#the contacts. the WIG. regret to say i would still smash

[centurysong]

shout out to my body for waking me up at fuck o'clock in the morning because it let me catch the funniest fucking mcr stream so far

[artificialqueens]

Little Lights [Chapter 1] (Trixya) - mrgtmcs

A/N: Hi pals, this is a first time post from a longtime lurker.  This will be a canon-compliant multichapter because now I have invested myself.  I fully wrote this on my flight to Israel and was half asleep so apologies in advance.  Also also, I promise 

The music in the venue started to fade, and Katya had already walked offstage, holding heels in one hand.  He tiptoes back to the dressing room, sliding past the propped open door.

“Hello,” Trixie practically sang as he spun around in one of the chairs. 

“That was awful,” Katya responded, grabbing at his curly blonde wig and sliding it off his head. “No.  Worse than awful.  Deplorable.”

Trixie tried to stifle a laugh.  “Alright, drama queen, calm down.”

Katya was rapidly de-dragging, back turned to Trixie.  “I didn’t know any of the lyrics.  None of them!” he shot back in rapid fire, tugging at layers of tights.  He turned around to face Trixie again.  “And it’s a song I’ve done FOR YEARS! But today of all days my brain went, ‘No Brenda, we are not going to give the people what they PAID to see.”  Katya took a breath and stuck a baseball cap on his head. 

Trixie gasped and said, in mock horror, “Oh no, not a sequel to Glamazonian Airways!”

Katya laughed wildly.  “Shut up, you cunt,” he shouted, reaching past Trixie to pick up a pack of cigarettes from the table.  Gesturing towards the door, he asked, “You coming?”

“I will watch you from the door,” Trixie said.  Katya extended his hand to Trixie, and as he stood up, Katya pulled him into a hug. 

“I love you, bitch.”

“You too, incompetent whore,” Trixie laughed.  He kissed Katya’s forehead quickly.

Katya pulled out a cigarette from the pack and held it between his fingers.  “Mother, I’m going to increase my chances of lung cancer again.”  He squeezed Trixie’s shoulder and Trixie followed him outside.

It was pitch black outside the club, Katya’s face, still fully painted, illuminated only by the momentary flicker of his lighter.  “Do you ever think,” he started, pausing to take a drag from his cigarette.  “About, like, changing your name and getting a full face transplant and, like, starting over as an ER nurse or something?”

Trixie was watching him from the doorway, a smile appearing across his face.  “I don’t think you can just go get a face transplant,” he said.  “Isn’t that just for, like, burn victims?”

“Dollar bills, mama,” Katya responded. 

“Also do you personally believe you have an aptitude for a medical profession?” Trixie started.  “Because I’ve seen you try to do math and I don’t think you’d be much of an asset.”

Katya laughed loudly.  “You know what I mean, Tracy Martel, now answer the question!”

Trixie looked directly at him and smiled.  “Sometimes,” he said. 

Katya paused, taking another drag.  “We should, you know,” he said.  “One of these days.  Just be Brian and Brian, ER nurses.  Or Stanley and Charles, or whatever.”

“Who are you? Charles?” Trixie asked incredulously.

“Obviously,” Katya responded as he walked closer to Trixie. 

“Excuse me, please keep your fumes over there,” Trixie said, placing a hand on Katya’s shoulder.  “I enjoy my clean air.”

“I just wanna stand next to you, bitch!  Is that such a crime?” Katya shouted.

“When you’re infecting me with your toxins, yes,” Trixie retorted

Katya dropped the half-finished cigarette and smashed it beneath his shoe, making sudden eye contact with Trixie when he looked up.  “Better?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Trixie responded.

Katya sidled up to him and rested his head on Trixie’s shoulder.  He felt fingers gently grip the side of his waist, and he could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears.  They stood in silence for a moment, staring out at the empty lot.  “Guess we have to do this all over again tomorrow,” Katya said, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah, Maria, not like it’s our job or anything,” Trixie said, gently bumping Katya with his hip.

“I know,” Katya said, letting out an exasperated sigh.  “Just let me complain a little longer.  If I don’t get to bitch about my amazing life sometimes, I think I’ll go crazy.”

“Oh, it gets worse?” Trixie laughed.

“You are a rotted bitch, Trixie Mattel,” Katya said, shoving him lightly.  He took Trixie’s hand and asked, “If I’m bored later, will you come over?”

Trixie feigned exasperation.  “How far will I have to walk?”

“Several doors perhaps, and I’m offended you would even dare ask,” Katya said, pulling Trixie’s hand close to his chest, fingers intertwined with his.

“In that case I will consider it,” Trixie said. 

Katya stepped in closer to Trixie.  “Can I have a small kiss, mama? For old time’s sake?” Katya asked.

“What old times are you referencing?” Trixie laughed.  His hands had already migrated to Katya’s waist, and Trixie pulled him in slightly until their lips met for a brief moment.  It was nothing they hadn’t done before, but Katya felt suddenly like the wind had been knocked out of him. 

They suddenly heard the voice of the tour manager, Andrew, a few feet away, and Katya felt the moment get yanked away faster than it could begin.  “Everyone’s already on the bus, guys.  We’re trying to head out.” 

“We’re coming in a second,” Trixie shouted back, shooting Katya a knowing grimace.  “Oops,” he whispered. 

Katya quickly kissed Trixie’s cheek while he still had the chance.  “To the bus we go.”

 -

Once they got on the bus, Katya fell half asleep, head in Trixie’s lap.  He could feel Trixie’s hand lay haphazardly on his shoulder.  He was afraid that moving even an inch would disturb the delicate placement of Trixie’s hand, his fingertips a comforting presence against Katya’s bare skin.  Katya didn’t want anything to upset the fragility of the moment.  He didn’t want anything to jolt Trixie back into overthinking, didn’t want him to wonder if this was okay.  He just wanted to stay there in that moment, no words needed, time suspended.  Eventually, though, the bus came to a sudden halt in front of the hotel, and the spell was disrupted.  Katya opened his eyes and rolled over to look up at Trixie.

“Hey sleepy,” Trixie said softly. 

Katya was in love with the way Trixie’s hand lingered on his chest.  He took a breath and paused for a moment.  “Brian?” he whispered.  Trixie looked at him and grabbed his arm to let him know he was listening.  “Promise me you’ll come over tonight?”

Trixie laughed a little.  “Alright,” he said. 

Katya stood up and started to walk towards the door.  “Okay, well I’m holding you to it.”  As they both went inside and got in the elevator, Katya scanned Trixie’s face for some clarity.  Blank.  Nothing.  The elevator came to a sudden halt on the fourth floor, and Katya poked Trixie’s ribs.  “409 bitch,” he said.

“See you in thirty?” Trixie asked.

“I will be anxiously awaiting your arrival.”  Katya turned down the hallway and heard Trixie’s footsteps trailing away in the other direction.  When Katya finally got to his room, he was on autopilot, standing in the bathroom immediately waiting for the shower to warm up.  His makeup had smeared, leaving trails of black on his cheeks.  As he undressed quickly, he stared in the mirror for a little too long, regretting his decision to forego a tan this weekend.  Prodding at the contours of his pale abdomen, he felt suddenly out of sorts. 

He and Trixie had hung out in each other’s’ rooms countless times.  They always had a more or less open-door policy, and Katya had shown up to Trixie’s apartment more than a few times unannounced.  Trixie was always up, sitting on his couch, and he’d always motion to Katya to sit down next to him, and he’d slide over and put his head on Trixie’s shoulder.  What are we watching?  Katya would ask, like he was home.  Trixie would hand him the remote and say, Your choice.  Eventually he’d fall asleep on the couch, and Trixie would cover him with a blanket and go to bed.  He’d let himself out as soon as he’d become sentient again, awaking suddenly to a dark room on a too-familiar couch alone, calling an Uber home at 3AM like a pseudo walk of shame. 

Katya’s stream of consciousness was interrupted by a sharp double knock on the door.  He quickly turns to shut off the shower, frantically looking for a towel.  “Uh, just a second,” he shouted, struggling to dry off as quickly as possible.  How long had be been in there?  Katya shuffles towards the door, t-shirt only halfway on, and emerges to see Trixie completely de-dragged in an ex-white merch t-shirt. 

He took a look at a dilapidated Katya and, already walking into the room, said, “You’re shirt’s on backwards, bitch.” 

“Well, I’m sorry that you require perfection, but some of us have been a little too busy with our shower thoughts to pay attention to these details,” Katya said, sliding his arms out of his t-shirt and flipping it around to the front. 

“Shower thoughts? Anything particularly sordid you’d care to share with the class?” Trixie asked, tossing himself onto the bed.

“Oh, I wish,” Katya responded, rubbing his soap-irritated eyes.  He looked over to see Trixie eyeing him expectantly.  “No, no.  Nothing interesting.”

Trixie was already messing with the TV settings as Katya sat down next to him, his tense, upright posture a juxtaposition with Trixie’s relaxed sprawl.  He suddenly didn’t know how to act normally.  “Do we have Netflix capability? Or is it gonna be a cable TV infomercial night?”

“Uh, probably the latter unless you can figure it out—”

Trixie’s phone buzzed and she interjected.  “Oh, Alaska’s staying in 412.  I told her she could come over. That’s cool, right?”

Katya’s shoulders sunk a little.  “Y-yeah, yeah that’s fine.”  His entertainment of the idea that maybe there was a hint of something else in the air tonight was promptly smashed to pieces.  He was suddenly feeling very antisocial.

Trixie was still flipping through channels on the TV, and Katya, now devoid of the pressure of expectation, flopped onto his back.  He felt Trixie’s fingers grab his shoulder suddenly.  “Bitch, look at what’s on in two minutes!” he shouted with much more energy than Katya could muster at that point.  Katya sat up a little.  “Heathers, Brenda.  We have won the late-night hotel cable TV lottery.”

Katya smiled.  “Alright, well you know what to do,” he said, gesturing at the TV.  He popped up for a moment.  “I’m going to retrieve a Red Bull from my stash.  You want one?” he asked, already across the room digging through a drawer.  “I have multiples,” he said with affectation, a dumb grin on his face.

“It’s almost midnight,” Trixie protested.

“And when have you let that stop you?”  Katya asked, tilting his head and flashing a smile at Trixie.

“Alright.” Trixie responded, and Katya danced back over to the bed, placing a can gingerly in Trixie’s hand. 

“You’re welcome,” Katya said sarcastically.  Trixie bumped him with his shoulder.  For just a moment, Katya let himself think about those nights at Trixie’s. 

Then Alaska knocked at the door, and Trixie paused the movie.  Moment over.  Trixie got up to answer the door.  “I really hope I wasn’t interrupting any hand fun between the two of you,” Alaska said in a long, overdramatic drawl.  Katya watched from the bed awkwardly.

Trixie laughed.  “You awful cunt.” 

He walked in and eyed Katya.  “Alaska Thunderfun, what ever are you doing here?” Katya asked in a theatrical voice. 

“To relieve my dreadful boredom, of course,” he responded.  “How was your show, mama?” 

“She said it was awful, and I don’t believe it,” Trixie interjected. 

For a fraction of a second, Katya shot him a glance of rare sincerity.  He hoped that Trixie got it.  “It was awful.  Point-blank, period.  No exaggeration.”

“Well why? I’m on the edge of my seat,” Alaska asked, sitting down on one of the armchairs. 

“Okay, well one, I didn’t remember a single word to the song.  Which was horrifying and bad because I don’t think I even managed to sell it. And two—”

Trixie cut her off.  “It’s a song she’s performed for years, and then tonight for some reason—”

Alaska jumped in.  “Oh my god, my favorite married couple.  Are kids on the way?” he said mockingly.

“SHUT UP!” Katya squealed in, thrashing his hands around in the sheets.

“I can’t help it that you two are disgustingly adorable, just casually finishing each other’s sentences.  Gross.”

“Girl, don’t be jealous of me and my work wife.”  Trixie said.  Katya poked his leg and for a brief split second, he could have sworn he saw something in Trixie’s eyes that was different.  It was something; it had to be.

“Oh speaking of which, girl, what ever happened to that gorgeous man from last night?” Alaska asked.  Was it nothing?

“Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much—” Trixie started.

“Oh my god, you did?” Katya asked, attempting to find the right tone to mask his jealousy.

“No, we didn’t.  Well, I mean, not that.”

“Oh, so you—” Alaska holds up her fist and mock-fellatiates the air. 

“Maybe.” Trixie said quietly, pulling his chin in closer to his chest.  “But you know that I’m not about to go all the way with a man from the club in the same night.  I am not that kind of girl.”

“Okay, Miss Mattel, thank you for the shade,” Alaska said.  He looks at the TV, the semi-blurred opening scene of Heathers still paused.  “So what are we watching tonight?” 

“The magic of Heathers has graced the hotel TV this evening.  We just started it before you got here,” Trixie said.

“Well onwards, ladies, let’s get it going,” Alaska said.  He stayed in his armchair while Trixie climbed back into bed with Katya.  “No funny business, you too.  Mother is watching,” Alaska joked.

As Trixie unpaused the TV, Katya became distracted by monitoring Trixie’s presence out of his periphery.  Trixie and Alaska would ever so often interject commentary during the movie, but Katya was uncharacteristically silent.  He waited to see if Trixie moved closer, if he turned his hips away, if he was looking back.  Slowly, Katya attempted to inch closer.  He figured if it was done at glacial speed, maybe Trixie wouldn’t even notice.  Maybe it would seem like an accident.  So she counted every few minutes and slid another inch or two closer.  The neurosis of it was pure agony, and with every passing moment of Trixie’s signals failing to provide relief, Katya was beginning to feel like a petulant child. 

The credits rolled, and Alaska got up.  “Alright, I should be heading out.  I have got a major early morning tomorrow,” Alaska said, rising from the chair.  He walked towards the door and grasped the handle.  “See you guys at breakfast tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes, girl, for sure I have to get those pancakes from downstairs,” Trixie said.  Katya just nodded.  Alaska shut the door behind him. 

Katya had the sudden realization that he had fully migrated probably an entire foot.  So much for subtlety.  Their arms were close enough that they would be touching if either of them moved a millimeter.  Katya turned on his side, and Trixie started to sit up. 

“You don’t have to go,” Katya said softly.  “I mean, if you don’t want to.”

“You sure you don’t wanna go to bed?” Trixie asked.

“You should know by now that your presence does absolutely nothing to affect that,” Katya reassured, gently grasping Trixie’s wrist. 

“Well lucky for you, I am completely wired from your Red Bull from earlier,” Trixie said, sliding back underneath the covers. 

Katya laughed and said, “Then my plan was successful.” 

Trixie passed the remote to Katya.  “Your turn,” he said.

Katya started scrolling.  “So who was the guy from the other night?” he asked, realizing it came out sounding a little more controlling housewife than he was intending.

“Oh him? I have no idea.”  Trixie’s tone luckily didn’t seem to imply he had read this as accusatory.  “His name was Dan or Dave or something like that.  Very much what I’d classify as a drunk decision.”

“Gotcha. Well that’s fun, I guess,” Katya responded, a little too seriously. 

Trixie paused for what felt like an eternity and looked at him.  “What?” he asked.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Katya asked.

“What is this reaction you’re having? ‘Well that’s fun, I guess’? That’s not how you talk and you and I both know it,” Trixie pressed. 

Katya felt exposed, all of a sudden.  With no rehearsed heart-bearing statement, he said, rather anticlimactically, “No, no, sorry, I just was reading something on the TV and wasn’t paying attention.”  He took a breath and tried to sell it further.  “No reason to panic, Mother,” he said in a jokey cockney accent.  Trixie seemed to accept this response, but Katya secretly wished she’d pushed more.  He just needed another moment to think of how to frame what it really was.  He wasn’t even sure he could put it to words right then.  It was all too much feeling and too little logic to relay.  Katya tried to change the subject.  “Cops?” he asked.  “I think it’s as good as we’re gonna get this time.”

Trixie seemed distracted.  “Uh, yeah, it’s your call.  Whatever you want.”

Katya put it on and relaxed back into the bed, sliding a little further away in a weak attempt to conceal his motives.  Almost without missing a beat, Trixie moved in closer, so much so that their arms were suddenly touching.  Katya felt his breathing get faster, it was all too much and he almost couldn’t function.  He resounded to not react, taking every bone in his body and willing himself to not move one way or the other.  He wanted to see what Trixie would do without any of his own influence. 

Katya was nearly stressed by the inaction.  They remained like that for minutes on end, nobody making a single move.  He tried to watch Trixie from the corner of his eye, but he was watching the TV.  He felt his palms sweating, wondering how he could be so overwhelmed and Trixie could be watching TV with the inner calm of a monk.  But before long, Katya felt fingers running along his wrist.  The touch was tentative devoid of any reason or context.  This was a sign, right?  Katya took it as encouragement enough to lean her head into the space between Trixie’s shoulder and his jaw.  “Wait, sit up for a second,” Trixie said.  Katya felt a sinking feeling.  Did he cross the line?  Was this too much?  He thought he was just following Trixie’s lead.  Trixie moved his arm so it hooked around Katya’s waist.  “Okay, all good,” he said reassuringly.  He pulled Katya in closer, and Katya felt his cheek brush against Trixie’s.

There was always a line they never seemed to cross, even though it seemed to get blurrier and blurrier with time.  They never went beyond the point of no return, beyond the point where they’d actually have to talk about it, where it couldn’t just be chalked up to a platonic intimacy.  Katya was never really sure where this line was, but Trixie always seemed so sure of it.  His boundaries were always so defined to him, even if they seemed unclear to Katya most of the time.  But from experience, Katya learned.  They could snuggle in the same bed all night as long as they didn’t sleep together, and they could share quick kisses if it was mandated, but they never, ever lingered.  Anything beyond that could upset the delicate balance of not having to talk about it.  Even Alaska’s comments could make Katya jump, like he’d just peered at the X-ray of his innermost thoughts that he didn’t dare voice.  Katya always assumed Trixie didn’t have any questionable thoughts that Alaska’s jokes would threaten to illuminate, since he always managed to seem so collected.

Katya wasn’t even pretending to watch the TV anymore, his eyes enamored with studying the contours of Trixie’s face.  Trixie remained seemingly oblivious.  “You know, if I were running from the cops, I don’t think I’d bring my crack pipe with me,” he said, laughing a little.  He looked over at Katya, his lithe body practically melted into Trixie, and his face was so close that Katya could feel the warmth of his breath against his skin, making his stomach flip over.  Trixie raised his eyebrows at him. 

“Yes, yes, totally agree,” Katya said absently.  He traced the perimeter of Trixie’s jawline with his index finger, then ran it along the bridge of his nose.  “You have a cute nose, you rotted whore.  Just thought I’d tell you.”  He whispered it so gently that it was almost too intimate. 

“You are a strange one,” Trixie said.

Katya traced the curve of his bottom lip.  “Brian, uh—”  Trixie was looking at him again.  “Would you, uh, get mad if I kissed you right now?” 

Trixie laughed again, but Katya was dead serious, his face almost concerned.  So Trixie didn’t answer immediately.  He turned onto his side and place his hand on the side of Katya’s face.  “I’d get mad if you didn’t.” 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Trixie brought his lips to meet Katya’s.  But this time was different.  He didn’t pull away instantly, didn’t make a joke to diffuse the tension, didn’t stop it before it began.  They lingered, Trixie’s breath hot and heavy against Katya’s face.  Trixie’s tongue brushed Katya’s lips, and it instantly intensified until the weight of Katya’s body was pressed on top of his.  Hands wandered underneath t-shirts, feeling warm skin against skin.  Trixie’s fingertips raked across Katya’s back until he reached towards the waistband of Trixie’s jeans.  “Wait,” Trixie said, near-breathless.  “Don’t.”  Katya looked up at him with wide eyes, half-surprised, half-disappointed.  “This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”  Katya rolled off Trixie and flopped onto his back, facing a separation that felt like it could’ve spanned oceans.  Still fully clothed, he felt more naked than ever before.  He wanted to crawl into the shower and wash the feeling off.

Trixie was already up and heading for the door.  He didn’t even try to diffuse the situation, his words just sat there with their jagged edges, cutting into Katya with every moment he still stood there.  Katya didn’t even try to come up with a response.  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Trixie said as he closed the door behind him, his inflection at the end making it seem more like a question than a declaration that things would go on as normal.

[dib-shit]

Zim Takes a Fuckin’ Nap

Word count: 2.9k

Pairings implied: ZaSr, TaTr (very subtle), DaGrr (Dib x Gretchen). All can be seen as platonic too.

Warnings: Quite a bit of swearing but nothing derogatory, and a quick reference to furries, courtesy of Skoodge’s fashion taste.

Characters: Zim, Skoodge, Dib, Gaz, Tak, Gretchen, and Gir

Synopsis: Zim’s feeling pretty out of it, huh? Maybe he needs sleep. Wait, Irkens don’t sleep, do they? 

A/N: I originally started this while at the DMV waiting to get my first ID. It’s way longer than it should be, especially since I only wrote it so that Zim could say one thing. Anyway, hope you like it I guess. It’s my first fanfic I’ve ever published, even if it’s a shitpost so here goes nothing. Criticisms welcome if you have ‘em! 

_________________________________________

Five years. It’s been five years since Zim came to this hell hole of a planet. Five years since Zim began his never-ending attempts to hold this planet in his grasp. Five years since Zim met his absolute worst enemy. Four years since Zim discovered he was living with his best friend. Three years since his best friend attended Skool with Zim. Two years since Tak came back to Earth. One year since Zim’s worst enemy became his worst friend… one year since Zim discovered the truth about his mission.

Zim, Skoodge, Tak, and Dib were all attending the same shit hole Skool in their Junior year. One more year after this and none of them would ever have to bother with this nonsense again. Except for Dib. Apparently, he has plans for more education after what was legally required. Zim didn’t get this. The Dib was already a moron, there was no fixing that.

Zim also didn’t understand why Tak was even bothering on coming. She even completes every assignment with flying colors. What was the point? Irkens already had their education jammed into their PAKs moments after hatching. Unknown to Zim, Tak was actually trying to distract herself with skoolwork from something that was eating away at her from the inside. But that’s a whole other story.

Zim groaned as the History teacher droned on about whatever it was he talked about. Dib had shown him in the past that human history isn’t as boring as it seems, it’s just that the education system cuts out a lot of the interesting and sometimes crucial information. So far the only thing Zim gathered from this class on “U.S. History” was that a particular breed of humans were the absolute worst of all of them. These humans had a history of taking whatever the hell they wanted from others, and then ruining those other lives as they go. Dib says that these people, which seems to be the perspective the shitty, sugarcoated textbook is going off of, are “White People”.

Zim placed his chin on his desk as the lesson drove on. He stared at the board until the words didn’t look like words anymore. His eyelids began to feel heavy for some reason. He closed his eyes. His mind seemed to fade away when suddenly he snapped back to reality. Oop there goes gravity. He jerked so hard he nearly fell off his seat. Some of the students gave him puzzled looks, but most of them have gotten used to Zim’s bullshittery.

What the FUCK was that!?!?? He thought. It felt like his body was trying to shut down or some shit. He continued to struggle with this until class let out. Fortunately, it was the last period so he quickly began his trail to the base.

As he walked, he heard footsteps coming behind him, sounding short and out of breath. Skoodge ran up behind him, having to run quite a bit to catch up to him.

“What the hell took you so long?!” He asked. Skoodge, catching his breath, answered. “Got held up with the really large muscle kid. He doesn’t like me for whatever reason”

“Did you blow him up? I would have blown him up.”

“Well no… that would cause a lot of problems. Also, that’s illegal Zim… remember what we said about trying to be normal citizens?”

“No. YOU said that. I would never agree to stupid laws.”

“I know.” Skoodge sighed.

Skoodge had actually grown fond of the Planet. It was frustrating how dumb these humans were sometimes, but life was simpler. Nicer. Not only that but the fashion in the thrift stores were perfect for Skoodge. It was all he ever wore. At the moment he was wearing a pair of very bright surf shorts, along with a shirt that said “I love chubby furries” He had no idea what that meant, he just liked the picture of the fat dog person on it. It was possible that this was the reason he got stopped by Chunk after school.

They reached the neon green house and walked inside to be greeted by a rocket zooming straight into Zim’s gut, knocking him onto the floor. The robot stood up, hugged Skoodge, and then sat on the couch in a very calm manner. Zim was able to get back onto his feet, glared at the robot for a bit as Skoodge giggled a bit, and then removed his contacts and wig. Skoodge soon followed after and they sat on the couch together to watch whatever cursed programming the robot was watching.

“How did class go for you?” Skoodge asked him.

“eh.” Zim shrugged.

There was a moment of silence, then he spoke again.

“I’ve been having trouble keeping my eyes open lately. I think I got poisoned by that demon Moose we dealt with a few days ago.” Zim said.

“Uh… what do you mean keeping your eyes open? You just… keep them open??” Skoodge said with concern in his voice.

Any further questioning would only get grunts from Zim. Skoodge then turned to him and saw that Zim’s eyes were closed, and he seemed unconscious.

“ZIM?!?” Skoodge yelled.

Zim jolted back into consciousness and screamed back “WHAT!?”

“You did the thing!”

“What thing?!?”

“You know the… oh never mind.”

Zim probably would have fallen out of consciousness again had Dib not called Zim’s phone. How Zim had a cellphone plan is beyond me but whatever.

“Hey is Skoodge there with you?” Dib asked.

“Yeh.”

“You two wanna come over or whatever? Tak came to hang out with Gaz, and Gretchen’s family stayed home for sabbath so she’s coming over too. I don’t know, it could help us bond better or whatever”

Skoodge, listening in, started nodding his head. He was actually good friends with Gretchen. He hung out with her at the library even before she got the courage to start talking to Dib again. That, and he actually got along with pretty much everyone.

Zim made a face similar to a scrunched up sea sponge, but told Dib they would come over.

“Also, please don’t bring Gir guys. There’s still damage in the walls from last time.” Dib then said goodbye and hung up.

Zim groaned and slowly slid himself off the couch, onto the floor, and then stood up. Skoodge went to the cabinet, grabbed a bunch of candy and snacks, and said he was ready to go. After arguing about whether to share their snacks with the others, and Skoodge somehow winning the argument (thanks to Gir screaming in his defense), they headed out to the human’s household.

…

Zim seemed to forget about the weird shutdowns while he was busy trying to beat Dib’s ass in Smash Bros. Zim refused to stick with one character so he had to readjust to the move sets almost every round, which really didn’t help his goal. It also didn’t help that they were also playing against Gaz, who made it very hard to survive more than a minute. After many rounds of various video games between the group, they finally decided to settle down with a Movie and then sleep over. It wasn’t like Professor Membrane would give a shit, he was never home.

The other two times they did this, the Irkens in the group would either just stay up playing more games and watching movies, or they would leave. The species wasn’t known to sleep. They are able, but there was no need. Dib compared it to the gems in Steven Universe. Zim would agree but first, he would have to admit that he watches the show along with Skoodge.

This time was going to be different.

The pull of unconsciousness was tugging at Zim again. Throughout the movie, he tried to combat it by jerking his body suddenly as to re-alert himself. Occasionally he would yell out, which quickly got on the others’ nerves.

“Zim what the fuck is your problem?!” Gaz eventually asked, although she didn’t care that much, she just wanted him to shut up.

“WELL WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!?!” Zim screeched back at her, which he immediately regretted upon seeing Gaz’s reaction.

Before any damage could be done, Tak preemptively held Gaz’s arm back, knowing pissing Zim off would only result in a shit-fest. Dib, having previously been obsessed with Zim’s every move when they were enemies, somehow did not notice his rival was a bit off until now.

Avoiding any more interaction with Zim and risking another blowup, Dib asked Skoodge to join him in the kitchen and asked the short Irken what was going on.

“You mean the yelling? Dib, you should know that’s normal for him” Skoodge stated matter-of-factly. Dib stared at him for a second before responding.

“N-… No Skoodge, I mean the other thing… and wh- what the fuck are you wearing?”

“What, my shirt? Why?” Skoodge asked. 

Dib looked like he was somehow holding a stroke.

“… Nevermind. Back to the issue at hand. It looks almost like he’s… falling asleep or something?? Did Zim eat something bad or??…” Dib trailed off, not really sure how he was going to finish that sentence.

“Falling… asleep? I never really considered that. But we don’t sleep, our PAKs sorta recharge as they go.” Skoodge said.

Dib sighed. “I know. you guys have explained this multiple times, but what if something happened and now-” Dib stopped for a moment. Something clicked in his head. His eyes widened.

“Skoodge… how much does Zim remember the demon moose incident?”

“I don’t know… he knows it happened and he knows it did something to him” Skoodge responded.

“The kick. The moose kicked him and it hit his PAK… Zim’s PAK must’ve gotten damaged. I bet that’s what’s happening.” Dib told him.

“What???” Skoodge was confused.

“The demon moose fucked up Zim’s PAK so now he doesn’t recharge very well. That’s why he’s so tired. He needs sleep.” Dib explained. He was also beginning to realize what was going to have to come next.

They needed to get Zim to go to sleep. It was going to be hard, but the little shit needed a nap. It was going to be like trying to put a gremlin to sleep.

The movie was over. Zim had passed out again. Dib gathered everyone else in the kitchen and explained what was going on.

“Why can’t we just leave him there?” Gaz said.

“Because he’s going to wake up again and try to avoid going to sleep. He needs to know what’s going on so he can get proper rest.” Skoodge responded. It’s an absolute mystery how Zim was able to get by at all without him for some time.

“We could always tase him and just throw a blanket on him.” Tak proposed. She still had some bitterness towards him for ruining her life plans.

“We’re not doing that Tak,” Skoodge stated.

Gretchen spoke up, “Why don’t we just… tell Zim? Explain to him, and then help him get to sleep?”

The others stared at her for a moment, unwilling to admit they were overthinking this a little. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? They were about to get an answer.

Waking up Zim was a mistake. Naturally, he screamed and ended up slapping Dib as a “reflex” although he had to turn around and reach for Dib and Skoodge was the one that actually shook him awake. Skoodge tried to start his explanation but Zim was NOT having it. He got enough bullshit already about being a “defective” so another layer on top of that, to have a PAK that needed him to sleep every now and then, that did not sound fun.

“Zim, listen, it’s okay. You just need to let yourself sleep. you’re already doing it bit by bit but you need to fall all the way.” Skoodge told his friend.

“Yeah, but not on our couch,” Gaz added.

“I can get a sleeping bag. Skoodge is welcome to stay too. I know Tak already is ‘cuz she’s got some project she’s working on with Gaz or something.” Dib said, before leaving the room. When he got the sleeping bag, he decided to grab another for Skoodge… maybe he could try sleeping too? It would be awkward just sitting there all night, and he knew the two of them enough that if Zim was doing something that involved letting his guard down, there was no way Skoodge was leaving his side. Dib would have liked it better if this was done at their base and not in his living room but with Gir there, it probably wouldn’t work out very well.

By the time Dib returned, Gaz and Tak were in the backyard working on Tak’s ship (which Dib had reluctantly returned to her). He could hear faint static from the communicator again. Tak must still be trying to connect to whoever she’s looking for on Meekrob again. Gretchen was sitting on the couch looking at memes on her phone. Skoodge was sitting by Zim on the other side of the couch, still trying to coax him into sleeping, with Zim still refusing.

“Zim isn’t budging… but Skoodge is getting somewhere I think.” Gretchen updated Dib. “By the way, Gaz agreed to let me sleep in her room since the living room will be occupied, and your room would be a little awkward.” Suddenly she remembered that she had to text Keef… her parents thought she was staying at his house for the night, not the Membranes’. As she got up to talk on the phone in private in another room, Dib took her place on the couch.

Dib unrolled both sleeping bags, then stood there awkwardly watching Zim and Skoodge argue. There was no way Zim was going to agree to this with their current tactic. So he proposed to them his earlier idea of Skoodge also sleeping, hoping that would make Zim more comfortable. Upon hearing this, Zim was silent for a bit, looked at Skoodge, then Dib, back to Skoodge, then the floor.

“Wait… Gir!” Zim finally spoke.

“Don’t change the subject dude, you need to fucking sleep!! Gir is fine!” Dib yelled at him.

Just then there was a loud single knock on the door. But really it sounded like someone crashed into the door, followed by multiple little knocks.

“Who could that be knockin’ at my door?!” Dib said in a song-like tune, but also nervous because it was like, 2 in the morning. Seriously who the hell…

“Go away. Don’t come here no more…” Dib finished the lyric under his breath as he answered.

Dib was greeted by a small green dog who looked up at him silently, called Dib a bitch, then walked inside. Dib didn’t even react… by this point he was used to this sort of thing.

“GIR, NO SWEaRiNg!!!” Zim yelled as Dib shut the door behind the robot.

The commotion brought Gretchen back into the room. She took one look at Gir and already picked up on what was going on. Wherever Zim and Gir are together, screaming is sure to follow. She walked over to the little robot to pat his head and scooped him up like a baby.

“What are you doing here Gir? We told you to stay at home.” Skoodge asked, hoping this wasn’t going to make the argument with Zim more difficult.

Gir gave puppy dog eyes more than he normally did, ears drooping and everything. “The pig left… and I was looooonely,” Gir replied with tears in his voice, then suddenly perked up and happily said, “SO I cAMe HERE!!!.”

“Hey Gir, do want to take a nap? Zim is going to try to sleep.” Gretchen calmly told him, still carrying him like a toddler on her hip.

“Yeah!! Sleepytime!! I’ll help get Zim to sleep!” Gir then pulled out a hammer and held it up like he was going to hit Zim with it.

“NO NO NO NO!! GIR DON’T!!” Everyone else screamed. Gir looked at them with a smile still, as Skoodge carefully took the hammer from Gir, and set it in the kitchen. Maybe it was time to talk to him about what’s possible in cartoons… and not in real life.

“Damn, I thought Gir would be on my side… he usually hates having to rest,” Zim grumbled. Dib rolled his eyes and wondered if Zim had actually contacted Gir at some point to get him out of this.

There was a silence for a while. Skoodge looked at Zim and simply said “please… it’ll help. I promise.”

“eeeeeeUGaAAaaaaHHHHGH… FINE!! I’ll take a fuckin’ nap or whatever.” Zim loudly complied. “But only if Skoodge stays. I still don’t trust any of you.” Skoodge nodded in understanding as everyone gave a sigh of relief

God… took long enough, Dib thought. He was surprised it didn’t involve more damage to his house. Whatever. The green bastard was going to finally sleep. Wait… did he know how to sleep? Eh, he’ll figure it out, he’s basically been doing it already, he just had to let it happen.

The two Irkens got settled into the sleeping bags, and Dib tossed them some pillows. Gretchen set Gir between the bags, as he curled up and immediately passed out. They finally got comfortable, Dib turned out the lights, and Gretchen said goodnight. The two humans were about to make their way upstairs when they heard a “Hm.” from Zim.

“What is it?” Skoodge whispered.

Zim made a smirk with his eyes still closed, as he was snuggled up in the poofy sleeping bag. “I’m a warm little bitch.”

The End 

[sephirotha]

Eclipsed Star XXII

This song was called Prayer of the Oracle.  It filled the cold throne room with a warm, nostalgic glow.

Ardyn propped his face with his fist as the very song made him doze off, luring him into a sweet eternal slumber.  Aera would always sing this to him in the late summer days, when they would enjoy the perfectly warm weather.

The only difference was that this track was being sung by Stella when she was eighteen.

Ardyn recalled seeing her performance in that…damned play.

The play which depicted Somnus rising to the throne and killing…the cursed Adagium in order to form the Kingdom of Lucis.

Stella, being the star of the show was cast as Aera.  Not as her namesake.  No, the script writer made his cousin a background character if anything.

Maybe it was that performance that had him fall in love with her.

He could still remember being in his box and Stella in the centre of the stage, dressed in white and a blonde wig hiding her dark locks.

He came despite knowing he would regret watching how Insomnia would portray the story that had been rewritten to represent his brother as the saint they all looked up to.  But all malice vanished from his heart as Stella sung the opening song for the audience that night.

He swore, for a brief second, that their eyes met when she wandered stage left and looked up into his box.  Perhaps she had mistaken which box her father and brother were in.  Perhaps it was a mindless stage direction she followed from hours of rehearsals.  But her smile…the way her eyes sparkled…for a fleeting moment Ardyn had almost mistaken her to be his beloved.

And all too soon she walked away and Ardyn leaned forward a little, as if drawn to her like many, many of her other admirers.

The play went on, introducing Somnus, Gilgamesh and Stella Izunia.  It was amusing to Ardyn how they omitted Stella and Somnus being cousins.  He of course wasn’t so surprised they eliminated any relation between them and the Adagium, as he was addressed by in the play and in the brochure.

Ardyn wanted to laugh as the actor portraying himself entered, dressed in black and looking very, very evil.

It did hurt, however, that the writer had Aera fall in love with Somnus, making an unnecessary love triangle between them and Stella.  And of course, the Adagium had to lust after the Oracle, because why not?  

He almost went on stage himself to strangle the actor when Aera and the Adagium were alone and Aera was killed by his hands.  Stabbed in the back as he held her close to him and witnessed by Stella who would run to Somnus and set the stage for the final battle.

Ardyn detested everything about the play.  The plot, the subpar actors and the astrals awful dialogue they had to churn out in between the songs.  It was the music that was the saving grace and of course, Stella stole everyone’s hearts that night.  Including his.

As Ardyn slowly came back to the present, he realised the song had changed to something more orchestral.  He glanced at the CD player on the arm rest of the throne and stopped it from playing.

The doors to the throne room opened and he looked up to see a goblin scrabbling across the throne room.  It scrambled up the steps and presented a fountain pen to him.

Ardyn picked it up and held it up.  He twirled it between his fingers before realising the message the little daemon was trying to convey.

Stella had gone to Ignis’s study.  The chamberlain’s initials were engraved into this pen and it just clicked in Ardyn’s head.

Idly, he tossed a coin onto the floor, which the goblin snatched up and ran away with, cackling gleefully.

Ardyn got to his feet, glaring at the pain disdainfully.  After tapping it against his fingertips momentarily, he made his way down to the study in question.

The door was ajar and Ardyn could peek through, spying the princess at the large desk, hunched over.  He carefully nudged the door open a little wider and gritted his teeth.

In Stella’s hands was an old model of a phone.  There was a blue light emitting from the small screen and from Stella’s expressions, it seemed that she had gotten in contact with someone.

Ardyn slammed the door open and Stella jumped, looking up at him and dropping the phone onto the desk.  Her pupils constricted upon seeing him and she backed away, bumping into the window behind the desk.

“And who are you texting at this hour, my dear?” he growled as he strode forward and snatched the phone off the desk.

There were no names for the numbers but Ardyn could tell Ignis was texting back.  Scrolling through the messages, he glossed over the reassuring messages that she’ll be alright, they were on their way to Insomnia, saying that she just needs to be strong.

The phone creaked in his grip before he threw it against the wall, smashing it beyond repair.  …Possibly smashing it beyond repair, you can never tell with the old models of phones.

“They have had plenty of time to come here and play the heroes, Stells!” he roared as Stella pressed herself against the window.  “They would have been here weeks ago!  Nay, at least the day after I brought you home!  They don’t care about you!  They don’t need to ask where you are!  They should have known!”

He punched the desk, his nostrils flaring as he glared at the splintering wood.

“Why…do you keep doing this?  You act as if I am this nasty villain but all I’ve done is love you!  I am not that Adagium who stabbed you in the back!  I am not some evil warlock from a fantasy tale!”

He took a deep, shuddering breath, grinding his knuckles into the splinters.

“…Go to your room.  Now!”

Stella was only too happy to oblige.  She ran out and Ardyn saw the scourge drip from his face and land on the desk.  He pulled away and turned his head to the discarded phone as it made a sound.

Are you still there, Stella?

Ardyn glowered at the text on the little blue screen before slamming his heel into it, making a couple of number keys pop out.