decades_simmer

You can often find him in one of the churches many greenhouses talking to his plants or in one of the clinics treating sims.

The only thing he loves more than plants is well….himself and the watcher, I guess. Which was why he is so bitter that the care of his cousin Imogen fell to him. 😌

If you see these two in the monastery halls i suggest you turn and run. 🏃🏻💨

#sims4

Join the fun at: https://www.tiktok.com/@decades_simmer?_r=1&_t=ZP-94PnK0yXyGN

Every nun needs a love interest, right? 🤫

Curious? https://www.tiktok.com/@decades_simmer?_r=1&_t=ZT-94MJtCDGhsz

Medieval Rags to Riches 🏰 Part 2 | Anahi Is Burned! Can the Triplets Sur...

Everything changes on the deserted island…

Anahi is badly injured, and with no healer, no food, and no supplies, Makoa and Kelani are forced to make impossible choices to keep her alive. Survival isn’t just about food anymore — it’s about family, sacrifice, and hope.

As the island grows more dangerous, the question remains: will the triplets survive long enough to escape their fate?

Imogen Guerrero was born to a tailor mother who taught her knitting, cross-stitching, and tailoring. 🧶

When her mother passed, Imogen went to live with her uncle. With nine kids of his own, he sent her far away to the Sulani Monastery.

✨ record store chaos in Strangerville ✨

Eve dragged Kimmy and Theresa to the local record store that afternoon, insisting she needed to check if the new Donna Summer vinyl had arrived. The moment they walked in, Theresa started critiquing the décor (“the lighting is tragic, who approved this?”) while Eve headed straight for the disco section like a woman on a mission.

Kimmy trailed behind them...until she froze.

Because across the aisle, leaning casually against a display of old rock albums, was Marilla.

Green-haired, smirking, effortlessly cool Marilla… …currently laughing a little too sweetly with some conspiracy theory loser that Kimmy knew ran the stall by the trailer park.

Kimmy tried to play it cool, flipping through records with the subtlety of a brick, while very obviously positioning herself close enough to eavesdrop. Eve kept giving her the “stop staring before she notices you” look, but Kimmy was already locked in.

Marilla twirled a strand of her neon hair. The guy leaned closer. Kimmy blinked so hard the sleeves of the album she was holding crinkled.

Secrets, Steam, and… Kimmy? 🚿

While Ellio was in Eve’s tiny trailer shower, the one that rattled every time the water changed temperature, she searched through his clothes as quietly as she could. She checked every pocket, every seam, every place a key card could hide.

Nothing. Not a trace of it. He must keep it somewhere safer.

The water shut off. Eve froze for a second, then hurried to smooth everything back into place before stepping into the kitchen. Ellio came out a moment later, towel around his waist, hair dripping, looking far too comfortable for someone in a stranger’s home.

Before she could say a word, he pulled her in and kissed her like they were more than friends. She barely had time to react before she heard a quiet giggle from by the door.

Eve turned slowly. Ellio looked confused.

And there was Kimmy, Eve's best friend.

“Hi,” Kimmy said, cheeks red. “I… might have let myself in.”

A Dangerous Kind of Chemistry 🌙

In the cool desert night behind the bar, things heated fast between Eve and Ellio. One minute they were laughing, the next they were pressed together in the alley, flirting so fiercely it felt like sparks were hitting the pavement.

When Ellio kissed her neck and asked if the offer from earlier still stood, Eve smiled and told him to come back to her place. The walk home was a blur of giggles, hands roaming, and whispered promises.

Inside the quiet little trailer, they tumbled into her bed and let the night take over. It was fun, wild, and everything the two of them had been building toward.

But while Ellio was drifting into sleepy comfort beside her, Eve kept her eyes open. She was thinking about one thing.

The key card. The one she had seen clipped to his uniform. The one that opened the door to the lab.