Hello! Sorry it's been a while (again...) but I actually had a good excuse this time! I was in London watching a show. Y'know nothing special... You've probably never even heard of it... It was only HAMILTON!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT WAS FRIKIN AMAZING!!!!! I WANT A KING GEORGE!!! (Sorry... I got a little carried away there...)

Just a Halloween themed chapter with some spooky aesthetics for each character as a mini imagine 🎃🎃🎃 Enyoy! (If you DARE! Mwahahahah!!!)
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Sherlock-
Their Halloween aesthetic...

Sherlock pulled a pillow down over his face as he tossed and turned in bed. It was late. The sky was in inky black ocean, tainted only by little tinges of radioactive orange which crept up from street lamps; taxis passing by and even candle-filled pumpkins perched dominantly on garden walls. Sherlock rolled over under the duvet and gently shoved your leg with his cold feet making you jerk awake and shiver from the sudden contact with his milky skin.
"What is is Sherlock?..." You groaned, your eyes fluttering closed once again.
"Can't sleep" he mumbled into the pillow, distorting his voice and making him sound like a radio running out of batteries. He removed the pillow and slid his arms round your body, pulling you into a half-asleep hug as he spoke.
"Upstairs is still having a Halloween party... I like Halloween as much as the next person but could they not just shut up?..."
You yawned and brushed your hair out of your face. Sherlock rested his head on your shoulder and squeezed your arm. He always did that when he had trouble sleeping. You act as his protector. Personally, you hadn't heard the noise. You were asleep. But when you just stopped and just listened... There it was...
The ceiling appeared to vibrate as the strong, defined bass line of 'Spooky Scary Skeletons Trap Remix' pounded through the plaster. Photographs on the wall shook in time with the beat and the water in your glass bobbed up and down as if possessed.
"Right!..." You stated "I'll handle this..." Sherlock pouted as he was forced to loosen his grip of the warmth of your waist as you dragged yourself out of bed he kept his hands on you for as long as possible but his hand fell into the bed as you slung your dressing gown over your shoulders and stood up. A few seconds later, he heard your angry stomping up the stairs to the flat above. What came next bewildered him. Your usual sweet, innocent voice changed. It became louder, more volatile. You were practically screaming at the owners of the flat. The charade lasted a good 20 seconds and he wasn't quite sure what it was you said but he was sure that he had detected some expletives which frankly both shocked and impressed him. Suddenly, the music stopped; your feet pattered back down the stairs.
"Done" you smiled, slipping back into bed with Sherlock. His face was puzzled. He has no idea that you could be so angry and then just snap back out of it like that!
"Thank you" Sherlock smiled and placed his pillow back under his head where it belonged.

As the night rolled on and candles were extinguished one by one, the streets of London were filled with the light scent of smoke, alcohol and toffee. Sherlock, once again, snaked his arms round you cradling your waist like he was protecting and infant. His cold yet comforting chest brushed firmly against your back a you intertwined your legs with his. You smiled sleepily as the curls of his gorgeous chocolate hair tickled against your neck. He kissed you lightly on the cheek as you drifted off to sleep.
"Love you sherly..."
"Happy Halloween..."
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John-
Their Halloween aesthetic...

The corridor echoed with eerie blackness. You strained, trying desperately to adjust your eyes to the gloom as you closed the front toor behind you with a soft 'click' which ricocheted off the walls of the silent apartment.
"John?" You called out, with slight hesitation, into the abyss before you. You were confused... John was usually home by now. It was well past 10:00 and the only reason you had come late was that Greg had asked you to finish up your paperwork before you left.
"John?..." You mustered again, this time venturing through the hall into the living room. All that stirred in the house was your creaky footsteps on worn floorboards (that, and the monotonous ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece). The silence brought a shrill ringing to your ears... That sound that you need total silence to hear.
"John, this isn't funny" you stated with faux-firmness as you began to quiver slightly. Uneasy.

You fumbled around in the dark for the light switch but you couldn't see a thing. It was as if you were peering into a black hole. You couldn't see anything... So there may as well have been nothing there at all. After a minute of searching, you froze. Your body stiffened like molten sugar cooling. You found something.

It wasn't the light switch.

You instantly yanked your hand away and screamed with unwavering terror. The thing was soft, warm... and alive. In your panic, you stepped backwards and fell over your own feet, causing you to fall backwards. You clenched your eyes firmly shut and prepared to feel the sharp impact with the glass coffee table but you were stopped mid-fall. Something (or rather someone) caught you. Once you were back upright (still I total blackness and terrified) the main lights of the house were flicked back on again.
"Sherlock??!!" You screamed, sinking to your knees, hyperventilating. "What the ACTUAL FUCK MAN???" Sherlock let you calm down for a while and John walked in. His face was red and warm from laughing and he exchanged a high five with Sherlock before helping you back on your feet. As soon as you made eye contact, you administered a harsh slap across his face -rendering him speechless and Sherlock hysterical-before going limp and breaking down into tears in his arms.
"Shhh.... It's ok" John spoke softly "it was just a joke! ...mostly it was Sherlock's idea"
You grabbed onto him tightly, your tears being absorbed by his soft, cream coloured jumper.
"So... You two planned to scare me on purpose?" You asked, still a tad shaken.
"Yes, but in my defence, I didn't know he was going to be that scary " John chuckled, gently stroking your hair as he hugged you. You parted for a brief moment, allowing John to kiss your forehead and move his hands further down your back.
"Erm... I'll let myself out..." Sherlock stated, uncomfortably, and left you alone with John. His embrace did calm you down but that didn't change the fact that you were still mad as hell. Teary eyed, you looked up at John and kissed him with your slightly salty lips. He brushed your damp hair out of your face and squeezed your body securely. As soon as your lips parted, John apologised with hearty shame.
"I am so sorry (y/n). I had no idea you were going to react so strongly... Please, forgive me?"
You made a light humming noise as you contemplated before nodding and kissing him once again.
"Just promise me one thing." You insisted, "Never do that again."
"Promise." He guaranteed. "Happy Halloween?..."
"Don't push your luck"
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Mycroft-
Their Halloween aesthetic...

As you graciously closed the door after greeting the 12th or so trick-or-treater of the night, you carried the bowl of sweets back from the hallway into the living room and placed it forcefully down onto the mahogany coffee table and joined Mycroft on the sofa. As the October nights were getting longer and colder, you and Mycroft had taken to lighting fires of an evening. You would sit together, in each other's arms, watching the amber flames lick away at the writhing logs which shed their bark under the intense heat. As you say down, you declared
"That is the last child I am dealing with tonight. If I hadn't of moved, that little brat would have gotten fake blood down the new skirt you got me..." You sighed and sank deeper into the warm leather beside him, pressing yourself firmly against his body; your shoulders lovingly touching.
"Children are unpredictable precious. As monstrous as they may appear, biology programmes them that way. Being a brat is their defence mechanism..." he spoke softly, a minute waft of care creeping into his tone of voice. Eyeing the bowl of sweets, you noticed that -despite more than frequent visits- the bowl was still barely touched and you felt an obligatory urge to participate in the excessive consumption of E numbers, sugar and aspartame. Breaking apart from Mycroft's contact for a brief moment, you leaned forward and grabbed a small 'Milky-way' from the brown in front of you. The bowl was supposed to resemble a zombie's head but a careless slip of a in the line of production somewhere had left it misaligned. The creepy smile was more like an inverted moustache on its noseless, dead face. You unwrapped the soft, mini candy and put the whole thing in your mouth at once, fighting against yourself not to laugh as you made eye contact with Mycroft.
"What?" You mumbled through a mouthful of nougat and chocolate, "do you want one?" You giggled.
Mycroft methodically tapped his fingers on his knees and discreetly swallowed. You could tell what was happening.
"Come on Mycroft. It's Halloween! You're supposed to eat too many sweets! It's practically the law!... Have one?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow at you and reshuffled his posture, trying to appear more dignified and above your request. You groaned softly, letting your head fall against the back of the sofa and reaching your arm round to hold Mycroft's shoulders.
"I'm on a-" Mycroft started to say before you interrupted him
"Nope. There will be strictly be no mention of the 'd' word tonight..."

"(Y/n), you're being redicu-"

"Nope"

"Prec-"

"No"

"Bu-"

"Ah!"

"Wai-"

"Stop!"
Mycroft sighed and smiled genuinely, with adorable subtlety, as he too leaned forward too the bowl. Being the formal and frankly quite regal man he is, he opted for a 'Ferrero Rocher' (the most high brow of all the chocolates despite being made my the same company that makes 'Nutella'. Y'know? the thing you eat with a spoon for breakfast). He carefully unwrapped the golden orb and bit into the chocolate
"What the hell was that?" You protested sarcastically putting on a stereotypical mock-posh voice which made him laugh "all or nothing myc! You can't bite a Ferrero Rocher in half! That's like biting into a Kit-Kat before snapping it! It's chocolate etiquette suicide!"
After he placed the other half in his mouth, you were both laughing together on the sofa until you fell against each other on the sofa; breathless. You were leaning against Mycroft's chest, engaging in magical eye contact. There was silence for a brief moment until something in the fire popped and fizzed sending a whirl of orange sparks cascading upwards into the room. You bit your lip and grinned a little
"You've got chocolate on your mouth..."
You whispered sensually, "don't worry, I'll get it..." You brought your lips calmly into contact with his, making him relax and allowing you to fall further over him until he was in his back and you adorned the front of his torso. Your lips interlocked for a period when time stopped and all you could feel was his warm body against yours. As you embraced further and the fire spluttered on its last embers, only one thought crossed your mind...
'I love Halloween..."

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A/n-  sorry I kinda missed Halloween but better late than never?...