#daze higgins

[littledots]

@intrcspection said : “ nothing is worth losing you. “ - edward & daze

daze blinked back at edward, confusion laced in her expression as her brain tried to catch up to his words. "why?" it wasn't that she didn't believe him, as much as it was that she never understood why he put so much stock into their relationship, into this friendship she was always waiting to end, one foot out the door to escape the pain that she knew would come with his leaving her behind. "i don't understand it, your need to keep me around. why do you care so much about me?"

[lcnelyday]

@dcydrecmings daze & edward i could make you smile.

she felt more pride than she could contain in her chest as she watched the smile across his face. "ah! a smile!" she giggled, nose scrunched up as she narrowed her eyes at him, an accusatory finger pointed at her best friend, "i told you i could make you smile! god, i am good. i am a comedian. the best comedian." she beamed, falling back against the passenger seat.

[honeykeats]

🔮 + daze

oogity boogity!

DAZE HIGGINS

this year: sexy gandalf favorite look: sexy palpatine or sexy ganondorf treats: any suckers. all the suckers. or twizzlers.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

A part two for Changes was requested by @ali-r3n 💞 In part one the reader changes her style to be more like Chrissy's since Eddie has a crush on her.

She hopes this will make Eddie notice her but he doesn't want her to change herself for him and she's crushed to find out that he's not interested in her like that.

The first part of this fic was written so long ago and my writing style has changed a lot 💞

Now that you're all caught up here's the summary for part two;

After realising that Eddie will never be interested in you, you decide it's time to move on. There's a new guy at school called Jenson, he's a metalhead like Eddie and very much your type...

Angst, jealous Eddie, Eddie wakes up and smells the roses, Mutual pining, fluff. Mdni.

💌💞

After your humiliating experience with Eddie you do your best to avoid him. He didn't even want you when you dressed like Chrissy because she was his dream girl. Not you.

You had to accept that you would never ever be his type. Just his friend. His buddy.

Robin met you after school and she could tell by your face that you're big plan to get Eddie to notice you had gone out of the window. Steve watches you concerned as you wipe the make up of you face and attempt not to cry.

"Steve can we stop off for some ice cream. I think she needs it" Robin gestures to you and Steve nods.

"Ice cream and movie night. Does that sound good honey?" You nod and feel extremely grateful that you have such amazing friends besides Eddie.

You would eat ice cream and mope for a while and then you would finally try and get over Eddie. It was better this way, you couldn't stand the thought of him feeling pity for you because he didn't feel the same.

It would ruin your friendship and you never wanted that to happen.

...

Things are awkward with Eddie. Extremely awkward. You don't know what to say to him and he's being overly nice and just not himself with you.

Fuck, you wish you didn't say anything, didn't go ahead with your stupid plan in the first place.

Then to make matters worse principal Higgins calls you into his office. Grudgingly you make your way there and when you enter the office he's talking to a new student that you had never seen before.

He was tall, wild curls of long blonde hair and big brown eyes, he was wearing a Black Sabbath t shirt and leather jacket. Ripped black jeans and black boots. He's glaring at Higgins.

"I don't need a babysitter dude" the principal ignores this mysterious boy and gestures to you.

"Yn will be your guide around school. Your buddy while you settle in. You've been here for two weeks and you've barely made any effort to include yourself in anything Mr Jenson"

Jenson flips Principal Higgins the bird when he's not looking and you stiffle a giggle. He winks at you and you feel your body heat up, all the way to your toes.

"Fine. Lead the way pretty lady" he gestures to you and opens the door.

Hey maybe school won't be so bad after all?

"You can join me and my friends at lunch. We sit at the our own table, the Hellfire table. We play Dungeons and Dragons" you explain and he nods along as he follows you to the cafeteria.

Quickly you explain to the boys about what the principal asked you to do.

"Jenson is new and he needs some friends, people to show him around and get him settled" Eddie who's immediately suspicious of new students, studies Jenson. His big brown eyes sweeping over him and narrowing.

You do your best to explain who everyone is and point out Chrissy and the cheerleaders, you feel that pang in your chest about Eddie again.

Jenson scoffs and turns to you. "I'm not interested in the cheerleaders. I'm interested in you, beautiful"

Wait what? You nearly choke on your can of soda and meet Jenson's eyes.

"Me?" he nods and leans closer to you, so close you can smell his spicy cologne. "Wait, what was I talking about again?" You're kinda dazed by him if you're being honest.

He smirks then leans back in his seat.

"I think I like this table" his gaze stays on you and you hear Eddie mutter something under his breath.

"This table is only for Hellfire members" Eddie's voice is tight and full of dislike. Jenson pouts and turns to you.

"You'll sit with me this week yeah? Help me get settled and all?" You nod and avoid Eddie's livid gaze.

Things will be okay after all...right?

💞

For the next week you accompany Jenson at his table. Eddie isn't happy about this.

"Eddie he's not a Hellfire member, unless you want to see if he's any good at d&d" you suggest and Eddie shakes his head vehemently.

"I don't want him in Hellfire" he pouts and it's kinda adorable. Fuck, no it's not adorable, you're trying to get over this stupid crush.

"Not even for me? He's kinda dreamy" Eddie stills at this and you look away from his fierce gaze. What's his problem anyway? Feeling brave you point out to him that you finding Jenson dreamy is a good thing.

"Things have been weird between us since...well since the other week. You made your feelings clear and I need to move on. We can still be friends and there will be no awkward tension or anything like that" Eddie looks like he's about to say something else but Jenson shows up and the conversation stalls.

"Hey princess" Okay this time Eddie definitely does stiffen and his eyes flash as they turn to Jenson.

"I call her princess, no one else does dude" Jenson snorts and claps Eddie on the shoulder.

"You can't own a name dude. Anyway she likes it when I call her princess. Don't you honey?" Oh shit. You look between the two of them and feel torn. Eddie was your friend and Jenson well maybe someday when you were over Eddie he could be more than your friend?

"Shouldn't you be chasing that cheerleader you like Munson... leave Princess to me" Jenson winks at Eddie.

Your stomach sinks as Jenson goes to wait for you at a table. How could you forget Eddie mooning over Chrissy? It hardens your resolve.

"It's just a name Eddie. Why do you care so much anyway?" you ask him and he doesn't answer. Sighing you head over to Jenson and the knot in your stomach tightens even more.

💞

Eddie is quieter than normal during today's lunch. Dustin can sense something is wrong with him but Eddie's moods could be unpredictable and he didn't want to cause his hero anymore upset.

He didn't like seeing Eddie like this though, he had a funny feeling it was to do with the blonde metalhead currently taking up all of your attention.

Doesn't Eddie notice the way your gaze still strays to him? Don't you notice the longing way Eddie gazes at you?

Then again did Eddie even realise the way he looked at you? Why were the two of you such pining idiots?

Jason who is passing the Hellfire table nudges Eddie and smirks, "Aww freak, looks like you're not the apple of her eye anymore"

Shit. If looks could kill Jason would be dead. Eddie flips him off and Jason walks away laughing.

"Asshole" he huffs and Mike chuckles. "He's right though Eddie. She definitely has a type though doesn't she?" If possible Eddie's eyes narrow even more yet Mike doesn't notice.

Dude, stop talking Dustin begs but Mike carries on oblivious. "If you didn't spend so long pining over Chrissy then you wouldn't have lost your chance dude. It sucks, I'm sorry" Eddie deflates and whispers quietly.

"Do you really think I don't have a chance anymore?"Mike shrugs and Dustin tries to give him a hopeful smile but it doesn't seem to help Eddie who settles back in his chair with a glum expression on his face.

He watches you and Jenson and sighs. "you're right Wheeler. I wasted my time pining over the wrong girl"

💞💞

Even with Jenson being sweet and obviously interested your stupid traitor heart still aches for Eddie.

Robin who likes everyone has her reservations about Jenson. "I saw him flirting with some other girl yesterday, I think he's messing with a lot of girls hearts"

The thought of Jenson doing this should hurt you but it doesn't. Fuck. This was hopeless. How would you ever get over Eddie if you couldn't open your heart to someone else.

"Munson was in here yesterday. I mentioned that Jenson dude and he kinda ranted a bit" Steve says as he stocks the video tapes on the shelves.

"He's been weird with Jenson since I started hanging out with him"

Robin exchanges a knowing look with Steve and they both say at the same time. "He's jealous"

Hope briefly encompasses you then deflates. Eddie being jealous of Jenson? That was ridiculous. Plus Eddie still liked Chrissy didn't he?

"No he's not" you shake your head adamantly but there's no changing Steve's mind.

"Honey, I'm a guy and I know when a guy is jealous. Munson is jealous of this Jenson guy. He's another metalhead honing in on his girl and Eddie is like a feral raccoon warning him off"

A feral raccoon you stifle a smile at Steve's description of Eddie. Speaking of Eddie he comes into the store with Chrissy. Oh.

Suddenly Steve's thoughts seem completely wild and far fetched. See. You try to communicate with Steve that he's completely wrong.

"I really think you should just ask Eddie" Chrissy replies to Eddie and you wonder what. Was he going to ask Chrissy out? You don't want to stick around for that.

You gather your things at the same time Eddie spots you and freezes. Chrissy smiles at you warmly and you return it even though your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest.

"Dude, did you hear that Jenson was in here wanting to ask princess out" Steve suddenly pipes up, completely out of the blue and Eddie's eyes widen as they meet yours.

Jenson hasn't asked you out. If Steve was trying to make Eddie jealous then it wasn't going to happen, you're kinda tired of hoping for something that wasn't meant to be.

"I'll see you tomorrow, gotta get home and cram for this biology test" you hurry out of the store and tj your car.

Blasting out Black Sabbath helps clear your thoughts and you're relatively more relaxed as you get home.

There's the telltale sign of Eddie's van and you nearly jump out of your skin when it comes careening around the corner.

Eddie parks the van and jumps out. His eyes are wild and he jogs over to you still looking panicked.

"Don't date him" he says breathlessly and you pause unsure if you've heard him right. Did he seriously rush all of the way here to say this and why?

"Excuse me?" What the hell was going on?

"Don't date him. He's not right for you, he's egotistical and smarmy and...and he won't treat you right or love you the way you should be loved" you raise your eyebrow and when you speak your voice comes out all shaky.

"And how should I be loved Eddie?" He softens when he gazes at you and reaches out to caress your cheek.

"Like you're everything. No other girl compares to you and you're the best thing that's ever happened to a guy. Like you're the one and you always have been"

A small part of your anger comes roaring back and you groan exasperated. "Eddie. I practically told you I was in love with you. I have been for years and you basically rejected me and now that someone else shows interest in me you get a clue!"

He shrugs sheepishly and nods, "Robin said I was the world's biggest dingus. I fucked up okay? I know that and I know that it was the shittiest time to realise how I feel but I'm begging you, give me a shot and I'll never break your heart again. I promise you that"

You've always wanted to hear him say these words and you're torn between wanting to kiss him or yell at him some more.

"What about Chrissy?"

"Chrissy was a dumb crush, even if she was interested I don't care. I'm over that. Jenson helped me see what's been in front of me all along... It's you. It's always been you"

Well damn. You're still confused though because didn't he just come to Family Video with Chrissy and she was telling him just to ask someone something.

As if Eddie reads your mind he begins to explain. "I ran into Chrissy when I was heading to Family Video and she mentioned I was unusually quiet and everything about you poured out. She was telling me to just ask you out when we were heading into the store and then I saw you and I choked"

You bite back a smile and move closer to him, the need to kiss him feels a little overwhelming now.

"You really are an idiot Eddie but you're my idiot" you add affectionately and he kisses you. It leaves you momentarily stunned at how amazing it feels but then you're kissing him back.

When the two of you break apart you're both breathless, eyes shining and happiness written all over your faces.

"Shit, uh I was thinking maybe I could take you on a date. Maybe we could go to Lovers Lake and camp out for a little bit. Thought it would be romantic sweetheart"

"It's a date" you press another kiss to his lips and head into his van leaving a dazed and smug Eddie strutting to the van once he realised what you said.

💞

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 24: Behind the Scenes

Word Count: 701/Rating: T/Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader/CW: Eddie's got a crush, theatre girl!Reader, reader wears a dress, one dirty joke thanks to Gareth/Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, theatre girl!Reader, Principal Higgins

Divider credit to @silkholland

“This is all your fault,” Gareth hissed at Eddie. “I should be behind the bleachers, making out with Annie right now.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, swiping a paint brush over a two-by-four. “Sure, blame the guy standing up to The Man. Let’s not consider that Principal Higgins was the one who banned us from the talent show.”

Jeff hiked up his sleeves and grabbed the nearest hammer, ready to construct the Scarecrow’s perch. “Higgins didn’t ‘ban’ us,” he countered. “He just told us we couldn’t play War Pigs.”

“And that’s better?” Eddie shook his head. “No, we were given freedom of speech for a reason! We should be able to play whatever we goddamn want!”

Mrs. Porter, the school play’s director, glared at him and shushed. Eddie held up his hands in surrender, but continued complaining in a loud whisper. 

“All I’m saying is, if he didn’t want us putting on our own lunchtime performance, he should’ve let us do our thing at the talent show.”

“I think the lunch ladies enjoyed it,” Grant chimed in, earning himself a thwack in the back of the head from Jeff. 

Eddie was about to thank him for his support, but a flash of pink caught his eye. You were standing in front of the girl playing Dorothy and twirling in your Glinda dress. After a few spins, you got dizzy, and Dorothy caught you as you both burst into laughter.

Gareth resumed his rant, oblivious to Eddie’s sudden smittenness. “I’d rather play Girls Just Wanna Have Fun than build sets for the fuckin’ school play.” He held the perch in place so Jeff could hammer in the nail. “At least we could write lyrics and plan campaigns in regular deten–are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?” Eddie blinked a few times, snapping himself out of his daze. “Yeah. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Got it.”

“What’re you looking at?” Grant peered around one of the fighting trees, his face splitting into a grin when he saw. “Oh, that’s why you’re not pitching a fit about this set design detention.”

Jeff batted his eyelashes flirtatiously. “Eddie, do you have the hots for the fairy princess?”

“Shut up!” Eddie grumbled. “And she’s not a fairy princess; she’s Glinda the Good Witch.”

The backup guitarist put up his hands in mock surrender. “My apologies.” 

“You gonna ask her to play with your wand?” Gareth snickered, but he quickly stopped once Eddie shot him a look that could kill.

You disappeared back into the makeshift dressing room, and Eddie let out a silent sigh of relief. He might not be able to stare at you from afar, but at least he could think about you without the guys interfering. The subject naturally shifted to the songs they wanted to add to their setlist for their Hideout gigs, and Eddie was in the clear.

Until.

“Those look great!” 

Eddie’s head shot up at the sound of your voice. His cheeks reddened and his mouth relaxed into a sheepish grin.

“Thanks, yeah. I’m not much of an artist–like, a painting artist. I band. Um, I mean, I play in a band. So, like, music artist. I do music. Yeah.”

You raised your eyebrows, clearly unsure how to interpret his rambling. “Well, a music artist is still an artist.”

“Yeah.” Christ, Munson; is that the only word you know?

Gareth was more than happy to supply further conversation. “Sorry, he’s kind of an idiot around girls he’s hopelessly in love with.”

‘I hate you’ was perched on Eddie’s tongue, but you stepped in. You paid no attention to the menace-formerly-known-as-Gareth as you spoke directly to Eddie. “Well, we always need music artists to help make the orchestra pit fuller. If you’re interested.”

“No–I mean, yeah, I’m interested. Super interested.” The paint brush clattered to the ground, but he barely noticed. “Where do I sign up?”

As Eddie followed you to where the orchestra conductor was tuning violins, Gareth leaned closer to the two remaining bandmates. “Think it’s a good idea to tell him that Higgins is technically the reason why he got to talk to his dream girl?”

Jeff clapped a hand on the drummer’s back. “Good luck with that.”

--

[wheels-of-despair]

Brawl in Hallway B Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: You mess with the Dungeon Master, you get the Hellfire Horns… or something. Or: Eddie, Evil Woman & Co. have had enough. Contains: Jocks saying awful things, Hellfire retaliating, lots of violence, brief appearances by lesser-seen Hellfire Parents. Words: 1.7k

"This is your final reminder to have your parent/teacher conference slips filled out and returned by tomorrow," Higgins drones during a special post-bell announcement that nobody cares about.

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Eddie mumbles, dumping his books into his locker.

"You should show up as your own guardian," you joke. "Not as Student Eddie, but as Guardian Eddie. Do not acknowledge that you're the same person. Demand to know how young Edward is doing in class."

"Higgins," he says in his deep Dungeon Master voice, "Your treatment of Edward Munson is despicable. In fact, the bias you show toward every non-bootlicker in this school is downright disgusting. If you do not issue a formal apology and resign before the end of the week, you will be hearing from my lawyers."

You snort.

"I guess the freak doesn't have to worry about parent/teacher conferences," a loud voice calls from down the hallway. You and Eddie slowly turn to see a crew of goons in letterman jackets approaching. "Since he's the same age as the teachers."

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns back his locker. Yet another pathetic attempt to provoke Eddie into getting himself in trouble and prevent him from graduating. He's used to it. He knows better.

"I thought it was because his parents are dead," one of them smirks.

Eddie freezes.

"Just the old lady," someone corrects him. "I heard his old man beat her to death. Too bad the cops came before he had a chance to finish the job."

Steam begins to pour out of Eddie's ears.

"But no, the freak survived, and his creepy old uncle took him in. Wonder what was in it for him?"

Eddie's fists clench. You can feel your own blood pressure rising. Graduation. Think of graduation.

"I heard they share a bed in their shitty little trailer," one of them laughs. "Maybe that's why the freak's hair is so long. Closest thing to a woman the old man can get."

"Nah," another guy cuts in. "Why do you think Munson keeps making friends with the underclassmen? He's bringing home new holes!"

You and Eddie both snap at the same time, dropping your shit on the floor and advancing with balled fists.

Your eyes lock on the one doing most of the talking, but before you can reach him, a red blur tackles him to the floor. It takes you a second to realize that it's Gareth. Gareth threw the first punch. Er, executed the first tackle. Jeff and Grant rush in, too. Eddie's locked in combat with someone twice his size. You pick another target and fling yourself at him, fist first.

You know in cartoon fights, where it's just a cloud of limbs and someone sticking their head out to gasp for breath every once in a while? That's how it felt. You bite, you scratch, you claw, you think you might've heard a bone crack. You definitely caused a black eye. And got one, too.

Next thing you know, someone has a death grip on your upper arms and is dragging you backwards through the hallway. The rubber of your sneakers catches and squeaks on the floor. You watch them in a daze, feeling them pull at your legs when they stick on the over-polished floor.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Eddie roars. You twist, trying to locate him in the chaos. A teacher has Eddie shoved against a locker; one of his meaty hands holds the back of Eddie's neck and squishes his face into the metal, and the other holds his twisted arm behind his back.

You start to fight again, trying to lose your own captor and get to Eddie.

"Young lady, you stop that!" You sink your teeth into a hairy wrist, and he yowls and lets go. You scramble off the floor and run toward Eddie, hunching over and letting your shoulder do the work; you catch the teacher holding him in the side, and he stumbles out of the way.

You and Eddie hold onto each other and survey the carnage. The jocks are standing together, like good little boys, across the hallway. Nobody's trying to restrain them.

Jeff, Grant and Gareth are out of breath and leaning against the lockers near you, two teachers standing in front of them with hands at the ready in case they try anything. They all have bloody noses, blooming bruises, and look like total bad-asses.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Higgins roars, skidding into the hallway in his cheap loafers.

"Those freaks attacked us for no reason!" one of the jocks cries.

Gareth spits, and - from across the fucking hallway - lands his bloody glob of saliva on the H of a Hawkins High letterman jacket.

You don't even have time to be proud of him; it's back on. The freaks and the jocks take another run at each other, and by the time your bruises have bruises, the coach is blowing his whistle and you're being shoved face-first against a locker by what you assume is a teacher who tells you to "calm down, young lady." You respond with a stomp to his foot that makes him grunt.

When you're all separated again, the groups are escorted in opposite directions. Well, the jocks are escorted. The freaks are hauled to the front office by shirt collars and too-tight grips on arms. You hope it fucking bruises so your mother can threaten to press charges.

You're dumped in a conference room, told to "sit down and shut up," and left there to rot. Higgins is probably getting the jocks' side of the story first.

Nobody sits in the chairs.

Grant hovers by the door and glares out the tiny window pane. Jeff and Gareth lie back on the table, resting their feet on the chairs. You sit on the edge of the table, letting your legs swing back and forth. Eddie paces.

"C'mere," you mumble when he starts to drive you crazy. Eddie comes to stand between your legs, resting his hands on your knees. You wince, and he slides his palms to your hips instead. You reach up and brush his hair out of his face, revealing a bloody cut near his hairline and a blooming black eye. He cradles your face, fingers tracing your split lip.

"You okay?" you whisper. He nods.

"You?"

"Be a lot better if I knew there was at least one jock casualty," you wink. With the eye that's swelling. "Ow."

Eddie grins, stretching his own split lip. "Ow."

You're both hit with a tragic case of the giggles, and he wraps his arms around you so you can lean your head on his shoulder and shake together.

"Alright," you sigh when you pull it together, "You're an expert in this field. What happens next?"

Eddie blows out a long, slow breath.

"You're all getting calls home and probably suspensions. I'm history."

"Like hell, you are," you grumble.

"It's okay," he says quietly.

"No, the fuck it's not," you argue.

"I had a good run," he shrugs and winces. "Ow. Your mom's gonna hate me for getting you guys in trouble."

"No, she's not," Gareth grunts, sitting up. "You protected us, like always. She's gonna rip Higgins a new one if he tries to expel you."

"He's right," you smile at Eddie, straightening the crooked battle vest he'd been dragged here by. "For once."

Grant backs away from the door, and the vice principal steps inside. You all cross your arms and glare in his direction.

"Your parents are in the process of being notified," he informs you. "You'll be called in one at a time as they arrive to discuss the repercussions of your behavior." And then he walks out and closes the door.

"Kay, guess we'll just wait here, then!" Eddie yells.

The room is filled with cackling.

After half an hour, you start guessing whose parent is going to spring them first. Which is no fun, because the answer is obviously Grant's mom. After forty-five minutes, you start to wonder what's taking so long. An hour into your detainment, Gareth's contemplating peeing on a fake plant. As soon as he reaches for his zipper, the door opens.

"You're all free to go," Higgins says tensely. "Your parents are waiting for you in the lobby."

"What's the damage, Hig-Man?" Eddie asks.

"One week of detention, and you'll all be helping out at the school carnival."

"…that's it?" you ask.

Higgins eyes land on you and narrow.

"Yes," he says bitterly. "Get out."

You don't have to be told twice. You all rush toward the door, down the hallway, through the front office, and into the lobby. Everyone's parental units, minus Uncle Wayne, are waiting. You all cautiously approach your parents. Eddie comes with you.

"What just happened?" you ask your mom quietly.

"Oh, nothing," she shrugs. "Just fumed all the way over here and happened to catch everyone's parents before they went in. We presented a united front. Mentioned how shitty a job that snotty little man has been doing at disciplining the athletes for their constant harassment. Did you know that Grant's mother keeps an actual log of things those pricks do to you guys? Those little assholes' reign of terror really adds up on paper. No wonder you guys finally snapped."

You and Eddie and Gareth stand there in shock.

"What do you say we grab a pizza or two on the way home?" she asks.

"Uh…" the three of you glance at each other, still processing.

"I'll take that as a yes." She turns to the rest of the group. "Since the bulk of the delinquents belong to me, I'm buying. Anyone else want to come along for pizza at our place?"

"I should get my son to the doctor," Grant's mother says worriedly, reaching out to touch his bruised face.

"Mom!" he huffs, embarrassed, shooting her a warning look with his eyes. The rest of you try to hide your smiles, for Grant's sake.

"Well…" Jeff's parents look at each other and consider it. "Sure, why not?" his dad laughs. "We'll stop by the grocery store on the way and grab salad fixings."

"Come on, Gertie," your mom smiles at Grant's mom. "I've heard that pizza with your friends can really expedite the healing process."

She caves.

And that's how you kicked ass, ate pizza, and… had to work the school carnival?!

[benedictscanvas]

hi!! i would love a jamie comforting the reader fic <33 i know this is so so vague LOL but i love a good comfort moment 🫶

so do i anon, this is right up my street! i hope this is similar to what you what looking for <3 this is partly based on some of the scenes at the recent west ham europe final which was just crazy | 1.8k words, tw fighting, reader gets caught & hurt in the middle, language, hurt/comfort

4-0 to Richmond was exactly the result that everyone needed; the players, the coaches, everyone surrounding the club. It had been a tricky few months, results coming and going, but to get a strong win against a mid-table club felt like a step in the right direction after the winter break. From your spot up in the owners’ box, you could see how ecstatic the boys’ celebrations were on the pitch, and you were practically matching them, jumping around with Rebecca, Keeley and the Higgins’.

During their lap around the pitch to clap the fans, Jamie waved at you like a madman while you blew him kisses, both giddy. He made a C with his hand, which always meant to meet him in the private staff car park as soon as possible, and you nodded furiously so that he’d see.

“Meeting Jamie in the car park?” Keeley asks, still grinning as you nod yet again, “I’ll meet Roy there too. It’ll probably only be a twenty minute team talk before they’re allowed a bit of family time after such a good fucking win.”

“Then let’s go!” you laugh, bending down to pick up your handbag.

Something hits you right in the forehead. Hard.

You stumble backwards with nowhere to go, ending up half on the floor, with one arm holding yourself up against your seat. Your vision was swimming, but you could make out an object by your feet that looked like a water bottle, but it must have been almost full to cause such an impact.

“Shit, babe!” Keeley was exclaiming, quick to crouch down to you, “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you murmur, still a little dazed, but your vision was clearing quickly. It had hit you in the temple, and the shock was staving off some of the pain for now, but you still wavered a little when you let Keeley help you up, “What the fuck?”

“I don’t-”

There was something else flying towards the box and this time, you and Keeley had the sense to duck down and cover your heads. Higgins was shielding his wife, you saw, while Rebecca was trying to usher people inside. When you risked a look downwards at the stands, there were a few men, clearly from the opposing team, who’d decided to make their frustrations with their team known, a small brawl underway between them and the unlucky Richmond fans they’d come across. It was only getting worse each passing second. Feeling something kick in within you, you turn and rush to the doorway, shouting for the security in the hospitality area to follow you back outside as you pointed towards what was happening.

It was at this point more and more security were alerted, and soon, there were enough of them to form a barrier between the two sets of fans, even though insults were still being thrown, along with the occasional plastic cup, water bottle and even one phone. Unable to drag yourself away until you knew the Richmond fans were safe, despite Keeley tugging at you to leave, you spot a woman with her little girl in the fray, looking scared out of their skin even as it died down. You manage to free yourself of Keeley as you step over the low barrier and make your way down the steps to them, pushing past whoever you needed to.

“Hey, this way, yeah?” you said to them softly, reaching for the little girl and picking her up as you carried her back towards the owners’ box along with her mother. There was a particularly angry opposition fan you passed on the way, and even though a security guard was holding him back, he still managed to get a grip on your arm, scratching down the length of it as you brought your arm up to keep the girl safe. Ignoring the fresh pain, you get them inside, then look back for any more people in need.

Higgins had clearly had the same thought as you, leading a group of young boys into the owners’ box to escape things. Soon enough, Rebecca was opening up the barrier and letting the Richmond fans leave through hospitality if they were close enough, with the rest slipping out through an exit behind them while security kept hold of the small group of awful fans. It was finally over, and whilst you’d lost the mother and girl in the crowd, you knew they were safe and it was enough.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Keeley asks, then hisses when you look up at her, “Fucking hell. We need to get you to one of the medics, now.”

“It’s not so bad, I promise. Probably looks worse,” you say, trying to reassure her and yourself, because by the look on her face you must have looked pretty bad, “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

Keeley shook her head solemnly as she linked arms with you, presumably to steer you towards a medic despite your protests. You’d been attending matches long before you started dating Jamie, but you’d still never experienced anything like that.

Jamie. You hope he hadn’t still been on the pitch when that started, because you knew he’d be beside himself.

“Where the fuck is she? Y/N? Fuckin’ get off me!”

Your heart drops into your stomach when you hear him, how frantic he sounds. You turn towards the staircase, now clear of fans again, and see him running up the steps, followed by a guard trying to stop him and failing miserably. He scans the room before his eyes land on you and his whole body deflates with relief as he jogs over. Keeley takes a step back as he takes you firmly in his arms, clutching you to him as tightly as he ever had. You can feel your own body relaxing under his touch.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jamie speaks into your neck, still clinging to you just as you were to him, “We were jus’ leavin’ the pitch and then someone points and you’re gettin’ shit fuckin’ thrown at ya? Wait, did they get you, baby?”

He leans back to inspect you, eyes immediately zoning in on your forehead with misery in his eyes. You see his bottom lip quiver and you’re quick to try and pull him back into you but he’s stock still in shock as he stares. It must’ve been a really bad lump if this was the reaction you were getting.

“Jamie, I’m fine,” you say slowly, tipping his chin towards you to make sure he’s looking in your eyes rather than at your injury, “All fine. I promise.”

“Y’ not fuckin’ fine,” he murmurs, ghosting a finger over the bump. You shiver, “We’re gettin’ this checked, yeah?”

“That’s what I said,” Keeley pipes up, still standing off to the side, “Actually, I’ll go get someone. You two stay here, avoid everyone staring at…”

She trails off as she gestures vaguely to your forehead and you giggle at her as she leaves. So it definitely looked bad. You bring your own hand up to touch it, but immediately regret the pain that flares up in its wake. Jamie was quick to reach up and pull your own hand away, kissing each knuckle, then each fingertip. Slow, reverent. You melt into him as much as you can whilst standing up.

“Tried to climb the barriers,” he admits quietly, “I couldn’t see ya, jus’ all the pricks who started everythin’ and I needed to- I dunno. Some prick guard pulled me away.”

“I’m very glad he did,” you soothe, “You can’t score a hat trick and get in a fight all in the same day. Hope this doesn’t steal any of your praise away.”

“Couldn’t give a fuck about the match,” he says, frustrated, “You’re hurt, babe. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You wish he hadn’t asked twice. The adrenaline is wearing off and you’re starting to feel a bit of that panic you should have had in the moment creeping in. You nod your head yes, but don’t trust yourself to speak. Jamie understands immediately.

“Oh babe,” he says quietly, stroking a hand up and down your neck, “It’s okay. Promise. I‘m so sorry I wasn’t ‘ere for ya, like.”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, a little choked, enough that he’s pulling you into him again, wrapping you in another crushing hug. It’s just the right amount of pressure to make you feel better, breathing him in and holding him close.

“‘Course you’ll be fine. Got me, ain’t ya?” he says, pulling a laugh from you just as he’d hoped. He leads you over to one of the sofas near the window and sits you down, wrapping you right up in his arms again once your settled, knees tucked into his chest as he tugs you into his lap.

“Really proud of you,” you say quietly, and he just kisses the top of your head, clearly unwilling to discuss the match as he rubs a hand down your arm. But it’s the one some dickhead clawed at, and you can’t hide your wince. Jamie clocks it immediately and peers down at your arm.

“Little fuckers,” he snarls, but you know there isn’t any anger directed at you, “How’d they get this fuckin’ close to ya, love?”

Ah. You didn’t think he’d like this part of the story.

“There was this little girl and her mum, down in the stands. I couldn’t just leave them there, Jamie,” you stare up at him, almost pleading for him to understand, “I grabbed them and brought them out through here. I know, it was stupid, but-”

The tears in his eyes stop you from continuing. You put a hand on his face but he shakes you away, clearing his throat.

“Jus’ don’t know how I got meself such a fuckin’ gem,” he says, laughing wetly at himself, “I wish you hadn’t got fuckin’ hurt, god, but I jus’- you’re so good, you know?”

You glow under his praise, settling into his side so he can’t see you grinning at his words. You tug his arm around you and place a series of kisses along his bicep and back down again.

“You would’ve done the same,” you say, meaning every word, “You’re good too, Jamie.”

“Guess I must be,” he agrees breathily, pressing kiss after kiss into the top of your head, “I’ll make sure I am for you, y’ know? And I’ll take care of ya too, y’ know that right?”

“Yeah I know, Jamie.”

You sink even further into his embrace, aimlessly hoping that the medic never comes and that you might just be able to stay like this forever.

---

aaah if you read this far i love you!! i've been away in london so i'm sorry for the inactivity - i will catch up on asks tomorrow and am posting this right before i sleep so i am at least feeding you some content!! and then lots of drabbles to come this weekend <3 <3

[moljh]

Starts With A Pen

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve Harrington likes to flirt with you during class but is definitely not prepared for what you have to say one day.

Fluff, flirting, vague mentions of sex

Unedited - quick idea put together

You had an extra long history class to end the day every Monday, which was just a cruel way to start the school week. Most of your classmates were already exhausted and weren't even thinking about class at this point in the day.

You were trying your best to focus on the monotone drawl of Mr Higgins at the front of the class but you felt you mind drifting. He was talking about some sort of ancient civilisation when the door to the classroom swung open.

It was no surprise who waltzed into the class, late as usual, the king himself. Steve Harrington merely nodded at your teacher, no questions or excuses were exchanged, he was far above that, exempt from regular treatment.

In the short few steps he took to reach his own seat, you could've sworn every girl in the class had awoken from a daze at the mere presence of the boy. Their wandering eyes, watched him at he wove between the desks and unfortunately took his assigned seat beside you.

You couldn't lie, Steve Harrington was an attractive person, he had a certain typical beauty about him. Though any romantic feelings you had towards him were eradicated the moment he opened his mouth.

Flopping down into the seat beside you, he didn't even bother to take out a notebook, just leant back in the chair and stared at the ceilings. You however, despite the enticement of distraction, had to try and at least take notes, as you were afforded the luxury of falling back on a parents money after graduation. You had goals of collage and hopefully a good one, the further from Hawkins the better.

As time seemed the slowly tick by, the room fell back into its usual atmosphere. Heads fell back onto desks, people resumed whispered conversations and Mr Higgins continued the lesson, seemingly not by those not paying attention; as he too was looking forward to the final bell.

You were mindlessly scribbling down notes when your left arm was poked "Hey"

Turning towards the offender, you shot a look of dismissal at the boy sitting next to you

But once again he poked you "Hey"

"What?" you quickly replied, tone laced with a bit more anger than you meant

"Do you have a pen?"

"Yes"

"Well can I borrow it?"

"You don't even have a book with you"

"Who said I was writing in a book"

Rolling your eyes, you bent down and grabbed your spare pen and handed it to him.

"Thanks" he said

You tried to not take any notice of him, as he doodled on the corner of his side of the desk. Finally the bell sounded and everyone practically leapt up from their seats and fled the room. Packing up your things you realised Harrington had already left, but smiled when you saw the pen placed in the centre of the desk. You were honestly surprised he hadn't just taken it.

Just as luck would have it, you had the exact same class on a Friday afternoon, which was possibly more torturous than the Monday. This time souls were withering and the will to live was slim. It was the final class of the last day of the week and it seemed to go on for longer than anything in human history. Well you may have exaggerated slightly, but it couldn't have been a worst timetable schedule.

Once again, approximately 10 minutes into the lesson, Steve Harrington arrived; late and without an excuse. Again he wandered into the classroom and flopped down next to you.

"Can I borrow a pen?" he asked you once more

"Fine" was all you bothered to say, knowing he'd at least leave it

The class proceeded as normal for a while longer until Harrington once again caught your attention.

"You coming to my party tonight?" he asked you

"I don't know, depends if I can get a lift" you replied honestly, not taking your eyes away from the blackboard up front

"Well you betta, can't have a pretty girl sitting at home by herself all night"

You just chuckled at his comment and tried to focus on you notes.

"What a guy can't pay a gorgeous girl a compliment?" he asked, seemingly confused by your reaction

"Not when it's coming from someone who's used that line about a million times"

He seemed to not know how to reply to that and the conversation ended.

This routine continued for a while. Harrington would arrive to class late, borrow your pen for some reason and hopelessly attempt to flirt with you the entire time.

It was approaching exam week and this particular lesson regarding what to expect during the assessment was quite important to you. However, as usual Steve Harrington wasn't allowing you to focus.

He had progressed to drawing small images on the corner of your pages and whispering in your ear to get your attention. Usually you didn't that much, your quick remarks came easily, but today you needed to pay attention.

"You know if you just gave me a chance I'd make it worth your while" Steve whispered

Turning towards the grinning boy, you were fed up with him more than usual in that moment. Leaning in closely, you brought your lips so close you could feel them brushing against his ear.

"Unless you're going to bend me over this desk right this second and fuck me in front of everyone until I can't walk, I'd appreciate if you would shut the fuck up and let me concentrate"

You'd honestly never seen someone so awestruck. Steve just sat in front of you frozen, mouth agape. Happy with your message, you turned back and followed the lesson until the bell sounded.

Grateful it was the weekend you gathered your things and went to close you notebook when you save something scribbled down at the bottom of the page. Looking closer you smirked at what was written.

'Good thing I have a desk at home too'

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

A Freak and a Basket Case: Chapter Two: Made in Heaven

From the Delulu Writer: You’re going to realize that I don’t write short fics. This was straight from Google Docs mobile. I don’t know how long this is, so fuck it we ball. I’m hoping the generous Eddie POV helps break this aversion to longer fics.

Warnings: Flight of Icarus spoilers, references to drug use, minor suicide mention.

[Masterlist] - Chapter One - Chapter Two (You are Here) - [Latest]

***

The ’85-’86 academic year had to be his year.

It had to be.

It was his last shot. The last hoorah. He had just barely made the cutoff age for the academic year, and it was a miracle in itself that Principal Higgins had a modicum of decency to give him a break and let him even try to attend school again. He would be cutting it too close for comfort, and during the summer Eddie Munson had promised his uncle that he would get his head out of his ass this time around. No more screw ups. No more bullshit scams.

That promise was made in summer, when he was still able to sleep in, hotbox the feelings of shame and guilt away in his van, and gorge on junk food during unholy hours of the early morning before passing out until noon.

Now that he was being jolted awake by both the shrill sound of the radio alarm, and his uncle was kicking his mattress to wake him up at four thirty in the morning before he’d even gotten a good chance at sleep, Eddie was ready to throw in the fucking towel. Bitter thoughts swarmed in his mind.

Fuck it. Kick me out of school. See if I give two shits.

He was at the point where he was forgetting what was important. Last year was a year of losses. Almost losing the Hellfire Club to bullshit blackmail orchestrated by a sadistic son of a bitch of a principal that he did not fully trust. Ronnie had at least reached out via letter after a time, and she sent a few clipped sentences written with an electric typewriter all the way from New York whenever she had enough money left over from dorm expenses to buy postage stamps. But Dougie had gone nuclear. Never quite forgiving his friend for what he had almost undone.

And then there was Paige…

Eddie had been thinking of that mess nonstop the first day back for some reason, running late stuck behind a green Dodge with wood paneling while also battling the commuters during the clusterfuck that constituted rush hour in Hawkins, Indiana. He didn’t know why he was in such a hurry when that morning he’d been ready to give up all over again. Emotions were running high and low, he felt like he was trapped on a broken-down roller coaster falling apart on a shoddy side of the road carnival. Wanting to jump off, throw up, scream, and cry all at once as the reality of everything set in.

Eddie Munson had fucked everything up. Once in a lifetime opportunities lost to the ages in the year of 1984.

’86 had to be his year. Otherwise, he had nothing else left.

He was on his way to his locker when a string bean of a freshman wearing khakis and a button down polo from the GAP slammed into him from behind. Eddie immediately turned around to catch him before he hit the ground, asking the dazed boy if he was okay, confirming it was so, then looking towards the source. He assumed it was a jock, it always was, but he saw no suspicious hunter green letterman jackets lurking in the throng of students looking to get to their classes.

And then there was the gaggle of girls laughing and pointing, but he couldn’t see the object of their teasing because once he came within five feet of their gaggle they saw Eddie the Freak and bolted. So far the first day back was shaping up to be one of those weird days, whispers abound of some bitch of a basket case wandering around dressed for a cold front in August.

For obvious reasons, Eddie was intrigued. A bitch of a basket case was new. Especially ones wearing winter coats in summer when the humidity drowned you before the heat got to you. He doubted there was any merit to the rumors truth be told, but he had to see it for himself. He searched high and low, ditching his first period class to see if he could catch a glimpse. And then like an answer to his prayers he heard a siren call:

Metallica on cassette. Kill ‘Em All Album. Side 1. Approximately thirty nine minutes and six seconds into the album. Track number nine. Seek and Destroy.

Blasting so goddamned loud that from his distance it sounded faint, but he knew that whoever was listening to it directly would be deaf before their twenty-first birthday.

He saw you beelining for the front door, and instantly Eddie was fascinated by you. Sure enough you were all bundled up in your quilted Carhartt jacket like a blue collar worker braving a blizzard, gray skirt swishing as you power walked down the hall. The music beckoned to him, and the Black Sabbath patch on your blue backpack encouraged him to follow. Despite the stormy look on your face and the fuck off aura radiating from you, Eddie couldn’t help but allow the admiration to take over. He wasn’t intimidated, he wasn’t repulsed by your demeanor or appearance. Quite the contrary, Eddie could see something in the way your body communicated to the world:

You were a lost, pathetic little lamb trying to butt heads with everyone and everything, unaware that the world was fanged and scary and could spit you out in a malformed bolus should it desire.

And yet you still kept trying to fight back.

It was as if his body was moving of his own accord. His heart knew before his brain could logically process what was happening. A compulsion, his inner wild child, sent signals to his feet to quicken his pace as he raced after you, adrenaline coursing through him as he heard nothing but the steady pace of your gait matching the pulse of Seek and Destroy. Eddie didn’t stop until he was so close he was breathing in your scent, and in a sudden burst of confidence, both hands flashed out and snatched you by the backpack straps, pulling you in until you were flush against him. He yanked off your headphones, getting in close until his lips were grazing the shell of your ear.

“You’ve got bitchin’ taste in music there, princess. Metallica, right?”

Your scream cut off the last bit, and he held onto you like he was holding a wild stallion steady as you jumped nearly ten feet in the air. You were still pressed with your backpack to his chest, your own little chest heaving with fear.

“FUCK ME FREDDY!” You hollered. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Eddie laughed hard as he spun you around to face him, hands steadying your shoulders as he looked you in the eye with a large smile on his face.

“Sorry, sorry… Relax. Didn’t mean to scare you there. But hey, at least that got your attention, right?”

You hit the pause button on your Walkman and killed the music, looking up with a stormy and defiant expression. Eddie realized something when you looked at him: you had been hiding behind fear. Your eyes, minimized by the thick coke bottle lenses within the frames of your glasses, began to soften when you looked at him. He could see the tightly wound tension leave your body as you relaxed. Your facade was slipping. Before him was an individual army crawling through hell to survive.

“You uh… you heard my music huh?” you said quietly.

Eddie grinned, nodding enthusiastically.

“Oh yeah. From all the way down the hall. You like Metallica?” he asked.

“Uh huh…”

Eddie grinned at the shy answer. God… You were adorable.

“Hell yeah, good taste. Metallica is one of my favorites too.”

He noticed you weren’t much for eye contact. As much as he tried to meet your gaze you wouldn’t look right at him. It seemed as if you were closing yourself off from everyone, a purposeful and calculated act. Understandable if he was being honest. Your eyes were red rimmed and your nose was still dripping a little bit. The morning must not have been kind. For a moment he saw your vulnerability, and it endeared him to you.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.” he said gently, holding out his hand.

“Eddie?” You cocked your head to the side, sweet little face looking up at him as if expecting a trick.

“Yup.” he popped the consonant at the end, and he tried to give you a sweet disarming smile to show his sincerity, “That’s me, Eddie Munson.”

Gently, slowly, he felt your warm hand envelop his. He shook it just enough; not too firm of a handshake that he scared you off, but not so weak that it seemed he didn’t want to touch you. Because if the way his heart was racing at the feel of your warm palm against his was any indication, he very much did want to touch you, and he wanted to make sure you knew it.

A few seconds ticked by, and you finally told him your name after letting go of his hand. He noticed at first that you seemed to try saying something else, but you quickly corrected yourself. Eddie repeated your name slowly. It suited you. Very lovely. Silence for a beat, and then you gulped and spoke up to end the silence.

“My favorite person in the whole wide world is an Eddie…” you mumbled softly.

“Yeah? Who’s this other Eddie?” He raised an eyebrow, dimples showing with the big cheeser he had on his face as he noticed you still weren’t letting go of his hand.

“Eddie V-… Eddie Van Halen…” you stammered.

Eddie’s heart nearly stopped.

“No way, are you shitting me right now?” he demanded.

You shook your head.

“No… I’ve seen him live… he’s… he’s really cool.”

Inhale through the nose, hold for five seconds, exhale through the mouth so he didn’t start having a heart attack.

“How the hell did you end up going to one of those concerts?” He managed

“… my dad. Last year... He took me for an early birthday present…”

So you’ve got good taste in music, and you have a dad that takes you to concerts like Van Halen as an early birthday present…

“They were pit side. I got one of the shirts at my house.”

God dammit… No. There’s no way. There’s no way in the hell that you’re real…

“Which concert was it?” He croaks tentatively.

“The 1984 Tour… I saw them and Autograph play… in Albuquerque.”

He had to stop you right there.

“Okay wait hold on, your dad seriously took you out of Indiana all the way into the middle of nowhere in New Mexico just to see Van Halen for your birthday?! Where in hell do you even live where that seems like a feasible option?! That’s a twelve hour drive at least!”

“I used to live in New Mexico.” You said softly. “I’m not from here…”

Yeah, yeah of course you weren’t from Hawkins. There was no way in shit someone as cool as you, someone who had been pit side to Van fucking Halen, could be from Indiana. It almost gave him flashbacks to shades of his ex, and he nearly wanted to pull away from the conversation. Yet you were so sweet, so different, and he knew if he let you just become a random anecdote in the annals of time, Eddie would have thrown up for weeks and then jumped into traffic if he saw you being poached by someone else.

He pressed on. Heart racing and trying to maintain so that he didn’t spook you.

“Could have fooled me, you don’t have the accent for it.” Eddie said, leaning up against one of the tan lockers.

You hesitated and bit your lower lip, nodding and rocking side to side on your feet as you began to pluck at the loose threads of your jacket.

“… people here don’t like to hear it. So I cover it up…” you said.

“Good idea. Because honestly, it’s not worth the trouble… You’re in Hicksville now. Hawkins isn’t the first narrow minded white bread town, and it’s not going to be the last. Especially if you don’t fit in with their good ol’ boys club mold. Hell, I don’t even fit in it. I’m the biggest target for these bigoted assholes with my reputation. I don’t doubt you’ll get the same amount of bullshit I do.”

“You…?” You blinked, confusion written on your face, “Why would anyone make fun of you?”

Harsh laughter erupted from his throat, and he was so consumed by the absurdity of your question that he didn’t notice you flinch back. As if he was being crucified, Eddie held out his arms dramatically wide, his battle vest opening up to show off his Led Zeppelin baseball tee with a couple of holes in the fabric where the rivets on his jeans had been rubbing against them.

“Take a good look at The Freak of Hawkins High sugarplum. I’m a long haired satan worshiping metalhead cult leader. I play shitty Pantera and Slayer covers in a dive bar every week. I deal drugs to the preppy kids that have more money than sense. I lure innocents in to play my little satanic Dungeons and Dragons games, and then I hotbox it in my van afterwards with them. I’m a Munson, furthest thing from a good little schoolboy. No, no, we Munsons drop out of high school and go to jail young, and probably die young too.”

He went on and on, the word vomit not stopping. If he was going to be honest with himself, he knew this potential thing you two had was dead on arrival from the moment you opened your mouth and started talking about Van Halen. You were way out of his league, even by metalhead standards. From what he gathered, you had deep pockets, or at least your dad did if he was able to take you to shit like Van Halen concerts, something Eddie could only dream of. Everything about this was scary. It was scary and horrifying and the only thing he could think of doing was self sabotaging before he got too attached to you.

And then you frowned, still looking at the floor, until you spoke up, looking him directly in his eyes.

“That doesn’t make no sense… Sounds like a bunch of horseshit to me.” You said simply.

He watched it all happen so suddenly and he couldn’t look away. His large brown eyes widening and his heart turning cartwheels in his chest when he saw the little twinkles of light, the little pinpricks of stars beginning to glimmer in your eyes as you held direct eye contact with him. It wasn’t just that you were cute, because Jesus H. Christ you were the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life. There were other things he’d never seen on anyone he’d dated: honest to god romance novel pining on your face, your soft lips parting slightly as if you wanted to speak but had lost the words. Your body moved in closer to him, and his own reciprocated purely on instinct, inviting you into his space.

Magnetism.

“None of it makes any sense does it?” He said, voice so low you had to lean further in to hear him, “But this is Hawkins. Judgemental jackanapes abound and people like you and me are lambasted for the crime of being different. Double for you I’m guessing, since you’re the new Hispanic kid in town.”

You nodded, looking hopefully at him.

“Let me guess, you had an easier time fitting in when you were in New Mexico, right?” He asked.

There was a brief hesitation as you gathered your thoughts.

“… Kind of. Maybe not towards the end, but there’s a lot of guys into heavy metal and leather and stuff. A lot of my tios- my uncles- are rockers. My brother likes it too.”

“Older or younger brother?” He asked.

“Older…”

“He get you into metal?” He grinned.

“Yeah.” You said, nodding, “He started me on Black Sabbath and Ozzy, my favorites other than Van Halen. My dad was the one who showed me Van Halen… oh, and Dio…”

“Rad… your dad and your brother got you set up with the best of the best. You have some of the most badass taste in music in all of Hawkins right now.” Eddie praised, and he’d wished he had complimented you sooner, because now that he saw you smile and giggle at his compliments he couldn’t get enough, “… and that’s a hell of a smile you’ve got there sweetheart. And a pretty laugh to match.”

“Quit it…” you giggled.

“Hell no, you can’t just tell me to quit it the second I give you a compliment. Gotta take the compliments where you get them.”

There was that smile, that goddamned cute giggle. The reaction he wanted. You covered up your mouth as you began to uncontrollably laugh, as if you’d taken a fat hit of reefer and had the permanent giggles. He loved people like you, who acted high and giggly without any external help. But he didn’t like how you were trying to hide those teeth from him. He wanted to see it. Wanted to see your smile and bask in the good feeling it gave him.

“Ah ah, none of that!” He scolded, holding up a finger, “You quit hiding that pretty face from me. What? You don’t want me to see it?”

“Nuh uh!” You giggled.

A devilish grin came over Eddie’s face.

“You gonna make me get forceful, sweetheart?”

“Noooooo…!” You whined, laughing harder as you shook your head quickly.

“Cut it out then. Put that damn hand down, lemme see that pretty face.”

Eddie began to wrestle your hand away from your face as you squealed in delight, shrinking in on yourself as he let out a mad giggle. He was enjoying this, enjoying the feeling of touching you and not having his face slapped or being punched in the stomach. You welcomed his touch, almost craved it, flying into a fit of hysterical laughter when he played dirty and grabbed your sides, tickling your soft plump abdomen so that you were forced to move your hands away from your face to shield your belly.

At the end of it, Eddie was breathless with laughter, holding your sides and swaying with you. Coming down from your fun, he saw your smile for the first time. No pearly whites. He could see the flaws and imperfect teeth as you smiled ear to ear.

Real recognizes real…

You are very much real. Very much so. You’re warm and soft and real underneath his fingertips.

“Princess,” he breaths.

You cock your head, swaying side to side and your grin never leaves your face.

“There we go.” He says softly, stroking your sides, “There’s that beautiful smile. See? Much better when you’re not hiding it behind your hands.”

Your eyes sparkled, starry eyes…

He’d only ever seen hungry eyes before. Only ever been desired like one desired a succulent steak or a rich slice of cake. Last year felt like he was giving up so many vital aspects of himself that he almost felt like an imposter when he kept trying to have a better year, a shot at a better life. Everyone had taken from him last year, gnawing at the bones of his corpse until there was nothing left.

Paige looked at me like she wanted to eat me…

But you…

You look at Eddie Munson as if you are awestruck by him, and as shocking as the feeling is, it makes him feel beautiful for a split second. He feels important. He feels valued, like he’s been the epitome of good alignment his whole life and the chaotic parts don’t matter. You look at him like you’re seeing a mythical hero. As if your village was burning to the ground all around you and he’d just come in the nick of time, clad in mithril armor, immune to the flames and devastation and ready to swoop you up to your feet.

But that defiance when you first faced him, the fire in you, it’s a strength, it’s a power he is drawn to. Realistically he knows if he were to swoop in it wouldn’t be to save you, it would be to help you pick up your own sword and fight alongside him.

He wanted that. He wanted someone to fight life’s battles alongside him.

He wanted that someone to be you.

[thats-our-cue-girls]

I don't know if anyone wants to see this, but I have Newsies fanfiction and nothing better to do.

Uksies Sprace

News of a Manhattan boy selling at Sheepshead had spread from girl to girl all across Brooklyn. When Spot Conlon herself heard about the it, she was not happy. She took off one morning, papers hauled over her shoulder and stormed over to the tracks, eyes narrowed the whole way. The minute she set foot into the crowd, the Manhattan kid wasn't hard to find. He was stood bold as brass from one of the higher seats, screaming the headline for the whole place to hear but keeping most of his attention on the racing. Spot walked a up to him, noting a few things that immediately stuck out to her. The boy had a red handkerchief folded neatly in his waistcoat pocket and was much cleaner than Spot had seen on any other newsies. His clothes were in good condition, with dark brown hair sticking out from underneath his fraying hat and he held a cigar between his teeth, blowing smoke rings every now and then. As Spot approached him, she pushed her shoulders back, scowling at him.

"So you're the Manhattan kid selling on Brooklyn turf?" She sneered.

"If you say so. Racetrack Higgins." He put down his papers, brushing his hands off before extending one out to her. "And you are?" 

"Spot Conlon." She raised an eyebrow but breifly shook his hand, before straightening up again.

"Oh, so you're the famous leader in Brooklyn?" He laughed and leaned back against the wall.

"What's so funny about that?" Spot sounded leathal, but Racetrack didn't seem to catch on.

"Well, with someone of your reputation, I wasn't expecting a girl. I mean, if I-" Before he could finish what was probably going to be another stupid comment, her fist collided into his jaw, rendering him dazed for a few seconds, wordlessly cupping his own face. "You can throw a punch, I'll give you that..." She grabbed the front of his shirt, meeting his eyes and giving him a threatening glare. 

"Now you'd better head back to Manhattan, Higgins, and best not let me catch you here again." She shoved him away, blowing a loose curl out of her face. Race held up his hands meekly in surrender, gathering up his papers and walking away from the track, sharpish.

"What a woman..." He muttered to himself, stunned, and still rubbing the spot she'd hit, most likely to have a bruise there by the afternoon.

Was he going to listen to Spot's warning? No, no of course he wasn't.

[hlfmoonshine]

YELLOW AS...

ash dayna | beth trent | daze higgins | lucien o'malley | pennyshore robertson | perry hart | sawyer linklater | seraphina poriosolo | willa hancock | yasha clement

"while yellow is often associated with joy, it is often metaphorically associated with negative meaning in different expressions, such as being linked to cowardice or fear." "the color has traditionally been a symbol of joyfulness, happiness, and energy and is associated with summer months. While on the other hand, it also symbolized caution and cowardice and irritates people in certain shades."

[littledots]

@gorgcous liked this post for a soft starter!

❝  well,  i do feel a lot better now that you’re here.  ❞ daze grinned, falling back against the couch, eyes trained on them. there was this sense of calm that always came with their presence. she wished he could bottle it so it never went away.

[honeykeats]

wheel of names starters: @aprilwritcs​ ft. daze higgins!

“i’m not afraid of the dark, are you?” she teased, reaching out to poke the others sides. daze wasn’t quite sure how they got into this situation, but there was something thrilling about being in the dark, especially when you weren’t alone. anything could brush past you or breeze past your ear. it was terrifying, and kind of sexy. everything that daze loved about halloween. 

[cevans-is-classic]

Away For The Holidays

Ted Lasso X Reader

Warnings: A minor sexual situation but no warnings really.

18+ only, please.

This is a day late and a dollar short, but, @wonderbreadbucky and I wish you happy holidays!!!

More may be found on My Masterlist

A Very C and E Holiday!!!!

When the holiday decorations appeared overnight, the team started chattering of secret Santa and wreath donning doors of the offices; that’s when Ted’s smile started slipping lower each day. He was still his usual self, albeit more open about his own thoughts and feelings.

Almost.

Higgins was inviting everyone for dinner, reminding the team that his home was open to them all. Beard was commenting about spending time with Jane, but he kept looking over at Higgins and Keeley and biting his lip and Ted — Ted was doing a magnificent impression of the Thinker.

You wheeled your chair towards him, knocking your knee against his, “Pound for a thought?”

A smile twitched beneath his facial hair, “You sound adorable when you try to be British.” You grinned at him, letting him lean in for a quick kiss.

When he’d settled back in his chair you motioned at him, “All seriousness, Hon, what’s wrong? By now you’d be putting up a mistletoe and trying to get Roy to kiss you.”

Ted dazed off with a dreamy look in his eyes, “Ah yes, a Kent Kiss.”

You shook your head, “Theo-”

His hand came up to trace your jaw line, one quick brush of his fingers and you fell quiet waiting with bated breath until he let his hand drop, “I’m alright, Sugar. At least for now.”

When you left the club, the image of Ted frowning, dejected, and pulled aside from the other weighed heavy on your mind. He was laughing and smiling when they started training up. You’d left with the thought in your mind that he would carry the world on his shoulder as long as no one knew.

It made your chest ache.

Ted was an amazing, painfully optimistic — to a degree that you wanted to shake him — but he was a beautiful soul who wanted nothing more than to cast light on those around him.

“Wow,” You mumble to your car keys, “I’ve got it bad for the man.”

The drive to your flat was short. You rarely stayed there anymore, and you did sometimes wonder why. You lived even closer to the club than Ted did. Of course, since you two began seeing each other, you realize there wasn’t a lot of space.

A single room loft, your kitchenette a measly thing, especially compared to the size of your living room. At least Ted had a couch big enough for Henry when he could visit. Yours was a small hand-me-down from your sister—

“Oh my God.” You stared at the couch. “Oh shit. Of course, duh!”

You stored your phone in your bag, its battery life hanging on the edge, but you started typing the message before you convinced yourself otherwise. It was short, open for suggestion and improvement, and most importantly, straight to the point.

Ted wouldn’t be too pleased with it being a surprise, but if this went well, he’ll get over it.

Ted moved behind you, his chest pressing into your back as he tugged you close. “Good morning.” He was warm behind you, arm over your waist, his nose buried in the back of your neck.

“Morning.” You hummed, snuggling into his hold. Ted continued kissing you, moving from your neck up to your jaw to nibble at your ear and trace his fingers over your hip.

You smile, “A delightful morning to you, Sir.”

He tugs your earlobe with his teeth, his hand sliding over your hip to tug at the ties of your shorts. “Going to let me brush my teeth first?”

Ted shakes his head against your neck, smiling when you groan out a laugh, “Okay,” You turn your head to look at him, aiming to kiss him, but the angle turns your body enough to brush his erection and heat spears through you, “You’re on.”

The way Ted groaned when you rolled him over, straddling him and shifting your hips over his cock was worth the bad taste in your mouth for the next two hours.

It also wore him out enough for the man himself to fall back asleep allowing you to sneak away, your keys and phone gripped in your hand.

The club was dark, the lights inside the display case the only thing guiding them through the hallway, Ted squeezed your hand, “Thank you, for whatever this shindig is-” There was a trail at the end of his sentence.

You looked sideways at him, “And?”

Ted sighed, “for not diving too deep into my lake of sadness, Sugar. I’ll be okay — just need some time.”

You squeeze his hand back, “I get it, Honey, you miss Henry and this is the first year you weren’t even able to call him.”

He lets out a breath, “Sometimes I forget how good you are at your job.”

You lift his hand to your lips, brushing the knuckles with a kiss, “I love you.”

The club was dark, the lights inside the display case the only thing guiding them through the hallway. Ted squeezed your hand. “Thank you for whatever this shindig is-” There was a trail at the end of his sentence.

You looked sideways at him, “And?”

Ted sighed, “for not diving too deep into my lake of sadness, Sugar. I’ll be okay — just need some time.”

You squeeze his hand back, “I get it, Honey, you miss Henry and this is the first year you weren’t even able to call him.”

He lets out a breath, “Sometimes I forget how good you are at your job.”

You lift his hand to your lips, brushing the knuckles with a kiss, “I love you.”

Ted lets go of your hand to pull you in for a hug, stopping short of the locker room door to press a kiss on your forehead, “I love you too. Now,” He waggled his eyebrows, “Let’s get this party started.”

You groan, stepping back to let Ted open the locker room door and -

“Dad!”

The man stops, his whole body freezing, hand still holding the door open even as Beard and Roy step back from Henry to let the young boy run for his father. You watch him look back at you, blink, then drop to his knees to catch his son in a hug, Henry’s face is buried into his dad’s neck, and from the way, Ted’s shoulders shake he was trying to hold back tears.

“Buddy,” You move around them, walking in to stand next to Beard and watch the two of them hug each other, “How did — you — where’s your Mama?” Henry steps back, keeping his hands on his Dad’s shoulders.

“She’s still at home. I’m your Christmas surprise!” Henry turns around to look back at you, Ted’s head shooting up, tears falling from his eyes as he smiles, tucking Henry back against his chest and holding him close.

“Sure are, Bud.” He closes his eyes, squeezing them and his son tight before looking back up at you.

“Did you do this?” He mouths.

You nod, “Surprise.” more tears fall.

When he turns his attention back to Henry is when you move towards the office with Roy and Beard, closing the door to give the Lasso’s some space.

Keeley’s legs are swinging from her perch on Beard’s desk, her arms opening to you for a hug. “Was he surprised?”

You nod, “Let’s give them some time, and then we can head to Higgins.” Everyone agrees, looking through the glass to see Father and Son sitting on the bench, Henry animatedly talking with his hands while Ted watched him, a smile soft on his lips and eyes bright with happiness.

This was supposed to be out yesterday, but work got in the way and when I got home I passed out SO enjoy!!!

[forasecondtherewedwon]

"Ted."

"Yes, Rebecca?" Ted replied, beaming at her.

She nods her head. "Look up."

He does and finds himself standing directly under the mistletoe. "Oh gosh, Rebecca. Please don't feel that you have to-"

"It's just a kiss." She said, and leans in.

And as their lips meet, Ted feels as if an electric current runs down his spine. It's brief, but knocks the wind out of Ted nonetheless. And when they part, just for a moment, he swears Rebecca looks as dazed as he feels.

She clears her throat and straightens her posture. "See, just a kiss."

Ted watches her walk away to mingle with Higgins and the team.

"Just a kiss..." Ted says, with a smile.

Oh? Working on a Christmas Ted/Rebecca fic, Anon?

[writinganothertime]

The Secret of Vanishing Newsboys

Chapter 4

warnings: don’t think there’s any

word count: 780

——————

Racer was not lost. (He definitely was). He knew where he was. (No he didn’t). Maybe he shouldn’t have left that late. He usually went straight there after selling. But this was different.

He knew he’d told Jojo that he didn’t want to go outside. And it was true, but more that he didn’t want to be actively looking for Albert because he was scared he’d find him. So he planned to go straight to Brooklyn and not stop anywhere else along the way. But now he found himself in an unfamiliar alley. And he was scared.

Racetrack Higgins didn’t get scared. He took everything in stride and thrived off of it. He could deal with anything.

But there were tears running down his cheeks. He wiped them away angrily with his fists. He shouldn’t cry. He knew better than this. And if he made it to his destination in Brooklyn, he definitely couldn’t show up all gross and snotty. So he pushed the feelings down and used the hem of his shirt to get rid of the rest of the tears. He stuck his cigar in his mouth to chew on it and pushed himself up.

Race walked back out to the road and headed straight (hehe no, gay) down the street. He figured he would find something that looked familiar eventually.

The reason he was so mixed up and overwhelmed was a bit complicated.

1) Albert was missing

2) He’d taken a wrong turn in Brooklyn, of course he was familiar with the area but he didn’t know it like the back of his hand, the way he did with Manhattan

3) He wasn’t used to walking in Brooklyn this late in the day

4) Race wasn’t used to feeling scared and overwhelmed this way

A cocktail of factors causing a simple walk to Brooklyn to be what seemed like an insurmountable feat at the moment.

He felt dazed which wasn’t good. If he passed out or something he might not wake up. So he forced himself to keep going. He was sure he’d recognize some place soon and if he didn’t, well, he’d make it to the docks eventually.

Time went by and area was covered. He’d finally recognized a street sign and the building behind it, and was now headed in the right direction for certain.

He reached the Brooklyn lodging house sooner than expected, he must not have been paying attention to exactly where he was.

He had lost all concept of time in his “travels” and it was completely dark outside. He had no idea if he’d made it there before curfew or not. Though it wouldn’t matter since he wasn’t particularly welcome there anyways. He climbed up the fire escape as quietly as he could until he got to the window he desired.

He knocked lightly on the window hoping he wasn’t waking anyone up.

The window opened and Race could see a confused Spot in the dull moonlight.

He slithered inside and sat down on the bed, suddenly exhausted.

“So what brings you here today?” Spot said lightheartedly. He went back to folding the extra shirt he had. Yup. That’s right. The King of Brooklyn folds his clothes. And he does so very carefully.

“Thought you could take my mind offa things.”

“Oh yeah? Y’know, there was some little birds here chirpin all kindsa things at my boys. What’s goin’ on ‘hattan?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“Doesn’t matta, I wanta hear it from you.”

Spot sat down and crossed his arms. Race could see the moonlight glinting off of the key around his neck.

“My best friend is missing. Albert, you know him, shock of red hair, hassles youse guys sometimes.”

“Yeah yeah I know him.”

“You seen him?”

“Nah kid, ‘m sorry, I ain’t seen nothing outta place ‘round here. Wish I could help though.”

“You and the rest of the kids’ll have a watch out for him?”

“You can count on it.”

Race sighed, half a breath of relief, half something else. “Thanks Spotty, youse really a sweetheart y’know that?”

“Aw stop raggin’,” Spot dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand but Race could see the small grin he was trying to conceal.

A soft smile bloomed on Race’s face before he flopped down to lie on Spot’s bed.

“So I take it you thinks yer stayin’ here tonight?”

“Like you’d let me go home at this hour.”

“Shove over I wanna sleep too.”

Race fake grumbled and shifted over to make room for Spot.

“Eh now that wasn’t so hard was it?” Spot teased.

Race gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before closing his eyes and shutting out the world.