#Post 8

[gunsoffire]

Trevor: *Literally eating garbage*

Me: 😍😍😍

[thesims3help]

Sims 3 - Gameplay enhancing mods: In-game fixes and other mods.

A category-based mod post. Mods and links previously featured in our Masterlist. All credits to their rightful owners.

Categories include small mods fixing in-game issues, No More Autonomous, Autonomous mods, and mods that don't fit previous categories.

Honorary mentions to: Anach's Sims 3 Mods, Ani's Sims | Downloads , aa6x7 : Quick Links, simlogical.com

Fixes:

Just Sit (script mod)

Invisible Sim Fixer Mod by Consort (simlogical.com)

Change At Home After Work

Opportunity phone call fix (and more)

Trait Discovery Fix

Harvester Fix

Random Sim Fixes 2.0

Get to Know Fix

Certificate Reward Fix (UPDATED for Late Night)

Sunbathing Fix by Inge (simlogical.com)

Interaction on sloped terrain enabler

Base Game Half Walls FIXED!!!!

Write Thank You Notes Fix

Inventor's Workbench fix for Bridgeport.

Read Toddler to Sleep - Fixed Interaction

Pet Tombstone Shadow Fix

Fixed horse tails (no more shiny horses!)

University Life Visual Fixes (Send Insulting Text, Texting Idle, Heat of the Moment Kiss)

A Proper Fix to the Proper Trait for 1.67 [UPDATED:~8/1/2016] - *Supernatural Required*!

Restoration Spell Fix

Hanging Lantern Fix

ITF Perigee Planter Fix

Watch Laser Rhythm-a-Con FIX

Spicy Animation Fix

Better Bloom Interaction

Pigtail Glitch Fix

Opportunity Phone Call Fix

Laundromat Fix

Nectar Squishing Makes You Dirty

Fix for photograhy issues. Patch 1.55 (moreawesomethanyou.com)

(No) Autonomous mods:

No Autonomous Go To Home at The Sims 3 Nexus

No Autonomous "Check out new object"

No more autonomous computer use (1.67)

No Autonomous "Read Something" Interaction

More requested no autonomy mods for Pets and Generations.

No Autonomous Sprinkler

No Autonomous Tag

No Autonomous Skinny Dipping/Get in HotTub/Pool with Flavours

No Auto make Processed Baby Food

No autonomous Deep Fryer or Ice Cream Maker

No Autonomous Wishing Well interactions by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

No More Autonomous Scatter Hay by CyberBob (simlogical.com)

Autonomous "Clean Up" Plate

No (or fewer) automatic memories (with custom tool to make your own mod)

No More Autonomous 'Put Away' Fire Pit Action

No Autonomous Play In The Ocean

No More mods:

No Sledgehammer Flash

No Relationship Sparkles

No Woohoo Hearts

No Simoleon Effects When Selling Paintings

No Fight Effects/No Slap Effects

No Musical Notes!

No Build Sparkles!

No more stupid outfits. +Sniper296's Curfew remover integracion.

No Sleep Zzzs - Now with No 010101s (Amb) and No Vvvs! (LN)

No Pregnancy Chime and No Woohoo Harp Sound

No Parasols (XML tuning mod) by Consort (simlogical.com)

No Unfinished Room Moodlet by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

Showtime Mechanical Bull: No changing into Cowboy/Cowgirl outfits by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

No More University Life NPC Protests

No Bad Night Sleep & Backache Moodlet

Snoring be gone!

No Romantic Interest On Kiss (1.67 compatible)

No Mutated Hair/Eye Colour

No Scales for Human Mermaids

Curfew Disabler

No Foot Tapping While Waiting For Clear Route!

Perfect Honey and No Auto Clean the Hive

Bog Off, Bobby: No/Reduced Curfew for Teens and Children

No More Crying Over Plants

No More Heckle

Other mods:

Annoyances Disabler

Online Center V30 (December 2nd, 2014)

The Third Person Mod

Burglars Steal Simoleons Too

More Senarios Upon Moving

[Public Beta] The Randomizer Mod - REWORKED!

Moar Interactions

WrittenWord - Sim written books found in Bookstore under General tab.

World Loading Screen Overhaul v2.0

No pets waking up sleeping sim, less ice cream truck and more or less CAS money

Put Away All Books *Compatible with 1.67*

Put Away All Scraps

Store All Fish and Harvestables at Once *Compatible with 1.67*

More Gem Cutting Options (Best, Random, Hidden, Unlocked Cuts) *Compatible with 1.67*

SimTransformer for TS3

Portrait, StillLife, MemorizeScene quality fixer

Cow Plant mod: Only Paparazzi can Eat Cake & Occult can Eat Cake Redux

Throw Bigger Parties whenever you want!

SmartPhone Camera Upgrade

More Unique Adventures per Day

Make Travels Free of Charge (Supplement to NRaas Traveler)

Umbrella Tuning (Unbreakable + More)

Greatly extend lot opening hours - The City That Never Sleeps

More Frequent Burglars (5 Flavours)

More intense fire

[kissoflightning]

If Leo and Carl Manfred had a good father/son relationship

[boy-with-a-gun]

9/21/24

long day today. asked styx questions.

"where did you come from?'

'i was born in PEI but my parents moved here for work.'

'wheres the dad?'

she looked away and stayed quiet so i repeated myself. then she said 'he went for work and then i never fucking saw him again, can we just move on?'

'the building you were in when i found you'

'it was some tourist gimmick development for living in the desert or something. the designer was just testing it out, he was friends with my mom, so she knew how to get there and how to work everything.'

'its a moor' i corrected her, then 'how did you kill your mother?'

she flinched at that. 'i dont have my meds. i have mild schizophrenia and just, with everything, being so isolated, so tired and hungry all the time... i started thinking my mom was a fake. that she was kidnapping me and lying about how everyones dead. she wasnt ever good at handling me even when i was on my medication, so that just made everything worse, and i think she started gonig crazy too. and then we had an argument and then i just... yknow...'

'if you try and off me im not gonna be any kinder back.'

she shrunk down where she was sitting on the floor. 'ok.' she sounded like she was about to cry. 'im sorry.'

i decided to switch topics. i didnt want to have a crying kid again. 'how fit are you?'

'what? oh, uh, i did gymnastics in school?'

i didnt know what to make of that. 'youre gonna help me hunt, clean, prepare, scavenge, and cull zombies. that way youll earn your keep.'

'i can do that.'

awkward pause. 'i dont know what to do about your periods.'

she interuppted me before i finished speaking. 'dont say that! i... i have the stuff at my home. we can just go back and get it.'

'your dead mom is there.'

'yeah, i know.'

and other awkward pause. 'we're going on my bike. we'll get whatever you need, and we'll bury your mother.'

'what?'

i guess she didnt hear me. 'i said we're gonna go back, get the shit you need, and-'

'you want to bury my mother?'

'youre a kid. its only fair to give you closure.'

she smiled then forced it down. 'thank you. that means a lot.' gears turned in her head. 'why dont we move to my place? its better'

'no. im full well set up here. your place is too exposed, could see it from a mile away. if i were a more deranged man, you wouldve been dead the second i saw you through the window.'

'ok, ok, i get it.'

'we leave today.'

she shrunk again. 'can we not?'

'what?'

'its my mom. i fucking killed my mom, i dont wanna go back so soon, i just- i just wanna process it first. can we just go later?'

'tomorrow.'

'oh. ok, yeah, thats good. thanks.'

'you answered my questions good.' i didnt know how to end the conversation. 'you can go now, kid.'

[bumblepony]

bloody kiss, with Joel and Ellie (platonic of course)

Thank you @lertiasworld, for your awesome prompt here it is.

The cabin had to be over 50 or 60 years old, looking at how the logs were fit together and what was used to seal the joins. Joel’s thankful means it’s sturdy, well made. None of the shit builds put together in the late 90’s early 20’s. The kitchen and bath had been updated at some point, but everything else looks like it was original to the build. Fine craftsmanship. Joel wishes he could thank whoever took the time and effort to build this place out in the middle of nowhere, but they were probably long since dead, just like everyone else.

Joel shuffles to the small camp stove he has set up on the counter and checks the water inside. It’s almost where he needs it to be, just a few more minutes. He bends to pick up a piece of flannel that has fallen to the floor and hisses as pain spikes through his abdomen. He presses a flat palm to his side against the stab wound and finishes picking up the cloth. Once he has it safely pilled with the others, he allows himself to fall back into the kitchen chair behind him. It’s sturdy like the rest of the structure, made with loving hands to withstand the test of time. Someone had made this cabin and the things inside of it as a legacy, a place for a family to come for generations and generations. Perhaps somewhere out there in the hellscape that this world currently is, someone still lives and knows about this place intimately. Had come here with family members on vacations and holidays. Had played boradgames in the living room around the large stone fireplace. Ate dinner at the finely crafted kitchen table, lovingly sanded and finished. Maybe someone still walked this earth and dreamed about this cabin and the memories it held. Joel doubts it, but who really knows, the world can be funny sometimes.

Just look at himself—he’s a great example. A man far past his prime, traversing the earth for the past 20 years as little more than a ghost, failing everyone he ever cared for, suddenly finding himself alive again—pretty funny if you ask him. 

It only took one little girl with a messy ponytail, ratty-ass Converse sneakers, shitty puns, and a generally annoying personality to get his ass out of the grave he’d buried himself in all those years ago in Texas. One girl who was unwilling to give him up even after he told her ‘she wasn’t his daughter and he sure as hell wasn’t her dad’, failed her by getting stabbed and leaving her to fend for herself, shoved her away when she was trying to save his sorry carcass. 

All it took was for her small, shaking, blood covered fingers to curl into his own for Joel to finally see that this girl owned him now. That she had carved his broken heart out of his chest, put all the pieces back together with spit and pure stubbornness, and now carried it around in her delicate, precious, grasping hands. There was no going back for Joel now.

Joel sighs and lifts his shirt. The wound is still red and sore, but the creeping lines of infection are slowly receding thanks to the medicine Ellie somehow got for him. He isn’t going to die today. 

He grabbed the bottle of alcohol and gauze waiting on the table and quickly and efficiently cleaned the wound. Once he’s done, he peels off his shirts stained beyond repair, and replaces them with the clothing he found sitting in one of the cedar chests upstairs. The fabric smells faintly of cedar and lilac and is soft to the touch, washed and rewashed over the years, cared for in the same way that everything in this cabin had been.

He stands and turns off the camp stove the water now warm enough for his purposes. He tucks the pieces of ripped-up flannel under his arm and carries the pot into the next room. Ellie sits in the chair he left her in, sleeping bag securely wrapped around her and pulled up to just under her chin. Her eyes follow him when he enters the room, but it seems more like an animal taking account of movement in the room than her actually being aware of his presence.

“Hey there kiddo, got some water all warmed up here so we can get you all cleaned up.” He holds up the pot for her to see and waits for a response. When she just continues to stare at him, eyes wide and vacant, he sighs and shuffles the rest of the way over. He drops the pot onto the side table next to the recliner and pulls over the kitchen chair he’d brought in earlier. He lowers himself slowly into the chair's embrace with a groan and puts his elbows on his knees so he can cup Ellie’s face and turn it from side to side, trying to decide where he should start.

She’s been like a doll since they’d left Silver Lake. The most reaction he’d gotten from her was when he first found her, and she’d screamed, yelled, and bucked against his hold. It had scared him those first few moments, the desperate nature of her screams, the frantic visceral response to his touch. It had left him with a pit of dread deep in his gut. It had only started to loosen when he’d put her face in his hands and she’d recognized him, her eyes taking him in like he was an apparition come to life.

Her lips had parted, and a single word had escaped: “He…” And then she’d fallen into him, collapsed into his hold like a puppet with its strings cut, her arms wrapping around his neck, garbled words mumbled into his chest. He’d felt his whole world falling back into place, crashing down on him like a tidal wave in the ocean, filling him and leaving him adrift in the same breath. He held her to him. Baby girl so effortlessly said as he soothed her trembling form. Then he’d needed to lay eyes on her again, so he’d pulled her away and it was this girl who he now cradled in the palm of his hands who stared back at him.

He’d covered her with his coat and handed her her bag. She took it easy enough, but all emotion, all awareness, was gone, and he knew why. He’d seen it time and again in others who had experienced great fear, stress, and trauma. Whatever had happened to her, the stress of all she had to do to stay alive had finally been lifted from her with his arrival. She finally felt safe enough to let it all go and disappear inside of herself for a time so her body and brain could recover. She trusted him so implicitly that she let herself go, let him take over, guide her through hours of trudging through snow, and lead her to this cabin with its sturdy walls and lovingly built interior. She hid inside her mind because she knew it was finally safe for her to do so.

He dips one of the soft pieces of flannel into the warm water and brings it to her brow. With slow, gentle swipes, he first softens then wipes the blood from her skin. As he works, he comes to a spot where Ellie hisses, and he looks down at her face in surprise. “Darlin’, you okay?” Her eyes look up to him slowly, but she doesn’t respond, “That hurt?” She blinks, and he purses his lips, thinking. 

“Blink twice if it hurts and once if it doesn’t,” Joel says softly. Her eyes suddenly wet, blink once, then again, and a single fat tear squeezes past her waterline and crawls down her cheek, leaving a clear track behind. Joel's know forms in his throat so large he can barely swallow around it, and he can feel his own tears building behind his eyes 

“Oh, baby.” Without thought, he reaches a trembling hand out to cup the back of her head and leans forward, placing a lingering delicate kiss on her bruised and broken skin. She leans into his touch, her body suddenly sagging against him, and like a floodgate opening, a great shuddering sob coming from deep in her chest breaks loose from her lips. Joel carefully gathers her into his lap, sleeping bag and all, and places kiss after kiss upon her bloody hair, brow, and cheeks as he slowly rocks her and whispers tenderly into her skin, “Oh, my baby girl. I got you, I got you.”

Joel sits with her as she pours all her pain, fear, and anger into the stale, dust-filled air of the cabin. The taste of iron lingers in his mouth as he continues to press his lips to all the multitudes of hurts that litter her skin. He prays to whatever god may be listening that he can somehow ease her pain in this way as he once did with another little girl whose hurts, while not as grave, had felt just as real. He holds her in the safety and comfort of his arms until she finds her peace, tears spent, she finally drifts to sleep.

Joel thinks that he is not unlike this old but sturdy cabin. For 20 years, it has sat empty, devoid of love, just as he has. Filled with memories of the past that they will never see again, they both lingered on this earth, useless. But now they have both found a purpose again. They can once again open themselves up to love and give safety and strength as they were always meant to do.

With a grunt, Joel lifts himself and Ellie from the chair and shifts down into the recliner. With care, he settles her more comfortably in his arms and allows his eyes to close. He can heat the water again tomorrow. For tonight, they will sleep in comfort and peace.

[trauma-is]

trauma is feeling like a monster for enforcing boundaries.

.

[cafeyote]

me and gang at the haunted house

[vacations-around-the-world]

Eintrag 8.) Neue Woche, neues Glück

Februar, 24.2025

Vorab die Erinnerung, wenn man das Datum liest, in 10 Monaten ist schon wieder Christmas Time.

Guten Morgen, wie man am Bild sieht, es ist früh am Morgen. Meine Fahrer App ist auch ready to work, nur noch den Mietwagen hinterlegen und schon kann es los gehen. Anders als in der Vergangenheit, zielt das Fahren nur zur Finanzierung des Trips ab. Wird kein 8 oder 12h schicht Tag wie einst.

Der gestrige Tag war echt schön, der heutige soll, wie die kommenden Tage, auch schön und warm werden. Passend ist dann auch die Freizeit Aktivität geplant. Einige Museen, die ich mir immer aufgespart habe, werden mich zu Gesicht bekommen. Man könnte jetzt den Eindruck bekommen, dass ich das Ausstellungsstück bin. Das Marine Museum am Hapor drive in San Diego zum Beispiel und die Midway - ein Flugzeugträger. Der Botanic garden im Balboa Park sollte, nach einer Restauration, wieder offen sein. Aber das wird Ende nächster Woche in Angriff genommen, wie die In-house Museen, wenn das Wetter kurz schlecht wird.

Gestern kurz im Aldi gewesen, die Eier Preise sind echt heftig, nach der Geflügelpest. Wird dann wohl teuer werden, wenn es zu Dennys oder iHop zum Frühstück geht. Sizzlers ist auch geplant, essen zu gehen-später dazu mehr.

Das mit Sizzlers und Essen gehen, ging dann doch schneller als gedacht. Ist ein Restaurant wo man all you can Eat machen kann, jedoch nur von Suppen, Salat, dessert. Man kann sich aber auch normal was bestellen. Als reiner Pflanzen-käse-süsszeug-esser ist das ein Paradies für mich. $20 kostet das all you can eat, entsprechend sitzt man und haut sich die wampe voll. Sizzlers ist so ähnlich wie Spoup Plantation (was es seit covid nicht mehr gibt). (Bild: Sizzlers Oceanside)

Der Rest des Tage Tages, war ganz unspektakulär. Mein Mietwagen hab ich nun bekommen. Zum Glück war kein Ami Schlitten. Sah fast schon so aus, aber der war zu schmutzig... Somit wurde es kein Chavi Malibu sondern ein Nissan Sentra. Naja, bin besseres gewohnt aber für die 12 tage, passt es schon.

Nach dem einfahren und sich wieder an das System gewöhnen hab ich dann angefangen, paar Fahrten zu machen. Am Ende waren es 9 Fahrten in glaub 4hbund hab gute $80 zusammen bekommen. Optimal ist es nicht, aber für nur ein Nachmittag und für die Holzklasse zu fahren, ok.

Kosten: $150 Kaution Mietwagen

$20 Sizzlers - Essen

Einnahme: ~$80

[mumbito]

me clicking on a video from the silliest man in the world: teehee what wacky hijinks await me

world renown block clown mumbo Fucking jumbo: you ever think about how old technology seems to live forever in the suspended state of whatever the newest advancements were at the time. how most technology immediately and fundamentally tells you when it was important and when it was left in the dust. it’s suspended in its era forever, and in that it is perfect.

stagnation is a form of death but nostalgia is cruel immortality. still i find myself locked in pursuit of it until i finally stumble across the undeath of the mechanical. as my hard earned improvement truly begins to pay dividends, surrounded by my opus of change, i will freeze myself in eternal utopia. the only way to never die is to preemptively kill whoever you might become. i will not have a grave, i will not be ashes and dust. i will be a perfect, extant machine.

me: Ok. i dont think this will plague me at all actually. like video.

[eydilily]

(look at what i have to offer) — this is the spider's nest.

[throughmilliesview]

[December 23, 2020 at 10:35] | Notes

I’m such a Beca Mitchell. It scares me.

[hymnism]

my one wish for studio trigger is that they don't draw laios like a dehydrated twink when he takes his shirt off if he doesn't look exactly like this in the anime i will cry and scream

EDITING THIS TO INCLUDE THE COMMENTS I DON'T WANT PEOPLE REBLOGGING THIS WITHOUT THEM

[1alchemistart]

doing my duty of drawing skeleton falin

[bruciemilf]

I think it’d be so funny if Bruce just refuses to disclose the existence of Robin to the league. He knows it’d take less than a minute for them to form a wicked mock club against him.

Except he just? Carries Robin around. Under that endless void that is his cape. Clark pinches the stress point between his brows. “Batman, is that a child under your cape?”

“No.”

“Bruce I can HEAR his heartbeat.”

“I think the long exposure to kryptonite partially damaged your brain. There is no child here, Clark.”

“He’s literally drinking Barry’s coffee right now.”

“He’s WHAT-“

[bowenoke]

before and after a brief explanation