The Waldoff Triplets
Dylan Colt, Ava Eloise, and Christian Jameson
Christian Jameson - First Born
Dylan Colt - Second Son
Ava Eloise - The Baby
Not today Justin
d e v o n
Cosmic Funnies
No title available

⁂
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Discoholic 🪩
Keni
Xuebing Du
One Nice Bug Per Day
Acquired Stardust
i don't do bad sauce passes
No title available
noise dept.
No title available
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Mike Driver
almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

roma★
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@sinfullysimlicious
The Waldoff Triplets
Dylan Colt, Ava Eloise, and Christian Jameson
Christian Jameson - First Born
Dylan Colt - Second Son
Ava Eloise - The Baby
BASICPIXELS GIVEAWAY 150 FOLLOWERS
You know that feeling when you go on Tumblr and hit a milestone? Probably. So I want to thank everyone who followed me, and all the amazing people I met this year ♥ You guys are amazing :3
There will be three house beds to win. 2 bunk beds and one single. Not functional, sorry! More info under the cut :3
Keep reading
Awesome looking!
Prologue Part 2:
So it went over the next years, she celebrated year after year in the system, learning lesson after lesson. Not every home was a bad one, but she learned, the good ones never seemed to last, no one lasted, her longest stay had been a little over year. In the 8 years she had grown up in the system, she had been placed in over 20 homes. This was her last stop though. There would be no more homes for her, only this place, this institution for “troubled” teens.
She mostly tuned out the latest in a long line of case workers, as she rambled on about how great of an experience this would be for her, a new start in a new town, yadda yadda..as if somehow that relieved her conscious as she shoved Brianne into some group facility, to mark the “troubled” teen off of her check lists of problems for good.
The car pulled to a stop and Brianne slid out, she was small in stature, a less than ideal start in life and early years, had stunted her growth, stunted a lot of things. Pale purple hair, framed her face, the wind blowing it across pale freckled skin as she wrapped her oversized, worn jacket around her and shielded her eyes from the sun that glimmered, hazy behind thinning clouds. Her shoulders squared after reaching back in the silver older model Cadillac, and grabbing the small backpack that held her entire life inside, her chin lifted following the path towards the door.
They didn’t even make it to the porch before the screen was flung open and a woman emerged. She hurried down the stairs, the door shutting behind her as she reached out offering her hand to the worker. Brianne cocked her head, studying the house more than the woman, her eyes going over every detail.
A smirk curled her lips as she watched the transfer occur, papers signed, folders exchanged advice for handling the girl given, before the social worker scampered off to her car and was nothing more than a dust trail. Turning around and crossing her arms over her chest, she watched until the trail disappeared. They all said she was bound to be trouble, now she was just trouble bound.
Prologue Part 1
Brianna Keli Walsh was born at 12:01 on January 1st of 2001, weighing 3 pounds and 2 ounces, born 4 weeks premature. There was no one to hold her, only needles and tubes, there was no anxious father hovering as doctors and nurses worked furiously to keep her alive, and no aunt’s and uncles, no grandparents, no family friends bringing gifts by, saying how precious she was. There was just the cold sterile incubator, where she spent her first 3 months of life, and the hurried handling of nurses who had too much to do and too little time to do it in. She met her mother, Arlene Rose Walsh, the day she was released, the woman hurried in, sob stories about healing and getting clean given to the nursing staff before bundling the tiny Brianna away to the dingy apartment she called home. Her life was, and remains a series of lessons, from the moment she entered this world, bloody and screaming, she was learning. She learned many lessons in her early years. She learned that when mommy disappeared, she had to fend for herself, or starve, and that when she was in her room with an uncle, she was to stay in her own room, out of sight. She learned that mommies don’t live forever, and death isn’t clean, it leaves you covered in vomit and urine, and it smelled..well it was a smell that you never really forget. She was 8 when she learned that last lesson, one that haunted her dreams for years to come. Her mother OD’d and when, eventually authorities showed up, after Brianne had missed several days of school, she was place into the system. In the system she continued learning lessons. Before she was placed, as she sat in a tiny bland room, with toys that were mostly broken and missing parts, she learned that 8 year old girls aren’t so easy to place. She learned she was too old to be adoptable as social workers discussed me, as if she wasn’t sitting a few feet away, as if she didn’t have ears to hear the words they said, the way they spoke of her mommy, the way they spoke of her. “The girl’s bound to be trouble, with that as a mother.” In her first foster home, she learned what a whore was, and what drugs were, and that because her mommy was a drugged up whore, she wasn’t as good as other children, especially birth children, wasn’t as deserving. In her second home, she learned that love was for children with good parents, that children like her, they were to be grateful for any crumb they were tossed, they didn’t deserve anything. The very basics needs, a bed to sleep in, food to eat, a hot shower, were all privileges to be earned, and should forever be grateful they were given.
Change a single letter and change the word game
I want to play a game with you all.
You have to make a new word by changing only one letter of the last word.
Dirt
Dire
Bare
Care
Mare
Made
Lark
Park
pear
Heat
Seat
Beat
Bean
Teal
Beer
Fear
Seal
Heal
Meat
Heat
Tear
Fear
Reap
Real
Fell
Bell
Tell
Sell
yall
molt
Prologue Part 2:
So it went over the next years, she celebrated year after year in the system, learning lesson after lesson. Not every home was a bad one, but she learned, the good ones never seemed to last, no one lasted, her longest stay had been a little over year. In the 8 years she had grown up in the system, she had been placed in over 20 homes. This was her last stop though. There would be no more homes for her, only this place, this institution for “troubled” teens.
She mostly tuned out the latest in a long line of case workers, as she rambled on about how great of an experience this would be for her, a new start in a new town, yadda yadda..as if somehow that relieved her conscious as she shoved Brianne into some group facility, to mark the “troubled” teen off of her check lists of problems for good.
The car pulled to a stop and Brianne slid out, she was small in stature, a less than ideal start in life and early years, had stunted her growth, stunted a lot of things. Pale purple hair, framed her face, the wind blowing it across pale freckled skin as she wrapped her oversized, worn jacket around her and shielded her eyes from the sun that glimmered, hazy behind thinning clouds. Her shoulders squared after reaching back in the silver older model Cadillac, and grabbing the small backpack that held her entire life inside, her chin lifted following the path towards the door.
They didn’t even make it to the porch before the screen was flung open and a woman emerged. She hurried down the stairs, the door shutting behind her as she reached out offering her hand to the worker. Brianne cocked her head, studying the house more than the woman, her eyes going over every detail.
A smirk curled her lips as she watched the transfer occur, papers signed, folders exchanged advice for handling the girl given, before the social worker scampered off to her car and was nothing more than a dust trail. Turning around and crossing her arms over her chest, she watched until the trail disappeared. They all said she was bound to be trouble, now she was just trouble bound.
Prologue Part 1
Brianna Keli Walsh was born at 12:01 on January 1st of 2001, weighing 3 pounds and 2 ounces, born 4 weeks premature. There was no one to hold her, only needles and tubes, there was no anxious father hovering as doctors and nurses worked furiously to keep her alive, and no aunt’s and uncles, no grandparents, no family friends bringing gifts by, saying how precious she was. There was just the cold sterile incubator, where she spent her first 3 months of life, and the hurried handling of nurses who had too much to do and too little time to do it in. She met her mother, Arlene Rose Walsh, the day she was released, the woman hurried in, sob stories about healing and getting clean given to the nursing staff before bundling the tiny Brianna away to the dingy apartment she called home. Her life was, and remains a series of lessons, from the moment she entered this world, bloody and screaming, she was learning. She learned many lessons in her early years. She learned that when mommy disappeared, she had to fend for herself, or starve, and that when she was in her room with an uncle, she was to stay in her own room, out of sight. She learned that mommies don’t live forever, and death isn’t clean, it leaves you covered in vomit and urine, and it smelled..well it was a smell that you never really forget. She was 8 when she learned that last lesson, one that haunted her dreams for years to come. Her mother OD’d and when, eventually authorities showed up, after Brianne had missed several days of school, she was place into the system. In the system she continued learning lessons. Before she was placed, as she sat in a tiny bland room, with toys that were mostly broken and missing parts, she learned that 8 year old girls aren’t so easy to place. She learned she was too old to be adoptable as social workers discussed me, as if she wasn’t sitting a few feet away, as if she didn’t have ears to hear the words they said, the way they spoke of her mommy, the way they spoke of her. “The girl’s bound to be trouble, with that as a mother.” In her first foster home, she learned what a whore was, and what drugs were, and that because her mommy was a drugged up whore, she wasn’t as good as other children, especially birth children, wasn’t as deserving. In her second home, she learned that love was for children with good parents, that children like her, they were to be grateful for any crumb they were tossed, they didn’t deserve anything. The very basics needs, a bed to sleep in, food to eat, a hot shower, were all privileges to be earned, and should forever be grateful they were given.
Prologue Part 1
Brianne Keli Walsh was born at 12:01 on January 1st of 2001, weighing 3 pounds and 2 ounces, born 4 weeks premature. There was no one to hold her, only needles and tubes, there was no anxious father hovering as doctors and nurses worked furiously to keep her alive, and no aunt’s and uncles, no grandparents, no family friends bringing gifts by, saying how precious she was. There was just the cold sterile incubator, where she spent her first 3 months of life, and the hurried handling of nurses who had too much to do and too little time to do it in. She met her mother, Arlene Rose Walsh, the day she was released, the woman hurried in, sob stories about healing and getting clean given to the nursing staff before bundling the tiny Brianne away to the dingy apartment she called home. Her life was, and remains a series of lessons, from the moment she entered this world, bloody and screaming, she was learning. She learned many lessons in her early years. She learned that when mommy disappeared, she had to fend for herself, or starve, and that when she was in her room with an uncle, she was to stay in her own room, out of sight. She learned that mommies don’t live forever, and death isn’t clean, it leaves you covered in vomit and urine, and it smelled..well it was a smell that you never really forget. She was 8 when she learned that last lesson, one that haunted her dreams for years to come. Her mother OD’d and when, eventually authorities showed up, after Brianne had missed several days of school, she was place into the system. In the system she continued learning lessons. Before she was placed, as she sat in a tiny bland room, with toys that were mostly broken and missing parts, she learned that 8 year old girls aren’t so easy to place. She learned she was too old to be adoptable as social workers discussed me, as if she wasn’t sitting a few feet away, as if she didn’t have ears to hear the words they said, the way they spoke of her mommy, the way they spoke of her. “The girl’s bound to be trouble, with that as a mother.” In her first foster home, she learned what a whore was, and what drugs were, and that because her mommy was a drugged up whore, she wasn’t as good as other children, especially birth children, wasn’t as deserving. In her second home, she learned that love was for children with good parents, that children like her, they were to be grateful for any crumb they were tossed, they didn’t deserve anything. The very basics needs, a bed to sleep in, food to eat, a hot shower, were all privileges to be earned, and should forever be grateful they were given.
Looking for Rp? Read this!! Bar Harbor McArthur High School Rp
If you are interested and too shy to make first contact just hit the like button *And* repost this, and myself or Ry will contact you!
Located off the coast of Maine, is the sleepy little island town of Bar Harbor and home to the Bar Harbor McArthur High School Rp . The Bar Harbor group rp is based around the lives of students at McArthur High, the trouble they get into, the loves they fall in and out of, the secrets they share, and the ones that stay forever as skeletons in their closets. The Bar Harbor Facebook Rp is open to anyone to join, if you would like to join feel free to contact Ryder @onemoresim or on his facebook profile here or contact me and I’ll let Ry know! It’s pretty laid back, all that he asks is that you actively participate, do a character profile like the one posted below and follow general rp guidelines. Creators must be at least 16 years of age to join. It is humans only and of course characters must be high school age between 16 and 19 years old. This is a Sims 3 based Rp, most people just made young adults look teenish so if you hate dealing with sims 3 teens no worries there (I know I do!) You are free to interact within the facebook community, you don’t have to limit rp to just those in the group, the actual rp is set in Bar Harbor Maine a real town in name but fictionalized for the rp of course.
Ava and Sandro
@sinfullysimlicious
They look so awesome together!
Sandro
@sinfullysimlicious
Love the photos!!!
My baby I just finished, Brianne is part of a facebook high school group rp. It’s open to anyone to join, if you would like to join feel free to contact Ryder @onemoresim or on his facebook profile here or contact me and I’ll let Ry know! It’s pretty laid back, all that he asks is that you actively participate, do a character profile like the one posted below and follow general rp guidelines. Creators must be at least 16 years of age to join. It is humans only and of course characters must be high school age between 16 and 19 years old. All characters are sims 3 based, most people just made young adults look teenish so if you hate dealing with sims 3 teens no worries there (I know I do!) You are free to interact within the facebook community, you don’t have to limit rp to just those in the group, the actual rp is set in Bar Harbor Maine a real town in name but fictionalized for the rp of course.
NAME: Brianne Keli Walsh
AGE:16
D.O.B: January 1,2001
SIBLINGS: None
PARENTS:Unknown John (Father) and Arlene Rose Walsh(Mother)
STATUS: High School Student.
SCARS, TATTOOS, PIERCINGS: Several tattoos on left thigh, left arm, chest, right arm, right fingers, and back. Piercings in right eyebrow, left nostril, and left tragus piercing.
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single
LIKES: fluffernutter sandwiches, any and every kind of animal, listening to Enigma with a good joint, parties, writing and reading.
DISLIKES: Do Gooders, authority in general, eggs of any kind, any meat in a loaf form, elves.
FACEBOOK PROFILE:
Brianna Walsh
ADDITIONAL INFO:
Left an orphan when she was 8, Brianne has been bounced from home to home. All that bouncing now has come to an abrupt stop as she is left at Bar Harbor Home for Children, a group home for the unadoptable, the trouble makers, the hard to handle, the one’s the system throw’s away, ran by Mrs. Abigail Winslow, a member in high standing at the local Baptist church, on the school board, a community member of very high standing in short.
Reposting with information to join the group rp if you are interested!
My other new baby I just finished, really love him! He’s part of a facebook high school group rp. It’s open to anyone to join, if you would like to join feel free to contact Ryder @onemoresim or on his facebook profile here or contact me and I’ll let Ry know! It’s pretty laid back, all that he asks is that you actively participate, do a character profile like the one posted below and follow general rp guidelines. Creators must be at least 16 years of age to join. It is humans only and of course characters must be high school age between 16 and 19 years old. All characters are sims 3 based, most people just made young adults look teenish so if you hate dealing with sims 3 teens no worries there (I know I do!) You are free to interact within the facebook community, you don’t have to limit rp to just those in the group, the actual rp is set in Bar Harbor Maine a real town in name but fictionalized for the rp of course.
NAME: Rogan Bryce Jackson
AGE: 18
D.O.B: August 7, 1998
SIBLINGS: None
PARENTS: Bryce Dean Jackson(Father deceased) and Karen Anne Jackson. Maiden name Hunt(Mother)
STATUS: Junior at McArthur High School in Bar Harbor, Maine
SCARS, TATTOOS, PIERCINGS: None yet
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single
LIKES: Bikes, his club, his mom, blueberry red bull, a good cheeseburger and fries, anything his mom cooks, summer thunderstorms
DISLIKES: Cops (Especially Sam Holden), people who think they are better than everyone else, cold weather, boxing
FACEBOOK PROFILE: Rogan Jackson
ADDITIONAL INFO: Rogan was born and raised in Bar Harbor Maine, as was his father, grandfather, and great grandfather. His grandfather was one of the founders of the Iron Invader’s, which now had several chapters throughout the U.S. Rogan idolized his dad who when he was 8, was killed doing club business, and while the club settled the score, it didn’t bring his father back. The club has always looked out for his mom and him, most of the members taking him under his wing, trying to fill the gap that his father’s death left in their lives. They are his family and his devotion to them and his mom is without limits, there is nothing he wouldn’t do for either. Rogan was made a prospect to the Iron Invaders MC on his 18th birthday. In school Rogan has his group he hangs out with, mostly the kids that don’t fit in any of the other groups, and he has a reputation for swinging a punch that lands you on your back, and being quick to swing it if you disrespected him, his club, or his family. He’s been suspended multiple times for fighting, and arrested 3 times for assault charges, of course as a minor, those all went away on his 18th birthday as well. In the past he went through as stage of skipping school frequently, until the clubs President warned him to get his shit together and get his diploma, or his chance of patching in went out the window. Despite his frequent skipping of classes, he has maintained an unusually high gpa of 3.8 and is looking forward to starting his Senior year next year and finally being done with it. It’s a pretty good bet, if Rogan isn’t at school, home, or a party, he can be found at the Club’s headquarters and Vehicle repair shop where he works part time to help out at home with money.
My baby I just finished, Brianne is part of a facebook high school group rp. It’s open to anyone to join, if you would like to join feel free to contact Ryder @onemoresim or on his facebook profile here or contact me and I’ll let Ry know! It’s pretty laid back, all that he asks is that you actively participate, do a character profile like the one posted below and follow general rp guidelines. Creators must be at least 16 years of age to join. It is humans only and of course characters must be high school age between 16 and 19 years old. All characters are sims 3 based, most people just made young adults look teenish so if you hate dealing with sims 3 teens no worries there (I know I do!) You are free to interact within the facebook community, you don’t have to limit rp to just those in the group, the actual rp is set in Bar Harbor Maine a real town in name but fictionalized for the rp of course.
NAME: Brianne Keli Walsh
AGE:16
D.O.B: January 1,2001
SIBLINGS: None
PARENTS:Unknown John (Father) and Arlene Rose Walsh(Mother)
STATUS: High School Student.
SCARS, TATTOOS, PIERCINGS: Several tattoos on left thigh, left arm, chest, right arm, right fingers, and back. Piercings in right eyebrow, left nostril, and left tragus piercing.
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single
LIKES: fluffernutter sandwiches, any and every kind of animal, listening to Enigma with a good joint, parties, writing and reading.
DISLIKES: Do Gooders, authority in general, eggs of any kind, any meat in a loaf form, elves.
FACEBOOK PROFILE:
Brianna Walsh
ADDITIONAL INFO:
Left an orphan when she was 8, Brianne has been bounced from home to home. All that bouncing now has come to an abrupt stop as she is left at Bar Harbor Home for Children, a group home for the unadoptable, the trouble makers, the hard to handle, the one’s the system throw’s away, ran by Mrs. Abigail Winslow, a member in high standing at the local Baptist church, on the school board, a community member of very high standing in short.
What would you say we're defining moments in Kiara and Sandro's lives that affected their personalities?
For Alessandro (Sandro) it’s easy, being sent to prison when he was 18 really changed him, he basically came of age institutionalized and spent his entire young adult years behind bars, it’s what really put into perspective what was important, and really defined what kind of man he didn’t want to be..it also kind of gave him other influences outside his family which in an odd way was a good thing, broadened his perspective on life. For Kiara, you would think it was when she finally ran away from the home that had kept her as a slave since she had been kidnapped as a child, but in reality it was two other moments, when she finally got up the courage to go to the police despite how she had been drilled about how awful they would treat her, and how she would go to jail too, in that moment she discovered a bravery she didn’t know she had, and the second was going to college. Suddenly she realized she had an opportunity to not only make her life better, but maybe help make other’s lives better, to fight for people like she had been, people that live in shadows and have no voice.
Varsiy and Junior Varsity Cheer at the 2017 Cheer Retreat!
@uscrp
(Can’t remember all the tumblr’s to tag and I am at work!)