#<- slash maybe

[homoeroticjunoincident]

it was only once, but once was enough. i was leaning on heart’s side, near sleep, listening to him talk. there was something in the curve of his lips that made me squint, as if i was the mirror of his light. and i thought, i want to stay like this forever. it was the contentment of heart’s touch, heart’s warmth - then, it almost seemed infinite, or at least that the end didn’t matter as much as this tiny moment. it was him slack against me as if all our debts had been cleared. it wasn’t desire. it wasn’t desperation. it was good - simply. no pain, no counter. and that’s almost impossible. i didn’t jerk awake at the thought, my hands didn’t go to my arms as if to crack open my skin and pluck the feelings out. i just slumped even further, vulnerable the way i should never be.

how did it start? that’s a stupid question. it started the moment i came into existence. it never stopped. we were friends, before. it was not a childhood. we could never have a childhood. but there was a time, slight as it may have been, where we were alive and happy and free. it doesn’t sound real as i’m saying it. it sounds like a terrible, terrible lie. but it’s true.

regardless of how it started it’s here. and - unlike back then - i need to fix it. this is not a story that can go well. [we are not a story that can go well.]

you didn’t hear the conversation in the hallway. soul had called us art. i wasn’t sure what to make of it, but heart was. you know what he said? art just has to be. usually when it comes to topics such as this, heart and i can hold a united front against soul. but…

art cannot just be. art has a purpose, why else would you make it?

heart thinks art can just be whatever you want. no. art can be twisted and broken and horrible and wrong. art has a purpose and if it does not follow that purpose it should not be. art is a tool.

don’t you get it? i’m a tool. this feeling, it’s rusting me over. it’s going to break me someday, i can see it.

soul avoids us more and more these days. it’s as if he knows something is going to happen.

i don’t like it. i don’t like it at all.

[zethsmo]

what a quirky little moment

[eloscore]

Peace will come to You, and Me, and The World

alt with woke beam YAYERS!!!

[lee-holder]

An exercise in character design, as well as my own little theory as to what Wander is:

I always thought it'd be funny/beautifully tragic if sweet hippie Wander was the last of a (cartoonishly) blood-thirsty war mongering species: everyday is all about survival and the honor of battle and epic fight domes against a desert landscape... But they're all still fluffy and adorable. Basically, his homeworld is very Klingon-meets-Mad-Max, but everyone looks like a Tribble. When they ran out of planets to bully, they eventually turned on each other, naturally wiping themselves out... With one little exception, of course:

[what-if-this-happens-instead]

I hear your 'theo mentions some horrific bit of past trauma causually' HC and I raise you Liam causually mentioning Theos' past trauma in front of others. Playing 'never have I ever' and Liam goes "never have I ever lost 3 internal organs" and the packs like ?1!?!? while Theo goes 'I don't think it counts as losing them if I know where they are.' "put your fucking finger down I know you have no idea where your kidney went."

[ekingston]

So it’s 2019, because that’s what it said on the screenshot I used to create the gif, and you’re casually browsing Netflix, grateful to be alive in a world where COVID or an internationally devastating shift in political alliances are but distant echoes of a future that may never come to pass, and you happen upon a movie that’s just been added, called BREACH.

Your Netflix synopsis says: When a man turns up dead on the shore of a remote mountain town and a local girl vanishes without a trace, it’s up to a local detective to put the pieces together. But when she rescues an attractive tourist off the side of the road, the investigation takes an intimate—and dangerous—turn.

And you’re like, ‘eh, nothing I haven’t seen before,’ (though the LGBTQ label is interesting), but then the preview starts autoplaying and IS THAT KATIE MCGRATH?! And it IS. So now you have no choice but to sit through the trailer.

Nocturne by Blanco White is playing, calmly at first, swelling as it goes on. You’re presented with a wide shot of a towering dam, the camera slowly rising up the water-streaked concrete before breaching the top. An enormous lake BOOMS into view, jagged mountains beyond it, forming a serrated edge against the lightening sky. It’s early morning. Mist is rolling down the densely forested mountains and over the water.

(You wonder if this production used the same locations (or rather special effects) as Les Revenants did, and yes, it absolutely did, because I loved the atmosphere of that show and I adore mountain towns with enormous lakes and it is, to date, the most Hollywood version of non-Paris France I’ve ever seen.)

The wide shot narrows to a ground-level closeup of the pebbled shoreline, pulling slowly away from the water until we glimpse a piece of discarded police tape, fluttering on the breeze. The camera pans past a pair of sneakers and then a pair of uncomfortable-looking high heels, wobbling on the rocky beach. It’s a news crew, reporting live on the disappearance of a young girl. The camera pushes past them, staying at ground-level as it leads us into the woods, where we find the paws of a canine unit, splashing in a shallow mountain stream. There’s the sound of police radios, and then we see the boots of a police search party. We stop at a much smaller but otherwise identical pair of leather boots. The camera pans up at our detective—it’s Katie McGrath! Finally!

She looks amazing, obviously. For the sake of this miraculously being a supercorp AU, her character is a fair bit more acerbic version of our girl Lena Luthor, except we’re time traveling so she’s now in her early 40s, her dark hair greying slightly at the temples (let a girl dream), her jawline somehow sharper than ever, freckles proudly on display in the natural light. Her hair is hanging loosely over her shoulders, looking like it hasn’t seen a brush since she last laid down. Lena is wearing slacks, a wrinkled dress shirt and a men’s blazer that is slightly too large for her. She stares off into the woods, chin jutting, a muscle jumping in her jaw, her fingers absently playing with a pack of cigarettes.

CUT TO:

Early nighttime. A dark mountain road, lit sparsely, tall pine trees walling it in on both sides. We see over Lena’s shoulder, her hands on the steering wheel, as her cruiser’s headlights sweep over the shape of a woman, bent over the engine of her stalled car. The woman—blonde, mid-thirties, wearing cut-off jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt far too thin for the late hour—turns when the car appears, squinting into the light. It’s Kara.

Lena comes to a stop behind her and rolls her window down. She calls out, “You need a ride?”

CUT TO:

The dimly lit interior of a spartan living room. Lena dumps blankets on the couch.

Kara asks, “You sure this is okay, me sleeping here?”

CUT TO:

Daytime, and we’re at the sheriff’s office. Lena, wearing a clean-but-barely-ironed dress shirt, drinks coffee as if her life depends on it. Mike Matthews, the sheriff’s deputy, makes fun of Lena’s uncharacteristic hospitality.

“What was I supposed to do?” Lena asks him, as we see a flashback shot of Lena watching Kara over the rim of her coffee cup, earlier that morning. “Next town’s hours away.”

We see Kara maintaining eye contact with Lena for a moment, the corners of her eyes crinkling, as we hear Mike telling Lena, back at the office, “You won’t even let me stay at your place.”

“You had bed bugs,” Lena points out. Then she raises an eyebrow, looking away, adding as a casual sidenote, “Plus she’s prettier than you.”

WLWNESS/SAPPHICTROCITY/LESBIANANIGANS CONFIRMED.

CUT TO:

It’s evening, and we’re in Lena’s kitchen. Kara is making dinner when Lena walks in, feeding scraps to—and this is very important! but only to me—Lena’s dog. Did I mention this is actually also a crossover with Person of Interest, and for absolutely no other reason than I need Lena to have Bear the Brilliant Belgian Malinois? “I see you made a friend,” Lena says. It’s unclear whether she’s talking to Bear or Kara.

The news is on, talking about the missing girl. Lena turns it off before settling into a chair near the open doorway, her legs splayed wide at rest. Bear immediately settles at her side, chin resting on Lena’s thigh. We all kind of want to be a Brilliant Belgian Malinois, in that moment. Kara asks, indicating the TV, “You think she’s still alive?”

“Could be.” Lena digs for her pack of cigarettes and pulls a lighter from a kitchen drawer, probably shoving an old walkman she’s had forever out of the way to get to it, scratching the course hair between Bear’s ears before settling back down. “‘Course if you asked me last week, I may have told you something different.”

Kara turns off the stove so you can all stop worrying, and starts plating the food. “What changed?”

Lena pauses while she lights her cigarette and takes a deep drag, the blue smoke drifting through the doorway outside as Lena savors it, slowly breathing out as gays the world over are forced to reconsider the merits of smoking. Like yes, it kills you in terrifying, excruciating ways, but LOOK AT HER. Lena watches Kara intently, but doesn’t answer her question.

CUT TO:

We see Lena in her bedroom, late at night, flipping through case files. Her fingers (which, EXTREME closeup, EXTREME CLOSEUPS OF HER HANDS THROUGHOUT THIS ENTIRE PRODUCTION, hover over a grainy picture of a young white man, wearing a red baseball cap. His back is turned so we can’t see his face, though if you hated hard enough back in the day you may have a hunch. As the camera circles around the room, Lena is replaced by Kara, the bedroom now bathed in golden morning light. She’s looking through the photos too, her fingers shaking. We see her react to the photograph of the ballcapped man, before quickly putting things back exactly as they were.

CUT TO:

An evening shot of the lake, the water wrinkling in the breeze, softly lapping at the shore. We hear the sound of something large hitting the water.

CUT TO:

A pee break, actually, and you’re gonna go ahead and grab a snack while you’re up. There sure is a lot of water in this movie. Wait, weren’t you just watching a trailer? Why does it feel like an hour has passed? Is it the hands? How many times have you hit that pause button? What year is it?

CUT TO:

Lena and Kara are at the Lake Pub. It’s dimly lit and smoky. Lena drinks whiskey. Across from her, Kara stirs a glass of soda with her pinkie finger. They’re regarding each other so openly you genuinely start to feel a bit faint.

“You’re looking at me like I’m one of your suspects,” Kara says.

You disagree. That’s not what suspicion looks like. You’re sure, because you’ve seen Katie McGrath look at approximately 99.9% of her female costars this way.

Lena keeps her gaze level, unflinching and forward. “I look at everyone like that,” she lies.

A beat.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Kara says.

You’re feeling suddenly thirsty, too.

CUT TO:

Red and blue lights illuminate the deep indigo sky over the lake. A body is being dragged from the water as Lena watches, clenching her stupendous jaw. Seriously, how is she growing hotter all the fucking time if storybook-princess-turned-mesmerizing-murderess was her baseline?

CUT TO:

Lena, sitting in her parked car. She slams her fist against the steering wheel. (Don’t worry, no hands were injured in the making of this film.) It’s overlayed with imagery of a burial service, a US flag draped over the coffin, a pair of grieving women—one middle aged, the other a pretty 20-something brunette, surrounded by officers in dress blues. Lena is there too, looking dashing in her uniform, but also like she hasn’t slept in a week.

CUT TO:

Lena is standing in the center of her living room, rubbing her brow with her long, spatulate fingers. Kara is hovering in a corner a couple of feet away, cautious. “Just say it,” she whispers. “You think I killed him.”

Lena releases a breath that is half-huff, half-groan. “I’m not sure it even matters anymore,” she says.

“How can you say that?” Kara asks. When Lena doesn’t answer her, Kara steps closer and touches her arm. Lena turns as if she’s going to shrug Kara off, and the instant you begin to wonder what the hell this movie is supposed to be about, you stop caring because Lena abruptly pulls Kara closer and they kiss, urgent and rough.

You’re not sure if your ears are ringing or if the sound you’re hearing is a chorus of lesbians all over the world exploding into cheers & wild applause.

As the music builds to a crescendo, we see a quick series of images:

Lena presses Kara against her bedroom wall, Lena’s lips at her jaw, her fingers undoing the button of Kara’s jeans before they slip inside her pants; your life flashes before your eyes; Lena points her gun at someone, but we don’t see who; Lena’s fingers support Kara’s chin as she gently dabs at her bloodied brow with a piece of gauze; headlights illuminate a figure in the road, mirroring Lena picking up Kara, but this time the smiling man in the red baseball cap (again seen only from the back) is the one pulling over & rolling down his window.

The dam’s floodgates open, a roar of white water pouring through.

The music stops abruptly as we end on a final, long shot. Lena stands on top of the dam, looking down, the sky above her, the dizzying depths below. The camera falls away, down down down, until it breaches the surface of the water and sinks into the dark water beneath.

Kara (voiceover, pleading, breathless): “If I go under, I’ll pull you down with me.”

Lena (voiceover, raw but full of conviction): “I’m a pretty good swimmer. And I have a feeling you are, too.”

CUT TO BLACK.

You blow out a breath and resign yourself to your fate. You hit the mute button, and press play.

Also I was proud of how this one manip turned out so I’m sharing the version that makes it marginally more clear that Kara isn’t randomly & uncomfortably touching her own face:

Like I said: SO MANY CLOSEUPS.

[knockknockitsnickels]

I think this is one of my favorite lines from the Wraith route because of (imo) how much the meaning changes depending on if you got there via Spectre or Nightmare. For Spectre, it honestly strikes me as a genuine question. Why are you doing this to her? If you're on the Spectre route, you presumably already know the Narrator can't really be trusted, since you had to reject his reward to get here. What are you hoping to gain from continuing to hurt her? For Nightmare, it honestly just makes me sad. As the Shifting Mound describes her, "She desires only companionship, but the only thing she knows is how to hurt." This line feels like a plea from someone who genuinely doesn't understand why you keep rejecting her. She wants to be with you, but she just can't understand how to do that in a way which doesn't hurt you.

[buggy9291]

Leather 🎉🎉🎉

[ksdesign]

i’m still thinking about them

[bacchuschucklefuck]

[bossuary]

So, the companions each have their dialogue with Solas as you make the endgame push to confront Elgar'nan.

But I...see, I have a question about whether or not that's the first time any of them interact with him after Tearstone. Does the game make it clear where Solas emerges when he escapes from the regret prison? Because if he comes out where Rook went IN...hooboy.

Rook gets blasted into the I've Made a Huge Mistake Museum. Solas takes the dagger from them and cuts his way back into the world. Does Solas come out...like...right there where Rook got zapped?

Because I am dying for that scene.

Really just NEED TO KNOW what the companions say to Captain Inevitable Betrayal when he pops out of the Fade without Rook.

As Solas strides past whoever is left on Tearstone Island, giving the corpse of Ghilan'nain one of his patented Sad Smiles...

Does Taash take a flaming berserker run at him? Nevermind getting swatted away, just rolling back up onto their feet, smoke billowing.

Does Emmrich set his jaw against incivility, swallowing the thousand forbidden curses he has called to mind in favor of a reasonable greeting or question?

Does Harding crackle with an unyielding blue power as she lifts a wall of stone in his way, demanding answers as a titan, as a friend?

Does Lucanis move to strike when Taash moves--he and Spite having adapted to the benefits of a pack hunt--with a godkiller tremor still pulsing in his limbs?

Does Bellara appeal to memory, to who Solas was, her voice strengthened by the hardest-earned lessons, to ask where Wisdom can be found in any of this destruction?

Does Neve look at the faint scratches on his ancient armor, the tension in the way he grips the dagger, and ask Solas to explain why power makes him think he's right.

Do Davrin and Assan block the way as they were always meant to, a last line of defense between Solas and the world he intends to destroy?

[dragonwysper]

Seeing all these other pwASPD talk about how they hate socializing because they don't care about people's drama and they think it's all stupid is so interesting to me. I also dislike socializing, but like I DO wanna hear the drama. It has to be interesting, but I like sitting back and listening to these crazy-ass stories. It's entertaining as hell, and also saves me from the agony of trying to come up with a non-canned response for small talk.

[eldar-of-zemlya]

Jim brought Spock a gift from his shore leave in Iowa. Spock didn't quite get the hint..

[front-facing-pokemon]

[candleangel3]

repost because i saw a mistake but soulsona time

[daily-property-police]

Jimmy has interacted with Avid, Jimmy is no longer cringe, Congrats Jimmy