dailywusiala

[dailywusiala]

wusiala as tumblr/twitter posts

[dailywusiala]

Cover art for the little steps/big leaps series by @wusialaforeva. I just love this universe so much I’m so hung up on it!

[dailywusiala]

Flo & Jamu in the documentary "Unser Team - Die Heim-EM 2024" available on rtl+ in germany.

they were sitting across each other in the dining hall(?)! unfortunately no jamal content in the documentary and only a very short interview with Flo...

I had the honor to visit the premiere, its a cute documentary but not really a lot of new content. a lot of what was shown was previously uploaded on YouTube.

[dailywusiala]

[dailywusiala]

I've been stalking some sports photographers on instagram and I'm delighted to say that I've actually been finding new pictures 😭😭

pictures dated 18.11.2024

[dailywusiala]

⋆.˚𓅆𓂃𓃦₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚𓇢𓆸𓍼 ོ☁︎𓂃 ོ𐂂𓍼 ☁︎𓅯⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

wusiala yaelokre edit 𓃦

𐂂 cr bayernscenes

[dailywusiala]

wusiala in the dfb 2024 post

[dailywusiala]

[dailywusiala]

[dailywusiala]

very late but merry christmas to those who celebrate!

to update everyone; jamal is spending the holidays in NYC, yesterday he was at a basketball game with his little sister, today he was at one with Michael. Flo is spending the holidays on vacation with his family and Aaliyah in the mountains somewhere!

[dailywusiala]

big recommendation

Merry Christmas everyone!! My gift to you

[dailywusiala]

Why musiala always posting up woth his family minus his dad??like whatsapp with that?

afaik his parents are divorced and his dad lives in england. he does talk about him from time to time like in these interviews:

[dailywusiala]

merry christmas to those who celebrate!

i posted a small christmas one-shot

rated explicit

[dailywusiala]

42 tbps • wusiala wip

a new fic idea I’ve been planning for a while. Pastry chef flo who doesn’t know much about anything or anyone outside of his circle and jamal an upcoming bayern star who takes a liking to the resident baker. still in progress here’s a snippet

The air outside carried the earthy tang of rain, lingering in cracks and crevices like a memory on the cobbled streets of Munich. The sky above stretched in long ribbons of grey, draping the city in a hushed stillness that felt almost sacred. Flo always liked mornings like this—the kind that slowed the world down just enough for him to breathe and sort everything out before the bustle of crowds came streaming in.

The patisserie felt warmer on days like this, the glow of the overhead lights making the fogged window panes appear soft and dreamlike, as if the world outside had been painted in watercolors. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of vanilla and caramelized sugar, wrapping around Flo like an old friend. It made the quiet feel less empty.

At the counter, rows of fruit tarts gleamed under the soft golden light, their glossy surfaces catching faint reflections of the room. A fresh tray of Nussecken sat cooling behind him, their chocolate-dipped edges still soft and glossy, the pieces laid out in uneven rows. Flo liked it that way—imperfect but inviting.

He brushed the last traces of flour from his apron and glanced at the clock. Almost time to open.

Near the register, Juliane sat with one leg folded beneath her, flipping lazily through the newspaper she brought every morning from the train station. She wasn’t reading it, not really. Her eyes kept drifting to the window, watching raindrops slide down the glass in slow trails.

“You made the strudel today, right?” she asked without looking up, as if she already knew the answer.

Flo leaned back against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. “Like always. If I didn’t you’d be the first to start complaining.”

She peeked over the top of the paper, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “At least you know me well.”

There was a beat of silence until the bell over the door chimed softly, cutting through the low hum of the patisserie.

Flo’s eyes flicked up by instinct, but the man who stepped inside wasn’t a regular. He was tall, with dark curls half-hidden beneath a cap pulled low over his forehead. His jacket looked slightly too big for him, hands shoved deep into the pockets. He hesitated just inside the entrance, dragging the bottom of his boots over the welcome doormat to dry off the remnants of the outside weather. His eyes scanned the room like he wasn’t sure if he belonged here.

Tourist, Flo thought. They drifted in sometimes, especially when the rain chased people off the main streets.

“Morning,” Flo greeted, stepping behind the register flattening the tail of his apron.

The guy’s gaze lingered on the pastry case, narrowing slightly as if trying to decipher what was behind the glass.

“Morning,” he said after a beat, his German accented—just enough to catch Flo’s ear. “Uh… I’ll take whatever’s good.”

Flo raised a brow, shifting his weight against the counter. “That’s not how this works. You have to pick.” If you asked Flo, everything in the shop was good.

The guy let out a soft laugh looking away at the sweet items and meeting Flo’s gaze for a second. “Yeah, see, the thing is… I don’t know what half of these are. I just want something sweet.”

Juliane lowered her paper slowly, watching the exchange with poorly hidden amusement.

Flo suppressed a sigh, leaning over the display case. He tapped the glass lightly, pointing to the neat row of pastries. “Start simple. Apfelstrudel, Nussecken, or Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte if you’re feeling brave.”

The guy’s head tilted slightly, eyes catching on the tarts. “I’ll take… one of those.”

Flo glanced up. “The Himbeertarte?”

“I don’t know. The red one.”

Flo’s lips twitched despite himself. “Right. One red tart, coming up.”

Juliane’s quiet chuckle didn’t escape him as he boxed the pastry, folding the paper with practiced ease.

“That’ll be 4,20,” Flo said, sliding the box toward him.

The guy shifted, patting his pockets like he’d forgotten how money worked. After an awkward moment of fumbling, he produced a handful of coins—more than necessary—and crumpled cash that looked like it had gone through the wash.

“Sorry, I—uh, here,” he said, holding out the entire handful, as if letting Flo sort through it would somehow speed things along.

Flo stared at it for a second, unsure whether to be amused or mildly concerned. Slowly, he began counting, plucking the right coins from the disorganized mess in the man’s palm.

“Bit much,” Flo muttered under his breath, dropping the rest of the change back into the guy’s hand.

The man hesitated. “Keep it. For the next one.”

Flo blinked. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Or tip. I don’t know.” The guy smiled, and it wasn’t sheepish this time—just easy, like he didn’t mind.

Flo shrugged, sliding the extra change into the tip jar by the register. His gaze flickered back toward Juliane, whose smirk had only deepened.

“Anything else?” Flo asked, trying to ignore her stare.

The guy’s eyes drifted back to the display case, as if something else had caught his attention.

“Actually—can I get five more things?”

Flo’s hand stilled halfway to the jar. “Five?”

The guy nodded, resting his elbows lightly against the counter. “Yeah. Whatever you like best.”

Flo gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t even know what they are.”

The man grinned again, leaning in slightly. “Doesn’t matter. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

Flo huffed softly but started pulling pastries from the case, carefully boxing them up one by one.

Juliane watched, chin resting on her hand as she elbowed the newspaper aside. Her expression said everything she wasn’t saying out loud.

As the guy left, balancing the box under his arm, Flo caught the faint creak of Juliane’s chair as she stood, stretching lazily.

“You didn’t know who that was, did you?” she asked, voice laced with barely contained laughter.

Flo barely glanced at her. “A customer.”

She snorted softly. “Oh, Flo. Sometimes I think you live under a rock.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Juliane grabbed her coat, the lingering grin never leaving her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your day.”

Flo frowned, watching her disappear into the back kitchen.

He didn’t think much of it.

The rest of the morning passed in the same quiet rhythm—kneading dough, humming softly to the patter of rain against the windowpanes.

Lemme know what you think about this

[dailywusiala]

SOMEONE WRITE THAT PLEASE 😭😭😭

Jamal gave a KidsClub press conference an when asked about his closest friends in the national team he replied

"im cool with many of them, I think im close with Flo"

[dailywusiala]

Jamal gave a KidsClub press conference an when asked about his closest friends in the national team he replied

"im cool with many of them, I think im close with Flo"

[dailywusiala]

Jamal interview for Sport Bild (Nr.51/52 18.12.24)

eng trans

(I didn't have the time to translate it myself, please forgive me)