#What Are The Early Changes After Death

[forensicfield]

What is Autopsy?

Autopsy, when broken into two different terms, Auto means Self and Opis means examination, giving to the meaning self-examination. It is defined broadly as the examination of both external and internal contents of the dead body including the histology...

Continue reading What is Autopsy?

[sillyfairygarden]

a tale of two hearts

[touyahoedoroki]

if shig really is dead then this truly is so disappointing like I can’t believe hori would kill him off like this

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

Have any child/teenager lucy headcanons?

I think i'll lean more towards teen side of things since I dont really think anything of interest happened in her childhood (y'know apart from the neglect)

Always dreamed of leaving out on her own since her early teens. Would really indulge in books particularly about the protagonist's setting off on a fantastical journey because of this.

She also stole a lot of traits/ tactics from stuff that happened in her books because she thought they were cool (looking at you sex appeal tactic lol. Also using a whip as a weapon)

Her leaving was a spur of the moment decision really after a bad argument with Jude (see: arranged marriage) where she decided enough was enough. Thus grabbed a few off her belongings and dipped.

She actually did get caught on her way out of the compound but it was by a few of the staff who helped her to sneak off.

Hit a really hard learning curve once she free because man let's be real. She's a runaway ex-heiress who spent the bulk of her life with someone there to attend to her needs and on the heartfilia estate. She can do some stuff for herself but she was running low on social and a lot of life skills. All she really had was the clothes on her back (and maybe a few other change of clothes), her keys, and a few shiny baubles she didnt care for that she knew she could sell to earn some cash to keep moving.

Honestly she had a really lucky streak of running into kind folks who helped her out at inns and shops to who it was quite obvious that she's a fish out of water with a lot of things. Didn't really run into any unsavoury types until Hargeon(Ok she may have gotten scammed a bit here and there with people jacking up prices on her but that's about it.)

Was on her own for about 6 months before the story events and absolutely revelled in the freedom of it all.

She could finally eat what she wanted, dress how she wanted, go where she pleased. She was living life and it was great. (Yeah trying to find a way to have a steady stream of cash and places to sleep wasn't easy but everything else was great).

Quickly became a penny pincher because damn, she didn't really know that money could disappear that fast. Like she knew in theory but actually experience it made her really aware of the value. (She still fucks up and gives into temptation and overspends every once in a while.)

The decision to join Fairy Tail, or really just any guild was something she mulled over for the longest time. On one hand, she could get to be among other magic users and get to learn and go on adventures (and a possible steady stream of cash). On the other hand, there was so many variables. Would someone recognize her last name? Report her to her father? She didn't know what the process of joining a guild was like! What if there's a test and she fails it? What if the other guild members didn't like her?!

Eventually said fuck it and started to read tabloids (hello Sorceror's Weekly) to sniff out possible popular guilds to join.

Ends up in Hargeon (u know what happens next lol)

[lem-argentum]

it took me until dt to change rudy's hairstyle, but i ACTUALLY think he would've cut it back in post-stb when he became a reaper. the trope of "character cuts hair to feel more in control of their life" is cliché but REAL. and also the visual of him cutting it with his scythe is fun

[romantichopelessly]

not to be completely brain rotted but I am so unbelievably close to writing an Adansey AU inspired by Vicious by VE Schwab.

[kuromi-hoemie]

i just finished iron blooded orphans and need to lay down for a bit

[depressnt]

YOU CANT HIDE GOLD IN THE TAGS

Danny and Ellie had majorly screwed up. Now here they were in the hydro-electric car Danny had designed for applying to Wayne industries/whoever would give a fifteen year old a fat paycheck, sitting in the middle of Gotham, at night, surrounded by glaring bats.

Crap.

Time to bullshit his way out of this.

He looked at Red Robin and sheepishly grinned, "...hi dad."

Ellie, the little gremlin, didn't even hesitate before adding, "We are so grounded. I told you we shouldn't have messed with the broken time machine but nooo."

The bats were either taken about or cackling and Danny to this chance to put the petal to the metal and get out of there

Tim is now obsessed with finding his future kids.

[astronomalyy]

Thinking about the lifespans of Dungeon Meshi elves... The fact that they're completely unnatural alters my brain chemistry, because you can tell just how haphazardly the demon implemented their wish. They live five times the length of tall-men, so they age at a fifth of their rate. It's simple maths and the implications are terrifying. No wonder their birth rate and population are declining - their early development is so slow that at the age of two, they're still unable to stand.

They don't reach adulthood until their eighties. What does the infant mortality look like? How many elves succumb to illness or injury before they're fully mature? It only takes one accident to lose the child you've been raising for decades - and could you bring yourself to care for another? Add to that the implication elf culture has no idea how to process grief... just look at the way the Canaries treat Rin after the death of her parents. They're callous and insensitive and detached - part of that's racism, but there's also an element of pure cold ignorance. They don't even recognise the emotion on her face.

And that's just scratching the surface... does elven memory accommodate their extended lifespan? Once you reach two hundred or so, do the years start blurring together? Kabru mentions that their temporal awareness is remarkably poor.

Two years feel like a few months. Their lives are longer but not fuller. They're older but not wiser than the short-lived races, and most refuse to understand this. Those that do grasp it are interesting - namely Otta, who's ostracised for pursuing half-foot women.

A 30-year old elf is a young child; a 30-year old half-foot has entered middle age. Otta is in the equivalent of her late twenties. She knows that her elven lifespan makes her no more mature than a half-foot - but she also acknowledges that it creates a rift between herself and her partners, and not just in the eyes of society. 'She dumps them as soon as they pass 30', but probably not for the reasons Lycion assumes. For this to be a pattern, decades must have passed - it's possible Otta doesn't want to watch them die as she herself barely ages. No doubt some of her previous lovers have already passed away. In the end, all living 400 years accomplishes is leaving them out of sync with the rest of humanity.

Marcille's perhaps the best example. As a half-elf, she's got 95% of her life ahead and the thought terrifies her. She's going to lose everyone she loves, over and over and over again, and this cycle has barely even started. She runs at a different pace. This context adds so much to her dynamic with Falin in earlier chapters.

Marcille loves her! She's scared for her! Maybe even of her! She's grown attached to a short-lived girl who she met as a kid when Marcille was a teaching assistant! Biologically and developmentally, they're the same age, but chronologically she's twice as old as Falin! Considering what happened to her mother, is history repeating itself? Her feelings towards Falin are tangled and messy and fascinating. They're also more than a little homoerotic, which makes Marcille's infantilization of her friend all the more interesting. It feels like her way of resolving their power imbalance, of remaining a responsible (former!) authority figure... but it's also a coping mechanism. She's frightened by the ways Falin is maturing and changing - aging - and keeping her mental image of her friend as young as possible is her way of denying the march of time that's destined to sever their bond.

Marcille's dream of lifespan extension would remove the need for this obfuscation, render them equal... only, they already are! This desire is imposed onto Falin, but it's primarily for Marcille's benefit. Watching her fight for a world nobody wants, for reasons both selfish and altruistic... it's as tragic as it is understandable. I love this manga.

[entitled-fangirl]

Tradition.

Cregan Stark x Pregnant!reader

Summary: the reader and Cregan go to King's Landing to support her nephew, Luke's, Velaryon claim. She goes into early labor away from the North.

Warnings: Aegon is his own warning, body shaming, talks of brothels and stuff, labor, blood, death, fighting, all that stuff.

A/n: Based on an ask! I'll proofread later 😭

Masterlist

.......................................................

Cregan held out his hand to help his very pregnant wife out of the carriage. 

He absolutely hated riding by carriage. It seemed pointless when you could ride a horse instead. But when summoned to King's Landing by King Viserys with his Targaryen wife to join the rest of her family, he had to guarantee her safety on the travel by any means necessary.

Alicent's face lit up at the sight of her daughter, practically running over Cregan to get to her. She embraced the pregnant woman tightly, "Oh, my love! How you've changed!" 

Y/n hugged her mother back just as firmly with a smile, "I've missed you, mother."

Alicent pulled away and admired her grown girl, "King's Landing is better with you here." Only then did Alicent notice Cregan, "Oh. Lord Stark."

Cregan bowed his head politely, "My queen."

"Cregan has been eager to see King's Landing again," Y/n chirped in, "He has only been a few times."

Alicent's brows lifted, "Really? I wouldn't have thought that."

He nodded, "I could've been patient enough to wait until after the birth, but alas, when the King calls, you answer."

Alicent gave a forced smile, "Right. Of course. The birth." She looked to her daughter, "How far along are you, my dear?"

"Nearing eight moons now," she said nervously with a hand on her swollen stomach.

Alicent didn't miss the equally nervous and protective look in Cregan's eyes.

…

Dinner that night was beyond tense. 

What was joy for Viserys was misery for everyone else.

Watching the king decay at the table and the rest of them squabble over trivial matters that seemed of great importance.

"A toast to the young princes and their betrothed."

Aegon leaned over to his nephew Jace, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."

A glare was sent his way by Jace and Baela.

Y/n caught on and quickly looked to Aemond, who sipped his wine with no reaction.

"You do know how the act is done, I assume?" Aegon continued. "At least, in principle. Where to put your cock and all that?"

Jace's jaw clenched, "You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed."

"Aegon." Y/n hissed through her teeth across the table.

His head immediately snapped to his sister in annoyance, "What?"

"Let it alone."

He scoffed lightly, "What do you mean? I'm only asking." He gained a grin, "It's not like I have to ask Lord Stark that. Look at the state of you!" He gestured to her swollen belly.

Cregan's grip on his fork tightened, turning his knuckles white. 

She placed a hand over her stomach and grimaced, "At least I was able to find a husband that wanted me. Mother had to force you to marry the only girl around, and that was Helaena."

Aegon gave an incredible glare, one that his sibling shot back.

Aemond became amused.

"Let us not fight at the table," Alicent reprimanded lightly.

Y/n looked to Jace, who gave a small nod of gratitude.

Silence filled the room until the King's long monologue of the need for peace in the house. 

Rhaenyra and Alicent gave small and seemingly back-handed toasts but Y/n was too set on the continuous mischievous look in her brother's eye.

And she called it right when he stood and moved to whisper in Baela's ear.

It was clear that it was muttered with the intention of riling up Jace, which it did quite well.

He stood up in anger, slamming his fist on the table.

Cregan, who had remained entirely silent thus far, instinctually moved a hand across his wife as if shielding her and the child.

The tense toasts only got worse from there.

Luckily, the music seemed to drown out the intensity, as well as Jace's good gesture of faith in dancing with Helaena. 

Y/n leaned over to Aemond, "Brother."

His brow raised as his eye traveled to look at her.

"It has been… long since I've seen you. I see you've faired quite well."

He hummed lightly, "I see you've… managed."

She could feel Cregan's intense gaze from behind her, "Wh…what do you mean?"

Aemond smirked and leaned in to where only the two Starks could hear him, "Inpregnanted by a brute-"

Cregan's jaw clenched so hard he feared for his teeth. His voice was a hushed whisper, but still held furiously to it, "Watch your words."

Y/n held Cregan's shoulder, "Let us not do this here."

Aemond smirked with Cregan sighed and leaned back in his chair.

When Viserys was escorted from the room due to his pain, Y/n decided to leave as well, and Cregan behind her.

They claimed a pregnancy illness and Rhaenyra smirked, knowing she'd used the same card many times.

…

Cregan helped her into bed, "I don't understand their need to crawl under everyone's skin like beetles."

She sighed, "They've never known life outside of a castle, Cregan. They've never been told no, and they never will. It's best to let it go."

"They mock us both. My name has been through dirt, blood, and tears, and I do not care, but yours?" He scoffed, "I will not stand by the next time you are mocked."

"It is only for a little while longer," she rebutted.

"Know that I do this for you, and only you, my love."

She smiled, "That's all I ask."

…

"The north has done a number on you, really," Aegon said as he appeared at her side.

She tilted her head, "I don't know what you mean."

He shrugged, "You're…" he then gestured his arms widely. "I dunno… well indulged?"

She pushed down the tears that welled up in her eyes, "Why do you care?"

He scoffed and leaned in towards her, "You know how many friends of mine asked for whores that looked like you? Many."

"And?"

"And?" He asked mockingly. "And? Who wants to fuck a whore that looks like you now?"

Her jaw went slack for a moment, completely shocked by his words. 

Finally, with now watery eyes, she spoke. "You're the worst kind of man, Aegon."

"Oh? And what kind is that?"

A sudden punch came from nowhere, landing on Aegon's jaw and sending him to the ground. 

Cregan stood over the man's body, a predatory look in his eyes and a murderous tone in his voice, "One that can't defend his fucking words."

Y/n pulled Cregan back, "Stop!"

He wanted to fight against her, but he knew better. His shoulders rolled back and he stood tall. 

She cursed under her breath as she took in exactly what had unfolded, "They could have your head for this, Cregan."

"Only if your brother wishes to defend his words against me again," Cregan scoffs as he looks down at the man.

Aegon sits up and huffs, wiping his nose that begins to leak blood. "Northern brute-"

"-Aegon!" She reprimands. 

Cregan glared at Aegon for a while, then scoffed and walked off a few steps to calm himself.

Aegon stands on shaky legs as he glares at his sister, "I liked you better when you lacked a guard dog."

Cregan immediately turned back to the man with a look that said he was ready to murder him. As he stepped forward, Aegon stepped back as he began to regret his words.

"Take me to our chambers, Cregan," she lightly pleaded. 

The wolf of the north only stared for a while before nodding, "Lead the way."

She sighed as she gave a final look to her brother. "Clean yourself up. You look like shit."

…

Standing behind Rhaenyra, Y/n and Cregan whispered idly to Daemon when someone would comment something out of hand. 

Luke's legitimacy was coming into question, and though the Starks knew the truth, they would not dare pry the inheritance from the boy's hands. That was not their place. So next to Daemon they stood as petitions were made to and against him.

Daemon leaned in to speak to Y/n, "how far along did you say you were?"

"Eight moons now," she whispered back.

Daemon let out a surprised grunt. "You're to have the child here then? That seems unlike you."

"Uncle, my father insisted I come, and I have. Whether the child is born in the North or the South, it is a Targaryen and Stark all the same."

He smiled lightly, "I suppose you're right. If you wish for someone to accompany Lord Stark to the dragon pit to choose a proper egg for the child, only say the word."

Cregan, who had been listening quietly, now leaned in, "I am to choose an egg?"

"It is tradition," she explained. "It can be before, during, or after the birth, but the father chooses the egg. If… If you would wish to continue that tradition."

He grinned, "I'd be delighted to try."

When Vaemond Valaryon stepped up forward to speak his mind, the Starks quieted. 

He spoke in anger, trying to take Luke's right. 

Y/n looked past him to her mother and siblings. 

Aegon looked like he'd rather be doing anything else. He didn't care the outcome of this ordeal. Aemond watched intensely with his one eye, taking in every detail. And Helaena… sweet Helaena. 

She needed to visit her and the children soon.

"And her children are…" Vaemond paused.

The room stilled.

"Say it," Daemon whispered under his breath.

"Her children are BASTARDS!" He screamed.

Y/n jumped back in surprise as Cregan's steady hands caught her waist.

"And she. Is. a. Whore." Vaemond finished.

The air in the room stilled and became stuffy as the tension reached an all time high.

Viserys stood on unstable legs as he unsheathed his dagger, "I will have… your tongue for this."

A sudden slice moved through the air, and half of Vaemond's head was gone.

Blood splattered across the ones' nearest, meaning the Starks. Cregan let out an annoyed grunt.

"He can keep his tongue," Daemon said proudly as he lowered his sword.

Y/n rested a hand over her swollen stomach with a shaky hand, trying to ignore the blood that began to seep into her clothes. 

Cregan leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Are you alright?"

"I… I want to go," she shuddered back.

He nodded, looking around as the crowd began to whisper amongst themselves. He held a hand firmly against her back as she became to let out an uncomfortable whine.

"Cregan, please," she whispered.

"Alright. Alright, let's go, my love," he said as he tried to move her through the crowd.

But her legs faltered as she let out a pained noise.

He caught her in panic, "Are you in pain?"

"The babe…"

No longer caring for proper manners, Cregan stood tall and looked over the crowd. "MOVE!" He yelled out.

The people quieted and moved as Cregan helped his wife through the room and out of the doors.

Alicent only saw a brief glimpse of her daughter's silver hair go through the doors, and she was on edge. She ran through the crowd to follow behind them.

He held onto his wife's arm with one hand and held her waist with the other, trying to support her as they moved to their chambers.

Y/n let out a gasp, and her water broke.

Alicent caught up to them and grabbed her daughter's other arm. "It's alright. You're alright." She turned to a servant and ordered him to get the maester. 

Sweat began to break out of the poor woman's forehead as the weight of what is happening began to settle. 

Once on her bed, Cregan refused to move from her side, Alicent as well. Alicent rubbed soothingly across her daughter's forehead as Cregan paced at the foot of the bed.

The maester and midwives came quickly, immediately moving to the woman in labor.

"My lord, it is best if you remain outside," one of them said.

Cregan's brows furrowed in confusion. "Out… Outside?"

Alicent chipped in, "It is tradition. The husband waits outside of the doors."

He stared at Y/n in thought. Tradition. How that word weighed on them like boulders. 

"Alright."

…

He tried to ignore the sounds of her cries as he stood in the corridor. 

Nothing could ease his worries. 

In the North, it was not uncommon to be by their wife's side. 

This was unusual to him.

"My lord," a midwife questioned as she poked her head from the room.

His eyes widened, "Is she alright?"

"The child is… having trouble, my lord."

That was Cregan's greatest fear. The maester in Winterfell had spent endless hours with Cregan to determine a plan for if such a thing were to occur. Now he was without a plan entirely.

"Alright?" He finally breathed.

"What do you wish for us to do?"

"What options do I have?" He spoke barely above a whisper.

The midwife gave him an empathetic look. "We can cut the child out-"

"-No." He was quick with his answer, the very thought of taking a blade to her seeming the greatest sin he could commit.

"Um… it will be painful, but we can help her force the child out."

"Is that safe for her?"

The midwife shrugged lightly, "More than any other option I can give you."

He nodded.

She gave a weak smile and moved back into the room, but Cregan caught the door before it closed and forced his way in.

At the sight of his wife, he felt as if a blade went into his own stomach.

She was crying in pain, the midwives forcing her hips down as she tried to move away from the pain, as if that was possible.

At the sight of him, her entire face relaxed, "Cregan…"

He moved to her side, "I'm here. How can I help?"

Alicent glared slightly at him. 

"They won't… I can't…" Y/n whimpered out.

"They won't what?" He looked up to Alicent, "What are they doing?"

"She wishes to get up. We cannot have her standing," she explained.

Cregan was thrown off by that. "She cannot? W… Why ever not?" When in labor with him, Cregan's mother was said to have walked the length of Winterfell 3x over. 

"It hurts… please, Cregan…" 

He nodded as his expression hardened. "Let her stand."

The maester shook his head, "She is nearing the labor. She should not-"

"-She wishes to stand. She will stand."

Alicent spoke up. "Lord Stark-"

"-This is my wife and child. If she wishes to walk, then she will," he barked. 

A fire lit behind the queen's eyes. "She will not."

The midwives watched the tension grow.

Finally, Cregan calmly reached down and began to help his wife sit up.

Alicent cursed under her breath and grabbed Cregan's wrist in an effort to stop him.

Cregan's eyes slowly moved up to Alicent's face as anger began to overcome him. 

But she was first to speak. "You are no longer in the North. You abide by our traditions when you are here."

He'd heard enough of that word for a lifetime. 

His words came out sharper than he intended, but he cared little to soften them. "Your family is made of vipers and cutthroats. When I take my wife and child back to Winterfell, it will truly be a miracle if you ever see them again, for I will not let her sit and be neglected and tormented. I am a brute, but I am not without heart. Now, Let. Go."

Alicent reluctantly let go.

Cregan helped Y/n sit, and she immediately felt relief. "I want to walk," she panted.

He nodded, practically holding her up as she stood. "We will walk the corridor and return." His voice had no room for argument.

Once they paced the corridor a few times, she was returned to the bed, only to find that Alicent had left. Cregan only cared about it when he noticed the tinge of sadness that moved over his laboring wife.

But he was quick to fill the gap. As she moved back to the bed, Cregan sat behind her and held her against his chest, messaging anywhere that began to ache.

The labor came soon after that. Cregan held her close as she screamed in pain and gripped his wrists. She surely left bruises.

"The babe is crowning, princess," the midwife exclaimed. "Keep pushing."

The pain came in waves that made her see white. 

Cregan began to panic when the midwives gave one another a look. "What?"

"She is not pushing hard enough."

Y/n began to cry in frustration.

"She is pushing," Cregan sighed. "What else is there to do?"

One of them reached up and began to push on her stomach, prompting the princess to cry harder as the pain multiplied. 

"Allow me," Cregan shifted her in his hold and carefully placed his hands where the midwife had, slowly applying pressure to the same place.

As Y/n screamed and cried, Cregan placed assuring kisses against her neck and cheek and whispered calming words to her. "You're doing well."

If the pain had not been so bad, she may have blushed.

…

Cregan held the baby close to his chest as his wife slept.

"My lord," a servant finally entered and interrupted the silence. "The queen has requested to see the child."

An annoyed feeling washed over the man. Of course, she wished to. 

The servant took note of his changed demeanor, "I can take-"

"-No," he countered. "I will go myself. Should my wife awaken in my absence, give her anything she desires."

His heavy feet stormed from the room and he walked to the queen's chambers.

Alicent turned and shock overcame her. "Lord Stark. I did not expect you to-"

"-Neither did I."

The two stared at one another for a moment before Alicent's eyes wandered to the bundle in the large lord's arms. "Healthy?"

"The very picture."

She nodded, unsure of what to say next.

"A boy," Cregan stated.

"A boy?" Alicent whispered. Any thoughts of annoyance were past to her, and she walked to the lord and eagerly looked at the child.

The baby was indeed the picture of health. Bright purple eyes looked up at the two. Dark hair sat atop his head.

"He's quite northern," she stated.

"Indeed." Cregan was sure she meant it as an insult, but he could care less. The thought of such a gift as a northern boy filled him with pride. 

"Congratulations, Lord Stark."

He nodded. "Your daughter is fine as well."

Alicent moved away from Cregan and sat down. "That is a blessing. To all of us. She will be a perfect mother."

"Aye, she will."

The tension between the two was evident, but they wouldn't let it dull the excitement of the newest addition to the line.

"I should return to my wife."

"Please, do."

Cregan moved to the door.

"Lord Stark?" She asked.

"Yes?"

Alicent stared at him and then the babe. "Thank you. For caring for her. And now him. You are a better man than most."

Cregan sighed. It wasn't a compliment, but it was something. "Thank you, my queen. She will want for nothing until my dying breath."

"This is all I wished for her."

......................................................

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[imastoryteller]

20 Plot Twist Ideas That Will Shock Your Audience

One of the most effective tools in a storyteller's arsenal is the plot twist. A well-executed plot twist can leave your audience reeling, questioning everything they thought they knew about your story. It can turn a good story into a great one, leaving a lasting impact on your readers or viewers. In this post, we'll explore 20 plot twist ideas that will shock your audience and elevate your storytelling game to new heights.

1. The Unlikely Hero:

Turn the tables by revealing an unexpected character as the true hero. This can be someone seemingly insignificant or even an antagonist who redeems themselves at a crucial moment.

2. The Double Agent:

Introduce a character who initially appears loyal to the protagonist but is secretly working against them, only to later reveal their true intentions.

3. The Long-Lost Sibling:

Uncover a secret sibling, separated from the main character in their early years, and use their sudden appearance to shift the narrative.

4. Time Travel Paradox:

Play with time travel to create a paradox that forces the characters to confront alternate timelines or unforeseen consequences of their actions.

5. The Mastermind:

The story's villain is revealed to be a puppet in a larger scheme, controlled by a mastermind who has been operating behind the scenes.

6. The Supernatural Twist:

Introduce a supernatural element, like ghosts or mythical creatures, that the characters and audience believed were mere myths.

7. The Doppelgänger:

A character's doppelgänger appears, causing confusion and chaos as they try to determine who is the real one.

8. The Reversal of Roles:

Switch the roles of the protagonist and antagonist halfway through the story, making the audience question their allegiances.

9. The Untouchable Hero:

Create a seemingly invincible hero who unexpectedly meets their match, forcing them to reevaluate their abilities and tactics.

10. The Forgotten Past:

Unearth a character's forgotten or repressed memories, leading to a shocking revelation about their true identity or past actions.

11. The Betrayal Within:

One of the protagonist's closest allies betrays them, throwing their entire mission into disarray.

12. The Hidden Identity:

A character is not who they claim to be, and their true identity is revealed, impacting the story's direction.

13. The Inception Twist:

Blur the lines between reality and illusion, leaving the audience guessing what's real and what's a dream or illusion.

14. The Time Loop:

Trap your characters in a time loop where they're forced to relive the same events repeatedly until they can break free.

15. The Shapeshifter:

Introduce a character with the ability to change their appearance, creating doubt and suspicion within the group.

16. The Truth About the Mentor:

The mentor figure, who initially seems wise and benevolent, is unveiled as the story's true antagonist.

17. The Lost Artifact:

The much sought-after artifact or treasure turns out to be a fake, and the real item is something entirely unexpected.

18. The Pseudo-Death:

Fake a character's death to shock the audience and later reveal they were alive all along.

19. The Prophecy Reversed:

Subvert the traditional hero's journey by defying a prophesized destiny and taking the story in a different direction.

20. The Unreliable Narrator:

Reveal that the narrator has been lying or misrepresenting events, casting doubt on the entire story's accuracy.

Conclusion:

These 20 plot twist ideas are just the beginning, and by incorporating them into your narratives, you can leave your audience stunned, shocked, and eager for more. Remember that the key to a successful plot twist lies in its execution, so take your time and craft a twist that seamlessly integrates into your story, making it an unforgettable experience for your readers or viewers.

---

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[nereidprinc3ss]

pretty little things

in which you can't keep hiding your stuffed animals from your boyfriend. spencer would like a formal introduction.

fluff! warnings/tags: gn!reader I think, newish established relationship, they're so cute, reader is still kinda shy around him, I'm really obsessed with this dynamic actually, implied intimacy if you decide to interpret it that way, kissing/maybe mildly suggestive a/n: this is dedicated to my friends @parfaitblogs and @gublersg1rl bc in another universe we are actually just three jellycat plushies on someone's bed which is where the inspo for this little thing came from. and thank u willow for naming your fox. ok bye love u hope u enjoy !! :D

The first time you’d shown Spencer your room, and the handful of times he’s been in it since, you very intentionally hid your stuffed animals underneath the bed. After all, you’re an adult. You have a grown up job. And you don’t need him thinking you’re some kind of freak this early into the relationship. You like him too much. 

Today, however—you didn’t have any warning. He comes over unannounced, which is all well and good, until you bring him to your bedroom so he can sit on the bed while you change from work clothes into something comfier for movie night. As soon as you open the bedroom door, you see them, lined up neatly by your pillow, and you know it’s too late. 

“Uh…”

Spencer runs into your back and takes it as an excuse to settle his hands on your hips as he peers over your shoulder. 

“What?”

You slip out of his easy hold and skitter to your bed, practically throwing yourself on the mattress and sitting unnaturally as the little beaded eyes of your friends dig into your back. Even your brightest smile doesn’t distract Spencer. He’s like a bloodhound for the truth. At least, that’s the sense you’re beginning to get. 

“What are you doing?” He tries again, eyes narrowed and closing the door carefully behind him. 

“Nothing!”

The urgency with which you say it has his eyebrows raising. Obviously delighted by the embarrassing secret he’s sure to uncover, he approaches. You lean back further even as he towers over you until you’re almost on your back and he’s folded over you, menacingly (and dizzyingly) close. This sort of position is still new-ish and has your heart pounding, even if it’s entirely playful and ostensibly innocent. 

“Nothing? Are you sure?”

You nod, still shying away from him into the pile of pillows. Without looking he reaches under you and pulls out your pink bunny. You squeak and hide your face. 

“What is this?” He laughs, and you yank it away, sitting up so he’s forced to give you some breathing room. The bunny is cradled protectively in your arms, though you try to hold it a bit more casually when you notice. 

“I said it’s nothing.”

“What about the other two behind you? The fox and the… what is that? A deer?”

“No—”

“I didn’t even know they made deer stuffed animals—”

“Spencer, stop!”

He does, at the desperate tone of voice and the way you’re still hiding from him. 

“No, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

As usual he’s over apologetic, now sitting knee to knee with you on the mattress and leaning down to try and catch your eye. You huff and grant him some eye contact just so he doesn’t go over the edge with worry. 

“But it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s really not,” he laughs. “It’s cute. I can’t believe you’ve been—what, hiding them from me? This whole time? That’s like not telling me you have kids.”

“It is not like that.”

“Hm. I don’t know, I think you should probably introduce me.”

You give him a look, letting your head fall to your shoulder. “Spencer.”

“I’m serious. I’m going to be apart of their lives now. You can’t keep shoving them under the bed every time I stay the night.”

This nerd is going to be the death of you. 

Eventually, you groan reluctantly. 

“Fine. Okay, um—this one is… well—her name is Bunny. It’s not… very creative, but it’s—that’s just her name, okay?”

Spencer doesn’t react to your unjustified defensiveness—only grabs your bunny’s round little pink paw and shakes. “Enchanted.”

“Shut up.” Your face is so hot as you bury your smile and set Bunny aside, making sure she’s comfortable against the pillow before bringing out your deer. Spencer doesn’t have the shit-eating grin you were partially expecting when you glance up at him from beneath your lashes—he’s smiling, but it’s so soft. A little twisted, like he’s holding back the full extent of it for your sake. But you wouldn’t mind it at full power. It’s like he’s hiding the sun in a saucepan and the lid’s not on quite right. And he’s looking right at you. Like you’re the source of all his joy. 

A moment passes. You clear your throat and look back down. “Um—this is Bambi. ’Cause—you know.”

“I do,” Spencer agrees genially, nodding as if this were a normal conversation. “Kind of a dark thing to name your deer, though.”

“You’re judging,” you accuse balefully. He chuckles and his hand finds your knee, rubbing apologetically. 

“I’m not, I’m not! I take it back. I retract it. Continue, please.”

For a moment you only pout, but it doesn’t deter him—he simply looks at you expectantly, and now those syrupy eyes come with the added bonus of his hand on your leg. Fine. He wins. But not without a deep, tortured sigh from you while you’re grabbing your fox that makes the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

“This one is…”

The name dies on your tongue, too ridiculous to be said out loud. 

“Tell me,” Spencer pleads in that gentle voice and with those big eyes that you’d consider burning him at the stake for because that look on his face has to be witchcraft. 

“Okay but you can’t laugh,” you insist in one quick breath, giving him a serious look that he can only partially reciprocate. 

“No laughing.”

“It’s… Mr. Cuddles.”Spencer bites the inside of his cheek to keep his promise. You melt inside both from embarrassment and from the way it only further defines an already superbly sculpted bone structure. “Do not.”

Spencer scoffs at your warning. “Don’t what? I’m behaving.”

“Don’t make fun of Mr. Cuddles!”

“Does it look like I’m making fun of him?”

“Her.”

“What?”

“Her. Mr. Cuddles is a girl.”

“I see… can you explain that to me?”

“If a human person said I am a girl and I would like you to call me Mister, would you question that? Would you ask them to explain it to you?”

“I guess not.”

“Exactly. Don’t be rude.”The way Spencer is looking at you now, eyes so clear and still so full of affection, like you’ve got some sort of heavenly spotlight trained on you, lips parted as if to say something but still silent, has you forgetting your momentary confidence. You shrink. “What?”

“I just… you’re amazing.” You throw Mr. Cuddles at his chest and fall into your pile of pillows with a groan. Spencer only continues rubbing your leg. It’s very nice, actually. He’s gentle. And patient. “You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe you came to this conclusion just because I introduced you to my stuffed animals.”

“Not solely because of that. There are a lot of contributing factors. I mean, the stuffed animal thing helped.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you insist for the umpteenth time. 

“It’s adorable.”

Spencer pushes pillows aside and lies next to you so you’re eye to eye. It’s nice how his presence isn’t exhausting the way people sometimes are. He’s easy to exist with. He makes you enjoy existing a little more than usual. Even now. 

You raise your eyebrows and speak, cheek squished against fabric. “I’m a serious adult.”

“I know you are,” he assures with a solemn nod. 

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly. 

“Okay… well… don’t go forgetting that. I’m fun but I can also be not fun.”

“I’d love to see that.”

“No you wouldn’t. You would hate it. You’d be so scared.”

Spencer gives up on holding back a smile and moves his hand to tuck hair behind your ear. 

“You’re right. I’m already terrified. The anticipation… it’s killing me, you know?”

You’re giggling as you roll over on top of him and he roots his hand in your hair, pulling you in for a long, smiley kiss like he knew it was coming. Only when he blindly throws your stuffed friends from the bed do you pull away—just by an inch or so. 

“No respect,” you scold playfully. He kisses you again, tangling your legs and hands wandering. 

“Can I apologize later?”

You’re good with that. 

[sennamybeloved]

⛧ SELFSHIPTOBER 2024 ⛧

HELLO ALL! welcome to another year of selfshiptober. i've noticed this is pretty much the 'official' selfship tober event now, which honestly warms my heart! i love seeing what this wonderful community does with my prompts :)

this year, i'm doing things a little differently. EACH DAY HAS TWO PROMPTS ASSIGNED TO IT. the first set is SHIPPY, while the second set is SPOOKY. you may either COMBINE THE TWO PROMPTS TOGETHER or CHOOSE ONE OF THE PROMPTS. the spooky prompts are a bit on the grittier side and probably won't appeal to most, so if you'd like to only use the first set of prompts and completely ignore the second, be my guest! on the other hand, if you prefer the gritter prompts, you can only use the second set of prompts, you can do that too! if you want an extra challenge, you can create a piece that incorporates both of the day's prompts. you can also change your approach depending on how you feel that day!

there are no hard rules for this. YOU CAN START WORKING ON THIS CHALLENGE EARLY, but i encourage you to wait until october to post anything. YOU CAN ALSO CONTINUING WORKING ON IT AFTER OCTOBER ENDS! you can drag this shit out into december for all i care. just DON'T OVERWORK YOURSELF PLEASE.

without further ado, LET US PROCEED TO THE PROMPTS!

#1. confession  |  night.

#2. blanket  |  flame.

#3. embrace  |  blood.

#4. apple picking  |  fog.

#5. all dressed up  |  blade.

#6. carnival  |  haunted.

#7. rain  |  infection.

#8. swim  |  terror.

#9. music  |  masquerade.

#10. warmth  |  claws.

#11. comfort  |  recovery.

#12. married  |  ritual.

#13. party  |  magic.

#14. date night  |  vampire.

#15. games  |  hunt.

#16. candy  |  illusion.

#17. heart  |  feast.

#18. pining  |  violent.

#19. shared hobby  |  potion.

#20. trust  |  experiment.

#21. snuggle  |  nightmare.

#22. kiss  |  scars.

#23. movie night  |  slasher.

#24. baking  |  empty.

#25. rest  |  bandages.

#26. beautiful  |  grotesque.

#27. decorations  |  cemetery.

#28. brush  |  forest.

#29. pumpkin  |  lantern.

#30. flowers  |  snow.

#31. halloween  |  death.

TAG YOUR CREATIONS AS #SELFSHIPTOBER 2024 AND TAG ME IF YOU'D LIKE ME TO SEE! i cannot guarantee interaction as i struggle socially, but i promise i'll look at everything! HAPPY CREATING ♡

[aquaticmercy]

All These Things That I've Done

Summary : In which Bucky leaves behind a loving note every time he goes on a mission. But what happens when you stumble on a letter not meant to be found… yet?

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings : cursing, mentions of death

Requested by : myself haha

Word count : 2.7k

Note : This is just angsty fluff with a happy ending, really. It was inspired by a song by the Killers of the same title. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

You woke up in the early hours of dawn, the sunlight filtering softly through the sheer curtains, blanketing warmth over the room. You rolled over, expecting to find Bucky beside you, but your hand touched only a tangle of sheets. 

Shit. What day was it? You glanced toward the calendar on the wall, and your stomach dropped. Of course. He was supposed to leave for some sort of extraction mission today.

You couldn’t deny the worry rising in your throat. You knew deep down, James Buchanan Barnes was one of the most skilled fighters on the planet. Sam always reminded you of that the last time you saw him, as if he knew how much you worried. He’d battled alien armies and come out with only a few scratches. A mission like this? It ought to be a piece of cake. You pushed anxiety back down your stomach.

The room was eerily quiet, almost haunting. You heard a soft thud from the hallway, followed by Bucky’s muttering to himself from the other side of the slightly open bedroom door. “Where did I leave my gloves?”

You smiled at his gruff frustration and shouted out just loud enough for him to hear, “Did you check the dryer?”

There was silence before you heard a cluster of steps, and then his voice echoed back through from the washing room, “Got it!”

His footsteps made their way back to you as Bucky appeared in the doorway, fully suited up in his gear. He was strapping the glove onto his human hand, his vibranium arm reflecting in the morning light. You couldn’t help but admire him, eyeing him from top to bottom, your breath hitching at how effortlessly handsome he looked in his tactical suit.

“Morning, doll,” he said with that half-smile that always made your heart flutter like a million little butterflies simultaneously beating their wings.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes as he walked over. He reached the edge of the bed, sitting down next to you. He leaned down to brush a strand of hair away from your face and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, making your chest warm with joy. “I didn't mean to wake you up.” He apologised. 

“You didn’t,” you mumbled, still groggy from a dreamless sleep. With a tired smile, you asked, “Did you hide the note yet?”

It was a tradition the two of you had started long ago: before every mission, Bucky would leave you a little note, something for you to find while he was away. A scavenger hunt, if you will, to keep you occupied, to remind you he was always thinking of you. Sometimes the notes were practical—like ‘Don’t forget to drink water while I’m gone.’ Other times, they were a bit longer and heartfelt, and it made you feel closer to him even when he was far—even when you couldn’t feel the warmth of his touch and feel the joy in his kiss.

“Of course,” he replied, chuckling. “First thing I did this morning.”

You reached for his hand, your fingers tracing the edges of his gloved palm, craving the feeling of his bare skin. “Be careful out there, okay?”

He leaned down again, this time pressing a kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered a little longer than usual. “Always am,” he murmured, but you could hear the slight uncertainty in his voice, one that you noticed only because you knew him inside out. You could detect the slightest change of inflection, of intention, in his voice. He’d been like this for the last few missions, and you’d be lying if it hadn’t made you a bit more weary. A bit more on edge.

—

Later that evening, after a long day at work, you found the note.

You had been looking around your shared home, sighing at how empty it felt. How it didn’t feel like home without the love of your life echoing the walls with his laughter, filling the air with his scent. You had missed him so much already.

When you found the note, you had been checking for loose change in your jacket pockets. It was tucked neatly into one of them, and you couldn’t help but smile as you pulled it out, unfolding the familiar handwriting. You always wore this jacket in a specific weather—when the sun was shining and it was windy enough. When you were certain it would not rain. You smiled, knowing Bucky would have had to check the forecast to make sure he put it in the right jacket for you.

The stress of the day melted away in that moment, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread through your chest. His notes always had a way of making everything better.

 This one was short but sweet:

‘Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be home before you know it.’

You smiled, your fingers brushing over the soft texture of paper. Lately, he had been cutting the edges to soften the paper after you told him you got paper cut from one of them.

How had you not noticed it in your pocket all day? Perhaps you had just been distracted. Still, the idea that his words had been with you the whole time made you feel like he’d been by your side, even though he was probably on a different continent by now. You took a deep breath, walking up to your bedroom. You folded it neatly before tucking the note into the small box on your nightstand—the box where you kept all of his letters. By now, there were dozens of small reminders of his love for you.

 You sat on the edge of the bed and opened the box, pulling out a few more letters. You took your time to read through them.

‘Don’t forget to take care of yourself. I know you get so wrapped up in work that you forget. I’ll bring you back something special.’

‘You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you for being patient with me.’

‘When I get back, can we try the new coffee shop down the street? Don’t go without me.’

You chuckled softly at one of the more recent ones. 

‘I may be a super soldier, but I still can’t fold a fitted sheet for shit. You’ll have to show me again when I get home.’

Oh, what a wonderful boyfriend you had.

 —

Two days later, the ache in your chest had only grown. You missed Bucky so dearly, and you were starting to struggle to keep yourself busy from the overwhelming emotions. 

But your worries weren’t yours alone. In the past few weeks, you have noticed subtle changes in Bucky. He was quieter than usual, his smiles a little less frequent. There were moments when he seemed far away, lost in thoughts he didn’t share. You’d catch him staring out the window or slipping away into the early morning hours, as if trying to outrun something you couldn’t see. You didn’t want to press him, not when it was clear he was trying to handle it on his own. But now, in the silence of the empty house, the signs of his unease gnawed at you. 

Cleaning the apartment helped, at least for a little while. But as you organised his things, you found another note. 

It was not hidden in the usual places, not anywhere you would even think to look, therefore not one he expected you to find. 

You wondered why the note was tucked deep into the back of one of his drawers, behind all his mission files that he’d stay up late to read up on. The edges were rounded, so you knew that this would have been somewhat recent.

There was something different about it. Folded smaller than usual, like it wasn’t meant to be found just yet. Or maybe ever.

 Your heart raced as you unfolded it, curiosity getting the best of you. It was a note, right? If it was meant for you, why did you feel so guilty opening it?

But nothing could have prepared you for the words written inside.

‘If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t make it back.

I’m sorry. I tried to be careful. I always try to come home to you every time. But I knew there’d be a day when I wouldn’t make it. 

Maybe this is for the best. You deserve so much better than what I can give you. You deserve better than someone with blood on his hands. You deserve someone who isn’t always living with one foot in the grave.

Please don’t waste your time mourning me. Move on. Be happy. Go get yourself someone who can give you the life you deserve. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you.

I love you more than anything in the world.’

Your hands trembled as the letter fell from your fingers, tears already welling up in your eyes. 

The words on the note blurred as your tears fell. You tried to convince yourself that it was just Bucky’s fear talking, not a premonition. But a voice in the back of your mind whispered, What if he’s right? What if one day he doesn't come back?

What if he’s not coming back?

You’d always been confident about Bucky's ability to survive on his missions. Sure, you’d worry about the odd wound or if he’d get a scar that needed constant medical attention, but death was, more often than not, off the cards. Now that you knew he thought of it, that’s all you could think about. 

Bucky had always been so good at hiding this fear. You knew something was off, but you always thought that he was just a bit nervous, that’s all. 

But here, it was laid bare in his own handwriting. 

It broke your heart that he had already resigned himself to the idea that one day he wouldn’t come home. That his death was inevitable. And worse, that he believed it would be better off that way. 

—

The days dragged on painfully long after you found the note. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart raced uncontrollably. You were expecting news—good or bad—but it was always something else. Work. Or people checking up on you. 

So you used them as a distraction. You threw yourself to work, met with friends, and did anything to stop your worries, but nothing worked. 

Each night, the bed felt colder and lonelier, the house quieter than you would have preferred. Anxiety has already started eating you up and swallowing you whole.

To your relief, Bucky returned a few days later, safe but exhausted. You heard the door click open, and before he could say anything, you rushed to his side, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest, taking in his scent. As he shut the door and dropped his bag, your fingers fluttered on his back, making sure he was real. Then you sunk your palm into him as if he might slip away, as if his life depended on it.

He held you tight, rubbing slow circles on your back, his voice soft in your ear, taken aback by your reaction. You usually cracked a joke or two, or excitedly kissed him on his arrival. “Hey, I’m here. I’m okay.”

Your body was tense—almost skeletal—against his. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding, then quietly said, “I found it. The note.”

His face froze. He knew which one, but he had to ask. “Which one?”

“The one I shouldn’t be reading,” you paused hesitantly, “…yet.”

 Bucky’s expression fell into oblivion, looking pale and empty. He looked away. “I didn’t want you to find that,” he murmured.

Tears stung your eyes as you gripped his jacket tighter. “How long have you been carrying this stupid fucking idea that every mission is your last?”

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words to communicate how he felt. “A couple of months. It’s just how I think now,” he admitted, his voice heavy, raspy. “Every mission feels like it could be the one. And if it is... ” He trailed off, his emotions hanging in the air like a death sentence waiting to be dealt. “Maybe it’s better that way. You deserve someone who can give you a normal life.”

You reached for his hand, stifling quiet sobs, squeezing it tight. “How could you possibly say that? Do you have any idea what it feels like to know you’ve already accepted that you might not come back?”

“There've been a couple of close calls,” he admitted with a heavy heart, and this was the first time you’ve heard of this. You could tell he was just blurting out words, trying to string together an explanation as best he could. “What I’m saying is, If I were out of the picture, you wouldn’t have to worry about these things.”

You sighed, trying to steady your voice but not succeeding. “I don’t want that. I want you, James.” His first name sounded gentle in your tongue. It sounded like a longing, like a cry.

His gaze dropped to the floor, tears brimming in his eyes. “You deserve better.”

He whispered it again, your name escaping his lips like a prayer. Your heart ached. This man, who had fought battles no one could imagine, who had survived horrors and rebuilt himself piece by piece, still didn’t believe he was worth loving.

You took a steadying breath and shook your head, cupping his face gently. “You don’t get to decide what’s better,” you whispered firmly. “Do not tell me what I do or don’t deserve.”

His hands slipped from your waist, almost helpless. You were not letting him lock himself out again, not when you had the chance to pull him out for good.

“Look at me,” you said, a little sharper now, forcing him to meet your gaze, looking into his stormy eyes that once looked as blue as clear skies. “You’ve spent years carrying the weight of everything you’ve done. You’re not that man anymore, Bucky. Deep down, you must know that too.”

He shook his head, his voice hoarse. “I’m always going to be that man. I can’t just erase that.” 

“No,” you agreed, and your hand slipped down to rest against his chest, right over his heart. “But you’re also this man—the man who leaves me little notes before every mission. The man who gets frustrated when he can’t find his gloves. The man who cannot fold a fitted sheet to save his life.” You let a chuckle escape your tight chest, and it coaxed a little, hopeful smile from him, too.

“And I love all of you,” you continued. “The parts you think are broken—I love them all. So stop trying to push me away like you’re some kind of lost cause, because you’re not.”

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering there before pulling back just enough to meet his eyes again. “Talk to me. Let me help. You don’t have to carry this alone, Bucky. But this note—this can’t be the way I find out about these things.” 

His lips quivered, and you could feel the cracks in his fortress gate starting to open. 

His arms wrapped around you in a desperate embrace.

After what felt like silent eternity, Bucky finally spoke, his voice rough with traces of a fragile kind of hope. “I don’t know if I can believe it all right now. But,” he gulped down a sob, “I’ll try. For you.”

“No,” you insisted, an encouraging smile on your lips that made his heart stutter, “for yourself.”

He nodded weakly, and that was enough. 

For a moment, you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside could be burning down, and you wouldn’t care as long as he was safe.

Eventually, Bucky loosened his grip just enough to look down at you, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek. “You sure you want to put up with all this?” He just had to ask. “No take-backs.”

You laughed softly—a cathartic release, the sound filling the quiet room. You nodded, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

For now, it didn’t matter that he didn’t truly think he was worthy of love yet.

For now, you could believe for the both of you.

And one day, maybe he’d believe it too.

-end

[vampiresbloodx]

I've missed you.

pairings: Rio Vidal x Reader

word count: 1.9k

synopsis: Your ex comes back at your doorstep.

warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, face sitting, multiple orgasms, teasing, strap on use, oral sex (r receiving), top!Rio, bottom!reader, modern au without the witch stuff, toxic ex, breakups, slight angst if you squint, squirting, so much porn, a bit of yandere!Rio, possessive and obsessed mention, strap on referred to as a cock/dick, age gap, r is in their early twenties and Rio is older, bit of soft Rio but I love her mean.

It was your usual friday night, the week had ended and work was over for the weekend, you got to relax, do whatever you wanted to do, get things done, it wasn’t like you went out partying a lot like your other friends did, always trying to convince you to join them for a couple of drinks after your shift. You just weren’t always feeling it. 

But tonight you went out. 

Having both Natasha and Yelena talk you into it was easy enough for them, it was hard to deny them both, you loved them, they were complete idiots, matching each others personality perfectly while also being different in their own styles, most wouldn’t even guess they were sisters. 

You actually first met them years ago when the three of you were still kids. Natasha being the oldest and Yelena the baby of the trio. They treated you like you were their own sibling that they looked after, you really did love them a lot and they knew that. 

This week's work schedule was rather intense and stressful, your anxiety building up and getting rather worse, as you probably had to look into changing your meds that you were currently on as they weren’t doing what they were supposed to do anymore. Work has taken up so much of your time that you hadn’t had much of a personal life, you don’t even remember the last time you went out, like actually out, out of the apartment, aside from going for a walk doesn't really count, you felt as though you’ve been stuck inside every time you finish work. Which isn't a bad thing. Rest is good, needed, but for some reason you end up craving to be social and around your friends every so often. 

And tonight you just missed being around them. 

They never failed to cheer you up, make you laugh, they were seriously the best friends you could ask for. 

They were the very friends who convinced you to break up with your ex girlfriend, that was mostly you, but they helped a lot. 

Rio. 

God, even just thinking about her makes your stomach do a flip and your heart skips in your chest, she still has such a strong effect on you that you knew if she was here you’d probably do anything she tells you to do right then and there. 

Shamelessly. 

And willingly. 

She was your first girlfriend that you’ve ever had in your early twenties, she was older than you, which your friends claimed was a red flag alone, with the power imbalance and the age gap, but you didn’t think so. 

Since in the beginning it was paradise. 

She was the absolute best most beautiful girl you had the privilege of calling her yours, sure, she was overly possessive at times, even really protective, always checking everything you do, asking where you went always, no matter the time and place, always just there, it got too much before you knew it. 

She would even threaten some of your colleagues, making assumptions that they were flirting with you, making a move on you, from the way they stared at you, god, it was like no one was allowed near you. 

But you loved Rio. You loved her to death. 

After your rough breakup, you came to wonder if she used that against you, how naive you could be, since she was your first girlfriend, she took advantage of you. 

She knew how inexperienced you were, you had just started your new job when you first met, every time you had an issue with your co worker or your boss, she’d always listen, she was always there, but now when you look back, it felt weird, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but it was like she got off on it. 

How you relied on her so much. 

It wasn’t healthy. And yet you couldn't lie to yourself when you also liked it. 

How much control she had over you, how much of an impact she had, how easily influenced you were by you. If it weren’t for your friends, you’d probably be in a much shitter situation now. 

On nights like this, you can’t help but miss her. 

Your would be anniversary is coming up, you were always the one to plan it, she wasn’t the one to make big gestures, but she did some things. Your heart ached when you had found a sweater of hers she left behind one night as it still smelled like her, you wear it more than you should. 

Your phone suddenly started ringing, startling you as you looked at it, seeing it was Natasha calling, you almost forgot about the plans for tonight as you were so deep in thought of your ex that you realised you should be leaving soon, before you could even answer, there was a knock at your door. 

Weird. 

Natasha was the type to randomly show up even if she called, it didn’t matter, but she’d also just send a text, letting you know she’s here, you weren’t expecting company, you almost wanted to ignore it, there was a part of you that was curious. 

And that won you over. 

Getting up from your couch, you walked towards the door, letting in a breath in and out, your hand reaching out to the doorknob as you twisted it, definitely not expecting her. 

“Rio?” you said, your eyes widening as your mouth hung open. 

She chuckled. 

“Better close that mouth before a fly gets in it” she smiles, you immediately shut your mouth, she used to always say that. 

You noticed the way she was staring at you, the way her eyes roamed shamelessly over your body, you stood there, still not sure what to do. 

“Wow, you look good, going somewhere?” she asks, allowing herself into the apartment as you frowned. 

“Rio, what the fuck?-” you muttered. 

She kept eyeing you up and down, a smirk at her lips as she watched you, you started getting flustered from her gaze, of course, she decided to show up when you thought about her. 

“What do you want” you asked, slightly annoyed. 

She stepped closer, too close, as you licked at your lips, not meaning to, just a stupid habit, and she leaned in, smelling you as you gasped, pushing her off of you. She laughed. 

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” she grinned, her hand coming up as she caressed your cheek, your body shuddered from her touch, you missed her. 

“Rio, w-why the fuck are you here” you asked, stuttering over your own words as your cheeks heated up in embarrassment. 

She cooed, cupping your face in her hand, gripping tightly, she licked her own lips this time, you stared at her tongue more than you should. She saw that. The smell of her perfume overwhelmed you as she’d always wear that specific one, you wanted to feel her. She got onto that pretty quickly, as before you could ask her another question, she pressed her lips to yours. 

She didn’t even give you a chance to speak, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as she kissed harder, her tongue going inside yours, making you gasp as you held onto her, she chuckled, deliberately placing her leg in between your thighs and pressing it against your core, you whimpered from the pressure, you didn’t like all this teasing she does, you missed her too much to tell her to stop. 

You started grinding your hips down on her thigh, as you desperately chased after your high, your entire body burning with want. You didn’t even know what the hell you were doing and why Rio was suddenly in your apartment after a year of not seeing her. Did she ignore the fact that you broke up with her? Why the fuck is she fucking you like it’s a normal friday night. 

Not that you were complaining either way. 

“Hm, I need more of you, baby” she murmured, her voice sending a chill down your spine as you felt her kiss along your neck, sucking at your pulse. You wrapped your hands around her neck, pulling her in closer, afraid if you blinked she’d be gone. “Shhh, I’ve got you, sweetheart, you wanna lay down for me?” she asked softly, pressing a kiss on your lips as she placed you down onto the couch, gently, still kissing down your chest and further. “I’ve missed you.” 

You couldn’t even form a proper sentence or even mumble a reply back, still focused on the way she was touching you. You allowed her to take off your dress that you were going to wear to the club tonight, but you’d much prefer this. She forced your legs apart, taking off your underwear that was already soaked through, she groaned at the sight, Rio grinned, leaning in as she licked up your pussy, causing you to cry out. 

She teased at your clit with her finger, rubbing circles and adding more pressure, pleasure boiling up inside your body as you felt like you were on cloud nine. Your cunt throbbed the more she licked and sucked, she was so good with her mouth, it was one of the things you love her doing to you after the two of you would get into an argument and she’d fuck you with her tongue. 

Your hands gripped at her hair, which was soft, just as you remembered, you were a whining mess, tightening your grip as you rode on her face. She didn’t stop until she got her fill, she easily pushed her finger inside of you, she was always amazed at how wet you were for her. She felt your thighs begin to shake, she watched your face contorted into pleasure as she admired you. It wasn’t long until you broke, you loudly cried out and she still didn’t stop, letting you feel out your high. 

She removed herself from you, immediately stripping herself from her clothes as you watched in a dazed state, she smirked, her hair a mess, Rio grabbed out her fake cock, eyeing you, letting you back out now, when you didn’t, she leaned back in, kissing your lips as she wrapped her hand around her cock, pressing it against your entrance as you whimpered, pushing hips down onto it. Rio used some of your wetness as lube, easily enough the cock eased into your pussy, she groaned, slowly moving her hips as your hands grabbed at her back, your nails digging into her. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so good” she moaned, “You gonna come on my cock? Yeah? No one else can fuck you like I can, this pussy is mine, right baby?” she said, watching as you nod, she loved how she can fuck you sensless to the point where you can’t even speak. 

You held onto her tightly as you came faster than before, you gasped, feeling like you’ve wet yourself, as you opened your eyes, embarrassment hitting you but you were surprised as you saw that you had squirted over Rio’s dick, as it was still coming, she chuckled, looking impressed as her eyes filled with lust. 

“You really missed me, huh?” she teased, your cheeks burned as you couldn’t believe what just happened, all of it feeling like it was a dream. 

And even if it was, you never wanted to wake up ever again.

[i-like-media]

I was wondering when they were going to play with the fact the Doctor is black now. 13 being faced with how people think of women was one of my favourite things in her era, so I was curious how they were going to treat his skin colour this season, if at all.

And honestly, Dot And Bubble exceeded all my expectations on the matter!

What a lot of episodes about racism and bigotry do is coddle the viewer. They make clear early on "this is an episode about RACISM and why it's WRONG!" As if you've never heard of the concept before and don't know it's bad. The episode will often portray racism in an extreme sense and show the viewer the main characters are above that.

What Dot And Bubble did, for the entire episode, was letting the viewer figure it out on their own. There was no coddling, only racism as it silently existed. A perfectly pastel and white community with not a single person of colour and the only visible outlier being a goth white kid. And in this world, the first thing the character we follow did, was to block a black guy with a face of disgust.

The title screen rolls and you're left to rationalise it. Surely it was because he was not in her contact list/saying all kinds of mind blowing stuff... Right? Except when Ruby enters her feed and talks about it, she actually replies back... With an eye roll, but she replies... and keeps talking... and listening.

The episode continues, still not a single POC besides the Doctor. They reveal this is an exclusive place for rich people, and eventually the character in question even admits she thought the Doctor was a different person because "I thought you looked the same".

What this episode also does well, is portraying a character we wish to see change and find a better life behind that change. We see Lindy struggle to navigate the world without her bubble, calling herself stupid, and we genuinely hope she DOES learn to be better, even as you slowly pick up on what's been going on sofar. You are left to hope she'll thank him and realise the error of her ways, and maybe find a new drive to think for herself.

And then she doesn't.

She stays in her bubble, doubling down on how she feels about the Doctor, how they're excited to be like their settler ancestors, and finally CLEARLY revealing to the viewers what's been off this whole time... and the scene asks: did YOU notice the signs? Did you see what went wrong along the way, or did you only notice just now when it's explicitly shown to you? And why do you think that is?

It challenges the perspective of the viewer and tells you to reflect on why you didn't see it coming, and that is so so powerful.

The Doctor's reaction to this scene..... 👌👌👌👌

His mouth is ajar, stunned beyond belief that after all he's done and all he can offer, the offer to literally save their lives, he is reduced to someone who's nothing more than the hue of his skin. He yells at them, telling them he doesn't care what they think of him because he's still the same doctor he's always been, and to still get rejected with a dirty look... Which hits extra hard when you remember how much the Doctor loves being himself. He LOVES being the Doctor again! And he walks with such a pep in his step, celebrating his existence and sharing it with all he meets... and then he tries to save some rich white kids from certain death.

His performance in that moment was literally phenomenal. It's a narrative that's so powerful and so creative in its execution, my jaw was still on the floor throughout the credits.

This episode is definitely up there as one of my favourites sofar