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sforzesco · 2 years ago

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@cutesilyo's tags: #reblogging this bc i never tried to see the ghosts of ancient rome in ph history before but now i cant get it out of my head#like this specifically fucks me up a bit because#yknow how ph is always seen as like. asian but not too asian? a blend of east and west cultures?#and how we're like that SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE spain always made sure their cultural influence came first over using us for economic gain?#in a complete reversal of how other asian nations — especially other southeast asian nations were colonized?#and how this has translated to the observation that#time and time again our historymakers have resorted to western thought and philosophy for guidance and inspiration?#im just thinking specifically of like. ph revolutionaries who modeled statehood from contemporary liberal politics in western europe#and patterned revolutions and independence from south america#i think thats something that gets forgotten a lot in ph history tbh: that among the spanish colonies we were one of the last#to declare independence and separate from mother spain#and that is 300 years of spanish influence baby. 300 years of european thought at the height of when europe was fighting over#who gets to be the best imperialist and earn themselves tbe weight of the roman empire's legacy#imagine dragging around old blood and crumbled marble in the darkened shadows of a house that isnt even yours#thats how i imagine the weight of rome bears down from spain's shoulders to the philippines.

yes YES!! I think so much about how the Battle of Tirad Pass was compared to Leonidas at Thermopylae and how horrifying it is to valorise what was objectively just a catastrophic failure of leadership and cowardice in Aguinaldo’s part, like, two burials happened there.

the men who were slaughtered, and a second burial that appropriated the language of the classical history and it’s associated glory to cover it up. maybe a third burial of self, because those kinds of comparisons were made to claim for the Philippines the same kind of glory that the Europeans used to justify their violence, and it’s just. sad.

Tirad Pass, like Bataan, is a bad shrine for Filipinos, because there we feel absolved of the faults that lead to such disasters as Tirad and Bataan, or for that matter, Pinaglabanan and Caloocan. […] And because we think heroism can cover up for our botches, we are always very eager indeed to acclaim our defeats as ‘moral victories,’ Tirad was such a 'victory’; Bataan was such a 'victory.’ Ours is a most mysterious progress because we make it on disasters. In shambles will we acclaim our next 'moral victory’?

The wrong thing to do about to do about Tirad is invoke Leonidas and Thermopylae, because we would be invoking to our hurt another people fatally flawed with the inability to unite and organize. Besides, the parallel with Leonidas, king of the Spartans, is neither exact nor flattering: It was not Aguinaldo who fell at Tirad.

[…] But so that Aguinaldo can flee in futile flight, 60 men are sent to pay with their lives for the monstrous botch he has made of the Revolution.

-A Question of Heroes, Nick Joaquin

When you talk about Philippino history and then Roman history, as a Venezuelan it's been making me think about our history and like, I've always thought there's a lot of similarity there but now it's like...its so similar. Your house is haunted too! I always think about how we won wars against the colonizers but their ghosts are still there, and they still sit at the dinner table with us every night. Your work is so cool, I feel like I can extend that train of thought further through time. I've never been interested in Rome but now I kinda am!

Venezuela 🤝the Philippines: being haunted houses (colonized by Spain)

also that is so SO real, the ghosts really are with us!! THEY ARE AT!!! OUR DINNER TABLES!!!!! ngl, once you start noticing it, it's impossible to NOT notice how they've crawled into the spaces and just. stayed.

ancient Rome is so weird for it too, because if you asked me about it, I wouldn't immediately put ancient Rome down for haunting the Philippines, except for the fact that like Catholicism, it's fucking everywhere. it's gotten in the cracks and spaces between the walls. On the stage of theater, Nadres' Hanggang dito na lamang at maraming salamat: the main character is named after Julius Caesar

Closet Queeries, J. Niel C. Garcia

and so many people are named after figures from ancient Rome (I know enough Mark Anthonys I've run out of differentiating nicknames for everyone) that it rivals Catholic saints for naming conventions. neo classical architecture had it's moment in the sun in Manila, our ilustrados brought some of it back when they returned from Spain to call for reform, and then independence, and I am struggling to hold back a plague-infection comparison about that. like, something else crept in with Spain, and like Spain's ghosts, it Did Not Leave.

but on the other hand! there's a long, centuries long, tradition of using the events of the Fall of the Republic to discourse, discuss, to vent or call for action, current events. it provides a interlocutor when something hurts too much to say directly, it provides a stage to explore a tragedy that echoes in our own histories, it gives a script to voice an ideal that a government might otherwise put down. how many centuries have we used Brutus (and Cassius) to rail against Tyranny, and how many centuries with equal enthusiasm have people used Julius Caesar as a martyr to justify the rights of Kings and Empires? these things are equally as important (in a different way) from the ancient events that actually transpired. (this specific topic, of Brutus & the Assassination of Caesar and it's literary revivals in history, are the focus of The Brutus Revival, Manfredi Piccolomini)

and the cores of these things conflict with each other, but in that friction, it's like there's an invitation to sit down and think for a minute. to look back at history and feel it's immediacy in the present.

ANYWAY I got carried away, but I am glad!! that my stuff could make Rome interesting!!! I hope that you find new doors of thoughts to explore!!!!!!!

#hi I loved reading your tags so so so much!! thank you for taking the time to type it all out!!#I’ve been trying to articulate this thought about rome/the classics and it’s relationship to the philippines wrt to Spain’s colonization #and I’m so glad that someone else sees it because I am struggling to find anyone who has written about like.#this spectre that’s everywhere??? the messy relationship between a colonized country and the status that rome holds #on global society in a broad sort of way. it’s like a world wide shorthand for the height of ancient society and civilization #and for what!! it’s corpse keeps haunting us!!#some part of this feels cyclical. it’s like how some Roman’s got obsessed with Alexander the Great and turned him into an ideal #that he objectively was not. and every wannabe imperial empire follow up did that with rome to justify itself #(Catholicism included! I read the divine right discourses using Augustus!) (and rome ofc propagandized itself as an imperial power)#and then a colonized country using it to appropriate/claim some glory for itself even tho it’s a victim TO it. feels like a tragic circle #If this makes any sense hdjghgks #it’s like Burgos asking why he should die even though he was innocent and being told even Jesus Christ was innocent #like. What the fuck!!!! layers of violence in that. LAYERS #it keeps repeating on different stages in Philippine history #long post #ph tag

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honeytonedhottie · 6 months ago

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decentering men and recentering urself⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💅🏽💓

the secret to decentering men and not having ur entire world revolving around them (bcuz it should be revolving around you, duh) is having a fulfilling life. it makes me ICK so bad when im watching a video or reading a post and im rly loving it, and then it'll find SOME way to make it revolve around men. like can we not?…💬🎀

WHY WE CENTER THE OPPOSITE SEX ;

a lot of people find themselves centering their lives around the opposite sex in an attempt to fill a void within themselves. they do it because they aren't happy with themselves or their lives, or maybe its learned behavior. whatever the reason is, its NOT hot.

some things that someone who centers men might think are "oh my life is so boring, maybe it would be spiced up if i got with a man" or "maybe it'll bring some excitement into my day" like EUGHHH. obviously the solution is to find ways to make our lives fulfilling but how do we do that? and how do we get to the root cause and squash this self sabotaging behavior?

SELF AWARENESS ;

if u have nothing going on for u, ofc ur gonna be energetically desperate and accepting anything and EVERYTHING. practice self awareness and try to get to the root cause of why u center men through things like shadow work, therapy, or just straight up having an honest conversation with urself cuz i swear it helps.

when you make the conscious effort to build ur dream life you'll notice that people that are on the same mindset as you will vibe with the REAL you. the need to fake/adjust urself to fit in with other people will dissipate because ur fitting into ur own standards and ur connections will be more meaningful because of it.

TAKE UR POWER BACK ;

no ones actions should ruin ur day or make u upset for more then a day (even less) cuz its YOUR world. 💕🍰

make time for YOU, doll. plan self care routines for urself every week. doing face masks, journalling, vision boarding, WHATEVER U LIKE TO DO. making time for urself reminds u that ur the main character of ur life so u dont have to settle for crumbs.

stop giving that power to someone else and dictate how u feel, NOT the actions of a significant other or the opposite sex or anybody. the reason why its important to make sure that ur the center of ur own life is so that you can be happy and fulfilled regardless of if there is a man or if there isnt a man present. so the objective is to decenter men -> and then put yourself at the center

GET A HOBBY ;

find something to make ur life fulfilling. pursue ur OWN interests and try out different hobbies if ur unsure of what ur interests are yet. cultivate ur world to the point where it GLEAMS with perfection and then do a little extra. build a life that u love so much that whether u get male attention or validation doesnt even matter cuz their opinions have little to no relevance 💀

challenge yourself: next time you catch yourself thinking, ‘would a guy like this?’ flip it and ask urself "hey, do i like this?" start checking with yourself first instead of checking with others.

MAKING THE DECISION TO DECENTER MEN ;

decentering men simply means that ur deciding to no longer think, feel, act, dress, or plan ur life around a man or for the validation of any man…💬🎀

relationships will actually get BETTER when u decenter the opposite sex. cuz ur not looking for someone to compete with and ur whole on ur own. this sets the stage for balance and mutual respect and THATS hot.

you can be in a relationship and still decenter men. decentering men simply means that you are the priority, not the relationship. how can we tell if we're decentering men or not? here are a few questions to help you know if u are ->

if i did not care about looking good to the opposite sex what would i actually like to wear?

if i did not get married, how could i create the best and most abundant life for myself?

what hobbies/interests do i have that dont involve being around men/have male attention as a component of it?

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deonsx · 6 months ago

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Hellooo! I was wondering if u could make a fic or headcanon (its up to u tho!) about seishirou fake dating? I think the reason would be bcs the girls in his school would stop chasin after him or smthing like that? And ofc eventually they like each other. I hope ur doing well! take ur time and have a great day!

Heyaa!! The request box is pretty full these days, I'm moving as fast as I can, have a nice read!!

Fake Dating With Nagi Seishiro

Seishiro is fed up with the constant attention he gets from the girls at school. No matter how politely he turns them down they just won’t stop chasing after him. It is tiring and it is starting to interfere with his focus. Finally he comes up with a plan. He needs a fake girlfriend. Someone who can convincingly pull it off and won’t actually fall for him

That is where you come in. Maybe you are a friend or maybe you are just someone who seems reliable and disinterested in him romantically. One day after class Seishiro corners you with his usual calm and collected demeanor intact “I need your help” he says crossing his arms and leaning casually against the wall “Pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for a while. It will get them off my back”

You blink at him surprised “Why me??” you ask skeptical “Because you are the only one who won’t make this weird” he replies with a faint smirk “And you are also the only one who doesn’t seem interested in all the attention I get” After some hesitation you agree “How hard could it be” you think. A little hand holding here a few staged moments there and it will all be over soon enough

But as the plan unfolds things don’t go quite as planned. Seishiro who is always calm and cool starts to act differently. At first you think it is just part of the act. Like the way he suddenly gets protective when someone teases you or how his smiles feel more genuine when it is just the two of you. But then you realize it is not just an act anymore

And maybe you are not just pretending either

At first, Seishiro would approach the fake relationship like a task. He remains composed and distant, treating the whole situation as a formal arrangement. Holding your hand or placing an arm around your shoulder would feel mechanical, done only when necessary to convince others

However, he takes the role seriously. If someone questions the authenticity of the relationship, Seishiro defends it without hesitation. He might casually say “She’s my girlfriend. Isn’t it obvious?” His confidence leaves no room for doubt, making the act even more convincing

As time passes, Seishiro’s demeanor starts to shift. Initially, every small gesture like walking you to class or standing closer than usual feels calculated. But soon it starts to feel natural. The way he looks at you, lingers a bit too long. The way he laughs at your jokes feels a little too genuine for an act

You on the other hand, are nervous in the beginning. Agreeing to the fake dating arrangement seems simple at first, but being the center of attention feels strange. When someone asks “When did you two start dating?” you might panic stumbling over an answer

Over time though you start questioning your feelings. Is this really just fake? Or have you started to care about Seishiro more than you’re willing to admit?

Together, your interactions change. What began as staged hand-holding turns into moments that feel genuine. A hug in public doesn’t stop as soon as people stop looking. A playful argument about what to eat ends with him smiling in a way that feels far too intimate for a fake boyfriend

Then there’s the jealousy. Even though the relationship is fake, you both start to notice how uncomfortable it feels when someone flirts with the other. It’s subtle at first Seishiro’s narrowed eyes when someone gets too close to you, or the way you feel your chest tighten when another girl compliments him

Eventually, these small moments lead to something bigger. Maybe one night, after a particularly convincing moment in public, you find yourselves alone. Seishiro looks at you, a rare vulnerability in his gaze, and asks “If this is supposed to be fake, why does it feel so real?”

Enjoy!

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greenxgloss · 1 month ago

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In honor of Mona Lisa can we get a jhope fic please Mona Lisa inspired ofc😔👉🏾👈🏾

A/n: so sorry for how long this took but ohhhh my god I loved writing this lmao this was good. it was also lowkey intimidating to write this bc I kinda had to write "mona lisa" as closely as hobi describes her in the song but I think I did a pretty good job lol I hope you loved this!!

Mona Lisa, Yeah I Need Ya (Jhope)

Summary: After a painful breakup, Y/N cautiously reenters the nightlife scene, where an unexpected encounter with the charming Hoseok awakens new desires and challenges her emotional boundaries. Themes: softdom!Hobi, PleasureDom!Hobi, Independent!Reader, Self-Possessed!Reader, Fem recieving oral and fingering, protected sex, alcohol consumption Word Count: 5.2k

It had been a few months since the breakup, and by the second month, you had started to feel like yourself again—steady, clear-headed, no longer unravelling at the sight of old photos or mutual playlists. Still, you decided to lay low a little longer. There was no rush to be social again, no pressure to be seen. You gave yourself the space to rebuild in peace, focusing on self-care, solitude, and the small comforts that often go neglected in the wake of a relationship’s slow erosion.

The breakup itself hadn’t been dramatic—no screaming, no infidelity, no grand exit. If anything, the ending mirrored the relationship itself: quiet, slow-burning, and far too polite. You’d both simply drifted apart, pulled in different directions by work schedules, emotional needs, and that inevitable, unspoken disinterest. He had been distant for months, and though you'd noticed, you had never demanded answers. You didn’t issue ultimatums or stage a last-ditch confession. You were composed. Stoic, even. So when he ended things on a mild spring evening while the sunset painted your apartment in gold and coral, you simply nodded and offered him a drink before he left.

He had been neglectful, true—but mature enough to do the leaving himself. You didn’t mention that part to anyone. Too considerate. Too loyal, even after the fact. It’s a quiet tragedy: how often women swallow the discomfort in favor of appearing unbothered, offering their partner a gentle exit in the name of dignity. “If you don’t love me anymore, just say so.” But that wasn’t the line you fed him. You simply let go.

By the fourth month, the fog had lifted entirely. And when your best friend Gissele texted you an invite to a party at one of the city’s most talked-about clubs, something in you stirred. Not apprehension—readiness. Excitement, even.

There was a dress hanging in your closet you hadn’t worn yet—bought during an impulsive shopping trip when you’d told yourself you would have something to dress up for eventually. It was sleek and unapologetically bold, black silk and structured seams, still crisp with tags. Tonight was the night.

You and Gissele entered the club hand-in-hand, laughter already dancing on your lips as blue and violet lights swept over the crowd. The bassline of the music thrummed in your chest. A kaleidoscope of bodies moved across the floor, sweat-slicked and electric. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this—the ritual of getting dressed up, the chaos of the night, the sense of belonging to your own body again.

“I am so ready,” you said with a grin, glancing at Gissele.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” she teased, dragging you toward the bar. The two of you settled on stools, giggling as you sipped pink Whitney from dewy glasses.

“I’m glad you came,” she added, more serious now, swirling her drink. Her honey-brown eyes shimmered under the strobe lights, and her hot pink lacefront framed her face like a crown. Gissele never did subtle. That’s what made her so magnetic—every movement was intentional, every outfit a declaration.

“I just needed time,” you replied softly, shrugging. “To recalibrate.”

“I get it,” she said. And you believed her.

One of the many reasons you adored her was that she always made you feel safe. She had an eye for detail, a sixth sense for shady behavior, and could destroy a creep’s ego in seconds flat—all without smudging her lipstick. She was your shield, your chaos twin, your anchor.

Tonight, her look was a statement of its own. She wore towering white platform boots that wrapped just under her knees, layered shredded tights in blush and fuchsia, a silky white slip dress, and a structured harness that gave her an edge of danger. She looked like she’d stepped out of a cyberpunk magazine. In contrast, your style was more refined: a black dress with asymmetrical ruffles and heeled boots. Romantic. Reserved. A perfect foil to her explosive palette.

“I swear to god, the men here are insane,” she whispered, eyes scanning the crowd. “Wait—yup. That one’s staring at you.”

You blinked. “Which one?”

But she was already gone, abandoning her stool with a laugh and a wink. “Have fun,” she called over her shoulder, leaving you alone with your drink—and, apparently, under observation.

You didn’t have to wait long.

A few moments later, a hand gently brushed your elbow. You turned, startled, only to meet a pair of warm, expressive eyes and a mouth curved into a smile that was as soft as it was knowing.

“May I buy you a drink?” the man asked, voice velvet-smooth. He slid into the seat beside you—the one Gissele had left vacant—as though it had always been his.

You looked at him—really looked. The subtle shine of sweat on his brow, the warm bronze undertone of his skin, and the twinkle of his grill as he smiled, catching the light like a constellation. Elegant, refined—and yet there was a hint of mischief beneath his charm.

“I’m still working on this,” you said, lifting your half-full pink Whitney and licking the corner of your lip, as if to test his reaction.

A rejection, technically. But not a closed door.

His smirk widened just slightly, like he understood the game. “Fair enough,” he replied, his eyes not leaving yours. The air between you shifted, magnetic. He didn’t press—but he didn’t leave either.

You crossed one leg over the other, sitting up straighter, aware of the way his eyes briefly flicked down and back up. “Your friend seemed eager to disappear.”

“She saw you coming,” you replied, letting a slow smile curl your lips. “Thought she’d give us a moment.”

“Smart woman,” he said, clearly amused.

“I’m Y/N.”

You extended your hand, and instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles—light, gentlemanly, deliberate.

“Hoseok,” he said. “Pleasure.”

You felt your stomach flutter—ridiculous, you told yourself. It’s just the alcohol. But you knew better.

“Is this your usual scene?” you asked, easing into conversation, trying to keep your tone casual despite the way his presence kept pulling your attention like a gravitational force.

“I show up when I feel like dressing up and flirting shamelessly with beautiful women,” he replied without a trace of irony. His gaze locked with yours. “So tonight, yes.”

You laughed. “That a line you use often?”

“No,” he said, “I save it for when it’s true.”

The banter had an easy rhythm, but it was laced with a sincerity you weren’t prepared for. He wasn’t just trying to charm you—he meant what he said. Every compliment had weight, every glance held intention.

And still, there was no pressure. Just presence. Just a man leaning in slightly, his fingers ghosting the rim of his glass as he listened to you speak. You told him about your job, your last girls’ trip, your recent obsession with 90s R&B. He told you about his travels, his work in dance and music, his deep affection for old vinyl records and lavender-scented candles.

The two of you slipped into a corner booth after the second drink. The crowd pulsed on around you, a blur of motion and noise. But the space you occupied felt insulated—separate, private, like a soft secret between the two of you.

He leaned closer.

“You have a way of being still in chaos,” he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent. “It’s... rare. That calm.”

You raised a brow, caught off guard by the poetry in his tone. “You talk like that to all the girls?”

“No,” he said again. “Only when I mean it.”

This time, the blush crept to your ears. Hoseok watched the shift in your expression with barely concealed satisfaction, like a man who knew the power of words and wielded them carefully. He didn’t reach for your thigh. He didn’t try to kiss you. But every movement, every word, made it clear: he was interested. And he was in no hurry. This wasn’t conquest—it was intrigue. And the longer you sat with him, the harder it became to look away.

“Come dance with me,” he said, standing and offering you his hand.

You hesitated only for a second before slipping your fingers into his, letting him guide you onto the floor. The music shifted to something sultry and slow, the kind of rhythm that curled around your limbs and made the space between bodies feel charged.

And when he placed his hands—gentle, respectful—on your hips, guiding you to move with him, you felt the heat settle into your skin.

Maybe it wasn’t the alcohol after all.

The music thrummed low and seductive, a steady rhythm that seemed to sync with the beat of your heart as Hoseok guided you into the tangle of swaying bodies. His grip was light at your waist—two fingers resting just enough to suggest control without taking it. You settled into the tempo, allowing yourself to relax into the motion. He moved close, not too close, but close enough to feel the heat of his body through the thin black silk of your dress.

“You dance like someone who doesn’t come out often,” he murmured, leaning just enough that his breath stirred the strands near your ear.

Your lips curved. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” he said smoothly. “It means I get to watch you rediscover it.”

You turned your head to glance at him, amused and a little intrigued. “And what exactly am I rediscovering?”

His eyes flicked down, just once, before settling back on your face. “What it feels like to be wanted.”

That one hit deeper than you expected. But you didn’t falter. You just tilted your head with a coy, polished smile, like he hadn’t just said something that made your stomach twist with heat.

“Is that what this is?” you asked, voice even. “You wanting me?”

“Undeniably,” he said.

A beat passed. You looked away first, the corners of your mouth twitching upward in unspoken amusement.

He didn’t press. Instead, he shifted closer—so slowly it was imperceptible at first. His chest barely grazed yours now, and his hand had migrated, palm resting against the dip of your spine. He kept the movement subtle, his other hand lifting to brush a stray hair from your cheek, fingertips skimming along the line of your jaw. Polite, still. But loaded.

“So,” he said, voice smooth as honey, “what brings you out tonight? You don’t strike me as someone who comes here for the drinks.”

Your gaze flicked up to his, your brow lifting. “I could say the same to you.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the push and pull. “Touché. But I asked first.”

You paused, just for effect, before answering. “I needed the reminder that I still exist outside my apartment. Outside my routines.”

“A reawakening,” he said, the word drawn out thoughtfully, like he was tasting it.

“Something like that.”

He nodded, hand pressing a little more firmly against your back now. You stepped forward slightly to keep your balance, and he didn’t move back. Your bodies were close enough now that you could feel the bass of the music reverberating between you.

“And the dress?” he asked, eyes sweeping over you again—but not lewdly. Thoughtfully. “Bought for tonight?”

“No,” you replied, tone playful. “It’s been waiting in my closet for months.”

“Ah,” he said, smiling faintly. “Then I feel incredibly lucky.”

You raised a brow. “To see it?”

“To be the reason it came out.”

Your laugh was soft, reluctant. “You’re smooth.”

“I’m honest,” he corrected. “And observant.”

His hand drifted just slightly lower, the heat of his palm lingering now at the curve where your spine met your hips. You felt the warmth climb your neck, but your expression remained neutral—poised.

“You move like someone who doesn’t just dance,” he said. “You move like you know exactly what kind of attention you command.”

Your mouth parted slightly, caught off guard by the comment, but you recovered quickly, tipping your head in mock consideration. “Is that a compliment?”

“It’s a fact,” he said, voice dipping lower, lips brushing dangerously close to your ear now. “And a turn-on.”

This time, the flush threatened to betray you. Your stomach coiled with something sharp and satisfying, and though you didn’t respond immediately, your eyes met his again with that same unreadable smile.

He searched your expression, but you gave him nothing—just subtle amusement and polished restraint. That only seemed to intrigue him more.

“You’re good at this,” you said at last.

“At what?”

“This slow burn thing. Drawing people in.”

“I could say the same to you.”

A silence settled between you—thick, charged. His hand still rested against your lower back, and your arms had looped, almost instinctively, behind his neck. There was no distance left between your bodies. You were moving in sync, slow, deliberate, the music now secondary to the tension blooming between you.

You leaned in slightly, voice low. “I should probably check on my friend.”

Hoseok glanced across the floor, spotting Gissele leaning against a far wall, already deep in conversation with two girls and laughing over something shared on a phone screen.

“She looks... occupied,” he said, then turned back to you. “But if you want to leave, I’ll walk you both out.”

You studied him for a moment. His posture, his ease, the way he never once made you feel boxed in despite the magnetism between you. He didn’t ask for anything—but the possibility hung heavy in the air.

You took a breath. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

There was a pause—brief, electric.

“My hotel’s nearby,” he said, simply. No edge, no pressure. Just suggestion. “If you’d like to keep talking somewhere quieter.”

“Talking,” you echoed with a knowing smile.

His own smile widened. “I did say I was honest.”

You didn’t answer right away. You turned toward the crowd, eyes finding Gissele again. She caught your gaze immediately and raised a brow, already knowing. You mouthed something across the distance—going to head out—and she responded with a wink and a thumbs up before returning to her new entourage.

You turned back to Hoseok.

“Well,” you said, brushing invisible lint from your dress and adjusting the strap on your shoulder. “Lead the way.”

He offered you his hand again—this time not for the dance floor, but for the descent into something far more intimate. You took it without hesitation.

As the two of you exited the club, the air outside wrapped cool around your legs, balancing the heat that still lingered across your skin. Hoseok pressed the hotel’s location into his phone with one hand, the other still cradling yours like it was second nature.

And all the while, you walked beside him, steady, unreadable—but your pulse betrayed you, thrumming in places he hadn’t even touched.

Not yet. Not quite yet.

The elevator ride was quiet at first. Not awkward—just charged. A kind of silence that hung heavy between you both, weighted by everything unsaid but fully understood.

Hoseok leaned back against the elevator wall, one hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other running through his dark hair as his eyes traveled over you again, unapologetically this time. The overhead lighting softened his features, casting delicate shadows across the sharp lines of his face. His bottom lip caught slightly between his teeth before he spoke.

“You know,” he began, voice lower now in the confined space, “I wasn’t expecting much tonight. A few drinks, some polite conversation. Maybe a dance.”

You arched a brow, arms folded loosely, your smile just barely present—soft, knowing.

“But then I saw you,” he continued. “And you were… still.”

Still?

“Everyone else was moving, talking, laughing. But you were just there. Still and deliberate. Like you didn’t have to do anything to be seen.”

He pushed off the wall just slightly, not closing the distance between you, but enough to shift the tension in the air.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply. “But it’s something else. Something about you makes me want more than just tonight.”

You tilted your head slightly, lips pressing into a faint line of amusement, not revealing much. Your posture hadn’t changed—you remained poised, calm, with that same unshakable grace—but the warmth that bloomed in your chest betrayed your exterior.

“I’m not saying I’m expecting anything,” he added, quickly but not nervously. “I mean that. I just want to talk to you. Maybe get to know what it is that makes someone like you walk into a place like that and look like you already own it.”

You glanced sideways at him. “Smooth,” you said, your voice light but your eyes sharp. “Again.”

His grin deepened, dimple flashing. “Told you—I’m honest.”

The elevator chimed, and the doors parted.

Hoseok stepped out first and held the door without needing to look back, like it was muscle memory. You walked past him with that same unbothered elegance, and he fell into step beside you as the two of you moved down the hall toward his room.

Once inside, he didn’t rush. The suite was wide and open, the lights dimmed low and the view of the city glittering through the glass balcony doors. You made your way there without needing an invitation, pushing them open and stepping outside into the night air.

The wind was soft, almost warm, carrying the sounds of distant traffic and nightlife up to the high floor. Hoseok joined you moments later, two glasses of something amber in hand—he offered one to you silently, and you took it without comment.

The silence returned, this time more companionable. The city stretched out before you in every direction, glittering like it existed just for the two of you.

“So,” you said, finally. “What brings you here?”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, sipping from his glass before replying. “Work. Mostly.”

You nodded. “What kind of work?”

He turned to you, leaning one elbow on the railing. “Creative consulting. For artists. A little bit of choreography. A little bit of producing.”

Your brow lifted slightly. “That’s vague.”

He laughed, the sound quiet and unforced. “It is. That’s on purpose. I’m not really supposed to name names.”

You hummed. “Discretion. That’s attractive.”

“And rare,” he said, eyes flicking to yours again. “But I don’t just come here for work. Sometimes it’s a reset. Different city, different pace. New people.”

You sipped. “New distractions.”

“Maybe.” He glanced sideways at you again. “You don’t seem like one.”

You smirked. “No?”

“No. You feel more like a disruption.”

That word hung in the air between you.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you leaned forward slightly, resting your elbows on the railing, letting the wind lift the ends of your hair. The glass in your hand caught a glimmer of moonlight, casting tiny golden flecks onto the concrete floor beneath you.

He watched you. Carefully. And when you looked back at him—slow, deliberate—his gaze didn’t shift away.

You held it.

That’s when the space between you shortened.

He didn’t move all at once. Just a step, and then another. His hand rested lightly on the curve of the railing beside yours, knuckles brushing your wrist.

“I’ve been trying not to stare,” he said, almost under his breath. “But you make it hard.”

Still, your smile didn’t waver. You simply turned your face toward his, eyes locked, unreadable.

The kiss was inevitable.

It didn’t happen in a rush—it happened in the quiet pause between glances. His hand rose to touch your cheek, thumb trailing just beneath your bottom lip, eyes watching the way your mouth parted the slightest bit at the contact. He didn’t ask, didn’t need to. When he leaned in, your lips met in a soft, exploratory kiss—slow at first, like the two of you were testing gravity itself.

When you didn’t pull away, when your fingers found the lapel of his jacket and held him there, he deepened it.

The glass in your hand tilted dangerously. You broke apart just long enough to set it down on the balcony table, then turned back to him with a heat now undeniable in your eyes.

He took your hand, no words this time, and led you back inside.

The room was cool, draped in shadows and city light. He paused at the edge of the bed, his eyes scanning your face once more.

“You’re sure?” he asked, quiet now.

You leaned in, your breath warm against his neck. “If I wasn’t, you’d know.”

That was all the permission he needed.

“I want to take my time with you,” he whispered, voice velvet. “Is that alright?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you let your hands slide beneath his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders in one smooth motion. It hit the floor with a soft thud.

Hoseok’s hands were reverent, moving to the hem of your dress but not lifting it—yet. First, his fingertips traced along the fabric, following the curve of your hips, the line of your thigh. His palms flattened over your sides as he leaned in again, lips brushing just below your ear.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been holding back,” he said, exhaling slowly. “How much I’ve wanted to touch you like this… see how far I can push you before you ask for it.”

You inhaled slowly, your lips parted in the half-light, but your expression stayed controlled—poised, as ever. “I don’t ask.”

And that thrilled him.

He knelt then, lowering himself with grace until he was eye-level with your thighs. Your breath caught—not from nerves, but from the gravity of the gesture. The way he looked up at you, hands now sliding under the hem of your dress, bunching the fabric slowly to your waist, was enough to make your knees threaten betrayal.

He pressed a kiss to your knee. Then higher. Then higher still.

“Sit back,” he said, voice quiet but firm, “and let me make you feel good.”

You obeyed without speaking. Still wordless, still elegant—but when you leaned back onto the bed and rested on your elbows, your eyes stayed locked on his.

The pleasure was slow at first.

His mouth on you was deliberate, exploratory, taking his time with every flick, every suck, every drawn-out breath against your most sensitive skin. His hands pressed down on your thighs—not to hold you still, but to anchor you. To remind you where you were. With him.

You bit your bottom lip, hard. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of the noises building in your throat.

But Hoseok could read the tremble in your thighs, the subtle curve of your back arching slightly more with every languid sweep of his tongue. He didn’t need the moans—you were giving him everything already.

He pulled back just briefly, lips slick, eyes hooded with restrained desire.

“You're doing so well,” he praised, voice rougher now. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

Your lashes fluttered, mouth finally parting with a soft gasp as he moved back in and kept going—more confident now, more focused. One of his hands slid up to hold your waist, feeling the way your stomach tensed and relaxed with every wave of pressure he delivered.

And when you finally let your head fall back and exhaled a soft, trembling moan—he smiled against your skin.

It wasn’t about power, not really. Not domination in the way most understood it.

It was about control—his of himself, and yours of how far you’d let go.

You came undone in his mouth, tension bursting like light behind your eyes. Still elegant, still quiet—but shaken in a way that made your hands reach for his shoulders, grounding yourself as you rode the high out in stunned silence.

Hoseok rose slowly, reverently, kissing the inside of your thigh one last time before pulling you gently up to meet him.

He kissed you again—slow and soft—like he wasn’t trying to erase what just happened, but let it linger.

“Not done with you,” he whispered into your mouth.

Then he stood, reaching back to unbutton his shirt, eyes never leaving yours. “But only if you let me keep going.”

You smiled.

A real one this time. No teasing, no mask.

“Go ahead,” you said, voice soft but steady.

He stepped back just enough to pull the shirt from his shoulders, the faint light catching on the hard lines of his chest and the soft sheen of sweat that had started to gather at his collarbones. Every movement he made was fluid, unhurried, as though undressing in front of you was its own performance—one he wanted you to watch.

And you did. Reclined now against the plush pillows, one leg slightly bent and the other stretched long across the bed, you watched him like art. Quiet, composed, with only the slight tug of your bottom lip between your teeth giving you away.

Hoseok crawled back onto the bed, his hands brushing the sides of your thighs as he moved over you. He leaned in to kiss you again—slower this time, deeper. Like he was memorizing your mouth.

“You taste like my name,” he murmured, lips brushing yours. “And now I want to hear it.”

Your lips curled in a small, knowing smirk. “Then earn it.”

He laughed softly—low, rich, aroused. “Oh, sweetheart…” he exhaled, trailing his mouth along your jaw, “I already am.”

This time, he didn’t rush. He took his time laying you bare—unzipping your dress with care, helping you shift out of it like he was unwrapping silk. His hands explored in unhurried strokes, tracing the dips and curves of your body with open admiration. Every glance he gave you was appreciative, worshipful, but not the least bit cloying. It was honest. Hungry, but controlled.

He kissed your sternum. The curve of your breast. The space just below your navel. His hands pushed your thighs apart gently, and when you let him, you saw the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

He spent the next while reacquainting himself with you—like a second act to the performance before, only this time slower, deeper. His fingers were skilled, precise, coaxing out reactions you tried to smother, and his mouth followed wherever your body arched.

"That's it..." he whispered against your skin, lips brushing your inner thigh. "Just like that. Let go." His fingers gently reach deeper.

You were close again—faster this time. You could feel your composure slip, inch by inch, but not in a way that embarrassed you. It felt safe, wrapped in the cocoon of his body, his words, the sheer focus he gave to your pleasure. “Hoseok.” You nearly whined, surprising yourself.

And when you did come, he didn’t rush you through it. He kissed your trembling thighs as they shook, gently massaging your hips with open palms. His voice stayed low and sweet.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Every sound, every breath—you’re fucking perfect.”

You were still catching your breath when he hovered above you again. The weight of him between your legs felt like gravity—solid, anchoring. He was hard, thick against your thigh, and you could feel the tension in him, the restraint.

He kissed you again—deep, open-mouthed, and a little desperate this time.

You pulled back just enough to look at him.

“Your turn.”

That same smirk from earlier flickered on his lips. “Only if you still want more.”

You nodded slowly, letting your hand trail down between your bodies, fingers brushing over the outline of him through his pants. “I want it.”

Those three words flipped a switch.

In seconds, he was out of the rest of his clothes, and you were guiding him back between your legs. He ripped open a metallic packet and rolled on a condom. He pressed against you gently, pausing at your entrance, watching your eyes.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

You did.

He pushed in slow, filling you inch by inch, and your breath caught in your throat. His hands gripped your hips, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered a near-silent curse.

“Fuck—you feel like you were made for me.”

You smiled, eyes half-lidded. “That’s a line.”

“It’s a truth.” He pulled out almost entirely, then pushed back in, deeper. “And I’ll prove it.”

What followed was nothing rushed. No frenzied thrusts, no hurried movements. Hoseok fucked you like he meant it. Like every slow grind of his hips was a conversation. Like every breathless moan from your lips was a secret he wanted to keep in his mouth forever.

He kept one hand at your waist, another tangled with your fingers, grounding you together. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper, and he groaned into your neck.

“I could lose myself in this,” he breathed. “In you.”

The rhythm built—still slow, still controlled, but more desperate now. Like he was trying not to come too soon, and you were trying not to fall apart again. You kissed, gasped, touched, pressed—until the tension coiled tighter than either of you could stand.

When you came again, this time it was together.

Bodies trembling, breaths mingling, hands gripping tightly like you didn’t want to let go. His forehead rested against yours, eyes closed, his mouth parted in bliss.

The silence afterward was comfortable—thick with heat and something else you didn’t dare name yet. He slowly pulled out, then settled beside you, arm wrapped around your waist as you turned into his chest.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

Just breathing.

Just being.

Then he kissed the top of your head, his voice softer than you’d heard it all night.

“Stay the night?”

You let out a quiet laugh against his chest.

“Didn’t realize I had a choice.”

The sun was barely up when you stumbled through Giselle’s front door, barefoot heels in hand, hair tousled and lips still tingling but still as put together as you could be. She was exactly where you expected her to be—sprawled on the couch in last night’s chaos of pink and white, a satin eye mask crooked on her forehead and a slice of cold pizza hanging limply from her fingers.

She peeled the mask off and blinked at you. “Oh my god,” she groaned, sitting up. “You look like sin.”

You grinned, tossing your shoes down and flopping onto the couch beside her. “You have no idea.”

She gasped. “Y/N—tell me everything. Who was that man? Where did you go? Did he ruin your life or just rearrange it a little?”

You laughed, burying your face into the throw pillow for a moment before lifting your head. “His name’s Hoseok. And...he’s dangerously charming.”

“Dangerous how?”

“Like—he kissed my hand when he introduced himself. Like, who does that?” You paused, smiling to yourself. “He made me feel like the only girl in the room without even trying. And he didn’t rush anything. He...listened. A lot.”

Giselle squinted suspiciously. “Was he hot?”

You let out a short breath. “He was beautiful. Like warm smile, honey voice, perfectly tailored pants beautiful.”

Giselle clutched her chest dramatically. “I’m gonna scream. Did you kiss him?”

“Giselle.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

You gave her a look.

Her mouth dropped open. “YOU DID.”

You laughed again, hands covering your face. “It was… good. Like, really, really good.”

“I’m so proud,” she said, hugging you from the side like she was sending you off to war. “Godspeed, you emotionally available goddess.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, still a little dazed. “It was just one night.”

She grinned. “Yeah. But sometimes, one night’s enough to shake you a little, right?”

You paused, thinking of Hoseok's hands, his words, the way he looked at you like there was no one else worth looking at.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “It really is.”

“You should have given him your number.” she sat up.

“Who says I didn't?”

➽ Kpop Masterlist ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Yoongi Masterlist ➽ G Dragon Masterlist ➽ Buy Me a Coffee

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schemmentigfs · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! can we get a mel x reader fic where the reader makes mel jealous but instead of getting the reaction she wants (extremely hot sex) she actually makes melissa cry (and then soft smut at the end 😔) mel receiving ofc 🧎🏽‍♀️

Breaking Point.

Summary: One trivia night at Ruby’s with the gang sets the stage for your plan to stir Melissa Schemmenti’s jealousy. However, instead of the anticipated reaction, her insecurities surface. Feeling humiliated, she breaks down in tears and you realize that you fucked up.

WC: 5k.

tags: @lifeismomentsyoucannotunderstand @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @kukikatt @dopenightmaretyphoon @schmentisgf @pitstopsapphic @jeridandridge @aliensuperst4rr (@writerspirit) thanks for helping me out with this one. 💛

Warnings: Jealousy, Violence, Apologize Sex, a small reference to Mommy Kink, and a single slap.

Melissa Ann Catarina Schemmenti had always been a woman of fierce temperament, her spirit sharp as the cut of her heels against South Philly pavement, her loyalty as unwavering as the stoop she was raised on. Passion ran through her like good espresso: dark, strong, impossible to ignore. And her jealousy, her jealousy was no quiet, passing shadow.

It’s a know fact that jealousy could manifest in completely different ways in other people, depending on their personality, their history, and even how they handle their emotions. While in her, jealousy was like a sharp blade, discreet and dangerous, in others it could reveal itself in very distinct forms: Some people dealt with it in a more explosive way. The type of jealousy that came loaded with sharp words, said in the heat of the moment, often followed by regretful apologies once the dust settled. It was the jealousy of those who couldn’t contain the storm inside of them, who let it spill over in public arguments, bursts of possessiveness, and thoughtless accusations.

Others, however, were masters in the art of silence. This type of jealousy manifested itself in looks full of resentment, in short and cold responses, in a sudden absence that punished without the need for words. It was a jealousy that wove itself into the routine, creating an almost imperceptible but suffocating distance, leaving the other person wondering where exactly they had gone wrong.

There were also those who turned jealousy into self-punishment. Instead of confronting, they turned inward, questioning their own worth, diminishing themselves in comparison to others. This type of jealousy didn’t translate into anger but into insecurity, into silent doubts, into looks that were diverted and smiles that wilted when noticing their loved one’s attention turned elsewhere.

And, of course, there were those who, even feeling jealous, wore it like a mask of indifference. They smiled, made jokes, pretended not to care – but their eyes said otherwise. A slight tremor at the corner of the mouth, a somewhat forced laugh, a quick subject change to hide the flicker of discomfort.

But when it came to the mean redhead with a bangin’ body, it was different. Her jealousy didn’t explode nor hide. It existed in every detail, subtle and precise, a constant reminder that, in her world, you were something precious. Something worth protecting. Something that, if anyone dared to touch, would find, even unknowingly, the silent beast behind the smile.

You realized this early on in your relationship, now eight years strong, and if you were truly honest with yourself, you’d have to admit: you loved her anyway. It wasn’t childish jealousy, the kind that overflows with insecurity or neediness. No. Hers was something more refined, sharp like the edge of a razor blade, burning beneath the surface like a lit cigarette in the fingers of someone who had tried to quit the habit but still relished the scent of the smoke. It was a fire that sparked in the most mundane moments – a dense shadow in her green eyes when a stranger leaned in too close to talk to you at the bar, an almost imperceptible tightening of muscles when the supermarket cashier called you “sweetie” with a smile that lingered a second too long, a dangerous stillness when Ava Coleman blinked exaggeratedly at you in the Abbott Elementary hallways, calling you “boo” just to watch your girlfriend boil over.

And you remembered that day perfectly.

Monday mornings were already hellish enough. The fluorescent lights in the hallways buzzed faintly overhead, blending with the usual start of the week chaos—teachers swapping exhausted stories about their weekends, students shouting and running like they had never learned what walking was, lockers slamming shut with enough force to shake the walls. You were still nursing your rapidly cooling coffee, trying to shake off the sluggishness of the morning, when it happened.

So fast, your brain lagged behind, struggling to process.

One moment, Ms. Schemmenti was standing next to you, her usual morning scowl in place, one hand lazily wrapped around her untouched coffee. Ava was in front of you, chatting—no, flirting—because that was just the irresponsible principal’s favorite way to start the week.

“You’re looking particularly fine today,” she had mused, dragging out the words like she was testing them. Then, glancing at your girlfriend with a devilish smirk, she added. “If you ever need a break from Vito Corleone over here, you know where to find me, babyboo.”

Big mistake.

The second grade teacher’s coffee hit the floor with a wet splat. And then, before anyone could react, she lunged. Like, fully launched herself at her own boss. It was almost cartoonish how fast it happened. One second, Melissa was beside you. The next, she had both arms locked around Ava’s neck, her entire body weight slamming into the taller woman like some kind of feral redheaded linebacker.

The sassy principal screamed. “Hell no! Schemmenti, what the heck?!”

“Say it. Say it again if you want me to break your neck!”

The entire crew froze almost immediately. Janine let out a horrified gasp. Gregory’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. Jacob turned a shade of white you weren’t sure was healthy. Mr. Johnson, completely unbothered, took a slow sip of his coffee. Barb, standing just a few feet away, had barely turned the corner when her hand flew to her chest. “Sweet Baby Jesus and the grown-up too!”

Meanwhile, Ava flailed like a cartoon character, grabbing desperately at Melissa’s firm wrists. “ARE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO STRANGLE ME?” she screeched.

The redheaded woman’s face was flushed with rage, her green eyes dark with murderous intent. She tightened her grip slightly, voice coming out low and deadly. “Call her ‘boo’ again, Coleman. I dare you.”

You should step in. You should do something. But for a solid five seconds, all you could do was stare feeling a mix of shock, panic, and, God help you, just a tiny bit of admiration.

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEBODY GET THIS DEMON OFF ME!” Ava howled, kicking her tall legs in a completely ineffective attempt to break free.

Jacob finally snapped out of his horror-stricken daze, stumbling forward and grabbing his mother figure around the waist. “You can’t just STRANGLE the principal of the school! She’s our boss!” he wheezed, struggling to pull her back.

Melissa resisted for a moment, like she was genuinely considering finishing the job. But then, with a deep exhale, she let go. Ava stumbled backward, coughing violently, hands flying to her throat as she stared at her coworker like she had just been attacked by a rabid raccoon.

“You need THERAPY, bitch!” the tall woman gasped.

Your girlfriend rolled her shoulders back, straightening her jacket as she took a slow, steady breath. Then, in a voice dangerously calm, she tilted her head and said:

“No. But you will if you keep looking at my girl like that.”

Silence.

The only sound was the distant buzzing of the lights and the faint creak of a classroom door opening somewhere down the hall.

Barbara, still clutching her chest, exhaled heavily. “Lord…”

You, finally remembering how to breathe, swallowed hard and glanced at Jacob, who looked seconds away from a full-body shutdown.

“Oh my God…” you muttered, still half-convinced you had hallucinated the whole thing.

Ava held up her hands in surrender. “I will NEVER call her ‘boo’ again. I swear.”

Melissa, now composed, smirked. “Good.” With that, she grabbed your hand and walked off like absolutely nothing had happened.

And you? You savored every moment. It was a silent game between the two of you, a dance choreographed by the veiled possessiveness that the green-eyed woman refused to verbalize, but that burned in the way her fingers marked your hip, in the way her Philadelphian accent grew rougher when someone got too close.

She would never admit it, never. After all, Melissa Schemmenti was a woman made of steel and concrete, forged in a traditional Catholic Italian family where weakness wasn’t allowed. But you knew that when it came to you, that steel would burn. It would turn into something fierce, something wild. It was a beast protecting its territory from a predator, growling softly, ready for a fight.

It was visible in the stiffening of her shoulders, in the way her pupils dilated, in the way her fingers wrapped around your waist with a possessive strength, pulling you close, as if saying without words: my woman. And when her full lips brushed your ear, her voice low and warm like aged whiskey, she murmured, loaded with a delicious threat.

“You’re trying to make me lose my mind, babydoll? You know what happens when you disrespect Mommy.”

And later, that same night, your girlfriend would kiss you with an uncontrollable hunger, her hands holding your face, her body pressed against yours until there was no space left between you except for your labored breaths and the muffled sound of your sighs and moans. Until your legs gave out. Until you begged for mercy.

So when the karaoke night along with the Q&A arrived at Ruby’s and the group was already drunk enough to dance without caring about the rhythm, you decided to have a little fun.

It wasn’t like Melissa wasn’t already completely focused on you. She always was. Even there, in the bar immersed in amber lights, saturated with the smell of alcohol and grease, she stayed glued to you— her arm resting lazily on your back, her fingers tracing slow, hypnotic circles on your shoulder. But you wanted more. Something hotter. Something rougher.

So, you leaned in, your lips brushing the soft skin of her earlobe. “You better not let us lose, Schemmenti. I want to go home with a winner.”

Your girlfriend smiled, that confident smile that always made your stomach flip.

“Oh, please, babe. I have a lifetime of useless facts up here,” she tapped her temple and winked at you. “We’re going to win.”

The night went on with jokes, teases, and generous sips of drinks. The questions ranged from absurdly difficult topics to answers so easy that Jacob nearly had a nervous breakdown trying to explain how people got them wrong. Ava, surprisingly, was excellent at the game and carried the team round after round, delivering insults with the precision of a surgeon. O’shon was impressed by his girlfriend’s performance but kept shy. Sea Barbara was having the time of her life while Janine and Gregory desperately chased her though the whole bar.

In the third round, Melissa was at the bar with Jacob, both engaged in a heated discussion about Roman emperors. Her former roommate insisted that Nero was the worst, but the second-grade teacher, with her passionate tone and expressive hands, delivered a fiery monologue about how Caligula was, without a doubt, the worst creature to ever walk the Earth.

“Nero was the worst, hands down,” the social studies teacher argued, his hands flailing for emphasis. “He burned down Rome, Mel! He literally played the lyre while watching the city go up in flames.”

Your girlfriend scoffed, leaning forward, her eyes ablaze with passion. “Oh, come on, dude! Nero was bad, but Caligula? That man was an unhinged lunatic. He made his horse a senator.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but—”

“Don’t interrupt me! I’m just getting started,” she warned, pointing a finger at him. “This man executed people on a whim. Held orgies so disturbing that even the Romans thought it was too much. And let’s not forget the time he declared war on the damn ocean.”

Her work son blinked. “War on the ocean?”

“Yes! The man ordered his soldiers to attack the sea and then collect seashells as spoils of war!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “What kind of lunatic does that?”

Jacob snorted, shaking his head. “I still think Nero was worse.”

Melissa huffed, grabbed a peanut from the bowl on the table, and chucked it at him. “You’re an idiot, Hill.”

“You’re just stubborn.”

Narrowing her olive eyes, the redhead lifted her hand and flipped him off. “Fuck you.”

He gasped in mock offense before bursting into laughter. Without warning, the older woman grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight, crushing hug.

“Love you, even though you are a fuckin’ dumbass,” she muttered against his shoulder.

Jacob chuckled, hugging her back. “Love you too, ‘Elissa. But Nero was still worse.”

Melissa pulled back just enough to glare at him before smacking the back of his head after hearing the nickname.

“OUCH! What was that for? I feel like a teenager who was grounded by his mother.”

“You’re lucky I’m drunk, or this argument would last until tomorrow.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Mr. Johnson, with his relaxed posture and sly smile, was trying to bribe the host.

“Listen here, kid. If I give you twenty, do you think you can bump up our score?” he gestured to his team.

The poor college student, clearly tired of the night, rolled his eyes. “Sir, this is trivia, not blackjack. Please respect the rules.”

After the final trivia question, Jacob was practically glowing, his enthusiasm spilling over like a tipped glass, nearly knocking over his drink every time he got an answer right. Beside him, Gregory and Janine were lost in their usual slow-burn headass dynamic, whispering heatedly, orbiting each other like stars destined to collide.

The last round ended, and music poured through the speakers—loud, rhythmic, impossible to ignore. Ava clapped her hands with a flourish, tugging her smiling boyfriend by the jacket. “Alright, losers, time to shake ass.”

Your girlfriend let out a snort full of irony. “Oh, no. Not happening. I won’t dance tonight, A.”

Barbara raised an amused brow, her smile full of quiet mischief. She wasn’t surprised with her best friend’s familiar stubbornness. “Come on, girlfriend, don’t be a party popper. Even Gregory's going.”

The first grade teacher, already halfway to the dance floor thanks to Janine’s persistent tugging, spun around like a man trying to escape fate. “I never said I was going.” But his girlfriend pulled him in anyway, laughing as he stumbled after her.

Jacob squealed with glee, singing out loud.“You say you wanna win it. I wanna see you sweat, put your whole kitty in it.”

And suddenly, the table was empty. Just you and Melissa remained, you turned to her, lips pouted in exaggerated pleading.“C’mon, baby. Dance with me.”

She shook her head slowly, firmly. “You know I don’t do that.”

“Fine,” you sighed. Then, with a sly smile curling at the corners of your mouth. “I’ll just find someone else to dance with.”

Her redbrow lifted, sharp as a challenge. “Yeah?”

That’s how you ended up leaning on the bar, body tilted with practiced ease, casting flirtatious glances at the very attractive bartender. She looked about your age, maybe younger. Short hair, styled with flair, and one arm inked from shoulder to wrist in a tapestry of tattoos.

You twirled a strand of hair around your finger and gave her a knowing smile.

“So, what’s your best drink?”

The bartender smiled back, slowly looking you up and down. “For you? Something really sweet, I think.”

You laughed—really laughed—and rested your hand on the bar, giving her a wink.

But something changed. The air thickened, charged with tension. You felt her before you saw her. That presence. Familiar. Possessive. Magnetic.

Melissa Schemmenti’s hand landed on your hip, firm, warm, grounding.

“We’re leaving,” her tone was low, a growl made of gravel and storm. “Screw this stupid night.”

Your stomach flipped in anticipation. Yes. That was the reaction you’d wanted. She would get pissed off and fuck you later. You turned, fully expecting the heat in her green eyes—the fire that told you you’d pay for this later.

But what you saw wasn’t fire. It was ruin.

Melissa looked shattered. You didn’t get the words out. She yanked you away from the bar, out into the night, where cold air bit at your skin.

And then, she erupted.

“What the fuck was that?!” your girlfriend shouted under the weight of emotion. Her face flushed, streaked with silent tears.

“Baby, I just...”

Smack. The slap was light. Reflexive. Born of frustration more than anger. But your eyes widened anyway.

Melissa never hit you. Not even during sex.

She recoiled immediately, hand flying to her mouth, as if to muffle the sound that still echoed between you. “I’m not some fuckin’ animal for you to play with.”

“Lis?”

She looked away, trembling.

“You don’t want me anymore, do you?"

And then you understood. She wasn’t angry. She was scared. You reached for the older woman, but she pulled back like your touch would shatter her.

“Jesus… I’m fifty. What am I even doing with you? I should’ve known… I should’ve known.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Mel, what are you talking about?”

She swallowed hard, a sob catching in her throat.“Joe used to do that to me, you know?”

You gulped.

Melissa never talked about her ex-husband.

“He’d flirt with other women right in front of me. Just to remind me he could. And when I got upset, he’d make me feel crazy. Like I was pathetic for thinking I could ever keep him.”

Nausea rose in your throat, bitter and sharp.

Her lips trembled with memories too heavy to hold. “I thought you loved me.”

Those words broke you. “I do. I love you so much.”

She didn’t answer back, instead she closed her eyes and asked. “Can we just go home?”

The ride home was silent. Melissa sat curled against the door, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring out the window like she wanted to be anywhere but here. By the time you pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, she was already out of the car, heading straight inside without a word.

You followed, feeling your stomach twist as you stepped into the house.

She was in the kitchen, standing by the counter, her back to you. Her arms were still wrapped around herself, fingers gripping at her sleeves, like she was trying to hold herself together.

You took a slow, cautious step forward and sighed heavily. “Honey.”

Your girlfriend didn’t look at you. Just let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?”

Finally, she turned, and the look on her face shattered you. “This. Us.”

A sharp, horrible fear lodged in your throat.

“Lissa, please.”

“I love you.” The words were rushed, raw. “I love you so much it scares the shit outta me. And I—” She swallowed hard. “I can’t go through that bullshit again. I won’t.”

The second grade teacher was trembling now, holding herself so tightly it looked like she might break apart.

And you couldn’t let her think like this—not for another second.

You surged forward, wrapping your arms around her, pressing her tight against your chest. She resisted for half a second before melting into you, her whole body sagging.

“You won’t,” you whispered into her hair. “I swear to god, you won’t.”

Melissa let out a ragged breath, her arms still locked around herself even as she pressed her face against your shoulder.

“I was stupid,” you murmured, stroking her back, voice thick with guilt. “I thought I was just messing around, but I hurt you, and I hate myself for it.” You cupped the back of her head, tilting her face up just enough to meet her eyes. “You’re my everything, Mel. No one else. Just you.”

Her plump lips trembled.

“I love you,” you sobbed. “I love you so much.”

Something in her cracked then, her breath shuddering as she let go of herself and finally grabbed onto you.

And then she was kissing you.

Desperate, messy, all shaky hands and tear-stained cheeks. She kissed you like she needed proof that you were still here, that you weren’t going anywhere. You kissed her back just as fiercely, one hand on her cheek, the other gripping her waist, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world—because Melissa Schemmenti was.

The redhead let out a shaky tiny noise against your lips, and you pulled back just enough to whisper, “Let me make it up to you.”

She swallowed, her forehead resting against yours, her breath still uneven. “H-How?”

You ran your hands slowly down her sides, soft and reverent, looking her straight in the eyes. “By showing you exactly how much I want you.”

A flicker of something passed through her eyes—uncertainty, vulnerability—but then her grip on your shirt tightened, and she nodded.

“Okay.”

And you kissed her again, slow and deep, determined to make her feel everything she had doubted tonight.

After a few more promises and kisses, Melissa led you upstairs, her grip on your hand tight, like she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

As you guided her toward your shared bedroom, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on her milky skin. Every step she took was hesitant, but you could see the hunger and need flickering behind her green eyes, along with the insecurity she’d shown you earlier.

When you reached the bed, your girlfriend hesitated, her fingers twitching at the hem of her shirt. Her cheeks were already flushed, a obvious combination of arousal and nervousness. You knew this side of her. The part that fought against vulnerability, the part that still struggled to believe she could be adored so thoroughly after decades of being humiliated by her ex-husband.

“C’mere,” you coaxed.

She breathed through her nose, then finally pulled the fabric over her head, dropping it to the floor as she laid down on the bed. Your breath caught as you took her in—her full, round breasts rising and falling with every uneven breath, her pink nipples already hardened in anticipation. She was beautiful. She was yours

But as soon as the cool air hit her hourglass figure, her arms reflexively crossed over her chest, shielding herself. “Y-you don’t have to do this,” she stuttered.

You stepped closer, gently brushing her arms aside. “None of that. Let me love you,” you reply, meeting her eyes, making sure she saw nothing but adoration in your gaze. You started slow, pressing kisses to her shoulders, trailing down the slope of her collarbone. The tension in her muscles eased little by little as you continued, your lips moving lower until they reached the soft swell of her breast.

Melissa let out a shaky breath, her fingers gripping the white sheets behind her.

The moment your mouth closed around one of her sensitive nipples, she gasped, her back arching instinctively. You sucked lightly at first, teasing, circling your tongue around the stiff peak. The way her breath hitched sent a rush of heat through you, and you did it again, this time flicking your tongue against the sensitive bud before wrapping your lips around it completely.

“Jesus H. Christ,” she groaned. Her fingers found their way into your hair, tangling there as if grounding herself.

You hummed against her skin, feeling the way she shivered in response. Your other hand moved to her neglected breast, cupping its warmth, your thumb brushing over her nipple in slow, deliberate strokes. Melissa’s hips shifted restlessly, and you could feel the heat radiating from her, the growing need that she was barely keeping at bay.

Her swollen lip was caught between her teeth as she tried to suppress the noises spilling from her throat, but it was useless. When you sucked harder, she let out a choked moan, her grip on you tightening.

“Fuck,” the older woman whispered, the curse slipping from her lips like a prayer. “Just like that…”

“Yeah? Does my pretty girl like this?” you asked before switching to her other breast, making sure to give it the same attention, sucking and licking until your girlfriend was writhing beneath you. She cursed again, raspier now, more desperate.

“God, honey,” Melissa groaned, her green eyes fluttering open just enough to look at you. The sight of you—your mouth on her, your hands worshiping every inch of her—made her chest rise and fall even quicker. “You are so good.”

She placed her hand over yours where it cupped her breast, silently urging you to squeeze harder, to give her more. You obeyed, kneading the soft flesh in your palm, rolling her nipple between your fingers while your tongue worked the other. Melissa threw her head back, her breath catching in her throat as pleasure coursed through her.

“Shit,” she panted, her thighs clenching together. “You’re gonna—” her words broke off into another moan as you sucked particularly hard.

You could feel her body trembling, could hear the way her voice wavered between curses and needy gasps. She was unraveling under you, and you weren’t about to stop now.

As you continued, your free hand trailed down her stomach, inching closer to where you knew she needed you most. Melissa’s breath hitched again, her entire body tensing in anticipation. She was already wet—you could tell just by the way she squirmed, by the way her hips kept shifting toward you.

You released her nipple with a soft, teasing kiss, then glanced up at her, meeting her darkened gaze. Her lips were swollen from how hard she’d been biting them, her pupils blown wide with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your fingers slipping lower.

The green eyed woman shuddered at your words, her hands gripping your shoulders now. “You’re fuckin’ unreal,” she breathed, as your mouth traveled lower, brushing over her soft belly. “I need you.”

You didn’t make her wait.

Melissa reclines further on a now rumpled white duvet, her skin aglow under the gentle caress of a bedside lamp. Her gaze meet yours as if silently inviting you to explore every inch of her. Though her sultry allure is undeniable, there’s an obvious shyness in the way she quivers, a subtle reminder that beneath the polished exterior, she is as human and tender as anyone could be.

You step forward, drawn inexorably to her magnetic presence. As you kneel between her spread legs, you become acutely aware of every detail—the way her heart flutters in the quiet moments before passion takes over, the delicate rise and fall of her chest, the soft hum of her breath that mingles with the ambient sound of a distant rain. It is in this space, at the precipice between fantasy and reality, that you begin to trace your own exploration of her body.

Your eyes travel slowly over her form, and you can’t help but admire the intricate interplay of contrasts. Her red pubic hair, neatly trimmed and soft to the touch, frames her most intimate parts with an unexpected elegance. With a sense of reverence and delight, you gently guide your nose along the tender patch, inhaling the uniquely intoxicating scent of her skin mixed with the subtle hints of shampoo and the lingering aroma of passion. The sensation is both curious and deeply erotic, a melding of senses that intensifies your connection.

Melissa moans, a tentative sound that gradually builds into a crescendo of pleasure. Though her voice trembles with shyness, every note carries a resonance of desire, hinting at an inner fire that is waiting to be fully ignited. Encouraged by her reaction, you lean in further, your warm breath mingling with her soft, arched exhale. Your hand caresses her thigh, slowly working its way upward, tracing patterns along her smooth meat flesh as if mapping out a treasure. The contact sends ripples of delight through her.

“That’s it, baby,” she pants. “Give it to me. Just fucking eat me out.”

Obeying, you lower your head, your tongue seeking out the very heart of her pussy. The moment your tongue makes contact, the bedroom seems to fill with the heady scent of her arousal. You begin with gentle flicks, tasting her essence, savoring the salt and the sweet tang that is uniquely hers.

Melissa parts her lips. “Yes… yes, please.”

As you work, your nose remains in contact with that enticing patch of trimmed red hair—a tactile reminder of the natural beauty that frames her most intimate self. The juxtaposition of the soft fuzz against your skin, the lingering warmth of your breath on her flesh, creates a symphony of sensations that both of you share. Her hands grip the sheets in silent encouragement, her body arching ever so slightly as if to offer you more, to signal that she is ready to surrender to this shared passion.

Your girlfriend’s whimpering grows louder, a combination of pleasure and the bittersweet vulnerability of someone who has long guarded her deepest desires. In the gentle rhythm of your attentions, you hear the subtle cadence of her voice, a melody that rises and falls with every wave of sensation. Even in her shyness, there is an undeniable strength; every gasp and every sigh is a testament to the courage it takes to expose oneself so completely.

You notice how her eyes close tighter, her lashes brushing her flushed cheeks as if trying to capture every sensation. The contrast between her shyness and the bold passion of her moans creates an alluring paradox, one that only deepens your resolve to explore every hidden corner of her.

The warmth of your body pressed against hers, the intertwining of your breaths, all contribute to a growing intimacy that transcends the physical act. It’s as if every touch, every caress, is a silent conversation—a dialogue that speaks of trust, longing, and the exquisite pleasure of being seen and understood in your most vulnerable state. And in that quiet exchange, you find a beauty that is both raw and transformative.

Your flat tongue dances along her contours, tight walls, varying its pace and pressure in an attempt to coax every moan and every shudder from her. The taste of her juice is intoxicating—a heady blend that speaks of secrets, dreams, and the deeply personal nature of desire. Every now and then, you pause, allowing the anticipation to build, savoring the silence that hangs heavy with unspoken apologies. In those pauses, you can almost hear the language of her hourglass shape, the subtle signals that tell you exactly how far to push, where to slow down, and when to simply be.

Her moans soon evolve into words, breathless confessions of pleasure that escape her mouth between shudders.

“Oh…” she gasps, a single syllable laden with meaning, a delicate sound that sends fresh waves of warmth surging through you. It is in these moment that you realize the power of your actions—not just in the physical pleasure you are bestowing, but in the way you are helping her to embrace every facet of her own self.

As the older woman gets closer and closer, you become increasingly attuned to the subtle shifts in her rhythm. Her breathing deepens, her body trembles with each passing second, and you know that the boundary between anticipation and fulfillment is drawing ever closer.

“Mmm,” you groan. “My good girl tastes so sweet.”

Her breath stutters, heat blooming low in her stomach all over again.

The feeling is that you are both artists and muses, engaged in a performance that is as much about emotion as it is about physical sensation. The interplay of your hands, your tongues, and your hearts creates a tableau of raw, unfiltered desire—one that is both fleeting and timeless.

Minutes stretch into what feels like an eternity of ecstasy. Melissa’s whines become a constant, a beautiful chorus that underscores the symphony unfolding between you. The sound of her raspy breathing, sometimes tentative, sometimes urgent, is a living reminder of the beauty found in vulnerability—a vulnerability that, in this sacred space, has been met with nothing but tenderness and reverence.

Your own senses are alight with the acting of giving, each detail etched into your memory. The texture of her beneath you, the taste of her mingling with the aroma of her natural essence, and the sound of her enjoying everything form a tapestry of sensations that you will carry with you long after the night has ended.

She cums with a final, shuddering gasp, a sweet symphony of release that echoes softly through the neighborhood. In that exquisite instant, the tension that had been building for so long gives way to a profound sense of relief and connection. It is as if every whispered sigh and every gentle moan had been leading to this singular, transcendent moment.

Her fingers, still trembling from the aftershocks, reach for you with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. The redheaded pulls you up gently, guiding you until you’re resting against her, your bare and clothed chests warm beneath the quiet hush of the bedroom. Her orbs meet yours—stormy green softened with something that looks like awe, or maybe love—and then her lips are on yours.

It isn’t hurried. It isn’t wild. It’s a kiss full of gratitude, affection, apology. Her thumb brushes your cheek as she pulls back just enough to whisper. “I’m sorry, baby. For reacting like that.”

You can only nod, your heart too full for words. Whatever had weighed on you both before this—whatever doubts or distance—feels far away now, melted in the heat of her touch and the certainty in her voice.

She smiles then, that rare, open smile that makes her look years younger, freer. And before you can even respond, her arms wrap around you, pulling you close until you're buried in her embrace, safe and steady. The kind of hug that says home.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x y/n #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #anon sorry for taking so long to post this 🥺#but i hope you like it #💛#wlw

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inumakis-boo · 1 year ago

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May I have some dating Toge Inumaki headcanons? Both sfw and NSFW... If you're comfortable.

TOGE INUMAKI ♫₊˚.🎧 ✧💬

headcanons 𓍢ִ˖ hello and thank you for the requests! i am current rediting all of my posts, so if this looks a little different than when you first saw it, thats the reason why!

anyways, i hope all of you enjoy! and if course, NSFW will be tagged and is written for a female perspective.

safe for work headcanons

- would probably not notice each other the first time you meet, maybe an interested glance but it doesn't really hit until the second or third time that he really sees you

- probably asks for your number just so yall can talk better, and once you do, its an instant connection. he literally wouldnt be able to stop, staying up all night to text you

- texts you out of the blue, and although probably feels embarrassed to double text, he is just that interested in you

- would totally deliever a bag of goodies he bought at the store for you, and additionally maybe offer to make you a lunch to try before he makes it for everyone else

- you comment on one of his t-shirts he wears and he puts it in one of the goodie bags he buys you, doused in his cologne because he wants you to think of him

- would totally send annoying memes and tiktoks and bully you over text, also play 8-ball COMPETITIVELY cause he aint gonna lose to you (he doesnt even pity lose to you)

- shows up unannounced just to kiss you in the door frame of your dorm room as a goodnight and then leaves you there

- that is until you invite him over to your dorm at night and he brings post-it notes and teaches you his semi-bilingual language for easier understanding, and utterly loves you for it

- the talking stage would be him just pining over you cosntantly, writing it all down in journals or in his notes app

- after yall started dating, it is very much a no public affection mostly because he doesnt want anybody to be in your business. especially with his noisy ass friends

- but no matter what, he is going to hold your hand, especially when going on dates and walking around campus at night (would definitely talk u into sneaking out)

- he would be hesistant to kiss you even after yall became offical, probably go a few weeks before you just say it straight that you want him to kiss you and you dont even get it all out before hea pinning you to a door and giving you the best kiss of your life

- would absolutely use his speech on you so you cannot resist it when he tickles you or when you are beating him in a game

- he is not the sappiest guy, but if you start to get sappy over a movie or a sad book, he will rub your back and give you head-kisses to help you feel better

below is not safe for work content. mdni.

not safe for work headcanons

- you find out very quickly into the relationship that he cannot resist a challenge of any kind. therefore, using that to your advantage always works out

- challenging him through text to sneak out of his dorm will work, but ofc he wants a prize at the end (you are on your knees for the next hour)

- the benefit of his speech is that you don't feel any fatigue whatsoever during its use, so that makes it really easy to make your body endure while you deep-throat him over and over.

- it doesn't diminish the pleasure though; being told to stay still while he fondles your chest takes away nothing from the experience, and he knows how much you like having no choice.

- not that even if it was tiring, you wouldn't let him throat-fuck you, the noises he makes are heavenly for someone who can't speak straight, the struggle of watching him grip the bedframe and biting his lips so he doesn't utterly ruin you is SO worth a bruised throat.

- he might be nervous to use his speech on you the first time, but after you make sure that you can handle it, its becomes so much more confident in using it

- he loves making out with you, he loves making your lips red with all the biting, he wants to see them glossy and wet right before he puts his fingers in your mouth (you know where they are going next)

- sexting is so fun, yall thought it might be cringy, but its literally the best when he calls you with a command and he gets to listen to you whimper and moan as he jerks off to it, can be totally unexpected

- "Ride me."

- hand on your thigh when nobody can see, and his pinky is awfully close to your panties that it makes you nervous.

- ofc he can easily make you cum, but will he always let you? not without a cute little 'please' hes not. begging is fun, isnt it?

- lets be honest, the dick game is so good he don't even have to tell you to go to sleep after

- ofc he would definitely lay it down on you exactly how he described through text, and then clean you with special wipes he bought from the store because he aint a dickhead, duh.

I have so many more, especially for different situations, so lmk if you want more! Thank u for all the support as of recently!

bye pookies!

#sorry i love him ur honor #jujutsu kaisen #inumaki toge headcanons #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki smau #inumaki smut #inumaki headcanons #jujustsu kaisen x reader #inumaki toge #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk #jjk inumaki #jjk megumi #jujutsu itadori #jujutsu megumi #fushiguro megumi

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moonastro · 1 year ago

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Juno persona chart

fama (408) asteroid in the houses

what is a juno persona chart? looking into juno persona chart gives more detailed insight of how the relationship and marriage overall of you and your spouse will be like. it also describes them in a sense as well. The Greek Goddess Juno is described to rule over love and marriage and hence why the asteroid is looked into for that theme.

the asteroid fama (408) represent how an individual may find success and fame hence the name. in the juno persona chart, the asteroid fama will indicate how the marriage will bring the individual themes of fame in such as attention, success or recognition.

reminder: this is my interpretation from observations and first hand experiences, so don't take this to heart.

fama in 1st house: couple may find success and attention from how they express their way, how they approach things and the way that they look ofc. mostly lenient towards the appearance of the couple, depending of the sign of the first house it may play out a bit differently, for example sagittarius may receive attention of how foreign they appear to be together either if its cultural or not.

other things related: arguments, conflict, independence, fast- paced, self-worth, self- made, strength, body, actions, face, facial features, beauty, cars, vehicles, head, scars, battles, defence, scars, burns, opinions.

fama in 2nd house: the couple may get recognition from their generosity to other people. from their voices so for example speaking up about matters going on in the world. may be recognised by the things they own to express their financial value.

other things related: patience, stubbornness, food, cooking, eating, singing, expressive voice, tone of voice, possessions, items owned, shopping, money earned, luxury items.

fama in 3rd house: it may start as a rumour and this placement gets attention from rumours that people make about them, I'm not even kidding this is the placement that is known from others talking about them, true or not.

other things related: communication, internet, social media, high school, high school friends, friends, siblings, neighbourhood, cars, early education, writing, publishing, books, articles, gossip, newsletter, news.

fama in 4th house: couple may get recognition and attention from having a big family. it may not be big but it may also make your family stand out that other people notice. couple may get attention from their heritage and from their homeland, they may also find success if they have a family member who is well known and so the couple may be known from that.

other things related: mother, house, land owned, land received, ancestors, caring nature, being empathetic, emotions, being vulnerable, crying, being upset, having a mental breakdown.

fama in 5th house: couple may get recognition quite easily. may find success in doing hobbies together or hanging out in entertainments events or industries such as dance, music, art, movies and acting.

other things related: laughter, hobbies, kids, romance, s*x life, cheating, flings, partying, clubbing, being wasteful, being dramatic, being loud, talent, stage, public, audience, speech.

fama in 6th house: literally getting noticed from having a busy schedule. others may speculate on maybe the couple having no free time and always on the move. also may get recognised by other people criticising them for example, if in scorpio criticising the couple on how private they are, cancer criticising the couple on how emotionally vulnerable they are and so forth.

other things related: pets, routine, hard work, being critical, being obsessive, being organised, being too strict, labour, ill- health, accidents, bruising, fighting.

fama in 7th house: couple may receive attention from the contracts that they hold, also from their relationship as a couple in general may cause attention. the enemies that the couple may have can give them attention. also the way the couple deal with things can raise awareness.

other things related: law broken, beauty, taste, relationships, enemies, other peoples opinions, other peoples doings, other people being involved, marriage, love, interests, fashion, clothing, make-up, skin care, vlogs.

fama in 8th house: marriage may find success when discussing taboo topics or not being afraid to transform into new versions of themselves whether it be changing habits or changing lifestyles-look at sign for more detail.

other things related: abusiveness, clubbing, spirituality, death, s*xual acts, being obsessive and possessive, tax, money received from other people, money earned, people giving money.

fama in 9th house: the marriage and the couple may get attention by their broad mind lifestyle. this includes all of the themes that may related to religion, spirituality, culture and education. may get attention from their education, like the degrees that they may have, a blog about teaching etc.

other things related: travel, higher education, spirituality, meditation, working on oneself, time of reflection, learning, cultures, languages, expressions, going off from one extreme to the next, in-laws.

fama in 10th house: the couple in the marriage may get recognised from their careers. they may be in a stable, hard working environment or perhaps they spend too much of their time focused on their career. this can also be an indication of the couple working together in the same industry or even having the same job.

other things related: career, money, age, time, public, job, coldness, high rank, being closed off, keeping to oneself, what other people see, rules, strictness, schedule, father.

fama in 11th house: couple may find attention and success in events where there is a gather of people. themes of hosting or even attending may cause the couple to find attention. being unconventional such as kissing in public or things like that can raise attention. not following the norm of society can also give the couple attention.

other things related: groups, social groups, uniqueness, friends, older siblings, internet, social status, recognition, technology, unconventional, breaking rules, not caring, being emotionless, being detached.

fama in 12th house: the couple may get recognition from their ability to be intuitive and empathetic for others. couple may find success in travels, assisting others in their spiritual journey, seeing the beaty in everything. couple may get rewarded for being imaginative and doing the impossible.

other things related: travel, overseas, holiday, hospital, bedroom, sleep, dreams, drugs, alcohol, addiction, mental health, abuse, isolation, being extreme, foreign environments.

this was a short post but its pretty interesting nonetheless but thank you for reading and have a nice dayy.

#juno persona chart #fama #fama asteroid #astro notes #astro observations #astrology observations #asteroid astrology #astro community #astro placements #astrology #astrology community #kpop astrology

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secondhandsorrows · 1 year ago

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Some Vital Scenes to Include in a Romantic Subplot, pt. 1

I’ve been in the plotting stages of a novel I’ve been working on for some time now. It’s not a romance novel, per se, but the romantic aspect is very prevalent… dare I say important. Anyway, so as I was working on my scenes and character arcs, I began to realize that I didn’t have enough fleshed-out about romantic arc, nor deepened the protagonist’s love interest or their connection, for that matter. This led me to devise up some scenes that I felt were crucial to the story if I wanted to keep this romantic angle to it, and now that I’ve most of them arranged, I find now that I’m way more excited about my characters’ love story.

These tips will be unnumbered because, obviously, the sequence of these events and how they will fall into your storyline will probably be different. Also, you don’t have to use only one scene for every suggestion that will be mentioned, as you can have multiple scenes of flirtations or deep conversations, for example. They usually blend all together into the narrative at this point. Just remember that there should be some relevance to the plot at hand in some of these scenes as to not derail completely from the main narrative or other conflicts.

I was going to post this all at once, but decided it was too long and wanted to split it into two parts to go more in-depth and for easy reading. /-\ Enjoy ~

- The meet-cute, or the meet-ugly:

Ah, yes, the first encounter. Or, as we sometimes like to call it: the meet-cute, or the meet-ugly if you’re feeling a little unconventional or perhaps mischievous. Though we may enjoy setting up our star-crossed characters in a whole range of moments from awkward to swoon-worthy, the initial meeting is what’s important (if your characters haven't already met before the beginning of the story, ofc, but this is useful to have in mind). Let us quickly define the two:

Meet-Cute: A charming and serendipitous first encounter between the characters in question that sets a positive, memorable, and oftentimes romantic tone.

Meet-Ugly: An unconventional, awkward, or disastrous initial meeting that adds a unique twist to the start of the romantic connection, often leading to unexpected chemistry and an added intrigue on whether or not they’ll get together.

You don’t have to nail your characters’ first encounter into a label or bubble such as these two examples, but I like bringing these up for a general idea.

- Bouts of flirting and/or banter:

Just as the title suggests, these are scenes containing the flirtaious communication between the two characters. These kinds of interactions will, of course, develop over time and deepen the bond or relationship. Playful interactions, gazes, and witty exchanges between the characters can create a lighthearted and flirtatious atmosphere that hints at their growing attraction.

The way they might flirt or tease can reveal their personalities. For example, one character might be more sarcastic, while the other responds with quick wit, or quiet bashfulness. There’s an element of subtlety, as flirting lets the characters express their romantic interest without explicitly stating it (unless one of your characters lacks subtlety in general and prefers to shout their undying love from the rooftops, which would make for an interesting dynamic, but I’m only spit-balling).

Banter, teasing, and romantic tension underscoring heated debates or loathsome gazes suit just as nicely, especially if you’re writing with enemies-to-lovers or rivalry tropes in mind. But be careful! A little goes a long way: too much all at once can repel any growth for the characters or narrative.

- Initial conflict or struggle:

Depending on your story’s big-picture conflict, the introduction of challenges or obstacles can create tension between the characters, adding depth to their relationship and making their eventual connection all the more satisfying. This might include cultural or class differences, opposing goals or values, history of past heartbreak, personality weaknesses such as stubbornness, or external pressures that threaten to keep the characters apart. Even a nosy family or a disapproving mother can be considered. How the characters navigate and resolve these conflicts contributes significantly to the overall emotional impact of the romance subplot, as well as allowing for some exploration of each character's strengths, weaknesses, and resilience.

- Shared vulnerability:

This kind of scene involves the characters opening up to each other about their innermost fears, insecurities, past trauma, or personal struggles. Shared vulnerability goes beyond surface-level interactions. It involves characters revealing their authentic selves, exposing their emotional vulnerabilities, and allowing the other person to see them in an honest — and sometimes new — light.

This is a symbolic gesture of commitment we’re talking about, here… something that requires trust. As characters share their fears or past traumas, they are entrusting the other person with sensitive information, fostering a sense of trust and emotional intimacy. It might be scary, it could be out from left field, but they will end up learning something new about themselves, their situation, or about the other person, and thus deepen their connection, little by little.

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ljjsims · 1 year ago

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Greek Goddess Legacy Challenge: Generation #1: Gaia, Complete sheets

I present to you, the woman who started it all: Gaia! Or, as we know her now, Mother Earth. Enjoy this challenge :)

You are new to this world you have just moved to. A world that, to you, is the most beautiful yet. Nature all around you. A perfect place for a fresh start. You are so excited to meet all the people around you, find love, start a family! You want it all! Soon you meet your neighbors Ouranos, Pontus and Aitna. You soon become best friends with both Aitna and Pontus. And that Ouranos, He has something, doesn’t he? He makes you feel like he would steal all the stars in the sky just for you.

Little bit explanation with the sheets: - First sheet is for describing your current generation, with the challenges you need to do each life-stage. Also, because I love the myths, a bit of mythological background. May it inspire you :) - Second sheet is the preparation sheet for this generation, with important characters for your story. It is technically optional, but I love seeing sims with a backstory in my world, so I would highly recommend it. - Third sheet is for your gens children. They all have their own little challenges if your interested in those. I try to make all of them a bit different from each other, so it doesn't get boring. Your heir is also on this sheet, but I've put their challenges on their own sheets. Stay tuned for those ;) - Fourth sheet is completely optional. If you want sims with names from the myths and love making sims to see them in your world, this is for you! All with a little mythological background ofc, you know me.

Finished Gaia's Challenge? The next generation is Aphrodite! If you want to try her childhood challenges as well, look up her page once she is born :

The Greek Goddesses Challenge by LJJ-Sims is a challenge based on the ancient mythical creatures and stories from Greece. I fell in love with Greek mythology in high school and have not let that love go since. In this challenge you will follow 10 deities in their journey through life. Every goddess has a different take on and goal in life. Special about this challenge? All your kids have little challenges of their own, not only your heir. These challenges are optional, so if you feel like these are too much or just too restricting for you: by all means let them go. I also have sheets for characters that you can make before you start each generation. This gives your challenge a lot more personality and makes it frankly easier and more fun!

A little disclaimer: because I made these gods and goddesses into a legacy challenge, the relationships in the myths don’t exactly match the relationship in this challenge. There is a lot of keep it in the family in mythology, to put it lightly. And apart from the fact that you can’t do that in the Sims, I don’t really like that part. So I didn’t include it, thus the inconsistency. An example: Ares is now Hera’s stepfather instead of her son, which she conceived with her brother and husband Zeus. This inconsistency can also be found in the stories. It’s just based on and not copied exactly, as Sims live lives that are a lot shorter than those of immortal gods. And it takes a way from the creativity if we just copy the myths. Even if we wanted to do that, it’s quite hard, as every myths has its fair share of variations and some are just completely different stories.

I use the MCCC-mod to alter the length of life states. You can find the days-years ratio here: the boring stuff.

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pseudophan · 3 months ago

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Your 100% correct fart answer makes me think about what it would be like if they had only met today

man... the thing about trying to picture what dan and phil's relationship would be like if they met 15 years after they did is we really don't have any point of reference. i know i said with great certainty they would wait longer to fart in front of each other than they did back in the day (deeply unserious addition to an otherwise kinda sweet post here i'm sorry), but while i do think that's probably true just based on their age, we have no actual way of even remotely accurately speculating what things would be like if they met in 2025 because a dan and phil who haven't been deeply intertwined with each other for a decade and a half just... isn't dan and phil. they were so young when they met, and said meeting changed and formed their lives in nearly every way imaginable. there is just no way their personalities and general behaviour would be similar enough without all of that for us to picture what their early stages would be like in current day. i'm not saying they would be fundamentally different people obviously, but most of the aspects and quirks of their relationship that we admire, and that's made it last this long, come from years of working on it together, growing and learning alongside one another. ofc they'd probably have picked up some of these (non-specific to them) things along the way from other relationships, but although i don't actually believe in soulmates or anything like that, and i realise this is of course partly just the crazzzzy phannie in me, i do struggle to see either of them achieving anywhere near this level of connection with someone else. ok i've been interrupted like ten times writing this and i fear i lost the plot a long time ago lmao sorry, this probably doesn't make a lot of sense. i just... something something if dan and phil first met today those versions of them would be far enough removed from the ones we know that trying to picture how the relationship would go is near futile.

i suppose this is basically the premise of a fuckton of fics out there, and i think about this any time i read an au where they meet later in life, because authors tend to take very different approaches to their characterisation and you can definitely tell who's taken this into consideration and who hasn't. not that i think it's a bad thing to write dnp exactly as they are today even if their circumstances are different, it's fanfic you can do what you want and sometimes you do just want to read about the people you like exactly how you like them regardless of the story they're in, but i loooove when i can tell certain personality changes in a story are directly influenced by the fact that they weren't in each other's lives up until that point, it's so interesting to me

speaking of fanfic i guess, it's clear with dinok and other things dan has said that he's thought about all of this too, and god i would love to hear more about his opinions on it beyond just his sexuality and career, but i suppose that might be a bit too personal lol

#answered

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lizdive · 11 months ago

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Heyy :3 I saw your Lynette! Reader and I'm love with it 🥰 Can I also request some version for Welt, Gallagher, Argenti? Ofc platonic all they wayy [I love ur work 🫶🫶🫶]

Yes you can nonnie 🫡🩷 thank you so much for your sweet words MWAH MWAH 🫶🫶 thank you for requesting !! if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo it <33 ALSO !! NOT CLICKBAIT I GOT TWO POSTS OUT TODAY AND THE CROWD WENT HOME 💯‼️ *Comically gets tomatoes thrown at me* /j

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" used to refer to reader ,, reader is a teenager ,, reader is based off of "lynette" from the game genshin impact ,, platonic relationships ,, mentions of being sold, close to being 'used', creepy old men, and other things relating to lynette’s past ,, mentions of various other characters in various parts ,, platonic relationships ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ Much like Dan Heng, WELT did not expect you to fully trust anyone on the express quickly, which was why he tried to make himself seem as welcoming as possible even though he very much is welcoming on his own.

⭑ He was patient with you and respected your boundaries, and when you’d give him your wacky replies he’d just nod his head and leave you alone. He never pushed you to do stuff with any of the members and was overall pretty chill.

⭑ His comforting and welcoming vibes alone helped you trust him easier than the other members of the express, and soon enough Welt found himself walking around with you trailing behind him like a duckling. If he was sitting in the parlor cart, you were next to him practicing or showing him your card tricks. If he was in his room, you were probably there just in the corner doing your thing.

⭑ Tea time anytime anywhere. WELT will always have the time to enjoy tea and snacks with you whenever you’d like! If you make your treats yourself, he’ll help you make them, too. It’s nice bonding time. He’ll also learn a thing or two about tea making from you as it seems that you take the art very very seriously.

⭑ He’s not a swordsman by any means but he’s seen many different fighting styles in his time so he’ll give you some tips on how to improve. He’d still prefer for someone else to properly mentor you and by someone else I mean Dan Heng as he’s the closest one to a swordsman on the express.

⭑ Like some others in the first part, he’ll keep something sweet with him in his pocket so if you’re ever craving something sweet or feeling hungry in general he’ll be able to hand you the sweet treat easily. Feels bad whenever he doesn’t have anything on hand, especially when there aren’t any stores nearby.

⭑ He can do the talking for you if you want him to. He’ll calmly tell others that you aren’t comfortable with conversations and that he’ll be doing the talking for you during interactions. If they don’t cooperate then he’ll just,, leave with you. He needn’t waste both of your times with someone who cannot respect boundaries.

⭑ Not surprised by your feline features as he’s seen many things in his time, but if you lean more into the feline mannerisms he’ll give you extra head-pats and ear scratches and may buy you cat toya if you want them. Makes sure you take care of your nails too!! Doesn’t want you hurting yourself.

⭑ He doesn’t mind participating in your performances. He,,,, he has experience on stage,,,, ahaha,,,, WELT can entertain a crowd! Doesn’t like the tricks that involve the both of you getting a bit messy thought like the water container, but he’ll indulge you in any other tricks! He also doesn’t mind watching your performances! He’ll smile and clap after every trick, praising your skill and what you do. He’s very supportive and would be honored if you teach him how you do what you do.

⭑ If you ever open up to him about your past, he’ll be there for you as he pats your head and rubs your back soothingly, telling you to take your time and that he’s so proud of you for getting through that and having the courage to tell him all of this.

⭑ Like Veritas, I don’t think WELT do anything to the man should he still be alive. He’ll help you forget him if you’re bothered by the memories and help you heal should you be repressing emotions. He’ll teach you how to accept and will make sure by the end of your journey you’ll be the best self you can be. He’s already so proud of you.

⭑ You both are like old people with technology and both learn as you go. A member of the express teaches WELT something, he’s quick to message or tell you about it and vice versa.

"Humans are complicated creatures. Even when they are not doing so intentionally, they will still unconsciously hide their true selves. Though I can always notice a few 'redundant' details, I won't expose their facades when it isn't necessary."

"That’s… very nice of you?"

⭑ You were a performer at the bar, many of the patron and visitors flocking to the bar just to watch your amazing performances. GALLAGHER couldn’t deny that you were a talented kid, and he also quite enjoyed your performances.

⭑ You were young, so it’s not surprise some people did try to get you to work for them instead in hopes of exploiting you. GALLAGHER would always step in if they were being too insistent and sometimes even kick them up, however most of the time they left you alone due to your eccentric replies. They always made him snicker in amusement secretly.

⭑ GALLAGHER will make you drinks as you work and fix up small snacks if there’s anything available. Because of you he’s become a bit of a tea-making expert. Every time you take a break or finish a performance he’ll have a nice cup of tea set up for you in the staff room at the back. He awaits your feedback.

⭑ When you invite him to joins you in your tea breaks? He’s either tossing the bar to Siobhan or another employee, and if there’s non then uhm,,, yeah he can’t join you but he’ll make it up to you! And if you help him with drink making he’ll cry a bit internally. You’re such a good kid,,,

⭑ Not only are you both a good duo in the bar, but you both are a good duo in officer work. He’s is a bit intimidated with your swordsmanship, but he also admires your quick and clean cuts. You become his unofficial official assistant sometimes when it comes to snatching up criminals and it’s actually kind of fun.

⭑ You suck at technology, he’s decent at it, he doesn’t mind. If you want to improve he’ll help you out but if you don’t he’ll supervise you whenever you’re using anything relating to technology so that you don’t burn the bar down or something. Is it possible to get hurt in the dreamscape? I can’t remember. But still, he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

⭑ Calls you 'kitty' jokingly but if you get upset he’ll drop it. Also, only he’s allowed to call you that. Nobody else. He feels that if others do it then it’s mocking you — even if they mean well he just doesn’t like it so only he can do it.

⭑ He’ll help you practice but I don’t think he’d perform insane acts with you. Maybe the more simplistic ones or ones that don’t require him doing really complex things. He just doesn’t want to mess up and ruin your acts. If you want him to do a dramatic announcement for you before you go on stage, he’ll do so happily.

⭑ The moment you open up to GALLAGHER trust that he’ll make sure you’re much more guarded and kept safe. He’ll also be much more observant of the patrons and visitors and nobody will be offering you work offers. He’ll ask you during your break times if anyone tried to do anything to you, and if so, to give him as many details as you possibly can. No need to ask why — he’ll deal with them.

⭑ Should the man that you were sold to dare be alive and enter the bar, GALLAGHER will have him out of there before you even catch a glimpse of him. He’ll also make sure that man is out of the dreamscape. Man, Sleepie has been needing a new toy as of recent!

⭑ Does the talking for you but at the same time not many people will be talking to you anyways after your performances because you’re having your tea break and so he’ll tell anyone that wants to interact with you that you’re unavailable for the rest of the time.

"If you explain a magic trick, then the allure of the performance is lost. Personal relationships are the same. If you want to understand me, why not learn a bit at a time, and gradually piece together a complete picture?"

"I like how you think, kid. Don’t change your mindset ever, got it?"

⭑ A new feline-featured performer holding a show in a planet nearby? Oh how delightful! ARGENTI’s getting a ticket to your show the second they’re available! He’s always loved performances and shows as they show how skilled others are and are always so beautiful.

⭑ He absolutely loved your performance and even wanted to thank you personally for the lovely time! And so after the lights were back on and all guests left, he made his way outside in search of you with an appreciative rose in hand which he expected he’d be able to give to you.

⭑However, what ARGENTI didn’t expect was for you to give him the wackiest response ever. He blinked, handed you the rose, and then continued to converse with you. He’s like Sunday but oblivious — there is no winning with him he can talk for hours.

⭑ It’s a huge yapper / listener situation. You travel a lot for performances and he travels a lot in search of Idrila, so you can’t escape him because he has the excuse to follow you around. Well, he does protect you even if it’s not needed due to your swordsmanship, but it’s convenient so you guess it’s fine.

⭑ ARGENTI also does all the talking for you which is a nice and huge bonus. Sometimes he does it without even realizing and nobody is able to make him shut up. It’s a big win win for the both of you and he never brings it up out of concern because you don’t seem bothered by it.

⭑ Finds your feline features beautiful and would love to help you groom your ears and tail if you’d let him !! He’s be very gentle as he brushes out the loose furs and if you like head pats / ear scratches he’ll sneak them in while he grooms your ears. He’s somehow so good at it for being a first timer (or so he claims.)

⭑ Very present in your performances and will always be there to support you and cheer you on, handing you a rose as a congratulations for the successful show. If you perform for him alone during your free-time, he’ll clap with a big smile and tell you how wonderful that was and how you’re improving so much.

⭑ ARGENTI is probably the best performance partner out of everyone because he puts in so much emotion with the tricks and acts he pulls. Also, he doesn’t mind being in front of a large crowd and he manages to captivate their attentions so that’s a bonus. You’re deadpan and he’s very emotional. A good duo.

⭑ If you open up to him, ARGENTI will be appalled. Not at you — never ever you — but at that disgusting man who dared to even think about using you. He’ll promise you that he’ll make sure nothing like that ever happens again and then he’ll ask if there’s anything he can do to make you feel better. Would you like a specially prepared fish dish? Some sweets? Tea?

⭑ Speaking of tea, he loves tea time with you! It’s a nice time for the two of you to bond and relax from life, enjoying the flavors of the teas that would vary each time you prepared some. If you teach him how you make your teas he’ll be over the moon.

⭑ I don’t think ARGENTI is bad with tech, he’s probably pretty good, so he’ll help you figure out how to not bust everything that contains some sort of tech or machinery. If you break things he won’t be upset or anything — he’s a pretty patient person. He’ll care more about you and if you’re injured.

⭑ Spars with you and constantly praises your agility and clean cuts. You both share tips and tricks for tending to your weapons and fighting in general, too. ARGENTI won’t be too rough on you but he will put up a challenge — he genuinely wants you to improve!

"Building a relationship with someone is like gambling. No matter how much information you have, it's hard to predict how other people might change. I've always had the habit of keeping a safe distance from others, but in your case... I'm willing to shoulder the risk of losing a bet."

"I promise you, you will not regret this gamble nor will you lose."

#🪽 ☆ LIZDIVE #ᡣ𐭩 — robin’s stars !!#ᡣ𐭩 — robin’s writing !!#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #platonic relationships #Welt hsr #welt honkai star rail #welt x reader #gallagher hsr #gallagher honkai star rail #gallagher x reader #argenti hsr #argenti honkai star rail #argenti x reader

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