#scarecrow woody

[nightjars-nest-art]

"Howdy, stranger. Would you kindly give me a hand and put me down from here?"

I just couldn't miss this train, sorry 😭 Based on figurines are below, Jessie's design is partly inspired by an awesome art by @forlovewithyou ❤

[pinkdean]

Anyway this song is sooooo Sam Supernatural

[puppyboymikeyway]

little mcr things in songs that i would drop to my knees for

THE GUITAR AT THE BEGINNING OF DISENCHANTED

ITS SO SWEET

'GET. UP. COWARD.'

'run run bunny run' in scarecrow and how it gradually gets louder until gerard is yelling

UHM?? MIKEYS LITTLE 'FUCKIN READY' IN VAMPIRE MONEY?? LIKE BBG PLEASE GIVE US MORE??

the start of kiss the ring?? like?? perfection??

the sweet little guitar part in demolition lovers at the start like go ray! play your silly little riff!

the bassline to planetary(go!)(i have never once called this song just 'planetary'. its always been planetary go to me) is super funky and i absolutely love it. and i remember mikey saying how that was the hardest bassline that hes played or stage or smt like that<3

THE SILLY LITTLE COWBOY THEME AT THE START OF HANG EM HIGH?? LIKE?? I LOVE IT BUT WHY??

that silly riff during dead! that sounds like woody the woodpecker

8 bitter years - 9 bitter years - 10 FUCKING YEARS

romance. all of it. fuck you if you dont like romance. i would die for this little thing

'dO YOU HAVE THE KEYS TO THE HOTEL-'

the peppy little drums at the start of cemetery drive

'sosendmyresignationtothebrideandthegroom'

'hair bACK, MOTHERFUCKER'

THE INTRO TO GIVE EM HELL KID WHERE ITS JUST MIKEY PLAYING AND YOU CAN REALLY HEAR THE BASSLINE. SHIVERS, BRO

also the bassline to headfirst for halos?? and the guitar at the start?? like i love this song too much??

at this point just bullets. all of it. the entire album. so underrated tbh. fuck anyone who doesnt like bullets

'YOU SHOULDVE RAISED A BABYGIRL I SHOULDVE BEEN A BETTER SON' absolute trans anthem right here, folks

the piano throughout blood is just so happy for no reason like hun, this is not the song for this-

the little 'ooooooooo's in all the angels

the howling in house of wolves??? like it fits so perfectly, guys(ive been informed its not howling??? at the beginning?? am i going crazy??)

'so shut your eyyyyess kiss me goodbyeeee and SLEEEEEEEEEEEPP' 10/10

i will never not love the guitar at the start of na na na and it sucks that the only version you can hear it alone and more isolated is the version off of mdnsy but thank god we at least have that version. i love the lil riff at the start<3

the kids from yesterday. all of it. the electro-themed start and then the sNARE- PHMYGOD GUYS. PLEASE DO NOT OVERLOOK THIS SONG

'from the earth to the morgue morgue morgue MOOOOOOOORRRRRRRGUE WELL TONIIIIGHT WILL IT EVER COOOME?'

ray and franks backing vocals during planetary!! the little wooahs! i love them!<3

the drums at the beginning of burn bright??

the way gerard sings television in boy division like 'teLAviSION'

'well it better be BLACK and it better be TIGHT and it better be JUST. MY. SIZE. - well it better be WHITE and it better be CUT and it better be JUST. MY. SIZE.'

WE DONT NEED ANOTHER SONG ABOUT CALIFORNIA. ALL OF IT. I LOVE THAT SONG AND NO ONE TALKS ABOUT IT.

'STOP AND STARE AT THE ACCIDENTS AND STARS THAT BORE YOU'

THATS MY FAVORITE MCR LYRIC GUYS

'louder than gods revolver and TWICE AS SHINY'

okay wait this list was longer than i intended but reblog with your favorite little snippets of mcr songs!!(i keep updating this i need to stop)(i updated it again help)(yet again another update for grammar)

[definitionsfading]

I think it's fair to hate Marty when you first watch S1 of true detective but to let that performance go without due credit to Woody Harrelson for what he so effortlessly did as a foil to Rust's aluminum and ash, never been anything here but jungle, I can smell the psychosphere shtick, is sooooooooooo basic lol

the people who hate Marty, but can't quite really hate Marty because they identify pieces of him as incredibly relatable and human despite all his many flaws, are the folks who are viewing his character and that acting performance with their full brain

I get Rust is everyone's baby girl but Woody deserves better from fandom than what he gets, and Rust would NOT have worked the same way without Marty there to balance his sentient wooden scarecrow countenance

[hushhushchild]

Day 1 - Marking Territory

Your feet crunch through the leaf litter below. The days are winnowing smaller and the wind loses its warmth. As the town’s apothecary, you have exactly one role - keep the people healthy. After a sudden outbreak of gnoll flu struck your small town, your stock of rosemary was running dangerously low… and it can only be found in the deep woods.

Those dark, decrepit woods. Those which seem to swallow up life itself. Those branches who reach out at anything which goes near. And by the gods - the scarecrows. Yes, those crude hay effigies which guard the perimeter of what you term ‘deep woods’. Your spine trembles whenever you go near them, and right now is no different. Your fists clutch tighter onto your foraging pack, and you push past that invisible barrier the scarecrows demark.

As soon as your boot plants itself into the crisp underbrush, the various sounds of the forest flee. Chirping of birds, rushing of winds, every ounce of it. The silence ensues like darkness, after a candle was blown out. All that remains? The huffing of your breath, and the crunching of the leaves. Here and there, you pluck the patches of rosemary.

Those gorgeous purple blooms quickly begin to burst your pack at the seams. The ground seems overflowing wherever you glance– you can’t just leave good product behind–

Oh. It’s night now. You look up from the heaping bundle, seeing nothing but the pale light of the moon. Your mind must have wandered away in the monotony… right? You’ll simply head back to your house - but which way was it? Over there, you recognize a tree you passed… but over here, there’s a rock you almost tripped over…

…

You’re lost. Stuck within the bowels of the forest. With nothing but rosemary – only rosemary, poking around every corner and shrub. It’s choking the forest, and you along with it. You run. You run as far and as fast as your aching legs and burning lungs can take you. Until you finally collapse, in a heap in the blooms.

The leaves rustle behind you. Twigs snap, branches twist, trunks creak. You can’t even look at the disturbance before it’s upon you. A long, clawed presence ensnares your torso, ripping you off the ground. Immediately, you smell the thing first. Floral. Woody. As if you condensed the forest into a sweet perfume. Mere inches from your face lies deep, forboding eyes. Sharp antlers. Gaunt cheekbones, mossy skin. Like a corpse, reclaimed by the woods. The more you stare at the figure, the more you recognize it’s once-womanly-features.

A dryad. Or some warped, twisted form thereof. “Such greed,” it hisses, “in such a small form. I trusted you, you know. I believed the sweet lie of you only taking what you needed. Because I trusted you… foolishly. But you finally snapped. Started taking all your greedy, fleshy hands could clasp around. Such damage is nigh-irreparable.”

“N-nigh?” Your voice squeaks. A meek whisper. The chittering of a rodent before a hawk.

“Yes… nigh. For it can be repaired, human. Through… payment, the forest may heal. It’s a dire, dire cost. But a necessary one. Pay it, or your bones will be fertilizer.”

You stare ahead blankly. Your coffers aren’t exactly lined with gold — a dire cost is out of the question. You open your mouth, but a thorny claw closes your mouth shut.

“Your soul. Through the form of a contract, you would bequeath it to the forest. To be its guardian, its protector, its stalwart defender. You would live this life to completion, but the next may be spent in my visage.”

Of course, it figures that any contract needed to be signed. But a being of nature’s might only respects nature’s acts. And what more primal than that of sex, of intimacy. In a flash, her claws tend ribbons from your leathers. As nude as the day you were born, shivering in the mist.

In an almost tender gesture, a finger teases your entrance. It’s sharp, but smooth, like a well worn branch. It slides in without much resistance, starting to work back and forth, loosening you up. Gentle murmurs fill the air as she closely fills you with more and more of her claws. Your hands clutch to her shoulders as her movements grow rougher, more intense.

You almost expect to cum on her fingers before they slip out of your hole. A low whine escapes from your throat before they quickly shift into a long, slow moan. Some vine, tendril, or limb has found its way inside. Slippery, warm, wet. It fills you quick, as if ravenous, devouring every ounce of your pleasure.

Uncontrollable moans flow from your lips as she bounces you up and down her cock. Your fists pound limply against her bark-skin, some desperate attempt to regain your composure. Normally, one might react in contempt - maybe even rage - over the gesture. But she…

…

She laughs. A gentle noise. Like that of a songbird, floating in the wind. Such a snide, soft sound, you find yourself relaxing into her grasp. Against your better judgement, she comforts you with her light touch. The dryad thrusts up into your quivering form, before you begin tightening around her shaft.

“You’re close, aren’t you?”

Oh, how right she was. You practically explode on her cock, sealing the contract with hot, sticky love.

~+~

For the month of October, I wanted to get in the spooky spirit! Naturally, I followed Ozzgin’s Monstober list - though none of those will be as long as this one - and will post these every day. Look forward to it! I certainly do…

[marxtheimpish]

a question i love to discuss with other people (sorry if its weird): what do your rogues smell like? ( 'o' )^

dont apologize!!! i think its fun too ::) jervis definitely depends. his mental state and how immersed he is in his delusions heavily impacts his ability to care for himself properly and also his ability to realize when he needs said care, so when hes havign an episode he smells. pretty stank. other than that the scent of tea permeates through his whole being in a way that no soap can fully mask, but when he is more in touch with reality he actually takes great care with his hygiene and enjoys perfumes! very light, floral scents. so he either smells like tea and flowers or pure unfettered ass dependign on the day jonathan is similar i think. when hes really into his work and creatign new toxins he foregoes self care in favor of more work time, so he smells horrid. but i think jonathan understands that all senses can create fear, not just sight and sound, and so he very carefully formulates his scarecrow smell. makes it so there is a bitter note on the wind to signal his arrival. the smell of fresh hay with that bitter chemical note on top is definitely a basic scarecrow smell headcanon but its Strong imo waylon unfortunately lives in the sewer . i shall say no more . he wants a bath so bad (when given the choice he grooms very regularly and enjoys woody colognes with a nice sweetness at the end) joker smells like very chemical-y sour green apple with some gunpowder at the end. its the kind of thign that makes your nose hairs stick up because your body knows it should not be inhalign any of those molecules i think two face wears cologne pretty consistently. im sure harv and harvey have different tastes but overall i think they lean towards warm, spicey scents ik thats nowhere near all the rogues but im honestly not very good at describign smells lol ::P when i was tryign to find the words to say how i thought two face smelled, my brain was like "he smells Low" and i nearly typed that until i realized its incomprehensible to anyone but me probably and thank you for takign the time to send an ask and (assumedly) readign all of this ::333

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Oprah the devil act one scene one

I think we can all agree that this woman here is part of the problem, I’m by the look what she said and then look what she’s done, wanted to take Michael Jackson down, and David Gaffin well, her connections with him as suss, apparently according to blind item lore, Gavin who funded the documentary along with Oprah leaving Neverland, I’m not saying I don’t believe Michael Jackson didn’t do what he did because I do I know these powerful people, abuse their own meaning people in the industry with them because of their connections but to a civilian they might or someone is not enter the chat Evan Rachel wood, it is tale as oldest time, and unfortunately it doesn’t seem to be stopping, they seem to just migrate, yes you the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz Russell Simmons yes Tom Hanks, Tom Hanks didn’t you even in the Simpsons movie?, Covid oh unsurprised surprise you were the first person you have it., moved to Greece where the age of consent is 14 we know about you and your weird picture taking.

But as you can see, all these people know about Weinstein and Hollywood I believe, I mean in Gwyneth Paltrow speech where she thinks Harvey Weinstein she’s holding back the tears and I believe she’s holding back the tears because she realised she had to thank that fat bastard who treated her so badly, that Brad Pitt even had to step in and have a few words at him about his behaviour with women about his grotesque ways. I’m so glad Rowan Farrow doesn’t have any problem or didn’t have any problem in taking him down. Many people tried to and we couldn’t but he had his mother., had a sister to one stepsister one adoptive I believe, Rowan Farrow allegedly came out of Woody Allen’s ball sack no way, he looks far too much like Sinatra and he has so much more respect for women, as do most gay men well not all, in fact I can think of some who can be really disgusting. Enter Barney from how I Met your mother., Winehouse cake after she died Hollywood and you’re all coming out and you be seen for wicked ways but Oprah promoted so many things games having weird people on your show fans and people like Russell Wilson and Harvey Weinstein come on girl have a bit of class, we need to bring down this corruption in Hollywood but your supporting foundation of it these women why do you need to support these men so badly as well.

There’s even a cult leader called son of God John of God who essay women and children Oprah knew this she didn’t care she didn’t care , she just moves on that’s proper Hollywood where you don’t even say it. That’s your PR team. You just don’t talk about it. It happens but we don’t talk about it. It happens but let’s move on. It happens but what a shame but now I’m going to stand over here. I’m sorry the people are getting sick of it and your way your way being at parties and looking like you’re high on cake with Harvey Weinstein that’s a typo I’m gonna leave in., he would be high on cake, you obviously know I meant Coke right,. You know the white snowy stuff.

This woman has such audacity it’s beyond belief, and I’m sorry to say I hate to say it I really do but this is why Rita Ora has gone so far with little talent, yachting it up and then, understand and look at the first picture and read it and you’ll see what I mean, that means and now it’s just common folklore in blind items. Oprah, we do we see you and Gayle king .jail king if you know you know.🙇🏼‍♂️🤬😠👹🤮

[tallbluelady]

10 Archetypes that I Made Up That Make Up My Blorbos

@sasslett tagged me with 10 Characters/Fandoms but my brain was getting mad at the restrictions so I made up my own thing.

Smart and Loyal Woody (Toy Story), Scarecrow (Wizard of Oz), Faramir (The Lord of the Rings), Aragorn (LOTR)

Cool Dad Dr. Henry Jones Jr. (Indiana Jones), Qui Gon Jin (Star Wars), Alan Grant (Jurassic Park), Auron (Final Fantasy X), Aragorn (LOTR)

Green Girl Buttercup (The Powerpuff Girls), Makoto Kino/Sailor Jupiter (Sailor Moon), Sam (Totally Spies!)

Relatable Scamp Simba (The Lion King), Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Tidus (FFX), Riku (FFX), Scout (To Kill A Mockingbird)

Adventure! Cloud Strife (Final Fantasy VII), Jack Skellington (The Nightmare Before Christmas), Miguel and Tulio (The Road to El Dorado), Dr. Henry Jones Jr. (Indiana Jones)

Sexy Supportive Boyfriend Captain Hook/Killian Jones (Once Upon a Time), Urianger Arugelt (Final Fantasy XIV), Will Turner (Pirates of the Carribean)

Sentient Animal Red XIII (Final Fantasy VII), Reepicheep (Chronicles of Narnia), Any Talking Animal Media, (Suspect for Freya (Final Fantasy IX))

Gender Urianger Arugelt (FFXIV), Cloud Strife (FFVII), Spike Spiegel (Cowboy Bebop), Jack Skellington (TNBC), Elizabeth Swan/Turner (PotC), Emma Swan (Once Upon a Time)

Crouching Moron, Hidden Badass Goku (Dragonball), Kenshin Himura (Ruruoni Kenshin), Spike Spiegel (Cowboy Bebop)

Shakespeare Urianger Arugelt (FFXIV), Didymis (Labyrinth), Shakespeare (Romeo x Juliet anime), Shakespeare (Fate Series)

Feel free to do w/e: @yloiseconeillants, @lilbittymonster, @hermits-hovel, @azure-dragonsinger, @mythandral, @abyssalmermaiden, @whatsthisascianbullshit, @sayonaramidnight, @tishinada, @janzoo

[lostloveletters]

I have a spooky season ask for you🎃 Do your OC’s do family costumes for Halloween (if the celebrate?) There are some cute ones out there🥰

Thank you so much! I absolutely love this question🖤 I immediately thought of aww.sam over on Instagram because I've been following her account for like ever, and her homemade Halloween costumes for herself and her family are always incredible (the martini glass costume and Tupperware bowls costumes are like my all-time favorites)! But that literally isn't what you asked lol. Okay, so:

Woody and Brady do cowboy costumes! It's easy and they can reuse it for multiple kids. Maybe they look weird after a while walking around the neighborhood as three cowboys, a fairy, a pirate, and a baby stroller that Woody made look like a pumpkin so baby number four is a little tiny Cinderella.

Holly and Bucky definitely do and they're hurt when their kids are old enough to find it embarrassing. They do a killer Wizard of Oz one when they have Cindy, though (Holly's the Cowardly Lion, Bucky's the Scarecrow, Henry's the Tin Man, and Cindy's Dorothy. It's really cute)

I think Buck and Leona would, but only if they're asked, and then Leona just goes to the party store and buys whatever works best for what Luke has in mind.

I don't see Michael and Gloria doing family costumes, which is sad and boring. Gloria likes helping the kids pick out their costumes because god knows she can't make them herself or anything, but she's good at thinking outside the box and accessorizing!

🦇 Battie

[keepyourpantsongohan]

Never-Ending Betelgeuse

It’s a long story, so I want to take my time. (Chapter 425). | @kagumo-zine fic for The Man and The Moon Zine | AO3 |

                          ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Sakumo wakes up, he is not alone in his house. 

By instinct, his hand is on his tantō before his feet even hit the ground. His eyes are still adjusting to the morning light as he treads silently toward the kitchen. The scent is somehow woody, ambrosial, and medicinal all at once, but barely there, in the way a summons would be before they first travel to their contract. He might not have noticed it at all were it not for the humming. 

There is a steady, low hum, drifting out from deeper in his home. It is neither meditative nor melodic. More so, it sounds to Sakumo like the buzzing of bees or the inexplicable plaints of the forest which set the deer on edge. 

It is all the more perplexing when he sees the source of the noise. The mouth of the most lovely woman he has ever seen, standing barefoot and seemingly unarmed in the middle of his home, who pauses her strange song to bite one of the red onions he had harvested this season as if it were an apple. 

She takes no note of Sakumo entering the kitchen. He is standing directly in front of her, his sword half-raised, still in his bedclothes, so she can’t possibly be ignorant of his presence. Still, her focus is on the onion. He gets the feeling he’s being ignored.

“Excuse me,” says Sakumo, clearing his throat. “But those are my onions.”

She finally looks at him. And with a smile that knocks the wind out of Sakumo, matter-of-factly informs him, “I ate them.”

“Er, why?”  

His intruder considers the question. Glancing upward in reflection, she decides, “Hunger.”

Sakumo laughs, finally lowering his tantō. He supposes that’s as good an answer as any other. “If you’re hungry, I can make you something,” he offers. 

She smiles more widely, and Sakumo thinks this must’ve been the correct answer. Her hair, both silver and purple, sways as instantaneously she moves from several metres away to right in front of his nose. By the speed of the movement, he’s not sure he would’ve been able to reach her with his tantō if he’d tried. 

“I am Kaguya,” she says, so close he’s almost cross-eyed trying to meet her gaze. From this distance, it is clear that her eyes are not just glassy, as he’d thought, but lacking any pupils. Her height is also a surprise, unimposing as she’d seemed in his kitchen. 

“Hatake Sakumo,” he replies, stepping back so that he has enough room to bow. 

“Sakumo,” she repeats, like a song. 

“So, what do you like to eat besides onions?” 

--

The next time he sees Kaguya, his fingers are buried deep in the snow amongst his cabbages. 

It is tedious work, moving through the layers of slush and straw that cover his vegetables. The other villagers of his skillset would be using their chakra and tools to complete this task. Yet Sakumo’s ancestors also grew their own crops, and while he’s not above breaking tradition, there is something to the value of what can be done by hand. So he digs. 

When Sakumo collects his last cabbage a few hours later, he finds a pair of familiar white eyes looking at him intently through the bed of straw. Just like before, he can perceive what’s in front of him perfectly fine with his own eyes, but all of the instincts and extrasensory abilities he has honed since he was a child are suspiciously silent. It is as if the person in front of him is no different than the water and earth beneath him, or the trees on the far side of his field. 

He brushes the straw away from a set of eyes and his fingers graze a warm cheek. “You’re not a scarecrow, are you?”

“Aino said I am a woman,” replies his companion. As she speaks, Sakumo feels the wind shift. It is the only warning he gets before all the snow covering his land melts. Kaguya glides upwards and lands seated on top of the straw bed, as if lying beneath half a metre of sleet is something she does every day. 

“You look a little different than most women I know,” Sakumo admits, both artless and appreciative. 

In the six months that have passed since she spent three days following him around his farmland, Kaguya has gained a pair of horns on either side of her head, and a third eye closed in what appears strikingly close to a wink. 

“What do you think I am?”

Beautiful, Sakumo wants to say, but it feels terribly forward. So instead he says, pink-cheeked and smiling, “Tall.”

“Thank you.” 

This time around, she stays longer. It is a full month that Kaguya spends with him. The weather is frigid enough that his skills are more needed in his village than outside of it, and he is grateful for the company. 

Kaguya speaks of Aino again, and two people she describes only as “the young ones.” She never says what land or clan she belongs to, but among chakra users that is a common way to avoid bloodshed. Yet he knows she is something, be it samurai, shinobi or spirit. He can tell from the way she replies to thoughts he has not spoken aloud, how she sees the most minute changes in his posture, or how she dances around his sword as he practices his Iaidō. Though that third eye of hers never opens, Sakumo is certain if it did, he would have no way of stopping her. 

As it is, Kaguya is only kind to him, curious and forthright in her behaviour. She has no qualms about leaning over Sakumo to grab his hair for his attention or prodding his cheeks when he grins. She calls him breathtakingly human once, and Sakumo blushes for the whole afternoon. He resolves himself to ask if she will stay with him for the spring. 

However just as suddenly as she appears, when the first flowers emerge from the ground, Kaguya is gone.

--

Kaguya appears again at the other end of his sword mid-battle.

As with the winter having called upon him to tend to his crops to shore up the agricultural needs of his neighbours, the summer calls upon Sakumo to utilize his most innate skill: fighting. 

While his village is not so entrenched in the framework of clans as other followers of ninshū, it is not above skirmishes of land, law and loyalty. The former is what has been troubling them these days. Naturally, Sakumo recognizes that collectives arise where there is free access to water, ore, and arable soil. His people are unfortunate enough to have all three. It is a driving force for desperation in the surrounding areas.  

It is why each battle makes Sakumo’s tantō a little heavier in his hand. He wonders if this fight is easier for the shinobi, who have the privilege of only seeing as much of his comrades’ faces as are visible through their armoured masks. 

Though his opponents’ usage of chakra is different than his, Sakumo is quick to adapt, and even quicker to cut them down. Shinobi techniques rely on having time to gather energy, and Sakumo’s blade is no different from his own hand to him. The fight is unbalanced. It is this thought that accompanies Sakumo as he strikes at a shinobi who set fire to a half-dozen fields yesterday, belonging to civilians and samurai alike. 

His opponent cannot block him. He can feel it slipping between the plates of the other man’s armour. He knows where it will land. 

His tantō stops right before it makes contact with his opponent’s heart. 

Kaguya’s eyes are closed, but her fingers are gripping the edge of Sakumo’s weapon as if it were one of his wooden dummy swords. Her fingers dig into the neck of the shinobi, stealing his breath. Sakumo’s own breath stops.  

“There will be no more fighting,” Kaguya says and opens all three of her eyes. 

A flash of light blinds Sakumo temporarily, and he finds his head crashing into the dirt as the earth beneath them moves, more suddenly than he ever thought possible. Though his eyes are squeezed shut, he is certain that debris has filled the air, and he is once again grateful for his mask. 

When the world stops again, Sakumo feels a hand brushing dust off his face. “I have solved it,” he hears, in that familiar lilting voice.

It becomes clear as Sakumo blinks and sits up, that the solution before him is the mountain range that has arisen in the middle of what was flatlands moments ago. In the height of summer, they are capped with snow and extend as far as his eyes can see. In fact, he would wager it borders his whole village. The shinobi is nowhere in sight. 

“Thank you,” Sakumo says, finally looking back at Kaguya. “But there may still be battles to come.”

Kaguya moves suddenly, and for a moment he expects her to crouch down. Instead, he finds himself being floated upwards by an invisible force so that they are at eye level. “You do not want to fight,” she notes.  

The smile on Kaguya’s face flips his stomach in time with the hovering of his body. Sakumo nods. She leans forward and holds his face in her hands. “Then we are the same. I am glad.” 

--

They see each other more frequently from then on. 

Though Kaguya’s actions have done enough to protect their village from immediate threats, ninshū has always meant more to Sakumo and his comrades than mere combat. So he trains himself, growing stronger and faster to make his naturally low reserves of energy more efficient in their use. 

But this time, Kaguya stays and watches. More than that, she shares her techniques with him. He learns from watching her move that he could never hope to match her in speed or strength, even when he suspects she’s using a mere fraction of her power. However, while too skilled to be a match as a sparring partner, she is an eager teacher. She advises him on how to move beyond changing the shape of his chakra to transform its nature. 

She beams at him when he first moulds his chakra into the shape of earth and makes a miniature version of her snow-covered mountains. She laughs when he tries to light a candle and blows off his left eyebrow. He kisses her the first time he uses chakra to close his own wound. 

He is not bold enough to presume that it is him alone keeping her here, but regardless, he is grateful. He is thankful for the days they spend running him ragged on his fields, and for the days they spend laying underneath the shade of a tree, watching her converse with the nearby rabbits. 

Today, Kaguya’s usual leporine conversation seems to have turned into a quarrel. Kaguya and the white-and-brown rabbit glower at each other for a few minutes before Sakumo asks, “What’s the matter?”

“She coddles her kit,” Kaguya says disapprovingly. Before Sakumo can ask what she means, the rabbit freezes abruptly, and a ball of fur with shining red eyes pops out from beneath the creature. “He is old enough to live on his own.”

“Maybe he’s helping her by staying nearby,” Sakumo suggests. “Sometimes it can be difficult for parents to let go.”

Kaguya flops down onto the grass beside him, and the mother rabbit relaxes and mimics her, staring at them with what Sakumo can only imagine is a haughty expression among rabbits. “Parents must ensure their offspring are strong enough to survive.”

“Do you want to have a child?” Sakumo asks thoughtfully. Unbidden, he sees himself chasing a child with his hair and Kaguya’s eyes around these fields. He imagines himself teaching them to hold a sword, and her teaching them to tap into their chakra.

Lost in those thoughts as he is, Kaguya’s clear voice startles him in her reply. “I had two.” She pauses as if reconsidering. “Three. One is me.”

“Three... children?” Sakumo repeats. 

Kaguya purses her lips, and her third eye narrows. He knows by now that this expression means she is translating what he’s said into a language more familiar to her than the one they share. After a moment, her face relaxes and she replies, “They are adults.” 

Sakumo has always had the sense that Kaguya is a little older than him. Though his eyes have more lines around them than hers do, and his hair is more gray than her silver, that is less a product of age than being his father’s son. Kaguya, for all that she looks unmarked by the passage of time, speaks as though she’s lived through more battles than anyone in his lifetime. By now, he has learned her clan name, Ōtsutsuki, and knows that history books claim that the name has died out. He decides it doesn’t matter. 

“I’d like to meet them someday,” Sakumo says, taking hold of her hand. “Have you ever married?” 

Kaguya sits up and covers his hands with her own. Her fingers are warm and gentle, but when she speaks, her tone is stern. “Explain,” she demands. 

With a sheepish chuckle, Sakumo turns his palm over and strokes Kaguya’s hand soothingly. Certainly, there is no blame to be laid for the frustration. He has been struggling just as much with shinobi techniques as she has been with the customs of samurai. “Well, usually marriage involves two individuals promising to live together permanently. Sometimes it’s recorded in writing as well.”

Sanguinely, Kaguya observes, “You are married to your summons.”

“No, no!” Sakumo says, dropping their interlocked hands to wave his own fervently. In protest, one strand of Kaguya’s hair reaches towards him and tugs Sakumo’s neck so that they are closer together, and places his hand on her cheek. He laughs, settling his fingers at her jaw. “Different kind of contract. I’ve never been married. It’s... building a future with someone. I’ve always hoped if I married someone, we’d be together for a long time.”

Kaguya’s grip on his wrist and neck grows looser, and soon she is close enough that they are nose-to-nose. “We will marry,” declares Kaguya plainly. 

“Oh!” Sakumo’s heart stutters in his chest, which is unsurprising given how much blood is flooding his cheeks. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Her white eyes constrict in a way that he knows means she is looking behind him. Enthusiastically, she adds, “We will make a child.” 

Sakumo clears his throat. “I haven’t—Well, I know—Ah...”

Kaguya smiles widely. “I will show you.” 

--

As it turns out, Kaguya’s definition of a child is a bit different than Sakumo’s. 

Notwithstanding the variations in how exactly children are brought into the world in his knowledge versus Kaguya’s revelations—the butterfly and worm are certainly a surprise, but he supposes the birds and bees have been mentioned—the form the child takes, a shining purple egg that Kaguya ties into a sling for him to carry, is also a new discovery. 

“The baby,” Kaguya explains that first day, tapping the shell fondly. 

Like Kaguya’s earlier visits, Sakumo suspects that the baby will follow their own schedule, so the egg is his constant companion for the months that follow. It sits with him in the kitchen as he cooks. It lays against his chest as he reads. It rolls behind him in his fields and scares off the birds that approach his crops, and earns the egg the nickname, “Kakashi.”

Although Kaguya is never gone for more than a day at a time during these months, Sakumo can see the changes in his wife’s face whenever she steps away from their home. Each time she appears from beyond the mountain, her face grows more weary. Time etches itself into her expression. Still, her tenderness towards Sakumo and Kakashi does not diminish.

It is why there is not a shred of doubt in his Sakumo’s heart when Kaguya returns home one night doing something he’s never seen her do previously: Running on foot. 

He rises from the engawa, making sure Kakashi is strapped securely to his body before he rushes across the grass, barefoot, to meet Kaguya halfway. “What happened?” he asks, pulling her into his arms.

“I put them all to sleep,” Kaguya tells him, pressing closer. “And now they will put me to sleep.”

“Why?” Sakumo asks. Even he is not sure what he is asking. 

Her grip on the two of them grows stronger. “The nursery will not hold without my help. When I am done, I can restore peace.”

As if in response to these words, the egg pips and five of the tiniest fingers Sakumo has ever seen reach out over the sling to grab onto a lock of Kaguya’s hair. “I don’t think the baby’s ready for you to leave.”

“No one can stay,” Kaguya says, placing her hand over Kakashi’s. She leans down to press her lips to those fingers and then disentangles them. “You and Kakashi will go too.” 

“Where?” he asks.

“When,” she corrects, and splits the world open. 

Kaguya’s third eye is wide and glassy, and when he follows her line of sight, Sakumo does not see the fields in front of his home, but instead a heavily forested area, with carved stone faces in the distance. He has never known so many buildings to be so close together, let alone in the shapes and sizes of these. A new bright, shining sphere lights up the sky so that the stars pale in comparison. Kaguya has cut the fabric of the air into something entirely new. 

“We will see each other again,” Kaguya promises, pushing him forward.

When Sakumo wakes up, he has a child in his arms and the moon smiling down upon him. 

[allhallowsthemepark]

All Hallows - Pumpkin Acres

Moving clockwise around the entry plaza, the next gate from Trick-or-Treat Village leads to Pumpkin Acres, a tiny agricultural town somewhere in the American Midwest (or is it the South, or Appalachia, or...?) during the fall harvest season. The gateway is asymmetrical, with a white fence bordering a cornfield on one side and a small green bearing a painted wooden sign welcoming visitors to the town on the other. The base of the sign is heaped with fall produce—not only pumpkins, but baskets of apples and flint corn, squashes and gourds, and sheaves of wheat.

The walkway leads directly to the town square, which is designed in a typical “historic downtown” style, with buildings reflecting a countrified version of the architecture of the early 1900s. The colors tend toward earth tones with white trim, and some of the buildings are very obviously converted barns. Every storefront window display is decorated with simple jack-o-lanterns, autumn leaf garlands, and other seasonal accents.

Near the center of the square is an old-fashioned message board. Attentive guests can peruse the board to pick up on some of the area lore (see Characters, below).

On the far side of the square from the entry point is an open field in which a “Harvest Fair” has been set up, with a few simple carnival rides and game booths.

The “period setting” of Pumpkin Acres is wholly contemporary, but the town is a bit behind the times in many ways. Everything looks at least somewhat old, but carefully maintained to last. The ambient music loop consists of country-western, bluegrass, and blues music, some of it explicitly Halloween-themed while other tunes are merely dark and somber in tone.

Characters

The characters of Pumpkin Acres are just plain folks...or are they? The key players are as follows:

Granny McGillicuddy: By any measure the matriarch of the town, Granny is pushing 80 but still spry and working her pumpkin farm, which produces some real monsters every year—one just won the top prize at the County Fair and can be viewed on her property as part of the Pumpkin Acres Haunted Hayride. She also owns the town's biggest restaurant, although she leaves the running of it to younger relatives these days.

Harry Palmer: The local kook, who recently spent the night in the drunk tank for an unspecified offense (again). He runs the petting farm and loves his animals so much you might well suspect him of being one of them!

Woody Braxton: The young man who runs the bookshop (and the public library), Woody is a self-certified expert in cryptids and other paranormal mysteries. Not that he believes any of that stuff, mind you—he just finds it a fascinating topic!

Jeannie Braxton: Woody's younger sister (late teens/early 20s), who does believe that stuff and is constantly getting into mild scrapes trying to prove it's real.

Attractions

Harry Palmer's Petting Farm: Come on in and meet Harry's beloved animals! There's Elvira the black sheep, Beelzebub the Manx Loaghtan goat, Midnight the Ayam Cemani chicken, and quite a few regular critters as well. For a small fee, you can even feed them, and despite some of the nastier rumors in town, they do not eat the souls of the living.

Swamp Boats: One of the more peaceful rides in All Hallows, a simple outdoor boat ride through a swampy landscape. There's eerie mist, mysterious sounds from distant sources, and some of the trees look a little like threatening monsters, but there are no overt jump-scares or other frights—the horror here is whatever guests bring with them and project into their surroundings.

Pumpkin Acres Haunted Hayride: The signature attraction of Pumpkin Acres, a track-bound dark ride with “haycart” vehicles that seat about 30. The haycart travels past scenes of fields and wooded spots containing tableaux implied to be built by the town residents for the occasion. They start out benign (cute scarecrows posed with farm equipment, obviously fake graveyards with ghost and skeleton props), but as the ride progresses, the tableaux become eerier and evidence mounts that something genuinely supernatural is going on. The climax of the ride occurs in Granny McGillicuddy's field, when her prize pumpkin suddenly lifts up off the ground as the head of a massive spirit-possessed scarecrow!

Corn Maze: A traditional corn maze—just a winding path through the stalks, with a motion-activated bogeys in strategic locations. Of course, if real corn were used then the maze would only be available in the appropriate season, so the actual structure is artificial cornstalks backed up by painted fencing to give a similar visual impression.

The Pumpkin Acres Town Fair: This is the name given to a collection of small attractions at one end of the town. There are simple carnival rides, the sorts of things that can be folded up and transported via tractor-trailer: a Tilt-a-Whirl with seats that look like caramel apples (the stick is the backrest), a “Witch's Cauldron Bounce,” a miniature spook house, and a pony ride. There are also some equally simple carnival game booths and a small stage where guests can sit on bales of hay and enjoy a bluegrass band.

Shops and Eateries

6. Pumpkin Patch: During the fall, guests can get their pumpkins for carving right at the theme park! As with other unwieldy purchases, they can be reserved and paid for up front, and then picked up on the way out. Decorative gourds, flint corn, and other attractive fall produce items are also available.

7. Country Costumes: The Pumpkin Acres costume shop offers costumes based on a variety of rural and farm archetypes. Some of these include: Cowboy/cowgirl, farm animals of various types, farmer, fruits and vegetables, granny/grandpa, pumpkin, ragdoll, redneck, scarecrow (friendly and scary varieties), and werewolf.

8. Sewing & Craft Shop: On the other hand, guests might prefer to get the supplies to make their own costumes. Due to space limitations, the stock of fabrics is not as large as it would be in a standard fabric store, and the actual bolts are not kept on the sales floor but in a cutting room in the back, with guests making their selections based on sample swatches. Patterns, notions and Halloween-themed craft kits can be taken right off the shelves.

9. Braxton Books: A small bookshop focusing on paranormal subjects and horror novels. Includes a reading nook for those who want to peruse before buying.

10. Granny McGillicuddy's Pie Barn: A counter-service restaurant with country-style cooking—fried chicken and chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, biscuits and gravy, and several flavors of pie, including pumpkin, apple, and boysenberry. Steamed vegetables and other less-heavy dishes round out the menu. Beverages include the standard array of soft drinks, bottled beer (limit one per customer), and hot apple cider.

Other

The back corner (on the right side, from the perspective of someone heading in from the entry plaza) of Pumpkin Acres is thickly planted with trees and shrubs, with a path that ultimately leads into Goblin Woods. (Marked on the map with a *.)

[fandumb-whimsey]

Need to get back onto my batman rogue design bullshit. (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

What I got so far (and subject to change of course):

Cult Leader Scarecrow - Jonathan creates a secret society as a front to experiment on willing participants and it eventually descends into an actual cult based around fear. The cult leader thing is a front at first but enough time huffing the fear toxin and the power of it goes to his head. Got some of that weird religious vibes, base of design has medieval executioner inspo, leaning heavily into the 'violent dancing' aspect and considering it with design as well.

Carnivorous Plant Poison Ivy - Shy Pamela Isley gets coerced into participating in experimentation that drastically changes her biology and gives her a taste for blood. Body becomes an ecosystem which plants can "root" into, her blood having the capabilities to mutate any plant species and turn them toxic, which becomes the basis of her scientific work to assist her ecological goals. This also, unfortunately, leaves her borderline anemic, forcing her to rely on her power over plants and their symbiotic connection. Design has somewhat "couture" vibes via various carnivorous and non carnivorous plants, use of roots to create lace-like look(?) Thick, woody vines for a corset(?) look and to make large "claws" over one or both hands. She's got them POINTY TEETH (Croc is no longer the only cannibal in these here parts).

Formerly White Trash Riddler - Born into poverty to white trash parents, Edward Nashton (later changed to Nigma, fuck you dad!!) learned young that he could not rely on his neglectful mother and to avoid his angry, alcoholic father. He found solace in solving things like puzzles and riddles, which helped him cope with frequent racing thoughts and focus his thinking. They eventually become a compulsion to alleviate stress, but it got bad enough that even seeing things which were half done or incomplete compelled him to try and complete (aka solve) them or otherwise left him frustrated.

Feeling he deserved better, his criminal career started in his teens and escalated from there. He could finally indulge in the expensive tastes he felt entitled to and, of course, bought the best of anything because he was the best. But normal crime got very boring and he wanted to feel challenged more. Thus, the Riddler was born! In his early career as a rogue, he enjoyed targeting corrupt corporations and banks, giving him a rather positive opinion amongst the public. Battling wits with Batman became his main form of enjoyment and, even though losing to him was frustrating, it only drove him to do better. However, at one point he noticed Batman was sending his little lackeys to confront him rather than face him himself. Thoroughly insulted, this began his descent towards a more aggressive path, utilizing hostages and threatening lives to assure the caped crusader couldn't ignore him anymore. He became more prone to fits of anger and violence (he's nothing like his horrible father though, he isn't he isn't) as the losses to Batman started to get to him. Still, even while sliding into the deep end, the image he projected to the public was one of class, refinement, and logic. Far less were savvy to the emotional, sailor-mouthed, painfully insecure man he really was.

Despite the inner turmoil, he looks very put together at all times. Favors three piece suits (and yes, they are extraordinarily expensive).

Near-Constant Identity Crisis Harley Quinn - With her criminal father in prison most of her life and a lazy, uncaring older brother, Harley's mother placed all of her expectations onto her. Thus started a life full of decisions based on what other people wanted or expected of her. Harley got good at reading others and playing the part needed to either help or pacify them, and her perceived skill in this was enough for them to think her suited for the field of mental health, something she took to heart. Years of schooling, an internship at Arkham, and a mental breakdown leads her to become obsessed with the Joker, who gives her the identity of Harley Quinn. She fills the horrible emptiness within her with mindless frivolity and constantly changes her style in a desperate bid to "find herself". At the end of the day, however, the world is a stage and she will happily play whatever part someone needs or wants of her. Just don't ask who she is as a person because she doesn't know. For design, she has a gymnast physique and, while her wardrobe consists mostly of black and red, her choice in fashion is never consistent and often times a chaotic blend of various looks.

Former Yakuza Joker - Although he has many colorful tales of his past, only a few things are certain: he was a part of a yakuza organization in Japan, he was a troublemaker (judging by most of his missing left pinky), and he has genuine memory problems which he compensates for by being completely impulsive and unpredictable. He's really not out to prove anything and most of his schemes are bids to alleviate his boredom and to be a deliberate pain in the ass. Can go from silly jokester to violent psychopath with shocking speed, no doubt a symptom of his very poor memory and an unstable sense of self which comes with it. Gets easily annoyed with Harley but genuinely likes her. Too bad he forgets she exists half of the time. Likes sleazy looking and garish suits, preferably heavy on the colors violet, green, and yellow.

Worked in a Junkyard Mr. Freeze - This is a fresh idea but the concept is most of his teen years were spent working for an uncle at a junkyard before (and maybe during) studying cryogenics and engineering. Eventually leads to him making his Mr. Freeze suit from junkyard salvage (can you tell this plot point was born from a design choice lmao).

[zooterchet]

Massachusetts State Politics ("Damn-Yankee")

1991: NSA OP-INT registered, as "Criminal Warfare", through "Internal Affairs" division, Boston Municipal City Hall. Father, offered multiple 401K accounts, and IRA, plus pensions for each business having worked, afforded paperwork per division separated; immune to Freemasonic MI-6 and Vatican Italian monitoring.

1996: EON registered, as "Irish Provisional", through husband, convinced "Sinn Fein" is a peaceful cause, "totally legal"; conversations with wife, Colombian Army DEA. Given to Gast family of Vermont; refused, given gymnasium test scores on the Mile, transferred to open refusal, bookies numbers, "Ptolemy", Tarantino authorship; listed as "Buddy", special education teacher. Recruited off Quakeworld, for Arctic MUD. Selected Tarsis, New England, passed.

1999: Mother dead, registered as Hopkinton PD, through "Schuck" family; relatives of "Woody" Allen, through display of "Deconstructing Harry" and "Manhattan Murder Mystery". Cleared of murder, FBI files given in flaw of "Batman" franchise, to Hopkinton Police Department, through State Police. Franklin Spencer, Christopher Dumais, assigned to write villain; written as "Electrocutioner", and later subsequently, "Scarecrow" in Batgirl, for Kennedy family.

2003: Class prank set up, to frame as having used ROTC to prank Hopkinton OSS schools, to protect from Biden; each student, registered as refusing Federal Republic of Germany and Nation-State of Israel, through mass quandry quarry. Israeli Germans, mobilized, out of Andover, and Faye Private School. Kennedy, Agnews, Nixons, Coolidges, Garfields, and Bushes, placed in permanent residency of Middlesex County, to protect children. Reporting signum number, Raven "Silver" Laventi, "Stitches", child through George W. Bush out of prostitute. Entrusted via father, met through Benjamin "Brown", real last name unknown; Falklands War sequence of parents, "Bloom County", Reynalda sought.

2008: Richard Ober, assigned "David Michael Charlebois", to deal with "Jim Shooter", real name "Andrew Donson", alias "Doctor Joshua Golden"; literature PhD, recruited against will by Mossad St. Cyr, French, to work in Bridgewater Triangle, under home guard of FBI theories unit, "The Mob". Extracted, in 2011, by David Charlebois, FBI report; federal building in Boston, under siege, by Mossad State Police, United Nations forces, unable to retrieve Boston municipal police from Turkish, Italian, and Irish hostels.

2016: Employment at SNHU, ITT Tech reformed school, to write comics and form program. African-American civil rights, and seizure of "black programs", by British Protestants, identified as "Babylonian Judaism", crimes of "beggars unions".

2024: South Boston Mob reactivates; The Bat (Bulgers), The Joker (Carnegies), Jacks (Jacksons), Sullivan (O'Neills), and Moses (Goldens), come to aid US Navy debts, out of Deep South (Arkansas White Supremacists). Silvas, Hitlers, and Bundies, summon Pasha forces, recorded under lithogram; Robotrek, (Enix Games).

[got-no-skill]

There's a reason my July 4th playlist includes:

"Pink Houses" and "Rain on the Scarecrow" by John Mellencamp

"Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen

"Fortunate Son" by CCR

"Sixteen Tons" by Tennessee Ernie Ford

"This Land" by Woodie Guthrie

Among others.

Any country that wishes to engender the kind of fervent patriotism that the US obviously does ought to hold itself to account and acknowledge when it doesn't work, so that material conditions can be changed so that they do.

Not for nothing are all of these songs conservatives have completely misunderstood and attempted to co-opt.

[petty-crush]

Notes on the New Bev Horror a thon 2023

I love this event. This is my Halloween jam.

This was extra special this year because new important friends in my life got to join me for the first time. It raised the electricity in the room.

There was some good natured grumbling that, yes, the event isn’t an all nighter anymore. It’s from late afternoon to after midnight, not deep evening to early morning. I really don’t care, a celebration is a celebration, no matter what time of day.

-/—/-/—

The films, such as they rolled,

1-The New Kids (Sean Cunningham, 1985)

2-Return of the Vampire (Lew Landers, 1943)

3-Komodo (Michael Lantieri, 1999)

4-The Severed Arm (Thomas S. Alderman, 1973)

5-Scarecrows (William Wesley, 1988)

6-Wrong Turn (Rob Schmidt, 2003)

-//-//////—-

This was the first time since I’ve been going that there wasn’t a Italian or Spanish horror film in the line up (I have missed a few years though), an odd beat in the rhythm.

-//-

More grumbling from the veterans; the first film really wasn’t a horror film. I can somewhat disagree, as there was elements of a siege near the end.

But, clearly, this was a shout-out to the Friday the 13th crew doing a left turn. It was fun, which was important. I probably wouldn’t have made it the first film however.

-///-

This was a marathon that was back end heavy, for my tastes. The Severed Arm and especially Scarecrows powered up this showing.

-///—-

Early to mid 2000s horror is one of my least favorite eras. The look and leftover 90s teen cast of Wrong Turn wasn’t my ideal way to end the night, though it was solid on its own merits.

-////-/—-

Here is something I really wasn’t expecting, the monster movie was my least favorite of the night. Usually it’s in the top three, but this year it rests comfortably at the bottom. It was still quite fun, and seeing it with this audience made it a delightful go of things.

-/-////—-

I fucking love Bela Lugosi. He’s just delightful. His personality is other worldly strong.

Before Return, there was this hysterical winking interview with him from 1938. His hamming it up as if he was a real ghoul plastered a stupid grin on my face. This dude rocks.

-/—-/

More on The New Kids;

The opening set piece with Tom Atkins, training the kids to run, in slow motion, had the entire audience rolling. He didn’t come back after that but it’s almost worth the movie just for that section.

James Spader is magnificent as the bully leader. I’m still mystified that he didn’t knock it out of the park as Ultron in Avengers 2.

I suspect that was the strings being pulled away from him behind the scenes. Also maybe Jim Shooter’s version of Ultron is best, and it wasn’t that.

As mentioned, I think putting this movie 3 or so would have been better. Severed Arm would have been a great opener. Not a dealbreaker however.

-/-/—

Arm is truly one of those raw bruised exploitation films that has such a seedy view of the world. Its griminess is palpable, but never a dirge.

There is one scene that drags (the guy in the mechanic shop) but that’s actually pretty good by the standards of this weight class. You have to accept that these kinds of films are not the best paced, little rough around the edges.

Gawd help me, I laughed so hard at the scene of the group pressuring the guy to cut off his arm to feed them (they are trapped in a mine) and the rescuers coming barely thirty seconds later. This poor schmuck.

Of the films that were new to me that night (hold that thought) this one easily won. Highly recommended.

There is also one guy doing an substitute teacher version of Woody Allen Schlick that is right up my alley.

-//-/—////——/—

Scarecrows was the film of night to my eyes, even though it was the only one I had seen before.

This was an astute lesson in how a film plays totally different with an audience. Like how a song from an album comes truly alive in concert. The communal experience transforms it.

When I saw it at home, I thought it was ok, if a bit slight. With a dark room, an attentive crowd, it murdered. All the jokes were funnier, the surreal touches more vivid, the despair more claustrophobic.

I love horror films that don’t explain shit, and this was that plus surprising. A winning combo.

-/-/////-//—

Thinking back again, I think making the kid in Komodo a boy just felt really dry to me. A girl fighting big lizards is just funnier.

That said, seeing him pull a home alone/Rambo trap on the Komodo had my cheeks red.

-////-/—/

In Wrong Turn’s favor, it had the most appealing gal of the night, Eliza Dushku. Her alternative boobies soothed all the backwoods brutality.

This is definitely a film basking in the post 9/11 bitterness. The anger and visceral violence. What a strange time.

Films from this era were also extra dirty, textures wise. And yet it feels a bit too pristine at the same time.

-/-/-/—

By golly, did I love the wolf man growing a spine and in near death besting the vampire. As bombs are falling down. Those last fifteen minutes in Return are wonderful.

-/-/—-

The gift this year was a jacket patch with a gnarly pumpkin on it. Neat.

-/-/////—-

Solid year. Every film played well, with most being ones I would return to again.

My favorite is, so far, still the marathon of (deep breath) race with the devil/horror party beach/rawhide rex/twitch of the death nerve/slaughter high /ticks. But this one was quite spiffy as well.

Halloween, like life, is all about variety and surprises. This year delivered. My only regret is waiting a whole year till next time. But it’s worth the sweet leisure.

[qyllenhaal]

Two Cheers for Halloween

Dad!Chris Evans x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 2.8k.

Summary: Halloween is right around the corner and Chris finds his wife's old cheerleading uniform while she looks for a costume to wear.

Content: established relationship, domestic life, smut (18+ only, MINORS DNI), unprotected sex, doggy style, cumshot, a little bit of roleplaying.

Preparing for Halloween used to be so easy. All Y/n had to do was find the perfect costume, and find out who was throwing the party she was going to attend. It was even more fun when she met Chris and they began going together, and sometimes even dressing up in those corny couples costumes. The holiday reminds her of her late teen and college years when she could go all out and just have fun.

Now with two kids, Halloween is no longer about her. It's all about what the kids want, which is not a problem, but she misses the fun she used to have on the day. Halloween is two days out and she still doesn't have a costume for herself.

June, their oldest, was insistent on throwing a Halloween party while Charlie only wanted to go trick-or-treating. They bickered about it for a straight week and Y/n couldn't be bothered to deal with them. Chris had to turn on his dad voice and help them come to a compromise. June can have some friends over in the afternoon and then they will go trick-or-treating later in the evening. They were lucky that Halloween fell on a Saturday this year or else they'd have to pick one or the other.

It's not even a real party, yet June has Y/n running around and picking up things for the store for her little get-together. June wants Halloween-themed decorations, spider cupcakes, Halloween music, and a fog machine. She swears that Chris put that last demand in their daughter's head because she was too young to even know what a fog machine was. But, Y/n was going to get it regardless. She curses herself for telling her husband all those years ago that she will be the one in charge of parties. She just can't trust Chris to successfully throw a party without her help, but god does she wish she never made that rule.

She has just a brief moment for herself and she's spending it looking through a box of her old costumes. All the good ones were understandably sold out at the store so she had to repeat a costume. If push came to shove, she will just throw on some overalls and one of Chris's old flannels and call herself a scarecrow. But that's just so lazy and for someone who was never lazy when it comes to Halloween, she doesn't want to do that.

Chris was home a little bit earlier than he had planned. Y/n sent him to the store to get some of the ingredients she needs for June's little party she's having. The house is quiet because the kids are at school, but he doesn't even hear Y/n moving around. Her car is in the garage, so she's still here, but she's just nowhere to be found.

"Y/n? Where are you!?"

"In the basement!" She calls back to him.

Chris places the grocery bags on the counter and goes to find his wife in their basement. He was greeted by the sight of her digging in one of their many unpacked cardboard boxes.

"What are you looking for?"

"A costume."

Chris was dumbfounded. He could have sworn she talked about having a costume, but the last few weeks have been somewhat of a blur, so he could have misheard her.

As she moves things around, he catches a few glimpses of the costumes she's worn before they had kids. One year they went as Gomez and Morticia Addams, and another as Jessica and Roger Rabbit. He can remember what they did after leaving those parties she dragged him to.

"Aww, look," he grabs a small cowboy hat from the box. It was a part of Charlie's Woody costume he wore for his first Halloween. June was Jessie while Y/n and Chris went as Mr. and Mrs. Potato. "Remember when our son was that small?"

"Remember when our kids didn't argue over what to do for Halloween?"

"Stop worrying," he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "This weekend is going to turn out perfect. June is very happy you're letting her have this little party. She would not stop talking about it on the way to school. And, Charlie is also very happy he gets to dress up as that Paw Patrol character. These kids really appreciate all of your hard work."

Y/n knows it's true, but with their kids wanting conflicting things she just wants everything to go smoothly. Wherever she feels like she's slacking, Chris is going to be there to help her out.

"I still need a costume for when we go trick-or-treating," she sighed.

He could help her with planning their Halloween day, but the costume is all on her. She shot down everything he suggested; even the cute couples costume ideas she would have loved if it was any other year.

"You'll find something."

He glances down at the box she's still rummaging through and he notices a costume he hasn't seen before. It's a cheerleading costume. He pulls it out without her noticing and holds it up to let it unfold itself. It wasn't a costume because it has her college alma mater on it.

"I didn't know you were a cheerleader," he says, absolutely confused. He's heard a lot about her college years, but she's never mentioned cheerleading.

Y/n glances at the old uniform he holds in his hands before turning back to the task at hand, "only for one year. I hated it so much; I only joined because my friend begged me to. I wasn't even that good so I don't know how I got on the team," she says nonchalantly.

"How come you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't think it was that important? Plus I swore I threw that thing out years ago."

Chris honestly wasn't too concerned with her explanation. He keeps staring at the uniform and imagines his wife in it. It's been years since she's been in undergrad, but he believes she can still fit it.

"Why don't you wear it this Saturday?"

"Are you kidding me? That thing is so short, all the parents in the neighborhood slam the door in our face."

To hell with them, Chris thought to himself. He wasn't thinking about his neighbors when his mind could only process the thought of seeing his wife's soft thighs in such a short skirt.

"Try it on for me."

His words broke Y/n out of her concentration and she looked at him with a sense of disbelief.

"You're serious aren't you?"

With a shrug Chris answers, "what can I say? I'm a simple man that wants to see his wife in her old college cheerleading costume."

Y/n didn't feel like putting up a fight. She grabbed the costume from his hands and disappeared. Chris felt like he had won the lottery as he plopped down on their old couch that now sits in the basement.

He was waiting for some time for her to come back down to the basement. He almost thought she played him until he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He sits up in anticipation and he's not disappointed when she's within sight.

"Wow," he says in disbelief, making Y/n feel all shy. She was a bit worried about how she looked in it. It's been years, over a decade longer since she's put it on.

"Come here baby," he says with lust in his voice. Chris was rendered speechless; he didn't have anymore jokes or teasing left in him. He was weak to how good she looked in her old cheerleading uniform.

"Does it look good? It's kind of old."

Y/n is not feeling as shy anymore. In fact she's the one teasing him now. He hasn't picked up his jaw since she's stepped down the stairs. The uniform is so short on her now that all it takes is for her to bend over a few inches and he'll be able to see her panties.

"Come here," he says again, this time with less patience.

Y/n walks over to him and feels his greedy hands grab at her. Chris rubs up her back before sliding down to her ass. She gasps as he moves under her skirt and grabs a handful of her ass.

"You're evil for hiding this from me," he says before pressing a kiss to her covered stomach.

There was a bulge forming in his pants and Y/n didn't have to see it to know he's mind-numbingly hard. She bends down, not only giving him a peak of her tits, but also unbuckling his jeans just enough for his bulge through his boxes to poke through. Y/n turns around and rubs her ass on his erection. Chris can feel her puffy pussy through her panties and he groans at some of the tension being relieved. He can barely control himself just seeing her in the outfit, now he's supposed to sit through her teasing. Both of them know once he pulls himself out and gets her panties off, he's not going to be nice to that poor pussy.

"Do you like it daddy?" She rubs herself harder against him.

"Fuck you're so precious." His hand comes down on her ass and he takes pride in making her inhale sharply. "Wanna show daddy what you learned as a cheerleader?"

Chris didn't answer as he lifted her dress to expose her white, cotton panties. His hands travel up her body and gropes her tits underneath the uniform. Her nipples are so hard against his touch but he makes them impossibly harder by taking them in between two fingers and squeezing them. "Fuck daddy," she winces at the slight pain he causes her but it makes the blood rush to her clit.

Chris turns her around and fully lifts up her dress. She looks so good and he begins to suck on her tits. His tongue flicks over her nipples as he pulls her closer. Her clothed pussy brushes against his thigh and she whines for him.

"Need you so bad daddy," she whines.

"Bend over the couch."

Chris holds onto her hips as he slightly manhandles her. He doesn't give her much of a choice because he bends her over the arm of the couch himself. Her ass is perfectly propped up for him. Chris pulls down her panties and admires how wet she is already. He grabs the underside of her and spreads her pussy apart with his thumbs just to watch her arousal cling to her holds. He hears Y/n whimper at the gesture, but it turns into moans when he presses his face into her sex for just a taste.

"Oh god baby," she moans.

She places her hand on the back of his head and pushes him in even deeper. The "little taste" he was going in for turned out to be more than that because she just couldn't get enough of his tongue in her pussy. He purposefully avoids her clit and just licks at her folds. He moans into her and it makes Y/n feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

She lets go of his head when she feels him trying to pull away. Her thighs are almost trembling with desire and she wants to feel him filling her up so bad.

Chris takes himself out of his boxers and lays his cock on her ass. He feels so heavy and thick, something Y/n knows but can never get over. He begins to saw his cock between her cheeks. Y/n hates to be teased, but he just has so much doing it. She is lucky today though because he's not going to tease her for too long; he's too damn eager himself.

He grabs the base of his cock and aims the head at her opening. Watching her pussy stretch to take him in was so delicious.

"Nice, warm cheer pussy," he purrs. He places a hand on her lower back to guide her on and off of his cock.

Y/n slowly rocks back and forth on him, grabbing a nearby pillow to squeeze it as she accommodates his size. She usually takes it slow for the first few minutes, but Y/n is eager in thrusting back against him and fucking herself on his cock.

Chris was mesmerized with the way her skirt keeps flying up and her ass jiggling with each thrust. He didn't have to do much work because Y/n was doing it for him. Her soft moans get louder when his cock moves deeper inside of her. She feels the tip slightly brush against her cervix and it makes her slightly delirious.

"Oh daddy," she whines.

She was so lost chasing her high that she was moving faster than Chris could handle. He feels his cock twitching inside of her, but he doesn't want to cum just yet. 

"Okay, okay, slow down there girl," he says with an exasperated laugh. "You're throwing that pussy back a little too much...you're going to make me explode and we just started," he grabs a hold of her hips to slow her down, "Eager little thing."

"It just feels too good," she tries to explain. She looks back at Chris with a pout and big eyes that almost makes him want to let her have her fun — almost.

"I know baby, but let daddy enjoy being inside you," he coos. Her walls feel like silk around him and he loves the sound her pussy makes every time he thrust inside of her. While she wanted him to take her hard and fast, she was relegated to him fucking her deep and slowly. Y/n thought the outfit would make him rabid, but instead he's taking his time being inside of her sweet pussy.

"Fuck, this pussy feels so good — missed being inside of my wife's tight pussy," one of his hands come down heavy on her ass to watch it ripple from the impact. It seemed to have made her pussy gush around him. "This pussy was made for me. You're so perfect baby, you're going to make me cum."

His voice becomes whinier the longer he fucks her like this. She was moaning into the fabric of the couch as his fingers dug deeper into her hip. This slow pace was agonizing for both of them, but Chris thought the view made it all worth it.

"Are you gonna cum for me? Daddy wants to see you cum so bad."

Y/n is speechless from the mind-numbing pleasure she feels, but she still has the energy to nod her head for him. She can feel her orgasm approaching and she wishes it could come faster, but Chris holds her down against the arm of the couch and he's not letting her move at all; he's in control here.

"Then cum for me. Let me watch my wife cum all over my big cock."

His voice is so commanding and deep, it sends shivers down her spines and leaves her obedient. The head of his cock brushes against her cervix one more time and her vision becomes obscured.  Her entire body begins to shake as she starts to cum for her husband.

"That's it baby — oh fuck that pussy is so tight."

Chris is dangerously close to his own climax because of how good her walls feel spasming around him. He lets her ride out her high before pulling out of her.

"C'mon," he says in a hurry as he pats her ass. Y/n doesn't have to know more to understand that he wants her on her knees in front of him. She's tired, but pulls herself off of the couch and kneels before him.

Chris strokes his cock to the sight of her tear-stained face with her tongue sticking out. 

"Please cum all over my face baby," she whispers.

Chris groans as his cum sputters out of him and paints his wife's pretty face. A lazy smile spreads on Y/n's face when the first few drops fall onto her face. Some of it drips down onto her uniform and stains the initials of her alma mater.

"So good baby...so good," he coos as his stroking becomes more relaxed. He emptied his balls on her face. If Chris wasn't spent and had nothing to do after this, he would give it some time and go for round two.

Y/n scoops up the cum from her chin, cheek, and bridge of her nose and pops her cum-covered finger in her mouth all while looking Chris in the eyes. She knows he's weak to the sight of her playing with his cum.

"I hope you enjoyed this because I'm throwing this uniform out by the end of the night."