#use your specials!!! throw the eggs to the basket or in its direction! i am begging you!! i was there waiting because my weapon sucked!

[machine-gun-casie]

Almond Poppy Seed Muffins

you’re hired to help with the menu at colson’s new cafe and the lines of employer and employee quickly blur.

wc: 6k (!!!)

-

“Sit up, man.” Slim knocked Colson upside the head. “Menu person’s coming.”

Colson groaned and lifted his head off of the one table in the unopened cafe. “Tell me again why we booked this meeting for eight in the fucking morning.”

“Because it’s professional.” Slim whispered as the creak of the door echoed in the empty area. “Now sit the fuck up.”

You walked over with your shoulders back and your head held high, looking as professional as possible. Colson’s eyes were comically wide as he watched you approach the table. Your confidence was coming off in waves and Colson couldn’t help but be attracted to it.

Slim stood up. “Hi, you must be y/n.” He smiled at you and reached out to shake your hand. You smiled back and Colson immediately forgot he was hungover. 

“Yeah, I am. You’re the one who talked to me on the phone?” 

“That was me. I’m the manager. You can call me Slim.” Slim pulled back his hand and patted Colson on the shoulder. “This is Kel-”

“I’m Colson.” Colson shot up and shoved his hand in your direction. ”I’m the owner.”

“Thank you guys for calling me in.” You smiled at him this time and Colson almost fell back into his chair. 

“Thank you for coming. Let’s get started, shall we?” Slim said, sitting back down and both you and Colson followed. “We were hoping this could be a collaborative effort, because we want the menu to be unique to us and have some personal touches.” Colson looked at Slim with furrowed eyebrows, he’s never met this version of Slim before.

“Yes, of course. I’ve only got some basic items on my list, I wanted to sit down with you before we get into the trial phase. If there’s anything specific you wanted on the menu, or anything specific you don’t want, we can get that out of the way now.” You pulled out a tablet as you spoke, entering the password and opening your notes.

“There’s only a few items that we really want on the menu, but the rest is up to you.” Slim nodded as you took note of his words on your tablet. “What do you have so far?”

“I’ve got some basic avocado toast, bagels, and breakfast paninis.” You explained, showing them some pictures you had saved. “I’ve been to the surrounding cafes and seen the staples, but I wanted this place to have some unique staples of its own. So I added mini bacon tacos and almond poppy seed muffins.”

Colson’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, I love almond poppy seed muffins! I was just going to tell you to add them to the menu.”

“No way, I love them too!” You beamed at him. “They’re so underrated. Everywhere I look for them, all I find is lemon poppy seed.”

Colson didn’t know how to respond, he just couldn’t believe he made you smile. Before the silence got awkward, Slim cleared his throat. “Bacon tacos? Are those tacos with bacon?”

“No, they’re bacon taco shells. Made them mini because full sized could get expensive in the long run.” You said, showing him a picture. “I’ve seen them online, but never in cafes and never here. Could definitely bring in some customers, everyone loves bacon.”

“Yeah, for sure. I don’t think I’ve seen those around here before. There’s also some things we need to have on the menu.” Slim said, looking over at Colson.

“Yeah, we need blueberry pancakes and cheese eggs.”

“And do you have any ideas for their names on the menu.” You asked, typing away.

“The pancakes are gonna be Casie’s Weekend Special, C-A-S-I-E. With whipped cream and berries on top.” You nodded and he continued. “And Champ’s Cheesy Eggs for the eggs. Oh, and we also got these special coffee beans coming in next month for a specific cold brew. I want it to be called Cold Brew but with the C-O-L in capital letters.”

“That’s just for it’s name on the menu, right? Because I don’t do coffee stuff.” You asked for clarification.

“Yeah, yeah for sure. I’m making that myself, no need to worry about it.” Colson said.

“Okay, good. Is that it?” You asked as you typed.

“We might add some more later, but you don’t need to worry about that right now.”

“Alright, I’ll start the trial phase this week. I’ll test out the recipes and all that. When I’ve polished everything off, we can do some taste testing.”

“How long do you think you’ll take to finish?” Slim asked.

“You should get a call in about a week or two.” 

Slim smiled and nodded. “Perfect, we’re set to open in a few months.”

“I’ll have enough time to train the staff before then.”

“Great, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” You pulled out two business cards and put them on the table, one in front of Slim and one in front of Colson. “This is my business card, in case you need to contact me.”

Colson could have sworn your gaze lingered on him for a second longer than it did on Slim. 

This was not a business card he was going to throw away. No way.

-

The buzzing of your phone pulled you away from your laptop. You were up all night researching and hearing the notification finally pulled you out of the rabbit hole.

It took a while to find your phone in all the blankets on your bed. But when you finally did, the notification that was on your lock screen was not something you were expecting.

Colson requested to follow you on Instagram. 

Woah. Unexpected. 

You opened your phone and accepted his request and followed him back.

- verified?

C- what can i say im a rockstar

- hahaha

- seriously tho, why?

C- u really dont know?

- nope. enlighten me

C- im a rapper

- no way! i work for a rapper now?

C- i guess you do haha

So your night that started off with researching recipes quickly turned into a night researching Machine Gun Kelly.

Song after song and interview after interview, you wondered how you spent your life not knowing of Machine Gun Kelly’s extensive career. You couldn’t say that you had never heard the name before, but this was way more than you expected.

-

Your Instagram seemed to pick up on your search history, so your explore page was only memes about your boss from the moment you googled his name.

You weren’t sure you could look him in the face the next time you saw him, something about two nines on his waist. 

(creds: @ticketstomydownfall​)

- how come you never told me your full name?

C- sorry it just never came up, i never meant to keep it from you

C- i hope you understand

- it’ll take me a while, but im hurt you didn't tell me

And so it began, every time you took a break from menu research you would send memes back and forth. You would send Colson cooking memes he wouldn’t get and he would send you musician memes you wouldn’t get. A healthy balance, you joked. 

But your favorites had to be the Machine Gun Kelly memes. 

-

A new cafe opened a few streets down from Colson’s unopened one, so he decided to check out the competition. He stood in line and read the menu. He perked up when he saw the place had poppy seed muffins in their display. It kind of worried him because he wanted them to be his cafe’s thing, but he wouldn’t mind having one right now.

“Hi! What can I get you, sir?”

“Can I get a cold brew and one of those muffins please?” Colson pointed at the basket of muffins.

“The poppy seed?” Colson nodded and the barista reached over and picked one up.

“Are those almond or lemon?”

“These are almond poppy seed muffins, they’re here for a limited time only. Don’t think we’ll have them back anytime soon.”

The barista put the muffin in a paper bag and instructed Colson to wait by the pick up area. As he waited, he pulled out his phone and sent you a picture of the muffin.

C- new place got almond! poppy seed muffins

C- for a limited time only tho, we in the clear

Ever since you started texting, you had told him not to expect any fast responses. Your sleep schedule was all over the place because you ‘work best at night’ is what you told him. The menu was coming up fast and you told Colson to expect some taste testing soon.

So when he got a response from you within seconds, he was confused. He wasn’t complaining, that’s for sure. It just wasn’t like you.

- look in the corner

He looked up and saw you in the corner looking right at him with your phone in your hands. You laughed when you made eye contact and beckoned him over. He pointed towards the barista and you nodded. 

As soon as his cold brew was in his hands, he dashed over to you. 

“Well, well, well.” Colson smirked, sitting down across from you. “I see you fixed your sleep schedule.”

“Kinda. Just for today.” You smiled. He didn’t know if you always smiled or if you always smiled around him. Colson liked to think it was the latter. “You checkin’ out the competition?”

“Yeah, so are you. What do you think of the muffins?” Colson asked.

“Mine are better.” You shrugged.

“Gotta try ‘em first before I agree.”

“In time.”

-

It had been two weeks since you saw Colson at the cafe. You ended up staying there for a few hours, time seemed to fly by with him. You gushed about the flourishing menu to him and he smiled and nodded. You knew his appreciation towards the topic wasn’t at your level, but he encouraged you to keep going. ‘I like hearing you talk’ were his exact words.

You were a blushing mess by the end of the night. Some insinuations were made and you could definitely tell that he was as into you as you were into him. And you were willing to tease the possibility.

- im not considered an assistant, am i?

C- you could be if you wanted

- i think assisting with the cafe could be considered an assisting position

C- id be inclined to agree

-

Colson needed to get away. He needed out right the fuck now.

He couldn’t bear staring at his bedroom ceiling any longer. The demons in his head were louder than ever and he needed an escape. 

Closing the door gently, he made sure not to make any loud noises so as to not wake anyone in the house. He got into his car and drove off. He had no clue where he was going, he just knew he was going.

He found himself parked in front of his cafe after a few minutes, not knowing how he got there or how he decided this was the place to escape to. He did have the keys on him. He could just head in, put together a couple of those tables that came in the other day and do something with his hands. Anything to get his mind to shut up for a little while.

The click of the keys turning in the lock sent a shiver up his spine. He made sure to lock the door behind him just in case. The thought of someone already being there never even crossed his mind.

Until he heard something from the back. The kitchen.

The kitchen was fully finished a week ago, decked with all kinds of high tech equipment. Worth a shit ton of money. Did Colson really just stumble into a robbery? Of his own fucking cafe?

He stomped over to the kitchen, fully prepared to beat someone up. 

So when he saw you dancing around in a flour covered tank top and shorts with music blasting in your headphones, he had to take a step back.

You screeched when you saw him at the door. “Holy fuck!” Colson laughed as you bent over and put a hand to your chest, taking your headphones out. “My heart just fucking dropped into my ass!”

“I thought you were a robber. I was ready to throw hands.” Colson said nonchalantly as he strode over to you.

“I thought you were going to murder me! What are you doing here? I could have sworn I locked the door.”

“You did.” Colson nodded.

“Shit, right.” You chuckled. “Owner, sorry I forgot.” You pointed at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I asked first.” You shot back at him.

“Right, right.” He nodded and looked down. “Needed to get away. Found myself here.”

He hated the way your eyes softened at his words, he didn’t need pity or help or someone to fucking ask him if he ‘wants to talk it out’. But you didn’t say any of those things, and he really should have known. You were different.

“I told you. I work best at night. Slim gave me the key last week so I can utilize this amazing kitchen.” You motioned to the high tech equipment around you. “Muffins are almost done, actually.”

“Poppy seed?”

“Mhm, about six minutes left. But I got some pancakes right here, if you wanna try some?” You asked, picking up a plate stacked high with blueberry pancakes.

Colson nodded and took the plate out of your hands. You handed him a fork and he cut himself a bite. 

He brought it to his lips and paused, catching your hitched breath. “Don’t play with me! Just eat it!” You laughed, moving the fork into his mouth as he laughed at his stupid joke. His face was thoughtful as he chewed for a few moments. “Well?”

“It’s good.” He hummed. “Really good. But not better than Casie’s.”

“Doubt I can make it better than Casie’s when it’s her name on the menu.” You smiled. “She your girl?” 

The question slipped out before you could catch it. It was swirling around in your jealous head every time you saw the name in your notes. You weren’t exactly flirting with Colson these past few weeks, but if he had a girlfriend you would feel kind of guilty because you definitely caught feelings. 

Okay, you were definitely flirting. The whole assistant meme? For sure. And you were at least attracted to him. And with the way he has been looking at you, you knew he felt the same way.

“My daughter. It’s just me and her.” Colson smiled, knowing why you were asking and definitely not minding clearing that up for you. “She makes blueberry pancakes on the weekends for me. Best pancakes on the planet. Scratch that, in the fucking universe.”

“Aw shit, I can’t compete with that.” You chuckled. “Gotta try the best pancakes in the fucking universe some time.”

“For sure, I’ll bring her over when you finish up to try your stuff. Maybe you can take some pointers from her.”

“No offence to your daughter’s pancakes, but I think I’m good.” You chuckled. “This is my job and I’m damn good at it.”

“Alright, alright. No need to get feisty on me.” Colson laughed, putting his hands up in surrender. “My daughter’s pancakes will always be number one for me. You know how it is. She doesn’t know I’m putting her name on the menu, though.”

“Bet she’s gonna be so happy, I know I would be. I’ve always wanted my name on a menu.” 

Colson nodded and looked down at the counter that you were leaning against. Your phone, which was placed on the same counter, lit up with a notification that revealed your lock screen.

The notification wasn’t what caught Colson’s attention, the music that was playing did. “Are you- are you playing my music?”

“What?” You asked, your hand quickly darting to cover your phone. Colson laughed and pulled your hand away.

“No no no, I saw that.” He chuckled, grabbing the phone. “Loco? Not what I expected you to like, to be honest.”

You shrugged and pushed yourself away from the counter. “It’s got a good beat to whisk to.” You moved away from him and towards the oven and slipped on some mitts.

“The muffins are done? I didn’t hear a timer.”

“It’s all up here, pretty boy.” You smirked at him, tapping your finger against your temple. “If I leave them in any longer they’ll burn.” You explained, dropping the piping hot muffin tray onto the counter.

Colson’s hand slowly reached over to the tray, but you slapped it away before he could touch one. “Ay, they need to cool down! Still didn’t even finish them, man.” You huffed as you took off the oven mitts. You looked at him and saw him staring at you. “What?”

He just smiled his little cute ass smile and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me. What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Your hand came up to wipe at your cheeks.

Colson held your wrist and pulled it away from your face. “No, you don’t have anything on your face. You just…”

“Just what?” You don’t know when you started whispering, but it felt like you had to. The moment, so fragile and intimate, you didn’t want to scare it away.

“You look really fucking cute right now.” Colson breathed out, his eyes not once leaving yours.

“You don’t just say that to a girl, Colson.”

“Who said I was just saying it?”

The moment lost its preciousness when Colson put his hand on the hot muffin tin. “Ah fuck!” He brought his hand up to his chest, cradling it.

“You’re so stupid, you know that?” You chuckled as you led him to the sink. “Come here, let me run some cold water on it.”

“Fuck me, I just ruined the moment, didn’t I?” He asked as he let you tend to his hand.

“A little, but you didn’t completely lose me.” You mused, teasing him. “I gotta put the glaze on the muffins, then you can have one.”

“There’s glaze!” He asked excitedly. “I fucking love the ones with the glaze on top.”

“I know.” You hummed, taking the bowl with the sugary glaze and spreading a little on each muffin. After you finished all of them, you went back to the first one you covered and popped it out of the tin. You held it up and brought it to Colson’s mouth. “Try it.”

He bit into and moaned almost sinfully at the flavor. That fucker knew what he was doing. 

“These are so fucking good.” Colson groaned.

“Damn right they are. You know how hard I worked on that recipe?” You exclaimed, proud the muffins came out as good as Colson made them seem to be.

“Really fuckin’ hard, I take it.” Colson replied. “Come here, you gotta taste it.”

Before you could take a bite out of the muffin, Colson put his finger under your chin and led your lips to his.

You pulled away a few seconds later, breaking the kiss. “You’re right, that tastes really fucking good.”

“You keep talking like that and I don’t think we’re gonna make it outta this place.” Colson smirked.

“The staff room’s got a couch.” 

-

(Elvgren Brunette Pin-Up Girl “Let's Eat Out”)

C- you last night

- excuse me?

C- what?

C- ur the sexy muffin girl

- how dare you?

- i would never burn my muffins

C- dude

C- im tryna flirt with you here

- well try harder

- 

Colson didn’t expect to walk into the cafe the next week with Slim and his daughter to see you wearing his shirt from that night. Casie was just excited to eat the food, so she didn’t notice. 

But Slim noticed. Colson coming home without a shirt wasn’t crazy. But you wearing said missing shirt? Yeah, he saw this coming. He smirked at Colson who tried to brush it off but his blushing cheeks betrayed him. Holy fuck, you had him blushing. What the fuck was he going to do with you?

You told them to sit tight while you brought out the plates. When you disappeared into the back, Colson mumbled something about going and helping you out.

“Nice shirt.” He smirked.

“Thanks, I got it from this guy.” You teased.

“This guy?” Colson raised his eyebrows at you as he picked up two plates.

“Yeah, tall lanky blonde dude. I don’t know if you know him, but he’s a rapper.” You smiled, expertly carrying four plates in your arms. “He’s verified on Instagram.”

Casie and Slim both watched with amused smirks on their faces as you and Colson walked out of the kitchen giggling. 

With you none the wiser, Colson mouthed ‘Shut up!’ at them. Slim snickered and Casie raised her hands up in surrender. You placed two small plates on each placemat, not aware of the conversation going on around you.

“First, we’ve got the mini bacon tacos.” You said, pointing at each plate. “The bacon shells are filled with a spinach and scrambled egg mixture with a few slices of fresh avocado.”

“Oh my god, dad! The tacos are made of bacon!” Casie exclaimed when she looked down at the plate. 

“Stop drooling and eat your food before I do.” Slim mumbled through a mouthful of bacon taco.

“Ay!” Casie shot Slim a look and used her hand as a shield against her taco. “Don’t you touch my food.”

“Then eat it!”

“I will, get off my back!”

“Hey!” Colson shouted, getting their attention. “No fighting in front of our guest!”

Slim and Casie looked up at you and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” They apologized in unison and you fought hard to not let out a snort.

“It’s alright.” You giggled. “Do you like the tacos?”

Casie stuffed half the taco into her mouth and nodded. “Iss real goo’.”

Colson chuckled and wiped some avocado off his daughter’s face. “I think that’s the equivalent of three michelin stars.”

As everyone cleaned off their plates of all eggs and bacon, you remembered something you wanted to mention.

“Now, next are the blueberry pancakes. But before you guys dig in, Casie, I need to ask you something.” Casie perked up at your words. “Your dad told me that your pancakes are the best in the universe. And because this is his cafe, I would like it if he liked my pancakes too. So if you have any advice for me, I’m all ears.”

Casie looked between you and the pancakes for a moment. 

“I’m gonna guess that you don’t use the boxed stuff, right?” You nodded. “Alright, I’ve got one trick that I use. But you gotta promise not to tell anyone.”

You stuck out your pinky and nodded. “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise.” Casie looped her pinky with yours and smiled. “Y’all gotta shut your ears.” She said to Colson and Slim.

“But-”

“No buts!” She stopped Slim. “Shut your ears!” Casie watched her dad and uncle as they slowly covered their ears with their hands, confused and trying but failing to hold in their laughter.

“Alright, my trick is hazelnut milk. I use it instead of normal milk. Makes it kind of taste like Nutella, and Dad loves Nutella. And I add a teeny tiny bit of cardamom powder. The tiniest pinch. Made the recipe all by myself, so I better get credit.”

You smiled and made eye contact with her. “Trust me, you’re gonna get your credit.”

-

C- my jaw still hasn't recovered

- shouldn’t that be my line?

C- remind me to never show anyone our texts ever in life

- noted

C- are you free tomorrow?

- yeah why?

C- meet me at the cafe at noon

C- theres something i wanna show u and casie

-

You smiled when you saw Colson and Casie approaching the cafe. You had gone to the store so as to not arrive too early, but you still beat them by a few minutes.

“Hey.” Colson smiled. “You brought stuff?”

“Yeah, just a few secret ingredients.” You nodded, holding the canvas bag behind your back. “If I show you, I have to kill you.”

“Can I see?” Casie asked.

“Of course.” You scoffed and winked at her.

“Hey! How come she can see but I can’t?” Colson asked incredulously. 

You shrugged and giggled. “Why are we here, Colson?” You asked, changing the subject. 

“Something came in today.”

“The coffee beans?” You asked, hoping you’d get a taste of his COLd brew. Yes, you told him it was stupid. No, he wouldn’t budge.

“Nope, the chalkboard.” He waggled his eyebrows at you.

Your eyes lit up. “For the menu?”

“Yup.”

“Dad, can I help? Please, I wanna do the border.” Casie pleaded.

“Of course, special girl.” Colson nodded at her. “You gotta help bring it out, though.” 

“Let’s get the chalkboard!” Casie jumped up and tried to open the door.

Colson told her to hold on, the door wasn’t unlocked. He pulled out his keys and turned the lock, opening the door wide enough for Casie to run inside.

“It’s in the back.” Colson called after her.

She ran past you both to the staff room.

“She’s cute.” You chuckled once she was out of earshot.

Colson walked into the cafe with you and closed the door behind him. “Yeah, she got it from me.”

Before you had time to reply, a resounding crash came from the back.

“Casie!” You both dashed to the back to see if she got hurt.

“I’m fine!” She said once you both walked into the room. Casie was fine, but the long cardboard box she was pulling was no longer upwards but flat on the floor. “I think I broke it, though.” She winced.

Colson sighed and dragged his hand down his face. “Case…“

You smiled at Casie to calm her down. “It’s alright, as long as you’re not hurt.” You approached her and pulled her into a side hug and observed the fallen box. “Let’s see the damage out in the front, come on.”

The box was pulled out by all of you to the front where you opened it and pulled out the chalkboard. The chalkboard that was once one piece was now distinctly two pieces.

Casie sighed dejectedly. “I broke it bad.”

“No, no. This is definitely not bad.” You reassured her and looked over at Colson to back you up.

“Yeah, princess. This is not bad.” He said, not really knowing why it was great but only playing along with you as to not make his baby girl feel bad. “Why is this not bad?”

You laughed and kneeled down to fully pull out the two broken pieces out of the box. “We can make it look intentional. See, the crack is going diagonally down the middle. You can do the border around each piece. It would look really cool.”

“That would actually look really dope.” Colson said as he finally understood what you were getting at. “None of the other places have anything like this.”

“See? Told you.” You nodded. “What would you do without me, huh?”

“I have no clue.” Colson mumbled as he knelt down to sit next to you. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear it, but you sure did. “Alright, y’all can do the border. Leave the rest to me.”

“You sure?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at Colson. “It’s gonna take you a while.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You have everything written down somewhere?”

You nodded and pulled out your phone from your pocket. You opened up your notes app and handed it to him. “This is my latest draft for the final menu. Do with it what you wish.”

And so you got to work. Every time you tried to peek at what Colson was writing, he’d push you away and say it was a surprise. So you stuck to what he assigned you. The border took you and Casie no time, even after adding some doodles here and there and signing the bottom right corner.

“Dad?” Casie perked up.

“Yeah?” Colson asked, still focused on his penmanship.

“You good to finish it up?”

“Yeah, why?”

“y/n and I need to go to the kitchen.”

“You do?”

“We do?”

“Yes.” Casie nodded at you. “We do.” 

“Oh!” You smiled, remembering the bag you had brought with you. “We do!”

“Mhm.” Casie smiled sweetly at her dad and hopped up and headed towards the kitchen. “Come on, y/n! No time to waste.”

You giggled at her antics and shrugged at Colson. “No time to waste, I guess.” You grabbed your bag full of ingredients and followed the little sassy child to the kitchen.

You placed the bag on the counter and smiled at her. “So, how many do you wanna make?”

“Not many.” She shrugged as she helped you take out the ingredients. “Just a few to try out the recipe.”

“Good idea.” You nodded. “I changed my original recipe a little bit, added your suggestions and a few more things. That cardamom powder is a great addition, by the way.”

“Thanks!” Casie beamed. “So you’re a chef, huh?”

“Not exactly.” You mused as you pulled out the bowls and measuring equipment. “If we had to get technical, I guess my job is a menu curator. I help people make menus for their cafes or restaurants.”

“But dad said you make really good food.” Casie pointed out as she measured some dry ingredients into a large bowl. “Did you learn it by yourself or did you go to school for it?”

“A little bit of both.” You paused to help her not spill the flour and continued. “I’ve been to a few culinary schools, but only the ones that you attend for a few months. But I’ve always loved cooking.”

“So this must be your dream job, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess it is. You wanna crack the eggs?” You asked and handed her the eggs when she nodded. “What’s your dream job?”

“I’m not really sure, I’m only eleven.” She shrugged and threw out the egg shells. “But I really like the music industry. So probably something in that. Maybe a producer or something. I’ve helped out Uncle Slim on some of my dad’s stuff and it was fun.”

“No way! That’s really cool. I know nothing about the music industry, if I’m being honest.” You confessed.

“Did you know about Dad’s music?” She asked. You paused for a moment, knowing this was coming. Casie wasn’t stupid, she knew something was going on between you and her dad. She wanted to make sure you were right for him. And she was definitely not going to beat around the bush to find out.

“Not when I first met him. But he followed me on Instagram and I asked why he was verified and he told me.” You said.

“Oh.” Casie said, pausing to think of what to say next. “Okay.”

You looked at her and furrowed your eyebrows. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” She nodded as she poured out the hazelnut milk into a measuring cup. “I like you, y/n. And I know my dad likes you, too. If he didn’t think you were a good person, then I wouldn’t even be here.”

Pushing the bowl closer to her so the milk wouldn’t go on the counter, you stayed silent so she could continue. “And I know you were wearing his shirt the other day, which means my dad really likes you. But you gotta know that being with my dad comes with stuff not everyone likes. I know you like me, which is obvious because I’m amazing.”

“Yes, of course.” You nodded semi-seriously, giggling with her.

“But there’s also his music and the whole public thing, which gets weird sometimes.” Casie’s eyebrows rose as she spoke, indicating that she’s seen enough to know what she was talking about. “They say things and they lie and they might drag your name through the mud. But some people forget that the things they say only last for a news cycle.”

“You are wise beyond your years, Ms. Casie Baker.” You pointed at her. “I think meeting you has been the best part of working for your dad.”

-

A week later, Colson called you back to meet at the cafe. After making the pancakes with Casie, Colson refused to show you the menu. He insisted it still needed more work and that neither of you could see it until it was properly set up behind the front counter.

Both you and Casie moaned and groaned, telling him a little peak wouldn’t hurt. But he held his ground.

Walking up to the cafe, you saw that Colson and Casie beat you this time around. Colson was sitting down as Casie jumped around him, begging him to remove the white sheet hiding the chalkboard on the wall.

“Hey guys.” You said as you opened the door.

“y/n!” Casie called, running up to you. “Thank god you’re finally here! He made me wait this whole time.”

You looked up at Colson who was shaking his head. “We’ve been here for eight minutes.” He chuckled.

“That’s a whole four hundred and eighty seconds!” 

“Ay, that was some nice quick math!” Colson cheered and held his hand up for a high five. 

Casie slapped his hand and walked over to the menu. “Alright, she’s here. Can we please see the menu now?” She pleaded.

Colson sighed and nodded. He positioned you and Casie to stand in front of the board and placed your hands on your eyes. 

“On three, open your eyes.” Colson instructed as he held onto the white fabric. “One, two…”

You and Casie waited for him to continue only to hear him snickering. “Dad!”

“Alright, alright.” You heard the fabric fall to the floor. “Three!”

You gasped when you finally laid eyes on the long awaited finished menu. Colson somehow made all you and Casie’s little doodles crisper and more vivid. The border around both the pieces had some additional patterns here and there, obviously courtesy of Colson. Your eyes scanned the names of the menu items quickly, most of them already known to you from your notes.

“Casie’s Weekend Special?” Casie asked after a moment of silence, looking up at her dad. “No way! Are those the pancakes?”

“Yeah, you like it?” Colson smiled.

She giggled and jumped up to hug Colson. “I love it!”

“I told you you’d get your credit.” You smirked at her.

She climbed off her dad and gasped. “You knew?”

You nodded and she attacked you with a hug too. You laughed as you almost toppled over from the sudden embrace.

You continued reading the menu when Casie climbed off of you. You chuckled at the ‘Bomb A$$ Bacon Tacos’ and at the ‘COLd Brew’. You smiled when you read ‘y/n’s ALMOND poppy seed muffins’.

Wait what.

“Colson…”

“You said you’ve always wanted your name on a menu. Besides, it’s your recipe.” Colson stumbled back as you attacked him in a hug this time.

You sighed against the skin of his neck and whispered a soft ‘thank you’. You pulled back and stood there for a bit, just looking at his piercing blue eyes. How can someone’s eyes be so blue?

“Oh my god! Just kiss her already!” Casie exclaimed.

“Woah! Where did that come from, little lady?” Colson turned to look at Casie without letting you go.

“You guys are making major goo goo eyes at each other. Just kiss! I’ll cover my eyes, don’t worry.” She said, placing her hand over her eyes.

“I mean, she’s kinda-”

You cut him off by placing your lips against his. Casie giggled as she peeked between her fingers. Colson furrowed his eyebrows and groaned his disapproval into the kiss, waving his free arm at his daughter. 

You giggled against Colson’s lips and pulled his waving arm back. You pulled away and reached out one arm around Casie and dragged her into the embrace. “Your dad is a real romantic, Casie.”

“Thanks, I taught him well.”

“Yeah, you really did.”

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

The better to taste you with, sweetheart

(Hayffie trick-or-treat 🧡 🔥 NSFW. Sexual content. Thanks @chocolateshipcookieblog for the prompt. This fic is a bit all over the place, but so is Halloween, so I just went with what came up. District 12 started feeling a little like Stars Hollow, so I kind of embraced that too. Now I can’t look at a lollipop without picturing it in Effie’s mouth, and I’m not complaining 🍭. Writing this was fun and touching.)

***

A fire burned in a wood stove in the corner of the Hob where people gathered for the town hall meeting. The large brick building held the chill of early autumn. Effie shivered, regretting her decision to wear only a sweater rather than a coat. She huddled close to Peeta. Sae’s granddaughter held Effie’s hand in a childlike way, swinging her arm periodically. Effie didn’t mind the connection with the unusual woman who was her neighbor now. That evening she appreciated the warmth of her hand.

“I told ‘em they were buildin’ this place too big,” Greasy Sae said matter-of-factly, not caring if the mayor or anyone in particular heard her or not. “A body gets cold in here no matter the size of the crowd.”

“Sure beats the heat in summer,” a man behind them said.

Effie peered over her shoulder and recognized him as one of the spice traders. “Spice” was a term used loosely in 12 to refer to dried roots, stems, bulbs, barks, and herbs, including tabacco and cannabis.

“Summer gets real hot.” He glanced at Effie from her forehead to her shoulders, then his eyes shot back up without gazing further. It was a look she knew well now. In 12, no one in his right mind stared wantonly at Haymitch’s girl, at least not openly, even when they were drunk or stoned.

The town hall had drawn a decent size crowd. More folks started showing up at those meetings once the council stopped hosting them every month and switched to quarterly. The people of each district had representatives and a governor, but those positions dealt with broad political issues, leaving local issues to be facilitated by a mayor and a town council.

It was Effie’s first autumn since letting go of her apartment in the Capitol, and Peeta was a dear to be joining her that night since she hadn’t wanted to go alone. She figured the only way she’d stop feeling like an outsider in 12 was to walk the line awhile between being present and being nonintrusive. She had a lifetime of experience walking lines much finer and more perilous than that one, so the task suited her.

The Hob filled with the fragrance of coffee brewing. People in attendance sipped mugs of it and devoured the muffins Peeta brought, baked with fruit from pawpaw trees. Katniss had encountered a grove of them in the woods. The fruit dropped in late summer and early fall, and Katniss gathered up what she found after hunts.

The mayor called the meeting to order and proceeded with the usual agenda: reconstruction updates, old business, new business, and so on. Effie was fairly bored until some new business sparked her interest.

“Since last year’s revival of All Hallows’ Eve was well received,” the mayor said, “The council invites all to attend this year’s festivities which will be held on the last night of October. We’ll have a bonfire again at the meadow’s edge to honor the departed. In the first two hours after sunset, everyone is encouraged to participate in the ancient tradition of guising.”

“Guising?” Effie murmured the question to Peeta.

He whispered back, “Dressing up in costume — mostly creatures from old stories. And going door to door after dark for treats — sweet foods, coins for children, liquor for adults.”

Costumes, sweets, money, alcohol... that sounded to Effie like regular living in the old days of the Capitol. But this tradition, one night each year under the cover of darkness, was something unique. In the Capitol they’d only celebrated national holidays.

The mayor continued, “Spread the word... anyone planning to offer treats, please remember to light a lantern or a candle on your doorstep in order to avoid the — confusion — we had last year.”

“Confusion?” Effie quietly asked Peeta again.

“Pranks on people who were home but not answering their doors: knocking late into the night, tossing a few eggs at windows, minor mischief.”

Effie could guess who probably refused to answer his door. This year that was going to change if she had anything to say about it, which of course she did.

***

On the last evening in October, Haymitch slouched on the sofa in front of a fire with his feet propped up on the coffee table. The flames burned low, but he felt too lazy to add another log. He reached instead for his glass of whiskey.

He could already hear people gathering near the meadow. Bonfire, music, dancing... traditions to honor the dead. Folks were saying that a long time ago All Hallows’ Eve was celebrated as some “sacred” night when the “veil between worlds” is thin and the dead are close. Katniss had a few memories of her father telling *ghost* stories that his mother used to sing about. The old lady had been a strange one for sure. To Haymitch it all seemed like load of horse shit since “dead” meant decayed to bones, then nothing and gone forever.

“Traditions” for Haymitch had always meant the ones that happened under Snow’s control. Reaping Day had been the big “holiday.” Work paused and citizens dressed up. Those were government orders. Eventually people shamed their neighbors who didn’t stop working and didn’t wear nice clothes. They no longer needed government to do the punishing about not following traditions because people did it to each other. Families whose children didn’t get reaped celebrated quietly, behind closed doors, reserving special food for the occasion if they could afford to do so. *Holiday traditions* didn’t sit well with Haymitch.

“Manners!” Effie scolded as she approached from the kitchen and saw his bare feet on the coffee table.

“Loosen your corset. There’s a coaster right here.” He said it without looking at her.

Not wanting to start an argument just then, she bit her tongue as she moved toward the fireplace. “I’m not wearing a corset tonight.”

His peripheral vision caught a flash of red, and he turned to watch her. She wore a velvet cloak buttoned down the front. She pulled off a long satin glove before grabbing a log to throw on the fire.

His eyes passed over her from head to toe then back up again. “What’s this?” he asked, with a smile on his face.

She slipped her glove back on and confronted him with her hands on her hips. The hood of her cloak was pulled up, and her hair peeked from beneath, framing her face in blonde curls. Her makeup was light, apart from her lipstick which was as crimson as blood.

“My costume, for guising.”

His expression was a mix of intrigue, amusement, and irritation.

“I told you weeks ago that we’re going, and I mean it! Posy’s already on her way over here. I’m paying that girl a small fortune to hand out cookies and quarters and whiskey, so Hazelle doesn’t have to wash dried egg off YOUR window panes tomorrow like Peeta said she had to do last year.”

“Whiskey?! I didn’t agree to give out liquor to freeloaders.”

“Everyone is doing it. You’ll be receiving as much as you’re giving away.” Effie sat beside him on the couch, crossing her legs so the cloak parted near the fur-lined hem where she’d left a couple of buttons unfastened. Above knee-high boots, her thighs were covered in lace stockings.

“You’ll be wearing that?” His mouth watered for treats other than food and drink.

“All evening.”

He reached out to her thigh, but she smacked his hand before he could touch her.

“What the hell!” He sat up straight, aroused by the sting of the slap as much as by her appearance.

“You get to touch me when we’re out of the house, not before!”

“That’s extortion.”

“That’s PATIENCE... and holiday spirit!” She softened the blow by adding, “...I’ll be touching you too — if you want.”

Yeah, I want. “No corset? Hmmm. So what are you wearing under that cloak?”

“You’ll see tonight — after we visit everyone, and we’re home.”

“That’s more extortion!”

“That’s more patience.”

“And what am I supposed to wear?”

“It doesn’t matter, honey. With me dressed like this, they’re not going to be looking at you.”

***

Twilight was fading, and the last trace of blue drained from the sky. Effie had never seen more stars than she did when looking up from the clearings of 12. She slipped a flat round disk of hard candy from a wax paper sleeve and held it up by its wooden stick.

“Shine the lantern on it,” she directed, “I want to see the color.”

The lantern swung casually at Haymitch’s side. He didn’t lift it up. “Why’d you insist on us bringing this thing when we could each be using a flashlight? Or better yet, sitting at home where there’s electricity. Or lying in bed pretending we’re not home.”

“If we’re in bed, then people coming to the door are going to know we’re home. I wouldn’t be quiet, and you’d wind up smothering me with a pillow.”

“That sounds accurate.”

“Besides, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Too dark to find it.”

“What’s too dark — the night or you?”

“Both.”

She stopped walking, and he followed suit. With him it was always easier to catch flies with honey. She slid the basket of gathered treats over her wrist. It was growing heavy with pastries, fresh and dried fruits, nuts, and confections like taffy from the sweet shop in the Hob.

She reached above the zipper of his coat and stroked the hollow between his collarbones. “I like the darkness in you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere when I’m freezing my ass off.” Her fingertips were warm, red satin against his throat. The gloves stretched from her hands to her elbows. When she’d pulled them on earlier that evening, he wanted her to touch him right then.

“Let’s see...” She moved her hand away. When he was about to protest, she nestled her body against his and slipped her gloved fingers beneath his coat, into the back waistband of his pants. “Your ass is still here, and it’s not frozen.”

She teased his flesh without grasping, drawing him out with her, not home for sex. He felt the difference. If he wanted something now other than this “guising” nonsense, then he’d need to do some coaxing of his own.

He encircled her waist with one arm and murmured against her temple. “Why do you need a lantern when you can just taste the thing?”

With her hand in his pants, her mind started spinning things she wanted to taste. The heels of her boots brought her mouth up close to his. He smelled like the wool hat and sweater he’d dug out from the cedar chest, the ale they’d been given at the previous house, and bites of chocolate.

“What ‘thing’ would I be tasting?”

“That lollipop ...unless you have something else in mind.”

Even as she clenched the thin wooden dowel, she’d forgotten it. “A lick would be good...” She touched the tip of her tongue to the corner of his mouth. “...But maybe I’ll need to suck on it awhile.”

Reluctantly she slipped out from the warmth of him and pulled away, transferring the basket of treats back to her hand.

He lifted the lantern, otherwise it would have been too dark to watch her suck on that stick of candy, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to miss that.

She opened her mouth slowly and met the lollipop with her tongue, then lingered a moment before drawing the candy inside. She pursed her lips around the stick, and her cheeks sucked in. Her tongue moved side to side awhile, savoring the flavor. When she pulled the stick out, her lips were still puckered. The candy followed, glistening in the lantern light.

Her mouth turned up at the corners. “It’s okay to blink now,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “So how does it taste?”

“Find out for yourself.”

She held out the lollipop, but he didn’t take it. Instead he wrapped his hand, gloved in leather, around her satin-clad one. He tugged her toward him, and tasted her. She was sticky sweet, like white sugar sprinkled over warm berries.

The kiss sent the sweetness coursing through her. Her breath came out in a rush over his tongue. He felt it everywhere.

“Damn, Effie. Let’s go home. I wanna take off your cloak. I can hardly feel anything with these gloves on.”

He was tempting, but she steeled herself against temptation. “Not yet. We haven’t been to the mayor’s house or the bonfire.”

“The bonfire? Shit. You didn’t say anything about that.”

“It was implied.”

In the lantern light, she watched him scowl.

“Implied...” she leaned in again and murmured against his neck, “...Like the sex we’ll be having later. I didn’t say anything about doing that either, but you know we will.”

“Fine. ...While I’m waiting, feel free to keep sucking on that candy.”

Effie slid the basket over her wrist again, laced her fingers with his, and enticed him with the lollipop between her lips as they strolled on.

***

“Ah, what do you know! It’s Haymitch Abernathy, out on All Hallows’ Eve. Effie, you’ve accomplished a miracle.” The mayor poured them each a cupful of brandy.

“This is WONDERFUL, Taylor. It’s the council that’s accomplished a miracle.” Effie sipped the drink. The ability to make small talk with anyone was a long rehearsed part of her skill set.

“You are dazzling in red. Why don’t you wear that color more often?”

“I save it for special occasions.”

“Haymitch, who are you supposed to be? ...The woodcutter?”

“I’m pretending to be a nice guy.” He downed the brandy in a single gulp.

“Ah, a wolf in sheep’s clothing! Well, ‘nice guy’ looks much better on you than the *grumpy old man* costume you wore last year.”

“Very funny...”

Effie half-expected the words to be followed by a snide “sweetheart.”

The mayor dropped a brown paper package tied with blue ribbon into Effie’s basket of treats. “Fudge. From the sweet shop. After last year’s pumpkin explosion, I’ve sworn off baking.”

“When I visit Peeta or Sae’s kitchens, they make me sit on a stool and drink coffee.”

“That’s not a bad deal.”

“I agree.”

The mayor glanced around, then whispered, “Truth be told, I overcooked the pumpkin intentionally, figuring I’d be spared future requests for baked goods. But the explosion was a surprise.”

“My lips are sealed.” Effie finished her drink, and they handed the glasses back to the mayor.

“I’m heading to the bonfire. How about you two?”

“We were just about to—“ Effie started, but Haymitch interrupted with his hand on her back.

“—make another stop. Maybe we’ll see you later.”

***

“What other stop?” she asked when they were walking on the road again.

He slid his hand up her back and grasped the nape of her neck, caressing her through the velvet. “I didn’t get all *dressed up* tonight to spend time with the mayor. I wanna be with you.”

She wrapped her arm around him and hooked her thumb on his waistband. “I want to be with you too. It’s almost too bad there are people crawling all over town tonight.“

“Come here.” He lead her around the side of the Hob.

“I am NOT making out with you behind the dumpster!”

“Keep going. I know what you like and what you don’t.”

The back of the building was steeped in shadow. There were a couple of pallets stacked high with wood for the stoves. He lead her along the narrow passage between them to a spot sheltered under the eaves.

He took the basket from her hands and set it on the ground along with the flickering lantern. She smiled as she backed up against the brick wall. “Do you bring all the girls here?”

“Just you... Red.” He pulled off his gloves and dropped them beside the basket. “I’m done waiting to touch you.”

He held her hips and pulled her lightly against him. One hand shifted to the small of her back. The other brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. The crimson color lingered elsewhere now, on the rims of unwashed liquor glasses and a discarded lollipop stick. Her lips parted, naked and soft.

“I want this mouth on me.”

“Where, honey?” She was already inching down the zipper of his coat.

“You choose.”

She snuggled against his sweater. His body was warm and hard, and she immediately wanted more than what she felt was accessible in the shadow of the Hob.

Her hands touched him first before her mouth. Satin fingertips traced around his coat collar, pushing it low. She sucked the tendons on the side of his neck, up to his jaw and back. Then she bit down.

He flinched, groaning in a mix of pain and pleasure. He gripped her wrists, holding her against him rather than pushing her away. “Is that how you want to play this?”

“Uh huh,” she mumbled against his neck, kissing gently now. “I’m making some marks. Everybody in this town is treating me like I’m *yours*. If that’s how it’s going to be, they should know you’re mine too.”

“I haven’t been telling ‘em anything.”

“They know it just the same.” She plucked kisses like a rope around his throat, then bit him on the other side.

He let it all happen, anticipating the sensations, and flinching again. He nudged her against the wall, letting her feel what she was doing to his body. “You know, I can get you off right here,” he said.

The same force that spent a decade pulling her to 12 was tugging at her now. Everything inside her melted like that lollipop in a mouthful of hot brandy. The temptation was too much. “We have to be quick. Anyone might find us.”

“So what? If they see you fucking me, that’ll offer ‘em more clarity about us than you biting up my neck.”

“Haymitch, there are children!”

“So we’ll keep our clothes on and stay quiet... mostly. No kids are gonna be scarred — not even you, sweetheart.” He toyed with the top button of her cloak.

“How do YOU want to play this?” she asked.

“I wanna see you.” He unhooked the buttons, keeping his eyes fixed on hers, waiting to take in the sight of her all at once, whatever it might be.

After the last button was unfastened, she didn’t wait for him to open her cloak. She did it herself.

Damn... She’d been walking all over town wearing nothing under that thing except a white neglige and a thong. Both were made of some sheer fabric that hid little to nothing of her. The thin silk straps around her hips matched the ones over her shoulders.

“Effie...” He wanted her. Every bit of her. And he knew the thing that people had been thinking was true. She had him. Nothing was changing that, unless he drank himself to death, or she left him — whichever came first. Later, when more blood was flowing to his brain, he might be afraid of that awareness. But for now he was hers.

“Surprise.” She beamed. “You better come closer, or I’m going to be the one freezing my ass off.”

His arms went around her within the cloak, and he crushed her against him, taking in the sensations of her with his hands and mouth.

Her palms skimmed up his back under his shirt. “Closer...” she urged.

“You first.”

She’d spent a long portion of her life in gloves. Her fingers were nearly as dexterous within fabric as they were bare. She opened his pants and pulled his dick into her hands, working him between her palm and fingers. He thought about letting her make him come like that. But he wanted to be inside her.

His hands were warm when they slipped into her thong, bracketing her with fingers in her folds and spiraling just above. When he touched her, everything quickened. She stroked him with insistence and moved against his hands with rapid cadence.

Far too much noise was coming from her throat. “Where’s that pillow so I can smother you?” he teased.

“Just fuck me,” she pleaded, “Now before we’re arrested.”

He untangled his hands from her thong. She lifted one of her legs, and he hiked it up in the crook of his elbow, flattening his palm against the wall. The heels of her boots brought her up to a perfect height to fuck like this. She slid her thong to the side, and he dipped within her — plunging, stirring. She met his thrusts with her own.

He clutched her waist and pressed her against the bricks, commanding stillness. “Don’t move your hips.”

“What!” she huffed, “Fuck you, Haymitch! I’m so close.”

“PATIENCE,” he teased with her inflection in his voice, “Wait for it, and it’ll be better. You know I’m right.”

She knew.

He was close too. She was all satin and velvet inside and out. Her breasts brushed against his sweater. It was so much.

She was crying out, and “Shhh” was accomplishing nothing. He covered her mouth with his palm. His pinky pressed against her nostrils. She could breathe, but barely. They’d played this game before. Adrenaline surged through her body as she came undone. She clung to his neck as her thighs shook. Her whimpers passed through the closed slits between his fingers. Her eyes were wild in shadow, never leaving his.

“I know, honey. I’m right here... Oh, fuck. I know... Goddamn it... Effie...” He heard her name several times as he climaxed. He must have been the one saying it, since his hand was still covering her mouth.

When he let go of her, she sucked in the night air, still clutching his neck. She was high. So high like this.

“Are you okay?” He panted.

She caught her breath. “The mayor, Greasy Sae, the damn spice trader, they’re all right... I’m yours. I just am. It’s like breathing. Even when it’s hard to do, I’m still yours.” — It was the closest she would come to a declaration of love.

Her words moved through him like the music he heard in the distance. He was chuckling, not knowing exactly why. Release mostly. The lantern flickered near their feet. The hood of her cloak had slipped back, and her curls were stretching into wisps, fatigued like his body. She was so beautiful.

“I’m pretty sure my neck is bleeding now, so apparently that makes me yours too.”

“Oh...” Oxytocin was working its magic, and she filled with empathy. She pushed the coat off his shoulders so she could see. Her teeth marks were there, but no blood was dripping. She slapped his chest. “You’ll live.”

They pulled apart far enough to put themselves back into a semblance of order: readjusting, covering, zipping, and buttoning up. Then he held her until she was warm enough to move out again into the night.

***

They returned to the road, rather than cutting through the meadow. Yeah, “dead” meant decayed to bones, then nothing and gone forever, but Haymitch still didn’t want to be walking across a mass grave, no matter how thick the grasses were growing, no matter that flowers would pop up in spring.

Effie felt the energy of the evening diffusing. Sparks from the bonfire floated away on the breeze with red maple leaves. Haymitch carried her basket in the crook of his elbow where her leg had been settled a short while before. In that same hand he held the lantern. Both of her arms wrapped around his free one, the way he held her sometimes in sleep.

That night, children who had never known the Games wore their blankets around their shoulders to be heroes or over their heads to be ghosts. They cuddled their blankets in their arms as they grew tired and snuggled against their parents, or whoever they had left to love them. Effie’s Nana had held her like that, once upon a time. Many years passed before she experienced again that quality of feeling.

She squeezed Haymitch’s arm tighter, and her eyes filled with tears. If someone had asked her all the reasons why, she couldn’t have told them. Some emotions are too layered to translate into words on cards. They’re unexplainable to an audience of even one.

She paused. “Let’s go home.”

“No bonfire?”

“Not tonight.”

“Okay. Ain’t nothing there that you and I don’t already have right here.” — It was the closest he would come to a declaration of love.

Whether they were taking the path of pins or the path of needles was irrelevant. The thing they had — the one that drew him out and filled her up —was always leading them the same place.

“Let’s stop first at the kids’ porch.” Effie added, “Peeta told me he was dressing up in Katniss’s hunting jacket, and he was going to try to wrangle her into wearing one of his aprons.”

“That I’d like to see... But don’t go getting any ideas.”

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t be caught dead in that hat of yours, and there’s no way I’m letting you borrow this cloak.”

“The mayor did say I look dazzling in red,” he joked.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint the mayor. ...I’ll let you wear my lipstick.”

“Only if you kiss it onto me then kiss it right off again.”

Some *traditions* might not be so bad after all.

[jovialyouthmusic]

Special Delivery

I make plans to take in a lodger, and we discuss living arrangements. Ginger chafes at being kept inside.

Word Count 2839

A/N no warnings, just fluff and a little frisson of excitement. No under 18s please

6 Working things out

It was the day I had booked the removal company to move my belongings to my new home, and take some other items back to my terraced house ready to rent out in a month or two. I also had to put Ginger in his cat basket and take him there. The house had a porch, and the main door lead into the kitchen with the dining room just off it. There was a hall beyond the kitchen, with stairs leading to the first floor. The lounge was to the right of the kitchen, and to the left there was the bathroom and a good sized downstairs room that could be a study, but which I had decided would be Fabio’s bedroom. Upstairs there were two more rooms, one of which was to be my bedroom, and the other I would use as a box room or study. There was a tiny ensuite bathroom for my use.

Ginger was confined to the upstairs spare bedroom while the removal men brought in the furniture. I planned to keep him inside for a week before being allowed the freedom of the garden and the fields beyond, so he knew it was his new home and wouldn’t try to find his way back. I felt sure he would be very happy with the countryside behind the house and wouldn’t stray, but thought it best to get him familiar with the inside of the house.

The day was difficult, directing the men as to what went where, and making sure Ginger was safe and undisturbed upstairs. We all stopped for a lunch break and I took a look at my phone for missed messages, which I had put on airplane mode. I stared at the number of text messages from Fabio, and opened the first.

Lisa, I was bad last night

Are you busy? Call me?

Please answer, I’m sorry

I dialled his number straight away, and it was answered in a flash

‘Fabio, it’s me…’

‘Senora – Lisa’ his voice was raw. ‘I was bad, I drank too much…I didn’t go to the gym’ I interrupted before he got any further

‘Fabio, all you did was throw stones at my window’

‘I’m sorry’ he said faintly

‘It’s fine, we all make mistakes. I told you to go home, that’s all’

‘What did I say to you, senora?’

‘Just that you think about me a lot’ He was silent for a moment

‘I do. I’m sorry Lisa, I can stay in my flat, you don’t have to have me at your house’

‘It’s fine, really’ I assured him. ‘Look Fabio, I’m still busy, but when I’m settled you can come and see me and we’ll talk. Is that okay?’

‘Yes. Thankyou, you are kind’

‘Do you have a hangover?’

‘My head hurt. I’m better now.’

‘Good.’ I answered ‘Next time we get drunk together.’ At last I heard him chuckle

‘Perhaps. We talk later, yes?’

‘Yes, I promise.’ I rang off, and took a deep breath. It would be a good idea to lay some ground rules with my new lodger – presuming that we went ahead with him moving in. I wanted him to come, of course, who wouldn’t? He was my Instagram crush made flesh. But meeting him in person was different. He was genuine, inquisitive, and funny, and I enjoyed his company. I knew he wouldn’t be around for long, so I was going to take things as they came.

‘Hey – Miss?’ The removal foreman was trying to get my attention. ‘We’re good to go now – what next?’

-------

By the time I had everything where I wanted it, checked on Ginger and had something to eat, I knew Fabio was working, and I was exhausted. I made sure all the windows were closed and the door locked, and let the cat investigate the house. He was hesitant at first, and went round sniffing everything. He wolfed down his kitty kibble when he saw it, and cast a disdainful eye over his litter tray. I was too tired to do anything but go to bed, so that’s what I did, leaving the door open so Ginger could join me if he wanted. Before I put my head on the pillow I sent a text to Fabio.

All moved now. Tired, will call you tomorrow.

You don’t want to order pizza?’

Not now thanks, going to bed.

Sweet dreams senora x

I stared at the little kiss at the end of his message, and found myself kissing my fingertips and placing them on the screen before I put the phone by the side of the bed and laid my head on the pillow. Ginger jumped up on the bed and nestled into the crook of my knees again as I drifted off to sleep.

-------

The next day dawned with sunlight creeping around the edges of the curtains. I had slept well as it was so much quieter. That would be different in the spring and summer when the dawn chorus was at its height, but in late autumn it wasn’t light until a decent time anyway. Ginger raced in from whatever place he had moved to and butted his head against me to tell me his dish was empty.

‘Okay Ginge, breakfast it is. Do you like your new home?’ He wound round my legs as I pulled my dressing gown on, and yowled at me to hurry up. As I sat in the dining room eating toast he jumped up onto the windowsill and chittered at the birds outside.

‘Not yet, Ginger.’ I told him. ‘you’ll have to stay inside a week or two, can’t have you going back to Jackson Street.’ I scratched his head and he huffed at me in surprise before breaking into a purr. I looked at the time and thought that perhaps he would be up and about after a long night shift.

Morning Fabio

He didn’t answer straight away, so I went outside, making sure Ginger was shut out of the kitchen, effectively meaning he couldn’t slip outside when I went back in the house, which didn’t please him at all. I hated being unkind to him but it was for his own good. My phone rang and I sat on a bench looking over the lawn, still neat from Martin’s good deed the other day. It felt strange to think it was my home now.

‘Buenos dias senora.’ His voice was sleepy.

‘Oh, I’m sorry did I wake you?’

‘Yes, but is okay.’ I wondered if he was still in bed, and thoughts of his toned and bare chest and belly filled my mind. ‘It went well?’

‘Yes, all to plan. We should meet up and talk about things.’

‘Si, si – ah yes. We go for coffee after the gym?’

‘Yes, where would you like to go?’

‘You choose, senora – somewhere English.’ 

‘Okay. How about the coffee shop under the town hall – Suzie’s Pantry?’

‘I find it – I call you after the gym?

‘Okay, see you later.’

As promised, I arrived not much later than I had planned, to find him sitting waiting with a cup of black coffee. He got up and greeted me with his usual kiss on the cheek and a warm smile.

‘Hola Lisa’ he said ‘Tell me, what would an Englishman have for a late breakfast?’

‘How hungry are you?’ I asked.

‘Not too much’ he replied. ‘I know about your ‘full English’

‘You could perhaps have a bacon butty if the full English is too much’ I suggested. Typically, the full English breakfast was a bit of a belly filler, consisting of bacon, sausage, egg, and other things such as baked beans, tomatoes and black pudding depending on where in the country you were and what was on hand. He raised his eyebrows in query ‘a buttered bread roll with bacon inside’ I explained ‘and you can have sauce – you know, like we had with chips – ketchup or brown sauce’ He nodded, and I called the waitress over to order.

‘I pay’ he offered ‘you are hungry?’

‘It’s a little early for lunch but I’ll have the same as you.’ I called the waitress over to order, and she went off behind the counter to talk to the cook.

‘I am embarrassed, Lisa.’ he said as she disappeared. ‘I came to your house and threw stones at the window. I think I only wanted to talk – but it was wrong of me. Can you forgive me for being stupid and drunk?’

‘Of course I can, Fabio.’ I said gently ‘But I came here to talk about you moving in with me.’

‘You don’t want.’ he said sadly. ‘I understand.’

‘’No, it’s okay. We should just probably set a few ground rules.’ He looked puzzled again, and I thought perhaps that wouldn’t translate properly. ‘What I mean is, decide how much you pay, how much you help in the house, that sort of thing.’

‘You want me to move in?’ he asked.

‘Yes Fabio, I do.’ He reached across the table and took my hand in his, his gaze intense.

‘Eso es muy, muy bueno - maravilloso – it’s good.’ he said earnestly. ‘I tell you now, the person below me, he called me bad names. Is not a good place.’

‘Oh Fabio, why didn’t you tell me?’ He shrugged.

‘It is no big deal, but I want good memories of England. Staying with you will…’ he smiled at me ‘I will remember it well’ I noted that he had not said like a brother again, and drew a shaky breath. The waitress brought our order, and I asked for more coffee. Fabio put sauce in his bacon butty and tucked into it with relish. I smiled and took my time with my butty. The window seat we had was good for watching people outside walking from shop to shop in the autumn sunshine.

‘I try to get some modelling work.’ he said ‘Fly from Newcastle or Glasgow to Germany or Spain.’ I quirked an eyebrow at him. ‘Is easy, no? I go and work for a week, come back here, rest, another shoot until I have money for the flight to Argentina and more.’ I shifted uneasily in my seat. The idea that I could lend him the money to go home was at the back of my mind, but the truth was that I didn’t want him to leave – not yet.

‘People think the life of a model is glamorous.’ he went on, taking another sip of his coffee. I carried on munching my food. ‘I told you – there is much waiting around, sitting in makeup, waiting for the right light if you’re outside. The pay sometimes is not good, but if I don’t work, people don’t see me and it’s hard to get more work. So this winter I look in Europe for the summer shoots. If I am lucky, it will still be summer when I go back to Argentina, and then I work there.’ He grinned ‘Some times I don’t know if it’s summer or winter. I model winter clothes in summer too, that is hot work’ Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief that I had not offered to help him pay as evidently he had been expecting to spend some months in Europe anyway.

‘Your Instagram account must help raise your profile.’ I commented.

‘Yes, I must take some more photos soon. Perhaps I drink tea in your garden.’

‘If you like, you can move in tomorrow on your day off. How about you pay half the rent you’re paying now, and do some work in the garden – and maybe some housework – washing up and so on? You don’t have to give me any money until you’re settled up with your landlord.’

‘Yes. I like. We should write it down.’ His face brightened ‘I can cook for you – my paella is muy bueno’ He made a gesture with his fingers, pressing them together with his thumb, kissing his fingers and gesturing upward with his hand.

‘You might struggle to find good ingredients. We can go shopping and take a look in the supermarket.’ Something struck me just then as he went back to finishing off the muffin.

‘I have a bicycle in the shed. You could use that to get to work – I don’t have to drive back and forth, you don’t have to wait for the bus or call a taxi – and you keep fit.’

‘Marveloso!’ he grinned. ‘I ride your bike to work.’

‘It’ll be easy going in.’ I remarked. ‘It’s all downhill, but coming back will be hard in the dark, and if it rains…’

‘There is an English saying for this – we cross the bridge when we reach it?’ I smiled.

‘Well done - we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’ I corrected him. He had a good vocabulary, only the word order and some tenses were not quite right, but I reminded myself again that I would do no better with a foreign language. Besides, it was adorable and added to his charm. I suspected that unless one learned a language very early on in life, you would be unlikely to be fluent, and the matter of accents added to the complexity of language.

I decided we should go back to the house to take a look and see if he needed anything else and work out a few details, so Fabio paid and we walked to the car and drove straight there. Once there I greeted Ginger again, who baulked for a moment at Fabio, then remembered who he was and rolled over to show his belly, stretching luxuriously before leaping up and rubbing round his ankles for a head scratch. I showed my guest the downstairs room and its layout and briefly showed him the two upstairs rooms.

‘If you have the downstairs room, I’ll have these.’ I explained. ‘And we can share the other downstairs rooms – lounge, kitchen, dining room.’ I had my own tiny ensuite bathroom upstairs with a shower and toilet, and the downstairs bathroom had a bath with shower over it. He was happy with the room, and we sat down and wrote out a rough agreement.

After that, we went outside to the shed, which was full of gardening tools, the lawnmower and various DIY tools that my father had used in the past. Fabio helped clear a way to get the bicycle and took it out onto the lawn to check it over and give it a test run while I lingered in the shed and smiled fondly, remembering my father showing me how to saw wood or hammer in a nail. I was an only child, so he had no sons to pass his skills on to, but he taught me all the same.

After making adjustments to the saddle and checking the brakes and tyres, Fabio declared that the bike was roadworthy. However, if he was going to ride it after dark he would need lights, and I made a note to visit a bike shop in town to get them.

‘You offered to make paella some time’ I reminded him ‘I need to do some food shopping, so we can go and see what the fish counter at the supermarket is like’

‘But yes.’ he grinned. ‘We go now?’

‘Sure, we just need to put the bike away and get some bags and we’re good to go.’

‘Good to go.’ He gave me a thumbs up ‘I know this one.’

‘Great – you see to the bike and I’ll lock up the house.’

-------

A little while later, I dropped Fabio off at his flat. He had decided to get fresh ingredients when he cooked, which wouldn’t be for the next couple of days, and I had done some food shopping for the next week or so. Once home, I had pasta with pesto, and a glass of white wine. We had agreed that he would move in the next day, as Mario had allowed him to quit the flat straight away – Fabio thought he had a couple of tenants waiting and would be glad of the income. It did mean he lost his deposit, but he thought it was a price worth paying, and he said he was looking forward to sleeping somewhere quiet with plenty of fresh air and outdoor space. I could understand that, as it was a major reason for me quitting the other house.

I went to bed after washing the few dishes I had used, realising that I’d have to tell Martin at some point what I had done. He would probably give me more dire warnings, but I was happy with things as they were – or would soon be. Everything had happened so fast, but then, I told myself as Ginger snuggled up behind my knees that I deserved some excitement and romance.

[vegajoyce]

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[baburaja97-blog]

New Post has been published on Vin Zite

New Post has been published on https://vinzite.com/the-top-money-making-methods-widely-used-by-bloggers/

The Top Money Making Methods Widely Used By Bloggers

I have noticed while browsing through the articles over on my blog that most of them don’t appear to be very friendly towards new bloggers.

You often find that the more experienced you become in a subject that it actually gets more difficult to write helpful articles for people that are new to it.

This is my first article to be aimed at people new to blogging and concentrates around the most popular methods in which one can make an income from their blog.

I’m sure you know that the web is crawling with advertisements but if you are relatively new to blogging or Internet marketing, in general, you may not know that the advertisement industry is a market that literally anyone can tap into and take a share of the profits.

Due to the sheer size of the web and the opportunities available a blogger is able to make money from his or her blog in many, many different ways no matter their skill or experience level. I am now going to introduce you to the most common means by which bloggers are currently making the most money….

Pay Per Click Ads

Pay Per Click ads are literally everywhere you look on the Internet and are probably the most popular and most effective way in which a blogger can cash in from their blog. As a PPC publisher by publishing the ads on your pages you gain the opportunity of earning revenue every time someone clicks one of your ads.

Google currently offers the largest, most successful Pay Per Click ad service. Unless this is the first time you have used the Internet I can say that you have at least came across an AdSense ad if not even clicked on one before. These are the self and same ads that you can publish on your own website or blog in order to make money.

There is one major factor in making money from PPC and that is targeted traffic. The big thing with current Pay Per Click ad programs is that the ads are contextually relevant to your websites content. Contextual ads are ads that are served to you website or page based upon its actual content. Since the ads are relative to the content this increases the chances of someone visiting your site actually clicking the ad since it is more likely to be displaying something interesting to them. For example if you have a blog about football and you are running context based ads on your site then the ads will be related to football While this works most of the time there are some situations in which the ads served on your page may not seem relevant to the content. This can be caused by a few things but two of the main causes are poor use of keywords in your content and the lack of advertisers in your niche if it is a very small one.

Widgets

Widgets are extremely popular and usually reside in a bloggers sidebar. There are constantly new services popping out from the virtual woodwork and throwing new widgets at people. Quite a new entry to the advertising widgets playing field is Widgetbucks. They are called Widgetbucks simply because they serve their ads in a widget. Other than this they are essentially the same thing as most other PPC programs. If you search around for other widgets you can use to monetize your blog you should have no problems finding some interesting ones.

Selling Services

If you can offer any form of service online then this can potentially hold massive profits. Maybe you are a professional writer or designer. Services like these can be incredibly profitable and your blog is a great place to advertise and sell them.

Selling Digital Products

Anything that you can offer through online distribution methods can be sold as a digital product. Fewer people are buying music, video games and software and are now opting to purchase them digitally. If you have the ability to create any form of digital product be it a video game, music track, sound effects, screen savers then you have the opportunity to market them through your blog or website.

When it comes to selling digital products, one place I highly recommend is Clickbank. If you have a digital product you would like to sell you can allow Clickbank to handle it all for you for a small commission. Clickbank not only allows you to sell your own products but you can also sell other people’s products too. They allow you to sell other people’s products via a specially formatted link on your website or blog and you will receive commission on every sale you generate.

Merchandise

With so much competition online for sales of physical products, this is probably the hardest revenue stream to break into. However, selling physical products can still make you a lot of money if you do it properly.

By merchandise I don’t mean wide screen TVs, furniture, video games, movies or anything like that. Recently a family member mentioned to me how she likes to write poetry and she showed me some that she had already written. After looking through the 3 inch thick folder and reading a few poems it dawned on my that this could be a valuable skill to her. The cherry on the cake was when she said that she had previously had two of her poems published in a poetry book so I suggested selling them online as framed pictures with the poems as an overlay and seeing as how she can roll poetry off her tongue like….something that rolls a lots also suggested writing custom verses for people for special occasions. We are now discussing various ways in which her poetry could be integrated into different products and have plans to build a blog where she can market them.

For those who you who do not have the means to create a physical product you can always use a service such as Cafepress. Cafepress allows you to run a store full of products with your own designs such as mugs and shirts and will even print books with your own content which you can then sell for a profit. All you need to do is create a design and you can upload it to the website and preview it on your products. The products that Cafepress offer are sold at a standard price which you can then add to. Whatever the difference in price after adding to it will be your profit.

Paid Reviews

A paid review is where you may get contacted by another blogger or website owner with a request for you to write a review and post it on your blog for a one-time payment. This income stream relies quite a lot on the status of the blogger. If you are a new blogger then you shouldn’t expect to get results like this until further down the line when you have established yourself better.

Paid Writing

This wouldn’t be a direct revenue stream from your blog but it would more than likely be your blog that would get you noticed for your writing skills. A skilled writer may find the content on their blog enticing other bloggers to request a paid post for their own blog.

Affiliate Marketing

It is difficult to succeed in affiliate marketing as it requires quite a bit of knowledge in general marketing in order to do well. Affiliate marketing is the closest thing to selling your own products and is very different to other ways of making money online which makes it quite a difficult task. While being one of hardest ways to generate a return if you keep at it and become successful the rewards can be huge. Running affiliate ads on your blog is easy and you could probably expect to make a few dollars here and there but to make the big money will take quite a bit of time, research and experience. As an affiliate you will be promoting another person’s product. When you generate a sale you will receive a commission for it. The biggest affiliate program to date is probably the one which Amazon run but there are so many companies now that offer affiliate programs that you can be sure to find a product that you can promote through your blog. Amazon currently offers commission of around 4% on most products but the more expensive products such as electronics tend to have a set commission. If your main purpose of blogging is to generate an income then be sure to look into affiliate marketing. You should, however, be prepared for some hard work if you want to make a decent reliable profit from it.

Donations

One of my favorites. I haven’t placed a donation link on my primary blog just yet but i will be doing so in the near future as soon as i start to offer free wordpress plugins and templates. Donations tend to bring in more on blogs and sites that offer free services such as website templates, blog themes, WordPress plugins, scripts, free graphics, sounds – anything that you would expect to cost a fair amount of money that is offered for free has a greater chance of generating a donation from a happy customer. The reason why free services tend to work the best is that a lot of the time someone may be looking for a plugin or a script to gain certain functionality from their own website but can’t afford to hire a professional to do it for them. If they find what they are looking for for free on your website they may feel inclined to send you a donation as a thank you!

Don’t keep all your eggs in one basket and NEVER give up if something isn’t working out as you’d hoped it would. A lot of blogs fail simply because of the fact that the blogger has become disheartened by their results.

I urge you to experiment with any form of potential income stream you can lay your hands on. If something doesn’t perform well then you can always take it down and try out something else in its place. Experimenting with different ways to monetize your blog can be quite fun and it is interesting to see the different results from each method.