Welcome to my tumblr. I write stories using the sims to illustrate them. I started writing with Sims 3 but have mostly been using Sims 4. I do intend to go back to my Sims 3 characters but I follow where my inspiration is and it's been with my Lil Reagans. I post my stories here and on Wordpress. If you want to read them on WP you can find them here and here.
My Reagan Saga began as gameplay with Dominick Reagan. I played mostly two generations just gameplay until Jonah and Jayden were born. I fell in love with them. I received twins from @justasimthing and I began to wonder how different the twins lives would be if they married twins. And that's how my stories began and I love them so so much!
If you want to read from the beginning (it is long and I'll love anyone who takes the time to read it all. But I don't expect it) I combined all the stories in what is mostly chronolgical order. i'll add the end of Imposter to it then I'll link future stories separately.
Beginning (Darkest Before Dawn) / Most Recent (Imposter)
Raelyn Reagan is the younger sister of Jonah and Jayden. She has a story all her own follown her BC. I'll let you decide if you lover her or hate her. I'm going to reblog her stories before I post her newest story.
Barbara Stephens sat behind the front desk at the Britechester Public Library. Not to be confused with the giant University Library on campus. No, this one was much smaller and filled with young families and teens rather than the hundreds of stressed-out college students she was usually surrounded by.
It was her job, yes, and a boring, monotonous one at that. But in some ways, it was also an escape.
While some people may prefer a day at the spa, or lying on the beach near the ocean, or hiking in the mountains, there were only two places where Barbara felt truly at peace.
The first was in her tiny garden surrounded by fragrant flowers and the gentle hum of bees.
And the second was here at the library. There was a particular quality to the quietness of a library, broken only by whispers, muffled footsteps, and the pleasant crinkle of plastic that protected the hardcover books. It was soothing. Though, perhaps a little too soothing.
Barbara’s head slumped down for the third time in as many minutes. She jerked it back up with a sigh and tried to refocus on her textbook. History had never been her favorite subject, but this was the first time her solid ‘A’ average had been threatened. She had never got a ‘B’ in her life, and she wasn’t going to start now. It was a slippery slope.
With a shake of her head, she looked up at the clock to check the time.
4:17
She smiled to herself.
Gabriel would be there soon. The realization filled her with renewed energy, and she returned to her textbook, refusing to look toward the entrance.
If she was caught watching the doors when he walked in, he may think she was waiting for him, and that would be far too embarrassing.
Because she wasn’t waiting for him.
Not really.
Not like that.
She just appreciated the consistency of his routine. She’d grown to anticipate the moment he walked through the door. The way he would stop at the same shelf to pull the same books that he returned the evening before and sit at the desk by the far window to continue working on… whatever it was he was working on. She’d never had the courage to ask. Or to speak to him at all, for that matter. He didn’t seem the type that wanted to be bothered.
The only reason Barbara knew Gabriel’s name, and the fact that he went to her school, was because she happened to mention him to Imogen, her friend and former roommate, who somehow found his student profile within minutes of Barbara describing him.
One minute Barbara was going on about his dark hair and eyes, and the way he tended to cover his mouth with his hand—gripping it tight with his brow furrowed, or scraping his thumbnail along his lower lip as he stared off with unfocused eyes—and the next minute, those eyes were staring back at her from Imogen’s screen.
“That him?” she had asked.
“Yes. How did you do that?”
“It’s a gift,” Imogen shrugged like it was nothing, “His name is Gabriel Russo. He’s a grad student, majoring in Microbiology.”
When Barbara caught herself daydreaming yet again, she stretched and chanced another glance at the clock.
4:21
Apparently, this day was never going to end. Giving up, she pushed her textbook aside and decided to start scanning the books from the return bin instead. Might as well work while, you know, at work.
The doors opened a minute later, briefly letting in a draft of cool air and the smell of wet concrete. It was raining again. Not a heavy rain, just a quiet drizzle. Barbara smiled to herself, waiting for Gabriel to walk by before she would allow herself to glance up and watch him navigate his now familiar path through the shelves. But he didn’t walk by. Instead, soft footsteps walked closer and stopped behind her.
She was about to turn around and ask if the person needed help when they knocked on the counter.
Three knocks, to be precise, in quick succession.
Followed by two slow knocks. Left then right.
Michael.
Mikey, to her.
Her twin brother.
And the last person she wanted to deal with right now.
She turned to him, her face going from customer-service-smile to you’re-dead-to-me-glower so fast that she wasn’t sure if she was successful. For good measure, she added a succinct, “Fuck off,” and turned her chair back around.
“B,” he said, sounding more exasperated than he had any right to.
“I’m sorry,” he tried again when she didn’t respond.
Barbara went back to scanning the books, one by one, “I’m working.”
“If you’d answer my calls, I wouldn’t have to bug you at work.”
Now that pissed her off.
She whirled around on him, no doubt she was giving him the full force of her glower this time, “We live together, asshole. You could come home some time.”
He took a deep breath as if he needed to gather strength before saying, “Can we just talk, please?”
“I’m working,” she said again through gritted teeth.
“Can we meet for lunch tomorrow?”
“Depends. Is Katie going to be there?” She infused all the bitterness she felt into the name. It was rare these days for her brother to be without his girlfriend. Barbara wouldn’t be surprised if she was waiting for him outside, and the thought made her tense.
He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed, exasperated all over again, “No, Catherine will not be there. Just you and me.”
Barbara was going to dig in deeper, but was distracted when the doors opened and Gabriel walked in. She stared for a beat longer than she intended and he glanced at her.
Not just glanced.
He smiled.
Okay, more like the smallest quirk of one corner of his mouth, but it felt like the sun bursting through her cloud-covered day and made her heart trip over itself.
She looked back at Mikey, but he was looking curiously at Gabriel as he walked away, and she wanted nothing more in that moment than for Mikey to leave.
“Fine,” she said, pulling his attention back to her. “Lunch. Tomorrow.”
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“He’s no one.”
“Liar.”
“He’s none of your business.”
“That’s how it’s going to be now?”
“Yep.”
He sighed yet again in that way of his. As if talking to her had depleted all his energy stores and then some. “Noon. Our usual spot.”
“Can’t wait,” Barbara said without an ounce of sincerity.
Prev // Next
A/N: We've gone back in time about 40 years, give or take. And while I have an incredible amount of respect and admiration to those who make their stories decade-accurate in regards to aesthetic, fashion, music, technology, etc... I am not that person. And this year has been hard, so I'm not going to put added pressure on myself when it comes to something that is supposed to be fun, y'know.
(I know most of you probably wouldn't get hung up on that, but I got in my head about it lol)
Ben (he hadn’t been B’Ollithiranon in a very long time) tosses the phone down and slides back on the bed. He lied to Parker, not about Sulani—the end for his friend was coming, but they still had time to travel. He lied about Melisandre. She might’ve been the worst creature he’d known in all his long life.
Although “life” was kind of a misnomer. Ben wasn’t alive because he couldn’t die.
No god could.
He lets out a dry laugh at the thought. The gods petitioned the Divine for the chance once. The Creators, though, were adamantly against it. The dead belonged to the God of Death, and no god could belong to another god. The imbalance of power would unmake the world.
They did not mention the imbalance of power that already existed by their own action.
They were so eager to make sims, so enamored of their mortal creation that they did not hesitate to let the oldest of the gods create more beings. Spellcasters, werewolves, vampires, fae, mermaids, and everything in between wreaked havoc at first. In searching for the right tool to force the gods to rein in their progeny, the Divine Creators landed upon death.
Every living thing dies, they decreed. Even supernatural creatures with their long life spans or immortality could be welcomed into Death’s embrace, could belong to it. But gods did not live. If they faded, if they were culled or forgotten, then gods did not get death.
Gods got nothing.
The message was clear: control your spawn, or they will go where you cannot follow. The message the gods absorbed was to paint a target on Ben’s back.
The most egregious part was that necromancy was a near-useless power when Ben was young. Death was for clearing out the harvest, and resurrection was for bringing it back. He had been a gardener, not a god.
Although no one was a god at first. Sims and Supernaturals came up with that. When there were only a few beings with enough power to do the impossible, it made sense to call them gods. But in the old tongue, the dead one that no one speaks anymore, the word for “god” didn’t even exist.
In that language of Ben’s youth, when there weren’t just a couple like him, there were hundreds of thousands; they were called Made. Premade, if they were very old.
Existence wasn’t a curse then. That came because of the war.
Ben was a child when it happened; he’s sure of that. He can remember Somnus, the God of Sleep, snatching him up and fleeing a burning tower. But even Diego, as Somnus now called himself, couldn’t recall what the tower looked like or what the war was even about.
The Divine Creators had broken apart the very essence of time and space and wove a new set of circumstances. As a result, the Made and the Premade like him—the ones that endured—were left with memories that functioned like half-finished autobiographies written by someone who was largely incoherent.
The Divine called it culling, but that was a pretty set of syllables to hide the horror. In the new timeline, the world was similar but also different in ways the Made and Premade could not articulate. If there were less of them, if there were buildings missing, or rituals gone, no one could confirm it. The loss they felt was an unnamed placeholder.
Now, it had been ages since that first timeline—that first world. It was hard to know how many he’d been through. Hundreds? Thousands?
Once the world was full of gods, and now there were just under twelve, with a few demigods and aberrations thrown in for good measure. Some timelines, they avoided each other completely. In other timelines, they were so driven by rage or ennui that they created any number of horrors. Hence, the plagues and the Dark Ages and their most recent monstrous achievement, Operation Eternal Flame.
What a mess this existence was.
Ben lets the dark thoughts wash over him a little while longer before he hauls himself out of bed. He heads for the kitchen to grab a barley bale or six.
Sober was no way to endure an endless existence.
PREV | NAVIGATION | NEXT
Shout out to @surely-sims and her fabulous story, The Plott Legacy (it is so good, you should read it). I am in the midst of my catch-up and LOVED the way they weaved all this meta stuff about the game into their worldbuilding, it was such an inspiration for me for this chapter. Also, we are coming down the home stretch of this arc. Only a few chapters left to save Evan before I go on summer break and start working on the final arc of Monster Date Night 😈😈😈
[low chatter and the occasional hissing of the espresso machine filling the room]
Grace: So~ what are your plans for your birthday? It's next Friday, isn't it?
Nasja: Probably nothing, considering Darren is still stuck in Strangerville.
Grace: What?! No way! Alex, please tell me you aren't as boring as your sister!
Alexander: Huh? Oh, sorry… What did you just ask?
Grace: Your plans? For your birthday? Next Friday?
Alexander: Nothing in particular. I might take the day off, depending on my schedule.
Grace: How can both of you be so boring? It's the last birthday in your thirties! How about… I throw you a party? Nothing too fancy. Just us and a few others going out for drinks. I could ask Tom and Koji to join. Oh - and (…)
Grace: So~ what do you say? Wouldn't that be fun?
Alexander: If you insist…
(…)
Alexander: Nasja, can you pick Tao up? I promise I'll join you in a minute. I just need to make a quick call.
author's note: I'm on a business trip this week so if responses are slower than usual, you know why. :D Also yay~ birthday party coming soon(ish)!
Yoga instructor: Alright everyone, find a comfortable place on your mat.
Yoga instructor: Take a slow inhale through the nose… and exhale fully.
Yoga instructor: Close your eyes for a moment and settle into the room.
Yoga instructor: Thank yourself for showing up and taking this time for yourself today.
(…)
Alexander: Nasja asked if we want to grab lunch together.
Avery: Sounds lovely, but I’ll have to pass. I scheduled a meeting with Darren to go over Finn’s case. I just hope he has some idea what to do about it…
author's note: Ahh, yes~ Let's just hope Darren pulls an ace out of his sleeve, because you can bet they need any input they can get on that case. :'D
(The vampires are walking out of the cemetery, carrying an unconscious Morgan and Darling. Behind them, zombies swarm part of the Harper-Strange Family)
[JONATHAN]: Worthless fledglings. We got two at least.
[AMIYRA]: Yes, it’s better than nothing.
[JONATHAN]: The witches can fight their own battle. Zombies weren’t in our contract.
[AMIYRA]: Mouthy mortals weren’t in it either.
(Aileen pulls Gracie back as she tries to chase after the vampires. Meanwhile, Kason and Darien are fending off the zombies with magic)
[GRACIE]: We should help them!
[AILEEN]: No way, that is not our ministry. Come on!
[ZOMBIES]: BRAINSSSS!!!!!!
[DARIAN]: Zip Zap!
[KASON]: CHILLIO!
[AILEEN]: Darian, look out!!!
[DARIAN]: INFERNIATE!!!
(They make it into the church where Sabrina, Alec, and Parker are already waiting. Sabrina has just checked the box and found it empty)
[KASON]: It’s a mess out there! Do you think the Sages know? Will they send out the battle mages?
[SABRINA]: It's…it’s gone!
[ALEC]: Maybe there’s an explanation. I mean, this isn’t a bad thing, right? That box had to be cursed.
[SABRINA]: It’s not the box. It’s what’s in the box. And Melisandre will lose her mind if she finds out we don’t have it!
[PARKER]: Lose her mind and kill us all. Take five and bar the doors. I gotta make a call.
(Parker ducks into the restroom and makes a phone call)
[PARKER]: (mumbling to self) Come on, pick up!
(The phone rings in an apartment in Evergreen Harbor)
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: Shit! What day is it? Saturday?
(B’Ollithiranon fumbles before answering the phone)
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: (clears throat) Lowkey Security: We Protect your Living Assets
[PARKER]: It’s me, idiot. Also, what the hell kind of tagline is that?
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: Oh, thank gods, mate. I didn’t even look at the screen before I answered. Got a massive hangover.
[PARKER]: Yeah, yeah, drink some water. Listen, you still got a way in and out of the Netherworld?
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: Are you asking me to show up at my job? Because I don’t plan on that, my man, got things to do on my end: investments, side jobs—
[PARKER]: You mean scams. And I’m not asking you to go to work. Toni’s dead.
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: What? Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?
[PARKER]: Melisandre Starks.
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: Meli-who? I…uh…nope. Don’t ring a bell, but I’m sorry to hear. She really helped me out of a tight spot with Omar. Enraging the God of the Sun can have some unpleasant effects, if you know what I mean.
[PARKER]: Sleeping with a man’s husband can have some unpleasant side effects. Anyway, that’s why I’m calling. I need that favor on Toni’s behalf. We’re in danger.
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: What kind of danger?
[PARKER]: Toni had an aunt. Esther Mudget. She was…well, it don’t matter now. She’s dead. She was fond of the fairies, and they shared lots of secrets with her.
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: Makes sense, fairies are gossips.
[PARKER]: Yeah, well, that gossip has us in trouble. Apparently, they gifted her The Wand of the Forgotten. Melisandre wanted it, but Esther refused. Then the wand went to Toni, and she refused, too. Now Toni’s dead and there ain’t no reason to keep fighting.
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: But you love a fight. W-we love a fight.
[PARKER]: What’s wrong with you? I’m old now, in case you hadn’t noticed. Joints hurt. Body aches. Can’t be galivanting around the world with you running schemes no more.
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: But—
[PARKER]: But nothing. I want my kids safe. Toni must’ve taken the wand with her to the Netherworld. Just find her and explain, she’ll give it back.
[PARKER]: Listen, this is some spellcaster bullshit. A witch as powerful as Melisandre don’t need no wand to make her remember something. She can just cast a spell. She just wants it because she hates Esther.
[PARKER]: That’s the problem with witches. They live too long! Fighting over something that went down a century ago at college. It's…it’s just… (gets choked up) it’s stupid.
[B’OLLITHIRANON]: Course, mate. Couldn’t have said it better myself. Petty, nonsense, I’m sure. Hang tight. I’ll get her the message. And then maybe you and I take a trip, hey? Somewhere warm. I hear it’s great for arthritis.
Wolfgang had a migraine, which was usually what happened after he had his nightmares. But now, it was like he was stuck in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.
And he’d brought his brother with him.
And lost his best friends.
This whole thing was a disaster.
He didn’t know why he was standing in some long-abandoned office or what the hell he was supposed to do with the wand he had hidden in his jacket or—
“It's an old transportation map,” Gunther says with wonder.
Wolfgang stares at his brother. Leave it to him to set aside the horrors of this whole situation to marvel at some piece of technical history.
“Maybe that’s not important,” Wolfgang says, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth, a splitting pain hits his head. Names of stations and locations flip by so quickly that he can hardly make sense of them until his mind lands on one location: Central Processing.
“Wolfy? Are you okay?” Gunther cries out.
“I was wrong,” he pants. “The map matters.” Just saying the words takes all his energy. He starts to drop to his knees.
“Magic is real. Monsters are real. And…and I’m like an oracle? My bosses are really scary, and they told me to get the box. And I don’t know if I was supposed to open it, but I couldn’t stop myself!” He sucks in a breath as he hits the ground. “I think I’m here to stop the God of Death from unleashing an apocalypse. I know it sounds crazy,” he rasps, “But I swear it's the truth."
"I’m scared. Gunther, this is like the stuff that happens in books, only I don't know what I'm doing. What if I fail? What if…” he can’t bring himself to finish the statement.
The light in his head is so blinding it hurts. But then suddenly, it lessens.
He can feel his brother propping him up, shielding him. "Gunther," he gasps, his throat tight. His brother probably can't even see the thing he's protecting him from, and yet, he does it without hesitation.
“Don’t stress about it, Wolfy. Let me take the weight.”
Their dad used to say that all the time. First, it was a joke about how heavy their backpacks were, and then it just became a thing he said whenever he didn't want them to worry. Even when he was sick, he never wanted the boys to feel like they had to grow up too fast or take on too much.
Exhausted, Wolfgang blinks back tears. “You’re a really good brother, you know that?”
“The best older brother you’ve got,” Gunther jokes.
Even though the situation they’ve found themselves in is horrific, Wolfgang laughs. “Yeah, that’s true. Hey, have you talked to Lucas? Is he—”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Gunther assures him. “Just rest. I’m going to figure out this map.”
---
Gunther makes sense of everything pretty quickly. Apparently, the Netherworld measures time in spiderwebs, which...what? And if you thought you could catch the train by waiting patiently on the platform like a normal sim—
Think again.
The weirdest part was that they weren’t alone: an old woman, a young man, and a skeleton were also riding along. Or maybe "weird" was the wrong word. It was kind of terrifying.
Gunther, though, didn’t miss a beat. With business-like efficiency, his brother facilitated introductions and gathered baseline information from everyone about what they were even doing here.
The woman wouldn’t stop staring at Wolfgang. Surreptitiously, he pats his jacket. The wand is snug inside a hidden pocket. Glaring, he tries to channel some of the closed-off, sullen-teenager behavior he adopted after his father died. He grunts and sneers his answers while trying to soak up all the details he can about Death herself.
“I don’t understand why the God of Death can’t just bring my husband back on her own,” Evan says, “Why do we have to do some sort of court case?”
“Ritual,” Bryan corrects, “Although yes, it is for all intents and purposes a court. Death is required to do it.”
“How’s that?” Toni demands. “Gods are all-powerful. They can’t be bound.”
“The Divine Creators rule even the gods,” Bryan huffs.
Yeah, that sounded about right.
“The god before Alice had a very loose relationship with the requirements of the job. The Divine got so fed up with B’Ollithiranon and his haphazard approach to bringing the dead back to life that they decided to force a more rigorous process. One he had to participate in.”
Evan looks rightly horrified. “Jayden is already dead?”
The skeleton appears to consider that. “I mean, yes? But also no. He’s in between, not to be confused with The In-Between, which is sort of an unregulated area of the Netherworld. The God of Death hasn’t taken his soul yet, so it could go either way. Hence, the need for the ritual.”
“Tell us more about the court,” Toni demands, “What should Evan prepare for?”
At this question, Bryan looks distinctly uncomfortable. “It’s a judgment. You plead your case, with the help of counsel if you have one. The Erinyes interrogate you, and any denizens present in the Netherworld are welcome to observe and act as a jury. It’s up to The Determined to sway them if they want even a hope of swaying Death herself.”
“Well, that sounds straightforward,” Gunther replies. “I’m sure there are good lawyers here who manage that sort of thing. When was the last judgment? Maybe you can get whoever won that case.”
“It’s been an age,” Bryan replies solemnly. “And no one has ever won a case. The Erinyes always get their meal.”
“So that’s what they meant by 'eat,'” Evan looks devastated. “They’ll eat my Jayden if I lose.”
“Oh no,” Bryan shakes his head, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “Even the Erinyes don’t get to eat what belongs to the God of Death. She’ll devour your husband’s soul if she wants. The Erinyes eat you.”
The train ride is silent after that. Wolfgang tries to steel himself, but he has no idea how to face a god fond of devouring souls. He worries about the meaning of the wand. He worries about how receptive she’ll be to his request not to cause an apocalypse. Or at least, to pull back the apocalypse she already started. The Divine Creators weren’t very specific about what she was going to do, but Wolfgang had to assume that letting loose an army of zombies was probably it.
He tries not to get too close to Evan, since it seemed like he wasn’t long for this world. Wolfgang's heart skitters at the thought of leaving his fellow sim to face Death on his own and deal with a ritual that was almost certainly going to kill him. But no vision shows up to give him a glimpse of a solution.
Nothing, though, could have prepared him for meeting the actual God of Death.
“Alice?” Gunther blinks, “W-what are you doing here?”
“That’s the God of Death you’re talking to,” a skeleton in a knit cap crosses her arms and jerks her chin in Bryan’s direction. “And what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
Nervously, Bryan twists his bony fingers. “I am working. But then I ran into The Determined, and so I had to bring him here.”
Alice’s mouth drops open. She stares at Evan. “You’re The Determined? Sorry, I just…I thought you’d be way different. Everyone made you sound so bad.”
“He is bad,” says the skeleton in the knit cap. “And no one would blame you if you killed him.”
This is it.
This is Wolfgang’s moment.
He didn’t expect Death to be wearing blue jeans and a werewolf sweater, or to be someone that Gunther was apparently friends with. But it was his job to steer her from her evil path.
"STOP!!!!" he shouts.
“Sorry, I…I didn’t mean to yell. I’m not trying to be rude, but Evan isn’t important right now. I mean, I don’t think you should kill him,” Wolfgang winces. He was already getting off track. “What I mean is that I don’t think the court case is what you should be concerned with. You need to pull back the apocalypse.”
He braces himself for some kind of attack, but when he peeks open one eye, Alice is just staring at him.
“Uh…court case?” she scratches her head and frowns. “Also…what apocalypse?”
Vayda had their first vet appointment today. He’s healthy and about 4 weeks old. He was tested for feline leukemia and that came back negative. He’s being dewormed just in case.
Your characters are allowed to be bad people. Your story is allowed to have no moral lesson.yyour ending is allowed to be sad. The villain can win. The good person can do something unforgivable. The lovers can destroy each other. You are allowed to write the thing that no one asked for and everything that everyone told you doesn’t work and you are allowed to not explain yourself.
Two things absolutely changed my life as a writer. You ready?
One- as OP said, your characters can be bad people, they can do bad things. There doesn't have to be a reason or a moral. You can make them bad if you want to. No other reason needed.
Two- it doesn't have to be good, it just needs to be written. On my last book i literally wrote the words "dumbest version" on the top of the page because I had seen some advice to do that. It changed everything. I stopped trying to make it perfect, I just tried to make it. Period. Full stop.
And honestly? Defiance is the best writing I've ever done. All because I let my characters be bad and I gave myself the freedom to write it badly.
A co worker found this little kitten all alone while camping. They’re so tiny. Not sure she’s old enough to be weaned but the mama cat couldn’t be found. I’m going to take them to the vet soon to make sure they’re ok.
Thank you for the tag @enniewritesathing. I was hoping someone would tag me in this. I've enjoyed reading your perspective on these tropes as well as @feroshgirlsims and @igotsnothing.
I've heard many things about tropes on how they should be avoided or how they're done wrong or how to do them right. I think any trope, if written well, can tell an engaging story.
Slow burn or love at first sight?
Slow burn all the way. Love at first sight makes my skin crawl. It goes hand in hand with the saying love is blind. No love isn't blind but lust is. In the majority of love at first sight stories I've read is mostly a story about hormones taking control and the character is just there for the ride. But a slow burn story shows the struggle it takes for them to overcome their own reluctance to get involved with someone whether it's their fear of being vulnerable with someone or losing a friendship or something else. It feels real. When the story finishes your happy because if feels earned. Love at first sight just leaves me with a meh feeling because what was earned? @feroshgirlsims your three lunatics may be the exceptions to that. I'm waiting for them to implode.
Fake dating or secret dating?
Fake dating at least isn't as cringy as secret dating. Secret dating always makes me want to shake someone until they come to their senses. Like why bother dating if the other person or both are afraid of what others might think of them? A relationship based upon shame and fear is not worth having. That's where fake dating has a little more merit. At least they're out there letting everyone see them even if it's not 'real' it's even better if they develop feelings for each other and they have to navigate being found out.
Enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers?
Can I say neither? Enemies to lovers feels like manipulation or a power play. I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Best friends to lovers is a little better but it depends upon how long they've been best friends. If they're best friends as children it's a little easier to imagine deeper feelings developing as they become teenagers. It's little less believable when they're adults in their late twenties early thirties. Those feel more like I'm running out of options and your better than nothing. Like switch flipped inside them to have the consider their best friend as a relationship material? Then again most of the best friends to lover stories I've read has one of them pining for the other while the one they're pining for is playing the field with one failed relationship after another.
Hurt/comfort or amnesia?
Definitely hurt/comfort. Who would have guessed that? I think that's my favorite. It feels right showing my characters tenderly taking care of each. Leaning on each other. Sacrificing their comfort for the other. It strengthens their bond. I can't imagine where Jonah would be without Cecil. They were there for each other in the worst possible moment in their lives. Without Cecil, Jonah wouldn't be where is today. Amnesia is over used and most of the time used for the sake of drama. I think if done properly it could be an interesting plot development but only if the story can't progress without it not just a plot device to add some spice to a saggy middle.
Fantasy AU or modern AU?
This is difficult to choose. I like both which is probably why in most of my stories I have a mix of both fantasy and modern.
Mutual pining or domestic bliss?
Both. I love including moments of mundane slice of life moments in my stories. The gentle teasing of two people who know each other like a comfy book they've read multiple times. The moments when their partners are able to suprpise them with something they didn't expect. Or the occassional times when one forgets to pick up the milk and the little bickering it sparks or the apology and promise to go back out in the rain to make a special trip to get the milk.
Smut or fluff?
Fluff. I'm much better with fluff that builds up to the steamier moments. I'm more the kind that fades to black and resumes the story afterwards. I agree with @feroshgirlsims and @igotsnothing. Too much smut reads like a how to manuel and that's not romantic and it just leaves me feeling uncomfortable. If done right with a lot of fluff and emotional connection i might not notice i'm in the middle of an intimate scene because I'm that caught up in the mood.
Reincarnation or character death?
I hate letting my characters die. i'm too attached. However that doesn't mean I won't write a death scene if the story absolutely needs one. But it has to have meaning. It has to be more than a plot device. I absolutely hate stories where it's obvious the writer didn't know what to do with the character so they killed them. Reincarnation or resurrection is an interesting way to bring a beloved character back but it could become cliche if you use it all the time. Like does this character part cat? It should be used sparingly otherwise the stakes won't matter if your readers think your characters have nothing to lose if you just miraculous save them from death every time.
One-shot or multi-chapter?
Multi-chapter. If I love the characters, the writer, the story. I'll keep reading it. I'll crave more. I'll continue the story in my head with what if's. I've read some good one-shots but I always crave more.
Kid fic or road trip fic?
Both. I love cute kid stuff. What isn't so cute is when the kids start sounding like little adults or when the kids save the day when there are actual adults around capable of doing. I try to let the kids 'help' but it has consequences that they're not ready for. Things that they have to work through to learn from. Kids don't have the emotional maturity to understand situations like adults do and may have lasting consequences. Plus kids have a way of observing things and saying things that adults wont say out loud. I don't think i've ever writen a road trip. I might have to do that sometime.
Arranged marriage or accidental marriage?
Arranged marriage. I can see where some cultures still have arranged marriages and I could see this in a royal dynasty story a historical romance novel. I can imagine how anyone could accidentally get married. I agree with @feroshgirlsims that it would have to be some sort of ritual that the character didn't understand even then that is a stretch and very manipulative because someone knew what was happening and just let it happen.
High school romance or middle-age romance?
Both I guess but I do think we need more middle age romance stories or even old age romance. @igotsnothing I need more of Aurelia and Auggie's story. It's refreshing to see stories like this and not just the drama of teens trying to figure things out but those who have lived their lives, who have wounds to heal and skeleton's in their closets. And they still haven't figured things out. Love it!
Time travel or isolated together?
Isolated together. It forces them to confront themselves and their feelings and fears. Time travel is interesting too but could be hard to pull off well.
Neighbors or roommates?
Both. I could see how both of these could work. I've seen stories about roommates but not as many neighbors.
Sci-fi AU or magic AU?
Both. I like a good Sci-Fi story and if you combine it with a little magic it's even better. This feels similar to fantasy and could all be combined. My stories are filled with mythical creatures, vampires, mermaids, mages, dragons, reapers, etc.
Body swap or genderbent?
Body swap or possession is interesting. In one of my older sims story I had character whose body was take over by an entity while his consceince was locked inside. He had all the angst of seeing what the entity was doing without being able to stop him.
Angst or crack?
Angst all the way. Anyone who has read my stories knows angst is my lifeblood....my poor characters!
Apocalyptic or mundane?
Mundane especially if it has a happy ending. I'm a sucker for a happy ending! Most apocalyptic stories focus on the worst of humanity. Why can't we have an end of the world story where humanity comes together to fix what was broken instead of killing each other over what little scraps are left? I stopped watching the Walking Dead when it became more about fighting each other instead of surving the zombies. Like zombies are bad enough but why add bands of humans killing each other over territory and food, etc. By that point I was like what's the point in saving humanity when they had become worse than the zombies?
Tagging: @likelyamused @wolkentage @justanothersimsblog @treason-and-plot @moodycowplanty feel free to skip if you've done it already or don't want to.
