AL

Real men scare me, fictional men it is! 20

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

Sick as a dog. <Bradley Bradshaw x reader>

This is my first published piece of writing but my baby, Reese Withoutaspoon aka @greatbigshiningstar is sick with Covid, and I want to make her feel better even if I’m not where near her. Love you doll hope you can imagine Roost with this.

I hope you enjoy and anytime any one of you are sick just remember Bradley would buy you your favourite soup and cut your bread exactly the way you like it!

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x (f)reader

word count: 1846

warnings: Mentions of feeling and being sick, Bradley’s awful dad jokes, way too many curse words and sexual references (if you really squint hard enough – haha hard)

summary: The reader is home sick from the flu she got from work (can be whatever job you want I’m not going to explicitly describe what job she does) and wants to just curl up and die. Will Rooster let her be alone? No! He protect. He attack. He’s got his baby’s back! Just a cute little drabble of Bradley looking after her.

Pain. Pain is all I could feel, coursing through my body and destroying everything in its path. It's like if you gave the basic flu weapons and said, 'have at it!'. Now all I can think about are cartoon germs with machine guns shooting at my immune system until there is nothing left to destroy. Now, I'm an averagely smart person I obviously know that they don't have weapons and aren't shooting me from the inside but right now if you told me to stand up straight and count to ten, I'd be doing the macarena and wouldn't even notice the difference. I go to cuddle my pillow until I realise, I'm not even in bed I'm in my car and have been since 3 pm. 4 hours in my car just sitting there. No music. No phone. Just sitting. When did I get home? How did I get home? Did I accidentally kill anyone on my way home? I guess we'll never know.

I decide that I need to go inside and curl up and live my life in a quarantine-like staycation where I will not be talking to anyone, my best friend will be my cold bathroom floor and kid's drowsy cough medicine because I only like the strawberry flavour and apparently adult medicine manufacturers thought Let's make it taste worse than their own vomit and make them take it 3-4 times a day. Yeah, no thanks I'm okay with my kiddie medication, maybe that's why I'm always asked for parenting advice by new mums in the pharmacy. By the time I actually am able to get my dead legs out of the car, it's been 27 minutes and I stumble into my shitty home like a newborn deer learning to walk. All because of Jaida from work.

That bitch Jaida can get the flu, have a few sniffles and get on with the day. But puts everyone else at risk. Like okay, Jaida you've got a good immune system we get it! She gets to continue her day whereas I am reenacting the exorcist when I even try to drink water.  How is it fair? I enjoy my job. I want to be at my job. I unscrew the top of the medicine bottle and simply drink it like it's an energy drink, the door to my bedroom opens and I just lay on the bed. 

Suddenly I hear the front door open once again. All this time I've been thinking about myself when I forget I share this shitty home with my amazing boyfriend who has such an important job and if he gets sick, what if he can't go out on a flight and countless people die because of it? Okay nope, he's not allowed near me it is decided I am going to reenact another film, Contagion. 

"Honey I'm home!" I hear the naval officer yell throughout the house. The silence is deafening in response. He starts whistling about as if his version of echolocation will be able to locate me within the house. I stand up to back myself against the door so he cannot enter which feels like the biggest task I've ever completed. I hear him try to push the bedroom door open and fail imminently. "Why are you up against the door? Are you naked? You know I don't mind it's nothing I haven't seen before." He goes to push against the door once again.

"I'm not naked. I'm sick." I weakly croak out just enough for him to hear.

"Okay? So are you going to let me in or?" His voice is laced with confusion, boy take a hint, I love you but not happening. 

"I'm not letting you in because if you get sick you might not be able to work and if you can't work then Mav might personally send firing jets to shoot me." He can tell there's a frown on my face even behind the oak door. By now I'm sitting on the floor leaning against the door because all my energy is drained. I hear Rooster's knees drop to the floor and look to see him looking through the gap at the bottom of the heavy door and hear a little giggle. "Fuck off it's not funny!" I can't help but laugh which causes my chest and throat to hurt more. "I'm dying of influenza in here and you're laughing about me. Some widow you'd make Bradshaw." Again a fucking giggle easily escapes that man's mouth. 

"Right then if you're dying might as well get some things I've been meaning to say for a long time but never had the courage to say." He sighs and sits with his back to the door as I am also doing. A light tension fills the air. "You're a stupid bitch and I hate you. You're ugly too." 

"Right now I want you to get sick you dickhead." I lightly hit the door soon realising that hurt my whole body more than I reckoned. 

"Then open the door all you have to do is open the door and let me get my karma." His voice sounds tempting. He's got that charm that could sell the internet to an elephant. Not sure if that makes sense but I'm feeling like dumbo on wine right now so I don't really mind if my idiom makes sense or not. That man knows exactly what he's doing. Is it reverse psychology or is it gaslighting either way it's super enticing. I push myself off the floor and open the door. "Ah, a hideous monster!" He yells as I open the door. Bradley sees the upset and frustration on my face and knows I'm about to slam this door in his face. "Wait no! I'm sorry!" Allowing him to walk into our shared bedroom felt illegal to me. I keep my distance from him baking away as far as I can go before hitting the bed that stood in the centre of the room. "Am I not allowed to be near you?" I shake my head in response. 

"I'm not getting you sick dude that would fucking suck! And you're a child when you're sick so I'm not willing to play nurse. Love you, not that much." Rooster puts his hands up in a surrender-like fashion and stays where he is. His dark brown eyes scan me up and down. "Stop looking at me like that." 

"Like what?"

"Like I'm a dying puppy." My lips form into a pout. 

"I want to look after you. That's all I want. I won't come near you I promise." His fingers form into a cross behind his back.

"And how do you propose that you can look after me without coming near me." I'm sceptical about his methods.

"Get into bed." A little smile forms on his face.

"I don't see how having sex is going to help bud." Scoffs pass his lips as he has given up with my bullshit. Before I can even process what is happening his long arms have been placed onto my shoulders and pushed my back onto the mattress. A small yelp escapes my lips. "I have no energy for this." I feel the mattress consume my weight as I sink in slowly but surely. 

"Get under the duvet and I'll be back." He's off! The room is suddenly quiet as I give in to his demands and get settled under the heavy duvet which I can't decide if it's too hot or too cold for it. The first noise I hear is the fumbling noise of the cupboards and then the slamming of them. Instead of Bradley coming back to the room the front door once again opens and closes. I want to get up and see where he has gone but this bed has grown more comfortable by the second and not to my recollection my eyes start to close and I doze off. 

I don't know how long it's been while I've been sleeping but I am slowly awoken by the smell of rich chicken wafting its way from the kitchen. My eyes slowly open and I am alerted by Bradley's figure standing in the doorway. My body does a small tense reaction to his terrifying stature. "Hey, sleepysauras. Temp check!" He works his way over to my still comatose body and sticks a thermometer into my mouth. A hmmm noise comes from my chest as I feel the cool plastic on my tongue. "Okay! 101*. You, little lady, have a fever."

"That's mean." My eyes roll around my head. 

"I made cheddar broccoli soup. Just for you. Because I love you!" I stick my middle finger up at him. His laughs fill the house as he goes to fetch the amazing-smelling soup from the kitchen. The soup enters the room before he does as he is holding it out at an arm's length. "So I don't have to come near you!" Weak fake laughs come from my mouth. The tray is set on my lap and the bread is cut my way. "Even though I'm pretty sure it's a felony I cut it horizontally because you're sick and I have to spoil you." I try not to break out into a smile and or cry because it is so stinking cute. "Now eat it up."

"Yes sir, Lieutenant Bradshaw, sir!" I give him a small salute. He goes to leave, "What you're not going to spoon-feed me as well?" He stops in his tracks and does a little 180* spin on the spot. The speed of his run could be considered inhuman, he could put the flash to shame. Instead of simply walking around the bed as a normal person would, Bradley leapfrogs over my side of the bed to his side. The metal spoon is lifted from the white ceramic bowl into his hands.

"I'm going to be honest with you I have already taster tested a lot of this soup. For your protection of course." My head shakes up and down in a mocking gesture.

"My hero!" Rooster's lips move closer to the spoon, which holds the cheddar broccoli soup, and lightly blows on it. Aeroplane-like noises advance from the aviator's lips as he spoon feeds me like a child. "It's nice." Dark brown eyes squint at my choice of words. "It's delicious, Gordon Ramsey would be proud!" Pride fills his expression as he seems very impressed with his amazing cooking. As I demolish the food in front of me my stomach churns only slightly enough to make me gag but not to be physically sick. Rooster goes white as a ghost in front of me, not very well-known fact is that Roost is a huge Emetophobic. Reassurance washes over his pale complexion as he realises I wasn't going to throw up.

My anxieties of not wanting to get him sick are gone as I open up the duvet for him to get underneath with me. He willingly does so and joins our bodies together. The warmth from his body and his arm wrapped around me sends me back to sleep. 

I hope you enjoyed!

[greatbigshiningstar]

Use Somebody - Chapter 1

John Logan x OC (Carter Collins)

Summary: in which Carter gains two new roommates.

Warnings: none!

Author’s note: hey y’all!! Wow, if you would’ve told me that I’d be back writing fics about a tv show based on a book series I read when I was 15, I’d, well actually I’d probably believe you. So here I am. I’ve accidentally created a new little OC, Miss Carter Raegan Collins, because I’ve accidentally fallen in love with John Logan (again. at my big age of 22).

chapter one.

“Carter, can you take these fries to the boys at 12 for me? I’m in the middle of these drinks right now,” Hannah calls to me over the roaring noise of the full diner. It’s a cold and rainy Thursday night in November, which means that just about everyone from Briar has made their way over to Malone’s.

I shout back, “Sure thing!” while grabbing the basket from the counter. I head over to table 12, where I see the group of boys Hannah has been serving all night.

I recognize one of them as Hannah’s boyfriend, Garrett, so I assume the rest of them are his hockey teammates. Hannah has talked about them a little bit, but I haven’t been working here long enough to know anything other than the fact that they’re “the best starting line that Briar has seen in years.”

“Here are those fries! Y’all need anything else?” I smile cheerfully at the boys. The boys look up at me, and for a moment, I’m met with 4 different expressions of confusion, like I’ve interrupted some very serious hockey conversation.

“I think we’re good. Thanks, Carter,” Garrett grins at me.

“You know my name?”

He laughs. “Hannah talks about you. Good things, promise.”

“Alright, well, holler if you need anything. Hannah should be back around in a minute.”

The boy to Garrett’s left gives me a kind smile as they all reach for the fries the moment I finish my sentence, and I take that as my cue to head back towards the kitchen. The rest of the night goes by in a blur - running food, taking orders, laughing with Hannah as we can’t seem to catch a break. Finally, 10:00PM rolls around and the last customers of the night head out into the cold night.

The music gets switched over to the 2000s pop playlist that we often turn on during closing, chairs get flipped onto tables, and there’s a comfortable silence between us while we finish our closing tasks.

Hannah turns to me halfway through wiping down a menu. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask. Has your roommate situation gotten any better?”

I immediately groan. “Nope. I don’t even know where to start with that girl. She’s just, a lot, yknow.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“I know.”

“So what happened?”

I hesitate, because I hate sounding like I’m complaining. I’ve gotten really good at making things seem smaller than they are.

“It’s just little things, honestly. She leaves her stuff everywhere. She’s loud at the worst possible times. She’s constantly having people over. Sometimes, it feels like she doesn’t even acknowledge that someone else lives there.”

Hannah’s face softens. “That blows, Carter. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, really.”

She gives me a look and I immediately know I’m caught.

“You always say that.”

“Say what?”

“That something sucks and then immediately tell me it’s fine.”

I open my mouth. And then close it. Okay, rude. Accurate, but rude.

I go back to wiping down the counter, trying not to think about the fact that she’s right.

Hannah leans on the counter across from where I’m wiping. “What if… and hear me out, you move in with me and Allie next semester?”

“What?” I pause.

“We have an extra bedroom. It’s just kinda been a catch all room for us. But it would be perfect for you.”

“Are you serious, Hannah? You’re just offering me a room in your house?”

“Yeah. You hate your roommate. We have an extra room. Bam. Problem solved.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough. I know that you’re funny. I know that you’re kind. I know that you’ve been trying really hard to make friends since you first moved here.”

I don’t know why, but those words hit somewhere deeper than they should.

“I know enough”. Not everything. Not every messy detail. Not every reason I left Tennessee.

Just enough.

“I don’t want to intrude,” I say quietly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Hannah.”

“Carter.”

She looks at me seriously.

“You deserve to live somewhere you actually like coming home to.”

And for some reason, that almost makes me emotional, because it’s such a simple thing. I can’t remember the last time someone said something like that, just because they wanted me there.

“I’ll talk to Allie,” she adds.

I laugh. “You haven’t even asked her?”

“She’ll say yes.”

“You’re very confident.”

“She loves me.”

“That’s your argument?”

“Works every time.”

I shake my head, smiling.

And for the first time since I came to Briar, I feel like maybe this whole starting over thing might actually work.

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

I’ve missed my favourite writer

[greatbigshiningstar]

Use Somebody.

John Logan x OC!Carter Collins

In which Carter Collins leaves Tennessee behind to start over, learns she doesn’t have to earn a place in people’s lives, and meets the boy who will eventually show her what it feels like to be chosen.

chapters:

one: carter gets some new roommates.

two: carter moves in and meets the boy.

three: carter buys some pizza.

[saveahorserideaneddie-deactivat]

just a reminder, but this is what eddie would have looked like around the time ramon told him he had to be the man of the house

this is what eddie would have looked like when he found out he was going to be a father and made the decision to go fight in a war rather than being able to live out his youth

this is who ramon and helena based their opinions of his ability to be a good father on, and still judge him as if he’s still 20 years old and terrified of having to be a father and husband when he hadn’t even gotten a chance to live yet

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

YOURE NOT INVITED TO MY BUDDIE THEMED BIRTHDAY PARTY! Age accurate Eddie has officially killed me off

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

[lunar-years]

hello everyone here's my very late and very humble contribution to swiftie powerpoint night

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

Paris - A miniseries Jamie Tartt x F/Reader

Hi, babies I was inspired to write this mini-series because honestly, I was looking for Jamie Tartt smut and couldn't find any I was desperate. Then saw this post by @yungbludz expressing exactly how I felt. So took matters into my own hands. This is one of 3 installments leading up to you guessed it smut! Jamie Tartt, baby girl I’m sorry for what I’m gonna put you through in this series. I love you I promise.

PARIS - CHAPTER 1 (DID YOU SEE THE PHOTOS?)

Warnings for this chapter: So many swear words I’m sorry I belong on a sailors ship with my mouth most of the time, Adultery!, honestly dickhead boyfriend, I DON’T THINK THE READER SHOULD BE FEELING THIS OKAY SHE’S BEEN MANIPULATED INTO FEELING THIS! Rugby players? The sun. The media. Jack Grealish (yep he gets his own warning), talking of sex. No use of name or y/n. *Iain Stirling impression* A relationship hits the rocks.

Context: Okay so the reader is currently dating Sebastian Love a fake rugby player I’ve made. Very much inspired by that episode of Ted Lasso where Keeley and Ted have that article scare. Also, any political stances are jokes. This chapter is really short sorry. Seb is a dick.

"What the fuck?!" Sebastian yells as he slams our front door open, okay mate we get it you're a rugby player but please don't break the only entrance to our home. This could be a reaction to a bad practice or something has gone down, either way, this will come back onto me and will not end pretty.

"You alright?" I ask as he storms into the room to stand directly facing me with only the crappy coffee-stained table separating us. Stupid question, regretted asking it almost instantly but words are said and you can't rewrite them just because later on you wish it'd been something different. His eyes are so big and bright right now and not in like the way they usually are, almost doll-like in nature little shimmer, no now there was no little shimmer, no light to be seen at all in those soulless eyes. 

"You tell me. Huh? Tell me all about your new little boyfriend." His fucking teammates I swear to god they know not to wind him up it will end badly and he’ll believe it. 

"What’s happened, Seb? Tell me. You can’t come in here yelling at me, accusing me of cheating so use your words. Who would I possibly be cheating on you with?” God, I sound a bit patronising, he is a grown man, not a child.

“Okay gonna play dumb then? Let me give you a hint. Footballer, messy hair, talks like a twat.” He counts these adjectives on his fingers. Oh, surely he’s not talking about.

“I ain’t fucking Jack Grealish!” Ain’t even met the man, he is on the list though, gotta thing for footballers who I’ll never have a chance with.

“Jamie Tartt,” I BEG YOUR PARDON? Oh god, he knows I don’t know how he knows but he knows that Jamie tried to kiss me 3 months ago. I’m gonna die alone this is him breaking it off, he’s only just moved in 2 weeks ago.

“I ain’t fucking him either! You need to stop listening to guys on your team y’know they’re doing it to wind you up.” 

“Explain this then.” He dramatically slams down a newspaper with the front page displaying the headline ‘SEBASTIAN'S LOVE NOW JAMIE’S TARTT’ This is the Sun. Aka one of the most biased shithole of a paper. I say these exact words to him. “Oh so you’re calling me stupid now are you?” I don’t like this. This isn’t a comfortable feeling. I want him to leave. “You gonna say anything bitch?”

“Get out.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“What?” His voice is the polar opposite of mine, ear drum bursting, heartbreaking.

"I said get out. If you want to choose to believe this newspaper instead of your actual girlfriend then I choose to kick you out."

"But I live here." Hah, not for long.

"For like 2 weeks, you haven't even got to help out with rent yet so really you have no jurisdiction here" Big word for me. "So get out or I won't hesitate to call the sun up and say so much worse." I redact my comment earlier he is a child as he storms out with a pout on his face and a huff. "I'll drop your stuff off on Friday." A little wave goodbye and a door slam later and I am on the sofa shell shocked.

He was a dick. Like damn, I stayed with him for 2 and a half years and he's only just moved in? That was a red flag. I just feel stupid for delaying it this long and letting this be the final straw.

Tonight. Who needs a man when I can read porn and drink wine.

6 glasses of wine and a message from Jamie Tartt reading ‘Drinks tonight?’ later and well you’ll have to wait to hear the rest.

A/N:

Holy crap I did it, I know its short but this is just a buildup to the good shit. And what fanfic of mine would it be if it didn’t relate just the tiniest bit back to Taylor Swift. Well I hope to see you again when I update next which will hopefully be Friday! Glad you read. If you have any critics or stuff you think would be cool to add either comment of dm me I want as many minds on this as possible. 

AL

[peaceoutyall-deactivated2024042]

Bob and mommy 😏

@sylviebell thanks for the ask! It’s not what you think it’s going to be…everyone have your tissues ready!

Here Comes the Sun

Written for my 100 celly!

Pairing: Robert Floyd x wife reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, terminal illness, typos likely (written in my notes app), seriously have tissues ready (I cried writing this)

One of the best parts of Bob Floyd’s day was picking up his daughter from school. Listening to all the tidbits the kindergartener learned, the playground drama, what Miss K brought in for snack that day. He loved how her eyes twinkled, just like her momma’s when she really got going about something.

But after he dismissed his own class, he turned on his phone to see a text from Fanboy’s fiancé, who taught second grade across the hall from Miss K.

Bad day. Have the CD ready.

His heart sank, wondering what could’ve gone wrong. His little sweetpea was the line leader that day and she was so excited when her pappy Mav took her to school that morning.

Bob drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of his old truck. His lip was chewed raw on the short drive from the base. He watched as a sea of grade schoolers rushed from the doors; many of them ran with large pink cards to their loved ones. He closed his eyes and sighed. Mother’s Day was on Sunday. He felt his shoulders sag as he slipped out from his truck. They had an extra stop to make on their way home. He brushed the gold band on his left hand subconsciously.

He watched as Miss K chased after one of the boys in her class, wondering where his little trouble maker was. But as soon as he started to panic, the future Mrs. Garcia walked out with her on her hip.

“There’s my sweetpea,” he said with a smile.

Her arms untethered quickly, reaching out for him. His heart skipped a beat at these moments. He tried to sear them into his memory, knowing she wouldn’t always want his affection.

“Hi sweetpea,” he whispered as she buried herself in his neck.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, ignoring the sad look in the teacher’s eyes.

“What’d you do today, honey?” He had her in her carseat quickly.

“We made stupid cards,” his six year old hissed.

“Oh sweetpea,” he sighed. He felt so deflated. Neither of you wanted her to hate Mother’s Day. He pulled away from the curb, stealing glances at her through the rearview mirror.

He turned up the volume on the CD the two of you had made for her. The opening chords of “Here Comes the Sun” filled the cab, tearing a hole in his heart. You’d recorded a few songs on the guitar for your daughter to have. There were others on it, but this song was your favorite. Your mom always sang it to you and Bob knew how important it was that you sang it to your daughter.

“Daddy, why do all the other kids have mommies and I don’t?” She finally huffed from the backseat.

Bob couldn’t help but smile at her pout. She looked just like her momma.

“But you do have a mommy, sweetpea,” he said gently. “That’s her singing the sun song.”

“But why can’t I see her, daddy?” She whined. “It’s not fair.”

“Honey,” he sighed. “Mommy was sick, remember?”

He watched as a single tear slipped down her sweet innocent cheek. His heart broke at the sight.

He cleared his throat. “Did you make Grammy Penny and Aunty Tash cards?”

He turned down the small access road he knew like the back of his hand. His eyes flitted back to his daughter when she didn’t say anything.

“I made a card for Mommy,” she whispered.

That broke him.

Thankfully the drive to the cemetery wasn’t very long. He pulled off the road once he reached the right marker. Sobs wracked his body, tears falling faster and faster. When you promised him he would be a great father, even after you were gone, he never anticipated conversations like these. He thought the two of you had a lifetime when you first met, but it was a short one. When they told you the cancer had come back after they ran some prenatal bloodwork, he assumed there was something they could do. But you were stubborn. You didn’t trust the options they were giving you, not when you had a little miracle growing in your belly. You both agreed kids were not on the agenda, especially with your medical history, but your sweetpea had other plans. So you chose to protect your little surprise over yourself. The most selfless choice of all. You spent countless nights trying to get him ready for a life without you, a life with her. Those nine months were both joyous and dismally upsetting for him. He would have a piece of you forever, but his life with you was coming to an end.

“Daddy?” His daughter asked cautiously from her carseat.

“Yes, sweetpea?” He sniffled.

“Pappy Mav says it’s okay to miss her,” she said softly. “And Unky Birdy and Unky Hangy tell me to sing the sun song when I really miss her.”

As if on cue, your sweet voice came out from the speakers telling him it was alright. Your little angel started singing along from the backseat. He was crying even harder.

When his tears slowed, Bob turned to the back seat. Sweetpea was smiling, nose crinkled just like yours. The instant he unclasped her seatbelt she was climbing from the back and into his lap. She wiped away some stray tears from his cheeks.

“Let me see this card,” he sniffled.

It was a card-stock heart with three figures on it. Here comes the sun, written on the top.

“That’s you,” she explained. “That’s me.” She paused. “And that’s mommy.” She pointed to the stick figure with wings.

He kissed the top of her strawberry blonde locks, squeezing her tight.

“She’s going to love it,” he beamed. “Want to go give it to her?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, simply killing the engine before maneuvering the two of them out of the truck. He focused on his daughter as he walked through the rows of headstones. He could make his way to you in the dead of night if he needed to. You still had a pull on him like no one else.

“Daddy, will I get a new mommy?” His daughter asked.

“No, honey,” he chuckled. You told him to be happy and if that meant moving on, so be it. But no one could ever make him as happy as you did. “Mommy was the only one for me and that’s okay.” He paused at the last headstone in the row. You were close to a big tree with a bench. He used to come out and watch the ocean from that bench, wanting to be close to you.

“Give Mommy your card, sweetpea,” he encouraged, kneeling down.

“I love you, Mommy,” she cooed before placing a soft kiss on the cool marble. She turned to him, lip pouting. “Can I go sit on the bench?”

He chuckled, nodding.

“Just stay where I can see you, please,” he instructed.

He watched until she was firmly planted on the bench before he turned back to you. Tears pooling in his eyes again as he traced the letters of your name. He let his left hand rest on the cool marble, his ring sparking in the sun.

“I know I’m early for date night darlin’,” he teased, “but she had a bad day.”

He stole another quick glance at your mini-me.

“She’s so much like you,” he laughed. “She has your eyes, your hair. She even has your stubborn attitude.” He paused, shaking his head. “She has those guitar lessons on Monday. I’m hoping she likes it. Maybe she can use your mom’s guitar just like you did.” He wiped at the teats falling down his cheeks. “I miss you so much, darlin’. I love you with all my heart and so does our little sweetpea. I wish you would’ve gotten more than a month with her. I wish you could see her now. See how much she has your uncle Mav and the squad wrapped around her finger. See how she’s changing.” He looked up to see her chasing a butterfly, a small smile filling his lips. “She sang your song to me today…told me she sings it when she really misses you.” He sucked in a harsh breath. “I hope I’m raising her right. Hope you’re proud of us, wherever you are.”

“Daddy,” his little girl cried.

He looked up to see that the butterfly had landed on her nose.

“We’ll be back soon, momma,” he whispered, resting his forehead on your headstone. “I think we’re going to have your favorite for dinner.” He closed his eyes, smiling. “I love you,” he whispered before standing.

The butterfly was still perched on his sweetpea’s nose and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was you.

“What do you say to cinnamon rolls for dinner?” He asked sitting next to her.

“Like Mommy made?” She asked excitedly.

“Of course,” he smiled.

She grabbed his hand, tugging harshly. She lead them back to your headstone, pausing to pat your name once before dragging him towards the truck.

He didn’t realize he had begun humming somewhere between the tree and the truck, but all he could hear was your beautiful voice in his ear singing “Here Comes the Sun.”

Tagging anyone who might be interested: @xcastawayherosx @bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @ereardon @sebsxphia @seresinhangmanjake @a-reader-and-a-writer @yanna-banana

A/n: This one goes out to anyone else with the big C 😘

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

I need 3-5 business days away from anyone please

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

Thank you internet sex bots for getting me to 50 followers. I don’t want to sleep with you, but I honour you with this post.

[mp3zombiegirl]

Spencer reid is so hot like y’all-

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

Agreed.

[bobfloydsbabe]

Happy almost birthday my darling,

Here’s my idea for a hangman blurb…

Jake remembering Jas’ coffee order after hearing it once. Just stops off at a local coffee shop and immediately thinks of her and gets her exact order just to make her happy. It makes my heart swell thinking that he subconsciously just knows what to do to make her, her.

❤️ - Leah

Leah, hi! First, thank you for the birthday wish and for participating in blurb night. This prompt is perfect for Jas and Jake, and I sincerely hope you love it!

morning coffee

SUMMARY: Jake stops by Jas' office with coffee.

WARNINGS: None. It's pure fluff.

WORD COUNT: ~0.6k

It was the early morning hours before the Californian heat truly set in when Jake stepped into the small local coffee shop, hidden on a narrow side street away from the busy main road.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” Diane, the elderly owner who always smiled and wore bright pink lipstick, greeted when she saw him.

“It’s Jake to you, ma’am,” he replied, offering her his most dashing smile.

She laughed. “Such a charmer,” she commented, and took half a step through the doorway to the back to shout for her granddaughter to make coffee. Diane didn’t know how to work the espresso machine.

“Morning, Beth,” he said when the young woman came to the front, looking like she’d pulled three all-nighters in a row. She probably did.

She nodded in greeting. “Your usual?”

“Yes,” he said, glancing at the pastries lining the display. The entire shop smelt like melted butter, vanilla, and fresh coffee, making his mouth water. “Can I get a hazelnut cappuccino as well, please?”

Beth hummed her acknowledgement while Diane raised a brow. “For someone special?”

Jake laughed, his mind wandering back to the bed he’d left two hours earlier; a sea of unruly auburn hair splashed across the white sheets. “That’s one way to put it.”

Diane hummed, fixing him with a skeptical glance, but remained silent. She disappeared into the back at the sound of a timer, likely to take out a batch of croissants he would sometimes indulge in, but not today. He needed to go back to base.

Beth came to the counter with two to-go cups in her hands, one with HC on the side, so he knew which was which. “Here you go,” she said and handed them over. “Your girl has a great coffee order.”

Jake laughed again, placing a few bills on the counter before accepting the cups and taking a small sip of his. “She’s not my girl,” he protested. “But thank you. Keep the change and tell your Gran I said bye.”

“You got it.”

Jake arrived back on base, heading straight for the infirmary where he knew Jas was on her first hour of the day shift. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and immediately spotted Jas coming out of her office with her nose buried in a folder of hard-copy records. As he approached, the head nurse clocked him.

“Your boy toy’s here,” she said, accepting the folder from Jas whose brows furrowed. Jas turned her head and audibly groaned upon seeing him, eyes disappearing into the back of her head for a moment.

“Morning, Doc,” he greeted, then turned his attention to the head nurse, who leveled him with skeptical eyes. “Martha.”

She grumbled her reply before getting up and walking away, likely to check on patients or some other task he wasn’t privy to.

He turned his attention back to Jas, whose hair was tied in a tight Navy-standard bun at the nape of her neck, clad in dark blue scrubs, and her white lap coat with her name on it. Under the fluorescent lights, her blue eyes looked almost electric.

“What are you doing here, Seresin?”

“To give you this,” he said, offering the cup in his left hand.

She accepted it with narrowed eyes, but raised it to her lips and took a sip. He watched surprise and shock overtake her features as she lowered the cup and looked from it to him.

“How did you know my coffee order?”

He shrugged. “You told Bob a couple of weeks ago.”

Jas took another sip, still looking like she didn’t believe him. “And you remembered?”

Jake snorted and sipped his own coffee, offering Jas a wide grin. “It’s not a complicated order,” he said and tapped his cup against hers. “See you later, Doc.”

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

Check out this adorable blurb written by this amazing author ❤️

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

Why haven’t I seen any dagger squad during the World Cup fics? Maybe I’ll just have to write it myself. Even better dagger squad x British reader to commemorate the recent UK vs US game. Hmmmm…

[callsign-jinx-deactivated202502]

Bob Floyd.

That's it.

That's the post.

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

I agree.

[sunsetsunfower]

Nobody

Bob

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

I want to treat him so nicely! And I want him to treat me like the bitch I am!

[kloofspeaks-deactivated20250818]

Questioning how the dagger squad would get arrested.

Bob - Murdering a family of three (It's always the quiet ones)

Rooster - Speeding (He lives a cars one and three life on the daily)

Phoenix - Arson (Now this makes sense)

Hangman - probably a bar fight or something, stabbing someone in the eye with a toothpick sounds like something he would do also.

Fanboy - Tax evasion

Coyote - Breaking out hangman from prison

Payback - Nothing, he's actually the responsible one.

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

I plead guilty to all these crimes and am the only one who committed them. I do however ask for several conjugal visits a month.

[babyrooster]

[3tabbiesandalab-deactivated2024]

Something Out of a 90’s Rom Com

Hi All! Sometime in the last couple of week I made it past 500 followers! A big thanks to all of you who are reading, liking, commenting and reposting my fics! It means the world to me that you enjoy them so thank you!

So here we are back with another Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Reader

Based on Bob’s love for love and 90’s rom coms (a little nod to Lewis’s dad Bill). It’s a bit unbelievable and stupid but aren’t all of those movies!

I was tagged in @jostystyles top tracks writing challenge to celebrate 2.6K. Congrats! My prompt was “I’m in love, accidently in love” from Accidently in love by the Counting Crows.

No real warnings I don’t think. A bit of swearing, ejection from a jet and just pure fluffy goodness!

Here’s my masterlist if you want to read other things I write!

I hope you enjoy xox

Keep reading

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

This is the cutest thing, from the childhood friends to Hangman being an annoying twat. While you were sleeping is my mums favourite 90s rom com and she has the biggest crush on Bill Pullman. Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, cos now I have the fattest crush on his son!