#and i obviously could just wear any black trousers

[roots-of-asphodel]

the urge to cosplay as cesare grows stronger every day

[fingertipsmp3]

What in Christ am I even going to wear to work. Like.

[octuscle]

Pride fare

Dmitri and Igor stared at the young man with the pink hair like they would stare at a disgusting insect. It was brave of Austrian Airlines to place such a faggot at Istanbul's not exactly gay-friendly airport. And God knows Dmitri and Igor weren't exactly gay-friendly either. The two were the perfect example of nouveau riche Russians. They liked to pose as oligarchs to impress women. In fact, they were rich. But oligarchs? Not at all. But who cared. The two of them had several million in accounts all over the world. Unfortunately, most of them were currently frozen. But they had enough cash with them to look forward to a fun weekend in Vienna. Getting here had been hell. The two of them mourned the days of direct flights. But the special military operation was important and just. Quite different from the reaction of the decant West to this very operation.

Max looked at the two gentlemen who wanted to check in with him. Expensive, but tastelessly dressed. Overweight. Probably over 50, but you couldn't see that very well because both were obviously lifted. Max wouldn't blow one of these two pigs for any money in the world. But Max was a professional. And remained polite. "You two sweeties, you do know that the Pride special rate is only valid for people up to 21, right?" Dmitri grunted something about "I'm not cute, you miserable faggot." But luckily Max didn't speak Russian. "No problem, you two lovebirds, I just need to adjust a few little things." Max typed on the keyboard of his computer. "There, now everything should fit. Which one of you is Dima? I'd like your suitcase." Dmitri was about to get loud and snap at this asshole, what could he think of! Dima might have been what his mother said to him. But not some smug asshole. He took a breath. And thought that Max was actually kind of cute. So he picked up his suitcase, covered in rainbow and leather-pride stickers, and heaved it onto the baggage carousel. "And, darling! What's your boyfriend's name? I assume you want to sit next to each other." "Next to Igarjok? No thanks! Set us apart. That increases the chance that we'll meet someone hot on board." "I'm very sorry," said Max with a twinkle in his eye. "But no one who checked in with me today was really hot." "Okay, I'll go first then," said Igor, heaving his studded travel bag onto the baggage carousel. Max smiled with mock agony. Yes, the man Dima had called Igarjok didn't look bad for his age. According to his ID, he was 48, but hot… Max had seen better. He handed them their rainbow-flag-colored boarding passes and wished them a good flight and lots of fun at Vienna Pride Week.

The two took their hand luggage. Dmitri had a black leather rucksack, Igor a small antique army duffel bag from the Soviet navy. Dmitri called out to Igor that he should go ahead, he wanted to take a quick piss. Igor nodded and made his way to the security checkpoint. And Dmitri went to the nearest toilet. He had hoped to find a quick fuck there. He was always horny. In the airport toilets, there was a good chance of meeting a tight Turk. And if he waved a few dollar bills, Dmitri could be sure that he wouldn't have to wait long for someone to kneel in front of him and suck his cock… And damn, the hot Turkish macho was worth every penny! Dmitri briefly checked his reflection in the mirror. The short hair, the beard shadow on the angular face, the leather jacket. Yes, he was pretty good-looking for a man in his mid-40s. It was a privilege to be allowed to suck his cock.

When he arrived in the queue for the security check, he grinned. Igor was only ten, maybe 15 people ahead of him in the queue, obviously he had also made a toilet stop. It was hot to see Igor in front of him. Igor had one hell of a tight ass. And in the army trousers he was wearing, it really stood out. He knew that. And everyone else saw that. Dmitir could see Igor arriving at the security checkpoint. He took off his bomber jacket and showed off his muscles under his tight T-shirt. He took off his studded belt, put everything in the plastic tray and went through the body scanner. It sounded the alarm. Dmitri had an idea why and grinned. Igor grinned too as he was scanned by the muscular security guard. Amazingly thorough in the crotch area. Of course, Dmitri couldn't hear anything, but obviously the security guard demanded that Igor take his plastic bowl and come with him. The two of them were lucky!

When Dmitri arrived at the security checkpoint, the employee looked decidedly cool. Dmitri had put his jacket and rucksack in the tray when the officer asked if he had anything else in his pants. He looked very clearly at Dmitri's crotch. Dmitri unbuttoned the top two buttons, enough to show the bush of hair, put his hands in his pants and awkwardly removed the cock ring from his cock and balls. "Sorry, officer, I keep forgetting that," Dmitri said with a grin. Surprisingly, despite his piercings, the body scanner didn't pick up on it. But his rucksack was taken off the conveyor belt after being scanned. The security officer waved him over, pulled his full-body harness out of the backpack and asked what it was. The officer tried unsuccessfully to look cool. "Shall I show you what it is? But I have to take my pants off to do that…" "Come with me!"

Dmitri's body search took place in the same room as Igor's. The two security officers had brought in two more colleagues to back them up. Only by joining forces did the two of them manage to plug all the holes and get on board just in time with the final and urgent call. Igor squeezed into 9E and Dmitri into 6C. Max had gone to great lengths to make them both happy. And indeed, after the two Russian stallions, the hottest guys sat in 6B, 9D and 9F. And the purser had reserved one of the toilets just for them.

At the baggage carousel in Vienna, there was no mistaking that the gays of the world were meeting up for one of their flashiest parties. And Dima and Igarjok were guests of honor at the party. Hardly noticed in the West, it was a sensation in Moscow when the two popular teen soap stars came out. The call-up order came immediately, and the two had only managed to flee to Western Europe in a hasty escape. And it was a huge stroke of luck that they had started making porn due to a lack of money. For them and for millions of fans. They didn't know how many porn magazines they had signed until their luggage arrived. Their driver was waiting outside. A hot guy. Thank goodness. It had been over an hour since their last fuck on the plane.

[wetsocksinbed]

dropping some lore for my followers, but here’s a list of things that the doomsday cult I was raised in banned and forbade:

• Celebrating your birthday. I’m 24 next month and it’ll be my first birthday

• Celebrate Christmas, Halloween and Easter. All stem from pagan beliefs (yes including Christmas), which is “satanic”

• Do afterschool activities like joining a sports team or a club. You risk being “influenced by the world” and may be “tricked into joining Satan’s world”

• Have friends that weren’t part of the religion. We could play with kids at school but god forbid we asked mum and dad if those kids could come over to play. See above for reason why.

• Have sex before marriage. Even kissing someone on the lips is seen as taboo.

• Be anything other than Straight. You’re obviously mentally ill, you’re confused, it’s just a phase, it’s Satans World

• Seek higher education after high school. This is considered viewing yourself as better than others. Also you might “be influenced by satans world” and “commit immoral acts” if you’re around people who aren’t part of your religion. Instead you’re pushed to become a missionary and preach in places “where the need is great” aka poor and impoverished places

• Own anything expensive. You clearly think you’re better than everyone else

• Like a band/singer/actor and own posters of them. This is considered idolatry.

• Get tattoos or piercings. One lobe piercing one each ear was acceptable though.

• Dye your hair a colour that wasn’t brown, black or blonde. You’re being influenced by the world.

• Wear trousers/pants to church. Only men are allowed that. Women must wear a dress or skirt.

• Have a role in the church. Only men can give talks/sermons or “shepherd the flock”

• Wear a head covering if you say a prayer in a room with a man who is in the church. You must show submission to him in front of god

• Never get divorced. If you do, then you’re forbidden from marrying again

• Have any opinions that differ from the general belief of the church. If you don’t believe humanity started 6000 years ago in Eden, you’re essentially a heretic.

[cads-the-cat]

I was on a stroll through the city and thinking about Sleep Token, as you do, and realised I need them on a red carpet ASAP in formal wear. Hear me out:

Vessel is wearing a suit, but no shirt underneath since he doesn't know what a shirt is. He's just wearing the jacket and trousers with upper chest/collarbone area exposed with either some golden runes painted there or just minimal jewellery

ii is very classic in a three piece suit because dude is sophisticated

We all know iii would absolutely slay a red carpet because they have an impeccable sense of fashion and it's gonna be something extravagant (let's be real we all want to see iii in a dress or skirt but I'm happy with whatever)

ivy will also go classic with all black shirt, trousers and jacket because he's allergic to colour. Maybe some rings or golden accents. But he's worn a nice jacket on stage and looked stunning as always so I know he'd look amazing and his look would be something the ivy girls, gays and theys would not survive (okay, we wouldn't survive any of the bands outfits)

They'd obviously still wear masks and everyone apart from iii would have to figure out what to do with their hair and how to cover it but that's a problem for later

Espera will obviously also be there because how could they not. They are goddesses and would slay a red carpet

Mattie would look stunning in a midnight blue gown

Lyns maybe in softer cottage core vibes

Paige in a black jumpsuit

[secondaxispoint]

heyyyy I'm absolutely crazy over din djarin rn and I was requesting if you could write a fic where you've already been together for a year, so for your anniversary he decides to reveal his face to you?

Pairing: Din Djarin x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Fluff!

I am also going crazy over Din so this was a treat. 😌 Thanks for the request!!

Your New Favourite Colour 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow was the day that Din had asked you to be his boyfriend. Just thinking back on that memory warmed you to your very core. You doubted that he even remembered but you didn’t mind. He had a lot on his plate and you knew that he loved you regardless of celebrations or anniversaries. You had gone out the last time you were on-planet to get a small gift for him.

You arrived back to the Crest with a new cleaning cloth and a pulse rifle for Din and a jar of the little blue cookies for the kid. It was easier to hide the weapon from the Mandalorian than it was to hide the cookies from Grogu. He was grabbing at your trousers and babbling every time he saw you. Din gave you a confused tilt of his head when you grabbed him and hustled into the corridor.

“You can get your present tomorrow but you have to keep it a secret.”

Grogu rambled, saying nothing but obviously requesting the cookies now that he knew they were on board.

“I know, I know. I have a gift for both you and your dad but you can’t have it until tomorrow. I know you can do it Grogu, it’s just one night.”

He frowned but seemed to understand. You patted his head and thanked him quietly. He giggled and made grabby hands at your face. You walked back into the cockpit and sat down with Grogu in your lap. When Din looked over, you flashed him a lazy smile and Grogu cooed. He turned back and prepared for takeoff.

After you were a comfortable distance from any danger, the both of you prepared for the night. Once Grogu was comfortable and asleep in his little hammock, you stripped yourself of your outerwear. You watched as Din did the same. He took off most of his armour, leaving the helmet on as always. He settled into the small sleeping area and nestled into the corner, leaving room for you.

You burrowed in next to him, his helmet buried into your chest. You longed to see the man under the armour. You had loved him for over a year and hadn’t seen his face. You wished to kiss him and run your hands through his hair. Anything. But you respected his creed and kept your thoughts to yourself. But you did let yourself wonder what he looked like. He probably had short hair. Or at least short enough to tuck under his helmet. You tried to think of other features but just couldn’t. You slowly fell asleep in a quiet, peaceful atmosphere of the Razor Crest.

Din woke up and slipped out of your grasp, trying his very best not to wake you. He needed to grab the present he got for you. He got a warm toned bandana, after you had lost yours in the dunes of Tatooine, and a new holster for your blaster since your current one was a bit torn up. He also had other plans that he was extremely nervous about. He wanted to show you his face. He had already broken his creed for Grogu so why not for you too.

So he dressed back in his armour and made food. It was an easy breakfast that you would hopefully enjoy before figuring out whatever plans you had for the day. He set the plates out on the small table and walked back to find you changing by the sleeping area. His mouth went dry as he saw you tug off the shirt you wore to bed and toss it onto the bed. No matter how many times he saw you topless, he would never not be flustered by you. You dug through your drawer and grabbed a spare change of blacks to wear under your armour. 

You turned to see the Mandalorian standing motionless in the corridor. You gave him a reserved smile and walked up to him. You bumped your forehead against his and offered him a quiet ‘good morning’. He nodded his head and motioned towards the cramped kitchen. You noticed the meal he made and grabbed his arm, tugging him to the table. You took big bites and finished quickly, allowing Din the privacy to eat without being worried about hiding his face or lifting his helmet.

Din finished his breakfast just as quick and disposed of his dishes. He found you sitting with Grogu on the floor. He was playing with his ball and squealing. You watched him fondly and gave Din the same look when he sat down across from you.

“Any ideas for today?’

He asked you quietly. Grogu proudly presented his toy to his dad.

“Nothing set in stone.”

He tilted his head up and you watched the interaction between Din and the kid.

“I think just spending the day with you is good enough for me.”

You grinned at him. You both got to your feet to grab the presents you had gotten for each other. You met back where Grogu was continuing to play and sat back on the floor. He tossed the ball back on the floor and waddled towards you, apparently sensing the cookies hidden behind your back. You heard Din laugh through the modulator when you put the jar down in front of you. Grogu sat himself in your lap and you sat Din’s gifts by your legs. You heard him gasp when the rifle came into view. The two of you exchange presents and thanks. You scoot to sit next to him and watch as he admires the new rifle you got him. 

You, Din, and Grogu spent the day together. It was peaceful but you sensed that there was something bothering your partner. You wanted to bring it up but every time you tried, he brushed it off and said it was nothing. It wasn’t till the sun started to set and the kid was already in bed that he addressed it.

“You know about the time I showed my face?”

You looked at him but said nothing.

“I broke the creed for Grogu when I thought I’d never see him again. After that I was no longer considered a real Mandalorian. I always thought that their way was the way. But I’m making my own way now, and I want you to be a part of it.”

You turned to him fully, realising what he was about to do. He slowly reached up to the bottom of his helmet. Your eyes followed him as he pulled the beskar off his head and set it down next to him. You looked up to see the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes upon. He had shaggy, dark brown hair. He had stubble and deep chocolate eyes. You decided that you had a new favourite colour. You brought a hand up to his face and placed it gently on his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“Din.”

He opened his eyes and looked into yours.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to a name.”

You smiled and pulled him forward to kiss his forehead. He looked incredibly relieved and basically melted into you.

“Happy anniversary Din.”

“Happy anniversary cyar’ika”

[nectar-cellar]

mortimer's closet

i want to ramble about the sense of style i have in mind for morty. this is more for my own reference than anything but feel free to read if interested. with the previous version of mortimer, i never felt inspired to develop any looks for him, his appearance just didn't speak to me. i did not have a strong inspiration/direction when i was making him either.

this new version is a much better muse.

colours: red and black is obviously morty's signature combo, but i wanted to work some more colour into his wardrobe. i thought some muted cool colours (blue and purple) would actually suit him really well because of his pale skin and black hair. i also thought cream (a sweater or some trousers) would complement the black and red colour scheme but i didn't make any outfits with it. for some brighter colours i could see him wearing teals, emeralds, and golds. i feel like earthy, warm colours (oranges, browns, greens, pinks, beiges) and neon colours would look very out of place on him.

everyday 01: sports coat, turtleneck sweater, wool or tweed trousers. his outfit for running errands where he'll be seen in public. comfortable, relaxed but still quite mature and luxe to reflect his personality and background.

everyday 02: a shirt with rolled up sleeves and slacks. he's not a fan of jeans. this is as casual as he gets.

formal 01: pinstripe double breasted suit. i always associate pinstripe with mortimer's old school vibe. this look is very vintage wall street yuppie. this is his power suit !

formal 02: a sleek, modern charcoal suit for any formal occasion. business meetings, weddings, funerals, divorce proceedings...

outerwear: this peacoat just suits him so well.

athletic: a long sleeve shirt for working out because he'd be too embarrassed to show any skin up top. all his workout gear is monochrome. sadly, no neon spandex for him.

sleepwear: a pair of silky red undies because red is his signature color! i added gold lettering because his TS4 default outfit has a bit of gold in it. and you know this man only wears designer underwear.

swimwear: a pair of silky lightweight swim trunks with designer print on them. these are the only colorful, printed clothes he has in his closet. he feels lighter and more relaxed just looking at them.

[lookingfts]

More of older Kate and younger Anthony. It's a tragedy we don't have more fics of that age gap. It's always older Anthony - which is great but I would like to see how it could work with older Kate. So many possibilities. I hope one day you wiil be brave enough to give that trope a try. Maybe you will inspire other writers to do so too.

Here's a little more!

--

“Hey, Kate.”

She really wished he wouldn’t use that fucking voice on her. The soft, rich one that made her knees go a little weak and blood rush to her face, as if he literally wasn’t just saying hello.

“Hi, Anthony,” she said evenly, taking a sip of her Moscato. “Good to see you.”

His warm eyes flicked over her body, subtly, but not fast enough for Kate not to notice. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Truthfully, she felt a bit awkward. She hadn’t worn this dress in at least eight years, on Tom’s arm at some work event. It was drapey silver fabric, with jeweled straps and a high slit in the back. Kate knew it still looked good, knew her figure hadn’t changed much in that time, but she felt a little like she had then. Like she was playacting to fit in among a bunch of people she had nothing in common with. “Thank you. You look nice as well.”

Nice was a hilarious understatement. He was wearing a white button-down, rolled up to his elbows, and navy trousers that made his arse look like a work of art. 

Well. He’d obviously worked hard for that arse; he did deserve to show it off, she supposed.

He smiled crookedly, resting his elbow against the table, and Kate took a breath. The last thing she needed was for Anthony Bridgerton to pay any actual attention to her. His glances from across the room were enough to fuck with her head. If he was going to linger around her and tell her how beautiful she looked, things were going to fall apart quickly.

“You didn’t look like you were having a great time,” Anthony said, some of the artificial charm leaking from his voice, replaced with genuine curiosity. “I thought you might like some company.”

Kate met his eyes. He was watching her intently, as if he had honestly been concerned about her, and-

Fuck, he was good. It was no wonder that women were burning their knickers for him left and right. He had multiple tricks up his sleeve - if they didn’t fall for the swagger, he swung to personal interest.

“I’m having a great time,” she said with a shrug. “Thank you, though.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been standing in this corner half the night.”

Kate’s jaw tightened. No way he had been watching her that closely. It was true, though - Violet had pleaded with her to come, but she had hostess duties and could hardly cling to Kate’s side all evening. “I think there are other people here who are actually seeking your attention.”

He frowned. “Who, the people from my father’s company? It may not surprise you to learn that they’re all dicks.”

That did not surprise her, but Kate scoffed anyway. “I was thinking more like your girlfriend over there.”

Anthony’s eyes shot to where she had gestured - the pretty young brunette who was wearing a skintight black leather dress and flashing a truly impressive fuck me gaze.

“Siena’s not my girlfriend,” he said, seeming annoyed at the insinuation. “She’s a friend of the family-.”

“But you’ve slept with her, right?” Kate interrupted. He looked a little taken aback, and even she couldn’t account for why she said it with such disdain. “I’m friends with your mum. Don’t bother trying to bullshit me.”

Eyes growing heated, Anthony took a step toward her, until they were eye to eye and all she could smell was his citrusy cologne and the bite of whiskey on his breath. “Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.”

“You know what my mum has told you about me. You’ve met me a few times now. Don’t bother trying to bullshit me, Kate. You’ve seen enough to decide not to give me a chance.”

Heat pricked at the back of her neck, something dangerous brewing in the static air between them. “Give you a chance to do what?”

“To get to know you,” Anthony murmured, his eyes dropping briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. “To spend time with you.”

Kate couldn’t help it. She didn’t know what else to do but laugh, at the ridiculousness of the situation, at the unbearable tension that strung them together. “You’re twenty-five.”

“Does that matter?”

“Do you even know how old I am?”

“You’re thirty-seven,” he said easily, not sounding fazed in the slightest. “And you’re smart, and funny, and fucking gorgeous, and I…god, Kate. If you had any idea, the dreams I’ve had of you.”

A shiver worked up her spine at the way he was looking at her. The face of a man dying to act out his filthiest fantasies. And something in her ached to let him.

Kate swallowed. This had already gone too far. She should have cut it off the second he approached her. “You need to stop.”

“Because you want me to? Or because you have some arbitrary reason why you think we shouldn’t?” he challenged. Reaching out, Anthony slid his large hand over her forearm, goosebumps erupting over her skin. “Tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t want a single thing from me, and I’ll walk away and never bother you again.”

It was so easy. To just push the words past her lips, I don’t want you. You’re not worth what I could lose. Give up on this foolish notion of us, before it bites us both in the arse. He needed to hear it, and Kate would only be giving him the out that he would seek himself, sooner or later.

Instead, she brushed his hand off her arm, shaking her head minutely. “Good night, Anthony.”

And as she slipped around him, Kate forced herself not to look back.

[bringbacktim]

fwb roommate!schlatt wearing a compression shirt omgogmogomgomg i wanna ride him while he has only the shirt on

I genuinely had to look up what a compression shirt was , but Oh my god I agree wholeheartedly

Gym shirt- Jschlatt

Synopsis above

Warnings: Smut, sex , not edited or proofread , first time smut writing

Word count :985 ( I went way overboard)

Schlatt had just gotten back from a trip to the gym with one of his friends and he was sporting a very flattering black compression shirt that he wears every time cause it helps with blood flow during a workout or whatever, he thought nothing of it it was the shirt he always wore to the gym so why would this time be any different

Well , he could barely get two steps in the door before his (hot) roommate, who he casually hooked up with , launched from the couch and clung to him like a koala

"Someone's excited to see me " he said dropping his bag to his side and holding the underside of her thighs to stabilise the attack

" you're always so mean to me " she laughed peppering kisses along his neck as he gladly let her

" are you going to let me get to the shower or just cling to me forever"

"Is that an invitation?" She asked smugly

" no , I'd be too tempted to drown you" he laughed as she ignored him too turned on by the sight of him in this magnificent shirt

" why don't you skip the shower tonight?" She asked as he finally put her down and she dragged her finger down then front of the shirt , his hands firmly on her hips

" what's got you all turned on tonight ?" He asked knowing it was him but wanting to hear her say it

"You absolutely glistening in that tight shirt , I want to ride you into that couch" she smirked knowing he'd let her

"In just this shirt huh?" He taunted her knowing how hot he was acting (and looking)

"I know there's a condom in that gym bag for when I go with you occasionally" she said reaching down to grab it from the front pocket

"Don't get smart with me broad"

"I can always go the gym and find some other hot shirt wearing guy to fuck if you can't" she tried to tease , but he was smarter than that

"But none of those guys can fuck you like I can and you know that" he said through almost gritted teeth

"Prove it then" she dared him

About 3 seconds after those words left her mouth she was pulled onto his lap as he sat on the couch y/n was watching some random forgotten tv show on before schlatt came home

His trousers had been lost to the new pile of clothes disappearing on the floor , soon after her pajama bottoms also followed

As y/n straddled schlatt she couldn't believe that he had actually agreed to let him ride her in his t-shirt still hot and sweaty from the gym

Quite quickly the room became full of heavy breathes , open mouthed kisses on every inch of skin either of them could reach , but obviously no hickies because then they couldn't sleep with anyone else ( not that either of them wanted to )

Foreplay was out the window as soon as they started making out against the door , there was absolutely no need for it they were both turned on to another dimension at this fantasy

"As much as I love making out with you , can you hurry the fuck up and ride me into this couch like you promised" he said holding her hips firmly and grinding them over his as he hanged his head over the back of the aforementioned couch , shut his eyes, and groaned in pleasure

"If you insist" without even bothering to lift his head from the back of the furniture he could feel that she was hovering above him and lining himself up with her , but had to stop after the first inch and a half due to the absolute size of him

"Fu-fuck always forget how big you are" she whined from on top as she grabbed his shoulders for stability

"They don't call me big guy for nothing toots" he laughed finally looking at her who was now trying to make her way down his dick

A lot of gibberish was spoken and eyes were rolled back as she sat flush down with his hips , balling his shirt in her hands and moaning about how hot he looked in it as he basked in how hot she was

"Don't ever stop wearing this fuck shit shirt " she moaned as their bodies made various slapping noises as their skin connected

"Taking me so well fuck you're so good at this"

"This is going to be the shortest sex we've ever had" she said staring in his eyes as she bounced harder than ever on him as he agreed via moaning louder and more frequently than he had been

"Worth it" schlatt breathlessly said into her ear as she leant her head on his shoulder whining that he was so big and making her feel so good

Y/n's moans went almost too high pitched and deafening when he found her clit and started rubbing it in circles

"Oh fuck do that again" she begged trapping his hand there

"Don't even have to search for it ,can feel you throbbing through my shirt" he rubbed harder and in sloppy circles this time

"Gonna come , gonna come" tears pricked in the corners of her eyes out of pure pleasure and she never wanted it to end

He wasn't far behind her , it was far too hot for him to see his roommate (who he definitely hadn't caught feelings for) bouncing on his cock and crying and whining about how full she was of him and how good he made her feel just because of some gym shirt

"This is going to become my new favourite shirt" he half joked as he leant over the arm of the sofa to grab some tissues and clean her up

"I can agree on that one"

[harveyguilleniconodelamoda]

Style with Impact

Harvey accepted an NHMC Impact Award for Outstanding Performance in a Series last night, dressed in a stunning corseted black suit. At this time I have not been able to confirm the designer (though that cropped jacket with a single button closure screams Siriano to me), but I can break down some of the details of the suit and talk about why it works so well.

The Jacket

This is a modernized take on the classic tuxedo jacket, with peaked lapels decorated with floral lace, embroidery, and pearls. The black on black of the floral pattern lends a sophisticated subtlety and contrasts beautifully with the bright gleam of the pearls. It's a nice balance between the traditional and the theatrical.

The hem of the jacket is also modernized, with a cropped hem and a single-button closure that sits right at his waist. This, along with the peaked lapel, highlights the breadth of his chest and shoulders in a beautiful way, which in turn emphasizes the cinching effect created by the corset.

The silver on the shirt picks up the gleam of the pearls as well, and the contrasting patterns between the shirt and the jacket lapels work really well to create visual interest and make each other pop. Mixing patterns is tricky, and can end up looking loud and busy. But the harmony between the colors and the organic shapes in both patterns really make this pairing work.

The Corset

Speaking of which...instead of a longline jacket, Harvey paired the cropped hemline with a corset in the same color and material. This extends the line of the jacket visually, but creates a much sleaker silhouette than could be achieved with a traditional longline jacket. The vertical lines further draw the eye downward, with the final result being a silhouette that plays with the lines of gender expectations around formalwear. The effect is both powerful and alluring.

The Pants

The pants were also made of the same material as the jacket. They appear to be a standard wide-leg trouser cut. I like that they were hemmed and tailored for Harvey, but the drape of the fabric around the knees leaves something to be desired, just for me personally.

That being said, while I don't think the pants necessarily have as much oomph as the top of the outfit, I'm not sure they need it. If every piece of an outfit pulls focus, the result can feel too busy and incoherent. The pants are a nice, simple pairing that leave the top of the outfit to shine.

The Shoes

Once again, Harvey wears platform boots instead of a traditional dress shoe. I really like this choice! It adds a bit of edge to every outfit, and adds a bit of height instead. Nothing wrong with being short, obviously. But I know well the feeling of wanting that little extra bit of height at an event, and there's nothing like a really solid, sturdy pair of platform boots to make you feel like a badass!

All of that being said, Harvey looked incredible as always, with a little help from makeup artist Romie Macedo and hair stylist Connie Agawin, both of whom he works with frequently for red carpet events and other public appearances. I can't wait to see what other red carpet looks Harvey serves this year! And if I find out any more details about this gorgeous suit, the shirt, or those shoes, I'll be sure to post an update!

When all the other dudes in the friend group got the group discount at Prom Emporium but you were determined to make a statement.

[notmoreflippingelves]

So in the middle of my rewatch, I suddenly got really distracted by Francisco's black-with-gold-accents "formal" court attire, specifically in regards to the leaf accents on the sleeves. And I could help but think of the *other* black-with-gold-leaf accents look that we see on a Flores family member--Esteban's in "Elena and the Secret of Avalor." Although the designs between the two suits are distinctly different, there is enough of a similarity to make me want to think about them as a set and how the differences actually reflect the differences in the characters/their roles as well.

Although the silhouettes are similar overall, I would go far as to say that Francisco's look creates more of the classic "storybook prince" vibe than his grandson's. His costume is ornate and grand without seeming ostentatious. Think of how Prince Charming is costumed in pretty much any Cinderella adaptation. He must look striking and appropriately heroic--but specifically in a way that enhances our heroine without overshadowing her. And in nearly every adaptation, Prince Charming is more than okay with this, and the same is true of Francisco. He is at some level aware that he is on a show called "Elena of Avalor"--not "Francisco Flores of Avalor" and has no desire to pull the spotlight away from where it rightfully must be. In fact, he is far prouder to be the grandfather of Elena (and of Esteban and Isabel as well) than he would hypothetically be as the protagonist of his own story.

(Esteban meanwhile exudes "main character energy" and I mean that in both the complimentary and derogatory sense. In his mind, he is on a show titled "Chancellor Esteban of Avalor and His 41-Year-Old Guilt Complex That Not Even Tres Leches Cake Can Heal." But like if I had four decades of trauma to process and no one else seemed to notice, I would probably feel uncomfortable when we are not about me as well. And fittingly, his black-and-gold outfit is much more attention-grabbing than Francisco's, but much more on that later).

Two big parts of what leads to the "fairy tale hero" look in Francisco's outfit (and also to his "default" blue version) are: 1) the two medals pinned to his chest and 2) the epaulettes at the shoulder (I believe this is still the correct term even if they lack the tassels we normally associate w/the term, but like fashion historians can feel free to correct me).

Either epaulettes or medals of honor --or both-- are often seen on characters of his type. (Pick any Disney prince and you have a 50% chance of seeing one of these. Heck, King Roland's main outfit in SoA has both as well). A large part of what leads us to associate these particular sartorial touches as "hero-coded" are their association as part of typical military dress uniforms throughout history. (And yes, I recognize the problematic nature of such a trope, but just bear with me and accept it for now).

By including these as part of Francisco's costume (and its original blue equivalent), the animators are implying that he has a long, proud of history of serving his country and that at least some of this service came as a soldier and/or commander on the battlefield. And that he won honor--military and practical alike--in doing so.

Esteban's ensemble, obviously lacks the military touches (the epaulettes and medals) of his grandfather's. Because for all that he too served Avalor for decades, his service was of the bureaucratic rather than the military variety. (Shuriki obviously won't let Esteban wear a sword with his uniform--even he wanted to. Hardly surprising considering the whole "I killed your aunt and uncle. Doesn't that make you want to go apeshit?" thing they've got going.) But I digress.

The arms (esp the shoulders) and trousers of Esteban's ensemble are also much more form-fitted than Francisco's,as befitting a younger, more athletic man who wants to better show off his physique. (The real "secret of Avalor" is how Esteban singlehandedly managed a country for 41 years and somehow did so without skipping "Leg Day"--am I right, folks?")

Compared to Francisco's much plainer jacket, the design of Esteban's coat is also more ornate (the leaf accents are larger and more detailed) and colorful with the red collar, cuffs, and lining. This makes sense given that Esteban is established as much vainer and more flamboyant than his grandfather and that he has as mentioned, a much stronger need to grab attention.

However, the elaborateness of Esteban's jacket makes even more sense we consider it in the context of his role in Shuriki's court. He is a skilled diplomat, yes, and a capable administrator. But like every courtier, his primary function is to be ornamental first and everything else second. His looks, his charm, his attentions are expected to always be in service to the Queen first and foremost--not even in service to his duty or his country but specifically to the Queen herself. Certainly not (!) in service to his own will. (And damn, that must sting extra hard for someone who has only ever wanted to be seen and listened to and valued for himself.)

As such, Esteban is treated as an extension of the Queen--yet another pretty-if-powerful tool in her Almighty hands and fundamentally little different from her pretty crystal wand.

And yet, we see little tiny little hints in Esteban's SoA costume that he remains more than just Shuriki's shiny little Avaloran ornament. Let's go back to the red accents--shall we? Obviously, the show as a whole establishes red as Esteban's "signature color"--an honor he shares with Elena (and Mateo..but like he's less relevant tbh). Moreover, red, along with yellow/gold (and blue but again less relevant here), is one of the official colors of Avalor. Indeed the jaquins on the royal flag are red against a gold backdrop. So we can see an subtle wardrobe-related foreshadowing of where Esteban's loyalties truly lie and of the decision that he will make at the end of the episode.

And finally, as the artists among you will attest, red's complementary opposite on the color wheel is green. As in Shuriki's signature color, and this is reflected in nearly everything about her--from her eyes and eyeshadow to her dress and earrings to her green magical smoke, to her Emerald City-core dressing room to the teal background on her little silhouetted flag redesign. And complementary colors are often paired together so that the unique, striking shade of each is shown off to its full potential--and such is the case here. (Often, the effect is even achieved by using the "opposite" color as a key part of adding "shading" to the object).

A string of red lights wrapped around a Christmas tree may be overshadowed at first by the massive green boughs that it is entangled around. But nevertheless, it is because of the contrasting green that we are fully able to grasp just how bright and red those lights are able to glisten in the light. And so it is with Esteban's red collar shining forth like a beacon through Shuriki's haze of green smoke.

But when it comes down to it, red is still green's perfect, natural opposite. Red is a primary color, a true chromatic original unlike the artificially-created secondary shade of green. Moreover, red is Avalor, red is Esteban. The little dab of invading, interloping Shuriki green that has been added to the red paint only serves to heighten its fiery, crimson hue all the more.

[pyromaniacbibliophile]

Snakes, Books and Radio; 1919 broadcast {featuring Rosie}

Aziraphale walked into the large entrance room. It was absolutely full of people, all dressed in the latest fashion. Namely, cocktail and flapper dresses, suits and ties. This was 1919 of course, what else would one expect? The war had ended in June, three months ago. He was very glad, it had been nigh impossible to aquire books, even in America as he was.

To celebrate, when one of his acquaintances had invited him to this party, he had said yes. Before, he had planned to return to England and his beloved bookshop , but seeing as this was a time of joy and peace, he thought that he may as well party.

He wore his best outfit, a light beige suit and trousers with a crisp white shirt and blue tie. Accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter, he surveyed the room. For some reason, his eye was drawn to (he presumed) a couple, who were talking languidly in a corner.

The man was quite young, obviously to a semi-immortal angel everyone was young but this man looked young, if he had to guess he would say mid twenties. He had light brown skin, messily styled brown hair, thin glasses balanced on his nose, strangely red eyes and he was wearing a white shirt with a red-brown waistcoat. A red rose was tucked into his pocket.

His partner was shapely and tall, with strawberry blond hair in a bob, dark eyes, pale skin, a lovely pink feathered hat and a light pink blouse with darker accents tucked into a dark pink skirt.

Aziraphale could not understand why he was drawn to them, both were definitely human and didn't look too different from everyone else. Tearing his eyes away, he looked around further and nearly spat out his drink. Crowley was not who he expected to see, and certainly not looking like-like that!

The demon's hair was far longer than usual and fell down his back in g̶o̶r̶g̶e̶o̶u̶s̶ red waves. That was not the only change, if it was the angel probably wouldn't have been so stunned. However, Crowley was wearing a (black) dress. Not only that, but h̶e̶, well, h̶e̶ had a-a bosom! And hips and a waist and-well, all the evidence pointed to the demon being female. It was definitely Crowley, but Aziraphale was fairly confident the last time they had met, Crowley was decidedly male.

Walking over, he tapped the demon on the shoulder. Crowley span around delightedly "Heya Zira, darling" she purred "fancy seeing you here."

Unsure quite how to reply, he was quite relieved when their host, Charles Adrieux, who had been talking to Crowley, exclaimed happily "I say! Mr Fell, I didn't know you and Adeline were acquainted. Magnificent! Now I can seat you two together at lunch."

He darted off before Aziraphale could comment. Turning instead to Crowley, he asked incredulously "Adeline?"

"Why yes, Adeline.J.Crowley, at your service." she curtsied.

"Well-I- That is entirely beside the point. What are you doing here? I'll have you know, Mr Adrieux is a dear friend of mine and" he was interrupted by Crow-Adeline laughing.

"Relax Angel, I'm not here for anything nefarious. Actually, Charles is" and here her eyes sparkled mischievously "as much a dear friend of mine as he is of yours. I'm just here to celebrate! Am I not allowed to have fun? Or is that a privilege taken away when one strolls leisurely downwards, if you catch my drift?"

" I suppose a tiny bit of fun might be permitted.... " He said, hoping it was the safest answer.

"Spectacular! Well Angel, would you do me the honour of being my partner for the evening?"

He must have looked stunned as Adeline added"no need to worry, it's not like any of your lot would ever come down here unless either you were in severe trouble or the world was ending, neither of which is happening so we're fine"

He wanted to protest, after all, despite her change in looks, she was still a demon, the Enemy... But her points did make sense, and one night did not friends make..."Alright then."

Adeline grinned. Just then, a loud voice boomed "Greetings everyone! It is such a pleasure to see all my friends here to celebrate the war's end!" There was a large cheer. "Now, my chefs have prepared a delectable feast, if you would start to enter the dining room, your seating will be assigned." Charles shouted into a megaphone with delight.

"so, how did you meet Charles?" she enquired

"I could ask you the same thing, Ladies first and all. "

"Well played, let me see. I believe we first met in Italy actually, he runs in similar circles as I." Aziraphale was astounded. He knew all about the sort of people Adeline's circles tended to attract, he would never have thought.. "Charles? Really?"

"Really, you wouldn't think so looking at him, would you?"

The Angel replied in the negative , then both quieted as they entered the large dining room. Quickly, they found their seats, flowery script on neat cards next to each other proclaimed

𝓜𝓻 𝓐. 𝓩𝓲𝓻𝓪. 𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓵

𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓐𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮. 𝓙. 𝓒𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓵𝓮𝔂

Taking their seats, they fell back into conversation, after all, it had been years since their last meeting. About 5 minutes later, they were joined by their seating partners, who were, funnily enough, the couple Aziraphale had been drawn to earlier. The man drew out the chair for the lady and then sat. Looking subtly over, Aziraphale could see their cards read

𝓜𝓻 𝓐𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻.𝓒𝓸𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓮𝓻

𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓛𝓮𝓿𝓲 -𝓥𝓲𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓮

Adeline, who was seated next to 'Alastor', introduced herself "Hello, I'm Miss Crowley, but please, call me Adeline. May I have the pleasure of your names?"

"A pleasure indeed to meet such a fine lady, my name is Alastor and this is my good friend Rosie." He said smoothly, kissing the back of her hand.

Aziraphale felt suddenly slightly jealous, but couldn't imagine why. The lady, Rosie, then enquired "And who might you be?"

Realising he hadn't introduced himself yet, he spoke"oh, how terribly rude of me, I'm Zira. Adeline and I are old friends."

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet both of you."The four began talking, and soon the conversation turned to their host.

"if you don't mind me asking, how did you two meet our illustrious host?" Zira asked, genuinely curious, the duo didn't seem like the type to know Charles.

"Well, he is an investor in my radio show"

Alastor began before the angel interrupted him "You have a radio show? What's it about?" he said excitedly, he adored listening to radio while reading.

"I'm unsure whether a gentleman of your standard would enjoy it, as it mainly features discussions about crime, mostly violent. Sometimes we interview the victims, if they are still alive of course. I'm afraid I have rather an interest in the criminal mind."

Adeline cocked her head. "That sounds intriguing," she said, interest clear in her tone. "I shall have to listen to it"

Aziraphale was interested as well and said so. Despite being an angel, he did rather enjoy discussions of crime. "In strictest confidence, may I ask what the next broadcast will be about?"

"Oh yes, tell all, Al. I must confess a slight curiously myself" Rosie admitted.

"I trust you all can keep a secret? Very well, it is an exploration into the possible motives of two serial killers. To be more precise, the Smiling Hunter and the Strangling Rose. I didn't particularly want to do it, however the producer insisted."

The names rang a bell, but he wasn't quite sure where from. "Would you be so kind as to refresh my memory of them?" he asked.

Rosie did so. "First, people often accociate the two together because of their victims. Both tend to target r@pists, however the Rose also kills abusive husbands while the Hunter also kills rich white businessmen. Apart from that, no one can find a link between the two so joining them is irrational. "

" Do you have an interest in crime as well?" Adeline asked Rosie.

"Not as such, I merely have a very good memory and Al talks a lot about work."

Alastor aquiesed to this statement with a brief nod. Still curious, Aziraphale queried "Why are they called the Smiling Hunter and the Strangling Rose? There must be a reason?"

"Oh, there is, but it is rather gruesome, I am afraid it isn't quite the topic to discuss over lunch. Perhaps we can continue after food?" Alastor said.

Aziraphale was fairly confident he and Adeline would both be fine, having eaten crepes while watching beheadings of aristocracy and witnessed the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, amongst other things. However neither of them could tell their present company this, so agreed. The first course was served, salmon mousse on sliced rye bread.They began to eat.

Part way through, Rosie laughed and said "do forgive me Zira, but I have been meaning to ask, where are you from? I admit having a slight curiosity"

"Go on Angel" Adeline added when it became apparent he had paused for too long.

"Well, I live in England, but the Fell family come from all over." There. No lie had been told. He was the Fell family, after all, although can it really be called a family if it only has the one member?

"Ah! England would explain your accent, yes. Tell me, what's it like? I've never been."

"it is very nice, I own a bookshop in London, the capital city."

"you own a bookshop?" Alastor said excitedly. The rest of the meal went very quickly, Rosie and Zira swapping seats so they could talk to Adeline and Alastor separately.

The time had passed so quickly, they decided to bid farewell to their host and go to 'a darling little tea shop' recommended by Rosie, to keep talking. Neither Aziraphale or Adeline had enjoyed human company this much for ages.

Strolling out of the dining room, they found Charles and said farewell to him, Alastor promising that this week's broadcast would be better (and bloodier) than ever. As they left the manor, Rosie led them round streets and through a small alley until they came out in front of a lovely, flower decorated, tea shop. Walking in, Alastor and Zira got a few looks, men didn't usually visit tearooms such as these, but soon enough the oddity was forgotten and the customers turned back to their friends.

From behind the counter, an older woman wearing a smart brown blazer and skirt rushed over, embracing Rosie with a delighted cry "Darling! It has been too long, far too long. You have finally come to your Aunt Ophelia's shop yes? Come, sit. Who are your friends?"

The four sat around the prettily decorated table that Ophelia had showed them to. Rosie smiled. "Dearest Aunt, I sincerely apologise for my absence but I have been very busy with things. Everyone, this is my godmother Ophelia. Aunt, you know Alastor,"

"Well of course I do, but I am fairly certain I have never seen these two in my life" while speaking she gestured broadly to Aziraphale and Adeline.

Both Zira and Rosie were rather stunned when Adeline winked roguishly and said"oh yes you have, surely you recall the party in 1905? The one in Lafayette?"

Ophelia looked briefly confused then shocked. "No. Crowley? Ha! You've changed"

"Oh, maybe just a bit. And it's Adeline currently" said demon purred laughingly"

My, my. Well, as it turns out I know three of this illustrious band, so may I enquire whom you may be, Mr..."

Zira started and answered "Fell, Zira Fell. A pleasure to meet you, madam."

" Ooh, no, I am no madam, just plain Ms Blanche. Shall I bring you cake and sandwiches and some iced tea?"

"The iced tea sounds perfect, unfortunately we have just been to lunch at the Adrieux manor, so we will have to decline the food." Alastor said, he adored Ophelia's cakes and was slightly disappointed at being unable to eat them today.

"But of course, no matter, I shall prepare your tea and leave you to your conversation." with that she departed.

"How did you meet my godmother?" Rosie enquired.

Adeline grinned. "It was at a rather excellent party a while back, she's an excellent dancer. Anyway, do spill the tea on these two serial killers, I find myself much intrigued..."

_______________________________________

Hope you enjoyed! There will be more in this series, I have a ✨plan✨now

[octuscle]

Cursed Ken, part 6: New member of the public order office

Vincent loved his job at the public order office. He was a greasy little employee. A small cog in the big clockwork of politics. But when he wanted to, he could torment and harass people. And as he otherwise had little joy in life, he made the most of this power. Much to the chagrin of those around him.

Vincent had been walking through the new bar for an hour. It was disgusting. In his opinion, gay bars should be banned anyway. But here? Vincent was fully aware that it would become a breeding ground for disease and a hotbed of promiscuity once it opened. But he would find enough reasons to prevent it from opening. Shit, the distance between the bar and the wall was right down to the millimeter. Everything was fine again. Disdainfully, he picked up the doll standing on the shelf between the glasses. That there were even dolls now that represented these perverted faggots. He was about to put the doll back again. But it was gone. Had it fallen off? Never mind, with a bit of luck he would just step on it.

"Okay, then I guess we're through. Everything's fine, congratulations!" Vincent heard himself say. He signed the acceptance on his tablet and sent it to the authorities. The owners of the bar grinned. And Vincent felt dizzy. And then he had to sit down. The last thing he managed to get out was a request for a drink. Someone put a pink martini in front of him.

When Vincent regained consciousness, the bar was dark. Dark apart from a bit of black light and a strobe on the dance floor. Loud music blared through the rooms. It was still early. His wristwatch read 2 p.m., as far as he could tell in the dim light. But the first question was: why was he wearing what was obviously an incredibly expensive Breitling watch? And the second question was: Why was he wearing the watch on such well-tanned and excellently defined forearms?

It was dark around him. But it was obviously already well filled. He could vaguely remember having issued the operating license. But he didn't know why. Had he been drugged? But when and how? And how had the bar filled up within maybe an hour and a half? He had a lot of questions. And no answers.

DAMN IT! Had someone just grabbed his crotch? He pushed the hand away. Away from the smooth material of his trousers. Under which his huge, hard cock felt so good. The latex trousers were so tight that you could see the veins on his cock. And speaking of hard: The muscles under the pants felt damn hard, too. Hard and defined. With a slight groan, Vince ran his hand over the smooth and shiny fabric. There she was again. The hand from the darkness. It didn't run along the inside of his thighs like Vince's own hand, it took the path from his cock up one sixer towards his nipples. Vinc wanted to find it all disgusting. But he found it hot. It made him horny. He moaned loudly. The foreign hand was followed by a tongue. From his hand slowly towards his armpit. Vince imagined how she was about to lick out his smoothly epilated cave while he…. Enough with the gay shit! Vince jumped up. He fended off hands and tongues. He just wanted to get out of here. He was sweating in his latex pants. He had to piss. And everything here disgusted him. He fought his way through the crowd towards the toilet. He still knew where it was from the acceptance test. He also knew that the doors couldn't be locked. But he couldn't pee at a urinal. He was as if he was welded into his pants. How on earth was he supposed to pee like that? He desperately tried to block the door to the cubicle on the one hand and to free his perfect body from this hot material, which showed off all his assets so well, on the other. And again he got a hard-on at the idea of someone else helping him to free his body. Vince stepped back from the door. And immediately a hairy guy in leather chaps seized the opportunity. He freed Vince from his overalls. Vince couldn't hold it in any longer and pissed in the toilet bowl. He was then pushed against the partition wall. And with a loud moan, he was fucked for the first time in his life.

His watch had shown 02:00 instead of 14:00 earlier. It was 06:30 when Vince walked out of the darkroom towards the bar one last time. The new bar was awesome. He had actually been here to dance. But he had been fucked more often than in the whole of the previous week. Yes, his outfit had been inappropriate for that. Next time he would wear something assless.

The last Pink Martini was on the house. Vince thanked the hot bartender with a deep French kiss. He would call in sick today. The job at the public order office sucked anyway. He would look for something new. The world was open to a man like him.

[youremyheaven]

Jisoo: Kibbe Analysis

i've covered all the other Blackpink girlies so i thought its time i did Jisoo!!

She's officially 5'3 but i think she's actually probably 5'1.

She's trim and small ish with angular edges. Her arms and legs are short-ish (in proportion to her body). She's small but still a little broad.

Kibbe describes Soft Gamine body type as follows:

Soft, curvy body tends toward fleshiness. Curved bustline and hips with some natural waist definition. Arms and legs tend to be soft and fleshy, particularly through the hip and thigh areas. 

I have noticed with SGs in particular how they tend to have prominent hips or more pear-shaped bodies. This does not have to mean super exaggerated pear shaped ig baddie type figure, just that their hips are broader than their shoulders

Jisoo has wide hips, fleshy thighs, some waist definition but relatively small shoulders.

The outfit on the left flatters her more than the one on the right.

She has relatively shorter limbs, as SGs do (in proportion to their body) and like most SGs she's very petite at 5'1

Here's Jisoo with some verified SGs (L to R, Winona Ryder, Reese Witherspoon, Halle Berry, Sally Field)

SGs bone structure is described as delicate but angular. All these ladies have smaller features but they're also slightly angular. They're not completely baby-faced. They have well defined noses, cheekbones and jawlines.

SGs gain most of their weight in their arms, hips and thighs and face.

Even when they're thin, they look healthy because they have a rounded body shape paired with short limbs.

Most of these outfits kinda look ??? on her, except the second black dress which is tea length which is like THE Gamine recc. Long lines, layers, clashing patterns, lack of waist definition all drown Soft Gamines.

The first couple of outfits where she's in long trousers kind of hides her frame and since she's already very petite, it kind of looks like the clothes are wearing her and not the other way around.

Compare that to any of these other looks (esp the black fitted blazer with double braids for Dior) she shines in these Gamine lewkzz!!

Gamine outfits flatter her so much!! which is to say that shorter, more tailored pieces with waist definition look bomb af on her.

I have seen some people say she's an SN but there's no way she could be one, she does not have the width at all and she's so obviously an SG???

Jisoo has Romantic, Gamine & Natural essences.

[seriousbrat]

Oo more lily clothing questions: how does she dress in the wizarding world, is it just standard robes or does she put her own flare on it? How important is personal style to her as a whole? How modestly does she dress? Do wizard conservative standards affect this?

Ooh interesting question! I do think that Lily's style would come through in her choice of dress robes and any casual robes she might have owned. She was obviously only 21 when she died and I'm not sure she would have at that point made the inexplicable decision that all adult witches and wizards make to transition to full-time robe wearing** but she might have owned maybe one set of casual robes apart from school robes. Anyway, I think she would be drawn to kind of fun, unique, colourful robes that aren't just the standard black. I've used this picture as inspo for Lily's dress robes before, and I've also described her as having a plum-coloured set (I think that's a good colour for her lol)

I think her personal style is fairly important to her-- she likes clothing, she has good taste, she has fun with it, but it's also not a full-flung obsession or anything. I don't think she'd own a LOT of clothing either, basically just the right amount.

Re: modesty... I think by today's standards she'd definitely be considered fairly modest, and honestly I think it's not wizarding conventions that affect this but even just the Muggle standards of the time, especially for a small town in the Midlands. (where honestly a girl simply.... wearing jeans might be frowned upon by older residents lmao. i'm joking but also not entirely.) That being said I do think she could have moments where she'd dress a little more provocatively or would take a bit of a risk, especially if she was going for a night out or something I could see her in a strappy top or a bit of a shorter hem. For the most part though I think she'd pretty much just be average for a teen girl in the 70s, although the significantly more prudish Petunia would definitely jump at every chance to call her a slut for showing a bit of thigh or wearing a tighter top lol.

** okay, REALLY off-topic but: is it just me but like.... this is what I would consider, not a plot hole, but a lore hole in HP. Or at least it's really confusing to me. It's stated that the Weasley kids wear muggle clothes during the summer, but then Molly and Arthur seem to be somewhat clueless about dressing as Muggles, and the wizards at the world cup are even worse than them. How does this happen? Presumably if the Weasleys are dressing their children (and Molly even makes jumpers, which are presumably meant to be worn with trousers) in Muggle clothing they also would know enough to dress themselves.

Is the implication that wizarding children usually wear Muggle clothes until they reach adulthood and somehow forget how to dress as a Muggle once they get out of the habit? Or is it just the Weasleys who dress their children like Muggles? Perhaps they do so because it's less expensive than buying enough sets of robes for each child?

I can't imagine pureblood children like Draco wearing Muggle clothing on a daily basis-- maybe the Ministry provides each child with one set of adequate muggle clothing for stealth purposes when travelling to Hogwarts??? Maybe wizarding children only started dressing in Muggle clothes during the 90s so it's a recent thing??? I have literally been confused about this for so long. This is why I fully understand the choice made in the films to make robes into kind of eccentric old-fashioned clothes rather than full tunics or whatever.

[kahluamystery97]

Satellite Part Three (HS X OC)

Harry punched the address to Maggie's house into his navigation system in the Range Rover.  He literally accomplished nothing today. Unless you counted stalking Maggie Dunne on the internet an accomplishment.

He was nervous. Harry didn't get too nervous with women. It felt natural to speak to them.  So used to their company between his Mum, his sister, his friends and his fans.  Maggie had him a little on edge though. She either didn't know who he was or barely knew him and he weirdly liked that. Maybe Maggie was on the internet today too. That made his stomach tight. 

Harry was so busy worrying about which Daily Mail headlines Maggie might have read about him that he passed her house. No one was behind him so he hit the brakes and reversed the little yellow sports car. He texted her, "Here." like she asked him to. 

A minute or so later the garage door opened. Maggie stood fresh faced, long blonde hair loose, short frayed denim cutoffs and a white button down shirt, cuffed and French tucked.  She stood against the wall and waved his car in. Harry worked on focusing on driving and not Maggie's tan legs that seemingly went on forever.

He parked and pulled a canvas tote from the passenger side as he stepped out. "Hello." He grinned. The deadly sexy dimples popping. 

"Hi." Maggie returned the smile. Then she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Not one. She wondered what his full pink lips tasted like though.

“I love this neighborhood. You are so tucked in here.” 

Right, yes. This is small talk. Please get with it Maggie, she scolded herself.  "It is. I love it here. Come on upstairs. I set us up on the deck."

"Wow. This view." He whistled.

"The house is only like 1700 square feet. I solely bought it for the deck and the views. Downtown obviously." Maggie pointed. She pointed up, "Hollywood sign. Then over that way, Griffith Observatory." She legitimately loved her house, her little piece of heaven and safety in L.A.

"Killer views. Nice size house for one person. I honestly have too much space."

"It discourages long term visitors. Works for me. I like my own space. Liza and Alex have big houses so they host the family." Maggie noticed the canvas bag. "Can I take that for you?"

"I brought some wine and some Gatorade.  Wasn't sure which you were up for."  He cocked his head looking for an answer.

Maggie took him in. He was wearing tan trousers, white vans, a ribbed white tank with a colorful short sleeve shirt unbuttoned over it all. His muscles rippled beneath the cotton. The black ink she saw in photos was just barely visible under the thin tank. His hair was perfectly tousled. Like he had the window open on the way over. A single curl sat on his forehead.  Her fingers tingled as she fought the urge to brush it back.

Maggie felt slightly crazy. I think I want to fuck this guy because he brought over gatorade. Am I that easy? Oh my God I am such a loser.   

"Wine it is." She made a decision. "So I realized I never asked you for your dietary restrictions.  I got sushi and salads. I was hoping it was a safe bet."

"Perfect. I really don't eat any meat besides fish and seafood." Harry shrugged. 

Maggie nodded. She hated talking about food, food allergies, diets, trainers. These topics consumed everyone she knew. They consumed Maggie too but she would never let another soul know that. Maggie knew her brand was big white, happy smile, carefree, body positive. The world knew she was nearly 300 lbs at 5'6 in high school and it actually almost destroyed her career. She had to take many bikini photos for magazine covers. Maggie learned to surf so the paparazzi could take pictures of her shredding the waves and then walking around with her toned, golden abs on display. No one wanted to know she had been hungry for more than a decade. No one wanted to know that the loose skin had been cut and pinned. A long painful recovery followed. No one wanted to know that she was watched by studios and producers and directors and costumers like a hawk. Like at any minute she would balloon up and ruin it all. Everyone around her just wanted her to smile and pretend a well balanced diet and lots of activity kept her so trim. Lies. Maggie mostly subsisted on coffee, black market diet pills aka light speed/amphetamines and exercise. Yoga, pilates, rowing, running, biking, hiking, weight training, hiit classes. Her church was Barry’s Bootcamp followed up by Barre classes.  

Maggie motioned to the bar cart. "I’m pretty sure it’s your turn to serve me a drink. I'll bring the food out."

"I'm on it." Harry busied himself opening the safe bottle of white he brought.  His ears perked up at the music. He hadn't noticed it before. What was this? He liked it. So she listened to music. Just not his music. Jesus Styles. Get over it, he chastised himself. This is not the time for your narcissism. 

Maggie reappeared with a tray that she placed on the long table. Harry put the wine down. Maggie took a seat next to the head of the table and pushed the seat next to her out with her foot. She put out plates, flatware and chopsticks. They helped themselves to some food and clinked their wine glasses.

"So do anything today?" Maggie asked. "It doesn't seem like you nursed a massive hangover."

"No hangover. I had some business to take care of. Nothing exciting. You?"

"Went for a run. Googled you.  Downloaded your album. Totally normal pre- hangout stalking." She admitted freely as a blush spread across her cheeks.

Harry laughed and raised his hand. "OK. Guilty. Same.." He appreciated her honesty.  They clinked glasses again this time to celebrate their awkward honesty. 

"I'm super embarrassed that I didn't recognize you lasst night. I do actually know who you are. You have different hair now. I’m also pretty certain we met at an SNL after party? And I really love your song.”

So she did know who he was. His stomach was flooded with warmness. He couldn't resist asking, " Which song?"

"Sign of the Times. First time I heard it I was in traffic and literally burst into tears. Which maybe isn't what you intended but it hit me here." She put her hand to heart. "And you should know I don't cry. I am just not a crier. Well, unless you pay me to cry on film."

"Wow so that’s a big compliment."

"You take pride in making ladies cry do you, Styles?" She noticed how quickly his lips turned down. Shit. She wasn't trying to be insulting. Quick change the subject. "So clearly you aren't from LA?"

"What gave it away?" He asked as he bit into a piece of sushi. "Grew up a few hours North of London.  I split my time now between here and there. You?"

"From New York. Upstate. A small suburban city. Mostly blue collar." She sipped her wine. “I do not split my time. I’m all in on LA.”

"And your sisters live here now too." He said, prompting her for more.

"So we totally googled each other and here we are still doing this part. Aren't we cute?" She smiled as she chewed her cucumber slowly. Always chewing everything at least one hundred times. 

"I think this is what normal people without a Wikipedia page do." He raised an eyebrow shoveling California roll into his mouth. 

Fuck it. She was going to expedite the getting to know you before I bed you portion of the evening.

"But we do have Wikipedia pages. Ok so I know you were in a singing competition.  You were in a wildly successful boy band for a few years. You are on hiatus?" She said unsure and searched his face.

"Oh do go on..." He wanted to hear more. Harry sat back with a big toothy grin and sipped his wine.

"Well the gossip is you date models exclusively. Seems like underwear models which you know good on you. Oh and of course your debut album was brilliant. That isn't gossip of course. I told you I downloaded it. I really liked it." She admitted.

"Really? Because generally only underwear models dig it." His eyes sparkled as he joked with her. "Speaking of music - what are we listening to? I like it but I'm unfamiliar. " Harry asked.

Maggie excitedly clapped her hands. "Houndmouth. I am obsessed with these guys lately. I find something I love and then I play the shit out of it."

"Guilty. Same here. Ok my turn. I know you and your two sisters have a production company. You seem to enjoy surfing, volleyball and just generally being in a swimsuit. Or at least that is what the paparazzi photos would have me believe.  Oh and maybe you are a nun or really good at that whole discreet thing? Not many pictures of you out with guys."

"You’re so on to me. I'm a nun. I have invited you here to see if you have accepted Jesus Christ as your savior." She said with a straight face and sipped her wine.

Harry nearly choked. "Now that would not even be close to the weirdest thing that has happened to me in LA." 

"Oh I believe it. Maybe we can trade horror stories later." Maggie looked down to the dishes around them. "Are you finished? I'll clear and we can have some more wine."

"Let me help."

Harry stacked some plates and followed her in the house. He was impressed.  It wasn't overly decorated.  It looked like a well curated collection of art and things Maggie loved.

As if reading his mind she said, "All the cool kids have decorators. I'm cheap so it is literally just me buying shit on the internet or on days off I'm scouring HomeGoods. It's home though and I love it."

"No, it’s great. Your art is interesting. " He laid the plates down on the counter and looked out the kitchen door at the walls.

"Nothing too crazy. I know very little about art except what I like. I have a friend who works in a gallery and he keeps me from getting taken."

"Wise. I'm a bit of a collector myself." A bit of a collector was probably an understatement. Harry loved art and spent a lot of time collecting to fill his London, LA and NYC homes. 

She quickly rinsed the dishes off and loaded them into the dishwasher. Seeing remnants of old food or meals made her anxious the next day. All remains of any meal or snack had to be tossed or stowed. Maggie didn’t keep fruit artfully stacked in bowls or glass canisters of painstakingly placed oreos or the like. If she didn’t have to see the food then she didn’t have to think of it. 

Maggie held up the wine bottle. "Split the last of it?" Harry nodded.

Maggie hauled herself up into a sitting position on the counter. She poured a little of the wine in her own glass. She shook the bottle in Harry's direction. He approached and she poured the cool liquid into his glass.

Harry didn't move away from her. They clinked glasses and never broke eye contact. The room was silent except for Houndmouth belting out 'Darlin'.

Maggie drained the wine from her glass and sat it down on the counter.  Harry watched her catch her bottom lip between her teeth. Her blue eyes narrowed in on him.

Harry's pulse quickened and his pants got tighter. Was it this easy? Wasn't this what he came here for?  A nice night in the company of a beautiful woman. He drank his wine and set his glass beside hers. Maggie put a long tan leg out and hooked it around his middle.  She sat up straight and Harry closed the small amount of distance between them. His hands moved to her waist and pulled her to the edge of the marble counter until she was pressed firmly against him.

Maggie leaned in and pushed her lips against his. The sweet of the white wine, the softness of her tongue taking over his mouth was intoxicating.  He pushed harder against her as she wrapped both legs around him. Her hands raked through the back of his hair. 

When the kiss broke Maggie pulled her head back a bit to look at his beautiful face. "Too forward?" She asked, biting her lip again.

"Not at all." Harry traced the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

"Let me give you the tour." She slid down from the marble now pressed fully against him. His six foot tall frame casting a shadow over her.. Maggie took his hand and led him out of the kitchen, back through the living room.

"My office," she pointed to a room. "2nd bathroom and this is," This was clearly Maggie's bedroom.

They stood at the doorway for a beat. Maggie dropped Harry's hand and began to unbutton her white shirt. She walked backwards toward the bed. 

Harry stood back a minute to watch her. The shirt dropped to the floor. A plain white cotton bra showcased her toned, tan body.  He dropped his shirt where he stood. Maggie was working on her shorts as Harry lost the tank and his belt. She pulled him closer and started to unbutton his pants while hungrily kissing him.  Harry grabbed a handful of magnificent ass that was peeking out from the cheeky white boy shorts.

Maggie ran her hands over every inch of his muscled back she could reach. She could feel Harry's hands travel up from her ass to roll over her back and finally worked on taking her bra off.  Maggie was particularly proud of her breasts.  They stood erect braless. Harry groaned when he saw that little bounce once they were free from the flimsy fabric.

When Maggie stood back from Harry to crawl onto the bed she got a better look at his body. The palm fronds she had seen in photos earlier were even more magnificent in person. She reached a hand out to trace one. A low groan escaped his lips.

From there it was a haze. Clothes on the floor. Warm bodies tangled together. Maggie found his facial hair was pleasantly soft against her thighs as his tongue delved into her. After he brought her to her first orgasm she had expertly wrapped him up in a condom. Harry hadn't been this turned on in ages and was scared he wouldn't make a good showing. He pressed into Maggie's wetness. Both of them sighing approval.

After their orgasms they lay quiet. Maggie spoke first. "I'm glad you came over."

Harry was smiling. "I'm glad you invited me after I was a bit of a desperate creep this morning."

"Quite a charming desperate creep though."  He laughed and kissed her bare shoulder. Her toe ran up his leg. "I'm going to use the ladies." He nodded.

When she returned she was in a white waffle robe and carrying a glass of water. She offered it to Harry as he sat up. He took a few sips and handed it back. Maggie took a long sip and pressed her lips together.

"Should I go?" He asked. He couldn’t quite read the room. 

 "Only if you want to. And if you want to I won't take offense. Honestly."

He believed it. She seemed cool. Maybe too cool. He liked her though. She was a bit of a mystery. Was mystery the right word? She intrigued him.

He settled in clearly not leaving. He reached an arm out. Maggie pulled the robe off and slid under the covers. Quickly she had a leg over him and pulled herself up and over him. Looking down she smiled, "I mean if you're staying we might as well."

When Harry woke up he was alone in Maggie's bed. He looked at his phone. It was just before 8am. They had been up past 2am talking and well not talking.

Harry noticed his clothes were neatly laid out on a chair in the corner. He pulled them on and then went to use the toilet.  Maggie had thoughtfully left a new toothbrush on her sink. 

  Once he finally emerged from her room he spotted Maggie out on the deck. She was on a rowing machine, her form perfect. Her skin glistened in the sun with the finest sheen of sweat. She was in a hot pink sports bra and black cropped sport leggings. 

Maggie heard the door open and slowed her pace so she could stop. "Good morning." She called.

"Morning. Did you even sleep?" Harry asked.

 "I did. Thought I would get a workout in. Let you rest."

"From my workout last night." He sighed as he stretched.

A smile danced on Maggie's lips. "Exactly.”

She got up off the rower and Harry leaned in to kiss her. He had clearly gotten the toothbrush because he was minty fresh. "Careful I'm a bit sweaty."

Harry looked her up and down unashamed. "Mmm, I like it."  His deep voice growled. He pulled her flush against him and kneaded his fingers into her supple backside. 

While Harry felt exhausted from the night before he also felt that familiar twinge in his pants at the sight of her.

Maggie felt the heat pool between her legs. However she knew she had a meeting in two hours she absolutely had to get ready for. Harry leaned in for another kiss. His tongue warmly licking into her mouth reminding her how it felt to have his mouth on her last night. 

She sighed disappointed with the clock running out on this rendezvous. "So this isn't me uninterested but I absolutely have to be at this meeting about a new film in like two hours. This is a big deal sorta thing, my dream project.”

"Oh hey no problem.  I get it."  And he did. Harry’s work was important to him. He had meetings to keep and a packed schedule. He was certainly not one to judge. He did hope it wasn’t just a tactic to get rid of him though. 

"I made coffee though and you shouldn't feel like you have to rush out or anything." Maggie said not wanting Harry to think she was forcing him out. 

"You’re excited for this meeting?" He could feel the energy she was giving off.

"Excited and nervous. I just know this project has amazing potential. " She admitted. 

Harry smiled. "I'm going to get out of your hair so you can do whatever it is you need to get done today. I had a really great time last night with you."  He pulled her in closer if that was possible. Their foreheads are now touching. His arms moved from her ass and now settled on her waist. 

"I really enjoyed last night too."  She breathed him in.

"Good luck today." He kissed her nose.

"OK now you have to leave because I feel compelled to take all of my clothes off and cancel on my sisters." She said willing herself to be a sane woman.

Harry broke their embrace. He made his way over to the stairs to the garage. "We can’t have that now. Goodbye Maggie." He laughed.

"Goodbye Harry." Maggie exhaled a deep breath watching both his curls and fine ass bounce down the stairs.

Maggie was unsure she would see him again but she was sure the memory of last night could get her through whatever droughts may come.

“Look at this smug bastard. What is up with you today?” Ben Winston asked Harry as he piled a mixed green salad on his plate. 

Before Harry could answer Jeff cut him off. “Date with Maggie Dunne last night.” 

“Ooooohhhh Maggie Dunne. You stud.” James Corden laughed loudly. “Not gonna share the horny details with your old married mates?”

Harry was having lunch over at CBS Studios in the offices for The Late Late Show. Ben Winston and James Corden being two of his best friends.

“It wasn’t really a date. We hung out. She’s cool.”

“Oh he is really tight lipped. Totally shagged her.” Ben cocked his eyebrow in Harry’s direction.

“Imagine if I went around asking about your sex life?” Harry sighed and sipped at this black iced coffee. 

“Oh fuck off will you mate. Just giving you a bit of a hard time. Maggie is lovely. Also, can you get her to do the show? She has some crazy hard on for Conan. He isn’t even on network tv.”James complained. 

“Call her agent or hire a hitman to take care of Conan. I dunno. No help from me though.” 

Jeff snorted. “Well now that is all sorted. Are you going to see her again?”

Harry sat back thoughtfully. He ran his fingers through his curls and then shrugged. “So we didn’t really establish if we had planned on seeing each other again.” 

“How did you leave things?” Ben asked. 

 “I mean on a good note. We kissed. I said goodbye.” Harry revealed a little more than he wanted. At that moment his phone pinged with a text. 

“I bet that is her now. Couldn’t get enough of Young Harold over here.” Corden nudged his arm. 

Harry looked at the text and put the phone back on the conference table. 

“Bad news?” Jeff asked. 

“No. Just Collette.”  

“Sort of feels like bad news.” Jeff groaned dramatically. “I thought you were done with that.”

“We’re friends.”

Ben chimed in. “Seems like a bad idea. It has been hard enough for you to move on. Keeping in touch, texting that seems like it is only going to make it harder.”

“Exactly what I’ve been saying.” Jeff offered. “Harry thinks he has to stay ‘friends’ with every girl he ever dated or shagged. Why isn’t your therapist addressing that?”

Harry threw a balled up napkin at Jeff and flipped him off. He knew his friends weren’t wrong. He just didn’t know how to give up his friendship, his ties to her. “Ok you old married sages. What do I do then?”

Corden stood up and slapped his hands down on the table. “You need me to tell you to nut the fuck up and call Maggie?”

"That was really fucking promising." Liza said, throwing her purse into her Infiniti QX80. She was a tall commanding woman. She decided her car should be the same.

'I don't want to jinx it but I think they loved the project." Alex sighed relieved. She leaned her back against Liza's beast of an SUV.

"I mean if we can get this movie made I can die happy." Maggie said and tossed her own purse into her Mercedes convertible.  This film was her baby. Making a movie about an iconic plastic doll seemed like a hard sell and an easy sell. However, getting the right team in place, a good script and now financing had not been easy. 

"Let's not die for it yet." Liza laughed. "Yet."

"I vote we blow off the rest of the day, drink margs and gorge on Mexican." Alex volunteered. It was very un-Alex like of her.

"Are you feeling okay?" Maggie asked, raising an eyebrow surprised at her sister. The mom of two never suggested getting wild or blowing off the day. If she wasn’t working she was home with her husband and kids. 

Liza chimed in, "Pod people got her. I knew it."

“Oh you two are just hysterical. Real comedians.” Alex proceeded to flip them off. “ I just don't feel like working or being a mom just now. I would like to be irresponsible at," Alex looked down at her Rolex, "at 1pm."

"Wait for it because it isn't pod people, it’s Freaky Friday. I'm the tired one." Maggie covered her mouth as a yawn escaped.

Her sister's both looked at her. Alex said,  "Probably because you are up at the ass crack of dawn working out. Let me guess running?"

"Rowing." Maggie shrugged.  "Also, I was sort of up all night fucking that guy I met at that party."

Liza's eyes shot up. "Which guy? The bartender?"

"What party?" Alex asked.

"That shitty party at Martin Graves house that Liza dragged me to. I was bored out of my mind so I decided to drink five whiskeys apparently."

“You took her to a Martin Graves party? Alex gave Liza an accusatory look. “You have heard what happens to pretty young things there?”

“Al nothing like that happened. I was okay. I agreed to go. Making a move for some last minute funding in case this didn’t pan out.” 

Liza narrowed her eyes at Alex. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

Alex reached out and touched Liza’s arm. “I know that, I do, I’m sorry.” 

Liza gave her a smile accepting her apology. 

"Ok so moving on. You met a hot bartender? Oh Margaret we need all the dirty deets. See, let's go have drinks and you can tell me everything." Alex pleaded.

"He's not a bartender. Dirty deets? Seriously, who are you?" Maggie asked with a shake of her head.

"El Coyote. We are going - now.  I'm driving over with Maggie. Sail the yacht over by yourself." Alex mocked Liza's SUV.

Liza rolled her eyes. " Jesus Christ Al."

Maggie and Alex got into the convertible and drove out of the parking garage. 

"Why does it kill Liza to be fun now? Remember fun? " Alex sighed.

"Al are you having some weird mid-life crisis?" Maggie asked as she turned right.

"Perhaps. Just feeling like an old woman. Maybe I'm a little jealous you’re picking up hot bartenders or not bartenders and having late nights. If my night is late it is because one of the kids won't sleep. I love my life but some days I want to be young and carefree again. I want to have sex without having to plan it like a mission to Mars."

Maggie reached over and squeezed her sister's hand. "Get Perry to take you out or better yet take you away. Me and Liza got the girls you know that."

Alex smiled. "I know. You guy -"

The phone ringing through the Bluetooth cut her off and startled them both. The screen flashed 'H - Hills Party'. Maggie put her fingers to her lips to shush Alex.

She may have been giddy but Maggie cooly answered, "Hello."

"So..." Harry asked.

"So?" Maggie asked.

"You were quite excited about your very important meeting today.  So how did it go? "

"Good, really good." She said enthusiastically. "I'm not saying another word though because I'm a bit superstitious."

"Would you like to celebrate or is that bad luck?" He asked.

Alex was staring hard at her. She started nodding her head and giving her a thumbs up.

"Actually I'm headed out with my sisters to El Coyote."

"No shit?" He asked. "I'm over at the CBS Studios. Maybe I could meet you afterwards?" CBS was conveniently right around the corner from the famed Mexican restaurant. 

Maggie was afraid Alex was going to sprain her neck. She was nodding so hard.

"Sure. I'll text you." Maggie offered. Alex silently cheered and then began to make some crude gestures. Maggie nearly burst into laughter watching her grown ass sister act like a twelve year old boy. 

"I'll be here." He said. 

Maggie disconnected the call before finally giving into the hysterics she was holding in.

"What the fuck?" Alex screeched laughing now too. "I don't care what he looks like. I nearly just nearly made a mess of my pants - that voice. Tell me you have a photo of him? But don't show me if he isn't good looking. In my mind he is amazing.”

Maggie was laughing so hard now. "Oh my God girl you are a disaster. He is very hot actually."

“So wait. Sexy British accent. He is hot. No way you had a fucking orgasm? God doesn’t give with both hands Mags.”

“Try three orgasms.” She looked over the top of her sunglasses at Alex who had her mouth wide open in shock. 

“Three? I’m not even sure that is physically possible . Three?”

“Three. Do you think I’m making it up?”

“Course not. Fuck me. I think I need a cigarette.”

“You gave up smoking in the nineties.” 

“Yeah well if I had three orgasms in one night I would pick it back up quick. Three. My mind is blown.”

“Mine too.”

Before they could go on she pulled the car into the parking lot and got her valet ticket. Liza was directly behind them.

The three walked into the storied Mexican restaurant.  The Dunne sisters were a stunning trio. Maggie the youngest was also the shortest. All three had piercing blue eyes. Liza, the oldest, had long dark hair, plush eyelashes and high cheekbones. Alex, the middle child was as tall as Liza, full figured, long legs. Blonde and blue eyed like Maggie.

“Booth in the back?" The hostess asked them. They were regulars here. 

"If you have one." Maggie smiled brightly.

"Of course. Follow me.”

Once the sisters were settled and margaritas ordered Alex piped up. "Maggie is meeting the guy from last night after this. He is some sort of British sex wizard.” 

Liza looked up from her phone distracted. "The bartender is a wizard? Only in LA.”

"Oh my God he isn't a bartender. I swear I have said that multiple times. Are you deaf or senile?”

Liza shot her a look. "Maybe a little bit of both. Or maybe I don't care who you bang as long as you don't end up all over social media and gossip rags because he can't keep his mouth shut."

"He's a singer. He’s very well known and he doesn't want to be all over the tabloids either. "

"A singer?" Alex asked. "That makes so much sense. That voice. Wait, what’s his name? I have to Google him."

"What are you going on about?" Liza asked.

"He called while I was in the car with Mags. Super sexy British voice. Maggie had THREE orgasms last night!" Alex announced a bit too loudly.

Maggie flushed bright red as she looked around. “Louder so the staff in the kitchen can hear it. This is totally going to be on Deuxmoi. Anon pls  Maggie Dunne had three orgasms with a wizard.”

Alex rolled her eyes and waved her hands, “Oh get over yourself.”

"I know I met this person but I literally have no memory of him." Liza shrugged. “Seriously, three?”

Maggie nodded. Liza smiled and looked down at the menu. 

"Ok, give me his name." Alex was poised to type into her phone. Maggie took a beat longer than what Alex was expecting. "What is his name Maggie?!" She yelped even more loudly than before. Some patrons nearby looked over.

The waitress appeared with their margaritas at that moment. "Can I get her a second one right away? Sorry it is sort of a margarita emergency.” Maggie flashed the pearly whites at the waitress and nodded toward Alex.

"Sure. I'll be right back."

“What constitutes a margarita emergency?” Liza asked sipping at her drink and trying not to spill.

Maggie only raised her eyebrows and gestured at Alex as if to say, “This. Her.”

"Sorry I'm really excitable today." Alex said flushed.

"No bullshit here - kid are you okay? Need an edible?” Liza asked as she motioned toward her gigantic Prada bag which always had an edible or ten in it. 

"I have no clue what is going on with me. Sorry. Mags diagnosed me with a mid-life crisis earlier."

"Her initials are MD, not her profession." Liza offered with a smile as she sipped the frozen concoction. 

"She's not wrong. I haven't even played a doctor yet." They all laughed.

The waitress brought another margarita for Alex and took their order. Unsurprisingly they all ordered the chicken fajita plate. Maggie could pick at the chicken and veggies and not get asked too many questions about what she was and was not eating. 

"OK so I'm going to ask you one more time, calmly. What is his name?" Alex gulped the last of her first margarita.

Maggie lowered her voice and moved in closer,  "Harry Styles."

"God that sounds familiar. Isn't he in a boy band? How old is this kid? We don’t need that sort of press" Liza asked as she tapped away at an email on her phone. 

"He was. He’s a fully grown adult." Maggie said, sipping her margarita. 

Alex had her head down scrolling through her iPhone. "Oh he sure grew up. Yum that mouth.”

Maggie looked over with flushed cheeks. “Yeah that mouth.”

“Full service?” Alex questioned. 

“Mmm hmmm.”

Alex offered the phone to Liza. She shrugged. “Oh that guy.”

They rolled their eyes at Liza. "So do you like him?" Al asked.

"He's really nice, seems down to earth but I don't really know him. Didn't know if we'd talk again after he left this morning."

Liza looked Maggie in the eye. "So now he's called you. Are you interested?"

"You guys know I don't have a lot of time in my life for that. Casual has always worked better for me. I’m not in the market for a relationship."

Alex was deep into that second margarita. "Can't be casual forever Margaret. Eventually you need your teammate. You deserve some happiness."

"I have my teammates and you both make me mostly happy. Except you with the judgy eyes." Maggie smiled at Liza. 

"You know what she's saying though." Liza ignored the rib and doubled down on what Alex was expressing. 

"I do. I don't feel lonely and I'm not planning on living a life of solitude or anything.  I just happen to like my life right now." 

Maggie wasn't lying. She did like her life. She answered to no one. She felt safe behind her walls. She felt like she couldn't be hurt or exploited. Feeling safe was everything to her after some of the dark shit that happened in her past. She understood why her sisters might want her to couple up. Liza and Alex married two of the best men ever created. Maggie was so lucky to have them as her brothers. Along with the girls they took such good care of her. 

"I like all of our lives right now. Look at us. We have come a long fucking way." Alex laughed hard. She was definitely on her way to drunk.  "Can we get three more of these?"  She pointed to the empty glasses. 

Liza motioned for two not three. The waitress nodded. 

"He dated Taylor Swift." Alex said seriously looking up from her phone.  "Oh no." 

"Which album? What did he do?" Liza asked seriously.  

Maggie said. "1989. Style. Wildest Dreams.”

Liza and Alex looked at each other. "Okay 1989 isn't that bad." Alex said. "I mean it could be worse. Though there is always Clean and Out of the Woods. He is a bad driver! Be careful.” 

"At least it’s not Dear John. Remember the time I 'accidentally' spilled red wine on John Mayer. That piece of shit." Liza spat angrily. 

"How could I forget?" Maggie cringed remembering John Mayer pulling out all his best lines and Liza dousing him in red wine and pulling Maggie away to a ‘very important call at 11pm’.

"Fine but if you go near John Mayer I will have you put down." Liza said. 

Maggie held her palms up. "I am fairly certain he wouldn’t let any of the Dunne’s within a ten mile radius of him after that.”

When the last fajita was eaten Alex looked up and announced. "I'm totally shitfaced. It is 3 in the afternoon and I'm shitfaced." Then she began to laugh and laid down in the round booth. 

Liza and Maggie exchanged a look, their eyebrows high on their foreheads. "Holy shit." Liza mouthed. 

Maggie was definitely not going to be driving but she wasn't drunk. She should probably let Harry know she was just going to let Liza take her home. When she made that announcement at the table Alex began laughing again even harder.

"What’s so funny?" Liza asked, pulling her upright.  “Get it together woman.”

Alex put Maggie’s phone down in front of her.  "I texted him. He’s on his way over to pick you up." 

Maggie looked stricken. "You texted who? What? Harry? What? What did you say? What did you do?" She opened her phone quickly.

'Had a three margarita lunch. Now is probably a good time for you to pick me up.' 

Harry responded, 'On my way now.' 

"I am going to murder you." Maggie said through gritted teeth. This only made Alex laugh harder with a snort. 

Liza looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Christ the two of you. I know you were joking about Deuxmoi earlier but I am definitely going to get a call on Sunday.” 

A few minutes later all three of them looked up to see Harry walking toward them. He was in a plain white t-shirt which displayed all his black ink and rippling muscles. Jeans and black Vans to round his look out.  His sunglasses were perched on top of his head keeping his unruly curls back. He smiled a perfectly white, dimpled smile. 

Alex took a sharp breath. Maggie took a sip of water. All the blood in her body rushed directly between her legs. She slid out of the booth.  "Hi. I didn't expect you to come all the way in." 

"Felt sort of rude sitting in the parking lot and texting." He smiled and then looked over to her sisters.  

Alex drunkenly struggled to navigate her way out of the circular booth. Harry offered her his hand. She smiled up, dazed and took it. "I'm Harry," He introduced himself as he helped her up. 

"I'm married." Alex said with a hiccup. "To Perry. He is very tall. Even taller than you." She looked Harry up and down a few times. "Harry rhymes with Perry." Another hiccup. 

Harry looked puzzled but smiled wider. Maggie was flushed red and worried her armpits might start sweating anytime now. 

Liza stepped in. "This is Alex. She doesn't normally consume four margaritas midday so if you'll excuse her. I'm Liza." She offered Harry her hand.  They shook. Liza then looked him up and down with immediate disapproval just as she had done the first time they met.

Harry felt her dislike for him. Liza wasn't subtle. He was so used to charming people right away. Liza made him uncomfortable and awkward. That people pleaser in him wanted to win her over. 

"Nice to meet you both. Can I offer you ladies a ride?" 

Alex got a big grin on her face. Maggie gave her a death stare. She knew there was definitely a sex joke about to fly out of her sister's mouth. Alex clamped her lips together. 

"I'm the sober sister. Since this one is married to Perry I think I'll take her. I guess you take that blonde one." Liza offered.

"Only seems appropriate." Harry said. 

Liza led them out. Alex swayed unsure on her Manolos. Harry offered his arm to her. She wrapped her hand around his bicep. Maggie trailed them. 

"I mentioned I'm married to Perry, right?" She asked him. 

"You did mention that. Perry is a very lucky man."  He said amused by Alex's drunk antics. 

"Oh good. He would want me to remember that. And I'm a mom. And I don't really drink. And I'm old." 

"Old? No way." He said. 

"I mean I'm Hollywood old. I'm 39. Tell him Maggie." Alex turned around to her sister. 

"Yes you are Hollywood old. When I'm 39 I'll be playing George Clooney’s mother." Maggie repeated a line she had said many times before. 

"Well I'm not from Hollywood. In the real world you are young. Old people aren't this beautiful day drunk on margaritas." He smiled over at Al as they walked down the few steps and out into the parking lot. 

"I like you even if you aren't a bartender and are likely a terrible driver. Please be careful with my baby sister." Al slurred.  Harry was totally confused. He just continued to smile. 

The valet saw Liza and ran for her SUV. Liza spoke to the other valet about leaving Maggie's car. Liza told Maggie she would make sure the car got to her house. 

"This is me." Harry motioned to the black Range Rover near the front door. "It was so nice to meet you. Both of you." 

"We should do this again sometime." Alex said. "This was so fun. You are fun Harry." Alex gave him a hug. He was laughing now and hugging her back. “Remember what I said about driving safely.”

Liza's SUV pulled up. "Get in the car Drunkerella." Liza said to Alex. 

"Bye Bubs. I love you. Drink lots of water ok." Maggie hugged Alex and kissed her cheek.

"Aww I love you my baby. My first baby." Alex kissed her forehead and pulled her in close looking weepy. "Do you know when you were little  -" 

"Fucking hell Al get in the goddamn car before you start crying." Liza yelled from the driver's seat. Maggie helped Alex in. 

"You aren't the boss of me, Liza.  I'm not scared of you. I'll kick your ass." 

"Goodbye you two. Have a pleasant drive all that way together. Sad I'm going to miss it." Maggie laughed as she shut the door. 

Now both Maggie and Alex turned to flip her off.  Then they were pulling out onto Beverly.  

Harry had tears in his eyes from laughing.  "What the hell was that? Your sisters are fantastic. What does she know about my driving? Did she talk to my mother?”

Maggie lightly shoved his arm. He led her to his SUV and opened the passenger door. Harry waved a thank you to the valets and then got in the driver's side. 

"So Maggie Dunne, what do you feel like doing?" He asked as he pulled out of the lot. 

"Well Harry Styles I have eaten. I have had margaritas. Not sure there is anything better than that." 

"More margaritas?" 

"And just like that you figured it all out." She smiled over to him. 

"A frozen Casamigos margarita by the pool?"  Harry raised an eyebrow. 

"Yes please." 

"Is my place okay?" Maggie nodded her approval. "So your sisters are hysterical.  Oh my God I might love Alex." 

"Everyone loves Alex. She's the mom. She's not whoever that lady was. I mean not normally. She is going to be mortified tomorrow but I'm glad she had fun today. You have a sister, right? What’s she like?" 

"Really smart. She's sarcastic. Reminds me a lot of Alex when she has had too much to drink. Whiskey not tequila. Like your sisters, she's my best friend." 

"Teller of truths? An ass kicker? And she is in England?" 

"Yes, exactly.  She does live in London. She comes quite a bit to visit me here which is nice. I mean I have to annoy her into it but she gives in." 

"It is nice to have that. You know I moved here alone. Broke. I had this dream that I would be on my favorite soap opera. Maybe go to college. I got my role on the soap and then a few months later I got a part in a Scorcese movie. Once my dreams started to become a reality it was hard to enjoy it without them. So they gave up their lives at home and moved here. All six of us lived in my little house." 

"No way! Your house you live in now?" 

"Yup. It was crazy but still some of my happiest memories were made together there." 

Maggie looked around. "You live near the Strip?" They were on Sunset. 

"Above." Harry pointed up. 

She smiled "Have to be close to the excitement?" 

"I did when I bought it. Now it feels a little silly." He said as he pulled at his bottom lip. 

Maggie pressed her thighs together feeling aroused just by that simple move. He was effortlessly sexy. 

The Range Rover climbed the hills. Harry hit the clicker and a large gate opened. A white three story house with massive windows and glass railed terraces stood before them. He parked just outside of the garage. 

They let themselves out of the car. Harry looked Maggie up and down for what was probably the millionth time in the thirty minutes since he had picked her up. She was in a white lightweight tweed Chanel dress with drop waist and black ribbon trim, black tights and black patent heels. The dress had a Chanel signature brooch pinned over Maggie's heart. Her blonde hair was loose and her lips painted perfectly red. 

He closed the distance between them. "You look really beautiful today." Harry said. 

A small smile danced on Maggie's lips. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him. 

"Thank you. This is my ladylike business meeting look. Hoped I could seal the deal in it." 

Now it was Harry's turn to smile. "Oh you've sealed the deal Miss Dunne." 

She rolled her eyes. "Lame Styles, real lame." They laughed. 

Harry took Maggie's hand and led her into the house. She looked around at all the dark furniture and tall ceilings. This was an LA bachelor pad for sure. There was seemingly nothing personal on the walls or surrounding shelves. 

"I feel you judging me. I was 20 when I bought this place." He said a little self-consciously. "And I know it isn’t homey and warm like your place. I just don’t spend enough time here for that.”

"I'm not judging you. Stop being such a weirdo." She laughed. 

"How about I make us those drinks? Then we can go out by the pool?" 

"I'm in." Maggie followed Harry to the kitchen. 

Harry fussed around making drinks in an oversized frozen margarita maker. Maggie stepped out of her heels. She laid her Chanel bag on the stool of the kitchen island.  

"Salted rim?" He asked, looking over as she shimmied out of her black tights. 

Maggie sighed relief as she was freed. "Yes please. Sorry I have been dying to take those off." 

"Get comfortable. No worries." Harry salted both glasses and poured the drinks. 

Maggie slipped her dress off and put it on the back of the chair. She stood clad in her white boy shorts and matching bra. "I mean I can't wear tweed by the pool." She shrugged accepting the drink. 

Harry swallowed hard. Then he pulled his t-shirt off and then quickly shucked off his jeans. Now he stood in his black boxer briefs. His palms itched with want to touch her.  Maggie let her eyes wander freely. 

"You lead the way."  Her tongue slowly licked a spot of the salt and then sipped the cold margarita. His memory of her tongue on him last night still fresh. His pulse quickened. 

He turned and pushed the large wall of glass doors open. 

They made themselves comfortable on a double wide chaise. Maggie leaned back facing the pool. Harry faced her with his legs crossed in front of him pretzel style.

'What sort of torture devices were you wearing?" He asked, looking at the red angry creases in her feet. 

She smiled looking down.  "Very expensive ones. They're ok."  Harry pulled her foot into his lap and began to gently massage. Maggie's eyes fluttered and she bit down on her bottom lip. 

"Better?" He asked. 

"Are you bad at anything?" 

He thought. 'So many things.’ Instead he laughed and kissed the pad of her foot. Then he started on the second foot. 

Maggie slowly sipped the margarita and watched Harry. Her body was on fire. Normally she wouldn't see someone twice and even so never two days in a row. 

Once Harry kissed the second foot she put her drink down. Then rolled off the chaise and onto her feet. His eyes followed her as she walked to the pool and gracefully dove in. 

He took that as his cue to follow her. Harry was not quite as graceful but he launched his long body in.  Making a splash he heard Maggie laugh. It was a lovely sound.  Before he had blinked all the water from his eyes he felt her legs wrap around his middle. 

Maggie pressed her lips to his. He parted them to allow her tongue entry. He had wanted to kiss her from the moment he picked her up today.  He wrapped an arm around her waist and gently pulled her in by the back of her neck. She smiled against his lips. 

Looking down at her now sheer bra and seeing her pink nipples stand at attention made him instantly hard.  Maggie pushed his wet hair back. Her hands slipped down and laid loosely around his neck. 

"Thank you for coming to pick me up." 

"Well thank you for coming over. If I'm honest I was nervous to call. We didn't really establish any ground rules this morning." 

"Ground rules? I think you should know I'm not incredibly fond of rules. I like organization and order. Rules not so much."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh a bad girl, a rule breaker." He let his hands run down her back and squeeze her perfect ass. 

Maggie let out a surprised squeal. "I'm not sure I'm quite a badass. Just not a fan of rules. What sort of ground rules are we talking about?" 

"I guess I just meant when I left this morning we didn't establish if that was a one time thing,  if I should call you or you should call me." 

"Yeah that. This morning I was so focused on the meeting I was going to. I'm happy you called.  I had fun last night." She smiled as she tangled her fingers in the back of his hair. 

"You are very easy to have fun with." 

"So are you. So let's not overthink it."  Maggie leaned back into the water to get her hair wet. Harry quietly groaned at the sight of her nipples straining against the sheer white bra. "How about one ground rule?"  

"I'm listening." 

"We can call or text whenever we want but no pressure. Busy? Not feeling it? No problems. Keep it casual." 

"You have yourself a deal. Should we shake on it?" 

Maggie shook her head. "I don't want to shake your hand. I want you to take me inside and fuck me." She said boldly in his ear thanks to tequila. 

Harry moved swiftly with Maggie still around him to get to the pool stairs. He kissed her one last time before they untangled themselves. Maggie took the hand he offered her as they rushed toward the house. 

More than three orgasms later Harry was letting his hands freely roam Maggie’s body in his post-coital bliss. 

“What happened here? Appendix?” Harry asked. He let his finger linger over a small white scar on her lower pelvis as he kissed her shoulder.  He was propped up on his elbow, legs tangled with hers. Maggie gave him a small smile. 

“Uh no. I had a tummy tuck and up here if you look close enough you can see where my arms were done. After I lost all of that weight I just had too much loose skin. Needed a little surgical help.” She shrugged it off.

“I’m sorry that was rude of me. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t know.” He stuttered, turning a bit red with embarrassment. 

“It’s ok. You didn’t know I was fat or I had cosmetic surgery? Everyone knows I used to be fat. You are a shit google searcher if you completely missed my fat pictures. I mean no matter how many photos are taken of you and your abs in your bikini people will always put them side by side with your fat photos.” 

Maggie reached for the sheets and pulled them up a bit self conscious. Harry pulled her in closer by the waist. He leaned in and kissed her mouth as he gently pulled the sheet back. 

“Don’t do that. I’m sorry I didn’t know. I’m not trying to embarass or hurt you.”

“Honestly it’s who I am. It’s part of my story.  I just thought you knew.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked unsure if he should drop the topic or not. 

“Not much to talk about. I used to be fat and now I’m not. It isn’t that deep.” Lies. Liar. It’s deep. Really fucking deep. You are never getting close enough for that buddy. 

He nodded sensing he should leave this alone for now. “Would you object to a shower together and a snack?”

Maggie leaned up and captured his lips between hers. She cocked an eyebrow when she asked, “What sort of snack are we talking about?”

Harry’s tongue trailed down her body until it reached the scar. He marked her there and then soothed it with his tongue. He made his short descent down between her thighs. “Well I actually know what I want first.”