we have the best food

Food Glorious Food

I don’t usually post food pictures but as I mentioned The Penny Hedge in Whitby in an earlier post, and as the food is some of the best we have ever had, I thought I would share it.

Top: rotisserie chicken with southern style gravy, mashed potatoes, vegetables

Middle: rotisserie chicken with sweet chilli sauce, fries, corn and chicken goujons

Bottom: double burger with beef burnt ends, fries, onion rings and coleslaw

@xerohourcheese @darthsosara666

2

I rode my bike to the forest last week and I got lost for a while! It was amazing :’) also this is last week’s spread! (I’m actually spending most of the time doing nothing but watching movies haha)

Church Lady Deviled Eggs from Chef Art Smith’s Homecoming located in Disney Springs.

8

Emma Swan Appreciation Meme

Day 4: Favorite Season 2 Episode ↠  Lady of the lake 

Patton’s Speech to the Third Army, June 5th, 1944

Gentlemen, be seated,

Men, all this stuff you hear about America not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the war, is a lot of bullshit. Americans love to fight. All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big-league ball players and the toughest boxers. Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time. That’s why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war. The very thought of losing is hateful to Americans. Battle is the most significant competition in which a man can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base.

You are not all going to die. Only two percent of you right here today would be killed in a major battle. Every man is scared in his first action. If he says he’s not, he’s a goddamn liar. But the real hero is the man who fights even though he’s scared. Some men will get over their fright in a minute under fire, some take an hour, and for some it takes days. But the real man never lets his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood.

All through your army career you men have bitched about what you call ‘this chicken-shit drilling.’ That is all for a purpose—to ensure instant obedience to orders and to create constant alertness. This must be bred into every soldier. I don’t give a fuck for a man who is not always on his toes. But the drilling has made veterans of all you men. You are ready! A man has to be alert all the time if he expects to keep on breathing. If not, some German son-of-a-bitch will sneak up behind him and beat him to death with a sock full of shit. There are four hundred neatly marked graves in Sicily, all because one man went to sleep on the job—but they are German graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before his officer did.

An army is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, and fights as a team. This individual hero stuff is bullshit. The bilious bastards who write that stuff for the Saturday Evening Post don’t know any more about real battle than they do about fucking. And we have the best team—we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity these poor bastards we’re going up against.

All the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters. Every single man in the army plays a vital role. So don’t ever let up. Don’t ever think that your job is unimportant. What if every truck driver decided that he didn’t like the whine of the shells and turned yellow and jumped headlong into a ditch? That cowardly bastard could say to himself, 'Hell, they won’t miss me, just one man in thousands.’ What if every man said that? Where in the hell would we be then? No, thank God, Americans don’t say that. Every man does his job. Every man is important. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns, the quartermaster is needed to bring up the food and clothes for us because where we are going there isn’t a hell of a lot to steal. Every last damn man in the mess hall, even the one who boils the water to keep us from getting the GI shits, has a job to do.

Each man must think not only of himself, but think of his buddy fighting alongside him. We don’t want yellow cowards in the army. They should be killed off like flies. If not, they will go back home after the war, goddamn cowards, and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the goddamn cowards and we’ll have a nation of brave men.

One of the bravest men I saw in the African campaign was on a telegraph pole in the midst of furious fire while we were moving toward Tunis. I stopped and asked him what the hell he was doing up there. He answered, 'Fixing the wire, sir.’ 'Isn’t it a little unhealthy up there right now?’ I asked. 'Yes sir, but this goddamn wire has got to be fixed.’ I asked, 'Don’t those planes strafing the road bother you?’ And he answered, 'No sir, but you sure as hell do.’ Now, there was a real soldier. A real man. A man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how great the odds, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty appeared at the time.

And you should have seen the trucks on the road to Gabès. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they crawled along those son-of-a-bitch roads, never stopping, never deviating from their course with shells bursting all around them. Many of the men drove over 40 consecutive hours. We got through on good old American guts. These were not combat men. But they were soldiers with a job to do. They were part of a team. Without them the fight would have been lost.

Sure, we all want to go home. We want to get this war over with. But you can’t win a war lying down. The quickest way to get it over with is to get the bastards who started it. We want to get the hell over there and clean the goddamn thing up, and then get at those purple-pissing Japs. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we go home. The shortest way home is through Berlin and Tokyo. So keep moving. And when we get to Berlin, I am personally going to shoot that paper-hanging son-of-a-bitch Hitler.

When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a Boche will get him eventually. The hell with that. My men don’t dig foxholes. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. We’ll win this war, but we’ll win it only by fighting and showing the Germans that we’ve got more guts than they have or ever will have. We’re not just going to shoot the bastards, we’re going to rip out their living goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We’re going to murder those lousy Hun cocksuckers by the bushel-fucking-basket.

Some of you men are wondering whether or not you’ll chicken out under fire. Don’t worry about it. I can assure you that you’ll all do your duty. War is a bloody business, a killing business. The Nazis are the enemy. Wade into them, spill their blood or they will spill yours. Shoot them in the guts. Rip open their belly. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt from your face and you realize that it’s not dirt, it’s the blood and gut of what was once your best friend, you’ll know what to do.

I don’t want any messages saying 'I’m holding my position.’ We’re not holding a goddamned thing. We’re advancing constantly and we’re not interested in holding anything except the enemy’s balls. We’re going to hold him by his balls and we’re going to kick him in the ass; twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all the time. Our plan of operation is to advance and keep on advancing. We’re going to go through the enemy like shit through a tinhorn.

There will be some complaints that we’re pushing our people too hard. I don’t give a damn about such complaints. I believe that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder we push, the more Germans we kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing harder means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that. My men don’t surrender. I don’t want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he is hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight. That’s not just bullshit either. I want men like the lieutenant in Libya who, with a Luger against his chest, swept aside the gun with his hand, jerked his helmet off with the other and busted the hell out of the Boche with the helmet. Then he picked up the gun and he killed another German. All this time the man had a bullet through his lung. That’s a man for you!

Don’t forget, you don’t know I’m here at all. No word of that fact is to be mentioned in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell they did with me. I’m not supposed to be commanding this army. I’m not even supposed to be in England. Let the first bastards to find out be the goddamned Germans. Some day, I want them to rise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl 'Ach! It’s the goddamned Third Army and that son-of-a-bitch Patton again!’

Then there’s one thing you men will be able to say when this war is over and you get back home. Thirty years from now when you’re sitting by your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks, 'What did you do in the great World War Two?’ You won’t have to cough and say, 'Well, your granddaddy shoveled shit in Louisiana.’ No sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say 'Son, your granddaddy rode with the great Third Army and a son-of-a-goddamned-bitch named George Patton!’

All right, you sons of bitches. You know how I feel. I’ll be proud to lead you wonderful guys in battle anytime, anywhere. That’s all.

Aquatic Transformations (Part 2)

Part 1

It was strange when you woke up, feeling different than you had the day before. Were you cheerful? Were you happy to talk to other ‘people?’ You had no clue, but one thing you did know was that you were going to practice swimming before you met everyone. Doing laps around the tank, you started to get better at it. You tried different positions, moving your arms around in different directions, but you found that it was best to keep them at your sides. Not long after you felt like you had mastered your fins, someone was at the top of the tank, waving. You swam up and tried jumping out of the water as if you were a dolphin, sliding across the deck on your stomach and nearly bumping into whoever it was. After coughing and catching your breath, you could see who it was.

They were about seven feet tall and had two sets of arms like Dr. Kriyan, but their skin was tinted blue and had almost a reptilian look to them, them wearing some kind of uniform that reminded you of a butler. They seemed quite startled about your daring escapade and were worried. “Young miss, are you okay?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked up and noticed they had a covered platter in one of his hands.

“I… I’m just fine.” You said, still huffing a little. “D-Did you bring food?” You asked, feeling as though you could eat a horse. “All that swimming got me hungry.”

“Y-Yes, I did, young miss. We have done our best to recreate some human food with what supplies we received from Earth.” They said, bringing the platter down towards you. You sat with your tail in front of you, which was really the only position you could be in on land, and took it from him. Once you opened it, you found lots of your favorite fruits and some veggies, along with a sandwich.

“Oh my… How did you know these were my favorites?!” You asked them, looking back up at them. You took a bite of the sandwich and instantly fell in love. It was the best ham you had ever tasted.

They seemed to blush. “W-We did research on each of y-you. I was t-tasked with finding your f-f-favorite foods for our travel to K-Kashi.” They looked away from you, face getting redder. “A-And miss, I also have this for you to wear, if you would like to.” They pulled out a white bikini top and handed it to you. “S-Since you all used to wear something over your bodies…”

Setting your platter aside, you gently took the top from them and immediately tied it into place, it fitting perfectly. “Thank you so much. I didn’t realize how much I missed wearing clothes.” You told them, seeing as they relaxed once you had the top on. “I take it you all are bashful about being naked as well?” You asked curiously as you picked up your platter once more and started to eat again.

“W-Why yes. Our females do not tend to w-wear very m-much, but us m-males prefer everyone to be w-w-well dressed and concealed.” He said, you now making a mental note about his gender. He still seemed a bit nervous, but started to calm down.

“Oh, okay then.” You said to him, then finished your sandwich. “Hey, you don’t need to be so nervous around me. What’s your name?” You asked, trying to soothe them a little bit.

He sighed, calming himself down. “M-My name is Brunta. I will be your caretaker while you are in the tank.” He tried to smile a little. “The doctor hopes to have you all well adjusted and ready to be moved to the lake in about two weeks, just so you know. I hope you can relay that information to the others in a little while. The other caretakers can’t communicate too well with them, even with our devices.” He pointed to something metal attached to his small ear, it looking almost like an earing.

“I’ll try my best to. I haven’t been able to talk to them yet, but I seemed to calm them down some yesterday before I went to sleep.” You told him, then you started on eating your favorites amongst the fruit, which were strawberries. “My name’s Marin, by the way.” You told him after finishing a few.

After chatting with him some, he took your tray and said you needed to prepare for meeting everyone else from Earth. You jumped back into the water and attempted to fix your tangled hair, when all of a sudden, the tanks started to move closer together, towards a large, center tank. Once everything had stopped, slits seemed to open between the tanks. You swam up to the opening and passed into the big tank, seeing that some of the others hand joined you in there as well.

You looked around to find that there seemed to be what looked like snacks and places for all of you to sit and lay near the bottom, so that was where you headed. Everyone else was moving much slower than you were, and were also very curious of you, more than you were of them. They all seemed to calm down a little, and soon you all were talking to each other. The doc was right. You could now talk and communicate underwater.

Everyone was done socializing and getting to know one another. They were all scared, but once you shared with them what Brunta had shared with you, and what the doc had said, they all seemed to calm down a little more, but still seemed to be wary. You could understand why though. Being turned into weird fish-like creatures? Not cool. Most of them looked very fish-like, but some of them had distinct human features. Distinct eyes, nose, hair… It was all so strange to everyone. Most were convinced this was some weird dream.

All the tanks closed and were now separated, the glass now tinting to make it seem like it was dark out. The lights up top seemed to dim as well. As you started to get comfortable in your little pillow nest, you started to feel warm and tingly. Not understanding why, you tried looking down at the front of your lower half and noticed a slit around where your crotch used to be. Oh gosh, was this why you felt weird? You moved your hand closer and couldn’t help feeling around, making you gasp. Yep, that’s why you felt weird.

It was much different than what you were used to, but kinda similar in the same way. Fingers found themselves entering your slit, and you couldn’t help but moan quietly in your tank. This felt much better than it normally did. Was it these new genes you had? No clue, but you kept at it for a while, trying to fix your issue, but to no success. You didn’t even care if there was anyone watching you.

You laid there on your back, without your top, in your little nest, your slit still somewhat open from how long you had fingered yourself, and sighed. You weren’t completely satisfied. There was still this wanting feeling in you, as if you wished for something to fill you. It almost drove you crazy. Nevertheless, you started to move your fingers down once more to try and satisfy yourself, this strange feeling not ceasing to leave you.

That was, until you heard something jump into your tank. You looked up, thinking it was one of the others, but they were large and similar looking to you. It swam down towards you as you sat up, and placed a hand on your cheek, its fingers webbed and gently rubbing against you. It moved its head towards yours and rubbed its forehead against yours. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and do the same.

“You…” You heard them say in a thick accent. “You were the one who sang.” They moved closer to you, pressing your body down into the pillows with their green tinted one. “Y-your heat is so strong. I sensed it from the lake. Please…” One of their hands moved down towards your entrance, making you gasp, but you felt so entranced in the feeling that you didn’t want them to stop. “Let me help your new body.”

Gasping as they felt around your entrance, you placed a hand on their shoulder. “Wh-who are you?” You asked in a hushed whisper, then moaned as they felt inside your slit.

“I am Midon.” He said in your ear as he started to kiss your neck, two fingers slowly swirling around in you. “And I want you to be mine.”

His face started to move lower, leaving a trail of kisses where he went, as he moved his fingers in and out of you. Sharp teeth latched around a breast, making your cry out in pleasure as his free hand went at the other. His tongue seemed to work wonders as he sucked and pulled on it, his other hand rubbing and pinching the other peak. You clutched at the pillows beneath you, feeling his long fingers reach deeper into you than you had before, thrusting in and out and increasing speeds. He seemed to be stretching your hole, placing in two more fingers before long, having you moaning whilst grabbing his head. His hair and skin were much more coarse than yours, and made your insides feel incredible as he went deeper. That was, until, he pulled his fingers out.

“I need your permission.” He asked you, moving his hand towards his own slip. A large member soon started to slide out, the tip of it tapered at the end and the base quite large. It was a pale green, similar to his skin, with the base almost seeming to bulge. “I know you want it, but I must ask.” He pressed his head against yours, his silver eyes staring into your own. From here, you could see all of him. His pointed nose, chiseled shoulders, and deep blue tail. He looked absolutely handsome. All you could do was nod.

He started to press his member into your slip, slowly, and you could only moan and wrap your arms around him once more. You pulled him closer to you, forcing him to go deeper, making him gasp. He grabbed your waist and started to pump himself into you at a steady, but slowly increasing pace. Lips were pressed together as you tried to suppress more moans, and it was obvious he was trying to do the same as your tongues brushed against one another. The fins at each of your sides began to entwine with one another, keeping you both extremely close. Even the small flippers near the ends of your tails latched onto one another, having him push even further into you. He began to push past your limits, sending you over the edge and you cried out his name. He did the same, sending fluids deep within your new body.

As you started to relax, his member didn’t. He groaned as you felt something bulge around your entrance, making you gasp. With little struggle, it pushed up past your slit and made its way against every sweet spot you had just found out you had, and made you cry out once more as it pushed through your cervix. You didn’t have time to catch your breath. Another made it into place, it larger than the first. Midon strained to get this one through your entrance, but after thrusting into you roughly, it finally made its way inside. Then you felt it and the first plop into the fluids he put in you, making you nearly whine. You were panting, hoping that it was almost over, when you felt something massive press at your entrance. Looking up at Midon, you noticed he was smirking.

“This… is challenging.” He said, then grasped your head and kissed you roughly. “But very exciting.” He whispered before kissing you again, grasping your waist and thrusting even harder into you than before, making you cry out louder than before when it entered. Midon continued his pace, and soon enough this large, softball sized orb was pressing against your cervix. In a burst of fluid, it pushed through, sending you over the edge once more with him. He pulled you close, kissing you gently and, after a few moments, removed himself from you, bringing a small trail of his fluids into the water with his member.

“You took that well.” He said, gently rubbing your hips. You panted, moving your arms above your head as he started to kiss your neck. Now, you felt completely exhausted and very full. “I will need to move you before the doctor notices.” He picked you up, bridal style, and swam towards the surface of your tank quickly, then shot out of it and into the air at an alarming speed. You closed your eyes and pressed your face against him whilst you were both in the air, and then he dived towards the ground. You both landed in what you assumed to be the lake, but you were too tired to look around. Gazing up at him, you could see that his expression had softened.

“Get some rest.” He said quietly as he swam with you. “You will need it for tomorrow.” Midon cradled you in his arms, kissing your forehead gently as you slowly drifted into sleep.

anonymous asked:

i know byron can control his composure so well but still i want to see him get super jealous. so please a byron super jealousy fic! please if you could!

Byron had spent six days with the Princess of Wysteria. She was visiting Stein, not her first trip, but the longest she had stayed- the two had quite a few intense discussions about a trade agreement, as well as touring the town and countryside. Byron was proud to show her all of the wonderful things about Stein.

Byron had met many noble and royal women in his lifetime. Probably hundreds, all of them trying their hardest to impress him, falling over themselves and each other just to get the attention of the young and handsome King of Stein.

This Princess was different, she was polite, knowledgeable, and admirable, but she never went out of her way to “impress” Byron like the other ladies, she simply stayed her quiet, confident self. She was a very genuine person, he thought.

“This is the museum of our county’s history,” Byron said as the coachman opened the carriage door. “I hope you’ll enjoy learning more about Stein.”

“I am very excited,” the Princess replied with a smile and a nod. “Stein has always been so mysterious, I can’t wait to know more.”

Byron had this strange feeling the past few days. This stirring feeling, like an excited, uneasy twinge whenever he was meeting with her. He couldn’t wait to finish his other duties to see her. He wanted to memorize her face and how she smiled before she left. He wanted to be close to her -physically close to her, but he didn’t understand why. Every time she looked at him, he couldn’t help but smile back.

The two entered the museum and began their tour with Byron as the guide. Byron directed her through the halls, and they looked at the paintings of former rulers and over old documents.

“King Byron-” a familiar voice called. “Your Majesty, please introduce me to your lovely friend.” It was Nolan Schneider, an Archduke of Stein.

“Archduke Schneider, this is the Princess of Wysteria,” Byron introduced them. “She’s visiting to learn more about Stein and discuss some politics with me this week.” Byron didn’t know why, but he felt so proud introducing her, his cheeks grew hot.

The next thing that happened made Byron’s cheeks even hotter, but not with pleasure. The Archduke not only bowed, but took the Princess’ hand, kissing the back of it, and making her blush at his touch.

Byron swallowed his displeasure. “Let us continue,”

“Oh King Byron, you know how I love history,” Archduke Schneider said. “Please let me finish the tour with you.”

Byron nodded, regretful that he’d let this oaf interrupt their pleasant afternoon. He had never disliked Nolan, but there was something different today- Byron wanted to keep this afternoon tour with the Princess to himself, he didn’t want to share his time with her.

The Archduke continued, he was too touchy-feely in Byron’s eyes, placing his hand on the small of the Princess’ back to lead her around, or touching her hand when he spoke about certain pieces of art - Byron had never touched her, and now he wanted to even more, he was so aggravated at how Nolan did so with such ease. Like it was cheap and meaningless. Nolan made her laugh too- she sounded like an angel and her face lit up, Byron had not made her laugh, and he was beginning to get very annoyed with Nolan’s antics.

Never in his life had Byron experienced this… whatever this was, and Nolan had certainly never been a threat to him- but suddenly, all Byron wanted was for Nolan to leave the two of them alone.

After the tour was finished, Byron was relieved until Nolan spoke, “What is next on your itinerary? How about lunch? I know a wonderful cafe.”

The Princess chuckled, “I mean, I am a little hungry. What had you planned, Your Majesty?” She looked at Byron.

“I was planning on going to Gustav’s, they have a wonderful atmosphere and fantastic quality.”

Nolan interrupted, “No, no - let me take you my cousin’s restaurant; we have the best food in town. I promise you, Princess,” he nudged her elbow and Byron felt a flame shoot through his chest. “Do you enjoy mutton, Princess? We have wonderful mutton dishes.”

The Princess smiled, “I do love mutton stew,” she said.

Byron did not want to make a scene, but all he knew was that he did not want the Archduke to spoil their afternoon and possibly their evening. His lips formed a tight line across his face and he narrowed his eye at Nolan, who seemed to completely ignore the warning.

“It’s this way; let me show you.” Nolan said, linking his elbow in the crook of her arm and gently guiding her along. The two walked ahead of Byron on the path, the Archduke continued to make the Princess smile and giggle.

Byron blew out a breath. He still didn’t understand what was going on, but he didn’t like it one bit. Why was Nolan so appealing to the Princess? Byron wanted her attention back on him- he wanted… he wanted her to like spending time with him. He wanted her to like him more than Nolan.

The trio sat through lunch, and finally the Archduke had to excuse himself, though not before trying to invite himself to the castle for tea the next day- which Byron put a stop to; saying they were way too busy for visitors.

Once again Nolan gave the Princess a kiss on the back of her hand, and squeezed her fingers in his before he departed. The act left Byron feeling a heat that nearly seared his insides. He sat there, completely helpless- another feeling he’d never experience before.

“I hope to see you again, Princess.” Nolan winked at her. “Let me know when you’re in Stein again, even if King Byron is busy- I would love to have tea with you.”

In the carriage on the way back to the castle, Byron was quiet. He didn’t understand what was going on, he just had this lump on his throat and this angry feeling when he thought about Nolan touching the Princess and making her laugh.

“King Byron, are you ok?” The Princess’ voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yes. I’m fine.” He replied.

There was an awkward silence between them.

“Archduke Schneider and you are good friends?” She asked.

“Our families have been friends,” Byron replied. “He and I grew up together.”

“He seems pleasant.”

“Do you find him appealing?” Byron stared out the window.

“Umm, Archduke Schneider is rather overwhelming,” She chuckled nervously.

“I’m sorry?” Byron didn’t understand. He turned to look at the Princess.

“He’s quite intense. I’m … sorry, this is quite candid, I hope I’m not being rude.” She frowned. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, that wasn’t very proper.”

All Byron felt was relief. “Did you think he was funny?” He didn’t know since when he cared about ladies thinking he or anyone else was funny.

“He’s charming, I guess.” She sighed.

“Oh.”

“I actually think you’re rather funny,” The Princess said. “Wow,” she laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, I mean, I find you very fun to be with.“ She was blushing now, and stumbling over her words. “I like spending time with you.”

Byron’s mouth went dry, no ones words had ever mattered to him as much as what she had just spoken. He didn’t know how or why they’d had such an impact- but it made him happier than any other moment he could remember.

Byron had never been more scared to ask a question in his entire life. “Are you going to have tea with Archduke Schneider on your next visit to Stein?”

“I know it would be polite,” she sighed. “But I would rather not, unless you are there, King Byron.” She looked at him with a smile, a genuine, warm smile that made Byron’s heart jump. It was thudding in his chest now, and sending shivers to al his extremities.

Byron didn’t know what it all meant. This eye opening afternoon with the Princess and Nolan. All he wanted was to make sure she looked at him like she was right now - he wanted to make her laugh, make her happy, he wanted her to think only of him.

How do we welcome home our lost brothers and sisters? By running out to them, embracing them, and kissing them. By clothing them with the best clothes we have and making them our honored guests. By offering them the best food and inviting friends and family for a party. And, most important of all, by not asking for excuses or explanations, only showing our immense joy that they are with us again. (See Luke 15:20-24).

That is being perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect. It is forgiving from the heart without a trace of self-righteousness, recrimination, or even curiosity. The past is wiped out. What counts is the here and now, where all that fills our hearts is gratitude for the homecoming of our brothers and sisters.

—  Henri Nouwen
6

six of crows modern AU: instagram (psd credit)

4

- How do you feel about returning in Japan after a long absence?

Mads: “This time it’s also very enjoyable. I was honored to be able to visit a traditional Japanese “Yakatabune”. I was able to meet bhikkhu at the temple and I also met with the game creator Hideo-san (Hideo Kojima) and also were in his wonderful studio. And of course we have lots of the best Japanese food. Of course I was working, but for about an hour (laugh).”

[’Doctor Strange’ fan meeting in Japan, 27.01.2017]

Rae of Sunshine- Chapter 3 Break You

Pairing: Eric/OC

Fandom: Divergent

Rating: M

Summary: Rae thought Amity was where she belonged. Even with her dark past fuming inside of her, she had always done her best to suppress it. With Choosing Day approaching she was confident in her decision to stay in Amity. That is until a certain Dauntless Leader came roaring into Amity’s gates. Once Eric has Rae in his sights he is willing to do anything to have her, even if that means breaking her and destroying the world she lives in.

word count: 3,553


The compound looked ghostly at night. Empty of all its happy go lucky worker bees and the sound of all their buzzing. The only sounds that could be heard now were the chirpings of the pesky grasshoppers and crickets that roamed around in the fields. The chirping seemed to grow louder and louder until it suddenly ceased. Almost like something had interrupted them while rustling through the thick lush of grass.

A dark shadowy figure glided through the fields, heading in the direct of the wall that kept the unknown out. The silhouette moved through the thick forest where it stopped at a very familiar spot. Rae’s old demolition site that had been abandon many years ago. It still contained all the shattered remnants of Rae’s soul, along with the old beat up car. The hooded figure stepped further into the opening of the location, unveiling her hood.

“Lovely night for a stroll isn’t it Johanna?”

Johanna was startled by the voice that came up from behind, causing her to suddenly jerk away from the hot breath on her neck. She peered into the glowing eyes staring back at her in anticipation for her to speak.

“Yes, it is. I’m glad it was nice enough for us to have our meeting you so urgently demanded. Now, what is it you want Kent?” Johanna said while straightening her back up.

“Oh come on Johanna. Don’t you like our little chats we have? Okay fine I’ll get to the point. He’s not happy with Amity lately. First the shortage of food, now Dauntless patrolling around Amity. He’s starting to become very displeased with your performance and feels like maybe Amity needs a little reminder.” He threatened.

“No! No please! We’re doing the best we can, but we have to have enough food for all the other factions, not just the Factionless. It’s been hard reach your demands. As for Dauntless, there’s nothing I can do. Their leader is growing suspicious. Please just give us more time. We gave you more than enough food last time.”

“Johanna, he’s been more than generous to Amity. I mean he’s made sure to keep the chaos out of your compound. Remember he’s the one keeping Amity from burning to the ground. And the only way to keep him satisfied is to give him your contribution to our cause. The more time given the more desperate our people become and you should know desperate people do desperate things.” He warned.

“I know. I know what your people are capable of. Please just tell me what I need to do.”

“It’s simple. Get rid of Dauntless. Give us our food you owe and then wait until your services are needed again. See easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy. That is unless you decide to be uncooperative or Dauntless starts to cause us problems. Then we’ll have to take some affirmative action people will start to get hurt, go missing, burn, but you already know that don’t you?”

Johanna swallowed the malice of his words, knowing his threats we’re real. “I understand. I’ll have your supplies ready.” She declared.

Kent smiled at her submission and chuckled. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that. See the five factions have their system of operations and we have ours. You have a goodnight, Johanna. I can’t wait till our next meet.” He said slipping into the darkness of the forest.

Johanna narrowed her eyes as he disappeared into the murky woodland. Her mind was running in a million different directions. How was she going to get enough food together in time for the factionless on top of everyone else Amity had to feed? How was she going to get Eric and his Dauntless regime out of Amity? Did she just make a deal with the Devil?


Rae’s mornings usually ran the same. She’d typically give herself an extra five minutes of sleep, which would result in her tardiness. She was lucky it was her day off considering the amount of sleep she got last night. The events from yesterday had her head spinning all night long. Rae wiped the sleep from her eyes and rolled out of bed. She needed to get ready for rehearsals with Joshua. Rae ran through her closet before settling on her favorite yellow sundress. She moved to the bathroom to brush her teeth and quickly ran her fingers through her loose curls. Stepping into the kitchen she could already smell the sweet apple cinnamon aroma in the air. Two apple turnovers and her peace tea were appropriately waiting for her along with her tea. After devouring her breakfast, she threw on her sandals and was on her way out the door.

Walking through Amity, Rae noticed a change in the atmosphere. The genuine smiles that walked around the compound seemed a lower than usual. This was probably due to the fact that Dauntless were hovering through the crowd. While most Dauntless moved swiftly to their assigned sentry duty. Some packs lingered around the dome, taunting any Amity that walked by. As Rae neared the dome, she knew she wouldn’t go unscathed from their crude comments.

“Fuck! The guys back at home were right on one thing about Amity. The women here look fucking delicious. I mean look at those hips! Hey baby where you going?” one called out.

Some whistling followed suit but Rae just ignored their comment and moved to walk in before being stopped by a familiar face.

“Well Goodmorning Sugar. I’ve been thinking about you I wanted to get to know you a little better but you left in such a hurry last night I didn’t get to. How about tonight we meet up for some cherry picking? Hmm, what do you say?” Luke proposed as he blocks her access.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer as Dauntless should be gone by this afternoon and I wouldn’t want to cause you anymore insoluble feelings that I can’t and would never return. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Rae quipped as she pushed passed Luke. She didn’t bother looking back at his face as she pretty much had a good visual of what it probably looked liked.

As Rae entered she was astonished by all the decorations that were already up. There were elegant paper lanterns streaming all around. She could envision how beautiful it was going to look at night lite up. She noticed an array of ribbons and flowers that also adorned the walls. It probably was a good thing that Joshua was helping out with the decoration as it looked like a lot of work was put into decorating the dome.

Rae snapped out of her mesmerized state when she heard the loud banging of hammers. She looks over to the center where the tree stood and saw Joshua and another man working on the stage. Rae started walking towards the stage before being stopped by Cara.

“Oh, my gosh Rae. How are you? What do you think of the decorations? They were all my ideas. Their way better than last years don’t you think?” Cara jabbered.

“Oh yeah. It looks really good Cara, you guys did a great job. I just came to see if Joshua wanted to go rehearse for a little bit.”

“I don’t know about that, we still have a lot to do. I’m sure your little song can wait.” Cara said. Rae raised her eyebrow at Cara’s comment. She knew Cara expected for her to roll over but Rae wasn’t about to let that happen not when she and Joshua were finally starting to reignite their relationship.

“Well, why don’t we just go ask Joshua what he wants to do.” Rae declared as she brushed passed Cara. Cara trailed not far behind Rae. Joshua looked up from hammering to see Rae smiling at him.

“Rae, what are you doing here?” Joshua said surprised. “I thought we could rehearse a little since we didn’t yesterday. Is that okay?” Rae questioned innocently. Cara was behind her with her hand firmly on her hips not looking too pleased with Rae.

“Of course! I’d love to. Besides we’re almost done here anyway, I’ll grab my guitar and we can go practice.” Joshua declared while jumping off the half finished stage.

Rae smiled at the victory she just won against Cara, “Great!”


Rae enjoyed warming up with Joshua it gave them time to joke around and laugh. It was blissful to Rae, she felt like Joshua was the only one to make her feel truly happy. That’s all she wanted with Joshua to be happy with herself and her life.

“The decorations look really great Joshua. That collar Cara has on you must be working.” Rae giggled as he tuned his guitar. “Collar? What collar? All I did was help decorate.” Joshua stated.

“Oh come on. It’s obvious Cara wants you. That’s why she pulled you away from me. To keep you all to herself.”

“Rae, no one could ever pull me away from you.”

“Do you really mean that?” Rae asked as Joshua leaned in inches from her face still smiling. “I do.” He said. Their lips were millimeters apart when the doors suddenly burst open.

“Well well well. What do we have here?” Luke said with a pack of soldiers behind him. Rae turn blood shot red from the intrusion. First embarrassment came over her but was quickly turned into anger, but she knew she needed to contain it for Joshua’s sake.

“We’re rehearsing if you don’t mind. Please leave we need to practice.” Rae defended.

“Well if that’s how you practicing mind if I chime in,” Luke said walking towards the two of them.

Joshua stood up in front of Rae coaxing her behind him. Joshua puffed out his chest to try to intimidate Luke but his efforts were futile as Luke met his stance. “Look we don’t want any problems,” Joshua stated. Luke grabbed Joshua by the collar of his shirt pulling him dangerously close. “Well, then you should be causing any.” Luke barked. “Let him go!” Rae yelled as she tried to pry Luke’s hands from Joshua’s shirt. Without any effort at all Luke’s pushed Rae away with more force than he should have, causing her to hit the floor. She hesitated for a split second and then grabbed Joshua’s guitar.

“You know what really bugs me about Amity? Hmmm? Pussy men like you.” Luke spat as he reared his fist back ready to inflict pain. His actions were prevented when a guitar bashed the back of his head. Luke doubled back holding his head with his hands in pain.

“Motherfucker! You bitch!” he screamed.

Everyone in the room was in shock by the little Amity’s actions even Rae, herself. The look of terror came over her face when she realized what she had done. Before she could even run the dauntless soldiers were already restraining her arms. She screamed and struggled in their firm hold. A stream of tears started staining her face as she looked to Joshua who was mortified by the scene. She kept screaming his name as they dragged her out of the room wondering what their plans were for her next.


She was placed in Johanna’s office, which was unoccupied when they got there. Rae was still trembling, thinking about her punishment she would face for striking a soldier. ‘What would they do to her? What would Eric do to her?’ She thought. Rae regretted not being able to control her rage but she couldn’t just stand by watch Luke pummel Joshua like that. ‘Oh god! Joshua! He saw everything she did. What was she going to do now?’ she thought.

Rae was pulled from her thoughts when she heard the door behind her fly open. She didn’t look back to see who it was she wanted to make as little eye contact as possible. By the sound of heavy boots hitting the floor, she already knew who it was. Eric was silent as he made his way to the desk. As he sat down he kept quiet and only grinned at Rae. After a minute or two he finally began to speak.

“Well sunshine it seems you just can’t stay out of trouble, can you? But I must say I was rather surprised when I heard you assaulted one of my men.”

Rae didn’t say anything, she couldn’t even look at him after hearing his words. She thought back to last night and what had happened between them. Rae came to the conclusion that, that probably didn’t help her situation. “You know, I knew you were different from the others. I could sense it, anyone in a five hundred mile radius could. You can act like your all about peace and harmony, but face it Sunshine you’re just like me, full of rage and violence.” He sneered.

“I am nothing like you!” she cried. “One of your men attacked my friend.”

“And who was this friend?”

“It doesn’t matter, the point is he was about to attack my friend and so my instincts just kicked in and I hit him with a guitar!”

Eric couldn’t help but laugh, “If that’s not a Hippie attack I don’t know what is. Did you at least try to stop him with your ‘flower power’?”

“I did! He pushed me causing me to crash to the floor. I probably have bruises now!” Rae defended.

Eric demeanor changed after he heard about Luke pushing Rae. More importantly, he thought about how Luke had his hands on Rae. He was the only one who could touch. She didn’t know this but she would soon enough. Before Eric could further his interrogation Johanna burst through the door.

“Rae! Oh, my goodness are you okay? Joshua came and got me and told me what happened.” Johanna breathlessly said.

“Joshua is it?” Eric said getting confirmation on Rae’s ‘friend.’ He would be watching Joshua very closely now. Rae kept her head down and fiddled with her hands.

“Eric! What is the meaning of this interrogation? She has done nothing wrong. You have no authority when it comes to Amity and our punishments.” Johanna claimed.

“I never said she was being interrogated. I just needed to get her side of the story and she has assaulted one of my soldiers. So since this involves Dauntless I have the authority to choose how to deal with this.” He stated.

“Eric they were just getting ready for the festival coming up this won’t happen again. Besides Dauntless is leaving today you have more important things to deal with than a small Amity incident.” Johanna said hoping he would drop the punishment and leave with his Dauntless army.

“As it turns out Dauntless will be extending their stay here in Amity.” He answered.

Rae felt her stomach flip, that meant more Dauntless, more Luke, More Eric. Her tears silently ran down her face as she looked to Johanna for some type of comfort.

“Under who’s orders?” she asked. “Mine. Is that a problem?” he question. “Of course not everyone is welcomed here,” Johanna said trying to seem calm by his answer.

“Good. I’m so glad I’ll be able to attend the festival. You know how much Dauntless loves a good party.” He said cheerfully as he got up to exit the room. “Oh and don’t think you won’t face any type of punishment Sunshine. You will, I just want to give the type of punishment you deserve. And don’t worry about Luke I’ll take care of him.” He promised as he left the room.

Rae felt her whole world crashing around her. Johanna kneeled down in front of her and tried to stop her tears that kept pouring down her cheeks. “Calm down Rae. It’s okay everything will be okay.” Johanna hummed.
“No, it won’t! Dauntless won’t leave. I can’t take much more of this. Johanna, I need a stronger peace remedy. Please! I won’t survive without it. The real me will come out and I can’t have that happen. I might hurt someone like I did today. Please, I need it! Please” She begged.

“Shhh. Okay. Okay, I’ll get you more. Don’t worry I’ll take care of it.” Johanna said holding Rae trembling hands.


Eric stalked his way to the medical station to see Luke. He was infuriated that he thought he had the right to touch Rae after what had happened back at Dauntless. He needed to send Luke a clear message stating to never ever touch what is his. He found Luke doubled over hold an ice pack to the back of his head. He stood in front of Luke looking down at him like he was the lowest of the lows.

“You know I don’t know what’s more disappointing. The fact that you got taken down by a little Amity, a girl for that matter or that you still haven’t learned your lesson from last time.”

“Last time?”

Eric swiftly grabbed Luke’s head bring him down making contact with Eric’s knee. A burst of sheer pain went through Luke as his nose connected to Eric’s knee. Eric then brought him up to his level shoving him against the hall. Blood trickled from Luke’s nose splattering on Eric’s hands. As it was Eric’s style, he wrapped his hands around Luke’s neck cutting off his air supply.

“I’m only going to say this once so listen carefully. If you ever touch her again, I’ll fucking cut off your hands and make you wear them as a necklace.” He threatened. “Do I make myself clear or do you need a little help understanding?”

“No! No! I understand I’ll stay away from her! I swear!” Luke screamed. Eric threw Luke to the ground and continued to wipe his blood on the sides of his pants. “Good. Someone come clean this fucker up!” he commanded as he walked away.


After Johanna promised to get Rae a stronger peace remedy. Rae made her way home and was met by Joshua who was waiting for her. He ran to her and took her into his arms. She didn’t cry and embraced his warm, caring arms.

“Rae I’m so glad you’re okay. What happened? Will you be punished? I wish I could have stopped them. I’m so sorry, Rae.”

“I’m okay. Eric hasn’t made his decision on my punishment yet. Did you tell Poppy what happened?”

“No I’ve only told Johanna, but I can’t say the same for the other Dauntless soldiers that were there.” He exclaimed. Rae looked defeated in that moment word traveled fast through the factions it didn’t matter which one you belonged to everyone knew everyone’s business.

“Look, Joshua, what you saw today it… Well, it…”

“It doesn’t matter. I should have stepped up more. Maybe if I had you wouldn’t have had to do that. I promised you I would protect you and the first sign of danger I failed.” He confessed.

“No Joshua you didn’t fail. You could never fail. Your one of the most important person in my life.” Rae said. Her words warmed him. Her brought her in putting his forehead against hers. They stayed like that for a while until they were interrupted by a dominating voice.

“Move along Amity,” Eric commanded causing Rae to step back in fear. He knows who Joshua is now, his name, his face. Rae’s worse nightmare was now a reality. Joshua stood there and looked at Rae. He knew who Eric was and knew his words shouldn’t be taken lightly, but he also didn’t want to leave Rae.

“It’s okay Joshua. You should go. Don’t worry about me, I’ll see you tomorrow to practice.” Rae assured him.

Eric stepped closer to Joshua, “Move along flower boy.” Joshua swallowed whatever he was feeling and stepped away from Eric moving towards Rae. In fear of what Eric would do she stepped back a yelp “Goodnight Joshua. Please just go.” Defeated Joshua said goodnight and turned away from Rae. He walked passed Eric who was grinning at the rejection. “Goodnight Joshua.” Eric sneered. Joshua ignored Eric’s sarcasm and made his way down the road.

“You don’t have to be so mean you know. He wasn’t doing anything wrong.” She snide.

“Oh but he was. He was touching you and he should know he shouldn’t touch things that don’t belong to him.”

“Fuck you! I don’t belong to you. I’m not your property.”

“You need to watch your mouth sunshine get this through your head sunshine you belong to me and I don’t like other people touching what’s mine. And if you don’t understand that yet, understand this, if I see him touching you again well use your imagination.” He warned as he caressed her cheek. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. She flinched at his touch and tried to move away but his hold on her jaw was too strong that when she tried to move she was in pain.

“God I’m going to have so much fun with your punishment.” He said calmly as he dropped his hand from her face. “What are you going to do to me?” Rae asked quivering.

Eric only smiled and turned to walk off leaving her to her own horrific thoughts. She almost couldn’t hear him but it was clear what he said.

“Break you.”

I like your hair

Character: Keith @ silentwhispofhope


The team is back on Earth for a couple of days and somehow Lance found a party that can be crashed. Hunk, Lance, and Keith were going to be the party crashers. Pidge stayed behind because she wanted to work on the castle’s technology with Coran and Allura. Shiro stayed back because he was not a huge fan of big crowds. And it was a good thing because the party was loud and took place in an old warehouse, it was more like a rave than a party. Glow sticks were everywhere and drinks were being served. Lance was hitting on any girl that would let him. Hunk was on the dance floor having an enjoyable time. Both Hunk and Lance seem to be having a great time. Keith, on the other hand, was leaning against a wall asking himself why he came. He was about to leave and head back to the castle, but then he noticed something.

He noticed this girl with bright red hair. Keith stared at her and was taking away from her beauty. “Why don’t you go talk to her,” Lance said scaring Keith. Keith did not notice that Lance had walked up beside him because he was busy looking at the girl. “And say what,” Keith said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Flirt with the girl. Complements her” Lance said while patting Keith on the back. Keith sighed and began to walk up to the girl.

“He…Hey, I’m Keith” he said while stuttering at his words. The girl smiled at his awkwardness. “I’m y/n,” the girl said with a smirk. She then gave him a big smile. “I like your jacket,” she said pointing to his red jacket. Keith blushed a little and said “I like your hair. Red is my favorite color”. They talked for at least an hour about the color red and what it meant to them and after their conversation, she turned and asked him “do you want to go somewhere a little bit quieter to talk”. Keith smiled and gave her a quick nod. She then gave a small smile and said, “I know this great diner we can go to, that have the best food”. Keith smiled and held out his hand, so she can lead the way.

3

Happy Monday friends! I spent my morning working and almost freezing to death. I was working at the register by the door and it was so cold all I could think about was getting warm. It was also pretty boring so I was so happy to be finishing at 2pm. I was supposed to hang out with some old friends I haven’t seen in forever after work but the plans fell through 😞 so instead I used my spare time to put my feet up over lunch and watch some of my favourite YouTube videos, followed by peanut butter biscuit baking and chocolate + tahini + lemon bliss ball creating. I have made these for my day out tomorrow with my best pal so we have yummy food to eat. Even though I was looking forward to seeing my old friends, instead of being bummed and annoyed I put my time to good use and I am now very exited for tomorrow. I am super tired tonight and looking forward to reading and sleeping.

Be seated.

Men, all this stuff you hear about America not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the war, is a lot of bullshit. Americans love to fight. All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big-league ball players and the toughest boxers. Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time. That’s why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war. The very thought of losing is hateful to Americans. Battle is the most significant competition in which a man can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base.

You are not all going to die. Only two percent of you right here today would be killed in a major battle. Every man is scared in his first action. If he says he’s not, he’s a goddamn liar. But the real hero is the man who fights even though he’s scared. Some men will get over their fright in a minute under fire, some take an hour, and for some it takes days. But the real man never lets his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood.

All through your army career you men have bitched about what you call ‘this chicken-shit drilling.’ That is all for a purpose—to ensure instant obedience to orders and to create constant alertness. This must be bred into every soldier. I don’t give a fuck for a man who is not always on his toes. But the drilling has made veterans of all you men. You are ready! A man has to be alert all the time if he expects to keep on breathing. If not, some German son-of-a-bitch will sneak up behind him and beat him to death with a sock full of shit. There are four hundred neatly marked graves in Sicily, all because one man went to sleep on the job—but they are German graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before his officer did.

An army is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, and fights as a team. This individual hero stuff is bullshit. The bilious bastards who write that stuff for the Saturday Evening Post don’t know any more about real battle than they do about fucking. And we have the best team—we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity these poor bastards we’re going up against.

All the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters. Every single man in the army plays a vital role. So don’t ever let up. Don’t ever think that your job is unimportant. What if every truck driver decided that he didn’t like the whine of the shells and turned yellow and jumped headlong into a ditch? That cowardly bastard could say to himself, 'Hell, they won’t miss me, just one man in thousands.’ What if every man said that? Where in the hell would we be then? No, thank God, Americans don’t say that. Every man does his job. Every man is important. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns, the quartermaster is needed to bring up the food and clothes for us because where we are going there isn’t a hell of a lot to steal. Every last damn man in the mess hall, even the one who boils the water to keep us from getting the GI shits, has a job to do.

Each man must think not only of himself, but think of his buddy fighting alongside him. We don’t want yellow cowards in the army. They should be killed off like flies. If not, they will go back home after the war, goddamn cowards, and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the goddamn cowards and we’ll have a nation of brave men.

One of the bravest men I saw in the African campaign was on a telegraph pole in the midst of furious fire while we were moving toward Tunis. I stopped and asked him what the hell he was doing up there. He answered, 'Fixing the wire, sir.’ 'Isn’t it a little unhealthy up there right now?’ I asked. 'Yes sir, but this goddamn wire has got to be fixed.’ I asked, 'Don’t those planes strafing the road bother you?’ And he answered, 'No sir, but you sure as hell do.’ Now, there was a real soldier. A real man. A man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how great the odds, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty appeared at the time.

And you should have seen the trucks on the road to Gabès. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they crawled along those son-of-a-bitch roads, never stopping, never deviating from their course with shells bursting all around them. Many of the men drove over 40 consecutive hours. We got through on good old American guts. These were not combat men. But they were soldiers with a job to do. They were part of a team. Without them the fight would have been lost.

Sure, we all want to go home. We want to get this war over with. But you can’t win a war lying down. The quickest way to get it over with is to get the bastards who started it. We want to get the hell over there and clean the goddamn thing up, and then get at those purple-pissing Japs. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we go home. The shortest way home is through Berlin and Tokyo. So keep moving. And when we get to Berlin, I am personally going to shoot that paper-hanging son-of-a-bitch Hitler.

When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a Boche will get him eventually. The hell with that. My men don’t dig foxholes. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. We’ll win this war, but we’ll win it only by fighting and showing the Germans that we’ve got more guts than they have or ever will have. We’re not just going to shoot the bastards, we’re going to rip out their living goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We’re going to murder those lousy Hun cocksuckers by the bushel-fucking-basket.

Some of you men are wondering whether or not you’ll chicken out under fire. Don’t worry about it. I can assure you that you’ll all do your duty. War is a bloody business, a killing business. The Nazis are the enemy. Wade into them, spill their blood or they will spill yours. Shoot them in the guts. Rip open their belly. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt from your face and you realize that it’s not dirt, it’s the blood and gut of what was once your best friend, you’ll know what to do.

I don’t want any messages saying 'I’m holding my position.’ We’re not holding a goddamned thing. We’re advancing constantly and we’re not interested in holding anything except the enemy’s balls. We’re going to hold him by his balls and we’re going to kick him in the ass; twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all the time. Our plan of operation is to advance and keep on advancing. We’re going to go through the enemy like shit through a tinhorn.

There will be some complaints that we’re pushing our people too hard. I don’t give a damn about such complaints. I believe that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder we push, the more Germans we kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing harder means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that. My men don’t surrender. I don’t want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he is hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight. That’s not just bullshit either. I want men like the lieutenant in Libya who, with a Luger against his chest, swept aside the gun with his hand, jerked his helmet off with the other and busted the hell out of the Boche with the helmet. Then he picked up the gun and he killed another German. All this time the man had a bullet through his lung. That’s a man for you!

Don’t forget, you don’t know I’m here at all. No word of that fact is to be mentioned in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell they did with me. I’m not supposed to be commanding this army. I’m not even supposed to be in England. Let the first bastards to find out be the goddamned Germans. Some day, I want them to rise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl 'Ach! It’s the goddamned Third Army and that son-of-a-bitch Patton again!’

Then there’s one thing you men will be able to say when this war is over and you get back home. Thirty years from now when you’re sitting by your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks, 'What did you do in the great World War Two?’ You won’t have to cough and say, 'Well, your granddaddy shoveled shit in Louisiana.’ No sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say 'Son, your granddaddy rode with the great Third Army and a son-of-a-goddamned-bitch named George Patton!’

All right, you sons of bitches. You know how I feel. I’ll be proud to lead you wonderful guys in battle anytime, anywhere. That’s all.

—  This speech was given so many times by General George S. Patton that it’s simply known as “Patton’s Speech”.

10 well-explained TRAITS of ASPERGERS SYNDROME (HIGH FUNCTIONING AUTISM) from an article i read:

1) We are deep philosophical thinkers and writers; gifted in the sense of our level of thinking. Perhaps poets, professors, authors, or avid readers of nonfictional genre. I don’t believe you can have Aspergers without being highly-intelligent by mainstream standards. Perhaps that is part of the issue at hand, the extreme intelligence leading to an over-active mind and high anxiety. We see things at multiple levels, including our own place in the world and our own thinking processes. We analyze our existence, the meaning of life, the meaning of everything continually. We are serious and matter-of-fact. Nothing is taken for granted, simplified, or easy. Everything is complex.

2) We are innocent, naive, and honest. Do we lie? Yes. Do we like to lie? No. Things that are hard for us to understand: manipulation, disloyalty, vindictive behavior, and retaliation. Are we easily fooled and conned, particularly before we grow wiser to the ways of the world? Absolutely, yes. Confusion, feeling misplaced, isolated, overwhelmed, and simply plopped down on the wrong universe, are all parts of the Aspie experience. Can we learn to adapt? Yes. Is it always hard to fit in at some level? Yes. Can we out grow our character traits? No.

3) We are escape artists. We know how to escape. It’s the way we survive this place. We escape through our fixations, obsessions, over-interest in a subject, our imaginings, and even made up reality. We escape and make sense of our world through mental processing, in spoken or written form. We escape in the rhythm of words. We escape in our philosophizing.  As children, we had pretend friends or animals, maybe witches or spirit friends, even extraterrestrial buddies. We escaped in our play, imitating what we’d seen on television or in walking life, taking on the role of a teacher, actress in a play, movie star. If we had friends, we were either their instructor or boss, telling them what to do, where to stand, and how to talk, or we were the “baby,” blindly following our friends wherever they went. We saw friends as “pawn” like; similar to a chess game, we moved them into the best position for us. We escaped our own identity by taking on one friend’s identity. We dressed like her, spoke like her, adapted our own self to her (or his) likes and dislikes. We became masters at imitation, without recognizing what we were doing. We escaped through music. Through the repeated lyrics or rhythm of a song–through everything that song stirred in us. We escaped into fantasies, what could be, projections, dreams, and fairy-tale-endings. We obsessed over collecting objects, maybe stickers, mystical unicorns, or books. We may have escaped through a relationship with a lover. We delve into an alternate state of mind, so we could breathe, maybe momentarily taking on another dialect, personality, or view of the world. Numbers brought ease. Counting, categorizing, organizing, rearranging. At parties, if we went, we might have escaped into a closet, the outskirts, outdoors, or at the side of our best friend. We may have escaped through substance abuse, including food, or through hiding in our homes. What did it mean to relax? To rest? To play without structure or goal? Nothing was for fun, everything had to have purpose. When we resurfaced, we became confused. What had we missed? What had we left behind? What would we cling to next?

4) We have comorbid attributes of other syndromes/disorders/conditions. We often have OCD tendencies (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), sensory issues (with sight, sound, texture, smells, taste), generalized anxiety and/or a sense we are always unsafe or in pending danger, particularly in crowded public places. We may have been labeled with seemingly polar extremes: depressed/over-joyed, lazy/over-active, inconsiderate/over-sensitive, lacking awareness/attention to detail, low-focus/high-focus. We may have poor muscle tone, be double-jointed, and lack in our motor-skills. We may hold our pencil “incorrectly.” We may have eating disorders, food obsessions, and struggles with diet. We may have irritable bowel, Fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, and other immune-challenges. We may have sought out answers to why we seemed to see the world differently than others we knew, only to be told we were attention seekers, paranoid, hypochondriacs, or too focused on diagnoses and labels. Our personhood was challenged on the sole basis that we “knew” we were different but couldn’t prove it to the world and/or our personhood was oppressed as we attempted to be and act like someone we were not. We still question our place in the world, who we are, who we are expected to be, searching for the “rights” and “wrongs;” and then, as we grow and realize there are no true answers, that everything is theory-based and limited, we wonder where to search.

5) We learn that to fit in we have to “fake” it. Through trial and error we lost friends. We over-shared, spilling out intimate details to strangers; we raised our hand too much in class, or didn’t raise our hand at all; we had little impulse control with our speaking, monopolizing conversations and bringing the subject back to ourselves. We aren’t narcissistic and controlling–we know we are not, but we come across that way. We bring the subject back to ourselves because that is how we make sense of our world, that is how we believe we connect. We use our grasp of the world as our foundation, our way of making sense of another. We share our feelings and understandings in order to reach out. We don’t mean to sound ego-centered or over zealous. It’s all we know. We can’t change how we see the world. But we do change what we say. We hold a lot inside. A lot of what we see going on about us, a lot of what our bodies feel, what our minds conjecture. We hold so much inside, as we attempt to communicate correctly. We push back the conversational difficulties we experience, e.g., the concepts of acceptable and accurate eye contact, tone of voice, proximity of body, stance, posture–push it all back, and try to focus on what someone is saying with all the do’s and don’ts hammering in our mind. We come out of a conversation exhausted, questioning if we “acted” the socially acceptable way, wondering if we have offended, contradicted, hurt, or embarrassed others or ourselves. We learn that people aren’t as open or trusting as we are. That others hold back and filter their thoughts. We learn that our brains are different. We learn to survive means we must pretend.

6) We seek refuge at home or at a safe place. The days we know we don’t have to be anywhere, talk to anyone, answer any calls, or leave the house, are the days we take a deep breath and relax. If one person will be visiting, we perceive the visit as a threat; knowing logically the threat isn’t real, doesn’t relieve a drop of the anxiety. We have feelings of dread about even one event on the calendar. Even something as simple as a self-imposed obligation, such as leaving the house to walk the dog, can cause extreme anxiety. It’s more than going out into society; it’s all the steps that are involved in leaving–all the rules, routines, and norms. Choices can be overwhelming: what to wear, to shower or not, what to eat, what time to be back, how to organize time, how to act outside the house….all these thoughts can pop up. Sensory processing can go into overload; the shirt might be scratchy, the bra pokey, the shoes too tight. Even the steps to getting ready can seem boggled with choices–should I brush my teeth or shower first, should I finish that email, should I call her back now or when I return, should I go at all? Maybe staying home feels better, but by adulthood we know it is socially “healthier” to get out of the house, to interact, to take in fresh air, to exercise, to share. But going out doesn’t feel healthy to us, because it doesn’t feel safe. For those of us that have tried CBT (Cognitive Behavior Therapy), we try to tell ourselves all the “right” words, to convince ourselves our thought patterns are simply wired incorrectly, to reassure ourself we are safe…the problem then becomes this other layer of rules we should apply, that of the cognitive-behavior set of rules. So even the supposed therapeutic self-talk becomes yet another set of hoops to jump through before stepping foot out of the house. To curl up on the couch with a clean pet, a cotton blanket, a warm cup of tea, and a movie or good book may become our refuge. At least for the moment, we can stop the thoughts associated with having to make decisions and having to face the world. A simple task has simple rules.

7) We are sensitive. We are sensitive when we sleep, maybe needing a certain mattress, pillow, and earplugs, and particularly comfortable clothing. Some need long-sleaves, some short. Temperature needs to be just so. No air blowing from the heater vent, no traffic noise, no noise period. We are sensitive even in our dream state, perhaps having intense and colorful dreams, anxiety-ridden dreams, or maybe precognitive dreams. Our sensitivity might expand to being highly-intuitive of others’ feelings, which is a paradox, considering the limitations of our social communication skills. We seek out information in written or verbally spoken form, sometimes over-thinking something someone said and reliving the ways we ought to have responded. We take criticism to heart, not necessarily longing for perfection, but for the opportunity to be understood and accepted. It seems we have inferiority complexes, but with careful analysis, we don’t feel inferior, but rather unseen, unheard, and misunderstood. Definitely misunderstood. At one point or another, we question if in fact we are genetic hybrids, mutations, aliens, or  displaced spirits–as we simply feel like we’ve landed on the wrong planet. We are highly susceptible to outsiders’ view points and opinions. If someone tells us this or that, we may adapt our view of life to this or that, continually in search of the “right” and “correct” way. We may jump from one religious realm to another, in search of the “right” path or may run away from aspects of religion because of all the questions that arise in theorizing. As we grow older, we understand more of how our minds work, which makes living sometimes even more difficult; because now we can step outside ourselves and see what we are doing, know how we our feeling, yet still recognize our limitations.  We work hard and produce a lot in a small amount of time. When others question our works, we may become hurt, as our work we perceive as an extension of ourselves. Isn’t everything an extension of ourselves–at least our perception and illusion of reality? Sometimes we stop sharing our work in hopes of avoiding opinions, criticism, and judgment. We dislike words and events that hurt others and hurt animals. We may have collected insects, saved a fallen bird, or rescued pets. We have a huge compassion for suffering, as we have experienced deep levels of suffering. We are very sensitive to substances, such as foods, caffeine, alcohol, medications, environmental toxins, and perfumes; a little amount of one substance can have extreme effects on our emotional and/or physical state.

8) We are ourselves and we aren’t ourselves. Between imitating others and copying the ways of the world, and trying to be honest, and having no choice but to be “real,” we find ourselves trapped between pretending to be normal and showing all our cards. It’s a difficult state. Sometimes we don’t realize when we are imitating someone else or taking on their interests, or when we are suppressing our true wishes in order to avoid ridicule. We have an odd sense of self. We know we are an individual with unique traits and attributes, with uniques feelings, desires, passions, goals, and interests, but at the same time we recognize we so desperately want to fit in that we might have adapted or conformed many aspects about ourselves. Some of us might reject societal norms and expectations all together, embracing their oddities and individuality, only to find themselves extremely isolated. There is an in between place where an aspie girl can be herself and fit in, but finding that place and staying in that place takes a lot of work and processing. Some of us have a hard time recognizing facial features and memorize people by their clothes, tone of voice and hairstyle. Some of us have a hard time understanding what we physically look like. We might switch our preference in hairstyles, clothes, interests, and hobbies frequently, as we attempt to manage to keep up with our changing sense of self and our place. We can gain the ability to love ourselves, accept ourselves, and be happy with our lives, but this usually takes much inner-work and self-analysis. Part of self-acceptance comes with the recognition that everyone is unique, everyone has challenges, and everyone is struggling to find this invented norm. When we recognize there are no rules, and no guide map to life, we may be able to breathe easier, and finally explore what makes us happy.

9) Feelings and other people’s actions are confusing. Others’ feelings and our own feelings are confusing to the extent there are no set rules to feelings. We think logically, and even though we are (despite what others think) sensitive, compassionate, intuitive, and understanding, many emotions remain illogical and unpredictable. We may expect that by acting a certain way we can achieve a certain result, but in dealing with emotions, we find the intended results don’t manifest. We speak frankly and literally. In our youth, jokes go over our heads; we are the last to laugh, if we laugh at all, and sometimes ourselves the subject of the joke. We are confused when others make fun of us, ostracize us, decide they don’t want to be our friend, shun us, belittle us, trick us, and especially betray us. We may have trouble identifying feelings unless they are extremes. We might have trouble with the emotion of hate and dislike. We may hold grudges and feel pain from a situation years later, but at the same time find it easier to forgive than hold a grudge. We might feel sorry for someone who has persecuted or hurt us. Personal feelings of anger, outrage, deep love, fear, giddiness, and anticipation seem to be easier to identify than emotions of joy, satisfaction, calmness, and serenity. Sometimes situations, conversations, or events are perceived as black or white, one way or another, and the middle spectrum is overlooked or misunderstood. A small fight might signal the end of a relationship and collapse of one’s world, where a small compliment might boost us into a state of bliss.

10) We have difficulty with executive functioning. The way we process the world is different. Tasks that others take for granted, can cause us extreme hardship. Learning to drive a car, to tuck in the sheets of a bed, to even round the corner of a hallway, can be troublesome. Our spacial awareness and depth-awareness seems off. Some will never drive on a freeway, never parallel park, and/or never drive. Others will panic following directions while driving. New places offer their own set of challenges. Elevators, turning on and off faucets, unlocking doors, finding our car in a parking lot, (even our keys in our purse), and managing computers, electronic devices, or anything that requires a reasonable amount of steps, dexterity, or know-how can rouse in us a sense of panic. While we might be grand organizers, as organizing brings us a sense of comfort, the thought of repairing, fixing, or locating something causes distress. Doing the bills, cleaning the house, sorting through school papers, scheduling appointments, keeping track of times on the calendar, and preparing for a party can cause anxiety. Tasks may be avoided. Cleaning may seem insurmountable. Where to begin? How long should I do something? Is this the right way? Are all questions that might come to mind. Sometimes we step outside of ourselves and imagine a stranger entering our home, and question what they would do if they were in our shoes. We reach out to others’ rules of what is right, even in isolation, even to do the simplest of things. Sometimes we reorganize in an attempt to make things right or to make things easier. Only life doesn’t seem to get easier. Some of us are affected in the way we calculate numbers or in reading. We may have dyslexia or other learning disabilities. We may solve problems and sort out situations much differently than most others. We like to categorize in our mind and find patterns, and when ideas don’t fit, we don’t know where to put them. Putting on shoes, zipping or buttoning clothes, carrying or packing groceries, all of these actions can pose trouble. We might leave the house with mismatched socks, our shirt buttoned incorrectly, and our sweater inside out. We find the simple act of going grocery shopping hard: getting dressed, making a list, leaving the house, driving to the store, and choosing objects on the shelves is overwhelming.

— 

*the above article nearly describes my struggles perfectly… im not clumsy, but all else is spot on. though i rarely mention it, i was diagnosed with aspergers syndrome about 13 years ago… a beautiful curse, of sorts.

–me ॐ

Buffalo Bleu Cheese flavored popcorn from the popcorn cart outside of Epcot’s Journey into Imagination.