Hiya! Could you possibly write Ghost and a gn reader who likes to talk and is told to shut up by someone and they end up being really quiet afterwards and it worries Ghost? I also love how you write Simon as trans. That’s how I see him and write him as well 💖💙
aa it's been a gazillion yrs mb </3 but this was fun to finally crack down and write !! also trans ghost is just too real & more ppl should write him like it tbh ‼️‼️
cw: angst a tad !! but it's hurt/comfort :3
☆ he's more on the quieter sides with really anything; other than cracking jokes that border in insubordinance he doesn't really engage or talk much
☆ that being said, he loves when you talk his head off !!!! if you aren't talking to him then what else is he supposed to do? listen to the lights??
☆ imo he's vv gentle giant w you but still, scary dog to the max. he doesn't hesitate to use his rank or strength (if it comes to that point; it vv rarely does) to put anyone that hurts you in their place
☆ also being said; he knows that stuff will leave scars no matter how much he can use violence against it. so he starts reassuring you w his actions more than his words !!
☆ whenever you go quiet he asks you questions about anything really
"what's your opinion on fish?"
"what?" you ask, almost breaking out into a smile as ghost hunches down beside you. taking apart his gun like he always does; just to put it back together again.
"what's your opinion on fish? im not a big fan, but i cannot deny price's salmon is fuckin' lovely." he says nonchalantly, you swear there's a smile in his voice as he asks it. even more so in his eyes when you start chattering about fish.
☆ tries to avoid directly bringing it up because in his experience; bringing up touchy subjects never ends well for either ppl. but he feels honored when you initiate talking about it
☆ might cry about it later in the shower that you were vulnerable with him; if he's feeling particularly good that day he might let you wipe away the tears :)
Hiya! Could you possibly write Ghost and a gn reader who likes to talk and is told to shut up by someone and they end up being really quiet afterwards and it worries Ghost? I also love how you write Simon as trans. That’s how I see him and write him as well 💖💙
aa it's been a gazillion yrs mb </3 but this was fun to finally crack down and write !! also trans ghost is just too real & more ppl should write him like it tbh ‼️‼️
cw: angst a tad !! but it's hurt/comfort :3
☆ he's more on the quieter sides with really anything; other than cracking jokes that border in insubordinance he doesn't really engage or talk much
☆ that being said, he loves when you talk his head off !!!! if you aren't talking to him then what else is he supposed to do? listen to the lights??
☆ imo he's vv gentle giant w you but still, scary dog to the max. he doesn't hesitate to use his rank or strength (if it comes to that point; it vv rarely does) to put anyone that hurts you in their place
☆ also being said; he knows that stuff will leave scars no matter how much he can use violence against it. so he starts reassuring you w his actions more than his words !!
☆ whenever you go quiet he asks you questions about anything really
"what's your opinion on fish?"
"what?" you ask, almost breaking out into a smile as ghost hunches down beside you. taking apart his gun like he always does; just to put it back together again.
"what's your opinion on fish? im not a big fan, but i cannot deny price's salmon is fuckin' lovely." he says nonchalantly, you swear there's a smile in his voice as he asks it. even more so in his eyes when you start chattering about fish.
☆ tries to avoid directly bringing it up because in his experience; bringing up touchy subjects never ends well for either ppl. but he feels honored when you initiate talking about it
☆ might cry about it later in the shower that you were vulnerable with him; if he's feeling particularly good that day he might let you wipe away the tears :)
Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips.
Hmmm
TMNT
Temperature
The Clone Wars
Station 40
Commander Cody
Leene
The Fate of Pollen
Call of Duty
Garrick
I tag: @wizardofrozz @helenarasmussen87 @daisies-daydreams
im assuming you mean like drafts? i don't usually save a lot in there, like at all ! but here's what i have, thank you for tagging me btw 🫶🫶
call of duty
2009 cpt. mactavish NSFW headcannons
141 + alejandro, rudy and könig with a really strong but small gn!reader (literally never gonna get finished i think..)
im gonna tag a bunch of people; @barefoothighlander @m6chiro @gravesbf @glossythor @raisinghellionsblog @andreas-river @rileyslibrary @okayyadriana @rattenfaengerin @devilanon @thesinsoflust @isabella-kr @waltzthegenderfluidpan @just-mint-to-be @nsharks @loneghostwolf @kampferkonig @konig-is-bbygrl @homicidal-slvt , idm if you don't want to respond 🩵
☆ it's a little confused all the time but he gets the spirit !!! unconditionally supportive of everything even if he makes casual banter and jokes abt it
☆ tries to cook for you whenever he has the chance after work, it rarely works out though because he can't cook 💔 but it's the thought that counts
☆ lets you wear his leather jacket all the time, he complains abt not having it at work when it's cold but he'd rather him be cold instead of you being cold when he could've prevented it
☆ takes you to the trailer surprisingly often, it becomes sort of a safe haven for him as only him, monroe, and you know abt it. he likes rereading the books while you find new hidey holes
monroe:
☆ your own personal heater fr ‼️ blutbaden run on a higher temp than the avg human so he's always warm and toasty even when it's cold out
☆ he loves giving gifts, he's always fixing up antique and vintage clocks that remind him of you (which happens to be a lot of the clocks). he even makes a couple of pocket watches for you to always have w your person
☆ can actually cook, granted it's vegetarian and even sometimes vegan but it's the good vegan food. he's always looking to try new recipes from pinterest bc he's an avid pinterest user
☆ plays the cello when you're having trouble sleeping, he's always happy and eager to help so he ends up having the cello by the bed along with sheet music of lullabies
sean renard:
☆ SUGAR DADDY TO THE MAX 🗣‼️‼️ he's always buying and spoiling you w random shit that you glanced at while walking around. even gives you a credit card that is automatically paid for
☆ doesn't necessarily talk or name-drop you to any of his family or the precinct, but it is well known (at least to the precinct) that he's taken
☆ has people waiting on you hand and foot, you basically get the royalty treatment without the fame and danger of it. he still does heavy background and monitors the people though without them knowing
☆ only allows himself to relax around you, while it's not fully relaxed it's as relaxed as renard can be. he lets you hold him occasionally but mostly it's him holding you to his chest protectively
Ok I have another one, celebrating Phillips birthday 🎉
graves my beloved 🫶
barracks:
☆ doesn't typically enjoy celebrating his birthday on base, i see him as a mixing pleasure & business kinda guy but never personal life & business
☆ takes some coaxing to even get his age outta him 💀 he eventually shares his birthday though after a especially good mission when he feels generous
☆ prefers small things, little gifts still make him feel guilty because #selfworthissues but he appreciates them a lot
☆ piggy backing off gifts ; he lovessss stuff he can wear, bracelets are his go to because he likes looking at them when he feels down. not so much seemingly "useless" things though bc? what's a guy like him gonna do w this? (he still loves them, just not vocally)
civilian life:
☆ still prefers more quiet and small birthdays, inviting a couple ppl he loves and trusts isn't the end of the world but he prefers you & the dogs
☆ gifts become lot easier to accept when he's discharged, he enjoys the wearable gifts still but he now appreciates the more "useless" vocally. he puts them in places that are easy to see now so he doesn't forget to appreciate them
☆ forgets his birthday a lot more, he loses the ache from his military days & begins to enjoy his everyday sm that he forgets that his birthday is supposed to be different
☆ he enjoys a good night out :) if you insist on doing something special for his birthday he'll start wanting to take you out for a dinner and shop for the pets
Hello, I would like to request Bones imagine or headcanon or whatever you'd like of Zack Addy in a romantic and domestic life setting with his S/O please?
The Breakfast Anomaly (Z.A.)
After a long week at work you decide to start your day off by making breakfast for Zack. But when he decides to help you it takes a disastrous turn.
You were coming home from a long day at work. A long week actually. Identifying bones that had been ground into tiny grains and then finding the killer was no easy feat. The hours were long and the rest was little. But now the case was over. The killer had been caught and you could finally take a break. Dr Brennan had given you all a couple of days off and you were going to make the most of it.
You drove in silence. Zack sat half asleep in the passenger seat, his head knocking against the window at every bump in the road. When you finally made it home you both instantly slouched into bed, too tired to do anything other than kiss each other goodnight.
The next morning you woke up late. You could still hear Zack’s rhythmic breathing beside you, letting you know he was still asleep. Suddenly, you were hit with a wave of hunger. Then you realised that, the last couple of days, you’d been so focused on your job that you barely took time to eat much other than a few oat bars and whatever you could scavenge from the vending machine. Zack was the same. This new, uncomfortable feeling forced you to slowly pull yourself out of bed and make some breakfast. As you pulled on a hoodie you looked down at Zack’s sleeping figure. He shifted slightly, adjusting to the absence of your body beside his. But, from what you could tell, he was still sound asleep. That’s when you decided to do something nice for him. You were going to make him breakfast in bed. It was your day off after all. You had plenty of time.
You quickly rifled through your cupboards for ingredients and finally decided to make him pancakes. You had the ingredients neatly laid on the counter and were about to start baking when you heard movement behind you. You spun around to find Zack walking groggily into the kitchen.
“No! Ugh, you’re not supposed to be here,” you complained.
“Good morning to you too,” he replied, his voice raspy from sleep.
“Sorry,” you said, pouring him a cup of coffee. “It’s just, I wanted to make you breakfast in bed. But since you’re not in bed anymore, I can’t really do that .”
“I’ll happily go back to bed if that’s what you want,” Zack smiled, taking the steaming cup from you.
“Yes, please do. This is our day off and we’re going to do it right,” you said, practically pushing him back towards the bedroom.
“No, no, come on. I can’t let you do this by yourself,” Zack rebutted. “Let me help.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, you, Zack Addy, want to help me cook? Have you ever cooked anything in your life.”
He thought for a moment, scrunching up his nose. “Does toast count?” he asked.
“No, toast does not count,” you grinned.
“Please let me help,” he begged. “How hard can it be?”
You gave in, letting go of him and walking back over to the counter. “Ok, just please do exactly what I tell you to.”
“I live to serve,” he smiled, way too enthusiastic for the simple task of making pancakes.
You shook your head, laughing at him. “Ok then, first of all, hands,” you began, moving to the sink to wash your hands. Zack followed you. When the water came pouring out of the tap, onto your hands, you playfully flicked some of it at Zack.
“Hey,” he yelled, his shirt staining dark from the water.
“Whoops,” you smirked, grabbing a towel to dry your hands.
Next, you told Zack to read the recipe. “Please just read it,” you pleaded. “Just because you’re a genius doesn’t mean you can randomly guess what the ingredients are.”
Zack picked up the book and spent a minute skimming through it. “Got it,” he said. “It’s locked up in the photographic memory.” He tapped his temple confidently.
“If you’re so confident, what do we have to do first?” you asked.
“We have to mix all the dry ingredients in a bowl,” he explained.
“Good, let’s do that,” you said, looking for a wooden spoon in the drawer.
Zack carefully measured out the flour, sugar and baking powder and poured them into a big bowl where you mixed them together.
“Alright, I’m surprised there’s been no disasters yet, so let’s keep going before I jinx us,” you said when you were done mixing.
“Now we need melt some butter and add it to the dry ingredients,” Zack said, as though he were reciting the recipe in this head.
You melted the butter, which was now a scalding pond of yellow liquid. “If you spill that I will literally kill you,” you threatened as Zack carefully carried it from the stove to the counter.
“I work with delicate bones for a living. I think I can carry a bowl from one place to another.”
When he finally safely made it to the counter you poured the melted butter into the other bowl. Once again you stirred the ingredients together. Meanwhile, Zack walked over to the fridge.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Milk,” he said, walking back over, measuring it out and pouring it into the bowl as well.
“Wow, you’re getting the hang of this,” you smiled.
“Did you ever doubt me?” he replied. “Now, let’s cook them. I’m starving.”
You got out a frying pan and sprayed it with oil. “I’ll do the first one to show you how to do it,” you told him.
You poured a dollop of the mixture onto the searing pan. It looked a little different than you thought it should look, but you shrugged it off. It had been a while since you made pancakes. Maybe you just forgot what it was supposed to look like?
“See these bubbles?” You pointed with your spatula to the bubbles forming at the side of the pancake.
“Mhm,” Zack hummed, leaning in to see what you were talking about.
“When you start to see these, that’s how you know it’s time to flip,” you explained. You lifted the pan off the heat, concentrating on what you were about to do next. You jerked your hands and the pancake flew into the air before landing neatly back on the pan.
“Obviously, you don’t have to do that,” you said, placing the pan back on the flame. “You can just use the spatula.”
“No, I want to,” Zack protested. “It can’t be that hard.”
You chuckled but decided to humour him. “Ok, genius, give it a try.”
When the first pancake was done you allowed Zack to pour more mixture onto the pan. He waited in anticipation for the bubbles to appear, his eyes wide like a puppy.
“Can I do it now?” he asked, excitedly. You looked down to find the edge of the pancake dotted with tiny bubbles.
“Yeah, it’s ready,” you confirmed. Immediately Zack lifted the pan. You instinctively took a step back. “Just, please be careful, Zack.”
Zack exhaled deeply, preparing himself before he dramatically tossed the pan. The pancake rose into the air. You winced as it almost hit the ceiling. But just before it made contact, it started to fall... right onto Zack’s head.
You couldn’t help but burst out laughing as the uncooked side of the pancake slid down Zack’s head, onto his face.
“Oh my God,” you both said in unison.
When you finally recovered from your fit of laughter you grabbed a towel and attempted to wipe Zack’s hair. But instead of cleaning it off it sort of just smeared it in.
“It’s fine,” he sighed. “I’ll shower after we eat.”
“Maybe you should stick to using the spatula from now on,” you suggested. Zack reluctantly grabbed it from you, rolling his eyes.
It took a painfully long time, and by the end of it you were both ravenous, but eventually you used up all the batter.
“Finally,” Zack said, getting plates while you looked in your cupboards for syrup.
You both sat at the table, the stack of pancakes in front of you, Simultaneously, you hungrily reached for one and doused it in syrup. You shoved it in your mouth and the first thing you tasted was the sweet syrup as it coated your mouth. But then, when you started to chew, the taste of the pancake itself became apparent. Your chewing slowed and your face contorted in disgust. You turned to Zack and his expression mirrored yours.
“Ew,” he mumbled through his mouthful of food.
“Yeah, something’s not right,” you said. You placed your fork back on the plate and forced yourself to swallow the mouthful as you got up to check the recipe.
Flour? Check.
Sugar? Check.
Butter? Check.
Milk? Check
Eggs?
“Oh my God, eggs!” you shouted when you realised the fatal ingredient you’d forgotten.
“Ah, that would explain it,” Zack said matter-of-factly.
“You are an idiot,” you chuckled. “So much for that photographic memory of yours. How is it possible that you can literally reconstruct a skull but can’t bake a pancake?”
“Hey, I’m tired. Give me a break,” Zack retorted.
You sighed. What were you going to do now? You were still starving.
“Maybe we should just go to a café for breakfast,” Zack said, as though he were reading your mind. But then you had an idea. You couldn’t tell if you were delusional from still being so tired or if the eggless pancakes had somehow altered your brain chemistry, but you were suddenly overcome by a childish urge.
“We could…” you began, picking the untouched box of eggs off the counter. “But we still have some uncooked batter. We could just add the eggs to it.”
“We do? Where?” Zack questioned, looking puzzledly around the room.
“Right here,” you said, taking an egg from the box and slamming it on the part of Zack’s hair that was still smothered in batter. The egg cracked and its contents dripped onto Zack’s already messy hair and all the way down his face. His jaw dropped and he scoffed in shock.
“Oh my God,” he yelled in the same tone as before.
You didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for him. But before you had time to do either, Zack had grabbed an egg from the box in your hand and smashed in on your head.
“Hey, what the hell?” you shouted as the cold egg trickled down your nose.
“Now we’re even,” Zack smirked.
You shook your head but smiled back at him. “You are such a child,” you laughed, wiping some egg off your face that was about to fall into your eye.
“You started it,” Zack replied.
“And now I’m finishing it,” you said, taking the box of eggs out of his grasp before he reached for another one. “Now let’s go and get cleaned up so we can actually go and buy some proper food.”
“Can we get cleaned up together?” Zack asked, raising his brow.
“Oh, grow up,” you smirked. Nevertheless, you began pulling him into the bathroom by the neck of his shirt.
2087
snowghoul
stormborns
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