#didnt make too long because it would have gone on for twenty five years otherwise
Note
Favorite period costume usage?
AAA THIS QUESTION IS TOO HARD. There are too many!!! Too many!!!!!!
Here are only the top 5 that popped immediately into my head. There are other (probably even better) examples out there, but if I thought any more about it my brain would explode with love.
Pride and Prejudice (2005). I love how Jacqueline Durran broke free from the traditional prim-and-proper Austen palette to actually tell us about the characters. A lot of Austen blogs have fun deriding this movie because it’s not 100% historically accurate, but historical accuracy isn’t the point of costume design—telling the damn story is. And man, do these costumes tell it! Look at these great, differentiated character types! Look at how the film takes your ideas of what an Austen movie should be and flips it upside down! Look at how it connects with its audience through subtle modern touches, keeping the story clear but breaking free of the dusty historical vibes!
The Three Musketeers (2011). This movie is trash, utter garbage, just an utter nonsense pile groaning majestically under its massive budget, it’s like a period movie but dipped in butter and deep fried with eleven different kinds of crack cocaine. I LOVE it. The costumes (by Pierre-Yves Gayraud) are beautiful, beautiful and INSANE, and it holds a very special place in my heart as the best (or is it worst?) garbage movie I’ve ever seen.
I love Terry Dresbach’s work on Outlander. She does a fantastic job blending together the disparate periods of the 1940s and the 1740s, and she turns the often cold-looking eighteenth century into something warm and interesting. All the little knitted lovelies! All the textures! This era has never looked better. Her work on this also goes to show that you don’t have to design historical movies so they look like all other historical movies. Like any historical period, there are lots of disparate aesthetics and cultures living together in one time; researching that and picking out the things that tell your story best is part of the costume designer’s job.
I...I just love Terry Dresbach.
Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang (1968). This movie was a staple of my childhood, and probably one of the top ten that nailed me into the coffin of costume design. Truly Scrumptious was an icon for a four-year-old, and her lacy glamor—along with the Potts’ scrappy-chic outfits, and the Edwardian beauty of the extas, and the bonkers whimsy of Vulgaria—all of that magic works with the rest of the production design to bring you into this beautiful world. Joan Bridge and Elizabeth Haffenden don’t get a lot of fame as designers, but to me they’re masters.
Sleeping Beauty (1959). Ending this list on an unexpected classic—an animated movie! Yes, yes, animation doesn’t work with costume design in the traditional sense of needle-and-thread, but the key concepts are still at work here. The research into medieval forms; the definition of character through line, shape, color; the work between departments to make sure the costumes work with the backgrounds work with the script—it’s all here, just in a different way. I’m enraptured by how the fairies are all plump ladies, but their integral shapes are all SO different and capture their personalities just perfectly. I’m entranced by how Malificent and Aurora visually mirror each other. The use of sharp lines and jewel-like colors all tie back to the illuminated world these characters live in. I believe main credit goes to Tom Oreb, Marc Davis, and Alice Estes, though I’m sure many more people were involved in realizing these designs.
and i have to stop there! oh no! i haven’t even gotten into shape of water! or the court jester! or oh damn oh no didn’t even COVER the beauties of the great comet! god i love historical costume design.
#IM BIASED OOPS#i just started listing movies i love after a certain point srry#but i tried to give good reasons behind each and to talk about costume! oopsy daisy#costume design#didnt make too long because it would have gone on for twenty five years otherwise
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Omovember 2020
Day One - In a Vehicle
Kageyama x Reader
Kageyama’s PoV
Could i get any stupider?
In the rush of Hinata, Y/n and I finishing our tests, scrambling into Tanaks sisters car and setting off immediately for Tokyo I hadnt had time to pee.
Hinata was sat in the front passenger seat as Y/n and I were in the back of the car.
To make matters even worse, i had a huge crush on Y/n and the nerves of sitting next to her were bugging my bladder even more.
I tried to keep my breathing steady because i knew that if i panicked things would only get even worse for my nerves.
I wasnt too desperate yet but the need was still there. We had only been driving for about ten minuets so i definitely couldnt ask how much longer we had to drive yet otherwise everyone would definitely know something was wrong with me.
I crossed my legs which seemed to ease the pressure a little bit and made everything a bit more bearable and i tried to focus my mind on anything but my need to pee.
I jumped slightly as Y/n tapped my shoulder five minuets later and i felt my bladder twinge slightly, making me squeeze my thighs together as descretely as i could.
‘Whats up?’ I asked Y/n, who sent me a stunning smile.
‘You look bored, you wanna listen to some music with me?’ She asked, holding out one of her earbuds to me.
I nodded and shakily grabbed the headphone, ‘Yeah, thanks.’
She just nodded, ‘No problem!’
We had to shuffle slightly closer to eachother so that the earphones could reach to both of our ears and i couldnt help but notice how my seatbelt uncomfortablely pressed down onto my bladder, making my desperation go from a 4/10 to a 7/10.
Hinata and Saeko (Tanakas sister) were chatting happily about volleyball and the tiny giant in the front seats and i was glad that they werent focused on me because then i would feel even more pressured.
Another fifteen minuets had passed and I had tried my best to get lost in Y/n’s music but now my bladder was almost at its maximum capacity and i was beginning to shuffle around a bit, squeezing my thighs together as tight as possible.
Y/n looked at me and yanked the headphone wire, making them fall out of both of our ears.
Y/n went closer to my ear and whispered, ‘Hey, are you okay? You seem uncomfortable?’
My body shivered at the feeling of her breath on my skin and it relaxed my body for a second, making a bit of urine leak out of me.
I gasped and crammed my hands onto my crotch, tensing my body up again, stopping the flow as fast as i possibly could.
Y/n’s eyes widened in realisation and i blushed a deep red, hiding my face away from her, waiting for her to tell me how disgusting and gross i am.
But she didnt...
Instead, she placed a hand comfortingly on my shoulder, her touch making my heart rate speed up even more.
‘Is there anything i can do to help you?’ She whispered to me once again, continuing to keep her voice low so Saeko and Hinata wouldnt ask questions.
I shook my head and tried to calm myself down. There was no way in hell that i was gonna show myself up in front of the girl i like by acting like a four year old.
‘N-no,’ I said, trying to act as calm as possible, ‘Im f-fine dont worry.’
She didnt look like she believed me so i slowly removed my hands from between my legs to try and prove that i wasnt as desperate as it seemed.
Bad idea.
As soon as i took my hands away, another bit of urine left me and i gasped once again, putting my hands back onto my crotch.
This time the flow was harder to control and i knew that there was a 99% chance that there would be a wet patch on my shorts.
Saeko and Hinata must have heard me gasp because their conversation stopped abruptly.
‘You okay back there?’ Sakeo asked and i felt my throat dry up.
Hinata began to turn around to look at us and Y/n and I both panicked, knowing he would see my obvious state of desperation.
Y/n suddenly unclipped her seatbelt and laid accross my lap gently, covering up my crossed legs and hiding my odd hand placement.
Her arm momentarily dug into my stomach, pressing on my overfilled bladder, forcing a two second stream of urine out of me which i painfully cut off, knowing that my boxers were almost fully soaked now.
‘How come your laid down, Y/n?’ Hinata asked her and she sighed.
‘I just feel a bit car sick,’ She said, ‘Do you know how long it will be until we get to Tokyo?’
*Slick* I thought to myself. She had somehow managed to cover up the fact i was about to pee myself AND had a good reason to ask how long it would take until we would arrive.
Hinata frowned, ‘Oh thats not good, i hope you feel better soon!’ and turned back around to look out of the front window.
‘We will arrive in half an hour but were gonna be on this stretch of road for another twenty minuets and wont see another place to stop for a while.’ Saeko said, sounding worried about Y/n.
Y/n frowned at me and sat up again, ‘Okay dont worry, im feeling a bit better after lying down but when we come across a place to stop it would be nice to be stationary for a while.’
Saeko chuckled slightly, ‘Okie dokie! Ill keep that in mind for you!’
Y/n mustve seen the tears in my eyes and my expression showing that i had completely lost hope as she placed an arm around my shoulders, hugging my side for a second before whispering, ‘Sorry i couldnt help you much. Dont stress out, we’ll find a stop for you. You’ll be okay.’
I got butterflies in my stomach from her touch but i ignored them, not wanting to focus on anything else other than holding myself in.
Y/n clipped herself back into her seat and I decided that i would have to speak up. Y/n already knew and Saeko wouldnt make fun of me. Surely i could just scare Hinata into keeping his mouth shut too.
‘C-can you drive a-any faster?’ I shakily asked, panic evident in my voice, ‘I r-really need t-the bathroom.’
Saeko immediately sped the car up, ‘Ill drive as fast as i can. We’ll reach a stop in about fifteen minuets. Can you last?’
I felt a single tear roll down my cheek, feeling pathetic and stupid, ‘I... I d-dont know!’
‘Its usually me who need to pee.’ Hinata said from his seat, making me bubble with anger.
‘S-shut up idiot! This i-isnt funny!’ I growled at him, unable to make my voice any louder.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, putting all my energy into keeping my muscles tensed as much as i possibly could.
My eyes widened as my body began to relax itsself against my will.
‘No... NO.. NO!’ I panicked, ‘YOU N-NEED TO PULL THE C-CAR OVER!’
Saeko quickly turned the wheel and brought the car to the side of the road and i unclipped my seatbelt, threw the door open, and scrambled out of the car.
As soon as i got out i immediately crumbled onto the floor, my legs giving out underneath me as my lap began to feel warm.
Wow. I had really gone and done it hadnt i? I pissed myself in front of my senpais sister, annoying volleyball partner AND my crush. Could it have been any worse?
My shorts were completely soaked and a puddle had began to grow around me. I couldnt even bring myself to try and stop it because my body felt so weak.
No amount of embarassment would ever compare to what i was feeling in that moment. I didnt even want to begin to imagine what Saeko, Hinata and Y/n were thinking of me.
Tears rolled down my cheeks and i kept my head down so no one would be able to see my face.
It took at least a minute for my bladder to fully empty. I felt so pathetic and dumb but there was nothing i could do other than just sit there and wait for myself to be finished.
A pair of shoes came into my line of vision and i looked up slowly to see Y/n with her hand stretched out to me, offering to help me up.
I looked away from her quickly, my voice barely above a whisper, ‘You s-shouldnt touch m-me. Im a-all gross. Even m-my hands.’
She crouched down and placed a hand on my cheek, wiping away one of my tears and making me look up at her, my face even redder.
‘I dont care. Dont stress about it okay? Its a human need. There wasnt anything you could do to avoid it.’ She said in a calm and genuine voice.
I nodded and she grabbed my slightly damp hand. I glanced at her face and she want even slightly disgusted.
I stood up and Y/n kept her hand laced with mine.
We got back into the car, I was sat on a towel. Saeko said that she didnt mind and strangely Hinata hadnt even mentioned it which i was thankful for. Although everyone was being very calm and unaffected by it, i still felt mortified.
Y/n suddenly lent over to me to whisper in my ear one last time, ‘Dont worry about it so much. Ill always have a crush on you.’
My face reddened as i looked at her, ‘I h-have a c-crush on you too.’
Y/n giggled, ‘I guess that makes me your girlfriend then.’
~~~~~~~~~~
hey guys !!
this was my first time writing an omofic so i hope you liked it !!!
~ flobro
#animeomo#omorashi#kageyamaomo#haikyuuomo#kageyamaxreader#haikyuuxreader#haikyuuxreaderomo#y/n#hinatashoyo#kageyamatobio#fanfiction#omofic#omorashifanfiction#pee#fictomo#theres not enough haikyuu x reader omo#PLEASE MAKE MORE HAIKYUU X READER OMO#omovember
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Cruel Summer
Disclaimer: No gifs or photos are mine unless stated otherwise.
Warning: It’s a smutty, filthy, NSFW Tom Holland AU and he just can’t seem to keep his hands off his best friend’s sister. No. Really. It’s a problem for both of them.
Subject: Tom X Y/N
"Why can't you watch the beach house, Jordan?" I asked my brother with my phone tucked between my ear and shoulder, wet dishes in between my palms.
"Because you live closer, you don't have a toddler running around, and you got out of doing it last time."
"Bringing JJ into this is low, even for you. Scumbag." I laughed, not serious in the slightest.
Jordan was two years younger than me but was probably more put together than I'd ever be. He ran his own construction company, had a beautiful wife, and had given me the greatest gift I'd ever known; my nephew, JJ.
Staying at the beach house was far from a hardship, but there was a storm coming and based on the news reports it was going to get ugly. Mom and dad wanted someone there to keep an eye on things and they were getting a bit too old to handle the responsibility of tending to the beach house on their own. I didn't blame them, and I didnt blame Jordan, he was right. I did live closer, but I was also looking forward to spending this weekend's storm curled up in bed watching old Audrey Hepburn movies and eating my weight in Pizzeria Regina. My phone was gonna be on airplane mode, absolutely no disturbances. Maybe a few orgasms, a little porn.
But even as I was scrubbing dishes and getting ready for my relaxing weekend, I knew I'd soon be packing a bag and getting in my car to head to the beach. Shit. “Fine. Fine. I’ll head out soon, but if this storm turns out to be nothing I am returning your birthday present and you’re responsible for mom and dad’s anniversary dinner.”
“If you really want to trust your dear brother in the kitchen then that’s your fault.”
I laughed, drying my hands with a towel before grabbing the phone. “Jordan, can you promise me one thing?”
“What’s that, Y/N?”
“Promise to give that kid the biggest kiss for me. Leila, too.”
“Thank you for not stealing him away!” My sister-in-law’s voice traveled through the phone like a song, her Japanese accent soft.
“Love you both. Stay safe tonight.”
“Text me when you get there.”
I ended the call, tossing my phone on the bed and quickly rummaging through my closet. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the tv could be heard faintly from the living room, alerting me to the weather report. Sixty mile per hour winds, flash floods, possibility of power outages, and a storm warning was already in effect.
I quickly yanked on a pair of denim shorts and an old UMass hoodie, the maroon material worn and comfortable, and definitely not mine. There may have been a storm rolling in but the summer air was thick with humidity, so all I grabbed as alternatives were a bathing suit, another pair of shorts, and a t-shirt, tucking the materials into my backpack along with my toothbrush and phone charger.
Within minutes I was packed and ready to go, pulling the hood over my head and catching the familiar scent of someone I hadn’t seen in a while. Or, maybe it was less of a scent and more of a memory. Shrugging it away, I locked the door and bounded to my car just as the first few drops of rain began to fall.
Music flowed through the speakers as I took back roads towards the coast, something tugging at my heart a bit as I thought of the last time I’d been at the beach house. My parents, Jordan, Leila, JJ.
Tom.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to relax as an old song came on.
Fuck this. I turned the radio down, alone with my thoughts. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about Tom since the last time I saw him, since I said too much. It wasn’t a hookup, it was nothing more than a conversation. Which was fine, Tom and I were friends. Sort of. Not really. He was my brother’s friend, his best friend. And that was it.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t sitting there suddenly drowning in thoughts about our last encounter, both of us out on the back deck long after everyone had gone to sleep, the first real conversation we’d ever had in our adult lives. I hadn’t seen him in nearly two years when we were both still in college, Tom at UMass Amherst while I attended USC. He’d moved from London to the States with his family when he was thirteen, making fast friends with Jordan and becoming like a part of the family. He was around on holidays, weekends, he practically lived at our house during the summer. He would drink my orange juice and bother me while I tried to read. I’d known him when he was annoying and pimple faced, when he was an absolute dick to anyone who wasn’t JJ, when he was going off to college. Tom had been a major part of my childhood, my formative years.
He was also the biggest player I had ever met.
From an early age he knew that girls were drawn to the accent. He used it to his advantage, had girls hanging off his every word. I’d seen his social media, saw him shirtless on beaches with different girls, in clubs with different girls, in dorm rooms with different girls. I wasn’t jealous, but only because I’d known him for years. However, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about the hype.
From the day I met him, I knew Tom Holland was trouble.
But that night, long after everyone had gone to sleep and we were two bottles of wine deep, something shifted. Maybe it was the topic of conversation, maybe it was the way the late June breeze wrapped around us, maybe it was the fucking wine. But something changed that night.
But that was two months ago.
We hadn’t spoken since.
I shook my head, telling myself to stay focused on the road, on the drive. I could still have the peaceful weekend I wanted, if only I could turn my brain off for just a bit.
I was pulling into the driveway of the beach house forty five minutes later and the rain was coming down in buckets. It was flying sideways, splashing against the car hard enough that I couldn’t see out the windshield. Thunder boomed overhead and it felt as though it was straight out of a movie.
I yanked my hood up once more and killed the engine, gripping my backpack and holding it against my chest as I looked at the house. The two story, wood shingled home was every bit the beach cottage. It was located right on a dead end, a path leading straight down to the beach.
The lights were off, the furniture on the porch scattered from the wind. I knew I’d have my work cut out for me if I needed to make sure everything was secure, so without thinking twice, I threw open the driver’s side door and jumped out, the broken shells in the driveway crunching under my sneakers. I made a beeline for the side door, running up the steps and throwing open the storm door as the wind howled around me, A regular thunderstorm was bad enough. A summer storm? It could leave the house flooded.
Unlocking the door, I threw myself inside and slammed it behind me, leaning back and catching my breath as the silent stillness of the house settled around me. Thanks to modern technology, I turned the central air on before I got there, so the air was cool against my bare legs.
I went through the motions and turned some lights on, made sure the basement was shut with bags of sand by every entrance to soak up any flood water or other leaks. The fridge was empty, but I wasn’t hungry anyway. I knew I’d disappear up to my room with a bottle of wine and Netflix on my mind soon enough, I just needed to make-
Headlights bounced off the living room walls, a sign that someone had just pulled into the driveway. Surely it wasn’t my parents, they both hated driving in the rain, and it couldn’t have been Jordan, unless he was so concerned by the weather that he felt compelled to drive over an hour to check on me.
I quickly pulled my phone out of my back pocket. No missed calls or texts. Oh, so you’re saying it’s a murderer? My mind was quickly going into overdrive, covering all the possibilities of who would be there to murder me and what I could use as a weapon to defend myself. But hey, could you blame me? Twenty five years old and alone during a storm, 20/20 basically already had that episode mapped out for me.
A car door slammed shut.
Shells were being crunched under shoes.
Pounding footsteps up the side stairs. A shadow appeared on the other side of the door and my heart leaped into my chest. I was more than prepared to call the police when I heard the familiar sound of a key being inserted into a lock. I was standing in the doorway of the living room when the side door swung open, revealing someone I most certainly wasn’t expecting to see.
“I… Tom?”
He was squinting, his face and hair soaked by the onslaught of rain outside. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
It was evident that he was just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. Tom’s accent seemed to thicken when he was angry or confused, and right now he seemed to be a mix of both.
I took in his appearance, trying not to be too obvious. He was wearing dark washed jeans and a pair of black Nikes, a simple black hoodie over a plain white t-shirt. Completely fucking effortless and still the most good looking guy in a fifty mile radius. His brown curls were matted to his forehead and he pushed them back, running his fingers through the thick trusses.
“What are you doing here?” The words came out accusatory and I cleared my throat. Relax. You’ve been in this house with him plenty of times before. “Are you... is there a girl in your car or something?”
“What?” Tom scrubbed a hand over his face, still clearly shocked and confused. “What do you- Jesus, no. You think I’d bring a girl back to your parents’ beach house, Y/N?” He finally looked at me, drops of water still catching on his long lashes. “You think I’d- hey, my jumper.”
“What?” I responded before looking down. Fuck. Me. Sideways. I was still wearing the UMass hoodie, the same UMass hoodie he’d given me last time I saw him. “Oh! Yeah, I… I brought it back to my place with me. And then Jordan called me and asked me to come here and it was right by the door, so I figured I’d… you know, bring it back here and… leave it… for you?” I was making it sound like a question.
Why was I making it sound like a question?
Are you having a fucking stroke? I asked myself as Tom blinked at me a few times, saying nothing. Lightning struck outside, momentarily blinding me as the lights flickered. Damn, losing power meant no Netflix. No Netflix meant Y/N’s chill weekend was about to go to shit. Technically, it already did because I 1) wasn’t even in my own home and 2) no longer feeling chill thanks to one british Tom.
“Jordan asked you to come?”
“Yeah, why?”
He looked around, peeking out the window. “Your parents called me and asked if I’d come make sure the house was secure.”
My parents? I was confused. Jordan specifically called me and asked me to go because he couldn’t. Why would my parents call Tom? Questions were flying through my head and I was already shrugging out of the hoodie, suddenly feeling like the material was too heavy, like I was drowning in it.
I held it out to him as he turned to face me again. “He probably didn’t call them to let them know I was coming, you know how he is.”
Tom smiled then, revealing straight white teeth. “Your brother’s a space cadet.”
That smile had my stomach doing backflips and I ached to calm down. It never used to be like this with him. He was cute, yes. Very. He was charming. He had nice looking hands. But he was Tom. He was Jordan’s Tom. He was the same Tom who fucked Missy Turner under the bleachers at the Homecoming game and the same Tom who let Rochelle Adams suck him off in the janitor’s closet during school. He was that Tom.
So why was I looking at him like he was Netflix and I’d had a long ass day?
I realized I was still staring, not saying anything. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here. We can kill Jordan, if you want. I feel like that’s good payback?”
Tom nodded, still smiling and playing along. “Yeah, we could. But then Leila would do away with us and I’m far too handsome to die this young.”
“True.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and jerked his chin at me. “And you… you have more of my jumpers to steal.”
I cocked my head to the side. “I didn’t steal it. If I remember correctly, you offered it to me.”
“I did.”
I was still holding the hoodie out to him. “Here.”
He made no move to grab it, hands still in his pockets. “Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”
My stomach dropped and I found myself speechless. “I… you sure?”
He nodded. “Yeah, no worries.”
I nodded my head, heat flooding my face as I looked down. What the fuck was going on with me? I didn’t act shy, not around other guys and definitely not around Tom. During college, I finally found my confidence sexually and I took hold of that. I was not the shy girl.
“Do you want to head out before the weather gets really bad?” I asked him
.As if on cue, thunder cracked loudly overhead, releasing a loud boom followed by flashes of lightning. The lights flickered again and Tom met my eyes across the room, blinking those chocolate pools at me. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere, darling.”
His voice was quiet, almost too quiet. I could have sworn I could hear the waves crashing against the shore, or maybe it was the blood rushing in my ears. We stood, staring at each other for a moment, and I opened my mouth to speak when there was a loud crash at the back of the house.
I jumped with a yelp, my heart slamming against my ribcage. “What the fuck was that?”
Tom moved past me, absentmindedly reaching out to touch my arm as he went. “Stay here, I’ll be back.”
Um, that’s what people say right before they murdered. Even though I had come to terms with the fact that I was irrational, I wasn’t going to take any risks. Turning, I followed close behind him, catching the earthy, musky scent of his soap. Or, was it his laundry detergent? I didn’t know, but I enjoyed it. He smelled woodsy, warm. Safe.
Back the fuck up I cleared my throat, telling myself not to look at the way the material of his jacket stretched across his shoulders. There was a small crash again as we made our way to the back door.
“It’s a shutter.” He laughed and opened the window, screaming wind filling my ears as he grabbed the shutter and slammed it, closing the window. Turning, he had a smug smirk on his face. “You’re a big baby.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “No, I’m not.”
He started to laugh, tilting his head back. “You screamed like a banshee.”
I flipped him off before turning my back on him, retreating as his laughter followed. “You’re a dick.”
My response only made him laugh harder.
Everything in the house seemed to be in order. The windows were shut and locked, the basement was set. The only thing that needed to be brought in was the outdoor furniture, but we needed the rain to let up a bit first.
When I walked back down the stairs after checking the second floor, Tom was rummaging through the kitchen. Seeing him there immediately brought me back to that night, the intimate conversation, the almost.
TWO MONTHS AGO
My parents had gone to bed nearly an hour ago and I was in my room listening to an old Rolling Stones record. Jordan was somewhere, possibly in his room with Leila and JJ, or possibly drinking down on the beach with Tom. It was one of the first weekends at the beach house, one of the first weekends of summer, and the air wasn’t thick yet. There was a breeze floating through the open windows and everything felt warm. New. The summer solstice was upon us and I lived for family weekends at the beach.
Funny thing about family weekends? Tom was there almost every single time.
“You’re still up?” I asked his back as I entered the kitchen, watching as he struggled to uncork a bottle of wine. He was wearing black basketball shorts and his old UMass hoodie, somehow still looking like an ad for an Abercrombie summer collection.
Tom sighed in defeat, slamming the bottle down on the granite countertop before answering me with a huff. “First weekend here and your brother’s already in bed.”
“Dad life.” I said with a laugh.
Tom smiled at the mention of our godchild. The day Jordan and Leila asked us to be godparents I’d been so emotional I cried for nearly an hour and, though I knew he wouldn't admit it if pressed, Tom was emotional about it, too.
“I love that little monster.”
I reached out, taking the bottle and finessing the cork for a moment before it finally released with a soft pop. “Jesus, Tom, you need to be slow with her. Gentle.” I chided as I reached into the cabinet, producing two glasses.
He took the bottle in a wide palm, tilting it to fill a glass before passing it to me. “I don’t know, she doesn’t like it too gentle.”
I rolled my eyes even as I felt my heart speed up. “Are we still talking about wine, or has the conversation moved to your latest conquest?”
Tom put a hand over his heart and threw his head back as if he’d been shot. “For your information, there hasn’t been a so called conquest in over a month.”
I feigned shock. “Over a month? Tommy, are you feeling alright?”
I was still laughing, but Tom paused to glare at me for using his little nickname. He hated being called Tommy and always had, but for whatever reason he never corrected me, never told me not to call him that. He’d glare, sure, but he never told me to stop.
“Feeling just fine, love.” He took a sip of the cool white wine, his brown eyes looking at me over the delicate crystal glass he held. “Fancy going outside for a bit?”
We were the only two left awake. I could faintly hear the pitter patter of feet upstairs as Jordan or Leila hushed a crying JJ, and then looked at Tom. “Yeah, let’s go.”
And that’s how we ended up on the back porch, the sound of the sea crashing against the shoreline as a soundtrack for our conversation. The wind had picked up but other than that the world was silent. It was just the two of us, and after not seeing each other for so long it felt like there was a million things to catch up on, yet I didn’t know where to start. I could ask him about graduation or what it was like to live in a big city, but in the grand scheme of things did those questions really matter? Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the atmosphere. But I wanted to know about Tom, about how he was doing, how his life was. If he was happy.
If he was single.
The thought was fleeting yet it caught me off guard nonetheless. I had no reason for caring if Tom was single, but there I was wondering if he was. He had changed over the two years I was away, his eyes sharper, his jaw more defined and making him look older. Still five eight but no longer the skinny boy he used to be. There was more definition to his arms, his chest a bit more puffed up. I took in the breadth of his shoulders and the slope of his neck, too caught up in staring at him to notice that he was actually speaking to me.
“What did you say?”
He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Daydreamer. Are you listening to me at all?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry!” I laughed, draining my glass and then reaching for the bottle. “This wine goes right to my head. I’m all ears, what were you saying?”
He grabbed the bottle from me, refilling his own glass. “I was asking you about being home. Are you and… Bryan… Bobby… doing the long distance thing?”
“His name is Ben, and no.”
Tom snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Ben! That’s right, Boring Ben.”
I wanted to defend my newest ex, but I couldn’t. He truly was one of the most boring, insufferable people I’d ever been around. We dated for the last two years of college, maybe out of convenience, or maybe because it was because I’d gotten comfortable. People assumed we would get married, but the thought of walking down the aisle to him made me sick to my stomach. We literally had nothing to talk about, his friends didn’t like me, and the sex was mediocre at best, leaving me disappointed with myself for getting so comfortable that I was settling for bad sex.
I took a sip of my wine, looking down at the glass for a moment.
“I… what did you just say, love?”
I furrowed my eyebrows, confused.
“Did you just say that you settled for bad sex with Boring Ben?”
What? What? It was quite possibly the biggest mistake I’d ever made, saying those words aloud. But it all honesty I didn’t think I’d said anything. I wasn’t drunk, definitely not drunk enough to make that sort of slip.
I was mortified.
My eyes widened as I looked at Tom. My face and ears felt hot and I tried to sputter out an apology. “Holy shit. Tom, listen, I didn’t mean to say any of that out loud. I-”
“Stop.”
I paused, my heart hammering in my chest. He leaned forward slightly, placing his glass on the table as he regarded me seriously. “You didn’t mean to say any of it out loud. But you were thinking about the bad sex you settled for?”
I took in his words and felt my face heat even more. It sounded pathetic, embarrassing, but I was so focused on school that the relationship had taken more of a backseat. It was nice to have someone at the holidays and during family and university events. It was nice to not feel so alone in California while my friends and family were three thousand miles away. It was all… nice. Convenient. Words that shouldn’t always be associated when regarding a relationship.
But it was my truth. Ben was boring, I was settling, we got stuck.
“Can we pretend this never happened?” I blurted the words out, hoping Tom would be agreeable. If he told Jordan they would rag on me for the rest of my life and having to suffer through it now was bad enough.
“I don’t think I can do that, darling.” He was already shaking his head and my stomach was sinking. “Because it breaks my heart that you settled for less.”
I didn’t know what to say, caught off guard by Tom’s soft tone and sweet words. I shouldn’t have zeroed in on him calling me darling, but I couldn’t help it. He’d never done that before.
Ever.
I shivered, not knowing if it was from the breeze or the way he was looking at me, but he noticed. Quirking that one, whacky eyebrow at me, Tom asked, “Are you cold?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, the wind is picking up.” I rubbed my hands over my arms.
Tom stood, reaching a hand behind his back in between his shoulder blades, pulling his hoodie off. I tried to avert my eyes as the front of his shirt rose, revealing a strip of skin above his shorts. I couldn’t help but stare at the defined V of his hips or notice the way his ab muscles contracted with every movement.
He handed me the sweatshirt with a boyish smile on his face. “Take it. I’m hot anyway.”
You have no idea, I mused silently, thanking him and slipping the material over my head. It was soft, worn, the inside of it felt warm from his body heat. I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted the material, pulling the hood up so that it framed my face.
“Looks good,” he quipped.
I smiled, taking a very large sip of my wine, thinking I was out of the clear.
“So how bad was it?”
I nearly spit the wine out at the question. “Excuse me?”
“The sex.” He deadpanned. “How bad was it?”
If I was the fainting type I would have been on the deck floor. “Tom, I’m not fucking telling you about my sex life.”
“Sounds like a LACK of a sex life, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you.”
He smiled, but it quickly faded as he regarded me seriously. “Really, Y/N, how bad was it?”
I wanted to blame my honesty on the alcohol or the late hour, but really I think I just wanted someone to talk to. Someone to confide in. Tom may have been an asshole playboy to some, but never to me. Thinking back on it, he may have even been a gentleman to me. Sure, he would annoy me when we were kids and barge into my room without knocking, or he’d go through my purse looking for gum, and there was the time he accidentally ate my birth control thinking it was a mint.
But Tom was also the guy who punched my high school boyfriend in the teeth for dumping me the night before Homecoming. He was also the guy who made an obnoxiously huge sign with Jordan for my graduation. He was that guy.
“It wasn’t… bad.” I found myself starting to open up a bit, pulling at a thread that was sure to unravel if I didn’t stop soon. “It was just routine. It was always the same thing, Ben wasn’t very adventurous. He didn’t like to try things, he hated anything new. He was just…” I took a breath, trying to choose my words carefully. “Set in his ways, I suppose. And that didn’t work for me anymore.”
“So, you ended it?”
I nodded, draining my glass once again. “Yeah, and that was when he showed his true colors.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
I thought back to the breakup. We’d been in Ben’s truck and it was raining. We were parked at a diner that was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. “He confronted me. He knew I was acting weird and he refused to drop it until I told him. I tried to explain that it wasn’t him, that I felt we just weren’t compatible. Ben lost his fucking mind. He was screaming at me about how he had all these plans for us, how I was fucking things up.” I paused, thinking back on the way he looked at me, like I was trash. “He called me a cunt, told me to get out of his car, and then I walked two miles back to my apartment.”
Tom’s eyes widened at my admission. His cheeks were tinted pink and I assumed it was from the booze, but when his mouth pulled into a tight line I realized it was because he was angry. I’d even say he was pissed. “He what?”
“I know, I know, it was a shitty thing for him to do. But the thing is, I’m not even all that upset about it anymore. I finally got to see who he really was and, oddly enough, the only thing I felt on that two mile walk was relief. It was finally over, it was like Ben was my last attachment to California. I could finally come home.”
He was silent for a moment, taking a sip of his wine before speaking. “Do your parents know about what happened with Ben? Does Jordan?”
I shook my head.
“Then why tell me?”
Our eyes met, held. Tom’s face held a look of concern, confusion, and something else. Something I couldn’t quite place. He was leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees as we stared each other down.
“Because honesty comes easier when it’s dark out, Tommy.”
He swallowed, not looking away from me. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears, the wine making my lips tingle with the familiar buzz. Everything suddenly felt hot, burning hot, like it was on fire. Like the whole world was about to go up in flames.
Maybe mine was.
“I won’t tell them.”
“I know you won’t.” I reached out, gripping his hand. “You’re a good guy, Tommy.” I gave his hand a quick squeeze, meaning to let go, but then his long digits were wrapping around the back of my hand and it suddenly felt like we were magnets. I couldn’t let him go. His skin was warm, somewhat calloused against the soft skin of my knuckles.
His voice was so soft and quiet when he finally broke the silence, I had to lean in to hear him. “Y/N, what were those things you wanted to try?”
“Huh?” I felt as though I was in a trance.
“You said Boring Ben never wanted to try new things. What were they? He raised his eyebrows expectantly, fingers still stroking over the back of my hand.
It felt like a distraction, a very chaotic, overstimulating distraction. It was the smallest, simplest of movements, but feeling his fingers dance across my skin was hypnotic, and it was only my HAND. But I couldn’t ignore the question and it made my stomach turn. I didn’t want to tell him the things I wanted to do with Ben, the different versions of sex I wanted to explore more of. Sure, I tried things with different people before Ben and I got together, but it had been so long. So long since I got the attention I was craving.
So long since I’d done something reckless and new.
So long since I’d been touched by hands that were actually interested in making me feel more than a grip.“Tom…” I breathed out his name, suddenly overwhelmed. The scent of him was on the sweatshirt I wore and I could feel his knee bump mine as he moved closer.
“Tell me. I can keep a secret, love.” His words were hushed, quiet as he leaned just a little closer, our faces mere inches apart.
“I…” I started, my eyes flickering down to his lips before moving back up. Tom saw the movement, his lips curling slightly. “I wanted… something new.”
“Something new or someone new?” Tom responded.
“I don’t know.” I answered honestly, feeling his fingers tighten around mine.
“I think you do. I think you know exactly what you want, Y/N, you just need to say it.” He leaned even closer, his nose brushing mine, and when I went to back up he brought his free hand around and reached into the sweatshirt, knocking the hood off and cupping the back of my neck, his hand gentle but firm, kneading the soft skin where my neck met my shoulder. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” I gasped, suddenly struggling to breathe, overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events.
“Then tell me what you want. Say it.”
I was so wrapped up in Tom, in the moment, that I didn’t care about anything. Fuck the neighbors, fuck Boring Ben, fuck my family that was literally sleeping only feet away in the house. I wanted Tom. I wanted new. I wanted him to touch me the way he touched the girls who told stories about him. I wanted him to kiss me like he’d die if couldn’t.
“I want y-”
“Y/N? Tom?” a soft, sleepy voice came from just inside the house.
We sprang apart like we’d been electrocuted, Tom standing and walking to the edge of the porch while I pulled the hood back up, trying to look nonchalant and failing beautifully just as Jordan poked his head out from the screen door. “What are you two doing up?”
Tom didn’t answer, still looking out towards the path that led to the beach. “We couldn’t sleep, figured we’d devour a bottle of wine and then crash.” I laughed even though I felt anything but amused, standing up and heading over to the door. “I’m gonna try to sleep, though. I’ll see you both in the morning?” I brushed past Jordan, standing up on my tiptoes to hug him before turning to Tom, who had finally turned around. The look on his face was strained and frustrated, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
God, he was so far from the boy I used to know.
“Goodnight, Tommy.”
PRESENT
“Earth to Y/N.” Tom waved a hand in front of my face, laughing. “You with me?”
I shook my head, pulled out of that very intimate memory. “What? Yeah, sorry. It’s been a long week.” I laughed and tried to play it off like I was fine, but my stomach was turning in knots. We’d both slept under the same roof before, hundreds of times, but now things felt different. Heavy. It was like I’d spilled something last time and there was still a stain that wouldn’t come up no matter how hard I scrubbed.
“You have your pick of bedrooms.” I said casually. “Jordan’s, my parents’, the guest room. Whatever you want.”
Whatever you want. It was an unintentional double entendre, but I noticed the way his eyes darkened slightly.
“Where are you sleeping?”
“My room.” I clarified.
He nodded his head, moving around the center island as he shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it over the back of the couch. “Y/N, can I ask you a question?”I shrugged my shoulders.
“Go for it.”
He looked at me then, his jaw clenched as he braced his hands on the back of the sofa, fingers spread in a way that looked almost vulgar. “Why the fuck are you looking at me like you’re scared I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”
“I’m not.” I started to defend myself, straightening my spine. “I’m just freaked out because of the rain.”
“Bollocks. You’ve loved the rain since we were kids.”
I shook my head, sensing the anger in his tone. “Don’t do this whole angry british thing tonight, Tom. I’m in a mood.”
“Clearly.”I narrowed my eyes at him, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“My problem?” He huffed at me, his cheeks flushed. “You’re the one who can barely look me in the eye, Y/N. So, you tell me what the problem is.”
“I don’t have a problem.” It was a lie. A blatant lie. But I wanted to move past whatever this was with him. I had to move past it. I couldn’t crush on my brother’s best friend. I read those books. I saw those movies. It would ruin everything.I had finally come home, had finally gotten my old life back. No matter how much I wanted Tom- and believe me, I fucking craved him- I could never have him. He would always be just out of my grasp.Which was a good thing.
“Okay, you don’t have a problem. That means we can discuss what happened last time we were here, yeah?”
I froze, no words coming out of my mouth. He said the words so casually it was as though he was talking about the weather. “I... “ I was struggling, slipping, losing my composure. “I don’t know-”
Tom was shaking his head, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Don’t even fuckin’ say it, Y/N. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Tom looked at me, eyes blazing. “You wanted it, I know you did. I felt it.”
My breathing was labored as I blinked at him. I had no idea how to respond. I didn’t want to acknowledge what happened, I wanted us to forget it and move on. It was a moment of weakness, it was late.
“It was the wine.” I said quietly. “We were drinking. W-we weren’t thinking straight.”
“It was the wine.” He repeated my words, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at me. “It was the wine.. That’s a joke, innit?” When I didn’t respond, Tom walked over to me, the tips of his sneakers touching the tips of my bare toes. “The truth is, Y/N, you didn’t drink that much. Neither did I. I knew exactly what I was saying to you and I was sober enough to see your reaction.”
“Tom-”
“Why won’t you be honest with me?” Tom’s voice was so soft it felt like a blanket.
The question felt like a knife to the gut? He was right to be confused. I never had any issue speaking my mind with Tom, with Ben, with anyone. I was opinionated, I said what was on my mind. But I was completely frozen with him. I just couldn’t push the words out of my mouth, couldn’t tell him that all of this was killing me, draining me. I couldn’t be open and honest and tell him that I’d spent the last two months thinking about him. That it never stopped. That the smell of him was haunting me, the feeling of his fingers on my skin was a memory I wanted to drown it. Tom had been in my life for over a decade.
Why now?
As if God was finally on my side for once, we were interrupted by the sound of furniture scraping across both the front and back decks. “My parents are gonna kill me if we lose any of those deck chairs.”
He stared at me for a moment and said nothing, his eyes searching my face. Eventually, he took one step back, seemingly giving up
.I hated the relief that went through me. But more than that, I loathed the disappointment that tugged at my heartstrings. I felt his eyes on me as I walked to the front door, pulling open the door and bursting outside with a deep breath, appreciating the way the rain hit my skin. I needed to cool down.
We were both silent as we got the stuff from the front and put it in the living room, turning the normally spacious room into nothing more than a cramped closet. Then came the back of the house, something that would be more difficult. The furniture was heavier, we had to walk up and down stairs, the thunder was clapping so loud I feared I’d go deaf.
I glanced up at Tom as he bounded down the porch steps. His shirt was completely soaked, the white material now stuck to his skin, nearly transparent. I could make out the tight muscles of his shoulders and the way his back tapered down to a lean waist.
Stop, stop, stop. I was screaming at myself, my feet slipping in my flip flops. I angrily kicked them off and then stormed down the stairs, suddenly furious about the rain and having to come to the beach house, and I was angry at Tom for not leaving well enough alone. More than that though, I was angry at myself for letting any of it happen in the first place.
He was dragging chairs by me when I stopped and wheeled around, facing him. “Why would you go and do this now?” I had to shout to be heard over the rain. “Why couldn’t you just leave it alone?”
Tom paused for a moment, his jaw clenched, rain dripping down his face. Releasing the chairs, he slicked his hair back. “I… I don’t know. Okay, I don’t bloody know, Y/N. I saw you here for the first time in two fucking years, and I missed you. I missed you so fucking much and I didn’t even know it. And then you were here and I couldn’t get enough of you. I wanted to catch up, I wanted to talk. I wasn’t even going to try anything, not that night, but then you mentioned Ben and everything you didn’t do with him, and I just couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry, alright? I am. But I’m not gonna sit here and play this bullshit game with you. You let me in that night and you can’t take it back.”
You let me in that night and you can’t take it back.
His admission left me stunned. He looked vulnerable and honest, the words heartfelt. I knew he meant all of it, that he didn’t mean for anything to happen that night. Not that anything really happened, but it felt as though that conversation changed everything. There was a shift, one that neither of us could stop.
“It doesn’t matter.” I finally responded, my voice laced with disappointment. “We can’t do this, Tom. Whatever that night was, whatever that conversation was, it has to stay there. It has to stay in that night.”
“I can’t fucking do that!” He shouted, the rain still pouring down around us. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend I didn’t feel something, Y/N.”
I was aching for him to stop. I knew he meant all of it, that he wasn’t trying to play me or hurt me. Tom would never risk saying the things he said if they weren’t at least party true.
I was beyond frustrated as I turned, grabbing more things to bring inside. Tom was huffing and puffing ahead of me, mumbling to himself. He was clearly angry, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. We were both soaked from head to toe, my feet bare against the deck as we lifted the glass table, maneuvering it up the stairs to the back of the house.Tom’s eyes were on me the whole time and I was too cowardly to look in his direction. Carrying that heavy glass table while thunder roared and lightning flashed was stressful, to say the least. But I didn’t even care about the storm, I cared about the absolute hurricane that was my situation with Tom. I wanted to fix it, needed to.
“Why are you so stubborn?”
His question caught me off guard. We’d put the rest of the furniture away and I was outside searching for one missing flip flop, rain hitting me sideways as I turned to stare at him. He was leaned against the door frame, arms crossed with that white shirt sticking to him like a second skin. I could make out the line of the chain he wore, could see where it fell against his chest. Tom looked like the cover of a romance novel, a few stray curls falling around his forehead. Even in my terrified, angry confusion, my attraction to him was undeniable.
“I’m not being stubborn. I’m being smart. What, you want me to admit that I’m attracted to you? Fine, Tom. I am. But attraction doesn’t change things. We can’t cross that line, now will you please help me find my other flip flop?”
“Jesus.” He stormed past me, pointing a finger in my direction as he went. “This conversation’s not done.”
I shouted his name as he walked back down the stairs in no urgency because he was already soaked. His jeans sat low on his hips, probably weighed down by the water as he bent down, pulling something from one of the hedges at the end of the property. My flip flop. Turning, Tom walked back up the stairs slowly, purposefully, his stance all man and making me feel very, very small. I was waiting at the top when he finally stepped up, crowding me, holding my shoe in his right hand. Our chests were touching, just slightly, and I could feel my nipples harden from the slight contact.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, reaching to grab it from him.
Only to have Tom pull it towards him, away from me. “Have you thought about kissing me?”
“What?”
“Have you thought about me touching you?”
“Tom…” I backed up three steps with him following my movements, keeping us close, chest to chest.
“Those things you wanted to try, have you thought about trying them with me? Because, fuck, I’ve thought about you.”
His admission made me weak, my breath catching in my throat. We were getting close, so dangerously close to something we couldn’t turn back from.
“I’ve thought about you every day. I’ve thought about your eyes and your mouth and the way you look in my fucking jumper.” Tom’s hands grabbed my face roughly, cupping my cheeks, fingers tangling in my hair.
He was holding me there as my breathing went ragged, our eyes finally meeting. His pupils were blown out, water dripping down the bridge of his nose
.It was all so intense. It was overwhelming. I wanted him so bad it was physically starting to hurt, my hands going up and gripping his wrists, prepared to pull his hands away. “You are… so fucking infuriating.” I was breathless, weak, but I still noticed the smile that pulled at his lips.
“Darling, I’m a fucking devil.”
I knew what was coming, knew I should pull away, but as soon as his lips came down on mine in a bruising, hard kiss, I knew I was gone.
Tom’s lips were hard, demanding, his tongue eagerly licking at the seam of my mouth and begging for entry. His hands still held my face hard enough to prevent me from backing up, but even if he let go I knew I’d stay, the brief taste of his lips so intoxicating it felt like I was in a trance.
He pulled back, his eyes opening. Our noses still touched and I could feel his breath fan across my lips. Our eyes met and for the briefest moment I thought he was going to pull away, but he spoke instead.
“What do you want, Y/N?”
I paused, my throat dry and my breathing ragged. I couldn’t lie anymore, to Tom or myself, so I opted for honesty instead. “You, Tom. I want you.”
That was all he needed to hear before his mouth was on mine again. He slanted his lips over mine, tilting my head back. When our tongues touched I felt like my body was on fire and I couldn’t help but wonder why we hadn’t done it sooner. Tom tasted like mint, like a secret, like my deepest, darkest fucking fantasy.
All of a sudden he was pushing us, walking forward while I stumbled back, our mouths still fused together as he let out a soft groan. I wanted so badly to memorize the sound, to hear it again, but I was too focused on not falling over. Something sharp dug into my back and I winced, gasping into Tom’s mouth.
“What the fuck was that?” I gripped my side and turned. The doorknob.
“Shit,” he muttered, reaching to lift at the edge of my shirt. “Is it going to leave a bruise? Let me kiss it better.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed, opening the door and ushering him inside. “I’m fine. Really.”
“No.” Tom’s hands gripped my hips. He was looking at me with mischief in his eyes and it made my stomach do a backflip. “Really, love, let me kiss it better.” I felt his fingers skim over my bare flesh as he dragged the wet material of my shirt up and over my head, dropping it to the ground.
My chest was heaving as he looked me over, eyes zeroing in on my breasts. I was wearing a simple black lace bra, nothing fancy. But Tom was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and my heart swooned.I thought he was going to kiss me again, but instead he sank to his knees and my breath caught in my throat as he looked up at me. I was wearing my shorts, my underwear, and a barely there bra while Tom was still fully dressed. I felt vulnerable, small, but in that moment I fucking loved it.
Tom’s breath fanned over my hip as he kissed the spot where the doorknob had jammed into me. “Better?” he asked, looking up at me through thick, dark lashes. All I could do was nod, and his smug smile told me everything I needed to know; Tom knew exactly what he was doing.
His hands skimmed over the backs of my thighs, traveling down. When his fingers touched the backs of my knees they wobbled, and I knew he felt it. “This alright?”
I nodded my head, reaching one hand out and tangling my fingers in his wet hair, feeling his head nudge into my touch. “Use your words, Y/N.”
“It’s okay.” I managed to gasp out. He’d barely touched me, barely kissed me and I was still completely breathless.
“Do you want more?”
"Fuck." I gritted my teeth, suddenly frustrated he was moving so slow. "Yes."
He smiled, soft lips trailing over my hip, his teeth biting at the denim that hugged my skin. "How about we play a game?"
I huffed, my fingers stilling in his hair. "I'm not in the mood for games, Tom."
He stood then, nails lightly scraping up the sides of my legs and making my skin break out in goosebumps. Every single part of me was ignited and I was on sensory overload. "What if I promised you win this game?" He kissed my shoulder, one hand trailing over my side and traveling up my back, tracing my vertebra. "What if I told you that you win quite a few times?"
I gasped, drunk on his words as he leaned in, kissing me again just as he reached up and unclasped my bra. The straps fell down my shoulders slowly and as his lips grazed mine I reached bed between us, tugging the rest of the material down.
Like any straight, hot blooded male, Tom leaned back and looked down, taking in my naked breasts. "Shit," he breathed, leaning down and sliding his tongue over the curve of one globe, mouth warm and tongue wet. I was already arching into his touch when his mouth closed over my nipple. I thought he’d be gentle, thought he’d start slow, but he sucked HARD, yanking my nipple to the roof of his mouth until I yelped.
Tom groaned against my skin, releasing me with a pop. “Mhm, I liked that sound. Didn’t picture you as a screamer.” He smirked at me, his mouth red and his lips swollen.
I laughed and leaned in, my arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as we stumbled through the dining room. “Yeah? You’ve been thinking about the sounds I make?” I licked a fat stripe up Tom’s neck, feeling him shiver against me.
“I’ve thought about much more than that.” He grabbed me by my hips, now in the kitchen, and lifted me, my ass landing on the counter as the wind howled outside.I watched, mesmerized as Tom lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest. His abs were hard, tight, and I wanted to leave hickies scattered across his collarbones.
“I’ve thought about you. Here.” He tapped one finger against the countertop. “And I thought about what it would be like to fuck you while everyone slept upstairs.” He took a step forward, his hands going to his jeans, fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper. “Me, telling you to be quiet, putting my hand over your mouth.”
Tom’s long fingers reached out, sliding over my chin, across my cheek. When they traveled over my lips I couldn’t help but poke my tongue out, tasting the tips of his fingers. He stopped for a moment, leaving them there, eyes glued to my mouth as I repeated the motion, this time holding eye contact as I tipped my head back, letting his index and middle fingers dip into my mouth, my tongue wrapping around them and sucking softly.
His hand twitched slightly, I felt it, and I smiled around his fingers, groaning softly when he pulled back. The truth was, I wanted them deeper. So much deeper.
“Fuckin’ minx.” Tom’s voice was rough and his hands were the same, gripping my thighs hard and pulling me to the edge of the counter. My legs hugged his slim waist, my hands settling on his chest. “You want me to fuck you, Y/N?”
I nodded my head. Consequences be damned.“Fine. I’ll fuck you any way you want. But you have to tell me one of those things you wanted to try first.”
“Tom…”
“C’mon.” His voice was soft, smooth. Charming. When he spoke again his accent was thicker and I physically throbbed for him. “Give me a little bit, love.”
“I…” I started, suddenly very self conscious of my own sexual desires. It was different when I was having sex with Ben because it was always the same thing, and it was different sleeping with a stranger because I’d never have to see them again. But I would have to face Tom in the morning and every day after that. I didn’t want his opinion of me to change. “I want to suck your fingers while you fuck me.”
The words were so soft I wasn’t even sure he heard me. He was silent, eyes staring at my mouth before looking up, meeting my gaze. “That’s it? That’s what you were so nervous to tell me?”
I shook my head, unable to help myself from laughing. “Oh, man. No, you have no idea how many things I want to try. We’re just not there yet.”
Yet.
Why was I implying that it was going to happen again?
Tom’s hands were sliding up and down my thighs while my ankles were locked at his waist, his fingers eventually popping the button and zipper while I waited for his response. “You like hands?” When I nodded he continued. “You like my hands?” As if to emphasize, he slapped one hand roughly over the side of my thigh and I jumped.
He shushed me, pursing his lips softly. “Relax, darling. We’re about to have fun.”
Without another word he unwound my legs and pushed his hands against my shoulders until I was laying flat against the cold quartz counter, arching my back and gasping. Tom hooked his fingers into my shorts and underwear, pulling both down and leaving me completely naked in one swift move. I felt vulnerable and open, but he quickly forced me to move past that as he spread my legs, his fingers splayed across my thighs.
His groan sent shivers through me.
“You’re like a fucking dream.” His words were hushed even though we were the only two in the house. “Oh, shit, did I just see you clench up for me?” His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as I threw my hands over my face, mortified and turned on all at once. He could see every part of me.
“Tom!” I practically shouted. If he didn’t touch me soon I was going to-
My body tensed up and every coherent through flew from my mind as Tom licked a fat stripe all the way from my ass to my clit, groaning and sending vibrations through me. My legs twitched and he repeated the motion, my nerve endings on fire.
Tom Holland’s head was between my fucking thighs.
His lips closed over my clit, sucking at the same time as he pressed his tongue flat against the bundle of nerves, and my hips pretty much lifted off the counter.
“Tommy!” I gasped, the sound ending on a choked moan as he looked up at me, brown eyes nearly black.
He pulled back for a moment and I could see his lips, glistening and wet from my arousal. “You know, you’re the only one allowed to call me that?”
My head lolled slightly and I looked at him, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair. “Why?”
“Because I like the way it sounds when you say it.”
His admission did something to my insides, made me just a little weaker for him. I was the only one allowed to call him Tommy, the only one to have that little nickname. Something possessive soared through my veins and I quickly sat up, seeing his shocked expression as the fingers that were in his hair traveled down, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him towards me, our lips attaching. I couldn’t stop fucking kissing him and when I tasted myself on his tongue I wanted him even more, sliding my tongue into his mouth and dominating the kiss.
“I wasn’t fucking done with you yet.” He spoke against my mouth.
“But you said this was about me trying things. There’s something I want to try, Tommy.”
His eyes shut briefly, his jaw clenched, concentrated. He was coming undone for me in the same way I was for him. “What’s that?”
I ran my fingers over his collarbones, tracing the delicate bones with my fingers. I was nervous, forcing myself to push the words out anyway. “You know how when you were in high school being sneaky and fucking in a girl’s parents house was fun? And, sometimes, when the parents weren’t around you and the girl would sneak up to her parents’ room?”
His laps traveled over my jaw, down my neck, and I felt him smile against my skin. “You want me to fuck you in your parents’ bed?”
My face heated and I nodded, burying my face in his shoulder.
Tom laughed softly, pulling back and helping me off the counter. I was acutely aware of the fact that I was completely naked while he still wore jeans and black Calvin’s but I no longer cared. In fact, there may have been a part of me that enjoyed the way I felt knowing I was the only one who was naked. It made me feel small, soft.
“What are ya’ waitin’ for then?” He arched a brow and nodded towards the stairs. “Move your ass.”
I practically sprinted past him, moving before he even finished speaking. His eyes were on me as I moved, my hips swaying a little more than usual. Tom was hot on my heels as I bounded up the stairs, one of his hands reaching out and giving my ass a swift, harsh slap. I welcomed the sting, pausing on the stairs and turning to look at him as a gasp escaped.
“I fuckin’ knew it.” He marveled, a smirk playing at his lips. “I knew you liked it a little rough.”
I began backing slowly down the hall, facing him. “Oh, you have no idea.”
He arched a brow, molten brown eyes looking me up and down. “Is that right? You feel like telling me any of those deep, dark fantasies, or are we not there yet?”
I couldn’t help but laugh as he threw my words back at me. “Not yet. I like surprising you.”
I stepped into my parents’ room and Tom followed suit, looking around as the wind rattled the glass windows.
The air suddenly felt thick. The king sized bed loomed behind me and it all felt real. Terrifyingly, brutally real. I was about to get into that bed with Tom, I was about to take a huge step off a very large cliff. Whether it was good or bad- although I prayed it would be good- didn’t matter. We would never be able to come back from this.
“Believe me, you’ve done nothing but surprise me tonight, Y/N.”
“I actually think it’s your turn.” I said with a small smile as I crawled onto the bed, looking at him over my shoulder.
Tom was too busy taking in the view of my naked backside to comprehend my question. “What?”
I sprawled out across the bed and rested my chin on my hand, looking at him. His jeans were undone and his hardened cock pressed almost painfully against the denim material. “It’s your turn. I’ve been very honest about what I want to try, but what about you, Tommy? What do you want?”
His eyes locked on mine and my breath caught as he moved forward. “I want you. I want you to say my name while you come, I want you to wrap those beautiful legs around me and squeeze whenever I go just a little too deep. I want to fuck you the way I’ve dreamed about fucking you since I was fifteen years old.”
His candid admission left a pang in my heart and I quickly tried to stifle it, leaning up as he leaned down, our mouths fusing together once again. It seemed that I couldn’t keep my mouth off his. Maybe it was because I had been fantasizing about that mouth for so long, maybe it was because Tom was just that good of a kisser, but either way I didn’t care.
“Fuck me. Now.” The words were mumbled against his lips.
Tom’s lips traveled down my jaw to my neck and he bit the skin where my shoulder and neck connected. His sopping wet jeans pressed against me and I hissed out a breath as he pulled back, laughing down at me. His brown hair had begun to curl at the sides and he looked boyish, young. His cheeks were flushed and I couldn’t even remember why I’d tried to fight my attraction in the first place.
He jumped off the bed and began the painstaking effort of removing wet denim.
“God… fucking… dammit!” I watched him struggle, biting back a laugh as he hopped around the room, kicking one leg free and then the other. When he looked back up at me his eyes narrowed and he glared. “Are you laughing?”I shook my head, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth.“You’re laughing at me right now.”
I shook my head, backing up on the bed as Tom came forward. “No, no I’m not. I’m-” I shrieked as his hand wrapped around my ankle and he dragged me down the matress.
I struggled against him as he leaned over me, covering his body with mine as his hands tickled at my sides. I gasped and laughed, nearly headbutting him at one point. “Tom, please, I was-wasn’t laughing.” I was trying to explain myself when his hips settled between my thighs, his hard cock pressing against my clit, right where I was aching for any kind of attention, or friction, I could find.
“You’re not laughing anymore,” he whispered against my mouth.
“Not really finding anything to laugh at right now.” My response was just as quiet, my fingers linking behind his neck as he braced a hand on either side of my head. Our eyes met as he ground his hips against me, my mouth falling open in a quiet moan as Tom settled on a good rhythm. He wasn’t even inside me yet and I was already on the edge, my thighs trembling as they squeezed his trim waist.
Tom seemed just as eager as I was, his arms wrapping around me and then unwrapping, hands trailing up and down my sides, over my breasts, gripping my thighs. My own nails scratched lightly over his shoulders and I reveled in the way he shivered on top of me. His breathing was heavy, chest heaving as I lifted my hips, grinding harder, needing more.
“I…I don’t…” Tom trailed off and I stopped my movements.
My heart sank at his tone. He was about to tell me he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t sleep with his best friend’s sister. I, of course, would be mortified and naked and ashamed as he got dressed to inevitably leave, where he would get into a car accident and die because there was a storm raging outside. And then I would have to explain to my parents and Jordan that I killed Tom because I-
“I don’t have a condom.”
What?
“What?”
“I don’t have a condom.”It was a split decision, and normally I would argue with myself about practicing the art of safe sex, but I had waited too fucking long for this and I was thankful that he wasn’t about to leave me naked in the middle of my parents’ bed.
“I’m on the pill.”
He arched a brow. “You’re cool with…”
I couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t seen him bashful very often, but I had to admit I found it completely adorable. “Tommy, I’m cool with anything that involves you being inside me.”
“Thank fucking god.” He sat back on his knees between my splayed thighs and I watched as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his briefs, shoving them down so that his cock sprang free, slapping up against his abdomen. My eyes widened as I finally got the first glimpse of what had been grinding against me for the last thirty minutes, of what I’d been dreaming about all summer. His cock was long, a pulsating vein across his shaft.
My mouth watered at the sight of the pre-come that gathered at his crown and I reached forward with every intention of wrapping my fingers around him. But Tom’s hand snapped forward and he grabbed my wrist, halting my movements.
“I want this to last longer than fifteen seconds and, honestly, if you touch me right now I’m going to fucking explode all over you like a fifteen year old .I don’t want to ruin this.”
I looked up at him. He was panting, his cheeks tinted pink. He looked rumpled, worked up, his eyes dark, and I’d never wanted him more. Leaning up, I gave him a quick kiss on the lips, darting my tongue out to taste his quickly. “Get on with it then.”
Tom smiled against my mouth and then he was pushing me down again, covering his body with mine. His skin was warm and the hair on his legs tickled my thighs, but all I could really focus on was the deep, intense throbbing that had settled low in my stomach. I actually feared that I would die or combust if he didn’t fuck me so-
Too wrapped up in my aching body, I didn’t notice that Tom had reached between us and lined himself up at my entrance. When I felt his knuckles brush against my swollen clit I stiffened, a weak whine leaving my mouth.“I want to hear that fuckin’ noice on repeat for the rest of my life,” he whispered against the damp skin at my temple.
I was about to open my mouth and give a half assed witty response when I felt his body surge forward, his cock sinking into me in one long, swift, nearly painful because it was so good move. I gasped, my thighs squeezing Tom’s hips and my nails digging into his sides.
His groan in my ear sent vibrations through me and I shook underneath him, trying to find my breath, trying to acknowledge the fact that it was Tom inside me. Tom Holland. My brother’s best friend. But at that moment in time someone could tell me I didn’t actually have a brother and I would have believed them. I would have believed the moon was actually made of cheese. I would have believed anything… because none of it mattered.
In that moment the only two people who existed were Tom and me. Just us and the storm. “Tommy.” My voice shook as he pulled nearly all the way out, just holding the tip of his cock inside me.
Tom looked down at me with his eyebrows furrowed, mouth hanging open. He looked serious albeit desperate and I could completely understand why. It felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room as soon as he pushed inside me. “You good? You need a minute?”
I shook my head. “You feel so good.”
Something snapped in him then. I watched it happen. His eyebrows relaxed, the hands that were on either side of my head clenched into fists, and his hips snapped forward as he pushed in to the hilt, repeating the motion twice more before a rough grunt escaped his lips.
I slammed my head back against the pillows as a moan tore from my throat. He’d barely been inside me two minutes and I already felt like I was on the verge of an earth shattering orgasm. But it was true. Tom had kept me riled up so long, far longer than just this messy afternoon. My body had been waiting for this for so fucking long.
Tom’s teeth sank into my shoulder. Hard. He didn’t let up until I yelped, and then he pulled back with a devilish smirk. “Look at you,” he said, breathing heavily as he lowered his head, our noses brushing. “Screaming underneath me whilst I fuck you in your mum and dad’s bed. So, so naughty.”
He was taunting me, teasing me, and his words spurred me on. My hips lifted, another rough moan leaving my mouth at the new angle.
Tom must have liked it too, because soon enough he was thrusting so hard it nearly hurt, so hard I swore I could feel him in my stomach.“You’re. So. Fucking. Perfect.” His voice was gruff, the words barely audible. Our moans and breaths mingled, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. It may have been pornographic, may have been downright filthy, but I was too far gone to care.
I was fucking drowning in Tom.
So close to coming harder than I had in my entire life.
When he reached between us to rub his thumb over my clit it felt like too much, my back arching as I shook my head. “Tom, Tommy… no. I-”
“Shhh.” Tom’s focus was between us as he looked down, sliding his now soaking wet digit over my clit again, reveling in the way I shook under him. “Been dreaming of this for years. For years, Y/N.” He was so transfixed on looking down at where we were joined, I truly didn’t know if he realized he was speaking. “Do you want to come on my cock, love?”
He looked up at me then, our eyes meeting. His pupils were so blown out there was barely any brown left. No longer able to form a coherent sentence all I could do was nod.
“Good.” He pressed his thumb against my clit, harder than before, and watched my face as a scream erupted from me.
“Tom!” I went to grab his hand and he quickly grabbed hold of it with his free one, slamming it down against the mattress near my head, resting his full weight on me.
“You’re going to come for me just like this. My cock inside you, my hands all over you.” He released the hand he was holding and grabbed a hold of my hair, yanking my head back in a move that shocked me. I hadn’t expected him to be so rough, but the move sent pleasurable shockwaves through my scalp and down my back. I felt him everywhere.
I was close, so fucking close, words and moans and broken pleas leaving my mouth. I wanted it so bad I could cry, my desperation palpable as Tom trailed rough, wet kisses down my neck, never once letting up on my clit as his hips pistoned forward in short, quick strokes. He was close too, I could feel it in the way his pace began to stutter, in the way his breath was hitting my neck.
I ran my fingers through his thick hair and his pace quickened. “Come, Y/N, please.” Tom’s voice was raspy and I knew he was serious. He was waiting for me, holding back for me, wanting to please me… and somehow that was everything I needed to finally let go.
My orgasm hit me like a freight train, knocking the wind out of me. I came with a silent scream, my mouth falling open with no sound coming out, my breath stuck in my throat as Tom’s grip on my hair tightened. Vaguely, I could hear his name coming out of my mouth on repeat, my entire body tensing up underneath him. It was like nothing I’d ever felt, like every nerve in my body was on fire.
“Fuck… fuck… fuck.” Tom’s back muscles tensed under my hands, his entire body going still as he held himself deep inside me. The feeling of his pulsating cock sent delicious aftershocks through me and I clenched around him, loving the small groan that erupted from him as he slowly relaxed, resting his full weight on me with a long, heavy sigh.
We lay like that for a few minutes, the thunder and wind having calmed at some point during our tryst. Tom was resting his sweaty forehead on my chest and I ran my fingers through his hair as I stared up at the ceiling. Everything would be different now, everything would change. But I was too lost in my post orgasm glow to care much about anything.
“Was that too rough?” Tom’s voice was soft, the question catching me off guard.
“What?”
He lifted his head to look at me, shifting his body weight as he examined my face. “Was I too rough? I get carried away sometimes, don’t always know my own strength.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. If he only knew half the things I wanted to do to him, or what I wanted him to do to me. Shit. He’d probably have me arrested. “No, Tom, no. Believe me, it was perfect.”
He arched in eyebrow in a cocky way that only Tom fucking Holland could do. “Perfect?” His accent was thick. “Just wait for round two.”
I was about to respond when he leaned in for a kiss, capturing my lips and holding me right there in that moment with him. It was crazy, it was stupid, it was reckless. And I didn’t give a flying fuck.
A noise from downstairs startled us and I jumped. “It was probably just the wind.” Tom reassured me.
I nodded my head, but when I heard the telltale sign of keys hitting the countertop my heart leapt into my throat. “Tom? Y/N? You guys here?”
Tom’s eyes met mine and in unison, we said, “Jordan.”
Oh, fuck.
#tom holland#tom holland smut#tom holland au#au#spiderman#avengers#peter parker#i feel like im gonna throw up#why am i so nervous about this
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oc master post for the earlier anon
long under the cut
BERNARD
bernard is the fourth child (2x twins) of a farmer.. his father and twin sister died in a hunting accident when he was three,
the first set of twins were aasimar, and 6 years older than bernard and his twin sister georgia. they both left when bernard was 6, but not before teaching him celestial
so he grew up with only his mother. his mother went through a lot of stuff after that, which resulted in, in order,
half-elf triplets (two girls and a boy) (misky (f) tayze (f) and beauregard (m))
a gold dragonborn foster child (cotalla)
a half-drow son (drixben)
tiefling twins (a girl and a boy) (diana (f) and johann (m))
a halfling stepchild (jessie, but theyre the same age as the triplets)
a half-orc daughter (tarora)
these kids didnt start coming around until bernard was six. so bernard’s mom (molly) had nine children over the course of nine and a half years, and then when bernard is sixteen, his mother dies because of a terrible illness. so now heres bernard, who had a steady boyfriend, and now bernard has nine children, all under the age of ten, two are under the age of five, and he just. he cant be dating right now. so instead, he joins the guards of sarenrae (essentially the army, bc bernard’s country is devoted to sarenrae) because the guards get a good pay and their children get a good education
(the thing is, though, bernard’s mother died surrounded by all of her children except for bernard, who only stepped away for a minute to get her a glass of water and she died while he was gone, and thats. thats the worst thing that’s ever happened to bernard)
so youve got bernard, who is quite possibly the kindest, sweetest guy in the world, hes a paladin of sarenrae, and every week he drags in his nine siblings to services, usually carrying five or six of them with the other three or four on toddler leashes so they dont wander off.
so bernard is just, doing the best he can, and five years after he joins the guard, he gets called away to go to war. hes got nine kids to take care of, only three are old enough to take care of the others, but misky, tayze, and beauregard are all much less trustworthy than bernard. they arent bad kids, by any mean, because they were raised by molly, who was the nicest woman in the world, and bernard, who is the nicest man in the world, so these are pretty nice kids. in game theyre considered to be chaotic good, but like. misky and beauregard arent above pickpocketing to survive, and tayze will only do things for his family.
bernard still goes, because bernard believes in sarenrae and believes in fighting the good fight. so he leaves the farm in the hands of the triplets and jessie, and after giving every single one of his kids a hug and a kiss, he goes out to fight the war. hes gone for three years.
when he comes back, tayze and misky are gone. all that beau and jessie will tell him is that the two of them are out on the ocean
(tayze and misky are pirates. they have shifted to chaotic evil and chaotic neutral, respectively. they make a good profit, and bernard’s hometown is fairly far inland, so they arent at great risk when they go home to visit, which they do once a year. they take tarora and the twins on a tour of the ship once and let them pretend to be part of the navy of sarenrae, even though the ship is very obviously a pirate ship.)
so now bernard is twenty-four, beau and jessie are eighteen. beau is terrible at farming, and he really doesnt like to do it, so beau moves to the middle of the nearest city and joins the thieves guild there. he does it on the DL tho bc bernard does not, precisely, approve of thievery. he tells bernard that he studies from the school of summoning (bc he summons things from other peoples pockets into his hands, and bc he makes things disappear) so bernard is very proud of beau. beau is proud of himself too, but he keeps lying about being a thief because bernard’s Disappointed look is a terrible thing to suffer. beau also has some fun with bands of roving thieves that try to attack the farm, because beau can use a scimitar like no ones business
jessie goes kind of the complete opposite direction. they leave the farm and head into the nearby woods, and they keep going north. they get to the northernmost part of the continent, and they just start. living there. so they become an ice druid, and they also get a moose companion that they name afeeha. jessie comes back south every so often, shows tarora and the twins how he can polymorph into a snowy owl. bernard is VERY proud of jessie for following his heart, and jessie is all ‘yes yes thank you, how are tayze misky and beau?’ because he is the ONLY one that knows everybodys secrets and he uses that to his distinct advantage
cotalla is fifteen at this point, and they go to a nearby city (not a big city or anything) and they join the bardic college there. they are very good at singing and playing the lute and other string instruments, but cannot play a wind instrument for the life of them. so cotalla becomes a bard of kord (the fightin’ god) and essentially, what that entails is cotalla sings a shitload of battle songs with the guards of sarenrae, and then gets nasty when the fighting gets to them. bernard is SO proud of cotalla, because cotalla kiiiiiiiiind of technically joined the military? and he really loves the guards of sarenrae, who helped give all his siblings basic education, so hes real proud that cotalla joined.
drixben, at this point, is thirteen, which is a bit young, honestly, for him to go to any college. he doesnt, really, actually, want to do much of anything. he visits beau sometimes, who is lying to everyone about being a wizard, so beau invites his warlock gf and bf over and lets them teach drixben about magic. this is a terrible idea, actually, because drixben kiiiiiiiind of sort of becomes a warlock. which, if you done know, is, like, he made a contract with an ancient bestial terror.
so beau and drixben are like, ‘okay, this is a Secret From Bernard’ (its mostly beau because he kind of ruined drixben, even though bernard would still love both of them) so now drixben has warlock powers but he doesnt really ever use them. so now drixben is kind of having. problems. with his powers.
diana and johann (yo-hahn, yes these two and bernard are the only ones in the world with normal names) are nine years old. so they dont do much. u know. they still have to go with bernard wherever he goes bc those two would definitely burn down the house if left alone
tarora is eight years old, and is kind of in the same boat as the twins. the thing everyone asks when they come back to visit bernard is ‘where are tarora and the twins’. at this point its tarora-and-the-twins as one word, and, honestly neither tarora nor the twins like that.
so you have
tayze, chaotic evil half-elf pirate (who loves her big brother to death)
misky, chaotic neutral half-elf pirate (who loves her brother but also is less mean than her sister)
beauregard, chaotic good half-elf rogue
jessie, true neutral halfling ice druid
cotalla, chaotic good dragonborn bard
drixben, neutral good half-drow warlock
diana, ??? tiefling
johann, ??? tiefling
tarora, ??? half-orc
bernard is very satisfied with his life. however, its at this point that the current king, who was a SUPER good dude, dies and gets replaced. not by his daughter, who was a super awesome girl, but by his sister in law, who is not so phenomenal. she kind of ruins the country, and the guards of sarenrae TECHNICALLY serve the goddess sarenrae, so theyre like, i will not serve you. and the new queen is like, i will not force you. and then she takes their families captive and is like, but i recommend you do because otherwise your families will die.
the queen does not manage to nab all nine of bernard’s siblings. she does nab tarora, diana, johann, and drixben, whereas jessie is too much trouble to get, beau is too damned sneaky, misky and tayze are already technically wanted by the crown (but they use stage names, at first because they didnt want bernard to know about how bad they were being, but now theyre like ‘yes!! we knew this would happen we are so smart’), cotalla is actually in a foreign country fighting a war, and then when the war is over, theyre like ‘no thanks’ and they just. dont come back.
so bernard leaves the farm. he puts his ex in charge and now hes traveling the country, searching for his family. hes no longer part of the guards of sarenrae, but he still considers himself a paladin, except he hates the government.
so anyway thats bernard and i love him.
ZYRICK
zyrick is a huma bard and he is 19. he was sold by his human noble grandfather (one Ryxal Corriendone) at the age of two in order for the corriendone family to escape their debts. however, zyrick’s twin sister zyra (zigh-ra vs zee-rick) was kept with her family. zyrick was sold to the master of a massive slave gladiator pit, known as Mr. Zalfroc. zyrick first became eligible for the fights at the age of 10, but managed to avoid the worst opponents by means of his skill with musical instruments. zyrick thus spent the majority of his time in the pits as a side attraction rather than a fighter, although he did not completely escape from the fights.
at the age of 17, zyrick finally ran away from the pits and mr. zalfroc in an effort to both find his family and to. well. yknow. escape the fucking gladiator pits.
after spending 15 years in an underground gladiator arena, zyrick kinda sorta hates nobles with all the hate in his body. both because mr. zalfroc constantly reminded him of what his family did, and also because of what he saw of nobles in the pits. he works REALLY REALLY hard to move past it though, because he wants to meet his family and he wants to know whats up with them and to tell them that he forgives them.
but he doesnt really know? where it is? and so he just wanders around, staying far away from mr. zalfroc’s circle of influence, and then some girl (who looks too much like him) runs up to him, with a bunch of her allies with her because shes got her own adventuring party, and she explains that she is zyra corriendone the second and that hes her twin brother, and he kinda gets tugged along with this girl to the corriendone estate, and its kind of a spooky affair, with zyra the second and zra the first (their mother) and ryxal corriendone, and their mother is a little lost after the trauma of losing her son, and ryxal is a little lost because hes old, but they both come into it when zyrick enters the estate.
and zyra i explains that hes her son, her beloved son, and then theres drama with ryxal and zyrick runs because he does NOT trust angry adult men. and zyra runs after him, and tries to explain that everythings alright, that he can live with them now and they can be family now, but then zyrick just explodes with all his anger. “they fucking kept you, zyra, but i wasnt fucking good enough. they took me away from my mother and my father- do i even fucking have a father? no, i fucking doubt it- but they kept you, they loved you, you got to grow up in this fancy fucking house reading your fucking books and taking fucking music lessons and praying to fucking pelor once a fucking week and wearing your stupid fucking pretty fancy clothes. and guess how i grew up? i fucking killed people, ive killed people and i bet youve never so much as gotten a fucking hangnail. i taught myself everything i fucking know and i clawed myself up from the mud more than once and i saw the worst fucking parts of you people, and i hate it. and you can never make me be one of you. im not a fucking blueblood.” and he runs.
and thats not really fair, because zyra ii has her own issues with growing up, but zyrick doesnt care about being fair when hes talking to his silver spoon sister.
zyrick very much puts up an airheaded, kinda stupid/floaty/happy-go-lucky personality, but rest assured: he is thinking about murdering you. every soft half-smile and chord strummed on his lute? thats him stabbing you in his mind. and he will kill you with great pleasure.
JYNXLUCK
jynxluck is a young-ish drow warlock and shes absolutely nuts. i mean off her fuckin rocker. mostly thats because she was kidnapped from her village by ghaunadaur-worshipping elves who decided to torture her into seeing visions of the future because of the drows rumored genetic dark magic. and then one day she woke up in captivity and discovered all of the elves were dead, and shes now on a quest to find whoever did that and thank them graciously. she is also chaotic evil and does everything in her power to make her visions come true. this often backfires.
jynxluck is chaotic evil, as opposed to bernard being lawful good and zyrick being chaotic good.
also jynxluck does not lie. shes kind of a fae creature in that trickery and wordplay is fine but lying? lying is uncool and the worst. but she will kill people when she thinks things are going badly. she is c-r-a-z-y. but no lying also means that jynxluck WILL tell you what she thinks of you. shes like a much worse-organized GLaDOS.
oh also she hates all wood elves and take a guess why.
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The forever fallacy
Last week, Ben Carlson from A Wealth of Common Sense published an interesting article about how staying rich is harder than getting rich. He writes:
Research shows over 50% of Americans will find themselves in the top 10% of earners for at least one year of their lives. More than 11% will find themselves in the top 1% of income-earners at some point. And close to 99% of those who make it into the top 1% of earners will find themselves on the outside looking in within a decade.
Its great that so many people get to taste what its like to earn a lot of money, if only for a little while. Whats not so great is that as most people earn more, they spend more. But if you spend all (or most) of what you earn as youre surfing an income bubble, you can find yourself in trouble when that bubble bursts.
Carlson quotes a story about a couple that lived a lavish lifestyle because they were making a lot of money. When the income dried up, they realized they had nothing left. They were broke. Says the husband: The money was just coming so fast and so easy that my ego led me to believe that, Oh, this is my life forever.'
Ive been thinking about that last line for a week now: This is my life forever. This couple fell for a common (but seldom examined) mental trap: the forever fallacy. The forever fallacy is the mistaken belief that you will always have what you have today, that youll always be who you are today.
The Forever Fallacy
Its easiest to see the forever fallacy at play in extreme cases. Take professional athletes, for instance.
In a 2009 Sports Illustrated article about how and why athletes go broke, Pablo S. Torre wrote that after two years of retirement, 78% of former NFL players have gone bankrupt or are under financial stress. Within five years of retirement, roughly 60% of former NBA players are in similar positions.
Fundamentally, the problem here is the forever fallacy. Athletes (and popular entertainers) tend to enjoy a few years during which they earn great gobs of money. The challenge is to figure out how to make five years of income last for fifty years. This never occurs to most of them. As the money is rolling in, it feels like the money will always be rolling in. When the income stops, the pain begins.
[A pro athlete] cant live like a king forever, says Bart Scott in ESPNs Broke, a documentary about pro athletes and their money problems. But you can live like a prince forever.
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The forever fallacy doesnt just trap athletes and entertainers and lottery winners. It snares average folks like you and me too.
Im sure weve all had friends who found themselves flush, whether from a windfall or from a raise at work. They succumb to lifestyle inflation, spending more as they earn more. They buy a bigger house, a new car, a boat. Then, without warning, something awful occurs and theyre no longer rolling in dough. It felt like the good times would last forever but they didnt.
The forever fallacy manifests itself in lots of little ways too.
When you choose not to keep an emergency fund because youve never needed one in the past, youre succumbing to the forever fallacy.When you take out a large mortgage, one that pushes the limits of your earning power, youre giving in to the forever fallacy.When you fund your lifestyle through debt, youre living in the forever fallacy.
The forever fallacy doesnt apply only to positive expectations. People also give in to the forever fallacy with negative expectations. Theyre trapped in a minimum wage job and project that theyll always be working minimum wage. Theyre in a shitty marriage and let themselves believe that theyll always be trapped in a shitty marriage. And so on.
The key thing to understand is that everything changes. You change. Your circumstances change. The people around you change. Nothing is forever. The challenge then is to balance this concept everything changes with living in the present. You must learn to enjoy today while simultaneously preparing for possible tomorrows.
Negative Visualization
One way to protect yourself from the forever fallacy is to play what if? games.
In A Guide to the Good Life by William Irvine, the author advocates a psychological exercise he calls negative visualization. Learn to ask yourself, Whats the worst that could happen?
The Stoicsrecommended that we spend time imagining that we have lost the things we value that our wife has left us, our car was stolen, or we lost our job. Doing this, the Stoics thought, will make us value our wife, our car, and our job more than we otherwise would.
Sounds a little gloomy, right? Irvine says thats not the case. Youre not meant to dwell on these things, but to occasionally ponder them as a thought exercise.
In my own life, I used to imagine what it would be like if I lost my job. I could always go to work at McDonalds, I thought. And I grew up in a run-down trailer house. Worst case, I could always live in something like that again. This line of thinking drove my ex-wife crazy but gave me comfort. I knew that if disaster struck, Id be fine flipping burgers and living in a trailer park. Ive done it before and can do it again.
Nowadays I challenge myself by thinking about what might happen if the stock market crashed or our house burned down. What would I do if I lost everything? Where would I go? How would I earn money?
The Stoics took this exercise even further. Seneca the Younger encouraged followers to live as if each moment were their last. But thats not to say that he wanted people to descend into debauchery. Heres how Irvine explains it:
Living as if each day were our last is simply an extension of the negative visualization technique: As we go about our day, we should periodically pause to reflect on the fact that we will not live forever and therefor that this day could be our last. Such reflection, rather than converting us into hedonists, will make us appreciate how wonderful it is that we are alive and have the opportunity to fill this day with activity. This in turn will make it less likely that we will squander our days.
Negative visualization is useful because it forces you to look beyond the here and now, to imagine other possible realities. It encourages you to consider that the future might not be a linear projection of the present. I think it can also help nudge a person to think about whats truly important in their life.
Too many people squander their days and their dollars. They spend their time and money on things that dont matter, not even a little. When you die, will you be glad you watched every episode of Game of Thrones? Or will you regret not having used that time for something better aligned with your passion and purpose?
Be Prepared
Perhaps the best way to protect yourself from the forever fallacy is to become proactive. Like a Boy Scout or a Girl Guide, be prepared to do the right thing at the right moment.
In the realm of personal finance, there are plenty of things you can do to be prepared.
Get out of debt and stay out of debt. As somebody who was deep in debt for almost twenty years, I now see that carrying debt is a classic expression of the forever fallacy. Its blind faith that youll be able to repay what you owe in the future.Maintain an emergency fund to handle unexpected problems such as car accidents and broken bones.Start an opportunity fund so that you can take advantage of the unexpected good things that come along, such as a chance to travel with friends or a great deal on a used pickup truck.Carry adequate insurance to protect yourself from catastrophic loss like earthquake, heart attack, or giant fire-breathing monsters from the sea.Boost your saving rate, the gap between what you earn and what you spend. This has a two-fold effect. A high saving rate helps you set aside more for the future, but it also makes you more resistent to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune today.Build social capital by creating a web of friends, family, and colleagues that you trust and support and who trust and support you.
The truth is youre never going to beat the forever fallacy and neither am I. Not completely, anyhow. Its simply human nature to extrapolate our present and past into the future. The best we can do is mitigate the trouble caused by this tendency.
Be Like Bond
Recently, Ive been reading the original James Bond novels by Ian Fleming. I like the books because the literary Bond is more realistic than the cinematic Bond; hes less of a superhero and more of an everyday person (who happens to be a secret agent). He eats too much, drinks too much, and can be a bit lazy at times.
Where Bond excels, however, is preparation. Hes always thinking a move or two ahead of his foes. He tries to anticipate what might go wrong so that he can take steps to prevent trouble. This doesnt mean that he always evades trouble thered be no drama if he did but his dedication to preparation helps him avoid some scrapes while also allowing him to sometimes survive certain death.
Bond does not suffer from the forever fallacy, neither in the short term nor the long. (He often wonders if hes near the end of his career, too old to continue working as a spy.) Wed all have greater success in life if we were more like James Bond, if we took precautions, if we didnt give in to the forever fallacy.
Accept the inevitability of change. Prepare for an uncertain future. Plan the best but be ready for the worst. Dont obsess over what might go wrong, but be aware of potential problems and plan for what youll do in a worst-case scenario.
https://www.getrichslowly.org/forever-fallacy/
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The forever fallacy
Last week, Ben Carlson from A Wealth of Common Sense published an interesting article about how staying rich is harder than getting rich. He writes:
Research shows over 50% of Americans will find themselves in the top 10% of earners for at least one year of their lives. More than 11% will find themselves in the top 1% of income-earners at some point. And close to 99% of those who make it into the top 1% of earners will find themselves on the outside looking in within a decade.
Its great that so many people get to taste what its like to earn a lot of money, if only for a little while. Whats not so great is that as most people earn more, they spend more. But if you spend all (or most) of what you earn as youre surfing an income bubble, you can find yourself in trouble when that bubble bursts.
Carlson quotes a story about a couple that lived a lavish lifestyle because they were making a lot of money. When the income dried up, they realized they had nothing left. They were broke. Says the husband: The money was just coming so fast and so easy that my ego led me to believe that, Oh, this is my life forever.'
Ive been thinking about that last line for a week now: This is my life forever. This couple fell for a common (but seldom examined) mental trap: the forever fallacy. The forever fallacy is the mistaken belief that you will always have what you have today, that youll always be who you are today.
The Forever Fallacy
Its easiest to see the forever fallacy at play in extreme cases. Take professional athletes, for instance.
In a 2009 Sports Illustrated article about how and why athletes go broke, Pablo S. Torre wrote that after two years of retirement, 78% of former NFL players have gone bankrupt or are under financial stress. Within five years of retirement, roughly 60% of former NBA players are in similar positions.
Fundamentally, the problem here is the forever fallacy. Athletes (and popular entertainers) tend to enjoy a few years during which they earn great gobs of money. The challenge is to figure out how to make five years of income last for fifty years. This never occurs to most of them. As the money is rolling in, it feels like the money will always be rolling in. When the income stops, the pain begins.
[A pro athlete] cant live like a king forever, says Bart Scott in ESPNs Broke, a documentary about pro athletes and their money problems. But you can live like a prince forever.
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The forever fallacy doesnt just trap athletes and entertainers and lottery winners. It snares average folks like you and me too.
Im sure weve all had friends who found themselves flush, whether from a windfall or from a raise at work. They succumb to lifestyle inflation, spending more as they earn more. They buy a bigger house, a new car, a boat. Then, without warning, something awful occurs and theyre no longer rolling in dough. It felt like the good times would last forever but they didnt.
The forever fallacy manifests itself in lots of little ways too.
When you choose not to keep an emergency fund because youve never needed one in the past, youre succumbing to the forever fallacy.When you take out a large mortgage, one that pushes the limits of your earning power, youre giving in to the forever fallacy.When you fund your lifestyle through debt, youre living in the forever fallacy.
The forever fallacy doesnt apply only to positive expectations. People also give in to the forever fallacy with negative expectations. Theyre trapped in a minimum wage job and project that theyll always be working minimum wage. Theyre in a shitty marriage and let themselves believe that theyll always be trapped in a shitty marriage. And so on.
The key thing to understand is that everything changes. You change. Your circumstances change. The people around you change. Nothing is forever. The challenge then is to balance this concept everything changes with living in the present. You must learn to enjoy today while simultaneously preparing for possible tomorrows.
Negative Visualization
One way to protect yourself from the forever fallacy is to play what if? games.
In A Guide to the Good Life by William Irvine, the author advocates a psychological exercise he calls negative visualization. Learn to ask yourself, Whats the worst that could happen?
The Stoicsrecommended that we spend time imagining that we have lost the things we value that our wife has left us, our car was stolen, or we lost our job. Doing this, the Stoics thought, will make us value our wife, our car, and our job more than we otherwise would.
Sounds a little gloomy, right? Irvine says thats not the case. Youre not meant to dwell on these things, but to occasionally ponder them as a thought exercise.
In my own life, I used to imagine what it would be like if I lost my job. I could always go to work at McDonalds, I thought. And I grew up in a run-down trailer house. Worst case, I could always live in something like that again. This line of thinking drove my ex-wife crazy but gave me comfort. I knew that if disaster struck, Id be fine flipping burgers and living in a trailer park. Ive done it before and can do it again.
Nowadays I challenge myself by thinking about what might happen if the stock market crashed or our house burned down. What would I do if I lost everything? Where would I go? How would I earn money?
The Stoics took this exercise even further. Seneca the Younger encouraged followers to live as if each moment were their last. But thats not to say that he wanted people to descend into debauchery. Heres how Irvine explains it:
Living as if each day were our last is simply an extension of the negative visualization technique: As we go about our day, we should periodically pause to reflect on the fact that we will not live forever and therefor that this day could be our last. Such reflection, rather than converting us into hedonists, will make us appreciate how wonderful it is that we are alive and have the opportunity to fill this day with activity. This in turn will make it less likely that we will squander our days.
Negative visualization is useful because it forces you to look beyond the here and now, to imagine other possible realities. It encourages you to consider that the future might not be a linear projection of the present. I think it can also help nudge a person to think about whats truly important in their life.
Too many people squander their days and their dollars. They spend their time and money on things that dont matter, not even a little. When you die, will you be glad you watched every episode of Game of Thrones? Or will you regret not having used that time for something better aligned with your passion and purpose?
Be Prepared
Perhaps the best way to protect yourself from the forever fallacy is to become proactive. Like a Boy Scout or a Girl Guide, be prepared to do the right thing at the right moment.
In the realm of personal finance, there are plenty of things you can do to be prepared.
Get out of debt and stay out of debt. As somebody who was deep in debt for almost twenty years, I now see that carrying debt is a classic expression of the forever fallacy. Its blind faith that youll be able to repay what you owe in the future.Maintain an emergency fund to handle unexpected problems such as car accidents and broken bones.Start an opportunity fund so that you can take advantage of the unexpected good things that come along, such as a chance to travel with friends or a great deal on a used pickup truck.Carry adequate insurance to protect yourself from catastrophic loss like earthquake, heart attack, or giant fire-breathing monsters from the sea.Boost your saving rate, the gap between what you earn and what you spend. This has a two-fold effect. A high saving rate helps you set aside more for the future, but it also makes you more resistent to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune today.Build social capital by creating a web of friends, family, and colleagues that you trust and support and who trust and support you.
The truth is youre never going to beat the forever fallacy and neither am I. Not completely, anyhow. Its simply human nature to extrapolate our present and past into the future. The best we can do is mitigate the trouble caused by this tendency.
Be Like Bond
Recently, Ive been reading the original James Bond novels by Ian Fleming. I like the books because the literary Bond is more realistic than the cinematic Bond; hes less of a superhero and more of an everyday person (who happens to be a secret agent). He eats too much, drinks too much, and can be a bit lazy at times.
Where Bond excels, however, is preparation. Hes always thinking a move or two ahead of his foes. He tries to anticipate what might go wrong so that he can take steps to prevent trouble. This doesnt mean that he always evades trouble thered be no drama if he did but his dedication to preparation helps him avoid some scrapes while also allowing him to sometimes survive certain death.
Bond does not suffer from the forever fallacy, neither in the short term nor the long. (He often wonders if hes near the end of his career, too old to continue working as a spy.) Wed all have greater success in life if we were more like James Bond, if we took precautions, if we didnt give in to the forever fallacy.
Accept the inevitability of change. Prepare for an uncertain future. Plan the best but be ready for the worst. Dont obsess over what might go wrong, but be aware of potential problems and plan for what youll do in a worst-case scenario.
https://www.getrichslowly.org/forever-fallacy/
0 notes
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