#2023 would never draw my wife wrong

[solradguy]

Guy He’skay

[sl-newsie]

The Secret Ingredient (Willy Wonka (2023) x Fickelgruber Daughter) Chapter 2: Pleased To Meet You

“Are you alright, Ms. Charlotte?” Lottie asks as she brings over my breakfast tray. “You seem distracted.”

She’s right. Ever since yesterday my mind’s been in a fog. I can’t stop thinking about the man in the top hat. It’s like I’ve got a nagging feeling in the back of my head that’s itching to know who he is.

“Sorry, Lottie. I usually don’t take so much interest in newcomers, but there was something different about that man yesterday. I hope father doesn’t go too hard on him.”

“I very much plan to!” The man in question announces. “That Wonka fellow is going to wish he’d never set foot in this town!”

My head perks up. “Wonka?” Now I have a name to match the face. “But why? He won’t hurt anyone.”

Father scoffs. “He will hurt our business! Besides, he’s-” he shutters. “P- P-”

I raise a brow. “Poor?”

He leans over and gags. “Yes! That! But don’t worry, dear. We are going to run him out and he will no longer be a threat.”

I feel my temper start to churn and I gawk at his arrogance. “There’s more to life than competition, dad. He wants to sell chocolate, that’s all. Isn’t encouraging his dream worth a few coins?”

But it’s no use. Once again my words wash over father and he walks off to join Prodnose and Slugworth for their morning meeting. Guess I’ll go back to my usual reading and study sessions? Unless…

“Say, Lottie,” I think out loud. “I might be willing to take up that offer from yesterday. You’d still be inclined to sneak me out tonight for a bit, would you?”

The maid’s eyes widen and she gets a funny smile. “Yes! I knew it! I knew there was something funny about you yesterday!”

I frown. “What’s that mean?”

She giggles. “Oh, you know. See a cute boy, can’t stop thinking about him…” She trails off suggestively.

“Excuse me?” I gawk. “What’s wrong with wanting to meet someone new? This man might be the adventure I’ve been looking for!”

The day drags on unbelievably slow. The whole time I’m stuck in mind-numbing private lessons about finance and lady etiquette. The only enjoyable session I have is my lecture on chocolate chemistry.

“Mr. Snickers, just how many cocoa beans can be churned into chocolate? Wouldn’t it be the more beans there are the richer the chocolate is?”

My teacher gets a certain gleam in his eye that always happens when I spark an idea. “One would think, Ms. Fickelgruber. But there is also a rumor that there could be a secret ingredient we may never be able to measure.”

A secret ingredient…

Mr. Snickers is by far one of my favorite people. Sometimes I wish he was my adoptive father. He’s no doubt much more caring than my real one. Sadly he has no wife or kids of his own so he’s devoted his life to teaching. His lessons both inspire imagination and moxy, which are things my life craves on a daily basis.

“I’ll leave off with that note,” Mr. Snickers says as he packs up his briefcase. “Remember your assignment is to compare the different cocoa bean to sugar ratios from the major chocolate corporations.”

Just then Lottie appears with his weekly check in hand. They both exchange shy smiles and my hypothesis thickens. For weeks I’ve been seeing their feelings blossom and it only drives my curiosity behind the idea of love. Obviously they take a fancy to each other so why ignore it? But perhaps it’s not as simple.

I catch a quick peek at the window. It’s dark now, meaning it’s almost time for father to retire to bed. My moment of opportunity approaches. It’s best to wear something less conspicuous so as to not draw attention from the constables. For this evening’s confidential gallivant I choose a plain light pink dress with brown boots. I’m actually surprised these are still in my closet. I haven’t worn anything this “poor” in years. But unlike father I prefer a touch of modesty.

Deep breath. Take a look outside… All dark. Father’s gone to bed. Time to move-

Thump. Thump.

What in Heaven? There’s footsteps on the ceiling- Wait a minute. Is that…? It is! The chocolate man and a little girl are floating on the roof! Carrying… balloons? There’s no way I can walk away from this now!

I do little to hide my excitement and take off running down the staircase.

Lottie spots me and starts following. “Where are you going?”

My smile widens. “I’m meeting destiny, Lottie!”

She grips her long skirt and chases after me. “Wait for me! I need to sneak you out, remember?”

Right. That part.

“Quick, get in here.” Lottie beckons to the dumbwaiter and I climb inside. “Once you’re downstairs, take the door on the right. It should lead you to the back alley. Good luck!”

She gives me one final wave and I’m lowered into the cellar. Down here all there is are extra ingredients and old trunks full of countless forgotten things. I follow Lottie’s instructions and step out into the brick alley. It’s so dark not a single shadow is cast. The perfect environment for a quick sneak-out.

If my intuition is correct, the wind would have blown the two balloonists towards West End Street. Thankfully there’s little foot traffic so I have the courtesy to search the skies without bumping into anyone. Since father hardly lets me leave I need to stay focused and not get lost. I shall use landmarks. Like this fountain-

“Don’t sell chocolate here ever again!”

The police chief’s familiar voice heightens my attention and I see him holding a man’s head under the cold water. Wait! Why is he dunking him?

“Stop!” I sprint over and now see it’s the Wonka man that’s being held under. “Chief, he’s done nothing wrong!”

“On the contrary, miss. He sold chocolate without a license.”

After a few seconds too long I start to fear for his vitals. “Let him breathe!”

The chief realizes he’s still holding Wonka under. “Oh. Right.”

He lets go and the poor man rises gasping for breath, sopping wet. Same overcoat, same worn out boots. I notice a top hat on the ground and pick it up to offer him. But Wonka’s still clearing the water from his eyes and he doesn’t see. 

“There’s your warning, Wonka,” the chief pats him on the back and starts walking away. “Have a good evening, miss.”

Wonka wipes the wet hair away from his face and now I can see just how cute he is, even if he is wet. But not just cute. There’s an intriguing look about him that makes me feel nostalgic and want to explore the wildest ideas my mind can conjure.

“It is you!” I gasp. “The strange man with the magic chocolate!” 

The man himself does a mock bow and tilts his head. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

I shake my head. “No. In fact, I was hoping I might find you to meet you properly.”

Wonka’s eyes twinkle. “Really?”

“Yes I want to meet the man who made everyone happy with his chocolate. You see, normally the chocolate around here isn’t as enchanting as others make it out to be. But your chocolate really seemed to spark something in people yesterday.” I bite my lip and hold up his hat again as a kind of peace offering. “I’m sorry you got kicked out. I tried to stop them.”

“Thank you!” The man grins and places the hat on his head. “Well, since you have done me a service it’s only fair that you get to taste the marvelous chocolate you seem to admire. Here, try one!” 

He digs into his pocket and pulls out a chocolate the size of a strawberry. No charge? Father would go ballistic over free samples. It’s not that I’m not touched by his gesture but chocolate has sadly started to become more ordinary than it should.

“Oh, thank you. I appreciate it, really. It’s just… I’m personally not a big fan of chocolate…”

“Come again?” Wonka suddenly gets a serious expression. “I don’t trust people who don’t like chocolate.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t not like chocolate, it’s just that chocolate’s been a bigger part of my life than I’d care to admit.”

The man seems amused by my answer and tips his hat.

“I like you! Oh, where are my manners? Name’s Wonka, Willy Wonka! At your service! Miss…?”

A name. He wants my name.

I bite my lip again as I banter with my internal struggle. 

“It’s Charlotte.”

Willy gives me a lopsided grin. “Usually there’s a second part, right?”

I nervously laugh half-heartedly. “Yes, but for me people usually judge me differently when they hear the second part.”

The top-hatted man steps closer and wiggles his eyebrows. “Promise I won’t.”

I arch an eyebrow to show my doubts.

“I promise! And-” He holds up a pinkie. “I’ll pinkie promise!”

His childlike demeanor is too adorable to ignore despite my brain tugging at me to say no.

“Charlotte Fickelgruber,” I speak quickly and tense up, waiting for him to scoff or lose interest. But instead Willy’s surprise is actually polite.

“Really? I didn’t know Fickelgruber had a daughter.”

“Not many do,” I mutter. “Aside from being next in line for his chocolate empire I really don’t have much purpose.”

“Why say that?” Willy asks. “You’re part of one of the biggest chocolate industries ever!”

“Yes, and you’ve personally witnessed how cruel my father can be.”

We start a slow walking pace down the dimly-lit cobblestone street. Now I notice Willy’s still using a cane.

“Why the cane? You're not crippled.”

“It adds character!” he smiles. “You’d be surprised how many uses it can have.”

I peer over at him with curious eyes. “What’s your story? You’re obviously not from here.”

Wonka grins. “That obvious, huh? You’re right. I’ve just come from sailing 7 years at sea.”

My eyes widen. “Sailing? That sounds fun! What’s it like? Are there sea monsters and mermaids? I’ve only ever read about what the outside world is like.”

The man chuckles at my response. “I never spotted one of those, though that doesn’t mean they could be real. Do you read much?”

“Yes. Books are what take me away from here.”

“I know someone who thinks the exact same thing,” Willy points at me as if he’s a salesman addressing a lucky customer. “Well, this is me.”

We’ve stopped at what looks like a dingy hotel. Hm. For being such a colorful character Wonka certainly picked a dodgy place to stay.

“Will you be back at the Galeries Gourmet tomorrow?” I ask anxiously. “People adore your chocolate so you’re bound to make a big profit.”

Willy takes off his hat and twirls it open his finger. “Sadly I’m afraid my business deals will have to be done under the table from now on. Or better yet, under the city.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that since I’m not allowed to sell chocolate in the Galeries Gourmet without a license then I’m selling it elsewhere.”

An uneasy feeling starts to churn in my stomach. Illegal chocolate? What has this world come to?

“Don’t worry.” He must have noticed my concern. “I made some new friends who have helped me come up with a plan. By tomorrow Wonka chocolate will be sold throughout the city for one sovereign apiece, unbeknownst to the police.”

I stifle a laugh. “You only charge one sovereign? No wonder father and the others are upset. That’s way too affordable for their standards.”

Willy just shrugs. “Chocolate shouldn’t be deprived from anyone.” He dramatically looks around to see if anyone’s watching and leans in to whisper: “If you wanna see us in action, stop by the bridge tomorrow.”

My breath catches. “B- But I’m… me.”

“Yes. You are you. What’s wrong with that?” he asks.

“I’m the daughter of one of the men who are trying to run you out of town.”

“So? You’re not your father, Charlotte. Seems to me like you want to change the world with chocolate as much as I do.”

“Psst!”

We both look up to see a girl’s face peeking out of the top window. She’s the one Willy was flying with earlier!

“Willy! Come on! I’ve got the milk, now get up here so we can make the chocolate!”

“Right!” Willy turns back to me and tips his hat as he starts sneaking off to the back stairs. “Sorry to rush Charlotte but duty calls! See you tomorrow!”

And tomorrow can’t come soon enough!

[warren-cold]

“Oh, what a tangled web we weave...when first we practice to deceive.” - Walter Scott, Marmion

May 24th, 2023

Julieta Jimenez lay sound asleep, her head resting against Warren’s bare chest, her arm draped across him to keep him close. It was three in the morning, but Warren lay wide awake, his eyes fixed on the dark ceiling of the room they were in. This was Julieta’s home, a place meant only for her, but he couldn’t help thinking someone would suddenly burst through the door.

It was a constant battle in his heart and mind. He knew he could not love the woman in his arms yet here he was, pretending he could. He needed to, all for the sake of going home yet this thought didn’t make the task easier. It was becoming more difficult to feign his affection for her. The hatred that was growing within him was threatening to bubble to the surface. The more he got to know her, the more he was repulsed by her.

At first, he had believed she was just a pawn to her brother, a victim with no way out but he now knew the truth. She wanted to help her brother with the madness he created. Julieta alone could easily abduct young girls mid-day without drawing attention. It was easy for her to do. She even bragged about it.

Warren could often taste the bile in his mouth. He choked it down and closed his eyes momentarily, sighing heavily,

Julieta stirred in his embrace but did not open her eyes. “Amor, what’s wrong?” she mumbled in her sleep, her nails delicately skating across his skin.

“Just a bad dream. I dreamt I had lost you to someone else,” Warren lied easily, speaking in a soft voice to her.

This caused Julieta to open her eyes, lifting her head so she could look at him, even though the darkness. “That would never happen. I love you. I promise, you have nothing to worry about,” she told him, leaning closer so she could place a kiss beneath his jawline.

Warren nodded, hooking her chin with his finger to tilt her head up. He kissed her lips lightly then her cheek. “I love you too,” he told her gently.

Julieta groaned happily, nestling closer against Warren. “Amor, I want to know everything about your life. We’ve been together a while now and you still haven’t introduced me to your friend,” she said, perking her head up so she could look at him.

“Who? Brad?” Warren asked, referring to Adriel.

Julieta nodded. “Yes, him. He’s handsome and I have a few cousins who would love to get to know him, you know?”

“Ah, well Brad. He’s…a widow. He lost his wife a year or so ago and he’s sworn off love. She was his soulmate so I don’t think he would be interested in your cousins, as beautiful as they may be,” Warren explained.

“Oh. How did she die?”

“A fire broke out in their apartment. He couldn’t get to her in time,” said Warren, sighing softly and glancing at her.

“That’s so sad. I’m sorry to hear that,” Julieta said, pausing. “But I would still like to get to know him. Invite him out. My brother is throwing a party on one of his yachts. You two should come so that way, I can finally introduce you to my brother. You will love him.”

“I’m finally meeting him? About time. I was beginning to think you were keeping our relationship a secret,” Warren teased her, nipping at her neck.

This made Julieta squeal, her hands squeezing Warren. “Not a secret, amor, no. It’s just that…I don’t just bring anyone to meet my brother. I must be sure I can trust whoever I’m bringing to my brother,” she explained, sitting up so she could stretch out.

Warren watched as the sheets slipped from her bare body, exposing her naked flesh to him. He instinctively reached for her, his hand grasping her hip to urge her back to him. “So you trust me?” he asked.

“With my life, amor and I’ve never been wrong,” Julieta stated confidently. This caused Warren to smirk.

“I look forward to meeting him then. We’re taking the next step in our relationship. This means a lot to me,” he said, eyeing her.

“Me too, amor. So, it’s settled then? You will talk to Brad about the yacht party and I’ll see you both later today?” she asked.

“I’ll talk with him and let you know but I’m sure it’ll be a yes. I can be pretty convincing and it’s what you want so what you want is what you’ll get,” he replied.

“Good answer,” she said, laying back down next to Warren and pressing a kiss to his chest before closing her eyes so she could attempt to fall back asleep.

Warren stared up at the ceiling long after she had fallen asleep. They were going to meet their target in less than 12 hours.

[alchemil-studio]

Devlog #3 - June 2023

Hello~!

June has ended and with it we have some more updates regarding the progress of Norvale!

As we mentioned in the previous devlog, we’ve finished the initial story draft for the Craft Store route. In this route, Morgan decides to visit the local craft store in search of something that they can pick up as a new hobby. But once they arrive, they find two men arguing in the middle of the street…

NEW CHARACTERS

The designs for the two men, Frank and Kushal, have been completed and we’ve uploaded their character introductions yesterday.

Frank is the father of Louis, one of Morgan’s childhood friends, and the owner of the local toy store that sits across the street from the craft store. He’s someone that comes across rough at first but once you get to know him, he’s a pretty friendly guy. Despite being on good terms with Kushal’s wife Lathika & his daughter Sara, he never seems to get along with Kushal himself and is prone to starting arguments with him over pointless things…

Compared to the initial sketches, his face became a bit more oval compared to the rounder face of the pencil sketches. While making rough designs for his clothes, they were simple like a plain t-shirt and sandals or a sloppily tucked in shirt to go with his rough but friendly personality. But we decided to make him dress a bit neater and added a jacket to his outfit as well to fit the late spring season the story takes place in.

“He decided to head outside for a bit and threw on a jacket, just in case it gets chilly.” is the basic idea behind his final outfit.

Kushal’s design was pretty straightforward. Although looking back, he might’ve lost a bit of the aloofness of the pencil sketch since his features turned softer in the final design.

Kushal is the father of Sara, another one of Morgan’s childhood friends, and the owner of the local craft store. A man of few words and even fewer expressions, his stoicism and blunt words sometimes tend to rub people the wrong way. While he usually prefers to stay out of trouble, he’s always ready to throw words with Frank.

I drew the first outfit, the red Kurta with black pants to draw out a more traditional Indian feel, while designs 2 through 4 were mostly inspired by things dads usually wear haha

We ended up going with the outfit in design 2 since we felt it was a good casual but still somewhat formal outfit someone like Kushal would wear, while keeping the skin color of the first design.

The blue looks a little striking at first glance but I think the white accents bring some balance.

There’s still a little bit more sprite related work to go before I finish the character art for this route. After that, the plan is to move onto character designs for the third route and once those are done, the focus will be shifted to drawing backgrounds. There’s still a lot of artwork to go but I’ll do my best! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

DEVELOPMENT

Not much to update for the development side, aside from how we’ve started working on applying the new GUI to ren’py and experimenting on some GUI features we’ve thought about before and while conceptualizing the newer GUI. We’ll continue to finish implementing the GUI to the ren’py script before fixing some kinks/feature fixes then the story script itself unto the game. 

tl;dr: we’ve made quite a lot of progress for the 2nd part of the story in terms of assets. We’ll slowly but surely continue to develop and flesh out the full version of the game, so please continue to support us!

In summary, we’re making progress! Although small, we are making progress and a positive one at that! Please look forward to the full release of Norvale!

---

Links

Carrd: Alchemilla Studios

Twitter: @Alchemil_Studio

Instagram: @Alchemil_Studio

Itch.io: Alchemilla Studios

[hardynwa]

I will never forgive Noble Igwe for insulting my wife – Seyi Law

Nigerian comedian, Seyi Law has vowed never to forgive his colleague, Noble Igwe until he apologises to his wife. He said his grudge against Noble was because he mentioned his wife in a post during the 2023 electioneering campaign and someone commented under it, calling his wife an “outcast.” Seyi Law threatened to go physical on Noble whenever they met. Speaking in the latest episode of The Honest Bunch, the comedian said: “There is somebody in the entertainment industry that I will never forgive; Noble Igwe. I am saying it publicly, I will never forgive him until he apologises to my wife, because during the elections, he made a post and he put my wife’s name and somebody under the comment called my wife an ‘osu.’ It means an outcast. “So if Noble Igwe is listening or watching this podcast, our path has not crossed since then. The day our path crosses, I will beat Noble Igwe to the extent that the world would ask what he did wrong. “That’s where I draw the line. You can offend me, however, you want but the moment you involve my family; my wife and children, you cross the line into hell. And I will leave heaven for that to sit with you in hell. So, Noble Igwe, know that I am sitting and waiting patiently for you in hell.” Read the full article

[lexlovesyoudotcom]

August 21st, 2023: Jeremy Hecklinski is my trophy wife.

I don’t love Jeremy Hecklinski. I don’t even think he’s attractive (most of the time, he’s really got the whole golden boy thing down and that draws me in), not like my sister’s do. I think he loves football too much (probably because as much as I talk about passion I’ve never loved anything enough to complete it). I’ve heard the grade thinks that he’s stupid because he reclassed. I don’t care, he’s going to Wake Forest to play football, I’d say it worked out. Daisy says he fucks anything that moves.

Ethan, Andrew, Zach, Alex- I can feel an obsession when it’s brewing. Ethan and I were friends, it was sweet. Andrew was just a boy, Zach is a loser, and Alex was only special because I made him that way. Jeremy won’t be any different. Yes, he will be. He won’t just be a fantasy. I don’t need him because he’s him. I need him to assert dominance and be talked about. I’ve seen him in the hallways. We’ve never spoken and I doubt he would recognize me, I’m forgettable like that.

I won’t be soon. My first real encounter with Jeremy Hecklinski is going to set the tone for how he sees me. What’s wrong with me? Why am I doing this? I need a prom date. I’m already going to be prom queen, but with him, I could go down in history.

[thelunanightly]

06/05/2023 - Onset

Hey, I'm not quite sure what compelled me to do this but I figured it might be worth a shot! I saw some comics on twitter earlier today of a man who would draw cartoons depicting how down he was when his wife was gone for a period of time, and I've been struggling a bit so I thought maybe airing all of my messy little feelings through some medium would emulate that. Maybe I'll show you these one day, or maybe I'll keep them here! It's been...really, really difficult without you here. Way, way more than I like to admit. In my opinion, silly or not, I want you to enjoy your internship and all the opportunities along with it as much as possible --- to me, that means sometimes not conveying the magnitude of which I miss you. I never want you to feel unloved or not missed, but I at the same time don't want it to be a burden or emotionally taxing to you. We're both busy people, and while we can definitely make time to be there for each other, I'm afraid it could become a codependent or otherwise emotionally taxing situation if I was given that access and became over-reliant.

But honestly I've been sick to my stomach missing you. As someone who has exclusively done long distance relationships prior, I gravely underestimated how much it would hit me being here without you. I think about you all the time, I cry probably the most often I have in a long while. I'm also just wondering what you're up to, if you're thinking about me. I've been kind of a mess! I think there's a lot of reasons to it. The largest part is just genuine love and the separation is just making me palpably aware of how lucky I was before and how comforting, pleasant, otherwise amazing those moments I do get to be with you in person are. It's weird realizing just the degree of closeness I feel with you already, I think I'd share just about anything with you if prompted, even stuff I'm typically pretty uncomfortable or reserved about within my closest circles. You were such an insanely calming presence the past few months, and it definitely leaves a bit of a hole! Some other parts are unfortunately not so romantic and cute. I think LDR may have reopened a lot of the insecurities, dependencies, and self-worth issues I had in previous relationships. I do get flashes of times of some paranoia induced from exes. It's no secret my past ex brought me to near suicide, not hyperbole. With her, every day was wildly unpredictable. She worked for 8 hours too everyday, and on good days she'd be instantly responsive and upbeat outside of that frame. But if she wasn't responding? If she was cold? It wasn't ever out of busy-ness. It was intentional and deliberate on her end so you knew she wasn't happy with you, didn't like you, and in the later stages was debating cutting you off entirely. I heard a lot of horrible things from her throughout those final months. The only instance we tried nsfw stuff she basically laughed when she saw me. She would ask me if I would be okay with her cheating on me if it was a girl. She would say stuff like I'm lucky I'm funny, etc. She broke up with me (one of many times) when I shaved and sent a picture. BPD or otherwise, every single day with her felt like a test. A lot of days it felt like I had to be at my best --- funniest, best dressed, most understanding, etc. or she would drop me in an instant. Even when you were doing everything right, she would suddenly go silent on a call and tell you to leave. You never know what you were doing wrong or why, but you could always feel you weren't enough.

I thought with my brief therapy stint and some introspection I had overcome those hurdles, but I see a lot of the aftermath of that in the way I interact with you. Days where I feel like I didn't make you laugh as much or that I responded too much/too quickly I kinda beat myself up for. It leads me to sometimes not texting at all, or leaving shorter stuff. I get sick and afraid that if I just continually let out the gushy mushy "hey reminder im in love with you" type stuff youll get bored eventually. I don't know what it is with long distance, but I start seeing it all as a performance, not in that what I'm doing isn't genuine, but that if I'm not acting what my brain views as perfect, you'll suddenly/gradually become disinterested and leave. I'm also painfully aware its so much easier for someone to just break up over LDR too. These are insane irrationalities, and I by no means should be accomodated for it. In fact, you already do. You've repeatedly assured me that you're with me through thick and thin, and I should show more gratitude than I do. You are a genuinely kind, wonderful soul, I just get lost in my head. It's clearly a self-esteem issue, there must be some fear that one day you'll see me as boring or not so funny or not so cute and once again, you'll leave. It's why I get a bit of weird irrational jealousy too. Not in a controlling way, just in a gross feeling way. Hearing about how great Andrew is, or the Christian camping thing do make me feel weird. I sincerely don't believe you'd ever cheat, and so its not like a genuine concern. It's just this irrational fear that *someone* will come along who's better than me, and you'll realize. It's a terrible thing to say about myself,I know. I don't think you'd cheat, but I'm afraid you'll wake up and see me as I am, not as how you view me now

I'm not the gross monster I see myself as. Sometimes I feel ugly, awkward, lame, boring. Especially this week. I'm just not doing well I'm afraid. I know I'm not any of those things. I'm actually a pretty decent looking guy with a right haircut, I actually do talk to a lot of people and do a lot of things, I can be pretty funny. I just feel awful. I feel so boring and nothing and routine compared to the life you're getting, to the opportunities you have, to the new people who might be more talented, more cozy, funnier than me. and I'm so afraid of losing you. I really really love you and I can see a future and I don't want to jeopardize that. ah it actually does hurt thinking about it. I think that's why I've felt so sick and gross and weird. My brain has conjured up a million ways I might lose you, a million ways I might not be enough and I'm so fucking afraid one of them will come true. Am I destined to make them come true by constantly viewing it throug hthat? how fucked that would be. self sabotage at its finest. god fucking damn it

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa im sobbing. you cant see this no one should see this aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa nothing but bad thoughts right now. the classic insecure dependent bullshit. im not good enough for you, you deserve better type hsit. not true. im actually a pretty kickass boyfriend and someone as great s you deserves the energy im willing to put in

I think I just need to find my center again. I need to recognize I am valuable, I have worth. Even on days where I'm not perfect, even on days where I'm not funny, even on days I don't look all that great. I have a habit of tying my self-worth to things like productivity, to other people. Bad ideas and I know it and have been trying to work against doing so, but I get caught up still sometimes.

The fact is I've been born on watching standup, I have hours of random niche info dumps, enjoy everything from gayming to rock climbing, actively aim to get more fit, am a talented writer, always willing to give advice and emotional support. I'm a wonderful guy, and no bad print day or occasional fail joke takes that away from me. No one's comments about me, no matter how close they were to me prior take that away either. I wanna work on independence. Emotional independence is a big one - not being quite as needy, not being quite as gross and weird-feeling when you talk about how nice someone is, or plans you have. There's a decent chance you feel some of this too! My only like regular friend rn is claire, so I would get if you felt weird by just how often I bring her up, though just like it is for you its completely normal friend stuff for me.

I think if i focus on some of my own goals I outlined for myself, it will help us all. It will make me a better person (net positive for us both) it will give me some accomplishment (self esteem positive) it will keep me interesting (relationship positive) and it will make time pass faster (see eachother sooner positive)

Days do kinda grind forever. But I'm not doing a ton outside of work so no wonder! Of course I'm going to be lonely and sad if I just lay in bed the moment I'm out of work. I need to do more stuff, live more!!

I know this is a very scary post to be shown so hopefully I don't LMAO but know this is also just a snapshot. There are plenty of days, hours, moments I feel completely fine. I've just this week really been hit with the self esteem stuff. Maybe it finally sunk in that you're gone gone for a while! I wanna end this all on a sentiment that is kinda nihilist, but in a good way. Cole and I have this belief that we both need to focus more on experiences now rather than future or past stuff - pretty common universal truth, but we want to consciously make an effort to be more present and do so in present. A way I like to frame these bouts of insecurity is with the following idea: In a nightmare world where you and I broke up, I would still be immensely grateful for everything. You've imparted so much emotional wisdom, gave me so many milestone experiences, truly made me feel loved and cared about. You are one of the best people I ever met and that opinion will not change. No matter any gossip you are a warm, loving person who just wants to understand others and enjoy their company. I can be an introverted shell, and I think there's a much darker alligator world where I never met you and stayed silent and awkward forever. You push me in a lot of good ways, and I think those impacts will be with me for the rest of my life. I can only hope to have positively affected you a quarter of what you've done for me.

I consider all these weird feelings the first true "obstacle" in the relationship. I love you, and I want desperately to make this work. As naive and romantic as it is, I genuinely believe that we are compatible enough that we could WAYYY down the line form an actual life together. I could see you being the proverbial one. Knowing this, I will overcome these hurdles. I will become more confident and secure and less moody and emotional. On two fronts. One, myself - if I can't love myself I can't love others and so much of my joy in life comes from loving and helping others. Two, for you - if working through my emotional weaknesses to become a stronger, more independent person strengthens our relationship, how could I ever simply lay down, let the bad feelings hit me, and die? I will fight my inhibitions.

if you do end up reading this one day, boy secret: after a big, hearty cry where you really ugly let out all emotions, there is a compelling desire to jerk off. It's like the self-love equivalent of makeup sex LMAO. toodles!

[dxctorstephenstrange]

Back To Life, Back to Reality (RP w/ @punchyourwayout)

THE NEW YORK SANCTUM NOVBEMBER 22, 2023

"I can't help you, even if I wanted to.  It's not possible."

Stephen Strange folded his arms in front of his chest, his body language reflecting the defiance in his voice.  The request being made by the man before him was absurd and irrational, and he couldn't possibly entertain it.

Clint Barton sighed angrily and began to pace the width of the Sanctum's Grand Entrance.  Strange had barely been able to say hello before Barton strode inside and started his pitch: cross dimensional barriers and find a way to get Natasha Romanoff back.

"You're a freaking WIZARD, man!"

"Sorcerer, actually."

"Oh, what-the-hell-ever!  Point is, you can do all this magic shit, right?  That Parker kid told me you were able to look into millions of futures to see which version we won against Thanos.  Why can't you use that power to go back and, I don't know, find another way for her to survive?"

"That power came from the Time Stone, which Steve Rogers took back into the past along with the other Stones, remember?  And the future in which we defeated Thanos couldn't have happened without Natasha and Tony giving their lives.  Clint, I know you miss her...but as you told us, she made her choice freely, and you know it couldn't be undone."

"It was supposed to be ME, goddammit!"  Barton growled back, his voice cracking as tears welled in his eyes.  He stumbled over his own feet, and Strange moved quickly to get the both of them in chairs, noticing a familiar scent on the man's breath and clothes.

"I think you've had a few too many tonight, Clint."

"I-I don't usually...I...today was her birthday.  I was the only one she ever told the date for it.  I went to a place we used to go after the ops we were assigned to, and one shot became two, then three...four...you get the idea."

"I see."  Clint's demeanor and the motivations for his anguished plea were now more explainable.

"It was supposed to be me, Doc.  I made the call.  I was ready for it.  I knew it was the right thing to do."

"You have a family, Clint.  Why would you want to leave them behind?"

"I didn't even fucking know if any of it would work, but if it did...then, I would've gone out doing something right, doing one last good deed for their sake."

"And they'd return to a life without you."

"You don't get it, Doc."

"No, I guess I don't," Strange admitted, shaking his head as he sat back in the chair.

Clint took a deep, shaky breath, wiped his face with his hands, and leaned forward.  "I'm...I'm going deaf, Doc."

Strange's eyes moved back to Clint and widened a bit with shock.  "I'm...I'm sorry."

"A sonic arrow; used those damn things over hundreds of missions, and never thought twice about 'em.  Then, one fucking arrow malfunctions and goes off right next to my head before I fire it.  Permanent damage and progressive hearing loss, I was told...but I ignored it, like a goddamn moron.  Didn't know how to break it to my wife and kids, or the other Avengers.  I wasn't ready to be put out to pasture...but it's getting worse, and now I have no choice, and they'll know that I knew all along."

"There are remarkable new medical breakthroughs and technology that could help you-"  Stephen began to explain, wanting to offer some hope to a man believing he was past his prime.

"Look, there's more to it than that.  You don't know the whole story, and that's not even why I'm here, alright?"  Clint hand-waved the detour to their discussion aside as the tears began to reappear in his eyes.  "I just...miss her.  I could tell her anything and...she understood, like I understood her.  I need to see her.  Please...at least once more.  Can't you do that, at least?  Can't you give me that, if nothing else?"

Strange sighed deeply.  Everything about the idea was wrong.  Even if he had the Time Stone to use as a means to go back to Vormir at the time of Natasha's sacrifice, his mere presence would cause a deviation in the timeline so drastic it could create an entirely new timeline and universe.  It was a step too far...but maybe, there was something he could do for the grieving Hawkeye that would provide him with much-needed closure.

"Let me see what I can do, Clint.  I can't and won't promise you anything...but I'll try."

Clint choked back a happily surprised sob, relieved that there was at least a chance that he could say one last goodbye to his best friend.  "Thanks, Doc.  Truly...thank you."

"Don't thank me yet.  Just go home to your family.  Here...I'll call you a ride."

Strange stood, slipped on his Sling Ring, and drew open a portal that led to the Barton farm.

"Holy shit...that's wild," Barton said in awe.  "Thank you for this...for listening to me, even if you don't want me to say it."

"Good night, Clint," Strange said before drawing the portal forward to send Barton home.

LATER...

Stephen went over the plan in his mind, believing he'd found a way to allow Clint the closure he needed with Natasha without disturbing realities or the timeline.  First, however, he'd seek out Natasha on his own to make sure that she'd want Clint to see her one last time.

Taking a seat cross-legged in front of the large round window bearing the symbol of the New York Sanctum, he took a few deep breaths and raised his arms, touching thumbs to ring fingers.  Soon his breathing slowed to a near-imperceptible pace, and his astral self parted from his physical body.  He took a look back at his body before rising into the air, through the ceiling of the Sanctum, far into the sky, beyond the planet itself and across space to the center of celestial existence, where Natasha Romanoff sacrificed her life...

VORMIR

Strange descended from the storm-ridden crimson skies to the clearing below the cliff, where Natasha would have landed.  From there, he ascended to a path that led up to the cliff from which Natasha would’ve jumped.

"Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange, son of Eugene and Beverly, brother of Victor and Donna."

Stephen, alarmed at the voice that seemed so familiar with him, turned to see a hooded figure approaching.  It reached up and pulled back its hood to reveal a red, skull-like face.

"Do I know you?"  Strange asked.

"No, but you are known to all who dwell within the Multiverse...and beyond:  the Master of Time;  the Man of a Million Deaths..."

Strange waved his hand around impatiently.  "Yeah, sure, great; I'm looking for someone."

"Korrectur, Doktor.  You seek the soul of one sacrificed for the sake of many.  She is here; free and yet imprisoned."

"What do you mean?"

"She gave her life of her own free will; a gift of love.  She is free from the bonds of this world, and yet she remains."  The red-skulled guardian gestured to a rock near the edge of the cliff, and the astral form of the red-haired woman who sat upon it, facing away from him.

Stephen floated towards the rock and hovered a few feet away.

"Natasha Romanoff," he greeted.  "I'm Doctor Stephen Strange.  I’ve come here on behalf of your friend, Clint Barton.”

@punchyourwayout​

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

Don’t you remember?

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place long after Bloodbound 3. In this scenario, MC was Turned only after giving birth to their daughter.

Summary: Thirty years after meeting Annie for the first time, now Kamilah is married and has a daughter who is about to get married as well. While preparing the wedding, they decide to remember Lysia’s childhood stories.

Warnings: just fluff.

Part 1 Part 3

Don’t you remember? - Part 2

January 8th, 2049

           They decided to have lunch at Annie’s favourite Italian restaurant. It was right around the corner, and Kamilah was definitely in the mood for some good wine. She asked for their best bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, watching as her wife smiled across the table. So many years ago, they sat at a different restaurant and shared their first bottle of wine. Ever since, Kamilah kept asking for the same type, even though it wasn’t her favourite. It had good memories attached to it.

           “Bring five glasses, please. And make it two bottles. We’re expecting more company.” Annie smiled at their confuse expressions. “I texted Adrian and Lily, they’re coming for lunch too.”

           “Aunt Lily is back already? The wedding is not until two weeks.” Lysia crossed her legs, a proud and perfect posture, just like Kamilah.

           Annie, on the other hand, looked like a child playing with the fork and the empty plate. “She’s your godmother, it’s her duty to help us organizing it. Annnnnnnnnd Lil loves planning parties. We stayed up all night putting together the perfect playlist.”

           “Should I be afraid?” Lysia sighed, already imagining what kind of songs they chose.

           “Nah, I promise we behaved.” She winked at her daughter, watching the waiter bring their wine almost at the same time Adrian and Lily walked in. “Perfect timing, you two.”

           “Lucky us for being just down the street. Hi, sweetie.” Adrian gave Lysia a tight hug, sitting right beside her, while Lily placed loud kisses on both girl’s cheeks before going to Annie’s side.

           Kamilah was the first to lift her glass, already used to her wife’s love for toasts.

           “To the best person ever born in this planet!” said Annie, followed by ‘cheers’ from the rest of the group.

           After a sip of wine, the Egyptian gently placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, I believe we promised your mother we would tell baby stories now.”

           “Yes, you did promise me that!!!”

           “Oooh yeah, let’s do it!! My favourite is when I accidentally forgot a chocolate bar on the table, and she ate it all.” Lily chuckled, ignoring the dangerous glare from Kamilah. “Girl, you were a happy kid that day. But I almost got killed because of it.”

           “There was also that time we took you to Disney, and none of these two party pooper over here wanted to let you ride the roller coaster.” Annie pointed at her wife and Adrian with her half empty glass. “Not until you cried so much, they decided to accompany you there. Remember that?”

           “Yes, I would give anything to see it again. Everybody laughing, breathless, messy hair, wrinkled clothes, heart raced, and you two looked like nothing had happened.” Lysia shook her head in disbelief.

           Kamilah smiled proudly. “It takes way more than a kid’s playground to put me breathless.”

           “Yeah. It takes me.” Annie bit her lip, quickly finding her wife’s leg under the table. That only made Lysia sigh at her shameless mother.

“What about you, Uncle Adrian? Do you have a favourite memory?”

           “I do.” His smile was soft as he took one of the girl’s hands. “You were just three years old. The first time you said my name. Don’t you remember, Annie? Tell us.”

           “Hum, I think I do… It was during the spring…”

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------

May 22nd, 2023

           Kamilah was late. Not a surprise there.

           Annie got so used to it. Every time they had a night out planned, a sudden phone call or an urgent email would pop up and delay things. That’s why she started to set their dates a couple hours earlier than usual. Now, her wife was an hour late, but it wasn’t even 6pm yet, so there was still plenty of time to finish combing her hair while mumbling alone. “I swear, one of these days I’ll call her assistant and book a fake business meeting. This way, she will be on time.”

           “You actually did it.” Kamilah pinched her nose, interrupting the story.

           “Really, mom?”

           “Yeah. I booked a meeting under the name of Jaden Marshall. You should’ve seen her face when she realized what happened … Anyway, focus.”

           “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa” screamed Lysia, giggling as trying to run towards the door. Annie already knew what that meant.

           “Hi, Adrian!”

           “Evening, Ann! And hi to you, baby.” He took the girl into his arms and lifted her above his head. Those baby laughs filled the house, echoing through the hallway from where Annie appeared. “Am I late?”

           “No, you’re early. Kamilah is still on the phone.”

           Lysia, who now was well nested on her godfather’s arms, looked back at her mother with those huge dark eyes. “Mommy late.”

           “I know, sweetie. Your mother is always late.” Annie kissed the tip of her nose. “You better behave, okay? And Adrian, please, don’t spoil my baby too much. Between you doing everything she wants and Kamilah wanting her to be totally independent, I’ll go crazy over here.”

           “I won’t make such a promise.” His gaze lingered on Lysia’s face for a moment as slowly walking to sit on the couch. “How can I say no to those eyes?”

           “Ask Kamilah, she does that all the time. Last week, I caught her watching Lysia fall when she was trying to get on top of the bed, and refused to help because, and I quote, ‘mortals need to develop their skills from an early age’.”

           “Talking about me again? Save it for the date tonight, my love.” The Vampire Queen emerged from the stairs, a tone of irony on her voice. She had put an astonishing tight white dress. “Thank you for being here, Adrian.”

           “Not a problem. Take your time tonight. We’ll be fine.”

           Kamilah smiled fondly at them, gently leaning in to kiss her wife, but they were interrupted by Lysia’s voice. The girl had crawled out of Adrian’s lap to energetically point at her mothers.

           “Mommy Kami” she giggled, then shifted to point at Annie. “And silly mommy Anna”.

           “You taught her that, didn’t you?” the Brazilian narrowed her eyes to Kamilah.

           “I have no idea what you’re talking about. She added the ‘silly’ on her own.”

           “Lyshia” the girl pointed at herself while sticking her tongue out, not being able to pronounce her name correctly yet. Then, she turned around, running back to Adrian’s lap. Her small hands went to cup his face, putting their foreheads together. “Andi you, my baby. You are my baby Adian.”

           Kamilah arched her eyebrows, confused. “No, sweetie. You’re the baby. That’s how we call you.”

           But Adrian didn’t listen. He had tears on his eyes, arms holding the girl even closer. “You are the most precious thing in this world. How is Kamilah even able to say no to you?”

           “Easy. Look. Lysia, no.”  

           Annie shook her head. “You’re unbelievable. Let’s go. It’s time.”

           As they were leaving the apartment, even from the elevator, it was possible to hear Lysia giggling happily in there. That sound was so perfect, it would always make Annie’s heart melt inside her chest. She smiled when felt her wife’s arms involving her by the waist, bringing them closer to another kiss.

           “Darling… Do you think something is wrong with Adrian? He has been crying a lot lately.” Kamilah sighed, concerned.

           “No, you shouldn’t worry. He’s just healing.”

           “Healing?”

           “His heart. After those deep wounds, losing a wife and a child, Lysia is helping him heal. Sometimes, babies do that with us. It’s their superpower.”

           “I see…” Kamilah’s expression became serious for a moment. They were already in the parking lot, so she trapped her wife against the car’s door. “If that’s true… Why don’t we make another one of those?”

           Annie gasped. Cofed. Then laughed. “Not that fast, Mrs. Sayeed. If you want another, don’t look at me. Pushing one out was hard enough.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

January 8th, 2049

           “WAIT!” Lily held her hands high to stop Annie’s story. “Kamilah wanted another child? How come I never knew about it?”            

           “Because she changed her mind one month after that, when Lysia went inside her office and draw all over her papers. Besides…” her gaze lingered on Kamilah’s face for a moment, considering carefully what to say. “She wanted me to get pregnant again just to delay things. You were worried about me being Turned, weren’t you?”

           “I was just afraid you could regret it. What if a year later you wanted another baby? I needed to be sure you had considered all the alternatives.” The Egyptian leaned to hold her wife’s hands across the table. “I would never forgive myself for taking away your chances of experiencing what I couldn’t.”

           “You didn’t take away anything. I was sure. Still am.” She intertwined their fingers, both sharing a soft smile.

           Next to them, there was Lily trying to steal a picture with her cell phone. “Perfect. This will go to the slideshow for the wedding.”

           “Wait, what slideshow? Oh, for god’s sake, what are you two up to?” Lysia finished her wine in a gulp. “If I see a naked baby picture there…”

           “You won’t.” reassured Lily.

           “…or you will.” completed Annie, dramatically wiggling her eyebrows. “Sorry, kiddo. That’s the family you got.”

           The weirdest and most perfect family it could exist, in Lysia’s opinion.

[hogwarts-and-mistletoe]

The Other Yule Ball

Title: The Other Yule Ball

Rating: Mature/NC-17

Category: Yule Ball (obviously, though it’s not the one in 4th year)

Summary: Ron and Hermione attend a charity Yule Ball twenty-five years after the original Yule Ball where everything went wrong. This time both of them end up getting what they want.

A/N: I know the fics are published anonymously but still wanted to add a tiny note. Basically, this is the first fic I’ve written in maybe six(?) years, so apologies if the writing is incredibly rusty. I hope you’re, nevertheless, able to enjoy the Christmassy theme and everyone’s favourite couple.

16th of December 2023

“You reckon Rose and Hugo will be embarrassed to have to deal with their Mum and Dad showing up at their school dance?” Ron asked his wife while absentmindedly adjusting his dark navy coloured dress robes in front of the bedroom mirror.

“Oh, I doubt it,” Hermione laughed while her hair neatly arranged itself in a low bun at the back of her neck at the flick of a wand. “I’m sure they’ll be quite happy to see us as long as you keep off the dance floor.” She stepped forward to adjust her husband’s tie.

“You know, ‘Mione, I’m actually quite excited to go,” Ron smirked, “kind of makes me feel like I’m getting a second chance at this whole Yule Ball thing with you.” He wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist, as she turned towards the mirror to adjust loose strands of hair around her neck. “Perhaps, I’ll even get a cheeky snog out of you this time unless old habits take place and I end up behaving like a jealous git again.”

Hermione spun around in Ron’s arms to face him with a devious look in her eyes. “I doubt Krum is coming so your chances of a snog are rather high,” she placed her hands on Ron’s cheeks, feeling the prickly stubble under her fingers, “we do, however, really need to get on our way to catch the ministry portkey or Rose will probably deduct house points off us for turning up late.”

***

After hurriedly apparating to the ministry and using an old red umbrella as a portkey, Ron and Hermione found themselves at the front gates of Hogwarts. Hermione, having returned to the castle to complete her education had eventually gotten used to the school and its grounds again following the horrors of the battle but Ron’s visits to the school following its restoration after the battle had been limited to hurried visits through various of the seven hidden passageways and a few nights in the Prefect’s Bathroom.

Now, twenty-five years later, he was returning to the castle as an honorary Order of Merlin First Class invitee alongside his wife and best friend. As the years had passed, he had grown increasingly tired of attending one charity event after another. It was not as if he did not care or believe them to be important, he just felt that the best way for him to remember Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Dobby and everyone else was by spending time with his loved ones in the comfort of his cosy home, or at work with the Auror department ensuring similar terrors could never take place again. However, he had to admit to himself that tonight he was excited – he always really missed his children during term and it had been a while since him and Hermione had had a night off work together that included something other than them just falling asleep in each other’s arms on the sofa.

As Ron walked towards the Great Hall his mind kept wandering back to the last time he had attended a ball in the very same room. The magical ceiling was glistening in a similar way and enchanted instruments on either side of the room were playing cheery winter tunes. If only he could’ve travelled back in time and smacked his 14-year-old self on the head and forced him to make a move on Hermione and ask her to the ball, many things during their year on the run could have perhaps been so much easier. But as he walked a few steps behind his beloved wife, who had just spotted Harry and Ginny chatting with Neville and Hannah Longbottom, he was overcome with the familiar warm feeling that even if their path to each other had not been the most straightforward one, they had gotten there in the end and that was all that mattered. As a content smile crept upon his lips, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice not so different from his own.

“Oi! Knew you and Mum would be here at the last minute. Had trouble tying your tie? Or got too distracted while getting dressed? Actually, don’t answer that last question I really don’t want to know,” 15-year-old Hugo laughed and hugged his father.

“Watch your words young man, I’ve heard you’ve got a date of your own for tonight. Would be a shame if any embarrassing stories came up within her earshot,” Ron said and ruffled Hugo’s hair.

Rose, Albus and Lily also appeared from the crowd, and once Hermione had hugged both of her children, and Ginny and Harry had greeted Albus and Lily, the group headed to find their assigned seats. As they walked through the hall, towards one of the round tables in the front corner, Harry picked up glasses of bubbling champagne off a tray floating nearby and handed them to his friends.

***

Eventually, the quartet had seated themselves and the chatter bubbling around the room settled down as Kingsley Shacklebolt made his way towards the front of the hall dark purple robes whooshing in the air following his steps. As the Minister reached the enchanted microphone the hall fell silent in anticipation.

“Welcome, everyone. As I’m sure all of you know, this year marks the quarter century jubilee of the Battle of Hogwarts during which Lord Voldemort was defeated thus marking the end of the Second Wizarding War.” Kingsley eyed the quiet room. “Despite all the grieving and ache faced by too many families, it brings me the greatest joy to see everyone gathered in this room tonight. The Ministry, alongside the educational board of Hogwarts, felt that a celebration was in order, to pay special remembrance to those we lost, and to appreciate those around us who fought valiantly for our community to get it where we stand today.”

“The generation now studying within the walls of this castle, has been fortunate to grow up in a safe and tolerant wizarding society. However, we must never forget the price paid and the sacrifices made to achieve this status quo. Through hours of relentless work by our Aurors in the field as well as the numerous officials at Ministry headquarters, we have established a wizarding community that not only takes pride in its inclusiveness, but seeks to teach this moral right here at Hogwarts to ensure a peaceful future to all witches and wizards, regardless of their family background.” Kingsley waved his wand and his champagne flute glided smoothly across the air into his hand. “Therefore, I invite all of you, to raise a toast with me to everyone who has helped shape our future into where it stands today, and to each and every student, present and future, who will wander through the corridors of this castle and contribute to guaranteeing many more generations of peace.”

The end of Kingsley’s speech was marked by a stern nod and followed by the bright, glistening sound of hundreds of glasses clinking together. Then, with a swift wave of the Minister’s wand the enchanted instruments picked up a cheerful song and every plate within the hall was filled with a mountain of delicious food.

“Well, I’ll drink to our children being safer than us in this castle any day,” Ron said and emptied his champagne flute in one go.

“You’d better pace yourself,” Ginny smirked from across the table, “doubt your and Harry’s tolerance is at the same level it used to be at twenty years ago when a Firewhiskey bottle was a staple decoration on the drawing room table at Grimmauld’s place.”

“Or maybe,” Ron turned towards Hermione and whispered into her ear, “I’m in need of a bit of liquid encouragement to actually ask you to dance with me.”

Ron placed his hand on her thigh underneath the table as Hermione challenged him.

“Can’t remember heaps of encouragement being necessary the other night while we danced in the living room.” She saw the slightest of blushes creep up her husband’s cheeks, for which she highly doubted the alcohol now circling his veins was solely responsible for.

“So I heard Hugo has a date?” Ginny suddenly asked Hermione allowing her to pretend to ignore her husband’s hand creeping slightly higher along her thigh.

“Oh yes, he told us he was going with one of Lily’s friends. He seemed quite nervous in the letter he sent to us last week,” Hermione smiled at Ginny as they eyed the group of the fifth year Gryffindors to see what their younger children were up to.

“Well, I’m just glad to be at a Yule Ball where the two of you,” Harry piped in and gestured towards Ron and Hermione, “are actually talking to each other. Really would not have fancied another evening of silent treatment and moping on either of your parts,” he continued making both Ginny and Hermione laugh.

“Well, best friend, I’ll have you know my wife and I are both planning to behave just swimmingly tonight,” Ron said in a mock-serious manner to Harry, followed by a collective chuckle among the group.

***

After three delicious courses of dinner and a few shots of Firewhiskey had by Ron and Harry (Hermione and Ginny had forbidden them from sharing the drinks with Hugo and Albus who had eagerly approached the table in hopes of sneaking off with something stronger than Butterbeer), everyone was in good spirits. The dancefloor at the centre of the room had been getting more crowded as the night went on. The band of unmanned instruments at the side of the room was now playing a steady waltz and small enchanted snowflakes were steadily falling from the ceiling of the Great Hall. Ginny and Harry had been among the first guests to enter the dancefloor, but Ron and Hermione were still sitting at the table, attempting to unnoticeably keep an eye on a flustered Hugo who was dancing with his date. Rose and her friends, on the other hand, had disappeared to Gryffindor tower a while back smuggling what looked like quite a few bottles of mulled Christmas wine with them.  

“Boy that daughter of ours is smart,” Ron muttered to Hermione, “reckon if Harry and I had just grabbed a drink and disappeared all those years ago with the lads we could’ve avoided that massive argument.”

“Or, you could have just asked me to the ball with you, we could have had a nice swirl on the dance floor and everything would have been fine. On the other hand, I highly doubt Harry’s diplomacy skills would be half as good as they are today if it hadn’t been for all of our arguing,” Hermione said with a snicker.

“Well, not everyone can have the social skills of our son there,” Ron nodded in the direction of Hugo who was, rather impressively, waltzing with his date, “but I do think I’ll probably need to sneak a dance out of you at some point tonight, so we might as well get on the dancefloor before George and Harry convince me to join them at the bar for another round of Firewhiskey. Can’t guarantee I won’t be stepping on your toes if I have more to drink,” Ron said while standing up confidently, pulling Hermione up with himself and towards the dancefloor.

As the gentle notes of the music twinkled in the air, Hermione and Ron swayed on the dancefloor their steps circling in a soft, waltz-like manner. The confidence gained by both of them over the years, in addition to the familiarity of being close to each other, meant the actual act of dancing required little focus.

As Ron’s palm on the small of Hermione’s back pulled her closer, she shifted her hand from her husband’s strong shoulder to fidget with the soft fabric at the collar of his dress shirt.  The air between their bodies seemed to be getting increasingly more static as the dance went on. Hermione could feel Ron’s warm breath on her cheek and when looking up, she was pleasantly unsurprised to find her gaze met by an accustomed longing in Ron’s blue eyes. With the notes of the waltz beginning to subtly fade, Ron leaned down towards his wife.

"I think one song was enough dancing for tonight,” he attempted to say nonchalantly but ended up catching his breath mid-sentence. “Fancy a bit of fresh air? I think the hall is a bit -”

“ – crowded? Couldn’t agree more.” Hermione blurted and nodded towards the doors.

***

Ron was suddenly very glad of every forbidden night-time-wander around the castle, knowing exactly which direction to head in. He could hear his own blood rushing in his ears and pooling in other parts of his body and by the hastiness in Hermione’s steps alongside him, he knew she was feeling the same way. Eventually, they reached the end of a corridor finding a simple wooden door with a heavy but unlocked pewter latch. After a quick peek behind them, the couple hurriedly stepped into the storage closet.

As soon as Ron closed the door, Hermione’s fingers rushed to intertwine with strands of his hair and pulled him down to a deep kiss. Feeling Hermione bite down on his bottom lip, Ron’s arms snaked around her waist, eagerly lifting her up onto the almost-too-conveniently-for-it-to-be-a-coincidence placed shelf, hiking up the hem of Hermione’s dress in the process.

“God, as much as I loved dancing with you it was really a struggle to keep my hands somewhere appropriate for the public eye. Had forgotten dancing with you gets me all hot and bothered,” Ron breathed placing kisses down Hermione’s neck in the process.

“Mmm,” Hermione hummed kissing her husband’s stubbly chin, “I personally was struggling to keep my thoughts away from how during the ball years ago all I hoped for was a snog in a broom closet with my ginger best friend, no matter how hideous his dress robes –”

“Better not mock the dress robes, might just ditch you here and now,” Ron laughed, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down Hermione’s spine. “Not that I have even a fraction of the self-control necessary for that,” he continued with his voice quivering as Hermione’s hands traced down his torso, unbuttoning the silvery buttons on his dress shirt.

With his desire developing within him, Ron made a conscious attempt to stay focused as his hands entangled themselves from Hermione’s hair and traced their way to the back of her neck. After eagerly unzipping the fabric of Hermione’s silky dress, Ron pulled the top half of the smooth fabric down to expose a red lace bra, which he knew to be part of a set with matching knickers.

“Cheeky witch, you planned this, didn’t you?” he chuckled his hot breath lingering in the air for the slightest moment before being captured by Hermione’s lips. Their kisses grew increasingly desperate and Hermione leaned against the wall as Ron’s mouth worked its way skilfully down her chest and then up her neck towards her ear, where he played with her earlobe between his teeth making her feel dizzy.

Hermione’s hands found the waistband of Ron’s trousers under the robes and with swift, rehearsed movements she unbuckled his belt, the sound of metal sharp in the dim air of the storage closet. As Hermione slid her hand downward and picked up a steady pace around Ron’s hardened erection, he placed his hand on her thigh, as an attempt to balance himself.  Ron leaned his forehead against Hermione’s, his lips only barely not touching hers, as his hand found its way to the centre between Hermione’s widened legs pushing aside the delicate lacy fabric. Tentatively, he dipped two fingers inside her warmth, gaining an appreciative sigh in response.

“Really not the time for teasing,” Hermione groaned, pushing herself down onto Ron’s palm, only to find her pining met by a smug smirk on her favourite ginger’s face.

“Oh is it not, now? Are you saying this is what you’ve had on your mind for the whole evening then? Just been thinking of me fucking you in a storage closet? You really should voice these thoughts more often, you know,” Ron replied struggling to keep huskiness out of his voice with Hermione’s fingers altering between gentle caresses and firm strokes along his cock.  

“N-not just this –”, Hermione whimpered as Ron’s skilled fingers picked up their pace and he leaned in to nibble on the sensitive skin around her collarbones, “– need you, closer,” she pleaded sparing the tiniest of thoughts towards whether the closet they were in was soundproof.

Reaching down towards Ron’s length once more, delicately playing around with her fingers, she watched his eyes turn darker with lust. Within moments she found his large hand drawing her towards the edge of the shelf as he positioned himself, teasing her folds with his tip for an excruciatingly long second, before sinking deep into her. Any anxieties regarding the door of the closet being locked, or whether anyone would be able to hear them were long gone from Hermione’s mind as she groaned at the feeling of Ron filling her.

“Not even sure I remembered to tell you how fucking beautiful you looked tonight”, Ron muttered amidst trying to catch his breath while the shelf Hermione was positioned on slammed rhythmically against the wall. “I mean, fuck, you always do but, fuck, did I want to unzip that dress off you before we were even out of the house tonight.”

Ron picked up his pace and slid his hand down to rub Hermione’s clit, resulting in her nails pressing down on the skin on his back, reminding him of the days of being extra cautious in the changing rooms at the Auror Academy if he did not want everyone to see the marks his girlfriend often left on his pale skin amidst their desires.

It did not take long for the rhythm of Ron’s thrusts to become uneven and Hermione slid her hand to the back of his neck, grasping strands of his hair between her fingers in the process.

“Fuck, Ron, it’s too much”, Hermione choked right before her legs tensed around his waist and her centre dissolved into warm pleasure. As she pulled Ron’s lips down for a heated kiss and nibbled on his lip, his moans became increasingly louder and an assortment of profanities rolled off his lips into Hermione’s mouth as his knees buckled ever so slightly at his release.

“God, I love you,” Hermione whispered gently while placing soft kisses on her husband’s sweaty forehead as the pair remained intertwined.

“Love you too,” Ron mumbled, steadying himself and standing up to catch his breath.

After a few waves of wands to clean up, some moments of gentle kisses and Ron eventually managing to convince Hermione that her hair looked acceptably unmessy (“I swear, ‘Mione, if it looked like it normally does post-shag I would tell you! It looks fine, no one will know where we’ve been”), Ron peeked out of the door to check that the corridor was empty.

***

“If only I had actually bothered with Divination at school and been able to see what just happened, perhaps I would have been a lot more convinced of the subject’s credibility”, Ron sniggered, closing the storage closet door behind Hermione and himself. As the couple turned around the corner they were momentarily shocked to bump into Hugo, who looked to be in a hurry.

“Where on earth are you on your way to?” Hermione quizzed him, making a mental note of the fact that Hugo was alone and did not seem to be on his way to the very same closet his parents had just vacated.

“Ehmm, the loo?”, Hugo said his answer sounding more like a question as he eyed his parents with a confused look on his face.

“You sure you’re not just planning on sneaking into that storage closet at the end of the hall for a cheeky snog with your date?” Ron laughed deviously, glancing at Hermione who was attempting to inconspicuously check her dress was looking presentable.

“Storage closet? The only thing at the end of that hall, as far as I know, is a boy’s loo”, Hugo said pressingly and directed a judging glance at his parents. “I reaaally don’t want to know why the pair of you seem to be under the impression there’s a storage closet. On that note, I’m off. I’ll see you later.”

“Cheeky lad. The loo?”, Ron said grabbing Hermione by the waist as they headed down the corridor. “I’ll bet you five galleons that in a few seconds we’ll run into that girl he was attempting to charm with his well-rehearsed dance steps –” but his thought was interrupted when he noticed the expression on Hermione’s face.

“Actually, I don’t think he was lying”, she said a complacent grin creeping upon her still flushed cheeks, “but rather we’ve just established something no one was entirely sure of until today.”

“What’s that?” Ron asked looking increasingly perplexed while inattentively smoothing down the unruly hair at the back of his neck.

“Funny, isn’t it, how conveniently placed that shelf to the right of the door was? Perfect height for you to lift me on? Handy that no one else barged in despite us forgetting to lock the door and the castle being packed tonight?”, Hermione smirked. “It seems the Room of Requirement may not have been destroyed by the Fiendfyre all those years ago after all.”

[torentialtribute]

AB de Villiers on how he helped Eoin Morgan and England win World Cup 

It was November and England, the one-day captain Eoin Morgan, had just started a short period with Tshwane Spartans in South Africa & # 39; s Twenty20 competition.

Morgan, bit one of the franchise market signatures, stayed in a hotel, but decided that he wanted to spend a few nights at the home of Spartans teammate AB

The former South African captain welcomed Morgan to his house and the two of them spent a few nights in between the games, sipping on glasses of red wine. On one of the days the teammates went for what was meant as a relaxing game of golf.

<img id = "i-770222243646df33" src = "https://ift.tt/2lPLXBR -7254267-image-a-38_1563308894583.jpg "height =" 424 "width =" 634 "alt =" AB de Villiers played with England captain Eoin Morgan in Tshwane Spartans and borrowed advice "captain Eoin Morgan at Tshwane Spartans and loaned advice"

AB by Villiers played with England captain Eoin Morgan at Tshwane Spartans and loaned advice

Instead, Morgan communicated the entire round to the English selectors on the telephone who was to be selected for the upcoming World Championship. "He missed about eight holes, & De 39 Villiers tells Sportsmail. & # 39; He wasn't the best partner that day! & # 39;

It is no surprise that the captain who remained on the ground in his pursuit of global glory even prepared for his days off.

& # 39; We had talked a bit about captaincy and we did not know what to do. the pressure that comes with it, ”says De Villiers, whose incredible series of strokes has eased international cricket over the past 15 years.

& # 39; We have shared a few experiences and memories. It is reasonable to say that it took a bit of it!

<img id = "i-d13d23ff4256dab4" src = "https://ift.tt/2lPLY8T -39_1563308899084.jpg "height =" 438 "width =" 634 "alt =" The star of South Africa revealed that he and Morgan had a long conversation about different glasses of red wine "class =" blkBorder <img id = "i-d13d23ff4256dab4" src = "https://ift.tt/2lPLY8T -39_1563308899084.jpg "height =" 438 "width =" 634 "alt ="

Star of South Africa revealed that he and Morgan were a had had a long conversation about different glasses of red wine

Eight months later Morgan lifted the World Cup above his head. & # 39; I claim it is 100 percent & # 39 ;, De Villiers laughed. & # 39; I was the reason! & # 39;

While Morgan was at the heart of the action with Lord on Sunday night, De Villiers was on the couch in his front room back in South Africa.

He spent the day lazily on the remote control, flicking between the cricket and the final of Wimbledon, a big fan of Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic.

& # 39; When it arrived at the last few overs, I said to my wife: & # 39; This will be tight & # 39; . I didn't expect it to be that tight! The moment I realized that it would be a super over in a World Cup final, I almost collapsed!

& # 39; The word that occurred to me was destiny. It was just being England. Everything happened to win the World Cup, this is their time. It is actually a beautiful thing.

<img id = "i-f7d369fab0d0914a" src = "https://ift.tt/2lP7rid -40_1563308904527.jpg "height =" 453 "width =" 634 "alt =" The Villiers joked that this summer he claimed some honor to the English victory for the World Cup "

De Villiers joked that he this summer had the honor of winning the English victory at the World Cup "credit for the English World Cup

At the same time for De Villiers, the sight of England winning the World Cup by, Ian Smith & # 39; s sublime final-ball commentary, & # 39; the smallest of the margins & # 39; When Jos Buttler broke the stumps to give them victory over the scored boundaries, a few painful memories arose.

It brought the 35-year-old back to Auckland and the semi-final four years ago, South Africa, under his captaincy, two balls away from the last World Cup. d five points needed.

Grant Elliott, who had been dropped before, beat Dale Steyn in the stands and sent the Kiwis to the final. & # 39; I know the feeling when things just don't go your way, & # 39; he said. & # 39; It was terrible. Everything went wrong.

& # 39; We had chances to win the game 10 times and we have not taken one. I am sure that New Zealand is feeling that now. & # 39;

<img id = "i-85c579d228f18947" src = "https://ift.tt/2lPLYFV m-43_1563309041729.jpg "height =" 433 "width =" 634 "alt =" South Africa was knocked out by the semi-final of the New Zealand World Cup 2015 Grant Elliott "class =" blkBorder img-

South Africa was knocked out by the semifinals of the 2015 New Zealand World Cup Grant Elliott

He also recalled how the eight-year-old had watched South Africa defeat Pakistan in 1992, with Jonty Rhodes diving through the air to drive Inzamam-ul-Haq, before the broken hearts of the semi-final defeat by England.

Then he was back look at South Africa which is the halv The 1999 final lost to Australia when the match ended in a draw – and Allan Donald and Lance Klusener were empty and had to win, causing the Aussies to get through.

But for all that pain, those moments inspired him to make his own great World Cup moments. And that's what he, and everyone related to English cricket, hopes that Sunday's victory can contribute to the game in this country.

And why shouldn't it? After all, the competition was shown on terrestrial television and watched by eight million people.

That is another reason why De Villiers is here. Dressed in his pink Middlesex shirt, ready for the Vitality Blast launch on Thursday, he is ready to unveil a new artificial field in Deptford Park – one of more than 50 such facilities that open the capital as a result of a partnership between the ECB and the London Cricket Trust, the charity formed by Essex, Kent, Middlesex and Surrey.

& # 39; The great thing is that we don't have to do much & # 39 ;, said De Villiers. & # 39; The most important thing was the close game, played in a good spirit. That is enough inspiration for young people.

<img id = "i-a1345118e937d3e5" src = "https://ift.tt/2lNVWaL. jpg "height =" 461 "width =" 634 "alt =" Batsman De Villiers is ready to surprise crowds of vitality with Middlesex this summer "class =" blkBorder img-share "Batsman De Villiers is ready to handle the crowds wake up in the Vitality Blast with Middlesex this summer "

Batsman De Villiers is ready to sensitize crowds in the Vitality Blast with Middlesex this summer

This World Cup brought further disappointment to De Villiers when South Africa ended a humble seventh in the group table, proving defeats of Bangladesh and Pakistan [1] [2] [3] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [4] [5] Faf du Plessis the day before the team wa

& # 39; It was a very informal, quiet private conversation k between two friends who have known each other for almost 30 years, & # 39; he said. I was doing well at the time and I just wanted to say that if the boys needed me, great; if not, don't worry. They were two friends chatting with a beer. It should never have gone further than that. I don't know who leaked it – I wish I did! "

South Africa certainly missed a player with 25 ODI hundreds and an average of 53.50. But De Villiers believes there is enough talent in the team to come back strong in 2023, as England did after his dreary show in 2015.

And, who knows, the veteran may be a part of it, he hopes so. & I would like to be involved and play my role Ideally on the field for now, but you never know. & # 39;

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[hardynwa]

I will never forgive Noble Igwe for insulting my wife – Seyi Law

Nigerian comedian, Seyi Law has vowed never to forgive his colleague, Noble Igwe until he apologises to his wife. He said his grudge against Noble was because he mentioned his wife in a post during the 2023 electioneering campaign and someone commented under it, calling his wife an “outcast.” Seyi Law threatened to go physical on Noble whenever they met. Speaking in the latest episode of The Honest Bunch, the comedian said: “There is somebody in the entertainment industry that I will never forgive; Noble Igwe. I am saying it publicly, I will never forgive him until he apologises to my wife, because during the elections, he made a post and he put my wife’s name and somebody under the comment called my wife an ‘osu.’ It means an outcast. “So if Noble Igwe is listening or watching this podcast, our path has not crossed since then. The day our path crosses, I will beat Noble Igwe to the extent that the world would ask what he did wrong. “That’s where I draw the line. You can offend me, however, you want but the moment you involve my family; my wife and children, you cross the line into hell. And I will leave heaven for that to sit with you in hell. So, Noble Igwe, know that I am sitting and waiting patiently for you in hell.” Read the full article