#it’s like Christmas for him

[shadowsketches]

🦈Shark week!!!🦈

[sootsz]

“tubbo’s been distracted with his massive hole and his new boyfriend” fitmc is having the time of his life right now with all the innuendos he’s able to make

[egophiliac]

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)

[choccy-milky]

@foundthatoldzeppelinshirt what did u do to me...what in the wattpad is this... i only planned to do a few doodles but then i kept getting more brainrotted and things got out of hand LMAOO (and ofc i HAD to draw hockey player seb at SOME POINT bc its my duty as a canadian citizen🫡🍁🍁 O CANADA!!!)

[hitwiththetmnt]

Master Leonardo has some tricks to show Casey for his first Christmas

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Wouldn't you like to see something strange?

HI I know the new Halloween character isn't out yet but I needed an outlet for my excitement (Yes, I am unfortunately a Nightmare Before Christmas girlie) 💀 so please be advised that he may not be in character here, I'm just writing based on vibes! This is technically a twisted!Jack Skellington x Reader fic, but the Reader is basically playing a role similar as Sally from the film.

P.S. I want everyone to know that I busted out my drawing tablet to make this special border for him the same day he was first announced... Yeah...

Boo.

On the nights with full moons, he liked to steal away to the Spiral Hill on the outskirts of town.

The outcrop of land overlooked a vast graveyard and field laden with pumpkins, perfuming the air with the crisp sweetness characteristic of autumn. Beyond it, uncharted territory. When he squinted into the darkness, he could make out the vague shapes of naked trees, their gnarled branches like fingers beckoning him to approach, whispering his name.

He draped his long, lithe legs over the hill, letting them hang in the frigid air. Spindly as he was, the wind easily blew them, knocking his legs around like the straw-stuffed limbs of a scarecrow. He kicked with the breeze, carefree as a child on a playground swing.

The moon stitched his pinstriped suit and tattered cravat with silver thread, touched his pointed crown at its highest points. Even the white ribbons ribbing his jacket and the pattern of bones tugged over his gloves seemed to glow under the celestial light. He liked the view, and the view seemed to like him, too.

Held in his skeletal hand was a single flower. He stroked a silken petal, then slipped another finger under it, plucking the petal free. The wind claimed it, setting it sailing off into the unknown.

He continued. A second, a third. So on and so forth, until the flower was left stripped down and barren, even robbed of its leaves.

He dropped the stem off the hill. The pumpkins below consumed it, and the once lovely flower’s body became one with the patch.

"I figured this is where you were."

He lowered his dark circular lenses. His bright eyes slid to the figure that had approached from behind, on feet so swift they hardly made a sound. They came in with the sweetness of deadly nightshade, the trace of a poisoning committed at midnight. "Not a lethal dose, just enough to knock the doctor out for a few hours," as they always said. "How else would I sneak out to see you?"

Dry, ghostly lips dashed with hatch marks pried into an open smile, both teeth and the gaps between them. Charming, in a crooked sort of way. "My dear. You've come."

You bent down. “If you don't mind, I'd like to join.”

“The spot beside me is always reserved for you.” He patted it, inviting you to take a seat.

"Such a gentleman." You sunk down, folding your hands in your lap. "And so handsome when you're brooding. You're terribly good at that."

He was, he was, especially silhouetted by the moon. The man was practically monochrome, but bathed in silver like this, his pale skin was less sickly and more ethereal. He almost appeared like a cruel angel in the light, descending to expunge evil.

"I'm not brooding," he pouted, "I'm dreaming."

“Dreaming." You reached out and tucked a strand of alabaster hair behind his ear. "Father says it’s a ridiculous, wild thing.”

"Ah, but that's what makes it so much thrilling. Life’s no fun without a good scare.”

His mouth quirked to one side, and his smile became off-kilter--as his ideas often were. "He'll bring us to ruin with his crazy, new-fangled thinking and flights of fancy," your father would complain. But you adored that about the boy. How spontaneous he was, how his curiosity was never-ending. He'd race about like a child, picking items up and sticking his face where it probably shouldn't go.

Full of life in this otherwise lifeless town.

"What's this? What's this?" he'd say. "I must know!"

"He's gone daffy," your father would declare.

"Mmm." You nodded absentmindedly, tracing your fingers along the shell of his ear and down to his arm. "What were you dreaming about today?"

He lifted his head, looking beyond the hill and to the woods. Not a word was exchanged. None had to be.

"The Hinterlands?" you whispered. "But we don't know what's out there. No ghoul or monster has ever ventured out that far."

"Then sounds like I'll be the first! They’ll put me down in the history books as a pioneer." His laughter brightened up the gloomy night. When he quieted, his gaze was solemn—more solemn than you'd ever witnessed him. "... Don't you wonder about what's out there? Stuff that's cold and fluffy and falls from the sky. Things that come in colors we haven't seen."

"Sometimes," you admitted quietly, "but those are just dreams. I don't chase them."

"Maybe you should. We should," he mused, fingers tucked under his chin. "I bet there's all sorts of things we've never even dreamed of, too. And wouldn’t you like to see something strange?”

"I would. I really, really would," you told him in a soothing tone. Trying to reassure him as much as you were yourself. "Let's not doing anything dangerous though. I sense something in the wind—tragedy at hand. I can't shake that feeling that something bad is around the bend if you tread that path."

You gingerly laid your hand over his. Behind tinted lenses, his eyes widened.

"Stay here with me," you begged. "We can be together. Gaze at the stars. Be safe in one another's arms."

“… Sweetness, I would love for nothing more than to have you and to hold you ‘til death do us part.” His voice fluttered like the brush of a falling leaf upon your cheek. He regarded you tenderly, locking his fingers with yours and squeezing. “But you know that’s not the kind of man I am.”

“Yes, you’re every flavor of foolish imaginable,” you replied, pressing your forehead against his, “and I love you for that.”

“As do I.” He brought his icy lips to the back of your hand. A chill spider-walked up your arm, and you shivered.

“Then…”

“That’s why I must depart one day.” He pushed his glasses up. You caught the tragic reflection of your face in his lenses. “Out there… something more awaits us. I’m sure of that. I intend to find it and revive our town, this season that’s gone stale.”

“I won’t stop you if you decide to go,” you murmured. “And I will count the days until you return to me.”

“I knew you’d understand.” His smile—now it was touched with sadness, the knowledge of soon parting ways. “Thank you, dearest.”

He stood slowly, drawing you up with him. Your feet followed, as if pulled along by a puppeteer. How in sync the two of you were, how nicely molded your bodies were to one another’s. Your joy melded under the watchful eye of the moon.

“Shall we share a dance? One for the road,” he crooned. An errant breeze tousled his pallid hair, his tattered coattails—but to you, he was fairest of them all. “Our last dance for a while.”

“Alright, let’s make this one count,” you chuckled, “so I can send you off on your travels with a smile.”

“Excellent 🎵” He slid a hand around your waist, guiding you to lean into him. “Let the merrymaking commence!!”

“Yes…!!”

The midnight waltz began.

He led you, step by step, and you trailed after. Movements easy and effortless, like two intertwining maple leaves, spinning and spiraling. Their partner, the center of their universe.

“It’s as plain anyone can see,” he breathed.

“We’re simply meant to be,” you returned.

They danced as if possessed or an enchantment was cast upon their footwear. The moment too sweet, too succulent, to relinquish so soon. They wanted to savor it, indulge in it—and each other.

For never was there a more perfect pair than the Pumpkin King and his consort.

[crowned-clown-rising]

You are telling me the doctor stood outside his Tardis like a wet puppy waiting for Ruby to follow him out, got in, had a whole ass OUTFIT CHANGE (the change: same shirt in a different color), and then climbed up the Tardis' zoomies runaways just to STAND THERE AND POSE as he waited for Ruby??

[realkeylogger]

drew this instead of working on my computer

[emry-stars-art]

Also it’s still St. Paddy’s where I am so the Irishman himself ☘️

[runningupthatvecna]

[stagprince]

Billy Lenz as a Care bear! Rotaryheart ☎️❤️

I had a hard time coming up with a name but I think this one is fine for now. This is what happens when I combine my hyperfixes LOL. If any of you decide to draw his design or something, please credit me!! ^_^ I know this is a super random combo but it makes me happy. :-)

[inadequate-nefelibata]

Steve Martin and Martin Short as Charles Haden-Savage and Oliver Putnam ONLY MURDERS IN THE BUILDING (2021) S1.E10: "Open and Shut" | S4.E9: "Escape from Planet Klongo"

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[shushmal]

Happy turkey day to those that celebrate, I’m thinking about Steve who has absent, borderline neglectful parents but THAT’S ACTUALLY OKAY it’s actually perfect on holidays because Steve’s pretty extroverted and probably has a large group of friends extending from close to “we’re on the same basketball team and Steve will high five your face if you don’t get your hand up fast enough”

so really all he’s gotta do it bat those puppy eyes at some unsuspecting mom and BAM invited to holiday dinner. He probably does rounds, and thankfully he has teenage boy metabolism because he probably manages to fit 7 different moms’ dinner in in one day

And sure, after he graduates he’s not sure if it’s good manners to show up at old teammates’ doorsteps. BUT THEN Mrs. Henderson looks at him mid-November and totally claims him for the day where she’s hosting her brother’s family too. Except Dustin brags to Lucas and Lucas gets jealous so Steve then also has to show up at the Sinclair’s in the evening. Max is already there so Steve drives her home that night with leftovers. (Mike is very secretly butthurt about all of this and is really nasty to Nancy the weeks of thanksgiving and Christmas.)

(Robin’s family doesn’t DO thanksgiving but instead goes camping for the week. Robin hates this, and they wouldn’t let Steve join them even though he had his own tent so she hates it MORE. She tries to mutiny but her mom gives her these sad teary eyes and cries about Robin growing up too fast and robin’s fate is sealed. She and Steve instead have their own tradition of movies and junk food the weekend after, so Robin gets reintroduced real food again. So while Buckley’s aren’t on the thanksgiving rotation, Robin gets special Christmas privileges and Steve stays over on Christmas Eve.)

So by the time Eddie is in the picture, Steve already has standing expectations for his presence that’s not just a drive-by plate cleaning, and he’s kinda sad, he and Wayne don’t usually do much and Wayne has to work usually. But actually how dare he be sad, because Steve’s like “🤨 you’re coming too, stupid” and he Eddie and max go to each house like trick or treaters but for turkey.

Then Steve gets close with Eddie’s friends and they have to start splitting holidays like children of divorce.

One time Steve gets it in his head to hold friends giving the week before. He never does it again.

[postal97]

I HEAR THE SECRETS THAT YOU KEEP

[crystallizsch]

pov ur a pumpkin 🎃