#he's there for two seconds

[thelampisaflashlight]

Cryptid Biology Season 2: Something Special

[Previous entry in this series: Here. The ghouls participate in a time honored tradition in celebration of the summer solstice... or Dew has an encounter with Special in the woods.] Below the cut.

Dew can feel his heart beating in his chest as he runs through the darkness, ducking and weaving to avoid branches and thorn bushes that appear just inches away from him before disappearing into the black surrounding him.

He curses, feeling his muscles scream at him to slow down, to stop, but if he does, he'll get caught.

Breathing heavily, Dew stumbles over a root, but manages to keep his footing... only to trip and fall over the next one, landing upon the ground with a heavy thud that would hurt a whole heck of a lot more if not for the bed of decaying leaves on the forest floor.

He groans and attempts to scramble to his feet, but when a boot against his back keeps him from rising right away, he relents, flopping back down with an angry huff.

"First you failed to outrun me during the Imbolc hunt, then you ran into me at the one for Ostara, and don't get me started on that pathetic attempt to hide from me during Beltane... and now here we are again." the ghoul above him chuckles, eyes glowing red, face just barely visible with Dew's lackluster night vision, "I think you're getting in my way on purpose, Tadpole."

"Stop calling me that, Special, you prick..." Dew grits out, "Maybe you're the one chasing after me, huh?"

Special hums and grinds his foot down.

"Mn, no, I don't think so." he says, crouching down, "I'm not much of a hunter, you see, I've always been more of a scavenger; I take what the others leave behind, so normally I'd wait and see who's left..."

He moves to press his knee into Dew's back, applying more pressure as he leans forward to whisper into his ear, "You're too much work, so for me to catch you, either nobody wanted you this time, or you're deliberately making it easy for me, because after our first encounter, you've been aching for more..."

Special brushes the hair from his neck and presses a kiss there, "...Haven't you?"

"Shut-" Dew starts to shout, but can't as Special's jaws lock onto his nape, it stings, both from the act itself, and from the toxin dribbling into his wounds from the ghoul's mouth, "Uh-huunh..."

"There's a good boy." Special coos, licking Dew's blood from his lips, swiping his tongue over his teeth for good measure, "Feels better than when a quint fucks your mind, doesn't it? I know it does... It's such an instant relief."

His hand comes down the massage the wound, grinning as the skin heals over from his touch, while also aiding in spreading the venom faster.

"There we go..." he says, finally lifting himself from Dew's body and flipping him over onto his back, "Well, look at you~"

Dew's whole body feels flush, and his breathing has yet to settle from his mad dash through the forest, so he has to look like a sweaty mess, but Special doesn't seem to agree, reaching down to cup his cheeks with his hands, shaking his head teasingly back and forth.

"Aren't you just the sweetest thing?" he grins, then pats his face lightly, "Hm, guess we should get this show on the road then, huh?"

Dew mumbles something and raises his arms slowly, wiggling his fingers, and Special blinks at him for a moment before snorting, "Oh, poor baby, can't take your shirt off yourself? You need me to do it for you?"

"Feeeel allll... wiggly..." Dew supplies unhelpfully, giggling as Special hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head in one fluid movement, "Umph!"

"The venom's making you a little silly, isn't it?" Special squishes Dew's face again as he wads up his shirt and tucks it under his head, "That's good, you always seem so uptight..."

He spreads his fingers over his chest, thumbs poised beneath his nipples, "You know..."

"Most people come to these hunts so they can do nasty, freaky things in the woods without consequence." he says, teasing the small bud, "But you, and pardon the joke, are something special, huh?"

"You just wanna be loved.... adored, taken care of..."

Dew mewls as Special descends to nibble at his neck again, fingers rolling his nipples around in soft, slow motions.

"Are they not treating you right, sweet thing? Hm?" Special asks, "Should I talk to that water ghoul you like so much and tell him he doesn't need to be rough?"

"I like... I like rough..." Dew replies meekly, eyes shutting, "S'okay..."

Special makes a disappointed little noise and pulls back.

"You know I don't like liars, Dewdrop." he chastises, "But if that's what you want-"

Dew's eyes widen as Special's hand begins to wrap around his neck.

"Do you want this?" he asks, applying pressure to his throat, "Or do you want me to treat you like you really want?"

Dew groans and kicks his legs slightly, squirming under his grasp.

"Want-"

"Yes?"

"...Don't wanna say it..."

Special pouts.

"But I want to hear it, c'mon, baby, when you're with me, what's your name, huh? How do I treat you?"

"Pri..."

"Yes~?"

"You're a prick." Dew cackles, and Special sits back, rolling his eyes.

"You may be easy to catch, but you're hard to break, I'll give you that." He sighs, "But I'll be damned again if I don't love picking you apart."

"Hehe~"

The multi-ghoul slides down and begins undoing Dew's pants, but the zipper refuses to open and he gives a frustrated noise.

"Just pull 'em off..." Dew says, struggling to move his legs around from under Special's body.

"I have a better idea-" The ghoul tugs Dew's pants down to about mid thigh and leaves them like that, the dense, folded over fabric restricting his movements, "-that's much better."

Dew wriggles, trying to slide them down further, but he can't get the leverage and gives a defeated hiss.

"I could just..." Special pushes his legs back towards his chest, "Yeah, I can work with this."

"H-Hey now-"

Special cranes his neck at him, "What? Suddenly you're embarr-Oh. Oh-ho-ho-ho~"

Dew's ears have flicked back, the tips almost as red as his face.

"What do you think? Should I take you like this, or perhaps I should lay you on your side? What is my princess thinking now, hm~?"

"Just-"

A stick snaps and Dew goes stone stiff, whereas Special lowers himself over his body, territorial, a growl emanating from his throat, wholly unexpected from such a usually jovial, prankster type like him.

What or whoever was approaching seems to get the hint and approaches no further, but the ghoul above him remains locked in his protective stance, glaring out into the darkness.

After a minute passes, Dew can finally hear the sound of retreating footsteps, and not even a second later, he feels something prodding at his entrance, causing him to tense and squeak.

"How annoying..." Special mutters, hastily working Dew open, not giving him any time to adjust, forcing a series of involuntary chatters and chirps to escape his mouth, "We'll have to rush things a bit now, I'm sorry."

"Who was-" Dew tries to lift himself up to look around, but Special pushes him back down, "Hey-"

Special clicks his tongue.

"Humans."

Dew furrows his brow.

"The siblings-"

"Not them." Special hisses, then tilts his head back, letting out an annoyed groan, "Dammit..."

"Then who? The gardener-"

"Outsiders."

Dew forces himself up onto his elbows, wobbling as Special helps him tug his pants back up.

"Careful now, don't want you falling down again..." Special chides, wrapping his arm around his waist as they stand, "...Fucking, of course, those bastards would sneak around on a night like this... I bet they're running back to the other side of the lake now."

"We should go after them-" Dew starts, but the second he tries to pull away from Special, his head starts swimming, "-Fuck, Phil, how much venom did you give me??"

"I wasn't expecting our little rendezvous to be interrupted by a pack of mortal morons, so I gave you a little more than last time..." he pinches his brow, "We'll have to inform the other-"

A loud cracking sound startles them both, making Dew stumble, but he is quickly captured by Special, who narrows his eyes in the direction of the noise.

"Do you think that was the trespassers or..."

A second, louder crack echoes through the woods followed by a chorus of human screams.

Dew cringes and Special begins to make a clicking sound, a common distress noise among ghouls, neither of them is sure what's going on at this point, and the lack of any other sound once a third crack sounds sounds has them both on edge, until...

"You better run, you fuckin' little shits! I have more where that came from!"

"...Bea, I think they got the point, put the bb gun down-"

...Ah.

Mountain heaves a heavy sigh, taking the gun from the gardener, who looks positively miffed, even in the lowlight cast by the lantern in the earth ghouls other hand.

"Give that back-" the hotheaded woman starts, but instead of giving her back the gun, Mountain scoops her up and jostles her around a bit before tossing her over his shoulder and lumbering back off into the forest, "YOU BITCH!"

Special and Dew watch the retreating pair in silence, looking at each other after the two are gone from sight again.

"...I'm getting too old for this..." They both sigh in unison.

"Still though, how did they get passed the barricades?" Dew wonders aloud and Special shrugs.

"They could have swam to this shore for all we know." he remarks, "It's happened before, so I expect the next budget meeting will involve putting something in place to prevent this from happening again..."

"We can't just magic some shit in place?" Dew questions, "Like with the woods along the main road?"

"People getting turned around in the woods is one thing, because they usually make their way back out, if we turn them around in the water, they could drown..." Special reasons, adjusting his grip on Dew, "...Not that they wouldn't deserve it with all the signs we have posted about these kinds of things. They've probably learned their lesson for now."

Dew hums.

"...So."

"So?"

"...Now that they're gone-"

"Yes?"

"...You know what I'm thinking?"

Special looks him up and down.

"...That we should track them down and eat their bones?"

Dew pinches the bridge of his nose.

"No, I-"

"-want to get railed within an inch of your life to make up for that frankly unnecessary distraction?"

"...You really are a prick."

"And you happen to like them very much, so it's a win-win situation for us all, isn't it?"

[blaithnne]

Live Mel reaction

[symphonyofsilence]

Let the poor man rest.

[tyrannosaurus-trainwreck]

Actually, I know damn well Darcy never sat down and thought about marrying Lizzie. If he had, it would have been a week before he was rounding up Bingley, sitting him down, and looking him in the eye like he was about to propose high treason and going, "Jane. You still down bad for her?"

Coin toss whether Bingley would actually get to answer before Darcy turned around and flipped over a whiteboard like

and launched right into the most detailed migration pattern known to Regency England to keep the extraneous Bennets as contained as humanly possible by rotating them between various Bingley/Darcy estates. Like, we're talking about trading them off for minor holidays a decade out kind of detailed.

"If you and Jane take them for Lady Day ten years hence, Elizabeth and I will take them for Michaelmas. We'll all be together for Christmas and Midsummer, so we'll divide the responsibility individually on those days."

This would be followed by thirteen different spreadsheets projecting joint expenditures so Bingley knows what sort of financial commitment he'll be shouldering and how to minimize it, what proportion Darcy will take care of, what the estate plans are in case Darcy predeceases anybody, when they should probably roll out various stages to keep it from affecting their respective sisters' ability to maximize their own husband-hunting--whole nine yards.

Darcy does not know that he'll probably be murdered when the Bingley sisters find out why he asked for their social calendars. He'd be marginally fine with that at this point, because the fucking Napoleonic War campaigns were not as meticulously planned as his roadmap to getting the other three Bennets satisfactorily married, and Darcy feels about as able as if he'd spent the last year on Elba.

It takes Bingley a few minutes to realize why this is happening, then he's like

"You proposed to Elizabeth?! Congratulations!"

Darcy... knew there was something he was forgetting.

That man would have kicked the Collins's door open with four binders tucked under each arm, dumped them in a pile in front of Elizabeth, and loudly announced that if they get married tomorrow he can have her entire family except for Jane extraordinary renditioned to the Scottish moors by Sunday and then been like

"Why are you yelling at me?! I promise you, it will work! You'll never see anyone in your family except for Jane again, I swear it!" when she starts yelling at him.

[egophiliac]

once again, don't think I'm not still obsessing over 7-12

(eventually I will get back to being less scribbly, whoops)

[zorangezest]

thanks for listening

[meatgrinder-0]

me at the interdimensional ramen bar of past regret

[chloesimaginationthings]

Cassidy loves to scare the FNAF night guards..

[brainrotcharacters]

wade's undiagnosed ADHD (giggling everytime Logan stabs him) is only ever matched by Logan's undiagnosed autism (stabbing Wade with his claws when he's overstimulated)

[noodles-and-tea]

Who’s your favorite gravity falls character?

THIS GUY

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Okay 3 things

1. I was thinking about an aroace Sonic who says things that can be taken as wildly flirty/romantic but he just means them genuinely. “You have beautiful eyes, I keep getting distracted while looking at them,” not cause he’s interested romantically in them but because eyes can be really cool and pretty man I dunno what to tell you he likes looking at cool things and he thinks his friends are neat. “You’re the most beautiful person here,” because he really thinks that, he loves his friends

2. Sonic randomly dropping heartfelt genuine comments on his friends out of the blue completely blindsiding them and then moves on like nothing happened while they’re left going ?????? Bonus points if he does something immensely stupid or jerkish just before or immediately afterwards and they can’t tell if he was serious or not with the compliment (yes he was)

3. Sonic usually being so allergic to truly vulnerable moments that when he expresses something heartfelt randomly Tails thinks he’s been stabbed or something and does not believe him when he reassures him that he’s fine he’s fine he’s not dying yeesh

[goosegooserevolution]

List of words banned on The Ark, starting with number one: Alarm. I really missed making silly stuff like this. I have more comic ideas lined up for autobot and decepticon shenanigans, but it'll be slow going because i foolishly dedicated so much time to coloring and backgrounds so now i must continue that trend for future comics. also this is the first full background ive ever made and im super proud of it!! it still doesnt look quite the way i want it to but im just glad i finished it <3

[technically-human]

Payneland² 

[pixiishi]

the dorm room beds aren’t made to fit two, but they make it work 🧡🔑

ID in ALT text

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I 2.1k I different first meeting I modern au I one sided enemies to lovers I rated T

“I mean, if looking like a dyke is the goal, you're nailing it,” Steve tells Robin as she holds the phone back to showcase her date outfit. “Change the belt, I think-”

He hears a throat clear behind him and spins around to find Eddie the bar manager standing behind him, a blank face and closed off body language.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Rob, I have to go. I'll text you after work.” He hangs up on her and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. “Sorry about that. Hi, you must be Eddie.” He holds out his hand to shake but Eddie just looks at it. He lowers it, the sting of rejection biting low in his stomach. “Um. Harvey said you just got back from a tour? That's cool.”

“Mmhmm.” He sniffs. “You're on garnish duty,” he says, cold and succinct, before turning away.

It's only Steve's third day behind the bar but he'd been slinging drinks with Rachel the night before. Barback duties are beneath him, he's got six years bartending experience. He doesn't want to complain though, not to Eddie who hated him on sight, and not during his first week.

They stay out of each other's way for the first half of the night, Steve relegated to the back, slicing limes and making the pre-mixes.

He's not used to being hated so thoroughly like this. Eddie hasn't uttered a word directly to Steve since sending him to the back, but he catches Eddie's eye a few times and it's like ice water down his back. The people-pleasing little boy in him wants to cry but he's a grown fucking man, he's not going to let this bother him. Just because he was looking forward to meeting Eddie, wanted to make a friend here, wanted to get to know the guy who managed the bar when he wasn't shredding across the country. Maybe if the owner hadn't talked Eddie up like he was the next Chris Martin…or whoever the metal equivalent of that would be. And, yeah, he'd seen the photos of Eddie, the Polaroids behind the bar of him with staff and guests, and thought he was stupid hot, with his tangled curls and the dimples, and maybe he'd had some inappropriate thoughts about his in absentia boss, and maybe he'd fantasized about flirting at the end of the night, and maybe-

Anyway, it's all good. Eddie doesn't owe him kindness or friendship or a single dimpled smile. Sometimes people just don't get along and that's okay.

“Your Fernet,” he mumbles as he sets the bottle at Eddie's elbow, head down like a dog that's used to booted feet. He feels like an idiot but Eddie's frosty demeanor feels like it's balanced on a knife's edge, like he could tip over into a blazing explosion if Steve says or does the wrong thing.

Eddie doesn't thank him, just snatches the bottle and walks away.

“You're welcome,” he snarks under his breath after Eddie's well away.

“Can I get a rum and coke?” A guy asks over the counter.

Steve hesitates. He's not welcome at the bar, Eddie has made that abundantly clear, but he wasn't hired as a barback, he's a bartender, so he smiles at the guy and starts making the drink. Eddie is busy at the other end of the bar anyway.

“You're new,” the guy says, making conversation as Steve works.

“Yeah, it's my first week.”

“You liking it so far?”

Steve glances down the bar, watching Eddie shake a cocktail like he's fucking Tom Cruise or something. His face lights up at something the woman he's talking to says and the crack of his laugh travels the length of the bar, punching Steve right in the stomach. His dimples are really something to see in motion.

“Jesus Christ, I wanna wrap you in tinsel.”

Steve whips his head back around. “Huh?”

The guy chuckles. “Because you're pining so hard. Get it? Pine-ing.”

Well shit. He deflates. “That obvious, huh?”

The guy accepts his drink with a shrug. “Maybe not to everyone but to a…certain demographic…” He gives Steve a little limp wristed wave, which makes Steve crack a laugh.

“I'm Steve, by the way,” he holds out his hand, which the guy takes easily, unlike some people.

“Cary, like Cary Grant.”

“Or Cary Elwes.”

“Exactly.” He leans a ways over the bar and mumbles, “Don't look but your boy is watching us.”

Steve forces his body to not stiffen up. “Does he look mad?”

“No. Confused if anything. Pretend like I just said the funniest thing you've ever heard.”

Steve, always down for shenanigans, tips his head back and fakes the loudest howl he can without being too over the top.

“Oh, you're good. He's got his eye on you, doll. Make the most of it.”

Steve leans into the shared space, eyes half-lidded. “I hope he's seething with jealousy. He could've had me six ways from Sunday but instead he decided to hate my guts at first sight.”

“What an absolute dumbass.” Cary reaches up and taps Steve's collarbone. “If I wasn't already taken, and you weren't pining like a Christmas tree, we could've ridden into the sunset together.”

“If only,” Steve agrees with a soft laugh.

“We're out of Matcha.”

Steve jumps out of his skin. Eddie is standing three inches from Steve's side, eyes burning into him like he just caught Steve keying his car.

“Make your own Matcha,” Cary snarks, “Steve and I are getting to know one another.”

Without breaking eye contact with Steve, he growls, “I think Tony, your fiance, would prefer it if Steve made the Matcha.”

Chills run down Steve's back and arms but he maintains composure. “On it, boss.”

He slips out from under Eddie's gaze, finger waving to Cary on his way back to the kitchen. He can hear Eddie chastising but he chooses to ignore him in favor of hyperventilating in the walk-in.

“What the fuck.”

Eyes like black flames, licking up the side of Steve's neck. Collarbones raising and lowering in the light of the bar as his chest moved with each breath. Hands clenched at his sides, white knuckled.

That wasn't cold at all.

He moves on autopilot for the rest of his shift. Eddie doesn't talk to him again but Steve can feel his eyes on the back of his neck, raising the hairs and keeping him from forgetting Eddie’s existence.

Towards the end of his shift, just before midnight, he hears Robin calling his name from the bar. He comes out of the kitchen, happy to see her waving him over, excited to introduce her date. He probably shouldn't encourage this behavior, it's his first week after all, but the restaurant is closing and the bar is empty.

“Hey, you must be Chrissy,” he greets the petite woman at Robin's side, takes her tiny hand in his and gives it a firm shake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Same! I couldn't believe it when Robin said you'd just started here. Like, it's a crazy coincidence.”

He cocks his head but before he can ask, Eddie comes bounding over from the other side of the bar and lifts Chrissy up off her stool, swinging her in a circle while she shrieks with laughter.

“Apparently Eddie is her best friend,” Rob fills him in, sort of unnecessary at this point. Steve wouldn't have been able to imagine Eddie looking so happy, he'd been so sour faced all night. Even when he'd been laughing with the customer earlier, it was only a fraction of this.

“Tell me everything,” Chrissy is saying after he puts her down. “Last I heard you loved Cleveland and hated Boston, which I maintain is insane.”

“And I maintain you didn't have to navigate the Boston roadways with Boston drivers,” Eddie argues, still grinning. “But it was great. Exhausting but…yeah, fucking awesome.”

“I'm so proud of you, Eds. You deserve it.”

He actually fucking blushes, which is devastating to Steve's crush. Just devastating.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “Oh, sorry, you must be Robin. Thanks for bringing Chris to see me.” He shakes her hand, not hating her on sight, Steve notes.

“No problem, but I didn't, she brought me here to see the Dingus.” At Eddie's confused look she throws a thumb back at Steve, who waves.

“Yeah, hi. Your best friend is dating my best friend. Sorry. Guess that means you're stuck with me.”

His frown doesn't abate with this explanation.

“Because they're lesbians. She's gonna have me helping her move into Chrissy’s place in, like, a week.”

“Shut up!” Robin reaches across the bar to slap the shit out of his arm and then tosses a lemon wedge at him when he jumps back out of swinging range. Chrissy giggles at them.

“Knock it off, I worked hard on those.” He picks the wedge up off the floor and tosses it into the trash. Three points.

When he looks back up, Eddie is staring at him, wide eyed.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Steve questions.

“Ohhh.” He presses his wrists into his eye sockets.

Steve looks at Robin and Chrissy in confusion but they're both as lost as him.

“I'm an asshole.” He hasn't removed his hands yet.

“Yes,” Chrissy agrees immediately, “what did you do, Eddie?”

He finally looks up at Steve, who takes a step back, involuntarily. They stare at one another for thirty seconds. Or two days. He's not sure.

“Eddie?” Chrissy prompts again.

“I-” He turns around and walks away.

Chrissy rushes after him and yanks him back. They get into a tug match, which Chrissy wins, somehow.

“I love her,” Robin mumbles.

“I fucking said. Less than a week.”

She slides a look his way, one that reads ‘Like you're any better.’ He shouldn't have told her about his plan to seduce his boss, who he hadn't even met yet.

“Whatever you did, you apologize right now,” Chrissy commands to a pouting Eddie.

Steve stands there, eyebrows up, as Eddie grumbles an apology that would do an eleven year old Dustin proud.

“What is happening right now?” He wonders aloud.

Eddie folds his arms across his chest, his black button down stretching across his shoulders beautifully. “I heard your conversation with Robin earlier. You said something about her looking like a dyke and…I made an assumption on the kind of person you were. And I was an asshole to you because of it. I'm sorry.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers in understanding. A weight lifts off his chest. “Fuck. That's hilarious.” He can't stop the giggles from erupting.

“Okay, in my defense, most straight guys don’t get a pass.”

Steve and Robin look at each other and crack up. He wants to ask what Eddie thinks was going on with Cary if he assumed Steve was straight but Robin shrieks, “You think I would hang out with a straight man!”

“Hey! You did hang out with me when I thought I was straight!”

She shakes her head like a smug asshole. “Debatable. You've always been a lil fruity. Tommy H? Whatever that was with Billy? C'mon.”

Steve takes a turn at slapping her. When he looks back up, he finds Eddie looking at him like a kid who just found coal in his stocking, dark eyes wet and bottom lip desperately trying not to pout.

“Holy shit, stop making that face,” Steve begs.

“I can't.”

Chrissy leans up on her knees, wobbling precariously on the stool, to physically push his lip back where it belongs. He smacks her hand away and then puts his own back up to his eyes, pushing hard.

“This is divine punishment. The universe sensed I was too happy so they sent you to test me. Big fat F, just like always,” he mumbles, nonsensically.

Steve looks to Chrissy to translate.

She puts a finger to her chin, looks between the two of them, and then concludes, “He thinks you're hot and that he ruined his chances by being a prick.”

“Chrissy!” Eddie's shriek puts Robin's to shame.

But he's not denying it.

Steve makes extremely pointed eye contact with Robin and says, “It's getting late. Eddie and I have to close the bar. You should see Chrissy home.”

She nods, slow and then quick, as the message lands.

“Yes! Yes, let's get going. Leave these guys to…close the bar.”

Smooth.

They giggle the entire way out the door but Steve ignores them. Eddie is staring again, dark eyes pinning him to the mirror behind the bar.

“I was going to ask earlier but I didn't think it was appropriate…”

Eddie swallows, throat bobbing. “Ask what?”

“What's the company policy on fraternization?”

As a former jock, Steve is thoroughly impressed by Eddie's form as he vaults the bar.

[superbat-lmao]

Jason travels to an alternate universe where Bruce only cares about being Batman. He took in each of his kids to serve the mission, not be his children.

Now, faced with alternate versions of his family, Jason has to grapple with the fact that his Bruce does care, that he is his father. Because the man in front of him now, trying to send him home, isn’t even close.