#victorian formal attire

[resplendentoutfit]

Festooned in Flowers: A Victorian Fashion Trend of the 1870s and 1880s

Artificial flowers are much used both for hair ornaments and as trimming on the gown – the largest size roses possible made of silk or velvet in black, white, or different colors with the dewdrop effect of rhinestones or diamonds. – Vogue, 1901

Some dresses, such as the gown below, were trimmed with elaborate garlands of flowers.

Right: Gustave Boulanger (French, Portrait de Madame Lambinet, née Nathalie Sinclair • 1887 • Musée Lambinet, Versailles

Left: Rogelio de Egusquiza y Barrena (Spanish, 1845-1915) • The End of the Ball • 1879

Flower garlands appeared draped over the entire gown, or just the skirt of a gown. Flower clusters were also popular on the shoulder, the middle of the neckline, and on a strategic placement where the fabric was gathered. Sometimes it seems they were used everywhere at once.

The Art of Dressing Well. A Complete Guide to Economy, Style and Propriety, published in 1870 advises: 

“Yet, even in the full dress requisite for evening parties, the rule should be to dress well, becomingly, and appropriately, but not obtrusive, and above all, not gaudily, or too much. It is a crime against good taste to be too much in excess of the company, yet care must be bestowed upon the costume, the hostess expects it, and the guests observe its neglect. It is the test of good taste to be in the foremost rank of guests for appropriate dress, but never in advance of others." 

Hmmm...it seems to me through today's lens that the antique gown in the photo above is "too much".

Short, or what we now call cap sleeves, were essential for formal evening wear in any season, as were sleeveless dresses. Off-the-shoulder and low-necklines were also very popular.

Glittering jewelry was often worn – necklaces in double-strands, dangle earrings, bracelets, and pearls. Some fashion plates and gowns in museums show women wearing a thin velvet ribbon around the neck.

Long gloves were a must. Hats were not considered appropriate in formal wear but fancy comb and pins were. As stated above, fabric flowers were also often used to decorate hairstyles that were mostly up-dos. Feathers were sometimes also tucked into the hair. Some hairstyles were very elaborate. And then there is the ubiquitous fan; either held closed or open to show off a special design.

[kasieli]

I have absolutely zero business imagining Yule Ball designs since I’m not even remotely close to writing that chapter (which I would like to but we’re not even two chapters in) but also I have zero self control so here have them anyways.

[marzipanandminutiae]

thinking about the infantiliztation and/or formalization of 19th-century women's clothing to modern audiences

like

our entire reference point for "wearing long skirts and outfits with decoration like lace, embroidery, appliques, etc." is either formalwear or fictional characters in children's media like Disney princesses. women's clothing is just so radically different now- not that those elements don't exist, but they're much less common in everyday clothing than they once were. some form of simple trousers and an equally simple top are de rigeur for everyday attire, and anything else is Fancy

combined with the fact- which is true! -that a lot of what survives to end up in big museums belonged to wealthy people, this ends up in wild assumptions like "basically our entire idea of what the Victorians dressed like is just Rich People Clothes really"

which has led to the eternal cry of "but what did NORMAL people wear?!?!?!" that will not be satisfied with real examples of middle or even working-class everyday clothing because it still looks too "fancy" to modern eyes

not Victorian, but a great example of this is what Abby Cox wore to portray a milliner (hatmaker) in Colonial Williamsburg. a working, middle-class woman:

(ignore the facial expression there)

this is the exact outfit she sported in a video that apparently got responses like "but that's just what rich women wore!" and it is, in fact, everyday attire for a working person. a person who worked in the fashion industry, it's true, but still

I had someone ask me about how to find examples of casual Victorian clothing because they were at their wits' end trying to research it. and I had to tell them that...what they were looking at WAS casual. in the sense of Clothing For Everyday Wear That's Not Especially Formal. there's nothing inherently formal, or exclusive to the wealthy, about a matched bodice-and-skirt dress, instep-length, with some trim. or even a trimmed blouse and skirt. obviously women working the absolute hardest outdoor, physical jobs might have adopted occupational trousers or similar, but we don't all dress like construction or farm workers all the time nowadays. why would they have back then?

Laundresses, probably 1850s or early 60s. Note that I can STILL date the picture based on their outfits and hair, and these are the furthest things from wealthy socialites.

Maid scrubbing steps, probably 1870s or 1880s. Note pleated trim on her skirt and what appears to be a peplum at the back of her bodice.

also, not all working women worked physical jobs any more than we do today. here is a teacher around the turn of the 20th century:

Teachers, 1887

"Breton Seamstresses," 1845, by Jules Trayer

were there differences in quality, type and quantity of trim, fit, etc? obviously. but some people are convinced that the basic outfit format can't POSSIBLY have been something ordinary women wore, because it looks formal and/or princess-y in a modern context

[winterzsurprise]

Thirty Minutes || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: After convincing Miguel to take a break from working, he generously granted you thirty minutes with him and you know how you'd spend it.

Words: 1.7k

Tags: NOT BETA READ, smut, rough sex, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, squirting, big dick Miguel, standing sex, deep penetration, fang play, office sex (i guess?)

This is so rushed but he just do things to me. He breathes and I start giggling and twirling my hair. I am so feral for him I'm sorry (not sorry). I swear I'll bring more flavor next time :''DD

forgor to note that the glasses part is heavily inspired by that one scene from a kdrama named "Business Proposal".

hermosa - beautiful || cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love

Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider hub, it's expected for Miguel to be drowning with tasks and reports to analyze at any time of day. You accepted that fact when you started dating him on the down low.

You didn't care that he's busy since your time is also taken by fighting crimes and eventual missions. Plus, at the end of the day, the make up sex is godly.

But you find it hard to tolerate it when days and nights blurs without him leaving his office unless he needs to eat and use the bathroom.

Apparently, Jessica has held a few interventions for him with Peter B. and it failed every time. Miguel threw them out and threatened to shut Layla down if she didn't block their access to his office.

Passing by you in the lobby after another mission, Peter B. asked you with a stern look while Mayday babbled, mirroring the seriousness of her dad.

"Please do anything to get him to leave his office. I beg of you."

So after dinner where there's less activities and presence in the hub, you head straight to his office with barely a plan in mind. Clearly confident you'd make the man rest, even for fifteen minutes.

The hatch parts open and you are met by the image of him reading out a report in formal clothing and square glasses, sitting at the edge of the platform. He briefly looked up from the report before returning back to his task.

"Let me guess, Peter sent you here?"

"I heard they've already hosted a couple of interventions and rallies."

Miguel huffed, pitching the bridge of his nose. "Such a waste of time, they could have been in their home world watching over their cities."

"Come on, you know that they're just concerned about you."

"And you're here because you're also concerned?"

You laughed, webbing onto the ceiling and pulling yourself up to land beside him. “Are you really going to act this way, Miguel?”

Miguel didn’t respond, focusing on reading on the report about the paper Doc Ock variant found in Earth 2199 written by the Victorian Spider-Man. You settled on sitting next to him in silence after retracting your suit back.

His subtle glances on your skin tight shorts didn't go unnoticed but you ignored it in favor of 

You took the time to observe the man whose bulky body is covered in a simple  dress shirt with three buttons down and black pants that complemented the thickness of his thighs. The square glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose only added more flavor to his attire.

He's criminally dashing.

After being away for days to catch an anomaly and crime fighting in your own world, you couldn't ignore the simmering desire bubbling in your abdomen.

How could you not be when your darling looks like a five star Michelin meal in front of you?

Your attention seemed to bother Miguel, who let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, what do you want?”

“I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?”

Miguel deadpanned at you, seemingly disturbed by the thought before putting the reports down and turning to face you fully with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned your form up and down, letting his head fall back before groaning.

“Alright, I’ll bite. You got thirty minutes.”

You grinned. "That's all I need."

He raised an eyebrow at that but before he could question it, you captured his lips with yours. As if the kiss was a droplet on the water, the ripples caused by the taste of his lips awakened the lust simmering in the pit of your stomach.

His hands found your hips and pulled you close until you rediscovered your rightful seat on his thighs. Rough and calloused touch sneaked past your top and crawled up to the swell of your breast.

Miguel pulled away, removing his glasses—quite erotically—before diving back to lose himself in your lips.

"Is this what you plan on using your thirty minutes for?"

"You know it'll last longer than thirty."

"I doubt that."

His words sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, igniting your nerve endings alight.

"Are you really going to fuck me in your office, boss?"

"Don't 'boss' me, hermosa and you know I'd spread you open no matter the location."

His hands unclasped the front of your bras and spared no time in covering your flesh with his. The rough texture of his palm rubbing against your firm nipples got you moaning, hips twisting in his thighs desperate for stimulation.

Pulling away, Miguel's lips fell to your throat, his tongue roamed the skin above your heartbeat that rose when his razor sharp teeth grazed your flesh, threatening to pierce. With the soft suckles on your neck and the rough massage on your mounds, you were a moaning mess, tugging helplessly on his hair and grinding pathetically on him.

"You're so desperate for me, mi amor. Did you miss me that much?"

"Shut up and just touch me, please."

He groaned, deep. "You sound so adorable when you beg, baby."

He quickly made work of your shirt, tossing it along with your bra before moving to tugging your shorts off. Your hands busies itself with his dress pants, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against your own and to feel the curve of his girth once more.

It didn't take long before you're both naked and bare to anyone who dares enter his chambers. A shrill excitement electrifies your skin at the thought of being caught, the riskiness of being discovered and seen being devoured by the man you love oddly arouses you further.

Though you're sure with how possessive he is, Miguel has already shut the gates to anyone till he's done with you.

But it was an interesting thought to have while his three of his fingers savagely thrusts in and out of your hole, the other hand grounding your hips made it impossible to escape the onslaught of pleasure after pleasure striking your nerves down, you screamed, clawing at his broad back as he fingered you open.

Miguel grunts. "Scream louder for me, mi vida. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

His thumb found your clit and started drawing figures of eight on them, the knot in your abdomen twists tighter as you climb towards your orgasm. There's a wet squelch building up to bounce in the chamber and you flush red yet Miguel took it as a compliment, increasing his speed and curling three fingers upwards more.

Your legs shook violently from where they stood beside his wide thighs before the knot unfurled and you came with a shout, trembling pathetically in his hold. The sudden onslaught of serene euphoria makes you light-headed and you rest your forehead on his shoulder.

He pulled away, choosing to be merciful and let your shaking figure settle down before continuing.

"You didn't squirt? What a shame."

"F-fuck you."

"Don't lie, cariño." There's a grin in his voice as he pulls you flush to him. "I know you like it when I leave you writhing pathetically."

Not sparing any second, he stands up and you wrap your arms around his neck, already sensing his plan as he reaches down to line the tip of dick with your sopping heat. The sensation of his girth so near your entrance re-igniting the suffocating arousal and desire in your body.

"And god, do I miss seeing you cock-drunk and shaking."

Plunging in deep, your mouth falls and you scream. The hilt of his girth grazing your uterus along with the burn of the stretch sparking every nerve endings alight. The familiar feeling of his cock reminding your hole who it belongs to made you feel dizzy, it was too much but it feels so good.

His thrusts are unforgiving, rattling your soul every time his hips collide with yours, leaving you breathless and moaning unintelligible words. His fangs digs into the crook of your neck as he pants and groans into your skin.

The sensation of your pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest sends electric shocks down your spine, adding onto your quick climb to your high.

You could barely make out the Spanish words he's whispering like a prayer, mind fogged with nothing but the pure nirvana he was handing to you. 

"Fuck, you feel so good for me. Always so sweet and tight for me, yeah?"

"Yes yes yes…!"

One of his hands grabbed hold of your jaw, forcing you to meet his dark red eyes. "You're not leaving this fucking room until I'm done with you, understand?"

You nod vigorously, wanting nothing but to please him enough to reward you with another orgasm. His lips found your neck once more, nibbling on your skin and teasingly dragging his fangs in his conquest to mark you, which shook you from your stupor, pushing his head away.

"No-not too much. It'll show."

Miguel's eyebrow raised, unfazed. "And?"

"T-they'll find out."

He scoffed. "I don't fucking care. Let them know who fuck you well and bare."

Angling his hips, he grazes a spot and you cry before the next plunge hits it, your legs began to shake around him with every thrust. Tears blurred your vision as pleasure invaded your very being, it didn't take long before you burst in his arms, your arousal painting his clenched stomach.

"That's it. Give it to me."

Ramping his speed, you howled. Pain started to mix with euphoria but you couldn't stop, it's not enough to satiate your famished soul. 

"F-fuck…! I-I don't think I can a-anymore."

You squealed at the sharp stinging pain left by his hand on your clit. "You will and I'll make sure of it."

Palming your bead more gently than his savage thrusts, he tightened the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter until it exploded and splattered once more unto his glistening abs, legs writhing helplessly in the air.

With the unbearable tightness of your velvet walls around his dick, Miguel soon followed. Hot liquid arousal painting your insides white with every pulse of his dick. You groaned at the familiar feeling of fullness before wincing at the pain of overstimulation.

Slapping his back, you whined. "I'm so fucking sore and you'll make me walk out by myself. How fucking cruel of you."

Miguel grumbled, catching his breath as he sat you both down on the floor.

"Who said you're leaving, cariño?"

[lovedrruunk]

It would be so cool if you could write a venture x reader where Y/N is too nervous to speak to Venture so Mercy wingmans for them‼️

‘The best wingwoman ! ଘ(˵╹ᴗ╹)━☆

Venture (Overwatch) x GN reader

Authors note!; super cute request!!! Did I tell u guys I'm a mercy main…. DISGUSTING I KNOW!! But I also main Ana so it cancels out… also tbh there’s a lot of requests that I haven’t gotten to *YET* simply bc idk how to go about them :( but this one came to me rlly easily !! Ty!!! also finished this whole thing while listening to phantom of the opera on repeat for 2 hours (i need 2 write a moira fic omg...) UPDATE: HELLO??? THE MERCY MYTHIC? okok ill stfu now sry!!

Earlier today, you were dragged to a work party by your colleague and guardian angel, Angela Ziegler. You begged her to let you stay home, but she refused, saying she wouldn't be able to go without you since you were the only coworker she actually enjoyed spending time with. And so, being the amazing friend you are, of course, you agreed to go to keep her company!... Just kidding!

Angela knew you too well. Once she mentioned that the cutie from the Wayfinder Society was attending, you did a complete 180, now asking her what you should wear. She couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, amused at how predictable you were when it came to romance.

Sloane Cameron, also known as Venture, also known as the cutie from the Wayfinder Society, had quickly captured your attention ever since you first met them a couple of months ago when the Wayfinder Society was adopted by Overwatch as a sub-branch. Being the head anthropologist for Overwatch led you to spending a good amount of time with Venture and their team. Granted, it was just work and sharing data and all that, but you couldn't help but find them super intriguing. They were funny, lively, and so passionate about their work! But as badly as you wanted to get to know them, you just couldn't. Their confidence was a blessing and a curse, being the cause of why you liked them and the cause of why you were so terrified of talking to them.

Every week or so, you and Angela meet up at the cafeteria at Overwatch's headquarters to catch up while drinking your morning coffee/tea/whatever, which you of course just use as time to gush about your overwhelming crush on your new coworker. But last week... last week, you had decided enough was enough. You made a promise to Angela that by next week, you would at least ask them if they'd want to hang out outside of work. Feeling pumped and confident, you had excitedly gotten all dolled up for the party.

And now, here you were. The party was in an old Victorian mansion with lots of expensive art and chandeliers, nothing less for Overwatch, of course. The first time you had attended a work party, you were extremely underdressed, assuming it was a casual get-together, not at all expecting it to be an elegant and serious "ball" like party. You cringed at the memory before Angela snapped you out of it, handing you a glass of champagne.

"So? Is today the day?" she questions as she leans against the back wall you had been standing next to.

"I don't know, Angela..." you whined as you not so discreetly stared at them from across the room.

It was the first time you had seen them in formal attire, and you couldn’t help but admire how they looked good in everything.

"Go ask them to dance!" She suggested happily.

"What!? No way! I can't dance, especially not with them!"

“Oh, don't give me that! The worst they could say is no."

"'No' is definitely not the worst they could say. They could say 'get away from me' or 'why are you talking to me about something other than rocks' or 'your foundation doesn't match your neck.. and no I would rather drop dead than dance with you'."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious!- Wait!! Did you see that? They smiled at the new rookie! What if they like her!? What if they came here together!? What if they're dating!? Married!!? Oh my god, and now they're chatting it up with Tiff from communications! They're laughing, what's so funny!?"

"You have got to be kidding me..."

"Right!? She's not even funnier than me..."

Catching you off guard, Angela grips your shoulders, forcing you to face her.

"Shut up," she says sternly, fighting off the urge to smack you in the face. "Just ask them. You'll never know until you do... And if you don't, I owe that infuriating geneticist twenty bucks..." She murmurs the last part to herself angrily.

"Y'know what? You're right!"

You quickly finish the glass of champagne, putting it on the table next to you. Feeling encouraged by your friend, you take a deep breath before marching towards Venture... right before turning your heel and marching straight back to Angela.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up..."

"You haven't even said anything!!!"

After a bit of back and forth, Angela is fed up and tells you that if you weren't going to do anything about it, then she will.

As she makes her way towards Venture, you whisper yell at her, begging her to come back and let you give it another try. But knowing you, she decides to ignore your desperate pleas as she continues to happily strut towards them.

From the distance, you can't make out what they're talking about, and it's driving you nuts. Angela's back is facing you, but Venture's face lights up, so you decide to take that as a good sign. And just as you start to smile... Angela turns around and points at you.

You freeze in place for what felt like a year before your eyes focus again. Venture is grinning as they wave to you, and Angela uses her hand to call you over. You force a wide smile (not aware of how crazy you look) as you timidly walk up to the two of them.

"Y/N! I was just mentioning to our sweet Cameron over here how you love to dance! They've never been to a party like this, isn't that crazy!"

"Yeah!! Wayfinder never had the funding by itself to afford something like this! I've never really had a reason to learn how to dance, so I have no clue; was hoping you could teach me!?"

"Me? Oh, sorry! I don't know how to dance!"

"But... Dr. Ziegler just said.."

"I know! Poor little Angie... ever since her last birthday, her memory has been terrible!! Must've confused me with Lena!"

You could feel the death glare Angela was giving you, but you continued to smile innocently at them.

"Well... I guess this would be a good opportunity for us to learn, don't ‘cha think?" Of course. Of course, they would somehow find a solution to your excuse.

"Great idea!!" Angela claps her hands together happily. "Why don't you two head to the dance floor? You'll only learn from experience!"

"I agree!"

Before you can say anything, you're dragged by the hand of a very excited Venture, and although your palms are sweaty and your head is spinning, you can't help but feel so much excitement.

. . .

And so as the dancefloor clears and the two of you are making your way out to the gardens, you spot a grinning Angela and a scowling Moira putting away her wallet.

[tteokdoroki]

You said Victorian ladies making butter and all I can think about is Bakugou putting you into the butter churner sex position👀

smut mdni. gn!reader + butter churner position hehe.

- mentions of nipple tweaking, no pronouns or other anatomy described, and lord!bakugou and not historically accurate sorry !! <3 thank u miss jo for the shitpost turned thirst LMAO

ok so imagine bakugou but a lord from like the victorian era— destined to take over his parents estate and valuables as the eldest and singular son of the family but only on the condition that he marries of status. has children to keep the lineage going. bakugou cares for his family’s honour, but doesn’t for his suitor. she’s sweet, would make the perfect wife and child bearer— except she’s got no aspirations or wit or drive and the blonde isn’t in love with her. oh no.

he’s in love with you, the simple scullery staff who longs to the see the world by his side. so he really can’t help it, sneaking away from the small gathering his parents host for the new in-laws and for the bride to be— slipping away from the glitz and the glamour to fuck you stupid in the manor’s pantry.

��you really are just a spiteful little slut, aren’t ya?” the blonde snarls from above you, pushing your thighs further over your shoulders until your feet dangle either side of your head. katsuki sits on top of your folded body, thick cock plunging in and out of your soaked little hole as it creams and clenched around him. “just couldn’t help ya-self,” he slurs around the saliva on his tongue, gaze laser focused on the way you suck him in.

your body jolts with every thrust, chin tucked into your chest so that you can hardly breathe— your own saliva trailing down it as you take everything lord bakugou gives you. you are spiteful, you didn’t like the way his bride, katsuki’s future wife had been looking at him— touching what was rightfully yours despite the differences in status. all you’d done was spill her tiger’s milk cocktail on that stupid little rich girl dress of hers, retreating to the kitchens with a faux look of apology. desperate for your secret lover to follow.

and he did, happily wrecking your sloppy sex as punishment.

bakugou’s quite literally churning up your guts, directly on top of you— tip hitting all the right spots with every jut of bakugou’s hips downwards into yours. “ain’t you s’pposed answer when your master speaks t’you?” gone is his formal dialect as he ruins you through and through, your juices splashing up from your heat to paint his toned stomach— half heartedly exposed from how his attire is caught between his teeth.

blood rushes to your head, carrying waves of sex tinted ecstasy as bakugou’s balls slap hard against your ass— you have no idea how he expects you to form words between his swirling hips and calculated and forceful thrusts. “‘m-m sorry!” you cry out, mouth hanging open only to be gifted with a fat glob of spit from your lover. “p-please, my lord.” you pant and stick your tongue out to show him that you’ve swallowed.

“you’re not even fuckin’ sorry, y’just as selfish as this nasty hole of yers,” bakugou grunts at you, biting down on his own lip— seconds away from bursting and filling your tight sex up with all his seed. “a lowly fuckin’ servant who’d do anythin’ for their master’s cock, huh? to have me deep in their guts, creamin’ their insides,” he drawls hungrily, punctuating each of his words with curses and taps of his leaky tip against your pulsating hole before you’re cumming around him in a mix of twitches and muffled yelps— painting him with your release as a sinister smirk spreading across katsuki’s swollen lips.

“well lucky for you, you’re the only slut i want on my cock. you got that?”

[edosianorchids901]

Escape Route

@sherlocktember2024 prompt - "Victorian"

It had often been difficult or impossible for Holmes to remotely fit into the dictates of society. On occasion, he wondered whether some past era might have been kinder to him. But then, at least based on his forays into historical research, it seemed that society had always operated along strict lines to which he could not conform.

He particularly wondered about this little problem when he was obligated to attend social functions. Thankfully, such occasions were rare. He had, after all, structured his life in a way that let him be his own master, not obligated to go to parties, socialize, or do anything he did not wish to do.

Or at least, that was the situation on the whole. Sometimes, however, his work required a foray into that most Victorian of social functions, the week-end country house party.

Holmes utterly loathed all such occasions. A trip to the country was not always objectionable provided he was not required to interact with anyone he did not wish to, nor to participate in social rituals and the horrors of polite conversation.

On this occasion, he was investigating a complicated string of extortions, and there was no better place to become acquainted with both victims and suspects. As a result, he had obtained an invitation for himself and Watson, and was now being thoroughly tormented.

He had endured it at first. As he was a known eccentric, he could get away with merely wearing his ordinary, comfortable outfit. He could not tolerate more formal attire, not while also struggling to cope with the unending social barrage, the overwhelming roar of voices and stench of perfumes, and the misery of unfamiliar food and drink.

Those factors, however, became less and less bearable as the evening wore on. He had been engaged in conversation by a gentleman who seemed determined to force Holmes to reveal his “secrets”, and was not in fact interested in an explanation of his work. Watson gently intervened, peeling the gentleman away for more romanticized conversation, and Holmes fled for an isolated corner.

This did not, however, solve the trouble. There were so many voices, and while on a case he could not afford to distract himself with something more interesting like examining the flower arrangements. There had been no sign of tension among the existing guests, and so he suspected that whoever was responsible for the extortion had not yet arrived. Still, he must pay attention.

The clamor rose higher and higher. Laughter and shouts from one person to another, the clink of glasses, the chatter of a metal tray as someone began some insipid party game. More clattering followed, and Holmes flinched.

He pressed all the way back into the corner, his chest tight and breaths restricted. Even thoughts of his case became impossible.

He could not endure this torment, the barrage of pointless overwhelming stimulation. It was not the sort of stimulation he loved, and without any form of mental exertion, the boredom manifested as something like physical pain. Aches all through his body, his muscles burning with the desperate need to do something, anything, before he went utterly mad—

“Holmes, can you hear me?” Even Watson’s gentle voice was like a blow, and Holmes jerked in pain. Watson did not touch him, but gestured to the door. “Come on, old man. Let’s go to the garden.”

Moving at all risked causing additional overwhelm, and he wished only to sink to the floor in the corner, shut his eyes, and try to center himself before he exploded. But this environment would not aid in that quest.

He followed Watson, focusing as intently as possible on his friend rather than the tumult of the party. He must control himself. The shame of erupting into distress would do damage to his ability to continue the case once it progressed again, and he could not allow that.

It was too cold outside in the garden, but he could at least breathe here. He sank onto a bench, folding his hands together, and stared at the path. His heart pounded in his chest, racing out of control. Even from here, the sounds of the party overwhelmed him.

“It’s all right, Holmes.” Slowly, Watson took his own coat off and settled it around Holmes’ shoulders without otherwise touching him. Holmes still tensed. “Easy, it’s just me. I’m right here. Take your time.”

With Watson here to watch out for him, Holmes covered his ears, closed his eyes, and bent forward. The whole world had gone blurry, his control over himself shattered. If he could not calm down now, he would utterly explode. This was already far past the point that he would ordinarily allow himself to slip.

But that was the trouble with being out of his ordinary routine. Back in Baker Street, he had all his familiar things in their proper place, ready to soothe him. Even in London itself, the familiarity often permitted him to ground himself. He could retreat to some quieter area, and calm his agitation with predictability.

A house party had none of that. Here, he had only Watson. Thankfully, that seemed to be enough.

When Holmes came out of the fog and opened his eyes again, his memory had blurred. He remembered leaving the house, and being here on the bench, but the moments between had become indistinct.

Watson, however, was solid and present. The good doctor had taken up a position at his shoulder, as if on guard. He wasn’t looking directly at Holmes, instead watching the path to the house.

“Do you intend to chase off anyone who would bother me?” Holmes asked, curious.

Watson glanced down, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he gave a gentle, warm smile. “Well, I was certainly considering it. Do you feel any better?”

“I’m all right.”

“You were on the verge of a complete panic.”

Holmes sighed. There was little point in attempting to downplay his difficulties to Watson, who knew him so well. Who had so often sat beside him in the dark when he could only hide from the world. “I fear I became a little overwhelmed, yes. I owe you my thanks for retrieving me before I could be more of an embarrassment.”

“You are never an embarrassment.” Still moving slowly, Watson sat beside him on the bench. “I was glad to help. I’m only sorry I wasn’t there sooner, but it took some time to extract myself from Mr. Brixton.”

“Was that the gentlemen who kept shouting ‘rubbish’ at me each time I attempted to explain the art of deduction to him?”

“The same. He is one of the extortion victims, if you recall.”

“Ah, yes.” Holmes considered the matter, touching his fingertips together and then resting his hands in his lap. He was still dizzy, and felt as if additional strain might shatter him. Perhaps he would simply spend the night in the garden. “He almost makes me wish to abandon the case and leave him to his fate. He was exceedingly rude to me, Watson.”

Watson gave him a mildly alarmed look. “Surely you would not abandon the others!”

“No, no.” Holmes watched as another carriage parked in front of the house. Hopefully a more interesting late arrival. “I will not abandon any of them, Watson. But you must permit me my little amusements. I am very frustrated with the case at present.”

“I will gladly permit you any amusement,” Watson said softly. “I’m sorry the case is frustrating. I’m sure something will happen soon.”

“I am less certain. I begin to think these is no substance to this matter at all. Perhaps I am wasting my time, and subjecting myself to this torment for no reason.” Holmes sighed and pulled out his cigarette case and matchbox. He struck a match, lit his cigarette, and sank into the comfort of familiar smoke.

He had only been smoking for perhaps a minute, soothed by both that and Watson’s quiet company, when a gunshot rang out inside the house.

Watson jumped to his feet at once. “My God, what’s happening in there?”

“I have no data yet to be certain.” Holmes rose, much calmer and much more interested now, and tossed Watson’s coat back to its owner. “But it is quite possible that the person who has been extorting these people arrived in that most recent carriage, and was promptly shot by one of his victims.”

“You don’t sound very alarmed by that,” Watson said as they jogged towards the house.

“Well, there are no more gunshots, and very few screams, so I surmise there will not be too many injuries for you to attend to. And this may allow us to close this case more quickly.” Pleased, Holmes flashed a smile at his companion. “And then, we shall be free to return to Baker Street!”

[mayhemhq]

Our event, Grim's Hollow Haunt, is just 11 days away, and we're excited to share all the details of what's happening that weekend! The 19th & 20th is the is the weekend that it will take place. All shows and ppvs on this day are prerecorded, regardless of if your character participates or not.

The setting takes place in a secluded cabin on the outskirts of Salem, MA. We’re bending reality a bit for this experience. The sprawling three-story cabin is isolated, surrounded by vast open land and eerie trees. Despite its remote feel, it’s just a short drive from Salem, where your characters can explore the city if they choose.

We invite you to click THIS link to read the fictional tale of Barnabas Grim and the legendary events that inspired this experience. It’s designed to feel like a local legend—stories pieced together over time through rumors and hearsay, blending elements of the supernatural with Salem’s own rich history.

With that in mind, we’ll be sharing starters the 19th and at least posting one dash game on the 20th to spark interactivity and creativity. Starters / prompts will mostly be one-liners inspired by the story and the cabin. During this trip, feel free to let creepy, unexplained things unfold—have fun with it!

Again, both important links worth checking out: here and here!

Now, to explain how the weekend will go:

We're all staying in the cabin—or at least, that’s the idea! There are plenty of rooms, and even multiple couples can share if they’d like. Remember, this isn’t just about romance; it’s about enjoying the experience together. When else will you get to do something like this? Of course, it’s perfectly fine if your character isn’t affected by the supernatural—after all, not everyone has those experiences in real life. But, at the end of the day, it’s all for fun!

Saturday during the day, feel free to explore Salem and whatnot. Do whatever you wish until nightfall.

The carnival kicks off Saturday night around 6pm CST. In canon, it will be set later to capture the feel of darkness and mystery. We encourage everyone to dress up in Halloween costumes for the event! Feel free to share your character’s look, but it’s not mandatory. For those managing multiple muses, use this time to draft posts or brainstorm outfit ideas. You can find all the carnival highlights on this page—just imagine a spooky yet thrilling carnival atmosphere. Keep in mind, this is the only October event featuring Halloween costumes, so take advantage and get inspired by the attractions listed!

Sunday night around 6pm CST, we’ll be hosting the final dinner: Grim’s Last Supper. You can find more details about it here. We encourage everyone to wear Victorian Gothic-inspired attire—think dark, rich colors, suits, dresses, and the like. Feel free to get creative, but keep in mind it’s a dressy, elegant, and formal dinner party. To keep things lively, we’ll also share a drunken Truth or Dare / AMA dash game that night for a bit of fun. One of us will link a drunken text generator if you really want to embrace the vibe!

Please, please make sure to reach out to inboxes that night and get as wild and weird as you want! Just keep in mind that it’s all for fun, and we want everyone to have a great time. Also, be considerate and avoid reblogging the game IF you will not be around to participate. Reblog to only the number of muses you can handle, too. Don’t get overwhelmed. Let’s make the most of the night!

We know there’s an NJPW PPV that weekend, but we decided to host this event a weekend earlier since the actual holiday weekends tends to be packed. Many of us have other OOC gatherings then, and some will be busy on Halloween night itself, so this felt like the best choice for an engaging and interactive event!

Quick question for everyone: would you like to have a plot twist during the final supper? Maybe something fun and unexpected, like a dare gone wrong or a creepy scenario that could (somewhat) realistically unfold? There’s always the classic power outage, but we know you all are super creative and might have other ideas! It’s not a must, but feel free to share your thoughts below so we can brainstorm together if something comes to mind.

[artofdeductionbysholmes]

Hi Mr. Holmes, speaking of howdy and a historical flashback, look what I've found. What was the occasion?

Mummy once hosted a Victorian Ball, complete with formal attire and proper etiquette, and made sure to photograph each guest. You really should see the picture of Mycroft from that event.

[amythestsimmer]

So, as I was watching @whinybrit's "Playing as a spellcaster because chat GPT told me to! // Sims 4 AI challenge" video, I got the idea of seeing if I can make a Legacy Challenge with ChatGPT. So I did! There aren't enough legacy challenges that are for occults. I had it made!

General Rules:

No Cheats: Apart from resetting money to the correct amount when starting.

Lifespan: Set to "Normal."

Heir Selection: Any child can be chosen as the heir, but they must follow the next generation’s theme.

Mods and Custom Content: Allowed if they do not provide unfair advantages.

Recommendations: Zer0's mods, @sp-creates Werewolf mod.

Legacy:

Generation 1: The Founder

Traits: Ambitious, Family-Oriented, Creative

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Business - Management

Goals:

Reach level 10 in the Business career.

Marry and have at least 3 children.

Build a house worth at least 50,000 Simoleons.

Appearance: Professional and elegant. Formal wear often includes suits or business dresses.

Challenge: Start with no more than 1,800 Simoleons after purchasing the lot and build your house gradually.

Generation 2: The Enchanter

Traits: Bookworm, Good, Genius

Aspiration: Spellcraft and Sorcery

Career: None (Focus on magic and alchemy)

Goals:

Become a Spellcaster and reach the Virtuoso rank.

Master the Practical Magic and Alchemy branches.

Collect all magic tomes and potions.

Appearance: Mystical and scholarly. Often seen wearing robes or mystical attire.

Challenge: Never hold a traditional job; instead, earn money through magical means.

Generation 3: The Day Walker

Traits: Music Lover, Perfectionist, Loner

Aspiration: Master Vampire

Career: Entertainer - Musician

Goals:

Become a Grand Master Vampire.

Master the Pipe Organ skill.

Turn at least 5 Sims into vampires.

Appearance: Dark and elegant, favoring Victorian-era clothing.

Challenge: Complete the entire branch of sunlight resistance.

Generation 4: The Ocean’s Embrace

Traits: Child of the Ocean, Loves Outdoors, Cheerful

Aspiration: Beach Life

Career: Conservationist - Marine Biologist

Goals:

Become a mermaid/merman.

Clean up Sulani and complete the Beach Life aspiration.

Have at least 3 children who also become mermaids/mermen.

Appearance: Beachy and relaxed. Often wears swimwear or tropical attire.

Challenge: Live in Sulani and never move out of the island.

Generation 5: The Alien Ambassador

Traits: Geek, Clumsy, Genius

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Career: Scientist

Goals:

Discover the Sixam world.

Max out the Rocket Science and Logic skills.

Complete the Nerd Brain aspiration.

Appearance: Futuristic and sleek. Often wears metallic or space-themed clothing.

Challenge: Build a rocket ship and use it regularly to explore space.

Generation 6: The Spirit Medium

Traits: Gloomy, Good, Neat

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Career: Paranormal Investigator

Goals:

Befriend and communicate with at least 10 ghosts.

Max out the Medium skill.

Complete the Paranormal Investigator freelance career.

Appearance: Gothic and ethereal. Often wears dark and flowing garments.

Challenge: Live in a haunted house and conduct regular séances.

Generation 7: The Big Bad Wolf

Traits: Hot-Headed, Active, Loves Outdoors

Aspiration: Leader of the Pack

Career: Athlete - Professional Athlete

Goals:

Become the Alpha of a werewolf pack.

Max out the Fitness and Charisma skills.

Turn at least 3 Sims into werewolves.

Appearance: Rugged and athletic. Often wears casual and durable clothing.

Challenge: Must fight and win against other werewolves to establish dominance.

Generation 8: The Green Thumb

Traits: Green Fiend, Vegetarian, Loves Outdoors

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

Career: Gardener - Botanist

Goals:

Become a PlantSim and maintain PlantSim form.

Max out the Gardening and Herbalism skills.

Complete the Freelance Botanist aspiration.

Appearance: Natural and earthy. Often wears green and floral-themed clothing.

Challenge: Grow and maintain a perfect garden with at least one of each type of plant.

Generation 9: The Mechanical Marvel

Traits: Perfectionist, Geek, Loner

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Engineer - Mechanical Engineer

Goals:

Build and maintain Servo robots.

Max out the Robotics and Programming skills.

Complete the Computer Whiz aspiration.

Appearance: Techy and modern. Often wears futuristic or robotic-themed clothing.

Challenge: Create and maintain at least one Servo robot that becomes part of the household.

Generation 10: The Hybrid

Traits: Creative, Ambitious, Cheerful

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Career: Freelance - Any Branch

Goals:

Have traits or abilities from at least two different occult types.

Master at least 3 different skills.

Complete the Renaissance Sim aspiration.

Appearance: Unique and eclectic. Mixes elements from various occult-themed clothing.

Challenge: Achieve maximum levels in three different occult-related skills or abilities.

Written into reality by ChapGPT, ideas and goals are by me! Enjoy!

[acnh-villager-a-day]

Day 9 of reviewing every Animal Crossing New Horizons villager

Todays villager is AMELIA

Nintendo has fucking NAILED this design. I know this woman. I don't need to read her information at all because I know her. The sleepy eye look with the sharp winged eyeliner, the grandeur of the suggested feathers at the bottom of her neck... I know her. At first I thought I didn't like the black sweater but then I realised the subversively formal aura it gives her. Amelia is proper, without immediately coming across as proper. My only slight gripe with Amelia's look is the lower half but that's less an independent problem and just an issue I have with the design of the eagle villagers; their legs look like Victorian era undergarments.

As hilariously suggested by her eyeliner, Amelia is a snooty villager which I think is very clever and thought out; there is a conversation between her personality and vanity that transcends language and can be heard from a mile away. Her personality is filled to the brim with smarts and demure. Take her special skill being the indulgence in poker, matching the red sections on her face. Take her aspiration to become a lawyer, as evidenced in her attire. I hate to base so much of Amelia on the way she looks but it seems to have become this beacon for who she is as a person. I am blown away by her look and how it isn't just a look, rather an extension of her identity.

Ok now I'll get into what I think about her skill and goal. It's just so well-rounded. There is nothing about Amelia that isn't sophisticated. A skill in poker? Wanting to become a lawyer? These two things are married only by sheer sophistication. Amelia also expresses an interest in the arts by permission of her hobby being music, I would take a bullet for this villager. What completes the celebratory case of her persona to me is her favourite song being K.K. Condor. It's such a delicate but frantic track, plucked straight from the score of a ballet's great climax in which the lead takes back her independence from an oppressive force. Which is something I feel like Amelia, as the eldest of 5 siblings could relate to, seeing that she packed up her life and left for your island. Bravo to Nintendo for this character, bravo.

Amelia's history in the Animal Crossing franchise is somewhat of an allegory too. Named after Amelia Earhart, she is the first female eagle of the franchise up until New Leaf when Celia was introduced. Amelia Earhart herself was the first female to fly solo across the Atlantic and the first person to fly solo and continuously over the United States. The further commonality between these two is flight. Poetic really.

Amelia is a free spirited, sophisticated and elegant trailblazer of the Animal Crossing franchise who has touched down at last, in full form, in New Horizons. All in all, I must give Amelia a solid 9/10.

[resplendentoutfit]

Fashions of the Early 1830s: Large Hats and Leg-o-Mutton Sleeves

I was obsessed with Victorian era fashion for way too long! Let's jump back a few years and take a look at what royals and high-society women were wearing from 1830 to about 1836.

Vincente López Portaña (Spanish, 1772–1850) • Maria Cristina de Bourbon, Queen of Spain (fourth wife of Fernando VII) • 1830 • Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid

The style of the blue gown above is in keeping with Romantic era fashion, with its elbow-length puff sleeves with lace trim and pleated bodice. For formal attire, long gloves were worn.

The Maria Cristina de Bourbon portrait is of a royal subject, therefore the jewel-studded headpiece is especially grand, as is the bodice ornament and earrings. The feather was characteristic of the times – very large hats with feathers were in vogue, as well as large bonnets. The Spanish queen is wearing a lace mantila with her headpiece, which I assume is a symbol of her Spanish heritage.

The fabric of the queen's dress is extraordinarily elaborate, with all-over silver thread embroidery. The bodice on this and many early to mid 1830s dresses was called a bodice à la Sevigne, which was made up of a central boned band divided into horizontal folds of fabric.

Belts and wide ribbons around the waist were often featured on dresses of the early to mid 1830s.

The fashion from circa 1830 to 1835 was one of over-porportioned extravagance. Sleeves larger than were ever seen or since been, width at the shoulders, and dramatic hats and headpieces.

Hair too was over-the-top. Notice the perponderance of elaborate braids, coils, and curls in these images.

1830-34 • British • Printed Cotton Day Dress • Victoria and Albert Museum

One such dramatic feature of 1830s fashion was the pelerine, a lace covering that was worn over the shoulders. The cut of the neckline was already exagerated to emphasize width at the shoulders; adding a pelerine only added to that width as well further acting as more ornamentation to the outfit.

François-Joseph Navez (Belgian, 1787-1869) • Théodore Joseph Jonet and his two daughters • 1832 • Private collection

Sleeve style quickly evolved from simply puffy to Gigot or leg-o-mutton sleeves – a huge, billowy sheer sleeve over a smaller one, continuing with a tight-fitting long sleeve.

This flamboyance in sleeves was to suddenly come to an end around 1836. More about that in a future post, as I continue to flit willy-nilly along the fashion history timeline!

References:

• Fashion History Timeline: 1830-1839

• Wikipedia: 1830s in Western Fashion

• Wikipedia: Pelerene

• Mimi Mathews: The 1830s in Fashionable Gowns: A Visual Guide to the Decade

[marzipanandminutiae]

I was just looking into the notion that widowers only had to mourn for 1 year after their wives' deaths, during the Victorian era, while widows had to mourn for two. because I've heard that a lot, but it seems to jive more with the Pop History version of the era where mourning existed because Imposing Rules On People Is Fun and All Marriages Were For Money than with the real version, inhabited by real people who idealized love matches and theoretically practiced formal mourning to show that they were going through something and needed gentle treatment

what I've gathered from a brief search for period sources seems to be:

one source from 1839 mentioned the "widows = 2 years; widowers = 1 year" thing

every other source I read (about 7, from various points in the era) implied or stated that the minimum normal period of mourning for widows and widowers was the same

That's a small sample size, but I still think it's significant

men's clothing could often be harder to visibly alter to reflect mourning, relying heavily on things like black cufflinks and collar studs that could be trickier to notice at first glance than. you know. a bonnet with a black veil over someone's face

a lot of sources talking about mourning clothes were fashion magazines aimed at women, and thus would be more likely to talk about women's mourning attire than men's

so my takeaway is that while some people at some parts of this 60-year period felt it acceptable for widowers to mourn for half the period of widows, many others at other times expected any bereaved spouse regardless of gender. obviously, in a highly misogynistic society, women's adherence to ettiquette could be much more scrutinized than men's; a widower who married six months after his wife's death would be looked askance at, but probably not subject to as much censure as a widow who did the same. and obviously, things don't go according to plan and the formal mourning system could of course backfire- forcing a woman into months of social seclusion for an abusive husband, for example

but.

the overall goal was to convey "handle with care" to the outside world. for many people, widowers were expected to need as much care as widows- and therefore to mourn for the same length of time

[dresshistorynerd]

Hi! So I’m doing a personal art project on fashion in the 1890s, and I am struggling. Like a lot. I created a Pinterest board of a bunch of 1890s dresses, problem is I’m having a hard time identifying the uses for some of them. I know that a Walking dress is a type of Day Dress but how exactly would one differentiate the two? What exactly would be the physical differences between a Walking dress and a Day dress?

And did everyone have walking dresses? Or was the more of an ‘upper class’ sort of thing?

I understand the struggle. It was quite hard to parse out at first for me too since the Victorian dress etiquette was pretty complex. Fortunately I have made a post about that specifically for 1890s. If it doesn't answer all your question or you want me to specify something, feel free to sent another ask! I used examples from different years of the decade to make it more applicable to the whole decade but it should be remembered that there was changes to the silhouette thorough the decade and every type of dress would be adapted to the shifts in the fashionable silhouette.

Though as I point out in the post it focuses on the upper class. For the working class and to some extent middle glass it was a little different. The working class did not participate in the high society events, but many middle classes could at least to some of them, and working class women worked outside of the house too, while married middle class women generally didn't. Young unmarried middle class women did often work, for example as secretaries and shop assistants in respectable establishments. Working women didn't spend their days receiving guests at tea parties or attending them, so they didn't have tea dresses, nor did they generally have evening gowns which would be required in formal high society events. They might have a dinner dress though if they were well off, which was the least formal of evening gowns. Middle class women would generally have these. Working class and the casual middle class day dress resembled much more the walking dress of the upper classes than their other day dresses. They would have a church dress that would be a little fancier day dress for church and usually even fancier day dress for formal functions, like weddings.

Here's working class women in their work attires that were practical day dresses and aprons usually.

And here's middle class women in fairly similar dresses.

Different types of day dresses

Maybe I should expand more on the differences in day dresses and how walking dress relates, since while I talk about day dress and walking dress separately in the linked post, I don't fully explain the whole day dress thing since I did need to simplify. Day dress was not a specific dress, but quite a broad category of dresses that were used in different situations thorough the day. They are quite hard to differentiate sometimes, mostly because they weren't really that strictly different from one another. To understand why one dress was used in one situation, we need to understand the dresses in the casual to formal scale. Usually casual is looser, more practical, less elaborate and more covering but has shorter hem and the opposite apply to more formal.

When staying at home, people would be in their most casual clothing, but the level of formality would rise when receiving guests. Leaving home would require higher level of formality, but how high would depend on what you were going to do and who would see you doing it. This is why visiting gown is more formal than the dress the hostess would receive their visitor in. Close family members and friends could be casually received outside specific events during the day and a casual house dress or tea dress was acceptable for that. Afternoon tea was an important social event for upper and middle class women, and it would be slightly more formal occasion, but still for family and friends and therefore somewhat casual. Visiting dress were on the formal end of the afternoon dresses, but more casual versions of it could be used to go see a close friend or family member in a more casual way. Carriage dress was worn for open carriage rides, which were social events for the upper class. There they would be seen prominently by their whole community while they socialized in the carriage among their peers. Carriage dress was therefore very formal and elaborate, often had a trail and usually had a cloak as the wind might get cold. Promenade dress was for walks in a park. This was different from an actual walk, as the upper class people would go to a park to be seen and to socialize. Promenade dress was then somewhat formal, though less than most visiting dresses or carriage dress.

Here's first an example of a quite elaborate visiting dress from 1894-95 and then carriage dresses, first image from 1894, second from 1891.

Walking dress was the least formal of the dresses an upper class person might wear outside the house (excluding sports dresses). It was used by upper class people for city walks and traveling, but as I said earlier the practical day dresses of middle and working class were very similar to it. It was practical and simple. It had shorter hem, it was made from sturdy materials, often wool and it was usually tailored. Dress Reform Movement, which was a moment among the first wave feminists, advocated among other things for tailoring in women's clothing, arguing it was more practical. The trend begun in 1880s and it's really most prominent in walking dresses and sports wear of 1890s. Which it why the walking dress typically has a lot of elements from men's fashion. Unlike the other day dresses, which were rarely tailored and had usually just the skirt and the bodice, the walking dress had a skirt, shirtwaist, tailored jacket and sometimes a waistcoat and a tie or bow. Sometimes a walking dress is hard to distinguish from a promenade dress. Promenade dress was more elaborate and while it usually had a shorter hem than for example carriage dress, it wasn't as short as for a walking dress and it might even involve a bit of trail. The things is promenade dress and walking dress probably had a lot of overlap.

Here's fashion plates showing promenade dress styles, first from 1896, second from 1898, both conveniently showing an elaborate dress and a tailored look that's easy to get mixed with a walking dress, and possibly would have been used as such in some cases.

Here's walking dresses shown in a picture from 1899 (note the early photoshop to make the waist smaller), a fashion plate from 1896 and a painting from 1897. Really the main difference is the hem of the skirt to the promenade dresses of tailored style.

Shirtwaist

I will mention on it's own shirtwaist too, since it highlights a lot of the class differences and how they showed. The shirtwaist, or blouse waist or sleeve shift, is a hard garment to pinpoint as it was used for many different purposes by different people. It was one of the first garments to be mass-produced and therefore very affordable. It was also loose and unfitted by nature and so easy to move in. For these reasons it was used with a practical skirt by working class and middle class women as casual wear. The outfit was sometimes used with a jacket similar in style to those of walking dresses, making it practically indistinguishable from a walking dress. Here's for example pictures of working women class women wearing shirtwaists at work and at town shopping (the other picture could be of middle class women too).

As tailored styles influenced by men's fashion became popular, so became shirtwaists. At the same time sports were becoming popular and sportswear was highly influenced by this tailored trend. Shirtwaist being light and loose was perfect for sports and was used by upper and middle classes for tennis, golf and cycling for example. (I'm working on a post about the history of tennis ensemble where I go deeper into this.) Because of it's very casual nature, it was not considered suitable for the upper classes in most situations outside sports. As seen above it was part of the walking dress for the upper class, but in that situation it was used under a jacket. Young fashionable progressive women, who were often called the New Woman, started using it in their morning dresses and then even casual day dresses.

Here's first a picture of tennis ensemble from latter half of 1890s, a picture of young women from 1898 and a fashion plate from 1898.

I have a pinterest board of primary source examples for Victorian fashion, where I've made a rough divide between different periods of the era and different types of dresses inside every period. It's not fully organized yet and at least for now the types of dresses are divided very roughly into day dresses, evening dresses, sports ensembles and toilette. Toilette is a vague enough term so I used it here to include basically any dress used exclusively at home. The categories are maybe not granular enough to be helpful for you here, but I'm linking it here in hopes it would be of some help.

[deerabigailhobbs]

Victorian Adamgail AU still on the brain so here's a rundown of what I think the siblings would wear and why:

Abigail favours the practicality of her clothes while still wanting to be fashionable. The large hoop skirts of the 1850s decade are still visible, however with tight or short sleeves to make it easier when she's working with Dr Gordon. Of course there are times, however, when practicality can be ditched for something more stylish, such as when she is out with her friend Marissa for lunch. She'd mainly wear earthy tones, not wanting to appear too flashy and stand out. Blending into a crowd is what makes her feel most comfortable.

I also know some people headcanon Abigail as Christian, and since it is the 1850s, when religion was more prevalent in day to day life, I think she'd wear a cross around her neck, maybe keep her rosary in a dress pocket too.

Formal wear is different however, ditching the darker colours for something lighter and with more flare

As for Adam, he would be less interested in fashion trends than his sister, putting comfortability above all else. Not only for himself, but for his work. Rigid clothes make it harder to get the best angle for a photo. Loose shirts and lack of coats make him a bit of an anomaly in town, appearing at first like a commoner who's gotten their hands on some fine clothes rather than an upper class man.

Adam is far less of a fan of formal attire, and when going to fancy gatherings and parties, he will show his own small form of rebellion. Necktie slightly loose, one or two undone waistcoat buttons undone, etc. He knows people will talk, but unlike his sister, he doesn't care what the public thinks.

I can imagine the ladies of the town fawning over this "bad boy" who has a button or two undone lol

[hauntingcryptids]

Keep It On

Whittaker!Doctor x Reader

Summary - The Reader keeps getting distracted by The Doctor dressed in her new outfit accessory and needs The Doctor’s attention as soon as they get back to The TARDIS.

Based On This Request - Anonymous said - “Reader Fem is so hot doctor 13 with a suit and waistcoat, that when you are in bed you ask her not to take it off with them. (no need to be smut, if you don’t want to or don’t feel comfortable)

Warnings - making out and foreplay leading to smut but no actual smut, sexual discussions. So Minors DNI!!!

Word Count - 1982

A/n - I was thinking about The Doctor’s waistcoat from “The Haunting of Villa Diodati”, but because that episode is so plot-driven I didn’t want this story to revolve around that episode. So, let’s just imagine that The Doctor wore something like that at a different time. I also think that I made this more of a Gender Neutral Reader rather than a Female Reader, I hope that that’s okay. Established Relationship. The other companions can be whomever you wish them to be. Requested by a lovely anon(thank you for the request)! I don’t know how good this is, but I had a lot of fun writing it even though it took me forever to edit. I hope that you enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------

The Doctor had been distracting you all day and the worst part of it all was the fact that she wasn’t even doing it on purpose. If she had woken up and decided to tease you throughout an adventure, then you would arguably have the right to be frustrated and upset with her. But The Doctor didn’t do that. She just got dressed and went about her day. Yet she didn’t even realise the lascivious effect that she had on you. 

The Doctor chose to spice up her usual outfit with a floral vest today. She did so innocently. Annoyingly innocently. She was taking you and the rest of her companions to a planet that had stricter, more Victorian-like guidelines when it came to fashion. You and your friends were all dressed fancier than your normal attire, but The Doctor, in her floral vest and button-down romantic blouse, continued to catch your eye. If you were being completely honest with yourself, The Doctor always caught your eye, but there was just something about her in that waistcoat that caused your brain to melt.

The time you and your friends had on the planet was incredibly fun. You had gone to a carnival filled with many alien rides, games, and foods, all the while you were longing after The Doctor without her notice. Eventually, though, the day had to end. Before returning to The TARDIS, however, The Doctor joyfully purchased alien ice cream for all of you to try as a small nightcap. Then The Doctor piloted her beloved ship to overlook a beautiful nebula as you and your friends said your goodnights for the evening.

“You should be getting some sleep, too. We all had a long day.” The Doctor said to you as she double-checked the protections she placed on her TARDIS.

“But I want to spend some alone time with you.” You walked up beside the alien and wrapped your arm around her vest-covered waist before leaning your head against her shoulder. The Doctor warmly nuzzled her head against yours before wrapping her own arm around your shoulders.

“Office time, fun time, or bedroom time?” The Doctor questioned, eager for your answer. This was a question asked between the two of you often in order to clarify certain situations rather than assuming what each other wanted. “Office time” referred to anything non-sexual and TARDIS-based: i.e. hanging out with The Doctor while she’s working on her ship, or in her study. “Fun time” stood for anything non-sexual that didn’t inherently involve The TARDIS: like watching movies, going on an extra adventure, or cuddling together. Finally, “Bedroom time” was code for more romantic and sexual activities: formal dates, making out, and obviously anything sexual.

“Bedroom time, if you are okay with that?” You turned your head to look at The Doctor for her answer and immediately you were captured by her star-filled hazel eyes. A wide smile spread across her face when she locked eyes with you.

“Of course I am okay with that, my little star.” The Doctor pecked a kiss on your nose before grabbing your hand and running down the TARDIS hallway toward your bedroom. You erupted into a fit of giggles, trailing after your ecstatic alien, very thankful that The TARDIS walls were soundproof.

Upon reaching your bedroom, The Doctor opened the door to your room with enough energy and excitement to rival that of yours upon first seeing her in her waistcoat earlier. She then flung you through the doorway, causing you to again laugh at The Doctor’s antics. Then she closed the door behind the two of you, smiling like the adorable mad woman with a box that she was. 

You skipped forward until your torso was pressed up against The Doctor’s chest, a mirror of her smile written on your face. Before The Doctor could compliment your loveliness, you fully pressed her against the door of your room and captured her lips in a searing kiss. Immediately, you could feel The Doctor’s sweet smirk against your mouth, telling you that if you hadn’t kissed her she would have done it for you. Her hands ghosted over your body momentarily until she eagerly grasped your waist and pulled you as tightly against her body as she possibly could. 

Unfortunately, you had to break away from the kiss in order to catch your breath, but much to The Doctor’s enjoyment, she didn’t need to stop for breath and could continue to tease you while you recovered. Now The Doctor could kiss and nip and bite at the skin of your throat. You sighed and moaned at the feeling of her perfect lips against your skin and the pressure of her hands roaming over your body. The Doctor was the only thought in your mind..

“You love teasing me, don’t you?” You breathily asked.

“Whatever do you mean?” The Doctor hummed against your skin. You were going to retort back, but as soon as you were about to speak The Doctor bit down on your pulse point.

“Doctor!” I loud, moany version of The Doctor’s name erupted from your mouth as your body curled into The Doctor’s, now desperate for some sort of friction.

“Of course I love teasing you! When I do, you make noises like that.” The Doctor giggled into your neck.

The intoxicating nature of The Doctor was causing your brain to blur, all you could focus on was her and nothing else. Your beloved alien was making you too flustered when you wanted to keep some sort of control. So, you pulled her face back to yours to resume kissing. You pushed The Doctor further against your bedroom door, cradling her beautiful face in your hands. After a moment of welcomed shock, The Doctor moved one of her hands to caress your upper back and with her other hand, she began to grope your ass. Then, before you could do anything to stop her, The Doctor flipped the two of you over so your back was now pressed against the wall. This sudden change took you by surprise, causing you to gasp and allowing The Doctor to slip her tongue into your mouth. 

You moaned into The Doctor’s mouth, which was a sensation that always made her weak. She was practically vibrating from the excitement of kissing you, holding you, and having your body pressed up against hers. In her flustered state, you flipped the two of you again. You tried to remain in control of the situation, to show The Doctor how passionately you cared for her, but you were quickly becoming more and more distracted by your alien lover. The Doctor grabbed you by the hips to ensure that you remained tightly against her body. Then she led you backwards until the back of your legs met the edge of your bed. The Doctor broke apart from the kiss this time. She kissed a path from your lips to your ear.

“Get on the bed.” She whispered passionately before kissing the shell of your ear.

A wide smile spread across your face, which The Doctor instantly mirrored. You then jumped on the bed with eagerness but stayed in the middle because your shoes were still on. The Doctor first kicked off her shoes with an adorable huff. She rarely ever fully untied her shoes at the best of times, but when something as urgent as being with you was occurring she never bothered to even untie her boots. She simply undid the laced bow and then kicked them off frantically. You giggled as you watched her now, but her attention soon fell back on you after her mini battle with her boots.

The Doctor placed her leg up on the bed and then gently grabbed your ankle. She placed your ankle on her knee and massaged the flesh there for a moment. Then she patiently untied your shoe with an almost sacred reverence for your belongings and before removed it softly. The Doctor pressed a delicate kiss to the inner skin of your ankle and then returned your leg to lounge on the softness of the bed. Immediately she showed the same treatment to your other ankle.

With your shoes now off, you scooted up the bed, Finally, The Doctor began to join you on the bed. Finally, you were experiencing what you had imagined since you first saw The Doctor in her waistcoat this morning. Finally, you could relish in having The Doctor’s full attention on you.

Your beloved alien kissed her way up your body, up your thighs, on your hips, all over your stomach and chest and neck. Occasionally, she would make minor detours in order to pay extra special attention to her favourite parts of your body. Eventually, she made her way up your body until she was fully hovering over you. The Doctor smiled at you like you were the most precious being in The Universe and then kissed your forehead with reverence.

“You are so cute.” The Doctor said softly, lovingly.

“And you are so handsome, Doctor.” You bumped your nose against hers.

“Really?”

“Absolutely! Especially in this outfit, Doc.” You caressed your hands up and down her waistcoat-covered sides, while subconsciously caressing her calf with your foot.

“So that’s what’s gotten you all worked up. I’ll need to dress like this more often, then.” The Doctor smirked down at you, her golden hair framing her face like a halo of starlight. She might be an alien, but in your eyes, she was an angel.

“You absolutely must!” You eagerly responded, causing The Doctor to laugh at your enthusiasm. She then moved to hold your face in both of her hands, her body weight fully on top of you, and kissing you passionately.

With yours and The Doctor’s lips finally reconnected, The Doctor moved her leg in between your legs and lightly put pressure on your crouch. Slowling, teasingly, she shifted forward, grinding her leg against your most sensitive region. You moaned into her mouth, grabbing a fistful of the fabric of The Doctor’s vest.

You and The Doctor continued to make out like this, building up the pressure and want between your bodies. Every once in a while, your beloved alien would expertly remove a piece of your clothing with nimble fingers until you were left beneath The Doctor in just your underwear while she remained completely clothed. Now she could touch you, grop you, caress you freely. Just as you wished, Your make out session stopped, however, when The Doctor moved to unbutton her waistcoat. Quickly, you grabbed her hands to stop her from doing so.

“Can you keep it on?” You asked, want heavy and evident in your voice.

“You want me to make you feel good like this?” The Doctor, despite her different anatomy, was breathing heavily from excitement. When she was like this, completely desperate for you, she didn’t need much convincing to try something new. However, she would be lying if she said that she never imagined ravishing your body while she was fully clothed and you were naked. Admittedly though, those imaginings were usually taking place in the console room of The TARDIS, but The Doctor’s excitement over this new opportunity never waned. She was not going to let this opportunity pass her by.

“Yes, please, Doctor.” You begged breathlessly.

“Good.” The Doctor smirked before placing one sweet kiss on your lips. She would have wanted to tease you a bit more if she wasn’t so excited, probably something involving removing her underwear with her teeth. However, The Doctor was too eager to do that right now. She kissed you once more with a fervour while her hands ripped your underwear from your body, leaving you completely bare beneath her. Finally, The Doctor was going to grant your wish and make you feel good in her beautiful waistcoat.