sims-half-crazy

[sims-half-crazy]

Required: ✅Have only one child ✅Master the politician career ✅Complete Serial Romantic aspiration ✅Master charisma skill ✅Leave someone at the altar (an interaction available during a wedding) ❌Get married for the first time as an elder

Optional: ❌Complete Friend of the World aspiration ✅Buy the Always Welcome, Beguiling, and Great Kisser reward traits ❌Date at least 1 coworker* (optional) ❌Finish at least 5 gold medal dates (4/5) ✅Have a dislike relationship with your only child ✅Acquire the Workaholic Lifestyle ✅Acquire the People Person Lifestyle

Some things don't change...

[sims-half-crazy]

Viscountess Gorsewell secured a highly coveted invitation from Lady Nancy Laandgrab. Lady Nancy, daughter of the Marquess of Berrington, had married beneath her—but it was said that Geoffrey Laandgrab was so rich the Marquess couldn’t bring himself to object when he offered for Nancy’s hand. It was the season's inaugural event and attended by all walks of life. Geoffrey's business dealings were so vast that it pleased him when his wife included a wide array of guests at their parties. One never knew where the next fortune was to be made, after all.

Peg had been prepped with all this information and bade to remember it, lest she embarrass herself—or worse, Lady Alaina. Peg was not usually nervous or prone to jitters, but tonight she was definitely feeling out of her element. Her mother had befriended several ladies of note and was at ease in this environment. How Peg admired her mother’s chameleon ways!

The dancing was to begin shortly. Brierwell Manor, the home of the Laandgrabs, was a large edifice just outside Ravenwood proper. It loomed over the town square, and the ballroom—while not overly large—felt enormous. There were bodies everywhere, it seemed. Peg fumbled with her dance card. Did she have any dances lined up? She was sure she did, but her mind had gone to mush.

Get it together.

A hand extended and lightly caught her fingers. Startled out of her internal panic, Peg looked up and found herself face-to-face with the viscount’s younger brother, Nathaniel.

“Miss Margaret, I believe I’ve claimed this dance.”

His manner bordered on the absurd, but Peg was quickly discovering that the English were quite strict—and a bit ridiculous—about their traditions. She smiled at his bowed head, half-wondering if his top hat might topple off or bop her in the face.

As the dance began, Nathaniel pulled her into a perfect dancing posture and noticed her quirked smile.

“I’m so glad I’ve brought a smile to your lips. You did look rather like a fish out of water a moment ago.”

“I was a fish out of water a moment ago, but I’ve recovered,” she replied. “I daresay, I’m not used to all this formality and rigor. I’m simultaneously enjoying the observation of English tradition and humored by it.”

He eased her into the next steps of the dance, which, to Peg’s relief, were not too dissimilar from the country dances she’d attended back home.

“I shall do my best not to take offense at your very American perspective. Clearly your time in the wilds of California has warped your mind.”

He said it not unkindly, but Peg couldn’t tell if he was being serious or teasing.

“I pride myself on being able to read people, but you I find confounding. In truth, I can’t tell if you’re poking fun at me or being perfectly earnest.”

He moved her into the next steps of the dance effortlessly, and Peg found herself relaxing.

“Are you so worldly that you’ve experienced it all and determined the English ways to be superior?”

Nathaniel laughed, and while Peg enjoyed the sound, she had the impression he didn’t do it often. The lines that appeared on his face weren’t deeply worn.

“You’re quick. My dear sister warned me about you. She despairs that you’ll make a grand match, but she also knows the ton will be alight with interest. You’ll be popular despite yourself, and your wit will soon be known. Be careful— not all Englishmen are as charming and easygoing as I. I find your manner delightfully refreshing, though.”

Peg beamed up at him, if only to disarm him. Her smile wasn’t practiced, but it was genuine. Nathaniel’s gaze faltered for a brief second before he recovered. She wondered what he had been thinking but chose to focus on his lack of answer instead.

“You failed to answer my question. Are you not up to the task?” she asked, sweetly enough to pass for beguiling. Years of being an older sister to a prickly younger brother had their consequences.

“I am eager to oblige your nosy question,” Nathaniel teased.

Peg donned a playfully affronted expression.

“I am neither worldly nor experienced,” he continued. “I have read untold volumes of tomes and based my opinions on the writings of others.”

“Are they all English authors?”

Nathaniel had expected that to be the end of it—but her retort caught him off guard.

“They are. Should they not be?”

“How are you going to acquire a proper worldly view by only reading English authors? I would’ve thought that someone so well read would have a broader library than that.”

She hadn’t said it unkindly—just as a matter of fact, as obvious as the nose on his face.

“I will repent,” he said, feigning penitence. “You’re right. My readings have left me short-sighted. Are there any authors I should read to gain a more well-rounded view?”

“I don’t know your tastes, but you could start with the obvious,” she said, nose scrunching slightly as she failed to suppress a bubble of laughter. “You could try an American author.”

Nathaniel pulled a face of mock horror and joined her in laughter.

“That is just too far, Miss Margaret. I don’t know how they raise proper young misses in America, but they are not so well-armed here. Your tongue could be a rapier!”

They danced for a few moments in companionable silence before he continued.

“The ton is definitely not ready for you. You speak as if you know everything already—are you an older sister?”

She grinned, full of pride.

“I am. I’m a very good older sister. Or rather, I’m very good at being one. You’d probably commiserate well with my younger brother, Julius. He’s forever complaining about the sound advice I give him.”

“Hmm, older siblings do love to expound their knowledge to no end. I shall side with Julius forever now. We have an enemy in common, after all—older siblings.”

He said the last bit conspiratorially, and Peg found herself laughing again. Some of the other dancers turned, curious as to what the pair found so amusing. But as the dance came to an end, Peg felt a twinge of disappointment.

She had thoroughly enjoyed her time with Nathaniel.

[sims-half-crazy]

Sunday Morning Collection

Happy almost Valentine's Day! Enjoy this collection of matching family pajamas for your sims <3

BGC | I-E | Custom Thumbnails | All LODs

Thank you so much to my older (and new!) supporters. Always feel free to let me know if there is anything you'd be interested in seeing from me :)

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[sims-half-crazy]

🥰

Amelia knew that her brother-in-law hadn’t done it with any intention of harming her. It had been a necessary sacrifice to care for his growing family, and he was being an honorable man by keeping her in his home. Even so, she was shaken. Now more than ever, she felt like a complete parasite, with no place left in the world where she truly belonged.

Amelia threw herself into helping her sister with the household chores, trying to drown out her negative thoughts. With the arrival of the last trimester and Penelope still so frail, the family decided to spend the remainder of the pregnancy at their countryside house in Brindleton Bay.

The place was peaceful and cozy, without all the luxury of the city house. Robert Junior was loving the outdoors, always begging his father to take him fishing. Since they had brought only one servant with them, Amelia stayed very busy with the housework. Robert offered to help whenever possible, especially to tire out Junior—the boy had become his father’s little shadow lately.

The countryside retreat was doing wonders for everyone’s spirits; it felt as if the city air had been filled with some toxic gas of anxiety, and only now could they finally breathe deeply and truly relax. The days were peaceful and slipped by in the blink of an eye, though each one carried the beauty of an entire lifetime.

One particular afternoon, Penelope expressed a strong craving for chocolate cake, and since they were out of cocoa powder, Robert offered to go fetch some, unable to deny the wish of his pregnant wife. What he didn’t expect was for the sky to suddenly open up while he was in the village. He took shelter in the local pub and decided to have a glass of beer while waiting for the rain to pass.

After a few mugs of beer, Robert felt far more sociable than usual — and so did the man sitting beside him. They began to exchange a few thoughts, and while Robert rambled on about the hardships of family duties, the man took a dry sip of his drink and then began to speak of a great injustice he had suffered.

The man explained that he was the second son in a family of farmers. “— By just ten months,” he exclaimed, indignantly. “— I’m the younger one by only ten months.” He lamented, taking another sip of his drink. He spoke of how he had worked hard to care for the family land and improve the farm’s productivity, while his older brother focused solely on his studies. According to the man, who introduced himself as William Evans, the farm’s success was entirely thanks to him, yet he was being denied any right to the land simply because he wasn’t the firstborn.

Robert, swayed somewhat by the drink and by sympathy, began trying to encourage the man, urging him to start over and seek his own land, since he couldn’t rely on an inheritance that, by law, wasn’t his. William, though disheartened, agreed that this was indeed the best course of action.

“— Starting a home from scratch,” the man said to himself, in a tone of self-motivation — which sparked an idea in Robert’s mind. He looked the man up and down: drunk, yes, but not a drunkard. His clothes were not fancy, but they were new and of good quality, and he genuinely seemed to understand the management of land. Robert tried to force a friendlier tone as he began to speak about his wife’s younger sister to William, listing Amelia’s many virtues, doing his best to convince the man that starting a family would give him all the motivation he needed.

A few more mugs of beer later, and everything had been agreed upon. Robert felt greatly relieved, thinking he had secured a future for Amelia — even though it hadn’t once crossed his mind to ask the girl’s opinion on the matter.

First/Previous/Next

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[sims-half-crazy]

My dearest Imogen,

I miss the evenings when I could draw you into my arms and recount the events of my day. I fear, were I to do so now, we should not sleep at all — there is so much to see, and so much I long to share with you. The air here on the Continent is different — milder than home, though not altogether unfamiliar. The towns are utterly charming, and the people, more so. Vineyards stretch across the hills as farms do at home, and I was delighted to learn that even the wild grapes may be harvested and fermented.

How I wish you were beside me! In speaking with the locals, I’ve gleaned a great deal about their winemaking methods. I return home with high hopes for our own vineyard.

I eagerly await your reply. How is Peg faring? The season begins soon, does it not? I was glad to hear she has secured a sponsor in the Viscountess Gorsewell. Are they respectable sorts? I confess my time in England was brief, but I’ve always found their titles rather… excessive.

Until you are again in my arms, Your devoted, Elias

[sims-half-crazy]

“Do I dare disturb the universe? / In a minute there is time / For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.” — T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

[sims-half-crazy]

“What’ve you got there?” Joseph sprawled across the bed, as usual, while Julius worked at his desk. One of them was the studious half of the duo, and it sure wasn’t Joseph.

“A letter from my mother. She writes that they’ve arrived and settled in Ravenwood. She remarks upon the weather, how different it is from home. It’s damp and rather gloomy, but with the season beginning shortly, she’s hopeful things may improve. She describes the fog, apparently quite heavy at times, and mentions that she and Peg took tea at a restaurant walled almost entirely in glass. Meant to evoke the Crystal Palace, I should think.”

Julius paused to breathe, and Joseph, ever eager, interjected.

“So, is it like here then? Foggy in the mornings and evenings, but decent enough during the day? And what’d they eat?”

Julius smiled at the question.

“She did not, though she does mention tea, so I daresay there were scones involved. More intriguingly, she writes that Peg has made something of a splash amongst the local gentry — and that she’s found herself a sponsor. One Alaina Whippleton, Viscountess Gorsewell. Good Lord, what an appalling title.”

The two of them laughed.

“They met at the tea house, apparently. Mother says the Whippletons were staring — and Peg’s tongue, as ever, got the better of her. She claims it was the Viscount, his wife, and the Viscount’s younger brother in attendance. Evidently, they found Peg and Mother’s accents rather diverting. Before long, the Viscountess had claimed Peg as her newest protégée. They're expected to be the season’s spectacle. Mother sounds proud, though I can’t quite tell if she ought to be.”

Joseph nodded in agreement and shifted, making space as Julius came to sit beside him.

“Do you think Peg’s really going to marry some Englishman? And what about you — ever think of getting married someday?” Joseph’s thoughts bounced around the way they always did — quick and wide-ranging, like a hummingbird on a mission.

“I’ve liked having this extra time with you,” he added. “Crazy to think we’ve been here a whole year already. I’m looking forward to summer term with you. You think you’ll have to go to England if Peg does tie the knot?”

“That was the object of the trip, so yes — I expect she shall. I imagine I’ll go if I must. But yes... I’m glad to have the summer ahead of us. I do enjoy our time together.”

[sims-half-crazy]

“One composed, the other restless — both preparing for the voyage that would change everything.”

[sims-half-crazy]

Feeling cute... built a tiny English village. I've been in a building funk for a bit, so when I was inspired to build a quaint village I dove in. Then I playtested it, which is quite uncharacteristic for me. While I was playtesting it some townies decided to create an adorable tableau that I had to snap a pic of. Ok, that's all the ramblings for today.

[sims-half-crazy]

The soft glow of a bedside lamp bathed Peg’s room in warm, golden light, and the gentle hum of the wind outside barely reached inside. Peg lay back on the bed, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow would be her 18th birthday, and the next week they would be leaving for England.

Imogen sat beside her, running her fingers through Peg’s hair in slow, rhythmic strokes. It was a gesture of comfort that had been with them since Peg was a child, and tonight, it seemed to carry an extra weight.

“You’ll be a woman tomorrow,” Imogen said, her voice gentle, though she couldn’t hide the slight edge of emotion. It was an inevitable marker, both for Peg and for her.

Peg’s gaze remained on the ceiling, though her thoughts seemed far away. “It feels strange. All of it. The party, the trip... I don’t know what to expect from any of it.”

Imogen’s smile was warm but tinged with a bit of sadness. She’d always known this day would come, when her daughter would step into a new phase of life, far from her influence and control.

“I know,” Imogen said softly. “But you’ve always been so sure about wanting to see the world. England is your adventure. I wanted to make it something worth the expense, for both of us. You’ve earned it, Peg.”

“I guess... it’s just that I never expected it to feel like so much pressure,” Peg said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “It’s not just about traveling anymore. It’s about being part of something—something that feels so big, I don’t know how to fit in it.”

Imogen paused in her motions, her fingers lingering on Peg’s hair as she processed the words. Her daughter had always been ahead of her time, both mature and strong-willed, and yet, this moment of vulnerability was still there. It was the weight of expectations, the burden of stepping into the world not as an individual, but as a reflection of everything that came before her.

“You don’t need to fit in,” Imogen said after a pause. “What you have to do is be yourself. You’re so much more than the world will ever ask of you, Peg. You’ve never been a woman who bends to anyone’s expectations. That’s what makes you rare, and I know you’ll find your way.”

Peg turned her head slightly, meeting Imogen’s eyes, seeing the quiet strength in her mother’s gaze. There was a comfort in it, but also a weight—Imogen had always believed that no man could ever be good enough for her daughter, and that belief made Peg feel even more pressure to meet an ideal that might not even exist.

“But what if I don’t find that? What if I never meet someone who...” Peg trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought. The idea of someone coming into her life seemed both foreign and impossible, yet it was always lurking in the back of her mind.

Imogen’s fingers lightly brushed against Peg’s cheek, and she smiled, though it was wistful. “No man will ever compare to what you deserve, darling. And that’s not something anyone can give you—no title, no wealth. But you know that, don’t you?”

Peg nodded slowly, her heart lightening just a little. There was something freeing in knowing her mother didn’t expect her to follow any path that wasn’t her own.

“I just want you to be happy, Peg,” Imogen continued softly. “Whatever that looks like. Whether it’s traveling, staying home, finding a man, or choosing not to. I want your life to be yours. Don’t worry about making anyone else’s expectations your own.”

A long silence followed, both women lost in the weight of those words, the quiet night wrapping around them. Imogen leaned down, brushing a kiss against Peg’s forehead. “Tomorrow, you’ll be 18. But you’re already more than anyone could ever hope for.”

“I don’t know if I can ever be enough for them,” Peg whispered, her voice barely audible. “But I’ll try. For you.”

Imogen held her daughter’s gaze, her expression soft but resolute. “You’re more than enough. And I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”

There was a moment of stillness, where everything felt like it was suspended in time, before Imogen stood and smoothed out the blanket on the bed. Peg smiled faintly, a weight lifting from her shoulders. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but with her mother’s love and support, she was ready to face whatever came next.

“Goodnight, Peg,” Imogen whispered as she stepped toward the door.

“Goodnight, Mother,” Peg replied, the words warm and full of love, her heart lightened by the promise of her mother’s unwavering faith in her.

As Imogen closed the door behind her, Peg closed her eyes, feeling the soft pressure of her mother’s words lingering in the air. Tomorrow, everything would change, but for tonight, she felt as though she could handle anything the world had to offer.

[sims-half-crazy]

Julius sat on a stone bench along the back garden, fists resting on his thighs, face blank. Across the path, Edmund Beauchamp and Nicholas Eldridge strolled away, their laughter clipped and intentional.

Edmund turned his head, just slightly, so Julius could see the satisfied smirk on his face. “Chin up, West Coast,” he called, voice low and cutting. “The sun does eventually set.”

Nicholas followed with a broad, exaggerated shrug. His arms lifted in a pantomime of innocence, as though to say, what offense? what crime? His grin was infuriating—perfect, public—but something in it faltered for a beat. A flicker of unease passed across his face, brief and unspeakable. Julius saw it. He wasn’t sure what to do with it.

He didn’t have time to dwell. They turned the corner toward the dining hall, leaving Julius behind in the shadowed hush of early evening.

______________________________________________________________

The poetry shelves in the far back corner were usually empty. He liked it there—tall windows, the smell of paper, and nobody asking questions. He pulled The Waste Land from his bag, even though he didn’t feel like reading it. Words calmed him. Or at least made the anger quieter.

He was three pages in, maybe four, when Joseph Shepherd slid into the seat across from him.

“I heard Beauchamp did his usual dance,” Joseph said, folding his hands in his lap like a parishioner.

Julius didn’t look up. “He’s been rehearsing that role since birth.”

“Was Nicholas with him?”

Julius hesitated. “Yes.”

Joseph tilted his head, studying him. “He looked at you again, didn’t he?”

There was no sense pretending. “There was something. A second of... I don’t know. Shame?”

Joseph exhaled through his nose, half amused. “A flicker of conscience. Revolutionary.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, you didn’t. But you noticed it.”

Julius closed the book, carefully. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

Joseph leaned back. “Of course not. That would require courage.”

______________________________________________________________

That night, Julius sat at the edge of his bed, wishing he’d rolled up his sleeves or loosened his collar. The room smelled faintly of linen and the old wood of the wardrobe across from him. Joseph sat next to him, fiddling with his fingers. He did that when he was thinking—usually right before offering advice.

“I keep thinking I should have said something,” Julius said suddenly.

“To Beauchamp?”

“No. To Nicholas. Asked him why he bothers.”

Joseph looked him square in the eyes. “Because that would force him to make a choice. And these boys—these kings in training—they don’t make choices. They inherit them.”

Julius rubbed a hand over his face. “Sometimes I wish I were more like you.”

Joseph snorted. “Don’t. I’m barely tolerated. You, at least, they envy.”

“That’s rich.”

“No,” Joseph said. “They’re rich. You have something else. Anger. Conviction. It frightens them.”

Julius leaned back on his hands. “I thought it just made me the easy target.”

“Same thing.”

They sat in silence, wishing the window were cracked open to let in the cool air and the soft sound of crickets beyond the stone wall. Somewhere in the hallway, a prefect barked lights-out. Neither of them moved.

“Don’t let them turn you into something quieter,” Joseph said finally. “Just... sharper.”

[sims-half-crazy]

[sims-half-crazy]

And just like that, the breeze turned brisk and the green leaves began returning to their true colors. Only Imogen and Elias accompanied Julius to St. Paul's School. Their parting was fraught with emotion, all of it left unsaid, save for the tears Imogen shed as she hugged her son close. Elias was surprised to be pulled into the embrace, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

The great stone structure loomed over the trio as they pulled away. His mother and Elias couldn’t linger; they had to get back to Hector. It was just the hotel-provided nursemaid and Peg looking after him—a worse combination Julius couldn’t imagine. He had planned to walk stoically through those enormous wooden doors, but melancholy caught hold of him, and he turned to watch the final glimpse of his parents as they left the grounds.

[sims-half-crazy]

"Whatever havoc the sand might wreak upon their traveling clothes, it was a small price to pay for the luxury of a day by the sea."

[sims-half-crazy]

Peg was the first to step down from the train, her mother close behind. The briny, stinging air struck them full in the face as they set foot on the platform. Elias quickly found their porter, who gathered up their trunks for transport to the Winnesquam Hotel. Hector was scooped into his mother's arms, and the whole family paused to marvel at the grandeur of the station. The Opelousas depot was handsome enough, but it paled beside this bustling building of stone and glass.

Outside, the view that met them seemed pulled from advertisements and paintings. Red brick paved the streets, orderly yet lively, while the piers stretched out at odd angles, only to be tamed by the neat, brick-laid thoroughfares. It was a confusion of industry and charm.

The hotel's porter, a service offered to their more discerning guests, whisked them on a tour of the town while the trunks were sent ahead. The family was ferried toward the hotel in a grand carriage — though single travelers were often afforded a Ford Model N instead.

The Winnesquam Hotel crowned the small harbor town like a jewel. Winnesquam Harbor itself, a newly rebuilt jetty overlooking the greater sweep of Brindleton Bay, had risen from the ashes of a great fire in '99, though no trace of that disaster remained. Shops with apartments above, houses nestled along quiet lanes, and small parks tucked between the buildings gave the impression of a town that had grown naturally, rather than one so recently reborn.

They would spend a fortnight here, though Julius was due to return to school in just five days.

The days that followed settled into a gentle, easy rhythm. For a little while, at least, the reminders of duty and parting were kept at bay. Julius, like the others, was free to roam, to laugh, to forget what lay ahead.

It was on one such afternoon that they found themselves on the broad, sandy stretch just beyond the harbor walls. With shoes cast aside and hems pinned up in a losing battle against the tide, they set to work building kingdoms in the sand. Castles rose and toppled, ships set sail only to founder, and the children’s laughter carried far out across the water.

[sims-half-crazy]

The sun rose that early August morning just as it always had. Golden light brushed the distant mountains first, then spilled slowly down into the valley, gilding the vines in a warm haze. High on its hilltop, the Stacey vineyard stirred to life. As it did every August, farmhands moved through the rows, preparing for a harvest that would come sooner rather than later. Elias had fretted about the timing of the trip, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

After breakfast, the entire family piled into their new Auburn automobile and set out for Opelousas. Imogen had been tetchy all morning but tried to hide it. The last time she had set foot in this town, the lawyers had been all too gleeful to read Cornelius' wretched will aloud. She smiled softly to herself, remembering how he had not been quite as clever as he thought. He had tied Elias' inheritance to marriage and the production of an heir — but he had never specified which wife. It had never occurred to him that it would be Imogen. It was a petty thought, she knew, but after enduring Cornelius for as long as she had, she allowed herself the indulgence.

They arrived at the station a good hour before their train was scheduled to leave. The family marveled at how much faster the trip was now, the automobile outpacing the memory of every slow, jostling carriage ride of their past. When the train finally pulled in, they boarded and quickly settled into their private car. It was grandly appointed, if cramped — wood-paneled walls, velvet drapes, a narrow hallway just wide enough for two to pass.

By the morning of the third day, the family was still awestruck by the vast sweep of landscapes they had crossed. Now they were in the Rockies, and the mountains outside their rattling windows seemed to pierce the sky. Hector had declared they looked like jagged teeth, and no one had disagreed. Conversations wandered from comparisons of home to the wilderness outside, to the evening's dinner menu—still a formal affair despite the setting—and, most often, to the question of when they would finally arrive in Newport. The ladies spoke in excited tones about the shops they planned to visit for Peg’s wardrobe for her coming season in England. Elias, meanwhile, tried to buoy Julius’ flagging spirits with only middling success.

At last, after almost a full week of travel, the air grew salty, and a new sound filtered in through the rattling windows — low foghorns and boat whistles, welcoming them to the coast.

[sims-half-crazy]

👀

Ravenwood Botanical Restaurant (no cc)

Lot Type: Restaurant

Lot Size: 30x30