ok, im doing it 👀 just a few reminders before i get started ☝️🤓 ➳ this is my first Sims story, so please give me some grace ➳ also english isn't my first language! so mistakes can (and will) happen ➳ i have the general idea for the story, so i'm mostly figuring things out as i go enjoy my babies 💙

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Another update just dropped on the feed! ✨ I know things might feel a bit slow right now, but we’re laying the groundwork for Rowan’s new life in Chestnut after that four-year time skip. Hope you keep enjoying it because something very exciting is just around the corner 👀

Rowan lets out a surprised laugh, warm and involuntary. He leans back in the chair, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t waste time, do you?” She shrugs, lips curving. “Life’s short. Too short to keep carryin’ ghosts around your neck.”

They fall into a quiet that hums with something unspoken. Vega watches him from across the table, her eyes sharp but unreadable, a lazy smile playing at the edge of her lips. “For the record,” she says, drawing out the words, “I wouldn’t be opposed to a round two.”

“I ain’t mad,” she continues, tone gentler now. “We’re grown. We had fun. That’s it. I don’t do forever-and-ever. Never have. You don’t have to tiptoe around me like I’m about to break.” “Still. I should’ve handled it better.” “Maybe. But it’s Chestnut. We forgive fast and gossip faster.”

That makes Vega bark out a laugh, low, rich, and delighted. “Oh, bless your heart, Doc. You’re real cute when you get flustered. Like a preacher’s boy caught sneakin’ out the barn.” He groans and drops his head into his hands, but even he’s laughing now.

His eyes shoot open. “What?! I.. No, I haven’t—” She raises a hand, palm out. “Now hold on, sugar. I ain’t judgin’.” Her grin widens. “Just sayin’, if you’re gonna be hoein’ it up all across Chestnut, at least wear it proud.” “I am 𝘯𝘰𝘵 hoeing it up,” Rowan says, looking genuinely offended.

Finally exhales through her nose and says, “Well, Doc… apology accepted.” Rowan eases a little. “But,” she adds, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smirk, “you might wanna polish up your PR skills. Word ‘round town is you been flashin’ them dimples and charm like it’s on sale.”

Rowan runs a hand through his hair, voice low as he admits he hadn’t been in the right headspace when they first met, that their night together came on the heels of a six-year relationship and a broken proposal. Vega listens without saying a word, her gaze steady, unreadable, but not unkind.

Inside, the warm scent of coffee and cedar clings to the air, comforting and familiar. “Go on, Doc. Sit before you start pacing and wear out my rug.” Rowan lowers himself into the chair, his posture stiff, like he’s bracing for impact. “I came here because I owe you an apology.”

“I was hoping we could talk,” he says. “I won’t take long. Just something I should’ve said a while ago.” The teasing edge fades a little, replaced by something more careful. “Alright. C’mon in. But I’m warnin’ you, if you say somethin’ stupid, I’ve got a mug of day-old coffee and zero hesitation.”

“Well, if it ain’t the Doc. What a surprise. You know, if you gave me a heads-up, I might’ve put some effort in. Maybe even mascara.” “There’s no need to dress up for me. You look great.” Vega snorts, crossing her arms against the cold, but there’s a flicker of warmth in her eyes. “Flatterer.”

Vega appears in the doorway, blinking at him like she’s still half-asleep. Her face bare, no sign of her usual bravado. She’s wrapped in a pajama set, looking nothing like the sharp-tongued woman who once dragged him off the floor and told him to shower or die trying.

Rowan has been putting it off for weeks, maybe longer. But some things don’t sit well on the conscience, and this one has been gnawing at him quietly in the background. Chestnut Ridge thrives on word of mouth, people know people, and they aren’t shy about pointing you in the right direction.

He’s good at it. At making them laugh, at knowing exactly how to touch, at turning the night into something easy, fleeting, and good. He makes sure they enjoy it, too, because that’s the kind of man he is. When morning comes, he doesn’t ask for numbers or promises. Just quiet goodbyes.

Dates still happen, but Rowan doesn’t overthink them anymore. They start with casual dinners, harmless flirting, a drink too many, and always end the same way. He doesn’t chase anything serious; he’s not looking for that.

The clinic is doing better than he ever expected. Word’s gotten around that the new vet knows what he’s doing, and now there’s a steady stream of clients. It keeps him busy, which is exactly what he needs.

Clover is growing faster than Rowan can wrap his head around. She’s still a filly, but she’s already acting like she owns the ranch. Half the time, she’s chasing shadows or pawing at his jacket for attention, and the other half she’s trying to eat things that clearly aren’t food.

Grief still lingers in small, unexpected ways. Rowan will catch himself thinking about his grandma when he smells cinnamon or hears laughter that sounds a little too much like hers, but he’s okay. Chestnut Ridge is starting to grow on him. The routine helps.

Rowan doesn’t remember the last time he saw snow fall like this. In Ravenwood, seasons blurred together; the air was always mild, the skies a predictable gray-purple. But Chestnut Ridge feels different. The world here actually changes.

I didn’t show the screenies, but Raven went to see Crispin before taking Astrid’s soul; she just needed that one moment to breathe, to steady herself before doing what had to be done. Also… An update is dropping todaaaay! 👀

1. Harper, what is that hair? 2. And for the hundredth time: NO. Absolutely not. No more babies. Put the lullaby station down.

maybe i'm working on a thing👀

Sorry for going a bit MIA today, I’ve actually been playing 𝙩𝙝𝙚 scene of this generation, so you can imagine I’ve been a little emotionally occupied 👀 But since I’ve gotten way too far ahead in gameplay, it’s time to hit pause and catch up, which means a looooot of updates are coming your way!

Today’s update was a tough one. I don’t have much to say right now because I’m still really emotional, but I hope you can give this part of the story all the love it deserves ♥️

“He’s here,” Johnny says, his grin widening as he nods. “He’s waiting for you.” He pauses then, his hand sliding down to clasp hers. “But we’ve got time now, baby. All the time in the world.”

Astrid pulls back just enough to search his face. “I missed you so much,” she breathes out, “I have so much to tell you, so many things I didn’t get to say.” Johnny smiles softly. “Elliot,” she blurts, the name tumbling out with sudden urgency. “Is he here?”

Johnny pulls back just enough to see her face, his thumb tracing the faint outline of her jaw as if he can’t quite believe she’s real. He leans in slowly, her fingers tighten in his shirt, and when their lips meet, the world around them blurs into light.

The embrace is fierce, desperate, full of all the years they spent apart and all the words they never got to say. Astrid clings to him, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. “You’re here,” she whispers, her voice trembling though her body no longer can.

She runs to him like she’s been waiting lifetimes for this moment, like something inside her finally remembers how to move. And Johnny runs too, the same wild spark in his eyes that once made her fall in love with him.

The sound comes from behind her; soft, familiar, and impossibly alive. It cuts through the stillness like sunlight through fog. She turns, slowly, almost afraid that her mind is playing tricks on her. But then she sees him.

The sky glows in hues she’s never seen before, lavender melting into silver, light that doesn’t burn but embraces. The air smells like the first breath of spring after a long winter. And for the first time in years, Astrid feels light. Whole. “Baby?”

Crossing the light feels like shedding every burden she’s ever carried. Each step through the glow strips away something heavy, until there’s nothing left but peace. When Astrid opens her eyes again, she’s standing beneath the same great tree, yet everything around her has changed.

When Astrid finally steps away, she smiles, a soft, knowing thing, and walks into the light.

This time, Raven doesn’t summon the scythe. There’s no need for it. “You just have to walk through. It’ll take you where you need to go.” Astrid studies the portal for a long moment, her translucent form flickering in the glow. “I’m proud of you,” she whispers against her hair. “So damn proud.”

Astrid’s mouth curves into a wistful smile. “Malcolm,” she repeats fondly, the name like a sigh. “Do you think I’ll see him?” “You will,” she whispers. Astrid nods once, resolute, as if that’s all she needed to hear. “Alright, then. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” “I think I am. Now, at least,” she says. “Before, I wasn’t. It’s hard, what I do. But Grandpa Malcolm helped me understand things… Helped me find a way to breathe again.”

Raven looks over, puzzled. “You did?” “Of course I did,” Astrid says, her expression softening as they walk. “You don’t raise a daughter and not recognize when she’s carrying a secret big enough to break her.”

“You don’t seem surprised,” Raven says after a long stretch of quiet. Astrid lets out a breath that sounds almost like a laugh. “I’m not,” she admits, her voice carrying a knowing warmth. “I always knew your mother was keeping something from the rest of us.”

Through it all, Astrid doesn’t say a single thing. Not a gasp, not a whisper. Just the faintest, sad smile, as if she’d already known somehow. As if she’s simply letting her granddaughter finally speak the truth aloud.

Astrid walks beside her in silence, her ghostly form gliding more than stepping, the hem of her spectral dress brushing over the grass without a sound. Raven tells her about everything. About Hex. About what she’s become.

“I need to take you somewhere,” Raven says softly. Astrid looks at her for a long moment, studying her granddaughter’s face. “Okay,” Astrid says finally. “But only if you tell me why you can see me.” “I will, don’t worry.”

Raven swallows hard, her throat burning. “Most people aren’t.” Astrid stands up, and there’s that same, unshakable calm that always made Raven feel safe as a child. “I was never most people, sweetheart.”

Raven nods once, the motion small and reverent. “I can. Mom too. But others can't. So I think it’s better if you don’t see her right now.” Astrid lets out a soft hum, her gaze drifting back to the bed where her body lies. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Seeing yourself and feeling fine about it.”

“Grandma?” Raven says softly. The air feels colder here, touched by something sacred. On the couch, Astrid’s ghost sits perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the lifeless body lying in the bed across from her. Her expression shifts from confusion to quiet recognition. “You can see me?”

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” Raven breathes, her voice shaking. Harper’s heartbeat stumbles beneath her ear, uneven and full of grief. When Harper finally finds her voice, it comes out in a whisper, fragile and trembling. “Tell me she’s not alone, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦.” “She’s not,” Raven says softly.

When Raven steps into the house, the quiet hits her first. The kind of silence that feels heavy; like the walls themselves are holding their breath. Shoes by the door. A half-drunk cup of tea on the table. The echo of someone crying not long ago.

And now, as the shadows stretch longer across the room, it feels impossible to imagine the world without her in it.

Watching a mother go is never easy. Even when you’ve known it was coming, when time itself has been whispering the warning for months, it still hits like something you could never prepare for.