#howl blue costume

[vseshlo]

Calcifer tells Howl about Sophie's situation (and they both feel something to her)

[paleyparksoul]

The t-shirt here is black like the black-dyed army sweater that was on the hero costume auctioned in the Profiles in History auction. Presumably, the t-shirt and black sweater were layers depending upon the action and ambient tempturature.

The left shot does show the shiny zippers that would have been avoided for their reflection. For the in-universe explanation, chuck up this error to Howard Stark experimentation thinking that the belt pouches would cover the reflective material. Instead, they catch just enough light to make the Hydra soldier's aim on target in the train.

Baby Bucky scrumbs

[bluebearial]

Howl-oween

3.7k words

You’ve been invited to a Halloween party! But you don’t have a good costume…

Good thing your girlfriend basically IS a costume.

Decided to write this a bit more loosely than the other stories :0) Hopefully I didn’t get too loose.

Google docs version here as always smile

You look over the invitation again. Rubbing the pink, cheaply printed paper under your thumb. You want to, but like… Should you?

“You still lookin’ over that thing?” The couch that you’re sitting on bounces as a heavy weight lands it. Looking over, you see Lupa give you a stern look. She’s leaned over the back of the couch, her heavy, squishy body being than enough to compress the cushions underneath. She crosses her arms as her face softens, offering you a wry little smile.

“What’s the matter, hun? Shouldn’t you be happy? Parties’re supposed to be really fun, right?”

“Yeah, but… Well. Yeah, they are, but- I don’t know… I hardly know the host. I’m surprised they even invited me. And…” You trail as you reach into your pocket. Your hand finds something plastic and you grasp it, retrieving a set of black cat ears, held together by the flimsiest little strap. “Do you really think I could make this work?” She snorts.

“Hahaha, is that even a question?” She asks. You feel a tinge of warmth on your cheeks as you shuffle in your seat.

“Look, hun,” your girlfriend continues, “Let’s face facts. It’s already Halloween. You don’t got time to get yourself a real costume.” She begins to trace her claw along the couch cushion, drawing circles into the felt. “Now, if only there was a good, free costume you could take… One that’s big, bad, scary… One that loooves you.~” Her paw slips up to the top of your head, ruffling your hair. She tilts her head, resting her cheek in her other paw as she finishes her pitch. Your girlfriend’s even wiggling her butt, swishing her tail against the floor.

Oh my god, she’s so sweet… But- Wait, you squint despite how good it feels to be pet. That probably doesn’t mean anything. More importantly, surely, she can’t mean…

“…You? You want me to wear you?”

“Yeah! You could, like, pass me off as your costume or whatever. You do all the walkin’ and talkin’, and I’ll just be, y’know, keepin’ up appearances in a way.”

“Besides,” she mimics a stretch, putting her elbows up and her paws behind her head. “I wanna get some fresh air. You’re always out ‘n about, while I’m cooped up in here.”

Tch. ‘You’re always out ‘n about’. As if you don’t hardly leave the house, not counting your short work commute. You’re basically a hermit. You… do get her point, though, and you feel bad for her.

“But… how would that work? Do I just, put you on? Like a suit?” You ask. Lupa rolls her eyes.

“Well, duh! Of course you put me on like a suit. Dude, what do you think this zipper’s for?” She points to the golden piece of metal resting atop her chest. It’s attached to her collar. If you look closely, you could just about see a line running down her chest and across her belly, down to her crotch. “I’ve just gotta… um…”

As her paw hovers over the zipper, her lip begins to curl. As she gingerly holds it, playing with it in her fingers, you get on your feet and approach her.

“Lupa, it’s fine. You don’t have to—"

“No! I can do it. It’s. Just uh…” She stammers, “A little… y’know.”

You nod. From the way she’s acting, you’re pretty sure that you Know. It takes her a moment, but she grabs her handle a bit more assuredly. You hear the zipper slowly come undone, and you watch intently as more and more of her interior is revealed. Lupa kneels as she opens herself fully. Her fingers dance along the edge of her cavity, drumming along the small, metal teeth that were only recently locked together.

“W-Well. Hmh, like what you see, huh?” She’s noticed the way you’re staring, and she gently widens the gap just a bit more.

You lean in, carefully placing a hand on her thigh as you gaze into the wolf. Her interior is a deep, dark blue. The thickly-padded material is very smooth, unlike the fluffy coat on her outside. This sheer contrast is already enough to enrapture you. After all, you’ve never seen her insides before. The way it folds on itself almost compels you to touch it. You lift your hand to do just that, but you stop yourself. Looking up at her for permission, you look her right in her single, wide eye. Her mouth is slightly agape, her body gently rising and falling as she breathes as lightly as she can, but she quickly masks up as she notices your gaze. A toothy little grin, and the smuggest look you’d ever seen. So hammy.

“What’re you waitin’ for? I don’t exactly open up to just anyone, y’know. So…”

Her paw ends up atop your head again, and she gently coaxes you in. You follow her wordless advice, plunging your face into her depths. You close your eyes as you slip deep inside her and turn around. Your arms find their way into her hollow limbs – and the same happen to your legs. Despite how big she is, you find her to be surprisingly tight. But not too tight? It’s… You settle for ‘snug’. It’s like she fits you almost perfectly. It’s tight enough that you’re comfy, but not so tight that it suffocates you. You push deeper, closing your eyes and squirming as you try your best to completely settle in. Your hands enter her paws, finding your fingers to be much heavier than before. You arch your back as you push your head up against a soft barrier. You lift your hands - your paws? – and press them to the sides of your head. If your senses weren’t so numb, you’d liken it to putting on a helmet. You pull and push against the barrier until it suddenly gives way.

Then, you open your eyes.

The first thing you notice is how tall you are. You weren’t exactly short before, but the ground looks miles away now. You run your paw – is it really yours? - down your middle, growing very aware of the way your soft, thick fur feels against your squishy pads. Your tongue brushes against your teeth, and you feel a hint of sharpness. It’s enough for you to pursue it, running your wide, pink tongue across your row of sharp, white chompers. You spend extra time on one of your fangs… No wonder Lupa could tear through her food with such ease.

“Yea~heah, pretty cool, huh?” Your? mouth moves on its own, before you remember that the big, grey snout in the midst of your vision isn’t yours.

“Um—Yeah…” You quietly answer. It does move when you speak though. You can feel it move. As you turn, you feel something heavy drag behind you. Turning more, you see something grey in the corner of your vision. Round and round you go, until – aha. You clutch it in your paws, and—Oh. It’s your tail.

Not your tail. Lupa’s tail.

“Hey, hun? I know how it feels to Touch Fluffy Tail ‘n all, believe me. But… ain’t there a Halloween party you wanna go to?”

“Oh! Right. Y-Yeah, let’s. Let’s go.” You dart up and dash for the door. As you reach to open it, you soon realize just how big your paws are. You turn a knob meant for much smaller hands than yours, and the door opens. You step out, and off you go.

It’s not a long walk to the party, but it’s more than enough time for you to get used to your new gait. Not only are your hands huge, but your feet are too. You’ve tripped over your own paws more times than you’d like to admit… Thankfully, faceplanting on the sidewalk doesn’t hurt that much when you’re lined with stuffing and fur.

“So, Lupa…” You trail off.

“Yeah?”

“I thought you were a plush all the way through.” You run a paw along one of your thick, fuzzy arms. “Were you always a suit?”

“It’s… Weird,” she replies. “It’d take too long to explain it, but I guess it kinda depends on how I’m feelin’?”

You offer a hum in reply as you approach the house. This should be the spot…

You approach the house, walking up the steps to the porch. Your mind wanders as you gaze at the decorations. Plastic spiders glint in the light, as they stand silently on elaborately laid out strings of cotton. Pumpkins stand guard at the front door, their faces ogling you as you walk by—klonk.

You stop in your tracks as you knock your head on the doorframe. It doesn’t hurt necessarily, but you’re left rubbing your forehead all the same.

“What’s this doorway meant for? Ants?” you grumble. Lupa snickers.

“Hey. Hun. You know that’s just as tall as our door at home, right?”

“Oh,” you blink. “Right. Kinda forgot that.”

She snickers some more, twisting your snout into a mischievous little grin that you try to bite down as you bend your legs slightly. Your ears still brush the top of the frame as you make your way inside, and you cross your arms.

You’re here! You’re finally here! Your doorway encounter had made you almost forget, but you’ve arrived at your first Halloween party in…

Gosh, how long has it been?

Apprehension creeps up your body like a vine as you make your way into the steadily growing crowd. What do you even do at parties like this? You’d been so concerned about whether you should go at all, you hadn’t the time to even think about that.

Other people are in costume, though, and they looked so good to you. There are witches, vampires, the occasional sheet ghost. There’s even a cat girl near the punch bowl! Hey, you could go for a drink.

“What’re mew supposed to be?” the girl asks, starry-eyed as you approach. Ough, you weren’t expecting to have to talk to her…

“I’m, I guess I’m a werewolf? Kinda?” You reply, looking over yourself. “Y’know, like. Rawr.” Raising your paws, showing off your claws, you put on a bit of a forced scowl. She tilts her head, putting a hand on her hip as her admiration seems to fade.

“A werewolf kinda, huh? Nyaa, can’t say I’m a big fan of dogs… Oh- But that’s still kinda cool!”

“Oh.” You clear your throat. “Well, I’m not a—I’m not really a dog—”

“—And don’t you forget it, runt.” You cut yourself off, your voice turning much gruffer as your brow furrows. “Call me a dog again and see what happens.”

“Oho? And what’ll happen, mrrp~?” She asks, leaning against the table with an amused little grin.

“Maybe I’ll bite’cha.” You simply reply. And you lean in for a demonstration, muzzle against her neck, teeth tantalizingly close to biting down. “Nomf.” The way she shudders is so satisfying.

“Mrr~ow, nyalright, nyalright.~ Mew’ve made your point, pup,” she concedes, gently pushing you away. “Nhey, what’s myour name?”

“It’s—” You hesitate as your own name crosses your mind. “…Lupa. Call me Lupa.”

“Purr~leasure to meet mew, Lupa. Call me Purriwinkle,” she says, putting a paw to her chin. “Nyaa, I hope we meet again soon. I think I like mew.~” With that, she’s off. There’s something off about her, but you can’t put your paw on why…

You blink.

“What just happened?” You ask. “Did you just—”

“Be the best wingman ever? Pretty much,” she says, putting her paws on her hips. “Dude, we’ve gotta make you less awkward.”

You blush, but you silently agree. The rest of the party goes more smoothly, thankfully. You don’t have any run-ins that’re that awkward, but you find Lupa taking over from time to time as you continue to mingle. After a while, you kinda get used to it. You’ve given out your actual name a few times, but you find that the guests prefer calling you by her name. It probably helps that it’s written on a tag on your tail. You like it, though. You like being Lupa, and you can tell she’s having fun too.

You’re back home before long, and the both of you are laughing as you open the door and shove your way in.

“See? Told you wearin’ me was a good idea!” Lupa’s the happiest she’s ever been, wrapping her arms around herself and guffawing.

“Yeah! God yeah, you were right,” you can’t help but agree. Tonight was the best. There’s a certain spring in your step as you strut along, dragging your claws along the couch. It tears more easily than you expect, but hey. You can fix that later, right?

As you enter your bedroom, you run your paws along your chest.

“Hey, Lu, did I leave the heat on or somethin’?” You ask as you approach the vanity, leaning down to get a look at your face. Gosh, you look good. Your mouth moves as your friend answers.

“No, that’s love my love and adoration for ya’. Oh, and my fur coat. Can’t forget that.”

“Lupaaaaa… Since when were you so sappy?”

“Tsch. Since now I guess.”

You roll your eyes as you reach up to your zipper, but you can’t suppress a chuckle.

“Well, I guess I oughta take you off now, huh? It’s getting really hot in here. In fact, it’d be easy for me to just say you’re hot.”

“…So I’ll say it,” you continue. “You’re really hot.”

The way Lupa twists her face makes you want to grin.

“Oh my god, dude. You’re so corny…” Her words come out as a muffled growl, especially as she puts a paw to her face, but you could feel the way her emotions are mixing and swirling. Her tail fwaps against the bedframe behind you. She’s loving this.

“Corny? Dude, I was born on the cob.” She only grips her face tighter.

“Just get me off already. Please?” She begs as you snicker.

“…I’m gonna ignore the way you phrased that,” you tease, “But you’re right, you’re right, I’ll take you off now…”

Unlike just about everything else you’ve held tonight, your—her zipper feels almost big enough for your paws to properly hold. You turn away from the mirror as you continue to undress. Down the zipper goes, releasing the foggy air inside. Grey paws clutch the sides of your head and pull, separating you from your friend for the first time in hours. You can’t help but take a deep breathe through a mouth that’s well and truly yours. You’d almost forgotten how it felt.

“Honestly, what’s gotten into you?” You hear her ask as you slip your arms out of hers.

“I dunno!” You pull your legs out of hers. “I guess you’ve been rubbing off on me. It feels nice though!”

“Hmph. Yeah, well… You’re—Whoah.” She abruptly trails off as you step out, making your way to the bed.

“Hm?” You look back to see your girlfriend. She’s never looked so stunned before… Caught in the midst of zipping herself up, her wide eye is transfixed on you. Is something on your face? You still feel warm…

“Lupa?” You ask. Is something on your face? Is something behind you? You turn around, and- You do see something—feel something drag against the floor. You keep turning to chase it, grabbing and holding its cream-colored tip in your hands. Speaking of your those…

They’re bigger, puffier, in a way that resembles Lupa’s mitts though not to the same extent. You look at the pink pads of your palms, before flipping your hands to see rusty brown fur. Your gaze trails up your arm, noticing the creamy, off-white fuzz that covers your chest. Whatever happened to you must’ve affected your figure too. Just how much of this bust is really fur?

Almost robotically, you turn to look back at the mirror. A narrower face than you’re used to greets you, and its appearance compels you to walk closer. Soft pads squish underfoot as you get a better look at yourself, absentmindedly tracing the fluff of your cheek with a clawed hand. Oh my god, you have claws now.

The fur on your back starts to bristle as you look more closely. If you squint, you could see just the faintest yellow seam running from your cute little nose up the middle of your face. Seams line your limbs too, segmenting you with little, dotted strips of yellow fabric.

“Um.”

Your ears instinctively swivel towards the voice. You turn and you expect you look way up to see your girlfriend’s face like before, but it seems you’ve gained about a foot in height too. You’re still not as tall as her, but you’re almost there. Immediately, she’s hugging you, squeezing you oh-so-tightly. If you weren’t sure already, the way your body squishes and twists under her grip confirms it. You’re a plush, inside and out.

And it feels good. The way her body feels against yours, fur against fur, it fills a void that you didn’t know you had. You want more of this. Needed it. Your paws flail a bit before they find Lupa’s sides. You cling to her, and you don’t let go.

“---, --- --- ----?”

“Hh—Huh? What?” Deep in yearning, it takes you a moment to register her voice. She lets you go, gently putting her paws on your shoulders.

“I said, are you okay?”

“Yeah—I… I think so,” you reply, keeping your voice as level as possible as you look down at your red-brown thighs.

“A-Are you sure?” she asks. Worry mars her face as you look back up at her. “It’s. It’s okay if you’re mad. Really.”

You blink. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because—You trusted me, and—this happened. I-I don’t know how it happened, but—I feel like I… I breached your trust or somethin’. This wasn’t meant to happen…”

“Lupa, no no, no, it’s okay!” You put your paws up. You lean close, resting them on top of hers. “I kinda, always wanted this in a way.” She blinks.

“Really?”

“Besides, you put a lot of trust in me too. I could tell it wasn’t easy to let me in like that.” You tilt your head, “You must really like me a lot.”

“Um, yeah? How is—What? Of course I like you?” She squints at you. “…Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Uhh, I miiight be a little overwhelmed actually,” You admit with an airy chuckle. You look down at your paws again, flexing your stubby digits, “Not in a bad way though, I think. I’m feeling a lot of things right now, and… Hey, I got you to stop worrying about me, didn’t I?”

You give her a smug little grin, and she hums noncommittally. Does she have something else to say?

“Mm… Hey, what was that you said about always wanting this?”

“Oh, uh…” You feel a knot in your chest. A part of you wondered if she was thinking of saying something else, but you’re too stunned by her question to bring it up. Is this something you wanna answer? You could feel your tail curl up on nervous instinct, laying atop your thighs. Oh god, maybe you’ve said too much. “…Yeah, it’s true.”

The enraptured way she looks at you compels you to continue. “Don’t make me spell it out for you…” You say between grit teeth, “You’re hot, babe. You’re big and soft, you’re caring, and… I kinda wanted that. To be that.” You lean in a little closer, wrapping your paws around one of her arms. It’s so big, and- you venture a few squeezes, telling you what you already knew. It’s so soft…

“…Yeah, guess I am kinda cool, huh?” She cocks her head. You puff your cheeks out and pout. Guess it’s her turn to be a little smug…

“Oh, don’t be like that. C’mon…” She raises her paw, and down it comes, right atop your fluffy head, between those pointy ears. You try to put up a retort but ohhh my god why do you feel so relaxed right now…

“Hhheeyyy~wrrrffhhh…” Your thoughts unravel as soon as they form, and a canine little wuff escapes your lips as her claws dig through your hair. You close your eyes, leaning into her paws as they cup your cheeks.

“Oh, wow. What’s wrong, pup? Don’t tell me this is your first time.~” She teases, puffy blue pawpads caressing the sides of your face. You shudder as doggy instincts wash over you. Your tail straightens out and starts to wag, earning you a heartfelt “Awww~!” from your lover. Plastic claws scritch behind your ears, causing all kinds of gooey feelings to swirl in your head. Is this how Lupa feels all the time…?

You flop against her with a heavy huff, wrapping her arms around her. In turn, her arms slip under yours. Up you go. Your feet leave the ground, and she lifts you into the air until your face is level with hers.

“It’s been a long day, huh?” She asks. You give a tired hum in reply, your flattened ears twitching as they try to stand.

“I can go all night…” You murmur. Lupa gives you a little sigh, before giving you a little peck on the lips.

“I wish. But as much as I wanna show you the ropes of being a wolf, you need your sleep.”

As much as you want to protest, she’s decided for you. Off to bed you go, carried by your underarms. She lets you go once you’re there, freeing you to crawl a little ways before letting yourself drop. Your body feels so light and airy overall, but that only emphasizes the weighted portions you have all the more. You arch your back, letting out a squeaky yawn, splaying your fingers… Laying on your side, your tail lazily curling and uncurling… You’ve really gotten used to this thing.

Lupa isn’t far behind you, sidling up next to you with a soft grunt. Before long, you’re both clinging to each other. Her tail finds yours, and begins to coil. You follow her lead until you’ve formed a loose coil with her. Brown on grey, wolf on wolf, drifting off to sleep.

[readerstories]

In Rain and Mud - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 1/4

Saw the movie in theaters finally, brainworm ofc came in strong. (Part 2) (Part 3) (AO3)

Warnings/tags: male reader, eventual canon-typical violence, blood, eventual smut

Wordcount: 996

Summary: Your cabin lays far away from anything and everything. And with the rainstorm currently battering the woods this night you don’t expect to see or hear another human being until you leave for town. So when there’s banging on your door, you switch your book with your shotgun from its place on a sidetable, loading it as you approach your door.

Your cabin lays far away from anything and everything. 

It’s how you want it, how you want to live most of the time.

Leaves you with peace to read your book in front of the roaring fire keeping the chill out, lounging in grey sweatpants and a loose green t-shirt.

And with the rainstorm currently battering the woods this night you don’t expect to see or hear another human being until you leave for town.

So when there’s banging on your door, you switch your book with your shotgun from its place on a sidetable, loading it as you approach your door.

You stop right in front of it, hand on the handle as you sniff, trying to smell and hear whoever is there on the other side.

“Come on! Let us in, drowning in the storm or blowing away would be a really sucky way to die!” Hearing the man is not difficult as he yells to be heard over the howling winds, all you can smell is the rain and your own cabin. You open the door just little more than a crack, keeping your shotgun hidden behind the door for the moment. Two men stands on your porch, bathed in your porch light, the darkness behind them filled with the swoosh of wind, moving trees, and rain,

“Who the fuck are you?” You look at the man in the red and black suit that was banging on your door just seconds ago, briefly glancing from his masked face to his frowning companion behind him, that guy in a yellow and blue suit. 

“Oh thought you would never ask!” Red reaches behind him and yanks Yellow next to him, an arm over Yellow’s shoulder, which gets him a grunt and a fist in his side from Yellow, though Red doesn’t visibly react to the punch.

“I’m Deadpool, but you can call me Wade for short.” Deadpool splays a hand on his own chest as he presents himself. “And this handsome frowny face,” He grabs Yellow’s chin, “This is Wolverine, or Logan if you want less of a mouthful.” Wade winks, Logan batting away Wade’s hand from his face. 

You look them up and down, fully taking in what looks like costumes, that are ripped and bloody in places. Deadpool, or Wade, is sporting two kantanas, two guns in thigh holsters, one knife in a leg holster, and a utility belt. Logan has no visible weapons, though you note the grey slits between the knuckles on his gloves.

“You some kind of heroes? Villains?”

“Merchanaries actually!” Wade voice is surprisingly chipper for someone that is soaked to the bone in ripped clothes. “At least for now while we make ends meet.” Logan pushes Wade’s arm off his shoulder, taking a step to the side as you look at them both.

You grunt.

“Leave the weapons outside.”

“Don’t trust us sweetcheeks?”

“Who the fuck would? Leave em or you can wash away with the rain for all I care.” Wade shrugs, taking off his weapons and putting them on the porch. As he does so, you look at Logan.

“You got any?”

“No.” You catch a whiff of the tangy stench of a lie on that one gruff word, but don’t bother pushing it. You can’t see any right now, not much he could have hidden in the suit, and it’s not like you can’t defend yourself without being armed or prepared.

Without weapons, you let them inside, shutting out the storm once more.

“Take off your shoes, mud.” You order as you unload your shotgun, putting the shells in your pocket, leaning the gun next to the door.

“Hate to ask hot stuff, you got any spare clothes? Would hate, hate, hate to track water and blood all over this rustic but so, so chic wooden floors.

“Yeah.” You walk off to your bedroom to check your closet.

“Ohhhh a man of few words, you and Logan match! I think we’ll get along great cuddling up here together.” There’s a sound that sounds like a punch followed by an “ouf” from Wade. You snort.

Rifling through your dresser, you grab one black hoodie, one blue hoodie, two black sweatpants, two pairs of socks, and two boxers,

You return to the living room with the clothes, where Wade has already started stripping off clothes, leaving him in just pants while Logan is still fully dressed in his soaked suit. You ignore the scars covering all the skin you can see on the almost nude Wade, handing him the bundle with the blue hoodie, while Logan gets the black one.

“So you get the sexy grey pants while we are stuck with boring black? Is this that kinda porn?” You imagine if Wade had any eyebrows they would be wiggling. You ignore his comment.

“Towels under the sink,” You point towards the door of your bathroom, “Food is the kitchen corner, liquor in the cabinet in the corner, the spare bedroom has one bed. Share it or take the couch, don’t care, just don’t fuck on either.” Logan scowls at you, Wade laughs.

“Look pookie, I’m not the only one that thinks we have unsolved sexual tension, the writer thinks so too!” This time you see the punch, this time it topples Wade over, sending him to the floor with a bang. You roll your eyes.

“I’m going to bed, help yourselves, and we’ll see if the weather has cleared up in the morning so you can leave without drowning.” With that, you leave them their own devices, grabbing your book, and for good measure and show, your shotgun on your way to the bedroom.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you hear Wade start talking again with the occasional grunt from Logan in response, though trough the wall and with the howling storm it is easy enough to tune out the sounds of two other people in your space so you can fall asleep.

[thepunkmuppet]

costumes / looks I desperately need gerard way to wear on stage (add your own in reblogs!!)

greek statue, he’s fully painted white including his hair with a white toga with a golden wreath thing on his head. I just think that would look sick

police uniform covered in blood

straight up zombie with full on green decaying gory make up

one of the heathers from heathers

either the blue cheerleader outfit from the i’m not okay mv or the iconic red ones from teenagers. then we’d have a little trio!

ghostface. possibly cunty ghostface as a treat

vanya from umbrella academy - young version with the school girl fit and black mask OR the all white comic version of course

also number five from umbrella academy (classic school boy fit)

this sounds weird but I think this would be really cool and meta for wwwy - a stereotypical mcr fan / emo. as in with that one black parade t shirt, heavy eyeliner, black nails, side swept emo fringe, studded bracelets and belts, skinny black jeans, vans or converse. again a very meta concept, after their old person looks in 2022 I can really see them doing this as a whole band this year and I would loooove to finally see gerard in the fashion style that’s so associated with him and his music

howl from howl’s moving castle

possibly also sophie from howl’s moving castle

slenderman

literally just satan. like the most stereotypical devil, give them fully painted red skin, horns, fangs, yellow or black eyes, maybe even goat legs. probably with a majestic black suit or something, or for a succubus vibe a black flowy dress with a slit down the leg. now that I think about it, this would be a SICK wwwy look to shock us all, esp if ray mikey and frank all dressed as other demons or the souls of the damned or some shit.

peni parker - he made her!!

question mark jumper from doctor who

also missy from doctor who omg

jane doe from ride the cyclone, possibly with added marionette or cracked porcelain makeup like in some renditions

classic majestic white-robed angel, with enormous fake wings and maybe even sparkly gold makeup and a big gold halo. also would be cool in all black, or all white but covered in blood (red, gold, or black, all would look cool)

buffy summers in prophecy girl, except he also has blood all over his neck from where the master bit her. I hope he’s watched btvs I think he would very much enjoy it this look would fit with their vampire vibe sooooo well

classic frankenstein’s monster

mothman. not only is he a heartthrob but he’s also a hunched goblin cryptid to me. the duality of man (he/theys)

jane prentiss from the magnus archives. if you don’t know she is a living flesh hive of sentient worms, she’s decaying and full of holes. again with all the nasty decaying rotting prosthetic makeup plus THE RED DRESS!!!

mr darcy vibes, sopping wet regency man with a big puffy white t shirt

opposite side of that, fuck it give him a full on ballroom gown

henry creel from stranger things (pre-vecna, nurse outfit)

any disney princess

crowley from good omens. my man looks GOOD in those anthony janthony aah sunglasses he has

cute flowy summer dress with like a flowery pattern. either go cottagecore with it and have flowers in his hair, or go full white soccer mum and put him in huge cunty sunglasses a massive straw sun hat with a ribbon on it

all-black cowboy!!!! the fact I’ve never seen him in a cowboy hat is actual sacrilege. also would very much appreciate an all-pink sequin studded cowboy

any alice in wonderland character, especially alice herself, the classic disney movie look with the blue dress and the bow in the hair. he would also do a great chesire cat (spooky big grin makeup paired with his weird ass dramatic facial expressions?? inspired) or a super extravagant queen / king / knave of hearts. also 100000% the mad hatter omfg, he was BORN to do a jefferson from once upon a time look!!

[venus-haze]

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? (Foxy Coltrane x Reader)

Summary: It’s Halloween, 1985, and your Little Red Riding Hood costume catches the attention of the Midnight Wolfman himself.

Note: Female (incredibly unhinged) reader. Foxy calls the reader “Red” because of the Halloween costume, not due to any physical descriptors. I've literally been working on this since February🫠 Anyway, this is for all the old man fuckers out there🖤 Except if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Discussions of canon typical violence. Sexually explicit content involving semi-public play, oral sex (m. receiving) and light roleplaying elements.

October 31, 1985

As soon as you walked into the bar up the road from your place, you immediately wanted to walk out. Having no other plans for Halloween night, you figured you could make the best of going solo. Wore a cute little costume to see where the night led you. Somehow you ended up in a bar where no one else was dressed up for the holiday that called for it. At least, not to the extent you were. Sure, it was a mass-produced Little Red Riding Hood costume you bought on your way home from work, but you made it your own with some makeup and cute heels you dug out of your closet.

You trudged over to the bar, soon nursing your drink and your hurt feelings. With your lip pouted in a slight sulk, you looked around, hoping to catch someone’s attention. Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a man approached. Dark eyes locked on you. Sly grin on his face. Older, handsome in a scruffy way that your friends always teased you for being into.

You craned your neck to look up at him from your barstool. He sure as hell had that going for him too.

“I dig your costume, Little Red.”

You smiled. “Thanks. Seems like I’m the only one here who got the memo that it’s Halloween.”

“Hell, Halloween is everyday for me,” he said.

“You got a name?”

“You can call me the Midnight Wolfman.” He threw his head back and bellowed out a howl.

Your eyes widened. Heart might’ve skipped a beat. 

Shouts and cheers punctuated the sound, a few of the bar patrons following his lead with weak howls of their own. 

He was probably crazy. Or drunk. Likely both. But fuck, why else would you have gone out on Halloween?

“Buy me a drink, Wolfman?” 

“Glad to, Red.” 

He sat down at the stool next to you, long legs splayed out as one of his boots rested between your heels on your footrest. He claimed your space so easily, you nearly forgot you’d only just met him.

Two shared shots of whiskey later, your face was warm as he leaned in to talk. His easy drawl lured you closer, knees touching, close enough that you could see yourself in his steel blue gaze. You nearly suggested finding a booth to squeeze into. 

Your mind raced with visions of him pulling you onto his lap, his big hands all over you, lips attached to your neck while the other bar patrons were none the wiser.

“Most people call me Foxy, though,” he said.

You furrowed your brows, hoping you hadn’t been fantasizing through too much of the conversation. “Foxy?”

“That’s my name. Winslow Foxworth Coltrane.”

“I like it. Sounds like an F. Scott Fitzgerald character or something.”

“Who’s that?”

“He wrote The Great Gatsby.”

“Oh yeah, I saw that one, had Redford in it. Kind of a snoozefest if you ask me. I mean, hard to follow up Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” he said. “What kind of movies are you into, Red?”

“I love horror, especially the gory shit,” you said before you could think twice. 

He grinned, giving you a nod of approval. “Right on.”

“My favorite is probably The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Have you seen that one?”

“Yeah, it was great. Reminds me of my family.”

You laughed. “No kidding.”

His smile wavered, and for the first time all night it felt like you two weren’t on the same wavelength. Had you missed something in your half-drunk stupor? Was there something he mentioned that you fantasized through?

“Um, how about you?” you asked, trying to salvage the connection. “Westerns?”

“I’m into the classics, like those old monster movies.”

“Well, you’re way more handsome than Lon Chaney, Wolfman.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m the real deal, baby.”

“I believe it.”

“Yeah?”

You licked your lips. “With a howl like yours? Makes a girl think you could eat her alive.”

“C’mere,” he growled, pulling you to him. 

His lips were on yours, wild and passionate that would keep you up the rest of the night even if nothing else happened. The way he had his hands on you, though, bringing you closer to him, deepening the kiss so you could taste the whiskey on his tongue, the very same he bought you, made you certain he wanted the night to end exactly the same way you did.

He pawed at your ass, his hands pushing up your short, red, satin skirt until your panties peaked out. You moaned when his fingers brushed the wet spot on the fabric, pushing against your clit. Fuck the notion of a getting busy in a back booth, you were ready to let him take you up against the bar if you weren’t so rudely interrupted.

“Hey, c’mon,” the bartender said, looking equally disturbed and exasperated. “You guys can’t—”

Foxy slammed his palm onto the bar, nearby glasses rattling on impact. “Motherfucker, if you don’t get out of my girl’s face I’ll crack your skull open.”

A smile twitched across your lips.

“Get out before I call the cops. Both of you.”

Foxy stood up. “Think I’m scared of some fuckin’ pigs?” Grabbed a nearby beer bottle and smashed it against the bar. Before you could blink, the jagged edge was pressed against the bartender’s throat. If anyone noticed what was going on, they sure as hell weren’t trying to intervene. “By the time they get here I could gut you like a fish.” 

A delirious thrill rolled down your spine at the gleam in Foxy’s eyes. 

“Look man, you—you don’t even have to pay for the drinks. Just go, alright?”

Deathly silence fell over the altercation, the bartender glancing between Foxy’s wild face and the broken bottle.

Do it, a dark, repressed part of you, ravenous for blood, hissed.

Foxy laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, man.” He threw his arm around you, letting the broken bottle shatter on the floor as he led you out.

“Don’t come back!”

“I wouldn’t shit here if I ate a gas station hot dog, asshole,” he shouted over his shoulder.

You pulled your polyester cloak a little tighter when you walked outside. Damn, you and Foxy probably looked like one hell of a pair to the people just getting to the bar.

The two of you stood in the middle of the parking lot while he lit a cigarette. “I don’t eat gas station hot dogs if I can help it. Give me indigestion. My ol’ man—well, adopted ol’ man—he used to make a mean fried chicken at his gas station,” he said, taking a drag. “Get a hankering for the stuff sometimes, and KFC sure as hell doesn’t cut it. Guess Colonel Sanders’ get-up is better than dressing like a clown, though.”

You interjected his rambling, “You would’ve done it, wouldn’t you? The bartender—”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.” He stared you down, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He took a long drag, smoke rolling from his lips and circling above his head as he asked, “You afraid of the big bad Wolfman, Red?”

“Terrified.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then show me.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Mine. Yours. I don’t know—I need you, Foxy.” Your voice neared a whine. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Say that again.”

“I need you.” You tugged on his shirt. “Foxy, c’mon.”

“Yours. I can’t drive at night for shit.”

You grabbed him by the arm, practically pulling him over to your car. 

Jamming the key into the lock, you couldn’t open the driver’s side door fast enough, quickly unlocking the passenger door for him. Your hands would’ve been shaking if you weren’t gripping the steering wheel within an inch of your life as you peeled out of the parking lot the moment he finished adjusting the seat, moving it as far back as it could go to accommodate his long legs. 

“Mind if I turn on the radio?” Foxy asked.

“Sure. I don’t live far, though. Should only be ten minutes.”

He fiddled with the stations until a late night news broadcast mentioned the name Otis Driftwood. He paused before sitting back.

“‘Free the Three’ demonstrations in support of the notorious Devil’s Rejects death cult continue well into the night.”

The reporter detailed the Fireflys’ crimes, as if anyone could have missed them. Hundreds of gruesome murders to their names. You, just like everyone else in America, had been glued to the story when it broke. All work practically came to a halt when their trials were going on, obvious guilty verdicts amidst a media circus.

“What do you think of ‘em?” Foxy asked, breaking the silence.

“The Fireflys?”

“Yeah.”

You glanced at him, tearing your eyes off the road for a moment to gauge how he’d react to your answer. “I guess what they did is fucked up, but the police and military have done way worse. Like, Otis Driftwood never dropped nukes on entire cities,” you said. “Why?”

“That’s my family.”

“Really?”

“Well, Otis is my half-brother. The rest of ‘em are all adopted.”

You looked at him again. Then the road. Then him in disbelief. “Then you—“

“Told you I was the real deal, sweetheart.”

“Why didn’t you get caught?”

“I was already in the can. Crazy how that shit happens, huh?”

You hit the gas, accelerating from 50 to 85 in a flash. No cops. Didn’t matter. Foxy could handle them if there were. You pressed your thighs together. Almost considered pulling over and just fucking in the backseat. But where was the fun in that? The excitement? The vulnerability of letting a killer into your home, where you’re supposed to be safe, and hoping to god he wouldn’t see your kitchen knives and get some bright ideas? You moaned. Oh god. You moaned.

“Red?”

“I know, Foxy. I’m going as fast as I can.” Your voice was whiny, high-pitched, desperate. “Piece of shit car—”

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re nuts.”

“Is that a turn off?”

“Hell no.”

——

You nearly dropped your keys by the time you unlocked the door to your apartment, Foxy feeling you up from behind while you fumbled with them, obviously amused by your racing pulse and trembling hands.

“Cool place,” he said when he walked inside. “You got any roommates or—”

You pushed him against the front door, your mouth on his, desperate, hungry for anything he’d give you. Slipping your hand between your bodies, you cupped the bulge in his jeans. He groaned into your mouth, and you squeezed gently, feeling his cock strain against the rough denim.

“Don’t tease,” he growled.

“It’s only teasing if you don’t follow through.” You kneeled in front of him, moving to untie your cloak while he unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans.

“Wait,” he said, “leave the costume on.”

“Whatever you want, Wolfman.”

He pulled his cock from his boxers, big enough to be intimidating at first glance. But he was a killer, part of the Firefly clan, for god's sake, you wouldn't falter, instead mustering up the courage you had to even invite him home in the first place.

“My, what a big cock you have,” you teased, taking it in your hand, spreading the precum at his tip with your thumb while slowly pumping his length.

“All the better to fuck that pretty mouth with, Red.”

You licked your lips, holding eye contact with him as you took him in your mouth. Something primal about him, inherently dangerous. He’d killed people before, probably done far worse. Could change his mind at any time and cause you a world of hell. You pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore the ache in your core for hopes he’d take care of it if you did a good enough job. With the way he dug his fingers into your scalp, loud curses and praises falling from his mouth, you weren’t doing half bad.

“Midnight Wolfman’s got you right where he wants you, huh, Red? Turned you into his little bitch?” he taunted. “C’mon, gimme a howl.”

You whined around his cock, choking a bit when he thrust in your mouth. You liked this version of the story a hell of a lot better. No one to save you. Just you, in your Little Red Riding Hood costume, and the wolf, his crooked teeth bared as he hissed through them, grinning down at you. And you brought him there. Invited him into your home knowing he could tear you apart if he wanted to—maybe you wanted him to.

“You’re a good slut, ain’t you?” He groaned. His cock twitched in your mouth, you could feel the salty taste of him on your tongue as he came with a howl. “Take it all, Red—fuck, take it.” As if you had much of a choice but to swallow, but his praise went to your head, to your pussy. “Fuck, you’re like a dream come true.”

Pulling back, sitting on your heels, you looked up at him with a newfound predatory gleam in your eye as he caught his breath.

“By the way,” you said, acutely aware of the wet ache between your thighs, “I live alone, if you wanna return the favor.”

[supercap2319]

How about a scenario where male reader is a sidekick to Steve named Lieutenant America whoes similar to how Bucky was in the comics originally, and him and Peter are sort of rivals with a lot of sexual tension between them.

"This will not stand, sir! I refuse to cooperate with that so-called hero.'" Y/N said as he paced around the room while his mentor, Steve, and Bucky watched him with amused smiles.

Y/N was Captain America's sidekick during World War II. He was known as Lieutenant America and went on many missions with Steve, Bucky, and the Howling Commandos before he was frozen in suspended animation like Steve. He awoke in modern-day New York and joined the Avengers in his red and blue costume and black mask. It's also how he met the most annoying person in the world. Peter. Benjamin. Parker. Better known as Spiderman from YouTube.

It was no secret that Steve and Tony were on opposite sides of things whenever their integraties were questioned, but they managed to make it work, unlike, Y/N and Peter, who fought and argued that it seemed like sexual tension.

"It'll stand, soldier." Steve smiles. "What have I told you? A good soldier works with all his friends and even his rivals."

"But that's just it, Cap. Peter Parker is an untrained loose cannon. He's just an overly emotional high and mighty pretty boy. I refuse to work with him on this mission." Y/N says.

"Yeah? I don't wanna work with you either, Stars and Gripes." They turned to see Peter in his Spiderman costume with a visible frown on his handsome face. "You think you know everything, Y/N. You should try loosing up."

"Yeah, it's all a big game to you, isn't it, Parker? I know soldiers worth ten of you. Real heroes. Not little boys playing dress up."

"Alright, you know what you pompous, arrogant, stick up the ass little shit." Peter got close to Y/N, and before anyone could throw the first punch, Steve and Bucky got in between and separated them.

[kuwdora]

Saturday Morning Vid Recs - Animals

@poetikat So I know you like cats.... This post started out as a recs list of cat vids. but then I realized there are a ton of other animal vids that you'll get a kick out of and so here I am, with another batch of goodies for you!

Cats!!

Hug Cats! by @rhea314 and @sandalwoodbox. Multi-source. Like…really multi-source! 😻😻😻😻 Cats cats cats cats cats.

Breaking the Habit by Isagel. My Cat From Hell. This vid will make you crack up, it’s amazing. I don't want to be the one the battles always choose.

Murder (Or a Heart Attack) by sisabet. New Girl. Parenting a cat, lmao. "Introducing the mouse-murderin', the heart burglarin', the king of the kennel, Furguson Michael Jordan Bishop!" --Winston Bishop

Happiness and Home by sternenschnuppendrachenschicksal. The Aristocats. ❤️❤️❤️ Home is where the heart is.

Doggos!

Send Me On My Way by @elipie. Wishbone. Wishbone!! the tv Wishbone! Wishbone in all the costumes and adorableness, this is so much love. We will run, we will crawl.

I'll Be There For You by @eruthros. Pit Bulls and Parolees. Animal rescue and love and hugs. "It's for more than three hundred pitbulls, the world's most misunderstood breed of dog; it's for parolees, the guys I hire because no one else will."

Dreams by eunice. Marley & Me. WARNING: The dog dies. This vid will ruin your soul. It’s full of SO MUCH LOVE. And grief. It’s fucking beautiful and ruinous. Tread with caution.

Puppy Love by cosmic_llin. Multi-source. PUPPIES!!!!! Dolly Parton music and PUPPIES.

They’re Good Dogs Brent by bessyboo, platinumvampyr. We Rate Dogs. This vid is pure joy. h*ckin good dogs.

Times Like These by eunice. All Dogs Go to Heaven. Eunice has a motif of killing dogs but this vid is a little more light. Times like these I learn to live again.

Dinosaurs, Penguins, Horses, Rats, Bears and Duckies, Oh my!

Stay Alive by milly. Land Before Time. Scroll down for the YouTube link on this page. This is another incredible animation throwback and full of so much heart. We'll do whatever just to stay alive.

Every Penguin Dance Now by Mr. Anderson. Happy Feet. Nobody was rocking the vidding dancefloor like Mr. Anderson’s editing back in the day. This vid is a 10000000% must-see.

Heart Alone by sasha_feather. Seabiscuit (2003). Found family! Horses!!!!

The Walker by @rhoboat77. Rataouille (2007). This vid is SO. FUCKING. CUTE. Don't miss this one!

Everything I Do by bironic. Cocaine Bear. Warning for drug use and brief implied bear injury, but this vid is not as graphic as the film. It is, however, extremely hilariously inappropriate laugh out loud funny. I can't help it. There's nothin' I want more.

1234 - A Bear Named Winnie by @kuwdora. A Bear Named Winnie (2004). This is slash vid with a bear at the heart of it all. A live action film based on the bear that inspired Winnie the Pooh. Two men go off to war and parent a bear cub. Oh, you're changing your heart. Scroll down in my vidpost to hear me scream about how this movie was made for me.

Somewhere Only We Know by @kiki-miserychic. Winnie the Pooh. This animated Pooh vid is SO sweet and wonderful! I had to run to the vidder to find a link to share since it's not on YouTube but well worth the download and viewing!

Rubber Duckie by krim. Taskmaster UK. This is so unbearably cute! A Taskmaster celebration of our little yellow friends!

Animals of the Sea

(You Drive Me) Crazy by @CherryIce. Sharknado. I cannot get through this vid without laugh crying. Please please please watch this vid and tell Cherry how much you laughed. Please, do it for me. Baby, I'm so into you.

A-ha by sol-se. Deep Blue Sea. This one makes me CACKLE and howl and slap my knees and also this song is so fucking good and just goddamn amazing. LL Cool J trying to kill a shark with a lighter. The way Solvi uses this song! Brilliant. Scientists experiment on sharks in an isolated ocean lab because that is a good idea. Thomas Jane is a shark wrangler, and LL Cool J is a cook with a parrot. Also, Samuel L. Jackson.

Float On by @such-heights. Finding Meno (2003). ❤️❤️❤️ We all float on, okay.

Selachimorpha by @CherryIce. Aquaman. ….There are not enough words, or any words for this vid. You have to see it for yourself. You will regret me earworming you by reccing this vid but it’s worth it for the hilarious perfection. I promise. Aquaman: Protector of the deep.

More cats!!

Cat Apostle, Conqueror of Asthma, Chosen One Of The Light (Vid) by Rhea. 开端 | Reset (TV 2022) This vid makes me clappyhands with glee. I have six cats.

Three by chaila. The Incredible Dr. Pol. Forever cackling about this adorable cat! Hip-hip-hooray for three!!!! 3 legs, 0 problems.

Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag by AbsoluteDestiny. Maru. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

cats…in Space! by niyalune. Multi-source. This vid will make you grin like a happy kitty lovin’ fool. Also A+++++ song choice. Featuring: pet cats, alien cats, evil cats, sexy cats, internet cats, a couple of lions, two litters of kitties, and one actual, real life space cat.

Previous Saturday Morning Vid Recs:

Space and Robots

Women!

Follow the tags to keep up with recs this summer:

#saturday morning vid recs

#kuwdora vid recs

#kuwdora recs

A help guide I wrote:

How to Leave Feedback on Fanvids

[howlingday]

A Brief History of Jaune

Jaune Arc is recognized by his own point on Rooster Teeth property RWBY, RWBY Chibi, RWBY: Ice Queendom, among others. Along together with Ruby Rose, Jaune Arc is additionally the siphoned leaver in this online web series, Lancaster.

Ruby: (Snickering)

Jaune: Space, period, no space.

Arc can be part of the secondary instrument team JNPR, as leader of Nora and Ren, along with Ruby Rose.

Ruby: I mean, kinda, yeah.

Jaune: ...Space, period, no space.

He is one of this temporary grouping argued as either Junior or Wrangler.

Ruby: WRANGLER?!

Together with Ren, Nora, and Ruby Rose. Jaune is made of Remnant and contains Remnant descent.

Ruby: (Cackling)

He is now twenty-three now years old.

Ruby: (Howling)

His Zodiac sign is Pisces. Arc is now a young child of father Nicholas Arc and mother Isabella Blanche.

Jaune: And then they decided to use.. Snrk! They used my pre-Beacon picture, which had to be taken right in the middle of the flight, so I look so airsick. That's... That's just hilarious.

Going back into his life, the multitalented man first landed on Remnant on February 29th.

Ruby: (Making spaceship noises)

His birth is Jaune Miles Arc. He has a younger brother named Patrick Arc who is a costume designer for "Entertainment Now!"

Jaune: That's not correct.

Arc was previously taken part in teams JNPR and JNRR.

Ruby: Taken part?!

Arc also taken part in notorious boy band legend Freely Vav of Achieve Men.

Ruby: (Laughing)

Jaune: ...I would have love meet Freely Vav. I have never met him in my life.

Arc has directly sexual orientation.

Jaune: Are... Are they trying to say I'm straight?

Ruby: (Choking for air)

Considering his body figures, Jaune Arc has sculpted muscle features and powerful body physique.

Ruby: Whoa~! Someone's thirsty~!

Arc is one man with a massive group of talent.

Jaune: (Nods)

Yang: Is that what you call it?

Jaune: It's very flattering, I'm not gonna lie. It's very sweet.

Arc stands in the elevation of five feet nine...

Jaune: Not correct.

...or one point eight and a half meters. His physique is strong..

Jaune: Probably also not correct.

The source of his body and weight dimension information are unknown.

Ruby: Whoa...

He has blue eyes along with his hair is blond. Connected to him using his Schneeter...

Jaune: Not true.

...also Scrollsgram.

Jaune: True.

His net worth is eight million as of six years ago.

Jaune: Not true. Cool.

Ruby: EIGHT MILLION?!

Jaune: I would have loved to have had eight million lien six years ago. That is, uh... I friggin wish. Like, where are they getting their information?

[andypantsx3]

confetti confessions | todoroki x reader

summary: “Shouto–?” you started, but you choked off as he suddenly shifted, leaning closer. It brought a tiny puff of some delicious cologne to your nose. “Hold still,” he intoned softly, his face drawing nearer. A wild thrill went through you, and the admission he’d just given you echoed loudly in your brain: “I am told I…kiss people.” This wasn’t–he wasn’t about to kiss you, was he?

tags: fem reader, birthday party, first kiss, slight misunderstanding, SFW

notes: Hello my loves! Please ignore how overwritten this is in some parts, and underwritten in others. I wanted to get it up in time for Shouto's birthday. I hope you enjoy it despite its condition!!

wc: 2.3k

The party was deafening.

Shouto’s apartment was stuffed with dozens of people, clamoring one on top of the other, armed with plastic cups and beer cans and little disposable shot glasses stamped with fire and ice emojis.

The space had been converted into something approximating a bar this evening, and festooned with absolutely heinous decor by Mina and several of the more enthusiastic former members of Class A until it was nearly unrecognizable. It was blanketed in red and white streamers, a riot of red and blue balloons, and hanging confetti poppers that people kept setting off anytime a new arrival walked through the door.

Almost all of the members of Class A were all accounted for, and they’d reeled in plenty of other friends and heroes besides. Some had taken the evening off, but you’d caught a great many in hero costume, too, dropping in for a beer on their way on or off a shift.

Mina had also produced a karaoke machine from somewhere, and you could hear it being put to highly creative use in the kitchen–-Mina and Kaminari serenading anyone who dared duck back in for a drink with a chorus of drunken wailing that only vaguely approximated a song you thought you might know.

They were so loud on top of the already voluminous chatter that you didn’t hear his approach, at first.

He dropped down onto the couch next to you, startling you so much that you almost sloshed your drink over your lap.

Which would have been a loss, considering the extreme amount of digging around in the various libations Kirishima had procured to find something even remotely above bottom-shelf. You’d learned that most pro heroes couldn’t afford to be picky, with the kinds of metabolisms they had and the sheer amount of liquor it took to get them drunk.

“Shouto,” you breathed out in relief, when you realized who’d sat down next to you.

Despite the sticky heat and the copious surprise confetti showers everyone had routinely been subjected to throughout the evening, the birthday boy himself looked just as inhumanly perfect as usual. His hair had been raked through with some kind of gel that you suspected was Camie’s doing, and he wore a pale blue button down that underlit his fading summer tan in the most horribly gorgeous way ever.

Not a single hair or stitch was out of place on him. The only real concessions to the fact that he’d been attending a party were the tiniest hint of a flush on his criminally high cheekbones, and a red plastic cup clutched in his long, unfairly pretty fingers.

“Happy birthday!” you said, happy to catch him for the first time since you’d gotten here, nearly an hour ago. You resisted the urge to smooth down your own dress, hoping you didn’t look too much of a try hard.

“Thank you,” he intoned, low and soft and barely perceptible over the sound of Mina and Kaminari’s howling. “I am…happy you could come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you promised him. If it had been anyone else, you might have preferred to retreat back to your own apartment after the kind of soul-sucking work week you’d had. But the very thought of seeing him always had your skin fizzing and your heart working double time.

You’d been nursing a crush on him for about a million years, and you were not about to miss his birthday.

A tiny smile pulled at his mouth, and he put an arm out over the top of the couch behind you, drawing in just a little bit closer to you. You clutched your drink tighter, like a protective talisman, as though Shouto was an obscenely persistent demon whose influence might be warded against.

“A Grammy-winning performance we’re hearing tonight,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. It was ostensibly vodka and some kind of juice, though you rather thought that the bartender–a smiling Kirishima–had taken significant liberties with the ingredients.

As if on cue, a third voice joined Mina and Kaminari, sweet and high but so uniquely detached from the appropriate key that you wondered if she’d ever even heard the song before–Ochako.

“Is that what we’re doing,” Shouto answered, tone bland. “Hearing. I rather thought we were...enduring.”

You laughed into your cup, almost inhaling the liquor when a huerrk! noise sounded in one the microphones like someone had snatched it, and an annoyed voice growled, “Oi, quit your fuckin’ caterwauling.”

“Some of us more gracefully than others, apparently,” you snickered.

Shouto’s unperturbed expression said it all.

“He offers very little grace, indeed,” Shouto said, taking a sip of his own drink. On the side, you saw a message spelled out in messy sharpie–FOR THE BIRTHDAY BOY! GIVE HIM MOSTLY JUICE, DO NOT LET HIM HAVE MORE THAN A SHOT AT A TIME!! It was followed by what looked to be a tally of how many shots he’d been poured already: three.

You suppressed a smile.

“You’re on a watch list, huh?” you asked, gesturing to the cup.

To your surprise, the dusting of pink on Shouto’s cheeks seemed to deepen. His mouth arranged itself into a little pout and he spun the cup in his fingers to reread the text to himself.

He seemed to contemplate it for a minute. And then he dropped a bombshell.

“I am told I am given to somewhat…amorous inclinations, if I drink too much too quickly.”

A shocked little thrill went up your spine even as you spluttered out an astonished laugh. “Amorous inclinations? Did you flash somebody??”

Shouto looked embarrassed, his long eyelashes fluttering. “I am told I…kiss people.”

Your interest fizzled like a bottle of newly-popped champagne. “You?” you asked incredulously. “The very man Hero Weekly described just last month as pro heroics’ most notoriously aloof ice prince?”

You knew he was nothing of the sort–altogether too kind and warm and thoughtful if you knew him at all–but a zoomed-in shot of the line in that article had done its rounds of all your group chats, and Class A had been milking it for weeks. Only two mornings ago, Kaminari had rolled a snowman in the snow outside his building and carved a set of abs into it, lobbing a photo of it into the discord with a “lookin good todoroki!!”

Shouto’s right ear appeared to be very pink against the white of his hair, and you found yourself transfixed.

“I have it from reputable sources,” he said.

You tried not to think about what the little flutter in your stomach meant when you thought of Shouto wanting to kiss someone. You pinched your leg just under the hem of your dress. Just because you had the world’s fattest crush on him did not mean you could have used those circumstances to your advantage.

You could be better than that.

“Well, I hope the sources enjoyed themselves,” you said, trying not to sound at all jealous.

Shouto turned his most strategically bland look on you, and you laughed.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t kiss and tell,” you said, smiling.

“You are making fun of me,” Shouto said. His full mouth pulled into another pout and you thought you might be having heart palpitations at how cute he was. That or your drink was getting to you.

You couldn’t help the way your grin softened. “Gotta get my licks in where I can, you’re otherwise way too perfect.”

That seemed to give him pause, however. A white eyebrow raised, and he stared at you for a moment, those mismatched eyes picking over you in surprise. You realized quickly that you’d maybe been a little too complimentary. “Well–I mean—you know. You’re nice and…heroic, and stuff…”

“Heroic and stuff,” he echoed, his tone dry.

You nudged him with the toe of your boot, a rebuff, but Shouto just shifted again, leaning in conspiratorially. Your heartbeat spiked as the angle brought his profile further into view. You tried not to stare at the way his open collar framed the strong lines of his throat.

“I am a pro hero,” Shouto said with zero inflection.

You could tell he’d flipped the tables on you, then, and was poking fun at you with his usual customary blandness so many people took for aloofness.

“Well then congrats on meeting your job criteria,” you said, trying to sound normal. “Our city can sleep safe.”

Shouto’s mouth twitched, the hint of a smile pressing at the corner. You suppressed the little lick of pleasure that went through you at having made him smile, ducking your head.

When you looked up, however, Shouto’s expression had changed. His mouth had slackened, and he was looking at you with a renewed focus, his eyes curious.

You froze–unsure what had just changed.

“Shouto–?” you started, but you choked off as he suddenly shifted, leaning closer. It brought a tiny puff of some delicious cologne to your nose.

“Hold still,” he intoned softly, his face drawing nearer.

A wild thrill went through you, and the admission he’d just given you echoed loudly in your brain: “I am told I…kiss people.”

This wasn’t–he wasn’t about to kiss you, was he?

But he drew even closer, his expression intent, and you couldn’t see what else he could possibly be doing. Your heartbeat picked up. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you took in a deep breath, feeling all of your focus concentrate on your mouth.

You waited. Exhaled a shaky breath–

And then long fingers touched the hair at the side of your head, and you felt a soft tug.

Your eyes shot open only to see Shouto’s hand retreating, something golden and glittery clutched in his fingers.

“You had confetti in your hair,” he said.

Mortification speared you, and you couldn’t help the horrified flush that rose to your face.

Confetti.

He had been leaning in for fucking confetti!

You were an idiot!

“Oh my god,” you choked, trying to stifle your embarrassment. But it was too late. Shouto glanced down at you, and his features grew concerned.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone growing urgent. “Are you well? Is something the matter?”

“Nothing!” you said quickly, flapping your hand. “Uh, thanks for getting that!” Your voice came out strangled however, the least convincing tone ever, and you could tell it registered falsely in his ears.

“Have I done something?” Shouto ventured.

“No–it’s not you–” you said.

Of course he hadn’t done anything! It had been you, suddenly off balanced by his unexpected admission, basically desperate to imagine any scrap of his affection! But he’d never even given a hint that he felt anything more than friendship for you.

“Then you–?” he murmured, his brow furrowing. It took a long moment, his expression puzzled. But then you watched with some horror as it dawned on him. His features went smooth and clear.

“You thought I was going to kiss you,” he said. Like he was stating an inarguable fact, the color of the sky or the grass.

His tone was once again horribly bland. Only this time it wasn’t anything to laugh at. This time it was like an arrow through your chest.

“I–no–well, yes, but I–” you floundered. “I didn’t, um, obviously you haven’t had enough drinks. Not that I would expect it anyway. It’s just that you said that thing and it was…in my head…”

“You thought I was going to kiss you and you…accepted it,” Shouto continued, as though he hadn’t heard you.

You cringed. Yes. You had all but puckered up for it.

“Y/N,” he said, and there was a note of something soft in his low voice. You did not like where this was going. “Did you…want me to kiss you?”

“I never want you to do something you don’t want to!” you rushed to reassure him.

But Shouto’s eyebrows just rose, and he leaned towards you again, those mismatched eyes going just a little bit wider. “I don’t believe that’s a no.”

You couldn’t have produced an answer if you tried. You just stared at him helplessly, heart pounding.

“And if I…did want to kiss you?” he asked finally.

You gaped, the question short-circuiting your brain. Maybe Kirishima had put a little something too much in your drink. Like a hallucinogenic or like, lead paint.

“You…kiss me–” you garbled out, your voice strangled.

Like that had been some kind of confirmation code, Shouto’s mouth quirked, and his face dipped nearer to yours again. “I’d like to kiss you,” he said.

You made the most embarrassing sound of your life.

But then his mouth was on yours. It was warm and soft and utterly perfect, just as devastatingly good as you might have pictured. Shouto tasted like his drink, sharp sake and some kind of fruit juice, and he kissed slow and sure, in a way that made lightning zing through your veins.

You were utterly certain you would never forget this moment for your entire life.

“Is it your birthday or mine,” you wondered stupidly when Shouto finally drew away. You could feel the huff of his laugh on your lips.

You opened your eyes to see him watching you closely, a wry little curl back at the side of his mouth.

“Definitely mine,” he decided, placing his cup on the coffee table in front of you. “The loveliest gift I have ever been given.”

Another hot flush crept down your chest. You smiled at him, feeling bubbly and giddy and stupid. Shouto reached out, tugging your cup from your fingers too, and then leaned back in to put his mouth close to yours again.

“I have been hoping for this particular gift for a very long time,” he said. “Perhaps you might indulge me with one more?”

You couldn’t believe this was real. You leaned in, grinning like an idiot.

And then you gave him the first of many more–your confetti still clutched in his fingers.

[vseshlo]

Hello! thanks for your good words about my HMC art💜 I read many cool things, it`s really supporting... so I made a funny thing for us✨ PRINT FILE

I think .pdf is better than other versions

[ralixx]

p3reload brainworms were too strong.... Spends days making Alpharad fight shadows all night during the freak hour🤔🤨

(open to see the other concept drawings)

S.E.E.S outfit

They like leaving the top button opened so I made sure to add that lil detail. I can't really think of what weapon Jacob might like and my first thought was their DnD oc so axe it is. I think I could give a shortsword too

Persona concepts - I made two since Alpharad and Jacob are two different people so, to me, it makes sense they'll have two primary personas depending on their situation

1.) Icarus (Sun Arcana)

- I think this one is obvious..... I didn't think much about it besides trying to make Icarus have the Nintendo switch joycon theme since their channel is mostly Nintendo. I wanted to emphasize the Icarus complex part with the nice long hair and having the mouth opened. Blue top because their favorite color is blue.

2.) Howl (Moon Arcana)

- I think i have a lot to say about my thought process for this one but Howl Pendragon inspiration was because of their Howl costume during their birthday😭 ok but if I sit and think hard on what kind of person Jacob is, my first thought was "they wear their heart on their sleeve" - it's kinda what I noticed after watching the Google Play live and seeing them in person during Scribbles After Dark when Ross couldn't make it. Especially during the show - I know they were all following a script but my gut feeling keeps saying Jacob seemed nervous😭 but they're experienced in hosting and doing shows so it probably wasn't something a lot of people noticed. My idea was that the persona acts all flamboyant or like an entertainer or something but because, I think, Jacob's emotions is easily shown on their face (or to be specific, their eyes) I made the chest area stand out and tried going for a water theme to signify emotions. If I could, I would animate the chest area but I don't have a lot of time for that

That's pretty much the drawings I have I was so fixated on the idea I drew too much in two days and now my wrist is making popping noises :'D

[justins-1-justan]

Doing spooky activities with total drama characters!

It's spooky season! ^=^

Dj!

Horror movies?

Hahahahah. No ♡

You both stay in and cuddle while watching the Simpsons Halloween specials while eating candy.

You also wear matching halloween pajamas!

The moon has long been in the sky this Halloween, younger trick or treaters had already gone home and the older ones which stayed were met by the cold autumn breeze. But bundled up in soft throw blankets, wrapped in each other's arms as the fire roars, is you and Dj. An old episode plays, you feel your eyelids grow heavy, you rest your head against DJ's shoulder as you slowly drift off to sleep.

Geoff.

You can probably already guess,

Of course you're both going to a Halloween party, if not throwing one yourselves!

Matching costumes!! This year you're the grim reaper and a ghost! Geoff is the ghost & you're the reaper ofc!

Laughter, music, and a cheerful energy paints the party. The flashing lights reflect in his blue eyes, he twirls you as the monster mash booms on the speakers. The two of you party all night, for a holiday that's supposed to be scary, it made such joyful memories.

Izzy!

You both scare the daylights out of trick or treaters.

Your job was to stand on the porch with the candy bowl, candy bowl which is filled with fun sized candy bars disguised as full sized ones.

Izzy's idea of course.

Meanwhile Izzy would hide in the bushes in her 'franken-izzy' costume waiting to jump out at trick or treaters.

You successfully made six kids, three teenagers, and one adult man cry. Congrats?

From your peripheral vision you can see a child in the horizon approaching, you stand in position on the porch. The child, dressed like a minion, steps onto the porch. Per Izzy's instructions you hand them the 'full sized' candy bar. They smile happily and thank you and then.... "BOOOO!!" Izzy yells out at the child. After causing the child to subsequently drop their candy, earning a glare from the child's parents, Izzy practically dies of laughter while holding onto your shoulder.

Scott.

Hehehahaha, he took you a grave yard.

Yep.

A grave yard.

The scheme is that you'll get so scared you'll fall into his arms.

.. Let's just say that doesn't go as planned.

The moon shines brightly down upon you and Scott walking hand in hand in this abandoned graveyard. Boredom creeping over you, an idea dawns. Holding back giggles, you loudly let out a piercing howl like scream, causing Scott to quickly jump and whip his head back towards you. He glares at you and let's go of your hand when he realizes you're fine, he continues the pace of walking you were formerly at, you quickly chase after him and grab his hand, giggling with murmurs of apologies.

Area fifty~one alien Cody~Clone from S3 EP15 & briefly S5 EP7!

Breaking him out of area 51 for the holiday wasn't as difficult as you would think!

After convincing the guards you were a trick or treater, they left to go grab something to give you, then you simply walked to where he was being held and busted him out.

Since he had been in a government facility for years, he's never seen a scary movie before! Oh no!

So you decided to take him to the local AMC and see the latest horror movie.

You bought him popcorn and a slushie.

The two of you sat in your seats, interlocking your hands as their movie starts. The first jump scare happens and instinctively, you grip his hand tighter. Only to hear him let out a whaling scream. You turn towards him and your face pales as your boyfriend's arm turn completely into green goop.

Bridgette!

You both go pumpkin carving!

She carves a sailboat meanwhile you carve a classic jack o' lantern.

More matching costumes!! She dresses as a mermaid meanwhile you're a prince/princess!

The smell of pumpkin surrounds the kitchen you are both sat on the floor of, you look up from carving your pumpkin to see Bridgette dead focus on carving the perfect pumpkin, to the point she doesn't notice the pumpkin guts on her cheek. Giggling to yourself you wait for the next time she's turning her pumpkin around to scoot closer to her. You wipe the pumpkin guts off of her cheek, she turns her attention towards you for a brief second and you take the opportunity to sweetly kiss her cheek. Successfully catching her off gaurd.

[violettduchess]

Welcome back, Violett!! 💖 For the ikepri halloween costume challenge, may I request Chevalier + devil + spooky? 🤗 Hope you have a lovely week! 🥰

A/N: Here you are @skiagrafia! I really enjoyed this! I was inspired by a short story by Tumblr legend Neil Gaiman called "Other People." You can read it here

Chevalier x Reader

WC: 900

The wooden bench in the church is rough to the touch. The end of it is splintered and there are scratches in the wood of the pew in front of you. A shudder runs through your body as you wonder how they got there. They’re too small to be from any wild animal. Certainly too shallow to be a bear or anything like that.

In the distance, you hear a lone cry, a faint howl that momentarily chases away the silence of the church like a broom violently scattering cobwebs. But outside the windows there is only gray, a gloom that seems to have wrapped itself around the small building in the middle of the woods. It's latched onto the peeling paint and loose nails and clings, territorial.

You nervously pull at a hangnail on your index finger, pull until it comes right off, taking a sliver of skin with it. You frown as you stare at the angry red stripe on your finger. That should hurt. It doesn’t.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance back at the church's double doors. They are as scratched as the pews and look somehow heavier than they should. The iron hinges are shaped like tridents, their points wickedly sharp for something decorative. Uncomfortable, you turn away again, smoothing down the folds of your white skirt.

You know you’re meant to wait. But for what….?

You can’t quite remember. It’s that elusive scratching at your mind when you know that you know something but can’t for the life of you call it forth.

The howling sound breaks the silence again.

This time it is louder. Closer.

You pull on the ends of your sleeves, curling your fingers inwards to clutch the white material.

In front of you, the altar is cracked, a jagged line like black lighting running through the stone. The cross on the wall above it hangs crooked, as if it is considering letting go, allowing the fall to the tiled floor to do what it will.

A loud whooshing sound pulls your attention back to the church entrance. The wooden doors have opened and in steps the most beautiful man you have ever seen. Dressed from head to toe in pristine white, broad of shoulder, long of leg with a face that could make a person weep at its classical perfection. His hair is pale as bone and rising from his head are twin horns of curling onyx. Striking as all this is, it's his eyes which catch you attention the most, a piercing blue the color of cruel frost, of endless frozen skies. When he fixes his gaze directly upon you, it feels as if winter itself is blowing through your bones, sending a corkscrew of cold fear straight through your body.

He stops walking and looks down at you, where you are sitting on the pew bench, his expression smooth as polished glass.

“We must go.”

His voice sends another rush of cold through you and you feel yourself starting to shiver. You glance at the church doors, now wide open. All you can see is gray gloom. Impenetrable. Suffocating.

“Where?” How your voice shakes, how small it sounds.

Again a howl pierces the church. It is louder now than before.

The window panes of the church tremble.

His gaze remains steady, although there is now a glint of something in his eyes. Something sharp and bright.

“You know.”

You rise to your feet on legs that feel numb. The man starts back down the aisle, then turns when he sees the way you grip each wooden pew you pass, your body tilting like a willow in a violent storm. The grip of your fingers is so strong, your nails dig little half-moon crescents into the wood.

He pauses, waiting for you to catch up and then takes hold of your arm. Despite the black gloves, his touch feels as hard and cold as frozen iron. The cold rushes through you and you can barely walk for all of your quivering.

You are almost at the open doors, at the mouth of all that opaque gray.

“W-w-what’s out there?” Your voice is barely a whisper, a wisp of smoke on the precipice of fading.

You’ve reached the doorway; his hand is still on your arm. He turns his head, looking down at you with those eyes of the most unearthly, startling blue.

“Nothing,” he answers. “Absolutely nothing.”

And then he slings you forward, forcing you into the gray. A flap of your white skirt. The white of your wide eyes. And then you are gone, utterly and completely, swallowed by the nothing. No trace of you left except the frightened marks of your fingernails in the scarred wood of the pew.

He reaches down, tugging once on the edge of his black glove, making it fit perfectly again. He turns his artic gaze towards the gloom. A second later there is a rush of wind, a burst of turbulent energy that continues its howling as it enters the church. It shakes the windows, jostles the crooked cross on the wall, skims the broken altar before growing still.

Slowly a figure fades into view, another lost soul slumped forward in the wooden pew. It will need time before it awakens, notices its surroundings.

Just like you did.

Just like they all do.

And when it does, he’ll be there.

Silently as fog he steps outside the church, closing the heavy wooden doors behind him.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381 @bubblexly @ozalysss @ikesimpleton

[tlbodine]

Overthinking: The Haunted Mask

Here it is, kids, the book that started it all (for me).

The Haunted Mask is Goosebumps #11, coming out in September of 1993. I was seven years old and had never read a proper chapter book before - I was transitioning from picture books to those longer picture books, you know the ones? I was already a fan of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark but had never read a long, single narrative work.

So imagine my delight when I found a long book that was scary! I devoured it. I'd go on to read more ambitious books over the next year or so, becoming an all-out obsessive reader by my tweens, but in so many ways this was the book that started everything for me -- a love of reading, a love of horror, a love of writing and storytelling.

So is it my favorite Goosebumps ever? The best? The scariest? Ehhhh.

Let's overthink it.

First, the Plot: Carly-Beth is 11 years old and easy to scare. Her friends can't help themselves from pranking her all the time because of her reactions -- she shrieks, she freaks out, she jumps. You know the type.

Halloween is coming up, and Carly-Beth has already been pranked several times by her pals Chuck and Steve, whose jokes are getting frankly mean-spirited. They put a worm in her sandwich. They make her so panicky about an escaped tarantula that she makes a scene in front of the whole class and ruins her project at science fair. She vows that she's going to get them back real good with the scariest costume she can muster.

Unfortunately, her mom has other ideas. It's ambiguous whether Carly-Beth's dad is in the picture (there's a line about him being on the phone from Chicago, but it's not clear if he's there on business or if they're separated) but Carly-Beth's mom is loving and attentive. She hand-sews her daughter a duck costume and made a plaster of paris perfect replica of her head in an art class. It's freaky, but made from a place of love.

After being jump-scared by her brother Noah (no, not Lefty, a different Noah) dressing in her duck costume, Carly-Beth has HAD IT with these motherfucking pranks in on this motherfucking plane. So she goes to a party store to buy the scariest mask she can.

The shopkeeper is a weird, very serious, creepy kind of fellow who's trying really hard to sell her a gorilla mask. There's an easter egg of an "alien mask with blue hair" that I think is a reference to the bus driver's mask in Welcome to Camp Nightmare. But they're not scary enough, so she goes into the back room and finds a whole shelf of grotesque faces. She plucks one green mask with pointy ears and a gaping mouth of fangs off the shelf and decides it's perfect. The shopkeeper doesn't want to sell it to her, protesting that it's too scary, but she wears him down.

At home, she puts in on to scare Noah and succeeds in freaking him out, in large part because as soon as she puts it on, her voice changes into a low growl. She struggles to remove the mask at first but gets out just fine and gets ready for Halloween.

As a fun touch, she grabs her plaster of paris head and puts it on the end of a broomstick, essentially cosplaying as the monster that ate herself and carries her old face on a pike. Cool.

Anyway, she meets up with her BFF Sabrina to go trick-or-treating, and Carly-Beth is....a little different. She keeps scaring people, and she likes it. She feels this quiet swell of rage and this animal desire to run and howl and bite. It's empowering. It feels so good.

She manages to scare Chuck and Steve, and all three of them are certain they saw her plaster head blink and beg them to help. They take off running, Carly-Beth convinces herself she imagined it, and she meets back up with Sabrina. They go home to count candy and realize....oh no! She can't get the mask off!

They tug at it from all angles before realizing that there is no seam between the mask and her neck. It's like it's become her real head.

Carly-Beth flees to the party store, where she again talks to the shopkeeper and learns that these aren't masks but real faces (?) that he created in a laboratory (??) and which used to be normal but now are grotesque monsters (???). The only way to get the mask off is with a symbol of love, but this trick will only work once. If it's ever worn again, it'll permanently become your face.

All the other masks wake up and start to chase her, floating after her as she runs down the block in search of the plaster head she previously discarded. Symbol of love, right? She finally locates it, brandishes it at the floating heads, then rams it over her head (somehow) and...it works! She's free! The masks disappear and she takes the one off her face and returns home to a concerned mom who wants to hear her whole story (and is actually going to listen).

All's well that ends well, except for Noah, who picks up her discarded mask...and puts it on.

Overthinking It: I had quite honestly forgotten most of the third act of this book. The "scientific" explanation for the masks is pretty goofy, and not the first time Stine has put a mad scientist behind a supernatural phenomenon (hi, Spidey the camera-scientist). I wonder if part of the motive is in softening the edges of the scariest horror stuff -- like maybe it's somehow less terrifying if a thing is fake-science than if you have to grapple with the metaphysical implications of curses and hauntings -- but at the same time we have other literal curses and hauntings all over the place so maybe it's just a weird affectation.

Regardless - the backstory for the masks is weird and doesn't make a lot of sense when you hold it to scrutiny, but that's not really why anybody cares about The Haunted Mask. The power of this particular story lies in the strength of the inner conflict, and how utterly relatable it is.

Allow me to illustrate with a meme:

Carly-Beth is under the influence of the mask...or is she? Her wild desire to howl and destroy...is that the mask making her act that way, or is she just finally free to act on her heart's darkest desires? Does she know the difference?

The mask affords anonymity. It's protective armor against the world. In a mask, you can be anyone. But you still have to live with yourself, even if the world doesn't know who you are -- and that's ultimately the struggle at the heart of The Haunted Mask. Carly-Beth has the opportunity to be someone else, gets a real taste of it, and it frightens her....because that version of her existed inside her all along.

That the mask can only be defeated with a symbol of love is a thoroughly on-the-nose metaphor, but it works here. It helps that Carly-Beth's mom is one of the best moms in the series. She's loving, patient, attentive, and actually wants to listen and believe her kid.

I may have forgotten most of the third act, but I have remembered for 30 years the first scene in the party store, looking at those masks, their frightening designs, the care with which they're described. I remember visiting Halloween stores (well before Spirit Halloween became a cultural icon) and feeling a kind of longing hopefulness that maybe there was a secret back room with the really scary masks in it.

Because, you know...maybe the thing is that Carly-Beth isn't the only person who kind of, deep down, secretly, just wants to go ape shit.

If You Liked This, THESE Will Really Give You Goosebumps:

Fun fact: Jim Carrey's The Mask wrapped up filming a month after this Goosebumps book was published. I doubt the two properties had much to do with one another, but it's pretty wild that two stories about a green mask that transforms you into a monster and influences your behavior would come out so close together.

Of course, the OG template for The Haunted Mask is Robert Louis Stevenson's Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, in which a doctor discovers a way to separate himself into two entities -- and his darker half gets away from him. The idea of dual identities and masking behavior is, uh, probably as old as humanity itself, but Stevenson's work put language to it that we still use today.

For a different take on the idea of a costume that transforms its wearer, see Clown (2014). There are also undeniable similarities to the Marvel villain The Green Goblin -- watch him in action in Spider-Man (2002).

Also, bonus points - this isn't scary, but it is funny and poignant and basically the same story as the Goosebumps book.

[casualwriters]

"Best friends" | Richie Valdovinos x reader

summary - After the Accident at the Halloween party you find Richie upset at the beach and you comfort him not figuring out he used to have a crush on you growing up as next-store neighbors.

Warning- none

- All the gifs go to the right full owners support them pls 💗

SPOILERS FOR RISE OF PINK LADIES EPISOSE 5

Falling on the ground as the emergency alarm howls in the light, next to you was Hazel and Wally, "Are you okay!" You dropped your arms from covering Hazel, she nodded towards you and Wally. "You okay Y/n," Wally asked you nodding then looking out the window to see fireworks, "fireworks?" You said to the two of them who were watching them with you

"I have to go," you say to the other two trying to find your friends, as you bolted out of the party, everyone was leaving thinking this was the real war coming but it was some stupid prank. Stepping outside you saw Jane and Richie, arguing "What is going on" you whisper running into Richie who already turned around on Jane. His face was sad and disappointed maybe because of Jane, you and Richie grew up together childhood best friend Olivia and him, but all three of you grew out of touch when you hit high school,

the cliches and being a Square or a Greeser you guys grew apart and you regretted that seeing Richie looking at you a smile came across your face "i have a place that cheer you up" saying to him Richie Scoffed "Doll i don't think the Frosty Palace, will cheer me up" he scoffs. Punching his shoulder you glared at him snagging Gill Keys from the tire "not there" you laughed twirling the keys around your index fingers "i show you". The car ride was quiet for the time of driving to the beach not far from you and Richie neighborhood it was a peaceful drive the radio was playing some Blues music that was popular for the time parking the car on the beach you looked at him he was smiling

"Wow doll dame i haven't been here in forever." Chuckling "since all of us were twelve" Both of you remembered the memories " oh man don't forget when i dump both you in the water! " Folding your arms annoyed " Richie Valdovinos! I had water in my ears for a week! " He shrugs " good you couldn't hear Oliva blabbing away" laughing " oh be nice,

"what happened tonight Rich " you asked him. Richie always appreciates you cutting to the chase and being straight up with him, it was one of the things he missed about you.

"Jane only cares about this fucking Election, i am like a dog she calls whenever i am relevant" Listening to him you Knew Jane She was such a sweet girl but throughout the weeks and dealing, with the election she wasn't the same girl!" he kicked the front of the car "and I saw her and Buddy, all cuddling She made a fool out of me Y/n!"

"Rich hey ever she did you don't know her side of it, you can't just jump the gun" Richie knew you were right, you were always right mending fights with him and Olivia, or separating conflict or fights. "I know, I know he looked over to see your hands covering your costume like you were cold he frowned and said.

"Here" he shakes off his T-Bird Jacket and drapes it over your shoulder. "but" he scoffs " No Buts or If's" he says "why did you give this to me wouldn't you rather, give it to Jane." he chuckled "I tried you were my second choice" he grins grabbing his Comb and brushing the strands of hair out of his face. "What do you mean by that?" you said your cheeks were flushing red right now. Richie looked over "it so stupid how clueless you were when we were younger "

"I had a crush on you a y/n" he chuckled putting the comb back in its rightful place. You stayed quiet listening to him talking it wasn't just one sided you thought to yourself.

"but I knew you were too good for me, sweet and caring that's why we stopped talking well, till tonight, what made me happy was even. When we were in a different, clicks or friend group you saw me upset and still wanted to check up on me, doll ." "it what I do" you smile at him "it wasn't one sided" you said to him, causing him to laugh nervously "oh all right" he saw you yawning has he chuckled " want me to drive, you home Princessa" nodding " yes please".

The drive back was laughing and talking just trying to catch up and make Richie's night better, he pulled into your driveway and smiled "See you later alright" You opened the door and got out

"only if you're lucky,"

you say to him he started the car up and drove away hoping, this could happen again.