‘now kiss,’ varric thinks, then blinks down at the vellum before him, realizing, oh right. i’m the storyteller. i can make that happen. just…maybe not whenever he wants—he’s sat through enough of isabela’s lectures on sexual tension, unresolved and otherwise, to be wary of sticking them together too soon or too slow. of course, he has to practice getting the right angle on his own hand, and there are times when bianca has to avert her eyes, but all in all, he thinks he pulls it off pretty well.
(‘now kiss,’ isabela says, standing in the doorway to their new quarters below-deck, the lapping of the waves whispering against the ship’s hull, and winks as she closes the door on two friends who finally have a moment together alone, kirkwall somewhere in water behind them. she can make that happen, too.)
Someone stop me before I reblog everything spicyshimmy has ever written *__*
Saw the post with the cat sweaters…and thought of Anders. Tiny sketch in the back of my work-book - Can now cheer myself up with this absurd thing every time I get sad or bored : )
On a side-note - saw a lot of different cat sweaters on google…a possible fashion show starring Anders?
Alondra Hawke and Anders.
Quick sketch at 1:30am. I ship these two so much.
You had a cat called Sir Pounce-a-lot? In the Deep Roads?
He was a gift. A noble beast.
One time Shelbo and I talked about Merril and Anders having a baby. That would never happen, but I drew it anyway.