#Breann White

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 93: The Shape of You

Luigi wasn’t alone in being anxious about the pregnancy.

Despite a relatively complication free first trimester, when they arrived at their second trimester appointment with Dr. Valezquez, the experienced therapist took one look at Noemi’s troubled expression and ill-fitting outfit and immediately recognized a sim in desperate need of comforting.

She welcomed them both warmly and jumped right in: “Our last session was quite focused on Luigi’s concerns. This time, let’s start with the mother to be. Adjusting to big changes like this can give anyone a hard time, and we’re here to find ways to help. So how are you feeling, dear?”

Noemi replied that she’d had a very helpful glimpse into their future recently. “Luigi’s teammate just had an adorable little baby boy and invited us over for dinner. Breanne, his wife, has already raised one child and told me a lot about what to expect in the years to come.”

Luigi jumped in to say that the way his co-captain had taken to the baby gave him great hope for his own child when Dr. Valezquez cut him off.

“Yes, spending time with other parents of a similar age can be very helpful, but we were waiting to hear how Noemi was feeling.”

“I’ve been taking very good care of myself, cooking healthy meals and avoiding junk food and empty calories. I’m also fully back into my old fitness regime and pushing more weight at the gym than ever before.” As she spoke, even Luigi noticed how she unconsciously seemed to hide her belly.

He thought back to noticing her longing looks at the sugary breakfast cereal he’d bought for her as she prepared a low-fat egg white omelet, and the way she’d been working out to the point of exhaustion. He glanced at the therapist and asked: “Is it possible to be in too good a shape?”

 “Not necessarily” the Doctor said, “But it raises an important question. Noemi, what do you think the healthiest shape is, for someone growing a whole new person right around … here?” She pantomimed a baby belly on herself, rounded and projecting. “And the healthiest frame of mind?”

Noemi’s eyes filled with tears at the question. She grabbed some tissues from the box Dr. Velasquez kept on hand and snuggled into her boyfriends' outstretched arms to explain: “The changes to my body are freaking me out a bit. My mom said a lot of hurtful things about my weight when I hit puberty. That’s when I started focusing more on working out and eating healthy.”

“My departed wife, Kiana, helped me learn to love and accept myself, but mom’s unkind words when we told her about the baby brought all those insecurities roaring back to the surface. Suddenly I was right back to hating looking at myself in the mirror.” She buried her face in Luigi’s shoulder. “I’m afraid if I put on baby weight, I’ll never get rid of it. ”

“It’s normal to struggle with the physical changes pregnancy brings, especially for people who’ve struggled with their body image in the past” their therapist gently told her. “But it’s important for you and your baby to get the fuel and rest you need to grow in healthy ways. Feel free to keep doing exercises that feel comfortable, but now isn’t the time to push harder.”  She smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to do all the pushing you want at the end.”

“If mirrors make it harder to love yourself, please, let your doctors and family support you there.” She looked at Luigi “Can we count on you to help Noemi see that she is beautiful and loved?”

 “Of course!” he said “Noemi will always be beautiful to me, no matter what. I just want her and the baby to be happy and healthy.”

“Great!” Dr. Valezquez beamed. “It’s a special time, enjoy it! Noemi, savor those cravings and enjoy whatever food your body calls for. Go shopping for something that shows off your new shape, rather than trying to hide it.”

Unknowingly mirroring Beau she continued: “Most importantly, start getting excited about the baby to come. It may help you both to remember this is really all about the third person on my couch right now.”

“I recommending finding out your little one's gender at your next OB visit and start trying out names. Studies show that finding out the gender of an unborn baby and giving him or her a name helps with bonding. Buy some cute things to decorate their room, talk to them, and wait for those baby kicks to start in earnest!” The doctor patted her own belly with a faraway look in her eye. “Getting prepared ahead of time will make things much easier when your baby finally arrives.”

The couple left their session that day with lots of “homework”, but in a much better frame of mind than the last time.

They would have one more session before the baby was born, and they both hoped to have made some progress, and have good news to share, by the time that final appointment rolled around.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[cakesexuality]

by unpopular demand, I'm back! We're throwing a giant costume ball in a fancy castle for Halloween. The grander the better. There's no budget constrictions to take into account, the world's your oyster, tell me, what would you go dressed as? How would it look? Does the party have a theme? If you were to host it what'd be the vibe? Where are you usually found at in parties? 😊

Oooh another Glitter Ask Sunday Monday

Using a cut because this got long and I even used pictures to illustrate some of my points

A costume I've wanted to do for a long time is inspired by a photo I once saw on Pinterest where two people were dressed as Spyro and Cynder from the Spyro games, so they had the horns and wings and everything, except they were in prom dresses as well, and I've been wanting to do one like that as Spyro, except in a more casual dress, or, like, as a girl from the 90s, since that's when the Spyro games first came out

The account that I pulled this image from is Breanne Messner, but I don't know if that's one of the people in the photo

I have more Halloween decorations than places to put them, so I would bust out all my decorations and then buy more, so long as the castle has room! I have big light-up spiders with bendy legs, a tinsel spider who I call "Disco Spider" and she hangs from the ceiling, a big haunted house candle holder, a metal bucket candle holder with a cat's face cut out of the side, a ceramic jack-o-lantern candle holder, a string of small paper lanterns with jack-o-lantern faces on them, a sign that sticks into the ground that says "Trick or Treat" with a purple owl on it, a trick-or-treating basket shaped like a cat's head with glow-in-the-dark eyes that I keep on the table and it always has candy for everyone to take, string lights of spiders and their webs dangling, a bunting that's actually a bunch of bloody murder weapons... and there's probably more that I'm forgetting. I could carve a bunch of pumpkins and set them around the whole place -- I don't typically do this because we live in a very small town in the middle of nowhere and don't feel like attracting trick-or-treaters with outdoor decorations because we wouldn't get many, if at all.

Don't worry! This is an electric candle so I'm not heating up the shelf above the candle holder

The closest I've ever come to having a themed Halloween party where the theme wasn't just "Halloween" was in 2015 when I hosted Halloween high tea. (One of the guests tried to correct me and tell me it wasn't high tea, as if I hadn't just been to an English tea room a few months prior where my England Mum called it high tea.) If I'm remembering correctly, I had whipped out the owl-shaped teapot my England family gifted to me. I made cupcakes that looked like zombie heads with the brains exposed, little cucumber sandwiches like what I had in England at the tea room, and I think scones or American-style biscuits? (There is a difference between scones and American biscuits and I will die on this hill)

My England Mum bought this behind my back at the same time I was buying her rabbit socks behind her back

If there was a theme at the castle party, it might be zombies? Just because one of my favourite shows is about zombieism as a chronic illness and one of my favourite video games is about mushroom zombies. If I went with this theme, then I would skip on the Spyro costume and go with being a zombie, though I would have to decide if I wanted to have partially deceased syndrome (an excuse to break out the white contacts) or cordyceps brain infection (a chance to learn some new makeup skills).

Me in cosplay as Kieren Walker

At the castle party, I would probably be setting up the TV for people to watch a show like In The Flesh or Courage the Cowardly Dog, watch a movie like Halloweentown (I don't have a video link for Halloweentown specifically but I do have one for DCOMs in general) or Silent Hill, or to play a video game from my collection like Resident Evil 4: Wii Edition or Silent Hill 4: The Room -- since it's a big castle, there's probably enough space for three TVs and we could have a TV room, a movie room, and a video game room. I would probably have a device somewhere with music playing, some Halloweeny songs such as Sally's Song by Amy Lee (or the original version by Catherine O'Hara) or Howl by Florence + The Machine and some year-round bops such as Planetary (GO!) by My Chemical Romance or Celebrity Status by Marianas Trench. (These examples are based on what my friends and I would listen to at parties in high school.) Sometimes at parties, I organise non-video games, like the time I had a Doctor Who-themed birthday party so we played Doctor Who Risk in the basement, or the time I helped host a Halloween party near a big park with a bunch of trees so we played "live-action Slender" as we called it (a game of tag where one person is "it" and the other players have to collect as many pages as possible before being eliminated by the one who's "it" or before the timer goes off).

A sampling of some games I have that might be appropriate for Halloween -- yes, these are all single-player, but it's sometimes just as fun to watch your friend play a game as it is to play it yourself

A few years ago, I discovered how much I like making nerdy/themed cocktails, so I would probably also be making Halloween drinks for anyone who wants them. Not sure what Halloween or horror cocktail recipes I have (aside from Camp Crystal Lake, which is gross because the Rumchata curdles when it mixes with the other ingredients) but we can probably come up with something! Perhaps boozy hot chocolates or some kind of drink with raspberry Sourpuss. Of course, I would have non-alcoholic drinks, too! Maybe I'll put on coffee and offer my pumpkin spice creamer, have some non-boozy hot chocolates available, and/or make something with grenadine.

The cocktail I got at the Halloween drag show on Friday along with my last five for tipping the artists

For food, I would probably offer pizza, cupcakes, candy, pie, and more!

A picture I recently took for Instagram of my turkey Ulana getting herself a slice of pumpkin pie

And of course, I would send everyone home with a goody bag or goody box! One of the parties I hosted in high school had goody boxes shaped like haunted houses and contained such things as bouncy balls that look like eyes and jelly beans in the Halloween colours

No picture to go with this one 🤷‍♀️ I was gonna put the goody boxes I made my best friends this year, but they both follow me here and I don't want to spoil it for them 🤫

[redheadgleek]

Books read October-December

My goal was to read 120 books this year. I just finished number 129. (Some of these I reviewed as part of my WWW posts).

October:

Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt. I had high expectations for this book, as it had been so praised, and I felt let down by it. Still enjoyable, but needed more octopus. Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe. Read as part of Banned Books week. The Romance Rx by Kathryn Riya. I wanted more medicine and medicine-related residency drama. Unraveling: What I Learned about Life While Shearing Sheep, Dyeing Wool, and Making the World’s Ugliest Sweater by Peggy Orenstein. Just a really lovely memoir about life changing and feeling present in the world. The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic by Breanne Randall. Such a disappointing book. Deerskin by Robin Mckinley. Reread. Not my favorite book of hers, but it’s still a great retelling.

November:

Kaikeyi by Vaishnavi Patel. A retelling of an old Hindu religious myth, a story I was only passingly familiar with. I enjoyed the world building, I had trouble with some of the motivations of the characters. And I think it’s hard to write a retelling of a story that a major religion is based on. Piranesi by Susanna Clarke. This is such a wonderful book, with the mystery and characters slowly being revealed. The Halcyon Fairy Book by T. Kingfisher. Just witty retellings of fairy tales with a lot of humor and grim. The Anthropocene Reviewed: Essays on a Human-Centered Planet by John Green. I really loved this collection of essays on our world. Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer. Audiobook. A beautiful exploration of our connection with the world and how we can heal that relationship. The Bookish Life of Nina Hill by Abby Waxman. Library find. Cute light book, (although if I had a boss who didn’t pay the rent for 6 months straight and I was threatened with losing my job because of it, I wouldn’t be all “oh she’s just that way”) but one that I probably won’t remember in a year or two. The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher. The atmosphere in this book is almost its own character. I loved the secondary characters, but the middle sagged a lot. Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros. I struggled so much with the beginning, because the set up was so ridiculous. It picked up after that and ended strongly. I don’t know how she’s going to write a 5 book series though. The Magical Language of Others by E.J. Koh. NPR did a write up on her debut novel, but it wasn’t available at the library. It was a quick read but I found the writing to be confusing in places and lacking in emotional growth. Check & Mate by Ali Hazelwood. Charming, nerdy, engaging. Just a fun new adult book. Sweet Like Jasmine: Finding Identity in a Culture of Loneliness by Bonnie Gray. This book was not for me. Ugh. The Ladies of Grace Adieu, and Other Stories by Susanna Clarke. Audiobook. Just a lot of fun going back into the world of Jonathan Strange. I really want her to write a prequel with The Raven King. Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir. I loved Rocky and the ending. Part of Your World by Abby Jimenez. Still on the lookout for the perfect doctor romance. This one was enjoyable and mostly accurate.

December:

Mister Magic by Kiersten White. Payback’s a Witch by Lana Harper. Gwen and Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher. Paladin’s Grace, Paladin’s Strength, Paladin’s Hope by T. Kingfisher. Reread these in anticipation of the release of her latest Saints of Steel’s book. Just excellent world building and romance and humor. Know My Name by Chanel Miller. Book club book. Harrowing memoir, but what I really appreciated was the description of how the justice system is so awful for victims. Paladin’s Faith by T. Kingfisher. I cannot wait for the other 3 books. Yours Truly by Abby Jimenez, the sequel to Part of Your World. I liked this one better and it was almost the doctor romance that I’ve been craving. The School for Good Mothers by Jessamine Chan. I’d read it if you like dystopian novels, but I’m still grousing about how the villains were single, childless women. A Restless Truth by Freya Marske. Reread. I liked it better than the first time, maybe because I skipped over a lot of the romance (it’s a trope that I just don’t like). Carry on by Rainbow Rowell. Reread, audiobook. The audiobook was a lot of fun and I’ve forgotten a lot of details in the last 5+ years. A Power Unbound by Freya Marske. A satisfying conclusion to the trilogy, but the first book was definitely the best of them all. Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree. The prequel to Legends & Lattes, which I adored last year, and I think I liked this one even better.

[vnvyb]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Alice + Olivia NWT Black White Breann Long Fitted Houndstooth Blazer Size 8.

[beardedmrbean]

Dive teams are gathering Friday at Lake Wampanoag in Gardner as the search for a man wanted in connection with the murder of his wife enters its sixth day, officials said.

The Massachusetts State Police Dive Team and Marine Unit, along with Massachusetts Environmental Police, plan to scour the lake for evidence, which is located near Camp Collier where 33-year-old Aaron Pennington’s white 2013 BMW Model 320 was found in a wooded area by a hunter on Monday night.

“There is no specific information suggesting Pennington is in the lake but we continue to investigate all possibilities,” state police said in a statement.

A murder warrant was issued earlier this week charging Pennington in the shooting death of 30-year-old Breanne Pennington on Sunday, Oct. 22.

Officers were called to the couple’s home on Cherry Street in Gardner around 9 a.m. on that Sunday after their four children, ages 2, 5, 7, and 9, left the house and told a neighbor that “they could not find their father and that their mother was in her bedroom crying,” the warrant indicated.

Detectives said Breanne was found lying in bed in an upstairs bedroom “with obvious signs of death from an apparent gunshot wound to the head.”

Through interviews and video surveillance, investigators learned that the couple “had been dealing with marital issues for quite some time.”

Murder warrant issued for Gardner man wanted for the shooting death of his wife

Since the discovery of Pennington’s BMW, members of the State Police Special Response Team, the State Police Tactical Operations Response Team, the Violent Fugitives Apprehension Section, state police K9 units, and Gardner and Ashburnham police have been searching a vast, 400-acre tract of woods to try to locate him and have asked hunters to check trail cameras.

Pennington should be considered armed and dangerous, and the public should not approach him or try to search for him but rather call 911 immediately.

Authorities described Pennington as a white male with blonde hair, and blue eyes, standing 6 feet, 2 inches tall, and weighing approximately 175 pounds.

Anyone with information is urged to contact Gardner police or state police.

[rg060295]

October pile of possibilities:

I am not a monthly TBR person as much anymore, I mostly just read where the mood and vibe takes me. HOWEVER October is different. There are so many books I want to read in the spookiest of months! From my library: I Feed Her To The Beast and The Beast is Me by Jamison Shea House of Salt and Sorrow by Erin A. Craig The Ghost Bride by Yangsze Choo The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling New releases and pre orders: Out There Screaming edited by Jordan Peele The Book of Witches edited by Jonathan Strahan The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic by Breanne Randall The Husky and His White Cat Shizun Vol. 3 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (Meatbun) In my scribd saved: Bring Me Your Midnight by Rachel Griffin Rules for Vanishing by Kate Alice Marshall Horrid by Katrina Leno This Thing Between Us by Gus Moreno Linghun by Ai Jiang The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw The Route of Ice and Salt by José Luis Zárate Lakewood by Megan Giddings

Misc. Shiver by Junji Ito Garlic and the Vampire by Bree Paulsen Just Like Home by Sarah Gailey Certain Dark Things by Silvia Moreno-Garcia Vampires of El Norte by Isabel Cañas A Dowry of Blood by S.T. Gibson

I think that makes 23 books here, I have been reading very slowly lately, so I doubt I will even get half of these. Making this list of possibilities does give me some sort of direction for the month, because other wise I will probably spend days things what should I read, then feeling disappointed I didn't get to read books during the season. If you have any books you think I should prioritise or not even pick up let me know!

[regencyhomeremodeling1]

Master Bath Remodel Buffalo Grove

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Master Bath Remodel Buffalo Grove, IL

December 15, 2022 /in Bathroom Remodels , Buffalo Grove, IL , /by Bruce Pinsler

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Project Overview

The Subject Property

Master Bath Remodel Buffalo Grove

By choosing Regency Home Remodeling to rework their master bathroom, these Buffalo Grove homeowners knew they would be getting not only top professional installers, but also the finest in materials, including the best in tile from Daltile and high-end fixtures and accessories from Studio 41. The combination resulted in a master bath truly worthy of the name.

Regency’s workers created a dream haven, installing Daltile’s 6” x 48” Imagica Haze tile for the main floor and pairing that with matching 12” x 24” tile for the shower and tub walls. The shower floor and niche back now blend with a subtly modern Wisdom White Vintage Hex tile, while a clever line of Triangle Mosaic Forte Grey accent tile draws the eye across the shower walls. The new Regency White shaker cabinets are topped with Armor Grey quartz, which visually extends to the shower threshold and bench. Next, Studio 41 stepped in, supplying a Hydro Systems Breanne Studio Collection freestanding tub for soaking pleasure. But the magic really happens with the new Kohler Anthem thermostatic control panel for the shower, along with a Mr. Steam Air Butler shower steam system. Kohler matte black plumbing fixtures finish the look of a bathroom that is now a spa, ready for the family to enjoy for years to come.

Spa-like elegance is within your reach, too. Simply talk with Regency Home Remodeling and see how they can transform your bath into a private haven—and they can do it within your budget and in a surprisingly short timeframe. Give them a call to start your road to bathroom nirvana.

Need a Bathroom Remodel? If you want to remodel your bathroom in Buffalo Grove, and want to know how these homeowners saved on their finishes with our Factory-direct program, then contact us at 1 (773) 930-4465.

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from Regency Home Remodeling https://regencyhomeremodeling.com/bathrooms/master-bath-remodel-buffalo-grove/

[jilkos]

Model  @jordanblake10 Photography  breannwhite 

[breannbooks]

Here’s a dump of all the special edition books I’ve gotten since I last remembered this account existed. Enjoy.

[femsolid]

On 23 May 2014, 22-year-old Elliot Rodger drove to the Alpha Phi sorority house, near the campus of University of California, Santa Barbara, and knocked on the door. When nobody answered, he started shooting at female students nearby. Rodger shot three sorority sisters, killing two of them (Katherine Breann Cooper , twenty-two, and Veronika Elizabeth Weiss, nineteen) and wounding the third. It was part of a longer killing spree that saw Rodger both shoot victims and deliberately drive into them, killing six people in total and injuring fourteen.

In his manifesto, it is clear that he had been heavily influenced by some of the most common arguments on major incel websites. He wrote: The ultimate evil behind sexuality is the human female. They are the main instigators of sex. They control which men get it and which men don’t. Women are flawed creatures, and my mistreatment at their hands has made me realize this sad truth. There is something very twisted and wrong with the way their brains are wired. They think like beasts, and in truth they are beasts.

On 4 August 2009, 48-year-old systems analyst George Sodini entered a women’s aerobics class at the LA Fitness centre in Collier Township, Pennsylvania. He turned off the lights, took out two guns and began firing bullets, killing three women and injuring nine others.

After the event, it emerged that Sodini had been a member of the pickup artist community, a group directly related to incels and part of the manosphere. His  blog revealed a deep misogyny, even as he lamented the fact that he had not had a girlfriend since 1984 or had sex since 1990. Like Rodger, Sodini fixated on young, attractive women who chose to sleep with other men over him, including ‘young white hoez’ who were attracted to black men. With twisted logic, typical of manosphere communities, he extrapolated from the number of years he had been single and his own ‘rough guesstimate of how many desirable single women there are’ to reach the bizarre and exaggerated conclusion: ‘30 million women rejected me’.

Less than a month after Rodger’s massacre, British teenager Ben Moynihan began a month-long stabbing spree that saw him attempt to murder three different women in Portsmouth on three separate occasions over June and July 2014. After he was found guilty, a diary Moynihan had written emerged in which he said: ‘I was planning to murder mainly women as an act of revenge because of the life they gave me, I’m still a virgin… I attack women because I grew up to believe them as a more weaker part of the human breed.’ Precisely demonstrating the contradictions of incel ideology, Moynihan wrote: ‘I think every girl is a type of slut, they are fussy with men nowadays, they do not give boys like us a chance.’ During the period of the attacks, Moynihan also sent the police a letter that said: ‘All women needs to die and hopefully next time I can gouge their eyeballs out.’ However, almost no British media reports seemed to make any connection between Moynihan and Rodger, though the cases occurred just weeks apart.

On 1 October 2015, 26-year-old student Chris Harper-Mercer entered a classroom at Umpqua Community College and forced students to the centre of the classroom, before shooting eight people dead, including himself. A ninth victim later died in hospital, and eight other students were injured. Harper-Mercer left  behind a manifesto in which he bemoaned the fact that he was a virgin with no girlfriend. He also named Elliot Rodger as somebody he considered to be ‘elite’ and to ‘stand with the gods’, adding: “It is my hope that others will hear my call and act it out. I was once like you, a loser, rejected by society. When the girls would rather go with alpha thug black men, we can all agree that somethings wrong with the world. When good individuals like myself are alone, but wicked black men get the loot, like some sort of vaginal pirate, it’s not fair.” He left  the warning: ‘And just like me, there will be others… we are your sons, your brothers, we are everywhere.’ Unnamed law enforcement officials told USA Today that HarperMercer ‘appeared to be involved in a loosely affiliated online community known as the “beta boys” ’, a name that closely reflects incel terminology about ‘beta males’ and ‘beta uprising’, used to describe the incel fantasy of a violent massacre of “ normies”. 

It emerged that, the day before Harper-Mercer’s shooting, an anonymous forum user had detailed plans of the attack online, writing: ‘Some of you guys are alright. Don’t go to school tomorrow if you are in the northwest.’ The responses from other community members are chilling. One user suggested that the original poster ‘might want to target a girls school’, and gave advice on the best weapons to use. Another offered tactical advice, including: ‘I suggest you carry a knife on your belt as last resort.’ One response simply read: ‘Make us proud.’ Another added: ‘Kill them all for us.’ Whether or not the account actually belonged to Harper-Mercer, protestations that not all of the incel community should be tarred with the same brush are hard to accept, given the way in which its members respond to somebody claiming he is about to commit such an act. Had any one of those who participated in the thread reported the threat to law enforcement, it is possible that eight lives might have been saved. 

On July 31, 2016 security guard Sheldon Bentley killed a homeless man he encountered sleeping in an alley in central Edmonton, Canada, by stamping on his stomach. In a pre-sentence report, Bentley tried to argue that his actions stemmed, in part, from his frustration and stress, caused by four years of ‘involuntary celibacy’. “He was frustrated with his lot in life, he was angry at the world,” said Justice Paul Belzil, before sentencing Sheldon Bentley, 38, to four years in prison for manslaughter.

After Bentley blamed his brutal murder of a homeless man on involuntary celibacy, forum users discussed the case with feverish excitement. Comments included: ‘Can you feel it boys? ITS TIME’; ‘It’s time to go E(lliot)R(odger) on them’; ‘Why couldn’t he have done it to a foid’ (female humanoid); ‘He should have done it to a woman instead’; ‘Am I wrong for feeling excited about this?’; ‘TIME FOR THE BETA MALE REVOLUTION GO ER’.

On 7 December 2017, 21-year-old gas station worker William Atchison disguised himself as a student and entered Aztec High School in New Mexico. Taking out a handgun, he shot two students dead before killing himself. The Daily Beast reported that Atchison had an extensive online presence, using Rodger’s name in one of his online monikers. According to a report by the Southern Poverty Law Center, Atchison also praised Rodger, ‘the supreme gentleman’, in his online postings.

On 14 February 2018, 19-year-old former student Nikolas Cruz opened fire at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, killing seventeen people and injuring seventeen more. The massacre would spark a huge student movement against mass shootings and gun violence. On a YouTube video about Rodger’s manifesto, Cruz had commented: ‘Elliot Rodger will not be forgotten.’ It would later emerge that Cruz had reportedly stalked a young woman at the school. He was also said to have repeatedly threatened and harassed an ex-girlfriend aer she broke up with him.

When media reports circulated in the aftermath of the shooting that suggested Cruz may have been stalking a girl who had rejected him, members of the Incelocalypse message board discussed the case. ‘The bitch deserved it I’m glad he killed them,’ wrote one user. Another agreed: ‘Good. Dumb sluts either deserve to be raped for rejecting men or outright killed.’ In perhaps the starkest example I have seen of dehumanising misogyny in all my months of research on these forums, one user wrote: ‘I just wish this poor guy had raped the girl before killing, that way she would die knowing that the boy she rejected had still been inside of her body.’

On 23 April 2018, 25-year-old soware developer Alek Minassian drove a speeding rental van through the North York City Centre district of Toronto, Canada, deliberately targeting pedestrians. He killed ten people and injured sixteen. A post was uploaded to a Facebook account, later confirmed as Minassian’s, shortly before the attack. It read: ‘Private (Recruit) Minassian Infantry 00010, wishing to speak to Sgt 4chan please. C23249161. The Incel Rebellion has already begun! We will overthrow all the Chads and Stacys! All hail the Supreme Gentleman Elliot Rodger!’ The majority of Minassian’s victims were female, with eight women and two men killed in the attack. Police later released a video of Minassian’s post-arrest interview in which he focused specifically on being an incel, saying he had been radicalised online and had acted in the name of the ideology as a form of retribution. Minassian gave details about women romantically rejecting him, saying ‘I consider myself a supreme gentleman’ (another reference to Rodger) and ‘I was angry that they would give their love and affection to obnoxious brutes.’ He added: ‘I know of several other guys over the internet who feel the same way.’ Like Rodger, Minassian described his attack as ‘the day of retribution’. When police asked how he felt about the deaths of the ten people he had murdered, Minassian replied: ‘I feel like I accomplished my mission.’

Many members of incel communities were quick to celebrate and embrace Minassian, too, as a new hero, saying he had attained ‘incel sainthood’. ‘I will have one celebratory beer for every victim that turns out to be a young woman between 18-35,’ posted one. ‘Alek Minassian. Spread that name, speak of his sacrifice for our cause, worship him for he gave his life for our future,’ added another. 

On 2 November 2018, 40-year-old Scott Beierle entered a studio at Tallahassee Hot Yoga in Florida, and shot six women, killing two, before killing himself. In the aftermath of the shooting, BuzzFeed uncovered Beierle’s YouTube channel, which was filled with misogynistic and racist bile, including videos in which he described women as ‘sluts’ and ‘whores’, and discussed the ‘collective treachery’ of girls. Like many incels, he railed against women in interracial relationships for betraying ‘the blood’. One video, titled ‘The Rebirth of my Misogynism’, said, of a girl who had cancelled a date with him, ‘I could have ripped her head off.’ In another video, called ‘Plight of the Adolescent Male’, Beierle referenced Rodger, claiming that being in ‘the situation… of Elliot Rodger, of not getting any, no love, no nothing’, was an ‘endless wasteland that breeds this longing and this frustration’.

In 2019, 27-year-old Christopher Cleary, of Denver, Colorado, was arrested in Utah on the same day that several women’s marches were planned in the area. On his Facebook page Cleary wrote: I’m 27 years old and I’ve never had a girlfriend before and I’m still a virgin, this is why I’m planning on shooting up a public place soon and being the next mass shooter cause I’m ready to die and all the girls the turned me down is going to make it right by killing as many girls as I see.

On 17 June 2019, a man wearing tactical gear, carrying a rifle and multiple magazines, was fatally shot by police in Dallas, Texas, before he could carry out what appeared to be a premeditated shooting. The gunman, identified as Brian Isaack Clyde, aged twenty-two, had shot at the door of a courthouse before police engaged him. Clyde’s Facebook page apparently warned of an upcoming attack, and was littered with incel references and memes.

On 24 February 2020, a 17-year-old boy took a machete into a massage parlour in Toronto and used it to murder 24-year-old Ashley Noell Arzaga, as well as stabbing another woman. Police discovered evidence that the suspect, who could not be named due to his age, had acted after being inspired by the incel community. Detectives were so convinced that incel hatred of women was the main motivator behind the murder that they upgraded the original charge of first-degree murder to also bring terrorism charges against the suspect. Shockingly, this is the only known example of an incel attack being treated by authorities as a terrorist offence.

When news emerges of Arzaga’s murder, I saw incel forum members describing it as ‘good news’, suggesting that ‘nothing of value was lost’ and speculating that ‘she may be a Stacy since she works in a spa’. Referring to her killer, one community member writes: ‘And may he find peace with a gun in his right hand and a sword in the le and at his feet the countless unworthy whores he calls prey.’

In June 2020, 23-year-old Cole Carini attended a Virginia medical centre with severe injuries, including an amputated hand and shrapnel wounds, which he claimed were the result of a lawnmower accident. But authorities found bomb-making equipment and blood spatter inside Carini’s home, suggesting he had injured himself with a homemade explosive device. A handwritten note at his property read: He casually walked through the shopping mall, his jacket concealed deadly objects… He was doing it and was assured it must be done… Even if he died this statement was worth it!… He now approached the stage of hot cheerleaders … He decided I will not back down I will not be afraid of the consequences no matter what I will be heroic I will make a statement like Elliot Rodgers did he thought to himself. 

These men were not the first to carry out (or attempt) massacres based on an explicitly misogynistic ideology (and they are far from alone in personifying the link between abuse towards women and mass killing). But the murderers on this list – who, between them, killed a total of fifty-one people and injured sixty-nine – all had some direct connection to the online communities of men who hate women. This evidence firmly refutes the idea that we need pay no attention to incels. This is a radical, extremist movement, at least tens of thousands of members strong, that deliberately spreads a doctrine of hate-fuelled misogyny and male supremacy, and actively advocates for the violent rape and murder of women. It sucks in young men looking for answers about relationships, indoctrinates recruits with dogmatic ideology and an entire self-spawned lexicon, and exonerates and lionises those who kill in its name. Most pertinently of all, it has produced a significant number of mass murderers who have committed what ought rightly to be described as terrorist acts in its name. That so few people have ever even heard of it is, frankly, outrageous.

We are, after all, quick to recognise and take action against the threat of other forms of online radicalisation, like that used by Islamic extremists to lure young converts into acts of violence in the name of a twisted and prejudiced set of beliefs. Part of the problem is that this is about women. And we don’t even take violence against women seriously offline, let alone on the internet, where it is so easily written off as banter, jokes and satire. When online radicalisation results in a Muslim attacker driving into white pedestrians, media reports and political commentators immediately alert us to the connection, the word ‘terrorism’ quickly filling the front pages, and the ideology and online footprint of the killer highlighted for all to see. The same is not the case when men kill in the explicit name of misogyny. Even people who are aware of these underreported attacks rarely know about the stated intent behind them. And, meanwhile, incel communities quietly grow, recruit and revel in their victories.

- Extract from Laura Bates’ book “Men who hate women”

[holidaywishes]

what’s next?

part eleven: what’s next

  Requested: 🙅‍♀️

  Summary: You and Brendan get married

  Warning: Finale Time! Wedding, fluff, some angst

  Author’s Note: I found the GIF on Google because it didn’t come up on Tumblr’s GIF search but I think the credit goes to @nhl-imagines-posts​ but if I’m wrong please let me know so I can give proper credit. I’m so grateful for those of you that have read this little series and I’m happy that those of you who enjoyed it have done so :D I decided to end this series at 11 because it’s Gally’s number, even though I truly hate uneven numbers, but also because I couldn’t see it really going anywhere other than this. I’m always happy to take your requests for Gally or anyone but be patient with me; sometimes, I forget I have anything saved and it’s like a month before I start a request. I hope you enjoy this finale! Stay Golden, loves! <3

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

   It took longer than you ever thought it would, to finally be getting ready to walk down the aisle to the man you had loved and lost and loved again. You put your dress on and looked in the mirror, taking in a sharp breath when you saw yourself for the first time

  “Whoa” you whispered

  “You look beautiful” Breanne said

  “Like a princess” Erin cooed and you laughed at the two girls who would soon be your sister-in-law’s

  “Thank you” you blushed before taking another breath

  “You’re getting married” Rebecca sang as she came up behind you, squeezing your shoulders

  “Did you ever think you’d get here?” you heard Della ask from the doorway, presumably having just come from seeing Brendan

  “No,” you scoffed, “but yes. He was always the one for me. I know we’ve given everyone here whiplash for... like ever but he’s always just been this, lighthouse to me. Something that tells me I’m safe and I’m home, you know?” You noticed your mom smile from where she sat on the couch before turning back to the mirror, “I wish we didn’t have to go through what we went through to get here but I’m so happy that we’re here and that I get to marry this wonderful man who I love so much.”

  “You found each other,” Della said after a pause before walking over to where you stood, “you love each other and the road to this day was meant to be. Sure, it was rocky but it was meant to be.” You smiled at her words, taking a deep breath before your mom came over to squeeze your shoulders

  “You are so beautiful,” she said, tearing up as she spoke, “inside and out. I am so proud of you, baby girl, and everything you are and the strong woman you’ve become”

  “We should probably get going,” Rebecca interrupted with a smile, “someone’s waiting for you downstairs.”

xx

Brendan’s P.O.V

  You were starting to panic. You stood in front of your family and friends as you waited for (Y/N) to walk down the aisle but, after almost 45 minutes, she still hadn’t shown up

  “Where is she?” you mumbled under your breath

  “Don’t worry,” Nolan replied and you realized, if he heard you, the rest of your groomsmen probably did as well, “she’s not gonna bail. She’s probably just too busy staring at herself”

  “Maybe you’re right” you smirked before taking another deep breath and trained your eyes back to the door. The soft music continued to play and you felt your palms getting sweaty as another 10 minutes passed, “maybe I should go check on her...” you said to Nolan before preparing to walk down the steps

  “Hold on,” he scoffed as he watched you get ready to dart, “just another minute or two and then you can freak out.” You sneered at his smirk when, suddenly, the door opened and the music started again; finally. Her bridesmaids walked in first, wide grins on their faces as they made their way to the altar to parallel your boys. The flower girl was next. Her white princess dress bouncing as she danced down the aisle, sprinkling daisies happily before finally reaching her parents in the pews. Then you finally saw her, noticing how the flower girl's dress nearly matched hers perfectly and you smirked to yourself. With every step she took, your heart began to beat more and more out of your chest, imagining the moment you'd finally be able to hold her hands in yours to become husband and wife. You watched as her father kissed her forehead and tearily gave her away

  “You look stunning” you whispered when she stepped in front of you, smiling before squeezing your hands

  “I'm sorry I'm late” she whispered back as the Priest began to address the vows

  “Is everything okay?” you asked quickly

  “Yeah,” she smiled, “we were just gushing about you”

  “Oh well then,” you smiled back, “you could've spent as much time as you wanted.” You both caught the stern glare from the Priest and stopped talking so he could continue. When it finally came time to say your vows, you held back tears but (Y/N) let them fall freely, laughing as you wiped them away as she spoke.

  “I now pronounce you,” the priest smiled, “husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” She squealed before placing her hands on your face and pulling you in so the two of you could share your first kiss as a married couple. You took her hand and raised it in a sort of victory pose before the two of you walked down the steps and out the big wooden doors at the end of the aisle.

  “We did it!” (Y/N) giggled when you cleared the room, “we’re married!”

  “We’re married” you sighed happily before kissing the backs of her hands.

xx

  You convinced Brendan to go to the closest fast food place because you were starving

  “There's gonna be food at the reception...” he questioned

  “You actually think we're gonna be able to eat?” you laughed and he shrugged in return

  “Okay, where do you want to go?” he asked

  “We have like half an hour, so let's go wherever is closest so we can just eat everything,” you chuckled, “then go to the reception and chat up all the guests and take pictures with everyone”

  “Alright,” he agreed, “let's go then.” You rushed out to the car, carrying the pile of fabric that was your dress close to your chest and watched Brendan tail close behind. You ordered a chicken wrap to start and some fries to share while Brendan ordered a double cheeseburger, practically engulfing it. “Soooo good!” He mumbled with his mouth still full of food

  “Ew, B,” you scoffed, turning your attention to your food, “that’s so gross. Don’t talk with your mouth full” he looked at you and you could already see the thought forming in his head

  “Oh I’m sorry,” he teased, moving closer and closer to you with his mouth practically bursting with food before he took another bite, “is this bothering you?”

  “Stop!” You squealed, pushing his chest from you, “oh my god! Stop!” he stopped, laughing once the food had cleared his mouth

  “You want anything more? You haven’t had much” he asked

  “Just a drink” you smiled and he was quick to jump up to grab you something. When you showed up at the reception, you were rushed to take pictures in almost every space you could and you could hear the guests begin to arrive. The rest of the night was filled with lights and laughter and singing and dancing until you couldn’t feel your feet anymore

  “How are you feeling?” Rebecca smirked when she saw you slump into a chair

  “My feet hurt” you whined

  “You’re married!” she cooed as she helped you stand back up, wrapping her arm around your waist so you didn’t fall

  “I know!” you exclaimed silently

  “Let’s get some champagne to celebrate!” You had a few more drinks than you intended and Brendan came up behind you

  “Someone ready to sneak out?” he whispered and you turned around quickly, falling into his chest

  “Yes!” you whispered back, “how should we do it?” he pointed to the back exit and cocked his eyebrow before tilting his head in the direction

  “Let’s get out of here” he smirked. You tried to be as quiet as possible, catching only a glance from your aunt at the bar who just raised her glass to you as you walked out the door.

xx

Brendan’s P.O.V

  You had told (Y/N) that it was probably a better idea to get a room at the hotel so you wouldn’t have to go far to ‘celebrate,’ and she agreed, but when you finally got up there, carrying her dress through the hallways, both of you just passed out.

  “How are you, wife?” you smirked

  “I’m sleepy,” she replied, “how are you, husband?”

  “I know, baby” you laughed

  “Help me get out of this dress” she said as she stood up and you happily obliged. When the dress fell to the ground, she quickly jumped under the covers and you followed suit.

  “So…” you started

  “Hmm?”

  “We’re married” you continued, a smile creeping across your face as she opened her eyes

  “Yes, we are”

  “So what’s next?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean... do we want 2 kids or more?”

  “Baby, I’m tired. We can’t do that tonight…” she laughed and you kissed her forehead

  “You do want kids though?” you asked almost insecurely which she took notice of

  “Of course I do,” she replied, her hand resting on your cheek as she continued to speak, “especially if they’re yours”

  “Alright,” you smiled once more before your question, “2 or more?”

  “Brendan!” she giggled, turning away from you

  “I mean I would have a whole hockey team with you,” you joked, “but I don’t even know where we’d put them all…”

  “2,” she said firmly, “no more, no less. Just two kids”

  “Perfect.”

[vnvyb]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Alice + Olivia NWT Black White Breann Long Fitted Houndstooth Blazer Size 8.

[leonardcohenofficial]

If you had to fight a single person in the entire Star Trek franchise, who would it be?

probably will riker just because he’s annoying tbh

[palais-du-porte-jarretelles]

Blue lace with black and white

(Breanne Benso)

[wroteasongabouther]

>> Darling <<      part 4 ➭ harry tequila always wins

fic page // talk to me about it!

warnings: smut, alcohol, cursing, and maybe some second-hand embarrassment

authors note: if you started reading this fic over a year ago and are here for by far the latest update ever thank you deserve a gold star. lets hope the next update wont take me so long. buckle up boys and girls, it’s a long one.. hope u like it xx

—

December 3rd, 2021

To be a great business woman meant you also needed to be a great sociallite.

Parties were being held nearly every weekend here in New York by the wealthy business men and woman. And with it becoming a younger crowd year by year, the parties got bigger and better. Tonight’s theme was a white out party. You suppose it worked out well as the first snowfall of the year hits the city the very same night.

It’s no surprise that your stylist outdid herself. You wore a bralette styled top, high waisted white pants, white heels, and of course a flare of your extra self with a white faux fur jacket. With your freshly highlighted hair blown out by the cold winter wind and a dark red lip, you knew you were the hottest one to walk into the party. The long stares from both men and woman told you so too.

Upon your arrival, you waste no time give your very expensive jacket to coat check before making your way to the bar. The alluring feel to be all wide eyed and enjoy these parties were long over for you. No, instead you needed nice buzz to actually make it through any of these events.

“You look amazing tonight,” a fellow business woman from Westbrook Atlantic grins as you approach an awaiting group.

“Thank you,” you smile, “crazy how it’s snowing today, right?”

The handful of people you had the attention of all nod and give you the usual fake-interested look you were getting used to now. But then suddenly their gaze all fall to the new addiction to the group. Looking to your left, you see you won’t be avoiding Harry tonight.

He had spotted you and made his choice of socializing tonight it seems. You roll your eyes as everyone asks Harry about his newest deal. Stupid deal may you say, he was going to lose a shit ton of money in the end result.

“You’ve made better choices,” you state with a tight smile before bringing your drink to your lips.

“Oh really?” He challenges you, raising a brow.

“Yeah, I met with Vanessa just last month actually. Sure she’s got the assets but does she really have the brain to carry out such a deal she proposed?” You say.

Harry catches onto your play of words immediately, the others around maybe not so much. While they have questions, Harry simply gives you the slightest glare. If he really expected you to be the same girl who shut up and agreed with him while around business talks, he was sadly mistaken.

You didn’t see the harm in poking some fun at him. This Vanessa girl probably dressed as she did when you had her come to your office too. You didn’t think her boobs could be pushed any higher and her butt screamed fake. Something you’re sure Harry liked about her proposal. It wouldn’t surprise you if he signed with her and then fucked her right afterwards. 

Anything to get his dick wet, you knew his damn ways.

“I’m not sure that’s a way for a woman in your position to be speaking of other woman in the business,” Harry says, his lips just twitching to curl up into his well known smirk. “Are you insinuating that Vanessa couldn’t hold up a good deal, because she’s a woman,” he’s playing one of his stupid games, and earning spectators around you two. 

“That’s not at all-”

“You’d think that you’d be jumping at the opportunity to help woman in this business, not to try and tear them down,” 

“I’d say the same thing if it was a lousy man giving me the same proposal that she did,” you state through gritted teeth. 

How could he start such a conversation? He knew damn well that the people around the two of you would start rumours off any little lie he made up. He also knew that you once scolded him for the very same thing. Back when you worked for him. You always knew a part of him didn’t think a woman could handle any serious CEO business - but you also proved him wrong each and every day.

“Quite the statements you’ve made tonight, miss,” Harry smirks, “I should go speak with Mr Griffen, please, excuse me.” 

And then he’s wondering off. Not before turning to look over his shoulder at you with that same devious smirk on his face. He knew what he had done, planned it rather quickly on the spot too. 

You didn’t get a chance to talk to Harry again the whole night. No, instead you were playing damage control to the mess that Harry started at the beginning of the night. Woman were coming up to you, bickering your ear off about how disrespectful you could be for saying a woman didn’t have the brains for this business. Then you’d have to repeat over and over again your apology for the misunderstanding Harry had of your words. And as you did this, Harry always stood a fair distance away that he could catch your gaze every few moments.

And now here you were at the end of what had to have been the least fun you’ve ever had at an event before.

You’re tipping your head back and feeling the burn of liquor drain down your throat. It was unlike you to do a ton of shots though, in fact you’ve only gotten truly wasted three whole times in your life. And that’s what you were planning on doing, getting so freaking wasted that you’d forget about the horror of a night tonight turned into. You think back on the other times you’ve gotten wasted in your short life time.

The first time was at the fresh age of 16, Peter McDonald had stole a bottle of some brown substance and brought it over to some party - letting you grip the neck of it for most of the night. Thing was, it was your first party you ever attended. You didn’t know when to put the bottle down.

Plus, Peter was just trying to get into your pants. 

Too bad you puked all over them before the night was over and ended up being yelled at by your parents for days on end over the whole ordeal.

The other 2 times were because of the very reason you knew you were downing your fifth shot in the past ten minutes. His green eyes taunting you from across the bar. Why hadn’t he left yet? You think as you glare at him. A shiver runs across your skin as another shot of tequila burns down your throat.

“Give me another, Darren,” you order the bartender the moment you shot glasses hits the bar top. 

Flashbacks to the first time you had legally gotten black out drunk came flooding back as the familiar middle aged bartender poured you another shot of tequila. 

  —

December 14th, 2018

“I need this,” you say. It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself as you stared at the reflection staring back at you.

“Babe, you like so need this,” your best friend, and roommate, Samantha states from where the bathroom she’s currently made a mess up while getting ready.

You really freaking needed this night out on the town with your girls. Breanne and Chelsea were meeting you two at the club, the three of them had this master plan of begging you to come but after the first month of working for Harry had passed by - you needed this. So you did yourself up, curling your hair and putting on maybe a bit too much highlighter. Samantha let you borrow her newest black lace bodysuit - clearly meant to be a piece of sexy lingerie.

You wondered if Harry liked lingerie.

Shaking your head slightly, you focus back on your reflection as you touch up your lipstick. Before sliding it into the front pocket of your leather material pants. On second thought, you take out the lipstick seeing as the pants were too tight for anything to really fit in the pockets. So you open your closet and find the small white purse you kept hidden away for nights like this.

“Okay, Bre and Chels are like hailing a cab down now so we should leave soon too in order to meet up in line together,” Samantha explains, eyes cast down on her phone before looking up. Her eyes go wide at the sight of you all dressed up. “Or maybe we can skip the line all together if you just like pout those pretty lips at security,” she smiles.

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes and walk to where your phone was charging to unplug it and slip it into your purse. “Should I wear the boots or the open toe heels?”

“Heels, you’re already going to be cold in that top so might as well freeze your perfect little toes too,”

“My toes aren’t perfect,”

“Oh yes they are,” Samantha huffs while sipping up her thigh high boots. She went for a mini skirt and crop top look tonight, obviously looking hot as hell. Didn’t take much effort from her though.

“Ok you perv,” you chuckle.

Samantha laughs along with you and within minutes you’re both downstairs making minimal effort in hailing down a cab. Of course Samantha makes another comment about how your “hotness” got them a cab right away on this busy Friday evening in New York. But it was New York, there was cabs everywhere you looked.

You’re flipping your hair out of your face while looking down the line at the club when someone from behind the ropes steps up to you. He’s wearing a navy suit with a white button up under - the top two buttons undone, a gold chain barely visible around his neck.

“Hey,” he says, a grin upon his face. And it’s a nice face. He must be Lebanese if you had to guess. Perfectly Styles black hair, with perfectly trimmed facial hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Hi,” you reply.

“How many are in your party, beautiful?” He slides the compliment in smoothly. You can’t help the blush that creeps to your cheeks. At this point you notice the ear piece and thin wire that is tucked nearly behind his ear before disappearing under his shirt.

“Four,” you answer with a smile.

“Perfect, I’d love to escort you in,”

“Okay,” you nod.

Samantha doesn’t waste any time grabbing onto Breanna and Chelsea and pulling them from the line, all three of them picking up their pace in order to cut in line with you. The gorgeous man smiles at you all before unhooking the rope and letting you through.

“Told you so,” Samantha is singing in your ear as you all stick close together in the buzzing club.

You quickly figure out the man that let you in is one of the managers of the establishment. He orders a round of tequila shots, then a few drinks too. At first he’s friendly to the four of you, but then he’s turned his back to your friends and is asking you questions.

“So what do you do for work?” He asks. It’s a regular old question, but one that causes your stomach to turn and heart to pick up its pace.

“Um, I’m an assistant for a pretty big businessman I guess,” you answer with a shrug before bringing your drink to your lips and taking a generous sip.

“Oh nice,” he smiles, “do you like it?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you stumble on your answer, eyes drifting over his shoulder to where your three friends were now taking shots with some other girls.

“Suppose work isn’t a great talking subject for you, huh?” The man teases. “Did you want another shot?”

You nod, giving him a tight smile before he waves over the bartender again. Just as your tipping your head back, the manager seems to be called away as he presses a few fingers to his left ear in order to hear what’s being said into the earpiece in his right ear. Next thing you know he’s telling the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, brushing back your hair off your shoulder gently to whisper into your ear.

“Enjoy your night off, hopefully you’ll stick around long enough for me to escort you out,” he says, leaning back to give you a wink before he’s slipping away from you at the bar and into the crowd.

“Did you get his number?” Breanna asks as the three of your friends walk up to you.

“No,” you shrug and slowly let the corner of your lips curl upwards, “but I got our drinks covered for the night,”

“Oh my god!” Chelsea shouts, her mouth wide open in shock.

“That’s it, you’re coming out with us all the time now, you hot bitch,” Breanna exclaims before pushing her chest into the bar, her breasts nearly spilling right out of the top she’s wearing, as she waves down a bartender. “We’ll get eight tequila shots, please,” she shouts out with a grin.

“Oh, we’re so getting wasted tonight,” Chelsea smiles, pulling up her phone to take a video of the bartender pouring the shots - of course turning the camera to you after, causing you to giggle and hide your face.

“You need this, Y/N,” Samantha repeats her words from earlier in the night, “you’ve been working like a damn dog, now let’s let loose and enjoy this night,”

After downing the two tequila shots each, Chelsea is leading the way to the dance floor. The thumping of the bass, with the crazy light show and within seconds you can feel all those shots you just took. You’re jumping up and down, grabbing onto Samantha’s shoulder to shout out the lyrics of the song playing around you. And for almost two hours, you never once think of Harry.

That is until you’re sitting alone in a booth, pulling your phone out for the first time tonight to see a ton of messages from your boss - and your potential booty call? No, you tell yourself as you read the texts.

Harry: I need you to change my schedule for next weekend, clear all meetings. I will still take phone calls.

Harry: I also need my dry cleaning picked up before noon tomorrow.

Harry: Coffee and breakfast by 7.

Harry: And don’t wear any underwear.

Harry: Hello?

Harry: Y/N look at your damn phone.

Harry: Call me right when you get these messages.

You sigh before typing away at your screen.

Y/N: I don’t think I’m fit to call you at this moment, Mr Styles..

Harry: What do you mean by that? And why are ignoring my texts?

Y/N: I mean that I am currently unable to talk on the phone. Not in the best state of mind for a quick chat with my boss.

Harry: What the hell do you mean?

Harry: Are you drunk?

You rolls your eyes at your screen. Before you can even type out your response, Harry has sent another message.

Harry: Where are you?

Y/N: it’s none of your business actually

Harry: Actually it is completely my business, if you value your damn job I suggest you tell me what the hell you think you’re doing.

Y/N: I’m just living my life Harry. Let me live.

And with that, you slide your phone back into your purse. Your hearts racing as you stare across the booth. A hiccup passes your lips. Then all of a sudden you don’t feel so good. Slipping out from the booth you push your way past the people in VIP to get to the bathrooms. Once the door of the stall is shut behind you, you’re leaning over the toilet and taking deep breathes. Nothing comes up, thank god, but it was a close call.

Maybe that feeling in your stomach wasn’t the threat of tequila coming back up. Maybe it was because you just told off your freaking boss.

You groan and lean your head back against the cool metal of the stall. Tequila made you do some dumb shit.

You don’t remember how long you stood in the stall before someone knocking and asking if you’re alright. Then you’re back in the VIP section and unable to find any of your friends. Pulling out your cell phone, you go to unlock it and call up Samantha but instead you’re bombarded by incoming calls from Mr Harry Styles.

“And somehow you look just as stunning with a frown on your face,” you turn at the voice of the bar manager. “What’s got you frowning?” He asks, stepping up in front of you now.

“I-I don’t know where my friends are and my stupid boss is bugging me,” you explain, not even realizing that you’re pouting afterwards.

“I could check the cameras for your friends, if you wanted to come to the back with me?” He’s peering at you through his lashes. Something that maybe a couple hours ago you’d find sexy, and maybe you would go to the back with him for a quick fuck. But now all you could picture was Harry’s stupid green eyes and stupid stupid face.

“I think I’m going to go home,” and with that statement you turn on your heels to head out of this place. Only you seem to have forgotten in your foggy drunken state just how unstable you are, falling forward straight onto the floor.

“Shit,” the manager cursed as he kneels down beside you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you grumble while brushing your hands on your thighs, leaning back on your feet as you sat on the dirty bar floor. Suppose these pants were trash now, you think while looking at the scuffed material at your knees.

“Here, let me help you find a cab,”

“I need another shot,” you order while taking his hands and getting back to your feet.

“I think you’ve had enough-“

“No,” you snap, “I need another damn shot now,”

“Okay,” he nods and leads you to the bar instead.

Maybe it’s the powerful tone you used. Or maybe it’s cause he still wants to fuck you. But the bar manager nods and leads you to the bar once again. One shot turns into two as you try to blur out the thoughts of Harry. God where did Samantha go? You think while glancing around the club.

“I’ve got to go back to work,” the bar manager tries again. You sigh and close your eyes, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as your elbow rests on the sticky bar top. “Keep an eye on her,” he says to the bartender.

It doesn’t take long before another guy is slide up next to you. He’s cute, got that typical ‘I’ll fuck you then never talk to you again’ hair cut that’s shaved at the sides and long at the top. Clean shaved and sporting a coy smile.

“Dance with me,” he say.

You’re about to grab ahold of his hand and let him lead the way when you suddenly recognize Breanna and Chelsea walking towards you. A grin spreads across your face at the sight of your friends.

“Hey!” You shout while wrapping them both in for a hug.

The fuckboy seems to get the clue you’ve lost interest in him and walks off without you. It’s probably for the best, you’d look like an outright fool trying to dance all sexy out there. Tequila made for some sloppy dancing from you.

“We’re about to head out,” Breanna states, rubbing your back which brings a soft smile from you.

“Have you seen Samantha?” You ask.

“Not since she started making out with that guy back on the dance floor,” Breanna says.

“Pretty sure she left with him,” Chelsea adds.

“Nice,” you smirk and lean your head on Breanna’s shoulder. “Well, I for one had a ton of fun with you girls tonight,” you’re shouting out the words with maybe a bit too much excitement. Breanna and Chelsea laugh, hugging you once more before asking if you were ok by yourself.

You had hope a certain gorgeous bar manager would be making his way back to the VIP section.

After your friends have left, you’re walking back to the bar and leaning over it slightly as you go on your tip toes in order to get the bartenders attention. He’s watching you in between pouring a few shots for some other customers. Then as your pushing your cleavage together he’s resting both hands on either side of where you were leaning towards him, head tilting up with a smirk.

“You’re trouble,” he states, voice much lower than you expected. He’s hot. Like slightly older guy kinda hot. He’s got a nice moustache, a few lines around his grey eyes. Hell, he’s like really hot for his age - you think while biting down on your bottom lip.

“Maybe,” you counter back. “I’d like another shot of tequila, please,” you order with a smile while slowly leaning back from the bar.

The bartender doesn’t move at first, instead his eyes are drinking you in. Suppose this bodysuit - or lingerie or whatever - was really working for you. Then all of a sudden his grey eyes flicker over your shoulder. He stiffen immediately, then stands up straight and tall. What in the world-

“Actually she won’t be having any more tequila,” you could recognize that voice anywhere. Harry was here. Like right here, stepping up beside you in the same suit he was wearing earlier today. The same suit you had your hands wrapped around as he fucked you in the janitors closet. “Seems you’ve given her enough tonight Darren,” Harry adds with a dark look to the bartender.

“Um, no,” you pipe up, leaning back over the bar quickly to grasp the bartender - Darren’s attention. “Tequila, now,” you demand this time.

Darren looks from you, back to Harry, then back to you again to give you a small smile. And then he’s walking away. What the hell, you think.

“What are you doing here?” You question, turning a bit too quickly to face Harry as you sway a little bit. Harry reacts by grabbing your arm to settle your drunken movements. You shrug from his grasp right away. Seems Harry doesn’t like it, eyes narrowing in at you before his hand is back by his side.

“I’m here to take you home, think you’ve had enough fun tonight,” he says the word fun with more of an angry tone.

“No,”

“No?” Harry raises an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, no,” you say while lifting your chin up.

“Not making a lot of sense, darling,” he mutters. You notice how his jaw is clenched, eyes hard before they wander around the VIP section.

He seems to find who or whatever he’s looking for as he takes a few steps behind you. This is your chance, you think with a smile as you turn back to the bartender and flip your hair from your face. He’s standing back in front of you as you give him a wave.

“Tequila, please,” you sing.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“Look, Denis,” you pause as your eyes narrow into small slits. “If you don’t pour me another double shot of tequila so I can continue on with my night, I will make your life a living hell,”

“Put the claws away, Y/N,” Harry’s back standing behind you. “No more to drink, you’re leaving now,”

“No!” You shout at him as you turn to face him maybe a bit too quickly. Your stomach sloshing at the movements. “You’re not the boss of me,” you add.

“Actually, I am,” he smirks. Bastard, you think as you glare at him. “Put her tab on my card, Darren,” Harry says, his eyes not leaving yours as he places his credit card on the bar.

“The manager was covering my tab tonight,” you state, lips curling up into a smirk to match his.

“Actually, I fired him,”

“Fired? What do you think you just own this whole damn city?” You question, crossing your arms at your chest.

“Well, I do own this club,” Harry says, “so, yes, he’s fired,”

“Bullshit,” you roll your eyes as the anger seems to be rolling off you now. Your drunk was no more happy all thanks to your crazy boss.

“Thank you,” Harry says to Darren as he takes back his card, eyes skimming the receipt briefly. “Jesus, were you trying to drink yourself to bloody stupidity?” he asks before shoving the receipt into his pocket.

“Well my friends were with me, so like they had some drinks too obviously,” you shrug and lean back against the bar.

“Where are your friends now?”

You shrug again and find yourself watching him through your blurring vision. Didn’t matter how many men here tried to make a move. Harry Styles was by far the hottest most sexy of them all. Maybe it was a good call to not have another shot of tequila so you could fuck the-

Your thoughts are cut short as you feel sick suddenly. Running past Harry, you push open the bathroom door, locking the first open stall in sight before clasping to your knees and throwing up into the toilet bowl. Your ears are ringing as you barely make out the sounds in the bathroom around you. Some girl is shouting, then your heads in the toilet again as you gag out more contents of your stomach.

“Y/N,” Harry’s voice is soft from the other side of the stall. You close your eyes and lean against the side of the stall, the metal was cool like it was earlier too. “Are you okay?” Harry asks.

“I’m fine, Harry,” you answer in a sarcastic tone, smiling as you look over to see his favourite YSL boots on the other side of the door.

“Unlock the door,” he orders.

You roll your eyes and stand on your wobbly heels. Placing both hands on the door, you let out a deep breath before whipping the door open and pushing passed Harry. You needed to rinse your mouth, you think while stepping up to the sink. After doing so you look up into the mirror. Your eyes find Harry in the reflection right away. He has his back to you for a few moments, shoulders rise up before falling slowly back down to his composed posture he always has. When he turns around to face you, taking the step steps towards you, you can see the anger in his eyes.

You fucked up.

“Don’t yell at me,” the words slip past your lips before you can stop them. Then suddenly you’re pouting at him too.

Damn tequila.

“I want to do a lot more than yell at you, pet,” Harry says through clenched teeth.

It’s the first time you’re alone with him now. Glancing around you notice that Harry had kicked everyone out of the bathroom. You brush your hands against your hips, the lace rough before you touch the cool leather of your pants. Harry looks at you through the reflection in the mirror, he’s towering over your figure - so close you can feel his hot breath on your neck. 

“Like what?” You question, your tone once again taken over from the tequila in your system - what were you doing teasing your boss after you just threw up only moments ago? 

Harry doesn’t answer - verbally. Instead he grips your hips with both his hands, his touch rough and firm, pulling your body into his. You react with a quick gasp, then he’s lifting one hand up to your throat. Harry gently squeezes, while you widen your eyes and stare at him in the mirror once again. There’s no denying how your core is pulsing between your legs. There’s also no missing the hardness pressed against your lower back. A glimpse of desire crosses Harry’s face. Lips spread into a wicked smile, his eyes hooded as they gaze back at you through the reflection. 

“I want to fuck the recklessness out of you,” he speaks as though he’s craving the mere idea of it. 

Harry tights his grip at your throat as his other hand snakes around to the front of your pants. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would do exactly what he just stated he wanted. Harry Styles made it pretty clear over this past month that he always got what he wanted. 

“I want you to know who’s the boss of you,” he continues, “I want you to stutter over my name as I show you exactly who’s the boss of you,”

A whimper gets caught in your throat as you ache to be touched. You had learnt over time that Harry had a way with his words - and he knew it too. The way he’d just simply reword something to sound more seductive in the office, it always got to you. 

“I want it,” you utter the three words Harry loved the most. 

He pops the button of your pants undone, sliding down the zipper before running his fingertip over the lace that was apart of your bodysuit situation. The motion causes you to quiver under his touch, you moving only results in Harry’s grip tightening - both at you throat and your hip. 

You don’t even realize that you had closed your eyes as they flutter open once more and catch Harry’s dark greens in the mirror. His chest is rising and falling at a faster pace than normal. In that moment it’s almost as though you read his mind.

“Please,” you say just above a whisper. 

Harry has your pants to your knees in only two swift movements, and that’s impressive considering just how tight the leather material was. He rips the material of the bodysuit just as quick, the veins in his hands pulsing as he does so, and you barely have a second to think of how upset Samantha is going to be you ripped her lingerie. Your bare bum is lifted up to the damp counter top, your hands falling back to grip on of the sinks while your head smacks back into the mirror. Harry’s hands are at his own body now, but only for a few moments as he slips his hard cock out of his pants. 

Your stomach feels like giants are stomping inside, while you can hear your own pulse in your ears loud and clear. There’s no sound coming from your mouth but it’s open, maybe in shock or maybe in anticipation - you were too drunk to really know. 

Harry only brushes the tip of him between your soaking slits once before he’s pushing himself into you - hard. You gasp, a burning feeling overcoming you between your legs. But then he’s moving, fast, pounding into you in quick hard meaningful thrusts. With each thrust a gasp escapes your lips. Harry moves a hand back to your throat, which you react by leaning back more in order to give his hand more room to choke you. The warm feeling in the pit of your stomach grows quick as Harry fucks you hard on the bathroom sink. 

You lose it when he rubs your clit, not soft in any way, no he wants to get your release out of the way almost. And when your body is pulsing under his touch, waves of your orgasm rippling through your entire body, he slips out of you completely and flips your body so your stomach is flat against the counter. Harry positions himself between your legs again before entering your warm wet cunt. You moan at the sensitive feeling as he fucks you some more. 

Lifting your head, you meet your own glassy eyes first. Glassy from the drinks you’ve downed tonight, and from the pleasure you’re feeling right in this moment now. Just has Harry’s thrusts begin to slow, you raise your gaze to look at him instead. What a sight, you think as his eyes are closed and his mouth is open. Within seconds you feel him finish inside of you. Warm and oozing between your thighs as he slips out slowly. 

You shut your eyes for a moment as you focus on your breathing. This was by far the quickest fuck you and Harry have had. Maybe even the roughest. And it was definitely hot. God, just thinking about how his hand felt around your throat made you want to pull him in for another round. 

“Pull up your pants,” Harry demands. 

Your eyes flutter open, meeting Harry’s serious eyes. Standing on wobbling feet, you reach for your pants and pull them up to your hips again. You have to tuck in the ends of the bodysuit, while you could still feel the wetness between your thighs. Suppose Harry didn’t feel like helping you clean up today. 

“Where are your keys?” Harry’s questions causes you to turn and look at where he stood now. He was by the stall, going through your purse. 

“My roommate has them,” you answer. 

“And she is where?” 

“I, I don’t know,” you reply sheepishly. Eyes cast down to the floor as you realize you’ve made yourself look like even a biggest fool in front of Harry. 

“Suppose you can stay at mine,” Harry mutters. 

You nod while brushing your hands through your hair. There was this feeling at the pit of your stomach. Tonight was gone to absolute shit. Harry was going to fire you. Let you sleep at his house, and then fire you tomorrow morning. There was no way in hell any of your behaviour was acceptable tonight. How you told him off, ignored his messages, and then somehow managed to fuck him in the public washroom. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour as Harry leads the way from the bathroom to where he had a car waiting for the two of you outside the club. 

Harry doesn’t speak in the car. So neither do you. In fact the cool feeling of the window against your cheek causes you to close your eyes and nearly doze off to sleep. But you’re still aware of the situation you’re currently in, so you force yourself to stay awake till you got into whatever sleeping arrangement Harry had for you. 

You steal one glance at Harry during the car ride. The lights from the city night casting into the car and lighting up his high feature of his face. He’s got his knuckles pressed against his lips, something he did while in deep thought quite often, you had taken note of it over the past while now. His eyes are focused forward, but you know he’s zoned out in whatever thoughts are clouding his head. Maybe it was how he was going to fire you tomorrow. You open your mouth for only a second, thinking of slipping out a quick apology, but instead you press them tightly closed once more and look back out the window beside you. Right now you wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and get rid of this foggy feeling all that tequila gave you. 

“You can sleep in the guest bedroom, first door on the left down that way.” Harry states, pointing to the hallway at your left as the private elevator for his penthouse opens up. 

Harry walks out into the open concept quick. Obviously over the wow factor his home held. It was stunning. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were all one big room. Floor to high ceiling windows across from the wall with the elevator gave him and his guests the best view of the city you could ever imagine. It was decorated with minimalist taste, only greys and blacks - absolutely no colour besides the deep chestnut wood of the floors beneath your feet. You especially liked the dark cabinets and granite that complimented his kitchen beautifully. Harry’s standing at the biggest stainless steel fridge you’ve ever seen. 

He closes it and has one bottle of water and one bottle of blue Gatorade in his hand. You begin walking to where he is now, impressed by the appliances in the kitchen. He had a freaking high quality espresso machine that you’ve seen in a Starbucks.

“Drink this when you wake up,” Harry says. He meets your eyes for the first time since leaving the club. “There should be Advil in the cupboard of the en suite too. And drink some of this before you go to sleep,” he orders while placing the Gatorade down first and then the water bottle. 

“I know how to help a hangover, Harry,” you state, “I was once in university, you know,” 

“I do know,” he nods, “was just thinking you spend that time and all those student loans on your education, not partying,” 

“I didn’t always party,” you mutter under your breath. Harry stares at you across the island that you stood on the other side of it. “I just, I needed to let loose and have some fun tonight. I’m sorry that I got you involved in my personal bullcrap of a night,” you finally say half of whats heavy on your chest. 

Harry nods once. Then his eyes fall to where a clock was in the kitchen. You follow his gaze and catch sight of the time too. It was nearing 2 in the morning now. A yawn escapes your lips. 

“Have a good sleep, darling,” Harry says softly before he’s walking out of the open room and down one of the two hallways. 

Sadly he walks down the other hallway, opposite to the one he directed you to where the bed you’d be sleeping in was. You imagine sharing a bed with Harry again like you had the one time back at the hotel, the first time you two had had sex. Since that night you hadn’t fallen asleep beside him since. He fucked you at the office, in the back of cars, and even in the bathroom of a club now.

You ignore these thoughts and grab the two bottles that Harry had gotten for you before finding the bedroom you’d be sleeping in. There was nothing more you wanted right now than to get under the blanket and sleep. Well, maybe you wanted this night to have never happened - then you would be able to sleep peacefully knowing your job wasn’t about to be done for. 

The next morning you woke up to the sun shining in your eyes. The first thing that you notice as you sit up are how your clothes that you had left on the floor are now gone. Then your head begins to pound, letting out a deep breath you reach for the Gatorade. But sitting beside it is a note.

‘come into the office whenever you start feeling better- Harry’

You throw up in the shower. It’s not by any means your best moment, but it happens, and after getting nice and clean - in one of the greatest showers ever - you walk back out to the bedroom. Harry’s guest bedroom. Your bosses guest freaking bedroom. You shake your head at yourself and turn to see another note tapped to the closet door. 

‘got you a few things to chose from - Harry’

He was buying you clothes after last night? You sigh and open the door to reveal the decent sized walk in, you couldn’t imagine what the master bedroom was like if this was only a guest bedroom. Inside you see a few items hung in the otherwise empty closet, as well as a pair of shoes sitting on the floor neatly. 

There’s two dresses and a blouse and skirt hung up. All tags say Gucci on them, which honestly makes your head spin just thinking of how much they are worth but it could also be the killer hangover you were nursing while sipping on the Gatorade Harry had gotten for you last night. With little to no want to even be standing right now, you grab for the first hanger and put the simple cream colour dress with green and red stripes on. It zips completely up the front, from bottom to top. Suppose Harry would like the easy access of this dress, you think. Too bad he would no longer be your boss after the crap you put him through last night. 

There’s no underwear, that should be noted, but you’re not really that surprised that Harry hadn’t gotten you any sort of under garments at all. He wasn’t a fan of underwear at all really. You decide to throw your hair up as it’s still a bit damp, then you find your purse and walk to the bedroom door. The heels click against the hardwood flooring while you walk to the large open concept living space of Harry’s home. 

He’s not home, obviously, hence the first note you had read this morning. Going into the office so early on a Saturday only meant that things were just as busy as ever - business didn’t even stop for the holidays. You take another generous sip of the Gatorade and check your phone for the time. 

Suppose it’s better to get this over with, you think. It was only 8 in the morning, only an hour later than when you’d typically head into work. You ignore the text messages from your friends, only making sure there wasn’t any new ones from Harry. There isn’t. You let out another sigh and head towards the elevator that’s inside Harry’s house. Because who doesn’t have a private elevator right? You take in the view one last time with a longing look - you wanted this view. You wanted this life. And yet you managed to fuck up your only passage into this lifestyle by drinking far too much tequila and fucking your boss. Your professors would be so proud. 

“Miss,” you recognize Harry’s driver as you enter the lobby. He’s waiting for you it seems, standing from one of the couches as you walk towards him. “Mr Styles has told me to take you into work this morning,” he states. 

“Well,” you pause, swallowing back the threat of vomiting for the third time this morning. “Let’s get going then,” you say with a tight smile.  

You nearly fall asleep on the short ride to the Styles Enterprises building. Harry’s driver opens the door for you, which you simply give him a smile and short thank you in return. Maybe he’d like to give you a ride home to your crap apartment after, stop by a few cafes on the way home to find a new job too. You let out a sigh and ignore the rest of the people around the building that do recognize you. 

This was by far one of the worst hangovers of your life, you think while finishing the rest of the Gatorade and tossing the bottle in the bin under your desk. Harry’s office door is closed. As it always is. Checking the calendar on your desk, you make sure he’s not in a meeting or on an important call. There’s nothing written down, so you drop your purse off and walk to the large doors. 

“Come in,” Harry calls from inside after you knock. 

He’s sitting at his desk, his back straight as a board as he types away whatever business stuff he had to attend to at this hour. God you were too hungover for this. You stop only a foot in front of his desk and wait for him to look up. It takes only a few breaths before Harry’s gaze falls to you. He lets his eyes draw up the length of you, from the black heels to the mess of hair upon your head. He probably notices the few small bruises at your knees from whatever you did last night. Or maybe he notices the small red marks at your neck. You remember what those are from, 100-percent, you’d never forget it. 

“Did you not read my note?” Harry questions.

“Yeah, I did,” you nod, pausing to lick your lips, “just thought I’d get this whole losing my job thing over with,”

“Losing your job?” He raises a brow, pushing his chair back a bit from the desk. You raise your eyebrows as well, tilting your head at him. 

“You really expect me to believe you’re not going to fire me after what happened last night?”

“You were enjoying a night out with friends, I admit I was being pushy with my text messages,” Harry says as he stands from his desk. You stay silent at his words. You rarely hear Harry ever admit he’s wrong. In fact you can’t think of a time, work related or not. It may also be because your brain’s working a bit slower this morning. 

“You’re being serious?” You ask, “I’m not fired?” 

You watch Harry’s every step as he makes his way around his desk and towards you. There’s not missing how your heart rate picks up again. Damn him, you think. He looked so good today in his grey suit and baby blue shirt. The top two buttons were undone which makes you think he must really be having a tough morning. You wonder how you can help. 

“Miss, if you could get me another coffee, and make sure my next weekend is freed up,” Harry says. 

“Of course,” you nod. 

Harry reaches forward, the backs of his fingers gently touching the marks at your neck. You hold your breath. He blinks slowly, eyes still on them as he probably recalls last night in the bathroom. Then he’s reaching up to your hair, tugging at the elastic that was keeping it up. You reach up to help, letting your hair down. 

“Maybe it’s best to keep your hair down, darling,” he says, a sly smile curling at his mouth. 

“Right,” you breathe out. 

Harry’s so close. So close that you can’t help but look down at his lips. 

“Coffee, please,” he smiles. 

You nod again and turn to walk out of his office. And maybe stop by the woman’s washroom to empty out your stomach yet again this morning. The mere thought of vomiting makes you feel even more sick. 

“Y/N,” Harry calls. You turn back around, lifting your brows as you fear opening your mouth would resulting in vomit ending up on the floor of Harry’s office. “Make sure your calendar is clear for next weekend too, you’ll be joining me” he exclaims. 

“Sorry?”

“Is there an issue?” Harry questions, his eyes barely raise from where they were looking down at some papers in his hands. 

“It’s nothing, just had some plans-”

“Another night with tequila?” 

“No-” 

“Good, then cancel your plans. Or I’ll think about that whole you losing your job thing again,” Harry says. You can only nod before you turn away and walk out of his office. 

These past 24 hours have been the wildest of your entire life, you’re sure of it. You try to forget about it all as you sit at your desk and begin to clear Harry’s schedule for the upcoming weekend. What for? Well that was the burning question now, seeing as you were to join him. You hoped it was to travel somewhere nice - you could enjoy Hawaii in December. 

—

December 3rd 2021

You catch sight of Harry in the thinning crowd of the night. Though you hadn’t done much socializing after trying to cover yourself from the load of crap Harry started earlier in the night. While Harry had been buttering up anyone and everyone. You especially didn’t like the attention he was giving that blonde, her hair looked fake for Godsake. 

“Lovely coat,” Harry says as he steps up in front of you. 

“Oh shut it, before I kick you out of my club,” you spit back. All these drinks in your system meant you didn’t have the time to put up with him right now. Truthfully you just wanted Michael to get here and bring you home. 

“Such a petty move, by the way, buying this bar,” he states, eyes wandering around the room. 

“Thought that bar manager deserved his job back after your jealousy got him fired after all,” you ramble back at him, tightening your coat at your chest as the front doors open a few feet away from you. “Besides, you put it on the market, I just saw a good business opportunity,” you add. 

“Questionable statements, all of them,” Harry says. 

You don’t have a response. So instead you press your lips together tightly, eyeing Harry for the millionth time tonight. God you wanted nothing more than to hit him. Maybe you’d hire someone to do it. A few ideas came to mind as big bold letters reading ‘PAYBACK’ flashed through your head. You pull your mouth up to a smirk, crossing your arms at your chest now. 

“I didn’t realize we were going to be playing these games so soon, Styles,” you say. 

“Thought you knew the business by now, darling,” Harry’s smirk matches yours. It was like fighting fire with fire. And you loved it. 

“Oh you taught me plenty about this side of the business, don’t you worry,” you say, taking one stop forward and bringing your fingers up to the collar of his white dress shirt. You smooth your fingers slowly over the material a few times. “I’ll play dirty,” you pause and lean towards him till your lips brush against his ear, “if that’s what you want,” you say. 

You think for only a second that you’d stunned him to silence. But you never had the upper hand. A gasp pushes passed your lips as he places a hand at your lower back and presses you flesh against his front. Turning your head, you meet his gleaming eyes and devious smile. 

“You’ve always know exactly how dirty I like it, darling,” he says. 

He’s only close for a few seconds. As you’re too tipsy to push away immediately - or maybe too turned on. Either way, you give him a quick look before bringing your hands to his shoulders and pushing away from his hold. There’s no more words to be exchanged, you think as you walk to the front doors and find Michael standing there with the door open waiting for you. You don’t miss the questioning look in his eyes. 

“Take me home, Michael,” you hiss at him. 

Of course, you’re not angry at him. Oh no, it’s the mischievous green eyed bastard of a man that has managed to weasel his way back into your life - even after all the damage he’s done to you.

[blackpinups]

This photo of Brialarein is life! Model: Bria Larine Photo: Breann White @brialarine @breannwhite #pinup #blackpinup #afro #hair https://www.instagram.com/p/B_VYeTmF0Sy/?igshid=f871hasnwlgy