#ask him to add 6 and 7 he'll have 2 steps for the answer

[thejacketscloset]

Soap is extremely good at math, but his methods for getting his answers confuse Ghost to no end. He goes through added steps to equations Ghost would never even consider, he somehow factors and simplifies at the same time. Despite how complicated Soap's process seems to be though, Ghost has yet to see him be wrong.

Ghost asks Soap about his process once between missions. They're relaxing on base and Soap is going over his formulas for his demolitions, looking for any improvements he could make. Ghost gets another glance at his nearly illegible equations and forgets to hold his tounge before it's too late.

"How in the bloody hell do you make sense of all of that?" He grumbles out, sounding more confused than anything.

Soap glances over to where Ghost is peeking at his notes, and he offers a genuine smile.

"Ah dunno'. Just kinda clump together the things that make most sense." Soap answers. He points to a specific part of his notes as he speeks, but it does little to make them any more clear for Ghost.

Ghost hums and considers the answer for a second.

"Well it's impressive, Johnny. Lord knows I couldn't do all that."

He hardly thinks the praise is anything special, but then he's looking back to Soap's face and he's just beaming at Ghost, and damn if he can't fight off his own smile.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Summary: A baby shower has you reuniting with Eddie (and Harris). Unbeknownst to Eddie, it's right when he'll need you most--but is he ready to forgive?

Warnings: mention of pregnancy, small allusion to sex, mentions of Grandma Sweetheart's death, mentions of learning disability

WC: 7.4k

Chapter 11/20

Divider credit to @saradika

Mid-January in Hawkins is cold, with temperatures in the mid-30s, but a bundled-up Harris Munson is unfazed. Eddie happily watches as his son practically flies across the empty playground and heads straight for the swingset. In the warmer weather, it’s a coveted spot amongst the kids and usually ends in a battle, but the chill in the air means that Harris doesn’t have to fight for a turn. 

“Daddy! Uncle Jeff!” he calls out, voice muffled by the blue scarf securely wrapped around the lower half of his face, “come push me!”

Jeff laughs with a shake of his head as he and Eddie trudge across the frost-covered grass. “You heard the man.”

“Ready to have a little gremlin of your own?” Eddie teases, hoisting Harris onto the swing, making sure his bottom is squared on the rubber surface. He catches a glimpse of the baby swing to his right, and his heart pangs at the memory of Harris being tiny enough to fit in there. “Lemme tell ya, it goes by quick. The days are long but the years are short.”

Jeff just gives a little nod, and Eddie can tell that he doesn’t quite believe him. “I’m serious, man. And all that stuff they say about not knowing what love is until you have kids? Man, I thought that was the biggest crock of shit. Like, of course I know what love is! I love my music, my uncle, even you guys,” he adds with a gleam in his eyes, referring to his former bandmates. “And then Harris was born, and I was like, ‘holy shit, this is what it means to love someone.’” He positions himself behind the swing, giving Harris another big push before stepping aside to let Jeff have a turn. 

Jeff looks at him incredulously. Eddie Munson is no stranger to a good rant, but never one this vulnerable. He’s speechless for a moment before clearing his throat. “Th-Thanks, Ed,” he manages, offering the white paper bag he’d picked up on the way to the playground. “Y’still like peanut butter creme donuts, right?”

“Hell yes!” Eddie cheers, pumping his fist in excitement. He reaches into the bag and pulls out the chocolate frosted confection, taking a huge bite triumphantly. “‘M tellin’ ya: Em and Abi’s Gourmet Donuts is the best thing about this town,” he exclaims with a mouthful of peanutty filling. 

“Really?” Jeff chuckles, taking a honeycomb donut from the bag. “Better than a certain preschool teacher you may or may not be infatuated with?”

A blush creeps into Eddie’s cheeks, and he hopes he can pass it off as a reaction to the winter winds. “Not in front of…” he trails off, jerking his head in the direction of his son. 

“Got it, got it,” Jeff smoothly agrees, but he still presses the topic in a roundabout way. “But, uh, any luck with that?”

“Nope,” Eddie cuts him off. “I’ve just been giving her space like you said, but she hasn’t reached out or asked about tutoring again.” He shrugs as though it doesn’t bother him, but both he and Jeff know that that can’t be further from the truth. 

Jeff gives Harris a big push, smiling when he hears the boy’s giggle. “You haven’t called or anything?” he asks. 

“Once, after I saw her during drop-off.” Eddie admits, twisting the ring on his pinky finger. “Left a message but she never called back.”

He plays it back in his head, a constant loop that he’d practically memorized before relaying it to your answering machine. As much as he wanted to resolve everything sooner rather than later, he was embarrassingly relieved when he’d heard your outgoing message. Still, the sweetness of your recorded voice was honeyed tea on a dreary day, and he didn’t anticipate his breath to hitch when it played. 

“H-Hey, Sweetheart. Shit, can I call you that? Um, anyway, give me a call when you can. I think we should talk.”

The two men take turns pushing Harris and chasing him around the playground. At one point, Harris makes his way to the pole, painted school bus yellow. He reaches out with two chubby hands, but his feet stay grounded on the platform. “‘M scared,” he whimpers, still clinging to the pole. 

“You got this, Mini Munson!” Jeff cheers, frowning when Harris remains in place. “Tell ya what: if you slide down the pole, I’ll make your dad do it, too.” He grins mischievously, and Eddie would discreetly flip him the bird if he didn’t have a better alternative. 

“Yeah, bud, and then Uncle Jeff will go after me.” He mouths a silent ha at his friend, but neither seem to mind. 

And after a few seconds of deliberation, Harris flings his body forward and slowly makes his way down, hands squeaking along the metal.

“I did it!” he announces triumphantly, turning to Eddie. “Your turn, Daddy!”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, but a smile dances on his lips. He darts up the jungle gym steps and hangs onto the pole. He could simply put his feet down and touch the ground, but where’s the fun in that? Instead, he lets out a high-pitched, “wheeeee!” as Harris cackles loudly. 

He claps Jeff on the back once his shoes touch the rubber turf. “You’re up, big boy.”

Jeff follows suit, mimicking Eddie and making Harris laugh even harder. 

“Uncle Jeff, you’re so silly!” he exclaims, using hands and feet to clamber back up to the top and slide down the pole; this time, there’s no hesitation. 

Harris repeats the routine again and again until Eddie catches a glimpse of the digital watch around his wrist. “We gotta leave in five minutes, Har Bear,” he reports matter-of-factly, hoping his lack of emotion will ward off any impending tantrums. 

Harris’s lower lip juts out as his pupils dart back and forth between Eddie and Jeff. “Aw, why?”

Eddie crouches down to match his son’s height, pressing palms to his knees for stability. “We’re gonna help Uncle Jeff pack up the presents from the baby shower, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He pauses, pursing his lips in concentration. “How did the baby get in Auntie Viv’s tummy?”

Jeff’s eyes widen at the question, and he glances at Eddie, silently willing him to say something. Eddie clears his throat, wracking his brain for a response that will placate his son’s curiosity without giving away too much information. “Um, well,” he begins, biting the inside of his cheek to buy himself more time before settling on: “when a man and a woman love each other, that love can make a baby.”

Fortunately, Harris seems satisfied with that answer, and Jeff hands him a chocolate donut to distract him from asking anything else. The boy plunks down in the grass a few paces ahead of them and takes a big bite.

“How is it?” Jeff calls to him, chuckling when Harris responds with a chocolate crumb-covered thumbs up and turns his attention back to the dessert. “Nice save,” he says to Eddie, clapping a hand on his shoulder and giving him a little shake. “But what are you gonna say when he asks about his mom?”

“Jesus H; he’s gonna have to give me a few years to come up with an answer for that one.”

Despite every cell in your body urging you to stay away, you’re back in Hawkins. More specifically, you’re in Viv and Jess’s parents’ house, cleaning up after an overall successful baby shower. You’re spooning the leftover food into Tupperware while Jess washes dishes and her girlfriend, Robin, dries and puts them in their respective cabinets.

You’d returned to Grandma’s apartment last night after Jess begged you to come to the shower, lamenting that the party was going to be all of her sister’s lame friends and she needed someone actually fun to hang out with her and Robin. Her insistence, coupled with your desire to finish out the remainder of the school year, is why you’d tossed your suitcases into your sedan and made the trek. Yup, those were the only reasons; certainly nothing to do with–

“Have you talked to Eddie since you got back?”

His name alone brings a surge of emotions, none of which you have the energy to identify. “No,” you mumble, a heat blooming in your cheeks, “he left a message a week ago saying ‘we should talk,’ but I didn’t return it.”

Jess snaps off the faucet, hands still dripping with soapy water as she places them on her hips with an exasperated sigh. “What? Why not?”

“Because.” You try to leave it at that, but her defiant glare obligates you to elaborate. “Because I’m embarrassed!” you admit to Jess and Robin–and to yourself. “The guy practically chased me down the night we met, and now that he got to know me, he doesn’t want to sleep with me? Is my personality that much of a turn-off?” You snap the lid on a plastic container, desperate to end the conversation with your rhetorical question, but your friend keeps going.

“Look, I don’t know him that well–only what I’ve heard from you and Jeff–but he seems to really care about you. Jeff says he hasn’t seen Eddie down this bad, like, ever.” She lowers her voice. “Apparently, some old hookup was coming onto him, and he turned her down because he's, quote, involved with someone.” She raises her eyebrows inquisitively, though you both know that the someone in question is you.

“Wait, hold on–Eddie Munson?” Robin breaks in, nearly dropping the serving spoon in her hand when she makes the connection. “Metalhead, senior year three-peat, alleged Satan-worshiper Eddie Munson?”

“Well, the jury’s out on whether I worship Satan or I actually am Satan, but, yep, that’s me.” The familiar voice from the kitchen doorway startles the three of you; this time, Robin does let the oversized utensil fall to the floor with a clang. 

Nerves send your heartbeat into a frenzy, and you have to rest your open palm on the countertop to steady yourself. Eddie stands before you, tip of his nose tinged red from the cold, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Wh-What are you doing here?” You whisper the words, but you might as well be shouting with the level of anxiety steadily rising in your chest.

Eddie rocks back and forth from the soles of his feet to his toes. “Jeff asked us to help him load the gifts into the car.”

“Us?”

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris flings himself into your embrace, and as soon as you stoop down to reciprocate his hug, he’s wrapping his arms and legs around your torso. “I miss you! When are we gonna do the alphabet and eat pizza again?”

Eddie looks over at Jeff; you hadn’t even noticed the other man behind him until Eddie’s gaze drifted over. You watch as the two men exchange a knowing glance, and Jeff quickly speaks up. “Hey, Har,” he motions the boy over to him, “why don’t you use your super strong arms to bring stuff out to the car? I bet you have bigger muscles than me.”

Harris begrudgingly lets go of you, sliding to the floor and dragging his feet to Jeff. He heaves a dramatic sigh and grumbles, “fiiiiiine,” and you and Eddie have to hold back your laughter at his theatrics.

“He is definitely my kid,” Eddie says once Harris has left the room and is out of earshot. He walks closer to you as you turn back to packing up the food. “You, um, never called me back,” he murmurs, placing one hand on either side of you, his chest almost touching your back. Robin and Jess creep out of the kitchen as quietly as possible, leaving you and Eddie alone.

You clear your throat and swallow your fear. “I didn’t have anything to say.” That’s a lie; there was so much you wanted to confide in him, but the thought of him rejecting you again, or getting another glimpse of the hurt you caused reflected in his deep brown eyes, kept you from returning his call.

“Well, I did.” His tone is calm but firm. “I just need to know one thing, and then I swear I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.” He pauses, gathering up his own courage before speaking again. “That day…why did you ask me to sleep with you?” 

“I told you,” you say, desperately trying to keep your voice from wobbling, “because I needed to feel something.”

Eddie shakes his head, stepping back and crossing his leather jacket-clad arms over his chest. “No, but why did you ask me? Why didn’t you go to the Hideout and pick up some random dude?” His volume starts to rise, and he clenches his fist and drags it back down as if reminding himself to be quieter. “Was it, like, a convenience thing, or did you really think I’d be okay having sex with you while you were so upset?”

Your heart pangs at his question. It had never even occurred to you that he’d perceive it that way. Were you being selfish? Taking what you felt you needed? Admittedly, yes. But were you asking Eddie specifically because he happened to be there? Absolutely not. “No, Eddie,” you say, forcing yourself to face him, “it’s because…because I knew you’d take care of me. If I wanted to stop or slow down, I knew you’d listen. I trust you.” Speaking the truth aloud is like letting the air out of an overfilled balloon on the cusp of popping. Both you and Eddie visibly relax, easing a tension you hadn’t realized he was also holding. 

The room is quiet for a moment. Eddie’s knee softly bumps against your thigh as he wills himself to close the gap he’d created. “You said something in your message about it never being meaningless. Not even the night we…we met.”

The reminder of your confession floods you with humiliation. You—unsuccessfully—threw yourself at him for sex and then left a message saying that you’ve been clinging to the hope of a relationship since your alcohol-laden first hook-up. How humiliating. 

“I’m sorry if that was weird, but I told Jess that I’ve never been good at one-night stands. I always get too attached.” And it doesn’t help when I have to see the guy and his adorable son twice a day, you think wryly, but you store that anecdote inside. 

Eddie shakes his head, lacing his ringed fingers with your bare ones. The pad of his thumb brushes against the knuckle of yours, both comforting you and zapping electricity through your body. “No, ‘s not weird,” he reassures you, giving your hands a squeeze. “I felt the same way, even if I didn’t realize it. I think that’s why I asked you to stay, why I held you…I’ve never done that before.” He’s sheepish but not ashamed; if he’s being honest, he’s pretty damn proud of himself for admitting it aloud. 

You tilt your chin up knowingly. “Yeah, I heard you shut down a sure thing because of your involvement with someone.”

Your emphasis of that one word has Eddie dropping his head, letting go of one of your hands and covering his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Damn, word spreads around here like it’s the five o’clock news. But, uh, yeah, I did. Turn her down.” His tongue darts out to coat his dry lips. “Not that it’s any of my business, but did you, um, see anyone over the holidays?” 

“Nope.” You shake your head, bracing yourself for what you’re about to tell him. Even though he’s the one holding you, allowing your bodies to intertwine, it’s nerve-wracking to be so vulnerable. You forge ahead, allowing the words to tumble out of your mouth. “I…I only want you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s breath gets caught in his throat. Want want want. Present tense, not past. “Want, like, present tense? Like you still feel that way?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t reek of desperation for a millisecond before realizing that he doesn’t care, as long as you still want him.

“Is that okay?” Your voice is small, an almost comic contrast from the bravado you used during your last in-person encounter. 

“It’s more than okay, Sweetheart.” Eddie’s whisper matches yours. His thumb ghosts over the plush of your lips as his hand slips to your cheek, bringing his remaining four fingers behind your ears and to the nape of your neck. He leans in, drawing you closer with his tantalizing smoky scent and raw desire. One step in, noses nudging together–

“Daddy, look at me!”

Eddie whips his head around at the sound of Harris’s voice, nearly crashing against yours, and you stumble backwards into the counter, wincing as you make contact with the linoleum. You bite back the string of swear words on your tongue, both at the pain and the missed kiss.

Jeff is panting as he chases after him, bending forward at the waist and resting his palms on his thighs. “I tried to keep him entertained, but I was not prepared for this level of energy,” he huffs, chest rising and falling with each heaving breath. His eyes dart between you and Eddie, easily picking up on the guilty looks on your faces. He mouths “sorry” and shrugs, but the moment is already over.

Harris, oblivious to the burgeoning tension in the room, tugs on his dad’s sleeve in a demand for attention. “Daddy, wanna see me lift stuff?” He jumps up and down as he asks, making his words vibrate. “Uncle Jeff says I’m the strongest kid in the world!” He opens his arms the entire length of his wingspan to emphasize his point.

“Uh, y-yeah; sure, bud.” Eddie stammers. He looks over at you and you follow his lead, watching as Harris lifts a box of diapers with a dramatic grunt. When Eddie is sure that his son has fully turned around, he grabs your hand once more and gives it a little squeeze. “We’ll pick up where we left off later,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, and it sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Ms. Sweetheart, you watch, too!” Harris insists; so you do, trailing after him all the way to Jeff’s car. Unable to see over the box, he walks it right into the back bumper, and Eddie has to step in and help him.

Once the diapers have been tetris'd into the trunk, Jeff closes the door and slaps it for good measure. “Well, I think that’s everything. Thanks again, Munson…Mini Munson.” He ruffles Harris’s mop of curls with a grin.

Eddie holds out his hand, pulling Jeff in for a hug when he takes it. “Congratulations again, man. I’m really happy for you guys.” And he genuinely is. He can’t wait to see one of his oldest and closest friends experience fatherhood.

He turns to you as Jeff heads back into the house to help Viv to the car. “Did you have anything to eat?” he asks. “I mean, we can go to Benny’s if you want. I was gonna take Harris.” The kid hasn’t had anything since breakfast except the donut, and he’s bound to get cranky sooner rather than later. 

You shake your head. “No, I wasn’t really hungry. But I’m down to split a stack of pancakes with you, if you want?”

“Like you used to do with Grandma?” He remembers you mentioning the tradition during her eulogy. The corners of his lips turn up slightly, though his smile quickly falters when he notices the misty film glazing your eyes. “Sorry, I—”

“I’m good,” you reassure him, dabbing at your lash line with the heel of your hand. “Someone really special once told me that it’s okay to be sad, so I’m kind of giving that a shot.”

This time, Eddie’s grin remains. “Is that a ‘yes’ to the pancakes?”

“Yeah. It’s a yes.” You giggle when Eddie makes a fist and pumps it in celebration. “We usually got blueberry, but I’m down for chocolate chip,” you say, remembering his food preference from your first date.

“Nah, I can get behind blueberry,” he says. What he doesn’t say is that he would eat anchovy pancakes if it meant making you happy. 

“But I want chicken fingers!” Harris scrunches up his nose, and both you and Eddie know that a hungry four-year-old is not to be challenged. 

Eddie scoops Harris up into his arms, smacking a wet kiss to his chubby cheek. One day, his son will wipe them off, but Eddie’s glad that today is not that day. “Then the boy shall have the finest chicken fingers in all of Hawkins!” He declares in a deep voice before winking at you. “More pancakes for me and the pretty lady.”

Harris’s eyes widen. “So you do think she’s pretty–”

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road!” Eddie cuts him off. You duck your head as though that will ward off further questioning from Harris, but not before catching a glimpse of Eddie mouthing, “like a princess.”

You can smell the aroma of the deep fryer as soon as you pull into Benny’s parking lot. Since you drove yourself to the shower, you and Eddie take separate cars and meet there. The small diner isn’t overly crowded, and the three of you squeeze into a booth in the back corner. Eddie sits on one side and you on the other; you assume Harris will slide in next to his dad, but he chooses you instead. 

Your waiter introduces himself as Ryan and places three sets of silverware on the table. He starts to hand you the menus, but Eddie politely shakes his head and tells him, “‘S all good, man. We know what we want.” He orders a plate of chicken fingers and fries for Harris and a short stack of blueberry pancakes for you and him. “Y’want anything to drink?” he asks you, and you contemplate for a moment before ordering a hot coffee, and Eddie gets the same.

“I want a coffee, too,” Harris pipes up, flashing his million-watt grin at Ryan, who holds back a laugh and promises that the food will be right out.

 “So, Harris,” you start, taking a small sip from the glass of ice water in front of you, “how was your Christmas? Get anything good?”

“Mhm!” he chirps, swiveling his body to face yours. “I got a bunch of new Hot Wheels and some cool markers for drawing. They smell like fruits!”

“Very different from when I used to sniff markers back in my day,” Eddie jokes, and you kick his foot lightly in an attempt to silently tell him to behave. His eyes twinkle mischievously when you playfully roll yours.

“That sounds awesome!” you exclaim, bringing your attention back to Harris and adding, “I bet Mr. Will would want to see your new markers if you want to swing by my classroom on Monday.”

Harris’s face lights up, and he claps his hands together in jubilance. “Maybe I can draw something for him!”

“He’d love that,” you tell him, and the little boy squeezes his hands into tiny fists and lets out an excited squeal.

Ryan returns a few moments later balancing a plate of chicken fingers in one hand and the pancakes in the other. Your stomach rumbles; you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you were presented with food. Eddie peels back the film of one of the small plastic syrup containers, positioning it over the pancakes and cocking his eyebrow to get your approval. You nod, and he tilts and swirls it as you watch it drip down the sugary stack. 

“How was your visit with your family?” He doesn’t refer to it as your visit home, because he hopes that you consider Hawkins your home now. He unfurls his napkin and pulls out the fork and knife, cutting into the stack, and you mirror his actions.

Harris stretches his arm out across you, and you realize he’s reaching for the glass ketchup bottle, so you twist off the cap and plop some onto his plate. He dips a fry into it happily. “About as good as it could be,” you answer Eddie. “Everyone kind of tried to act normal, but it was like they were trying too hard, y’know?”

“Was Grandma there?” Harris asks through a mouthful of fried potato.

You bite your lip, not quite sure what he knows and what Eddie wants him to know. Death is a tricky subject to broach with young kids, and you don’t want to say anything that will confuse or scare him. Luckily, Eddie jumps in and comes to your rescue. “Har Bear, remember I told you that Grandma went to Heaven?” He gently reminds his son. “That’s why you made that nice card for Ms. Sweetheart.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harris’s expression morphs from inquisitive to concern, even as he chows down on a chicken finger. “Are you still sad?”

“Sometimes,” you admit, more to yourself than to him, “but it gets a little better every day. And being around my favorite guys helps put me in a good mood.”

Eddie presses a syrupy hand to his chest in mock astonishment. “Who, us?” He smiles and spears another cut of pancake with his fork. “How did you know flattery works with me?”

Before you can formulate a response–something teasing but not overly flirtatious–Harris poses a new question: “Ms. Sweetheart, do you have any babies?”

“Harris!” His son’s name comes out sharper than he intends, but Eddie’s too flustered to think twice. He looks at you apologetically, practically crimson from his cheeks to his ears. “Sorry, he hasn’t stopped talking about babies since I told him about the baby shower.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, giving his hand a small squeeze to show that you truly don’t mind Harris’s curiosity. You look at the boy and tell him, “I don’t have any babies, but I consider all of my students to be my babies.”

“Me, too?”

You chuckle and take a sip of coffee. “Of course, you, too!”

There’s a brief silence as you all eat–Eddie steals a fry from Harris’s plate and shoves it in his mouth before he can get caught. While hilarious, his timing couldn’t be worse, because he has no way of stopping Harris’s next statement:

“You and my daddy could have a baby. Because you’re a woman and he’s a man.” It’s matter-of-fact, said while dunking his food in the ketchup pile, as though this is something everyone drops into normal conversation. “That’s how you get a baby in your tummy like Aunt Viv.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle your laughter, not wanting to reinforce his inadvertently entertaining assertion.

Eddie is far less amused than you are, nearly choking on his swiped French fry. “Chrissakes…” he hisses, ducking and bringing his fist to his forehead, “Harris, eat your chicken fingers, quietly.” He breathes out with a puff of his cheeks as Harris obliges, completely oblivious to the meaning behind his suggestion. 

A beat of awkward silence ensues as you eat a hunk of pancake, warm blueberry juice seeping into your tongue. Grandma used to joke around and say that the blueberries made it a healthy food. “Practically a fruit salad,” she’d tease with a glint of happiness dancing in her eyes. 

Eddie, meanwhile, is desperate for a subject change. His palms are slick from what he’s like to think is merely embarrassment, but it’s multifaceted. The idea of the three of you sitting in Benny’s just as you are now, only you’re eating for two, has his stomach in knots. And if he even dares to dream about what getting you pregnant entails? He’s a goner.  

“Harris has a birthday coming up,” he blurts out a bit too loudly, unable to control his volume. “He’s turning the big, uh, five.” 

You can feel Harris eagerly kicking his legs next to you, so you match his enthusiasm. “Wow, Har! That’s a whole hand!” You hold up five fingers and Harris does the same, bringing his palm to yours.

“Are you gonna come to my birthday party?” He peers up at you with hopeful eyes, and you’re left scrambling for a response that doesn’t give away that you haven’t exactly been invited.

“Oh, I, um…”

“She’s going to check her calendar and see,” Eddie offers, and you exhale at his quick save. Turns his attention to you. “His birthday is February 6, but that’s a Thursday, so we’re gonna do his party that Saturday at the bowling alley. Just me, Wayne, and a couple of the kids from school. And you, if you can make it.” Shit, is he rambling? Was that too much information? You spend every day with kids; would you really want to spend a Saturday afternoon at a birthday party surrounded by them?

He’s not overanalyzing for long before you speak. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Do grown-ups get to bowl, too?” You perch your chin on your hand, blinking to emphasize your curiosity. Bowling has never been your forte, but you imagine you’ll fare quite well compared to a group of five-year-olds. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Eddie laughs kindly, letting his arm cross the table so that the back of his fingers can graze your forearm, “that’s a given.”

The three of you head out to your cars—not before you and Eddie argue over who’s going to pay the bill, with you eventually winning the battle. He takes Harris’s right hand as you step off of the sidewalk and into the parking lot, and Harris instinctively slips his left into yours. He walks between you and his dad naturally, as though it’s always been this way. Like you all were a little family that made regular outings for pancakes and chicken fingers.

“Har, go get in your car seat, and I’ll be there in a sec to buckle you in,” Eddie says gently, opening the door for him. 

Harris climbs in clumsily, calling back, “Bye, Ms. Sweetheart!” His farewell ends with a yawn, suggesting that there will be a nap in the near future. 

Eddie closes the door, shoving his hands in his pockets bashfully. It’s one of his nervous quirks, you’ve noticed, and you’re immediately inclined to reassure him about whatever’s on his mind. “Hey, um, could I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I talked to the people at the school,” he starts, kicking at the gravel under his feet, “and Harris has that evaluation thing on Monday. Would you…”

You don’t even let him finish his request before confirming, “I’ll be there.”

Eddie’s body instantly relaxes, relief flooding through him at your words. “You’re amazing.” He looks around to make sure Harris can’t see before kissing you, lips quickly melding together. He has to pull back before he wants to, before either of you want to, to avoid getting caught. He tastes like coffee and syrup with a hint of berries, though the kiss is too brief to pick up on anything else. A stirring inside you informs you that he could kiss you for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough. “See you, Sweetheart.”

Mondays are characteristically exhausting; kids are home for two days on the weekends and return behaving like they’ve never seen a classroom before. Today is no exception, but the coffee Eddie left on your desk this morning certainly helps. He’d tried to sneak in, but you’d caught him, and it took everything in your power not to plant a kiss on his cheek right then and there. Scrawled on the side of the to-go cup in his messy handwriting were three simple words that made your heart soar: For my Sweetheart. 

What you didn’t know was that Eddie had thought about what he’d wanted to write for the entire car ride. Nothing too clingy, but nothing too distant. Not sappy but not brusque. Even the word my between “for” and “Sweetheart” was daunting; how would you feel about being his? 

By the time the afternoon rolls around, neither of you are too concerned with romantic gestures. You and Eddie sit in the hard plastic chairs outside the school psychiatrist’s office. He’s already answered all of her questions, so now it’s simply a matter of waiting for the observation to end. 

You can hear Harris giggling from the other side of the door, and you look over to smile at Eddie, but he either didn’t hear it or his nerves have built up an impenetrable barrier. 

He exhales slowly, puffing out his cheeks and leaning his head back against the brick wall. It’s a sigh of defeat, not relief, and you lean over and squeeze his hand without a second thought. The edges of his skull ring dig into your palm, but you couldn’t care less. Your only priority is keeping him calm. 

“Hey,” you murmur, crossing one leg over the other. He looks through you, not at you, and you  brush a stray lock of hair from his face to ground him. Once he’s settled, you continue talking. “Everything will be alright. Either he doesn’t have a disability, or we’ll be one step closer to getting him the accommodations he needs.”

Eddie nods. “I know. I just…” He pauses for a beat, struggling to find words that accurately convey his myriad emotions. Besides anxiety about the unknown path that lays before him and Harris, guilt gnaws at him for his past misgivings. The careless sex with Harris’s mom, the stupid fucking tour that he just had to go on while she was pregnant, the blissful ignorance that he could have his cake and eat it, too. “I hate that he can’t learn, like, normally. Like the other kids.”

Your instinct is to tell him that Harris doesn’t need to be like the other kids, that he’s perfectly and unequivocally himself, but that’s not what Eddie needs right now. 

“It’s tough,” you agree, “but Harris is a great kid with big dreams, and he’s not going to let anything stop him. All we have to do is support him along the way.”

Eddie ponders that for a moment, slightly amused at the accuracy of your statement, given what you don’t know. Beyond reading and math–both of which he’s shown improvements in since you’ve begun your tutoring sessions–Harris refuses to give up on his quest to get you and Eddie together. The hand-holding drawing was only the tip of the iceberg; Wayne’s since reported that the boy has asked multiple times about when “Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart will fall in love.” And, of course, he hasn’t stopped talking about your Saturday afternoon diner date, constantly badgering Eddie about whether or not you two were married yet.

Eddie rests his head on your shoulder, curly tendrils tickling your collarbones. All you want is to let him stay there as long as he needs, even if your legs fall asleep, but the nagging thoughts of passersby’s perceptions triumph over your desires. 

“Eddie, I…” you trail off, gently lifting your shoulder so he’ll get the hint without you having to say it aloud. Self-consciousness pinkens his cheeks as he sits up, adjusting his posture and mumbling a soft “sorry” under his breath.

“S’fine,” you rush to reassure him, praying that he doesn’t misconstrue your professionalism with shame of being seen with him. You would comfort any of your students’ parents in times of distress, but let’s face it–you would never snuggle up to Jason Carver or Carol Perkins. “Just don’t wanna be accused of canoodling on the job,” 

He lifts his eyebrows. “Canoodling?”

“It’s a word!”

“You’re the one with the fancy college degree, so I guess I gotta believe you.” 

You giggle softly, brushing his Reeboks with your flats. “Seriously, it’s gonna be okay. Whatever happens, I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. The words replay like an enchanting melody. You’ve got him. You’ve got him, and you’ll have him as long as he vows to hold on.

“Mr. Munson?” 

Eddie’s attention snaps to Ms. Cassie, the school psychologist. Harris darts from her office, a giant smile on his face as he leaps into his father’s arms. “Daddy, we played games! It was lotsa fun!”

“That’s great, Har Bear,” Eddie murmurs into Harris’s scalp. He looks up at Ms. Cassie expectantly. “How did everything go?” Is my son okay? Is there something wrong with him? Is it my fault? He doesn’t dare pose those questions.

The psychologist offers a smile, lacing her fingers together in front of her stomach. “Like Harris said, we had a great time. I’d like to speak with you briefly…” her gaze flits over to the hallway. “Is there someone who could keep an eye on Harris while we talk?”

Eddie’s heart sinks; privately, perhaps naively, he’d been wishing that there wouldn’t be anything else to discuss. Maybe a chipper, everything’s fine; he’ll catch up to the other kids on his own! But nothing so serious that it required an additional meeting.

“My TA can,” you pipe up, remembering that Will had stayed back to prepare an art project for tomorrow morning. Eddie puts Harris down, watching as you take his chubby hand in yours and make your way to your classroom. 

Ms. Cassie starts to wave Eddie into his office, but he shakes his head. “Wanna wait for her to get back,” he tells her, and she nods understandingly. As soon as you return, the two of you take a seat in front of her desk. Paperwork is stacked neatly in piles across the top of it, and framed diplomas line the walls. Board games sit on the shelves, and Eddie can’t help but wonder which ones Harris played this afternoon.

“I want to start off by saying that Harris is one of the sweetest kids I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with,” Ms. Cassie says. Her tone is even and patient, which makes Eddie more anxious. He wants to jump up and demand that she spill the bad news already, but he bites his thumbnail to calm his nerves. You notice the gesture immediately and inconspicuously grab the hand closest to yours, hiding your display of affection below the desk. Eddie grips so tightly that you have to actively suppress a grimace.

“The evaluation indicates that Harris meets the requirements to be classified as a ‘preschooler with a disability,’” she continues, “and as a result, he qualifies for special education services–”

“What the hell does that mean?” You wince at the vitriol in Eddie’s voice, and you rub your thumb over the back of his hand. It brings him back down enough for him to clear his throat and apologize, but you can sense that he’s still on-edge.

“That’s alright, Mr. Munson. You’re not the first parent to react that way, and I’m positive you won’t be the last.” She taps a small pile of papers on her desk to even them out before handing them to him. “The classification means that he will get an Individualized Education Program–IEP for short–that will help us target goals for Harris to make progress alongside his peers.”

Ms. Cassie drones on about short-term and long-term objectives, but Eddie can’t focus on what she’s saying. Preschooler with a disability. My son has a disability because I left, because I wasn’t there, because I trusted someone I shouldn’t have. It’s all my fault. My fault my fault my fault–

“Eddie,” you whisper, but it’s no use. You watch as his ribcage expands and contracts faster with manic breaths, on the verge of hyperventilation. You shoot the psychologist an apologetic glance and pull Eddie from the office before he can launch into a full-blown panic attack. His body is like a ragdoll, and he trails behind you mechanically; if you let go of his hand, he’d probably stop dead in his tracks.

“Baby,” you say, bringing him to an empty classroom. The nickname rolls off your tongue easily despite technically being in your place of work. “Baby, it’s just you and me right now. You’re okay–”

“Harris–disability–my fault.” His words are low and gravelly, but you hear them without having to strain. They’re similar to the sentiments he’d uttered that day at parent-teacher conferences when he’d unexpectedly showed up at your door.

There’s no use trying to convince him otherwise, not when he’s like this, so you try a different approach. “I can talk to Ms. Cassie about rescheduling the meeting. We don’t have to figure everything out right away.” He nods, just a miniscule bob of his head, but it tells you that he’s cognizant enough to comprehend what you’re telling him. “In the meantime, why don’t you go see Harris? I bet he’s drawing something for you.”

That gets a smile out of him. “Y-Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t move; instead, he brings you closer to him and holds you to his chest so close that you can hear his heart beating. His body shakes, but it’s not until you feel a warm teardrop fall from his face onto the top of your head that you realize he’s crying. You wrap your arms around his lithe waist until you feel him begin to steady, staggered breaths becoming fuller. 

Wiping the tear trails from his cheeks carefully, you press a tiny kiss to his nose. “Wash your face and go to my classroom. I’ll meet you there.”

“‘Kay,” he manages, wishing he had the means to express his gratitude for your words, your presence, you. 

When he gets to your classroom, Harris is furiously scribbling on a piece of construction paper with his new markers. Eddie smiles, leaning against the door until Will spots him.

“Harris, your dad’s here!” he announces, and Harris looks up excitedly.

“Daddy!” he exclaims. “I’m almost done with my picture, hold on!” He grabs a blue marker and uncaps it, marking the paper with concentrated dots. He replaces the cover and slides the marker back into the yellow-and-green box. 

He’s always so diligent with his art supplies, Eddie notes.

“Ta-da!” Harris spins the drawing so his dad can see. There’s three people–you, Eddie, and Harris. You’re standing around a large purple rectangle with a line coming out of each corner, which Eddie recognizes as a table. There’s a circle representing the plate of chicken fingers in front of Drawing Harris, and a circle between Drawing You and Drawing Eddie with blueberry pancakes. Just like on Halloween, he’s drawn a smile on everyone’s faces.

“He’s really good,” Will says, and Eddie looks at him in amusement. “Seriously, he is. He’s got great spatial awareness when he draws, which most kids don’t develop until later. And he’s got an eye for detail,” he adds, pointing to the blue dots on the pancakes. “Looks like you’ve got a little artist.”

An artist. Not a failure, not incapable, but an artist. A boy who could grow up and inspire the world with his creativity.

“I love it,” Eddie says finally, reaching out to take the drawing. He frowns when Harris snatches it back.

“This one is for Ms. Sweetheart,” he explains exasperatedly, as though this is something he’s had to repeat multiple times. “We already have one at home, Daddy. Renember?” His pout quickly becomes a grin when he sees you enter the room. “Ms. Sweetheart, I drawed this for you!”

“I love it!” You inadvertently echo Eddie’s statement as you hold the paper to your heart. “This is gonna go on the kitchen wall so you can see it when you come over for tutoring.” You turn to Eddie, eyes warm with understanding. “How are you feeling?”

“I dunno,” he answers honestly. “Kinda sad, kinda mad, kinda relieved that there’s an answer.” He scratches at the stubble on his cheeks. “‘M just…really glad I don’t have to go through it alone.”

“I’m always here for you, Eds. You and Harris.”

Eddie’s curls bob up and down as he slowly nods. “Speaking of which, um, you said something about tutoring him? Are you feeling up to it? I can bring pizza—o-or not, if it makes you sad. We could do Chinese or something—”

“Eddie?”

“Ya?”

You look down at the drawing of your little chosen family at Benny’s. It’s certainly different from the times you went with Grandma, but you’re filled with the same feeling of belonging that you’d felt then.

“Extra olives for me, please.”

--

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[lemon-ty]

While I have no time to draw I found that thing from twitter and I don't think it would be bad if I post at least anything till I'll be free to draw?? and let's say that's just one another post before I'll finally add some of It in my blog

I'll just answer all in one post let's go, guys

(Movies & mini series & book mixed)

1. Favorite female character

I don't think there're a lot of 'em lol. But

Patricia Uris

That's right, not Beverly. Patti has one(!) chapter and somehow I fell in love with her character while reading it. She's got her own story before Stan and she's got a very very very beautiful relationships with him.

(I'm so in love with Uris family I mean whyyyy can't I just have some Stan with his pretty wife and a CHILD THANK U VERY MUCH)

2. Favorite male character

RICHIE

I'm just in love with him he's perfect next

3. Worst character

Bill?

OK, let's talk about it. I was kinda neutral to everyone in the Loser club except Richie for a year or more. Then while being in fandom I fell in love with these guys like with everyone of 'em concluding Bill. But when I decided to actually read a book... why is he so stupid and careless and fjligvdsvfuklugxseggh

Moron.

I really tried not to be "of course u let kid go alone what will happen right??" but this.fucking.weather.this.fucking.fact.that.Georgie.told.him.he.was.about.to.go.to.the.closed.area.u.know.closed.bc.it.was.dangerous.to.go.there like BOY, u killed ur brother when he stepped out of the house HAVE U EVEN LOOKED TO THE WINDOW???? Was it ur plan how to get rid of him bc he was clever and better than u and everyone loved him more? Bc if it was, well, congratulations! it worked not like u expected but still worked!

I'm bullying Bill Denbro in my house I wish for the alternative version with George as a main character instead of him-

4. Favorite scene

Richie and Beverly dancing together

I LOVE their friendship they're like BEST BROTP EVER

I love all their interactions and I find it SO ADORABLE they danced together I always think about it ...about 'em

5. Favorite member of the Loser club

Well, again? Fine. RICHIE

6. Original or remake?

I'd say book? But if we're talking only about films when of course remake

I saw mini series some time ago and that was cute and had a lot from the book (and abult Eddie-) but it was so naive and looked kinda stupid (sorry everyone but I'm the new auditory and I can't get that seriously especially after new films) while new films... Weeelll...

Let's be honest, I saw It 2017 only bc of James McAvoy in the second chapter and I found it boring. And then the second part I found more like a comedy than horror. I didn't like films that time but I liked characters (Richie). Some weeks ago I rewathed both It 2017 and It 2019 and second one is still too long and a comedy but first I found interesting

So remake is great at least on the second time watching and that's enough

7. Reddie?

Reddie is always the answer it's never a question cuz the answer is YES all the answers YES

8. Ben of Bill?

Oh that's a question for me and my hate to Bill!

Ben OF COURSE

Not only bc I hate Bill, Ben is awesome himself. In films he was more leader for the Losers that Bill and Mike like together?? And have u seen that he did fo Henry in the book? Damn boy u're way too cool slow down

9. Best ship

Look question 7

10. Worst ship

OK it took a lot time to find the one bc I don't think there's any ship I would actually hate or smth but if thiiink Bill × Beverly

First, bc Bill?? Seriously?? Go and find someone better, my girl

Second, bc Ben and Bev have much more chemistry (god, Richie and Bev have more chemistry and this tells the person who would kill for reddie)

11. Book or movie?

Book

(and if u say the book is too big I swear I-)

12. Tim or Bill as Pennywise

Why do u need to ask such difficult questions?? I mean, I love every version of Pennywise no matter if it's book or 1990 or 2017-2019 they all are great in their own ways

So both Tim and Bill have an extreme charisma, different but equal in power

I like Tim's Penny bc he's simple and warm I mean c'mon I would definetly hug him or anything and die happy, I mean, he just got ur trust??? And I like how bad effects make him seams not like an awful monster who will eat u but like a friendly mischief (listen me up: he makes sink dirty right after Bev cleaned it up like phhhhhhhhahaha really u're a moron u know). Yeah, that's not that Pennywise is meant to be but that's adorable

And I love Bill's version bc he does look scary (in a some way, of course). Yeah yeah new effects are doing their work and the costume is less friendly than Tim's but the most important is Bill's acting. His mimic and expressions are perfect he fits this role way too good. And, damn, he's so funny like... Yeah, I'd spend my last minutes with him he's great, that would be the most hilarious death I could ever get

So... can I just say both??

13. Funniest character

Do u really see this as a question??

Richie. The funniest guy ever. I would go to his stand-up. I would buy his merch. I would buy hi- AHEMAHEM

Seriously, I found him irritating watching 1st movie first time but after 2d started I've changed my mind he's a diamond that makes films better like he's the only reason I didn't fall asleep while watching 2d part

14. Worst character fear

OK, let's say we don't count the book here. Bc, u know, the fears in the book was, well, like actually kid's fears. Like someone just saw a horror film great now they've got a deep emotional trauma that's like kids work.

So saying about movies...

Stan

Does anyone really got what's wrong with that painting?? I mean???? Just an art what's wrong with u, Stan, do u like... hate art???

I do not get it, plz, if u do, just explain me bc I have no fucking idea why should it be a normal fear that's stupid

15. Favorite actor from the film

James McAvoy

Like I said I went to this fandom ONLY bc of him

16. Favorite adult character

Do u think they grew up and anything changed? Hell no!

Richie

Forever Richie

17. Worst encounter with Pennywise

None? I really can't name u anything bc they all are great at leeeeast bc of Pennywise taking part in it. The scene with him can NOT be worst

(but still-

Eddie's such a stupid brave boy like WHY does he always need to go to scary deadly places I mean are u going to die of what????)

(in the book he just decided that was a great idea to actually try to get into the Neibolt house like ????????????????? U FUCKING BRAVE IDIO-)

18. Worst jump scare

I don't pay attention to any jump scares sorry

None

But I can name my fav! Mrs. Kersh. Not bc she's scary but SO FUNNY OMG

(and in mini series she IS scary, yeah...)

19. Favorite quote

Everything Richie says

20. Least favorite ship

Stanbro

This ship is really great: there're reasons why it's existing and the ship dynamic is good but... I hhhaaaateeee Biiilllllly. And that's the whole problem, yes. Blame me but I can't love otp if I don't like one of the characters

21. Favorite fan account

Don't follow any

22. Favorite Pennywise quote

Is he saying anything??

Alright-alright I know how it looks. "U say u love Penny but don't remember any of the words he's saying". Yes! All I remember is that everything he says is cool but, yeah, sorry, I have nothing in my head

23. Best friendship

RICHIE TOZIER

&

BEVERLY MARSH

24. Richie or Bill?

Who the fuck will choose Bill?????? Richie's the best

I mean, u want me to choose between my fav one and the one I hate most? really?

25. Eddie or Ben?

Not lying to u that's a difficult question. I like both of 'em so I needed a list with +s and -s of each one

Eddie:

+ Jack Dilan Grayser's face

+ the thing with hand

+ u can joke about his mom

+ s.h.o.r.t.s

+ he's mean I like ppl like that (I'm person like that)

+ can kill u with the knife just stuck in his cheek

+ healer

+ brave as hell

- he's SO loud

- non human speed of talking

- most of the time he's a wimp, let's be honest

- DEAD

- has scary tendencies of amputation everything

- not Riche's husband somehow

- mindlessly brave as hell

- FIVE

- PARAGRAPHS

- OF

- OBSCURE

- MEDICINE

- STUFF

in his very first chapter

Ben:

+ an architect (i concider all of 'em like gods)

+ punctual. If he said he'll be in ur bar on Saturday when he'll be doesn't matter he's in London right now

+ I tell u he's a hidden leader

+ can drink and stay sober

+ HE

+ PUNCHED

+ HENRY'S

+ BALLS

- wrote a haiku I don't like haiku

- minuses are ended

So Ben has less +s but less -s if u compare to his +s. So, sorry, Eds, but Ben

26. Funniest scene

Every with Richie

27. Least favorite male characters

I can't just say Bill again, right? Or I caaan???

Bill

28. Most underrated character

MIKE

I see ppl love every character even the once that has really small time (STAN) but I haven't seen so much ppl loving Mike. Everyone kinda... forgot about him?? What an irony

29. Favorite edit

Every with Richie

30. Is fack real?

No

Plz don't ship real ppl

[elusive---ivory]

The Woman In Velvet pt 9

Holy shit????? 9 parts??? Holy moly???? This is insane!!! I can't believe people are actually interested lmao. Well, the masterlist will be up soon enough, as for now, enjoy.

PAIRING: Arthur Fleck x Oc

WARNING: NSFW (near the end.)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Taglist:

@princessgeekface @mijachula @gloomybih @memory-mortis @radio-hoo-ha @moonstruck-witchy (if you'd like to be apart of my Taglist. Just message me, and I'll tag you)

Sandy looked at herself in the mirror. It was almost 6. She looked over to her dress on the bed. It was a long black velvet gown that her mother used to wear. She picked it up from off the bed and posed with it in the full length mirror. As she slipped it on, she saw how comfortable it fit on her. Sandy laughed, twirling around in the dress.

She carefully applied her makeup. Her eyelashes touched her thick framed glasses as she pushed them back onto her face. Her lips were ruby red from her lipstick. Sandy smiled widely in the mirror.

Arthur watched as she got ready. He told previously that she could. God, did she look marvelous. Arthur watched her move.

Sandy caught Arthur staring at her through the doorway of the bedroom.

She smirked. "See something you like?"

Arthur blushed, looking away. "Uhh, yeah. Just you."

Sandy giggled at his boyish behavior. She looked over at the clock.

"Oh shit. It's 6. I'm heading out, Artie." Sandy kissed Arthur on his cheek.

He grabbed ahold of her hand. "Just be safe, please."

Sandy smiled, sweetly kissing his lips. "I will dear."

Arthur watched as she went out the door. His heart beated loudly in his chest. Arthur turned off the TV, heading out of his apartment.

Sandy's heels clicked on the pavement as she walked towards Dee's car.

"Sandy!" Dee yelled, excitedly. Her smile was wide with her dimples spreading ear to ear.

Dee pulled Sandy into a tight hug.

Sandy smiled, giving in to the hug. "Hey, Dee. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm just fantastic. Have you met my boyfriend, Doug?" Dee said, as a very tall man in a black suit emerged out of the car.

Sandy shook her head. "No, I don't think I have."

The man named 'Doug' grinned. "I don't think I have neither. Very nice to meet you, Sammy."

Sandy huffed. "It's Sandy."

"Oh, right, sorry." Doug falsely apologized.

Sandy rolled her eyes and got in the car.

The three of them rode down to Wayne Hall. Protesters in clown masks and makeup were yelling and screaming from left and right. Sandy looked around at the chaos, smiling a little bit.

"Look at this, Dee. Our city's in peril. I hope the asshole that caused this goes to hell." Doug rambled, behind the wheel.

Sandy turned her head towards Doug. "Funny you say that, Doug. I'm pretty sure the people outside would definitely love to hear you opinion on the matter." She remarked.

Doug glared at Sandy through the rear view window.

"We're here." Dee said, trying to cut the tension.

The three of them got out of the car. Sandy was still infatuated with the protest behind her. It gave her hope. She noticed someone sneaking off out of the crowd. It looked like a familiar yellow jacket.

"Hey, Sandy. You coming?" Dee called, pulling Sandy out of her thoughts.

Sandy backed up, blinking a little bit. "Uhh, yeah." She turned around and followed Dee into the bar.

It was a very elegant looking bar. The red lighting matched the velvet booths in the bar. Sandy looked around. There was a lot of older gentleman alongside very scandalous women. Sandy sat down at the booth.

"I'll take a dry martini, please." Dee told the waiter.

"Whiskey on the rocks." Doug ordered, taking out an expensive looking cigar.

Sandy raised her eyebrow at Doug. "I'll take a cherry cola."

"Really, Sandy? Come on. Live a little. Here I'll order you a chardonnay." Dee said, signaling towards the waiter.

"No, Dee. I'm cutting back on drinking. I already have a bad smoking habit. I don't need to add alcohol to that." Sandy said, leaning back in the booth.

"Alright, whatever you say." Dee rolled her eyes, teasing.

Sandy crossed her arms. Despite just getting here, Sandy already felt tired of babysitting them.

After a while, lots of the protesters swarmed inside the bar.

Doug, after having a total of five drinks, drunkenly stood up, yelling in their faces.

"Listen here, you fucking scum, ya got ten seconds to get out of my bar." Doug slurred, standing dangerously close to a protester's face.

"You got a problem, buddy?" The protester said, pushing Doug back.

"Yeah, you are." Doug pushed back.

Dee drunkenly stood up as well. "Yeah, you fucking tell him, babe."

Sandy watched in horror, dragging Dee back to her seat.

"Oh, yeah, well watch this tough guy." The protester took out a gun, shooting Doug in the face.

Dee and Sandy screamed, ducking under the table. Soon, a bar fight broke out between the protesters and the old gentleman at the bar.

Dee was hyperventilating. "What the fuck?!"

Sandy looked at Dee, putting her hands on her shoulders. "Calm down, Dee. We have to get out of her." Sandy calmly stated.

"What about Doug?" Dee exclaimed.

"He'll be fine. Just hand me the keys." Sandy grabbed on Dee's hand and ran outside the bar.

Sandy grabbed the keys from Dee and revved up the car. More protesters were yelling out on the streets. Sandy pulled out from the parking space, denting a few cars in the process, before driving off.

Sandy sighed in relief as they got away from the scene. She pulled over to her apartment building. She looked over to Dee, who was quivering in the front seat. Sandy, then, looked down under the seat for a pack of cigarettes. When she found some, Sandy stuck one in her mouth, getting lipstick all over it, and pressing the car's cigarette lighter.

Dee looked terrified at Sandy. "How can you be so calm in a situation like this? My boyfriend just got murdered."

Sandy looked over at Dee, again. She grabbed the cigarette lighter, lighting her cigarette, then blowing smoke out her nose.

"How long did you know your boyfriend?" Sandy asked, deflecting Dee's question.

"Well, a few weeks." Dee said, crossing her arms. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Sandy laughed. "A few weeks, huh? Was it before or after he paid you?"

Dee turned her head away from Sandy. "It was after. Ok? God, why are you being such a mega bitch?" Dee threw her hands in the air dramatically.

Sandy continued to laugh. She inhaled another drag from the cigarette. Slowly, her laughter subsided. "My heels broken. I should probably go home." Sandy said, blankly.

Dee eyed at Sandy's behavior. "Sandy, are you ok?"

Sandy smiled at Dee. "To be honest, I thought this night was gonna be a bust, but as it turns out, I feel fantastic."

She handed the keys to Dee as she got out of the car.

"I'm sorry about your boyfriend. I'm sure you can find another one that pays more." Sandy yelled, walking into her building.

Dee glared at Sandy as she walked away.

Sandy limped up to Arthur's apartment. She knocked on the door. To her surprise, the door was unlocked.

"Arthur?" She called.

Sandy looked around in the bed, then slowly moving to the kitchen. She noticed shelves and food were all over the floor. Gently, she opened the refrigerator door.

Arthur cradled himself, not wanting to face Sandy.

"Hey, Artie." Sandy spoke softly. "Why don't you come on out?"

Arthur gave no response.

"Please, Art?" Sandy put her hands on his knee.

Arthur looked over at Sandy, and grabbed ahold of her shoulders, sobbing into her.

Sandy petted his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

"Let me draw you a bath, dear." Sandy kissed Arthur's cheek, before getting off of the kitchen floor.

"Why are you so nice to me?" Arthur asked, pitifully. "All you've been is sweet and kind. I just don't get it."

Sandy lifted Arthur from the ground. "I love you, Arthur. Is that what you don't understand?" Sandy hugged Arthur's fragile body. He melted into the hug, feeling Sandy's warmth.

"I just don't understand how an angel like you could love a guy like me." Arthur mumbled, slumping into her neck.

Sandy smiled, rubbing Arthur's exposed back. "Come on, dear. I've got a warm bath waiting for you."

Arthur peeled off his remaining clothes, slipped into the bathtub. Sandy was still in the bathroom, looking for some type of body wash. As she turned around, she saw Arthur's nude body in the tub. Sandy blushed, slightly, kneeling down to his level.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Sandy asked, maintaining eye contact.

"Yeah, could you stay?" Arthur's eyes pierced into Sandy.

She was almost about to decline, but something in her said yes. She nodded, staying in her position on the floor.

"So, how was the rally?" Sandy asked, nervously. She gulped, trying not to lead her mind down south.

Arthur looked at Sandy. "It was fine." He mumbled. Arthur noticed blood on Sandy's lip. He lifted her chin, touching the busted lip.

Sandy hissed in pain. "Ah, fuck."

Arthur's eyes went wide, letting go of her chin. "What happened?" Arthur asked, concerned.

"It's nothing, dear." Sandy answered, reassuringly.

Arthur frowned at her response, but didn't want to push it further.

"I did like the way you lifted my chin." Sandy smirked. She ran her fingers across his jawline, lifting Arthur's chin up. "Just like that." Sandy whispered seductively.

Arthur melted at the touch, holding onto Sandy's hand.

"It almost makes me want to join you in the tub." Sandy giggled, splashing Arthur a little.

Arthur nodded his head. "I'd like that." He whispered.

Sandy blushed, standing up to unbutton her dress. After unbuttoning it, she placed it on the towel rack behind her. She unclasped her bra, which fell to the floor. Sandy peeled off any other clothes left remaining on her body, and stepped in the tub with Arthur.

Arthur admired Sandy, as she laid on the opposite side of the tub. Arthur smiled at her. Sandy turned away, blushing.

Arthur leaned over and pulled Sandy closer towards him. Before Sandy could speak, she was already straddling Arthur's thin waist under her thick thighs.

She cleared her throat. Sandy felt Arthur's arms sneak around her waist, keeping her upright.

Arthur sat up and rested his chin on Sandy's shoulder. She relaxed into his touch.

"Sandy?" Arthur whispered.

"Yeah?" Sandy whispered back.

"Can I touch you?" Arthur asked, griping onto Sandy's waist.

Her eyes widened. "Touch me where?" Sandy questioned, putting her hands on Arthur's chest.

"Everywhere." Arthur said, softly putting his lips on her neck. Sandy gasped, nodding at his request.

Water spilled out the bathtub as Sandy grinded onto Arthur. He tilted his head back into the bathtub and moaned. He kissed Sandy's neck, feeling himself inside her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, biting her bruised lip.

"Artie." She whispered, moaning.

Arthur went in deeper, keeping a grip on her thighs. Sandy tugged on his hair, warranting a moan from Arthur.

Arthur came before Sandy, yet staying inside her. Once Sandy came to her close, she fell on top of Arthur, laying on her chest.

[duketheman]

January 13, 2012

“The Covingtons”

Packing a couple bags for my Son & myself, I notice it's coming on 11:30am. Our flight’s schedule for 2:00pm & I've still got to pick Mary up. I get done, dress JR & load the bags in the Beamer: JR asks: ~Daddy, where we going?~

I explain: ~Well Son, Miss Covington & I are going to be married! He curiously asks: ~You mean Miss Covington's going to be my Mommy? I ask him :~Is that okay with you Son?~ He replies: ~Sure Daddy, I love Miss Covington! But where we going? I explain: ~We're going to visit Miss Covington's Mommy & Daddy!~ He replies: ~Oh, okay Daddy!~ We drive to Mary's house & arrive at 12:15pm. Mary's waiting at the door. She's wearing a yellow Sundress, Red Ruby earrings & Black w/White Strap High heels. I kiss her & say: ~We've not much time!~ I take her bag, & off to the Airport we are! By the time we get to the Airport, through security & check our bags; it's time to board the plane. 

We depart on time & land at Raleigh-Durham International on schedule! We pick our bags up & hale a Cab!He asks: ~Where too Sir?~ I give him the location! He replies: ~Very well Sir!~ It's about a 40 minute drive to her Parents house. We arrive at about 5:00pm. I pay the Cabbie tip him & grab our bags. Her parents are standing on the steps, looking very happy to see their daughter: 

Mary introduces us: ~Dad, Mom, this is Harold!~ I shake her Father's hand (William Covington) & say: ~Pleased to meet you Sir.~He replies: ~Nice to meet you to young man!~ Next I extend my hand to her Mother (Laura Covington) & say: ~Pleased to meet you Mam!~But instead of shaking my hand, she opens her arms & hugs me & says: ~So happy to have you hear young man!~ Mary adds: ~And this is John Ross!~Her Mother observes: ~What a charming child. He's so cute. How you doing Son?~ He replies: ~Fine Mam, are you Miss Covington's Mommy?~ She replies: ~Well yes I am! Polite young man, isn't he?~ Her asks ~You like Ice cream young man?~ ~Yes Sir!~ JR replies!Her Father says: ~Then come on, I have a whole freezer full just for you!~ JR Reacts: ~Really?~Yeaaaa!~ We go inside the house & have a seat in the Living room. 

Her Father's a Professor at The University of North Carolina & her Mother's a Nurse at Duke Raleigh Hospital. The wall is covered with pictures of Mary. Many of her awards & Trophies line the shelves.Her parents are proud of her! I would be too, she was & is quite impressive!

7:00pm

Mrs Covington invites us into the Dining room. She's prepared a meal of Pot Roast, potatoes, Corn on the Cob, Fresh Baked bread, Sweet Tea & Apple pie topped with Vanilla Ice cream for dessert! A Traditional Southern meal & delicious if I say so myself!

After we eat, her Father & I retire to the Living room, Mary & her Mother clears the table & proceed to do dishes. JR. goes into the Den to watch TV. I take this time & plead my case! ~Sir, I would like to to ask you for your Daughter's hand in Marriage? I love her beyond my own life, & want nothing more than to take care of her from this time forward! I promise you to hold, to have, to honor & keep her unto death do we part!~ He looks at me, stands up, lights a pipe and answers: ~Harold, how can I ever say no? Yes, you have my blessings. Just please take care of my baby? She's an only child & all we've got!~ I say: ~Yes Sir, you have my word! Thank you Sir!~ Mary & her Mother walk into the room, look at us & they both simultaneously ask: What? William says: ~Laura, this young man has just asked for our daughter's hand in Marriage & I've given him my blessings~ Mary's Mother's eyes open wide, she raises her eyebrows & says: ~I think that's just wonderful! Congratulations both of you, I'm so happy for you!~ Her Father pulls out a bottle of Brandy he's been saving for a special occasion & says: ~Let's have a warm one & celebrate?~ It's 10:00pm & I ask: Has anyone seen JR.? Mary answers: ~Yes Harry, he fell asleep on the couch in the Den; so I took him upstairs & put him in my bed. He can sleep with me tonight!~

(Mary has already given me fair warning, that we'll have to stay in separate rooms.) I reply: ~Very well Darling, if he bothers you, l'll take him in with me! My Son is quite taken with Mary I announce, he loves her very much; as do I!~ We go to bed at Midnight. I look in on JR. & kiss Mary Goodnight & say: ~Darling, I love you beyond my own life, sleep well my Darling!~

Mary replies: ~I love you so much Harry. You sleep good too!~ I go to the Guest room, say a prayer of thanks & go to sleep.

6:00am

Saturday morning I'm up early. I smell coffee! My nose guides me to the kitchen to find Mary's Mother making Breakfast:

She says:- ~Good morning Harold, sleep well?~

I reply: ~Yes Mam & Good morning to you, that smells delicious!~ She says: ~Sit down & have some coffee! Sausage & eggs are on the stove, Biscuits are in the oven! Breakfast will be done shortly!~ She pours me a cup of coffee & asks: Cream, or Sugar? No Mam, thanks, I like it black I reply! She notes: ~Just like my Bill!~ Mary & J.R. comes into the kitchen: Mary says: ~Good morning Mom, Good morning Harry, I'm starved!~ JR ads: ~Me too, I'm starving!~ -Laura asks: ~John Ross, how do you like your eggs young Man? JR ~Crambold please?~ he replies! I correct him: Scram-bold! J R ~SsssCrambold he says! Mary says: ~Let him be, Harry, I use to have that problem myself~ She smiles at me & winks: I reply: ~Come to think of it, so did I~ Laura mentions: ~Mr Covington had to go to the University today, he'll be back later~ Mary & I spend the day touring Raleigh & all her favorite places. We stop & eat lunch in the local Cafe & after, head back & arrive at her parents house, by 5:00pm.

We wash up for dinner: Laura announces: ~Dinner's on the table, get it while it's hot.~

We come downstairs & into the Dining room. JR is already sitting at the table. The rest of us take a seat. Mary’s Mother asks: ~Harry, What time are you kids leaving tomorrow?~ I reply ~Our flight leaves at 9:30am Mam. William requests ~Let me drive you to the Airport you two?~ Mary smiles & winks.~Thank you Sir, I'd be most obliged I reply.~

Sunday 6:00am

We wake up early & eat Breakfast. Say our Goodbyes. Mary says: ~Mom, I love you so much. It was really nice to see the old Homestead again. Laura replies: ~Mary, Harry, hopefully we'll see you again real soon. At the Wedding!~ She winks at us. William announces: ~Okay you two, let's Boogie, don't want you to miss your flight!~ I reply: ~Yes Sir! Mary kisses her Mother Goodbye. I extend my hand to her & she come here and show me some love Harry?~ She Opens her arms & motions me to her: I say: ~Yes Mam!~ We hug & she kisses me on the cheek. With tears in her eyes she say: ~I love you both!~ We load up in her Father's LTD & he drives us to the Airport:

Mary says: ~Bye Daddy, gonna miss you!~ He hugs his Daughter, clears his throat & says: Take care of my Little girl Young Man!~ Yes Sir, I promise I reply! We shake hands & exchange goodbyes.

8:00am 

“Homeward Bound”

We go through security, check the bags & board the plane by 9:00am. We take off on time & land at Miami International on schedule. I pick up my Beamer, load our bags in the trunk. I kiss Mary & ask: ~You ready to get home Darling?~

Mary replies: ~Yes Harry I am! I love Raligh but, glad to be back in Florida!~ JR is exhausted. He's falling asleep on his feet: Mary whispers: ~Come on my Little man, time to go home!~ I can see how much she loves that boy & JR loves her. She picks him up, kisses his forehead & lays him down securely in the back seat. I run around to the passenger side, open the door for her: Mary mentions: ~Harry, you're such a Gentleman!~ She kisses me. I close the door & run around to the Driver's side. We head home! We arrive back at Mary's about 1:40pm. I grab her bags, take them to her door & return for! I open the & passenger door for her & she asks: ~Coming in?~ I kiss and say no, I have to get JR Home Darling! I'll call Nancy to sit with him & come back~

Mary says ~Sounds good! Harry, I love you! See you in a while?~ I say: ~I'll be back soon!~ We embrace, kiss & I take my Son home...

I couldn't help but to think of how decent & kind her parents were. How much they love her! I'll talk to Mary tonight about setting the date! Neither of our parents are getting younger & besides, I want JR to know her parents. After all; They will become his Grandparents too! I'm thinking about bringing Julia's parents up to see him! It's been a while! I don't want him to lose touch with her parents either.They're part of him.They're also a part of my family. A connection to Julia...

I call Nancy on the way home & have her meet us at the house. We arrive & she's sitting on the steps: She greets me: ~Hi Mr Newport, how was your trip~ I reply: ~ Hi Nancy, trip was good, thanks. I brought you something~ Nancy says: ~Really Mr Newport? You didn't have to do that!~ I remark: ~There's a lot of things I don't have to do, but want to do! This is one of them! Thought you might like this~ Nancy observes: ~Almond Cocoa & Chai Spice, Thank you Mr Newport. Sounds delicious. Thank you so much for thinking of me!~ I reply: ~Don't mention it. It's my pleasure, I hope you enjoy it. JR's tired & will probably sleep a while. Thanks for coming on short notice! Nancy replies: ~That's okay Mr Newport. I love watching him!

I say: ~Thanks again, got to go, I'll be back later!

I'm back at Mary's at 6:00pm, knock & she opens the door & pulls me inside! Wraps her arms around my neck & kisses me like we've been apart for eternity! She guides me once again to the bedroom. & tells me she wants me now!!!! Arousing me right off! We make love over & over & over again: I say:

~That was nice!~ Mary agrees: ~Mmmmmh I know!~ I mention: ~Darling, I want to set a date. I love you & want to start our life together~ Mary replies: ~Me too Harry! Harry, I want to get married on my 25th Birthday! June 17, 2012. ~ I observe: ~What a wonderful idea Darling! Gives us time to make arrangements, & send out notices. I'll call my parents tomorrow with the date!~ We embrace, kiss & Make Love one more time.......:

I Note: ~It's late Darling. I need to go home so Nancy can leave. Mary says: ~I understand Harry, & I should probably get things together myself for School tomorrow!~ I dress, look at her & say: ~Darling, don't ever forget how much I love & need you? Mary replies: ~Never Harry, I will always love you! (She kisses me) Now get home & get some rest, I love you with all I am!~ I say: ~Goodnight my love, I'll call you~ I leave & drive straight home! JR is sound asleep in Nancy's arms on the couch. Nancy's asleep as well! I gently wake her up, take him from her arms & upstairs to his room. I pay Nancy & say: ~Nancy, I want you to know how much I appreciate you! You are a Princess, thank you so much!, By the way, you're invited to the wedding!~ (She smiles loudly) & replies: She says: ~Whaaaaat? Mr Newport, I'm so happy for you, do I know her?~

I reply: ~Oh yes, I'm sure you do! She's JR's Teacher!~ She Asks: ~Miss Covington? Wow! She's a very lucky woman Mr Covington, & she's very pretty. John Ross talks about her all the time........quoting JR.: I love Miss Covington..... Mr Newport, I hope you'll be very happy, you deserve it~ I reply: Thank you Nancy, Oh, by the way, Mary would like you to be the Maid of Honor?~ She answers:~Please let her know, I'd be honored! (As she's walking out the door) EEEEEW, I'm just so happy!~ I take a shower, brush my teeth & go to bed thinking about how our lives change suddenly. I pray to God & ask him to keep my child & Mary safe! I fall asleep with Mary on my mind!

Monday, January 16

“Julia’s Father”

I wake to the sound of someone knocking on my door! I open the door, a young man dressed in a messenger's uniform is standing there:

-Messenger- ~Western Union Sir, you have an urgent Telegram!~ I take the Telegram & tip the messenger..... I read it, (Bad News)!!!!!! Julia's Father is in the Hospital & not expected to survive! I right away call my Mother-in-law.

Rachael- ~Hello~ -Me- ~It's Harry Mom~ -Rachael answers: ~'O Honey, James has Cancer! There's nothing more they can do, it's out of control! He hasn't much time left Harry!~ I explain: ~Mom, John Ross & I will fly down in the morning, he'll want to see his Grandfather!~ Rachael replies: ~Okay Harry, I'll be expecting you, bye now! Kiss John Ross for me?~ I say: Okay Mom, we love you! Bye now!~

I call Mary & let her know what's going on, & that I'll be taking JR. to see his Grandfather in the morning! Mary answers: ~Yes, I think that's the right thing to do! When shall you return?~

I explain: ~We'll be back on Wednesday! I love you Mary!~

Mary observes~ I know Harry, I love you more!~ Next I call my parents! I let them know we set a date, then gave them the bad news! (They've become rather close) I told her we'll be flying to Shreveport in the morning, so JR can see his Grandfather! (Mother tells me she also got a Telegram) and says: ~Be safe Son & please give them our love? Kiss John Ross for us?

I reply: I will Mother. I love you & tell Father, I love him too Bye!~

Wednesday, January 17

I wake JR. up at 4:30am & get him dressed. The bags are already packed. Our flight departs at 7:30am. We leave the house at 5:00am, stop at McDonald's and buy JR. a Pancake meal & milk! We continue on to the Airport. I park the Beamer, we go through security & check the bags. We board the plane at 7:00am & take off on time! We land at Dallas Love Field on schedule. We pick up our bags & rent a car for the 189 mile trip to Shreveport. We stop about half way for lunch. We arrive at my in-laws home in Shreveport 4:00pm. We unload our bags & head for MD Anderson Cancer Center, where Reverend Marcantel’s admitted. We arrive at 4:45pm & directly to his room. JR is not sure what's going on, he sees his Grandfather hooked up to machines and breathing apparatuses! JR asks: ~What's wrong with my Papaw Daddy?~ I explain: ~He's sick Son!~ Mom's asleep in a chair next to his bed. We walk over to his bed, his eyes are open & he knows we're here: I say: ~Hello Dad, how ya doing?~ It takes all he has to smile, but he's happy we're here! I lift JR up so he can kiss his Grandfather! JR greets him: ~Hi Papaw, I miss you. I love you Papaw!~ He kisses his forehead, & I put him down! He's pouting, sad about his Papaw! My Mother-in-law opens her eyes & says: ~Harold, good to see you Son, & there you are my John Ross!~ She picks him up, kisses his cheek ,& hugs him like there's no tomorrow! She puts him down & says: ~Oh Harry, what will I do without him. I've loved him forever! We've been together since I was 16. Oh God, I love him so!~ I observe: ~I know Mom, & so does Dad!, I didn't even know he was sick~ She explains:

~It was about six months after our little girl was buried that he received his diagnoses! You know how he is Harry, he didn't want to be a burden on anybody! I think he stopped fighting it. He missed her so! They did all they could, but the Cancer was just too progressive until there were no more options. He's got maybe a couple days or less Harry!~ I say: I'm so sorry Mom, is there anything I can do?~ She states: ~Harry, you're here & John Ross is here. That's enough. I keep praying he'll be okay, but I know God is calling him home. He says he's ready to touch the face of God & to be with his little girl again!~ My Father-in-law passes on Wednesday night at 8:13pm. We've made funeral arrangements & he'll be buried on Saturday afternoon. The viewing will be that morning beginning at 8:00am at the River Park Church in Shreveport, Heavenly Gate Funeral Home Officiating. I call Mary to tell her we'll be back next Sunday. We'll be attending JR's Grandfather's funeral. We stay in Shreveport for the rest of the week..

Saturday, January 20

7:00am

The Funeral

My parents fly in to attend the Funeral. My Mother & Father are in Mourning for their friend!

My Father has rented a Mercedes Benz for the duration! We load up in the Escalade I rented & drive to the Church. I escort my Mother-in-law into the Church. The Reverend James Marcantel was the Pastor here & this was his Congregation!. The Church was packed (standing room only!) The viewing of the deceased has started. My Mother-in-law was first in the line for viewing, followed by myself, JR, & my parents. I lifted JR. to see & kiss his Papaw goodbye. He kisses him on the forehead, rubs his eyes & asks him to say hi to Mommy! The viewing lasts three hours & the Service is beginning,! The Reverend Ronald Toussaint is the attending Minister. We sing Amazing Grace & pray. The Lady's Choir sings favorite hymns of my Father-in-law. We didn't so much as to mourn him as we did to Celebrate his life! After the Services, the Casket is loaded in the Limousine. My Mother-in-law will ride in the second Limo to the Cemetery with Myself & JR following third & my parents next in the line of many vehicles! After the Funeral we go back to the Church, where the Ladies auxiliary has prepared food for all! We attend & Congregate, as we thank everyone for attending. We get back to the house at 8:30pm. We will be returning home tomorrow morning. Our flight leaves at 11:00am. My parents have already left! The food we ate at Church filled us up. We go to bed & get some rest before leaving early in the morning.

Sunday, January 21

“Home again”

We wake at 3:00am & my Mother-in-law has fixed us a light Breakfast & packed a lunch for us: She says: ~Good morning you two! I didn't want you to leave hungry!~ I reply: ~Thank you Mom, we'll be leaving in two hours. Is there anything you need before we leave?~ She answers: ~No Dear, just make sure you two get home safe! I couldn't bare to lose you too!~

I reply: ~Just don't you worry about us Mom? We'll be alright! Just take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything, I mean anything!~ She replies: ~I will Dear, Thank you.~ We leave at about 5:00am & arrived at the Airport at 8:30am. I turn in the rental, we go through security, check our bags & sit in the waiting room for an hour & a half. We Board the plane at 11:00am. We leave on time & land at Miami International on schedule. I pick up the Beamer! We're on our way home by 4:00pm, I call Mary & say: ~Darling, I've missed you so much, so did JR! We're home & going to rest up! I love you Darling!~ Mary replies: ~Harry, I've missed you more than I'm able to say! I love you too! How was your trip? I answer: ~Long but we're happy to be home. Different circumstances, JR would've had a good time!~ Mary replies: ~Harry, get some rest & I'll be there just after 6:00pm. I'm cooking dinner for you & John Ross!~ We hang up & I bathe JR.! It's been a long day & the little guy's exhausted. I take a shower & get ready to see Mary. God I missed her! 6:00pm a knock on my door. It's Mary & she's got groceries in her arms - I greet her & say: ~Hello My Darling, let me take those!~ I carry the two sacks of groceries to & place them on the Counter! She stands there for a moment to catch her breath Mary says: ~Harry, you just sit down there at the table. I 'm going to make Dinner.~ I reply: ~Sounds good Darling, I'm famished!~ Mary takes the groceries out of the sacks & begins to prepare She's cooking Southern Fried Chicken, Mashed Potatoes w/Country Gravy & Okra: I observe: ~Sure smells good Darling.~ Mary explains: ~My Mama didn't raise me not to use my talents. This is her recipe! I sure hope you like Fried Chicken?~ I reply: ~I love anything you cook Darling!~ She's finished cooking. She sets the table & calls JR for dinner & announces: ~John Ross, Dinner's on!~ JR. answers: ~Yes Mam!~ She serves JR says: ~Now you eat everything John Ross & I have something special for you after dinner!~ JR asks: ~Really Miss Covington, I'm going to eat the whole thing.... I promise! I love you Miss Covington!~ She turns to me & asks: ~Harry, you want me to serve you?~ She smiles & winks! I Note: ~No, I think I can probably handle it! This really smells good!~ -She states: ~Harry I have something extra special for you!~ We sit down & eat. Mary can cook, really cook! She with pride asks: ~Anyone for Blueberry pie?~ She pulls a pie out of a box & explains: ~I want you to know I made this fresh this morning! I know how much John Ross like pie.~ JR ~Sure do Miss Covington! Mmmmh mmmh~ She says: ~Enjoy it John Ross!~ I ask ~How'd you know I like Blueberry pie?~ She says: ~Your Mother told me that was the way to your heart!~ I say: ~Darling, usually, but you've already got my heart!~ She smiles loudly & says: ~Harry, I Love you!~ & winks at me again.... After dinner & dessert I help her clear the table & do dishes. She bathes JR, puts him to bed & hears him say his prayers. I hear them talking something over! JR asks: ~Miss Covington, can I call you Mommy? Please?~ She replies: ~I'd like that John Ross!~ JR says: ~I love you Mommy!~ She replies: ~I like the sound of that John Ross, now you go to sleep! I love you very much!~ These words touch my heart! I've come to realize just how much those two love each other! I'm Damn lucky!

She comes out of the room with tears in her eyes, but smiling & says: ~Harry, God know I love that child!~ I Reply: ~So do I My Darling, So Do I~ Now: About that something Special?~ She Smiles, grabs my hand & leads me into my room & we make love for the rest of the night!

Duke Sherman

Continued

[mccutcheon121]

Please more smart Soap!!! The man is a demolitions expert. Yes he can still be silly and fun but he’s not stupid. I imagine he’s calculating everything in his head. Formulas, angles, wind and projections when snipering people. Don’t get me started on the chemistry side of demo and bombs

Soap is extremely good at math, but his methods for getting his answers confuse Ghost to no end. He goes through added steps to equations Ghost would never even consider, he somehow factors and simplifies at the same time. Despite how complicated Soap's process seems to be though, Ghost has yet to see him be wrong.

Ghost asks Soap about his process once between missions. They're relaxing on base and Soap is going over his formulas for his demolitions, looking for any improvements he could make. Ghost gets another glance at his nearly illegible equations and forgets to hold his tounge before it's too late.

"How in the bloody hell do you make sense of all of that?" He grumbles out, sounding more confused than anything.

Soap glances over to where Ghost is peeking at his notes, and he offers a genuine smile.

"Ah dunno'. Just kinda clump together the things that make most sense." Soap answers. He points to a specific part of his notes as he speeks, but it does little to make them any more clear for Ghost.

Ghost hums and considers the answer for a second.

"Well it's impressive, Johnny. Lord knows I couldn't do all that."

He hardly thinks the praise is anything special, but then he's looking back to Soap's face and he's just beaming at Ghost, and damn if he can't fight off his own smile.