#cause i know sometimes blokes wear t-shirts under their dress shirts

[todayisafridaynight]

thinkin bout 2019 sawashiro's outfit makes me laugh in a hypothetical sense cause alongside the leather gloves he has an alligator-print suit jacket and then under that's a snake-print vest and then under that's a leather dress shirt and so wouldnt it be right goofy if under that's a regular t-shirt and just to really hit the homerun on layers he can have a tanktop under that. for the giggles.

[lilydeerwrites]

A Muggle Studies Moment: 2

The Gryffindor Common Room was buzzing with quiet activity as groups of students chatted softly over notes and books. It was that time of the year when exams were imminent. Lily and Remus were surrounded by books and papers. A floating teapot steamed as both students absently sipped tea. Remus had charmed it to stay warm and refill their cups as needed. Lily filed that knowledge away for later experimentation. They had started out on a sofa, but their notes and books began to spread out to the point that it became necessary to move down to the floor. Now, Peter was sprawled out behind them, occasionally asking for help with his Charms work.

The arrival of James and Sirius was heralded by the sound of running feet and laughter. When they entered the Common Room, several pairs of eyes gazed at them reproachfully.

“Oi, Padfoot ... why is it so quiet in here?” James whispered urgently.

Sirius shrugged. “Exams, I guess?”

“Exams?” James glanced at Remus, Lily, and Peter. “Exams. Yeah. I suppose I should probably ... do that.”

Sirius let himself flop inelegantly to the ground beside Remus, causing some of his notes to flutter. His teacup rattled indignantly.

Just when he was about to be annoyed, Sirius burrowed close, hugging his knee so awkwardly he had to chuckle instead. He gave the shaggy hair a gentle pat.

James looked as though he would very much like to do the same to Lily, but fortunately for him, thought better of it and sat beside Peter on the couch.

“Shove over a bit, would you, Pete? I suppose I should do a bit of review. Accio my Charms book!”

James’ book came hurtling down from the dorm in a manner very similar to its owner.

“What were you two off doing anyway?” Peter asked

James shrugged. “A bit of research. For Muggle Studies,” he said, a little too nonchalantly.

Lily cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “What sort of horrible Muggle-Magical hybrid did you two unleash? I haven’t forgotten when you charmed the outdated, terribly stereotypical Muggle outfits to have a walkabout.”

Sirius rolled onto his back, his proud smile at the memory so genuine it actually made Lily want to give him a pat on the head as well. Remus might be the werewolf, but sometimes, she thought privately, his boyfriend was positively canine.

“Those clothes were so stodgy. Like all of the Muggles are going about dressed like that! I know Muggle fashion and all I had to do was pay a bit of attention,” he said.

Lily nodded her agreement. Sirius could make a band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a blazer look like he should be on a runway. Not that she would tell him that. His head was already big enough. He looked adoringly up at Remus, who blushed and let his arm rest across the other boy’s chest.

Instead, she said, “You do know that most Muggles don’t go about dressed like David Bowie and Freddie Mercury, right?”

Still grinning at the memory of stodgy old Muggle clothes having a stroll and then a waltz around the classroom, Sirius replied, “Only the cool ones.”

“Pads, your arse is on my Charms book. That can’t be comfortable,” Remus raised an eyebrow, then rolled his eyes. “Unless of course you’re actively trying to get me to reach for it. Attention hog.”

Sirius, who was once again wearing Remus’ oversized rust-colored jumper sighed happily. “I love how well you know me.”

Ever since Remus had given him the sweater when he had been hurt, Sirius found reason after reason to wear it. Remus had complained that when he wore the jumper it made him look shabby, but somehow made Sirius look artfully disheveled.

Her attention drifted to James, whose eyes flickered studiously across the pages of his Charms book. He hadn’t asked her out once since the incident around the holidays, and she was annoyed that this bothered her. Maybe he was embarrassed that she had seen him so upset? Sirius had been much worse off, and he didn’t seem awkward about it. If anything, he had started spending more time with her, gotten to know her, told her she was pretty, and thanked her a few dozen times for aiding in his rescue. Remus explained later that Sirius liked positive attention so much himself that he could go a bit overboard when he was trying to make someone feel good about themselves. She hadn’t minded.

She sighed, shut the book, and stretched her arms. “I need a moment. My brains are turning to mush.” She leaned back against the sofa, eyes closed, and felt the back of her head brush James’ knee. He tensed, but didn’t pull away.

Hmmm. Interesting. She decided to file the information away. Maybe he was over her? Embarrassed? Under orders from his friends to behave like a human being? If she asked the other Marauders, they would certainly tell James that she had asked, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad?

She felt a wad of paper hit her face, then another. She opened her eyes to see the papery bird-creature Marlene had accidentally transfigured Lily’s essay into earlier in the year. The awful thing had been flapping about the Common Room ever since, letting out its mysteriously-appearing paper droppings at will. She had long since rewritten and turned in the essay, but the fact that she had not been able to stop the essay-bird was infuriating.

Peter had seen what happened, and he chortled gleefully. “That thing’s just had a dump on your forehead, Evans! I thought you and Marlene stopped it weeks ago.”

Lily sat up, glaring at the flappy, papery thing. “We put it in a bin, but it escaped. Marls dumped water on it yesterday, but it’s made a full recovery since. She swears she doesn’t know what went wrong to make it this way.”

Stirring his tea thoughtfully, Remus asked, “In some cultures, it’s good luck for a bird to have a poo on you.”

Lily raised an eyebrow at him and he hastily changed his direction. ”Have you asked McGonagall? I’d imagine she could stop the little pest.”

James laughed. “Can you imagine if she went after it in cat form? I’d pay to see that!”

Sirius was looking way too thoughtful, as though he was trying to engineer exactly how to have that happen. She envisioned his brain looking like a Rube Goldberg design on the inside. “Minnie could do it, that’s for sure.”

“The point is that it was my essay and I want to figure it out,” she said firmly. “It’s not hurting anyone. It’s just occasionally annoying. Rather like you lot, these days,” she said, her tone more affectionate than critical.

She stretched again, then pulled her book back into her lap. “What were you two up to earlier? What type of research were you doing?”

James turned a bit pink. “Nothing important. Not a prank, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said.

“Sirius?” Lily asked. “Anything you wish to tell me?”

He turned as pink as James. “Ah, well, you see ...”

James crossed his arms, scowling.  “Traitor.”

“Look at her eyes, James! She’s giving me those sad baby animal eyes. You know I’m powerless here,” Sirius rationalized.

James glanced up at Lily and nodded. “Fine, then.”

“So ... James and I, we got rather ... interested in that episode of Muggle tell-o-vision we watched in class.”

She frowned. “The one with the doctors? The medical soap opera?”

“That’s the one. You see, I like a good story, and so does old Prongsy. When we were first years, Moony used to read out loud sometimes, just in the dorm, you know? Hard to sleep sometimes when you’re little and off alone the first time, right?”

Peter snorted. “First years? Moony still reads him to sleep sometimes - “

“Anyway, the point is that me and James, we got really sort of invested in knowing whether or not the surgery was successful.”

“What?” Lily watched them both, confused.

“Like, did Mr. Morris die? Did he live? How did his wife take it? Did he ever find out his son wasn’t really his? Did his brother find out? You can’t just show a bloke one chapter and not ever let him see the rest of the book!”

Sirius sounded so indignant she was torn between wanting to laugh out loud and hug him.

James took over. “I hate unresolved story lines. So, we sneaked into the lab to see if the Prof had more of it on the - the tape, was it? Are they tapes? Because I thought tapes were the new records?”

Looking thoroughly scandalized, Sirius protested, “Nothing will ever replace vinyl, Prongs. It’s not right.”

She laughed and caught Remus’ eye. His smile lit up his face, she suspected as much by the admission of story time as by their insatiable desire to find out how the unfortunate Mr. Morris had fared.

Trust serialized Muggle television drama to ensnare the minds of the most ridiculously curious members of Gryffindor House.

“Did you find it?” She asked.

They exchanged glances. “No ... but we did knock over the entire tell-o-vision catalog. We tried to put it right, but Filch was on the move, and we had to bolt,” Sirius explained.

“The films - those are the round ones, right? They were rolling about, and we had to go out the window and climb up to avoid being caught,” James finished.

Surprising even herself, Lily laughed out loud at their tale. The Muggle artifacts in the lab were just that - artifacts. Most of them were so old they were from her parents’ time rather than the current decade.

“First of all, it’s absolutely adorable that you’re so interested. Especially since shows like that are mostly watched by Muggle housewives with awfully boring lives. Secondly, my mum and my sister watch that soap opera, I believe. I can inquire over the summer and send you an owl, if you like.”

The hopefulness in their eyes was so ridiculous that Peter and Remus burst into guffaws as well.

Helplessly, Remus managed, “We’ve always said James was a bit mumsy. When his Quidditch kids get hurt, when one of us needs him - aww, don’t blush, Prongs. It’s actually very sweet. I mean it.”

James shook his head, joining in the laughter. “An owl would be great, Lily. We’ll both be at my place this year, so ... two birds one stone? Er ... okay, bad taste there, Potter. No killing, then.”

Lily smiled as sweetly as she could. “There’s only one bird on my kill list, and it’s the one that was formerly my essay.” She gestured with two fingers from her eyes and pointed at the roosting paper bird. “I’ve got my eyes on you!”

Sirius squinted at it from his position on the floor. “What if - no, it couldn’t ...”

“What?” She asked. “What if what?”

Hesitantly, he continued. “What if ... when it, well ... shits, it’s actually editing your essay? Have you unwrapped any of the droppings?”

She made a face. “No, I have not unwrapped the droppings. Ugh!”

James stood, bowed before her, and went to pick up some of the little balls of paper. He gave a small cry of disgust. “Why is it ... moist? Padfoot, help!”

“Can’t. ‘m comfortable. If I get up, I’ll die.”

“Drama, much?” Remus asked, dryly.

“Drama always,” Sirius sighed happily, hugging Remus’ knee even tighter.

James pushed on, peeling back the mushy paper bits, making a face the whole time.

With a monumental effort and a long sigh, Sirius pushed himself upright. “It doesn’t eat, mate. It can’t be that bad. You’ve spat parchment loogies twice that size and somehow didn’t get poisoned,” he said, taking a little paper ball into his hand as well. “Christ, it’s mushy! That’s quite distasteful.”

At that point, Peter joined in, picking an old one off of the end table next to the sofa. “You’re right, Pads. It’s ... damp.”

Remus sighed heavily. “As I’m out of synonyms for the word wet, I suppose this is up to me.”

He pulled out his wand, levitated the paper ball, and then cast a drying charm on it. “Remember? We’re magical?” He asked, sarcastically.

Remus unwrapped the now-dry ball of paper and read aloud, “Remove third paragraph, take the fourth sentence and use it as a thesis statement. Rework.”

“Well!” Lily fumed.

Sirius did the same and read his, “Must pare down. Far too long-winded.”

Peter read, “Too wordy. Please summarize Paragraph twenty.”

“Really!” She growled.

James looked at his, looked back up at Lily, and thought better of it, stuffing the paper ball into his pocket. “Um ... Lily? Were you and Marls partnered on this essay, by chance?”

“Yes, why?” She asked, expectantly.

She was finding herself most distracted by the way he rubbed at his arm when he was nervous. When had she noticed that he did that?

“Because,” he said, a little reluctantly. “I think she may have pranked you but good. There is no way this is accidental magic or a mistake. It’s bloody brilliant!”

“If Marlene did this, we’re missing out on a potentially amazing pranking resource! Where is she, anyway? Haven’t seen her all day.” Sirius stood on a chair, trying to gently scoop the paper bird into his hand. It flapped indignantly to a higher perch.

Moments later, all four Marauders were after the bird, shouting, laughing, and levitating furniture and one another. Remus tried an Accio on it, but it didn’t work.

James let out a low whistle. “Merlin, she’s good! What did you do to piss her off, anyway?”

Lily thought, but couldn’t come up with anything. She winced at the sight of Sirius, being levitated by Peter toward the overhead lamps.

“Steady on, Pete! Don’t drop me, mate!” He called as he reached for the essay-bird. His hands were about to close around it, when the door opened to admit Minerva McGonagall.

“It’s a bit noisier than usual in here. Is anything wr - “ She stopped, taking in the sight of Sirius mid-air, James on a chair, and Remus on the floor, still guarding their notes and books, and his floating teapot. “Mr. Black! You come right down here this moment! Mr. Pettigrew, put him down. Gently!” Admonished the Gryffindor Head of House.

When Sirius was safely on the floor, she asked calmly, “Could someone explain the wild rumpus I could hear through the wall in my study?”

Sirius grinned at her. “I knew you cared, Minnie.”

McGonagall ignored him, but there was no fire in her glare.

Lily and James started at the same time, “Well, Professor,” “You see, Professor, I - “

The essay-bird took its opportunity to swoop free of Sirius’ grasp, and dump a wet little paper ball on McGonagall’s head. Without a single moment of hesitation, she transformed into a cat, leapt into the air, and caught it in her teeth, giving it a little shake for good measure.

All of the students stared, but the Marauders and Lily were momentarily speechless. Professor McGonagall transformed quickly back into herself, removed the paper bird from her mouth quite daintily, and tucked it into the pocket of her robe.

“Was that the trouble, then?” She asked.

“Yes, Professor McGonagall,” Lily answered. “It - it used to be my old Charms essay. I had to rewrite, after, well ...” She gestured to the pocket area of the professor’s robe.

“An excellent essay you turned in, Miss Evans. It will be curious to have a look at the old one, if I can get it to unspell itself without destroying it.” She glanced around the room to where James and Sirius were still a bit star-struck from her heroic feline actions. “If everything is well, I shall return to my grading?”

Satisfied that her students were safe and much quieter, she left.

“Merlin,” James breathed. “That was brilliant!”

“It was like a prophecy. I wished for it, and it happened! Did someone slip me a luck potion or what?” Sirius exclaimed. “She just ... transformed ... already in the air and took it down, like a little tabby tiger for the kill!”

It took a few minutes for the excitement to die down, but as Lily returned to studying and drinking tea with Remus, she cast another surreptitious glance at James. Huh. Not hideous, a bit mumsy, and loves a good story. Who knew?

[harryimaginedstories]

starboy

 hi friends! 

!!! I M P O R T A N T !!!  This is kinda part of the relationship the couple of these story lines have:  Party Monster & Reminder - it’s a prequel to both and about the pair meeting for the first time. Also: the Harry in this story is different than the Harry I normally write about. This very weird picture isn’t mine.

“Mate,” Harry sighed, head thrown back and hands pressed flat to his heated cheeks, about zero patience in his body, “M’not in the mood.”

Grayson shrugged, indifferent to his friend’s words, while his fingers pushed the hangers in Harry’s closet back and forth in search for something his friend could wear to the party he planned on dragging him to that night. A party Harry would much rather miss. But knowing his friend, Harry could be sure that a no wouldn’t be accepted, because as one of his oldest mates, Grayson had learned how to deal with him. Sometimes all that could be done when Harry was in a mood was to push him, even if it pissed him off even further. This was one of those situations. Harry watched with annoyed eyes from his position on his bed, tongue hurting under the pressure of his teeth.

“Don’t care,” Grayson muttered and curled his fingers around one of Harry’s colourful silk shirts, “You could wear this one?”

Harry shook his head, a deep frown on his face. “S’missing a button somewhere in the middle. But seriously, Grayson. Don’t want to spend hours with a group I don’t know the majority of and where everybody’s drunk. M’too old for that. Almost 24 and all.”

Laughing Grayson turned to his friend and threw a pink and white stripped jacket at him. “This one’s nice. Only wore that once, have you? And besides, Jamie and Kelly will be there as well. You know them.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Not how you’re going to motivate me to get off my arse.” 

Grayson stepped back to watch his friend brush over the soft material of his jacket, a serious expression on his face. Harry was still opposed to going, but he did admit that he liked that jacket. Grayson grinned, knowing that he, contradicting to Harry’s earlier words, was close to winning him over. About time, too. He’d been arguing and grilling him for the past thirty minutes and sitting him down and browsing through his clothes was what he hoped would finally motivate Harry to come with him. A last resort, so to speak and he considered himself lucky for Harry’s vein streak.

“Match that with jeans and some white shirt of yours and there you go. The Styles look is complete.”

Harry sighed and nodded in defeat. “M’not sure ‘bout this, Gray.”

“That’s okay, I am. You’re coming with me and Jenna ‘cause sitting at home at New Year’s isn’t something I am going to accept.”

“That’s okay, I am,” Harry copied him smartly, eyes full of a cheeky sparkle.

A soft white shirt landed in Harry’s face and when his friend laughed, Harry found himself smiling a little.

“Fucking fine!” 

“Good boy,” Grayson joked and walked towards the bathroom attached to the bedroom in search for one of Harry’s colognes. “Also: call yourself old in my presence one more time and it’ll get you fired.”

The house where Grayson’s friend held his party at wasn’t anywhere near Harry’s home and he huffed in annoyance, knowing that Grayson wouldn’t let him call for an uber or cab anytime before one am and taking the tube this day of the year... absolutely fucking not.  Snow coated the garden and Harry did have to admit that the golden and silver lights decorating the trees and fence around the property looked kinda lovely and some how managed to awake the last tiny shred of the christmas feeling he’d felt slowly drain from him in the past days. Reluctantly he smiled. He wasn’t going to admit that to Grayson though and acted quickly to replace the smile with a deep frown when he felt his friend’s eyes on him.

Grayson nudged his arm and turned to open the door of his car. “If you hate it, just go charm a girl, drink something nice and you’ll be fine. Nothing hooking up couldn’t fix for you before, right?”

Harry chose to ignore that piece of advice and excited the car as well, before following his friend up to the door and into the massive house.  It didn’t take more than twenty seconds to be noticed and swarmed by people. Seemingly everybody in the entryway wanted to say Hi to Harry, which was something he normally wouldn’t mind too much but tonight Harry found himself struggling not to look annoyed with absolutely everyone. What kind of bullshit idea was New Years, huh? Commercial and absolute shit, he thought grimly. A drink was thrust into his hand and he was cautious not to spill it over the dozen people getting a hug or clapped him on the back. His sour mood worsened. Grayson noticed Harry’s discomfort and excused them both by claiming he really wanted to introduce Harry to somebody, before leading him into the living room, which was luckily so packed with people nobody looked twice at who’d come in to join.

“I’ll say it now, just so you know,” Harry spoke, voice raised over the loud music making his ears ring, “coming here was a mistake.”

“Loosen up a bit, will you. Look,” Grayson nodded towards the couch at the far end of the room where a couple of guys had gathered, “You know that bloke over there don’t you? S’not all strangers around here.”

Harry grimaced. “Yeah and I can’t stand him. He’s a dick.”

Grayson groaned, giving up. “Okay, that attitude of yours: starting to piss me off. I better not spend midnight anywhere near you since I plan on starting 2018 on a positive note.”

“I told you I didn’t wanted to fucking come here,” Harry growled, suddenly upset with Grayson’s lack of patience and pushed past him to get to the makeshift bar where he let the girl behind the table (or for the purpose sake, counter) fill him three shots of tequila, which he downed in less than one minute.

He fucking hated it here. The room smelled of parfume and none of the girls eyeing him tempted him in the slightest, but that he supposed could be fixed with a bit of alcohol. Perhaps an intoxicated brain wouldn’t care about their makeup smeared faces and too tight fitting dresses. The males were even worse though, all of them sleazy and gross. But the night was still young and yeah maybe he did owe it to Grayson to at least give it a try. Harry shrugged. In one point Grayson had been right: so far hooking up had always cheered him somehow up, even his shittiest mood could be lifted that way. He ordered another round of drinks and was about to raise the small glass to his lips when his eyes drifted back to the couch where the bloke from earlier, Aiden, had been sitting only minutes ago. When he couldn’t see him, his shoulders momentarily relaxed. Perhaps he’d gone? Great, one dickhead less he’d have mess up his evening.

But no, Aiden was right next to the couch with a red looking drink in one hand and a girl’s upper arm in the other. His lips were thin and spread into an ugly grin while he pulled the girl, another party guest Harry didn’t know, closer into his side. His mouth opened to speak and the girl’s shoulders tensed. Harry cleared his throat and frowned, not only because of the heavy taste the tequila left on his tongue when drowning his fourth shot, but due to the obvious discomfort written all over the female’s face. Her eyes were wide and by the reflection of the lights in her orbs, Harry could tell she was close to crying. This really wasn’t her night. Her body squirmed in Aiden’s hold and her lips parted to release a wince of distress. It was enough for Harry to shoot out of his seat, the alcohol warming his veins and angering him further. His feet carried him quickly and he reached them in seconds. A dark chuckle left his mouth when his hand pressed forcefully to Aiden’s back, pushing him right out of his way so it was now Harry who stood in front of the pretty girl instead of him.

“Hello, love,” he greeted her sweetly and call it liquid courage, but he went as far as leaning in to press a warm kiss to her flushed cheek. 

It wasn’t unusual for him to be forward with girls, but something about her posture almost intimidated him and he took a deep breath to remain calm. She smelled amazing and was actually quite pretty, too, yet it didn’t go unnoticed to him that her body went rigid with shock as another male, aside from Aiden, had swooped in to make her uncomfortable and probably hit on her. He’d better make it quick then.  His hand rubbed her arm up and down, successfully forcing Aiden to remove his hold on her by knocking against his fingers several times and he smiled kindly at the stranger in front of him. Her soft eyes cleared.

“Harry,” Aiden said, clearing his throat, “Kinda in the middle of something with that one.”

Harry turned his attention to the guy and arched his brows. “Oh, were you? Didn’t expect my date to make friends so quickly. Especially with you... what was it? Aaron?”

His eyes narrowed. “Aiden. And Y/N here’s your date?”

Both of them turned their faces back to the girl, who looked beyond confused at what was going on, for confirmation. Realization flashed over her features. Harry’s heart suddenly warmed at the sight of her smile and was quick to hide his surprise when her hands found his back and she stepped closer to him and away from Aiden. He found himself grinning in triumph. 

“I couldn’t find you,” she purred to Harry, just loud enough for Aiden to hear, too, before she, just like Harry had, pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

Harry’s knees weakened at the feeling. Her forehead brushed his shoulder and she leaned into him as if in a romantic embrace, even went as far as sighing.

“Went to grab us a drink but the bar’s too crowded,” Harry shrugged, pulling her in even more until she was pressed up against him, making it very clear that she wasn’t on her own but with a guy.

Aiden rolled his eyes, raised the glass he held in his hand in a cheer and turned away to talk to somebody else he knew. Harry took that as his cue to grasp Y/N’s small hand in his and pull her away from the corner and towards the hallway at the far opposite end. It was less crowded and most importantly, Aiden free.  When his eyes found hers they were no longer glossy, but wide with humor.

“You’re a good actress,” Harry smirked, releasing Y/N’s hand, even though he didn’t really want to, and stepped back to lean against the wall so he could face her. 

“And you’re a savior,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest, before smiling kindly, “Thank you. That guy’s a real prick.”

Harry laughed at that and nodded. “Yeah. He’s known for being an asshole, actually. S’why I came over.”

She really was pretty, he thought, letting his eyes wander over her face. Her cheeks were still a little red, her eyes sparkling and full of warmth and her lips... well Harry couldn’t think of anything other than what it would be like to have them pressed to his own. Feeling them against his cheek wasn’t enough, it only awoke a desire in his tummy that made his skin shudder. Was she the kind of girl who would moan when he kissed her? And would she enjoy a little tongue or not? Harry smirked and swallowed visibly before reaching out and brushing his fingertips against Y/N’s collarbones in a gentle gesture. It was the most he allowed himself to touch her. Her heart jumped and her breath hitched. If she were anyone else, Harry would’ve moved closer without hesitating and pushed her back so she were pressed up against the wall and with his chest to hers. He would’ve kissed her forcefully, used by now to girls enjoying it when he was forward and he would’ve found out quickly what she was into. She would’ve whimpered when his lips bruised the skin of her neck he only dared to touch briefly and his pants got slightly uncomfortable at the thought of her body pressed to his and her quiet sighs in his ear. Would she scratch his neck? Or would she prefer to hold on to his shoulders while he pleasured them both?  Oh did he wish to find out. But he couldn’t.  Somehow she intrigued him too much to risk being pushed off and rejected. And also, he never wanted to be like Aiden. Their short interaction was proof enough to show that she wasn’t somebody who would’ve liked him being physically forward with her, but perhaps she would like his personality anyway?

“Want me to grab a drink for you or something?” Y/N offered, feeling silly but at the same time determined to keep the handsome stranger interested and in a conversation with her.

He wasn’t as talkative as Aiden had been, which she preferred by a far and the sensation of his fingers touching her skin was enough to leaver her burning and to have her thoughts running wild.

Harry’s eyes narrowed and the smile he gave her was enough to make her heart ache.

“No, that’s alright. Had a couple when I arrived and I better lay off for a bit or else I’ll spend midnight with my head in the toilet.”

Y/N was careful not to let her disappointment show and nodded. “Okay.”

She cleared her throat before crossing her arms. 

“I’ll better not waste any more of your time. Thanks again for getting rid of Aiden. I- well, I’ll be somewhere around.”

Harry’s frown deepened and he quickly reached out to grasp her arm and pull her back.

“But,” he added, surprised at the weight in his chest caused by her frowned expression of disappointment, and he hated how he wanted a girl he didn’t even know, to feel better and above all, stay around, “We’re going to go get a drink for you.”

She giggled at his demanding tone and nodded, though it hadn’t really been a question. “Sure. I’d like that.”

Harry smiled and moved his head towards the makeshift bar. She led the way and Harry strangely enjoyed how she turned to look if he was following her, just as if she would be sad if he wasn’t. Part of him was tempted to turn around and hide from her, only to see if she would in fact wear a displeased expression. But he didn’t, instead he reached out to brush his hands against her shoulder blades to ensure her of his presence. Funny, from a far their interaction now made the one in front of Aiden look even less fake. Once they reached the bar he made sure she was handed a cocktail, one that didn’t have too much alcohol in it so she would be tipsy and not more, and Y/N liked how Harry kept one hand on her back, clearly to make sure no other bloke got any ideas.  It was different than what she was used to, a guy to be so forward with her, but not gross or groping at all, and she was surprised at her own attraction to the kind of bossy way he behaved.

Harry didn’t like it, this interest he found himself developing for her and momentarily he debated saying something sleazy or to just plain abandon her just so he could bring back the distance he’d kept to everybody when he stepped into the house. The warmth of her eyes made him want to never look away again but burn in them instead, happy so actually, and those lips... He swallowed hard. How was she so enchanting to him? Once she approved of the liquid’s taste, Harry grasped her hand and led her back to the hallway and upstairs, hoping to find a quiet corner somewhere where he could charm her the way she already had him. Also, the alcohol clouded his mind and he knew he either needed to drink more and start having fun, or sit down and stay sane. So they found a small couch upstairs where they could sit, still in a hallway so things weren’t private enough to be awkward but much nicer than downstairs. Y/N offered him a sip of her drink, which he denied, before she began to ask him about how his Christmas had been (alright, he replied truthfully) and who it was he’d come to this party with (the mate who’d forced him to).  That answer pleased her. He wasn’t here with a woman then.  She moved to sit closer to him and their thighs touched, a shy smile on her lips.

It was then Harry’s turn to ask her questions. Where she lived, he wanted to know, if she liked it in London and if she was excited about a new year beginning. 

“Indifferent to it,” Y/N replied, to which he agreed. 

Y/N was surprisingly funny, Harry found, after she made him laugh out loud and the more she drank from her drink the bolder she got until Harry had her arm interlocked with his.

“So,” Y/N began, “You don’t really want to be here, do you?”

“S’that obvious?” Harry laughed at that and this time he did hold out his hand for her drink, which she handed him so he could take a sip.  He pulled a face and she giggled, the sweet taste almost painful in his mouth.

Y/N cleared her throat. “Well, kinda. You haven’t asked me to dance yet and we’ve been here talking for about twenty minutes now. Aiden for instance had his hands near my boobs about ten minutes in so he was absolutely enjoying the party. You’re... a lot more quiet.”

Mentioning Aiden’s name left a sour taste in his throat and he wished, though he had only noticed Y/N because of him, that she hadn’t encountered that dick. She shouldn’t have had a guy grope her. Ever. Even thinking about it made him want to go back and knock his teeth out.

“S’that a bad thing?” he decided to say instead, “Me being quiet?”

Y/N shook her head. “Not at all. I like it.”

Harry wished she’d move closer to him and lean her lovely head against his shoulder, but to his faint disappointment she didn’t. 

“To be honest I really fucking didn’t want to come here. But... well, don’t hate being here since noticing you”

Y/N’s skin shuddered and her cheeks warmed with a blush. It wasn’t often that a young, handsome guy like Harry came around and just talked to her. People like him would normally not interact with people like her, making it hard for her to behave normally and to know what she should say. Obviously she knew who he was, but somehow it didn’t matter, not here, when Harry acted so normal and strangely flirtatious with her.

His stomach fluttered when her hand brushed his arm and she sighed his name, “It’s really nice to just be with you.”

He smiled, the sound of her whispering his name ringing in his ears. “S’nice to just be with you, too. How come we haven’t met before?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea.”

“Harry!” 

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by a group of girls noticing his presence and instantly running up the stairs and to where they sat. Harry only recognized one of them and shot Y/N an apologetic look before he was swarmed by females who tried to embrace and talk to him, ignoring the girl he already had by his side.

“S’nice to see you again, Ash,” he muttered, and though Y/N was still brushing his arm, the far too many other hand grasping at him brought the uneasiness from earlier right back.

Oh no.  Harry felt sick and so did Y/N when reality caught up with them. He hated that. They couldn’t even enjoy one evening before she was taught what exactly it meant being with him: Attention and lots of girls throwing themselves at him.  Harry felt like he was partly to blame, since under other circumstances he so far hadn’t ever minded being the center and everybody wanting a piece of him. But why did Ash and her friends have to show up when he was trying to be different? When he was trying to be with Y/N?

With jealousy in her eyes, Y/N watched hands pull at his hair, lips press to his cheeks and several voices mixed together when all of the girls tried to talk to him and get his eyes on them.

Harry squirmed and blindly reached for Y/N’s hold, which he could tell he found by her voice raising all of a sudden. “All of you, back off right now!”

The swarm of girls backed away and Harry’s orbs found Y/N’s before she turned back to the group.

“Excuse us?” Ash looked at Y/N with pure anger in her expression, seemingly only noticing her now, “And who are you?”

“Besides the point. How dare you grope him like that, huh? Leave!”

The harshness in her voice came as a surprise to him. She’d been calm and collected, sweet and innocent so far and now she was harsh and held on to his hand almost possessively.  Harry surprised her too. He’d been so confident all night but when he was swarmed by people wanting his attention, he was almost too shy to speak. 

“Fuck you,” one of the girls cussed, though the glare Y/N gave them and how she tightened her hold on him was enough to make them step back and finally leave the two be. 

“What,” Harry turned to look at her with arched brows, “was that?”

Y/N smirked and shrugged before she leaned forward to kiss his shoulder lightly. “You saved me from being groped, so I figured I ought to return the favor.”

He smiled and pulled he in. “Thank you.”

“Is it always this bad?”

He nodded and a shadow crossed his face. “Most times.”

Only normally he encouraged it. He smiled and raised his head to look at Y/N properly. She hadn’t even lied and pulled him away like Grayson had done when they’d arrived, but spoke up to make sure he’s okay. Harry sat up and held out his palm for her to take. “Let’s move to a different room, yeah? Bit more quiet.”

“I’d say that’s a good idea.” 

Y/N’s fingers held on to his and pulled him down the hall and into one of the empty bedrooms. He assumed her bravery was due to the alcohol cursing through her veins and the kick of shouting at the group of girly. She would’ve probably agreed. The room was big and had a large bed in it, one Y/N under other circumstances would’ve felt intimidated by. But tonight that wasn’t the case and Harry chuckled when she jumped onto the mattress in a heartwarmingly childlike manner. 

“This is unbelievably soft,” she sighed before waving Harry over to come sit on the bed. 

He followed of course, he was sure he’d follow her anywhere by this point, and crawled in to lay beside her, his head on the pillow and his hands finding her arms. It felt nice to have Y/N close and the loud noise of the music completely blocked out.  All that could be heard was their breathing and the words leaving one of them every now and again.

Maybe caring about this person wouldn’t be too bad after all, he thought. Perhaps it was time to stop wanting to be alone.

“You’re good.” 

Harry frowned. “M’what?”

“Good,” Y/N repeated, “You’re kind and funny. Saved me from a creep.”

He sighed and she opened her arms to encourage him to move closer. For whatever reason it didn’t feel weird to have a stranger in her embrace, to feel his hair tickle her cheek and to be pressed up to him tightly. He moved so she was still sprawled out on her back and had him leaning over her body with just enough weight resting on top of her so she felt he was there.

“I think things would’ve been nicer had we met earlier.”

She smiled softly at his words and his eyes closed when a finger found his cheek and caressed the skin. It wasn’t clear who kissed who first, but while the people downstairs continued to frantically search for somebody to kiss at midnight, Y/N and Harry lay intertwined on the comfortable bed, mouths open and licking into the other’s, hands scratching and holding on to what they could reach from the other person’s body and though they were impossibly close, both of them hurt with the need to be closer.

“Y/N,” Harry groaned quietly, letting his mouth find the tender skin of her collarbones where he began to lick and kiss and bite just how he’d wanted to.

“Happy new year,” she gasped, arms slinging around his neck and he laughed, nodded and returned to kiss her heavily. 

Happy new year indeed, Harry thought as his chest pressed to the girl’s he hadn’t known two hours ago. Maybe this year things would change for the better. If he kept her by his side, he was certain he would get a chance.

I wish all of you a happy new year, that you’re lucky and well and that you don’t think this one sucks x. Since Party Monster was created off a New Year’s request from one year ago, I figured this would be fun to write in the same ‘world.’

Masterlist

Christmas Harry 

[aibidil]

So if you had to choose, out of Harry or Draco, which one do you think gets more turned on by the sight of the other one with their sleeves rolled up to the elbows exposing FOREARMS?

Why hello, @goldentruth813, forearms!drarry, you say? You have come to the right place.

First of all, I hope it’s clear that there’s no real answer to this question, because, like with most things with these two, they’re both completely lost over each other and that includes forearms.

And, like most lovers, they enjoy each other’s bodies in general. They don’t have perfect bodies, you know, but that doesn’t matter to people in love. Harry has a pretty good physique from trying to keep up with Greg and Dudley at the gym, but the truth is he can’t lay off the treacle tart and has a bit of a belly, and Draco is totally into it. And Draco is good-looking, but he’s also kinda too skinny and he never goes to the gym with the others because “honestly Harry, have you smelled it there?” but Harry thinks Draco is gorgeous and doesn’t mind his pointiness. In any case, I digress. They love each other’s bodies.

But the thing about bodies is they’re usually clothed in public? So you might stare at the way a set of shoulders fill out a pair of robes, or you might admire the curve of an ass in a pair of gabardine wizarding trousers or ratty but well-fitted Muggle jeans, but in general the bodies are kept under wraps. Which is a pretty good thing, indeed, because these two have a hard enough time keeping their hands off each other. Harry has confided more than once to Draco that he doesn’t understand how Ginny keeps her hands off Luna when Luna wears that set of robes with the plunging neckline.

But forearms. Forearms.

Draco blames/credits the first time they ever kissed on Harry’s forearms in a baseball tee. It had those three-quarter sleeves, you know, and that really thin, soft cotton. After the war, Muggle fashion was in vogue, and all the Quidditch teams had started selling Muggle-inspired team paraphernalia. Harry liked to wear the Montrose Magpies tee to annoy Ron (who, incidentally, had bought one of every item in the Cannons inventory). And Harry had these gorgeous tanned forearms sticking out of this blasted Muggle-inspired plebeian Quidditch tee? But Draco really had always liked the Magpies? And Harry, at the time, had been busy writing and each stroke of the quill caused the muscles in his forearms to move, and the arms were covered with this layer of dark hair and Draco was overcome with this desire to know where that hair ended? Was his back hairy?—Merlin forbid; Draco had to know; it was for science, really. And so he was just staring at Harry’s arms, and then Harry stuck his tongue between his teeth, because he’s the kind of bloke to stick his tongue in his teeth when he’s concentrating, and Draco may have kind of sort of Vanished the desk Harry was working at and grabbed Harry’s stupidly strong and tan and hairy forearms and yanked Harry toward him for a searing kiss.

These days Harry’s forearms distract Draco in a different way (though the Montrose Magpies baseball tee—which Harry still fucking has, and please can you read the Life-Changing Wizarding Magic of Tidying Up? It fucking brings me joy, Draco!—still drives Draco a bit randy, if he’s honest), because Harry is usually in his work robes and his gorgeous forearms are usually covered. So when he finally takes off his robes, which signals a sort of winding-down relaxation that always portends good things for Draco, the forearms cause a sort of anticipatory Pavlovian response. Forearms? Time to cook dinner with Harry. Forearms? Time for a do you feel like a glass of wine? Forearms? Fuck dinner, time to cast a Stasis and deal with that later.

Another less common way in which Harry’s forearms drive Draco to distraction occurs at events where Harry, for whatever reason, is wearing Muggle suits. Like Dudley and Greg’s destination beach wedding (Muggles in attendance, no robes allowed). Harry, it turns out, really hates wearing suits and immediately starts to act like he’s been hit with an Itching Jinx, grasping at his collar, fussing with his tie, whinging about how the shoulders don’t allow a free range of movement. So inevitably, Harry starts stripping off pieces of the suit, and this is when Draco generally sits back, swirling his drink, slowly feeling heat bloom in the pit of his stomach. Usually Harry loosens the tie first, exposing some of his neck, and then the suit jacket, which often reveals a waistcoat (and Circe, Draco has a real thing for waistcoats). But the next part is when the heat blossoming in Draco’s stomach starts to rise to his chest and neck: Harry unfastens his wrists and rolls up the sleeves. And it doesn’t even make any sense—there’s no logic involved here—because Harry is always good looking and he’s basically wearing the same thing regardless of the configuration of the sleeves, but let’s just say that once the sleeves are rolled up, Draco’s face is red and they’ve Apparated to a private location within a few minutes. (Harry generally returns to the function wearing something more comfortable, because “Draco, fuck it, there’s no way I’m putting that on twice in one day! You just took it off me!”)

But Harry is, believe it or not, just as obsessed with Draco’s forearms. Perhaps it’s because Draco is usually so buttoned-up. Draco is crisply pressed shirts and fussy robes and not ever rolling up his sleeves even if it’s the middle of the summer and sweat is dripping off his brow and down his neck. The first time Harry sees Draco roll up his sleeves, they’re sitting at a table together and it’s hot and they’re preoccupied and Draco does it without thinking. Harry has a coughing fit, because—in addition to staring at Draco’s forearms, which are lean and pale but also the tiniest bit freckly if you’re up close and the leanness allows you to see the muscles really well—it means that Draco trusts him. It means that Draco trusts him enough to stop with being buttoned-up, but it also means that Draco trusts him enough to see the Dark Mark and not freak out.

And the Dark Mark is horrible. It was awful when Voldemort was alive and it’s stomach-churning even after his death, when it’s faded to a pink scar. It’s ugly and it stands for ugly things, and Harry can’t stop thinking about how out of place it looks on Draco’s pale arm. Because Draco has done so much to redeem himself since the war; Draco isn’t ugly anymore (Draco was never physically ugly, of course, Harry mentally corrects, only the ideology was ugly). So the Mark seems incongruous on this Draco’s arm, and the human eye is drawn to incongruous things. Draco sees Harry looking and quirks an eyebrow, knowing Harry well enough by this point to know that he wouldn’t say anything hurtful about the Mark, but curious, nevertheless, about what Harry will say. But Harry only traces it with a finger, marveling at the way the scar tissue feels, and says, “Sometimes I wish the evil in me had a clear visual reminder like this: it’s still there, but it’s the past, you know?” And Draco stares at him for a moment—in awe, overcome with feelings he can’t quite name—before he pulls Harry into his lap and they divest themselves of their shirts entirely.

And when Draco agrees to start working with the new Muggle Studies and History of Magic professors at Hogwarts to talk to the students about the war and the toxicity of Voldemort’s ideology (“if you can even call it an ideology”), he starts to wear a uniform that consists of Muggle-style trousers, waistcoat, and shirt with rolled-up sleeves every day. Because showing off what remains of the Mark is part of his work, and overcoming his anxiety about letting people see it is for the greater good. And Harry really can’t control himself around that (“Are you sure you shouldn’t have sorted Hufflepuff, Harry?”). Draco has to ban Harry from accompanying him to Hogwarts, because the first time, after Harry spent an hour watching Draco discuss the war with a group of third-year Ravenclaws with his forearms and Mark on display, they ended up fucking in Myrtle’s bathroom, and the second time, after Draco had taught a lesson and somehow ended up with his forearms and face covered in chalk from the blackboard, Harry nearly Splinched himself trying to Apparate to avoid being caught with his trousers down by an ever-nosy Filch.

In fact, just yesterday, they were sitting at a table eating oats (“steel cut, not rolled, Harry”) in their pyjama pants and t-shirts, they were each driven to distraction by the other’s forearms, and after a brief (not-so-brief) breakfast intermission during which time the oats congealed, Harry declared, “I think we ought to wear our dressing gowns to breakfast on days we have to be somewhere.”

So it’s pretty much a tie, really.Tagging @lol-zeitgeistic @callingdrarry @carpemermaidtales @llap115 and everyone else who was involved in the Forearm Discourse of 2017.

[mycolourfullifeuk]

Today’s post questions are from A Guy Called Bloke‘s blog series called “Question Fun“.  Rory runs lots of interesting little series that I have been meaning to take part in but somehow I always end up missing out.  Rory has posted a series of questions around the theme of “The Fashionistas” and I decided that these were the ones I’d like to take a shot at answering!

Could you cope with buying no clothes for a full year?

When you say New do you mean new new or new to me new?  New new are clothes that are brand spanking new, the kind that is mass produced and then sold in stores, new to me clothes would be anything pre-loved, whether from a charity shop, vintage store or a jumble sale….  I would like to think I could live without new new clothes for a whole year but if I needed to replace something (new new clothes don’t last as well as older clothes as they don’t seem to be made as well…) I’d like to be able to replace it with a pre-loved item.  And, I’m not sure I could ever give up buying pre-loved items.  By buying pre-loved you are not only saving something from landfill, a lot of the time you are buying something that not many others have, something that is unique and has a history, but you are also building your own style and buying something that could last longer than brand new items.

How many pairs of coloured/patterned socks do you possess?

I think all of my socks are coloured or patterned!  Even my black socks have coloured toe and heel pieces to them!

What is YOUR number one fashion rule?

So many times in the past I have liked something and then been dissuaded from wearing it because it’s not in “fashion” and I got pretty fed up with fashion and how quickly things can be in fashion one minute and then not the next.  It’s exhausting and can cost a lot to keep up with all the trends.  My number one rule is…

If you like it, wear it!

What is the quirkiest customised outfit you have ever worn and where and what for did you wear it?

If you could see most of my wardrobe…a lot of it is quirky and I customise things to fit, change hemlines and mix and match most clothing I own!  I do own some very bright patchwork hareem trousers which I love!  They are made from tiny offcuts of material with tons of different prints on, they were made and sold at a festival I went to a few years ago!  I wear them to work sometimes!

In your opinion what are 5 basic but important items of clothing?

Vest tops – brilliant for summer wear, work as a transitional item between seasons, can be worn under dresses that show a bit too much boob and when they are starting to get a bit faded you can wear them as loungewear or as a PJ top!

Long sleeve t-shirts.  These are fab for layering in the cooler months or for wearing under dresses to take them from one season to the next.  I like to wear long sleeve tops under shorter sleeve t-shirt, under dungarees dresses and under hoodies as a base layer!

Leggings.  I have like, a million pairs of leggings!  They are fab to wear with tunic tops, long baggy jumpers, dressing up with heels and something sparkly, wearing around the house, wearing under clothes in the snow and sleeping in!  And while it may be tempting to pick up a load of cheap pairs it really is worth investing in something that is better quality and is less likely to be see-through and show off your pants.

Jeans.  What can go wrong with a pair of jeans?  You can dress them up, dress them down, and they work with so many other items of clothing.

Plain t-shirts.  For the same reasons given above for vest tops and long sleeve tops!

Ok, so Flares? Once popular for the 70’s sure …. but where are they now?

In my wardrobe!  Lol!  I still love a flare or wide leg trousers!  They can look really good if styled properly!

Which are your best three quotes that mean the most to you with regards fashion/clothing/lifestyle?

You obviously have favourite colours you enjoy wearing, we all do – but if you were asked to wear the opposite colours to what you normally wear what would those colours be?

Brown or navy…. not that I don’t have any brown or navy clothes, I do, but brown and navy are not colours I wear much of or really know what to pair them with.

What are the wrong trousers to wear like ever?

I don’t think there is any style that is the wrong trousers but for me, anything that is too short, too long, falls down, is too tight, doesn’t sit right, doesn’t have belt loops (though some styles are ok for no belt loops…) weird zips that never stay shut…anything that makes you feel uncomfortable really…

What is your favourite style of nightwear from the following options?

Baggy T-Shirt, boxers/long Johns

Especially for the spring and autumn months!

Ridiculous looking Pyjamas

A deffo for winter days spent snuggling on the sofa and watching films

Nothing as in bare all over

Sexy attire – you know the naughty stuff

Other

Shorts and vest top, t-shirt and cropped leggings, 80’s style cycle shorts and tops, long sleeve tops…

For you what one single musical track just speaks fashion to you?

The Dandy Warhols – Bohemian Like You

The celebrity whose style you most identify with from the following?

Melissa McCarthy

Jack Nicholsan

Clarke Gable

Halle Berry

Meryl Streep

Lady Gaga

She does what she wants, doesn’t follow any typical rules and she doesn’t seem to care what anyone else thinks.

Charlie Chaplain

Gene Kelly

Other

Would you wear stripes with squares?

Yes!  I think if done in the right way you can mix any prints that you want!

Which out of the following line up are you most likely to wear?

Heels, Boots, Flats, Loafers, Sneakers, Brogues, Thongs [Flip Flops], Running Shoes, Sandals, Wedges, Slippers, Lace Ups, Decks, Wellingtons, Riding Boots, Mules, Ankle Boots, Boat shoes, Chukkas, Chelsea Boot, Slips ons?

All of the above with the exception of loafers and boat shoes!  I think I have had most styles of shoe on my shoe rack at some point or other!

Are hats your thing? If so which styles?

I wish hats were my thing but, I always seem to look silly in a hat.  the only hats I own are either dress up hats (I have a pirate hat…) or winter bobble hats!

For women; last time you wore a scarf and for men; last time you wore a tie?

I don’t really remember the last time I wore a scarf.  I have a few silk neck scarf things that I have worn with dress and jacket ensembles in the past…maybe a year ago?

Have you ever physically suffered for the sake of a fashion trend?

Yes.  So, so many times.  I have worn shoes that have given me blisters, shoes that are too high for me to walk in properly and badly fitting shoes and I never seem to learn.  I have worn a steel boned corset that rubbed my rib cage raw and has scars there now…long skirts and trousers that have caused me to trip up and dresses that, once on I could barely breathe!  I tend to go for clothes that are comfortable now and that I can move and inhale in easily!  I think when I was younger I suffered more for a fashion trend as I was not as confident in my own style as I am now.  Shoes though, they will forever be my downfall!

Question Fun Today's post questions are from A Guy Called Bloke's blog series called "Question Fun…