#feel free to use these ideas btw

[sir-subpar]

I just had some ideas/thoughts about vampires 🤔

We all know vampires drink blood, but I always liked thinking about *how* they did it.

Are they like vampire bats in the real world, who just use their fangs to cut open a small wound and have a straw-like fixture under their tongues to consume the blood through? Or would their fangs have straw-like tubes in them?

Or do they just suck on the wound really hard (imagine getting attacked by a vampire and having a hickey 😂)

What if they had venom that functions like an anticoagulant? You know, to prevent people from blood clotting so they can drink blood faster?

Would they fight werewolves and zombies because they share a similar food source? Or would vampires be chill since they don't eat the entire human, they just drink the blood.

*(Not to mention, there's versions of vampires that don't drink all of the blood in a person, so technically they could leave people alive)

Would a vampire not drinking blood suffer symptoms of dehydration or starvation? Maybe a combination of both?

Are some vampires conventionally attractive because it means more humans will spend time with them? Y'know, lower people's guard and whatnot?

[starrysharks]

"it happens all the time, it happens all the time", a tautology of self-delusion - a one-way love affair that turned me into a weak rabbit

[tinkerbitch69]

So, ummm… how long until people use the line ‘the vocabulary of rope’ in a 15th doctor bondage smut fic?

[miiukkaa]

sharing some details i have had bouncing in my head with this specified area in the subway lair layout i'd drawn :)

a lot of the arcade machines got destroyed in the old lair, thus diminishing the boys' large game collection. a handful of these game machines can be seen scattered about the subway lair in the movie, though i believe this to be temporary for the most part ("we're just moving in so just put it wherever for now" kinda vibe). after the events of the movie, most (if not all) of the arcade machines would have instead been moved to a more designated area to spare anyone the headache of having to find that one specific game you wanna place at an odd corner in the home.

the layout i'd been planning is meant to be more established and overall feel more lived (maybe one to two years in after the second season). i had mikey spraypaint ⭐ glow-in-the-dark stars ⭐ over the arcade floor as to mimic the traditional arcade carpets!! of course, other surface areas were not spared from graffiti either, with my favorite one being "loser buys pizza" on one of the arcade machines (a near unnecessary mention, honestly, but very important a detail to me).

i fought with the idea of bringing back in the DDR game as its screen got smashed in season 2... (even though you'd think it'd be easily replacable). maybe the boys will get a new one in the near future, if at all. OH, and for access points, you got the stairs for one... but you can also walk through a pair of subway cars from the "bedroom" side!! (leo, for example, has access to two separate subway cars from his own, meaning he can walk in from either side of the arcade. other family members tend to walk through unoccupied cars instead of walking through leo's (unless they wanted to be annoying and/or say smth as they walked through)).

ALL IN ALL not too many details after all tbh but i'm more of a show-don't-tell kinda person anyway... so, hopefully the illustrations carry more details than my explaining does :)

[57sfinest]

calling harry a “can opener” was SUCH a good play for so many reasons i think about it every day.

in the context of his work, it makes him a tool. as many people have pointed out, including martin luiga, part of the hdb tragedy is that he simply cannot leave the force, and his superiors know that and are using it to their advantage. no matter what happens, even if harry hated every nanosecond of every bit of the work and wanted to leave, he can’t and won’t leave. they can leverage anything they want against him and then reel him back in with a facade of kindness when they “allow” him to keep his job, as long as he does what they want him to. the 41st knows he has this inexplicable talent with people and they use him for it. he’s a cop: that talent can be used in so many awful ways, to push so many different agendas. and they won’t even be his own. a can opener has no particular desire to open a can, aside from maybe the satisfaction of fulfilling a purpose. a can opener has no agency, it’s just a tool for someone else to use to get what they want. and he’s learned to be okay with being used as long as it means he gets to stay. his complacency with this system makes him guilty even if he’s also being harmed by it.

but in the context of his personal life you kind of... flip it. the people around him are going to be opened up whether they want to be or not, and it’s terrible for his relationships. it’s shown that the questions, the prying- the can-opening- it’s become inextricable from who he is as a person. it’s like he doesn’t know how else to communicate, except it’s hardly communication when you’re just ripping people open. he’s invasive as all hell, although whether he means to be is debatable. he’s the kind of person that wants to take things apart to see what makes them tick. he dissects people, but really that’s too delicate of a word for what he does; if he doesn’t get what he wants right up front, he’ll abandon all subtlety and go for brute force. if he can’t get your screws loose he’ll just smash you on the ground and pick through your pieces until he’s satisfied, and if what he did to you isn’t fixable? oh well, there are other cans to open. 

and he’ll use it for personal gain: we already know he is (was?) manipulative. once he knows how you operate, he knows how to make you keep him. he can yell or he can cry; he can threaten you or he can threaten himself; he can be completely suffocating or he can withdraw completely; he can be an incorrigible liar or brutally honest; he can present himself as a threat or a joke or a talent. he’s a chimera- that’s why he’s got this inexplicable magnetism, even when people know they shouldn’t like or trust him. fidelity of character means nothing to him. he’ll be whatever he needs to be as long as it gets him what he wants. the can-opening is just his way in.

[cryptid-crow13]

underground fighter

I have this idea and I can't get it out of my head so I am throwing it to the dpxdc tumblr wild.

Danny took a deep breath as he wrapped his left hand. He wrinkled his nose at the blood and grime he smelled over the cigarette smoke and alcohol. He ignored how his hand shook as he secured the end around his wrist. He heard the noise outside the room die down a bit and hopped up from the bench.

Danny ran himself through a few warmups before he heard the noise outside pick back up with an announcement.

"Tonight we have everyone's favorite, Wraith!"

People yelled out their bets and cheered when Danny stepped out into the cage. He blew out a slow breath and watched as the people in the seats above shivered. He kept a carefully blank expression even under the gaiter mask.

When Wraith stepped into his end of the cage he rolled his shoulders back and stared down his first opponent for the night.

[marlynnofmany]

Anyone else just look around the room for story ideas, applying a bit of speculative fiction possibilities, and instantly find something?

The first object my eyes fell upon was the saltshaker that has a googly eye carefully placed on it. Adhesive googly eyes being magic has VAST potential as a story idea.

Also it's on the table next to a bunch of purple arrows, in front of the tree trunk we just painted on the wall.

I'm not sure where this story is going exactly, but I'm excited to find out.

[justarandomidiot1]

i saw other steven universe aus for mob psycho and felt inspired to make my own

[multiversal-pudding]

Murder Drones Headcanon:

The reason why Disassembly Drones are silent hunters/ don’t make monster-y noises when they hunt isn’t because they can’t, but because they were intentionally programmed not to/restricted from that behavior by the human handlers/ tech support workers for the sake of “palatability”/“Professionalism”, to the point where Eldritch J literally had to resort to saying the word Snarl.

Solver Drones like Uzi aren’t limited by this.

+ Some bonus concepts:

Uzi accidentally making a monstrous growl/strange scream-screech-bellow noise while not in full Solver-mode for the first time and just. ‘Was That?? ME??’

The DDs slowly coming loose of these restrictions over time and N or V purring unexpectedly/ getting so emotional these restrictions glitch and they manage to roar/growl/purr out of sheer rage/sadness/joy

Uzi not realizing she can purr leading to cute moments

Uzi subconsciously making bat like chirps/insect like trills when curious/examining an interesting scavenged part

N, V, and Uzi all being intimidating, only for Uzi to roar and accidentally startle the other two (lol)

Uzi/V/N feeling discomforted by the implication that, at least in some way, Uzi’s more monstrous/dangerous than (what they thought was) the Apex Predator, the Murder Drones, and this being tied to that idea

Different Solver Drones having different ways they mutate/ different traits, different sounds, just being generally different (Doll having her own strange, haunting noises?)

In general, there’s a ton of potential in like the idea of “Weird mix of biological and mechanical elements” for like. Descriptive elements and stuff- Sirens mixed with screeches, Chainsaw/Motor like growls, Metal Screeching/Heavy Machinery noises, electronic corruption sounds mixed with elk screams/crocodile bellowing/roaring-

[twilight-deviant]

Telling content creators it's wrong to explore artistic freedom and be independently funded by fans, and they should instead continue taking advertisement revenue from google* is

NOT

the anti-capitalism stance actually.

*(Yes, google owns youtube.)

[starpirateee]

WAITWAITWAITWAIT YKNOW HOW SPANKOFFSKI IS A POLISH NAME

PETE OR TED OR MAYBE BOTH SPEAKING POLISH AND CONFUSING THE PEOPLE AROUND THEM

JUST LIKE, THEY HAVE A PRIVATE CONVERSATION OVER THE PHONE THEY DONT WANT OTHERS TO HEAR SO SPEAK IN POLISH TO EACH OTHER AND WHEN TEHY HANG UP EVERYONE AROUND THEM IS LIKE WHAT THE FUCK??????

god im insane about themmmmmm

Anon this is really funny in concept, the size of your mind is insane && I just hope I can do it vague justice

The major problem for Ted on most days was that his phone tended to ring in the most inconvenient of places, at the most inconvenient of times. another major problem was that he often got so engrossed in… Whatever he was doing in the office that he forgot that he and Pete ran on completely different schedules, because his brother was still three months from graduating high school.

He'd been bunking off for the past half hour, and had been talking to Charlotte in the break room, trying to work out when a good time to see her again would be. Everyone who knew them tended to avoid the fact that she was blatantly using him as a fallback option because her husband couldn't— or wouldn't— give her what she wanted. People like Paul and Bill tended to ignore it, only because Sam was doing the same thing across town, with one of the Beanies' baristas, and one of his coworkers… Never at the same time, mind, but Zoey Chambers seemed rather unapologetic about it, so Paul and Bill had managed to work it out as fact.

Still, it was weird to see Charlotte with Ted. Because, at the right angle, it almost looked like Ted genuinely cared about her, and wanted to keep doing what they did to get her away from the thought of her husband for a while. That, of course, had seemed like enough total bullshit that nobody bought it, but they left the two of them to their well needed privacy when it came down to it. Only two people knew they were spot on with near enough everything they speculated about.

Ted leaned against the water cooler, sporting a little more confidence than would surely be allowed in a situation like this. Charlotte wasn't having a terrible day, and that meant it was that little bit easier to talk to her. Less Sam to think about… How did that bastard end up with a woman like her? And why was it that her situation was that bad that he was an upgrade for her?

He was going to think about an answer to that question, but his phone started ringing in his back pocket, vibrating way too dramatically against the cooler.

"Jesus christ-" He stood up a little straighter, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Sorry, Charlotte. One sec, I swear- hello?"

"Hey, Ted."

That was a voice he'd recognise from anywhere. Pete, once again working off his own time and perhaps completely overlooking the fact that Ted still had an hour at work.

For the sake of clarity, Pete checked his watch and drew the realisation that the holidays were over last week, and Ted was back on office hours. His brow creased, hoping he wasn't interrupting anything then realising there wasn't really anything to interrupt in his brother's work life. "This a bad time?"

"Oh, hey, Pete. No, you're good, I wasn't doing anything anyway…" Ted went straight back to lounging, aware that Charlotte was now trying not to eavesdrop but didn't really have anything better to do. "What's up?"

Pete chuckled. "C'mon, when are you ever doing anything? You don't do shit! Especially not at work!"

"Hey! I do shit! I get paid to do shit, don't I?"

"… Do you even know what department you work in?"

It was a genuine question, and would've accounted for Ted's genuine laziness and reluctance to do any of the actual work he was sent… If Ted hadn't prepared for this exact eventuality several months ago. He'd made sure to pay enough attention in a Monday meeting to at least account for what depeatment he worked in, and what that department pretty much required him to do. He didn't have to work constantly anyway, and that was the best part. His main job was just… fixing the problems everyone else had, when they had them.

"Sure I do. Tech support!" He imagined the defeated expression that flashed across his brother's face, and laughed to himself. There were too many people around him to make the point he was going to make next without getting mobbed, so he leaned in a little closer to the phone, a smirk playing on his lips, and muttered, "Czuję się, jakbym był jedynym idiotą, który faktycznie się zakwalifikował… (I feel like I'm the only idiot who's actually qualified…)"

That prompted an unexpected laugh out of Pete, who was clearly around other people too, because he tried to cover it up. "To wiele mówi (that says a lot.)" He returned once he'd stopped laughing. The two of them had stopped questioning the other's occasional slip into their own version of mostly fluent Polish. They used it to their advantage, to have private conversations in public, or sometimes in reverse when they were around the Polish side of their family. More things could be said if there was the added bonus of nobody overhearing, and that way of thinking had helped Pete out on a few occasions.

Ted cracked a smile. "Ty jesteś gówniarz- (you're a little shit)" He managed to bring himself back into the conversation they were supposed to be having, before he and Pete managed to lose it like they always did, lost in the jesting and the back and forth that just seemed to get better with every phonecall they had. "You didn't call to insult my supposed lack of work, did you? What's up?"

"Can I drop by the office and pick up your keys? I must've left mine on my desk this morning… Took me till third period to realise they weren't in my pocket…" Pete turned from the phone to mutter something- a goodbye, perhaps- towards someone else, and Ted found it vaguely amusing that Pete had retaliated to his complaint when he was with friends.

"You left after me this morning…"

"The front door locks itself, don't worry about it."

Ted faltered, and then nodded. He'd figured that by accident once when he accidentally locked himself out after forgetting his own keys, and he had to wait in the foyer for half an hour like an absolute fool for Pete to show up after his study session. "Fine. You know where the back entrance is, don't you? My car's parked out there, you should recognise it."

"That hunk of shit? I'd recognise it anywhere,"

"Do not slander my car!"

"C'mon, Ted, you've had it like, twenty years! And it hasn't gotten any better in all that time…"

He was going to ignore for now the seemingly increasing pile of problems that it seemed to have every year. Wings that needed replacing because they'd rusted so hard last year, numerous little engine faults… And the suspension was probably shot after all these years… It was a hunk of shit, sure, but it was _his_hunk of shit. "You just wait till you get your own hunk of shit, we'll see who's laughing then!"

"I'm- I'm getting close, I can see your car. Thanks for this, by the way…"

"Yeah yeah, don't mention it, Pete. You better not lose 'em on your way home, I know what you're like…"

"Dupek. (Asshole)"

"Tak, też Cię kocham… (Yeah, I love you too)" Ted chuckled before Pete hung up on him with a scoff. He rolled back his shoulders and stood up from the water cooler. Charlotte tilted her head, and it dawned on him that she'd probably heard all of that. He shrugged. "My brother. Useless bastard left his keys in the apartment… Hold on just a moment." He flashed her a quick smile and sauntered out of the break room towards the lift at the back of the office. Charlotte didn't have the time nor the space to question the constant little jumps in language that may well have happened on both ends, because Ted was gone before she had the chance to think about it at all.

[ponydoodles]

requests are now OPEN!!

[ame-exe]

Btw why have I not seen people talk about this

[Video ID: scene from the ace attorney anime. There is a brief pan of a road that is between snowy mountains, showing a police car driving on it. Subtitles are in italic and say “Objection! Objection!”. It then cuts to the inside of the car, where Phoenix Wright and Dick Gumshoe are sitting next to each other at the back of the car. Gumshoe fumbles for his phone to see what the ringtone was about, which stops when he finds his phone and checks the message. The subtitles also disappear. End ID]

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

[hanzajesthanza]

i'm just saying that somewhere out there, there is a bizarro regis that is a human guy that sits in caves in complete darkness alongside five vampires and communicates through telepathy with them. whose eyes have grown to the size of drachmas and twists his head and scampers in jarring ways. and he also drinks human blood. in human terms, this guy would be so fucked up.

we would be like, what the fuck. this guy is no longer human - he has ceased to be human, he has become a vampire. (though he would still be undeniably human, able to do human things if he hasn't forgotten them, and also unable to do many vampire things)

so i'm saying this to illustrate a point, to try and illustrate regis in vampire terms. to live in a house (or palace) in daylight with five humans and speak with spoken word. to walk on the ground and have facial expressions and nod your head and sew with your hands. and to not drink blood, of course. so what would other vampires think of him. yeah. that's right

[nyaskitten]

you ever think about how Ghoultar must have died from SEVERE brain trauma, seeing as on the back of his head, he has a pretty big crack and a large metal plate likely holding the skull together or something?