This is a gaming tumblr. I primarily post Sims 3 screenshots (99%), but may occasionally post other games. I tag every game with it's name for easy searching and/or blacklisting.
I take requests for Sims and Lots. I am happy to answer WCIFs, but I don't keep the best track of my custom content.
My Sims 3 Games:
My Sims 4 games:
So, I’m doing the Who’s Your Daddy Challenge, where one sim has 26 babies each by a different father.
My Sim is Valorna Valor. She currently lives in Twinbrook, but she’s originally from Dragon Valley. Her species, dragon-like sims, are called Dracona for purebloods and Dragonborne for those with more Sim genetics than Dracona. Unfortunately, the species is dying out due to fertility issues. No Dracona has conceived for a long time, Valorna is one of the last Dracona babies. In fact, Valorna is actually Dragonborne but has been ‘grandfathered’ in as a Dracona because there are so few actual Dracona left.
I’m playing through her quest to be fruitful and prosper. I hope she has a bunch of adorable little dragonlings.
I’ve been super into towns with a lot of mountains and pine trees. Moonlight Falls perfectly fits what I’m into right now.
So I decided to Berrify it. It is now Moonpie Marsh.
This is the patio/yard area of the Lacelo Memorial Library, still in progress.
(A funny thing happened, my husband- who knows about Lacelo and Simblr and Sims, saw this post and thought the ‘Sorry’ was you apologizing to your followers for them having to see Lo/Victoria! Haha. Silly bean.)
For the anon berrysweetshoppe who ships Merlot/Victoria. It’s an interesting idea and I wanted to explore it with some writing. No pictures, because I’m too lazy to open my game right now. Also, it’s my birthday tomorrow and so I’m taking the day sort of to myself.
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Title: Sorry
Pairing: Merlot Pinot Noir x Victoria Bitters, Merlot Pinot Noir x Fairy Floss, Merlot Pinot Noir x Chantilly Lace Chiffon
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,881
Warnings: Miscarriage, abuse, mentions of woo-hoo, character death, sad feels all around.
It's been a long time since I've come to the attic. Years. Decades.
It's full of dust and mildew. Boxes of unfortunate memories. My father's things.
I've never moved them. I can still hear his voice in my head- in my ears, as real and vicious as when I was a little girl.
"Don't touch that!"
And even though he is long in his grave with hellfire at his toes, I don't touch.
His voice follows me other places. Everywhere. When I look in the mirror, it is my father's words of worthlessness whispered to me. When I walk the halls of our family home, I hear his notes on my cleanliness and organization. I don't leave the home without his reminder to talk to no one, to say nothing.
A diatribe against my character. Ever present, though he is not.
I ignore the boxes, for now. Perhaps one day I'll move them, take them to the dump. The thought sends an uncomfortable shiver down my arms. Perhaps not.
I find my way to the chair. One of the antique wooden dining chairs. Well worn with my impression. I used to sit for hours.
In front of the chair, the thing I came to see- the thing I always come to see- the thing I face my father and my past and my pain for-
The crib.
"Hello, KIwi."
Of course, it's empty. Has always been empty.
"I'm sorry I haven't visited recently."
The crib is an antique, too. I think it belonged to my grandmother or great grandmother. Rickety and old. I'm not sure what I was thinking at the time, thinking I could put a child into it. A precious, vulnerable baby into a contraption that looked like it could break with the slightest touch.
Father always said I was stupid.
"I've...missed you, sweetheart. A lot."
That's not a lie. Pleasantries are just uncomfortable. It's in the Bitters genes.
The crib is covered with chipping brown paint. The inside holds a terrible off-green colored pillow, and a lavender blanket. The inside holds no baby.
A crib full of nothing but painful reminders.
"I wanted to talk to you about your father."
Merlot Pinot Noir.
Merlot, Merlot, Merlot. I never did know what to do with you, did I? You foolish, reckless man.
We met in foster care, Merlot and I. I was older than him. Not by much. I was hardened by years in the Bitters home. Merlot was just a kid with unfortunate circumstances.
We did not immediately hit it off. There was no chemistry.
Merlot was the type of kid to try and be friend to the world. He didn't let much stand in his way. Thinking back, as a child he was a genuinely good person and that bothered me. Even when he wanted to be my friend- something no one else had ever done- I was suspicious.
It took years for me to let him in.
It is unfortunate how quickly I can undo the good things that others have done for me.
When we were both teenagers, Merlot began to date. It was a large strain on our friendship. I don't think I was jealous, just angry. Not just at Merlot, but at the world.
I'm afraid I never stopped being angry.
Perhaps now I'm just sad about it all. Not that that's any better.
A different girl snuck in through the windows of our foster home every week. A parade of young ladies so long that I stopped trying to remember their names. Not one ever lasted long enough for it to matter.
Then the dreams started. Merlot began to talk about a girl he dreamt of, who was perfect in every way. One day he would find her.
A pretty, perfect little love story with a pretty, perfect girl who was nothing like me.
The dreams did not lessen the amount of girls Merlot was seeing. If anything, he went through them faster so he could get to his Pink Princess at the end of the line.
He confessed to me once he felt guilty for breaking so many hearts.
That didn't stop him, either.
It was a cool autumn day at the park when I found myself sitting next to Celtic Parsley. Despite all my insistence otherwise, I was still a normal, hormonal teenage girl. Celtic send my stomach into knots. Celtic made my throat dry.
He was also one of the most popular boys at school, at way out of my league.
I don't know what possessed me to ask. Maybe Merlot's friendship made me too comfortable with people. Maybe Merlot and Grandma Mallow had me thinking that people might actually like me.
"Hello Celtic. I'm glad to see you, I was actually wondering if you had a date to the Winter Formal."
I regretted it immediately when I saw his face twist in disgust.
"Oh God, you aren't going to ask me, are you? No offense, but I can't take Icky Vicky to the dance.."
My hands gripped my book tighter. I revisited years of practice in not showing my feelings. Not crying.
"Look, I'm sorry.." Celtic reached for me with his apology, but I pulled away quickly. "I didn't mean-"
We both knew it was too late. I sneered at him, a well-rehearsed defense mechanism. "Don't worry, Parsley. I wasn't going to ask you."
I stood quickly and walked away. I walked until I knew I was out of sight, and then I ran.
Merlot found me crouched on the backyard steps. No one was supposed to be home. No one was supposed to see me cry.
I tried pushing him away. I tried answering his concerned questions with 'Nothing! Nothing's wrong!' A little unconvicing when said through tears.
Finally, he grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look at him. Well and truly look at him. No running. He begged me to let him in. To tell him what was on my mind.
"Please, Vic." His voice cracked.
I didn't know what to say to him. The man who tried so hard to be my friend, who I blamed for all of my bad luck in my teenage years. The man who used women and discarded them like rubbish, but who held me close and shared my tears.
"Is it so wrong to want to be loved, Merlot?"
I heard him gasp under his breath. I think it was the last thing he expected to hear from me.
I shook with my vulnerability in his arms. I cried and tried to push him away. I tried to run. He held me closer.
"You know I love you, Vic." Merlot told me, but we both knew it wasn't the kind of love I wanted. Merlot's friendship could only fill so much of the void in my heart.
I sniffled loudly and snapped at him. "You know that's not what I meant!"
Merlot winced. "I know, but...."
He took a deep breath. "I could try. If you wanted. I can try to love you the way you want."
"You're delusional." I said.
He threw his hands up in defeat. "I just want to help! I may not be in love with you right now, but love is something that can be grown, can't it? Fostered between to people? It doesn't always have to just...be there. I mean, you mean a lot to me Victoria. I don't want to see you hurting anymore and I....don't know what to do if you won't let me in."
He turned and started to walk away.
I think it took three heartbeats before I called after him. "Wait!"
He stopped and turned slowly. I could see the tearstains on his shirt and his cheeks.
"Kiss me." I said.
Father always told me I ruined everything.
Merlot's lips on mine felt awkward and mechanical. I would like to think we tried to make the best of it, but I think the truth is he tried and I had given up long ago.
Our first time sharing a bed was also our last. That, too, felt awkward and emotionless. Merlot was handsome, but there was no substance. No heart. I knew it, and try as hard as he could to prove otherwise- Merlot knew it too.
I had immediate regrets following our first time. I tried to ease my pain by cutting Merlot out completely. I became a shut in, leaving only for meals and communicating in short, heated words.
Merlot didn't persue me or our friendship after that. I think he blamed himself as much as I did, but either way we both knew it was a terrible mistake and that things would never be the same.
It was not long after that when I learned that I had fallen pregnant. It shocked me terribly. A baby was never in my plans. I don't think I could had concieved of ever being pregnant, it was so far fetched to me.
And yet, I was. With Merlot's child.
I was so lost and confused. I both loved and hated the child growing inside of me. I wanted to make it go away, to forget about it all of it, but I also wanted to love it and give it the home I never had.
I never had the chance to figure any of it out. I lost the baby soon after moving back into the family home.
It sounds foolish to say, but I always thought it'd be a girl. I had a feeling. How silly is that?
I named her KIwi, a silly foolish girl's name that I thought Merlot might like. I brought her crib into the attic, empty of child but filled with all my thoughts of the kind of person she would be.
I never told Merlot we concieved. I was able to hear bits and pieces of his life through the local gossip and the papers. He first settled down with a young lady named Fairy Floss and had a daughter, but then he later moved on to a Chantilly Lace Chiffon, with whom he had a large number of children.
I didn't want to ruin his life more than I already had. I think I was also protecting myself. It's easier to be angry when you have someone to be angry at, and I think if I saw him I would know I couldn't be angry at him anymore.
Not that any of it matters. All just memories, now.
The chair creaks as I shift my weight.
"Your father died today."
An accident at the beach. I've heard rumors that Chantilly's father passed in a smiliar fashion. How poetic.
Or perhaps she's just as cursed as I am, with tragedy around every corner.
"I'm sure he would have loved you very much."
I'm not sure. That might be a lie. I don't know anymore.
There's a long pause. I'm not sure what else to say.
That's a lie, too. I'm sure, but it doesn't come easy.
"If...there's a life after this..and you happen to meet, tell your father..."
"Tell him I'm sorry."
The chair creaks again as I stand. I feel foolish. Perhaps now I'll finally get rid of the crib.
Hello tumblr! I’ve been swamped with work, so I haven’t been Simming as much. I’m kind of sort of Simming again, so maybe there will be screenshots incoming soon!
*mwah!*
