#than 1890s

[choccy-milky]

modern AU seb and clora's first interaction 📘📗 (and by modern AU i actually mean super trope-filled high school romance set in the 80's/90's LOL)

[marzipanandminutiae]

[sees 1890s winning] American Duchess product development team unblock me I just want to talk

view the graphics below for a basic guide

[antiquatedsimmer]

Doyle Legacy 1890s - 1900s LOOKBOOK

Helena Doyle Harrington 1890s - 1900s

Babies first Lookbook!😀

Helena's upbringing was marked by poverty, stemming from the loss of her mother. This hardship led her to turn to prostitution for survival. However, her future husband Eddy, rescued her from a dangerous encounter with a violent client, allowing her to leave that life behind.

Together, they transformed an abandoned hunting shed into a functioning farm for their family.

Known affectionately as "Dove," Which is a pet name given to her since she worked as a painted lady. The color red became symbol for Helena since she adopted it as her signature, using the color to accentuate her vibrant hair and attract clientele during her time in the sex work industry.

Even after transitioning from a sex worker to a devoted wife I kept that color in mind each time she got an updated wardrobe.

The Harringtons lived poorly which is also why some of Helena's outfits seem out of date for time, she utilized her knowledge of previous decades sewing patterns to make clothes for herself.

I used up every outfit slot in CAS and I'd rather not overwhelm myself so instead I chose my favorites to share!

CC LISTED BELOW THE CUT

Thank you creators who put a lot of time and effort into making content then allowing all of us to enjoy it in our games as well! :)

If anything turns out to be credited incorrectly don't be afraid to contact me and I will correct it!

Helena Details: Teeth | Lipstick | Eyelashes | Eyeshadow | Non-Default Eyes | Eyebrows | Skintone ( Soft Rose Skin ) | Lip Preset ( N3 ) | Eye Preset ( 3 ) | Body Preset ( 4 )

The Painted Lady: Dress | Dress Fringe Acc | Hair | Boots | Torn Stockings

Soiled Dove Work Uniform: Hair | Bodice | Skirt | Boots | Torn Stockings

Everyday: Hair | Top | Wool Socks | Boots

Housework: Apron | Hair | Top | Skirt | Hair | Dirt Overlay | Wool Socks

Going Out: Dress | Hair | Hat | Gloves ( Basegame )

Wedding: Gloves | Hair | Veil | Dress | Heels

Formal: Dress | Hair | Heels | Hat

Party: Dress (The Eloise Dress)| Heels | Hat

Underwear: Outfit is BelleBoudoirSet by GildedGhosts(orig link is broken) | Stockings are Basegame

Sleepwear: Nightgown | Hair

Swimming: Bathing Dress | Shoes | Hair | Tights

Hot Weather: Lace Shawl | Boater Hat | Bodice & Skirt | Boots | Hair | Dirt Overlay

Hot Weather: Hair | Dress & Apron | Boots

Fall Everyday: Hair | Boots | Hair | Wool Socks | Fingerless gloves | Blouse | Skirt

Chilly Weather: Hair | Sweater Dress | Boots | Wool Socks

Winter: Headscarf | Boots | Wool Socks | Shawl & Apron | Scarf | Gloves | Hair

CC Creators:

@dzifasims @magic-bot @vintagesimstress @the-melancholy-maiden @kedluu @twisted-cat @remussirion @sentate @northernsiberiawinds @evoxyr @obscurus-sims @chere-indolente @linzlu @saurussims @uxji @simlotus @stamsim @gilded-ghosts @simstomaggie @dancemachinetrait @twentiethcenturysims @waxesnostalgic @peebsplays @rustys-cc @eirflower @dallasgirl79 @acanthus-sims @happylifesims @satterlly @dissiasims @historicalsimslife @zurkdesign @clumsyalienn @mlyssimblr

[silverseaming]

At the harbour there’s noise everywhere — hurried rushes of footsteps, snatches of conversation, the voices of street-sellers rising above the everyday din with cries of “Fresh whelks! Fresh whel—”, “Apples and pears! Fresh today!”, “Roses, sir, roses for your Mis—!”. Along the quayside cargo masters bark instructions to their men, and crates clatter earthward from the decks or are borne aloft on the shoulders of brawny dockers. Beneath it all is the sound of the shipyard, a constant beat of hammers that Kit can feel in his chest.

Kit pushes on through the crowds, buffeted along by the busy current of fellow humanity. He wishes dearly for the open fields or leafy avenues of Brindleton. There the air is sweet, not thick with the salty seaweed taste, the people don’t rush, don’t crowd together, shout, or jostle.

A journey of bumping shoulders and muttered apologies washes him up on the doorstep of The Lermond’s Cove company, as the modest brass plate beside the door proclaims. The building is smaller than the grand shipping offices, tucked on the end of the harbour frontage, but it’s smart enough, and offers welcome shelter from the bustle outside. A small bell rings above the door as Kit makes his way inside.

“Hello, sir.” The young woman greeting him sits behind a solitary desk, a large ledger arrayed in front of her. The frugality of the outside of the building is continued on the inside, with the only ornaments to the small room besides its occupant being a few framed charts and maps. The whole arrangement gives the impression of being newly established. “How can I help you?”

“I, er, have an appointment with Mr Allen,” Kit says, suddenly abashed.

After checking an entry in the ledger, the young woman gestures down the hallway.

“It’s the first door on the left, sir.”

Making his way to the indicated door, Kit hesitates a second before knocking. He can hardly turn back now, with the secretary watching in the entryway.

His knock is answered by a curt “Enter.”

The man behind the desk rises to greet Kit, extending a hand over the tabletop. He’s smartly dressed, in a well-made suit of the latest fashion. The clothes look new — too new, perhaps. The thick callouses beneath Kit’s hand betray the lifetime of hard work that the suit tries hard to erase.

“Fred Allen,” The man says, by way of introduction. Releasing Kit’s hand, he gestures to the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “You must be Calloway.”

“That’s right, sir. As I said in my letter, Mr Miller up in Brindleton heard you might have opportunities going for someone willing to sell their crop.”

“Well, he heard correctly, I guess, though I have to say I wasn’t expecting anyone round here so soon. How’s about you tell me what set up you’ve got going, and then I’ll think about it?” says Allen.

“I’ve got about two-hundred acres just outside Brindleton, wheat and potatoes mainly. Only took over two years ago, but the last two harvests have done well.” Kit picks at a loose thread at the edge of his jacket, wishing he hadn’t done his collar up so tightly.

“You got any hands, or is it a one man show?” Allen asks as he sifts through a stack of papers, running a finger down a column of figures.

“Just me at the moment, sir, but some of the local lads help out around harvest. There’s room for expansion, though, if we come to an agreement.”

“Hm.” Allen seems to be considering, rubbing a large hand across his coarse chin. The more Kit looks at him, the more he struggles to see the businessman through the farmer — or is it sailor? At any rate, Allen’s tanned skin and deep crow’s feet speak of a life that, until recently, was spent working out of doors. The tailored clothes seem almost like a costume. It’s reassuring, perhaps, to know that Allen would understand something of the toil put into producing the crop.

Eventually Allen reaches the end of his deliberations with a great sigh.

“Look, son, I won’t pretend this isn’t somewhat of a cowboy venture, and that I haven’t got as much capital to be free with as certain larger companies. But I think we understand each other, and on account of your being the first to come and see me, I’m willing to give you an offer. I’ll take half your next wheat harvest, and I’ll give you two dollars a bushel if you’re willing to shake on it now.”

“I’m more than willing, sir, thank you,” Kit says. There’s a weight that’s lifted from his shoulders with Allen’s words, the anxious knot in his stomach loosening a little. Somehow, he’s managed to grab hold of the life ring thrown to him, and for a minute the hard work of hauling to shore can be forgotten.

Arriving home that night, dusty from the road, Kit feels lighter than he has done in months. For once he looks at the farm and sees it as something beautiful, rather than a never-ending source of work. There’s a little moonlight dappling through the trees, outlining the farmhouse against the night sky behind it.

For a moment, he leans against the fence of the cow-pen, taking slow lungfuls of the cool night air. Then he turns towards the house, and the faint glow behind the front door that draws his weary feet over the threshold.

Meg’s standing at the kitchen table, placing the finishing touches on a freshly baked cake. From the untidy tendrils of hair she keeps trying to blow from her face and the flour down her apron, it’s been a hard-fought battle with the sponge. The weak firelight from the stove behind her casts her in a rosy glow, and oh, it’s enough to knock the air from Kit’s chest.

“You’re up late,” he murmurs, giving into the urge to take her in his arms. Her body is warm against his, and she smells slightly of strawberry jam.

“I had to remake the sponge,” Meg sighs, finally pushing the finished cake away and leaning into his touch. “And I split the cream. It’s all a horrible mess.”

“Well hang the cake then, because I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up.” Gently Kit spins her round to face him, pulling her close.

“I take it your meeting went well?” She smiles.

“I think so. He’ll take half of next year’s wheat, and for a good price as well.”

“Oh, you wonderful man,” Meg says softly.

Kit’s reply is to lean down and kiss her. Even though he’s only been gone a day, it feels like he’s waited months for that kiss, for Meg’s hands on his shoulders and lips on his. Without thinking, he lifts her onto the table, hands finding her waist and hair.

“Christopher James Calloway, if you want to carry on with this nonsense then you will unhand me and let me clear up before we go upstairs!” Meg pulls away, trying to sound cross, but the barely concealed laughter rather ruins the effect. “I love you very much, but I will not ruin this cake for you.”

“Consider me told,” Kit laughs.

[peppermint-whiskers]

AND THEY ARE DONE!!

My little cutie pies 🥰🥰 They have no idea what's coming to them!

[mikimeiko]

Bodies | Miniseries (2023), Paul Tomalin

[clove-pinks]

The perfect gift for your budding polar explorer: Game of to the North Pole by Air Ship, new for 1897!

The game is possibly inspired by Swedish explorer Salomon Andrée's 1897 attempt to reach the North Pole by balloon (which did not go well). Presumably it was made before Andrée's grim fate was known.

Is this Greenland (because it's green), or Svalbard? Either way, the objective appears to be nestled in a verdant mountain valley. Just like the real North Pole!

[hood-ex]

I read an Agatha Christie book to analyze the way she broke down a mystery so maybe I could apply that to some Dick situation, but now I'm just mad because someone completely unexpected was the murderer instead of the two family members I wanted to be the murderer.

[practically-an-x-man]

I'm really eager to start writing more for Spider and Vivienne because, being from horror movies, the tone of their pieces are a lot more pure horror and I'm eager to write it

[luvsimskaos]

With Casper growing into a teen, the parents decide to leave tending the crops to the kids. The parents want their children to be self-sufficient and to one day be able to handle their own crops one day. The teens don't mind but Daphne does drag her feet, not being a fan of any work.

The parents do he leftover work. Ishmael deals with the animals while Sable does the housework. It's work their both used to but older age makes the work slower and slightly harder.

Cato, as usually, is stuck on the sidelines. Growing into a teen has made his health any better. If anything, to be honest, aging up has it worse. He feels weaker and gets more coughs than before. Due to that he spends a lot of his time sitting and watching his family work.

When the day is over with the child asleep, Sable and Ishmael talk about their life, children, and possible future plans. Sable tells Ishmael about Cato's struggles and suggest keeping an eye on him. They talk and laugh over their children's past antics. But then their conversation takes a darker turn.

Both know that they won't be able to get off the Waring plantation property but they have high hopes for their children. They know Elijah has a crush on Cela Mason, the only daughter of a well-off widow so if Elijah is able to marry her he would have a good future, while Daphne would marry into another household, they just have to make sure she marries a good man. SO their biggest worries are the twins. Casper hasn't shown much interest in other girls but with his ages, he's still young, but with Cato, would anyone be willing to marry someone so sickly. They decide to have Cato focus on his education and hope he'll be able to find a high paying career.

They finally decide to end the conversation, with Sable giving Ishmael a kiss goodnight. The two drift off to sleep, imagining a better future for their children.

[daguerreotyping]

Tintype of two men tenderly embracing in their bathing suits before a painted beachside backdrop, circa 1890. Source: Dear Friends: American Photographs of Men Together, 1840-1918 by David Deitcher.

[weirdraccoon]

Sebastian *finding Tom and Harry in MC's secret basement*: And what do we have here.

Harry *blushing and arranging his clothes*

Tom *glaring at his dad*: We were looking for my notes on Alchemy. I think I left them here last night when I was helping Mom with that thing.

Sebastian *smirking*: I know we look good, Tom, but we're all older than even Dumbledore. I know all the tricks.

Harry *acting cool*: Really? What's your secret Mr. Sallow?

Sebastian: Dark Magic.

Harry: ...

Tom *rolling his eyes*: Don't tell Sirius.

Harry: Wait, he's not lying!?

[redladydeath]

why has no one made a game of life animatic with the hazbin sinners

[raspberriesandstrawberries]

Based on a Singer Sargent painting

[crimsonimpasto]

Edvard Munch, Love and Pain/Vampire, 1895

[gayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy]

I've only finished the second chapter and The Picture of Dorian Gray is more gay than gay sex