#It's so emotionally charged

[swaps55]

Hi! I previously asked about Sam’s reasons for initiating with Kaidan in your multiverse fics, thank you for your answer, it was great to read and you’ve really switched back on the side of my brain that likes to analyse literature after uni killed it off lol. I was thinking more about the part where you said

‘I really wanted to push the queerplatonic nature of their relationship - have them be a lot more physically affectionate with each other, but Sam is really keen on physical touch once you give it to him, and the slow burn would have gotten a lot faster, lol’

And my brain is now filled with this AU where they’re exactly how you described them, v touchy feely with each other for a while before a sort of ‘relationship’ or kiss happens. Would you ever consider writing a multiverse fic exploring this concept? I totally get why you wouldn’t as it contradicts Sam’s nature as you said, but man, my mind is reeling with the ‘what-if’s’!!

Love your writing as always and the Cantata re-read count is now aaaatttt maybe 5/6 in the space of 6 months lol. Sending love! 🩷

That anyone cares enough to daydream about, analyze or ask about Opus is just mind blowing to me, so thank you so much for this question!!!!!

So, this may not be exactly what you're after, but I have an AU sitting on a distant backburner that is a Sam character study mashed up with the soulmate-esque idea of "I will find you in any universe."

The general gist is, Kaidan gets yanked out of a universe in which Sam never gets resurrected and the reapers are winning into a universe in which the reapers remained dormant, Sam isn't in the Alliance, and Kaidan died at BAaT. I love the questions it poses and what Sam looks like through such a different lens, but it isn't going to get written any time soon because there are too many challenges with it.

HOWEVER, the dynamic between Sam and Kaidan is different enough that I think a more queerplatonic relationship can exist. The Sam in this universe is a lot more open and free with physical affection.

I wrote a scene that got stuck in my head. It's not great, and I'm not convinced it works, but it does poke at this a little. So here you go!

~

Kaidan pads out into the living room, rubbing the bridge of his nose, sucking in a breath and letting it out slow. Only part of him is surprised to find the holo screen on, and Shepard tucked up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn.

Shepard’s insomnia appears to transcend universes.

Whatever he’s watching looks like some low budget salarian flick, with the silhouettes of a human, an info drone, and a FENRIS mech cracking jokes in the corner of the screen. Kaidan’s heart twists. Same taste in movies, too.

Kaidan almost continues onto the kitchen, not even really sure what he’s after – tea, maybe – but hesitates when he nears the couch. At the brush of their biotic fields Shepard looks up, eyebrow arching ever so slightly. Kaidan looks towards the kitchen, then back to the screen, uncertain.

It’s like looking at home through a mirror. Something he can see, but not touch.  

He circles the couch and sits down beside Shepard, who offers him the popcorn bowl without a word. Kaidan shakes his head and scooches over to leave a healthy space between them. Shepard shrugs a nonchalant shoulder and takes another handful for himself, slouching deeper into the cushions.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks.

“Something like that,” Kaidan replies.

Shepard eyes him for a moment before returning his attention to the movie. On the screen, a dozen salarians wearing wigs of human hair march catatonically across the screen.

“Are those salarians supposed to be dressed as humans, or are they supposed to be humans?” Kaidan asks after moment.

“Depends on how you look at it, I guess,” he says with a thoughtful tilt of his head. “It’s a take on invasion of the body snatchers, pod people, the like.”

“…Isn’t the point of those that you can’t tell they’ve been invaded?”

A lopsided smile tugs at his lip. “Something gets lost in the cultural translation, yeah.”

“Never understood what you see in this kind of stuff,” Kaidan says with a shake of his head.

“It’s unwatchable.”

Shepard scoffs. “There’s an art to a good B-movie. Ones like this can give you some pretty wild insight into how aliens see everyone else.” He throws a piece of popcorn in the air and catches it neatly. “I should show you Revenge of the Gun. Salarians recreated an Earth western shot-for-shot, but didn’t have a good translation for the audio. They just made up whatever they wanted. So you have a movie that was lost in translation from the start get interpreted by an alien race, then put back through a translator for non-salarians. It’s our own story twice removed through alien eyes.”

“And you love it, don’t you?”

“Are you kidding? It’s fucking incredible.”

Kaidan chuckles. On the screen, the info drone sings a jingle aimed at the director’s love of close-up reaction shots. “Well, if the bad movies are so amazing, why the snarky commentary?”

Shepard grins. “Because it’s funny.”

They lapse into silence. But it’s…comfortable. Familiar. Kaidan worries his lip, focusing on the wig-wearing salarians. “Do you not have Blasto here?”

“Blasto? Doesn’t ring a bell, and trust me, it would.”

“Blasto the Jellyfish, with a lover in every port and a gun in every tentacle.” Kaidan shakes his head. “This universe is missing out. You’d love it.”   

“Sounds like it.”

“Last I heard, it made quite a stir when they cast an elcor as Blasto’s next lover.”

Shepard snorts.

They fall silent. On screen, a struggling salarian gets shoved into an actual pod, and comes out expressionless, wearing a wig. Kaidan draws his bare feet up on the couch and rests his chin on his knees.

When was the last time he sat down and watched a movie, any movie, much less a mindless, terrible waste of time? Time had become so precious in those final months; he couldn’t afford to waste it on anything. And why? What was precious about it? What was he saving it for? What was going to be left to spend it on?

The only things he spends time on anymore are fear and bad memories.

“You ok?” Shepard asks.

“Fine.” 

“You know, if I’d been fighting a losing war to save all sentient life, lost friends, lost a partner, and lost my family, I’m betting I wouldn’t be fine.”

You weren’t, but you hid it so well.

Kaidan makes a noncommittal sound.

Shepard’s gaze rests on him, silent, shrewd, and Kaidan shifts on the couch cushion, keeping his eyes on the screen. Shepard grunts, leans forward and sets the popcorn bowl on the coffee table.

“I'm here, you know. I know it's...weird. But. You aren’t alone."

When Kaidan says nothing, Shepard shrugs, and retrieves the popcorn.

Kaidan hunches deeper into himself. How many times had he piled on couches in the ‘Yang’s lounge with the squad? How many times had he and Shepard brushed knees, thighs, dozed on each other’s shoulders? All those casual, intimate touches that were just part of the fabric of life, something he’d never seen or noticed until they were gone?

His eyes slide over to Shepard, whose attention is back on the movie. Before he can think about it any harder, he edges closer. Without a word, Shepard sets the popcorn back down and raises his arm until Kaidan curls into the crook of his side. He hooks Kaidan’s forearm with his fingers, arm a reassuring weight around his shoulders.

He’s soft, solid, warm, all the things Kaidan has lacked.

Like the fight’s gone out of him, Kaidan gives into it and lets his head come to rest against Shepard’s shoulder. A knot in his chest tightens until it’s hard to breathe, but the longer he sits, the longer he stays, it starts to loosen, the lead in his bones a little less heavy.  

They watch the movie curled together, Shepard’s hand running up and down his arm. Every now and then one of the jokes draws out a laugh. This close to him, pressed against his ribs, it’s a resonate rumble against Kaidan’s skin, felt as much as it’s heard. Sometimes he fills the silence with commentary, pointing out something about the scene or the context of the joke.

Kaidan says nothing, sometimes listening, sometimes not – either way it doesn’t seem to matter. But when Shepard’s fingers drift towards Kaidan’s hair and idly comb through it, a sigh rattles out of him, ending with a choke and a sound that says nothing but means everything.

Shepard doesn’t say a word, just lets his fingers do the talking, working Kaidan’s scalp, steady and rhythmic. Kaidan closes his eyes, but something in the air changes when Shepard’s gaze settles over him. He feels it without having to see it, like a sixth sense waking up from a long sleep.

It’s a respite. Temporary. Not something he can keep. But in that moment, for the first time in a long time, Kaidan’s heart rests.

[mellidee]

"I think about losing you and I can't stand it."

----

I think about Illos a lot...

[butdaddyilovehimmm]

S1 // S5

[ineffabildaddy]

(cw; nsfw)

so we all love to read and write about aziraphale and crowley's first time as either a marathon sex experience or a really slow and sensual and drawn out encounter. this is great fun but let's face it, they'd both just cum within about 30 seconds of touching each other intimately for the first time

it'd be half i'm unbelievably turned on right now because it's not possible to be more horny for someone than i am for you and half heaven/hell i love you so so mu- oh shit

[nikkashidashipper]

im going through the same emotional journey watching house md for the first time as i did while watching hannibal for the first time

like i go into it with the smallest of ideas of what the show generally is about, and a hunch that apparently theres two guys who will be fun to imagine as a ship because of some subjectively read homoerotic subtle subtext hints

and then i watch the show and its just. text. not even text the show should actually be called "they never kissed or fucked on screen but it would be less graphic than whatever the fuck im watching happen between these two"

[wejustvibing]

[lost-in-frog-land]

thinking about the misfits and their blood pact.... the promise that they're all gonna get out of there together.... Lenore turning to her friends after her (extremely similar) promise to Annabel started falling apart.... all of them repeatedly breaking the rules to keep eachother safe even before this pact... "no one says goodbye".... I'm so unwell about them

[joshriku]

it is absolutely fucked up that every time they show/talk about charles and erik meeting the emphasis they place on the fact that they felt alone in the world until they met each other and finally felt like they found an equal. fucks me up entirely

[invinciblerodent]

Replaying from the beginning, I don't think I'll ever get over the fact that Astarion actually expected us to not immediately clock that he's a vampire. And I know this has been said before, but it's so hilarious.

He's over there, thinking himself suave and secretive, with such decor as...

A clearly bloody glass cup sitting right in front of his tent, in a puddle of blood, as the very first thing you see

another bloody goblet at his feet, with stains that do not look anything like wine on his white carpet

jars of blood inside his open tent, complete with a very clear bloodstain on the pallet under his bedroll

this clearly labeled bloodbank jar, covered in bloodstains, just on the table right next to him

this veritable dinner table napkin covered in blood, and of course, the pièce de résistance,

the fucking mirror in clear view, angled perfectly so that if he wasn't a vampire, you should be able to see his ass in it in premier plan when approaching from the campfire.

Not only is he very clearly a vampire, but he's also an excessively messy eater, which honestly makes the fact that he is only revealed on the third night a downright humiliating admonishment of the party's collective intelligence.

(Though, armed with the knowledge that he cannot seem to keep blood in his mouth, there is also some real potential here for the first act of physical tenderness he experiences in centuries to be the player character just... absently wiping a drop of their blood off his chin with their hand after a feeding.)

[saturnniidae]

"I should've seen the signs" I feel like Stoick was basically reliving the way he lost Valka.

To him, after a lifetime of wanting nothing but to kill a dragon, Hiccup's suddenly and inexplicably changed his mind. To him, Hiccup saying he can't kill them is just like when Valka refused to and tried convincing others as well, then as a result was 'killed' by one herself.

To him, way Hiccup tossed his weapon and shield to the side then approached Hookfang while speaking about how dragons aren't what people think they are probably bares an uncomfortable resemblance to the way Valka put down her weapon and stared a dragon in the eyes and as a result was taken.

To him, attempting to do anything but preemptively defend yourself against a dragon will only end in tragedy, so he has to do anything he can to stop Hiccup before it's too late.

(And just like with Valka, he unintentionally escalated the situation by trying to protect Hiccup but only agitated the dragon, causing it to panic and react, inadvertently putting someone he loves in danger. again)

Stoick of course, wasn't acting rationally, but it makes sense when you think about how traumatizing Valka's 'death' must've been for him (and how much Hiccup reminss him of her); he watched her get taken, presumably killed, and couldn't do anything about it.

[0rdis]

Failled the 'don't think about Yi Sang's potato from Hell Chicken and see how similar it is to Dongbaek' challenge for the 20th day in a row

The talk of blooming and barren ground. And then immediately pivoting to 'burnt things are significant' please you can't do this to me

[wigglebox]

(Post) First (Kiss) [x] 🌼

[yume-fanfare]

thinking about how hokuto is chill with yuzuru, loves tori a lot, hates eichi deeply and won't pick up the phone in case it's him calling (he is his boss and this has led to trouble), and has whatever it is that he has going on w wataru

[bugwolfsstuff]

I think converting to paganism was the best thing to happen to me because like

I never felt God or Jesus and only prayed when I slept at my grandparents house and they made me pray for 'mammy and daddy' or at lunch during school when we had to sing that 'bless the hands that made the food' song (I cannot remember the lyrics)

But i've felt Dionysus at my best and worst moments, dancing with me at my crazy messed up sugar high moments and holding me at my worst suicidal moments telling me i'm okay.

and i've felt Apollo when the sun shines brightly as I listen to music or write.

and i've felt Artemis, Áine, The Morrigan, Nemesis and Arawn be angry for me when i've prayed for some form of revenge/justice against some creepy old boy/man

and i've felt Hekate in some form as I pray for protection when things go bump in the night and i'm a little too paranoid.

And I know i'm not the best pagan because i'm primarily a riordanverse blog and I like to read comics based off the pantheons I worship but I really feel like the gods don't care about who I am here

[disassociation-culture-is]

dissociation culture is having a breakdown about something you’re really upset about and feeling silly because you can’t even remember what it was about, not because it was unimportant but because your brain revoked that information

.

[hand-of-devotion]

Fearne kissing Ashton’s forehead and Deni$e kissing their cheek to say “Good luck, I’ll see you later.”

Dorian kissing Ashton’s cheek and their mother kissing their forehead to say “Be strong, be safe, we need you here.”

Orym kissing Ashton’s forehead and Imogen kissing their cheek to say “I know you mean well and I’m sorry it got to the point that it did.”

Btw. If you even care.