#things are getting heated in the oriental spices fandom

[narcissa-black-supermacy]

CARDAMOM IN COFFEE????? it’s a tea spice/desert flavouring for us and i’m so intrigued rn?! do u just,,,put a couple pods in while brewing the coffee? is it taken fully black? no milk or sugar? (i’m from the land of filter coffee but for this, i will make an exception bc i’m both baffled and so so interested)

????????????????

a DESERT SPICE???

we literally have prepared mixes of black coffee with cardamom (hel) in shops, including espresso capsules:

fully black, no milk, little to no sugar (if you try to put milk in your coffee in an arab country you will get kicked out), just black coffee that you mix with boiled water and ground cardamom.

why, how do YOU use cardamom???

[pearwaldorf]

Digging through some old work and found some stuff I'm not going to finish. This was supposed to be the start of a Portia and Nadia origin story, then a Portia/Nadia and maybe Portia/Nadia/female Apprentice thing. I got waylaid by other stuff/fandoms and then lost interest entirely when I heard the new routes aren't as good as the original three, which I still dearly love (even Julian's, although it took me a real long time to get into it).

Anyways. Here's approximately 2K words of Portia coming to the Palace in Vesuvia.

--

The Chamberlain is short, even tinier than Grandmama Rucha. I can hear their legs kicking against the chair as they read the letter of introduction I’ve presented to them. I’m not sure why I’d need something like this to be a chambermaid, even in a palace, but Auntie Lera insisted, because that’s the way they do things in Vesuvia. I deferred to her judgment since, unlike Ilya, I haven’t traveled far and wide. In fact, this is the first time I’ve been outside Nevivon.

“Everything looks to be in order.” The Chamberlain folds the letter back up, tucks it into their breast pocket. They come out from behind the desk and extend their hand. “Welcome to the Palace, Ms. Portia.”

“Oh! Thank you!” I shake their hand, trying not to loom as I do so.

They lead me out of their office, motioning to someone waiting outside nearby. I think he’s a guard or something, but off duty. He’s tall, lanky, and pale, with long dark hair he keeps tied back in a ponytail.

“Ludovico will show you to your room, get you oriented to the Palace,” the Chamberlain tells me. “Now if you will excuse me, I have other duties to attend to.” Ludovico nods, and the Chamberlain bustles off down the hall.

“Can I take your bag?” Ludovico asks.

I shake my head. “Thank you, but I’ve got it. Besides, Pepi gets anxious in new places. I’d much prefer to be close to her.” At the sound of her name, Pepi raises her head out of the bag’s opening and makes an inquiring Mrr?

“Oh! Hello.” Ludovico presents his fingers for Pepi to sniff, which she does. “That’s some unusual coloring, with the pale fur and the dark tips. Never seen a cat like this before.”

“Interesting. Cats that look like Pepi are all over Nevivon.”

“Nevivon, eh?” Ludovico becomes more… alert after I mention it. “We had a doctor that came from there, few years ago.”

“Oh?” I keep my tone neutral, hoping that none of the nervousness I feel comes through.

“This was during the bad years, when the plague was running through the city.” He looks at me, trying to ascertain if he needs to explain more.

“News of the plague made it even to Nevivon. We heard it was bad.”

“‘Twas. Not a family in Vesuvia was untouched. Even got the Count, although that’s not what killed him in the end.”

“How did he die, then?” I’d heard the Count of Vesuvia had died, but not that it was of unnatural causes.

“During the Masquerade, it was. The courtiers went to fetch Lord Lucio from his wing, and his bedroom was on fire.” Ludovico frowns, recalling. “Witnesses say they saw the good doctor fleeing the scene of the crime.”

I scratch Pepi’s head so I don’t have to respond immediately. Ilya couldn’t hurt a fly, but how many doctors from Nevivon would have been in Vesuvia during the plague? If he had killed someone, it must have been for a good reason. Unless he’s changed drastically since I saw him last.

I think back to the letters he sent from Vesuvia. Most of them were hastily written, sloppy penmanship even for him. He never mentioned anything about the Count, or the work he was doing at the Palace.

“Well, we’re here.” Ludovico stops in front of a set of rooms and opens the door. A stout woman with red hair lounges on one of the beds, looking up when we come in.

“This is Bludmila, my guard partner.” I nod, and Bludmila looks ready to get up to greet me, until she sees Pepi.

“I’m sorry to do this even before I’ve learned your name, but I am horribly allergic to cats.” Her eyes are already starting to water, and she looks like she’s holding back a storm of sneezes.

It’s obvious Pepi and I can’t stay here, and I step outside. There must be another room we can have, somewhere in this palace. During our walk through the hallways, our footsteps echoed against empty everything. I expected a palace to bustle, not wait expectantly to be filled with people and activity.

“I should have thought about the cat. That was my oversight.” Ludovico looks embarrassed and sheepish.

“So where will we live?” I peer up at Ludovico, hoping he has a solution.

He taps his finger against his mouth, thinking. “I’ve got just the place. It’s a bit far out, but it’s nice. You game?”

“Sure?” We traipse through the palace grounds, past the gardens, a hedge maze and a grand fountain next to an old willow tree. Some of these I recognize from Ilya’s letters. At the end of a dirt road, there is a clearing with a small cottage.

Ludovico digs through his pockets and unlocks the door with an old iron key. “Take a look,” he says as he gestures me in.

It’s modest but looks well lived-in. The window in front is large, catching the morning and afternoon light. There is a tall, brightly decorated ceramic stove in the corner, intended for both heating and cooking, and a bedroom area beyond that. Looking outside, there are the remains of a garden on the side of the cottage, now gone to seed. With some work, this could be a comfortable home.

I drop my bag and Pepi steps out of it, sniffing around curiously. She finds the bed and jumps on it, walking around until she finds a comfortable spot. She lays down and starts grooming herself, paying no heed to me or Ludovico.

“Looks like at least one of you likes it.” He tilts his head inquisitively, holding out the key.

“Is this-- is this allowed?” This seems very extravagant for a mere chambermaid.

Ludovico shrugs. “One thing I’ve learned here is below a certain level, nobody pays attention to what goes on. ‘S long as food gets cooked, people show up for their guard shifts, them that think they’re important don’t look too close.”

“All right.” I take the key, and he grins.

“I’ll get out of your hair, let you settle in,” he says, making his way towards the door. Before he leaves, he stops and turns around. “I almost forgot to say. Welcome to Vesuvia.”

I lay down on the bed, trying not to disturb Pepi. There are definitely worse ways to end the first day in a new place. It’s the last thought I have before falling asleep.

--

I make my way to where I’ve been told the Countess’s rooms are, unsure of what I will find. The light streams in from windows draped in filmy cloth, enough to obscure the view from outside. In the middle of the room is a bed, with coverings descending from the ceiling all the way down to the floor.

Somebody is sleeping in it, a woman. She has high cheekbones and brown skin. Her purple hair tumbles around her, shading into cool violet. She is one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen in my life, and it takes me a moment to catch my breath.

If these are the Countess’s rooms, this must be Countess Nadia. I had not anticipated working around her in this fashion. There isn’t much I can do about the bed while she’s in it, but I can take care of the rest of her rooms. I tie my hair up and get to work.

I’m about done with everything but the main chamber when the lunch bell tolls. I follow the crowds to the servants’ dining room. The food isn’t fancy, but it’s well-made and filling. I see Ludovico and Bludmila at a table, and they motion me over.

Bludmila presents a vase of flowers from under her chair. “For your new home. I’m sorry about being so rude yesterday. But I am very very allergic.”

“Thank you.” I pull the flowers closer. I don’t know what they are, but they have tight, circular clusters of petals and smell of spices.

“How was your first day?” Ludovico asks.

“Aside from the sleeping Countess, surprisingly uneventful. Is she a night owl?”

Bludmila and Ludovico look at each other. “Not exactly?” Bludmila says.

Ludovico picks up the thread. “Countess Nadia fell into a deep sleep after the last Masquerade. At first, it was thought related to the shock of Count Lucio’s murder, but it’s been almost a year and a half.”

“And nothing will wake her up?”

Bludmila shakes her head. “Nothing. She doesn’t waste away or require food and water, so it must be magic of some kind.”

“Maybe she’s waiting for true love’s kiss,” I joke. “We should get some frogs from the woods.”

“If the Court gets desperate enough, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Ludovico says.

Lunch is over, and I get back to my work. In the lull of the afternoon, the palace and the Countess’s chambers are quiet; if I am still, I can hear the rise and fall of her breath. As I take care of the main room, I wonder what she is like when she’s awake. Is she haughty and arrogant? Wry and sarcastic? Or is she kind and compassionate?

When I am done with my cleaning, I go back to look at the Countess. Feeling a little foolish, I clear my throat. “Hello, Countess. Milady. My name is Portia. I’m here to take care of your rooms. Any time you’d like to wake up, please do.”

I wait for a few moments. Nothing appears to have changed. I let myself out and close the door.

--

My life settles into a rhythm at the palace. I do my work, and I get to know the other servants better. JENGA

One day, I see a figure sitting next to the Countess’s bed. They notice my approach. They wear a shawl that does not quite cover their hair, red with lines of grey. Astute violet eyes look me over, measuring but not judging.

“Hello there,” they say. “What is your name?”

“Portia. And you are...?” I end my introduction with an inquiry.

“This is why I hate titles,” they say. “Nazali Satrinava. Please, call me Nazali.” They extend their hand, and I shake it. Their grip is strong, fingers callused from work with delicate implements.

“Please, come sit down next to me.” I sit on the other end of the bench Nazali has been occupying.

“You are the Countess’s sibling?” I ask. There is a definite familial resemblance to Nazali. I had not known the Countess had siblings, but then again, I knew very little about anything in Vesuvia before I came here.

“I am.” Nazali’s eyes cloud with worry. “I came to visit after not hearing from her for a while and discovered her in this state. I am told she has been like this for two years.”

I nod. “Do you know how is this possible?”

Nazali shrugs. “The interaction between magic and biology is difficult to trace sometimes. Something happened that was the impetus for her falling into a deep sleep.” They brush a strand of hair away from Nadia’s face where it has fallen. “All we can do is wait for her to wake up.”

They look at me. “Can I count on you to help take care of my sister, Portia?”

I have no experience in such things. But if I don’t do it, who will? I nod, and Nazali beams.

“Splendid. I will teach you everything you need to know. You must write to me the moment she wakes.”

“That... might be a problem.”

They stop short. “Ah yes. I keep forgetting things here are not like Prakra, where every resident learns to read and write. We shall also get started on that process. Let us begin.”

--

My days are filled with instruction from Nazali, in both reading and writing and how to properly care for a perpetually sleeping patient. They explain some of the theory behind both, and I don’t understand all of it, but enough that I understand why things are done in that particular manner. It is hard work, but gratifying, especially when Nazali smiles and says I am doing well.

Bludmila comes to visit me outside of my cottage when I’m tending to my garden. “Haven’t seen you much lately. How’s it going?”

I wipe the sweat from my forehead. “I’m busy. But I’m learning how to take care of the Countess, and that’s what’s important.”

She smiles. “I’m glad. It seems to give you a sense of purpose. Not that you’re bad at doing anything, but there’s a care and attention you give to it that’s different from everything else. She needs more people like you around her.”

[theother-will-grayson]

Overcompensating

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Summary: So, it's Thanksgiving, and Virgil is spending it with his boyfriend's family for the first time. In the quiet of post-party cleaning and after dinner coffee, Virgil gains a home and a family. Human!AU. 

Pairings: Paternal Moxiety. Background est Analogical, background est Logicality.

Warnings: none

Also on AO3 and FFN

The smells of turkey and pie had faded, and November’s early night had descended, frosty but snowless. The house, once singing with wine-flushed laughter and childish delight now only held four exhausted, lazy bodies. A Christmas movie played unwatched on the TV in the living room where Logan sat reading a book, Roman lying asleep next to him and quite possibly drooling on his lap. Occasionally, Logan would catch Virgil watching him from his perch on the kitchen counter. They’d exchange a smirk and then go back to their respective activities — Logan to his reading and Virgil to watching Patton clean up.

“Here ya go, kiddo.” Patton handed Virgil a steaming mug of black coffee, too hot to drink for now. “Watch your head.” Virgil scooted over to allow Patton access to the cabinet the was blocking. “Thanks, you’re a peach!”

“Let me help you.” Virgil made to set the mug down and hop down from his perch, feeling guilty and awkward as a guest in this man’s house, perhaps one that was overstaying his welcome despite also claiming the guest room.

Patton chuckled — not malicious, but joyful. “You are helping, ya little moonbeam. You’re keeping me company.” He started in on tossing clean silverware in the drawer. “Drink your coffee.”

Folding his legs back under him and settling in, Virgil obeyed, blowing on it for a little bit before taking a cautious sip. Jesus. An involuntary shudder ran through his body. “You people really don’t mess around with your joe, do you? Shit.” He clapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”

Patton laughed and took the cup from Virgil’s hand. “Oh goodness, you pure, beautiful lamb. Here, let’s do this.” He turned the sink on and waited for the water to warm up.“Sorry, kiddo. I live with two hyper-intelligent workaholics. I had to get used to strong coffee, too.”

Virgil chose not to say anything, but Patton corrected himself anyways, frowning and staring at nothing for a moment. “One. I live with one hyper-intelligent workaholic now.” Their eyes didn’t meet as Patton handed back the coffee, now cooler and watered down a little. There were the gentle beginnings of tears in Patton’s eyes as his gaze fixed on the living room. “You’re lucky, seeing him every day.”

Virgil’s grip on the mug tightened. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? “I know.”

Patton sighed, pushing up his glasses to wipe at his eyes. “Gosh, this is ridiculous. It’s only been two months.”

“Exactly.” Virgil shrugged, sipping his coffee. Much better. “It’s only been two months. Give it time, it’ll get easier.”

That earned him a smile as Patton straightened himself out and went back to his task. A companionable silence fell over the kitchen, the only sound the clatter of dishes and the faint sound of jingle bells lilting from the living room.

The coffee was warm, smelled sharp, wafting in tufts of steam from Virgil’s hands to his nose. It was the same warmth and spice that had massaged his senses the moment he walked into the house. Patton’s radiant smile occasionally thrown his way, Roman’s gentle snores, and Logan’s gentle hand on his sleeping father’s shoulder, only moving to turn a page…

“Whatcha thinking about, kiddo?” Patton was wiping down the stove mechanically, watching him.

“Hm?”

“You’re smiling for the first time since Logan’s Aunt Debbie arrived.”

So he was. Aunt Debbie was a fine woman, but her arrival marked the beginning of the steadily crushing stream of people invading the safe space of the Sanders home, talking and getting drunk and stifling him. He dealt with it, of course. He always had. And Thanksgiving at Logan’s childhood home was certainly better than at his own. But he had yet to figure out if it was worse when Logan’s extended family endlessly pelted him with questions or when they let him melt into the wall and pretended he was nothing more than a decoration to fill the blank wall space in the corner.

“Did you ever think that you’d end up with an astronomy professor for a son?” Virgil asked.

“Not at all,” Patton replied, scooping leftover mashed potatoes. “I used to think I’d end up with an astronaut. Then an entomologist — that’s the one that studies bugs, right? Then a physicist, then a doctor, then an archaeologist, then an environmentalist.” Patton was lost in the memory now, and Virgil was just along for the ride. “I always knew Logan would be a teacher, though.”

“Really? How?”

Patton smiled into his work. “Well, I taught him how to read when Roman was working. We couldn’t afford a nanny or daycare, so it was just me and little Logan all day. But Roman still wanted to participate and be a part of Logan’s life, so he would always ask him, ‘Hey Logan, what’s this word?’ or ‘What does that sign say?’ Eventually, Logan got it in his head that Roman had no idea how to read.”

Virgil nearly snorted coffee out his nose. “Seriously?”

“I have a photo, too.” Chuckling, Patton slapped a lid on the last tupperware filled with leftover sweet potato casserole. “Logan sat him down and said, ‘Papa, it is time you learned something very important.’”

Virgil could just picture a tiny Logan looking sternly at his Papa through his too-large glasses, his hands on his hips, his voice stern, a Dr. Seuss book in his grip. The image made him smile.

Patton sipped his own mug of coffee, shaking his head and leaning against the counter opposite Virgil. “He’s such a precious little nerd. It took all Roman had not to laugh.”

“So you do that to Logan too, huh?”

Patton blinked, eyes owlish behind his thick glasses. “What do you mean?”

Blush heated Virgil’s face in a sharp blast, shattering the easy conversation they had created over the past half an hour or so. “I don’t know. That thing you do. You know, with all the names.”

Patton looked a little embarrassed. “Oh, jeez. I’m sorry. People are always telling me I get a bit weird when I do that.”

Oh, Jesus. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, call you out.”

“Oh, not at all. You wouldn’t be the first anyways.” Patton looked as if there was something else he wanted to say, but his teeth worried his lip instead.

At a loss, Virgil caught Logan’s eye again. He was leaning as if ready to hop up from the couch at the first sign of panic or discomfort on Virgil’s face. What’s wrong? His eyes asked. Virgil opened his mouth, but shook his head. What the fuck was he supposed to do right now?

“Virgil…” Patton’s voice drew him back to the kitchen, Logan’s gaze still burning into his temple. “To be perfectly honest, Logan told me a little bit about your...situation. Not everything!” he quickly reassured, noticing Virgil’s panic. “But just a little about your dad, and what happened to your mom —”

“Nothing happened to my mother,” Virgil bit out. “My mother was something that happened to me, and now she’s gone.”

As soon as the words were out, Virgil wished he hadn’t let his bitterness surface. Patton wrung a dish towel in his hands, obviously uncomfortable with Virgil and everything he had ruined in the night so far.

“What I'm trying to say, Virgil, is that we just wanted to include you.”

What? Patton’s hand was on his knee and Virgil wasn’t pushing it away. He felt unsure, he felt confused, he felt —

“When Logan asked to bring you home, I was beyond ecstatic to mean the man who makes my little go-getter poindexter so darn happy. I said yes, obviously, but when Logan told me about your home life, it broke my heart. It really did. So I panicked, I started thinking of ways to show you what real family is like. That’s why I asked everybody to make an effort to talk to you. It’s why I got Logan to have you sleep over. It’s why I decided to get in the habit of calling you the same weird pet names I call everyone that I care about. I may have overcompensated a little, but I just wanted you to feel like you’re part of this family, because you are.”

Virgil met Patton’s warm brown eyes, at a loss for words. “Thank you,” he managed. “Thank you.” And then he had to set his coffee down, had to jump down from the counter, had to throw his arms around Patton and bury his face in his neck, breathe in his scent. He smelled like cologne, like wine, like pumpkin, like all the things a real father should smell like.

“Thank you, kiddo.”

Virgil felt a hand on his shoulder and peeked out to see Logan, smiling at him in approval and relief. In all the overflowing emotion, Virgil hadn’t even considered Logan, seeing his boyfriend and his father hugging in the kitchen on one of the most family-oriented days of the year.

“Ugh, what time is it?” Roman’s voice pierced the moment, low and rough. He shuffled past the now broken hug and picked up the mug from the counter, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He took a sip, and promptly made a gagging motion which was obviously dramatized, because it’s Roman. “Gah, whose water is this?”

“Uh, mine.” Virgil raised his hand, vaguely cautious of the consequences.

Roman’s groggy gaze fixated on Virgil. He didn’t break eye contact as he dumped the coffee straight into the sink, grabbed the pot, poured himself another cup, and sipped it. He ruffled Virgil’s hair as he headed back towards the living room. “Welcome to the family, Sir Broods-a-lot.”

Virgil looked around at his new family, full of smiles and hugs and nicknames and little thumb strokes and love. Okay, so that’s what Thanksgiving is supposed to feel like.

~

@ironwoman359

I don’t do all that much regular posting, but if you would like to be added to my general taglist, I would happily oblige and also appreciate the compliment!

[kayleigh-83]

Ask Meme

I got tagged by @zebrasims​ :)

Name: Kayleigh 

Nicknames: My initials are KK so some people call me that, really only at work though

Zodiac sign: Taurus, and I am the most Taurusy-Taurus who ever Taurused

Height: 5′3″

Orientation: straight 

Ethnicity: white 

Favorite fruit: apples and strawberries 

Favorite season: Summer! There’s something to love in every season but summer is my favourite, good energy, love the heat!

Favorite book series: Outlander, but I like many books and series, I’m a biiig bookworm.

Favorite flower: Lilacs, hydrangea, hyacinth

Favorite scent: Wow there are so many! I honestly don’t think I could choose. I love scented candles (I worked at Bath & Body Works for a short while and the obsession was truly born) but even then I choose a variety of scents. I love fresh, clean smelling ones, nature type scents, and some of the more warm/cozy vanilla-cinnamon type scents too. A lot!

Favorite color:  I don’t know that I have a particular favourite - I’m probably drawn to blues the most, at least in clothing, but I like every colour! 

Favorite animal: Always been somewhat partial to squirrels, but I really like every animal, like way too much. Dogs and cats of course. Roughly 75% of my Instagram feed is various animal accounts I follow - dogs, cats, pigs, bunnies, guinea pigs, hamsters, etc etc....

Coffee, tea, or hot cocoa: All, but probably in that order haha.. coffee the most, tea second, hot chocolate last (no one here calls it hot cocoa that I know of, just a regional thing)

Average sleep hours: 7-8 hours usually

Cat or dog person: BOTH! My goodness I don’t know how anyone could choose. Sadly I have none right now because I rent, but I always grew up with both.

Favorite fictional characters: Claire from Outlander is excellent.

Number of blankets you sleep with: one duvet, and one of those fuzzy/furry throw blankets as well

Dream trip: Well a dream trip would involve going to ALL the places in the world I want to go haha, so too many to list!

Blog created: No clue, this account used to be used for something else and then I stopped using it. Then I just resurrected it, deleted all the old stuff off my blog, and started posting new content!

Number of followers: 592 currently. but I honestly don’t know how much of that is current - I had something like 200-300 still on from my Tumblr’s previous and totally non Sim related incarnation. Probably half of my followers are from that era and don’t use their accounts anymore, or keep wondering why TS2 stuff keeps showing up on their dash XD So I would guesstimate for Sims followers, let’s call it maybe 300??? Who knows!! LOL

Time right now: right about 10 am

Last thing you googled: Greater than 2 Gig fix - was looking up something for Kiri’s research!

Fave music artist: I don’t have one particular favourite, but I like a pretty wide variety of music!

Song stuck in my head: All We Got by Chance the Rapper, but before that it was Church by Maren Morris (so you see what I mean by liking a wide variety LOL)

Last movie I watched: I can’t even remember, I don’t watch movies too often, mostly TV series!

Last TV show I watched: Star Trek DS9 

What I’m wearing right now: green sweat pants and a grey top - at home/comfy clothes!

The kind of stuff I post: Sims 2! LOL

Why did I choose my url: My name is Kayleigh, and I’ve always really liked the number 83 since I was a kid. I think most people would assume that’s the year I was born, but it’s not, I’m actually 5 years younger than that!

Gender: Female

Hogwarts house: I feel like I'm about 60% Hufflepuff and 40% Ravenclaw.

Pokémon team: No clue, my Pokemon days were when I was younger, I haven’t gotten into the current incarnation! 

Lucky number: 83 of course! Don’t know that it’s lucky but I like it.

Dream job: Huh I have no idea haha I do like my job, I think a big part of that is that I like my office/coworkers/bosses/particular work environment too though. That’s hugely important. But I like a job where my work is pretty self directed, and I have a regular schedule and tasks of my own to get through - did I mention I’m a Taurus? We don’t like change! I am an insurance broker by day, btw. Relationship status: single

Pets: none right now :( I’m too nervous to ask my landlords if they would bend the rules and let me have a cat, mostly because I actually hate putting other people in a position where they might feel bad for having to say no, more than how I would feel if the answer WAS no, because that wouldn’t surprise me. I can be overly sensitive to stuff like that sometimes.

Last song you listened to: Love on the Brain by Rihanna

Favorite TV Show: I love all the Star Treks (especially TNG/DS9/VOY as they all aired during my childhood and my parents watched most of them so they also get the benefit of having the nostalgia factor) but I never got into TOR, Mad Men is my ride or die, will watch it forever and ever and ever, have lots of others I have really really enjoyed but I’d say those ones get to be enshrined as true favourites.

First Fandom: Spice Girls probably haha I remember my cousin and I being around 6 or 7 when Wannabe first came out, and in the subsequent years we were pretty huge into them as I’m sure most girls our age were. We would have sleepovers and we’d cut up paper into small “pages”, draw Spice Girls on them, and staple or tape them together and make our own “Spice Girls Magazines”. Hahah! I also have to say I could count The Sims as an early fandom of mine too. My mom was always into Sims games when I was growing up, various versions of “SimCity”, I had “SimTown” which was a game that came out in the mid 90′s - sort of like “SimCity” for kids. When we got “SimCity” 3000 in 1999 and saw the trailer for the forthcoming game “The Sims”, we were pretty much in hysterics LOL. So it all started there and I never looked back!

I’m going to tag completely at random so if you have already done this, please ignore, and if you don’t want to go it, also please ignore! :p

@dramallamadingdang @arielle-celeste @eulaliasims @foxglovesims @littleblondesim and also ANYONE else who wants to do this! I’d keep going with specific tags but I already spent a silly amount of time on this hahaha :p