#sims 4 historical story

[inlovewithregencyera]

transcript under cut : )

Paelford House

July 8th, 1818

*Aurelia sniffling and starts softly crying*

*Aurelia starts violently sobbing*

July 8th, 1808

Auglire Castle

Robert: Sugarplum?

Robert: Sugarplum, where are you?

Robert: And why is it so damn dark in here?

Robert: Sugar?

Robert: Aurelia, please come out. It's your birthday and I have a surprise since nobody else in this damn castle seems to care.

Robert: Aurelia..?

*Aurelia sniffles*

Robert: There you are my dear. Whatever is the matter?

Aurelia: Leave me be Uncle Bertie. I wish to be alone today.

Robert: No, no I won't do that. It's your birthday and your foolish da-forgive me, your foolish parents can't seem to remember. Your mother is still in her bed and not dressed and your fool of a father has been off riding since the crack of dawn, which is never good, he always does that when something is troubling him.

Aurelia: He's been going off riding for long periods every morning since....you know.

Robert: Yes, I know how he reacts to death but he has other children to attend to as well. Mama says he's worse than when our Father died. Had I known it was this bad here I wouldn't have been in the city so long...

Aurelia: *wiping eyes* Well, if you should know, I asked that for my birthday nobody did anything or mentioned it, so it's not their fault. All I asked for was to be alone.

Robert: Well, I'm not respecting that wish. You don't need to be alone, especially on your birthday. None of them have any sense to realize that.

Aurelia: *sniffles* But I WANT to be alone. No birthday will ever be the same again without her. I hate my birthday.

Robert: Well I love your birthday and would like to celebrate it with you and that's why I've came all the way from Winshire. Since those fools haven't prepared you a cake, you and I will go to the sweet shop and get sorbet.

Aurelia: Why should I enjoy any sweets if she never will again? It's my fault, I-

Robert: No, sugar, quit saying that. If you'd like to blame anyone then let it be me, I can bear it. I can't bear you thinking it's your fault though.

Aurelia: But it is…

Robert: *sitting down* No, no its n-*back cracks* NOT!

Aurelia: *softly giggling*

Robert: I'm glad my pain amuses you. If I could break every bone in my body a million times just for you to be happy, I would.

Aurelia: You don't mean that.

Robert: I mean it with my whole heart.

I love you, and I do hate seeing you sad. I too, know how it feels to lose a sister, you know?

Aurelia: *sniffles* Yes, yes I know.

Granny doesn't speak about her that much, neither does Papa.

Robert: They do that because it's easier for them. It's been nearly forty years, and I assure you not a day goes by where they don't think of her. I think of her everyday, and was only eight when she passed.

Aurelia: *softly* What was she like?

Robert: *smiling* Georgiana was a lot like you, believe it or not. She was kind, compassionate, and a little shy. But she didn't really prefer naturally feminine hobbies such as embroidery, cross stitching, or anything to deal with music and that upset our Mama a lot. My Father adored her, because she shared his interests. Before bed, she would often scare your Papa and I with silly ghost stories and don't tell him I told you this, but he once got so scared he wet himself in his nightgown.

Aurelia: *hysterically laughing* Really?

Robert: Yes sugarplum, really. He was around your age when this happened.

Aurelia: *sitting on lap* Uncle Bertie?

Robert: Yes sugarplum?

Aurelia: Does it get any better?

Robert: What do you mean?

Aurelia: Will I ever stop feeling so…sad?

Robert: The pain won't go away, but in time, you'll learn how to manage it better. You won't feel so sad everyday when you're older, it'll just be some days.

Aurelia: But will I ever feel happy again?

Robert: Of course you will sugarplum! You will have many happy memories in your lifetime, trust me. The happy ones outweigh the bad ones, I know it's hard right now, but I promise you eventually it'll get better, *kisses cheek* alright?

Aurelia: Alright. Can we still maybe get sorbet..?

Robert: We will go right now. *picking up* I'll even buy you a whole cake for yourself, how does that sound?

Aurelia: *gasp* Really? But what will Papa say?

Robert: He won't know. Perhaps we will buy him one too, he might need it.

Aurelia: I think Papa needs more than a cake!

Robert: At this rate...I think he does too. We will worry about him tomorrow though, today is your birthday, not his.

Bridget: Aurelia…?

Bridget: *grabbing face* Aurelia.?

Aurelia: *pushing away* Why are you in here..?

Bridget: I couldn't sleep well, my room is too hot. Yours is always cooler...

Aurelia: *sniffling* You always say this when you want to sleep with me.

Bridget: Well, perhaps I do, but I can't because you're upset! What's wrong?

Aurelia: Why does everyone have to die?

Bridget: Is this about Harriet?

Aurelia: Uncle Bertie.

Bridget: Oh, I miss him too Aurelia. What made you think of him today?

Aurelia: I remembered how he took me for sorbet on my birthday ten years ago.

Bridget: Aurelia, it's alright. *caressing cheek* You know he wouldn't want you to be like this, you can't say he would.

Aurelia: No, *wiping eyes* no he wouldn't.

Bridget: It'll be alright Aurelia. Tonight will be the best birthday of your life and I'll make sure of it!

Aurelia: *sniffles* Oh please don't say this will be the best one. I'm already sad today, I would like to at least hope for one birthday in the future where I wake up happy and not cry.

Bridget: Fine. It will be ONE of the best birthdays of your life. *grinning* Is that better?

Aurelia: A little.

Bridget: You shall dance with your future husband, and all is well!

Aurelia: *smirking* I do hope you’re right.

Bridget: When am I not?

Aurelia: Well..

Bridget: *giggling* No do not answer that.

Now, let us both go back to sleep!

Aurelia: I suppose you mean not to sleep in your own bed?

Bridget: Yes! *climbing in bed* It's too much trouble to walk back.

[jackiejellyg0126]

The Brief Life of A Young German Soldier

[auspexsims]

Volume 1: Paper, Cotton, Leather

[aheathen-conceivably]

The tip of Violette’s foot was perfectly upturned as she hopped into the first square of the crudely drawn hopscotch board. And five, six, seven, eight… Her other foot reached the final square, pirouetting exactly in the center before she spun back toward the start and hopped lightly onto her other foot. Nine, eight, seven, six… She reached the middle of the board easily, her balance never faltering even as she bent down to pick up the stone in the fifth square.

She held it up triumphantly, jumping out of the final square with a bit too much flair for someone who already knew they had won. The girl keeping score across the way called out loudly. “Violette wins again!”

Violette set the stone back on the ground, mindful of the boys at the end of the yard who had been cheering her on. She gave them a small bow, watching Will’s cheeks grow pink like he was embarrassed she was drawing so much attention to herself. When she turned she saw her friend Daisy, arms crossed and eyes to the ground. Violette didn’t need anyone to keep track of the score. She never lost track of the count, or at least she very rarely did. She had picked up the stone from each square without losing her balance once. A perfect ten out of ten. Daisy, who came in second almost every time, still only had five out of ten. 

Sometimes Violette considered letting herself fall, just so that she wouldn’t look so defeated. But then, in the moment, with everyone’s eyes on her, her arms soared higher and her posture even straighter, so that she leapt off the final square forgetting she had ever felt bad at all. But now, seeing her again, a small pit of guilt rose in her stomach. She walked toward her, gesturing to the monkey bars, “Want to race across? See who can make it to the top?”

Daisy readily shook her head, glancing over to the table where the boys were seated before she ran to the monkey bars. Violette stood still for a moment, counting in her mind before she ran off to join her. Five, six, seven, eight….

By the time Zelda walked up to the schoolyard a choir of girlish giggles was raining down from the monkey bars. She stood unnoticed near the fence, watching the childish energy surge through the schoolyard like hummingbirds in Spring. It was heartening to see her daughter this way, so lively and comfortable amongst her peers when she herself had been so withdrawn as a child. It made her feel as though there was so much excitement ahead of her in life, and the path would present itself at her feet through her sheer will and magnetism.

But here, she was simply reminded of how much promise lay ahead for all of them, a new generation enjoying what was left of their childhoods - still yet to see what the world would hold for them or how the years would go by. It was so hopeful that it brought tears to her eyes.

“Mrs. Duplanchier!” The words had come from the schoolhouse porch, and Zelda had been so lost in her own thoughts that it took her a moment to realize they had been spoken by Violette’s teacher Mrs. Sullivan. “I’m glad to have caught you. Do you have a moment to speak before the bell rings?” 

Zelda fiddled her hands, nodding her head in nervous agreement. It took only a few seconds for the woman to walk down from the porch, but it was long enough to convince Zelda that her daughter was in trouble. She would have to reprimand her at least, or more likely, punish her. She began to panic, but before the fear could take hold Mrs. Sullivan stopped on the other side of the fence.

“I thought it might be beneficial for the children to try and get some sort of after school activity going. I know a number of the their fathers are either away on the road or out in California, as Violette’s is, and mother’s like yourself are overwhelmed in their absence. I was hoping an additional class may help ease the burden. A dance class, in particular, for the girls only, of course.”

Excited butterflies rose in Zelda's stomach, joining the chorus of hummingbirds in the schoolyard. “Dance? Do you - do you mean like ballet?”

The woman laughed quietly “One could call it that. Mostly ballet, mixed with what I’ve picked up from here and there over the years. I danced a bit before coming to teach here. Nothing professional by any stretch, but it will be nice to have reason to do it again.”

“Of course! She - she would be delighted. As would I.”

A bell sounded from above, prompting a dozen playing children to scurry from their posts to the ground below. The woman in front of her looked over her shoulder and smiled. "My apologies, Mrs. Duplanchier. I should help the children gather their belongings. And please, feel free to tell Violette. You were the last mother I needed to speak with so if she’s interested we can meet thrice a week starting next Monday.”

The bell overhead continued to ring, sounding in time to her heels as they walked away. Zelda watched her go, her own question gnawing at her mind as she bit her nails.

She gazed over her shoulder, looking at the courthouse reflecting the late afternoon sun. She tried to walk by it most days, admiring its stately columns and remembering the welcome it had given them when they arrived. It never seemed to change, despite all that had come and gone since then.

"Mrs. - Mrs. Sullivan?" The woman turned quickly, slowing her footsteps just long enough to allow Zelda to speak. "Has the book truck been by yet?"

"Why, yes. Did Violette mention it?"

Zelda kept her hands behind her back, hoping the other woman couldn't sense her nerves. "She did. But I - I was wondering if you had a chance to speak to the man who drives the truck? Goes by Mr. Barnes, I believe."

Mrs. Sullivan slowed to a stop and raised a curious eyebrow. "We didn't have much time to speak, what with the children's questions and excitement, but he mentioned that he was working out of the courthouse. Something about a government contract? But I couldn't tell you much more, my apologies."

As the sound of running children disappeared inside the schoolhouse, Zelda turned where she stood, taking a few timid steps across the sidewalk as she looked at the courthouse. Alexander Barnes, Librarian. Surely it wouldn’t be any harm for her to speak with him, just to see what this contract was or to understand more about the truck itself. Why was she putting so much hope onto this? Turning it into something it probably wouldn’t never be. It was foolish. Like any other daydream.

"Momma?" Zelda spun around, dropping down to Violette's level as soon as she realized she had been lost in her own thoughts again. "Hello, little flower. How was school?"

Violette rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet, like she was impatient to ask what was really on her mind. "It was fine. I won at hopscotch again."

"Did you! Well that's very - "

"It was." Her response was short, sending cold, quiet daggers into Zelda's heart. "It's - it's two weeks until Poppa comes home, right?"

"Oh, my love. Not quite." Violette looked down as her mother spoke, frustration and disappointment darkening her young face; because almost without realizing, she had lost the count. "I told you not to count the days. It only makes them go by slower. Trust me, okay? Besides, I think I have something that may help..."

Zelda rose to her feet, putting her arm around her daughter's shoulder and turning her full attention away from the courthouse just across the street. As they made their way home Zelda explained what Mrs. Sullivan had proposed, Violette’s face brightening every step of the way.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

[crickets chirping] [Robin gasped as he woke, scrambling backwards through the brush; he was pretty sure by now that ghosts couldn’t hurt him, at least not directly, but this particular entity was still unknown-.. and very close] Robin: AH! ?: AHHH! [Seemingly just as surprised as he was, the startled sprit mimicked Robin’s exclamation] Robin: Sorry! ?: Thou see me-.. hear me?! Robin: Yeah.. that’s a good thing though, right? ?: ‘Tis certainly different. Robin: Wait, where are you going-.. what’s your name? Heath: Erm, ‘tis Heath-.. methinks. Robin: I’ve never seen you here before. Heath: I’ve seen thou-.. and that curious thing around thy neck. Robin: How long have you been, uh… Heath: Dead? Oh, a while. Robin: It’s a camera. Whatever you take a picture of will be captured just as you see it, forever-.. as long as the photo lasts anyway. Don’t ask me how it works though, ‘cause you wouldn’t believe me. [Heath squinted with simultaneous suspicion and bewilderment] Robin: Here’s one I took earlier-.. that weird orb thing there? That’s what you’d look like if I took a picture of you. I think because you’re not physically here anymore, you don’t show up, but I don’t know for sure. Heath: I’m not entirely certain what thou speak upon, yet it hath an air of witchcraft about it if thou bid me. [phone ringing] Robin: Hang on. Heath: I’m not e’en going to bid what that is. Robin: Sorry, mom.. I fell asleep. Courtney: Where are you? Robin: On the island-.. Devin said I could use the boat whenever. Courtney: [sighs] Can you just come home, please? Robin: Yeah, I’m coming. [Robin stared at his phone briefly before sticking it back in his pocket, he didn’t like phones at the best of times – being unable to read the person he was conversing with, even a little, felt inherently wrong – but this felt worse than usual] Robin: I’ve gotta go. Heath: Well, ‘tis not as though I be going anywhere-.. apparently. Robin: I’ll show you some more pictures next time, I promise! Heath: I suppose that’d be nice…

[silverseaming]

Summer drifts in on a warm wind, the heat climbing so subtly at first that it was hard to notice. By the middle of the harvest, though, the rays beat down with such intensity that man, beast and flower wilt beneath them. Only the wheat is uncowed, tall and golden as a sticky breeze runs ripples through the fields. It’s almost bearable in the morning — beautiful, even — when the sun only peeks over the mountaintops, glazing the crops orange as the sunrise. The stalks are still heavy with dew, Chestnut’s feathering shining with the moisture.

At midday, however, it is decidedly not beautiful. Despite setting out at dawn and having the help of the Mellors and Gillis boys, the need to harvest while the dry weather lasts means Kit can’t avoid the worst of the heat. By now his shirt sticks to his back, calluses throbbing on his palms. Even the faithful Chestnut has abandoned him to amble down to the creek, not that he can blame her. Each pile of straw tossed increases his longing for the sweet relief of cool water. It’s hard work, yes, but it must be done. This harvest, just like their first harvest, cannot be allowed to fail. Not when he’s risked so much for this, not when they need this, need— well, not even only the money. The success, the small joy of all the crops being gathered in, a bounty in one area of their lives, when others have been painfully barren. And enough to buy a Johnson self-raking reaper, he thinks, as he fiddles with the latest knot of twine. At least then Chestnut would have to pull her weight, rather than leaving everything to Kit and his scythe.

Just when he can’t take any longer, sustenance arrives in the form of Meg and Daisy, laden with freshly baked bread, jams, lemonade, and all sorts of other delights. This little ritual has quickly become Kit’s favourite part of the day — not just because of the welcome meal they bring, but for the view of watching them walk over the field, the moment before Daisy’s sticky hands grab at his where they come close enough for him to see their smiles. It makes something tighten in his chest. Gratitude. Guilt. The two never seem too far apart these days. Looking at Daisy it’s easy to forget, simply lose himself in her innocent happiness. But there are moments of sadness he catches in Meg’s eyes that bring up a whole new guilt, the old crashing harder in its wake. It’s all for them. That’s what he tells himself. It’s better Meg doesn’t worry. Not now. “Thank you, love.” Kit says, pulling Meg a little closer. “It’s no trouble,” Meg smiles, “And this way Daisy gets to be out in the fields with Pa, without driving me to distraction.” “Well, you two are my saviours all the same.”

[stereo-91]

WIP - NOW AVAILABLE - 18th Century English Parliamentary Items

We have tried to create some items from the 18th-century House of Commons since political fever has recently hit various countries. Since we like creating historical CC we decided to make some items from the old English House of Commons.

We have had to adapt it to fit the rules and boundaries of the game but it all works well.

This mini set is great for historical storytelling and allows you to build a House of Commons themed debating room.

This set includes:

1 Speaker's Chair/Throne

2 Parliamentary Benches

1 Functional Debating Station (Needs Discover University Pack to work)

1 Very Large Fireplace

2 Friezes

2 Tall Wall Panels

1 Small panel

2 Window Panels

1 Railing

1 Banister

1 Banister/Railing Post

1 Triangular Panel For Stairs

1 Wall Column

1 Column With Candlestick Holder

2 Fake Balconies

1 Over Door Head Panel

1 Door

Part 2 may follow in future

We Hope You Enjoy

LINK:

[thebramblewood]

The night where it all began, part one.

Previous / Next

Caleb: Mother and Father wouldn’t approve of you going out alone at night.

Lilith: Which is precisely why Mother and Father need not find out.

Caleb: Surely you can miss one party.

Lilith: I can, but why should I? I’m not like you, Caleb. It takes more than a book to satisfy my pleasure. There’s still time for you to dress. [teasingly] Besides, you’ll never find a proper young lady to court if you refuse to leave the house.

Caleb: And you’ll never attract an upstanding suitor so long as you keep shamelessly flirting in public with married men.

Lilith: Oh, but it’s such fun!

[both laughing]

Lilith: [melodramatically] Poor Mother and Father, burdened with two prospectless children. I almost pity them. They’ll certainly die of shame if the family line ends with us. Of course, they haven’t lost all hope. I may be doomed to crusty old widowers, but they’re still trotting out pretty girls for you. You might just marry yet.

Caleb: [mumbles] Isn’t that a loathsome thought?

Lilith: At least they’d leave you be. There are only so many reasons a young man willingly resigns himself to perennial bachelorhood, and they’re beginning to grow suspicious.

Caleb: We both have our proclivities.

Lilith: Yes. But people talk, and their talk is far less likely to wound you if you’re the one directing its aim.

Caleb: Oh, is that what’s happening when they call you the femme fatale of the ball in the society pages?

Lilith: There are far worse things to be called. Count yourself lucky they’ve only latched onto your social ineptitude thus far, wilted wallflower.

-

Caleb: Be careful.

Lilith: Now, where’s the fun in that?

Caleb: Lil-

Lilith: I can take care of myself.

[royaltysimblr]

Royal Consorts of Windenburg

Lady Anne Wiltshire, Queen Consort - Wife of King James IV

Princess Adelaide of Schwerin, Queen Consort - Wife of King Charles I

Lady Matilda Carlton, Queen Consort - Wife of King Charles II

Princess Ophelia of Lausanne, Queen Consort - Wife of King James V

Princess Carolina of Mannheim, Queen Consort - Wife of King James VI

Princess Augusta of Augsburg, Queen Consort - Wife of King Charles III

Edward Woodville, 2nd Duke of Wilmington, Prince Consort - Husband of Queen Matilda II

Princess Wilhelmine of Platz, Queen Consort - Wife of King Joseph III

Princess Sophie of Dresden, Queen Consort - Wife of King Joseph IV

Princess Leilani of Sulani, Princess of the Isle - Late Wife of King Edmund VIII

Princess Odette of Brichester, Queen of the Isle - Wife of King Edmund IX

Princess Josephina of Corrilea (@theroyalsofcorrilea), Queen Consort - King George I

Charles Statford, 7th Earl of Statford, Prince Consort - Husband of Queen Mary II

Sir Philip Statford, Prince Consort - Husband of Queen Alexandra II

Princess Marina of Brindleton, Queen Consort - Wife of King Albert II

Princess Margaret of Antwerp, Queen Consort - Wife of King George III

Lady Cecelia Warren, Queen Consort - Wife of King William II

Princess Caroline of Brindleton - Wife of King George IV

Lord Oliver Montgomery (@thestenhams), Prince Consort - Husband of Queen Mary III

inspired by the lovely @funkyllama @thegrimalldis and @warwickroyals

[tricoufamily]

how many times can i remake these sims

[antiquatedplumbobs]

Spring 1916

~an excerpt from Elsie Sewell's private diary~

Spring has arrived! The calendar has been saying it had been here for weeks, but today it really and truly made its presence known. The east field is awash with flowers and I simply had to stop and pick a bouquet, they had the sweetest scent and the most delicate yellow petals. Mamma was rather irritated that it made me a bit late coming home, but I can't very much see why. I was back with plenty of time to prepare supper (she had an Aide Society meeting) and the house smelled ever so sweet as I did. No one complained about my victual offerings either.

I am quite pleased to be done with the schoolhouse; sums and grammar were always ever so boring and pointless. It is ever so much better to spend the day with work that actually has to be done, rather than made up to torture us. I enjoy most housework, cooking and sewing in particular, but laundry... There's something about that specific task I have not yet resigned myself too.

I think we all have that particular chore that we dislike more than the others, though none of the adults will admit so to my face. Laundry is a necessary evil though, or we should all go around naked, as Adam and Eve did in the garden of Eden, and the climate her could never allow such an indulgence, so laundry we must do. 

It does feel good to be helping around the house more and take some of the burden off Mamma; I can't imagine how she did all this work on her own for years, it's quite a lot between the two of us. Despite my continued propensity to "dawdle" as Mamma puts it, she still sends me on all the errands, I think she likes having the house to herself just as much I like the walk into town. Sometimes Lydia accompanies me if her mother also needs something fetched.

The general store is the best store in town, it's filled floor to ceiling with everything you could ever need. Dottie's always mighty pleased to see us and if she's busy Mr. and Mrs. Greenfield are always so sweet to me. Sometimes Mr. Greenfield slips me penny candy in with my orders with a little wink.

Dottie, Lydia and I don't see each other as much as when we were in school, but now that we're older when we're finished with chores and housework we have so much more freedom to go on walks or sit down by the inlet. The sun hits the old dock down there in the afternoon and it's so pleasant, especially if there's a breeze coming off the water.

We chat about anything and everything; Dottie always has all the news of the town since she talks to just about everyone at the general store. Mamma says it's wrong to gossip, but she always says that after I've given her all the news. Lydia is such a hoot, she has the strongest opinions on everything and everyone. Just the other day she was informing (lecturing one might say) us on the proper etiquette for accepting a proposal; according to Mrs. Parr proper young ladies should never accept their first proposal, they must refuse and wait for the man to ask again, that's how she'll know he's serious and will make a good husband. Apparently she turned Mr. Parr down thrice. Dottie and I both thought that was completely silly. Mamma said yes to her first proposal and she seems quite content with her lot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

next / previous / first

[inlovewithregencyera]

transcript under cut : )

May 16th, 1811

*soft knocking*

Maximilian: Elle..?

Eleanor: *labored rattling* Papa?

Max: *shakily* No dear, I'm not Papa.

Eleanor: *raspily* Max..?

Max: *kneeling beside bed* Yes dear, it's me...

Eleanor: *coughing* Oh, please don't look at me. I'm hideous now.

Max: *sniffling* What..?

Eleanor: I am ugly now, I'll hurt your eyes. Please, just-

Max: How can you say that..?

Eleanor: Well it's the…*panting* truth.

Max: No it's not Ellie. Please don't say that..

Eleanor: I saw myself in the mirror the other night and I can't believe how wretched

I look. It's true!

Max: No, *carressing cheek* it's far from the truth. You aren't ugly, you mustn't say such things...

Eleanor: *coughing* Max?

Max: Yes, dear?

Eleanor: I missed you very much, but I thought you still had classes.. why-

Max: Because you mean a thousand times more to me than my education. I love you Ellie *voice cracking* you must try and fight this. We will be miserable without you…

Eleanor: I love you too. I will try a little bit longer for you. *gently gripping hand*

Max: Thank you, but you must try for Papa, Mama, and Bell too, alright?

Eleanor: Alright. I promise I will try.

Max: That's very good. Did you see the flowers I sent you?

Eleanor: Yes. Bell brought them to me to smell. They 're *coughing* very pretty! I love roses.

Max: Yes, I know. When you're all better, we shall plant a rose bush together, alright?

Eleanor: *raspily* Alright.

*Maximilian wiping eyes*

Eleanor: Max..?

Max: Yes?

Eleanor: If I don't get to plant the roses…maybe you and Bell can plant them for me..?

Max: Nonsense! You'll be able to plant them when you get better, which will be soon. Alright..?

Eleanor: Yes...but if not, then you two must plant them still.

Max: But you will get better soon..*kissing hand* you're very strong.

Eleanor: Oh, *hacking* please don't cry..

Max: You will get better soon. You must believe in yourself..

Eleanor: I'll try, but if not, can you promise me something?

Max: *sniffling* What is it?

Eleanor: If I can't keep fighting this, please don't be cross with me. I'm trying, I *coughing* really am, believe me.

Max: I believe you. And I've never been cross with you a day in my life. I won't start now.

Eleanor: *weakly* Thank you.

Max: I love you Elle. I'm begging you not to leave us.

Eleanor: *softly* I'll always be with you, so it's alright. Whatever happens, just know you are the best brother in the world, and I'm truly thankful for you.

Isabella: *hysterically sobbing* Why did it have to be her? It should've been me, she would've contributed so much to the world, meanwhile I'm a sinner!

Max: There there, it's alright. I'm glad you're here with me. You and I are very unlucky but at least we have each other. You contribute so much to my life, if that means anything.

Isabella: *snifiling* And you mine. I love you, and I have to ask you something..

Max: I love you too, and yes?

Isabella: When you came back, you said you'd never leave her, I remember. But why did you sleep on the floor in her room and not the sofa..?

Max: Correction, I said I'd never leave her side and I never did. That sofa wouldn't have fit by her bed, so the floor it was.

Isabella: *wailing* No one could ever deserve you so much!

Max: She did, and you do too.

Diary Entry of Maximilian Worthington, 1811: The 24th of May was the day that marked the decline of my once-happy family. The spirit that once resided in that of my dear little sister, extinguished from its earthly vessel at half past 2, taking with it not only her life but the joy that filled our hearts and completed our happiness.

[jackiejellyg0126]

1916. Western Front. A basement farewell.

[auspexsims]

[aheathen-conceivably]

“So even if I jumped off like a bird you’d catch me?” He nodded his head in nervous but fervent agreement. “I’d jump right after you.” She giggled, kicking her feet slightly like she was going to move to stand. “Come on then, let’s go!” But he knew her games by then and laughed along with her, letting the breeze take her idea down the ravine like so many she had said before.

[simsjii]

adeline’s bathroom details 🤍