heat hawk

for @antcommander


Hawke’s hands are so much larger than his own. He presses fingertip against fingertip, softly moving to his palm. Tracing the lines which web, all the little cracks in skin, circling every bump and bone. A smile quirks on his lips when he sees Hawke’s fingers twitch with the feeling, even as he sleeps. His breathing even and calm, eyes closed and peaceful in dreaming. Fenris lies beside him, hand drifting over hand, as the fire begins to ebb down low.

Soft warm light, flickering over the both of them. Fenris traces the line of Hawke’s nose, the worrisome line of his mouth. A thumb drifting over lips, a feel he knows too well and not well enough. He moves through his beard, follows his jaw to the shell of his ears. Through coal colored hair, and back down again. Over shoulder to collarbone, to the well in the middle, broad chest and sturdy ribs, the heart that beats underneath.

He feels it underneath his palm, that steady rhythm, a peaceful song. He closes his eyes, feels the heat that radiates from Hawke. His eyes open again when a hand slips over his own. “What are you doing?” He asks, voice hoarse from sleep, his eyes barely able to remain open. Fenris shakes his head, pulls at the hair on Hawke’s chest. Hawke swats his hand away with a yelp. Fenris falls back into the bed, long white hair splaying out over the pillow.

“You are like a big, hairy bear,” Fenris says.

“And you are a small, handsome elf,” Hawke tells him with a smile. Fenris lets out a huff, crossing his arms, turning his face away from Hawke. It hides the slight shade of red that blossoms on his cheeks. Hawke tells him often - how handsome, how kind, how sweet… He never knows how to respond.

“I am of average size for an elf.” Hawke laughs, rolling over to drape an arm over Fenris’s chest, burying his head into the crook of his neck.

“Tell what you were doing,” Hawke murmurs, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“I was,” Fenris pauses, mulling it over, “memorizing.” Hawke shifts, raising himself up, hands pressing into the mattress. He leans over Fenris, until he finds the eyes that will not meet his own. Even without seeing it properly in the low light, he knows the blush that troubles Fenris’s cheeks.

“Does that mean I get to do the same?” Hawke leans back, moving to kneel at the end of the bed. Fenris doesn’t protest as Hawke pulls down the blanket, simply moving to lean against the headboard, watching as Hawke moves. The first touch is light against his ankle. Fingertips that come to rest against skin, feeling the heat of Hawke’s palm. His thumb moves in slow, affectionate, circles. Hawke smiles up at Fenris as he begins to move.

He keeps his thumb on the line of bone, drifting upwards. He takes care not to trace markings, lyrium chains, and shows his appreciation for all that Fenris is. Hawke glances up from his work often, to see the yes in Fenris’s expression, the way he bites at his bottom lip. He circles around Fenris’s knee, and ever upwards. A hand kneads against his thigh, teasing touches that never quite go where Fenris wants him to. Hawke smiles at Fenris’s intake of breath when his touch get near, then shifts to his hips.

He trails a finger over hipbones, and splays a hand over Fenris’s belly. He appreciates the hard muscle he feels, satisfaction in knowing that it’s not just muscle now – Hawke’s cooking has seen to that. Strong hands over ribs, a squeezing that isn’t tight, until Hawke cups his face in his hands.

Hawke leans forward, brushes lips over Fenris’s. A light kiss but deepening still, Fenris is lost when Hawke pulls away. Eyes half-lidded, a hand on Hawke’s arm. More than his human heat, more than the fire, there’s a burning of warmth in Hawke’s eyes - a fondness that Fenris melts underneath. “I know all of you,” Hawke says as he tucks a lock of hair behind pointed ears, “I love every inch.”

10

If you’re a PKMN and NBA fan like I am, then you’ll love this.

Pokemon NBA, by Micah Coles.

If you weren’t a sports enthusiast, now you are! What is your favorite team(s)?

Awesome television shows

The Fosters on freeform

The Flash on CW

Supergirl on CW

DC’s Legends of tomorrow on Cw

Timeless on NBC

Riverdale on CW

Young Justice on Cartoon Network (the show was canceled, but was recently renewed for a third season)

Voltron: Legendary Defenders on Netflix

What if the Larry O'Brien trophy was custom made every year for the new NBA Champion? Well, a graphic designer brought that idea to life, in this incredible fusion of team logo’s with the leagues biggest prize. 

Image via Imgur

Laughing (fHawke/Fenris fluff, ~1250 words)

k4t3yk4t requested a Fenris/purple fHawke fic and I got all fluffy!  I hope that Fenris reads all right, I’ve not written from his perspective before.  Silly broody elf :)

——-

Hawke laughs at everything.

At first it grates on Fenris’ nerves.  Must everything be a joke or a snide remark with her?  They could be standing ankle deep in the blood of cutthroats and mercenaries and she would laugh about needing to go shopping for a new pair of shoes.  He does not understand how she can be so flippant about everything when the world is so gray and stark.

But despite her ready grin and her quick wit, her actions say a different thing about her.  She helps children find their parents, gives money to people starving in the street, helps Fenris hunt down slavers and put them to death.  And though through it all her smile is never far from her lips, he begins to see something deeper behind her eyes.

One night she makes a comment about his looks, just a small string of words about him being handsome.  His face burns and he stammers something gruff back to her, but it startles him to realize how pleased he is to hear it.  He tries to ignore the thought, though.  Surely it was only another of her jokes.

Yet sometimes when they fight together it seems she fights at his side more and more, keeping enemies off his back, sometimes taking down his opponents before he can even get to them.  He notices she asks him to help patrol more and more often, that she comes to visit him on quiet nights just to talk.  He does not allow himself to think more of it, though; that way is dangerous.

One day he’s knocked flat on his back by a Tal-Vashoth, and his vision flickers in and out, his head spinning.  He can’t get up and though his hand still reaches vaguely for his sword he’s only half-conscious, his breaths quick and shallow.  Of course it had to happen when the wretched healer isn’t with them.  He groans.

He hears Hawke’s yell, a challenge to the Qunari, and he hears a strangled groan from his opponent, the sound of the impact when the body hits the ground.  Then Hawke’s at his side, her hand touching his face.  Her skin is so soft.  He hadn’t realized it would feel so soft.

Keep reading

The Note - F!Hawke/Isabela

Hawke knows that Isabela won’t stay with her forever and she asks her to leave a note before she goes. Takes place before the Arishok fight. 2027 words.

***

It was hot in Kirkwall. 

The sun beat down on the cobblestones of Hightown, making the ladies fan themselves in their constricting dresses and gentlemen dab at their forehead with their handkerchiefs. Most of the vendors had given up for the day and were closing down their stands to retreat indoors. 

“It’s too hot to be out!” one of the noblewomen nearby was saying as she fanned herself furiously. “I’m going to faint if that servant doesn’t hurry up with the water!”

Hawke narrowed her eyes as she stood in front of one of the vendors. She recognized her as Fifi de Launcet, the daughter of one her mother’s friend. Leandra Hawke had tried to get them to befriend each other at one point, holding tea at the estate and forcing Hawke into a frilly dress. It had ended badly, as Hawke could have predicted, when Hawke had dropped one of her scones and said, “Maker’s saggy balls!” rather loudly. The “lady” had almost fainted dead away at that as well. 

“What are we going to do about this heat?” Fifi said to one of her friends who had an equally stupid simper on her face. “I don’t want to go inside. It’s such a bore, and I really will faint if that dratted servant doesn’t hurry up. Honestly, you’d think we don’t pay them.”

“Why don’t you get your own water?” Hawke snapped before she could stop herself. “And maybe if you didn’t wear those ridiculous corsets you wouldn’t be having this problem.” Truthfully, Hawke’s own clothing - fur-lined Ferelden armor - was hot as well and making sweat drip down her back, but she didn’t see any need to mention that. What she wouldn’t give to be wearing one of Isabela’s tunics right now.

Keep reading

he tastes of asphalt and gunpowder.

It’s hard to remember small beginnings when you’ve created an empire.

(or, an instrumental, slightly narrative, aesthetic playlist for seven men who appeared without a trace)

[listen]

1. Kavinsky Pacific Coast Highway | 2. Nightstop LA Heat | 3. Lazer Hawk King Of The Streets | 4. Tokyo Rose Midnight Chase | 5. Perturbator Electric Dreams | 6. Garth Knight 88 MPH | 7. Night Runner The Driver | 8. Judge Bitch Workin’ Out In Jeans | 9. Stellar Dreams High End | 10. The Outrunners Diamonds | 11. Compilerbau Gone Bad | 12. College Divided Loyalty | 13. Cougar Synth Can’t Touch My Sneakers | 14. Perturbator Fantasy (ft. Dream Koala) | 15. Scattle Flatline | 16. Miami Nights 1984 Mn84 Theme | 17. Cougar Synth Afterglow | 18. Mitch Murder Remember When

5

FINALLY I CAN GO APE S#!T ! [*that’s the first thing Batman thought*] You know that feeling when you go through the drive through and get someone else’s order … that is BETTER than yours! Well … then you can understand how good Batman felt when he got Superman’s powers and proceeded to beat up all his friends … put a 10" hole through BANE … AND take out the whole JLA on the damn MOON! on … the … Moon. SUPERBAT !!!