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#it’s the epitome of domesticity
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How would Scaramouche behave with his children (possibly his son) :)
like a good dad :)
sorry, i already said it but children aren’t exactly my favourite topic and as a man in his early twenties (to me), scara just isn’t the ultimate dad; i tried my best to indulge the other asks but i don’t really want to turn this into a thing
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housetzuyu · 2 months
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i'm only at the beginning of s6 of house but i'm positive i just watched the best episode of the season and maybe one of the best of the entire show
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elanormcinerney · 1 year
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Introduction by Emily Wilson | Homer | The Iliad
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getosbf · 2 years
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So his "roommate" brought a stray cat in and he's now scolding him that he wont be able to take care of it and leaves it back where his "roommate" found it with a shawl and box and came back and cooked for himself and his "roommate" and purposefully made it less spicy because he knows his "roommate" can't handle spicy food and when his "roommate" says distractedly that 'it's decent' he asks his "roommate" oh so caringly if he's still mad about the cat and this is the first-fucking-episode??? And you want me to believe what, that they're just roommates??????
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This cat is such a fucking moron
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mejomonster · 1 year
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Silent Reading was so good I can't. I can't get over it
I can't. I can't believe Justice in the Dark just... cmon universe work a miracle man...
Fei Du and Luo Wenzhou are like truly some of my favorite couple dynamics ever. I was absolutely enamoured. I need like 500,000 more words of just them
Need me a sequel where they just solve some more murders and fei du proves he just Can't stay out of the Meddling With Crime business, and his whole side organization is run by those 2 friends I ship (who's names I'm blanking on rn) and Luo Wenzhou almost gets in political trouble because it comes out a CEO of a private company (fei du) has been reading all his evidence notes
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Losing Dogs
Neither you or Aegon wanted to get married. Neither you or Aegon wanted to marry each other. But at some point, you figured you should make the most of what you had, and so you offer your husband a deal he cannot refuse.
Aegon Targaryen x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage/loveless marriage, smut (piv, virginity loss, rough/loveless sex) DD:DNE, alcoholism, violence, suicide/suicidal thoughts & ideation, mentions of domestic/child abuse, death, pregnancy/miscarriage, aegon's mommy issues, insecurities, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: ... i had something to say about this fic but i forgot... maybe ill remember later???? edit: i did not remember. i thought of mitski while entitling this so go play i bet on losing dogs ig?
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @azperja @sloanexx @risefallrise
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You don't know what you have until it's gone.
Aegon only truly understood what this meant the day he was married and he was forbidden to drink a drop of alcohol.
As if it wasn't painful enough that he was going to be married to a complete stranger from some house he's never fucking heard of, he was erratic and uneasy the whole day because of the withdrawal. He loathes the preparation, the ceremony, the fucking pageantry of it all.
He thinks it was worse that you seemed to be so chipper the entire time. You smiled with a halo, skin shining with the light. You also seemingly did no wrong, judging by the praises you received from his mother and grandfather. But, who was he kidding, of course they fucking loved you, they chose you to be his prison keeper.
You did not press him once, not when you were preparing for the ceremony, not when you were at the feast, not even after the Queen encouraged you to dance.
Anyone with eyes could see from how he slumped on his chair during dinner that Aegon would rather die than circle around the room to this grating noise echoing in the chamber.
The band begins to play another song and another round of dancing ensues.
He stares at the food on the table. Oh, to be a suckling pig.
The relief that coursed through him when he could finally leave was enough to knock him out. Except, he really wanted, no, needed a drink.
He crashes on his bed, belly down, and reaches for the cabinet door on his bedside table. He feels for his bottle, hand knocking into the corners of the compartment, but he sits up when he finds nothing.
He growls in frustration upon realizing this was definitely his mother's doing. Thief!
"I managed a cup."
Aegon struggles to look over his shoulder from his position. He rolls on his back as you walk to the side of the bed.
He stares at you. You offer a glass holding burgundy liquid. Your voice is soft and kind as you explain, "your mother would suspect me if I took a whole bottle."
Aegon pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. He gulps at the wine you were offering.
Sure, he may not be the brightest, but anyone could tell this scene was the epitome of ulterior motives. Aegon leans on his thighs, "why are you doing this?"
You stare a moment. You clutch the cup in both hands and examine it. Again, your voice is gentle, "you are clearly in torment. It hurts my heart."
His eye twitches.
I see. It seems you were a fucking saint.
Aegon rips the glass out of your hands, some of the wine spills over. He downs the contents in one go, then chucks the glass across the room once he finished.
He looks back at you, glaring with watery eyes. He was exhausted, he was angry, and he wanted you to know it. But you don't flinch at the sound of the glass breaking. You didn't flinch at all when he showed aggression. Why didn't you flinch?
You press your lips and sigh. You step towards him and reach out.
He nervously straightens up and tilts his head back as you approach. His breath hitches when your warm hand touches his cheek. He blinks rapidly.
"It's been a long day. Would you like me to help you change?"
Again, his eye twitches.
And then he realizes what you mean.
Ah. So, this is what you wanted?
He releases a breath, eyes lowering. Your face falls into a slight frown.
He thinks about it for a moment. I mean, sex was sex and he was game. It didn't matter how he performed, his completion was all that mattered, really. And you were pretty enough, albeit irritatingly good.
When you stroke his hair, Aegon pulls at your skirts, causing you to squeak and topple, hands flying to his shoulders for support. Your faces are inches apart. He pulls you down until you have no other choice than to sit on his lap.
You can smell the remnants of the wine he just drank on his breath. Aegon brings his face closer to yours, and you let out a soft 'hmp'. You mutter, "I gather you don't want to change, but want to get out of your clothes."
He narrows his eyes as you shift on his lap and undo the buttons by his chest. He mutters dumbly, "this is what you wanted."
With knit brows, you retort, "I've not yet told you what I wanted." You shift on his lap again as you peel his top off. Amidst it, he asks, "what do you want?"
You grunt after ridding him of his top. You fold it in your arms then set it aside on the bed. You turn back to him. Aegon's breath hitches when you fondle with strings of his undershirt. He watches your lips as you mumble, "I want you to give me a ride on your dragon."
He furrows his brows. But that's what he just said.
You stand, only to lift your skirt and take your place back on his lap. This time, you straddle him.
Aegon gulps, hands coming to your hips like a magnet. He feels you grind on him; shaky breaths leave his lips in response. His hands scratch up your back and a moan escapes him when your nails trace his collarbones.
"Allow me one trip on Sunfyre, and in return, I'll be your magic lamp," you whisper, taking one of his hands, bringing it to the side of your ribs, "you may rub me where you like-"
His heart skips when you kiss his cheek.
"-and I will grant you all your wishes."
Aegon ticks.
The next moment, he pushes you down on the bed. He doesn't bother getting either of you naked, nor does he prepare you at all in fact. Thankfully, you were already wet.
You don't have the opportunity to ask him to be gentle, to explain you were a bride after all, and it was your wedding night.
Aegon grips your skirts as he fucks you like he means to prove a point. He snaps his hips roughly into you to assert dominance, to exemplify control. Sure, you offered yourself to him, but he was the one doing the work, and you were the one beneath him.
In truth, the pace he set gave you more pain rather than pleasure. And with how pent up he was, the rough tempo he set burnt him out way too quickly before it could make any of you feel good. And when he begins to lag, you start to feel good.
You notice this change and rub your nose against his. He recoils, unused to affection when fucking. It snaps him back into an aggressive trance.
You yelp. Aegon convinced himself it was a sound of bliss.
You kiss his jaw and work your way to his ear, hoping to calm him down. He tenses at the feel of your tongue on his lobe. It stokes flames in his belly and makes him involuntarily roll his hips slower to focus on the attention you're giving. In return, his pace is just enough for him to hit that spot that makes you throw your head back.
Aegon is startled by the scratchy groan that leaves your throat. He finds himself lifting his head to spectate, but you pull him into you by the nape and groan, "like that. Please- gods - that feels good."
His brows tense and he rolls his hips again, finding the same reaction.
You wrap your arms and legs around him, uncaring of how hot and sweaty you were getting. In the heat of the moment, you reach for his lips, needing them, needing something to wrap your own on.
Aegon kisses you. He kisses you with a strange twinge in his chest. He kisses you until he has to pull away and reposition himself to catch his building climax.
In a second, he's back to his fuck-loving self, only self-serving and lustful. As he gazes upon your writhing body, catching the beads of sweat on your skin, the concentration on your face, and the way you chant his name as you part your legs for him, he's overcome by another spirit. To watch you break, to watch you coil and collapse around him felt just as urgent as his need to come.
And so Aegon rubs your clit and forces you to peak first; you do it so well he curses loudly and comes after.
He lays on top of you for a moment, the overwhelming need to be held ripples through his body. He recalls how his whores shoo him away after he's done fucking them though. Before you can cradle him in your arms, he rolls off you.
You close your legs and and watch him strip himself and sequentially change. You watch him get back in bed and bring himself underneath the covers. He goes to sleep.
He fucking goes to sleep.
You feel hollow after this, but tell yourself it's nothing personal. You repeat this as you, yourself, get up and change, sequentially sleeping too. Or at least you try. You have fight the urge to cry for hours before you do.
The next morning, you bring up dragon riding to Aegon, and disappointed as you are, you are unsurprised to find that he was unwilling to give you such a thing.
It was a plain thing you were asking for, you explain. And it's exactly why he doesn't want to do it. It's clearly some trick, something to trap him, something he's going to regret. It was probably some ploy orchestrated by his mother.
Oh gods, he thinks, it's worse. It's a bonding experience so you can make him into your puppet. Fuck. No.
So, he does what he does best, and makes an excuse, "I don't feel like riding today. I'm still exhausted from the festivities."
You purse your lips and nod, "that's understandable. Would you like for me to get you something?"
Wait. You weren't going to argue about him not keeping his end of the deal?
You seem to catch this, considering your response and the way you take his hand. You place his palm on your chest. He can feel your pulse quicken as you mutter, "I am your magic lamp, husband. I wish to please you. I will prove this until you trust me enough to grant me a ride on dragonback."
He narrows his eyes, "you would grant me wishes, all in return for a ride on Sunfyre?"
You smile softly at him, "in return for respite, yes."
He doesn't trust your smile.
"I want to visit the Grey Cliffs. I have for a years now. I went there once as a child and long to go again."
"Why?" he knits his brows at your explanation, "what's there?"
You lower his hand and rub his skin, "respite, my prince."
Aegon pulls his hand away.
Very well. If that is what you want, then he will wear your wishes dry until you find it no longer worth the trouble.
Aegon wishes on his lamp everyday, and his wife sequentially plays entertainer, jester, servant, and slave.
He makes you bring a bottle of wine with you everywhere, and pour him a cup when he wishes. He loathes how you seem unbothered by it. He loathes how you don't even correct a visiting Lord who mistakes you for a cupbearer and simply serve him some wine. The Lord is mortified when he realizes you are his wife, a fucking princess. Aegon hates how you tell the man you were unbothered because you spent your whole life being a cupbearer to your father anyway.
He makes you do trivial tasks as well, sometimes tasks meant for more than one person at a time, and yet you still manage to do them, annoyingly better than the maids. When he demanded you cook him a full course meal, you did so all by yourself, and had the servants looking at you like you were some goddess.
He ripped a hole in his clothes then made you mend it. You covered the hole so seamlessly that he poked a bigger one right in front of you. And even then you don't give him the satisfaction of getting angry. You tell him you will embroider something on top of the hole and he storms off. He overhears you telling the servants, who applaud your level-headedness, that you were used to angry men, because your father was just the same.
You use each of these moments to somehow tell him you were the perfect wife and he had to oblige your stupid request at some point.
But then he found your flaw.
Aegon asked you to play the harpsichord for him, and you told him you did not know how. The woman who knew all did not know something? He would then proceed to hang this over your head. When he asked you for food, he'd tell you how much better it'd taste if he had entertainment. If he asked you to do something physically taxing for him, he's say that he wouldn't have asked you to do it, had you known how to play his 'favorite' instrument. He would use this as the reason why he could never bring you to Grey Cliffs.
It was all fun and games, but then you had to snitch, hadn't you?
"What are you doing to that poor girl!" Queen Alicent barked, making his ears ring.
Aegon groans from where he lies in bed. His mother rips the blankets off him, making him wake in a sour mood.
"She is your wife!" Alicent yells, "not your slave! Fine, you wish her to do tasks for you, tasks for your betterment. But to insult her standing by treating her like a maid is beneath a prince, Aegon!"
Aegon feels his throat tighten at the sight of his angry mother's face, "she is my wife," he growls, "I do with her as I please."
She strikes his cheek.
Aegon's head whips to the side. He doesn't have the energy to look back at her.
"You will no longer parade her as a cupbearer. I will have it decreed you are not ever served a drop of wine if you don't."
Alicent leaves after this. Aegon's anger explodes when the door closes.
He screams and rips at his hair. He kicks furniture around and eventually drops to the floor, exhausted, furious, and hurt. This was all your fault.
He screams again and claws the tears on his face. He slowly exhales through tight lips. His cheek is hot with saltwater. Who was he joking, this was all him.
This was all Aegon's doing.
His breathing is impeded by snot. He walks over to his window and stares at the ground below. If he jumps head first, not even the best maester in Westeros could fix him.
Before he can lean on the ledge, he is paralyzed in his spot by the sound of the door opening.
"I did not know she would be angry with you," you say.
Aegon looks back.
You see his red eyes and wet skin. He is a mirror to your younger self. You feel sick to your stomach. You try to explain, "I only asked if she could find a harpsichord teacher. I did not realize she would take offense in wanting to learn to play for you."
Aegon's heart aches at your naïve response. You were a stupid, perfect wife, and he, a stupid, petulant husband.
"I'm better off dead," he mumbles, looking back out the window. The call of the fall felt inviting, "want to push me, wife?"
You don't respond.
Aegon looks back at you, and suddenly you're only inches away. He tries to evade you, but you manage to catch his hand.
"We could jump together."
"What?"
Your face is blank. You part your lips, and for a moment, your eyes seem desperate, but then it's gone. You sigh, "dying is quite lonely," looking down, "I could keep you company."
Aegon stares at you. Tears stream down his face. "You're mad," he sniffles, yanking his hand away.
He walks over to his bed and collapses on it. He wraps himself in a blanket and feels sorry for himself, and angry at you for suggesting such a thing. Even now you want to be perfect by dying with him?
"I am," you mutter.
Aegon watches as you walk over to him. You sit on the floor beside his bed and look at your hands as you rub them.
"I cannot play the harpsichord, because my father does not like noise," you explain, "I was not allowed to make a sound or else I would be punished."
Aegon covers his head with a blanket but keeps his face visible, "he beat you, didn't he?"
You look at him, eyes melancholy, but still, he is the only one crying, "he beat everyone."
Aegon does not respond.
"I can sing though."
His brow raises, "how can you sing?"
"I would practice whenever he was gone, and sing for my mother in secret. It made her happy... happy enough."
He knew there was more to this confession, but he was too tired to ask about it, too tired to shed more tears.
"Would you like me to sing for you?"
"No."
"..."
"..."
"Would you like me to hold you?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
You stand from where you sat and get on the edge of the bed. Aegon watches as you slowly lie beside him. You bring an arm over him and pull him close. Aegon closes his eyes as you bring him into your chest.
You hold him until he falls asleep. Later that night, he asks you to hold him again. He also asks you to sing to him.
Aegon nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He wraps his arms around your torso, digging his fingers between your flesh and the bed. Your hushed voice reverberates in the bedroom, the song you sing is haunting and soothing. The vibrations from your chest lull him to sleep. You feel wetness pool by your clavicle but you make no note of it.
Aegon asks you to hold him the next morning after breaking fast. He asks you to stay with him in bed and to sing to him some more. When you have to leave his side, he asks to join you and waits until he can have you in his arms again.
Aegon becomes your shadow, and follows you around, under the promise of getting to share in your embrace. As you read and review letters or ledgers, your seat becomes Aegon's lap. He sleeps against you while you work without a fuss, cheek pressed against your back, arms fastened around your waist.
Sometimes, he notices the line that forms between your brows while you read and at some point, asks about it. You explain what causes it, and he is unmoved, as he is uninterested in politics that stress you. But when you read out to him, he finds comfort in your voice and asks you to read some. He falls asleep to your calm droning of circumstances he could not care less about. He groans and groggily awakens when you stop. He mumbles against your skin that you continue, pleadingly so.
When you had to leave the Keep for business, Aegon insisted that he joined you. When you brushed his cheek and explained to him why he could not go and that you would not be long, Aegon pushed you away and stormed off. You left without him anyway, and the treachery he felt was so great, he realized then how he could no longer go day to day without you. What was there to do, if you were not there?
And so Aegon desperately rubs his magic lamp and wishes upon you.
He wishes that you never leave without him again once you return.
He wishes that you promise to no longer make plans without him.
He traps you beneath him on your shared bed and wishes to be inside you. He kisses you and wishes to see you completely bared to him.
Aegon's mind is dizzy as he gazes upon the glory of your skin. He kisses your thighs, your hips, your breast, your lips.
Aegon wishes to surrender to you. He wishes that you undress him. He wishes to pull you on his body like a blanket. He wishes to see you take control. He wishes to see you cast your eyes upon him and lay your weight on his body.
He wishes to see you use him, to take what you need from him, to pleasure yourself, and to make him yours. He squeezes your thighs desperately when you moan out his name. This was much more maddening that what he imagined it would be.
He wishes to feel you come undone around him. He wishes he could forever feel the pleasure he did when he comes right after you do.
He wishes to hold you after. And when he holds you, when you lay on his chest and kiss him there, he wishes to never leave this moment ever again. He wishes to sing to you like you've sung to him.
"What are your plans tomorrow," Aegon asks as he draws nothings on your back.
You lift your head from his chest. He looks at you. You smile, "whatever you wish them to be."
He rubs your back and smiles, "I wish to take you to the Grey Cliffs."
Your expression drops, "what?"
He raises a brow at your reaction. You shift on your place. You straddle him again.
He looks up at you, noticing the line between your brows. He rubs your thighs, "you've granted me all my wishes. It's time I grant you yours." He shifts on his elbows and sits himself up, "it's time you meet my mount and-"
"We don't have to," you cut him off, placing your hands on his shoulders.
Aegon examines your expression. He listens to you sigh.
"I'd like to keep you-- wish to keep you..." you correct yourself, pushing him back down.
He looks up at you, feeling your hands rake up his body.
"...just like this," you finish, eyes solemn, lips curving into a soft smile, "I've not felt a thing like this in my entire life."
Aegon takes one of your hands and places it on his cheek. He whispers it like a secret, "neither have I."
You lean down to kiss him, "I wish to keep like this."
He kisses you back.
He is blindsided by how his wishes came to bite him in the arse. It's all crashing down on him. Suddenly, he wishes he didn't actually do any of those things with you.
He most of all wishes he heard you wrong. He wishes you didn't repeat yourself when he stupidly said, "what?"
"I'm with child," you speak slower, less excited yet excited still.
Aegon wishes you didn't look so excited. He wishes he fucking pulled out, but gods, you felt so good-- you feel so good around him, he felt so good inside you.
He realized the next moment, it couldn't be helped. You were going to have to bear his spawn at one point or another. He wishes you didn't have to. He wishes his seed wouldn't take completely. He wishes you don't take it to term. He wishes he won't have to be a father. Fuck.
He realizes he's been too quiet and you were waiting for a response from him. Your face began to twist. Your smile fades.
"Congratulations," Aegon musters. He feels like he swallowed a metal ball. His eyes wander to your belly. He mumbles mindlessly, "I suppose."
Your face falls.
Aegon looks back at you. Your face is devoid of any semblance of the glow it normally holds. You look sick. You feel sick.
"I see," you say, unintentionally allowing him to hear your voice break. Aegon's brows furrow at it.
He shakes his head, "you will be a great mother," he chuckles dryly, "you mother me so well."
You offer him a smile, but Aegon can see how disconnected it was from your eyes. You say, "thank you."
When you leave him after this, he wishes he hadn't said a word. He wishes he just left it at congratulations. He wishes he just pretended like the idea of having a child didn't mortify him and make him sick to his stomach. He wishes he wasn't so ill-suited to be a father.
Ageon no longer wishes for anything after this.
He no longer wishes to hold you, though he so badly wanted to. He no longer wishes to hear you sing, nor does he wish to hear you read to him. He no longer wishes to be around you, though his body urged him to follow you around like the lost soul he was.
He wishes he didn't wonder what you were doing at every moment of the day. He so desperately wishes to rid you from his mind completely that he drowns himself in his first and only true love, alcohol.
Fuck. He wishes he hadn't taken this route to his room. He wishes you hadn't taken this route to wherever it was you were going. He wishes he just turned around and fled like the coward he was, because then, you wouldn't have spoken to him.
"Husband," you curtsey.
Aegon stiffens and uncomfortably avoids your eyes.
You catch it, feeling your chest tighten painfully. You clear your throat and take a deep breath to steel yourself, "I thought you should know that I will be travelling."
Aegon looks at you.
"I have a ship ready and I'll be visiting the Grey Cliffs. Do not wait up for me."
His face falls. He opens his mouth, but doesn't have an opportunity to speak.
"I thought you should also know that I am no longer carrying."
His eyes widen.
"It's not an uncommon occurrence the first few months," you say simply, "I suppose the gods do not wish me to be a mother."
Aegon feels like a murderer. He wants to say something, to apologize, to comfort you, but he can't. He's too taken aback to do a single thing.
He turns into stone when you take his hand. You step forward and place his palm on your chest. Your heart is slow as you speak, "you won't have to worry about anything anymore, Aegon. Today is the end of our shared torment."
Aegon's stomach drops when you kiss him.
His eyes are glassy. You pull away before he can kiss you back. He wants to hold you, but the sadness in your eyes reminds him he is undeserving. You kiss his wrist, "goodbye, my love. I love you."
His heart thumps as you walk away.
Aegon is manic. He basks in the mess he's made and feels crushed by it all.
He finally acts after wasting so much time feeling sorry for himself. You were long out of his sight by the time he started running. This is why he headed to the dragonpit and got on Sunfyre.
"WAIT!" he screams, just as your boat leaves the dock.
Aegon watches as you run to the edge of the boat. He lands Sunfyre and runs as far to the edge of the docks as he could.
"Aegon-"
"Take me with you!" he pleads, "let me be the one to take you to where you must go!"
You look back. The ship stops. The crew brings down a boat and on it, you are rowed back to the dock.
He crushes you in his arms once he reaches you.
"Aegon," you mutter.
"Forgive me," he shudders, "I... I wish you let me do this for you."
"Aegon," your voice croaks. You push him away, "go home."
His heart drops. He breaks away to look at you. Your words feel like a stab at his thorax. It was presumptuous of him to assume you'd want him back, but it doesn't kill him inside any less.
"I've come to realize this is a trip I must go on myself," you mutter.
He shakes his head, "no. Please." He motions an arm out to his mount, "one wish. That I grant you one wish before you throw me away forever is... is--"
Your throat constricts at his words. Tears rush down your eyes, "I'm not throwing you away--"
"Please," he squeezes both your hands in his, "please, let me do this for you."
The flight to the Grey Cliffs is quiet, save for the whoosh of winds and the roars of the golden dragon you both rode. You always imagined it would be freeing, but only now did you know how it freeing it truly felt to fly. You knew now you'd forever chase the euphoric crush of air against your skin.
Aegon, who sat behind you, looks at your form as you outstretch your arms and close your eyes. Your body presses against him, and in this moment, he is unable to hold back from wrapping an arm around you and sparing a kiss on your shoulder. You are snapped out of your trance because of this.
The Grey Cliffs are dark and gloomy when you get there. Aegon realizes when you land that it got its name from the weather conditions.
He helps you down and surveys the area, trying to make out which part of this drear land was so special to you that you wished to go here.
You catch his expression and squeeze his hand.
Aegon turns to you.
You give a solemn look, "the view is better on the edge."
Aegon strokes Sunfyre's cheek, commanding him to stay before you lead him by the hand to the edge of the cliff. Once you get there, he feels queasy looking down at the crashing waves far beneath him. In contrast, you seem comforted by the view. His brows furrow at the deep breath you give out.
When you look at him, his stomach feels it, the comfort you felt upon witnessing the violent waves. Whatever it was that compelled you to this place was the same force that compelled him to kiss you.
He reaches out for your cheek, his other hand coming to you back. He pulls you close. His heart twinges when you stop him from kissing you.
"Aegon-"
"Forgive me," he cuts, "I beg."
You gawk at him. He brushes your hair which was wildly flinging with the breeze.
"You must know by now that I am craven. I lack the spine and the wit to be of any use to you."
Your eyes water. Your lips quiver.
"I would be a hopeless father, worse than my own, no doubt."
"Aegon," you babble as sobs overtake you.
Aegon, himself, succumbs to tears. He wipes the ones streaming down your face before taking a breath, "but you made me feel a love I do not deserve."
You swallow a heavy lump in your throat.
"I love you," he confesses.
"No," you pierce his heart. You shake your head in disagreement, "Aegon, this is a mistake. Bringing you here was a mistake."
"No!" he blurts louder than needed, "this was a choice," he looks down, "I choose to rip my insides out for you to devour. I am miserable, much more in the heat of your hate, but most of all without you."
His downturned eyes land on your face when you grab his wrists. You croak, "I do not hate you."
Aegon is not relieved by the admission, but he chooses to believe you mean it. He smiles softly, "good."
"But I do hate this life I live."
He clenches his jaw. Of course you do.
"You saved me," you press a hand on his cheek, taking your turn to wipe his tears, "even if for a moment."
"I made you miserable."
You chuckle. The sound makes his heart skip.
"You filled my life with purpose," you smile softly, "even when you did not mean to."
Aegon knits his brows deeply and takes your hands. He brings them to his lips and kisses them.
"But accidents happen. You must remember that accidents happen all the time."
Aegon shakes his head, "this is not an accident. Believe me when I say I chose to do this, I- ... I choose to love you."
You sob and turn to your feet.
"Please... believe me."
You sniffle and nod, slowly looking up at him, "I believe you."
You lunge into his arms and seal him into a tight hug. He hugs you back like it's his only way of surviving.
A crack of thunder startles Sunfyre. He becomes restless and steals away Aegon's attention, panicked that he might flee and leave them here.
He pulls away and takes a step towards her. He holds your hand, urging you to follow, "we should go before it rains."
You hug him from behind and press your face into his back, "thank you for taking me on Sunfyre."
"It was a long time coming."
"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly. And now that I know how peaceful it is, I'm ready to fly one last time."
He turns to you as you slowly come to his side. You hold his hand. He looks at you as you turn to Sunfyre. He promises, "I will take you on dragonback as many times as you wish."
You smile, but your eyes are fixed on his dragon. You release his hand and wrap your arms around yourself, "he is beautiful. You must never tire looking at him."
Aegon gazes upon Sunfyre. He takes in his golden scales and has newfound appreciation.
You take a step back.
"He is. To be honest, it's been long since I, myself, took him out of the pit. He must enjoy this day as much as you do."
"Aegon, you must understand that what I have to say has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me."
Aegon turns to you. He watches you tighten your arms around yourself. You must be cold. He rubs your shoulders.
You shake your head and turn him back to his dragon, "look at Sunfyre."
He knits his brows, "I'm looking."
"For so long," you release him, "I've wanted to fly free, to find my peace here in the cliffs. This was before I even met you." You point at the golden dragon, "I choose to love you too, but accidents happen, like if Sunfyre were to fly away, and you were to be left here alone."
Aegon stares at his ride for a moment as you lower your hand. He tries to makes sense of your words, but he cannot for the life of him understand.
He sighs, "what accident? Why do you keep-"
Aegon is flooded by confusion when he turns and finds you nowhere behind him. A split second later, he lets a horrified scream and the fear that claws into him makes his knees buckle. He crumbles to the ground and crawls to the edge of the cliff. He screams so loud that Sunfyre roars back and comes towards him.
Aegon watches as the red seafoam bubbles at the foot of the cliff. He watches as the crimson waves slowly slosh back into its original tint.
Rain begins to pour, and his tears taste no longer salty.
Was this the flying you ached for? Was this the relief you sought?
When he returns to King's Landing, dripping wet, he breaks down in front of his mother, weeping as he clutched his skirts.
Queen Alicent is obviously disturbed. She instructs her servants to get his son a change of clothes and some towels. She looks down at him, "what's happened? What's wrong, Aegon?"
"An accident-" he barely manages to say, "there's been an accident."
"An accident?!"
Aegon's mind goes blank. A bitter taste
You don't know what you have until it's gone.
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eggyrocks · 4 months
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35mm: k. akaashi
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after partnering up with a familiar film student for his senior thesis, akaashi starts to feel something he thinks might be better off suppressed….
main masterlist
status: complete
pairing: akaashi x f!reader
tags/warnings: brothers best friend trope, university au, smau, very slight angst, guilt/shame, alcohol, grammatical mistakes probably, everyone probably will be out of character, please note warnings may change as story progresses, and to check each chapter for individual warnings
minors dni & other rules
bonus content: akaashi’s playlist | akaashi style guide | yn style guide
introductions: kenma + sugar babies | welcome 2 the omegaverse
chapter one: friendship rankings
chapter two: keg stand
chapter three: dostokovestky
chapter four: boys brunch
chapter five: auditions
chapter six: "little giggle"
chapter seven: code for [redacted]
chapter eight: weird and also hurtful [✐]
chapter nine: “making my film major roommate watch bad movies”
chapter ten: spreading false information
chapter eleven: haed
chapter twelve: drive home [✐]
chapter thirteen: too many wednesdays
chapter fourteen: changing the locks [✐]
chapter fifteen: sleeper cell
chapter sixteen: he admit it
chapter seventeen: the astro
chapter eighteen: as she sees it [✐]
chapter nineteen: slowly and rationally
chapter twenty: pizza time! [✐]
chapter twenty-one: just us
moodboard/description for 35mm by @causenessus
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"FREDERICK BHAER AND JO ALL THE WAY I KNOW LAURIE IS IN HERE BUT ONLY BC THE SCENE IS LITERALLY JO LOOKING SO HAPPY OVER WATCHING A PERFORMANCE AND LAURIE IS GIVING HER THE LOOK OF LOVE. WHICH IS ANOTHER AESTHETIC KIND OF POINT THAT NEEDS TO BE MADE. the kind of both people are independent but lean on each other dynamic. like they could be by themselves (at least akaashi could) but wants to be with the other and the other person only. the kind of"i can do it" "i know you can but let me" dynamic. going to the gas station together at 3 am because one of them wants ice cream kind of aesthetic (totally not based off of when they were eating takeout together at his place). late nights and domesticity. yn and akaashi are the epitome of the quiet life people dream of, living in an apartment with their significant other. just them. that's their world. definitely dark academia like someone else said. definitely library dates. the couple that's helping the other study for their assignments or go to cafes together to work on homework (and one of them might end up pushing their homework aside just to look at the other person) i'm feeling fade into you and like real people do"
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jyoongim · 7 months
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~Blood & BLISS~
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Human!Alastor x wife!Reader
Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 
chapter two
Synopsis: Marrying New Orleans famous radio host had been a shocker to everyone. You, a southern belle from an esteemed family, had somehow managed to catch the attention of the mysterious bachelor. 
Your wedding was all in the papers and talk of the town, even though the ceremony was rather private.
You quickly settled in as the homemaker as Alastor brought home the dough and took care of you. 
It was a dream come true.
But Alastor was strange, even to you and you were his wife, but you brushed it off as him just being a man.  You had nothing to complain about. You lived in a nice big house, had the finest luxuries, and Alastor would dote on you. What wasn’t to love?
Well… all those things were nice, but you were starting to crave a family with your husband.
You knew of Alastor’s upbringing and had an inkling that children might not be an option…but Alastor wouldn’t deny you what you desired most would he? Of course not ma belle.
Alastor prided himself on how people often wondered about him. The renowned radio host, who the public rarely saw. He was a mystery to many. He frequented jazz lounges and often could be found drinking whiskey as he listened to the Mimzy gossip about the latest news.
He,  himself was shocked when he met you, the prettiest thing in the city. He had to have you. He knew you were the one.
Like the gentleman he was, he sent you flowers and love letters to begin courting you. He never tired of how shy you were around him. 
It wasn’t long before he asked your father for your hand and the two of you got hitched.
And what a wedding it was! he spared no expense to your disapproval.
Alastor was the epitome of what every husband inspired to be! 
Doting, providing, and attentive.
But he had a secret he kept from his little wife…
Can he maintain control over his domestic affairs and his sinister ones?
Soft jazz played in the background as you busied around the kitchen preparing dinner. The sizzling of the oil carried the scent of fried chicken as you chopped collards and added them to another pan to fry.
You hummed along to whatever song was playing as you cooked.
You took the chicken out of the grease, poured some of it in a can for later and used the rest to make cornbread. You stirred the collards a bit, adding pepper and a little salt before turning the stove off. You glanced at the clock; 6pm, Alastor should be coming home soon.
After putting everything in pretty dishes and wrapping it in foil you sighed tiredly as you finally got off your feet, plopping down on a couch.
You almost wanted to go back into the kitchen and clean up, but thought to just wait after dinner to do so. 
You perked as your radio made a noise, static as if the channel had changed, before the voice of your husband came through.
”Well folks that is all. I have for you tonight! I hope you enjoyed today’s broadcast and I will see you tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner nonono haha. Until next time!”
You smiled, feeling happy he wasn’t going to stay at the studio all night.
With that in mind, you quickly ran upstairs to freshen up, wanting to greet your husband without the smell of grease clinging to you.
“I’m home!” A voice called as the sound of the front door closing had you rushing downstairs.
Alastor was taking off his coat, when you greeted him “Oh let me take that” you smiled, grabbing his coat to put it away. He let out a relieved sigh as he removed his shoes and put them by the door. Once comfortable, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into a kiss “And how was my beautiful wife today hmm?” He asked bringing a dainty hand to his lips. You giggled “Oh nothing worth mentioning. How was work today? I heard you signing off. I hate that I missed tonight’s broadcast” you mused, untying his bow tie. Alastor hummed “oh you know same ole same ole, through I will say I got a lot of fan mail today” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes. He took a whiff of the air and grinned “Hmm looks like I actually made it in time for dinner”
You both made your way to the kitchen and you immediately went to fix his plate, while he got glasses out of the cabinet and some red wine.
Alastor practically had drool coming out of his mouth as the smell of food wafted into his nose. You took a seat across from him and smiled. “My my my dear what a meal youve prepared tonight!” He commented as he took a bite out of the cornbread, moaning in delight.
It always filled your heart with happiness seeing Alastor eat your food. When you first got married, you didn’t have a clue on how to cook. It was rather embarrassing, but you had grown up with personal cooks.
But Alastor didn’t mind teaching you, and soon enough you were whipping up delicious meals that filled his stomach, rather than upset it.
Dinner was quiet as the two of you enjoyed each others company, Alastor making comments about the lastest gossip he had heard and you catching him on the neighborhood gossip. “Oh before I forget,  Mimzy wants to know if you wanted to swing by the lounge this weekend. Something about I keep you to myself too much” Alastor laughed, swiping at his mouth. You laughed, that sounded like Mimzy. Always hoping to get a chance at you singing on stage so she could make a few extra bucks. “Well tell ‘er not this weekend, I have plans to host a few of the ladies for book club. Rosie is sure to have some gossip I’ve missed.” 
Alastor quirked a brow “You sure dear? I fear Mimzy will chew me a new one if she don’t get to see ou” You mulled it over “Well book club usually don’t take that long and its during tea time so I guess I don’t mind gracing the lounge with my presence” you giggled, getting up and taking your empty dishes to the sink. Alastor followed you and quickly swatted your hands as you reached to turn the sink on. 
“Now now my dear, you spent all evening cooking the least I can do is wash the dishes. The chef shouldn’t cook and clean” he nudged you away from the sink as you pouted.
It never ceased to amazed you that Alastor took on household chores. Most husbands had their wives cook and clean, but not your Alastor.
He didn’t like you to tire out from maintaining the home all day.
You pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and told him you’ll be upstairs getting ready for bed.
You had just finished rolling your hair when Alastor came up to your bedroom. You sighed as you sunk into the cool cotton sheets, finally relaxing for the day. You didn’t realized you had quickly fell asleep until feeling Alastor slide into bed beside you, arm pulling you to tuck you into his side and rest your head on his chest.
You happily cuddled into him, breathing in his scent as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.
A yawn passed your lips as began to fall asleep
”Goodnight” 
”Sleep tight dear”
”Don’t let the bedbugs bite”
”haha see you in the morning light love” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sighed, chest heaving in deep breaths.
Alastor smiled at your sleeping face; how lucky was he to have a sweet wife who worked so hard while he was gone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to your soft snores.
What bliss. He wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOTE: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh why and how did my mind conjure this when I have other things to write eeeeeeehhhh!!!!!!!
Anyway….this is gonna be ANOTHER short story hehehe. Since I wrote it on a whim it might take some time for me to post the next part but I hope y’all enjoy it nevertheless!
Remember to comment on the pinned post as I have a hard time finding everyone to tag since y’all are scattered on different posts!
if i missed anyone my bad!!!!
@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau @monstersealclubber @certifiedcrybabyyy @karolinda007-blog @theveiledlibrarian @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @whydohumansss @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000
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ninibeingdelulu · 3 months
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Lazy kisses ✧
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Plot: Cuddling with your boyfriend .
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An idle Sunday lazed by in sun-dappled tranquility, the midday silence cloaking your shared bedroom in a syrupy warmth.
Not even the hazy tick of the bedside clock intruded upon this blissful pocket of domesticity - save for the occasional breathy sigh escaping your lips as you lost yourself within the pages splayed before you.
Nestled amidst the cozily rumpled sheets lay Leon - your normally unshakable, clear-eyed sentinel anchored steadfastly against the world's roiling tides of nightmarish evil.
Yet within these achingly finite moments behind closed doors, even that stalwart facade softened into pure boyish vulnerability.
Gradually stirring from a deep, much-needed slumber after over a week's deployment, Leon drowsily burrowed tighter against your bare thigh with a mumble muffled by plush bedding.
Still smeared in the dregs of jet lag and weariness plaguing those steely features despite being worlds away from his latest harrowing operation.
Simply sinking deeper within your comforting presence with a reflexive nuzzle sent your chest swelling with boundless affection.
Those habitually hyper-alert gunmetal irises remained obscured beneath a heavy fringe of tawny lashes, angular jawline lax.
Leon Kennedy - the living epitome of unrelenting willpower and heroism borne from steel - reduced to nothing more than an endearingly rumpled mass in slackened repose beside you.
Just one innocuous shift of the mattress was all it took for those gunmetal blues to finally drag open through a squint, fixating upon your doting half-smile with a tender yearning.
The sort which inevitably dissolved every carefully maintained stoicism within their molten depths.
Reaching across the sliver of space between you, Leon toyed idly with a lock of your tousled hair, drifting nearer until your faces hovered a hairsbreadth apart.
Until his baritone burr ghosted over your parted lips like velvet rasping across satin.
"Hey...missed you," that chiseled visage tilted into yours ever-so-slightly, thumb sweeping reverently along your jawline with undisguised longing.
"Kiss me?"
Catching your giggle before it could fully bubble up, you nodded and carefully tucked your novel away.
Because the toweringly heroic, hyper-competent government operative you'd fallen so maddeningly hard for morphed into the gentlest, neediest lover once breaching your oasis's bounds.
Skimming the calloused pad of your thumb across his whiskered jaw, you felt that delicious familiarity thrumming beneath in the tautening of sinewy muscle and tendons as Leon initiated the achingly slow, unhurried collision of your mouths.
Yet with none of the commanding intensity one would expect from such an epitome of masculine fortitude.
Instead, the instant your lips brushed in gossamer friction, Leon melted like warmed honey into your soothing embrace.
Solid contours molding seamlessly against you as that impassioned heat blossomed steadily across your mouths and into hungry, writhing depths.
Sloppy and luxuriantly decadent, your limbs languidly tangling as scorching pants mingled on feverish cusp of perpetual collapse.
Silken muscle glided in achingly deliberate, indulgent strokes of worship. Chasing the maddening bliss only he could lure forth with such practiced reverence.
Wholly cherished and consumed, swathed in the rich cedar and gunpowder musk cloaking your senses, you both spun deliriously in a centrifuge of celestial descent - until rasping breaths and tender caresses ultimately pulled back the hazy veil.
Lids fluttered open in tandem, mere inches between your swollen, reddened lips as molten slate gray bore unguarded into yours.
A barely-perceptible smile ghosted across Leon's finely-hewn features - rare and infinitely more beautiful than any treasures hoarded across the globe.
"Thanks, gorgeous..." he purred, hoarse and thoroughly spent as you traded trembling inhales and exhales.
"Was needing that. Bad."
And with zero preamble, he reclined back into that sweet respite afforded between your cradling arms and heartbeat's lullaby like a contented infant - soaking in the solace and reprieve you alone could grant.
Peering down at your beloved, honed warrior recharging his depleted batteries while you tenderly sifted adoring fingers through his burnished forelocks, you couldn't help but shake your head through another helpless giggle.
Leon Kennedy.
The very man entrusted with safeguarding humanity from incomprehensible evil incarnate.
A deadly, hyper-lethal force to be reckoned with by hell's legions.
Yet in this sanctuary of love and tenderness you shared, he teetered forever on the precipice of simply dissolving into a huge, needy baby within your sheltering arms.
And honestly? You wouldn't have traded this meltingly sweet authenticity for all the universe's wealth and laurels.
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truevedicastrology · 10 months
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Unveiling the Enigma of Mars
🚀Mars, the celestial orchestrator of how you magnetize individuals and the manner in which you resonate. It delves into the intricate essence you exude and the perceptions people harbor about you. This cosmic force also embodies masculine energy, offering insights into the archetype of men you may allure.
🌌Mars in the 1st house unravels your allure externally, where your energy becomes swiftly discernible. You're characterized by responsiveness and a tenacious self-advocacy. Occasionally perceived as impulsive or irate, your sanctuary lies in self-indulgence, physical exertion, and athletic pursuits. The gravitational pull extends to men with athletic prowess or those with a self-centric aesthetic.
🌺Mars in the 2nd house manifests allure through olfactory allure, skin aesthetics, or indulgence in epicurean pleasures. Passion for culinary arts and a penchant for opulence mark your identity. Your charm attracts men of affluence or those generously disposed.
🏖️Mars in the 3rd house articulates allure through eloquence and the written word. Passion resonates in your speech, and the written realm becomes a source of profound joy. A proclivity for literature and related pursuits is evident. The enticement extends to multitasking, loquacious men, possibly educators or wordsmiths.
🏡Mars in the 4th house unveils allure in moments of domestic comfort, adorned in unassuming attire. Emotional energy becomes an irresistible magnet. Mars, discreetly nestled here, shares passion exclusively with intimate circles or family. Attraction extends to nurturing, emotionally expressive men, perhaps with a hint of moodiness.
🎨Mars in the 5th house radiates allure during dynamic activities, invoking attractiveness in motion. Passion is channeled into hobbies, joy, and a perpetual youthful spirit. The magnetic pull is towards confident, charismatic, and playful individuals.
🌈Mars in the 6th house renders allure through physique and an organized, health-conscious lifestyle. The zenith of well-being is achieved through proactive endeavors, organization, and animal companionship. Attraction is directed towards industrious, meticulous men, potentially involved in animal care or fitness training.
🌙Mars in the 7th house allures through aesthetic grace, fastidiousness, and a pursuit of justice. The epitome of well-being lies in harmonious relationships and aesthetic refinement. Attraction extends to men who embody beauty, meticulous grooming, and charm.
🔮Mars in the 8th house projects allure through intimate and sexual charisma, intertwined with an aura of power. Stability and emotional equilibrium define your zenith. This allure thrives in secrecy and spiritual pursuits, attracting individuals exuding intense energy, possessiveness, and depth.
🌐Mars in the 9th house emanates allure through vivacity, intellect, and captivating narratives. The ardor for exploration, diverse cultures, and distant realms is palpable. Attraction aligns with optimistic, adventurous men, including educators, professors, or those hailing from diverse cultures.
🏰Mars in the 10th house showcases allure in the public eye, accentuating tenacity and success. Energy converges into achievements and reputation, possibly bordering on work-centric tendencies. Attraction is drawn towards older, stable, and successful men, echoing qualities reminiscent of paternal figures.
📱Mars in the 11th house unfolds allure in the digital realm, exuding uniqueness that captivates social networks. The energy is invested in friendships, aspirations, and dreams. Attraction encompasses peculiar, distinctive men, thriving either in group dynamics or solitude, immersed in individual pursuits.
💖Mars in the 12th house mystically radiates allure, captivating through an enigmatic aura. Appreciation transcends the physical, delving into the spiritual and ethereal facets. Energy is channeled into artistic expressions, resonating with the profound. Attraction unfolds towards artistic, spiritual, emotionally profound individuals, potentially from coastal regions, with a transcendent connection that transcends verbal communication.
Follow our Facebook page Mage Magic Touch for personal consultations https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61565561190268
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vexic929 · 1 year
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Domestic Prompts
Send a character and a number for a ficlet!
"I love this." "What?" "Us."
"This house looks so different with you here."
"When was the last time we spent an entire day together, just the two of us?"
"The house doesn't matter, you are my home."
"I never want us to forget why we fell in love in the first place."
"What did I do to make you fall in love with me?"
"Happy anniversary!" "It's not-" "It's the one year anniversary of when we moved in together!"
"I made this for you."
"Did you ever think we'd make it this far?"
"What is this?" "A ten year plan!" "It's just pictures of us."
"Every morning I fall in love with you all over again."
"Ah, leftover takeout, the epitome of romance."
"Can we stay in bed for just a little bit longer?"
"Let's get dressed up for dinner tonight." "We just cooked-" "We don't have to go out!"
"I'm sorry I was so grumpy last night."
"The kid(s) are out..."
"We've been so busy lately, I feel like we haven't been home at all."
"Do you remember the first night we spent together in this house?"
"I feel so safe and warm in our cozy little nest."
"I want a kiss from my favorite person." "I don't think you can kiss yourself."
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msboookesh · 2 months
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days to crave - j.ww
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Pairing: idol!wonwoo x gn!reader
Genre: tooth-rotting fluff, bed head wonwoo, established relationship
Synopsis: On a cozy morning with "Going Seventeen" playing in the background, you and Wonwoo revel in playful banter, sweet kisses, and a shared breakfast, finding comfort and joy in each other's company amidst the simple pleasures of life.
a/n: I was deep into a Gose Mafia game binge the other day, and it got me thinking about how ridiculously attractive Wonwoo looks when he's in mafia mode.
୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ🧁
Days like these are the epitome of comfort. Nestled on the couch, cozy socks hugging your feet, a warm cup of coffee cradled in your hands, and the light-hearted chaos of SEVENTEEN’s "Going Seventeen" playing in the background. Your laughter bounces around the room, mingling with the playful banter from the TV.
“Why is it so noisy here?” A deep voice grumbles, growing louder as footsteps approach. Soon, the sound of someone shuffling across the dark carpet reaches you, and then a pair of strong arms envelop you from behind.
“So, this is why you’re laughing so hard.” He whispers into your ear, his breath tickling your skin.
Another burst of laughter escapes you. “Woo, you’re the mafia, aren’t you?”
Wonwoo, with his disheveled bed hair and half-open eyes, chuckles as he nuzzles into your neck. “I’m not. I’m just a citizen.”
“You are the mafia! Why else would you smile like that?” You spin around to face him, your eyes narrowing playfully at his innocent expression.
He squints back at you, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile. “So, if I smile, I’m the mafia? What about the other members?”
“Yes!” You exclaim, rolling your eyes as another fit of laughter bubbles up. “But I know you, Woo.”
Wonwoo leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “And I know you too. You get way too into these games.”
“Can you blame me? Watching you guys play is hilarious.” You look up at him, your eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Is that my coffee?” He asks, eyeing the cup in your hand, clearly eager to change the topic.
“Depends. Do you want some?” You tease, holding the cup just out of reach, though he’s clearly taller and could easily reach it.
“Maybe.” His smirk grows, and before you know it, he’s leaned in and kissed you sweetly.
You melt into the kiss, the warmth of his lips matching the cozy comfort of the morning.
When you break apart, you hand him the cup. “Here, you can have it. But only because I love you.”
“I love you more.” Wonwoo takes a sip, placing the cup on the coffee table with a smirk that makes you curious.
“What’s that smile about?” You ask, your excitement tinged with a hint of nervousness.
Wonwoo groans dramatically, wrapping you in a tight hug before letting his body fall onto yours, causing both of you to tumble onto the carpet. His gym-toned muscles make the fall quite the impact.
“Oh! Woo! You’re heavy!” You laugh, struggling to adjust beneath him.
Wonwoo loosens his embrace, his eyes softening as he looks at your smiling face. “I miss you.”
Your heart swells at his words. It’s been nearly six months since you officially started dating, and moments like these, where he opens up, are precious.
“Of course you do,” you reply, leaning into his embrace. “So, who’s going to get up first and make breakfast?”
“How about we make it together?” Wonwoo suggests, his voice gentle.
“Deal,” you agree, a smile spreading across your face. “But only if you admit you’re a mafia.”
“No spoilers, babe.” He teases, giving you a quick peck on the lips before standing up and offering his hand to help you up.
As you both rise, Wonwoo’s strong grip on your hand feels reassuring. You head to the kitchen, ready for a morning of domestic bliss. You grab the eggs while Wonwoo reaches for a pan, his focused expression endearing.
“You know,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence, “I’m still amazed at how good you’ve become at cooking. I always thought you’d be a ramen-only kind of guy.”
Wonwoo chuckles, turning on the stove. “I used to be, remember? Until someone decided to teach me how to make proper meals.”
You grin at the memory. “And look at you now. A master chef in the making.”
He beams, his eyes sparkling with pride. “All thanks to you.”
As you whisk the eggs, you watch him move around the kitchen with practiced ease. His familiarity with the tasks is comforting. The way he reaches for the spices, checks the heat of the pan—it’s all so domestic, so perfect.
“Do you want cheese in your omelet?” Wonwoo asks, glancing over his shoulder.
“Of course. You know I love cheese.” You reply, handing him the bowl of eggs. He pours them into the pan, the sizzle filling the kitchen with a delightful aroma.
You lean against the counter, your arms wrapped around yourself as you enjoy the view.
“Remember when you tried to make pancakes in your dorm and set off the fire alarm?” You ask, laughing at the memory.
Wonwoo laughs too, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “How could I forget? You just came by to drop off some letters for Shua-hyung from his mom and ended up witnessing a smoke-filled disaster. We had to open all the windows and fan the smoke out with towels.”
“And you begged me not to tell Cheol-oppa.” You shake your head, still amused.
“And he still don’t know about that.” He agrees, expertly flipping the omelet with a flick of his wrist. “Good girl.”
You step closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.”
He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Me neither.”
Soon, breakfast is ready, and you both sit at the small kitchen table, plates in front of you. Over breakfast, you chat about everything and nothing—plans for the day, funny trainee stories, memories from your recent trip.
After breakfast, you find yourselves back on the couch, Wonwoo’s arms securely around you.
You snuggle closer, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he settles into the moment.
“Do you want to watch another episode with me?” You ask, picking up the remote.
“Sure,” he replies, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “But this time, no spoilers. I want to see if you can figure out who the mafia is.”
You laugh, pressing play. “Deal. But I’m betting it’s you again.”
“Let’s see.” he says, a playful glint in his eyes.
As the episode begins, you settle in beside him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. The lazy morning stretches on, filled with laughter, teasing, and the simple joy of being together.
In the quiet moments between the laughter and the TV, you steal glances at Wonwoo, marveling at how lucky you are to have him by your side. Days like these are what you crave, but the truth is, every day with Wonwoo feels just as special. Whether it’s laughing over a game, making breakfast together, or simply enjoying the quiet moments, it’s Wonwoo you will always crave.
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mingoooossii · 5 days
Text
Best Male wife.
Mingyu x reader
Synopsis: just a drabble with baker!Mingyu<33
Warnings: fluff, kisses, reader and gyu share food??(nothing freaky i promise), maybe a bit suggestive towards the end?? Not really(you blink you'll miss it, probably) and baker Mingyu!!
A/n: cooked this up a few hrs before my exam haha... I'm going to fail. But anyways Mingyu best wife fr🤧🤧
Svt masterlist.
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The calm buzz of the coffee machine filled the kitchen as Mingyu, flour-dusted and focused, engrossed in kneading the dough. As he deftly shaped a loaf, he heard a familiar voice.
"Best male wife in the world, huh?" You teased, your voice dripping with amusement. You leaned against the counter, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
Mingyu looked up, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.
The apron, a vibrant pink with the words "Best Male Wife" embroidered in bold, was a gift from you, a joke you bought on a whim. You hadn't expected him to actually wear it, let alone take it seriously. But there he was, the epitome of domestic bliss, happily baking away.
"Don't judge me," he protested, a slight pout appearing on his lips. "It's actually quite comfortable."
He then chuckled, patting his hands, a dusting of flour escaping. "And...i guess you can say I have a reputation to uphold."
You rolled your eyes playfully, your heart melting at his easygoing nature. You leaned against the counter, watching him. "What are you going to bake?"
He turned back to the dough, transferring it to a pot, a smile playing on his lips. "Strawberry shortcake," he replied, his voice playful. "I found a new recipe recently."
"Strawberries..." You trailed off, noticing the bowl of plump, ruby-red strawberries on the counter beside him. Tempting.
Before he could respond, you reached for the bowl, plucking a particularly ripe strawberry and popping it into your mouth, smiling, tasting the sweet, tangy flavor.
Mingyu couldn't resist returning the smile. He moved closer, his gaze fixed on you. "Care to share?" he murmured, his tone soft and inviting.
Before you had a chance to respond, he bent down and bit into the strawberry, his lips lingering against yours for just a heartbeat longer.
Your cheeks flushed a rosy hue as he pulled away, your eyes wide with surprise. He couldn't resist teasing you. "What? You didn't think I'd let you have all the fun, did you?"
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "You're so annoying," you said, playfully swatting at his arm.
Mingyu leaned in again, his lips a breath away from yours, his strong arms pinning you against the counter. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his voice low and husky. "But I'm also very hungry."
You giggled, your heart racing. As he leaned in for another kiss, you closed your eyes, relishing the sweet flavor of strawberries and the even sweeter essence of his affection.
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mochinomnoms · 9 months
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when your good at hiding it but are actually a touch starved eel
This is canon in my heart, actually.
It's so tiring being so formal and scary and polite all the time!!! He can be cute!!! He can want to immediately want to jump into marriage, as a treat!!!
This image is the epitome of Jade in “The Private Thoughts of a Moray” (tbh might just refer to it as Private Thoughts or PTM for ease):
He just wants to live a happy domestic life in the sea with his beloved 🥺 Jade just has to ensure that reality by immediately getting married. Right now. It's fine Azul made a contract and Floyd can be the witness, Grim can officiate if you want!
(He's greatly disappointed when you say it's too early to sign a marriage contract. Placate him with lots of smooches and maybe some one-on-one time at home~)
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phenakistoskope · 9 months
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There is a difference between Bollywood and Bombay cinema?
listen, subcontinental cinema began in bombay; the very first exhibition of the lumieres' cinematographe was held there in 1896, a few months after its debut in paris, 1895. this event predates the discursive existence of bollywood and hollywood. shree pundalik and raja harishchandra, the films that are generally considered the very first subcontinental features were also exhibited there first.
subcontinental cinema under british colonialism was produced in certain metropolitan centers such as lahore, hyderabad, and calcutta; bombay was just one of them. in 1947, when the indian nation state was formally inaugurated, the idea of a "national cinema" began forming, but given the cultural and linguistic heterogeneity of the indian union, this was quite untenable. regional popular cinemas flourished well into the 1950, 60s, 70s, and 80s and various art cinemas began taking shape alongside.
under the economy that i'm going to completely elide as "nehruvian "socialism"" bombay cinema focused on broadly "socialist" themes, think of awara (1951), do beegha zameen (1953), pyaasa (1957), all of which focus on inequality in indian economy and society from different perspectives. these films were peppered in with historical dramas, and adaptations from literature, but the original stories tended towards socialist realism. reformist films centering the family generally waxed poetic on the need to reform the family, but i haven't seen enough of these to really comment on them.
the biggest hit of the 70s, sholay (1975) was about two criminals, posited as heroes fighting gabbar singh who was attacking village folk. deewar (1975) also had two heroes, and the stakes were the two brothers' father's reputation; the father in question was a trade union leader accused of corruption.
"alternative cinema" included mani kaul's uski roti (1969) and Duvidha (1973) both of which were situated away from the city. then there's sayeed mirza and his city films, most of them set in bombay; arvind desai ki ajeeb dastan (1978), albert pinto ko gussa kyun aata hain (1980), saleem langre pe mat ro (1989) which are all extremely socialist films, albert pinto was set in the times of the bombay textiles strike of 1982 and literally quotes marx at one point. my point is that bombay cinema prior to liberalization was varied in its themes and representations, and it wasn't interested in being a "national cinema" very much, it was either interested in maximizing its domestic profits or being high art. note that these are all hindi language films, produced in bombay, or at least using capital from bombay. pyaasa, interestingly enough is set in calcutta, but it was filmed in bombay!
then we come to the 1990s, and i think the ur example of the bollywood film is dilwale dulhania le jayenge (1995) which, in stark contrast to the cinema that preceded it, centered two NRIs, simran and raj, who meet abroad, but epitomize their love in india, and go back to england (america?) as indians with indian culture. this begins a long saga of films originating largely in bombay that target a global audience of both indians and foreigners, in order to export an idea of india to the world. this is crucial for a rapidly neoliberalizing economy, and it coincides with the rise of the hindu right. gradually, urdu recedes from dialogue, the hindi is sankritized and cut with english, the indian family is at the center in a way that's very different for the social reform films of the 50s and 60s. dil chahta hai (2001) happens, where good little indian boys go to indian college, but their careers take them abroad. swadesh (2004) is about shah rukh khan learning that he's needed in india to solve its problems and leaves a job at NASA.
these are incidental, anecdotal illustrations of the differences in narrative for these separate eras of cinema, but let me ground it economically and say that bollywood cinema seeks investments and profits from abroad as well as acclaim and viewership from domestic audiences, in a way that the bombay cinema before it did not, despite the success of shree 420 (1955) in the soviet union; there were outliers, there always have been.
there's also a lot to say about narrative and style in bombay cinema (incredibly diverse) and bollywood cinema (very specific use of hollywood continuity, intercut with musical sequences, also drawn from hollywood). essentially, the histories, political economies, and aesthetics of these cinemas are too differentiated to consider them the same. bombay cinema is further internally differentiated, and that's a different story altogether. look, i could write a monograph on this, but that would take time, so let me add some reading material that will elucidate this without sounding quite as fragmented.
bollywood and globalization: indian popular cinema, nation, and diaspora, rini bhattacharya mehta and rajeshwari v. pandharipande (eds)
ideology of the hindi film: a historical construction, madhav prasad
the 'bollywoodization' of the indian cinema: cultural nationalism in a global arena, ashish rajadhyaksha
the globalization of bollywood: an ethnography of non-elite audiences in india, shakuntala rao
indian film, erik barnouw and s. krishnaswamy (this one's a straight history of subcontinental cinema up to the 60s, nothing to do with bollywood, it's just important because the word bollywood never comes up in it despite the heavy focus on hindi films from bombay, illustrating my point)
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