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blissfulparker · 4 years

Text

Seasick→P.4 Peter Parker

Parings→college!peter x reader

Summary→ when you give one lie to your mom that you have a boyfriend, she ends up buying an extra ticket for a cruise you guys are going on. Now you’re stuck looking for a fake boyfriend and eventually drag peter in. Except you and peter both like each other and don’t know how long you can last pretending.

Warnings→fluff, mentions of sex

A/n→hi! Sorry this is kinda late but I’m in school so every update is going to be kinda scattered🥺here is part four and it’s kinda long but let me know how you like it✨

Masterlist

10 hours. For once in the entire year peter got 10 hours of sleep without having to wake up to adjust the pillow, wake up to take off the sheets, he slept for a full 10 hours and it was the best sleep he had gotten in years.

The bed was empty though, empty and cold. He could tell you already got yourself ready and left by the way your sandals that once rested by the door were gone and the bathroom was wide open. For you, someone who seemed to vist the bathroom about 8 times in just one day, peter had not seemed to use it once.

Went for a swim-(y/n)

Left on his bedside table on top of his phone. His phone which had three new messages from May, two new messages from ned, and one message from MJ. He wasn’t use to getting messages from her. Normally when he got messages from her it was for school, a lost assignment she needed, study questions, never would he expect to get one over the summer.

Be nice to her loser!

Was all it read. He chuckled a little before closing out from it and moving to Ned’s messages.

Did you kiss her?

Fake kisses can be real ones!

What’s it like living on a boat?

Peter cracks a smile at all of them and his fingers are quick to respond.

No we didn’t kiss, it’s not like that

It’s fun so far, her family is interesting

He leaves it at that, he’s not going to say much more out of respect for you. If Ned knew, Ned knew. He didn’t know what people knew about you. He didn’t know what you told MJ and Betty. He didn’t know if he knew you anymore. He wasn’t mad, just confused. Confused but understood just a little.

Interesting was the right word

Do yourself a favor and just kiss, you don’t even have to tell Betty and MJ😉

The text makes him blush and set his phone down. He can’t imagine what his first kiss with you will be like on this cruise. Will it be forced? Will it be willingly? Will it be just to prove a point? This whole relationship though was just to prove a point.

He thought maybe he could find you going for a swim. But there were 27 different pools on this ship, he already looked at the map. Seven hotels, 20 public pools, four of those pools being just for kids, three of them being for adults, five of them being apart of spas, 127 different restaurants, 100 different gift shops, 150 different bars, He’s got the whole place mapped out.

Before he could even finish the possibilities of where you could be, you come back into the room with your hair soaking wet. Towel in hand but your body is dry, he doesn’t look at you as you wear the small red bikini. He knows if he looks he can’t look away, so he turns away and clears his throat.

“It’s only 9am.” He says loud enough for you to hear from the bathroom.

“I know.” You call back.

“So what time did you go swimming?” He hears the shower turn on and doesn’t expect an answer but you come out with a towel wrapped around your nude body to answer him.

“I like to play the fun game of, get there early enough to sneak in and leave right before the lifeguards shift.” You wink before shutting the bathroom door and hoping in the shower.

Peter flops back down on the bed, in shock of all the things he just saw. He basically saw his life long crush naked, wet too. But he had to keep his head focused, had to keep playing the part of the fake boyfriend and had to still be your friend at the same time.

“I-um…” he knocks twice. “I’m going to get breakfast!” He yells at you. There’s a faint ‘okay’ but it was that you heard him.

You were right when you told him that being on a cruise felt nothing like being on the ocean. Walking through the hotel he felt like he was just on vacation somewhere tropical. The weather was nice so far and everyone wore shorts and tee shirts all day.

He found himself at the cafe, just going to get a coffee for the both of you and then breakfast sandwiches. That’s all he was going to do but the sound of your sisters voice calling him over made him stop in his tracks. He wasn’t prepared for being alone and having to show a relationship, but maybe she just wanted to know him and everyone was good about talking about themselves, so this would be easy.

“Peter!” The one who he met last night, maya, called out. “Peter come sit!” She pulled out a chair next to her before he could order. He walks over to take a seat, nervous of what would happen next.

“Uh, um, hey.” He tries to play off cool but her tapping her coffee cup, resting her nicely painted nails on her face, and leaning in, all made Peter nervous.

“How was your first nights sleep here?” She asks almost like she’s playing a game. He knew she didn’t care about his sleep, he didn’t even think she cared about your sleep.

“It was good, we slept—“ he started but she quickly cut him off.

“Oh I really don’t care how you sleep, I meant how are you two? How is she dealing with a boyfriend.” Her eyes squinted a little almost like she’s on to him, trying to read him.

“Well, we’ve been together since January and we’ve slept in the same bed before so it wasn’t strange to us. She’s good, she’s really good to me and I like to think I’m good enough for her.” He swallows hard. Hands rest on his sweatpants. his mind wonders and he can’t help the thought of what was she trying to do to him?

“You know...Europe, you mentioned last night about how you two knew your feelings then...it was awful what happened during your trip wasn’t it? Some sort of monster thing tried to take over? So sad. You know she really wanted to go to oxford? She wanted to study there for two years and she even said maybe once she’s done at Columbia and NYU she’s going to head over there. She’s very smart you know.” Her cup rocks back and forth in her hand. Was she trying to get him to break up with you? Why would you want to bring him or anyone along as a boyfriend if your family didn’t even like it?

“Wow, Oxford is like a dream.” He laughs a little, rubbing his hands. “But um...she hasn’t said anything about a transfer and she seems pretty happy at Columbia—“ he starts and she interrupted again.

“Did you know when she was a kid she wanted to be a doctor? She loved helping people and up until about the age of fourteen she wanted to be a doctor so badly but then she studies journalism and English literature, crazy how we always end up in something completely different.” She talks as if she’s jealous but what was there to be jealous about? She had a well life it seemed, the ring on her finger suggested that too.

“You’re married?” He asked changing the subject. she stares down at the bright diamond and brings it up for him to see more.

“Oh no, just engaged.” She takes a sip of the cold coffee and sets it down. “He lives in California, we’re moving to new York in the fall and having the wedding next year in the spring.” She told almost like she was bored with talking about that. When pepper got engaged it was all she ever talked about at the tower, not in a bragging way, just she was happy.

“But I don’t want to talk about my life right now, tell me more about you peter. She said something about a stark internship last night?” She blinks her eyes a few times, her eyelash extensions help bring fear.

“I work there now actually, it helps get me credit for my major and I’ve been an intern since I was fourteen. I um…I now just work on minor stuff like equipment, programming, stuff like that.” He tried to play off as nothing. Nothing, because he wanted to leave.

“So glad she found someone smart honestly, I was starting to loose all hope for her.” She says with a sigh as she leans back in her chair, she drops her sunglasses on her face as it starts to peak into the cafe. He wants to say something but he holds back, he holds back and keeps to himself.

“Peter!” Your voice hisses as you come into the cafe. He didn’t even realize he’s been sitting with your sister for 30 minutes. “Petey…” you come up to him with a kiss to his cheek. He acts sweet and touches your cheek.

“So nice to see you this early, Peter and I were just getting to know each other.” She smiles, her teeth perfectly straight and white, almost like she was just perfect.

“Oh really?” You say with a fake smile knowing you just got here in time to save peter. “Babe, I thought maybe we could go mini golfing today.” You sit on his lap trying to make your sister uncomfortable enough to leave.

“Ooo! You guys should take a painting class, Dan and I did it and it was so therapeutic. (Y/n) I know spas aren’t your thing or anything so you guys should definitely take a painting class! Maybe a couples massage! Peter don’t you think she deserves a massage?” She takes up her sunglasses and Peter agrees.

“We’ll think about it, Peter, let’s get some coffee and head back to the room? I’m feeling a little tired.” You pout, resting your hands around his shoulder he has his hands on your waist.

“Yeah sure.” He nods and your sister gives a sly smirk before you two get up and get in line. Your hand gripping his bicep and you never noticed or really seen until now and last night, how strong and built Peter was. Nerdy, computer science, shy peter was ripped.

You know she’s still watching, Peters hand is still gripping your waist as he lets you lean on his shoulder.

“What did she say?” You ask and he turns to see her now just looking at her phone.

“She just asked a lot about me.” He didn’t really lie, he just didn’t talk about how she mentioned transferring so much. It made him nervous.

“Sorry, I didn’t think she’d be down here. I should’ve warned you to stay in until I—“ you start and he looks at you with soft comforting eyes.

“It was okay, she doesn’t know.” He tells you with a soft nod. You sigh into his shoulder before it’s your turn to order. Who knew that this early in the morning you’d already have to start your fake relationship.

You get ready in the hotel, the first full day of being here and you're trying to get Peter out of everything before your sister breaks him. Either of your sisters break him. You realized you had to put more effort into this than you thought, pet names, hand touching, being giggly was not enough. It was almost like they needed proof that you've fucked to make a real relationship.

Peter sat comfy on the bed, looking through the pamphlet he snagged to get a better idea of the things he could do. If he's on a free cruise, everything paid for he might as well take advantage of that.

There was a knock on the door that made him look up. You were in the other room on the phone with MJ so he knew you couldn't hear it. He gets up and looks through the peephole to see it's just your mom on the other side. She's made him feel the most calm about this whole thing but has seemed to irritate you this whole time.

“Oh, peter!” she's shocked to see him answer the door. She holds a bag in her hands and looks like she's ready to go to the pool. “Sorry if i distrubed anything.” she looked behind him but didn't see anything.

“Oh no, (y/n) is just um...she was just getting ready.” he tells her and she smiles handing over the bag.

“Oh, okay! Well let her know we're meeting for lunch and then going to the garden as a family after lunch.” she smiles and hands him the bag, you come right behind him wearing your sweats and an old tee shirt.

“Mom?” you ask, standing next to peter.

“Lunch and musem at one.” she tells you and right as you were about to say something she stops you. “Don't debate it, be there at one.” she tells you in more of a stern voice. She hands you over the bag and you look at her confused.

“That's just some things I thought you might need.” she winks and then turns to leave. Peter shuts the door and you open to look in the bag. A box of condoms, plan B, and a few other snacks which made you groan.

“She has to be joking.” you toss the bag on the bed before rubbing your face.

“Y-your mom just buys you those things?” his face grows red. He remembers the first time he bought condoms, he was 17 and May found out and gave him an hour long talk on how to be safe and treat a woman right. That was the last time he would use his debt card to buy condoms or anything sex related.

“Sadly, yes.” you say as you take them out and shove them in the dresser. “So much for getting away from them today.” you sigh and he looks at how stressed you are, he thinks of comforting you as a friend but everything happening is already so weird, he really doesn't know how things will look after this.

“I mean it's just lunch right? We can probably sneak away at the musuem.” he offered and you smiled as he was just trying to help. He was just trying to help but he was so clueless.

“Maybe.” you told him before looking at the time. You rub your face again before getting ready to face yourself with a new pain.

It was almost like your family grew overnight. Your eldest sister who was the most bitter now had a man by her side, he didn't know how he was supposed to keep up with all of this, how much was he supposed to know? So you had sisters, and an aunt, your parents, he wasn't sure what else to expect. Your hand was tight in his as the two of you walked around the museum. Art hung from the walls and families walked in and out. Your family a little bit ahead, all going off into different groups.

“Where is any of this from?” you look to see your family far enough ahead to not see the two of you.

“Stolen. All art is stolen.” you told him and he bites his lip, not exactly the answer he was looking for but it was a right one.

“I meant more of its origin, but um, that works too…” he swallows hard. Right as things were peaceful your older sister comes up. The one that intimidated him the most was standing right next to him.

“You'd think maybe after the millionth time of being here they would have run out of stuff to put in here.” She speaks to you, Peter is frozen, not knowing the next move.

“Well, half of it is replicas, replicas or real. Most of it is borrowed.” you told her and she nodded.

“Did i get a chance to tell you that you guys are the cutest?” she was the only one with sleek brown hair, the rest of the family had curls.

“No, I don't think you did.” you had a new face on, one peter never had seen before. You were competing with her. “Where's jack?” you ask about her husband.

“I'm not talking about jack right now i'm talking about you and…” she looks at him and you are quick to speak up.

“Peter. It's peter.” you told her and she presses her lips together.

“Right, i'm bad with names, you know that dont you little sis.” she playfully hits your shoulder.

“How london?” you asked her. He could tell she had an accent, he was just clueless as to where it came from.

“Cold, but the people are lovely.” she tells you quickly. “For a couple that's been together for six months, you sure haven't kissed a lot. In fact, I haven't seen you kiss at all. Six months, jack and I were still in our honeymoon phase.” his grip tightens, he's worried for the second time someone would blow your cover.

“We just don't need to kiss in front of other people, it's not your business anyways.” you told her. She looked at Peter one more time before she heard her name being called. She gave you one last smile before her heels clicked away.

You didn't say a word after that. Your hand slipped from his as you cleared your throat and folded them. You didn't speak a word the rest of the time. Peter's hand rested softly on your back around your family but when you two were alone again he could tell you didnt want to be touched.

“Were going to go to the bar tonight okay sweetheart?” your mom came and kissed your cheeks and you nodded. Putting on a fake smile and nodding to her. She then turned and hugged Peter, Peter gave her a soft hug before turning back to you.

Your arm snaked around Peter as you felt your sisters watching. Peter felt it too, he turned to you softly, holding your cheek and leans in to place a soft kiss on your lips. You're shocked but then realizes what he's doing and fall into the kiss. His lips chapped, they taste a little like carmex and mint toothpaste. Your body melts into his as he harshens the kiss to a makeout before moving off of you.

“What was that for?” you whispered against his lips and he looked over to see your sisters moved on, your mom now holding a different conversation.

“They were watching.” he told you and you break eye contact remembering it's all just a show. You forget that he's just a friend and doesn't really like you. He doesn't have feelings like you do.

“Right.” you murmured. You move back from him before turning away before leaving the museum and going back to the room.

He didn't chase after you but when he got to the hotel he put his ear to the door and he could hear a faint cry, a faint cry that made him shove his key back in his pocket and turn away knowing the last thing you needed was your fake boyfriend to come in and confuse you while your messed up family made fun of you.

You hurt, a lot. And peter didn’t understand why you kept it all such a secret. Why you hid this from him but you did. He didn’t want to push anymore than he already did so he would have to go forward from here. Go forward and make sure he was the best fake boyfriend you’d ever had.

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gaypasta · 5 years

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maybe 16 or 2 for reddie!

“Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face?”It wasn’t that Richie didn’t like being at home - he did. Maggie and Wentworth were great and all of the Losers were treated like an extension of the family whenever they would crowd into Richie’s living room with bowls of popcorn and a plethora of sugary snacks. The issue was the Richie didn’t really like being alone. He got antsy, he couldn’t concentrate and more often than not, couldn’t fall asleep.

It happened first, with Ben. Sweet Ben who couldn’t have kicked Richie out even if he wanted to when Richie knocked on his bedroom window of the bungalow and wormed his way into Ben’s bed and talked and talked until he’d talked out all of his energy and he passed out with Ben sat beside him wondering what the hell just happened.

Then it was Bill, when he was understimulated. Richie would pedal all the way to Bill’s, climb the tree, then hop onto the porch roof and then pull open Bill’s bedroom window - which was always a little open. Bill liked the fresh air. He would wake Bill up and they’d play video games or go for a walk or do anything to get Richie stimulated enough to be able to fall asleep without twitching in the bed like a live wire.

Then, Richie chanced it with Mike. An hour long bicycle ride later and he stumbled his way around the farm up to the house and shouted for Mike to let him in. Richie was mad. So mad. It was after the fight between him and Bill and he had thought it over and over and over again in his head until he wound himself up into a ball of rage and Mike brought him around all the animals with a flashlight in hand and let his anger dissipate.

Then it was Stan. After the sewers. They all had nightmares, sure. Richie could never get back to sleep. He hated sleeping alone. So, he hopped on his bike and made the trek to Stan’s. Stan didn’t sleep well after. He didn’t really sleep at all. His bedroom light was on and Stan opened the window when Richie climbed up onto the tree beside it as if Stan had been waiting for him. The nightmares bled out of his head and they both slept as Richie told Stan about how he didn’t want to be forgotten, how he didn’t want to fade from people’s memories like all those faded gravestones in the Cemetery and Stan told Richie all about what he saw in the Deadlights.

Richie would sit on the fire escape and tap Bev’s window out-of-view and she would open it some minutes later with her smokes and a pack of matches and they’ll talk about things. Beverly talks about Ben but no one knows what Richie talks about. Something important, probably.

Then, lastly, some months after the sewer, it was Eddie. Richie threw rocks up at Eddie’s window and Eddie asked him what he wanted, “Let me in, Eds. Open the front door,” And Eddie did. Richie’s face was red and puffy and his eyes were ringed much the same.

“Have you been crying?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, I saw your Mom in the shower,” Richie replied, voice taut with sniffles.

“That’s frickin’ disgusting.”

“Yeah, it really was.”

Eddie knew something had happened - he wasn’t slow. He knew Richie didn’t go to Ben’s with tears in his eyes or sneak through Bill’s window with a sad, faraway look on his face. Eddie knew that if Richie wanted to talk about it, he would. But he wouldn’t want to talk about it - Richie breezes over difficult questions with clever quips and silly voices and Eddie pretends he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

So it went on like that. Every so often, Richie would throw a pebble at Eddie’s window and Eddie - without looking - would flutter downstairs and unlock the back door to a subdued Richie who would ruffle his hair with a sad, wet smile.

There had to be a line to how much Eddie would ignore. And one day, he found it.

It wasn’t nighttime, it was barely three in the afternoon when he heard a familiar thump on his bedroom window. Eddie opened it and shouted that the door was open, come on up. Eddie barely had time to put away the deck of cards he was playing with before Richie all but slammed open his door. He shot about two feet in the air. “Hey!”

“Sorry, I’ve been working out.”

“Jerking off doesn’t count,” Eddie said, putting his cards on his bedside locker, when Richie didn’t reply he took a look at him, but his head was low and he couldn’t see his face, “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing.”

“Richie.”

Richie sat down on the bed after kicking the door closed and flopped backwards, nearly collapsing onto Eddie’s lap. Eddie barely choked back his cry of shock when he saw the state of him. A smash of blood from his nose, exploded onto his Freese’s tee. His glasses cracked and warped and his eyes an angry shade of purple - visible even through the cracked coke-bottle glass. “Take a wild fuckin’ guess.”

“Bill finally had enough of you imitating his stutter?” Eddie joked, even as he moved forward to get a closer look.

“Nah,” He said, lifting his glasses off to clean them, but Eddie took them out of his hand and set them out of reach, “Asked your Mom to sit on my face.”

Eddie gave his cheek a light slap, “Beep-beep.” The more Eddie looked at Richie’s face, the worse it looked. His lip was busted open and he had scratches and gravel all up the side of his cheek, like roadburn. Richie didn’t meet his eyes as Eddie looked over him, but he did wince when Eddie brushed some of the gravel off of his cuts. The air was steady and Richie seemed content in sitting in silence, but Eddie couldn’t leave it there. He’d found his line and this was it. “Bowers?”

Richie stiffened under him, “Bowers didn’t sit on my face but thanks for that image.” Again with the deflection.

“Richie, I’m serious, okay - stop fucking about.”

“I didn’t come here for a fucking lecture!” Richie said suddenly, whipping himself up into a sitting position only to let out a wheeze of pain and fall straight back down with a groan, “I can’t move right now but emotionally I’m storming out and slamming the door,” Richie winced as he touched his nose and groaned in pain.

“So it was Bowers?” He didn’t quip back at Richie. It was no fun when he was rolling about in pain.

“Yes.” Richie’s voice was a little nasally and gurgled. He sat up a little and blood came trickling down his nose and into his mouth. Eddie wretched and threw a box of tissues at him. Richie got through about six before his nose stopped bleeding again.

“Are you hurt?”

Richie stared at him blankly, “No.”

“Then why are there bruises all over your face?”

“He loaded me with sedatives before he beat my shit into the pavement.”

Eddie huffed and shuffled towards Richie and tore the tissue from his nose, “Stop being an ass. I’m trying to help, Rich and I don’t need you running your mouth and being a sarcastic asshole when I’m doing it. Sit there, don’t touch anything or …. bleed on anything. I’m gonna go and get some stuff from the first aid kit.”

“Hey, Eds?” Richie piped up in a soft voice as Eddie was about to leave the room. The softness of his voice caught him off guard and he didn’t have the heart to tell him not to call him that.

“Yeah, Rich?”

“One of your tampons should fit up my nose, it’ll stop the bleeding, right?”

“No - but I could see if my knuckle will fit up your nose - want to find out?”“Nah,” Richie pointed at his nose - “Henry already tried.”

Eddie got the things he needed from the first aid kit and brought Richie into his bathroom and locked the door. Richie was sat on the toilet seat, with Eddie leaning over a little to get a good angle to dab at Richie’s nose with a wet wipe. The blue-ish tint from the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom only made Eddie’s gut fall, more than he had expected really. Maybe it was the sad look in Richie’s eyes, too. “Why did he do this?” Eddie muttered, not really a direct question, but one Richie answered nonetheless.

“Cause I’m a faggot,” The matter-of-fact way Richie said it made Eddie’s stomach lurch.

That word - or anything related to being gay, really - always set Eddie on edge, always made him paranoid and his hair stand up on the back of his neck. Like there was a monster standing behind him, breathing rotten breath on his neck that would unhinge its jaw and swallow him whole if he even thought about other boys. The tone that Richie said that threw him off enough to ask, “Are you?”

Richie looked from the wet wipe, covered in Richie’s blood, that Eddie had moved away from his face a little, to Eddie and back to the wet wipe, “No. It was a joke.”

Eddie caught Richie looking at his own blood and felt sick, “I don’t think gays have AIDs - I saw the way you were looking at me. Anyone can get it - I read all these journals about it and it’s a disease. It doesn’t pick who it infects. Did you see Princess Diana shook hands with a patient? It’s terrible, don’t get me wrong but it’s not as contageous as the news is saying, and it’s definately not a ‘homosexual disease’ and-”

“You think I’m gay?” Richie cut him off.

“I - no. I don’t. I wouldn��t care if you were, though, for the record. I wouldn’t care if any of the losers were,” Eddie said, words rushing into each other as he spoke quickly, moving back to dab at Richie’s nose. It was hard to concentrate with the way Richie was looking at him. Like he was examining him.

“Are you?” Eddie flinched like he’d been shot when Richie asked that and he didn’t mean to physically take a step back. He opened and closed his mouth but nothing could come out. Nothing will come out - he’s fuckin’ sure of that, “I wouldn’t care either, you know.”

“Okay.” Eddie forced out.

“Okay.” Richie said.

They both agonised in the silence. Both a little wild-eyed like hares in headlights at each other. Richie’s face was clean of blood now. His shirt was still ruined but he didn’t look quite like he’d just gotten out of a bar fight now. He looked a lot better. Richie always looked kinda good, Eddie thought. The thought always embarrassed him. Richie was a bit strange looking, with a short face and his awful glasses and giant teeth that Richie insists he’ll grow into, but Eddie could never help the way his stomach lit when Richie laughed - or even when Richie pinched his cheeks and called him cute.

Richie thought the same thing. With Eddie and the way he was so quick to rile up, going from placid to in a rage at the drop of a hat. The way Eddie, all five-foot-three of him, kicked a fucking demon clown square in the snotter. When Eddie got his cast re-done because he got his ruined in greywater and he asked Richie to help re-write the LOSER on it. Eds sure was cute. The cutest fuckin powerhouse in all of Derry.

“I am.” Richie said suddenly, like a bubble bursting and suddenly his world was bigger. No longer closed in on himself, “I’m gay.”

Eddie looked like he’d seen a ghost and the wet wipe fell from his hand, “Yeah. Yeah, uh - okay. Me too.”

Richie blew a huge sigh of relief. A massive weight off of his shoulders. Although, when he looked at Eddie he didn’t feel the same radiating off of him. Eddie looked like he was about to either cry or pull a Johnny Twango and go mad, “You okay?” Eddie shook his head, not lifting his eyes off of the bathroom floor, which had suddenly gotten very interesting, what craftsmanship.

Richie pulled Eddie’s hand into his own, “Scared?” Eddie nodded, “I’m scared too.” Eddie finally willed himself to pull his eyes off of the incredible craftsmanship of the bathroom tiles and met Richie’s eyes, soft and vulnerable, “Scared together?”

“Scared together.” Richie squeezed Eddie’s hand and Eddie squeezed back. Eddie’s eyes widened suddenly and his hands shot up to Richie’s face, Richie flinched and looked up in confusion, “Your nose is broken, I’m gonna set it,” Eddie said and pinched Richie’s nose - Richie’s eyes blew open and he voiced his distress but they were cut short before Richie had the chance to push Eddie away as a loud CRACK sounded out into the air.

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT - THAT FUCKING HURT.”

Eddie laughed and laughed and laughed before he wiped the tears from his eyes as Richie was still complaining and groaning in pain, “That’s payback for my arm, dipshit.”

#hehe fank you #THIS is the first time ive written reddie so be nice #REDDIE #*fic #Anonymous

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sierrabinondo · 5 years

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2018

this year happened so. fast. i feel like it was just yesterday that we were eating tapas in a cabin in upstate new york for kristen’s birthday in february, celebrating jeremiah’s 30th in july, or waking up to warm weather in may after a long winter. the older i get the more i freak out about my mortality. life seemed to lull and drag when i was a teenager and i had nothing going on.

while i’m sad to see it end i’m really proud of the year i had. i can’t believe how much happened this year. i finally got a new job after years of searching, i worked out a lot and had abs for like a second, traveled a TON, and went on a lot of adventures. this year was probably my most adventurous. i like to believe it was a good year for my friends too- my best friend’s daughter turned one, my other best friend had a baby, and another hosted a kegger wedding. about ten of us trekked to new orleans (some of us flying for the first time) for the most drinking i have ever done in three days (it was more painful than fun for me sadly) and my friend had her fairytale halloween wedding. my weekends were extreeemely busy.

my band had our best year yet. we say that every year, i know, but i am grateful that it’s something that keeps growing. we went on our longest tour yet and played places we haven’t been before, we drew 75 people to our EP release show, played launch, opened for some of our favorite artists and released a record. at the very beginning of this year i set out to have better performances. i like to believe i worked harder and as a result i had a lot better shows. i’m still unhappy with a lot of gigs i had, personally haha, but i think that i showed up and really did well when it mattered most (eidola, tilian, this show in raritan that like 120 people showed up to lmao). i’ve been trying to compare myself as a singer, and ourselves as a band, way less than i used to. it feels like we have been at this forever but at the same time every year feels like brand new. we have had so much fun doing this. i think about everyone once i looked up to who quit, and shudder at the thought that they were my age when they did, but it’s really hard for me to give this up.

god, you could have told me that building a band was going to take forever, and i’d shake my head mindlessly agreeing, but i don’t think i was really prepared for the waiting game. and how long it was really going to take. it feels like we work really hard with no return on investment. so... we got burned out this year. i did. it became hard for all of us to write new material. it didn’t seem like we slowed down this year in terms of productivity because we were playing so many shows, but mentally we did. people kept asking and asking and we couldn’t say no to offers.

but now we have to put ourselves first and focus on doing what we set out to do, which is create new music. if we can really buckle down this winter like we plan on doing, i think we’re on to something. we may only ever be able to reach a niche audience but we are going to muster every creative ability in our bodies to eventually reveal music that we think will evoke something magical still. but we have to do it right. and we have to take our time. there will be new music in 2019 i just don’t know when. and now that we have an arsenal of amazing creative friends i think this time we will have the right assets (especially visual) to support everything. now that i’m drawing again, i’m going to try really really hard to supplement everything we release with something cool, too. so we’ll see.

at this point, i don’t think we can afford to settle or not have a near-perfect creative output. the reason being is, and i know like 5 people who will hit me over the head for saying this, but it feels like we have a time limit on this. at the same time, i can’t imagine not doing music for the rest of my life. we could always just be an internet band, but that’s no fun. i think some semblance of our existence this upcoming year will be internet-based, because no one goes to shows as much. you really have to pick and choose if you want to bring people out every single time. anyways, i’m really excited for what this band can still morph and shape into, and i am so excited about my bandmates’ creative potential. i can’t wait to finally have a new body of songs to do something with.

the only downside to this entire year was that somehow, despite the many people i am grateful to be surrounded by, it was super lonely! haha!

most would consider myself to have a really extensive, supportive network. but a lot of times i would sink into a dark place and feel really isolated. i thought that the cure for this was to cut off friends who gave me a lot of anxiety, or people i felt like i couldn’t 100% be myself around, to focus on nurturing friendships i already had that seemed to be working. but that didn’t help. a lot of times it felt like i had no one. i felt like i couldn’t constantly lean on those i already depend on out of fear of sounding like a helpless broken record. i managed to turn simple things my friends said around me while we were together into indications that they didn’t want me around, or that i was just invited out of obligation. i really convinced myself that all of my problems were trivial and not worth mentioning. so when my anxious thoughts came back or i was feeling awful it was just like listening to them cycle over and over with no reprieve. just constantly belittling myself and chipping away at my confidence. i had to really start leaning into writing again because it was the only way i felt peace (and because i can’t afford therapy!). not even just lyrics, just free writing. so journaling again has helped a ton - but i still need to address the thoughts i keep having about myself and really ask myself if these things i’ve manifested in my head are true.

what it all boils down to is my anxiety about getting older. a lot of mornings the past couple months, and as recently as a couple days ago, i lie awake literally counting down the years until i need to have kids. or taking on even more financial burden as a homeowner. and it makes me so mad, because i didn’t ask to be alive on this earth HAHA sorry too dark- what i mean to say is, i often have an enormous difficulty accepting getting older because i think about how much less time i already have just as a young working adult to pursue my passions.

i think all of us are worried about making something of ourselves before we get too old. i see it when my friends are venting to me about how stressed they are about finding work and on twitter when people are bugging out about others reaching milestones in their lives like getting married. i think that there’s only so much we can do but stay positive- and most importantly- prioritize our happiness, and let our day-to-day choices be informed by that. i’m a realist and so i have almost come to terms with the fact that i may really not get to accomplish everything i’ve ever wanted in time. but that doesn’t mean that i’ll stop working to achieve my goals. though i’ve realized that i’m really happy with everything i already have. i have it pretty damn good. and the more that i accept happiness in multiple facets of my life the better i’ve felt. and the more music i’ve made.

so i hope that not just in 2019 but down the line everyone else finds happiness too.

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gravityvsoxygen · 7 years

Text

08.07.17, 10:40pm

B asked me if I had journaled today. For like the 50th time in 2 weeks. It’s fine, I told him to. I need the reminder to stick with it. It’s just the more he reminds me the further I retreat into a place from which I can’t write. I’m not sure why that’s happening but I’m trying to figure it out.

Texas was amazing. I was carefree there. No pain, no anxiety. I missed B but it really felt no different than normal with the exception of the 2 or 3 hours we spend together several times a week. It’s going to hurt him to see that. But being 1,000 miles apart and out of reach is no different than being 5 miles away and out of reach when you think about it. I thought about him in Texas constantly, talked about him constantly. I stayed busy and it helped.

My appetite is back a little. I’m not making healthy choices and I should be. I didn’t work very hard to lose the weight but I’d like to keep it off nonetheless. I’m able to eat more without repercussion lately. I’m not sure if that means stress levels are down or what. If stress levels are down, that begs the question of why. I’m less patient than ever now. I’m worried I might be tucking my heart away subconsciously to avoid the pain. I’m worried about the adverse reaction that could have on a… newly budding?… relationship.

I find myself having to try to be interested in things lately. Conversation, people, random things. Today the VP of the company was in and usually, when I know someone from corporate is coming, I feel the need to knock ‘em dead. Today I woke up and literally did not care. I only tried a little for John’s sake. I am an extension of him, of course. One day they’ll talk about John, the guy who took a dying branch and revived it and his brilliant, beautiful right hand gal who laid the foundation on which he built. Regardless, it was weird that I didn’t care. And this is a guy I should care about. It could be that I legit don’t care about it. I’ve given up on caring about a lot of things there. But I also didn’t care enough to wake up early and see my mom for her birthday this weekend. That’s not like me really. I’m worried it’s another crash. I’m not sure what this rapid cycle shit is all about but it can stop at any time.

I feel an odd detachment from music. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t discovered anything new in awhile that really stuck, but it’s still odd. It’s not speaking much lately. Or maybe like I forgot the language. It’s still on all the time but it’s more for white noise than anything. I hear it, I’m singing it a lot of the time, but I’m not really feeling it. I’m listening to film scores while I write this. It’s the most emotional music I can think of… I guess I’m just trying to see if I feel anything. There’s a tiny flutter inside but nothing like I’m used to.

I’ve been watching a lot of TV. Mad Men this time. The previous times this has happened where I’ve become engrossed in a show or found myself watching a lot more TV than normal (The O.C., Breaking Bad, Dexter, Grey’s Anatomy, in that order), it was before a crash. It’s almost like my mind knows something is coming, plops me down in front of the TV, and tries to run pre-damage control in the background, like a defrag. My mind occupies itself with storylines rather than what’s going on in the real world. Or inside of itself. Or maybe my mind is trying to process too much, overheating, and shutting down. I don’t know. Just theories.

I’ve been feeling insignificant lately. Maybe Chrissy’s baby? Maybe work not going how I’d like it to be going. Maybe feeling left out in B’s life despite knowing he’s coming home as fast as he can. I don’t know.

I’m saying I don’t know a whole lot more. Using it like filler. Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it. Most of the time I’m conscious of it. It’s like the highway my thoughts travel along from my mind to my mouth is slick with oil. The words get stuck. I find myself small talking to fill defeating silences caused by my inability to verbalize my thoughts. My mind defaults to generalized statements and boring vocabulary to fill the voids. Words like “Nice.” “Great.” “Sad” “Happy.” “Upset.” Nothing colorful. Gray, drab words. Even the tone in my head is gray. Like Eeyore. I feel like I can’t even put up a good front. I don’t think I’ve hidden this dry feeling very well even though I’ve tried my best. I’m tired of being worried about, fawned over, analyzed. I really need to master the art of facades if I’m going to be this person the rest of my life.

The tone of this entry was irritated. I felt the itch of it in my thumbs as I typed. The razor sharpness of my words. Bacon knows I have nothing to be irritated about. I have a job. I have a man that loves me. I have a (relatively) healthy family and a new member on the way. My house is clean, I have a nice car and money to pay my bills. There’s literally nothing to be upset about.

So then why am I so fucking angry right now?

11:11pm (Make a wish...)

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