salt shakers

The Denny’s rule book: A simple guide

Denny’s is your local, friendly diner open 24 hours a day every day of the year. A place to relax and enjoy a breakfast at any hour, a fulfilling lunch or delicious dinner. All are welcome at Denny’s, and it’s your safest location, provided you follow this very simple guide for the nightly hours.

  1. Never close your eyes in a Denny’s parking lot. 
  2. Walk calmly to the door; you will hear sounds. Do not look behind you.
  3. Always make sure the door closes behind you, unless it was already open when you arrived, in which case do not touch the door.
  4. Never sit at the table farthest from the front door. Your server will sometimes try to seat you there. Politely refuse and ask for another table.
  5. If you see a table with two salt-shakers, walk past it; that table is taken. Sit at the table directly across from it instead. 
  6. Eat your pancakes. Box any leftovers; it would be a shame to waste food. It might attract something.
  7. Do not, under any circumstance, look into the eyes of your own reflection in the bathroom.
  8. If your server’s eyes turn black, do not panic; order a coffee with extra cream. Do not ask for a refill. Do not stare.
  9. Think you recognize someone who just walked in? Best to ignore it. It’s probably not what it seems. They will proceed to sit at the table farthest from the door.
  10. If you are walking past a Denny’s and you see yourself sitting in the corner booth through the window, keep walking. Do not eat at Denny’s that night.
  11. Did you tip? You better double check. It’s only polite to leave a tip.
  12. Do not ask questions. They will Notice.

Your local Denny’s is the perfect place for a delicious meal at all hours of the day. Hope you enjoy your next visit to any Denny’s Diner!

SS as things as family stories
  • Logan: Apparently I took my dads keys and tried to drive the car when I was 3 for "science"
  • Patton: One time my sister declared herself the new dad and grounded my dad
  • Roman: My 2nd brother bought a real sword online and then walked around challenge people to duels.
  • Virgil: My 1st brother walked out of his room one morning declared he was going back to bed and flopped onto the floor

“WASTED AWAY AGAIN IN MARGARITAVILLE, SEARCHIN FOR MY LOST SHAKER OF SALT”

The Brown Bottle

Pairings: Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Omega!Werewolf!Reader - A/B/O

Word Count: 3400+

Summary: Sam is rough around the edges, you do your best to avoid him until one night you discover he’s your true mate and instincts take over. This is really just a lot of smut and a little plot to ease things along. 

My twist on a/b/o dynamics.

Beta:  @just-another-busy-fangirl

Warnings: NSFW gif, knotting, mating, breeding, dominance, claiming, fingering, unprotected sex, biting, dirty talk, rough sex, some dom/sub overtones.

Your name: submit What is this?





You stop in your tracks, clutching an open hand over your abdomen.

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath as an afterthought. Shit doesn’t quite do this kind of pain justice. This cycle’s heat has brought what your mother, Millie (owner and proprietor of The Brown Bottle), refers to as The Real Motherfuckers. The kind of cramps that stop a woman unexpectedly while on her way to work well after sundown. The two generic suppressants you popped an hour earlier aren’t working as well as you hoped and you find yourself wishing you’d taken a third.

These are indeed The Real Motherfuckers.

Keep reading

what if...

the winter soldier gets triggered but instead of hurting or killing people, he just becomes really passive aggressive and generally dickish to everyone.

  • he refills the salt shaker with sugar
  • “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to spill my drink all over your lap”
  • stealths through the living room and unplugs the tv 5 minutes before your favorite show is about to start
  • you think it’s just the tv remote and go to get new batteries only to find bucky’s replaced all the new batteries with dead ones
  • he deletes all your shows and timers on the dvr
  • but does it slowly, 1 or 2 at a time, so you just think something’s wrong with the dvr
  • can’t find your toothbrush. bucky took it to clean his guns
  • waits until you get in the shower to start the dishwasher
  • double dips in the fondue
  • writes his name on every food item in the house, even the stuff he didn’t buy
  • “this is my fruit bowl. no one is allowed to eat from it but me”
  • sees you washing a load of white clothes. throws his red shirt in
  • takes up playing the kazoo
  • best time to practice it is at 3 am. says it helps with his insomnia
  • all toilet paper in the house has disappeared
  • fills the candy dish in the kitchen with sugar free gummy bears
  • “i don’t :) know why :) you’re so :) upset :)”

Wait

Why is Yuuri

Doing the Tsukishima thing?

“We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers… and also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether and two dozen amyls.
Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can.”

poems i would write you | shawn mendes

MY MASTERLIST

word count: 9,018 (i was gonna split this up, but decided to just keep it together. it’s long. put on your favorite sweatpants and grab that bag of hot cheetos you’ve been saving before you dig into this thing.)

author’s note: GUESS WHO’S BACK, BACK AGAIN? BERRY’S BACK, TELL A FRIEND. welcome to the first installment of my college!shawn series, which takes place during Y/N’s (that’s you) freshman year. it’s got fluff, angst, and some pretty stupid decisions on everyone’s part. title from “shot down” by khalid, as per a recommendation from @light-up-shawn. enjoy.


Your name: submit What is this?

i.

Upon your arrival to college, you had been on the receiving end of entirely too much advice from various relatives, older friends, and even strangers. Don’t walk alone at night, don’t sign up for eight AM classes, don’t drink the “jungle juice” at any frat parties.

Your parents had told you to focus on your studies and seek tutoring help if you needed it. Your sister had encouraged you to join a sorority to really be at “the heart” of university life, as if you knew what that meant. The only advice your cousin gave you was to always remember your room key and to pack a pair of shower shoes, the latter of which she accompanied with a shudder - you could piece together that anecdote on your own.

But nobody had prepared you for this particular problem.

Keep reading

we may be hollow, but we’re brave

Summary: Even had insisted they spend the night before their wedding apart, because he’s dramatic as fuck, but he ends up calling Isak anyway. Isak doesn’t even try to hide how endeared he is.

Words: 1,248

Isak groans as he adjusts the pillow under his head for the thirtieth time that night. It’s the first time in weeks he’s had to fall asleep without Even, and it’s fucking with him bad. Once upon a time, he thought he’d outgrow this urgent need to have Even next to him, touching him, just being with him always. But after a year together, he feels the exact same desperate ache for Even as he had when they first met—when real love, the kind that comes naturally with Even, still felt like a fleeting fantasy. He’s more or less accepted that forever is in his grasp now, but being without him when Isak could so easily drive over to Even’s parents’ place and crawl into his bed, still feels like the worst kind of self-inflicted torture.

He’d whined to Jonas about it for a good two hours earlier, until Jonas had threatened to hand over best man duties to Magnus instead. Isak had been scared enough to shut the fuck up, but not he’d just pouted silently instead. “I can’t wait until Even marries you, this whole engagement has brought out the clingiest, sappiest parts of both of you,” Jonas had complained.

“Do you really think that it’ll get better after we get married?”

Jonas considered this for a moment, before burying his head in his hands. “Fuck, it’ll be even worse.”

Keep reading

for @fauvistfly, who wanted something with pining and stiles being a singer

rated T, 2.3k also on AO3 here 

It’s four am and the diner is quiet. Derek finishes wiping down a table; life as usual, he’s alone, he’s at work, everything goes on as it does. He refills coffee for the two tired-looking truckers sitting at the counter and goes back to refilling the salt shakers.

The last time Cora was home, she’d asked if he and Laura ever considered selling the place. “Doesn’t do much business,” she said, trying to be gentle. Say it was okay to let go. But she’d only been a baby when the accident happened that took their parents; she didn’t have memories growing up here the way Derek and Laura did, playing hide-and-seek under the counters, watching their dad bake pies and their mom fill coffee, listening to travelers talk about their lives on the road.

Hale’s is fifty miles from the nearest town in either direction, a blink-and-miss-it diner still stuck in the ‘50s, right off the Pacific Coast Highway. The little town of Beacon Hills is an hour away, so almost all the patrons are travellers, people looking for respite from the road, on their way up to the redwoods or heading down to San Francisco and Los Angeles. There’s a little wall of autographs from famous people who’ve dined here; cowboys and starlets and authors and people Derek’s parents took a shine to. The diner is a historic landmark, not to mention it’s always been home to Derek.

So Laura manages the day shift and Derek does the night. It works out well; he doesn’t have to interact with people much. He and Laura were homeschooled until high school, and Derek had found Beacon Hills High School overwhelming with its crowds.

The radio starts a new song; it’s one of Derek’s favorites. He doesn’t remember the name of the artist, but it makes Derek feel alive. The song lyrics aren’t particularly sensual, but the man’s voice is— Derek shudders, feeling his blood run hot under his skin, and he imagines the warm touch of someone pulling him close, embracing him, kissing him—

“Can I take this coffee to go?”

“Oh. Sure,” Derek says, pouring the trucker’s coffee into a plastic cup.

They leave him a decent tip and are off, the bell jingling as they go.

Derek sighs, watching the moonlight dance across the ocean in the distance. He listens to the rustling of the trees, and occasionally a car will drive past the diner, lights blaring.

He turns off the radio and hums the song to himself as he sweeps up.

There’s longing here, of a love long lost, and Derek is lost to the song, to the memories it drags up.

Nothing but the sound of waves crashing on the shore, the white hot sun burning just beyond Derek’s closed eyes. He can feel the warm body next to him stir awake, and then fingers carding through his hair.

“Derek… hey. You awake?”

“Nope,” Derek says, and he can already picture it: Stiles leaning over him, his hair still wet, eyes bright with laughter.

Keep reading

Paperhat Dinner Date Headcanons

-BH picks some super sketchy garage restaurant. Flug picks local pizza places.

-If there are booths, the are gETTING ONE

-BH eats the salt shaker, glass and all. Maybe burp up the metal top. “It doesn’t digest well, Flug. Don’t look at me like that.”

-BH looks Flug dead in the eyes as he eats/drinks. It’s honestly unnerving.

-Flug brings like fourty straws for his drinks. When he eats, he hides behind a menu or something.

-“Do you guys want dessert?”
“No tha-”
“YES FLUG WE WOULD LIKE DESSERT. GIVE US ALL THE DESSERT.”

-Black Hat eats the bill. “Hey, they brought it out, therefore it’s part of dinner! God Flug, and YOU’RE the scientist!”

-who am i kidding they just make out the whole time