could've done better but here is what i did in an hour

Steady Hands 

Request: the reader is nervous about helping solo out on a mission bc she’s not a trained agent

Words: 801

Admiring the light yellow fabric flowing around your legs, you allow yourself to take the first true breath in the past five minutes. The fitting you were subjected to had lasted nearly an hour. Although the room is perfectly air conditioned, and there is a glass of water just inches from your feet, you still find your hands sweating. It is hard to stay calm when you are being poked and prodded by two women you don’t know, all before the analytical eyes of Napoleon Solo.

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a-ominedaiki  asked:

"Well, that could've gone better" - bokuroakatsuki im so deep in this hell bc of u and idec anymore I've accepted my fate hit me w ur best

It was not unusual for Akaashi to come home only to about-face and go for a spontaneous one-hour long walk right after work, briefcase still in hand. That just couldn’t be helped when two thirds of your boyfriends were absolute nut-jobs. He did love them, sure. Adored them, even. But sometimes… sometimes they were just too much.

However, it was unusual for him to not even get as far as opening the door to their house before he felt like walking out again.

“Okay,” he said, drawing in a deep breath as he stood in the garden gate and looked upon the horrendous picture before him. Tearing his eyes away and glancing at the watch on his wrist, he added: “You have ten minutes to pack your bags and leave the country before Tsukishima comes home and kills you.”

Bokuto and Kuroo looked down at him from where they were posed on a ladder, both sporting huge hedge clippers.

“What?” said Kuroo innocently. “Why would we do that? This is his birthday present!”

Akaashi pressed his eyes closed, hoping that somehow, he was just dreaming and the scene would change as soon as he opened his eyes again. Unfortunately, he knew better. “You sculpted all of our shrubs into dicks… for his birthday?” he asked, pained. “Are you aware that birthdays are not randomly interchangeable with April’s fools?”

Bokuto made a scandalized face upon his words. “Wha-!” he proclaimed and leaned back on his ladder as if to look at the sculpture from a bigger distance. “These are dinosaurs! Can’t you see that?”

Akaashi’s lid began to twitch. “How are those dinosaurs?” he asked. Slowly. Calmly. Furiously.

“Well, you see,” said Kuroo, using his huge hedge clipper like a pointer to gesture along the shrub’s… shaft. “We wanted to do the ones with the long necks, because they’re the easiest, and also adorable, and also tallest, so it’s like… triple appropriate for Tsukki.”

“Are you saying he’s easy, then?” Akaashi asked and immediately shook his head at himself for getting distracted. “More importantly – I can see how this would be a long neck with a head on it – but what’s with the two balls down there?”

Bokuto took it upon himself to explain the absolute moronism that had apparently taken them over once again. “Well, you see – once we were done with the neck, we noticed there was not enough shrub left for the body, so we had to improvise!” he said, like that made any sense at all.

“By turning it into a dick,” said Akaashi.

“No! You see – those are its little feet poking out from the ground!” said Kuroo, waving the hedge clippers about. “It’s like a cute puppy dinosaur, just popping up from our garden! Like so!” He threw the clippers away to put on a puppy face and form two paws with his hands.

“It’s an erect penis,” said Akaashi.

“No, it’s not!” Bokuto protested, imitating Kuroo’s ridiculous pose. “It’s like so!”

Akaashi tried to fight his nearing headache with a long sigh. “Would you please… just come down from that ladder and look at it from here?” he asked with long practiced patience.

“Hm…” said Bokuto, once they were both standing next to Akaashi and took a good look at their work. How exactly they had managed to cut five shrubs into this form without noticing… Akaashi would never understand. “I guess… I can kind of see it now,” Bokuto admitted.

Kuroo sat down on the ground with a long groan. “Well, that could’ve gone better,” he said. “So what do we do now?”

“Run?” Akaashi suggested.

“Uhm, yeah… too late,” Bokuto said.

Akaashi turned around with an overwhelming feeling of dread spreading in his stomach. He just hoped Tsukishima would know that this was in no way Akaashi’s fault, idea or influence!

Tsukishima just stood where Akaashi had stood before – just one step through the garden gate, looking at the multitude of penises spread across their lawn. His face was unreadable and he didn’t say a word.

“Hap-” Bokuto started and got interrupted by Kuroo kicking at his boot. They seemed to be having a drawn-out mental conversation, which Bokuto won, somehow, because when they both looked at Tsukishima again, they sounded in unison: “Happy birthday, babe!”

It didn’t sound very convincing.

“Did you…” said Tsukishima, face still unreadable. “Did you seriously sculpt all of our shrub into dicks… for every passing person to see?”

“Uh…” said Bokuto.

“Well…” Kuroo added.

“Actually…” Akaashi tried to explain, because no matter how angry he was at these two idiots, he did not want this evening to end in a bloodbath. However, he never got to explain anything, because Tsukishima had already thrown himself at Bokuto – and not even to punch or strangle him. What they were doing looked suspiciously like… hugging. “Okay, what?” Akaashi groaned.

Kuroo was on his feet two seconds later, throwing himself into the hug.

“You guys know me so well!” Tsukishima smiled – he actually smiled! And no – Akaashi could not accept that – this had to be a dream after all, because no way in hell. No way in hell-

“I can’t believe I never thought of this!” Tsukishima continued. It was hard to hear him through the throbbing pain in Akaashi’s head. “Finally everyone will leave us in peace. No more annoying neighbors trying to befriend us. No more girl scouts. No more people trying to sell us vacuum cleaners or get us to join their church! Nobody will ever want to ring the doorbell of the perverts with a bunch of dick-bushes in their garden! This is the best present ever!”

Bokuto and Kuroo had nothing to add to that except for matching beams, and Akaashi had to watch them escort an elated Tsukishima over to the door.

Akaashi was left with nothing else to do but recalculate.

He had been wrong with two thirds. It had been three thirds all along. One hundred percent.

All of his boyfriends were absolute nut-jobs.

anonymous asked:

Oh god that scenario you made was totally adorable!!! <3 <3 Could you do another one with 2P!France?? Pwease :3

((Im assuming you mean the “First Steps” scenario with 2P!Canada? XD Yeah, i’m just gonna assume that one. I’ve been getting a couple 2P!-specific requests with that theme since i posted that; at least i know that you guys dig the fluff, since you guys can be pretty angsty trolls XD. BTW, the stupidly ironic name for this child is gonna be Adelaide….because Guys and Dolls is the shit))

Scenario: *Just Stupid Fluffiness: First Steps (2P!France; Francois Bonnefoy)

You were getting ready to head off to work, passing by your fiancee, Francois, who was sitting on the couch watching what seemed to be a game of soccer ((or football, for you non-Americans)). Sitting on the floor between his legs was your daughter Adelaide who seemed to be just as immersed in the game as her father was; although, you were sure that it was more out of wonder for the TV itself as opposed to the game. Her shining purple orbs reflected the TV screen as she watched with wide-eyed awe. The soft curly hair framing her face also matched that of Francois (and the small curl beginning to sprout from the top of her head definitely gave away that she was his daughter), but the locks were your hair color instead. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the two dorks with their gazes set dead-on the TV in front of them; when was the last time you found them doing anything else as you head out for work? the fact that you couldn’t even vaguely recall a time was sad enough to bring you behind the couch, resting your arms on the cushion beside your fiancee’s head.
“Francois? Would you mind doing me a favor today?” you asked, leaning your head closer towards him in hopes of increasing your chances for a verbal response this time around. This seem to pay off too, because the blonde spared a minute away from the TV screen to instead fixate his gaze on you.
“Depends; what exactly is this favor?” he asked, his gruff french accent working well with his ruffled and disheveled appearance. His untamed mane and half-buttoned shirt spoke for how little activity he had planned for today besides watching the game.
“Well, i was wondering if you could teach Adelaide how to walk. I’ve been trying to get around to it for a while, but i just never seem to have the time, and considering….” before continuing, you gestured to the many soda cans and snack wrappers he had lying haphazardly across the coffee table. Even Adelaide seemed to find entertainment in a recently-finished can of Pepsi that her father had neglected to throw away. “….all that you have going on here, i’m assuming you got time to kill.”
Finally taking a proper look at the room for himself, Francois gives a look of slight defeat as he lets out a small sigh and once again cranes his neck up towards you.
“Sweetheart, if you want me to clean up can just ask.” he says with a slight chuckle. Giving him a smile, you brushed a stray curl out of his face before giving him a kiss on the forehead, to which he responded with an appreciative hum.
“After you teach her how to walk. Goodbye, sweetheart.” You say, then looping around the couch to meet with the toddler now banging the soda can on the floor. “And goodbye to you too, sweetie.” You say, kissing the babbling girl on the top of her head.
“Have a good day at work, darlin’.” He bid roughly, the natural huskiness in his tone causing him to clear his throat softly after you closed the door. Upon your departure, he sat up from his slouched position on the couch, now resting his elbows on his knees as he ran his long fingers through his hair and looked down at his daughter resting on the floor. Adelaide turned herself around to meet his amethyst gaze with her own, giving a curious look as her fingers still fumbled with the can.
Already sensing the tediousness of the task lying ahead of him, Francois let out a groan before scooping up his daughter and walking to take her to the backyard, where he hopes the fresh air and open surroundings would encourage her to do more than crawl.

“You’re going to make this extra difficult for papa, aren’t you?” he asked with a tired look in his eye, noting how his child was now quite literally crawling around him in circles. It was as if she was purposely mocking him, and the devious glint in her orbs definitely gave away that even she knew she was proud to be doing something that evidently displeased the frenchman (even if she didn’t fully understand why it was annoying him in the first place).
This routine had been going on for just over two hours, and the merciless amount of sunlight that Francois had been receiving in the meantime was more than making up for the several straight days he spent in his dark living room. Adelaide didn’t seem to mind though, in fact she seemed to relish in being outside for a change; it was surely motivating her to be more active, just not in the way Francois was hoping it would.
Exasperated, Francois sat back on the grass, taking a breather to contemplate other ways to teach his daughter to walk. Maybe Google was the best resource? As he was thinking of this, he couldn’t help but notice the way that his daughter was playing with the soccer ball lying a few feet in front of him. She seemed to be trying to move it the way she saw on TV, except she was instead resorting to crawling on top of it. Amused by her actions, Francois got back up with a huff and walked over to her, taking both of her small hands in his own to stand her up. Upon getting the support she needed, he saw her reaching her legs out to kick the ball.
After this, a brilliant scheme began formulating in the groggy mind of the blonde. This would almost be too perfect.

“Guys, i’m home!” You called out, but was shocked to see that the living room was empty. Honestly, you had quite forgotten how the room even looked without your husband sitting on the couch; though, you could see the mess was still lying there. Upon observing this, you hoped that he had at least begun teaching Adelaide how to walk, like you asked him to; if not, there’d be some serious problems….for him, at least. Beginning your hunt, you wondered where they could've went off to in the house; you checked your bedroom, the nursery, the dining room, and even the kitchen! You didn’t even think to check the backyard (the one scarcely used for anything else besides the occasional late-night beer hangout with friends), until you heard the familiar faint laughter of a little girl coming from behind the house.
Upon looking outside, you were surprised to see Francois skillfully dribbling a soccer ball between his feet, baiting a stumbling Adelaide as she attempted to reach the ball.
“You….I can’t believe you actually did it.” You said in slight awe, unable to mask the genuine surprise in your voice. Francois didn’t take any offense to it though as he then swiftly passed the ball to Adelaide, who dropped to the floor immediately to play with it, before walking over to greet you.
“Welcome back, mon cher. You have a good day?” he asked as he gave you a kiss on the cheek while wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You welcomed his hold with a smile as you responded with content lacing your tone.
“I did, even better now that i see you’ve done some good work while i was gone. Apparently she’s a soccer-fanatic like you, then?” you asked, hugging him around the waist as you gave him a small kiss on the lips.
“Ah, well, at least she had good taste.” he responds lovingly, interrupted when he felt a small tug on his pant leg. Looking down, he saw Adelaide gazing up at him with the soccer ball in hand. It was evident from the look in her eye that she wanted to play with him again.
“Ah, one moment, mon petit.” he dismisses, but is once again cut off when she gives him a set of puppy eyes that could warm the heart of even the coldest man. Seeing the effect it had, you gave Francois one last squeeze before letting go of him to go inside.
“I’ll leave you guys to play for a couple more minutes. Though, i want to see you both cleaned up before dinner.” You said firmly, seeing Adelaide smile upon seeing her father reach down for the ball, to which she happily handed it to him.
“Alright. Now, Adelaide, show papa what you got.” he encouraged as he once again began dribbling the ball away from the toddler, who followed after him with shaky steps.
You prepped dinner by a window so that you could see them playing outside merrily until he finally scooped her up and invited her inside to get cleaned up before dinner.
It was times like these that reminded you how grateful you were to have a great husband and father to your child like Francois. Even if he was a little rough around the edges, it didn't do much to disguise his softer interior that you couldn't help but fall in love with every time.

1529 words 8281 characters

((*long exaggerated sigh* wOW, that took awhile. I just now noticed how many scenarios i have in my inbox that are 2P!France-specific, so i’m wondering why that is. I mean, i already know this particular scenario-theme is popular because of the one i did with 2P!Canada, so was there a recent scenario that you guys really liked with him or something? I can’t help but feel like this i all kinda coordinated XD))


Sam sat besides your sleeping figure, checking your bandages carefully as tears filled his eyes again. At this point, it felt like he didn’t have anymore tears left to shed. If the demon’s bullet struck just a little to the right, you would have been dead. By some chance, the bullet missed your vital organs, but it did cause you to lose a lot of blood. You had been unconscious for a little over 24 hours and Sam and Dean were just hoping that you would wake up soon.

Sam brushed your hair back, his hand brushing gently against the soft, pale skin of your face. He thought that he might have seen movement in your peaceful, sleeping face, but thought against it, believing that his eyes were playing tricks on him. He rested his head against your stomach, careful to avoid your wound, and allowed himself to rest, closing his eyes. He had almost fallen asleep when he felt someone or something touching his hair. He shot up, looking over at you. He instantly relaxed, realizing that you were awake and smiling up at him.

“Hey…” You whispered, as Sam gingerly took your hand in his.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sam smiled at you, relieved to see you awake. He beamed back at you, bring his free hand up to rest on your cheek. You leaned into him, kissing his palm.

“Can I have some water?” You asked, your throat dry and scratchy from not drinking anything for so long. Sam nodded quickly, getting up and getting you a cold glass of water before returning to your side. He handed it to you, helping you sit up. You brought the cup to your lips, drinking slowly, as Sam sat quietly, looking to be deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, your throat feeling much better as you placed the glass onto the bedside table.

“You could've died, (Y/N). The bullet…it was so close. You could’ve…” Sam trailed off as he placed his hand delicately on the bullet wound on your waist.

“But I didn’t. I’m still here, Sam." You responded, smiling. Sam just sighed, not looking you in the eyes.

"I want so much for you, (Y/N)…for us. I want us to be happy. I don’t want to worry about losing you every damn minute, baby.” Sam spoke genuinely, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, Sam…” You whispered, not knowing what to say. Hunting has been a part of your life since you were a kid. You were used to near death experiences, but you understood what Sam was feeling. You had to deal with Sam’s near death experiences and his many deaths.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault we can’t be happy. It’s my fault we can't live in a nice house with a white picket fence. It’s my fault we can’t have a family and I’m so sorry for that, (Y/N).” Sam ranted, as tears filled his eyes. By the end of his little rant, he was shaking gently with sobs.

“No, Sam. Nothing is your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong…” You said, framing his face in your hands. You couldn’t help the tears that pooled in your eyes as well, it just hurt so much seeing the man you love like this. “We can still have that, Sam. We can still be happy.” you smiled at him hopefully.

“I want to build a life and a family with you more than anything, (Y/N). If I could get us out of this life I would.” Sam said pressing his lips to your forehead.

“We can, Sam. One day, you, me, and Dean will get out of this life and be happy.” You smiled at him, bringing your lips to his.

“I hope so, sweetheart. I love you so much.” Sam whispered against your lips, as you pulled back the covers so he could crawl into the bed with you. Sam slid underneath the covers, gently wrapping his arms around you.

“Love you too, Sam. I promise, one day we’ll be living an apple-pie life…” You smiled, resting your head against Sam’s chest.

the mentalist starter sentences
  • "I'm sorry. He irks me. He's irksome."
  • "You're so twisted up in your own dishonesty that you have no idea how to act like a decent human being."
  • "Well, you date pregnant hookers and your dinosaur eats grass!"
  • "I can't imagine waking up knowing that I won't see you."
  • "He stood in my office, looked me in the eye, and lied to me, and I bought it."
  • "You don't give a damn about what I want or need. I am just a convenience for you. You use me. It's all about you."
  • "You're acting cool about stuff I know you can't be cool with."
  • "I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for you."
  • "You are a terrible liar. I like that in a man."
  • "Even a broken clock gets to be right twice a day."
  • "Knowing what people secretly want is what I do."
  • "So we agree. I won't tell anyone if you don't."
  • "If there's one thing this job kills inside, it's a sense of trust."
  • "I understand you very well. Better than you do yourself."
  • "If I can't live on my terms, I'm in prison anyway."
  • "I'm not going to drop everything just because you decided to come back."
  • "I'm done with that life. I did what I had to do, and I've moved on."
  • "Turns out being understood is an underrated pleasure."
  • "Being sorry is far worse punishment than being dead."
  • "You're exactly the kind of man that does terrible things to women."
  • "Believe me, no matter how this turns out, I've made worse mistakes."
  • "He's either a habitual liar telling the truth, or an honest man lying."
  • "Trying to hide the truth chips away at your spirit."
  • "I didn't steal them. I rescued them from a terrible fate."
  • "You're the poster girl for the NRA."
  • "What's going on with you? Couldn't sit down, can't stay still. Guilt conscience?"
  • "What can I say? I always had a thing for the smart guys."
  • "You clean up very nicely, if you don't mind me saying so."
  • "Oh! You got an owwie."
  • "If there's one thing I can't tolerate, it's cheap imitations of my work."
  • "Three hours of brooding silence and then sarcasm. It's like we're married."
  • "What are you, like, five? A little patience here."
  • "Your taste for bad boys is a sad relic of your childhood mistreatment. No need to pick it back up again."
  • "You know that game that kids play? My dad can beat up your dad? No one ever played that with me."
  • "I have to kill you, but I'm doing it from a place of love."
  • "You look beautiful, like a princess. An angry little princess."
  • "Could've been worse. I could have married him."
  • "You should have gone to jail, you miserable sleazebag."
  • "Okay, you know what. You're a wicked charlatan and you're going to hell."
  • "Planning is easy. Reality's a lot harder."
  • "I was thinking love is strange. Then I was thinking about a sandwich."
  • "That man has the conscience of a mollusk."
  • "You'll be fine. Just don't be yourself."
  • "Really, really dead. Wicked Witch of the West dead."
  • "You recognized my footsteps. That's weird."
  • "You're very invested in this 'man in the iron face' routine, aren't you? I bet I could make you cry like a baby."
  • "I swear sometimes I think you need medication."
  • "I don't even need my gun, I can just hit you with my chair."
  • "I need you to visit me. It's really important, I need to see you. Also a blueberry muffin."
  • "The closest a man should come to touching a fitted sweater is helping a woman out of one."
  • "Are we sleeping together?"
  • "We all have to make hard choices. It doesn't make me evil."
  • "You've got a 'bad news' expression on your face."
  • "Deep down inside, you're a cruel man, aren't you?"
  • "I know, I know. You don't know whether to hug me or hit me."
  • "Don't try to divert me with insults."
  • "I didn't say I never did anything bad. I just never got caught."
  • "He's like you. He's all fierce on the outside and a softy on the inside and he's got this squishy little face."
  • "I just had a thoughtless impulse or an inspired hunch. I'm not sure which yet."
  • "Handcuffs, the latest educational tool."
  • "If you try to question her, or even talk to her, I will hurt you badly."
  • "I've been beaten far worse for a lot less."
  • "If you don't get the bad guy, then what's the point of all this?"
  • "Your temples are pulsing like some weird undersea creature. If that's not anger, you should see a doctor."
  • "She believes, poor soul, in a benevolent universe."
  • "He's like a drunk uncle."
  • "It's not gambling if you know you're going to win."
  • "Hell hath no fury like a slut outflanked."
  • "Will you please eat that like a normal human being and not a sea lion?"
  • "In case you haven't noticed, healing isn't my strong suit."