#sims storytelling

[invisiblequeen]

I Recommend These Active Sim Stories:

Langerak Legacy

Laandgraab Generations Legacy

Things Fall Apart

Clawcrest Legacy

Girls With Guns

The Grand Occult Baking Championship

The Stephens Continued

Failing At Romance 101

Wifey

[itssimplythesims]

Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.

[funkyllama]

Life goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on. Work all day, and then I wake up work all day.

[hannahssimblr]

On narrow, shaded streets we amble among the crowd, past at all the little souvenir shops hawking bags and t-shirts, postcards and beaded bracelets. I grin at a magnet of a little fat faced chef, riding a vespa with a pizza in his hand. Something about his expression reminds me of Jonas.

“My stepdad used to buy magnets like that all the time,” Astrid says when I show her. “He thought they were so funny, but my sisters and I hated them. Their faces are creepy. They leer at you. The day he broke up with our mother, we threw them immediately into the trash.”

I buy it anyway. 

Outside a craft shop, she plucks a ceramic jug from a shelf to scrutinise. It is hand-painted in with delicate foliage in blue paint. “I think I could make something like this at university, don’t you?”

“Well, maybe this trip will inspire a collection of work for your pottery class,” I say, and she lifts it up to the sun, glinting upon the glaze. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

“Would you like it?”

She smiles. “I would. It’s so unusual.”

I get it for her, then carry the little package, wrapped carefully in tissue paper, around as she flits from store to store, finding inspiration in the art she sees. Inspiration comes to me, too, in the colours, the shapes, the slash of sky in negative space between buildings. I photograph it all. The fruit stands little dogs sleeping in doorways, bougainvillea cascading down whitewashed buildings, and laugh with delight as a little yellow car squeezes a path through a crowd of pedestrians. I marvel at this little town, and all the pockets of the world that still cling to so much charm.

“This is exactly what I needed,” says Astrid, on the terrace of a cafe overlooking the sea. 

“Coffee?”

“Yes, and all of this. The sun, the air. I have been so tired of Berlin lately, and the sky being so grey.”

“You’ve been bored.”

“A little, yes.”

We order coffees. Ristretto for her, Americano for me. The server eyes me with some savage combination of amusement and contempt. I imagine his thoughts. “Of course you would order this, American boy,” the man in my head says, and I force myself to smile at the real one. “Thanks”. 

“Grazie.” Astrid hisses.

“Oh, alright. Grazie. Sorry.”

As he returns with our order, he says something to Astrid in Italian. She responds, then him, and in front of me they have an entire conversation I cannot understand. I sit, sip my coffee, and wait for them to finish. Whatever he is saying, he’s very enthusiastic about it, gesticulating, hands moving passionately. I try not to be bothered when he points at me, and Astrid laughs at whatever he has to say, even though the heat of embarrassment rises to my face. If he’s saying something about me, I can’t defend myself. How frustrating it is not to understand another language being spoken right in front of you. Eventually, he leaves, and she simply straightens her dress underneath her and takes a dainty sip of her coffee. 

“What were you two talking about?” I say, after several moments. 

“Oh, nothing really. He was just asking me where we are from.”

“Right.” I trace the rim on my cup with my fingertip. “Just I think I understood something he said to you.”

Her brows rise in dull surprise. “Oh?”

“Bella,” I say, “As in, beautiful.”

“Oh, yes, he was talking about the weather. ‘Una giornata bella’, he said. ‘A beautiful day’.”

“What did he say about me?”

“About you?”

“Yes. When he pointed at me.”

“He said you don’t look Danish, and I agreed, because you aren’t.”

“Oh.”

“You’re self conscious?”

“No, just, I didn’t know what he was saying. I didn’t know if he was flirting with you in front of my face.”

“Italian men are very passionate about a lot of things. Perhaps it looked like that, but he was being friendly.”

I exhale a laugh. “Giornata bella, huh?”

“If he said ‘bella’ regarding me, it wouldn’t be okay?”

I pause. “Well, I don’t know. Calling another guy’s girlfriend beautiful in front of him is kind of on the line between okay and not okay, don’t you think?”

A shrug. “What if it’s true? Shouldn’t we allow people to appreciate beauty? To see it, and say something? What if I like to hear it? Would you prefer to see me locked away from the world?”

“Of course not,” I scoff. “I’m not one of those weird boyfriends that only wants you for myself.”

“I’m glad you said that,” she gazes at a lone seabird, whirling, spiralling above the bay. “Because I could never handle that. That will never be how we are.”

I smirk. “Yes, ma’am.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[honeyjars-sims]

Part 2 1.08 Meddling

10 Years Ago

The next morning, I was feeling kinda guilty about the discussion Paul had with Danica. I hadn't talked to him about it yet, but I hoped my interference hadn't affected their friendship.

Once I heard him stirring in his room, I decided to ask him about it.

"Hey, you're up early," Paul said. He was right; it was quite unusual for me to be awake before him, but I couldn't sleep much.

"Yeah, maybe you're rubbing off of me." Typical of me to break the tension with a joke.

"Maybe my cleanliness will rub off on you, too," Paul teased.

"Doubtful. Trust me, my parents already tried that. You'd better get used to me leaving dishes in the sink."

As lighthearted as our conversation was, we both knew we were avoiding the elephant in the room. I decided it was best to just address it.

"So, I take it you overheard my conversation with Danica," I said.

"I heard some of it," Paul admitted. "Mostly you telling her to let me live my life."

"Yeah, I guess I'm not really that much better when it comes to meddling in your business."

"No," Paul replied firmly. "You didn't say anything I didn't already know. My conversation with Danica was a long time coming. You might've given me the push, but it was bound to happen eventually."

"I'm glad to hear that. How did it go?"

"It was awkward at first, but I told her things had to change if we're going to continue our friendship. She has to trust me to make my own decisions."

"That sounds fair. How'd she take it?"

"She seemed genuinely remorseful. She acknowledged she has some anxiety issues she needs to address. I told her I need some space for a while, and she agreed to that."

"Sounds like it went as well as it could have."

"Yeah, hopefully she sticks with our agreement. I'd hate to end our friendship after all these years, but I'm prepared to maintain my boundaries."

"Wow, look at you being all mature," I smirk.

"Well, one of has to be! And I don't think it's going to be you."

"I'd argue with that, but you're right."

I walked away from the conversation feeling pretty good about everything.

What I didn't realize was Paul was trying to get over me, and hearing me defend him against Danica didn't exactly help him move on.

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[grownasssimmer]

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[theroyalthrones]

Whatcha call that? Head over heels?

original pic

[hellodahliah]

son of the grim reaper: PROLOGUE

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*crows cawing*

grim: do you need help getting up?

nervous: *gasps*

esther: oh, he fainted.

grim: keep releasing those souls through the portal. i'll take care of this one.

esther: okay.

esther: zuleika, did you notice the mark on his neck?

zuleika: yes, i recognize it.

zuleika: my mom used to tell me those stories about the children marked by death.

esther: i grew up hearing those stories too. kept the book for nostalgic reasons.

esther: maybe it is time to read it again? never thought i'd meet one of those children for real.

[honeywinesims]

Season 1, Episode 6: The Blue Wedding (part 2)

<previous // next >>

Table of Contents

Script

Frida: "Don't worry, I bought some goodies off of Xander in case things get too boring." Iliana: "You may now kiss the bride!"

[wa-royal-tea]

Just dads being dads (〜￣▽￣)〜 💖

[simscognito]

THE TIDES OF POWER (an ongoing simLit)

A kingdom ruled by a deadly siren. A court overrun with enemies. If Melody wants to keep her throne, she'll have to rely on the one human who doesn’t die at the sound of her singing.

The Tides of Power is an action fantasy love story following the new Queen of Simsland as she struggles alongside her human confidant, Diego Suárez, to keep her throne from gangs, vampires and witches vying for her position, as well as from her niece, the late King's eldest daughter, who is supposed to be dead.

Warnings: contains violence, death and mild sexual themes.

Updates are every Saturday on Tumblr (photo-narrative) and WordPress (traditional prose with screenshots).

To read the prologue, click here (Tumblr) | here (WP). To view the chapter index, click here. To view the character bios, click here. To view the out-of-story skits with the siren Queen Melody and her human confidant, Diego, click here.

FRIENDS OF FOES: A COMPLETED SIMLIT

If you’re looking for a simLit full of action, humour, and an enemies-to-lovers central storyline, you’ve come to the right place.

Friends of Foes is an epic love story between the new king of Simsland and the son of a hitman who was involved in the murder of the king’s parents.

To read the synopsis and content warnings, click here. To read the first chapter, click here.

[itssimplythesims]

Adam Hawke

31 ･ He/Him ･ Taurus

Every romance author's dream, Adam Hawke is a six-foot tall portrait of angular lines and hard muscles that flex with his every move. But, behind those sexy, dark eyes lies an even darker soul, stained black from the things he's done, and the lies that are the only thing standing between him and an early grave. As if he didn't have one foot in there already. Buried so deep in his own secrets, Adam lives a double life, doubled over, where every move he makes has to be calculated, controlled, and for the benefit of his family–even if that puts blood on his hands. Even if that means being alone, numbed up on his vices, and constantly on the edge.

It’s no life worth living, but it’s the life he was born into, and there’s no escaping it. Even if there was, the things he’s done? The things he’s been through? There’s no coming back from that. No soul left to save. No love left in his heart. Nowhere else to go but down. Just as the men who came before him, he has every intention of fighting until the good fight ends, probably with him at the bottom of the Atlantic, written off the face of the earth by the secrets he’s worked so hard to keep. That had been the plan, anyway, until one wrong move sent him down a path even more dangerous than the one he was on: one fueled by hope.

[funkyllama]

"Brother,"

Season One, Episode One: Merry Crisis. Scene List: N/A, yet.

Do ya'll remember when @softpine would do the scenes with the script? Yeah, that's what I'm going for aesthetically. Alsooooo- Also, I'm posting scenes as I finish them. Wish me luck.

[hannahssimblr]

Beginning // Prev // Next

Transcript

Jude: Jonas, are we almost done?!

Jonas: Ja, very soon.

Jude: Okay, it's just, you keep saying that, and that concept of 'soon' is starting to feel a bit elastic.

Jonas: Look at the sights!

Jude: Yeah, they're nice. Didn't you say this would be a... what's the word you used?

Jonas: Spaziergang.

Jude: Right, and that implies a short walk.

Jonas: Yes, less than two hours.

Jude: That's fully a hike. If I'd known I would have worn the right shoes.

Jonas: Well, if you want to come travelling with me soon, I think you should be able to walk for just two hours.

Jude: My shoes are biting my heels.

Jonas: Why don't you have practical shoes?

Jude: I'm done. I'm sitting.

Jonas: It's a nice view here.

Jude: It is.

Jonas: So how is it going with the girl?

Jude: Who?

Jonas: With the purple lipstick.

Jude: Oh, Gabija. There's nothing to tell.

Jonas: You are not interested?

Jude: I'm somewhere between interested and not interested.

Jonas: How complicated.

Jude: [awkward laugh] I'm just figuring myself out.

Jonas: Home in Ireland, did you have a girlfriend then? I know, you don't like to tell me things about yourself. I was just curious. Maybe, I thought, you've never had one, or something, and you are afraid of commitment.

Jude: I've had one. Many. Like, five, or something.

Jonas: Okay, mister Casanova. You can brag all you like, but I bet that includes the ones you had in Grundschule.

Jude: [laughs]

Jonas: Okay, I get it. You don't want a serious relationship. You are in college.

Jude: Yeah, something like that.

Jonas: I know places we can go.

Jude: You do?

Jonas: Yes! I know all of the bars. Come on, let's get to the end of the trail.

Jude: But my shoes...

Jonas: We can switch shoes.

Jude: What size are you?

Jonas: 47

Jude: What's that in UK sizing?

Jonas: How could I know? Try them.

Jude: This is weird, right?

Jonas: Why?

Jude: Because shoes are sweaty.

Jonas: Would you rather be sweaty or bleeding?

Jude: Fine, okay.

Jonas: Dude! These have no arch support. You really walk around in such flat shoes all day?

Jude: So what?

Jonas: I can feel the stones and the ground under the soles of them. They are not suitable for [fades out]

[honeyjars-sims]

3.40 This is Where I'll Be

Paul and I got approved for the townhouse, which is just in time since the process of selling their house went a lot faster than my dads were expecting. They were lucky to find a house in Del Sol that was just the right size for them–and all of Dad’s wigs. Before we knew it, we were packing up our lives into boxes and preparing to leave the family home forever.

Moving day comes quickly and the three of us get to work clearing things out. Once the last of the boxes are taken out I stop to look at the empty space. I'm a little taken aback by how harsh and cold it looks without the furnishings.

It's all concrete and metal, and it's apparent now that the house was just a vessel for what my parents put into it–not just furniture and decorations, but comfort and security and love. Lots of love. Still, I can't help but tear up at the sight of it without all of our belongings inside.

Pops puts his arm around me. 

“This is the first place I ever felt safe,” I tell him, a lump rising in my throat.

“It's not the house that made you feel that way,” he replies.

“Yeah, I know. I just have so many good memories of this place.”

Dad is standing on the other side of me. “So do we,” he says. “One day you'll make a home with someone and you’ll fill it with memories of your own.”

My mind begins to fill with images of my future home–I can see children lounging on the couch with thick blankets…maybe they're reading their favorite books or playing video games. The smell of frying pancakes, fresh berries, and maple syrup wafts through the air. We’ll all sit down for breakfast, and the kids will feel the comfort, security and love of their parents. I smile.

Pops, Dad and I are all huddled close. I’m afraid I’ll start crying for real. “Okay, you guys can let go of me now.”

“We’ll never let you go,” Dad coos while tousling my hair.

Pops kisses my cheek. “You’ll always be our little pookie-wookie.”

Once my dads decide to stop annoying me we make our way to the moving van, walking away from what was once our home for the last time. But I don't feel like I'm walking away from anything really–more like I'm walking towards my future. Towards my own family, my own home. Maybe not right now, but I'm on my way.

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[satureja13]

I don't know if he's just happy to be alive or if there's a special offer for Pizza ^^'