not to yield

Pirates of the Caribbean Chicken Pot Pie

Yields one 10 inch pot pie

The things you’ll need

  • 2 ½ cups all purpose flour
  • 2 teaspoons sugar
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • ½ cups salted butter, ice cold
  • ½ cup butter flavor shortening, cubed & ice cold
  • 6 tablespoons buttermilk, ice cold
  • 2 to 3 chicken breats, boneless & skinless
  • 4 ounces butter
  • 4 ounces all purpose flour
  • 1 cup chicken stock
  • 1 cup milk
  • 1 cup chopped carrots
  • 1 cup chopped onions
  • 1 cup chopped celery
  • ½ cup frozen peas
  • 1 cup corn
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • Large pot
  • Food processor with blade attachment
  • Medium bowl
  • Whisk
  • Measuring cup
  • Wooden spoon
  • Plastic wrap
  • Rolling pin
  • Cookie cutters
  • Cutting board and knife
  • 10 inch ceramic pie dish

Let’s get started!

  1. Combine flour, sugar and salt in a food processor
  2. Add cubed butter and shortening and pulse until well combined. Drizzle in ice-cold buttermilk while pulsing.
  3. Form the dough into a disc and wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for 2 to 24 hours.
  1. Preheat oven to 375°F.
  2. Chop carrots, onions and celery and set aside.
  3. Cut chicken breasts into cubes.
  4. Heat oil in a large pot on medium heat. Cook the chicken for 3 to 4 minutes, until it is white all over.
  5. Add carrots, onions and celery and cook another 3 to 5 minutes. Fold in the corn and peas and then remove the mixture from heat.
  6. In a small saucepot, melt butter over medium heat. Pour in flour and stir until a thick sauce forms.
  7. Whisk in chicken stock and milk and cook until boiling.
  8. Pour the sauce over the cooked chicken and veggies and then scoop the filling into a pie dish.
  9. Roll out the dough to be a couple inches larger than the pie dish and then place on top of the pie. Press around the edges to remove excess dough.

Time to decorate!

  1. Roll out the excess dough and use cookie cutters to cut out the shapes of a skull.
  2. Use a bone cookie cutter to cut out bone shapes and then cut one end off of each bone. Use the longer bone to make crossbones around the skull.
  3. Brush egg wash roughly in the shape of the skull and crossbones on top of the pie.
  4. Bake for 35 to 45 minutes or until the crust is golden brown.
  5. TaDa! You’ll strike gold with this Pirate Pot Pie when it feeds all your hungry maties!

     “What the hell were you thinking, Y/N?!”

     “The werewolf was getting away.”

     “I don’t care if he was getting away, don’t run out onto unstable ice in any circumstances!”

     You fought to keep your teeth from chattering as Dean lead you into your motel room, angrily shutting the door behind him and ripping a blanket off the bed. Your soaking wet jacket and shirt were soon to follow that quick removal, hitting the stained carpet with a light thud before Dean wrapped the heavy comforter around your shaking form.

     “He was gonna kill someone,” you said, voice quiet but not timid.

     “He almost killed you!” Dean shot back.

     “No he didn’t, the ice did that.”

     You held your ground and locked eyes with Dean, willing your shuttering breaths to calm as waves of icy cold wracked your body. You wouldn’t yield, not about this. You did it to saves innocents and you’d do it again.

     Dean seemed to read the conviction in your eyes and sighed, running his fingers through snow-dampened hair. “Just … just promise me you won’t do anything like that again, okay?”

     “Sure. In the incredibly unlikely event that I once again find myself needing to run out onto half-melted ice, I promise I’ll let the werewolf mangle people instead.”

     “Y/N/.” Dean closed his eyes and stilled, his whole demeanor shifting from rage to fear as he knelt down on the floor in front of your chair. “Please.”

     You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond. Dean never acted this way. The anger, sure, Dean wasn’t exactly known for being level headed. But this … vulnerability?

     You reached for his hand and gave him a shaky smile.

     “I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

     It took him a moment to respond, to show any sign he even heard you. But eventually he looked up, those green eyes shining with relief and fear – fear for your life, you realized. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Just comere.”

     You leaned over and let Dean pull you against his chest, his hand running up and down your arm and chin resting on top of your head. You savored his warmth, let it seep into your chilled skin and surround you. A shiver ran down your spine despite the heavy blanket. Dean simply pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head.

     “I promise,” you whispered.

*These gifs are not mine, both the gifs are from Google Images*

If you would like to read any of my other fics please check out my Masterlist!

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anonymous asked:

Can you tell us more about your biotech company?

I wish I could explain the entire system, but we are currently keeping that internal until we release it publicly with the release of the product.

tl;dr: I invented a new way to grow food that grows nearly any crop 300% faster with about three times as many yields per plant.

We will be releasing products within the year that may not make sense in preparation for the release of the brand new system because we are aiming for 500% efficiency before release of our fully autonomous AI driven system (we need more data! and more manufacturers!)

We are targeting the cannabis industry initially, and then we will move onto the rest of the agriculture industry.

humanities-angstiest  asked:

Hi! I love your post of Keith things soo much. I was just wondering if you can expand on him being self-conscious about his temper and which episodes he shows this?

Hey there :D Thanks!! And sure thing, he doesn’t really show it often, but I really believe he does feel this way. 

Okay, before I start with the 2 scenes I want to talk about, let’s establish something first - that he knows he has a temper and knows that he needs to work on it. He shows awareness of that quite often, so I’ll just mention s1e1, the first time it becomes apparent. It’s on his mission to find Red. “Patience yields focus” makes an appearance, something that he carries with himself all the way to season 2. He definitely knows that it is something he has to work on.

Next - the self-conscious part. Surprisingly, the moments where Keith seems to feel guilty and/or self-conscious about his temper usually aren’t around Shiro. Maybe that’s because they already know each other so well that they don’t have to feel bad for being who they are. Shiro openly tells him in s2e8 that he has to work on controlling his emotions if he wants to become the leader someday… the scene ended with Keith apologizing and saying that he just had a lot on his mind. He seemed a little upset, but you read the meta on the Keith post, so you know that it wasn’t about his temper.

No, the moments where he shows being self-conscious the most are around Lance. There is that scene in the Balmera in s1e7 (I zoomed in on his expressions here):

“We can’t just go in and blow things up like a psycho!”

Oops. That’s what his face is saying after being presented with a simple and better plan. Keith definitely feels guilty and kind of self-conscious here for not thinking things through. There is not much explanation needed, it’s all in the facial expressions. 

Something like that happens again in season 2. The scene I want to talk about is in s2e8, the Blade of Marmora episode. Shiro picks Keith to accompany him into the base and Lance does not agree with this decision: “But Keith’s a hothead! He’s probably gonna shoot first and ask questions later and they’re not gonna be able to answer his questions because they’re gonna be dead!”

Keith’s reaction to that statement is what convinced me of him being self-conscious about his temper:

He looks away. His eyebrows raise. He feels like Lance is right about what he is saying and he definitely feels bad about it. It’s the definition of a “guilty as charged” face. And since we know that Keith shows pretty much every emotion he feels on his face, I think it’s safe to say that he feels at least a little self-conscious about the way he usually acts.

Unfortunately, there is not much material to go of. Shiro is Keith’s safe spot and none of the other paladins have ever confronted Keith about his temper. He might only feel this way because it’s Lance - it’s Lance reminding him of the one thing he constantly needs to work on. Shiro tells him that. Keith tells himself that. He has enough self-confidence that he can usually say “yes, I am by no means perfect, I need to get better at controlling myself”. But when it’s Lance confronting him, the guy he constantly competes against, he suddenly becomes a lot more aware of his mistakes. 

(Keep in mind though that even if Lance being Lance might be part of why Keith reacted the way he did, these feelings wouldn’t just come out of nowhere. If you get suddenly self-conscious about something, you must have at least had doubts about it before. He wouldn’t have made that expression if there wasn’t at least a tiiiiiiny part of him that felt uncomfortably aware of his temper before.)

So, to summarize - Keith isn’t super self-conscious about his temper, it’s mostly just a part of himself that he isn’t proud of. He can usually ignore it, but when a situation puts it in the spotlight his negative feelings get amplified and his self-consciousness shines through. Not that that dampens his self-confidence in any way, it’s just something that shows that he, at the end of it all, is still just a teenager. 

Also, this just in, being self-conscious about something does not mean being insecure about it. Here, I googled it:

And I think it’s safe to say that the “feeling undue awareness of oneself” is very apparent in the second scene.

In order to be perfectly pleasing to God, we must also for His sake be perfectly indifferent to our flesh; for instance, when, during prayer, notwithstanding our slothfulness and strong inclination to sleep, we force ourselves not to yield to it, then we are indifferent to our flesh. The martyrs and ascetics had this perfect indifference for their flesh.

St John of Kronstadt

anonymous asked:

Oh fucking shut up you crack idiot. you were posting natsu x lisanna garbage before. nalu is canon. don't make natsu look bad like this. you fucking moron!

Hi, again, I think you’re confused. See, I tag ships on my blog partly because I am a kind, considerate person who realized smart people use blockers for their notps but also because I’m a neatnick who enjoys organization.

Searching my blog for nali yielded precisely one post, which does not belong to me, as it was a reblog from a friend. I’m sure when you figure out how to use the search function, it’ll be helpful in your quest. Perhaps you saw a nali request from my old blog? In which case, it was a request, just like the nalu ones I wrote. I know this is an incredibly advanced, adult concept to grasp but writing a request or doing a commission does not mean the creator ships something. Or maybe they do. Maybe it’s their OTP. Either way, it’s not your business to tell them what to ship, and I have no shits to give about nalu being canon. None.

Also, a fictional character written by a manga-ka doesn’t need me to make him look bad; that’s not my job it’s Mashima’s. How he portrays Natsu in canon is none of my business nor is it under my control.

And finally, this is my blog and askbox not yours. Telling someone to shut up in their own space is rather rude and super immature. I truly hope you don’t speak to the people in your life this way, especially not your parents or teachers. Please, if you have trouble with your temper, I’m sure you can get some help in learning to control it and you’ll be better for it, I promise.

Here’s the thing for me. About those scenes with Merle and “John.”

At the start, I couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed that Clint wasn’t asking different questions. Travis clearly had the same thoughts I did–tactically, Merle was playing it poorly. He gave more information than he needed and asked vague questions that didn’t yield practical intel on how to fight the Hunger. 

If it had been Taako, he’d have asked clever questions and been focused on getting info out of the Hunger, on besting it. If it had been Magnus, he would have straight up asked, “how do we kill you” and likely learned at least something from that. But this wasn’t Taako’s or Magnus’s role to play. 

Merle was approaching parley the way it was meant to be approached. Not as a warrior looking for a way to kill the Hunger, but as a diplomat trying to understand it. He approached it with an open mind. To the point where he was eventually able to ask “are you my friend?” 

He asked that of this nightmare entity, this thing that’s caused so much death and suffering–that’s killed him dozens of times. Maybe he’s just that able to open his heart. Or maybe despite the religious ideals he tries to project as a cleric, he’s someone who–whether the person in question is a human, or a god, or a sinister consuming force—just wants people to like him. 

Whatever the reason, he was able to look at the Hunger and try to reason with it. To talk to it earnestly about the value of life, and hope.

It didn’t listen. And when it didn’t listen, I actually believe Merle was disappointed. That for a moment he had hoped the Hunger could be better. Instead, he told the Hunger off, and said he didn’t want to see him anymore. 

And the Hunger is sad. For the first time in who even can guess how long, the Hunger feels sorrow, and regret. Because for a moment he had a friend, and then he lost that friend. Because of his own actions.

Merle didn’t learn how to kill the Hunger, he didn’t learn any information that could help them slow it down or get to the Light of Creation faster. But what he did hurt it more than any weapon ever could. 


The night starts with a big, spicy Philly cheese steak. It’s about 6pm. I’ve been wanting to try the cheese steak from this corny, 50’s retro place for a long time. I gobble down the big greasy bowl of meat, hot sauce, and cheese, then head to the coffee shop for my weekly draw group. A little after I get home, about 10pm, a stomach ache comes on. “Damn, guess spicy foods are out.” I’ve been getting stomach aches every time I have spicy Thai or hot wings. I google search about spice pain- possible stomach ulcer? “I guess I have been stressed lately, but no more than usual I don’t think…” File under “Will investigate further later.“ According to the comments on this health website, a glass of milk will help. Gulp one down, go to bed.

Wrestle to sleep for about an hour. Realize the ache is just over the required pain threshold to keep you from sleeping. Do some work on my comic, more tired, but stomach worse. Will play batman until I fall asleep. I feel like I’m just running in circles… How many times have I failed this mission? Batman, batman, stomach now hurts too bad to enjoy an active task like video games. Deliriously tired. Would be great to sleep through the rest of this abdominal temper tantrum. Try the old “hot shower will make you sleep” trick. Take some Pepto-Bismol, and some generic acetaminophen. Out of the shower, hurts to walk around now, and to lie down. Guess I’ll have to wait it out with my eyes open. Call and leave my Doc a message, maybe will get a spot in there tomorrow. Need to get that ulcer discovered… Time to enjoy a passive task like watching TV. Breaking Bad feels like the right mixture of funny and painful, just like me and my burning spice belly. Damn, I can’t even enjoy that part where during Hank’s interrogation of that meth head, Wendy, she accuses Hank of trying to buy sexual services from her on behalf of an underage “football player” (a misunderstanding involving Walter Jr. from a few episodes before). Oh hell. Time to look up what time emergency medical clinics open. Guess I’ll have to pay out of pocket since I can’t wait for my Doc tomorrow.  It’s about 4am now. Earliest clinic opens at 8. Now hungry again, but can’t eat what with all the pain. One hour down. Man, this is really starting to hurt. Can I really wait 3 more hours? Sitting is starting to hurt as much as lying and standing. And I’m still not enjoying TV. Okay, I’ve come to a decision…. 

“Hey, Kayla, my stomach still hurts, I’m thinking about driving to the ER, do you wanna come?” “Oh! Ya, sure. What time is it?” “It’s 5:30”. I  call the hospital “Hey, I’ve had a pretty bad stomach ache all night, I’m thinking of coming by.” Operator: *long pause* “Haha, well, okay! We’re open all night, so just come on in.” 

Driving with a stomach ache is not so bad, because you’re already hunched over. Wish Kayla could drive, but she doesn’t really know how, probably would have a panic attack and would definitely crash. Interesting that they have ER parking, I wonder how many ER patients drive themselves here… All bodily positions hurt my insides now, signing in to this place sucks. Give Kayla half the paperwork to fill out, glad she’s here, or this would be really boring. Man, they sure take a long time for someone trying to get into an empty emergency room… Signing in with a nurse, she ask me my height and I say “ ‘5’’8”, but I notice she puts down “ ‘5’’7”… They want to look at my pee, they always want to see my pee. I pee, no blood, so whatever that tells them means I’m getting an ultrasound first. Then a young nurse named Ken, a cool Asian dude with screws through both ears, squirts so much morphine into my IV that I lean back and audibly say “oh my god.” I feel it ripple like a shock wave from my arm down to the ends of my body. My belly is feeling alright now. 

The ultrasound technician tells me that babies are the least common thing she uses ultrasounds for. My joke has fallen flat. Back in the room, the doctor and his manila folder tell me “Good news! No gallstones, there are kidney stones inside your kidneys, but since they are inside, you shouldn’t be feeling the pain from those.” “Wait, does that mean I have to pee those stones out at some poin–” It is not discussed again. Seeing that neither organ has the appropriate stones, Doc would “rather not expose me to more radiation than necessary” and is working on discharging me. But, “I won’t leave here without a diagnosis.” 

In I go to the CT scan tube. That hot squish of contrast dye spreading through my veins. “Okay, we’re moving you into a room upstairs.” Says a hippy technician. Upstairs in my sweet and swanky single with couch, a person I’m pretty sure is just a businessman disguised in medical scrubs types on a computer. He takes down my answers to what seem like pre-surgery questions. “Do you have anybody specific on file in the event you are medically unable to yield consent  for yourself?” This, combined fact that they won’t feed me, makes me wonder what it is I’m going into surgery for. I saw this same thing about a year and a half ago with the whole brain debacle, but that’s a story for another time. Several medical people dip in, sprinkle breadcrumbs of information; it’s like a game show challenge that combines a scavenger hunt with a jigsaw puzzle. You have to gather the pieces of information from their hiding places, then assemble them in the correct order to reveal an answer. A tech comes in and spoils the game, “You seem to have a lot of questions, so I just want to make sure, you know you have appendicitis right? We’re about to take it out.” “Thank god,” I think. “It’s not the spicy foods. Spicy foods are still in.” Downstairs, in pre-op, I complain to my plain-clothes surgeon about how analog tests like pressing on my stomach are remarkably inaccurate, since a doctor’s subjective interpretation of my poor description of say, “the pain is slightly higher” can rule out appendicitis, the same appendicitis that a machine might spot an hour later. I tell him that I almost got sent home. My surgeon tells me he’s been doing analogue tests for 30 years, and not to worry about it. I start to tell him how “my deadpan reaction to pain also causes a lot of people to misdiagnose me, that a lot of people laugh when I describe how I’m in pai–”, but he walks away in the middle to get dressed for surgery. The operating room has big TVs and lights, it looks like a set, and I consider the possibility of fake hospitals as the anesthesia takes the wheel.

In the recovery area, the nurse tells me how big, inflamed appendixes can be agitated by spicy foods, foods high in fat, and dense foods like heavy cheese. I see an image of a spotlit cheese steak appear in a black void. Nurse feeds me ice chips and tells me she craves ice chips when she’s dehydrated. I suggest that she only craves ice chips because she works in a hospital, that ice chips are too unsatisfying a thing to crave at random, and that most people would just crave water. She agrees. Back upstairs in my room, it is now 8pm, and it has been 26 hours since I’ve eaten. I’ve been hydrated only through IV’s. The driest mouth and the clearest pee. Because the lingering anesthetic can cause nausea and vomiting, they will only give me jello. I go nuts on the jello. They continue to give me every jello I ask for, one at a time, like a test. Way past where I though the cutoff point would be, the nurse tells me “That’s it! There’s no more jello! You ate all the jello on this floor.” You’re damn right I did, you’re damn right….

Among the Crowd (Soulmate AU)

Summary: Soulmates’ worlds go from black and white to colors when they are in the same room for the first time. Bucky is a famous actor in the middle of a convention, trying to find his soulmate, you.

Word Count: 2,232

A/N: This is a re-write of a Dean W. fic and I hope you all like it :D 

Originally posted by v-writings

Bucky took a swig of water, tightening the cap on the bottle before setting it to the side. His meet-and-greet was about to start. He could hear the bustling of the crowd right outside the door and took a deep breath. Alongside him was Clint, a co-star.

“You doing okay, buddy?” asked Clint, eyes concerned as he placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

After a few minutes, Nat Romanoff and Sam Wilson took their seats next to each other and the writer of the show, Bucky’s oldest friend, Steve Rogers, emerged from behind the black curtain that had been put up behind the actors.

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Overwatch shipping names

Since I’m having a hard time finding out what the names of rarepairs for Overwatch are, I decided to make a master-list of all the ship names I know. These aren’t official names by any means; just the ones that seem to yield the most results when you look for the ship. I’ll be updating this with any other ships I find, as well as anything that people add to it. If y’all would like me to add a ship, just send me the ship name and I’ll get it on here.

More under the cut, since this gets long. (I do repeat ships, but I want this to be organized so anyone else can search it by one hero.)

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To some people, surrender may have negative connotations, implying defeat, giving up, failing to rise to the challenges of life, becoming lethargic, and so on. True surrender, however, is something entirely different. It does not mean to passively put up with whatever situation you find yourself in and to do nothing about it. Nor does it mean to cease making plans or initiating positive action. Surrender is the simple but profound wisdom of yielding to rather than opposing the flow of life.
—  Eckhart Tolle

Democrats should also use the Senate’s rules encouraging free and open debate to take advantage of every opportunity to press Republicans directly and publicly on why they continue to cover for President Trump instead of holding him accountable. Senators can and should flood the floor with speeches and hold frequent news conferences on Trump’s ties to Russia. But they can also engage Republicans directly on the Senate floor and force them to publicly defend their blind obedience to the most conflicted and compromised president in recent history.
For instance, McConnell delivers opening remarks every day during “leader time,” when the Senate convenes every morning. The rules allow one senator to ask any other senator who is speaking on the floor to “yield for a question.” Democrats can make a point of asking McConnell to yield for a question about why, for instance, he is still trying to cast doubt on the intelligence community by stating that Russia “may have” hacked our election in his speech Wednesday — when the entire U.S. intelligence community concluded in January that Russia was the perpetrator.

Democrats can repeat this tactic every time a Republican senator is speaking on the floor. Engaging fellow senators in debate and asking them to defend their positions in public would also revive the Senate’s tradition of being free, open and extemporaneous debate, instead of the place it has devolved into in recent decades where senators mindlessly read speeches written by their staff to an empty chamber. Republicans can dodge reporters in the halls of the Capitol or refuse to hold town halls back home, but it is far more difficult for them to dodge their fellow senators on the floor. And if they refuse to yield for questions, they will demonstrate that they are unable to publicly defend their position. In an environment where polls show the public yearning for Congress to act as a check on Trump, the American people will get to judge whether Republicans are fulfilling that role for themselves, with the unblinking eye of C-SPAN recording it all in real time.