🖤CHOCOLATE SET-469 BD1242 & BD1243 🖤
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between the pines | goodbye, echo canyon 1.2
with echo canyon miles behind them, miguel and jacki surprised their little sister, ines with an impromptu road trip choosing to the take the scenic route to silent pines and join the rest of their family there. as the sun began the set, jacki flagged a motel off the nearest exit and miguel pulled into the parking lot. ines quickly grabbed her camcorder to take a video of the sign that read 'welcome to rattler's gulch'...
So wanted to lean more into the lore of Sim Nation so built out this idea that the older siblings made a road trip of the big move to Silent Pines with the first stop being 'rattler's gulch'. I decided to change all the names of the worlds to better fit with silent pines. Next stop is oasis springs aka eclipse...
P.S. I'm never filling up a truck with boxes again...it looks cute and realistic BUT I basically had to save it as room for me to drop in each new lot I move the car to...smh...still doing too much...
P.S.S. Shout out to @utopya-cc for this amazing sims world map that helped me figure out road trip stops!
-d.
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🎶 I gave him my heart, but he wanted my soul 🎶
It was just after sunrise and Josephine was in the kitchen, a sunbeam warming her hands as they worked. She had woken early to take care of the chickens. Their tiny, prehistoric beaks and beady eyes still repulsed her, but at least it was easier than tilling soil or scrubbing clothes.
Over and over again she folded the dough that Zelda had taught her how to make. A perfectly baked loaf already sat before her as she worked on another. My mother’s recipe, Zelda had said nostalgically as she recited it from the depths of her memory. These years with Zelda had been full of moments like that, ones where you could practically feel the domestic warmth radiating from her memories as she spoke of them.
A small, bitter laugh escaped Jo's lips. For all she may still love her mother, the closest thing Delphine ever had to a recipe was how to bat your eyelashes to earn enough money to pay someone else to make your bread. Josephine had thought that if only she could learn how to make it herself now, that she would finally be free of that, of her mother’s overbearing jasmine perfume and the inherent message that the only way to free yourself from a man’s grasp was through his touch.
Jo was taken aback by a pair of arms as they wrapped around her waist. Lost in the smell of jasmine perfume, she didn’t recognize them at first. She left her hands busy on the dough as she felt the lips trail over her silk blouse, along her neck, and to the base of her skull. He brought his cheek to hers and she tried not to pull away.
By then she knew who he was, not some figment of her past or her mother’s design. He was a man she loved, one who had made her feel more free than anyone else ever had. One who’s arms felt safer and happier than any of those memories. Only she hated the scruffy feeling of his face now, unshaven as it was most of the time and plastered with an expression that seemed to trigger all her anxiety for a reason she couldn't quite explain. “Good morning, mi raccomando. Is that what I think it is?"
“Bread, Gio. The same as always.” But really, she wanted to pick it up and throw it across the room, I did it! I fucking did it just like I told you I would. I tried and tried until I succeeded and still I’m unhappy. Still I feel trapped!
She spun around to face him and his eyes had the same expression as the first time she walked in this house. Happiness. It was the one that she avoided when she could, the same one that made her feel like her feet were glued to the spot and she had no choice whether she wanted to stay or leave.
Because it was sheer happiness that she was there; that he could wake and find her so near. A simple joy that the bread she was making was for him, and he would wake up to a house warmed and filled with the smells of clean laundry before he even put on his work clothes. Then in the farmyard it was knowing that he could come inside to see the woman he loved whenever he pleased, that she was there for him and only him.
It made her want to slap him, and she only knew one way of dealing with that.
So she moved back toward the table, wrapping her arm around his neck in a signal he understood immediately. He lifted her legs and moved the bread aside, small specks of flour rising into the air and staying suspended there for a moment, settling back down around her thighs as he started to kiss her.
She could swear that she smelled jasmine perfume in the air, but it was only bread. The ever present smell of bread and domestic subservience. Stop thinking about the fucking bread. Don’t think about the truck in the driveway, or how deeply he sleeps. Don’t think about how far you could drive before anyone would even know you were gone. Just run. Run away.
Only it wasn’t working, no matter how tightly she closed her eyes or grabbed his hair. Just run. You’re trapped here too. The same way you were there. With every thought the raging restlessness clawed its way back up her throat, mingling there with the bitter taste that this was her life now.
For so long, this had been enough, and the smell of jasmine perfume in the air was gone when he was near. At least for a little while. Only then it appeared again, whenever the chickens screeched at sunrise or she saw that look in his eyes. So what do you want to be then, my child? Some glorified maid for a man? Like that’s any life either.
When had she said yes to this life? She had denied his proposals a dozen times, only to end up here at his beck and call anyway, a farm wife in practice if not in name. Forever, mi raccomando. This is forever. The louder her thoughts became the more tightly she closed her eyes, only it wasn’t working anymore. Not at all. Her last bastion of control, the one place she could free herself from her past and her anxieties, now it all just smelled like jasmine perfume and some man she had never wanted, bringing with him the feeling of entrapment in the guise of freedom.
Josephine pushed him away with more force than she intended to. Her eyes were full of hatred for someone else’s touch, one far less kind and attentive than this one. The moment the smell of jasmine cleared from her head, she realized who was actually in front of her: a man who immediately saw the discomfort his hands were bringing and stepped back accordingly, giving her space to gather herself and her surroundings. Then he kept his head bowed and looked back at her in apology, no stranger to when she reacted this way or why that was.
Only it was easier for him to think that was the extent of it, because neither of them really understood that the smell of jasmine perfume and fresh bread were all the same to her, and that sooner or later the heady scent in the air would make her snap regardless of which one it was. “Not - not now. That’s all it is. I’m tired. The chickens woke me again.”
He seemed to sense there was something beyond what he already knew; but her eyes stayed glassy, focused on locking away every thought she had so deeply that even if he wanted to see her unhappiness, she wouldn’t let him. When he brought his hands to her shoulders she was sure not to pull away again. “Okay, mi raccomando. I love you. I’m right outside if you need me.”
As he looked back at her, there was a small beat. A brief pregnant moment he left just for her. I love you too, but I’m unhappy. Maybe saying it would have been easy, but it was pointless.
Antoine, Zelda, Violette. Gio. Each and every one of them was happy. What good would her words do? Ruin everyone else’s small sanctuary amidst a world in ruins? Force them to overturn their peace for an aimless restlessness she couldn't really explain, and maybe could never even mend? No, they were happy. All of them, and Gio had seemingly done nothing to deserve this.
It was simply easier to think that the problem was her, and her alone. Maybe her mother had broken her, and ruined her ability to let herself go to anyone else's desires. Maybe this was being happy, and her whole life all she had known before was excitement, not happiness. She couldn’t ruin it for all of them when she couldn’t even explain it, much less when none of them could be blamed either. She was trapped by guilt and love all the same as she had been by duty and need.
So she turned back around and acted as though she were redirecting her attention to the bread. The bitterness in her throat and the rising smell of jasmine in the air tried to choke back her words, “I love you too, Gio.”
Mollified, he walked back out the door.
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Previous // Next
[waves lapping]
Mia: What’re you so obsessed with?
Matilda: Nothing.
Mia: [sighs] Are you seriously gonna waste your time staring at lifeguards when you-…
Ivan: Triss is the lifeguard.
Mia: WHA-…
Matilda: Do not.
Mia: Whyyy-.. oh my god you’re so annoying, what’s your problem?
Matilda: He’s working.
Mia: So?! Just go n’ say hi-.. wait, pretend to drown!
Matilda: Seriously?
Mia: Seriously! He can come n’ save you n’ you can be like.. SURPRISE! It’d be funny.
Matilda: I’m not doing that.
Mia: I’ll do it then!
[Mia shoved Matilda out of the way before she could protest, sprinting toward the ocean with glee]
Matilda: I hope she actually drowns.
Ivan: You should’a done somethin’ before she had chance t’embarrass ya.
Matilda: Yeah, well.. you could’ve kept your big mouth shut too, but here we are.
…
[super legitimate drowning]
[extremely convincing spluttering]
Tristen: You good? It’s uh-.. it’s pretty shallow here, y’know?
Mia: Ohh sometimes I forget my legs work; you know how it is-.. awh but look how worried my amazing friend is!
[Mia stuck a toe in Matilda’s direction, practically vibrating with giddiness-..]
[Until Tristen dropped her, anyway]
Tristen: Shit-.. are you okay?!
[Mia ignored Tristen’s fussing, thoroughly amused by the scene she’d caused]
Tristen: I’m so sorry, I-…
Matilda: She definitely deserved it, don’t apologise.
Mia: [chuckles] Ahh, that really was funny-.. okay, bye.
[Tristen stared after Mia for a solid minute, enveloped by an awkward silence that made him want to bury himself into the sand like a frightened crab being hunted by a rabid seagull]
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Instead of traditional wedding vows, Martin and Laila had borrowed a few lines from an old poem that spoke of eternal love and the promise to bring peace to each other's hearts.
But there was also a cautionary note woven into this text: "They will try to the end because they have sworn so. Grant that they also wish so." It was a reminder that commitment required not just duty, but genuine desire.
Lately, Martin had started questioning his vow. He struggled with uncertainty, unsure if his growing desire to let go and start anew was just a fleeting impulse or a sign that his heart and sense of duty were no longer in sync.
Martin: I'm having a really hard time understanding you and your actions. Is this your way of asking for help or getting my attention?
Laila: (whispers) Both.
Martin: You have my attention; tell me what I can do to help you.
Laila: Come back home.
Martin: I can't do that. But. You'll continue seeing your therapist, and I'll make time to spend a few hours with you each week.
Laila: (frustrated) Few hours? That's... (Martin interrupts)
Martin: That's the most I'm willing to do at the moment.
Laila: (sighs) And what if this "married for a few hours a week" doesn't work? What if it drives us apart?
Martin: (pauses) If it doesn't work... we shouldn't force something that isn't meant to work.
Laila: (wraps her arms around Martin)
previous / beginning /
Hopefully, someday, even beyond the trials of life, they will still whisper to each other in truth, "I love you.”
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The one thing that Virginya liked about her vampirism was that she barely needed to sleep. This meant that she could get up in the early hours of the morning before Hoot and Annie had finished recovering from the night before, and head upstairs to the main floor to sit on her piano stool, mindlessly playing with the keys in front of her. It was usually therapeutic, pressureless, and peaceful. Usually.
On this day, however, the unfortunately persistent journalist she’d met before was back. And Virginya was not happy about their reunion.
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Сан-Секвойя. День 1
С момента знакомства Хантера и Миртл прошло уже несколько недель, и не было и дня, чтобы мысли парня не были заняты этой брюнеткой, с которой он даже не додумался обменяться контактами. Но он не занимал бы такую высокую должность в своей не самой легальной карьере, если бы не умел искать то, что ему было нужно. Благо, ему не пришлось применять каких-то тёмных схем, чтобы отыскать её социальные сети, ведь у них был общий друг - Чарли.
Это была самая настоящая обсессия, а не просто увлечённость. Более того, Хантер даже не понимал, что его так привлекло в Миртл, но каждую сторис в Симстаграмме он засматривал чуть ли не до дыр
Хантер был не из робких, и поэтому, найдя страничку Миртл, вовсе не выглядя как сталкер, написал ей. И о, чудо! По ходу переписки создалось впечатление, что и ей понравился Хантер. С тех пор они переписывались каждый день. Но была одна загвоздка... Миртл жила в Сан-Секвойе
Хантер был как никогда решителен в своих действиях. Он хотел её увидеть, и что его останавливало? Какие-то сотни километров? Смешно. На работе как раз намечались выходные, так что буквально за десять минут посреди ночи он нашёл ближайший билет до Сан-Секвойи и начал паковать сменную одежду в рюкзак. Он даже не знал, насколько там отличается климат от Коппердейла, но Хантеру было некогда о таком думать - у него рейс в 8 утра
Несколько часов трясучки в самолёте и он уже был на месте. По пути он заскочил в цветочный магазин - ну не появляться же у Миртл на пороге с пустыми руками, правильно? Отец его не так воспитывал.
Миртл была в шоке, увидев Хантера на крыльце своего дома. Откуда он узнал адрес? (ей лучше не знать) Когда он успел прилететь? Но все эти вопросы не задерживались надолго в её голове, поскольку разум быстро затмили чувства
Несмотря на то, что всё семейство Роблс совсем недавно проснулось, Миртл пригласила Хантера в дом, предоставив шанс познакомиться с домашним питомцем и с сестрой. Но с Элеонор Хантер решил познакомиться в своей любимой бинокльской манере)))
Дома у Роблсов ребята сидели не слишком долго. Хантеру было нужно встретиться с хозяином съемного жилья и немного освежиться после самолёта, да и Миртл сказала, что ей нужно привести себя в порядок, чтобы они смогли отправиться вместе погулять. Так что через пару часов ребята договорились сходить вместе в кинотеатр. Хантер предложил пойти на ужастик, на что Миртл согласилась - её не пугали ни литры крови, ни скримеры
Однако по итогу фильм не оставил абсолютно никакого впечатления, по крайней мере для Хантера. Скорее всего за весь сеанс он попытался вникнуть в суть раз пять, и все безуспешно, поскольку все его мысли были заняты Миртл)))
А вечером Хантер решил устроить романтическое свидание в ресторане. Аж приоделся! Даже у сестры на свадьбе он так не марафетился 🥲
Весь ужин парочка без остановки флиртовала. Честно, я за всю жизнь и за всё время игры в симс не видела таких искр между персонажами! Даже мимо проходящий любопытный оборотень остановился, чтобы зарядиться этой дозой феромонов между ними)))
После ужина Хантер и Миртл решили погулять по набережной и полюбоваться на туманный мост. Вечер, да и день в принципе, Хантер был готов назвать самым лучшим в своей жизни, он никогда не чувствовал себя счастливее
И, хоть это и было очевидно, Хантер решил откровенно поговорить с Миртл о том, что чувствует к ней. Для него подобные эмоции, которые он испытывал в её окружении, были непривычны. Всё было так быстро, но это казалось правильным. Ещё ни один человек не пробуждал в нём таких чувств
К счастью Хантера, чувства были взаимны. Им предстояло решить ещё много вопросов, касательно их отношений, но в этот момент самым главным из них было то, что за всё время они так и не поцеловались. Поэтому Хантер решил это исправить ;)
За целый день, наполненный постоянным флиртом и проявлением чувств, игра решила, что Хантер самый настоящий романтик! Я его никогда таким не видела, но возможно это теплилось в нём всё время и ждало подходящего человека, кем и стала Миртл 🤍
Так и простояли они почти до ночи, не желая отлипнуть друг от друга) Разве могло быть романтичнее?
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Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (21/∞) ♛
↬ Queen Irene's Illyrian Emerald Parure Tiara
Sometimes, Queen Irene fancies herself a jewel maker. Despite the vast majority of the royal tiaras being inherited from queens long past, three tiaras were commissioned by Irene herself. The oldest being a jaw-dropping emerald tiara, the centrepiece of a magnificent parure.
In 1971, Queen Irene was presented with an emerald necklace and a pair of matching earrings, a gift from the Illyrian Royal Family on the occasion of her accession as queen consort. King Edward II of Illyria was a charming ruler, and his family's jewel box was stuffed full of spectacular emerald jewels, reflecting his country's wealth and abundance.
The large oval-shaped emeralds caught the Queen's eye, and she decided to expand the demi-parure over the next few years. In 1977, Irene commissioned Garrard to create a tiara to match the parure. The tiara and parure continued to be re-designed and evolved, with more Illyrian emeralds being added to the collection. By 1991, the finished tiara stood at a hefty 9 centimetres tall and was accompanied by a necklace, a pair of earrings, two matching bracelets, and a brooch.
Irene since the parure's completion, Irene has worn it somewhat consistently, stating that the tiara makes her feel "as pretty as a peacock" although it often makes her the tallest lady in the room—even taller than her husband. Despite her age, Irene still manages to pull off this tiara with mastery despite having smaller and more comfortable opinions at her disposal. The Illyrian emerald tiara is truly fit for a queen.
Thank you @the-lancasters for gifting Irene such lovely emeralds 💚
HM Queen Irene, wearing the Illyrian Emerald Parure, frowns as she attends a banquet on April 15, 1996
HM Queen Irene wears the Illyrian Emerald Parure, during a State Banquet on April 18, 2014
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It was the perfect weather for a picture 📸
Click here to see the gif in full resolution
@thebrixtons @houseofcameliard @thehammondlegacy
Unedited picture under the cut!
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Заходите вы в игру и не успев прогрузиться видите это, ваши действия? :D
Пожаром была охвачена целая комната
А Райан даже успел загореться, но благо его быстро потушил Рассел
На удивление, пожарные даже не тупили а сразу же отправились тушить весь дом
Пока на улице всё семейство стояло в панике
Даже кошки подкоптиться умудрились :D
А спальня практически полностью сгорела и тут поможет только капитальный ремонт
Но зайдя в детскую Регина обнаружила причину пожара
Ну и незамедлительно избавилась от подозрительной книги
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Matilda: I can’t believe you talked me into this.
Mia: C’mon, would it be so terrible to bump into Triss?
Matilda: Horrendous.
Mia: Psh, you want to see him-.. besides, I need a tan and a fling with a hot Tartosan goddess.
Matilda: And Ivan?
Mia: Ivan just needs a damn break.
[Matilda folded her arms in silent protest, though still nodded in agreement]
Mia: You’ve could’ve bloody replied, couldn’t you? Chatted, maybe gotten his number, an email-.. but noooo, you’ve gotta be stubborn n’ make me drag you across the ocean like we’re in some shitty romcom.
Matilda: So, you agree it’s gonna be shitty?
Mia: Ough-.. if it all goes to shit at least we’ll be on holiday; don’t be scared.
Matilda: I’m not scared.
Mia: Uh-huh, sure. I brought plenty of factor fifty and there’s a barf bag right there just in case, don’t worry.
Matilda: God, you’re annoying.
Mia: Yeah, but you love me-.. pot kettle black anyway, bitch!
…
Pixie: Why isn’t daddy coming?
Ivan: Well.. he’s got some stuff t’do, remember?
[Pixie shrugged absently, fiddling with Ivan’s sunglasses]
Ivan: Y’remember what we talked about, right?
[Pixie nodded reluctantly as Ivan poked her cheek]
Ivan: It might just be me n’ you for a while, you okay wi’ that?
Pixie: I guess-.. Judie too?
Ivan: Aye, on weekends.
Pixie: Okay…
Previous // Next
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🌱Hurd-Wood Settlement🌱
Продолжаю работать феей-крестной и исполнять желания поселенцев. Сегодня у меня на очереди Джо и Леон втрескавшиеся в друг друга по самые помидоры (сами помидоры в этом посте зацензуренны, сори :D).
Краткая справка по геймплею общины для тех, кто не понимает, что происходит или для тех, кто забыл: На участке в данный момент проживает 16 симов. У них включена автономия, а всякие общинные дела выполняются через систему клубов (хозяйство просто огромное сами понимаете). Поэтому для раскрытия и развития каждого персонажа я использую систему желаний и отталкиваюсь от того, какие ситуации/драмы/отношения мне подкинула игра. Собственно поэтому если я вижу какие-то обоюдные желания, то могу подтолкнуть или создать обстановку для их реализации, но сама предпочитаю никаких сюжетов не строить и развивать их отношения только с "согласия" персонажей.
Весь остров в Винденбурге считается территорией общины Херд-Вуд, а на утесах поселенцы как раз планируют строить баньку. Возможно, по поручению Мэтта, а может быть и по собственной инициативе, Леон отправился сюда разведать обстановку, прихватив с собой Джо.
В итоге эти двое разведывали друг друга :D
Купаться голышом - это то, что доктор прописал (Джо, кстати как раз врач :D)
Штошш.. как говориться, счастья, здоровья и пожалуйста не заболейте, а то еще одну эпидемию холеры в общине я не переживу 🥰🥰🥺
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Before Laila could reach out, Martin seemed to anticipate her intentions; he opened his eyes.
Without a word, Martin shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, his movements slow but deliberate. After gathering his thoughts for a moment, he asked in a sleepy voice, "How are you feeling today?”
Laila: Tired, but better.
Martin: Good.
Laila: What are you doing here?
Martin: (shrugs) Paying my debts? You were there for me when I made bad choices.
Laila: And what's next… when your so-called debt is paid?
Martin: A clean slate. Next page. I don't know.
Laila's pounding headache made it difficult for her to fully grasp Martin's words. Before she could gather her thoughts, Martin had already moved on to the next topic.
Martin: So what happened?
Laila: I'm not sure.
Martin: Hmm… Just chugged a few bottles of wine like it was water?
Laila: (rolls her eyes) Maybe the drink before the last one should have been the last one… Accidents happen.
Martin: I refuse to believe you accidentally had one too many.
Laila: (irritated) You're not even fully awake, and you're already interrogating me.
Martin: Now you know how I used to feel.
Martin seemed concerned, yet he made no effort to approach the situation with tenderness or delicacy. Laila tried to read his tone and expressions, but her senses felt dull, incapable of picking up on the subtleties. This left her with a sinking feeling that the outcome of their conversation was out of her control.
Laila: I tried to numb the pain.
Martin: And did it help?
Laila: No…
previous / beginning / next
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