english blend


The Strip was positively packed with cars, so even though it was a few blocks too early General MacManus tapped his driver on the shoulder and hardly waited for the jeep to slow down before jumping out and hoofing it towards the Lucky 38. His dogrobber followed suit in a clumsier fashion, lugging a bag and briefcase.

MacManus was big and broad, and had never given a shit about people he didn’t know, if it came down to it, so despite the crowd he was inside the casino within moments, snapping his aviators off and thrusting them backwards for Corporal Smythe to grab. When his glasses disappeared MacManus waved a paw of a hand at the liveried elevator boy, who dropped into a crisp bow and held the elevator door.

MacManus was on a mission, an important one. Of the two major projects he was working on, the first had ended early and the second was starting late. With that in play, he had managed- at great expense of money and mental effort- to carve out a teeny tiny fraction of vacation time for himself, and he was not going to hesitate at achieving it.

During the brief ride up he studiously avoided the elevator boy’s attempts at pleasant conversation, dwelling instead for a moment on the difficulty at hand. The last project he’d have to put his stamp on was ludicrous- a monkey’s job. A few of the eggheads kept wanting to tinker with the M42, adding blast shields and ammo variants. Which meant that he personally had ended up in the godforsaken desert south of Las Vegas at a makeshift observation deck, listening to the junior officers ooh and ah and quote Hindu scripture like it was the second coming of goddamned Trinity. He really pitied the poor grunt down there in the valley who had to nuke some cardboard targets from a grenade’s throw away.

It was a waste of money, and he’d said so, but he put his stamp on it anyway to get the eggheads to shut up, but he’d taken his aide Colonel Tidewater aside to let him know that the budget for the project could be safely decimated. Literally.Tidewater was out doing the legwork on the next project- some relatively practical idea about setting up newly built prisons, hospitals and such so that they could be quickly converted into useful military sites in the event regular bases were targets. Otherwise, he’d be here and there would be someone interesting to talk to.

MacManus felt the elevator slow as they neared the Presidential Suites, but he lashed out with a craggy finger in the elevator boy’s face and waggled it very deliberately. The unfortunate lad blanched but made the right choice, ignoring whatver VIPs had called the elevator.

Here they were at one of the most important targets in MacManus’ sight right now- the Lucky 38 Cocktail Lounge. He pushed out of the elevator before the door was barely opened, leaving his perpetually embarrassed dogrobber to tip and console the elevator boy.

This was it. The Holy Grail. Shangri-la. There were better bars in Vegas, of course, and Robert House’s taste in decorating would never match the Ultra Luxe, for example, but… MacManus peered through rills of cigarette smoke backlit by the sun through the tower’s windows. The view. The thrice-damned view.

He made a quick circuit, taking it in. He didn’t get to come in here often enough. The genius of this view, was that unless you got right up close and peered down, you couldn’t see the filthy city of Las Vegas at all. Seated on his usual chair- which he regretfully bypassed for the moment- he looked out at the mountains, at the thin clouds as they were driven across the sunny sky. Soon enough. Unfortunately, business never ceased.

MacManus made a departure from his routine and sat down at the bar. He reached inside his jacket and removed his pipe- a scuffed, stubby Irish bulldog- and his tobacco, which he had made by Kramer’s whenever he was in LA. It was a dark English blend, and he was sure that the smell of it straight from the pouch would keep anyone from sitting next to him. Once lit, though, it would be a smoke to rival any cathedral’s incense.

The bartender limped over and discreetly handed him a shotglass full of matches. MacManus took them and began to pack and light his pipe without acknowledging the man. Once he was steadily puffing, he looked over and gave the bartender a smile.

“Thank you, Chet.”

“My pleasure, General.” He blinked a bit more than was necessary. The power of latakia. “What will it be this morning, sir?”

MacManus looked past him, behind the bar, and chuckled. The beer taps on display were a joke, the rube’s idea of good beer and whiskey. Horowitz? Dirty Fenster? Jesus wept. House made a mint by catering to the poor schmucks who didn’t know any better. But when dealing with an arrogant sonofabitch like House, of course it was a trap.

The only thing Robert House hated more than a rube was a poser. If you asked for some top shelf booze that wasn’t shown, you’d be served it and made to feel like a king. But then the quality of service would plummet and your luck at the casino would disappear. Your punishment for putting on airs.

General Roderick MacManus was an arrogant sonofabitch as well, and ten years ago he’d made a sort of friendship with Robert House by escaping the trap the only possible way. He had cheated.

“The Satrap 1851, of course, Chet.” It was his family’s whisky, brewed for a short time and raved about by serious imbibers for some time, but discontinued before the Great War and never seen outside of Scotland. His first time at the Lucky 38 he’d asked for it, knowing they wouldn’t have it. He’d endured the embarassment and apologies with a wry smile, but on his next visit there’d been a bottle of it waiting, as well as a discreet invitation up to the penthouse, to talk business.

Chet nodded and went to fetch the drink. MacManus tucked his tobacco pouch back into his jacket and almost relaxed.

His friendship with House had turned into quite the mutual arrangement, and he’d spent many a pleasant afternoon with the man, solving… well, some of the world’s problems. At least until a couple years ago. House had always been eccentric, but at some point at least one of his gears had slipped, and he’d become a recluse. He didn’t leave the penthouse and nobody was permitted in. They’d kept in touch over the defense network (a RobCo product, of course), but electronic letters were a pale substitute for the company of your peers.

“Your Satrap, sir.” Chet brought the glass over to him like it was full of plutonium. Probably as expensive.

MacManus took a contemplative puff, before grabbing his pipe and using it to point vaguely… up. “Is… he taking visitors yet?”

“He is not, sir.” It was quite a poker face. Chet’s talents were wasted in this part of the Lucky 38. MacManus nodded with what he hoped was a reasonable expression, and without looking signaled for his dogrobber. The Corporal responded by swiftly slapping the briefcase on the bar and then stepping back into helpful distance.

MacManus snapped the catches open and reached inside for the souvenir snowglobe he’d had made for his friend. A little joke between the two of them. He set it down on the bar in front of Chet.

“Give this to Robert, with my regards, Chet.”

“I will do, sir.”

“Give Corporal Smythe a drink, please, Chet. Not the good stuff.”

“Indeed, sir.” MacManus grinned and crammed his pipe back in his mouth. He picked up his glass of whisky and stood up from the bar.

“I’ll be in my chair. Enjoying the view.”

Did you know that drinking tea can actually improve your physical and emotional health?

Confession: I’m not a huge fan of black tea. This came as both a shock and a disappointment to many of my relatives, especially since I live in the Deep South, where most people take their sweet tea through an IV. It’s just not my thing. I can enjoy a cup of English Breakfast blend if I’m say, at a tea party or a fancy-ish breakfast, but I definitely don’t see the appeal drinking it cold, and sweet tea has so much sugar in it that I may as well be eating a cupcake or something. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, it’s just not my thing, as I said. 

Herbal tea, on the other hand, is a different story. First of all, it doesn’t taste like tea. It tastes the way flowers smell, and it’s usually loaded with different health benefits, depending on the combination of herbs. My mom always had a couple boxes of the stuff in our pantry when I was growing up, and now we have an entire cabinet dedicated to our impressive collection of herbal blends. I was shocked when I entered the real world and learned that normal people didn’t end every single day with a big ol’ mug of Sleepytime Tea. And because beauty and self-care has just as much (if not more) to do with what you put into your body as with what you put on the outside, I thought I’d make a post about my favorite teas, and the wonderful things they do for your health:     

For Comfort and Stress-Relief: Chamomile

If you asked me what home tastes like, I’d tell you that it tastes like chamomile tea. Chamomile is a daisy-like plant that has been used for medicinal purposes for a really, really long time. There is significant evidence that it has anti-anxiety properties, and it is often used as a natural remedy for stress or even insomnia. As you’d expect, it’s very soothing. If I ever have a particularly rough day, am really worried or stressed, or am having trouble sleeping, this is the stuff I reach for. 

Personal Favorite Blend(s): Celestial Seasonings’ Sleepytime blend (a very calming and slightly minty flavor) or Tazo’s Calm blend (a sweeter, more floral flavor with rose and hibiscus)

For Stomach-Aches, Nausea, and Headaches: Peppermint

I’m sure you’re all familiar with peppermint, or at least with its flavor. What you may not know is that peppermint is one of the best natural remedies for an upset stomach, and recently people have been praising it as a cure for headaches as well. I had someone recommend it to me a few months ago when I was having random migraines, and ever since then I keep a box of it in the house just in case. Bonus: It tastes like candy canes! 

Personal Favorite Blend(s): Celestial Seasonings’ Peppermint tea (the only ingredient is peppermint: you can probably guess what the taste is like) 

For Sore Throats: Licorice Root and Slippery Elm Bark

First of all: this tea does not taste at all like licorice! A few years ago, I came down with strep six times in one winter, and Throat Coat (see below) became my best friend. It was the ONLY thing that made my throat feel less raw and painful. Especially effective when you use honey instead of sugar to sweeten it. 

Personal Favorite Blend(s): Traditional Medicinals’ Throat Coat blend (an earthy, almost spicy flavor)

For Cold and Flu Symptoms: Elder Flower

Elder flowers are actually the flowers of the Sambucus plant, which is similar to honeysuckle. Elderberry and elder flowers are often used in folk medicine to treat the flu, alleviate allergies, and improve overall respiratory health. It also smells and tastes nice, and makes a very warm and comforting tea. 

Personal Favorite Blend(s): Traditional Medicinals’ Gypsy Cold Care blend (slightly sweet and spicy with a hint of mint)

For Menstrual Cramps and PMS: Dong Quai, Chaste Tree Berry, and Organic Raspberry Leaf

(Sorry to any male readers, but this one is too much of a lifesaver not to share.) Ladies, listen up. “Dong Quai” (otherwise known as female ginseng), chaste tree (also known as vitex or monk’s pepper) berries, and raspberry leaves have all been used to treat premenstrual symptoms and improve women’s health for hundreds of years. And here’s the amazing thing: they all work. After drinking just a few sips of this tea, my cramps started to get better within minutes. Also, if your PMS mood swings can get really crazy, this can help with regulating your moods. I literally have about fifteen boxes of this stuff in my cupboard right now, just to make sure I never run out. It’s life-changing.

Personal Favorite Blend(s): Yogi’s Woman’s Moon Cycle blend (a very tasty, cinnamon-y flavor)       

For Better Digestion: Dandelion

I think just about everyone remembers wishing on dandelions as a kid, but those fluffy little weeds are actually full of pharmacologically active compounds and have been used for quite a while to treat infections and liver problems, and to improve digestive health. Who knew, right? It’s great for a detox, or for drinking every day to help keep your digestive track healthy and toxin-free. 

Personal Favorite Blend(s): Traditional Medicinals’ Dandelion tea (a very mild and delicate flavor) 

For All-Around Better Health: Green Tea

I’ve saved the best for last. This one is quite possibly my favorite on this list; it’s definitely the one I drink most often. And I know it’s not technically an herbal tea, as it is made from actual tea leaves, but green and black teas are VERY different (green is much better for you, from what I understand). To me, green tea has a taste that’s kind of halfway between herbal tea and black tea, and it’s very satisfying. And it’s literally overflowing with health benefits. It’s high in antioxidants and contains a variety of helpful enzymes. It can actually help improve the clarity and overall-appearance of your skin, lowers cholesterol levels in your blood, has been clinically proven to speed up your metabolism almost immediately after drinking it, reduces your risk of death from cardiovascular disease, may reduce your risk of stroke, and has been proven to gradually lower blood pressure if consumed on a daily basis. I’m absolutely in love with green tea: I tend to drink 1-3 cups of it every day, and I can literally feel an improvement in my health since I started drinking it. It also contains a small amount of caffeine, so if coffee makes you jittery you might want to give this stuff a try instead.       

Personal Favorite Blend(s): Stash’s Premium Green tea (a slightly herbal flavor that reminds me of my favorite veggie rolls for some reason) and Yogi’s Skin DeTox blend (a sweeter, more floral flavor with hibiscus and rose petal: tastes more like an herbal tea than an actual green tea)

What we put into our bodies is reflected in how we look and feel. I know that, personally, I’m much happier to sip on a nice, steamy mug of one of these teas than on a can of soda, which I’m sure my body is thankful for. They just taste so good! I love when healthy things happen to be delicious, don’t you? :)   

CSJJ Day 21: My Favorite Part of the Day

You run a coffee shop and say I’m your best customer, when a bad blizzard hits, I’m crazy enough to brave the storm to get my coffee, and you persuade me to stay for my safety.

My contribution to @csjanuaryjoy!!!! Tagging @icecubelotr44 so she can add it to the FF.net collection

I want to dedicate this to the lovely @kdanna03 on the occasion of her birthday. Thank you for being a wonderful human being. I love you, darling.

Also, this is loosely inspired on one of the love stories of Love Actually.

Ao3  FF.net

My favorite part of the day

He first came in on a late spring afternoon. The season hadn’t even begun, it wasn’t even summer, so Emma was instantly intrigued by the dark-haired stranger who walked into her coffee shop.

Storybrooke couldn’t even be considered a tourist attraction, it was more a remote and forsaken town lost along the Maine coastline. But during the summer, from time to time, a few daring adventurers would show up. They were usually the occupants of passing sailboats, choosing to dock in town for a day or two and replenish their supplies. Some of them even braved the woods, hiking for an afternoon before coming back into town to a few dinner options and only one bar.

The Dark Swan was a short walk from the docks, in a coveted location that offered both a view of the sea and the woods. It was the only coffee shop in town and Monday to Saturday, from seven in the morning until eight in the evening, Emma would serve the local patrons a small but high-quality variety of coffee, tea, pastries, and sandwiches. Then she’d lock up and climb the stairs to the small loft above the shop where she lived.

It wasn’t much, but after decades of being alone and struggling to find her place in life, it was hers. And it felt a lot like home - or what Emma thought home should feel like.

Keep reading

pjo language headcanon dump:

  • Nico is a linguist of sorts, he loves studying different languages - how they work and what makes them uniquely them.
  • Hazel studies and studies and practices Italian until she’s sure she’s got it, and then surprises her brother the next time they meet by greeting him in his mother tongue
  • Frank is so surprised the first time he freaks and starts going off in Mandarin and Nico is there quietly answering and reassuring him in Mandarin as well. He learns later that Nico has spent quite a bit of time in China.
  • Hazel tries to learn Mandarin from Nico and Frank but they end up verbally stumbling over each other at first - Nico has different words for some things and Frank’s pronunciation is distinctly from BC Canada which trips Nico up, especially because Frank grew up in a blended English and Mandarin environment while Nico learned it because no one around him at the time spoke English. Hazel does eventually get a decent grasp on the basics though
  • Reyna and Nico swap vocab and phrases in their respective languages, slowly getting a feel for the new languages together
  • one day Piper is over and Nico comes shadowtraveling in, Reyna isn’t quite sure what to do with the awkward atmosphere until she gets a genius idea, they spend the rest of their stays making a French-Italian-Spanish hybrid language that only they can understand. The icebreaker seems to work great as a few weeks later she hears of a prank they pulled off at camp half-blood. she can’t help being the tiniest bit proud.
  • Leo gets a kick out of Nico’s meager Spanish and takes delight in teaching him a bunch of curses that might send Reyna on a manhunt later
  • Nico and Reyna referring to each other as sorellona and hermanito. they know it sounds immature and childish to some, they couldn’t care less. 
  • Percy actually speaks moderately good Spanish, he picked it up during his childhood.
  • a greek demigod teaching Ancient Greek in new rome, a roman demigod teaching Latin at camp half-blood
  • children of Apollo being able to understand a song’s meaning despite what language it’s in and whether or not they can speak that language
  • Nico learning languages from ghosts while in the underworld
  • all of the multi lingual demigods having those disorienting days where they just say whatever word pops into their head first that fits the meaning they were looking for. it results in a lot of multilingual sentences and a lot of confusion and frustration for all parties involved.
Not Human

Characters: Sam x Reader

Words: 1017

Summary: Castiel arrives, and something special is revealed.

Part 4 in the Strange Series. Read Part 1 herePart 2 here, and Part 3 here.

I’m so sorry for this cliffhanger! But the next part will fully reveal it, I promise! Enjoy!

Keep reading


Firestone “Double Barrel Ale (DBA)”

90 A-

This English pale ale blends one batch that was brewed in traditional stainless steel, then adds 20% of a different batch that was aged in 60-gallon oak barrels (I would love to try this 100% oak brew).

Aromas are like toasted bread, caramel drizzled biscuits, with distinctly English herbal hop notes. On the palate, bubbly carbonation plays off the tongue while caramel washes over roasted, bready malts. Herbal hops quickly rise, transitioning into flavors of red apple, oranges, and other fine earthy notes added from the oak. Malts soon taste like whole grains with a raw, husky quality. The finish is somewhat dry, leaving with a light touch of bitterness. There’s a proportionate bitter-sweetness which I find very agreeable. Mouthfeel is crisp yet smooth, soft on the edges with a lighthearted body.

Double Barrel is an everyday ale that drinks great, and is perfectly suitable for any occasion. I say this is a malt-forward ale, because it’s not that bitter, but it’s not that sweet either. So it ends up being a little sweet up front, fruity in the middle, then leaves with earth tones toward the finish. English pale ales have greater malt complexity than Americans, and I personally find the English hops to be a welcome shift from the typical citrus-focused varieties we’ve all grown accustomed to in the states. When you consider this in the context of the pale ale, this is a solid brew. Although this is unlikely to turn heads, I recommend it.


30 IBU

Paso Robles, California

anonymous asked:

So my job is breakfagst servics in hotels in Berlin and something that bothers me about English people is that they bring their own tea bags of English Breakfast and are like "Don't order theirs I will give you some of mine. This my real English Breakfast tea from England". It's not from England, it's from India and Sri Lanka. The exceptionalism is astounding.

that is funny in a really pathetic way to me, as a chinese person. it’s like being in a fandom for decades and then watching somebody who’s been in that same fandom for one year getting all snobbish on an even newer fan.

((This is kind of like a dance school/foreign exchange student AU. there’s going to be a little bit of Italian in this because I need practice.))  

Nico liked ballet the best because it told a story without a language barrier. The music, the dancing, the costumes all told a story just fine without a single infinitive or preposition.

It didn’t matter what he was dancing, it just felt right to do it. His English was crap, and he still had trouble navigating the streets of New York – he had only just moved from Italy for dance school. Even though it was hard to leave, he was happy. 

Nico hated English, though, absolutely hated the non sense of it all. Italian was simple, formulaic. English was difficile e noioso. 

His English tutor was the only thing that made the language worth learning.

Keep reading

Library AU | drabble #4

Eren continues to bring tea for Levi. There is some kind of progress.

Eren has come to learn Levi’s tea preferences. It only cost him a couple weeks going through the entire menu at the Jasmine Dragon teashop and his spare change.

Keep reading

Tuesday’s With Sammy

Sammy loves Tuesdays and thus this day will forever be devoted to him! 

Sam Winchester x Reader


Warnings: None really, gets a little steamy but it’s all PG

Author: @i4z-0892-imagines​ #Hashtag Heather

Between The Lines

Your eyes seemed to blur the more your eyes stared at the pages in front of you; words were no longer making sense and your brain felt like a hurricane of chaos. Latin was blending with english and you could feel the migraine coming on; all this research was starting to wear on your sanity. You heard his footsteps before he entered the room, you knew him better than you knew yourself, the millions of hours researching together meant you even knew the way he breathed not that you’d ever tell him that. 

He placed a steaming cup of chai on the corner of the tome you were currently going through, only allowing your eyes to turn to him when you finished the page; his head already buried within the pages of another book. 

His perfectly thick hair hung over his eyes before his hand pushed it off his face, concentration forming lines on his brow, his moss coloured eyes scanning the pages with purpose. His shoulders tensed as his brain processed all his thoughts. “Thanks Sammy,” You murmured as his eyes finally found their way to yours. 

“Always welcome.” He responded, his beautiful smile shining through his face, the dimples on his cheeks deepening. “So how’s the research coming along?”

Keep reading


The rise of futsal: A miniature form of soccer

To be honest, we had no idea what futsal was when we saw that reporter Paresh Dave’s story was in the pipeline. But now we’re hooked and need to give it a shot.

Just peek at the intro of Dave’s story:

he amber lights flicker on above the tennis courts at DeForest Park in Long Beach. The nets have disappeared. Tennis balls are nowhere in sight. This evening, people are playing with a different kind of ball.

On the chain-link fence that surrounds the courts, spray paint marks the goals. Shots whiz by like cars on a freeway.

English and Spanish blend as players chant “Corre! Corre!” (“Run!”) and “Mira! Mira!” (“Look!”). The murmurs from onlookers — “nice” and “wow” — swell after each dazzling play.

The matches on this concrete court are quick. The first team to score wins. Losers retreat to wooden benches, ceding to the next challenger.

Read more on the numerous demographic, financial and athletic reasons for futsal’s increasing popularity right here.

Photos: Liz O. Baylen / Los Angeles Times