english muffins

101 mission briefings for Conspiracist:

  • A German-style garden gnome with the left eye removed
  • A USB thumb drive containing a single photo of an orange kitten with an American $100 bill in its mouth
  • A black fedora with a plastic fork in the hatband in place of a feather
  • A High Priestess tarot card (from the Marseilles deck, if the players think to ask) with a moustache and goatee scribbled on in black felt pen
  • A box of Boston cream donuts, one short of the full dozen
  • A pair of pre-1983 Barbie dolls, bound together at the wrist with a pair of tiny plastic handcuffs
  • A self-sealing freezer bag filled with mouse bones
  • A V2-brand vape pen and a half-litre bottle of vanilla rootbeer float flavoured vape fluid
  • A pair of casino dice with faces numbered 0-5 rather than 1-6
  • 144 cases of frozen English muffins (72 muffins per case), delivered by express courier

(Clearly we’re well short of 101 - feel free to add your own!)

Sheriff Knows Best

Stiles/Derek, G, 2K words, Sheriff POV, Coffeeshop AU, matchmaker!Sheriff

(Credit for the title to @cobrilee!)

This is an expansion of the following idea, written by the lovely @artemis69:

the coffee!AU, where John goes to the same coffee shop every day, and there is this very grumpy, quiet barista that always makes him amazing coffee and keep the best pastries for him. And one day the Sheriff learns that Derek is the one to bake them all, so he decides: this will be my son in law, I need a reason to have this man in my family for at least forty to fifty years. Then he matchmakes with no subtility whatsoever, basically offering his only son on a silver plate, Stiles spluttering all the way (but he takes Derek’s number anyway because the guy is just amazingly cute)

John’s on his regular morning stroll when he stops in his tracks and takes in the brand-new coffee shop, complete with a banner advertising their opening day. The little corner space has been boarded up for over a year, and John had no idea it was opening today.

Any new businesses are a boon for Beacon Hills, especially family-run ones like this one is rumored to be, so John ducks inside. It’s warm and homey, and there’s a pair of young dark-haired people behind the counter, close enough in features that they’re probably siblings. The quiet bickering points that direction, too.

They stop, though, when they see the Sheriff—the uniform tends to have that effect—and he pastes on his public servant smile. “Hi there. I saw this place was open and wanted to come on in and introduce myself. Sheriff John Stilinski.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” the woman says, holding out her hand for a shake. A nice strong grip—John likes this girl already. “I’m Laura Hale, and I own this place with my brother Derek, our resident grumpy barista-slash-baker.”

Derek rolls his eyes at Laura, but his smile to John is genuine, if small. “Hi, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, son,” he says, perusing the case full of tempting sugary treats. “You made these?”

He nods. “Can I get you anything?”

John hums. “A medium coffee, and…any one of these delicious-looking goodies. You pick. Just don’t tell my son,” he adds, and Derek looks up at him.

“Your son?”

“I have slightly elevated cholesterol,” he says, stressing the word. “Nothing to worry about, honestly. But he polices my diet. I don’t think he knows about this place yet, though, so this is great.”

Derek hums. His tongs hover over a muffin—lemon poppyseed, it looks like—before moving to another one. Raspberry-almond, according to the sign, and well, John isn’t picky. Derek drops it into a little bag and hands it over.

“Happy to help,” he says.

John thanks him and opens the bag. Laura’s still pouring his coffee, but it smells so damn good that he can’t resist.

“Wow,” he says, his mouth full. “This is delicious.”

Derek looks quietly proud, and Laura claps him on the shoulder as she reaches over to hand John his coffee. “On the house, today, Sheriff,” she says. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he promises.


“Thanks, Nina,” John says dryly, leaning back so she can put his plate in front of him.

“You’re welcome, Sheriff,” she says with a friendly smile, ignoring his stink eye.

Stiles just grins at both of them and digs into his French toast. He insists on having their weekly father-son breakfast at Paulie’s Diner because no matter what John orders, Nina will only bring him an egg-white omelet with a dry English muffin. Stiles must have some serious blackmail or be paying her off somehow, and John is, he has to admit, grudgingly impressed.

“Don’t look so bummed out, Pops,” Stiles says, around a mouthful of what’s surely syrup-drenched deliciousness. “At least I let you have turkey bacon.”

“It’s not the same,” he says grumpily, poking at it. “But at least I’m getting a steady stream of baked goods now.”

Stiles glares at him. “Are you serious? From where? I thought I had paid everyone off.”

He knew it. “I’m not telling you,” he says, a little displeased with how childish he sounds.

“Fine,” Stiles says, sniffing. “I’ll figure it out, you know I will.”

He will, John knows. Goddamn, he loves his kid, even if his life goal seems to be depriving John from any and all delicious food. “And speaking of, I met someone the other day,” he starts, and Stiles gasps theatrically, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“Is this you crapping all over my dream of having Melissa as my stepmom?”

John sighs at the reminder. Melissa is…well, she seems happy with that Argent guy. Whatever. He’s not bitter.

“Not for me, Jesus,” he says, shaking his head. “For you.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles says, slumping back in the booth. “Eye roll” is too mild, John thinks. It’s more of a whole head roll. “Seriously, Dad, I’m only 25. You don’t have to marry me off quite yet. You’ll get your grandchildren someday, I promise. Stop trying to set me up with people.”

“I’m just trying to be helpful!” John protests. “He seems nice.”

And makes really good treats, he adds in his head. That’ll be a good trait for a son-in-law.

“And who exactly is he?”

John pauses. “I met him at the aforementioned undisclosed location.” 

Stiles snorts. “Find out if he actually likes dudes, then get back to me.”

“Okay,” he says seriously, and Stiles grimaces.

“No, Dad, don’t actually—”

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art trade with @burstmuffin I drew their red riding hood dirkjake au!!

dumb process gif under the cut so you can see how I just filter the shit out of everything pffshs

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Part of Harry's Interview with EinsLive

Harry: […] When you say it like that it sounds.. scary? I’m joking, I’m joking. I love touring and I’m incredibly excited to see some fans who’ve got tickets to the show

Interviewer [in German]: In order for your band mates not to forget you, you did something like.. a lot of celebs don’t send video messages or facetime.. but you did a movie. We’re gonna see you as an actor in the summer and Hollywood’s got its eyes on you: Channing Tatum gave you a stripper name, in case you’re gonna star in Magic Mike at one point.. Did you know about that?

Harry: I did not know that. Tell me what the name is!

Interviewer: The English Muffin

Harry: I think we all know what he was intending with that.. Thank you, Channing Tatum

Interviewer [in German]: We’ll forward the message later when we’re in the club with Channing [laughs]. Okay, Harry Styles, thank you so far! See you on October 27th, when you’re performing on stage in Cologne, right?

Harry: Wonderful interview, thank you so much. You should come to the show!

Interviewer [in German]: We will, bye!

2

I flew back to the States on a business trip yesterday and am spending Easter weekend with my parents out in the country. Jetlag woke me up around 5am this morning and I was starving, but didn’t want to wake the rest of the house by going down to the kitchen. So I decided to unpack the snacks I brought back from Japan, which included this bag that was perfect for breakfast… Eggs Benedict Tortilla Chips! Not sure why they’re not labeled as Doritos, but I have to say, these were definitely some of the best tasting chips I’ve ever eaten out of Japan!! The egg, cheese and ham flavors are all quite prominent, and there’s even a hint of lettuce to them, which they even call out on the packaging! I’m truly amazed at how they so perfectly captured the complexity of a dish like eggs benedict in the form of a corn chip!

I used to work in a theme park in a line-order restaurant (serving guests and serving employees) some of my stories.

>An elderly British couple came in, the woman asked for tea. I inserted the tea bag, filled the cup with hot water over the bag, capped it, sleeved it, and handed it to her. She looked at me in abject fear and confusion before turning to her husband and asked “An American who knows how to make tea, WHAT IS THIS?”

>A different elderly British couple asked if the Fish and Chips we served was real fish and chips, I told them it was until the health department said we had to stop serving it in news paper. The wife thought this was hilarious.

>A man came through, looked at our menu and said that our food looked good but was way too fatty, I agreed and jokingly said that “you know what they say, a heart attack is just your body’s way of saying ‘I have eaten all the delicious food the world has to offer and now I am ready to die.’” The man thought I had a valid point and ordered a double cheeseburger, his wife was significantly less amused.

>A couple with a young child approached with the distinct repeated sound of air being blown through the souvenir cup straw. The father asks for a refil, after I fill the cup he sighs and with a deflated tone says that he regrets teaching his son how to make noise with the straw. The mother slowly nods her head with pursed lips and a look of “I told you so.”

>A kid asks how much longer the restaurant is open. I tell him that we close when the park does in 360 minutes. Kid freaks thinking everything is about to shut down, so does his dad until he does the math and realizes that that was six hours.

>A platoon of soldiers comes in during our breakfast hours, having a week’s leave after basic before getting sent to their assignment. The each order an English Breakfast (eggs, sausage, country potatoes, fired english muffin) with a Belgian waffle (we only have two waffle makers because we don’t normally get that kind of traffic in the morning) we stop taking breakfast orders at 11. We give the last soldier their breakfast at 1. We have to tell lunch customers we are no longer serving breakfast as we give breakfast to these people idling about.

>Guy from Philadelphia asks if our Philly Cheese Steaks are “real.” I tell him no, describe why. My coworkers are pissed, he thanks me for actually knowing what he asked and orders one. Tells me he can’t tell the difference. I use that in my response from then on.

>Guy from Delaware asks if our Philly CheeseSteaks are “real.” I say no, but people from Philly have said they can’t tell the difference. He orders one, stops me while I’m making it and asks where the Cheese-wiz is. The guy in front of him from Philly angrily asks if he’s from Delaware. The guest angrily replies that he is. A fight almost breaks out. My coworkers learn that I was not joking when I said people from Philly take their Cheese Steaks seriously.

>Man comes in asking for beer, tries to prove his age with an ID held together with scotch tape. Gets pissed when I deny him service and ask for alternate proof of identity.

>Woman tried to use void ID to purchase alcohol. Produces valid ID when asked for alternate ID (she had moved so she had to have her drivers license changed). Insisted that the ID with the word VOID punched into it was still good because it had not yet expired.

>Old woman angrily demanded to know where I was after my day off. Claimed I was the only person in the park who knew how to make fish right, and demanded that I tell my manager that they were no longer allowed to serve fish on days when I was not working.

>Guy in charge of all the restaurants in my area of the park is performing an inspection during set up and decides to QC the aforementioned fish. Declares it to be “nice and flaky, like a lot of the people who work here.”

>Tram driver angrily yells at me for serving hot food that will make him sleepy and crash a tram full of guests. I tell him that I don’t control the menu or food policies and that his meal voucher doesn’t cover the salad bar, which is written on the voucher. He asks how he could be expected to read that when he doesn’t have his glasses?


>See a coworker doing a half-assed job closing as I’m getting ready to clock out at doors. I tell him if he half-asses it he won’t have to answer to one of our supervisors, he’d have to answer to the coworker who has been at the park longer than many of the workers have been alive. He laughs. The next day the elderly coworker demands to know who closed last night, I tell her about my conversation with the closer. She takes closing shift from me so she can “teach” him how to close. He never doubted my cleaning advice again.

Daily Notes

Summary: The one time Bucky decides to go get coffee, he finds you, a feisty barista, along the way. Strangely enough, you’re the exact reason he continues to keep coming back.

Word Count: 1,324.

A/N: After many visits to my local Starbucks, I’ve gathered up some inspiration for this fic and I really loved how it came out! Big thanks to my friends @heaventide & @galaxayy for helping me come up with these sweet notes included. Hope you guys enjoy, and as always feedback would be greatly appreciated. 

Originally posted by talkinboutmyimagination

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{ red velvet }

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

t/w: none!

tags:  @toonerzchatz @promisesandmore @itsallexmallory @impala-moose @jaydiggs1218 @fierydaemon @slightlysouless @jzzyjones @wiindmill @whitestorm547 @hamilturnt @fearless-butter @littleblue5mcdork @arostrolgy @mcgrammer15 @fanagelbagel @mehrmonga @luna-lightwood-potter @strawbirby @21donutlover @alienboymax @hamilbroke @tailored-shirt-tails @wolfphantom-m @moonchildcharm @shadowthepiratecat @english-muffin-top @iamivyfeather @louisianaspell @lastfallenstar @thataudreydork @moonqueerr @niixxo @sarmar29 @a-mistake-tbh @notquiteanobsession @me-idiedforhim @ghostieatemymoxie @arostrolgy @martapetrovic @thomas-jefferdad @justwannaseesomegoddamnlolfanart @that-gay-fangirl

inbox || masterlist

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five


four. 

To Thomas, the days without you seemed to stretch on forever. Thomas woke up with the initial thought to text you, call you and ask about how your day was, try to convince you to quit your job at the cafe you worked at, but he couldn’t. You two were on a break. Now was your time to think.

Think.

It felt pointless. He knew what he wanted, but he wanted to make sure you knew what you wanted.

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