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solllaris · 4 years

Text

retrograde — 01

↳ here.

PAIRING: Frat!Tom / Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: It takes some convincing, but you ultimately agree to go to a frat party and are pushed out of your comfort zone in more than one way.

WARNINGS: language, underage drinking, anxiety/panic attacks, & insecure thoughts

WORDS: 5874

NOTE: This series is my baby so please be nice. The reader’s fears and anxieties are basically a reflection of my own, so posting this makes me feel super vulnerable. There were many moments I seriously considered deleting everything I had made for this series because I was too afraid to put myself out there like this, but obviously I didn’t. I really want the reader’s story to help someone or make them feel like they’re not alone because anxiety can make you feel so isolated at times. So to the person reading this right now, to the person with anxiety or depression or whatever: You are not alone. You will never be alone. And I hope this story shows you that somehow.

series masterlist — masterlist — add yourself to my taglist!

Tortoise shell glasses the color of honey inched their way down the bridge of your nose again and you would’ve been greatly annoyed if your glazed-over eyes weren’t focused on the large plastic cup of coffee on the table. Fingers still tensed and poised over the laptops keyboard, your attention had shifted for the millionth time to the dark browns streaking through the blonde colored liquid at the bottom and your fried out brain was mesmerized by it. Anything was more intriguing than the open, half-way completed book review on your computer screen where the blinking cursor taunted you from the corner of your eye. At your wits end, you turned away completely with a groan that you stifled with a hopefully motivating gulp of your iced cold brew swirled with caramel.

Shoving the frames further up your nose where they belonged, you nursed the straw of your coffee between your tongue and teeth and glanced briefly about the room. The Learning Commons was fairly full for ten in the morning, but you weren’t too surprised; it was the go-to place to go — not only to get coursework done, but also to just unwind and mess around. That Friday morning hadn’t been any different from the rest and bleary-eyed college students milled about, drinking their caffeine from the God-sent Starbucks in the building and chatting to their friends through sleepy slurs. For a person who really enjoyed people-watching, the Learning Commons was the prime place for you to spend most of your time. You blended in and fell into the shadows just as you liked.

Blinking twice, you realized you had zoned out again. Your vision focused and you saw you had been staring blankly across the room at a boy drooling all over his open textbook. His slackened grip around his mechanical pencil kept allowing it to fall over in his hand, rousing him each time for only a few seconds and then he was out cold again. The sight made you laugh under your breath and you impulsively tipped your head back onto your roommate’s thigh from where she was sprawled out on the couch behind you. Just as you wanted, Scout’s fingers that had been raking through your hair stilled to let you know you had her attention.

“Look,” You said loud enough for her to hear over the raucous youths around you and discreetly pointed across the way at the sleepy boy. “That’s about to be me if I don’t get this paper done soon, I swear to everything Holy.”

A snort exploded through her nostrils and your head jostled with the movements of her leg kicking the guy whose lap they rested in.

“Jude.”

Another harsh nudge to his thigh and the frustrated boy mashed a button on his video game controller, a ‘paused’ message appearing on the flat screen TV. A harsh, pointed look urged her to continue so he could get back to his game.

“That guy over there looks just like you.”

When you glanced back over, the drooling guy had completely given up on at least attempting to remain upright to look like he was getting work done. His cheek was smashed against the pages of his book, pushing his lips out in a pucker face, and his wrecked hair stuck up at odd angles on his forehead. An unbridled bubble of laughter threatened to come up your throat and you had managed to contain it — until a little string of drool puddled on the paper his cheek rested upon. Both you and Scout shook with the force of your giggles and you briefly found yourself thinking that it probably wasn’t that funny, but to a sleep-deprived university student it was comedic gold.

Jude must’ve shoved Scout’s legs off his lap if the loud ‘thud!’ of her feet hitting the floor beside you were any indication. They came dangerously close to knocking over your cup of caffeine — the only thing getting you through the early hours of the morning — and you were quick to snatch it up, cradling it to your chest like a protective mother. Your look of disgust towards your two friends was completely ignored, overlooked by Scout’s cry of protest and Jude’s annoyed, but slightly amused, glare at the girl.

“That’s what you made me pause my game for?” He huffed, tugging his fingers through his dark tufts of hair.

She shrugged, a shit-eating grin on her face as she plopped her warm toned legs back onto his lap. “Y/n said it first, not me.”

You were mid-sip, a mouthful of bitter coffee coating your tongue when you squealed a close-mouthed noise of protest, widened eyes flickering between your friends.

“I did not!” You cried once you’d successfully swallowed without choking. “I said that would be me if I didn’t finish my paper soon.”

“Lies,” Scout muttered.

Twisting your body to face her, the back of your hand smacked against her bare outer thigh, a loud and satisfying ‘smack!’ emitting from the harsh flesh on flesh contact. Your puppy dog eyes turned to Jude, bottom lip jutting out just slightly and he laughed, the action making his irises twinkle and scrunch closed.

“I’d never say that about you, J,” You said cutely.

He bumped his knee against your right shoulder lightly, jostling you to the side, and rolled his eyes but the tiny upwards lift to the corners of his mouth told you he was far from annoyed.

“Alright, alright, I believe you.” He groaned, quickly flicking his gaze back to the TV and unpausing his game. “Fuck you and your puppy eyes.”

Grinning triumphantly, you sipped your coffee happily and flopped back against the front of the couch. The sleeping computer screen on the coffee table immediately put a pin in your bubble of contentment, an instant frown replacing the bright smile on your lips. You set aside your half empty cup with a heavy sigh and swiped a finger along the smooth track-pad, waking it from its automatic sleep to tuck back into the four page book review for your U.S. History class. The cursor blinked approximately five or six times before you began to type, but you had barely written three words when the glass doors of the Learning Commons burst open and a group of rowdy boys piled through the entrance.

Well, you thought. Maybe just one more day of procrastinating won’t hurt.

A muffled groan sounded from Scout. “Great. Your frat brothers decided to grace us with their presence, J.”

Your fingers went slack over the lit up keys and you slouched defeatedly; at the rate you were going, the outcome of your paper was beginning to look more and more dim, but the fraternity boys couldn’t care less that some people were actually attempting to get their assignments done by their due dates. They joked and jostled each other and you kind of hoped they could feel the blazing burn of your laser-beam glare you shot their way, but their oblivious grins stuck a pin in your wishes. You watched them for a moment longer as they split off, some falling into the snack bar or coffee line while others drifted towards a vacant table or couch; you took that as your cue to pack up your things and traipse across campus to the library. (Why did you pick somewhere so loud to write a whole ass paper anyway?)

Scout managed to tear her attention from her phone long enough to notice you zipping up your bag and beginning to stand.

She quirked a perfectly shaped brow and asked, “Where are you going? It’s only 10:30; our Psych class isn’t until 12.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I wasn’t aware that the class I’ve been going to every Friday for a month now doesn’t start until 12,” You bit back with the most deadpan tone you could muster.

Jude snorted without taking his eyes off the TV, his fingers never ceasing their rapid movements between buttons on the game controller. Scout responded with a swift kick to said controller (which earned her a string of expletives as he fumbled to retrieve it off the floor) and waggled a chipped nail-polished finger at you.

“First of all, the ‘tude is not appreciated and second, both of your friends are sitting right here so my question is very valid.”

“Okay, rude.” You pouted sulkily as you gathered your hair to tie it up into a bun with the velvety pink scrunchie on your wrist. “And if you must know, I’m going to the library because it’s way too loud in here to write a paper.”

“Ugh.” Scout groaned and threw her legs off the side of the couch, rolling off onto the floor in the most ungraceful maneuver you’d ever witnessed in your life. “I guess I’ll go with you. I still haven’t finished that Biology worksheet due today.”

“Really?” You inquired absentmindedly as you fiddled with your messy bun in the reflection on your darkened phone screen. (She was taking forever and you needed something to do so you didn’t look like a complete moron.) “I finished it like the day she handed it out last week.”

You didn’t even have to look over at the caramel-skinned girl to know that she had rolled her eyes hard enough to get stuck inside her head. “Literally no one asked,” She retorted.

“Mmm, and to think I was actually going to give you all the answers..”

Just as you watched her expression morph into a sickly sweet one, a shrill whistle cut through every conversation in the room. The loud chattering of college students died down to muted whispers until the only distinguishable sounds were the whirring of the old air conditioning unit in the building and the clambering of shoes against wood; once you turned away from Scout you saw that the latter had come from a blonde boy in basketball shorts standing on a table in the center of the room. Kappa Sigma was emblazoned proudly across the chest of the scarlet colored hoodie he wore and you fought the urge to roll your eyes because of course he was in a fraternity.

The blonde frat boy’s voice faintly resonated in your ears, but you turned away from his dramatic display anyway to latch onto the sleeve of Scout’s over-sized Harvard University t-shirt. You insistently tugged on the crimson colored material because you really just wanted to get a head-start on your paper. Instead of relenting and following you, she simply shrugged you off and it was then that you got distracted with one look at a stupidly attractive guy in a stupidly, tight t-shirt.

If you had ever seen someone who was truly poured into a shirt it was this guy. The gray material was stretched taut across his pectorals and abdomen, dipping and curling into each chiseled line on his body. The stitching around the short sleeves looked two seconds away from ripping open as his biceps bulged from the way he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. You didn’t think the view could get any better until your eyes slid further up to a jawline that could probably cut straight through glass and to top it off, a head full of effortless curls—your ultimate weakness. You were pretty sure you were gaping open-mouthed at him at that point, but it wasn’t everyday that you saw a real life fucking angel on campus.

So yes, you gaped at him. Proudly.

Until you were caught...which you were seconds later.

Your heart dipped dangerously low in your chest and for a moment it felt like the warm blood in your veins had turned to ice. That feeling of sudden panic from such a cute guy looking at you prompted you to swiftly turn away; the cold you had felt literal seconds prior shifted to an uncomfortable warmth as the shock of being caught staring shifted to embarrassment. Your brain raced almost as quickly as your heart and you tried to pretend to focus on the blonde guy standing on a table to calm down, but then you made the dumb decision to sneak another peek.

Big, big mistake on your part.

Insanely hot frat guy was still looking at you. Not only was he still staring, but the beginnings of a smirk were forming on his pink lips and maybe he was not-so-subtly flexing his biceps. Seeing the corded muscles ripple and bulge under his tan skin truly was entrancing and if Scout hadn’t grabbed you by the material of your sweatshirt you would’ve stood and stared for a little bit longer.

Fingers snapped in front of your face and you blinked once, twice, three times before she really came into focus. She shot you a funny look and asked, “Seriously, what were you staring at?” She followed your gaze when your eyes instinctively shot back towards the insanely hot frat guy—who had thankfully looked away. “What is wrong with y—ohhh.”

A shit-eating grin stretched across her face and you immediately groaned. “Don’t start, okay?” You grumbled and finally managed to pull her towards the glass double doors. “He’s stupid hot and I was respectfully looking.”

Scout snorted from behind you as you held the door for her, both of you stepping outside and beginning the trek across campus to the library.

“You were point two seconds away from drooling,” She teased, bumping your arm with her elbow.

You felt the heat tickling at your cheeks and ears again, so you quickly changed the subject.

“Anyway,” You said pointedly, shooting her a look that could kill. “What was that whole ‘getting on the table’ display about?”

“Right. I forgot you were a little... preoccupied.” She smirked and dodged your incoming fist, giggling like a maniac. “Okay, okay! There’s a party at the Kappa Sigma house tonight.”

Scrunching your nose up at the mention of a party, you tossed your empty cup of iced coffee in a trash bin as you passed.

“Well, I have a hot date with Doctor McDreamy and I can’t miss it. You know how much I love me some Derek Shepherd.”

Just as you reached for the door handle to the library, she smacked your hand away with a serious expression.

“C’mon!” She whined, her bottom lip jutting out like a child. “You’ve never been to a party with me. It’ll be fun!”

“My definition of ‘fun’ is very different from yours, Scout.”

A sly smile turned her full lips upwards again. “Tom will be there…”

Your brows furrowed as you wracked your brain to put a name to a face. Tom. Did you know a Tom?

“Um. Am I supposed to know who that is?” You asked cluelessly.

Scout groaned. “Tom Holland. The guy you were ogling in the LC,” She explained with a ‘duh’ tone in her voice.

Absentmindedly you fiddled with the strap of your shoulder bag. You were already growing tired of the conversation and wished she’d just drop it; if anyone knew your anxiety situation, it was her and you thought she’d learned by now that you would never set foot in a party. Attending a frat party of all things was sure to bring on a panic attack and you’d rather not hyperventilate in front of a bunch of testosterone-filled college guys. No way in hell.

Exhaling an exasperated sigh, you shifted on your feet tiredly and let your head fall back towards the sky.

“Is that supposed to convince me?” You shifted around your friend and managed to snag the door open before she could stop you. “Because it’s not working.”

Save for a girl lightly snoring on one of the couches and a guy wearing glasses slaving over his keyboard, the library was practically barren. You immediately felt comforted as you traipsed along the outskirts of the large room, like a warm hug after coming home from a long day; except it was barely after eleven in the morning and you were ashamed to admit that you already needed comforting. Whilst another large exhale huffed past your lips at the thought, you dropped your bag down on the worn cushions of a couch pushed under a window and plopped yourself next to it rather ungracefully.

A rather loud thump resounded through the room as Scout carelessly deposited her own things on the floor by a comfortable looking arm chair; she simply shrugged at your warning glance, mumbling “those two are dead to the world anyway” under her breath and turned to pull a black binder from her backpack.

Soon, the silence between you two was filled with the clicking of your fingers across the keys on your laptop and the scratching of her mechanical pencil on paper. It was nice—relaxing even—and you sunk further into the soft couch that hugged your body, your mind only filled with the words you needed to get down to finish your stupid book review.

What kind of history class has to write a book review anyway? This wasn’t English.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

A small wad of balled up notebook paper hit your left cheek, bouncing off and into the crack between the cushions. Before you could retort, she was already whispering vehemently.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the party.” She stabbed her pencil in your direction as she spoke. “You’re going. Plus, I’ll be with you the whole night. Promise.”

Arguing with Scout was like arguing with a brick wall—pointless and you’d never win and you honestly just wanted her to shut up at this point; so even though the idea of standing in the Kappa Sigma frat house while the plaster walls vibrated and bodies jostled around you almost made you want to throw up, you reluctantly agreed to go with her. You tried to convince yourself it wouldn’t be so bad, that your best friend would be at your side the entire night, but you still couldn’t shake the butterflies in your belly the entire day.

Just as you’d expected, you were pretty sure you were this close to blowing chunks in Kappa Sigma’s bushes.

The lawn was crawling with college students bearing drinks and you were thrown into the middle of them, one hand clasped in Scout’s as she led you up to the porch and the other anxiously fiddling with the hem of your gingham printed shorts. You were hyper aware of everything happening around you: knocking shoulders with a short, blonde girl, the loud shouts over a game of flip cup, the bass of the song playing in your chest, and a putrid, skunk-like smell that caught in your lungs no matter what you did. Already you wanted to leave, but one look at your best friend’s excited face had you willing yourself to suck it up and try to have fun.

Clutching onto Scout’s hand like it was your only lifeline, she guided you through the foyer and an expansive dining room before reaching the kitchen and the pressure in your chest lifted enough to calm your racing heart; it was significantly less crowded, only inhabited by a small group of girls and a guy with his head stuck in the refrigerator. You watched as Scout paid none of them any mind and instead helped herself to two red solo cups, pointing the nozzle to the keg in one and letting it fill with the sepia toned beer before doing the same with the other cup.

You had just opened your mouth to protest, but the look she shot you had the words dying in your throat.

“Just trust me, alright?” She said and you let her shove the full cup into your hand. “It’ll help with your nerves.”

For a brief second your gaze flickered to the group of three girls seated at the kitchen island, all huddled together and speaking in low tones. It made your skin prickle and heat up and you wondered if they were talking about you—how out of place you seemed.

The white brim of your cup slotted between your glossed-up lips and you took a hefty swig. You immediately scrunched your face up in disgust at the bitter, watery taste of the ale but you were willing to down it if it drowned out your impending anxiety for the night.

“Ugh.” You cringed and peered at the frothy beer in distaste. “How do you drink this shit?”

Scout just grinned and raised her beer in the air.

“Cheers bitch,” She hummed and downed a gulp big enough to puff out her cheeks with the liquid. “Now drink up.”

So, you did cautiously while she retrieved her phone from her back pocket; you distantly heard her say the words “text” and “Jude” but you were more focused on the guy leaning against the counter a few steps away. It was the same guy who’d been rummaging in the fridge when you came in and it appeared he’d found what he wanted: a bottle of Michelob Ultra that he held by the neck. His other hand was occupied by his phone, his head tilted downwards as he scrolled with his thumb, but then he tipped it back to sip his drink and your heart plummeted.

You wasted no time grabbing Scout by her bicep to get her attention.

“Don’t look now but super hot frat guy, Tom, is literally right there,” You whispered frantically through gritted teeth and tugged her towards the exit.

Of course, she resisted. The “don’t look now” part of your sentence slipped in one ear and out the other because she turned back to glance at him with the subtlety of a hand grenade. Her small squeal had you yanking her back around, your stomach rolling with enough nerves to make you vomit for real this time.

“I literally just said—”

Just after the words left your mouth, Jude sauntered into the kitchen, loudly exclaiming: “Tom, man, how long does it take to get a drink?” Then, his six-foot-three hulking physique lumbered towards you and Scout—which effectively made Tom’s dark brown irises lock onto you. “And why have you guys not answered my texts? We’re about to start another round of flip cup.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes and you wished you were dead. You knew you should’ve stayed in the safety of your dorm with Meredith Grey and Derek Shepherd. Why didn’t you?

Maybe it was because you were the biggest pushover on campus?

Yeah, that had to be it.

“Sorry, mate.” Tom didn’t glance away from you as he spoke. You noticed a smirk playing at his thin lips before it was covered by the open top of his beer bottle when he took a drag. “I guess I got a little... distracted.”

His little jab at you didn’t go unnoticed.

Yep, he definitely recognized you from earlier in the day when you practically undressed him.

Deep down you knew he was just messing with you, but you couldn’t help feeling humiliated—like you were the center of a joke and not the kind of joke where he was laughing with you; suddenly overcome with a need to escape, you ignored his remark and turned to Scout and Jude instead.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom or step outside really quick.”

You barely heard her concerned voice asking if you wanted her to come with you before you were high-tailing it out of the room and up the dark wooden stairs in the foyer. You took them two at a time and in your haste to ascend them, the smelly beer in your still-full-to-the-brim cup sloshed over the rim and saturated the front of your black shirt and flowy shorts. Your face contorted in discomfort at the feeling of your wet clothes sticking to your skin as you slowed down, reaching the top floor at a more careful pace. The paranoid feeling that everyone was watching you make a fool of yourself began to set in and just as your breathing started to escalate, you ducked into the first bedroom you saw and quickly shut it with a click.

Absentmindedly, you sat your now half empty beer cup on the dresser by the door and slumped back against the wood. The cold doorknob pressed into the bottom of your spine but you didn’t care because all you could think about was the soaked fabric clinging to your front, Tom’s subtle mocking comment, and the feeling you’d felt coming up the steps.

In the back of your mind you knew how dramatic and blown out of proportion you were acting; your anxiety, however, didn’t get the memo. So there you were, panting and quivering in some random frat guy’s room with tears pooling at your lash line. You were beginning to feel nauseous lurches in your stomach and all you wanted was to go home.

You’d never wanted to be here in the first place.

An uncomfortable warmth bloomed in your chest around your heart—a feeling you were all too familiar with. If you had to guess, you assumed it was the way a heart attack might feel. You were panicking for absolutely no reason at all and all that you knew was that you needed to get out of here.

With shaky hands, you pulled your phone out of your bra and wiped away the sticky residue from the beer before composing a new text to Scout.

Sent at 11:33 PM: i feel sick. i think i’m gonna head back to our dorm

Then, feeling inexplicably guilty for not even trying, you typed again as your tears left splotches on your screen.

Sent at 11:33 PM: i’m really sorry

The click of your phone locking sounded like a blaring horn to your over-sensitized body and you slumped tiredly into a desk chair, shoving your phone somewhere on the desk carelessly. You were still shaking and you didn’t know if you were cold or hot and bile had started to burn your throat and in your hazy mind you swore you heard the doorknob turning but who knows?

“Uh, what the fuck are you doing in my room?”

If you thought you were going to throw up before then you definitely were now.

You grabbed the trash bin beside the desk and hung your head over it, the contents of the day emptying from your anxious stomach.

“Christ,” The guy grumbled in annoyance. Didn’t you know that voice from somewhere? “Of course. A drunk girl chooses my room to throw up in out of all the fuckin’ other rooms in this house.”

Shame crept up your neck and made you feel even hotter than you already were. You felt like such a mess—you reeked of alcohol, your hair was damp from a cold-sweat, and a stranger had just witnessed you puking your guts out. Great.

You couldn’t speak. All you could do was take shaky, staggered breaths and sniffle through your tears but you did manage to see who the mean guy in the room with you was. Just as your luck would have it, the guy whose bedroom you’d taken hostage in was none other than Tom Holland.

Your stomach twisted and again you ducked your head back in the bin to puke some more.

“Look. I’m sorry you feel like shit and drank too much but you’ve gotta get outta here.” You felt his large, strong hand curl around your bare bicep to tug you up out of his chair. “C’mon. Time to go.”

It was at that moment Tom finally noticed three things: that you were the girl from earlier in the LC, then again in the frat’s kitchen, that you were shaking like a leaf against him, and that you were struggling to breathe normally. It was clear to him you weren’t throwing up because you were drunk; you were throwing up because you were having a full-blown panic attack.

In his bedroom.

And he’d been nothing but a dick to you so far.

“Woah, hey, hey,” He murmured softly, his voice taking on a much gentler tone. Delicately, he brushed the sweaty hair from your warm cheeks and allowed one of his palms to meet the small of your back. “It’s okay. You’re alright, darlin’.”

You focused all your attention on the quiet hum of his voice in your right ear and the silver cross necklace rising and falling on his chest with each breath. You tried to sync your breaths with his even, steady ones and although it took awhile, you managed to calm yourself down to a non-hysterical state.

Tom’s fingers, however, never faltered in their dance along your spine. “Good girl,” He hummed soothingly.

Tingles tickled at each of your vertebrae.

Good girl. Was he trying to kill you?

Clearing your throat, you set the trash bin beside the desk where it lived and stood up to move closer to the door and away from Tom. You were pretty sure you’d embarrassed yourself in front of a hot guy enough for one day and didn’t want to do anything rash...like jump his bones for calling you a good girl.

You felt yourself getting hot again.

“I’m sorry.” You fiddled with the damp hem of your shirt, unable to meet his gaze. “I just...needed some air and then I spilt beer all over myself and—yeah.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” He shrugged like a girl having a panic attack in his room was normal, then gestured to your ruined outfit. “I’ve got some stuff you can borrow if you want.”

“Oh! No, it’s okay, really—”

“C’mon. That can’t be comfortable,” He said with a raised brow. He was already rummaging through his dresser drawers before you could protest anymore. “Let me help you out, alright? I’ve already been the biggest dick to you tonight.”

You couldn’t argue with that, so you took the clean clothes from his outstretched hand and sent him an awkward smile.

“Thanks. I’ll, um, get these back to you. Sometime.”

He grinned at how awkward and fumbly you were. It was cute. He liked that he was the cause of it.

“Sounds like a pretty good plan to me,” He agreed cheekily, unable to hide the smile on his lips. “Gives me an excuse to see you again, huh, darlin’?”

Oh.

This boy was definitely trying to make you explode and you were two seconds away from doing so, sweat pooling even quicker in areas you didn’t even want to fathom.

Thankfully, before you had the chance to embarrass yourself any further, Tom turned his back on you, chuckling lowly under his breath and urged you to get changed.

As you toed out of your high-tops and peeled your sticky, black shirt from your torso, your attention wavered just as you reached for his heather grey t-shirt. You distractedly grasped the soft material to put it on, but you were too entranced by Tom’s back muscles through his own shirt to follow through.

The fabric was stretched taut over the expanse of his broad shoulders and every little movement allowed you to see the rippling muscle that was underneath it. Your fingers itched to slip under his shirt and feel his toned back for yourself, to lightly dig your n—

“Jude said your friend is waitin’ for you on the porch.” His English twang had you throwing the clean clothes on hastily before he turned back around. “I’ll walk you down.”

All you wanted was to get out of this frat house and into your shower as quickly as possible so you agreed even though you felt like your insides were on fire.

You gathered your dirty clothes and hooked your fingertips into the canvas backs of your shoes before you were ushered out into the corridor. The party seemed to have thinned out a considerable amount with only the occasional person loitering about on the second floor; the thought of someone seeing you with Tom’s baggy clothes on made your cheeks flush and you tilted your head down towards the floor, avoiding anyone’s curious eye. To your anxious mind, it felt like everyone was watching you and Tom descend the grand stairs in the fraternity’s house so you held your gaze with the dark hardwood floor the entire trek to the porch.

His warm palm met the small of your back for the second time that night and you cautiously glanced up into his dark brown irises. You were surprised to see the incredibly soft edge they had taken on and even more surprised by the way your spine instinctively arched against his hand.

A guy had never touched you like this before—it felt intimate and tender and you were a stranger to it.

“Hey.” He had to stoop down towards your ear so you could hear him over the still-blaring music. His breath tickled your neck and his bottom lip brushed the tip of your ear. You couldn’t stop from shivering. “Are you alright?”

No, you weren’t. He was really, really close and your heart was beating dangerously fast again.

“Yeah,” You breathed in reassurance, pushing what you hoped was a convincing smile. “I’m okay. Just tired.”

He didn’t look completely convinced. However, he didn’t push the subject further and you were grateful.

“Alright.” He nodded and it was silent for a split second until you both reached the front door. “You look beautiful in my clothes by the way.”

And then Tom was pushing open the door and there on the porch like he said was a worried Scout. Thankfully, she was way too preoccupied with hurtling questions of “are you okay?” and “what happened?” for her to notice the way your skin was flushed and how you couldn’t quite look anyone in the eye.

The weight of the fingers splayed along the base of your spine disappeared as Scout swept you away from Tom and into her crushing embrace.

“Oh my God!” She shrieked as she hugged you to her, your bundle of clothes and shoes between you digging into your stomach. “You scared the hell out of me. Did you fall in the toilet or something?”

For the first time in what felt like forever, a small snort of a laugh left your throat.

“I’m fine,” You reassured and tangled your digits with hers, tugging her down the porch stairs with you. “And no, I didn’t ‘fall in the toilet.’ I just want to go home and drown myself in the shower.”

“Good. You smell like shit.” Her nose wrinkled. “And please enlighten me on how you ended up in Tom fucking Holland’s bedroom.”

You laughed again and spared a glance over your shoulder.

Tom still stood on the porch, readjusting his backwards hat over his brunette curls. You caught the little smirk on his lips and you swore he winked before Scout was tugging you further up the sidewalk and you were forced to turn back around.

Every inch of your body tingled.

It wasn’t until you stood under the shower head’s chilly spray of water back in your residence hall that you realized you’d left your phone in Tom’s room.

TOM TAGLIST:

@xoxohollands ♡ @outshineallthestars ♡ @pcterparxer ♡ @worldoftom ♡

RETROGRADE ONLY TAGLIST:

@softholand ♡ @sushiinmidnight ♡ @stuckonspidey ♡

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kaleidographia · 6 years

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[Review] Tales of Vesperia: The Brightest Star in the Night Sky Doesn't Shine as Strongly as I'd Hoped

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Warning: Contains allusive/thematic spoilers.

The day is finally here! Tales of Vesperia: Definitive Edition, containing content previously unseen outside of Japan, has finally been released, so that us English speakers and/or non-PS3 owners can experience the new storylines, characters and features for the first time! Alas, this isn’t a post about that, firstly because this post is going up day-of-release and I haven’t had a chance to play it yet, and secondly because I am writing this from outside of the country and won’t be united with my pre-ordered copy until I return next week, RIP.

Therefore, this post is written from the point of view of someone who has only played the Xbox 360 version. I will try to keep it brief for the sake of not spoiling newcomers to the game, and also hopefully not to complain about things that are fixed (or broken??) in the Definitive Edition.

Tales of Vesperia is a game in the long-running “Tales of” franchise from Bandai Namco, the first one in HD, originally released for the Xbox 360 in 2008, later receiving an updated PS3 version in 2009, exclusive to Japan. Like many older fans, my introduction to the Tales of series was with Tales of Symphonia for the Gamecube, and I fell in love hard; I was therefore extremely excited to play the next games, but unfortunately, I never owned the platforms for them until very recently. Along with Tales of the Abyss, Vesperia and Symphonia form the “holy trinity” of games in the series almost everyone loves; find a Tales fan and ask them their favourite game, and the answer will likely be one of those three (note: I’ve heard very good things about Graces and the two Xillia games, but unfortunately haven’t had a chance to judge them firsthand myself). The three games, while not directly related in terms of plot or setting, share a lot of things in common, as they had mostly the same creative team, often referred to as “Team Symphonia” (as opposed to “Team Destiny” which made most other games since then). One notable difference is the scenario writer, Takashi Hasegawa, while Symphonia and Abyss were written by Takumi Miyajima.

The Tales series is known for its reliance on anime and JRPG tropes, often used in a way that plays off cliché expectations only to then layer plot twists and character development and produce a much deeper experience than what would be expected from the get-go. When used effectively, these methods produce a story that is both fun and emotionally challenging. Tales of Vesperia is no different, offering a cast of archetypes that should be highly recognizable to those familiar with the genre, and yet this may be best set of characters in a Tales game. The party has impressively good banter, chemistry and dynamics and several scenes had me laughing out loud or yelling, and I never had a bad time watching their relationships unfold.

Unfortunately, the game spares little time fleshing out backstories or learning more about each individual character outside of the main plot. By the end, I was left wanting, as the cast was so endearing and vibrant, yet I knew next to nothing about them aside from what had been relevant to show onscreen. I longed for more information about where they had come from and how they had gotten where they were, but it is a testament to the strength of the character writing that their storylines reached a satisfying conclusion despite this relative sparse amount of information about them. “Backstory is not story”, Craig McCracken and Frank Angones were fond of saying to fans of Wander Over Yonder, but for a game with the size and scope of a 60-hour JRPG, not providing that window of information feels like a hole in the worldbuilding.

Mechanically, Vesperia builds on the model established by Symphonia and refined in Abyss, where combat takes place in a 3D arena and the player can run around, hit enemies and rack up combos fighting game style (the franchise calls this “Linear Motion Battle System”). While Symphonia was in 3D, it restricted the player to a single side-to-side corridor of action. Abyss added the ability to run around in 3D space by holding down a button, a feature Vesperia also has. This makes combat easier and more fun, as nothing is quite as satisfying as avoiding an attack and then running around and hitting the enemy from behind. And, as the game allows up to four players controlling different party members, and I have a player 2 (shoutout to my roommate Opal), Vesperia’s system is the most well-suited to multiplayer. If nothing else, I never felt lost while on the battlefield yelling for backup. The one major flaw is that boss fights come with massive difficulty spikes and I often had to grind and formulate careful battle plans with Opal just to not get continuously massacred by bosses.

Storywise, Vesperia starts off very strongly, sort of peters out near the middle, and then the third act falls apart. At first the theme is anti-authority, with a protagonist who grew up in the slums, neglected by nobles, who became a knight and then quit out of disillusionment when it turned out all they did was squabble about politics, and the inciting incident and early driver of the plot is his quest to “fix the plumbing” as a popular Tumblr text post put it. It’s clear Yuri has all the reason in the world to not trust authority and he even goes full vigilante against unjust abuse of power, but while this thread seems like the most important theme in the story, after a while so many other elements come into play it ends up lost and doesn’t really make much of an appearance except to highlight the differences between Yuri and Flynn’s approaches to life and how they prefer to help people. On its own it’s a compelling idea, but it never gets the follow-through it deserves, and my expectations were certainly subverted—but in a bad way.

It’s hard to talk about the third act without spoilers so I will probably come back to it for a proper analysis at a later date, but its ultimate message was already kind of limp in 2008 and is even more laughable now. For a game whose initial premise was so strongly against authority, the ultimate resolution of the main conflict reads as incredibly daft in light of just about everything that is happening in politics at the moment. There’s a very strong environmental allegory and the comparisons to climate change are not subtle, but the writers probably bit off more than they could chew because realistically trying to solve this problem in the time the story allotted would have been next to impossible; I still would have hoped the implications of the given solution had been actually explored instead of settling for an “oh well, guess everything’s been fixed now”.

I’m being harsh about the plot because to me Vesperia has a lot of wasted potential. Don’t get me wrong: I do love this game. It is in fact up there with the holy trinity as far as my opinions of the series go, but it lands in third place out of the three because it just fails to live up to what its first half promises about the world it created. To put it bluntly, if the story had just ended at the conclusion of the second act, it would have been much stronger. That the game continues for another 20 hours on a completely different track with an unsatisfying, unrealistic conclusion is a huge shame because it brings down what could have been a real masterpiece of tropey anime JRPG narratives. I live for that stuff, there’s a reason I want to play every Tales game, but that’s what makes this letdown the most disappointing. At least the characters themselves get good conclusions; it is unfortunate I can’t say the same for the main plot.

Despite all this I think Vesperia is a worthwhile experience, and one of my favourite things about is its aesthetic sense. Every location is immersive, polished, and the pinnacle of what I want to see in a videogame, to the point I dream of Symphonia and Abyss remakes made in the same style (and every other game in the series, to be honest, but that seems unlikely with the direction it’s taken since then). I genuinely cared about the party and I wanted to see them succeed and I was ultimately happy that they did even if I did roll my eyes a lot. The combat was so satisfying and so fun to play with a player 2 it makes me twice as mad that Zestiria’s camera goes completely wild during multiplayer and prevents me from joining in. I should note that for someone who plays as many games as I do I am notoriously terrible at them so I heavily favour story over mechanics, but Vesperia is a game that reminds me that engaging gameplay can make a huge difference. Yeah, I suck, but at least I’m having fun while sucking. That’s more than I can say for a lot of games.

If you like JRPGs, games that let you run around and hit things, or fun and intriguing character dynamics, you’ll probably like Tales of Vesperia. If you’re looking for a coherent story from start to finish, you’ll probably disappointed, but there’s just enough there to keep you engrossed until the end. Overall, Vesperia is solid, and the parts it fumbles aren’t bad enough to ruin the whole thing, but hopefully the extra content in Definitive Edition helps to smooth it out; I’ll have to find that out for myself.

Aside from how it messes up the voice acting this time around. Oh, Bamco.

#Review #Tales of #Tales of Vesperia #videogames

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flauntpage · 7 years

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You like that? Ten takeaways from Eagles 30, Redskins 17

Though far from perfect and somewhat Pyrrhic, it’s hard to find much to complain about when you open the season with a 30 to 17 road win over a division rival.

The Eagles beat Washington for the first time since 2014, almost three years to the day that Taylor Swift’s “Shake it Off” climbed to the top of the Billboard 100 charts. Five losses and 36 months later, Doug Pederson is getting a sideline Gatorade bath while Taylor drops some really weird shit.

Ironically, it was a questionable call that sealed the deal for the Birds, when Brandon Graham’s fourth quarter strip of Kirk Cousins was allowed to stand despite what I thought looked pretty damn close to a throwing motion. Cousins turned the ball over three times as the Skins’ offense generated just 264 yards at home.

Ten observations:

1. Establishing momentum, then killing it

I loved the first play deep look for Torrey Smith, followed by a couple of confidence-boosting catches for Nelson Agholor. You saw a lot of that in the Week 1 college and NFL games, with coaches trying to establish rhythm and timing for their quarterbacks and receivers.

After the 58 yard touchdown pass to Agholor, Pederson then made one of his worst calls of the game with that motion/flat pass/bubble screen combination. Theoretically, I understand that you want to keep that momentum going and get the ball in Agholor’s hands again, but it ended up becoming a horrendous turnover after a really poor pass from Carson Wentz.

Also, take a look at Smith’s Odubel Herrera-esque effort in recovering the loose ball:

Not the time to get cute, that's on Doug http://pic.twitter.com/WfJ5e0O6SB

— The Bitter Birds (@AdrianFedkiw) September 10, 2017

For what it’s worth, this is what Pederson said post-game when asked about that play:

“It’s a run, and based on what the defense does, (Wentz) has the ability to throw it. Not talking about where he throws, but what Nelson (Agholor) does with the ball when he gets it.”

Whatever that meant.

In hindsight, Wentz does deserve a lot of blame for that sequence.

2. More blunt than Blount

LeGarrette Blount finished with 14 carries for 46 yards, averaging 3.3 per touch, with his longest run going seven yards.

His biggest contribution was actually in the passing game, with a one-yard touchdown catch to start the second quarter. It was the second TD reception of his ENTIRE career, coming off the heels of a 2016 season where he finished with just seven total catches.

By my count, he only ran for one first down in this game. He was used three other times in short-yardage situations, the most prominent of which was the second scoring series, on the first play inside the red zone from two yards out. The Eagles also opened the second half by running him out of the shotgun for whatever reason, and there was another situation later in the third quarter when the line opened up a huge hole that he couldn’t get through fast enough, turning a 10+ yard gain into a five yard gain.

One of the things I did like about Blount’s usage was that off-tackle/bunch formation look, which essentially gave him a couple of lead blockers without needing a fullback to run between the tackles.

This was the setup used twice in the game, where that cluster of blockers would immediately engage two linebackers and a corner at the second level of attack:

3. 60/40 is what you’re going to get

The Birds threw it 39 times and ran it 24 times for a 62% to 38% pass/run split.

That’s in a ballgame where they controlled the clock for 34:16, compared to Washington’s 25:44.

You might have been clamoring for Pederson to run it more based on that skew, but context doesn’t really seem to matter much in that department. 60/40 is pretty much what you’re going to get, even in a road game where you earn four takeaways and run more total plays (65) than the opponent (61).

It’s in Doug’s DNA, just like it was in Andy Reid’s DNA. For what it’s worth, Andy threw it 35 times and ran it 27 times in the Chiefs’ big win over the Pats on Thursday night.

Only twice last season did Doug Pederson run the ball more than he threw it. The first instance was the 24-19 Week 16 home win that kept the Giants out of the playoffs. Pederson ran it 30 times and threw it 25 times in that game. The second instance was the Falcons win, which featured 38 runs and 36 passes.

Every other game was pass-heavy:

Week 17: win against Dallas backups – 43 pass, 30 rush (61/39 split)

Week 15: Ravens loss – 42 pass, 38 rush (53/47 split)

Week 14: Skins loss – 46 pass, 26 rush (64/36 split)

Week 13: Bengals loss – 60 pass, 19 rush (76/24 split)

Week 12: Packers loss – 36 pass, 18 rush (67/33 split)

Week 11: Seahawks loss – 45 pass, 26 rush (63/37 split)

Week 9: Giants loss – 47 pass, 25 rush (65/35 split)

Week 8: Cowboys overtime loss – 44 pass, 24 rush (65/35 split)

Week 7: Vikings win – 28 pass, 26 rush (52/48 split)

Week 6: Skins loss – 22 pass, 21 rush (51/49 split)

Week 5: Lions loss – 33 pass, 21 rush (61/39 split)

Week 3: Steelers win – 31 pass, 30 rush (51/49 split)

Week 2: Bears win – 34 pass, 32 rush (52/48 split)

Week 1: Browns win – 37 pass, 34 rush (52/48 split)

It’s almost like you can feel him trying to be balanced early in the season.

4. How the new guys make the returning guys better

By halftime, Alshon Jeffery and Torrey Smith were targeted four times combined for one catch and 14 total yards.

Agholor had four grabs for 83 yards and a touchdown on six total targets.

Go figure, right?

The flip side of the slow start for Wentz’s new weapons was that it opened up the field for Agholor and Zach Ertz, who really took advantage of having Jeffery and Smith drawing attention elsewhere. The positive is that Jeffery did finish with seven targets, while Smith would have easily crested 75 yards if Wentz had hit him in stride over-the-top on two occasions where he got by Josh Norman.

The final stats:

I thought Zach Ertz had an underrated performance. He snagged all eight passes that were thrown in his direction.

According to Pro Football Focus, the Eagles lined him up 15 times at tight end, 14 times in the slot, and 10 times as a wide out. That’s excellent versatility for a guy who should be entering the prime of his career.

Joe Giglio over at 94 WIP dropped a great Ertz statistic.

First 62 career games:

Zach Ertz: 255 catches, 2,933 yards

Tony Gonzalez: 256 catches, 2,955 yards

Jason Witten: 248 catches, 2,776 yards

— Joe Giglio (@JoeGiglioSports) September 10, 2017

5. Winning despite…

In this game the Eagles…

missed an extra point

turned it over twice

whiffed on the easiest sack of all-time

suffered injuries to their best cornerback, their left tackle, and kicker

…and still won against a division rival on the road.

For Philly fans, the overcoming of that sort of misfortune is a rarity.

6. I don’t need to see replays of a guy dislocating his ankle

We knew it was bad when we first saw Ronald Darby go down on that shitty field.

I don’t need to see it ten times in a row.

The Eagles only dressed three corners for this game, but Jaylen Watkins (CB/S hybrid) and Patrick Robinson did a really nice job of stepping up when Darby went out injured. We’ll get an update on his injury status on Monday.

7. A lack of control in the hand

This was the play that sealed the game for the Birds:

Fletchhhhhhhh (Pt. 2)

BG with the forced fumble, Fletcher does the rest. #FlyEaglesFly http://pic.twitter.com/a9k4cfc5vF

— Philadelphia Eagles (@Eagles) September 10, 2017

Anyway, is the arm coming forward? Is the ball already out before contact is made? It’s really hard to tell, but I thought for sure they would overrule the call on the field (fumble and touchdown).

According to the Washington Post, this was the explanation the officials gave:

“Referee Brad Allen said he called a fumble because of “lack of control in the hand.” He said he saw an empty hand as Cousins’s arm went forward, and there was not enough evidence to overturn the call following video review.”

Makes sense to me.

Kirk Cousins said this after the game –

“I don’t have a whole lot to say just because I haven’t seen it yet – except for on the Jumbotron. We’d like to think that we had a chance there to get the ball back, but I always expect when the play is allowed to be reviewed and they can go over it again that they’re going to make the right call and you saw their decision. Tough one, but there are so many other plays in the game that lead to that moment that I really think are more important and more telling of why it didn’t go our way at the end.”

That last part is the real story here. The three turnovers prior to that really killed the Skins, especially that red zone interception when Cousins had eight guys gunning for him.

He was under pressure on 19-of-47 drop backs and sacked four times.

8. Doug’s worst call?

There are a few candidates. The Agholor run/pass/bubble screen/whatever was one of them. There was another bubble type of play where Wentz threw another flat pass behind the line of scrimmage on a third and ten.

Pederson also burned a timeout just before the two-minute warning, only to kick a field goal anyway (which was probably the right call ultimately).

It’s easy to rip Doug (and then pile on), but let’s at least give the guy some credit for coaching his team to a 13-point road win over a division rival. It’s a big victory on the heels of a loser ex-GM criticizing you for no apparent reason, followed by a speculative story about how the defensive coordinator wants to be the head coach.

Doug Pederson just got a Gatorade bath. Wonder if that was a message.

— Mike Garafolo (@MikeGarafolo) September 10, 2017

9. Doug’s best call?

I liked the Blount touchdown pass, which had a busy shift going on before the snap, then continued with a target for the least likely candidate on the field:

Carson Wentz finds LeGarrette Blount for the short TD, Eagles lead 14-0.

Carson Wentz today: 8/10, 102 yards, 2 TDs. http://pic.twitter.com/NsayBobnoU

— NFL Update (@MySportsUpdate) September 10, 2017

I also thought his best decisions weren’t necessarily play calls, but the confidence he showed in Caleb Sturgis and the defense to get the job done in a couple of different scenarios.

10 . Most awkward moment of game…

Was it the goofy Mike Pereira and Dean Blandino cut-in?

Or was it Terry Bradshaw doing the FOX robot voice?

Pereira and Blandino in the most awkward family photo ever. http://pic.twitter.com/dtSFe8ia9z

— Dan Levy (@DanLevyThinks) September 10, 2017

“It’s a little bit of a different look for me. I’m used to being in the command center in New York, but this is just as exciting and just as fun.”

Thanks, Dean.

You like that? Ten takeaways from Eagles 30, Redskins 17 published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

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