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#mickey crisp
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Artist's Drive in Death Valley, 1989
Mickey Crisp
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indecisivegloom · 4 months
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slack-wise · 1 year
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Mickey Crisp. Furnace Creek, Calif.
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ch3shire-rabbit · 1 year
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my favorite image sequence <3
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citizenscreen · 11 months
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Mickey Rooney, Elizabeth Taylor and Donald Crisp at Lux Radio Theatre to reprise their film roles for the radio adaptation of NATIONAL VELVET in 1947
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letterboxd-loggd · 1 month
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National Velvet (1944) Clarence Brown
March 18th 2024
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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 month
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Urban Cowboy - Jake Seresin x Reader
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pairing: Jake Seresin x f! reader
warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v, mildly mean!dom Jake, teasing, jealous Jake
word count: 3.2k
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The sounds of some 80s pop song echoed throughout the Hard Deck, a cheap colourful strobe light flashed around the room, its rainbow coloured beams striking random bargoers as they began to dance along to whatever was playing. It was new idea your aunt had come up with - doing theme nights at the bar once a month as a way to freshen things up and breathe new life into the military bar scene. 
Since you moved here four months ago, you’d gotten familiar with the regulars - there was Bradley Bradshaw, a man far older than he looked, with a penchant for comandeering the piano if the bar needed livening up, Natasha Trace, who had a fiery personality and often kept the other guys in their place, especially when the beers were flowing and they started flirting with unsuspecting patrons, Robert Floyd, the shy backseater who was always polite, tipped well and seemed to be the permanent designated driver on nights out, Reuben Fitch, who stood about a foot taller than you, and always had a witty comeback on hand, just in case, Mickey Garcia, who was sweet, but could talk anyone’s ear off about Star Trek, and Javy Machado, resident score keeper and pool table champion. 
Leading the group, was your Aunt Penny’s boyfriend, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. He often would come in, finding a table at the back of the room for his squad before abandoning them to spend the evening at the bar, chatting your aunt up and offering up any excuse to come behind the bar and sneak a hand to her hip or steal a squeeze of her rear. It was sweet the way your aunt and Pete were loved up, like a couple of teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 
This afternoon, Pete came in at four o’clock sharp, just as he promised to help set up. As he hung a couple of decorations you and your aunt had managed to find online, he turned to you and smiled, watching as you prepped the theme night’s cocktail menu.
“I forgot to tell you, another one of my guys is going to be here tonight. He’s been off training at a different base for the last few months, just landed in this morning. You’ll like him. He’s a firecracker.”
“Isn’t that your way of saying he’s a cocky asshole?”
“I wouldn’t say asshole. He’s just very…confident. I think you’ll like him though.”
“Are you talking about Jake?” Penny piped up as she looked at Pete, watching as he climbed up the step ladder to hang another decoration from the ceiling.
“Yeah, don’t you think they’d hit it off?”
“I think she might hit him.”
“What? No way. Jake’s not that bad.”
Penny scoffed and shook her head, laughing. Holding her hands up in surrender, she walked away, retreating back to the bar to begin making sure all the key ingredients to your drink menu were where they needed to be. You continued to stuff the evening’s special menus into their plastic protective sleeves, shaking your head at Pete’s attempts to try and set you up with someone from his squad. It wasn’t the first time, you’d been on a date with Bradley once before, but found the age gap was too great between the two of you, with Bradley in complete agreement that you were much better suited as friends than lovers, and on a date with Reuben, who, despite efforts between the two of you, there was no chemistry shared there. 
As five o’clock approached, you hurried into the back stockroom to change into your themed outfit for the night, pulling your hair out of the velcro rollers that Penny had helped you wrap your hair up into, creating the perfect 80s voluminous curl that would make even Christie Brinkley jealous. Your tight fitting Daisy Duke style shorts accentuated your curves, hugging your thighs and hips in all the right places, your crisp white button down shirt tied just under your bra, showing off your tanned, soft midsection. A pair of mid-sized silver hoop earrings hung from your earlobes to complete the look. Your aunt’s stash of Aqua-Net hairspray was all you needed to finish it off, stepping out the back door to shake your curls out and spray them with enough hairspray to ensure they wouldn’t budge for the night. 
You reentered the bar to find Pete’s friends piling in, the other regular patrons all trickling in and getting comfortable as they came through, turning the bar into a sea of cheesy fake mustaches and 80s style Hawaiian shirts, brightly coloured polos and coordinating Bermuda shorts, wigs and legwarmers. The evening was quickly livening up, and you got to work behind the bar with your aunt, pulling pints and mixing drinks, firing off orders left right and center as the bar filled with partygoers. 
An hour into the night, Bradley approached the bar, his aviator sunglasses perched atop his chocolate coloured curls, his loud, brightly coloured Hawaiian print shirt buttoned just enough to allow a few sparing curls of chest hair to peek out from the top. He leaned against the bar, smiling at you, his mustache neatly combed to closer resemble a style from the 80s. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was trying to emulate Tom Selleck. You’d seen pictures of Bradley’s dad and Pete from back in the 80s, and recognized the shirt anywhere. It was clear Bradley was dressed identically to his father, and you had to admire the dedication he had to the theme. 
“What can I get you, Bradshaw?”
“Hi dollface, I’ll take a Budweiser. And a chance to take you for a spin later?”
“We’ve done this before, Bradley,” you laughed as you cracked the top off the beer bottle and slid it across the counter to him. Bradley shook his head as he sipped the frothy liquid, grinning as he set the bottle down on the counter.
“I didn’t mean you. I’m practicing. I can’t be dressed like this and not use some kind of weird 80s shit to impress a girl, right? I’m just…using you for practice. Did it work?”
“Bradley, why don’t you, I don’t know, just, be yourself?” 
“Because tonight I’m not myself. I’m some single 39 year old in the 80s trying to get a date, apparently.”
“Well then, gag me with a spoon, that was gnarly. Try a different line. One that doesn’t begin with “dollface”?”
“Got it, thanks!”
You watched as Bradley sauntered away to go try his luck with a pretty blonde over by the jukebox. You smirked to yourself as you heard Bradley start singing along to Madonna, carrying the tune with an impressive baritone that you weren’t expecting. You knew he could sing, but singing Madonna was a whole new side to him. Turning your back for a moment, you began fixing a drink for yourself, mixing together the ingredients for a Shirley Temple. You looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered blonde man approach the bar counter, his hair slicked back, and a blonde mustache that made poor Bradley’s look unimpressive rested on his upper lip. The most stunning pair of bright green eyes looked at you, and a set of perfectly straight, whitened teeth fresh out of a Colgate commercial flashed a smile at you.
“Hi Darlin’, I’ll take whatever’s on tap.”
“Sure thing,” You nodded, trying hard not to audibly gulp at the adonis of a man standing in front of you. 
“Are you new ‘round here?” he drawled, “I’d remember a pretty face like yours.”
“Uh, within the last four months, yeah.” you nodded as you finished pulling a pint of draught for him, the frothy head of the beer perfectly resting in the glass. 
“Oh! That’ll explain it. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, at your service, m’am.” He winked, and you felt yourself melt a little at the sight of this human embodiment of a Ken doll flirting with you. 
“You’re Jake?”
“Depends who’s askin’, Honey.” His accent was thick and heavy, something straight out of those reruns of The Andy Griffiths Show that your mom made you watch when you were a child.
“I’m Penny’s niece,” you nodded, giving him your name and laughing softly as your cheeks blushed, “I moved down here to help her out with things around here while I try to figure some life things out.”
“I see,” he smirked, sipping his beer, the foam brushing against his mustache as he set the glass down. “And does that list of things you’re figuring out include finding a strong, charming, handsome Southern boy?”
“It might, do you know any?” You quipped, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your own drink, pretending to feign disinterest in the handsome stranger before you.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“That so, hun? Who? Do I know him?”
“Not yet, but I think he sure would like to know you, Darlin’.”
You shook your head, your curls bouncing as you started to laugh, unable to control yourself. Jake was as bold as he was handsome, and you were suddenly realizing what Pete was referring to when he said that Jake was confident. He practically exuded a cocksure confidence from every pore in his body. And while that would normally repulse you and send you heading for the hills, with Jake, it felt different. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, his magnetic charms and graces pulling you in, and your inhibitions wearing down. However, you also knew how to deal with men like this - he was in need of an ego check, and you were just the person for the job. 
“Is that right? Well, you tell your little Southern-fried wannabe cowboy of a friend that if he’s interested, he’s going to have to stick around the bar all night. I promised Aunt Penny I’d help her make sure this night went smoothly, and I don’t need a knockoff Dukes of Hazzard cast member distracting me.” 
“Wannabe cowboy?” Jake gasped in feigned offence, clutching his chest dramatically as he slipped into an even thicker accent than earlier, “Now Darlin’, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re breakin’ my heart over here. One thing I ain’t is a wannabe cowboy. You know, I used to ride in rodeos as a kid? Was one of the best there was for under 15 year olds, ‘til I decided to join the Navy instead.”
“Oh, so you’re like, a real cowboy then,” you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm. 
“S’pose you could say that. Only one real way to find out, ain’t there?”
“Take you to a farm and watch you wrangle cattle on horseback?” you retorted sarcastically.
“You’re funny, I like that.”
“I bet you do.” 
Jake leaned in across the bar, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at you, his bright green eyes fixated on your lips as you spoke. His long eyelashes fluttered at you as he eyed you up, practically undressing you with his imagination. You grinned as you gestured to the sign behind you, reading that if you disrespect a lady, you owe everyone a round. 
“Watch it, Lieutenant. If you’re not careful, I’ll go ring that bell and you’ll learn a very expensive lesson.”
“Oh, Darlin’, I can guarantee, I ain’t gonna learn anything from it. I’m just dumb enough to do it again. Can’t help myself around a pretty girl like yourself.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you laughed at his relentless attempt. You knew the only reason he persisted was because you were teasing him, but at the same time, you didn’t mind the attention he was giving you. He wasn’t as tall as Bradley, or as broad shouldered, but he was built like a linebacker, with a solid frame and the accent alone was enough to drive you crazy.
It was almost 11 when Jake stopped you again, this time, outside of the stockroom when you’d disappeared back there for more maraschino cherries and pineapple juice. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, causing his pastel-coloured polo shirt to bulge around his biceps. His lips curled up in that annoyingly perfect smile once again as he stood in your path.
“Hey, Honey, need a hand with that?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” you shrugged it off, shaking your head as you smirked at him, “You often follow girls into storage rooms?”
“Only the ones worth following.”
“Wow, Lieutenant, with a response like that, it’s a wonder you don’t have a trail of broken hearts following you around.”
“What is your issue, anyway? You got a thing against blondes? Pilots?”
“Please,” you smirked, shaking your head, “I went on a date with Rooster. He’s a pilot.”
“Is it ‘cause I’m from Texas?”
“No, it’s because you’re probably the most arrogant prick I’ve ever had the displeasure of coming across, actually. God, it’s like you think all you have to do is flash that stupid handsome smile and I’ll throw myself at you.”
Jake’s face fell slightly as he raised an eyebrow at you. You could tell he wasn’t used to having a girl put him in his place like this, but his crestfallen gaze was quickly replaced by that shit-eating grin he seemed to never go without sporting. 
“Honey, you’re real pretty when you get mean like that.”
“You’re impossible,” you sighed in exasperation.
“But you love it, don’t you?” 
Jake closed the gap between the two of you as he spoke, taking a couple steps closer to you. You bit your lip as you hesitated, thinking about the consequences that might follow if you acted on your desires. 
Fuck it. 
Your hands gripped the fabric of his polo shirt, pulling him down to your height as you crashed your lips into his passionately. You kissed a slow, hot trail up to his ear, a breathy moan escaping your lips as he put his hands on your hips to bring you in as close as possible, his body heat radiating on to you. 
“You gonna show me just how good you are, Cowboy?”
“Yes, m’am. I reckon I could show you a better time than any other man in here.”
Jake’s hand slipped down your curves, reaching around to cup your ass cheeks as he hoisted you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around your waist. You quickly discarded the cherries and juice that were in your hands, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Jake’s lips worked their way along your neck, wet, fervent kisses that made your body squirm with pleasure, your arousal growing and burning in your stomach with each second. 
“Back door?” He murmured against your neck, his hands keeping a firm hold of your ass.
“Two steps behind me, to the left,” you panted, nodding your head as he sucked on your skin. 
It was unseasonably warm for May, the humidity hanging in the air as you left the air conditioned building. Jake pushed you up against the wall, using it as leverage as he quickly reached down to undo your shorts and wiggled them out of the way. He ran two of his thick fingers along the outside of your lace underwear, stroking the dampened fabric as he smirked to himself.
“Someone’s eager, aren’t ya, Darlin’?”
“Just shut up and fuck me, ok?”
“Now, that any way to ask for it?”
A wicked grin appeared on his face as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, stroking at your clit with a feather light touch, just enough to make you whine for more. 
“Jake, I swear to fuck, if you don’t take me right now.”
“Shhh, Sugar, don’t want anyone to hear, do ya? Unless you get off on getting caught,” He purred as he coaxed his fingertips inside of your dripping entrance, pumping them into you with precision.
You tossed your head backwards as Jake thrusted his fingers further into you, each movement harder and faster than before. The determined look in his eye alone was almost enough to send you over the edge. This man was hell-bent on making you orgasm, and he was on the right track to get you there within a matter of seconds.
“Fuck, s-so close, Jake,” you keened, your fingers gripping his thick blonde hair as he brought you to your climax.
“That’s it, Sugar. Look at you, you’re a mess and I ain’t even started on you yet.”
“J-Jake, please,” you whimpered, coming undone as he fucked his fingers into you at a breakneck pace.
“Speak up, sweetheart, can’t hear ya.”
Your head started to spin as he pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he slammed his hips forwards, shoving his thick cock inside of you, causing you to cry out in ecstasy at the sudden fullness. Trying to be quiet, you secretly thanked your lucky stars that the sounds of Your Love by The Outfield blared throughout the club. Just as the chorus picked up, Jake rocked his hips forwards again, fucking himself into you with enough force to make you feel as though he might blow your back out right then and there.
“That’s it, Sugar, takin’ me so well,” Jake smirked, “What was that you said about bein’ a wannabe cowboy? Bet those other boys can’t fuck you like this, now can they?”
You were practically rendered speechless by Jake’s precise, rhythmic thrusts into your cunt, his masculine grunting and teasing proving enough to throw you back over the edge once again. Your legs began to shake and shudder while he bucked his hips up into you, his eyes full of lust and hunger as he brought you to your second orgasm of the night. Your walls clenched around him tightly, eliciting a low, pornographic moan out of Jake. 
Raking your fingers through his hair, tugging on it as you threw your head back, you screamed out his name, louder than you intended. You lost your ability to hold yourself together as Jake’s thrusts became sloppier, his own orgasm following close behind yours. 
“Fuck, am I good?” He groaned, his eyes pleading for permission.
“On the pill, you’re good,” you panted, nodding quickly as Jake let himself go inside of you, your name falling from his lips like a sacred prayer as he repeated it over and over, praising you.
“Now, how ‘bout letting a strong, handsome Southern boy take you out on a date so he don’t feel so bad about fucking you until you can’t walk a couple hours after meetin’ ya?” He grinned as he readjusted himself and pulled his clothes back up. 
“I think I can fit you into my schedule, on one condition.”
“Mhmm? What’s that?”
“Next time, you come wearing a cowboy hat.”
“Deal, Sugar, I’ll even let you wear it.” 
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ohtobeleah · 10 months
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Arrival // Robert Floyd
Summary: Your early morning pregnancy cravings turn into more then what you bargained for when you go into labour.
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: Pregnancy. Birth. Robert Floyd x F!reader. Mickey Garcia x Platonic! F!reader. Inaccurate depiction of birth. Fluff!
Author Note: Hi! Happy Saturday folks! Yes, I’m painfully aware this isn’t what you wanted this weekend. However, it’s what you’re getting. So sit back, relax, and enjoy for once something fluffy as fuck.
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It wasn’t all that often that you got a good night's rest this late into your pregnancy. Every night was the same as the last, up and down, side to side, kick here and a pain there. You woke with a hiss as  the feeling of what felt like the left side of the rib-cage breaking in half. Your hand imminently came up to caress your stomach, thirty seven weeks along, with no sign of labour in sight. 
“Shh—go back to sleep, little one.” You whined as you slowly circled your hand over your swollen belly. As the kicking persisted the realisation set in that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep anytime soon. “Without fail hey?” It was almost a nightly ritual at this point. You’d toss and turn for a few short hours before you’d accept your fate. 
As you sat up carefully and ever so slowly so as to not wake your boyfriend, you checked the time on your phone. You were, at the very least— unimpressed at the time staring back at you, 2:30am. A slight moan left your mouth as you rolled over to see the love of your life, Robert Floyd, sleeping soundly next to you. A soft but all consuming smile crept across your face at the sight of him. He was just unapologetically Bob. His soft nature and caring personality was what drew you to him in the first place, and now, in the early hours of the morning, you fell just a little more in love with him with every soft snore that escaped past his slightly parted lips. The love you had for your partner Bob radiated through you like the strongest drug of all. It was so powerful and so consuming that your little bundle of joy that was due earth side any day now felt that love and got a little too excited. A hard kick planted itself into your side. 
“Yeah bubba, I know.” You tried to contain the small gasp of pain that threatened to echo out into the quiet of the night as you rubbed your stomach in a sweet soothing motion. “Daddy’s still sleeping, I wish I was too.” You swore if you could see your baby girl right now, she’d be poking her tiny tongue out at you. Every bit the cheeky girl her dad used to be when he was a little boy. 
“Ow!” You winced, your little bundle of joy really enjoyed using you as her personal punching bag. “Bub, please stop yeah? It’s not funny anymore, well it never was to begin with, but yeah just cut it out okay?” You spoke to your expected daughter a lot, you’d read somewhere that while in the womb expected children can hear voices and recognise important people like mum and dad. a”let’s go get something to eat before daddy wakes up.” You spoke softly to yourself under your breath as you waddled your way into the kitchen. 
At the beginning of your pregnancy, Bob had begun  stockpiling the fridge and pantry with weird and wonderful food so you would never go without. You bit your lip as you looked through the plentiful pantry, your eyes fell on the fresh container of peanut butter. Placing it on the counter you opened the fridge, your mouth instantly salivated at the sight of the pickle jar. Specifically dill pickles, specifically the kind Bob's grandma made. There was nothing better than a crisp home-brined pickle and your little girl couldn't agree more as you used the small, strategically placed stepping stool to help yourself up onto the kitchen bench. It wasn’t long at all before you had the lid of the peanut butter off and were dipping the pickles straight into the peanut butter. 
Your little girl kicking at your stomach as if to say she was happy with your late-night or rather early morning decision.
“I know, good right?” You giggled to yourself as you dipped another pickle into the peanut butter. It wasn’t long at all before you heard heavy footsteps pattering down the hall from your bedroom. “Opp, it’s the fed's baby girl.” You teased loud enough so that Bob could hear. “Hide the evidence.” A gentle hand landed on your shoulder, massaging the tense muscle softly as you leaned into your boyfriend’s touch. 
“What unholy thing are you snacking on this early in the morning baby?” You heard the early morning grumble in a sleepy Robert Floyd’s voice as he wiped his hand over his eyes. 
“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it, besides—“ you took another bite of the peanut covered pickle. “Your daughter was the one craving it, not me.” Everything you had eaten in the past month had been at the decision of your unborn child. She was picky and very weird. The amount of watermelon you had consumed had to have been a world record and you couldn’t stand the smell of any kind of cooked meat right now. It was later in your pregnancy that your cravings and food aversions really started to hit and hit hard. 
Bob moved himself between your legs as they dangled over the edge of the counter-top to rest his hands on your hips. 
“Why do you insist on making your mama eat weird food combinations baby? And not to mention she doesn’t like to be woken up at all hours of the morning. She needs her beauty sleep angel, well not that she isn’t beautiful, but you get the point.” Bob babbled as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your belly. She kicked in response to hearing her daddy's voice. “You know—” Bob smirked as he came back up to leave a kiss on your lips, trailing tender kissing down the left side of your neck. “You look awfully sexy while you’re pregnant, not that you weren’t sexy before, but you have this glow about you that I can't resist.” Bob continued his assault on your neck. 
A soft moan left your mouth as your lips parted at the feeling of Bob’s warm lips against your neck. He ran his hands up your oversized shirt which was coincidentally, his, and placed them atop your baby bump. 
“I can’t wait to meet our beautiful girl, she’s going to be just as perfect as you, I know it.” 
“Mmm, I’m not perfect Bob.” You tried to argue as you bit into the next pickle. Bob chuckled at the sight of you obnoxiously chewing, purposefully exaggerating your facial expressions. It didn’t take him long at all to cave in to the curiosity.
“Okay let me try—“ Bob gestured to the pickle in your hand. “C’mon, give me a bite.” You dipped it into the peanut butter once more and placed it in his awaiting mouth. Bob's face contorted into something of disgust as you chuckled softly. He ran to the sink to spit the pickle out. “Oh god, that’s definitely a flavour combination I’m not keen to try again.” Spitting into the sink, Bob washed his mouth out with the running tap. 
You couldn’t control your laughter, tears had begun to form in your eyes. “Oh? you think that's funny, huh? We’ll see who’s laughing in a second.” Bob teased as he sauntered back over to you and started his assault on your body. His fingers moved all over your body sending shivers and Goosebumps all over. 
“Robert! Stop it, stop B-Bob!” You laughed out loud through gasps and giggles as he continued tickling you. In the early hours of the morning Bob let out a boisterous laugh. He loved you. Oh so much. 
“Who's laughing now huh?” 
“Bob, I can’t breathe s-stop p-please—.” As you pleaded with your boyfriend, you felt as if you wet yourself, however, unlike all the other times you have due to your baby girl pressing inconveniently on your bladder, this time felt more intense. The feeling kept going until you saw water dripping down the bench.
“Bob! oh—oh my god, I think, I think my water just broke.” Bob's eyes imminently widened as he stared at you in fear. Like the last nine months hadn’t been building up to this very moment. 
“What? You aren’t due for another two weeks?” Worry was prominent in his tone. You could tell he was starting to panic, the thought of him having a life dependent on him starting to set in. You knew you needed to calm Bob before things progressed into something more severe, so you reached out to grab his face with both your hands and rubbed the pads of your thumbs against his cheeks. 
“Bob homey, listen to me.” Those ocean blue eyes were truly home to you. “My water just broke— so you need to take me to the hospital yeah? Fanboy and I put an emergency hospital bag together a few weeks ago in case I went into labor while we were out so it's in the back of the Jeep.” 
“Oh, okay, i-i'll go wake h-him up.” Bob and Fanbky had lived together off base since they first came back to North Island a few years ago. They’d been friends for as long as you’d known Bob for. “Holy shit—I can’t believe this is act-actually happening.” He stuttered as he lent into your hands, the feeling of you caressing his check comforted him. Of course, you’d go into labor and STILL have to take care of Bob, you were his rock, his entire world, you’d always be there to take care of the love of your life so nothing was different about this situation. 
Bob helped you down off the kitchen countertop as a sharp pain radiated throughout your lower abdomen. It took your breath away for a moment. You circled your hand over your stomach and took a deep breath in. 
“Ohh— little girl you just had to come tonight didn’t you?”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
“Mickey? could you maybe drive a little be faster, please?” The contractions had come quickly. Bob was sitting in the back with you, stressed as all hell, rubbing small circles against your lower back as you tried breathing through the pain as best you could. All Mickey did was smile at you through the rear-view mirror. 
“Y/n, even when you’re in labour you're still so nice.” Mickey grinned— he was so excited to meet his best friend's first child. His daughter. 
“How you feeling bub?” What kind of a stupid question that was, you thought to yourself. 
“Umm not good, I just want to get to the ho-hospital.” Tears now traveled down your face. “I’m scared baby, I don’t think I can’t do this.” Your contraction eased, you were thankful for the moment to breathe as you settled back against the backseat. 
“Baby, Y/n, listen to me yeah?” Bob held your face softly between his slightly calloused hands, the pads of his thumbs collecting your tears. “You are the strongest person I know, you carried our baby girl for nine months, nine months baby! You can do this and I'll be with you through the whole thing.”
“yeah! so will I!” Mickey tried to lighten the mood, he thought if he could make you laugh you’d feel a little better before yet another contraction washed over you. “Y/n please try not to have a baby on my new seats?” Fanboy joked as he tried to keep you smiling. You knew Mickey was joking the moment he said it. He was such a good support system. 
You let out such a loud moan that you were convinced the car next to you at the red light could hear you. 
“I’ll try not to Mick b-but I’m n-not going to p-promise you anythi-OH-MY, GOD! Bob, help me.” As you wailed you grabbed onto Bob's forearm and squeezed through your pain. It felt like a million more hours had passed you by before you were finally arriving at the emergency room waiting bay at the Miramar Base Hospital. 
“Baby, we’re here okay, as soon as Mickey pulls up i'll help you out.” Bob kissed your temple, sweaty and hot, as you leaned into him already exhausted from the last hour and a half since your water first broke. As Bob hopped out to help you, Mickey ran up to a nurse going inside the hospital. Probably coming back from taking a breath of fresh air. 
“Excuse me miss? My best friend's fiancée is in labour, she needs help.” You didn’t even register at first what he called you. You were just Bob's girlfriend, not his fiancée. You couldn’t help but scoff at yourself for thinking too much into what Fanboy had called you while you were literally about to give birth. 
“What’s so funny? Bob asked. “You okay babe?” Again, no. No you weren’t okay. But Bob was just doing his best to be the support you needed right now. 
“Nothing hun, just excited to meet our little girl who’s currently trying to tear me to shreds right now.” It wasn’t an exaggeration—you felt as if you were about to be split in two. 
But it was about to be so worth it. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~*
Three hours later: 
“AAHHHH, fucking hell can’t she come any faster!” you were in so much pain at this point. You were currently bent over the hospital bed leaning your head on the bars and moving your hips around in a circular motion. Bob was being nothing but supportive, feeding you ice chips every once and a while and rubbing your lower back. He hated seeing you in so much pain. Even if you were a  sweaty cracked out mess Robert Floyd still thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. 
 “You're doing great baby, I know she’s being stubborn, but she’ll be here soon.” A nervous laugh left your mouth.
“Screw you, Floyd, she’s already just like her dad, stubborn and what feels like big headed!” Bob fed you another ice chip as he ran his finger over your bottom lip as you took it from his hand. 
“I’ll let that comment slide considering you're bringing our daughter into the world.” Bib moved your hair over your shoulder to gain access to your neck. His peppered gentle kisses along the side as your latest contraction subsided. Things were progressing smoothly, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 
You were glistening with a layer of sweat from your contractions as your body prepared itself for birth. exhausted from the pain, you leaned into Bobs touch, his arms snake their way around your body to support your weight. 
“Come on bub lets get you in bed yeah?” Bob moved the covers back and you slid in slowly, almost scared that any movement you made could trigger your next contraction. As Bob was placing the thin blanket over your legs the nurse came in to check on your process. 
“You’re about eight centimetres dilated honey, we can start to push at ten so your very close.” You almost didn’t respond. You were far too tired to think as you rolled over onto your left side as another contraction washed over you. Bob noticed you struggling to breathe and placed the oxygen mask they nurse had previously set up for you on. 
Bob pushed your hair back and tied it up in a loose ponytail, he was just trying to make you as comfortable as possible. You looked at him. He was so perfect, you couldn’t imagine going through this amount of pain for anyone else. He was your biggest supporter, your best friend, your therapist. You were his soulmate, his biggest Stan, his number one girl. From the moment you met Robert Floyd you instantly gravitated to each other, a wonderful flirtatious friendship which bloomed into a beautiful relationship complete with all its perfect imperfections. 
He would stop by the small coffee shop on his way to work every morning and you’d be there, with his order ready to go and made to perfection. 
At this point, you were coming close to your three-year anniversary, your gift to Bob? Telling him you were pregnant. The poor guy almost had a heart attack but was ecstatic, to say the least. 
You caught yourself reminiscing and focused back on Bob “I love you so much.” You mumbled into the mask. He smiled back at you letting out a chuckle.
“You won’t be saying that in a few moments baby.” Bob was already prepared for the worst. You were always the nicest out of the two of you and that was saying something. You felt your whole body tighten at the feeling of what felt like the most painful contraction yet and that was it, you couldn’t hold in the cry that you let out. It was a guttural scream as you tried to breathe through it the best you could.
Bob’s face filled with heartache as he watched the women he loved unconditionally go through agonising pain, he’d give his life to ease your pain just the slightest bit, yet there was absolutely nothing he could do to help. And it killed him. 
“Babe, I’m going to get the nurse okay.” He started to move away but you pulled him back by his arm. “Honey—“
“Don't you dare leave me, Robert Floyd, I n-need you here now.” Your eyes filled with tears as the light layer of sweat turned into dripping beads. Just as Bob turned back to say he’d be right back you felt a sudden urge to push. 
“Bob, I need this baby out of me right now! I can’t do this anymore!!” Sobbing, you screamed out in pain just as the nurse ran in.
“Darling I heard you from the reception, do you feel like you need to push? She said as she sat down on the swivel stool and rolled herself in between your legs at the end of the bed. 
“YES! YES, I need this fucking thing out of me NOW!” You felt bad for Bob at this point. He was just standing there holding your hand as you endured the most amount of pain he’d ever seen someone go through. He must have pressed the call for help button moments prior as three other nurses ran into the room. 
“Okay Y/n on the count of three I want you to push for me, can you do that? Dad, I want you to count down from ten for me out loud okay? Y/n don’t stop pushing till he’s finished counting” you nodded your head. “Okay in three, two, one push Y/n push” Bob held onto your hand a little tighter as he began to count down from ten, you pushed as hard as you could.
 “7, 6, 5….” 
“BOB COUNT FASTER!” Screaming at the top of your lungs, you continued to push, gripping his hand as tight as you could in the process. 
One—alright Y/n stop pushing, have a break, you did so well darling.” The nurse said as she inspected exactly how far along your baby was. You fell back onto the pillow, just to look up at Bob. 
“Make. It. stop.” Your breathing weighed heavily on your chest. Bob looked at you with wide eyes. He felt helpless. 
“I wish I could baby I’m so sorry, you're doing so well yeah? Just a few more pushes and she’ll be with us forever.” You had to push again, this time wasn’t any easier, but you knew that every second you pushed as hard as you could you would meet your baby girl quicker. That this would be over. That the pain in this moment would be worth it. That the last nine months were entirely worth it. 
“I hate you, I hate so much, you did this to me.” You looked at Bob, the love of your life, almost ready to pass out. “You are never coming anywhere near me again after this.” Bob couldn’t have looked more upset. He knew you were in agony though. He knew you were just going through it. 
“Don’t worry daddy, she’ll still love you after this, probably even more.” The nurse between your legs chuckled. “I hear it all the time.” 
“The hell I will!!!” You interrupted the nurse making her and Bob both laugh. He was so in love with you. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
You were on your final push. 
“Okay Y/n final push and your baby girl will be here, are you ready?” Drenched in sweat, completely and utterly exhausted you mumbled up to Bob who had yet to let go of your hand the entire time. 
“Just get this thing out of me.” Pushing as hard as you could, a scream erupting from your throat and suddenly, the pain was just……gone. A small cry filled the room and your head hit the pillow, exhausted. A few moments passed and the nurse returned to place the newly wrapped bundle of joy onto your chest, yet to be cleaned of all the blood and gunk from inside you. But oh she was perfect just the way she was. 
“Oh, oh hi little one I’m your mama.” Tears of joy streamed from your eyes as you looked at your baby girl for the first time. She was perfect, everything you could have imagined and more. 
“She so tiny, hi baby girl, I’m your daddy.” Bob whispered as he gently touched his little girl's tiny head. “Baby, you did so well, I'm so proud of you.” He kissed your forehead in thankfulness. “Thank you so much for giving me the best gift of all, thank you for giving birth to the best little girl in the world.” Bob couldn’t control his tears as he planted another kiss on your forehead. “I love my girls so much.” 
“I don’t hate you, I could never hate you.” laughter escaped from both your mouths. “Here, you wanna hold her?” Bon nodded with a gentle smile that had crept across his face. You lifted your baby girl up towards Bob's strong awaiting arms, he held her so close, so gently. Your heart overflowed with happiness. He’d never let anything bad happen to her. Not to his little girl. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
Two hours later 
After receiving some stitches and getting cleaned up you were happily resting with your newborn on your chest getting precious skin to skin time. 
“Y/n are you sure you don’t want me to leave?” At this point it felt like the whole world had seen your vagina, so you didn’t really care if Fanboy had stuck around in the waiting room for updates. Now, he stood by the window, wondering if he was crossing some invisible boundary as you tried your hand at breastfeeding. 
“No Micky,  I really don’t care, trust me, I’m just happy this little one is here”. Bob had gone to get you three some food, naturally asking Mickey to watch over his girls while he was gone. He was busy giving the rest of the Daggers updates on how you and your newborn were travelling. 
“Hey Mick? When we arrived here this morning you said something to the nurse. It was probably an accident and I’m totally over-analyzing the situation, but you referred to me as Bob's Fiancée?” Fanboy spat the water he was drinking from one of those little plastic cups all over the room, completely shocked with the statement. Did he actually? In the whirlwind did he actually let that one slip? 
“I uhhh, i-I did? Huh, that’s so weird, I honestly didn’t even notice I did that.” At this point, after having known Mickey Garcia for well over three years, you could read him like the back of your hand, you knew he was lying. But just as you were about to answer back, your baby girl started to cry, wanting to be fed. 
“Here, ill leave, give you some privacy” Fanboy thought he was doing you a favour as he begun walking towards the door of your maternity room when you stopped him. You weren’t all that ready to be alone yet. What if something happened? 
“Please stay Mick? I really don’t want to be alone and plus Bib would kill you if you went against his wishes and left his girl alone.” The tiny baby latched straight onto your nipple no problem. She was just perfect. 
“Okay, but i'll face the window, I feel like a pervert.” 
“Then don’t perv then?” Minutes later she was done feeding, You gently gave her a quick burp and asked Mickey if he could put her in her baby bed, so you could at least get a few minutes of sleep. She had after all woken you up at a crisp two thirty in the morning. 
“I don’t want to hurt her, are you sure you want me to?” 
“Of course I do! you’re her uncle, plus I know that we’re going to need your help a lot so you may as well start practicing now.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
You must have been out for a while, when you woke up, a smiling Robert Floyd was nursing his baby girl. Holding her close as he paced around the room. 
“I'll protect you with everything I have darling, you’ll always be loved and cared for. Your mamma was my best girl, my one and only love, I didn’t think I could love another girl as much as I love her but then you came into my life and I'd happily use her as a shield to protect you.” He laughed at his own joke. 
Great, the first dad joke and it was only the beginning of your forever of your lives together, you thought to yourself. A tiny cry came from the little human in his arms. “Shhh, shhh don’t wake your mama up darling, she’s been through a lot to get you here to me, she deserves her rest now my sweet, sweet girl.” Bob bounced her as he walked around the room slowly. 
“We still have to pick a name for you baby, I like Lily or Sky, we can’t name you Natasha because that would give Aunty Nix too much power, and we don’t want that now do we?” You laughed, startling Bob a little that he jumped a bit.
“Sorry I scared you, but very true. If it means anything I love the name Lily.” Bobs eyes went wide as a smile grew from ear to ear. 
“Did we just name our daughter?” Biting into your bottom lip you nodded in agreement. He walked over to you dawning beaming smile. Bob was completely filled with all the  love in the universe for his two beautiful girls. 
Bob placed Lily down onto your chest and you noticed something odd around her tiny fingers. You took a moment to process what it was. A shiny diamond ring, the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. besides your beautiful daughter.
“Bob?” Was all that fell out of your mouth before your eyes started to well for the seventh hundred time today. He brought his chair up to the side of your bed and rested his hand on the side of your face, caressing your wet check just as you had done to him back at home earlier that morning. 
“Y/n will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” Bob had told Fanbky earlier that week he was planning on asking you to marry him. That why in the flurry, Mickey had let it slip. 
You knew this day would come, you felt it in your heart. You loved Robert Floyd so fiercely and so tenderly and you knew he loved you just as much. 
He reached out gently to place the beautiful engagement ring his grandmother had given him on your finger. And with the happiest of tears with your newborn resting on your chest, you got the chance to say yes. 
“Robert Floyd, I thought you’d never ask.”
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oneforthemunny · 11 months
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love drunk |bouncer!eddie munson x bartender!reader|
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​​prompt: you and eddie work valentine's day at the hideout.
contains: 18+. alcohol, creepy old guys at the bar, mentions of road head, jealous!eddie, dacrphilia, mean!eddie, oral fem rec, spanking, hair pulling, degrading, p in v sex, aftercare. minors dni.
The Hideout was buzzing, filled with an unusual crowd of unlikely people, but what else did you expect on Valentine's Day?
Broken hearted men washing away their bitterness with beer and whisky, next to galentines celebrating their own freedom and singleness with shots and bad karaoke. The usual boys who were prowling the crowds for women desperate enough to go home with them, spewing horrible pick up lines that usually left the girls cringing and retreating the other way. Then there were the couples, some regulars and some not. They came to celebrate at the high top tables, people watch and enjoy their time together.
You'd been busy since you clocked in a little after four. You knew you'd be here well past last call, but that was alright, because Eddie was here. He was working the door with Tony, both in all black, leaned up at the entrance checking IDs and taking covers. Before your shift, Eddie had picked you up in his van, a dozen roses in the passenger seat.
You'd blushed, gushing to him about how sweet the gesture was. Eddie was sweet, so sweet. You'd never met a guy sweeter. He'd shrugged when you kissed him, smiley and gooey insides. "Anything for my best girl."
The two of you had only been together a few weeks, barely breaking the title of being official. You hadn't expected the gesture really, especially because you both worked. You figured you'd fuck after you got back to his place, you had wore your matching pink set for that reason, but the flowers were an extra effort that had your head swirling.
You sucked him off while he drove you to work as a thank you.
Now, you were pouring shots, mixing drinks, opening beers, collecting tips, slipping the wadded fives even some bigger bills into your bra with a wink and a dazzling smile. You knew the crowd would be big, and the tippers even bigger- the holidays always made people more generous when you were pouring drinks down their throats- so you wore your tightest, lowest top.
Eddie had noticed.
His eyes would catch yours from the door, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth when you bent over, shorts riding up over the nylon stockings you had underneath.
"C'mon, man." Tony laughed, shoving Eddie's shoulder.
Eddie smirked, nodding to the desperate girl at the door, who batted her eyes at him, eyes attempting at what he could only guess was sultry or sexy. He didn't care. They never worked on him anymore.
You poured another shot of whisky, sliding the glasses to the men in front of you. "Hey, sweetheart, take a shot with us." The old man slurred, tie loose and around his neck.
You smirked, adding their drinks to his tab. "Sorry, I'm on the clock." You said with an exaggerated pout. "My manager will get real mad at me."
The men sounded off their displeasure, smacking the bar with open palms so their glasses rattled. "Who, Mickey? I know Mickey, baby, he-he won't get ya in trouble. Not a pretty thing like you."
You knew these guys were big tippers which is the only reason you hadn't had them cut off and removed. They had been whistling, cat calling, and spewing every lewd, vulgar thing that came to their drunken, filthy minds and you and Tasha all night. You both would just look at each other, roll your eyes, and go back to the middle-aged women divorcees who were much nicer and sweeter to you.
"Just one little shot, baby. Hell, I'll pay for it." Jack Harrington, Steve's dad, slurred, grinning at you with a predatory smile. No wonder Steve hated the guy so much.
"I'll do you one better," They guy next to him, Marco- you think, boasted, pulling out his wallet. He slid a crisp one hundred dollar bill out, slapping it on the table. "One hundred dollars and I'll buy the shot. Make it top shelf, sweetheart." He winked, the other guys whooping and hollering with him.
Eddie had looked over at the commotion, dark eyes narrowed on the rowdy group of men. He despised when they came in. Regulars and assholes at that, always hurling objectifying, nasty comments to the bartenders there. Getting so drunk they could barely drive home. They were especially rowdy tonight after dinner with their wives and mistresses, who they hated, before coming here.
Eddie was waiting, just waiting for you or Tasha to give him the sign. Give him the signal that they needed to be gone. He'd take complete joy in tossing them out, making sure they hit the pavement on their way out.
"I tell you what," You started, placing your hands on your hips. You nudged Tasha who watched you carefully, pouring her ale into a glass. "Make it a hundred a piece for me and Tasha, I'll pick the shot, and," You paused, smirking at the way their eyes lit up. "You gotta go sing me a song." You nodded towards the stage.
The men howled in laughter as Marco pulled out another hundred, sliding it next to yours. "Deal, angel." He said smugly. "Any requests?"
You grabbed the money, sliding Tasha her's then sliding yours in your bra. You pulled out a shot glasses, lining them up Patron and a bowl of limes. "Something romantic." You smiled. "It's Valentine's Day after all." 
You pressed your glass against theirs, downing the harsh liquid with a grimace while they cheered you on, celebrating each other obnoxiously. Eddie's jaw clenched from the door, yanking the cover cash from a college aged kid a little too harshly. He knew it was your job, you were just trying to make enough money to pay your rent just like he was, but it didn't make it any less hard when you'd flirt like this.
You made your rounds, pouring, swiping, smiling, and maneuvering expertly around the bar. Stacking glasses, cutting limes and oranges, wiping away spills, chatting with patrons. You even filled up two glasses of water, light ice and extra lemon- the way Eddie liked it- bringing them to the door for Tony and him.
Eddie smiled when you brought it over, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks, baby," Eddie muttered, stabbing his straw on the table in front of him, wadding up the wrapper.
"You need anything else?" You asked, looking at Tony then Eddie.
"Nah, do you? Those guys still bothering you and Tasha?" Tony asked, nodding to the group of men from before.
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "No, they're jackasses. Total dicks, but we're fine." You smiled, placing a hand on Eddie's shoulder, squeezing it gently. You didn't miss the way he was tight, tense against your touch.
He tensed even more when Marco got up on stage, sloppily serenading you to ACDC's 'Shook Me All Night Long' with added vulgar dance moves while he pointed at you, adding your name into the chorus lyrics. Eddie was fuming.
Closing time couldn't come soon enough. The love birds and broken hearted left as easily as they came, the miracle of holidays. You and Tasha finished your closing duties, laughing and scoffing while you exchanged stories from the night. Eddie and Tony helped you, tidying up the place, but Eddie didn't have his usual charm. He wasn't cracking jokes, flexing his muscles and exaggeratedly saying 'what he woulda done if he wasn't on the clock'. He was distant, quiet, even with you.
By the time the two of you walked out, your arms looped around his leather clad arm, his mind was reeling. "...I made a lot of tips tonight." You grinned excitedly to him. "It was a pretty good night actually. I thought we'd be dead on Valentine's Day, but I've got enough in tips tonight to pay my rent for the month!"
Eddie huffed, furiously starting the engine to the van. "Yeah, that's great." He muttered. "With how you were actin' tonight, 'm not surprised."
You faltered, eyes furrowing a bit. "Ed, what're you talking about?" You asked. He shook you off, peeling out of the parking lot furiously. "Hey, look at me, are you," You squinted, studying his features. "Are you jealous?"
You couldn't help the little grin that formed on your lips when you asked, eyes lighting up mischievously. Eddie huffed. "'M not jealous." He snapped. "Just fuckin' hate it when you entertain those douchebag guys." He snarled.
You snorted, smugly crossing your arms. "You're jealous." You declared. "Honestly, Eddie, do you really think I give a shit about those guys?"
"You sure act like you do." Eddie bit, eyes flashing over to you. "Takin' shots and talkin' all sweet to 'em. No wonder he sang that shit to you, and you were laughing-"
"-Because he looked like an idiot." You laughed. "Tasha and I we're making fun of him. Everyone was laughing at him." Eddie huffed, a pouty, childish huff that left you grinning.
"They're complete and utter assholes that are good tippers, Eddie. I am repulsed by them, honestly. They're so gross and creepy, and I'm actually a little insulted that you would think they're my type." You snipped, eyeing him carefully.
Eddie's lips pressed together, not necessarily mad but thinking. You leaned closer to him, arms wrapping around his torso, pressing kisses to the exposed, ink skin of his biceps. "Baby, please, you can't seriously think I'd be into them." You said, looking up at him with rounded eyes.
"Just don't like it 's all." Eddie muttered. "Don't like it when they say that kinda shit to you." His fists clenched on the wheel, knuckles whitening. Your heart fluttered.
You hummed, pushing a stray hair behind his ear, tucking it and trailing your finger lightly down his jaw. "Don't be upset, please?" You asked. "It's Valentine's Day."
"That was technically yesterday." Eddie grumbled looking at the clock on his dash, the time read 3:02 a.m.
You sighed dramatically, pulling back so you sat in your seat. "Oh, guess I wore this for nothing then." You said, with a small shrug, looking out the window.
You felt Eddie's eyes on you. "Wore your work uniform?" Eddie snorted.
Your eyes flashed at him, biting back a smile. "No-o," You sing-song, batting your eyes at him. "What's under it, silly." You teased.
You'd been more than happy to show Eddie once you got back to his trailer, his mood lightening severely with the reveal. You'd kneeled on the edge of his bed, pink hearts smattering the see through material of the bra and panties, leaving very little the imagination.
Eddie dropped to his knees when he saw you, hands roaming all over your waist, legs, hips, squeezing and grabbing at anything he could, eyes wide and mouth watering. You looked like an angel, an angel he was about to ruin.
He didn't taken your panties off the whole night. He licked you right through the thin material until they were completely soaked from you and him. He'd pulled your bra down under your tits, so they were pushed up and presented for him while he sucked bruises into the delicate skin, marking you completely.
When he did fuck you, after you were writing and begging under his touch, he was relentless. Pounding you into the sheets until you couldn't even utter a sound, moans and gasps caught in your throat, tears streaming down your face.
"Yeah? You like that, don't you?" Eddie asked, hand cracking down on your upturned ass, gripping the skin as he pounded into you. "Like being fucked like the little slut you are, don't you?"
You drooled into the sheets, tears and saliva mixing into the pool beneath you. Eddie was fucking you with vigor, much more than you expected after a late night, busy shift. Your legs shook, clamping around him again with a small whine.
"Aw, you gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, huh?" Eddie cooed mockingly towards you.
Your eyes rolled back, crying when you came, then gasping when he yanked your hair back, pulling you up so you were flush against him, one arm around your torso, the other tweaking your sensitive nipples.
"God, I've wanted to fuck you all night." Eddie growled in your ear. "You wore those short little shorts didn't you? Had to wear them tonight, didn't you, you little slut?"
You cried, tears leaking down your cheeks, gripping onto his wrist. You were so sensitive, every thrust of his cock felt like a jab into your belly, a blow that sent you spiraling into your white hot abyss.
"Fuck, look at you, so pathetic." Eddie sneered, gripping your jaw harshly. "Wish those guys could see you now, huh? See you crying' like this. And over what, huh? Over my dick?"
You whimpered, lip wobbling as you clenched around him. Eddie groaned, tilting his own head back. You loved it when he was mean, when he fucked you like he owned you. Eddie let you fall forward into the mattress face first, gripping your hips as he snapped his hips into yours rough and purposeful.
You gripped the sheets, clenching hard around him as he muttered behind you, bringing his hand down twice on your cheeks before cumming, buried deep into your sopping pussy.
Eddie bent at the waist, falling on top of you gently, sweaty bangs pressed to your back, pressing kisses up and down your spine. "Holy shit," Eddie breathed out, deep and slow, eyes still closed.
You whimpered when he pulled out of you, leaving you aching and empty. You cheeks were sticky with tears and smeared makeup, legs still shaking even as Eddie went to the bathroom to grab a rag and clean you.
He took his time with you after, cleaning you up slowly, pressing kisses into you cheeks, neck, down your sternum, on your legs. He wiped himself off before throwing the rag into the hamper, climbing into the bed next to you. You were pressed up into his sheets, legs over his torso, arms tangled together, sharing the assorted chocolate that Mickey had given everyone- a thank you for working the holiday.
"You like the fruit ones?" You asked, nose twisting up in disgust.
Eddie shrugged, popping the orange cream filled chocolate into his mouth. "Yeah, 's pretty good. You don't?"
You shook your head, burying yourself into his inked skin, lids heavy as he stroked your hair. "I liked the caramel ones, or the toffee."
Eddie scoffed. "Lame. Everybody likes those."
You giggled, vibrations rocking from your chest to his making him smile. Eddie looked down at you, your fingers wrapped around his sheets, lashes fluttering to fight against the sleep tugging at your eyes.
"Thank you for the roses." You yawned, looking up at him. "No ones ever got those for me before." You admitted.
"Really?" Eddie asked, you shook your head. "That's a damn shame. Glad I'm the first." He grinned, pressing a kiss to your head.
"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."  He whispered, feeling your body sink into his, heavy on his chest. "Maybe next year we'll get the night off, hm?"
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Window into the Alps, 1970s
Mickey Crisp
988 notes · View notes
faeiri-tft · 6 months
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PLEASE do the toontown online rant i want it so badly
this post kinda got away from me, and by "got away from me" i mean this 3000 word toontown rant is Part One. there will be a Part Two to this later in which i actually talk about the fanservers i wanted to talk about. anyway let's go
toontown online (tto) was a children's mostly-turn-based subscription MMO released in 2003. after a few years of obviously being on life support, disney gave a one-month notice that tto (and several other games) would be closing on september 19th, 2013. on the same day the game closed, the fan-run server toontown rewritten (ttr) was announced (with multiple other fanservers/fangames/reimaginings being established since), and is a few months away from outliving the original game
see, one thing about tto that allowed fanservers to crop up so quickly and easily was that it had, um, interesting choices. very interesting choices. like, "kids could use a code injector to turn their backyards into giant mashed-together nightmarescapes"-level choices
youtube
(loose video description: a rabbit toon running around a chaotic mismash of rooms, obstacles, and npcs that Should Not Be There. audio caption: Evanescence's "Bring Me To Life".)
but ok let's talk about the actual game first.
toontown online (tto)
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the game starts with you creating your player character - you can pick from eventually-9 species, a couple body types, and 2 dozen preset colors. the gender code is a spaghetti nightmare but you won't learn this until the fanservers come about so don't worry about it. you're then taken to the Toontorial, which explains maybe 20% of the game's mechanics before setting you loose into the main game
the toontorial also gives you the basic "plot", such as it is: Toontown is suddenly* under attack by a bunch of boring businessrobots called the Cogs. their goal is to turn toontown into a dreary gray featureless corporate hell; their business activities are so boring that they're physically painful to be around. luckily, they can't take a joke, so the toons have figured out how to defeat them: by playing pranks on them until they laugh so hard they Explode
*originally, the game installer had a little animation giving a backstory for the Cogs' creation. this was never referenced in game, removed pretty quickly, and i think even the devs kinda forgot it existed
that's...pretty much the whole story! in that context, your toon progresses through all of toontown, helping some mostly-pretty-interchangeable shopkeepers, reclaiming buildings from the cogs, eating ice cream, etc. occasionally, the cogs would Come Up With New Tricks (read: major content update) and the toons would Find A Way To Fight Back (read: same major content update). that was the closest thing to Plot, unless you count "the devs scheduled a bunch of invasions of high-tier cogs right before the game's closure". but...i doubt most the kids really expected a Plot. mickey mouse was there
the gameplay:
the Free Account
there were two...pretty different approaches to playing toontown online. when the game launched, there was a 3-day free trial to the entire game, after which you got kicked entirely until you subscribed. at some point, this was changed so that the first area, Toontown Central (TTC), was Always Free - you could do all of that area's quests/"taskline" and limited activities, indefinitely, and in theory this would make you beg your parents for the rest of the game
i have no idea if this actually got more subscriptions or not. from what i can tell it just spawned more warrior cats
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there were. a Lot of warrior cats. there were some other social activities, too, such as Fashion Shows (with your limited range of clothes) and Begging Subscribed Players To Summon Cog Buildings To TTC and Getting Chat Banned. ...however, as one of the subscription kids i didn't really interact with this side of the game, so i'm not the best person to talk about it
2. the Paid Account
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mmm look at those crisp clear graphics. hell yes
a subscription account gave you access to this whole map, along with all these areas' tasklines. to progress through the game, you must complete a variety of "ToonTasks" for the Toon Resistance (it's called that. their catchphrase is "Toons of the World, Unite!". you were giving disney money for this). these reward you by increasing your max health (your "Laff Points"), slowly unlocking more combat options, and sending you to different, higher-difficulty areas of toontown
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some of these tasks were...longer than others. generally, though, they all boiled down to: "just go fight some cogs"
combat:
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toontown battles are turn-based: the players use their attacks ("gags") first, and then any surviving cogs attack you with, usually, office equipment and puns thereof (unless the cog is e.g. a Loan Shark, in which case they can just fucking bite you). if you defeat a cog, it explodes; if the cog defeats you, you "go sad" and are sent back to the safety of the playground, lose your gag inventory, and can't leave until you heal.
early on, most your battles are 1v1, but later on almost everything is a multiplayer 4-ish-v-4.
an...interesting feature here in the game's early days was that you could only Type Your Own Words to someone who shared their "friend code" with you IRL. otherwise, you had to use this thing:
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(source)
you had a set list of phrases you could string together, which generally covered most the things you wanted to say. but it could get frustrating when you wanted to have a real conversation with your toontown friends! so...as the source above mentions, people obviously found ways around the system. turns out that if you let players move objects around their houses, they will use that to Draw Letters and pass their friend code along regardless
eventually - before the warrior cats, of course - disney presumably realized this system was pretty goofy (🥁) , so the game got a real chat, albeit one that functioned on a very strict whitelist. my favorite is that it didn't let you type numbers, however you could just say won too tree for hive etc. like. disney i really don't know what to tell you. anyway
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(isn't he charming)
cogs come in levels 1-12, with levels displayed above their heads, and as you'd expect their damage output and HP increase with their level. however, the game doesn't...actually show you cog HP? instead they have a little colored light on their chest that fades from green to red until they explode. you see numbers on all the damage you do, and you see your own HP/laff, but never the cogs'. also lategame cogs are Too Tall For You To See Their Level once they line up for battle (which isn't actually that bad but it's funny). there's a formula for HP per level, but it's never mentioned in-game. i guess someone can teach it to you but then you have to watch them type "a level tin cog has won tree too health" and is that really worth it
(as you can tell i just…don't get this. "my kid is practicing arithmetic with toontown!" - marketing angle expressly denied by god. the stealth edutainment was right there)
anyway! in theory, you have seven base combat options ("gag tracks"), which combine in a variety of ways:
toon-up, which restores your teammates' health;
trap, which does guaranteed high damage but only if someone uses lure;
lure, which stuns the cogs for a few turns and is the only way to make trap work
sound, which does low damage to every cog;
throw, which does medium-high-ish damage to one cog; multiple throws combined give percentage combo damage, and hitting a lured cog will also add percentage "knockback damage";
squirt, which is exactly like throw but less damage;
and drop, which does high damage but cannot hit lured cogs, and has low accuracy unless you hit the cog with something else first
each gag track has 6 levels, which you unlock by using that gag track a bunch. you can't carry as many of the high levels with you - i mean, putting one piano in your backpack makes perfect sense, but two is just silly, right
a few years into the game's lifespan, level 7s were added - these were huge AOE that you could regain with every 500 track EXP. there was also something called "organic gags" to promote the please-log-in-every-day gardening system
every player starts with throw and squirt, and throughout the game you slowly unlock four more gag tracks. your choices are permanent: once you have your six tracks, you're locked out of the seventh forever.
in theory, all of this opens up a huge variety of combat options!
in practice, the battle strategy looks something like this:
use sound
as mentioned, almost all of lategame will be 4v4 battles, which means sound will almost always outdamage everything on earth. you don't even need four foghorns (the highest normal sound gag) to break 200 AOE damage, and the highest health a cog EVER has is 200*. and two of the boss battles can reward you with gag restocks and heals that you can use mid-battle with no consequences (other than having to grind for those rewards a bunch). and failing THAT, you can just...ration your foghorns and take 2 turns to clear a set of cogs, interspersed with healing.
(*okay there was something called "v2.0 cogs" but they were...strange, and we just used sound anyway)
sure, once level 7s were added you could use those occasionally. and you could fall back on lure+throw if you didn't want to use your sound restocks. but even then, for most of tto's existence there was something called the "knockback bug" which. well. just look at it
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(link for transcript. it's tvtropes sorry)
if you are a target-audience eight-year-old this translates to "lure + throw will only do enough damage if the cogs Feel like it." like it's really just insult to injury at this point. this was the result of One misplaced variable and was not fixed until the game closed
in the tto era, if you didn't have sound, you were kinda doomed to be kicked out of every fight forever
(bonus fun fact: there were Four entire battle themes and they were 40-second midi loops. let me out)
the bosses:
each of the four cog departments has a Boss Cog. to face off against them, you have to assemble a cog disguise and collect enough merits/stock options/whatever to be allowed into the boss's office.
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(pictured: your convincing disguise)
when you enter, your disguise pops off due to Reasons, and you have to fight through...a bunch of waves of normal cogs. it's basically a really long normal battle. once the minions are dealt with, you have to, inexplicably, do a live-action battle against the boss themself:
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(loose video description: four toons defeating the CFO by using magnet cranes to hit him in the face with safes for 32 seconds.)
the live-action rounds aren't supposed to go this quickly, but it's still...kinda strange? certain reoccurring game areas require Parkour, but there are no battles like this outside of the Four bosses. the CFO's room is the only place you see these cranes and they have A Lot Going On. the other 3 bosses have their own unique weird mechanics. before the first boss was added we neither had nor needed the ability to Jump. it's just weird
once you've defeated the boss, you're given a reward of varying usefulness (the best/most unbalanced reward type is Unites, which are a free heal or gag restock you can do inside or outside of battle. essentially lategame toons can simply choose not to die. riv2u etc.)
and, um. then you get some more merits/stock options/whatever and do it again. and again. and again. and again. and agai
the grind:
so the thing is that tto was a subscription mmo. every addition to the game had to be measured, above all, in terms of "how can we best get kids to beg their parents to give us money." this especially shows in the suit grind:
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(source/source)
you have to defeat each boss 78 times in order to get all their laff points - and as you proceed, you have to defeat an increasing amount of cogs to even be allowed into the boss (although once you max you get in for free).
by far the easiest way is to run through the designated HQ facilities - basically, cog fights interspersed with some platforming or minigames. you only collect your merits/whatever at the Very End of the facility. the only way to increase what a facility gives you is if your last battle ends during an "invasion" - a timed period where One Specific Cog replaces all street cogs, usually summoned with boss rewards.
the sellbot HQ grind isn't so bad. bossbot HQ - the endest-game HQ - frequently requires you to do an hour-long facility and on six separate occasions you have to do seven of them. if the invasion ends before your final battle, you have to sit around until someone summons another. if you lose your internet connection because it's 2008, or if your parents make you come to dinner, or if hacking or the game's general bugginess cause a server reset because you're probably in the busiest district for the invasion bonus, you have spent that Entire Hour On Nothing. the CEO (bossbot cog boss) probably also takes an hour because you and your fellow players are 10
this shit, combined with laff points locked behind gardening (time-gated), racing and golfing (multiplayer minigames with absurd requirements), and fishing (RNG-based with some fish being absurdly rare. i watched my mom fish for one every day for a month), meant that maxing a toon took Years, if you managed it ever.
it wasn't, um. it wasn't good
ok so what else is wrong with this game:
i had "aged out of the game" (lol) by the early '10s, so i'm not the best person to do a writeup of the hacking/scripting situation of those days. that said, what i'm going to do is give you a few examples, and i want you to just...look at them
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(source)
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(source). early '10s youtube was funny i'm trying to decide if i miss it
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(source). fun thing to note here is that other players had collision, so a swarm of t-posing toons could just barricade the gag shop if they wanted to
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(video description: toon who has Replaced His Head Model With An Anime Logo throwing thousands of jellybeans at everyone) (cw mild flashing just in case? and also the feather headband accessory)
i should note that the Bring Me To Life vid i started with was client-side, meaning only the player could see their technicolor hellscape. this guy's face was server-side. i do Not Think you should be able to do that
youtube
(video description: a player demonstrating use of a bot to get into the nutty river district, followed by other players using it to go to different game areas)
the above video was posted on august 17th, 2013. if you don't want to watch an Unregistered Hypercam 3 recording at about 5 frames per second, what's going on here is:
the player goes to a specific location and says a specific speedchat phrase.
a bot toon teleports to their location and provides some prompts on how to use it
the player tells the bot, via speedchat, to teleport to the (currently closed from the outside) busiest district so the player can follow
these "taxi toons" were server-sided, persisted across server resets, were made by a future fanserver dev, had younger kids referring to them as a "glitch" as if this were something that could Accidentally Happen, and stayed functional until the game closed
like...a lot of the "hacking" was just baby's first script download. this one - afaict also created by the laughing man head guy - is like...the fact that after years of no substantial game updates, someone effectively programmed their own "QOL feature" (note: not actually good for the poor mid-00s server being turned into a clown car) into a silly disney MMO and it just fucking sat there for a year is just. it's just.
i don't know what this is. this is not Playing The Game Toontown Online. this is nothing. this is everything. there are comments from 2013 on some of these videos saying stuff like "hackers killed toontown", but your game cannot have this happen if it is not already dying
and, like...it was. i'm not sure how many moderators there were by this point, but at the very end of tto, the number of active devs was One. the original devteam recently brought this up at the 20th anniversary celebration: devs just...slowly started getting pulled from the game, one at a time. there were a few updates after bossbot HQ - Field Offices, which i've basically never heard anything good about in their tto form ever; the Silly Meter, a yearly event...thing whose main function was to add unskippable dancing-inanimate-object cutscenes to your street battles; Parties, which...yknow parties were okay actually. i accept parties. but they weren't exactly a Major Game Update like the ones that had come before. in 2011 we gained the ability to Wear Hats. in 2012 the test server got some actual QOL updates that never made it to the main game; the final test server update was some maintenance in february, and then nothing for 18 months. disney was not providing enough resources to address the scripting because disney was not providing enough resources to address toontown. imagine being the last dev standing on an MMO that was older than some of its players, was losing its business model to mobile gaming, and spent most of its life falling apart at the seams. just imagine it, for a second
it couldn't have kept going, not like this.
on august 20, 2013, the closing announcement came: we had a month left of toontown online. the test server shut immediately; subscription refunds went out, and the game became actually F2P for the month; the part of the announcement that went like "we're shifting our focus to other games!" made a bunch of twelve-year-olds hate club penguin as if club penguin wouldn't also close in a few years; all the holiday events went off at once; and...
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there wasn't a "thanks for playing!" popup. everyone online just got kicked, all at once. it was finally over
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hey wait.
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too-antigonish · 28 days
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This is the Fred Thursday Endeavour prequel I dream about...
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Sure 1960s Oxford had a lot to work with, but it’s got nothing on post-war London.
Picture it: The whole country is in the midst of social upheaval. Men are returning home after years away. They’re dealing with massive trauma and having difficulty readjusting to civilian life. Their families have spent years learning to live without them. The reunions don’t always go well. 
Constant shortages have led to thriving black markets and a rise in organized crime. A huge influx of working-age men leaves many unemployed and vulnerable to the worst temptations.
Neighborhoods, especially in the East End, are still littered with the rubble of the Blitz. Evidence of destruction is a daily fact of life and death is still a presence. Children playing in the ruins encounter unexploded ordnance on a tragically regular basis. 
Into all of this walks a young Fred Thursday....
As a soldier he saw brutal action in North Africa and worked with the partisans in Italy.  He had a passionate affair with a woman he now believes to be dead. The rest of his wartime service remains a mystery to us.
Now he’s back near where he grew up—one of three brothers in Mile End. Billy didn’t make it back from the war. Charlie is now running the family’s warehouse business—and dating some girl named Paulette.
He’s been reunited with his wife Win (he doesn’t tell her about the affair) and is just learning what it’s like to be a father to Joan. The three of them are living with Win’s parents over the ironmongers and it’s not easy rubbing along together, not with so many people in tight quarters.
Fred is trying readjust to civilian life, making the shift from soldier to the policeman he once was. The lines blur easily in the brutal world of the East End but Sergeant Vimes, his governor at Cable Street,  does his best to keep him on the straight and narrow.
Those are just the basics of Fred's story from canon! I look at it and ideas for episodes just start spinning out in my head. It would be such an amazing series!
And then...
Eventually Fred moves up, takes young Mickey Carter under his wing—and makes the mistake of going after Vic Kasper. When Carter gets himself killed and is then falsely accused of having been on the take, Fred has to get his family out. He takes Win, Joan, and now Sam, and leaves everything and everyone they’ve ever known. 
Oxford is a whole new world. The kids have never seen so much green. The house is bigger than they ever could have imagined. His new boss, DCS Crisp, seems nice enough...
Ahh! If I weren't horrible at imagining casting I'd already have a list!
And then I think, maybe the whole thing’s got a framing device. Maybe the older Thursday from Endeavour, from wherever he sits in exile, is writing this all down. He’s recording these stories of what it was like when he was a young copper.
I’d like to think that in the end he puts it all together to send to Endeavour (not Morse, but specifically Endeavour) as a sort of memorandum of understanding. He's telling him, "I saw what made you into you. Now I'm telling you: here's what made me into me."
Happy Thursday Thursday!
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lovelytsunoda · 1 month
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uptown girl // mickey "fanboy" garcia
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soft kisses shared in the bar light after a game of pool
she would do anything for her nerd boy. except maybe meet his friends in a crowded bar with a pool table where she can make a fool of herself in front of all of her boyfriend's friends. it's a good thing that mickey is a good teacher.
pairing: mickey "fanboy" garcia x female! reader
author's note: he had like four lines and i was prepared to go to war for this man.
the hard deck hummed with activity as she parked her car, flicking off the manual headlights before glancing at her phone, which was pinned to it's magnetic holder on the dashboard.
it wasn't too late to text mickey and tell him something had come up, was it?
as she was thinking it, as if mickey could hear her, her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a text message from her beloved.
mickey: hey sweet girl, are you almost here? everyone is so excited to meet you!
she sighed, switching the music off and cutting the engine, sitting in the dark car and waiting for the heated seat to lose its warmth. her relationship with mickey garcia was still very new.
they had only been together for a few months, having met at an eighties rock-and-glow dance night. she was standing by the stage, dressed in skinny jeans and a white t-shirt that glowed fluorescent in the blacklight, an old-timey glass sprite bottle in her hands as she sang bonnie tyler at the top of her lungs. he was the best dancer there, with a goofy personality that captivated her from the moment he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a slow dance to 'heaven in your eyes'.
deciding to rip the band-aid off, she grabbed her tote bag from the passenger seat and slipped out of the car, sea breeze cutting deep and sending a chill down her spine as she walked up the weathered steps to fightertown's navy bar.
her sweet boy was impossible to miss, his smile lighting up the whole bar as he stood next to the pool table, his short-sleeved button shirt untucked from his crisp blue jeans.
as nervous as she was, it was hard not to smile when she saw him, watching as he leaned over the table to delicately knock a striped ball into one of the pockets in the corner of the table. after the shot, he looked up, and infectious grin breaking out over his face when he saw her.
"hey, pretty girl." he beamed, passing his pool cue to a woman in a black turtleneck and jeans before he sidestepped the table and pulled his lover into an embrace. "i'm glad you came."
"hi, mickey." she smiled, kissing him softly. "i've missed you."
"are you ready to meet everyone? or do you want something to eat first? i can order you a plate of onion rings-"
she laughed softly, taking his hand in hers. she loved how attentive and sweet he was, always trying to dote on her whenever he could. when they were together, he hated letting her pay for things, even if it meant dipping into his not-enormous navy salary "mickey, it's okay. i have time to meet your friends before i order."
with a soft kiss to the side of her head, mickey looped his arm around her shoulders and they headed towards the pool table. "guys, this is y/n. my girlfriend."
she underestimated how much her heart would swell at hearing mickey say those words. hearing someone declare to the world that they had chosen her.
"y/n, this is natasha, jake, robert, bradley, hallie and javy."
"hello!" she squeaked, waving at the group. "nice to finally meet you guys, mickey has told me so much about you guys."
robert laughed, reaching out to shake her hand. "and mickey has told us even more about you. fanboy loves to talk."
she never though she'd meet someone who talked as much as she did until she met mickey. they could talk for hours, about anything and everything. when they were together, she suspected it would drive the people around them insane. except she didn't know how his friends would react, what they would think of her.
they made small talk for a little, while some of the guys and natasha all took their turns at the pool table. it was team game, although the teams seemed to be a little unbalanced in terms of skill level. mickey had pulled her into his lap, gently rubbing circles on the skin underneath her peasant top.
jake leaned over the table, his pool cue hitting the white ball, white harmlessly dusted the side of the ball he was aiming for, plunking down in the basket.
"god damn it, hangman!" javy groaned
natasha laughed, high-fiving bradley. "sucks to suck, bagman!"
mickey shifted in his chair, hands running up her sides. "our turn, pretty girl. do you want to try?"
she turned back to him, a small glint of panic in her eyes as she took his hand in hers. "i'm not very good."
bradley snorted, taking a sip of his budweiser. "we're miles ahead of hangman, you could break the table and we'd still be ahead of them."
"go on." mickey encouraged, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder blade. "i'll guide you."
she stood up, still clutching his hand in hers as she moved towards the pool table. hallie passed her a pool cue, and she stood nervously by the table until mickey came up behind her. his hands were warm through her jeans, his back against hers as he guided her into the correct position.
"you got this, sweet girl." he said quietly, kissing the side of her head gently, his hands over hers on the cue. "it's a straight shot into the basket."
mickey stepped back, his hands still on her waist as she took the shot, hitting with just enough force for the white ball to send the orange solid ball into the basket.
one fell swoop.
mickey's side of the pool table started to cheer, and her cheeks flushed pink as she turned around to wrap her arms around mickey, hiding her face from the crowd.
"great job, my darling girl." mickey laughed, kissing her softly. "are you sure you haven't played pool before."
"my grandfather had a table in his basement." she said sheepishly, leaning the cue against the table to she could slip her hands into mickey's back pockets. "but i haven't played a proper game since I was twelve. he sold the table when they sold the house."
"maybe you'll have to play more often." mickey said, leaning in to kiss her softly. "i love you."
"i love you too."
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@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @thatsdemko @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @httpiastri
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ch3shire-rabbit · 1 year
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I just saw some guy threaten some other guy in a spot-on Mickey Mouse impression???????
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citizenscreen · 1 year
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Mickey Rooney, Elizabeth Taylor, and Donald Crisp ready to reprise their NATIONAL VELVET roles for “Lux Radio Theatre” in 1947.
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