#march of time challenge

[historybunnny]

Sweet Amma awaiting a letter from her father 💌

[silverseaming]

Two new chickens have joined the Alcott household! Say hello to Snow, and rooster Bob! Dora remains Elisabeth's pampered favourite, but the opportunity to hatch their own chicks will help them grow their flock.

[hearthandhollow]

The March Of Time - A Historical Sims 4 Challenge

This challenge is set in North America and takes your sims through more than two centuries of history, from the early 1800’s all the way to the present day. Do your sims have what it takes to set out to the new world and build a homestead from the ground up? Will their bloodline survive the many wars and hardships to come?

This challenge is meant to take place over several generations, each facing their own unique hurdles and opportunities. The main goal is to have your founding sim’s descendants survive all the way until the current day, but there will be many twists and turns along the way.

Full Rulebook Here

Mod The Sims Page

If you have any feedback or suggestions please reach out, I'm all ears! And if you give my challenge a go and want to share your story, please use the hashtag #march of time challenge so I can see it! I'll also be sharing some photos and updates about my own playthrough as I go. Here's a couple photos (paintings) of my founding sims, Kaatje and Johan Lund on their homestead in 1800.

[sforzesco]

2025's ides of march illustration!

I've been doing one a year since the 2022 presidential election*, so. you know! keeping up with the thematic tradition. sometimes politicians compare themselves to caesar crossing the rubicon and you just gotta. process that. do an annual re read of a bunch of different literature that use the ides as their stage. go through commentary on dante's divine comedy. watch a production of julius caesar. for unrelated reasons, ofc.

(*other countries besides america have elections)

it's also funny how people will debate whether or not the optimates/conspirators/whatever were ungrateful assholes in my inbox whenever I post one of these, like the ides of march hasn't been a well established narrative that people have been using to explore other stuff for centuries. take it to an academic conference! we have empire and autocracy and absolutely batshit press conferences to discuss!!

and as always, some reading material! for fun and whimsy. for more on brutus as an established allegorical figure:

The Brutus Revival: Parricide and Tyrannicide During The Renaissance, Mafredi Piccolomini

and on roman conspiracies narratives

Conspiracy Narratives in Roman History, V.E. Pagan

[sariphantom]

Rise March Days 1 and 3: Gold + Underwater

I had a rough start so for now, I'm gonna combine some prompts together in order to play catch-up.

[mortiscausa]

March to Camelot: an arthurian palette challenge for march 2024

When: March 1st to 31st Rules: The objective is to try to draw something Arthurian inspired by each word prompt using the palette provided. This could be anything from a full illustration to a character design. You have 5 days to complete each prompt, except for the last prompt where you get 6 days. If you have any questions, please feel free to send an ask. Why: I've been running a B5 palette challenge over on my fanart blog for the past couple of years and thought it'd be fun to do something similar with Arthurian Legend, even if it ended up just being me doing it. :') Finally, remember to tag your work #march to camelot or @ me so I can reblog and share your work. Happy drawing!

[foreverinthepagesofhistoryy]

Historical Fashion Challenge 2025

Day 14: 1850s-1860s paintings by Franz Xavier Winterhalter

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[krii-bolts]

DAY 27 === GHOST

GHOST! Day 27 prompt

Very bright color background, i know, but honestly fits tbh. Probably shouldve just matched the inner color with the line art but oh well

included ribs in Ghost Doll's design tho! fits quite well

DAY 27 OVER! Prompt page below cut

[randomweirdcat5]

Day 3

Day 3 Donnie for @novastar-creations rottmnt challenge

Is it good? No absolutely not. Is it all I’ve got? Yes. once again sorry for the poor quality.

[historybunnny]

Once Luigi had left, Amma's nights became restless. The worry over the unknown made her feel dreadful, and she was lucky to catch a wink of sleep.

When she couldn't handle being alone for a moment longer, she would go into her mother's room for comfort. More often than not, she found her mother was awake too.

Her mother never uttered a word of disdain about the war, and if the same worries troubled her, she never said. But she always seemed eager to invite Amma into her lap for comfort.

Amma's imagination ran wild, and she spewed out every imagined scenario that resulted in fatalities. While she rambled on about the pseudo-deaths of their loved ones, her mother stroked her hair affectionately, never stopping to interrupt.

Amma was grateful for her mother's resilience. Without her strength to carry her through, she would have surrendered herself to the anxiety.

If ever she were to become a mother, she hoped she was just like her own.

[silverseaming]

For a while, Elisabeth had been waking up nauseous and exhausted, but it wasn't until she began to show that the prospect of being with child even occurred to her. While the thought of having a child in their tiny cabin, far away from both their families, was daunting, both she and Thomas were excited for a new addition to their household.

[hearthandhollow]

The Lund's Legacy - Chapter One - March of Time Challlenge

Introducing the Lunds, my founders for my current March of Time challenge playthrough. Here's how the first couple decades have treated them:

1800 - 1819

Kaatje and Johan Lund arrived in North America in the winter of 1800. Their new home, a small but sturdy shack twenty miles from the nearest outpost, is nestled in a vast woodland they've named Ravenwood. They're the very first settlers in the area, and although these lands are very different from what they're used to back in the Netherlands, somehow they feel this is where they're meant to be.

Their first few years are spent hard at work. The soil is turned over, a garden is built, and every day the two of them set out to forage and hunt what they can from the surrounding woods. Eventually Johan even makes the long journey to town to buy their first cows and chickens.

The farm was well under way when Kaatje learned she was with child, but sadly baby Anna didn't survive. Kaatje blamed herself for working too hard around the farm. Despite the tradgedy, the two of them welcomed their first healthy child, Isak, into the world in 1804, and soon after a baby girl named Märta.

Life went on at the farm for a few more years, until the War of 1812 broke out, and Johan made the difficult decision to enlist as a soldier to defend their new home. Kaatje was left to run the farm alone, with only her two children for help.

Soon after he left, Kaatje discovered she was once again with child. She wondered if she would see Johan again before the babe came, or if he would even make it home at all. Her worst fears were realized one morening, when soldiers brought his body home to her. Her third child was born in a daze of grief. Little Matthijs was the spitting image of his father. Her eldest son Isak was her rock throughout this time, keeping her focused and busy when she needed it most.

The coming years were difficult for the family, but Isak grew into a responsible young man and picked up the pieces left behind by his father. Kaatje decided there was still too much work for the two of them, especially with another toddler to raise. She told Isak it was time he start thinking about marriage. A couple years later, she'd found a match for him, with a young woman who's family had just moved nearby.

Although Isak had never met her, he didn't have allot of options. She was the only woman his age within a two days journey, and even then...

They were wed in the summer of 1819, under the branches of the chestnut tree where they'd laid his father to rest. Although they don't know each other well yet, Isak could see she was... a little troubled by the arrangement. She seemed to be putting on a brave face, but he could tell she was worried. Hoping it might help her settle in, Isak invited her family to stay with them at the farm until she felt more at home.

So here we are with the 1820's on the horizon and a new generation taking over already. I didn't expect to be saying goodbye to my founder so soon, but that's just how it goes with a challenge like this, haha.

I'm not great with taking photos in game, there were allot of moments I wish I'd captured. Next time I'll try to do better though!

[ckbookish]

Batman and Nightwing Bingo?

Why not. Let the games begin...

[lightineventide]

Top 100 Favourite Songs Of All Time: Day 92

Film score pieces count as songs, okay?

[oopsallturtles]

Day 5 Leo prompt for @novastar-creations rise art challenge! I know I'm not gonna have much time today, and writing was mentioned as an option, so I'm gonna cheat a little bit with another WIP. So here's an exclusive sneak peek (✨ooo fancyyyy✨) at the first 1k words of the fic I am currently working on.

CW: blood, violence, Leo angst

---

It was cold.

That may have been one of Leo’s stupider observations, given the circumstances. There were far more pressing matters at hand—namely the recently thwarted, yet still heavily armored and pissed off alien who loomed over him, aiming to press him into the ground.

“You…you’ve ruined EVERYTHING!” The Krang’s fury reverberated through the gray emptiness around them. “And now, my wrath will be reserved for you alone.”

Leo remained still. A small shiver ran through his spine.

“You think you’ve won, you wretched, little, pest!”

Metal fists swung into him at every word. Blood pooled in the back of his mouth. He knew the only reason he didn’t feel it bubble and catch in his lungs was because he couldn’t draw a breath in the first place. The Krang’s final hit landed and Leo felt his chest crack under the pressure in much the same way as the crumbling ground beneath them. They fell what felt like several stories down through the dried husk of an old Krang ship and landed hard. Pain shot through Leo’s back, the impact knocking any remaining wind out of him.

Leo turned his head, letting the blood spill from his mouth and free his airway in case his lungs ever decided to restart through the empty burn in his chest, all while one stupid thought overlapped the rest:

The air was even colder down here.

God, Leo hated the cold.

Leo twitched his numb fingers and his eyes fell on the picture miraculously still held in his outstretched hand. The photo was creased and dirty, but despite the abuse, Leo could still make out the image of his family. Everyone he loved in one 3x5 portrait. Through blurring eyes, he shifted his thumb. It covered up his own cheesing face in the picture perfectly.

And everyone else kept on smiling.

Happy.

Safe.

“WIPE THAT GRIN OFF YOUR FACE!”

Krang struck again and Leo heard a crack. This time he wasn’t even sure if it was his shell or the ground beneath them because all he could focus on was the picture as it fell out of his hand, tumbling a few feet away out of his reach.

Leo felt the cold invade further in a rush through his veins.

His lungs finally moved enough to gasp in a breath. Though he wasn’t sure if the resulting burn was any better than the complete lack of oxygen, Leo focused on using that breath to scramble onto his plastron and drag himself forward in as much of a crawl as he could manage. His arms knocked a path through dirt, rock, and whatever other debris lived on the rotten ground of the Prison Dimension.

Leo stretched out his hand. Just one inch closer—they’re right there.

Strong claws locked onto his leg.

“Do you think you can get away from me?”

The grip tightened.

Leo gave one last push forward with his knee and reached out as far as he could. His fingers raked the photo safely into his fist as he was dragged back so sharply he thought his leg would fall off at the joint like a salamander’s tail. He almost wished it would. His plastron scraped over the rough surface and something sharp stung his thigh. He slid to a stop just as quickly and was forced back onto his shell to look up at the Krang above him. Leo tried to move, but Krang’s foot smashed down on Leo’s wrist, opposite from the hold on his ankle, effectively pinning him. The krang stared down over him.

“I’ve spent 1,000 years here. There’s nowhere for you to go that I won’t find.”

Krang pressed his foot heavily against Leo’s hand. With his fist balled up to clutch the photo, he felt his bones grinding together where they shouldn’t be. But Leo only gripped tighter, blinking against the additional sting of tears as the Krang’s voice taunted over him.

“How long do you think you’ll survive?”

Leo turned his head at the sudden punctuating crunch of his hand, short breaths hissing through gritted teeth. His eyes landed on the drag marks he made through the ground. And the glint of debris he’d unburied.

In that instant, Leo made up his mind. He was going to die in here. But it was not going to be under the Krang’s foot. He won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Better question,” Leo dragged the words as best he could through his burning chest as he glared up at the Krang, daring him to meet his eye—and not notice his free hand that inched beside him through the dirt. “How many times can you hear Bohemian Rhapsody on repeat?”

The look Krang gave him was almost comical. As Leo’s fingers brushed against a sharp edge, a fraction of his mind wondered at the possibility of the Queen song being some sort of hilarious slang in Krang’s home world. Probably best not to ask.

“Because if the answer is less than 35, then you’re the one stuck here with me.” Leo gripped the piece of shrapnel in his fist, watching the rising glow of his markings reflect in Krang’s shocked eyes as ninpō flowed from him, transforming the metal scrap into a fully realized katana. “Trust me. Donnie and I used to be roommates.”

Leo swung the blade, cutting into Krang’s grip on his arm. He wasn’t sure how the Krang’s gooey little legs were arranged in the mechsuit to make it work, but the cry of pain confirmed his sword got something. Krang reeled back enough for Leo to pry himself up, aiming for the last hold on his leg.

But Krang’s clawed hand gripped Leo’s entire forearm, stopping his swing. Leo strained against the hold, but the adrenaline screaming through his system couldn’t outweigh the exhausted wear on his body and his ninpō flickered out. Krang’s foot slammed onto his chest, caging his body between claws as the sword was ripped from his grasp far too easily. Leo instinctively grabbed at the claw, trying uselessly to counter the pressure at his throat. The krang took his time, eyes roaming considerately over the blade in his hand that hadn’t existed moments before.

“Hmm…you’re just full of pretty little tricks, aren’t you?” As Leo choked on the ground, he could only watch with growing dread when Krang turned the same slow considering expression onto him. “But that’s not all you can do, now is it?”

---

[foreverinthepagesofhistoryy]

Historical Fashion Challenge 2025

Day 1: Medieval Era

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆