#Zelda darlington

[aheathen-conceivably]

Zelda was walking back to her own bedroom after preparing Violette for bed. It was rarer and rarer that she got to spend these moments with her daughter anymore. As she grew older it was more likely for her to ask her father to bring her to bed after an afternoon in the farmyard; or, as was her new habit, to insist on her independence by asserting that she could wrap up her own hair and tuck herself into her embroidered sheets alone.

So as Zelda turned the door handle and stepped over the threshold, the last thing she expected to hear was a small voice calling Momma from behind her. Immediately, Zelda turned around to see Violette with an uncharacteristic fear in her eyes. But she had grown quiet, so Zelda tried to prompt her to speak again by asking if everything was alright. When she didn't answer, Zelda walked nearer, trying to ignore the voice in her mind that told her maybe she had only imagined her daughter calling out after her.

As she sat on the bed, her repeated question only prompted another bout of silence, before Violette brought her knees up to her chest and spoke looking at them, "Momma, do you - do you ever have nights when you can’t sleep?”

A rush of memories distracted Zelda from the question, vivid sounds of waterfalls and the smell of trees in the damp morning air. She pushed them aside to speak to the child in front of her who knew nothing of those nights. “Of course, my love. Do you want to tell me what’s keeping you up? Are you afraid?”

Violette shook her head vigorously, “I’m not afraid. Of anything. It’s just..why’s it so quiet here? I try to sleep and there’s nothing. Back at home - I mean New Orleans, it was never quiet. When I would lie in bed I would just listen to you and Poppa and then I could always sleep.”

Zelda’s focus on keeping herself in the moment distracted her from her daughters accidental admittance that she still knew of her parent’s late night careers, or the way she still called New Orleans home. “You know when I was a girl I could never sleep. It was like the thoughts in my head wouldn’t quiet down on their own, especially when they were supposed to and everything else had gone silent, is that how you feel?”

When Violette nodded in agreement Zelda brought her hand to her face, “Do you mind if I go and grab something for you? I’ll only be gone a minute.”

For a moment Violette looked nervous but she signaled for her mother to go, only for Zelda to return a moment later with a book in her hand. She sat next to Violette and opened it, “This was my favorite growing up. It’s part of the reason I came here, to America, where I met your father. The girl reminds me an awful lot of you, so when you can’t sleep or your mind won’t quiet, you can go here, into a new world in your imagination for a little while.”

Violette eyes scanned the golden script of the title page intently. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Then she turned the page, and another, and another. It was unlike any other book she had ever seen. All of the words were set alongside pictures, fanciful drawings of a girl with her hair in pigtails as she walked alongside a proud lion and a shining man made of metal.

Zelda watched Violette’s fingers trace along the words, exactly where her own had hundreds of times before. Knowing that her daughter was already gone yet again, she looked down at her a bit sadly, “And if you still can’t sleep just come find me or your Poppa, okay? We’re right next door.”

But Violette was too engrossed in the colorful drawings to answer, so Zelda rose to her feet and walked back to her own room where she had always kept the book near her pillow before that night.

Night after night as she read it, Violette never took her mother up on her offer, although she still rarely slept. Rather she laid in bed reading and rereading the book her mother had given her and imagining that she was Dorothy, swept up in something so powerful and grand that it turned everything upside down and suddenly she was in a land of magic and fantasy.

Then finally, somewhere between the pages, she would drift off into a dream-filled sleep. Through the corridors of slumber she would walk amongst a city just like Oz, one that was never quiet or dark like the desert outside her window. Each and every corner was filled with beauty and life, luminous with people who danced and sang more magnificently than anyone could ever imagine.

The lights there twinkled even more brightly than the night sky ever did; and in her mind she would stand between them, halfway between the ground below and the sky above, shining more dazzlingly than either. It was a place made just for her, one where all her dreams would come true. A land of fantasy and wonder and endless lights shining just for her in the darkness…

#1933 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Zelda darlington #Violette darlington

[darlingtons-after-dark]

Happy birthday, baby…

(Extended from this post)

#and a happy love day to you 😌 #sims spice #sim spice #year: 1932 #darlingtons after dark #Antoine and Zelda #Antoine #Zelda

[vintagesimstress]

Zelda's 1925 Wedding Dress

Happy New Year everyone!

I woke up today and thought that a beginning of a new year is a good moment to finally release this dress, which has been sitting in my WIPs forever. Something new for a change: a wedding gown inspired by a rl one from 1925. It was originally made extra for Zelda Darlington from @aheathen-conceivably's Darlington Legacy, hence the name - and Heathen was so kind to let me release it to public. So here you go!

As always: Base Game compatible, HQ compatible, properly tagged, custom thumbnails, chronological CAS positioning, specular, bump maps etc. Comes in 2 versions: with and without train; you can use both.

Only one swatch this time, sorry! Feel free to recolour.

Warning: compared to my usual pieces this one is extremely high poly. Slightly over 30K (!!!). Or slightly below for the no-train version. The main culprit is this little beauty:

You know your own PCs and their capacities best. Use with caution.

(A little behind the scenes comment: this dress was also me experimenting with so-called 'blender sewing', which is a very different cc-making method than my usual one. Therefore, as you might see, the result also looks different from my usual style. Much more alpha. I absolutely don't hate it, but I guess some people might, whoops).

For more in-game photos, check the post with Zelda's wedding on Heathen's tumblr!

I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!

DOWNLOAD (free on Patreon, no ads or EA)

PS. That model I used is not the real Zelda. I just tried recreating her and then stole her for my own legacy 😎

#ts4cc #adultfemale #wedding gown #wedding dress #1920s #1920s sims

[thebramblewood]

🎃 🍬Halloween Tag: Dress up your Sim like another Simblr's character. Pass it on! 🎃 🍬

Here's Helena inspired by @aheathen-conceivably's Zelda Darlington! I won't say dressed up as because I don't want to open myself to scrutiny over complete period or character accuracy. 😅 1920s fashion has always been a favorite of mine, and I love Alexis' posts from this era - such detail!

@adoringsentiment and @lynzishell, thank you so much for also sending me this prompt! I'm holding onto your asks in case the mood strikes to do this again before the month is out.

#asks #i would have done lilith but i might have bigger plans re: flapper fashion for her... #which might be the reason i was starting to collect it in the first place #no promises though #ask game #cas creations #the zhaoverse #helena zhao

[kindred-sims]

List 3 of your favorite sims from other simmers you enjoy and explain why (Send this to 10 other blogs 💖💖)

Hello!

This was actually kind of tricky because I'm incredibly indecisive, but I believe I narrowed it down pretty well!

- Zelda Darlington from @aheathen-conceivably 's Darlington Legacy.

- Violet Sewell from @antiquatedplumbobs Sewell Legacy

- Daisy Weston from @pixelnrd 's Langston Legacy

Honestly, I don't have overly specific reasons as to why I love them, I just think all their stories are equally investing and are good reads!

#asks #answered

[moonfromearth]

List 3 of your favorite sims from other simmers you enjoy and explain why (Send this to 10 other blogs 💖💖)

omg thank you sooo much for this ask it was so hard to narrow it down to just three!! Honestly my favorites change so often because I have so many it's a constant rotation on who gets to be in the top spots 😆

Anyway, my current pics would be...

Poppy Belanger by @panicsimss - I am loving her story so much and I think she's such an interesting character that I'm excited to see more of and her backstory is so tragic it definitely had me feeling ~emotions~ which is always good in a story I think.

Helena Zhao by @charmingmushroom - Okay all the posts for Helena Zhao is Dead have been so pretty and I love the balance of gameplay and posed shots it's honestly how I personally like to put together posts so it's so inspiring, but the lead herself is definitely so captivating to me and I love seeing her journey and the buildup to how she, well, died (also makes me want to work on some benched vampire sims' stories...).

Zelda Darlington by @aheathen-conceivably - There are not enough words to describe how much I love all of the Darlingtons, but Zelda's story has just taken on an amazing level of depth from her leaving her family and home to her adventures in New Orleans it's all just so beautiful and I've loved seeing her development I will cry when her generation is over as excited as I am to see where the story will go.

Aaaand I'll cheat add a bonus for favorite Harper (because I could have a whole other list for them)... I think my favorite is still Leo but Maria is climbing the list suuper fast I've really loved her gen and I hope there's some way to bring her back from the dead because I can't 😭😭

#sorry this got a little long but i had too much fun!! #i just had coffee so i'm in a rambling mood #😅 #ask #answered #tw death mention

[igotsnothing]

It’s the month of love! Tell us three of your favourite couples from other simmers & why you love them. Then share this ask to the inbox of at least three other blogs you enjoy. Let’s spread a little love around! 🌈

Ok! Sorry for the delay in answering this ask, friend of mystery! I have many stories/couples I follow here. Since I have to narrow them down to three, here we go:

@aheathen-conceivably's Darlington Legacy is just lovely. I mean, historical simblrs floor me because if telling a story is already tricky, telling a historical one takes it to a whole new level of commitment and dedication. And Zelda and Antoine are just lovely and touching. I love them and their deep and layered love story.

@alinelie's Graham Ventura and Ledger Gowers. Also Victor Adler and Kian Micelli. Aline has a way of portraying such longing and affection in her images. It's not just that the characters are good-looking and the surroundings are tastefully composed- it's that there is a lovely tension and depth to each scene.

@duusheen's Leif and Daphne. Their love story is so charming and watching them build a sim life together is so sweet. It makes me want to stop screwing around with vampires for five seconds and play my poor little abandoned legacy so I, too, can have the pleasure of watching my sims grow and build a life with someone they love. It honestly got me in the feels to see one of the first panels where Leif and Daphne looked older and were surrounded by their kids (one more on the way!)- all their kids having their father's devastatingly beautiful eyes.

These are some of my faves, but not the only ones. Everyone I am following should know I am enjoying their sims and stories for realz. ❤️

#answered asks #favorite couples #i love them all #mysterious frens #talented people #also: i am trash at legacies #remember finn? #ME NEITHER #omg #I troll my own ocs #i love my moots

[jazzytrait]

3, 15, 25 for the ask game!

Thanks for the ask! 👽

3. what is your favorite challenge? Oh, Watcher.... hmmm... There's so many really cool ones out there, but I guess so far the Sour challenge has been the most fun for me because I started with an empty lot, §100 and a guitar. So, my runaway teen founder was initially sleeping on a sofa at the ThrifTea and playing for tips to get food out of the vending machine lol. 15. who is your current favorite sim that is not by you? Probably Zelda Darlington by @aheathen-conceivably She's so much fun to read about and the cast of characters in the Darlington legacy is phenomenal. I would never have the patience to go that hard with the historical settings. Mad props. 25. how many hours have you played sims?

I hang my head in shame.

Ask a question!

#ask game

[marvelman901]

Princess Python by Keith Pollard (1991) Zelda DuBois #marvel #supervillain #princess #python #princesspython #circus #circusofcrime #90s #keithpollard #darlington #southcarolina #serpent #serpentsociety #serpentsquad #spiderman https://www.instagram.com/p/CC7VNt1h5a1/?igshid=lvfb5mn1w8iq

#marvel #supervillain #princess #python #princesspython #circus #circusofcrime #90s #keithpollard #darlington #southcarolina #serpent #serpentsociety #serpentsquad #spiderman

[desertislandcloud]

MOODBAY are producer-songwriter Alfie Cattell and vocalist-songwriter Anna Stephens. They are based in the North East, UK. Their unusual shade of electropop incorporates a range of genres from R&B to Classical - the duo describe their sound as ‘mood pop’. 

They got together in 2017, after meeting in the corridor of BIMM music school in Manchester. Before Manchester, Anna moved from her home in Darlington to Paris, where she worked at a magazine house. She spent most her time scribbling down poetry at her office desk and staying out late. While completing her French studies in Oxford, she started to put her words to a piano. 

Alfie also started out on piano, and it remains his favourite instrument. He is a self-taught musician, who grew up in North Wales, recreating Zelda tunes on a dusty Yamaha keyboard, in between blue WKD’s and listening to Radiohead. He has honed his studio skills in Moodbay and now produces the edgy sounds that drive Anna’s vocals along. 

Sounds like: Chvrches, Purity Ring The new single from Moodbay is 'Alone' - which has already been picked up by Bob Fischer at BBC Introducing Tees. ​ Moodbay's debut release 'Listen Up' has been well received at radio, which included winning an Amazing Radio listener poll. BBC's Janice Long called the track a 'startling debut' and that it 'leapt out and said play me, play me.' 

The single has been added to over 200 independent Spotify playlists and has taken Moodbay's monthly listeners to figure from 12 (!) to over 15,000 in just a few weeks following the release. There are two mixes by Moodbay; the original chilled mix and the Dark House remix, which has been a hit in the clubs, with a 75% DJ approval rating via Power Promotions (Calvin Harris, Clean Bandit etc), and it is currently at number 10 in the official Music Week Club Chart.)

Links https://www.moodbay.com https://www.youtube.com/moodbay https://www.facebook.com/moodbay https://www.instagram.com/moodbaymusic https://twitter.com/moodbay

#SoundCloud #music #Moodbay #electro #electronic #pop #Electro

[aheathen-conceivably]

Part of Zelda loved the last few years of their lives. At its simplest, it reminded her of being in England again, of standing in the fields with her father and making every recipe from scratch with her mother. Life felt warmer here than it had in New Orleans, calmer and quieter and more akin to something she had envisioned for herself. 

Of course there was pain as well, backbreaking constant pain and endless drudgery. Sometimes it reminded her of how much she liked standing in a crowded cafe or club and feeling everyone’s energy come together in one tumultuous surge. Compared to that, it often felt like she had only known two extremes in her life, and she had swung between the two without ever really finding herself in the middle. 

Then there was the desperation, constantly turning and monitoring the soil, adding any and every shell or skin she could spare, and hauling countless buckets of water from the nearby stream. It was knowing that living or dying fell upon your back and the roof over everyone’s heads relied on your efforts. But in doing so it sometimes felt like a spirit overtook one, one that actually understood her purpose and called her Little Robin on even his darkest days.

Only recently the desperation had taken on a new tone, one independent of Gio’s debts or her child’s hunger. One that even her father wouldn’t have understood. It was her burden, and her burden alone, seen and shared by Antoine but really only felt by her. Because she could till this soil; she could monitor it and will the crops to grow as though through sheer willpower and knowledge alone. Only she couldn’t do the same for herself. 

Because at least this seemingly barren soil was growing something. There was life and hope in it, fully grown plants and crops on the edge of being harvested. She had poured her soul into it, and it had responded in turn. She needed them to grow, not only for the reasons everyone else did, but because she couldn’t seem to grow anything within herself.

She was walking the fields, picking away dead leaves and checking under each one for bugs when she saw it: a sapphire glittering amidst the greenery in the ever-present sunshine. She reached forward slowly, moving each leaf aside hesitantly as though half expecting to look down and see yet another dashed hope that had existed only for a moment.

But then she bent down into the soil and it was real: a perfectly grown ear of corn. Untouched by bugs or drought or heat. She had done it. It had grown. In an inaudible whisper she called out to Gio across the farmyard. Realizing that he was probably preoccupied still trying to dig out their well she called out again, and again, until her amazed voice finally rose to an audible volume.

He rounded the fence, his eyes filled with apprehension that another bud had been eaten in the night or the leaves inexplicably wilting. Instead he saw Zelda standing there, an ear of corn in her hand and a smile on her face. 

He immediately threw his shovel into the dirt and ran toward her, “We did it, Zelda! We really fucking did it!” For a moment he just held her in shared amazement, and Zelda could swear that he was going to cry. All of his emotions poured out onto her so that she could feel he had no way to contain his gratitude, until he picked her up and swung her amidst the tall verdant plants growing all around them, “Jesus Christ who am I kidding, you did it! This farm…it, I was nothing until you got here, until you made all this happen!”

Zelda let herself be swept off her feet, lost in his characteristically infectious joy. Because he didn’t know why she had worked so hard on these fields, or that she often walked the rows thinking of them in relation to herself. He only knew she had given him something, everything he seemed to dream of in that moment, and that together they had actually done it. They had made life grow from nothing.

Across the farmyard, Josephine watched them, and a small fire started in her heart. With a jolt she realized that this was what jealousy must feel like. She had never given a fuck about who Gio or any of her partners had danced or laughed or flirted with, so long as she knew and they didn’t use it against her when the time came. But it couldn’t be, not here, not now. Not her. 

This was Zelda. Her best friend, her sister. They worked and lived there together day in and day out, but then he set her on the ground and her laughter rang out through the farmyard, and Josephine realized that it was her. It was the joy she and Gio shared over a goddamn ear of corn. One single ear of corn. It was as infuriating as all of life was here, because it didn’t feel like living at all. It felt like a constant game of survival that transformed your life into a series of meaningless tasks without purpose or delineation rather than something that was actually yours to live.

Because life here wasn’t simpler for Josephine the way it was for Zelda. There was nothing nostalgic or calming about it. No sound of her father’s voice to guide her through the pain or personal drive tying her to the constant, backbreaking work. She tried, every goddamn day she tried, just like she promised Giorgio and herself that she would; but it felt like the land itself was draining her soul bit by bit.

Yet here was Zelda, who seemed like some sort of old world fertility goddess standing amongst the plants she had grown from soil that wouldn’t yield for anyone else. For years, she had done nothing but give and give as she worked alongside Giorgio to make his damn dream come true, all the while thoughts of running away continued to plague Josephine in the night. Zelda had poured her soul into the desolate land to make it grow. Josephine dreamed of setting it on fire. 

Jesus, she didn’t want to. She wanted to fall onto the orange sands of Strangerville and somehow sprout into the perfect farm wife too. That’s why she was jealous. She wanted to be that happy when a single goddamn ear of corn had grown, to share in the simple joy of the man she loved over something she couldn’t help but find infuriating. It seemed like he was happy because he had someone to share that joy with now, someone who could make his dreams come true and give him all of herself so totally. It made her think that maybe the problem was her; she had simply not given enough of herself to be happy. But she didn’t quite know how.

#1932 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Zelda darlington #Josephine Duplanchier #Giorgio Mistretta

[aheathen-conceivably]

Antoine now found his days consumed by music coming from the depths of his mind. Nearly every minute he could see piano compositions in front of his eyes, assemblages of notes that he had been suppressing without anywhere to play them. He could feel his fingers move to their arrangements even as he tried to work, knowing as if by muscle memory the keys he would need to bring them to life.

Only he didn't have his beloved piano, the one he could have sat before and effortlessly opened his mind so that the notes flowed through his arms down into soundwaves to fill a room. He only had a guitar, which had set his mind ablaze but still seemed like a familiar puzzle he didn't quite have a map for. So without any teachers or instructional books, he spent every second he could with what was now his guitar, wordlessly transforming the notes he knew as piano compositions onto a new instrument by ear.

Zelda’s moments of rest were even fewer than Antoine’s. There was no differentiation between work and home as she tried to balance the endless array of chores with Josephine and poured her hours into the soil with Giorgio. Even still, in between her moments of work she would stop to watch him play.

She knew that he would stop if she only asked, but her presence was never enough to take his attention away from the instrument that was now his constant companion. The only thing that truly seemed to draw him from its orbit was the approaching sound of Violette’s footsteps as she returned from the schoolhouse and recklessly hopped the fence to get to her father faster.

There was nothing she loved more than returning home to find her father already there after a day at Hines ranch. She would draw him to his feet with the promise of teaching her new dance steps or playing the latest notes he had learned. Only Zelda’s reminder that there was homework to be done or chores to be completed would bring either of them back to reality and draw a half-hearted admonishment from Antoine that Violette must always listen to her mother.

Still her olive eyes flickered back and forth between them, trying to find the weakest link to focus her attention on so that she wouldn’t have to do as she was told. Only the promise that if she completed her chores fast enough she could come back outside seemed to work, and then she would scurry off inside the house with the sound of the guitar still echoing in her ears.

Usually the sun was still up when she emerged back outside to find her father; but it had begun to sink lower, coloring the sky with atmosphere that seemed painted just for them. Then he would play as she danced, the notes more whimsical and upbeat than they had been all day, until Zelda’s never ending list of tasks had been completed.

By then, the sinking sun had begun to shine directly on their faces as Violette seemed to finally grow tired, fighting lidded eyes so that she could watch her father’s hands on the strings of the guitar as she committed them to memory. Little by little she learned to play as he did, matching notes to hand position and listening to the subsequent pitch changes in her mother’s voice as she often sang along; until finally, the afternoon would overwhelm her and she couldn’t fight her sleep any longer.

Then, Antoine would carry her up the stairs to the little room at the corner of the farmhouse that captured the last vestiges of desert light. She would always remember it filtering through the lace curtains of the windows as she weightlessly moved through the house, trusting his every step and wondering if her mother was still singing downstairs, or if she could merely hear her voice echoing in the halls of her dreams before her head even hit the pillow.

So day after day they got ever so slightly older, ending each night much the same as the one before and knowing that in the morning, the sun would invariably rise in the clear desert sky just as it had that day. It wasn’t as though life was perfect, far from it. Age and hardship had made their proclivities toward ignoring the struggles around them all the more difficult to maintain, but at least when there was music and one another, none of it seemed quite so important.

#1933 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Zelda darlington #Antoine Duplanchier #Violette darlington

[aheathen-conceivably]

The wooden floorboards in the hallway that connected Zelda and Antoine’s bedroom to Violette’s slowly grew more worn with time. On some nights it was Zelda’s feet that walked back and forth over them as Antoine got to spend a few moments alone with his guitar; on other’s it was Antoine’s as Zelda read a few pages of a book between her hours of work and sleep.

On that night it was Zelda’s steps that echoed down the hall. Before she even opened the door she knew that the sounds of guitar awaited her; but not even that could make her feel better, so she didn’t bother to look at Antoine as she entered the room. Instead she walked straight to the vanity and reached for the zipper between her shoulder blades. As she struggled with it Antoine spoke behind her, “Is she asleep?

His playing hadn’t stopped, because his months of practice had already made it so that he could easily speak without ever missing a note, just the way he could at the piano. Despite herself, Zelda let out a small laugh with her answer, “No. She acted like she is, but I know the second I closed the door she opened that book again.”

His voice kept coming, unbroken alongside the music when all she wanted was silence, “There are worse rules to break. I would wager a bet you were much the same with it when you were young.”

Zelda kept her eyes on her reflection as she gave up trying to unclasp her zipper, instead redirecting her fumbling hands to her earrings. She offered Antoine nothing but a terse nod in response, but the void of her silent answer was quickly filled with the vibrations of guitar strings. As her earring back refused to budge she turned away, retreating into the cold silence of their bathroom to undress alone.

When she emerged the room had grown quiet, the guitar neatly set against the opposite wall and far out of reach. Antoine was on the edge of the bed, looking at her intently. She looked back at him, wondering how she could deflect the pain that she knew he had detected. Before she could think of anything he spoke, asking her what the matter was. Her hands fluttered as she avoided his gaze,  “Nothing, it's - it's the corn. It’s not growing as well as last year, no matter how I try.”

But he wasn’t fooled, and when he said her name, it was filled with an honest imploration simply to talk to him. She started to spiral, because she knew that the moment she spoke, she would reopen the wound that they had both been trying to ignore for months. But again, he said her name, this time even calmer and softer than the first time. Another half dozen lies went through her head, but each of them seemed like a paltry waste of energy; so instead, she sat beside him.

“Zelda, I know it's not the corn. I know your face. Don’t lie to me.”

He’s here, telling him won’t jeopardize that. You know that. You know. “It’s just - it’s just in those brief moments when she opens up to me, when she’s kind and excited to be around me, I realize just how much more she likes you, how much more she likes Josephine…”

His hand immediately went for hers, a tangible guilt driving his touch that she had been fiercely trying to avoid, “Don’t say that. It's not true, you know it's not true.”

“No, no. It’s fine, it is true,” she tried to brush it off, to look at their hands and stop herself before her words went too far, “I suppose it’s only natural. I was more like my father. It just makes me wonder, makes me think if we had another, maybe they’d be more like me, maybe they’d…”

But she had already done it, and she knew it. She had shattered whatever tenuous peace they had found in their untenable solution to preventing any more disappointments. She dropped his hand and tried to move away, but his arms immediately went around her. “Zelda, we can try again. We can try all you want. I didn’t want to push you, to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, I know. I’m — I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to be disappointed anymore. If we didn’t — then I wouldn’t — then at least I would know there was no chance. I should have told you…”

With the words spoken it was easier to let him pull her closer. Immediately the guard she had so carefully constructed crumbled, “Please don’t apologize, please. You didn’t need to explain. I knew. I understood.”

Half of her was crying with relief as he pulled her back onto the bed against his chest. They had never consciously decided to cut out this part of their relationship, only drawn an inevitable link between the pain that wouldn’t stop coming and any sort of intimacy that wasn’t purely domestic and mundane. It had become a way of doing what they did best, ignoring the problem until it became a problem itself. Only then it was even harder to tell him why, because as the physical distance grew between them, so did the emotional one.

So now, both seemed to unravel together, the spoken words lifting the wall that had risen and seemed impossible to break through before. As his hand traced along her face, it became easier to speak too, “I just…I don’t want to try anymore. I don’t want to plan it or time it or think about it. I just want us to go back to the way that we were when we first got here. I just want it to be about us again.”

He looped his arm around her shoulder and her entire body responded to the movement, letting go of it’s tension and relaxing into every point where their bodies met. He sensed her movement and tightened his grip, “Then we don’t have to, my love. It can be what you want it to be, okay? If it’s meant to happen, it will happen. We don’t have to worry beyond that any more than you want to.”

She reached over to take his face in both of her hands as she leaned over onto him. Then she kissed him, truly kissed him, for the first time in months. If it’s meant to happen, it will happen.

#1933 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Zelda darlington #Antoine Duplanchier

[aheathen-conceivably]

A new year began with fresh crops sown into the dry ground of Strangerville. After months of irrigation and soil monitoring, Zelda had expected this harvest to spring to life much more easily than the first. Only compared to the dark ground of England, which had always seemed to come back to life after the spring rain, life here seemed utterly unwilling to offer any help to the people struggling to get by, even as their next batch of crops sprung tenuously from the ground.

As she worked on them day after day, Zelda tried to listen for her father’s voice as she once did, only the cacophony coming from her own mind just kept growing louder. It’s barren. The soil is barren. Just stop trying, there’s no point. Just give up. But she couldn’t. Not for herself or Gio or her family. She had to keep tilling, even if every movement was heavier than the last. Each month as the small plants struggled to grow again, the voice grew louder, until it was hard to remember what all this work was for or that she had succeeded once before.

Zelda bent down into the compacted sand, reaching for a weed as she tried to throw herself into the work and quiet her mind. But the dry brown leaves were so unlike the verdant green stems of months before that the voice in her mind grew even more desperate. Just because it happened once doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again. Sometimes that’s all it has to give. Sometimes there’s nothing left. Just give up.

A voice calling her name somewhere from the driveway tried to break through her reveries, but she was lost in the rocky soil as it ran through her fingers back over the dry plants, Just give up. Isn’t she enough? He loves her. You love her. Just give up, be happy. 

“Zelda!” She lifted her eyes to see Gio at the fence, a large smile on his face as he waved his hands excitedly. She stood and brushed the soil from her hands but not the thoughts from her mind as she moved to follow him across the yard.

His steps were filled with purpose and vigor as he walked through the farmyard, calling out to Jo as he passed the house. She emerged with tired, disinterested eyes just as he reached the bed of his truck, lifting up a wooden box he had there and parading it through the farmyard proudly.

Under the watchful eyes of two exhausted woman, he set the crate down onto the ground as though it were more precious than gold. Moments later two hens walked out into the orange sand, their white feathers gleaming against it brightly. Zelda gasped and clapped her hands, the sheer sight of hope quieting her mind temporarily. But from the shadowed safety of the porch, Jo looked down at their devilish eyes and murderous claws with disdain, “A chicken, Gio? Where in the hell did that come from?”

Gio was seemingly unaffected by her aversion, “Chickens, Jo, chickens! I mean hell, we’ve lucked out now, you know that? I was down at the feed store, when I got to talking to a family who’s about to head West on the route. They were worried about takin’ them since they couldn’t feed ‘em but it’s not like killin’ them woulda done any good either. Then I remembered all those jars and preserves the both of you made…”

As he went on it about how he had negotiated both of the chickens in exchange for bushels of dried corn and jarred peppers, it became clearer to Jo what a victory this was not only for them, but for him. He had brought this home like a prize won for them, a small contribution to give their lives ease. She felt her hatred of the hideous creatures begin to shift in favor of love for him, only for him to look back at Zelda and then at her, “But none of it would have been possible without either of you and all your work.”

What was left of her desire to walk away and ignore the sight before her melted at the gratitude in his voice, and she finally left the recess of the porch to walk to him. For a moment she looked up at him, forgetting that Zelda was there as she let him wait for some form of praise from her. Then a small smirk broke through her unreadable expression and she pointed over his shoulder, “I do adore them, so long as I’m not the one to tend to their beady little eyes.”

Gio responded with a wide smile, and for a moment Zelda was distracted by the way they looked at one another as they laughed, so familiar and laden with meaning that it made her wistful; but then the glimmer of white feathers caught her eye yet again. The chickens pecking at the dry ground didn’t look like prehistoric horrors to her. They looked like hope, like her mother’s prized flock or mornings without hunger. Maybe even birthday cakes for her daughter.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Violette herself, who stormed out of the house like a tornado at the first whiff of novel hubbub outside her window. She saw the chickens walking in the sand and gasped, excited by their quick movements and new presence. “Are they ours, Momma? Can I play with them?”

Before Zelda could say a word Violette ran forward, as unafraid as any farm child but without any of the knowledge that Zelda and her siblings had possessed in their youth. Zelda felt the paralyzing wave of anxiety that she always did when she was meant to discipline Violette. She needed to tell her to stop, to show her how to handle the chickens properly and not to be so dangerously brash. Only she couldn’t seem to find the words, and part of her knew that even if she did, Violette would ignore them anyway.

But before she could even take a step, Jo was in Violette’s path. Whatever aversion she had for the small creatures moments before was now gone as she stepped between them and the brash child threatening to pick them up and be scratched bloody by their overexcited claws. Violette looked around her aunt’s legs wondering if she could make a run for it, but Josephine’s stern glare was enough to stop her from even trying.

Zelda watched them as Jo shut down all of Violette’s attempts to bargain with her, the same coy looks and innocent smiles that worked on her father and she didn’t even bother using on her mother. Finally, defeated, Violette let Josephine grab her hand to guide her after the chickens to watch them from a distance. Before they walked away, Josephine looked back to Zelda as though to say, I’ve got her. Don’t worry.

Zelda returned her wordless reassurance with a grateful smile, one less fear on her mind as the lifeless soil called. Because she had to keep trying, just as much for herself as everyone else. Only it was a bit easier now knowing that Jo was there, that she wasn’t alone in raising Violette and that both of them were in this life trying in their own way. Even if they didn’t fully understand exactly what the other was struggling toward, at least they had that.

#1933 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Zelda darlington #Josephine Duplanchier #Giorgio Mistretta #Violette darlington

[aheathen-conceivably]

“Good morning, birthday boy.”

Both Antoine and Zelda were now well used to rising at sunrise, so the words hadn’t woken him; but they did pull him out of the nebulous ether between sleep and wakefulness, so he moved closer to the woman curled around his back, “Oh, is that today?”

“Don’t play coy with me. That’s my job.”

Her hand wrapped around his waist, down his chest and to his drawstring, “I’m an old man now, my love, how could you possibly want someone with such wrinkles? I do believe I even found a gray hair yesterday.” A light laugh sounded in his ear, prompting him to turn and face her, “You can be so dramatic for a stoic. Thirty-six is not old.”

It was getting harder to answer her, to keep his tone measured as one of her hands wrapped around his neck and the other grazed up and down his arm. He brought his hand to her thigh, just below the lace of her silk shorts, “Oh you don’t believe me, do you? You should have heard the creak my knee made yesterday. I think it even scared off one of the horses.”

This time she did laugh aloud, shaking his hand off her thigh by throwing her leg onto the other side of his waist and sinking her weight down onto him. Her tone was as close to mocking as it ever came, “Yet not a peep from mine. Thank God at least one of us is still young enough for this.”

“Oh you’ll see one day, young lady. It’s tough to get old…” But by that point he had all but given up trying to speak without his voice descending into sighs. Her lips were trailing down his stomach, just slowly enough to answer him with a smile he had to look down to catch, “Sounds terrible. You poor thing. I suppose I’ll have to take care of you from now on, won’t I?”

Antoine took another glance out the window, where the day had already somehow grown brighter than he realized; but still he didn’t hurry Zelda with the last of his buttons. She caught his glance and finished the final one, “Don’t worry. You’ll barely be late.”

He pulled her close to him before grabbing his hat from the hook on the wall, “I know. And Mabel’s bakin’ a cake for lunch, so I doubt it’ll be much of a hard day.”

“Oh, so you did know.”

“You don’t have a market on coy, my dear.” He pulled his arm away and returned her wide smile, placing the hat on his head before grabbing her hand one final time, “How ‘bout you bring Violette over after you and Gio finish up work? She can have some cake and you and Mabel can enjoy yourselves.”

She answered with a quick kiss before turning to dress in her own work clothes, “Sounds great, old man.”

After their morning tasks, Antoine was standing in the stables with Silver. Before his daughter got there or he got another minute older, there was one thing he knew he wanted to do; and if he didn’t have the confidence to do it today he knew he never would. 

She had been friendly with him for weeks now, and he kept hearing Abe’s words in his mind tempting him like a daydream, “You get her to let you ride her and you’re welcome to, anytime you like.” Only she wasn’t some trained horse, she was wild and distrustful. Sometimes her nostrils still flared menacingly in his presence and he thought that maybe, despite all their time together, she still even hated him. But as he ran his hand along her shining black coat, she blinked slowly, trustingly, and he knew that it was the day.

He went to the front of the barn, where he grabbed the riding gear that had sat tempting him every day. First he set the blanket atop her, then the saddle. He stopped periodically as he adjusted it, listening and looking for any sign of her anger, but she stayed patient with him each step. Finally he placed the bridle on her face and buckled the strap in front of her chest. It was like she understood that the movement had fully encircled her in some sort of trap, and she kicked her legs angrily as her eyes went dark.

Any other day he might have walked away, or undone the buckle around her chest, but today he knelt down in front of her so he could look her in the eyes. “Hey old girl, hey,” the words were half spoken, half whistled, “it’s me, okay? Just me. You can trust me.”

Her kicking stopped and her eyes seemed to settle on him, blinking slower and slower as he ran his hand along the side of her neck.

He walked beside her, letting out a shaky breath and putting a hand on her thigh. Alright, Antoine. Now or never. Don’t think about her throwing you in the sand. Don’t think about her breaking your back with one kick. He grabbed onto the horn and hoisted himself up onto the saddle. In the movement his knee let out a low creak and he laughed aloud, louder than he intended to, “Old man.”

Only his voice seemed to stir something in Silver, and she immediately turned to trot out of the stables. He grabbed the reins immediately and went over everything Abe had told him. Don’t pull too tightly. Stay calm. Your feet matter just as much as your hands. Talk to them with every move you make. Stay fucking calm.

Out in the desert sunshine, he passed Abe in his favorite spot next to the fire where he had sat to eat his cake. Antoine didn’t dare fully turn to face him, but out of the corner of his eye he could see his eyebrows raised impressively and a small approving smile on his face.

The closer they got to the edge of the farmyard, the more Silver seemed to remember exactly what she was doing, and perhaps even exactly where she was going. Her feet moved slowly at first, and then faster and faster as Antoine’s guidance grew more comfortable and confident. As the hills opened up and the flowers parted for them, it was like he forgot to be afraid or to wish that this moment was everything he had ever dreamed of, simply because it was.

#alert alert Antoine is now an adult #did I give him the most subtle wrinkles possible because I’m having an existential crisis about it? #…..maybe #but he’s back baby Yeehaw Antoine is BACK #1932 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Antoine Duplanchier #Zelda darlington #Abraham Hines #sim spice

[aheathen-conceivably]

Zelda took a deep breath and stared at the cracked tile on the other side of the wall. It had been witness to every one of her reactions this past year, quietly watching as she tried to sort out her emotions at the end of each month. She and Antoine had taken so many precautions in New Orleans after Violette was born, that she had assumed the moment they stopped it would be as serendipitous as it had been for Violette. 

At first, it had simply been that neither of them seemed willing to resume their careful habits. Then, gradually, it dawned on her that perhaps it was purposeful for them both, that they had mutually and almost telepathically realized they were ready. But still she sat here each month, sometimes like clockwork, but other times just late enough to allow them to think, this is the time.

But then she would inevitably look down to a sight she already half expected to see, telling herself the same thing that the crack in the wall had heard a dozen times before: You always said you didn’t want anymore. Even now do you, truly? Life is so quiet again, so peaceful and stable. You don’t want that to end.

But the undeniable wave of disappointment that washed over her, this time even stronger than the last, told her what she already knew. She was lying on to herself.

She washed her hands and stepped out of the bathroom. Antoine bolted to his feet and she kept her gaze on the ground before she looked back up to him with lidded, tear rimmed eyes. That one look was all he needed to know what had happened. Immediately her posture crumpled as his footsteps came nearer and he put his arms around her.

He knew by now to bring her head down to his shoulder so that she could cry in peace without anyone’s eyes on her, even his. With very slow movements, he ran his hand over her hair again and again, until her silent tears became loud sobs and then finally subsided back down into steady breathing.

Convinced that her tears had quieted, Zelda finally pulled her face away from Antoine’s shoulder; still, she kept her eyes squarely on his tear stained robe. “You’re disappointed, aren’t you? I don’t — I don’t understand why I can’t. It was easy the first time, easy for my mother…” Her voice trailed off as her tears resumed, threatening to drown out each word in a sob, "Is it me? Is there something wrong with me? Am I broken?”

“Zelda, look at me.” She did as he asked, but only because his voice had taken on a commanding tone he rarely used in her presence, “there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. You could never disappoint me, because I am perfectly happy with what we have, forever and always.”

His answer had been too perfect, too cloaked in love to really abate what she needed to know. “But you want more, don’t you? More I can’t give you?”

Cognizant that her eyes had begun to grow glassy again, he moved his hand from her face back onto her hair and spoke very carefully, “I…of course I want more, my love. I want as many children with you as we can be blessed with, as many little faces with your eyes and your smile that we can dream of; but I am happy. More gloriously, deliriously happy than I ever could have imagined with exactly how our family is now.”

Her eyes began to cry once more, this time just as much in love and gratitude as in disappointment, and she tried to bury her face in his shoulder again. Instead Antoine wrapped his hands around her chin and gently angled her face toward his own. “You believe me, right? You know that I’ll be happy no matter what? That you are not broken and there is nothing you can’t give me.”

She looked straight into his eyes and nodded her head yes. He smiled and brought his lips to her forehead before lowering her head back onto his shoulder again, this time without a single tear.

#1932 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #1930s #Zelda darlington #Antoine Duplanchier