#How to Fix 400 Bad Request

[serankpro]

Fix 400 Bad Request: Small Mistakes That Lead to Big Errors

It’s frustrating when one small mistake leads to a giant wall blocking your online path. That’s what a 400 Bad Request error does. Learning how to Fix 400 Bad Request is often a matter of reversing those tiny mistakes.

Did you copy-paste a weirdly long URL, or leave a rogue character behind while typing it manually? These small errors snowball into big problems.

If the URL looks fine, your next move should be clearing out corrupted cookies and cache. This is where many silent issues hide. Sometimes, browser extensions inject extra headers or modify data—disable them and try again.

Uploading a huge file? That’s another classic cause. Compress it or check your site’s max upload size limit. WordPress users should especially be alert—an outdated plugin or theme might just be the glitch in your matrix.

This guide helps you troubleshoot not just the issue at hand but also adopt habits that prevent the error from returning. Because fixing a 400 error once is great—stopping it forever is even better.

[raeathnos]

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[ghostedgwen]

but I knew you | j.potter [part four]

note : THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE ENTHUSIASM towards this fic! I can't believe I got over 400+ notes on the first three parts. This is wild! I am so grateful for u guys, pls enjoy the final part<33 p.s : my requests are open again if any of u are interested in sending anything

warning : more angst but some cute moment as well, some anxiety on your part but jsut briefly mentioned, James and his relentless firting, I swear this part is kinder, happy ending - sort of

James gets into an accident during a Quidditch game and develop amnesia - he doesn't remember the past 2 and a half years, and he currently has the mentality of fourth-year James. This doesn't bode well for you that your boyfriend of 2 years now currently thinks he's still  in love with Lily.

└——————— - [ 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝚃𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝 - 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚗 ]. +

You cannot believe you are here again.

Watching over his sleeping figure in the infirmary while Madam Pomfrey fuss over him.

You all decided to keep quiet about McLaggen for now, so you lot were being chastised by the matron over the "prank gone wrong" incident that landed James on her lap again.

You could feel the anger bubble in you but kept it at bay as James' well-being came first, obviously.

"Now, I have matters to discuss with Dumbledore so you four can look after Mr.Potter here." He tells you before leaving abruptly.

None of you dared to question her and only watched her leave. Once she was gone, you turn to the other three boys and they kept quiet, seeing the scary expression you had on. Peter looked like he was about to piss himself.

"____," Remus cautiously called out your name. "Are you okay? McLaggen said some vile things back there, we hope you know that we won't let him get away with this."

Sirius huffs. "The bloody fuck we won't, fucker will deserve what's comin' for him when James wakes up."

You nod slowly at them. "Could I - ask for some privacy, with James?" You ask them, watching them all get up and nod at you with sympathetic smiles. "I just, wanna think of what to say once he wakes up and I was hoping to have him all to myself for a bit when he comes about."

"No worries, we understand." Remus tells you and he pats Sirius on their way out as the other boy looked about ready to set the castle on fire. "We'll see you back at the common room."

You give them all the best smile you could muster while they piled out and it was just you left all alone to your thoughts. Your face was immediately  encased in the palm of your hands as you allow your frustrations to settle in.

Having held onto it well enough to get James settled into the infirmary first, you could feel the tears build up. It's already bad enough your boyfriend couldn't remember you, but then he gets injured again - and you feel like everything is your fault.

You missed your James even more.

He would know how to hold you, what to say and just what to give. He always knew you so well that you couldn't even be mad at him for even a minute, he was always quick to melt your resolve and fix anything that is even remotely broken.

James was perfect - so much so that you almost thought the universe had created him exactly for you. All the time he spent chasing after another girl long forgotten when he treated you so well, and not once made you doubt his loyalty -

Lily was a story of a very distant past, but that past has come back to haunt you.

But despite all this, you still love him. It did not waver one bit, despite how much hurt you got from the Quidditch accident, despite the struggle of going through your memories by going around the castle - you still wanted James Potter.

With a resigned sigh, you look up at him again to see his sleeping figure and wondered just how it all went so badly wrong.

You look around the Great Hall pointedly ignoring the way people were whispering as you walked by, it has been like that ever since James Potter very oublicly announced that you werer the new subject of his latest fascination.

At least, that's what you thought. 

There was no way a boy who pined for a girl for 2 whole years would just up and change his mind upon meeting you. He just probably got bored by the same familiar faces in the castle and barely met anyone outside.

You knew you were fresh, and even the other boys in your year wanted their slimy hands on you. You paid them all no mind and headed for the table cluttered with students clad in red and gold. 

Almost full from the attention, you still managed to serve yourself Dinner and pointedly ignored how even the Professors barely concealed their interest in you. You barely made it into Gryffindor, almost getting sorted into Slytherin.

You wondered if Potter's demeanour would be completely different if that was the case. 

You didn't get to think too deeply on it when he made his presence known, pushing aside the 2nd year boy that sat next to you in order to provide space for himself, which he eagerly took with a charming grin your way.

"Oh hey there, ____."

You ignore him. He did not seem fazed one bit as you learned that he's quite used to the treatment, how he's not dying from shame is beyond you. You continue eating until you could barely swallow anything, too uncomfortable from the way he watched you so shamelessly.

"Bloody fuck, what do you want, Potty?"

He lets out an exasperated laugh. "We're on nickname basis, eh?"

"Don't talk to me like we're close, like I like you." you tell him off but he brushed off your harsh words as if they never even left your lips.

"Alright, I'll take it though it's too out of my style -now what to call you. . ." he trailed off, then his lips stretched into a devilish grin. "Pretty girl."

You almost choked in your own spit. "What?"

"Pretty girl, that's your nickname."

"You are unbelievable."

"Thank you." he winks, taking a sip from his goblet.

.

.

"I'm going to be completely raw and honest, and I need you to answer me without any of your jokes and witty remarks," you tell him, biting the insides of your cheeks. "Please tell me it's real."

James frowned, he can see the tears building up in your eyes and it felt like a punch to his gut to see that expression on your face. He was too used to see you either scowling at him or laughing at either his fuck-ups or his jokes, though you admit to hating his audacity, you always laughed when he earned it.

This is new.

This is a new face that he wasn't sure how to process, so he asked - "What do you mean?"

You let a brief moment of silence pass as you gather all your strength to say your thoughts out loud. Nights spent questioning everything, wondering just what and why, you couldn't just come up with the answers yourself, so here you are.

"I need you to tell me it's real. All those months you chased after me, please tell me it wasn't just some game to you to get you out of your rejection streak from Evans - Merlin, please swear to me this is real so I can stop being scared."

His frown deepened, if that was even possible, and he took careful steps towards you. hesitantly grabbing your hand so he can hold it and the action urged you to meet his eyes. Although confusion pooled in them, there was also so much sincerity.

"This is real," James assures you. "This is very real and what I feel for you is not some game. You are not a prize to be won, ____. What are you scared of?"

You let out a humorless laugh as the tears finally fall. "Merlin, I think - I know - I am falling in love with you, and I needed you to tell me it's real because I needed to know it was safe to fall."

James' look of confusion slowly faded away and his pursed lips broke into a wide grin, his hold on your hand tightening as he felt the excitement bubble inside him.

"You don't have to be afraid, pretty girl," James kissed your hand without a second thought. "I will gladly catch you if you fall."

.

.

"James, you're not listening," you tell him with a roll of your eyes and he abruptly stopped whatever he was doing to focus solely on you. "Did you hear a word I said?"

James grinned his charming grin, neglecting to answer you because you both knew what he was gonna say anyway.

You groan. "I said I can't go with you to Hogsmeade, you snogging my face off every chance you get distracted me enough from my Potions essay that is due in 2 days."

James' expression soured at that. "You said it yourself, pretty girl," he smirks with a cross of his arms. "It's 2 whole days away."

"Uh huh, and my parchment is empty, not even a single drop of ink," you roll your eyes again. "Give my lips a break so my hands can get to work - don't even make a dirty joke or I will throw you out."

James let out a bark of laughter. "You can't throw me out of my own dorm room?"

"The bloody hell I will!"

As the memories replayed in your head, you can't help but sink deeper and deeper into your thoughts. The memories always seemed so sweet and innocent, but now had bitter aftertaste from your current predicament.

They did always say to treasure the present, for how quickly it can turn into a distant past - but you are only 17, you didn't think the past would be that far behind you so quickly. 

James would apologize profusely for even bringing up Lily again, he knew how much it scared you to let yourself fall for him. How much you struggled with the vulnerability of being in love, and yet all of that came back to hit you.

You can already tell how dramatic he'd get. Maybe even get on his knees as a grand gesture.

James. . .what would he even say - 

"Galleon for your thoughts, pretty girl?" 

Your head immediately snap to the direction of the voice and you felt your tears finally fall once your eyes met his warm hazel hues. Without even asking any questions, you could already tell that he was back. Your James, he's here.

"Jamey?" You ask, hesitantly approaching him, and he flashed you his famous Potter grin.

"In the flesh," he managed to joke out with a wink. "Mind telling me why my head feels like it got assaulted by bludgers?"

You laughed, throwing your body on him to hug him. The implications could be minded later, you just wanted to celebrate the fact that he's back, you got him back and all your inhibitions melted away.

"You have a lot to make up for," you sniffled, face buried into his neck. 

He hugged you back, his hold on you tight and secure as you allowed more tears to escape your eyes. Your James is finally back, and nothing else mattered for now.

.

Sirius throws his head back laughing, almost spilling the content of his goblet. Remus scooting away to avoid getting any of it to spill on him, making a face at Sirius who failed to see his disgusted expression.

"Fucking hell! We ought to thank McLaggen instead for hitting you," Sirius continues laughing, obviously having had too much Firewhiskey. "Thanks to his cheap ass attack, we got you back, mate!"

James laughed along though his eyes rolled halfheartedly. "Fuckin' twat still has to pay for trying it on with ____."

Remus clears his throat. "He's been hiding from us ever since, quite well, might I add."

Peter laughs from his seat on the floor, lap full of empty snack wrappers. "Least he's got his own head on straight, won't work though."

Sirius finally stopped cackling like a maniac and turned to you who sat on James' lap. "What are you thinkin', ____? Exploding zits? Broken ribs? A broken nose?"

You shake your head with a chuckle. "I am gonna sit this one out. I am just happy James is back."

James smiled at you, making Sirius let out sounds of disgust and Remus with a joking 'boo!' at the cute display of affection. Then Peter perked up from his seat as if he jsut remembered something very important.

"I reckon I've been told McLaggen is deathly afraid of spiders."

the end.

masterlist

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Tags - @sweetstrawberrianne @d1lf-loverrr @hisparentsgallerryy @jaeviii @simp-for-fiction @froggiedragon @paankhaleyaaar @cumuluscranium @acad3miawhore @notmeduhh @cupcakesnviolets @msmarklee1213 @suyaaachin ! Thank you so much for following this fic 🌸

[ssa-dado]

Pride & Pettiness

Aaron Hotchner x deskmate!fem!reader Genre: angst, mutual pining with the same energy of a sitcom Summary: Even the best partnerships - even a fresh one like yours and Hotch’s - had to go through rough patches. But that’s what mentors are for, right? Especially if they happen to be Rossi and Gideon - the undisputed masters of working in a duo. Too bad that even the BAU gods were not immune to human pettiness, and instead of fixing things when you and Hotch each stormed into their offices for advice, they somehow managed to make everything worse. Warnings: Rossi and Gideon, despite technically being your bosses, are way too caught up in their own petty feud to be of any actual help. Instead, they’ve chosen to channel their energy into something far more productive - gossiping about you and Hotch via fax. Because, well, it is the late ‘90s, after all. Word Count: 5.9k Dado's Corner: This piece is based on the first part of a request (and way too many private brainrots) sent by the co-relator of this series @c-losur3 for my 400 followers celebration event YEEEHAWWWW there will be a second part, set many years later… hehehe the angst is never over. Ah, also, the resolution of all of this is so silly. Sorry... I guess.

masterlist

The strongest bond someone working in law enforcement could form was a partnership - two people moving in sync, instinct sharpening instinct, and skill complementing skill.

Plato, in The Republic, had grand ideas about an ideal government ruled by two philosopher-kings - an 'interesting' proposition, considering he just happened to be a philosopher himself.

How convenient.

But the most remarkable part of his argument wasn’t the thinly veiled intellectual self-promotion, it was the number.

Two. Not one.

Because, according to Plato, the only way to arrive at truth was through dialogue, through debate, through the friction of two minds constantly challenging each other.

And while most people would assume that ancient political philosophy had very little bearing on the modern world, somehow, against all odds, Plato’s vision of dual leadership had found a foothold in an institution he probably never would have anticipated: the FBI.

Specifically, in the form of Jason Gideon and David Rossi - two men, one partnership, leading the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

And, much like Plato’s philosopher-kings, they operated under the firm belief that they possessed the wisdom to shape the world around them.

Which was exactly how you and Hotch - through what was definitely pure coincidence and not at all the result of their very deliberate meddling - had ended up as partners.

And now, thanks to their brilliant mentorship, you both found yourselves sitting across from them… airing your grievances about each other.

Of course, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

You had gone to Gideon’s office with the perfectly reasonable intent of professionally complaining about Hotch over a minor misunderstanding. Nothing dramatic, just a slight escalation that 'totally' warranted the intervention of your superior.

Or at least, that’s how Hotch saw it.

Because if you had just communicated like a normal person, you would have told him that you weren’t actually filing a formal complaint, you were just looking for advice.

But no, that would have been too easy.

Which is exactly why Hotch, ever the beacon of patience and maturity, having spotted you doing so, decided to return the favor. If you were going to drag your boss into this, then he was going to do the exact same thing, marching straight into Rossi’s office to even the playing field.

What neither of you could have predicted was that, somehow, a discussion that was supposed to be about you and Hotch had instead morphed into a thinly veiled continuation of whatever unresolved argument Gideon and Rossi had been stewing over for days.

Plato may have waxed poetic about two-person leadership as the pinnacle of governance, but clearly, he had never met Gideon and Rossi - what with him being dead for over two millennia and all.

Minor detail.

“I spent ten - ten - minutes explaining the UnSub’s pattern. Laid it all out, even a metaphor that I thought was particularly strong! And you know what Hotch said? You know what he had the audacity to say?”

Gideon, wisely, did not attempt a guess.

He merely adjusted his glasses and regarded you with the patience of a man who had endured enough existential crises - his own and others’ - to know better than to poke an already burning fire.

“He said-” you inhaled, because even the memory of Hotch’s voice made you feel the heat creeping up your cheeks - from rage, obviously, rage…

…“You’re overcomplicating it. That’s what I told her,” Hotch stated at the same time, on the opposite side of the wall, seated in front of Rossi. “It was just a perfectly rational observation.”

Rossi took a long, slow sip of his coffee. If he had known what he was about to deal with, he would have gladly corrected it with enough whiskey to make this tolerable. “Sure, Aaron. Reasonable.”

"But then she looked at me like I had personally insulted her, completely ignored the part where I agreed with her - just with fewer metaphors - and instead of talking to me like an adult, she stomped off to Gideon." Hotch exhaled, rubbing his temple. "That woman is a -”

He paused, searching for the right word, the perfect descriptor, something that fully encapsulated the absolute trial that was dealing with you.

“…A paradox.”

But no, that wasn’t enough. That wasn’t nearly enough.

“…A walking contradiction. She can read everyone else like a book but when it comes to herself? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She’s-” he exhaled sharply, frustrated beyond belief, “-she’s so infuriating.”

And then he winced.

Because what the hell had just come out of his mouth? A contradiction? A paradox? Was he seriously talking like that now?

Goddammit. You were infecting him.

Meanwhile Rossi, watching him spiral, was mentally preparing himself for the stupidity that was about to unfold.

Because unlike Hotch - who was still stubbornly convinced that this was about anything other than what it actually was - Rossi saw the issue with absolute, irrefutable clarity.

This wasn’t about communication issues.

This wasn’t even about professional disagreements.

This was textbook mutual pining.

And not just any kind of mutual pining - the worst kind.

The kind where both of you were so deep in denial that the only way your brains could cope was by turning every minor inconvenience into a full-blown incident, bickering like an old married couple because neither of you could stand being within five feet of the other without your neurons short-circuiting and risking the horrifying possibility of self-awareness.

It was, frankly, embarrassing.

Rossi knew exactly what he should do.

As Hotch’s mentor, it was his duty to sit him down, force him to face reality, and guide him toward the inevitable conclusion that all of this frustration wasn’t about you being impossible - it was about the fact that he was hopelessly, stupidly attracted to you.

But then he remembered that one time Gideon had acted intellectually superior to him.

And suddenly, this had nothing to do with Hotch and everything to do with the fact that Gideon was wrong about whatever they had been arguing about before.

So, rather than responding to Hotch, Rossi silently reached for his fax machine.

TO: JASON GIDEON

FROM: DAVID ROSSI

SUBJECT: IT’S YOUR KID’S FAULT

Your kid is the reason Aaron has been ranting for five straight minutes without blinking. And while I should be concerned about the blinking thing, I’m honestly more disturbed by the fact that I’ve never heard him talk this much since I met him. It’s unnatural. It’s unsettling. It’s frankly ruining my entire perception of reality.

Fix your kid. She should apologize to him so he finally stops.

You barely registered the whirr of the fax machine as you continued venting, pacing in Gideon’s office.

“What if I’m not enough for him?” you muttered. “I get it, I’d be mad too if I got paired up with someone who’s only been legally allowed to drink for a few months, but at least he could have said it differently.”

Gideon, barely listening - because his brain was currently short-circuiting over the sheer idiocy of Rossi’s latest fax - grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and started typing.

“Don’t worry, I hear you,” he said absently, which, given the circumstances, was not entirely true.

You huffed, still pacing. “He makes it sound like I’m incapable just because I don’t summarize my entire profile in monosyllabic grunts and I don’t stare deep into people’s souls with those unreadable-”

You frowned slightly. “What color are his eyes, anyway?”

That was the exact moment Gideon mentally checked out.

Because while he should have been focusing on mentoring you through this crisis, Rossi had just challenged him.

And there were some things in life that simply could not be ignored.

Like proving David Rossi wrong.

So, without hesitation, he sent his reply.

TO: DAVID ROSSI

FROM: JASON GIDEON

SUBJECT: INCORRECT. TRY AGAIN.

Oh, please. Your kid is the reason my kid has been pacing my office for ten minutes, trapped in an existential spiral so deep she may never escape.

And why? Because your Aaron - stoic, logical, deeply repressed Aaron - is either willfully ignoring her brilliance or is so profoundly distracted by something else (I wonder what that could be, David?).

And now, look at what he’s done. He’s unraveled her. Entirely.

Philosophers have written essays on the fragility of human perception, on the agony of misunderstanding - but even they would struggle to articulate the absurdity of what he’s done here. Because rather than acknowledge the blindingly obvious truth - that he is so disastrously affected by her mere presence that his entire ability to process information has been compromised - he has instead chosen to, what? Dismiss her? Challenge her? Stare at her like she personally upended his worldview and then claim she’s the problem?

So no, David. I will not be fixing my kid.

Fix yours.

Meanwhile, in Rossi’s office, to his absolute horror, Hotch was still talking.

This was unprecedented. Unnatural. Downright unsettling.

Rossi had seen a lot of disturbing things in his career, but this?

This was genuinely alarming.

“I don’t approach profiling the way she does,” Hotch admitted, his voice quieter, almost strained. “I’m not Peter Rogers. I never will be. If she wanted a partner who thinks like that - if she wanted him - I’d understand.”

Ah, Peter Rogers - the one agent in this entire bureau Hotch had the misfortune of knowing, solely because the man had once occupied your desk - which, by extension, meant he had spent far too much time sitting in front of him before you joined the BAU.

That moron.

That living testament to the FBI’s questionable hiring practices.

That bureaucratic seat-filler whose greatest contribution to law enforcement was proving that, apparently, anyone could get a badge.

If Rogers had contributed one remotely valuable thing to society in his otherwise remarkably unimpressive career, it was possessing just enough cognitive function to form complete sentences - and, for some baffling reason, to be your friend.

Which, naturally, checked out - you both had degrees in linguistics, spoke the same academic language, and were intellectually aligned.

Unlike him.

Because, of course, you never let him forget that he had once been a prosecutor - a lawyer - a fact you brought up constantly, with that little glint in your eyes.

Which was, clearly, because you despised him.

Obviously.

That was the reason.

Not because of… well, what other reason could there possibly be? That you liked him? No, that was ridiculous.

Hell, how could you? He barely liked himself.

People like you weren’t supposed to be attracted to someone like him - someone who had zero ability to flirt, zero charm, and zero interest in playing mind games.

Unlike Peter Rogers.

Oh. Again. That bastard.

And so, Hotch exhaled sharply, as if he could physically shake that idiot’s face out of his mind and replace it with something less infuriating… like yours.

Or - Rossi’s.

Anyone’s, really.

It wasn’t specifically your face he wanted to picture. Any face would be fine.

But now that he was picturing yours, he felt… calmer.

No wait, enraged.

Yes. That was what he was supposed to be. Mad at you.

“If she wants someone more in line with her methods, fine,” he muttered, forcing the words out like they physically hurt. “But she could have just told me. We’ve spent months working together - sharing a desk, hotel rooms - why throw all of that away without a conversation?”

Because, really, if you wanted Peter Rogers, you could have him. In fact, Hotch would be thrilled to gift-wrap him for you and never have to see his smug, thesaurus-abusing face again.

…Though, would that mean he’d never again get to see you frowning down at a case file, tapping a pen against the page whenever something didn’t quite add up - waiting, deliberating, until finally, you swallowed your pride, got up from your seat, dragged your chair around your desk, and settled beside him with a barely muttered, "Tell me if this sounds insane."

Would that mean no more of those moments that were supposed to last just a couple of minutes - just a quick consultation - but always, always stretched into something more?

Where your case somehow became his, where the file he’d left open to return to later suddenly had two sets of eyes on it instead of one?

Would that mean no more of those accidental non-accidental moments - like how you both always ended up in the break room at the same time?

And even though there were two coffee pots, you’d linger just a second too long near his, just so he’d sigh, roll his eyes, nudge your elbow, and pour you a cup before you could ask?

Would it mean no more of those quiet, almost too easy nights in whatever godforsaken motel the Bureau had thrown you into, where you sat cross-legged on your bed, case file open but forgotten, sharing a dessert you had insisted on ordering - because you knew he wanted it but would never ask for it himself?

Would it mean no more of those moments where you’d nudge the plate toward him near the end, claiming you were too full, even though he wasn’t oblivious enough to miss the way you always just so happened to stop right before the last bite?

No more of that way you glanced up from your files when you thought he wasn’t looking, brow slightly furrowed, like you wanted to ask him something but weren’t sure how?

No more of you in his space, where he had somehow, stupidly gotten used to you being?

Would that mean no more of those rare, exhausted moments in transit after a long case, like that time on the train back to Quantico? When, somewhere between wrapping up the last loose ends and reviewing the final report, you had dozed off mid-sentence, your head slowly tipping forward before settling against his shoulder?

Would it mean no more of the way he had to fight off a betraying smile - muttering something about how next time, one of Gideon or Rossi should sit beside you before they had the chance to start poking fun at him - when, in reality, he’d never give up that seat for anything?

No.

No, he couldn’t just give you away like that.

That would be insane.

Unfortunately, not as insane as what Rossi was about to tell him.

If only his mentor could read his mind, maybe he wouldn’t have made such a huge mistake out of sheer spite for his own partner, currently seated on the opposite side of the wall.

“Well, kid,” Rossi said casually, leaning back in his chair like he wasn’t about to detonate a nuclear bomb of bad advice. “She doesn’t trust you anymore. Clearly.”

And just like that, Rossi confirmed what Hotch had been trying to push down - what had been ringing in his head ever since you had walked right past him and into Gideon’s office.

Hotch froze in his chair, fist clenched, his thumb already moving along the side of his index finger. “…What?��

Rossi shrugged, as if none of this was a big deal. “She’s already decided you’re not worth explaining things to anymore. She thinks she’s the oracle of who-knows-what, and your job now is to bring her back to earth.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then, with all the confidence of a man giving genuinely terrible advice, Rossi added, “You should get revenge.”

Like this was a completely reasonable course of action.

Like this was not one of the worst things he could have possibly said.

Hotch frowned, fully expecting this to be some kind of joke. “That is not helpful.”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Rossi lifted an eyebrow, looking deeply, profoundly pleased with himself. “Listen, kid, if she doesn’t think you listen to her, then stop listening to her. Completely. Ignore everything she says for the next few cases. Act like her theories don’t even exist. Hell, outright disagree with her just to make her question herself.”

Hotch just stared at him, expression caught somewhere between disbelief and actual concern. “You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious.” Rossi smirked. “You need to win this, Aaron. Make her realize how much she needs you to listen. Make her miss it.”

Hotch blinked. “That is-”

“Brilliant? I know.” Rossi shrugged, feigning modesty. “She thinks she’s above working with you? That she doesn’t need to explain things to you anymore? Then fine. Make her prove it.”

Hotch exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “This is insane.”

Rossi, seeing his hesitation, sighed and leaned back. “Look, Aaron. You came to me for advice. And I’m giving you advice.”

Which was, of course, the only justification he needed before turning to his fax machine with all the righteous indignation of a man personally victimized by his best friend’s existence.

TO: JASON GIDEON

FROM: DAVID ROSSI

SUBJECT: SUCK IT

You ever notice how your kid has a response for everything, until someone dares to disagree, and suddenly, it’s an affront to her entire existence?

Sound familiar, Jason?

Because it should.

She’s got that same holier-than-thou, no-one-understands-my-genius attitude you do, thinking she’s the only one with a fully functioning brain, acting personally offended the second someone suggests she might not be the sole guardian of the truth.

The only thing keeping her from turning into a full copy of you is the massive, pathetic, completely obvious crush she has on Aaron.

I would feel bad for him, but honestly, it’s probably still a better fate than what I’ve been dealing with for years.

At least she’s smarter than you. But then again, so is that half-dead plant you keep on your windowsill.

TO: DAVID ROSSI

FROM: JASON GIDEON

SUBJECT: STOP DIGGING

Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Dave. Aaron’s repression? Learned straight from his brilliant mentor, whose idea of guidance is bad advice and a pat on the back.

And don’t start on my kid when yours is one lingering glance away from self-destruction. If she’s me, then Hotch is just you, with even worse social skills.

Now, unless you want them to figure out we’re talking behind their backs, quit the fax war while you’re ahead.

P.S. The plant is alive, you absolute moron.

It didn’t matter how much the two old men were mad at each other, some things in life were just undeniable truths.

Like the fact that partnerships - the real ones, the ones that settle so deep in your soul they become part of you - created something stronger than just teamwork.

The greatest partnerships - ergo theirs, and, unknowingly to you and Hotch, yours too, despite having far less time to marinate in dysfunction - had a way of forming their own language.

A language of mirroring postures, finishing each other’s sentences, predicting a move before it was even made. A near telepathic connection that let you know exactly what the other was thinking without them having to say a single word.

Some people were just meant to be.

At work, of course.

Not that fate, luck, or - let’s be honest - the sheer misfortune of the universe always knew where to draw the line.

And maybe that’s what Rossi should have told Hotch…

Or - tying it back to the telepathy portion of this completely doomed thesis - what Gideon should have told you.

Because instead of actually helping, they both did what they always did when their own egos got in the way:

They screwed up magnificently.

And gave you the exact same, equally terrible advice – to get revenge.

“…What?” You blinked, certain you had misheard.

“Revenge.” He waved a hand, as if this was a well-established principle of psychology. “If he won’t listen to you, then don’t waste your breath. Let him see how well he does without your insight.”

You squinted. “So… you’re telling me to intentionally not do my job?”

Gideon sighed. “No. I’m telling you to strategically withhold information until he realizes how much he relies on your perspective.”

When you returned to your desk, Hotch was already at his, stiff-backed and stone-faced, his jaw so clenched that you could hear his teeth grinding.

Which was fine.

Because you weren’t speaking to him anyway.

Not that he was speaking to you, either.

Which was also fine.

Except for the fact that Peter Rogers, in all his wheeled-chair-rolling, space-invading glory, had wedged himself directly between you - parking himself right next to you, far too comfortable in a way that made Hotch’s grip on his pen visibly tighten.

"You know," Peter said, "I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you two actually not talking."

You didn’t respond.

Hotch also didn’t respond.

Which, in Peter’s mind, was an invitation to continue. "Okay, what’s going on with you two?"

You both exhaled sharply through your nose and, in perfect unison - much to no one’s surprise except Peter’s - said, "Nothing."

Because him, a smug ass who apparently lived to poke the bear, grinned. “Oh, you two are so in sync.”

You shot him a glare. "Pete, I swear-"

But before you could finish, he leaned back, tilting his chair just enough that Hotch seriously considered kicking it out from under him - especially when he, with all the confidence of a man who had never been punched in the face, set a file down directly in the middle of both your desks, precisely equidistant, like he was deliberately trying to start a fight.

“So, partners,” Peter started, dragging out the word like he knew exactly what he was doing - or maybe, because he was bitter about the fact that he still hadn’t been formally paired with anyone himself. “Thoughts on this?”

“I’ll let Hotch answer first,” you said smoothly, barely glancing up.

Hotch’s eyes narrowed immediately. “No, I insist,” he replied, voice sharp, looking up from his desk.

“Oh, no,” you said, flipping a page in your file with exaggerated care. “I wouldn’t want to overcomplicate things.”

Hotch’s jaw locked.

Rogers blinked, glancing between the two of you. “…Are you two-?”

“Fine,” Hotch interrupted, because the last thing he needed was Peter Rogers analyzing his relationship with you. He turned his attention to the file, scanning it for a total of three seconds before declaring, “This isn’t the UnSub’s pattern.”

“Oh, really?” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because I could’ve sworn that the signatures do match-"

“They don’t,” Hotch countered.

“They do,” you shot back.

“I disagree.”

“Well, I disagree with your disagreement.”

Hotch exhaled. “That’s so childish, it’s not how that works.”

Rogers, still holding the file, hesitated before looking at his own notes. “…Actually, I think-”

Both of your heads snapped toward him so fast it was a miracle he didn’t die on the spot.

“Oh, do tell, Pete,” you said, voice sweet in a way that was clearly threatening. “What do you think?”

“Well,” he mused, rubbing his chin - probably in an attempt to convince the two of you that he was capable of actual thought and not just winging it as usual - “I think I just walked into the middle of a divorce proceeding.”

If he thought that was a joke, he was probably the only person on earth who considered it funny.

Didn’t help that you and Hotch were tough critics at the moment.

“But don’t worry,” Peter continued, absolutely delighted now, “I would be thrilled to play mediator. You know - help you work through your issues, since I’m obviously neutral in this.”

“I mean, I’ve known little Y/N since she was only fifteen,” he said, reaching out to ruffle your hair before thinking better of it, then he turned to Hotch. “And I was your desk mate buddy for two whole years, am I right, Big H?”

Silence.

To top it all off, Peter actually had the audacity to make a stupid finger-gun gesture, wink at Hotch, and fire.

Click. Click.

And was met with absolutely nothing.

Just the coldest, most silent, most deeply unimpressed stare Hotch had ever delivered in his life.

Peter, undeterred, clicked his tongue. “That makes me, what? Your best man, Champ?”

In Hotch’s opinion, that made Peter Rogers the best possible candidate to be murdered right here in the FBI building.

And yet, the absolute audacity of this man.

Something - something trickling at the edges of Hotch’s sixth sense, or maybe just his profiler instincts - had never sat right with him about the way Peter always had to stress that he had known you since you were fifteen…

…While he had been twenty-one.

And maybe Hotch could have voiced that. Could have said something. Could have acknowledged the way that detail had always gnawed at him.

But, unfortunately, Peter was your best friend.

Which meant, for the sake of professionalism, and also the fact that you would probably take a bullet for this absolute idiot, Hotch had to keep that particular opinion to himself.

“Well,” Peter continued, flipping casually through the file like this wasn’t a crime scene in the making, “Don’t you worry, guys. Every great partnership has rough patches.”

He paused, smiling.

“But - I can fix it... it is surely your lucky day. Divorce attorneys are expensive, you know?! And with this pay?!”

Silence.

Nobody laughed.

Again.

"Alright, fine. Moving on," Peter announced, standing up with way too much enthusiasm. "Step one: acknowledging the problem. And for that, we’re gonna do a little trust exercise."

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "Peter, no-"

"Peter, yes," he shot back, already gesturing for both of you to stand up - and, when Hotch predictably refused to move, physically dragging him out of his chair because, apparently, he hadn’t budgeted time for stubbornness today.

"Great! Okay, now come closer - yeah, you stay there - Hotch, maybe less like you’re standing in front of a firing squad… perfect, that’s my man..."

That made Hotch almost roll his eyes.

"Before either of you start whining-" Peter clapped his hands together, "let’s just-"

So, before even finishing his sentence, he shoved you forward.

Directly into Hotch’s arms.

And despite the fact that the last time either of you had done a trust exercise like this was probably in kindergarten, the entire world stopped.

Because for a moment - for one infuriatingly long, electric moment - every single reason you were mad at each other suddenly took a backseat to an entirely different kind of tension.

The kind that was definitely not workplace appropriate.

The kind that had Hotch’s hands tightening around you on pure instinct before he could even process it.

The kind that had your breath catching in your throat when you realized that, yeah, he was definitely built like a solid wall of muscle under that suit.

The kind that made you far too aware of how close his face was to yours, how you could actually feel the faint warmth of his breath against your hair.

The kind that had Hotch’s face immediately turning the exact shade of his tie.

The kind that had you way too afraid to check if yours was the same.

The kind that meant neither of you had stepped away yet.

“Oh.. alright now...” Peter beamed, far too entertained. “hold the pose …and tell each other how you feel.”

Hotch scoffed, like he was seconds away from handing in his badge, changing his name, and disappearing into the mountains to escape this entire mess.

Too bad his body language was telling a completely different story.

His grip on you tightened - just barely, almost imperceptibly - so slight that if you weren’t hyperaware of every tiny shift around you, you might have missed it.

“Look into each other’s eyes,” the idiot instructed, brimming with the confidence of a man whose entire playbook came from a $2 self-help book he picked up at a gas station.

And so you raised your eyes, leaning back slightly - and there he was, already looking at you, his pupils blown wide.

You convinced yourself it was from the shadow cast on him by that one broken lamp you’d been shuffling underneath, the dim light flickering in just the wrong way.

Because there was no way, no possible way, that his pupils were that dilated just from standing too close to you.

Just the lighting.

Just the lighting.

And yet, despite knowing that, your pulse still spiked.

Silence.

Absolute.

Dead.

Silence.

Peter sighed, as he glanced between the two of you, who - after who knew how many seconds - had still yet to utter a single word.

“Do you want me to count to three?” he deadpanned.

And maybe it was true, maybe the greatest partnerships were in sync, maybe they did move in tandem, maybe they did know each other too well-

Because at the exact same moment, you both spoke.

“I’m not enough for you,” Hotch said, voice steady, controlled - wrong.

“I’m too much for you,” you admitted, quiet, careful - wrong.

And then, you both turned to each other, eyes locking, like the other had just said the single most idiotic thing in existence.

More idiotic than Peter Rogers’ entire existence.

More idiotic than every ridiculous word that had come out of his mouth up until now.

“That’s not true,” you said, in sync.

And yet-

You had both believed it.

You had both convinced yourselves that this was the truth for a few hours.

That you were too much - loud, overwhelming, excessive, impossible to follow - while he was not enough - too restrained, too distant, too closed-off, too incapable of keeping up with you.

You stepped back - not entirely, just enough to put space between you, enough to feel the cool air where his warmth had been -

But not enough to look away.

Not enough to actually leave.

Because as much as you loathed to admit it, as much as you didn’t want to acknowledge it, there was something deeply unsettling about the way you had both spiraled into this.

How you had both ended up in opposite places, on opposite sides of the same fear.

And how, somehow, in all of it, the one thing neither of you had ever questioned-

Was each other.

TO: JASON GIDEON

FROM: DAVID ROSSI

SUBJECT: MAYDAY CANCEL PROOF

From the way they’re both storming toward our offices, I have a sinking feeling something’s gone horribly wrong. Yes, they’re dumb, but they’re also profilers. Very good ones.

And sure enough, Hotch burst into Rossi’s office like a man ready to prosecute a case in real-time.

Rossi, already prepared for impact, barely looked up. “Well, to be fair, you came to me for advice. I gave you advice.” He spread his hands like that was a reasonable defense.

Hotch stared at him, unimpressed. "Old man, have you taken your medicine? This is your fault."

Deciding Rossi was no longer worth another second of his life, Hotch turned on his heel and stalked back toward his desk - only to find you already mid-way, coming back from Gideon’s office, looking just as exasperated.

You jerked your chin toward the two closed doors. "They’re still mad at each other."

Hotch sighed. "Shocking."

Your gaze lingered on Rossi and Gideon’s offices for a beat before you spoke again. "Maybe we should intervene… before they cause any more damage."

Hotch gave you a skeptical look. "Do you have a plan?"

The second he saw the look on your face, he groaned. "If we seriously tell them to do a trust exercise, I think Rossi might just file for early retirement." His dimples flashed as he tried - and failed - to keep a straight face… they always seemed to betray him.

"Retire?! And what’s he gonna do to pay the bills? Become a bestselling author?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Oh, please."

You and Hotch had no idea, at the time, just how painfully accurate that little joke would turn out to be.

And you definitely hadn’t anticipated how often it would come back to haunt you - every single time you collapsed onto your shared couch, exhausted but grinning, only to glance at the monstrous, leather-bound book sitting on your coffee table.

A book that contained every single fax Rossi and Gideon had ever exchanged, all meticulously preserved and bound, because apparently, their legacy wasn’t their actual contributions to criminal profiling, but rather their collective inability to mind their own damn business.

It was your favorite bedtime read.

Except for the times when you were too busy doing things that two newly engaged lovebirds, in a brand-new home, had far better uses of their time for.

You both made sure to put the book away when that happened.

Because somehow, despite knowing full well that Rossi and Gideon were nowhere in your house, the sheer existence of that book made you feel watched.

Unfortunately, this time, your Aaron - who had been mindlessly flipping through its pages - suddenly froze.

"...No."

You, half-dozing against him, cracked an eye open. "What?"

He cleared his throat, stiffened, and angled the book just enough so you could see the offending text exchange.

TO: JASON GIDEON

FROM: DAVID ROSSI

SUBJECT: START STEAMING YOUR GOOD SUIT, OLD MAN

Because I bet they’re getting engaged in three years.

TO: DAVID ROSSI

FROM: JASON GIDEON

SUBJECT: THREE IS GENEROUS

For how it’s going, I give them two.

Silence.

You and Hotch stared at each other.

Then, in perfect unison - "They forgot to add ten."

Which felt even sweeter when Aaron pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin.

“…Aaron,” you murmured, fingers threading through his hair, already tugging just enough to make him hum.

“…Yes, honey?” he replied softly… knowing.

You smirked. “Could you hide the book?”

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest - because, oh, he knew exactly what that meant.

Still, with a reluctant sigh - because this required temporarily leaving your side - he stood, barely resisting the urge to toss the damn thing across the room. Instead, he made his way to the bookshelf, scanning for a worthy hiding place.

“What about behind this one?” he asked, holding up a book.

You barely glanced at it before nodding. “That’ll do.”

Aaron exhaled, shaking his head as he returned to the couch - where, of course, you immediately pulled him back down into your space, arms wrapping around him like he'd been gone for years instead of thirty seconds.

"There," he murmured against your hair , lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Book’s hidden."

Hidden.

Buried.

Tucked away behind Plato’s The Republic.

Fitting, really.

that absolutely incredible gifset I used is by the insanely talented @holoship AAAAA I LOVE YOUR GIFS

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @oxforce ; @percysley ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[kaden9]

Jinx x GN!Reader headcannons (sfw)

word count: ~400

CW: Mentions of guilt, emotional outbursts, tension after arguments, and retreating behavior

(requested by: @the-goblin-that-eats-your-taxes )

• Playful Teasing

Jinx loves to tease you, especially when you’re trying to be serious. Expect playful comments or her pulling funny faces to keep things light. She thrives on making you smile when you’re trying to stay composed.

• Protective Streak

Jinx may seem wild, but in quiet moments, she’s surprisingly protective. She’ll tuck you under her arm when you’re watching TV or hold you close during storms, her chaotic side subdued by the need to make sure you’re safe.

• Spontaneous Adventures

She’ll drag you on spontaneous adventures, like a midnight snack run, lighting fireworks just for fun, or pulling off a random heist because why not? The thrill of the moment is her favorite, but she always looks to you for the extra bit of excitement.

• Tension After a Fight

When things get rough between you two, Jinx’s chaotic energy is more frantic, her eyes wild as she tries to talk herself out of how she feels. She might push you away, only to regret it moments later, her guilt eating away at her.

• Affectionate in Her Own Way

Jinx might not say “I love you” often, but she shows it in small, tender ways—fixing your hair, sharing her favorite snacks, or staying in bed with you when you’re feeling down. It’s her form of affection, one that feels all the more meaningful because it’s hers.

• Isolation After a Mess-Up (Angsty)

When Jinx messes up—whether it’s something big or small—she retreats into herself. She might lock herself in her room, unsure of how to make it right. It’s in those moments that you have to decide whether to let her be or break through her walls.

• Comforting in Her Own Way

If you’re having a bad day, Jinx’s comfort is the quirky, offbeat kind. She might hand you a random trinket, crack a joke, or drag you to do something totally ridiculous to take your mind off things. It might not always be what you expect, but it’s always just what you need.

• Guilt

Jinx feels everything deeply, even when she hides it behind her wild energy. If she feels like she’s hurt you in any way, even unintentionally, she’ll drown herself in guilt. You might catch her staring out into space, lost in thought, fighting off her inner demons.

• Shared Quiet Moments

After a long, chaotic day, Jinx enjoys those rare, calm moments with you. Whether it’s laying in bed, sharing stories, or simply holding each other as you both relax, it’s her way of finding peace amidst the storm.

• Sudden Emotional Outbursts

When her emotions get the best of her, Jinx might lash out unexpectedly. It could be frustration, fear, or simply the overwhelming pressure of everything around her. In those moments, she’s not always sure how to express herself, leaving things unsaid and tangled between you.

[kamisatomay018]

It’s called being in love, Silly!

Neuvillette x fem!reader

angst with lots of comfort, very fluff, our poor hydro dragon struggling to understand his feelings. I hope you enjoy<3

It had been raining in Fontaine for 4 days straight now. No one knew why, yet the citizens were so used to the unstable weather conditions that all they could do was grumble about it and continue with their day. The cause of this endless rain happened to be sitting all alone in his huge office, staring blankly on the papers sitting on his desk, too lost in thought to do anything.

Neuvillette had a hard time understanding human emotions, despite being among them for over 400 years now. And just when he thought he was beginning to understand emotions like joy, sorrow, guilt, surprise and what not, a new emotion unlike any other came crashing down on him, that too unexpectedly: Love.

Sure, he had seen many, many people in love over these years. He had witnessed the love between couples, between families, friends and had read about it too, but he had never experienced it, until that one fateful day when his eyes landed on you, crouching down to examine a rainbow rose that had been crushed and withered, only to fix it using your dendro powers. He couldn’t help but be captivated by you instantly. While most humans would simply ignore the flower or throw it away, here you were, fixing it and giving it another chance to bloom again. He had also noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were, and for the first time in his long life, he felt such weird feelings within him- his heartbeat accelerating, his stomach feeling uneasy. Only he knew how many glasses of water it had taken for him to return back to normal. And as if it was written in the stars, he kept encountering you often, and in the blink of an eye he developed..strange feelings for you. He loved being in your company, he shared his worries with you, your presence felt serene and your words would calm down the crashing waves in his heart.

To his utter surprise, one day he found himself standing in front of you, hearing your honeyed voice shyly confessing your love for him, and ever since that day, you both had decided to take a chance at being together. Neuvillette was very inexperienced when it came to love and he had told you that very honestly, but you were ready to teach him, to be patient with him. 8 months had passed by since, and it’s safe to say that he had been very happy in your company. Sure, he was still awkward and stiff, not initiating physical contact or romantic gestures because he just couldn’t understand them, but he was also a great lover. Always calm and gentle, taking care of your every necessity, taking note of your likes and dislikes. He had even opened up to you about being the hydro dragon sovereign, about his past and his hobbies. To his delight, you always tried to indulge in his hobby of water tasting, even listening to his intricate explanations about the taste of the water from each land. If things were going so well, then what could’ve possibly happened that made the hydro dragon so upset?

Well, two months ago you had moved into his apartment upon his request, and you both had developed a morning routine soon enough. Your love language was physical touch, but you always made sure to respect Neuvillette’s space. You both had not even shared a kiss yet, and the only skin ship, aka hugs and holding hands, had been initiated by you always. But of course, you didn’t mind because Neuvillette wasn’t a bad lover, he just needed time. After moving in with him, you had requested him to let you do his hair, for you absolutely loved caressing his long locks. His draconic features were so fascinating for you, and doing his hair would give you the excuse of admiring them up close. He had agreed, and ever since then, every morning you’d help him get ready, making sure the Iudex looked dapper and proper for his job.

However, a week ago, while brushing his hair, you had very softly caressed his horns, an action that had made his body stiffen and his breath hitch. Various insane emotions had emerged that very moment, emotions like his heart literally skipping a few beats, his stomach feeling all uneasy again and chills running down his spine. He hadn’t complained however, so you thought that he was okay with it. You continued doing that for the next three days, until the following morning, to your surprise and agony, Neuvillette had very stiffly asked you to not touch his horns.

You apologised immediately, trying to control the ache in your heart, blinking away the tears burning in your eyes. There was an awkwardness in the air that morning, and you hadn’t even hugged him goodbye as he left. How could you? Insecurities stirred in your heart, as you felt that your touch made him uncomfortable, because his tone wasn’t soft, it was stiff and hurried, which made your heart sink in hurt. That day you sat alone on the couch, overthinking about your relationship with neuvillette. Had he ever told you that he loved you? …No, he had not..he had told you that he liked you, liked being around you on the day you confessed your love for him, and had accepted your feelings. Was it out of pity? You had never told him how you longed for his warmth, for him to just hold you close, for him to at least kiss your forehead, or hold your hand. It was always you, and now he had asked you to not touch him. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and from that day, you had stopped initiating physical contact with him. Yes, you still did his hair, but you never hugged him anymore, you never held his hand, never touched his horns.

Neuvillette on the other hand, felt yet another wave of emotions crash down on him because of your distance. Why were these feelings so complicated? Ever since then, rain had been pouring down on Fontaine. Now he felt himself miss your embrace, the feeling of your smaller hand holding his. He had noticed the sadness looming in your beautiful eyes, how you had been more silent, how there was a heaviness between you both that neither of you spoke about. He truly hadn’t meant to hurt your feelings, in fact, all of this was a huge misunderstanding.

The reason why neuvillette asked you to not touch his horns was because he was shy! When you caressed his draconic features with so much love and care, it made his heart jump, his ears turn slightly red while he bit the inside of his cheek to not burst into his biggest smile. It felt weird- but in a way that was too good for him to handle! He just couldn’t understand what was going on with him. Is this what love is like? And why is it so darn difficult? There were so many things he wanted to say to you, but he held himself back. He wanted to hug you so tight, smother you with kisses and cling onto you, after all he was a dragon who was touch starved. But his mind told him that these thoughts were inappropriate, which caused him to come off as rude and cause that dreaded incident, which had now ruined everything. Just why couldn’t he improve, and be a good lover? Surely, he didn’t deserve an angel like you.

Today morning, he had invited Furina to visit him in his office to discuss this issue with her. She may not be an archon anymore, but she was still his dearest friend in whom he placed great trust. When he told her about all of this, to his shock, she burst out laughing! “Hahaha, oh my goodness Neuvillette!” He looked at her, absolutely baffled. “Miss Furina, I do not understand how any of this is funny.” After what seemed like ages, she calmed down her laughter, looking at him with an expression which indicated that everything was so obvious. “All the feelings you’re experiencing is called being in love silly! You’re in love with her, and such things happen! The uneasiness in your stomach is what humans like to call butterflies in their stomach, and is good! It is not wrong to crave her touch, to want to hold her close! In fact, I’m sure she must be dying to feel your affection in these 8 months!”

Neuvillette processed each word carefully, guilt seeping into his heart slowly. “So..you mean to say that..” Furina looked at him with a soft smile, nodding. “Yes, you have hurt her feelings, yes, you might have made her feel insecure. But! It’s not too late! Go talk to her, be honest about your feelings. Tell her that you love her.” Neuvillette looked down in remorse, realisation about many things settling in his mind. “I…have been a terrible partner to her..Will she even forgive me?” Furina placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling assuringly. “She loves you, and she understands you. But unless and until you’re honest with her, she can’t help you right? I’m sure she’ll forgive you, but you will have to make sure to not let her down.” “I cannot lose her, I’ll be sure to be a better partner..” Furina smiled happily, getting up. “Well then it’s settled! Good luck Neuvillette!” He smiled fondly, thanking her dearly. His mind was made up; tonight he would apologise for his behaviour and be completely honest with you.

Looking outside the window, you sighed softly seeing the rain. You weren’t a fool, you knew that something about you was bothering him. But what had you done now? You both had been so distant, so awkward since that incident that it was tearing you apart now. But if this is what he wanted, you could do nothing but respect his wishes. Sighing softly you heard the door to your apartment open, going like usual to greet him. However, today, for the first time you saw Neuvillette standing in front of you, a bouquet of fresh and glowing rainbow roses in his hand along with your favourite desserts. “Neuvi..?”

What he did next completely knocked the air out of your lungs, and took the words right out of your mouth- literally. The next thing you felt were the softest pair of lips against your own, making you freeze for a moment. Neuvillette had kissed you? On his own? But your body reacted faster than your brain, melting in his embrace as you gladly returned his kiss. Oh archons, nothing could feel better than this. Your lips moved together in perfect harmony, crashing together like the waves gently crash against the ocean floor. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he pulled you closer, losing himself in the feeling of this foreign sensation. Your hearts were beating together in sync, faster than ever.

He then pulled apart ever so softly, opening his beautiful lilac eyes, staring at you with such tenderness that it made your cheeks flush. “Mon amour, I am so terribly sorry..I have been a bad lover..” You frowned at his words, cupping his cheeks softly. “No neuvi, don’t say that..” He shook his head, hugging you close, and you felt his body relax and melt into yours, just like you. “It’s the truth darling..please forgive me, I never meant to hurt your feelings that day, I never felt uncomfortable..I..I wish to be completely honest with you, and what I’m about to say might sound..ridiculous at best..” You smiled softly, glad to finally be able to talk to him, moreover be in his embrace. “Your feelings are never ridiculous..please talk to me, I’m right here to listen.”

He took a deep breath, being completely honest with you. “The truth is..that I want nothing more than to be close to you..I crave your touch, I crave to hold you close, for my draconic instincts make me naturally possessive and clingy towards you..When I am with you, my heart goes insane, I get butterflies in my stomach, I feel…shy, but so happy…However, these feelings are so foreign to me, that my mind makes me think it is..inappropriate. My lack of knowledge about love makes it worse..the truth is that my thoughts have been holding me back from being completely honest with you, and I know it is in no way an excuse that can justify my behaviour..I have made you feel unloved and insecure, and that fact alone is the biggest punishment for me..”

To say that your heart melted in an instant was an understatement. You felt so relieved, so glad that he was finally honest with you. You understood his feelings, you knew love was so complicated, and with him being a dragon, all these emotions were unnatural for him. As humans, fantasising about love and experiencing it is very simple. But neuvillette has been alone all his life, and love is far from what he has ever received. “Oh Neuvi..I understand you, but these feelings aren’t wrong! If your instincts tell you to hold me close, then please do it! I won’t be uncomfortable, in fact I crave your embrace..I feel so comforted and safe in your arms, your touch feels warm and gives me unexplainable joy..”

Neuvillette looked into your eyes, in disbelief that he had found the most kind, understanding and beautiful woman as his lover. “I..cannot thank you enough for how patient and understanding you’ve been with me..I give you my word, I will be better for you Mon Amour.” You gave him that sweet big smile of yours, one that always made his heart skip a beat. “You are the best already! You just need to let go of your formalities and be yourself with me..I promise you, I will not leave you..I love you for who you are Neuvillette..”

“I love you too Mon Amour..”

Your eyes widened, and at that moment you felt joy unlike any other. Finally, he said it. “Say that again, please..” He chuckled softly, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. “I love you so much..” you laughed out of pure joy, hugging him so tight, feeling ecstatic. Your joy was contagious, for neuvillette felt himself smile wide, caressing your hair softly. “As..for what happened that morning..you touching my horns didn’t make me uncomfortable..On the contrary, it made me..extremely flustered and shy, it felt very soothing but so..unexplainably foreign that I asked you to stop, which I never wanted..I suppose I didn’t expect anyone to admire my draconic features like that..”

You pouted at his words, looking up at him sweetly. “But your features are absolutely beautiful! I love how unique they make you, that is why I wished to admire them…after all I want to love every part of you equally..” Hearing your words, Neuvillette let out a breath of relief “I do not deserve you..” You smiled at him, leaning into his touch. “On the contrary, you are the only one who deserves me..Don’t be afraid to be vulnerable and shy in front of me, it’s all normal! Besides, I love it when you smile, it makes me happy..”

He ends up laughing softly at your words, a sweet pink tint adorning his cheeks “If that’s the case Mon amour, then I’m afraid you’ll have to smile more, for your happiness is contagious in the best ways possible..” Both of you giggled at that, a newfound sense of love blossoming in your hearts. Your bond had strengthened even more, the rain had completely stopped while all the flowers in Fontaine were in full bloom. Perhaps being in love isn’t that complicated, Neuvillette thought. With you by his side, he’s sure he’d learn in no time.

[meowzfordayz]

skin

Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~400

CW: none

Emergency Request Fulfilled:i was wondering if u could write ab giyuu with a reader whos insecure ab acne/bad skin?

“Giyuu, how is your skin always so perfect?”

Giyuu’s ribcage expands with a strange tightness as you stare at him in the bathroom mirror, the nonchalant act of smearing shaving cream on his face suddenly weighing on his shoulders. He isn’t that oblivious. He knows, without even meeting your gaze, what you’re really telling him.

“I drink a lot of water?” he murmurs, halfhearted puff of air condensating in front of him, “I don’t know.”

He sees the lack of satisfaction in your twitching smile, heart clenching at the depth of your discomfort. Fingers hovering over his razor, he lets out a quiet sigh, instead turning to grasp your hands.

“Can you be honest with me?”

His question comes gently. Carefully. With the tender concern that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

You shrug, “Sure,” cracking a wry grin as you tack on, “But just so you know, it’s kinda hard to take you seriously when you’re covered in foam.”

He doesn’t mean to offend, but he decidedly ignores your playful remark, eyes soft as they strip you to your bones.

“I love you. I love you when you have a bajillion pimples. I love you when you have one. I love you on days when you use ten different cleansers and creams. I love you on days when you use only one or two. It hurts me when you touch your skin with such frustration and distaste, because I love you. But I know I’m lucky. My skin is clear. I don’t deal with any pain or discomfort because of it. And admittedly, I don’t quite understand you, though I most definitely love you.”

“Giyuu,” your voice cracks, thin layer of humorous pity peeled back by his unrelenting honesty, “All I said was-”

“I know,” he interrupts you, the fragility of your tone making his stomach roil, “But this isn’t about me. This is about you. I love you.”

“Love won’t fix my skin,” you mutter, throat thick with emotion as he slowly wraps his arms around you.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

You let him hug you, your cheek turning to press into his chest, your own grip clutched to the hem of his shirt.

“For what it’s worth,” he rasps, “I think you’re beautiful.”

He knows thought isn’t enough. Knows your insecurity isn’t a feeling he can dispel with something as intangible as love. But he knows he wouldn’t change you for the world, nor would he ever try.

[danikamariewrites]

Could I please make a request for 'Cadre part2' maybe some hurt/comfort were reader and Lorcan get into another fight and he says something that hurts the reader, so reader decides to ignore everyone the Cadre until he gives them a proper apology.

Not on Speaking Terms

Cadre x reader

A/n: please accept this peace offering until I’m in a smutty mood again. I’m so sorry for the wait on part 2, I genuinely feel bad bc you guys have been asking for more so I decided to get this one done tn ❤️❤️

Warnings: hurt/comfort poly relationship, and Lorcan being a dick

“I can’t with this right now Lorcan.” You growl out, stomping down the hall to your bedroom. “Yes, we’re doing this now!” His booming voice catching up with you as he jogged to catch up with you. “You’re being selfish and you aren’t listening to me.”

That made you stop dead in your tracks. He saw your shoulders stiffen as your back straightened. You quickly turned on your heel to face him with rage simmering in your eyes. “You did not just say that to me.” You growled.

After that exciting night in the war tent with the boys you all realized there was something more than sexual attraction. You truly love all of them and they love you. When you woke up in the middle of the night you found you had been moved to the bigger bed. You were still on Gavriel’s chest. As you blinked the tiredness from your eyes you found the rest of the males asleep next to you.

At breakfast the next morning Fenrys had shamelessly brought up the subject, wanting to clear the awkwardness from the group. The White Wolf winked at you as the conversation started. Since that morning you officially started dating Rowan, Gavriel, Fenrys, and Lorcan.

It was tough to make sure you spent an equal amount of time with each of them at first. They all tended to be jealous and territorial. Especially Lorcan. You knew he and Rowan had a history of having the same partner, but he wasn’t used to this. You and Lorcan got into little spats here and there when he wouldn’t listen to you or give you space when you needed it. Lorcan loves you so much and just wants to make you happy. He just has trouble with his emotions sometimes.

During training g this morning you and Lorcan got into one of those slats that somehow escalated when you were trying to explain to him why you aren’t doing anything with any of the boys today. The fact that Lorcan is calling you selfish while you continuously put off plans to be with him when he felt neglected is insane.

“Stay away from me.” You said before turning away to hurry to your room. You didn’t see Lorcan’s hurt expression from your harsh command. He didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. But if you wanted space Lorcan would let you have it.

You locked yourself in your own bedroom for the rest of the day. You didn’t even come out for dinner. A little after seven there was a knock on your door. “Y/n,” Fenrys calls out. You didn’t want to hear it. “Go away Fen!” Your tone left no room for argument. He sighed and shuffled away.

Rowan, who can always talk to you was shut out next. Even Gavriel. The most level headed one was turned away. But he wouldn’t give up. Gavriel came back to your room on the morning asking what happened. You whip the door open to find him with his arms crossed, an exasperated look on that gorgeous face. His tawny eyes sparkled with mischief. His face quickly fell when he noticed your puffy eyes and red cheeks.

“What?” Your voice monotone. Gavriel clears his throat trying to not let your attitude throw him off. “I wanted to talk to you about yesterday. Lorcan didn’t give us the full story and I want to help you two-“ “No.” you cut him off. You knew where this was going. Gavriel wanted to help you two come to a compromise so you could fix whatever has happened between you. Not this time.

“That’s not how it’s going to work this time. Until Lorcan can be a big boy and have a conversation with me himself I’m not speaking to any of you. The male is 400 years old.” You slam the door in Gavriel’s face so hard his hair flys back.

Lorcan feels guilty. He really does, but he hates admitting he’s wrong. Gavriel and Rowan told him he’s on his own and that you were right, he needs to start fixing problems with you on his own or Lorcan wouldn’t have you any more.

It took all day for Lorcan to rehearse what he is going to say to you. Fenrys laughed when he caught Lorcan talking to himself in the mirror. But the pup did give good advice, “Go with what your heart tells you. Not what you can come up with in your mind, it isn’t authentic.” When the hell did Fenrys get so wise, he thought to himself.

Taking a deep breath, Lorcan collects himself and lightly knocks on your door. “Who is it?” You call out. “It’s me, can I come in sweetheart.” He hears you groan along with the blankets shuffling as you roll over. Lorcan contained his annoyance and entered your room. You let out another loud groan and pull the blankets over your head. Lorcan makes his way over to the bed. When he sits the mattress dips a noticeably amount thanks to his large body.

“Can we talk?” He asks softly, resting a hand on your calf. “Fine.” You sit up letting the blankets fall off leaving your hair a frizzy mess. Lorcan huffs out a quiet laugh, a small smirk pulling at his lips as he reaches out to smooth out your hair. “I’m sorry I called you selfish. I was just…I didn’t understand that you needed space.”

“It’s not just my space. I just wanted you to understand that I give up a lot when you ask for me. I love you Lorcan, and I don’t want us to keep having these fights.” Lorcan cups your face and you lean into his touch. “I promise I’ll work on it. I love you sweetheart.” He leans forward kissing your forehead. “Goodnight, I’ll let you get some sleep.”

He stands ruffling your already messy hair a little. You grab his hand and pull Lorcan back to your bed. “Wait. I’ve been alone too long and I miss you guys. Can we all sleep together?” Lorcan gave you the biggest smile you’d ever seen from him. He quickly scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You giggle as he runs down the hall to your shared room with the boys.

[adriellej]

Destiel Headcannon - Migraines

Warnings: Nothing really, just Dean and Cas trying to be mindful of reader. 

Pairings: Destiel x Reader

Word count: 400+

A/N: I hope this is okay, I haven’t actually done Headcanons before, so that’s a first for me! I hope it’s what you wanted <3 I’m sorry to hear that you suffer from migraines. It sure isn’t fun to have to deal with. And so sorry it took so long to get to!

Request: Hey! can you do some Destiel x reader headcanons for a reader who struggles with migraines 24/7? I've been struggling with them for 3 years now. If this isn't your thing, I completely understand! @lokischickadee

When did they first realize you suffered from migraines?

Dean noticed one time when you were researching on a current hunt and you were rubbing your temples and eyes more than usual. He’d ask about it and you’d brush it off at first. He’d let it go until the pain would cause you to whimper and shy away from light and sounds.

Castiel noticed it before Dean, because he’d spent so much time observing humans, and he had truly spent many hours watching you. He wouldn’t understand much about it at first, he’d just notice you acting differently on the bad days of your migraines. He’d caught you taking some meds against it and asked about it. You’d been too tired to pretend it was nothing, so you had told him. You’d asked him not to tell Dean, and Cas always keeps his promises.

How do they feel about it?

Dean tries his best to comfort you, not only for you but also for himself. It hurts him when you’re in pain. He’d wish he could take it all away from you, he’d gladly take the pain instead of you. 

Castiel finds it hard to handle. He’d tried to heal you several times without any success. It would be frustrating for him, he’d feel less of himself because he couldn’t fix it for you. It was causing him to worry a lot more about you, and notice the slightest changes in your behavior. 

What do they do to try and make you feel better? 

Oh but these two working together to try and help you out, that was always a sight to be seen. They’d try and google their way through it at first, trying absolutely everything that Google said could potentially help ease the pain. They’d ask Sam to read up on it and help them come up with ideas. 

They’d make sure you didn’t skip meals, even though you said you weren’t hungry. They’d try to keep the lights off in the bunker, sometimes for them to stumble over things because they couldn’t see a damn thing. They would put cold towels on your forehead hoping the temperature change would help, and alongside that, they would also make you herbal tea to drink. 

Dean and Cas weren’t normally quiet when in company with each other and you, but on the bad days they’d be almost completely silent, only whispering to one another and you. They’d get angry at Sam for being too loud. 

But most of all, they would cuddle you day in and day out to help you sleep.

Tags (old tags, if you don't want to be tagged anymore, just let me know): @deans-cherry-pie1 @phoenixia67 @shadowpriestess6 @faith-in-dean @mysupernaturalfics @mrswhozeewhatsis @blacktithe7 @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @liger26 @poemwriter98 @lycangirl44 @aprofoundbondwithdean @harley7509  @chaos-and-the-calm67​  @leatherandwinchesters @that1awkwardfangirl @loveitsallineed   @1dstudyblr​   @irishdoll80​   ​ @blushingsamgirl @sis-tafics  @supernatural67brokenwings​  @ledledledledled​ @ilostmyshoereads @talesoftheimpala

[writingwhimsey]

Married to The Enemy - Shingen Ch. 60

Thank you all for being understanding about why I have been away. I will work on the 400 follower requests as I feel able to. Just honestly, Shingen is my comfort character and working on this fic is something that I find comforting. So, it feels good to work on this fic as I try to make sense of the world again and adjust to whatever the "new normal" for my family is. Thank you all for being so understanding and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 60

Immediately after meeting everyone at the gate, we all headed inside. Masamune headed for the kitchen and Oba-san decided to join him…insisted on it actually. She had informed him that she had heard so much from me about his cooking, she wanted to see it first hand…and also wanted to share recipes between the two of them.

It didn’t take them long to have a grand feast whipped up and we were all gathered in the main hall. Shingen held my hand as I took my seat beside him. “Don’t think you get to keep the lass all to yourself. You’ve had her for six months.” Masamune said as he sat down at my other side, putting a tray piled high in front of me.

“I still don’t understand why you had to be away for so long. Clearly with as far along as the little mouse is, it didn’t take very long.” Mitsuhide teased as he came to join our loose circle as well.

I felt my cheeks reddening. “I believe I already mentioned we were visiting my hometown.” I replied, picking up my chopsticks.

“So, he didn’t entirely have her to himself.” Oba-san said, joining the group and sitting by Mitsuhide.

Slowly everyone else came to join the group, forming a loose circle. I’m not entirely sure how, but Oba-san was between Mitsuhide and Nobunaga. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Your grandmother has chosen an interesting seat.” Saki said with a grin. “Reminds me of your first night in Azuchi.”

“Don’t remind me about that…especially since I can’t drink to forget.” I replied. I decided to stuff my face instead.

“Was it that bad?” Shingen asked me.

“So much teasing.” I replied.

“Pretty sure the lass was glowing bright enough that we didn’t need any lanterns in the dining hall that night.” Masamune teased.

“And if you think you’re not going to be in for a bunch of teasing tonight little mouse.” Mitsuhide informed me.

“Yeah, you did leave on an extended honeymoon and come back pregnant.” Keiji agreed, grinning at me.

I felt my cheeks heating up instantly. “You know, this is some excellent grilled fish.” I said, digging into the food. 

Masamune chuckled and reached a hand over to ruffle my hair affectionately. “And these cute reactions are one of the things we’ve missed about you, lass.”

I swatted Masamune’s hand away. “Hey, you’ll mess up my hair. Shingen did a really good job fixing it for me.” I protested.

“I can fix it back into place for you, my angel.” Shingen said, his large hands going to smooth my hair back into place.

Nobunaga let out an amused chuckle. While Hideyoshi’s eyes widened in surprise.

Shingen looked at Nobunaga, a chill in his gaze. “Do you find something amusing?” He asked Nobunaga. “Or do you find something surprising?” He asked Hideyoshi.

“I find lots of things amusing.” Nobunaga replied, a haughty smile on his face.

“I just…I never thought you would be the type…” Hideyoshi replied. “You were always such…woman chaser. I never knew you could truly settle on one woman and treat her properly.”

Shingen frowned at Hideyoshi. “As if you have room to talk about multiple women.”

“He does have a point there, Hideyoshi.” Mitsuhide replied.

“I…it’s not the same.” Hideyoshi countered.

I sighed. “Shingen’s past doesn’t matter to me.” I said, looking at Hideyoshi. “He has been nothing but a perfectly wonderful and loving husband to me and he’s going to be a great father to our baby.”

Shingen smiled at me as he wrapped an arm around my waist and hugged me closer. “And you’re such a wonderful wife. I can’t help but to want to dote on you and take care of you and treat you as the princess you are.”

“Ugh, can you two just stop it with that crap. You’re gonna make me sick.” Yukimura groused, making a face of disgust.

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but I agree with Yukimura.” Hideyoshi said. “There are some things that should be saved for when you’re alone.”

“Can’t really say I blame Shingen.” Masamune said, grinning at me. “Our lass is pretty cute. If she were my wife, I’d want to kiss her all the time.”

“Don’t forget keep her pregnant.” Keiji teased.

I felt my cheeks heating up from their teasing. I reached over and slapped Masamune on the arm. “Stop saying stupid stuff like that. People might start taking you seriously.”

Masamune grinned. “People or just your husband?”

I just glared at Masamune, which only seemed to make him and everyone else laugh in amusement.

“Oh, that’s such a cute glare.” Masamune said, his grin widening.

“Not a very threatening look.” Mitsuhide teased.

“Yeah, she looks a bit like a kitten when it first learns to hiss.” Keiji added.

“The glare we are all getting from Shingen is a bit more threatening, though.” Nobunaga said, an amused smirk on his face.

I then looked over at Shingen who was looking at Nobunaga…and if looks could kill Nobunaga would be on the floor dead. I reached my hand over and placed it on his. Shingen looked over at me, the icy look on his face melting in an instant, a warm smile replacing it.

He lifted a hand to gently stroke my cheek. “You need not look so concerned, my angel.” He told me. “You need not worry about me. Just enjoy the party and the food.”

“Ugh, if I would have known this banquet would turn into THIS, I would have stayed in my room.” Ieyasu muttered.

“Well, she didn’t end up pregnant for no reason.” Mitsuhide said, a grin on his face.

My cheeks reddened and I looked at my plate. I picked up my chopsticks and started stuffing my face. “You know, this is really good food. Maybe you two should cook together more often.” I said to Masamune and Oba-san as much as I wanted to change the topic of conversation.

Oba-san grinned. She was then looking at Mitsuhide beside her. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’m not really hungry.” Mitsuhide answered.

“Looking at you I would think you’re never hungry.” Oba-san said. “You should eat. Masamune and I didn’t cook all of this food just for some of you not to eat around here.”

“You might as well give up on him.” Ieyasu said. “He’s a lost cause.”

“And when he does eat, he does it wrong.” Masamune added.

“I just eat more efficiently.” Mitsuhide countered.

“I’m sorry Mitsuhide, but I have to agree with Masamune here.” I spoke up. 

Oba-san’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as she looked at Mitsuhide. “What could you possibly do that is so wrong?” She asked.

“He mixes everything in one bowl.” Hideyoshi answered. “I don’t understand how you can even eat that way.”

“It completely ruins the flavor.” Masamune agreed.

Oba-san blinked. “That sounds disgusting…and I have to agree very wrong.” She was then getting a tray together and reaching for the chopsticks. She grabbed a bite and then held it up to Mitsuhide. “Come on, eat and eat properly.”

Mitsuhide’s eyes widened. “I really…”

“You may as well give up.” I said. “She won’t back down. I wasn’t allowed to get up from the table until I had all of my food was finished when I was a child.”

“And she was a stubborn one.” Oba-san said. “Sometimes we’d be sitting at the table for hours before she finally ate her food.”

“I’ll eat…but on the condition that you tell us some more interesting tidbits of our little mouse when she was a child.” Mitsuhide replied.

“I can accept those terms.” Oba-san said with a nod.

“Hang on, I can’t!” I spoke up. “It was bad enough when you had to tell Shingen all of my embarrassing stories! Now you’ll share them with them?! And Mitsuhide will tease me relentlessly!”

Mitsuhide put on a look of mock shock, but then grinned at me. “Why Ava, how could you say such things about me?”

“Because she knows you.” Hideyoshi said. “We all know that's why you asked for stories…though I have to admit I am curious. I bet my little sister was the most adorable child.”

“Oh, she really was.” Oba-san said. She was then looking at Mitsuhide expectantly. “And I won’t reveal anymore until you eat this.”

Mitsuhide opened his mouth and my grandmother slipped the food into his mouth. I think something broke in my brain watching my grandmother feed Mitsuhide like a baby bird. It seemed I wasn’t the only one, however.

“I can’t believe what I am seeing.” Hideyoshi said.

“I’m just glad he’s finally eating…and eating properly.” Masamune said.

“I don’t think I would say being fed like a baby bird is eating properly.” Ieyasu said.

Nobunaga was chuckling. “I see where you get your fire, Ava.” He said, looking at me.

“It runs in our family.” Oba-san said.

Oba-san continued to feed Mitsuhide and didn’t start telling any of her stories about me until he had finished all of his food. Then she had to tell them all of my most embarrassing stories…well all of the ones that she could without revealing that we are both from the future. She led with me enjoying running around naked as a child.

“Haha, that’s a shame that’s still not a thing.” Keiji said with a grin.

“I think it’s a good thing. Could you imagine all of the trouble we’d have to save her from if that were the case?” Ieyasu asked. 

“Sounds like everyone here is in for a fun time when the little one gets here.” Masamune said.

“Actually, they will be gone before the screaming child arrives, thank god.” Kenshin spoke up.

“What?” The Oda warlords chorused.

“We’re moving back to Kai.” Shingen said, his calm but authoritative tone.

“So, you’ve finally decided to return to your home?” Nobunaga asked, eyeing Shingen.

“You’re taking Ava away again?” Hideyoshi asked. “How can you think moving while pregnant is good for her?”

I sighed and looked over at Hideyoshi while Shingen was glaring at Nobunaga. “He asked me if I wanted to first and I said yes.” I told Hideyoshi.

“I have been away from home for too long.” Shingen said. “It is time I return and take my family with me.” He was then wrapping his arm around my waist.

“I think it makes sense.” Masamune said. “Raise your family in your homeland.”

“Well…if you’re sure that’s what you want…” Hideyoshi said, looking at me.

I smiled reassuringly. “I am.” I replied. 

The banquet went on for a while. My grandmother at one point placed a dish on Kenshin’s plate, telling him he needed to eat something besides pickled plums. Kenshin’s eyes widened. “What? Are you really…”

“Lord Kenshin, Ava’s grandmother isn’t wrong.” Sasuke said. “You need a varied diet to be able to keep your health up for battle.”

Kenshin grumbled before picking up his chopsticks and eating the food Oba-san had put on his plate. Though he had a disgruntled look on his face as he ate them.

“Alright, you’ve hogged this seat long enough, make some room.” Keiji said, coming over and plopping himself between me and Masamune. He was then throwing an arm around my shoulders. “You gotta share our princess now!”

“You know, I am not a sake cup you guys get to pass around.” I said, raising an eyebrow at Keiji.

Keiji just grinned. “Awe, don’t give me that face. You know we all just missed you.”

The party continued on well into the night. Everyone was drinking and laughing and enjoying themselves. The seat next to me that was not occupied by Shingen, was occupied by someone different every so often, everyone wanting to chat with me for a while.

The party eventually came to an end. Shingen and I returned to our room. Once we were alone in our room, Shingen’s arms were wrapping around me from behind and pulling me back against his chest. His lips were gently kissing the nape of my neck. 

“Mmm, I’ve been wanting to have you to myself all evening.” He murmured as he continued to kiss me.

I grinned as I tilted my head to the side, allowing him better access to my neck. “You’ve been very patient.” I agreed.

Shingen’s hands were moving to open the collar of my kimono. His lips traveled from my neck to my shoulder. “I know you care for them…but I still have a hard time with seeing other men fawn over you…though I admit I see why they do…”

“Mmm…Shingen…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t ever try to keep you from them.” Shingen replied. “I would never begrudge you for seeing people you consider your family…just would you mind indulging your husband in some selfish desires?”

“I’m always happy to indulge your supposed selfish desires, Shingen.” I replied, reaching for his hands and guiding them to undo my obi. “Your selfish desires never feel selfish to me….especially when they always make me feel so good.”

Shingen chuckled. “You are far too generous, my love.” He told me as his large hands made quick work of my obi.

I turned around to face Shingen, wrapping my arms around his neck. I pressed my iips to his and we were soon falling into the futon together, Shingen’s arms holding me safely all the way down.

Afterwards, we lay in the futon together, wrapped in each other’s arms. Shingen kissed me gently on the forehead. “Are you alright, my love?” He asked, his hands gently rubbing up and down my back.

I smiled up at him. “I’m always more than alright when I’m with you.”

Shingen smiled warmly at me. “I’m glad to hear that. I just worry that I am too demanding of you, my love.”

“Trust me, I have no complaints.” I replied. I let out a yawn as I snuggled closer to him. “I love you, Shingen.”

“I love you, Ava.” Shingen replied, kissing me on top of the head. “Rest well, my angel.”

My eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep. My head cushioned on the perfect pillow of Shingen’s chest, his heart beating beneath my ear. 

Shingen watched Ava as she slept in his arms. He stroked her silken hair and kissed her on top of the head. “Rest well, my love.” He whispered to her sleeping form. “I am truly a selfish man.” He hugged her tighter a moment before closing his eyes and joining her in sleep, a contented smile on his face.

Taglist: @limonzu @oda-princess @zulablaise @kisara-16

@tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady

@bjorkshire-pudding @eventinelysplayground

[the-ragingenby]

Request for @starboys-fictionkin-stuff

This was a joy to write, and I love these two so much :3 Hope you like it!

I Love You For You

Gon x Killua

~400 words

Killua found himself lounging on the couch, anxiety gnawing at him. It’s been over a year since he and Gon began their relationship after confessing their mutual feelings for each other. But ever since then, Killua felt he was…lying to Gon. 

Being born a girl wasn’t something he wanted. He hated it, hated himself, for years. But now, he was happy, with himself and his new identity. But Gon…he deserved to know. It just didn’t sit right with him to keep such a big part of himself from him.

Gon wouldn’t judge him or anything. He knew that, but he was still so nervous. So here he was, waiting for Gon to get back from…where did he say he was going again?

He was startled out of his thoughts when the front door opened and Gon skipped in shouting, “Killua!” Killua couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face when Gon dumped whatever was in his hands on the table. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Killua righted his position on the couch, sitting up and looking over at Gon. “Just, uh, thinking.” 

“About what?” Gon plopped himself on the couch beside Killua, leaning against him and humming contentedly. Killua hesitated for a moment, just a moment, but it was enough to get Gon’s attention. Gon fixed him with a slightly worried look. “Are you okay? Is it bad?” 

“No. Nothing bad, I just need to talk to you about something. Something important to me.” Killua murmured, nervously clearing his throat. Gon blinked at him for a moment before sitting up and turning to Killua, listening attentively. 

“You can tell me anything, you know.” Gon added softly, eyes wide and swirling with emotion. 

“I…know. I just…” Killua sighed, averting his gaze. “I was born a girl. But it just never felt right. I didn’t feel right. I’m happy with who I am now, but I just felt that you had a right to know. I didn’t want to…lie? I’m sorry.” 

Gon tilted his head, just a little. “Why are you sorry? There’s nothing to be sorry for. And you weren’t lying either. You’re Killua, right?” Killua, stunned into silence, nodded slowly. “Then that’s all that matters! I love you for you, Killua.” 

Killua felt a rush of affection flow through him, all of it culminating into tears pricking his eyes. “Thank you…Gon.” He whispered, fighting back the urge to start sobbing. 

“H-hey! Don’t cry…” Gon scooted closer, taking Killua’s hands in his own and pressing their foreheads together. “Look, I’m not going anywhere, no matter what.”

Killua could only nod. He didn’t trust his voice not to fail him. But, he was so glad that he had Gon. Honestly, he couldn’t imagine how life would be without him.

[souhaillaghchimdev]

A Beginner’s Guide to RESTful API Design

RESTful APIs are the backbone of modern web and mobile applications. Whether you're building the backend for a web service, a mobile app, or a microservice architecture, understanding how to design a RESTful API is essential. In this guide, we’ll walk you through what REST is and how to structure APIs that are scalable, maintainable, and easy to use.

What is a RESTful API?

REST stands for Representational State Transfer. It's an architectural style that uses standard HTTP methods (GET, POST, PUT, DELETE) for communication between clients and servers. A RESTful API exposes data and services over the web using URLs, returning responses typically in JSON format.

Core Principles of RESTful API Design

Statelessness: Each request should contain all the information needed to process it. The server does not store client session data.

Resource-Based: Data is represented as resources (e.g., /users, /products).

Use of HTTP Methods: Use standard HTTP verbs for actions: GET (read), POST (create), PUT/PATCH (update), DELETE (remove).

Uniform Interface: Consistent structure and naming conventions help developers understand and use your API easily.

Representation: Resources are typically represented using JSON or XML.

Best Practices for RESTful API Design

1. Use Nouns in URIs

URIs should represent resources, not actions. Example:✅ /users❌ /getUsers

2. Use HTTP Methods Correctly

GET /users → Get list of users

GET /users/1 → Get user with ID 1

POST /users → Create a new user

PUT /users/1 → Update user with ID 1

DELETE /users/1 → Delete user with ID 1

3. Return Proper HTTP Status Codes

200 OK → Successful request

201 Created → Resource created successfully

400 Bad Request → Client error

401 Unauthorized → Authentication failed

404 Not Found → Resource doesn’t exist

500 Internal Server Error → Server-side error

4. Use JSON as the Response Format

JSON is the most widely used and supported format. It’s readable by both humans and machines.

5. Version Your API

Always version your APIs to avoid breaking changes for clients when you update your codebase./api/v1/users

6. Use Pagination for Large Collections

For endpoints that return many items, use query parameters for pagination:/users?page=2&limit=20

7. Include Error Messages

Return helpful error messages to guide developers on how to fix their request: { "error": "Invalid input", "details": "Email address is required" }

8. Secure Your API

Use HTTPS to encrypt data in transit.

Implement authentication (e.g., OAuth2, JWT).

Validate inputs to prevent injection attacks.

Tools for API Development and Testing

Postman: Test and document your APIs.

Swagger/OpenAPI: Generate interactive API documentation.

Insomnia: Alternative to Postman for API testing.

Conclusion

Designing a RESTful API isn't just about making something that works — it's about making it intuitive, reliable, and secure. By following the principles and best practices outlined here, you'll create APIs that developers love to use and that can scale with your application.

[vision-bound-muse]

Wanderer Head Canons and yet another long-winded fixing of a catastrophe I have been ignoring. Welcome to my content warnings, these are written in their headspace. Language… will be awful. My characters are rarely as watered down as hoyo makes them and this boy is a damn nightmare. Read at your own risk.

Moving forward I am going to be hyper selective here because I just don’t have it in me to watch him destroy other characters without explicit permission. Kaz aside, that is what he is going to do. With that being said the shit show is as follows:

First, this dick, not a puppet no ball joints or any of the other fantastical things that are applied to him. He exists somewhere between Albedo (sentient, can be considered human enough and EI & Kathryne. Human enough, but not quite enough. He does not need to eat, drink or sleep nor does he have a heartbeat. He exists like a vampire, not aging not anything, in perfect statis a beautiful little replica of that bitch. Vein, no? He thinks so and hates it. Body parts do work for the intended purpose and he does have away of using it in awful ways.

He is a malicious flirt. I am fucking sorry. I am I don’t mean to let him, but it just flows out and I cannot stop him. Especially, if you have given him the slightest inclination that a character likes him. He is going to use it just to cause damage. Really, I have sat here and watched this shit crumble many of Lumine’s to my amusement (with appropriate apologies).

He does not even care about himself. He does not care if he lives or dies. Nihilistic and empty… mostly. This is where we are currently sitting, and it is where he needs to be sitting for the moment.

Dottore. That, was torture and likely some other vague things I won’t touch on, but sadism being what it is you can probably hazard a guess. That snide face? It will be relieved from those ridiculous peacock shoulders of his. He has more than a few ideas for this. There are scars and plenty of them. I do not think that anesthesia would work on Scaramouche, blood does not flow thus he would have been AWAKE.THE.WHOLE.TIME. Think about that song for a bit.

Can he feel pain. Fuck yes he can.

And oh ho is he strong. BB is a divine puppet. To further this, that vision nothing more than mechanics. He used his entire body to fight when needed, and to me I don’t see him needing to rely on the vision it too much. At 400 years old, per canon, he is more than well versed with a sword and we will be using that with brutal painful efficiency. Stab him? Haha… he’s going to pull that out and use it for a toy.

College student: Nope. Never. Not going to happen. Not in a million years is this something I will take as canon no matter how bad it is wanted it to be. The parade of providence is my divergence point. It simply did not happen here. Instead, after the tree, he just LEFT. So no Nahida either. He will have to get better on his own or not at all. These things are just aggravation over taking someone that could have been a stellar antihero and turning them into a brat. Its.just.not.happening.

He is manipulative to a degree of stupid and he is going to do things to just be an asshole or simply because he is bored. He gets a great deal of joy from just lobbing goddamn grenades all over my dashboard. He will exploit weakness.

Ahhh. The tree the tree. Such a pain in the ass, but at the same time I love it. 2 branches can be requested, but even if it is the wanderer he’s still very much going to be scaramouche. The game itself goes to great lengths to let you know he hasn’t changed all that much. Maybe toned down a little, but all the same he still hates humanity.

Weak and useless.

He really is a narcissist. It is a promise. I don’t see it changing. I just really… don’t.

He has no morals. None. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Do something dumb, consider yourself lucky if he didn’t laugh and simply walk away. Oh? You need help with something that is cute. It doesn’t matter if your starving or dying. He does.not.care.

What amuses this fucker is causing pain. It just IS.  

Here, we don’t care about your dynamics and cute fandom fluff. To be honest it makes him sick on most occasions.

He is… a monster. The only person I can ever see changing that is Kazuha because it is the only thing I have ever seen him show any kind of remorse for.

[sideblog-usernametaken]

A few months ago I had to get new glasses and insurance covered the frames. The lenses on the other hand were a whole different beast.

The thing is, I'm severely near sighted. As in -6.75/-7.25, it's to the point where when I asked if I had an astigmatism the optometrist said "You have a slight one but it's insignificant compared to your perscription." When we got to the lenses part of ordering new glasses I was told that the default plastic would be far to thick and thus too heavy to comfortably wear, so I'd need some kind of polycarbonate or prism lenses that are lighter and thinner. Apparently they're supposed to automatically use the material for anything worse than a -4 so sure, fine, whatever. It was $50.

When they arrived, the right lense bent light weird and I was disoriented and had headaches that are worse than what you'd expect for regular adjustment. It felt like my eyes were fighting each other for which resolution got priority so I was constantly switching between everything being high resolution or slightly blurry. I realized it was an issue with the lenses themselves when I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror and noticed that the reflections in the right lense all bent towards a single point (Not normal).

I brought the glasses back, they said they'd replace the lense for free (Good) and that it would take an additional week for the new lense to arrive (I didn't mention it earlier but it usually takes at least a week to get new glasses. They don't have extra lenses and frames to make a pair for you on the spot [My mother claims that's how glasses used to work] so everything has to be custom ordered).

I wait a week, get the new lense. New lense has the same problem. I go back, and this time I had to take pictures of the light bending reflection thing to get them to believe something was wrong with the lense and not me because their equipment didn't detect anything off. Yes I tried showing them in the store but they couldn't figure out how to get the reflections to pinch in the center like I described (The person I spoke to about the last lense was able to so that meeting was less vexing). Before those pictures they were checking if my perscription was accurate or not even though I had told them exactly what the process was.

After all of that, they told me that since it happened twice that it means that that lense in that material can't be made in my perscription. The company making my lenses got notified that there was a problem so either they'll fix whatever is causing the issue or they'll reject any requests to make that specific combination in the future.

So where does that leave me? High Refraction Index plastic. Apparently it's much better than polycarbonate or prism lenses for people with higher prescriptions. The catch? They're $200, and on top of that I was directly told that in the future I can't use anything other than this very expensive option because my perscription is so high that the other materials will start not working like they did this time.

If insurance hadn't covered the frames, I would've had to pay $400-$500 out of pocket to see. Apparently insurance also considers any kind of lense material aside from normal plastic (The material that at my perscription would be thick and heavy enough to cause discomfort) a luxury and they won't cover it.

Also the $200-$300 frames were the cheaper options. They're the options they keep in a box in the back you get to see when you ask "What does my insurance cover?" These frames often aren't fancy and either come in very bland colors or colors you'd need a really specific wardrobe to make work. And they're hundreds of dollars.

Don't get me wrong, needing glasses isn't as bad treatment wise or cost wise as other physical disabilities. Eye specialists are all over the place, there's a pretty extensive array of glasses and contact options, and there's far less stigma about it (People assume that if you're wearing glasses that you need them, even though people wear fake glasses as a fashion statement. Why some people don't realize you can only really get a wheelchair if you need one is beyond me). However, that doesn't mean it's not a disability with its own problems and expenses. The fact of the matter is that if I couldn't afford glasses I would not be able to see well enough to do basically anything. Just to read I'd have to have the text less than 4 inches from my face. Just because there's a way to correct it that's easily accessible (If you have money) doesn't make my default eyes any better.

Made the mistake of bringing up that needing glasses is a disability on tiktok and people got real mad.

“You can fix it with glasses” yeah, cuz they’re a disability aid? But like, I still have to pay 160 bucks to use my own fucking eyes?

Like, by definition, if your eyes do not work without aid, you have a disability to see.

Having a disability doesn’t automatically put you in what people consider the “disabled” category, but that doesn’t change the fact that it is in fact, a disability.

[daysuntilnextaccident]

the other day a person in my writing group and i had a minor metaphorical slap fight about what boiled down to a miscommunication.

and when we were all done and adults again, she reached out to me to tell me she really appreciated my attitude and positivity and that's great.

but she framed it in the context of 'because i know you're constantly in pain and your joints are grumpy all the time, and so it doesn't get you the wordcounts you want when we sprint together.'

and like

a) you're right sometimes it does interfere with my ability to focus and produce big number go up

b) and i cannot stress this enough I DO NOT WANT YOUR PITY.

and i want to deconstruct those both.

so on an average sprint of 25 minutes on a good day, my writing group pal will hit 700 words. i will hit 400 in a good round, 600 in an excellent round, 80 in an absolutely terrible round (usually when i have a fever or bad joints or the depression is kicking my ass).

but here's the thing: i'm not getting paid for this. and these are words that i am writing to explore a concept in a draft. all these words will be rewritten. every. single. one. will be replaced and remade numerous times throughout the process.

i don't give a FUCK how many words i have. i participate in sprints to keep us on task, because there's very few organized people in our writing group, and putting the time and words in regularly and encouraging other people to participate means that these people do not drop away, and eventually i will have a group of fellow writers that i can approach with a request to trade feedback.

this is saying nothing of the truth that everyone's circumstances are different.

everyone's process is different.

everyone's GOALS are different.

it's such a sanctimonious apples to oranges set of statements that it keeps welling up unbidden.

secondly.

haha. hahahaha. haha. once more for those in the back.

i. do. not. want. your. pity.

or anyone else's. i want to complain like someone would complain about the weather. "oh damn my hip is being a little bitch" delivered in the same manner as "it rained three times this week." because honestly no one can do anything about it at this junction. so putting a sign around my neck that says "oh huney i know you tried your best" is infuriating, demeaning, and fuckin ableist.

because i haven't tried my best. i've DONE my best.

my best is that i have kicked ass for the last 10 months since joining this group.

my best is that i show up for people in the group and try to cheer them on towards their goals without inscribing my own over them.

my best is that i have done 3 drafts in 10 months, including stopping midstride of one to fix an absolutely glaring problem in a completely different story.

my best is writing. even when the writing is hard. even when the muse isn't there. even when i don't feel like it.

my best is scraping out time between work and chores and my partner and myself to try to say something that i think someone else may want to hear.

and that's all any of us are there for.

[devils-dares]

Congratulations on 400! 🥳 To celebrate, may I please request enemies to lovers #13?

hi, thanks for your request, i decided to do this with matt!

13-enemies to lovers: not being able to believe that the other wants to do something nice for them

-----

“What is it?” You laugh, walking into the printer room at the DA’s office. Matt was grumbling away at the braille printer.

“Like I’d tell you.” Another paper comes out wrinkly and crumpled, he sighs as he grabs it and feels for the braille text, a groan leaving his mouth when it isn't readable. He’d come here to discuss a plea deal for one of his clients with Blake Tower, and you were the ADA.

“It might be jammed, a stuck paper.” You suggest, and he turns towards you.

“Why would you tell me that?” It phrases like a question but is said as a statement.

“I just want to help.”

“No you don’t, there’s an ulterior motive. What do you need? Advice on a case? Maybe you’re ready for your first date and want some help?”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“It’s okay, you can ask me for whatever pathetic little favor you need.”

“I just wanted to help you.” You say, disappointment lacing your voice.

“It’s never ‘just’ with you. We’ve been fighting in court long enough, and in school for even longer, for me to know that. You always want something, whether it’s for me to owe you one or whatever.”

“It’s a fucking paper, Murdock. I literally just wanted- you know what? Forget it, I don’t have to explain myself to you.” You say. Opening the printer bay, you find the obstruction, a paper that got trapped in the rollers, and pull it out. You shove the paper in his chest and bump his shoulder as you exit the printer room with your papers. He grabs his paper, annoyed that you fixed the printer, and leaves for his meeting with Foggy and Tower.

You, on the other hand, were sitting in your office gathering information for your next court proceeding. He’d gotten to you and you were fuming. He’d never affected you in this way before, and you genuinely wanted to help him with a simple task with nothing in return. Perhaps he thought you did need something, given your opposing jobs. You shook him from your thoughts and got to work.

You were frustrated, there weren’t any huge busts along with your name while you were the ADA, and a few misfiles by some clerks went against your name. You could tell your time was limited, and although it hurt to think about, you hated your job here anyways. Matt wasn’t completely wrong, you did want advice, but you were at such a low point that his attitude caught you off guard. A tear splashed against your desk, you hadn’t even known you were crying. Soon enough, you locked the door to your office and let the tears flow. All types of frustrated, sad, angry, upset tears came, and you let the silent sobs wrack your body.

Leaving for your lunch break, you walk past the room where Matt’s having his meeting with Blake. He smells salt on the air laced with your perfume, a telltale sign that you had been crying. His stomach sinks, a dull ache in his chest from the thought of you crying, and his eyebrows twitch in disgust at his emotions. There wasn’t any particular reason he should feel bad that you were upset, so why did his chest hurt for you?

Foggy’s sigh cuts through Matt’s train of thoughts.

“How about a recess?” Matt suggests, “We can reconvene after lunch.” The other two men agree and suddenly Matt finds himself making a beeline to you, sitting on a bench in a lesser known area. He stops by the coffee cart in front, grabbing one for him and one for you, and walks over to you.

You spot him, cane clicking as it hits the pavement and you sigh. Whatever could he want now? You’d resigned yourself to the fact that he’d probably shit on you endlessly, somehow knowing the fact that you’d been crying.

“I uh, got this for you.” He holds out the coffee cup towards you.

“What, you poison it?” He snorts, a genuine display as he takes a seat next to you.

“Just a bit.” You laugh too and take it from him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You sound like you’ve been crying.”

“Yeah, been a little teary-eyed after I figured out how long until I take your ass to court, Murdock.” He laughs at that, and allows a beat of silence to pass you by before he speaks.

“I’m sorry, I was really mean earlier.” You do a double-take at his words.

“Not like you to apologize,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee, “in fact, I’m having trouble remembering if you’ve ever apologized at all.”

“I haven’t, and that’s really rude of me.”

“Well, I’m sorry too, for you know, always being better than you.” He laughs, and you start to realize how handsome his crow’s feet are.

“Seriously, Murdock, there’s no reason we should’ve been that vile to each other. I’m having trouble remembering why I even hated you in the first place.”

“Oh, I do, I had a huge crush on you in college.”

“What?” You look at him cluelessly.

“Yeah, and I hated it because you were always neck and neck with me in class rankings. So I resorted to hating you, it was easier.”

“That- I wasn’t expecting-”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Is this you trying to start over with me?”

“Uh- yeah? I’d like to.”

“Well, Murdock, I’d like to start over too. And for full disclosure’s sake, I also had a crush on you.”

“Wait- we could’ve been dating instead of fighting?”

“Yeah.” You answer.

“Will you answer honestly if I ask you a question?”

“Depends.”

“Why were you crying?” You laugh sadly at his question.

“It’s been- um- tough, y’know? The clerks here aren’t very good at… clerking? So Tower’s throwing me under the bus for all of the misfiles. I’m thinking I’ll clear out by the end of the month, then it’s back to job searching for me.”

“I’m sorry, that’s tough.”

“Yep, nothing I can’t handle though, right?” You say, voice wavering as your eyes get teary once again.

“You know, you could always join another firm, we could use another partner.” He sips his coffee nonchalantly as if he didn’t just offer you a job.

“Matt, are you offering me a partner position?”

“I mean I’d have to discuss it with Foggy, but you’ve beat us in court enough times to warrant an offer.” He bumps your shoulder with his own.

“So very kind of you to offer. Might take you up on it, not everyone wants an ADA after their fall from grace.”

“Can- uh- heh-”

“What’s up?”

“Well, on the off chance you still somehow have feelings for me, would you join me for dinner?”

“You saying you still have a schoolyard crush?”

“Yes, can you blame me?”

“No, I can’t, I’d have a crush on me too.” He belly laughs.

“So? What do you say?”

“Okay, you can take me to dinner.”