fauxfires: ruumiinlaulaja: ruumiinlaulaja: I just can’t get over Garrett’s beefy arms ho
fauxfires:ruumiinlaulaja:ruumiinlaulaja:I just can’t get over Garrett’s beefy arms hot damn. #fucking lmao @ that last pic with the side-by-side with anders ‘beanpole’ mcmage (via fauxfires)I know right??? Which is why I love to watch them stand side by side and make comparisons. Hawke’s guns vs Anders’ noodle arms. Idk why but it’s just adorable. Imagine these two arm wrestling. There would be no competition. Although idk, maybe Hawke would let him win sometimes.you know what, this was going to be a short joke fic but fuck it, just take it allSwift Illuminations[M!Handers, Red/Purple Mage Hawke, probably worksafe, ~2500 words, also available on AO3)It happened for the first time in the Hanged Man.Varric was there, shuffling the deck, and Isabela, too - she’d tripped her way into her customary seat at his table, sprawled across it like a lazy cat, and ordered ales for them all on Varric’s dime before she even said hello.“Morning, Isabela,” Hawke said.“It’s three in the afternoon,” Anders chipped in, squinting at her in the warm, champagne light filtering down in long rays through the stained old windows. Dust danced out in the open, drifting down like feathers to land in his hair; he had taken the chair directly in the sunbeam, claiming he felt the cold - but Varric suspected it had rather more to do with Hawke, who was in his own customary seat right beside Anders’s, and whose hand had been suspiciously below table-level for most of the last ten minutes. Even now Hawke’s bare bicep moved, corded muscle rippling with the unseen manipulation of what Varric suspected was most likely a thumb, stroking along a certain feather-wearing mage’s thigh, following the seam of the cloth. Keep reading -- source link
#handers#fanfic