What if Albert and Gordon find the real Coop? Short tag for episode 4, can be seen as a continuation of that episode or as an AU for some of the events in them. A fiercely hopeful bit of wishful thinking to soothe my battered heart…
Spoilers for Twin Peaks The Return, up to episode 4.
It was the end of my sophomore year in college, and my friends were piled into my mini van as we drove to Rosendale to volunteer to stand at a table on the side of the rail trail and hand out little cups of water to marathon runners. I had no idea where I was, I was desperate to go exploring, and I had a crushed gravel, wheelchair accessible trail that I had never been on stretching out on either side of me for miles and miles. This combination of circumstances was intoxicating. I felt guilty about abandoning my service project crew, but honestly, me trying to hand a marathon runner a cup of water with my weak, spindly hand would only end in spilled water everywhere. I needed to wander. So, I picked a direction and I just kept going. The air was chilly, but my excitement and the jiggling vibrations from my wheelchair on the trail warmed my body up and made my nose run. I kept moving forward quickly because I wanted to explore the maximum distance of trail that I possibly could, without being gone so long that people had to worry about me. Right when I thought I was pushing my luck and I should probably turn around, I saw this long, rickety looking, beautiful bridge up ahead of me. It was the Rosendale Tressel, and before that moment, I had no idea it existed. I crossed the bridge multiple times, looking down at the Walkill Valley far below me, and.the people’s little backyards with gardens and lawn furniture. I hope everyone gets these moments in life. Where you discover a hidden treasure on your own, and you’re stunned by how beautiful and exciting life can be. When its perfectly ok that when you get back to your group of college students huddled around a fold up table covered in small paper cups, nobody really cares that you found a bridge. And no, they don’t want to walk to the bridge after the service project is over, even though it’s a super long, high up, impressive bridge. That’s ok, because a smile will keep creeping up on your face every time you think about this little secret you share with the universe.
Summary: So when the bride was clinking her glass and i could feel his hand missing from my waist, i promise to end those feelings, for his own sake, for his own happiness.
a/n: based on Adele’s song, All I Ask, this is my first phanfic ever lmao
“Can i dance with you?” i asked.
He looked at me with his blue eyes, then he smiled and nodded his head, “Sure, Dan.”
He held my hand and lead me to the dance floor, and i could feel at least fifty pair of eyes looking at me, they were looking at me like this isnt supposed to happen in this beautiful day,
His beautiful day.
The pianist started to play a very beautiful melody, and suddenly, my reality shattered into million pieces at the moment i met his eyes.
What is self control when his blue eyes that filled with so much joy and happiness met my brown ones?
And they were looking at mine deeply just like when we met for the first time, when we held the first eye contact in real life, when his blue eyes found my brown ones among the crowds.
I could feel his hand on my waist, his grip was still strong just like how it always be, but my head was screaming no, no please stop, no this isnt right, the best man isnt supposed to dance with the groom-
But, at the same time, im afraid to admit that my heart actually wanted more than this.
He smiled at me before he spun me over, reminded me of those past years when it was just me and him in our pyjamas, dancing like two fools in the kitchen, knocking everything around us- but we didnt care, even about the spoiled milk on the floor or the burned food in the pan,
because at that exact moment, it was just about us, just about me and Phil.
I looked at his dark blue bowtie, remember when i made an excuse about how it will match the bride’s flower perfectly when i handed him that, but actually i pick that color just because Phil always looks good with dark blue and suit.
Fuck, Phil always looks good with every clothes that he choosed to wear.
“Dan,” He called.
“Thank you,” He said again, “For being the greatest best man that have ever existed, i thought you were going to say no because of-
“Well im still your best friend right?” I cut his sentence, i cant ruin this important day in his life.
“The best of all.”
He said those words with a crooked smile on his face, and suddelny his pale skin looks more stunning under the fairylight, but unlike his cold figure, his fingers are still warm, just like how they always feel when he is happy.
Under the fairylight on the dance floor, when the pianist was hitting the c-key with his left hand, i could feel my adoration and love that i burried deep inside my heart exploded into million stars, covering my vision and the sight of him, the man where all of my feelings will always belong to.
So when the bride was clinking her glass and i could feel his hand missing from my waist, i promise to end those feelings, for his own sake, for his own happiness.
For what is best for him and the both of us.
“What are you doing here?”
I turned just to see him standing in front of the balcony door with a glass of champaigne in his grip.
“Nothing, actually,” i laughed, “Just go inside, you have guests.”
“No,” he said before walking closer to me,
No, stop, Phil, No.
“I just want to talk to you,” he said, “Just you and me and the stars on top of us.”
I felt my entire body turned into statue as i heard his sighs.
“Look im sorry-
"There is nothing to be sorry for,” i cut him, again. “its your right to fall in love, i cant do anything against what is right for you.”
I looked at him but he was looking at the city lights in front of us, and i remember when he told me that every light means hope for everyone when we were looking down to manchester from the manchester eye.
And i remember telling him that even in an ocean of city lights filled with hope, i will always find him, the brightest light that meant for the only me.
I looked at the stars and heard Phil’s voice echoing in my head, i remember it all, the ocean of stars,our first kiss, how his lips were freezing against mine and snow was covering the street after the storm that hit Rosendale six hours before.
So under the stars and over the sea of neon lights, i build my courage to said the last sentence that will ends it all.
“Phil, can you kiss me?” i asked.
He turned his body to look at me, “What did you just say?”
“Can you kiss me?” I asked again, “Tonight is the last time, lets end it in the same way as the way we started it,” i bit my lip, no i cant cry, “Under the stars, just like when you kissed me, for the first time.”
He didnt speak, nor scream, but suddenly he held my hand and intertwined our fingers, his other hand was behind my neck, he moved closer to my face and i could see the way his pupils dilatated, then the rest was just like a dream.
I could feel his breath tickling my cheek, and his warm lips on mine, and they were warm and not freezing like our first kiss.
His fingers squeezed mine, as if they were never going to be ready to let me go.
The kiss was deep, not little pecks like our first time,
Just when i thought he was just going to stay with me and leave everything behind, he pulled and i saw his watery eyes.
It hurts, god, it hurts to see him like this, even more hurting because the reason behind his watery eyes was me and my stupid request.
“Can i kiss you again?” he said, “For one last time before i went inside?”
I nodded and he kissed me again, and this time both of us closed our eyes.
He pulled and whispered closely to my lips, “Im sorry.”
My eyes were still closed even though he is gone, then i heard some clapping sound before i fell into my kness.
I cried silently, letting my heart slowly bleed out, as a reminder of million chances that i didnt take and the billion ‘i love you’s that i didnt say.
So under the stars and above the sea of neon lights, when the guests were clapping to congratulate Phil and his official Wife,
I could feel my first heartbreak after living ten years of my life with so much love and affection from the man with blue eyes, the man whose light shone the brightest, the light that no longer belong to the only me.
i know some of my mutuals are dreading the coming S3 Discourse… meanwhile I’m over here like, giddily putting on my elven armor
i’m sharpening ragnarok, my mystical blade, forged by dwarves from diamonds and the talons of Moloch the Stone Owl in the ancient fires of Discourse
i’m filing down rows of wearied soldiers, giving my war speech. most of them will meet their doom in this Final Battle, but they will meet it with honor and valor, and their descendants will immortalize them in their songs of the ship wars
I call upon the protection of gods. I burn pungent herbs and anoint them with oil to invoke the good favor of mfrost11 and DAVID_LYNCH. May I bring honor to their names, and if they will it, victory; may this battle be my final offering.
I lift my blade to the sky as the orc hordes approach: FOR TRUTH! FOR RIGHTEOUSNESS! FOR ROSENDALE!!!!!
imagine telling shy little phil from rosendale that not only would he someday be massively successful with two major publications and two films, a stage show, a worldwide audience, and countless of awards, but would also have a companion that constantly cheers him on and is essentially his biggest fan
Today, I got to visit my favorite cool abandoned stone ruins by Spring Farm trailhead that I first found the day before Halloween. Everything on the trails here are so vibrantly green and foresty. We also visited the Rosendale tressel bridge, and felt the cold, icy air blowing out of the caves. Now, my grandma and aunt are driving up to New Paltz to be at my graduation tomorrow. I don’t know for sure what comes next in my life, but I know it will be a difficult and sweet adventure, and I’m excited for it, and I know how lucky I am to be me.
Taken from a link titled “The Dizzying Heights Of 21st Century Agriculture”.
(Should be called horror and torture on a massive scale)
Our industrialized food system nourishes more people, at lower cost, than any comparable system in history. It also exerts a terrifyingly massive influence on our health and our environment. Photographer George Steinmetz spent nearly a year traveling the country to capture that system, in all its scope, grandeur and dizzying scale. His photographs are all the more remarkable for the fact that so few large food producers are willing to open themselves to this sort of public view.
Photo 1; Newborn females arrive from local dairies and spend their first 180 days at Calf Source — first in one of 4,896 hutches, like the ones seen here, and then in larger group pens. Trucks pass down each of 72 rows, dispensing water and milk. After a transfer to Heifer Source, another facility owned by the Milk Source company, the cows are inseminated and then returned — seven months pregnant, and just under 2 years old — to the dairies they came from.
Photo 2; During its busiest season, Gary’s Gobblers might have up to 60,000 turkeys living on five acres of its 160-acre facility. The worker seen here is spraying an antibacterial solution into the turkey pens to prevent disease.
Photo 3; By World War II, the J.R. Simplot Company had become the nation’s largest shipper of fresh potatoes; by 2005, it was said to be the source of more than half of all McDonald’s French fries. This 750-acre feedlot resulted from a realization by its billionaire owner, John Richard Simplot, that he could also use the waste products of his potato operation to fatten cattle.
Photo 4;The two rotating carousels of this milking parlor operate 22 hours a day, milking 7,900 cows three times each. Rosendale Dairy, like Calf Source and Heifer Source, is owned by Milk Source.
Photo 5; Fair Oaks Farms is both a working farm and an educational tourist attraction, with a Pig Adventure area showing visitors the seven-month cycle, from birth to sale, of a pig. Here, sows are penned on their sides when nursing, while piglets spend the majority of each day feeding and growing rapidly.
N.B. Photo 5 an “educational tourist attraction?”
Photo 2 antibacterial spraying?
This is an atrocity and is adversely affecting humans, not to mention the planet.
@siverwrites I was hoping to be able to post your gift fic today, while wonderful x strange is also running, but I’m too braindead to get those last few edits done tonight… :c Expect it up tomorrow or the day after, though!
Summary: Dan Howell is a serial killer who picks up hitchhikers and murders them, but this hitchhiker has the same intention as him….
A/n: this is based off a text post which I can’t find for the life of me, but you’ll know if you find it. I liked writing this. I guess after seeing suicide squad it interesting to play around with concept of insanity. Let me know if you liked this one, I kind of want to do one loosely based off the joker and Harley Quinn :)
Warnings: murder, mental illness, also the two main characters are psychopaths so Y'know
The rain tapped on the window of Dan’s new car, soft and gently. Two words that are alien to Dan. He drove steadily keeping a keen eye by the side of the road, checking for anyone who may need a ride. He always liked this part of the procedure, it gave him time to reflect. He’d had a good run that evening, two lone uni boys and a couple. He preferred killing men. It meant he could ‘have a little fun’ before sticking a bullet in their skull. It was odd, as Dan never felt guilt when he took people lives. Perhaps that stemmed from his childhood.
Dan’s parents didn’t agree with him not being straight, but the fact he didn’t even identify with a label only infuriated his parents more. The neglect and hate his parents gave him made Dan a very lonely person. And subsequently made him psychotic. An extreme case, but Dan wasn’t exactly sane, even when his parents loved him.
The brown haired psychopath was soon brought out of his own thoughts when a dark figure waving their thumb stepped out into the road. It was about 1 am and Dan was getting tired. This would be Dan’s last victim of the night. As he got close to figure, he saw a a mess of black hair and piercing blue eyes. The man had a child like smile plastered on his face. Oh, this was too easy for Dan, it’s not like the guy would put up much of a fight.
Dan opened his car door and a very wet man fell into the front seat. Clumsy too.
‘Thank you so much, I was worried I would be sleeping by the side of the road! Oh, my names Phil by the way, Phil Lester’. He held out his hand cheerfully for Dan to shake. Surprised by his attitude, Dan shook Phil’s hand. ‘I’m Daniel, where can I take you to’. Dan never introduced himself as Dan, always Daniel, professional Daniel. He hated strangers calling him Dan. 'Waterloo station if you don’t mind, I know trains aren’t running at this time but there are hotels near by. Also can I call you Dan?’ Well, looks like Dan would have to like his nickname tonight.
The men drove in silence, until Phil broke it. He was fidgety and he kept rummaging through his rucksack. Dan found it irritating, but couldn’t stay mad at the boy. He was interesting and quirky. Too bad he’ll be dead in the next hour. 'Where you from Phil?’. Dan never asked personal questions about his victims, but he felt like he wanted to know this guy more. 'Originally from Rosendale up north, but I’ve just moved to London, what about you?’. Dan was surprised, people never asked about his personal life, they were always too busy going on about where they were heading. 'Wokingham’, his reply short and sweet. He hoped Phil would continue the conversation as he loved hearing him talk. He almost forgot that he was mean to be killing the guy.
They talked for a while before Dan decided enough was enough. As much as he liked the guy (maybe even loved) it was getting late and his gun had gone too long without releasing a bullet. He took a wrong turn which lead down a dark, narrow road. It was time.
'We’re here’. Dan’s tone was flat. He expected Phil to be scared and to immediately question Dan, but he didn’t. Phil got out the car with his bag. Dan was concerned, and stepped out the car to follow Phil, keeping his gun in his jacket pocket. Phil was bent over, again checking through his bag when Dan spoke. 'What? Aren’t you worried? This obviously isn’t Waterloo station!’. Dan was usually a lot more professional than this, but he was just so astounded by Phil’s behaviour.
Dan’s knees went weak and he suddenly felt fear. He had never encountered this. Phil’s expression had changed. His eyes were cold and he had a gun pointed in Dan’s direction. 'Oh no Daniel, I’m not worried, this location is perfect.’ A smirk grew on his face, but quickly vanished as Dan pulled out a pistol from his jacket. 'Looks like we both have the same intention’. 'So who pulls the trigger first, you or me?’ The men stood at gunpoint for a few more moments before Phil spoke up. 'My gun has to shoot something each night for me to stay happy Daniel, and I don’t plan on being shot’. Dan had read the situation oh so wrong. Phil was psychotic, just like him. He felt fear, but also love for the man. He liked this new feeling of being dominated. Dan dropped his gun and put his hands in the air. 'Do your worst’. As Dan said those words, he shut his eyes preparing for the pain.
Dan opened his eyes to see Phil with his gun pointed in the air. Dan was speechless. Did this man like him too much to kill him? Phil walked over to Dan before grabbing his chin harshly. 'I need a place to stay, and I assume you live near here. So I’m staying over or the next bullet that leaves my gun will find its way into your skull, understand?’. Yup, Dan was hard. But he wasn’t going to let his guard down. 'Sure, then what? Who’s to say I don’t kill you at my house?’ Dan felt quite proud with his response, but Phil immediately shot him down. 'Oh Dan, you love me too much to kill me, and don’t act like you don’t’. Phil knew how to degrade someone in 2 seconds flat. How did he know, was it that obvious? His mind went blank as Phil kissed him, immediately followed by a slap and laughter. But not the giggly laughter Dan once heard earlier that night. No, this was a menacing laugh. Dan liked this. He loved someone loving him. He loved being degraded. He loved Phil, even after knowing for all of an hour. Phil drove to the nearest hotel, Dan was too busy with….polishing Phil’s gun.
He did not know that this is how his evening would end.
Even confession needs some transformation to make it work, I believe—you save yourself not by repeating the facts but by playing with them, by introducing the imaginary into the actual wherever it is needed, so that your writing expresses not only an outer truth but what, for lack of a better phrase, I’m going to have to call an inner truth.
Paul La Farge, discussing his short story, “Rosendale,” in this week’s issue.
For these guys not being an actual a cappella group, this is REALLY good
All Alumnus of various UC-Berkeley A Cappella groups… not quite sure which ones
List of Songs: “Beauty and a Beat” - Justin Bieber ft. Nicki Minaj “I Knew You Were Trouble” - Taylor Swift “Don’t You Worry Child” - Swedish House Mafia “Try” - Pink “Stay” - Rihanna ft. Mikky Ekko “The Way” - Ariana Grande ft. Mac Miller “Heart Attack” - Demi Lovato “Come and Get It” - Selena Gomez “Can’t Hold Us” - Macklemore and Ryan Lewis “Mirrors” - Justin Timberlake “Blurred Lines” - Robin Thicke ft. T.I., Pharrell “Radioactive” - Imagine Dragons “Cups” - Anna Kendrick (Pitch Perfect’s “When I’m Gone”) “Clarity” - Zedd ft. Foxes “Wrecking Ball” - Miley Cyrus “Roar” - Katy Perry “Applause” - Lady Gaga “Royals” - Lorde “Story of My Life” - One Direction “Timber” - Pitbull ft. Kesha