about me? I just got back from serving four years, and you can’t even acknowledge it!” you shouted, feeling the years of resentment pour out.

“Maybe if you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have to worry about it!” Leah shot back, her own anger flaring.

“Run away? You have no idea what it was like for me!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “You think I wanted to leave? I had to escape this hell!”

“Escape?” Leah scoffed. “You think I wanted to be the one left behind? I thought we could have been a family again!”

“Family?” you yelled, your voice hoarse. “You don’t even know what that means! You’ve been too busy being the perfect daughter to care about anyone else!”

“Stop acting like a victim!” Leah shouted, her voice echoing in the cramped room. “You chose to leave! You didn’t think about how it would affect me!”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a self-absorbed brat, I would have thought about it!” you retorted, feeling the hurt and anger consume you.

Leah took a step back, the hurt in her eyes cutting deep. “I’m not trying to fix anything! I just want to understand!”

“Understand? You’ll never understand what it’s like to feel abandoned!” you spat, turning away from her. “You’re nothing but a fucking reminder of everything I’ve lost!”

With nowhere to go, you found yourself wandering the streets, the weight of your emotions suffocating. You had always been proud of your service, but now it felt like a shackle, a reminder of everything you had lost.

Days turned into weeks, and the harsh reality of homelessness set in. You tried to find odd jobs, but with no permanent address, it was nearly impossible. You slept in parks, scrounged for food, and felt the bitterness of betrayal gnawing at your insides.

The nights were the worst. You would huddle in a corner, wrapped in a tattered blanket, feeling the bite of the cold seep into your bones. Each passing day was a reminder of your failures, a reminder that you were alone in a world that had forgotten about you.

“Why the fuck am I in this situation?” you muttered to yourself one night, staring up at the stars. “I served my country, and this is how I’m repaid?”

Anger boiled over, and you found yourself shouting at the universe. “I’m not a fucking loser! I’m better than this! I deserve better!”

But the cold reality of your circumstances wrapped around you like a suffocating blanket. You felt invisible, lost in a world that had forgotten you.

You would occasionally catch glimpses of Leah on TV, scoring goals and living the life you once dreamed of. Jealousy and anger bubbled within you, and you cursed her silently from your corner of the street. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Leah. You’ll never know what it’s like to fall from grace!”

The days dragged on, and you became a master of survival. You learned where to find food, how to navigate the streets, and how to avoid trouble. You slept with one eye open, always ready to defend yourself against anyone who might try to take advantage of your vulnerability.

You scrounged for odd jobs, doing anything you could to earn a few bucks. You washed cars, picked up litter, and even helped set up for local events. Each day was a struggle, but you were determined not to let your circumstances break you.

As the weather turned colder, you found yourself searching for warmth. You discovered a shelter where you could stay for the night, but the rules were strict, and you hated feeling trapped. You were used to fighting for everything you had, and the thought of relying on others felt humiliating.

“Just a few more weeks, Y/N,” you told yourself, determination hardening your resolve. “You’ll get back on your feet. You’ll show them all.”

But the loneliness was suffocating. You missed Leah, but the anger kept you from reaching out. You felt abandoned, cast aside like trash, and the thought of showing vulnerability was unbearable.

One night, as you sat in the shelter, you overheard a conversation between two women about job opportunities. They were discussing a local program that helped people get back on their feet—job training, housing assistance, and support.

You listened intently, your heart racing. Maybe this was the opportunity you needed. But the thought of asking for help felt like admitting defeat. You had always been independent, and relying on others was something you had sworn never to do.

But as the days turned into weeks, you realized you couldn’t do it alone. You swallowed your pride and applied for the program, filling out the paperwork with trembling hands.

When you received the acceptance letter, it felt like a lifeline. “Finally,” you whispered to yourself, determination flooding your veins. “This is your chance.”

You threw yourself into the program, attending every workshop and training session. It was exhausting, but you felt like you were finally taking control of your life. You learned new skills, met new people, and slowly began to rebuild your sense of self.

As the months passed, you managed to find a stable job at a local diner. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills and allowed you to save for your own place. You felt a sense of pride swell within you—this was your life, and you were finally making it work.

But even as you focused on building your new life, the anger and resentment toward Leah simmered beneath the surface. You would see her on social media, celebrating victories and surrounded by friends, and it only fueled your rage.

“How can she be so happy when I’m out here struggling?” you muttered one night, staring at your phone with clenched fists. “She’s living in a dream world while I’m fighting for survival.”

You felt a mix of jealousy and bitterness, and the thought of reaching out to Leah felt impossible. You had fought so hard to stand on your own, and asking for help would mean admitting defeat.

One evening, as you finished your shift at the diner, you found yourself walking home, the weight of your emotions heavy on your shoulders. You couldn’t shake the feeling of anger that had been building within you.

You passed by the local football pitch, where Leah and her teammates were practicing. You stopped, watching from a distance as she laughed and joked with her friends. The sight twisted a knife in your gut.

“Look at her,” you whispered to yourself. “Living her best life without a care in the world.”

You felt a surge of anger, and before you knew it, you were shouting, “You think you’re so fucking special, don’t you, Leah?”

The laughter on the pitch faded, and Leah turned to look in your direction, confusion etched on her face. “Y/N?” she called out, her voice laced with concern.

But you didn’t want her pity. “Just keep playing your little game, Leah! You’ve got it all figured out, right?”

Leah jogged over, concern quickly replacing the confusion. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Why the hell do you care?” you snapped, your anger boiling over. “You’ve never cared about me before!”

“Y/N, that’s not true!” Leah protested, her eyes wide with hurt. “I’ve always cared! I didn’t know you were struggling!”

“Of course you didn’t! You were too busy being the perfect daughter!” you shouted, tears streaming down your face. “You don’t get to act like you care now!”

“Just talk to me!” Leah pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice. “I want to help!”

“Help? You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything? It doesn’t work that way!” you yelled, feeling the hurt and anger consume you.

Leah took a step back, the hurt in her eyes cutting deep. “I’m not trying to fix anything! I just want to understand!”

“Understand? You’ll never understand what it’s like to feel abandoned!” you spat, turning away from her. “You’re nothing but a fucking reminder of everything I’ve lost!”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Leah standing there, shocked and hurt. You felt a mix of satisfaction and pain as you distanced yourself from her.

You had fought so hard to get your life back on track, and the last thing you needed was the reminder of what you had lost. As you walked home, you felt the anger wash over you like a tidal wave.

“Goodbye, Leah,” you whispered bitterly. “You’ll never know how much you hurt me.”

The weeks turned into months, and you focused on your job and building a stable life without Leah. You attended support groups, made new friends, and slowly began to heal the wounds of your past.

But the bitterness remained, a reminder of the sister who had once been your best friend. You had built a life on your terms, but the anger toward Leah kept you from fully embracing it.

As the seasons changed, you found yourself standing on your own two feet. You had managed to secure your own apartment, and for the first time in years, you felt a glimmer of hope.

You had come a long way from the streets, and while the anger still simmered beneath the surface, you were determined to move forward. You had learned to be strong, to rely on yourself, and to never let anyone take that away from you again.

And as you looked out at the city from your new apartment, you knew that you had forged your own path. “I did this,” you whispered to yourself, a sense of pride swelling within you. “I’m nobody’s shadow anymore.”

With the past behind you, you were ready to embrace the future—whatever it may hold.

_________________________________________________

The End.

[nerdyfangirlmel]

Leah Sava jefferies and Walker scobells ability to show growing emotion, play off of each other, and demonstrate foreshadowing of where their characters and relationships are supposed to go is so phenomenal and better than most grown professional actors.

Like these two 12 year olds DO NOT have an understanding of what love is yet, in fact that is a common theme in the series-them debating over what love looks like.

Percy and Annabeth are 12 they aren’t in love yet, they don’t know each other they are still learning about each other. But they are 12 year olds who DO know that there is this person next to them who has demonstrated putting the other first instead of themselves. The only thing they know what right now is that they are becoming friends. They might know what they think it means to “like” someone in that superficial 12 year old way. But they don’t know what love is.

And Leah and Walker grasp that concept so well. They know that Percy and Annabeth are going to end up together, AND THEY KNOW HOW TO GET THEM THERE!

We’ve all seen book/comic to adaptation where the actor’s chemistry with their supposed love interest DOESN’T get them there and the relationship looks forced.

But these kids KNOW what there doing and they know how to get there characters to a relationship that’s going to be convincing.

[queenlucythevaliant]

gone right into my heart

i. Fundamentally, mean children everywhere are all the same.

ii. Eustace Scrubb didn't think of himself as mean, of course, but he was. Cruel, petty, entitled, spoiled - all fine descriptors.

iii. All mean children have tough, scaly hides under which they conceal vulnerable flesh. They breathe fire and hope no one notices that it reeks of rot. Their claws are sharp, and because of this they cannot write in soft sand or hold hands with their loved ones.

iv. Eustace's cousins came to stay for the summer, and the worst part of it all was that it'd been years since he'd gotten a proper rise out of them. It was infuriating! Having them around would be no fun at all.

iv. Later, in Narnia, Eustace began to understand why they were so impervious to him. He'd been mean, sure, but they were knights.

v. Take me home, take me home, take me home, he said. Over and over. Take me home where it's safe. Take me home where I am in control. Not afraid. Not vulnerable.

vi. Eustace was never in control. It took becoming a dragon - the natural culmination of all the entitlement and cruelty that lived within him - to finally make that clear.

vii. He was wrapped in tough, scaly hide when the Lion came by moonlight. Eustace was a dragon, but if he still couldn't reckon with knights, what chance did he have against a lion?

viii. The lion's claws were sharper than his. They were sharper than anything else in the world.

ix. When those claws tore into his dragon hide, Eustace thought he would die. Perhaps, in a way, he did.

x. Claws that sharp should not have been capable of such dexterity or care. Yet they found their mark like scalpel blades in a surgeon's hands; not like the crude things that hung off of Eustace'a wretched dragon-limbs.

xi. He could feel them tearing through the scales. The tough dragon hide parted like butter. The lion's claws dug deeper, through tissue and muscle and the contorted cage of his ribs. They found his heart, and struck.

xii. After that, there was a pulling sensation. Eustace should have been dead, but his heart was beating, even impaled as it was with the lion's claws. Slowly, with an agonizing gentleness, the lion drew the boy's heart out of the gnarled dragon skin.

xiii. The body that came with it was soft and vulnerable and naked. How could he pretend at meanness now, with his armor so thoroughly destroyed? It would rend him to pieces.

xiv. Oh, thought Eustace. Was I ever anything else? Or have I always been this soft and naked?

xv. Yet the lion did not leave Eustace to his nakedness. He dressed him in soft clothes before returning him to camp.

[moonsbijou]

OUR THALIA GRACE, ANNABETH CHASE, AND CLARISSE LA RUE