#dale cooper is HOT

[kylemaclachlanfanatic]

Kyle MacLachlan giving us a lesson on these words 🤭💘

[electric-rabbits]

It's almost 2:30 but something possessed me to to do this

[the-crooked-library]

so i've been on T for 2 months by now and i gotta say, the most interesting change thus far is that i've suddenly started taking my coffee black. in my dale cooper era

[cooperlaura]

[crodfoller-t-rhubarb]

[babydoll-888]

He is so dreamy…

[stickmeinhornyjail]

Fictional Men from Television That Have Me in a Stranglehold: an evolving list.

1) Henry Fitzroy, Blood Ties

2) Harvey Kinkle, Sabrina The Teenage Witch

3) Vincent Keller, Beauty and The Beast (CW)

4) Raylan Givens, Justified

5) Special Agent Dale Cooper, Twin Peaks

6) Ethan Chandler, Penny Dreadful

7) The Hot Priest, Fleabag

8) Jack Reacher, Reacher

9) Jim Hopper, Stranger Things

[captaineof7]

Twin Peaks hot take: I love Dale Cooper on a spiritual level and will protect him at all costs.

[depressopax]

Dale Cooper NSFW headcanons

Twin Peaks fandom

Pairing: Dale Cooper x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content! Reader is gender neutral Words: 1.1K Summary: Being in a relationship with Dale Cooper would include... English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 SFW version WIP Full masterlist

Dale sure has had sex before, but still he’s pretty awkward when it comes to that part of your relationship. 

Especially the first time

He was a nervous mess, and in combination with his arousal, his flushed face and how eager he was, it wasn’t really awkward, instead you found it cute.

SERVICE TOP.

He is more submissive by nature, but still likes being on top, since it gives him a slight feeling of control.

…He does love it when you guide him, telling him what pace to go in, and have you decide positions.

He prefers to have you on your back, so he can hover over you and see your sweet face as he pounds into you

He does prefer being on top of you, but also loves it when he can lay back down and have you take care of him.

Seeing you on top of him is like a wet dream to him. He has a weakness for “being taken care of” by you.

He’s loud in bed. He’s a bit ashamed of it, since he’s usually calm, but when he sleeps with you, he can’t, nor wants to control the sounds he makes. 

You love it, though. Since Dale is very calm it’s hot to see him lose it.

…Especially when he whimpers for you.

Overstimulate or edge him, and you’ll even hear him beg for you to stop or continue, cry and whimper. 

Dale’s sexdrive is not that high, but if you have a high libido, he doesn’t really complain.

He prefers long, slow and passionate love-making sessions.

That’s why he’s not a fan of quickies.

He wants to really take his time with you and have time for foreplay and aftercare

But if you insist - or if he’s really horny - he’s down for a quickie. 

His favorite place besides the bed is probably the shower.

That way, he can have sex with you in the morning, clean up and then get ready for work. 

You’re often left with hickeys after sex. Dale is not the possessive/jealous boyfriend (at least not showing signs to be), but he enjoys leaving love marks on your beautiful skin, as to show everyone that tries flirting with you that you’re in a relationship.

He is not that kinky and prefers “vanilla sex”. 

…He’s not the one to admit it, but the thought of light bondage is hot. He would love for you to tie him in bed using one of his ties. 

Maybe even blindfold him, too…

But a big NO is anything that could hurt you. It’s a turn-off

If he’s in the mood, he also spices it up with roleplays.

He’s not good at dirty talking in bed, but if you were to sext each other or talk on the phone… Damn.

Especially if you’ve been apart for too long.

He just misses you, …and your body.

He gets off to the thought of you touching yourself to his words, and hearing your sweet moans over the phone

He does have a praising kink. He likes being praised by you, especially.

Though he doesn’t show it, he’s pretty insecure - especially in bed.

So just praise him and let him know how attractive you find him 

He does the same for you, too.

He’s not shy to tell you how good it feels to be inside of you, how good you look, and how “DAMN good” you taste.

He prefers giving oral.

Once again, he’s a service top.

He loves to have you lying down on bed, moaning his name whilst you tell him what to do.

When you receive oral from him, he usually takes the opportunity to tease you, even edge or overstimulate you, as revenge for how you treat him in bed.

He can AND will spend hours between your legs.

And boyyy he knows how to use his tongue.

Of course, he loves receiving too.

He tells you “He thinks better” when you suck his dick. 

Of course, this only sounds like a lame excuse to get oral from you - but you’re more than happy to oblige.

He is the guy to just lean back with a smile whilst enjoying your lips working on his length.

Especially after a long day at work, or when he’s exhausted. 

He’s not the person to ask you right out for heads, but instead will hint until you understand what he wants, and drops to your knees for him.

He’s not very demanding when it comes to receiving, he just appreciates the fact that you want to please him.

Dale lets you do your thing while he relaxes and looks down at you with a proud smile

…But, if you do gag a bit - he’ll legit go feral.

Dale is very slow and passionate when you have sex

Also, he definitely refers to it as “making love” lol

Because that’s what it’ll feel like.

His goal during sex is to make you feel good. 

He does care about his own pleasure, of course, but he gets off to watching you receive pleasure.

He is extra proud of his hands, knowing how good he can make you feel with them. 

He doesn’t like making a mess, so when he cums, he prefers to do so in a condom.

…Or inside you, if you insist. 

But he doesn’t mind if you make a mess. 

Sure it’s annoying to “clean up”, but at the same time he likes knowing he’s the one to make you cum like that, and THAT MUCH.

Aftercare with Dale >>>>>>>

He’s always a loving boyfriend, but especially after sex.

He’ll make sure to clean you up and get you comfortable

Will ask you if you’re alright and tell you how well you did for him.

He will run you a hot bath if you need it, while he either cleans the mess the two of you made, or even joins you, if you insist.

He massages your back and plants soft kisses all over you.

But he also wants the same treatment if you’ve been rough or dominant with him.

Man is needy af after sex, in the sweetest way possible.

Just praise him by telling him he did well and that you love him etc (or why not call him good boy?) and he’ll melt and feel so appreciated.

Dale prefers to make love to you at night, since he likes to fall asleep afterwards with you in his arms.

Currently having a Dale Cooper brainrot I NEED this man in my life ong Also dying for some Dale content. PLEASE FEED ME 🙏 GOING FERAL FOR THE GIF

[squidbreakfast]

dale cooper pregaming the horrors with a hot cup of coffee and cherry pie

[sprite-writes]

gunmetal blue

chapter 1/?

Dale Cooper/Reader

Summary: Agent Cooper is saddled with a new partner–against his better judgment. She’s a mess–aimlessly stumbling her way through the FBI with a past shrouded in mystery. Grappling with this change, and a puzzling case in a small town, Cooper’s lost. He finds the path forward in the last way he’d expect. 

word count: 2,605

A/N: woah new fic! this is sort of my side project while I work on cloudy day, but it'll still have semi-regular updates! super self indulgent because I love twin peaks, even if everyone had moved on LOL. hope u enjoy <3 as with all my writing, special thanks to @lightning-writes

 Dale wasn’t the type to be needlessly anxious. He was the farthest thing from an overthinker, he was a pragmatic man, he kept his sensibility about him. So, admittedly, it was out of character the way his leg had started to involuntarily bounce, brow sweat, and chest tighten. Gordan Cole’s office had never felt so small. 

He should have known something was wrong with the way Gordan had called him into his office, hands clapping on his shoulders, guiding him into the room like a lost child. Now, with the announcement hanging in the air, he understood. 

“I’m sorry, a-a new partner?” 

“That’s what I said, Coop! Is your hearing going too?” Gordon’s deafening volume usually has no effect on him, but this time he flinches. Dale shifts, and the leather beneath him squeaks. Gordon doesn’t even look up from his computer, skillfully avoiding Dale’s appalled stare. 

“Gordon, with all due respect, I don't need nor want a partner. Has there been something unsatisfactory about my work? Or-” 

“Did you say something about a factory? Anyway, It's not up to me. She was sent here straight from the higher-ups. All I did was sign the paperwork.” 

Dale sighs, his frustration thickening in his chest. His captain's eyes flick to him. 

“I would’ve fought it if I thought it was such a bad idea, Coop. Don’t worry so much, She’s a sweet girl and a—how would you say it? A damn fine agent.”  

“Isn’t there anyone else she could be assigned to?” he asks, and it feels like begging. Windom is 3 years behind him now, but that's three years he’s spent adapting to solitude. The idea of someone next to him on the field again unsettles him deeply, drudging up feelings he’s worked hard to forget. 

“Agent, I know how you may feel about this. What, with your past and all, but keep an open mind. I think this could be good for you.” 

Could be good?

“Sir–” 

A knock on the door cuts him off, the frosted glass door swinging open without hesitation. The interruption leaves him with his complaints still sticking to his tongue. 

“Gordon! I brought you coffee – you still take it with two sugars, right? Because there’s a cane’s worth in there.” 

His vision is crowded by a woman in an oversized blue FBI jacket—besides her abrupt entry, she’s also out of uniform. Her denim blue jeans hug her waist and fray at the knees, with a jarringly casual t-shirt. The unprofessionalism rubs him the wrong way. 

Two milky-colored coffee cups get dropped on the desk. Despite the breach of protocol, Gordon seems pleased to see her. There’s an affinity in his eyes, but she's a stranger to Dale.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Blue herself! We were just talking about you.”

“We?”

Her hair flicks over her shoulder, and her eyes widen. 

“Oh! Hi! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I’m Blue.” She sticks out her right hand for him to shake– and it knocks straight into the two coffee cups, sending one tumbling towards Gordan and the other into his lap. 

“Shit!” 

He bolts up as hot coffee soaks his trousers. He vaguely registers Gordon's laugh as if an Agent didn’t just waltz in, wreck his office, and Dale’s drycleaning. 

“Oh hell, I’m so sorry!” she shrills, peeling off her jacket frantically. The cheap polyester of the academy-issued zip-up presses against his wool-blend pants, the woman’s feeble attempt to clean the mess. 

Dale’s anger alights, but he breathes deeply to tamp it down. Patience is a virtue, he tells himself.

She continues to dab at his pants, he pushes her hands away, taking the stained jacket from her, and tossing it on the chair behind him. 

“It's fine, it’s fine,” he tells her tightly, despite the heat of his emotions, and the mild burns. When it rains, it pours, he supposes. 

She looks up at him, clearly mortified. 

“My bad, Sir,” she says lamely, and her expression scrunches up more. 

“A hand, Kid?” Gordon asks and she’s more than happy to take her attention away from Dale. Gordon wipes his desk with a handkerchief, and with her hands free, she begins moving damp papers from his desk. 

“Well, I’ll tell ya, Blue, you haven’t changed a bit since they shipped you off,” Gordon says fondly. Blue grimaces in a subtle way that Dale only notices because of the daggers he’s staring into her. 

“I don't know about-” she begins. Gordon steamrolls her, likely not hearing a thing she said. 

“Well, I suppose this is as good an introduction as any. Dale, meet your new partner, Special Agent Georgia Blue. Blue, meet Dale Cooper.”

He wanted to be surprised, really he did, but with fate’s track record, he didn't know why he would expect any better. 

-

Dale goes home late that evening. With him, a stack of manilla folders all relating to one Georgia Blue. He recognizes a level of invasion here. He justifies it simply; Blue is an invasion of his space, so this grants him a degree of invasion to hers. He tries not to think about the morality of it too much, mostly because he knows if he does, he’ll be returning the files unopened. He lets his curiosity win this battle. 

It doesn’t matter anyways; half the documents are redacted, large blocky sharpie lines interrupting every other sentence. He skims over what he deems unimportant– her physical description, age, schooling– when one thing catches his eye. Her bureau status, ambiguously labeled as ‘probationary warning: under review’ 

 The FBI files aren’t all. There are DEA reports, too, all titled Operation Architect. He whispers the words to himself, something familiar in the back of his mind, vague memories and mentions of this Operation Architect. From his understanding, it had been DEA business, just watercooler talk that had made its way down to his office. He reads what he can. 

January 10th 1988, SA Georgia Blue establishes contact with target, indefinite undercover placement to begin immediately.

Undercover placement? The rest of the paragraph is blocked out, and he’s left with more questions than answers. 

His day feels like a pill he can’t swallow. He had vainly hoped that by understanding who this woman was, it would give him some artificial control of the situation, maybe even make it easier to choke down. He doesn’t understand why the dread in his chest continues to bloom. 

He yawns, interrupting his thoughts. He supposes the rest of his investigation can wait for the morning, it wasn’t like the issue was going away anyways. 

-

There are a few blissful moments the next morning when Dale wakes up, where the nightmare of yesterday is just that - a nightmare. The redacted files are forgotten on his desk. He makes his bed and brushes his teeth, and it isn't until he’s halfway through shampooing his hair, while he’s mentally scaling down his to-do list for the day that he remembers his plans are meaningless compared to the derailment that is Agent Blue. That is, his new partner Agent Blue. Just rolling over the word in his mind causes a headache to bud. 

“Agents Cooper and Blue, partners, at your service,” he spits bitterly to himself. He gets shampoo in his mouth.

He’s bitter all the way to the station, questions and resentment swarming his mind.  

He doesn’t even bother to chirp his usual good mornings to the doorman. Anger fits him like a jacket two sizes too small, he has to squeeze his way into it.

Perhaps the comfort of familiarity would calm him, he thought. A warm cup of coffee and the sanctuary of his desk. That’s what he needed. 

“Good morning Dale,” Diane calls as he passes reception. He waves noncommittally. 

“Morning Diane, any messages?” 

“Not today, but Gordon wants to talk to you—he said to just come by when you have time.”

Dale sighs, and wonders what Gordon could possibly have in store for him this time. 

“Is that all?” 

“There’s just one other thing—I had to move your desk closer to the window to make room for the new girl – but don’t worry! I put everything back just as it was, and I was real careful too,” she smiles. 

His eye twitches. 

“Alright, Diane, thanks,” he mutters. 

His desk is a foot from the window now, approximately 3 feet from where he had it before. He recalls the day he requested it to be there—having carefully stood in each corner of the precinct to find the exact shade-to-light ratio to situate himself. 

It’s fine, he reasons, he’ll just squint. 

In the ideal 4-foot spot from the window sits a brand new desk, with his brand new partner. If she hears him approach, she doesn’t show it, eyes glued to her dark computer screen. It doesn’t bother him, not one bit. He had spent the last three years' worth of mornings enjoying his coffee in silence, and, new partner or not, he would like that to remain the same. Who cares if she ruined his wool pants–doesn’t mean she has to say good morning to him too. 

He sits down, much too close to the sun for his liking, and dives headfirst into paperwork. Still, he spares glances at her, in intervals, and mostly just wonders, why? Dale is a good agent, he knows this. His work and reputation precede him; a lone wolf, he thinks of himself. Then, out of nowhere, without warning, he’s saddled with a partner? An agent he’s never even heard of, who is apparently dipping half into DEA work. An agent who’s on probationary warning. 

Perhaps they want him to babysit, he concludes. A rookie agent with some kind of classified disciplinary infraction, and they want him to turn her around. The thought reheats his anger. He’s a federal agent, not an academy trainer, and he has half a mind to let Gordon know that fact. 

Five minutes into tense silence and deep thought, a hand smacks down on his desk. He startles but recovers smoothly.

“For yesterday,” Blue says tersely. His eyes follow her stony expression to her manicured hand. She moves and reveals a crumbled $50 bill she’d slapped on his desk. 

“Agent?” he asks, confused and exasperated. 

“For the pants, alright? Please, just take it.” 

He stares at the bill quizzically. 

“Ma’am, while I can appreciate the gesture, I assure you that it’s not necessary—“

She holds her hand up to stop him. 

“I don’t care. I’m not taking the money back.”

She returns to her desk, intentionally angling away from him, staring intently at the computer screen that he can now see isn’t even turned on. 

“...The power button’s on the back of the monitor.” 

“...right.” 

The computer screen comes to life, and she doesn't spare him a glance. 

Partners, indeed. 

-

When he finally has a moment to see Gordon, he’s gone over his speech 5 times in his head. Gordon, you know I respect you and your decision-making, but I am not a babysitter or some sort of camp counselor. I am formally requesting the reassignment of Agent Blue.

He says it again and again in his head, all the way to the door. He knocks loudly, in a way he knows Gordon will hear, and he gets back a muffled, “Come in!” 

He does. When Gordon catches his eye, his expression is uncharacteristically unreadable. 

“Close the door behind you, Coop,” he tells him. Dale shuts the door and takes his usual seat across from his boss. 

“I’m glad you had the time to talk, I’m sure you have more than a few questions after yesterday,” he says levelly. Dale notes Gordon talking quieter than normal, it gives him an odd feeling like he’s in trouble. 

“I do, Sir. I would like to firstly say that while I respect–”

“Now hang on there, Coop. First things first, I’m going to need you to return those files on Blue.” 

Dale freezes, and his puffed-out chest deflates. It takes him a moment to form a sentence again. 

“...May I ask why, Sir?” 

Gordon sighs and fiddles with the wires of his hearing aid. 

“You haven’t done anything wrong. This is all just a bit more complicated than I can tell you right now. I’m afraid I’m sort of left in the dark here, too. I’ll tell you what I can, but it’s not all that much. Anything else you learn is at the discretion of the bureau - and Blue. And I don't think either of em’ wants you poking around.” 

The situation feels much bigger than him all of a sudden, even though it felt like something he could hold in the palm of his hand just a moment ago. 

“Alright,” is all he can think to say. 

“I knew Blue when she was in the academy, and let me tell you, she is bright. A little prodigy in her class, a bit like you, I’d presume. Anyway, I met her through her field training, she was a NAT here for a little while. Wasn’t too interested in homicide investigation, though. No, she’d taken a real liking to narcotics. Nasty business, I always thought, but to each their own,” 

As he talks, he leans in close to Dale. Gordon’s inside voice is still quite loud, but Dale can tell he’s straining to lower it. 

“She graduated and went straight to doing investigative work with the DEA. If I know you, and I do, I know you’ve picked through her file already. Do you know what Operation Architect is?” 

“I saw the name, but I don't know much about it, no.”

“Neither do I, that’s DEA business, but I know she was on it, undercover for over a year. And I know it didn't go great. She was relocated here after the ordeal.” 

Dale was hoping for this conversation to be more enlightening. He still feels trapped in the dark. 

“I meant it when I said none of this was up to me. My boss wanted Blue assigned to you. I’d wager it's because of your good work, you’ve got a handsome reputation, but I couldn’t tell you for sure. Regardless, she's sticking around for a while, so make the best of it. She’s not quite how I remember her, but as long as she hasn't done a full 180 in a few years, I think you two could get along pretty well.” 

Silence weighs down the room. Dale lets the new knowledge permeate his skin. 

“Alright,” he says because there really isn’t anything else to say. 

“Alright,” Gordon parrots. 

Dale sits like he’s waiting for something else to happen. The crushing finality of it sits on his chest. All the determination he came in there with is withered away to nothing, just ashes of a once burning fire. 

There’s no shirking this now, he has a partner. Cooper & Blue, FBI. 

“I know this isn’t easy for you, and I wish there was more I could do. But to be completely candid with you, I don’t think it’ll be nearly as bad as you’re anticipating.” 

Dale nods absently, drained of anything else to say. Gordon understands. 

“You’re dismissed, Coop.” 

He gets up, politely pushing in the chair. 

Before his hand can touch the knob, Gordon grabs his attention again. 

“Well, one more thing, actually.” Dale tenses, and the dread in his chest that had gone numb begins to flare up again. 

“If I were you, I’d show her a bit of kindness. This line of work is messy, and I can't imagine what the hell happened for her to get sent here.”

Dale can’t imagine either. 

[froody]

Dale Cooper saying weird hot girl shit supercut. 3 hours long.

[harboneger]

Have you given yourself a present today? Its what Dale Cooper would have wanted. find your two good hot cups of black coffee and run with it

[nightmareofthelake]

rabbit's foot and deer antler (Part 1/2)

Dale drinks to much and David helps him back to his room

Dale missed normal days. Normal, mundane days. Days where he sat at his desk for hours doing paperwork. Days where he would sit in front of the TV and fall asleep after the sun went down. Days when he was sure the blood on his hands came from cutting himself while shaving. Days when he was sure he was still human.

But now he was sitting there at the hotel bar. He had long since forgotten how many drinks he had, but that didn't matter to him. As long as the crow keeps pushing a new glass into his hand, everything was fine. Ms. Pheasant stood on stage and sang her song about the tragedies of the past and the blood of the future while Dale stared into the deep amber in his glass. Her singing washed over him and washed everything away, leaving him with nothing but emptiness. Her voice was nothing more than an echo in his head and the alcohol only tasted like empty promises. His whole body felt like TV static and Dale wasn't sure if it was because he was drunk or if it was just because he was too far gone. Was there even anything human left in him?

The echo became more and more distorted until Dale could only hear static and his own heartbeat. The static slowly began to take over his vision too. Shouldn't he be worried? To panic? Do something to regain his senses? Dale just sat there and let it happen. Why bother and delay the inevitable? Dark spots appeared in Dale's vision and slowly began to grow and grow until the detective could see nothing but darkness.

Dale felt...nothing...

There was only emptiness.

There was something heavy on his shoulder. Heavy and hot. It seemed to be tugging at him and stabbing into him. "Detective?" The voice was closer to a whisper than a scream, but to Dale it sounded like he was standing next to an exploding bomb. Dale's limbs felt heavy and hungover, the taste of whiskey bloomed in his mouth, and the endless darkness gave way to blinding light.

“Detective Vandermeer? Are you okay?" The voice sounded familiar, but Dale's brain still wasn't willing to cooperate. He blinked a few times, hoping to get used to the light more quickly, but when he turned to the person next to him, all he saw was a blurry silhouette. "My God! Detective! I was hoping that you would at least give me a quick glance during my show,” the voice sounded as if someone was forcing themselves to put on a cheerful facade. Dale could hear the worry even in his current state. “But ignoring me this whole time did hurt a bit.” Dale's eyes were faster than his brain, which is why he initially had no reaction when he saw David Eilander's face. In fact, he was on the verge of apologizing before his brain suddenly caught up and anger began to spread within him.

The detective just grunted in annoyance and went back to his full glass. He didn't know what had happened to him before the magician had pulled him back into reality, but he did know that it had left him with a massive migraine. Maybe he just drank too much. A gentle squeeze reminded Dale that David still had his hand on his shoulder. He tried to swat it away, but the sudden movement sent Dale swaying and almost kissing the ground, which was fortunately prevented by the magician. "If you had watched my show instead of setting a new hotel drinking record, this wouldn't have happened," David commented as he tried to help the detective to his feet, which only earned him another annoyed grunt. Dale tried to pull away, but quickly realized he couldn't stand without the other man's support. David tightened his grip on the detective and slowly began to lead him towards the exit. "All right then. Bedtime!" Dale didn't have the strength or energy to fight back and just let the other person lead him. His mind screamed at him why he let this happen but, his body refused any attempt of beating the magician. He basically refused to move at all, which resulted in David dragging the detective along with him.

“I hope you come and see my show someday.” David tried to sound casual, trying to hide both his remorse and his longing for the other's attention. “I hope I see a bullet hole between your eyes someday.” Dale forced the words out. It was painful. Every movement was painful. Just what had that bird put in his drink?

The magician patted him on the back. He could understand the hate and he definitely deserved it, but it still hurt. It hurt more than David expected, but there was nothing he could do but bear it in silence. “Before that happens, you might want to sober up a bit…” David dragged the detective to his bedroom door and had him lean against the wall to take some of the weight off himself. “Where is your key?” In response, David only received an angry look from Dale and the magician sighed exhaustively. He had hoped not to have to do this because he was afraid of upsetting the detective even more, but he apparently had no other choice. He carefully began to search through his pockets and found quite a few things. Two lighters. A tissue. Some change. A signed photo of Harvey. And in the left inside pocket of his jacket he found the key.

David was very familiar with the hotel room keys. A simple skeleton key with a small tag with the room number on it. He saw tons of them and owned one himself. But Dale's key was different. Instead of the usual tag, there was something else hanging on it. It was long and white...and furry? “Is that a rabbit’s foot?” The magician looked questioningly at Dale, but he wouldn't get an answer so quickly because the detective was asleep. David sighed and unlocked the room. Since Dale was now completely hanging on David like a wet sack, the magician had no other choice but to carry the detective into the room. He hooked his free arm under the other's knees and in one gentle movement lifted him up. Fortunately, Dale's bed wasn't far and David reached it in a few steps, as he couldn't have carried him for long. His back will definitely hate him tomorrow.

The magician laid him on the bed, took off his jacket and tie and took his shoes off his feet. He didn't dare to remove anything else because he didn't want the detective to get the wrong impression of him. He already had a reason to hate him and he didn't want to give him more. David covered the drunken detective and put the key with the rabbit's foot on the side table. “Rest, detective. And good night."

David closed the door behind him and made his way to Aldous. He could use a drink now.

[Part 2]

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

FICTIONAL WORLD TAG GAME

thanks for tagging me @energievie

---

favorite fictional character from a movie? maybe Winona ryder in girl, interrupted. or Winona ryder in heathers, or Winona ryder in Edward scissor hands, or Winona ryder in -

favorite fictional character from tv? I guess I'll say Mickey Milkovich, even though the real answer might be Carmela Soprano

favorite fictional character of all time? Castiel, he's been my favorite for years even when I've hated supernatural. he might be the angel of thursdays but he's the patron saint of Weird Hot Girls™️

if you could be irl friends with any three fictional characters, who? Veronica from shameless, Dale cooper from Twin peaks, and Charlotte from sex and the city

favorite fictional couple: Gallavich hands down

okay, you can only choose one fictional character to get stranded on and island with: Dana scully from the x files

one fictional world you would hate to be a part of: anything scifi tbh, esp an environment thats very sterile

one fictional world you would love to be a part of: whatever worlds hayao miyazaki is coming up with

your “HEAR ME OUT” fictional couple: I know no one on here will need to hear me out on this, but Kandy i love them so much someday ill write a kandy fic i promise just you wait

and finally, something you’re looking forward to this week?

weathers great, im spending a lot of time with friends and i have a new watercolor set coming this week, life's pretty good

tagging @mmmichyyy @mybrainismelted @mickeym4ndy @mickittotheman @em-harlsnow @spookygingerr @creepkinginc @softmick and anyone else who wants to play and tag me

[a-man-and-his-muse]

"I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. Every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don’t plan it, don’t wait for it, just — let it happen. It could be a new shirt at the men’s store, a catnap in your office chair, or two cups of good, hot, black coffee, like this."

- Dale Cooper, Twin Peaks (1990) by David Lynch & Mark Frost