anonymous asked:

What if the human on the lost light attracted multiple yanderes? Can you imagine Rodds or Drift fighting over them or maybe even Skids and Swerve?

Why yes.  Yes I can…  ;)

We’ve already talked about what yandere Skids and Swerve would look like, so I imagine the two of them fighting over their mutual object of affection would be less confrontational, and more subtly manipulative.  Skids is a shy, awkward vent creeper, pining over your beauty from afar, and Swerve is an affection starved loner, so there’s no way they would actually directly fight each other over you.  Instead they both up their game 5000%.  Each one trying to outdo the other in terms of courtship, whether it be forcing you to sit through inviting you over for an all night movie marathon, or leaving even more flowery and borderline erotic poetry in your habsuite without your knowledge.

Rodimus and Drift is another matter entirely…  

Rodimus is like the baby yandere.  The kind that doesn’t even realize he’s a yandere until he starts obsessing 24/7.  He uses his position as captain to get you to spend time with him or vice versa.  He’ll clear your schedule and assign you to some meaningless, simple task on the bridge just so he can spend some one on one time with you.  Also, if he catches anyone showing a particular interest in you, they suddenly find themselves with a crushing workload clearing out the lower decks, far away from where you are.  

Drift is a bit different.  He’s suave.  He’s subtle.  He pays you pretty compliments all the time and genuinely acts very pleasant around you.  On the surface he seems like the perfect gentlemech, but on the inside he’s like a black hole of obsessive lust.  He has a shrine dedicated to you in his habsuite filled with stolen items of yours that he uses to try to complete the perfect love spell.

When the two of them fight over you it’s all strained smiles and poisonous glares and thinly veiled threats.  It’s almost like a game to them, with you as the prize.  “I’d advice you to concede captain.  Your time is better suited to working towards something that you can actually accomplish.  Like steering us off course yet again, for example.”  “Drift, if you have a problem with my methods, I have no qualms about kicking you off the ship again.”

Carl’s scenes set him up as a witness to the suffering caused by violent, young men in Twin Peaks. First Richard, now Steven. He’s wisened, quiet, elderly… like their opposite in every possible way. 

Watching and taking in the world at the end of his days, he reflects on what he sees: “God,” he said the first time, at the intersection. And the second, at the trailer park, “It’s a fucking nightmare.” 

He’s passive, in these moments–but somehow that passivity feels like an action in itself. The action of watching. Of seeing. Understanding. There are tinges of something with a Buddhist flavor, there. And it’s beautiful.

42nd annual César Awards winners


“Divines” produced by Marc-Benoit Créancier, directed by Houda Benyamina
“Elle” produced by Saïd Ben Saïd, Michel Merkt, directed by Paul Verhoeven — WINNER
“Frantz” produced by Eric Altmayer, Nicolas Altmayer, directed by François Ozon
“Les Innocentes” produced by Eric Altmayer, Nicolas Altmayer, directed by Anne Fontaine
“Ma Loute” produced by Jean Bréhat, Rachid Bouchareb, Muriel Merlin, directed by Bruno Dumont
“Mal de Pierres” produced by Alain Attal, directed by Nicole Garcia
“Victoria” produced by Emmanuel Chaumet, directed by Justine Triet


Houda Benyamina, “Divines”
Paul Verhoeven, “Elle”
François Ozon, “Frantz”
Anne Fontaine, “Les Innocentes”
Xavier Dolan, “Juste La Fin Du Monde” — WINNER
Bruno Dumont, “Ma Loute”
Nicole Garcia, “Mal De Pierres”


Judith Chemla, “Une Vie”
Marion Cotillard, “Mal de Pierres”
Virginie Efira, “Victoria”
Marina Foïs, “Irréprochable”
Isabelle Huppert, “Elle” — WINNER
Sidse Babett Knudsen, “La Fille de Brest”
Soko, “La Danseuse”


François Cluzet, “Médecin de Campagne”
Pierre Deladonchamps, “Le Fils de Jean”
Nicolas Duvauchelle, “Je Ne Suis Pas Un Salaud”
Fabrice Luchini, “Ma Loute”
Pierre Niney, “Frantz”
Omar Sy, “Chocolat”
Gaspard Ulliel, “Juste La Fin Du Monde” — WINNER


Oulaya Amamra, “Divines” — WINNER
Paula Beer, “Frantz”
Lily-Rose Depp, “La Danseuse”
Noémie Merlant, “Le Ciel Attendra”
Raph, “Ma Loute”


Jonas Bloquet, “Elle”
Damien Bonnard, “Rester Vertical”
Corentin Fila, “Quand On A 17 Ans”
Kacey Mottet Klein, “Quand On A 17 Ans”
Niels Schneider, “Diamant Noir” — WINNER


Nathalie Baye, “Juste La Fin Du Monde”
Valeria Bruni Tedeschi, “Ma Loute”
Anne Consigny, “Elle”
Déborah Lukumuena, “Divines” — WINNER
Mélanie Thierry, “La Danseuse”


Gabriel Arcand, “Le Fils de Jean”
Vincent Cassel, “Juste La Fin Du Monde”
Vincent Lacoste, “Victoria”
Laurent Lafitte, “Elle”
Melvil Poupaud, “Victoria”
James Thierrée, “Chocolat” — WINNER

Keep reading
Carl Said It - DetroitBabe - Twin Peaks [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

my little gift for @haroldwrens for the @countdowntotwinpeaks‘ fanworks exchange.

i’m a mess so this is an assemblage of discontinued vignettes rather than, like, an actual story with plot, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

see you on the other side when we all die on may 21st

The little boy in Vegas looks both ways before he crosses the street. So careful and independent, walking towards that car bomb. And I’m reminded of it when we see the other little boy hit in the crosswalk. He didn’t look both ways. He let the adults around him tell him when to cross. He trusted. His mother did, too–that people would follow the traffic rules. Stay in the lines. Behave like decent human beings.

Faith doesn’t save you, in this world. Faith in other people, in the rules. In things turning out fair and square and even. Evil is a brutal force, here.

One boy had a loving mother who would do anything for him–and it wasn’t enough. The other was left alone and neglected. He only survives by random chance. One is mourned by a crowd of people who know him–watching horrified and heartbroken as his mother cradles his body. In Vegas, the cops come and work on Dougie’s car, but the little boy is left alone. No one knows he’s there. No one cares.

Love doesn’t save you, in this world. Lynch is too realistic for that. Its value comes from other places. 

What are those places? Carl comes to mind. He didn’t do much for Teresa Banks, but we see him in a new light, here. He took simple pleasure in the mother and the boy, before the tragedy. Smiled at their game. An old man–the actor is 90–with very little to show for his life. But he wants to sit in the park, and share people’s joy.

And he shares their sorrow. Watches the boy’s spirit fade off into the clouds. Comforts the mother. Not with words–of course there are no words. Just with a look. Sharing. Witnessing. Experiencing that moment together. 

I’ve always felt Lynch’s philosophy hinges on compassion. Part of that is a bare realization of the unfairness and cruelty of life. He’s unflinching in that. But he’s also resolute in showing us it isn’t the whole story.

Love doesn’t save us, but it makes it possible to keep trying.