#fahc blurb

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Merry Halloween, Ya Filthy Animal

It’s the day after Halloween and the good cheer comes in a little early. 

Enjoy my masterlist (more FAHC blurbs and fics are up there)

Support me on kofi

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Fiona waiting until the day after Halloween to pop into the local grocery store. She makes a beeline directly to the seasonal section and she can see them putting up Christmas. But that’s not what she’s here for. She’s looking to see if her favorite lollipops are on sale. 

She doesn’t tell anyone, considering they already had work early on in the week and Fiona just wanted to run a quick errand, be normal for 4 seconds by herself. In what should’ve only been a 5 minute trip, Fiona manages to two minutes loading her basket up with candy-- it’s easier to do by just sweeping all the left over lollipops and sweet candies with her arm into the basket-- and another ten minutes staring down the Christmas decorations. 

The garland’s are itchy against her hands, but the miniature Santa’s and elfs are too cute to avoid. As Fiona continues down the aisle, stopping at the chocolates, she can hear the squeak of sneakers behind her. She throws just a quick glance over her shoulder, just to see who it is. And her jaw falls slack. 

“Does she like these?” It’s Jeremy holding up a blue bag. Michael and Gavin surround him.

“Think so,” Michael returns, taking the bag to look over it. He drops it into the hand held basket before reaching for another bag on the shelf. 

“I seriously can’t five minutes away from you freaks,” Fiona teases, walking back down towards them. Gavin squawks at the sound of Fiona’s voice. How had they missed her being literally on the same aisle as them?

Michael snaps his head up and Jeremy shuffles in front just a little. “What-What’re you doing here?” Michael asks. 

“Uh, being a paying customer. What the hell are you three doing here?”

“Also being paying customers,” Jeremy retorts. 

Fiona takes in each of their faces. Michael’s playing is mostly cool along with Jeremy, though they’re stand pretty close together as if trying to hide something and Gavin’s frozen in place just a little, a bag of assorted candies in hand. Why would they need to be hiding anything? She takes a step closer and the three of them shuffle closer together. 

“What’s goin on here?”

“Nothing. Just shopping. Browsing,” Jeremy answers. 

“Uh huh, like I totally believe that.” Fiona takes another step closer to them and watching them scuttle together yet again. She has the urge to swat at the candy in Gavin’s hand. Her hand raises, almost giving into the urge, but thinks better of it and salutes the three of them. 

“See you losers, later,” she states and shuffles down the aisle back towards check out. 

Her return to the penthouse is uneventful. She lounges on the couch, a bag of candy resting against her torso as she scrolls through her phone. TikToks and Instagram reels are a time suck and Fiona chuckles and snorts at each passing one. There’s tinkering in the kitchen from Geoff and Jack. Trevor settles down on the couch next to her to show off videos and memes that he’s accumulated just to show her. 

Soon the front doors open and close with a gentle thud. Peeking up from her phone, Fiona sees Michael, Jeremy, and Gavin with grocery bags in hand. “Sup?” she calls out with a nod. They all return it before walking into the kitchen and start unloading various grocery. 

The rustle of plastic bags last for a few minutes and the sound of one swishing gets closer to Fiona. Something drops onto her stomach. “Merry Halloween, ya filthy animal,” Jeremy teases. 

Fiona swats up at him but misses. “The fuck are you doing? Trying to give me a heart attack?!”Jeremy only shrugs before slumping down into the armchair next to her. 

Fiona peaks into the bag and sees a couple bags of candy. “Wait! For me?” she screeches. She thought it was strange that they were on the candy aisle but she hadn’t thought they were shopping for her. 

“Yeah, I didn’t drop it in Trey’s lap.”

“Wait, no.” She sits up, trying to comprehend. When she looks into the kitchen, Gavin and Michael are cracking open some White Claws but are bugging Geoff about what he’s cooking. “Seriously, you guys got me candy?”

“Oh, don’t cry about it,” Michael calls out, leaning into the counter. “You scared the shit out of us at the store, but figured since it was on sale, we could help you stock up.”

Fiona sits for a moment, unsure of how to process the moment. But her chest warms. “You guys are still losers, but you’re pretty fucking sweet.”

“We try. No matter how much you almost ruined our plans,” Jeremy teases. 

[freedooley]

fake ah crew aesthetic: Zed Direction

The notorious Zed haunts the city of Los Santos as one of the most feared criminals walking the streets. Sporting an air of innocence he could be passed by without a single glance, but when his mask fades away the monster is unleashed from within him. Death follows his trail spreading chaos and ruin: his two favorite pastimes. He is all-powerful, all-knowing, striking fear in those who dare challenge him. His presumed-innocence a mockery towards his enemies. Zed exists as a paradox: an innocent face with a corrupt soul. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A wolf who’s not afraid of a little bloodshed.

[soft-butch-cassidy]

Don’t wanna go to class tomorrow blegggghhhhh

[trecotrash]

22. With fahc anyone?

(How about I do everyone!)

22. Nap 

You hear the guys groan as they all walk into your apartment. “Really, my apartment today?”

“Hey, you’re the one who couldn’t go on our heist today,” Jeremy says as he takes his hat off. You roll your eyes and get off your couch. 

“Even when I’m sick I still have to take care of you guys.” They all sit down around your living room as you grab the first aide kid. Lindsay and Trevor help you out since they only had a few scratches on them. “Now, can I please go and nap now?”

“Want some company with you?” Ryan questions.

“Do as you please,” you answer. Everyone gets up and follows you to your room. “Okay, so it’s a group nap then?”

“Hey, the heist we did today was tiring,” Geoff argues.

“Fair enough.” You open your closet and grab extra pillows and blankets. “I get my own bed though, so you guys can fight over who gets the extra spot and the couch.”

——

Request imagines and blurbs

[ao3feed-mavin]

you and i aren’t the only ones.

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2XXSWpW

by redvox

“do you feel like we’re, uh, doing a good job making you feel like you’re loved?” trevor asks, and he tilts his head. “like, ah, do we make you feel like you have a group of friends that you trust your life with?”

“yeah, i’d say so. [..] but i’d say you’re the best at it,” alfredo finishes.

Words: 1295, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Trevor Collins, Alfredo Diaz

Relationships: Trevor Collins/Alfredo Diaz

Additional Tags: theres one mention of gavin lolzor, its just a short blurb, trying to get a feel for the characters, also theyre underappreciated :(, Fluff, FAHC Au, GTA V AU, FAHC, umm.. think thats it

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2XXSWpW

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

FAHC prompt: Michael doesn’t let people take care of him when he’s sick. They don’t need to be bothered anyway, it’s never serious and he’s good enough at hiding it. So when Michael has stayed in his room for three days in a row, the crew decides to figure out what’s up, not knowing how sick he is.

Thanks for your patience while it took me a while to get to this prompt. I initially got it after one very similar that I did for Jack so I wanted to give some space between those too!

But here we go!

Enjoy my masterlist! (More FAHC is at the bottom!)

Support me on Ko-fi. 

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The Shakes

“Achoo!” Michael’s bows at the power of the sneeze that hurts his throat. “Fuck,” he huffs before sniffling. There’s no good time to be sick but at least right now he can hold himself up for a few days. A few people were off collecting intel and staking out locations. He didn’t necessarily have to pretend not to feel the awful that was overtaking him. But he doesn’t have to worry about the fretting over. 

It’s a lot of soup and vitamin C at first but it doesn’t quite seem to be doing the trick. The aches still catch him in the late evening. The fevers come and he can break them but they keep creeping up. “God, if this is the end, just take me,” he wails from his bed. There’s a nest of tissues that have missed the overflowing trashcan. 

“Michael boi, what happened to you?”

Michael turns to see Gavin, poking his head in through the cracked door. “No, don’t worry about me. I’m just dying.” On cue, another sneeze shakes through his body and he flops into the pillows with a hard sigh. “When did you get back? How long it’s been?”

“Just got back today. Three days. You look like utter shit. Have you taken anything?”

Michael looks over to bottles of Dayquil and Nyquil. “Unless those some sort of fakes, yeah.”

Alfredo’s sees Gavin hovering the door of Michael’s door and takes pause. “What’s happenin’ wit you fellas?” And just over Gavin’s shoulder, Alfredo sees the sea of tissues, Michael’s shivering body and the bottles of water strewn about. Some are empty. Some just have dregs and dribbles of water left in them. “I got something for that.”

Michael tries to protests, tries to tell them not to worry but he never gest the defense out. Gavin follows behind Alfredo. Alfredo scampers around the kitchen, putting a pot onto the stove. Gavin grabs some extra trash bags and gloves. 

When Gavin returns to clean up the tissues and bottles, Michael’s sound asleep, curled up under the sheets and with a fan blowing at the foot of it. IT’s silent as Gavin manages to clean up the tissues and right as he finishes that Alfredo returns, a towel over his arm before rousing Michael awake. 

“I am a grown man,” Michael huffs, but lets Alredo drape the towel over his head. 

“Just humor me for like two seconds,” Fredo giggles before they walk back into the kitchen. Placing Michael over the steaming point, Alfredo continues on chopping veggies and pulling spices down from the racks. 

Michael’s inhaling the vapor, eyes blearing just a little but god, now his nose is finally opening up. “Is this what a nose does?” he cheers into he vapors. His arms flailing just a little as he hold the towel over his head. 

“Yeah, that is what a nose does.” Soon, Michael’s curled up on the couch. Everyone comes by changing out the water, or asking if he wants more of the soup Alfredo made. Michael’s not sure what’s in it. It’s spicy for sure but whatever it is cleared his sinus and his brain. It feels less like he’s underwater and more like his old self. 

When night comes, the fevers don’t ripple him though his muscles do feel fatigued and achy. Though he’s sure that’s just from the battle of the last few days. Curled up in his blankets, Michael taps his knuckles to the door. “Freddy,” he calls gently. He gives another rap before the door creaks open. 

“What’s up? Something else wrong?”

“Nah, just wanted to say thanks. For earlier.”

Alfredo shrugs, a tiny smile pulling at his lips. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Seriously though, it means a lot. Just don’t let anyone else know that I told you that. I’ll have to kill you.”

“Can’t let my friend succumb to the evil germs.” They nod at each other and Michael shuffles down the hallway, grumbling at something or maybe it’s just for the hell of it. But Alfredo watches for a moment, the way Michael hunches overs just to make sure he gets to his room okay before slipping back into his room for the night. 

-H

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Hudling for warmth and DIY bullet removal with anyone you want

I love you, like legit. Thanks! I’ve been itching to write. 😭

You may not know who these folks are. But I love Jeremy and Michael so much. So I’m gonna go with them. 

Enjoy my masterlist. 

You can support me on Kofi! Gotta pay university fees. 

Taken from this prompt list. 

CW: Bullet wounds and blood. 

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Flesh Wounds

“My hat.”

Michael’s grumbling under his breath. His own fingers are shaking. His body still telling him he has to get away; that he’s still in danger. And sure, he’s in danger alright. There’s nothing but the wail of Los Santos PD sirens swallowing them up as he and Jeremy linger in the basement of this old apartment building. 

Michael’s covering one end of the bullet hole and gingerly looking for an exit wound. “C’mon. I swear to fucking Christ,” he sighs. He needs an exit wound. Without it, it means he’s going to have to go fishing. Nothing something he wanted to do, given that he should’ve listened to Matt more about how to DIY a bullet removal. 

Jeremy laughs again, his chest heavy with his labored breathing. “I really should be more upset about being shot in the leg. But no, I mourn for a fucking hat.”

Michael’s listening to Jeremy’s laments about this ruined hat. A stray bullet went straight through the white garment. Michael, at this moment, wishes the bullet had done the same in Jeremy’s calf. It doesn’t help of course that it’s dark as shit and Jeremy’s blood is bright against the yellow pants and his pale skin but it seems like a river of it right now on Michael’s hand. He still hasn’t found that exit wound. 

Finding more cloth to soak up more blood, Michael’s rag snags on something. Jeremy hisses, almost howls in pain and it takes him biting down on the bandana Michael gave him at the start of this janky medical procedure to muffle any cries out, to keep his noise level to a minimum. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Carefully, Michael works to untangle the string of fabric. To his relief though, he finds the casing sticking just above the hole in Jeremy’s flesh. “Thank fucking Christ. No lead poisoning today Lil J!”

Jeremy’s laugh is slightly muffled by the fabric clenched between his teeth. Michael grabs the tweezers and works slowly to remove the smashed bullet. He’s not even sure how the physics of that worked. How the bullet managed to say in such a level part of the flesh and not be embedded, considering the amount of blood too. Unless of course, Jeremy got grazed by one bullet and other hit something on the way to him. Either way, Michael’s just fucking relieved to have gotten it out. 

The sound of the casing clattering to the ground sends a shiver down Jeremy’s spine. Or maybe it’s just a shiver from the slight blood loss. He rests his head against the concrete wall. He can tell his forehead is thick with sweat, dripping down to his eyelids. “One of these days, we’re gonna be really screwed. Like my hat. Just goners, dude.”

It should only be a hat. But, Michael knows it’s not. He knows just a forewarning. They won’t be invincible forever. It’s kind of a terrifying though. That some point they’ll have to give up the ghosts on the heist. They’ll have to take the highs with the lows. No one likes talking about the lows though. 

“Eh, we’ll worry about that when that day comes.” Michael dresses the wound. His stitch job won’t compare to what can be done back at the penthouse. But for now, until the sirens die down, Michael knows it’ll slow the bleeding. 

“I can hear your teeth chattering,” Michael teases, shrugging out of his leather coat. As best he can, he tucks it under Jeremy’s chin and around his shoulders. 

“I-I’ll be fine.”

“Fine my ass.” Michael slides up against the wall. The mess of gauze, bloody rags and the bullet casing sit at their feet. Michael’s conscious not to settle on the side of Jeremy that’s injured and instead, settles up on Jeremy’s left, slinging his arm around Jeremy’s shoulder. 

“You smell like ass.” It’s just a bit of gasoline, stale gasoline. Probably from all the previous heists and jobs where he got a little too heavy handed with his can and matches. 

“You’ll survive. Just need the dickwad cops to give up and then you won’t have to tolerate it anymore.”

-H

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Halloween Blurb Night 2020 Masterlist

Drown Myself in Someone Like You (Harry Styles)*

Harry and Catalina meet like this often, when she can come up. And she’s always been a wild card. Harry joins in just once and learns more truth than he’s ever known about her. 18+ Content. Smut, Mentions of Violence and Death. 

Becoming (Calum Hood)*

Calum’s got to grow up with this daughter, who gets invited to a party for Halloween with your best friend Levi. That leaves Calum almost alone but Bee helps him pass the time and they recount all their old stories of when they’re babies were young. 

Couple’s Costumes Surprise (Calum Hood)

Female Reader Insert. Fluff. Kithes. You and Calum get email with specific instructions on how to dress for halloween. But who’s your match?

Pumpking Carving (Calum Hood)

Halloween is fast approaching and Calum suggest a trip down to the pumpkin patch for a fun little contest. But he’s also got other plans. Reader Insert. No specified race, gender, or sexuality. 

Halloween Sugar Cookies (Michael Clifford)

Michael wants to make cookies for Halloween. And gets a little extra too. (Fade to black sort of deal). Reader Insert. No specified race, gender, or sexuality.

*denotes fics written prior to the blurb night, but are still apart of the Halloween 2020 festivities. 

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Okay what about going to the pumpkin patch and carving them with Calum

I can do that. Reader Insert. No gender or race. 

Halloween blurb night going until 8PM PDT. Writing for Shawn Mendes, 5sos, Harry Styles and FAHC. 

See the Halloween Blurb Night Masterlist. 

Enjoy my complete masterlist. 

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The air is crisp but not too cool as you sit out in the backyard. Your cup of tea is still steaming. Calum’s mug of coffee is creating small tufts of clouds as its own warmth escapes it into the cooler air. The beanie on Calum’s head is low and covers his forehead and ears as he stands, green bag in hand and tying it close. Duke trots up to the door that leads back inside. The thud of the garbage bin top hardly disrupts the call of the birds flying over head. 

“Halloween’s soon. Want to do something?” Calum asks after going inside to wash his hands and settling back down next to you. After the mugs are emptied, the two of you will take Duke for a walk and then the rest of the day will be all to yourself. 

You shrug. “Like should we throw a party?”

“Believe me when I say there are plenty of others that have that covered. But possibly a pumpkin carving? Just us? I dunno. Or a group if you want.”

“The patch in town’s probably got slim pickings now.”

“I know about one a little further out that Luke told me about. He and Sierra went to the one close by and said there wasn’t much left to it either.”

“I’d be down for a road trip,” you agree before taking another sip from your mug. The tea’s still warm enough that the moment it touches your tongue you recoil slightly. “Gagh!” you exclaim. 

Calum chuckles from next to you. “Patience, young grasshopper.” He digs in the tease by taking a pointed sip of coffee. 

“Curse your burnt nerve endings.”

Your walk with Duke is nice. Most of the neighborhood hasn’t waken up yet. It’s early and the sun’s hardly turned the sky a hazy pink to signal the start of the day. As Duke pulls a little on the leash, his nose dug brushing the base of a bush as if something is wrong, Calum makes a quip about being a better pumpkin carver than you. 

“That’s a lot of talk there,” you laugh, gazing up into the more normal sky. The sun’s climbed out more from the horizon, the sky it’s bright blue. “Put your money where your mouth is?” you asks. 

“You the betting type?”

“Against you, Hood? Any day of the week. But we need to find out who’s judging?”

“Poll on IG. Let the public decide,” Calum returns. 

“Fine by me.” The three of you soon start back up and then loop back around to the house. The scents are as new this time around as on the initial loop. Duke is content just to trot along. Back home, you shower and change. You find that it’s at least an hour and half drive so while Calum gets ready, you decide to put together a little basket with some snacks and something for lunch. 

“Having a picnic too?” Calum asks as he slips into his leather jacket, noticing the basket in your head. 

“Just some snacks. In case.”

He kisses the center of your forehead. “Snacks are always important.”

The two of you discuss what’s the best shape of pumpkin to get and what ideas you have. Though the conversation slowly fizzles out and the twinges of the guitars swell around you from the radio. Gazing out of the window you watch the buildings pass by you. It’s all stationary. All unmoving but somehow constantly moving forward too. And maybe that’s just you. Maybe that’s just you constantly moving forward and like from the window of the car it all seems to be moving with you. 

A hand settles into your knee and without thinking you wrap your fingers around Calum’s hand. His thumb brushes along the skin of your hands and it’s just comfort--that’s all you can describe it as as the world stays and you move and Calum rubs and your hand. 

Calum takes your hand as you walk into the patch itself. There are more pumpkins that you anticipated being left but you can still some haven’t weathered the test of time too well. Calum spies a pretty decent looking section and tugs on your hand before nodding in that direction. You follow behind him. Pausing him only once to show him the teeny tiny pumpkins. He laughs at the way you pout. 

“Go on. Grab one,” he encourages and you zip off to grab the most robust looking one of the tiny ones. It fits all too well in the grip of your curled palm and you finally come to the section Calum noticed. 

You turn over pumpkin, pressing inspecting them and trying to envision your design onto it. Calum goes off a little ways, not too far but he too is inspect his choices. You find one that’s tall enough to handle the idea you had for a little cartoon like ghost on the pumpkin and still have some width to it. Clutching your pumpkin close you set the tiny one on top and trot over to Calum, who’s crouched now, tracing over a pumpkin with his fingers. It looks like he’s spelling out something, but you can’t be sure.

“That’s a thinkin’ face if I ever seen one,” you tease. 

He looks up, the sun casting the perfect glow around you and the fly aways of your hair. “Yeah thinking of all the ways I can kick your ass carving this pumpkin.”

You scoff. “You don’t have a tiny one. Clearly, two pumpkins are better than one.”

He laughs. “Clearly.”

“Can we stop by a craft store too? I don’t think we have paints at the house and I have an idea that involves painting the tiny one.”

“Yeah, we can make a stop.” Calum places the pumpkin back onto it’s bottom and searches around for another moment. He spies another one that he thinks might be wide enough for his plan. He stands with a small grunt and throws a pointed finger up at you. “Not a peep.”

You roll your lips together to keep the snicker at bay and trot behind him as he carries on and squats yet again at another potential canvas of the squash variety. He traces again with his finger and you watch out over the patch to take in the sounds of some children and possibly teens laughing. Their smiles are big as they survey their pumpkin pickings. 

“Alright, you all set?”

“Been set,” you return still watching the young group pick up pumpkins to each the group. 

After paying for your pumpkins you set them into the trunk and Calum pulls out the basket. There are some benches right on the edge of the makeshift public lot and Calum suggest a small reprieve to munch on the snacks you packed. Though the food break is short, you enjoy taking the moment just to sneak jelly onto the tip of Calum’s nose. 

“Hey!” he calls out with a laugh. He scrunches his nose and face up when you stretch across and lick it off. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you taste like grape jelly.”

Back home, with pumpkin carving sets and paints spread out on the table in the backyard, and old newspapers from the local gas station covering the table, the two of you set out to cut open, deseed, and carve your pumpkins. You sit across from Calum and can only see the way his tongue peeks out from his lips as he takes the sharpie carefully over the ridges and bumps of the pumpkin. 

You cut open and pulled out the seeds to the big one but switched to painting your tiny pumpkin first so it could try while you wrestled with your actual carving. The little witches hat is perfect on the tiny one and you set it off the side before exhaling and turning to you big on. 

“Scared now? Got you shakin’ in your boots, I reckon. Going up against a professional.” Calum grins, driving the tiny saw into the rind. His sleeves that he previously rolled up are starting to slip. 

“You wish. I’m exhaling because I know you want to, but you’re too scared to show that I’m getting into your head.”

Calum pauses, eyebrow raised but you’ve turned attention back to your carving. And it’s true. You are in his head. But not the way you think and the shakes come back. They first started in the pumpkin patch. He was going to stick with you until you picked yours but he needed a moment to breathe. His plan would work. It would all work out. You two had been dating for three years at this point. You had moved in with him. You two had worked out so that you’d spend Christmas one year with your family and the other with his--but you always made sure on the years that you spent Christmas with your family, that you spend News Years with Joy and David in Australia. 

You coming home for the holidays, or Calum coming home with you weren’t even a point of discussion--in that it was a big deal. Everyone’s family just knew. Where one of you was, the other wouldn’t be far behind. And it all just fucking worked out. So this would too. 

You giggle to yourself, setting the tiny pumpkin into the tiny whole you made so that the hat lines up perfectly onto of your cartoon ghost who’s smiling and there’s a tiny speech bubble with “Trick or treat.” It’s such a silly design but you’re so proud of it, even if your finger are covered in black paint and smell like pumpkin guts. 

“Totally kicking your ass, Hood.”

He scoffs. “I doubt it.” He looks at his pumpkin. He couldn’t go with the full design--he needed two pumpkins he realized when he got the patch. He couldn’t get two big ones it would be too suspicious. But the tiny ring he might’ve butchered attempting to carve it with his lack of art skills but it’s not terrible. The question is still legible and that’s the most important. 

You put in a tiny tea light and watch the ghost flicker and hand one over to Calum too. “Done?”

“Not quite.”

“Okay. I’m just going to start cleaning up a little bit.” The newspaper holding the pumpkin guts is thankfully layered a few times so it doesn’t make a huge mess as you walk over to the garbage can. You take the hose to try and get the paint off but you efforts will work best with soap and water.  

As you settle back down at your side of the table you take a picture of it and watch the way Calum fidgets across from you. “You okay? What’s going on?”

Calum really is a do-or-die situation. He’s already got the pumpkin carved. He just needs to ask. “Not-nothing. It’s okay. I’m done now.” He looks up to you with a tiny smile. It wavers for a second but he continues on before you can ask again. “Reveal on the count of three.”

“Yeah. One.”

“Two.”

“Three,” you two say together and spin the pumpkins around. You hear Duke’s small bark and check for a second but he’s off in the corner tussling with one of his toys and your turn your attention back to the task at hand. 

As you turn back around there’s tiny ring box sitting next to Calum’s pumpkin. Open to a gold band. It’s ornate but still simple without being overly decorated with gems. Marry me? is carved into the pumpkin. You gasps looking up to find Calum and he’s hand settles onto your knees, bringing your attention to your side. The tears blur his face for just a moment. 

“I know you hate too much attention and even the thought of asking this in some stuffy overpriced restaurant wasn’t ideal for me either. But we’ve had a really great three years. And I love you. I don’t know how else to say it is. I want as many years with you as you’ll give me. So, will you marry me?”

You nod before your teeth, tongue and lips and push out the word, “Yes.” Once you can speak, you chant yes over and over even as Calum slips the ring onto your ring and you slip down out of your chair to burrow your face into his chest. “Oh my god, yes. I’d be so honored to marry you,” you exhale bringing your head up to gaze at him. “So, so honored.”

The kiss is soft and short and you both giggle into you. “My ghost pumpkin seems so stupid now.” 

“Your witch ghost is so cute. And thank you. For allowing me into your life.”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

If I can still request... Halloween cookie decorating with Michael?

Yeah, of course you can still request!

Halloween blurb night going until 8PM PDT. Writing for Shawn Mendes, 5sos, Harry Styles and FAHC. 

Enjoy the Halloween Blurb Night 2020 Masterlist.

Enjoy my full masterlist

__________________

“I want cookies,” the proclamation leaves Michael’s lips and you nearly jump int your skin. You spin around and see him rummaging through the fridge is kitten eared shaped headphones still covering his ears. Your heart thunders in your chest but starts to slow just realizing it’s your boyfriend. 

He had previously been shouting at Luke from his office, no doubt the two of them playing a Co-op game and Luke was not pulling his weight the way Michael wanted him too. You suspected Calum had jumped in and out of the game at some point--you think you heard Michael say goodbye to him but you couldn’t be sure if it was a goodbye because Calum had to duck out or a goodbye because Michael had kicked him from the discord server--what they used to talk to each other rather than using in-game comms. 

“Do we have cookies?”

You exhale. “I don’t think so? Check the freezer.”

He nods, with a hum and closes the fridge after refilling his metal canister of water. You hear the freezer exhale as the door opens and he rummages, the crinkle of packages being touched, moved, or lifted. “Hmm, looks like we have a severe lack of cookies.”

“Okay, I’ll go to the store tomorrow and get some. Just write it down on the list for me please.”

The pen scratches against the fridge and then it stops. “Would you be opposed to making cookies from scratch? I think we should decorate them. For Halloween.”

You pause at your sauce pan and look over your shoulder to him, the sleeves to the sweatshirt pushed up now on his forearm and the ears still glowing. “You want to make cookies from scratch?”

He nods. “Can’t be that hard.”

“Okay, figure out what we need then. We can attempt it.”

He smiles, stepping in to kiss your cheek. “Got it. Right after this last hunt.”

“Hunt?”

“Ghost hunting,” Michael shouts in return, his voice already sounding far away. 

“Just don’t bring any spirits into my house, Clifford!”

Your phone buzzes on the counter next to you. You remove the sauce from the heat and wipe your hands on the towel. No promises, Michael replies. You sigh and set it back down. “If he brings ghosts into this house, he’s going need to find God.”

There are a few shouts from the back room but right as you pull dinner from the oven, Michael comes padding back down the hallway and helps you plate dinner. He lets you know that he’s got the list for cookie making on his phone. His excitement is palpable as he talks about wanting to cut them into shapes, ghosts for sure. Possibly buying some bat cookie cutter too. 

“We’ll need pipping bags and icing,” you cut in. 

He snaps his fingers in agreement, nodding, as he works around his bite. He covers his mouth after a moment. “Remind me to put that on the list.”

The rattle of the cart cuts above the soft hum of music from the overhead speakers. Michael is manning the cart, his phone in his hand as he reads over his list. You follow behind, taking in the signs about what’s on sale. The first mission is cookies, but you can see apples and some other produce with red and yellow signs to attract attention so you want to check them out. 

Michael dumps sugar, flour, vanilla, baking soda, baking powder, butter, and eggs into the cart. He finds the cookie cutters and manages to snag the last ones on the hook for ghosts and one for bats. You pick out one that as an assortment of crescent moons, cats, and spiderwebs. 

“Which size tip for piping?” Michael asks and then suddenly the snickers sputter out of him. “I meant for piping icing. But ya know if you have another preference, let me know,” he wiggles his brows at you and you nearly throw the packet of cookie cutters in your hand at him. 

“There are children on this aisle!” You reprimand and shuffle down to grab the assorted package and toss it into the cart. 

“Oh c’mon. You gotta admit. It was pretty funny.”

“God, sometimes,” you start, laughing as you push the cart down the aisle. His laughter rings out behind you as you shuffle down towards produce.

Michael sets out the butter onto the counter first thing, knowing it needs to soften more from his extensive reading of the the Allrecipes website. You pull out mixing bowls and the cookie sheet to help prep the kitchen but Michael pulls you back into him by your hips and you know he’s got another things on his mind. “Well the butter softens,” he whispers pressing a kiss along your neck. 

“Do not make another tip joke, I swear to high heavens,” you laugh in a nearly silent exhale. 

“Nah, no jokes.” His fingers tease the hem of your shirt and push it up just enough to tease the band of skin exposed to him. You melt into him, pushing your hips back into his. It’s all too easy to give in. 

You’re not distraction enough to keep Michael from his cookies though, even as he kisses across your chest, heaving in time with you as your bodies finally start to unwind, he hums, “Cookie time?”

“Yes, yes, cookie time.” He tosses you his sweatshirt and slips back into his boxers and pants before padding into the kitchen. Both of you wash your hands and Michael pulls up the recipe on the iPad you keep in the kitchen just for trying new recipes. 

You level off the flour as Michael measures out the baking soda and powder. Softly he hums a song, but doesn’t seem to be pressed enough to turn on the speakers at all. You let the soft sound wash over him and start creaming together the sugar and butter. You think you should’ve found the stand mixer Michael’s mother gave you at Christmas one year. But you never had use for it and tucked it into some cabinet and now you can’t even remember which one. 

Michael cuts in, to give your arms a break and you move onto looking into the icing. After getting the black one ready, you alternate back to creaming and you two work like that until Michael’s satisfied and adds in the egg. Before long you add in the flour, baking soda, and powder and Michael takes over from there. 

He stands over cutter shapes,arms folding as he gently strokes his head. “Start with cats? Bats? Ghosts?”

“You can start with whatever,” you answer, rubbing at his back. 

“Cats,” he settles and on the rolled out sheet of cookie dough, presses the cat cut out into it. He alternate rows of cats, bats, ghosts, and spiderwebs until the entire sheet is full. You peel up the excess dough and roll it back into a ball before making simple circles for the other sheet. 

“More shapes?” he asks. “Free hands some pumpkins?”

“Sure. So we can both laugh at our terrible drawing skills.”

As the cookies settle into the oven, you scoop the icing from their bowls into the bags and it’s not much longer for the oven beeps at you both. Michael pulls them out and and laugh. A couple that were placed too close cooked into each other. “Emergency surgery,” he hollers, finding a sharp knife. “Excuse me, Dr. You have to save them.”

You laugh but take the knife gently and cut them apart. “Procedure is a success. Move them into recovery to cool.”

Michael sets the sheets on the potholders and finds the spatula to remove the cookies to the cooling rack. “It’s a miracle! You’re a life saver.”

“We do our best,” you return, washing bowls and utensils. It takes another forty minutes to get the kitchen back into order. Michael takes over the cats and ghosts and you take the spiderwebs and bats. The icing oozes just a little, running the second it hits the cookies. “They might not have cooled enough?” you ask, pausing on your first bat.

“Try this black one. That icing might’ve sat out too long,” he says, handing over his bag of black icing. This one is the right consistency and Michael moves onto the ghosts. 

“God,” Michael huffs, stretching his hands. “This is a lot of work.”

“You wanted to do this!”

He laughs, resting his chin on your shoulder as you work on your first freehanded pumpkin. You try to follow the tutorial but are failing with your shaky hands. “I know. I don’t regret. Not being able to spend time with you is always worth it.”

Another kiss is placed to your cheek and he watches the lines of the pumpkin come out crooked. “My hands are too shaky. Michael please take over. I can’t do this precision work.”

He chuckles but takes the piping bag. “God thing I’m a god in finger and steady hand work.”

“I’m literally going to divorce you,” you laugh kissing his back. 

“Good luck with that.”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Potentially, if folks would like, Christmas and Holiday blurb days from December 10-11 (ends Dec. 11th at 9 PM MST). Shawn, Harry, FAHC, and 5sos. You submit your request during those two days and I’ll do as many as I can. I’ll be packing to go back home for two weeks for Christmas. Yeah? 

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Christmas Blurb day!

Send in your requests for Shawn Mendes, Harry Styles, FAHC, or 5SOS