#Lance sweets imagine

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

I was wondering if you could write headcanons for the Bone Boys as dads. ( you can pick one or multiple) (ie. Seeley, Jack, Lance, Zack, or any of the squinterns) I loved your hodgins fic sm <3 take your time!!! Thank you!!!

Oh, I love you for asking this 💕Any opportunity to write for my Jeffersonian family. And my squinterns? You didn't have to ask twice. If anyone want a part 2 let me know. I didn’t include a bunch of squints or my boy Aubrey

Seeley - over protective, caring, goofy, stern, willing to do whatever he needs to to make his kid happy. I mean, just look at Parker - that kid turned out so well adjusted and happy. Booth just loves him to pieces - and Christine? Apple of his eye. Any kid this man has will want for nothing and know nothing but pure unrelenting love. Sunday afternoons of throwing a baseball around - I don't care what gender, any child of Booth will know how to throw a curve ball. And the hockey games? Oh, the kid(s) will be wearing Flyers jerseys before they can walk.

Lance - we were robbed. Robbed of seeing this beautiful man raising a child. Sweets would be such a good dad too. Caring, affectionate, understanding, patient, hilarious, and with one disappointed look have his kids in line apologizing.

Oh, I could just imagine the first few weeks of sleepless nights. Lance, being so excited, but also so terrified of messing up. He knows what its like to have shitty people looking after you, and he'd never want to be that way. But he also knows what it's like to have two loving (amazing) people take care of him and love him with unconditional love.

This of course, would cause him to take the brunt of the middle of the night feedings/check-ins. Lance, sitting in a rocking chair, softly singing Coconut by Harry Nilsson. It's no surprise when the kid knows all the words before they know the alphabet fully.

Just, ugh, nothing but love and laughter.

Any child of Jack's will be showered with affection, over the top gifts (what do you mean a thousand dollar playhouse is too much? It has a fully functional kitchen and a mini lab!), and a love and appreciation for all the beautiful things around them (bugs and all).

"Whose my little prince/princess of the lab?"

Jack would realize his mistake during the preteen phase. "Honestly, I don't know where the sarcasm is coming from. They're too quick for their own good." This of course, would be met with eye rolls, and really? No DNA test needed here. King of the Lab? More like King of Sass.

Jack would love to take the kid(s) to the lab. "This is a Carabidae, they belong to the Adephaga." He'd love to see their little faces light up with wonder. He'd never feel more elated then hearing the little giggles when he puts the beetle into his kids tiny waiting hand.

Wendell would be the sweetest most down to Earth dad. No child of Wendell's would ever know what it means to struggle - not if he had anything to say about it. That doesn't mean his kids wouldn't know the meaning of hard work - that's the one thing Wendell prides himself in. Working hard and knowing you deserved to be there.

Considering his own mother induced labor on a roller coaster, I'm sure Wendell would be there for unconventional methods. His kids would also know how to defend themselves - verbal and physically (No one would ever talk down to his kids and get away with it. And boxers fracture? His kids would know how to throw a punch and mean it - "only if they deserve it, you can't just go around just starting fights with anybody."

His favorite memory would be the first time he took his kid(s) onto the rink. Seeing them persevere and keep going until they got the hang of it - "That's right, you got it!"

Wendell would raise his kids to be prepared for absolutely anything. Car broke down? They would know how to fix the engine. Someone broke their heart? Cry, feel it all, then take a deep breath and keep going. Because no matter what - he'll always be there to back them up.

Vincent would be a dotting dad. A little over the top, but that's why his kids would love him. Any child of Vincent's would know more random facts than any other five year old. The calls from the kindergarten teacher would always be...interesting. "Yes, yes, I can see why talking about the amount of insect legs found in chocolate would be upsetting to the other children."

That of course would not and could not stop him from prattling out more facts every night. Facts were his love language - his bonding time. Every night, without fail, he'd tuck his little one into bed, rambling about any random thought that popped into his head until his child fell asleep.

Colin, sweet morbid hopeless Colin. Would have no idea what to do with a child until one evening when he hasn't sleep for four days straight - he can barely see, his mind and body more fuzzy than normal.

He's looking hopelessly at his baby in his arms, "What? what do you need from me?" His voice growing more weary and desperate. Until he see's it, a smile - then a small gurgle that could be mistaken for laughter. "Oh, you like that, huh, my misery?" He's welcomed by another gurgle and big beautiful eyes blinking slowly back at him. He feels it then - the warmth- the happiness creeping up in his bones. He's got a shot now - at something he never thought about before.

Oh, his kid wants to paint his nails? Sure, he's always got the time, and maybe some tips, a little sloppy on the corner there. It's okay- you're only six we'll get you there, kid.

Colin would be the type of dad to always complain about being dragged to something, but he would secretly love it. Sappy teen movie playing in the background? No, he's not interested. He's just going to stand here for 30 minutes eyes glued to the screen. No, he doesn't want to sit down. Wait- rewind - what are they arguing about? He missed it.

Colin would have a little mini me - both the complete opposite of him and so similar it was scary. His little partner in crime.

Zack would like to think he knows exactly what he's doing but he has no idea. He buys every parenting book known to man. Spends hours of research looking up different child development theories.

No, the baby did not in fact laugh. It's only been a month, a baby can't laugh until at least 5 months. He states that firmly until the next few days when Zack swears up and down he made the baby laugh doing an impression of Hodgins. I know I said that, but perhaps the baby just has my intelligence and early development.

Zack will be there front row and center for every recital, game, or event. Doesn't matter if he has no idea what the rules are or what is going on. He'll be there cheering from the side lines.

His favorite afternoon snack to make? Macaroni and cheese.

Zack is just happy to have made his family a little bit bigger. He never thought he'd be proud of anything outside of the Jeffersonian, but he was happily proven wrong everyday.

[taylorsfolkmoredress]

title: never wanna make you cry

wc: 2.3k

summary: Lance, after a tough week at work, takes his frustrations out on you.

tags: angst and hurt/comfort, mean lance :( he apologizes a lot though, Flashbacks, panic attacks, unsafe decisions. vagueish descriptions of past abuse. :((( im in a very unfortunate mood and using fic to cope!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You hated fighting with Lance. You hated it with anybody, really, but Lance specifically always hurts the most.

Maybe it was your childhood. Maybe it was the love you held for him. Maybe it was because you fought so rarely that each one seemed monumental.

You didn’t know the reason for hating it, you just knew you did.

It‘s a stupid fight. He’s been stressed about work all week, each day made up of early mornings and late nights. You don’t blame him for the distance, you understand. His job is difficult in so many ways you could never imagine. You’d never be upset at him for being stressed.

You could, and would, however, be upset at him for taking that stress out on you.

It starts as a small comment, something you could brush off fairly easily, excuse it as his patience with the world finally slipping, his filter going with it. He’d asked why the house was so dirty. And that would normally be fine, except… the house was tidy. The kitchen was a bit dirty because you’d just finished cooking, but the rest of the house was spotless. His tone also left something to be desired. He sounds annoyed, expectant. Like cleaning the house is your job, and you’d somehow failed miserably.

It causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end. You keep a careful hold on your expression, and give him a measured smile in return.

“I had to make dinner, Love. You know I always clean the dishes after we eat.” You try to keep your tone light, but you see his face twitch, and your voice falters. You try not to let it show on your face, but internally, you have to remind myself that he is not your father. You remind myself he won’t scream in your face and throw whatever’s closest. He won’t hurt you.

“Well it’s disgusting! I see horrible things all day and you think I want to come home to a disgusting house too?” His voice raises with every word, and by the end he’s slamming his palms on the table in front of him.

It’s almost comical, the scene in front of you. It seems to be taken straight out of a 1950’s television show. The man you loved was yelling at you for not doing something right. He’s angry, one step away from violent, and suddenly you feel simultaneously like the person you are, a scared person trying desperately to hold back tears, and the person you once were, a child with nowhere to run and a father with a temper.

Time feels frozen as he stares at you. You see his eyes flick over your face, down your body. You see him take in your barely concealed fear, your tense arms that bear the weight of your entire body. You see realization stutter across his face, followed faster by regret and remorse. He steps away from the table, shaking his head and holding his hands up. He looks almost scared, you think, and you nearly laugh at the absurdity. Here is a man, who may not look like it, but is significantly stronger than you, who just yelled in your face, and for some reason he looks scared.

You only realize when you’ve stared at him for longer than necessary, but he’s speaking. He’s saying something and his brows are pitching forward in concern, and he’s slowly walking towards you. Without any idea what’s happening, that small child inside you finds their opening, and you run. You don’t know where you’re running to, but you know you need to get far. Your feet carry you out the door, personal belongings forgotten in your haste.

The ground beneath you is cold and wet, and the gravel hurts your unprotected feet, but you don’t care. You run as far as your feet will take you, making twists and turns until you end up at your favorite park. It’s got a fun structure for the children in the main area, but the back is an open forest. You know it’s irrational, you know it’s so incredibly unsafe, and you’ll probably regret it in the morning, but right now all you can do is run into the dark expanse before you.

You’ve always fallen more on the flight side of ‘fight or flight’, but you knew this was further than you’d ever gone. Maybe it’s because Lance is the once person you could never even imagine yelling at you, or maybe it’s because you haven’t slept well in a few days. You don’t know, but what you do know is that your legs burn. Your feet are covered in small knick’s and cuts, and your chest feels like it’s moments away from collapse.

There’s a large tree in front of you, something that can easily hide you, and you dive behind it. Now that you’ve finally stopped running, your thoughts- flashbacks being a much more accurate term- become more clear. It’s not just one event that made you run, not just one trauma that decided to rear its ugly head. It was all of them. Every way you’d been hurt in your life came forward all at once, and you felt like a collapsing star.

You know logically that Lance is probably freaking out. He’s definitely realized you have no phone, and he’s probably seen your shoes still stashed by the door. Your coat is there with it, and that thought helps the biting cold in the air to set in. Your arms don’t do much to help but you wrap them around your bare legs anyways. You really weren’t dressed for the cold, and you were beginning to regret not grabbing your coat at the very least. Shivers overwhelm your body and your teeth nearly being chattering. You really did not expect it to be this cold out.

Your brain wouldn’t let you go home, not yet. Not with adrenaline still coursing through your veins and the memory of hands and fists clouding your better judgment. Instead, you laid down, curling into yourself as much as possible. You knew you shouldn’t sleep, it was dangerous for so many reasons, but the cold was making you tired, and your whole body hurt. You were so tired so suddenly and a nap seemed like a wonderful idea.

———————————————————————————

You were woken up by voices hours later. You didn’t immediately recognize them, but after a few moments you could recognize your name being yelled. You were so cold, but you tried to call out, to let whoever had come to find you know that you were right here. Your voice sounded weak when you spoke. You sounded small, frail, and it took so much energy. You think, somehow, you may be more tired now than when you fell asleep.

Thankfully, your cries were heard. Leaves rustle and twigs snap as someone- multiple someones? You can’t tell, but it sounds like too many footsteps for just one person- rushes towards you. Warm hands wrap around your arms and pull you into an even warmer chest. You can feel whoever is holding you shaking. At first, you think they are cold too, they must be, they’re shivering. It isn’t until you hear Lance’s broken sob of your name that you realize what’s actually happening.

Lance is sobbing into your hair, hiccuped gasps of your name tearing from his lips and squeezing your heart. His hands hold you tighter than they ever have before, and you almost choke with a feeling you can’t name.

It’s only when his hands gently turn you to look at him that you register his words.

“-orry, please, please, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean any of it I swear! You’re everything to me please, please don’t leave me, I won’t ever lose my temper like that again!” His words are frantic, and his sobs make him hard to understand, but you can feel the regret pouring from his lips.

As he speaks, you think about the night before. You think about how scared you were, and every memory the tormented you. You think about the intense need to flee you had felt. Part of you wants to leave. It wants to make him cry and beg and still it wants you to leave.

But a much bigger part, one that adored Lance Sweets entirely, wanted to stay. It wanted to wrap him up and hold him close and stop his tears.

You knew you had to find a happy medium, one where this wasn’t simple swept aside, but it also wasn’t held onto forever. That journey starts with you carefully turning around is his arms, making sure to never break his hold on you.

What you saw shocked you. His eyes and cheeks were red and puffy in a way that told you he’d been crying for hours. His lips were chapped and swollen, obviously bitten raw from worry. His hair was messier than you’d ever seen it, and his hands were pale and obviously cold. You could see the regret and worry in every little thing you noticed, and you threw all sense of a plan out the window.

Your arms are around his neck before he knows what’s happening, and you can feel him squeeze you tighter while he lets out another choked sob. When you pull back to watch him for a moment, he takes a deep breath before speaking. His breath hitches, but he doesn’t let it deter him.

“I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do at first, I could see the fear on your face and it broke me out of what ever stupidity I’d been stuck in. You”- He cuts himself off with a hiccup, new tears filling his eyes as he recalls the night before- “you looked so scared, so fragile, and I realized I caused that. I was the bastard that put that look on your face. When I tried to talk to you, to fix it, you wouldn’t respond. When I moved forward, I swear I wasn’t going to hurt you, I wasn’t. I just wanted to hold you, to try to get that terrified look off your face so I could apologize. When you ran, I froze. I didn’t know what to do, and god,” He laughs now, humorless and dry. “You run fast. Your shoes and coat at the door made me worry even more, so I tried to call you. When your phone rang upstairs it felt like a bucket of ice was thrown over me. I realized you were out there, all alone and cold, with no protection. I ran out to follow you and called everyone, hoping they could help me find you before something happened.”

The hiccups slow as he speaks, disappearing completely by the end. he looks entirely worn out, but the lines of stress that covered his face before are gone.

He continues without prompting, probably to fill the space, but even more so in an attempt to prove his care for you. He doesn’t need to, of course. Now that the adrenaline has worn off and you’re able to think clearly, you don’t blame him. You don’t excuse what he did, but you’re not angry or scared anymore. You listen though, knowing he won’t even begin to feel ok until he’s gotten to apologize properly.

“I knew you loved this park, and I knew it was because of the forest. When we first started dating, you’d come here after every fight with your father. I knew, or hoped I suppose, that you’d be here. You ran so far in that it took me hours to find you. Angela came too but she went to the car when I found you. She wanted to give us some privacy.” He’s quiet for a moment then, but he continues, much quieter than before. “It’s so cold out here, I was so scared. When I saw you laying here, completely still and curled up, I thought the worst. I was so scared to touch you, so scared I wouldn’t feel anything.”

He doesn’t continue, and you don’t need him to. you can feel the fear in his voice. You bring a shaky hand up and gently cup his cheeks. Your fingers must be cold because he frowns and grabs your hands, curling his own fingers around them to warm you up. He moves your hands into his jacket and uses his now free hands to pick you up, quickly taking you to his car to warm you up properly.

When you’re safely tucked into the car and buckled in properly, Lance keeps his hands on your seat to hold himself up and lets his head fall forward. He stands like that for a few seconds before look up at you through thick lashes. He looks serious, but theres a pleading note to his expression.

“Please, do not ever run like that again. I don’t care what you do, but it cannot be that. The fear I felt when I realized you could be anywhere, being hurt by anyone, and I would have no way to help? That is something I will never forget.” You’re nodding before he’s even finished speaking, and you can see a weight finally lift from his shoulders. His hand hovers near your waist as he moves, as though he wants to hold you, but he thinks better of it and retreats instead.

Once he’s tucked into the drivers seat, you feel like you can finally respond to everything thats happened. You apologize for running, for scaring him. You apologize for being unsafe. And you give him tentative forgiveness for his harsh words and actions the day prior. You both know it won’t be the same as it was, not for quite awhile. You’ll be scared when he gets upset for a while, and he will check that you’re still in the house repeatedly after any fight, but it wont last forever.

His hand gently intertwining with your own on your thigh makes you sure of that.

[cupidsworstcrime]

Lance Sweets with dacryphilia.... that's it.... that's the ask!!!

saw the head canon and ran with it? lol bet - just a short little imagine

"Shh," he interrupted, his fingers pressing against your lips. "No need for words. Just let me see you, truly see you."

The tears continued to fall, and Sweets' smile grew a bit wider. He cradled your face with both hands now, his touch possessive and invasive. "That's it," he whispered, his voice soft and gentle.

Sweets' eyes glowed with satisfaction. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with longing. "I could watch you cry forever."

[icantthinkofanythingcool3]

What are some songs you guys would really like fanfiction written to? comment or ask anonymously

[x-yourgirlfriendsringtone-x]

I am in deep again w Lance Sweets, so if anyone has any fic requests/ ideas LMK. I post on AO3, but I'm considering cross posting.

[egophiliac]

I feel like F/P/S was still a pretty weird one, even by Lance's standards.

sorry for (in an ironic twist) not doing much Ride Kamens art now that it's actually started; I've been pretty slow going through it and I feel weird posting about things I'm not caught up on! though I'm. definitely gonna have to set aside some time to actually get through episode 13, after what they posted today. (w-what did they do to my Leon) (NOBODY TELL ME I HAVE TO FIND OUT ON MY OWN) (LEOOOOOOOON)

[shelbgrey]

Comedy short: who broke the coffee pot?(Bones)

Paring: reader x jeffersonian staff

Summary: cam wants to know who broke the coffee pot.

A/n: bones requests are open!

MasterList

Cam called a staff meeting today... No one would have ever predicted that it would be about a broken coffee pot. Not a corpse, not a piece of broken bone, but a broken pot.

They all stood around the broken coffee pot confused, in the coffee maker it's self was large beaker from the lab in place of the pot. All of us minus Bones, she was aggravated she was taken away from her work for this.

“So...” Cam said crossing her arms “Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know.” she said softly looking at everyone.

Everyone stayed silent as Seeley and Lance walked in confused. Lance walked up next to y/n looking at the broken glass. Before he could ask what happened y/n sighed when she saw everyone's silent panic and spoke up.

“...I did. I broke it.” y/n said trying to save who's ever ass broke it.

Cam shook her head and sighed “No. No you didn't, you don't even drink coffee. Dr. Hodgins?”

Jack looked insulted that she would even mention him, did he not relize how many beakers he's broken in the Lab? “Don't look at me. Look at Wendell”

The blond look bewildered and gave Jack a dirty look before turning to Cam. “What?! I didn't break it.”

Jack hummed and looked at Cam like he cracked the case “Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken?”

Wendell started to get annoyed, he rubbed his fave then pointed to the broken glass “Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken.”

Jack shrugged “Suspicious.”

“No, it's not!” Wendell said shaking his head. Cam, who just wanted an answer sighed right back and looked towards Seeley who interjected.

“If it matters, probably not, but Lance was the last one to use it.” y/n and Lance both looked at him shocked.

“Liar! I don't even work here!” Lance said stepping away from the group.

“Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart last night?” Seeley asked in joking matter, he wasn't really trying to blame him.

“Because Brennan asked me to get her a cup of coffee while I got y/n her tea. They were both working late last Everyone knows that, Booth” Lance quickly said and his story check out.

Angela sighed and put her hands up “Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Cam”

Cam stoped her and held up the lose handle “No! Who broke it!?”

Everyone stayed quiet, they all shared glances just waiting for someone to crack. Jack's eyes fell on Bones who was now checking her watch.

Jack glanced at Cam “Cam Brennan's been awfully quiet.”

Bones gasped, shocked anyone would accuse her of such accusations “really Dr. Hodgins?!”

Everyone starts arguing after that, the squints and the scientists that is. Lance and Seeley stared, still confused on what just happened. Cam just snickered and walked over to the boys. “I broke it by accident. It burned my hand so I punched it.”

Seeley and Lance started chuckling when they saw y/n throw a hand full of coffee stirrers at Wendell and Jack.

Seeley chuckled. “I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a skull on a stick.”

*Later at the Bureau*

“crap!” James sighed as the sound of glass shattering filled his ears, he quickly looked around for witness hoping no one saw him break the coffee pot in the break room.

Caroline sighed and pulled out her phone from a distance, James didn't see her dialing Cam's number. “Cam, tell me how you handled the coffee pot situation at the jeffersonian”

[isacksteban]

"i'm the captain, and you can be the deputy."

"i'm really glad you think i'm so funny!"

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

can I please get headcannons for the bones boys taking you out on a first date? Thank you so much for writing for bones!

A/N: anything for my bones boys

Booth would definitely do something unconventional. Something fun, unexpected, something that was a bit competitive, but mostly something where he could show off.

"Really?" you almost laughed as you stood in front of the entrance. "The fair?"

"Oh, come on. When was the last time you did something like this?" He nudged you on your shoulder, wagging his eyebrows at you.

He would then proceed to win you a giant stuffed bear at the duck shoot.

"What?" he shrugged nonchalantly, "Like it’s hard?"

"Not for you apparently," you teased. "Though I expect being a ranger turned FBI agent probably helps."

You started walking backwards enjoying the challenging look in his eyes.

"Are you trying to rial me up?" he questioned, smirking at you.

You leaned in close to him, enjoying the way his breathing increased. "Depends, how easy do you fluster?"

You pulled away, making your way towards the ring toss.

"Oh, I see how it is," Booth shouted as he trailed after you, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

The first date with Booth would solely about getting to know you, making you laugh, and gauging just how comfortable he could be around you. It would absolutely end with him being a giant tease and kissing you on the corner of your mouth or your temple.

Hodgins, rich (so rich he doesn't even know how rich), Hodgins would try and impress you. At least that was his first thought. Private and obscenely expensive dinner? Check. Expensive car to get you there? Check.

But like many things in Jack's life, it never really went according to plan.

"Oh, come on!" Jack grumbled at the flat tire. "I just had the car serviced. I can't believe this."

It was only when you started laughing that he relaxed enough to look at you.

"What?" He asked a bit in disbelief. Crushing thoughts about how this was the worst first date to never actually even start diminished at the sight your smile.

"I don't think I've seen you this stressed since you tried to hide TNT experiment from Cam," you said laughter dying down.

"Hey, that civil war exhibit didn't need it as much as us," he reasoned, a smile now stretching across his own face as he leaned against his car.

You mirrored his movements, shoulder pressed against his as you leaned against the car.

"I wanted this to be perfect. But just about everything seems to have gone wrong."

"Well, it's a good thing the night isn't over yet," you looked around. "You know, I think we're close to the diner."

"You can't be serious," he laughed. A mixture of disbelief and awe.

"Deal. I never needed anything fancy anyways - just you Jack."

From that moment, he knew that he wasn't ever going to mess it up. You were it for him.

Sweets would want to do anything where the two of you could just talk. We know he's done a pottery class before so something along those lines. Really anything where he got to just look at you with a big grin on his face and listen to every word that came out of your mouth.

"Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"Your chicken is burning."

"Oh, shit."

You let out a laugh that made him forget all about the charred chicken. He, in hindsight, should have known better than to plan a cooking class as your first date. Not when you distracted him so easily he could chop a finger off. Definitely not his best idea.

"Here, we can just share mine," you said as you fed him some of your food. All teasing smiles and delicious prolonged eye contact.

Definitely not his worst date idea.

Wendell is one for simplicity. He wants to get to know you, but he also doesn't want to go overboard and scare you off. He'd plan for a simple dinner (your pick) and make a walk around the city.

The street lights illuminated the city, a cool breeze rushing past you. You tried your best not to seem cold - you'd opted for looks- not practically. Now you were paying the price for it.

A sudden rush of warm hit you, you looked up at Wendell who'd wordlessly placed his jacket over your shoulders.

"Wendell-"

"Don't even mention it. Can't have you getting sick now, can I?" He gently nudged your shoulder with his own as you walked side by side. "Wouldn't want you to rain check the next date."

"The next one?" you prodded - warmth washing over your cheeks. "Someone is presumptuous," you teased.

"Nah, just optimistic," He smiled brightly at you. "So, what do ya say?"

"I think your odds are looking pretty good," you looped your arm to hold on to his.

Wendell wouldn't necessarily consider himself a betting man, but he'd say he won out on this one.

Vincent was quiet sure how he'd managed it. It was all a bit of blur if he was honest. One second you both were discussing how no number before a thousand contains the letter a, and the next he had asked you out. And you'd said yes.

He almost thought he'd dreampt it, really. You'd had to call out his name twice before he blinked himself back into reality.

Now he stood in front of your door holding flowers that were wilting away by the second - he swore he'd just gotten them and they looked pristine.

He let out a sigh, knuckles frozen over the door. This would be, fine. You already said yes. Oh, God.

Knuckles knocking against the door, he frantically smoothed out his hair.

"Vincent!"

You leaned in for a hug, crushing the flowers, but he couldn't bring himself to care. You pulled away giving him this brilliant smile that put him at ease.

"Are those for me?"

"Wha- yes. Yes, they are for you." He handed you the roses. "Did you know over 30,000 rose varieties exist today?"

You let out a small laugh, eyes still sparkling. "I didn't, but thank you for telling me."

That smile of your really did put him at ease. This would be fine - this would be great - because he was with you.

When Colin asked you to go out with him to the Slasherthon at the local movie theater he wasn't actually sure you'd say yes. But he figured the worst you could say was no - or you know, laugh at him until he fell into an endless abyss of shame.

Either would be fine.

He expected the abyss.

He did not expect you to say yes. Let alone actually show up. But there you were in a Jason Voorhees t-shirt all smiles as he walked up to you.

"Are you ready for lots of gore and eating our weight in popcorn?" You asked practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. He'd never seen anything more lively or beautiful in his life.

"A person after my own heart," he said dramatically - hand placed over his own heart.

"Come on, Colin," you grabbed his hand pulling him into the theater. As you led him away he realized the abyss option would have been much worse than he had anticipated.

You were a light shining into his abyss.

Aubrey would take you to a nice sit down restaurant. He spent the better half of the week trying to decide where exactly to take you. He'd finally settled on a restaurant you had been talking about trying for a month now.

"Aubrey, how did you know I wanted to eat here?" You asked, leaning forward. Your eyes excitedly bouncing between the menu and Aubrey.

"You've been talking about it," he shrugged, trying his hardest to be nonchalant about it.

"Aubrey- I mentioned it once, like, a month ago." You laughed a bit in disbelief.

"And?"

"And how do you remember something like that?"

"It sounded important to you, why wouldn't I want to remember it?"

He'd be lying if he didn't say he enjoyed that look on your face. A mixture of disbelief and being heard - actually heard.

"Now, I'm thinking we go family style on this bad boy and see what all the fuss is about." Aubrey leaned forward, both of you so close to the other. If the flowers in the middle of the table weren't in the way he just might have leaned in for kiss.

"You sure you can leave some food for me?" You teased, your eyes sparkling in a way that made Aubrey realize he never wanted to see your eyes without it.

"Sweetheart, I'd leave all of it for you if you asked."

"Liar," you laughed.

"Alright some of it, but that's better than none!"

[taylorsfolkmoredress]

Lance sweets bf headcanons pt. 2 bc i love him <333 my husband <333

• He loves sharing his favorite music with you. Whether it’s things he’s loved his whole life, or a random song he heard last week, you can bet he’s sharing it with you.

• He also tells you why he loves it, whether it’s for the music itself or the lyrics. He thinks music is one of the easiest ways for a person to express themself.

• If you take medication that man is ON THAT SHIT. He has alarms on his phone to check that youve taken it, and if you have a hard time actually doing it he WILL watch you the whole time.

• He keeps a blanket in his office so you can nap on hard days, even though he technically isn’t supposed to let you sleep there.

• If you watch a lot of crime shows, he will watch some with you but he actually can’t watch most (he’s seen too many similar things to be comfortable), so instead he waits for you to come to bed and tell him all of the gossipy parts.

• He makes you both little lunches before he goes to work becase he loves knowing that no matter what’s going on, you’re both sharing a lunch together somewhere.

• He’s nervous as FUCK to meet your family. He wants to make a good first impression so bad,he almost cries about it the night before, until you hold him and promise that everything will go fine.

• When he gets home from work, specifically on hard days, all he wants is to collapse on top of you on the couch and have you tell him about your day. Anything not related to death and sadness makes his heart feel lighter.

• His favorite date with you is the arcade, but picnics are a very close second because you like to lay in the sun and he thinks you look ethereal.

• This man loves physical touch. He wears a bracelet you made him because it reminds him of holding your hand when you aren’t together physically. When you are? He’s always touching something, his fingers resting on your ankle as you stretch across the couch, his calf pressed against yours when you sit across from eachother at the diner, his palm warming the small of your back at the bar when you go out.

• He definitely has a bottle of your perfume because he can’t sleep without you at this point and it’s the only thing that helps when youre apart.

[limelightemorat]

I am begging for some more Bones imagines, most preferably Lance Sweets or Zack Addy. I will literally take anything whether is fluff or smut idc-

[squintern-supremacy]

is lance sweets rly queercoded in the later bones seasons or is it just me (its just me)

[icantthinkofanythingcool3]

HELP

Feeling really sad today, some thing big feels like it's changing and it's hard to grasp...

SO I'm going to avoid my feelings like I always do and ask you guys if you have any Lance Sweets x reader requests/ideas/etc. Please help a girl out and send everything ya got!

[a-tale-of-legends]

Beryl: ( watching the others from a distance)

Lance, who came with Silver: You should join them,you know.

Beryl: ( blinks out of their trance) Hm? What?

Lance: I said you should join them. I can take over the watching from here.

Beryl: ....( Narrows eyes) Don't you have a workaholic problem? I don't want you to add more to your plate than you already have.

Lance: A-ah. ( Clears throat) My work tendencies shouldn't be your priority, Beryl. Your 13. Just as you have the responsibility of being the oldest, you're still a kid ( gestures to the others in the distance) and I think kids should play with their friends than worry about the adults around them, hm?

Beryl: ( looks at Lance, then back her friends playing) ......

Lance: And I'm sure they would love to have you there, too.

Kenji: ( looks back at Beryl, and waves excitedly)

Beryl: ( smiles and gives a small wave back) ......You'll be watching us, right?

Lance: (nods) I'll be right here.

Beryl: .....( Smiles, before running towards their friends, waving) Hey guys!

Kenji and Aiko: Beryl!!!

Silver: ( simply crosses his arms)

Lance: ( smiles to himself as he watches the four play together)

[strawberrylovely]

Heyo!! I was looking through old notes and I found some shance poems that were originally going to be comics that I made that I thought you’d enjoy! I did some editing but not a lot so it’s not the best!

They are in shiros perspective btw!

You know, I never really had a favorite color

I mean, there’s so many

How could you pick one?

That was until I saw you

And loved you

That’s when my favorite color became, you.

It’s silly, I know you’ll make fun of me, that my favorite color isn’t even a single color

but I can’t help but see it everywhere

Though, when you ask

What my favorite color is

I say it’s blue

Because that’s your favorite color and it makes you beam with joy

And oh what a sight it is

To see my favorite color

When it’s most beautiful

When it’s you

—————————————-

I used to think what I was saying was true

That my scars

My arm

My hair

We’re ugly, that I was ugly and unlovable

But then you came along

You told me that my scars are beautiful because they show that I’m healing

You showed me how my arm shows courage because it give me strength to hold those close

You told me how the grays in my hair show just how long I’ve been fighting for the people I care and love

You tell me all of these things, making sure I know just how beautiful and lovable I am

I started telling myself my own truths

That you loved me, the way I love you

the only problem is

It’s a truth you never told

Turns out, I don’t tell truths

I Lie

HHHHHH

oh my god i love them both so much. the sweetness of the first one??? i absolutely can see it as a comic. like lance’s eyes and both of them in shades of blue 😭😭😭 and the ANGST OF THE SECOND ONE WITH THAT LAST LINE 😭 you are so talented friend thank you so much for sharing these with me. 💙🖤

[shelbgrey]

hiii ! i’ve just recently gotten back on tumblr after rewatching bones again and ive been dying for some lance sweet posts ( so thankful you write for him you’re amazing <3 ) anyways i was wondering if you could write something up for sweets with maybe this prompt ? 0.4) “Why can’t I breathe whenever I think about you?” especially if the reader could be plus sized if not, i appreciate you reading this have a great day,night <3

Let me take your pain away(Lance Sweets)

Paring: Lance Sweets x Plus Sized!Reader

Summary: Lance comes home all scraped up and his girlfriend patches him up, trying to take his pain away.

Prompt: 0.4) “Why can’t I breathe whenever I think about you?”

MasterList

“hey, this is Lance Sweets, leave a message”

I started to get worried when Lance wasn't answering his phone. I knew he was out with Seeley, dealing with a suspect, but that was a few hours ago. Even then Lance was good about answering his phone even if it was a quick text. Every time I got Lance's voice mail the more I worried and the harder it became to concentrate on the file I was studying for the case.

An hour later there was a knock at the door, I immediately sprang from the couch and ran towards the door. It's funny, I could just recognize it was Lance just by his gentle and yet firm knock.

I sighed with relief when I saw it was Lance, but he looked rough. He had a few bruises and cuts on his face, his side looked like it was nicked from the way he was holding it, and his shirt was covered in blood. “Oh Baby, what happened?” I asked softly as I pulled him into our home gently then closed and locked the door.

It hurt to see him like this, his bright smile was gone and he winced in pain after every move he made. I followed him close behind, afraid he would lose his balance. He let out a groan and leaned against the door frame of our bedroom, his breathing quickening. He sighed and looked towards the floor. He was completely exhausted and you could just see how much of a beating he had taken. “I'm okay…I'm okay…”

I gave him a soft expression and gently helped him sit down at the foot of my bed. I took the holster that held his gun and put it on the nightstand so he could sit comfortably. “Just let me take care of you… You don't look fine” I said softly. Lance closed his eyes and tilted his head back, taking a few deep breaths as I gently moved a few strands of hair off his forehead. I saw a cut on his forehead.

I knew that he would be fine and did his very best to put up a brave face but, yet the cuts and bruises on his face spoke for themselves. They revealed the pain he was in and everything that he had been through to night. All the fighting, stress, pain, you could see it in his eyes.

“It's okay…” I said softly and gently ran my fingers through his hair. “I'll get you cleaned up so you can rest…”

Lance let out a shallow breath and nodded his head. He would never admit it, but the fight had taken a lot out of him and he needed a break. He had always tried to put up a tough front for people, always telling people he was fine, even to me, yet I saw right through him every single time. We had an incredible bond, one that could never be explained unless you experienced it yourself. I kissed his forehead gently then left to get the first-aid kit and some clean clothes for him.

Lance sighed, his eyelids falling slightly, yet he fought it as much as he could, waiting to be taken care of like I did so many times before. I left him in our room and rummed around for first-aid supplies. That was one of our favorite things - our abilities to take care of each other with no judgment. It showed how much we loved each other. He was still setting at the foot of our bed when I came back with the first-aid kit, a towel, and the clothes, I set all the items down on the bed next to him

I reached for the buttons of his stained t-shirt and started to up softly, so I could get the ruined shirt off and clean his injuries. After I unbuttoned his shirt I slowly pushed it off his shoulders then threw the ruined shirt on the floor. I cringed slightly when I saw the nasty cut along his side and various bruises on his body. When you work at the jeffersonian you become desensitized to gore, but seeing him all bruised up made my heart pound.

my eyes softened and worry flooded my mind when he winced in pain after a single touch. I saw the nasty cut on his side, it looked like he was cut with a blade or something. “honey... If this was any deeper we would be taking a hospital trip right now” I said softly with a hint of worry as I gently cleaned the cut with warm, wet washcloth.

Lance chuckled softly, the pain becoming slightly more tolerable after being cleaned by the warm washcloth. The cut was actually pretty bad, yet Lance did his best to hide it the entire time. I worried to much. I'm always afraid he was gonna die. After I cleaned up the blood, I pulled out the bottle of peroxide. I gently brushed the cut with a cotton ball soaked in peroxide, I was slow and careful with my movements. Lance bit his bottom lip, wincing as he gripped my hips.

“I know Honey... I'm almost done” I said softly and started to apply clean bandages on the cut after I got done cleaning and treating it.

Lance's eyes slowly closed as I began to apply the bandages to the wound. He breathed a sigh of relief once it was all done. His body relaxed a bit, letting himself take some time to unwind after being so stressed from the case. He opened his eyes and looked at the floor, seeing just how bad his shirt actually was.

after I got done with the worst injury, I got a fresh cotton ball soaked in peroxide so I could start treating the cuts on his face. I moved and stood between his legs so could reach him better. I placed my hand on his jaw, gently tilting his head back so I could clean the cut on his forehead. The cuts on his face all stung a bit, he ran his hands up and down my curves slowly, trying to distract himself from the pain. At least they weren't near as bad as the one on his side. Some were just small cuts that would heal up quite nicely while others were a bit more severe, the largest one being on his forehead. He kept his eyes completely closed because it made the process easier on him.

“God, Lance” I whispered sympathetically as I put the last of the bandages on his face. “What happened out there?” I whispered.

Lance winced, holding his side as he shifted on the bed. “M-me and Booth went to bring the guy in”

“the guy me and Temperance interrogated today?” I asked softly as I wrapped up his busted knuckles. I noticed the broken skin and the bruises, the guy definitely put up a fight.

“yeah… N-next thing we know he shot up the place and ran for it. Me and Booth got separated… I went after him on my own”

I looked down at his busted body, feeling terrible about his outcome,he noticed and signed. “I'm sorry I worried you tonight… He somehow found out about our connections and threatened your life… I snapped”

I placed my hand under his chin and gently lifted his head up so our eyes could meet. The brow eye that usually held so much love and happiness now looked tired and broken. “you have nothing to be sorry about, but there's no reason to risk your life over me,” I said softly.

“Then Why can’t I breathe whenever I think about you? Why do I wake up every morning thankful you're lying there next to me, why are you spending your night patching me up instead of getting a good night's sleep? I know why, because you're worth fighting for and worth protecting” he spoke softly. “i'd go through this pain all over again if it meant keeping you safe”

I gently kissed his forehead. “I love you… Don't come home to me like this again” I said softly.

He smiled softly. “I love you too”

“I'll help you get changed then you need to lay down and rest” I said softly, running my fingers through his messy hair.

I picked up his bloody shirt and towel, throwing it in the hamper. I quickly grabbed a fresh pair of boxers and a flannel to wear to bed. I came back to him and helped him pull the flannel over his shoulders, but didn't button it up in fear of irritating any of his injuries. He pulled his boxers, I smiled softly and ran my fingers through his messy hair, fixing it slightly “There... All patched up” I whispered.

Lance smiled softly then he slowly crawled into bed, laying down into the comforter. He closed his eyes once again and breathed in a deep breath, letting out a long sigh as he did so. His body was so tired and worn out after the lengthy fight. It felt so good to just relax and know he was safe.

I smiled softly and carefully climbed into bed, getting comfortable on my side of the bed, usually we'd cuddle in bed but since he was so sore I was just gonna sleep on my side of the bed.

“Thank you for taking care of me… I love you” Lance said softly, drifting off to sleep.

“I love you too”