bobfloydsbabe

[bobfloydsbabe]

why is it that whenever i have plans of any kind, i get a rosacea flare-up? i look like i’ve in a sauna for a year.

[bobfloydsbabe]

Send me a 🖋️ and I will add one sentence to my wip and reply with it

[bobfloydsbabe]

yeah.

[bobfloydsbabe]

So cute! It’s not lame, Bobby, it’s funny 😍

for you, darling: 🖋️🖋️🖋️

Since I was so delayed in answering this, here are three paragraphs! This is from Wrong Number, during one of Bob and Rosie's (reader's nickname) many conversations!

How so? Is there no utterly embarrassing story behind it?” You teased. Bob didn't mind, in fact, it filled his body with a sense of lightness. Something he hasn't felt in years.

“So the truth is, when you do training to be a pilot or WSO in the navy, you have to practice swimming. As well as landing in water because if you have to do an emergency ejection, it's very likely you'll land in water. So we practice jumping in with all our gear on and when it was my turn, I just…bobbed in the water. Like some sort of buoy.”

“And that's why your callsign is Bob?”

He sighed, “I know it's pretty lame.”

Send me a 🖋️ and I'll write a paragraph for my WIP and share!

[bobfloydsbabe]

Put 2 celebrities in my ask,

based only on physical appearance, I’ll tell you who I prefer.

[bobfloydsbabe]

Put 2 celebrities in my ask,

based only on physical appearance, I’ll tell you who I prefer.

[bobfloydsbabe]

does anyone want a uterus? i'm trying to rehome mine.

[bobfloydsbabe]

my top posts going hard right now

[bobfloydsbabe]

[bobfloydsbabe]

reblog to give the prev a hot chocolate with (optional) whipped cream and marshmallows

[bobfloydsbabe]

Honestly, I’m really enjoying writing for them again!!

✒️🥰

My beloved Fe, for you I wrote a sentence from the blurb you requested for blurb night. Jake and Jas, but he's the only playing doctor. Kind of. Not like that, though. Enjoy!

this might sting a little

“I can do it myself,” she argues, reaching for the wipe, but he pulls it away before she can grab it. “Jake!”

send a ✒️ and i'll write a sentence for a WIP

[bobfloydsbabe]

I aim to please 😎

🖋️😘

Rebecca, darling, for you I have some Professor Bob and Imogen. He overhears a conversation that puts him on edge and makes the green-eyed monster rear its ugly head. Enjoy!

if they could see you now (working title)

“Imogen,” a male voice says in the corridor, making Bob lift his head to glance through his open office door. “Do you have a minute?”

send a 🖋️ and i'll write a sentence for a WIP

[bobfloydsbabe]

✒️🥰

My beloved Fe, for you I wrote a sentence from the blurb you requested for blurb night. Jake and Jas, but he's the one playing doctor. Kind of. Not like that, though. Enjoy!

this might sting a little

“I can do it myself,” she argues, reaching for the wipe, but he pulls it away before she can grab it. “Jake!”

send a ✒️ and i'll write a sentence for a WIP

[bobfloydsbabe]

🖋️😘

Rebecca, darling, for you I have some Professor Bob and Imogen. He overhears a conversation that puts him on edge and makes the green-eyed monster rear its ugly head. Enjoy!

if they could see you now (working title)

“Imogen,” a male voice says in the corridor, making Bob lift his head to glance through his open office door. “Do you have a minute?”

send a 🖋️ and i'll write a sentence for a WIP

[bobfloydsbabe]

🖋️❣️

I just had to write something for the blurb for your holiday event. Nothing else would do. Enjoy the beginning of Rhett's lack of gift wrapping ability. He tries, bless him.

wrap me up (working title)

Rhett comes into view as she walks to the couch, and so does an explosion of wrapping paper, ribbons, tape, and what looks suspiciously like silver glitter stars. “What are you doing?”

send a 🖋️ and i'll write a sentence for a WIP

[bobfloydsbabe]

Send me a 🖋️ and I will add one sentence to my wip and reply with it

[bobfloydsbabe]

FOREVER IN LOVE WITH THE FLOYD FAM!!!

happy little accidents | r.b.f x ofc

a/n: yeah I'm never gonna be done with these cuties. As always, thank you for reading. Please like, comment, and reblog. My work is 18+, MDNI. Don't repost my work yada yada yada fritata ☺️

Summary: summer storms and rocket pops (that's not a euphemism) and sweet Floyd family snuggles

Zak woke to Bob’s head resting on her thigh, Bowie’s feet in her face, and Joey tucked against her side. Thunder shook the house while lightning briefly illuminated the basement. The storm had knocked out the power, taking the AC with it. So the Floyds camped out down in the basement where it was at least a few degrees cooler. But growing a human gave her hot flashes and the cuddle puddle on the air mattress was not helping. It felt like she was lying in a pool of sweat and Bob was basically a human space heater. And both her babies took after their father in that respect.

Replacing her leg with a pillow under Bob’s head, Zak slid off the air mattress and stood, trying to stretch. Baby number three was a bit of a surprise. Bowie just turned five and Joey was almost three and they’d finally cleared out all of the baby clutter. No more highchair, crib, diapers, or bottles. But life just loved to throw her curveballs. Now she was five-ish months along and due on Halloween of all days.

But mid-June in San Diego? Miserable. Sleeping on an air mattress? Miserable.

She heard Joey stirring and carefully moved her closer to Bob. She was a cuddle bug just like her dad and normally Zak loved soaking up the baby snuggles but less so when she was stiff and overheated.

With the power outage, they tried to use their devices sparingly in case of emergency, but she picked up her phone to check the time anyway. Just after two am. The weather report showed the storm would be moving on in the next hour or so but there was no word from the electric company as to when power might be restored.

Since everything in her freezer was thawing anyway, Zak headed up to the kitchen for a popsicle. She tried not to linger with the door open for too long but the cold air felt so good. She sighed and grabbed one of the rocket pops left over from Bowie’s birthday, easing the freezer door closed as quietly as she could.

“Momma?”

Shit.

Bowie stood at the top of the stairs rubbing his eyes, stuffed pig lovie under his arm and glasses dangling from his hand. Zak grabbed a second popsicle.

“C’mon, Buddy.” She held out her hand, “Have a treat with me.”

Putting his glasses on, Bowie took her hand and followed her out to the screened-in porch. The air outside was sticky and humid, but somehow cooler than the basement. The emergency yard lights were running, giving them just enough light to see into the backyard. Zak sat on the damp, cushioned love-seat and patted the space next to her for her son to climb up. When he got settled, she opened a popsicle and passed it to him before opening her own.

Rain pounded on the roof and flooded the backyard. Anything that could hold water - the sandbox, the baby pool, Joey’s kitchenette sink - was filled to the brim. Toys in the sandbox and the baby pool floated around, rocking on the water each time thunder boomed.

Bowie nestled into her side, hands and face sticky from the rocket pop melting down his arm. Zak didn’t mind, though. It reminded her of when he was small - well, smaller - and stuck to her side like glue. Somewhere around two-and-a-half his clinginess lessened so she would take these moments wherever she could.

“Momma?”

“Yes, baby?”

“When I grow up, I wanna be a rocket man.”

“A rocket man?” She mused, “Like daddy or like an astronaut?”

He thought for a moment, blue eyes wide behind his glasses. He was due for a new pair soon; the band keeping them on his head was in its loosest setting. She smiled softly, remembering the day he first got glasses. He’d only been a few months old, but they’d known shortly after he was born he would need them.

“Can I be both?”

“Don’t see why not. You can be anything you want.”

“Cool.”

-&-

She didn’t remember falling asleep. But she gasped awake with an awful crick in her neck and a gross taste in her mouth. Damp and sweaty and sticky. And no Bowie at her side. The storm had finally passed and the sun was rising. In a few hours it would be too hot to even think about being outside.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” Bob whispered, Bowie passed out on his shoulder.

“It’s okay.” She said hoarsely, “Where’s Joey?”

“In her bed. The power’s back on.”

“Oh. Good. That’s good.”

She wanted a lukewarm shower and to lay down on her own bed with the fans at their highest setting.

Zak tried to stand but the love seat was worse for sleeping on than the air mattress. Bob held out a hand and she took it gratefully, letting him haul her up to her feet. He held on until she was steady and then swatted her gently on the ass as he followed her inside.

“Careful, sailor. That’s how we wound up with three kids.”

“And I wouldn't change a thing.”