#Support their interests and passions and yes even their passing whims

[stevishabitat]

👏 👏 👏

“what if kids identify with something and it ends up just being a phase-?” good. stop teaching and expecting kids (and adults honestly) to formulate permanent traits and ideas of themselves. everything in life is a phase. that doesn’t make it any less legitimate while you experience it. let people explore themselves and know it’s okay if what you think about yourself changes.

[chuluoyi]

✎ forever

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times he asked you to marry him

genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo

note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Why don't we get married?"

The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.

His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.

"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"

A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"

You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—

"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."

Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.

"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"

There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?

You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.

Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.

"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."

When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.

The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.

"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"

This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"

"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."

"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"

"I said no."

"Why?!"

You sighed. "You're dead drunk."

"What will—hic—make you say yes?"

You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.

"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

"Marry me."

The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.

And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.

Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.

At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.

. . .

He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.

He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.

Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.

"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.

As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.

And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—

—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.

But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.

You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?

. . .

This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.

"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."

[starshipsofstarlord]

The Sheriff and the Murderer

Part Five

Series masterlist

Summary | whilst spending time in the shower with you, Lee notices that there are a few things missing to the household, like any mention of your husband. And thus, he does what he originally came to your house to do, and speak with you about his strange disappearance.

Warnings | smut, shower sex, oral sex (f receiving), very slight sheriff kink, cum swapping, mention of death, swearing, some fluff, angst

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Water ran down the curves of your body, as Lee caressed your ribcage from behind, his fingertips dancing along your skin, with water showering down upon the pair of you, flattening your hair in its spray of passion upon the back of your neck. The man behind you nursed the tip of his nose along your shoulder line, pressing supple kisses upon the blades, enforcing you to hum contentedly.

This is what you had always wanted, this one individual person making sweet love to you, he was your home, not these four walls, nor the tiles that were configured around you. Lee Bodecker was the man of your dreams, but mama and papa had always told you, that dreams were not realistic, they were pits of gold that would drive you made. And maybe, you were a tad mad, after all you had murdered your husband, and gone through with burrowing his body parts in the wild.

The worst part was, as panicked as you were, in that moment, you had felt crazed, as though a true part of yourself was released as you beat his motionless form, spilling further blood around. With Lee, you felt severely calm, soothed with the quiet presence of him puckering pursed kisses down onto your spine, as he swiftly turned you around, pressing his nose against your own as he slithered his addictive hands down, probing at your waist with them to grind his cock against your stomach, fingering the dips of your body.

A stuttered breath left your lips as his tongue traced your lips, prompting you to open the oral depths of your fence of teeth, allowing him to enter the shallow insides of your conversing cavern, tangling the tip of his tongue with your tonsils, your hands tracing up to stifle upon his jaw, feeling the light and dampened stubble across the firm and well aged structure. He backed you into a corner, grasping your hips as his beverage bloated stomach pressed against your own, making your heart swell with adoration.

“Take me Bodecker, consummate me as though I were your own bride.” It was impossible not to allow the words to slip out, and it made Lee groan into your mouth, the sound echoing and reverberating around your entire body. He wanted there to be some momentous truth to support your spoken scenario, for the pair of you to wed in an instant, even if it were to be in the lack of spaciousness proximity of the bathroom shower, that had an inkling of mould brewing in the far top corner, and a few cracked tiles splintering in random placements.

“Thought you’d leave me hanging forever.” The sheriff groaned, stifling his hard cock in his hand, as he bent his knees, using his physical leverage to hoist you into his law enforcing arms, enabling you to wrap your tense legs around the curves of his behind, grasping his flesh closer against your own. “Tight, so tight baby doll.” He gritted his teeth, as he ran his teeth along your slit, just in time before he sunk his hungry cock through your folds, stretching your walls to accommodate his size.

“Lee Lee.” Your voice muffled into the crease of his neck, as you felt obscene pleasure as he stilled inside you, allowing you to adjust to his pulsating length within your pussy, whimpering lightly at the sensation of his entirety, suctioning your lips against his cleansed skin. “Fuck me sheriff, I want to feel every inch of you.” You nestled against him, sending moans directly into his ear as Lee began to rut up into you, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks, as he delivered intimate bites along the side of your neck, though nothing too harsh to leave prominent and dark marks into the canvas of your skin.

“I-“ Lee frowned, his blue eyes reeling shut as he picked up the rate of his thrusts, feeling himself succumb to an immoral pleasure that the preacher would subject against; adultery was against the beliefs within the house of the father, but in the moment either one of you could care less. In fact, it sounded like Lee cared a little too much as his next words passed through the air like a dream similar symphony, that bundled in your ears, leaving you feel conflicted with emotions. “I love you.”

And then he came, filling you with his seed, as he pulled out, dropping to his knees, watching his white gold spill down your thighs. He dragged his tongue over his source, moving closer to your lips to seep below the outer folds, devouring his flow of essence, realising that the first hand taste of himself wasn’t so bad after all. Your hands sewed around the blunt and short hairs of his head, as he swirled your clit into his mouth, the rest of his seed painting down onto his chin, content to continue eating you out until he made you revel into a spiritual space, blinding you into a hot white light, that had you falling back against the chipped dirty blue tiles.

“Oh my god.” You whimpered, eyes blurring with galactic, starry irised tears until your vision returned to vivid clarity. “Lee Lee, come up here.” He stood, his own cum still orbing in his mouth, as he began to kiss you, swapping his taste into your mouth, smirking lightly to himself as you gulped down the extraction of him. “I love- you know.” You shook your head, hardly wishing to say it aloud, considering all that had happened the last time that you had uttered those words to someone, even if you had not actually mean them.

“I need to hear you say it gorgeous, so that I know that you mean it. I’ve waited all these years, practically my entire life, so please, for the love of the law, say it.” He grasped your jaw, caressing your nose once more with his own, sharing breaths with you. His eyes bore into your own, his hand resting again the back of your neck to bring your face closer to his own.

“I love you Lee Bodecker. I really do.” You spoke softly, feeling the water spitter coldly upon your pores, reminding you of how long the two of you had been under its spay. You pecked his lips, running your hands up along his chest, your palms cascading over his pebbled nipples, as you felt him delicately tickle your flesh beneath the flow of your hair. “You were the one I should have married. It always should have been you.” Tears began to pelt out from your eyes, spilling as you thought of how much of a life you had missed out on with him.

The sneaking around had amounted to much stress, the secrecy arising pressure in your lives that felt over the top, all while whilst being worth it. “I fucked up, so bad. I married the wrong man all because I was a young naive girl that thought you deserved better, and you do. The things I’ve done, this life I’ve amounted into, I never wanted it. The one thing I’ve always wanted was you, and I let you get away, all whilst never letting you go.”

Your fists lightly began to beat against his chest as you sobbed, thinking of how previously there had been blood and dirt encasing them, serving as evidence for your unforgivable sins. “Baby girl, it’s okay. We’ll figure things out, Simon is the only thing holding us back from finding a new way to live, by chance, have you found him?” It was not only his way to ensure you with whims of comfort, retelling you that you could find a way to publicly be together, but to also uncover the destination of your missing husband.

“Found him?” You frowned, confused by what he meant. He nodded, racking his fingertips down the side of your face, as you peppered light kissed along his soft skin. “Whatever do you mean darling?” A large part of you was severely worried about the situation; it was a great secret that you did indeed know of his whereabouts, he was in deep, in a literal sense. You’d know, considering that you, along with Sally, had buried him six feet under, and prayed cursively that no one would find his remains.

“Yes, he’s been required at the police station, though none of us have been able to find him. Do you have any idea where he is, I figured you’d be the best person to ask.” It all clicked, and you stepped away, softly shoving his chest as he tried to come closer to you. The tears continued to flow, flooding your face like a broken dam, as you felt overcome with a conjunction of newfound prospects.

“This is what this all was, wasn’t it? That’s why you came here, but instead of firstly asking me where Simon was, you decided to get in my pants! How could you Lee, you made me feel vulnerable, convincing that you loved me so that you could pick my brain.” Cradling your own scalp, you felt how your head was ready ready to implode. Everyone tended to use you for their own dirty deeds, and here Bodecker was, doing the exact same thing.

“No, y/n. That’s not what-“ he realised that you were near on right, he had buttered you up physically, though he had gotten quite distracted from his original ploy. “I’m sorry, but I meant it. And I thought that we would be able to speak like this like civil adults, neither of us have anything to hide.” You did, and the only way to keep it concealed was to push him away, and thus you climbed out of the shower, grabbing a towel and covering your nude body with it.

Lee fumbled after you, grasping his clothes as he exited the bathroom, following your footsteps as you raked your mind obsessively. “Y/n/n please don’t push me away, I want you, and I just need an answer, otherwise you’ll be swarmed with strangers questioning you on Simon, and we both know there’s many things that they don’t know.” Instead, you turned and watched as he clicked his belt together, his eyes pleading at you.

There were many things that he too did not know, and such secrets you did not intend to share with him. Rubbing your eyes, you glanced at the wedding ring that was encrusted upon your vowed finger, grimacing at the sight of it. “Just leave Sheriff, I’m sure you can finish your duties elsewhere. This case better be pretty important if you’re willing to use me for it.” Crossing your arms, you tensed your nostrils, glaring hurtfully towards the man that you currently felt everything towards. “And no, I haven’t seen him, so you can write that down when you get in that car of yours, and drive away from me, for good.”

“I didn’t mean for that darling, please don’t reject me now.” His voice cracked, plodding backwards as he felt his heart stutter rapidly in his chest, cracking at the edges as he saw the brokenness on your features. “I love you, and I’m leaving. But this isn’t the end, we’re going to sort this out once you’re not so tense about all this.” He pointed at you, staring endearingly as he exited your front door, shock falling down his face in liquid pebbles as soon as it slammed behind him.

There were things that you couldn’t tell him, but there was one thing that you had already confessed. You loved him, always had, and it was sure that you always would. You weren’t y/n Priot, you were y/n y/l/n, the girl that had snuck around with him, for vast amounts of years, and had definitely married the wrong man. It had hurt you that he had not showed up at your wedding, though it had always been understandable why. He loved you too, and he would prove it, more so when he got to the end of the case concerning your missing husband.

taglist for this specific series; @charmed-asylum @tcc-gizmachine @stucky-my-ship @brynthebulldozer @acciosiriusblack @lady-loki-ren @bxnnywriting @severewobblerlightdragon @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

[shera-dnd]

Cupid’s Kiss

Took me way longer than expected curse the whims of my mental health but the winner of this month’s 3k fic poll is finally here!

In which Carmen and Julia have a lovely totally not date in Paris while in search for two thieves who are certainly also not having a date

if you’d like a chance to get your fic ideas written by me, or just want to support me, you can feel free to donate to my ko-fi (rules over here)

and here is the ao3 link if you’d rather read it over there

also this fic was brought to you thanks to the help of @cantdrawshaw

NOW ON WITH THE FIC

Carmen Sandiego was the best at her job. She had bested trained assassins and killer robots, evaded the world’s most advanced detective agency, and destroyed the largest criminal organization. All in her early twenties.

Yet there was one task she was not prepared to face. One that escaped her skills, both martial and technical. One that she had failed to plan around. One that existed entirely beyond the range of her skills. A foe that she could not beat.

“Come on, Carm,” Zack called, “it can’t be that hard. If even Ivy could score with the girls, you can do it too.”

“Even Ivy?!” His sister replied, furious, “I’ve been with more girls than you, jackass.”

“Guys, guys!” Carmen interrupted, “you’re not helping.”

Mentioning her interest in spending more time with Julia Argent had been the biggest mistake she had made in weeks. This was supposed to be a peaceful day at their old home base, but now here she was.

Her friends were trying so hard to help her and she couldn’t even be mad at how poorly they were doing, because she knew she wouldn’t fare much better were the roles reversed.

“Sorry,” the siblings replied in unison.

“I appreciate the support,” she assured them, “but I’m not trying to ‘score’ with anyone. I just wanna get to know Jules a little better.”

“So this is not a date?” Ivy asked.

“No!” She replied, a little too quickly, “me and Jules aren’t like that. She’s more of a… professional acquaintance. A coworker.”

“Carm,” Zack replied, “we’re coworkers and you’ve never had a bouquet of roses delivered to my door.”

“It was just a thank you for handling all those precious artifacts for me,” she explained, “she’s a hard worker, she deserved it.”

“Sure,” Ivy nodded, unconvinced, “is that why you take time to chat over coffee with her every other caper?”

“Not every moment of our lives has to be a chase, you know?” she countered.

“Or why you keep finding excuses to dance with her?”

“It’s the easiest way to speak privately at those parties without garnering unwanted attention,” she recited as if from a textbook.

“Or why-”

“Cease this!” Shadowsan’s stern voice commanded and the siblings fell silent, “VILE has trained her to never cave under interrogation. You’ll have a better chance extracting information from a rock.”

Carmen smirked at them, proud to have her skills of deflection recognized.

“Do not be so full of yourself,” he added, making Carmen flinch just a bit, “I have taught those lessons for years and I know how to see through them.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she deflected, looking away.

He walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder with uncharacteristic gentleness.

“I have seen the happiness Miss Argent brings you,” he said, “and I wish you the best of luck should you wish to pursue it.”

That meant a lot to Carmen. More than she could really express in words. But after she had been so thoroughly embarrassed by her friends, all she could really say was,

“Not you too.”

She looked up at the smirking siblings and braced herself...

“Hey, Red,” Player’s voice called, just in the nick of time.

“Player!” She jumped to attention and grabbed the laptop from their desk.

“Woah!” he exclaimed, “everything okay, Red?”

Zack and Ivy snickered as they sat by each side of her, so they could see Player.

“I think Carm would rather you sent her on a crazy chase instead of sitting here talking about her crush on Jules,” Ivy teased.

“Well it looks like you might get to do both,” Player replied, to Carmen’s dismay, “look who our cameras just found walking around Paris.”

The screen cut to a video feed of one of ACME’s hidden cameras over the streets of Paris. None of the people on camera seemed particularly conspicuous… until a particular pair walked on screen. Even without their costumes Carmen could always recognize them.

“Tigress and Paper Star,” she noted, “those two can’t be up to any good.”

“Looks like we’ll be going to Paris, eh Carm?” Ivy commented as she playfully nudged her side.

“City of love,” Zack added as he joined the nudging.

Carmen groaned. This was gonna be a rough mission.

Chase had grown a lot over the past few months. His deductive reasoning had vastly improved, his mood was far more amenable, and he actually stopped to listen to Julia nowadays. What hadn’t really improved with time was his overall clumsiness. 

“Miss Argent, I’ll be fine,” his insistence was interrupted by a powerful sneeze, “This is nothing.”

“Agent Devineaux, please,” she pleaded, “you’re in no state to continue this investigation.”

Devineaux had landed himself into his fair share of rivers over the months he had worked for ACME, and it seemed that so many cold baths had finally caught up to his health. Not that he would ever admit to that.

“Nonsense,” he claimed, “I’ll be back in perfect shape by the time we land in Paris.”

The sneeze that followed said otherwise.

“Chase, please,” she asked again, “rest. I can handle this.”

“I refuse to send my partner on a mission by herself.”

“As sweet as your concern is,” she countered, “I doubt I’ll be by myself for long.”

“Ah yes, I’m sure La Femme Rouge will make for good company,” he agreed and she was glad he did, but it sounded like there was more to his words. “Were you anyone else I’d worry this was all a ploy to have some private time with Miss Sandiego.”

She shot him an unamused glare.

“Apologies,” he said almost immediately.

“Accepted,” she sighed, “but I do not appreciate any insinuations as to the nature of me and Miss Sandiego’s relationship. We’re good friends, nothing more.”

“Of course,” he nodded, but Julia could tell he had more to say.

Truly his detective skills have improved considerably as of late. It had become harder and harder for Julia to pass her excitement for those missions as simple passion for her work. Not when she had abandoned that work as soon as it conflicted with her passion for… something else.

Chase was her friend and she knew he’d understand her feelings for Carmen. She was also sure he’d do his best to keep it a secret until she was confident enough to bring these things to light. She trusted him and she didn’t fear anything of the sorts.

What she did fear was Chase trying to wingman for her. Just the thought was enough to fill her with dread. Enough dread to keep her mouth shut about her feelings in the vicinity of Agent Devineaux. Even if it felt bad to hide this from her friend.

Thankfully the Chief chose that exact moment to call her to give her updated information on their targets. 

Now she could just shut off all these awkward feelings and focus on her work.

The Louvre had been an obvious target. The world’s most famous museum, home to thousands of priceless works of art, including the Mona Lisa itself. It was so obvious in fact that VILE had never bothered to consider it.

But VILE was gone now and its escaped students no longer had any faculty to dissuade them from this target.

That’s why Carmen now walked its halls, diligently searching for any security flaws that could be exploited and any sign of the two master thieves on the loose.

She still took time to appreciate the art of course. This was the most famous museum in the world for a reason and she wasn’t gonna let this unique opportunity escape her, even with the evil duo to watch for.

Carmen had her attention split in every possible direction, her mind juggling its many tasks as she wandered hall after hall. Until, that is, she found something that pulled her focus into one singular point.

A shorter woman in a nice fitted suit, standing before one of the statues.

“Jules,” she greeted as she walked up behind her.

“Miss Sandiego,” Julia smiled as she greeted her, utterly unsurprised. She must have been expecting her, “it’s nice to see you here.”

“It’s nice seeing you too,” she replied, “and we went over this before, Carmen is just fine.”

“Carmen,” she said, in a way that warmed Carmen’s heart, “I take it you’ve been enjoying your time in Paris.”

“Hard to go sightseeing while I’ve got work to do, but I’m making do,” she shrugged, “how about you? What caught your attention today?”

Julia turned back to the statue she had been appreciating until then, “Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss.”

Carmen smirked, it was her time to shine.

“Sculpted by Antonio Canova, commissioned by welsh art-collector John Campbell in 1787,” she recited from memory, “its prime version was acquired by the Louvre in 1824 after the death of its previous owner, Joachim Murat.”

“Very impressive,” Julia praised, “I wish my students put half as much time as you do into their research.”

“I’m just good at memorizing trivia,” Carmen shrugged, trying to hide her pride at earning that praise, “I’m sure you know so much more than me on the subject.”

Boy was Carmen right about that. That seemed to have been the cue to send Julia into a long lecture about the neoclassical and romantic periods, as well as an analysis of the sculpture’s mythological origins and the many interpretations of the myth.

Many people would probably find this amount of information unspeakably tedious. But for Carmen, who was always hungry to learn about the world around her (and could never get tired of Jules speaking so enthusiastically,) it was exciting and endearing.

Carmen had realized then that she wanted nothing more than to spend her every waking hour listening to Julia talk on and on about anything she wanted, as long as it was passionate like this. Maybe someday soon.

Right now they had the whole rest of the Louvre to scout.

“Alright, alright, victory is yours,” Carmen playfully interrupted, “I guess you really are the biggest history nerd here.”

“Oh I’m sorry, it seems I got a bit carried away,” Julia cringed in shame. Damn it Sandiego! “I didn’t mean to bore you.”

“You couldn’t bore me if you tried,” Carmen assured her as she placed a hand on her arm, “I mean it. It’s nice hearing you talk.”

“Unfortunately I no longer teach,” she replied, “otherwise I would have given you an open invitation to any of my classes.”

“Well, how about you show me around the place?” she suggested, “we can call this a private lesson.”

At that Julia smiled again, “then I hope your memory is as good as you say it is, Carmen Sandiego, because I’ll be quizzing you at the end of the tour.”

They both laughed as Julia led them along to the next art piece in what was clearly a meticulously planned tour of the museum. Jules kept her teacher face on for all of her little lectures, but as they walked from room to room it felt so simple and casual.

For once Carmen felt like there was no rush and that she could just enjoy her time with someone she cared about. Maybe that was the moment. Her chance to make something out of this and let Julia know how she felt.

“Hey, Jules,” she called, walking a little closer to her.

“Yes?” Julia turned to look at her, she seemed surprised by the sudden closeness, but did not move away from her.

Carmen decided to take that as a good sign.

“This has been really nice, you know?” she tried, her usual confidence failing her, “just spending time with you like this.”

“I guess it was,” she replied with- Wait, was that a blush? No, that had to be wishful thinking.

“Yeah,” she agreed, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck, “and I just feel like-”

It was then that she was rudely reminded of what she was here to do.

“-you have got to be kidding me!”

“What?” Julia jumped a little in surprise.

“5 o’clock, behind you,” Carmen instructed.

She turned to look and there they were. Tall, blonde and scheming, and short, monochromatic and homicidal. The two thieves they were here to catch. Two thieves that had also noticed them.

They both smirked at them for a moment, before Paper Star whispered something into Tigress’s ear and they both bolted in separate directions.

“I go for Tigress, you go for Paper Star,” Carmen ordered as she bolted after her target.

Tigress was the fastest of the two, and the one most likely to pull dirty tricks on them. Unfortunately for her, Carmen was well-versed in all of those tricks, and of course had all her equipment on her. It’s amazing how much she could hide in just a red hoodie.

Soon Tigress had led the both of them out of the main building, ready to make a run for it and disappear into the city. Her mistake though, was going somewhere Carmen could use her grappling hook without worrying about damaging priceless works of art.

She swung after her, quickly closing the distance and knocking her down with a kick to the stomach. Tigress groaned as she forced herself back up, but instead of running again or getting ready to fight Carmen, she simply shouted.

“Come on!”

“Done running around?” Carmen taunted.

“Yeah yeah whatever,” she replied. Well that was unusual, “did you girlfriend catch Paper Star already?”

“What!?” She nearly jumped in surprise, “She’s not- we’re not- that doesn’t matter! You’re going to jail, for good this time.”

“For what?” she replied.

“Trying to steal from the Louvre!”

“Ah yes, because that’s the only reason we’d be enjoying some time together in the city of love,” she mocked and rolled her eyes.

Was she implying what she thought she was implying?

“Aww, babe,” a voice above them called. Paper Star leaned out of a nearby window and openly teased her partner in crime.

Babe?

“She caught you already?” she continued

Tigress groaned again, “not my fault you got easy mode.”

Paper Star jumped down and casually hooked her arms around Tigress’s neck.

“Well I’ve won,” she declared, “now where’s my prize?”

The last thing Carmen expected was for the two of them to kiss right there in front of her, and yet that was exactly what they did.

“I did not need to see that!” She complained.

“You were the one who interrupted our date!” Tigress complained back.

“Do you seriously want me to believe that you two were just spending the evening together in the Louvre as a date?”

“Was that not what you and your little agent were doing too?” Paper Star teased.

Carmen’s reflex was to say no, but… was that what they were doing? They had been walking around, sightseeing, talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company and- oh god Carmen almost confessed to her back there. 

This was her chance to have a proper date with Jules and it got ruined right at the finish line because of a mission that didn’t even exist in the first place!

She would have time to figure all of this out later, right now she had a job to do and two smug assholes to put in their place. Thankfully she already knew just how to do that.

“You’re right, it was very rude of me to interrupt your romantic evening,” Carmen raised her hands in surrender and backed away, “how about you two get back to what you were doing and I can arrest you both tomorrow?”

“What?” Tigress challenged, “no romantic chase over the rooftops of Paris?”

“I’m sure your girlfriend would love that,” Paper Star added.

“Actually I think Julia would rather just have you behind bars,” she shrugged.

Right on cue the ACME’s blue sleep gas finally reached the both of them, making them both drop on the spot. It was kinda cute how they were put to sleep still holding each other. Carmen almost felt bad for arresting them. Almost.

She pulled her grappling hook again and launched herself through the open window above, landing right next to a very proud Julia Argent.

“Two for one,” Carmen praised, “at this rate, pretty soon you won’t be needing my help anymore.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but I had my partner down there to keep them in place,” Julia replied playfully. Carmen’s heart skipped a beat at the word ‘partner’, even though she knew she meant it as coworkers.

“Always happy to play distraction for you, Jules,” she played along.

Taking another step forward, Carmen felt her sense of balance completely leave her as she accidentally inhaled some sleep gas fumes. 

She tumbled forward, but before she hit the ground she felt Julia’s arms holding her up. It took her a second to shake away the effects of the gas, and another second to process the position they were in. How Julia was holding her like she had just dipped her in a dance.

For a moment they froze, staring into each other’s eyes as they held onto each other, until finally Julia helped her up again.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Julia apologized as she tried to fix up Carmen’s scuffed clothes.

“It’s fine,” Carmen assured her, “I should’ve been more careful around the sleep gas.”

Still Julia fussed over her, readjusting Carmen’s hoodie as she muttered a few more apologies. It took her a moment to notice just how close they were both standing now. The realization made her jump back a bit on reflex, but still she remained considerably close to Carmen.

She took a moment to collect herself before finally asking, “so uh- you had something you wanted to tell me?”

Carmen sighed in relief. Good to know those two hadn’t completely destroyed her chances.

“I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed our time together today,” she admitted, “before we got interrupted that is.”

Julia gave her a genuine smile that made her heart stop, “I enjoyed our time too. It’s nice to be able to talk about these things outside of work.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, feeling her confidence return bit by bit, “wanna do that again sometime? Maybe over some coffee.”

Jules seemed surprised at first as she caught on to what Carmen meant, but that expression was quickly replaced by a playful smile.

“Carmen Sandiego,” she called, “are you asking me out on a date?”

“Nothing escapes ACME’s best detective,” she joked, “I guess I am.”

“Then I’ll have to ask you to wait a little for my answer,” she asked.

Carmen opened her mouth to say that she was more than fine with waiting however long she needed, but she was frozen mid motion when Julia’s lips met her own. A quick, sweet little peck. 

“I want to finish our first before we plan the second.”

[pickwickboysclub]

A vindication of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right

A number of scholars have critiqued Hegel’s Philosophy of Right for its alleged rationalisation of despotism (see for e.g. Popper, 2013, among others). Similar views have surfaced during our class discussions, some of which have cast Hegel as a mere lackey of the Prussian monarchy. In this essay, I argue against a ‘conventionalist’ reading of the Philosophy of Right, with a focus on its Preface, which portrays Hegel’s political philosophy not only as a conservative defence of the reactionary Prussian state but as an endorsement of totalitarianism. I will begin by engaging with conventionalist interpretations of the Philosophy of Right to surface key issues that have problematically underpinned Hegel’s notoriety. Thereafter, I will show that Hegel’s understanding of the relationship between philosophy and the actual, as well as his conception of the state vis-à-vis the individual, does not in fact translate into a vindication of totalitarianism. Instead, I posit that Hegel’s Philosophy of Right embodies tenets that correspond more to moderate liberalist principles than conservative ones, and in doing so enshrines the fulfilment of individual subjective freedom in its very scheme.

One could argue that a cursory reading of the Preface to Hegel’s Philosophy of Right yields the strongest case for the conventionalist interpretation. Early on in the Preface, Hegel remarks:

To apprehend what is is the task of philosophy, because what is is reason. As for the individual, everyone is a son of his time; so philosophy also is its time apprehended in thoughts. It is just as foolish to fancy that any philosophy can transcend its present world, as that an individual could leap out of his time or jump over Rhodes. If a theory transgresses its time and builds up a world as it ought to be, it has an existence merely in the unstable element of opinion, which gives room to every wandering fancy (1821, p. 11).

Hegel’s claim that “what is is reason” could be construed as an argument that the criteria for practical reasoning are found in what currently exists, i.e. existing institutions and practices. Other passages appear to lend additional support to this interpretation. The Preface, for instance, closes with Hegel’s assertion that philosophy must be retrospective in character, drawing on the metaphor of the owl of Minerva to reinforce the importance of philosophy’s ‘appropriate time’. That philosophy “is its [own] time apprehended in thought” could then be read as assigning a purely interpretative role to philosophical inquiry, relegating it to the discernment of meanings supposedly embedded in extant practices and institutions. In addition, Hegel’s strictures against transcending or transgressing one’s time and constructing “a world as it ought to be” seem to cement these interpretations. If the criteria for practical reasoning are irrefutably rooted in existing institutions and phenomena, any attempt to argue rationally in abstraction from the present world would be senseless and incoherent. This also raises concurrent concerns that Hegel presupposes that modern social institutions are legitimate, or at the very least they are not illegitimate or unjust, which runs against more liberal sentiments. Even if the reader recognises Hegel’s distinction between the actual and what exists and avoids reading his (in)famous dictum, “What is rational is real; and what is real is rational”, as an unqualified endorsement of the status quo, the text still seems to support the idea that the criteria for practical reasoning lies latent in the actual modern institutions of a community and thus emulates a strong conservative bias. Elsewhere in the Philosophy of Right, Hegel asserts that philosophy should not be “practiced as a private art […] but has a public place, and should therefore be employed only in the service of the state” (1821, p. 7) and claims that individuals achieve true freedom only in fulfilling their duties as members of the state (1821, §258), controversial statements that have reinforced the association of Hegel’s name with Prussian reactionism and totalitarianism.

While it is certainly true that Hegel repeatedly attempts to link his philosophical argument to existing institutions and arrangements, this in no way implies that these extant institutions and arrangements constitute the very measure or criterion of truth or actuality. Hegel, on the one hand, holds that philosophy must be anchored in the actual world; to view philosophy as divorced from or opposed to political-historical actuality is to condemn it to the arbitrary, unstable whims of subjectivism. On the other hand, philosophy does not simply acquiesce to the actual world or uncritically attribute rationality to whatever exists. The actual is rational, but Hegel is careful to highlight that much of what exists is contingent and arbitrary—that is to say, neither rational nor actual in his sense of the term. Alan Patten has intimated a different explanation, which is that Hegel—rather than referring to the criteria for practical reasoning—is making an assertion about the subject matter of philosophical inquiry (Patten, 2002, p. 13). Philosophers, as interpreted by Patten, should focus their energies on rationally comprehending the present rather than imagining a world as it ought to be. If Hegel’s claim was about the subject matter of philosophy, it leaves open the question of the criteria of philosophical reflection, or what counts as an adequate understanding of the present.

It is also with Hegel’s conception of the state vis-à-vis individual freedom that it becomes clear that Hegel does not have totalitarian leanings. First, it is critical to differentiate Hegel’s esoteric use of ‘the state’ from the concept we commonly hold today. The state, according to Hegel, is an omnipresent sovereign ethical community or realm (a “spiritual individual”) that is distinguished from civil society. In civil society, individuals enjoy only particular or subjective freedom, whereas in the state they are positively or substantially free. In later passages of the Philosophy of Right, Hegel goes on to define the state as “the ethical whole”; “the actuality of the substantial will which it possesses in the particular self-consciousness once that consciousness has been raised to consciousness of its universality.” (1821, §258). The state is the actualisation of freedom, though this freedom that Hegel refers to is not characterised by the particular or arbitrary will of the individual, but by the individual’s substantial or rational will. Importantly, Hegel stresses that such substantial freedom must result from the “complete development” of particular freedom in there sphere of the family and civil society, which then has to “pass over of their own accord into the interest of the universal” (1821, §260). This underscores that individuals recognise and actively pursue their substantial freedom of their own compulsion. To this effect, the state represents the rational essence of human beings; a realisation of substantial freedom that is not divorced from the subjective awareness of individuals. It is on this basis that Hegel asserts that the substantial end of the state “has supreme right against the individual, whose supreme duty is to be a member of the state” (1821, §258).

By surfacing the intimate link between the state and the actualisation of modern freedom, Hegelian logic departs from the contractual model of the state and instead mirrors Aristotelean understanding of humans as by nature political animals. Although it may be easy to misread Hegel’s assertion that the individual’s “supreme duty is to be a member of the state” as a sanction for the subordination of subjective, individual freedom under the power of the state, Hegel makes clear that this is not the intention of his political organisation. A constitutional monarchy, according to Hegel, represents the apotheosis of constitutional development because it appears to be the only mode of governance which is able to reflect and to accommodate the modern principle of subjective freedom. The correlativity of constitutional monarchy and modern subjective freedom is likewise surfaced in Hegel’s lectures of 1817-18: “For a people that has developed to civil society, or in general to consciousness of the infinitude of the free ego in its determinate existence, in its needs, its freedom of choice, and its conscience, constitutional monarchy alone is possible” (2012).

A quick sketch of the constitutional monarchy that Hegel puts forth further clarifies his position against authoritarian or autocratic rule. Provisionally defined, a constitutional monarchy refers to a state in which the powers of the legislative, the executive, and the Crown are distinguished but ultimately united under a monarch who rules in accordance with the constitution and the decisions of his ministers (1821, §273, 277). Hegel holds that in a well-organised state, the monarch is bound by the laws and the constitution, as well as the objective advice of his ministers. On the role of the monarch in his constitutional scheme, Hegel states:

In a completely organised state, it is only a question of the culminating point of formal decision (and a natural bulwark against passion. It is wrong therefore to demand objective qualities in a monarch); he has only to say ‘yes’ and dot the ‘i’, because the throne should be such that the significant thing in its holder is not his particular make-up (1821, §280).

Although the function of the monarch is not entirely ceremonial, the actual powers granted to the monarch are so circumscribed that his “particular make-up” or character is practically of little consequence. By contrast, the ministers that advise the monarch on all matters of state and legislative initiatives gain considerable prominence in Hegel’s constitutional monarchy. In his Lectures, Hegel regards the accountability of the ministers to parliament as the most important check on their power, as this would “best guarantee […] ministers who are competent and whose attitude are governed by right” (2012, §149). Hegel in this respect keeps with the fundamental aspirations of reformers of his time, such as the Prussian statesman Stein who sought to “replace the arbitrary and irresponsible rule of royal cronies with orderly and responsible ministerial government” (Sheehan & Sheehan, 1993, p. 298). The act of making the ministers accountable would be integral in transforming, as German historian Otto Hintze would famously remark, the absolute monarchy into a bureaucratic monarchy. It was Hegel’s support for constitutionalism, a strong civil service, and public parliamentary debates that was regarded with suspicion by the Prussian monarchy, which perceived it as a form of moderate fulfilment of the principles espoused by the French Revolution.

In this context, one could argue that Hegel—instead of being a conservative reformist—appears to be a moderate liberal. He rejects the two traditional solutions to the problem of sovereignty: to Hegel, sovereignty belonged neither to the ruler (radical conservative) nor to the people (radical liberal); it instead belonged to the state from which both derived their existence. At the same time, while Hegel acknowledged Romantic critique of the Enlightenment’s ahistorical, asocial, and individualist account of reason, he continued to hold strong Enlightenment ideals concerning human rationality. For Hegel, as for Kant, human rationality is the key to autonomy and self-determination. Hegel regarded the demand for rational understanding and justification of norms and institutions as the hallmark of modern times, and he sought an account of society and government that met that demand.  Even more tellingly, Hegel posits that it is the task of practical philosophy to supply a conceptual presentation of the various legal, moral, and political phenomena in a way that captures human beings’ practical orientation towards happiness and welfare, or subjective desires. Although he conceives of substantial freedom as the ultimate aim for humanity, happiness and welfare consistently play prominent roles in his political philosophy. This is undoubtedly a modern and a more liberal position that Hegel holds.

In sum, I have shown how, in lieu of the conventionalist interpretation, Hegel’s Philosophy of Right may be more accurately read to preserve the integrity of Hegel’s political philosophy. To simply label Hegel as a lackey of the Prussian monarchy or a staunch conservative fails to appreciate the explicitly modern and more liberal elements of his work, most notably his strong emphasis on the fulfilment of subjective or particular freedom. Hegel’s ideal political organisation of a constitutional monarchy also suggests that he intended to guard the political community against the very despotism that people accused him of endorsing. A familiarity with Hegel’s esoteric frames of reference and historical context is thus key to this mode of interpretation. At the same time, the aim of this essay is not to vindicate Hegel’s philosophy of any political opportunism or discernment; indeed, it can still be said that Hegel exemplified prudence in constructing his political philosophy to better suit the political headwinds of his time.

Bibliography

Hegel, G. W. F. (1821). Philosophy of Right. In S. T. M. Knox (Ed.), Hegel’s Philosophy of Right (pp. 1–368; By G. W. F. Hegel). 

Patten, A. (2002). Hegel’s Idea of Freedom. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Popper, K. R. (2013). The Open Society and Its Enemies: New One-Volume Edition. Princeton University Press.

Sheehan, J. J., & Sheehan, J. J. (1993). German History, 1770-1866. Clarendon Press.

Stewart, J. M., Stewart, J. M., Hodgson, P. C., & Pöggeler, O. (2012). Hegel: Lectures on Natural Right and Political Science: The First Philosophy of Right. Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press.

[mbq-butwithart]

Sakura had a slight feeling- no, she was pretty sure everyone else knew something that she didn’t.

At first she ignored the obvious signs, chalking it up to her imagination. But soon, she was certain everyone was acting weird.

Ino kept elbowing her and giving her saucy winks and giggling behind her hand. Kiba kept shooting her devious grins and wished her an ‘interesting night’. Tenten avoided her eyes and questions, smiling secretively. Naruto and Sasuke were nowhere to be found.

Honestly, she’s had it up to here with their cryptic nonsense. She got enough of that from Sasuke, Kakashi and Neji and that was already too much.

Speaking of a cryptic Kakashi, earlier while she was being annoyed by Tenten’s refusal on explaining her downright confusing behaviour he appeared suddenly. He pressed a copy of his favourite series into her hands, saying that it might be useful later on.

What?

She considered burning it, but on a probably stupid whim, she kept it and tucked it into her basket. She had rose this morning with the idea of bullying her teammates in enjoying the day with her on a picnic, but Kakashi rattled off a nonsensical excuse and disappeared, which left Naruto and Sasuke, who were MIA.

The basket was heavy with food. She had been extra careful in preparing this food, so it was neither burnt or tasteless. The least her teammates could do was appreciate her efforts and eat it. But they were missing. And no one would tell her anything.

In hindsight, she probably should’ve stayed in bed, or at least downed another cup of coffee.

She was passing through the streets when she spotted Neji.

“Hey, Neji-san!” She yelled, waving her free hand.

At the sound of her voice, he turned and waited until she stumbled up to him.

“Ah, Sakura-san. I was looking for you.”

“Really?” She smiled. Here was a person without any silliness in him, he would surely tell her if he had seen her bonehead teammates.

“Yes, I was given something to deliver to you.”

While he searched in the pouch by his side, Sakura posed her question. “You haven’t by chance seen Naruto or Sasuke today, have you?” She inquired hopefully.

Neji was silent as he pulled out a small slip of paper and handed it to her. She took it, albeit confusedly.

“This will help you.” And he turned and strode down the street, quickly and gracefully. The pinkette glared at the brunette’s back. He had given her an answer, but not the one she wanted. At least he didn’t giggle.

Curiosity won over and she carefully placed her picnic basket down and opened the small piece of paper.

In neat handwriting that looks suspiciously like Shikamaru’s, the note said:

‘I take life, I give life, I house life.’

Pink eyebrows rose in disbelief. A riddle. A riddle! A riddle?

She should’ve definitely stayed in bed. Today was getting ridiculous. A picnic while watching the sun set was becoming to look like an impossibility. She rolled her eyes. Oh what the hell. She apparently didn’t have anything better to do anyway.

Time to put her big brain to work. Three possibilities sprung to mind immediately. The perks of being smart.

One, was a god. But do gods house life? Plus there weren’t any statues or temples in Konoha. Nothing to represent a god. Strike.

The second possibility a hospital, where babies were born and people died. Some people had to stay there too. But hospitals didn’t ‘give’ or ‘take’ lives. Just saved them or failed to save them. Strike. Which striked out medics as well. The terms didn’t apply. They helped life into the world, and yes sometimes they had to take people off life support machines, but they didn’t house life.

The last option looked at it a little less obviously. What was life? What gave life? Could be chakra, but chakra was too broad a subject, and she would never figure out where the next clue was. Every living thing had chakra. What was she gonna do? Check every person and tree?

The answer hit her then. Of course, a tree. A tree took in water, which was important for life, and it gave off oxygen, which also was important for life, and it was a habitat for wildlife.

It took life to sustain itself, then gave off life as a bi-product, and it housed many creatures.

But which tree? Konoha was quite literally in a forest. It must be their favourite tree. The big cherry blossom at the top of the small hill behind their training grounds. Where they relaxed after sparring. Where she had planned to have her picnic.

When she was there, Sakura walked the distance around the trunk, then looked up in its branches. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Shino there, watching her. They had obviously chosen the ones who could keep secrets to dole out the riddles.

He hopped down and handed the paper he held, before leaving with a quiet ‘good luck’. She thanked him. It wasn’t his fault the rest of team seven were infuriating. She could still be polite.

She was gonna break their little necks when she got to them.

She opened the riddle with more haste.

Choji’s writing. It smelt like potato chips.

‘What makes stressed turn back?’

Sakura’s clear green eyes narrowed. The sentence was confusing, but the bad grammar must’ve been intentional.

What got rid of stress?

Sakura’s answer was work until her mind comes off the problem, but that was most likely not the answer. Ino was sort of typical. What did she do?

Rant, eat sweets, complain, then go solve the problem by force.

Sweets. Stressed turn back. Oh, stressed backwards was desserts.

Sakura giggled. This was easy.

Many places sold sweets, but only one shop held the word ‘desserts’ in their name. Sakura skipped all the way there, glad to be making some progress. Shikamaru was there, looking bored out of his mind. She patted him on the back while he slunk off. This process repeated. She solved the riddle, she met someone and received the next.

Naruto’s handwriting was on the paper the lazy genius handed her. It wasn’t even a riddle. ‘This place sells the r- food EVER!’Answer, Ichiraku. The riddles kept getting easier and easier from there.

Hinata. Ino’s handwriting. ‘My pollen brings all the bees to the yard.’ Answer,Flowers: Yamanaka shop. Hinata ran off giggling with a smirking Kiba before she had a chance to interrogate her.

Ino. Hinata’s handwriting. ‘Toughest material on earth, but pretty enough to melt hearts. Outshines the stars, reflects love.’ Answer: Diamonds: Jewelry shops. Ino handed her a bouquet with a small smile.

Sakura clutched the red tipped yellow roses, orange roses, honeysuckle, daises and daffodils to her chest.

Friendship turned to love, passionate enthusiasm, bonds of love, hope, new beginning.

Her heart sped up along with her pace.

Tsunade of all people, stood at the entrance of the jewelry shop. She handed her student a brown paper bag with instructions not to open until she was at home. Sakura placed the bouquet and the bag carefully in her picnic basket. All Tsunade said was ‘I approve’ before handing Sakura her riddle.

Sasuke’s handwriting. ‘Here, gratitude I gave, mistakes were made.’ Answer: The bench he left her unconscious on. Her heart skipped. She could tell this little hunt was drawing to a close.

On that cold unforgiving bench, sat her masked former (but forever, in her heart) sensei. His smile was visible underneath his mask even as the day came to a close and the sun retreated, giving way to a midnight blue sky.

He clasped her free hand with his larger ones and neatly slipped the paper he held into it.

“I’m happy for you.” He said, and then he was gone. Leaving her with her heart hesitant but hoping against hope. She glanced at the flowers once more, reminded herself of their symbolism and smoothed out the paper Kakashi gave her..

‘Come home, Sakura.’ was written. Her hands shook as she dropped the paper in her basket and followed the route she knew so well she could follow it blindfolded. The streets that were full of her friends were only occupied by civilians who paid her no mind except to greet her or glance curiously at the flowers in the basket.

What was only under two minutes felt like hours until she arrived at her apartment.

She moved away from her parents’ house to here, where everything was purely her. Her green bedspread, white furniture, bright red rug, secondhand couch that used to be white, her mahogany desk, her bookshelf and her endless pile of scrolls and books.

Until it wasn’t just her. Their invading was subtle, Naruto left a bloodied shirt that she washed and he never retrieved it, Sasuke brought lunch over and left his plate there. Then they started to crash on her couch, or on her bed when she was away on missions. And then suddenly she found herself picking up cup ramen at the store and polishing Sasuke’s kunai in her spare time.

It wasn’t just green, white and red anymore. Suddenly there was black, orange, navy blue, crimson and a myriad of colours that made up them. And she knew that if any attempts to separate these colours were made scars would be left behind.

Her hand hovered over her doorknob. She could turn around and stay at Ino’s, she’d understand. They’d all understand. But that would erect a wall she would lament over all her life there would be what ifs that would eat her from the inside out until she was as hollow as a dead tree.

The cold metal sent shocks down her arm when her palm closed around it. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Inside was dark, but she didn’t flick on the lights. She knew this small space inside out. She headed straight to her bedroom without even putting down the basket. Just as her fingers were about to touch the brass metal of the doorknob, she caught her reflection in a full length mirror. Her eyes trailed from her open toed sandals up to her almost knee length blue-green sundress to her simple silver necklace up to her face.

Her face which was only graced by lipgloss but held so much hope and fear and hesitance and anticipation and love.

She turned away before she started wasting time staring at someone she saw everyday but looked so different with that emotion reflected on her face from her heart.

She could sense them and they could sense her, hesitating. She had better go in before they start worrying and doubting themselves.

She closed her eyes, and opened the door.

Their scent accompanied their chakra signatures. She breathed the air in deeply and adrenaline replaced her blood.

Her eyes fluttered before she opened them fully and she drank in the sight before her.

Sasuke, pale and cool and perfect like the moon.

Naruto, sunkissed and warm and vibrant like the summer’s sun.

Sat on her green bedspread with their fingers intertwined.

And their other hands reached out towards her.

She exhaled.

She didn’t move backward, and she didn’t move forward.

She froze, unsure, as the moon and the sun looked at her as if she was their world.

Sasuke looked indifferent, except his eyes followed her every move, took in every detail. Naruto’s smile held confidence but he unconsciously bit his lip and his hand tightened around Sasuke’s for comfort.

They were just as nervous as she was. She let out a breathy laugh that sounded more like a puff of breath.

Tears slipped down her face and before the first drop dripped off her chin, they were there by her side. Sasuke took the basket and set it down. He took up the bouquet and passed the paper bag to Naruto. Sakura watched them without a word.

Naruto almost tore open the bag and took out a small velvet box. Her heart stopped.

Sasuke plucked a cherry blossom flower that she didn’t notice from the assortment of flowers and tucked it behind her ear. His fingers lingered as they combed through her hair.

Naruto carefully opened the box, and in it was a delicate silver ring with three gemstones; emerald, sapphire, onyx. To remind her of their eyes.

The necklace around her neck was removed, and the ring was slipped down the chain.

A question was in their eyes as Naruto held it around her neck, hesitating to clasp it.

Sakura laughed again, this time hearty and loud. She wrapped her arms around their torsos and crushed them to her in an almost rib cracking hug. She was dimly aware of the necklace being clasped and being carried to her bed.

They laid there laughing, fingers intertwined, stealing kisses and hugging. Them three. As it was meant to be.

[theclosetpoet7]

His Wife Loves taking Risks

Disclaimer: Not mine, Naruto is

Notes on chapter: In which they try the Rinnegan body switching technique

Rating: T, with some suggested themes and mild cursing.

It starts with a small object.

Sakura suggests it one day after they are ambushed by rogue nin. It was simple enough to defeat the men, but her husband had decided that it was the right time to experiment, valiantly or stupidly opening a portal in front of his body as a means to stop a kunai from coming at him.

She had yelled at Sasuke to just deflect it while she held a two hundred pound attacker and flung him across the field. The neo-sannin merely responded with a small smirk and activated the Rinnegan.

The kunai would have pierced his smooth skin if she hadn’t thrown another one at it.

“Are you fucking kidding me anata?”

She dusts her gloves off and adjusts her ponytail, angrily stepping over a fallen opponent as she pads to her husband.

“That could’ve hit you!”

“But it didn’t.”

“Thanks to me!”

He bends down to pick up a shuriken that was deeply embedded on a brunette’s arm. The nin groans out in pain. He straightens up to smirk at her again. It is an expression he uses to calm her temper.

“I knew my wife would save me.”

Sakura stares dumbfounded at him, pissed but at the same time flattered that he’d been so trusting that he decided to play around during a battle.

“The next time you do that, don’t count on me to heal any injuries.”

He knows she’s just teasing but settles for nodding in reply.

“It’s interesting though.”

Pale ears perk up when she goes back into the topic.

“Let’s say you open a portal, do you think you can simultaneously open another?”

“What are you thinking of?”

She grins at him, picking up a small rock in her hand.

“Open two.”

She throws the rock towards his left as he activates his visual prowess. The small pebble enters a dimension of pure black. And once he’s opened another one, he reappears ten meters away from where he once stood. The pebble falls on where his feet was supposed to be.

The spouses stare at each other then.

Sakura’s emerald green eyes tell her husband that something has piqued her enthusiasm.

________________________

She tosses a kunai this time.

Of course he had tried switching places with a bigger object, but it was merely her chuunin jacket and had no way of harming him. And he had done it out of sheer will because there was no other way. Something had to be done or else he’d be stuck in that desert dimension forever.

Still though, his wife is too cunning and a good strategist. It was actually fun listening to her input on his technique but not surprising. She had always been adept in giving him instructions. It was a trait she possessed that helped with their teamwork during missions, like that time in their battle with the snow ninjas.

So, when Sakura throws him a handful of shuriken in addition to the kunais. And by throw, he means she’s actually trying to injure him with multiple sharp objects, Sasuke couldn’t help but switch places at least three dozen times before she’s finally satisfied.

“I would expect no less from you Anata, you mastered that pretty quickly.”

He wonders if she’s just training him.

.

.

.

Or actually trying to take his life.

__________________________

It is a twenty pound frozen turkey she wants to try this time.

He merely sweat drops at the sight.

“Such a waste.”

“Well, I’ll cook it after, so let’s try it.”

He observes his pretty spouse, with her long pink tresses that settles past her shoulders. She is wearing a scarf around her neck and is rubbing her glove-clad hands as she fights the chill of the winter weather.

“You’re cold.”

“You can warm me up later.”

She gives him a cheeky wink which only reddens his face as she supports the turkey with one hand, tossing it up and down, as if it didn’t weigh much. It still amazes him how easy she makes it look.

So he decides to humor her again.

He wonders what her endgame is, and he has an idea exactly what she wants in the future. Still though, he won’t try it unless she tells him. And even then, he might put up a fight.

But when the male nin successfully switches places with the bird, and they had determined that he can do it despite a fifty meter distance, Sasuke decides that he’d probably surrender to her whims anyway…

Considering how roughly she pushed him to their bed and had her way with him that very night.

______________________________

She’s holding a dummy the next week.

And judging by the size of it, the raven-haired nin concludes that yes, she does intend to do what he thinks she’s intending to do.

Sakura plants a kiss on his lips as she tries to reassure him that he can do it. He hesitates for a minute until she bites his ear and whispers seductively.

“I’ll reward you again later.”

He does it successfully in four tries.

And when the doors to their new house slam shut, when he’s pinned against the wall while she goes down on her knees,

Sasuke thinks that his wife’s positive reinforcement is working well for him.

___________________________________

“Let’s try it with me this time.”

“No.”

“Oh come on!”

He knows that she’s about to suggest it but had hoped that she wouldn’t. Six months had passed by since their last attempt and he honestly doesn’t want to risk it.

Still though, she is moody and is always trying to prove something.

It’s admirable but kind of stupid at the same time.

He knows that she wouldn’t have suggested such a thing if their blonde teammate had kept his mouth shut about her weight gain.

“I can still carry you, ignore what the dobe said.”

“Not with one arm, have you seen me lately?”

“Aa.”

Something in her forehead twitches.

“Are you agreeing that I’m fat Sasuke-kun?”

“No. Of course not.”

“So let’s do it.”

“No.”

“Please?”

His patience starts to wear thin.

“No, I won’t use the Rinnegan to switch places with you while you’re so far along.”

There is a sternness to his tone that allows her to straighten up. Then, she is waddling towards him. Sasuke wonders if she’s mad at him.

But she grabs his right hand in hers to lace their fingers together.

“Fine, Gomen. It was a stupid plan anyway.”

He lets out a relieved sigh.

“But, after?”

Sasuke nods his head.

“After.”

He accompanies his pregnant wife back home.

His heart is full of love and contentment.

_____________________________

Four months later, she sneaks a glance at him as she’s doing curl ups, still trying to shed the baby weight off.

He is holding Sarada in his arms, putting their daughter down for a nap.

He returns her look.

It doesn’t take much for him to figure out what she’s thinking.

“I’ll drop Sarada off at your mom’s for the afternoon.”

“Thank you darling.”

They succeed on the first try.

She lets out a victorious Shannaro when he successfully transports her to where he once stood, which was at the exact opposite of her location in their massive backyard.

It doesn’t take her a second before she’s running to his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist as she gives him a passionate kiss.

His lone arm pulls her thigh more tightly against him, eagerly returning her kiss as he carries her back to their home.

Truthfully, he had missed these rewards of hers.

So as he’s pulling her clothes off and she’s pulling his off, when he touches her gently, lovingly, when they finally connect their bodies and their souls; feeling that inner peace once again…

Sasuke hopes that they would never have to use such a technique.

But it’s amazing.

And oh so right.

And if by any chance he faces a foe in the future that will force him to activate his visual prowess, there’s no one else he’d rather have by his side than Uchiha Sakura.

________________________

Author’s Note: Based on Sasuke and Sakura’s awesome teamwork in the last episode of Gaiden.

[slartifartbast]

True story time! Mostly depressing, but some sexy stuff happens.

An evening of firsts

CW: Depression, explicit sexual content, internalized fatphobia, severe self-loathing & insecurity, STDs, uhhh, and if you think of something else that belongs here, please let me know so I can add it.

I’m giving my friend the pseudonym Leeta because she is, in fact, smoking hot, and she spent some time working as a burlesque dancer.

Before we get to the juicy details, the plodding backstory!

Late summer, 2002, Brooklyn, NY. It was my second year of renting a bedroom in a 4-story brownstone house near what is now referred to as the Atlantic Barclay’s Terminal. I was 23 years old and feeling somewhat secure in my place in the city again. I had a full time job, a relatively short commute, and had some spending money. I was thinking about “thinking about” dating. Spent some downtime at work looking at the Onion’s personals site, and realizing that there’s no way any of the women there would find me interesting (the dull personality persists).

One of the other rooms in the house had become vacant, and so Leeta applied. She was a 20 year old student at a nearby college. Imagine, if you will, Christina Hendricks’ physique and complexion. Morph Christina Hendricks’s face about 1/3 of the way to Kristen Schaal’s face, and you now can imagine Leeta perfectly.

The landlady had one major rule for the house: no fucking. She’s not getting any, so no one else is, either. Anywhere else, fine, just not here.

That was a rule I had no problem obeying. Hindsight tells me I had a reason to break that rule many times over. But we’re not there yet in the story.

Leeta and I became close friends. We’d watch movies together, hang out a bit after work/school, whatever. When the landlady went away on vacation, Leeta would platonically share my bed. If it was summer, I had the A/C. Winter, an electric blanket. The first time, I asked if I could cuddle with her. She found this endearing and consented. After a few minutes, she said “you’re not very good at this; where’s your legs?”

“To be embarrassingly honest, I’ve never been this close to anyone before, and I’m completely aroused. You didn’t sign up to deal with that.”

She grabbed a spare pillow to put between us, I got closer, and we fell asleep. So that was our relationship. Caring, affectionate, with some teasing here and there about my utter lack of experience. We supported each other when we had romantic prospects.

A year later, the landlady decided to retire and sell the house. We moved out, went our separate ways, hanging out once in a while. I still had all kinds of feelings for her, but never made them known. We went to the movies once, and she did the “yawn, stretch, arm around the shoulders” thing to me. I blushed, smiled, and held her hand. At dinner afterward, she showed me a portfolio booklet that she had modeled for. The cover was a picture of her, nude, laying in a bathtub. Just full frontal everything. I lost the capacity to speak for a few minutes. Upon recovering, I managed to compliment how the angle, composition, and lighting perfectly captured her delectable curves. We hung out a few more times, but eventually lost touch for a couple of years.

I was dealing with depression, anxiety, and self-loathing. I got back into the habit of eating my feelings. There was someone else I was developing a friendship with, who seemed to be interested in more, but by the time I figured that out, she had moved on to another guy in our circle of friends. I was devastated and miserable and withdrawn and just completely fucking hated myself. At this point, I was working second shift and the idea of dating was HARD. There were attempts, but I never knew what to say or do. My inbox was always empty. On a whim, at the end of 2006, I emailed Leeta to see what she was up to.

A week later, she responded: “Call me.”

And so I did! We agreed that she’d meet me at my job the next day around 7 PM, because we’d be alone by that time of day. I reminded her that my boss has an unpredictable habit of leaving work at 6, going home from Manhattan to New Jersey for a few hours, and then returning for no apparent reason.

Leeta showed up at just the right time and we greeted each other with a warm hug. We caught up on what she had been up to. She got on my computer and pulled up a website with pics of her at work, dancing in various states of undress. I tactfully complimented her, and eventually she changed the subject to me. I explained why I was in a bad way.

She took my hand, and lead me to the day-glow orange IKEA foldout couch, and sat me down. She turned away from me and began dancing. Then she sat on my lap and started grinding.

“Leeta, despite what you can feel through our pants...if this is out of pity, I don’t want it.”

She got up, turned around, mounted me face to face, took off her shirt, pulled her breasts out of her bra, and pulled my head to her chest. Hearing and feeling her heart beat, I kissed my way up to her collarbone, neck, and face. When I got to her lips, she hesitated. Her fingers ran through my hair as I held her other hand, and I asked her to please kiss me back.

28 goddamn years old, and begging for my first kiss.

After a moment, she did. Deeply, passionately. Her tongue surprised me, becoming a tornado around my own while she went back to grinding and groping me. She sat up a little, pushed my face between her breasts, and I worshipped them for what felt like either an eternity, or 0.68 seconds. I could have spent the rest of the night doing so, but my attention was eventually needed elsewhere.

“Mmmm, I’m wet. Here, feel.”

I obliged, because I’m a dutiful scientist. It’s really difficult to reach down someone’s jeans when they’re sitting on your lap. She unbuttoned and unzipped, and I was able to verify her condition.

We stood up. I pulled out and unfolded the couch while she took off her shoes & pants. She laid down and I got on top, kissing and licking from her head down to her toes, pausing briefly at her hips to slowly pull off her underwear. On my way back up, she opened her legs and guided my hand. I’d seen enough educational porn to understand what she wanted. I “come hithered” until she couldn’t take it any more, slurped her juices from my fingers, and went right back at it. By the 7th or 8th time, she was convulsing and grabbing at me. We kissed as she came down from the high. She got up on her knees, bent over and proclaimed, “I like it rough. Spank me?” I admired, caressed, squeezed, kissed, licked, and finally spanked her glorious ass. I moved to a better angle so I could finger and spank at the same time. I don’t get the whole pain/pleasure thing, but she certainly enjoyed herself.

It was then that Leeta noticed that I was still fully clothed. Not even slightly unbuttoned. I was (am) terribly uneasy about being naked with anyone, even with someone who wanted me. My face and body look like sacks of potatoes, and I felt unworthy of proceeding further. On top of that, I didn’t want to lose my virginity in my office, surrounded by dust and fumes, where my boss could return at any moment and I’d lose my job.

Unfortunately, she internalized my insecurity. “Is it because I’m ugly?” she asked.

“I’m the ugly one here. I’m so grateful to be with you, but this place is disgusting, my boss could be here soon, and I don’t have a condom. Your place or mine?”

“I can’t, I have to go to work.”

“How much do you need for tonight’s shift? I can cover you. Please, I want to be with you.”

“That’s not it; if I don’t show up, they won’t let me come back.”

I gathered up her clothes and “helped” her get dressed, kissing her all over. When she was ready to go, we embraced and made out for another minute. She proposed a FWB situation, to which I agreed.

Looking back, I realize this was out of insecurity, and she possibly wanted more. If she had asked, I would have said yes. I just didn’t know better at the time.

I let her go, and texted her as she left the building. “You’re wonderful, I can’t wait to see you again.”

I finished my shift uninterrupted, went home floating, and did some...“scientific research”.

I didn’t hear from her for weeks. The first week, I texted her every day. The messages quickly transitioned from Thirsty to Worried. After getting no response, I gave up.

Another week or so passed, and I sent a “I miss you, I hope you’re okay” text.

Finally, a response: “I have herpes.”

“Funny! Seriously, it’s ok if you don’t want to sleep with me. I can take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“I’m not kidding.”

I was not well. I was sad and angry, mostly for selfish reasons. I kept it all in, though, figuring she was going through enough stuff. I took her to dinner that weekend, and she explained what happened.

Leeta felt rejected because I didn’t have sex with her in my office. After her shift, she met a guy on the train ride home. He seemed nice. She went home with him, slept with him, spent a lot of time with him. A week later, she was at Planned Parenthood for an exam, pointed to a sore, and asked a nurse, “what’s that?”

She went to the guy, who had no idea. He had been kicked out of a very strict, religious, and anti-science (also, anti-“science”) home at an early age, had no knowledge about, well, anything. She decided to help him get his shit together. We parted that night, and I hugged her for what was probably an inappropriate amount of time.

A few months of friendly texting followed, and eventually Leeta expressed the idea of setting me up with one of her friends. The three of us would meet at a jazz club, with Leeta as a mutual wingwoman. “Denise” was super cute, and we had some common interests. It was awkward at first, but we had a good time. We shared a cab home because we lived on opposite ends of the same neighborhood. Sadly, Denise and I had opposing work schedules, and despite my efforts, we never saw each other again. It was also the last time I saw or heard from Leeta.

I have missed her ever since. But more selfishly, I miss the way I felt when I was with her. With Leeta, I never felt any kind of pressure to work and earn her affection; it was just there, and I reciprocated it. I never had a relationship like that since.

[headcanon-haven]

AIW Extra!

To make up for being a total piece of shit, here’s a little expansion on that ask that I got earlier in the week, regarding what would have happened in the story had George and Winifred still been alive in AIW verse.  So yes, I wrote a synopsis of an AU of my AU fic. 

Let’s say that George and Winnie Barnes didn’t die in 2012.  The tragedy didn’t shake Bucky into going for a different career goal – instead he finished his Bachelor’s degree in robotics engineering the following spring, and his whole family was there at graduation to celebrate with him.  Unfortunately, the job market in New York wasn’t exactly welcoming for someone with a B.E., and especially hard on an omega with a pretty specialized B.E. at that. He’d had a few bites on interviews leading up to graduation, but nothing is set in stone, had no luck getting help from the career advisors at NYU, and ended up instead taking the unpaid internship with an up-start company that was designing new software to control drones, one that one of his professors helped him get a foot in the door on.

He spends the next year living a lot like we see him at the outset of AIW, living in some ratty little closet of a studio in Hell’s kitchen, surviving largely off of off-brand canned pasta and rice and beans (and the care packages that his mom continues to send, bless her).  When his eleven months are up the company gives him a half-hearted thanks for all of his hard work and the promise of a good recommendation for his job applications, but of course can’t afford to bring another employee on full-time, even if he was far and away the most productive member of their staff.  It’s frustrating but not totally disheartening, so Bucky takes it with a smile and heads back into the job searching game.

 Job hunting goes even worse than it has for him throughout the course of AIW – no companies are willing to give an omega with a Bachelor’s degree the time of day, and definitely won’t consider taking him on and helping with his Master’s degree.  George goes so far as to looking into taking out a second mortgage on their house in Indiana, to help Bucky with cost of living fees and books so that he can apply to schools in New York, but Bucky can’t bear the thought of being such a burden on his family, especially not when Becca’s about to start college as well. So after a long, hard debate, he makes the decision that he decides will be best for everyone involved: he enrolls in the graduate computer engineering program at Purdue, and he moves back home to Indiana.

West Lafayette is a far-cry from Manhattan, and Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t more than a little embarrassed to head back to the Midwest, but at the same time it’s nice to be within a couple of hours of home and the cost of living is reasonable enough that he can largely support himself with a couple of tutoring jobs and the TA stipend that he gets as part of his master’s program.  He finishes his master’s degree within a pretty easy year and a half, makes a few good contacts with different manufacturing companies in the Midwest who need more engineers to help with their automated machinery systems, and ultimately lands a decent-paying job with a small contracting firm based out of Indianapolis that designs, builds, and services line machines for car companies around the Rust Belt.

It’s a far cry from his dreams, but Bucky’s able to make it work.  Most of the engineers in the company are older alphas, which is a blessing because it means he has to put up with considerably less harassment and bullshit than he tended to get from single alphas that were his own age in his classes and internships, but sucks because of how little he has in common with them.  The fact that he’s at least building and designing *something*, and is able to support himself and help with his sister’s tuition to Northwestern and make his family proud as hell is the main thing that keeps him going, and from regretting leaving New York in the first place.

And the story really starts to get interesting during a business trip to Chicago, when Bucky went along with the rest of the engineers in his department to some random conference, not realizing that they were all planning on bringing their significant others and that he’d really have NOTHING to do in the downtime, especially since Becca chose the weekend to suddenly be too cool to hang out with her older brother in the city.  

On a whim he grabs a city pass to hit up the museums in the area, only instead of going to the museum of Science and Technology for the 1000000000000th time, Bucky wanders off to the Chicago Museum of Contemporary Art, for laughs.  And he probably would have just wandered in and out en route for the Field Museum, there’s a new exhibit that catches his eye (or rather, its first piece stops him in his tracks in the middle of the hallway, and refuses to let him walk away from it).

The title is some vague, incomprehensible statement about beauty and sex and gender – Bucky doesn’t even read the banner, because he’s so focused on the woman in the painting below it.  She’s blonde and heavily pregnant, with a bond mark on her neck that indicates that she’s an omega, but she looks so strong and proud and powerful that Bucky is drawn to her like a magnet.  Another woman stands beside her in the picture, stern and brunette, and an omega as well, which is… practically unheard of.  But they’re so unlike anything that Bucky has ever seen in traditional media, represent so much more of how he feels, that the next thing he knows he’s wandering through the exhibit, wanting for more.

And between the images of alphas and betas and omegas of all shapes and sizes and sexes, all showing their true human sides, Bucky gets so wrapped up in the paintings that he’s teary-eyed and completely unashamed of it.  

At some point along the way a short, slender blond man appears at his side, a quiet presence as Bucky continues to marvel over the paintings, taken in in ways that he’d never imagined art could actually do.  He’s so overwhelmed by it that he actually mentions as much to the stranger on his right, who immediately engages him in conversation, probing for questions and opinions and actually listening to Bucky’s passionate (if uneducated) responses… something he’s hardly expecting, given the whiff of alpha musk that he catches coming off of the guy.

*waves hands* anyway this goes on for the better part of an hour, until they’ve finally made their way through the exhibit and Bucky realizes that he’s never actually introduced himself to the (ridiculously attractive) stranger, so he does and gets the guy’s name in return and takes a solid forty-five seconds before he realizes, with mortification, that it’s the damned artist who created the exhibit.  

So he tries to excuse himself with the shreds of dignity he has left, of course… but Steve waves off his apologies, instead pointing out that it was nice to finally critically talk about his work to someone who appreciated it for what he made of it, rather than who made it in the first place.  And so on and so forth, the conversation turns into drinks turns into dinner, and meeting up for coffee the next morning, and seeing each other one last time before Steve has to head back home to New York, and yadda yadda eventually they end up getting together and living happily ever after (and Bucky moves back to New York and is able to use his connections and his skills in the industry to find a job there, one that suits him a little better), and they still get their happy little family, just more on Bucky’s terms and with a Nana and Papa in Indiana to help and without all of the drama and angst that is going to go into the AIW process.

*jazz hands*

[norbertoo595067-blog]

25 You Create Me Happy Quotes

Every Wednesday on To Passion, Tribute and Vacuum cleaner our experts chat marital relationship, since I adore sharing factors that will develop your relationship. Use all of them as self inspiration workout to acquire the necessary self inspiration skill-sets, which will assist you to end up being a far more healthy and balanced as well as happy individual. If you beloved this information in addition to you would want to receive more information concerning yellow pages residential search uk (veg-frutas1.info) generously stop by our web site. Ladies frequently contrast themselves to other women, when you look at other women when she is actually around, you will certainly make her feel as though she is actually not good enough. 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This doesn't imply I neglect just what's taking place, yet performs imply I could use my power regarding it in a different way, coming from a much more spiritual perspective, while I produce my personal type of contribution, which is composing exactly what I perform, and also anything else I receive creativity to do, consisting of being actually an example whenever I can, particularly when I may removal myself away from vanity and also in to passion, collaboration, and also kindness. Ensure That He Really isn't Simply Hearing Your Slam Him: As an individual that has performed the opposite of the discussion, I could tell you that when you listen to these words, that can easily seem like an attack as well as that can experience as if you should guard your own self. When you respect just how your partner thinks, he is actually tied to be even more contented in the marital relationship, which consequently will certainly produce him satisfied. Because she knows that makes them pleased, she offers all of them every chance to create her happy. Let these twelve love quotes suggest from exactly how you believe about your loved one this Sweetest Day. He might seem definitely crazy along with you, yet the trouble is actually that the spontaneous means of Aries might create him assume this is greater than just an infatuation. BECAUSE they have a powerful as well as satisfied relationship and a fantastic sex lifestyle to begin along with, many couples who appreciate the swinger way of life do that. Make certain that you possess pin pointed the factor responsible for this and that you have discovered the remedy to this if you are shying out from the marriage partnership. Create sure that you attempt the Kamni Capsules for the best interests of your connection if you are actually looking for the finest answer. I was thus pleased as well as visited him, that was just how our company began living together gladly once again. Eventually, this surpasses the inquiry: Perform our team have a right to become delighted or even to pay attention to being therefore, especially in today times. B: There are simply two errors one can easily create along the street to honest truth: not going all the way, as well as not beginning. May be they are going through bumpy ride, as well as through sending all of them these quotes you may make all of them smile and also lighten up their time. When her track was actually ended up, Rachel headed back to their table, allowing compliments off their friends as she passed by. As she approached their table, Kurt connected to her.