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dollypopup · 1 day

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I can't stop thinking about Colin on his travels. Colin, alone, on a journey to 17 different cities, across several countries. Colin on his own.

Colin who writes letter after letter, to his family, to his friends, and barely gets a response back. How long before he understands that they didn't get lost in the mail? How long until he realizes that, just like when he was a boy, no one has the time for him? The space for him? How many letters unanswered before he lets it finally take root and fester in his mind?

He could have died on that tour.

Would they even notice? Would they see when the letters slow until they cease? Would they wonder why? His mum, surely (maybe, possibly, but she has enough on her hands, besides, and he's never been a concern, in need of her assistance, before), but anyone else? Anthony on his honeymoon, Eloise a stormcloud personified, Benedict taking on the familial responsibilities, Fran preparing for the marriage mart and in Bath, regardless. Daphne, his closest sister, a mum running her own estate.

Greg and Hyacinth who enjoy his stories, but are children.

Pen who ignores him. No explanation, no goodbye.

Colin who has no one in his corner. Colin who travels city to city, putting on personas. Will they like me? What about now? Colin who has hardly anything to read from the people he loves. Who do not think of him.

And yet he thinks of them. Brings them back gifts, writes his recollections for them until it hits him that, oh, they don't care. They don't care what he's doing, how he's doing. They didn't want to hear it before, when he was there with them, and they do not want to hear it now, either. Did they even open those envelopes? Did they see them come through the post, just as proof he's alive, and shrug off the contents? Did they look? Once, Colin sends an empty page. No one notices. Easier, then, to send just the outsides. People only ever care about the outsides. Pretty and prim in neat packages, uncaring of what lies beneath. Sea sick on the rocking boats, staring up at stars on the continent, Colin grows aware, but not bitter. Sad, but resigned.

He loves his family, he loves Pen, loves them to grace, loves them to it's okay. It was him, he determines. Too chatty, his letters too long, uninteresting, his passions dull or droll, or else, worse, he's displeased them in some way. Colin who takes refuge in stranger's arms and homes, who dreams and tries to sate his curiosity. Colin who pretends, because anyone, anyone but him would be received better, he's sure of it. Colin who must talk too much, surely, and with no one to listen. Colin who learns to hush.

Yes. Remarkable- as in, I have many remarks about it.

How many times did he go to excitedly write of what he did that week, and stopped himself, knowing it was a waste? How many times did he write and throw into the fire a letter asking Why don't you see me? Why don't you care?

If he didn't make it, how long would it take for anyone to notice? A month? Two? A year? Would they wave it off as his frivolity, denounce him as a flake and fume about the funds? Would they wonder where it was he had lost himself off at?

He cannot fall into that, so, he writes in his journal, instead. Of the ache of it, of how he longs for connection, for understanding, for someone to take him seriously. He keeps it with him, this log of his discontent, of his folly and felicity, of his pitfalls and pains.

If he didn't make it, would they realize all that's left of him is what he sent them, not even a body to bury? Did he look over the side of a bow of a boat and look at the churn of the ocean and think of how many bones it held? Did he tip his face to the sun? How many new scars did he earn? Who did he befriend?

Who did he become?

Somewhere along the line, Colin learned. He learned the real him wasn't wanted.

Somewhere along the line, somewhere between Patmos and Paris, Colin left Colin behind.

And, somewhere along the line, Colin laid face to face with loneliness in his bed, and it wrapped its arms around him.

#colin bridgerton #bridgerton #polin #say what you will- i understand why pen did it- but i still think ghosting your friend with no explanation #when he's off on a journey he could very well die on. . .not great #and what the fuck else was his family doing that they couldn't respond to his letters? they are aristocrats living in an off season #in the country- write a letter back to your son/brother who could perish in a land where no one knows him #idk i think about this a lot like colin was just. . .so uncared for and so unseen #he went off on travels to Europe in the early 1800s #anything could have killed him #and eloise last told him his letters slogged on and on and if he liked it so much he should have stayed #in an ideal world when colin said he apologized for what he said pen would ALSO apologize for not telling him sooner #i don't think she realizes just how lonely colin actually is #just how unseen he is #she thinks like so many others think that he's a popular man and oh so well regarded #that colin isn't real #colin isn't listened to- i wish more people would have empathy for him about that

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kedreeva · 2 years

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Eddie Munson's message as a character should never have been that he needed to stop running and fight to be a hero. It should have been that heroism can look a lot of different ways. It should have been you don't have to be a hero to have worth.

#eddie munson #stranger things #yes I am still mad #no I will not be stopping soon #but you're going to get meta tomorrow about something else #no it will not make anything better #yes it will make you mad too hopefully #also not for nothing but #Literally El's whole arc was the same thing #they tried to play it like it wasn't #but after spending a frankly bullshit amount of time #showing us how she was floundering without her powers #they dropped Mike going you're a superhero and El going Not Anymore #and then she has to get her powers back to save everyone #which like yeah okay she's literally the only one who can do that #but listen‚ look me in my eyes #she really could have used someone like eddie #to teach her that she doesn't need to be a hero to have worth #she's not listening to anyone else because they've all experienced her with superpowers #But Eddie didn't even see her defeat vecna at all #idk I'm just. the possibilities!!!!! the character development!!!#they could have had narrative parallels!!!#ugh

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ineed-to-sleep · 21 days

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Funny how all it takes is a couple of conversations with a cis straight man about gender to make me go "yup I'm definitely not cis"

#listen I adore my stepfather ok but he's got a pretty traditional view of gender #he's very respectful of others and doesn't enforce it on anyone else #and I think it's not that toxic all things considered bc he sees 'manhood' as being primarily about being hard working and protecting other #but it's still very gender essentialist #and he sees a lot of things as 'man things' and 'woman things'#and talks about skills and roles that are 'men's'#and I'm just like well but I do a lot of those things. but I identify with a lot of the things you describe.#and he tries to go around it like 'ahh well but you have personal history with that' etc etc #we get along really well tho we don't fight or anything but it's interesting to me #it makes me realize just how much I'm outside of the binary in the eyes of cis people #and how much 'trying to be a man' or 'trying to be a woman' are things that hold no emotional meaning to me(personally)#I could not care less what makes me masculine or feminine or if either of those labels are revoked for some reason #taking on the label of woman or man feels like a burden to me bc it always comes with a set of expectations #I just wanna be me yk. I just want people to see me through the lens of 'this is a person'#'this is what this person likes. this is how this person behaves'#I just wanna turn off gender. can I do that? like just flip a switch and no one perceives me as anything anymore #in a perfect world maybe #sleep.txt #I honestly still don't fully understand how I feel about gender but. I know that I don't like being put into a box #the box is Evil.

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raycatz · 2 months

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I'm not including a situation where someone might be injured because in that case I'm thinking the bed goes to them by default or they are nominated for it. anyone who wants to be chatty goes to join the living room floor gang.

What are your thoughts and headcanons? Do you have thoughts on how the boys tend to approach assigning beds in inns? Who do the chain choose to sleep near when camping and why? What are their dynamics like when settling down for the night and getting ready for the day?

In "Mirror Vs Open Closet Door: Fight!" by Gintrinsic (here) Four refers to the chain's decision on how to split up between inn rooms as the "Link-per-room ratio" which I find very funny. He, Sky, and Time also talk about their thought process behind why they do or don't want to sleep in a room with some of the others which I find fun and interesting.

So! If you have thoughts and want to share them! *gestures to the post!*

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #alrighty! now for my answers-#for the ranch question I think it varies which is why I'm asking in a poll. What do you think happens most often though?#each answer is a fun scenario so it's difficult to choose #but I think they'd try to act politely around Malon and Time for the first couple visits with straws or rock paper scissors #or showing generosity by offering the bed to someone else. (I bet Malon saying they're charming is quite the incentive #for more possible compliments. The chain as a whole would want to prove her right xD )#Once they're more comfortable in the house though I can totally see Wind and Legend making a mad dash for it while Wars yells after them xD #Wind probably ends up sharing with Four a lot since they're the littles #or Wind snuggles in with Wars Legend Wild etc #Wild and Twi/Wolfie have claimed the spot on the floor by the fireplace.#For inn rooms / castle rooms / camping - I tend to group them by how they're grouped a lot already #but a lil mixed up #Time - Sky - Wars are the good rest trio. they want a good night's rest please let them get their beauty sleep. often joined by Four #Wars goes between this group and wherever Legend is depending on how chatty he is that night.#Twi - Wild - Hyrule are snuggle/proximity buddies #Legend is attached to Hyrule's hip or sets up near Warriors to gossip and gripe. I can also see him setting up near Wild #in the eye of the storm as it were or just an interesting place to be. Wild and Hyrule can get to chatting about everything and anything #so if Legend wants background noise (Hyrule and Wild podcast omg)-#or a conversation he can be half a part of and jump in and out of while getting ready for the night or in the mornings-#this is a good place to be. add Wind and things get a bit more chaotic.#Wind gravitates to Wars and Legend too when curious and chatty. He gravitates towards Time when he wants something calmer.#Four tends to be near Sky or Twi or to Legend's group for the same reasons #I can see Four and Twi having a little book club going during downtimes where they talk about what they're reading. Sky likes to listen. <3 #Wind thinks they're nerds but so is he and he can't resist a good story so he orbits and sometimes settles in and peppers questions.#it's funny that Time Sky and Wars want to sleep the most but Legend follows Wars to chat (and ends up bringing people with him xD )#there could be some conflict there oooo #Twi is by Time #it's almost a circle but with clusters of sleeping bags near on top of each other and filling the gaps

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starbuck · 2 years

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we talk a lot about “escaping the narrative,” but keep in mind that the frightening thing about escape is the chance you might end up someplace worse.

#hello. i have been listening to Maize Stalk Drinking Blood for like an hour now #you could ask me about how it’s about ~10 different brbabcs characters - but i wouldn’t tell you because i am Shy ✌🏻#it Is tho :))#ANYWAYS #that’s a Ravenous 1999 quote for those who don’t know #but inspired by my currently line of thinking which is that for SOME of the brbabcs characters - there was never any better alternative #not that there wasn’t morally or logically but they quite literally COULDN’T have done anything else than what they did #not because The Narrative Is Controlling Them or whatever - but because they are Fucked In The Head #we might see potential ‘better endings’ for them #but those were completely unattainable bc making any choices other than the terrible ones they made would have killed them anyway #because they couldn’t have stood for it #which is what makes it such an excellent tragedy #also to any moralistic weirdos out there: this isn’t me morally justifying anyone - this is me going :((#learn the difference and embrace the Tragic Narrative <33

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miraclesprinkle · 11 months

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No memories remain of anything before

Yes, I'm with you in a garden of carnage

In a mayhem of trickster and tricked!

#amphibia #marcy wu #my art #okokok so-#i'm gonna do my best to explain this #because most of the art i make is some form of abstract/surreal #and most have a deeper meaning that will only makes sense to me and me only #but this one i wanna try and explain #anyway-#so it's supposed to represent conversation with yourself #like a shower argument if you will #but like talking to yourself #and enjoying the convo because nobody else but you will #like marcy could talk to anne or sasha about whatever but they wouldn't like or participate at all in the way marcy both wants/needs #so the only person marcy can have a real conversation with is herself #that's why the phone isn't connected to anything #what they're talking about isn't for anyone else to listen to #it's just for them because they know nobody else won't talk to them like they can #but that's it #hope that made any sense lmao

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redhotarsenic · 10 months

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ACID PUNK PHANTASY

#this will not be the last time I use a song title for a caption (<- words of a man who is uncreative)#anyway I’ve been wanting to do somethin with him and orange and blue for a while now and I’m just now feeling like I could do it #I did the hair like that out of laziness btw! I didn’t feel like trying to do anything super realistic. so you’re getting low poly hair ok?#go listen to that song also <333 #was gonna use cyan hardcore but cyan is not the Color here. it is orange.#that will be something else instead!#trigun #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun fanart

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garthyobsessed · 1 year

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I'm irrationally obsessed with Garthy O'Brien, especially their voice, so I made a compilation of literally every word they speak in FHSY and PiroL. Enjoy!

@d20fuckability

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high sophomore year #fhsy #pirates of leviathan #garthy o'brien #garthy o’brien #garthy obrien #the name is bc I had to title it when I was making it in imovie and I couldn't think of anything better so I used this as a placeholder #but now it is garthycam in my heart forever 😌#also fun fact I made this like last april lmao #I just didn't want to post it on my main blog and I didn't know where else to share it #but I finally gave in and just made a sideblog dedicated to it so here we are #hoping soundcloud's moderation system is still bad enough that they won't take this down #if they do I'll update this with a new link #I posted it on there because I didn't want it to be hosted on tumblr #bc that could get annoying when you're trying to listen to a 40-minute compilation lol #this way you can listen to it on soundcloud or download it or whatever #SoundCloud

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glitterghost · 4 months

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Belle (2023) 🌹

#belle 2023 #max gold #iceland #listen i just want to talk abt this for a second #i watched belle recently and yes it is a take on beauty and the beast #and yes it had so much more potential than it delivered BUT #im not mad at it at all?#i enjoyed it and it the scenery? stab my through the heart with that beautiful landscape #also it just feels like a quiet movie if that makes sense?#its got this like subtle quality to it and idk how to explain it #i wanted more and things could have been MORE but im sitting here making a post about it bc i cant find anything else on here about it #its classified as horror and im not 100% torn on that label for it but i get why they did that #anyway if you want a slightly darker/grittier take on the story then maybe give this one a shot?#and really its just so pretty to look at #and there are no fix it type fics to make it the more i want but thats okay i am okay #movies

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yuuugay · 11 months

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all of em are pretty different since i didnt think it through jskbcdkjavcd but the 4 gods from @uroboros-if 👍👍👍👍👍

#uroboros if #all their hair is moving one way or another because my shaky ass hands could never straight line #also because im fruity #this will be the first and last time i draw salv's hair ornament because that itself took me a hot minute #it was fun lowkey #lineart kinda like that though #very one track minded #i dont notice anything else but this digital black line i control #it wsa therapeutic #and i was listening to butterfly by loona #im pretty sure i blacked out while drawing masc ciocana because it took me 15 minutes and i dont remember what happened kqshbjlsdv #once again debby ryan hair tucking gif at alessi because 🥺👉👈🥺👉👈 hand in marriage till death do us apart pls #i love uroboros man :((( ive been thinking of it 4 the past days #actually my thoughts are mostly just;#shepherds of haven and hero maker and uroboros and doing a sht ton line art #this is like probably my 8th lineart this weekened #plus 1 for acorn bell #so 9 technically #im pretty proud of myself

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teamsasukes · 11 months

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listen i get where people are coming from when they say that nobody should have expected a radical overhaul of the shinobi system considering the series very squarely set up its main theme as not abandoning friends. that certainly was the setup. but i also think it would be inaccurate to say that the story as it evolved affirmed that refusing to abandon one's friends was the be-all and end-all fix for everything. i cannot emphasize this enough: it's not as though the prior generations we saw lacked devotion to their teammates. the problem was that the larger sociopolitical circumstances obstructed their ability to connect in one way or another. even naruto acknowledges at the land of iron that his and sasuke's positions made it impossible for them to reconcile. so for the series to do a 180 and assert that actually friendship was the solution all along (even though there have been no meaningful systemic changes, even though the source of these intergenerational conflicts has not been addressed) rings hollow. it's especially glaring that being violently beaten in a fight makes sasuke desert his quest for justice without any reservation -- therefore no ideological or political separation was bridged, sasuke was just made to forget what motivated him for the entire series' run. naruto and team 7 succeeding where their predecessors failed was not a function of anything they did differently, but mere narrative convenience.

#like. nearly every prominent relationship in this series is definitive proof that love is not enough!#itachi without a doubt loved sasuke and itachi hurt sasuke more immensely than anyone and itachi did it because of loyalty to the state #if that is how you love... your love is worth nothing #so yeah it just feels really disingenuous to say that the series was about the power of friendship all along #and people expecting anything else were watching the wrong series #when textually the power of friendship has ALWAYS proven insufficient #naruto #naruto meta #team 7 #and listen u could certainly argue that the friendship in previous gens was deficient because there was no attempt made #at understanding or compromise. and to really live by obito's nindo you had to prioritize each other over country ALWAYS #but the series didn't do that either. sasuke for all intents and purposes 'lost'#and he was integrated back into konoha by accepting the hitai-ate #nrt had a bunch of weird mixed messaging on that front in general. like hiruzen letting orochimaru go which proved disastrous for konoha #or hiruzen and danzo's whole thing lmao #but whether the uchiha massacre was right/necessary was also left ambiguous so i'm not sure how that's supposed to paint hiruzen

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luluwquidprocrow · 3 months

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oh if you knew what it meant to me

albert & diane

gen

2,128 words

It’s the wrong side of midnight, and he’d planned to leave the airport, stand in the parking lot for as long as it took to smoke out the memory of Leland Palmer’s scalp from his brain, and then get a cab. But he’s dead with exhaustion after the flight (and everything else) and Diane Evans and her fucking car are the best things he’s ever seen in his life.

my fic for @tildytwo for @countdowntotwinpeaks' wonderfulxstrange 2024 exchange!! albert coming home after the end of the palmer case.

title from daydreaming by dark dark dark

He sees Diane in the parking lot, smoking under a streetlight by her blinding red Mustang. She’d told him once it was vintage, and he said that vintage wasn’t going to help her out a bit if the car didn’t crumple when some beige sedan asshole t-boned her out on the highway. No airbags at all. He’s unsure about the seatbelts. The trunk is barely going to fit his suitcases, he knows, alongside the hideously pink tool kit he’s sure is still in there. It’s the wrong side of midnight, and he’d planned to leave the airport, stand in the parking lot for as long as it took to smoke out the memory of Leland Palmer’s scalp from his brain, and then get a cab. But he’s dead with exhaustion after the flight (and everything else) and Diane Evans and her fucking car are the best things he’s ever seen in his life.

Diane startles when he gets close, her cigarette smoldering between her fingers. “You look terrible,” she says, as if it’s a revelation.

“I didn’t ask for the opinion of the local peanut gallery,” Albert says.

“You’re getting it anyway,” Diane says. “Sure you weren’t the one that took three bullets to the chest, Albert?”

“Oh, very funny, madam secretary.” Does he really look that bad, he wonders. He feels that bad, like he’s dragging himself six steps behind where his body really is. Three trips in two weeks to the Mayberry R.F.D. death trap in Washington state will do that to you. Or at least it should. Dale Cooper and all his charms aside, Albert had no plans to stay for a placatory funeral in a town that was getting a track record.

Were they giving that girl a funeral too. Or were they only having one for the father of the year. Albert scrapes around in his brain for her name—she deserves that much. Madeline. What about Madeline Ferguson, her blood still stuck on Albert’s hands. His fingers flex around the handle of one of his suitcases. Coop had said she was from out of town. Did her parents come back for her? Or was she getting buried there too, in the same yawning grave Coop was staying behind in? The thought burrows inside his stomach, another knot of background concern adding to the rest of them. In a few years, if not already, he’ll have a nice shiny ulcer to show for all the nonsense the bureau’s put him through. Fuck, he is too tired for this.

Diane takes advantage of his dazed stupor and gets his suitcases away from him. Albert was right, the toolbox is still in the trunk and still pink; his suitcases barely fit but Diane works the same feat of magic she does on everything else and gets the trunk to close before pushing him into the passenger seat. Miracle of miracles, it does have seatbelts.

He twists the radio dial back and forth until Diane gets in and smacks his hand away. She puts on a top 40s station, because her compassion is obviously limited, and reverses neatly out of the parking lot and navigates through the maze of airport traffic onto the highway. Albert keeps an eye out for sedans as a matter of principle. They’re the sort of car that creeps up on you this time of night, even with Philadelphia still alive around them, pricks of light burning like match heads.

“Oh!” Diane twists an arm behind her around to the backseat, digging for something with a reckless abandon that has the Mustang veering sharply over the road.

“Jesus, Diane, the road—”

“Keep your shirt on, Rosenfield,” Diane laughs. She shoves a thermos into Albert’s chest and then gets both hands back on the wheel. “There. I brought you coffee.”

“At what cost,” Albert mutters, but he unscrews the cup and the lid. The fact of the matter is that Diane makes coffee to die for, and he could use the warmth.

“You’re welcome.”

Then she’s silent for a whole verse and chorus of twangy guitars as someone sings about standing, and Albert knows it’s coming. He downs a gulp of coffee like a shot and his jaw starts to tighten up.

“He didn’t come with you,” Diane says.

“What gave it away,” Albert asks, “the lack of chipper humming in the overall ambience or the fact that I got your coffee?”

“I did make it for you, dipshit,” Diane insists. “I listen in on Gordon’s calls, I knew he wasn’t coming, and I thought you could use it. I just—” She takes a quick drag of the cigarette still tucked between her fingers. When she exhales, the smoke chases itself in circles. “—it didn’t sound good, why you went there again. And I thought, maybe he might’ve come back with you anyway.”

“No such luck,” Albert says. “He wanted to stay for the funeral.”

The corner of Diane’s mouth pinches in. She doesn’t say it, but both of them are thinking it. They’re intimately acquainted with Coop’s—Albert has spent a long time trying to figure out how to put it. He takes another drink. It’s not sentimentality, per se. Attachment isn’t quite right either, although it wouldn’t be wrong. It’s a show of commitment, of a deep-seated determination that sits somewhere in Coop’s marrow. An unending desire to be the one that helps.

Albert can’t begrudge him the idea, not all the way. You were supposed to feel something, otherwise you were in the wrong line of work if you did this without it being able to knock the breath out of you on occasion. But Albert has a different idea of what it means to respect a case and the people involved. And it hasn’t almost gotten Albert killed. Punched, sure, but like he said, he can take a punch and he’ll take one again if it means he can try and do his goddamn job like he’s supposed to.

He wants to say, well, Coop will be back soon enough. Funerals don’t take forever. Coop has never known where to draw the line but even he has to admit one exists, even in a town like Twin Peaks. But fuck, Albert had encouraged him. Just catch this beast before he takes another bite. And Harry had asked later—Where’s Bob now?

Albert lets his head hit back against the seat, the taste of the coffee sour in his mouth, the ache of a migraine starting behind his eyes. Blue roses never sat easy, but this—he’s been awake too long as it is.

“He’s impossible, isn’t he,” Diane says quietly.

“That’s one of the words for it, I guess,” Albert says.

The two of them share a glance—Diane makes it blessedly quick and puts her eyes back on the road where they belong. Yeah, they both know about that, too. They have their own attachments. They wouldn’t be in this car if they didn’t.

Diane drums her fingers on the steering wheel. “Are you hungry?”

“I had lunch.” Or something like it, probably a million years ago. He had the least offensive donut he could find in Harry’s office, which was an overly glazed monstrosity. It stuck on the way down.

“Uh-huh,” Diane says. Her tone is not encouraging. “And?”

“And nothing. I had lunch, Diane, I’m fine.”

“And, that was what, at noon? We’re getting something.”

“Diane—”

“You keep it up and I’ll get you a kids meal, Albert.”

“Excuse me, I am not a—”

“With a small french fry. With a fucking juice box.”

“Fine!” he shouts, which definitely sounds like a fucking child. Diane grins in satisfaction, and she keeps it on her face all the way off the highway exit and to the nearest blindingly bright drive thru, cheerfully ordering two hamburgers from an acne-faced kid in the window who’s chewing gum loud enough to break the sound barrier of Albert’s patience.

“Would you like fries with that?” the kid asks.

Diane hesitates, drawing out the moment and Albert’s absolute last nerve until she says, “Yeah.”

Albert manages to pull his wallet out when Diane gets her own, but she gives him such a look like she’s going to ram it down his throat if he even so much as opens his mouth to offer to pay. It rankles him, but then Diane’s flinging the bag of food at him and driving around to park facing the road. There’s a balancing act between the thermos and the hamburgers and the fries and Diane’s ginger ale and her cigarette, but they manage. Albert unwraps his hamburger, exchanges the onions for the saddest lone pickle slice from Diane’s, and sinks his teeth into the whole thing. It really is the greasiest thing in the world. He hates how good it tastes right now.

The radio crackles with static, only bursts of some recent subpar Chicago song coming through. Cars shoot by, one another another with the lights starting to blur. Albert rubs his eyes and says it. “I feel like I left him there.”

Diane picks at her french fries. “I don’t think either of us could’ve dragged him away,” she concedes. “Not if he didn’t want to leave.”

“He’s got all the self-preservation skills of a deer in headlights,” Albert says. “And he’s not even going to notice if he gets hit. Next thing I know he’ll put down roots there.”

Diane shifts in her seat.

Motherfucker. “Don’t tell me,” Albert says. “Don’t do it, Diane. I’m asking nicely.”

“Too late. He wanted to know about his real estate opportunities in his pension,” Diane says. Then—“I told him it was misfiled and I couldn’t find it. I thought, even Dale couldn’t be serious about that. But—”

Albert’s free hand curls in on itself against his knee. Son of a bitch, it stings. He should’ve stayed and sat through the most pointless funeral so he could pull the hooks out of Coop himself and take him home. He should’ve punched Harry back. He should’ve looked him in the eyes until he saw what Coop saw in there. He should’ve finished Laura Palmer’s autopsy. He should’ve taken them all back with him when he had the chance.

He wonders what his own pension options are. Albert is by no means going to walk right after Coop into his hell du jour, but he’s got enough sense to know where it is and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t stay close enough to drag Coop back the next time.

“You think he’d do it too,” Diane says, her voice low. She turns and faces him, and Albert can see the lights in the parking lot hit on the circles under her eyes. Her cigarette has burned out now. They’re the only ones left in the world for a second, two people waiting to see who loses it first.

So they make a choice, between the two of them. Next time.

He has to get his head back on straight. Albert clears his throat a few times, unclenches his fist. “I think Dale Bartholomew Cooper is going to give me a goddamn coronary,” he says. “Unless this burger does first,” he continues, taking another bite.

“Bartholomew?” Diane repeats, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I am. As serious as the coronary.”

“Bartholomew,” she says it again. “Oh, it’s so terrible I kind of love it.”

“You’ve been his secretary for how long and you didn’t know that?”

Suddenly, a smile breaks over her face. She starts giggling. “Did you know—did you know he didn’t know my fucking last name until last year?”

It startles a laugh out of Albert. It’s the sort of unbelievable thing that becomes believable, with Coop. They keep laughing to the end of the hamburgers. It’s a damn novelty to still be able to do it. Maybe there’s enough hope left for the three of them yet. Next time, by the piercing guitar coming through the radio, Diane dumping the rest of her fries into Albert’s container, Albert drinking Coop’s coffee, Coop’s tapes waiting in Albert’s suitcases in the trunk.

“Thanks,” Albert says.

Diane grins again. “Yeah, I thought you knew how to say it. Let’s get you home before you self-destruct from the strain of it.”

Albert rolls his eyes. It’s a while yet to his place, and even longer back to Diane’s after. “You want me to drive?” he asks. It’s a pointless offer, since it’s her car and she came to get him, and it’s the Mustang, but he feels obligated.

But Diane laughs. “Shut up, Rosenfield. You can get me back later.”

Albert doesn’t think so. He lets her drive the rest of the way home, watching for sedans. None come close.

#twin peaks #wonderfulxstrange #countdowntotwinpeaks #tildytwo #albert rosenfield #diane evans #the title is growing on me. i could not think of anything else. and it was the first thing i wrote down #when i was listening to my peaks playlist while planning. bc this song is on it and i thought it hit something here #but if you knew what it meant to coop.........but if you knew what it meant to albert...........but if you knew what it meant to diane.....#song with twangy guitars and singing about standing -- stand by r.e.m. the subpar chicago song -- you're not alone #the piercing guitar -- paradise city by guns n roses #all of which were in the top 40s in early march 1989.#(i don't think albert would know r.e.m. or guns n roses but i DO think he would know chicago. classic chicago.)

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