blueaetherr

[blueaetherr]

JULES KOUNDÉ The Bridge : S01-E04 | Ft Ousmane Dembélé, Jules Koundé & Thomas Ngijol

[blueaetherr]

guys will dress like this and wonder why you can guess where they’re from 😭

This video always kills me and I feel like we need to talk about it because it's Aurélien core

I remember when he first posted it, me and @hopefulromantic1 were crying because there was SO much to unpack

The sparkly jacket (I think he made this the only video in his summer photo dump so we'd see the shimmer)

The skinny, ripped jeans (with the loose thread hanging plssss 😭)

The red and white nikes with an all black fit

The way he's not looking at the camera and casually adjusting his jacket to make it look like a candid 🤣

The fact that he's made the cameraman go up a few stairs to take the video from above for a better angle

And ofc his TCHM melting font necklace 😫 (also seen in these pics)

[blueaetherr]

JULES KOUNDÉ DISCOVER OUR NEW THIRD KIT 24/25 | FC BARCELONA 💚

[blueaetherr]

MY HEART 😭❤️

[blueaetherr]

Oh my goodness this is absolutely so sweet!!!!

[blueaetherr]

Jude has nothing to smile about since his husband isn’t here.

[blueaetherr]

thank you pedro 🙏🏾

[blueaetherr]

The racism among Trent girls is truly disgusting. All of you who want a black man with black features and persist to degrade black people and black women should be ashamed.

If you follow me and you have even a drop of anti black mindset in you I want you to unfollow me immediately.

You are a virus to this platform and I want you gone.

[blueaetherr]

Mykhailo Mudryk, 5-0

v FC Noah (H)

[blueaetherr]

more jude fics I beggg

where do we go?

pairing: jude bellingham x black oc warning: angst content: she finds her way to his house after midnight with no other thought besides where they move forward from here. reference: where do we go by andra day an: engagement is always appreciated, and highly encouraged. I hope you enjoy <3 tags: @mauvecherie-writes @emjayewrites @neewrites @saintslewis @boujiestpoet @vile-harlot @greedyjudge2 @cocobutterqwueen @cosmic-parker @blueaetherr + let me know if you want to be added/removed!

It was past midnight. The dark sky cried bitterly, its tears streaming down in sheets, drenching the earth below. Loud wails and heavy sobs shook the ground. Who was she missing? Perhaps the sun, her lover who disappeared for hours at a time. Warming her atmosphere for a few short hours before abandoning her for the light sky, leaving her cold and lonely in his absence,

Evelyn Alena watched the winding road intently. Her bright headlights cut through the blanket of rain. The storm's weight felt so heavy, so consuming, that it was suffocating. Her hands twisted around the steering wheel. Her knuckles turned white as she focused on an unknown destination; her eyes narrowed against the glare of the rain. 

While consciously, she had no destination, her heart had directed her brain to follow its created roadmap. It had driven her there, through familiar pathways and past streets with cars against the shoulder. It pulled her with a force she couldn’t name but couldn’t resist. 

The rhythm of the windshield wipers played a steady beat against the haunting melody of the storm. Thump. Thump. Thump. Clashing thunderclaps caused a sudden dissonance in the rhythm of nature. She jumped in her seat. She should go home, she told herself. There was still time to turn around and go home before it got too dangerous. But she kept driving. Her car moved slowly and steadily through the rain, hissing as it passed the large puddles at the road's edge.

Then she saw it. At the corner of the street, where it’d always been. Sitting pretty, strong in stature. An inanimate memory, holding safe the love she had wrapped in flesh. She hesitated, foot hovering over the brake, heart pounding in her ears. She made the turn.

Woodman Ave.

Familiar ground. Echoes of old footsteps. Laughter still lingered in the corners. She could almost see her and Jude walking those sidewalks, playing ball in the backyard (though she wasn’t very good), and throwing water balloons at each other during family cookouts. She could see the love between them. She blinked, and the ghosts disappeared.

She pulled into the driveway slowly. Her fingers switched the light, which let the house rest in darkness. Her breath hitched. Had she made a mistake? She couldn’t get in her head too much. She’d already made it this far.

She got out of the car and closed the door quietly. Within seconds, she was drenched. Yet, she didn’t move with urgency. One foot after another, she counted how many footsteps it took to get from the driveway to the front door. 15. 

She lifted her hand to knock but hesitated. What was she so afraid of? She’d already driven to his house during a storm, soaked her clothes like a child, and stood in front of his home. What more was there to be afraid of? 

She gulped. One knock, two knows, three knocks. Silence. 

The knock was quiet. Soft. Like whispers of the leaves during autumn. The door opens slowly. Her former lover, groggy from sleep, caught her silhouette through blurred vision. He blinked a few times. Evie. No words followed. She stood before him as her body shook, shivered, and quaked, evidence of walking in the rain. His eyes met hers—a moment of true recognition and understanding. 

Jude stepped aside, inviting her in. She stepped into the house slowly, water leaving her wake. There were no words to say. He stood behind her, his bare feet damp with rainwater, and peeled the wet coat off her shoulders. He tapped her hip twice, nodding toward the bedroom. 

She shuddered as she stripped out of her clothes. Each article hit the floor with a plop. She stared at herself in the mirror--bare-bodied, bare-faced, and bare-souled. What was she doing? A soft knock caught her attention. 

Without much thought, Jude cracked the door. She didn’t mind it. “Some clothes. Towel for your hair. Another towel for your body...” He handed her a pile of neatly folded clothes. They were hers. Her favorite was an oversized Avengers shirt and old college sweatpants. The towel was a gift from him. Black and microfiber to protect her hair. She wanted to smile. He never got rid of her stuff. 

Her eyes met his. He was tired, but so many emotions were swirling in his chocolate eyes. He was saying something, but she couldn’t make it out.

“Can you…I’m so cold,” she finally spoke through chattering teeth. Jude stepped into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him as if someone would follow. The black towel was thick and heavy in his hands as he wrapped it around her body. She let out a deep breath at the warmth. 

He took the head towel next. He wrapped it around her head, securing it with the string and button. He nodded once. “You okay?” She nodded back. “I’ll leave you to it.” With her damp clothes in his hands, he turned.

He said nothing further when he left. She slid the shirt over her body and shoved her feet into the pant legs. She sighed heavily. 

Her movements were slow as she opened the bathroom door and retreated downstairs. There were perks of living in a small home. Everything was easily accessible, and anyone could be easily found. His body was still against the couch. His finger drew circles around the rim of the pristine water glass, but not once did he pick it up. 

“Feel better?” He asked without turning around. She gulped. Her head bobbed as if she was seen. Her feet shuffled against the tile floor as she circled the couch and stood off. 

Burning ahead was the fireplace. Snap. Crackle. Pop. It warmed the living room and brought light to the desolate atmosphere. “Uh, yeah. Thank you. Room for another?” He lifted his arm, and she slipped under it; she was in her rightful place. 

Silence consumed them. There was much to say, but neither knew where to begin. Evelyn lay on his chest, her eyelids heavy and her vision blurred. Her body shook as it tried to regain its equilibrium from being chilled by the rain. Anxiety-ridden, she was. Nervous and unsure. Yet, the sound of his heartbeat, strong and steady, grounded her. 

Evelyn missed being so close to him. It felt like years, but it had only been a few months. There was a familiarity in how he held her near. Close and comfortable like she’d never left. Her mind raced with questions. Why was she here? Why’d her heart guide her to him?

Jude’s fingers traced absent-minded patterns on her arm. She wanted to ask if he missed her if he thought about her as much as she did him. But the words caught in her throat, held back by an unspoken agreement to simply exist, kept her from complicating it.

The storm began to die down. Violent winds and heavy rainpour tapered into a soft drizzle. It mirrored the quiet between them, a peace settling over the room, though the quiet tension lingered beneath it all. The fire continued to crackle in front of them.

“Jude...” she finally whispered, her voice hardly audible above the fading storm. But she didn’t know what else to say even as she said his name. There was no need. He responded with a quiet hum, his fingers pausing briefly before resuming their familiar dance on her skin.

They lay there like that for what felt like hours. The weight of everything unspoken hung between them, but neither felt the need to break the silence. It was a moment of comfort in confusion. Neither was sure where they would go, but basking in each other’s presence was enough.

[blueaetherr]

LAMINE YAMAL Ballon d'Or 2024: Kopa Trophy Winner

[blueaetherr]

bring salvation back ────── you calm him down after some camera flashes ruined your date night.

⌗ pairing : aurélien tchouaméni x reader ⌗ tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. pre-established relationship with aure. NOT PROOFREAD possibly very shitty. ⌗ wordcount : 849 ⌗ notes : i miss him so much it's a little crazy.... title is from i'll be there by mariah carey,,, heheheh ♡ masterlist.

Neither you nor Aurélien really enjoy having the radio on when you drive in his car. The space between you had always been filled with free-flowing conversations or the music Aurélien listens to, connecting his car to his phone via bluetooth. It’s just odd listening to music or people you don’t know, when each other’s company is perfectly perfect most times you are in his car.

Tonight, though, you decide to have the radio on.

Not that it matters at all really, especially with the voice turned down so low that you can barely hear the announcer’s voice. It’s just something to distract the two of you from the thick tension brewing in the air.

Aurélien is not speaking. Instead, he looks out the window, inhaling deeply and blowing all of the air out in one short exhale.

He did not mean to throw a fit over some fans.

You know he didn’t.

It was just a long day, after a long week, in the middle of a long month; and what was supposed to be the first proper date night the two of you had had in a while, eating in a nice, outdoor restaurant, was ruined by some fans forgetting to turn off their phone flashes.

It was lucky that you managed to drag Aurélien away from the scene just as his voice was breaking from the border of “polite, but stern” and stepping over to “downright rude and insane”.

And now you are in his car, in the restaurant’s parking lot. The engine is turned on and the AC is turned up—against his will, you hold one of his hands hostage on your lap, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Are you calm now?”

Hearing your question, Aurélien let out a breath. It was almost a scoff. Maybe it was a scoff. You don’t argue.

“No,” he murmurs, still hiding his mouth behind his hand as his elbow idles on the armrest of his side of the door.

“Come on,” you squeeze your hand around his even tighter, gently tugging it towards your lap, “Look at me, baby.”

He groans, glancing at you for a moment, and eyebrows raised. “What?”

You offer him a smile, swaying his hand on your lap, and when he catches the corner of his own lips tugging upwards, he shakes his head.

“The management’s gonna be fucking pissed,” he whines, throwing his head back against the headrest as his eyelids flutter close, focusing back on the issue at hand. “They got all that on video, too, it’s probably going viral right now. I hate everything about this.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, your smile dropping. “You’re gonna have fans backing you up, you know.”

He laughs, one eye shooting open to look at you. “Yeah?”

“Tchouméni is human too!” You lift your voice a pitch higher, reciting fake comments from fake fans possibly defending his actions. “You can’t follow him around and expect him to not get angry!”

“Stop it,” he chuckles, lifting his hand, still engulfed in yours, to press a kiss against your knuckles. “They’re technically not doing anything wrong.”

“They were taking pictures of us,” you turn on the passenger seat to look at him.

“Yeah, well, they’re fans,” he sighs, rubbing his free hand over his temples for a moment. In this moment, you can see the regret really settling deep into him—regret over lashing out at those poor people. “It’s kind of what they do, huh? Bet they were in the restaurant before we even came.”

“True fans don’t take pictures without their favourite footballer’s consent and ruin the first date night they had with their partner in a while!” Your “fan” voice comes back, drawing the sweet laugh from his throat once again.

“Babe,” he presses the back of your hand against his mouth to hide his amusement.

“Don’t think about it,” you grin. “You did nothing wrong, right? We paid for our food—we didn’t finish it, but that’s not on us!—and we even tipped the valet and the waitress.”

“Right,” he nods, smiling against the back of your hand. “Alright,” he breathes out, and you can feel his anxiety emanating from the way his breath shakes, “I just gotta worry about this… tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you repeat, nodding your head.

He presses another kiss to your hand, sighing. “Right now, I’ll just be miserable.”

“Not miserable!” You fuss, “Just… don’t think about it.”

“I can’t,” he sinks to the driver’s seat. “I don’t wanna open my phone. You take it, ‘kay, babe? Be my manager for a day.”

“Oh, come on—” You sigh, raising your free hand. “Okay, okay, sure. But if you miss a call from whoever at Équipe de France, it’s not my—”

“Fine, fine!” He groans, looking at you with puppy eyes, and you stick out a tongue at him.

And after a while of trying to fish out some empathy from you, he gives up and brings your jaw closer to press a kiss against your lips.

And you smile against his soft hums.

[blueaetherr]

[blueaetherr]

「 FaceTime | Trent Alexander-Arnold 」

summary: your man facetimes you for a yap sesh before his plane takes off

warnings: contains link to tiktok (not mine) to show restaurant mentioned 💌: this is sooo incredibly self indulgent of me but i had to when i saw that video 🫣 begging someone else to do one so i can read 👀 wc: ~1.0k

Your phone lit up with Trent’s name just as you were finishing adding the final touches to your makeup – lip gloss. You smirked, knowing exactly why he was calling. He was supposed to be on his way to a match, but he couldn’t resist checking in on you. When you answered, he was already grinning ear to ear and you could hear his footsteps making it up the plane’s airstairs.

“Couldn’t even wait til you landed, huh?” you tease, dabbing at your lips. “Such a lover boy.”

He laughed, adjusting the camera so you could see him settle into his seat. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. What’s wrong with me wanting to see my girl before I fly out?”

“Nothing…” you smirked, pressing your lips together to smooth out your lip gloss. “But...you literally just saw me a few hours ago.”

“Can’t help it,” he gave you a cheeky grin and leaned closer to the camera, eyes glued to you through the screen. “That face and voice of yours gets me through the day. What am I meant to do on this plane without hearing you before takeoff?”

Your cheeks were hurting from smiling so much by this point, so you tucked your lips, trying to settle the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. “You’re such a sweet talker, T. Very Libra of you.”

“I’m just being honest, baby,” he mused. “I could listen to you all day and never get enough.”

You tilted your head slightly, softening your voice into playful flirtation. “And I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.”

He smirked, but then he started chomping on his gum which made you roll your eyes. “Boy...you and that gum. What’s that about?”

He tilted his head back, fake annoyed. “Agh, here you go again. It helps me focus, baby.”

“Mhm..sure” you teased, pretending to be skeptical. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to feed your addiction, I guess.”

“Nah, serious. My head is clearer when I’m chewing gum.”

Trent shuffled in his seat a bit as his teammates started settling down around him, and then he lowered his voice, like he didn’t want them to hear him sweet-talking you.

You tried not to laugh, but you couldn’t help it. “Trying to keep your smooth talk on the low, huh? Don’t want your boys to know you’re soft for me?”

He grinned, his gaze still fixated on you. “Trust me, they already know.” Trent pulled his phone back a bit and his thumb hovered over the screen like he was about to tap a button. The telltale sign of a screenshot being taken popped up on your phone and you squinted at the screen.

“Are you taking pictures of me?” you asked playfully accusatively, striking a playful pose for him.

“Yeah I am,” he flashed you a cheeky grin. “Gotta capture how good you look right now.”

Him gassing you up like that had you feeling very flirty, so you played along and gave him a few more poses before sliding into a sultry one. You leaned forward just enough, pretending you were fixing your lip gloss so you could give him a nice view of your cleavage cutting dangerously low in your dress.

Trent’s eyes widened and he looked around, trying to hide his phone. “Nah, save that for when I’m alone” he teased, but you saw him quickly snap another screenshot anyway.

“Mmm..seems like you liked it though?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I did… But I won’t keep you too long..gotta let you get on with your night. Girls night, right?”

You nodded, running your hands over your hair to adjust two strands of your braids to frame your face. “You have to make an assist or get a goal tonight..I’m not playing with you,” you bantered, narrowing your eyes.

“Oh, you giving me a challenge, huh? May have to look at those pics I just took to help me pull off something special on the pitch,” he winked. “All for you.” You were too busy still messing with your hair to respond, but you heard him and gave him an eye roll because he was being extremely corny. A couple of silent seconds followed before he added, “When I’m back we’re going to Fenix. Already have date night planned out.”

The thought of a date he planned himself made you smile and gave you something a little extra to look forward to. “It doesn't sound like I have much of a choice..but I’m down regardless.” you said jokingly, still fiddling with your braids to pull the curly pieces in place perfectly. Trent’s gaze lingered on his screen for a moment, his voice dropping a notch as he watched you in awe.

“Damn. I can’t wait to get back home to you. Enjoy your night, alright?”

“Yeah..” you replied back softly, blown away by how intense this Facetime call was. Trent always had a way of making you feel like no distance could dull the connection the two of you shared, even if it was through pixels on a screen at the moment. “Good luck tonight, T.” You blew him a kiss with your hand. “I love you.”

You noticed someone next to him lean into view, clearly trying to get in on the moment. A snicker came from off-screen – probably Szobo.

“I love you too,” Trent said in a low tone before quickly shoving Szobo back out of the frame. “Ring me when you get back home?”

You nodded. “I will. Byeee, miss you already.”

“Same. Bye, baby.” he echoed, and the screen went back to your home screen.

You sat there for a moment staring at the screen, completely mesmerised by what was supposed to be a simple Facetime call.

This silly, gum chewing, puppy eyed, bow legged man shouldn’t have you wrapped around his finger like this, yet here you were grinning ear to ear like an absolute idiot.

Another victim of a charismatic Libra man...but you liked it.

[blueaetherr]

black girls,

write the content you want.

i’m serious.

idc if you think it’s gonna flop.

idc if you think you’re a terrible writer or artist.

idc if you believe that character/celebrity/athlete/whoever likes black girls or not. (who cares what the fandom says anyway!)

idc if you’re the first and only one to start that _____ x black reader tag.

make the content you want to see!

do it for you most importantly! (you will inspire others ofc)

in conclusion, you won’t get it if you won’t make it.