end of the twist out

I Don't Have a Gay Son.

A few months ago, my oldest son, Charlie, came out to me as a homosexual.

He sat his mother and I down in the living room and confessed everything to us; about how he had always felt attraction towards men, for his entire life. He even told us that he had a boyfriend who he wanted to introduce us to. Justine and I had always had our suspicions about Charlie, but we were still shocked by our son’s revelation.

Suffice to say, Charlie is no longer a son of mine.

You see, every now and again, teenagers in our town get unnatural urges. We try to correct these impure desires early- teach kids right from wrong. If you don’t nip these thoughts in the bud while they’re still young, they’ll manifest as behaviour in adolescence. We pull offending children up and tell them, again and again, from morning worship to Sunday school.

“Your ungodly impulses are a choice” we lecture. “You can choose Heaven or you can choose Hell. Which will it be?” For many youth, the threat of damnation is enough to set them on the right path. But there are those who cling to their perversions, convincing themselves that their lifestyle choice is the correct one.

If only we had beat it out of them. Maybe that could have saved Charlie.

I’ll never understand what compels teens to commit such awful sin. Some say that it’s the media, corrupting the minds of the youth. Others think that it’s just the primal evil of humanity, inevitably seeping through. All I know for sure is that these teenagers go about defiling the Lord, and our town, remorselessly.

There are probably those out there who would call us intolerant. That’s fine by us. We believe that there are some transgressions that simply shouldn’t be tolerated, under any circumstances.

And we will never tolerate abduction, torture and murder.

No, I don’t have a gay son. I don’t have a gay son, because those twisted f*cking bastards killed him.

Movies Bloodborne fans should watch: (if you ask me :P)
  • Brotherhood of the Wolf (French movie about the Beast of Gévaudan. Bloodborne’s fashion is most likely inspired by its beautiful costumes.)
  • Bram Stoker’s Dracula (Cainhurst? Cainhurst. Cheesy at times.)
  • Crimson Peak (Gothic romance at its finest.)
  • Hellboy 1 / 2 - The Golden Army (Just watch the two movies, okay? SO GOOD.)
  • Van Helsing (yeah yeah, I know this one isn’t that great. WHO CARES! harmless fun with crazy weaponry and big monsters.)
  • Mary Reilly (the classic tale of Dr.Jekyll & Mr.Hyde seen from the point of view of Jekyll’s housemaid who, obviously, has a crush on him. )
  • From Hell (Jack the Ripper. Johnny Depp, Alan Moore, lots of drugs.)
  • The Whisperer in the Darkness (The best adaptation of Lovecraft’s story of the same name.)
  • Red Riding Hood (this movie gets all the hate just because it has the same director as Twilight but is a pretty decent movie with great atmosphere and a nice twist near the end. It’s not that easy to figure out who’s the wolf! My only complaint about this flick is that the actors are waaaay too attractive in pure young-adult romance fashion. Still worth a watch.)
  • Tenshi no Tamago (aka Angel’s Egg. Weird, visually stunning, very esoteric and reminds me a ton of Fishing Hamlet for some reason. The plot is cryptic and mysterious, just like Bloodborne’s.)
  • The Company of Wolves (a weird classic based upon Angela Carter’s dark fairytales ~♡)
  • Pride, Prejudice and Zombies (It’s better than you think.)
  • Goya’s Ghosts (SPANISH INQUISITION! Heresy! Torture! Drama! Doesn’t “look” like Bloodborne, but the themes are there and is overall a good historical movie with great actors.)
  • Penny Dreadful (TV series. This one is a mixed bag for me, but the photography is stunning and Victorian to the core. Rushed ending tho. And a lot of gratuitous sex scenes that don’t go anywhere. I warned you.)
  • Taboo (TV series. PRETTY NICE)
  • Solomon Kane (PURITAN DUDE KILLS STUFF)
  • Hellsing Ultimate (Anime OVA which needs no introduction.)
Some Pidge Headcanons

- Pidge is the kind of person who would rather try to find a free version of a program instead of actually paying for a program

    - Either that or she just makes her own program

         - Everyone would go to her so she could get them free stuff

- When she’s bored she just makes a fake profile on stuff like club penguin and neopets and just dick around with the system and trolls people

       - She’s been banned like 57 times on club penguin ALONE but she just works her way around the system

- Her interest in tech stemmed from wanting something on her computer but she can’t access it yet

        - “Dad, why can’t I find out what NASA is hiding from us?” “It all in their files, it’s confidential” “Oh really >:3c”

- Gaming becomes one of her favorite things, she was always interested in how it works

         - The main reason her sleep schedule is so messed up

- The relationship between her and Matt is like “I’m gonna call u an asshole and put pink hair dye in ur shampoo but I still love u with all my heart”

     - She’s definitely the kind of sister who comes in, leaves the door open and walks away

- Pranks are her thing, don’t mess w/ her

    - They’re always super elaborate and well-planned and she never gets caught

- She always secretly wanted shorter hair bc she didn’t want to deal with it

      - But people always used to say she looked like Matt so she didn’t want them to look even MORE alike

- Her interest in aliens and conspiracy theories started as a joke but then she fell down the rabbit hole

    - She saw all the evidence and people’s point of view and she was convinced that there were aliens out there and that the Zodiac Killer is Ted Cruz

              - You know alienmemes420? Yeah, that’s her on forums aggressively proving that her theory is right

                       - She actually came across Keith on one of these forums and even argued with him but she never knew his actual name

                                     - This skill actually came in handy because she was able to figure out the twist at the end of the season months before anyone else 

Dear Evan Hansen sketches because these boys and their dumb trees are ruining my lyfe

Beauty and the Beast Fic Rec: Mirrors by @greensearcher

Everyone knows the Beast was selfish and unkind—which, of course, is exactly what a jealous enchantress would want the world to think. A retelling in which young Adam was an innocent victim caught up in his father’s past mistakes, and Belle a willing presence seeking to repay her own father’s debt. And with a vengeful witch on the loose, Gaston is the least of their worries.

You are good at something, stop lying to yourself. You’re good at breaking down comic book plots, cooking ramen perfectly, making your friends happy, knowing the time without looking at a clock, getting the perfect ending at RPG’s, or figuring out the twist ending to movies. Don’t let society tell you your talents are meaningless because they don’t serve an economical purpose. Your talents reflect your interests and passions, and what’s important to you is important.
So here’s an email I just sent to Marvel, in case you’re interested

To the editors of Marvel Comics:

Many of the letters in your letters pages begin with the writer’s long history of reading comics as evidence that you should care about their opinion and want to keep them as a customer. While I may be relatively new to comics, I think I’m a pretty desirable customer. Not only do I have disposable income and a willingness to spend money on physical books in a brick-and-mortar comic shop, but I’m also a teacher and librarian with the power to get your books in the hands of the next generation.

Until recently, I was thrilled to do just that. I teach at a school that serves a very diverse population and I wanted to expose my students to heroes who look like them. I bought them Miles Morales, Sam Wilson, Ms. Marvel, Silk, The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, various team books, and more. I did this not with the school’s budget, but with my own money (and I of course took the opportunity to read them myself first).

For myself (although I also share most of them with students), I have every issue of Patsy Walker, A.K.A. Hellcat!, The Mighty Thor, Mockingbird, Storm, and most of the recent Black Widow and Captain Marvel runs. I’ve been eagerly awaiting Nick Fury and America, and was not disappointed by their #1s. I’ve loved so much of what Marvel has given me over the past few years; I got to see parts of myself and the people I love in these books, parts that I don’t always get to see in popular media.

But none of the above were the characters that got me into comics; that honor belongs to Steve Rogers. I fell in love with him in the movies, with his steadfastness and his sense of justice and his belief in doing the right thing and protecting individuals. I went back and read Brubaker’s Winter Soldier arc, but was too intimidated by the vastness of the Marvel universe to read many of the books he was currently appearing in when I first started reading comics.

And then I found out he was being restored to his young self and getting a new series. I was ECSTATIC. I couldn’t wait to get it and see what new adventures this amazing character would go on. When I found out about the twist at the end of #1, I was upset, but everyone assured me that this is comics - it’ll be mind control or a decoy or some other trick. Soon everything would be back to normal. But as I realized how committed everyone at Marvel was to the reality of Steve-the-Hydra-Agent, I also realized that this was a book that didn’t want me as a reader. This version of Steve Rogers seemed to have nothing in common with the Steve Rogers I had fallen in love with. As a queer woman with Jewish ancestry, I felt like my concerns were dismissed and that I was unwelcome. 

So I didn’t buy the book. I kept my other subscriptions and continued to enjoy them, all the while waiting for the trick-behind-the-trick that everyone else seemed sure would come. And then Secret Empire began.
I don’t know if I can put into words how it felt to find out that according to this new story, Steve Rogers has never been a hero at all. The closest I can get is that it was a punch in the gut, although I feel the cliche fails to accurately convey the strength of my response.

Stories matter. Heroes matter. And in a world that feels full of pain and fear and darkness, stories and heroes matter even more. The people I love are living with a lot of fear right now - fear of deportation, fear of losing access to health care, fear of being attacked for who they love or the color of their skin - and so am I. We need heroes who can remind us of why we fight, why we resist, why we rise above, why we plant ourselves like a tree and say “no, you move.”

Steve Rogers used to be that hero for me and for many others. To take a hero like Steve Rogers and destroy everything that made him who he was, everything that he was created to be…I don’t know why that is a story that Marvel wants to tell right now. Or ever. It is incomprehensible to me.

And it leaves me torn. I have asked my shop to not pull any books related to Secret Empire for me, and a part of me wants to firmly declare that Marvel will never see another cent of my money at all. The other part of me remembers how much I have loved and appreciated my other experiences as a Marvel fan, the encouragement that your characters and stories have given me, the ways they’ve made me laugh and given me something to look forward to, a bright spot in the middle of the week.

I don’t know if I will keep buying Marvel comics. I want to, but I’m not sure you want me to. Right now, it seems like I’m the type of customer that you don’t want at all - the customer who values the diversity you’ve blamed for the sales slump and who wants her good guys to be good, even when it’s hard.

Hoping to remain a fan,
Rachel A. 

(a/n: sort of a random continuation of this one old prompt I did. because why not? not edited too much so i hope it reads well haha. basically au where geoff’s king and everyone works at the castle expect for ryan who’s a lord in charge of some land at the edge of Geoff’s kingdom)

It sounds like the start of a bad joke. The Lord and the Jester run into each other in the King’s garden in the early hours of the day. Where do they go from there? Gavin wishes he knew the end of the tale as he watches Lord Haywood quietly walk around, observing the plants. He doesn’t mean to spy on him and certainly wasn’t stalking; he had been here first after all. But when he saw the Lord had wandered in, he couldn’t not watch him.

Lord Haywood is a strange one, at least in Gavin’s observation of him. This is his third visit to the castle, on some business or another. They’ve seen each other many times, talked even with each other on each of his visits. And so far he’s always been… nice to him. Polite and kind in any conversation they’ve had. Which, the fact that they’ve even conversed at all is strange in itself. Most high-ranking officials in the kingdom didn’t pay him much mind, let alone been so kind to him. King Ramsey he was close with and many of the other people who lived in the castle. But outsiders only ever disregarded him, seeing him as nothing more than the Fool. Which, to be fair was what he wanted. But Haywood was different.

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Plot Twist: Jenna Intercepted

At the end of 7x10, Jenna is taken out of the blind school and dragged into the back of a van. 

She asks who it is, only to be answered with a latex mask thrown beside her, which she perceives to mean that A.D. has taken her.

We then see “A.D.” in a black hoodie and gloves, driving the van.

What’s questionable about all of this is that A.D. had previously tossed Charlotte’s hoodies and gloves into a garbage can…

I took this to be symbolic of the end of the “hoodie” era, and the beginning of a new one. 

A.D. purchased uniforms online and bragged that “I don’t lurk in the shadows, I hide in plain sight.” As in no hoodies necessary. And we didn’t see any hoodies, until the end of 7x10. 

This is why I’m reluctant to accept that A.D. really took Jenna. Maybe Jenna was taken by somebody else, pretending to be A.D. Somebody who took advantage of her blindness to trick her. All it took was a latex mask for Jenna to believe she was with A.D., which anyone could have procured. 

We could be looking at a brilliant strategic move, in which Jenna is intercepted, deceived, and presented with a bogus “script” of instructions for her to carry out. So that while she thinks she’s working for A.D., she’ll actually be working towards A.D.’s undoing. 

Five Times Ladybug Didn't Recognize Her Partner and One Time She Did

A sequel to Five Times Gabriel Agreste Didn’t Akumatize His Son and One Time He Did. I really wanted to leave it as it was, but I had to come back and give this a happier ending. And of course it ran away from me and got way longer than I meant it to.

I hope you enjoy!


“Is everything okay, kitty?”

Chat Noir looked over at her. “What?”

“You seem a little out of it.”

He shrugged. “No, just…” He sighed. “My dad’s not coming to something kind of…important to me.”

She frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“I mean, I knew he wouldn’t, but… I guess I hoped things would be different now.”

“Different?”

“It’s nothing.”

By the way he looked at her, she knew she shouldn’t press. After all, there was only so much they could share without revealing their identities. “Well…” she gently patted his shoulder. “Maybe you can ask some friends to come instead.” She wished she could attend, but without knowing who he was, that would be impossible.

Sometimes, keeping their identities safe was difficult and even painful, but she knew it was better this way. Once they’d discussed it, he’d even agreed with her.

Still, as Marinette watched Adrien play at his recital, painfully aware of Gabriel Agreste’s absence, she couldn’t help but wonder if someone had gone to Chat Noir’s event to support him the way she, Nino, and Alya had attended Adrien’s recital. She hoped so.

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now that I’ve gotten this idea in mind, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep for the whole week. I need ch144 because I’m starting to think too much.

Ishida is insane okay, we all know that so since this idea is going to haunt me until i get to read ch144, i gotta share and write it down: what if

WHAT IF

what if Ishida intends on broadening the stage for an eventual third part of TG:

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Prize  [ E.P ]

Hiiiiii! Yes, I’m back and I’m not dead lmao I’m so sorry for not having anything up in so long. 

Also, this is my first piece of writing for Narnia that I’m going to be posting on this blog and I’ve been wanting to do this for such a long time but I’ve finally gotten around to actually doing it. The whole Narnia series (books and movies) holds such a large part of my heart to itself and I’m really excited for more of these to come!

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Summary: Edmund challenges reader to a friendly duel. Reader is a fighter but only so in hand to hand combat because of a large dislike for sharp objects. The winner gets a prize from the loser at the end of the match. (Lmao I suck at summaries oops)

Word Count: 1350

Warnings: None, really

You stare at the sword in your hand, contemplating your next move. Should you take him up on his offer to a friendly duel or should you return to pretending to read while watching him train on his own? By no means are you unable to fight because you have always been more than capable to do so. But merely in hand-to-hand combat. Swords and bows and arrows and whips and all were never correct for you – they just never worked well with you.

That, and you have an undying fear of things with sharp edges just like this one. 

“Are you afraid of hurting yourself with that sword in your hand, love?” Edmund smirks, “Just like last time? When you managed to half-impale your own forearm?”

“I’m not afraid of hurting myself, Ed,” You roll your eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that he was the one who’s unknowingly stolen your heart, you would have not even thought of saying yes to the fight against him. But you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front the man you had grown such strong feelings for. 

“Then why are you not accepting the challenge, Y/N?”

“I–um,” You stuttered, not wanting to admit your dislike for swords. After clearing your throat, you blurt, “I don’t like sharp objects, Your Majesty.”

“Is that all?” Edmund chuckles at your teasing use of his title, “It’s merely a friendly duel. I won’t let you get hurt, if that is what you are afraid of.”

With a sigh, you nod your head as if to tell him that you will. He sends you a small smile–one that’s barely there. It’ a smile that few get to see but it’s a smile that many remember. Edmund hands you a sword, his eyes running across the armory as he readies his own. You flash him a mischievous smirk, swinging your leg out to hit his calf lightly. You decide it’s time to toughen up and use the bloody sword.

“Hey,” He says, his eyes looking into your own as he quickly moves out so that your foot never touches his calf. Edmund’s orbs glisten with a sense of cheekiness that you knew could only mean he was enjoying this more than he should. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

You roll your eyes at him, watching as he swings his sword around twice before he pushes it forward. You quickly move to the side, watching as the tip of the sword pierces the air beside your shoulder. As quickly as the first, Edmund strikes at you once, the clash of your own sword being heard throughout the silence of the armory.

It’s difficult for you not to just stop what you’re doing and stare at him as he moves. In your eyes, there is nobody that holds more beauty than Edmund Pevensie. His raven hair falls over his eyes, a slight blush on his cheek from training for so long before now.

“If you cut me with that sword of yours,” You mumbled, loud enough for him to hear you as you both repeatedly swing at each others with the freshly sharpened weapons. “My veins will haunt you. That’s a promise.”

This time it was Edmund’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Honestly, you’re kind of weird.” Edmund grunts, blocking another one of your hits. His eyes meet yours once more, his gaze piercing your own through the gap between your swords.

“Took you long enough to figure that one out,” You smile. This time your leg actually hits his calf with so much force it sends him to the floor. It was a simple trick (if it could even be called a trick) that Edmund would have seen coming if you were anyone else. But he had his guard down more than his usual. “I mean, really Edmund, we’ve known each other for years!”

“And yet this is still the first time you’ve managed to have almost beat me,” And he pounces back up, quickly swiping the side of your sleeve with the end of his sword. You glare at him as he twists the sword out of your hand, causing it to fall to the floor beside your feet before he’s holding the tip of his own at your neck with a devious smile playing on his pink lips. “I win.”

“Bloody hell, Ed,” You groan, picking up your sword and handing it back to Edmund to put it away safely. “You could have at least let me win. Just this once.”

“Maybe next time. But,” A sly smirk crosses the King’s face as he steps toward you, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do I get for winning, hm?”

You open your mouth as if to say something but you abruptly shut it, holding a single finger up at Edmund’s face before you run to the bag of vegetables that you had picked from the garden. You pull out a carrot, quickly running back to your closest friend with the orange vegetable in your hand.

“Here.” You stick the carrot in his face as if forcing him to eat it right then and there. He just stares at it with an eyebrow raised before he lifts his hand, grabbing the carrot in his hand. His expression is unamused yet amused at the same time, his eyes scanning the carrot as if it were a clue to some long unsolved mystery. But really, it was just a carrot.

“A carrot?”

“Yeah,” You nod, jutting a thumb behind you in the direction of the gardens. “The salads they grow in the garden are really good. The carrots are especially scrumptious, I bet you would love this one.”

“Do I look like a bloody rabbit?!” Edmund exclaims. He quickly regains his more senseful train of thought, his eyes falling back to yours.

“What? Do you not like it?”

“I mean I–yes, I like it. I love carrots.” Edmund trips over his words, not wanting to offend you in any way. Truthfully, Edmund hates carrots. 

“Oh,” You smile. “It just seemed like you didn’t–”

“There was just something else that I had in mind, that’s all.”  And taking advantage in his sudden boost of confidence, he pulls you into his chest, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with the softest touch his fingers could manage.

Both you and Edmund don’t fail to notice the speed of your individual heart rates increase from the proximity and you silently hope that he can’t hear the beating of your heart because of how close you are. He bites his lip once he notices the blush that tints your cheeks. In fact, you were pretty sure they’re on fire.

He touches his forehead to yours tenderly, his hand loosely placing itself on your warm cheek. The feeling of his thumb caressing the soft skin sends shivers down your spine, your breath quickening as his face slowly grows closer to yours. You can feel each and every one of his breaths on your face which you found seemed so very intimate for someone like Edmund.

He looks to your eyes for permission, silently learning the answer you choose to give him. Edmund notices your eyes already falling to his lips. He shuts his eyes, his hold on you growing tighter and more intimate than ever.

And within seconds his lips are on yours.

The kiss starts of slow and gentle but it soon turns towards a more heated and passionate direction. His lips are as soft as clouds against your own lips, sending small shockwaves through your bloodstream and you could feel in every inch of your body, exactly how Edmund the Just feels about you.

He pulls away much too soon for your liking, once again resting his forehead against yours.

“I loved the carrots,” Edmund says, his chest rising and falling as he regains his breath from the kiss that has left him panting more than any war that he has fought. “But that kiss was a prize that I liked much much more.”

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Twisted (entire play)

10/10 would recommend

Pumpkin King

In the spirit of October I wanted to write a little thing for both the Septic and Iplier Egos. And this one came to me just now and I needed to write it for everyone!!

(P.S I’m very tired, so I apologize for mistakes and bad grammar)

Originally posted by xesoteric-extraterrestrialx

“(Y/N)! MARVIN DID A THING!” You hear screams and yells, a couple of grunts and finally a crash as three men burst into your room. Robbie leapt to his feet from his curled up place on the bed when the three started to wrestle on your floor. You weren’t quite sure what was going on but you stepped away from the hustle until  Anti managed to trap both Marvin and Chase under him. They squirmed and cursed, but Anti held them firm by a hand on each of their heads. 
“(Y/N), don’t listen to them. They’re fucked up on red cordial.” Anti snarled, his eyes bright green and vicious. Chase managed a swift kick to Anti’s groin and Marvin flashed him with a handful of sparks. The demon bellowed and reared away from the two men, swiping the bright lights from his eyes. Chase and Marvin took this time to scramble away from him and dive behind you. 
“Anti has gone too far! Dark is going to murder us all!” Chase whimpered and Marvin nodded. 
“He used my Magic to bewitch Darkiplier! We’re all doomed!” Marvin screeched and you turned to calm them both. Trying to get a coherent sentence out of the two, when Anti shook his head and came around with a growl. 
“It was a harmless joke. He ain’t gonna know.” 
“Not going to know?” Chase shrieked. He looked paler than Robbie and his eyes were like saucepans. “You fudging turned Dark into a vegetable!” 
“Whoa, what?” You quickly cut in. “Time out. What happened? Explain. Now!” 
Marvin turned his face away from your stony glare, fidgeting with his cloak pin and Chase bit his lip. Looking to Anti and then to Marvin. Neither seemed to want to be the one to talk and be the centre of your anger. Both glanced at Anti, who rolled his eyes and snatched your elbow, tugging you behind him through the house and into the basement. He didn’t let go until you were in front of a table. The same one you got Anti to bring down so you could carve pumpkins with Robbie. There was a simple large pumpkin in the centre of said table. The face carved into was rather frightening with the added red glow behind the eyes. Next to the vegetable was a Oujia Board and a circle of candles, something you didn’t much like the look of. 

“Um, what does this have to do with Dark?” You asked, stepping towards the pumpkin. Only to leap back with the eyes suddenly flared with an even brighter red light. You could have sworn the orange vegetable flickered with colored layers. Anti giggled and skipped up to the table to pat the pumpkin. “This is Dark. Like Boy-Tron here said. I turned Dark into a pumpkin.” 
Your eyes went wide and you stared at the flickering vegetable. The red inside it was bright and angry. 
“You weren’t kidding? Anti….how did you manage this?” You exclaimed in a shamefully high pitched voice. “Why was Dark here in the first place?” 
Anti nodded over at the Oujia Board and candles, just as Marvin and Chase peeked down into the basement. “We summoned him. To be honest, lass, we didn’t know it would work until he was standing on the table looking like a fish out of water. Apparently forcibly summoning a demon takes a bit of energy out of them.” Anti seemed quite happy about this discovery and you could have sworn the pumpkin was now shaking and making quiet howling sounds. You quickly stepped up to Anti and eased him away from the screaming pumpkin. 
“You didn’t answer my first question.” You pointed out and Anti shrugged, pulling out a half empty vial of glowing orange gloop. 
“With this. Stole it from Marvin’s room. No idea what it did till fuck-face showed up. ‘Thought it was the best time to do a little experimenting.” Anti giggled and the pumpkin literally jerked on the table. Like someone had kicked it from the inside.  You didn’t know where to begin with scolding Anti. The stealing? Or turning Dark into a vegetable? Instead you threw your hands up and marched towards the stairs. 
“Marvin get your butt down here and fix this!” You yelled and you heard the magician sigh as he slumped down the stairs. With his head hanging and how his gaze didn’t lift from the floor; you already knew what he was going to before he opened his mouth. 
“I don’t know how too.” 
The pumpkin jumped maybe two feet in the air before crashing down on the table again. It’s whole surface was splitting into two layers. 
“Well, try.” You coaxed Marvin, pushing him towards the table. “You made that pumpkin goop you can create an antidote.” 
Marvin shook his head, not daring to go near the dancing pumpkin. “It took me two months to create that elixir. An antidote may take even longer! There’s too many variables too-”
The pumpkin shook again and you gasped as a crack formed under the carved out eye. Dark’s anger was filling the room with a crushing pressure. It was already beginning to give you a migraine. Anti laughed and knocked his fist against the pumpkin’s head. 
“Calm ya tits, Dark. You’re only stuck as a decaying vegetable. Look, I’ll be nice and put ya out on the porch so you can see all the trick or treaters come and shit their pants. You like that type of stuff right? Come on, lets get you out of-”
“No, no, no, no” You quickly charged forward to scoop the glitching pumpkin into your hands. Keeping the glowing side facing away from your body so Dark could still see what was going on. “Ow, Dark, chill! I don’t want to drop you. Look, no one is leaving this house until Dark is himself again.” You stated firmly, slathering the “parental” voice on thick and glaring at the three. “That means, unless this is resolved before tonight, no one is going trick-or-treating.”

There was a chorus of disgruntled “awws” from the three men. But before Anti could start complaining, the back end of the room twisted in on itself and Wilford Warfstache stepped out of the black hole. There was a blast of air as the room returned to normal and the showman flicked his suspenders. As if he didn’t just summon a portal with glowing pink edges. 
“Now, before all you lovely candy-pops start howling, I’m here to drag Dark home. I know he’s here. And I also know our little contract about holidays being off limits for clash of the titan wars.” Wilford said as he approached. Both Chase and Marvin stepped back as he stepped forward, but Anti stood his ground and started glitching. 
“This ain’t your business, Strawberry.” He hissed and Wilford waggled his mustache under a firm glare. 
“I don’t like being here either, Bean-Baby, but alas Darkasparkle’s frustrated cries have brought me here.” 
You looked down at the pumpkin and couldn’t help but grin as you turned to hold Dark up to Wilford. To which Wilford twitched up an eyebrow and tilted his head. The pumpkin vibrated in your hands for a moment as silence settled in the basement. Then Wilford’s lips stretched in a large smile and his chest started bouncing in a loud laugh that echoed throughout the room. 
“Oh deary, Dark, what have you gotten yourself into now, hmm?” Wilford chuckled and the pumpkin shimmered in your hand. Making it difficult to hold onto. “Alright, alright, don’t get your lacey-panties in a twist.” Wilford took the pumpkin from your hands and placed it on the floor in front of him. Everyone instinctively stepped back as Wilford’s pink hair started to glow with a neon light. It shined brightly enough that you were forced to look away. It was only when you heard a loud, rumbling roar and Anti’s loud static like laugh did you dare look back. The scene in front of you made your jaw drop and clap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing. 
Dark had Anti by the throat, pinned off his feet against the wall and his body was layered with red and blue. Anti, red in the face and squirming, was cackling manically as Dark started to growl through a carved mouth. 
“You better pray I don’t find you after Halloween, vermin. Or else I’m going to string you up for next years decorations.” Dark threw Anti across the room. His body crashed into the table and flipped it. Breaking the wooden surface and scattering the candles in all directions. Anti’s giggles were still heard from under the splintered remains. 
The pumpkin gaze swiveled onto you and you froze in place. The red glow in the pumpkin’s head simmered and Dark’s voice rang out through the veggie teeth. It was a growl, full of anger and hate, but not entirely directed at you.
“You do not want to be in this house when this holiday is over, (y/n). Find yourself a place to stay for a few days.” You could only nod. Keeping your mouth covered to hide the smile as Dark, with his pumpkin head, turned and climbed the stairs to exit the basement. You glanced at Wilford, who was nibbling his lip and making a loud whistle-like exhale as he said. “Well….. I think I’ll be sleeping with a locked door and possibly a room full of lasers tonight.” 
“You mean you didn’t purposefully do that?” You gasped and Wilford shook his head. Looking flabbergasted. 
“I tried to warp his body back to the way it was before he turned veggie. I must have missed something.” Wilford grumbled and Anti stood, slapping Wilford on the back with a wide, impish grin. 
“Wilford, I never knew you had it in you.” 

“WARFSTACHE!” 

Chase and Marvin dived for the furthest corner of the room and even Anti glitched out of the basement as Dark’s heavy foot-falls started storming down the stairs. 
“You’re on your own.” Wilford said before disappearing in a twisted vortex of colors. You were the only one left to stand against the burning red gaze of the Pumpkin King. Who towered over you, shadows swirling around him as red and blue outlines flicker and pulled away from him. 

100 Days of R/Hr: Day 12

Prompt: tiny apartment

Prompted by: LilyMay77

For the record, my canon is pretty much that they moved in together at the end of her 7th year at Hogwarts (either with Harry or just on their own), but let’s go with this for fun today. Hope you enjoy! x


It had actually been sort of an awful week. Not only had the Aurors failed to make any real progress on their current case, but Hermione had been so busy with reports that she hadn’t been able to visit when he’d had a few free hours in Inverness on Tuesday. Now, it was late Friday- no, Saturday morning, really… and he could at least feel relieved that he’d not had to stay in that dusty old cabin with four other blokes sleeping on bedrolls in the same room through the weekend as well.

He’d just started turning the key in the lock of his flat door when he heard… a cat meowing?

Pausing to listen, he was sure it was coming from inside his flat, which made him a lot more curious than nervous. For a moment, he almost convinced himself he was delirious from lack of sleep and had been trying to unlock the wrong door. But the key turned the rest of the way quite easily, and he stuffed it into his pocket, removing his wand and opening the door cautiously.

“Crookshanks?”

A fluffy ball of orange fur stared up at him, and he lifted a brow, realising that Hermione must have been here recently, though it was strange for her to bring her cat along and then leave him behind, unless…

He took off his coat and turned to toss it in the vague direction of the sofa when his eyes landed on the coffee table, and he grinned. It was absolutely covered in books, stacked several deep and filling every inch of space aside from one small corner that housed an empty tea cup and saucer. As he looked closer, he noticed that an avalanche of books continued to the floor, torn scraps of parchment stuck randomly between the pages as place holders. His old orange patchwork blanket was lying in a heap on the far sofa cushion, twisted with a navy wool jumper that he recognised as his own, though he’d definitely not left them there last Sunday as he’d vacated his flat for his assignment. As he moved toward the short hall that led to his bedroom, he spotted Hermione’s trainers sitting neatly behind the sofa, solidifying his suspicion.

He’d been conflicted, when he’d arrived at the Ministry an hour ago, about really preferring to go directly to her parents’ house to see her, but he didn’t want to wake anyone after midnight. Now that he was home, this was far better. He held his breath as he pushed open his half-closed bedroom door.

She was lying in the middle of his bed, on her side, sound asleep. Her hair was fanning out over his pillow, half-obscuring her face, and one of her feet was sticking out from the end of his twisted sheets and blankets. His heart lodged in his throat as he stared at her in the dark, and he wondered why he hadn’t asked her to just move in with him before. Maybe because he hadn’t known this… whatever he could call the fact that she had been evidently living at his flat while he was gone.

He was so torn between wanting her to know he was there and not wanting to wake her, but he tried not to make a sound as he walked slowly further into his room, wondering if he ought to kip on the sofa at least until she did wake up. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t shared his bed on plenty of occasions when she had stayed over with him before, but she rarely slept all the way through the night, and she was currently sprawled in the dead centre of the bed, making it hard for him to imagine climbing in with her without disturbing her.

As he navigated toward his chest of drawers for a change of clothes, he spotted her jeans on the floor and smiled wider, continuing in his discoveries by locating her folded jumper on the arm of the chair by the window and yet another large book on his bedside table. He managed to almost silently extract boxers and a clean shirt from a drawer before leaving the room again and turning right to enter his small loo, closing the door behind him so the sound of the sink wouldn’t bother her.

No longer very surprised at this point, he grinned at her toothbrush inside the cup he used as a holder, her hairbrush on the edge of the sink, and… bloody hell, another book. He’d just stripped off his clothes to pile on the floor, put on his clean pants and brushed his teeth when he heard her soft, tentative voice.

“Ron?”

He opened the door and grinned out at her, taking in her flushed face and embarrassed expression… noting that she was only wearing one of his flannel shirts… and possibly knickers underneath, though he could use his imagination-

“I didn’t expect you back til Sunday.”

“Nice to see you, too,” he teased, abandoning the loo and the clean shirt he hadn’t put on yet to move closer toward her, but he hesitated at the way she bit her lip apologetically.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

She grimaced and tucked a thick clump of messy, sleep-tousled hair behind her ear.

“I’d planned to clean up and go home tomorrow.”

“I told you you could stay whenever you wanted,” he reminded her. “S’why you’ve got a key.”

“I know… but I didn’t ask if I could be here all week, and I’ve sort of made a mess of your flat, and my things are everywhere, and I didn’t want you to see it like this,” she rambled, looking even more flustered.

“Oh yeah, because I’m an incredibly tidy person, myself…” he said sarcastically.

“That’s not the point,” she sighed.

He suspected she had narrowly avoided rolling her eyes, even though she was still giving off the impression of mild shame that he’d found her here. His lips twitched, but he knew he still had some work to do to reassure her of how absolutely fine it was that she was here.

“I should have asked you,” she concluded.

“You never need to ask. But would you have told me you stayed, if I hadn’t come back til Sunday?”

Guilt filled her features again, and she didn’t really have to answer.

“Hang on,” he said, slowly. “Have you done this before?”

She closed her eyes tightly, for a second, and when she opened them again, she almost whimpered her next words.

“I’m sorry.”

His stomach was fluttering wonderfully as he shook his head.

“Stop that. Hermione, you can move in if you want. I don’t care.”

“You…” she started, wide eyes staring up at him, arms crossed over her chest. “What?”

“I’m really glad you’re here. I was worried about waking everybody up if I showed up at your parents’ house. And, to be honest, I loved finding all your shit here… even Crookshanks.”

She chewed her bottom lip for a second in contemplation.

“You don’t want me to live here. You’d never have time alone-”

“Don’t want time alone.”

“But…” Her eyes darted between his, as if looking for some sign of hesitation. Good luck, he thought. She wouldn’t find any. “I don’t think you realise how much stuff I have, and your flat is tiny.”

“I’ve been in your room plenty…”

She licked her bottom lip, and he tried mostly unsuccessfully to hold back a grin.

“Have you looked under the bed?” she asked, shyly.

“Why? Is it all just books under there? Just put ‘em under my bed then. I think mine’s bigger than yours, anyway.”

She exhaled sharply through her nose, still staring sceptically up at him.

“Point is, you could move in tomorrow, and no I don’t need time to think about it, and no I don’t give a damn how much stuff you put in every room because, if you did move in, it would be your flat, too.”

She blinked rapidly for a second, and he realised her eyes were watering.

“You’ve always wanted your own space, Ron. You said so when you left the Burrow…”

“I didn’t mean away from you. Just didn’t fancy living in my old room after… y’know, the war and being on our own.”

“But now you have your own flat and furniture and- and everything. That has to matter to you.”

It was starting to make sense, now. He blinked at her, realising he’d somehow miscommunicated something rather important.

“You’ve really thought, for almost a year, that I needed to be here alone?”

“I don’t know,” she said, tightening her arms across her chest. “You never said. And I know how important it always was to you growing up to have something that really belonged only to you.”

“Yeah, alright. I see why you thought- I should have explained better. There’s no real difference between something that’s mine and something that’s ours, yeah? I haven’t thought of it like that since… yeah, prob’ly since the tent, honestly.”

“Since the tent?” Her eyes widened, and she started breathing between slightly parted lips. He shrugged, smiling.

“Reckon it was you keeping a lot of our stuff together in your bag, and… I dunno, I liked it. Made me feel like we were sort of living together. I mean we were, technically, but not like that.”

She swallowed and took a small step closer.

“I felt like that, too. That’s exactly why I did it,” she admitted.

The left corner of his mouth lifted up into a lopsided grin.

“I’m really glad you’re back early. Missed you so much,” she sniffed.

“C’mere.”

She took a step toward him, and he cupped her face in his hands, ducking to kiss her. She rested her palms on his bare chest, stood up on her toes to reach him better, and he skimmed his hands slowly down the front of her body, between them, shivering as she let a low groan vibrate into his mouth. He held her hips for a moment, and then his hands found their way inside the back of the flannel she was wearing, fingers spreading over her bare skin and bringing her closer as she looped her arms around his neck.

She finally pulled away a bit, gasping in a breath, but her glistening eyes were gazing back into his, and he tightened his arms around her waist, picking her up as she squealed with surprise.

“Missed you, too,” he said in a low rumble, against her ear, before burying his face in her hair for a second and lowering her back to the floor, smiling.

He released her only to take her hand and lead her back to the bedroom, happily noticing her bracelet and elastic hair band looped over the bed post as he climbed in and tugged her close, quickly replacing all the rest of the pronouns in his head from his to theirs.