#mutant school buds

[toodles-me-doodles]

X-Men Alternate Timeline: a summary

#xmen #mutant school buds #x men #incorrect xmen #X-men #xmen incorrect quotes #xmen textposts #x men textposts #peter maximoff #quicksilver #scott summers #cyclops #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #erik lehnsherr #magneto #charles xavier #professor x #cherik

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.

Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 5.6k

Chapter 6/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.

Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.

His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.

“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”

“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”

Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.

“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?

Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”

The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol. 

Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”

Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name. 

Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.

Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.

He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.

“Har, what’s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”

“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”

“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?” 

“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”

Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.” 

“Harris?”

The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.” 

He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.

“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”

Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.

One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly. 

“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.

So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?

You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”

You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…

“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!” 

“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”

Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.

“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”

You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. “I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?” 

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”

“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”

“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.

“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”

Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right. 

You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”

Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”

Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“S’okay.”

He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”

Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”

Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.

“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”

Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.

“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”

Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.

No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.

“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.

Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”

“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.”

Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—

“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”

“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath. 

Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”

“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”

The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down. 

So, he doesn’t. 

“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head. 

Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.  

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door. 

Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”

“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher. 

“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”

The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”

“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely. 

“Daddy?”

No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—

“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”

Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you. 

He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you’d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.

Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.

Fuck. 

“Daddy? Hello?”

At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”

“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity. 

“Yeah. Like a princess.”

Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st. 

On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween. 

But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today. 

You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm. 

Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”

“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”

“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container. 

Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules. 

“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.

“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago. 

“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”

You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?

“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation. 

You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”

“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”

You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing. 

This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply. 

His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone. 

“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words. 

Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”

Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?

The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.

“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.

The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.

The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.

“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.

“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.

Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”

You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy

Family size mistake=family size bag of candy

I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did. 

You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. 

-Eddie

P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.

“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.

You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.

“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.

“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.” 

It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.

You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”

Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”

Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”

That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.

Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.

--

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[corroded-hellfire]

Sight for Sore Eyes - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Summary: With both of Eddie's sons having respective issues at school, you feel more a part of the family than ever when all of the Munsons want you by their side.

Note: I thought this up in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep, now here we are. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of bullying, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, dad!eddie, older!eddie

Words: 5.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

It’s family movie night in the Munson house, but unlike most other quality times with you and the boys, Eddie can’t focus on the film that’s playing on the television. Ryan brought home yet another disappointing progress report. Not only is that unusual for his eldest son, but it’s also frustrating because when Ryan comes home to do his homework, he always understands it. Be it you or Eddie who goes over it with him once he’s finished, both of you can confirm that the kid knows his stuff. So why are his grades suffering?

At first, Eddie was concerned that Ryan was being bullied. He had brought up to you the idea of teaching Ryan how to fight, but you insisted it would be better to talk to Ryan’s teacher and see if she noticed anything. Mrs. Renner told Eddie that she had not seen anything out of the ordinary, but she would keep a special eye on Ryan. After two weeks of observing Ryan and other students throughout the day, she was able to report back to Eddie that everyone seems to like Ryan and he had no problems with anyone those entire two weeks. It was a relief, but Eddie was back to square one. 

Possibilities still running through his mind like crazy, Eddie absent-mindedly rubs his thumb across the small strip of your skin exposed as your t-shirt rides up. 

“My powers are beyond your mortal imagination. For instance, my eyes can see straight through your armor. Oooh! All right, that's it! Dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family! Make a note of this. Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow, dis…”

The small, red dragon's rant barely registers in Eddie’s mind as his eyes trail over to Ryan, sitting on the other side of you. His son’s face is all scrunched up as he looks towards the television, his small body even leaning as forward as he can in his seat. Eddie’s brows furrow as he watches Ryan for a few moments, and the boy’s facial muscles don’t move at all.

“Uh, bud? Ry? Can you see the TV okay?” Eddie asks. 

“It’s kinda blurry, isn’t it?” Ryan asks, scrunching his face up to squint even more. “Is it ‘cause it’s an old TV?”

You swivel your head towards your boyfriend and the two of you share a knowing look. Eddie’s shoulders sag with relief, a simple solution to an issue that’s nagged at him for weeks may be within reach. 

“It’s not blurry,” Luke blurts out from his place on the floor in front of the couch. His Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle coloring book is flipped open in front of him, half colored and half covered in butter stains from the six-year-old’s fingers that keep digging into the popcorn bowl. “TV’s fine,” Luke follows up, spewing a few kernels out of his full mouth. 

Movie pushed from your mind at this new revelation you may have stumbled upon, you turn yourself on the couch to face Ryan better. Eddie adjusts his arm that was around you to simply wrap his arm around your middle and lets his fingers glide softly over the cotton of your t-shirt. 

“Um, Ryan?” you ask, watching his adorable little face as it pinches up this way and that to watch the animated singing soldiers on the television. “Where do you sit in your class?”

Now Ryan’s face just scrunches up in confusion; to him, this question came out of nowhere. 

“By the bulletin board and the bathroom key hanging on the wall. Right behind Lorraine Poe,” he says.

“Oh, sweetie, no, I meant, like, towards the front, towards the back…” you trail off. 

“Kinda middle I guess,” Ryan answers with a shrug, turning back towards the movie. 

Eddie lets out a gentle sigh and you lean your body back against his. His large, warm hand rubs over your belly for a moment as he watches his son’s profile.

“Can you see the board okay?” Eddie asks. “At school?”

“Sometimes,” Ryan answers, the song in the movie pulling most of his focus. 

“Sometimes?” his dad questions.

“Yeah. Sometimes my teacher writes so small that I can’t always see what it says, though.”

You frown and tilt your head down onto Eddie’s shoulder.

“Have any of the other kids said anything about her writing being too small?” you ask. 

“No.”

“Ry?” Eddie clears his throat. “I think maybe we should take you to an eye doctor.”

This captures the eight-year-old’s attention back from the screen. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. It makes your heart ache at how small and vulnerable he looks like this, the fear of going to the doctor evident on his cherubic face. 

“Why?” he asks softly. 

“Well, it sounds like you’re having trouble seeing. The board at school is blurry, the television here is blurry,” Eddie points out. 

“I don’t want to go.” Ryan shakes his head.

“Why not, sweetie?” you ask as you reach forward to move some hair off of his forehead. 

Ryan’s fingers start to fidget where they’re pressed up against his jeans and he begins to gnaw on his lower lip—a few nervous habits he picked up from his father.

“What if there’s something wrong with my eyes?” he asks in a small voice. 

“Ryan, honey.” You lean forward out of Eddie’s grip so you can wrap your arms around the eldest Munson brother. “There is nothing wrong about needing some help to see. Plenty of people do.” You hold him against your chest and rub your hand up and down his arm soothingly.

“I don’t want glasses,” he mumbles. 

Being a kid is hard enough already. Add how soft spoken Ryan is and add new glasses on top of it, and you can understand where he’s coming from. Some jerky kids might say some mean things. But that’s not a reason he shouldn’t get his eyes checked out. 

“Hmm,” you muse. “You know, I can think of a very special little boy who wears glasses. He’s probably the coolest kid there is besides you and Luke.” 

“Who?” Ryan is clearly curious, but still hesitant about where you’re going with this. 

“You don’t know?” you ask him with a smile. “You only read about him every night before you go to bed.”

Ryan gasps in delight, sitting straight up in your arms. 

“Harry Potter!” The excitement on his face has your heart gushing from the inside out.

“The Boy Who Lived!” you cheer. “He’s a super powerful wizard and he needs glasses to see.” 

A shy but genuine smile starts to appear on Ryan’s face and Eddie subtly gives your waist a small squeeze of appreciation. 

“There’s also Superman,” Eddie adds. 

“Clark Kent wears the glasses,” Luke corrects his father, eyes never leaving the TV. You do your best to hold in a giggle; wherever Eddie’s geeky knowledge ends, Luke’s begins. 

“And Clark Kent is Superman,” Eddie says, picking up a piece of popcorn and tossing it at the back of Luke’s head. 

Ryan seems more at ease now, his body posture more relaxed and less rigid as he settles back into the couch cushions. You go to snuggle back into Eddie’s side when Ryan looks up at you with those big brown eyes that are identical to his father’s and slips his small hand into yours. 

“Will you go with me?” he asks, voice soft.

You could almost cry at the question. He wants you to go with him. The love and trust he has in you in this moment of fear and uncertainty means the world to you. Eddie doesn’t miss the emotion on your face at the comfort you bring to his son. He knows he’s so lucky to have you, the woman of his dreams, but the fact that you and the kids wholeheartedly love each other as well? It’s enough to make Eddie tear up any time he thinks about it for too long.

Before you give Ryan an answer, you look at Eddie, wanting to make sure that this is okay with him and that you’re not overstepping. Eddie gives you a nod, his eyes shining with pure adoration.

“Of course I will, Ry.” You press a kiss to the top of his head, and he then lays it down on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he answers, just loud enough for you to hear.

There’s no reason he has to thank you. This moment, this trust and love he’s giving to you as a parental-type role means the world to you. You’re clearly not the babysitter anymore—you’re their dad’s girlfriend, but a new relationship is blossoming between you and the boys as well. The strong ties that always bonded you and the kids are being bronzed, never to fray or be broken. This is starting to feel in the neighborhood of motherly and it feels more amazing than you could have imagined. 

Ryan keeps his hand in yours the entire time you sit in the waiting room of the tiny optometrist’s office. The fact that you’re his comfort in this situation has you practically beaming enough to be one of the models on the posters that surround you of people who are overly excited to have a new pair of glasses. Ryan has always loved and felt safe with you, but this is different, and you both know it—even if neither of you know how to put it into words. 

“Ryan Munson?”

His small hand is surprisingly strong as he grips yours like a lifeline at the sound of his name. Before you stand up, you lean in to whisper in his ear.

“I’m going to be right next to you the whole time. I promise.”

The words have Ryan loosening his vice grip just enough that you’re able to feel your fingers again. The two of you are led into a small office that has model after model of the human eye and a large chair directly in the middle of the room.

“You must be Ryan,” the doctor says as he steps into the office and shuts the door behind him. He’s an attractive man with a kind smile, right around Eddie’s age. “I’m Dr. Barnes. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Ryan gives him a nervous smile as he climbs into the large chair. “Nice to meet you too.”

You take a seat in a yellow hard plastic chair near the door and the doctor turns around to introduce himself to you as well. After he shakes your hand, his attention goes back to his patient.

“Tell me a little bit about what’s been going on with your eyes, Ryan,” Dr. Barnes says as he sits down on a rolling stool. 

The boy shifts in the large chair, the nervousness still very prevalent. “Um, well I-I haven’t been able to see the board very good at school. A-And at home the TV is all blurry.”

“Well, we definitely have to fix that!” Dr. Barnes says with a sympathetic sigh. “Gotta be able to do your work at school and then come home and watch cartoons. It’s a good thing your mom brought you in.”

You freeze, half a sputter coming from out of your mouth because you don’t know what to say. It’s a logical assumption on the doctor’s part, but if you let it slip by without correcting him will Ryan think that’s weird? If you correct the doctor will Ryan take that as meaning you don’t want to be called his mother? Or would Ryan feel like you’ve crossed a boundary if you just go on letting Dr. Barnes think that you’re his mom?

“She’s the best,” Ryan says, saving you from speaking at all. The anxiety immediately leaves your body at his words. The way Ryan smiles at you from his chair while the doctor sets things up has your heart soaring. His look practically says, yeah, I said you’re my mom because that’s what I want.

Somehow you manage to keep it together without crying—you’ll do that in front of Eddie later. Dr. Barnes turns out the main lights and puts a focused light on an eye chart just above your head. You watch as he tests Ryan’s vision by looking at different charts and signs full of numbers and letters of all sizes before he lowers the phoropter in front of the eight-year-old’s face. Ryan almost goes cross eyed trying to look at the machine as it gets closer to him, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, I’m gonna show you two different lenses and you tell me which one is clearer while looking at that chart. Sound good?” Dr. Barnes asks.

“Uh huh,” Ryan says as tries to find the right angle to look into the machine. His voice is much steadier now. 

“One or two?”

“Uh…one.”

Multiple strengths are tried out and it seems like Dr. Barnes asks Ryan to pick between “one and two” about a million times. Even you’re getting fidgety in your seat by the end of it, so you can only imagine how antsy Ryan is. 

It was pretty evident to you that Ryan would end up needing glasses, but the little boy looks less than thrilled when the two of you head back out into the main area so you can find some frames.

After spotting a few pairs that he likes, Ryan starts to find it fun, seeing which ones look better on him and which ones make him look silly. In the end, he settles on two different sets of frames—which Eddie already said he’s cool with because he’d bet good money that one pair would either get lost or broken before the year is out. 

As you’re paying, Dr. Barnes makes sure the copy of Ryan’s prescription is all filled out before he hands it to you. The paperwork comes with a smoldering smile from the optometrist, and as flattering as it may be, it still makes you feel a tad awkward.

“I suppose I’ll see you back here in a few weeks, huh?” Dr. Barnes asks, directing the question at you instead of Ryan.

“Oh,” you say, caught off guard by the flirting. You look down and shake your head, but you see your ringless hand and understand why the man probably thinks you’re a single mom. “His dad,” you start, wrapping your arm around Ryan’s shoulders, “he, um, my boyfriend will probably be the one coming here to pick up the glasses with Ryan.”

“Ah,” Dr. Barnes says with a nod. “I guess I’ll see you soon then, Ryan.”

You look down to see Ryan squeezing his lips together, trying not to laugh as he nods his affirmation. He clearly understands what just happened and his expression makes it difficult for you to keep your laughter held in as well. 

The glasses will be ready in about two weeks and the little Munson doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that he has to wear them anymore. 

After the eye doctor, you take Ryan out for lunch at Schoop's Hamburgers, just the two of you. Both of you order milkshakes and you hold a finger up to your cold lips.

“Don’t tell Luke or your dad, they’ll be so jealous!”

Ryan just giggles and takes another sip of his strawberry shake while trailing an “X” over his heart with his right index finger. 

“Daddy’s taking me to pick the glasses up?” Ryan asks as you’re throwing away your garbage.

“Maybe,” you admit with a shrug. “Depends on our schedules that week. But I have a feeling your dad will want to be the one to take you.”

“Because the doctor wanted to kiiiiiiss you?” Ryan asks in a mischievous little voice that you’d expect from Luke more than him.

“Yes,” you acquiesce with a chuckle. “But I’m sure he’s just as excited to see what your new glasses look like.” But it’ll definitely be mostly about Doctor McFlirty, you think.  

When you get home, Eddie’s at the kitchen table, looking over some bills. As soon as you and Ryan walk through the door, Eddie pushes it to the side and stands up.

“Hey, how’d the appointment go?” Eddie looks back and forth from you to Ryan, not sure which one of you will speak first. 

“He did great,” you tell Eddie, throwing a wink Ryan’s way.

“I picked out some glasses and they’ll be ready in two weeks!” he proudly tells his dad. Then his eyes light up and he lets out a small giggle. “And the doctor wanted to steal your girlfriend, Daddy.”

“What?” Eddie’s immediately defensive and looks towards you, eyebrows raised.

You can’t help but giggle right alongside Ryan at Eddie’s expression. “He tried flirting with me, but I told him I was with you.”

“He was bummed,” Ryan adds.

“I’m taking you to pick those glasses up,” Eddie tells his son, jabbing his thumb into his t-shirt clad chest. 

“You were right!” Ryan says with a laugh, looking over at you. 

“Do I know your Dad or what?” you ask as the two of you high five one another. 

A couple of weeks later, the glasses are finally in. Eddie takes Ryan by the office after he gets off work to go pick them up. 

The smell of roasting garlic fills the air as you make dinner and Luke is watching television when they get home. Ryan bounces in, excited about his new glasses. There’s a proud gleam in his eye as he stands in the middle of the entryway, taking in the view of the apartment clearly for the first time in a while.

“Let me see, let me see!” you say as you step out of the kitchen. “Aw, Ry! They look even better than the display ones you tried on at the store!”

The rectangular black frames complement his dark eyes and honey brown hair. You’re overcome with how handsome of a young man your little Ryan is turning into. 

Luke kneels on the couch cushion and turns around to see his brother. 

“Lemme see.”

Ryan does a one-eighty to show his little brother. All Luke does is give him a thumbs up before he goes back to watching The Fairly Odd Parents.

“It feels kind of funny,” Ryan tells you, rubbing his left eye beneath the glasses. You can already see fingerprint smudges on the lenses and you’re grateful you remembered to buy lens cleaning cloths the last time you went grocery shopping. “What does? What feels funny?” you ask.

“Seeing things that are far away!” he says, both excitement and a slight bit of irritation in his usually calm tone. “Almost makes me a little dizzy.”

“Doctor said that’s normal,” Eddie says, resting his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Your eyes will get used to them real quick, then it won’t feel that way.” He raises an eyebrow and looks at you. “And this doctor also seemed a bit nervous around me.” 

You giggle and bound over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “He’s threatened by what a wonderful, sexy man you are.”

“Gross,” Luke mumbles from the couch.

Soda almost sprays out of your nose at Eddie’s story about a difficult customer who came into work this morning, when one of his co-workers pops his head into the breakroom.

“Hey, Eddie,” he says, rubbing a hand over his bald head, leaving small streaks of grime behind. “There’s a phone call for you.”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie says. He crumples up the tin foil you brought his sandwich in and tosses it in the large trashcan behind him. Not in a particular hurry, Eddie stands up and stretches his arms over his head. He smirks and presses a quick kiss to your lips when he sees you checking him out. Your gaze continues to look him up and down as he takes the few steps over to the phone on the wall. 

“Hello?” Eddie asks.

The chicken sandwich lying on the table in front of you looked good when you first arrived to have lunch with your boyfriend, but now that you’re full it looks as if it’s taunting you. Crinkling fills the room as you pack it back up in its foil. Just as you’re lifting your can of diet Dr. Pepper to your lips, Eddie’s face clouds with worry and he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll be right there,” he says into the phone. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, slipping your leftovers into your large black purse. As Eddie hangs the phone back up, you walk over to stand at his side, careful of getting your clothes dirtied by his coveralls.

Instead of answering you, Eddie lets out another sigh and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Gimme a second, baby.”

You watch, confused, as Eddie steps across the hall into his boss’s office. There seems to be a short, quick conversation before your boyfriend comes back out and slips his hand into yours.

“It was the school,” Eddie tells you as he leads you towards the exit and out into the parking lot.

“Are the boys okay?” you ask, feeling your heart rate pick up as you walk briskly towards his truck. 

“Luke’s in the principal’s office,” Eddie tells you with an agitated huff. “He got into a fight.”

“He what?” Your eyes almost pop out of your head. “Is he okay?”

“Just a little banged up, according to the principal,” Eddie says as he opens the passenger side door for you. 

“Poor baby.”

Long strides lead Eddie around his truck, and he situates himself in the driver’s seat. He gives a humorless chuckle as he starts the engine.

“Wayne wasn’t fucking kidding when he said Luke is a little version of me.”

“First of all, we all say that,” you tell him. “Second of all, you fought at school?”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says with a soft laugh as he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “Remind me to tell you some stories when we get home.”

When you get to the school, you and Eddie practically jump out of the truck and head towards the building. Once you’re both inside, you feel rough calloused fingers tangle with your own. His eyes are straight ahead but you can tell Eddie’s nerves are on edge as he gives your hand a soft squeeze.

Luke is sitting on the bench outside of the principal’s office, his legs dangling over the edge, swinging back and forth. He’s watching his black and white sneakers disappear beneath the wooden seat before reappearing again, taking no notice of you coming down the hall. Only his profile is visible from the angle you’re approaching from. 

“Luke,” Eddie says as the two of you walk up to him.

The young boy jumps off the bench and turns to face the two of you. You’re startled to see his eye already bruised and purpling, along with a small cut on his bottom lip. There’s the instinct to pull him into your arms and take care of him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. But Luke’s grinning up at the pair of you; a stark contrast to the evidence of the brawl on his face.

“Oh, hi! They told me they called Daddy, but I didn’t know both of you were coming!” The excitement on his face to see both of you is adorable yet seems out of place since he must know he’s going to get in trouble. 

“Luke, what happened?” Eddie asks at the same time that you ask, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine,” Luke answers your question with a shrug. “My hand hurts more than anything.” The boy cradles his right hand against his chest and it’s the first time you see his scraped and bruised knuckles.

“What happened?” Eddie asks again, this time with less patience. 

Luke’s eyebrows furrow, a little “v” creasing his forehead. The pride from the fight vanishes from his eyes as he recalls the situation. 

“Stupid Trevor Brown opened his big fat mouth on the playground!” Luke says sternly, even louder than he usually is. “He said to Brandon Simpson that Ryan’s glasses made him look like a loser.”

“So you hit him?” Eddie asks.

“No, I told him he better shut his damn—uh, dang mouth. Trevor just laughed and said Ryan was a nerd! Then I hit him.”

Eddie sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes closed. Secretly, he’s proud of his son for sticking up for his brother, but he has to compose himself so he can tell Luke he shouldn’t have done that. The paradox of being a parent.

“Luke, you should have told a teacher instead,” Eddie tells him. “Hitting someone is not the way to shut them up.”

“Well, punching him in the mouth did the trick,” Luke points out. 

You try not to laugh, covering it up with a cough. Eddie’s better at keeping himself composed but you know he would be grinning if he could.

A door squeaks open and the principal steps out of his office with another young boy, a huge bruise blooming on his jaw and dried blood caked under his nose. Luke definitely came out the winner of the fight. 

“You sit here and wait for your mom now, Trevor,” Principal Andrews says, gesturing to the bench Luke was just sitting on. “Ah, Mr. Munson. Thank you for coming.”

“And this is his girlfriend!” Luke announces proudly, coming to stand in front of you. The small boy is wiggling his way out of any trouble with you by seeming so thrilled to have you there and showing you off proudly.

Eddie nods his head at the principal, ignoring Luke, and shakes the man’s hand. You gently pat Luke’s curls, hoping he takes the hint to shut up.

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” Eddie says, and you silently wonder how many times Wayne had to say that to Eddie’s principal growing up. “This one is in for it, I’ll tell you that.” Eddie nods his head towards Luke. “Can someone just let Ryan know Luke won’t be on the bus coming home?”

“Of course,” Principal Andrews says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke. We’ll be better behaved then, won't we?”

Luke turns to head down the hall without answering, but Eddie grabs the back of his t-shirt and pulls him back. He puts his hands on Luke’s shoulders and spins him around until he’s facing the principal again.

“Luke,” Eddie warns him.

“Yes, Principal Andrews,” Luke says in a monotone, eyes on the shiny white linoleum tile below his sneakers. Deciding he’s done with talking, he slips his smaller hand into yours, deciding he’d rather hold your hand than his father’s right now.

“Thanks again, Principal Andrews,” Eddie says before the three of you walk down the hallway towards the exit.

It’s utterly silent until you get into Eddie’s truck. You’re not sure what to say, because this is between father and son. Eventually, you decide you’ll just be a referee if it comes to that. 

Eddie silently pulls the truck out of the parking lot and starts to head home.

“Luke,” Eddie finally says after seven minutes of terse silence. It feels like he’s said his son’s name about a hundred times already today. “I don’t like that you hit someone. But I am proud of you for sticking up for your brother.”

In the rearview mirror, Eddie can see how Luke grins at that, which makes Eddie smile in turn. 

“I wasn’t gonna let those buttheads talk that way about my brother,” Luke says. “I know I’m not s’posed to hit—I do. But if someone says something about a person I love, I just get so mad, and it comes out all violent.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, loud enough for only you to hear. “He is my mini-me.”

When you get home, you take Luke into the bathroom so you can clean up and bandage his wounds. His knuckles are still sore and stinging when you finish, so he sits on the couch with a bag of frozen corn on them. Eddie plops down next to him as you lean against the wall between the bathroom and living room, wiping off some antibacterial ointment that you accidentally got on your own hands.

“You know I have to punish you, right?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows as he looks down at his youngest son. 

“I know,” Luke says with a sigh. 

“I want you to go in your room until dinner time. Try and work on your homework if your hand starts to feel any better. And no dessert after dinner tonight.”

“And then?” Luke asks, looking up at his dad nervously, afraid of how long he’s going to be grounded.

“And then tomorrow you wake up, get ready for school, and keep being a wonderful brother.”

It takes a minute, but a smile slowly spreads to Luke’s face as he realizes there’s no punishment besides the minor consequences he’ll have to endure tonight.

“Now, go on. Get to your room,” Eddie says.

Luke gets up and heads towards the hallway before stopping and turning back to face his father.

“Don’t tell Ryan what happened, okay?” Luke says, wincing at the chill from the vegetable bag against his scrapes. “I don’t want him to know that someone said mean things about him.”

“I won’t tell him,” Eddie assures his son. Luke turns back towards the hallway, but Eddie calls him and he faces his dad again. “You’re a really good brother. Ryan is very lucky to have you, and I know he’d have your back too. I’m very lucky.”

“Aww, Dad,” Luke says, wrinkling up his nose. “So mushy. But… I know I’m lucky too. Always felt that having you and Ryan. Never with Mom though. But now I got someone pretty cool who loves me like I’m her kid and that’s even better.”

Luke continues down to his room and Eddie is filled with the overwhelming feeling of love. Love from the kind words from Luke—which are rare within themselves–the love that his two sons have for one another and that special bond, and love at the fact that Luke recognizes that you love him and Ryan as if they’re your own children. You practically see them that way anyway. 

You walk in from where you’re holding up the wall, emotional yourself over Luke’s words, and take a seat next to your boyfriend on the couch.

“How ya feeling?” you ask, bringing your hand up to play with one of Eddie’s stray curls.

“I’m so fucking proud of my son,” Eddie admits with a hushed laugh. “I know I had to tell him the whole ‘violence isn’t the answer’ spiel, but I would’ve done the exact same thing that he did. When I was a kid or even now.” 

“He’s such a good brother,” you say, an adoring grin on your face as well. 

Eddie wraps his arm around you, and you snuggle into his side.

“So, I believe you had some stories to tell me?” You tilt your head up to smirk at your boyfriend. 

Eddie chuckles and gives a shake of his head. “Oh, you better buckle up, princess. I’ve got some wild tales.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #AYW #AYWS

[nervouswreck202-blog]

Here's my poster of my official version of my version for my DisneyElseWorld's Pixar's...

INSIDE OUT 2!

I saw the new Inside Out 2 trailer, and they made Anxiety, Ennui, Embarrassment, and Envy bad by betraying the old emotions. Lots of crazy stuff is about to happen! We don't know what's going on, lots of details are there too. But what would the ElseWorld version be like?

SO!

For my idea. I have 6 new emotions, the OC emotions like, Courage, Surprise, Pride, Trust, Shame, and Frustration.

MAIN VILLAIN

I am using on of my oc's Ego de Spite, to be the main villain of the au second movie.

OTHER CHARACTERS

Characters like Zee, the assistant of Ego, she runs the business with him but she tries to avoid him to help others. Bud, Courage's blood cell buddy, he doesn't speak but he's sweet, nervous, cute and got some attitude. And Brain, the big boss of Riley's mind, and the emotions need his help to stop Ego. And Mother Esteem, sweet old mind lady but very big (Disclaimer: Not in the poster).

Returning Cast like...

Amy Poehler as Joy, Bill Hader as Fear (YES! I'm bringing Bill Hader back! He's so much funnier then I expected), Lewis Black as Anger, Phyllis Smith as Sadness, Kensington Tallman as Riley, Diane Lane as Mrs. Andersen, and Kyle MacLachlan as Mr. Andersen.

Recast Alert!

I actually like Liza Lapira playing Disgust. After what Mindy Kaling did in Velma, it wasn't enough for me. Because the show and her are piles of shit to me.

With All-Star Cast like...

Chris Pratt (The LEGO Movie 2) as the new outside leader emotion Courage, Sam Richardson (Hocus Pocus 2) as Surprise, Kate McKinnon (Ferdinand & Saturday Night Live) as Frustration,

Andrew Rannells (Trolls Band Together) as Trust, Randall Park (Ant-Man And The Wasp) as Pride, Jim Cummings (Winnie the Pooh) as Shame, Nicholas Hoult (the X-Men films & Underdogs) as the villainous and hilarious, Ego de Spite,

Aubrey Plaza (Monsters At Work) as Ego's sarcastic female assistant, Zee, Michael Cera (Barbie & Superbad) as Ego's nerd assistant, Yes Man, Peter Sohn (Ratatouille & Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse) as The emotions new blood cell buddy, Bud, Wanda Sykes (the Ice Age films) as Mother Esteem,

with David Wain (The Bob's Burgers Movie) as Chairman the Mind Councilman, Yvette Nicole Brown (Drake & Josh) as Riley's middle school P.E. coach, Ms. Roberts, Brady Noon (TMNT: Mutant Mayhem) as Jordan, Jack Bright (The Good Dinosaur) as Riley's bully, Francis, & Alfred Molina (Monsters University, Gravity Falls & the Spider-Man films) as the smart, wise cracking, and big-headed mind boss himself, Brain.

CREW

Written & Directed by Josh Cooley

Co-Directed by Bob Peterson and Angus MacLane

Produced by Mark Neilsen, p.g.a.

Executive Produced by Pete Docter, Dan Scanlon, and Jonas Rivera

Story by Josh Cooley and Pete Docter

Edited by Kevin Nolting

Cinematography by Patrick Lin and Kim White

Production Designer Craig Foster

Story Supervisor Peter Sohn

Visual Effects Supervisor Bob Pauley

Supervising Animators Jerome Ranft and Doug Sweetland

Music by Michael Giacchino

Score Cordinator Andrea Datzman

Casting by Kevin Reher & Natalie Lyon

#inside out fandom #inside out fear #inside out disgust #inside out anger #inside out #disear #inside out joy #inside out sadness #inside out courage #inside out ego de spite

[teenverseofmarveltvshows]

Spidey's relationships with X-Men's main team

If you read my post about Peter's life chronology, you know I wrote about that one time when he team-ups with X-Men and stuff, so anyway, here'll be the main team of X-Men

Scott Summers/Cyclops

Peter meets Scott with Kurt when he just arrived to Bayville High to find those mutants. Here he is, in this Highschool, pretending to be one of the students, hoping it's not illegal and won't cause him any problems. Thanks to his Spidey sense, because whenever Peter approched Scott or any other mutant it was warning him about something and soon he realizes that it was warning him anout the fact that they're mutants! (Spidey sense can do that in my au, yeh. Why? Yes.)

When the school day almost ended, Peter finally gets the courage to talk to Scott, so he approaches Scott and due to his lack of social skills, first thing he does is asks Scott if he's a mutant.cScott freaks out at first, but after little logical thinking he just admits it. Peter is shocked! Someone who's like him! With powers! Wow! (We're not mention his S.H.I.E.L.D. team cuz they're kinda meanies)

Without doubt Peter reveals his secret identity. At first Scott is skeptical, but after seeing him crawl on the walls, he realizes there's no joke. After that, awkward talk happens, Scott is curious why'd a Spider-Man, superhero from New Youk, forget at Bayville? And when he hears that Peter's here to find out about mutants, Scott quickly explained how yhings work here and who's good and who's not.

Such sudden turn from awkward conversation warms the both up to each other, making them quickly to become friends. Then Scott unquestiongly brings Pete to X-Mansion to introduce him to everyone and vice versa. Now they best buds forever!

Jean Grey

Although Jean does notice Peter as soon as he enters Bayville High, she decides not to rush things and introduces herself only when Scott bring him in X-Mansion. There she reads his mind, just for a bit, but enough to understand that there's topics he'd not like to talk about. Jean decides to warn everyone else about that, since she didn't want to make Peter feel uncomfortable.

After doing so, she's not participating in conversations with him. It's not like she doesn't want, it's just everyone else are much more eager to talk to New York's Superhero, so she waits untill the evening when everyone gets tired from talking so much. She finally gets her chance to talk to Spidey, and even though he's a bit tires of being so social, they have a nice small talk.

Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler

When Scott brought Spider-Man in their Mansion, Kurt and Kitty were the first who could introduce themselves to Spidey. The blue elf was really excited to get to know this cool guy from New York(Peter is kinda popular with his heroy thing yk). He was hoping that Spidey is someone who's also a mutant, and a freaky one! But then he sees how Pete looks and he's like: "........Oh....So that's how you look....Well....No wonder people can't figure out Spider-Man's real identity, you look so normal, can't even be suspected to be Spider-Man!"

He's kinda dissapointed that Spider-Man isn't exactly a Man Spider with Spider's head and fur or Humanoid Spider with just four limbs, but hey, Peter's still a cool dude! That's all what matters.

Kurt was really surprised by every information Peter's was revealing to him. After every thing Pete would say about himself, Kurt would ask many various qusetions, to the point it sounded slightly ridiculous. "Well, yes, I've got no problems with my grades, they're straight As" "Woaaaaaahhhh...Does it mean Spider are extremely intelligent in science, but can't show it since they, well, spiders, but since you were bit by that Spider you got it's intelligence?" "Um, no, I don't think so" "oh....well....Do you eat only spider's food now or human food is still good for you?" ". . ."

Kitty Pryde

Like I wrote, Kitty and Kurt are first to introduce themselves to Peter. Kitty heard a lot about Spider-Man so she quickly asks few 'important' questions she has, like, "How it's like in New York?", "There's a lot of criminals?", "Is Sinister Six/Seven are scary?", "How it's like to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?" and etc.

Peter isn't her type of guy to talk to, they don't really have any similar interesr, so THANK GOD they have powers and her power to go through anything amazes him so much, he wishes he could do that. (It's not the most pleasant feeling to fly right into some wall while swinging somewhere, so Kitty's power could really be useful to Pete)

And since Kitty don't have much qestions to ask, Peter asks her questions about her power. She shortly explained how it works, and that pretty much explained everything what needed to be explained for Pete, so now he can move on and talk to other mutants.

Anna Marie/Rogue

She's not much of a talker and when she see new guy in Mansion, she kinda gets suspicious. Not exactly trying to be friendly, she says that she's busy in her Southern Accent to Scott that tried to introduce her to Peter. Inside his own head he imagine her encounter with Shocker. That would be funny, at least he thought so.

And since Rogue is being suspicious of Peter, even a little bit, she pays a close attention to him all the time he's in Mansion. Closer to evening Rogue stops being suspicious of Pete since he's such awkward guy that it makes her feel awkward just watching him encountering with others.

At the end of the day she tries to make a conversation with him, but Pete didn't feel like talking, so they just say few things to each other. This small talk was enough for them to forget about the awkwardness they noth felt, making them somewhat friends.

Evan Daniels

This dude isn't exactly the most curious here. He's not not interested, he's just a chill dude, so he just offers Pete couple of snacks and shows cool tricks with his skateboard and damn, that was enough for him to become friends with Peter. Evan and his undeniable skill to become friends with people needs to be studied.

They even exchange numbers at the end of the day, since, why not? You're cool, I'm cool, let's be cool together and do tricks. (Peter just wants to be as cool as Evan and learn not only how to do tricks on skateboard, but also how to be more like Evan, more social). For whole evening they'd pass each other, do a highfive and then meet each other again in few minutes, to just pass each other again and do highfive again. It's fun!

That's it for now. I've never wrote anything like that before(+Eng isn't my first language) so I hope you enjoyed it!

#x-men evolution #xmen #xmen evo #AU #scott summers #cyclops #jean grey #nightcrawler #kurt wagner #kitty pryde #shadowcat #anna marie #rogue #evan daniels #spyke #peter parker #spiderman

[3mutantsinatrenchcoat]

An earthquake rumbles part 5

Previously

Dude, we are already on part five??? Das crazy-

Uhh cw? Probably for swearing, panic, mentions of children being sick and very bad parenting but he's doing his best

The man huffs as he pushes away rubble from the stairwell, finally reaching the streets from the subway. "Okay bud..stay with me" he looks back at the turtle child, whose overheated body let's out weakened huffs, the breaths visible in the colder air.

"I know..I know.." he sighs and starts walking "wer gonna find a pharmacy..we have ta find somethin.." he looks around as he grips the metal pipe tighter. He runs down the street, reaching his free hand behind himself to make sure the little turtle was stable. "Hang in there.."

He looks around for any flashes of purple or any people. He didn't want to have to deal with either. Now he would have said a few days ago he wouldn't have minded seeing other humans so long as they kept their distance but hell, he had a turtle child. And one thing he knew from growing up in the south is that different is deadly.

Like one of them bright colored bugs that you learn about in school, if you stand out you are a target. And boy he did feel like he stood out. Not only that other people seem to be selfish, he regrets how he almost was selfish when he met the turtle child.

He wished he was kind enough to have picked him up as soon as he saw him, but he walked away. He doesn't know why he went back but he did. And he doesn't regret it.

He slows to a walk up the the pharmacy doors, one of the glass doors shattered and littering inches of glass on the floor. He gently pushes on the door but all it caused was more pieces of glass to fall. "Sound risk..okay, okay another survival rule kid, no sound." He turns and walks around the building finding a busted window. ".. alright alright, we are getting some where." He uses his gloves to wipe off any excess chunks of glass before taking off his bag, careful to make sure the kid didn't fall.

"we should really get you some clothes buddy, new ones." He tosses the bag into the window and holds the child to his chest as he climbs in. He stumbles slightly before he gets his second leg in and stands up, looking around. "Good..it's...it's slightly ransacked but we might have some supplies." He grabs his bag by the strap and starts walking around, finding the kid section. He sets the young turtle down and looks over the section. It was ransacked. "No...no..no no.." he starts pulling at the empty shelves.

He pulls tin shelves and throws them to the ground. "No! No! No! SHIT!" he hits the shelves making a loud clang, the young turtle starts crying.

"I know! I know! It's scary! You're sick what do you want me to do!" He turns to look at the kid. "I didn't ask to take you in but I did! And now you are gonna die!" He drags his hands across his face and kicks one of the discarded shelves across the floor. "FUCK!"

He walks away from the crying child, leaning his head against a shelf. "...fuck..."

"well, that's not the Lars I knew" the female voice rang out softly.

The man, Lars looks at the woman, her long pretty blonde hair and her favorite sunflower printed dress on. "You aren't real..."

"I'm as real as you allow me to be Lars." She leans on the shelf beside him, her pretty blue eyes looking at him with sorrow. "I know it's difficult-"

"I miss you, my mayflower" he reaches out to touch the blonde curls that his fingers couldn't wrap around. "...I miss you.."

The woman reaches her hand out and cups his cheek, he swears he could still feel the warm of her palm. "Calm yourself, you are stressed. Keep your head on"

"I was never the one good with kids, it was always you, May.." he closes his eyes.

She smiles and pulls her hand away. "What is the issue? You know what to do, remember your nephew and the boating incident?"

He slowly stands up straight, looking at her. "He had an infection and a virus was running around so the pharmacy was out of kids medicine.."

"mhm. And what did you do then?" She smiles, watching as his eyes go wide.

He runs a few aisles over, looking up and down before grabbing a few boxes. "What if he takes to much?"

"if it feels like too much it's too little, he's a mutant" she speaks from behind him.

"right the incidents on the news-"

"mhm, right before you went up there" she smiles. "And-"

The man throws the boxes. "And liquid is better for exhaustion than the solids" he starts grabbing the other boxes.

He remembers how he felt driving his truck, speeding at 90 down the road, nearly crashing into the pharmacy as his brother stayed home with his nephew, all the hospitals filled with sick and no space for the teen. He remembers how the door clattered in protest when he swung it open and started grabbing off the shelf without a care to the world, he knew what was needed and 5 minutes later he was speeding out the parking lot, breaking probably several traffic violations.

That was years ago, and this situation was different. Here he was, grabbing medicine, no car, no wife, no family. Just him a mutant, infection all the same.

He hurries over to the turtle mutant, realizing he had left him crying. He sighs and slowly sat down beside him. "I'm sorry bud..I'm..." he sighs and starts unboxing one of the medicines. "This is so gonna suck but" he looks at the bottle and then at the measurement cap. "....fuck it we don't need this" he tosses it aside and pulls off the plastic, uncapping the bottle.

"alright survival tip again bud, drink this like you are drinking vodka. It's going to suck but it will make you feel better" he hesitates before mumbling to himself. "What kind of parenting advice is that-"

He scoops up the kid by the back of the head and makes him sit up slightly before putting the bottle to his mouth. "Okay we are going to guess and pray bud, guess and pray."

He pours, counting 5 seconds in his head. It was immediate how the mutant started squirming at the bittery cherry flavored syrup. "I know, I know it sucks, it's okay..it's okay.."

He pulls the bottle away. "Don't spit it out swallow it-" he quickly grabs the kid's chin, holding his face up slightly. "Don't spit..." the kid looks up at him, teary eyed and using what little energy he saved up from sleeping like he did to squirm.

He watches as the turtle scrunches up his face and swallows. "Thank you, see it wasn't that bad"

He looks around before scooping up the kid. "Let's find you some Gaterade. It tastes like shit but it works" he was never a big Gaterade fan. He preferred root beer but he doubts there would be any in this place. He makes a mental note to find a gas station eventually.

He walks around, holding the child to himself as he looks for the fridges, finding one up against the wall he swings it open. "Mmm..here" he pulls out a bottle of blue Gaterade. "It's sort of the best flavor in my opinion, don't ask me why"

He sits down against the wall beside it and shifts so the kid could sit, using his arm to rest his head slightly. "That feel better?"

He watches the turtle kid open his eyes slightly and look at him before looking at the bottle.

Lars smiles and opens the bottle, holding it up and letting the turtle drink. "Alright, so I'm thinking I'm stuck with you right?...so...what is your name?...or do we need a new one?"

The turtle gulps down the drink, halfway paying attention to him. Before he sets it down. "Mm..m-mikey"

Lars stares, genuinely not expecting him to have been able to talk. "Huh...okay...hi Mikey, I'm Lars.." he spoke softly watching as the turtle, well. Mikey use up what little energy he had left to set down the bottle and curl back up against him, closing his eyes.

"yeah, yeah...I know.." he caps the drink and pulls Mikey close to himself. "Don't use up all that energy, you can go back to sleep again.." he smiles as Mikey seemed to take him up on that offer.

He leans against the wall, still feeling like he was failing...but he did feel like he done something right. He smiles down at Mikey, maybe he wouldn't mess this up too bad.

His head leans against the wall and he closes his eyes letting all the stress die a little before he hears the sound of glass shattering slightly, his eyes opening quickly as he looks around.

Then he hears the voices.

"shit"

[BONUS DRAWING]

Lars and mikeeyyy

#rise au #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #an earthquake rumbles #future rottmnt #threewrites #rise mikey #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt michelangelo #rise michelangelo #cw child sickness #tw child sickness

[firesign23]

Watched episode 7 of the new X-men with my kid, and I lost my shit multiple times.

(1) "Why do I feel like [Cap's shield] hit a random goat?"

(2) Roberto's arc: "I'd just show up and say Hola, I'm a mutant now and if she didn't like it that's her problem" and then "That woman needs to go to Mother School"

(3) Kurt says Rogue lost two people. "Gambit and Remy!" pause "Nobody cares about Magneto"

(4) *gets teary at Rogue and Trask* "She didn't yeet him off the building, she dropped him. Probably not onto a goat."

(5) At the end "I don't know what my eyes just saw, but it's going to take me a day to figure it out." Same, bud. Same.

#xmen 97 spoilers

[disneytva]

“I love the idea of opening up a child’s imagination and challenging a child’s mind,” she says. “That’s always been something I’ve gravitated towards, and it makes the job even more fulfilling than just creating a beautiful visual.”

Abigail Nesbitt has been featured on Variety's Top 10 Animators To Watch of 2023 sponsored by Nickelodeon

As the supervising director of Disney Junior’s “Pupstruction” — a pre-K animated series about a team of canine construction workers — Nesbitt sought inspiration from a plethora of real-world sources, learning about engineering, hydraulics, and industrial machinery to make the show’s tot-friendly world as tangible as possible. Fortunately, she didn’t have to go far. “Here in my apartment on 9th Street in Brooklyn, they’ve been building a subway immediately outside for the last three years,” she says. “So if I need to check out how a particular truck works, I just have to go outside.” With a decade-plus career as a storyboard artist for kids’ animation projects like “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” and Sesame Street’s “Abby’s Flying Fairy School,” Nesbitt moved up into storyboard directing for Disney Junior toons “Goldie and Bear” and “T.O.T.S.” — the latter of which introduced her to “Pupstruction” creator Travis Braun. Though it sometimes doesn’t get the same respect as animation aimed at older kids and adults, working on preschool-targeted shows allows Nesbitt the opportunity to indulge her imagination while still grounding fantastical worlds in real-life mechanics that a child can comprehend. “I love the idea of opening up a child’s imagination and challenging a child’s mind,” she says. “That’s always been something I’ve gravitated towards, and it makes the job even more fulfilling than just creating a beautiful visual.” Taking on her first role as a supervising director, Nesbitt credits “Pupstruction’s” close-knit team with helping her make the transition seamlessly, and she hopes to use her position to extend the same sorts of opportunities to other budding female animators. “I hadn’t actually seen another woman in the position of some of the jobs I worked on. So I love the idea of mentoring and coaching and helping other female animators and artists, letting them know that there are so many opportunities and stories for them to tell as well.”

Abigail Nesbitt has a series of her own on development at Disney Junior Educational Resource Group for Disney Junior

#Abigail Nesbitt #Goldie And Bear #Goldie & Bear #T.O.T.S. Tiny Ones Transport Service #T.O.T.S #Pupstruction #Disney Junior #Disney Jr #Variety #Nickelodeon

[summersnow82]

The Scent of Roses - Part 8

Fanfiction_X-Men

Fictober 2023_Prompt 31: “It’s not your fault.”

Author's note: A kind anon let me know my posts weren't showing up in the tags recently. Here's hoping that'll change. Thanks for sticking with me.

.....

Sabrina had been right: her class was not ready to discuss And Then There Were None – which was a shame because it’s a phenomenal read. Instead they had questions, concerns, fears to address, and a nasty rumor about Rogue Sabrina intended to nip in the bud immediately.

“Quiet down, quiet down!” She called, gaining her students attention. “Now let’s be clear here – there’s enough bickering outside these mansion walls. It will not happen in my classroom, understood?” The students all reluctantly nodded. “And further more,” she looked directly at Rogue who was staring at her desk a bit too intently. “Rogue did nothing wrong. Rogue.” The young woman looked up, surprised she was being called out so directly. “It’s not your fault. I made a choice, and some of my team were unhappy about it.” She turned to look at the other students, taking the time to meet their eyes. “I made the choice. Me. So if you want someone to blame look right here.”

Sabrina sighed, raking a hand through her hair. She hadn’t had time to put it in a French twist or a high ponytail like she preferred. She’d barely had time to grab a suitable outfit, but the blue and white polka dot midi dress with a flared skirt, short white gloves, a pale pink cardigan, and navvy ballet flats would have to do for now. She’d deal with her hair later. She moved to the front of her desk, perching on the edge to survey her class. “We’re going to use this class to talk about your concerns with this cure. Your hopes, your fears, all of it. So,” she stood, flashing them a smile, “let’s move these desks into a circle, shall we?”

….

His political appointment as Secretary of Mutant Affairs left Hank with little free time, and for this reason he’d resigned as a full time teacher at Xavier’s school. Still, when he was home he would often take three or four students under his wing for mentoring and academic expansion. Charles had also given him a small drama class to conduct, which oftentimes paired with Jean’s public speaking class. He’d yet to speak to Charles about his news from the President, and to his credit, the older man had let Hank marinate in his thoughts without prompting. But he’d had his cup of coffee – more than one, actually – and time to mull over a number of rising concerns and issues, and now he needed to find his old friend.

And probably take care of some hygiene issues on the way. He glanced down at his rumpled clothes and grimaced.

Xavier’s school had a number of classrooms, but not all of them were presently being used. Several teachers had resigned or left, which wasn’t uncommon. Hank and Sabrina had both left at one point or another, as had Warren and Kurt. Logan consistently behaved as if the front door were a revolving door. Their staff numbers were currently lower than ever, and many teachers were taking on several classes to make sure the students educational needs were being met. Logan was tackling history and shop class; Jean had genetics and public speaking; Sabrina was teaching English while acting as the guidance counselor; Storm had environmental sciences and art; Scott had mathematics and physical education; and the Professor was teaching ethics and psychology. Each adult was part of a rotation for the Danger Room training for the older students, and they were always paired up differently. Hank would need to check his schedule again and see if he needed to trade shifts.

His thoughts consumed him as he headed towards his room, and he didn’t realize he was passing Sabrina’s classroom until he was walking by the doorway. His eyes tracked the way her hair fell around her shoulders, how her eyes lit up as she spoke to her students, and how her lips always seemed to have a touch of a smile as she engaged with them. “All these feelings and thoughts are completely valid, guys,” she said, looking around the room. “We’re in uncharted waters, but I promise you there’s no one better to navigate this than Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy. You have the best of the best looking out for you.”

Hank couldn’t help himself. He turned on his heel, propped himself up in the classroom doorway, and crossed his arms across his broad chest. “Do you really think so, Professor Snow?” His deep baritone made everyone look his way, but none looked more startled than Sabrina herself. She hadn’t realized she had an audience for her class. A chorus of cheers went up from the students – Hank was arguably one of the more popular teachers at Xavier’s school – and with his political position he was currently a hot topic on campus. Hank regarded the students warmly before turning his attention back to Sabrina. “I apologize, Professor Snow. I didn’t mean to crash your class.” He held her gaze as he spoke, watched her take a deep breath before she forced a smile.

“Nonsense. You’re always welcome here.” Her tone told him he was actually not welcome at all, and a few of the students exchanged glances.

“Professor Snow, can Dr. McCoy join our conversation, too?” Kitty Pryde asked, glancing between the two of them. The younger woman was notably observant and direct.

Sabrina faltered for a moment, but then her mouth quirked up in a small smile. “Of course, Kitty. But I’m sure Dr. McCoy has many pressing items on his schedule. He probably doesn’t have the time.” She shot him a look that expressly told him to take the out she was offering. Instead, he all but smirked, pushing away from the door jamb and striding into the classroom like the cat who ate the canary. With amazing ease and grace he leapt in the air, somersaulted over the students heads, and came to stand next to Sabrina who was perched on her own desk.

“I’m never too busy for you,” he said to the class, but his eyes were on Sabrina’s. There wasn’t much she could do in front of the students without causing a scene; Hank knew it, she knew it, and he intended to take full advantage. “Now,” he said, projecting his voice and turning to face the kids. “What would you like to know?”

A number of hands shot up, and Hank chuckled. “What about you, Bobby?”

The younger man lowered his hand almost reluctantly, then said, “Are you going to get the cure, sir?”

Hank should’ve expected it, but he’d been too busy showboating and teasing Sabrina to consider the ramifications of this very serious topic. He probably looked as stunned as he felt, and for just a ghost of a moment Sabrina placed her gloved hand on his arm. “Bobby, that’s a very personal question,” she said gently.

“Yeah, but it kind of matters, right?” Kitty said. “I mean, if the teachers we’re learning from are considering getting it then maybe there’s some merit to it.”

Hank drew his mouth in a tight, firm line, and glanced over at Sabrina. “That’s a very good point, Kitty,” he said, rubbing his jaw. “If I’m being honest, I’ve thought of it, yes. I suppose every mutant with a visible mutation has considered it. It can be difficult when you can’t pass for a human. However,” he raised a finger. “There is still much we do not know about this so called cure. Will it last? Are there side effects? What else might it do to us?” He stepped away from the desk into the center of the desk-formed circle. “This cure has been released without – to our knowledge – long term testing, and perhaps questionable methods. I have been tasked with answering these questions, and more, and I will be leaving in a few days time to do just that.” He turned back to Sabrina, all seriousness and sincerity now. “I was hoping you might accompany me, Miss Snow. A talent like yours could prove invaluable to our team, and you have the credentials to back you up.” Sabrina’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open for a moment before she clamped it shut. He gave her a small, genuine smile. “Something to consider, of course.”

More hands shot up in the air. Hank took his time answering a number of them, some technical, some incredibly simple, but all important to the students before him.

“What if they come for us here?” A young girl by the name of Jenna asked. Jenna was relatively new to the school, and still finding her voice, figuratively and literally.

The room got very quiet, and Hank rose to his full height. “Then I assure you, dear girl, that would be a most grave error on their part.”

“Professor Snow?” Rogue had been quiet for most of the class, but now she raised her eyes and looked Sabrina in the eye. “Are you going to get the cure?”

Hank turned to see Sabrina take a deep breath, let it loose, and hop down from her perch. She moved around the desk to the black board and began writing. “Anthony Smalls. Three years old. Taken from his home for a million dollar ransom.” Her hand moved quickly as she spoke, the clack-clack of the chalk the only sound other than her voice. “Violet Henries. Six years old. Taken from her school to sway a jury. Jonathan Edwards. Three months old. Taken by a jealous ex-wife. Julietta Gonzalez. Twelve years old. Taken for trafficking. Robert Sweat. Thirteen years old. Also taken for trafficking.” She continued on with a list of names and ages accompanying them with a reason for the kidnapping. The class was quiet as she worked, and Hank watched her as a new level of comprehension descended upon him.

Sabrina didn’t stop talking until the chalkboard – at least what she could reach of it – was filled with names. She turned back to the class. “These aren’t even half of the children I’ve been able to return to their homes and families alive because of my abilities. Another dozen were found postmortem, and the ability to bring their loved ones home offered the families a sense of closure.” She put the chalk down, dusted off her hands, and walked around her desk. She removed her gloves as she did so, securing them in her dress pockets. “I cannot touch anything or anyone,” her finger trailed over a desk causing her eyes to faintly glow. “Without taking something away. Memories, thoughts, emotions. In some cases, even talents and abilities. This makes relationships difficult.” She brushed by Hank as she spoke, and he tracked her path with curious eyes. “I walk into a room and I immediately can sense the atmosphere. This makes crowds difficult. I can’t go to concerts or movies on opening night or many special events. But I can assess danger quickly, read a person’s intentions, and bring children home to their families. Our lives as mutants are not easy ones; I know Professor Xavier has drilled this into you in his Ethics class. Oftentimes what we think is a curse is actually a gift. Maybe not for us, but for someone else.” She pointed at the chalkboard. “If I can do that, what can you do?” She turned to Rogue. “I won’t be getting the cure, no matter how much I might be tempted. Someone has to keep the real monsters at bay.”

#fictober23 #fictober #fictober 2023 #my fics #ao3 fanfic #x men fanfic #hank mccoy #kelsey grammer #sabrina snow #the scent of roses #rogue #kitty pryde #iceman #my ocs #hank mccoy x original female character #fanfiction #fanfic

[bucketofbugz]

Re-mutating Leo (1)

*Knock*

L: Hm?

D: Hey Leo! I have great news!

L: Hm? What is it, bud?

D: Raph and I just finished retro-mutating all the mutants that wanted it!

D: -and mutants -- both retro-mutated or not -- are allowed to resume their lives!

L: That's nice,

D: But that's not even the best part!

L: Huh? Then what is?

D: Thanks to our involvement, we're no longer deemed a threat!

D: April and I discussed a few things now that she works at the high school, and she managed to get us the paperwork to enroll!

L: Wait, really?!

D: Yeah!

L: Wait, would I even be able to go?

D: Why not?

L: I mean, I can't write, I struggle speaking.. besides, almost dying if I get too dry definitely wouldn't help.

D: That's the next thing! I know you denied fully mutating yourself because there were so many people left to retro-mutate-

D: But now, everyone that wanted it got it! So..

D: Even though this should have been our priority forever ago -- Leo, do you want to be re-mutated?

The silly ever he deserves happiness ☹️

getting to write Dannie not being a little angsty butthead is also a bonus <3

Part One

Next part (not out yet)

#TMNT #TMNT au #Comic #TMNT comic #TMNT iteration #Green painted ruins au #TMNT Leo #TMNT Donnie #Re-mutating Leo

[teatitty]

Confirmation of her age at last! And this is what happens when we don't nip bullying in the bud once it starts. Angelo [aka Skin] got discovered as a mutant while protecting another kid getting bullied, and Emma and Sean told him he never should've gotten involved because now he's put the whole school in a precarious situation. Naturally the other kids didn't agree with that, but because Emma and Sean are more concerned about what "the other parents" will think its lead to this :)

#tea reads #biggest regret of my life is never listening to my dad and brother #when they told me 'hit your bullies back' so I'm giving the same advice here #jubilee light em up with your sparks fuck em

[toodles-me-doodles]

Charles: Your son has no survival or self-preservation instincts.

Erik: That can’t be true-

Scott: Hey, Peter! Race you downstairs!

Peter: *jumps out of a third story window*

#Peter: *has super speed* #also Peter: this is clearly the logical course of action #xmen #x men #magnet family #dadneto #incorrect xmen #xmen incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #peter maximoff #quicksilver #charles xavier #professor x #erik lehnsherr #magneto #scott summers #cyclops #mutant school buds

[goatlingsvent]

so erised is an older player, they use to be the user twosday. they misgendered foe now mutant. a user who only uses it/its. after being corrected 'it/its' they left the server and threatened to quit goatlings. they then came back as hypocritical who only used it/its and got upset whenever they were pinged, dmed or gmed at all. during then they were trying to get the final fusion for their collection, swn. during then they gave up twice and threatened to quit the game, making multiple trades on all their fusions and a forum. they demanded no ping, no dm and no gms, nothing. they never responded to any of those messages, cancelled every trade that was offered then acted like they didnt do any of that. then they became mooncore, they finally got their swn and threated to quit more times throwing everything in trades looking for offers, no dm, no pings, no gms then cancelled and ignored everyone. then they became eriseda, threatened to quit and then eventually temp self banned. one thing all of these have in common is that eri makes it very known theyre quitting and then never follows through with any of it. they do it for attention and i think as a way to make not only people in the discord but the person they have problems with feel bad. nothing they do is genuine, everything is fake and its the same when they describe who they are. eris sketchy mention of themselves changes everytime they talk about themself. if we put together all of what eri has ssaid about themselves they are a homeless (by choice) mother of 4 with two jobs and still in high school while both being 20 years old who has worked 10 years in the same career path.

not to mention they have changed race 3 different times in the way they describe and dress their ha buddy despite believing that your ha bud should look like you. they are an inconsistent person, who intentionally plays the game with the main goal of getting people to pity them and give them attention. yes the white art is their self insert. theyve since hue shifted the skin color but since they erased their entire bio its not there anymore.

#screenshots #submission #eriseda #hypocritical #mooncore #sensitivity

[wizardlyghost]

- another TUTORIAL SHORT! i was quick enough to grab a screenshot this time.

- the last one talked about STRENGTH, so i expected the next one to talk about PERCEPTION, but it looks like the S.P.E.C.I.A.L. is just on shuffle and not coming out in any particular order.

- it’s possible that these have been playing every time the game booted but i’ve accidentally been skipping past them by mashing buttons in my adhd-fueled impatience. difficult to say.

- these things are mildly disturbing in a cartoon gore way. something about the cheerful upbeat tone.

- the first thing i learned was that sometimes INNOCENTLY TRESPASSING around an ABANDONED SHACK IN THE WOODS will prompt a SENTRY BOT to wake up and GET you.

- i reached the SOUTHERNMOST SETTLEMENT on my map pretty fast though. the guy there wanted me to clear out a SCHOOL full of GHOULS. the mission was not called TOO GHOUL FOR SCHOOL, which is maybe the most disappointing thing in this game so far.

- this environment is also among the most unpleasant i’ve encountered. idk why anyone would choose to live in this MIRELURK SWAMP when there are perfectly dry areas further north.

- multiple BROTHERHOOD OF STEEL VERTIBIRDS? pause the other thread, there’s something going down here.

- turned out all that was going down was that the BROTHERHOOD and their best buds the RAIDERS and the SUPER MUTANTS were having another friendly scrap.

- the BROTHERHOOD... aren’t really doing well, it looks like. VERTIBIRDS seem like they might be more of a liability than an asset in surface-to-ground combat - when i arrived there were two flying and one that had already crashed, and before long the other two went down as well. these guys talk a big game but i’m honestly not sure coming to the COMMONWEALTH was a great move on their part - idk how many VERTIBIRDS the PRYDWEN carried here but i doubt the loss of three entire aircraft plus crew would be considered a minor setback.

- i helped out where i could but ultimately an OUT OF CONTROL VERTIBIRD exploded in my face and in surprise i stepped backward through the roof of the CHURCH, fell three storeys and broke my legs and spine.

- upon respawning i decided the BROTHERHOOD could fight their own damn battles and headed for the SCHOOL.

#FALLOUT 4: THE RESURRECTION OF OSHA #FALLOUT 4 LIVEBLOG: THE GHOST FALLS OUT #fallout 4

[foxilayde]

Hi! Super congratulations on the surge in followers! We’re all here for the Oscar Isaac content lbr. Your work is so good omfg. If it’s okay with you, could I do the ship game? 👉🏼👈🏼 I’m Tanya, I’m like 5’9, I’m a Leo sun, Gemini moon, and Sagittarius rising! I’m working on my second version of my Moon Knight cosplay, and I’m just generally a big big nerd who likes to go fast in my little car on the highway. Perfect first date is literally just going to get food and just find somewhere to hang out and talk. Dates don’t always need to be fancy, sometimes all it takes are some $1 fries and some chicken nuggets to have a good time.

Tanya!! You are absolutely perfect for Standard!! IT JUST FITS SO WELL AND YOU'RE SO CUTE TOGETHER

Look, Standard is a good guy, sure he’s got a rough past but he’s trying to turn all that around for his son Benicio, to give him a better life. He loves your laid back energy and is totally smitten by your joy for the little things. 

You met Standard at The Arcade play-land!! You were there for your younger cousin’s 8th birthday party. The little guy had so many school friends show up with their parents to enjoy a fun day of arcade games, mini-golf ,and go-kart racing. 

When you arrived, you figured you’d get plenty of time to spend with your cousin, but he was so busy with all his little school friends, you decided to have fun yourself and play some videogames. 

You were putting in your tokens for an old-school teenage mutant ninja turtle game, when a little hand tugged on your sleeve. You look down and it’s the cutest little boy, about your cousin’s age and he’s asking if he can play two player with you. You tell him “of course you can” and hand him a token to put in his side of the game. You let him win a couple rounds, but then he calls you out for going soft on him, so you play a little harder. 

When your fighter beats him on the third round, the little boy screams with a laugh at the dance the character does on the screen. 

“There you are, Benny! Are you bothering this nice lady?”

You turn to see the man coming up behind the boy, patting him on the shoulder, he leans in to look at the screen. 

“Not taking it easy on him, huh? You know he’s only eight years old right?” 

“He asked me not to! And he’s really good, by the way,” You nudge the boy, Benny, who smiles.

The, wow, very attractive man, laughs and pats your shoulder. “I know, I’m just teasing.” He ruffles Benny’s hair and asks him, “You said you wanted to do go-kart’s Benny?”

“Yes!” Benny squeals “Go Karts!” 

“Okay then, I signed us up for the next round.” 

“I want the red helmet!”

“Alright, bud, you can have the red helmet but you gotta do something for me first, yeah?”

“Okay.”

The man bends down to whisper something in his son’s ear and then stands up with with a sly grin and winks at you. 

Benny grabs your hand and is pulling you out to where the racetrack is. His dad is on your heels and stops Benny with a hand on his shoulder.

“Woah, bud I said ask her to ride with us! Not kidnap her!”

“Oh sorry.”

“That’s alright,” you smile, “I’d love to go-kart with you…”

“Standard… and Benicio.”

“I’m Tanya, nice to meet you both.”

Standard takes Benny’s other hand and you all-three walk out to the racetrack. “I hope you don’t mind wearing the blue helmet, Tanya. Benny’s got dibs on the red.”

“I don’t mind at all.” You grin at him, and he smiles back. 

#ITS SUCH A CUTE RELATIONSHIP IM ROOTING FOR YOU GUYS #Follower Celebration #Standard #Oscar Isaac

[lost-in-interwebs]

scenes from the Wasteland that always help me fall asleep at night:

a volunteer teacher staying in the renovated school house well into the night to help a struggling adult student. they are patient and kind while their student is obviously embarrassed but slowly building confidence in their ability and trust in this teacher

a small child with severe anger issues scribbling pure black coal and red from a prickly pear onto a large sheet of old newspaper while his therapist watches on, impressed that he's using this coping mechanism over breaking things in her small, crumbling office

a super mutant woman walks through the wasteland pushing her old irradiated dog in an old stroller. she's fixed a radio to a small shelf she built between the stroller's legs. it tinnily plays classical music as she stares lovingly into its cataract filled eyes.

A group of merchant guards entertain themselves with made up songs until they are barked at by their respective merchant. They ignore him, singing in whispers, breaking into giggles at a particular witty or dirty line. They eat soup in the evening and fall asleep warm and happy

She always wanted to open a restaurant and her ability to pull flavor from meager ingredients draws a decent crowd to her budding business. Feeding people brings her the greatest happiness in the world. Sweat and stink be damned.

#falloutfun #idc if this is stupid these scenarios help me fall asleep so quickly