Reblogged creamecafe
Reblogged
ֹ #⃝ bios for you ˳⠀꒰꧞ ˃ ⌔ ˂ ིྀ꒱ ۫ ݂
⣿ ݁. ݂֯. l♡ve file͟s 𓈒 𓈒 ⠀ ㅤ
໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ ꒱ᩙა ⠀8tēen ˖ ♡͝ ݁ ֢ ݁
⠀
૮ . ̫ . ა๑ my idol 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 🥄
₊ ֗ 𓊆ྀི ぬいぐるみ ˖ ♡
ㅤ𓊆ྀི 사랑 𓊇ྀི l♡ve ⠀file͟s ֺ 𓈒
ֺ 🗒️ ₊ ֗ 𝓯or ⠀ idol . ୨୧
୨୧ ݁ ⁽ 사랑 ⁾ — nōtes 𓈒ׁ 🎼
adōring idol ♡ ໒꒰ྀི∩˃ ᵕ ˂∩꒱ྀི১
˖ ࣪ 🩹 𓊆ྀི l♡ving idol⠀ ⃘໋ׅ♡
୨୧ @ user ˳⠀꒰꧞ ˃ ⌔ ˂ ིྀ꒱ ۫ ݂
˖ ࣪ 🩹 credits @ jiigumii ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡ྀི꒱১
do not repost — claim as urs — steal
Reblogged
ֹ #⃝ bios for you ˳⠀꒰꧞ ˃ ⌔ ˂ ིྀ꒱ ۫ ݂
(๑⃙⃘´༥`๑⃙⃘) ⠀ my ⠀𓏼⠀ mūffin ⠀♡ 𓈒
꒰꒰𓏼 ⠀ ⑅⠀ idol ⠀ dιary 𓈒 ꒪ ׅ ⑅
#⃝ ֹ ⠀ l♡ve ⠀ site ⠀ ̊ ִ ︵
𓏼⠀ 𝓯or⠀𓈒 ݁ ♡ ݁ idol ⠀ ⪩ ࡛
🩹 ݁ ˖ ⠀i ͟lꪮve idol ⠀ ֹ ׅ !!
︵ིྀ ⠀ ♡ ⠀۪ ⠀𖥻 word⠀ ˖ ࣪ ִ 𓊇ྀི
૮꒰ 𓈒. ݂ .𓈒ྀི ꒱ა ⠀𓏼⠀idol ⠀𓈒 ݁ ♡ ݁
⑅ 𓈒⠀ ⠀ @group⠀ ⠀˖ ୨୧
˖ ࣪ 🩹 credits @ jiigumii ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡ྀི꒱১
don’t repost — claim as urs — steal
Reblogged
ֹ ♪ (- -ᣟ݂ ݄ bios for you ֺ ⊹
+ ִ ཾ l𐐫ve archïve ࣪ ִ ྀི𓊇
ཾ ♡࠘ @idols.acc 𓈒ㅤㅤ ꢤꢆ
⊹ ⠀l♡ve ⁺ ⠀ for⠀⨾⠀idol
ʚৎ ˚ . ⠀ #♡amor ⠀ つ ⁺ .
#⃝ ݁ 𓈒 ݂𝓯 ᩧ ̮͈ ̞ ̮͈ l ᜒოy .˚ ♡ ݄ ᣟ⁰ 𓏪̣̣
՞ ⬚ ྀི sω ⑅ ⑅𓈒 ˙ȶ ♫ྀི ݁ idol 𓈒
⊹⠀𓈒⠀𓏵⠀ ݁ idol⠀ ྀི𓊇
so0o mine⠀ ݁˖ ㅅ `͈ 𓏼 )ა
+ ִ ཾ credit @jiigumi ᩧ ̮͈ ̞ ̮͈ ࣪ ˖
Reblogged
Anonymous asked:
i love your account it’s so aesthetic and like your writing. chefs kiss. 💋 could you pleaseeeee write getting caught making out with jude or lamine!!
if it’s jude could y’all get caught by his brother or a teammate lol
and if it’s lamine yamal could y’all get caught by one of his older teammates or kenye (if it’s kenye make it like cuteee) ALSO IF YOU COULDDD DO BOTH!! I LOVE YOU THANK YOU
— halï🦒
GOODNIGHT KISSES - l. yamal
inwhich! kenye catches you giving lamine “goodnight kisses” and asks for some of his own.
frannytalks! i’ll post a jude one soon. ;) and thank youuu, also loveeee the idea, and kenye is TOO adorable, the picture of him screaming, my heart. 😭 don’t forget to join my taglist(s) here!
Reblogged
➳ 𝐍𝐨 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 | 𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐥
➳ summary: Lamine getting his wisdom teeth removed has got to be the funniest (and cutest) thing to be witnessed.
➳ feedback is appreciated ♡
"I just texted your mom and told her we've left. do you want anything more?" she looked at Lamine, who was slumping in his seat.
"I wanna go home" he huffed, which she laughed at and ruffled his hair.
"It's 2 hours max to get those teeth removed. Or do you prefer to be in pain daily?" she teased, watching how he sighed but didn't reply.
The drive to the dentist was quiet, just Lamine sulking in his seat but holding his girl's hand for dear life.
"Appointment for Lamine" she said, while Lamine held her hand and stood behind her like a little kid.
"The doctor will be with you in a minute, please take a seat" the secretary said, so the couple sat down on the couch.
"hey you good bebé ?" she mumbled into his hair as he laid his head on her shoulder, noticing he has been quiet since they arrived.
"I'm nervous" he whispered, embarrassed to admit it.
"don't worry you'll be given anesthesia so you won't feel any pain" she reassured him, pressing a kiss in the crown of his head.
"Lamine? the doctor is waiting for you" the secretary said, pointing at the door.
"I'll be waiting for you here bebé " she mumbled, kissing him gently before he got up. She felt him relax a bit before he entered the room.
⋆⭒────────⭒⋆
After about an hour and a half the door finally open, revealing Lamine and the dentist by his side, helping him to stay steady.
"Everything is good. He just needs some pain killers for when the anesthesia wears off. And he needs to be eating food that doesn't require chewing and keep him away from hot food these few days" the dentist told her, as she took Lamine from him and helped him straighten up.
"Thank you doctor" she thanked him before walking out with her boyfriend.
His face was swollen, under eyes kinda purple while his lips had some blood on them.
He kept on murmuring things under his breath, obviously still under the influence.
When she got in the car, she looked at him with a smile.
"so how are you feeling?" she asked, making him sniff.
"my mouf hurts" he mumbled, making her pout.
"its okay mi amor, now we'll go home and you can relax for a bit" she started the car and drove home, that's when he started talking.
"did you know that my girlfriend is so pretty? I look at her everyday and can't believe that she's mine" he said almost absentmindedly.
Her heart melted at his confession, smiling widely as he started singing some random words.
The couple arrived to Lamine's apartment, while Lamine couldn't stand straight, she helped him up the whole way.
He dropped on the couch as soon as they entered, groaning in pain. She sat down next to him, making him look at her weirdly.
"who are you?" he flinched away, making her laugh.
"I'm your girlfriend, dummy" she said, making his jaw drop.
"whaaaat" he started laughing, shaking his head.
She couldn't stop laughing at him as his laugh turned into tears.
"so you love me?" he sniffled, wiping his nose.
"sí bebé" she nodded, while he smiled through his tears.
"can you kiss me then?" he said, while she winced.
His lips were bloody and swollen, and she wouldn't kiss him while he's still not fully conscious.
"oh i can't..." as soon as she said those words, he started sobbing.
"you-you don't love me?" his voice broke, which twisted her heart.
"stoppp here let me kiss your forehead" she grabbed his head and gave him a sloppy kiss on his temple.
He smiled a bit and wiped his tears. Then he laid his head on her chest and hugged her tightly.
"do you know that i have a picture of you in my phone case?" he mumbled into her hoodie, making her raise her eyebrows. She did not know that.
"oh yeah? what else?" she asked
"I have like 5 pictures of you as my lock screen. I change it everyday to a different photo" he giggled, hiding his face in her neck.
"you're so cute" she whispered, kissing the top of his head, then his forehead.
"how about you take a nap now? I bet you're so tired" she said, while he hummed, already half asleep.
She couldn't wait for him to be conscious so she can make fun of him.
⋆⭒────────⭒⋆
Lamine groaned from pain, as his eyes started slowly opening. He looked up and saw his girl looking down at him with a mischievous look in her eyes.
"what?" his brows furrowed in confusion.
"so...a little birdie told me that you have a picture of me in your phone case, and apparently like 5 pictures as your lock screen" she stated with a smirk, watching his eyes widen and cheeks turn red.
He hid his face in her neck, mumbling a 'shut up' as his grip tightened around her.
"are you in pain mi amor ?" she asked him gently, running her fingers through his curls.
He hummed, wincing as he looked up at her.
"let me get you some painkillers yeah?" she said getting up. Before she could get far, Lamine grabbed her hand softly.
"I love you" he said, making her smile. She leaned down and pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose.
"I love you my pretty boy"
Reblogged
hii, could u write something rly angsty where lamine loses his temper on the reader and says things he doesn’t mean in the heat of the moment and then the regret hits him rly hard afterwards 🤤
pairing: lamine yamal x reader
summary: after a tough training, lamine wasn’t in the mood to talk, causing him to snap and leave you with a broken heart he soon comes to mend.
warnings: angst, personal experience 🤗, mean!lamine, out of character but it adds to the drama, thank you for requesting!!
the microwave beeped softly throughout the empty house, once again lamine left for practice.
you’ve gotten used to it by now, he always came home fairly late, but for some reason.. it was ten thirty at night and he still is yet to walk through that door.
prepping your cup of mac n cheese, your fingers fumbled with the packet, lip caught between your teeth.. you had so much to tell him after your crazy altercation with your friends this morning!
soon enough, the front door creaked open. a sound of a bag thrown on the floor echoed through the house, and a grin immediately made its way onto your face.
“hi baby! how was training?” you asked sweetly as always, stirring your noodles as lamine made his way into the kitchen.
“it was cool.” lamine replied, cold— unlike him, but whatever.. maybe he just didn’t have a good day.
you didn’t really know how to respond to that.
“oh.. well— i have sooo much to tell you!” you started— tone bubbly as you began to ramble, which was rare because of you ranted about your day? it was almost to heavy on your mind.
“and then— she was like..” you continued, lamine didn’t even look up from his phone.
“yo.. can you chill?” he spoke, no remorse in his tone as his eyes scanned through the fridge.
your heart dropped slightly, his words rang. ‘can you chill?’
it was a blessing in disguise if you even got to make yourself open up and talk to people like you did lamine, and there was a reason for that.
because lamine always listened and cared when other people didn’t, but right now was the complete opposite, he didn’t wanna hear anything you had to say at all.
“uh— yeah..” your tone dropped slightly, completely different from your story time two seconds ago.
lamine noticed but didn’t bat an eye, just kept his on the fridge, he would even look at you.
“dinners in the oven.. i can heat it up for you if you’d like?” your tone remained steady, the bubbly hint making its way back as you hid your disappointment, lamine didn’t have room for that right now, clearly.
“please.” he walked right past and sat down in the chair.. scrolling on whatever annoying audio played through the awkward silence.
a moment later, you found yourself sat beside him.. munching on the food after making you both a plate, his phone was faced down now, the silence was loud.. unusual.
and your sweet self? ignored his warning the first time and started ranting again, it wasn’t personal! you just wanted to talk to him.
three minutes passed, then four, then five, just a normal conversation, until he cut you off.
“y/n, your talking way to much— i can’t even think. do you ever shut up?” lamine spat, completely uncharacteristic.
“what?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“wait— what did i do.. did i do something?” you added, utterly confused. but the more you spoke, the more he got irritated.
lamine muttered a curse word under his breath, grabbing his keys, and his phone— frustration bubbled inside of him, he didn’t even know why he was so mad himself.
“lami— wait.” you pleaded, watching as he started his way toward the front door.. at first you thought of getting up and telling him off.
the door shut, and you stared.
no idea about what just happened, or what this was all about.
but it hurt.
in attempted to blink away the tears, you stared down at your plate, fist around the fork you held ever so gently.
but the more you thought, trying to pinpoint what you did wrong, the aching in your throat grew.
another blink, tears rushed down your cheek.
a choked sob left your lips, expression crumbling as you sat on the stool by yourself, hoodie swallowing you.. the only thing keeping you warm or feeling somewhat comforted at the moment.
you glanced at the door again, hoping he’d walk through.
but no, so you drew your attention elsewhere.
somewhere along the way, you found yourself melting into your side of the bed, tucked safely into the comforter, swallowing back cries as your finger hovered over his contact, checking his location.
twenty minutes away, just now.
he was just driving, atleast he wasn’t doing anything worse.. looking on the bright side— you attempted to atleast.
but lamine? he wasn’t just driving, he was drowning in guilt.
he never meant to snap, infact, he promised himself he would never hurt your feelings on purpose whenever you first started dating.
his hand gripped the wheel tight, music loud, it wasn’t your fault he had a bad practice..
he tried to hold a grudge and prove a point that wasn’t there, but the more he pictured your vulnerable frame upset and crying because of him?
absolutely not, he couldn’t have that.
so he caved, sending you a text.. not an apology, but a poke.
do you want anything from the gas station?
delivered, no response even after three minutes.. which means you definitely were ignoring him, he didn’t expect a text anyways.
the door finally creaked open, but you didn’t move, you laid with a heavy heart and closed puffy eyes, there was no hiding it.
and lamine saw it as soon as he walked into the bedroom, his heart broke right there— guilty was a understatement, he made you— his girl hurt like this, all because his temper was short after a rough day of his own.
lamine kneeled beside the bed, face now level with yours as he tangled his hand in your hair.. leaning toward your sleeping expression gently, trying to wake you somehow.
your eyes fluttered open, sore and raw, immediately noticing the face infront of you painted with a guilty expression.
“hola mi amor..” lamine whispered, his lips almost touching yours with how close he was, a silent apology without saying.
“hm?” you hummed, still in a sleepy daze.. but that didn’t mean you weren’t still upset with him.
“i’m sorry, i love you.” he whispered once again, massaging yours scalp as he pecked your nose, then your cheek.
you didn’t say it was okay, not yet.. you just stared with that silly glare.
lamine let out a breath that almost sounded like a chuckle, he didn’t move away.. instead he pulled out your favorite candy and held it out to you in his palm.
you didn’t hesitate to take it, a small smile noticeable on your features.. lamine took that as a win.
even if he didn’t have you back completely, he still tucked you into his side that night, whispering apologizes and rubbing your arm to soothe you.
and you could say it worked..
snacking on the candy, you held one out to lamine.. but as soon as he tried to take it? snatched away from his grip.
payback.
@savinggrace
Reblogged
British boy
Jude bellingham x Fem!Reader
sy: jude discovers your childhood One Direction collection and somehow ends up jealous.
a/n: just a silly little thing I felt like writing sorry if there are any writing or translation mistakes
The move had started with organisation and was clearly descending into chaos. Not the bad kind of chaos — the chaos of two people in a small room with boxes stacked and decisions to be made about every object that had existed since before you knew you'd need to decide what to do with it.
Jude was theoretically helping, which in practice meant he carried the heavy things with a helpfulness you appreciated and snooped through absolutely everything with a curiosity you pretended not to appreciate but did.
"Are you taking this?" he had asked about the pink lampshade your mum had put in the room when you were twelve and that had stayed there by force of habit.
"Probably not."
"Good," he said, with a seriousness that wasn't entirely serious.
You were folding clothes into a pile while he went through the highest shelf of the wardrobe — the part you used as storage for things you didn't know where to put but also couldn't throw away, which was the practical definition of half of everything you owned.
That was where he found the box.
You weren't watching when he pulled it out, so you only noticed something had happened when the sound of rummaging stopped and silence took its place, when someone comes across something interesting. You turned.
Jude was sitting on the edge of the bed with the box in his lap, wearing that expression.
It was a cardboard box with a printed photo on the lid — five boys, the Frat Boy era photo, the one you had been completely obsessed with — and you knew before he opened it what was going to happen.
"Jude," you said.
He had already opened it.
The problem with the box was that it was too complete to be ignored.
There were polaroids of them, collectible cards, an old school notebook that was well-used but that you had kept simply because they were on the cover and therefore it was important. There were t-shirts folded with the same care you kept things that genuinely mattered, were CDs with those covers you knew by heart, with the scratches of heavy use and there was, scattered throughout the entire box with the clear evidence of someone who wasn't trying to hide it, the indisputable fact that Zayn was your favourite — a poster carefully folded, the t-shirt with his name on the back, one specific photo kept in a plastic sleeve as though it were a document.
Jude was going through all of it with an attention proportionate to the amount of material available, which was a lot of attention.
You went to sit beside him because there was nowhere else to go and because standing in a defensive posture would have been worse. You picked up the CD he had been holding and looked at the cover for a second with that specific feeling of rediscovering something that was once very important at some point in your life and that time had kept in a place you hadn't visited in a while.
"God…" you said, more to yourself than to him, with the tone of someone arriving at a memory they hadn't expected to find so intact. "I loved them so much."
Jude raised his eyes from the poster he was unfolding with a comic delicacy, like an archaeologist handling a fragile artefact.
"I miss them so much," you continued, running your thumb along the edge of the CD with a tone that was slightly tearful and completely honest. "I'm never going to get over this infinite hiatus..."
He looked at you. You didn't look back because you were holding the t-shirt now, recognising the fabric.
"And Liam," you said, with the specific quality of genuine nostalgia. "God. I miss Liam."
There was a silence.
You looked up.
Jude was standing with the semi-folded poster in his hand, looking at you with an expression that was the honest attempt to appear neutral and which was failing quite visibly. There was something in it that was simultaneously genuine tenderness — the kind belonging to someone finding it endearing to see you so vulnerable about something that had clearly mattered a great deal — and something that was, recognisably, jealousy. The kind that appears when you lose someone's attention to a cardboard box with five boys on the lid.
"Excuse me," he said, with the tone of someone arriving at an important conclusion.
"Hm?" you said, distracted, because you had found a specific photo and were processing it.
"I exist," he said.
"I know you exist."
"You are clearly not remembering that right now."
You looked at him properly for the first time since the box had appeared, and there was something on his face that was so genuinely defeated in a way he clearly found funny but which was also not completely funny, that you had to bite the inside of your cheek.
"Jude."
"No," he said, solemnly. "You don't have to. I understand. You'll stay here with your five British boys and I'll finish packing things up by myself."
"There are four British ones," you said. "Niall is Irish."
He looked at you for a second.
"You know that off the top of your head."
"I knew a lot of things off the top of my head," you said, with the dignity of someone defending a formative phase.
Jude put down the poster, turned his body toward you and looked at you with that expression that was his when he was allowing himself to be mildly ridiculous and knew it. There was something in it you loved about him — the ability to make drama in a completely self-aware way, to be the comic version of jealous without losing the self-awareness.
"So," he said, with completely fabricated seriousness, "you spent years in love with a group of British boys."
"I was thirteen."
"That's not an answer."
"It's an excellent answer."
He tilted his body slightly toward you, his knee pressing against yours, and there was in that adjustment of position someone getting closer for reasons that had zero to do with the available physical space. His eyes were that way — direct, mildly amused, with that layer underneath that was more serious than the surface suggested.
"And now?" he said. "Still in love?"
You looked at him for a second. At the face you knew better than any photo in any box, at the way he was looking at you with that specific mix of teasing and something more honest than the teasing.
"My love," you said, with the calm of someone delivering the final argument, "I haven't felt something this strong for an English person since One Direction." You said you were referring to him.
The silence that followed lasted exactly as long as it took him to process that.
And then he laughed — genuine, that laugh you had memorised better than any song on any CD in that box — and before you had finished appreciating the laugh he had pulled you close by the shoulder, his arm wrapping around you with that familiar firmness, his face near yours in a way that didn't ask permission because it didn't need to.
"Okay, I'm flattered," he said, with the smile still in place. "I love you."
You looked at him up close, with the box still open beside you and the CDs scattered and the semi-folded poster, and there was in all of it something that was simultaneously completely silly and completely real — the version of you that was thirteen and kept posters and the version that was the age you are now in a moving-day room with a man who made jealous drama about British pop groups because he knew it would make you laugh.
You rested your head on his shoulder.
He left a kiss on the top of your head — soft, absentminded, the kind that happens without specific intention because it's simply what he does when you're close.
"Are you still taking that box?" he asked.
"Of course I am."
"Right," he said, with completely fake resignation. "They're coming too then."
Reblogged
k1owii
Anonymous asked:
MORE JUDE PLEASEEEE
pics are from pinterest and aren’t mine!
inlove with you
jude bellingham x streamer!reader
during an interview with all the players, the interviewer cant help but notice jude isn’t paying a lot of attention so he asks what jude is up to and jude happily tells he’s watching his girlfriends stream that he missed during his match. a few clips from the video show how smitten he is for you
a.n. genuinely am not okay with england losing.
the interview had been going on for nearly twenty minutes. all the players sat in a row, answering questions about the match they’d just won. there were laughs, little jokes thrown between teammates and the usual teasing whenever someone gave a boring answer.
jude answered the first few questions politely enough, after a bit pulled out his phone and slowly drifted away.
he’d still nod every now and then. smile when someone else was speaking but every few seconds, his eyes dropped back down to the phone resting in his lap. when his thumb would tap the screen, he would let out a small smile or shake his head with a grin.
the interviewer (capturing everything on camera) caught it almost immediately. “…jude?”
he looked up. “huh?”
the room laughed due to this cluelessness.
“i’ve got to ask,” the interviewer grinned “what’s more interesting than this interview?”
the rest of the squad immediately leaned over jude’s shoulder.
“he’s probably texting.”
“nah, he’s shopping.”
kane added dramatically, “he’s watching our highlights.”
jude laughed. “nah.” and then lifted his phone slightly. “my girlfriend’s stream.”
the room erupted in chaos:
“you serious? right after our match?”
“bro!”
“we’re literally sat here.”
the interviewer blinked before a wide toothy grin appeared on their face. “you’re watching her stream…during our interview?”
jude looked completely unashamed. “well…” he glanced back at his phone. “i missed it because of the match.” then he shrugged again. “so i’m catching up.”
everyone burst out laughing.
“look at this guy.”
“head’s gone.”
“finished.”
spence leaned over his shoulder, trying to peek. “is she even doing anything interesting?”
jude smiled without taking his eyes off the screen. “yeah.”
“…she’s just talking.” spence stated.
“that’s it?” gordon questioned
“yeah.”
“…and you’re watching that over us?”
“yeah.”
the interviewer had to stop speaking for a second, finding quite amusement in this fact. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen someone admit that so casually.”
jude just smiled. “she likes telling stories.”
another laugh spread across the room.“that’s adorable.”
“or concerning.”
“probably both.”
the interviewer looked at the camera “right. we need proof. camera, zoom in.”
jude instinctively tilted his phone away.“nah.”
“come on!”
“absolutely not.”
everyone started chanting:
“show us.”
“show us.”
“show us.”
finally, after enough teasing, jude sighed dramatically. “fine.” and he turned the phone just enough for everyone to see. you were sat in your streaming room wearing an oversized hoodie, headset slightly crooked after hours online.
“…and then,” your voice came through the speakers, “i accidentally spent forty minutes trying to solve a puzzle that chat had already solved.”
jude couldn’t stop smiling.
one player looked at him. “…that’s the bit you’re smiling at?”
he nodded. “yeah. she’s funny.”
“mate.” another teammate leaned closer.“you’re smiling like you’ve just watched someone score a bicycle kick.”
without thinking, jude answered quietly “she does that to me.”
the room immediately went silent then again a loud chatter erupted.
“OOOOOOH.”
“HE’S GONE.”
“IT’S OVER FOR HIM.”
someone actually clapped while another pretended to wipe away tears.
the interviewer laughed. “i think we’ve discovered the biggest fan of your girlfriend.”
jude didn’t even argue and simply nodded “probably.”
———
the clip spread across social media:
“jude bellingham admits he’s watching his girlfriend’s stream instead of paying attention to interviews.”
everyone loved it but what really sent the internet into complete chaos were the clips fans pulled from your stream.
⸻
clip one.
you were in the middle of explaining a game mechanic. “…wait.”
you suddenly smiled. “jude just texted me.”
your chat immediately exploded.
superawesomegirl: READ IT.
kiwiynsfavfan: WHAT DID HE SAY??
judebellinghamsleftshoe: SHOW US.
“no.” you laughed. “…it’s just him reminding me to drink water.”
⸻
clip two.
someone in chat asked, “does jude actually watch your streams?”
you smiled. “yep! every single one. even if he can’t watch live. he’ll go back later.he says he likes hearing me talk.”
the chat collectively spammed crying emojis.
———
clip three.
you had been telling a story that apparently wasn’t even that funny.
and halfway through you laughed at your own joke, covered your face and then quietly mumbled “jude’s gonna laugh at this.”
cut to the interview footage cause at that exact moment.
jude was watching and smiling exactly the way you predicted.
⸻
the edits became endless of you too.
your stream on one side and jude watching on the other with the most wholesome audio ever.
every time he instinctively looked softer whenever you appeared on screen, comments flooded every platform.
“the way he looks at his phone 😭”
“he wasn’t even embarrassed.”
“bro said ‘she likes telling stories’ like it explained everything.”
“the smile when she laughed???”
“he watches every stream???”
“this man is DOWN BAD.”
“he looked prouder watching her play games than when he won man of the match.”
“he literally lights up every time she speaks.”
⸻
later that evening, you were scrolling through tiktok and there were over a hundred notifications. most of them were people tagging you in interview clips.
you were confused so you clicked one and within seconds you were watching jude smiling at his phone while an entire room teased him mercilessly.
“my girlfriend’s stream.”
“i missed it because of the match.”
“she likes telling stories.”
“she does that to me.”
your cheeks burned red in embarrassment and fondness and before you could even process it, your phone buzzed.
🤍 jude
did you see it
you replied almost instantly.
i did. you’re unbelievable 😭
his response came a second later.
what? i just missed my favourite streamer. ❤️
~~
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Reblogged
⌗ his favorite distraction ౿ ݁ . ꒰ starring ju. bellingham ꒱
⌗ synopsis when jude just couldn't get enough.
⌗ content fluff. mild touching. boyfriend!jude x reader
you were standing by the edge of the gravel lot, shifting your weight from one foot to the other while you held the insulated bag.
jude had just stepped out of the heavy double doors of the facility, his training gear still clinging to him in a way that suggested he’d pushed himself hard in the gym. he looked tired, but the moment he spotted you, his entire posture shifted, his shoulders relaxing as he broke into a slow, easy stride toward you.