werewolf skin

Goosebumps #60: Werewolf Skin

Alex Hunter, a young photographer, is staying with his aunt and uncle in Wolf Creek. They only have two rules for him: don’t go into the woods late at night, and stay away from the creepy house next door. But Alex can’t resist trying to take a couple of pictures, late at night, when the moon is full.

It’s been a little while since I’ve posted an update on the OS art. So here’s Calvin, at long last. You think I would’ve done the main character first, but I really wanted Tess and Ben out there before my little Canadian future werewolf.

  • Sketch versions are over here
  • Full versions are here, (Patreon only - $1+)
  • And if you want them on the ACE/PG-13 Patreon, they’re over here

rarerthangold asked:

UNF // will i ever stop being trash?

MEME. ( accepting )

               the high warlock’s parties always held something akin to a c h a r g e
  in the air. making the werewolf shake. skin tingling. an erotic play of music
  and lights that flashed hypnotically. drink in his hand long forgotten. whiskey
  gone warm with the melting of the ice. watered down and unwanted. yet, he
  found himself unable to put the glass down. anchoring him. keeping the were-
  wolf from pushing his way through the crowd. controlling. no matter how hard
  he tried. how much he attempted in distracting himself, remus’ gaze would
  return to the shadowhunter. the boy had been HAUNTING him. for days. a
  constant thought, lingering. coming to life in his mind when ever it found
  a moment to rest. a CONSTANT HEADACHE. the werewolf let out a low
  growl. frustration directed more at himself than anyone else. for being foolish.
  NAIVE. the nephilim were BEAUTIFUL. u n t o u c h a b l e. much more so for
  a scarred and cursed warlock. desire, a yearning burn coiled tight inside of
  him. unlike anything remus had ever experienced before. eyes shut, he tilted
  his head back. resting it upon the wall. a gasp —  a squeak — in response
  to the body, hard and hot, pressed flush to his. from nowhere it had seemed
  to come. but the smell. the voice. all too familiar. that dreaded nightmare
  returning. a dream it would be if it didn’t wreck him completely each time. he
  felt himself shiver. hands curling. glass a distant shatter. from another time.
  another party. he was gone. drowning in the arms that held him trapped. the
  breath that blew warm against his neck. this was more than a passing fancy.
  this was an ADDICTION.