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stareyeddistinguishment · 2 years

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Aaron’s family had always been better off than most families in Windom. Aaron’s family had a cabin on Fox Lake, his backyard had a swing set and a trampoline, and when he turned sixteen, his parents gave him a pickup truck. And yet, for all his better fortune, Aaron had always been a decent guy. He’d been one of Adam’s good friends since grade school. Aaron, Adam, and Jason, Adam’s best friend, had been inseparable since Adam moved to Windom at the start of first grade.

It was Tuesday afternoon, and Aaron had swung by the hardware store to hang out with Adam and Jason while they worked. Tuesday was a slow day, customer-wise – especially during late July. School wasn’t starting for another week, so Adam was still working full time hours. Together with Jason, Adam was stocking the snack aisle. (In addition to the staples like nails and bolts, power tools, and lawn care supplies, the hardware store also carried a very limited stock of nonperishable foods. Stuff like canned goods, boxed pasta, and cereal.)

Adam was unpacking a case of Hunt’s stewed tomatoes while Jason was pulling all the cans on the shelf forward to make space for the newer stock. The boys sat on the tiled floor before the beige steel shelves, in their navy uniform pants, white undershirts, and navy smocks. Just for the fun of it, Jason had traded Adam nametags for the day. (Not that everyone in Windom didn’t already know who they were, so it didn’t really matter if Adam’s nametag read “Jason.”)

Aaron was standing in the aisle, chatting while Adam and Jason worked.

“So do you think Senior year is going to be any different than Junior year?” Jason wondered as he reached for a can at the back of the shelf.

“You mean different from Milligan kicking everyone’s asses in the classroom and on the track?” Aaron snorted.

“Yeah, I mean, different from that.”

“Nope,” Aaron replied.

Adam shrugged as he pulled the boxcutter across the cardboard box. “Sorry, fellas. I’m just that good,” he returned with false modesty.

“And just that humble,” Aaron shot back dryly.

“And just that humble,” Adam agreed. He pulled back the flaps on the cardboard box and started unloading the cans onto the floor.

Jason frowned uncomfortably, and that’s when Adam knew something was actually bothering him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Adam stalled in his unloading to give his best friend his full attention.

Jason shrugged.

“Come on, Jase,” Adam cajoled. Then, he waited patiently for Jason to crack.

It didn’t take long.

Jason sighed. “This is our last year together before everything’s going to change,” Jason spoke ruefully. “Like, Adam, dude, we all know you’re getting into some fabulous college on sports and academic scholarship. And Aaron, your parents have enough money to send you to anywhere in the Midwest-”

“-Assuming I get in somewhere,” Aaron interjected.

“You’ll get in,” Jason assured. “And me, I’m probably community college bound. But the point is, we’ll all be going our separate ways. So, Senior year is really our last year together.”

Although Jason tried to look unaffected, Adam could tell how anxious he was. (The dork. It was completely unjustified worry.)

Adam clapped his best friend since grade school on the shoulder. “Come on, Jase. You’re like a brother to me, dude,” Adam spoke firmly. He turned his gaze to include Aaron. “Both of you guys are like brothers to me,” he added. Then, Adam leveled Jason with a sincere smile. “Seriously, dude, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Aaron was quick to chime in.

Jason nodded, and a wobbly reassured smile pulled at his mouth. “Thanks.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” Adam replied. “It’s the truth.”

Jason’s smile broadened.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Aaron cut in excitedly. “You know how I used to take you guys to Fox Lake with my parents sometimes? Well, how about, every summer we plan a trip to my parent’s cabin. Like, just us. Like, a three bromigos trip.”

“Three bromigos?” Jason repeated incredulously.

“Hey, I got a B+ in Spanish last year,” Aaron returned tidily. “But, what do you think? We can meet up for a week each summer, and then we’re forced to keep in touch after Senior year.”

Adam nodded. “I’m all for it.”

“Yeah, me too.” Jason grinned.

“Okay, then it’s all set. The first three bromigos trip will be next Summer after we’re all graduated from High School. And then we just keep on, every year after that.”

The first three bromigos trip was a roaring success. They met up at Aaron’s house before all driving to Fox Lake in his pickup truck. There, they roasted marshmallows, and went canoeing in the lake, and had a late-night movie marathon. They grilled hamburgers, and went hiking, and played stupid camping games. Aaron even brought his badminton set (and wow, Jason and Adam sucked at badminton). They ended up playing two against one. (And Aaron still won.) They went fishing a couple of times, but only caught a tiny sunfish between the three of them – well, technically, Jason caught it. And the cabin on Fox Lake was close enough to the town of Welcome that they went into town for a pizza one night and also, to fill up on more Pepsi because Aaron was a big pop drinker. On the last night of the weeklong trip, they played an epic game of Truth or Dare that culminated in Aaron daring Jason to serenade Adam with Beyonce’s “Irreplaceable” (or at least the part Jason remembered). All in all, it was a great trip. And they made sure to set aside the first week of June the following year for their return trip.

It would be exciting to see how much had changed after their Freshman year of college.

#Adam Milligan #Sins of the Father #spn #supernatural #my fics #fanfiction #fanfic #one-shot #a little backstory on Adam

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adoratato · 9 months

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🍯 👕 ❤️ :)

🍯) do you stim?

Yeah though I'm actually trying to stim more since even after my autism diagnosis I've been heavily masking even at home

So far I've liked going onto my tippy toes, echolia, pressing my fingers together in a specific pattern and flapping my hands (though I need to stop that last one just because it really hurts my joints)

👕) what kind of clothes do I usually wear?

I 100% always wear natural fabrics that are very brightly coloured (particularly pink because that's a special interest and one of my current hyperfixations) i also tend to wear loose fitting clothing that covers at least up to my elbow and past my knees. Though that's more to do with my modesty standards than autism. I also never wear socks or shoes unless I 100% have to because socks and shoes suck ass. I hate them

❤️) what's my favourite colour?

Pink. Pink all the way it's always been up their in my favourite colours since I've been a child.

Though currently I'm also loving dark forest green and warm yellows, particularly honey yellow

#ask game #ask #faerietalks

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subiysu-chan · 1 year

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Harry Potter costume redesigns ideas

For a Harry Potter costume series redesigns, I would focus on several aspects. Outfits and robes made for flying : -It would be padded at strategic places, either as protection or for aesthetic purposes. It could ressemble gambison or it could ressemble Victorian men's coat, or something in between. -Sleeves for such garments would be short or sleeveless for sporting events, however Aurors that might be forced to fly at higher altitudes would wear long sleeves. -It would be slit below the waist to facilitate riding, typically between the legs, but the sides can also work. -In an Auror's uniform, this flying robe would be purple, decorated with honor badges depending on rank and the padding would accentuate the shoulders of the wearer to make them appear more physically intimidating. It would be buttoned. For British Quiddich players, the flying robe would be shorter, ressemblign gambison, made to sustain bludger blows but have modesty flaps included. The colors would be of whatever team the player belongs to, with quilting forming the team logo. It would be laced. -Flying robes that are not part of a uniform would be less padded and would be a variety of lengths and cuts. It would also be made in a way that could easily be combined with other parts of the person's wardrobe without being obviously sporty. Hogwarts Uniform: -Very simple black robe with long straight cut sleeves. It can feature a short double cape with one flap longer than the other, closed by a silver broach.

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deathlessathanasia · 1 year

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„Female dress, at the same time, does more than merely project an image of abundant resources of wealth and labour. The great quantities of cloth which go into the making of veil and peplos thoroughly disguise the shape of the body: the numerous folds of the lower half of a wide peplos and its trail completely hide the legs, while the baggy, overhanging folds of the upper part of the peplos and its large flap hide the waist and breasts, which are further covered by the veil, which of course also obscures the head, shoulders, at least part of the arms, and when necessary much of the face. The veiled women of early seventh-century art, reduced to nearly shapeless blobs, capture the Homeric image better than the seemingly corsetted figures of Geometric art or the apparently tightly dressed figures of later archaic art. This wrapping-up of the body contributes to the image of sexual modesty which is projected by the married women who, in the absence of their husbands, veil their faces and surround themselves with maidservants in male company.

The use of the term ‘head-binder’ for a veil may have a similar significance: the head is not just covered but symbolically bound; sexual appetites are not just hidden but controlled. ‘Untying the head-binder’ signals the loss of this control: hence the use of this expression as a metaphor for capturing a city (above, n. 49), associating military and sexual conquest. The hair-bindings, too, symbolize control: ampux and kekruphalon are terms used also for parts of the bridles of horses, the means by which their spirits are restrained. When a woman tears off her head- and hair-bindings (Il. 22.406–7, 468–70) or even rips up her veil (Homeric Hymn 2.41) in a show of extreme grief, this may represent a temporary abandonment of all self-control. An emphasis on sexual modesty is not to be confused with an effort to minimize sexual appeal. Women’s clothes are colourful and bright, and there is no doubt that the multicoloured peplos, ornate belt, and glistening veil are all regarded as greatly enhancing a woman’s physical attractiveness. Hera in the Iliad (14.178–86), Pandora in Hesiod (Works and Days 72–5; Theogony 573–84) and Aphrodite in the Hymn to Aphrodite (5.86–90, 162–4) all seduce men in large part through the appeal of their clothes and jewellery – on which the poets focus to the almost complete exclusion of any reference to the beauty of their faces or bodies. The way in which women pull their veils and peploi around them indeed provokes erotic responses from men precisely because these gestures draw attention to their modesty. After Penelope has made a fully veiled appearance all her suitors shout how much they want to sleep with her. The eye-catching belt and multifarious pins, moreover, draw as much attention to the fact that the peplos is tied firmly closed as to the fact that it can be opened. The Odyssey describes the seduction of a girl as the ‘untying of her maiden belt’ (11.241–5),86 and the wearer of a pinned peplos, as opposed to a sewn peplos or tunic, would certainly expose much of her lower body by taking off her belt, just as she would expose her breasts by simply removing a shoulder pin. The way in which the poet of the Hymn to Aphrodite lingers on the ‘pins and twisted spirals and flower-bud jewellery and necklaces’ which Anchises ‘first removed from the skin’ of the goddess before he ‘untied her belt’, took off her tunic, and made love to her (162–7) leaves no doubt about the fascination of such fasteners and ornaments even when worn with a tunic. Worn with a peplos, their erotic impact must have been even greater. As Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones wittily puts it: ‘We have here an ambivalent form of clothing which pretends to conceal the wearer but fails successfully’ (2001, 254).”

- Clothes, Class and Gender in Homer, Hans van Wees

#clothing #clothes #women #quotes #excerpts

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roosetheflower · 2 years

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Wild On You - Chapter 3 (Red Dead Redemption 2)

A/N: enjoy this one, it's not too smutty but i didn't leave you guys high and dry! I've really been loving writing this one. just as an FYI my inbox is open for one shots, preferences, prompts, etc for rdr2, so please feel free to reach out! I also opened my account to receive tips, no pressure to contribute! xx

Warnings: oral (male receiving), praise, implied masturbation.

Word Count: 2.8K

Chapter 3 - keep steady

A cool breeze washed over your skin, waking you up as it touched the parts of your body left uncovered by the thin blanket that had been placed on you in an attempt to keep your modesty. Opening your eyes and seeing Dutch’s tent was confirmation that you hadn’t dreamt up all of what happened last night, that this was real. You reached out for Dutch beside you but felt nothing but an empty space. You sat up, however, you had moved too quickly and now your head was pounding. I gotta lay off the booze, you thought, placing a hand on your forehead in an attempt to soothe the pain.

Standing up, you walked over to the small mirror tucked in the corner of Dutch’s tent to examine your naked body. First, you noticed a small and very red love bite on the right side of your neck. While it was an animalistic way to show affection, you loved it. You almost wanted to wear things that purposely complemented its red and pink pigmentation. You stepped back to examine your lower half. Small reddish bruises on your ass and hips as you had suspected. Other than that, you seemed to look like yourself. The love marks on your body made you bite your lip, you wanted Dutch to fuck you like that all day, every day, for the rest of your goddamn life!

You walked over to the pile of clothes you two had accumulated on the floor last night to retrieve your undergarments and dress. Sliding your panties on, you noticed how sensitive you still were. You swiftly got dressed in case anyone had decided to waltz into the tent unexpectedly. As you fixed yourself up, the tent flap opened. You quickly turned to face the entrance, only to find Dutch standing there holding two coffees. Instantly relieved, a huge smile crept on your face.

“Good morning, good-looking.” he cooed, handing you a cup and planting a deep, passionate kiss on your lips. “I was hoping I’d find you here still naked.”

“I thought it best I’d try to act as naturally as possible, as to not raise any suspicions.” you replied laughing a bit. “Now, help me lace this up.” you said pointing to the back of your dress. Dutch approached you, sliding his hands down your exposed back, tugging at the dress all while kissing you softly on the back of your neck. “Not now, I’m supposed to meet Tilly in 20 minutes and I still have to change into my riding gear. We have to run into town for something.” you pleaded, just barely resisting his advances.

“Fine, but I need to see you as soon as you’re back.” he said, still gripping your waist from behind, planting more soft kisses down your neck.

“We’ll see.” you said cheekily smirking, as you turned around to exit the tent. You glanced back at him before ducking out, catching his awestruck expression. You wanted to show him that you were more than just his plaything.

Outside, you immediately noticed the looks the other gang members were giving you. Some were giggling, some were side-eyeing you, and some were trying not to even make eye contact with you. You ran into your tent, trying to hide from all of the speculations. You quickly switched into your brown riding pants and dark red shirt, paired with your light beige hat, black gloves, and brown boots. You messily braided your long hair to keep it out of your face. After the record time, it took you to get ready, you decided to sit in your tent for a minute or so. You were overwhelmed by the mixed reactions.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there” spoke a familiar voice.

You sighed, “Come in, Tilly.”

“You know, you can’t hide in here forever.” she said sitting down on the cot next to you. “How were things last night, by the way?”

“Like you don’t already know…the whole camp is talking about it.” you said dropping your head to your hands.

“But you enjoyed yourself?” Tilly asked smiling, poking at you.

“Of course I did. Dutch is- Dutch is wonderful. I didn’t even think I was capable of feeling that way.” The two of you laughed.

“Well,” she said rising up from the cot. “let’s get going, I don’t want us to mess up our timing for this job.” she extended a hand out to you.

You made your way to your horses, passing by a few of the men when you heard Micah whistling from behind you.

“You know, I thought we had opened a whore house in camp last night with all of those noises you were making.” he chirped.

You stopped dead in your tracks. People near you were getting quiet noticing the confrontation. Turning on your heels to face him, you let out a light chuckle. “I bet you haven’t made a woman feel any sort of way in years, maybe never. Aren’t too skilled in that department, huh?” you retorted pointing to his crotch. You held your fingers up, gestured how small he probably was.

“You little…” he started at you, fire in his eyes.

“Micah!” John yelled, trying to diffuse the situation. Lenny and Javier followed his lead to try to subdue him.

“What’s going on here?” Dutch piped up coming out from his tent after hearing the commotion.

“Don’t worry boys, I can certainly handle myself.” you said. Walking up to Micah you started him right in the eyes and then swiftly kneed him directly in the balls.

“ARGHHHHH FUCK!” Micah cried, rolling onto the ground in agony.

“Oh Micah, don’t be so dramatic. You wouldn’t want others thinking we’re running a whore house out here? Pick yourself up, shouldn’t take too long to heal, not like there’s a lot going on down there anyway.” you said, cooly walking over to mount your horse.

You turned around before leaving camp, eyeing everyone’s reaction. A lot of folks were chuckling, watching Micah roll around like a baby. You had just done what everyone has wanted to do every day, and they respected the hell out of you for actually doing it. You looked to Dutch, who was smiling at you. You winked at him and rode off with Tilly to Valentine.

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“With all due respect, sir, I have no idea what you’re even talking about and frankly I am offended that you would even accuse me of such a thing.” you shouted.

“Ma’am, I know you stole my watch. It was gone the moment you stepped in here. Now give it back and I won’t call any lawmen.” the post office clerk demanded.

Hearing the commotion from outside, Arthur made his way inside after recognizing your voice. “Woah now, is everything okay here?” he asked approaching you.

“Sir, this woman has stolen my watch and is refusing to cooperate with me! I will not hesitate to call in the sheriff.” the clerk shouted.

“I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding.” Arthur stated giving you a look to stop the nonsense.

“Maybe if you looked around and actually tried to find it, you wouldn’t have to harass me so.” you hurled back.

The clerk huffed and puffed, angrily looking around for a lawman before stopping after catching a shiny silver object in the corner of his eye. On the shelf inside the post office booth, laid his watch. He picked it up, in disbelief.

“Well, well, well…” you scoffed. “Looks like someone misplaced their belongings. Now if you wouldn’t mind making sure my letters get sent post haste, kind sir.” you said condescendingly.

“I apologize ma’am. I will post those for you immediately, again I’m so sorry.” the clerk said sheepishly disappearing into the back room.

You left the post office, Arthur trailing behind you confused as ever. “What the hell was all that?” he asked you in a hushed tone.

“A distraction, Arthur, nothing more.” he said with confidence.

“A distraction? What the-” he stopped, seeing Tilly ‘round the corner of the post office, giving you a sly thumbs up. Arthur chuckled, “What are you girls up to?”

“You get all of it?” you asked Tilly.

“Sure did, and then some! Made it look like the cart driver didn’t secure his goods properly.” Tilly replied.

“Excellent.” you said high-fiving her as she handed you the bag of cash. “Come on let’s get back. You too, Arthur. I’ll explain on the way.” He just shrugged, and the three of you rode back to camp.

“You’ve got to fill me in here, darling.” Arthur demanded.

“Every Tuesday at noon a cart from Strawberry delivers packages and letters to the post office. They also deliver a lock box that contains roughly around $1000 dollars that they float in their registers.” you explained.

Tilly piped in, “I counted $1500 today, much more than we anticipated.”

“Exactly. So I figured I’d steal the clerk’s watch as to deflect his attention on to me, rather than the delivery cart outside, I never planned on actually stealing it. When I handed him my ‘letters’, I slipped it off of him, and when he went to the back room to get stamps, I put it on that shelf inside.” you continued. You were actually quite proud of yourself.

“Holy shit!” Arthur exclaimed excitedly. “Wait, but what about the cart driver?”

“Well, I've been staking it out for a few weeks and noticed that the first thing the driver does is make his way to the saloon, so he wouldn’t be a problem.” you said.

“You’re a genius, Y/N. You too Tilly. $1500? That’s not bad for such a low-scale robbery. Dutch will be pleased for sure”

“I know he will be, but keep it to yourselves for now? I want to tell Dutch myself.” you asked politely.

“Of course, it’s your score, you should do the honors.” Tilly agreed.

As the three of you rode back, Arthur couldn’t help but be amazed by you. You had only been with them for a few weeks but he was so impressed by your ambition. He watched you as you rode ahead of him. You were smart but also beautiful and he couldn’t help but notice that, especially the latter. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone since Mary. He knew something was going on between you and Dutch and felt admittedly jealous after hearing you moan Dutch’s name like that last night.

As you approached the tree line leading into the camp, Arthur paused. “Hey Y/N, since you’ve had such good luck today why don’t we practice your shooting.”

“Sure, why not.” you smiled and the two of you rode down to the riverbank.

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After setting up, you started your aim. “Careful now, you have to be steady.” Arthur said, coming up behind. Instead of just adjusting your hips like last time, he pressed his whole body against your, reaching down the length of your pointed arm to steady you. You let out a shuddered breath, feeling something hard against your ass. “Just like that.” he said, adjusting your hips. You were so overwhelmed by the sensation of his touch that you nearly forgot about what you were doing. Coming back to reality, you focused on your target, hitting it dead on.

“Oh my god!” you yelled, jumping with excitement.

“Nice one!” Arthur exclaimed picking you up and spinning you around. As he placed you back down, you made direct eye contact with one another. You could feel a growing tension between the two of you. As your feet touched the ground, his hands were still around your waist, you two were just awkwardly staring at each other.

You gently wiggled away. “I should probably try another one. I need get a couple without your help, you know.” you said trying to make light of the situation.

Arthur agreed and you spent roughly an hour, shooting every target he set up for you. You were improving very quickly.

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When you got back to camp, you took your time getting settled. You knew that Dutch saw you and Arthur come back, but you wanted to make him wait. After washing your face and taking out your braid, you made your way over to Dutch’s tent.

You didn’t even announce yourself, walking right in to find him sitting on his cot reading a book. He was surprised to see you so assertively enter his tent.

“It’s about time.” he said closing his book to direct his full attention to you.

You approached him and set the bag of cash on his table. “$1500 in cash, quietly taken from the post office in Valentine. No commotion, no trouble and we were in and out in no time.” You said sitting on his lap facing him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you closer.

He kissed you roughly, biting your lip as you pulled back. “First you put Micah in his place, you successfully pull off a $1500 robbery, and now Arthur tells me you shot all your targets today. You really are something else…” he trailed off, kissing your neck tenderly as his hand moved up and down your body, hungrily grabbing at you.

You kissed him hard, your tongue slipped into his mouth. You ground yourself against him, feeling him become more aroused by the second. He let out an impatient, low groan. He reached a hand up to squeeze your breast, causing you to moan in approval. You loved his desperate, neediness.

Grinding against him a few more times, you scooted off his lap and on your knees in front of the bed. “What are you doing?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“Just lie back, Dutch.” you instructed. He had an inclination of what you were going to do but was still not expecting it from you. He did what he was told.

You unbuckled his belt, and slowly undid his pants, sliding them and his underwear down just enough for his already hard cock to come out. You pumped your hand up and down it a few times, which made Dutch’s breathing get heavier.

A year ago, an older cousin of yours once divulged to you her secrets to giving the best blowjob. She was a distant cousin and was more like a friend, but nevertheless, you held on to that information in case it was useful later. It was definitely coming in handy.

You licked the tip of his cock, putting your mouth around it and then gently pulling off of it. Dutch's head went back at the sensation of it. Taking in more of his length, you used your tongue to swirl around the tip of his member. You bobbed your head up and down, trying to get up to a reasonable pace.

Dutch placed a hand on the back of your head. “That’s it, that’s it. Mmmm… yes, good girl.” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair. You looked up at his face, moaning into his cock. He tugged your hair in approval.

You continued your pace, this time you tried to put see how much of him you could take, moving your lips further and further down his cock, until you reached the base. You gagged a little, pulling off for some air.

“You look so pretty, you’re doing such a good job.” he said. “Keep going, darling.”

You started again, bobbing up and down, taking in as much of him as you could. You started increasing the speed of the rhythm, which sent Dutch into a euphoric haze. Mumbling and groaning with pleasure. You could feel him bucking his hip towards you, you knew he was getting close. He growled, pulling at your hair much harder this time.

Suddenly he let out a deep moan. “Fuck, Y/N. God, you’re so fucking good.” Bucking his hips once again, he spilled himself in your mouth. You quickly swallowed his load, only letting a little bit drip out from the corner of your mouth. Dutch flopped back onto the bed in pure ecstasy.

You stood up and wiped your mouth, you drank whatever was left of the brandy in the cup Dutch had been drinking from, and walked over to kiss him roughly. As you headed to the tent flaps to leave, he called out to you. “Where are you going?” he asked. He was shocked, excited, and perplexed all at once.

“Goodnight, Dutch.” you said leaving his tent.

You lay down in your own cot tonight. You felt so powerful and in control. You loved the way Dutch made you submit to him, but sometimes you wanted to have fun too.

Undressing yourself, you also couldn’t help but think about Arthur. The way he pressed himself against you like. There was something so understated, yet sexy about him. Your fingers brushed over your clit, he was all you could think about.

#red dead redemption2 #rdr2 smut #dutch van der linde x fem!reader #arthur morgan x fem!reader #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic

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audreydoeskaren · 3 years

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Abridged history of early 20th century Chinese womenswear (part 2: 1910s) *improved version

Source here

*I’m fixing and reposting the first two posts of this series because back then I had no idea how Tumblr formatting functioned and they deserve better. I’m keeping the shoddy original versions for archival purposes.

Other posts in the series:

Part 1: 1890s original)

Part 1: 1890s & 1900s (improved)

Part 2: 1900s&1910s

Part 3.1: 1920s-silhouette

Part 3.2: 1920s-design details

Part 3.3: 1920s-hair, makeup and accessories

Part 4.1: 1930s-silhouette and design

Part 4.2: 1930s-hair, makeup and accessories

Part 5: 1940s

Part 6.1: 1950s&60s-Hong Kong, Taiwan, Macau & friends

Part 6.2: 1950s-mainland China

Silhouette

The monarchy was overthrown in late 1911 and the Republic of China was declared in 1912; people always say this liberated women’s fashion but I'm not sure where the direct link is so I’ll jump straight into it. As we have seen in the 1900s, the collar of women’s robes began to rise and this trend continued into the 1910s. In the beginning of the decade, the collar became as high as humanly possible and was closed by three pankou. The robe became further tightened and so were the pants, becoming literally skinny pants.

Source here

Calendar painting from 1911. Interestingly I haven’t been able to find any full body photographs/artworks from the early 10s.

By the mid 1910s some dramatic developments started to take place. The robe shortened to hip length and was very slender. The sleeves, now extremely slender and form fitting, began to shorten as well, resting about 10cm above the wrists. The collar became insanely big, so big that it couldn’t be actually closed in the front and was just worn as two opened flaps buttoned at the bottom only. Collars starting from the 1910s were often stiffened with a starched net interfacing, a technique borrowed from Western fashion. Because of the short sleeves, the wrists would be exposed and that was considered indecent. Some women wore similarly tight fitting undershirts (or underrobes?) with long sleeves under the outer robe for modesty, and some wore it because it was a cute look. I’ve also seen undershirts with a high collar but collarless ones seemed more common.

After two decades dominated by pants, skirts came back in fashion, usually in a simplified mamian pleated style with one flat section at the front and back each. I’m not sure if they were still wrap-around like earlier styles or if they were stitched together and closed by buttons at a placket, but both sound plausible. The pleats were wide and very neatly folded, giving the skirt an overall very slender silhouette as well. Pants were still around but just worn less frequently. The silhouette of the pants relaxed a bit from the skinny cut of the late 1900s and became more straight cut.

Source here

Calendar painting from 1914-15 showing a woman in aoqun (robe and skirt) and another in aoku (robe and pants). You can see their undershirt sleeves of contrasting colors.

By the late 1910s, around 1918, pants started to dominate again. This time they returned with an even skinnier pencil cut. The pants gradually began to shorten as well, hitting about the lower calf by 1920. The sleeves of the robe became slightly more loose and relaxed going into the 20s. Undershirts are now no longer compulsory and many women showed their bare arms. The collar dropped in height and could be closed at the front again.

Source here

Calendar painting from 1918. Aoku with skinny pants. She left her collar open but with that height she could totally close it. I love the Art Nouveau font they used, a couple years out of fashion in Europe but still.

Design details

Experimentations with Western fashion influence was big in the 1910s, many fashionable women would choose to trim their robes with lace, fur or ruffles (depending on the season) or use Western fabrics altogether. The 1910s were a very westernized decade and garments made purely in the historically Chinese style with multiple rows of binding and all were difficult to come by.

Around 1914-16, the pearl look was suddenly in vogue. Women would use the highest possible number of pearls to trim their garments. The raw edges of the robe would be trimmed in pearls, even the edges of skirt pleats would be trimmed in pearls. And then they would wear long pearl necklaces wrapped around their necks, sometimes multiple ones. It was madness, I’m living for it.

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Calendar painting from 1914 showing aoqun trimmed in pearls and fur. The fabrics are European too.

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Ca. 1914-16 photograph showing pearl necklaces.

Despite the popularity of loud, outrageous Western fabrics with bold floral prints and aesthetically ambiguous colors, robes and skirts were also commonly plain in the mid 10s, with the robe bound by very thin binding, piping or trimmings. Ornamental pankou became more comonplace instead of the plain ones, you could read about those in more detail here.

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Ca. 1914-16 photograph of a girl in plain aoqun with thin lace trim and circular pankou. Her undershirt is peeking through.

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Ca. 1914-16 photograph of a family. The woman’s robe is bound with a thin Western trimming, either lace or something else I don’t know the name of. The skirt is plain but the front flat section is also trimmed in this material. She’s wearing a high collar undershirt and a pearl necklace.

In the last couple years of the decade, fabrics in bright pastels and jewel tones became fashionable. They were often floral or geometric printed/embroidered in a very loose, diagonal pattern. The trimmings were commonly white and pretty wide and could be of Western patterns. The collar was tall and could be closed by 2-4 pankou.

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Painting ca. 1919 showing two girls in aoku. The pastel fabrics, white trim and straight cut slender sleeves are quite representative of this couple years. I love the late 1910s I think it was very elegant but relaxed.

Hair and makeup

In terms of makeup, most women still didn’t use makeup and when they did it was the same as in the 1890s and 1900s.

The 1910s was a wild ride for hair (well, and for many other things). The beginning of the decade saw the continuation of the long bangs as was popular in the late 1900s. Some edgy girls would tie their long hair into low buns, braids or pony tails to emulate late 19th century Chinese men’s hairstyles.

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It’s from the late 1920s but you get the idea. Damn this hairstyle stood the test of time, for something this cursed it’s truly impressive it managed to stay alive for more than 10 years.

In the middle of the decade, hairstyles where the long hair was pulled back into buns were the most common, reminiscent of the 1890s.

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Ca. 1914-16 photograph of a woman with hair pulled back.

A lot of women also emulated Western hairstyles like the Gibson Girl pompadour. It only became popularized in China after it had spread to Japan, which explains the delay, since it was already out of fashion in Europe by around 1909 and white girls switched to this voluminous waves with a ribbon hairstyle I don’t know how to describe. Some Chinese girls did that hairstyle too, but because curling one’s hair is not a thing in China, the end results looked somewhat different. 1910s Western hairstyling is underrated change my mind (1910s Western fashion in general is underrated...).

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Ca. 1914-16 Gibson Girl pompadour updo.

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This hairstyle as worn by Japanese women. Btw I think the evil lady in Spirited Away is also wearing this hairstyle because she’s supposedly a Karen from the 1900s or something.

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Consuelo Vanderbilt 1900s. Notice how it looks different with straight and curled hair.

Now onto this other puffy hairstyle with a ribbon.

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Artwork by Kwan Wai Nung ca. 1914-16. I love this painting so much it has so many valuable details. She is wearing a lot of pearls and Western jewelry (including a wristwatch), her robe is in a beautiful minty color and trimmed with lace, we can see how the tight sleeves of her undershirt are buttoned. She’s also wearing a tight pencil skirt which is a very common Western style of the early 1910s. Now, her hair. She kind of braided them at the back to create some round volume and wore a ribbon around the whole coiffure. This was a Western hairstyle that was actually trendy in the West around this time, although it was also starting to go out of fashion as white women adopted shorter marcel waves in the second half of the 1910s.

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Lily Elsie in this hairstyle, early 1910s. Btw I also think this hairstyle was the true source of the flapper feather boa stereotype? Feather boas and ribbons were commonly worn with this hairstyle in the 1910s but they pretty much stopped appearing after 1920, in the 20s everyone went to parties with just their hair on their heads.

Apart from Western inspired hairstyles, a cursed contraption began developing among Chinese women. This kind of emo-esque long bangs draping from a middle part began to become a thing in the mid 1910s, but it wasn’t until 1918-1919 that it reached the peak of its influence. In the back it could be styled with a braid, pony tail or low bun too. I’ll be calling this emo-esque, no offense to any emos.

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Ca. 1914-16 photograph of a girl with this emo-esque hairstyle.

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Ca. 1914-16 calendar painting showing one woman with hair pulled back into a decorated bun and one woman rocking the emo-esque bangs.

A common hair accessory of the mid 1910s was this new incarnation of the pearl headband from the 1890s. Instead of the plain circular shape in the 1890s, the new version had a pointy center and was lower at the sides.

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Three girls with mid 1910s pearl headbands

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Calendar painting from 1915-16. More pearl headband representation. I personally find this outfit very questionable but I have to look at it, for science.

By 1918-19, the emo-esque hairstyle has reached its full power. Most women wore hairstyles like that, if they didn’t they would still have a middle part and the rest of the hair would be in buns or braids.

The source disappeared :..))

Beijing opera actor Mei Lanfang playing a female role in the opera production 一缕麻. I love his outift it’s so tight fitting and typical of these couple years.

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Advertisement ca. 1919-20. Middle part hair with low bun at back.

Undergarments

As women abandoned foot binding and embraced tight fitting pants that showed their feet and sometimes ankles, flashy, form fitting Western knit stockings oftentimes with embroidery that matched the designs on the clothing became fashionable. Polka dot patterns were especially popular, although the motif itself wasn’t necessarily always a circle----it could also be floral or geometric. If you were not into these, plain white stockings were readily available too. These were knee length and worn held up by a ribbon garter.

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Ca. 1917 painting of two women, one of them is wearing brown knit stockings with a polka dot pattern.

Since tight fitting pants were being worn, I assume Chinese women wore some sort of drawers, although I have never seen actual evidence of it. For the women wearing skirts, petticoats were probably underneath.

Fashionable women wore breast binders to flatten their chest because this was the ideal body shape at the time. Tbh the flat ideal has been a thing since the 15th century at least; it’s not that big boobs were frowned upon, people (both men and women) very much enjoyed big boobs, it just wasn’t considered decent or fashionable to have them protruding underneath one’s clothes. Breast binders from around 1900 to 1930 were made of fabric and closed by buttons.

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Illustrations of breast binding underwear from 1927. I can’t find any examples for 1910s ones so I’m showing this.

Shoes

The new republic had banned foot binding so most women in the 1910s had natural sized feet, except if you’re older but older women unfortunately couldn’t make it to fashion advertisements in that time...

Western leather shoes became fashionable. The could be flat pumps or any kind of shoe fashionable in the West in the 1910s, but the heel was generally kept quite low.

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Calendar painting ca. 1918 showing flat black leather pumps.

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Ca. 1919-20 photograph showing a woman wearing mid heel pumps.

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Ca. 1914-16 photograph of two women in Western leather shoes. And yes fashionable Chinese women since the 1880s loved going around with Western umbrellas/parasols.

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Examples of Edwardian women’s shoes. Interestingly, the boots with buttoned galoshes so popular among Western women in the 1910s were not a thing in China at all.

However, Chinese style flat pumps were still around as well.

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Ca. 1916 photograph. Chinese style flat pumps with a pointed toe.

#vintage fashion #1910s fashion #historic fashion #chinese fashion #1910s #chinese history #vintage hair #vintage shoes #vintage underwear #aoqun #abridged history of early 20th century chinese womenswear

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coeurdastronaute · 3 years

Text

Nerd 14

Previously on Nerd

There weren’t many things considered as decorations in the house on the corner of Inglewood Street. The old stone house, with its black shutters and manicured lawn hid behind a stately oak and the polished Porsche in the driveway, glowed as a beacon in the neighborhood, of perfection and wealthy modesty. Inside, it was less populated than one might expect, never fully lived-in, at least not to the casual observer.

Clarke moved her way down the stairs as she balanced the bag on her shoulder, fully prepared for work and then studying with her girlfriend on a fairly boring Saturday night. For the first time in a long time, she looked at the sparse frames of pictures of her family.

Unsure of what made her pause, she furrowed, pushing her eyebrows tightly together and leaning into the image of her mother and father on a random date when they were together in college. They were carefree and at some bar trivia night. Abby hugged Jake’s bicep and nearly hid in his shoulder as he leaned forward, other arm lifted to interject an answer. He was smiling wide despite his eagerness, the flash ricocheting off part of his large glasses. His hair was floppy and fully, swept to the side and neatly arranged, while Abby was brimming with life. Clarke loved the candid picture because sometimes she looked at it, and these were two people who had entire lives and experiences and she forgot that. They probably got butterflies like she did when Lexa smiled at her. They probably spent hours excitedly waiting to see the other.

In that picture, her mother wasn’t the person she was now, though both seemed insanely far away from Clarke. This college-aged person was alive, vibrant, in-love, awake, eager, and not cheating on her husband. The body language alone showed how much she adored him.

In that picture, her father was the funny, charming man she remembered, not the angry, frustrated man who was skin and bones, who couldn’t eat, who couldn’t swallow, who had difficulties moving most days and remembering his own daughter others. He was alive as well. He was the man everyone wanted to sit beside for some reason, for som inexplicable reason he had this… he had a spark that drew those to him like a moth to a flame, except he was that flame, and he shared his light eagerly with those around him.

Clarke relaxed her face after a few moments of looking and seeing and trying to find some kind of detail in that picture that would indicate that the couple in it would know what their life would like like two decades later. There wasn’t a single indication, and that terrified her.

“Did you finish you math?” her mother’s voice called from the hallway, hearing her daughter shift and move to look at the next picture without seeing her first.

“Yes.”

The next image was a very tiny Clarke on her father’s shoulders and her mother hugging his waist as they all stood beneath a redwood tree. They had hiking gear, shorts, sunglasses, hats and sunscreen. They were all smiling. They were a family.

“Did you email me that draft of your personal essay for applications?”

Clarke gave up perusing, no longer feeling the yearn for that family unit that was far away. She rolled her eyes and stomped her way down the steps to find her mother sorting through envelopes and mail.

“No.”

“Why not?” Abby didn’t look up as she flipped.

“Because I’m a junior, and I have five months before applications are due.”

“That’s no excuse not to be prepared. Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time chasing after some gir--”

“Who am I chasing after?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms and peering at her mother. “Do you mean helping Lexa on her submission for film school? Do you mean tennis practice? Do you mean working part time? Do you mean having a social life?”

“Considerate that you can help someone else get into college.”

“It’s going to take her months to edit, which I can’t-- I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

That did it. Clarke knew it would. Clarke new an overt expression of her own independence would trigger her mother. She knew arguing and not appearing to care about college would give her the satisfaction of a righteous fight. She wanted it. It’d been brewing for about a week and a half, ever since Clarke said she was going prom dress shopping without her. Ever since Clark forgot to tell her about spending the night camping with Lexa and the film crew while the powered through the project. Ever since Clarke didn't’ come home for dinner last Tuesday and then raved about Mrs. Woods’ garlic chicken. Tiny things Clarke did with spite because she didn’t know what else to do, because she couldn’t do anything else.

Abby’s nostrils flared and Clarke jutted her hip, shrugging to herself as she dug for her phone, ready to go to work and escape the house and the persistent smell of medical equipment and cleaner that haunted her until she was about two blocks from the house.

“I’ll be home around midnight.”

“Like hell you will. You’ll be home right after your shift.”

“No,” Clarke paused as she turned to leave. “I’m going over Lexa’s to study. We’re watching a Cary Grant movie.”

“You’re under the misconception that you get to make your own schedule and plans without asking permission. But that is not the case, Clarke.”

“I’ve been doing fine.”

“You’ve barely been home. Your father is--”

“Right there, in that room, asleep. I know this because I spent the morning with him. We made pancakes and played a game of cribbage. We talked about school and Lexa and I showed him pictures of the past week of my life. And I helped him with his meds because he’s having a bit of a flare. I told him I’d see him in the morning for omelettes because we’ve been watching cooking shows together and he wants to try the french style. I know exactly what is going on with my father.”

She hadn’t meant to, but her voice began to raise as she spoke. Clarke felt her fist shake. She felt her muscles tighten and her jaw clench. She was okay with being considered lazy and unmotivated, but to be accused of negligence was uncalled for, especially from someone like her mother.

“Don’t you raise your voice! You are greatly mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. I am your mother, and I am sick of your attitude, and your priorities not being your father and your family or your education.”

“Lexa has nothing to do with any of that. Are you just mad I’m dating a girl? Or that I don’t care what you think anymore?”

Slightly taken aback by her daughter, by her words, by her actions, by her entire demeanor over the past few months and frankly just sick of dealing with being the bad guy.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Abby shook her head.

“I could say the same thing.”

The two stared at each other before Clarke shook her head and adjusted her bag. She toyed with her keys in her pockets before checking her phone again.

“I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be back tonight.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Abby insisted again. “You’re grounded indefinitely.”

“Except I’m not,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. “I’m not because I don’t care anymore. I genuinely don’t.”

“You’re going to. Give me your keys and your phone.”

“No.”

“I’m not joking, Clarke. You’re going to need to readjust your priorities and attitude.”

“I think you should take your own advice,” Clarke insisted as she reached the front door. “Or are you too busy fucking Kane to realize that there is no more family here?”

With a satisfying slam, she yanked the door shut. The anger that was stationed in her shoulders dissipated with the noise and movement. Clarke stood there in the quiet of her perfect neighborhood, the flapping of the flag lazily moving in the spring breeze was all she heard at first. Then the birds came. Then a lawnmower started in the distance.

Clarke felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She also felt emptier than any other time in her life. It was officially the end, and now she had to deal with that because the anger and the hurt and the betrayal was all she’d had in her for what felt like months. It hadn’t made anything better, and it certainly ruined everything, but Clarke took some solace in the fact that now she could try to fill herself up with something else.

XXXXXXXXXX

The party at Bellamy Blake’s house was in full swing by the time Lexa made her way up the winding driveway and into the belly of the beast. She wasn’t sure how she ended up there exactly, except that her girlfriend texted and said to show up. That seemed to be enough of a reason, though Lexa wasn’t particularly prepared. They’d had plans. Quiet plans. Private plans. Movie plans.

And now Lexa was going to her girlfriend’s ex’s party.

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowd, clearly not getting the memo that jeans were not entirely good enough attire, and in fact she seemed to be extremely overdressed. Her eyes bugged slightly as she watched a girl from her physics class walk by in a very tiny, very teeny lime green bikini. Lexa became suddenly aware of the appeal of such things, as if she hadn’t noticed them before, but then MIchelle who sat diagonally in front of her third period looked like that and she gulped.

The music thumped loudly. The beats were rattling the walls and shaking the windows while the screams and giggles of her classmates sought to shatter glass. It wasn’t like the other parties she’d been to with Clarke. It wasn’t even like thrones Anya dragged her to when she visited. This was a night of debauchery and she hadn’t had time to prepare.

And as much as she saw everyone else wearing bikinis, she hadn’t thought about Clarke wearing one. She’d seen Clarke’s boobs before. That was nice. But there was something to her girlfriend in a bikini that was… good. Very good, even.

Lexa pushed her glasses up slightly on her nose and stared.

“What are you doing here?” Gus asked, approaching quietly. She didn’t move or say anything else, just stared from across the pool, the steam billowing upward to ward the sky while everyone seemed to glow blue and green and red, the lights alternating around them, the flames of the fire pits dancing to keep everyone warm. The warm glow of the lights inside were lost on the white-blue shade to the water.

“Lexa, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What are you doing here? Your sister would kill me if she knew you were at a Blake party.”

“How is it different than any other party?”

“It just is.”

“Because of the pool? I’ve been to pool parties.”

It hadn’t been since seventh grade and didn’t look like an episode of a CW show, but still, she’d been to a pool party with many of the same cast of characters that were currently on display. It was before puberty, but still.

“We need to get you home.”

“Clarke invited me.”

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your scene.”

“I can be in any scene. I’ve watched every John Hughes movie.”

“This is more of an episode of Euphoria than an 80s teen flick,” Gus sighed and took another swig from his cup. “And I fully believe you would fit in fine with Molly Ringwald.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

She took her eyes off of her girlfriend long enough to assure her friend that she was perfectly fine now. She was dating the head cheerleader. She’d been to parties and seen--

“Gus-- is that cocaine?”

“Okay, yeah, we have to get you out of here,” he shook his head and tossed his empty cup into a flowerbed.

“Is it really?” she asked, craning her neck as he pushed her forward. “I’ve never see that in real life before. People actually do that thing with the credit cards and dollar bills? Astounding. Where does one get cocaine?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

“I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious.”

They only made it a few steps before the ran into a sopping body. A tall, muscular, tan, perfectly chiseled and dripping body. It was the body of an actual god. It was the body of the perfect specimen, with biceps and the long swimmer cuts that pointed firmly toward his… his-ness.

“Gus, long time, man. How you been?” Bellamy Blake grinned before slipping his cup in his teeth as he hugged the other football player.

“Not too bad. Heard you’re heading to Oregon in the fall?”

“Yeah, partial scholarship. We’ll see what happens,” he shrugged. “Staying close?”

“Yeah, St. Johns, about three hours away.”

“Full ride?”

“Yeah. I got offered half to OSU, but would rather not have to pay anything.”

“No, that’s smart.”

The whole time they spoke, Lexa watched Clarke’s ex intently. She frowned to herself and wondered how her girlfriend broke up with him. He was effortlessly cool. He was huge. He looked like he knew how to go down on a girl, and Lexa was still apprehensive. She wished she could fast forward in life until she was really good at sex.

She watched him grin and sip from his red cup, meeting her eyes curiously as Gus explained something about his college recruitment process.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m Bellamy.”

He held out his hand. And though she didn’t want to do it, she sighed and shook his hand.

“Sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Lexa.”

“Lexa… Lexa…” He mulled.

“Anya Woods’ sister.”

“Wow, you’re Anya’s little sister?”

“Yeah.”

“How is she? I forgot she had a little sister. I remember her little brother died-- oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“We were just heading out,” Gus interrupted.

“I was actually just going to go talk to Clarke.”

“Why would you--”

Before anything else could be said, before anything else could transpire between the two of them, before Gus had to interrupt again, Clarke appeared, launching herself into her girlfriend’s arms, wrapping her own around her neck, her body still slightly damp from the pool she must have just climbed out of during the awkward introduction.

“You’re here. I’m so happy,” Clarke hummed against Lexa’s warm neck. She buried herself there, suffocating herself happily, slightly tipsy.

“I told you I’d stop by.”

Clarke kissed her girlfriend’s neck. She leaned most of her body against her there and giggled, oblivious to the eyes, too drunk to care about anything else happening.

“I am have the worst day. Maybe the worst week. Maybe the worst year ever. No, wait. Definitely the worst year, and today I finally told my mom everything and then left. So Yeah. It’s been terrible. I got drunk.”

“Not the healthiest coping mechanism.”

“Not a bit,” Clarke grinned, agreeing eagerly and with a wide grin. She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend despite her words.

“You can be healthy tomorrow,” Lexa offered. “You okay?”

“As okay as can be.”

There was some throat clearing that happened behind them, and Lexa felt a burning in her ears and chest at the display, unaccustomed to it all.

“So this is your new girlfriend?” Bellamy asked, looking at the pair.

“Lex, I suppose you’ve met my ex,” Clarke gestured.

“Kind of.”

“Is this party a little much?”

“If I remember correctly, this was exactly the kind of thing you liked. We went to many a party in our tenure,” Bellamy shrugged, lazily leaning against a counter. “Things changed since I left, I guess.”

“I enjoyed not thinking,” Clarke offered. “You were great for that.”

Gus and Lexa looked between the two and then at each other. She was almost certain she didn’t know what was happening, but that certainly, something was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“You moved on quick, huh?”

“Hey, step back,” Gus interrupted as Bellamy took a single step. “This is Anya’s sister.”

“Woods?” he furrowed. “You’re dating Anya Woods’ kid sister?”

“Yup,” Clarke nodded.

“I heard she was--”

“Standing right here,” Gus finished.

Lexa felt Clarke’s hand move into her own and she smiled despite the fact that she was picking up a drunk girl at her college guy ex’s party. There was a lot in that sentence she wasn’t happy about, now that she thought about it.

“You ready to get out of here?” Lexa asked innocently, ignoring the rest.

“I think we still have a few more shots lined up, Clarke,” Bellamy smiled and Lexa understood the need to punch.

Noticeably torn, she looked at her girlfriend and back at her ex before realizing that she was actually drunk, and that wasn’t good. Lexa smiled softly and rubbed her girlfriend’s back. She kind of imagined how it must have felt to implode and take her mother down with her. Lexa remembered the feeling of telling her father she was gay and sad. Clarke’s implosion didn’t seem as successful as her own, and Lexa was more than happy to try to help in whatever way she could.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I’ll text my mom to let her know.”

“You’re seriously leaving?” The college football player and terrible ex scoffed. “The night is still young. It’s barely after eleven.”

“Thanks for getting me drunk, but I should probably go do something better.”

“Thanks for showing me around,” Lexa offered nodding her head slightly toward the host before he could argue. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday, Gus.”

“Get home safe,” the linebacker warned.

Slightly dumbfounded, Bellamy Blake stood there, hands on his hips as he watched his ex weave through the crowd of people and disappear. As much s everything stayed the same, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of change, and how averse he was to it.

XXXXXXXXXX

“Here, you can, uh,” Lexa quickly moved through her bedroom, leaving her girlfriend standing by the bed. “I have some old sweats if you want.”

Already, Clarke began taking off her pants, and Lexa quickly looked in the drawers of her dresser. She felt the tips of her ears burn slightly as she looked over her shoulder, her girlfriend slumping into the bed, pants lost to the floor.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew it,” Clarke sighed, rubbing her face with both hands to ride herself of the spinning. “But I didn’t care. I just wanted to… you know…”

“You had it out with your mom. You just anted to go far away. I get it.”

“Don’t be nice to me. I knew better than to go, especially to anything involving Bellamy Blake.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t care about any of it. Just has drinks. I should have called you or like done something else.”

“You’re allowed to want to take a night off from a giant secret after a huge fight. And you don’t need my permission,” Lexa reminded her girlfriend, offering an old shirt.

“It was stupid.”

“Do you feel better?”

Gingerly, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, pulling it over her head until she flopped back down on the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillow. Agitated at herself, at her clothe, at the unfathomable uncontrollability to the entirety of her life, Clarke growled to herself as she tugged off her bra, tossing it to the side and gracelessly pulling on the shirt Lexa offered.

“I don’t feel better at all.”

It was certainly a pout, and Lexa did her best to ignore it. Instead, she slicked off the light beside the bed, and slid between the sheets next to Clarke. Lexa laid there until Clarke turned to face her, until she placed her hand on her neck and cheek.

“I’m sorry you had to pick me up.”

“It’s okay,” Lexa whispered.

“It’s not. I’m not like this… I don’t mean to be… I mean--”

“It’s okay.”

Clarke leaned forward, shifting beneath the blankets until their knees were touching. She moved to only push the hair from Lexa’s forehead and she paused before kissing her lips. She tasted the warmth of the tequila there and she didn’t care. Lexa signed.

“Please don’t give up on me anytime soon,” Clarke murmured. Stunned from the kiss, Lexa blinked in the dark and shifted closer.

“I wouldn’t ever.”

“I know you wouldn’t. I just had to say it out loud.”

“Okay.”

Lexa was certain she was going to get another kiss, but instead, Clarke dug her forehead under her girlfriend’s chin and pressed their bodies together, hugging her tightly and disappearing, being overwhelmed, anchoring herself to a steady force. Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back for a few moments until she fell asleep, and then she allowed herself the option of sleep.

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