#net 0 interaction

[itsbebebrainrotting]

Also if they were gonna be mad about bad breaking free all the allays (which i stand by not being an actually bad thing to do atp) then could they have least found a more fun result other than forcing him to rebuild the entire laggy machine that, as bad has pointed out, is literally made redundant by better grinding methods? like this is the most non-consequence ever.

[kayayeteae]

.

[tojisun]

sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au mlist) - smut; f!reader; short drabble only!

yea i bet youre all tired of hearing hockey come out of my mouth but thinking about—

hockey player simon receiving a text from you after a game.

they defeated their opponent in a shutout—price carrying the team on enemy ice, with garrick coming in with solid defences, allowing mactavish and simon to sink a shot after another.

it was an electrifying game; even now as he’s stuffed in his cubicle, simon feels like he’s on top of the world. like the cup is so close to his reach—just a few more rally and he’s bringing it home.

the locker room is buzzed, congratulations getting passed from one to another while their coach awards the disk to price for the shutout. the media is still taping this whole interaction so the team remains conscious, guarded, until, finally, everything is wrapped up.

the others clamber to the showers but simon digs for his phone, desperate to talk to you. to tell you that he’s won—he doesn’t know if you’ve watched the game, not with how packed your schedule’s gotten—so if you haven’t, he wishes to at least be the first to let you know.

he wants you to hear it from him; hear from him how they dominated tonight’s game.

(6-0 for the specgru. in the playoffs.)

but there’s already a message from you, sitting atop the strings of notification filling up his phone screen. he ignores the emails from brands reaching out for brand deals or fans sending in messages to his public socials, and taps on your name.

his eyes grow wide, his breath hitching, because—

> 2 goals tonight, baby. almost a hatty.

> have i told you how your hockey makes me hot? almost makes me want to fly there to give you a reward

the start of a whimper builds in the base of his throat, scratching at his trachea.

jesus.

the last time you’ve rewarded him for his performance—a hatty, one of which was an empty net goal—simon had to grit through the horror of seeing you have a difficulty in sitting down the next few days. until now, he swears that he tried holding back, to take it easy despite his needs, but then you crawled to his lap and sang praises in his ears, and simon was gone.

you were so needy for him. for his skate and his play and his victory. and how could simon control himself then?

so this—your messages that are lidded with a tease—is torture. the flight won’t even be until tomorrow morning so you’ve just left him extremely pent-up, buzzing, with his desires poorly-leashed.

all he could do is send a weak,

when i’m back, can you give it then? <

you’ve only liked his message as a reply and simon knows it for what it is—a deliberate hooking; filling him up with tension. with unbridled energy, all uncontainable, so he can fuck all of that into you.

shit. now he’s all hard underneath his cup.

the quick rub in the shower stalls was not enough so he races to their hotel, locking himself in his room and proceeds to fuck his fist as he swipes at the album he’s locked away in his gallery. it’s the gallery that only you and simon know about.

it’s full of pictures. of videos and audios.

it’s full of you fingering your sensitive pussy, and of simon finally getting his hands on your cunt and dragging you up to his mouth for a taste, and of simon fucking you at every surface—on the island, in the living room, against the window, in front of the mirror.

in some of them, he’s still wearing his jersey. in most of them, you’re the one who has it on.

simon cums once. then rubs another one before the flight because he makes the mistake of rereading your previous message. the release isn’t euphoric; sure, it’s enough to stop the fever, but it was almost too clinical.

you’re still in your gym clothes when simon’s clumsily making his way home. you shriek at the way he just covers you with his bulk, before giggling at the ticklish feeling of his scruff rubbing against your cheek.

“missed you,” he says.

you whine, nodding, before pushing him back just enough that you can finally jump into his arms. simon soaks up the attention, like it’s sticky liquorice, and the nuzzled kisses.

even the words pressed on his lips, he devours but there’s one thing simon needs more, and he’s almost shaking when you finally noticed.

you laugh, poking his cheek, before giving him what he wants.

“your hockey’s so hot, si,” you trill. “fuck me?”

“please,” simon croaks out because that is all he could truly say.

[vexwerewolf]

What do you think is the worst frame for a SEKHMET-Class NHP? Why?

I went on more of an odyssey with this one than I thought.

I gave myself a rule here: I am not allowed to build a mech badly on purpose. As Dan Olson said, "if you build it out of malice, you inject it full of all your own prejudices. It ends up bad for reasons you created. It tells you nothing." Whenever I examine a mech for its suitability (or lack thereof) of SEKHMET, I must enter into it in good faith. I must try to build a good loadout and fail - I must not try to build a bad loadout and succeed.

First Appearances

I was initially going to say a Death's Head. There are a lot of frames that aren't well-suited to melee combat, but prima facie, I don't think there's a frame that by its traits and stats is more antithetical to the ethos of SEKHMET.

However. When I decided to go to COMP/CON and map out a Melee SEKHMET Death's Head for a laugh, I discovered... actually, if you disregard its traits, the Death's Head isn't the worst frame for SEKHMET. It's certainly not good - none of its traits support the playstyle - but the Death's Head is fast. It's base speed 5, just like the Blackbeard, and it has higher Evasion and E-Defence. With three ranks in an SSC mech, you can get Full Subjectivity Sync and boost its evasion to 14 with just 2 Agility, which is pretty nimble.

Also, with three ranks in an IPS-N frame - which by necessity you must have if you have SEKHMET - you can get Reinforced Frame. At LL6, with 4 points in Hull and 1 SP for Personalisations, you can get this little bastard to 26 HP, which combined with its high Evasion gives it pretty hefty staying power.

Also, a bizarre interaction that I had previously never thought of - and had to check with #rules-discussion on PilotNET - SEKHMET can use Core Siphon. There's nothing in the rules that says SEKHMET can't use protocols, and Core Siphon applies to all attacks, not just ranged ones. This can be useful if, for instance, you're close to demolishing an enemy with your first attack, and the next nearest target is an ally - your first attack roll will be buffed, and all the other attacks you make this turn will be debuffed.

This is my janked-up build:

-- SSC Death’s Head @ LL6 -- [ LICENSES ] IPS-N Blackbeard 3, SSC Death’s Head 2, SSC Mourning Cloak 1 [ CORE BONUSES ] Reinforced Frame, Full Subjectivity Sync [ TALENTS ] Duelist 3, Executioner 3, Skirmisher 3 [ STATS ] HULL:4 AGI:2 SYS:0 ENGI:2 STRUCTURE:4 HP:26 ARMOR:0 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:8 REPAIR:4 TECH ATK:0 LIMITED:+1 SPD:6 EVA:14 EDEF:8 SENSE:20 SAVE:13 [ WEAPONS ] MAIN/AUX MOUNT: Charged Blade / Fold Knife HEAVY MOUNT: Nanocarbon Sword [ SYSTEMS ] Personalizations, SEKHMET-Class NHP, Synthetic Muscle Netting, Core Siphon, High-Stress Mag Clamps

It's not... great. But it could work!

So, if it's not the Death's Head, what frame really is the worst for SEKHMET?

The Big Boy

The next stop on my journey was to think about what made the Death's Head not the worst choice, and look for a frame that didn't have those upsides. This led me - as many "worst frame for X" deep dives do - to the Barbarossa.

The Barbarossa isn't just slow, it's fucking slow. I can't express to you just how much of a drawback 2 Speed is. I had to pump Agility to 4 just to hit Speed 4, the base speed of an Everest. But when I did, the unsuitability of the Barbarossa sort of melted away as well.

The Barbarossa's Threat is huge, and if you're eligible for an IPS-N core bonus - which, again, I will remind you, you must be if you have SEKHMET - you can get Gyges frame, which buffs weapon Threat by 1. A Barbarossa with a Threat 3 Nanocarbon Sword threatens an absolutely absurd 36 spaces around it, so who gives a shit if it's not the quickest? Speed 4 isn't great for SEKHMET but if you've got move assist from your team it basically doesn't matter.

Moreover, the Barbarossa is functionally immune to most sources of forced movement. It can't be knocked prone by anything smaller than itself, already always wins grapples even before you add Synthetic Muscle Netting, and can just march over obstacles that would force a smaller mech to go around them.

Again, it's pretty jank, but this build works surprisingly well:

-- HA Barbarossa @ LL6 -- [ LICENSES ] HA Barbarossa 2, IPS-N Blackbeard 3, IPS-N Vlad 1 [ CORE BONUSES ] Gyges Frame, Heatfall Coolant System [ TALENTS ] Duelist 3, Executioner 3, Combined Arms 1, Nuclear Cavalier 2 [ STATS ] HULL:2 AGI:4 SYS:0 ENGI:2 STRUCTURE:4 HP:19 ARMOR:2 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:10 REPAIR:5 TECH ATK:-2 LIMITED:+1 SPD:4 EVA:10 EDEF:6 SENSE:10 SAVE:13 [ WEAPONS ] Integrated: Apocalypse Rail MAIN MOUNT: Impact Lance MAIN MOUNT: Chain Axe HEAVY MOUNT: Nanocarbon Sword [ SYSTEMS ] Personalizations, Synthetic Muscle Netting, SEKHMET-Class NHP, Reinforced Cabling

Reinforced Cabling - by the end, you will believe a mountain can fly.

Wait, Is Lancer Just That Flexible?

So far we've looked at two mechs I was sure would be a simple answer to this question and they were actually astoundingly viable given their respective downsides. Sure, they're not anywhere close to being top picks, but Lancer's game design seems to be tight enough that it basically never entirely locks you out of a role even if your mech isn't suited to it.

But there's still got to be a worst mech, right? Even with Lancer's legendary build flexibility, there still has to be a worst mech for the job of housing the Murder Cat, right? By definition, there has to be.

So what is it? It has to be a mech that's some combination of slow, fragile, doesn't have trait support for melee or traits that would otherwise be advantageous for a melee fighter, does have traits that would actively disadvantage it in melee, or has traits that are rendered unusable by not being on SEKHMET's permissible action flowchart. Moreover, I realised that any mech that has a Heavy slot can put a Nanocarbon Sword in it, and that weapon is so good that it can make up for most of a frame's deficiencies by itself. Therefore, we also need to exclude any frame that has a Heavy Slot.

We have two somewhat viable options here: the HORUS Lich and the SSC Emperor.

Ghost Warrior

The HORUS Lich is absurdly fragile on its base stats (although this can be easily circumvented via HASE and core bonuses), and it can't use its survival reaction while using SEKHMET if doing so would cause it to move away from an enemy. It lacks a Heavy slot, and it also lacks any traits that non-Heavy frames like the Nelson and the Mourning Cloak have to improve melee damage.

Even so, you can easily make a 22 HP, Evasion 10, E-Def 12 Lich by LL6.

-- HORUS Lich @ LL6 -- [ LICENSES ] IPS-N Blackbeard 3, HORUS Lich 2, IPS-N Nelson 1 [ CORE BONUSES ] Reinforced Frame, Overpower Caliber [ TALENTS ] Duelist 3, Skirmisher 3, Hunter 3 [ STATS ] HULL:4 AGI:2 SYS:0 ENGI:2 STRUCTURE:4 HP:22 ARMOR:0 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:5 REPAIR:7 TECH ATK:+1 LIMITED:+1 SPD:6 EVA:10 EDEF:12 SENSE:15 SAVE:14 [ WEAPONS ] MAIN/AUX MOUNT: War Pike / Tactical Knife // Overpower Caliber [ SYSTEMS ] SEKHMET-Class NHP, Personalizations, Synthetic Muscle Netting, Armament Redundancy, Reinforced Cabling, Bulwark Mods, Wandering Nightmare

This boy can do some work. The War Pike gives it excellent threat, OpCal boosts its damage per turn, and the TacKnife lets it do Hunter shenanigans, such as essentially attacking twice with its Knife. It's still not great, but it... works.

Sword of Kings

The Emperor is probably what we're looking for. It has only one Main Mount (worse even than the Lich's Main/Aux, which at least lets it do Knife Crimes), and its survivability and sustain comes entirely from Overshield, which it can't interact with at all while using SEKHMET. Even at 4 Hull, its Repair Cap is only 4, meaning it can't afford to take much damage.

-- SSC Emperor @ LL6 -- [ LICENSES ] IPS-N Blackbeard 3, SSC Emperor 2, IPS-N Nelson 1 [ CORE BONUSES ] Reinforced Frame, Overpower Caliber [ TALENTS ] Duelist 3, Skirmisher 3, Pankrati 3 [ STATS ] HULL:4 AGI:2 SYS:0 ENGI:2 STRUCTURE:4 HP:17 ARMOR:0 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:7 REPAIR:4 TECH ATK:+1 LIMITED:+1 SPD:6 EVA:12 EDEF:8 SENSE:15 SAVE:14 [ WEAPONS ] Integrated: Marathon Arc Bow MAIN MOUNT: War Pike // Overpower Caliber [ SYSTEMS ] Personalizations, Synthetic Muscle Netting, SEKHMET-Class NHP, Reinforced Cabling, Armament Redundancy, Bulwark Mods

Now, to be clear, this guy does start every fight with 9 Overshield, and regains it every time they take Structure damage, giving them 26 effective HP per Structure. But the Emperor needs to be constantly applying Overshield to allies to recharge their Storm Shield, and this is essentially impossible while SEKHMET is active!

And yet this build is still... at least remotely playable. I think we've found the worst frame for SEKHMET. I don't think SEKHMET likes the SSC Emperor very much.

And yet. You could field this. It wouldn't be good, but you could field this. It would probably die quite fast but it's not completely unplayable.

Damn, Lancer's pretty good.

[carlyraejepsans]

ISAT really is one of those games i approached with net 0 fandom interaction, just my own experience and that of my patented sicko friends, so it's kinda surreal whenever popular conceptions of it filter through my dashboard via their bitching. like seeing a glimpse into another universe

[okwonyo]

when fans ship you together.

ᙏ̤̫ 엔하이픈 ♡ femreader & fluff established relationship + cw. not-proofread 0.4k | ( bookshelf )

heeseung would be beyond happy about it. to be completely frank, he has been waiting for this to happen for a while now— even a bit surprised it didn't happen any sooner, given the fact that he'd have never hide the fact he likes you a lot. enthusiasm, weirdly, would watch over him at the sight of the cute videos fans make about the two of you.

jongseong would be extremely proud. he is your boyfriend, for sure, but people thinking that a pretty girl like you would look good with him makes him extremely happy. a wave of pride and self-contentment would wash over him when you tell him about the situation, not even being able to hide his smile.. he'd watch videos about the two of you all day long, for sure.

jaeyun would start giggling in front of his phone every time he sees contents about you both together, twirling his hair as he reads comments about how good he would look with you and how much you were made to be his girlfriend, he'd send you every tiktok he comes across with the caption “do you agree?” — he'd send the ‘:0’ emoji when you reply with “no” ;D

sunghoon would think “it's about time” thinking his attempts of being next to you at any chances he gets and stealing glances over where you where made how he felt towards you obvious enough. he wouldn't be shocked to hear the news, more taken aback by how long it took for people to understand and see his actions towards you..

seonwoo would be so happy, oh my.. >< he'd have been interacting with you for a while now and have been waiting since the day fans would start to like the idea of you two in a relationship with one another, therefore is naturally happy when fans finally do. put all edits of you and him in his favorites; named ‘us’ folder.

jungwon would show you all the posts he'd come across, laying with you on bed as he scrolls through tiktok; “seriously, can't you be a little less obvious about your love for me.. fans are getting suspicious” he'd tell you, teasing grin creeping of his face, completely ignoring the fact he is the one the tiktok is mainly about.

riki would not bat an eye when you show him that one video of him following you around like a lost puppy. you'd think that he would be even a tad worried; but no! he'd know exactly how he acts when you are near, that it's in public or not, he can't control the way he acts around you.. “are you really finding out that i might have a tiny bitty crush on you?”

hold draft back from november..

nets @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @oldjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @yunabi436 @ashtxrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies @jwonsluvr @lynniebearrr-blog @bobabunhee @sunghoonsarmpit @ynsvnte @wonifullove @luvieden @shalkeren @thesunoosshining @smouches @okwons @sulkygyu @the-swageyama-tobiyolo

[bennyboyfics]

frenemies with ben!

What are we || Ben Shelton x tennis player!reader

A/n: love this 🤭

Wc: 1,120

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

-

The tension had always been there. Every time you and Ben Shelton stepped onto the same court—whether as opponents or, God forbid, as doubles partners—the air crackled with something that wasn’t quite rivalry, but wasn’t camaraderie either. It was sharp-witted, competitive, and at times, borderline insufferable.

Maybe it was because you were both young, fiery players with something to prove. Or maybe it was because he had this frustrating way of pushing your buttons—both on and off the court. Whatever it was, it made every interaction between you a battle in its own right.

-

You spotted him the second you walked in. Ben was stretched out on one of the lounge chairs, phone in hand, legs propped up like he owned the place. His duffel bag sat beside him, his tournament credential lanyard dangling off the side. Unfortunately, the only open seat in the lounge was across from him.

Just your luck. You sighed, plopping down in the chair. You didn’t acknowledge him. Didn’t need to. The second he noticed you, you knew he’d say something. And right on cue—“Well, well. If it isn’t my favourite pain in the ass.” You exhaled through your nose. “Shelton.” He grinned. “What brings you here? Besides the obvious need to bask in my presence.”

You shot him a flat look. “Trust me, if I had a choice, I’d sit literally anywhere else.” Ben tsked, shaking his head. “And here I thought we were finally becoming friends.” You snorted. “Friends don’t talk that much trash on court.” He smirked. “Then what does that make us?” You paused. Good question.

Because, truthfully, you and Ben weren’t just rivals. You weren’t just two players who got under each other’s skin. You were something messier. Something unspoken. Something that made every exchange—every glance, every smirk, every lingering second after a match—feel like it held weight. But instead of addressing it, you rolled your eyes and leaned back in your chair.

“It makes us two people who tolerate each other at best.” Ben clicked his tongue. “Damn. That’s cold.”You just sipped your water, refusing to let him bait you further. Even though, deep down, you kind of loved it.

-

“Best of three points,” Ben declared, spinning his racquet in his hand as you both stood at the baseline. You arched a brow. “That’s not a thing.” “It is now.” You sighed. “You do realise that’s basically just a tiebreaker, right?” Ben grinned. “Yeah, but this one has bragging rights attached.”You gave him a slow, unimpressed look.

“Every time we play, you act like there’s a title on the line.” “Because there is.” He tossed a ball up, casually twirling it in the air. “The title of winner between us. And let’s be real—you’ve been dodging me for weeks.” Your eyes narrowed. “Dodging you? Please.”

Ben smirked. “Oh, so you do want to play?” You hated him. You really, really hated him. Mostly because he was right. “Fine,” you muttered, walking to the baseline. “But when I win, I don’t wanna hear any excuses.” Ben grinned like you had just handed him a Christmas present. “You won’t. Because that won’t happen.”

Ben served first. Big mistake. You had studied his patterns enough to know that his go-to under pressure was a body serve. Predictable. You anticipated it, stepping in early to redirect it down the line. Winner. “1-0,” you said, casually twirling your racquet. Ben huffed. “Lucky shot.”

Next rally, he came in aggressive, trying to overpower you. But you absorbed his pace, slicing a nasty angle that sent him sprinting. He got there—barely—but his shot landed short. You closed in, flicking a drop shot just over the net. Ben dove for it. Missed by an inch. “2-0.” You smirked. “Hate to say I told you so.”

Ben pushed up from the court, eyes gleaming with something between frustration and amusement. “You love to say I told you so.” He wasn’t wrong. But you wanted to put the final nail in the coffin. On match point, he upped the intensity, forcing you into defense with a barrage of deep, heavy forehands.

You barely hung in, scrambling from corner to corner, waiting for your chance—And then it came. Ben hit a rare short ball. You lunged forward, cracked a perfect forehand winner down the line, and turned around before it even landed. Game over. You didn’t see Ben’s reaction, but you felt it.

The weight of his stare. The way the air between you practically sizzled with competitiveness. And when you finally turned back, he was standing there, hands on his hips, shaking his head. “That,” he muttered, “was disrespectful.” You shrugged, all faux innocence. “You said no excuses.”

Ben exhaled sharply, rubbing his jaw. Then—before you could react—he stepped closer, invading your space just enough to make your heart lurch. For a second, he just looked at you. Not with the usual cocky arrogance. Something else. Something charged. Something that made the heat of competition feel like child’s play compared to the heat of this.

Finally, he huffed out a soft laugh. “You really don’t make things easy, do you?” You tilted your head. “Wouldn’t be fun if I did.” Ben lingered for a second longer—before stepping back, spinning his racquet, and shooting you one last grin. “Next time, I’m winning.” You smirked. “Guess we’ll see.”And with that, you both walked off the court, the battle unfinished.

But the game between you? That was just getting started.

[somerandomcockroach]

maybe write a Decepticon Prowl fic with someone? :0 so your like constantly bouncing ideas off and can take turns writing to avoid burnout and you both and like be the firsts to read each new chapter like when yall proof read or something? Idk just a thought.

If i followed this, I'd give prowl too much power...

Pfffht, I have a bad case of "boring writing" and "closed inside my own head", not sure if I am even capable of bouncing something directly with someone XDD I wanna see what plots people make with him and in what situations put, wanna see his interactions with decepticons once he is among them. Because if autobots are monkeys in circus decepticons are alligators in the pond Oooooh yes, he is a big threat to autobots since he has a wild range of freedom, but I personally still think he isn't as overpowered here. Autobots will not kill you for all your mistakes, there are no rats until they were sent from enemies. Decepticons might kill you 👍So he will have to be 10 steps forward than all of them to find the most acceptable path where he has less chances of being beaten up to death. I swear to god I wanna see him being treasured by Megatron, Megatron being even scared of him. He keeps his best and loyal as close to him. I love how he said to Starscream one time that he obeys to him if he obeys to decepticon's case. I can see Prowl saying that to someone and Megatron having the smug smile on his face. I have my opinions on when he joined and why and so on. I think that he operates as a tactician under "Prowl" (and known only among closer circle of Megatron) but among regular decepticons he is known as a "Barricade" on a low communication work to lessen the chances of others to find out who he is and kill him. Because this is so easy to kill him, he is a bad fighter. I think Shockwave hates him pffht. (I have to be honest I know so little of the decepticon version of him as a character so I don't know what fruit he is) Scientists have their own meetings and I headcanon that such meetings are a taboo to intervene with false info, exactly what Prowl does. Soundwave might also hate him for how his cassettes might be treated like a chess figures? Idk I know even less about Soundwave ahah. So he might have an awful medical treatment here if any at all since he is just. Not loved? "Megatron's dog on leash" I can see him being thrown out by his own who got enough of him, with ripped off audials and comms, with no way of tracking him, on the planet like Junkion to let him die, but Jazz (aka Meister) also was here on operation, so Prowl ends up with autobots because of course Ratchet will not let even decepticon die. And no one knows real "Prowl". So he ends up in this clownery, covered as a Barricade low class coms decepticon who "defected" because had enough and now "Meister" keeps a close optic on him. Because he has broad "Jazz" net. He has a lot of information that autobots don't know. And things that Barricade says do not connect strings. Oh I better shut up

[xosdr]

Road to Wealth

If you've any questions or find any problems or spelling mistakes. Please let me know in my Discord

Please Read Terms of Use

More Info about Road to Wealth

The road to Wealth mod adds a Net Worth system to your game. Depending on your Sims net worth (property value + cash) they will automatically receive a trait and the trait will also be automatically updated when your Sim goes into another class. The five traits are: poor, lower class, middle class, upper class, and wealthy.

The new traits have also been added to preferences, so your Sim can like or dislike a certain net worth class. If they are in a net worth class they don't like they will receive negative buffs and if they are in a net worth class they do like they will receive positive buffs. Also, it is harder to make friends with Sims who are in a net worth class your Sim dislikes and easier with Sims who are in a net worth class your Sim does like.

Not only does this mod add a net worth system it also adds more ways for your Sims to spend or earn money:

They can now go on activities, by themselves or with friends and family.

They'll have to pay an entrance fee on certain lots that have the new lot challenge activated: Entrance Fee.

They can purchase memberships, so they don't have to pay the entrance fee anymore. These memberships will last 7 or 14 days.

They might receive scam calls where they either loose or win a lot of money.

They can take out a loan. Paying back the loan works the same as the Discovery University loan system, but the system has been made Base Game Compatible and has become less buggy.

Poor and lower class Sims can now search for money on certain furniture items.

Instead of selling all your inventory items directly in the inventory your Sims can now sell their items at the new stores. The interaction can be found in the shopping tab on their phone or computer. Not only can your Sims sell their items at these store they can also purchase item from these stores.

And there is also a new aspiration available: Road to Wealth.

Then this mod also comes with a few optional files. All these optional files are optional and the reason they are optional is because they are either overrides or they require DLC.

Lot Prices: changes the price of each lot in game. You can choose to have them all as §0 or the original price x 5 or x 10.

Starting Funds: changes the amount of money a new household starts with. Your Sim will have to pay back this money. It's a loan! 

Adoption & Animals: changes the prices of all adoptions and animals (except for goats, sheep, cows, llamas, and chickens). Also, animal food has become more expensive.

Diaper & Bottle: adds pricing to each diaper change and each bottle feed. Cloth diapers and breastfeeding is free.

Reward Store: adds 50% of the original price to any rewards store item. For example if it costs 2000 it will now cost 3000.

Science Baby: makes having a science baby a lot more expensive!

Services: all services have now become more expensive. This includes massages, manicures, and pedicures.

University: All university classes have become more expensive.

Translations:

Russian by Pumpkin

Chinese by ImmoralSSS 

Spanish by RoshySims

PATREON | DOWNLOAD

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 2 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: my exam took me out and I had the longest nap of my life but here’s part two!! <3

W/C: 3.757

part one

"No, I'm fine. You know, I get nauseous when we run around the stadium with a full stomach." I tell Luis as he offers me one of his packed sandwiches.

He hums, taking the last bite of his sandwich while observing the streets of beautiful Madrid,  looking comfortable in the passenger seat.

It was match day against Union Berlin, the first in the group stages of the Champions League. We were all pretty optimistic about it.

"Can you hand me some gum instead? It's in the glove box." I point, placing my hand back on my steering wheel as I take a left turn. The Santiago Bernabéu Stadium coming into sight.

He leans over, grabbing the blue packet of gum, quickly removing the plastic foil.

"How many pieces do you want?" He asks, crumpling the foil with his hand.

"Two please." I say, lowering the volume of the radio as we enter the staff parking lot of the stadium.

I notice him unwrapping the individual pieces of blue gum and extend my hand so he can place them in my palm. 

"Thanks." I mutter, popping them into my mouth after I manage to find a parking spot.

"When is the team arriving?" He asks as we step out to collect the camera equipment out of the trunk. I make sure to hand him his staff badge, clipping mine to my lanyard.

"Twenty minutes, I think." I say, helping him with the equipment bag. We quickly make our way towards the pitch, greeting fellow staff members. Luis sets the camera up as I check our drafts quickly.

We finally finish taking videos and pictures of the pitch after a few minutes, our staff badges hanging off our necks as we walk back inside to capture the players walking into the stadium.

"Okay, I've posted the Instagram stories. Mind if you take a look?" I ask Luis, showing him the short clips of the pitch and stadium.

"Looks fine, but you know you don't have to get it double-checked anymore. You've been doing this for a while now." He nudges me, expression reassuring.

"I know, just making sure." I say, analyzing the posts one more time. I didn't want anything to go wrong or look particularly weird, plus it would give Valeria a reason to complain about me.

We make sure to get good shots of the squad entering the stadium, following them out to warm up as well. Finally, we get to sit down when the match starts. We update the social media platforms of the club accordingly during halftime, just as planned.

So far, it was still a goalless game, prompting us to have higher expectations in the second half of the match.

Though, the second half isn't that much more climactic, but we all sit on the edge of our seats when extra time is announced. My finger hovering over the 'post' button of a 1-0 ‘X’ post.

Luis and I look at each other anxiously as we get awarded a corner. A commotion starts right before the net of Union Berlin, the ball bouncing back at first, and then GOALLL!

I practically slam the post button, the stadium erupting in cheers along with us. Finding it difficult to calm down, so we can focus on the last minutes of the game. With the assurance that we would win, Luis and I start packing our equipment quickly. It would make sure we could follow the team back into the tunnel and, of course, towards the changing room for the post-match interview.

"Who got Man Of The Match again?" I ask Luis, noticing a smirk form on his face immediately.

"It's Jude." He says, and I look at him with wide eyes, pulling an annoyed face.

"Really? Now I've got to interview him? It's going to explode his ego, like it can get any bigger..." I sigh, following Luis down the stands.

"You'll live." He mumbles, prompting me to sigh again, wishing I could speed up the next few minutes as if it were a boring Netflix show.

"Tell him to- put his shirt on." I urge Luis, nudging his arm, my hands falling to my side when he shakes his head.

We'd both already been in the changing room, and my eyes had caught multiple half-naked

players. Prompting me to exit instantly. I didn't want to intrude when the guys were changing for obvious reasons, so I walked myself out before things became really awkward. Though, they probably didn't care, I did.

"Why does it matter?" He asks, pushing my head away from his face.

"It's distra- or just say-"

"I'm ready."

I whip my head around, my head almost colliding with a hard chest. I quickly take a step back, a smug-looking Jude looking down at me.

What the fuck was he so tall for?

"Took you long enough." I mumble, rolling my eyes. Trying to pretend he didn't scare the crap out of me.

He scoffs, the ‘Player Of The Match’ award glimmering in his hand as if he's trying to show it off to me.

"Can we just do the interview so I can stop talking to her?" He says, looking at Luis. His eyebrows raising in question.

I click my tongue in annoyance, tapping my shoe against the ground impatiently. I watch Luis nod, his hand coming up to my shoulder as he pushes me closer to Jude.

I turn my head, looking at Luis confused. I mouth a 'what the fuck?' to him, his smirk getting wider as my arm collides with Jude's. A sudden panic and disgust creeping up to me.

"Let's just do it without my face." I blurt, immediately detaching myself from Jude's side, like he's a scorching fire ready to burn me.

I feel his eyes follow me as I walk to stand behind Luis. I fight to urge to kick the back of Luis's leg for whatever that was and just request him to start filming. Glad that the mic was already attached to the camera.

"3, 2, 1.." he counts down, pressing the record button. I try to fake my uppermost enthusiasm when I ask the questions to Jude. Watching his own expression change within milliseconds. It's like he wasn't just begging for the interview to start, so he could stop talking to me.

"¡Hala Madrid! ¡Buenos Noches!" He finally exclaims, raising the award excitedly. The interview finally ending.

The two minutes felt like an eternity, and he'd probably uttered the same sentence about 50 times now.

I sigh in relief, stepping back as I watch Jude and Luis give each other a handshake. We make eye contact for a split-second, my gaze cold as he looks at me with pure arrogance plastered on his face. Walking away to join his teammates, who had already walked out of the changing room.

"Can we go now?" I ask Luis, massaging my temples. He turns around, blankly staring at me. It creeps me out for a split-second.

"What?" I ask, frowning at him, folding my arms defensively.

"Nothing. It's late, let's go." He says, walking ahead of me. I watch him walk away for a couple of seconds, trying to decipher why he gave me that look. His back almost disappearing out of my sight before I knew it.

He walks past a couple players and staff members, them having their own conversations and being loud. Notably, Ancelotti walking with them.

I curse, clicking my tongue in annoyance. I start to walk fast, trying to catch up to Luis, who, at this point, wasn't even in my line of sight.

Suddenly, I hear Ancelotti call out my name, and I turn around like a deer in headlights. Slowly starting to consider leaving Luis in the parking lot, instead of driving him home.

"Something wrong?" I ask, looking at him cautiously.

Was I in trouble?

"Come here." He says, waving his hand. I look to his right, seeing a familiar group of players glance at me. It consisting of Vini, Cama, Aurelien, and Jude, again. Them laughing and banter amongst each other.

"Can you tell your father to call me? I need to speak with him." He adds, looking at me.

I nod, my expression changing to a less confused one, before reassuring him I would tell my dad.

"Then go on, it's getting late." He says, patting my shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

I smile at him, nodding and glancing at the guys next to him.

"Good game, guys! See you tomorrow." I say, fully in Spanish on purpose, waving and walking away as fast as I possibly can manage without looking crazy.

Luis was getting his ass left here, for sure.

"Dad! I'm home." I sing, taking my shoes off at the door, quickly storing them away in the shoe cabinet.

"I'm in the kitchen." He shouts back, and I make my way towards him.

"What are you doing?" I ask, seeing him stand in front of the open fridge.

"Grabbing dinner to heat up. You're hungry, right?" He says, and I nod, walking over to kiss his cheek in greeting.

"I'll do it, dad. You should go rest." I say, noticing him already dressed in his pajamas. I take the Tupperware of food out of his hands, placing it on the marble island.

"How was the match?" My dad asks, leaving to sit on one of the bar stools across from me.

"Good- we won." I say, pouring the tomato soup into a small pot. Placing it on the electric stove, before turning it on.

"I saw, Jude really saved the day. Amazing signing..." He chuckles.

My dad wasn't aware of the absolute disdain we had for each other, but I wouldn't want to bother him with it.

"Yeah, I guess he did." I mutter through my teeth, stirring the soup with a spoon. Making sure I don't scratch the surface of the pot.

"Oh! Mr. Ancelotti asked if you could call him. I think it's pretty important, since he asked me..." I remember, looking up at him from the stove.

"Why didn't he just call me?"

"Maybe, because you're always busy? He probably can't get a hold of you, or your secretary forgot to tell you. Which would be- weird." I say, watching him walk away to grab his personal phone off the dinner table.

"You're really calling him now? Dad, it's like ten at night. You need to stop thinking about work."

"It's alright, we're close enough." He says, calling the man of topic as he approaches the sliding glass door to the backyard, walking out.

I scoff in disbelief, shaking my head. I should've just told him tomorrow after breakfast.

I try to push those thoughts away, finally sitting down at the dinner table, putting on a binge-worthy show on the TV across from me. Enjoying my dinner with a can of Coke.

The ending credits of the episode and my empty bowl allow my mind to wander back to the day’s events. It was the first game of many for the Champions League. No doubt, our team would go far, we had a strong team with amazing support. I just hoped traveling while also studying could be manageable, especially this year.

I decide to give my brain a break from thinking critically, taking care of the dirty dishes, and sliding the backyard door open.

"Dad?" I call out, noticing him sitting on one of the pool lounge chairs. He turns to me, motioning for me to be quiet with a finger on his lip. I nod, mouthing a 'goodnight' and wave. He mouths it back, smiling at me. I nod, turning my back and walking up the stairs.

Arriving in my bathroom, I take a quick shower and do my nighttime skincare. Feeling very refreshed when I crawl into my bed, the silk pillowcase soft underneath my head as my eyes flutter shut.

The atmosphere today at the training center is very off.

Instead of the players looking happy and excited after their win yesterday, they look somber and tired. The vibe is gloomy, despite the sun shining brightly since early this morning.

Especially the younger guys. I didn't know what was wrong yet. They greeted me halfheartedly, unlike normally, and even Jude himself didn't give me one of his daily, annoying, egoistic looks.

I had asked around, and most other staff members told me they noticed the same, so it definitely wasn't just me making things up in my own head.

Maybe, just maybe, nosy Lina had some information.

I grab a tray, walking along the lunch buffet, and getting my food. I didn't want to bother fussing over all the options today, just opting to go for my usual. I don't forget to grab my drink, an Americano, iced this time to combat the September heat.

I look up to find Lina, my eyes finally catching her wavy, dirty blonde hair at our usual table, as I make my way towards her.

"Hey! Haven't seen you today. What's up?" I say, hugging her. I had been busy filming the recovery exercises of the players with Luis in the gym.

"Finished editing the footage you and Luis took yesterday." She says, smiling at me. Moving a lock of hair behind her pierced ear.

"Was the footage usable?" I ask, looking at my plate of food before looking back at her.

"Yeah, good as always. Posted it on YouTube already." She answers, and I turn to her after swallowing my bite of pancakes.

"Was the interview alright? Did it sound like we wanted to kill each other?"

"It was surprisingly good! You two just have that onscreen chemistry." A smile pulls at her lips, the outrageous statement causing me to freeze for a moment.

"Carolina! Don't ever say that again, please." I use her full name, giving her a look of disgust while shaking my head, horrified.

I hear her laugh mid-bite, she practically starts choking on her food. Prompting me to pat her back semi-aggressively. She finally calms down when I bring her drink up to her lips.

"Can I ask you something? It's about something completely unrelated." I say, changing the topic and looking around for any eavesdroppers.

"Go ahead." She says, clearing her throat for a moment.

"Have you noticed the younger guys- are acting a little off?" I say, choosing my words carefully, watching her eyes light up almost instantly.

She definitely knew what was up.

She nods, pulling me closer by my shoulders, and whispers into my ear.

"Apparently, last night after the match, the guys went to celebrate at a restaurant. When they dropped Jude off at his home- and I'm saying just what I have overheard. Someone tried to break into his place." She whispers, and I pull back to give her a bewildered expression.

"You're serious?" I ask, raising my brows.

"Yeah, something about his window being broken and a note being left."

"A stalker?" I ask, taking a sip of my coffee.

She nods, pulling away from me.

"That's what I've heard. Apparently, this wasn't the first time it happened, it being the second time already. The younger players probably feel bad for Jude. They've all gotten pretty close and are probably worried about his, but also their safety." She explains.

Despite the bad blood between Jude and me, I had the heart to feel a little bad for him. I had morals at the end of the day.

"Doesn't his mom live with him?" I ask, recalling what I've heard around.

"She wasn't home, thankfully."

"That's good, at least." I reply, looking away for a moment.

"He'll probably have to start a legal process.." She adds, and I return my attention back to her.

"Where did you even hear all of this?"

"A good gossiper never reveals their sources."

"y/n, could you come here for a moment?" I hear Hugo speak. The head of PR and marketing for the club. Whom I had the opportunity to grow pretty close to last season.

I place the folders in my hand back on my desk, walking over to him curiously.

"What is it?" I ask, looking at the grey haired man. He's smiling, so it must be positive?

"I'm sure you're aware I chose you to provide content during matches, but also the match preparations this season, along with Luis."

I nod, eagerly waiting for his point to be made.

"I've seen what you and Luis put out yesterday. I'm very pleased so far, especially the interview with Jude. Feedback has been great online. Looked very nice and casual."

"Thank you, we tried our best to create the best content. I honestly couldn't have done it without Luis." I quickly say.

That was true, I don't think I could've done the interview without Luis, even though he was being a little weird about it.

Why was everyone obsessed with that interview anyway? It was just a normal, run-of-the-mill interview I did most of the time.

"Right, extend my praises to him as well. As you know, the CEO of Apple will be visiting us on Saturday. I'd like for you and Luis to capture the moment. Would you want that?"

Meeting the CEO of Apple, Tim Cook?

I would be crazy to refuse.

"Of course, I'm sure Luis would also appreciate the opportunity. Could you send us the details via email later?"

This was definitely a dream come true, especially for tech-nerd Luis. He looked up to these CEOs for inspiration all the time.

After the conversation with Hugo ends, I decide to finally clock out. I walk down the stairs, my bag slung around my arm as my eyes are glued to my phone. Wondering how Luis would react to the news.

I couldn't tell him in person since he wasn't on site at the moment. So, texting would have to suffice.

I reach the last few steps, my shoes stomping against them, finally taking a right at a corner.

Suddenly, my shoulder painfully crashes against another body. My bag falling on the floor, along with my phone which flies out of my hand.

I look up instantly, eyes locking with someone I don't recognize by name, but have definitely seen around. He's dressed in a brown T-shirt with some dark blue jeans, interesting wear for the weather today. He did look a couple years older, something like late twenties or early thirties.

I clutch onto my arm, trying to ease the pain as I start to apologize profusely. I want to be rude so bad, but I hold my words back with everything in me.

I wasn't watching where I was going, but still, he could have heard me stomp down the stairs.

"No, it's fine. It happens." He says, no actual emotions detectable in his voice. I reach down to grab my bag off the floor. Watching him bend down to grab my phone, which had landed on the floor about a meter away from me.

I stand back up, holding my bag with my unhurt arm.

"Here." He says blankly, handing me my phone. 

"Thank you." I say, grabbing the device. His cold fingers unexpectedly graze against mine, making me shudder as it creeps me, the fuck out.

I did not like whatever that was...

He was holding my phone right at its base, how did his hands even touch mine?

He looks at me for a second, his blue eyes piercing into my soul, as he then walks off, not saying another word. Leaving me standing there in confusion.

I snap out of my trance quickly, trying to forget whatever that interaction was. Finally, walking up to my car and unlocking it.

Most players and staff had left already. Recovery day was so fun, only because it meant getting off early.

After pondering for a few seconds, I decide to just visit my dad's law firm instead of going home directly. Mostly, because I hadn't been there in a while. I could see him, and work on my essay there at the same time.

Maybe, I could also convince the other lawyers there to give me feedback on my essay.

I connect my phone to the car, clicking on my current favorite playlist and increasing the volume of the speakers. Knowing my favorite songs could keep me company while I drove through the city.

I grab my own set of keys out of my bag after arriving. My dad had given it to me, so I could enter and leave the firm whenever I wanted. Giving me the freedom of not having to knock or press the intercom when I visited.

I insert the key in the keyhole of the front door, trying to twist it. I frown as the key doesn't actually twist, making me wonder if the lock was changed. I pull the key out, inserting it again, and try to twist the key.

I sigh as it doesn't work, looking around to see if anyone is staring at me. Only because I definitely looked like I was some stupid robber trying to break in, in broad daylight.

Thankfully, no one is looking my way, so I continue to struggle with the door. Mumbling some curse words in annoyance, a frown settling in between my brows.

I breathe in, inserting the key again, readjusting my grip on the doorknob as I twist the key. I push the door at the same time, the door unexpectedly flying open. My weight presses against the door as I fall inside, clutching onto the door handle for dear life. My ankle rolls painfully, and I let out a pained wince.

I hear a loud groan as I try to stabilize myself. I raise my brows confused, seeing my dad lean over to ask a guy who's cradling his head if he's alright.

I just slammed the door into a client’s face.

A mortified expression forms on my face as I realize the situation I caused. I immediately walk over to place a hand on the guys shoulder, apologizing repeatedly. My dad giving me the most disappointed look to date.

I glance over to the woman next to my dad, recognizing her within a heartbeat.

"Denise?" I ask, eyes widening in confusion. If she's here, then...

I notice my victim raise his head, a pained groan leaving him. We make sudden, unexpected eye contact. I freeze in shock and confusion, a little disgust following at the realization of who he is.

"Jude?"

"y/n?"

[outsideratheart]

Trust These Hands (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: Still riding the high that is the champions league final! 

2-0 down at the end of the first half wasn’t how you expected the final to go. Barcelona couldn’t seem to find the back of the net no matter how many shots they take and Wolfsburg proved that they only need one chance to score. As you made your way towards the tunnel there are four people you wanted to talk to and that was your defence but Alexia walks towards you, stopping her warm up as she does so. You know she means well but when you feel her hand on your shoulder you shrug it off. You didn’t need comforting right now, you needed to know what that hell happened in the last 45 minutes.

“Are you fit?” You ask Lucy as she sits in her locker. You voice isn’t loud, in fact no one other than the players to either side of her can hear what you are saying.

“I—“ She hesitates so you crouch down enough that you are at her level “It’s my fault” it was a whisper, one which let’s you know she is disappointed with her performance.

“No Luce, it’s mine” you go the drinks cooler and get the both the defender and yourself a bottle of water, the team now aware of the conversation that is taking place between the two of you “Once her foot struck the ball it was on me. It is goalkeeper’s job to save the shot, it’s cruel but it’s the job”

“But Pajor got past me” 

“How about we both go out there with a fresh slate” 

The English defender nods her head in agreement and it gives you faith going into the second half. Unbeknownst to you Alexia watches and listens to the interaction. Since coming to the club you have unintentionally taken a captain’s role given your experience but she knows right now you needed to know it wasn’t your fault just as it wasn’t Lucys.

You almost felt lonely as you sit in your locker listen to Jona’s strategies for the second half. Being a goalkeeper was a tough job and it was one that most people never experienced. Barcelona needed to score in the second half, that much was obvious but those goals would mean nothing if  you didn’t stop Wolfsburg from putting the ball in the back of the net. 

“- If anyone can come back from this it is us” 

Alexia was now speaking and you had been too deep in your own head to realise. It wasn’t the mindset you needed to have so you quickly try to come up with a game plan, one which can give you a little bit of control going back out onto the pitch.

“Y/N” now she was in front of you and you didn’t even hear her coming. Something else you failed to pick up on is that you are the last two in the locker room.

Pity; that is the look in her eyes. Throughout the season there were some tough games. She remembers how you where when you got back from Germany after playing Bayern but even then you didn’t have the defeated posture you currently have.

“Mi corazón”

She knew how much you loved the nickname she gave you shortly after you asked her to officially be your girlfriend. The term of endearment warmed your heart but there was no place for that right now. You didn’t need a warm heart, you needed fire in your belly and ice in your mind. 

“I can’t do this, not with you” you pull on your gloves and make your way towards the door “Are you coming?” You ask her.

“But you just said—“ 

“I love you but I don’t need my girlfriend right now, I need my captain”

The two of you walk down the tunnel side by side with little to nothing been said. Alexia didn’t know what to say, well she did but it wouldn’t be of any use. You held the weight of the club on your shoulders in every game you play but today was different, today a champions league title was on the line and you refused to admit defeat when there was still 45 minutes left play.

Just before you step onto the pitch Alexia grabs your wrist and turns you to face her one last time.

“You are the best goalkeeper on that pitch” she was fully aware what her words meant. You weren’t just playing any team in Europe, you were playing Wolfsburg. The team that all but told you that you weren’t good enough to play for them and so far you were proving them right. 

“But” for a brief second you let Alexia see your vulnerability that came in the form of doubt.

“No” she now places her hands on your shoulders “you are Y/N Y/L/N. You are going to go out there and protect your goal. I trust these hands, the team trusts these hands and the fans trusts these hands. Do you?”

When you nod your head a smile tugs at alexia lips and almost by instinct as similar one appears on your face.

“Good now go show them what I see everyday” 

The two of your briefly hug just like any other team mates would before you run towards your goal which much to your dismay was right near the Wolfsburg fans. They cheer as you stand tall in your box. You’re not sure if it is out of respect for all you had given to their beloved club or if it was some kind of mind game. Either way you chose to ignore it.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Patri had scored twice within the space of two minutes and it took everything in you not the run the length of the field to celebrate with the team. Instead you saw a few Barcelona fans sitting behind your goal so you celebrate with them. The game was tied and you knew that you couldn’t afford to make any mistakes and neither could your back line. 

With every pass of the ball, the minutes pass by and despite both teams greatest efforts the game remains 2-2. Extra time was more or less the same. Both teams were getting tired and even though shots were taken no player was able to find the back of the net. 30 minutes later the referee blows her whistle; the final was going to penalties. In your eyes it was no longer Barcelona vs Wolfsburg, it was you versus Merle Frohms. 

You weren’t nervous. Being nervous came for one of two reasons: either you were unprepared or because you were doubting yourself. Neither of those two things applied to you right now in this moment. You knew this team like the back of your hand and you had spent hours over the years helping them perfect their penalties. 

Alexia leaves the group to do the coin toss to determine which side of the pitch the shootout will take place and which team will take the first penalty. You and a few of the other players watch the captains hoping to see what the decision will be. When you see Svenja turn her attention to you it is obvious that she is trying to get a read on you to see which decision you would prefer, deep down she already knows the answer.

“We want to go second” the Wolfsburg captain tells the referee.

Now it was up to Alexia to decide which end. She knows which she would prefer as one is closer to the Barcelona fans but still she turns to you. She is asking which side you want to play at. You tilt your head to the left side of the pitch, the one that Alexia too wanted to play at.

Shootouts were lonely for goalkeepers. Each team had split into to groups: those on the pitch near the halfway line and those on the bench that watch in anticipation with the staff knowing the final is out of their hands. 

You stood to the side by yourself as you watch Pina step up to take the first penalty. It was a lot of pressure for the young forward but she hit the side netting with ease. As Sveindis Jonsdottir took the ball from the referee you tried your best to see if anything about her body language gave her away. You didn’t know the forward that well given that she signed for the club when you were injured. She is right footed so you dive to the left, it was a well known tactic but the ball just slips past your fingers. 

Frido scored her penalty and you didn’t doubt her for a second. The moment you saw her step up you almost felt bad for Frohms, she didn’t stand a chance. Ewa Pajor was next for Wolfsburg and you could see the nerves radiating off her. You knew exactly where she was going but at the last minute she slices the ball, instead of it going in the bottom corner it goes to the top but your quick reflexes allow you to leap into the air and tip the ball of the top of the goal. 

Barcelona now had the upper hand, it just had to stay that way and they would be crowned champions.

Patri is up next and you know where she is going because she had a similar placement to Pina, only her target was the other side of the goal. The speed in which she takes the penalty leaves Frohms frozen in her spot but the ball hits the post and goes wide. Patri looks at you and mouths  I’m sorry. You use your index finger and tilt you chin up, a way of telling her to do the same. Now it was the captain’s turn. Svenja was someone you knew very well and you knew that she had multiple shots in her arsenal. In that moment you try your best to remember the average placement of her shots but it is no use. Although you dive the right way, her shot hits the back of the net.

It is a small shock when you see Mapi step up to the spot next. You thought Barca would go attackers first given that they take the most shots on a daily basis but you trusted Mapi to score and she did. Obi steps up for Wolfsburg and unlike her team mates thus far she keeps ahold of the ball and looks you directly in your eye. You and her had a bond and you hated that you were now facing off against each other but you had a job to do and so did she. She always shoots left and you knew that she wouldn’t risk going against what she knows or at least that’s what you think. She shoots down the middle but my some miracle the ball hits your foot before hitting the cross bar. Obi had missed.

The whole stadium erupted at what was one of the best penalty saves they have seen. As you walk back towards the side you encourage the crowd to make some noise. It was now 3 penalties scored to 2 in favour of Barcelona with only one round left. 

Alexia was the fifth penalty taker. She was Barcelona’s penalty taker. As she steps up to the penalty spot she looks to you. She was nervous, it wasn’t a common sight and suddenly the confidence you felt only seconds ago faded. You nod your head and she does the same.

With the crowd silent, Alexia readies herself. If she scores then Barcelona win. 

She misses.

And now you felt the pressure and what’s worse is you knew who was taking Wolfsburg’s last penalty. It was your best friend, Alexandra Popp.

It all came down to this. If Alex scores then Wolfsburg wins but if you save it then Barcelona win. 

Popp walked at a snails pace and it allowed you to gather your thoughts. You needed to disassociate the shot with the result. It needed to be you and her. The crowd needed to be blocked out and you had to ignore your team mates watching from the half way line. 

What you didn’t expect was for Alexia to have her back turned. She couldn’t bring herself to watch the final shot. Was it because she blamed herself or because she didn’t have faith in you to save Popp’s shot. 

“Alexia” Frido taps the captain on her shoulder “Y/N is looking at you, you need to face her. You need to trust her”

Just as the swede said Alexia turned around to see you looking directly at her. 

“Trust those hands” The brunette whispers.

She sees you clap your hands hard and wonders if you somehow heard her.

“I trust my hands” Without realising it you had replied to Alexia even though the both of you were none the wiser.

Top corners. It was risky but Popp loved top corners for Penalties. You knew this and she knew you knew this. 

Left or right.

It was a decision you had to make in split second.

Left or right.

Popp took her shot with pin point accuracy. 

You could hear a pin drop in the stadium as they watched ball fly through the air almost as if it was in slow motion. You reaction isn’t the best and it makes your job that much harder but you use every ounce of strength you had to launch yourself to the top left corner. The ball hits your gloves and goes wide.

You had spent the shoot out near the fans so they are the ones you run too, not your team. It was also a way to take the celebration away from your former club. You may have just won the champions league but you didn’t want to rub salt in the wound.

Within what feels like seconds you are surround by the rest of the team. All them of the patting you on the back, hyping you up, them all knowing that you have just won them the champions league.

“I could kiss you but I think someone else might want to” Mapi wraps her arms tightly around your neck.

Behind her you could see Alexia celebrating with some of the staff. It was obvious that she was keeping her distance from you but you wouldn’t allow it. 

Once you are let go by Mapi you make a bee line towards your girlfriend. 

“Do I not even get a smile?” You poke her cheeks playfully which immediately causes Alexia to smile.

“I missed” There it was.

“We won”

“I missed” she repeated herself and you could tell it was an apology.

“I saved. We won. We are Champions. We can obsess over it later, I promise”

She doesn’t reply straight away. Alexia looks at you, not caring that she is staring or that she is making is blatantly obvious.

“We are champions”

“Yeah we are”

The two of you join in with the dancing around and singing before the team is called over to collect their medals and lift the trophy. What does comes as a shock is that when Alexia is walking over with the trophy she signals you to move forward so that you can lift it together. At first you refuse, you weren’t a captain, it wasn’t your place but then she stands in her place with a look on her face that tells you she won’t take a no for an answer. You more than happily admit defeat and alongside your captain and girlfriend you lift the trophy, basking in the sound of the cheering fans.

“Look after this for me” you hand Alexia your medal after the celebration have died down ever so slightly.

“Why?” The Catalonian takes it from you and places it around her neck. She watches as you walk towards your former team mates.

Alexia knew this game was personal for you. It was your chance to show Wolfsburg that they made a mistake in letting you go but she also knew how much you loved your former team mates and how difficult it was leaving them. 

You sit down next to Popp, holding her tightly as you let her cry into your shoulder. Only ten months ago the two of you were in the same position on the pitch at Wembley comforting each other and now one of you had just been crowned champion whilst the other had just had their dream destroyed. 

Alexia watches as you console you friends. The night prior the two of you couldn’t sleep so you went for a walk and you ended up at Philips Stadion. She asked how you felt about going up against your former club. You told her that you found the thought of celebrating their loss hard and that when you won you would take some time to be with them because they were like your family. Alexia understood and agreed to make sure your team mates gave you space to do so on the one condition that you come back to her. It was an promise you found easy to make.

She remembers her words when she sees Aitana running towards you with a flag in her hand. The captain tells her team mate to give you space and after arguing at first the girl does as she’s told but she keeps the flag for when she come back to the team.

“I knew her coming here would be good” Caro tells her captain.

“She proved today why she has the right to be considered one of if not the best goalkeepers in the world” 

“Right because your admiration is only for when she’s wearing the #1 shirt” 

“You know it’s not” Alexia didn’t like talking about her relationship, neither of you did but Caroline knew more than most. She is one of your closest friends and in being that it also mean that she was the person Alexia went to when she wanted to know something about you.

“I do and I saw you stop Aitana from going over but I think it’s time you did” Caro points in your direction. You were no longer talking to any of your friends, instead you had been collared by your former manager Tommy Stroot.

Stroot was one of the reasons for your transfer. He was adamant that Frohms was the best option for the team and his lack of trust in your ability was the first time you felt under valued at the club. The way you spoke about him and what he told you led to Alexia gaining a strong dislike for the man. 

“Maybe we should have kept you around. You —“

You counted to ten and then ten again as your former manger spoke. You had no loyalty to the man and now was your chance to speak your truth but before you could you were beaten to it.

“You should have” Alexia comes out of nowhere. She stands by your side. Her hand with a firm grip on your waist “You made the biggest mistake of your career and it led to one of the best transfers Barcelona could and will every make. This woman right here just won us the champions league” Alexia uses the opportunity to place the medal back around your neck “You failed to see what she is capable of. I, along with everyone in Barcelona, should thank you. Because of your arrogance and blindness we got Y/N Y/L/N. If you still had her then you might have one of these. Now if you listen closely you will hear that the fans are singing for her and she would hate to let them down, wouldn’t you?”

“I really would” you place your arm around Alexia’s shoulder  “I wish I could say it’s been pleasure Tommy but it really hasn’t” 

You and Alexia make your way back to the team. Not caring what Tommy Stroot was saying.

“What was that about?” You nudge her playfully.

“You told me what he said about you, how he made you feel and I wasn’t going to let him get away with that” 

Alexia’s protective side wasn’t a rare sight. You had seen is a few times over the past few months but it never came out this publicly and her anger has never been directed towards the manager of one of Europe’s biggest clubs.

“You are not only one of the best players in the world, you are are one of the most amazing human beings and you just saved three penalties in a shoot out to determine the champions league. I will never make you feel the way he did. You will always know your worth with me and when you are unsure, I’ll show you”

Your girlfriend had this soft side which very few people got to see but every time you saw it it made you fall more in love with her.

“You’ll show me huh?” 

Her eyes darkened and you knew she picked up on what you were insinuating.

“I will. Just you wait until we get back to Barcelona, then we can really celebrate” you leaned forward so she could whisper in your ear.

She was teasing and she saw the way you chest moved that your breathing had quickened but you could play this game just as good as she could.

“What if I don’t want to wait that long?” 

Alexia pulled back and you noticed her eyes had darken. A smirk grew on your face knowing that you had won this little back and forth. 

Just as she is about to respond you are called our by the younger players. 

“Time to celebrate Alexia. We can’t wait all night now can we”

You run over to where Jana and Bruna are jumping around as they take in the atmosphere. You happily join in and the joy only increases as Alexia joins in. The celebrations continue in the locker room, on the coach and then on the plane but the best part of the celebrations happen once you and Alexia get back to her apartment.

[kamotecue]

stolen glances ✮ l. walti

pairing: lia walti x reader

summary: in which a certain midfielder couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. PWNT!reader

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you kept your eyes ahead, the captain’s armband worn around your left bicep. you took a glance at the other team’s line up to see lia walti turning her head away. you shrugged it off, thinking she was looking at something else when in reality she was looking at you.

you gently swung the arm of your mascot, who turned to you and gave you a soft smile. then it was time to walk out, you heard the filipino fans cheer for you. it was their first time the team has made it into a major tournament.

you watched as the fans sang the national anthem with pride, so with your hand over your chest you sang as well. once both national anthems were sung, it was time for both teams to take a picture for the starting XI. you pulled your hoodie over not realizing two things, your shirt got ridden up and you certainly didn’t realize the certain midfielder had her eyes on your exposed stomach.

as you successfully pulled off the hoodie, she averted her gaze turning to her team and unzipped the trainer jacket handling it to her team’s kit staff. she quickly joined her team, presenting their team’s banner.

as you headed over to your team, taking a spot in the middle of the back row. hali, your fellow co-captain, gave you a nudge before facing the camera. you presented the banner with a small smile, as the picture was taken.

“jusko, kinakabahan ako. [oh my god, i’m nervous.]” you said, as hali laughed and shook her head pushing you to the area where you had to switch banners.

you faced lia as she gave you a small smile, noticing your interaction earlier. you returned it, as you switched banners. then shook hands with the lineswomans, and the ref before heading back to your team for the huddle.

“remember, no matter what the result is we still have two games to change it:” hali said, before you went to your designated spots. you were up front with your fellow striker, sarina bolden.

then the kick off began, in the first half no one was able to score. until a penalty was awarded to switzerland, bachman one of their midfielder’s was the one assigned to take the penalty.

you watched olivia as she moved left and right behind the goal line. and as she ran, she swiftly shoots it, aiming it at the back of the next at the left post. the score being 1-0, the ref blew the whistle signaling the end of the first half.

you headed to the tunnel besides olivia who looked a bit crest-fallen.

“you did well, liv. it’s not easy to save a penalty, don’t blame yourself alright.” you said, as lia watched from the back. a small smile made its way onto her face, as she found you a bit sweet.

“what if we lose?” liv asked

“then we lose, liv, we win as a team and we lose as a team. football is a team sport, i have faith in my team.” you gave your goal keeper a soft smile, before heading into the locker room to receive more tactics from your coach, alen.

you had a water bottle in your hand, taking a few sips from time to time. then everything was a blur, in the 50th minute you received a cross from hali, and went for a header, you watched as it touched the back of the net, making you equalize with switzerland.

you ran to the section of the filipino fans, doing your signature celebration as they screamed. sarina jumping on your back, as you gently wrapped your arms around her legs so she doesn’t fall. sara and angie gently shaking you, which made you laugh.

lia watched as you celebrated the goal, it was philippine’s first goal of the tournament. you had the biggest smile, as she adored it.

but it was over as soon as piubel, swiss’s #17 scored their second goal. you lifted your shirt wiping the sweat of your face, as you turned to your team who looked a bit exhausted, why wouldn’t they be? the amount of shots on target were blocked and saved.

you analyzed the scene, and quickly made a plan. in the 87th minute, flanigan made a cross, delivering it to sarina who went for a header but a swiss defender quickly blocked it, yet it wasn’t enough to fully clear it. barker tapped the ball in, making it hit the back of the net.

you watched as she ran, the defenders chasing afterwards. you simply watched as they celebrated, a small smile making its way to your face.

“idol, pa-picture.” you yelled, catching the attention of sara who snickered at your silliness. you caught the eyes of lia, giving her one of your eyes smiles. but as soon as the game went into extra time, it took three minutes in before lia scored a goal earning making it 3-2, the game had ended as the whistle blew.

you sat on the ground catching your breath, as lia sat beside you.

“you played well.” lia said, as you gave her a small smile.

“you did as well.” you said, as hali called your name making you look at her. she tossed you a bottle of water, or gatorade before she went to the rest of the team.

“want to swap shirts?” lia asked, as you shrugged and gave her a nod. you watched when she played at arsenal. she tugged off her shirt, handing it to you while you took of yours.

“and once everything is over, want to go on a date?” lia asked, as you felt a bit flushed.

“why not, it seems like we will be teammates after all.” you said, as lia furrowed her eyebrows. you laughed at her confused look.

[haologram]

↳ welcome to haologram's blog!

about me: – my name is altair. – she/her. born 2001. infp-t. latina. – full time pre-med student, so updates are slow. – cheolgyuhao bias. dino/ot13 wrecked.

navigation: – masterlist. – requests are closed.

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current projects: – beautiful monsters: a short series based off the jeonghan x wonwoo duet this man. [0/2 completed.] – don't hate, litigate: lawyer!seventeen collaboration hosted by me. [0/2 completed.]

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[celandinee]

..0 Surprise!

IN WHICH…

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ It’s a certain catcher’s birthday.

—

word count - 700

note - HAPPS

—

The quiet walk back to his dorm was calm, with the lingering chill of autumn leaving him in a thick hoodie and sweatpants. There was a bite in the air and his cheeks were pink while his hands took comfort in the pockets of his pants.

Nothing like a late night batting session. He had been in the indoor practice grounds alone, swinging off of a tee into a dingy net until his bucket was emptied. The resonating sound of bat meeting baseball filled the silence.

Now that he thought about it, Miyuki was alone the entire night. Normally, the grounds were scattered with members of the team either training or plain messing around. He hadn’t seen any of his teammates for some time now. After practice, everyone up and vanished.

Miyuki furrowed his brows as he continued the short walk back to the Spirit Dorm, now scanning the quiet area with a frown. It was like a ghost town. The vending machine was lonesome and the normal chatter from the dorms was replaced with the sound of crickets.

Normally, Miyuki would take a moment and relish in the silence. The star-dotted sky and orange leaved-trees, the cold breeze nipping at his nose and the flickering of a light post.

But then again, this wasn’t normal. Where the hell was everyone? The catcher peered around at the doors to each room as he neared the stairs that led up to the second floor. He felt like a dog, perking his ears to catch even the slightest sound of laughter or conversation. Miyuki’s frown deepened while his heart began to race. The cool, calm and collected Miyuki Kazuya was nervous. Letting out a harsh puff of air, he raced up the steps and to his room, fumbling for his key to unlock it.

He turned the cold knob, slowly pushing open the door. It was dark inside so he moved his hand towards the light switch. As he flicked his light on, he was met with a sight.

“Happy birthday!”

Cramped in his room was his team. With big smiles and little space, they cheered.

Miyuki felt a slight smile take over his frown, his pink cheeks deepening and a fuzzy feeling replacing his racing heart. He hadn’t expected them to remember it was his birthday.

Sawamura ran towards him with blazing eyes and a cartoonish grin. Trailing behind the pitcher, you carried a small gift in your hand.

“Happy birthday, Miyuki! How old are you now, 30?” Sawamura laughed loudly, hands proudly on his hips. The first year tossed an arm around your shoulders as you walked up, barking out another laugh.

Miyuki eyed you along with your present, “A gift? For me?” he smirked, though the warmth in his eyes betrayed his snarky expression.

Your eyes rolled as you tossed it to him, allowing him enough time to catch it in his hand. “Happy birthday, tanuki,” you huffed. The arm around your shoulder tightened as Sawamura shook with laughter, “Ha! Yeah, tanuki!”

You giggled as Sawamura went on— well that is until a knee sent him flying.

Kuramochi grinned at the first year now sitting on the ground, “Watch it, idiot.”

Miyuki watched the interaction then looked back to you. Fondly, he flicked your forehead, “Thanks.”

You rolled your eyes again before motioning for him to open his gift which was so finely wrapped with baseball-patterned paper.

He tore the wrapping and revealed a pack of baseball cards. The catcher grinned as he read over the cover before giving you a brighter smile.

“It was this or a stupid shirt that Mochi saw at the mall,” you snorted, rocking on the balls of your feet.

Kuramochi elbowed your side, “Hey! It was not stupid. It would’ve been sentimental and sweet,” he grumbled.

It would not, in fact, have been sentimental or sweet. The shirt had a corny print from some show that Jun and Sawamura watched, and you knew that Miyuki would’ve rather taken a ball to the face than wear it out in public. Personally, you like to think that you saved the birthday boy.

Suddenly, you found yourself squeezed next to Kuramochi. Miyuki wrapped his arms around the both of you, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Thanks, you guys.”

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Hello my maggots (especially the tumblr maggots whom I haven't seen on Discord recently), I've missed you so much and I'm sorry I haven't been posting the past few days.

It appears I used up all my XP in being a Funny Little Guy and left none for health (I'm not a gamer. I don't know why I tried that joke. The most experience I have with XP is learning Italian on Duolingo).

And I'll probably be taking a break for a few days more. Why?

Well, no, unfortunately, not love.

It's that stupid motherfucker, Tommy the Haematoma of my ankle.

But Asmi, you ask, didn't you fall down the stairs more than a month ago?

Why yes, yes I did. And out of that, two weeks were spent in bedrest/floorrest/whatever you call not being allowed to walk at all.

But thanks to the wonders of our Lord and Saviour Bildaddy, I am now resigned to two more weeks of bedrest.

WELL FUCK YOU TOO, BILDADDY. TO THINK I USED TO HAVE FAITH IN YOU.

But yes. A bloody fracture would have healed sooner than this. But no no no not Tommy and his buddies called weakened and swollen ligaments and heightened nerve sensation (not as catchy as Tommy, are they?) who are here to overstay their welcome like a couple of Indian aunties dropping in during festival time to gossip.

Now, I'm not someone who exercises, okay. Au contraire. I'm more sedentary than the coins that Crowley superglues to pavements.

But I did like being able to at least walk around my room to pick up my art supplies. Or go to the kitchen for a snack without maneuvering a cane (Kaz Brekker era coming up for realsies) (but less sexy and more legless chicken style). I also now can't really go outside unless I'm staying in the car. The car hurts, too. So I have only attempted that once. All hail.

So that is how I have come to be resigned to spending two more weeks (after already spending two) in bedrest and pain during the month before my birthday in the year 2024 of our Lord and Saviour Bastard and Damner Bildaddy.

It does tend to lower morale a bit. And I'm kind of active on the Discord server (I need to be, because otherwise my social interaction comes to a grand net total of 0) (just like the number of times Crowley and Aziraphale talked after Season 2) (ahaha sorry).

But being on Tumblr I feel like I should be making posts and I start getting stressy about notes even though I know I shouldn't. And thus my absence the past few days, and probably for a few days more.

C'est la vie. So it is farewell for now (I say dramatically about a few days break).

But don't worry my maggoty loves, I shall return with chaos. As usual. And I'll still be on Discord unless the pain gets really bad. I love love love love love you so much.

At the end of 2023 I wished so bad that I wouldn't be alone anymore and now I'm not. And so neither are any of you. Like that meme said, we're not a fandom, we're a deeply unwell family. Applies both to the Good Omens fandom and to my own. My fans are rather more incestuous, but that's part of our, er, charm.

Sending you all the hugs and forehead kisses and love that you're okay with. I'll see you soon.

Meanwhile, I want you to promise to cause chaos on my behalf. Keep the Good Omens tag trending. Make cursed headcanons. Try not to murder anyone. Byebye, my little maggoty fly larvae.

[rolandkaros]

That Igaryna gif is killing me 😭 Iga being completely oblivious to Aryna's awkwardness every time they interacted this year was hilarious. I do wonder why Aryna has become so weird (in a good way) about Iga, like why did she suddenly start talking about her in the media 24/7 and acting all nervous/awkward around her? It's very interesting

timing of this ask is incredible bc i literally just restrained myself from going crazy in the tags about them lmfao.

but THIS. is literally their whole vibe. and i was even gonna say like that gif is basically their whole dynamic summed up.

i think a lot of it is just timing tbh, because this i think is the first year where there was no obvious "gap" between the two of them (personal opinion that i think getting to no.1 last year was the big change for aryna). so whenever aryna talks about iga now it's not "my rival who is clearly better and way more successful than me" and instead "my rival who is somewhat more successful than me." and aryna even said it herself, that they're keeping it interesting, which i think circa 2022 was...not really the vibe. i think aryna is still in this position of thinking that she needs to play catch-up, and after winning two more grand slams + now with ye#1 and iga having a good season instead of an incredible season (lol), their levels look really comparable.

which is to say i think aryna is finally at the point where when she compares herself to iga and talks about their matches and their rivalry and competing for trophies and such, she doesn't feel like she has to undercut it with this tone of "ohh but she's just so much better than me so i'll just have to try my best and play my best tennis and hope that i can do enough" (<- literally what aryna sounded like in ~2022 talking about iga lol). so she is asked about/talks about iga because it's an actual conversation that can be had instead of just "what do you (#2 player with 0 gs) think about this player (#1 player with 3gs) who keeps kicking your butt"...like what could aryna even say. but now, like i said, they've actually quite evened out, so there's actually a lot of interesting conversations to be had about their rivalry.

i also think there's a couple things about iga that contribute. i think iga is very focused on herself (NOT in a conceited way lol, just that she tends to mind her own business) and as a result she doesn't really try to interact with aryna except if she's asked directly or they're playing each other. this was probably exacerbated as well by iga being #1 and previously quite far ahead of aryna, meaning there wasn't much reason (no offense) for her to talk about aryna other than being the next highest ranked player (which wasn't even always the case). so i think iga has naturally sort of been oblivious to aryna's opinion of her for the most part. and aryna is obviously quite extroverted so we see a lot more of her thoughts & feelings about stuff anyway.

additionally i think iga is very...how do i put this. her attitude is very clinical and logical with almost everything she does, and i think that affects both how she interacts with aryna on-court and how she talks about her off court. so like in that gif where she's clearly more focused on taking the picture than on what aryna's doing. if you watch her net handshakes most of them look almost the exact same from match to match (over-extending here to say it's like she decided at some point what the "right" handshake was and has been doing it ever since). even things like interviews, she has a very specific way of answering and talking about her tennis and whatnot. and obviously this isn't an iga-exclusive thing (it's called having a personality lol) but my point is that iga's personality and approach to tennis leads her to just not really notice or mention what others are doing in general, and to not output a lot of emotions or subjectivity of what she's doing herself.

all this leading to iga not really talking about aryna or interacting with her outside of tennis except to say "well yes of course aryna is a great tennis player we always have great challenging matches" and not much else. i think aryna conversely shares a more subjective perspective, which is partially due i think her personality but also because she just straight up has more to say about iga than iga has to say about her in terms of their competition.

going back to what i was saying at the beginning, i think this year was really the first time that they were in positions to interact with each other on level-footing (more or less). i think aryna would have been nervous/awkward around iga if they had interacted more previously but i lowkey think she viewed iga as out of her league (in a very literal tennis-sense lol). but now it's classic introvert/extrovert interactions where it's clear that they do not know how to act around each other and do not pick up on each other's cues or vibe.

which is how that gif happened. it was probably just instinctual from aryna to put her arm around whoever she's playing (extroverted) but the fact that there was clearly a moment where she went oh wait iga and i do not hug KILLED me. hilarious and devastating my god. and iga (as usual) is just not noticing at all because she's too focused on making sure she's doing the photo correctly.

also madrid where iga told aryna to her face "thank you for pushing me to be better" when aryna lost after having THREE MATCH POINTS and the worst part is iga was 100% being so sincere and aryna was contemplating murder because her rival basically just said "oop you almost got me haha."

also in cincinnati aryna was talking about "oh well yeah i had to keep it interesting because no one wants to watch a rivalry if its so obvious that one person's going to win over the other" and iga was like "oh yeah aryna i mean such a great player....what more is there to say?"

point being it's a pattern where iga is in her own little world doing her own little thing and aryna is Aware of Everything. summed up in that gif.