#Sunspot Symphony

[hy-chu]

His name is Sunspot but he still enjoys time in the rain

Still refining his design and figuring out how I want his face to look in my style

[moonlitmistyforest]

Claude Monet - Women in the Garden, c. 1866 oil on canvas, 255 x 205 cm Musée d'Orsay

In 1866, Claude Monet began painting a huge picture in the garden of his rented house in the suburbs of Paris. He faced several challenges: he was painting in the open air, so the canvas had to be lowered into the ditch with the help of a disc, so that he could also work on the upper part of the composition without changing his point of view. His goal was to fit the figures into the landscape, creating the impression that air and light were moving around them. Monet solved this by painting shadows filtering through foliage, colored light, sunspots, and faint reflections.

He left the faces blurred, so they cannot be called portraits. Camille, the artist's partner, stood (or sat) as a model for the three female figures. Monet skillfully reproduces the whiteness of the clothes, firmly anchored in the structure of the composition - a symphony of greens and browns - provided by the tree and path in the center. The painting completed in the studio was rejected by the jury of the Salon of 1867, they disliked the theme and the narrative, and also disapproved of the brush strokes visible to the naked eye, as this was considered a sign of carelessness and incompleteness. According to one of the jurors, "Too many young men think of nothing else but to continue in this hideous direction. It's time to protect them and save art!"

[gautam-101]

Celestial Symphony: Unveiling the Cosmic Choreography - The Role of Planets in Weather Patterns

Introduction

The enigmatic dance of celestial bodies has fascinated humanity for centuries, weaving narratives of destiny and influencing realms beyond the scope of astrology. Among its myriad impacts, the role of planets in shaping weather patterns stands as a testament to the interconnectedness of cosmic forces. As these celestial entities traverse their orbits, their cosmic energies intertwine, influencing atmospheric conditions, and orchestrating meteorological phenomena on Earth.

Unveiling the intricate connections between planetary movements and weather patterns requires delving into the cosmic symphony orchestrated by the planets. From the scorching radiance of the sun to the ethereal pull of distant gas giants, each planetary entity exerts a unique influence on Earth’s weather tapestry. Understanding these cosmic interplays not only sheds light on meteorological mysteries but also invites contemplation on the boundless complexity of the universe.

Also read - Exploring the Intriguing Connection: Numerology and Astrology

The Sun, Moon, and Planetary Influences:

At the heart of this celestial choreography stands the Sun, the radiant nucleus dictating Earth's climate cycles. Its radiant energy fuels atmospheric dynamics, steering wind patterns, and governing temperature variations. The solar cycles, marked by sunspots and solar flares, cast their far-reaching effects, influencing Earth’s climate over extended periods.

In tandem with the Sun, the Moon, though smaller in scale, exerts a profound influence through its gravitational pull. The lunar phases, tides, and atmospheric pressure fluctuations all bear the lunar fingerprint, intertwining with weather patterns across the globe. The alignment of the Earth, Moon, and Sun during eclipses further underscores their synergistic impact on atmospheric conditions.

Beyond these luminaries, the planets of our solar system - Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune - each contribute their distinct energies to the atmospheric symphony. Their gravitational pulls, magnetic fields, and orbital eccentricities form a cosmic ballet that subtly molds weather patterns. From Venus' atmospheric pressure influencing terrestrial air movements to Jupiter’s immense mass impacting the solar wind, the planetary ensemble shapes Earth's meteorological canvas.

Chat here: Chat with astrologer online

Planetary Alignments and Weather Anomalies:

Periodic alignments and configurations of planets create celestial symmetries that reverberate through Earth’s atmosphere, occasionally triggering weather anomalies. Planetary conjunctions, oppositions, and retrogrades produce subtle yet palpable effects on weather patterns. While these effects may not adhere to deterministic laws, correlations between specific planetary configurations and unusual weather phenomena have been observed.

Saturn’s opposition, for instance, occasionally aligns with extreme weather events on Earth, contributing to atmospheric disturbances. Similarly, Jupiter’s position relative to Earth has shown correlations with shifts in jet streams, influencing storm tracks and precipitation patterns. However, discerning precise causal relationships between planetary alignments and weather anomalies remains an ongoing pursuit within meteorological studies.

Conclusion

The celestial ballet of planets, intertwined with Earth’s atmospheric symphony, remains a subject of both fascination and inquiry. While the correlations between planetary movements and weather patterns continue to be explored, their subtle influence on Earth’s meteorological dynamics cannot be dismissed. Recognizing the interconnectedness of cosmic forces opens avenues for deeper comprehension of weather phenomena, transcending the boundaries of conventional meteorology.

The role of planets in weather patterns stands as a testament to the intricate web of cosmic interplays, urging us to contemplate the harmonious convergence of celestial energies shaping our terrestrial existence. As humanity continues to gaze skyward, seeking to decipher the celestial language, the enigmatic relationship between planets and weather patterns remains an eternal enigma waiting to be unveiled by the curious minds of tomorrow.

Have any questions? Speak with an astrologer: Download the App Now

[blogs0728]

Navigating Delhi's best Skin Care Clinics for Excellence

1. Elevating Skin Excellence: The Artistry of Aesthetic Interventions Unveiled

Embark on a journey through a symphony of aesthetic treatments meticulously designed to enhance skin appearance and well-being:

Chemical Elegance: Experts skillfully apply chemical peels, adeptly addressing concerns such as acne scars, pigmentation, and fine lines.

Microdermabrasion Ballet: Delicately refining the skin's surface, this treatment targets mild acne scars, sun damage, and enhances overall texture.

Laser Harmony: Diverse lasers cater to specific skincare needs, spanning from hair removal and scar reduction to wrinkle treatment and texture enhancement.

Dermal Opulence: Injectable fillers add volume, plumping the skin while minimizing wrinkles and lines.

Botox Choreography: Injectables like Botox and Dysport expertly relax facial muscles, diminishing wrinkles and fine lines, gaining popularity in skincare treatments.

Microdermabrasion  Symphony: This procedure artfully stimulates collagen and elastin production, enhancing texture and firmness through minuscule needles.

Radiofrequency Serenade: A non-invasive treatment artfully promoting collagen production, tightening the skin, and reducing wrinkles.

Cryotherapy Sonata: Freezing targeted areas becomes a serenade addressing various concerns, including warts, skin tags, and specific lesions.

Conducted by skilled skincare professionals and dermatologists, these treatments adeptly target unique skincare concerns, elevating both skin appearance and overall health.

2. Guarding Radiant Skin Amidst Delhi's Pollution: Unraveling the Essential Role of Skincare

Explore the imperative significance of skincare in Delhi's challenging climate, marked by heightened pollution and dust levels:

Pollution's Onslaught: Delhi battles severe air pollution containing fine particulate matter, toxins, and free radicals. These infiltrate the skin, fostering premature aging, dullness, and irritation.

Skin Defense Erosion: Prolonged exposure to pollutants erodes the skin's protective barrier, heightening sensitivity, dryness, and inflammation. This vulnerability increases susceptibility to infections and allergies.

Time's Accelerated Pace: Pollution triggers the breakdown of collagen and elastin, hastening the aging process. Fine lines, wrinkles, and diminished elasticity become prominent without diligent skincare.

UV Radiation Synergy: Delhi's climate combines pollution with intense UV radiation exposure, amplifying skin damage and ushering in sunspots, hyperpigmentation, and an escalated risk of skin cancer.

Cleansing Rituals: Robust skincare routines efficiently purge the skin of pollutants, dirt, and daily toxins. Regular cleansing prevents pore congestion, allowing the skin to breathe.

Shield and Mend: Effective skincare involves products infused with antioxidants and protective elements, shielding the skin from pollution-induced damage and aiding in barrier repair.

Hydration Oasis: Amid pollution-induced dehydration, hydrating the skin is paramount. Moisturizers and serums laden with hydrating agents sustain skin health and resilience.

Proactive Defense: Tailoring skincare routines to combat pollution becomes a preventive strategy, warding off enduring damage and upholding a resilient skin barrier.

In Delhi's demanding milieu, a robust skincare routine transcends aesthetics; it's a prerequisite for safeguarding skin health against pollution, dust, and environmental stressors.

Top 3 Skin Care Clinics in Delhi:

1. The Face Centre - 3rd Floor, 41, Ring Rd, Block Q, Lajpat Nagar 4, New Delhi – 110024 The Face Centre is a top notch skin care clinic in Delhi, a profound dedication to patient well-being is at the heart of every facet of their operations. Dr. Sardesai and his proficient team adhere unwaveringly to a patient-first approach, evident from the moment one steps into the clinic. The ambiance is carefully curated to instill tranquility and comfort, with serene images in the waiting room, all captured by the skilled hands of Dr. Sardesai himself.

What sets The Face Centre apart from top skin care clinic in delhi is the personalized care extended to each individual who walks through its doors. Dr. Sardesai's attentive approach and the adept staff's dedication ensure that every patient receives unparalleled attention and support throughout their journey within the clinic.

The primary goal is to provide the highest quality services, ensuring that every patient leaves with a sense of satisfaction and contentment. The clinic boasts top-grade equipment and services, reflecting their commitment to excellence in every procedure they undertake. Not limited to just aesthetic enhancements, The Face Centre also specializes in addressing ear, nose, and throat concerns, offering a holistic approach to overall well-being.

Choosing The Face Centre one of the best skin care clinics in delhi, isn't solely about seizing aesthetic opportunities; it's about entrusting oneself to a haven of comprehensive care, where expertise meets compassion, and where patients confidently put their best face forward, assured of outstanding service and support. At The Face Centre, under Dr. Sardesai's expertise, a blend of art and science defines their aesthetic treatments. From microneedling and chemical peels to renowned Fire & Ice Facials and advanced laser therapies, each procedure is meticulously curated for optimal results. The clinic offers a range of transformative treatments like skin boosters, fillers, and IV drip stations, enhancing natural beauty while addressing various skin concerns. Dr. Sardesai's commitment to precision and patient-centric care makes The Face Centre a haven for those seeking artful yet scientifically sound aesthetic enhancements.

2. Berkowits Hair and Skin Clinic - Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh

With 27+ years of expertise, Berkowits Hair and Skin Clinic pioneers enter the list of best skin care clinic in Delhi they have result-driven treatments. Introducing India's first Permanent Hair Removal and Robotic Hair Transplant, their dermatologist-formulated products cover diverse concerns like hair loss, aging, and skin care. They advocate eco-friendly practices, offering an Anytime Hydration cream in reusable aluminum cans, supporting NGOs tackling ocean plastic waste.

3. La Fameux Derma - Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh

La Fameux Derma, is the most trusted skin care clinic in Delhi NCR and a renowned name in clinical and cosmetic dermatology, excels as Noida's leading skin specialist. Their holistic treatment plans, using cutting-edge tools, cater to various skin and hair concerns. Renowned for transparency and results, their experienced team sets them apart, offering unparalleled care and commitment, make them qualify for our top skin care clinic in Delhi region.

Summary:

Discover Best Skin Care Clinics in Delhi  addressing diverse skincare needs. From The Face Centre's holistic approach to Radiant Clinic's confidence-boosting care, each clinic excels in delivering expertise and results. Skinfinity, La Fameux Derma, and Berkowits pioneer innovative treatments, emphasizing holistic well-being. These top Skin Care Clinics in Delhi offer advanced skincare, redefining excellence in skincare solutions.

[sunnydayjackass]

sunny day jack face riding hcs?

This came out as reader being afab if that's okay? If not, feel free to resubmit with specifics and I'll do a whole nother batch. NSFW under the cut

When I tell you this man's face is goddamn pleasure throne, I fucking mean it. Jack eats you out like a man starved but when you're perched on your face? You're in for a goddamn ride.

If you're at all hesitant, the worry of suffocating him? Nah baby, if he could die again-this would be the best way to go out-crushed between your thighs with the taste of your cum glossed over his lips and nectar on his tongue

You're in the midst of it, body ablaze under Jack's touch, needy and keening for pleasure and release. And Jack will give it to you-in time. He's not much one for quickies, preferring to take his time with you, prepping you, teasing you, edging you...he adores the symphony of sinful sounds he's able to pull from your lips

When Jack rolls over onto his back, you immediately shoot back up to chase him, begging him not to tease you like this. Large hands smooth over your waist, giving you a gentle nudge and guidance, "I...want to taste you...like this." Carefully the pair of you maneuver with your knees on either side of his head and your hands clutching the headboard before gingerly lowering your dripping cunt to Jack's eager mouth.

He meets you halfway with an enthusiasm that sends jolts through you and has you anchoring your hips down as his nose brushes against your clit for a shockwave of pleasure to your core. An almost embarrassing cry leaves your throat and it spurns him further.

Should you try to lift yourself, Jack's grip remains firm on your waist or hips to keep you in place on his face. Once you start gyrating on him, eager for more of that miraculous tongue of his, Jack's hands will instead go to grope at your ass to coax those movements and push you closer to the end.

Jack alternates deftly between laving lovingly at your clit, suckling the swollen bud and delicately scraping his teeth against it, only to switch to tongue fucking you, eager to collect your sweet honey and prod at that certain bundle of nerves that has your thighs clenching around his head. The way he sees it, he isn't doing a good enough job until you're teary and fisting his hair, bucking against his face to chase release with your inhibitions blown away

He LOVES this view of you, absolutely fucking debauched and lost in pleasure and this position is another that lets him feel, observe, and taste your desperation, again though- he takes his time. Everytime he can tell you're close, the way your walls spasm and twitch around his tongue, how your thighs lock up around him, the sharp arch of your back or hunching over to press your weight onto his mouth for more friction...Jack will stop in favor to press kisses along your slick sticky thighs

"Mmmmnh...You're sweet as honey, Sunshine." "Look at you, (Name)...hngg...dripping...it feels good right? This is how much I love you~." "I could do this for hours...hah~ you're sweeter than syrup." "What do you want, Sunspot? Tell me...use me...I'm all yours. Always." And it's always in that soft low timbre that's so sultry it sends a shudder down your spine. But you have to answer if you want to claim your assigned seat again.

A beg, a plea, confirmation, and answer of these questions naturally will give you the relief you so crave, Jack voraciously lapping at your sopping sex, perhaps even daring to prod at you with his fingers, crooking them just so that you're fucking his face with reckless abandon at being so deliciously stimulated. Or he might reach to stroke his own cock, rock hard at being able to bring you to euphoria with his mouth alone- he has zero qualms with cumming in his hand while you use him to completion.

The cycle repeats until, like I said, your hands are fisted in his hair, a babbly lust laden mess in complete debauched disarray. Jack wants you needy and desperate for him, he just adores being needed by you, having you flushed and keening praise and his name from your lips as your pussy throbs and drools lewdly under the tracings and thrusting of his tongue and the suction of his shapely lips.

Cumming isn't the end for you, even as your body slackens and your knees and thighs relax around his skull. Jack's grip on you doesn't cease until he's tasted every last drop of your sweet essence no matter your whimpers and mewls of stimulation, it's another sight Jack wants tattooed into the folds of his brain. The beautiful way in which you come undone- how your head falls and your lips parted, the way your lashes flutter as your eyes threaten to roll back into your skull as your pussy quivers with the cresendo of your orgasm.

Even after, while you're whimpering and mewling from overstimulation- you're done when Jack is sated and you've been thoroughly cleaned by his tongue. Your body feels boneless and like jelly as Jack helps you back down to lay in bed. His lips and cheeks glossed over by your slick that he shamelessly collects with his digits as not to waste so much of a drop and god, if that doesn't send heat back down to your core as he moans around his own fingers.

Leaning down to press a kiss to you, murmuring how good you did, how divine you taste- you can taste yourself on his lips and you dont want to let go of him. The pair of you are in this greedy little cycle, both wanting more of each other until exhausted and spent. "Oh, Sunshine...if you wanted more, all you had to do was say so." Jack purrs against you lovingly.

Tomorrow you'll have to get an uber for work. But worth it.

[utterlyinevitable]

Ethan saying I love you during sex? 😅

L-O-V-E

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca Lao) Rating: Mature/Light NSFW Summary: Ethan doesn’t plan to say the fated words. They just slip out in the heat of the moment.  Trope: Domestic; In Love

A/N: this took waaay too long to write and i’m still not happy with it. i may or may not have overcomplicated it.... 

__________________

He didn't mean to say it out loud. It just happened. Manifesting and spilling off his tongue like the endless stream of Eden.

And he’s in Eden now. 

She smells fresh against his crisp cotton sheets; like orange and peony and paradise. Becca’s dark curls cascading across his pillows. Every dream he has of her never can compare to the true deity. Ethan feels her supple skin, stretchmarks and sunspots and all, warm against his. His thumb caressing the birthmark at her ribs. And she arches under him, wriggles to get impossibly closer. Her lips deliciously parted and cheeks flushed. A symphony of breathy moans music to his ears. 

She’s vulnerable and bare before him and better than the clear endless blue sky happily drowns his bedroom in the lustful glow. The sun shining. Rays pouring through the large, open windows. Yet all Ethan can see is her. 

She’s everything. 

He knows that now. Now and for longer than he could admit. 

He’s placing sultry, open-mouthed kisses down her chest, hears her whimpers for more as his tongue swirls around her nipple. Feels her hands rake up his back, nails gloriously scratching - marking him. Then one fisting in the sheets, the other his hair as his hips roll against hers. Arms swiftly wrapping around his neck, crashing him into a frantic kiss. 

Ten days is too long without her. 

He thought about her every day; worry, hopes, and rampant thoughts taking turns for his full attention. Ethan Ramsey had way too much time to think about this woman... He especially thought about what their reunion would be like.

And it's every and more.

Becca’s teeth drag across his kiss-swollen lip and his mind goes blank. Delirious. All he think is to pull back - plants wanton kisses to her cheek and neck, as much of her as he can reach as he braces his arms on either side of her head. Their heavy breaths mingling. 

Her eyes are open, heavy lidded, and Ethan swears she sees into his soul. 

A wave rushes over him.

He says it as he's deep to the hilt, fast as he bucks to chase the feeling. He’s ragged, panting, the words expel with breath on the firmest thrust. 

As soon as they slip out the tidal has calmed and Ethan realizes what he’s said. His pace slows as his mind tries to rationalize the foreignness of this moment. He wishes his mouth wasn’t at the shell of her ear. Ethan hopes he's driven her to the point of distraction - where she can't focus on one thing that isn't his body in hers. Coherent thoughts rendered impossible. By the way she's clenching he hopes she’s close - so close she can’t acknowledge anything but the imminent winding at her core. 

Maybe she didn't notice, maybe...

Her hands reach out, one set of fingers carding through his hair and the other pushing his shoulder back so she can look at him. And the words come with it. Bated, breathy, a whisper he may not have caught if his cheek wasn't pressed into hers.

"I love you too."

____________________

a/n: happy 4th wedding anniversary to me and cam! this ily may or may not be based on a true story ;)

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

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[mayfairs]

the dreams you've been burying alive start to dig each other up in the dead at night (billie dean howard x audrey tindall)

wc 1248 

“Bill?”

“Yes?”

“...Can you scratch my back, please?”

---

“Billie?”

Rustling. A quiet groan.

“Billie, wake up. Billie.”

Audrey tapped at her partner’s shoulder incessantly, heartbeat hammering in her throat. Everything felt very, very small, and Billie felt so far away, and she was alone, and she couldn’t see, and--

“Billie, please wake up,” she whined, and it hurt her to have to wake the medium, who’d spent all day working and the evening cooking dinner and tending to Audrey, who’d simply just had a bad day. “Billie, I’m scared.”

She changed her tapping to rubbing. Moved so that her body was cradling Billie’s from behind, head tucked into the back of her neck. Inhale. Exhale.

Cigarettes and coffee and mint. Sage. Something else, something very distinctly Billie Dean. Savory and long-lasting.

She stayed like that for a long time. She wasn’t sure what time it was; only that it was dark outside, and the curtains weren’t as thick as she remembered them being when Billie had asked her to pick them out, and she could see some kind of shadow peeking out from the side. Her fingers clutched Billie’s shoulder like her life depended on it. Which it did, kind of, right then. Billie, her anchor. Her most humble helper.

“Baby?”

Audrey felt Billie move in front of her, shoulder blade twitching, muscle rolling in her back as she reached over. Click. Light. She’d turned the lamp on and Audrey could see, finally. She’d been mumbling. Bad habit. Right into Billie Dean’s shoulder, drool all over it, crescent moons in her skin where Audrey’s nails had been.

“Bill,” she breathed, making enough room for the other to turn around. There she was. Long, loose curls and tired eyes, but a face that showed concern regardless. “I’m sorry. I got scared, I don’t know what happened, I think I may have had a bad dream but I just can’t remember, and…”

“It’s okay,” Billie Dean sighed and rubbed her eyes. “It’s okay, pumpkin. Come here.”

Audrey moved towards her again and pressed herself into Billie. Curled up into a ball. Billie’s arms wrapped around her figure, and her lips littered tender kisses to the crown of Audrey’s head.

“Bill?”

“Yes?”

“...Can you scratch my back, please?”

Billie’s hum vibrated deep against Audrey’s cheek. She dragged the hem of Audrey’s nightgown up along her back until it rested, bunched, at her shoulders. A little bit of readjusting. Billie’s acrylic nails gliding smoothly along her freckled back, tracing over sunspots and moles and the faint ridges of her spine, soothing the tension into nothingness. Always perfect.

Audrey kept her eyes open. Billie’s fingers moved in a discreet figure eight on her skin: start between the shoulder blades, curl down to the hip, twist to the opposite hip, and back up again. After a while, the motion became almost hypnotic. Across, over, up, over, across. Over Billie’s shoulder, Audrey watched the shadow in the window sway to the rhythm of her girlfriend’s breathing. In, out. Side to side. Slow, quiet, and then a big crescendo, a sigh. A symphony of its own. She thought of opera houses and string concerts. Dancing on balconies. A night flawless without effort.

“Billie?”

“Mhm…”

Audrey pushed herself up until she was just about eye-level with her. Searched Billie’s face for signs of annoyance -- not that she would have been able to tell, anyway.

“Can we dance, please?”

Billie opened one eye. Twisted, craned her neck to peek at the clock on the nightstand.

“Babydoll, it’s two-fifty-five in the morning.”

“Just for a few minutes, please, Billie Dean?”

“Okay,” Billie whispered, eyebrows raising as she attempted to wake herself up just a little bit more. Audrey was up and out of the bed before Billie had even finished stretching. The overhead light flickered on with a surge. Their house -- Billie’s house -- was old. Very, very old, with rickety flooring and wood-paneled walls and a rustic, chilly feel to it. Creaks in the walls. The house lived and breathed alongside Billie Dean, and she found comfort in it, a kind of safe haven for herself, but Audrey despised it. Wanted a modern home with glass walls, or a British-styled cottage somewhere far away.

Audrey padded quietly to the far side of the room where Billie kept vinyls stored neatly in a cabinet. Picked one out, set it on the player and carefully adjusted the needle. Sinatra. She heard Billie chuckle quietly over her shoulder, and she turned, tongue pressed to the back of her teeth as she grinned.

“Is this one good, I--? I don’t think I’ve ever really listened to Sinatra.” She touched her fingers to the side of her head in vague distress, and Billie, who’d finally made her way over, took her wrist and kissed her knuckles in quiet reassurance.

“It’s perfect, don’t worry about it. Come here.”

She pulled Audrey into her, rested her hands on Audrey’s waist. Smiled softly when arms wrapped nimbly around her neck.

“I love the way you sound,” Billie said, tucking her nose against Audrey’s cheek. Sinatra in the background. The hum of the house all around them, surrounding them on four sides. Some level of home in a place that corners you, some kind of Stockholm’s. For Audrey, at least.

“You only like me because I’m British,” Audrey replied, brows knitting as she suppressed a smile. Fear forgotten and completely discarded, thrown over her shoulder to make way for Billie Dean. Just Billie.

“That’s not true. I like you for other things, sweetie.”

“Oh, really? Like what?” I dare you, Billie Dean Howard, I dare you to go there right now. That’s what she wanted to say. What she felt she was saying with her eyes.

“I think that you’re the most beautiful woman,” Billie breathes instead, the words floating lightly on the current of her exhale, “Every single part of you.” There was a pause where Audrey let the words settle deep in her chest, spreading out like blue fire through her limbs, and Billie nuzzled into the side of her face. “O, that I were a glove upon that hand,” she whispered, “That I might touch that cheek.”

Audrey’s entire face rippled just slightly, and she yanked herself away from Billie Dean almost entirely, hands resting delicately on her shoulders. “Bill… Did you just quote Shakespeare?”

“I think so.”

Audrey watched her face contort into one of sheepish pleasure, and she leaned in to press a kiss to her lips. “Where did you learn that, darling? You’ve never done that before.”

“I saw it when we had lunch the other day. On your page.” Billie blushed, a smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth. “I don’t really know what it means, but it sounded pretty.”

“Maybe you should start taking Shakespeare to your book club, silly.” Audrey kissed her again. And again. And once more. Their rhythm had been tossed off of its hinges, and they were swaying aimlessly in the middle of the floor, the vinyl record clicking absently behind them.

“Maybe.” Billie closed her eyes and let a content smile rest upon her face. “If I get enough sleep, I’ll think about it.”

“Right. Sorry.” Audrey brushed her thumb over Bill’s smile. Let their noses rub together for a moment or two, their swaying slowing to a halt. “I think I can sleep now.”

“You’ll wake me up if you need me again, though, right?”

“I will, Billie Dean.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

---

you can find all of my stuff on my ao3 here

[iamtryingtobelieve]

A Ranking of NIN Songs

Back in the day, I used to have a page on my blog which showed my favourite top 5 NIN tracks from each album. I decided to resurrect things because why not.

I’ll be just doing the main studio albums with a dedicated section at the bottom for remixes/b-sides/rare tracks/the works. So enough bullshit, let’s dive in

Also, yes I’m kinda of stealing the idea of the anon who sent a few NIN blogs a “Best of Trent” playlist ask so consider this my contribution

Pretty Hate Machine (1989)

5- Kinda I Want To

4- Down in It

3- Sanctified

2- Ringfinger

1- Sin

Broken (1992)

5- Help Me I Am In Hell

4- Happiness In Slavery

3- Suck

2- Physical (You’re So)

1- Gave Up

The Downward Spiral (1994)

5- Reptile

4- Ruiner

3- Eraser

2- A Warm Place

1- The Becoming

The Fragile (1999)

5- The Big Comedown

4- Somewhat Damaged

3- Underneath It All

2- Into The Void

1- The Great Below

Still (2002)

5- Gone, Still

4- Adrift and At Peace

3- The Persistence of Loss

2- Leaving Hope

1- And All That Could Have Been

With Teeth (2005)

5- The Collector

4- The Line Begins To Blur

3- Home

2- Right Where It Belongs

1- Sunspots

Year Zero (2007)

5- The Good Soldier

4- My Violent Heart

3- God Given

2- The Great Destroyer

1- In This Twilight

The Slip (2008)

5- Echoplex

4- 1,000,000

3- Lights In The Sky

2- Head Down

1- Discipline

Ghosts I-IV (2008)

5-8 Ghosts I

4- 28 Ghosts IV 

3- 15 Ghosts II

2- 31 Ghosts IV

1- 37 Ghosts

Hesitation Marks (2013)

5 - Everything

4-  Running

3- All Time Low

2- In Two

1- While I’m Still Here/Black Noise

Not The Actual Events (2016)

5- Dear World

4-  She’s Gone Away

3- Burning Bright (Field on Fire)

2- Branches/Bones

1- The Idea of You

Add Violence (2017)

5- Not Anymore

4- The Lovers

3- Less Than

2- The Background World

1- This Isn’t The Place

Bad Witch (2018)

5- Over and Out

4- Shit Mirror

3- God Break Down The Door

2- I’m Not From This World

1- Ahead of Ourselves

Ghosts V - Together (2020)

5- Letting Go While Still Holding On

3- Apart

4- With Faith

2- Still Right Here

1- Hope We Can Again

2- Another Crashed Car

Ghosts VI - Locusts (2020)

5- When It Happens (Don’t Mind Me)

4 - Run Like Hell

3- The Worriment Waltz

1- Almost Dawn

Honourable Mentions (B-sides/Side Projects/Scores and Others)

Fashion

Burn

Theme to Call of Duty: Black Ops 2

Screaming Slave

Hand Covers Bruise

Slipping Away

The Great Collapse

The Art of Self Destruction Part One

Closer to God

Memorabilia

Deep

Atmosphere

The Space In Between

Fur Lined

Strings and Attractors

Ice Age

The Loop Closes

A Minute to Breathe

What If We Could?

Immigrant Song (Ft. Karen O)

Supernaut (with 1000 Homo DJs)

Babysitter (With Tobacco)

Past The Mission (with Tori Amos)

John Carpenter’s Halloween

Non-Entity

Metal

I’m Afraid of Americans

Stone Cold Crazy (Trent Reznor Remix)

Symphony of Destruction (Gristle Mix)

The Way It Used To Be

Nun With a Motherfucking Gun

Life on Mars?

Lincoln Tunnel

Quake Theme

Driver Down

The Perfect Drug

Technically, Missing

Aphelion

Oraculum

Escape

Lapdance (Remix)

[plumeriaheart]

in your arms [diavolo/f!oc]

Hey guys, I finally finished the first commission from my current batch! This was my first time writing for Diavolo, and I’ll be honest: I really struggled to find his voice, seeing as how I usually only write for the seven brothers - but once I found a voice that seemed to fit, writing this was a lot of fun! I hope it’s just as fun to read. 💞

Thank you so much to @demonboysandlotsoftoys for commissioning me, and also for your patience! I hope I was able to do your OC and your vision justice. If there’s anything at all that you’re unhappy with, do let me know so I can make sure to fix it for you! 💞

FANDOM: Obey Me!

RATING: nsfw, 18+

KINKS: dirty talk

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

.

.

She finds somber thoughts looming over her more often than not, a weight on her chest that Blaise can’t seem to explain. A sense of dread that threatens to overwhelm her, and though she tries to hide it from the people around her, they are far too observant to be fooled for long -- perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise, she wonders.

“You’ve got your head in the clouds again, Sunspot,” a voice calls out to her, snapping her back to reality. With heat-flushed cheeks, she looks up to find the demon prince next to her; a smile laced with concern gracing his features. 

“Is it that obvious?” Blaise responds, turning to face Diavolo. 

“I’m afraid so. Say, are you unhappy here?” His smile begins to fade, replaced by a more worried expression now. It pains him to even consider this possibility, and a part of him begins to think of ways to counter her mood. 

Is that what it seems like to the demons around her? Her stay at the devildom has been the best time of her life, she’d say; a place filled with people who care about her. Not only has she made an abundance of new friends, but she has also found love -- in the most unexpected of places. When she looks at her boyfriend, her heart aches at his worried expression. How could she ever be unhappy when the last few months had brought her nothing but joy? 

“What? No, not at all! I’ve never been as happy as I have been since the exchange program started!” Her words come out more exasperated than she expects, but upon hearing them, Diavolo’s frown disappears.

“Is that so? Maybe you should just stay here forever, what do you think?” Though his question is meant as a joke -- for the most part, at least -- it knocks the air right out of her lungs.

‘Stay here forever.’ She replays the words in her mind, realising that she would love nothing more. Nothing worthwhile is waiting for her back in the human realm. Bills, deadlines, loneliness… None of which she would have to worry about if she could just remain here. 

“Ah, was my joke out of line? You know I would never want to force you to do something against your will, Aisey--” 

“No!” She almost shouts, shaking her head. “No, that’s… That’s not it, Diavolo.” Torn between wanting to look at him and feeling abashed about her sudden outburst, the girl starts to play with the hem of her shirt.

“Then what is it?” Large hands cup both of her cheeks, gently raising her head to look into her eyes. “You know you can tell me anything, my dear,” he says, giving her an encouraging smile. She can see the patience in his gaze, feel the love in his careful touch, sending a wave of comfort through her body.

“I’m just wondering… Do you really mean what you said? Would you… Really want me to stay here, even after the exchange program is over?” Blaise’s voice is low, careful, as if anything but a whisper might expose this to be nothing but a dream -- and if it is, she’d rather not wake up so soon. 

“Of course I would! To wake up to your beautiful face every morning sounds like a dream come true. What could be more wonderful than that?” Nothing but pure joy radiates from the demon prince as he pictures a future with Blaise. “I would want nothing more than that, my dear, but only if it’s what you want as well.”

His words bring tears to her eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I… I think I’d like that, too,” she whispers with a nod, only for Diavolo to cup her face in his hands. Running his thumbs along her cheekbones slowly, catching the tears that threaten to spill, he leans down to press his lips against hers. Warmth spreads through her body, a fire inside of her chest ignited by his fierce and loving lips. When he pulls away, Blaise finds herself leaning forward almost by instinct, longing for more than just a small taste. Diavolo chuckles, a grin on his lips. He sees the glimmer in her eyes, the hunger for more -- who is he to deny her? He feels the same desire stir deep within him when he looks at her. 

“If you’d like, I could show you a glimpse of what every night in the devildom would look like if you stayed by my side…” The demon prince suggests, drawing out each word in a low voice, and upon seeing another flush on the girl’s cheeks, he smirks. “Come on.” Without missing a beat, he scoops Blaise up in his arms to carry her back to his room, feeling the fire inside of his chest burn hotter with each step. 

“So you have thought about it before?” Blaise inquires, her fingertips tracing little hearts on his chest as she studies his features. 

“I have, sunspot. So many times,” he replies, casting a lustful gaze down at her. She feels his heartbeat quicken beneath her touch, a testament to his words. “I’ve thought about what it would be like to go to bed with you every night, and to wake with you in my arms. But when I think about you in my bed, I can’t help but let my thoughts wander.” 

“And you have not shared your thoughts with me? How rude of you, Dee.”

“I simply thought it would be more fun to show you -- if you’ll have me.” Though every word of his is dripping with pleasure, he is careful as he shuts the door to his bedroom and sits her down on his bed. 

“You can have all of me.” 

That’s all it takes for the demon to join her on the bed, pushing her down ever so gently before his lips are pressed against hers. His hands roam the sides of her body, soon enough finding their way to the hem of her shirt, and he lets out a delighted hum when he hears Blaise sigh against his mouth. There’s a tentativeness in his touch as he pushes her shirt further up, only breaking the kiss to remove it entirely. He takes a few seconds to appreciate the sight in front of him, taking in every inch of her exposed skin while he unbuttons his own shirt.

“In all my years, I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you,” Diavolo says, leaning down to kiss her once more. She arches her back, pressing her body against his and lets out a moan when his heat infects her, spreading through her limbs, her mind foggy with desire. Distracted by the kiss, Blaise barely notices one of his hands moving down to her pants, only letting out a choked moan when he palms her clothed core. Her hips buck upwards on their own, pleading for more, and the demon is more than happy to oblige by slipping his hand beneath the fabric of her clothes. 

“You’re already wet for me, Aisey… Are you that excited for me to fuck you?” He hums, fingertips slick with her need, circling her clit agonisingly slow. 

“You know, you’re not the only one who thought about this,” she breathes, eyes shut to savour the pleasure. 

“No? Then I have to make sure to live up to your expectations.” With that, he pulls his hand away to pull down her pants and underwear in one swift movement; instinctively, she tries to close her legs only for him to gently pry them apart again. “Don’t hide your pretty pussy from me, Aisey.”

Blaise does as she’s told, allowing him to spread her thighs apart once more and exposing her dripping core, shivering at the cool air hitting her. “Do you like what you see, Dee?” She watches with curiosity as he unbuckles his belt, letting his own pants drop down to his ankles before kneeling in front of her.

“Do you even have to ask? I love the view in front of me -- just like I love you.” 

The demon prince doesn’t waste any time as he begins to lap at her pussy, long and lavish strokes to savour the taste of his beloved. Soon enough Blaise’s moans fill the room, accompanied by the slurping sounds and soft moans of Diavolo himself. He holds her close by the hips, fingers digging into the supple flesh of her ass in a subconscious effort to leave his marks on her.

“Your cunt is so wet for me, Aisey,” he murmurs in between licks, enveloping her clit with his lips to suckle on it. The moans that fall from her lips, breathy whispers of his names, rival a celestial symphony in his ears, spurning him on to bring her greater pleasure still.

“Dee… Please, give me -- give me more.” As ecstasy clouds her mind, she finds it difficult to form words other than pleas for more, aided by the way she frantically bucks her hips against his face. 

“You want more? You want to feel my cock inside of your tight little cunt?” His voice resonates throughout her body, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body that makes her whine, grasping onto the bedsheets.

“Fuck, yes, please! Dee, I need you inside of me,” Blaise whines, and he’s mesmerised by the sight in front of him. The way she writhes beneath him, aches for more of his touch, is pure magic. Pressing one quick kiss to her clit, he moves to hover over her, lips glistening with her slickness. His hot erection rubs against her cunt, eliciting a gasp from the girl. 

“You don’t know how often I’ve thought about sinking my cock into you…” Diavolo says, reaching between them to align his length at her entrance, prodding and teasing the tip along her sex. “But out of all the times I’ve imagined fucking you until you scream my name, nothing could ever compare to this.” With each word, he pushes his cock into her a little more until his entire length is stretching her out, hissing at the sensation of her tight cunt.

“Fuck, you’re so big, Dee,” Blaise moans, squeezing her eyes shut as she adjusts to his size. Heat pools within her core as he slowly begins to thrust into her, placing kiss after kiss on her neck. “It feels so good.”

“Tonight will be all about you, Aisey. I will show you pleasure you have never known before -- the kind you can only find here with me.” And he stays true to his words, hooking her legs around his waist as he picks up the speed, teeth grazing the soft skin of her shoulder while her eyes roll back in pure bliss.

.

A/N : this fic could also be known as ‘how to persuade your girlfriend to stay in the devildom: have a bomb dick’ bc.... diavolo seems very convincing to me 🤭🤭 

[dilfbatman]

eating outside or thunderstorms!! not necessarily together n pick whichever one you like best 💜💜 lové u dil

I LOVE YOU GRACE 🥺 THANK YOU BABES <3 okay so i’m gonna intersperse pjo w my oc’s bc i need to get them out here so i’m adding your fav one aka damien romanov for you miss grace <3 i love you 🥺 ALSO this is my first time ever writing a oneshot/fic whatever you wanna call it so please leave me some constructive criticism! i wanna get better :D

—

The sunlight was directly hitting dark as night hair, casting a halo on a young man reminiscent of a fallen angel. Grey eyes that were most often sharp, cold, and calculating were now softened, calm, and playful. A slight smile present, Damien lulled his head back to soak up the sun’s rays. His eyes closed revealing a bright orange canvas with dark sunspots that danced like ballerinas across his eyelids. Surveying the languid movements he moved his fingers accordingly, creating a slight cold mist in his hands that felt familiar, that felt like home.

“Looks like someone’s having a fine summer’s evening.” Hazel giggled. Damien opened his eyes and found Hazel, the young & kind daughter of Pluto. She was sporting a creamsicle colored button up with orange heart-shaped glasses and a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans. She always had a smile on her face and was one of the very few people Damien trusted with his life. He had a soft spot in his heart for Hazel (as many people do). She was like a sister to him - he often mentored her to get in tune with the powers that his mother Hecate had gifted her with.

“Just chilling out.” He drawled. The late summer evenings in July were Damien’s favorite. Seeing the skies turn from a bright turquoise blue to a rust orange laden with rosy pinks, which in turn bled into a dark blue dusk brought the son of Hecate comfort.

“Well come on in. You have to help clean up the food we made for the picnic.” She flicked his forehead before he could make a move and quickly ran inside with her own laughter following her every step. He rolled his eyes and replayed the day in his head.

Fellow demigods from Camp Half-Blood & Camp Jupiter invited Damien and a few of his friends to a beautiful summer’s day picnic. While the Seven and a few more were used to this tradition, their new friends were not always privy to the simple joys of hanging out with friends without a care in the world, laughing and playing, or creating memories to last however long a lifetime is for a mere demigod. In fact, it took quite the bit of goading from Hazel & Nico to get the Underworld/Minor gods’ kids to join.

Thankfully, no one is immune to the puppy eyes of one miss Hazel Levesque.

Damien, and his friends Xavier - a son of Eros, & Dmitri - a daughter of Hades, had accompanied him. The day played without a hitch. His friends were smiling, everyone was talking to each other, and most importantly - everyone was safe and resting. Annabeth had her girlfriend Piper laid across her lap while she softly played with her hair. Jason’s shoulder was occupied by Leo’s head which shook Jason’s shoulder anytime he laughed which everyone took note of - seeing the son of Jupiter blush was a rare yet sweet treat. Dmitri’s siblings were both playing a mythomagic game while Dmitri spoke to Perseus & Will about underworld antics that Nico got up to which Percy would certainly not make fun of to Nico’s face once this was all over. Xavier, the ridiculously beautiful son of Eros laid back to back against Frank while they both spoke of archery while munching on cookies that Hazel so kindly baked for the group.

The day was without a doubt, one of the best days they had in a long while. Everyone’s stomaches were full of delicious sandwiches, chips, sodas, & sweet treats. After a day of joy & rest they all came home which brought them to the present moment. Damien walked inside and found both Dmitri & Jason looking at the sky which had turned into a grey that mirrored Damien’s eyes.

A soft smile was found on Dmitri’s face. “It’ll rain. I can sense the thunderstorm approaching.” She found solace in the rolling dark grey skies, and unlike other demigod children, she was not afraid of a little bit of lightning.

Jason nodded and quipped, “Expect tons of lightning. My father is feeling a bit bored today.” Dmitri barked a laugh and walked towards the living room - she casted her hands towards the fire place to summon up flames.

Damien looked around the room and saw his old friends and his new friends mingling around with one another. He found solace in the fact that this was now his life. Laughter echoed, thunder rumbled, and lightning would strike. It was a like a beautiful symphony that brought not only the son of Hecate, but the rest of the demigod kids an insurmountable amount of joy.

AHHHH OKAY SO THIS IS MY FIRST TIME EVER WRITING A ONESHOT SO LIKE DKDJDJD SORRY IF IT SUCKS! but i hope you enjoy and if anyone wants to request more feel free - it’s from the soft summer’s prompt list! :D

[mariamagnusson]

Welcome to screening and artist talk tonight at BRA 10 at Konstepidemin.

I will show my films: Solarization (5 min), Take it apart and put together again (16 min), Patterns of Light and Shadow (3 min), The Woman's Building (4 min), The Adobe House (6  min), Abstracto (1 min), Sunspots and Solar Flares (2 min) and Shutting Down (4 min). And later that evening the film The Sound We See: A Gothenburg City Symphony "The Sound We See is 24 hours of Gothenburg edit into 24 minutes and shot by many different filmmakers. With super 8 cameras, black and white film developed by hand it's a dreamlike journey into the heart of Gothenburg. The Sound We See is a global project held by Lisa Marr and Paolo Davanzo of the Echo Park Film Center, Los Angeles and the Gothenburg symphony was created with Maria Magnusson as coordinator."

[hy-chu]

Made my ponysona (sunspot) but if he was different races and ended up giving them a plot on accident

They’re now cousins

And I now have three ponysonas oops

[rock-basstard]

I was tagged by @wellwelldroogieboy to spell my URL with song titles. Thank you so much!

R - Rusty Cage (Soundgarden) O - Ordinary World (Duran Duran) C - Cinnamon (Stone Temple Pilots) K - Kiss Me (Sixpence None The Richer) B - Burn (The Cure) A - Animal Nitrate (Suede) S - Symphony Of Destruction (Megadeth) S - Sunspots (Nine Inch Nails) T - Them Bones (Alice In Chains) A - Ava Adore (Smashing Pumpkins) R - Realms (Beastwars) D - Drive (Incubus)

I’ll tag @obsessedbaguette, @sickhead-h, @i-think-its-gonna-rain, @red-grunge Sorry if you’ve been already tagged. :)

[thenamesphan]

After // d.h

this is just a 550 word essay about dan’s face. enjoy lol 

wattpad

I shift my bare body onto its side, pulling the duvet closer to my chin. Goosebumps bloom down my body as my arm makes contact with the cold, outside world just above our covers. Underneath was as warm as the sunspots on white carpet in the summer, the familiar feeling of childhood washes over me. Me as a child, with my head resting on the soft yet itchy carpet with an orange cat taking up most of the sun leaking through the crack in the door. Small, peach-colored pieces of fur and particles of dust floated just above the sleeping cat. Twenty years later and I’m looking at a new sleeping figure, except this one looks a bit more like my father. His eyes are placidly closed and still, his eyelashes tangling in themselves and collecting pieces of lint. Beneath his lids lay dark, inviting eyes. Brown as the walnut dresser my mother had beside the open window. Just as the dresser did, his eyes contrast peacefully against a softened white background. His nose curves to be the closest thing to me. Breathing in and out. His lips are slightly parted and completely free from tension. The color of light pink hydrangeas that bloomed in my front yard, with bits of red from where you had bitten away at the chapped parts. I hesitantly raised the back of my hand up to your cheek and ran it down to your chin. Your skin, the color of the moon that felt like the softest velvet rose yet smelled like your soap and shaving cream. Dark freckles were sprinkled delicately across your cheeks and neck. My timid fingers found their way to your hairline before brushing through the knotted jungled of dark brown curls and stray silvers. Your hair was coarse and not as soft as you would expect from pictures. Waves started at the back of your head and crashed onto the shore of your forehead, barely brushing against your eyebrows. I kissed the stray ocean foam that laid across the sand. My hands drift down to your chest, and I hope I don’t wake you with my icy fingers. However your body heat makes up for all that mine lacked. My hands rest just beside your heart. I placed my ear to your sternum. I could hear the straining sounds of your lungs breathing in and out, slowly lifting my head along with them. But by far the loudest thing in the room was your heart beat. The thuds of warm blood bringing fresh oxygen to you wherever you needed most. I am glad your heart can’t hear of all the inevitable death you speak of, otherwise it probably wouldn’t work so hard to keep your ass alive. I closed my eyes to listen to the rhythm of your body, a symphony no orchestra could ever create nor perfect. Your breathing hitches a bit and my head reaches back up to the clouds to meet you. As my eyelashes squish against the side of the pillow, yours flicker open like the wings of butterflies I used to chase. You let out a deep exhale before bringing your hand up to your eyelids and rubbing the drowsiness away. Your eyes connect with mine, and suddenly it feels like no time has passed.

masterpost

[thesideeyebmc-blog]

The Teeth (1/7/17)

By guest contributor Kathryn Bratt-Pfotenhauer

The girl becomes God to some degree

the words she types are a balm, rain-filled and soft

designed to soothe; love poems and idolatry are routine now,

they come easy, heady with infatuation and hickeys.

But in the late night, her eyes itch, and

the familiar sounds of words breaking themselves apart

fill her ears, a symphony of brass crash and popped pills:

she is in a lot of pain these days. She self-medicates idly.

The world outside is a garish sun-soaked spot

and she is a tiny tiny blip of a blip of the eye of a needle

she does not need her petal-pink love right now, she needs

the edge of her sanity, the black prick of loathing

these poems are soft, and it’s worrisome when all

she has been is cut glass writing about the ribbons

after the fact, turn about face and cry because

she should be happy now. She should be angry pen

and scrawl of ink but the words come blocked and

only in a meandering poetic worm of fancy she is exhausted

exhausted exhausted exhausted exhausted exhausted

but there’s no time for exhaustion now

the years are coming too fast, too many sunspot days pass overhead

and she can’t and won’t leave the belly of her

bed; the dreams come unbidden, full of faceless boys and resentment

I, play at God on my computer, hoping to create something worthwhile

To scratch the surface of potential and it does nothing for me I,

am what I always have been; the thing they don’t tell you

about upset is that you start to miss it when it’s not present;

you drag it back from the echoes of your skull,

and now all I want is sleep. All I want is the dreamless state

the kind that reminds me of what it is to feel

death. The shroud is a cool cotton silk overhead,

as lovely as my lover; it is as sweet as shame.

[raining-v-coffee]

Clara/12th Doctor fic recs (One shots)

*Multichapter    ~my notes

Angel Of The Morning

The message on the psychic paper was short and to the point: I’m looking for the best doctor in the universe – dickwads and time wasters need not apply. Not their usual kind of thing, not that anything they really did counted as usual.

But a summons is a summons... although much to Clara and the Doctor's consternation, they discover that the red-suited sender is just as blunt and foul-mouthed in person.

Keep My Glass Full

Clara hadn't even wanted to attend the party, not really. But Nina had insisted, and so now here she is, determined to have a good time... even if all she can think about is a certain Scottish Time Lord. When things take a sour turn, she realises how much she needs him to take care of her.

Baby Please Come Home

The Doctor had brought them carefully back to London, right after they'd left - or so he'd said. In fact, they're in Glasgow... and he's made a slight temporal error regarding the date of arrival. Suddenly alone and uncertain of what to do, Clara turns to a policeman for help, only to learn that she's been reported as a missing person... and the bad news doesn't end there...

I See The Hope In Your Heart

At Coal Hill, Clara Oswald is not a five foot two saver of alien worlds, occasional Time-Lord-hand-holder and all-round genius. She is, instead, a five foot two English teacher with a fondness for the Regency Era and a full-time preoccupation with her students' welfare, occasional coffee-drinker, and general force to be reckoned with. But when one of her students begins to act strangely, Clara has to work out how best to handle the situation... and she ends up finding help from an unusual source.

~Trigger warning for mentions of self harm

O Christmas Tree

Alone with only the Michael Bublé Christmas Special for company, Clara had resigned herself to not getting into the Christmas spirit - unless that spirit was gin. So when the Doctor turns up with a real Christmas tree for her flat, she's touched by the gesture... until six hours later, when the tree starts to warble well-known seasonal songs at maximum volume.

The Christmas Spirit

When her phone rings in the middle of the night, Clara is surprised to find Osgood calling. She's even more surprised to discover that the world isn't ending, but instead she's needed to come and collect a drunk Doctor from the UNIT Christmas party.

The Teacher and the Visualizer

What would you do if you had access to a device that recorded everything that ever happened in time and space? If you're Clara, you look for the equivalent of funny cat videos and embarrassing old images of the Doctor.

Child of Mine

The Doctor said bringing a new human aboard the Tardis would be a distraction, he was right...

Composing a Symphony

Clara wakes to an unexpected serenade by an unexpected source.

The Last and Yet

Prompt: Write a twelveclara fanfic based in In The Forest Of The Night, in which the Doctor is wrong about the solar flares and the earth is destroyed, therefore Clara becomes the last one of her kind.

Like Stars

Twelve and Clara have a quiet evening of babysitting.

Effective Escape Plans

Trapped down an alley, with guards encroaching, the Doctor and Clara need to come up with a plan to paper over the petty theft, drunkenness, and bickering.

Voicemails

Occasionally the Doctor spams Clara's voicemail box. Going through them usually provides an entertaining way to decompress after class.

please, just see me

Please, just see me, she hears him beg, the memory of his voice hers and hers alone.

Because the man sitting before her could no longer see her.

With-holding

After a relaxing trip to Peramus IV, Doctor gets a bit uncharacteristically handsy with Clara, and she's determined to figure out why.

Through His Eyes

Tumblr prompt: Bodyswap!

Clara comes to better understand some things about The Doctor, incuding why he shys away from her touch.

Tiny Human

The Doctor and Clara babysit for Rigsy. Fluff ensues.

Never Cross A Time Lord (or Those He Cares For)

Something's bothering Clara and she won't say what, which causes the Doctor to worry.

Youth

After a run-in with the Sisterhood of Karn, the Doctor comes over to Clara's looking a little different than normal. young!12 AU

It's All Been Done

Clara time travels in dreams but she thinks it’s just dreams and thinks nothing of it. She also keeps meeting a man named Doctor in her dreams, but she thinks he is just a figment of her imagination until one days she collides with him in real life. She thinks she has finally gone crazy.

Temples, Dreams, and A Nudge in the Right Direction

The Doctor and Clara travel to a planet and do a favor for a local, which prompts them to do something both had been holding back from.

Twist and Shout

Clara and the Doctor get separated during a Mardis Gras parade on New New Orleans, leading Clara to have to find him again. The Doctor causes shenanigans once they are reunited.

Carer & Caretaker

The Doctor and Clara take care of each other when they're ill. Post Last Christmas

A Duty of Care

“Please, don’t even argue,” he said, holding out his hand. Clara saw not only the fear in his eyes, but the hope that she would take his hand and they would run off, travelling happily ever after. She wanted to, she really did, and would have had it not been for one tiny detail. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the cheek; a kind, tender gesture.

“I… this isn’t an argument,” she replied.

~Babyfic, super cute

miles to go

“Clara, why would you want to go for a boring old run when we could just pop over to Galafaxorous, accidentally insult the king’s malodorous son, and then be chased by his brain-sucking guards?”

Sometimes Clara has nightmares, but she learns how to cope.

Hay and Elephants

The Doctor and an injured Clara seek shelter from a winter storm. Huddling for warmth ensues.

Green Blaze

The town is called Mistletoe. Clara objects, because those are tumbleweeds, not mistletoe, and she can tell the difference.

Teacups

He was a teacup that could be dropped. He knew it because he'd been dropped before. He was a teacup that had been mended over and over.

Things to remember, a partial list

He is not an idiot. He has a perfectly functioning mind, if not a perfectly functioning memory, and he knows the sound of an early-model TARDIS when he hears one.

Solar flares

Two sentient stellar beings, in close orbit around each other, exchanging plasma, in an epic romance that had taken millennia to consummate. One would envelope the other in a few million years, and then they would burst outward in a supernova, bringing their love to a spectacular end. Their light and their love would be ash, but not now, and not any time soon. Today, now, in the glory days of their love -- or so the Doctor described it -- their names swirled across their surfaces as sunspots, dots and whorls in the plasma. The written language of stars.

The Edge of the World

The Doctor remembers Clara, his memories return in a flood, and he makes some questionable choices. Luckily Clara is there to pick up the peices

For Better, For Worse, For You

Clara notices the Doctor changed in ways that are more "suited" for her between 11 and 12.

On Some Planets, You Realize, This Means We're Married

Post-Christmas reunion, the Doctor and Clara go for a little peaceful togetherness time. "Bonding ritual" is taken a bit too literally.

(Major Whouffaldi fluff, for which I would apologize if I was sorry.)

Feeling a bit rough

Sometimes things get to Clara.

Bathtime

Pretty much what it says on the tin. Bubble beards, splashfights, hoodie sharing/stealing...

Storms

Of all the things that might potentially put a Timelord straight to sleep, it had to be something that Clara had good reason to avoid.

Dusk

He's been chasing her since Christmas. She's finally too tired to keep pretending she's fine.

Mercy

She's had enough of thinking she heard his voice, of waking up to everything looking the same when it's far from it. She's had it with mourning someone who is still alive. Post Hell Bent, whouffaldi reunion fic.

Recalculating

Prompt: Clara and the Doctor being domestic in the TARDIS, Doctor busy fixing something or writing maths on the black board, so Clara flys the TARDIS like its second nature.

Not a Bother at All

Prompt: Could you do a story where it's Twelve taking care of Clara instead of Eleven?

Announcements

How do two different Doctors take the same news five years apart? (Clara, baby, fluffiness.)

Back Up Again

(Prompt) Clara is hurt from the radiation in Into the Dalek and she blacks out/ has hallucinations

Jigsaw

(Prompt) Twelve reads to Clara? (A little off the prompt, more about telling stories, and sharing an adventure.)

That Subtle Knot

The Doctor tells his story, then reaches out to touch the waitress's hand. And freezes.

To Days To Come

The Twelfth Doctor and Clara accidentally meet a future incarnation of the Doctor. They both get a small nudge towards living life to the fullest. Set sometimes before Face the Raven.

Zero Hour

One final trip before Clara goes back to face the raven...

we're so delicate

Clara has to cope with multiple losses while still living in the present. Eventually, she discovers she isn’t alone.

Not Quite a Lullaby

Nearly being murdered inside a Dalek is more than mildly traumatizing. The Twelfth Doctor and Clara both emotionally vulnerable after the fact, especially as it relates to Clara's need for sleep.

The Memory of Sunrise

Twelve and Clara end up stuck on an island overnight and Clara takes the opportunity to explore just why the Doctor changed so much when he regenerated and what exactly happened on Trenzalore.

No Stranger to You

From a prompt on Tumblr: ""Get out of the way!" also 12/clara and if you dont like those then maybe "You look like you could use a hand." ? :))))". Angst and righteous, justified anger in regards to what Clara’s had to endure, and the little regard paid to that trauma. Alternate ending to Deep Breath.

~I really like this. A lot of people seem to dislike Clara, and I do think she can be a bit much sometimes. However, I really liked this season sue to the fact that she set herself very clear lines and tried her best to stay with them. The way the Doctor was written was inconsistent during this season, and I don’t think it was fair the way he treated her.

Christmas with the Oswalds

The Doctor ends up spending Christmas with the Oswalds, and Clara changes her feelings about that as the evening progresses.

Partly inspired by a prompt asking for a mistletoe kiss.

Five Little Sparks

The Doctor might like a bit of bossy, and it takes a few times for Clara to realize.

Cooking Clara

Twelve and Clara enjoy the figurative fruits of culinary labour, with absolutely absurd results. (from a Tumblr prompt asking for Clara to make omurice and for Twelve to find himself oddly addicted to it.)

Permission to Own a Cat

Clara gets a cat. The cat refuses to follow the Doctor's rules for life on the Tardis.

that talent for insatiability

or: The Doctor and Clara chalk it up to fate. au.

Clara Oswald & Her Bad Influence Friend

A dumb short AU where the TARDIS is a shitty car and Twelve is some shady dude Clara knows and everyone at Coal Hill is like "wtf who is this guy and how does Ms. Oswald know him." Absolute crack.

the carer & the caretaker [video]

It’s the oldest story in the universe: the carer and the caretaker fall in love, which travels across all of time and space. It’s a love story, of sorts.

Get behind the universe

Chin tucked, eyebrows lowered, eyes deep in their cadaverous sockets and full of small-scale, personal murder. The Doctor is furious at the ill treatment she has received.

don't see you for one week and the fellow suddenly decides he's in need of a proper secondary school education!"

The Souffle

Pure Whouffaldi Fluff as the Doctor tries to help Clara on her quest for the perfect soufflé.

Sky All Full of Stars

Clara Oswald thinks, You can love someone without liking them all the time. Twelve, Clara, and a surprise appearance by a surprise guest. Surprise! (No spoilers.)

From the Garden You Can See the Wild Wood

Twelve/Clara Red Riding Hood AU.

Under the Weather

Clara is sick. What on earth is the Doctor doing with her tea kettle?

The Strategist

Victorious Queen Clara's guards bring her a captive that suit her very specific tastes: gray-haired and lean. This one isn't what he appears to be, however.

The Deep and Lovely Dark

The Doctor is afraid to sleep and eventually it catches up with him.

Stars on his fingers

"I just want-- I want a night in. At home. With quiet company. While my ankle is all swollen like this. I want a pajama party."

The Doctor heard "quiet company" and knew he could provide that. And possible he'd take the opportunity to do something sneaky and helpful with her ankle. He clapped his hands together. "Right! A pajama party you shall have."

Sittin' in a Tree

The Doctor's jumper is full of holes, and Clara can't seem to help herself....

lay your armor down

A spot of completely non-sexual dom!Clara and sub!Twelve.

Unravel

This is who he is now, what he's chosen to become.

make a dragon wanna retire, man

Clara walks into the console room on a Monday and announces, without preamble, “I think we should get a pet.”

if you're looking for heaven

It'll take some getting used to, but he does like it. Liked it the old way too. In fact, to an extent that might be worrying, he likes a lot of things Clara chooses to do or say or wear. (He doesn't want to use the word besotted when it comes to her but, well...)

Twelve and Clara. After Christmas they just keep running.

Winterlong

"Gallifrey is back, in some pocket somewhere it was never meant to be in, churning up the rest of the universe like meat in a grinder, and the Doctor is full of golden energy and regeneration chemicals that he hasn't had to handle for hundreds of years. He's full of memories, too; she knows that he's left some things unsaid, dreams of centuries of blood and fire that wake him with quiet gasps more often than he thinks she knows. She knows that there's more beyond that which he doesn't tell her. A time lord is not meant to cope with these things alone. " Or: A series of scenes from the start of their first winter together through the end of their first winter.

Watermark

Do you know what the big problem is in telling fantasy and reality apart? They're both ridiculous.

Bad Dreams

Clara Oswald has dreams. She doesn't always like them.

Set post-The Witch's Familiar and involves spoilers (like a fair amount), so if you haven't seen Series 9 Episodes 1 and 2, I'd hold off on reading this.

Returning Echoes

After the events of 'Listen', Clara starts to experience strange dreams, thoughts and feelings. The echoes of her shattered selves begin to catch up with her. Can the Doctor help?

Honesty Mature

Set immediately after "Last Christmas." Neither of them will admit they're addicted to each other, but they've both been through the withdrawal and the effects can't go unaddressed.

What I Mean To Say Is Mature

What happened between the Doctor finding Clara inside of the Dalek, and them making their great escape to the Tardis? We might never know, but I needed to explore a what-if...

Time Period: Four days in late September, roughly 3 months after Death in Heaven.

Repairs Mature

The Doctor rescues Clara in the nick of time, but that's not the end of it.

The Thief Mature

The Doctor just smashed up the TARDIS console, but he needs to get away from there. He shoves his fingers into the telepathic matrix and goes... somewhere. He doesn't care where. The TARDIS cares, however. This is what happened in between the visit to Gallifrey and the meeting in the cafe.

Writing to Reach You Mature

Clara's not been feeling herself lately, and it just keeps getting worse.

Or: Written based off rumours of who Missy is (sort of), and sort of based on trailers for Dark Water and the Finale.

Post Season 8, before Last Christmas. Earth is suffering the ravages of the worst storm in recorded history and Clara suspects an extra-terrestrial reason. But if it’s something alien what’s it got to do with the Doctor and can Clara come to terms with her own personal tempest of feelings when the Time Lord crashes back into her life?

Twisted Terrors Mature

"He has this incessant urge to get involved in other people’s business, this saviour complex that makes him think the lives of others are his responsibility, but it took Danny Pink dying to make her see the error in that assumption."

The Wedding Tree Mature

For once an encounter with an advanced civilization was not going to end in war, catastrophe, disaster, or even a pell-mell run toward something or away from something. It was just a lovely thank-you ceremony for the two of them, that's all, followed by a lovely night high up in a tree house. With one bed. Wait.

Conjunction Mature

All of time and space, out there in a blue box. Where do they go first, and what do they do? The Doctor shows Clara a wonder.

for you alone i will be weak Mature

The Doctor and Clara reunite and carry on.

Come Back In Two Halves Mature

Doctor Oswald and The Clara embark on an exciting adventure of existential panic.

So let us melt Mature

The Doctor explains to Clara why he's alone, even when he's holding her. She does something about it.

The Seen & Unseen Life of a Carer & Her Time Lord Mature

Clara remembers the Doctor is very alien, but it doesn't really matter too much. Post-Last Christmas.

Come Back In Two Halves Mature

Doctor Oswald and The Clara embark on an exciting adventure of existential panic.

tessellate Explicit

So. They're just people who live together and touch each other sometimes.

Control Explicit

Clara's immune system is reset and she and the Doctor must deal with the resulting plethora of illnesses that result all at once, including one that can't be immediately seen. Lots of gratuitous fluff, some plot, and more smut than I think I have the capacity to ever write again.

Boy From School Explicit

"How did the Skovox Blitzer end up in the school where I teach? Why there?" She looked up and shot him a dirty, knowing look. "The school has been there for years. No aliens, no strange happenings…I

Chocolate Powder (Slow Warmed Then Whisked) Explicit

Clara and the Doctor share a nightly ritual now she's full time on the TARDIS but its about to change. Whouffaldi. Smut angst fluff. E/M rating. Post Last Christmas. One shot.

~New addition. Edited 3/9/2017

Love Is

But it was what had brought them to this point: kneeling together on an ancient, dirt-caked circuit board, so close and yet – separated by the one thing that had always kept them apart. The one thing that might have made everything different if only they had the courage to *talk* to each other. Hell Bent missing scene.

To my Master Post of Doctor Who fic recs <3

I also have rec lists for Harry Potter and Naruto.