#Nature-Inspired Chemistry

[superchemistryclasses]

Nature Chemistry vs. Synthetic Science: Harnessing the Power of Both Worlds

The realms of nature chemistry and synthetic science have long fascinated scientists, innovators, and thinkers alike. While nature chemistry draws inspiration from the intricate processes of the natural world, synthetic science thrives on human creativity and ingenuity. Together, these fields hold the key to solving some of humanity’s most pressing challenges. This article explores the unique…

[o2studies]

༻`` 6 May 24 — Monday 32/60

🧡 academia >> I studied chemistry for 1 hrs 10 and physics for 10 mins. The chemistry past paper I did I got 77% on! I'm very happy with that and will look to really improve it this week. Should have studied more, especially for physics (I've got an exam tomorrow) but oh well, plus I'm sleepy rn

🧡 physical health >> I walked one of my dogs (really didn't need the stuggle of them both today)

🧡 self care >> I drank 4 glasses of water, stayed bored rather than on my phone (my screen time is still ridiculously high tho), I read a bit and journalled. I will neglect brushing my teeth tonight tho

☀️ 8.30 (no alarm) 🌙 22.30

Overall, a good day :) And the walk was so nice!! I'm changing my favourite season again to be summer. All the greenery and flowers, nevermind are so pretty I could look at them forever, but nature truly does wonders for mental health. I also picked a few flowers to try a propagate (one of which was forget-me-nots!!)

[sysig]

I love you thiiiiiiiiiiis much! (Patreon)

[wingsofdeadbutterfly]

Getting back to chemistry.

It's raining for the whole day with no end. Everything is so lush and green. The raindrops on the grass sparkle like little diamond. The sound of rain outside the window invokes a certain kind of peace .

[apollos-boyfriend]

i’m kind of a stickler for keeping the characters at their original ages but. i’m breaking it for jack. that kid is like 16 max, but because he’s so unnaturally tall and suffers from a Heavy case of eldest daughter syndrome everyone assumes he’s at least 19. he doesn’t remember anything from before the ritual so he can’t even correct them due to not knowing himself

[ninisdollie]

diet pepsi - nishimura riki 𓈒ིུ ❤︎

✧˚⋆ ˖ ࣪ .

"In which reader films a hot, sexy music video with the world’s favorite supermodel, but the tension between them is so palpable that it ends up exploding"

content: +18MDNI fem! reader x ni-ki, popstar x supermodel, usage of both riki and ni-ki, drinking (wine), sexual tension, explicit sex, oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, riding, unprotected sex.

i love addison rae and i love diet pepsi so this was slightly inspired by it.

hate comments will be deleted and blocked, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! <3

There was something about the air of a freshly built set, the warm lights already buzzing overhead, and the distant rustle of crew members preparing for chaos, that made your heart race every single time.

You stepped onto the soundstage in platform heels and a silk robe, a Diet Pepsi can in hand (prop or not, you actually liked the taste). The soft curve of a smile found your lips as you took in the glossy tiled floor, the velvet chaise, the retro signs glowing like neon halos. The whole set screamed glamour. Over-the-top. Effortlessly iconic.

Very you.

At your age, you were pop music’s favorite contradiction. Sweet as sugar off-stage, barefoot in studios, always bringing snacks to rehearsals, thanking every crew member like it was second nature. But the moment a camera turned on, something inside you clicked. Your voice dropped, your stare sharpened, and your body moved like it was fluent in seduction.

Soft. Wildhearted. But when it was go time? You locked in.

That’s how you made it here, headlining your own tour, pulling millions of views in a matter of hours, and now, filming the summer's most anticipated music video.

And it was exactly how you pictured it.

Every shot, every frame, it started in your head. You’d pitched the concept to your label yourself. You wanted soft-focus lights and a sultry track that felt like summer sweat and silk sheets. You wanted that old-Hollywood-meets-modern-muse vibe. You even storyboarded scenes on your iPad at 3 a.m, manicured fingers swiping through reference photos and aesthetic inspo like your life depended on it.

Because in some ways, it did.

This wasn’t just another video. This was you, your vision, your control, your era. You fought for this.

What you didn’t fight for was Riki Nishimura.

That part was your manager’s idea. “Trust me,” he’d said. “The chemistry will be insane. He’s got the look. The mystery. The fanbase.”

You knew who Riki was before the meeting even ended. Everyone did. He was fashion’s crown jewel, elusive, unreadable, and unfairly beautiful. The kind of guy who didn’t chase cameras; they chased him. Long, tall body, not so muscular but somehow ripped, gorgeous face decorated with moles, plump, thick lips that glistened in every shot, and a perfect, almost jaw dropping smile.

You hadn’t worked with him before. But you’d seen him. On runways, in perfume ads, in magazine spreads where his gaze practically peeled skin. He had that thing, the kind that couldn’t be taught.

Still, when they told you he’d agreed to do the video, your first thought wasn’t excitement.

It was wariness.

Because something about him felt dangerous. Not in the way guys tried to be dangerous, loud, flashy, fake, but in the quiet way. The way that creeps under your skin and settles there. The kind of danger you don’t notice until it’s too late and he’s already in your bloodstream.

You handed off your empty can and settled into the glam chair, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror.

Eyes sharp. Lips glossy. Pulse steady… enough.

✧˚⋆ ˖ ࣪ .

Riki arrived on set like he always did, silent, sharp, unbothered.

He didn’t need to announce himself. People just knew when he entered a room. Maybe it was the height, or the face, or the way he moved like time bent around him. Smooth, slow, unrushed, like he was already in the center of the frame.

The stylists barely looked up as he passed by, just nodded, eyes wide, like they were seeing a deity in the flesh. He was used to that by now. The stares, the whispering, the cameras pretending not to follow his every breath.

Riki Nishimura wasn’t born a model, but the world acted like it.

He started when he was fifteen, walked for a niche Tokyo brand no one cared about, except someone did. Someone important. The next season, he was in Paris. By seventeen, he was on the cover of GQ. By eighteen, he had his pick of luxury campaigns. Runway, editorial, billboards. He became the face of mystery. The body of fantasy.

Now he was unstoppable, but he was ambitious, he wanted to reach peak iconography.

So when they first called him, asking for him to do a music video, he hesitated at first. That was something he'd never done before.

Then he heard your name.

Y/N.

The popstar with the velvet voice and the lightning eyes. The girl who wore glitter like armor and moved like she was born to ruin people. He’d seen you before, on award show stages, in commercials, in paparazzi clips where you laughed with your whole chest like you didn’t care who was watching.

You were different. Not because you were pretty, they were all pretty. But because you meant it.

Every look, every note, every time you walked into a room like you owned it and yet somehow still made people feel welcome. He respected that, maybe even admired it. He was a full believer of work ethics and safe environments in an industry where he started so young.

So he said yes.

Now, as he stepped onto set, he saw you before you saw him.

Sitting in the glam chair, head tilted back, lips parted slightly as someone lined them with gloss. A robe slipping off one shoulder. That same energy curling around you like perfume, soft, sweet, dangerous.

He didn’t react.

Didn’t let the flicker of heat show on his face. But inside?

He felt it. That flicker of something he couldn’t control.

✧˚⋆ ˖ ࣪ .

A chrome convertible gleamed under heavy rig lights, surrounded by buzzing PAs, cables curling across the floor like snakes, a faint haze from the fog machine made the air feel thick, almost humid.

You tugged down the hem of your barely-there silk dress, heels clicking against the concrete, your lips already glossed and your heart drumming way too fast beneath your ribcage. You’d been on hundreds of sets, you were used to eyes on you, used to being the moment, the vision, the concept. But today, it wasn’t just your concept anymore.

Because he was here.

Your manager’s voice echoed in your head. “He’s a little quiet, but he gets it, he has the look, the edge. You two will kill this if the chemistry’s there.”

You hadn’t seen him yet, not in person.

But the moment you turned the corner and caught sight of the figure getting inside the car? You knew.

He was taller than you expected, dressed simply in black jeans, a snug white tee, silver rings on his fingers, hair slightly tousled like he hadn't even tried. Ni-ki's features were even more enchancing in person, he didn't even look real. You had to swallow, breathing hard as you approached him.

He didn’t look nervous, or excited. He looked like he belonged.

Riki didn’t see you at first, his gaze was low, focused on something in his hands, maybe a ring he was fidgeting with, maybe nothing. The jeans sticked to his legs so perfectly his muscles were visible through the fabric, he was so tall he couldn't even sit straight inside the car.

Then his eyes flicked up, and locked onto yours, you didn't know why, but your stomach dropped.

There was no smile, no wave, just a stillness in the way he watched you walk toward him. Eyes steady, almost unreadable. But there was something under it, curiosity, heat, something you couldn’t name yet.

“Hi,” you said first, voice sweet, casual smile on your lips, stopping a foot away from him. “So you’re the mysterious co-star.”

His lips quirked, just barely. “And you’re the reason everyone’s pretending they’re not watching.”

His voice was smooth, low, deep, didn't match with his face at all, in a good way. Then you smiled softly, tilting your head, hair falling down your shoulders.

"You rehearsed that one?" there was tease in your voice, friendly, of course.

He scoffed, knees parted as he fixed his composure a bit, lazily, natural. Your eyes drifted for just a small second. Then he smirked, because he noticed.

"Maybe. Did it work?" Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, and you laughed again under your breath.

You didn't respond.

The director clapped nearby. “Places! We’re starting with the car scene. Y/N on his lap. Close. Intimate. You’re just back from some chaotic night out, everything’s charged."

Riki let out a sound, staring at you a little amused.

"Starting strong, huh?"

"I like strong starts."

You opened the car door, palm resting against the frame, took a deep breath, your face changing as you slipped into the character mode. You stared at the passenger seat, then him, relaxed, body resting on the driver's seat, like it was his own car, his own set.

Then you stepped forward, and carefully, climbed into his lap. Your bare thigh brushed his jeans, his hand steadied you, fingertips on your waist, featherlight but very real. The movement was awkward for half a second, your knee slipping against the console, your hand pressing into his shoulder to balance, the unfamiliar weight beneath you. After a few seconds, you settled, straddling him. Face inches from his, chest to chest, you could smell his scent, you recognised it without problem, Luna Rossa Black, Prada. Clean, a little smoky, expensive.

Ni-ki didn't even move.

"Is this okay?" you asked quietly, more out of professionalism, but for some reason your voice sounded breathless.

His gaze dropped to your glossy lips, just half-second, you still caught it. A shiver went down your spine.

"Yeah, you?"

"I've had worse monday mornings." You joked, and he laughed, quiet and short.

The director's voice crackled again. “Y/N, lean in. Let your hand trail down his collar like you’re teasing him. Riki, rest your hands on her thighs. We want electricity, not fire. Not yet.”

You sighed deeply, your fingers moved up, tracing the collar of his shirt, brushing lightly over the edge of his throat, your knuckles grazed skin. He inhaled through his nose. His hands came up, one landed on your thigh, then the other. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t drag, just rested them there. Warm, steady, too much. You looked down at him, eyes sharp, lips parted like you were about to say something, his gaze flicked between your eyes, your mouth. Again.

"Action."

The camera slid in close, tracking the curve of your jaw as you leaned in just slightly, you moved your hips an inch forward to adjust, purely for comfort.

He exhaled through his nose, barely. But you felt it.

The whole world narrowed to this, your thighs pressed against him, the heat of his breath, the way his fingers twitched on your skin like he was deciding if he should stay still… or not. Your voice played in the background, slow, sultry, the lyrics dripping with tension. The timing was perfect, the mood was perfect. You slid forward in his lap, slowly, feeling the heat between your bodies grow unbearable in a blink. His hands tightened instinctively, you pretended not to notice, but you felt it.

The director's voice echoed from somewhere in the background “Perfect, perfect, just like that, don’t blink, don’t move.”

So you didn’t. You leaned in, your mouth a breath from his, your palm dragged from his jaw to the nape of his neck, you felt his pulse there, rapid and betraying him. He tilted his head, slightly, as if expecting a kiss. It was all supposed to be pretending, but for some reason, it didn't feel like that.

Ni-ki’s hands slid higher on your thighs. His thumbs grazed your skin, barely brushing the edge of your dress, tingles, all over your body. You sucked in a quiet breath, but your face stayed composed.

You wanted to stay in control, but he was peeling it away, inch by inch, with nothing but touch and breath and timing. He was too good at this.

“Cut!” the director finally said. “That’s it. That’s the shot.”

The crew broke into applause, and you sat perfectly still. Ni-ki didn’t move either, you were still in his lap, still breathing the same air, still buzzing from the high of pretending to be something you weren’t.

Long seconds passed, and you finally climbed off his lap, too carefully, too slow. And as you stepped out of the car, your heart beating through your dress, you felt his eyes on your back.

Watching, burning.

✧˚⋆ ˖ ࣪ .

The second set was darker.

Low, red-tinted lights, velvet curtains, a red chaise lounge that looked like it belonged in a 90s R&B music video. You recognized the mood instantly, it was the “after” scene. The one where you weren’t just lovers, you were drunk on each other. The energy that simmered after the chase, heavy with implication.

You stood near the monitor, adjusting the strap of your dress, watching crew members adjust cameras and angles, you knew this scene would be riskier. Not explicit, not technically. But the subtext?

Oh, it was loud.

And for some reason it made you nervous, because you already knew how good Riki was at this, how he pretended with so much ease, as if he'd been doing it his whole life. But was he pretending? The way he touched you before, the way he looked at you, they way his dark gaze kept wandering down your face, your lips, your body.

The concept was simple: you on your back, legs draped over the edge of the lounge, Ni-ki kneeling between them. No kisses, no touches beyond the waist. But all closeness, all suggestion, a game of restraint. Timing was perfect, of course.

You felt him before you saw him.

His presence was becoming familiar, like the storm air before thunder, that heavy awareness your body picked up before your brain could name it.

“You ready?” he asked from behind.

You turned.

He stood close, too close. His shirt was now half unbuttoned, part of the look, apparently, his collarbones sharp, skin dewy under the glow of the set lights, his lips were glossed, hair slightly messier. He looked so good, so dangerous. You were sure he was the most beautiful man you'd ever laid your eyes on.

“I should be asking you that.”

Ni-ki’s mouth twitched into something small, dangerous. “I’ve been ready.”

Your stomach flipped, but you turned away before you let it show.

“Places!” someone called. “Quiet on set!”

You exhaled once and moved to the chaise, the silk of your dress whispering as you lowered yourself onto it. You leaned back, one leg bent at the knee, the other draped lazily to the floor. A little slutty, a little powerful.

Ni-ki took his mark, kneeling between your legs like it was the most casual thing in the world.

But there was nothing casual about it.

His hands rested on either side of your thighs. Not touching. Just hovering. The space between you felt electric.

“Okay,” the director said. “Ni-ki, lean in. Get close like you’re listening to her heartbeat. Y/N, you’re still, unmoving. You’ve got him in the palm of your hand. This is control. Seduction. Don’t blink. Don’t flinch.”

“Action.”

The music kicked in—low, bass-heavy, slow. Your voice cooing something breathy and loaded through the speakers. Ni-ki moved, he leaned forward, head low, jaw brushing just shy of your knee. He didn’t touch, not at first. But he looked up, eyes trailing along your body, then locking with yours. And he smirked.

It was small, barely there, but it was cocky, confident. A secret he wasn’t sharing.

Your heartbeat spiked.

Then, slowly, so slowly, his hand crept up the inside of your thigh. Your body lit up, it was such a subtle touch, but it was enough for you to almost flinch, for the skin on your legs start to jump, shivering, down your spine and settling beneath your legs because you were wearing only underwear under the dress. And god, he looked at you as if he'd noticed, his pinky brushing the silk fabric of your clothes, his breath crashing between your legs, and your thighs almost twitched.

It wasn’t in the script.

But he didn’t go far, just enough, just inside the line. Was he being professional? Or was he holding himself back?

You didn’t stop him. His head dipped, lips close to your skin now, his breath hit your inner thigh, and you nearly lost it.

He was testing you. You raised one hand and brushed your fingers along the line of his jaw, light, teasing.

“You’re supposed to look like you’re worshipping me,” you whispered low, just for him.

“I am,” he murmured, voice rough, eyes never leaving yours. “You just don’t realize yet.”

Oh.

Your breath caught, but you turned it into a sigh, letting your head tilt back, you closed your eyes for just a second. When you opened them, he was closer. One hand pressed just above your knee now, thumb rubbing slow, lazy circles into your skin. The camera was still rolling. Nobody stopped you, nobody noticed. But he knew exactly what he was doing.

“You’re dangerous,” you whispered.

“So are you,” he said back. “But I’m starting to like it.”

You let your hand trail down his neck, your nails grazing lightly. He shivered, just a little.

“Cut!” the director finally called. “That’s it. That was perfect.”

The crew clapped, but Ni-ki didn’t move right away, his hand slid just a little higher, fingertips brushing the lace of your underwear, and you had to stop yourself from spreading your legs.

And then he looked up at you, mouth right at the edge of your thigh, and said:

“Tell me when I go too far.”

You swallowed, then, very quietly, you whispered:

“You haven’t yet.”

✧˚⋆ ˖ ࣪ .

You hadn’t stopped thinking about him, not for one goddamn second.

It was like your body hadn’t left the set even after the cameras stopped rolling, the velvet, the heat of his hands, the way he whispered things no one else could hear. You were back in your hotel room, alone, trying to move on, but your fingers still remembered the curve of his jaw.

This was weird for you, you'd always been so professional, your work and your career meant everything to you, you were used to work with gorgeous people, gorgeous men. No one like him, though. Everytime your mind wandered and remembered the look in his eyes, you felt it, it was like your whole body knew, how much you wanted him.

And he wanted you too, you knew that. It didn't matter how good he was at his job, he wasn't even an actor. The look in his eyes was real, the heat, the fire. The music video wrapped three days ago, the press was already talking, chemistry, sparks, rumors. You were supposed to be ignoring it, letting it die out, being above it all.

You sighed as you stared at the ceiling, the night quiet, it was only you and these unholy thoughts. Then your eyes landed on the mini-bar, a full, brand new bottle of Amelia Chardonnay looking straight at you, like trying to tempt you.

Your hands reached for your phone before you could even stop yourself. Then you clicked on his name, and stared at the last exchange of messages. Casual thank yous, post-shoot “you did amazings.” All polite, all surface.

Then you typed:

hey do you wanna celebrate tonight?

You stared at it. Deleted it. Typed again.

just me, nothing big i have a bottle of wine in my room no pressure :)

The seconds stretched.

You told yourself it was fine. If he said no, you’d move on. No harm done. You’d drink the wine yourself and call it a night.

Your phone buzzed.

what room number?

Your breath caught.

He was coming.

✧˚⋆ ˖ ࣪ .

You changed outfits twice. Ended up in a silk slip dress that felt just casual enough to pass, but it was short, and soft, and clung in places you knew would betray you if the night went sideways. Heart was racing in your chest, you were feeling like a teenager about to see her crush for the first date, and you slapped yourself mentally. You were a powerful, famous, millionare pop star, who everybody adored, you were a sex symbol, a bombshell.

And yet, your knees weakened when the door knocked.

You had to recompose yourself before opening, stared at yourself through the mirror, hair down, looking casual, no make up on, you didn't want to look like you were trying too hard, but you also wanted to look good for him, to see if it was real, if he truly was holding himself back.

Your hand reached the door, and you opened.

Ni-ki, in all black, a hoodie half-zipped, chain peeking out from underneath, eyes locked on yours like he’d been thinking about this for days too. His hair was slightly damp, like he’d just showered. He looked so good, and your chest tightened, your mind going circles at his damn smell. Manly, strong, elegant.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, hands in his pockets.

“Come in,” you said, stepping back, trying not to think about how clean your room suddenly looked. How the dim lamp made everything feel more intimate.

He walked in, looking around. “Nice view.”

You grabbed the bottle of wine from the counter. “It’s overpriced. But it works.”

He smirked, pulling off his hoodie and tossing it onto a chair. Underneath, a fitted black tee clung to his chest. Arms long, veins popping under his skin.

You swallowed and handed him a glass.

“To... successful collaborations?” you offered.

He clinked his glass with yours, smirk in his thick lips, a little low chuckle leaving his throat, then he took a sip from his glass, and his eyes wandered, slow, intentional, over your body, there was no way to hide it now.

The night went away, and you both had your second glass before the conversation started drifting. At first, it was surface-level: tour schedules, brand campaigns, a horror story about a malfunctioning fog machine mid-shoot. But the wine was working fast. Not enough to slur. Just enough to slow the world down, to take the edge off your restraint.

You leaned back on the couch, leg curled under you, facing him.

“Do you ever wish you’d picked something else?”

Ni-ki blinked at the question. “Like… not modeling?”

“Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re good. Stupid good. But do you like it?”

He tilted his head, swirling the dark red liquid in his glass. “Sometimes. Not always.”

You waited.

“There’s something lonely about it,” he admitted. “People see the pictures, but they don’t know you. They just… project onto you.”

You hummed. “Yeah. Pop music isn’t that different.”

Ni-ki glanced sideways at you. “Except you write your own songs. That’s real. Vulnerable.”

You sipped. “It can be. But sometimes I wonder if anyone hears what I’m actually trying to say. Or if they just hear the beat and move on.”

“Isn’t that what art is though?” he asked. “Hiding in plain sight?”

That made you laugh, a soft, surprised sound. “Okay, philosopher Riki.”

He grinned. “Shut up.”

“No, really. I didn’t think you were this deep.”

“You didn’t think I was anything,” he said, and something flickered behind his eyes. “Before the shoot.”

You hesitated. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but you couldn’t, he wasn’t wrong.

“I thought you were gonna be arrogant,” you admitted. “A pain in the ass. And okay, you kind of are.”

He smirked.

“But then you surprised me.”

His smile faded, he tilted his head, his eyes were already lazy, because of the alcohol in his system. “How?”

You looked at him, really looked. His hair was a little messier than before, cheeks slightly red from the wine, lips wet because he kept running his tongue over them. He was so handsome, so effortlessly tempting.

“At first I thought you were just good at pretending. The way you got so close to me, like it was nothing. But then… you kept listening. You never broke character, but your eyes? They didn’t lie.”

Ni-ki’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and your eyes followed the movement.

The silence after that was heavier. Not awkward, just pulsing, charged, like the air had thickened between you and was now buzzing with every unsaid thing. You both reached for your glasses at the same time, your fingers brushed. And neither of you moved away.

“You keep doing that,” you whispered.

He raised an eyebrow. “Doing what?”

“Looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

You exhaled. “Like you’re going to ruin me.”

He stared for a beat. Then, so softly you almost missed it, he said: “Maybe I will.”

Your breath caught.

He set his glass down slowly, deliberately. And then leaned in, not all the way, not enough to touch.

“You invited me here,” he said, voice low, eyes flicking to your lips. “Did you think we were just gonna talk about work and drink wine?”

“I didn’t...” Your voice cracked. “I didn’t know what I wanted.”

“You do now?” he asked as if he was desperate for your answer, desperate for you.

Your pulse was loud in your ears. Your body was already answering before your mouth could, the space between you practically begged to be closed.

And then you whispered, “Yes.”

He didn’t wait.

His hand cupped your jaw, gentle but firm, and he kissed you.

Soft at first, testing, tasting. But the moment your lips parted, it shifted. You moved at the same time, like something snapped. You were suddenly straddling him, the wine long forgotten, your hands in his hair, his mouth on your throat. It was messy, hot, desperate. And yet, still controlled. His hands slid down your sides, slow, like he wanted to memorise the shape of you. You gasped when his fingers pressed into your hips, pulling you against him, and he groaned into your mouth like he’d been holding that in for days.

Ni-ki's hands then traveled down your thighs, grabbing, squeezing just a bit, not too hard, but enough to make you sigh in his mouth and unintentionally rock your hips against him, while pulling strands of his dark hair, tangling your fingers, lips crashing, tongues against each other, hot, warm, wet. Just like your underwear was now, you felt it, pooled against the thin fabric. Your dress was lifted up, showing more, the lace of your panties showing up, but you didn't care, you wanted it like this, because he kept touching you. Warm fingers ended up in your asscheeks, squeezing again, and you rubbed yourself against his crotch again, he moaned deep, hot breath colliding with yours, hard beneath his pants.

Then a knock on the door, and you separated from the kiss, breathing heavily, but he didn't stop, trailing with his soaked lips along your jawline, down to your neck, tongue licking, sucking, but not marking. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered.

"Don't answer."

You don’t even remember how you end up horizontal, just the feel of his hands under your thighs, lifting, the soft thud of your back hitting the plush hotel bed, the silk of your slip bunching under your hip, his shirt forgotten on the floor, his lips on your collarbone.

Underwear was the only thing covering you know, after he lifted your dress and helped you slip out of it, throwing it across the room like a hungry man, like he couldn't wait any longer to have you.

He stared like he’d never seen anything more devastating.

And when he leaned in again, this time with no hesitation, no restraint, you knew you were gone. You weren't the popstar. He wasn't the model. You were just you, and he was just Ni-ki, and this was the crash you both saw coming from a mile away. Your lips crashed again, messier now, hotter, you traded kisses like secrets, like confessions, like sins you both wanted to keep making. He grabbed your throat, but didn't choke, just held, not wanting to let go of your mouth, and you moaned softly, sucking his tongue as his hand now traveled between your legs, above your underwear, he touched you, slow, like teasing, your arousal soaking a spot in your panties, and he moaned against your mouth.

"Can i take this off?" he asked, voice weak, breathless, forehead against yours, his fingers rubbing slow circles in your clothed clit.

You just nodded, you couldn't talk, you just wanted him right there.

So he smirked, pecking your lips before sliding your underwear out of you, and his eyes sparkled, he bit his lip, hands on your knees so you could be spread open for him. He wasted no time, fingers between your folds as he soaked them in your arousal, glistening, thick wetness that made him inhale through his nose and hiss between his teeth, and you arched your back lightly, sensual, one of his hands squeezed your breast.

"You're soaked. Dripping." You tried to smile, but a whimper left your lips when he slid a finger in.

"You like it." a breathless chuckle came from your throat, and he smirked again, sliding a second finger, curling them inside of you, stretching you, so good.

"I love it."

Then he started thrusting them, in and out of you, fast, with skill, his palm crashing with your clit, and you moaned again, closing your eyes and letting your head fall on the pillow, your thighs twitching, but he kept you spread, not wanting to miss how his fingers disappeared inside your tight walls. His other hand kept groping your breasts, pinching your hardened nipples, and a jolt of pleasure washed you completely. He chuckled, but not making fun of you, just amused, lustful.

"You're sensitive." he bit his lip again, fingers still curling inside of you "Fierce, hot, bombshell popstar is sensitive, right here." He pinched your nipple again and you trembled, high pitch moan leaving your throat, he smiled when he felt how your pussy clenched around his digits. "Cute."

He kissed you again, tongue and spit in your mouth, and you whined when he added a third finger, your wetness now dripping between your thighs and soaking the silk bed sheets beneath your body, he reached your g-spot and teased it with the tip of his fingers, and you arched your back again, biting his lip and pulling it which made him hiss, your legs trembling when his thumb rubbed your aching clit.

Then he removed them, catching his breath, straightening on the bed, knees against the mattress, his weight heavy, his body hot. He slid out of his pants and underwear in one movement, and you looked up at him, devastated, eyes teary, shiny, full with lust and need. His length was thick, hard and veiny, dripping from his red tip, throbbing in his hand as he stroked himself just a little.

You moved before even saying anything, lifting your torso and replacing his hand with yours, rubbing your palm against his throbbing member, and he groaned low, placing a hand on your head, softly, gentle, but it made you shiver anyways. Then you licked, long, slow, wet, from the base to the dripping tip, and he hissed louder, now pulling your hair just a bit, thrusting his hips forward to meet with your mouth. Your lips wrapped around him, and you relaxed your jaw, taking him deep, until he touched the back of your throat and you had to suppress a gag, eyes watering, vision hazy, head spinning, the room hot around you.

"S-Shit." Ni-ki groaned, letting his head fall backwards, his adams apple moving up and down as he breathed hard, and you bobbed your head, tracing with your tongue the veins on his cock, tasting him, swallowing him. You pulled back and repeated the process, until spit and tears were dripping, until he had to make you stop because he didn't want to cum yet.

Your back touched the mattress again, and he placed himself between your legs, kissing you, tasting himself in your soaked mouth, and then pushed your legs against your chest, forcing you spread open just for him. He then grabbed the base of his cock, rubbing the tip against your soaked slit, up and down, side to side, slow, and you whined at the anticipation, at the tease, your pussy pulsing, aching, needy and wet, his precum dripping against your folds.

He slid inside of you, arms above your head, heavy on you, slowly, but his gaze was sharp, dark and full of lust, and he groaned your name as he stretched you, soaked walls swallowing his length so good, so tight, and he felt so thick inside of you that you had to reach for his shoulders, eyes shut and lips parted trying to breath. His hips met yours, your pussy clenched tight around him. He stayed still for a few seconds, dropping his forehead against yours, sweaty, sticky, your nails digging against the soft skin of his shoulders. Your vision was blurry, your body completely clenched, as if it had been waiting for this too.

"I’ve thought about this since the first take,” he admitted, voice wrecked “When you climbed into my lap in that car.”

And you whimpered as his hips pulled back a little, you felt his stretch leaving your insides, your walls fluttered, clencing around nothing for a few seconds, but he pulled in again, skin against skin. You moaned breathless, your bare breasts against his chest.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby." his breath was hot against your face, and you arched your back, hot and sweaty bodies just so close to each other.

Then he started moving, setting a rhythm that was just so perfect, not so fast, not so rough, but deep, you could feel him in every inch of you, stretching you, shaping you, your pussy clenched around him in every thrust, soaked, dripping, creating a slick sound everytime his hips crashed against the skin of your entrance. And you could only whimper, combining the sound of your weak voice with his long and low groans.

"Ni-ki..." you cried his name, lips parted, eyes sticked to his.

"I'm right here, baby." his voice was raw, he talked through his teeth, his strokes growing a little rougher.

He was stroking, not too fast, but forceful, every thrust forcing moans out of your chests, and the bed creaked beneath both of you, his rhythm perfect, hard, persistent. Ni-ki's lips found your neck again, and he dragged them along your skin.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, clutching at his shoulders, nails digging crescents into his skin. “You feel so good...”

“I know, baby,” he grunted again, voice breaking around the words. His hand slipped under your thigh, now lifting it higher around his waist, and suddenly he hit a spot that had your back arching off the mattress, a sharp cry ripping from your throat.“There?” he panted, smirking despite the sweat at his temple. “Right fucking there?”

You nodded frantically, too gone to speak, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming heat between your legs and the maddening pace he kept. His mouth was everywhere, your shoulder, the swell of your chest, your jaw, littering kisses and bruises, like he wanted to mark you, leave proof that this happened.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, forehead pressing to yours. “So fuckin’ perfect, taking me so well.”

His thrust were steady, perfect hips rolling over you, breaking you, wrecking your body just how you needed, his lips never leaving your skin, as if he couldn't keep them off of you, as if he was trying to devour you and never forget you.

Suddenly, something shifted.

Your hand moved to his chest, pressing just hard enough to make him pause. He blinked up at you, chest heaving, confused for half a second, until you leaned in, kissed him slow and deep, and whispered against his mouth:

“My turn.”

Ni-ki didn't argue, a soft grin in the corner of his swollen, red lips. He let you push him back, his head falling against the pillows, lips parted as you swinged your leg over him and straddled his waist in one smooth, practiced motion.

“Fuck,” he breathed, hands automatically landing on your hips. “You look..."

You rolled your hips once, teasing him, wet folds against his thick hard cock, and his words dissolved into a moan. You lined yourself up again and sunk down slowly, inch by inch. His head dropped back with a curse, hands gripping your thighs so tightly they might bruise. You started slow. Rolling your hips just enough to make him twitch beneath you, your hands braced on his chest, nails dragging down his skin. He watched you like he was in a trance, eyes glued to the way you rode him, mouth open, completely undone.

“You’re so deep,” you gasped, throwing your head back. “So fucking deep.”

His hands slid up your body, one gripping your waist while the other palmed your breast, thumb circling lazily over your nipple. You leaned down, mouths meeting in a messy kiss, your movements never faltering. His abs tensed under your touch, hips bucking instinctively, trying to meet you thrust for thrust, but you pinned him down with a smirk.

And the rhythm built again, faster, sharper. The air was thick with moans, sweat, skin. Your name tumbled from his lips again and again, until his grip tightened, your breasts bouncing against his face, skins crashing, you jumping up and down on his length until your thighs felt like burning, but it felt so good, he was so deep, so thick inside of you, so meant to be. Ni-ki's hand stretched, and he circled your clit, at the pace of your bounces, and you whined his name and moved erratically, wetness dripping until his pelvis was soaked.

Your body started trembling over him, that familiar wave building fast, too fast. You slowed down for just a second, rocked into him deeper, his thumb dragging down to press right where you needed it most.

“I-I’m close,” you choked out, voice shaky.

“Then come,” he whispered, almost pleading. “Come with me.”

And then you fell.

Head thrown back, mouth open, thighs squeezing around him as your whole body convulsed from the force of it. The climax crashed through you, white-hot and blinding. You fell forward, shaking, mouth pressed to his shoulder as your body pulsed around him. He was not far behind, watching you unravel completely, eyes dark and wild, as he thrusted once, twice, then buried himself deep with a strangled moan. He let go seconds later, hips jerking, hands clawing at your back as he spilled into you with a broken groan of your name.

The world blurred.

Silence followed, heavy and satisfied.

You stayed on top of him, both of you breathless, sweaty, clinging like the high might never fade. And then, quietly, he whispered, voice hoarse:

“I don’t think I can ever look at you the same way again.”

You smirked against his skin. “Good.”

thank you so much for reading <3 i hope you enjoyed this and you understand my vision damn i love addison rae so much she’s so iconic to me

anyways, i really like this one <3

hope you guys love it !!

[theeverlastingebullience]

Say It's Love

When your lips taste like the rarest sensation— candy floss spun carnations, trapping in wafts of allure, I can’t help but wish for instances such as this, to never get pruned too short or early, so our novel chemistry won’t falter.

[monstersholygrail]

Just being neighborly

Pairing: Orc neighbor x fem!reader— yandere reader, nudity, dryhumping, rough play, kidnapping(?)

This fic was inspired and continued off of this post by @bunnis-monsters ! (With permission ofc)

Ever since your new neighbor moved in you had had your eye on him. He had appeared on what you originally thought was going to be an ordinary day. Arriving with a large U-Haul truck yet he was the only one to come out of it.

He was strapping orc, tall and handsome— though he clearly didn’t know it. But that was perfectly fine, you were more than happy to let him know.

You were surprised when he moved to the back to open it up and started taking in boxes and furniture all by himself. The sight of him lifting up an entire dresser with one arm soon had your panties soaked with arousal. You had never wanted to swap places with a piece of furniture so bad. You couldn’t believe you were jealous over a dresser. A dresser! Yet you were and you totally couldn’t deny it.

Imagining yourself finally in his huge muscular arms as they circle around your body and trap your form against his, begging for you relieve some of pressure you had caused in his cock. Showing you exactly what he means as he rubs you into the bulge straining against his pleated pants. His large hands digging into you roughly as he helps you grind your slick core against his impressive erection.

Luckily you catch yourself daydreaming before he can spot you practically collapsed on the railing of your porch. Your brows furrow as you wipe your mouth, a small bit of drool on the corner of your lip.

Deciding you need to get your claws in him, so to speak, before anyone else in the neighborhood does, you think of the perfect excuse to head on over.

Knocking on the back of the moving truck, lemonade glass in hand, you wait for your new neighbor to notice you. He whirls around clumsily at the noise, causing the truck to slightly shake.

“Hi, neighbor! Welcome to the neighborhood. Thought you might be thirsty so I come bearing drinks!” You greet, flashing him your most flirtatious smile.

Orc neighbor comes to the opening of the truck slowly. Your head tilts back the closer he gets and you force yourself not to literally purr in delight. You push your chest out as you hand him the glass, knowing the view of your cleavage from his angle must be spectacular.

He crouches down and carefully takes the glass of lemonade from your hand between a few of his fingers. There’s an evident dark green blush on his cheeks and you can’t help but giggle at the sight of it.

“Thank you, little lady,” he mumbles shyly. Your smile widens, looking over your new obsession.

Oh, he’s so darling. You already want him all to yourself. But you know you’re going to enjoy the chase. Even if he isn’t aware of it.

It started off light, you wanted to at least give him time to fall for your advances. Your seduction plan would gain a natural intensity, fitting to the clear chemistry between you and your orc neighbor.

First you always seemed to end up needing to borrow a cup of sugar. He was more than happy to give you some and you made sure to thank him with a hug that let him feel you completely. When he never tried to cop a feel you opened up all your blinds and started making it normal for you to walk around your house naked. Letting him get little glimpses here and there. But when you realized he’d avert his gaze, being the gentleman he is, you knew you had to make your interest more obvious.

So you start peeking through the curtains, waiting to see when orc neighbor goes to take out his trash so you can go too. Wearing nothing but your flimsy almost see-through robe. Letting him watch as your nipples harden the longer you both interact.

When you head back into your house you purposely leave the door open, waiting for orc neighbor to come inside. And of course because he's such a gentleman he nervously comes up on your porch and reminds you softly that you left the door open.

Oh my, silly you. Your mind must be so all over the place that you just happened to forget in your rush! Luckily he was there to save you from someone bad coming in. Of course, such heroics deserve a reward so you invite him in to have breakfast with you. He’s so busy looking around your comfy home that he doesn't hear you click the lock in place as you shut the door.

You must be so clumsy this morning because when you go to bring him a nice cup of coffee, you accidentally trip and end up spilling it all over him! Apologies spew from your lips as take some napkins you just so happened to be holding and start patting all over his tummy and his crotch.

His cock twitches under your attentive touch and he blushes, hoping you don't notice. But of course you do. You notice everything about him. He quickly assures you it's ok but that he should get home to change.

That won't do, no, not at all. You tell him that's not necessary at all as you enjoy wearing oversized shirts but they're hard to find in human sizes. Much more common in orc. So you're sure you have something that'll fit. He's too bashful to refuse such an offer.

You head into your closet and grab the first oversized shirt you can find. Absolutely positive that he won't notice how it smells like him. Or that it looks eerily similar to that shirt of his that went missing a few days ago.

To be continued…?

[janecafe]

18+ PICK A CARD: your future spouse's inner thoughts when they see you naked 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

jane's notes: i don't own this theme nor take advantage of the rights of the real owner. the theme and layout was inspired by the original owner @/clairdelunetarot. i would love to let you know that i won't frequently used this theme rather i apply it for 18+ pick a card's reading of mine so they can be easily distinguished while for the others pac's i'm still gonna used the same theme. strictly 18+ only, minors DNI. again. this reading was meant for adult audiences so minors could you please don't interact? appreciate that. thank you!

trigger warning: the audiences and readers are heavily advised that some words from this work are a bit much, and/or excessively for someone's interest and language. this contains adult language that may not be suitable for minors and may not be suitable for some adult readers. do not rely much on this reading as it was not a specific rather it's a general.

have any suggestions? kindly forward them here.

PAID READING SERVICES | MASTERLIST | COMMUNITY

© janecafe 2025

❛ 𝑝𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 ❜

woo-wee. you're a hottie. that's their first one description upon seeing it. they think you are comfortable and confident with your own body. it's like "i don't give a damn fuck what's will others says about me. my body, my rule". although, it can make them feel horny. they inner thought is percieves your body as someone who have natural, masterpiece and hyper-realistic details. your rawness brings a sharp feelings on them. because with that confident? honey, you are slaying, period. perhaps, it will not be a big deal if you are not shaved, they love how your body is mixed up with natural forms and a bit messy. under the sheets, you look like a model from a well-know brand, like you're a highest paid and most famous model. they wanna worship that body, it's a holy feeling to touch it. otherwise, they can be monster and rough in bed. with this person, you gonna experience the very intense sex chemistry. they may start to dreaming what does it feels like to have a stimulation with you. to feel the beat and dance. like how does it feel to have your fluid slowly dripping down inside their body. in short, they wanna have a dramatic motion with you (heavily breeding kink). they would think that you have a perky tits and nice shape of bump. they wanna grasp and leave marks on that body.

★ check the previous pac

❛ 𝑝𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑤𝑜 ❜

breathe is hitched. reaction? definitely shocked. face? red like tomato. i found this as a funny scenario lol. the first time, they may see you naked was accidental? it wasn't on purpose but i sense, it was like you're half naked and not totally nude. i think you just come out in the shower area when your towel slips off but after this accident i think you gonna acting as if it wasn't a big deal to ignore the anxiety you were feeling. perhaps, they may think they seen the perfect view. after that, they may start fantasizing you. they wanna squeeze that body. like a burning sensation of "i want you so bad, real bad". i think you are self-conscious individual? as if imagining someone seeing you wearing nothing in a bedroom makes you paranoid and insecure. it's like you may think you have an unattractive body. your future spouse's gonna make sure they will put a smile on your face every time, they will make sure you are comfortable with them— naked or not. they won't make you feel less. you body is a vessel for them. you have soft features and flesh. you have an exciting places down there. they immediately thought seeing you without clothes is you are the bomb. although, your flaws is significant. this person gonna think you have the body that shines, that you are their favorite flavor of physique and figure. your future spouse's will focus on your best features like your breast. they gonna appreciate your confidence when you are with them, they gonna feel proud about the impact of their positivity leaves on your mind, soul and body.

★ check the previous pac

❛ 𝑝𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 ❜

aww. they think your body is wholesome. it's dapper and cute. you may have small and rounded features. perhaps, i can see on their side that they wait for this time to come to arrive. it's a long run and patience with their part. you have seduction eyes and captivating moan. they want to see how your organism explode with that body. upon gazes on your stripped shape, they feel hungry and excitement on themselves. and geez, shower sex is you two favorite love making. perhaps, they may feel bad about devouring you so quickly not thinking what will you feel. despite that they may want contact your body to its utmost care as they can, their eagerness and intrusive thoughts always comes out. they may even think that you are the best dish they ever tasted. they may also think you are a rare flower that only bloom under the light of celestial body. with clothes on? they're gonna still think some lewd stuff about you. and last, they think you have attractive lips— soft and creamy texture that eager them to kiss and twist their tongue inside your mouth. having sex with you is like the best feeling you give to your other half, it tastes like heaven with a burning sensation of hell. they gonna have multiple emotions to feel. it was like lightning hitting the ground after stimulation.

★ check the previous pac

˚⊱🍀⊰˚

[lucianpaulista]

É pras novinhas enlouquecer

[nianeyemystic]

💦💖 Sexual & Physical Compatibility Synastry 🤤

Soooo this post was inspired by one of my close friends. She's in a long distance relationship & was explaining how different sex feels with her new man. Now let me preface this and say

*not everyone will experience this synastry the same, that's okay these are just MY OWN obseervations. Ive been studying this for a few years now and so far - it tracks lol*

❤️‍🔥Mars-Venus Aspects❤️‍🔥

✨ Conjunction, Trine, or Sextile: These aspects show natural attraction and sexual chemistry. Mars represents passion, while Venus represents love and desire. You can find yourself becoming so intensely attracted to your partner. It's something we astrologers always look for, if you have these, you most certainly will know it by how your body reacts to that person being around you.

✨ Square or Opposition: These can indicate tension that manifests as fiery, passionate attraction but may need effort to balance. So yes, you will want to tear their clothes off every time you interact, but it can also be like unnecessary fights & explosive fights. You will need a sexual outlet.

❇️Mars-Mars Aspects❇️

✨ If Mars in both charts forms a harmonious aspect (e.g., trine or sextile), you may share similar sexual energy levels and desires. Which can lead to wanting the sex at the same time or being on the same page about what makes you feel good in the bedroom.

😍 Mars-Pluto Aspects😍

✨ This is a powerful placement for deep, transformative, and intense sexual attraction. I looooooveeeee seeing this one in couples charts. If you've felt like you can't explain why your body tingles around them, why you can't stop thinking about them? Why you're always wanting to be near them. You possibly have Mars - Pluto. The connection can feel magnetic and almost fated.

💋 Venus-Pluto Aspects💋

✨These aspects create an obsessive, passionate attraction. I say obsessive bc Pluto is involved. It can be healthy though, depending on how you express your obsessions. Like....don't stalk them, but be open about how they make you crave the. There’s often a deep emotional and physical bond that feels irresistible.

🧡Moon-Mars Aspects🧡

✨ The Moon represents emotions and Mars represents physical drive, so these aspects indicate a connection that blends emotional intimacy with sexual passion. I already did an entire post describing this connection in detail, so make sure you visit that one here:

💙Venus-Mars in Each Other's Houses💙

✨ When one partner's Venus or Mars falls into the other's 5th (romance), 7th (partnership), or 8th (sexual intimacy) houses, it can signify strong attraction and sexual compatibility.

💕 Sun-Mars Aspects💕

✨ Harmonious aspects (e.g., trine or sextile) between the Sun and Mars often indicate a strong physical connection. Challenging aspects can create a dynamic but exciting sexual tension. I like Sun & Mars bc sometimes it can feel invigorating & exciting when relationships seem to get dull. You'll always find the other person just enough of a challenge to keep your enticed.

💋Moon-Pluto Aspects💋

✨ This aspect creates emotional intensity and a deep, transformative connection that often translates into a passionate physical bond. I have sen this play out several times and it can be a beautiful bond that only you two will understand. So much so that you may even be willing to try new sexual things w this person, taboo sexual exploration. As long as the emotional connection is being satisfied, you will do anything to please your partner sexually.

❤️‍🔥Eros and Psyche (433 & 16)❤️‍🔥

✨Eros (sexual desire) and Psyche (soulful love) aspects in synastry can reveal where deep sexual and emotional compatibility exists.

💛 North Node Conjunct Venus or Mars💛

✨This placement suggests a karmic or destined connection where the partners help each other grow, often through romantic or sexual experiences. The friend I was inspired to make this post bc of this has this with her man. His NN is conjunct her Venus. she's expressed many times how his love feels like it is healing her, forcing her to grow as a divine feminine. I love this one, it also leads to sexual healing.

💕Bonus: 8th House Synastry💕

When one person’s planets fall into the other’s 8th house, it often triggers themes of intimacy, transformation, and sexual magnetism.

These placements and aspects don't guarantee compatibility, but they can highlight areas of potential connection and attraction. Always look at the full synastry chart for a holistic view!

Do you have any of these? Let me know below!

@nianeyemystic ✨❥

[o2studies]

༻`` 04 Jan 24 — Thursday

100 days of productivity 4/100

Photos from pinterest

I'm up to date on my chem notes and I finished my math notes too 📝! I picked up my productivity again after a low by taking a hot shower and listening to Fabrizio Paterlini 🎶 Afterwards I focused on getting my mood back up and made up my 2024 vision board!! These will now be my goals for the year ^^

[littlelamy]

victoria'ssecret!model!reader

a/n: i have a victoria'ssecret!angel!reader for rafe but since the victoria secret show is happening today i was inspired to do character for mr.drew starkey!

the scholar beauty – she’s not just a victoria’s secret model with a stunning runway presence; she’s also studying psychology and dreams of making an impact beyond the fashion world. her brains are just as impressive as her beauty, and she’s fiercely dedicated to her studies. drew loves bragging about how she balances her demanding career with hitting the books. not only does she ace exams, but she’s also already talking about future plans that go way beyond modeling.

movie night queen – one of her favorite ways to unwind is cozying up to watch movies, especially ones with drew in them. she’s his biggest fan, always hyping up his roles and being the first to support his projects. whether it’s a rom-com or an action film, she knows every line he delivers and always makes sure they have popcorn ready for a perfect movie night in.

first to like and first to gift – whenever drew posts a new photo, she’s the first to like it—always leaving a cute comment to remind him how proud she is. and when he lands a new role, she’s the first to celebrate. whether it’s a thoughtful gift or just showing up with his favorite snack, she always knows how to make him feel special and appreciated.

their first big public appearance – their debut as a couple was at the queer premiere in venice, turning heads on the red carpet. she looked flawless in a sleek dress, and drew couldn’t stop smiling the entire night. it was the first time they really went public with their relationship, and they’ve been the “it” couple ever since. the world got a taste of their undeniable chemistry that night, and they’ve been inseparable ever since.

where it all began – they met at madelyn cline’s birthday party, and sparks flew immediately. neither of them could take their eyes off each other, and from that night on, they’ve been glued together. despite both their busy schedules, they’ve made it work, making time for each other no matter what. from that first meeting, they knew something special was brewing.

age is just a number – being younger than drew stirred up some media buzz, but they don’t let the noise bother them. she’s confident in their love, and her sweet nature won people over quickly. despite some of the controversy around their age gap, she’s become a fan favorite with her down-to-earth personality and how she’s always lifting drew up.

more...

moodboard delivery untitled fittings

[wingsofdeadbutterfly]

Organic spectroscopy!

Getting back to chemistry isn't easy. But I am trying my best to get some studies done. Organic chemistry had always been my favorite. That's the only thing getting me going in this stream. Weather is so nice these days. It's foggy and rainy. The kind that makes the sky look all gloomy with the thunder clouds. Ah my favorite kind of weather!

The pic on the right captures some of my sketches and drawing that I did last month to get out of my stupid heart break. Creating something really gets your heart moving.

Book- the wind-up bird chronicle by Haruki Murakami

[moonreader1010]

Things about you that will have them hooked 💋🧿 (18+)

-by Valerie

Pick one of the following piles:-

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3. ^

Note:- the pictures used don't belong to me and all the rights go to their original owners.

-This is for entertainment purposes only. Take what resonates.

-minors DNI.

-take a deep breath and pick the pile that calls you.

Pile 1.

The Soulful Romantic

Cards Pulled: The Empress, The Moon, Ace of Cups, The Lovers, King of Pentacles, Seven of Wands

This person will be drawn to the divine sensuality you radiate. The Empress speaks of your natural beauty and allure—there’s something about the way you carry yourself that exudes confidence and an untouchable, goddess-like energy. When they’re near you, they feel like they’re stepping into a dream, a mystery they can’t unravel, as shown by The Moon. Your ability to reveal just enough while leaving so much to the imagination keeps them utterly captivated. With the Ace of Cups, you’re like a refreshing oasis, igniting a deep emotional connection that they haven’t felt with anyone else. The Lovers shows that they see you as their ultimate partner, someone they’d risk everything for. Meanwhile, the King of Pentacles hints at how grounded and self-sufficient you are, which only intensifies their desire to prove their worth to you. Yet, the Seven of Wands adds a layer of challenge—you’re not easily won over, and your resistance only makes them want you more.

Visionary Scenario: Imagine them watching you laugh softly in a dimly lit café, the glow of candlelight playing on your skin. They’re hooked on the way your eyes seem to hold a thousand secrets, the way you sip your coffee like royalty. They’d sit across the table, leaning in, mesmerized, while their heart races, thinking, "How do I convince them to let me in?"

Pile 2.

The Adventurous Spirit

Cards Pulled: Knight of Wands, The Star, Nine of Pentacles, Two of Cups, The Tower, Page of Swords

This person is a thrill-seeker, and your fiery passion lights a spark in them they can’t ignore. With the Knight of Wands, it’s your boldness and unpredictability that leave them intrigued. You’re not afraid to take risks or live unapologetically, and that’s a magnetic pull for them. The Star reveals that you’re like a beacon of hope and inspiration in their life. They’re drawn to your optimism, your dreams, and how you’re unafraid to chase after what you want. The Nine of Pentacles highlights your independence and elegance; they see you as someone who has built a life of richness—both externally and within. When the Two of Cups appears, it suggests that they feel an undeniable emotional and physical chemistry with you. The Tower, though, adds an element of danger. You shake up their life in the best way possible, forcing them out of their comfort zone. With the Page of Swords, they’re constantly trying to figure you out, hooked on your intelligence and the way you keep them guessing.

Visionary Scenario: Picture this—on an impromptu road trip, you’re laughing as you tease them, wind blowing through your hair. They glance over at you from the driver’s seat, utterly hypnotized by the way you radiate freedom and excitement. In that moment, they think, "I’d follow them anywhere."

Pile 3.

The Intellectual Dreamer

Cards Pulled: Queen of Swords, Temperance, Three of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, The Devil, Eight of Wands

This person admires your sharp mind and wit, symbolized by the Queen of Swords. You challenge them intellectually, and they’re obsessed with how you always have the perfect comeback or insight. Temperance reveals that you have a serene balance about you—you’re the calm in their storm, a grounding presence they crave. The Three of Pentacles shows that they’re drawn to how you collaborate with others, your ambition, and your ability to inspire and lead. The Ten of Cups makes it clear that they fantasize about long-term happiness with you; you embody their dream of an ideal partner. The Devil, however, spices things up—you have a seductive side they can’t resist. It’s the way you make eye contact just a little too long, or how you subtly hint at something more, that drives them wild. The Eight of Wands speaks of your ability to make things happen quickly and passionately, leaving them breathless and wanting more.

Visionary Scenario: Imagine them meeting you at a gallery opening. You’re discussing art with effortless eloquence, your voice like velvet. They’re hooked on the way your words tease their mind while your presence tantalizes their senses. That night, as they lie awake, they’re consumed with the thought, "How can I be the one to unlock all their layers?"

[inarvii]

₊˚.- NEEDLES AND PINS

Patience breeds success. However, Dr. Veritas Ratio's patience has successfully run thin when it comes to the Intelligentsia Guild's new professor.

OR

Dr. Ratio hate reads about you.

wc - 3.4k

A/N - Basically a Dr. Ratio character study, inspired by the Deftones song Needles and Pins.

Veritas Ratio was a Needle. 

At least, that is what he saw himself as. He was sharp, precise, and calculated. One had to be in this world full of ignorant minds. 

His known prestige amongst scholars was by no accident. Every equation, formula, and theory engraved into his mind was nothing he didn’t want there. His reputation at the Intelligentsia Guild was by no fault other than his own. And he liked it this way. 

So when Dr. Veritas Ratio’s curiosity peaks, he will seek out information regardless of what stands in his way. It just so happens that the rumor of a Genius Society member abandoning their ranking to join the Intelligence Guild not only piques his interest but puzzles him quite a bit. 

Everything Veritas Ratio has ever done—ever accomplished was with intent. That’s just what a needle does. 

And as he reads the passage before him in the worn textbook he fished out of the bookshelves at his university, he intends to figure out your perplexing nature. 

“…and discovered five different constellations that are now crucial to Intercosmic Space Travel, earning the name of the ‘Star Lit Genius’ just after finishing her Associates.”

- Excerpt from Exploring the Starlit Genius

A fool. 

Ratio closes the bulky biography with a booming thud. The echo can be heard bouncing off the walls of his office. 

That is what you were. That is your nature. 

A fool is the only description he can think of as he sharply brings his fingers to his lips. Questions bubble inside him, but the one that escapes himself is, “Why?” 

Why would anyone do such a thing? The mere thought that someone could leave the Genius Society was baffling. Sure, there probably were some that had left, but that had to be Amber Eras in the past. 

It wasn’t ignorance it was foolishness. Perhaps he was right about Genius Society members having a rock up their asses. There was truly nothing that separated them from the mundane, such as himself. They were just as equally subjected to idiocy. 

But could you do such a thing?

You. A scholar blessed by Nous! Given a chance—an opportunity. 

He scoffs, his head jerking to the side as if catching himself in an act. 

He shouldn’t care. 

He doesn’t care. 

He’s over that. 

Ratio sighs and shakes his head. He doesn’t care. You were foolish, that’s all. It was nothing more. 

But who might this fool be? 

Ratio’s cold finger travels around the textbook's hardcover. He quickly flips through the pages. Frustration is evident on his face as his brows furrow the more pages he turns. 

Yet, there’s nothing. 

There’s not one picture of you—the fool—that perplexes his mind. Of course, there wouldn’t be. The Genius Society's “holy” standing wouldn’t allow that. So, he’ll just have to wait for the day he meets the deluded “genius.” 

“Immediately after finishing her Associates, the Star Lit Genius earned funds from the IPC for her findings, causing the young brilliant mind to venture more deeply into the cosmos.”

- Excerpt form Exploring the Starlit Genius

Time had passed and life went on. It had been a month since Veritas’ initial read of your biography. He had learned much. Such as your main fields of anatomy, pathology, chemistry and of course astronomy. Little details of your past are stored neatly in the back of the Doctor’s mind, but he has had no use for it. The new semester had started and as time went on he too started to carry on. Students plagued his mind instead, yet a star glittered somewhere near. 

“Dr. Ratio.”

It’s no voice he’s familiar with. Or maybe one he’s just not accustomed to yet. Most likely a new student in one of his classes.  

He doesn’t even bother to look up. Instead he continues to shuffle through his papers with equations and calculations of the new curriculum that he would soon ignore altogether in his lessons. 

He sighs. “Students are to ask questions during the appointed time.” His voice lacks any interest whatsoever. 

He was tired of students who seemed to think they were special. If anything, the unfamiliar voice is probably a student coming to butter him up before the semester starts to get on his good side. 

“Oh, I’m not a student.” Your voice isn’t familiar, but the syllables that roll off your tongue are ever engraved into his mind. His inner consciousness has read the name so much that he can envision the letters.  

Before he looks up, a smug grin shows on his face. Finally, he could put the foolish mind to the face. It was a gift, really. You, coming straight to his door. You had done all the work for him. 

But then he takes his first look at you. 

Veritas Ratio isn’t one to be rendered speechless, but his surprise is evident. His grin drops at the sight of you. Before, he had imagined that he should have put on his mask of marble to forbid his eyes from the sight of such a foolish person. But now his frustrations were fueled even more by the undeniable fact that a fool could look like…you. 

“Professor Alvarez said you would be the person to go to regarding any Physics textbooks,” you say, and Ratio comes back to reality as your voice vibrates around the large space. You stand in the wide door frame, hands held together in front of you. 

“Ah,” he chokes out. “Our new professor.” He quickly gets up to walk to the bookshelf behind him to rid the sight of you. His steps are light but eager; however, his back stands straight, and his head is held high. This was it? This was the fool he had read about? What a pity, he thinks as he climbs a few steps up the ladder of the bookshelf. Looks wasted on a simpleton. 

Ratio tries to change the topic of conversation while trying not to show his evident surprise. “Say, what does an astronomer have that warrants the need for physics?” He questions. 

You're quick to answer. “Well, the two are connected, I’m sure you’re aware.” 

He is aware—he’s well aware. But he’s also aware of his unwelcomed knowledge of your hatred for anything purely mathematical in any sense, especially physics, which you loathe the most. He even remembers the page clearly in chapter twenty-six, section fou—but that's beside the point. His ever-growing facts about you are a card he cannot yet play. He has only gazed at you for a mere eight seconds. So for now, he will keep his mouth shut. 

“I am,” he says confidently, a slight hint of offense in his voice. “Professors here, however usually tend to their specific fields rather than branching off.” His fingers trace the spine of the dusty books before carefully selecting one and then another. 

“One of my students is infatuated by the correlation of the two. It’s something that I had no interest in during my years of studying.” The sound of you shuffling your feet bounces off the walls. “I’m forced to learn now I suppose.”

“Whatever for? You’re no physicist,” he scoffs.  His hand lingers around a book as he debates himself in his mind. 

“To answer my students' questions, of course,” you answer without a second thought. 

A genius interested in the pursuit of other’s knowledge. Ratio’s frustrations physically manifest in the form of a silent sigh.  An anomaly you were. An Irritating one at that. 

He picks up the book.  

He doesn’t say anything as he descends the ladder—or when he walks to where you stand with an uninterested look on his face. He simply plops the books in your hands with a quick “Here.” Their weight jolts you down briefly. 

“Some of these are limited or editor's copies.” His eyes meet yours for the first time since you came in. “Do try not to dirty them.”

He turns to walk back to his desk, but the sound of your voice stops him. 

“Which is your favorite?”

Ratio turns to walk back to you as he looks you up and down. His fingers fish between the books in your arms, and he pulls out one. It’s encased in golden leather. He lifts it up to hold it out in front of you. 

Your hand grazes the hardcover. You look at it, eying the author. ‘Professor Emeritus.’ You look up at him with a hint of playfulness in your eyes. It makes him uneasy—like the breath has been sucked out of his lungs. But then you have the nerve to smile at him, and he can feel himself getting hot. 

“Thank you,” you say, and you turn away. 

His mind races. His heart beats a bit faster. It’s only when the click of your heels are out of earshot and when the doctor is trying to recover in his desk chair that he realizes he’s forgotten to tell you when to bring them back. 

“...the only way to transcend the limitations of the individual is to have an academic network of mutual learning.”

- Intelligentsia Guild 

He ignores you. 

That’s not to say he doesn't see you. Of course, he does. How could one not see you? It has turned into a game over the past two weeks. He must spot you first to make sure you do not spot him. 

So he does just that. 

He has no use conversing with a Genius Society member turned idiot. He simply gave you those books to help the students you were teaching, nothing more. 

So he carries on with his usual routine of avoiding you. Until, there’s a pile of books with ribbon wrapped around them at his office door. But there’s only three of them. 

Ratio quickly picks up the stack of books and unlocks his office door. When at his desk, he finally notices the note placed neatly between the book and ribbon.  

Thank you for letting me borrow these. They were very insightful. I have saved your recommendation for last. I will bring it back once I have finished it.  

He examines your handwriting—your signature—and how the way you write your A’s and H’s differ from him. 

As Ratio revels in the fact that you took his word at face value, he examines the books. His fingers caress the covers and flip through the pages.  

You made sure not to dirty them. 

“To grow and excel as a Scholar is to reconsider. A Hypothesis that is drawn due to stubbornness and ignorance is a hypothesis from no mind worth listening to.” 

- Professor Emeritus in “Attentive Beings” 

“Come in,” Ratio replies to the three knocks on his study door. This time, he looks up from his reading as soon as he hears the heels click on the polished wooden floor. 

You smile at him—book held in hand. 

He greets you with another disinterested look as he turns his head back to the papers in front of him. “Did you enjoy it?” 

“I certainly did,” you call out. Although he doesn’t look at you, he can hear you walk slowly around his office. He lets out a sigh as he writes down something. 

But then your heels click too close to the round table by the window in the corner of his study, and his mouth grows dry. He looks up as he watches you eye the books he had left open on the table, and put the book you had borrowed down. Your fingernails graze the papers slowly, and you turn the page. 

“You read about me?”

Ratio’s throat closes up at your question as he scurries to organize the files and loose sheets of paper before him just to occupy his hands. He puts a fist to his lips and clears his throat. “I simply wanted to know more about the new Professor who would teach some of my former students,” he affirms boldly. 

“It’s okay.” your eyes lift up from the pages and turn to him with a smile. “I read about you too.” 

He’s not surprised. He shouldn’t be surprised. Any good scholar would do that. But something stirs inside him still. His stomach flips from…excitement. This odd feeling goes unnoticed by you as the doctor quickly covers himself with his swift response “Is that so?” 

“Mhm,” you hum. You grab the book and slowly make your way closer and closer to his desk—to him. “You’re quite the mathematician,” you smile. “…and philosopher.” 

His arms fold and his eyes trail your figure as you approach. 

“So tell me, after reading this thing.” You hold up the book. “What’s your ‘philosophy’ on me?” 

He sits there in silence looking at you. 

“Please, Doctor,” you smirk. “Tell us your verdict on the new professor.” 

He’s still hesitant. But the look you give him is like fire on his skin, and he wants to rid of it. So he speaks. “Fine, if you must know.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“You’re a fool. Through and through.”

“Is that so?”

“The evidence is clear.”

“Do elaborate, Doctor.” 

 He sighs again. What has he gotten himself into? “You’re an astronomer.” 

“That I am,” you smirk. Oh, he hates that smirk of yours. That smile of yours. That face of yours. 

“You’re an astronomer that hates physics.” Ratio stand subtly and makes his was round his desk to you. “Quite absurd actually.” He crosses his arms and you shift your body to look him in the eye. “You have no interest in anything mathematical when math is the foundation of all that ever was and will ever be.” 

“Mhmm.” And there’s that smirk again as you look up at him. 

“You’ve done mounds of research, and any organization would want you.” His voice is booming and stern as if he were lecturing one of his students. “Yet, you pick the IPC of all things to give your work to.” 

You're a star, you blaze. Yet you choose to be mediocre like him. It's infuriating.

You nod, and he takes a step closer to you. His brows furrow in frustration, and his finger points down at you. 

“And the cherry on top is that you’ve chosen to stray from the Erudition and-“

“Leave the genius Society,” you finish. 

Your voice strikes him. He flinches backward and his back stiffens. You’re toying with him. He wonders if it is something he’s opposed to. 

“Is that why you dislike me, Veritas?”

He’s opposed to it, he concludes. He steps back, and his arms go to his chest once more. “Dislike?” He lets out an exclaimed scoff. “I barely know you, Professor.” He lets the last word roll off his tongue like an insult. 

You hold up the book in your hands and read the title to yourself. ‘Exploring the Starlit Genius’ 

“Barely?” You ask. 

“Nonsense,” is all he can claim as he returns to his desk. 

You lean over it, your spread out hands creating a mess of his once neatly placed papers. “You make a conscious effort not to meet my eyes around here.”

Ever the observant one you were. But he denies it. “Our paths must have never crossed,” he explains. 

You tilt your head with a knowing look as you cross your arms. “Don’t lie Veritas.” 

A shiver goes down his spine. He doesn’t know if it's because it’s the first time he’s ever been called a liar or because you’ve just said his first name. It’s been a while since someone called him something other than “Doctor” or “Professor.” At least that's the quick excuse he can come up with on the spot to ease his jittery mind. 

He’s caught. He’s finally caught. So he defends his hypothesis. 

“I don’t like fools,” he states matter-a-factly. “I tend to stay away from them.” 

“But not from me?” 

Oh your tongue is clever. Not as clever as his, he reassures himself. 

“You seem to know a lot about me.” 

He’s red. He knows it. But he cant seem to find something to throw back at you. His quick wit is anywhere but in the present. 

“Is it because deep down you know I’m right?” Your face softens. 

He stays silent. 

“Out of all the literature about me, you’ve chosen that which  is not written by me.” You run your hands across the book's cover and place it neatly before him. “You’ve been reading the books with my name on them but have never picked up the ones that I myself created. Why is that?” You smile, but your face shows genuine perplexity. 

If he has an answer, he doesn’t tell you. He keeps it to himself. However, the question he asks in response is an answer in itself.

“Why did you leave?” His voice is low—broken even. 

Your smile turns into an expression filled with a touch of sadness. “You ask questions you know the answer to?”

“Don't you dare mock me,” he snaps.

“What else are fools good for?”

He’s silent as his lips purse in anger. There are a few beats before he responds. “Teaching.”

Your face lightens in surprise, and your original charming smile returns. 

He wants to know. He yearns to know. But when you finally give him his answer, he knows it will burn like fire. He’ll finally have a reason why the thing he fought so much for was not all it was chopped up to be. The younger years of his life–wasted to appease THEM—all for nothing. Although he had reached a place of contentment, there was a little boy still in him who wanted to keep his former fantasy alive. 

“The Erudition is something that consumes people as do all Aeons. You know this, right Professor?” 

What you say is common sense. He gives you no answer or satisfaction. But he continues to listen attentively. 

“All intelligent minds are selfish to some extent. The genius society is filled with people who will pursue knowledge regardless of the people hurt. This includes themselves.In order to be a person of pure logic—a genius…” You pause for a second. “…you must lack empathy to some extent.”

You turn to meet him, and he swears he’s never seen any eyes more beautiful and full of honesty than yours. “And I have too much.”

And then, at your words, something clicks in his brain. 

Another smile takes over your lips as you face your body towards him. “And I believe you have more than you let on, Doctor.”

He’s in silence. 

He says nothing because he can’t say something. 

You walk around to the other side of his desk where he sits. His eyes follow your ever move while you do so. Your hand unlocks the clasp of your satchel and disappears inside. When it comes out, a book appears before him. 

He takes it in his hands tenderly and then looks at the title. ‘Philosophy of the Stars,’ he reads to himself. Then his eyes wander to the bottom of the cover, and there’s your name printed in gold. He looks up at you expectantly. 

Of course, when his eyes land on your face, your expression is full of glee. “If you wish to learn more about me, I hope you’ll do so through a book with all of my own words.”

You say nothing more as you turn on your heels and leave his office. Leaving Ratio with a feeling of shock and emptiness. 

His hand comes up to his face, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sits there in silence and realizes…

You are none of what he had made you out to be…

Not a fool. Not an idiot. Not a genius. 

But a kind soul. 

He realizes that he was good enough. That he was not a fool either. Just a young boy who cared. 

His eyes linger on the book you left him— the book that his hands refuse to put down. He opens it to the very first page, and he finds your writing in it and a note that slips out on his lap. 

For the mediocre Dr. Veritas Ratio. 

Your name is signed as elegantly as before. He puts down the book on his desk and picks up the folded note on his lap. 

Feel free to dirty this. But keep it clean if you wish to auction it. It will be worth more with both our names on it, so don’t undersell. It is yours to do with as you please.   

One thing Veritas knows for sure is that this book won’t leave his possession in all his years to come. 

“THEIR silence was deafening.”

- Genius Society–Erudition, Astral Express Data Bank

Dr. Ratio is sharp, precise, and calculated. He considers himself to be all those things; he is a needle. 

But if Dr. Veritas Ratio is a needle, then you are a pin. 

ty for reading. reblogs are appreciated <3