unexpected domesticity shipping meme. you never thought you'd have a home, at least not one you can call completely yours, no strings attached and no one lording above you or controlling you. you may not have even known what a "home" truly is, or thought you wanted one. now, there is a touch of domesticity in your life, no matter what things are like otherwise, because you have a home, though you may not have a house proper.
most importantly, you now have someone to share this new facet of life with - a partner. similar to you or completely different, relationship unspoken or unrealized, heavily romantic or understated, they are slowly but surely becoming someone indispensable to you. you never could have seen this coming. and, of course, with domesticity comes a certain amount of intimacy, perhaps even the ultimate physical intimacy...you may be open to that already or you're working up to it when you'd hardly considered it before.
whether your situation is for the long term as it stands, could end at any moment, or a mere disguise you're using to lay low, you're getting comfortable. how does that make you feel? will you it accept a new lease on life - or will you sabotage yourself before someone else does?
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So cruel. Here I was, going to do something nice for you, and you throw it back in my face. Only going to feed yourself, even.
[he doesn't mean a word of it, only made more obvious by any lack of ire in his sleepy voice. Alistair rolls onto his side, leaning on one arm to watch her comb that dark hair he loves.]
[hands come to a slow stop; her smile grows soft, almost a smirk but not quite, and her eyes darken as they wander off, and for a moment it's tempting to simply go back and--]
Later.
[yes. for now she goes away instead, a bee-line towards the kitchen. warm tea and bread, cheese and fruits and eggs for two. and something for her little one (GOOD MORNING YOU LOOK PRETTY), too comfortable by the fire to do anything beyond rolling over and wag his little tail and you look very pretty as well.
Alistair can just roll onto his back again and doze contentedly, the soft white light reflected on the snow outside making him feel peaceful and all too glad that he's not going to take Elke out in it.
generally, all too glad for peace, a place to call home, a great dog, and love from the most wonderful person in the world.
[when she goes back, carrying a heavy tray filled to the brim with food, she stops a second by the door to look at the dozing man, a little fire burning in her chest; winter turns into a faraway thing-- it can't touch her.
she sets the tray down on her side of the bed, going around to crawl back from his, happily taking a seat on his lap, poking at his ribs.]
It's time to eat, grandfather. Please open your eyes.
Just maybe? I guess I'll have to use those oils after all.
[she reaches for a piece of fruit, holding it for him. she remembers dreaming about this, a long time ago, caged in her pristine tower. and she remembers... vaguely, like the echo of a bittersweet dream, watching her parents together and thinking... thinking something she cannot longer remember. but I got it. I got it.]
[gently, Alistair catches her wrist in the hand not intertwined with hers, thanking her with a shy smile (to this day, embarrassed when he's the one getting more attention), he takes a bite and noisily sucks out the juice, some running down his chin. he's surprised at this development, apparently - he lets go of Seren's wrist so his hand can hover under his chin to catch any drips about to fall.]
[she laughs, quickly reaching to throw him back against the bed to better lick from his skin what juice got away. you're so messy! she sings, lips mapping the wet trails along his chin.]
Sweet. [she takes what's left of the piece for her with a happy little hum.] Really delicious.
You. [without hesitation, without delay. she licks the juice from her lips, taking another piece for eating with a smile that could be impish, but isn't. she would never.]
As I thought. The fruit is just to enhance my flavor?
[he sits up just enough to kiss her softly, then falling back into the pillows with a smile.]
I hope I'm the taste you prefer, though. I know what the answer is for me.
[there's a twinkle in his eye then, but he doesn't keep eye contact with that look for long, searching for the plate and getting more fruit for himself.]
[it's not something that she needs to answer. she hums happily as she eats, his lap a comfortable seat.]
Well, [she begins, making a beautiful work ignoring the little moment that passes between them.] You do make for a better, more accessible midnight snack.
[he swallows the berry, sarcastic grin only broadening as he spreads his hands with a shrug; a lackadaisical, unapologetic gesture of 'guilty as charged'.]
'Happy wife, happy life'?
[he likewise pokes her in the middle, grin softening.]
[to prove his point, her face gets attacked by many, many more smooches than she gave. and just because doing that makes his heart feel very full, he finishes with a very sincere one with a smile at the corner of her lips.
and then the moment is ruined when his stomach complains, a little loudly.]
[she bursts out laughing, cheeks burning and face hurting from smiling too much and surely this heaven, this warm, golden radiance that taints everything, a loud kiss on his lips before she pulls away to grab an already cold teacup.
She holds it between both hands, the liquid slowly warming up again.]
[cheek resting on a loose fist, propped up on one elbow - he watches her with a lop-sided smile, staring at her hands and the steam that begins to lazily lift itself from the cup. his other hand still rests at the small of her back (a leftover from his terrible capture), and he gently rubs his fingers there.]
[he leans over to kiss her on the cheek in thanks before taking his tea, carefully sitting back against pillows so as not to spill. he smiles at her with an old, familiar glint in them.]
But I'm pretty sure the bed is yours, and I'm doing the warming.
[after a long pull from the cup, his eyebrows are raised as it comes down into his other palm to warm it.]
...I think I just turned myself from a food into a hot water bottle.
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bakerstreet2015-08-24 08:00 am
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[he doesn't mean a word of it, only made more obvious by any lack of ire in his sleepy voice. Alistair rolls onto his side, leaning on one arm to watch her comb that dark hair he loves.]
What kind of compensation?
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Later.
[yes. for now she goes away instead, a bee-line towards the kitchen. warm tea and bread, cheese and fruits and eggs for two. and something for her little one (GOOD MORNING YOU LOOK PRETTY), too comfortable by the fire to do anything beyond rolling over and wag his little tail and you look very pretty as well.
a quiet winter morning, and life is perfect.]
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Alistair can just roll onto his back again and doze contentedly, the soft white light reflected on the snow outside making him feel peaceful and all too glad that he's not going to take Elke out in it.
generally, all too glad for peace, a place to call home, a great dog, and love from the most wonderful person in the world.
very perfect.]
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she sets the tray down on her side of the bed, going around to crawl back from his, happily taking a seat on his lap, poking at his ribs.]
It's time to eat, grandfather. Please open your eyes.
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[one eyes slides open, mouth twisted into a sarcastic grin.]
You're very salty this morning. I have half a mind to shake my cane at you.
[he mimics doing so, lips pulled around his teeth in mockery of a toothless old man.]
You should respect the elderly, young lady! [!!!1111one]
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Ah, but surely you can find it in your heart to forgive me?
[he makes such a comfortable seat. she takes his hand, lacing their fingers together.]
I brought you breakfast.
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[oh Maker may he always be able to make her laugh. Alistair beams at her, momentarily squeezing her hand. ]
Smells wonderful.
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[she reaches for a piece of fruit, holding it for him. she remembers dreaming about this, a long time ago, caged in her pristine tower. and she remembers... vaguely, like the echo of a bittersweet dream, watching her parents together and thinking... thinking something she cannot longer remember. but I got it. I got it.]
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Sweet. [she takes what's left of the piece for her with a happy little hum.] Really delicious.
lmfao sorry for short so sleepy
Are you talking about me or the fruit?
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Well... mostly you.
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As I thought. The fruit is just to enhance my flavor?
[he sits up just enough to kiss her softly, then falling back into the pillows with a smile.]
I hope I'm the taste you prefer, though. I know what the answer is for me.
[there's a twinkle in his eye then, but he doesn't keep eye contact with that look for long, searching for the plate and getting more fruit for himself.]
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[it's not something that she needs to answer. she hums happily as she eats, his lap a comfortable seat.]
Well, [she begins, making a beautiful work ignoring the little moment that passes between them.] You do make for a better, more accessible midnight snack.
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And sometimes morning, afternoon, tea time, evening...
[he pops a strawberry into his mouth, cheek puffed out with it as he tries smiling without opening his mouth.]
You do have a pretty large appetite.
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An appetite that you're usually only too happy to satisfy, if memory serves me right.
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'Happy wife, happy life'?
[he likewise pokes her in the middle, grin softening.]
I don't hear you complaining, either.
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[she takes his finger, moves to give his neck a quick, heavy kiss]
And the more you eat the more I'll have for the taking. My tasty, tasty snack.
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[but he knows how he feels about kisses on his neck. he grins lazily as he wraps his arms around her, pinning her to him.]
Gotcha.
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Oh no, strong arms. [her lips trail from his neck to his shoulder.] My only weakness.
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[to prove his point, her face gets attacked by many, many more smooches than she gave. and just because doing that makes his heart feel very full, he finishes with a very sincere one with a smile at the corner of her lips.
and then the moment is ruined when his stomach complains, a little loudly.]
...Breakfast is cold by now, isn't it.
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She holds it between both hands, the liquid slowly warming up again.]
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[cheek resting on a loose fist, propped up on one elbow - he watches her with a lop-sided smile, staring at her hands and the steam that begins to lazily lift itself from the cup. his other hand still rests at the small of her back (a leftover from his terrible capture), and he gently rubs his fingers there.]
There had to be some reason I stick around.
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Oh yes, trust the mage with your tea and your bed. Have no worries for the winter.
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[he leans over to kiss her on the cheek in thanks before taking his tea, carefully sitting back against pillows so as not to spill. he smiles at her with an old, familiar glint in them.]
But I'm pretty sure the bed is yours, and I'm doing the warming.
[after a long pull from the cup, his eyebrows are raised as it comes down into his other palm to warm it.]
...I think I just turned myself from a food into a hot water bottle.
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