Sexy Halloween Quotes

Let's talk about happy things.What should I be for Halloween? I can't decide between a sexy vampire or a sexy fairy.I've got a whole tub of glitter body gel for either costume,if you want to be the one I'm not!" Faeries and vampires were glittery now? Honestly.

Bwahahahahaha! Happy Halloweeeeen!” I turn away from the closet—where I was just in the process of trying to find a Halloween-esque outfit that’s not a costume because I fucking hate dressing up—and gawk at the creature gracing my doorway. I can’t make heads or tails of what Allie is wearing. All I see is a skintight blue bodysuit, lots of feathers, and…are those cat ears? I steal Allie’s trademark phrase by demanding, “What on God’s green planet are you supposed to be?” “I’m a cat-bird.” Then she gives me a look that says, uh-doy. “A cat bird? What is…okay…why?” “Because I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be a cat or a bird, so Sean was like, just be both, and I was like, you know what? Brilliant idea, boyfriend.” She grins at me. “I’m pretty sure he was being a smartass, but I decided to treat the suggestion as gospel.” I have to laugh. “He’s going to wish he suggested something less ridiculous, like sexy nurse, or sexy witch, or—” “Sexy ghost, sexy tree, sexy box of Kleenex.” Allie sighs. “Gee, let’s just throw the word sexy in front of any mundane noun and look! A costume! Because here’s the thing, if you want to dress like a ho-bag, why not just go as a ho-bag? You know what? I hate Halloween.

Baby,' he said. Behind 'bae', Penny despised 'baby' as a thing for a grown adult woman to be called. It was so prescriptive. Like dressing sexy for Halloween.

I don´t want to be a ghost or a stupid sexy cat. I want to be something that I really want to be.

New Rule: Designers of women's Halloween costumes must admit that they're not even trying. They just choose a random profession, like nurse or referee, and put the word "sexy" in front of it, thereby perpetuating the idea of Halloween as a day when normally shy women release their inner sluts and parade around like vixens, and I just completely forgot what I was complaining about.

When Peter comes to pick me up, I run outside and open the passenger-side door and scream when I see him. His hair is blond! “Oh my God!” I shriek, touching his hair. “Did you bleach it?” He grins a self-satisfied kind of grin. “It’s spray. My mom found it for me. I can use it again when we do Romeo and Juliet for Halloween.” He’s eyeing me in my getup. “I like those shoes. You look sexy.” I can feel my cheeks warm up. “Be quiet.” As he backs out of my driveway, he glances at me again and says, “It’s the truth, though.” I give him a shove. “All I’m saying is, people better know who I am.” “I’ve got you covered,” he assures me. And he does. When we walk down the senior hallway, Peter cues up the Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?” on his phone, loud, and people actually clap for us. Not one person asks if I’m a manga character.

Sunday night is my personal weekly Halloween. I walk along slowly and drag my fingertips along the bars of chocolate. Goddamn, you sexy little squares. Dark, milk, white, I do not discriminate. I eat it all. Those fluorescent sour candies that only obnoxious little boys like. I suck candy apples clean. If an envelope seal is sweet, I’ll lick it twice. Growing up, I was that kid who would easily get lured into a van with the promise of a lollipop. Sometimes, I let the retail seduction last for twenty minutes, ignoring Marco and feeling up the merchandise, but I’m so tired of male voices. “Five bags of marshmallows,” Marco says in a resigned tone. “Wine. And a can of cat food.” “Cat food is low carb.” He makes no move to scan anything, so I scan each item myself and unroll a few notes from my tips. “Your job involves selling things. Sell them. Change, please.” “I just don’t know why you do this to yourself.” Marco looks at the register with a moral dilemma in his eyes. “Every week you come and do this.” He hesitates and looks over his shoulder where his sugar book sits under a layer of dust. He knows not to try to slip it into my bag with my purchases. “I don’t know why you care, dude. Just serve me. I don’t need your help.” He’s not entirely wrong about my being an addict. I would lick a line of icing sugar off this counter right now if no one were around. I would walk into a cane plantation and bite right in... “Give me my change or I swear to God …” I squeeze my eyes shut and try to tamp down my temper. “Just treat me like any other customer.” He gives me a few coins’ change and bags my sweet, spongy drugs.

Halloween would be . . . okay," she says, with all the deliberation of a somewhat uncertain judge delivering a verdict. "But no sexy catgirls. Or boys. No catpeople.

Blythe Pearl knew what true horror felt like. And I was all sorts of fucked up for finding that sexy as hell. Her ass helped too.

I’m going for sexy, spooky ho tonight. Which isn’t too different than my everyday look but, you know.

It would be like me to be in a sexy get-up with food stains

His gaze roamed my body hungrily for a moment before showcasing a red smile, my blood darkening his chin as fire lashed behind him. He was evil embodied as a mind-blowingly sexy man. A vampire, a dragon, mine.

You’re not a maid, Willa.” Her lips quirk up and her eyes narrow. I’ve noticed this look. It comes right before she says something inappropriate. “I was a sexy one for Halloween one year.” I scowl at her. Internally I’m scowling at myself because my first two thoughts were: 1. Does she still have that costume? 2. How do I track down and kill every guy who saw her wearing it?

I’m not sure we’re going to be needing these sexy little panties,” the vampire says as he starts to work them off over my ass and down my legs. “So why don’t I just hold onto them for you?

The hoop-style petticoat swung above her knees. She flashed sheer white thigh-high stockings right up to the pretty blue bows. She swatted down her errant skirt. And nearly dropped the shepherd's crook. The triplets hadn't noticed the mishap, but Jake definitely had. She felt his gaze from behind his mirrored aviators. He cocked his head and grinned. A teasing grin, so sexy and unsettling that she nearly tripped over her own feet. He edged close, lowered his voice, and said, "Naughty wind peeked up your skirt." "So did you." "Nice legs, Peep.

She hustles Wes and me out the door, and I don’t have a chance to peek at my reflection again until we get to Wes’s car. I’m startled by what I see staring back from the dark, dirt-flecked windows. My lips are ripe-apple red, and it changes my whole face. I look like a completely different person—someone bold, sexy, confident. I’m not sure who I’m supposed to be, but I definitely don’t look like myself tonight. And isn’t that the whole point of Halloween?

It’s Halloween on Bourbon Street, and white witch Jade Calhoun is ready to party. But when a sexy spirit traps everyone in the past, she’s forced to forgo the cocktails in order to save those she loves...again.

Remember that scene in Mean Girls where Cady shows up to the party dressed as the Bride of Frankenstein with big ol’ janky teeth, ‘cause she doesn’t know Halloween is supposed to be sexy? That’s you right now. You’re Cady.” I scoff at her. “It’s not that bad. Besides, it doesn’t matter what I wear, I’m never gonna look like you in that jumpsuit . . .” Erin grins. “When god handed out tits, I got in line three times.