alcohol dependency

when im drunk i forget that life is a pretend game and it makes everything ok and thats why i became dependent on alcohol

Okay, this has been on my mind for awhile but I’ve never known how to properly articulate it. But I’m going to try since I’m on my S3 re-watch and I have a lot of feelings. Mostly about Seth and his dynamic with both Richard and Kate.

It’s pretty interesting to me that if you look back on S2 in relation to S3, they practically run parallel to each other—in a way—when it comes to Seth’s personal arc. The beginning of S2 shows him cut-off from Richard. And, for all intents and purposes, considering his brother to be dead. The beginning of S3 shows him trying to move on from Kate’s murder, even though he’s still actively grieving.

And the thing is… Seth’s semi-functional. He learns to live with the absence. He gets by. Losing Richard, he’s taken his propensity to self-medicate to an entirely new level—he’s not just popping pills anymore or depending on alcohol, he’s addicted to heroin. But he’s still pulling jobs. He’s still managing to protect and support Kate as best he can. Losing Kate, he nearly goes catatonic when he hears the news of her death—he considers himself responsible. But he pulls himself together. He avenges her. He mends fences with Richard and goes to work with him. (My believing that he relapsed multiple times between S2 and S3—“Go back to your needles, Mr. Gecko.”—is a topic for an entirely different post.)

Take both Richard and Kate away, though, and Seth’s like a computer whose motherboard just short-circuited. It’s suddenly—CTRL; ALT; DELETE. It’s him dropping his gun and waiting for Amaru to murder him because the only two people he loves, who he’s made it his life’s mission to protect and care for, are dead. Because Seth doesn’t have that high an opinion of himself. He’s got self-hatred down to a fine science. He doesn’t place any worth on his own life. (This is part his mental illness at work, part abuse victim psychology.) His reason for getting up in the morning is, “He’s fine. He’s going to be fine. Just get him to Mexico.” It’s, “Kate. I saw Kate out there.”

It still floors me that it’s canon fact that Seth can’t survive if he loses the both of them. His brother and his girl are his sole reasons for existing, and the show has gone out of its way to make that clear.

CHENBAEK answered the Xiumin Quiz

Q1 The role Xiumin is in charge of when promoting as ChenBaekXi?
C: He’s in charge of being  the Oldest Hyung. Unofficial leader
B: He’s the oldest hyung. And the manger of CBX

2. (Though I don’t want to acknowledge it) Xiumin is better at ‘this’ than me. Please explain what ‘this’ is.
C: Cute aegyo
B: Football

3. Please chose the eating method when Xiumin eats Tangsuyuk (sweet and sour beef/pork)
CB: Dip the pork into the sauce

4. Please guess what Xiumin save your contact name as on his phone.
C: Chen
B: Cutie (X) — It’s Baekhyun

5. Please write all of Xiumin’s favorite snack to have with alcohol  
C: It depends on what kind of alcohol he’s drinking. With Soju - meat, soup. With Beer - fried food
B: Chicken, sweets, cakes, dried fish

6. What  is the most messy thing in Xiumin’s room
С:There isn’t one. But if I had to pick one it’s me messy bed
B: There is no such thing

7. After Xiumin ate this on camera, it appeared on the real time search. What was it?
CB: Mocha Bread

8. What Xiumin’s final words were when he was put in jail on “Crime Scene”
C: EXO-L, help me!
B:This is some kind of bad feeling (X)

9. Xiumin turned 27 years old this year.  Write everything you know about Xiumin’s secret of maintaining a baby (youthful) face
C: If I knew I would have a youthful face too. I don’t know I think he was born with it.
B:He was born with it

10. Why in the “Hot debut: Exo’s first unit’ video Xiumin covered Baek’s face instead of his mouth.
C: Baekhyun had make-up done,so if Xiumin would cover his mouth the make-      up would be ruined (X) —You can see the right answer at Baek’s answer list
B: He wanted to close my mouth but I turned my head. So that why his hand         landed on my face


C: 90%                                                                                                                 B: 80%



Sam Vimes

Sam Vimes once arrested a motherfucking dragon
Sam Vimes once arrested two opposing armies to end a war.
Sam Vimes killed a werewolf with his bare hands.
Sam Vimes happily wears the awful lumpy itchy socks his wife knits him.
Sam Vimes causes traffic jams in order to be home in time to read his baby a bedtime story.
Sam Vimes fought at the barricades— twice.
Sam Vimes overcame a crippling alcohol dependency.
Sam Vimes examines and confronts his internal prejudices.
Sam Vimes lived in poverty because he was giving his salary to the widows and orphans of fellow officers.
Sam Vimes cleaned up a corrupt police force and made it inclusive of the different ethnicities in his city.
Sam Vimes is my hero.

Friends will help you move, but true friends will help you move the body and cover up a pagan murder ritual with you and become alcohol dependent with you and help you plot to kill your best mate and then cover that up as well and then descend slowly into madness with you until reality seems as a distant burst of greek fire on the horizon…
—  Richard Papen

           It started off like any other Saturday night for Alibi, one of Gotham’s busiest night clubs. We clocked in, relished in the semi-decent smell of disinfectant which would soon be replaced with the usual smell of sweat, alcohol and depending on the night, vomit. For the most part it was decent though, one of the perks of working at a high end club opposed to one of the dives only ten blocks south of here. No more than twenty minutes after our arrival the doors were open and the flood of money and warm bodies rushed in and I was lost in the music and the business.
           By the time 2am came, like always, I became annoyed. I became annoyed by drunken men trying to touch me, flirt with me, and ‘take me home’. I became annoyed with the predictability of the people, and how they thought just because they were wealthy and drunk it meant they could treat the staff and their partners the way that they did. Thank God this was only a gig. If I worked here every day I would probably set the whole place on fire and get away with it too. My skill set was wasted on this place, I killed people for a living and I liked it, I was good at it, pouring drinks was just a cover. But I have to admit the tips were good.
           “You look bored,” A growling, deep voice made me look up.
           The guy was a character to say the least, but I found myself oddly attracted to him despite the pale skin, makeup, silver teeth, and electric green hair. He was a snappy dresser too, in his silk dress shirt open for the most part to expose his ink, gold chains, cane and trousers. It shouldn’t have taken me so long to realise who he was, but I wasn’t afraid, instead I leaned forward and asked, “What can I get ya Mister?”
           “How about your name, doll?”
           In most cases I’d lie but eyeing him curiously I opened my mouth to give it when a brawl broke loose by the private booths. Mobsters were attacking each other left right and centre and yet the bouncers were nowhere to be found. Grabbing the baseball bat from under the counter I practically glided through the crowd of packed bodies bringing the bat down on a gunman’s arm and he screamed. 
           “I’m going to have to ask you to-” A fist caught me hard in the cheekbone and I swung my bat hearing a satisfying crunch as I swatted at the brawling bodies. 
           “I don’t like to repeat myself fella’s”
           A hand was at my throat, pinning me down on the table and a gun was pressed against my head. I glared up at the sweaty, heavy-set scumbag and pulled the knife from my garter stabbing the man once, twice, a third time before I was able to shove him off me.          A gunshot went off and pain exploded down my arm, anger swelling in my breast as I turned to face the bastard. I watched his face pale as I advanced, picking up my bat from where I had dropped it. He raised his gun but I was already there, pulling him to me by the wrist and my head smacked against his with a force that made me bleed. I broke his leg with the bat before whipping around and shielding the other shots from his companions with his body.
           Diving behind the DJ stand I grabbed a gun that had been knocked aside in the midst of the fight and I fired. I did not think, I just did what I have been doing my entire life and then it was done.
Rising I heard clapping from where The Joker sat laughing. 
           “So intense,” He said with a grin before it fell away and his eyes seemed to burn right through me. He gestured me to come to him with an index finger and I let the gun fall to the floor with a clatter as I moved to him. He looked at me, his eyes dark and hungry and my heart picked up its pace.
           ”Now, what’s your name, baby doll?”
           “Y/N, Mister.” 
           “Ahhh Y/N Y/N Y/N” He rose, circling around me purring and growling in a way that made my flesh tingle.
           “Where’d you learn to do that?” He whispered in my ear and I licked my lips.
           “A girls gotta eat.”
           He laughed coming back around to face me and he moved in close. 
           “Do you know who I am Y/N” 
           “I do, Mister J” I replied. 
           “Do you know what I do?” He asked running his thumb across the blood dripping from the gunshot wound on my shoulder and he smeared it across my lips. I met his cool blue eyes completely absorbed in them. 
           “Yes,” I whispered.
           He pointed out the joke and folly of humanity, the joke of law and order when they were just ideals hanging on by a very thin thread. Humans were inherently crap, as a hit-woman I learned that very quickly.
           “Do you wanna be my friend, honey?” He asked.
           I didn’t even have to think about it before I replied “Yes, Mister J.” 
           He kissed me and I tasted copper, my blood turning into liquid fire in my veins and then he was pulling away while I leaned in closer. 
           “Do you want rule this city with me Y/N?” He purred his hand curling around my throat.
           “Say it,” he rolled his neck his index finger trailing down my lips. “Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty,”
           “Please.” I finished.
           “You’re so… perfect. Let’s go home Y/N, we’re going to make chaos together.”

[If you didn’t like it I’m sorry, I was rushing and I tried. If anyone wants I will take requests it will be hard to give me a request I will turn down, I hope you enjoyed my first try at this]

anonymous asked:

What are your best tips for losing belly fat/sculpting abs?

Clean eating is the most helpful and efficient way to lose fat in general but even more so in the abdomen. Also rather than working out abs once a week, spend 15 minutes doing abs every day you workout.

Again really work on the diet tho, eliminate any empty calorie and highly processed foods (also you may want to reduce alcohol consumption depending on the amount you drink because that can contribute to a lot of fat build up)

Imagine your OTP...

It’s Person 1’s birthday, and this will be the first day they can drink alcohol legally (this age depends on which country you are from). Person 2 is taking them out to get the biggest, greatest, most extravagant drink in town! Can Person 1 handle it?

From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey

I will summarize a lot of the routines of artists by saying that after reading a lot of the entries, I thought to myself that writers work pretty much as anyone else works. They wake up, start working, and then take a break, and then work again. It’s actually kind of boring to hear this routine over and over again.

But—it’s true that a lot of artists took long breaks in the afternoon to exercise, which I think is interesting. Many of them only worked in the mornings, and took the rest of the day off. Some went back to work, but most of them had a set quitting time so they could go back to family/real life.

A handful of them worked late at night instead of early in the day. A handful also depended on alcohol or cigarettes or other drugs.

Many of them had partners of various kinds who helped them to work by keeping children or others away from them during their work hours. Some of these (like Mahler’s wife) gave up their own creative careers to do this.

Some were very rigid about their routines, down to the minute. Others were less rigid. Some had no routines at all and simply worked when they could, however they could. Some had desks and private rooms. Others worked wherever they could, however they could.

This is the big lesson for me, that every artist really works in their own way. Find out what your way is and go with it. Just get the work done. I’ll use some quotes I made notes of over the next few days.

anonymous asked:

For the unusual asks: 87, 97, 98 and 100

87. Are you outgoing or shy?
Very outgoing and loud but my business is my business. I’ve earned the nickname “mother” (or “fun alcoholic aunt” depending on what kind of day it is) in my class haha. That being said while I’m generally well-liked and sociable at school I don’t have many close friends and I seldom see people outside of school due to some personal stuff that I’m hoping to work through a.s.a.p.

97. Dark, milk or white chocolate?
P dark and preferably with sea salt.

98. Favorite month?
October. So that I can let myself get excited about the one holiday I genuinely enjoy (and isn’t celebrated here). Halloween. 

100. Who was the last person you cried in front of?
I can’t remember. Probably my mother. Maybe my little sister too but yeah I can’t remember. 

imagine team free will meeting Sherlock and co. and Sherlock looking at Dean once and then whispering to John “alcoholic, extreme dependency issues, low self esteem, closeted bisexual, kinky as fuck, submissive bottom” and John just starts choking a little bit and trying not to laugh and Team Free Will is staring at them and Cas’s head is tilted and his mouth is slightly open and his head is tilted slightly to the side and Sherlock locks eyes with Dean and gives a little wave and before John can stop him he blurts out
And smiles and turns to John and giggles like a four year old and Sam can’t help himself and he just breaks down and is laughing so hard and Cas is still squinting an Dean is blushing and Sherlock turns and says “Oh, I meant…hi!” And John shakes his head and starts to apologize but Cas is like “I do not understand, Dean please explain what is so amusing”
And Dean turns red and Sam and Sherlock are laughing like idiots and John is just watching Sherlock and smiling and shaking his head in fondness

“codependent”, by the way, didn’t originally really mean something like “is dependent on this other person in an unhealthy manner”, but rather “is dependent, alongside another person (”co-”), on a particular behavior (drinking alcohol, most often, but also gambling, working, etc.), via that other person (ie. being the enabler of someone else’s addiction)”. being dependent on (the pathological act of) enabling someone else’s pathology, basically.

it’s… an interesting semantic shift, to say the least, that “codependency” has become this thing separate from any other kind of “dependency”, from alcoholism or other substance abuse etc.

- Ace