#wow I have been meaning to make this post for a while

[zepskies]

Hey! I just wanna start with saying that I read, I think, nearly every work you posted (all the Jensen’s ones at least) and I absolutely loved all of them. I mean the writing and the storylines are really amazing and I think you’re an incredible writer!! <3

Now I myself want, maybe not publish, but even just to write for myself a story. A Dean’s fanfic to be exact. I have an idea in my head of the story that I’ve slowly been building for the last year through imagining. I even wrote down a few bullet points ideas so I’ll have something to begin with, but I have no idea how to continue from here.

When it comes to verbal expressions, I have no idea what to do, or developing a plot, also clueless. Just the whole writing process no fucking idea, but I really want to learn.

So I was really hoping if you could give me some advices on how to write a story, how to develop the plot, how to write characters, original ones or ones that already exist in the media, without you know the story sounding like an AI wrote it or a 13 yo on wattpad.

Thank you very much ahead and have a lovely day!!<3 <3

Wow, thank you very much! I'm glad you enjoy my writing. It always makes me so happy when people give me feedback on my stories. 🥰🥰 And that's awesome that you want to start writing your own story with Dean!

You're on the right track with the bullet points -- it sounds like you're starting to create a loose outline. If you want to know a bit about my writing process, that's exactly where I start after creating the initial idea/paragraph synopsis of the story I want to write.

There are two kinds of writers, in my opinion:

Architects: writers who outline.

Adventurers: writers who freeform.

(More on this, my process, + some of my favorite creative writing resources and tips below the cut):

In most respects, I consider myself an Architect. My brain craves structure. So the way I beat writer's block while working on a project is by having a roadmap of what's going to happen next. That's thanks to my outline.

Even if you find yourself more of a freeformer, you can develop some kind of pre-writing plan, whether that's creating a list of character bios, starting with the basic 3-Act triangle, or writing out a handful of bullet points to get you going.

For my personal process, I'll go from creating the basic premise/summary, to some loose bullet points of the story structure, to then fleshing out into full outlining of each chapter and scene, and finally drafting (and editing).

While I'm outlining, I'm also doing research and fact-checking as needed to get me through to the next scene and the next, until the end. My "roadmap" tends to be very detailed, so when I get to the drafting part, all I should have to reference is my outline.

Now, this doesn't mean that plot points won't change, or get switched around, or get chucked entirely. But if I have the blueprints of the house, I can change a window or a door, or even a whole support beam here and there, so to speak.

As far as the actual development of plot, character arcs, and good dialogue, I would really recommend you take a creative writing class! There are probably free ones online, but there are also a lot of other great resources. Here are a few I can share with you:

On Storytelling:

Save the Cat - Blake Snyder's theory on storytelling is one of the most popular across screenwriting and novel writing, and you can apply it to your fanfic. Above all, story is story, no matter the medium. Pay special attention to Snyder's Beat Sheets. You can begin to figure out the plot of the story using that as a guide.

11 Plot Types to Build Your Novel - linked this earlier in the post, but putting it again here.

5 Tips for Beating Writer's Block - One of my posts that could help you get unstuck, if/when you do get stuck (we've ALL been there).

Joseph Campbell - The Hero's Journey - Very common in coming of age stories, origin stories (as in superheroes), and high fantasy.

Narratology - Mieke Bal - One of my favorite books on narrative elements and technique. Literally a study of narrative.

On Dialogue:

Good scenes are built with a balance of smart and necessary dialogue, and exposition (what's happening in the scene, description of the characters' actions and thoughts/inner monologues, and any atmospheric details).

Dialogue is about how the characters are interacting with each other. It's about creating a moment where subtext is important -- meaning that what isn't said is just as important as what is being said. A scene can shift in tone from humor, to angst, to hurt/comfort, to fluff, etc. For me, these shifts most often happen when I'm writing the characters' dialogue with each other.

Characters should have distinct voices. When writing fanfiction, I'm always trying to make sure the canon characters sound like themselves in their dialogue and inner thoughts, as well as act like they would, based on their personality traits (including strengths, weaknesses, and insecurities).

How to Write Great Dialogue (Masterclass article)

Tips for Writing Dialogue

How to Write Dialogue in Fiction

How to Write Good Dialogue in a Novel

On Creating Compelling Character Arcs:

This goes hand-in-hand when you're developing the plot, because in my opinion, the best stories are character-driven. Meaning that their choices shape how the narrative moves. On the whole, things don't just happen to characters -- they made decisions that have either positive or negative consequences.

Characters have a goal that they're aiming for, and of course, there should be obstacles that try and prevent the main characters from getting that thing.

Torment Your Hero in 8 Steps

Joseph Campbell's Hero Journey (linked above) can also help to craft an epic character arc. Note: you don't need to include all those steps in a story.

The Structure of Romance - a basic structure of the genre (basically of romantic comedies), but not the end-all-be-all of writing romance stories. Reread or rewatch your favorite romances! Take a look at the structure and see what similarities you find and what aspects you want to include in your own story.

Basically, there's nothing new under the sun, but you can still create your own story with your own unique voice based on the aspects of relationships, character archetypes, worlds, genres, and tropes that bring you joy! 💜

Thanks for dropping into my inbox, hun! Let me know if any of this helps. 😉

[shifting-empress]

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐆𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐑

𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐑

𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

Wow, it’s been a while! I apologize for the long hiatus—I’ve been so caught up with work that I barely had time to breathe, let alone shift or post.

One of the biggest misconceptions in the shifting community is that when you start remembering new details about your DR or when you tweak your DR script, you’re somehow choosing a different DR than the one you originally intended. But the truth is, these moments of clarity don’t mean you’re switching realities—they mean you’re channeling your DR more accurately.

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐑 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝—

𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐈𝐭

Think of your DR like a fully formed world that already exists. You, as the shifter, are tuning into it like a radio station. At first, the signal might be fuzzy, and you might only pick up on major details. But as your connection strengthens, the picture gets clearer, and you start to recall things you didn’t initially write down or even realize were significant.

For example, in my DR, my ability is called “The Nightshade That Only Bloom at Night,” and its mechanics of mind control mirror how nightshade poison works. I didn’t know this at first—it was just the name that resonated with me. It was only later that I realized the deeper connection between the ability’s function and the real-world properties of nightshade. Similarly, I didn’t consciously choose my DR’s signature scent, but when I later discovered it matched the fragrance of the belladonna flower, it made perfect sense. These weren’t random changes—they were deeper truths of my DR that I was finally able to access.

𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 =

𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐑𝐬

Editing your script isn’t the same as creating a new DR—it’s about aligning yourself with what was already there. Sometimes we write scripts from a limited perspective, using what makes sense to us at the time. As we shift deeper and strengthen our bond with our DR, we naturally refine the details. This isn’t rewriting reality—it’s just remembering it better.

This is why getting “new” memories, realizing new details, or even altering certain aspects of your DR doesn’t mean you’re moving to a different DR. It means your channeling is stronger, and you’re peeling back the layers of what was always there.

Instead of worrying that you’re accidentally switching DRs or “making things up,” trust that you’re gaining a clearer view of your DR as it truly exists. The more you connect with it, the more details will naturally emerge—sometimes even things you never would have consciously thought to add. Instead of resisting these revelations, embrace them. They’re proof that your connection is strengthening and that your DR is more real and vivid than ever.

[amostexcellentblog]

I will never forget the day I discovered “wingmen” was already used as a euphemism for gay lovers before the Top Gun fandom got ahold of it.

Oh, but hey, it’s probably just a coincidence, it’s not like there’s any proof the cast or filmmakers were aware of this, by all accounts, obscure queer historical aviation romance. It’s not like the top half of the cover art mirrors a famous scene from the fil… wait…

“You can be my wingman anytime”

“Bullshit, you can be mine” indeed Tony Scott.

[impactrueno]

(i got this comment on my comic over at twitter and i thought i'd repost my response here too, because i've gotten similar comments on my other socials)

these are very kind words and i accept the compliment, it makes me happy to see people are enjoying reading through it! but i have to disagree with a couple of things. i think we need to give more credit to the source material here

i am borrowing elements from the sequel. lydia's daugther, beetlejuice and lydia not seeing each other in 30 years, lydia forgetting somewhere along the way what it means to be your strange and unusual self, all of these are parallels i made to the sequel.

i strongly disagree this is how the sequel should've been done. i try to stick to canon as much as i possibly can, but the tone of this comic isn't really beetlejuice. the movie is a dark comedy first and foremost, and the sequel ticked almost every box of what it should be about

beetlejuice's character is gross and weird of course, but every iteration has depth to them. i wouldn't have been able to write this comic otherwise! i'm not really making up BJ's personality here, i'm doing a character study of what is already there, set to a different tone.

i'm saying all this because knowing this is important in order to really appreciate the story i'm presenting. there's no need to praise things i didn't actually do, haha.

i'm aware that there's many people enjoying it without knowing anything about beetlejuice, so i'm not saying you HAVE to be connoisseur or anything. but if you are, you'd notice the callbacks to the show, including the one episode a lot of this conversation is built around.

sorry this got longwinded; i want to say once again that i appreciate the comment! i mean absolutely no offense to Timmy here, it was a sweet thing to say and i hope it's okay that i used this comment as a springboard to say some stuff that's been on my mind

[pluvio-floret]

Ah, tragedy au (said like Dungeon Meshi. Winged Lion voice.)

Original post

[sluckythewizard]

Keep calm, and drink soda

[CW for blood and gore and vomit] takes place a day or two after emizel was sired. just two boys adjusting to a shift in their daily norms. would YOU drink your homies blood? still not used to writing fanfic so any and all advice IS appreciated. i hope u enjoy.

There were very few things that Soda enjoyed more than well, drinking soda. It was a hobby, an interest, a comfort. And by extension there were very few errands that Soda would look forward to more than the occasional soda run.

The gas station closest to the Demons hideout had stopped selling Faygo entirely about a month or two ago, and it was near impossible to find it anywhere else. The closest place was now this janky little Shell gas station, lovingly titled the Shady Shell, that thankfully sold more flavors than any of the other ones ever did.

It made the hour and a half walk here entirely worth it. Even if this side of town made his skin crawl. Normally he would ask someone to accompany him on this daring little quest, but everyone at the hide out tonight just seemed too tired, too preoccupied, too uninterested.

He knew not everyone really got the soda thing, but they were accepting of it for the most part. Soda is something that, clearly, Soda really loves, but he knew not everyone else was into it.

Which was fine, of course. They didn't need to get it. But, still, sometimes Soda found himself wondering how much of it was a bit, and how much was him.

Emizel gets it perfectly though. He would've been the first person Soda would ask to go on this soda run with him, but, well. He's been preoccupied too, with the whole vampire thing.

It's been a bit more than a day since Soda had last seen his close comrade. For a friend that he saw just about everyday, going without him this long left him feeling a little emptier.

That was fine, though. Emizel had shit he was working out, he had things he needed to do. It's not like he could go out in the day anymore, so of course Soda wouldn't be seeing him at all the usual times.

It was a lot of weird and heavy magical stuff, it made Soda think about those superhero shows. Where the hero needs to keep his identity hidden from everyone. Family especially. He knows how much of a piece of shit Emizels dad is, so he hoped that Emizels home life wasn't stirred up all stupid-like over this.

He hasn't told anyone else, about what happened that night. For the last 2 days, Soda would spend time with close friends and not let them know a thing about what happened to Emizel so, so recently. Why he's so suddenly absent, so distant, so.. off…

'Maybe his dad's just giving him a hard time', he would say, hoping to smother their questions. The less questions they ask, the better. At least until this vampire stuff gets figured out a bit more. Should Emizel wear a disguise when he goes out at night now? Just like a superhero? What kind of hero outfit would Emizel have anyways? Soda figured it would be something really cool.

If anyone could figure out a way to balance all this vampire stuff, and all the leaderly responsibilities that come with being the biggest dog in the Demons, it was Emizel for sure. That guy is so seriously cool.

He was sure this rough patch would even out, and they would weather the next rough patch together no problem. There was really nothing to worry about! All Soda has to do is stay positive, and well, drink soda.

As Soda walks quietly down the crumbling sidewalks of this dreary hive of strip malls and shops, he goes to pull his backpack around to his chest, fumbling with the zipper in the dark. Which was a little annoying, considering the tab of his zipper had fallen off forever ago. He really needed to get around to fixing this damn thing. Maybe another ziptie and a soda tab will do the trick.

Humid air hangs heavy in the night, the sidewalks still somewhat warm after a hotter day. The diesel-soaked air provided enough warmth on its own that Soda had considered taking his jacket off a few times, only for the occasional, annoyingly sharp and chilly breeze to brush by, reminding him to keep the thing on.

Tripping only once and only slightly on an uneven sidewalk, Soda manages to pull a bottle of Faygo from his backpack, a smile glowing on his face. Another short fight with the zipper seals up the bag, and he slings it over his shoulder again.

His flavor of choice tonight was actually the Red Pop, the tried and true, the absolute classic, one of the best Faygo flavors for sure.

But, this kind wasn't actually his favorite. Normally he would stock up on the cotton candy ones, but something about the last few days had him craving the red stuff.

Securing his backpack all the way, he goes to crack open the bottle. Just the clack and the hisssss of the fizzy drink were enough to lift his mood.

Not that his mood needed lifting or anything. Of course. Sure he missed his friend and sure he found himself wondering what he’s doing and where he is and if he's okay. Maybe sometimes he found himself wishing they talked about funeral plans more.

Emizel talked up all sorts of crazy funeral ideas for himself, usually involving the use of his dead body as an inconvenience for others. Outlandish and hilarious ideas, like filling it with explosives and tossing it into a busy road. But what would he want seriously? What would Soda ever do if he just stopped showing up one day?

He had to swallow down all these unnecessary anxieties, so he took a swig of his soda. Sweet, bubbly, comforting. He felt better already! Just stay positive, and drink soda..

It was a lovely night out, and he didn't come all this way planning on letting it go to waste. There was a place he was heading towards, a particular alleyway in this particular place that led off to a particularly tall concrete ledge.

 It was a run-down little space, littered with trash and shitty trees and those bushes with just too many goddamn ants in them. But the view was fairly nice, overlooking a massive deformed intersection. A particularly stupid one, at that; about 3 times a week you could witness a gnarly crash at this spot. Soda always heard people saying that LA folks can't drive, but he was just starting to figure that maybe no one can drive.

That was the place he really wanted to go to enjoy this soda, and he wasn't too far off from it. Just a few more blocks, and he would be there.

Oh wait, didn't he still have a bag of chips in this backpack somewhere? Hell yeah, he couldn't wait to sit down and relax with a good soda, a good snack, and a good view of the night.

Living as a Demon had its fair share of stresses. He felt lucky to have this life, but he knew well that it could be better. That not everyone has to worry about survival the way they do. That not everyone gets injured on the regular and not everyone has to worry about being sick and never getting better.

Living is hard. But it's finding the small moments of joy that make it all worth it. Dying would be scarier anyway. He didn't want to die, and he felt glad to feel so confident in that nowadays.

The sudden   THUNK  of something slamming into the ground just a block away from him, jolts him out of his thoughts, all his gears screeching to a halt as he freezes in place. What the fuck was that?

It looked like a person, laying flat on the ground with only their head and shoulders peeking out of the alleyway ahead. Fuck. He hated this side of town..

Anxiety churns in his stomach as he debates just turning around, but the way the victim reaches an arm out, attempting to crawl away; it made his heart ache aswell. he's no goddamn fighter, but he couldn't just leave someone like th-

The body is suddenly yanked back into the alley, snatched at a startling speed. It didn't feel exactly real, how could something vanish so fast? It reminded Soda of something from a horror movie, or whatever. What the fuck was that??

His foot takes a step forward, before the rest of his body notices its rebellion and locks down again. Was he seriously going to investigate that? He could just walk away and take another alley. But that was the one he was supposed to turn down! All the other alleys are either walled off or gated off and he wasn't about to go climbing over a damn wire gate. His soda would get too shaken up! Fuck!

Another foot goes in for another step forward. He's gotta get the fuck out of here. He could hear more commotion in the alleyway, a scuffle, a skirmish. He could hear someone cursing through a choked breath. A loud and nauseating crack echoes out from the alley, and yet, Soda takes another step forward.

This was stupid, he shouldn't be getting tangled up in someone else's business. What if something happened to all this soda?

Thankfully, it was that thought that actually got him to pause, and take in a deep breath. It wasn't worth it, maybe he should head straight home.

Atleast, that was the thought his heart and mind were about to agree on, until a particularly familiar grroowwwwlll bleeds out from the alley.

Emizel?

All reason immediately evaporates as Soda makes that connection in his head, stepping right up to the corner of the brick walls, and peering around to investigate.

There was a body on the floor, face down in a puddle of red, head split open in a way that reminded Soda of a smashed watermelon.

But standing over that body, was the familiar, blackened coat, and short blonde hair, of Sodas closest comrade, Emizel.

Despite the carnage on the floor, Soda couldn't help the smile that lights up his face. That was Emizel! That was his boy!

But before he could get over just how happy he felt to see his best friend, something else caught his eye. Movement, behind the dumpster closest to the vampire boy. A person, rising out from the shadows with a glinting baseball bat clutched fiercely in their hands.

"Oh fuck, look out!" Soda speaks up, and Emizels gaze immediately clicks over to him, silencing Soda with just that startlingly red stare.

He had forgotten just how uneasy those red eyes made him..

The attacker, silent and professional, rushes up behind Emizel and CRACKS the metal bat downwards onto his blonde head, the sound ringing out like a  gun shot  in that dark little alleyway.

Soda cringes from just the sound of the impact, but was amazed to find that the bat had warped under the force of it!

The attacker hardly had a chance to process his mangled weapon before Emizel whips around to retaliate.

It looked like he had just swung his hand at his opponent, so the way a shower of red spills outward from the slash, catches Soda completely off guard. The monster boy had cleaved an excruciatingly massive gash up from the attackers right hip, to his left shoulder, the slice spewing with scarlet.

 It wasn't until Emizel had pulled back his arm, that Soda could process the way it had darkened with more than just blood, distorted into an odd, spear-like shape.

The victim hardly had a chance to yelp before that blade swoops up into his chest at the speed of a snapping bear trap, plunging through meat and bone with disturbing ease, and forcing blood and viscera to erupt outwards. The red patters down onto the concrete behind, the sound similar to rain...

With another low, inhuman snarl, Emizel brings the twitching, dying body closer, until that signature squish of teeth sinking into fresh meat bleeds outward into the space.

What a disgusting sound, Sodas first instinct was to simply avert his eyes, but as the sound persists, he resolves that he has to do something.

He finally steps out into the alley, and speaks.

"Hey ma-"

He could hardly get two words out before Emizel suddenly rips its teeth away from its victims throat, tearing out a hefty chunk of jellied meat, and slamming the remaining fodder onto the concrete floor.

It immediately whips around to stare down Soda, red eyes glowing with reflected light, and with hardly a chance to process the moment-

-It's immediately right infront of Soda.

A gasp lurches from Soda's lungs as he almost stumbles back in shock. How was Emizel so fucking fast?

Other than that single step back, Soda was frozen in shock, his tongue buzzing with the physical pain of such a startling jolt. 'White boy jumpscare' is something that came to mind, but while usually such a thought would evoke some sort of laugh from Soda, this time it offered no such comfort. Okay maybe it did a little.

Emizels snarling face was only inches away from Sodas. Its eyes were wild and unnatural, teeth menacingly sharp and reddened with so much fucking blood. It was everywhere, coating most of his face, smothering his shirt and his coat, and absolutely choking the air with its thick, metallic stench.

Soda would gag if he felt he was safe to even move. He felt like he was locking eyes with that of a creature, something he would only ever see in his nightmares or in scary movies. But it was real. Those monsters are real. And his best friend is one of those monsters. His bestest friend in the world...

His mind was skewered on that unnatural glare, completely frozen with anxiety. Stalling too hard to come to a proper conclusion, Soda instead falls back onto what Soda does best.

"H-hey man... You want some soda?"

He very gently presses the opened bottle of Faygo into Emizels chest.

The two boys stand there for a moment, locked in a tense, silent pause, before the monster boy finally peels its gaze down to the bottle.

It's quiet, for a few seconds, the gears turning in its head. Until the monster blinks, and its eyes clear, and Emizel processes the sight of the bottle.

"Oh, fuck yeah dude, is that the Candy Apple Faygo? Man, that stuffs my favorite!" Emizel smiles as he goes to accept the bottle, and immediately takes a massive swig.

Soda tries to disregard the way his hands were still shaking. "Uh, n-nah man, its just Red Po-"

The words are bit off as Emizel suddenly retches, a heavy flood of red blood and red Faygo spewing out onto Soda, as the vampire boys body entirely rejects the fizzy drink.

The shock of getting fucking projectile vomited on had snapped Soda out of whatever daze he was just in, and it seemed to snap Emizel out of it too. Soda backs up with a groan, looking down at all the blood and bile and pop on his shirt and coat.

"Ohhh fuck dude, what the hell??" He cringes, not even wanting to try smearing any of it off with his hand.

Emizel was coughing, still holding out the Faygo bottle, but hunched over as his body dared to convulse again.

"Ohhhhhh fuck, ohhooohhh fuuuuucckkk" he grumbles towards the floor "Fuuuck I’m sorry dude, I don't know what fuckin- oohhhgg shit,” He coughs and groans,  offering the bottle back to Soda.

Soda was still staring at his messied coat with a displeased grimace, but looking up to meet Emizels eyes...

There was a guilt on Emizels face that Soda didn't see too often, and it helped wash away that irritation he felt. This sucked, but Emizel was probably going through a lot more. 

“It’s, uhm.. don't, don't worry about it, man..” Soda decides to reassure him, offering a sympathetic smile, and a hand on Emizels shoulder, as his comrade spits out the remaining blood and bile.

"Fuckin hell… I’m uh, I'm sorry about your shirt, man."

"What? Nahh it's okay man, don’t worry about it." Soda shrugs, taking the Faygo bottle back. "I mean, are you okay man? That uh.. looked like a pretty crazy fight."

Emizel was rubbing his eyes, smearing more blood across his face as he seems to be collecting himself. he spares a glance back at the carnage behind him.  

"Ah.. yeah.. I thought I uh.. I thought I saw that one fucker from uh. That one night. Yknow, the one that uh.." He snaps his fingers, as if trying to summon back the memory. "Vampire bitch... Anyway after that I just kind of, uh.."

He seems to space out again as he looks around. It was as if he was just woken up from a deep sleep, like he was certain he had just known what he was doing, but found the dream escaping him. "I guess I just.. went crazy on these guys. I dunno, they're Fangs anyways." he finally shrugs it all off, but Soda still felt unsatisfied by the answer.

"Oh.. huh…” is the only response he manages to scrounge together. Sure they were Fangs, but did they really deserve.. all that? It just seemed a bit brutal, even by Emizels standards.

He found his eyes wandering over to the split-open head. It was mostly red and bloody, but even in the dark, he could still make out some of the finer details of the gray jelly seeping from the gash. A human brain. He wondered if his own brain looked the same on the inside..

“So what are you doing out here, man?” Emizels question helps Soda pull his eyes away from the gore, instead looking over to his bloodied comrade.

Emizel looked messy and even exhausted, but his drowsy gaze was focused on Soda with a worried expression. 

“Oh, uh, yknow, just a soda run. Decided I would stock up on some Faygo from the Shady Shell.” Soda shrugs, his eyes flickering down to the opened Faygo in his hand. The top was covered in regurgitated blood. unnaturally blackened blood…

“Are you.. okay, by the way? Other than the whole..” Soda gestures vaguely at the gruesome crime scene. “Are you hurt?”

The question has Emizel pausing to consider. He straightens his back and stretches his arms, as if trying to detect any pain from any possible injury. Nothing seemed to be bothering him though, and after a second, he decides to shrug.

“Nah, I'm all good.”

“Oh.. That's good, I uh…” Soda found himself looking over Emizel aswell, searching for any wounds the monster boy might be simply disregarding, as he often does.

There was a fairly gnarly gash on his shin..

“Hey uh, I was actually gonna go hang out by the ledge down that way. Yknow, the one with the funny intersection.” Soda says, gesturing off towards where he intended to go. “Wanna come with?”

Emizel looks back that way, before turning back to Soda with a big smile on his face. 

“Oh hell yeah I do! I love the funny intersection!” he starts to walk down the alley, about to step over the body of the broken skull, when Soda speaks up.

“Uh, hey, shouldn't we uh.. Do something about the.. uh..” He waves a hand over towards the bodies, trying not to look directly at them. 

Emizel spares the corpses an inconvenienced glance, and a sigh, but ultimately shrugs them off. “Ehhh I'll just dump 'em in a dumpster again.. That's what I've been doing anyway.”

“And you're not worried about, like, anyone finding them?”

Soda anxiously watches on as Emizel paces around the body with the torn-out throat, licking the blood from his own mouth. Was his tongue always that long and pointed? That's neat, and normally Soda would point it out, but he was a bit.. preoccupied right now 

“Nahh not really. I haven't had anyone bother me at least.. Anyone been bothering you?” Emizels eyes finally flick back over to Soda. 

“Nah, I'd say things are actually more lax than usual. Anything that would end up being trouble’s been pretty much crushe- er, killed- destr- stamped out, by uh, by you.” Sods was cringing with every attempt to find a word that didn’t make his stomach turn, but Emizel didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Emizels eyes were currently a bit more focused on the body laying before him. He had that weird look on his face again… 

“Uhh, yeah, yeah that's good that uh, no troubles coming back to you guys…”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two as Emizel stares at this corpse, and Soda was about to open his mouth to fill the silence, but Emizel speaks up instead.

“Hey uh, why don’t you go ahead of me? I’ll uh, I'll meet you at the place.” He suggests, pointing vaguely off down the alley, but not removing his eyes from the kill. 

Soda certainly hesitates, his eyes narrowing before he even forms a thought. He opens his mouth to object, but then his eyes flicker back towards the body.

“Are you gonna eat this one too?”

The question leaves Sodas mouth as soon as it comes to mind.

Emizel pauses, and considers, before giving a shrug. “I don't see why not. Perfectly good blood.” He reaches down to grab his kill by the shirt, the one with the split open head. As the corpse rises from the concrete, gray matter drips and sloughs from the crack in its skull. Once again, Soda felt the need to look away, and yet his stupid eyes remained fixated on the horrendous sight. Emizel looks over the spilling brain of his meal, licking his lips curiously. “Dude, what do you think would happen if I ate his brain?” Emizel asks, looking back over to Soda with a wild, bloodied smile. Something about that look made Soda shiver, but.. Not really in a bad way… “Uh, I.. Dunno…. Eating a persons brain is how you get like, mad cow disease right? But you might also be immune to disease.. Are you immune to disease?” “Uhhh, I don't know yet actually. I'm still figuring out how much of this is like video games,” Emizel says, rubbing the back of his head as he idly sways the body of his kill around, watching the blood and gore drip and drop from its broken head. “Eh, I'll chance it later.” Without another word or thought, Emizel goes to sink his teeth into the shoulder of his kill, a pleased growl radiating from him as the blood gushes around the bite. More fresh blood upon less fresh blood upon old blood upon older blood. Just so much fucking blood. Soda thought he was used to seeing blood, but this… this was just egregious. Was he really starting to get used to this? It’s just blood after all, and it’s not from his comrades, so it's… fine… He finally manages to pull his eyes away from the gruesome sight of Emizel feeding, but his eyes instead wander down to the blood on his own shirt. Emizels blood was strange, darker than usual, and carrying a different scent. Something about the smell of his blood was more savory, more appealing than the standard metallic miasm. His shirt was smothered in it, his jacket was coated in it, and his opened bottle of Faygo was also splattered with the deep red ichor. Ink swirls within the bottle of red fizzy, spreading out into all sorts of odd patterns. It was a lot of blood. He was certain a lot of it came from however many people Emizels been feeding on. With how much hes been terrorizing the Fangs in just the last few days, and with how nonchalantly he feasts on his kills, who knows how much blood hes actually ingested… Soda swirls the bottle, watching the blood inside thin out into strands, dancing within the bubbly soda as they gradually dissipate, fully assimilating into the drink. A bad idea chews at the back of his head… The sound of ripping flesh once again knocks at Sodas head. He doesn’t look up this time, but he knew Emizel was just playing with his food again..  Did blood taste good to a vampire? Did some blood taste better than others? What did Sodas blood taste like? What did Emizels blood taste like? There's a visceral snap of something among the chewing and ripping, very clearly a bone or a joint snapping out of place. It made Soda shiver a little. When did his heart start pounding? There's an animal standing only 8 feet away from him, feeding on its kill. That animal is a person, and so is its kill. He wanted to know what vampire blood tasted like, but he already knew what human blood tasted like. It hung so densely in the air, he could feel it forming a vile film over his tongue. The blood of a person just like him. Eaten by an animal that eats people.  All this stress was no good. This bile rising to his throat was no good. This creeping anxiety was no good. He's friends with an animal that eats people. Would it eat him? This weird feeling was no good. Maybe it will never eat him. But it needs to eat people. This worry was no good. He needed to wash this awful taste from his mouth, replace it with something sweeter. He needed to keep his head clear enough to be there for Emizel when he needed to be. He needed to hold a light to these shadows. And he needed to stay positive, and drink soda. He takes a swig of the open Faygo bottle.

[corviiids]

complaining about creative writing post

[transmascutena]

these lines hit different when you read utena as transmasc

[outlying-hyppocrate]

i really, truly, terrifyingly am unaware of who i am as a person. obviously, interests don't make up an entire personality. but what am i without them? the labels i use to describe myself no longer fit me. i have these swathes of names in my head that i don't want to belong to me and they do nonetheless. i am rotting. i am dying on the inside. one day i will fit to my own ideals and i will be happy and healthy and see beautiful sunlight stream through my windows again.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

has happened plenty around iconis goings on but what an all-timer

[stabyou]

the way i need genuine intense psychological rewiring just so i can talk to people in a normal setting is just crazy to me. i would ask what happened to me but i have always been this way, it just keeps getting worse and worse

[variationsonacloud]

thank you for the mcpriceley yuri art i Love Loge you

ofc!!! im always happy to spread the word of mcpriceley yuri (albeit through silly drawings) :3

[rustybutterknife]

redditors and fakeclaimers in general are losers. you could be the "perfect" archetype of a system and theyd still find a way to fakeclaim you, dont take their opinions to heart. its rough, and easier said than done, but YOU know your experiences better than some asshole on one of the social media apps.

i hope you have a good day :>

Thank youuu

I feel like the whole “fakers/disordered” shit is very similar to the whole “truscum/tucute” arguments on tumblr/reddit that went on in the late 2010’s

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

I know I'm sort of rapid-posting here a little bit but I've been really wanting to read the Chasing Storm book again but because I can't at the moment I'm rewatching Cars 3 and I'm realizing more and more I have less and less proper reasoning if I get questioned why I like him.

Which I'm now giggling over remembering how I used to skip over the entire middle part of the movie because I just wanted the bits of him in the beginning and ending segments. First movie that I learned every entire bit of dialog to. I used to do the dishes to that movie playing.

[sheyshen]

no no i'm not thinking about varian again, not at all

[thebibliosphere]

In the never-ending quest to alleviate my migraines, I bought a special angled pillow that lets you sleep on your side while your arm just kind of hangs through a whole in the middle. I did this because I’m a left-sided sleeper, always have been.

Until my neck subluxated and now I can’t sleep on that side without compressing some vital nerves and blood arteries. I also can’t sleep on my back right now because the pressure compresses my occipital nerve. Basically sleeping has been a nightmare recently, but that’s not the point of this post.

The point was I brought this up in physical therapy to talk about how great this pillow is because I can now sleep on my right side without the stupid thing going numb or waking me up because it hurts. And my PT was like wow, great! How did you sleep on your left side for so long without it being an issue?

And I said, oh that’s easy. I just tuck that shoulder out of the way.

And she said, ...what?

And I said, yeah, I just tuck it out the way. Not like my right shoulder. That one doesn’t move as well. It just hurts, I think there’s something wrong with it.

And my physical therapist asked me to demonstrate what I mean when I say I ‘tuck my shoulder out of the way,’ and haha, you’re never going to believe this, turns out I’ve just been casually pulling my left shoulder out of the socket for, oh, let’s see, 30 years? And then napping on it like hmmnm yess comfy.

Anyway. I looked up from my demonstration and my physical therapist was making this face: