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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA 6th Popularity Poll Reaction Post - Risky Spoiler-Dodging Edition

hey guys, so seeing as the results from the 6th popularity poll were leaked today, I figured I would do a separate reaction + analysis post this year, rather than piling it in as an extra on top of the chapter reaction post tomorrow. I figure this makes more sense anyway, since they’re really two completely different things. also this way I can write as much as I want lol.

also, just fyi, I am still completely unspoiled for chapter 293. and probably the smart thing to do to keep it that way would be to log off tumblr and hold off posting this until tomorrow, but I apparently have no impulse control today so oh well. anyway, so I’m hoping you guys will keep this spoiler-free if you don’t mind! as always, I would prefer to just jump right in completely unaware tomorrow like Troy returning to the study room with the pizza boxes lol.

okay so this first part is just going to be my predictions. fyi I am writing this part on Wednesday night, and then I’ll add on the results part on Thursday or Friday (ETA: Thursday, apparently, since I am impatient.)

okay so first of all, just as a refresher, this poll was open to Japanese voters from Aug 3 to Sep 30. meaning chapters 279 through 285. meanwhile last year’s poll took place around the tail end of the MVA arc. so between then and now we had Heroes Rising, the Endeavor Agency arc, and the War arc up to the part where the 1-A kids took on Gigantomachia in Gunga, and started battling Tomura in Jakku. so technically only a couple of arcs, but a LOT of stuff going down in them. oh and season 4 of the anime as well

so! firstly, I predict that my truculent africanized honeybee son will hold on to his crown at #1, coming off a year in which he did some internship-boosted soul searching, borrowed OFA in movie canon, and finished out the voting period as the my-body-moved-on-its-own character development MVP. like CALL ME CRAZY lol, but I’m pretty sure his title is safe. and then after him will be Deku and Shouto as usual

Aizawa should hopefully also have a strong showing because the dude had a banner fucking year. reunited with his old dead friend, took on Tomura with his hopelessly inept hero pals, and then chopped his fucking leg off. he had better be in the top 10. his fucking leg died for this, idk what else he has to do

Endeavor also stands a decent chance of doing well given the internship arc and the final episode of season 4. which I’m sure will go down just swimmingly if that does happen lmao. especially if he somehow manages to rank higher than...

Dabi, which I don’t think he will btw, but you never know. anyways though, but I’m thinking Dabi’s going to have a stronger showing than in past years (in the last poll he only got 367 votes and was ranked 19th). mostly because of his fight in the Gunga mansion, and his cheekily censored name reveal to...

Hawks, who is also going to rank pretty high here, I think. might be he loses some points for killing off Twice, but his back was basically to the wall there. and he has always been very popular, and I think season 4 will also give him a boost, along with his heavy involvement in the first half of the War arc

Tomura was already in 6th place last year and I think he cracks the top 5 this year. he’s gotten exponentially more popular since the MVA arc, and got a boost in the last poll even though his flashback had only just barely happened, and he hadn’t finished Awakening yet and all that stuff. anyway, so he’s only gotten cooler and more tragic since then so I think he makes a big play here

Kirishima, Momo, Tokoyami, and Mina should also hopefully do well, since the poll opened right in the middle of all that Gigantomachia action, and Toko had just got done being an absolute badass and protecting his birb dad. I don’t think he’ll quite make it to the top ten, but he should

and last but not least, I’m hoping that Mirko will come out and take the polls by storm, although I have no clue how popular she is in Japan lol. she’s clearly Horikoshi’s favorite though. she SHOULD be everyone’s favorite, but I mean, we’ll see how it goes

anyway that’s it as far as predictions! and so now, through the magic of writing stuff at different times, we will fast-forward to the part where we actually find out the results!

OH MY GOD YES, STEAMPUNK KHLKSLLKL. HERE FOR IT. JOLLY GOOD SHOW. 5 STARS

Kacchan looks SO COCKY and SO HAPPY and SO ADORABLE, YES I SAID IT. he is adorable as FUCK. I don’t quite know what it is about this particular Kacchan that just screams “LOOK HOW FUCKING CUTE MY STUPID, LOUD SON IS WITH HIS BIZARRE WINDOWPANE-LOOKING CONVERTIBLE SUNGLASS GOGGLES and his POORLY TIED CRAVAT”, but I think it’s because he looks like if a Digimon character and a FMA character had a baby

anyway, so it looks like most of the people present here are more or less who we expected to see. except that I can’t tell for sure if that’s Dabi or Shindou, and if it’s Shindou I’m going to punch somebody in the face so you will have to excuse me

Iida wearing a TRENCHCOAT and a TOP HAT with ENGINE EXHAUST GOGGLE ACCENTS is my new favorite Iida of all time. take note how there is no possible way he can wear those goggles with them sitting on top of his hat like that. plus he’s already got glasses on. these are just purely for aesthetic and IF THAT AIN’T JUST THE STEAMPUNK WAY

Deku out here speaking softly and carrying a lead pipe. Kacchan you best look out. seems like he’s done watching you take first place year after year while he languishes in the number two spot. your only hope is that he trips while attacking you because his boots are unbuckled

Shouto’s standing over there with the rest of the non-first-and-second-place characters, but what are the odds his results are actually within spitting distance of Deku’s same as always. anyway he doesn’t mind, though. also his outfit is by far the most sensible one here, but if you look closely he’s got some sort of fire extinguisher/jet pack thing strapped to his back that’s got a control switch on his belt. Shouto are you jetpacking or putting out fires

Kirishima out here all “I’m not sure what steampunk is so I’m just going to take off my shirt and pose”

AIZAWA WITH THE EYEPATCH SKLKSDLKFJLSKJLDFKJSLDFFJLDKSJFL:KS. SIR. SIR. also, lowkey furious that Horikoshi refuses to show us the automail leg that he is clearly sporting here but which we just can’t see, SHOUTO MOVE GODDAMMIT

Endeavor has TWO fire extinguisher-slash-jetpacks. THE BETTER TO... WHATEVER. look at you here in the top ten again. you really live for that controversy

HAWKS OUT HERE WITH HIS STEAMPUNK BEATS BY DRE AND HIS WEARING A RING ON EVERY FINGER. nice to see you’ve still got your wings there, kiddo. then again Deku still has both of his arms too so who even knows what is going on

BUT SERIOUSLY THOUGH, IS THIS DABI OR SHINDOU. as if I don’t know the truth deep down in my heart. y’all I am gonna flip lmao. it’s not that I dislike Shindou, strictly speaking. but just... I can’t explain what it is, but if you put him and AFO next to each other and told me “you can only punch one”, I would be having a serious crisis. just, THIS FUCKING GUY, idek. STOP SMILING

Tomura looks like he just wandered onto the set here by mistake and has no idea where he is or what is going on. it’s because you’re wearing a bigass severed hand that’s blocking your entire view, Tomura. just take the hand off your face my sweet murder dumpling

anyway! so I managed to also find a link to the full poll results while somehow managing to avoid spoilers, and then I wanted to compare the results to last year’s poll, and so I made... this

hopefully you can all see this. if you’re on desktop you might be screwed, but on mobile you should be able to click and enlarge it. I mean, assuming you actually give a fuck about boring poll analysis spreadsheets lmao

anyway, so there were actually 13k fewer votes cast this year which is a bit of a surprise. is the series not still growing in popularity? do people apparently have better things to do during their quarantine lol

anyways but despite this, and despite getting 8k fewer votes overall, Kacchan still managed almost twice as many as his closest competitor. well fought, Deku. please put down that pipe

I somehow always underestimate the power of ship popularity to influence these things. but for example, it looks like Present Mic got that Vigilantes Trio bump. ride that wave for all it’s worth my man! hell, you got me on board

Iida fucking Tenya somehow got some sort of POWER BOOST out of NOWHERE which I can’t explain at all lmao, but I’m here for it. NOT BAD FOR AN OLD MAN

Sero managed to get the exact same number of votes in both 2019 and 2020. clearly the most loyal fans in the business

Mirko being all the way down at #20 is, of course, a travesty, and I hereby nominate her to be the one to punch Shindou in the face

ngl though, the lack of a single female character in the top ten hurts just a bit. it’s not overly surprising, but still. the worst part of it is that even if you kicked Shindou to the curb and moved everyone else up one slot, it would still be all dudes since Mic beat out Momo by a margin of a little more than a hundred votes. hard to stay mad at Mic for too long, though. ah well

Tomura actually lost a bunch of votes which is a genuine surprise to me. I know the villain standom isn’t as dominant in Japan as it is in Western fandom, but still. you can go ahead and punch Shindou too I guess

Tokoyami lowkey doubled his vote count over the past year while hiding down there at #18. he is slowly becoming more powerful. biding his time

anyway so I think that’s it! I mean not really, but I’m getting kind of tired lol. so just, you know, insert the usual gripes at Overhaul’s ranking here, although we can be happy about Magne making her way onto the list (r.i.p.), and Mineta and AFO taking a very satisfying slide down (all the way out, in AFO’s case; good riddance you bum). Hadou also got a huge boost which is awesome. Mustard’s persistent ownership of the #36 spot will forever remain a mystery to me, but oh well

anyways, this was fun. and I really do feel like everyone is looking away on purpose so that when Deku brains Kacchan with that pipe in about two seconds from now, there will be no witnesses, oh my fucking god

#bnha 293 #bnha popularity poll #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #aizawa shouta #shigaraki tomura #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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elsewhereuniversity · 4 years ago

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About Face

“Do you have any questions about your prescriptions today, uh…m-miss?” The pharmacist’s question is laced with assumptions about who you are. It’s not great, of course, but it’s also not worth your time to fight about today.

“No, I’m good,” your smile and voice are sugary-sweet, but your eyes are daggers as you take the bag and turn back towards the door. The heat and humidity are already staggering at 8 am and you are immediately made sticky by the brief walk to your car. As you start it up, there’s a brief chime of email-receiving from your phone, but you ignore it. Then there’s another ding, this time your lab-mate, Valerie, texting you.

Hey, u almost in? In like 30min. had to stop by pharmacy

K. Jill was looking for u. Also ugh that paper for tomorrow, I’m not even a birdsong person lol

Lol get over it, I had to read one of your fancy neuro papers last time. Did jill say what she needed me for?

Whatever lol. She didn’t say.

Ughhhhhhh

Jill, Dr. Dominguez, is your advisor, and you know you need to get her some figures and sections of your thesis soon, but these damn stats…well. There’s a reason you prefer spending your time traipsing off-trail through the wilderness over sitting in front of a computer all day. Not that this part isn’t interesting and important too, but come on.

Traffic is moving at a sluggish pace, of course, so you’re lost in contemplation and dread of the analyses you need to attempt running today, and the inevitable conversation with Dr. Dominguez that will have to happen at some point. As the traffic finally begins to move, you grit your teeth. Maybe it’s time to consider actually asking for help. I have no fucking clue how to do multivariate shit…You stare ahead as you inch forward, before a frustrating, jolting stop at a red light. Your eye is drawn to a kid crossing the road, wearing a grey hoodie. They look forlorn, for some reason you can’t entirely enumerate, and you glance back at them as the light finally turns.

The sun isn’t very high yet, so there are still some odd shadows stretching across the sidewalk, but you could’ve sworn that the kid had no face.

****

You manage to put the pharmacist and your grandma and the obviously-just-a-trick-of-the-light-I-mean-how-else-could-that-be faceless kid out of your mind for the rest of the morning and actually get some results you can work with from the analyses you’d been worried about. And when Dr. Dominguez pops into lab to talk to you, she is actually impressed at both the pace and quality of work you’ve delivered thus far. In fact, you’re feeling pretty damn good about everything, despite the earlier unpleasantness, so you decide to grab some lunch and hang out with some of the other grad students and lab techs.

Lunch-special sushi in hand, you plop yourself down at one of the rundown old tables in the work room. Valerie is there, along with Raul, one of the grad students from a micro lab down the hall, and Jackson, one of the general lab techs. Everyone says hi, but you’re only vaguely following the conversation as you dig into your spicy tuna roll. Something something TA stipends being cut. Which is such bullshit, of course, but nothing new. You’re just about to jump into the discussion when you get a Facebook notification. It’s your cousin, who tagged you in a post. You stare for a good five seconds at your phone.

Just remembering the good times with my cousin before he decided to be a transsexual.

And then a picture from when you were 14, a picture you’d thought you’d deleted from every conceivable online location. A picture that highlights pretty much every single aspect of your body that made staying in the closet completely untenable. Everything just always happens at once, huh.

“Fucking asshole,” you mutter, and are surprised to feel the hot prick of tears in your eyes.

“Becca, you alright?” Valerie asks, and you belatedly realize that everyone at the table heard you and is now staring. They think you were talking about one of them, or responding to something they said.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Just something my cousin posted. She’s—she can be such a jerk. Don’t worry about it,” you say as you hastily wipe away the tears.

“What’d she do?” Jackson asks. Valerie glares at him so fiercely that he rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, “Just, like, if you wanna talk about it.”

You sigh. You’re not precisely going stealth, but you also don’t just talk to everyone about being trans. Have you actually come out to Jackson? Valerie knows, and Raul, but you don’t think you’ve ever directly talked to Jackson about it.

“It’s—it’s fine. Just, she posted a picture of me from before I came out, and I really hate thinking about any of it.” You speak with a bit more force than you intend.

“Why is that a big deal?” Jackson asks, taking a bite of his pasta. Valerie glares at him again and Raul just shakes his head.

“It’s just…it took me a long time to figure it out, and I don’t particularly like being reminded of that. And it’s not great for dysphoria, either.” You say this distractedly as you go to the post and untag yourself.

“That’s really rough,” Raul says, frowning.

“Sorry, what’s that word?” Jackson asks with a raised eyebrow, “I guess I just don’t get it? It’s just a kid picture of you, what’s it matter?”

And that does it. You stand abruptly, “I need to get back to the lab.” You hear Valerie and Raul berating Jackson as you walk away, but you’re just so very done. You toss the empty sushi container in the trash at the corner of the hallway, near one of the windows overlooking the main walkway through campus. And you nearly trip over your own feet as you swivel to double check something down below. A gray hoodie. A child with no face looking over their shoulder as they turn a corner.

****

You don’t mean to take the wrong street. It’s already been far too long a day between all of the inanity with your extended family and Jackson. And everything you tried to run after lunch was a bust, making you feel like Dr. Dominguez’s praise earlier was completely undeserved. Given all of that, you decided to get takeout again, even though you really should be cooking, so you’re walking to pick up your order. It is early evening, the shadows having elongated to embrace nearly everything, and while debating whether it’s even worth confronting your cousin about the jab, your feet simply take you the wrong way. You don’t even notice, until you’re standing in front of an empty park that’s three blocks over from where you should be. Or, wait.

Not empty. One lone figure, sitting quietly on one of the swings, wreathed in shadow.

You’ve been walking quite quickly, but over the course of a few steps have come almost to a stop. With a shiver, you glance around the area, but no parents or adults are in sight, and the figure looks young, even from a distance. 12, maybe? Maybe the kid lives in one of the nearby houses? Probably. Should you call someone? Who? Not the cops. They’d just as soon arrest or hurt the kid as help them. It isn’t that late, leaving the kid be is probably the most prudent course of action.

But. The kid feels…familiar. Even from a hundred meters, you can see that their shoulders are hunched, their hands are tight on the chains of the swing. The gentle creaking as those chains move with the slight shifts of the kid’s body is despondent in a way that is known to you, somehow. So, against your better judgement, you leave the sidewalk and walk across the damp grass to the edge of the playground. When you step onto the sand, the kid’s head jerks up and their shoulders tense further, raising almost to their ears. You stop walking and from the new angle a streetlight throws the kid’s grey hoodie into stark relief.

“Are-are you okay?” you have to clear your throat to get the words out and your voice sounds weak and tinny in the still, silent park.

The shoulders shrug. The kid is also wearing jean cutoffs, their scuffed sneakers unlaced.

“Do you need me to call someone?”

A sharp shake of the head, and then their hands release the chains and fall into their lap.

“Don’t need anything,” the kid’s voice is low, you can barely hear what they’re saying. Gingerly, you take the last few steps to the swing set and awkwardly settle into one of the worn rubber seats. Only after you have already done this do you think to question why you are so compelled to talk to this child who—maybe? how?—has been dogging you all day.

“I said I don’t need anything,” the kid says in an emotionless voice. Their face is still completely shadowed by their hood and shaggy hair.

“I just—look, kid, I think I’ve been where you are, and—”

The kid cuts across you, “I tried to tell them today. But I…couldn’t, I didn’t know how to, so I just ended up saying I like girly shoes and wanted some or whatever.”

Oh. So you were right. You know exactly what’s going on. In fact, you’re pretty sure you had that precise conversation, once.

“That’s tough,” you acknowledge, slowly pushing back in the swing, which creaks beneath you, “It took me a long time too.”

There’s silence. Then:

“That’s what I was worried about.”

You start and quickly glance over at the kid, who has finally turned to face you.

She doesn’t have a face, which, you suppose, really shouldn’t be a surprise. You weren’t seeing things, earlier. There’s just a smooth expanse of dark olive skin. The featureless head tilts to one side and she speaks again.

“I thought you might recognize me.” The voice is plaintive. With every word, you feel a sense of vertigo, like there is a mouth, somewhere, that is making those sounds, that it’s right in front of you, but you cannot perceive it.

You are breathing very rapidly, “I thought—how do you know me? What’s, I mean—”

“This?” the kid gestures at her face, “I don’t know, I can see but I can’t see myself, I dunno what’s going on. All I know is I was walking to the park and then I was here, or I mean, on the road this morning and saw you and I followed you and I just want to go home or just sleep or just melt away but I can’t, okay? There’s just nothing.”

Without noticing, you have sprung to your feet and are backing away from the faceless girl, the faceless girl who can’t tell her parents who she is. Who you are.

“I didn’t want to think about it,” you whisper. Why are you even responding to this? This is a hallucination, or a dream. You’re just reacting to the whole bullshit situation with your cousin and Jackson and that fucking pharmacy tech. Did you fall asleep back in the lab, is that it? You pinch yourself, but no luck, “I came out and that was what I needed. Okay? Why dwell on, on, on all of that shi—stuff that happened before?”

The girl is still sitting placidly in the swing, though her hands are once again clenched around the chains.

“I knew you were me, I guess. So I followed. I don’t think anyone else notices me either, not that that’s anything new,” The note of bitterness in her voice cuts you to the bone, “I thought maybe you—me, future me, whatever—would be able to…fix me? But nothing’s changed, has it?”

You’re backed up to the slide now, “Why are you doing this? What even are you?”

You slump against the side of slide, your knees suddenly weak, “This cannot—this is bullshit, I don’t know how you’re doing this, but—”

The faceless girl is in front of you now, hands jammed into the front pocket of her hoodie. She stands there, contemplating her future self, “I just want to understand,”

The kid, proto-Becca, or whatever or whoever she is, sure sounds like a kid desperately trying to make sense of something, and not some ghoulish nightmare creature.

“Just stop,” you say in a hoarse voice, “I just don’t want to think about it, I shouldn’t have to think about it, I just want to move forward.”

“Yeah,” proto-Becca abruptly falls to her knees, and draws them up to her chest. It takes a few seconds for you to understand the sounds that the kid is making are sobs.

You hug your own knees and contemplate getting up and running away and just forgetting about all of it: this faceless phantom of your childhood self, your relatives’ inability to accept your reality, the absurd, useless, pointless stats and analyses. You’re crying too, desperately trying to refocus on the here and now, instead of being drawn down into the rabbit hole of loneliness and regret and fear that always consumes you when you think too hard about those years in which it felt like your whole body was turning against you and you couldn’t find any satisfactory explanations for what you were feeling.

But the sounds of proto-Becca, of proto-you, sobbing into her knobbly knees bring you back to the present. Ironic, that. No matter what else, however she got here, whatever happened to her face, she’s a kid. She’s a kid. She’s. A. Kid. You were a kid.

You furiously wipe your eyes and nose and sit up, scooting a bit closer to proto-Becca.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” you say in as steady a voice as you can manage, “I was scared, and, and, and I lashed out. It’s not your fault, kid.”

She doesn’t lift her head, but the sobs are quieter.

“I mean, kid, no offense, but you don’t have a face. And somehow you’re me, right?” Okay, that came out meaner than you meant it to, “The truth is that I’ve done my best to forget pretty much everything that happened back when I was…you, I guess. But I can’t.”

She sniffles, “I’m trying to tell them, I am. But the boys at school, every time I try to talk to Mom or Dad I see those boys laughing and yelling and coming at me and I can’t, I don’t—know how I ended up here, or what to do about this or anything. I just want things to be normal.”

And, finally, you get it. Not why she’s here, or how, or what any of this means, but, at least, what to do. You’ve tried to help kids who were like you before. You’d never have told them that they needed to keep their feelings concealed, that they needed to not do anything so as to avoid reminding you of your own past. So why, then, are you doing it to yourself?

“Is it okay if I come sit next to you, maybe give you a hug?” you ask, as gently as you can.

You get a glimpse of the faceless face from behind the curtain of hair, “I—I think so?”

You get to your feet, a task far more laborious than you feel it should be, and cross to her. When you plop down by her side, she twitches, but it’s toward you. Slowly and carefully, you wrap an arm around her narrow shoulders, and hold her close. She’s still crying, and the hood has slipped from her dark curls.

“It’s okay that it’s taking time,” you say, “It’s really, really hard. I meant that. There’s…nothing out there. No one to explain to you, to, uh, us, what these feelings mean, really. I remember. I remember how much it feels like you’re just stuck in the same looped computer program. Endlessly completing the same actions with no idea why, only feeling like something isn’t right. And so scared of what happens if you do anything that breaks that loop.”

“That’s pretty much it,” she says with a note of wait, that wasn’t completely in my head???, “I don’t see how I can explain to anyone, especially Mom and Dad.”

“I think all you can do is be honest. There are some resources out there, although maybe they aren’t published yet,” you glance sideways at her, “But if you just…elucidate those feelings you’ve been sitting on, it at least opens the door to them comprehending.”

“I guess so,” she sighs, and then giggles, “But also, like, no offense, that was, like, a really freakin’ pretentious way to say that.”

You snort and ruffle her hair, “Whatever. Something for you to look forward to, then.”

She’s quiet for a bit and then, quick like a bird, she wraps her arms around you too, “So I’m gonna tell them, then?”

You shrug, “When you’re ready. Whenever that is. And I promise, you are no lesser if it takes a while. Okay?”

“But you’re still going to hate thinking about me, right? I mean, about how long it took me, you, to finally do it?” her head tilts.

You sigh, “I don’t know. It’s hard, I won’t pretend it isn’t. But I think I can at least say that it’s okay. That it’s not my, or your, fault.”

When you look up, her face appears. Smile first. Broad and full of braces, her quick and nervous brown eyes darting to your face and then back to her knees.

“You’ll be fine,” you say, giving her one last squeeze, “I’m the living proof, right?”

Her laugh lingers in the air as she fades away.

#transroadwarrior #stories #long post #about face #body horror #of the faceless variety #trans #transphobia #briefly #becca #proto becca #submission

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fixxofvixx · 4 years ago

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Stay With Me - Demon Leo AU - Chapter 26

Hello! I am posting this while on my bed...recovering lol. I had to have one of my teeth removed today after my dog, Jinx, decided I didn't need it anymore haha. Note to self: watch out for your dog's wrecking ball of a head when you're playing. He rammed right into my face and the dentist said it would be less painful and less expensive just to remove it. So now I'll look horrific until I can afford to have a replacement. Thank goodness for masks, right? Lol

Anyway, I hope everyone is doing well. I hope you enjoy my writings from the dentist chair haha. Lemme know what you think!💖💖💖

😈😈😈😈😈

Every sound that you heard in the forest made your heart stop. Almost an hour of walking and nothing looked familiar.

Out of nowhere, you heard a howl.

The wolves!

You looked around and eventually spotted the dark figure of the alpha emerge from the trees. He was always too happy to see Leo and visits usually accompanied a few treats. You started to walk towards him but the low growl warned you not to.

"It's okay buddy. It's just me. I'm lost, have you seen Leo?"

Even after you spoke, the growling didn't cease. If anything, it became more menacing. Perhaps you were mistaken and this wasn't the alpha. If it wasn't, you were in trouble. Backing up slowly, your heart dropped when you heard another growl to your left. Slowly turning your head you saw another large wolf appear from the trees. You had never seen this wolf before and a cold fear filled your body. You took a deep breath and then took off to your right. You heard the growls and snarls close behind. You ran for a few feet but the earth beneath your feet was quickly turning to mud. It was getting more and more difficult to run. The growls were getting closer and tears poured from your eyes. You looked behind you to see one of the wolves lunge for you. You screamed and tried to dodge but the world seemed to tilt. You were falling now. You fell for a few seconds but you couldn’t remember there being this high of a cliff in the forest.

Suddenly, your body hit water. The wind was knocked from your lungs. You knew how to swim but try as you might, you kept sinking lower. Your oxygen was gone and your lungs hurt. You knew what was going to happen. You were going to drown.

ZAP

Just when you were about to give up an electric jolt went through your body. It felt strange and you opened your eyes. You couldn’t see anything around you, it was completely dark.

ZAP

Another jolt traveled throughout your body and this time you could hear a faint voice. Desperate for help, you kicked and attempted to swim to the surface. You could see a faint light above you and you tried to move towards it. It seemed like it was taking forever for you to get to the surface but it always seemed out of reach.

ZAP

One more jolt and you were gasping for air. You were instantly cold and now you were coughing.

“Y/N?! Are you alright?! Can you hear me?! Say something!” You heard Leo’s voice but you were so confused.

Opening your eyes, you saw Leo hovering over your face. You felt cold, hard tiles along your back and you tried to speak but more water sputtered from your lungs. He helped you to your side to help get some the water out by hitting your back lightly. Everything that had happened came flooding back to you and you pushed his hand away. With all the strength you could muster, you began to drag your body away from him. You still didn’t know what was happening and you didn’t want to take any chances.

“Y/N, what are you doing? Where are you going?" He stood up and stepped towards you. You braced yourself for what this 'Leo' might do.

In a flash, you were in his bed, dry, and fully clothed. He sat beside you on the bed and brushed your hair from your face.

"What happened, my love?" Hearing him call you this instead your name in a cold tone gave you hope that this was your Leo.

"I--" You coughed again and Leo pulled you up to a sitting position. When you felt like you could speak, your voice was hoarse. "I need to ask you something."

"Of course, go ahead."

"Where is the clock with the trees?"

"Under my bed in the box where it's been since you used it. Why?"

"What about the statue of the three animals?"

"You know that isn't here anymore. What are you talking about? Did you hit your head on the tub or something?"

"Is my room still there?" You pointed in the direction of your room.

"Why would it be gone?"

"And my parents?"

"Are in the Underworld with Ravi. Will you please tell me what is going on?"

Through half-choked tears, you explained everything that had happened. His rejection, the wolves, and drowning.

"I went into the bathroom to check on you because it had been a long time. When I got in there, you were under the water. It was strange, though. When I got you out of the water and on the floor, you were so still but breathing. You had taken in some water but it didn't affect your breathing. I couldn't wake you up. I decided to try sending some electric current through your body and finally you opened your eyes. It was until then that you started choking on the water."

You absorbed what he was telling you but what you had seen seemed so real that you were afraid that this was another trick on your mind.

"What about the wolves?"

"What about them?"

"They were chasing me, trying to kill me. I couldn't find Gomi's cave or the waterfall we went to. While I was running from the wolves, I fell in the water."

"You've been here the whole time, my love. You never left the house. It was only a dream. The wolves love you, they would never do that."

"Perhaps…"

"I'm sure of it. We can go see the tomorrow, okay? But you should also know me. I would never in a million years tell you to leave. You've had too much on your mind." Leo's hand smoothed down your now dry hair. The feeling was comforting and you were thankful that everything was just a dream. Desperate to have him close, you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards you.

He understood what you wanted and climbed into the bed next to you. You turned towards him and curled your hand against his cheek. He didn't move, letting you do what you wanted to calm your heart. Leaning forward, you placed your lips over his for a moment. He kissed you back but let you set the pace. You leaned your head back and smiled.

"You know, when I thought you really wanted me to leave and not see each other for a while, my heart almost stopped. I had no idea where to go or what to do. I was afraid that your mother would convince you to go with her."

"That would never happen, y/n. As long as I'm alive, I want you next to me. I know my mother is lying about the child. I swear I will never ask you to leave my side." He kissed you this time and you could feel his promise. Even so, you wanted more. You needed to feel him next to you in every way. When he broke the kiss you wrapped your hand around his neck to keep him from going far.

"I want more."

"More? I already promised. You don't believe me?"

"Not that….I want more of what came after the promise." Realization dawned on his face and a sinister grin appeared on his face.

"Ah...hmmm...how much more are we talking? I need specifics in order to fulfill your wishes completely, you know? Would you care to elaborate?"

You rolled your eyes and moved until you were sitting across his waist. You leaned down until just an inch or two separated your lips.

"Take my clothes off and make love to me. I want my body to be completely jelly by the morning. Is that specific enough?"

Suddenly, Leo's hair went wild and black smoke crept into your peripheral vision. The smoke curled around your wrists as Leo flipped you back on the bed. Unable to move your arms, you were now at his mercy. Leo's eyes shone in the darkness but held a sinister glint.

"You've gotten yourself in trouble, y/n. I hope you're prepared to scream."

#vixx #taekwoon #leo #taekwoon fic #taekwoon au #demon taekwoon

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sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 4 years ago

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Italy brings the rock’n’roll youth of tomorrow to Rotterdam 2021

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It’s the final day of doing my yet again botched attempt at a review series and I’ve been dying to post my gigantic write-up for my newly beloved Italy, at the top of the bookies, darling of all hearts, ready to rock Eurovision, and even more! Vai vai~

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

Representing them this year is Måneskin, a band made up of four - singer and possibly the hottest motherfucker to grace the planet Earth Damiano, guitarist Thomas, drummer Ethan, and the cherry on top - bassist Victoria, whose half-Danish heritage is the reason Måneskin is called Måneskin (= Moonshine). They thought of this name at a “battle of the bands” that they won, thinking they might as well change it to something different, but in the end... say it with me now

They have known each other since highschool, made a band in 2016, won the “battle of the bands”, started out making a living as buskers in the streets of Rome, from which they gradually grew through playing small gigs, and later tried out for X Factor Italia season 11, on which they came 2nd.

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They went on to release an EP titled after their debut single of the name of the song above, including some of their X Factor covers, and later on got to get big through releasing an album, getting it certified all kinds of goodnesses, having singles from that album be popular, even releasing a documentary of themselves... they’ve done so much in life and they’re only 20-22 years old... aw man, the life is just ahead of them, for them to be so young and win Sanremo on their first try. (And I’ve always wanted them for Eurovision ever since I was aware of their existence, because their music is very nice, and they just feel like charming human beings. So imagine my joy seeing them announced for Sanremo 2021? And them WINNING months later??? man what kind of luck do I have even if just for a year lmao <333)

“Zitti e buoni”, the last song title alphabetically this year, is purely of the band’s making, and the lyrics are talking about not abiding the rules in general, how they’re out of their minds but they’re not like “them”, and how people talk but don’t know what they’re talking at all.

REVIEW

IT’S A PRETTY CRAZY GOOD ROCK SONG AMEN HALLELUJAH OPRAH WOOOOOOO

wbk I love it. Yeah sure it might be composited of something that sounds like standard rock riffs and what not, but it’s the ENERGY that goes into it that gets me more excited for this than for Finland, a fellow rock song of this year’s final.

Damiano’s vocals have the specific kind of rockstar tinge to them, and they’re very complimenting to the song. The way he says everything is beautiful, the “e buonasera signore e signori” line in particular is just a moment that shows the beginning of power somehow, I don’t know. The chorus is great, eventhough it’s just one line repeated but it changes the pronoun each time (going from “I’m out of my mind” to “you’re out of your mind” to “we’re out of my mind”) - MAGICAL.

And the bridge. YES, the bridge. Along with the outro it’s the best part of the song. The chord progression. The lines repeated on that bridge. The emotions going on. The delivery of the lines of the emotion. It’s a convincing little bridge, to the point that it sounds just as great with violins! Wish they brought one, because according to Love Love Peace Peace, nothing screams winner quite like a violin.

God damn to the Måneskinsters pump this song up to the maximum. It was originally a ballad song, and I think that’s for the better for them to present it as a rock song, because a Sanremo ballad in a pool of Sanremo ballads... unless it stands out according to demoscopic & press juries, and there seems to be a no better option at hand that could make them stand out other than just sending a classy ballad, it just fizzles out in a spectacularly lame fashion. Måneskin’s one real shot through was with a song that would make them stand out, and they did it, and they’re here.

Everyone has put in their work, their passion, their skills into this, and it shows off in spades. Måneskin themselves are fantastic and chill human beings, who too, just like Flo Rida, get to enjoy how crazy amazing Eurovision experience is. And for that I salute them with my whole heart. Whatever they do tonight on Eurovision, they’ll leave a lasting mark in it. And for a good reason.

Also an Italian Eurovision edit that doesn’t suck, once again, yay! (In their defense, they didn’t have a whole lot to work with, so they released theirs early - just a few trimmings here and there, and a lyric change so that they skate by EBU easier with their anti-swearing policies. Gahddamn swearing~)

Approval factor: FUCK YES Follow-up factor: The funny thing about this is that last year their entry is about making noise but the song was a love ballad, this year it’s a song titled “shut up and behave” while dressed in a loudest motherfucking musical setting lol. Fuck the rules! It was solely on the Sanremo’s last year’s winner Diodato not to send an entry he thought that would fit for Sanremo, and that’s good on him - he can return next year replenished as all hell, and maybe aim for the trophy again? wishful thinking? aaaa. Anyway on a personal scale “Zitti e buoni” is a marvelous follow-up from “Fai rumore”, even if skipping 2020 entirely, especially after “Soldi”, which was already a fab follow-up after “Non mi avete fatto niente”, and even from “Occidentali’s Karma” on. And so it is subjectively a good follow-up. Italy SLAYS. AQ factor: As I write this, the odds are very much in their favour, if not a little bit too persuaded over the fact that Måneskin gave a good rock performance and knew what they would be doing, or it’s just that the Italians like overbetting for their acts way too damn much. But nevertheless, I just wanna hope for them to break the expectations people set on rock songs in Eurovision and SMASH themselves a victory. Or a top 2. Or a top 5-10. Anything will do, goddamn.

NF CORNER

Well, I promised that I will talk about Sanremo in a NF corner, because this is the first year I actually cared to watch it myself, unlike when I would’ve sided with someone whose reviewing style I love in not caring to watch it, and usually just check all the songs on the last day lol.

One thing about Sanremo that I sorely underestimate is that a handful of artists on there can come across as very versatile, and the one song you loved of one genre they presented several years ago, can be completely different and leave you baffled for days if you’re not very familiarized with their discography and the Italian music scene in general. Which now I’m going to pay an extreme amount of attention towards following Sanremo 2022 on out because hot damn did I never see gems like Willie Peyote coming!

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Did I call him a gem over his entry? Yes, somehow. Am I even sure if I’m being serious?

I think I can somewhat agree when I say that for the international fam watching Sanremo at least, “Mai dire mai (La locura)” was a major expectation destroyer, at least for the crowd whose main lookouts in a lineup like this years were Ermal Meta, Annalisa, Arisa, etc. You know they’re gonna bring a ballad, and their ballads are usually decent, but what about the unexpected? That’s where a handful of acts, including Willie, comes in for me. The bass hooks in the second the song starts. The beat is minimalistic but strong enough to slap. The steady rap flow is mesmerizing, paired with that somewhat specifically Italian(?) vocal timbre. The chorus is greatly catchy, and it is a sung chorus, with this song still being largely a rap song. The electric-esque guitar soundwaves interspersed throughout the song are magnificent and magical, and on the chorus they even make a constant melody riff that repeats and may get annoying on multiple listens, but I still adore them. I really love the bridge as well and all that goes into it. A fantastic surprise of the season for me personally.

Now I figure that the lyrics may hinder the enjoyment for some, especially the points raised in some lines that may seem questionable and shady (if this went to Eurovision and got a “twerking” comment on Youtube, I will not be surprised if the description of choice is “patriarchic twerking”), but am I supposed to be fully offended at some points of it if I’m not its target audience, although I see some of what I do nowadays in those lines? “Mai dire mai” is probably dedicated to the Italian media and the Italian trends and what not. I’m not even disappointed it didn’t win, because if it went to Eurovision, it would’ve likely been met like a lesser “Occidentali’s Karma” - catchy song with lyrics that fly over listener’s heads which might as well be very accidentally mocking how we live our lives.

“Mai dire mai” has just less of a memorability-in-history value and no memorable gimmicks (Francesco had a gorilla, what is it visually going for on Willie’s performance?), besides, it would’ve suffered even WORSE post-Eurovision-edit than OK has - a lot of the bits and bobs that pass me by but when I notice them they make a really great entry, but other than the (presumably copyrighted) removal of a sample from a TV series (spoken by a fish character, nonetheless), what else is there to remove???? With Eurovision’s rules specifying that brands (Spotify, TikTok) and swearwords (lots of the good old Italian ones that Italian radios would digitally scratch out to emphasize that there were a LOT in the second verse) can’t be sung live, the song loses some of its lyrical charm. And you can’t just go around the song like Francesco Gabbani chopping off entire verses full of content full of witty lyrics and a reference to Chanel in order to present the more lyrically singable-along-to lines and not let go of the long chorus to whom his gorilla can dance to. “Mai dire mai” is RIFE with lyrics, that’s what a rap song is. It would have absolutely fallen apart.

Also no one paged it as a potential Eurovision winner during Sanremo, at least seriously, and it doesn’t have much that would have clicked with the future Eurovision generation and contestants when they would be asked to name their favourite Eurovision song of all times. In a world where from Italy they really like “Grande amore” and “Soldi” and even sometimes could name “Occidentali’s Karma”, is there really a place for “Mai dire mai (La locura)” over “Zitti e buoni”? Who would be naming that song as their favourite of all time? If you raised a hand, you lie to yourself, because that would’ve been me.

Now I don’t know how many of the Tumblr fam would draw ire at me putting out paragraphs worth of me being ultra positive towards this song, because as I’ve learned, there’s an ironic and unironic audience for Mr. Peyote on Tumblr especially, but for me I guess it was pretty worthy, also a thing I was finally able to yell off my chest since, and now I finally said it, I will continue streaming “Mai dire mai (La locura)” in peace.

He might’ve not won Sanremo, but his song won the equally important Mia Martini Critics Award, and also, my heart. Rest in broken shards of the Boris aquarium, my sweet cynical prince~

Måneskin were my 2nd after him so I’m equally happy they won. But what about my other favourites?

• Extraliscio ft. Davide Toffolo - Bianca luce nera A diluted version of the liscio genre, still makes for a very fascinatingly catchy and swaying song with lots of great instruments that are violins and a clarinet. What I figure is kinda a love song. Their performances were also great, with lots of dancers on stage and a genuinely great fun to be had, and you may remember them more after their performance in cover night, which was titled “Rosamunda”. They were the ones with their main singer’s guitar spinning for whatever reason that was there to make their song catchy, I guess.

• Lo Stato Sociale - Combat Pop A little bit of a far cry from their glory heydays with 2nd place in Sanremo 2018, but they returned with an equally banging song and an amazing set of performance chaos they brought in each and every time - dedicating their first night’s one to making a performance to not forget (and being the ones of two to reference the great Bugo&Morgan incident from last year, the other being Willie Peyote), the second competitive one was for referencing politics, and so on.

• Colapesce & Dimartino - Musica leggerissima Sweet melancholic song with the shades of Sebastien Tellier kinda sound, this song may seem jolly at first, but the especially melancholic undertones denote that there’s something else going on. It’s actually about depression, as that’s what the term “musica leggerissima” (very light music) means. But it still found a heart in Italian listeners and the Italian world finally woke up to how great Antonio Di Martino and Lorenzo “Colapesce” Urciullo are, and a handful of viewers were slightly heartbroken to see it not place in the superfinal top 3. Who knows if they would’ve actually won over Måneskin. I just know that their rollerskater girlie is so damn fine~

Bugo has also returned but I think his redemption arc started off the wrong foot, as his return entry, “E invece si”, was a bloated showtune ballad and got obnoxious to listen to at part. I declared to myself that night when I first heard the new entry that regarding on what made “Sincero” great, I side with Morgan.

And a special shout out to Ghemon, whose 2019 song was more than just a “purple rose” unlike I noted on a last proper Italian entry review. I don’t know what expectations I had for him, but I certainly wanted to love “Momento perfetto” more at the first listen, which was also somewhat of a show-tuney piece, but with a bit more funk and pizzazz, also Ghemon was VERY much vibing with his song, and that made me feel great for the few other performances of it that I saw the following days. It’s definitely a grower song, and around 2 months after Sanremo I fell into a bit of a rabbit-hole of his earlier music discovering, and I may be a bit exaggerating but, give Ghemon a bit more of acknowledgement and a stellar enough song, and with a little bit of magic touch, I can maybe see him lifting the Golden Lion trophy one day. Don’t ask why. (also lovely music video for his 2021 entry, which replaces continuous spinning in an aesthetic area to everybody moving their body in a diner (hopefully with everyone in the MV tested and been negative for long enough for the MV to actually happen).)

NF CORNER (NON-COMPETITIVE)

There’s so much needed to be discussed about there. So I’ll restrict myself to the moments that I remember and cherish:

• Rosario Fiorello. Just. Him.

• And the gentleman next to him, Achille Lauro.

tw // body piercing

Belarus 2018 could never

Fiorello and Lauro are perfect matches to each other’s worlds of imagination, and I was more than ever glad to see so much creativity coming from each one of them, a host and a nightly interval act respectively.

• Once again, “Rosamunda Medley” by Extraliscio, I didn’t watch the cover night in its entirety but I think it’s good enough of a medley if it got a 3rd place from the cover night from the orchestra!

• Sanremo Newcomers section of this year. I liked or vibed to almost every song out of the 8, and I’m decently happy with the winner, but if there’s one big shoutout I really want to make, is to “Regina” by Davide Shorty, for it’s such a cozy funky little love song that always makes me happy when I hear it. My personal winner preference, but I don’t mind Davide getting 2nd! For as long as he gets to place 1st in a future main Sanremo event hihihihihi

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• Diodato proving himself to be a dance king at the beginning of his “Che vita meravigliosa” performance, my good Twitter friend made a bunch of videos where he dances to a lot of songs, as per request, check them out and you won’t forget it.

• Since Sanremo 2021 got rid of the audience as per COVID regulations and much to Amadeus’s dread, there ended up quite a handful of audience related memes. Such as the penis balloon et al.

• Remember when Sanremo 2021 audience was supposed to be whisked away in a cruise ship for safety measures? Pepperidge Farm remembers

• SESSO IBUPROFENEEEEEEEE

The guy that sang this song actually has the same birthday as me, so in my eyes, I feel like he has some charm to it. I’m biased lol sorry

There’s way too many more but I am afraid of flooding my post beyond your readability interest. Let’s hope that, in an event of Italy’s victory or non, we’ll get to see an even more iconic event of Sanremo emerge come the future. <3

ANY LAST WORDS?

Måneskin’s big goal was to rock Eurovision, and I think they’ve greatly accomplished that by just... doing what they do best, and that is, rocking. They leave energy lasting for days.

In bocca al lupo, fam. You’ll nail it, and even if you don’t win, Italy shouldn’t not hail you as national heroes after it’s all over.

#eurovision #eurovision 2021 #rotterdam 2021 reviews #italy #måneskin #zitti e buoni #gifs i didn't make

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beelziebabie · 5 years ago

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The First (Human) Deviltuber - Obey Me Brothers x Reader

Interactive?: At some parts, yes (Later on)

Gender: Female MC

Edited?: yuh

Notes: i stayed up until 1 am on tuesday but today doesnt REALLY start until 7 am on weekdays and 11 am on weekends. so this still counts as a monday post fight me��

CHAPTER TWO

“MC.. what is the meaning of this?” Lucifer sighed and put down his pen, turning his desk chair around and looking up at the little mini army you had scuffled together. Eyebrows raised, he sat in his chair with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. Through his irritated facade, he looked the slightest bit amused.

In a ‘confident’ stance, you glared down at him with his other five brothers standing behind you. You looked like a bunny with guard dogs surrounding you.

It was quite pitiful.

“We all agreed that we should go to the human world!” You crossed your arms and firmly placed down your foot.

“Oh, here we go again..”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Look. We can go to the human realm for like.. a vacation! I’ll pay for everything. Clothes, Food, whatever! You guys can stay in my house or at a hotel, whichever you want, and everyday we can do something different!“

“No, MC,” He turned around and picked up his pen again, scribbling something down on the papers in front of him. You groaned and moved over to the side of him.

“It’ll only be for what, two weeks? I'm sure you haven’t been in the human world in a while.. so I can show you guys around! I'm sure there's something you haven't seen yet,” You continued, skimming the room to see the brothers' expressions.

Leviathan noticed you looking and gave you a thumbs up, while Beel nodded with a smile and Asmodeus clapped his hands lightly. ‘You're doing great!’ He mouthed to you.

Your smile only grew wider and you brought your attention back to Lucifer. “C’mon, Luci. You have six people against you on this.”

Lucifer murmured something under your breath that you didn’t catch. He turned to face you with an unreadable expression and you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.

Still, you kept up your assertive smile. The staring contest lasted a couple seconds, then he finally groaned and turned away. “Fine. I’ll be letting Diavolo know about our travels.”

“Yess!” You fist bumped the air then wrapped your arms around Lucifer’s shoulders, pulling him so close that your cheeks were touching. “Thank you Lucifer!”

“..Let go of me,” He said though he didn’t make any effort to move away. You giggled lightly and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, pulling away from him.

Once you backed away from him and he recollected himself, he cleared his throat and went back to his work. “You all may leave now. We leave tomorrow morning. MC, text me the details later.”

. . .

Honestly you didn’t expect him to comply so quickly, and then make you all leave the next day. You thought it would take more convincing than the equivalent of a 7th grade presentation.

“Oi MC, hurry up will you?” Mammon opened the door and sat on your bed. You blinked away your daze and looked over to him.

“Ah, sorry, I must’ve been spacing out. I’m almost done,” You hurriedly shoved the last couple of folders and notebooks into your bookbag then swung it over your shoulder.

“You were the one who wanted to even do this, don’t go spacing out at the last minute,” He clicked his tongue and shook his head, taking a lollipop from your desk and popping it into his mouth.

“Yeah yeah I know,” You laughed lightly, smoothing out any wrinkles in your shirt. You then looked around the room to make sure that you didn’t forget anything.

“Okay! I’m ready.”

“Good, ‘cause you took forever,” He stood up and walked ahead of you with his hand in his pockets. “We were waiting for so long. Felt like I aged, like, 5000 years.”

Again, you laughed nervously. “Sorry.”

. . .

The seven of you finally made it back to the human world. More specifically, the front of your house.

“It’s not nearly as big as the House of Lamentation, but it’ll have to do,” You smiled at them then turned to open the front door— only to realize that you didn’t have your keys.

“Shit, uhmm..” You bit your lip as you felt around your jeans for any sign of your house key. They weren’t there.

“Is everything okay, MC?” Satan said from behind you. He tried to glance over your shoulder but you swiftly whipped around and nodded your head.

“Mhm! Yes, we’re fine over here!” You clasped your hands together and put on the most convincing smile you could.

You could tell they could see right through it.

“Ah, I just uhm, forgot something. Yeah, and I have to get it from uh..” You looked around your surroundings and pointed up at your balcony. “There!”

“I see..”

“I’ll be back in one second,” You said, putting down your bag and getting into a jumping position.

With a couple of failed attempts, you finally were able to grab onto the thick railing and use the side of your house to pull yourself up. You clung to the railing tightly, fearing you would fall, then rolled onto the other side of the balcony and stood up with a proud grin.

“She does know that we can fly, right?” Beel said to Lucifer, watching as you climbed from the balcony to the roof and through a small window.

Lucifer sighed and shook his head. “Let her be.”

After a couple of moments of the boys waiting outside in the April heat, they heard the patter of your feet from outside the door. A click, then the door opened swiftly.

“Come in!” You said, hand on your hip and your hair all tousled.

. . .

“Okay. Lucifer is sleeping in the spare bedroom. Beel is on the pull-out couch in the living room, Leviathan is on the basement couch, Mammon insisted on a blowup bed in my room.. Asmodeus has the other basement couch. Any objections?” All the boys sat on the living room sofa (and some on the floor) staring up at you as you repeated the same thing for maybe the 4th time.

“Yes,” Asmodeus was the one to speak up this time. You sighed and nodded to him. “Yes, Asmo?”

“I still don’t understand why Lucifer gets a whole room to himself! Shouldn’t that be me? I’m the one with the biggest setup here,” He whined and puffed his lip out. You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Lucifer is the oldest so he gets his own room. Unless you want to share a room with him?” That shut him up immediately.

“Since that's over with, you guys are free to do whatever you want. Just no destroying my property please,” You said, hands on your hips and your eyes narrowed.

“Can I trust you all?” You tapped your foot lightly and each brother nodded firmly.

“Of course!”

“Definitely.”

“Mm.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, sure lol,” Leviathan was already turning on the TV and trying to figure out how to turn on your PlayStation.

“Why wouldn't you trust me? You can trust me with anything MC!”

“I’m glad to hear that, Mammon,” You smiled softly and ruffled his hair. He weakly swatted your hand away.

“I’m not sure if that’s 100% true though..”

“Shut up Asmo! You’ll probably bring a witch to her house and mess up one of her rooms!”

“I won't! I’ll get a hotel or something! You’d probably steal her gaming set and sell it or something.”

“I would never!”

“Haha, uhm, guys, please don’t do that.”

“Hey, MC? You might wanna check this out...” Leviathan tapped your shoulder and you turned around. He pointed to the TV and you have never felt your heart drop so quickly in your life.

“..Im so fucked.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #tfdt #god i love beel so fucking much #cookie monster boy #he munch #💗💖💗💕💓💞me rn #the first deviltuber #i need melatonin pills

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aquaticalay · 5 years ago

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Siren .Chapter Three.

Bucky Barnes x Sonic Screaming!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes fancies you, a singer who performs at a local bar every Monday and Friday night. After a few months of attending your gigs, Bucky finally got the chance to talk to you. One problem: you are New York's sonic screaming vigilante. And the avengers have been trying to figure out who you are for months. (Post-Endgame)

Warning/s for this chapter : cursing lol, mentions of violence

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, eventual smut (which you can skip)

Word count: 1800+

Disclaimer: I do not own the Marvel characters.

Note: I'm uploading on mobile for the third time, still won't show up in the tags. Help

I will post a new chapter every two days. Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist!

"This person did what?" Sam asked, making sure if he heard Bucky correctly. The two of them were in the Avengers meeting room the next morning.

"Screamed," He confirmed. "And it was inhuman. Even I hurt all over."

Sam studied the gun he brought back, then looked back at Bucky, an interrogative look on his face.

"What?" Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, "You don't believe me? Well–"

"Oh, I believe you," Sam said blankly, "In the last three months, there have been five reports on a high pitched noise. In the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, and Newark. The fifth was from Harlem last night, your encounter," Sam breathed, "I have been looking into it alone. I thought it was some sort of device. I… didn't even think it might be a person."

Bucky's finger anxiously tapped on the table. He hadn't seen who the person was. The hood she was wearing had given the person the features of a shadow— it's like they weren't even real. It was ghostly, the way they disappeared.

"If you find this… Siren, tell me. I want to be the one to find them," Bucky demanded, and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

You were the first to wake up. Still in the apartment, you noticed everyone around you was a mess, sleeping and snoring like college kids after a long night of partying. Vince and Luna stayed up until four, both of them in a state of panic. They were worried about getting caught, even after Lando reassured them that it was incredibly hard to track you, thanks to the layers and layers of security that he has set for your online presence. Lando fell asleep on the computer desk, after a long night of fortifying the security.

You decided to leave them a note saying that you were going home. You changed into a white shirt and sweatpants, stuffing all your things in a duffel bag.

You took the subway to Manhattan, where your apartment was.

Your home was not small— not at all.

It was a penthouse in the center of Manhattan, but some sort of guilt always haunted you when you step in. The penthouse wasn't yours, not really. You inherited it from your father, who was allegedly killed after he created you.

You've always loved to sing, ever since you were a child. Three years ago, a desperate ex-KGB spy, who has descended into madness, held you hostage in exchange for your father's money. When he found out your father has secretly contacted the police, he slit your throat, then commited suicide by stabbing himself.

They were able to salvage your life, but your vocal cords has been badly damaged, and every doctor you met told you the damage was beyond repair. You couldn't even talk, let alone sing.

Your father one of the four founders of Viseur Corps, a scientific research corporation. The other three owners were parents of Vince, Luna, and Lando.

Your father urged a bioengineering project to fix your vocal cords called project 'vox.' After a year of extensive surgeries, you could finally speak again.

The side effect, however, was unexpected.

A small miscalculation allowed your vocal cords to vibrate at the speed of sound itself, sometimes even faster.

A week after, all four scientists were found dead, cyanide poison in their systems, and the bioactive particles and chemical radiation used to restore your vocal cords has been stolen. Thankfully, without a proper application method, the sonic characteristics of the vocal cords were hard to replicate. Hard, but not impossible.

The killer has never been found. Two years later, the sonic formula finally popped up in your radar. If you got the formula, you could stop anyone else from weaponizing the vox formula, and you could finally track the murderer.

You laid down on the couch, feeling utterly useless. You've got a gig to play a day after tomorrow, you could get some well-needed rest today. One problem: you could not rest. Not mentally. The burden of being somewhat responsible for your own father’s death, and your inability to catch the murderer so far has urged you to do more physical activities. Running, swimming, anything to get your mind off the stress. It has been an effective way to deal with negative energy.

You took a shower, and decided to go for a jog. You had your earphones embedded in into your earlobes, shielding you from any conversation attempt. It was a nice day. The sun was not too bright, the wind was not too hard. In the middle of your run, the music stopped. The tune changed into your ringtone, and you slowed down to look at your phone. It was Lando.

You stopped running altogether and started walking as you answered the call.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“(Y/n),” he said over the line. You could tell he was tired, “Got home safe?”

"Yeah," you told him shortly, "What's up?"

"You're on the news," he told you urgently, "well, not you. The other guy. You know, your alter ego.."

"Shit," you whispered, "How bad is it?"

"It's the headline on every news channel," he said worriedly.

As you were approaching a cafè, you did not hesitate to go in. You saw a TV in the corner, and sure enough, there was footage of your confrontation with James Barnes on the screen.

'The Avengers has started a nationwide manhunt for what they call 'The Siren,' said a reporter.

"(Y/n)?" Lando said through the phone. You were struck, you forgot you were still on the phone.

You snapped back to life, "I'll call you back."

Without waiting for an answer, you turned off the call.

You were in the middle of the cafè staring at the TV.

So yeah, some people were already looking at you funny.

When you noticed, you decided to get coffee. It would be weird just to burst in, stare at the TV, and just leave. You ordered a latte and took a seat, where you had a good view of the screen.

You listened intently, taking a good sip of your coffee.

They were describing what they could about your physical features, but with your suit on, the description weren't very accurate.

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you froze.

"I didn't expect to see you here," said James Barnes. He was wearing a dark denim jacket and jeans, but he was missing his gloves and sunglasses.

He wasn't in 'disguise.’ He wasn’t trying to hide his identity, unlike last night.

Some people looked at him and whispered in awe that there was an avenger in the room, but no one really said anything. He still had his metal arm in his pocket, but it was probably more of a habit than a conscious act.

"Hi," you managed to give a smile. He ran his human fingers through his brown locks of hair nervously, "Do you mind if I…" he pointed to the empty seat in front of you. You tried your best not to panic, "Go ahead."

He sat, a paper cup of coffee on his hand.

Your heart was beating fast, thumping out of your chest. What if he found out it was you? What if he knew? What if he was here to confront your identity as the so-called 'Siren' the news has been talking about?

"Busy day, huh?" You said without thinking, tilting your chin towards the TV.

"Oh, right," Barnes said, pleasantly surprised that you knew who he was.

You had to hold back a sigh of relief. He didn't know it was you. You had to make sure it stayed that way.

"Yeah, I didn't recognize you last night, James," you forced a smile, but it came out sincere, "probably because of the sunglasses, and it was dark, too."

"I don't blame you," he let out a hearty laugh, "and please, call me Bucky."

"Well, Bucky," you said, and you have to admit your mouth liked the sound of his name, "what brings you here?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I come here every once in a while. Best coffee in all of New York," He sipped his coffee again, "and you?"

"Just passing by," you told him. In your defense, it was the truth, to some degree.

"I've been meaning to tell you," he said, and you could've sworn his cheeks turned a slightly redder shade, "you have a great voice."

"Thanks," you chuckled, and this time, you didn't need to fake it, "I try."

"No, really," he insisted, "and your performance was incredible. How long have you been doing this?"

Somehow, this was the beginning of a long chat, way longer than you expected. You were trapped in a three-hour long conversation with the charming man. Little by little, your worries fade away until it completely disappeared. You started enjoying his presence, laughing at his childhood stories as well as telling your own.

Before you knew it, it was four in the afternoon.

"I probably need to get back," he said, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. He masked it quickly with a curve on his lips.

"Oh," you said, followed with a smile, "See you around?" You asked with uncertainty.

"I hope so," he gave you a smile and walked out the cafè. You watched him go through the window, where he gave you one last small adorable wave. You found yourself giggling, waving back.

When he was nowhere out of sight, you noticed a scribble on your napkin. It was Bucky's number, followed with an old fashioned handwriting. 'Text me?'

You did not text him right away. You found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment, frustrated. You had a good time. Such a great time, in fact, that you forgot he was in the middle of hunting you down.

Was it a smart move? You tried to convince yourself that it was a good idea. That this could be one one of those 'hiding in plain sight' tactics. He would never suspect someone he knew, right?

You flopped down on the couch, and grabbed your phone. You already saved his number. All you needed to do was type out the words.

'Hey, James. This is (Y/n). Got your number :)'

You hit send, telling yourself again and again that this was a good idea. It probably wasn't, but you only told yourself what you wanted to hear.

"You seem happy," Sam teased, raising eyebrows at Bucky, who just entered the room. Bucky shrugged, "Maybe I want to be happy."

"Whoa, what?" Sam said. Was this Bucky? Sam wondered, The same anti-social Bucky who only drank black coffee and only expressed his true emotions once in a blue moon?

"What's going on, man?" Sam urged, grinning at his friend's joy, which radiated in his smile.

"You know that bar I've been going to?" Bucky asked. Sam nodded, "The Mermaid- something? Didn't you say you've been crushing on a singer there for months?"

Bucky nodded, "I met her at a cafe," he beamed, "I spent some time getting to know her."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Sam jokingly exclaimed, "Old man Barnes is back it the game, folks!"

Bucky chuckled, hoping to get a notification sometime soon.

A few hours later, his phone gave off a little noise. For the first time in a long time, he couldn't stop smiling.

@thejourneyneverendsx @ispepeagain @magykal-777 @sfxsucker @moli1497 @justanothergirlwithdemons @ciochesono @allonszassbutt @hennessy0274-blog @chubby-dumplin @talk-geek-to-me @sebastian-i-stan @iwishthatiwasbuckysgirl @thelureabove @womanontheedgeofnothing @snugglemedaddy @perrythefrickinplatypus @missursulacalmet @angryknightstatesmantrash

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daemyradaily · 2 years ago

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daemyra appreciation week: day 6 – AU/Canon Divergence ⤷ Social Media AU

#daemyraweek2023 #house of the dragon #hotd #hotdedit #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #daemyra #daemon x rhaenyra #userjulia #usermali #userhayf #dixonscarol #userarjay #jokerous #userlindir #*#nani #gifset #figured it's already tomorrow here so i might just go ahead and post it lol

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curiousdibandbeyond · 4 years ago

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ZADR Revival Week Final Day

@zadr-revival

The theme for today is Procrastination Gauntlet!! I’ve been putting off posting this ZADR fic and today is the day I start it! It’s called Take Another Step and I spent way too long on the first chapter lol

You can find it on ff.net here

or on AO3 here

Had a blast with this ZADR week--first time I’ve participated in a shipping week event and I had fun!

If you want to read it here, I’m putting it under a read more!

Part 1: Are You Okay?

Dib shook his nerves out once more. He had spotted Zim on his way out of the school in the throng of students leaving en masse. He had turned down the wrong street to go home—an oddity that Dib hadn’t missed, and Gaz had groaned about when he pointed it out. Dib figured it was better to get in a fight with Zim than be beaten to a pulp by her. Zim at least would leave him able to wobble home; he wasn’t so sure when it came to Gaz. He only knew she had the hospital on speed dial.

As it stood, Zim hadn’t noticed him yet and Dib intended to keep it that way. He ducked behind bushes and fence posts and trees—anything and everything he could use for cover. With his still small frame, that was easier to do. It was hampered a little by his height. Dib hated to crouch, but years of doing so in the bushes outside Zim’s base had made him adept at doing so in a second behind whatever cover he might have. Dib began to notice that they’d started getting near the park, where the neighborhoods stated to thin out. Zim stopped at the park gate and whipped around, catching Dib in his sights before Dib could duck behind anything. Dib pretended, for his own sanity, that it didn’t just look like Zim’s head had done a near perfect 180 like an owl.

They stood staring at one another in a standoff. Dib was running rapid fire through all his options. He didn’t have a lot. He could come clean and admit he had been following Zim; or pretend he hadn’t been and look like a moron and an obvious liar. He also started to think about all the ways he could dodge Zim’s claws. To his surprise, Zim never made a move against him. He only glared.

A glare that was an assault on its own. Dib felt a bead of sweat drop off his temple.

“Um—”

“You are terrible at stealth,” Zim says. Dib stammers; caught up in the offense of the statement.

“I am not!” he shouts, taking a step forward before stopping himself. He really couldn’t get within range of Zim’s claws. He knew better than that. Zim gave him a look. A Look that said ‘you are a liar’. “…I’m NOT.”

“Perhaps to other humans. I could hear you loud and clear once the noise of the school fell away,” Zim says, waving him off as he turned back around.

Dib blanched at him, starting to follow, but making sure that he kept a good distance the entire walk. It wasn’t particularly unusual that Zim blew him off like that, but it had been a while since the last time Zim had been bold enough to turn his back on Dib without checking somehow to be sure Dib wasn’t hiding a weapon in his pockets. Dib noticed Zim was starting to eye up the trees.

“You’re just saying that because you want me to stop following you.” Dib retorts.

“I do, but no, that’s not why. I recognize your heartbeat,” Zim says blandly. Dib almost didn’t catch that. Almost. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact Zim could hear his heartbeat, much less that he could differentiate it from everyone else’s. It was something Dib was sure he could have gone his entire life without knowing and been just as happy.

“That’s not horrifying,” he says instead. Zim’s antennae twitched under his wig and he looked back with a smug grin. Dib stared at him, knowing that Zim could hear his heart rate pick up slightly, and the bastard of an alien just turned back around without saying a word. “So, what are you doing all the way out here? Are you trying to get lost again? Start an alien cult? Got a bomb out here?”

“None of those things, and you do not need to care. I just wanted to get away for a while. Not that you care to allow that,” Zim says plainly. Dib grit his teeth at the jab. Zim’s lack of raising voice was somehow more aggravating than if he’d been yelling at Dib to leave him alone. Dib was used to Zim screaming at him. He knew how to respond to a screaming alien.

“Yeah, RIGHT. You’re lying.” Dib declares, taking a few adventurous steps forward.

Zim immediately spun around to take a swipe at him. Dib brought his arm up, blocking the majority of Zim’s swipe. The claws caught at his sleeve and Zim gripped the fabric, bringing Dib forward with one harsh tug on his forearm. The fabric that had stopped the claws from tearing up Dib’s arm served next to hold him place. The tightness around his wrist meant he couldn’t just slip his hand out and abandon the coat. Zim’s grip was strong enough that the constriction started to hurt, and Dib wanted to squirm out of the hold despite knowing he couldn’t. He also knew that would only prompt Zim to hold his arm tighter and he didn’t want to start losing blood flow.

Dib kept his free arm away, primed and ready to strike once Zim made any motion towards him. Zim stared at him a moment as if debating if he should proceed. He scowled and shoved Dib away. Dib stumbled, catching himself on the wall of the park, and rubbed at the sore spot on his forearm. It would definitely bruise—he could already feel it. Zim was already walking away from him, running his fingers along the side of the wall. Dib cautiously walked after him.

“Then what are you doing out here?” he asks again.

“Getting some air, as you humans say,” Zim says.

The irritation was starting to invade his tone. Dib was sure his antennae were vibrating under the wig. He would like to see it—it was always fascinating to see the antenna show more of what Zim was feeling or thinking than the alien’s own face or body would ever convey. Zim would make a killing at poker and Dib didn’t believe him.

He was cursing himself for not packing something to use if this happened. It was always a hit or miss when he made the decision every morning. He always kept a water gun in his bag or his coat for emergencies, but he’d neglected to grab anything else that morning. He’d been hoping for a break for a day, and Zim had curiously allowed that up until he broke his usual pattern after leaving school. He hadn’t really been involved in anything the entire day, even suspiciously missing lunch only to pop up in history the next period. As much as Dib hated to admit it, he hadn’t been able to find anything out of the ordinary when he had patrolled the halls over the next few periods when he could.

“Since when do you care to do that?” Dib asks.

Zim’s claws started to scrape against the stone, carving lines into the rock. Zim didn’t answer, walking until he hit the entrance and turned inside. Dib poked his head around the corner, catching sight of Zim already at the tree line. Dib made it most of the way before Zim turned to him. In the shadows of the trees Dib could see the glow of Zim’s eyes past the contacts, just barely poking through. It caused a ‘demonic possession’ type of vibe and Dib stopped in his advancement on instinct. He suddenly felt uncertain. Zim was uncharacteristically stoic and it was throwing Dib off.

“I’m just getting some air. Go home,” Zim orders. Dib stood silent, unable to think of a response. Zim sounded… tired.

Did Irkens need to sleep?

Dib snapped from his musings when Zim had disappeared into the bushes. Dib watched the forest uncertainly. He wasn’t sure if he could trust Zim wouldn’t try to pull something. He waited at the tree line for a few hours before he figured it was safe enough.

He slipped into the bushes slowly, trying to remain silent. It didn’t take long to figure out that he had no idea how to move stealthily among trees and bushes. The branches of both were brushing against him even when he tried to move around them in the most ridiculous contortions. His boots on the leaves and twigs were no better. He really wished he’d packed his tree stand even though it would be of no help in tracking Zim down. It was different than tracking down a Big Foot or another creature that might wander into Dib’s clearing or past his cameras. Zim knew how to avoid Dib by now.

Regardless, Dib kept going straight. He had no idea how to track if Zim had gone anywhere else until he spotted an unusual indent in the bark of the trees. Three to four of the markings were on trees within a similar distance in bathes. Dib saw it bank right and started to follow. He broke out into a deer trail and looked down each direction. To his left he spotted another set of markings. He made a note that he’d have to turn around and go straight again to leave, just to be sure he didn’t get lost, before he went ahead.

He was looking up more than he was looking down. He tripped or stumbled more than once. Finally, mercifully, he broke out into a clearing. Dib stepped back immediately, spotting one of the PAK legs still bent over and hovering in the air just past the center of the clearing. It wasn’t a big clearing by any means. A giant log was off center in it. A small piece of missed history that might explain some of the changed terrain that allowed the grass to overtake the forest floor before any other foliage could.

Dib peeked around the tree he chose to hide behind and saw Zim’s PAK and head over the log’s body as if he were leaning against it. He was looking up at the sky. His PAK’s legs were just poised around him like the dead legs of a spider. It was unsettling to say the least. That said, he couldn’t see any device, any ship, or anything at all suspicious in the field. Dib ducked back behind the tree, ultimately confused. He started down the trail again, noting how it was getting dark. He could check again tomorrow.

By the time Zim had pushed back through the bushes the sky had gotten dark.

Zim hunched his shoulders, the PAK pressing against his back painfully. He let it, clenching his fists more out of the rage he felt as opposed to the pain. He ran one hand alone the stone wall, the claws cutting deep into the stones. He kept his other hand clenched. The pain kept him grounded. It caught his mind and kept it from free falling. Regardless, he started to shake.

~*~

Gir watched him silently. The robot had been bouncing off the walls and screaming for hours now. Zim hadn’t even moved in that entire time. Gir tilted his head. Zim had done this before. He seemed to zone out for hours on end, particularly after bad calls with The Tallest or others in the Empire. The difference here was that Gir could tell Zim was, in reality, intensely focused on the screen in front of him. His claws dug deeper into the metal of the desk the longer the Irken symbol flashed on and off the screen.

The screen had been blank, blinking the Irken symbol as the call was left unanswered yet again, for just as many hours as Gir had been wearing himself down. Typically, if Gir crashed into Zim, he’d let himself fall to avoid any injury to himself or Gir. It was utilitarian—so he wouldn’t have to waste time repairing himself or the hyperactive ball of metal that had flung itself into him. Gir knew that was why Zim let himself be tackled. Gir had joined Zim in staring at the screen when one such attempt at a tackle hadn’t moved the Irken an inch. Zim’s body had bene completely rigid, like a statue. Gir’s momentum, as much as he had built it up, hadn’t caused much in the way of disrupting his Master. Currently, Gir was looking at Zim and wondering if he should do something.

Zim bit his lip until it bled. He didn’t want to admit it.

The call would go unanswered.

~*~

Dib had been acing all his classes, surprisingly. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a genius—he was his father’s son, after all—but rather he was surprised that Zim’s absence wasn’t more of a distraction for him. He was somewhat distracted because it was unusual and that did inevitably put him on edge. A very hard edge that made it feel like his teeth were grating and he was standing on the edge of a cliff. Like the sound of nails on a chalk board and the feeling of weight being taken from him before he plummeted. He hadn’t found anything in the clearing the following morning. He hadn’t found anything in the following day, either.

By Friday he couldn’t take it any longer. If it weren’t for his sensors outside Zim’s base indicating he hadn’t left, Dib wouldn’t have been able to sleep. It was strange for Zim to disappear for days without a peep. It was strange for him to not make a peep the remainder of the week. It was strange and even unsettling that he supposedly hadn’t left his base in all that time, either. Any shift in the alien’s usual behavior warranted investigation. Dib simply had surmised that jumping down Zim’s throat about it wasn’t worth failing out of school.

But; he was free for the day now, and Dib made the walk to Zim’s base as easily as breathing. He didn’t need to focus for his feet to bring him there any longer. He had zoned out, thinking about the myriad of different plans Zim had probably been planning for the last few days, and not popping back into reality until he could see Zim’s base as he entered the cul-de-sac. He tried to calm his nerves. The familiar fear of going into this particular lion’s den was something he never was able to shake. As exciting as it was, it was also a huge risk every time. He knew he might not come out one day. He understood Zim wasn’t un-willing to kill him if he felt the need. Dib was surprised he’d lived this long. He had a fair number of scars to show for their battles. A few from lasers—that his Dad was more perceptive to than the usual odd scar—alongside all the claw marks. The latter he could at least explain away with monster hunting and running into the occasional feral animal. But the lasers’ marks had been harder to brush off. “It was a failed experiment” was luckily enough to get his father to back off.

Dib cautioned himself as he neared the front fence. He saw the gnomes standing at attention as usual. He stuck his foot into the lawn’s perimeter, toeing inside the property line, just to be safe. The gnomes didn’t respond. They didn’t even turn their heads. Dib took a cautious step inside. Still nothing. He took a bold leap, kicking one over and jumping back onto the sidewalk.

Nothing.

That was either very, very good; or very, very bad. Dib wasn’t sure which he would prefer. Obviously if Zim had up and left that meant Earth was safe; but then, Dib assumed the base would be gone with him. So, either the alien had seriously dropped his maintenance duties, had gotten very engrossed in one of his projects, or he was dead.

Dib decided to ignore the wandering possibilities and made his way to the door. He tapped it with his foot and the door swung open without resistance. Dib started to feel a ‘horror movie’ vibe coming on. He knew for most sensible people who watched horror as much as he had, he should have turned and gone home. Dib had already concluded that he was never the sensible type when he’d made the decision to possibly chase an alien for the rest of his life.

He stepped cautiously into the darkened house. The cords leading into the ceiling felt eerie-er than usual. The darkness was a definitive contributing factor to that. Dib felt his heartrate increasing every second he was there. It felt wrong to be there. He couldn’t recall many times that the lights were off in the surface level of the base. He walked inside, praying and praying that it wasn’t a trap of some kind. He’d brought his best tools with him just to be safe, but he could never be too sure. He got as far as the doorway to the kitchen before he stopped. Gir was sat atop the counter in the back corner, away from the prying eyes of any passerby on the sidewalk out front. Dib made his way up to the robot, lifting him up and looking over him. He was powered down, his eyes dark. Dib couldn’t find an ‘on’ switch and so set him back onto the counter. He wanted to study the robot more—for days, if he could—but he didn’t have the time to toy with that for now. He paused, noticing the dust and grime that had been building for the last half of the week on Gir’s body.

That’s not right. Zim’s a germophobe. Did he leave?

Dib hummed disapprovingly. He eyed the toilet and decided against it. If the power was truly out, then it wouldn’t work regardless, and he didn’t feel like going down that shoot. He bee-lined for the side table in the living room. He took it off the tiles, setting it aside. Dib hooked his fingers on the tile, trying to pry it open. It didn’t budge more than a millimeter. He tried a few more times before giving up with a huff and discarding his backpack. He rifled through it, finding his multi-tool. He hooked the point of the knife attachment under the tile, using leverage to pry it open. The hatch clicked when it popped open. Dib had to lift it up, forcing the hinges to snap. He wasn’t paying for that. He set the very edge of his shoe under the tiles, keeping them propped open. He looked down into the shoot, spying only darkness that was occasionally illuminated by a stray light. So, the base did have power. But none to the top floor. He wondered if he’d find anything down the tube, or if that’s all that was left. A tube and some forgotten lights set up with the neighbors’ power grid.

Dib furrowed his brow. He dug into his bag again, discarding binders he didn’t need any longer and grabbed for his grappling hook. He had thirty meters of cable in it, he could get pretty far on that. He shimmied his way into the shoot, securing the hook on the outside, and began his descent. The grappling hook only moved at a set pace when going down: slow. Dib had ample time to take in the scenery of dirt past a transparent walling. Eventually, he did hear a ‘click’ as the end of his cable caught on the line. He looked around, spying a door he could climb up to. He reeled in some of the line, struggling to stand on the tiny ledge that remained of the door’s frame. He used his knife here similarly to the shoot’s hatch.

Dib managed to push the door open, wedging his grappling hook’s body between the doors to keep them from shutting again. If he got lost, he’d just have to find the door with a plastic gun handle stuck in it.

Dib made his way through the lab cautiously. He had turned a few times when he started to see the scratch marks on the hall walls. Only ever down the single hallway, one set with dozens of doors, and none of them the source of the scratches had gone into more than once or twice, based on the amount of scratches that had made a new textured flooring. Some had even dragged up the walls. Dib felt his anxiety spike, breathing becoming more difficult, and his heart pounding in his ears. He took out a coin and flipped it.

Heads. Right, it is.

Dib banked down the hall. He followed the scratches to a door at the very end. It was set open, the light of the button stuck on. The button itself was cracked. Dib swallowed. He was definitely going to die.

Regardless, his dumb brain decided taking a quick peek inside wasn’t going to kill him. Not to mention he’d been caught inside the base before with a pissed off alien. It wasn’t any different if he got caught now. He figured if Zim did manage to beat him in a fight, he’d just launch him out with the cannon. Again. Dib poked his head in and gaped.

The room was, to put it mildly, utterly trashed. The walls weren’t just covered in scratches, but full on gouges in the metal. Several monitors had their screens shattered, the largest had the table thrown into it. The table that had been bolted to the floor, and whose single central leg was wrenched in half to achieve its new position. Wires and cables were hanging from the ceiling, out of the monitor stations, and from the floor where tiles were missing.

The uneasy pit in his stomach sank deeper. Dib tiptoed around the room, surveying the damage. He knew these markings well enough. He’d dodged the PAK legs enough times to be certain of the kind of damage they left on the surrounding area.

Did he get in a fight?

No, that didn’t seem likely. Dib’s sensors didn’t pick up any activity from outside for days. If someone had attacked, they’d have had to teleport in, or shrunk themselves. While he was aware nether feat was impossible, it was improbable. Dib left the room, making his way as quietly but hastily as he could to the opposite end of the hall. This door was also ajar. He spotted the tip of a PAK leg at the door. Instinctive fear bubbled up, but Dib fought it down.

He squeezed his way through the crack in the door and the frame. The room was just as trashed as the one before it. Dib trailed the PAK leg, walking as quietly as possible. It would occasionally twitch, making a metal creaking noise with the effort of the movement. Dib would pause, waiting, until it wasn’t moving any longer. He looked up to see the chair they were coming from. It was swiveled away from him. He could see Zim’s legs from this side.

Dib inched his way around the chair. He could see Zim was slouching in the seat with his eyes closed. Dib bent around the chair. He looked at Zim, leaning as close as he dared—which was about a few inches from his face. Dib smiled, the thought of the opportunity becoming too great for him to resist. He took his phone out, holding it up for a photo.

“I didn’t think Irkens slept,” he murmured. A clawed hand grabbed the other side of the phone, the photo ending up being a very dark image of Zim's palm.

“They don’t.”

Dib shrieked, jumping several feet back. He would be humiliated if it weren’t for the fact Zim seemed utterly disinterested in him. Instead, Zim simply chucked his phone across the room and looked back to the broken monitor. Dib stared a moment. He side-stepped to his phone, retrieving it without taking his eyes off Zim. He cautiously stepped back up to the alien when he didn’t move.

“Zim?”

Zim didn’t respond. Dib couldn’t rightfully tell with the red eyes if he even glanced in his direction. He sauntered up to the alien, his bravado getting the best of him again. He was still sure not to disturb the PAK legs on his way up.

“Zim, I have those handcuffs.” Dib says. Zim didn’t pay him any mind. Dib was lying, but the alien didn’t know that.

Dib did catch a twitch from the PAK leg nearest to him. It was a small twitch, like it had lost its energy or fight. Typically, Zim would have at least hissed at Dib as a warning. A hiss that would forever and always send shivers down Dib’s spine with how unnatural it sounded. Dib acquainted it to a cat and a rattlesnake the first time he heard Zim hiss at him with a real intent to kill or maim backing it up. Zim was deadlier than any animal Dib had come across, as well as a fair number of cryptids, and he had bolted the moment the sound had come out of Zim’s mouth. They’d been in the middle of a fight, but Dib would have been damned if he was going to be dumb enough to die after getting a warning like that. He’d already ruined the latest plans—the fight was just to see who could beat who first. Once he’d gotten home safely he, of course, wrote down as much as he could recall about the entire experience. Theories included.

And he was being a complete idiot right at this moment.

“…I have a water gun, too,” he adds.

Zim still didn’t look his way but Dib saw his antennae twitch. It was a minor reaction; but it was something. Dib did have the water gun. He had even pulled it out of his bag when he announced its presence. It was only about half full; but it was more than enough. The slosh of the water and Dib caught Zim’s antennae twitch and his body stiffen. But, shockingly, the alien didn’t make a move to… move. Dib felt his palms grow sweaty.

“Alright.” He moved in front of Zim, gun forgotten in his hand as he braced on his knees to lean down to Zim’s eye level. The alien looked at him with a blank glare. “Are you sick?”

“…Irkens don’t get sick.”

“He speaks!” Dib shouts exaggeratingly. He cracked a smile at his own joke; but Zim doesn’t react past his lids lowering a little more. He was unimpressed and it was a half-assed attempt at a deeper glare. Dib deflated, putting the gun back into his bag, against his better judgement. “C’mon, that one is classic. So, then what’s wrong with you?”

“…”

“The silent treatment again? You don’t look like you could put up much of a fight right now, either.” Dib said coyly. He looked around the room before adding, “At least, not right now. Looks like you tired yourself out.”

“Days ago,” Zim added gruffly.

Dib eyed him. “Are you depressed, or something?”

“Or something.”

Dib blinked at him. He hadn’t expected a real answer. On top of that, Zim’s tone wasn’t exactly comforting. Dib had heard himself talking like this from time to time. Zim sounded apathetic. Dib’s worry started to shift from his own safety to Zim’s, much out of his control, and fueled by curiosity. Dib rubbed the back of his head, double checking the room again. He shifted his weight between his feet.

“Do you wanna…. Talk about it?” he asked. Zim shot him a look. Dib raised his hands up and let them drop again. “Alright, space-boy, well, I’m not leaving until you do, so. There.”

“…. Enjoy starving,” Zim spits. There was that trademark snark Dib had become so accustomed to. It was still hiding a little; but it was peeking through and that meant progress. Whether that progress was good progress remained to be seen. But Dib was never one to quit.

“Ok, fine. Look, you’re the only person I’ve had regular contact with for years now that didn’t think I was insane—”

“You are.”

“—or actively shut me out for being weird.”

“You are.”

“And yet you still talk to me,” Dib says. “And not just to pick a fight.”

Dib recalled with clarity the nights that he and Zim would be on a rooftop or in the park or on the outskirts of town, and they’d either have tired themselves out or weren’t in a battling mood. The occasions were rare, but they had been becoming more frequent as the years passed. These were nights when they’d just talk, like normal people. Sure, it’d go back to fighting the next day, or the day after if their moods were good. But, Dib like those nights. He got more out of the alien than he ever did any other day on those nights. A lot of it was sub-textual information that Dib had to rely on theories to explain and it wasn’t anything as grandiose as weaknesses or base secrets—but opinions and recounts of basic space travel and Zim’s own life experiences were something Dib found equally valuable and engaging. The topics shifted throughout the conversations and could take hours to conclude. Zim, though he’d never admit it, respected Dib’s boundless curiosity for every topic at hand. Zim had gotten some things of use out of the conversations as well—it was the reason he told himself he kept at them. Though Dib could aggravating, annoy, and often anger him, Zim knew he was also one of the few people on the planet who he could hold a meaningful conversation with.

Presently, Dib was smiling smugly at him, inching ever closer across the line of annoyance into aggravation.

“Hey, I’m right. So, start talking. It helps.” Dib says. Zim eyed him. The PAK legs drew into his PAK, scraping against the flooring. They were uncharacteristically limp. Instead of sitting up to speak, Zim stood and walked towards the door, his back straight in typical military fashion. Dib paused before following him out. “Zim, it really does help.”

“Don’t care.”

“And speaking basic, bare minimum sentences don’t qualify,” Dib adds. Zim whirled on him, just a tiny spark of that energy coming back into his red eyes. They glowed faintly in the dim lighting of the hallway and Dib was adamantly reminded of just whose den he was currently trespassing in. A lump of fear blocked his windpipe for a moment.

“I could kill you.” Zim says evenly. Dib stared at him, acutely aware of the legitimacy of that fact and how he didn’t need the reminder. Plus, he had been pressing a matter that perhaps he shouldn’t have. A fact made clearer when Zim kept speaking. “I could skewer you like a shish kabob and burn your body to ash—until nothing was left. No one would know you’re missing except Gaz. Who, I somewhat, doubt would care. If she does, I could just do the same to her.”

Dib clenched his fists, but remained silent, holding Zim’s gaze steadily. The alien wasn’t moving, still as a statue, watching him back. Finally, Dib slowly started to shake his head.

“No, you wouldn’t.” Dib says finally. He let his body relax, his fists unclenching. He wasn’t about to let Zim goad him into a fight right now. He sees Zim’s shoulders prickle and his teeth start to bare. He wasn’t going to get goaded into a fight if he could help it, that is. Dib continues quickly. “Because then you’d be alone. It’s the same reason I haven’t killed you, either.”

Zim stares at him. Reading him. His lips had started to close, and he turned his back to Dib, stomping away. Dib felt relief wash over him briefly. He could live another day. For now.

He chased after Zim, partly because he wasn’t entirely sure where to go, and partly because he was genuinely concerned about what had caused Zim’s tantrum. He hadn’t even known Zim could wrench a bolted table out of the floor. The image flashed in Dib’s mind and his feet carried him driven by two emotions. Unabashed curiosity and hurt pride.

He’d been holding back on him.

The absolute dumbass.

“Hey. I get that this is probably something you don’t want to discuss, but I’m here for you to talk to me. It’s not like you can go to therapy.” Dib says, jogging up to Zim’s side to keep pace.

“What is that?” Zim asks. There was genuine curiosity in his voice and Dib grasped that little bit of real reaction like a lifeline. He couldn’t really pinpoint why he cared so much. If nothing else, he could distract Zim to some degree. Dib wasn’t sure why he was bothering, given if Zim died of starvation from his own apathetic self just neglecting to eat, it would have made Dib’s job a hell of a lot easier. And yet.

“It’s where people talk about their problems, in basic terms. It helps.” Dib insists. Zim shot him another look and Dib sighed dramatically. “It helps you paranoid bug—”

Zim whirled on him, pinning him to the wall by fists in his shirt. Dib latched onto Zim’s wrists, ready to wrench them away if he had to. He wasn’t sure how on the line Zim was between throwing him out or snapping his neck, either ending after a good beating. What Dib did know was that the claws were poking through his shirt and had assuredly broken skin. It was just another shirt down the drain. Dib opted to deal with trying to ask Gaz to sew it up later and met Zim’s eyes. Two full orbs of red, like bottomless pools of blood, all full of fury.

“And why?” Zim asked, tongue and teeth bare as he hissed when he talked. Dib shivered at the sound. “Why do you CARE?”

“I-I don’t… I don’t know, I just do.” Dib stammered. He gave an experimental tug on Zim’s hands. The fists tightened, only further cementing the early death of Dib’s t-shirt. Dib wriggled against the wall. He couldn’t move more than a few centimeters at a time. His heart rate was starting to pick up the more he couldn’t budge Zim’s grip. He may have to resort to kicking. Zim narrowed his eyes, hissing at him again.

“Liar.”

Zim dropped him, giving him a good kick to the shin before he started down the hall again. Dib clutched at his leg a moment, refusing to whine, as he stumbled after Zim down the hall. The wall was his support as he hobbled after him. He wasn’t one to give up easily, and Zim knew that by now. Dib was also one to push buttons.

“Zim, you’re being bothered by something. Tell me what it is.”

“You do not care.”

“I do,” Dib insisted.

“No, you do not. You can’t.” Zim shot back.

Dib glowered at the back of Zim’s head. He ran up in front of Zim, cutting him off in the hallway by putting a hand firmly on the alien’s chest. The alien’s demeanor didn’t shift very much. He glared Dib down, unimpressed. Given that Dib hadn’t been successful at all to fend Zim off a few seconds prior and that Dib just didn’t have that imposing of a frame; Dib’s attempt to stop him wasn’t that successful. Dib had never ‘grown into’ any sort of obvious muscle. He was still a good half a head taller than Zim—and could always be—but, Zim had learned he was deceptively strong. For someone so slight, Dib could pack a mean punch when he wanted to.

There in the hall, Zim could feel the effort Dib was putting into his palm to keep him from leaning forward to take another step. Zim could easily sidestep him; but that might incur a fight. Zim was just too mentally exhausted to fight. He was in the mood to poster and bluff, not fight. Instead, he reached his hand up, wrapped it around Dib’s wrist firmly, and pulled the boy’s hand away.

“No.”

Zim shoved past him, stopping at the elevator that had Dib’s grappling hook in it. Zim stared at it a moment before giving Dib a different ‘look’. One of abject disbelief with an undertone of annoyance. Dib flushed a little. Zim grabbed the gun, yanking it out and snapping the chord, without breaking eye contact. Dib stared disappointed at the loss of a large sum of money. He couldn’t afford putting in another equipment request to The Swollen Eyeball with his track record. The duo’s multiple encounters had cost the organization a pretty penny already.

Zim hit the button, oblivious to Dib’s future financial woes, and the elevator doors closed and opened again a moment later with the floor ready to take Dib up. Dib looked between Zim and the elevator. He stepped up and hit the button again, closing the door. He bounced out of Zim’s reach, just in case, when the alien stared at him in annoyance. The expression was largely unreadable—Dib would be hesitant to admit it, but Zim’s contacts really did most of the work when Dib was reading how he was feeling—aside from the half-lidded glare. It was also, pointedly, half-hearted. Dib decided to stand his ground. He wasn’t sure what he was wearing down; but a wall was starting to fall and he wasn’t losing this small foothold if he could help it.

“I’m not leaving,” he declared. Zim started to shake. He looked ready to scream and throw punches. Instead he turned on his heel back down another hall. The spark of anger in his eyes was a passionate flare; one that Dib saw be physically suppressed as Zim forced his body to turn. Dib had to jog to keep pace with his strides. Zim wasn’t making it subtle how much he wanted to be away from him. “Zim, I’m trying to help you.”

“And I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want your help. I don’t want you here,” Zim spits.

He hissed low and long as Dib caught up with him. He had half a mind to swipe out and slash the boy wherever his claws happened to land. It would be satisfying, to a degree. But it felt like too much effort. Instead, he just quickened his pace again. The satisfying groan of frustration that followed almost put a smile to Zim’s lips.

Dib was at a steady jog at this point. Meanwhile, Zim didn’t seem perturbed at all. He was keeping up the long stride with no indication that he was going to be slowing down any time soon. Dib had one or two more desperate pleas to make before he would resign to give up and try again another day.

“Zim, I really do think it’d benefit you—”

“Dib, the last person I want to talk to is YOU!” Zim growls. Dib hears the hiss in the very back of Zim’s throat. Setting aside the curiosity of how he managed to growl and hiss simultaneously, Dib instead became acutely aware of the fact that he, once again, was in the perfect position to be murdered. And yet, Zim had yet to do so.

Ah, that glimmer of hope was there, yet.

“Ok, how about this?” Dib began. He sprinted ahead, blocking Zim’s path. “You just have to say one thing.”

Zim’s PAK leg came out, thrusting towards Dib. Familiar fear and the instinct to live was the only reason he side-stepped it just in time to save his shoulder. Zim didn’t break his pace, waltzing right by the boy.

“As I was saying,” Dib began again. “You just have to say one thing and I’ll leave!”

The final words caught Zim’s attention, his antennae flicking in Dib’s direction. His stride finally came to a halt. Dib cursed that superior alien stamina once he was close enough to see that Zim didn’t even seem fazed, whereas Dib was left breathing heavier than he’d like to admit. Zim had his chin cupped in his fingers. He sighed, turning to Dib.

“I. Am. Upset.” He says evenly. Dib stared blankly at him, waiting for more. No shit, he was upset. Dib could have easily guessed that. The PAK leg jutted out, maneuvering around Dib’s head and twisting itself in the hood of his jacket even as Dib tried to dodge out of the way. It lifted him off the ground and Zim started to walk back towards the elevator. “And that is all.”

Dib, now that he was aware he wasn’t going to be skewered, was busy trying to come to terms with the fact Zim had admitting to being upset. Sure, the Irken would curse and scream and throw tantrums when he was pissed. But never had Zim admitted, openly, to being upset. The three-word phrase had never, to Dib’s knowledge, left his mouth before. While Dib had been the one to goad Zim into the, admittedly small instance of, emotional openness it was strange to experience it. While Zim was certainly passionate about many of his feelings, those feelings largely consisted of rage, aggravation, annoyance, triumph, narcissism, or sadistic glee.

“Upset” was not in established the vocabulary. “Upset” was not what Dib had seen before. “Upset” was new territory. Territory Dib wasn’t sure how to navigate.

Zim threw him into the elevator. Dib’s back hit the walling of the tube, knocking the wind out of him, and his senses back in. He scrambled to his feet. The PAK leg hovered in front of him, poised to stab. Dib stood there, staring past it towards Zim.

“You will LEAVE my base. Now.” Zim ordered.

He pressed the button, retracting his PAK’s leg slow enough Dib couldn’t slip past it in the doorway. Dib wouldn’t have dreamed of doing it, as the failure of doing so meant getting stabbed who-knew-where. He let the elevator bring him up to the main floor, the cable of the grappling hook forming a pile as it climbed. Dib gathered the cable up in his arms. It didn’t have to be a total waste of scrap. The elevator deposited him back in the living room. Somehow it seemed more suffocating than before.

Dib trudged to the door. He knew when to let something go. For now. He was going to be back, all right. He wasn’t leaving the alien alone for long as it stood right then.

~*~

Dib had returned the next day, as it were, and noted the gnomes still weren’t active. At this rate he probably could have climbed to the rooftop and taken the Voot for a joy ride before Zim knew what had happened. While Dib didn’t know much about flying the Voot, he had his limited experience in Tak’s ship under his belt. He slotted the possibility in the back of his mind as he pushed the still unlocked door open again. Gir was left where he had been set yesterday. Not entirely a good sign, as it meant in the least Zim still hadn’t turned him back on. The undisturbed layers of dust meant Zim still hadn’t come up at all.

Dib forced the tube open again, resetting the hook to where it had been before and lowering himself down by hand on the cable. He stopped at the same elevator at the end of the cable and repeated the method of entry he had before. He poked his head through. The halls were still dark. Dib looked around, shrugging on his jacket once more. It had a small tear from the tip of the PAK leg; but it wasn’t something worth throwing it away for, given how some of his clothing had been ruined.

Dib explored the rooms, most of which were destroyed similarly to the two rooms he’d found before. He excluded the doors what wouldn’t open to him until finally he spotted the same green head and antennae poking out from a chair. Dib sighed inwardly, walking in without trying to be quiet. The antenna perked up and Zim peered around the chair at him, as unimpressed as he was before.

“What, you thought I’d be gone long?” Dib asked snarkily.

The Irken didn’t respond, turning back around, head on his hand. Dib felt an eye twitch. He forced the chair to swivel around to glare Zim in the eyes. Zim’s leg retracted, kicking out once he was fully turned, landing a solid hit in Dib’s ribs. Dib doubled over with a cough, clutching his side.

“No fair,” Dib rasped. He straightened himself, leveling out his breathing.

“You’re the one who is trespassing,” Zim points out. His voice was gravelly, as if it had been overused. He used his foot to shove Dib away, who stumbled to regain his footing, with a fresh bloom of pain in his side. Zim kicked the chair away as he stood.

The PAK leg hooked itself in Dib’s hood again, twisting to maintain grip. When it lifted, Dib heard the tearing of fabric. The leg had managed to lift him off the ground before the hood gave way and the tear went right through the fabric, freeing him. Dib hit the floor, tackling Zim immediately in a lunge. Whatever funk the alien was in, it was definitely the only factor that aided Dib in successfully pinning him to the ground. While Zim was in a very shallow lean thanks to his PAK, Dib was able to pin down the Irken’s arms. The PAK leg had twisted around, stopping its thrust close enough to Dib’s back that he could feel the tip hovering over his shirt. Dib stared at him, waiting for the tip to pierce his back. Zim looked confused.

Zim seemed conflicted on what to do. He accepted he’d been caught off guard. Dib wasn’t sure if he refrained from striking him down because it meant he would be sprayed with blood, or another reason. Zim’s face was contorting between disgust, anger, and another conflicting emotion that Dib couldn’t quite identify. He really wished Zim was wearing the contacts so it’d be easier. The PAK leg was twitching indecisively behind him, occasionally poking into his back. Dib felt sweat starting under his shirt. He was on thin ice. He just knew it.

Finally, Zim seemed to make a decision as he started to thrash under Dib’s weight.

“GET OFF!” the Irken roared. “You—you’re such a filthy, filthy worm!”

“No, we’re discussing this,” Dib says, ignoring the insult and the kicks to his back. The confidence in his voice was delivered with a quiver that he wished wasn’t there; but he wasn’t giving in. Zim could hit and kick him all he wanted. He had various times before.

And that’s exactly what the alien seemed to be doing. Dib felt his knees in his sides and his back, and it hurt, but he’d endured worse. Zim’s arm reached up, a punch landing squarely on Dib’s jaw. Dib gave a more audible ‘oof’ than he’d’ve liked to, recoiling from the hit on reflex. It was surprising to feel Zim’s own arm bend up to land the hit so effortlessly. It had more weight behind it than Dib thought it would. Dib wasn’t sure he had offered any level of resistance against Zim’s swing, despite how hard Dib had been trying to hold him down. Even with his arms pinned, Zim had thrown the punch with ease. Zim had been going easy on him and it was just insulting.

Dib’s dodge gave Zim just enough wiggle room to try and pull himself from under him. Dib grabbed at his arms again, shoving the alien down.

“Damn it, Zim, it’s just talking!” Dib shouted. He felt Zim’s struggles weren’t the best they had ever been. It was as if the alien’s fight had left him after the first swing. “Would you stop? What the hell even happened?”

Zim sneered at him. He growled, but he stopped trying to kick Dib off. Dib was silently grateful; he didn’t want to explain why he was utterly covered in bruises if his dad demanded to inspect why he was limping later. He could only blame school bullies so many times before someone investigated the frequency. Zim looked away, staring pointedly at the wall. His antennae weren’t flat against his skull, so he wasn’t planning to gut Dib anytime soon, which was good. They were at the angle Dib had concluded meant he was being irritated. Dib would take irritation over murderous intent any day. He let his grip loosen just a fraction and felt a jolt as Zim tried to sit up, taking Dib’s one slip as an opportunity.

Dib pressed him back down. Zim glared at him, snarled even. Dib knew he was capable of pushing him off, and he wondered for a moment why Zim hadn’t yet. Instead, Zim set a clawed hand on Dib’s thigh, right over a major artery. It was a silent threat. A restrained one, but Dib got the point. It appeared Zim had given up on verbal refusal for the moment. Dib looked uncertainly at him.

“You’d get your floor all dirty with my blood, huh?” he taunted.

The words had left his mouth very nearly on reflex at this point. A taunt was something they just did to one another. As if it were a game. Though Dib wouldn’t call this a fight, he would concede that it could very easily turn into one. Point of example was the floor hitting him before the realization that he’d been pinned did. He always just had to push his luck. Zipper teeth stopped inches from gnashing on his neck before Dib had time to properly react. It was the perfect bite—right over his neck and major arteries as he was pinned sideways—and Dib shivered, unable to process why exactly Zim had stopped. He was thanking every God that existed he had; but the confusion remained. On top of the fact that this was perhaps the closest he’d just come to dying by Zim’s hand. Or teeth. Perhaps a few thankful prayers were just good manners.

Zim gripped Dib’s arms strong enough that it was unquestionably going to leave bruises. Dib could even hear the hiss growing in Zim’s throat. The alien leaned down so that Dib could hear him better. “NO.”

Dib had it. He used what little momentum he could gain to try and sit up. The attempt failed and all he could really muster was leaning on his elbows after trying to fight Zim off several times. Zim still hadn’t expected it, coming chest to chest and his head filling the spot between Dib’s neck and shoulder once Dib had managed to secure a place for his elbow and readjusted. Zim had still had his claws on Dib’s arms, the points threatening to break skin when Dib’s shifting body almost threw the alien off balance. Zim leaned away, keeping some form of distance between them, but he didn’t let go.

“FINE. Be that way. Can you at least muster up enough will to live to help me with something else, then?” Dib asked. Zim blinked at him, gone still in what Dib could only assume was confusion. He waited until Zim had stood, brushing himself off, before continuing. The puzzled expression Zim was giving him was more than enough of a question.

“I’m going Big Foot hunting this week. The damage your PAK legs have made,” Dib waved his arms around the room, “would be ample defense while I’m doing it.”

“You think you can just DEMAND anything from me? You’ve gone rotten in the brain, Earth-pig.” Zim says, waving Dib off. He started out of the room, stopping when Dib grabbed him from behind in what would have otherwise been called a hug if Zim wasn’t kicking and swearing at the boy in Irken. As a result it was more like Dib was halfway to wrestling Zim back onto the ground.

“It’s for a DAY, Zim. If I can put this rivalry behind for a day, then surely you can muster the same restraint!” Dib pleads. “I need to do this assignment!”

He also really, really needed backup for this Big Foot hunt. Gaz had already turned him down, his dad was not an option, and he had no friends he could rely on for this. Half of the kids in the clubs Dib was in couldn’t even climb a rope, much less a tree, even if a monster or a bear were chasing them. Dib didn’t want to risk having a mauling of a classmate on his hands. The Swollen Eyeball wasn’t approving it for an official investigation—only a cursory one. His only option left was to go solo; or pray Zim would tag along. It helped that it doubled as a way to keep an eye on the alien. Regardless, Zim protested, heartily, for a good few minutes until Dib felt like his arms would fall off. He had expected that the moment he decided to grapple him from behind. Finally, mercifully, Zim seemed to calm down enough to give a tired huff and slump in Dib’s arms. Dib was grateful Zim had stopped trying to break his arms. He knew he could, easily, if he really wanted to; but, he wasn’t going to complain that he wasn’t.

“Let me go, Dib.”

Dib paused. Zim rarely called him by his name without some tacked-on insult and he realized that the same thing had happened yesterday. Dib let him down, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. He swayed on his heels for a while, unsure in what to do. Zim wasn’t turning to him, his antennae weren’t twitching to listen to anything Dib might do next, and he was staring at the floor with his fists clenched. He just stood there where Dib had dropped him as if he were a statue. It was unsettling to see the utter lack of movement in someone Dib knew was a ball of unbridled energy. Usually. Something was clearly wrong.

Dib figured one last attempt was enough before he’d give up.

“I mean, c’mon. You wouldn’t risk that some other entity would do me in before you could, right?” Dib asked. He watched Zim flinch before going still again.

A prod to Zim’s ego was always a sure-fire way to easily manipulate him. Dib almost felt bad. He didn’t seen another way around it yet, though, so he was willing to risk it. It was idiotic to do so, maybe, and yet he didn’t really care either way at the moment. Getting any kind of reaction from Zim was enough. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done it before. He would insult Zim’s ego and ability to do what he intended constantly in their battles. Particularly when Dib knew he’d won.

Zim turned to him slowly, eyes full of suspicion. Despite that, Dib could see the gears turning in Zim’s head. It was already working. Eventually, when Zim couldn’t find any trickery in Dib’s innocent but snarky grin, he pinched his brow. His antenna flicked about indecisively a moment before settling.

“FINE. Zim will accompany you so that you don’t die before…. Whatever I do to this dirt ball.” Zim says, waving his hand tiredly.

Dib’s smile faltered a little. Zim sounded… tired. Not the physical exhaustion Dib was accustomed to, but a more mental wear that he knew much more familiarly. So much so that Dib knew now was not the time to press the matter. He simply clapped his hands and beamed instead.

“Excellent! I’ll meet you right back here in a few days,” Dib says. He brushed past Zim on his way out.

The alien didn’t react much with the motion, stiffening up once again after the initial contact before his bristles settled, and he just watched Dib leave. He felt something bubbling up in his core and he shook his head to get it to dissipate. Gir ran up to him, falling down at his feet.

“Is Mary coming back?” he asks. Zim sighed.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Is Mary going to make you feel better?” Gir asks, grabbing his feet and swaying them back and forth like a toddler. Zim’s antennae lowered confusedly.

“What?”

“You’re going to feel better!” Gir announced suddenly, jumping up and screaming up and down the blocked hallway.

Zim watched him a moment. He didn’t regret agreeing to go on the trip with Dib. He was certain he’d be fine. It was Dib, after all. Even if he managed to get one up on Zim, neither had taken the proverbial shot and solidified their win in years. Zim hated to admit it—he hated to think about it—but at some point he lost the drive to actually kill Dib. Despite how much he got in the way. Zim just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He doubted he’d have an issue killing any other human—Dib was the rare exception in his eyes.

A rare exception he was about to have pestering him for days.

#zadr revival week #zadr #zadf #invader zim #zim #dib #take another step

10 notes · View notes

izzy-b-hands · 5 years ago

Note

Hey, I was wondering if you could do more sledgefu with the au where they adopted a baby, that fic was so cute!

Of course, and thank you sending this in!!! Tbh, I’ve been wanting to write some sort of continuance to that for awhile now, so this is the perfect opportunity!

Link to the fic mentioned, for those who may not have read it yet: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/188375810681/fictober-2019-oct-16th-listen-no-really

A quick note that I’m bringing all the pets over to this AU (cats: Gunner, Queen, Little Sid, Delilah, and Deacon; dog: Ack Ack) though there’s enough that I can never seem to mention them all by name! But this is just here for reference so if I mention all the animals being in one room, y’all know how many we’re talking lol, especially if I write more for this AU after this piece (and I think I just might have to plan for that!)

Also I jumped ahead a bit so this fic puts their lil guy at about a year or so (aka guess who had to google what one year olds are capable of? This guy!) This also brought back some great memories of helping teach my lil cousins stuff when they were just teensy, so that was cool (because now they’re old and their older cousin aka me is boring to them lol.)

Baby Steps is below the cut! (even tho the cut doesn’t seem to want to work at this time, idk why, my apologies if it doesn’t work again, I’m working on figuring it out!)

“Armand, let Ack Ack go,” Snafu said. “You wanna walk, you gotta do it on your own. You been so close to it lately, too!”

“You think that’s gonna inspire him?” Eugene smiled as Armand let go of Ack Ack’s fur and pouted while Ack Ack walked over to settle on the couch. “Think you just pissed him off.”

Armand dropped onto his bottom and let out a huff of breath. “Pa!”

“Oh yeah, you did,” Eugene laughed. “He’s right though, your papa. You got standin’ down pat, and you can walk holdin’ onto things real good, but eventually you’re gonna be taller than Ack Ack and he won’t be able to help you walk round here. What’re you gonna do then?”

Another huff of breath and a little pouted lip left them both laughing.

“You just gonna live there now, waitin’ till one of us picks you up?” Snafu snickered as he walked over to sit in the chair by Eugene’s. “You can walk to one of us, c’mon. Try for us.”

Armand shook his head, his dark curls bouncing.

“Now, we ain’t raised you to act like that! You gotta at least try once, then you can get carried again. But I want you to keep tryin’, least once a day,” Snafu said, and held up a finger.

Armand mimicked him, then promptly stuck his finger in his mouth and huffed again.

“How the hell is he this sassy already? I thought they didn’t get like this till they were teenagers?” Snafu said, a hand out gesturing to Armand. “He can’t even tell me to fuck off and go runnin’ out with his friends, and here he is, little master of sass ceremonies, grumpy as can be.”

Eugene tried and failed to bite back his laughter. “I think he did tell you that, actually, just in his own way.”

“Probably,” Snafu sighed and shook his head. “Gimme one good try, okay buddy?”

Armand whined and shook his head again, slapping the hardwood floor with his hands.

“I don’t know if it’s gonna happen right now,” Eugene said, and started to stand to go pick him up.

“No, let him try first! He’s pissed, yeah, but maybe he’s just angry enough, ya know?”

Eugene sat back down and nodded. “Okay. So you think he’ll get so mad neither of us are comin’ to get him, that he’s just gonna up and walk all the way over?”

“No, course not,” Snafu replied. “But I bet he’ll get mad enough to stand, and maybe take a good few first steps all on his own, then one of us can go pick him up and we celebrate his doin’ that.”

“...I could see that,” Eugene said. “What do you think, lil man? Got it in ya?”

Armand almost growled, a tiny little screech of frustration, and slapped the floor again.

“I think you can do it,” Snafu said, and the whining quieted some.

“I think you can too,” Eugene added. “All you gotta do is try. Stand up, and I bet you’ll do it.”

Armand’s face was a mix of emotions, confusion and fear and frustration as he slowly used his hands to push himself to standing, unsteady enough that Eugene edged to the end of his seat as Snafu did the same, both ready to run over and catch him.

“That’s my boy! Now get those feet movin’. Don’t gotta be fast, or make it all the way over here, we’ll get to that later,” Snafu said softly. “Just a few good steps.”

Armand whined and let out the softest little sobs as he took one shaky step towards them, then another, before starting to wobble face-first towards the floor.

But they were there in a flash, each holding onto him before he could hit the floor.

“I told you! Didn’t I tell you? I did!” Snafu was ecstatic as he picked Armand up and kissed his cheek. “My boy! Gonna be runnin’ all over the place before you know it!”

Armand’s smile was sweet to see, his giggling even better as he babbled happily.

“We told you,” Eugene smiled, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of Armand’s curls. “And it was fun, wasn’t it? You get better at it, and soon you’ll be raisin’ hell makin’ us chase after you every day.”

“Yah,” Armand grinned, and they both laughed.

“Alright, I said you’d be carried now, and I won’t break a promise to ya,” Snafu said, and started to walk back to his chair.

But Armand kicked his little legs and fussed, and Snafu turned back to Eugene with a grin of his own.

“You wanna try again? Maybe we can help you this time, hm?”

That was their afternoon from there, taking turns letting Armand walk by holding onto their hands, staying close as he tried again and again to take a few shaky steps all on his own. He might not actually be running around like Flash any time soon, but he’d certainly get there, with practice like this.

“The backache is worth it,” Snafu said later, as they put Armand down for the night. “Look at how tuckered out he is.”

It was a good hour earlier than Armand usually went down, but all the walking and standing and stumbling seemed to have worn him right out. He didn’t wake even as Eugene put him into his crib in the corner of their room, only sighed as his head rested on the soft crib mattress.

“He is, and so am I,” Eugene yawned. “Dunno how, but I am.”

“Hard work, convincin’ a little man he can do whatever he sets his mind to,” Snafu murmured and put his hand around Eugene’s waist, his head resting on Eugene’s shoulder. “Plus, the bending over...”

“Oh my god, the middle of my back is just...numb, it hurts so damn bad,” Eugene sighed in exasperation. “I mean I’ll do it all again in a heartbeat for him tomorrow if he wants, anything to help him get a better grasp on walkin’, but lord have mercy.”

“I know,” Snafu replied. “Actually why I’m just stayin’ like this...can kinda lean, we can keep each other up.”

“We gotta move now though,” Eugene said. “Gotta finish cleanin’ up the house before we can go to bed...”

Snafu lifted his head and nodded. “Could do. Or, hear me out, we leave all those chores for the morning, finish the dishes and wipin’ down the counters and whatever else tomorrow, and for now we go to bed before our backs decide we aren’t allowed to stay upright anymore?”

A cramp hit Eugene’s back and he groaned quietly, not wanting to wake the baby. “Okay, yeah, you’ve won me over. Very persuasive today, you are.”

“Think the pain might be doin’ more persuadin’, but I’ll take the compliment,” Snafu smiled as he helped Eugene over to the bed. “You stay put, I’ll go make sure the lights are off downstairs, the furry kids are all settled in the guest room, and when I come back I’ll help you outta those clothes.”

“Snaf, he might wake up...”

“Not like that! I mean, unless you think you can stay up long enough for that, in which case, hell yeah. But I meant more because I could feel that cramp in your back, and I know your ass can’t get undressed without help right now,” Snafu smirked.

Eugene just laughed as Snafu walked out of the room, and he let himself flop back on their bed while he waited for Snafu to return. It was quiet now, just the sound of Armand’s soft breathing and his own muffled mutters of pain as his back twinged.

He’d never trade anything for it though, the moment or his life as it was now, despite the pains big and small that he’d gone through to get there. It was perfect and unique and utterly his and Snafu’s and Armand’s, and that was exactly how he liked it.

#text post #LeeH writes #Sledgefu #ask box things #this is a bit shorter than I was intending when I started #but I hope you still like it!#I'll have to make up for it and write some more snippets of this AU in the future!#funky-little-twinket

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krreader · 6 years ago

Text

BTS reacting to you wearing a sexy Halloween costume.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: language ; sex ; mentions of oral sex ; jimin’s part is a warning in itself, but if you like sinning, go right ahead :’) genre: smut ; crack

a/n: another episode of michelle exposing her kinks I guess, please add it to the list lol. anyways, I didn’t get around to post it last night, so I decided to post this one and the last today. hope you like it ♥

ask box | masterlist | masterlist for original stories | fandoms | faq

kim seokjin

Jin knew you were doing this on purpose. He knew that every time you bent forward, you made sure that he would see what was underneath your costume.. but you made sure that it was only him that saw it.

Because this was for his eyes and his eyes only.

“Excuse me,” he said to another idol friend and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind a moment later, “My car is downstairs..-”

“I was hoping you'd say that.”

And so about ten minutes later, you found yourself in the back of his car, already screaming his name as he was being quite rough today.

Maybe it was the costume..

min yoongi

“But.. that's not really a costume, is it? You're just wearing a nice dress,” Taehyung asked as he looked you up and down, “Why?”

“I'm going as Min Yoongi's girlfriend that he's going to fuck later, so I figured I might just wear a dress that gets him going,” you shrugged, Yoongi taking a sip from his drink with a proud smile.

“Your relationship is kind of weird.. but also really cool.”

You figured there was no point in a costume. It would be off relatively soon anyways and at least you could slip in and out of this dress really easily and you knew it was one of his favorite’s so.. win-win situation.

jung hoseok

Hoseok really thought that going as Harry Potter characters would be fun. He thought it would not give him any weird thoughts. Sexual thoughts.

But even that costume you managed to turn into one that made him hard in a matter of seconds.

“You okay there, Potter?” you laughed as you sat down next to him, your hand rubbing over his thigh.

“How about you and I go into the nearest bathroom and you take care of this for me, hm?” he put a small kiss onto your neck that had you shiver immediately.

“And if I don't?”

“Then I'll have you do it here in front of everyone. The choice is yours.”

The thing is.. you knew he'd do it, knew he’d make you blow him in front of everyone, so you'd rather take the bathroom option.

kim namjoon

Namjoon and you drove here separately. He came here with his band members, you with a friend. So he hadn't seen your costume beforehand. If he had, he would have had a little chat with you about it.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk nudged his side, trying to get his attention since he was so focused on his phone, “Uh.. (Y/N).. looks..-”

“Hm?” and when he looked up, he saw what his younger member meant.

You looked amazing. Sexy, beautiful, breathtaking. Which was nice, obviously. But what wasn't nice, was that every other guy in the room seemed to think so too.

And before any of them could so much as walk over to you, he got up from the couch, wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you towards him to kiss you deeply.

“Oh, hey,” you giggled.

“Stay by my side tonight, okay?”

“Or.. what?”

“Or,” he let his hand wander down, until he could lift up your dress and cup your naked ass, “You and I will go home a lot sooner than we thought.”

park jimin

“We're going to hell for this, I hope you know that,” Jimin pushed you inside the nearest bathroom and locked the door, before he picked you up and sat you on the sink.

He pulled out the priest costume he once wore for a Run episode tonight and because you wanted to at least slightly match his costume, you had decided to go as a nun.. just.. sexier.

And then he started having all these thoughts and, well.. that's how you ended up in this position.

“But it's going to be so worth it, father,” you grinned and it only grew wider when Jimin moaned just from the name itself and kissed you hungrily a second later.

kim taehyung

Taehyung thought a Halloween party meant wearing scary costumes and also slightly ugly costumes. And when you told him you wanted to dress up as the devil, he most certainly wasn't expecting.. well.. this.

“You look so good, (Y/N),” your friend hugged you tightly as you walked into the living room, Taehyung still staring at your ass, “And.. I think your boyfriend seems to think so too.”

It was only then that you turned around and started chuckling.

“You okay, baby?”

“I think we should go back home again, (Y/N).”

“Ah, and why's that?” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “What did you have in mind?”

“A few things,” but the most prominent one was already poking against your thigh.

jeon jeongguk

My god, he really tried to keep it together, but there was only so much he could do when you were running around in that maid outfit.

“Fuck it,” he got up from the couch and walked over to you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you upstairs into the nearest empty bedroom, before pushing you against the closed door.

“I was wondering how long it would take you,” you laughed, but then moaned when you could feel his fingers between your legs.

“Don't complain tomorrow morning when you can't walk,” and with that, he roughly pushed you around and pulled down his pants.

Maybe this hasn’t been a kink of his before, but now you’d have to take out that maid costume a lot more in the near future, that’s for sure.

#bts imagine #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #requests

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ask-svt-hearteu · 7 years ago

Text

neighbor! Minghao

https://ask-svt-hearteu.tumblr.com/post/162640470571/masterlistAdmin note: These imagines might become a fanfic series featuring the reader X a member of seventeen if enough people take an interest!

somehow I see a display of nunchucks and a katana his fireplace mantle?

for scientific reasons only cough

somehow it fits into the aesthetics of his house though?

the coat closet houses skateboards and hats, “what else is that closet for?”

has a surprising collection of wine glasses and red a variety of red wines

cabinets have a dark earthy brown color, kind of a vintage countertop, but modern look overall

renovated either a room or the whole basement into a dance studio

goes skateboarding early in the morning

invites people over for lunch often

isn’t really a neighborhood watch kind of guy or welcoming committee person

but your doorbell rings and you open the door and there’s a bouquet of flowers and the sound of a skateboard fleeing the scene

has enough pillows on the couch to drown a man

the one with an intricate stone pathway in their backyard with lots of vines and interesting plants and a bench so he can sit on it and enjoy the beautiful green canopy of his private rain forest

parkours over all the garbage cans on garbage day and never knocks even a single one over

hosts video game nights, like just dance so y'all can dab at the wrong parts, and overwatch, or LOL

the one crazy enough to buy tiki torches because Jun dared him and nearly set Jeonghan’s cat on fire smh

plays jazz in his house, you can hear the sax solo every Tuesday night

goes “camping” in his driveway with Mingyu, Seokmin, and other 97 liners

pranks by the 97 line

ding dong ditches your house only to run by a few minutes later, excessively dabbing

except Seungcheol scolds them

so they apologize to everyone and bakes everyone cake instead

teaches the kids how to dance/ bboy and how to skate

imagine that cute grin on his face while doing so

leads adventures to defeat the Jun dragon for all the gold hidden (chocolate coins)

wears sunglasses indoors

“Minghao it’s 8pm, can you even see out of those?”

“nope”

broken cat doors and fences are magically fixed overnight with a little note saying, “97 line was here, your payment will be one dab”

flips water bottles onto the roof until they get stuck

and needs to borrow a ladder to retrieve them

but not Seungcheol’s oh no

“should we ask Seungcheol hyung…”

Minghao stares while Mingyu excessively shakes his head

yeah they don’t want to go through that time again

now if someone where to peek outside their door,

they’d see three adults wearing all black creeping down the hallway as if they were in a spy movie

until they reach Minghao’s place where the original plan was to play games until the morning and figure it out then

but then they see “suspicious” boxes stacked outside Minghao’s door

except now it wasn’t just out his door

because right across from him the used to be empty place’s door was being held open by those boxes

but they also saw a ladder being slower pushed into the doorway

“HEY MINGHAO! your new neighbor has one!!! go ask them!”

getting prodded forward, he gets a look at you

who was lifting one side of the ladder struggling

bending down, he picks it up

and you knew you didn’t just get super human strength so you glance up

flipping his hair naturally, Minghao puts on an embarrassed smile

“Hey I️ live across from you, welcome to the area!”

“Thank you!” you say brightly, then nod towards his hands hold the ladder,

“and thank you”

“it’s no problem” putting on that embarrassed smile again, he chuckles nervously

“actually, me and my friends would like to use it right now?”

“Oh!” your eyes widen in surprise

you laugh slightly, smiling

“go ahead”

“thanks!”

and with barely any effort at all, he takes the ladder by himself,

flashing you a small smile before maneuvering his way out your doorway and down the hall

you feel a little weak at the knees

and while you excuse it to the amount of lifting you’ve done

you know a small portion is because of your neighbors most adorable smile

and then there’s Minghao,

letting out a little giggle to himself

because damn his neighbor is cute

“what’s that smile for???” Mingyu raises an eyebrow at his different face

“what? nothing” Minghao shrugs casually

squinting at his face, Seokmin claps

“Ah! Were they a she? a pretty she?”

the both wiggle their eyebrows at Minghao

“Aye why do looks matter?”

walking past them carrying the ladder,

almost hitting them, not on purpose at all

he avoids the question well

so it somehow became who could chug the most

*but she was cute’ he thinks, smiling softly to himself

they manage to take hours getting the many many water bottles of the roof

“what a waste of water” Seokmin sighs, balancing a bottle on his arm

this is where you see three crazy guys on the roof fighting for water bottles

“I️ SAW THAT FIRST!”

“well your gonna have to run for it”

ever seen grown men running carefully and dramatically

its hilarious

what should’ve taken 10 minutes turned into a whole two hours

already night time and sneaking down from the roof

and crowded inside Minghao’s place playing FIFA

“what are you gonna do about the ladder over there” Mingyu calls from the kitchen making snacks of course

“i’ll bring it over tomorrow morning”

“you should bring her food too! as a welcome!!” Seokmin nudges Minghao wiggling his brows

making him shove back, trying to concentrate on the game

“YES! i’ll start making food!!” Mingyu claps excitedly

‘oh lord, this is going to be a mess’

and that’s how he ends up at your door, a basket of food in his hands stacked almost up to his chin

you swing open the door, your breakfast sandwich in hand, still in your PJ’s, hair up into a bun

“AH” you yelp, swinging the door close on reflex

and then opening it again cringing at the way you look

Minghao glances at the corner of your lips,

where a bread crumb lays

“your neighbor, remember me?”

“yes the c-” you smile pausing, still flustered, “the guy borrowing the ladder”

“i see you have it” you laugh slightly motioning to the ladder behind him

“and with a welcome gift”

and grabbing the basket from him, you walk inside, letting him set the ladder down in your living room

“i would invite you to stay but…”

he nods, “you just moved in, your busy i get it”

Minghao smiles backtracking out the door

“i’m right across from you if you need anything”

closing your door, you lean back against the wall,

“oh my god i’m a mess” you whisper to yourself

and smirking, opening the door just down the hall from yours,

he shakes his head at himself

‘nevermind, i’m a mess,’

taking a breathe, and grabbing his skateboard, he laughs

“well, she’s adorable”

you, are well, going about your moving in process,

occasionally letting the cute neighbor run though your mind

who, oh my god, you guys don’t even know each other’s names

taking a break from your many boxes, your run to the nearest convenience store to find dinner

only to find it particularly crowded in the ramyeon section

your eyes wonder to your neighbor, surprisingly

and your reaction is to blast your way outta there

until you guys make eye contact

making Minghao not very subtly leaving his group

“finding dinner?” he asks, tucking his hand into his pockets

“just getting some necessities, like instant noodles”

he chuckles, agreeing

sticking out your hand, “i realized we never introduced ourselves, it’s y/n”

he shakes your hand, “Minghao”

“well we’re kind of past the introducing stage aren’t we” he jokes

referring to your appearance this morning, or the ladder, or both

either way, your cheeks heat up

it feels sudden to you, but he hands you his phone

“let’s exchange numbers, i can help you with your boxes,” he smirks, “or show you around”

“oh?” you, catch on to what he might be insinuating

though your heartbeat makes you want to tell yourself not to read into it

“did you ask her out ye-” Seokmin comes out of no where swinging his arm around Minghao

who elbows him into his stomach a little too late

nevermind, your definitely reading into it

smiling meaningfully at him,

“i’ll stop bothering you guys then” you say spinning around

“you-”

“call me!” you say without turning

Minghao nods, smiling

“how does it feel to be cut off huh” Seokmin huffs, grinning

“how can you smile like that as if we aren’t here huh” Mingyu teases

“quit” Minghao glares jokingly

not stopping the rest of the guys from getting on his case though,

“so when are we gonna hear the story of how they met” Seungcheol smirks

“uhhh”

the three of them say in sync

“gotta blast”

the three of them take their food as Minghao skates away with the other three running behind him

you happen to catch a glance at the three whiling checking out

and laugh, covering your mouth, eyes following them out

‘that’ll be a good conversation for next time’

MASTERLIST

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j-esbian · 7 years ago

Text

Second First Date

happy holidays to @osobhi~ it seems like we had each other for the @mlsecretsanta exchange! I hope you like this! it’s post-reveal alyabug :3

on ao3

Words: 2.4k

Her parents were hosting a party to celebrate New Year’s Eve, and Alya was bored out of her mind. She was the youngest there; none of her parents’ friends had brought their kids, and Ella and Etta were down for a nap before midnight. Her parents had felt the need to start it six hours before midnight, so everyone could have dinner together, and the party was dragging on forever.

It probably would have been a little more bearable if she could leave and hang out with people she actually knew, but she had nowhere to go. After a while, she resorted to sitting in the corner of the couch, eavesdropping on nearby conversations and texting her friends.

From: Mari <3

How’s the party going??

Babe I’m so boredd are u sure u can’t come over

I wish :(( my parents won’t let me though

FuCk that

Wait bu t

I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind if ladybug crashed the party

HmmMmMmmMMmmm

Lmao

No but they’re dragging me to church

At midnight

Gross????

Why cant u just go in the Morning

B/c apparently?? We’re still open tomorrow??

Double Gross

Its ok I will send u a cyber smooch at midnight

Aww <3

Me too

Ugh gtg

Love you Alya

Ily2 mari

I’ll see if I can come by tomorrow

Gotta get me some sugar u know

Oh my goD

Uhh I mean ur dads pain au chocolat

Like ur cute but

Not everything is about u smh

YEAH OK SURE

;)

“Ooh, are you texting a boy ?” someone near Alya giggled tipsily. She looked up, the smile rapidly evaporating off her face.

“My girlfriend, actually,” she said tersely.

“Oh.” He didn’t seem to know what to say, and went to take a gulp of wine instead. He looked down at the empty glass in his hand, then back at Alya, eyebrows raised. He tipped it towards her with a shamefaced smile and sauntered away in search of a refill.

Alya rolled her eyes. She got up and went into the kitchen, where her mother was preparing a round of hors d'oeuvres.

“Oh, Alya. Can you get me the horseradish out of the fridge?” Marlena asked.

“Yeah.” She grabbed the little glass jar from the refrigerator and, while she was in there, nicked a bottle of the twins’ apple juice. She handed the condiment to her mother and surveyed the plates that were already prepared. “Are any of these ready to go out?”

Marlena looked up. “Hmm. Yeah, the vol-au-vents,” she said, pointing. Alya picked them up and headed back out of the kitchen. “Thank you!” her mother called after her.

Alya, however, didn’t return to the party, but took a detour to her room. She closed the door behind her, resisting the urge to lock it, and shucked off her sweater and shoes. She set an alarm on her cell phone--5 minutes to midnight ought to be enough of a head’s up to rejoin the party in time for champagne.

Then she slouched over to her desk and kicked back in front of her laptop. She could still hear the wine-laced chatter and laughter of the party, and slipped on her headphones. Soon, she was engrossed in her computer, and behind her back the hours melted together. She was only pulled out of it, eventually, by two nearly simultaneous events.

The first was that she suddenly realized she was out of food, and when she looked up to confirm that her empty fingers were indeed only chasing crumbs around the plate, she caught a glimpse of her phone screen lighting up in her peripheral vision.

Alya sighed, and scooted in her chair to grab her phone from the pile of blankets it had nested in. To her surprise, it was now a little over half an hour until midnight.

From: Nono

Hey Alya

Wyd

Playing stardew valley wbu

Chillin

U decent?

Like morally or

Pants

Uh why lol

I mean yea but

U got sth planned?

W h a t

Thing

What are you hiding

Nano my man

Ur terrible with secrets

Just come hang out

Ivan’s here

And Alix

Kim’s maybe on his way

Where are u

We’ll come pick you up

Damn thanks

Maybe the real squad goals was the friends we made along the way

Be there in 10

Alya found her shoes and touched up her makeup, humming to herself. She gathered up the remains of her snack and headed to the kitchen. Her mom wasn’t in there anymore, and as she placed her plate in the sink, she heard her parents’ voices in the din of the party.

Her cell phone buzzed with a new text.

From: Alix K.

We’re here!!!

Come otu

im gay

Bitch me too

Come outsid e

Alya ran for her coat, shouting at her parents as she passed through the hallway. “I’m going to hang out with Nino!”

No response. She paused with her hand on the front doorknob and yelled again. “I’m gonna go out with some friends!”

Her mom poked her head around the corner. “Be quiet,” she said in a stage whisper. “The girls are still asleep.”

“Sorry,” Alya muttered. She lifted her hand from the knob and pointed at the door. “I’m going out, though.”

Marlena squinted at her watch in the dim light. “Be back by one,” was all she said. She headed back to the party, and called over her shoulder, “Have fun, sweetie!”

Alya raced down the stairs, and the moment she set foot outside, she was hit by a snowball. She coughed and swiped at her face, trying to see who threw it through the splotches on her glasses.

She heard Alix and Nino laughing, and Ivan said, “Ooh, nice shot.” She finally cleared off her lenses, and saw Ladybug, standing with her friends, and brushing her hands against her legs to hide the evidence of her crime.

“M--Uh, what are you doing here, Ladybug?” Alya asked incredulously.

Ladybug spread her arms wide. “Celebrating!”

Though Alya was bewildered, she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “Don’t you have, like, other things to do tonight?”

“Honestly? No,” Ladybug said, shrugging. “I can’t think of anyplace else I’d rather be right now.”

“Hell yeah,” Nino agreed. “Marinette said you were bored at your house, so we got a crew together. Sucks that she couldn’t come, though.”

“Oh, well,” Ladybug smirked. “Guess she’s missing out.”

Alya stifled a laugh, and changed the subject before it burst out. “I thought you said Kim was coming?”

“Nah,” Alix said. “Turns out he and Max are at a LAN party, so, you know, they might never leave.”

“That’s fair, though.” Ivan scratched his nose. “Did, uh, they say where they were?” Alix glared at him. “What?”

“Never mind them!” Alya said cheerfully, linking one arm with him and the other with Ladybug. She turned to Nino. “Where are we off to?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think that far ahead, honestly.”

They wandered to the end of Alya’s street, looking around. There were people everywhere, and the air around them was full of the sounds of Reveillon in full swing.

“Isn’t your friend’s dad putting on his show at the Eiffel Tower?” Ladybug asked.

Ivan shook his head. “Nah, Mylène’s in Canada visiting family. It’s her dad’s understudy.”

“Still, it could be fun,” Nino said. “Anybody got other ideas?”

They didn’t, so they set off.

Ivan fell back, separating from Alya and falling into step with Alix, and Alya leaned in to Ladybug. “I thought you said you were busy,” she whispered.

Ladybug smirked knowingly. “Come on, Alya, we’re never open on New Year’s.”

“But, then…?”

“I thought we could do something different.” Ladybug leaned into Alya, pressing against her side for a brief second before pulling away again, a coy look slipping onto her face. “You know, something exciting.”

“That sounds just fine to me,” Alya replied.

“Can I just say?” Nino interrupted. “You guys are the worst.”

The others turned around and realized that they had fallen into two lines and Nino, being the odd man out, was left to trail along behind them, alone.

“Aw, c’mere,” Alya said. Nino came up to join her and Ladybug, and she slung her free arm around his shoulder. “There. I got my two favorite people with me.”

“I’m surprised I made the list before Marinette,” Nino commented wryly.

“Your favorite, out of the people here?” Ladybug suggested.

“Okay,” Alix interjected. “That just seems needlessly rude. I mean, we’re right here.”

“Well, shit, man, she’s only got two arms,” Ivan retorted.

“I’m just saying,” Alix grumbled.

“And the sidewalk’s hardly wide enough for five people,” Alya added. “I mean, there’s barely enough space for three of us.”

“I could always carry you if it gets too crowded,” Ladybug suggested.

Alya winked. “Maybe some other time.”

The streets got more congested as they went on, and soon they were forced to walk single-file. Alya led the line, holding tightly onto Ladybug’s hand behind her so they wouldn’t be separated. Alix brought up the rear, but she was tired of trailing behind and jumped onto Ivan’s back instead.

With more people around, Ladybug had expected they would be able to blend in more easily, but just the opposite was true. She kept getting stopped, and people would hand their phone to Alya so they could get a picture. It was infuriating, and after a few blocks they stopped to build Ladybug a disguise.

Alix shed her hat and sweatshirt, while Nino held Ivan’s jacket for him so he could offer Ladybug his flannel.

“It’s definitely too big to fit you,” he said apologetically. “But I figure you can tie it around your waist, because none of us are going to give up our pants.”

Ladybug looked down at her conspicuously crimson legs. “Good call,” she replied, zipping Alix’s hoodie over her suit.

Alya stepped forward and unwrapped her scarf, winding it around Ladybug’s neck. “It’s not much by way of a disguise,” she murmured. “But it really helps pull your whole outfit together, I think.”

Ladybug nuzzled into it. “Mmm. Soft.”

“And you’d better take good care of this,” Alya said sternly. “My girlfriend made it for me, got it?”

“Well, it’s nice.” Ladybug winked. “She’s got great taste.”

Alya crossed her arms and smirked. “Uh, hell yeah , she does.”

“Anyway,” Nino interrupted, glaring pointedly at Alya. “I don’t have anything to give you, because apparently I’m a delinquent. Best I could do is a hat, but you’ve already got that covered, so… We should keep going if we want to get good seats.”

They forged on, although the icy sidewalks and tightly-knit crowds seemed to want to separate them at every opportunity. Alix jumped back up on Ivan’s back, and used her perch to peer over all the people and find a clear path. Ladybug jumped and reached for Alya’s hand when someone spoke, but they weren’t addressing her.

“Hey, kids, it’s cold out. Where are your coats?” a stranger called out.

“Your mom’s house,” Nino and Alix shouted in unison. He reached out behind him, and she high-fived him.

“You know,” Alya whispered to Ladybug, “I think Nino’s upset with us for flirting with each other.”

“What? Why?”

Alya tapped her thumb against the big black spot on the back of Ladybug’s hand. “Gee, I don’t know.”

Ladybug wrinkled her nose. “Oh! Aw. He’s trying to defend my honor.”

“Yeah, and he thinks I’m a slut,” Alya pouted. “Oh, well. I guess I do have a type.”

“Hmm,” Ladybug agreed. “Or, everyone just loves you.” She leaned in to kiss Alya on the cheek.

Alya snickered and danced away, as far as she could without letting go of Ladybug’s hand. “Sorry, Ladybug,” she said, clutching dramatically at her chest with her free hand. “But my heart only belongs to one girl.”

“I, however, am incredibly single,” Alix piped up.

Nino rolled his eyes. “Anyway,” he said loudly, “I’m not sure we can snag enough seats next to each other. We might have to split into a few rows.”

Alya looked up in surprise. “Oh, wow. We’re here.”

“That, my friend, is the beauty of the travel montage,” Nino replied.

The show was in mid-act when they arrived, and was much more than a one-man performance. While the mime was there, and he was center-stage on the ground, the air behind him was full of twisting acrobats, on invisible wires and banners of purple and gold, suspended from the Tower itself.

Ladybug kept Alix’s hoodie and Alya’s scarf, but returned the other pieces of her disguise to their owners. They managed to find a cluster of seats, and Alya and Ladybug were finally--relatively--alone. Ladybug rested her head on Alya’s shoulder and laced their fingers together.

“Hey, Marinette?” Alya whispered after a few minutes. “Don’t you think this is maybe a little… I don’t know, dramatic?”

“I think that’s the point,” Ladybug whispered back, watching the mime wrestle with an acrobat some 10 meters above him.

“No, I mean.” Alya waved her hand, trying to encompass the whole convoluted scheme. “Why was Ladybug out tonight? Why did Marinette pretend to be busy? Why not just come hang out without all the fuss?”

“Honestly?” Ladybug looked up at Alya, wincing slightly. “It’s kind of a publicity stunt.”

“Huh?”

Ladybug was quick to amend her statement. “That is to say, we’re just showing people we’re around even when there’s nothing really going on. Like, you know, we’re people, too.”

“In like a ‘don’t do crime because we’re always watching’ way?” Alya asked.

“More like a ‘friendly neighborhood superhero’ thing,” Ladybug suggested. “Chat’s off somewhere too, probably hanging out with his friends. Anyway, I get to do my civic duty and take you on an awesome first date.”

“I’ve literally lost track of how many dates we’ve had,” Alya said. “But this is definitely not the first.”

“You’ve never been on a date with Ladybug before.”

Alya laughed. “It seems like you’re just splitting hairs.”

“Listen, our real first date was just a study date,” Ladybug countered. “I think it’s natural to want a second shot at that.”

Alya hummed in agreement. “Well, then, this is absolutely an improvement.”

“Yeah?”

As if in confirmation, a spray of fireworks shot out behind the Tower, framing all the performers with a backdrop of red and gold sparks as they launched into their grand finale routine. In the distance, the bells of some unseen church chimed midnight.

“Yeah.” Alya slipped her hand under Ladybug’s chin and rubbed her thumb across her cheek.

Ladybug leaned up to peck Alya on the cheek. “Happy New Year, Alya,” she murmured.

“Happy New Year, Marinette.”

#miraculous ladybug #mlsecretsanta 2k17 #alyanette #alyabug #osobhi #chickenscratch

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