#anyway i love space and i love Dib so why not draw him on his night off from spying on Zim

[arcadeplayer-nickonz]

another sleepless night listening to alien gossip

[lyssak09]

Hello :D

I love your writings!!!!

And I love your dbd Yandere Leon x killer reader story :3 can you pls make a part two? I would love to know how it will continues :D

Thank you so much for your amazing work!!!!!!

Also have a good day :D

Of course! Your super sweet I'm so glad you like my writing. So I actually started working on a part 2 after seeing your comment. But your ask just really made me work more on it. So thank you for requesting! Also, I tried to make this as gender friendly as possible. If I messed up anywhere Im so sorry. I hope you guys enjoy it 💙

Yandere Leon with Killer! Reader pt 2

Leon is a clingy needy dude after he's yonked you from the killer's realm. So expect a lot of cuddling, no personal space, and following you everywhere you go in the apartment. 

He isn’t THAT weird, and lets you use the bathroom in peace.

You think anyway.

The best part about him following you like a puppy is the fact that you can basically make him do anything with a simple sentence. 

You could ask for water, and he will zoom over the fridge to get you some water.

Hungry?

Food has been cooked and brought to you.

You are treated like a god dang queen/king/royalty. 

As you should be.

He took you without your permission, and has been keeping you basically hostage. 

This is the least that he could do for you. 

Now, is his cooking very good?

Not really.

He is used to cooking food over a fire and, after joining The Entity’s realm, not eating at all.

If someone came to visit you guys (99.98% not gonna happen but it doesn't hurt to hope) like a friend of his, who didn’t hate him for kidnapping you, he would be giving them a death glare until they leave. Lucky for them that they're friends with Leon or else you'd have a giant mess to clean up and some laundry to do if ya catch my drift.

Btw, Leon 100% wants you to be his house spouse.

You are so missed by your friends. And are enraged and appalled that Leon has done this to you and is able to.

A lot of the killers don’t care tho, since they’ve seen much worse.

But the survivors do, they're also extra pissed he is the one who did kill them for a while as of late.

But hey, not everything was too bad. 

He let you have hobbies, as long as you were still inside of the apartment.

Like sewing.

If you were really interested in it, he would ask you to sew some of his old clothes with big holes.

“Y/N,” he would whisper, before sitting down next to you. You were just sewing up old holes in a pillow case that you found in the back of the closet, hoping to maybe get some use out of it. “Can you sew up this hole for me?"He showed you an old, black shirt with a bullet hole on the chest. “Laurie got me good with a pallet, it put a hole in my shirt, and I haven’t been able to find someone to repair it.”

If you try to stab him with the needle or scissors to skedaddle then your butt is gonna get whooped. 

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?" He yelled at you while you tried to break the front door down. "To get away from you! Duh!" You replied before body slamming the door. Leon let out a string of curses as he quickly wrapped his wound with scraps of fabric from the table. Leon soon grabbed you by your waist and dragged you to the bedroom. "Damn it! Let go of me!!" You screamed and held on to the door frame of the bedroom. Leon covered your mouth and pulled you into the room. "You have no reason to scream yet." He hissed in your ear and shut the door. 

If you like reading, he would ask force ou to read to him.

“But, if the werewolf liked the girl, then why wouldn’t he keep her? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” he asked. You rolled your eyes, "because the vampire one already had dibs on her. And healthy relationships don't involve kidnapping!" You told him and continued reading. "They obviously don't love her like I love you" Leon mumbled.

If you like drawing, he would ask to see what you’re drawing and he would try to make sure to get stuff for you to draw more. 

Like pencils and pens.

“What are you drawing?” He would ask, standing above you as you leaned over the table. “Is it a zombie?”

“No.”

“A cat?”

“No.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a tree.”

"Oh…"

Leon would frame and or put any drawings or doodles on the fridge.

If you have other hobbies, he would try his best to get you stuff to be able to do the things you loved. 

If he couldn’t, he would watch you and learn what you were doing.

If he had to go to a trial while you were at the house by yourself, he would lock the doors and take the key.

That way you wouldn’t be able to get out while he was gone.

While that did stop you from getting out, it did allow you some time alone without him hovering over you.

You could do whatever you pleased for the few hours that he was gone. 

Wanted to catch up on some extra sleep that got taken away from you?

Then nap time it is!

Want to draw something without him looking over your shoulder?

Freedom to draw whatever you want.

Though, you would have to hide them, since he does go through your stuff regularly.

Especially your drawing notebooks.

But remember, he had to find things that were hidden before he was forced into The Entity’s realm. 

So it won’t be easy to try and hide things from him.

Especially if he is suspicious of you hiding something.

“What did you do today?” He asked, walking through the door and plopping on the couch next to you. “Nothing much really, just took a nap and tidied up a bit.”. “Then why are the pencils out of place and why are their smudge marks on the table?” He asked, looking at you. He knew you were lying about what you were doing. “I know you were drawing.” He looked at you with an upset glare, “You don’t have to lie about what you do when I’m gone, you know I love your drawings.” He grabbed both of your hands in one of his, his other hand on your upper arm, “Where is it? I would love to see it.”. “I told you, I didn’t draw today. I tidied up, and that included moving some of the drawings I’ve already made.” You ripped your hands away from his. He started to get angry. "Why are you lying to me?" Leon yanked to towards him. "You didn't draw some boy or girl you think like like right? Because I'm the only one you can see in that way!" He was growling at this point. "Damn it Leon! I didn't draw today, and besides, is it really such a bad thing if I don't want you to see my drawings?" You were sweating now. You may or may not have drawn a hot character you had a crush on. But what's the harm in that? And aren't you allowed to have some privacy? "DON'T FUCKIN LIE TO ME!" he screamed and pinned you to the wall. You got the wind knocked outta you. "You know I don't like secrets." You stayed silent.  “I’m going to find it, even if I have to turn this whole place upside down!"

Yeah…he doesn't like secrets

Especially from you. Couples share everything right?

But if you dont draw and play games instead then maybe you get a game system or a game boy.

Or whatever you need/want for your hobbies

Anywaaays when he is forced to chill in the Killer camp he likes to ease drop on the killers and survivors who were you friends before you got yonked. (Yes you were friends with most of the survivors. You were a pretty friendly and chill killer) 

Leon started to hear rumors of him making a deal with the entity. Which wasn't wrong. But he still didn't you two to be discussed about with these asshats

He also started to hear your friends talk about plans to take you back and beat the utter crap outta our RPD boi.

But sadly for you, that's not happening. The Entity has gotten so much rage from Leon taking his anger out on his once friends. (He gets angry because someone isn't reciprocating his feelings fast enough. 

And Entity is also getting rage and despair from the survivors

To be perfectly honest, I don't think you're ever getting out. Leon's kills is more than making up for you no longer being able to do trials. So the entity is probably gonna leave you in Leon's hands. Forever

"You're mine you got that?" He hissed at you as you kicked and screamed at him to let you go. You had just tried to escape again and Leon caught you. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" Leon screamed and dug his nails into your jaw, breaking the skin and causing blood to trail down your neck. You mumbled out a yes. "Good, because you're never leaving me."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------- little fun bonus if wanted —-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe one day the Entity decided to let you guys out into the real world for a while since Leon has been so so useful as of late 

That also meant everyone could join.

Leon was pissed about this idea. He only wanted you and nobody else.

Besides, his ex-teammates aren’t probably the happiest with him

You know, killing them and all that.

Killers also didn’t really like him either.

They missed you being around the campfire with them.

But he made a deal, and The Entity was one to never let their side of the deal fail. 

Neither was Leon though.

He always kept his side of the deal.

And he wasn’t going to let anyone else come near you.

You already knew that though, and it wasn’t like you haven’t tried to bargain with The Entity either. 

But at least you could enjoy a day in the real world near your friends. 

So, yay

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, co-written with @darkmagyk [read on ao3]

“I’m in love,” Piper tells her when she shows up for another fitting. “Have you seen the new Beyonce video?”

“I heard the song.” Annabeth says, “isn’t that enough?”

“God, your whole play-acting thing is too far if you’re pretending to not like Beyonce.”

“I never said that.” Annabeth holds up her hands, “I like the song. But I did not see the video.”

“Well, when you see it, you’ll be in love too, but I will fight you.”

Piper could be scrappy in a fight. But Annabeth had been a champion fencer in high school.

“Kidding!” Piper says at her look. “There’s plenty of them to go around.” She didn’t even start to drape fabric over Annabeth, pushing her onto a muslin covered couch, and then pulling the video on the TV. She didn’t have one of those voice control devices. Because she was friends with Leo, and he was pretty firm on them being evil. “But I do call dibs on the main guy. The CALVES. The thighs. He’s unreal.”

“That good?” Piper went all ways, though as of late she gravitated towards women more often than not, so this was some high praise indeed. 

“Unreal, I am telling you. Like, the hand of God came down and sculpted him personally out of marble.”

Already in her recent watch history, the thumbnail of the video greets them, the song title splashed across the TV screen, weaving between  a very, very familiar set of legs. 

Like, intimately familiar. 

In something of detached horror, she watches the camera pan up, lovingly lingering on every inch of bare skin, following the muscles of his calves (which were unreal) to his knees then his thighs (which Annabeth had spent almost too much time between now), up his torso and his chest (which she knew made for an excellent pillow) to Percy’s face, set in a firm, hard stare. 

And that fucking blue lipstick again. 

She can’t even focus on Beyonce herself, too distracted by the way her hand traces the length of Percy’s outstretched thigh held in perfect arabesque as she gracefully drapes herself over him, crooning softly into his ear.

Annabeth should do that next time. That’s her spot, after all. 

Tearing her eyes away from the screen even as Piper watches, enraptured, she slips out her phone, sending a quick, furious text. 

annabeth: BEYONCE???????

A minute, then he responds. 

percy: oh lol i didn’t realize that came out today 😁

percy: what’d you think?

annabeth: i think im going to kill you later

“Just look at him,” Piper says, pausing on Percy’s form, his arms outstretched, fingers placed delicately around a bar. “I mean--look at him!”

“Yeah,” she chuckles, maybe a little uneasy. “He’s alright I guess.”

Incredulous, Piper swivels her head. “Alright? Alright? Do you need your eyes checked?”

She just shrugs. 

Why is she being so weird about this? It’s just Piper. She’s trained to find symmetry and beauty in bodies. They’ve happily shared crushes and fixations plenty of times before, so why is Annabeth being so weird about Percy? It’s not like they’re… you know… dating or anything. Just hooking up a bit. 

Piper squints at her, then shrugs herself. “Fine. I don’t have time to get an answer out of you anyway. Come on.”

“Speaking of time,” Annabeth says, following Piper back into the kitchen studio, “I have to head out by 6:30.”

“Oh yeah?” Piper’s head is buried in her belt box, searching for the perfect accent. “What for?”

“I’ve got a show to catch.”

“Kind of early,” she says, pulling out something thin and silver. “Don’t you usually meet Thalia at the ass crack of midnight?”

“Well I kind of want to eat first.”

“Okay.” She cinches the belt around her waist, tight. “Then you’re going to have to help me with this skirt.”

***

Hands aching from hours of macrame, Annabeth walks up to the box office window at the Koch Theater at 7:46, having a handful of second thoughts. 

Old, uppity white couples keep shooting her some particularly intense passive aggressive glares, some of them even venturing into actually aggressive territory, which usually wouldn’t even register on her very short list of things to care about, except that she is feeling woefully out of place. The lady in front of her has ten pounds of diamonds hanging off of each old, wrinkly ear, and the best Annabeth could do was fish out her least-ripped pair of jeans, pairing it with one of her nicer black shirts, the sleeves long enough to cover most of her tattoos. The macrame kept her longer than she had meant, so she didn’t have time to change before dinner, but fuck it, right?

She did also take out most of her face jewelry on the way. But she left the nose stud, obviously. And the tongue piercing. And the industrial, because Percy really likes those, so she doesn’t feel that bad about it. And he hadn’t even told her about this until after she had already given herself the half-undercut, so it’s not like she could do anything about that either.

“Can I help you?” At least this box office worker isn’t giving her the stink-eye. 

“I’m here to pick up a ticket? Should be under ‘Jackson.’” He’d offered to leave it under her name, but this was safer. She doesn’t think her mom is a big ballet person, but she isn’t about to risk it, either.

She slides the ticket towards Annabeth beneath the glass plane. “Enjoy the show,” she says, with a quirk of her mouth that is surprisingly sincere for someone in customer service. 

She’s pretty sure she’d enjoy the show more if she weren’t panicking thinking about getting dirt on their fancy carpets. Her boots are clean, of course, and she doesn’t really care, but she doesn’t want to, like, embarrass Percy or whatever. She’d asked him if she should dress up, but he’d assured her otherwise. “No one’s going to care, I promise,” he’d told her the night before, her lounging in his bed while he did some pushups. “And if anyone says something, let me know and we can kick their ass after the show together.”

“Great. Guess I don’t have to break out the Chanel, then.”

He’d paused, frowned, then huffed a laugh, shaking his head. Like the idea of Annabeth wearing Chanel was hilarious. Like what she’s wearing tonight really is the best that she can do.

Self-consciousness isn’t really a feeling that Annabeth has anymore. She’s spent so many years chafing against expectations, shucking them off when she inevitably failed to meet them, desperate for a place, a crowd where she could just be. In her scene, she doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone, and when Percy is out with her, he doesn’t need any convincing. He likes her. He likes her a lot, she thinks. He likes her enough to let himself be dragged out to every shitty dive bar and shittier rock show in New York City, laughing and cheering and holding her close the whole time. He likes her enough to cart her to his apartment at 4 AM, inevitably waking Nico up from his undead slumber, and leave her with nothing but a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead. And she likes him, too--a lot. Annabeth likes Percy enough to ditch her band t-shirts for a night and track mud on the carpet of the Koch Theater and willingly sit through a performance of fucking Swan goddamn Lake of all things, and it’s only a little scary how much she is willing to do for him after only a few months of fucking him. Because this really isn’t her scene, not anymore. 

The weight of everyone’s stares bears down on her, threatening to crush her beneath them, a feeling she was so sure she’d left behind. 

At least Percy had been thoughtful enough to get her a ticket out of the way in the back of one of the balcony sections. It’s a bit of a hike, but the audience members aren’t dressed quite as nicely as the ones downstairs, and she feels like she can breathe a little easier.

She pulls out her phone, checking her text messages on instinct. There’s a selfie from Percy in his stage makeup (and she’s not going to lie… he looks fucking pretty), with his standard accompanying three blue heart emojis. She can’t help it, her heart skips a beat and she can’t help but smile, even as she rolls her eyes. She’s just about to send him something appropriately sarcastic when another text notification slides in. It’s from her father. 

Hi Annabeth… I was talking to a friend in Boston who said he's looking for a new 

prospective in his architecture firm. Passed your information along. 

Love you, dear

She swipes it away. Deletes the whole text conversation, for good measure. 

Forget about him. This night is about Percy.

A few minutes later, so engrossed in Percy’s program bio (it’s about all she can focus on right now), she doesn’t even notice everyone around her leaning forward in breathless anticipation, until the warm, honey-like sound of the oboe draws her head up. 

Roughly two minutes in, she’s really wishing she had attempted the synopsis. The extent of her knowledge of Swan Lake is a few half-remembered orchestra rehearsals in her teens and reading the Wikipedia article on that Natalie Portman movie a few months ago, and she definitely doesn’t recall there being anything about any Men-in-Tights looking motherfuckers prancing around. They’re sort of bobbing, back and forth, elegantly stepping from one side of the stage to another. Even from back here, she can see the delicate, precise placement of their hands, fingers curved just so, moving through space as though they aren’t bound by the laws of physics.

The fingers, she remembers. She could never get the hang of the fingers. Her old ballet teacher had given up on them after a week, and that had been the beginning of the end for that particular extracurricular. 

Now her fingers tap on her jeans, impatient, far faster than the easy going music on stage. She’s just about to give in to the millennial instinct and pull out her phone, maybe play a round of sudoku, when the dancers motion as one to the back corner, and Percy comes stepping out. His hair is perfectly slicked back, gelled down, any hint of curl beaten into submission, and his smile is small, but white, gleaming against the tanned brown of his skin. She can’t help but smile back, like he could somehow see her. Finally, she thinks, relaxing a little more into her seat. Something to watch.

On his off days, her off days, any day when she would spent the night at his (always at his, never at hers) and wake up wrapped in his comforter and the smell of seawater, she would take the blanket with her and steal into his living room, curl up on his couch with her feet tucked under her legs, and watch him dance. She’s seen him drill these sequences over, and over, and over again, counting furious sequences of sixes and eights beneath his breath in duet with the thuds of his feet on his floor. Most times he would notice her and shoot her a grin, granting her permission to observe the artist at work. Sometimes, though, he would be so caught up in his body, the shifting of his feet and the music in his head, that it was like he couldn’t see her at all. Seemingly alone, he would dance, uninhibited, and she would be struck by a feeling that she usually reserves for specific monuments. Watching Percy dance in his apartment, in his brown tights and black tank top, lost in his own world, is like looking at pictures of the Gateway Arch, or the Hoover Dam, or the Parthenon.

She searches for that feeling now, leaning forward in her seat, eyes hungrily raving his form, but she just doesn’t see it. It’s… honestly, it’s a little boring. She won’t lie. He had warned her it would be something of a slow start, but this isn’t exactly an ADHD friendly medium, and she is losing her patience, just a bit. He’s so reserved, like he’s holding something close to his chest, impersonal as he takes the hands of the female dancers and lets them twirl around him. 

Personally, Annabeth thinks that he looks kind of lost. Maybe he’s just nervous--it’s a big role and he’s a young guy. But he had seemed fine when he’d kissed her goodbye just after lunch. 

The court jester is killing it though. Feeling just the slightest bit guilty, she lets her eyes drift over to him, deciding to watch him for a while instead.

On some level, she does appreciate the skill on display here. Percy can raise his back leg in a perfect ninety degree angle that would make her architecture professors sweat. The girls drift back and forth across the stage on the tips of their toes, weightless and ethereal. It’s mesmerizing, and she lets herself be mesmerized.

Time must slip away from her, because she blinks and all of a sudden the stage has gone from sunny yellow to cool blue, the crowds of dancers having vanished. He is alone on stage. Percy kneels in a deep lunge that makes her thighs ache just looking at him (and for… other reasons), his arms and his attention pointed to the wings, with a… Annabeth squints. When the hell did he get a crossbow?

But everything is swept to the sides when the White Swan tiptoes her way on stage, impossibly graceful, and all of a sudden, Annabeth gets it. 

It feels a little cliche to say, but the way that woman moves on the floor really does remind her of those old, vintage jewelry boxes, suspended in animation, moved by some otherworldly force. It’s amazing. It’s a little terrifying. Sublime is the word that comes to mind as Annabeth watches her. Her arms move with fluidity, perfect curves, her fingers trailing behind her like wings. 

And Percy is just as mesmerized as Annabeth is. As the audience is. 

A few things hit her, in rapid succession. First, that Percy is, actually, a really good actor. His reticence before--he’d been playing a character. He’d been playing aloof and reserved and unmoored, because Percy--Siegfried--whatever--has been waiting his whole life for something to fulfill him, until this singular moment, the moment he laid eyes on this beautiful creature. Second, that she doesn’t need words to understand what’s going on. It’s all there, in every look and gesture and step, as the two characters circle each other, slowly but irrevocably falling in love. And third, that she recognizes the look on his face. It’s the look that Percy gives her when she has been talking for too long and he can’t get a word in edgewise, or when she screams along to the god awful underground bands, three beers in and missing every single fuck she’d ever had, or when she wakes up after him to Percy’s arms around her waist, her hair in his mouth and her head resting against his collarbone. She recognizes it, because that’s the look that Siegfried has for Odette. Because that’s the look that Percy has for Annabeth. Because he loves her.

And fourth, that that doesn’t make her as happy as she wishes it would. 

There’s a cold pit in her stomach for the rest of the show, a turning screw that twists in deeper, minute by minute, with every turn of the dancers. She wastes the next hour trying to puzzle this out, not even pretending to watch the drama unfolding on stage, because it makes no goddamn sense. (Her situation, not the ballet--she managed to skim the synopsis during intermission, her foot tapping incessantly against the blessedly empty seat in front of her.) Things are great between them. It’s been a heady, intoxicating four months, full of bubbles and butterflies, sweet, soft mornings, and some really, really phenomenal sex. This should make her happy. This should put her over the fucking moon, and she cannot, for the life of her, figure out why it doesn’t.

The prima ballerina comes back out as the Black Swan, just as poised and precise as her counterpart, but she’s a great actress as well, because there is something undeniably different about her. Her arms move like rubber, like joints are just an afterthought, wrapping themselves around Percy’s neck and shoulders. She misdirects his attention, drawing his eyes to her wrists, her clavicle, the curve of a leg or the point of her toe. Seducing him. Tricking him. 

Like Annabeth. 

Because try as she might to run from it, Annabeth isn’t who she says she is. She wants so desperately to be this fuck-the-rules, fight-the-power, punk rock princess that she took every part of her that didn’t fit that image and tried to rip it out of her, bloody and struggling. Her trust fund, her two (two!) Harvard degrees, her enriched childhood and her bright and shining future; she took it all out back and shot it, and prayed that would be the end of it. She’s a phony, just like that goddamn Black Swan. Percy is in love with a phony. 

Her sweet, wonderful, devastatingly kind and handsome Percy--she tricked him and made him fall in love with a mishmash of archetypes and aesthetics, distracting him with nose piercings and ripped t-shirts and ugly, deafening noise. 

She’s not surprised that she’s crying when the curtain falls. She’d never known that Siegfried and Odette both died at the end. 

When the cast reunites for curtain call, Percy is given a standing ovation, and Annabeth enthusiastically joins in, wiping the tears from her eyes, smearing her makeup. 

She doesn’t wait for him at the stage door, but sits on the steps of the theater, plucking at her sleeves, aching for a drink and wishing she had had the presence of mind to wear something a little nicer. Percy finds her there almost an hour after the show ended. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

In the dark of night, illuminated only by streetlamps, she can’t read his face--but she can read exhaustion, in every part of his body. “I was waiting for you by the stage door.”

Something in her stomach goes cold. “I… wasn’t sure if I was allowed,” she offers, weakly. 

He smiles, a light in the dark. “Of course you’re allowed,” he says, offering her a hand. “Shall we?”

She knows what will happen next. She’ll take his hand, and they’ll walk to the subway together, fingers intertwined. They’ll get on the 1 train headed north, and Percy will let her rest her head against him, tilting his head back against the window, eyes closed, almost asleep. The doorman will nod at them as they walk up to Nico’s apartment, barely batting an eye at his sweats and her ripped jeans, the two of them sticking out like a sore thumb in a sea of impeccably dressed rich New Yorkers. Nico will wave at them distractedly from his office, gulping down his sixth coffee of the night, and they’ll tiptoe into his room, falling asleep in each other’s arms with little more than a good night kiss. 

Which, of course, is exactly what does end up happening.

Almost. 

Annabeth crawls on top of him in his bed, kissing him soft and senseless. She doesn’t know where he’s getting this energy from, but she is not complaining as he slips up inside of her, the two of them rocking each other gently to orgasm, their foreheads pressed together. Shuddering as he comes, he captures her mouth in another kiss, pouring every ounce of love he has in him into her.

A waste, honestly. 

But as far as goodbye sex, it’s pretty damn great. 

She needs to end this, before either of them get hurt. It’s the least of what he deserves, after all. To put yourself out there, to offer yourself up like that, that might be the bravest thing Annabeth’s ever heard of, and surely, Annabeth can find the courage to do what needs to be done.

[zims-left-shoe]

Can you do a Dib x Reader that’s into tarot cards and horoscopes? Also can make this AU a college AU? I know you said you write the characters up to high school but I was just wondering if you would. It’s fine you do them in high school.

Yeah! Just a warning, I’m not super experienced with tarot cards and everything, so apologies if a lot of it is inaccurate. I hope it’s still okay!!

The air was warm, and the sweet scents of pastries mingled with the sharp smell of coffee. The surrounding chatter of voices and calm music served as decent white noise. You lifted your drink to your lips, eyes drifting to the window next to you. Shades of grey painted the sky, muted tones growing ever darker as time ticked by. Outside, the air had a nasty nip to it, and you were not looking forward to stepping outside again. Plus, you were enjoying yourself in the moment. Your gaze was drawn back to the man across from you, his large glasses fogging slightly from the heat of his own drink. 

You were more than delighted that he had asked you to come study with him at the coffee shop. Sure, you had wished he had the courage to bite the bullet and ask you on an actual date, but on a chilly winter afternoon a relaxing coffee hangout and study session was still enjoyable. Admittedly, you had developed feelings for the reserved cryptid fanatic who sat next to you in your cell biology class. That being said, you were ecstatic when he had quietly asked that morning if you would like to grab a coffee and study with him. Although you wished for a bit more, the current situation was completely fine by you.

"Have you been doing anything interesting lately?" Both of you had finished your work quite some time ago, spending the rest of the time talking to each other, a silence only settling for a brief minute or two before you continued the conversation. Sure, it was small talk, but the kind of talk that occurs between friends when they can sense their time together is drawing to a close, and that the hangout will end soon. The kind of talk when you aren't ready to leave each other's company, so you attempt to draw out the conversation with simple things.

"Oh, you know, only what every normal college kid does. Party hard, baby." The straight face he was attempting to hold fell apart almost immediately as he broke into a chuckle. "Nah. Just the usual, studying the paranormal. Aliens, ghosts, all that stuff." A smile spread on your face. Of course he was. You found his unique obsession with spooks and cryptids cute, and you were glad he had a passion in life. Even if that passion was restricted while he was away at school, he would still find ways to express himself. He was always scribbling supernatural doodles in the margins of his notes, monitoring the local cryptid stories constantly. "Sorry. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm just not that interesting."

"Please. Liking the paranormal is much more interesting than being a party animal whose only hobby is getting wasted." You paused, setting your cup down on the table. "I wouldn't be here otherwise. I'm only attrac-I mean, drawn, to people who are intriguing."

Nice save, stupid... You thought to yourself. At this point, you were unsure if you should just tell him how you felt. You were reasonably confident that he felt the same way, but he was just too damn nervous to ruin your friendship. 

"Okay then, any secrets, or maybe embarrassing stories? Everyone has some. If you tell me one of yours, I'll tell you a story of mine." You bumped your bag that was resting underneath the table with your foot as you stared out at him, trying to pressure him into telling you something good. He always had the best stories. Especially when they were about aliens.

"My whole life is one embarrassing story after the other." He set his cup down as well, finding your eyes once more. "But, I guess one time I had my DNA fused with baloney." You laughed, believing him to be joking. You believed him a majority of the time, but that one was just so outlandish it couldn't possibly be true. "I'm not lying! Remember my stupid alien classmate? Well, he decided to get me back for throwing lunch meat in his face by making me sit on a tack that fused baloney DNA with my own." He was completely serious, so that left only two options: he was either completely insane or it was the truth. For the time you've known and befriended him, he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, so what the hell. Why not believe him?

"I'm honestly not sure which part to ask for a follow up on, the alien classmate having baloney genetic makeup on the ready or being fused with sandwich meat." Brushing stray strands of hair from your face, you sighed, knowing that your story was in no way going to top that. "Mine isn't that exciting or embarrassing, but in high school, I charged for tarot readings in the bathrooms as a way to make some money. Well, I did until a teacher reported me for 'Satan worshipping'. Which, for starters is complete bullshit, but she was just jealous I made more money a week than she did." You smirked, remembering the look on her face when she confiscated your receipt book that you used to keep track of your profits. 

"Wait, you used to read tarot cards?" Dib offered you his full attention, eyes filled with wonder. "I've always thought it was cool, but I just never really had gotten into it. Too busy saving the Earth from aliens and all that."

"I still do. You have your cryptids and space creatures, I have my tarot cards and horoscopes." To your amazement, Dib appeared to be enchanted by the subject. Then again, you supposed it was more or less something you could see him getting into.

"How did I not know that about you?" You shrugged in response to his words. It had just never came up in conversation. "Maybe we could hang out again soon and you could walk me through it?" He looked to be a bit apprehensive, almost as if you had already rejected the idea in his mind. You didn't even have to consider the idea. Not only did you harbor feelings for him, you would jump at the chance to show off your skills and interests.

"I would love to. My roommate has to work Friday night, maybe you could come to my dorm then?" A dorky grin spread across his face as he reached for his cup to drink the remaining coffee.

"It's a date, then." His face flushed as he realized his wording. "Not like that! As friends! You know what I mean." His fingers drummed on the tabletop, and you were sure he was sweating.

"I mean, unless...?" You made an overexaggerated thinking face, and after a moment, you both busted up laughing. However, you were of course only half joking.

(more under the cut)

-

Pushing open the door, you stepped into the room you had made your own. Kicking aside some shoes your roommate had left piled by the door, you let the man behind you inside.

"Sorry for the mess, I asked my roommate to clean up. They didn't."

"It's fine. You should see my dorm, it's definitely worse." Chuckling, you led him to your side of the room, which was a stark contrast from the other. Everything, for the most part anyway, was organized within bins, your desk nice and tidy despite having many trinkets and various things resting on the desktop. You had made a nice personal space under your bed, it was where you would often sit when you got tired of your desk or bed. Gesturing for him to take a seat on the floor under your bed, you went over to your desk, shuffling through one of your drawers until you felt your fingers close around your tarot deck.

"You have any questions before we start?" You hummed as you closed the drawer.

Dib's eyes were intently focused on you as he sat cross-legged underneath your bed. Finally, he spoke, albeit tentatively. "Just one, but it's kind of stupid."

"There are no stupid questions."

"Okay, in that case...does reading tarot cards like, open up your third eye and let you see ghosts and stuff?" Staring into his face revealed that he wasn't kidding. He was legitimately asking if you could see ghosts when you learned to read tarot cards.

"I changed my mind. There are stupid questions." Laughter slipped out as you sunk down the the floor across from him, tipping the box in your hands until the cards slid out. "Of course it does."

"Woah, really?" His cinnamon eyes sparkled with excitement, and yet again, a flurry of giggles escaped you.

"No, of course not. It doesn't make you see ghosts. It develops greater intuition and understanding." Dib let out a long breath, gaze falling to the floor as he picked at the chipping black polish on his nails, regretting he ever asked that question.

"Can we just forget I ever said that? Please?" You nodded as you separated the deck in your hands, shuffling them together. You did this many times over, the sharp sounds of cards coming together cutting through the stillness that had settled over the room. Dib stared at the cards in your hand, watching as you shuffled them with skill. He had lost track of how many times you had done so by the time you had stacked them together for the final time.

"So, is there anything specific you want to learn? I can't exactly teach you to read, since it takes a lot of practice and a deck you're comfortable with." As you looked to him expectantly, he appeared to be at a total loss for what to even ask for. "I could give you a simple reading just for fun." 

"Sure! But, uh, how do they work?" A smile crept onto your face. You felt a warm glow of happiness at being able to share your interests with someone who was genuinely interested in learning about them.

"Well, if I were to do it by myself, I would shuffle them as I did now. It helps bring your energy to the cards, and therefore you will be more drawn to certain ones. Plus, you can better interpret them." You passed the deck to Dib. "If you can shuffle, shuffle them. Do it several times."

"Okay...what exactly are you reading for?" He began shuffling, although not as cleanly as you. A few times the cards had slipped from his grip, flying out in all directions. Every time that would happen, he gathered the cards and began to shuffle again as he listened to you.

"Well, we're just going to do a simple spread of three, but it can be for almost anything. Your past, present, and future, advice for obstacles, relationships, all of that stuff." 

"Relationships?" Dib stacked the cards for a final time, handing them back to you. You took them, spreading them out in front of you, face down. 

"Yeah, there's all different types of readings for relationships. Is that the simple spread you want?" He thought for a moment, a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he looked to you. 

"I think so. You said there's different types of relationship readings, so just make an executive decision for me."

"That's not how this works." Your sigh was broken by a chuckle. "But fine. I'll do a spread where a card represents you, the other person, and the relationship." You found yourself wishing for a good outcome, thinking that he was most likely asking about the relationship he could possibly have with you, or at least that's what you were hoping for. "Pick three cards that you're drawn to and line them up across from you."

"Alright..." He stared at the arc of cards that was laid out in the space between you, deliberating, eyes carefully calculating. He brushed a finger across the glossy backs of the cards, finally deciding on two close to the middle, and one on the leftmost edge. He laid them out as you had asked, looking back to you expectantly. "Now what?"

"Now I give you your reading. I'll try my best to interpret the cards in the context of your life, but don't hold it against me if I'm not one hundred percent accurate." You flipped over the spread, the three cards facing up.

"Did I do good...?"

"It's not about making the right choices, it's about being drawn to the cards." You chided, looking at his spread. The cards that had been turned over were an upright Nine of Wands, a reversed Hanged Man, and an upright World. "Let's start with you." You pushed the card a little closer to him. It depicted a bandaged man leaning heavily on a wooden wand, surrounded by the other eight. "This is the Nine of Wands."

"Is it bad?" He looked curious, but there were concerned undertones in his expression.

"No, not necessarily. As a card, it represents courage, determination, and resilience. In the context of your part in the relationship, there may be or have been setbacks for you personally, but you have the strength to overcome those things. You might get hurt, or things may be tough and uncertain for you right now, but you will persist and get through it." A light blush dusted his cheeks as he nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds about right...does getting in your own way count as a setback?" Dib chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Sure. If I had to offer advice...no risk, no reward, right?" You both locked eyes for a moment, a hush falling over the room yet again. Again, this same, infuriating dance. You both were aware of how you felt. Yet neither would make a move. 

"I suppose..." Dib actually seemed to be taking all of this into deep consideration. You couldn't help the hope that you felt rising in your chest.

"Alright, next...the other individual. This is the Hanged Man, but it's reversed." Again, you pushed the card forward. It depicted a man who was supposed to be hanging by the ankle from a tree, but from the direction it was turned, it appeared he was more standing upright.

"Are reversed cards bad?"

"They can be. The reversed Hanged Man for example generally means that the person is ready to go but is being held back. In context of the other person in your case, maybe they're ready to jump into a relationship but you might be holding them back by not taking a chance." Okay, so maybe that wasn't really a reading. You may have been guilty of inserting your own personal feelings into the reading, since you assumed the relationship in question was between yourself and Dib. You recognized the hint of irritation that was edging your words, so you drew in a deep breath, continuing on in a softer tone. "You know, like you said. You said your setback could be getting in your own way. You might be overthinking everything, which is restricting the other person from taking the next step."

"You think so?" Again, that damned knowing tone. When you looked into his eyes, you knew that he was aware of how you felt. And yet he still stopped himself every time from taking that leap. Was he waiting for you to make the first move? You hoped not. Sure, it may have been hypocritical, but you wanted no part in asking for a more romantic end to your friendship.

Clearing your throat, you decided to move to the last card of the spread. "The relationship itself. This card is the World." You held it up this time to show him, wishing to hold onto it. The card illustrated a naked woman in the middle of a wreath, surrounded by various animal heads. "Generally, it represents being in the right place, pausing before the next stage." Admittedly, that was not the reading you had desired. You didn't want to stay as only friends. "In context of the relationship, it could be interpreted as staying put, and just appreciating where the two of you are. There will be lots of options and pathways ahead and all that." You waved your hand dismissively, unable to fight off the exhaustion that was settling in. "So, anyway, that was your very basic reading." You stacked the cards together again, lazily patting the ground around you for the box.

"Is this stuff, like, certain advice?"

"You mean, do you have to take it? No, I suppose not. It's just suggestions and life advice based on interpretations."

Dib crawled his way over to sit by your side as you put your cards safely back in their box. You quirked an eyebrow, yet said nothing. "Okay, because I'm not too into that last one." Without tearing his eyes away from yours, his fingers brushed your own. He kept eyeing your face to confirm that what he was doing was alright. Always cautious, that one. 

"I probably shouldn't give my input, since it's your life advice, but me either." A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as his fingers finally laced themselves with yours, his free hand drifting up to your face. His touch was light, so much so that you weren't even sure if it was there. In that moment, Dib was a walking contradiction, unsure of himself yet completely secure at the same time.

"But if you're reading the cards, aren't I asking for your input?" Slowly he leaned his face closer to yours, hand still resting on your cheek. Fitting, wasn't it? Everything the both of you had ever done was drug out to the maximum. Whether it was that you both enjoyed the frustration or you wanted to extend every moment you had together, you would never know. Nor did it matter. Especially not then. 

"I suppose you are." You reached out a hand to run it through his hair, intertwining your fingers with the dark strands. "You're sure, then?" Each word that was spoken became progressively fainter. The entire time you spoke, his lips were barely a breath away from your own.

As if your words were the cue he needed to commit, he murmured a quick, "I think so." before finally closing the distance and pressing his lips softly against yours. He didn't need to speak for you to know that was all he had been dreaming of doing for a long while. It was obvious in the magical way he was moving his lips in time with your own, in the way delighted hums and mumbles would rise from his throat. In your opinion, there was something to be said about mouth-to-mouth communication. This was possibly the happiest you had ever seen him, you didn't need to be a master of intuition to interpret that. You felt him smile into the kiss, and you couldn't resist smiling along with him. 

Dib finally pulled away after what felt like both an eternity and hardly any time at all. "You said it yourself. No risk, no reward." His grin was wide, and his eyes shone with joy behind his large glasses. 

"Correct." Your hand fell from his hair to his coat, fingers playing with the fabric of the collar. "I usually charge for tarot readings, but for you, another kiss and consider your tab paid."

"Sounds fair enough to me." Leaning in once more, Dib planted yet another kiss on your lips. It was much quicker than the previous one, but after pulling back he proceeded to pepper several little kisses all over your face. Each was very light and brief, leaving your skin feeling tingly. His lips found your own once more, both hands tangling themselves in your hair. A simple tarot reading had somehow morphed into a very physical expression of feelings that had been pushed down for months. You wouldn't complain, though.

"Thank you for your payment." Your words were broke by giggles after you had parted. 

"Of course." Dib's gaze drifted to the box of cards that was sitting off to the side, his smile never wavering. "You know, you should teach me how to read those."

"Only if you take me cryptid hunting."

"Deal." He laughed at the determined smirk on your face, wrapping his arms around you. You let him pull you into a hug, your arms snaking around him as if that was where they were always meant to be. 

"So, can we safely consider ourselves ex-friends now? Because personally, I feel that we're much better off as lovers."

"Like I said before, I trust your input, it's what I asked for." 

"So, lovers it is?"

"Lovers it is." Dib's voice was pleasant as you snickered into his chest, more than pleased with how the day had went. You sensed that he would agree with that notion. 

[stanxeddiexrich]

Streddie College AU Headcanons:

• Stan, Eddie, and Rich end up at the same college—a state school in Massachusetts. When they all received their acceptance letters, Richie Tozier cried.

• They requested a triple dorm room. It’s cheaper, and they all get to actually live together after so many years of having to sneak into each other’s bedrooms late at night.

• Richie called dibs on the top bunk, which was fine because nobody else wanted it anyway. Eddie got the bottom bunk, and Stan took the single twin bed.

• “Hey, Eds. Now I can tell everyone that you’re a bottom. Get it? Because you’re in the bo-”

“Beep fucking beep, Richie.”

“Besides, everyone already knows you’re a switch, at best.”

“YOWZA! Stan the Man gets off a good one!”

•It takes two nights before they push the single bed next to the bottom bunk. They sleep on this makeshift double bed every night, unless one of them needs some space.

•They fight over who gets to sleep in the middle, but Eddie usually wins.

• Richie is a theater major. Stan is majoring in business, with a minor in ornithology (the fact that their college offered this minor was a huge reason why they all applied there in the first place). Eddie came to school undecided. After so much time being told what he likes, he needed time to learn who he is. He really clicked with his biology classes, so he declared a major in nursing after first semester.

•Richie IMMEDIATELY joins an improv group. And he’s GOOD at it. People find him genuinely funny, and he gets casted in his first improv show in October.

• Richie is fucking NERVOUS before his first show but he pretends he’s absolutely fine. Stan sees through it immediately.

• Stan will give both of his boys sass any hour of the day, but he can immediately tell when they’re spiraling and steps in ASAP with gentleness and love. So, he draws Richie into a hug and rubs gentle circles into his back. Richie noticeably relaxes at the touch. And if Stan whispers how much he loves Richie and, begrudgingly, how funny he thinks Richie is, that’s their business.

•Eddie wants to make a sign for Richie’s improv show. He proposes the idea to Stan, who insists that it’s very inappropriate to bring a sign like that into a theater performance.

• They settle for sitting at the very front of the auditorium, heckling and cheering louder than everyone.

• Richie kills it in his show. The audience eats it up and he instantly gains notoriety around campus. He tells everyone his stage name is “Trashmouth.” To Steddie’s disdain, it catches on.

• There’s an afterparty after the show, and the three of them get buzzed. Or, rather, Eddie and Stan get buzzed. Richie gets celebratory-smashed. Stan and Eddie walk him home, one of Richie’s arms over each of their shoulders. Richie alternating between kissing Eddie’s cheek and Stan’s cheek. Eddie muttering under his breath: “I love you so much but you’re such an idiot, you know what happens when you drink Tequila. If you puke on my shoes I’ll literally kill you. I swear, Richie. And what the fuck are you looking at?”

• Stan’s just smiling softly at his cute stupid boyfriends. “Nothing.”

• Once they make it into their dorm room, Eddie gives up his middle spot in the bed for Richie that night.

[intheticklecloset]

Avocado (Invader Zim Oneshot)

Hey everyone! This one isn’t fulfilling any particular request; I just loved this idea and wanted to put it into words, so here we are! I hope you enjoy it - I had a lot of fun writing it! ^^

Fandom: Invader Zim

Shipping: ZADF, a little ZADR

~

Zim could hardly sit still. He shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable and failing. He glanced at Dib, who sat on the opposite end, an open cushion and reasonable space between them. The human’s eyes were fixed on the screen, but he didn’t seem much more interested in what they were watching than Zim was.

The desire was gnawing at him. More than anything he wanted to break the monotony with an activity that – until Earth – Zim had never been able to participate in without feeling like a foolish smeet, a failure to the Irken Empire. But he recalled how much Dib had protested the first time around, and it made him hesitate now.

Finally, the combination of longing and the unbearable silence between them wore Zim down. He said, “Dib?”

“Hmm?”

Zim swallowed. “I want to tickle you.”

He could feel the human tense beside him. A warning alarm began to go off in his mind. He dared to glance at his friend anyway. Dib was looking at him with a mix of surprise, confusion, and uncertainty. Zim rushed on. “I know you don’t like it like I do, not that side of it, but…I don’t know. You said before maybe we could…talk about it?”

Dib’s look of trepidation softened, and he nodded slowly. “Sure, Zim. We can talk about it.”

Zim nodded back, and the two fell into silence once more. After a few long moments, the alien cleared his throat nervously. “I…don’t know how to talk about it.”

Dib smiled a little. “Well…maybe start with…why? Before you said you liked having me at your mercy. Is that the only reason?”

“Kind of…�� Zim mumbled. He shrugged. “There is something truly special about seeing you like that. When I’ve felled enemies before it was always to destroy them permanently, for the Empire. With you, I don’t want to do that anymore. But part of me…” He trailed off, falling quiet.

Dib, genuinely interested, shifted on the couch so he was facing Zim. “Part of you what?”

“Part of me does miss the fighting we did.” Zim looked at him. “It gave me a reason to get up in the morning, knowing you were out there aware of my true identity, knowing you wanted to destroy me just as badly as I wanted to destroy you. I guess…I guess after you tickled me that first time I realized that even though we don’t fight like we used to, there was still a way I could claim victory over you that wouldn’t cause any damage. And it’s far more personal of a victory, too. I find that appealing.”

“So it’s not partly because you like hearing me laugh?”

“Oh, most definitely!” Zim replied quickly, eagerly. “The joy of victory is relishing the moment. The reactions I produce from you are very, very pleasing to me.”

Dib couldn’t help but smile. He blushed a little and looked away. “That’s reassuring, I guess.”

“What about you?” Zim asked, inspired by this ‘talking’ thing. “Why do you not like to be tickled?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, exactly, it’s just…I only really enjoy it when it’s with people I’m close to. Like, you know. My dad or my sister. Maybe friends, if I really had any.” He stopped suddenly, the realization of his words hitting him hard. He met Zim’s eyes.

“Friends like me?” the alien asked quietly.

Dib paused, then nodded. “Yeah. I guess so.” He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, weighing his options and his next words carefully. “I think the thing is, I’d like the security of knowing that when I really want it to stop, it’ll stop.” He recalled being handcuffed to his bed, desperately wishing Zim would listen to his pleas for mercy as his feet were being tickled. Dib nodded again. “I’d like to have a safe word.”

“A ‘safe’ word?” Zim inquired.

“A safe word is a word that signals when something really needs to stop,” Dib explained. “In this case, when I seriously need you to stop tickling me.”

“So it would be okay to tickle you, as long as I stop when you say this word?”

“Exactly.”

Zim smirked. “So it would be like you surrendering to me.”

“Uh, yeah. In a way.”

“I like this idea.” Zim’s smirk grew. “What is the word?”

Dib hadn’t thought this far ahead. He considered for a moment. “How about…um…avocado?”

“Avocado?” Zim frowned, confused. “What does that have to do with tickling?”

“It doesn’t. That’s the point. Hearing it would be so out of context to the situation that it would grab your attention and let you know I was seriously done.”

Zim thought about it for only a second, then nodded. “Agreed. I hear ‘avocado,’ I stop tickling, and I win.”

Dib couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure. And I guess now that we’ve figured that out, if you want…”

Zim didn’t let him finish. He hurried forward, grabbing Dib by the leg to pull him closer with one swift tug, then hopped onto him and immediately went for his underarms.

“Whoa! Hey!” Dib yelped in surprise before bursting into giggles and pulling his arms down defensively. Zim managed to poke and prod around the general area, but was never able to reach the prize.

“Surrender your weak spot, Dib,” Zim ordered, skittering his fingers over the human’s ribs instead.

“J-Just because I said you could tickle me doesn’t mean I’ll make it easy for you,” Dib replied, grinning and giggling and instinctively trying to protect himself.

“You wish for me to earn the right to your bad spot?”

Bad spot. The words made Dib shudder. “Well I’m not just going to let you at it, so, yeah.”

“Very well.” In a flash, Zim grabbed Dib’s wrists and forced them away from his body and over his head, gathering them in one hand and pinning them to the arm rest while using his free hand to scribble into the human’s right underarm. Dib’s giggles became surprised laughter and his struggling increased. “How is that, human?”

Dib tried bucking his hips to get Zim off of him. “N-Not what I m-meant, but--!” He dissolved into laughter for a few moments. “Effective!”

“Yes,” Zim agreed, very nearly losing balance when Dib bucked his hips a second time. He growled playfully. “You fight too much.”

“I can’t help it!” Dib cried, finally freeing his left hand from the alien’s grip to try and pull those tickling fingers away. “It tickles!”

Zim grinned wickedly. “Oh, you think this tickles?”

Suddenly he leapt off of Dib and the couch, grabbing the boy by his coat and dragging him down to the floor. Dib landed in an awkward heap, and Zim took the opportunity to pull his arms above his head again and then sit on them, pinning them in place while he reached forward and dug mercilessly into his friend’s now completely vulnerable underarms.

Dib screeched with laughter, arching his back and kicking the ground to no avail. “No, no, no! Stop, Zim!”

“I will stop,” Zim replied, chuckling, “when you mean it.”

Resolved to his fate, Dib lay on the ground shrieking and laughing and squirming and thrashing, watching Zim’s face light up with a strange sort of evil delight at how helpless he’d so quickly become.

A minute or two later and just when Dib was beginning to think he couldn’t take any more, Zim slowed to a gradual stop, eventually pulling his hands away entirely to let Dib catch his breath. “W-Why’d you stop?”

Zim quirked a brow. “Do you want more?”

“N-No,” Dib stammered, blushing furiously. “I mean…I appreciate the breather.”

“I do not wish to wear you out so quickly, Dib.” Zim wiggled his fingers teasingly. “I want to draw this out as long as you can handle it.”

Dib groaned. “I don’t have the stamina or love for it that you do. I won’t last very long.”

“I will train you to withstand more as time goes on.”

“Train? What am I, a dog?”

“An experiment.” Zim pulled back Dib’s coat and slipped his hands beneath the short sleeves of Dib’s t-shirt. “An ongoing one.” He slooooowly began to run his fingers along the sensitive skin of the human’s weak spot. “If you’ll allow me, I may even teach you to enjoy it.”

With the alien hovering so close to his face, it was impossible for Dib to miss the excited look in his friend’s pink eyes, the smirk that gave away how much he enjoyed being in control. The very light, teasing tickling was certainly not helping things. Dib could feel the heat of his blush as it burned his cheeks.

“I-I don’t know about that…”

“We’ll see.”

Without any warning or buildup whatsoever, Zim suddenly threw Dib back into complete hysterics, laughter spilling from him freely – along with a protest and a plea here and there. The alien watched his helpless friend writhe on the ground beneath him like a fish out of water, all from a simple touch to the right spot, and grinned. He relished the rush of power he felt in this moment, knowing he was in total control and only one word would stop him from tickling Dib until he begged for mercy like the inferior creature he was.

“Please, Zim! Go somewhere else!” the human shrieked, laughing uncontrollably. “I can’t take it there much longer!”

Zim slowed to a stop again. “I’ll decide where to tickle you, Dib. I do so enjoy the reactions I’m getting right now.”

Taking several deep breaths, Dib said, “Do you have to pin my arms up like this?”

“You struggle too much. Plus, I like it when you can’t stop me.”

“Sadist?”

“Master of the situation.” Zim tilted his head. “You are very red.”

Dib groaned again. “I’m blushing, Zim.”

“I know what human blushing looks like. I mean, you get redder every time I give you a break.”

Oh, there was no way Dib was telling Zim it was the teasing making him blush harder. No. Way. “I don’t know, Zim,” he replied lamely, after a little too long of a pause.

Unfortunately for him, Zim was intelligent. He knew better. He latched onto the lie and squinted at Dib suspiciously. “You do know. You just won’t tell me.” A slow, evil smile spread across his face. “Well, Dib. As I’m sure you know by now…” He began scribbling again. “I have ways of making you talk.”

“Agh! No!” Dib tossed his head back and laughed, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the image of the alien smirking down at him, already triumphant in his victory. “No, Zim!”

“If you would like to make this an interrogation, Dib, I’ll be very happy to play the inquisitor.” Zim chuckled darkly. “Tell me.”

Oh, crap. This was not good. Dib knew he wouldn’t be able to resist admitting it to Zim eventually, and then the Irken would take that information and use it against him and make this so much worse and…

“I don’t have all night, Dib.” Zim’s scribbling turned to digging. “Tell me.”

“Please, Zim!” Dib screeched desperately, his laughter coming out so fast and hard he struggled to gasp in enough air between rounds. “Zim, stop, I can’t take it!”

“Then tell me.”

“Zim!!”

“Tell me.”

And just as he knew he would, Dib crumbled. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you! Just stop! Please!”

Zim did stop, allowing the human a few moments before tapping his fingers against his underarms as a reminder. “Well?”

“The t-teasing,” Dib mumbled, unable to look at the alien. “I keep blushing harder because you keep teasing me.”

“Oh?” Zim’s smirk was back. “You like teasing, do you?”

“Ugh.” Dib really wished he could pull his arms down. “It’s not that I like it. It just…affects me. That’s all.”

“I see. Well then, what if I…?” Zim hovered his fingers over Dib’s field of vision and wiggled them slowly.

Dib’s cheeks flared red and he shivered, looking away. “Yeah, that’ll do it. Way to go, Zim.”

“Do not mock me, human,” Zim snapped with a smile, suddenly plunging his wiggling fingers into Dib’s ribcage, startling him into a short yelp followed by an overflow of giggles. “I have discovered a new weakness that I am very excited to experiment with further.”

“I-I’m sure you are.”

Dib pulled his legs up in an effort to protect at least part of his ribs from the tickling, since his arms were useless trapped above him like they were. Zim glanced up, grinned, and slowed his fingers to a gentle crawl.

“I’m going to let your arms go now,” the alien said.

Surprised, Dib said, “Uh…okay.”

As promised, Zim pushed himself up off the floor, allowing Dib to gratefully bring his arms down to his sides. Once there, however, Zim quickly rolled Dib onto his stomach and leapt over him to straddle his ankles, leaving an entirely new part of him immobile.

“Oh, no! Hey!” Dib cried, trying to free himself but finding it difficult to do much more than flail. “No, Zim, not this again!”

“Your arms are free,” Zim replied, making quick work of the shoes and socks covering the human’s feet. “You have a safe word. I don’t see how this is a repeat situation.”

“Wait! Give me a second first!”

“For what?”

“To just…prepare myself.”

Zim scribbled wildly over Dib’s soles. “Why would I do that?” he asked, grinning in satisfaction at the boom of laughter he pulled from the human’s lungs.

Dib shrieked and screamed and pounded the floor with his fists, unable to do much else as an explosion of mirth overtook him. His feet were ridiculously ticklish. “Stop, stop, stop! Please, no! Not there! ZIM!”

“These reactions please me, Dib.” Zim switched to raking up and down Dib’s arches. “Give me more.”

All Dib could do was laugh and laugh and laugh. He struggled and thrashed desperately but it was no use. He wasn’t going anywhere, and Zim wasn’t letting up, and it was just so ticklish he couldn’t stand it, and he begged more profusely than he had all night. “Oh my god, stop, Zim! Please stop! Please! Not there! Anywhere but there!”

Zim knew full well he was pushing Dib’s limits, but he was having too much fun to care. He loved the screaming laughter, the desperate pleading, the useless attempts at escape. It was all so wonderful – both dishing it out and taking it later.

Then, with one final, pleading cry: “Avocado!”

Zim remembered their earlier talk and stopped immediately, releasing Dib’s ankles. He turned to watch the boy curl into a red-faced, panting, giggling ball with immense satisfaction and a power rush he knew he would want to seek again soon, over and over. But not today. For now, he was content.

A minute later, after he’d somewhat recovered, Dib shakily sat up and put his socks and shoes back on, still blushing red and taking large breaths of air. He turned, saw Zim watching him with that victorious smirk on his face, opened his mouth, and was surprised when the alien cut him off.

“Thank you.”

Dib blinked. “Huh? For what?”

“For letting me destroy you with tickle torture.”

“Ha!” Dib laughed before he could stop himself. He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’d call that tickle torture, but you’re welcome.” Then he looked again, saw Zim’s face, and knew instantly he’d regret saying what he just said. “I mean…uh…”

“Not torture, you say?” Zim cracked his knuckles.

Dib hurried to divert his train of thought. “Thank you for stopping when I used the safe word.”

“You’re welcome, Dib-stink.” The alien’s pink eyes shone with wicked delight.

Crap, Dib thought. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?

Zim hopped back up onto the couch, settled in, and smirked at the TV, though it was obvious his mind was far from the show.

“Not torture, huh? Challenge accepted.”

[krizaland]

Imagine- Yandere!Dib (or just stalker!dib) x reader x Zim Where the reader recognizes dibs real creepy behavior and ends up going to Zim zam their friendo/crush for comfort and/or protection. And then that freinddhip becomes something more? Sorry for the long thing

Don’t be sorry! I love your idea! I kinda got carried away so there’s gonna be more than one chapter!

Be warned: Yanderes are creepy fucks. This fic will contain stalking, and obsessive behaviors.

Ever since you were little, you always were a little too nice. Anytime you saw someone in trouble, you always had the urge to help them no matter what.

Usually, most people would except your help and you would walk away feeling like you’ve done the right thing.

You never once regretted helping someone in need.

That is until Dib came along.

It all started in Elementary Skool. Dib was being picked on by a gaggle of bullies.

They dangled his favorite camera in front of his face while they pelted him with insult after insult.

Just hearing the sounds of Dib’s pained cries made your heart ache.

You remember pushing the bullies away and saving the camera.

The moment you handed the camera back to Dib, you noticed an unnerving look behind his glasses.

At first you brushed it off and tried to continue on with your day.

However, Dib insisted that you stay and talk with him.  You didn’t think much of it so you decided to humor him.

That was your biggest mistake.

The next thing you were bombarded with a flurry of conspiracy theories and accusations of random students being bigfeets and vampires in disguise.

Needless to say, you were pretty creeped out and decided to avoid him from that day fourth.

However, your attempts were all in vain.

No matter where you went, Dib would always be there, ready to drown you in another wave of paranormal nonsense.

Things only got worse as you got older.

Dib’s desire for your friendship had mutated into something far far worse.

To say he had a crush on you was a major understatement!

He would always follow you around and try to get your attention.

Whenever you needed something, Dib would miraculously have it for you the next day.

However, you knew that if you accepted the ‘gift’ you’d be subjected to yet another paranormal rant.

So you decided to politely decline his gifts, no matter how bad you needed the item in question.

Dib seemed to give up on you after he figured out you weren’t interested in his ‘gifts’.

Or so you thought.

You soon found your locker flooded countless love notes and slabs of heart shaped meat.

Each note was creepier than the last and you couldn’t get the stench of rotting meat out of your locker no matter how much you cleaned it.

You then started to notice cameras following you wherever you went.

At first you assumed it was just part of the Skool’s security system. After all, you’ve heard rumors that the Skool tends to watch students like hawks to make sure they don’t cheat on exams.

However, it didn’t take long for you to start noticing the same cameras peeking outside of your window.

Needless to say, you decided it was best to keep your blinds shut from that point on.

Of course, closing your blinds wasn’t enough to stop the creepy coincidences happening wherever you went.

Not by a long shot.

You soon found some of your underwear and dirty socks had mysteriously vanished.

The trashcans outside your house always rustled throughout the night. Only to be found tipped over by morning.

Things only got creepier at Skool.

You would always feel someone breathing heavily down your back whenever you talked to another student.

You would turn around but no one would be there.

To make matters worse, the next day, the student you had talked to would go missing.

Whenever the class needed to work in pairs, Dib would somehow always end up being your partner.

You always dreaded being paired with Dib for when he was’t spewing his usual brand of paranormal nonsense, he would often spend his time showering you with the creepiest compliments imaginable.

Things got even worse when the Skool Dance rolled around.

Dib wasted no time and sauntered up to you.

“Hey, Y/N! Glad I caught you! I was wondering if you had a date to the dance yet?”

You could see the madness oozing from his amber eyes with every word he spoke.

“Oh! Well I’m actually not going to the dance.” You admitted as you rubbed the back of your head.

“Oh? Why not?” Dib asked as he drew closer.

“Because I have a lot of homework to do.” You knew that wasn’t too far from the truth. You did have a lot of homework but that wasn’t the main reason.

“That’s why? You know, I could help out with that, if you want.” Dib offered, his eyes continued to stare into your soul.

“No. No that’s ok! I’d prefer to do it all myself. A-Anyway, I gotta get going! I gotta get to class and stuff so bye!”

And with that, you ran as fast as your legs could take you.

A creepy smile spread across Dib’s face as he watched you escape.

“Just you wait, Y/N, you’ll be mine someday…Then we’ll be together forever.”  

A small giggle escaped his throat. The giggle quickly grew and grew until Dib erupted into full on maniacal laughter.

The next day, your savior had arrived.

Standing next to Ms.Bitters was the cutest boy you had ever seen!

He may have had lime green skin but you couldn’t care less. After all you’ve seen way weirder kids walk through the door before.

“Class, I would like to introduce the newest, hopeless appendage to the student body. His name is Zim” Ms. Bitters grumbled “Zim, if you’ve got something to say, say it now because after this moment, I don’t want to hear another sound from you!”

Zim was taken aback by Ms. Bitters’s outburst but he quickly regained his composure.

“Hello, friends. I am a perfectly normal human-worm baby. You have nothing, absolutely nothing to fear from me. Just pay no attention to me and we’ll get along just fine.”

You struggled to stifle a giggle as Zim spoke. He sure did have a way with words.

Dib’s mouth was agape as he pointed at Zim. His body shook with anticipation as his crazed mind searched for words to shout.

“Take your seat now Zim!” Ms. Bitters snapped as she slithered back to her desk.

Zim cheerfully plopped down into the seat next to yours, only adding to Dib’s madness.

“Today’s lecture is about outer space and about how it will EVENTUALLY IMPLODE IN ON ITSELF!” Ms Bitters sneered.

Zim immediately hopped up onto his desk and waved his arms around.

“Yes, Zim?”

“In the event of say, a full scale alien invasion, how prepared do you think this planet’s defenses would be? Tell me.” Zim’s voice quivered as he sat back down.

“As I was saying, the universe is just doomed…doomed..dooooomed.” Ms Bitters crooned as bugs crawled around her face.

“Ok, am I the only one here who sees the alien sitting in class?” Dib asked as he managed to regain his composure.

The other students looked all around the room while your buried your face in your textbook.

You felt your stomach churn as you knew that Dib would harass you about Zim at lunchtime.

“There!” Dib snapped as he snapped a finger in Zim’s direction. “Right there!”

A horrified expression spread across Zim’s face as pink sweat dripped down his face.

“That is no kid! He’s an alien An alien! One of the monsters I’ve been talking about! He’s here to conquer Earth-”

“Oh not this again. You’re crazy.” Zita huffed as she folded her arms.

“What about his horrible green head?!-”

“INSOLENT FOOL-BOY! It’s a skin condition.” Zim interjected.

“And he’s got no ears! Is that part of your skin condition?! Huh?! No ears?!” Dib whined as he gestured to his own ears.

“Yes.” Zim replied as he somberly looked down at his desk.

“Man, Dib! You think that just because someone looks different you can call them an alien?” one student asked.

“I guess Old Kid is an alien too, huh?” Another added.

“How’s it going?” Old Kid chirped with a wave.

Dib sighed and got up out of his seat.  He scribbled away on the chalkboard before pulling out a metal pointer.

“Ok, this is us,” Dib pointed to a drawing of a naked human man. “And over here, this is Zim!” Dib pointed to a crude drawing of an alien.

“See the difference? Anyone? Anyone? Questions?”

One student raised his hand and grumbled.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with you? All you talk about is seeing aliens and ghosts and seeing bigfoot in your garage.”

“He was using the belt sander. Y/N! Back me up here! I know you can tell the difference!” Dib pleaded as he turned to face you.

Sure enough, everyone’s eyes were on you as you sunk into your seat.

You opened your mouth to speak but Zim spoke first.

“Oh Puh-lease! He’s always saying stuff! I remember that one time Mhm-Hmm.”

“Hey! You just got here!” Dib snapped as he zipped up to Dib’s desk, “Don’t let him trick you! I know what I’m talking about! And there it is. Sitting. Right. There.”

“Well he does look pretty weird.” Said one student.

“Yeah! And he is sitting.” Added another.

“You see? Actual proof that all of the things I’ve been saying are actually right!” A crazed grin spread across Dib’s face as he spoke.

You looked over and saw poor Zim sweating bullets. You knew all too well what it felt like to be humiliated by Dib.

You decided you had to do something. And fast.

“Finally a way to prove that I’m…That I’m..”

“That I’m crazy.” You mumbled from behind your textbook.

“Ok, now that makes sense.” Zita admitted as she sat back down.

“Man, we almost believed him.” Another student added.

Dib let out a growl as he shot Zim a fiery glare. Zim returned the glare in kind and prepared for a fight.

“Doomed…Doomed…Doomed…Ok go to lunch now!” Ms. Bitters commanded.

And with that, everyone flied out of the classroom and headed for the lunchroom.

Next

[antiquecompass]

It’d been close to a year since he’d started dating Aidan. A wonderful year. A year that had brought him more joy than he thought possible. But Christmas and Aidan’s birthday on the 27th were looming at him now, along with that one-year anniversary. He had no clue what to get him for either day and this was one time his sisters couldn’t help him.

So he decided to go to Aidan’s sisters, well, one sister in particular.  

The entire Delaney clan had come to Lenox for Thanksgiving. Wen Ning had survived the weekend solely because Aidan made sure he could easily escape to have time to himself. Wen Ning just needed the alone time to recharge before heading back out to be social. The Delaneys were very loud and very affectionate and, honestly, very welcoming. Too welcoming sometimes which is why Wen Ning had a few moments where the room felt too small and too enclosed. And yet, somehow, Aidan or Aisling or Finn or Una were always there to get him to a quiet, empty space. 

He really did love them. All of them. Even the ones he’d just met for the first time this weekend.

He’d just wished they’d all collectively stopped trying to shove food at him. He didn’t have the heart to refuse any of them and was beyond full. He’d never been so thankful that Wen Qing had come to Aidan’s house and personally made sure he had a Wen Qing approved first aid and medicine cabinet. The economy sized bottle of Tums had become his best friend.

Cate was the sibling closest to Aidan in age. The eldest of ten siblings, her oldest daughter was the same age as Finn. She’d been the first of the non-Lenox Delaneys to meet him and of the grown-siblings was the one he’d grown closest to. Cate was going to be the next head of Delaney Detailing and Repair and she knew more about car specs and how to rebuild an engine block from scrap than anyone he’d ever met. 

She was also Aidan’s best friend, and therefore, the logical place to start.

“No clue what to get him for his birthday, right?” she asked as Wen Ning approached her in the finally cleared-out kitchen.

“And Christmas,” he admitted. 

Cate sighed. “Yeah, Aidan’s one of those. ‘Oh, I don’t need anything! Just get me a gift card! Or make a donation in my name!’ assholes.” She shook her head. “Bullshit, I say. Like, yeah, that’s fine for people like Great Aunt Betty who still thinks we’re teenagers, but it’s different when you’re dating the guy.”

“Yes,” Wen Ning agreed. “And I’ve done the donations, and an entire round of gift cards for the station’s favorite restaurants and for the grocery store for their in-house meals. And, of course, I have a collection of little things I’ve bought over the year. Just tiny things that reminded me of him. I figured I’d give him that for our anniversary, but for the other two. I’m at a loss. He doesn’t like fancy watches because he can’t use them for work and they’ll get ruined. He only wears the one cologne, and everyone gives that to him.”

“Guilty,” Cate admitted.

“He just upgraded the tv for this weekend, so that’s out.”

“And he’d have an actual heart attack if you bought him something so pricey,” Cate said.

“And ties, cuff links, those are out. He never wears them. Your mother and the Trio have him covered on loungewear. He doesn’t play video games because that’s not how he spends his free time. Your father is buying him a new Kindle.”

“Yeah, Pop called dibs on that one,” Cate agreed.

“So the only ideas I’m left with are a new Bruins jersey, the throwback ones that just came out, and a new pair of Jordans because he refuses to buy them for himself even though he stares them down every time we’re near a Footlocker.”

Cate pointed at him with a stalk of celery. “Those are both perfect ideas! There you go! Get them before anyone else can. I’ll update the group chat.”

Wen Ning shook his head. “They’re not special enough,” he said.

Cate patted his shoulder. “Look, you’re never going to out-sentimental Aidan when it comes to gifts. I swear to god, he learned how to do that stupid wood engraving just to shows us all up in the gift-giving department. Everyone thinks he’s this sweet little angel, but he’s got a competitive streak a mile wide when it comes to the family.”

Wen Ning had seen it, in person, during game nights. He quite liked it, if he was being completely honest. Aidan’s eyes shone with the thrill of victory, even over something as small as winning at-home Jeopardy!

“And honestly, Ning, he’s stupidly in love with you. Like, you could give him a friggin’ plate of cookies alone and he’d start sending texts to the entire family about how amazing and talented you are. He’ll love anything you give him, so no pressure. Really. He’d hate to think you’re agonizing over it.”

They were kind words, especially from Cate who rivaled his own sister at No Bullshit, but he still couldn’t help but worry. 

“Seriously, you could give him a coupon for Free Hugs and he’d kiss you and thank you and insist the coupon never expired. You. Have. Got. This.”

**********

Wen Ning didn’t like driving the Expedition. It was just <i>too</i> big, but it was the only vehicle that could easily and safely transport the Trio between Aidan, his cousin Chris, and Wen Ning. And it did have the rearview camera, which helped, along with Wen Ning’s supportive group of backseat drivers. 

They all wanted to go shopping for presents, and since Aidan had taken the weekend day shifts, Wen Ning had offered to take the Trio. 

“So, when are you moving in?” Una asked.

“Una, not while he’s driving,” Finn said. “Do you want us all to die?”

“What?” she asked. “He’s always at our house anyway.”

“Yeah, because of us, dumbass,” Finn said.

“Don’t call your sister that,” Wen Ning said, looking at them in the rearview mirror.

“Sorry,” Finn muttered.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” Wen Ning said.

Finn rolled his eyes, but he still turned to Una. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” Una said. “My point stands.”

Aisling remained quiet, but she met his eyes in the rearview mirror and shrugged.

“It’s a little soon,” Wen Ning said. “Maybe if we’re still together in a few years, we’ll talk about it.”

“If?” Aisling asked.

“Years?” Finn followed.

“It’s not something to take lightly,” he explained as he headed towards the mall. “Especially in our situation. We’d need to find a bigger house. We’d need to find a place that allowed cats and hamsters, if we decide to rent instead of own. I need somewhere with a big enough yard or basement for practice. And then there’s all the financial stuff. Rents or mortgages and utilities. Not to mention discussions such as what furniture you keep, give away, or buy.” He gave them a sad smile. “It’s not very romantic, I know.”

“Don’t you love Aidan?” Una asked.

That was enough to make him pull over to the side of the road, put it in park, and turn around to stare at the three of them.

“Of course I do,” he said. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love your brother, but we both have other obligations and not unending sources of wealth like the Lans or the Jiangs. We have to be a little more cautious.”

Wen Ning didn’t say that he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop for months. That he was waiting for Aidan to decided that hey, maybe a former pro-athlete and current gym teacher--a Wen--wasn’t the best place to lay his love and affection. 

He also knew if Aidan ever found out he was thinking that he’d see either one or all of the three faces of Aidan he couldn’t stomach: 1) rare anger 2) disappointment and 3) heartbreakingly sad.

But they hadn’t talked about the future, not in any great detail. They hadn’t talked about the reality of combining their lives, even if they were already so intertwined. And Wen Ning really didn’t want to have that conversation via proxy of the Trio. 

“Whenever you decide it’s time, you have our approval,” Aisling said.

“Totally,” Finn agreed.

“And our support,” Una said.

“Thanks, kiddos,” he said. “That means a lot.”

**********

Find your stance. Relax your grip. Notch the arrow. Place your fingers. Draw. Aim. Release. Over and over and over again. Some people had meditation. Some had yoga. Wen Ning had archery. 

The reason he’d invested in this house was because of the large basement, long enough and wide enough for a small in-home range. When he’d bought it, he had no real future in mind. It was just him then. He didn’t even have Mr. Tumnus.

Stance. Grip. Notch. Place. Draw. Aim. Release. Repeat. 

He had a vision of a future now. A husband. Kids. A place for Chris to work on his art. Guest rooms for their family. A backyard range. No dogs, of course. Maybe more cats. Maybe something else like a ferret. 

Stance. Grip. Notch. Place. Draw. Aim. Release. Repeat.

Aidan. His vision for that future was Aidan.

“Hold your fire, Hawkeye.”

Wen Ning dropped his stance. Aidan?

“Aidan?” he said, turning around in surprise.

Aidan grinned at him, still in his uniform.

“The Trio?” he asked.

Aidan shrugged. “Ma’s staying in town a few extra days. So, mind if I crash here for a bit?”

Wen Ning carefully placed his bow and arrow to the side then bound over to Aidan who laughed and caught him.

It was so rare for them to have time completely to themselves.

“I’m taking this as a yes,” Aidan said.

“Mmmhnn,” Wen Ning hummed into his mouth.

Aidan laughed, carefully walking them over to the old, battered couch.

“So, what’s this I hear about if we’re still together in a few years?”

Wen Ning buried his head in the safe space between Aidan’s neck and shoulder.

“Sweetheart,” Aidan said in his distinctive Southie accent. “You get this deer in the headlights look when I try to talk about the future, so I didn’t want to spook you. But I’m here. For you. For it all. Okay? River deep, mountain high, remember?”

“I remember,” Wen Ning said, Those words and that song, the first time Aidan told him he loved him. “It’s still too soon.”

“I know you think that and I respect it,” Aidan said. “So you take your time. I’ll still be right here. Right next to you.”

“You only have a binder full of listings, don’t you?” Wen Ning asked.

“You can’t prove nothing,” Aidan said. 

[snappedsky]

Fanatics 71

The kids return to Skool, and it's an eventful first day back. Previous! Next!

--

New Year, Same Sh!t

           “I cannot believe you all went to Irk without me!”

           Zim, Dib, Gaz, Pepito, and Squee glare exhaustedly at Kat- Tak’s human disguise- as she blocks the entrance to the Skool. She glares right back, much more angrily.

           “Give us a break, Tak,” Zim snaps as he shoves past her. “We’ve barely been home for a week and now we gotta go back to Skool.”            “You didn’t even tell me you were leaving!” she barks as she follows them through the busy halls. “I only found out because of Maddie. I thought we were, you know, friends.”

           “You’re right,” Squee says, “we are friends. And we should’ve at least said goodbye. We’re sorry.”

           Kat’s glare withers ever so slightly and she huffs. “Fine. So, what’s got you all so tense?”

           “A week ago we found out the Irken Empire sent assassins after us,” Dib replies, “we had no idea. If it wasn’t for Squee’s Night Terrors, they probably would’ve wiped us all out.”            “Are they Irken Bounty Hunters?” Kat asks.

           “I don’t think so,” Zim replies, “according to the Night Terrors, they were too easy to kill. Probably just academy-trained assassins.”

           “Kio’s looking into it,” Squee explains, “but we’re not sure how to handle this. Obviously we can’t just let assassins try to kill us, which is why the Night Terrors are keeping watch. But soon the Tallest will figure out the assassins failed and send stronger opponents.”

           “Well, you should’ve expected this,” Kat points out, “starting a war with the Irken Empire.”            “We saved them first,” Gaz argues, “it’s not our fault they’re sore losers.”            “And now we have to go to Skool like nothing happened,” Pepito groans.

           “Keep your heads up, team,” Zim orders, “we’re back to our normal life and we will not let the Armada ruin it.”            The others reply with uncertainty.

           “I’ll see you guys at lunch,” Gaz grunts before splitting off. The others go upstairs to their lockers.

           After everyone’s gathered their stuff, they head to homeroom at the sound of the bell. Zim and the others cluster together in desks near the window, along with Maddie. The other students quickly pick their desks as their teacher, Miss Sweeties, stands at the front of the room.

           “Welcome back to Skool, everyone,” she chimes, “and a very special welcome back to Zim, Dib, Pepito, and Squee, who, due to ‘family issues’, were unable to attend Skool last year.”

         “You guys completely skipped 11th grade,” Zita points out, “how did you not get held back?”            “Um my guardian has a…‘rapport’ with the principle,” Squee replies while Zim, Dib, and Pepito chuckle knowingly.          

            After morning announcements are played over the intercom, the students leave for their classes. Maddie and Tak wave to the boys as they split off.

           “It’s too bad we got stuck in the lower tier classes,” Dib comments, “it’ll be a smear on my record.”            “Yeah, but at least we’re all in the same classes this year,” Pepito points out.

          They arrive at their classroom and quickly pick their desks, again together near the windows. Standing behind the teacher’s desk is a younger man, pale and blond with fidgeting hands. He waits until everyone’s seated before speaking.

           “G-good morning, students,” he says in a cracking voice. “I-I am your teacher, Mr. Tense. I will be teaching you maths and sciences.”            “Who is this guy?” Pepito whispers.

           “Don’t know. I’ve never had him,” Dib replies.

           “B-because we’ll be spending a-a lot of time together, I’d like to start off by going around the room and h-hearing something about everyone,” Mr. Tense declares.

           “Oh, god,” Squee groans, rubbing his forehead.

           “We’ll start on this side of the room,” he says, pointing at Zim. “Please stand up and state your name and-and a fact about yourself.”

           Zim stands up dutifully. “I am Zim and I will rule you all! But don’t worry, I’ll be a benevolent leader.”

           “Uh o-okay, thank you, Zim,” Mr. Tense says as Zim sits back down and Pepito stands up.

           “I’m Pepito, and I’m gonna be a rock star,” he says.

           “Oh, a musician!” Mr. Tense smiles, “how nice.”

           Pepito smiles as he sits down and the student behind him goes next, a cheerleader who goes on for a few minutes about how she loves manicures. As they continue down the row, Squee digs his hand into his forehead, dreading his turn.

           Finally it’s the next row’s turn, and Dib starts off. “I’m Dib, the world’s greatest paranormal investigator.”

           “And crazy person,” one of the students whispers loudly and the others giggle. But Dib ignores them as he sits back down, smiling proudly.

           Squee stifles a heavy sigh as he stands up, squeezing Shmee inside his bag. ��Uh I-I’m Squee a-and-.”

           “What kind of a name is that?” another student sneers.

           Squee takes a deep breath before continuing. “And I like to write.”

           As he sits back down, Pepito shoots him a thumbs-up and he smiles gratefully.

           The introductions continue throughout the classroom. A couple of students Zim and the others already know, like Willy, Poonchy, Carl, or Jessica; but many they’ve never met before. Not that anyone pays close attention to the introductions anyway.

            Once everyone’s finished, Mr. Tense clears his throat. “I-it is wonderful to meet you all. I hope this will be a prosperous last year of High Skool for you all. Now then, let’s just dive right into math. Open you textbooks, please.”

           The next hour is spent learning math. Mr. Tense is very non-inclusive and only reads the lesson directly from the textbook very stiltedly, or writes on the board. Which means the students are free to pay no attention.

           Zim scrolls through his phone- which now, thanks to Kio, is connected to galactic wide news- and tries to find news on assassins coming to Earth. Dib is busy reading one of his new books on the supernatural; he missed out on a lot being in space. Determined to make original songs this year, Pepito is trying to write song lyrics. And Squee just stares through the window, somewhat absentmindedly, but his eyes still scan for the slightest threat.

           Everyone is quite surprised when a hole is smashed through the ceiling and Mr. Fuck, with smeared make-up, torn clothes, and gashes and cuts, slams into the floor at the front of the classroom.

           Screaming, the students all leap out of the desks while Mr. Tense nearly jumps out of his skin.

           “Eff!” Squee exclaims.

           Eff coughs as he sits up, dry wall dust and debris still falling around him. He glances at Squee and smiles and waves.

           “Oh, hey, Little Boss. Don’t worry, the situation is completely under contro-.” He stops as he reaches for his hat and realizes it’s not there. “That asshole has my hat!”            With that, he jumps up and disappears back through the hole onto the roof.

           “O-okay,” Mr. Tense stammers, “do-don’t worry, kids. J-just exit into the hallway in an orderly fashion.”            Nobody listens to him as the students race out of the classroom, except for Zim, Dib, Pepito, and Squee who look up through the hole.

           “K-kids, we all need to leave,” Mr. Tense says to them and waves towards the door, but they ignore them.

           They can hear shouting: the Night Terrors cursing and voices speaking in Irken. They spot an Irken fly past the hole and Reverend Meat leap after them.

           “Assassins?” Pepito questions.

           “No,” Zim growls, immediately recognizing the unique armor the Irken was wearing. “Irken Bounty Hunters.”            “They’re gonna need help,” he declares, “Irken Bounty Hunters are specially trained killers and they always travel in groups. Do you all have your weapons?”

           “Yes,” Squee nods as he draws his knives from his bag, along with Shmee.

           “Me too,” Dib replies, rolling down the sleeve of his coat to reveal his bracelet.

           “Got my weapons right here,” Pepito says as he clenches his fists and they start glowing black.

           “Good,” Zim grunts as he extends his spider legs and grabs his laser guns.

           “You guys go on ahead,” Dib says, “I’m gonna check on Gaz. We’ll catch up.”            “Alright,” Zim nods as two of his spider legs reach up for the hole while Squee and Pepito grab the other two.

           “Uhm,” Mr. Tense croaks, speechless as they disappear through the hole and Dib races past him into the hall.

           The rooftop is a warzone. The Night Terrors are covered in injures and torn clothes but continue to hold their own against the seemingly five unstoppable Irkens. Their heavy armor has been cracked and damaged and their laser rifles are scattered in pieces. But they still have their PAKs and with their sharp spider leg appendages swinging around, the Night Terrors can’t get close.

           “Pick a target,” Zim orders.

           “I’ll help Eff,” Squee declares as he races off to help the Doughboy wrestling to keep a spider leg from impaling him.

           “I’ll get Sickness,” Pepito says and hurries to her as she dodges an Irken’s striking attacks.

           Zim spots Reverend Meat, struggling to hold off two Irkens. He grins and leaps forward on his spider legs, flying right for one of them. “Mine!”

           Back in the Skool, none of the other classes are aware of the danger yet. Ms. Bitters is still busy teaching Gaz’s class history. She barely pays attention, doodling in the margins of her notebook.

           The classroom slams open, startling everyone, and Dib races in. “Gaz!”            “Dib?” she questions.

           “Oh, fer-,” Ms. Bitters scoffs, “I thought not having you as a student meant I wouldn’t have to deal with your interruptions.”            Dib ignores her as he hurries to Gaz’s desk. “You okay?”

           “Yeah,” she replies incredulously. “What’s going on-?”            Before he can answer, Psycho Doughboy slams into the window outside, crying out as he falls to the ground.

           All the students scream with surprise as they leap out of their desks, except for Dib and Gaz who just stare outside.

           “You got your hammer?” Dib asks.

           “No, but I have a bat in my locker,” Gaz replies.

           “Get it,” he orders, “and meet us outside.”

           Without another word, Gaz races off while Dib opens the window and climbs out. He lands beside D-boy just as he’s starting to sit up, rubbing his face, and they both look up.

           An Irken leaps off the roof and plummets towards them, spider legs pointed down. Dib activates his bracelet, transforming it to his power glove, and readies a blast.

           Meanwhile, as Gaz races to her locker, an announcement plays over the intercom.

           “Attention, the Skool is under a state of emergency. Please evacuate to the street in a calm and orderly fashion.”            In the other grade 12 classroom, Kat perks up while her classmates chatter curiously amongst themselves.

           “Wonder what’s going on,” Maddie mutters as the teacher starts ushering everyone out. Kat ignores them and looks outside, activating her cybernetic eye. Immediately seeing the presence of five unknown Irkens, she growls.

           The tide of battle really turns thanks to the Battalion. The Irken Bounty Hunters are now outnumbered, having to split their attention between one of the Night Terrors and one of the kids. But they still hold their own despite the odds, really showing their Irken strength and ingenuity.

           Squee, Eff, and Shmee surround an Irken, his spider legs raised defensively. Squee goes in first with his rocket wheelies. As soon as he’s disappeared from sight, Eff and Shmee charge in.

           The Irken blocks them with his spider legs while a buzz saw like weapon pops out of his PAK, protecting his head as he correctly predicts that Squee would strike from behind. He stops just before he can connect with the spinning blade but rebounds quickly, ducking down and knocking his leg into the Irken’s ankle, tripping him.

           The Irken reacts quickly, blocking his head from hitting the roof and thrusting a spider leg at Squee. He dodges with ease by zipping around to his other end and charging in, knives up. Scowling, the Irken jabs all four of his spider legs towards him. Squee waits until the very last second before speeding backwards out of harm’s way, while Eff appears by the Irken’s head and swinging knives of his own.

           Gasping, the Irken barely catches Eff’s hands with his own, keeping the blades inches from his face. Eff smirks and the Irken realizes he’s been duped as Shmee leaps off Eff’s head and pile drives the Irken’s stomach, smashing him through the roof.

           Squee and Eff peek through the hole just as Shmee jumps back out, tossing the unconscious alien at Squee’s feet. They all smile victoriously at each other.

         Meanwhile, another Irken is struggling to survive against Sickness and Pepito. She can’t match Sickness’s speed, so she keeps her spider legs close, not allowing her to strike. But she doesn’t even have time to focus on Sickness as she tries to dodge Pepito’s blasts.

           He fires relentlessly, barely giving her time to think and move. Because of her agility, each one only grazes her, but one slip up and he’ll reduce her to dust.

           She growls, getting sick of this, and withdraws her spider legs. But before her opponents can react, a small of pair of rocket thrusters extend from the bottom of her PAK and she blasts into the sky. Once she’s a few feet high, two of her spider legs extend again and she points them down, preparing to fire lasers.

           Pepito smirks and his wings expand from his back, bursting through his shirt. Before the bounty hunter can fire her lasers, he flies up to her, hands glowing black. She ceases her laser power-up and instead uses her spider legs to block him. Locked in a parry, they glare at each other.

           Sickness watches them for a second before crouching, tensing her leg muscles, and jumping into the air, cracking the ground beneath her. She flies up behind the Irken, who is unable to react, held in place by Pepito. Sickness lifts her leg and slams it onto the Irken’s head, sending her plummeting back down and through the roof of the Skool.

           Pepito and Sickness land on either side of the hole and look in. The Irken is blacked out unceremoniously on top of some desks. Smirking, Pepito shoots Sickness a thumbs-up, and she good-naturedly rolls her eyes.

           On the ground, Dib and D-boy are having trouble getting a hit in against their opponent. The bounty hunter keeps them at bay with his spider legs while also dodging the blasts from Dib’s power glove.

           The Irken lunges his spider legs at them, two for each. D-boy blocks his two with his giant mallet while Dib catches one with his glove and barely dodges the other; he winces as it slices a bit through his side.

           The Irken tries to retract his appendages but Dib keeps good grip on one as he charges a blast. He destroys the spider leg and the bounty hunter stumbles back in pain. Scowling angrily, he lunges his last three right for Dib, who lifts his arms in a feeble attempt to block.

           D-boy flips in and smashes the legs out of the way with his mallet. The Irken goes in for another attack when his antennae twitch and he looks back just in time to see Gaz swinging her bat. He leaps out of the way and she smashes the ground where he was standing.

           Snarling, the Irken lunges his spider legs at her. Again, D-boy flips in and helps Gaz block them. Before the bounty hunter can retract them, his antennae twitch again and he looks over to see Dib charging up a blast.

           The Irken tries to retreat but finds himself stuck in place. He looks in despair at D-boy as he smirks and holds tight to his spider legs.

           Dib fires his blast, reducing the Irken to dust and leaving behind nothing but his lifeless spider legs. D-boy lets them drop to the ground while Dib lowers his hand, sighing with relief.

           Back on the roof, Zim and Reverend Meat have their hands full with the last two Irken Bounty Hunters. They stand back to back, repelling their opponents’ attacks with barely any chance to throw their own.

           Zim’s spider legs repeatedly clash with the other Irken’s. Zim lifts his laser guns and fires at her. She leaps backwards, dodging the lasers and fires some of her own from her spider legs. Zim creates a force field with his, blocking them.

           Behind him, Reverend Meat can’t get close to his Irken opponent. He keeps his spider legs close and fires lasers to keep the monstrously strong meat reverend at bay. Reverend Meat is forced to stay on the defensive and dodge, lest he get filled with laser holes.

           He spots Zim with his force field and gets an idea. Keeping his eye on his opponent, he reaches around and grabs Zim’s head, picking him. Zim exclaims with shock as Reverend Meat holds him out, using him like a shield.

           “He-what are yo-release Zim immediately!” he snaps.

           “Just roll with it,” Reverend Meat orders, “and keep your shield up.”            Zim does so and blocks laser blasts from both Irkens. With his other hand, Reverend Meat smashes another hole into the roof and breaks off a large chunk, throwing it at the bounty hunters. The Irkens are taken aback but easily blow the chunk to pieces, only to find Reverend Meat and Zim have disappeared.

           They immediately look at the new hole in the roof and begin firing their lasers downwards. Then their antennae twitch just as Zim and Reverend Meat smash through the roof, jumping up right behind them.

           Reverend Meat grabs the Irkens’ PAKs, smirking as he crushes them to pieces with his large hands. They both shudder and collapse to the ground on their knees. Zim grins as they look back and lifts his laser guns to finish them off, but freezes when he spots one of Irken’s removing her glove. He immediately recognizes the device on her wrist and flinches back.

           “She’s gonna self-destruct!” he shouts.

           “What!” Reverend Meat exclaims.

           But before she can activate the device, a plasma beam fires from the side through her arm, completely destroying the bomb. Everyone looks to the left as two more beams are fired through the bounty hunters’ heads, and Tak approaches, lowering her cyborg arm.

           “I didn’t need your help y’know,” Zim grunts.

           “Yeah, yeah,” she sniffs.

           Everyone finishes their fights around the same time and look around to check on the others. As D-boy leaps back onto the roof with Dib and Gaz, they quickly realize they’ve won and smile victoriously.

           “Oh, hey, Tak,” Pepito says as they gather together. “Where’d you come from?”

           “I’m not gonna let you leave me out of the fun again,” she replies.

           “Hey, check it out,” Squee says, pointing to the main road. All of the students and teachers are gathered there as a couple police cars arrive. The kids settle on the edge of the building and watch as the police attempt to interview the rattled and excited students. Nobody’s noticed them on the roof yet.

           “Well, the Skool was evacuated and we caused a lot of property damage,” Dib summarizes, “and it’s not even lunch yet.”

           “Yup. Not bad for our first day back,” Pepito comments.

           “If this is an omen to how the rest of the year is gonna be, I might just drop out,” Squee grunts, resting his chin in his hand.

           “We will not be defeated,” Zim declares, “no matter how many assassins come after us, or whatever else, this year will not beat us.”

           The Night Terrors sigh comfortably as they sit in between the kids.

           “Besides, you got us,” Eff smirks, patting Squee’s head.

           “Yeah, aren’t you lucky,” Reverend Meat sighs and leans against a grumbling Zim.

           “And me,” Tak adds, “whether you like it or not.”

           “I hate to say it, but…we can use all the help we can get,” Dib says.

           “Uh oh,” Gaz grunts, “we better move. I think one of the cops spotted us.”            “Yup,” Pepito agrees as they retreat farther onto the roof. “Wanna just ditch for the rest of the day?”

           “Yeah, let’s go to my house,” Zim declares.

           With the help of the Night Terrors, the two groups jump off the Skool and disappear through the back field, never to be found by their classmates or teachers until they return for classes the next day.

[chillihansol]

His treat ; V E R N O N

[ jealous!hansol x reader ]

word count: 1003 genre: angst & fluff a/n: okay i suck at making endings but im also freaking out right now bc this is my first work for hvc aka vernon HAHAHA sorry i had to put it. thank you anon for requesting this! i decided to put a lil angst bc im a sucker for those so please feel free to req some angst in the future!!! hope y’all like it

53: “My shirt looks better on you.” 67: “Well, that hurts.”

Pulling the over sized shirt over my head, I sighed as I realize how big it looks on me. I looked at myself in front of the full-length mirror. The sleeves of his shirt hung loosely around my forearm, and the ends covered almost half of my thigh. Attempting to make it look cute on me, I tried tucking it in my jeans but it still looked awful so I grunted and just let it flow like a dress. I was having a coffee with Jun when Minghao poked his side which made him spill his cold coffee on my shirt,

“I’m not having coffee with you anymore.” I stated as I stepped out of the room, threatening Jun who was sitting on the couch with the rest of the boys.

He looked at me from his phone and immediately grinned when he saw my appearance. “You look cute? What’s the problem with that?” He said trying not to smirk. “Actually, my shirt looks better on you.”

I sighed, shaking my head and making my way towards Jun. I sat on his lap, knowing that there’s no space left for me. 

“Well, that hurts.” Hansol, who was on the other side of another couch mumbled. Seungkwan nugged him with his elbow. All heads turned to him.

“What was that, Hansol?” Jun asked from behind me, drawing circles on my back.

“I said I am hungry, hyung.” He replied bluntly, looking pass at me.

“Me too. Should we go out to eat something? My treat.” Seungcheol smiled widely.

The boys cheered and some of them started to make their way towards the door. I looked at Hansol who was the last one to stand up besides Jun and I. When everyone was gone, I felt Jun rest his chin on my shoulder.

“It’s working, isn’t it?” He whispered.

“Do we really have to make him feel jealous?” I shifted from my position to face him. 

“That boy will do nothing unless you provoke him.” He replied, smirking. “And we have a consent with this. Coups hyung said it was fine because he knows that it will make Hansol start a move. In the end, both of you are going to thank me anyways.”

“But does it have to be with you? You’re not that good looking. Hansol would not be jealous because I’m ‘flirting’ with you.” I said, quoting the word with my fingers.

“Excuse me? I’m like the actual visu–”

“Yah, the two of you, are you going to neglect my offer and just continue to flirt there or what?” Seungcheol called.

“Coming,” I called back lazily before standing up. Jun did the same. He hung his arm around my shoulders, as we walked out of the door.

We came to the nearest fast food chain and ate. As promised, Seungcheol payed for the bill and he immediately received love from his members. We were already done eating and I excused myself to go to the restroom.

“I can’t believe I went out with his shirt on.” I said to myself as I made my way back to the boys.

I noticed that more than half of the group was gone, leaving Jun, Wonwoo, Hansol, Seungkwan, and Seungcheol. Also known as the people behind this making Hansol jealous to confess to me, besides Hansol himself of course, and Seungkwan.

“Dibs!” Jun exclaimed, grinning when he saw me approaching.

“Shut up, Jun.” I muttered, sitting beside him. “Where are the others?” 

“Dokyeom started teasing Jeonghan to treat them ice cream with the others which made him lose.” Wonwoo laughed, resting his arms on the table. 

“Alright,” Seungcheol sighed loudly, leaning on the table, almost copying Wonwoo. “Hansol,” He called.

“Yeah?” He replied from a distance. He was sitting next to Wonwoo, who was sitting across Jun.

“Just so you know, all of us heard what you said earlier. What hurts?” Seungcheol said which made Hansol turn his gaze to me.

His mouth opened, no words coming out. 

“You can tell us, even if Y/N’s here.” Wonwoo reassured. 

“It’s uhh,” He trailed off, hesitating whether to say it or not. “Jun hyung…”

Knowing Hansol, there’s no way he’s going to say it directly right now. Why do I like this boy again? Right, only I can answer it. And no matter what we do, I will always end up making the first move around him.

“I don’t like this boy beside me.” I said, which made everyone look at me. “And he doesn’t have dibs on me.” I glared at Jun from the side. “Apparently, the boy I l like is actually sitting in front of me.” I smiled at Hansol.

His eyes opened widely. Seungkwan who was sitting on his other side gasped as well. 

“But earlier..” He trailed off.

“This was a plan. We know you’re never going to confess. So these two made you jealous, but wow, I realized this was nonsense because in the end, Y/N wouldn’t handle it and just decided to blurt out the feelings.” Seungcheol explained. “You’re not mad at us, right? You’re not that kind of person.”

“No hyung, I’m not mad.” Hansol replied, still hasn’t recovered from my confession.

“Now, she’s all yours. Before I actually steal her from you.” Jun grinned, standing up with the rest of the boys except for Hansol. He turned to me before leaving, ��Thank me later, and give back my shirt. It doesn’t really look cute on you.” He said which made the boys laugh.

I looked back at Hansol who was already looking at me. I gave him a smile before propping my chin on my palm.

“Should I get you ice cream too? My treat.” He asked shyly from his seat.

“Gosh, you are so cute.” I giggled.