#rmfc
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yall can blame the board/owners all you want for virgil & mo’s situations, but trent very clearly had his mind made up for a year now & was never gonna stay, no matter how good an offer he was given.
given the news is true, he’s made the decision to abandon his supposed principles & leave his boyhood club on a free for an institution that has never been anything more than a beacon of artificiality and one-dimensional politics, and that’s a decision he’s allowed to make— but we absolutely don’t have to like it. it’s slimy and it’s incredibly disingenuous as someone who always spoke about retiring with the club, and no amount of ‘but but but’s and bs justification will ever change that. he’s desecrating his legacy in favor of greed. it’s just incredibly disappointing, especially since he’s been my favorite player for years & i stupidly believed him wholeheartedly when he claimed he loved the city & would retire at liverpool. i suppose that’s on me for expecting rich men to have any principles, lol
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DYING ffs 😭😂😭😭
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my sweet, handsome boy. 💕
#kylian#kylian mbappe#kylian fluff#kylian imagines#kylian x oc#kylian smut#mbappe one shot#kylian angst#real madrid#rmfc#real madrid fc#mbappe#kylian x you#kylian mbappe imagines#kylian mbappe fanfic#kylian mbappe fic#kylian x reader#kylian fanfic#kylian lottin mbappé
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Footy bros always have something to say about 'fangirls', but they are ones currently sooo overreacting on twt and reddit it's pathetic.
Calm your tits bro, footy is not that serious
We girlies here are pretty chill if you ask me
#and they are loosing their last hairs from their balding heads but it's us who are a problem#real madrid#rmfc
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Question my little madridistas!
No footy and we have nothing better to do, so....👏
Saw on twt - You don`t choose a football club. Anyone who does is fake. The club chooses you. It just hits you unaware and you naturally find yourself deep in love with it.
So how did Madrid chose you? I'm interested on what brought you to this manicomio?
I'll start - year 2008, ex communist block, we all still piss poor, but new digital television appears that people can actually afford, one channel (in our language!) broadcast la liga, everyone in my school watches, everyone splits between Barca and Real Madrid, Madrid chooses me, rest 18 years is history. 🤍🤍I vividly remember watching matches with my grandma, she couldn't pronounce Ronaldo, so she kept calling him Rolandas, our neighbours name..
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#i want them to **** ** ** *** **** ****#bisexual culture#paige bueckers#jude bellingham#real madrid cf#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball#edit#paige bueckers edit#jude bellingham edit#rmfc
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You knows the funniest thing is that Jacobo Ramon and Jesus Vallejo prevented barca from winning la liga for another day ✌️✌️✌️

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📸: Steven Halliwell
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i think mbappe’s absolute insanity has been overlooked by real’s underwhelming season like 43 goals in ONE season is fucking insane
#i BEEN a mbappe lover#he’s a sweet boy#i just don’t think that real madrid’s whole gimmick of signing the biggest names in football works#real madrid#rmfc#kylian mbappe
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part 2
#he looks so good in all of this pics#football#soccer#real madrid#rmfc#jude victor willliam bellingham#jude#jude bellingham#bellingham#jb22#jb5
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NEW JUDE DUMP
#soccer#football#jude victor willliam bellingham#jude#jude bellingham#bellingham#real madrid#rmfc#jb22#jb5
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oh jude, you are such a beautiful man
#he's so pretty#glad they showed him#f1#formula 1#formula uno#formula one#jude victor willliam bellingham#jude#jude bellingham#bellingham#jb22#jb5#real madrid#rmfc#soccer#football#spanish gp 2025
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Millennium
warnings: supernatural, mature themes (mentions of murder, smut 18+)
A/n: And I’m not sure how well AUs do on here in terms of fan fiction but I really love the range it offers. If this test run doesn’t do well I’ll just delete and stick to the evil I know 😅
Part 1: Medina.

Minnesota is a charming state, truly; especially the small town of Medina. It depends on what one's idea of charming is, she supposes; but for Aleena, charming means lots of nature, peacefully quiet and not overly populated. Not like where she grew up in Brooklyn where it was always loud with the blaring of car horns or music from some speaker or chattering from the neighbors; or where there are just a clustering of buildings in an overpopulated neighborhood without a sighting of a tree for miles. Aleena loves this town because she has always longed for quiet; it also wasn’t easy when her introverted spirit was often mistaken for snobbishness. She tried making her face as pleasant as possible, she smiled and waved at everyone in her vicinity when she went outside to make a trip to the store or school. But she heard the whispers all the same and her mother chastised her every day for trying to other herself from her community. So Aleena was ecstatic when she graduated University, not nearly as happy for the accomplishment of earning a degree as she was for the opportunity it provided for her to move away. She loves her mother and her two younger sisters dearly, but not nearly enough to have even considered staying in Brooklyn. Aleena isn’t sure if this means her love isn’t as profound or unconditional enough but she doesn’t really think about it too deeply. Besides, she stays in touch, helps out financially and visits during holidays. So yes, she loves the charming little town, except for when she works late shifts at the hospital and has to navigate her way through the still, foggy night by herself. One of the cons of living in a small town like this is that night life barely exists. Almost every person is in their homes by 9 pm except rare occasions like Christmas or New Year’s eve. The last bus is off the road by 10 pm and she, unfortunately, gets off work at 11. The hospital is fifteen minutes away from her apartment by foot and she hasn’t had a problem getting home from her late shift for the past year she’s been doing this, but the quiet of the night still makes goosebumps break out along her arms and her spine shiver. Aleena releases a harsh exhale through her mouth that's accompanied by a cloud of fog as she huddles into her thick jacket. Temperatures in this town late at night, no matter the season, are no joke, but they’re now on the cusp of fall and the constant rainfall makes it worse. Aleena chokes on her breath, feet jumping cleanly off the wet concrete beneath her blue crocs at the loud crashing noise that comes from the alleyway to her right. It’s immediately followed by loud meowing and hissing and she sucks in a deep breath in an attempt to calm the fluttering in her chest. They’re just cats, breathe. She regains her stride but picks up her pace a little more as the tell- tale prickling at the back of her neck alerts that she’s being watched. Again. Aleena swears she isn’t going crazy. She knows she watches too many True Crime documentaries and she suffers from a little paranoia, but she knows what it feels like when she’s being watched and it has been happening for the past six months now on her treks home. She has brought it up with her coworkers at the hospital and even with her mom and sisters back home, but they all tell her she’s just antsy from walking home alone in the dark. Some of her coworkers were mindful to offer her rides when they share the same shift after her revelation, but on most occasions, their shifts just don't align or they work overtime.
“I swear on everything, my next purchase will be a car. I don’t care if I don’t eat for the next few months.”
She whispers brokenly to herself while her eyes dart around every inch of her surroundings like a cornered animal. Aleena is suddenly flooded by a pair of bright yellow-ish lights and the low hum of an engine as a van creeps by her. There are two men in the two- seater rusty red vehicle and they eye her intently as they pass by. She holds eye contact. Men are like wild animals, they feed on fear so she’s careful not to show any even as her very bones shiver. Just as the truck was about to go out of sight, it does an abrupt u-turn in the middle of the empty road and begins speeding in her direction again. Aleena freezes for all of two seconds that feels like too long before she makes a sprint in the direction of the alley. The roads are too open, and she can’t run home without getting caught. Her best bet was to either run across the street and into the woods or into the dark alley and hope there are some back passages to evade them in. The woods are a no go. That’s the first warning she got from her coworkers when she moved into town. She hasn’t asked why, she just assumed it has something to do with wild animals but it doesn’t matter, she didn’t need to be told to not wander off into the dark, thick, overgrown forest. The squeak of the truck doors’ hinges reaches her ear just as she’s swallowed by the gaping, dark entrance of the alley. The smell is enough to make her gag even in fight and flight mode. She shouldn’t be surprised, this is where everyone in the surrounding area dumps their garbage until the trucks come for biweekly collection. But she didn’t expect it would smell like rotting flesh and sewage. It doesn’t matter, is what she tells herself as she runs while ignoring the bile rising in the back of her throat. Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t-
The footfalls behind her are louder. Closer. She pushes herself faster even as her right foot splashes water from a puddle on the bottom of her blue scrubs. She falters, but presses on as if her life depends on it. It might. She skids to halt, trepidation weighing her stomach down as she comes face to face with a red brick wall. It’s a dead end; fitting name she supposes. She swallows thickly as the thundering footsteps slow to light jogs then eventually rhythmic footsteps.
“Nowhere else to run, pretty lady?” The masculine voice drawls smugly.
She turns to face them. They’re both pot- bellied caucasian men with thinning brunette hair and thick, unkempt beards. The taller barely stands above her 5”7 height while the other might be just an inch shorter than she is but they’re both stocky so she knows this is a fight she can’t win.
“What do you want?” She asks firmly. She squares her shoulders and holds her head high, pretending she isn’t intimidated. ‘Real believable considering you ran’ her brain unhelpfully supplies.
“Well, you’re all lonely on the road. Thought you might want some company.” The other responds with a voice that sounds like it has been the victim to years of tobacco abuse.
“ I don’t know what gave that impression but I’m fine.” Her voice quivers toward the end of her sentence and it’s obvious they caught on. Their smirks broaden as they share a look.
“Well that’s too bad, because we’d like some company.”
Aleena balls her hands into fists as they begin approaching. If she’s going down, she isn’t going to make it easy. She might not look it, but after years of pilates strength training she knows she can leave a few bruises at least. Tears prick at her eyes and she chokes on the rapid inhales she greedily takes to steady her shivering form. Aleena blinks, then there’s the splash of something very warm and wet against her face and neck. She gasps; eyes squeezing shut. She reopens them to find only one man now standing before her.
“What the fuck- Gary?!” The remaining man calls out, terrified. He spins his whole body around, eyes darting about the dark alleyway. He’s hyperventilating and she should be too; but she can only tentatively bring her hand to touch the warm liquid against her face. Her hand comes back in her line of vision painted crimson red. Blood. There’s blood on her face. Her eyes survey her body to find her sweater also soaked with blood. Gary’s blood.
“What did you do?!” The man yells at her, eyes crazed.
Aleena opens her mouth but can only gasp as the man suddenly disappears in front of her very eyes like his friend just did. Aleena waits, frozen. Afraid that if she moves a muscle she’ll also get snatched up by the shadows. The night has seemed to have gotten even more still than before. Not even the constant chirping of crickets or other insects she’d usually hear. It’s so chilling and all too much. She doubles over and empties the contents of her stomach all over her blue crocs.
#jude bellingham#football#football fanfic#jude bellingham x black reader#black woman#soccer#real madrid#jude bellingham x reader#rmfc
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The way I agree to lose everything this season if it means Carlo gets sacked and my boy gets to come home.
Some people never saw Xabi play for us or were too young to really remember and it shows.. The aura this man has..
(Fuck the titles for a minute think about how we would play football...like really play football that won't make you want to gouge your eyes out..I have a dream)
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