#also sorry this is so long

[dogmovesout]

closed starter for @howromantic location: coffee shop

When he first returned from the dead, Tristan had taken at least somewhat a bit of care at trying to remain within the shadows. Sure, he had gone off and immediately started threatening the people from his old life and tried to arrange the murder of his ex-wife - but he had at least only come out at night and watched his back every time he did leave Oogie’s spare hideaway apartment. But after the months had passed and no one had managed to really get to him at all, his confidence began to grow. Enough so that he felt completely fine actually going out and about around the island in the broad daylight again. Of course, he always had his gun and a few knives on his person, ready for any potential threat to his new found life - but so far he hadn’t needed any of it.

The coffee shop was one of his more frequent stops, enough so that the baristas and cashiers were starting to remember him. It probably wasn’t smart, becoming a regular anywhere, but a spiked triple espresso was one of the only things that really ever helped with his hangovers anymore. And getting that cure was worth any risk of exposing himself a bit too much. Normally Tristan was a grab and go kind of guy, but on occasion there would be something that caught his eye and made staying in the shop for a bit worthwhile. And today that something was actually a someone, a familiar blonde that he’d never actually met before but had been gifted pictures of every year since she had been born. The smart thing to do would be to leave, to rush out of there before she had any chance of seeing him - but Tristan Tramp had never been known to be an intellectual. Besides, maybe it was about time he finally ripped the bandaid off and faced the mess of his secret triplet children.

“Marie? Marie Bonfamille, that’s you right?” he only somewhat hesitantly asks as he approaches her. Though the moment her head snaps up and she’s looking at Tristan, he knows for absolute certainty that is indeed his daughter. For a moment he debates what to do, whether to act like he knew she and her brothers were on the isle or pretend like this is all news to him. And though he knows it can easily be fact checked against his other children, the safest bet seems to play the ignorance route. “Holy shit. It really is you. What - what are you doing here? I thought you were in France with your mother and brothers?” A pause as he shakes his head, grinning in wonder as if this is all the best news he’s ever heard. It’s a bit of an act, but one he can pull off well considering he is indeed actually excited to finally be meeting her. “Oh shit, I’m probably freaking you the fuck out, aren’t I? I’m Tristan. Tristan Tramp… your father.” Whether any of his family had told the triplets that he was back to life, he didn’t know, but they’re about to be brought into the loop if not.

[chaosandwolves]

Tell me about My Hollow Fortress please? 💕🦛

Hello lovely!

Ooohhh yes! I was actually so proud of that one but then - like so often- I lost the momentum and it's hard to get back into it. (one of the most annoying things about ADHD tbh)

So my document says it's inspired by this fic by @evcndiaz

I gotta be honest, I'm gonna have to reread that first so I can't tell you much about that fic rn.

This wip is basically about Eddie and how, throughout his life, he has built these walls around him and only ever done what people expected him to do.

And I went with this image of a fortress he's built that he keeps repairing whenever there is a dent.

And Chris and the 118 make it all crumbling down. And, of course, Buck

The fic is full of metaphors surrounding this fortress and programming.

I really tried to choose a small snippet but I couldn't quite decide so here is a bigger part of the WIP

Eddie does all these things for others, wants all these things for others, builds all these things...

For others.

But not for himself, never for himself. How could he? How could he? When the only time he allowed himself to build something for himself;

when the only time he dared to follow his heart without it having to pass all the checkpoints in his head;

when the only time he could taste the feeling of "home" on his tongue;

when the only time he dared to take and to live and to breathe;

when the only time "together" was a feeling and not just carefully carved out hollow scripts and instructions;

When the only time he allowed himself all that, it was not only ripped from him but he was also the reason for all the pain that followed.

So for Eddie the next steps were crystal clear.

He built himself up again, locked himself in a perfectly, rule following form he could shape and mold as needed. Built it like a responsive program, with clear instructions and predictable responses. He could rewrite the script every time it was needed. He learned how to smile in a way that wouldn't show how little it reached inside him.

Sometimes, sometimes Shannon put a dent or a little crack into his form. And sometimes he would allow himself to feel the warmth and light coming through, just for a few moments, before he took his bucket of clay to repair the damage.

It was good. He was doing well. Doing what he had calculated the world was expecting of him.

But then… Then the unforeseen variable hit him and his sculpture started to crumble and in his panic, he couldn't keep up the repair, couldn't find a solution. And everything was filling up with black smoke and he couldn't breathe and so he ran.

He ran far far away and sought out the only place he knew where he could still pretend to be in control, pretend to follow the caring love he was supposed to feel in his bones but that he had disposed of outside his fortress.

Where he didn't have to think about the programming anymore, could hand over the script to someone else to have time; time to rebuild and form and mold.

And it worked. Partially. Cause war is one big unpredictable variable.

But it was fine. Eddie learned how to mend the irreversible damages the war left him with. He couldn't close the cracks and the dents but he could put another layer of clay on top. It's fine.

And then.

Then Christopher was there and Eddie wanted to scream. This was not supposed to happen. There was suddenly this massive hole right above his heart and Christopher filled it with light and laughter that reached inside his shell and crept into his skin and reached for his heart.

It wasn't fair. Eddie had so carefully collected all the instructions and built them into his program, wrote the script.

It was the perfect plan.

But Christopher took his pen and broke it. He took the access to his coding and Eddie was left with only the data he had collected to this point and wasn't able to adjust everything accordingly.

So he kept adding layers of clay around the hole he couldn't close.

But slowly, slowly, slowly the warmth crept inside his bones and the memory of breath in his chest and laughter in his heart brushed the outer skirts of his existence.

And just as he was pushing it away he choked at the thought that his son would one day live like this and the next mission appeared in front of him like an order.

So he took Christopher, brought him to safety, away from everything that had helped Eddie to build his hollow castle.

That was probably the best decision he ever made and he decided that if his broken program doesn't provide him with a script, he will filter it through Chris, make it work for his son to make sure that he could keep laughing and breathing with his entire being.

That was his most important mission, standing above all else.

When he met the 118 it was easy to run his programs and do all the things. Following orders on a daily basis again made it all so much easier.

It gave him time to guard the hole and thicken his walls.

But he didn't notice that the clay was melting faster than he could keep reapplying it.

The walls of his bunker grew thin and started to crumble bit by bit.

And Christopher wasn't the only one any more who threatened his fortress.

The 118 is family.

Family like Eddie had always wished but never gotten an instruction for. So he couldn't stop them from appearing at his door steps and bringing light and peeking through the cracks.

And Eddie found himself minding it less and less.

The tension in his shoulders eased, the ache in his arms started to lighten as he didn't have to apply the clay anymore in every free second he had.

And then

Buck

...

And for a second, for a second he stands in the burning remains of his castle, stands in absolute darkness, knowing that the light is gone forever.

But then Chris is there, alive and breathing.

Chris tells him everything. How Buck saved him, how he saved even more people, how Chris fell into the water.

For a second he wants to be angry at Buck. Wants to to take this as a reason to reinforce his fortress.

But then he remembers Buck's face, hears his voice, feels his despair.

And he knows it in his bones that Buck saved Chris, that Buck would do everything for his son

And then then he was shot and everything crumbled down.

He was stripped of all the walls in an instance. They were torn down and ripped apart and there was nothing he could do about it.

He desperately scrambled for the burned pieces of his script, for the broken bits of his programs and he tried, he tried and tried to hastily rebuild and he stepped away from Buck who brought all this damage and ache and longing which was just too much too much too much too much.

[opt1gan]

Two movies I like

[thorinds]

1000 Books You May Have Actually Read

[gongyussy]

studio trigger understood the assignment. i would let her wreck me.

[keferon]

Don’t mind me I just like to see him go bananas about cartoonish Autobot rules

Maaan…..if Prowl was in tfp he would spontaneously combust at least once a day

[hotdogmchiggin]

Company Mandated Fancy Fits on the Tulpar 😏

Also had to include the REAL star of the show (and a bonus)

Based off of this and this. Thank you very much joetastic for being inspirational 👍

The REAL reason this is late

[sentate]

SENTATE - The Sunset Collection

Blending beach days with date nights; The Sunset Collection is fresh set of romantic dresses that can be kept casual for the day or glammed up for the evening. Whether its a cheeky sheer mini dress or a showstopping silk gown, your sims are guaranteed to be sizzling by sunset!

This 8 item set comes in my 30 swatch colour palette plus 15 new print swatches.

8 Items Total / 30 Plain Swatches (+15 prints)

DOWNLOAD - Free on Patreon

MORE DOWNLOADS  |  TERMS OF USE  |  LINK TREE

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo learns something about himself 🏳️‍⚧️

Based roughly on this old post.

Bonus:

[Leo is taking the fact that he was born biologically female simultaneously very well and also not so well but overall he’s mostly coping with the fact that it was Draxum that just essentially gave him the turtle equivalent of ‘The Talk’.]

[stellarphileistic]

“Vétkesek közt cinkos, aki néma”

from the book “Jónás könyve” by Babits Mihály. Although the phrase itself cannot be directly translated, it is what best fits this topic in my opinion. Vaguely this sentence means that someone who chooses to stay silent in a situation is still at fault. Curly, who enabled Jimmy’s behaviour and actions towards Anya is guilty as well, however he did not deserve any of the things he had gone through after the crash.

[cirrus-grey]

[aqueductaquarii]

egghead law...on one hand i think he would choose battle-ready clothing but also end up pressing the hawaiian shirt button at the last second. on the other hand i think he would wear a shaka-esque coat...

[stil-lindigo]

mumbattan's one and only pavitr prabhakar!!

prints

[st4ngray]

Haven’t finished the game yet did this happen

[rusticfurnace]

GHOSTSOAP // "you sweet fucker" MINICOMIC!!!

[gotchibam]

Shiny Mimikyu, Shiny Sylveon, and Shiny Whimsicott ko-fi doodle for wanderbanana! ✨