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episims · 4 months

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🥂 Toasting Fixes

Toasting fix by dickhurt, toasting hack by Pescado, and toasting set mod by simler90 all have crucial fixes, but none of them covers it completely. So I put together a mod that:

Disables toast with/to with ungreeted visitors, walkbys, and service NPCs (from simler90)

Also disables them for ghosts (from dickhurt)

Stops toasting getting pushed for sleeping sims (from Pescado)

The mod also stops sims from autonomously disposing the toasting set during parties, and visitors from disposing it altogether.

Download (SFS) (alternate)

For the complementary, the folder also includes a neat little mod by @lamare-sims. It makes the autonomous toast to newlyweds occur less often; it's only allowed after the sims get married, and even then it can only happen every other hour.

These two mods are meant to replace all of those earlier fixes and will conflict with them. They are perfectly compatible with the flute default I did with @pforestsims though.

Update (3.1.2024): Fixed a typo that prevented toasting to getting pushed on sims.

Full credit to everyone whose code is included!

#ts2 #ts2cc #sims 2 #s2cc #the sims 2 #the sims 2 download #dl mods #the one toasting mod to end them all #well two of them lol

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 4 months

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You're The Only Girl for Me - Chapter 9

yes, i did post this already, but I wasn't happy with it so.... 🤷🏽‍♀️

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

Trigger Warning: mentions of domestic violence

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @purplehairgawdess @arination99 @alyyaanna @m3llowww @gomussy @jeysbae @empressdede @harmshake @theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @romansnumberonegirl @bebesobrielo @venusesworld @babysyhsyh

if your name is bold, tumblr won't let me tag you

DECEMBER 28th 2020 - Pensacola FL

Whatchu’ wearin?” Josh asked as he and Airielle were talking on the phone. She looked down at her white long sleeve shirt and jeans and rolled her eyes. “I’m wearing lingerie at the supermarket.” He had flown to Georgia the day after Christmas to spend the rest of the week with his kids. She had thoughts about him and his ex-wife, but she had to remember that she and Josh weren’t technically together, they had gone on a couple of dates but they weren’t exclusive. He was technically a free man and could do what he wanted to.

“Shit, bet the bag boys are loving that.” She laughed loudly at that, causing people to stare at her. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Awe, You miss me?.” She asked teasingly.

“Mmhmm.” He hummed. “You know I do.” He paused, “ I told my sons I was seeing someone.” That stopped her.

“You did?” She asked, surprised. She didn’t know why she was surprised. They had met each other's family already.

“Yeah, they old enough to understand why me and they mom not together. They want to meet you.” Airielle almost hung the phone up on him and blocked his number. “You still there?” He asked after she didn’t say anything for a full minute.

“Yeah,” She breathed out. “I would love to meet your kids.”

AIRIELLEJONES

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“Wait, he said his kids want to meet you?” Airielle nodded and took a sip of her mimosa. As soon as she got off the phone with Josh, she called her cousins and set up an emergency meeting at their favorite brunch spot.

“What did you say?” Airielle groaned and put her head in her hands.

“I lied and said I want to meet them too.” Yasmine and Ashley looked at each other before bursting into laughter. “Shut up.” She said, throwing a piece of toast at each of them. “I panicked. I ain’t know what to say.” Airielle sighed and bit her lip. She was so close to texting Josh and telling him that they were moving too fast.

Yasmine narrowed her eyes at Airielle. “Don’t you try to run away from that man Airielle.” Airielle opened her mouth but Yas cut her off. “No, You knew he had kids and you still went on dates with him. Did you think you were never gonna meet them?” Airielle shrugged.

“I don’t know.” She stressed, throwing her arms up in the air.

“He ain’t Christopher. And you need to understand that.” Yasmine placed a couple of dollars down on the table before standing up and walking out of the restaurant.

“She just wants you to be happy, Rih. And from what I seen at Christmas, Josh makes you happy.” Ashley smiled and patted Airielle’s hand before getting up and following Yasmine out of the restaurant.

“Fuck.” Airielle whispered and placed her head in her hands.

JANUARY 1st 2021 - Friday Night Smackdown

Josh was pissed. After he talked to Airielle the other day she had went ghost on him… again. All his calls and text messages went unanswered. He had thought about flying back to Pensacola to pop up on her but decided not to. He was angry as fuck and didn’t want to say something he regretted.

The first thing Josh did once he stepped foot into Tropicana Field was go search for Airielle. The last time she went ghost on him was because she was feeling him. And now this time he was sure it was because he brought up his kids.

“Yo, you seen Airielle?” He asked Kayla as he walked over to her. Kayla looked up from her phone and rolled her eyes.

“No, I haven’t seen your little girlfriend.” Josh rolled his eyes. He didn’t even know why he asked her bitter ass anything. When he tried to walk away she stopped him by grabbing his arm. “Is that all you have to say to me?” Josh sucked his teeth and pulled his arm free of her grasp.

“I ain’t got time for this Kayla.”

“You haven’t said one word to me since September. Since Airielle got here.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s like you just threw me to the curb for her.”

“It was never like that with us and you know it Kay. You and I both know we was drinkin’ that night and one thing led to the other.”

“So you never felt anything for me?” She felt her eyes water. Kayla was beyond embarrassed.

“Shit, don’t cry aight? I’m sorry if I made you feel that way okay?” She nodded but a tear still slipped out her eye and down her cheek.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He said and pulled her into a hug.

Airielle felt horrible about avoiding Josh. She knew her cousin was right about Josh not being anything like Christopher but she couldn’t help it. Christopher had put her through hell for six years. From the verbal abuse to the actual domestic abuse that had landed her in the hospital with a broken nose and two broken ribs.

After she was finished getting her hair and make-up done she decided to go and find Josh to apologize to him. She walked around the arena, checking catering and Joe’s locker room but not finding him. She turned down the corridor that led to the Gorilla and came to a stop as she saw Kayla and Josh hugging.

“Oh.” Airielle said, making them both look over at her, her eyes bounced between the two of them before she turned around and started walking the way she came from.

“Airielle wait.” Josh let go of Kayla and went to chase after Airelle.”Lemme explain -” She sighed and stopped walking and turned to face him.

“Josh, it’s cool. You don’t have to explain anything.” She said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s not like we were together anyway.” She shrugged

“Don’t give me that bullshit Rih. You know damn well you my girl.”

“How? How was I possibly supposed to know that?” She felt her heart rate increase and her palms start to sweat.

Josh frowned his face up at her. “Am I trippin? You met my family, I met yours and I told you that my kids know about you. You think I tell my kids about just anybody?” Airielle crossed her arms and looked away from Josh. I need to get outta here. She thought. All she wanted to do was apologize, not get into a debate on whether they were together or not.

“I was coming to look for you.” He said, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. “I stopped to ask Kayla if she seen you-”

“Josh, you don’t have to explain anything to me.” He just blinked at her before continuing.

“And she said she didn't, so I was gonna go on my way. But she wanted to talk about me and her and I had to tell her there was no me and her. She started to cry so I gave her a hug.” He summarized.

“Look. I gotta go alright? Gotta see what I have to do tonight.” She removed his hand off her face before walking away.

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso imagine #main event jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso smut #jey uso x reader #wwe x black reader #jey uso x fem reader #jey uso x oc #wwe x fem reader #wwe x oc #black reader #your the only girl for me

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kylo-wrecked · 4 months

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🥂

(dealers choice)

{ 🎁 You rolled: Music!Verse Ben, Nowhere Man, the Revived }

Prince Street at the dusk of the gods. White peacocks perch clumsily on the cornices where pigeons once roosted, tumbling from streetlamp arms where they're too numerous , some hundred odd peafowl startling and darting off curbs and shaking their opulent, grassy tails in short stints of flight across the damp, opalescent pavement, roaming all over the great, howling zoo of lower New York.

The genteel cast iron dwellings bounded by Broome Street, East Houston (* Howston *), Crosby, and Howard twist into aureate wire gardens; the crumbling subway stations spit brimstone and steel shellings; long grey ghosts slog around cobblestone alleys, around Andrew Berman's reclaimed pillars, ashen and alive with hornets, and around the hairpin turn of Mulberry, where tonight the wooden slats of the old rows bloom under the pale rotten rind of the moon as they did 150 years ago when they were opium houses that glowed lavender in hazes of rain.

Canal Street is a canal again roaring and teeming with rhapsodic bedlamites and snakes and the writhing arms of the defeated, ferried not through to a new year but a new age. An age of endings. An occasion to watch from some rich schmuck's Olympic-sized rooftop hot tub, among a New Year's Eve party's remains, the soggy corpses of all those silver paper horns and confetti crowns. Champagne flutes, thin and elegant, huddled on a soda glass end table, some still holding stale yellow broth.

The Valkyrie takes an unopened bottle of Chianti and wades into the hot tub, lounges on the curved white steps, extending her toes in the cold, maple-checkered water, her gown billowing, moon glittery, and chlorine-green. She uncorks the wine bottle with her teeth. The plug bobs away on a moonlit current charged by her strong, shimmering legs. She beckons.

Ben studies her through long lashes, deep-set, furtive eyes hidden under a pergola's slatted shadows.

"To what do we toast? Raising one dead on the day you decide to shuffle all us little guys off the mortal coil?"

Folds his broad arms and watches and waits, a towering enigma in smart, black wool torn beneath the shoulder and jacquard pants fit for a funeral under the rubble.

"This is fun for you," he proclaims, feeling hard and hollow as the spoilt moon. "Look at you. Look at that smile. Fucking rude."

He hadn't known one could be homesick for death, how empty he would feel. Maybe the fallow ache will fade like jet lag. He trudges toward the stacked stone tub; the Valkyrie splashes water on his shoes. He mutters, "Qing qing," and wrenches the bottle from her feathered hand.

@valkxrie

#valkxrie #m. au | music!verse ben: nowhere man #seasons greasons #r. of those who sold the world #edited: for quality assurance

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darke15 · 3 years

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Wait a second ...

Hold on just a minute ...

49 + 1 =

... carry the one ... add the ...

Aha! 50!

50?

Hello there! Ya know, for a fic that was only supposed to be 20 chapters, completely self-indulgent, and read by nobody but me...I think I've gone slightly overboard.

*shrugs* oh well

Somehow, we've made it to chapter 50 and we've still got a long way to go. And, I know we just had a five-year celebration in May but, hell, that was already two months ago. I think another celebration is in order!

(I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been getting some extra special stuff ready for the past month)

I just wanna thank y'all again for hanging out with my slightly crazy ass and reading the weird shit that comes from my head. Y'all are amazing and I love each and every one of you!

So! Let's raise another #TOAST TO GHOST 🥂 and her comrades and you, my beautiful readers! And, of fuckin' course, me!

🖤 Darke 😘

PS : Chapter 50 // WELCOME TO AFTERMATH releasing Sunday, July 18 @ 12:00am MDT

#a toast to ghost 🥂#the nifty Fifty Celebration #yeah no thats not it #eh I'll come up with a name later #or nah #large #updates

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lowlights · 2 years

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🥂 Congrats on 500, Laura!! 🥂

Thank you for sharing your stories and for being such a sweet, positive, friendly human being. You’re a real gem 💎

For your milestone event I would love to know which character you’d pair me off with 👀

I’m a beach bum

I like naps

I like undertaking creative projects and working with my hands

Dogs and cats are both best.

I enjoy both playing and watching sports

I’d rather camp than go on a cruise

Can’t wait to see who I end up with 😅

Hi, darling! Thanks for your patience with me getting this done!

Despite the fact that in my mind PoNR is your fic soulmate, I wanted to take this in another direction.

It's our one and only Frankie. I know you have a Frankie story coming up and I'm super excited to see how you characterize him. BUT, for now, let me explain my reasoning.

Frankie would also rather go camping than go on a cruise, but he always does it alone. Time spent in the woods is normally just for him to get away and clear his head, however he has his first realization about you when you're sitting around the campfire on your first joint camping trip. It hits him that he doesn't want to be alone anymore. He can laugh with you about sports (he thinks he is always right about sports trivia, but usually you're the correct one), playfully argue about whether the marshmallow should be perfectly toasted or immediately burnt to a crisp, and also talk about books or movies in a meaningful way.

I think one of the things that draws Frankie to you over and over again is how he can take care of you even though you don't need him. You are strong, smart, capable- it doesn't mean you don't have your bad days. But Frankie is absolutely in love with how you see the world and how you can create things out of nothing. I feel like the two of you would definitely have a shared interest in woodcarving and sculpting. He likes using his hands too, those talented pilot's hands, and he is a goofball with you so he is for sure going to try to recreate that pottery scene from Ghost.

Finally, you and Frankie both love to fall asleep to the sound of waves crashing. If you can't be at the beach for real, you both might like the wave sound machines to sleep to at night. It's calming for both of you, and is a reminder of all the summer naps you've taken together and beach fun.

Ugh, I just really love y'all together. I hope you agree! <3

#character match #frankie morales #frankie would be such a good partner for you #and i feel like your energies would vibe so well #500 follower celebration

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offendum · 6 years

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Ghosting on the #DCmetro 🚇 Hosting tomorrow night’s 50th anniversary @aneraorg gala 💃🏻 Toasting my brother from another #Shami mother @thanksjoey on his new instrumental album release 🥂 Do your (h)ear(t)s a favor & go listen to #OnBeats 📻 #WashingtonDC. #Syria. #OffendumTour. https://www.instagram.com/p/BoO84tXB42l/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=843x6vd0kjw

#dcmetro #shami #onbeats #washingtondc #syria #offendumtour

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kylo-wrecked · 4 months

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🥂{💋} It's minutes after some hour she can't really read on her watch because she's lost her glasses.... Again.

And when he saunters into his demesne something like the spirit of Morrison possessing a sleek sort of panther, all swagger that is only really exhaustion attempting to outrun itself ~he learned long ago how to fake it to the very last~ Beth is really glad he doesn't have... company. Instead of boots ten miles too high and a ransom of neon spandex, in place of black glossy vinyl that would be forced to make mountains out of molehills only with the right corsetry, she stands in oversized fuzzy flannel pyjama bottoms and a faded Red Hot Chili Peppers tee-shirt {Stadium Arcadium tour, sixteen years in the past}. She offers him up a little plate, on it toast that is still just that, melted butter and honey dripping down the sides. She thinks it's funny. "Happy New Year."

{ 🎁 You know you want: Music!Ben }

His swagger could be an anthem in faking it till making it or just how drunk he is. He smells like a bar. Tobacco, cedar wood, the bite of something medicinal. Every lacquered plaster wall in his moon desert pad rings with the sound of another all-new year, or that could be his ear. Would be gnarly if that was the ear.

Ben Solo haunts his own apartment, a slow-moving, glitzed-out ghost.

After stumbling into some chalky owl's burrow to drink from a tap, he stumbles into the sight of Beth Riley standing in his living room like a single mast of light, one leg tucked meekly behind the other. Wide-eyed in her flannels and band shirt, with a china doll smile and a china doll's way of presenting a plate, three-quarters turned.

Ben leans the square of an allover sequin embellished viscose shoulder into a surface he knows isn't solid at all. He moves his palm up and down the wall, closes his eyes. Shadows hide the marbles of broken blood vessels.

"Happy New Year."

Could be January first or January third. Special k was a time-bender that way. New year, new moment. He couldn't remember five hours ago—success. But he could still remember the shrill on I-15. The smell, not unlike toast at first.

It is funny.

The little plate is funny. Beth. Funny. Ben doesn't remember inviting her over, leaving her here, but he must have. He must have moved stupid quick and given her his door pin, or she wouldn't be here, in her little PJs, offering him a slab of honey butter toast on a doll-sized stoneware plate in her little hands.

He approaches gradually. There's music in his hesitance, too, though the shine is all shirt, not him. He's death in designer duds, looking for blood.

"Why are you so small?" He considers Beth with a smile in his eyes that has made other women threaten violence. He considers the toast. "Maybe I'm just too much. Just too big."

But he couldn't possibly have said that—it's not something he'd ever say.

Ben bites a crust off the treat; warm honey runs down his lip. He swallows and wipes at it with his hand but misses the bead in the corner of his mouth. Not like he doesn't know it's there.

Till the very last breath could be a toast.

He laughs at the shirt.

"Take that off," he slurs, bends to do away with it, and clumsily yanks it up Beth's stomach, revealing her sleek obliques and narrow belly button, the silver knobs of each piercing. Ben does smile when he spots those. (* He doesn't know if he wants to suck on them or if the desire is a memory. His mind is a tunnel, too.*)

As he and Beth struggle over the hem, the collar pulls a little, the faded iron-on tents and warps in their grappling. Beth's heels lift off the floor. She drops the plate, and it bounces on the space-grey carpeting and rolls and clatters on its face in the dark, but she won't let go of his hand.

They both know Ben could rip off the shirt as easily as he could toss Beth across the room. Still, even in their scuffle, a game is at play. If she won't let him, he won't do it.

Somewhere in that blue night scuffle, their mouths meet with the taste of honey and powdered metal.

@brooklynislandgirl

#brooklynislandgirl #m. au | music!verse ben: nowhere man #seasons greasons #queue de la k #tw: drug mention

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darke15 · 3 years

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