things i love about cullen, based upon personal headcanons:
- He is dependable. Cullen will anticipate a need, and casually address it–a corner of a desk jutting out too far, a pile of laundry that needs doing. Often you will go to do some chore or another and find that he’s already taken care of it, without fanfare or difficulty. He knows your needs, and he knows your preferences, and he does his best to make sure they are satisfied.
- He is nurturing. You discover that as a child, he was given the responsibility of tending to the family garden, plots of elfroot and embrium and other curative herbs that the Rutherfords kept to address the inevitable wounds of farm life. He takes up gardening once again when his time with the Inquisition is done, and plants flourish under his gentle care. So do animals, and children, should the two of you have any.
- He is loving. He expresses his love in so many ways: affectionate honorifics (he calls you “sweetheart” or “darling,” always with warmth and reverence), small, frequent gifts (fresh flowers for the kitchen table; an etched leather belt he found at the market; notes signed with love on the bedside table on mornings he must wake before you do), and always, the reassurance of his touch (massages after long days, held hands on evening walks, the warmth of his arms in bed during the winter).
- He is humble. Cullen never desired glory or accolades; he always saw a job well done as its own reward. So when he is complimented, he is always terribly, adorably bashful. In the beginning of your relationship, he blushes fiercely when you applaud him–all across his face, up to the tips of his ears and down his neck, and he stammers out his thanks while rubbing the back of his neck. After many years together, he will still blush, but he will only wrinkle his nose at you and accuse you of embarrassing him on purpose. More often than not, he is right.
- He is supportive. His pride in your accomplishments is never hidden–he gladly talks you up to whoever he meets, joyfully extolling your virtues and talents to whichever poor soul too polite to interrupt him. When you attend events together, he is happy to give you the spotlight, a hand at your back to offer support or reassurance should you need it. When you are overwhelmed, he is the one to draw you away into a quiet spot; when you are ready to dive into chaos, he follows you with his sword and shield, guarding your back so you can keep looking forward.
- He is himself. He loves butter cookies and hates the heat. He’s a busybody, discontent to sit and relax when a sock could be darned, a floor could be swept, a sword could be sharpened or the ingredients for tomorrow’s breakfast could be set out. He is nauseatingly sweet sometimes, braiding wildflowers together into a crown, setting it upon your head, and bowing and “your majesty”-ing to you for the rest of the day, jumping playfully away when you try to swat him for his teasing. He swings you around in the air when he’s overjoyed, holds you close when he is upset. He tried to hide his compassion and kindness, tried to beat it down and crush it, yet in the end he accepted it and let it grow within himself. And he gives it to you, asking for nothing in return and cherishing all that you give him unasked for.