flutiebear

To flutiebear, from ilikelookingatnakedmen

Merry Christmas; there’s a sequel on the way!

——

It was a beautiful day for a protest. Sun pounded down on the forecourt of the Viscount’s Keep. Even the statues, intimidating bronze behemoths depicting hawks (because Sergeant Hawke just loooooved a bit of irony) glistened in an almost cheerful manner.

In comparison with the heavily armed and armoured riot police and the stolid, pedestrian local police, the protesters looked positively vibrant. Elvhen and human youths wore bright, delicate clothes which left little to the imagination. Pipes, hookahs, bongs and even needles were flaunted wildly, as if to say “you can’t arrest all of us!”. Hand-lettered signs ranged from the mundane (“Free the Weed!”) to the mysterious (“Cannibalise Legalis”).

And standing aside from the others, in her own little world, was the most… thingy woman Carver Hawke had ever seen.

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To armedwithawkard, from flutiebear.  You’re gift is currently in the mail, but to tide you over here’s a picture. Inside we have a care package for Bethany including gifts from all the companions, Hawke and even Leandra.

To armedwithawkard, from flutiebear.  You’re gift is currently in the mail, but to tide you over here’s a picture. Inside we have a care package for Bethany including gifts from all the companions, Hawke and even Leandra.

flutiebear:


Two weeks ago I received an extravagant bundle from my DA Secret Santa, the generous, the thoughtful, and the ever lovely autumnyte. And wow. My cruddy photo just doesn’t do this gift anywhere near justice (heh). For Autumnyte showered me with a veritable embarrassment of Thedan riches: a box the approximate size of my dinner table stuffed with parcels hand-selected by Garrett Hawke and his companions (accompanied of course by a personal note from each, explaining the reasoning behind his or her gift).
Inside the box was:
From Ser Carver, I received a mug with the Grey Warden griffon on it, perfect for making my beloved Brownies-in-a-Cup;
From Isabela, a personalized book of her favorite sayings – which also happened to be many of my favorites as well — and a few portraits of herself too, of course;
From Garrett and Anders, a joint gift of chocolates from a Hightown chocolatier named Gertrude Hawk (no relation), and pointedly not a copy of Anders’s manifesto. (I have enough copies, thank you!);
From Fenris, a jar of organic, fair trade honey, which he assures me was not collected from the hands of slaves, elven or otherwise;
From Sebastian, a letter indicating he’d made a donation to the Chantry in my name — but not to the mage-hate-y part, but the part that cares for widows and orphans;
From Aveline, a gorgeous pendant of the Kirkwall crest, so I always have a way to carry with me my memories of my home away from home;  
From Merrill, a packet of beautiful cards with hand-pressed flowers on them straight from the Viscount’s garden, which Carver helped her collect (an anecdote that surely will make it into Shadows, when I get back to it);
From autumnyte herself, a beautiful card with a map of Thedas on the front, so I never get lost trying to find my way home.
And last but certainly not least, a parcel from Varric: perhaps the most touching gift any writer can give another – a blank, leather-bound journal, perfect for toting around in one’s pocket and pulling out at a moment’s notice, for whenever the fancy strikes. Inside reads the following inscription:





To [Flutiebear],There’s power in stories. That’s all history is: the best tales, The ones that last. Might as well be yours.





Oh great, now I’m crying again.


This has to be one of the most thoughtful and considerate gifts I’ve ever received. The care and effort autumnyte put into assembling all this is evident, and so very, very appreciated. I love it, every bit of it, down to the ribbons she used to tie the notes together.
So thank you, autumnyte. Thank you. A million times thank you. You are a treasure and an inspiration, and at the next meet-up, I’m buying your drinks for the entire weekend. Love you, doll.


autumnyte is the best best person.

flutiebear:

Two weeks ago I received an extravagant bundle from my DA Secret Santa, the generous, the thoughtful, and the ever lovely autumnyte. And wow. My cruddy photo just doesn’t do this gift anywhere near justice (heh). For Autumnyte showered me with a veritable embarrassment of Thedan riches: a box the approximate size of my dinner table stuffed with parcels hand-selected by Garrett Hawke and his companions (accompanied of course by a personal note from each, explaining the reasoning behind his or her gift).

Inside the box was:

  • From Ser Carver, I received a mug with the Grey Warden griffon on it, perfect for making my beloved Brownies-in-a-Cup;
  • From Isabela, a personalized book of her favorite sayings – which also happened to be many of my favorites as well — and a few portraits of herself too, of course;
  • From Garrett and Anders, a joint gift of chocolates from a Hightown chocolatier named Gertrude Hawk (no relation), and pointedly not a copy of Anders’s manifesto. (I have enough copies, thank you!);
  • From Fenris, a jar of organic, fair trade honey, which he assures me was not collected from the hands of slaves, elven or otherwise;
  • From Sebastian, a letter indicating he’d made a donation to the Chantry in my name — but not to the mage-hate-y part, but the part that cares for widows and orphans;
  • From Aveline, a gorgeous pendant of the Kirkwall crest, so I always have a way to carry with me my memories of my home away from home; 
  • From Merrill, a packet of beautiful cards with hand-pressed flowers on them straight from the Viscount’s garden, which Carver helped her collect (an anecdote that surely will make it into Shadows, when I get back to it);

  • From autumnyte herself, a beautiful card with a map of Thedas on the front, so I never get lost trying to find my way home.
  • And last but certainly not least, a parcel from Varric: perhaps the most touching gift any writer can give another – a blank, leather-bound journal, perfect for toting around in one’s pocket and pulling out at a moment’s notice, for whenever the fancy strikes. Inside reads the following inscription:

To [Flutiebear],

There’s power in stories.
That’s all history is: the best tales,
The ones that last.
Might as well be yours.

Oh great, now I’m crying again.

This has to be one of the most thoughtful and considerate gifts I’ve ever received. The care and effort autumnyte put into assembling all this is evident, and so very, very appreciated. I love it, every bit of it, down to the ribbons she used to tie the notes together.

So thank you, autumnyte. Thank you. A million times thank you. You are a treasure and an inspiration, and at the next meet-up, I’m buying your drinks for the entire weekend. Love you, doll.

autumnyte is the best best person.

tarysande:

FLUTIEBEAR! THANK YOU!!! I was out all day today and came home to find this propped against my apartment door! OMG MY GIGGLING!!
I am in love with Sebastian’s book of recipes, with all its notes in the margins (waffle maker (no)). And clearly it is a chocolate nug and not a chocolate bunny.
This is a marvelous, thoughtful, lovely, wonderfully original gift!!! 
(And since I used the last of my Starbucks card this morning, it came at a perfect time.)
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE IT ALL SO MUCH! IT’S SO PERFECT! LOOK AT ME ABUSING CAPS LOCK!!! AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
tarysande:

FLUTIEBEAR! THANK YOU!!! I was out all day today and came home to find this propped against my apartment door! OMG MY GIGGLING!!
I am in love with Sebastian’s book of recipes, with all its notes in the margins (waffle maker (no)). And clearly it is a chocolate nug and not a chocolate bunny.
This is a marvelous, thoughtful, lovely, wonderfully original gift!!! 
(And since I used the last of my Starbucks card this morning, it came at a perfect time.)
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE IT ALL SO MUCH! IT’S SO PERFECT! LOOK AT ME ABUSING CAPS LOCK!!! AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
tarysande:

FLUTIEBEAR! THANK YOU!!! I was out all day today and came home to find this propped against my apartment door! OMG MY GIGGLING!!
I am in love with Sebastian’s book of recipes, with all its notes in the margins (waffle maker (no)). And clearly it is a chocolate nug and not a chocolate bunny.
This is a marvelous, thoughtful, lovely, wonderfully original gift!!! 
(And since I used the last of my Starbucks card this morning, it came at a perfect time.)
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE IT ALL SO MUCH! IT’S SO PERFECT! LOOK AT ME ABUSING CAPS LOCK!!! AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
tarysande:

FLUTIEBEAR! THANK YOU!!! I was out all day today and came home to find this propped against my apartment door! OMG MY GIGGLING!!
I am in love with Sebastian’s book of recipes, with all its notes in the margins (waffle maker (no)). And clearly it is a chocolate nug and not a chocolate bunny.
This is a marvelous, thoughtful, lovely, wonderfully original gift!!! 
(And since I used the last of my Starbucks card this morning, it came at a perfect time.)
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE IT ALL SO MUCH! IT’S SO PERFECT! LOOK AT ME ABUSING CAPS LOCK!!! AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
tarysande:

FLUTIEBEAR! THANK YOU!!! I was out all day today and came home to find this propped against my apartment door! OMG MY GIGGLING!!
I am in love with Sebastian’s book of recipes, with all its notes in the margins (waffle maker (no)). And clearly it is a chocolate nug and not a chocolate bunny.
This is a marvelous, thoughtful, lovely, wonderfully original gift!!! 
(And since I used the last of my Starbucks card this morning, it came at a perfect time.)
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE IT ALL SO MUCH! IT’S SO PERFECT! LOOK AT ME ABUSING CAPS LOCK!!! AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
tarysande:

FLUTIEBEAR! THANK YOU!!! I was out all day today and came home to find this propped against my apartment door! OMG MY GIGGLING!!
I am in love with Sebastian’s book of recipes, with all its notes in the margins (waffle maker (no)). And clearly it is a chocolate nug and not a chocolate bunny.
This is a marvelous, thoughtful, lovely, wonderfully original gift!!! 
(And since I used the last of my Starbucks card this morning, it came at a perfect time.)
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE IT ALL SO MUCH! IT’S SO PERFECT! LOOK AT ME ABUSING CAPS LOCK!!! AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
tarysande:

FLUTIEBEAR! THANK YOU!!! I was out all day today and came home to find this propped against my apartment door! OMG MY GIGGLING!!
I am in love with Sebastian’s book of recipes, with all its notes in the margins (waffle maker (no)). And clearly it is a chocolate nug and not a chocolate bunny.
This is a marvelous, thoughtful, lovely, wonderfully original gift!!! 
(And since I used the last of my Starbucks card this morning, it came at a perfect time.)
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE IT ALL SO MUCH! IT’S SO PERFECT! LOOK AT ME ABUSING CAPS LOCK!!! AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

tarysande:

FLUTIEBEAR! THANK YOU!!! I was out all day today and came home to find this propped against my apartment door! OMG MY GIGGLING!!

I am in love with Sebastian’s book of recipes, with all its notes in the margins (waffle maker (no)). And clearly it is a chocolate nug and not a chocolate bunny.

This is a marvelous, thoughtful, lovely, wonderfully original gift!!! 

(And since I used the last of my Starbucks card this morning, it came at a perfect time.)

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! I LOVE IT ALL SO MUCH! IT’S SO PERFECT! LOOK AT ME ABUSING CAPS LOCK!!! AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

miliat:

Figured since she got them I could post these. I forgot to scan the large one once it was done, and I should probably work on color correction of the cards.
The top was the sketchiest sketch for the big couples card, and the bottom ones are the scanned in individual cards. It did wash out some of the color, but I’m still rather proud.
Again, so glad flutiebear liked them, I had a blast playing with my color pencils. :D
miliat:

Figured since she got them I could post these. I forgot to scan the large one once it was done, and I should probably work on color correction of the cards.
The top was the sketchiest sketch for the big couples card, and the bottom ones are the scanned in individual cards. It did wash out some of the color, but I’m still rather proud.
Again, so glad flutiebear liked them, I had a blast playing with my color pencils. :D
miliat:

Figured since she got them I could post these. I forgot to scan the large one once it was done, and I should probably work on color correction of the cards.
The top was the sketchiest sketch for the big couples card, and the bottom ones are the scanned in individual cards. It did wash out some of the color, but I’m still rather proud.
Again, so glad flutiebear liked them, I had a blast playing with my color pencils. :D

miliat:

Figured since she got them I could post these. I forgot to scan the large one once it was done, and I should probably work on color correction of the cards.

The top was the sketchiest sketch for the big couples card, and the bottom ones are the scanned in individual cards. It did wash out some of the color, but I’m still rather proud.

Again, so glad flutiebear liked them, I had a blast playing with my color pencils. :D

Graffiti- for Flutiebear

Title: Graffiti
Pairing/Details: Garrett/Anders fluff. Oh, Maker it’s so fluffy. Mildly suggestive. 
Other: Flutiebear is absolutely amazing and deserves so many wonderful things and nothing I can do will be enough. *hugs*

___________________________________________________________

There are no straight lines to guide him, but straight lines are overrated, Garrett thinks.

"They’re for people with no imagination," he says it with a profound sense of profundity, pulling his knife away so that he can admire his handiwork on the main pillar of the Hanged Man.

HAW?" Anders squints up at the etching, which is admittedly overshadowed by a rather splendid pair of breasts, the artist of which having taken advantage of the natural contours of the wood to create impressive amounts of dimension and although Garrett can’t blame Anders for staring, he wishes he would stop. “Um…,” his eyes dart back to Garrett’s face. ” Let me guess- ‘HAWKE WAS HERE- EVERY NIGHT FOR ALMOST A DECADE’.”

"Heh. You’ll see,” Garrett returns to his task, arm going up to support his weight as he continues and it’s a smile that unfurls itself when he feels fingers catching the hem of his tunic, not to get his attention but to claim. He’s been claiming all evening, his hands running along Anders’ thigh, the intensity of his fondling growing in direct proportion to the number of times Evelyn sloshes ale on the table in front of them. “You have nice thighs,” Garrett murmurs and is forced to catch a sigh before it escapes when Anders responds with exploration of his own, his palm sliding along the curve of Garrett’s ass and his touch trailing intensity along the adjacent muscles.

Be careful, Hawke. You’re not hidden behind a table anymore, and Isabela is surely lurking about, ready to gawk and tease.

But careful is tricky when he’s had so much to drink and not even Anders is minding his behavior this evening, his own stretch of table laden with mugs and the high pink of his cheeks, the gleam in his dark eyes and a grin that is half adoration, half insinuation makes it difficult for Garrett to focus his complete attention on his task.

Which leads to, “I thought Hawke was spelled with an e.”

"Pardon?" Garrett continues to shape the next word, already on the second letter, his fingers brushing at the shavings as he goes. "Of course it has an e. We’re people, not birds. Well, I’m a person. They’re still looking into Carver’s situation.”

Anders laughs at that and when Garrett glances down he loses all reference but one, the happy face of an unhappy man who is possibly learning to be otherwise. It’s been almost a year, after all, and so many mornings start with this face, or a glimpse of this face, half-buried in a pillow as he draws Garrett closer, if closer is possible, and it seems like almost a year of excellent starts, of sleep-warmed tongues brushing along sensitive skin and lazy fumblings, should have started turning the tide of unhappy.

"Perhaps you should have Carver help, then," Anders props his elbow on the table and rests his cheek against his palm. "Because right now you are talking about a bird. Plus, Carver seems like he’d be a natural…carver.”

With another unsteady return to his work, Garrett sees the truth. “HAWK LO" plain as plain and there is no room to cram an extra letter anywhere in there.

Balls.” His shoulders sag with the realization that there’s probably a reason why most of the graffiti in the Hanged Man, with the exception of Isabela’s many odes to the collective attractiveness of her friends, is absolute and incomprehensible shit. Something about the state necessary to think graffiti is a good idea being the precise state when things like grammar and the ability to correctly spell one’s own name have faded into non-existence. So, of course, he blames Anders. “It’s because you’re watching me.”

Anders is not offended. “I can only see it when you wobble left. For the most part, I’m watching your ass,” the last is purred and accented with a sharp flick against the lower curve of Garrett’s backside. “Isabela’s right about this one.”

"It is luscious,” Garrett can hardly say the word without laughing. “And having you stare at it isn’t helping either,” he feigns a pout that is no doubt undermined by the uncontrollable twitching at the corners of his mouth as it gives into mirth. “Eyeing me as if I’m nothing more than a piece of meat.”

This gets Anders to his feet, even more unsteady a spectacle than Garrett on his knees on a barstool.

"It’s never bothered me to be viewed as such,” he lifts his arms, still thin even after a year of rich breakfasts and multiple course dining, and jokingly flexes them. “Try not to die of jealousy.”

And he smiles a smile that is something like breathtaking. Most people who are that drunk look as if they’ve been hit upside the head with a rank fish and are expecting it to happen again, and at any moment. Anders, though, is beatific in his flushed rumpledness, poking fun at himself as he watches his lover work and somehow never losing that halo of happy that seems less and less fleeting by the minute.

Garrett should stop. He should fall down from his stool and replace his knife with Anders’ hand, to better guide him straight out of the Hanged Man and to their home and their bed and then do everything he can to prolong this mood, this magic that is more than loosened inhibitions- progress.

It’s a moment he’s been waiting for since that first one, when they met and Anders lived up to every image of renegade-Warden turned selfless-healer that Garrett could possible conjure and a few things, such as handsomeness, that he wasn’t yet inclined to. Years of apart and longing, followed by a year of together and still longing because together could only change so much and falling asleep protected and protecting in the arms of the person whose arms fit you so well resulted in excellent mornings but not a better world.

Some men were fine with excellent mornings, of simply being alive and not alone. Garrett, on most days, would happily stop there.

Anders, though, wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Can’t and won’t. And that’s why the years of aching that no one else could satisfy. That’s why the mornings have to be so excellent, and why Garrett is drunk now and torn between the man and the gesture, which is a foolish gesture but the most sincere.

As if sensing the indecision, Anders staggers back towards the pail closets, laughing and swearing that when he’s done, Hawke’s done.

And he is.

The unveiling is anti-climatic but the yield is perfect- an arm around Garrett’s waist and that newfound light sustained as they stumble out of the Hanged Man together. Straight lines home are forgotten as secluded alleys and alcoves beckon them and their sated hearts become restless hands and lips that turn Lowtown into their home, when they know that the estate will be there when they need it, and the rough walls into their bed, Anders’ doffed pauldrons sparing them scrapes on their cheeks, their knees, and the bed will embrace them when the time comes, when their very not straight path finds them falling in together and waking up the same.

And an excellent morning will start, Anders’ flushed face half-buried in a pillow and Garrett wishing that this could be their everything, this faultless tangle of breath and limbs, and later over sausage and eggs Anders will laugh, that beautiful sound from deep within him, and shake his head.

"HAWK LOVE ANDER? Really?"

"He does. And this Ander is a lucky man to have it acknowledged in such a classy fashion.”

"I know," his voice will be thick with everything those words mean, even as his mouth is still angled in a smile that proves the world has yet to reclaim him. "He really is."