just wanted to get on and say i have been brainstorming, just kinda uninspired..... i will keep writing and posting!! uni is just tough shit.... fic suggestions r much appreciated, luv u guyz
a little snippet of a work i'm going to continue working on! it ends a little abruptly, but i figure i might as well post it to give you lovely people something to go off of as far as my writing goes... enjoy! :3
You kick your shoes off as you enter your dorm, practically passing out, flopping down on your bed as soon as you enter your room. Your backpack hits the floor with a loud thump! and you anticipate the reciprocal bangs from your downstairs neighbors. A few minutes pass and there they go… bang, bang, bang, maybe using a broomstick or throwing a book at their ceiling.
Nothing could pry you from this bed now, not the idea of getting into pajamas or eating a balanced meal of a shit cardboardy chicken sandwich and sour pineapple slices. Or studying for your upcoming exam. A heavy sigh leaves your slightly parted lips as you let the tension bleed from your shoulders and close your eyes. You can feel your mascara dissolve onto your pillowcase as your tired eyes water.
Your phone you haphazardly tossed onto your bed with your limp body buzzes beneath your fingers. You almost ignore it as the thought of being with anyone besides your plushies right now makes your chest tighten. Thank god you check your phone. Max, a friend of a friend, is letting you know he’ll be at some Halloween party tonight. Why he's texting you specifically is beyond you, but just the proposition of partying with him makes your stomach somersault. If Max did anything it was smoke pot; he never drank a lot if at all. So why he would want to go to a Halloween party in someone’s apartment is questionable to say the least.
He texts you some more details before you respond:
You know whose apartment it is…
Some mutual friends of yours are going too…
The outfit you're already wearing could pass as a Halloween costume if you put on some vampiric makeup. Just as you're sitting up to put yourself together, he texts you one more time.
Pregame at my dorm if ur down :)
Your eyes glaze over the screen, finally tapping on the notification to open your messages. You take a breath, deeper than necessary, but you feel the need. Your fingers type passively, trying to word this right;
consider me down
How hard was that?
— — —
With some smoky eyeshadow and a deep lipgloss color, you definitely passed as a vampire. You tried not to go too hard with the fake blood motif, but it was irresistible not to at least do a little.
With a couple of your friends, cute little ghouls and zombies, a few niche video game references, you walk to Max’s dorm. He and a few friends of his sneak you all in through the super secret back door of the building. Him and all his buddies are the avengers, and he’s got a Spider-Man costume on, wearing sweatpants. Spider-Man in sweatpants.
He’s got a big goofy smile on when he pries the door open, being the loudest attempt at sneaky a 20 year old has ever been. His eyes land on you for longer than either of you feel like they should, and he does a dopey little blink that only you could've noticed. The moment passes quickly and you look down to find your footing through the doorway.
His friends just take up space, making it difficult to get everyone into the stairwell. We all squeeze through anyway, smiling and giggling and shushing until we make it to his door. He opens it, extending an arm to the table in their common area displaying multiple handles of liquor. The bass from their obnoxious speaker pounds against the floor. Your eyes widen as you take in the space, giving him a curious look.
“Where the hell did you get all this shit, Max!?” Your tone is a mixture of wonder and excitement. You consider that he’s not even the one responsible for all of it. He throws his hands up and discreetly points a thumb at Plenty, whispering from the corner of his mouth,
“It's all his fault…” He winks, not in a flirtatious way, but it makes the moths in your stomach rage all the same. He smiles at the same time you do. You turn your attention to Ethan, who is in a Thor costume, an inflatable hammer being tossed between his hands. He looks at you for a moment and you give him your praise soon before you approach the table.
Jacob is dressed as Iron Man, the presumably affordable suit slightly baggy on his frame. A plastic mask slid up onto the top of his head, the detail actually kind of impressive. He must've spent some extra cash on that piece. That leaves Eddie as Captain America, which is actually pretty suiting. His plastic shield seemed to already have a chip or two in it due to some inevitable roughhousing.
Your friends have already taken to pouring themselves shots and mixed drinks, an array of juice on the counter by the sink. By this point you're hoping the little bunch of you just stay here for the night. Everyone got along, the music here was definitely better than whatever slop they would play in a crowded apartment, and no one would get lost. Or worse, roofied.
Almost everyone (all of you save for Max) waits with their shot glasses filled until everyone has one ready. You all cheers, yelling something about Halloween. You chug them down, soon followed by sour faces and gulps of diet Dr. Pepper.
— — —
For maybe an hour and a half everyone continues to drink and laugh and talk and eat a few candies. It’s getting pretty late now, and Ethan mentions the apartment. You're feeling buzzed, sure, but nothing bad enough not to walk a few blocks. Maybe your opposition to this party has simmered a little. Everyone else seems pretty excited to go anyway. You glance at Max who nods along with everybody. He seems high, but similar to you, he could hold his own against a narc if need be.
He stands up from the couch that he seemed glued to, slowly but surely. “Okay, c’mon then!” He announces, finally, after many hazy considerations and confirmations. He stands by the door and waits for everyone to navigate towards the exit, including yourself. You realize, after standing, you might not have yourself as pinned down as you thought. No big deal, you think, trying to shake yourself up, hoping to become more aware. All that does is make your head spin.
Max sees your little shimmy as he opens the door and walks with you on the way out. “You alright? Feeling out of it?” You shake your head and press your finger into your cheek, feeling how hot your face is getting. It's a little numb, too, you notice.
“I’m all good. No more drinks, maybe.” You respond, your tone light and positive, no sign of slurring. Which is funny, because everything else about you screams a little too drunk for this. These cute black boots that you love are, unfortunately, not helping your case. Your legs don't cross when you walk, but your stability is impaired. Walking down these stairs is going to be fun.
Your posse of friends skip down the stairs without an issue, and there you are, a little behind. Max walks with you, surveying every step, making sure you don't slip. You let out a little sigh, feeling guilty for making him feel like he has to babysit you. Someone from the bottom of the stairs yells up at you, telling you to hurry. “Jacob, bro, shut up!” Max yells down from beside you, smiling and letting out a little huff of a laugh. “Go ahead, we’ll catch up.” That part he says quieter, gentler, just for Jacob to hear. Without another word, they all scurry out the door.
The two of you make it to the bottom of the stairs, and Max turns to you, a look of concern and compassion covering his features. Your name leaves his lips, getting your attention. You turn to him, eyes surveying his slightly worried face. “We don't have to go to this thing if you're not feeling good.” You shake your head again, wanting Max to be able to have a good time. You don't want him to stay back with you all because you took one too many shots.
“I promise, I’m fine.” You reply, trying to stay focused and keep eye contact. You watch him smile at you, gently, not mocking. He gives you a drawn out,
“Okaaayyy…” As he pushes the door open and waits for you to walk through. As you comply, he has one more thing to say; “Just stay close, alright? Don't want you getting lost.” At that, your already heated face blushes past the point of no return. Your buzzed, foggy brain does love to hear just about any amount of care coming from him. Especially him. You nod and let out a little mhm.
(If you run the past year back you’d find that the two of you have taken quite a liking to each other, though neither of you would ever admit it. You always lingered in each other’s space after the parties died down, had similar interests, and stole glances when you thought the other wasn't looking. The few times either of you have gotten caught it's always been brushed off with smiling blushy faces. Sometimes blamed on the pot, or the tequila.)
— — —
Approaching the apartment, you see the rest of your friends enter a little further ahead of you, yourself and Max following a few feet behind. You can see the lights and hear the music from here, a few people in costume standing outside holding cans and smokes. The sidewalk is lined with jack-o-lanterns and cute little decorations, clearly belonging to past generations or handmade. Gotta love being cheap and resourceful.
Max gets the door for you and the two of you walk in, seeing your group of friends socializing with others in a cluster by the couch. You catch Jacob making a stupid face at Max, raising his eyebrows suggestively, sticking his tongue out a little between his teeth. You can hear Max scoff and watch as he smiles and shakes his head. Suddenly you're both standing with everyone else, smiling at your girlfriends as they wink and grin.
Your glossy eyes follow conversations other people are having, your gaze landing on Max, lingering for longer than it should. He’s busy in conversation with his friends’ new friends, and their friends. You could stare at him talking for hours. He turns his head and tilts it down a little to look at you face to face. For a moment, you don't say anything, and neither does he. You can't help but look into his eyes, their color nearly black especially in the low light of the room. Nobody cares to turn their attention to you two. It feels like there's no one else there. He smiles a little and turns back to everyone else, quickly making a joke to get himself back into the groove of conversation.
