Sherlock preferences

LET'S GET SPOOPY 🎃🕸👻

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.