goddamn this ed

2

“You doing okay? You look kinda funky…”
                                                                “I confess I’ve felt better”
                                                                                                                  #ThatSmileThough

Cards on the table: I love Oswald most of all. I am #TeamOswald to a probably irritating extent. I also hate all the ways he’s (both knowingly and unknowingly) taken advantage of Ed.

I think he hates it too, honestly?? I think regret is part of the love-based weakness he’s vowed to do without; to even attempt to make things right with Ed would require him unraveling the way he sees the world like he did after his mother died. Self-preservation is one reason he won’t do that, yes, but I think it’s more complicated than that.

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the biggest fuckup in the marvel universe is canonically wolverine because he had a chance with squirrel girl and he blew it

that is not a joke

squirrel girl who has even tried to talk it out with doctor goddamn doom

who has successfully bro-ed out with all-consuming intergalactic entities

would really rather just kick wolverine’s ass

wolverine somehow managed to fuck it up so unbelievably badly that one of his most secret sexual fantasies is a perfectly innocent doreen being happy to see him

logan what the fuck did you do

rain (reddie) ch. 1

Type: Series

Summary: Richie and Eddie had dated each other for a long time, and things had been going great - or so, they thought. After Eddie comes home to an empty apartment and a note left behind, the loving relationship of four years tragically ended. Years of never speaking to each other later, the wedding of Beverly and Ben brings everyone back together, including Eddie and Richie. Hotel room mix-ups, drunken confessions, loud arguments between several losers, bad parties, old childhood games, memories, music, love, and drama ensues over the week of preparing for the wedding.

Pairing(s): Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly

Word count: 2.2k

Chapter Warnings: Your heart might hurt a little

A/N: I’ve written two one shots so far and people seem to like them, so I thought I’d try my hand at a full blown fic. I hope it takes off, because I have some great ideas for this. If you’d like to be updated with the tagging system on possible future chapters, just let me know! Oh, and the losers are around 27 years of age to help out a bit. There will be some stenbrough and benverly involved, but it’ll mostly center around reddie.

Also, big shout out to @r-u-reddie for being the beta of this fic. Without Rose, this shit would’ve been hella bad. She went the whole nine yards in being a beta, so she deserves major credit for this chapter and the next chapters to come. @reddie-asheck did a bit of beta-ing for the first half of the chapter, so they deserve a shout out as well! 

One last thing before I shut my mouth - The song I listened to to get into the mood for tihs chapter is Happier by Ed Sheeran. Enjoy guys!

AO3 link coming in two weeks

Check out the new inspo tag here

“Richie, are you here?”

A trembling, but soft sigh sounded past the blue tinted lips of Eddie Kaspbrak as he closed the wooden door behind him, visibly wincing at the squeaking sounds of his sneakers as they collided with the hardwood floor beneath him.

It was raining. Hard. His previously dry jacket was now soaked to the point that his once-dry clothes took a heavy hit as well.

This caused Eddie’s body to tremble like an autumn leaf, but the immense relief he felt once walking into the warm apartment helped to curb the effect a bit.

“Richie? Did you fall asleep in my bed again?” Eddie called out once more, carefully removing his shoes before walking further inside of his small abode.

There wasn’t much to his apartment; it unfortunately lacked space. It contained one bedroom, one bathroom, and a kitchen/living room that shared the same area. In fact, the common area wasn’t too much bigger than his room, but that was fine to him. He had what he needed. Besides, living in New York meant that any decent apartment would cost a fortune.

He had done his best to make it his own by using subtle, but neat decorations to line his walls and inexpensive furniture in hopes of not making it too cluttered.

After grabbing a towel to dry himself off with, running it over his curls, Eddie walked over to his bedroom to see if his theory was correct. However, a deep frown began to settle on his face when he found both his bed and bedroom empty.

‘Where the hell is he?’ Eddie thought to himself, trying not to become worked up over his boyfriend’s absence.

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College Personalities Masterpost

[This is supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, and I get that everyone will have a different opinion. No offense intended!]

***

Universities

Harvard: The Stanford of the East. They go to Harvard, sweaty :))), and will make sure you know it. Senator’s sons: brash, smart, and never loved enough as children. Marxists who will graduate only to become CEOs. High School Salutatorians.

Yale: Power gays and hyperfocused law students. Secret societies, a housing system like Hogwarts’s, and a fistful of adderall in every pocket. High School Valedictorians.

Dartmouth: Frat guys, athletic stoners, and upper middle class mountaineers. Imagine a Penn student who spends their summer semester at Brown, vaping their way through business school.

Penn: Future opioid abusing bankers, who party hard but have enough connections to compensate for their academic performance. Like Dartmouth but not as chill; like Princeton but not as prissy.

Brown: They would have went to Berkeley, but Mother insisted on an Ivy. Blue hair, red flannel, white skin. They’ve got universal pass fail but it’s taboo to take advantage of the system. The creative version of every subject–their CompSci students go to Pixar and their Biomed students go to Calico.

Cornell: Engineers from old money families and Conrad Hilton fanboys. Are they depressed because they live in Ithaca or because of their crushing workloads? Teenage Kurt Vonneguts. Wealthy, but it’s not always obvious.

Columbia: In a one sided dick measuring contest with Yale. Heavy workloads, heavy drinking. Erudite, ambitious (and they know it). The angel to NYU’s devil. A fast track to the New York Times and Wall Street Journal.

Princeton: Secretly thinks Harvard is for the impoverished. Eating clubs. Well developed Econ and Math departments, but UChicago is catching up. Great undergraduate teaching, especially if you fit in with the culture.

Stanford: They’d have gone to Harvard, but California is the closest thing Earth’s got to Eden and Massachusetts is…clammy. Massive startup culture. Duck syndrome and stress culture. Elitist, especially about class and status, but somehow gets a pass.

Caltech: “Hey MIT, we’re you but stronger.” Pretends that test scores trump all other metrics of success, because they’re *Number One at the SAT, baby.* Something of a male dominated culture, lighthearted.

MIT: Robotics, engineering, business, and math. 90s computer nerd aesthetic but in an ironic way. Sunlight averse. 1) study hard 2) ??? 3) profit

Duke: Beautifully gothic. Has successfully implemented a caste system, albeit informally. Intelligent, southern socialites. United by basketball, divided by highschool-esque cliques.

UChicago: Will fight the Ivies on sight. Very good at Econ and Law with an intense classical “core” curriculum. Have your weekly panic attack in a stunning glass egg-inspired library. “If you study hard enough you can become God.”

Vanderbilt: The scent of Tennessee honey in the trees. Frat culture. Los Angeles’s beauty standards, Mississippi’s snark.

Johns Hopkins: Students are required to duel you if you call it “John Hopkin’s.” People who have been premed since third grade. Academically intense without being prestige obsessed–I’d cautiously call it “well balanced.” They’re there to become doctors and medical researchers, period.

Berkeley: Study while a riot between Trump Supporters and Antifa rages outside. If Calculus III has you down and depressed, pick up a can of mace and assault somebody. Competes with Stanford, is the champion of Public Universities. Insanely expensive area to live in. Most students are too absorbed in their academics (read: 3.3 GPA CompSci qualifier) to worry about much else.

UMich: Berkeley but with snow. Ann Arbor is as good as college towns get, but has almost dangerous levels of school spirit. International students with $4k apartments and $850 winter coats. “Harvard waitlisted me but I’m not even mad.”

UCLA: Everyone is a former premed. Valley girls and the Asian students they make problematic comments about. Frat guys lost in a scary world where you can’t pass a midterm with a hangover. Cal’s politically stable cousin.

USC: “The University of Spoiled Children” still rings true sometimes, but not as much anymore. There are some seriously competitive academic programs hidden behind Los Angeles’s gauzy party culture. Loyal alumni.

WUSTL: Cooperative with a competitive biology program. Low school spirit, largely because their last star athlete graduated in 1943. Prominent STEM culture, but not exactly nerdy. A midwestern fusion of Brown and Columbia.

Carnegie Mellon: UPitt’s smaller, bourgeois sister. Cliquey nerds–a Drama student would rather die than speak with an Engineer, and visa versa. CompSci champions.

Northwestern: Nerdwestern and Northwasted. They went to private high schools and it’s obvious. Show up to your Art History final drunk on rosé. A version of UChicago where you won’t get mugged on campus.

UWash: Architecture designed by Athena herself. The premed children of Microsoft engineers. White boys wearing colored socks and Nike sandals. Washington rains endlessly with the tears of tormented Amazon employees.

Rice: A refreshing dose of New England in the depths of Texas. “Hmm, Rice? I’ve never heard of it!” Spanish architecture, conquistador vibes. You’ve got a fair chance of finding the library packed at 1am, depending on what week it is. The MIT of the South.

Penn State: Drinking school with a football problem. Parties harder than Miami U. Not really bothered that they get confused with UPenn. Mild frat culture.

Boston University: Rich girls and self centered frat bros. Hipsters and hipster engineers. Athletes in the CGS (“Crayons, Glue, and Scissors”) school. Wealthy slackers who will regale you with tales of Martha’s Vineyard over break.

UVA: Preppy but not on purpose. Public school snobs. Southern-ish and definitely conservative. DC kids with a seemingly endless flow of money from home. The wealthiest, whitest school that’s not called Harvard.

LACs

Williams: Oxford and Harvard’s laid back son. Amherst can suck a dick. The bourgeois version of outdoorsy. Sports culture despite not being in a major division.

Amherst: Prelaw or business. Pastel polos, party drugs, and a general Gilded Age aesthetic. General distaste for the hoi polloi.

Swarthmore: “Swatkward.” Highly academic atmosphere, no time for social skills. Beautiful leafy campus. UPenn students aren’t shit compared to us. Stress culture so intense it would make a UChicago student weep.

Tufts: Don’t ask us if we got denied at the Ivies. Friendly, midsize school that maintains the atmosphere of an LAC. Very good International Relations and Philosophy (Dr. Daniel Dennett!) programs.

Reed: Swarthmore but with a lot of LSD. Atheism, communism, and free love. No one here knows a goddamn thing about sex ed. Nuclear reactor that students can train to work at.

Grinnell: Brown’s midwestern cousin. Concrete, glass, and corn. Well developed STEM programs, especially for an LAC. Close knit community, extreme hookup culture. Quirky. Emphasis on writing skill. Gigantic per-student endowment.

Carleton: Trimester system that intensifies the academic culture. Cold winters, warm hearts. Parties more than a typical LAC but there’s still a sense of awkwardness. The smart version of eccentric. Mini Northwestern.

Bowdoin: Not a single person here has ever known a moment of hardship. Dining hall food that could earn a Michelin star. Rich, white, and cliquey. A pretty significant “old sport” culture. Everyone pays full tuition.

Pomona: Like a university packaged as an LAC. All the benefits of California, located next to the Greatest American City—Los Angeles. Large endowment, lots of opportunities. Flagship of the Claremont colleges. Mini Stanford.

Harvey Mudd: A tiny population of quirky engineers. The one true STEM LAC. Mini MIT. Male dominated, socially awkward, highly academic.

Middlebury: Bourgeoisie teenagers in the wilderness. Has a reputation for excellent language programs despite that fame stemming largely from summer specific programs. Quirky, in a reserved way. An amalgam of Dartmouth and Columbia.

Oberlin: What conservatives think liberals are like. A dot of blue in a sea of red. Theatre, music, and dance. “My parents are making me double major in Econ.”

deaftechie  asked:

Reddie riding around in Richie's beat up chevy?

- richie saved up for months to buy this old thing and the moment eddie sees it he turns his nose up

- “you paid how much?!?”

- richie always wants to pick eddie up when the losers get together for the day 

- “you don’t need your goddamn bike anymore eds i’ll drive you” is a sentence eddie hears nearly everyday now

- richie isn’t a reckless driver which surprises eddie the first time he rides with him, and eddie actually enjoys how peaceful it is to sit in the passenger seat listening to richie’s music

- richie totally made a mixtape specifically for when eddie’s in the truck with him because he knows his music taste by heart

 - richie always takes the longest routes back to eddie’s house after a day of hanging out so he can spend as much time with him as possible, belting out songs and pretending to drive like a lunatic to see the look on his friends face

- eddie doesn’t appreciate the last part

- eddie secretly enjoys driving with richie because it means he can sneak glances at him and richie has to keep his eyes on the road even though he knows he’s looking at him

- “i can’t concentrate if you keep looking at me like that”

- “like what?”

- “dammit eddie”

- eddie went to a party once, richie felt sick so he didn’t go, and ended up drinking too much so he called richie to pick him up, specfically asking for him to play the mixtape with ‘lets here it for the boy’ on it because its his favourite

- the entire drive home eddie was jumping around and thrashing his arms and pretending to be in footloose and even though he nearly made richie crash three times he enjoyed every fucking second of it

- richie never fails to remind eddie of how he knew every word to every footloose song and that he begged richie to pull over so he could get out and dance

- however richie doesn’t remind eddie that when he finally started to settle down, and eventually fall asleep in the passenger seat, eddie reached over and held richie’s hand that was resting in his lap and he didn’t let go for the rest of the ride home

- he also doesn’t tell him he drove around derry for an extra half an hour just so he could hold eddie’s hand for longer

Edward Elric has made me cry about a lot of things.

Never did I think his singing voice would be one of them.

anonymous asked:

you write a lot of married sterek and sterek with kids, do you think you could write something about divorced sterek? like a little angsty, but something cute?

this has been in my drafts for forever so i’m glad to finally kick myself to finish it!!! you can also read it here on ao3

“Stiles?”

Stiles is laughing, hard, something his coworkers said, a joke that probably wasn’t even that funny, but they’ve been up all day going to workshops and seminars, that they really needed to destress and grab a drink. They found the closest bar to the hotel.

He hears his name though, which causes him to stop laughing and look away from his friends, because he’s in Chicago, over 1,400 miles away from Beacon Hills, so he’s really concerned on how anyone here could know his name.

But he looks up, and his chest burns. Not because of the whiskey, no. It burns from the phantom feeling of the hands that used to graze it, rough and calloused, yet warm and comforting. His heart beats incredibly fast, but not like it used to when he’d see that face, full of excitement and enamor. It beats like it’s going to pull from his chest, a feeling he can only really associate with a panic attack.

“Derek?”

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