#quansah harvey bradley...

[yeklovesmosalah]

Not a single lfc player in this picture...

[millythegoat]

cuddle attacc

[itsfootballbih]

My reds are the champions!🏆❤️🏆❤️

[lauvendust]

“why am i always at the front” 😾

[hubba1892]

"In football, can you create stories that definitely nobody will ever forget? It’s so difficult. Because this happened before, this happened before. They won it then, they did it there… This tonight?! Will you find the same story with academy players coming on against a top, top side? And still winning it? I’ve never heard of it."

[diedinacrash]

Collection of pictures I adore from yesterday:

[carlaloveslfc]

[halfturn]

🫂❤️

[sallanj-ball]

The last three weeks related to football have been awful for me, so I will start reviving my previous coping mechanism: shitposting (emphasis on "shit", because I am cringe, but I am free).

[prem-os]

https://www.tumblr.com/prem-os/782249500173631488/scent-headcanons?source=share

Can we get this for the whole team?

[millythegoat]

❤️❤️❤️

[sopranicc]

language headcanons??

no one asked but the nations league's got me thinking about languages and so hcs:

-fàbio definitely speaks portuguese to his mum on the phone and harvey always begs him to translate but fàbio simply rolls his eyes and tells him to simply 'learn' if he really wants to know

then harvey (like the determined soul he is) spends hours on duolingo, youtube and paid courses to learn it and surprise fàbio one day with his best attempt and fàbio just like falls in love again and now ONLY speaks in portuguese to harvey to help him practice (which harvey finds annoying but works)

-robbo doesn't speak it fluently but he knows some gaelic from school and uses it to annoy trent. like he'll say random words in gaelic to keep trent guessing as a game (he's the only one that finds it funny)

-both jarell and connor tried to learn spanish for their vacation in mallorca but they spoke it with such bad english accents the locals begged them to stop. however they like asking their teammates how to say stuff in their mother tongues and every time they have international break they like asking the other team's players or the locals for little words so now combined they can ask "where's the bathroom" in 15 languages (the pronunciation is still horrific though)

-bonus: alisson and virg tried to teach the other a language (alisson teaches virg brazilian portuguese and virg teaches alisson dutch) but it was too difficult for both of them - however they love using pet names and little words (like tea or something) in their native tongues because the other finds it very cute

[hubba1892]

group of Kop Kids going on an adventure

[carlaloveslfc]

[conorbradleyfc]

Guys I did it 😁 anyone who is interested in reading my work....

This is the first chapter

Chapter 1: Just like this

Chapter Text

It started with shared boots.

Not intentionally, of course. Conor forgot his at home, and Jarell—being Jarell—offered his without thinking twice. “Bit big, but you’ll grow into ‘em,” he grinned, flinging them across the dorm room like he was passing a rugby ball.

That was first year at the academy. Room 214. They weren’t roommates then, but somehow Conor always ended up there anyway—sprawled on Jarell’s bed, pretending to study while Jarell paced and talked too loud about whatever team they were facing next.

By second year, they were inseparable. Inside jokes whispered between drills. Conor’s hoodie mysteriously going missing, only to find it stretched over Jarell’s long frame like a second skin. Sleepovers became routine. “Training’s early,” they’d say. But really, it was the comfort—of being near, of being safe.

One night, Conor was half-asleep, curled in Jarell’s bed after a long day. His head rested near Jarell’s shoulder, breaths slow, but not quite sleeping.

“I like this,” he mumbled.

“What, my bed?” Jarell chuckled, voice a bit too high, a bit too hopeful.

Conor blinked slowly. “No. You. This. Us.”

There was a long pause. Jarell’s arm, resting beside Conor’s, shifted just slightly—enough to brush knuckles. Neither pulled away.

“I thought you’d never say it,” Jarell whispered, barely louder than a breath.

The silence after wasn’t awkward. It was soft. Charged. Like the hum in the air before kickoff.

And when Jarell finally turned his head and their foreheads touched, it wasn’t dramatic. It was slow, shy, clumsy. The way young love always is—quiet and full of wonder. Like passing notes in class. Like their first assist on the pitch together. Like a secret only they shared.

From then on, Room 214 felt different. It smelled like shampoo and sweaty kits and something warmer. Safer. Sweeter. Home.

They still joked, still kicked each other under the dinner table, still argued over FIFA rankings. But now, there were lingering glances. Sleepy morning hugs. Fingers brushing too long while tying laces.

And when they finally kissed—beneath the flickering hallway light at midnight—it was soft. And certain. And everything they hadn’t known they needed.

[joe-zone]

Joey and the boys vs Southampton ❤️