#Angry Mule Productions

[clairehadenough]

Friends, pull up a chair and get out the popcorn! Have I got an update for YOU! Ready? Alba is a drug mule and Chris (maybe) partakes. There is this poster who has appointed herself defender of the Chris fandom and the source of all the little tips and ways the PR has deceived us. We'll call her Def. Tirelessly, day after day, she hammers away at the false narrative while enduring hostility from all sides, including Chris' own people. But for all that she's angry at the narrative, and at Chris, she absolutely, rabidly, HATES Alba with the fury of a million exploding galaxies. Apparently, Regina is too nice to her or something, but Def, Def is firm in her resolve. No kindness shall be offered, no mercy shall be found in HER court of Chris law. Alba is guilty. Guilty on all counts. What counts? Shut up, she's guilty. Now, there is a woman named Megan, who I guess is Chris' agent/manager and apparently, the architect of his misery. She also has a side hustle as a dealer. This is why Alba is all over the place these days. She's not filming and doing PR, she's being paid by Megan to move product. This is also in violation of her Green Card, by the way. Which is normally a Regina thing, but Def of course knows what's up. She knows, yo. She knows. Also, the drugs are likely how and why Chris gets it on with Alba. He's being forced too, you know. Because sleeping with Alba Baptista is just so hard otherwise.

Giggity. - Tag Walker

[rickv-786]

"Complicated"

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The rain hadn’t let up all night, washing the blood and gunpowder off the streets like the city was trying to forget. Vice stood outside, under the flicker of a broken pink sign, smoke curling from his lips, watching reflections twist in puddles like bad memories. His pager buzzed—code 77.

That meant her. Elena Morales. Civil rights lawyer. Sharp as broken glass, and twice as dangerous to hold onto. They had collided once, hard and fast, in a motel on 12th and Ocean during one of Vice's "cleaner" stretches—before the cocaine shipments got so big he stopped pretending he was just moving product to survive. Now she was calling in a favor. Said the Feds were about to sting a drop Vice had arranged through Little Haiti—only, one of her clients, a kid named Luis, was the mule and didn’t know what he was carrying. Elena begged him to pull the plug. “You can reroute it. You’ve done worse for less,” She said, voice low, angry, intimate. He could have.

He didn’t. The deal went ahead. The sting hit hard. The kid went down, and he lost a quarter-mil in product. Cost of doing business. Next morning, under the club’s door: a napkin. Same cheap paper from the greasy diner where they used to meet, scrawled in her handwriting: “You win again, Rick. Hope it feels like money well spent.” It didn't.

[blubushie]

i dont think anyone has laid out exactly what irks me about vegans so successfully

they really are bleeding hearts- i recently got told off for enslaving animals because I have chickens, something I know for a fact they had to go digging for because I sure didn't mention that in the conversation. I'm not even a proper farmer, I don't turn a profit off of my chickens, they're really just pets that come with the bonus of eggs and learning the circle of life at an early age. It just seems to me that the loud angry vegan crowd can't tell the difference between genuinely horrifying and unethical factory farms vs. any group of humans who happen to farm free range animals.

I also believe it stems from the fact that as a society there's an unwillingness to accept that humans are animals and not some great overlooking gods in comparison to animals.

Yeah and the amount of vegans I've seen claim we don't give a fuck about our stock is insane! You know how much a SINGLE bullock is worth? Fuck me! We do everything we can for them not just because THEY ARE LIVING CASH but also because we DO genuinely like our stock! We like being with them!

"Waaaah Australian sheep farmers mules their sheep" yeah we do it so they don't fucken DIE of flystrike! But none of these cunts know what flystrike is cuz they don't actually know anything about fucking agriculture. Ough.

Free-range farming for cattle especially is stupid to argue against since we USED to have bison in the US until they were almost driven to extinction to kill off the Natives. SOMETHING has to continue that economic niche and until bison populations return to what they were pre-genocide, cattle should fill that void. And they do.

Same thing with Australia—we graze cattle on open land, not keep them cooped up in factories. I think too many people confuse factory farms as beef when in reality they're dairy, and most are pretty good. BAD factory farms (see: unethical conditions) are usually poultry (chickens, turkey, quail) fowl (duck, geese) and pigs. I've genuinely never seen pigs in a commercial production that had proper space or range to do pig things.

But that's easily remedied—if you're in the US, buy a rifle and hunt the pigs yourself, because feral pigs are fucking everywhere and ruining the ecosystem. That or buy your pork from your local non-factory farm. If enough people do it, the factories will start shutting down. If you're in Australia, get a hunting and firearms licence and do the same, or if you don't wanna bother with that, buy your meat locally or tip your local pig shooter and maybe he'll give you some meat as a gift (legally we can't sell feral pig meat).

All of these are easily solved by just buying local, doing the hunting yourself, or advocating for better conditions for commercial animals. Not convincing people to go vegan, because for most of the world who isn't a privileged little shit living in a big city on daddy's money, veganism is entirely unsustainable and unaffordable.

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday - Aristeia (working title)

Tagged by @dirty-bosmer thank you thank you

tagging: @thana-topsy, @expended-sleeper, @tallmatcha @gilgamish @nientedenada

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: T (blood and violence) Category: gen Genre(s): Adventure, Homer retelling Main characters: Borgakh the Steel Heart, the orcs of Mor Khazgur

Summary: When the chief of Mor Khazgur goes missing, male orcs from across the Reach show up to vie for the stronghold, causing chaos and disruption in their corner of Skyrim. The wives of Mor Khazgur must figure out how to deal with them while they wait for their chief's return.

I blame @thana-topsy for the Pavo Attius/Gat gro-Shargakh brainworms. Everyone go read Finding Mara and join me in the worm bin.

This is a pretty extended snippet, because the chapter's almost dooooooone~!

3rd First Seed, 4E 195 Borgakh did not need familiar landmarks to tell her they were getting close to the stronghold. She could smell it.

The daylight was waning as the mountains of the western Reach swallowed up the sun, casting long blue shadows over the land. Olur had spotted a clean spring for Borgakh to wash up, and there had been an untouched patch of wild winter radishes growing in the clay. They had picked all that they could fit in their packs and on Karagh’s saddlebags - all in all, a much more productive expedition than either of them had had for many months.

They crested the final hillock; Mor Khazgur dominated the shallow valley below. When she had been younger, Borgakh had often imagined the longhouse was a lazy cat asleep on a bright green rug, curled up against the rocks of the Druadach Mountains. When the stronghold’s goats were pastured in the glade, they played the role of mice scurrying about under the cat’s nose.

Now, there was no bright green rug, or herd of goats browsing the first buds of spring; the ground in front Mor Khazgur was a frozen mud pit.

Tents with various clan symbols painted on their roofs and sides crowded around the stronghold stockade with not even a semblance of order. The orc men who had arrived first had set up their lodgings without care for the foot paths, winter forage, or even well-tended herb beds outside of the walls. Later arrivals followed suit, until every bit of grass and brush had been ground into the dirt.

Then the thawing rains came and the winter snow had melted, and turned the broken mess into a mire.

Borgakh could hear shouting from the central bonfire of the camp, the one thing the orc men seemed to be able to work together to maintain. The stumps of the trees used to feed it stuck up from the ground where thick copses used to be.

“We should go around the side to the gate,” she said.

Olur continued to lead Kharagh down the slope to the main entrance of Mor Khazgur. “We meet our fates head-on, like Malacath commands, Borgakh. I for one won’t slink in like a thief to my own stronghold.”

Borgakh sighed, her stomach starting to knot. Coming home to Mor Khazgur used to be a source of comfort, a safe refuge from the harsh environment of the Reach.

Father used to be here.

Now every time she approached she had to run a gauntlet. Kharagh snorted at the mud, picking his feet up high with each step.

I don’t like it either, old friend, she thought and reached out to pat his neck. We’ll be through it soon.

Olur pulled up sharply, peering down into the crowd below. Borgakh followed his gaze, and saw what had caught his attention.

An orc leading a spotted mule and a human man were at the gate to Mor Khazgur.. They were surrounded by angry orc men. Borgakh could see some reaching for weapons.

“Pit, that’s Pavo and Gat-” Olur said before breaking into a ground covering jog, throwing Karagh’s lead at Borgakh. Borgakh swore and followed him, pulling a protesting Karagh behind her and loosening her knife in its sheath as she did so.

The mud was slippery and it was difficult going; Olur quickly outpaced her, breaking a trail through both the muck and the crowd. As he reached the knot at the gate, the shouting crescendoed and one of the orcs struck the human across the face, knocking him into the logs of the palisade.

The orc leading the mule was on the one who had struck the blow in an instant, his larger mass bearing the other to the ground with a thud that Borgakh felt through her boots. Olur had reached the man, and hauled him to his feet just in time as the orc men formed a circle around the grappling pair, stomping their feet and yelling encouragement and insults.

The orc that had assaulted the man was one of the newer arrivals; Borgakh did not know his name. It would probably not matter in a few minutes, not with the way Gat was driving his fist into his face.

Despite the blows he was taking from Gat, the other orc managed to get his axe free from his belt and swung it at Gat’s head. Gat intercepted the blow, and with a practiced twist jerked it out of the other orc’s hand and flung it away. Several of the onlookers were forced to jump out of the way as the axe flew by at eye-level.

Borgakh pushed her way to Olur and Pavo. Pavo’s brow was split and bleeding. The mule let out an anxious bray as the crowd grew wilder, adding to the din.

“We just came to trade-” Pavo was saying, swaying on his feet despite bracing himself on Olur’s arm.

“Can you get him inside?” Olur asked, transferring Pavo’s grip from his arm to Borgakh’s shoulder.

Borgakh, who had just grabbed the mule’s lead to prevent it from bolting, looked at him in annoyance. “How many hands do you think I-”

“Stop this at once!”

The authoritative voice cut through the noise and chaos, and in a few moments silence had descended on the crowd.

Gat landed another blow before standing, and turned to the stronghold.

Sharamph, Wise Woman of the stronghold, stood on one of the scaffolds that lined the inside of the stronghold defenses. She surveyed the assembled mass of orc men with a sneer.

“The wives of Mor Khazgur are still in seclusion. Fighting over the Chieftainship before it has ended is an affront to them and the Code!”

“I apologize for the disturbance, Wise-Woman,” said Gat, ignoring the other orc who was just now staggering to his feet. “I have no desire to fight for the leadership of Mor Khazgur, merely to extract the Blood-Price from the one who insulted my blood-kin.”

“And are you satisfied?” Sharamph asked.

Gat now looked over at the orc he had bested. Blood was oozing from his nose, and smeared around his mouth. Borgakh guessed he would wear the bruises of his defeat for a fortnight at least.

Gat looked over to where Pavo was leaning against Borgakh, holding a hand to his head. “Yes, I am satisfied.”

“If they aren’t competing for the right to be chief, then send them away! They have no business here.” Ansug gro-Yufethz, one of the first to arrive and declare his intention to fight for the right to be Chieftain of Mor Khazgur, stepped forward, and addressed Sharamph. “If you allow unrelated orc men in your stronghold during seclusion, then what meaning does that word have?”

“He is not an orc, and he has come to trade,” said Sharamph, indicating Pavo. “We need supplies after the winter, and the miners of Kolskeggr have always trusted our smithy for their tools. If you deny him entry you are only weakening the stronghold you wish to lead.”

Ansug narrowed his eyes and glared at Pavo, but after a moment relented. Borgakh was relieved - he was the largest and most influential among the candidates for Chief, and if he agreed, the others were likely to do so as well.

“Very well. The Imperial can enter for trade. But the orc must stay outside!”

Sharamph nodded once and disappeared behind the pointed timbers of the stronghold wall.

“Gat, I don’t like this-” Pavo said as Gat returned to his side.

“I’ll be fine,” Gat said, quickly removing a pack and a bedroll from the mule’s back. “I’ve slept in rougher places than this, you know that. I’ve got rations and our tent, and there’s no elves slinging firebolts at us. What more could I want?”

“But-”

“Olur, I think Juniper lost a few nails from her near-hind shoe in the mud.” Gat interrupted Pavo. “Will you be able to take a look while Pavo trades with Shuftharz?”

“Of course. Take him inside, Borgakh.”

The heavy gate swung open as Borgakh clicked to Karagh and Juniper. Pavo was standing on his own now, and Gat put a hand on his arm and bent down to whisper something in his ear. Pavo nodded and Gat gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder before hefting his pack and bedroll and disappearing into the crowd.

As she passed through the threshold of the gate, Borgakh felt tension she had not realized she was carrying leaving her neck and shoulders.

“Ghamorz, get the packs from the mule and bring them inside,” Sharamph said to the orc that closed the gate behind them.

“Do you really think Gat will be alright out there?” Pavo was already turning around and was staring at the closed gate. He opened his mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by Sharamph gripping his chin and turning his head in order to cast an experienced eye on the cut over his brow.

“This will need cleaning,” she said. “Come with me.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I should really see to Juniper first-”

“Borgakh will see to your animal. Your goods will be safe in the longhouse, but your blood is still flowing; much more and Gat will be compelled to extract more from that idiot to make up the difference.”

[superectojazzmage]

Moore isn’t some emotionally brain dead idiot. Rorschach is and was always meant to be sympathetic and even understandable. But he’s also meant to be a tragic figure part of that. And frankly I feel that some posts like this end up not only missing that but also willfully ignoring Rorschach’s massive flaws (like his casual bigotry or the way he leeches off his only friend or how he basically lives like a deranged hobo in the name of his “crusade” or so on).

The various superhero characters in Watchmen are superhero archetypes taken to their logical if twisted extreme. Dr. Manhattan is a figure akin to Superman or Captain Atom but is so far beyond normal humans that he’s lost touch with them and let his disconnect from them warp into fatalism and apathy. Ozymandias is various “super smart” heroes like Mr. Fantastic or such but exaggerated into an arrogant control freak who justifies even the most heinous of acts with his smartness and prattle about the greater good. Comedian is gun-totting antiheroes and war comic protagonists twisted into a total nutcase who commits war crimes with a smile. Nite Owl is a Batman-like figure who quit out of disillusionment over the fact that he was using crazy high tech gadgets and such to fight normal street thugs. Silk Spectre is the “token girl hero” as a product and victim of misogyny, stewing in anger over how she’s seen and treated as just that - the token woman - by many around her and how her emotional needs aren’t met by even the men who claim to love her.

Fitting with this, Rorschach takes various detective superhero roles - particularly those used by Steve Ditko in his objectivist power fantasy comics that dominated his bibliography after he left Marvel and thus no longer had collaborators like Stan Lee to rein him in - exaggerated into a caricature. A guy who has basically replaced his entire personality with angry objectivist nihilism and beating the shit out of anyone he even THINKS is a criminal, his main method of “investigating” being storming into the local bars and torturing whoever catches his eye as a “lowlife” for information. He has no real life or social group outside of Nite Owl, the various criminals he maims or kills every night, and the civilians he thoughtlessly terrorizes in his attempts to help them. He’s constantly blinded from the truth by being able to only think in bitter nostalgic grousing about the days of American exceptionalism that existed only in his increasingly addled mind. He lives and thinks like a drug addict despite not being one simply because he’s that obsessed with venting his anger at the world on the deserving, and he spews casual sexism and homophobia simply because he refuses to deal with any of the bad shit he experienced in his upbringing or to unlearn the bad coping mechanisms he was taught. He’s a wreck of a human being, even if he ultimately means well and genuinely does want to help people.

And in the end, it dooms him. He can’t compromise - or even LIE about compromising - to literally save his life, and part of the ambiguity of the ending comes from the fact that, of all the newspapers he could’ve sent his journal full of evidence to, he sends it to a far-right tabloid trash can of a paper that just happens to flatter his dumbass objectivist views. One that doesn’t even bother to read said journal at first, instead just dumping it into their crank file because the first lines are him describing a dead dog. Moore has even noted that his original script had Rorschach live, but he quickly realized that there was no way Rorschach could walk out of a situation like the climax alive, simply because he’s too much of a stubborn mule to even consider being wrong about anything, let alone to bend the rigid code he lives his life by in the desperate hope of keeping his sanity.

Moore’s confusion with Rorschach has always been less that he doesn’t understand people liking him and more not getting how anyone could miss these massive issues that plague the character and think he’s something to aspire to, rather than something you feel pity for in the same way you feel sadness and empathy for a homeless man in the street.

Which, funnily enough, would years later become a major theme of the excellent Tom King Rorschach comic (pretty much the only good Watchmen follow-up) which explores the tendency of people to glamorize and whitewash Rorschach by telling a story about a cult obsessed with following his example to the point of believing they’re being possessed by and directed by his angry spirit… and creepily enough, might just be right.

[talknerdy2mepodcast-blog]

ON this episode of Nerds on Cinema we sit down with Stephen Tramontana writer and film director over with @AngryMuleProd Today Myself, Jen and Jay(the man with 100 voices) sit down to talk making movies, port-a-johns, and pinatas that find themselves in murderous 3 ways.

[banditthewriter]

Dirty Work - Billy Russo - 10

Here we have it, the end! Thanks for coming along with me on this ride as I got back into writing and posting on here. I really appreciate everything guys!

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

Things were bad enough, but work had gotten worse. The files had piled up with everything that had happened with Miller and Billy. You decided to buckle down and remove any distractions. This was life after the threat—life after Billy—and you needed to focus on what was important.

Focusing on work wasn’t difficult. You were in the office more than at home for the first week after everything was cleared up. By the second week, it felt a little more like normal. 

You thought about calling your mom, but the unintelligible voicemails she left you told you she hadn’t stopped drinking any time recently and you didn’t feel like talking to her when she was like that. And the friends that you tried to pick back up with all had the same question.

Where was Billy?

It got to the point where you felt like you’d explained it a hundred times. You and Billy had broken up; you were headed in different directions, you were fine, no you didn’t want to go out to the clubs. 

And they all had the same thing to say at the end of the conversation. They all said that it was his loss. You smiled and thanked them, changed the subject without fail. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that it was definitely not his loss.

Weeks turned to a month. One month since everything was settled, weeks in between. It hurt to remember just how good things had been before the end had come. With his box of belongings taped up and placed in the back of your closet, your most fervent reminder of your relationship with Billy was the slightly raised scar low on your chest.

Throwing yourself into work might not have been the healthiest way to face everything, but it had the benefit of making your boss very happy with your progress. He’d even mentioned that he hadn’t seen you so low since your brother had passed but that he was glad you were getting back on track.

The irony of it all wasn’t lost on you.

------

“Do you think maybe you should reach out to him?” 

David didn’t have to specify who he meant by that. He was watching you curiously over the table, steam rising from his coffee between his hands. The only reason you had agreed to get breakfast with him was you were certain he wouldn’t bring up Billy.

Apparently you shouldn’t have been so certain. 

“Why would I do that?” You pushed your eggs around on your plate, your appetite in the middle of leaving the room. “He definitely doesn’t want to hear from me.”

“What makes you say that?”

You sighed and pushed your plate away from you. Instead you grabbed your drink and took a short sip to try to fortify yourself before you said the words.

“Because that’s what the deal was. He said he’d help me with Miller and then we’d never have to see each other again. He held up his part so now I’m holding up my end of the deal. He doesn’t care about me that way anymore.”

It didn’t hurt like you thought it would. You missed Billy, of course, but you had accepted the situation for what it was. What you and Billy had before? It was amazing and you’d never forget it. But this? This was the way it was now.

“I’m calling bullshit,” he said as he met your eyes, shaking his head a little. “You didn’t hear him when he called me Y/N. He was desperate to find out where Miller was. He was so sure that you were going to get yourself killed.”

It had crossed your mind that that was a possibility, but you just wanted it to end. You didn’t have a death wish, but it was like when Billy had pointed the gun at you. You had accepted responsibility for what had happened and you were ready for the consequences. 

You would have done your best to bring Miller with you though.

That didn’t explain David’s claim that Billy had been desperate to find Miller though. Unless Billy just didn’t want your death on his conscience. You opened your mouth to mention as much, but David slapped his hand against the table.

“Don’t, Y/N, don’t brush that off. He knew you were saying goodbye and he was worried. I didn’t know a guy like Russo had it in his DNA, but he was worried about you.”

You rotated your drink in your hands as you thought that over. Maybe Billy had been worried, but you remembered what he had said in your office. It was about the relationship the two of you once had. 

Instead of saying that to David, because he was stubborn as a mule, you simply smiled and gave him a quick nod.

“I’ll think about it.”

He probably knew you were just saying it to appease him, but his shoulders lowered from where they had been almost next to his ears. He had done his part at least.

------

There was nothing on television tonight, but you stayed curled up on the couch much longer than you normally would. It was the weekend so you didn’t need to be up early the next morning. No, you could stay awake and keep the dreams at bay. 

It wasn’t all nightmares of gunshots and a knife pressed to your throat, although there were plenty of those. You also had more than one dream of happier times with Billy. Those hurt worse than the dreams were you were being killed.

While you stared at the television, zoning out as the guy in the infomercial explained how a product was used, you almost missed the knock at the door. When it came again, you jerked out of your thoughts and turned to look at the door. 

It was late, nearly eleven. You doubted it was David because he would call first. With everything that had happened, you grabbed the gun you had been keeping nearby and crept over to the door. As quietly as possible, you leaned in to look through the peephole. 

The sight on the other side made you gasp. Slowly you unlocked the door and pulled it open. 

“Billy? What are you doing here?”

He shifted his weight but didn’t push his way in. You would almost go as far as saying that he looked uncertain.

“Needed to talk to you. Can I come in?”

You hesitated before you pulled the door open a bit more for him. He clocked the gun in your hand but didn’t say anything. After shutting and locking the door, you turned to face Billy, the gun placed on the table nearby. As many times as he had been to your place, you had to admit that he looked a little out of place. It wasn’t so much him as the uncertainty on his face.

You couldn’t really remember a time when he hadn’t been confident and in control. Except that day on the docks.

“You said you needed to talk to me?”

Why didn’t you want to speed this up? Except possibly because the longer he was in your presence, the harder it was when he turned and walked away.

“I keep thinking about that day you came to Anvil, when David found Miller.” They day you said goodbye, he didn’t say, but you could hear the words. Billy rolled his shoulders as he met your eyes, his voice getting lower as he asked, “You gave that whole speech, remember?”

“I remember,” you said softly, trying not to shift under his scrutiny.

“The thing is, that didn’t feel like all you wanted to say to me. And I was wondering what it was that you left unsaid.”

The sound of your blood rushing through your ears almost made you deaf to his words. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that surely he could hear it for himself. 

The thing you left unsaid was the sentiment he had told you not to share the day at the docks. But telling Billy that you loved him wasn’t an option, not anymore.

“Billy,” you pleaded as you stepped backwards, your back resting gently against the door, “we don’t need to go through this.”

His shoulders straightened up, his chin raising an inch. There it was, that confidence that you had almost missed. He took a few steps forward until he was close enough for you to imagine and quickly dismiss the idea of touching him.

“I need to know what you were going to say. It’s important,” he offered as he stepped closer once more, his hand coming out almost as if he wanted to touch you. “Just tell me Y/N. What were you going to say?”

You didn’t want to say it because it wouldn’t matter, not now, but you couldn’t deny Billy. You never could.

“That I loved you,” you offered quietly as you closed your eyes, dropping your chin to your chest to avoid his gaze. “I was going to tell you that I was in love with you and that I was sorry.”

There was a rush of air as Billy stepped away. You weren’t sure what else he could have expected you to say, what other thing you would be holding in. When you peeked up at him, you saw that he had only gone back a few steps.

“When you met me on the docks, I honestly thought that you were going to tell me that there was someone else. You had been pulling away and it was the first thing that had come to mind. I was ready for you to tell me that there was someone else. I was ready to fight for you.”

And instead you told him that you were the reason someone was trying to kill him. You let out a self deprecating laugh and looked away from him.

“There’s never been anyone but you,” you said quietly, with more emotion than you could handle. “Instead I told you that I had hired a hitman to kill you.”

“And then you told me that you tried to stop it,” he reminded you.

You glanced back at him, unsure. He didn’t look angry. No, there was something there, but it wasn’t anger or betrayal. It was something else, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Billy,” you tried as you stepped forward, shaking your head, “you should leave. I’ve told you what you wanted to know. There’s nothing else anymore. We made a deal, remember? Never have to see me again.”

This couldn’t happen; he couldn’t come here just because he was lonely or nostalgic. It had been hard enough when he had fucked you against the wall, no emotion, just desperation and need. If you were subjected to that again, you would crumble. The thought of his hands on you without affection? Without the care he always had with you?

It would break your heart even more than it already was.

“I remember our deal,” he said as he closed the distance once more, “but here’s the thing. I don’t want to abide by that deal. I don’t want to never see you again. I’m done keeping my distance.”

You lifted your hands to press against his chest, keeping him just shy of arm’s length. You needed the space to breathe.

“You don’t mean this. You… you hate me, remember? I tried to have someone kill you.”

Billy covered your hands with his, keeping them pressed to his chest.

“I forgave you for that. Hell, you took a bullet and thought it was me that shot you. I was angry and petty, but I forgave you. I never hated you.”

Tears were falling from your eyes, swallowing convulsively as you tried to think of something to say. 

“You moved on.” At his confused look, you reminded him, “When we were working together to track Miller, you said you had plans one night. I figured you–”

“I met up with Curtis. There wasn’t anyone else for me, not then and not now. Not ever,” he added under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. “I know it’s complicated, but when haven’t we been complicated? I killed your brother, you tried to have me killed, you took a bullet for me. Let’s just call it even and move on.”

Even. It was like a dream, that the two of you could just move on. You were still unable to believe it, shaking your head as you cast around for another reason the two of you couldn’t be together. You wanted to save yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.

He whispered your name, his hand coming up to wipe the tears from your eyes. 

“I need you to believe me. This isn’t some spur of the moment idea and I’m not going to change my mind. I know what you did and I know who you are and I still want to be with you. And I think you want to be with me even though you know who I am.”

“Of course I do,” you said through your sniffles, more tears pouring down your cheeks, “because I love you. Having you back would be... But how can you just move on? How can you just forgive me?”

It was your last straw, your last chance to convince him that he hadn’t thought this through yet.

“Because I love you,” he said simply, confident and sure. 

You gasped as you met his eyes, almost unable to believe your own ears. How long had you longed to hear those words? 

He meant it. You could see it clear on his face. He loved you. He loved you.

He leaned in, slow and giving you enough time to stop him. When his lips touched yours, you released a flood of emotion. You tugged him closer, fingers curled into fists in his shirt as your mouths moved together. It felt like all of those broken pieces were starting to repair themselves with every kiss, with every whispered declaration of love and intent.

There was still a lot to repair, a lot the two of you needed to talk about, but you were done fighting it. This was where you were both meant to be and had been since the beginning. You knew that if he could forgive you, it might be time for you to start to forgive yourself as well.

It was going to be hard work, but with Billy at your side? You had no doubt that you could survive anything.

X

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[beiingalive]

* ⌞ʾ⁎ ⊰ adria arjona, cis female, she/her ⊱ i think i just saw ANITA MORENO walk across trafalgar square, singing to YO PERREO SOLA ( BAD BUNNY ). you know, the TWENTY-FIVE year old SEAMSTRESS? people claim that they are just like ANITA from WEST SIDE STORY. it must be because they are LOYAL and OUTSPOKEN as well… though i could be wrong. all i know for sure is that they live at PETERSBURG apartment.⌝

               ❝ how can i hear what goes on twelve feet above my head ? ❞

name: ana josefina del carmen moreno rivera. nicknames: anita, nita. age: 25. date of birth: may 6th, 1995. hometown: san juan, puerto rico. current location: london, england. apartment: petersburg. occupation: seamstress.

pinterest: xx. playlist: xx.

→ 𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪.

[ tw: sexual assault ]

✂ anita was born in san juan, puerto rico, to arturo moreno and dolores rivera. they lived in santurce, near the theatre district — this was convenient, as dolores was a seamstress who was often tasked with making the costumes for local productions, and arturo was a carpenter who dreamed of being a painter — the perfect combination to work in scenic design. they had a nice little home that had just enough space for their growing family ; after anita, they had three more kids — guillermo, esteban, and luis.

✂ being the oldest, anita always knew it was her job to help out around the house. she often took care of her brothers, making sure they were well fed, clean, and out of danger. she would walk them home from school, make them hold hands and look both sides before crossing the street. she would help them with their homework before doing her own. she practically raised those boys — and still checks up on them like they’re her kids.

✂ when anita was eleven, a workplace injury put her father out of a job. the morenos never had a lot of money, but now they struggled even more to make ends meet. dolores became the primary breadwinner, and her income just wasn’t enough. just a year later, they were forced to relocate to new york city, which promised more jobs and better salaries. a friend of dolores’ got her a job at a costume shop ; arturo worked as a handyman.

✂ at first, anita was optimistic about her new life in the big apple. she was bored with life in her little island ; she wanted so much more than what puerto rico could offer. anita wanted to travel, to see the world. she wanted to study art and fashion, to become a fashion designer herself. like other puerto ricans, she saw america as the land of opportunity. she quickly realized just how wrong she was.

✂ things weren’t as easy as she thought they would be. she quickly became disenchanted with the american dream and grew up angry and resentful as she watched her parents work their asses off for a salary that was a small fraction of what their white coworkers got. she got sick of getting taunted for having an accent, for being too loud, or having a name that wasn’t easy to pronounce ( “ ah - nee - tah ” , not “ uh - nee - duh ” ). she realized that in order to fit in, she would have to lose her accent and change her name. she would have to change who she was.

✂ but anita has never been the kind of person who would make herself small to make other comfortable. at her young age, she decided she wouldn’t go out of her way to fit in. she would not change who she was just to appease those around her. anita made the choice to be unapologetically herself, and she hasn’t looked back since.

✂ she met the sharks in her early teens, and she’s forever grateful for them. she finally had a group of people that made her feel like she belonged. most of the time, she was an outsider. she was the “ other ”. with the sharks, she felt like she was one of them ( even technically she wasn’t ). she didn’t care that they were a gang, she had no qualms about that. it would be naive to think they weren’t a target. they had to protect themselves by any means necessary. it also didn’t hurt that their leader, bernardo, was so easy on the eyes. anita fell in love with bernardo, despite all the warning signs.

✂ once she was old enough, she went to work. her family’s financial situation was better in new york, but she still wanted to help her parents any way she could. she was a maid, a waitress, a babysitter, an usher. she handed out flyers at the park. she answered phones at a call center. during the weekends, she helped her mom at the costume shop — anita was already making clothes for herself, so she might as well put those skills to good use. she did anything to lessen her parents’ burden.

✂ tw sexual assault: her connection to the sharks made her feel safe, but at 16 it became clear to her that she needed to protect herself as well. she was walking home late one night after the restaurant where she was working had closed, when three boys surrounded her and cornered her in an alley. she knew what they had in mind, but she just froze. her body couldn’t react to what was happening until the very last minute, when it was almost too late. she made enough of a racket to scare them off. she ran back home. she vowed never to depend on anyone else to save her.

✂ once she graduated high school and started working full time at the shop, practically running it. she would have liked to study fashion, but she knew it wasn’t a possibility — college was expensive and not for people like her. she had some money saved up, sure, but the applications alone would have created a pretty big dent in her savings. she didn’t even bother asking her parents — college was out of the question. she focused all of her energy into the shop.

✂ about a year ago, she heard through one of the shop’s clients about a shop that was hiring in london — anita grabbed maría and jumped at the opportunity. the fact that the boys had moved relocated to london a few years before was a decent incentive, but not a reason. anita had outgrown new york. plus, she’d always wanted to travel. so anita took her savings and hopped across the pond.

→ 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪.

zodiac sign: taurus. personality type: estp — the entrepreneur. enneagram: type 1 — the reformer. temperament: choleric. moral alignment: chaotic neutral. primary vice: envy. primary virtue: diligence. element: earth.

✂ anita is feisty. she’s passionate and intense. she’s loud, she’s bold, she has strong opinions and is not afraid to share them. she might seem like she’s all over the place, but her feet are firmly planted on the ground. she knows who she is, and won’t let anybody tell her otherwise. she knows what she wants, and she won’t let anyone get in her way.

✂ i mentioned she has strong opinions, right ? well, to her, they’re the only valid opinions. she's not afraid to tell someone when they’re wrong ( or when she thinks they’re wrong, which to her, is the same thing ). go forbid anyone ever tell her she’s wrong — heaven help that poor soul. once she’s made up her mind up her mind about something, no one can tell her otherwise. she’s stubborn as a mule.

✂ she’s everyone’s mom friend. she’s the tough love mom friend. she’ll nag her friends and force them to eat their vegetables, drink water, and moisturize. this isn’t just because she cares ( although she does, deeply ) , she also just loves telling people what to do.

✂ she’s a hard worker ; it’s not rare to find her still working at the shop way past closing time — but she knows how to let loose. anita loves to go out dancing and will constantly beg her friends ( especially maría ) to go out with her. she’s convinced there’s nothing that can’t be fixed by a night out on the dance floor.

✂ she’s a highly skilled seamstress. she can recreate any article of clothing by just looking at it ; no pattern necessary. most of her clothes are handmade, and she loves making garments for her friends. you see a dress you like at some shop? can’t afford it? anita will make it for you.

✂ she’s always on / off with bernardo. she loves him, and she’s sure that will never change. still, they’re both passionate, volatile people. they clash constantly, breaking up and getting back together. she adores him, but she also wants to hit him with a chair sometimes.

✂ her apartment is full of plants. all kinds. she’s a certified green thumb and will yell at anyone who thinks succulents are easy to take care of.

✂ she has a small shoplifting problem. it’s nothing major. no need to worry.

✂ she has a cat named gasolina by daddy yankee. gaz for short.

✂ she’s a huge bad bunny stan. this may not seem relevant, but it’s important for me to tell you.

→ 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤.

✂ FRIENDS: i always have to start out with this one. anita’s a tough cookie to crack, but once she’s your friend, she’s loyal. she’s a ride or die kinda lady. your muse will not regret taking the time to get to know anita and earn her trust. they will have a friend for life.

✂ FRIENDS FROM NEW YORK: like i said, friend for life. your muse could have met anita when they were in high school, but this girl is not the kind of person to just let a friendship die because it’s been a long time.

✂ FIRST FRIENDS IN LONDON: she had the sharks, of course. but moving halfway around the world is scary and anita would’ve accepted any help she could get. these are the friends that helped her settle in and get used to all the cultural differences.

✂ PARTY PALS: anita loves to go out, so clearly she needs a little squad she hits up whenever she wants to hit the dance floor.

✂ FRENEMIES: anita’s a good friend, but she’s not everyone’s cup of tea. your muse might not like her. anita might not like them. anita might talk shit behind their back. anita might tell them to their face they that they suck, and might list the reasons why. anything’s possible.

✂ NEIGHBORS: could be friendly, could be not so friendly ! she plays a lot of loud music and doesn’t really have an inside voice. anita lives in the petersburg building, so if your muse lives there and you wanna say they live right next door, hit me up !

✂ COWORKERS: self-explanatory ! anita works at a shop that makes costumes for some west end shows, but they also take on a variety of clients ! they make clothes, they repair clothes, anything goes.

✂ CLIENTS: anita works at the shop, but will also take jobs on the side — she’ll take commissions, she’ll upcycle that oversized shirt you thrifted, of maybe just mend a torn-up skirt. anita is here for any of your seamstress / aspiring designer needs.

✂ FLINGS / FWB / HOOKUPS: like i said...on / off with bernardo. she’s not the kind of girl who’ll just wait around for him, so she will absolutely go out with other people ( and do other stuff with other people, winkwonk ) while she’s single.

✂ EXES: give me someone anita dated other than bernardo, please, i am begging you. give me someone she almost fell for before falling back into her old habits. i am on my knEES.

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Unification Church tied to Sales-Fraud scheme in Japan

By Frank Greve, Philadelphia Inquirer Washington Bureau

December 20, 1987

WASHINGTON — A 53-year-old Japanese widow with two daughters paid about $66,000 for a miniature marble pagoda worth $3,000.

The pagoda would ward off the family curse that had caused her husband to die young, the salespeople told her. If she did not buy, they told her during the four-hour session in their closed room, a relative soon would die in a traffic accident.

Later, the salespeople came back for more, according to a scathing 41-page report by a Japanese bar association committee on a sales-fraud scheme sweeping Japan. “Your family’s karma is very heavy. Your husband is still suffering,” the salespeople told the widow.

A daily cup of ginseng tea would appease the angry spirits, the salespeople said, charging the widow $50,000 for enough ginseng concentrate to do the trick.

The widow has lots of company. Since 1980, the Japanese sales-fraud scheme has claimed at least 14,579 victims and $165 million, according to the report issued in July by the Japanese bar association’s consumer problems section.

The pagodas, urns, rosaries, seals and ginseng sold all were produced in South Korea and sold in Japan by companies owned or controlled by what the bar panel tactfully termed “a certain religion.”

That “certain religion” is the Unification Church of the Rev. Sun Myung Moon, acknowledged John Biermans, spokesman for the church in the United States.

The scheme helped Japanese followers of Moon contribute as much as $800 million to subsidize Moon’s U.S. enterprises, according to Yoshikazu Soejima, a Japanese journalist who split from Moon in 1984.

Biermans blamed “communists” in the Japanese press and bar for distorting what he described as “part of the valid spiritual experience of the Unification Church in Japan.” He said investigators ignored “hundreds of thousands” of satisfied customers, including some who “experienced miracles.”

Japanese followers of Moon may have subsidized U.S. church investments, he added, but “we do it as independent people, not as part of our religious activity.”

The bar’s consumer lawyers rejected a similar argument, finding that Unification Church leaders were the manufacturers, exporters, importers, wholesalers and retailers of talismans and ginseng sold in Japan.

In addition, the salespeople – 3,000 of them, by Soejima’s estimate – live in church-owned group homes, use identical sales forms and employ a common distribution system, the report said.

The bar’s panel, after studying the complaints, found salespeople generally used the same tactics learned from a common sales manual, “Your Honey Talk.”

“Your Honey Talk”

A chapter called “Finding Your Customer’s Weak Point” instructs salespeople to first, without admitting they are selling anything, find an anxiety in the prospect.

Many victims, for example, said salespeople used free palm readings to introduce questions such as, “Do you have a terminal illness?” or “Is your family not in harmony?” Some victims were simply told, “You will become seriously ill when you are about 40. It will probably be cancer.”

Responsive prospects, mostly older women, were escorted by the salesman to a church “spiritual center” to discuss their aroused anxieties with “a great teacher.”

The teacher, his eminence plain from the salespeople’s showy deference, generally ascribed the misfortune to restless ancestors, according to the report. “Your eldest son will die because the spirits of your ancestors are not at rest,” is one reported example.

Next, the teacher is said to have told customers, “In order to break the bad karma and save your family, you must become a monk or a nun to appease the spirits, or you must give up your property.”

Inevitably, the last option was to “buy this product.” It might be a personal seal, rosary, funeral urn or pagoda made by the Unification Church’s Il Shin Building Stone Corp. in South Korea. Or it might be ginseng from the church’s Il Wha Corp. in South Korea, according to the report.

To resistant customers, sales teams often showed “videotapes of the calamities which befell people who didn’t buy,” according to the consumer lawyers’ panel.

Normally the pitch lasted three hours. Many were longer. As one victim put it, “Continuous persuasion from four in the afternoon until midnight broke my resolve, and I agreed to buy a funerary urn.”

Once a customer yielded, salespeople moved fast, according to the bar’s report, escorting her to her bank, overseeing the withdrawal, and sealing the deal. To subvert cooling-off periods provided under Japanese law, buyers were told that the charms they bought would fail unless kept secret.

Despite strong Unification Church efforts to dissuade victims from suing, recorded consumer complaints add up to more than $165 million in what the bar panel terms “a well-organized nationwide campaign of fraud and trickery.”

That is but a small fraction of the take, the report concludes, because “insecurity and fear have kept the vast majority of victims from coming forward.”

______________________________________________

Sun Myung Moon makes me ashamed to be Korean

“Japan. Wow! My eyes were opened.” A huge UC scam in Japan is revealed

Shocking video of UC of Japan demanding money – English transcript

Top Japanese ex-UC leader, Yoshikazu Soejima, interviewed

Moon extracted $500 million from Japanese female members

Suicide of Japanese ‘Moon money mule’ in Uruguay. Mother of three children

Japanese woman recrited by the Moon church and sold to a Korean farmer

Sun Myung Moon invented a  Theology of Restitution and a Theology of Dispossession – Part 1

Sun Myung Moon invented a Theology of Restitution and a Theology of Dispossession – Part 2

Sun Myung Moon invented a  Theology of Restitution and a Theology of Dispossession – Part 3

Sun Myung Moon invented a Theology of Restitution and a Theology of Dispossession – Part 4

Total Living Offering, 2003: Agree to sign over your house, land, etc.

Sun Myung Moon’s theology used to control members

[greatmuldini]

I trust the path I travel is the right one. I've faith to go along it no matter what happens to me.

On Tuesday, 3 October 1955, the picturesque village of Chesham in Buckinghamshire (at the very end of the Metropolitan Line) transformed itself, for one day, into the fictional Lancashire village of Shawcross, where on another fateful day in the year of our Lord 1775 the out-of-work cottage weaver Seth Makepeace encounters the local landowner's daughter Mary Radcliffe.

It happens to be Mary's 21st birthday, a significant date under any circumstances, but she is as yet unaware of the historical dimension of this one particular moment in time as she attempts to pass in her horse-and-buggy a gang of shabbily-dressed workmen mending the village roads. It is a pivotal moment in every sense – she is lifted from her carriage to be safely deposited on the ground beyond the blockage – because the tall young man with the deep-set eyes and the curiously shambling walk who picks her up and puts her down is none other than her future husband.

Far from love at first sight, though, their initial exchange is fraught with tension (“Don’t dare touch me, you wretch!”), but before long they will come to recognize the mutual gain to be derived from what we would call a classic marriage of convenience: Mary, being of age and of eminent eligibility, needs to escape from an arranged union with a foppish aristocrat; Seth, being poor but clever, needs cash to realize his dream of building a modern factory. Mary, too, has big ideas: about social justice and relief of the poor, neither of which will come to fruition if she bows to her family’s wishes.

It takes the urgency of Mary’s situation for both of them to realize that their ambitions, for better or worse, are inextricably linked. Mary is willing to risk the loss of her inheritance; for Seth the worst case involves jail and deportation. The stakes are high, and so are the opportunities, which both of them can clearly see. A period of joyful optimism ensues; the mill is built, the village prospers, and for four years, progress in Shawcross seems unstoppable.

The year 1779 marks a decisive turning point in the fortunes not only of the Makepeace household but in the lives of many people in the village of Shawcross and beyond. Competition among the Lancashire mills is fierce, and Seth is hard-pressed to introduce ever more efficient means of production. To stay ahead of his rivals, Seth reckons he must either cut wages or turn out a superior product. A solution offers itself in a new device for mass-producing stronger and finer yarns, but the inventor is unwilling to reveal his secret. Seth blames his wife for the failure of the deal, and in a fit of drunken bravado Seth turns criminal and steals what he needs.

That same night, Seth returns to Radcliffe Hall with a troubled conscience, almost ready to confess his crime to the one person he has sworn never to hurt, but Mary’s own distress prevents him from adding to her troubles. It is this moment of supreme vulnerability - and supreme betrayal - that will come back to haunt them both as they must deal with the human dimension, and the human cost, of the historical forces at work. Seth goes on to do what he knows must be done: he copies the mechanism and puts it to work without acknowledging the inventor’s contribution. As long as he can protect Mary from what he knows must be done, his wife remains blissfully unaware and passionately supportive of her husband’s undertakings.

To prove the point, Mary can at last reveal to Seth that she is pregnant, their future happiness assured – when they receive a visit from Mr Sidebottom, inspector of patents, who in his turn reveals to Mary and the entire family that the machines upon which their wealth has been built have in fact been used without license. The revelation comes as a shock not so much for its legal implications as for the catastrophic breach of trust Mary feels has been committed by her husband, and she fears they will not be able to heal the rift between them without major sacrifices. Here, modern audiences may draw different conclusions from the one offered and presumably endorsed by the original authors in the 1950s.

The American War of Independence eventually makes itself felt in a shortage of raw materials that threatens to close down whole industries. The existential threat takes many forms, and in Shawcross angry workers are storming the factories intent on destroying the machines they blame for the loss of their independence, their cotton, and their work. For Seth, too, the emergency is real: if he cannot keep the Mules spinning and the looms weaving, not only will the workers who depend on him lose their jobs, but the Makepeace brand will cease to exist. Having spent vast sums on smuggled cotton, he knows he does not have the capital to start again from scratch: the mill must be saved at all costs. In a mad dash to Liverpool Seth hopes to hopes to catch up with the next ship from the Colonies before his rivals can lay their hands on the precious cargo.

Meanwhile, a heavily pregnant Mary appeals to the enraged villagers to put their faith and their trust in her husband: he will do whatever it takes to find cotton and keep the mill going. Husband and wife are reconciled over the humane treatment of the factory workers, on which they both agree, but they remain divided over what their common interests are, and the lengths to which Seth will go to protect what he considers to be his interests. Ultimately, the mill is saved without loss of life and the rioters are captured, but Mary dies in giving birth to a healthy baby boy. With the future of his son and that of his factory at stake, Seth has no time to grieve. He knows what he must do - what Mary would have wanted him to do: even before he goes to see his new-born son he orders the prisoners released. The rebellion now a thing of the past, it is the value of the former rioters as a reliable workforce on which the Makepeace mill and the Makepeace dynasty will depend.

After the initial marriage of money and talent, followed by the uneasy truce between opportunism and idealism, finally we have, in Seth, the synthesis of capitalism and compassion: the idealized principle of progress. In his uncompromising pursuit of that principle, Seth has an uncanny doppelganger whose fanatical obsession with all or nothing ultimately ends in tragedy. Unlike Pastor Brand, however, Seth is not a tragic figure. He is not reminded of his hubris and of his mortality in one final moment of self-reflection - no space is reserved for such precious introspection. But if Seth and Mary represent “history on a human scale,” the reverse is also true. Seth is being elevated to a larger-than-life principle that transcends the fate of any single human being. And yet it is the very humanity of the flesh-and-blood character that would have made his exploits accessible to millions - courtesy of his real-life doppelganger.

Reviews of the play were favourable and appear to have been born out by the viewing figures. The positive response warranted a repeat twelve months later, and loyal audiences rewarded with an extended version of Seth’s on-screen exploits in book form. Momentous historical events intertwine with the minutiae of mechanized spinning and weaving, but the resulting tapestry of life in turbulent times would be incomplete without the human element of personal triumph and tragedy – which we can experience, albeit vicariously, through the domestic struggles of the fictional protagonists. The Ruthless Destiny is thought to be one of the “lost” productions from the BBC’s early days. We have no record of any surviving copies, and no script to help us compare the televised version with the still widely circulating novel. In it, Seth Makepeace is described in such detail as to suggest his physical appearance, bearing, and behaviour were closely modelled on the actual performance, as indeed seems to be the case for the cover illustration of a ferocious Seth determined to defend his mill, and his future, by any means necessary.

[mislovet2020]

My Dark Past and My Bright Future

They say everything happens for a reason and there is a purpose for every pain. This is my story of pain and how God revealed to me His wonderful purpose in my affliction.

Since I already shared in this blog a part of my dark past, I want to share this part of my life with no more hate but now with hope and love.

Almost exactly six years ago, February 01, 2014, I was harrased by my college professor inside a taxi cab. I was 17 years old that time and it was my first time in Quezon City that I trusted him na dadalhin niya ako sa sakayan pauwi ng Cavite. He took advantage of my innocence and naiveness. He sexually harassed me by touching my private parts, but that was not the worst part of that day. I was able to escape the ongoing horror because of the help of the taxi driver. But I was trapped by the horror of my past trigerred by such sexual harassment.

In a completely unknown place to me that time, Shaw Blvd. Station, I had flashbacks from my past that I can no longer remember. I saw myself in a bed and I was being abused. It was a clear picture in my mind but I can no longer remember any details. I was in panic and I was reliving the memory in my mind. I was shaking and when I came back to reality, I felt deep fear. I can no longer remember how I was able to go to the bus terminal on my own.

The flashback did not stop on that day. It continued until I saw the face of my abuser. I thought I was making it all in my mind. I realized that I had no memory of my childhood until my 11th year.

I Googled for answers and sought help of a psychologist. It is called dissociation and dissociative amnesia. It is a kind of a mental problem developed in the mind of a person who was victimized by a severe trauma. It is a product of a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD. Slowly by the help of a professional, I regained parts of my memory. It was not easy for me to process and accept it. It was painful for me to see how ruined I was and to see the lies of the people I trusted and loved.

Based on the recollection of my memories, I repetitively suffered, almost daily, sexual abuse and rape which started when I was four years old, had a pause when I was in grade 5, and completely stopped when I had my first menstruation. I was abused by not only one person, but few other men whose names and identity I can no longer remember.

Whenever I see news of children raped and died from that incident, I can feel envy in my heart. I used to wish na sana namatay nalang din ako. Sa isip ko, maswerte sila at namatay nalang sila, they do not have to grow up bearing the heaviness of the trauma and abuse and enduring all its effect while living in the world's expectation that you should continue surviving because you have survived the worst.

My spirit and soul was crushed during that season when I was being helped by a professional in regaining back my memories and surfacing my repressed emotions to address it properly. I craved for justice which I was not able to receive. My life was covered in a thic dark aura of anger. But it is necessary. To be angry is necessary. But anger should not last for long. Anger is important to acknowledge that there is something wrong, but it is not an emotion that we should cherish in our hearts.

Because of the pain, I distanced myself from my family. At a young age, I started living independently. However, I also intended to walk away from the love of God.

Before all of these happened, I was a very godly person. I tried to settle my unknown issues with the Lord by always praying and reading the bible. From my rebellious ways when I was in high school, I tried to change when I started my first year in college. I felt His love but when tragedy came to me, I forgot to trust in Him.

Living away from the Lord and my family, I did a lot of terrible things to cope up with the tornadoes in my mind. At the age of 18, I was living in with my then boyfriend. We had a baby, which I lost.

I became alcoholic, and I started smoking cigarettes. I also became addicted with downers.

It 2016 I went back to my province. My lifestyle got worse. But despite of all the bad things I was doing, I know I was still fighting for my future. I graduated as the first and only Magna Cum Laude of my course in my Alma Mater. I took pride of myself that I was self sufficient during those times by doing buy and sell and hair and makeup. Right after graduation when I had nothing to do, I enrolled in a State University and took Education units. Sabi nga nila, para akong dual personality, doble kara. One was an achiever and the other was a devastated person.

When I was in Cavite, I had this "ex boyfriend" nung high school na naging close ko ulit. He became my best friend during those times and he was the one who encouraged me to look for a work related sa tinapos ko instead of pursuing hair and makeup and buy and sell. He also encouraged me to continue law school.

Lahat ng job offers sakin, di ko tinanggap, actually including an offer from the Department where I am currently working. I was already accepted for work in DFA in 2016 just after my graduation, but I told the Human Resource Office that I will not accept the job because I do not want to work yet and that I find myself still earning big through my passion.

2017, more than a year passed, I received a call from DFA. The Department was again offering me a job and that I will have an interview kinabukasan. I was hesitant to go for it pero I was looking at my worsening self who was slowly turning to be addicted in wrong stuff, I decided to go to the interview and hoped that this might change me for the better.

I will never forget the interview question asked to me by the HR Director, he asked me what is the most difficult problem I faced in my life and how was I able to survive from it. I was honest enough to confess that I was an abuse victim and that I became suicidal, but I did not give up in life and despite of it, I was still able to stand up and continue in life and survive college with flying colors. He told me that in the job that I will have, I will deal with traumatized people, also victims of rape and abuse. He told me I am a perfect fit for the job not just because of my good college record but because of my personal experience.

After the interview, I also went to Arellano University and inquired about its program for working student.

I was accepted in an extraordinary job where I found the purpose of my pain. I was able to talk with a lot of distressed individual, some suicidal, majority are hopeless. I had empathy with them and I became effective in communicating with my clients. Some of them became my friends.

I had a travel in Jeddah where we assisted some mentally ill wards. During the travel, there was a ward in the shelter who was raped by her employer repetitively. Her body was shivering. I saw myself in her. I was like that when I was in Shaw Blvd. when I had the first flashback of my trauma. I sat beside her, held her hands and prayed for her in my mind. I told her nothing is ok with her situation, but she needs to stay on ground for her to survive. Tinanong ko siya bakit gusto mong lumaban, sabi niya para sa anak niya. Tinanong ko kung magkakaso ba siya, sabi niya oo pero natatakot siya kasi maalala niya lahat, binigyan siya ng Embassy ng abugado dahil malakas ebidensya niya. Sabi ko sa kanya, tingnan mo yung mga kasama mo sa shelter, ilan diyan ang nirape pero walang pagkakataon kagaya mo na ilaban ang hustisya. Sabi ko sa kanya, magpakatatag siya at ituloy ang laban, di lang para sa kanya pero sa lahat ng katulad niya ang pinagdaanan. Nawala yung nginig sa kanyang katawan at umiyak siya sa akin. Tinuruan ko siya ng mga tinuro sa akin ng psychologist ko dati kung pano babalik sa reality kapag nag didissociate. Di ko na siya muling nakausap pero tiningnan ko records ng case niya sa office, nanalo siya sa kanyang kaso at naka uwi siya ng Pilipinas. I never thought that my understanding of the pain in that kind of situation will give justice and freedom in the life of another person.

I had another case na naging guardian ako ng ward na may amnesia. I really cared for her. I visited her in the mental hospital from time to time until she was able to trust me to reveal some of the memories she already remembered. Alam ko yung hirap na magka amnesia, pero mas mahirap yung kanya kasi sa kanya total amnesia. But I did not give up on her, I made her feel na kahit wala siyang matandaang pamilya sa Pilipinas, na she has friend and family in me. Until she was able to remember her true identity, her real name and her province. Finally, there is hope.

My job has truly served some purpose to my pain. In 2018, a dream of my life came true. I was able to invest to have a space na para sa akin. I now have a condominium. I partly blamed my abuse na we had to co-live with extended family dahil wala kami sariling bahay. I also did well in law school.

I gave up my addiction with downers. It did not serve any good thing to me. The only things I was not able to give up were my excessive drinking and smoking.

But another bad coping mechanism was developed. When I broke up with my long time boyfriend, I found myself not valuing my body. I did casual sex, no strings attached relationship with some men.

I thought I was already recovered in 2018. I thought trauma was no longer ruling my life until I faced turn around events in 2019.

January 2019, I learned that my grandfather, my abuser, was terminally ill. He was suffering from cancer. Again, I was forced to face my reality and felt every single pain from my past. I was thorned between distancing myself from my family or be with them in this difficult time. But I did not know what should I feel with the situation.

February 2019, it was his birth month. My family asked me if I could show up and at least give him love during the last few days of his life.

On his last birthday, February 19, 2019, I went to work and somehow decided not to show up. But I cannot function that time, so I decided to go home. I first went to my condominium to cry out all my anger away. I told myself that such was the time that I should face him and forgive him. However, when I went home, di na siya makausap nang maayos. Noong nakita niya ako, sabi niya sa akin indirectly, na magpatawaran at magmahalan.

Hindi ko alam ano mararamdaman ng mga oras na yun. Ilang oras palang nakakalipas, nag seizure siya at nawalan ng pulse. Nag iiyakan lahat sa kwarto, ako nakaupo lang sa kama. Nung nirerevive siya, at dumilat siyang muli, ako ang una niyang nakita. May luhang pumatak sa kanyang mata habang nakatitig sa akin. Tumakbo ako sa banyo at doon ako humagulgol ng iyak. Hindi ko alam anong emosyon ang nananaig, galit, pagmamahal, pag sisisi, sakit, lungkot, pang hihinayang.

March 05, 2019, he finally left the world. Di ko maintindihan kung bakit ako naging sobrang abala sa burol niya. Noong namatay siya galit parin ako pero lahat ginagawa ko para maging maganda yung kanyang burol. Walang luha at pag iyak ako noong burol niya at libing. Pero pagkatapos noon, para akong hindi makabalik sa normal na ako. Di ko alam kung nagluluksa ako pero kasabay noon pagbalik lahat ng masakit na ala-ala. Nilulong ko sarili ko muli sa pag inom ng alak. Hindi nanaman ako muli makatulog tuwing gabi na walang alak sa katawan.

May 2019, noong mga panahong akala ko nagagawa ko na muling makabalik sa normal, may nangyaring masama ulit sa akin. A person whom I treated as a close friend took excessive advantage over me. He attemptedly raped me and he tried to commit suicide in front of me. Once again, I felt defenseless. I had anxiety knowing the background of his work and the syndicate he works with. All my past trauma surfaced when I was again placed in the same scenario. Because of my fear, I let myself to be used and manipulated by him.

In June 2019, I became close with someone. He was my boss and I always admire him. I was full of fear during those times. One time when we were both drunk, I intended to be with him and not to be dropped at my condominium because I know that this syndicate person was stalking me. I was afraid of my wellbeing and I honestly wanted to escape from his manipulation.

I never thought that this person, my boss, ang mapagkakatiwalaan ko. I had no friend that time who knows the misery I was in. I enjoyed his company and he became the ray of sunlight in my seemingly dark situation. I remember the day na sinabi niya sa akin na mahal niya ako, sabi ko sa kanya wag niya akong mahalin dahil magulo akong tao, magulo buhay ko. I suddenly burst out all my past to him inside his car. I told him how miserable my life is. But he was stubborn, he still continued to love me despite of my dark past. I also fell in love with him until the time we both decided to have a baby. It was fast. But all I saw that time ay ito na yung pagbabago ng buhay ko na inaantay ko. I depended on him sa maraming bagay.

When I learned I was pregnant, I suddenly felt fear. Yung takot na baka mangyare sa baby ko lahat ng pinag daanan ko. Pero nasa flight ako and I was reading a news paper, nabasa ko yung message sa our daily bread regarding fear and the Lord's promises.

Few weeks passed, my pregnancy became toxic. I had bleeding and attempted miscarriage. My partner was with me during all those times. He made us his priority and took care of me which I all took for granted because of one unsettled issue from my past which suddenly surfaced.

I was informed that the professor who harassed me in college was applying for work in the Department. I was in extreme panic. I asked may partner for a favor na harangan yung application niya. But he seems negative with the idea. I became angry with him. Lumabas lahat ng galit ko sa mundo. Galit ko sa injustices, and I questioned bakit hinahayaan ko nalang mamuhay ng normal lahat ng sumira sa akin. Bakit kailangan kong ingatan reputasyon ng mga tao. Bakit kailangang ako yung mag suffer habang sila normal lang. Pagod na ako maging mabuti sa mga tao.

Because of that anger, I found myself again in a depressive state. Again, I lost my reality. I made a major conflict between me and my partner. I had issues with him because I need to adjust for his image and reputation. I know di ako sa kanya galit, pero galit ako sa sitwasyon. Imagine all my life, I needed to keep myself silent just to keep the reputation of people. I deprived myself of justice I deserve, just to protect the image and reputation of people. And there I was again, protecting my partner's image and reputation. Although I understand him and I know keeping the identity of my child's father is the best thing we could do, pero yung anger ko from my past was being triggered by it. I was only in that point na pagod na ako. Pagod na akong magtago. Pagod na akong mag protekta sa mga tao. I lost my love because of anger. I lost my self control.

November 2019, I had a session with a psychologist. He asked me what is my problem. I told him, wala po akong na process na problema. Sunod sunod yung mga nangyare sa akin mula January and wala akong na process na emotion. Sabay sabay pa problema.

November 30, 2019, umiiyak ako while nasa Team Building ng office. Wala na akong mapagkuhanan ng pera, nag pull out yung tenants ko sa condo. I no longer know how I will handle everything at once.

First day of December, I went to a church service in Manila. Ang message is sa Matthew 6 about surrendering worries to the Lord.

" But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and ALL these things WILL BE GIVEN to you as well. "

Matthew 6:33

This striked into my heart. However, the following days were not easy. Nasanay ako na kaya ko ang sarili ko and that I can fix things by my own. I tried fixing all my problems only to find myself extremely exhausted with no positive result.

December 19, 2019, I was alone in my condominium crying in agony for hours, begging the Lord if he really loves me why I should experience all these things. I am crying na pagod na pagod na ako. An ate, a friend, suddenly called me. She wanted to pray for me. In her prayers, she was asking God to give me rest, to give my heart peace and rest and that I may experience God's perfect love and peace.

December 20, 2019, I had a pre-term labor because of physical tiredness from work and emotional stress. I though I would lose my baby. The doctor recommended complete bed rest.

I never thought that total resting is one of the most difficult things to do because sometimes it means taking down your pride and staying still and surrendering your long list of task to do to God. It is acknowledging that although you know you can be self-sufficient, God wants you to go to His embrace, in His resting place.

During my bed rest, I decided to just dwell in prayer and in reading the bible. Since my baby loves hearing me sing when he is awake, one song I love to sing to him is the lullaby Yes Jesus loves me. One time I was singing that song and I cried tears of joy knowing that Jesus loves me and that I can trust in His unfailing love. It also made me realize that His love is not only for me but for all and that I should be a vessel of His love. One by one, I released forgiveness. I forgave my abusers, my family, the situations I've been through. I forgave my partner for not being able to understand me and be there with me when I needed him most. I forgave myself too.

During rest I learned to put all my worries to God. One by one, I see how God works. My tenants returned and they paid their rents. Most of all, I felt peace and love in my heart.

With the father of my child, I was ready to just let him go. But one day, I woke up from a dream and I felt in my dream how heavy his problems are. The Lord made me feel this so I started praying for him everyday and sometimes, more than once per day. When I felt hopeless in our situation, I read a quote "love never gives up." While reading the bible, God impressed me that when you love, it is not about what you need, what you want. When you love, it is always what is best for the person you love. I know that only God's love is best for all and so I surrendered everything to Him. I remain hopeful that we will still be ok for the sake of our child. I believe in God's love for us.

It did not stop there. When I started surrendering to God all my worries, miracles start to happen. First with my tenants. Second, with the result of his exam.

I felt lacking for my child. I felt anxious from the very beginning of my pregnancy because of my dark past. But the Lord did not leave not forsake me. Everything that has happened was just in preparation of what is yet to come.

While resting in God's love, I am slowly finding the purpose of all the problems and worries, and it is for God to reveal His glory in seemingly dead situations.

I never thought that having a true change and breakthrough could be evident in my physical looks. Yesterday, a friend told me that I look different these past few days. He told me I look better and beautiful. It is not because of my face, but because he can see that I am putting myself above my worries. It is not just me above my worries, but it is God above my worries, above my traumas, above my fears, above my problems, above my broken relationships, above my hopes, and above my desires.

It is true, when you seek God first, he will give all the things you need at the right time in the right season.

[stephhannes]

america’s next top sparkling water pt. 2

two years ago i was lost. i was in new york city with no money, no family, no prospects for a good la croix replacement. if you remember, i wrote a blog chronicling my journey in finding a suitable substitute. and i found the answer to all my prayers in polar’s seltzer. 

if i had a dollar for every liter of polar i crushed, i’d be able to pay for all the seltzer i drank. i say that because it only cost a dollar per liter. i was living the dream. 

and now here i am, back in texas- far away from where the polar flows. i tried returning to la croix but it’s just not the same, honestly. 

one day i found myself in a central market in austin, texas. and as i walked in the doors, i saw it. a display for polar seltzer. they only had two flavors available- ginger lime mule (my favorite) and blueberry clementine. i grabbed as many 6 packs as i could carry and quite literally cried with joy while i did the rest of my grocery shopping. i actually think that moment was the happiest i have been since my fiancé died. 

then, something even more miraculous happened. i found love in a hopeless place (i found polar in abilene, texas). the grocery store had cans of cranberry lime (my second favorite flavor). i stocked up like i was a doomsday prepper. 

and thank god i did, because doomsday did come, eventually. it’s basically impossible to find polar in texas now. 

which means i am back to square one, except instead of trying to fill the la croix shaped hole in my heart nyc created for me i now have to fill the polar shaped hole in my heart that texas has given me. 

***

my search for stephanie’s top sparkling water begins in an airbnb in july. my hosts had left a handful of drinks in the mini fridge for me. one of which was a waterloo water, in the original “flavor.” here’s the thing: i get kind of creeped out by plain seltzer water, but waterloo had a certain je ne sais quoi that i liked, even in the plain flavor. i made a mental note to revisit it later. 

at my first trip to HEB after moving to austin, i bought the HEB brand of sparkling water. lime flavor. and i didn’t hate it…at first. until i got a taste of something better. my mother had left me with a couple of la croixs and i drank one, and then followed it up with an HEB seltzer and wow…..she was lacking in flavor. and what she lacked in flavor she didn’t even make up for in carbonation. a disgrace. 

the next avenue i ventured down was bubly. here’s the thing: i respect bubly because they have a great selection of flavors. but i just wasn’t wowed. there was nothing special about bubly. like sure, if someone offered me one at a children’s birthday party i wouldn’t be angry, i would happily use it to make a vodka soda, but i want my seltzer to make me feel special. i want to be excited about it. i’m not excited about bubly. 

spindrift. all i have to say is fuck spindrift. there are few things i hate less in this world than a seltzer with a lil bit of fruit juice in it. an abomination. 

so, remember how i mentioned that i was going to revisit waterloo? i revisited waterloo. i returned to my favorite aisle in HEB and picked out the black cherry flavor. there was this black cherry soda that i used to love as a child, and i thought that maybe it would bring back fond memories of childhood. 

i got home, and cracked open a cold one. and wow. waterloo hits the mark in all of my grading points (flavor, carbonation, personal enjoyment). my favorite thing is when drinks are so carbonated that it feels like they’re mad at you when you drink them- and waterloo provides. the flavor was exactly what i wanted, black cherry reminded me of the soda i loved as a kid, but with the perk of not being a soda. sometimes cherry flavors err on the side of tasting too fake, but this was perfect. it even tastes great when it goes flat- sometimes la croix flavors get a little weird after sitting, forgotten, on a bedside table for a few days. 

waterloo is absolutely my new seltzer of choice. mostly because it’s dope but also because i love to support a local brand. especially a brand that provides me with the product i am most passionate about. when i finally get a second job and can afford to actually eat again i look forward to trying out the other waterloo flavors.

nothing will ever truly replace polar in my heart, she was there for me when no one else was. but at least i’m not lonely and lost anymore. thanks, waterloo. 

[loisfreakinglane]

sansa stark

W O W WOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW OKAY YOU ASKED FOR IT

I’M HERE TO RAMBLE NONSENSICALLY

favorite thing about them

god literally everything how do you expect me to choose. okay okay okay for today i’m gonna kind of maybe cheat and say that my favorite thing about her is being inside her brain. i love her point of view more than anything else in the whole series. how she thinks, how she grows and what she believes, the things she chooses to say and the things she keeps to herself. her tiny rebellions maintained behind a wall of courtesy, her quiet courage. and then an added layer of snarkiness and flirtatious manipulation when she’s alayne stone.

least favorite thing about them

i could say her naivete and her strict adherence to social protocols, because of how that ruined her childhood relationships with arya and jon, but i can’t even consider those least favorite things because i LOVE those parts of her, I love that she’s had such a huge character arc. that she’s not a perfect person, that she had to grow and learn and UNlearn a lot of things

favorite line

WELL I CAN’T STOP AT ONE OBVIOUSLY

“All it would take was a shove, she told herself. He was standing right there, right there, smirking at her with those fat wormlips. You could do it, she told herself. You could. Do it right now. It wouldn’t even matter if she went over with him. It wouldn’t matter at all.”

“They are children, Sansa thought. They are silly little girls, even Elinor. They’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, they know nothing. Their dreams were full of songs and stories, the way hers had been before Joffrey cut her father’s head off. Sansa pitied them. Sansa envied them.”

“I could close my eyes. The mule knows the way, he has no need of me. But that seemed more something Sansa would have done, that frightened girl. Alayne was older, and bastard brave.”

“She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell.”

“She drew the knife and held it before her with both hands. “Are you going to stab me?” Dontos asked. “I will,” she said. “Tell me who sent you.””

“I hope you joust better than you talk. […] Should we ever wed, you’ll have to send Saffron back to her father. I’ll be all the spice you’ll want.”

and a show only line tragically cut from the final product? “I don’t know any songs. Not anymore.” I fucking LOVE that change, from her singing a song for the hound out of terror to her saying that instead. I think it both reflects that she is a bit older than in the book but also another way they chose to externalize some of her inner self

brOTP

GOD HOW TO PICK BC LIKE SO MANY PEOPLE but okay so ALWAYS it’s arya and jon and bran and margaery

show specific? brienne and theon and shae!!!

book specific? myranda and mya and jeyne

OTP

i’m crossing my fingers tormunds daughter show up and one is spectacularly gay but yeah basically that’s where i’m at now YES I KNOW SHES MARRIED I DON’T CARE. (i forgot actually sorry but i do like the idea of sansa and a wildling girl) or bring back hannah john kamens character ornela? she and sansa would be SO PRETTY TOGETHER. in another life i could have hoped harry hardyng would fall deeply madly in love with her and they’d have a legit partnership esp after she was revealed as sansa stark and she was soft with his bastard children in a way she never thought she’d be as a child bc she knows better now and he’d be her handsome trophy husband who’s kind of a snarky asshole but head over heels for her. ALAS HE DOES NOT EXIST IN SHOWVERSE so ig that means either he’s a ramsay-type asshole who treats her like garbage and she must escape him or he’s completely irrelevant to the future.

nOTP

i’m not personally here for any of the sansa/old men ships floating about. subverting her character doesn’t have to mean she winds up with an ugly old dude she’d never have wanted in season 1. she can still not want them without that rendering her character development void or lacking in some way

sidenote i wish this section had a fOETP bc i’m obsessed with her and cerseis relationship forever but that doesn’t fit into brotp otp or notp so i’m making an addendum

random headcanon

she bi dude

unpopular opinion

show-wise? i am both angry we lost her vale plot and that she was swapped out with jeyne for the bolton disaster show, but if i had to live with that then i’m glad we got her reunion with jon and her taking back the north. i’m mad at the journey s5 took but not the places it brought us to in s6, if that makes sense. BOOKWISE? ummm i don’t ship her with any ugly old men. also she’s one of the most amazing characters in the whole series (i mean the BEST to me personally) and her chapters are so unbelievably beautiful and lyrical and i could read them forever. also… the kingsroad was not that deep it was just a fustercluck and the only thing we don’t dissect enough was how cersei had so much time to manipulate her into keeping her mouth shut

song i associate with them

no song but here’s a fanvid rec :) i love watching this on my phone at 3 am and sobbing into my dog

favorite picture of them

[the-monkey-ruler]

An Oriental Odyssey (2018) 盛唐幻夜

Director: Zhou Xiaopeng

Screenwriter: Miao Juan

Starring: Wu Qian / Zheng Yecheng / Zhang Yujian / Dong Qi / Yuan Wenkang / more...

Genre: Romance / Fantasy / Costume

Country/Region of Production: Mainland China

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Date: 2018-10-18 (Mainland China)

Number of seasons: 1

Episodes: 50

Single episode length: 45 minutes

Also known as: House Slave Mule / An Oriental Odyssey

Type: Crossover

Summary:

Luoyang in the prosperous Tang Dynasty, Ye Yuanan, the daughter of the official of the household department, was very fond of fighting against injustice and when the oiran was being killed, he accidentally got hit and was acquainted with the heroic head catcher Zhao Lanzhi. The two worked together to solve the case and got to know each other well. Yuan'an rescued Mu Le, a mysterious man with amnesia from the market, and took him as a domestic servant. Unexpectedly, the stubborn Mu Le was absolutely loyal to him, and love and obsession gradually sprouted.

In cases such as Luotian Cave and King Jing's Mansion, the three cooperated closely, repeatedly solved strange cases, and defeated the conspiracy of Guoshi Tianqiao who was hidden behind these cases to seize the most precious nine-star rosary. Princess Minghui, a member of the flyover, fell in love with Lanzhi, and threatened Lanzhi's marriage with Yuan'an's life. Yuan'an feels disappointed, and is angry to marry Mu Le, but he is misunderstood by Mu Le. When Mu Le was sad, he realized that he was a prince in trouble in a foreign land, so he stole the nine-star rosary engraved with strange magic and returned to his country for revenge. Yuan'an, Zhao Lanzhi, and Minghui came after them, and the four joined hands to quell the chaos, and thus they found the place of true love.

Source: http://chinesemov.com/tv/2018/An-Oriental-Odyssey.html

Link: https://www.nunuyy5.org/dianshiju/5343.html

[akindredmausoleum]

from the 42 development questions maymay: 13, 18, 24, 31, 38

42 character development questions        

13. How do they greet the world — what is their typical attitude towards life? How does it differ in different circumstances, or towards different subjects? Why do they take these attitudes, and why do they change?

Dahlia is a do-or-die perfectionist; everything has to be spot on the first time, or it’s not worth trying. High strung and pessimistic by nature, she heads into any situation assuming the worst, worry constantly gnawing away at her thoughts after any even moderately important decision, anxiety eating her fleeting bouts of optimism alive. She’s also a chaser; the crowd, the high, the cash, the kill. There’s an innate unsatisfaction in that girl that’s only ever been curbed temporarily.

The root cause of these issues was her mother. Pushing and pushing for success, for better, better, better, all the time. Nothing ever felt good enough, and even out of her parent’s scope, the trait has bled into her adult life. Old habits die hard. 

It never really goes away, but the miscellaneous people of Dahlia’s unlife help find the workarounds; phrasing tasks like favours works for Nines, and Damsel just yells till Dahlia gets angry too. Not perfect, but it gets the job done.

18. What kind of person could they become in the future? What are some developmental paths that they could take, (best, worst, most likely?) what would cause them to come to pass, and what consequences might they have? What paths would you especially like to see, and why?

Best case scenario? Dahlia learns to live with her particular strain of madness, gets therapy, and manages to feel comfortable in her own skin without feeling forced to embellish. Finally finds the guts to go home and see how things have changed. It’s highly unrealistic, but you said best.

The more logical future shows a Dahlia who still wears the mask, but lets it down a little easier. Is a little less ruffled by the opinions of strangers. Happy in bigger, more sustained doses, and content in places. Not many friends, but enough.

Worst case: she caves to her madness and either kills herself or gets killed by someone else. She made Nines promise once, if she ever went off the deep end and showed no sign of coming back, that he’d put her out of her misery. Nines was never one to go back on his word, after all.

24. How do they present themselves socially? What distinguishes their “persona” from their “true self”, and what causes that difference?

Dahlia’s outward persona is a carefully constructed lie hinging on an immaculate appearance and the vague sense of an utterly euphoric death. Careless and indifferent sex appeal; nights spent wobbling along the kitchen tiles in stiletto heels till she walked with intentional sway. Sideways glances and coy smiles, as little teeth as possible. Forcing the pain of trapped acrylic nails not to change her expression. Social smoking even though the taste makes her queasy. Bond girls. Brigitte Bardot. Lana Del Rey.

In reality, Dahlia is a mule-headed, cowardly crybaby who can’t say no to people she likes and overthinks people’s opinions of her, and it shows in how quickly she’ll withdraw from a situation if she thinks the other person isn’t fond of her. If she hadn’t been so interested in chasing Nines, Damsel would of scared her away from the Anarchs before she’d of had chance to start. This too, is part of the reason for her act. Pretending to be permanently a little bit disinterested makes it easy to move out of unfavourable situations. That, and pretty gets. Bat your eyes at enough straight rich men and one of them is bound to give you what you want.

31. Is there anything that counts as a “dealbreaker” for them, positively or negatively? What makes things go smoothly, and what spoils an activity or ruins their day? Why?

If her powers don’t work? Nine times out of ten, Dahlia will be gone. She’s not particularly fond of dementation (especially when it forces itself out rather than being called upon), but her obfuscate is her crutch. And heavens, does she despise it when she can’t use it. She tends to back off of unfamiliar Elysiums, even with reliable company.

Not only does Dahlia try to avoid mess like plague, she has painfully good morals in regards to other people’s lives for someone who  pretends not to care so much. She doesn’t like to kill unneccesarily, and outright refuses to engage in activities she can’t at least try to talk her way out of. Resorting to brute force turns any night sour. God knows how she ended up surrounded by Brujahs.

Conversely, a good night is a clean, productive night. Busy schedules don’t give her time to wallow and brood, and scrounging up some company to handle the dirty bits again keeps her mind occupied and more in tune with her surroundings. If she’s in a good mood, she’s chatty.

38. Is there anything they wish they could change about their worldview or thought processes? What, and why?

Dahlia wishes her damn brain would work. It all runs back to that. Her pessimism, her mental health issues, her closed-off nature, her issues with self worth and the way she treats her body like an object to be used, the constant sadness that hangs off her like a shroud. The thin whispers in the dark. The fact her Embrace has only seemed to double up her problems and add some new ones into the mix.

She went from the desperation of wanting to be something more to craving quiet normalcy in a single night. That shitty waitressing job doesn’t look so bad over the dry incessant hunger that haunts her now.

[drinkerrs789]

Everything you need to know about moonshine

Hey Friends, it looks like you're a little lost in the jungle. It can hurt a person here. We'll direct you to the route again, but it's best to forget that you saw us and our little distilling - i.e. camping - operation. So what did you see that’s right: nothing? Here, this is a brick jar. At home. This is the mood when it comes to moonshine. Distilled, true moonshiners are operated as needed in backwaters, clearings and other hiding places. Cue the world band and finally get your hands on some of these forbidden spirit things. Moonshine is our catchy word for illegally created distilled spirits. Presumably, the stolen distillers set up at night, in moonlight, to avoid detection. It has different names around the world, but here in the US we landed on the moonshine, which we think is very solid.

What is Moonshine

Moonshine is high proof liquor. Moonshine is one of the best America’s greatest spirits, but it’s really hard to make exceptionally well because it’s unaged. It is difficult to make moonshine without the major oak properties we usually think of when drinking whiskey. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, moonshine is defined as whisky or other strong alcoholic drinks made and sold illegally. With that definition, it may be confusing to walk into liquor stores and find booze labeled as moonshine

History of Moonshine

Moonshine has a history that is as abundant as the style of the soul. Most people may be aware of the infamous side of his past, but this American spirit boasts the right attributes to be celebrated today. A many years ago, American farmers grew tons of barley, corn, and rye. These grains fed the nation, but the surplus made perfect candidates for fermentation and distillation of liquor. While farmers do this work at home, whatever equipment they can get, completely out of the books. Prior to stainless steel kegs and refrigeration, high-ABV spirits such as corn whiskey were more stable products than beer, which deteriorated relatively quickly. You may surprise why Moonshine is historically illegal. Unsurprisingly the production of distilled spirits quickly became illegal and the reason was - as always - money. The United States has been taxing spirits since the time of George Washington. Breaking ties with the British Empire was not cheap, and by the time we agreed to see other people, the United States had taken on some serious debt. The "whiskey tax" was intended to raise funds to pay off debts. You can imagine, many amateur distillers were very angry about the new taxes and refused to pay. The reaction came to be known as the “whiskey rebellion". The situation became very tense; Washington had to intervene, but never resorted to violence. Maybe they just said it over a drink. The message was clear to distillers who did not want to pay: either get out of the game or take your operation to the desert. It is here that the mythical idea of ??the backwoods and the mason jar of clear super-hooch with reality. The more remote you’re distilling operation, the better the chance to avoid the law. The embargo revived the moonshine on a large scale, and underground distilleries worked to keep alcohol flowing with organized crime. After the ban failed, the moonlight dimmed, but it didn’t really fade completely.

Is Moonshine is Illegal

Yes. The real moonshine was, is and will not always be illegal. Historically, moonshiners made their own liquor to avoid laws, taxes and regulations. To ensure safety and quality standards are met without any FDA inspectors. In other words, the moonshine label we see on spirits today is flexible. It serves as a holistic term for alcohol that does not fall within a specific defined category. This means that the moonshine you buy at your local liquor store is safe for legal and responsible use. The legal moonshine that you are buying from Drinkerrs captures the original backwoods spirit, but also the feeling of not paying the ATF a hefty fine. You can't make and sell alcohol the way you make lemonade. Alas, the world does not work that way. Legal distilleries will have to register with the Tax and Title Bureau and pay taxes and licensing fees.

Process of Moonshine

Historically the American Moonshine Whiskey recipe has a healthy mix of cereals, such as corn, malt barley, and perhaps some spicy rye. Moonshiner will create a sour mash using warm water, yeast and friendly bacteria that you will find in yogurt. Ingredients form fermentation, alcohol. The fermented mixture is then distilled by heat, condensing in another pot as a fierce alcoholic spirit. This is a shorthand process.

Can we make Moonshine at home

No. Please don’t try. Distilling is very dangerous, as pure alcohol is a volatile substance. Training is also required to be able to identify potable ethyl alcohol from toxic versions such as methanol. Not all stories of bad moonshine blinding and killing people have happened. Ohh, and remember that it’s illegal. The government imposes some fines for domestic distillation, so you can browse here by browsing safe, delicious moonshine and leave on the Drinkerrs work to professionals.

Moonshine vs. Whiskey

No barrel aging. Most backwoods distillers didn’t burn American oak barrels to extend the life of their moonshine, so they drank it as it was or chopped it up with other natural flavors. Bourbon and Scotch whiskey get their color from barrel aging, while unaged whiskey is obvious. We call it white whiskey. Straight Moonshine is the same, and while it’s not as complex or beautiful as Amber Bourbon or Scotch, it’s incredibly powerful and provides a neutral canvas for other flavors and killer cocktails.

How Do You Make Moonshine Taste like Whiskey

It depends on which whiskey, you are talking about, but American bourbon whiskey legally needs 51% corn minimum. The biggest flavor contributor is not the sour mash, but the barrels themselves, so unless you get fresh burnt oak barrels at home, your best bet is to buy some of the best Buffalo Trace White Dogs and compare them to their beautiful straight bourbon. The white dog is very strong but the corn is more neutral in taste with a touch of sweetness.

Moonshine Types and flavors

As we discussed about moonshine here is the some flavor. 1) Firefly Apple Moonshine. 2) Firefly caramel Moonshine 3) Firefly cherry Moonshine 4) Firefly Moonshine strawberry. 5) Steelhouse Moonshine Peach tea

Drinking Moonshine

The sweetness of moonshine whiskey blends smoothly with vodka, so you can submit it for vodka in almost any cocktail to get some American flavor. The American mule is a great example. Swap some shine in for vodka in our recipe. That’s fantastic. Humble and never rebellious, Moonshine really opposes clear classification and we are quiet about it. Drink it straight from the jar or mix it into your favorite cocktail. We’ve got all the tastes here at Drinkerrs, so order some forbidden fun with Drinkerrs tonight!