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#France NT
freekicks · 1 year
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lilydiaone · 1 year
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When you do all the work in a group project but still get a bad grade because of everyone else
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yearsandyears · 1 year
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turning on the england v france game
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judembappe · 13 days
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WOAH
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leeenuu · 1 year
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world cup 2022 + ao3 tags (4/4)
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formulalfc · 5 months
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ramble about how kylian talks to you in french so naturally, so sweetly and gently and your relationship is just so cute.. he finds it so adorable when you try to respond in french, correcting you, finding your effort so loving and thinking that’s wifey material right there
i only know how to count in french so apologies anon xx
when he's talking to you about something, especially when he's passionate about it, and you try really hard to follow along but you're only picking up a few words now and then but you're trying you're hardest to understand and give a response to him. his heart bursts at you trying to formulate a response, stumbling over the french words that don't feel quite right coming out of your mouth yet, but he doesn't laugh at you for getting anything wrong he just gives you a kiss on the head and corrects you gently. he finds himself talking to you in french more often, nothing crazy but little sentences to encourage your learning of his language. when you guys are in bed he speaks to you softly in french, and ur saying goodnight to him in french and he just swoons, pulling you in tighter to him as he thinks about the ring that's been in his drawer for a few weeks now.
inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3
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gyudons · 1 year
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i watch football for the plot
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ballsbalb · 28 days
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the France FA banning muslim players from practicing during the most sacred month in their religion is the most unhinged, disgusting and shameful thing I think I’ve ever seen a national team do.
And, what? Under the guise of ‘well they can’t play if they’re fasting’? tell that to Benzema, or Salah, or half the France team who have never once turned down a national team during the month of Ramadan, because they are committed to a country who is not committed to them.
disgusting.
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dom-arktos · 1 year
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Me seeing all the Europeans and gringos using terms such as "dirty" football only when referring to non-European playing styles:
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[ID: A meme that says, "fuck European football supremacists, all my homies hate European football supremacists". End ID]
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gulski2 · 1 year
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This is Kylian Mbappe’s villain origin story
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cheekyoreo · 1 year
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so france is playing the final again ok fine congrats whatever morocco was the first african nt to get to a semifinal and this is the only conversation i’ll be willing to have until sunday
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mountsmason · 1 year
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Conflicting Emotions; Part 1
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summary: it was the world cup quarter-finals, with your national team England playing against France. so it was less than ideal to have a French boyfriend, as it would leave one of you completely dejected.
pairing: any French player x reader, slightly mason mount x reader
a/n: needed some angst in my life so I wrote this :))
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The final whistle blew, signalling the match was over. A sudden heaviness overcame your body as you inhaled a shallow breath.
England lost the quarter-finals against France.
The atmosphere divided into two, with half the stadium erupting in sheer euphoria while the other half fell silent. Utter devastation spread amongst England supporters, as this was the outcome we were all dreading. You heard your heart shatter at the sight of your national team collapsing on the ground in anguish, trying to console themselves after having lost their chance at winning the World Cup.
You truly believed the England team gave it everything, so you were inexplicably proud of what they had achieved. All you wanted to do in that moment was hug each of them and reassure them that they played incredibly well with so much determination and passion. You glanced around the stadium, your eyes landing on your ex-boyfriend Mason, who had his face buried in his hands as the French team celebrated behind him.
Seeing Mason vulnerable like that reluctantly revived the memories of the Euros final— the same pain and heartbreak. You remember how Mason was inconsolable for days after the loss, taking a while to come to terms with how close they were to winning the final, but you were there to constantly reassure him. Despite it being a difficult time, Mason made sure you knew how much he appreciated you being there for him. A few months later, you two mutually agreed to break up and still remain good friends.
In an attempt to drown out the noise and memories, you squeezed your eyes shut while a stream of uncontrollable tears rolled down your face. Everyone’s hopes and dreams for England winning this year’s World Cup ended the second the whistle was blown. The noise didn't seem to quiet down, so you lifted your heavy eyelids, to see the French players sprinting chaotically around the pitch in a frenzy of celebration while the England players were consoling each other.
Your gaze drifted between different players, and that’s when you saw him. Your boyfriend had that perfect, irresistible grin tugging at his lips as he embraced his team; a sense of guilt washed over you. He is through to the semi-finals, so as his girlfriend, you should be ecstatic for him, yet here you are completely heartbroken at the result. Dare you say, you feel a slight resentment toward his national team. It's not fair on him, and you're well aware of it. He’s worked equally as hard as the England team to get to this stage, so you should be proud of him.
At that sudden realisation, you wiped away your tears with your sleeves before he noticed you. But it was already too late; he had seen your tear-stained cheeks, and his smile immediately faded from his face as his expression softened with worry. Under your breath, you muttered “shit,” knowing that you had ruined this moment for him.
Giving him a small smile, you pointed in the direction of the French team, telling him to enjoy himself and celebrate. He didn’t move. His gaze remained fixed on you as his brows furrowed, trying to study your expression. You gave him a more genuine smile and mouthed “go,” tilting your head towards where his team was. He slowly shuffled backwards in uncertainty, a small laugh escaping you, as he was still staring at you to see if you really were okay with it. And you were; at the end of the day, you loved to see him succeed, even if that meant winning against your own team.
The England players didn’t waste any more time on the pitch as they came into the stands, where their families and friends were waiting for them. You were also sitting here with Sasha, as you became close friends with her when you were dating Mason. While you were talking about the match with her, you saw some players trying to put on a brave face as they managed a faltering smile before completely breaking down when being comforted by their family and friends.
Mason dragged his feet up the stairs to meet his family, who were seated in the row in front of you. For a split second, your eyes met his red and puffy ones, and you knew he was in a worse state now compared to the Euros final. You watched him melt into his mum’s arms as she hugged him tightly, while his family members all took turns reassuring him and reminding him that he's done the nation proud, regardless of the result. Shortly after, Jack made his way upstairs, instantly looking for comfort in Sasha’s arms.
Mason stood on the stairs when he was finished talking to his family. He was covering his face with one hand, and rubbing his eyes while his back rested on the handrail. You took this opportunity to talk to him.
“Hey, how are you holding up?” You spoke gently with a reassuring smile as Mason moved his hand away from his face.
“Not too bad,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
“Really Mason? You’re forgetting I can tell when you’re lying,” you tilt your head in the direction he was staring, trying to get him to look at you.
“I’m okay,” his voice was frail and quiet as he continued to avoid your gaze. Mason’s eyes were glossy as he fought back tears, his bottom lip trembling ever so slightly.
"Just come here," you reach up to wrap your arms around the back of Mason's neck, pulling him in for a hug. That’s when he gave up his pretence of being fine, as he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist to hold you close. He buried his head in your shoulder, letting out a muffled sob that only you could have heard. The sound of Mason breaking down was enough to flood your eyes with tears, so you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from turning into a sobbing mess.
As your attention was fixed on Mason, you didn't notice your boyfriend watching the two of you. He was aware of your history, and because of that, he didn't know how to feel. From one perspective, he understands how a huge loss can be so devastating, so Mason will need everyone there for him, even if that includes you. But on the other hand, he can't help but feel a little jealous considering Mason was your first love and everyone knows you don’t forget them. So he was torn in that moment, the same way you were about England losing and France winning. But before his mind can conjure up the worst, his friend drags him back into the group celebration.
“You did great, all of you; you should be so proud of yourself,” Mason simply hummed in response, taking in rapid and shallow breaths as you felt your shirt dampen with his tears.
"You've given us so many amazing memories to look back on in the future. It wasn't meant to be this time, but there's another World Cup just around the corner," you reassured him, not knowing whether your words would make a difference to how Mason is feeling right now.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, because you've done us proud, you've done me proud," you felt Mason's breathing become more even against your skin.
The two of you stayed like that, with no-one interrupting you. Mason had forgotten how safe he felt in your arms, the way it silenced everything around him, and suddenly everything became more bearable. A few minutes passed before Mason lifted his head to look you in the eyes.
"How do you do it?" Mason asked, searching your eyes for the answer.
"Do what?" Your voice was barely a whisper as you brushed away the tears from his face.
"You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better," 
“It’s not difficult when I’m being honest,” you shrugged your shoulders, giving him a smile he found impossible not to return.
"Thank you, it means a lot to me that you are here," you pulled away from the hug as his grip on your waist loosened.
“You don’t have to thank me; I’m just doing what any good friend would do,” you replied, as your gaze wandered around the stadium, watching some fans begin to leave. Mason winced at this; for those few minutes, he forgot that you two were not together anymore.
"Yeah, friends," his voice was monotonous as he looks onto pitch to see your boyfriend still celebrating. You were about to say goodbye, but Mason had something else on his mind.
"Why are you with him?" His question caught you off-guard, an icy contempt flashing in his eyes.
"Mason—" you began before being interrupted.
"No, seriously, why are you actually with him? Do you guys even have anything in common? Surely you can do better than that," he narrowed his darkened eyes as they burned into the back of your boyfriend’s head in envy.
"That is my boyfriend you're talking about, and you don't know the first thing about our relationship. I’ll let your comments slide just this once because I know your emotions are running high, but next time I won't hold back," you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief as you grabbed your handbag and explained to Sasha that you would call her later.
"Y/N, I'm sorry!" Mason called out as you walked up the stairs and out of the stadium.
➪ read part two here
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gafftapemyheart · 1 year
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queenielacy · 1 year
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France being the embodiment of waiting until the last minute to start working on your assignment
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certainsaturn · 13 days
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and plays piano as well
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didishawn · 1 year
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Jules with an inexperienced girl and an innocence kink being so vocal about it im begging 🤭
Purity ring (Jules Koundé x Reader) smut
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Warnings: smut, Jules teaches you how to feel real good, mentions of purity ring
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From the first time he saw you, Jules had the inmense need to ruin you, wanting to keep that pretty ring adorning your finger for himself.
You were perfect for him, of that was sure in your first conversation, he had to have you for himself, and instead of being offended when you turned down going back to his place as any other man would be, it made him want you even more as he saw your rosy cheeks as you explained it was not that you didn't want to, it's just that you were a virgin who wanted her first time to be perfect.
From that very same day, Jules started courting you, and not only because he wanted to fuck you -but honestly he was dying to fuck you, but also because you were probably the most interesting girl he has ever met.
It took months to go further than the making out stage, you would always end up blushing and pulling away when his hands rested on your waist and you felt yourself grinding into him while sitting on his lap.
First you wanted to learn how to get him off, he found it so cute how you would whine about your arm getting tired while stroking him up and down, your little hand couldn't even wrap fully around him, ring shiny around your finger, representing purity when your actions were the complete opposite. When he painted his stomach white, you looked so adorable with flushed cheeks when you asked if you could taste it, moaning when he entered two fingers into your mouth and had your tongue wrapping around them.
You then ask him to teach you how to suck his cock and he almost had a stroke at how cute you looked while doing so, kitten licks to his tip as you milked him, you couldn't fit all of him and multiple times you entered coughing fits at the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, he had never cummed so hard.
"So fucking cute, my little cock sucker, had no idea how to do it yet had me in heaven" he groaned after his orgasm, breathing heavily, eyes shiny when he saw you swallow his cum, the taste so delicious to you, it had you obsessed.
He couldn't believe it the day he got home early to find you grinding against his pillow, tears in your eyes as you begged him to help you with the tingle in your pussy, you couldn't cum, only he could help your frustrated self.
He took the pillow away from you and his big hands were on you, pushing you so your back was against the bed, opening your legs and getting in between them.
His lips wrapped around your clit, fingers inside you as you whined and squirmed, so sensitive, it made him want yo eat you whole at how adorable you looked.
"Jules, I feel like I am going to pee!" you had whined and he grinned in between your folds.
"Cum for me darling, let me make you feel so good, let go sweetheart, my pretty girl"
From then on, you were obsessed with his hands on you making you reach your extasis, every afternoon waiting for him, laying on your bed, legs open for him to dive into them.
The day he finally got to fuck you, was they day he could die a happy man.
Fully in control he had you grinding into him, moaning and whining trying to get his cocvk inside you, begging for him to help you relieve yourself.
He almost cummed when he felt your walls around him, so tight, milking him as he fucked into you, you looked so cute, taking him so good being your first time, his cock so big inside you.
He fucked you for multiple round that night, had you on all fours, riding him, legs over his shoulders, traditional missionary, standing uip in the shower, sideways, always rutting into you.
He loved how your little ring looked on a chain wrapped around your neck, ignoring the glaring your father directed towards him when he met the man for the first time, having robbed his daughter of all her innocence, having made you his little whore, for his cock only.
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