twelve step programs

dear best friend;

i am sorry i fell in love with you
i am sorry for not accepting your rejections
i am sorry for being so suicidal when all you do is care

you are a flame i scorched myself on
desperate to feel again after she broke my heart
& i wanted to love you harder than ever
yet you took my hand & sugarcoated “no”
in the sweetest way i had ever heard

you are a dream-catcher above my bed
lulling me to sleep, knowing that i might not be okay
but you still tend to my wounds, no matter how old
& i swamp you with unsolvable problems
yet you still find solutions to cure the ailments

i am sorry i’ve been a terrible friend
an itch you can’t scratch, a scar you can’t heal
i am sorry that i couldn’t be someone you wanted
a beautiful & loving piece to fit inside your broken heart

you are an escape, a field of wildflowers to lay in
after a long night of wiping my tears on pillowcases
& your gentle hands caress my head & promise me
it’ll be okay, someday, somewhere, when i’m finally free

you are the best friend i never had
& i can’t express myself enough in words
just how special that place in my chest for you is
a golden city for a golden boy who truly understands
what it means to be a human being to someone like me

a safe space for me to let go of my armor & let the oceans flow


twelve step program / making amends / letter eight

  • ❝  That barely covered vagina of yours deserves better than that. ❞
  • ❝  I appreciate your anger. ❞
  • ❝  Your chief complaint is not that I screwed someone; it is who I screwed. That’s what it’s about, right? ❞
  • ❝  Your issue with us is purely driven by a societal insecurity, not to mention a culturally infused female competition. My heart goes out to you ladies. ❞
  • ❝  My therapist suggested I attend a twelve step program, for recovery from a love addiction and romantic obsession… ❞
  • ❝  I cheated on you. ❞
  • ❝  You’re not an addict. You’re just a whore. ❞
  • ❝  I did let someone put a protein bar up my ass once. ❞
  • ❝  I will straight up murder you if you do not sign this immediately. ❞
  • ❝  I love kids. Kids love me. I basically am a kid. ❞
  • ❝  But I would still choose you. Possibly because you’re uninterested. Most likely because you’re stunning and successful. ❞
  • ❝  Sexual anorexia. It’s like depriving yourself of sex because of low self-esteem, or abuse or other gnarly shit. ❞
  • ❝  I’m telling you, someone’s gonna murder us if you keep screaming. ❞
  • ❝  Was this supposed to be a date? Oh shit, it was… Oh hell. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, I’m a dick. ❞
  • ❝  You’re a catch! It’s true. You know, I’m serious. You’ve got a strong vocabulary. You look dynamite in a tank top. ❞
  • ❝  You know, little girls are told someday they’ll find The One. What they don’t tell you guys is that The One might be a complete fucking dickhead with a boring heroin penis that turns you all into a sex addict. ❞
  • ❝  Some have suggested that I have a little bit of a problem staying faithful… for long periods of time… or possibly at all. ❞
  • ❝  Look, once I come to the realization that I’m with- the wrong girl, I don’t know how to end it. ❞
  • ❝  So you sabotage it by sleeping with other people. ❞
  • ❝  Then comes the big old rigmarole of like ‘you’re afraid to commit’ and it’s like 'no, I just don’t want to commit to you.’ But I can’t say that, because that’s like mean on top of mean… So instead I’d rather just say something like: 'I fucked your sister.' ❞
  • ❝  Whoa, since when are you a porn star with killer grammar? ❞
  • ❝  Look, she’s my best friend and I would say by circumstance and certainly duration, you would be my next best friend. ❞
  • ❝  It is a cascading shit storm that is your creation. ❞
  • ❝  A tremendous amount of Malcolm Gladwellian logic jumps. ❞ 
  • ❝  We’ll you’ve spent ten thousand hours fucking my life up. ❞
  • ❝  Dude get the fuck out of here, I got it. ❞
  • ❝  I appreciate your concern, Superman! Fly away. ❞
  • ❝  Baby. Just breathe will you. Okay? Will you? Here, come on, sit down. You’re gonna be okay. It’s alright, you just got to breathe. Please. Okay? Yeah. There you go. ___ , this is just fear. ❞
  • ❝  You take this risk when you start sleeping with people. You know, you risk losing them. So for me, I’ve never slept with someone I wasn’t willing to lose. Except one time. ❞
  • ❝  And it kills me that you’re probably gonna go to ___. And it kills me that I can’t ask you to stay, because I have no right to, you know. ❞
  • ❝  Welcome to the hell scape that is my son’s birthday party. ❞
  • ❝  Dude… are you really using your kid to hit on my friend? ❞
  • ❝  First part false. Second part true. ❞
  • ❝  Do not gaslight me with SAT words and sliding scale morality. ❞
  • ❝  You want to tell me about it? ❞
  • ❝  You never told him to make a choice, you know. ❞
  • ❝  Are we in love with each other? ❞
  • ❝  I love you for free. ❞
  • ❝  Unfortunately I don’t sleep with men in relationships anymore. ❞
  • ❝  I stopped cheating anyway. ❞
  • ❝  We’re getting a chance to start over. ❞
  • ❝  Goodbye forever. ❞
  • ❝  Hey, did you know they don’t have a separate jail for cool people who fucked up? There’s just one big old jail for everyone. ❞
  • ❝  I sort of beat he shit out of him. Fucked up his life a little bit. ❞
  • ❝  I just really miss you. ❞
  • ❝  Yeah, I think about you like, all the time. Even the word “think” is wrong, because I don’t actively do anything. You’re just here. ❞
  • ❝  I’d rather fail with you, than win with anyone else. ❞
  • ❝  I love hearing you say my name. ❞
  • ❝  Okay honey, you’re on speaker phone in a police station. Be very careful what you say. ❞

weesinginglassie  asked:

Dear Wonderful Mods over here at Imagine.... I am an Outlander Fanfic junkie....I likely need a twelve step program...I stopped reading actual books (of which I used to be an avid reader) and have read nothing but Outlander Fanfic for the last year. It's what I look forward to most very day.... I also like to reread some of the older stuff. I have been desperately trying to find an older fic (can't remember the title or author)... Jamie takes Claire to the stones. 1/2

second part pf question…. they land back in 1743 and try to make the good stuff happen ie: end up married etc., but not the bad stuff. no Wentworth, no losing Faith. Meanwhile at Leoch Claire orders a beautiful sword made for Jamie from a visiting Irish swordmaker. Jealous Jamie thinks C’s spending too much time with Irishman etc… Please! Does anyone know the title to this fic and the author??? Desperate! Please and Thank you all!!!

MOD Note: None of us here at Imagone can place this, so sorry Weesinginglassie. But have some CoC as a soothe for your fanfiction addiction itch. Hope this he helps <3 


Chain of Command - Part 4

It happened very gradually, the steady increase in her size. For a while she managed to hide it effectively with just her skirts and tighter corsets. But soon it became obvious that she was going to have to procure other methods for keeping her pregnancy quiet.

Her time at Lallybroch since her brief incarceration in Inverness had been heavily guarded. Never before had Mama Crook and Brian Fraser been so intent on keeping Claire close to hand.

She’d been kept away from any activities where she was required to leave the house for more than a few moments and her duties in the kitchens had been increased tenfold.

She was under house arrest and she knew it.

Having broken the trust of her adoptive mother, Claire didn’t argue about this silent punishment but it was making her state harder and harder to conceal.

Slamming the book shut, Claire threw the heavy pages onto the floor heaving out a massive sigh as desperation took over.

“I made a vow to keep you safe, and I mean to keep that promise.” She sighed, wrapping the thick cotton around her middle to try and mute the growing swell of her belly.

She had read many pages of interesting advice on pregnancy and care of an unborn baby - but none helped her in the art of keeping it a secret.

Her forays into the underworld of abortion, even as short lived as it had been, had made her incredibly aware of the gift she had growing within her. Guilt also gripped her. She’d come too close to making a disastrous decision and the implications of that made Claire even more determined to do the best for her child - no matter what.

The bairn was precious. Not only was it a part of her, but an extension of her secret love for Jamie. Whatever happened come the birth, Claire would fight with everything she had to raise the baby. Even if that meant losing her position with the Frasers.  

As the seasons turned, the calm quiet at Broch Tuarach broke. The arrival of the MacKenzie party brought a hive of activity to Lallybroch. Ellen’s brothers, Collum and Dougal entered like a tour de force, bringing with them a few of their close relatives. It meant that Claire was snowed under with tasks - from sewing Brian’s best shirts to a constant barrage of cooking and cleaning.

Most of these activities, Claire could cope with. But one unwelcome guest filled her with unknown dread.

Laoghaire MacKenzie was a petite blonde lassie with a wide smile. Given her new house bound status, Claire could only watch through the dusty windows of the big house as the young girl followed Jamie around like a little lost puppy. She watched through wide whisky eyes as Mistress Laoghaire batted her large blue ones, flashing wide toothy smiles and adorning Jamie with sly touches here and there.

Alone in the dusk of the MacKenzie’s first week in the house, Claire slid beneath her well worn sheets, melancholia encasing her. She’d spent the day casting sorrowful glances at Jamie and Laoghaire as the pair had lunged horses in the pastures closest to the kitchen.

Claire had snuck out for an hour, excusing herself to pick herbs in the front garden but the sight of them laughing and joking together had twisted her gut and she’d rushed back inside as quickly as possible, averting her gaze from the action.

“Maybe she’s the one,” Claire sobbed, her hands shaking as they rested on her bloated abdomen, “maybe she’s who he is promised to.”

The babe was more active now, the butterflies morphing into something infinitely more noticeable. As if her unborn sensed her despair, the distinctive feeling of a palm pressed against the inside of her womb.

Holding back a sob, Claire mimicked the motion, trying to capture the hand of her baby. “Maybe,” she whispered, defeat lacing her tone, “m-maybe she’s the one he’ll marry.”

It didn’t take long for Claire to fall into a restless sleep. She tossed and turned, her toes clenching as she dreamed of what her life might be like in only a few months time.

The subtle tang of whisky invaded her senses as she curled her hand around something firm and warm, its human-like heat almost bringing her round. It wasn’t until soft lips touched hers that she jerked awake.

“Hush, Claire,” Jamie soothed, his face a blur in the dark chambers, “‘tis only me…I havena seen ye in so long, a ghraidh…” his voice held such intense longing that Claire felt bad for thinking he was anything less that committed to her. Flashes of his week with the MacKenzie’s, though, appeared before her eyes reminding her in an instant why she had a right to be afraid.

“You know I couldn’t come and find you,” she whispered, her lips seeking his as she felt his breath waft over her face, “Mama Crook has been keeping me busy.”

Jamie wasn’t blind. He had noticed the almost exasperatingly close eye Mrs Crook had been keeping on Claire. Something had happened on their trip to Inverness, he knew that much. But his Da was being annoyingly quiet on the matter.

“That’s why I had to come and see you,” he mumbled, ignoring the need to ask the question. He had a feeling Claire would be equally tight lipped about it. “I’ve missed ye.”

Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, Claire brought him closer, being careful not to expose her stomach to him - lest he notice the newly formed bump that sat in place of her usually flat belly.

“I’ve missed you too,” Claire replied, unable to hold back. “So much, b-but I know you have *duties* to attend to. I know I can’t monopolise all of your time.”

“Yes, mo nighean donn, ye can,” he interrupted, keen to ensure she knew how much he had needed her close by his side. “I’ve had t’ babysit Collum’s niece the whole week. Ye have *no* idea how infuriating the lassie is!”

Smiling, Claire immediately felt mean for being glad that he hadn’t entirely _liked_ Laoghaire’s company. The fact that he never used her name in conversation made her smile all the wider.

“Go on…” Claire begged, tipping her head to the side as she awaited a fresh kiss, “tell me what annoyed you so.”

Chuckling, Jamie ran a lone finger across Claire’s heated brow as he nudged his nose against hers. “Weel, for a start she doesna hush. She talks nonstop about the most absurd things. Baubles, trinkets and shiny things that I have no interest in.”

“But she helped you with the mares the other day, she seemed invested in that,” Claire probed, her heart lightening significantly as Jamie’s tale went on.

“Aye, she wa’ there alright, but she wasna interested in that actual job of it. The whole time I couldna help but wish it had been you out there wi’ me. You’re helpful!”

“I recall last time,” Claire laughed, energised by this turn of events, “you told me that I was a liability with the horses!”

“Ha!” Jamie scoffed, rolling his eyes in the dim blackness, “well now I know better, don’t I.”

“Good to know,” Claire returned, snuggling against Jamie’s neck as the birds began to tweet outside. Morning was coming.

Moving his hand gently down her chin, along her neck and over her collarbone, Jamie made to sneak his fingers beneath Claire’s bedsheets - needing to feel her, desperately seeking her warmth.

Claire’s heart stopped, a deep pounding rattling her bones as she hastily grabbed Jamie, ceasing his movements completely. “Not now, we can’t –not enough time,” she whispered, her mouth going instantly dry.

“Aye,” Jamie replied breathlessly, “I ken.”

She could tell that he was disappointed, and so was she. Even here, alone and cocooned in the dark of her bedroom she hadn’t the strength to tell him. Looking him deep in the eyes, she noticed the pure innocence that radiated from him. She felt a bolt of lightning shoot through her and – in that moment –  she almost told him. Almost.

But the cuckoo clock chimed upstairs, the ding of it reverberating through the floors of the big house causing the floorboards to shake.

“I haveta go, Claire,” Jamie sighed, defeated. He’d felt something change in that moment and he had been *certain* she was about to tell him something. But the chance had gone, broken by the sounds of the house beginning to wake for the day. “But I’ll see ye soon, aye?”

“Yes,” Claire answered, watching sorrowfully as Jamie disappeared back upstairs. “I’ll be here…we’ll be here…”

It wasn’t long after that the MacKenzie’s made their apologies and left - back to Leoch. With Laoghaire gone, Claire relaxed, her fears that she might be bound for Jamie’s affections fading. She could dutifully ignore everything else and the days began to bleed into one another.

Waking one night, alone, she felt her skin prickle with want, her thighs clenching as if Jamie had been there touching her.

“No,” she sighed, determined to fight the urge, “can’t…”

Sleepy as she was, she could feel desire tugging at her, its persistent voice growing only louder as she tried to force herself back to sleep.

Claire could feel him, even though she was certain that he wasn’t *actually* there.

Twisting onto her other side, her face now angled towards the door, she blinked. Her eyes opened slowly, allowing her gaze the chance to adapt to the inky blackness that surrounded her. The door remained closed.

'For the best,’ she thought, blearily. Knowing that she would have broken down – and told him everything before begging him to take her – had he appeared.

Slipping her hand between her legs, Claire calmly slid her shift aside. Temptation was too much, in the end, and she shut out the niggling doubts that whispered at her not to touch herself like this. With Jamie still close by she could ignore the depressing thoughts and focus on the more positive ones.

Brian, she’d overheard once, had often told the boys that although the bible saw it as a sin, they were better off committing acts of self gratification than getting themselves into bother with ladies and intercourse.

Taking this advice, Claire mimicked Jamie’s actions - from what she remembered of them - sneaking her palm between the crease of her legs and applying pressure to where she ached the most.

A burst of lust shot through her on first contact, and she thrust her hips, her teeth biting around her pillow in an attempted to quell the wails she so desperately wanted to unleash at the feeling.

It wasn’t Jamie, but she could imagine that it was. It was his voice that whispered in her ear. ’That’s it, Claire. Aye. Come to me, mo nighean..’

Curling her fingers, Claire gathered the growing moisture using the lubrication to stimulate her further as she wrapped herself neatly around her protruding belly.

She swore she could feel Jamie as waves of pleasure washed over her, the current pulling her under time and time again as her spine flexed and her knees trembled. Faster she moved, sweat gathering on her brow and dripping down the side of her face as she moaned soundlessly, crying out Jamie’s name as a deep throb intensified and rolled through her bones. She felt weightless, tingling beginning in her toes as her tongue peeked out from between her red stained lips.

“J-a-m-i-e…” she panted, her muscles spasming as she jerked and stilled, her body trembling with the pressure of it as she pulled in shallow breaths to remain conscious and lucid.

Claire awoke as the sun burst in through her tiny window, sleep colouring her vision as she rubbed her eyes and stretched her legs beneath the sheets. Morning. The chime of the clock brought her around fully as the telltale sign of life pounded above her.

Sunday.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. A day for church. A day for confession, if she so needed. The night before appeared behind her lids and she blinked away the memory.

She had so much to atone for, and too little time.

Grabbing the large bandages, Claire began to strap herself up, all the while being careful not to hem herself in too tightly. Her corsets felt uncomfortable now, their intricate boning jabbing her in all the wrong places as she tried to ensure her tummy didn’t look suspiciously large.

She could feel the baby flop inside her, the tiny bairn wriggling as if vocally displeased with her new living arrangements.

“I’m sorry,” Claire whispered, looking down at her now (mostly) flat abdomen, “I’m so sorry, sweet one. Not for much longer…promise.”

Following studiously behind Mama Crook, Claire filed into the pews, taking her seat behind the Fraser’s as the priest began the sermon. She didn’t hear a word. The hour passed like a blur in front of her eyes as she nervously jiggled her leg against the cold stone floor of the church.

She knew the priest, they all did. And although she knew he was sworn to secrecy - she was no less afraid to discuss this matter with him.

Someone would now know her secret.

Someone who *still* wasn’t Jamie.

That thought tugged at her heart and she felt distinctly like a scarlet woman.

Waiting quietly, Claire counted the lead lines that lay between each beautiful portrait on the stained glass windows. Images of biblical events filled her vision - the pregnant depiction of Mary being raised to the heavens by God to be the mother of his child cementing itself in her brain as she sat rigidly in the wooden seats.

She was no chosen one. Simply a girl caught in a spot of trouble.

“Claire?” Mama Crook called, waking Claire from her daydreaming, “time for ye, lass…”

Stumbling towards the confessional, Claire gripped her rosary tight. Truly she hadn’t much thought of religion. She had gone to church, confessed and prayed like everyone else but it had never been something she’d either feared or delighted in. It simply was the way of life.

Now, however, it seemed incredibly significant.

“F-forgive me, father,” Claire began, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she shifted against the cushioned seat of the confessional box, “for I have sinned…”

Talk Him into Submission

Title: Talk Him into Submission

 Prompt: @bellastellaluna : I’d love to request a Thranduil x reader anything :D.  Part of the 26 Day Birthday Celebration.

 Summary: There is one council member you can’t stand, and truthfully, neither can Thranduil, mainly because the guy just won’t shut up!  So you decide to have a bit of fun.

 Warnings: Bullshit…just, you know when you just talk out your ass??  That is the kinda stuff in here…  Also, talk and hints at dirty stuff XD

 Masterlist of Fanficiton

Originally posted by multi-fandom-imagines13

“I could do it…” You offer to your husband as he gives you a doubtful look.

“You have many skills, my love, but I don’t think even you have that much skill.”  He reached out to you and pulled you close, giving your hands a sweet kiss before nuzzling into your stomach.  You let him curl around you as he slumped out of the throne.  He loved doing this, and you loved it too, because it let you run your fingers through his hair, tease the tips of his ear, and when he has had enough…

Keep reading

dear future soulmate(s);

i am sorry if i act crazy or defensive
or if i curl up in sadness or fear
i am sorry for random outbursts & silent nights
i am sorry for being too cozy or too detached
i am sorry if i still hurt myself intentionally
i am sorry if i tell you i am fine when we both know i’m not

i am a wild card & i am depression

i forgot what happiness tasted like
so i’ll need you to kiss me every moment you have
i forgot how sunshine feels in my veins
so i’ll need you to touch me when i ask you to

i am sorry if i seem distant in another world
or when my eyes turn to glass
etch me a poem on my skin with your fingers
& i’ll melt in your touch

i am sorry if i am too needy
i have been alone for way too long
i am sorry if the bad nights are too often & the good nights too little
i am diseased with my own mind
& i can’t ever keep it together

i am sorry if it doesn’t seem i love you
but i will love you always
even when i ask to be alone to cry
or when i ask you to curl in bed with me

my love shows in many forms
even in the darkening silence, it’s there, whispering to you
you need a patient ear & an open heart
i will put every ounce of effort into you
& i do not expect it in return, for i am too forgiving & selfless

i will write you poetry & sing you to sleep
i will dream of you when i am sad & miss you when you are gone
i will protect your heart inside of mine
with no promises kept on your end

i am sorry if you say i’m not good enough this time
i am sorry if it feels like i didn’t try my best

but i promise to always try
as long as you’ll let me


twelve step program / making amends / letter eleven / final forgiveness

Late Night Walk

gif belongs to jonnyarcher

Title: Late Night Walk

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Word Count: 858

Warnings: fluff

A/N:  This was requested by @lucifer-in-leather: Could I request a fluffy Lucifer fic where the reader is walking home alone at night and he offers to walk with her to keep her company?  I hope this is okay! I hope you enjoy this! It would help me out if you could check out THIS post. It deals with the next series.

Another late shift, another walk home in the dark.  Walking home alone didn’t scare you, it was the things that could hide in the shadows that worried you.  It was hard enough knowing that demons and angels existed.  You wondered what else was out there, waiting for your guard to be down.

“Hey there,” a man spoke from behind you.

You spun around, clutching the handles of your bag.  You didn’t know this man and you had never seen him before either.  He didn’t seem friendly, and you weren’t looking to make any friends.  Especially not at night, walking down an empty street.

“I don’t really have time to talk,” you stated politely, putting on a fake smile.  “Have a nice night.”  

“Not so fast sweet thing,” the man called,out as he ran up to you.  He grabbed your arm, forcefully pulling you to a stop.  “Don’t be so rude.  I only wanted to get your number.  That way I can call you later.”  You could smell the alcohol on his breath.  

Keep reading

Elf Jokes

I once saw a high elf at a twelve step program. It’s so sad to see people fall off the wagon.

If you stabbed an elf with a spear, would that be mer to the point?

If a mer paints a self portrait, does that make it an elfie?

dear tumblr boy;

i am sorry that you read depression spilling from my fingers
i am sorry i feel tingles in my stomach when you message me

i am a mess & you are the broom sweeping me up
dusting me off & wishing me well
i am a cauldron of diseased misery & you are the silver spoon
drinking me & appreciating my bitter taste

i haven’t hurt you

/ yet /

but i might soon enough once my claws are deep in your spine
& you dream of escaping this hellhole i’ve written for you
our friendship is sacred & you are a saint
please take caution the more you get to know me
my insides are tombs & cobwebbed lies

i am sorry for letting you in [you may never get out]

but i am not sorry for meeting you
inspiration blooms from your lips
& i’ve tasted the honey oozing
you are a sweet & delicate human
& i thank you for sticking by me
when i thought everyone gave up on me


twelve step program / making amends / letter seven

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
— 

attrib. Reinhold Niebuhr (1892 - 1971) American Christian Theologian

This is a very Buddhist-sounding little Christian prayer. It is called the “Serenity Prayer” and is familiar to the many folks who participate in “Twelve Step” recovery programs such as AA and NA

Sizzy scene breakdown of Season 2 Episode 12, "You Are Not Your Own."

I know this is late and I apologize for that. The first thing that I want to bring up is that I’m going to try to break down all the Sizzy scenes that we get for the rest of Season 2 and hopefully if I have time in the future, I’ll do the same with Season 3. In this breakdown, I’m going to stop in between the dialogue or quotes and give my reaction to that particular part in the scene I’m discussing.

Please note: I would also like to bring out and for you to notice that when Izzy is in all her scenes with Simon, she is wearing red. When it comes to wardrobe on TV, the color red usually gets a callback to romance/romantic feelings and even romantic love. Just think about that as I do my best to break down all of the Sizzy scenes from this episode. If anyone wants to watch the Sizzy scenes from this episode here’s the link: https://banasiakj123.tumblr.com/post/161824366772/i-just-cant-get-enough-of-these-two-i-love-them 

I will say that the Jade Wolf scene wasn’t included so here’s another link to that: https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=rjLfWKQ9D9M 

Here’s a link to my other Sizzy breakdown from Season 2 Episode 7, “How Are Thou Fallen”: https://banasiakj123.tumblr.com/post/159832856767/sizzy-scene-breakdown-from-season-2-episode-7

Isabelle: “Simon, I got your message about Raphael. Are you okay?” Simon: “Yeah. Yeah. Living the Daylighter dream!” I just think it’s so cute that Isabelle always wonders if Simon is okay. She recognizes that Simon can’t always handle himself because he’s human. Sure, Simon is a Vampire/Downworlder but he’s more human than Vampire and the reasons why I say that is because he’s still trying to adapt as a Vampire and he’s the only Vampire that can walk out in the sun without the sun having to fry his whole body which makes him an outcast to the Vampire clan. Anyway, moving on.

Simon: “What?” Isabelle: “You got a tan. Looks nice.” Simon: “It does?” Isabelle: (laughs) 

Okay. That is definitely some low-key flirting between the two of them. Izzy is definitely checking Simon out and she definitely likes what she sees! If you look closely, Simon blushes when Isabelle compliments him on his appearance. I don’t think Simon is aware of his feelings for Izzy just yet but he will, believe me he will eventually. Notice how Isabelle at that point isn’t focused on the mission initially. She is focused on Simon and his well-being. The most important aspect of love to me is the caring of someone else’s well-being especially if it’s unconditional love. After all, you can’t have a relationship/connection with someone else if they’re dead. Let’s move on.

Izzy: “Back to Raphael. How can I help?” Simon: “So… I heard you guys were kind of seeing each other and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind doing that thing you’re really good at. You know, making a man bend to your every will. Look, if you don’t wanna get involved, I’ll find someone I get it.” Isabelle: “No, No. It’s not that.” This part of the conversation is just to show how well Simon knows Izzy and he knows her well enough. Next.

Isabelle: “It’s… When I got injured by that demon, Aldertree gave me some Yin Fen to regain my strength. But things got out of control… The reason I was seeing Raphael…” Simon: “Izzy, what is it?” Izzy: “I became addicted to Vampire venom.” Simon: “Oh. I I had had no idea. Are you-” Isabelle: (interrupts): “I’m- I’m okay. Actually, I’m… I’m great.” Simon: “Good. Okay. Good.” Isabelle: “Yeah.” Can I just say how in sync these two are with each other? Isabelle earlier asked Simon if he was okay and then Izzy tells Simon about her Vampire venom and Yin Fen addiction and the first thing that pops into Simon’s head after Izzy tells him this is if she’s okay and he’s happy to hear that she’s doing better and that she’s feeling great actually. Isabelle telling Simon about her Yin Fen addiction and Vampire venom addiction shows that she really trusts Simon. In order for any relationship to work out long-term especially a romantic one, trust and communication should be the top priorities to fulfill that purpose. Isabelle used both with Simon at this point in this scene. Not to mention, Simon is the third person to find out about her Yin Fen/Vampire venom addiction. (First was Alec and then Magnus.)

Simon: “‘Cause you know with my mom, it’s a lot of ups and downs. I’m guessing there’s not really a twelve-step program at the Institute for Shadowhunters. Um, I know a lot of really good groups.” Izzy: “Simon, I’m not a mundane. I don’t do groups, but I do fix Downworlder problems. Come on.” Simon: “No, uh I I’m good. I know that staying clean means staying away from Raphael.” Isabelle: “Who said anything about going near Raphael?” Izzy tilts her head and gives Simon this sort of flirty look after she asks: “Who said anything about going near Raphael?” Now breaking down this part of the conversation, Simon indirectly reveals that his mother was a drug addict. Anyways, Simon wants Izzy to go to group therapy sessions to help her refrain from Vampire venom/Yin Fen because Simon recognizes that just because Izzy is a Shadowhunter doesn’t mean she’s a god or that she’s invincible. Izzy doesn’t believe she’s a mundane so she wants to help Simon with his problems with Raphael. Simon adds so much texture to Isabelle’s character because he teaches her that even though she may be a shadowhunter, she is also human or mundane. Isn’t that what Maryse tells Isabelle after Isabelle tells her about her Yin Fen addiction in Episode 14 of Season 2 about putting too much pressure on Isabelle? That’s not a coincidence! And don’t answer my question, lol. Also, don’t forget that Maryse tells Isabelle to never give up on love and continue to fight for it but at that point, Izzy is still too emotional to think straight so she goes to Raphael due to the fact that they keep going back to each other but she makes the wrong decision because she has been going through a lot of stress lately. Isabelle didn’t go to Raphael initially because she genuinely liked him. She needed to satisfy her addiction and once you become addicted to something your body craves it and it needs it because your body has gotten so use to it and once you cut back, you can die a lot faster than just gradually killing yourself while being on the drug that you’re addicted to.

(Isabelle and Simon in Central Park.) Isabelle: “¡Hola Rosa! ¿Cómo estás? I brought you your favorite!” Rosa Santiago: “¡Graciás!” Simon: “Wait. So we’re giving a kind old woman tulips?” Isabelle: “Rosa, meet my friend Simon. Simon, meet Rosa Santiago.” Simon: (laughs nervously and grabs Izzy by her arm so they can talk privately): “Okay. Um, I’m all for creative anti-bullying tactics but please don’t tell me that we’re here to kidnap Raphael’s grandmother.” Isabelle: “Okay, first of all, she’s not his grandmother, she’s his sister. And no one is kidnapping anyone, okay, relax.” Rosa: “Who are you again?” Izzy: “I’m Raphael’s friend Isabelle, we came to visit you during bingo night.” Simon: “Wait, seriously Raphael plays bingo with her?” Izzy: “And he makes tomales for her every Sunday.” Rosa: “Such an attractive couple! How long you two been married?” (Both Simon and Izzy chuckle) Isabelle: “No, we’re just friends.” Rosa: “Big mistake. He’s a catch!” Simon’s face after Rosa says he’s a catch is priceless because he’s doing that to tease Isabelle. Okay if you haven’t figured it out yet, spoiler alert: Izzy and Simon get married in the future so Rosa basically foreshadowed what’s to come for Sizzy! Rosa Santiago maybe the biggest shipper on the show and is definitely the voice of the Sizzy fandom. Who would’ve thought that a Santiago would ship Sizzy romantically? When Rosa tells Isabelle that it’s wrong to view Simon as just her friend, Izzy gets this realization on her face where she is starting to realize that she has romantic feelings for Simon.

Isabelle: “Okay Romeo give me your cellphone, it’s time to send Raphael a message that if he can get to you then you get to-” Simon: “See, see um, yeah, my heart kinda goes out to the guy right now, you know?” Izzy: “Simon, save your sweet side for someone who cares, sit down.” Ironically for them, Simon will be saving his sweet side for Isabelle because she is the one that cares about it, she’s also aware that he has it because she mentions it and it’s very interesting that the writers of the show have her saying this. Simon: (to Isabelle): “Noted. Uh, Rosa can I take a picture with you?” (Rosa chuckles and nods) Simon: (chuckles) “Okay.” Isabelle: “Alright. Say cheese!”

(Simon and Isabelle at the Jade Wolf.) Simon: “How are things at the Institute?” Isabelle: “Everyone’s trying to recover. Alec is paranoid about pretty much everyone and uh (sighs) Jace is still spinning.” Simon: “About the soul sword attack?” Izzy: “That and finding out that he’s not really Valentine’s son.” Simon: “Wait. That means- That means that Jace isn’t Clary’s brother.” You can tell by Izzy’s face that she regrets telling Simon it but isn’t it interesting that Isabelle tells the secret to Simon like a girlfriend should do and not like Clary who still has lingering feelings for Jace? Now, I don’t hate Clary’s relationship with Simon because it’s important to the overall story but I’m showing the reasons why their relationship is temporary. Clary SHOULD have told Simon the truth because that would have been the way for Clary to show Simon he has nothing to worry about with Jace and her relationship with him but Simon does have something to worry about especially after the events of the Seelie Court because Clary still has romantic feelings for Jace. I feel really bad for Simon because of that though. I mean you have romantic feelings for your best friend and after so many years that same best friend returns those feelings to you and then after a while of dating and getting intimate, you find out that those feelings you thought that they had for you are actually for someone else. That REALLY REALLY sucks. Isabelle (shocked): “Simon. I thought you knew.” Now, I really love that when Isabelle is in trouble, Simon tries to go and save her and Isabelle tries to do the same thing before she is restrained when two of the Vampires restrain Simon. 

(Sizzy walking in the rain.) Izzy: “So, should I call you Daylighter? Sir Daylighter?” Simon: “Um, I think um 'your Lordship Daylighter,’ I like that best.” (They both laugh) Izzy: “The meetings you told me about, the ones your mom goes to…” Simon: “I’ll send you all the info.” Isabelle: “Hey, don’t worry about Jace not being Clary’s brother. Rosa’s right. You’re a catch.” We have Simon blushing when Isabelle says this. Isabelle telling Simon that he’s a catch is definitely flirting and that is about as much as flirting you could get out of someone without going too far. I just want to also say that I’ve never seen Isabelle smile at anyone the way that she does to Simon and it doesn’t take much for either of them to be comfortable around each other and for one to crack a joke while the other laughs. When Izzy agrees with Rosa that Simon is a catch, Isabelle is starting to embrace her feelings for Simon.

Well, that’s the end of my breakdown for the Sizzy scenes for this episode and for the record, I don’t hate Clary’s relationship with Simon or Isabelle’s relationship with Raphael, I’m just telling you what the show has shown us and why I think that those relationships are temporary. Oh, Sizzy is endgame no question! You would have to not be paying attention to them as you watch the show for you to not see it!

I finally did it. I entered the world of social media after having tried to stay away from it so long. (Read: After having been too busy to bother with it in years.) 

I’ve decided it was time to grace you all with my presence. For those who were around my age in school and therefore maybe have an inkling of who I am – hello. How are you? Did that rash ever clear up? Tell your grandmother I said good day, and I wish for more of her cookies.

As for the rest of you, the name is Kota. I swear I’m not as full of myself as I seem. I just may be on a sugar high from too many oreos. It’s an addiction, I’m sure of it. I may need a twelve step program.

/end ramble.

Abusive Feminist Bros

This comes from a profile of a type of abuser from “Why Does He Do That?” by Lundy Bancroft

MR. SENSITIVE

Mr. Sensitive appears to be the diametric opposite of the Drill Sergeant. He is soft-spoken, gentle, and supportive—when he isn’t being abusive. He loves the language of feelings, openly sharing his insecurities, his fears, and his emotional injuries. He hugs other men. He may speak out about the absurdity of war or the need for men to “get in touch with their feminine side.” Often he has participated extensively in therapy or twelve-step programs, or reads all the big self-help books, so he speaks the language of popular psychology and introspection. His vocabulary is sprinkled with jargon like developing closeness, working out our issues, and facing up to hard things about myself. He presents himself to women as an ally in the struggle against sex-role limitations. To some women, he seems like a dream come true.

So what’s wrong with this picture? Nothing obvious yet. But this is exactly the problem: Mr. Sensitive wraps himself in one of the most persuasive covers a man can have. If you start to feel chronically mistreated by him, you are likely to assume that something is wrong with you, and if you complain about him to other people, they may think you must be spoiled: “You have the New Age man, what more do you want?”

The following dynamics are typical of a relationship with Mr. Sensitive and may help explain your feeling that something has gone awry:

  1. You seem to be hurting his feelings constantly, though you aren’t sure why, and he expects your attention to be focused endlessly on his emotional injuries. If you are in a bad mood one day and say something unfair or insensitive, it won’t be enough for you to give him a sincere apology and accept responsibility. He’ll go on and on about it, expecting you to grovel as if you had treated him with profound cruelty. (Notice the twist here: This is just what an abuser accuses his partner of doing to him, when all she is really looking for is a heartfelt “I’m sorry.”)
  2. When your feelings are hurt, on the other hand, he will insist on brushing over it quickly. He may give you a stream of pop-psychology language (“Just let the feelings go through you, don’t hold on to them so much,” or “It’s all in the attitude you take toward life,” or  “No one can hurt you unless you let them”) to substitute for genuine support for your feelings, especially if you are upset about something he did. None of these philosophies applies when you upset him, however.
  3. With the passing of time, he increasingly casts the blame on to you for anything he is dissatisfied with in his own life; your burden of guilt keeps growing.
  4. He starts to exhibit a mean side that no one else ever sees and may even become threatening or intimidating. Mr. Sensitive has the potential to turn physically frightening, as any style of abuser can, no matter how much he may preach nonviolence. After an aggressive incident, he will speak of his actions as “anger” rather than as “abuse, ” as though there were no difference between the two.
  5. He blames his assaultive behavior on you or on his emotional “issues,” saying that his feelings were so deeply wounded that he had no other choice. Many people reject the possibility that Mr. Sensitive could be an abuser.

Saying the word abuse to an abusive person can be like lighting a tinderbox: When you name the unmentionable secret, he goes wild. One of my clients got loud, rolled his eyes at what a hysterical exaggerator he considered me to be, and adopted a victim stance, saying, “I beg you to stop this.” Then came the most important part: He said in a screeching whine, “I have only put a hand on a partner once in my life, many years ago, and I just barely pushed her away from me like this”—and he shoved me hard by the shoulder—“after she called my mother a sick woman.” [..]The strength of the shove he gave me would have shaken up most women. I now doubted that the assaultive incident he had described was his only occasion of physically intimidating a woman.

At this point I asked him to leave my workshop. I then had to deal with a mini-insurrection from some of the other workshop participants who couldn’t believe I was ejecting this gentle man who was so in touch with his feelings. He cries after all, how could he be abusive?

This “gentle man” style of abuser tends to be highly self-centered and demanding of emotional catering. He may not be the man who has a fit because dinner is late but rather erupts because of some way his partner failed to sacrifice her own needs or interests to keep him content. He plays up how fragile he is to divert attention from the swath of destruction he leaves behind him.

The central attitudes driving Mr. Sensitive are:

  1. I’m against the macho men, so I couldn’t be abusive.
  2. As long as I use a lot of “psychobabble,” no one is going to believe that I am mistreating you.
  3. I can control you by analyzing how your mind and emotions work. I can get inside your head whether you want me there or not.
  4. Nothing in the world is more important than my feelings.
  5. Women should be grateful to me for not being like those other men.

Abusive men will use any cover or excuse they can find, and if they are smart, they will make sure that even the most liberal crowd will believe that their victim is lying. 

My abuser used to pretend to attempt suicide when I upset him in some way, making sure to get as much attention as possible from friends/passerby while doing so, trying to make me look cruel. In private, he preferred less subtle methods of manipulation. 

.
Jackparse + Addiction

Hello friends–it’s time for a “have some goddamn sympathy for kent parson, whose life was deeply impacted by addiction at a young age jesus fucking christ people” post 

I feel like a lot of people on this website don’t have any actual understanding of or sympathy for the way that addiction inherently must have played into jack and kent’s relationship (which is you know, fine and normal if you’ve never lived with someone else’s alcoholism/addiction, but it’s time to learn some stuff friends) (at the same time i understand this may be upsetting for some people, and it’s gotten long, so it’s going under a cut) 

Keep reading

Self-Publishing - How I Did It

Hi guys, I’m May Sage and I’ve recently self-published And then, I died. It’s going quite well, so Cheyenne has invited me to write a few tips and tricks for new authors here. You’ve probably read a lot about writing and publishing your novel, so my goal is to run you through the points I couldn’t find answers to when I looked for them a few months ago, and to give you some unusual techniques I chose to use which had great results. This article should make the self-publishing journey a little easier for all of you.

Let’s attempt to explain how I got here:

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How To Finish Your Drink

I have come to believe several things about how to quit drinking. One is that AA was very interesting and helpful to me when I attended meetings in 1995 because it was comforting to see other alcoholics and to see how people who were so different could come together and express feelings and experiences that were so intimately similar.

But I don’t believe AA was useful in achieving or maintaining sobriety. It was interesting and comforting, but not of any particular use.

It’s important to understand what AA actually is. It’s not a company or an organization with a structure like that Salvation Army or Weight Watchers. It’s really composed of individuals who agree to meet at a certain place and at a certain time to listen to members discuss their experiences as drinkers and detail the problems alcohol has caused in their lives. Considering the lack of any staff or even chain of command, the meetings are remarkably similar and structured. Multibillion-dollar retail chains suffer less consistency,

But woven into the philosophy of AA are certain concepts that I feel undermine sobriety. The first is the requirement that one admit to powerlessness over alcohol. And probably, this is – along with the spiritual “higher power” aspect – one of the more frequent struggling points for those new to AA.

My problem with admitting to powerlessness over alcoholism is that it isn’t true. It was always a choice, though in the very late stage of my alcoholism, I made the choice by rote, never even considering the option not to drink. By then, it was extremely uncomfortable to be sober. Physically and mentally horribly uncomfortable.

I actually think one must assume power in order to be sober. One must not give oneself the permission to drink or relapse that the powerlessness of being alcohol’s victim provides.

Another Feature of AA is its slogans. Some, like “What you focus on grows,” are profound to a cosmological degree.

Others, however, I believe encourage drinking. “Progress, not perfection” and “relapse is a part of recovery” are two such slogans.

AA is based on submission and humility and for this reason, alcoholics keep count of the number of days, then weeks, then months, then years, they have maintained their sobriety. As with all things in which there is a score, these numbers evolve meaning. Reaching a certain number is rewarded with a token; relapsing results in forfeiting all of one’s accumulated days and starting the count from zero again.

What I don’t like about this is that the score keeping introduces an unnecessary and potentially dangerous element of currency into sobriety.

In a program based on printed text – twelve steps, printed onto posters and hung on every wall of every AA meeting worldwide – and slogans, known to most members, and frequently utilized in meetings, a statement such as, “relapse is part of recovery’ becomes something close to an instruction. But if falling short of this, it certainly implies that a lack of relapse would be out of the ordinary.

So in a way, on exists within AA knowing they will at some point drink again because to not drink would be “perfection” and to drink would be a “relapse” and “part of recovery.” The price paid would be the number of days one was willing to lose.

All of this is a great deal of time spent in the company of alcohol, even if one isn’t consuming the stuff. Drinking alcohol with your mind isn’t freedom.

Talking about alcohol every day when you can’t drink isn’t going to work for everyone.

For this reason, AA strikes me not as the cure for alcoholism, but as the next best thing to drinking and the place to bide your time safely and without judgement until you do.

What has worked for me is to find something I wanted more than I wanted to drink, which was a fuck of a lot.

This is less a decision than a discovery. And it’s for this reason that not everybody will get sober.

My view that the way to stop drinking is to stop drinking is laughably simplistic on the surface. It’s “Just say no.”

It’s also true. The way to stop drinking is to want sobriety more. And then when you feel a craving, feel the craving until it passes. But don’t act on it – any more than you wouldn’t kill somebody you feel like killing when they cut you off in traffic.

Just because you want something, doesn’t mean you have to have it.

I know how infuriating that is to hear.

Relapse is the temper tantrum you allow yourself to have when you forbid yourself from drinking.

To stop drinking, you stop drinking. You pour it out right now.

Everything else – all the books, therapies, and programs – are merely hand-holding. They all strike to accomplish the same thing: to talk you into not drinking.

I’m saying, if you want to stop, you will. But most do not want to stop enough to actually stop. And until there’s a medical fix, alcoholics will die as drunks.

To be successful at not drinking, a person needs to occupy the space in life drinking once filled with something more rewarding than the comfort and escape of alcohol. This is the thing you have to find.

You might not. Most alcoholics won’t.

The truth is that people who cannot stop drinking are the people who, however guilty they may feel and however dire the consequences, have become so addicted to the drug and the experience that they prefer it to the remainder of their lives. While they may truly want to be sober, they want to drink more.

The thought that precedes a relapse – certainly in my case and I bet in others as well – is, “screw it.” Screw it is an idiom that means, “I no longer care.”

Taking a drink is the opposite of powerlessness. It is taking firm, decisive action to terminate a state of sobriety that feels less satisfying and less convincing than drinking has felt in the past or we imagine will feel in the present. It may feel like one is powerless because it’s frustrating to be unable to authentically want the thing you really want to want. But don’t.

As a drug, alcohol is cunning. Because most alcoholics do have a measure of control over their drinking, often for many years. This changes, when it does, suddenly and profoundly. In late-stage alcoholism, the physical effects from abstinence are not only painfully uncomfortable but they can be fatal. At this stage, the alcoholic requires alcohol.

AA advertises a majority success rate. The advertisement is in the form of one of AA’s foundation documents. “Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path.” The implied efficacy brings to mind the question of, “who’s ‘we’?”

The twelve-step program is frequently the first and primary course of treatment administered for a diagnosis of alcoholism, which is medically classified as a disease. I can think of no other standard medical treatment that is supported by little or no research and offers patients no statistical information regarding efficacy.

Still, many people swear by AA and have maintained lengthy periods of sobriety within it. For these people, the spiritual foundation and community of AA provide something that is, on the whole, more satisfying for them than drinking.

I don’t believe that AA has “kept” these people sober. They have, instead, found something that has enabled them to choose a life without drinking. Many members of AA credit the program with keeping them sober; but they themselves are the reason.

They myth that alcoholics are powerless and unable in any way to shape the outcome of their addiction is a fatal, deeply untruthful message. No alcoholic should ever feel powerless over alcohol.

Those who die were not powerless. They either chose alcohol or they slid passively into the inevitable outcome of drinking; they made a decision by choosing to take no new action. And it’s this choice that results in death.

That there exists a medically recognized disease that is typically treated through twelve-step programs that are based on vague supernatural components is shocking to me. If breast cancer or leukaemia were treated in such a medieval fashion, there would be riots.

Ultimately, the treatment for addiction – until and if there is a successful medication – resides within the addict. You can’t spend time waiting for rehab to ‘work’ or for something to ‘fix’ you. These things can – and do – inspire you or encourage you.

You don’t need to take action to stop drinking. Drinking is an action: pouring the vodka into the glass, raising the glass to your lips.
To stop drinking, all you have to do is sit.
In 100 percent of the documented cases of alcoholism worldwide, the people who recovered all shared one thing in common, no matter how they did it:
They didn’t do it.

They just didn’t do it.

You absolutely can stop drinking today, right now.

The question is only, do you want to be sober more than you want to drink? Very few people can answer this question truthfully and reply, yes.

I hope you’re one of them. Maybe you are.

I didn’t think I was.

- Augusten Burroughs