#Kincsem

[n-y-c-t-0-p-h-0-b-i-a]

borzasztóan fáradt vagyok és csak az kell hogy itt legyél, ölelgess és aludjunk, ezután meg egy jó szex is ránk férne már... hiányzol

[egy-lany-blogja]

Jöhet vad szélvihar ,nagy mennydörgéssel,vagy zúgó folyó nagy árvizzel,lángra lobbanhat bármekkora tűz is a szeretet mit irántad érzek semmi el nem űzi.

[fly-tempest]

"Kincsem" by Emil Adam, 1887. From Artvee .

Kincsem was a great Hungarian racemare, who was undefeated in 54 starts including the Goodwood Cup, Grosser Pris von Baden (3 times), and the Grand Prix de Deauville. (from Wikipedia)

[taffetastrology]

The signs as Kincsem costumes

Aries

Taurus

Gemini

Cancer

Leo

Virgo

Libra

Scorpio

Sagittarius

Capricorn

Aquarius

Pisces

[gettocsirke]

"Uh, még az árnyékom sem lehetnél már kincsem

Uh, mit adjak, ha kajak semmim sincsen?"

Ekhoe x Grasa - Kincsem 2

[culturevulturette]

There can be only one. And her name was Kincsem.

[tartsdmegazaprot]

Kontuly-Keserü a háttérben 🌹

[csekofanni]

És lassan te lettél a mindenem.

Aki kitölti azt az űrt, amit mások hagytak hátra bennem.

Aki megnevettet egy szörnyű napom után.

Akihez mindig fordulhatok.

Aki nélkül képtelen vagyok elaludni.

Akit a legjobban szeretek és mindent megtennék azért, hogy mindig boldognak lássam

Aki úgy vigyáz rám,mint a szeme fényére

Aki képtelen lenne megbántani.

Akit őszintén, félelem nélkül szerethetek

Akinek sosem leszek túl sok.

[hereticpriest]

Bite

Rating: Mature?

Relationship: Laszlo Kreizler x reader

Warnings: Heavily implied odaxelagnia, period typical misogyny, period typical relationship culture, period typical discussion of a physical disability.

Note: Kincsem means 'my treasure' and szerelmem means 'my love' in Hungarian.

Warmth sinks into your back as you lean heavily against the strong legs and plush sofa behind you, chasing away the chill you might've had from sitting on the cold floor. Your upper body is wedged somewhat between bony knees and soft thighs, holding you in place in case you were to fall asleep. It wouldn't be the first time. A blissful sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle your cheek against your arms, pillowed beneath your head and draped lazily over your dear doctor's thigh. The fingers of his non-dominant hand comb shyly through your hair, still learning to touch you with what he refers to as his deformity when he manages to speak of it.

His voice, thickly accented when he's as relaxed as he is now in the fire's crackling light with you at his feet, lilts over the words of whatever book he's chosen to read for you tonight. You haven't absorbed much of it, though you believe it to be a text rather than a novel - delving into the science behind love, how quaint - since he keeps pausing to underline passages as he goes. He doesn't ever seem to do that with novels - that's your territory. He often remarks that he likes to read some of his favourites again after you've made your way through them simply because he likes to read the little notes you've jotted down in the margins.

You let out a plaintive noise as he removes his hand from your hair, blinking open heavy-lidded eyes to look up at him with all the disgruntled displeasure of a toddler told no. His eyebrow raises at you as if to ask what you plan to do about it, and you scoff, shifting your arm ever so slightly to give you room to sink your teeth into the meat of his thigh. He yelps, fisting your hair in order to wrench your head back, and you let him. Your lips form a smug grin, eyes half-lidded and smouldering. The would-be pain of having your hair pulled bleeds into pleasure instead, sparking like wildfire under your skin.

"No biting, kincsem." He murmurs, guiding your head back down to his leg delicately for a man who’d just yanked on your hair. You wait on baited breath to see if he'll keep touching you, and hum with delight when he does, indulging you despite the fact that it reinforces your unfortunately bratty behaviour. He's been trying to get you out of the habit of biting since you met, with very little success. First, as a typist at the Kreizler Institute with a bad habit of biting the skin around your nails - stress induced, due to the pressure from your parents to marry instead of working for him. He had recommended a healthy outlet for your stress and a set of gloves to redirect you, and while the gloves did work when you weren’t actively typing, you hadn’t yet found an outlet for your stress. Then, your parents found a suitor for you willing to overlook your unfortunate desire to make something of yourself beyond a wife and mother, which led to you biting the thenar eminence of your dominant hand until you had to wear gloves to hide the marks and bruises. The gloves were somewhat of a deterrent when you wore them, as you learned to get quite adept at wearing them while typing, and had to pull them up to bite properly.

As you were reluctantly contemplating the aforementioned suitor's offer of courtship, Laszlo came to you with an offer of his own, a decidedly sweeter offer despite your parent's distaste for foreigners and lack of respect for his profession. He was still a wealthy man (wealthier than the alternative) of good standing (relative to the man they'd found for you) with a somewhat prestigious job, who wished to marry you with some level of expediency. Up until that point, you'd done your best to look at Laszlo as Dr. Kreizler - your boss first, and a man a distant second - in order to avoid any misunderstandings or scandals. You did not acknowledge his good looks, or his delectable accent, or the way his eyes seemed to see right through you. None of those things were relevant to your job. Somehow, you’d managed to do quite well in removing the man of him from the equation.

When he proposed a courtship, it had not been a way to save you from a worse fate like you might have feared it to be if you'd ever even had an inkling to the idea that he might ask. Which you hadn’t, because you had blinded yourself to him willfully to achieve a healthy working relationship. An entire world of possibility opened up between you when he forced your hand and made you finally acknowledge him as something other than your polite and kind boss, Dr. Kreizler. Your good doctor had asked you with sweetly pink cheeks and a flustered tongue, an honest fear in his eyes as he attempted quite needlessly to be forthright about his faults and how he might make up for them. You knew who he was. As you allowed yourself to think of him as an option, you realised how good of a man he truly was. He wasn’t a perfect man, certainly. He had a habit of being manipulative, and was far too shrewd not to recognize it. He lacked some social graces, which had given him the ability to see people that society had shunned, but also made him a bit abrasive at times. He was profoundly intelligent, which led him to sometimes confront people with the things they did not want to be faced with.

And yet, he was kind. Compassionate. He saw beyond your pretty wrapping to the heart of you, and appreciated both. He indulged you even when you were difficult. He gave everyone a chance based on merit, not class. His love warmed you like a fire, and very rarely burned you in equal measure. He was incredibly handsome, distinguished, and carried his age well. He dressed well, groomed himself appropriately and his voice made you quake. His arm did little if anything at all to quell your passion for him, once he lit the fire. All it took was one spark for you to burn.

It was as if the moment he began courting you, you began to see things you had never noticed before. Things that had always been there, and yet you had been completely blind to them. Despite the difficulty it gave him, he always pulled out your chair for you. He offered you his arm anytime you two had to walk anywhere together, and helped you in and out of the carriage despite having Cyrus there to do it for him. You, quite by accident, noticed him staring at you in the quiet moments in his office while you were typing up his notes for him, or taking his dictation. It wasn't the first time, though you had always passed it off as the man thinking, the direction of his gaze less important than the thoughts running through his brilliant mind. It wasn’t until you knew the fire in his eyes when he looked upon something he wanted that you began to recognize it in his gaze whenever he was looking at you.

Once, long before your courtship began, he had invited you to dinner with his motley crew of investigators at the Delmonico. You remember playfully remarking that you would have to buy a new dress for the occasion, only to find a dressbox laying on your desk the following morning when you came into work. Your insistence that he not waste his money on you was met with a disdainful look at the simple notion and a reminder that it would be impolite to refuse a gift given in earnest. Your parents would have had a fit if they knew you accepted such a gift from a man, but what they didn’t know couldn’t possibly hurt you. Every compliment from Ms. Howard and Mr. Moore made Laszlo subtly preen, apparently pleased to have picked something that suited you so well. You had thought his behaviour a tad odd - inviting the group's admiration of your dress, subtle as it may have been, was certainly not the doctor's usual style.

You had kept yourselves to courtship rules, holding hands only in presence of a chaperone for your good public image, what little remained. He took you on several long, chaperoned walks in between dinners with your family, and exchanged letters with you despite the fact that he saw you nearly every day for work. Your engagement swiftly followed, perhaps a bit faster than might’ve been acceptable if your parents hadn’t been in such a rush to be rid of you. The first time he kissed you, you swore you heard and felt him whimper. He was endlessly gentle with you, cherishing you in ways you never expected. He loved you long before you even knew that was a possibility, and he had hungered. Your next bite was to his lower lip, and then his chin, and then his neck. Instead of using gloves to redirect you, he now wore higher collars or guided your nipping mouth further down under his clothing.

It was a happy marriage. It is a happy marriage. Only a couple of months in and you’ve never been happier in your entire life. Your doctor, your husband, takes very good care of you. You want for nothing, except a moment more of his time. Just one more look. One more touch. One more kiss. You’re voracious - he’s accused you multiple times of being spoiled with a fondness in his voice that said he was perfectly okay with that. You think he’s been so hungry for you for so long that it’s only fair that you suffer the same ailment.

Your doctor combs your hair back from your face, leaning over you just the slightest bit to see your open eyes before he speaks, “You, my little wife, have not heard a single word I have said for the last hour, have you?”

You smile against your arm.

“Oh, no, my love. I was definitely listening.” You correct him, and he sighs, stroking the pad of his thumb over your plush lips and inviting a bite he knows is coming. He barely even flinches as you clamp your teeth around his skin, then he does shudder when you pull his thumb into your mouth.

“Some day, I will rid you of this compulsion.” he murmurs, and you bite around the base of his thumb before letting him pull free of you. His hand slips below the neck of your nightgown, and you shiver at the wet swipe across your nipple.

“You hardly want to, husband. Deny it all you like, we both know you like when I bite.”

He smirks, his strong hand slipping under your arms to help you stand on shaky, numb legs. Despite himself, he likes when you walk like a baby deer around him, whether due to his nightly (and often daily) passions, or simply because you like to kneel at his feet so often until your legs go numb.

“Come to bed, szerelmem. I think there’s still an inch of my neck that is yet to be bruised.” He teases, and you laugh, leaning into him as he helps you towards your bedroom. You’ve no doubt he’ll find yet another way to make your legs shake before the end of the night.

[ez-most-fajt]

Tudom, kincsem.

[egy-lany-blogja]

A kutya a legállhatatosabb barát - az első, aki üdvözöl, és a legbátrabb, aki védelmez. 🐾❤️

[kezenani]

szomorú séták

c. ciklusunkban ma egy 2015. nov. 25-i esetről emlékezem meg nektek

jézusom. itt az volt, hogy másfélórás gymstick óra után 2,5 km-es gyaloglással izzadtan, fáradtan érkeztem haza, kulcs nélkül. férj itthon, telefonja lemerülve. a birtok bevehetetlen, próbáltam, elhiheted. nagyon sokat bóklásztam a környéken, kedves kis utcákon fel-alá, mindig vissza-visszatérve, hátha férj körbejár, ahogy amúgy mindig teszi, hiába. egyetlen kincsem a szép-kártyám. nekiindultam hát a világnak, hátha férjnek előbb-utóbb feltűnik hiányom. irdatlan messze találtam egy bisztrót - fenti fotón megörökítve -, egyedüli és valószínűleg utolsó vendégként egy forró paradicsomlevest óhajtottam. isteni volt, tüzes fűszerezéssel, lavornyi adag. az utolsó cseppeket kanalaztam, amikor férj megcsörrintett. öröltem neki, mert késő volt, hideg, este és fél kilenc.

fitneszre a továbbiakban kora délután jártam inkább.

[egyrokacsodaorszagban]

álmomban egy medvét vettem észre hazafelé. a szomszéd kertjében masírozott fel-alá. bemenekültem a házba és láttam, ahogy a medve egy nyitott kertkapun át az utcára téved. kétségbeesetten hívtam apát. nem magamat, őt féltettem. figyelmeztetni akartam, hogy vigyázzon, ne jöjjön haza, egy medve van az utcában. annyira féltettem. olyan nagyon féltettem őt. és felvette a telefont ("szia kincsem!") és én elkezdtem mondani, hogy itt a medve, de már kopogok bentről az ablakon, hogy eltereljem a figyelmét, csak vigyázzon magára, könyörgöm, csak nagyon vigyázzon magára...

bárcsak figyelmeztethetném

[whumpshaped]

anon i just got around to writing ur ask, and i wanted to give u some more stuff bc i too am insane abt languages. this is MY interpretation of these terms of endearment as just one (1) hungarian w limited personal experience, so take it w a grain of salt :)

angyalom (my angel): i think this one's kind of old timey too, between lovers. can be angyalkám (my little angel) which is like... idk i guess could be between lovers but i associate it with parent to child.

aranyom (my gold): veeery much between lovers, possibly parent to child too. maybe grandparents to grandchildren.

baba/babám (baby/my baby): i feel like this is common even between friends. girlfriends call each other baba a lot i think. oh this one has infinite dimunitives. baba, babus, babci- ok maybe not infinite. kisbabám (my little baby) is def a parent to child term though i think. but yeah the others kinda work in all contexts. two straight guys would Not unironically say it to each other tho lol

bogaram (my bug): iiiii am unsure? i'm not sure it works between lovers? maybe it does? it probably does. i associate it with a parent to child relationship. can be bogárkám (my little bug) or if you're my grandparents arany bogaram (my golden bug) kicsi arany bogárkám (my little golden bug)

cica/nyuszi/maci/csibe/etc. (kitten/bunny/little bear/baby chick): these and all the other cutesy animal names and whatever you can come up with- obviously works between lovers, sometimes parent to child. my mom sometimes called us kiskutyám (my little puppy). it's about as cringey as the english version of calling someone kitten, which is "if it works for you and you think it's cute, awesome, others will just associate it with daddy and his discord kitten"

csillagom/csillagfényem (my star/my starlight): very lovey-dovey, possibly parent to child. ALSO could be csillagvirágom (my starflower)

drágám/drágaságom (my precious, i'd also translate it to my darling in english): this is def one of the go-to cheesy married couple terms. drágám i mean. drágaságom is more... parent to child maybe? it's less married couple-y

édesem (my sweet): a lovers term mostly. it works parent to child too

egyetlenem (my only one): this one is very much a lovers term. no notes. it's sweet...

életem (my life): this one is also pretty romantic, could be parent to child tho

galambom (my dove): DEFINITELY old timey. this is the one you hear in older hungarian romantic folk songs. it's cute though. used between lovers

kedvesem (my dear): not suuuper common, can def come off as cheesy or trying to be old timey lol used between lovers

kicsim/kicsikém/picim (my little one): lovers or parent to child, i think. i don't think it works in any other context.

kincsem (my treasure): this is one i like.... also can be used as kicsi kincsem or kincsecském (my little treasure). can be between lovers, or can be parent to child.

szerelmem (my love): def can come off as cheesy lol it's like 99% of a lovers term, but i feel like sometimes it can be used parent to child. i must mention the phrase/word szívszerelmem (love of my heart) because it's adorable and i like using it. it's not really a term of endearment i guess, it's more used as like. soulmate maybe? whenever i use it i'm using it in a dramatic, exaggerated, and sarcastic way lol

thats all i can think of :) and yes, within all of them we MUST emphasise that the other person is ours <3 mine mine mine

szívem (my heart): common term of endearment used between lovers, married couples, family members etc. sometimes kicsi szívem/kis szívem/szívecském (my little heart). very affectionate

virágom (my flower): old timey, also one from the old romantic folk songs. def romantic

[anyadisszeretne]

Amikor az orvosok először behoztak és rám emeltek az egyetlen amit mondani tudtam az volt, hogy "kincsem". Mert habár a többiek közhelyesnek tartják én világ életemben gazdag akartam lenni tele mindenféle kincsekkel és jó sok pénzzel de akkor lettem igazán nagyon gazdag amikor te megérkeztél az életembe. Hirtelen mindenem meglett.

9 hónapos kincsem