#I am really really excited to be able to do things again

[blades-edge]

False God | Chapter 1

Chapter Summary: Cooper tries to fill the hole in his heart by drowning himself in you.

Pairing: Pre-War!Cooper Howard x f!escort!reader

Chapter warnings: mentions of depression, angst, joking about cowboys in a sexy way ig??, thigh touching, alcohol consumption, brief allusions to masturbation (m)

Words: 3k

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my Cooper fic! I am so excited I was finally able to finish it and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 Link

Cooper had grown used to the emptiness of his apartment. It was significantly smaller than his mansion in Los Angeles. He missed his garden and being able to spend hot summer days in the sun, enjoying a drink while he watched Janey play with Roosevelt. 

The divorce wasn’t kind to him. When the entire process had first started, he had been trying to play it cool. Keep his composure, go on with his life as if nothing had happened – but that just didn’t work for him. His job used to be his anchor, but even that was a thing of the past now, considering that barely any studio wanted to affiliate themselves with a Vault-Tec sympathiser. None of them knew what he did after all. He didn’t even want to know what would happen if he brought the things he knew – or at least assumed about Vault-Tec – to the press and therefore to the public. Maybe everyone would call him crazy on top of it all.  

But he couldn’t really risk his own life and more importantly Barb and Janey’s just to maybe have a chance at bringing an evil company down. If anything Barb had told him about the Vaults were true then he hoped that she and Janey would be safe when the bombs will fall. It wasn’t a question of ‘What iff’ for him anymore. He knew it would happen sooner or later. Somehow, he seemed to know it in his bones. And the political situation wasn’t really making him feel more positive about the whole ordeal.

In all the sitcoms and movies, they never seemed to talk about the emptiness one could feel after a divorce. His new apartment seemed empty despite the new furniture. The only beacon of hope he had was Roosevelt, but even the food from his fridge didn’t seem to taste the same. Cooper hadn’t been heartbroken since he finished High School. He never had the time for it and his marriage had eventually been just as he had always dreamed as a child. Barb and him rarely argued. Until it all slowly came to an end. Coop didn’t know how to live on his own anymore. 

He was surviving off a few small gigs at parties, always donning his iconic cowboy outfit. Of course, he wasn’t oblivious to the whispers behind his back. 

‘Look what he has to resort to now..’

‘That is Cooper Howard?’

Cooper tried to shut all their voices out of his head. He had enough to worry about already. Paying his aliments to Barb, paying his rent, trying to stay afloat – somehow. 

If his days were lonely, all of his nights spent alone seemed to be even worse. That’s where he had time to think and he didn’t want to think about everything that was going on around him. His cigarettes and the whiskey stored in his fridge quickly became his best friends during all those lonely nights. But they still didn’t fill the gaping hole he seemed to carry in his chest. Everything felt meaningless. Life was only a combination of small moments anymore. 

All the good moments he had were the days with his daughter, but there was nothing else that could really make Cooper feel happy or fulfilled. 

He craved the feeling of waking up next to a woman again. To feel her kiss him in the morning and to touch her body. This almost reminded him of how he felt as a green teenager, when he had only dreamed about having someone at his side. 

It wasn’t really a surprise to him that his hand didn’t feel the same as a woman’s touch did. Gosh, he even rummaged through a few boxes to pull up old pornographic holo-tapes, but even those didn’t really do it for him anymore. At least now how they used to in the past. 

His next decision was really a manifestation of his desperation. 

Coop stared at the newspaper on his kitchen counter. There were several ads on the page and one of them was able to offer just what he wanted. He took a deep breath, staring at the phone on his wall and then turning his gaze back to the number on the paper. 

His last gig had paid rather well and he thought that calling a sex worker might fill the hole in his chest for just a few hours. A few years ago, he could have never imagined going this far, but… he was lonely – and desperate in a way. Sex would take his mind off things and give him enough of an illusion for one night. More than the whiskey could. 

“It’s worth a try...” He mumbled to himself and then started to type the number into his phone. 

Business had been quiet the last few days. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint why that might be, but you were glad when a call came in eventually. Sex work wasn’t really something society seemed to be proud of, but you knew the numbers of lonely men that called your and other women’s numbers were significantly higher than most people would expect. 

It wasn’t just you working here. Multiple women operated under the “Sweet Nights” brand. You were just a small part in the great scheme of things. 

Your work certainly paid enough for you to entertain a decent, but not overly luxurious life in Los Angeles. Your small apartment was nothing compared to the big mansions up in Beverly Hills. Yet it was enough. 

The red lipstick stood in contrast to your black dress, correcting its straps around your shoulders as soon as Jimmy, the manager of “Sweet Nights”, informed you of your next client. This would be the first and the last for your day, considering that it had been a pretty quiet week night for everyone. On the weekend, calls were more much frequent and you could sometimes do three clients in one day. 

Every girl here had different prices. You were somewhere in the middle. Most middle-class men were able to book you, but sometimes, a man wanted to take you out for more than just sex for which you were able to demand a higher price. If you were honest, you preferred that to the simple act of offering sex and then leaving again. You certainly didn’t want to turn down a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant which was probably the best part your job had to offer. 

“Is Alan going to drive me?” You asked. Alan was the driver you had worked with the most so far. He was always in a good mood and often enough, he even lifted yours as well. You would share a cigarette or two before or after a client and he’d sometimes even drive you bring some food for you to enjoy after work. Alan was probably your best friend in this business, if you thought about all the people you’ve encountered so far. You got along well with some other women in here as well, but you couldn’t call those intimate friendships. 

Sustaining a relationship was also not an easy task given the nature of your job. So far, you hadn’t really been that lucky to find a man accepting of your situation, but you were of the firm belief that you could never know what was going to happen in the future. 

“I think so. You still have half an hour, so take it slow.” Jimmy was always kind to you as well, but he did have the attitude of a businessman. Nothing made him more happy than seeing the cash flow in and while you were always on time and working hard, you had seen him treat other women differently – especially the ones that weren’t on time and not bringing in a lot of money. 

You had been working at the “Sweet Nights” establishment for multiple years, so you had generated a few regular clients with time. For a man like Jimmy, there was rarely anything better. It meant a steady cash flow and for you, it meant being able to spend time with people you already knew in a way and they usually didn’t make you uncomfortable at all. However, getting attached was strictly forbidden. You didn’t want to breach the border between your professional life and your private one. 

Jimmy took his leave rather quickly then, leaving you to your preparations. You made sure to take your birth control before you were heading out, not wanting to risk forgetting it on accident if you were to stay the night at the client’s. 

Alan was already waiting for you at the door when you made your way to the car. “Hello, beautiful,” he greeted you, placing a small kiss on the back of your hand before he helped you into the passenger seat of the black car. 

Soft jazz music was playing through the radio as you drove to the client’s apartment. It wasn’t too far away from the “Sweet Nights” establishment as you were able to arrive there in under ten minutes. The apartment block in front of you looked simple and it made you quite certain that your client was probably part of the middle class. You had been to fancier homes, but it felt good to be able to ring a bell without going through two security checks on your way inside. 

Alan always took his time to wait until you were safely inside. There had been a few times where a client didn’t open the door and your friend drove you home instead. 

But this wouldn’t be one of those nights. 

When you pushed against the door, it opened for you. You turned around briefly to wave goodbye at your driver, before heading up the stairs to the apartment on the second floor. The sound of your high heels echoed off the beige walls and as you looked up the staircase, you could already see a man waiting by the apartment door. 

You always tried to meet your clients without any specific expectations towards them, but when the man came fully into view, you could feel your heart skip a beat. This wasn’t just any man. This was Cooper Howard. 

Ex-Movie Star and a new favourite topic in every local gossip magazine. You had read about his divorce as it was almost impossible to avoid the matter these days. Additionally, you were pretty sure you had seen just about every movie he had ever starred in. 

“Good evening,” you greeted him, the smile coming to you quite easily as you thought of the fond memories you had from watching his movies. Cooper extended his hand to you almost immediately, shaking it in a gentle manner. “Good evening to you too. Feel free to come inside.” His smile was a polite one as he stepped to the side and let you in. 

His apartment clearly wasn’t anything you expected from America’s most famous cowboy, but you knew times were probably a bit rougher for him now. There were a few paintings along the hallway wall, but the interior was nothing fancy. It wasn’t cheap either, but your job had brought you to many Hollywood mansions before and this apartment didn’t have even the slightest resemblance to any of them. 

Cooper walked past you slowly. After so many years of working as an escort, you could tell that this was his first time. He looked a little lost, shy even. You were not here to judge about it though, you were here to make him feel good. 

“Would you like something to drink? Wine perhaps?” You followed him into the kitchen, watching him as he let his hands restlessly move over the edge of the kitchen island. His face was still displaying the same smile he had greeted you with, but there was clearly a nervousness to his eyes. They were frantically moving from the counter to you and back again. 

“Wine is good. I don’t really have a preference,” you assured him with a smile, leaning against the other side of the counter. He gave you a quick nod before he looked for two wine glasses and searched through a small cupboard to retrieve a new bottle for you both. 

When the two glasses were filled, you leaned forward a little, supporting yourself against the counter as you looked at the man with a smirk. Cooper pushed your glass over to you, pointing at the living room next door then. “How about you… join me on the couch?”

His voice sounded strained and his hold around the glass seemed a little concerning for its fragility, but you didn’t hesitate to give the movie star an approving nod. “I would love to, Mr Howard.”

You could tell he tensed up a little at the mention of his name, so you quietly took note of that. 

“Call me Cooper,” he offered, leading you into the small living room. While he sat down on the far left end of the couch, you didn’t bother to sit down on the opposite end. Instead, you got comfortable right next to him, a quick invitation that he could touch you if he wanted. 

And Cooper did want to. But his mind was clouded with many things. This experience was completely new to him, but you were absolutely gorgeous in that black dress and he was very curious to see what was underneath it. He was only a man too after all, but–

You clinked your wine glass against his and he was pulled back into the reality of things. His eyes drifted over your body, a hint of longing appearing in them and you could feel yourself smile a little more at that. Cooper wasn’t showing you disinterest, but you could feel the insecurity inside him. 

This job brought you close to many different people and you would be a fool to assume that Cooper wasn’t struggling with the divorce. This wasn’t a rare scenario at all – many men were asking for your services when they wanted to fill the hole left behind by their beloved wives.  

While you took the first sip from your wine, you made sure to keep eye contact up with Cooper. It was enough to send a cold shiver down his spine and let his free hand claw at the arm rest of the couch. 

He took a sip from his drink as well, before placing the glass down on the small table in front of him. 

His lips parted for a moment, ready to form words, but you were quick to place a hand on his arm. Just a gentle touch. Not too much if he didn’t want it yet. “I know this is your first time. I can tell. And… we can do it all in whatever pace you’d prefer.” 

For a moment, the man seemed a little surprised by your words, but his expression quickly changed to a softer one. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m–”

What was he even trying to say? Cooper didn’t want to come across as an inexperienced teenager or the like, but he also didn’t want to seem too desperate. Even though he was. His body was clearly desperate. 

“It’s alright.” Maybe a little bit of light conversation might help him, so you took the time to let your eyes wander over his appearance. His brown hair was brushed back neatly and it definitely looked like he had shaved this morning. There was a simple, but beautiful ring adorning his finger, but you were sure it was not his former wedding band. His beige pants and the dark blue sweater were a lot more casual than your own outfit, but you had always been sure that Cooper Howard would look good in anything. 

Would his movies be a good topic to start with? Tell him that you were a fan? 

“I’ve loved your movies for years, you know?”

The look in his eyes changed. His curiosity seemed to give way to disappointment and hurt. Probably the wrong topic. Too sensitive or too personal. 

Your throat seemed to tighten and you were ready to apologise when Cooper interrupted you. 

“Isn’t it a strange thought that… I’m now asking you to have sex with me in a way?” His eyebrows were pushed together in confusion and you didn’t know how to answer at first. 

Of course, it wasn’t what you had expected, but saying you were displeased with the idea would be a lie. 

“No. It’s exciting, actually. Maybe cowboys have always been my thing.”

Cooper’s laugh was quite infectious. He had a big smile, a beautiful one too. His shoulders seemed to relax a little and he eventually put an his arm on the couch behind you. 

“What’s the saying? Save a horse, ride a cowboy?” His voice had grown a little deeper and while you were still able to watch his right hand hold tightly onto the arm rest next to him, a little bit of doubt had probably left him. 

You decided to weigh in on that. 

“I would never say no to a man like you, of course. Definitely worth saving that horse.” 

Another laugh. 

For the first time in a while, the harmless banter seemed to clear his mind off a few worries. Yes, it was a sensitive topic, but you approached it with enough ease that it didn’t seem all that awful anymore to Cooper. 

His left hand eventually moved down to your thigh, gently holding onto it as he searched for your eyes again. 

And before you could really think a lot about it, you kissed the former movie star, maybe a little too eager. 

Yet he was all for it. Your lips felt like a relief he hadn’t experienced in a long time and as he leaned in for more, he was certain that if nothing else could drown out the worries in his mind, your lips would surely be able to quiet his thoughts – even if it was just temporary. 

[yannaryartside]

I am tired of Sydney being a “knight in shining armor” for these immature men

The trailer of s3 made me reflect on a big problem with the show for me so far. The use of Sydney on the plot overall and in the character arcs of men. This is a rant, if you happen to be on the side of the fandom that think these men are perfect and Syd is valued as their support, feel free to scroll.

Part 1: the woman

Sydney Adamu is insecure on her leader/social skills and her creative habilities. That, and her kindness, is what makes the audience root for her. She is releatable but most important she is real, she has taken it impulse by impulse, creating on the fly ways to succeed in a industry not very welcoming to people with her personality (or that look like her). All of that makes sense in a story of an underdog.

But yet, the show has normalized at this point how much shit she takes from a group of really emotionally immature people. And how much they expect her to figure it out answers to the problems that they themselves cause.

Thinking about it like an animal getting into a new pack without the capacity to defend herself from any attack. The shitshow she tolerated in s1 has never been properly addressed and it seems like the worst storm is yet to come in s3. She fixed the logistics of the beef and implemented a hierarchy. Things that Carmy was incapable of doing due to his story with the staff and his own mental turmoil. In s2, she was the only professional chef actively making decisions and efforts in the future of the restaurant. Carmy even reprimanded her for not making the decisions he was supposed to do. And she reminded him “you wanted the final say, this is on you)

Syd is not helpless in any way, but she has applied kindness and fairness most of the time to this point, and I wonder if this time that is gonna cut it. I am mostly tired to get her back to that scenario again. If anything, the part that got me the most excited of Richie’s redemption is how she could actually rely on him. And then it came the trailer.

Part 2: the men

The part that got my blood boiling in the trailer is the response “Show me a functional one” from Richie and Carmy.

We are in season 3, and with all the growth and all those balls, these men seem to expect her to fix an issue, wich core is actually their own emotional immaturity. I am sick of it. “Mother, maid, therapist”🎶

She must deal with Carmy’s recklessness and the fight between him and Richie. A very green new staff and a unqualified old staff mostly. All of that creates the dysfunctionality in question, and I wonder where her character will go to resolve it. The restaurant had a shaky base (particularly on front house staff and line cooks) and now Carmy is getting on everyone’s nerves. Putting fire to an already unstable chemical.

Part 3: Heroine’s Journey

It would take a pro to resolve all of this shit, and the people involved (and responsible for the problem) turn to this young, inexperienced woman for guidance and answers because the only person in the kitchen with actual industry experience is trapped in his own destroying tendencies.

That is not only the underdog story that is human vs forces of nature, another common plot structure. Forces of nature incarnated in unstable men and our hero is a woman. That is so fucked up and yet so real. That is the value I give to this scenario.

I really don't think that, besides Tina and Nat, there is a single member if that kitchen aware of how much Syd was alone last season picking Carmy’s slack. And even they were barely able to help her. Everybody else was to happy for Carmy loosing his virginity apparently. All this scenario could very well repeat itself this season on how much they are insisting on Claire and Carmy getting back together.

I know the show is about leaving toxic cycles and the people who can help you get better. Sydney is supposed to be made from a different matter than the Bearzattos because otherwise, the toxicity will continue. I just wish she could coldly let them know how much of a pest they can be sometimes. And not be treated as unfair because she left her “role” in creating a new system. Anger is boundarie setting emotion and it can be very constructive, and expressed without the chaos of the Bearzattos. She did this in s1 and if done again I think this time the general audience (except the racist/misogynistic obviously) will understand that this tough love is necessary as well.

Let's not normalize (in this show) women taking shit to be good women and a reward for seeing the potential of men. It is not like society is not doing that for us already.

Sydney is not a punching bag, and she knows it, she definitely will stand her ground this season, wich can be very encouraging to young woman entering a workforce that is not designed to support them. I think she will go to Ember to work closely with Chef Terry (Olivia Coleman) to get knowledge of how women can shape this toxic places. It will be her version of forks. The toxicity may escalate to a turning point for her. She tolerated (and transformed) s1 and s2, we know what is in her heart. The point will definitely come, because this is the time for evolving or dying, for everyone.

But again, I need these men (besides you, Marcus, you are going to be her rock) to start taking responsibility for the shit they are fucking up. That would be nice. I am sure there will be moments of it since this growth is literally the show's theme. I am just kind of tired of the “Mother, maid, therapist🎶” undertone of it all. It could be applied to Nat and Tina as well.

[losersside]

##polin socmed au Paris🇫🇷

It amazed Colin. Being able to watch Penelope so carefree roaming the streets of Paris. She seemed in her natural element, a glass of red wine in her hand and surrounded by the books in the yard sale she was carefully perusing.  She raised her head from the books and looked at him beaming, she probably had managed to translate a word she didn't know in French. Perhaps based on context, maybe not even that. Penelope seemed to be made of words. So attuned to them and always diligent and tender with the syllables, carefully wrapping her lips through the sounds. Even right now as she stumbles her way through French talking to the guy at the yard sale. He gets close to them. Penelope seems to be bargaining in broken French. A small smile forms on the man's lips at the girl trying to get this already discounted book for even less. Colin does not fault him, truly, she is scrunching her nose at the clear negative response to her bargaining attempts, how could you not smile?

“Come on, Pen. We have dinner reservations” he looked at her disappointed frown forming as he spoke. She glanced at the books in front of the yard sale men and then back at him again.

“Colin, I almost got him” Her whisper was accompanied by a look of determination on her face, the thing is that Colin had witnessed the whole interaction and she most likely did not almost have him.

Colin chuckled, “Ok, you most definitely are not gonna convince this French man to sell you ten books for 10 euros”

“Yes, I am” She raised her voice slightly but you could still hear the amusement in it. She was just playing. Colin could not help but smile big and bark a laugh.

“Ok, this is what we are going to do. I’m going to be the most amazing friend of all time and pay for your books”

“Absolutely not” She scrambled towards him.  He, however, couldn't stop his grin from turning smug as he reached into the front pocket of his jeans for his wallet. “Come on, Pen. I am but a third son. However, I think I can manage 20 euros” It was impossible not to look at her fondly as she rolled her eyes at him, the hard lines of her frown disappearing into her soft features and a slight twitch in the corner of her mouth threatening a smile.

The man at the yard sale’s face softened looking at them as they paid. Colin didn't think he was used to scamming tourists but It’s not every day that a tiny blonde heckled you into trying to get a half-price discount. Colin turned to Pen, she was sheepishly looking at her phone trying not to seem overly excited by the stack of books currently being put away in a rather big fabric bag. When he finally caught her eye he was met with a beaming smile illuminating her face.

The restaurant was small. It seemed rustic in an explicit French way. The lighting was dim and the walls were covered in mirrors. Colin was positive that the black metal bistro chairs would leave the wicker weaving marks in the back of Penelope’s thighs, the short black dress she wore ensured him of it. It rode softly up her legs when she sat.

He looked at her profile through the mirror-covered walls. The curve of her nose absorbed him, her pale skin littered with freckles, and the subtle redness where her nostril met her cheek peaking through worn out separating makeup. He seemed to be in a trance

“You didn't have to do it, really” Her smile was soft and kind as she spoke. Her eyes, crystalline blue, seemed to glow darker in this restaurant's light. It made him wonder how many different ways there were to see her and in how many ways he hadn't been able to do so.

“Hey, don't thank me. Thank Eloise. She was the one that thrust you into this trip under the pretense of you being off”  A look of defeat washed over her face accompanied by a tired sight.

“I fucking hate that. You guys don't have to care of me. You know that, right?”  And he knew that. He just wanted to.

“Eloise just cares about you”

“And I know that. It’s just…” She exhaled trying to form the words in her head. She was looking down, her hands playing with the cloth napkin. “I was off this summer. Truly off.” She suddenly searched for his gaze. It drew a sharp breath out of him. “I told you. It wasn't just that I stopped talking to you. It was everything. The substack… It blew up. And the essay that went viral was about my mother.” A small sad laugh came out of her at the mention of her mother. “And then I got a book deal because of my substack and I guess now  I can't say my mother never got me where I am.” She laughed at this. It started small and rather sarcastic but quickly grew. Placing a delicate hand over her mouth it began a full-body laugh that Colin could not help but mirror. It was probably born out of desperation. He knew her mom. He knew how Penelope felt about her. They loved each other. Colin knew that but couldn't fully describe their love. He was used to unconditional love. A reliable love unafraid to be shown no matter the circumstances. But Colin saw how Pen was raised. Portia seemed colder. He didn't notice it at first. As a young boy, his mom seemed smothering and overbearing but he did notice the small light in Pen’s eyes when his mother hugged her tight at a function, Portia far away from her. And that was it. Portia was distant. She kept Prudence and Philippa closer, maybe they were easier to manage, or maybe she believed they needed more help. Penelope had always been far too witty for her years. That's what drew Eloise to her. Hell! That's what drew him in. And she had them, “The Bridgertons”. Portia never seemed to understand her youngest daughter's relationship with his family. Portia never saw her. Portia never saw 16 year-old Penelope obliterate Anthony at trivia the first time Eloise dared to invite her to game night two years after meeting the girl. At first, she seemed scared, Anthony was 25 and the sorest loser you could possibly meet. But then his whole family rallied behind her in favor of defeating the big bad, Benedict even whispering some of the answers to art questions she seemingly didn't know. The cheeky smile that appeared on her face as she was biting down a nothing but smug grin made the Bridgertons understand Eloise’s fondness.

Their laugh quieted down. “Anyways, everything with writing became too overwhelming. Which is not the best when suddenly you are gifted with magazine articles and a huge book deal.” He knew she didn't take those opportunities lightly. How could he not know when she was pouring her heart out in a classic but dingy restaurant in Paris. It just felt weird. He looked at her again. The waiter was taking too long. They probably saw them enraptured in conversation. Colin could use some wine.

“S'il vous plaît” His hand shot up catching the attention of a waiter who quickly approached them taking their order.

“Colin, are you okay? Perhaps it was too much”

“No” he quickly interrupted her. He wouldn't let her spiral. But he didn't know what to say. Something felt entirely different. He looked at himself in one of the mirrors. Had he always looked at her with such fondness? He couldn't bring himself to look at her, his eyes now fixed on the entirely too expensive red wine they just ordered. “It's different here, Is it not?” Their eyes met. She nodded a sense of understanding deep in her baby blues. “Here, almost everything feels like it's melting like fondue if you think about it.” She chuckled biting her lip and trying to stop the laugh. It wasn't that funny of a comment. But he didn't have it in him to be serious, entirely too afraid of what would happen if he was.

“I get it” She always did. It's like Eloise said, they always understood each other better than anyone. In all honesty, he knew Eloise came to hate the mischievous look they would give each other as she spoke. The quiet laughs they intimately shared on the table at dinner when someone would make the mistake of letting them sit together at dinner. Colin also knew he wasn't Penelope’s dearest friend, that would be his sister of course, but he didn't know when Penelope became his center. He came home to London with this trip far away in his mind. He came home from London lost. He felt lost without a single email from Penelope, without being able to come from the airport and drop by her flat unannounced cause of course he missed her even with the constant back and forth; texts, emails, facetimes, calls.

He held her gaze unable to answer her. He didn't think she got it. She looked at him blue eyes nervous, restless given his silence. Her hand moved slightly on the table knocking over her wine glass.

“Oh my god” She moved away from the liquid spilling. Colin quickly got to her side of the table carefully trying to wipe the liquid with one of the white cloth napkins. He looked at her and their eyes met. Faces barely inches apart. Something was dizzying about her shallow breaths, about the rise and fall of her chest constricted by the neckline of her dress. Her plush lips were rosy, they still held some remnant of her lipstick worn out from the day but the center seemed a tad redish perhaps from the wine. They looked kissed. Colin didn't know how to feel about this.

“Oh, please sir, let me” A waiter had made his way over here and was trying to clean the spilled wine.

When he left Penelope laughed, this time completely carefree throwing her head back. Colin realized he couldn't help but smile, genuinely smile, at this. God, he loved seeing her like this.

“I'm a fucking mess”

“Yeah, but until this trip is over you’re my fucking mess”

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

[tj-crochets]

It's weird question time again! More detail below a read more, but short version: Do any of y'all with POTS/dysautonomia have any advice for how to do headstands and/or handstands safely? Besides "don't"? I know handstands are probably a no-go, but with a headstand I figure I'm already on the ground, I can't fall down

So the other day I did a few headstands and it genuinely felt like it helped a bit with my blood pressure issues. I mean, it's kind of impossible to tell yet if it actually helped or if I was just so excited to be able to do something like handstands again that I just felt better, but it was nice! I want to do more headstands but my dad is concerned I will end up falling and hurting myself. Some (mostly relevant) backstory: I got POTS when I was a teenager because I got sick and had what I think is called post viral syndrome. It's been more than a decade. I still have POTS. The first year or so was bad, then I had like a year, year and a half "intermission" where I was doing extremely high intensity exercise several days a week* and mostly doing okay POTS-wise. Then I moved, got metaphorically hit over the head with severe allergies, and got abruptly way sicker. Right before I moved and started getting sicker, I started learning how to do handstands. I got to the point where I was somewhat decent, and then had to stop, because I was dizzy enough sitting still that trying to be upside down was a bad idea. Now, I am extremely excited that I might get to start getting back to that again. It's like when I started being able to hit a punching bag again; like, sure it's five minutes like twice a month instead of like two hours two or three times a week, but still!! It's a hobby I thought I'd never get to do again!!!! Sure, it's not handstands and I can't progress from headstands to walking on my hands, which was my original goal, but it's a step in the right direction! My dad is really worried I'm going to fall over, though. I do have a uh...very extensive training, both accidental and on purpose, in How Not To Fall and also How to Fall Without Getting Hurt, from a combination of childhood clumsiness, musical theater, martial arts, and my mom having taught both kickboxing and self-defense throughout a large chunk of my childhood, so I'm not concerned about falling, but I tend to respect his opinion on things like this (he's a former EMT). Do you have any advice on how to practice headstands safely, especially for people with POTS? *first dance rehearsals for a musical like 3-4 hours a day 6 days a week for a few weeks, then a form of martial arts my dad saw one sparring day and called "brutal but very effective" lol

[prezs]

been wanting to make a new one of these for several reasons and am very proud of myself for having finished without issue :)

[kyouka-supremacy]

( •_• )

[cosmojjong]

.

[digirainebow]

i didn't think jacob would be arguing with olivia, wanting it almost as much as her. what the hell. i expected the self defeated, taking one for the team attitude but actively needing it like her? when he had been trying to stop her all night? i feel like i've been blasted by a buckshot

[delta-piscium]

Trying? Trying??? By learning. By succeeding!

(about this and my text under the cut)

this is very nice actually thank you so much <3 <3 and like, i probably do need to give myself more credit in general but also i am still very much learning and stumbling and figuring digital art out (and for the most part it is so fun)

I’m gonna ramble about this a bit so bear with me and also i apologize lol, but that art was done after a month of getting increasingly more frustrated with everything turning out so badly and eventually realizing that I was trying to 1. copy a certain look/style that i’ve internalized is what fanart and digital art should look like and is very far away from my style/comfort zone 2. i was trying to do everything digital allows without being comfortable with it or understanding it

so (and this took me a month to realize ? ??) i did what i already knew from doing acrylic and oil painting in the past and could somewhat easily transfer to digital without having to know more than the basics, like i didn’t use a lot of the things digital provides or allows for. i used layers for my own peace of mind but without actually needing them and did some color adjusting (honestly, the color adjusting digital lets you do is such a blessing to me) but the only fancy way i really utilized the medium was making it a gif (which is so fun and a lot easier than i would have thought, like honestly watch me make any future art into gifs too) but there are so many things you can do with the medium with settings/effects, different brushes, tools to use in the process etc that i just do not understand what they are or how to implement them so i am very slowly learning digital art as a whole new medium rather than just being able to use it to adapt what i already know

[camellcat]

every day I wish I started moffat's run without looking online first and absorbing all the hate he gets bc I do not know what is my opinion that I would've came to on my own and what I've simply seen others say that stuck with me and clouded my perception going in

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

argh. i sorely miss writing as much as i used to, but the flow of it feels all wrong since i started having to do it exclusively on mobile and it sucks. maybe it's just time-and-distance-from-old-works goggles, but it feels like there's a noticeable difference for the worse since my hands went fuck and i hate how clumsy my writing looks to me now.

granted, maybe part of that is because i haven't written nearly as much in a long time and i just need to get back on the horse and shake off some rust, but man. doesn't feel good. i miss keyboards so much. :(

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[elytrafemme]

spoke to my father over lunch about my future, the field of psychology & neuroscience, advocacy law, etc. and i’m honestly beginning to seriously look into being a professor, most likely of psychology. because what i’ve been grappling with a lot lately is an interest to go into clinical psychology, but also the fact that while doing that may leave me time to pursue research endeavors, i may lack time to actually pursue the ethics of the field of psychology & psychiatry. which as we all know, there are so many ethical problems with how psychology runs currently, the DSM-5 is a disaster, my father (bless him) is going to get me an autobiography about someone who was misdiagnosed six different times under the DSM-4 (iirc?). like there are so many things i want to tackle rather than just sitting there and upholding the system; there’s a lot of good in therapy but ideally i would want to be a therapist who actually seeks to change systemic problems.

i think the ideal future for me, honestly, would be if i could juggle being a therapist, a professor, and a lawyer all at once. whether i can actually do this is unlikely because that requires (1) having the ability to get all those degrees which would cost so much money and (2) having the fucking time to do any of this, while working a job, which would get me that aforementioned money. so i don’t think this is actually plausible, but like. 

being a college professor sounds like a good lifestyle i think. be it for political science (which i’m still thinking about in terms of lifelong prospects) or for psychology, i would find that interesting. i am just wondering how i can adapt law into this so i can challenge some ethics constitutionally or within the field of psychology, because i know for certain i can only do one of those two if at all. 

i don’t know. i’ve just been thinking about it. we’ll have to see where this all goes. 

[giantkillerjack]

Gods I'm so glad I have the power to draw stupid ridiculous things. I've had two ideas in the last week for art pieces that made me cackle like a little gremlin for 30 minutes. And already, my decision to follow through on these ideas has been a great success!

It is very important to feed the silliness gremlin!!! Ze offers gifts of happiness and naturally occurring self-improvement! Should ze wither from lack of food, so shall artistic motivation and the joy I find in my craft!

So you see, it is absolutely vital that the gremlin be allowed to thrive and grow on a steady supply of shitposts and profoundly ridiculous pornography.

This will, in turn, help with my depression - making this fake isekai cover as well as this very dumb video game porn I just made into Medical Necessities, Actually. 😌😤🤡

[falderaletcetera]

found something cool on the beach yesterday. I like to go for night-time walks to clear my head and get a look at the stars, and I'm lucky enough that there's a beach within walking distance (and that it's a pretty safe neighbourhood). so picture four in the morning, less than half a moon but bright for it, high-ish tide, and I've stepped down onto this pebbly seaweedy beach to nudge at what I assumed was a toy pumpkin.

it was reddish orange, about the right size. something odd about the shape though.

and it was metal. bowling-ball sized, with a hole clean through it (no sharp edges, it must have been shaped that way) and impressive scratches that had clearly been painted over. and it was light enough to lift as well as having probably washed up there, so, hollow.

I ended up staring at it for maybe five minutes trying to decide whether to move it, where to (tripping hazard), and whether I wanted to keep it. "things salvaged from ships" is an entire genre of decoration here (pubs are one of the biggest offenders) ((I fucking love it)) and it could look pretty cool with... a rope through it? some sort of knot? a doorstop or a garden decoration?

(to be honest it appealed to my sense of humour that what I normally take home from beaches is stones with holes through them. we get a lot of them, and they're meant to be lucky. and they're easier to store when I'm still dithering over how to use 'em. they make nice gifts sometimes.)

I didn't keep it. but the internet's a cool enough place sometimes that I could search "hollow metal ball washed up on beach" and get an answer - it's a trawler net weight, and I read elsewhere that they do come in different sizes.

and wreck and salvage law is apparently this whole messy thing that may or may not apply - technically yes, but this is probably way too small to bother with, which I think might be an actual legal thing - so if I find one again...

it's not like this happens often, anyway. and I'm just delighted to have been surprised.

[8bit-mau5]

everyone who loves opal is right btw