moved.

"but you just moved blogs gabby!!!!!" yes i did but i didn’t expect this blog to get as many followers as it has, and i’m not comfortable with it anymore. so that is my reasoning of you needed it.

"but you just moved blogs gabby!!!!!" yes i did but i didn’t expect this blog to get as many followers as it has, and i’m not comfortable with it anymore. so that is my reasoning of you needed it.

like we should really sit

and talk about it

and wonder why everything is mhawke and his LIs all the time. why mhawke is the quirky obnoxious boyfriend depicted in redraws of parks and rec andy/april stuff. why fhawke is nowhere to be seen, why fhawke/merrill and fhawke/isabela have nowhere near the same amount of vast content that mhawke/anders and mhawke/fenris get and why that’s a big problem regardless of it being m/m

we should talk about it but nobody’s gonna.

mhawke is ‘iconic’ because it is in our nature to paint men as iconic and stick them as default. it’s not about gay representation. mhawke’s prominence in fandom is rarely about gay representation. it’s about assigning a stock male character into the usual stock male role.

the prominence of mhawke is because fandom is still uncomfortable with the idea of a woman being at the forefront. the prominence of mhawke erases the visibility of women in the second game because rarely are the female romance interests acknowledged. fenris gains meme status. anders gain meme status.

merrill and isabela sit quietly in the background ignored for the same reason why fhawke is hidden and swept aside.

we won’t get constant streams of art as merrill as the loveable puppydog and her long-suffering girlfriend hawke. we won’t even get ‘won’t say i’m in love’ references in regards to isabela bemoaning her love of fhawke.

we won’t get that because women are reduced as secondary figures in fiction. we do not know how to fit women into our hypermasculine mindset of easily rebloggable humour.

getting slightly too drunk in the middle of the afternoon and slow dancing to dumb cheesy old music and kissing in a way that’s more laughter than actual kissing, mouths clumsy and hands gripping tight and sunlight slanting over them as they move lazily together 

curling up on the sofa together, feet tucked under thighs and arms around shoulders, watch the kind of crap tv that only airs at 3am because they don’t want to go to untangle themselves to go to bed

hectic mornings when they each need to be somewhere and they’re rushing around each other, ducking into bathrooms and bedrooms and kitchen cupboards, pausing to straighten tops and press kisses to cheeks

going through old photos together and collapsing into laughter every three pictures, and zooming in on ones where they’re pulling awful faces or ones that were taken at just the wrong moment

getting ready for nights out together, standing shoulder to shoulder as they brush their teeth or get their faces ready or style their hair, knocking elbows and hips as they try and hog more space