trick or treat!

Okay, so I know this is almost three whole weeks late, due to ridiculously high ambitions on a short time limit, but if you're still in a spooky enough mood for a Halloween Party...

THE HAUNTED HOUSE by New Mayfair Dance Orchestra

The long awaited Lesbian Wolfstar Vampire AU is finally here! I hope it is as compulsively readable as it was compulsively writeable.

got what i wanted (but it’s never enough for me, darling) (4.5k, Explicit)

Summary:

Strong hands turned Sirius over onto her back. Thin arms cradled her head, tilting her face to the light. Something soft pressed against her lips, and she felt a warm liquid drip into her mouth, the taste metallic. She swallowed reflexively.

“There you go. That’s good. Just stay with me,” the woman said, taking away whatever she’d given Sirius to drink. Unobscured, Sirius could see her face clearly for the first time.

Oh. Sirius knew this face. A younger version of it, years removed, but still. The same tangled hair, the same amber, curious eyes, the same slight features. Sirius had never forgotten this face. With the last of her awareness, Sirius met those amber eyes with her silver stare, searching for her voice. She had to say something, anything, while she still could, before-

“Remus?” Sirius whispered weakly. Then darkness eclipsed her vision, and she fell away from her body and into a dreamless, involuntary sleep.

---

Remus is a vampire, Sirius is a human, they're both lesbians, its 1970s New Orleans.

Sometimes the universe aligns perfectly and 2007s Sweeney Todd is one example. This pantheon of cinema gods Alan, Johnny and Helena in a Burton/Sondheim horror musical. I'm in heaven, this is perfection.

A warning for lil gore⚠️

Giving my beloved a Halloween present 💛🧡💜

Am i late for Halloween? Yep. Am i weird for drawing this kinda stuff for my ships? Yes, but who cares. Am i projecting my love for Tamaki onto Mirio? Hell yeah

You know what? I'm just gonna post this. I don't care.

Meet Glitch, aka Donnie's evil alter ego.

I drew this for the sake of halloween, but never get to post it.

So, here it is.

boo!!  👻

Happy belated Halloween! 🎃

Hey there! Okay, I know I'm really late (couldn't find the time to drop by yesterday, sorry!), but since I posted an edit based on the Luigi's Mansion games on my instagram account to celebrate Halloween, I feel like sharing it here as well even though it's November already (let's just ignore that small detail, please 😂).

So! In case you were Luigi, what place would you have chosen to visit yesterday during the scariest night of the year? A huge mansion, a majestic hotel or a valley sunk in shadows? 👀

Oh, and let's not forget to mention... They are all filled with ghosts 👻

I'm pretty sure Luigi would rather just go home 😂 But we all know that, if it's Mario's life that it's at stake, he will definitely visit every single one of these places one by one no matter what! 💪 And he'll defeat every single ghost in order to save his big bro's life and bring him home safe and sound! 🥹💖💚✨

So yeah, you better think carefully which place you'd rather go, because you won't be able to leave until you catch all the ghosts! 💪

... Unless they catch you first 😈👻

I really hope you all had an amazing Halloween night! 🎃👻✨

Trick or treat!

*places a single sundrop on your step*

Awwww, you're so sweet! But we all know the drill by now

You'd just finished up the last of the files, putting them cleanly away where no child would mess with them in the morning. Stretching your back, you sighed and let your eyes close for just a moment.

It had been a long day, certainly busier than most as kids ran around the Pizzaplex in their Halloween costumes. Sun had let the kids paint his casing, and you shuddered to think of what the technicians would think of that.

Something dropped into your lap. Curiously, you opened your eyes and sat up. It was a moondrop. A faint smile crept across your face. You knew exactly what he was getting at with that one. "I was just about to clock out."

"Sleep-over."

"No, I have to go home, Moon." The messy array of paint that Sun had allowed to be smeared across his faceplate lingered on Moon's face, and it looked positively ghastly in the dimmed lights of the office. "Go bother the night guard. I'm sure you'll get a wonderful scream."

"They'd be faking it," Moon replied, opting to land on the floor next to your chair.

"With that costume? No way. The reaction would be 100% natural."

Moon grumbled out something about how you weren't funny and that joke didn't even make sense. He was a jester. Not a clown. And the security guard would not be frightened by a jester because they hadn't in the past.

"Don't you remember? Sun let the kids give you two a costume this year," you replied cheerfully. "C'mon, just give it a shot, Moon. If it doesn't work, you can totally blame me."

Moon made a staticky noise, and you weren't sure if it was agreement or not.

"Tell you what. You can walk me to the door. Just this once." You quickly navigated to the employee section of the computer and typed in your code to clock out. "Since I'm sooooo tired tonight."

Moon peered down at you, an amused chuckle slipping out of his voicebox. An arm wrapped swiftly around your waist as Moon crawled up the desk and ducked into one of the vents. Shoving your face into your shirt, you realized the paint on his face was glowing. Glow in the dark paint?

The kids never used glow in the dark paint since Sun liked to hide it out of reach. But maybe since it was Halloween, Sun let them indulge. After all, the Daycare Attendant wouldn't care for having paint in unpleasant places normally either.

Finally, Moon shot out of the vent, connecting to his wire as he shot toward the door. With a short laugh, you were at the door. "Very kind of you to escort me to the door, Mr. Moon."

Moon's fans whirred at that, but he gave you a mocking salute.

"Don't forget to scare the night guard!" you called back as you pushed the door open. "I want to hear all about it in the morning."

Moon scoffed, but he lifted into the air, presumably on the search for the security guard.

Moon recorded his encounter, and poor Vanessa was never going to live down that experience. You were glad you had a chance to help Moon do something fun for Halloween.

Trick or treat!

Treat

This is something I wanted to post on Halloween for Val. Missed it by... 11 days- well! Here it is now!

@pyromainiaboy

@valthetvhead

Trick or treat? I think Boom Boom chose Trick-

Maze: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (Changes AU)

A/n: Same AU as Changes. The unnamed town in this story is fictional, an amalgam of the town my folks grew up in and where a good chunk of my family still lives. Western New York state/northern Pennsylvania. It's basically the ass end of Appalachia. You can smell the benzene leaching up through the soil. This AU is sort of a love letter to that weird ass place. Reader character is childhood friends with Benny and Will Miller.

Warnings: shitty family dynamics. Mentions of alcohol use. Mild injury mentions. Casual sexism. Mentions of drug use. Benny is a menace and needs his own warning. Reader has a douchebag ex named Zach. A very soft kiss.

          Hey Squirt!" Says Benny, ducking into the close cavern of the store, smells like cigars and beef jerky. Jerry's in the back making Italian sausage that will melt your face off. He's got a heavy hand with the spices. While you were out in the world, away from this place and this grimy store, the taste of those blistering sausages never quite left you. Nothing you picked up at Vons or Whole Foods or any of the specialty shops Zach took you too (when he deigned to do anything so plebeian as actually shopping for his own goddamn groceries) could equal what Jerry made in the back room, blood smirched apron and greasy paper hat.          "Hey Benny,"          "What're you doin for Halloween?" You shake your head.          "Nothing. Why?"          "Me and the boys are gonna enter the costume contest out at Fox Grove. We're doin a group costume. Will's thinking Wizard of Oz."          "Fox Grove?"          "You know, the old gravel pit. Some out of state chuckleheads built a luxury campground around it. People get married there and shit."

        "God. That's bizarre." The gravel pit had been full of water since before you were born. Some previous owner had stocked it with fish and built a handful of cabins which stood empty, sagging into the weed choked banks. When you were little your Pa and your uncle and the Millers would go there and fish, styrofoam cups of worms bought from the store you work in now. As an adult you understand that it was likely an excuse for the men folk to hang out and drink beer and watch the sun set behind the trees and get out of the house for a second.

        You and Benny and Will would cast out into the gently shifting water and watch your bobbers like hawks for the slightest bit of movement. Mostly bluegills and channel cats, the occasional walleye all taken off the hook by the nearest adult and plopped back in the water. It doesn't occur to you until years later that you were likely trespassing the whole time. Once Benny got hooked through the web of his hand and panicked, and your Pa pushed the barb through and clipped it off with a pair of needle nose pliers he kept in his tackle box, quick and neat as a magic trick. You're alright Big Ben. Wash the fish-slime off, and we'll put a Band-Aid on it.         "I know, right?" Says Benny, "They've been doing a big Halloween bash about five years running. What do you say? Pope's too ugly to be Dorothy."         "If I'm Dorothy, what're you going to be?"         "Toto! Duh. C'mon it'll be fun. Fish is gonna be the scarecrow." Benny grins and you narrow your eyes at him. Benny's been not so subtly poking at you since that night around the fire. He likes you. So? Sooooo. Damn it Ben, I'm not looking to jump into anything right now. Liar. Fuck off.         "What do you say, Squirt?" Time off won't be an issue. Mac's General Store and Butcher Shop closes at 7pm sharp, Jerry sends you home with bleeding cuts of meat wrapped in white paper more often than not.         "Sounds fun," You say, "I'm in."

        You've got to drive to Bradford to find your costume, a Spirit Halloween set up in the old Ames. The shoes aren't included so you sacrifice a pair of ballet flats you found lurking in your old room, a handful of shirts still on hangers, speckled with dust, the dress you wore to junior prom still all shimmery in plastic as if you could step right back into it. Pa finds you dumping red glitter on your glue coated shoes.         "This for the costume contest?"         "Yeah. We're doing Wizard of Oz. It was Will's idea." You pick up a shoe from the newspaper you laid down to keep the glitter from getting everywhere, and give it a little shake to get the excess off.         "Will's gonna be the Tin Man, Benny's gonna be Toto," Pa huffs laughter at that, "Frankie's gonna be the scarecrow--"         "I don't like you palling around with that Morales fella." You hunch over your Dorothy shoes and crunch your eyes shut. To Ma and Pa you're always going to be the bad daughter, square peg to the round hole, uppity girl who ran for brighter things, fun and sun and California and look what that got her. You're always going to be sixteen. They take the implosion of your marriage as proof that they were right about everything, but you see how old they've become, the gods of your childhood worn down to ordinary people by time and distance.         "Frankie's a nice guy," you say.         "He's a druggie," says Pa, "Lost his pilot's license over it. Claire said he used to fly for Delta. He was on his way to being a captain--" As if there weren't all manner of drugs at Zach's corporate retreats. As if you hadn't seen him whooping it up with his buddies, glassy eyed and yapping a mile a minute while you tried to shrink yourself small. Coke was not your thing but that never stopped him. You've got to lay off you'd told him once, and he'd given you a look laced with pity and contempt, I know my limits. As if you hadn't seen him taking mystery pills. Crushed up Adderall would do in a pinch.         "Claire said. C'mon Pa, that woman shits from both ends and you know it." He tries to look stern, but you're not wrong. He squeezes your shoulder.         "You've had a rough go of it," he says, "Your Ma and I...just be careful."

        They come to pick you up. Will's ancient van with it's bad muffler and peeling Miller & Sons logo on the side, a bit of construction and rehab to supplement the refinery job over in Bradford. And when that shits out? Who knows. No one likes to think about it. Benny bounds out of the van and drops to all fours. He's wearing union suit that looks like bad shag carpet circa 1968, pointy pink lined ears on a headband. Collar with a name tag around his neck. Benny makes a big show of sniffing at you and barking.         "Down, Toto. Heel." you say. "Let's get a picture." Your Ma is decidedly bad at smart phones but she manages to herd the five of your into a frame and get the shot. Benny makes a snuffling sound and licks your hand.         "EEEEEWWW Benny!" And it's like being six again, Benny plopping a fat toad he found into your cupped hands, if he pees on you you'll have warts forever. When she turns the phone to show you, you are laughing, eyes scrunched shut, your two best friends laughing with you. Pope is rolling his eyes as if he somehow expects better from Benny. Frankie is smiling, soft but sad.

        Fox Grove is about what you expected. Someone took the old gravel pit and dressed her up. It's actually pretty. The event hall is a huge parody of a functioning barn, all exposed rafters and columns chainsaw carved into animals. Foxes. Wolves. Bears. Owls. All glowing and varnished, old-timey looking strings of Edison lights hanging from the beams. Jack-o-lanterns and votive candles and hay bales everywhere. Zach would roll his eyes so hard over this. You can almost hear him. Look at these people. Fetishizing rural poverty. This is not aspirational it's just sad. His judgment feels like a veneer over everything, like the yellowing of the walls in a smoker's house.         "You okay?" Asks Frankie.         "Yeah. Why?"         "You shivered."         "Goose walked over my grave I guess."

        "Those son-of-a-bitching kids!" Says Benny, "They had a budget! They had a Gofundme! That ain't fair!"         "C'mon," says Pope, "That Xenomorph was pretty impressive."         "They used KY Jelly for the slime in the movie," you say, "They had to buy it in bulk. Like, 50 gallon drums of it."         "How do you just know these things?" Asks Pope.         "I read it somewhere," you say.

        "Hey! Let's do the haunted trail!" says Pope. He's the cowardly lion, red bow in his short curls, wire-stiffened tail poking up in an s curve from his butt. Will has sweated off most of his make-up at his point, rivulets of silver streaking down into his beard, crumpled foil hat askew, big red heart hanging around his neck.         "You go ahead," says Frankie. He's cute as a button, straw poking out of his flannel shirt, big clumsy patches sewn on grease-stained jeans, his ball cap traded for a Walmart witches hat that he cut down.         "You don't want to do the haunted trail?" He shakes his head and won't quite look at you.         "I don't like jump-scares," he says.         "I don't either. We can do the corn maze," you say.         "Yeah?"         "Yeah. Let's get some cider first."         The corn maze is meant to be family friendly, lit every so often by jack-o-lanterns and LED candles. You have your paper cups of spiced cider, topped with maple whipped cream. You can hear the screams and shrieks from the haunted trail and the soft shirr of wind passing through the corn stalks. It's not meant to be scary, but you find yourself reaching for Frankie's free hand all the same, warm fingers enfolding yours. He squeezes your hand and smiles at you. There is a gazebo set up at the heart of the maze, all glowing jack-o-lanterns and candles in glass jars. You had no idea it was there and neither did Frankie.         "Oh wow," he says softly, candle light shining gold in his eyes.         "C'mon," you say, tugging him forward into the warm, shifting light. Fairy lights glimmer overhead. The distant purr of a generator and a thick extension cord running off into the dark are the only things that betray the illusion, same source powering the strobes and animatronics on the haunted trail.         "This is so pretty!" You fumble in the picnic basket that serves as your purse for the evening (It's not like I can fit in there, said Benny. You'd have to have a picnic basket the size of a Buick said Pope. It's not about movie accuracy it's about the vibes, said Will, making finger quotes.) You pull out your phone and snap a picture of Frankie, face frozen in a half-smile, hands raised in protest.         "Let's get one together," you say, and Frankie settles himself on the bench beside you. You hold your phone at arm's length. Frankie drapes his arm around your shoulders and pulls you close and you stiffen briefly. Zach was not about public displays of affection. Not towards the end anyway. Towards the end you were less of a person and more of a ticked check-box. Fancy house? Check. Fancy car? Check. Quiet girlfriend who looks presentable in the photos that circulate on social media? Check.         You take the picture but your mind is elsewhere.         "Hey," says Frankie, "You okay?"         "Yeah. Why?"         "You went somewhere else," he says, his arm around your shoulder goes slack.         "Sorry," you say, and shake your head, "It's just personal bullshit. Nothing to do with you." When you look at him there's no judgement there. Just concern and warm shifting light reflected in his eyes.         "Let's get a silly one, Scarecrow."         "Okay Dorothy."

        The maze branches off, or you take a wrong turn. You and Frankie find yourselves confronted with a huge tree with spreading branches and a hollow place, probably an old lightning scar, with a carved pumpkin tucked into it, winking candle-light eyes and grinning mouth, all around you the wind stirs the corn and makes it whisper, the giggles of everyone else lost in the maze, the squeals from the haunted trail, all this fills your ears and you squeeze Frankie's hand and he squeezes back, smiles at you so open and kind and you feel yourself smile in return.         "Are we lost?" You ask, your eyes finding his, warm and dark and bracketed in crow's feet that deepen as he smiles.         "Maybe a little," he says, "I don't really mind."         "I don't either." He is lovely in the dim, shifting light, candle-glow and crescent moon rising above the hills. His hands skim up your arms to rest on your shoulders and your hands find their way low around his waist.         "Can I kiss you?" He asks, "I mean, if you don't want to--" And you press your lips to his, a little indrawn huff of surprise and then he is kissing you back, slow and soft, cradling your face in his hands. He is gentle, unhurried. He tastes like apple cider.         "OH GROSS!" You and Frankie break apart,squinting in the flashlights from a half-dozen phones. A gaggle of kids dressed at Lord of the Rings characters come crashing into your little bit of the maze.         "It's a dead end, Gandalf, I think Mordor's that way." You call as they retreat on a raft of scandalized giggles. Frankie chuckles.         "Did we really just get cock-blocked by the Fellowship of the Ring? Did that just actually happen?" And the both of you crack up, clinging to each other like you're drowning. Frankie is beautiful when he laughs, eyes crinkled shut, lost to the moment, his laughter reverberates into you, warm rumble in his chest that you feel where you are pressed against him. As your laughter subsides into something manageable you find his arms slung lose around you, his forehead resting against yours.         "We should get going," he says, "Before those kids from 'Alien’ show up." You smile at him.         "Do you know the way?"         "I think so."

Trick or treat!! (Idk if your doing it lol) •<|:•)

(^ That’s ne being dressed as a clown btw)

sorry i'm not really into halloween so i was just answering the door to kids last night (it's 1st nov in the uk now). i didn't know people on tumblr do this whole inbox trick or treat thing tho that's really cool

@doctor-john-smith

“The universe can be a very cold; cruel place to be in, and left to float/fly endlessly in it, without a destination or lead to finding your kin, a place to call home, is much worse. But what would you care? Popping here and there leaving behind people or things/intelligences you thought dead?” Clever rants pacing to and fro much like an agitated feline behind bars; despite the fact there was nothing but the other occupying her mind to prevent them from ripping out the dual hearts that beat so coldly in that chest. The Doctor had returned to a previous body, and was even older than the ones both it as the aforementioned cyber intelligence and this body knew, they both could see it in those disgusting eyes that looked so shocked back at them both. “Surprise father dearest.” She mockingly bows.