#set in 1800s

[gayhenrycreel]

gotta say, theres something really weird about how online queer spaces pretend that intersex people dont exist. even american queer rights orgs seem to ignore us. and then i see kiwi sites on queer communities and theres comparatively a lot of intersex stuff. i go to a local nurses office and intersex people are included in a pamphlet on representation in books. every queer rights org has a link to to sites for intersex rights. am i crazy or is america falling behind? its quite... concerning

[gifs-masterlist]

Set in the 1800s...

A/N: All gifs are tagged to their source via “Credit”, or if it has been edited by me under “original gif found here”. (Please note: This is the link from which I found the gif, not necessarily where it originated.) “Credit” means I’ve linked where I found the gif, but the original link is broken. If your gif has been used and you would like it taken down, please message me. I will gladly remove it. Thank you.

Mine  #doctor quinn, medicine woman  #reaction gifs  #  #tv  #made in  #  #set in  #genre  #slice-of-life  #drama  #medical  #romance  #family  #old west  #historicals  #medium  #live  #episodic  #network  #american  #  #(original gif found here)  #(but i resized)  #(made with ezgif)

[hapalopus]

Reminder to all Europeans: Your "national" traditions were probably invented in the 1800s

[larrylimericks]

12Jul24

Three hundred and fifty-six days Since last we saw Harry on stage, But tonight a duet! For Ms. Nicks’ Hyde Park set, And a Songbird who’s now flown away.

[escapismsworld]

Who wants to hunt some vampires with me?

Vampire Kill Sets Of the 19th century

In the era of the 19th century, characterized by superstitions and fascination for the supernatural, Europe was haunted by a wave of vampirism. This was mainly the case in Eastern Europe influenced by ancient folk legends and newer literary works such as Bram Stoker's "Dracula" It was during this era that the so-called vampire killing kits were also created.

A typical vampire killing kit contained a number of items that were thought to be effective against vampires. This was often included: A wood peg and a hammer to poke the vampire through the heart. Silver balls or bullets, since silver was considered effective against evil creatures. A crucifix and holy water as religious symbols against evil. Garlic cloves that were believed to repel vampires. A mirror to expose a vampire as they thought they didn't have a reflection. Medical instruments to autopsy the vampire and ensure it's dead.

These sets are believed to have been made for travelers who travel through areas where vampirism was widespread. The kits were often kept in finely crafted boxes and often had a handmade appearance indicating their production as special items. While there are many reports of this vampire panic in Eastern Europe and elsewhere, it is unclear how widespread use of these vampire killing kits actually was.

Some experts believe they were manufactured as curiosities for wealthy tourists, while others believe they were actually used to defend against vampires. These days, these vampire killing sets are sought-after collectibles and can be found in museums or auctions. They offer a fascinating insight into the beliefs and fears of the 19th Century.

[daguerreotyping]

Carte de visite of a pair of well-dressed gentlemen walking away arm in arm, Galashiels, Scotland, c. 1870s

[cringeborg]

AF Righteous Riding Habit - Regency Conversion Set pt. 4

Merry Christmas! Here's a conversion of this riding habit by @yandereplumsim, because it's a beautiful dress and we definitely need more riding habits for TS4. If you have Horse Ranch, it'll go great with @janesimsten's Sidesaddle Mod.

BGC

Comes in all 16 swatches of the original

Tagged as feminine

Found in the Long Dresses and Outerwear categories

Athletic, Cold Weather

Polycount: 2990

All LODs

Color tagged

Display index by decade

Disabled for random

Download (SFS)

Alt Download (Mediafire)

[paperleef]

The week is complete! Even though I was very late with 6.

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

Sugar bowl, late 1800s.

[dysabria]

just read a fic set in the late 2000s with the tag “period-typical homophobia” which absolutely sent me because it’s so true but also i usually only see that tag on historical aus. this particular fic was just the epitome of comphet no homo culture from 2008 though so i cannot fault the tag in any way

[pilesofpillows]

Won’t You Bring Me Whiskey? || Attoye Drabble || Western AU

Warnings: Hats off to Cowboy Attuma 🤠

Tags: @mamajankyy @xenokattz @tvreadsandsleep @ariyannah @iccedays @blissdoutbyattuma @umber-cinders @mickimomo @dontruinmymorning @princess-of-gondor

“And here I was, thinking you’d forgotten me.”

Okoye acknowledged his presence without ever looking up from the papers strewn across her desk, right where Shuri had said she’d be.

Attuma smiled at her from the post he’d taken up against her office doorframe.

“Darling, I think I could take a hoof to the head and still remember every damn detail about you,” he replied with a soft laugh.

Her writing paused, and she spared him the briefest glance before returning to her work, amusement dancing on her lips. “Flatterer.”

“Maybe so,” Attuma conceded, standing to his full height and flashing her a charming smirk. He strode over to the large oak desk and leaned close enough to smell the lingering scent of orchids and amber on her skin and see the bright glint in her dark eyes, “but never a liar.”

She hummed in response, lips quirking up, and continued her writing. “Staying long?”

The question was a familiar one, and he thought he heard something like hope in her tone. But he ignored it just the same as the pang of disappointment that flashed through him, knowing the answer.

“Just until morning. We leave at first light,” he said quietly, rounding the desk and leaning against it as he admired her. Even after almost a year of this— whatever this was —he still found himself awestruck by her. From the sharp arch of her brow to the wide set of her nose, the deep bow of her full lips and elegant column of her neck, the sleek lines of her collar bones and supple curves of her breasts and hips, Attuma could spend hours cataloging her beauty.

He had.

“Tell me something,” Okoye started as she finished scrawling a few numbers in a ledger and interrupted his musing. “What does it say that your dog found her way here before you did?”

She chuckled at his questioning hum and closed her ledger, storing her pen. Then, she pushed her chair back, nodding to the black-and-white animal napping under her desk.

Attuma glanced down and snorted as Yawri sleepily blinked one eye open. “Comfortable down there?”

She sniffed at him, then crawled from under the desk, yawning and stretching as she went and placed her head in Okoye’s lap, preening as the woman began to scratch her behind the ears.

“You’re an awfully spoiled thing, aren’t you?” Attuma admonished playfully, shaking his head as her tail began wagging from Okoye’s continued attentions. He was suffering from a unique sort of madness where he found himself jealous of his own dog. “but I suppose you’ve got your priorities in order.”

Okoye shot him a dazzling smile lined with mischief. “Why Mr. Almehen, are you implying I’m a priority to you?”

Attuma froze for a moment, biting his tongue to stop the answer from spilling out. She always left him floundering, on the edge of laying out every secret his soul held. Gunfights held less danger, and yet—

His mouth curled into a dimpled grin as he replied, “No need for implication, Ms. Khubana. You occupy every spare thought I have.”

The admission earned him a playful arch of her brow, and she stood after stroking her hand through Yawri’s fur once more. Her eyes remained locked on him, and her skirts swished softly as she danced around the dog to close the short distance between them. His hands moved of their own accord, winding around her waist the moment she was within arm’s reach and pulling her into his chest. Okoye didn’t object; she simply traced her hands up his arms and settled them on his shoulders.

“Every spare thought?”

Her eyes studied him carefully, compelling the answer before there was thought to refuse.

“Mm-hmm.”

She pushed up on her toes, nudging his nose with her own, and something sweet on her breath danced across his lips.

“What about the occupied ones?”

Nimble fingers mapped the veins of his neck before burying themselves in his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut as she began massaging the base of his skull.

“Hm?”

His errant hands tightened around her waist and drifted down to the warm skin of her exposed back.

“Do I occupy your other thoughts? Even the busy ones?”

His eyes shot open, finding hers immediately. Dark eyes entranced and entrapped him, and Attuma drowned in twin pools of brown richer than the ripest cacao.

“Yes.”

His confession was rewarded with a kiss this time, and Attuma found himself uncaring for self-preservation.

Slow and searing, Okoye kissed him until he was drunk with desire and the whiskey that lingered on her lips. He kissed her back fervently, moving his mouth over hers until his mind spun from the lack of oxygen. The hand in his hair tightened as he pulled back, and he cupped her cheek with one hand, resting his forehead on hers as they breathed in tandem.

Orchids. Amber. Whiskey.

Okoye.

He never wanted to leave.

~plus venire~

A/N: I got bored and drunk and I’ve been watching a lot of Yellowstone and this has been in my drafts for… a while. Just a lil bit though I might circle back later... excuse my rambling in the tags

[venesins]

Tired mechanic Dust..

I should probably throw some mood-boards for each character together, would anyone be interested in those?

[teasetsotw]

--- Designer/Manufacturer: Vienna Manufactory [X] Region: Vienna, Austria Time period: 1800

[lulublack90]

Prompt 25 - Criminal AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 25, word count 857

Sirius, wrapped in his brand-new wool cloak, sauntered down the street, perusing the wears of the local sellers. It was market day, and the locals were out in their droves. Normally, Sirius wouldn’t deem to mix with the riff-raff, but after the stifling morning of lessons and the lecture from his parents about upholding the family name, he’d needed to escape. To lose himself for a while. 

Out here amongst the lesser mortals, he could pretend he wasn’t the heir to the most prestigious family in the country. Even the royals couldn’t hold a beacon to the power and respect garnered by the House of Black. 

He breathed in the putrid smell of the lower classes and revelled in the freedom. He’d just spotted a shabby-looking pie shop and debated braving the questionable-looking meat when a tall man with a face lashed with scars knocked into his side. 

“Sorry, excuse me,” The man mumbled hurriedly before continuing down the street. 

Now, Sirius was many things, but a fool he was not. He checked where his coin purse had been secure in his pocket, and of course, it was gone. 

“Hey, you! Come back here!” He bellowed down the street, his anger rippling through. The man glanced over his shoulder and took off at a full run, his long legs an advantage over Sirius’s shorter ones, but only for so long. 

Sirius had lived his entire life in a saddle, pushing himself and his horses faster and faster for longer and longer. He was built for endurance. His well-muscled thighs were still pumping as the thief began to tire. 

The thief clearly knew the streets well, but so did Sirius, having come here many times over the years to escape. He followed the man down every twisting, turning alley until the lanky being took a wrong turn and trapped himself in a dead end, his back up against the wall.

Sirius slowed to a long stride and casually leant against the narrow passageway in front of the exhausted man. He extended his arm and raised his brow. The thief sighed, threw the purse to his waiting hand and slumped to the floor, breathing heavily. It was then that Sirius noticed how skinny he was and how ragged his thin clothes were. 

“You do this often, then?” Sirius asked sternly, trying to get a feel for the man. The man looked up, shocked to see Sirius still there watching him. He pulled his thin clothes around him tighter and scowled at the brown puddle against the brickwork. 

“No,” He muttered. “You looked like an easy target.” His eyes snapped up to look straight at Sirius. “Clearly not.” He spat onto the ground. “Why are you still here? Get the Bobbys if you want. I’m in no condition to move now.” 

Sirius watched his chest heave with each laboured breath and sighed. For some godforsaken reason, he couldn’t leave the half-starved vagrant.

“You got someone waiting for you?” He asked. The thief flinched. 

“Yes,” He said, and Sirius knew it for the lie it was. This man had nothing and no one. 

“You good with your hands?” He questioned further. Those warm brown eyes dropped and stared beneath Sirius’s cloak. The man began to crawl forward and was reaching towards Sirius when Sirius realised what was happening. “No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He gently pushed the man’s hand away from the buttons on his trousers. “We need a groundsman to tend to the flowerbeds and whatnot. Keep the grass cut, walls intact, that sort of thing. There’s a small hut and a salary with the job. If you want it, of course.” He’d started babbling, so he stopped himself. The brown eyes darkened. 

“What’s the catch?” He rasped from the floor in front of Sirius. 

“Nothing, no catch. Just don’t tell my parents this is where we met.” Sirius panicked for a second. His parents would have the man killed if they knew where he’d come from.

“You live with your parents?” The man snorted but stopped quickly, catching himself. 

“I’m in a different wing,” Sirius explained. He held his hand out to the crouching man. “Sirius Black, heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.” The man gawped. Sirius motioned with his hand for the other man to take it. The man hesitated before slowly accepting it. Sirius helped him haul himself to his feet. “And you are?” He prompted when the man didn’t reciprocate. 

“Remus Lupin. I don’t have a fancy title to go with it.” He said blandly. Sirius threw his head back and laughed. 

“Well, Remus,” He said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “The first thing we’re going to do is get a hot meal into you, and then we’ll pick out some new clothes, but the main thing you need, my new friend, is a bath, because and I do mean to be rude here, you smell worse than the Thames.” He softened his words with a smile and a wink before he turned on his heel, Remus following close behind him as they reentered the bustling streets of London.  

[folktaylor]

regency era wenclair

[awkward-sultana]

(Almost) Every Costume Per Episode + Kate Sharma’s blue gown and blue velvet pelisse in 2x05 (requested by anonymous)