#ponytail dib au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonshroooms · 5 years ago

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So like, here’s a part-angst-part-fluff Ponytail!Dib AU oneshot here ya go! I kinda imagined this lil scenario to be after but not-too-long after these Sad Idiots confessed their Undying Love to each other (I’m totally positive that’s the exact scenario reyna’s gonna take her au, trust me on this I’m a doctor).

Now the beginning of this is definitely more angst and Sad but it do get cuter at the end I promise VwV But anyways, here! *throws this on the ground and runs away*

Dib laid out all the ingredients on the counter, double checking he had everything the recipe called for. Flour, eggs, sugar, check, check, check. Getting everything without alerting Zim what he was up to had been more than a challenge but somehow he’d managed to get past the sneaky bug. All that was left to do was wait for Zim to be busy long enough to enact his plan.

“Alright, it’s a shortcake, how hard could it be?” He pulled up the recipe on his phone, mumbling to himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice taunted that he’d mess it up somehow. He mentally shoved it into a box and sealed the lid. It’s fine, he’d be fine. Just follow the instructions, he could do that.

With his best attempt at a determined nod Dib opened up the flour, pulling a large bowl out of the cupboard, giving a glance at the instructions.

“Mix strawberries with sugar and ffuh mhmm…” His sentence trailed off as his brain rewired itself to focus on the strawberries. “Alright, strawberries first, then.” He dumped the carton of berries in a little bowl of their own, scooping out a few spoonfuls of sugar and stirring. And put them in the fridge. Okay, step one done. See? Wasn’t so bad. A part of him felt kind of dump pep-talking himself, but he knew how much his self-deprecation bothered Zim, so he was trying to fight it. Most said step one was talking positively, even if you didn’t really believe it, so that’s what he was gonna do.

Dib pulled out the flour and measured it, pouring it in the mixing bowl once it was at the right level. Next was baking powder, baking soda, sugar, and heavy cream. Dib ran his eyes across the bottle of cream for not the first time. The store didn’t exactly have just “heavy cream.” “Heavy whipping cream,” it read. The names were pretty close and he was going to try and make whipped cream anyways. It was probably the same, right? He couldn’t find anything saying it was different (not that he found anything saying it was the same, either). Somewhere that voice trapped in the box whispered that he was already fucking up. He was probably fine. If it was the only one the store had it was probably the most common one anyways.

As he mixed the ingredients together Dib allowed his mind to wander. That cold winter in his car, being sick in his apartment, lunch after lunch of carefully crafted meals, all wrapped in hearts and flowers. He found himself thinking about those times a lot. A large part of him laughed, wondering how he was able to jump through so many hoops to explain why Zim would go through all that trouble, what nefarious plot they could possibly be apart of, when the answer was (quite literally) written in front of him. A larger part said he was stupid if he really thought this was real, that this wasn’t just some long con at his expense and the ball would drop soon enough.

It wasn’t surprising the lunches were on his mind now, anyways. It’s what spurred the baking adventure he was currently on. Zim tried so hard despite Dib’s bad attitude, his denial, even his blatant refusal to eat at times. He wanted to return the favor, at least a little bit.

Dib let out a sigh as the mixture was finally done, rolling his shoulder a bit. Somehow the mixing was surprisingly tiring. Sure, he could keep up with the plots of an alien invader with technology far more advanced than his own since he was 12, but mixing cake batter was the real test of strength. Repetitive motion, he supposed. He poured the mix into the baking pan and stuffed it in the oven. Oh, shit, he forgot to preheat it. Did anyone really even do that? Seemed like a waste of power, honestly. He set his phone timer for an extra 10 minutes than the recipe called for, hoping that’d make up for it.

Alright, all that was left to do was the whipped cream. He was breezing through this recipe! He could almost imagine the look on Zim’s face when he got back. Sure, Dib didn’t have fancy wrapping paper, and honestly, the cake would probably look like shit. But as long as it tasted fine that was the most important part, right?

Dib pulled a separate bowl from the upper cupboard, combined the whipped cream ingredients, and got to work on stirring. The recipe said to use a mixer but he didn’t exactly have one of those, so he was stuck using good ol’ elbow grease. He tried to make up for it by mixing faster but figured the speed wasn’t gonna be a huge factor in the outcome.

Or, so he thought, at least.

Five minutes of mixing later and the cream hadn’t taken on any kind of fluffy quality. Just the same white goop. It was supposed to get light and fluffy two minutes in. Did he forget something? He rechecked the recipe. Cream, sugar, vanilla, lemon zest. It was all in there. Was he just not going fast enough? Maybe the mixer was more crucial than he thought. He plopped himself on the ground and kicked his whisking up a notch. Another few minutes and the only significant change was that the goop was maybe a little thicker. That, and he definitely got a good portion of it all over his shirt. Great.

Alright, the recipe did stress the heavy cream needed to be chilled before mixing. Did he let it sit outside the fridge too long? He could leave it in the freezer for a bit, let the cold firm it up a little? He swallowed down the rising disgust at himself, he was such a fucking idiot, he didn’t even know how to fix his mistake. Yeah, that’d work. With a grunt he got to his feet-

SMACK.

“Shit, goddamn it!” Dib instantly recoiled, clutching at the back of his head where the open cupboard lovingly smacked into his skull. He slammed the door shut with bang, the loud sound satisfying his anger a little bit. Stomping over to the freezer he shoved aside the assortment of raw meats and frozen veggies (things Zim planned on cooking at some point), and stuffed the whipped cream in, slamming the door shut.

“It’s fine, you’re fine. Nothing’s ruined, it’ll be fine.” Wow you’re trying really hard to sell this, huh? Can’t even convince yourself to buy your own words without lying first.

Dib leaned against the kitchen counter, silently fuming at the throb on the back of his head. He could feel self-loathing spilling into his brain like a fog, seeping out from that mental lockbox he tried to shove it in. He shook his head and did his best to focus on the goal. Zim would be so happy Dib made him a present, he’d get to see that huge smile that had his heart squeezing funny, ruby eyes lighting up with appreciation. The idea soothed his mind a bit. He could get through a few hang-ups if he got to see that expression and…

Was something burning?

“Seriously?!” Dib yelled as he pushed away from the counter. He threw the oven open and grabbed the baking tin only to recoil back in pain as his hand came into contact with the hot metal. Dib cursed, shaking out his hand and grabbing the oven mitt staring him in the face. Sure, go ahead, just fucking break yourself while making your thank you gift. Nothing says “I appreciate you” like making him clean up your fucking mess.

The tin landed on the stove with a clatter as Dib quickly turned away to grab ice for his hand.

Only to be greeted with a freezer that had whipped cream spilled all over it. The half-empty mixing bowl clattered to the floor as the door swung open, a few splatters of not-quite-frozen whipped cream leaping to the floor as it did. No, it’s fine, it’s okay. They could always just buy whipped cream at the store. He was pretty sure Zim wasn’t allergic to normal whipped cream anyways. You can’t even put something in the fridge without fucking it up? Why are you even bothering?

Dib stuffed a few ice cubes into a plastic bag and clutched his fingers around it. With a grimace he turned off the phone timer that only decided to start ringing just now and looked over the cake. Honestly, it wasn’t even burned that much, they could just not eat the bottom. Geez, you’re really going for a record trying to screw up every stage of this project huh?

Was the cake… supposed to look like a biscuit? He tore off a piece and popped it in his mouth. Was it also supposed to taste bland as hell like a biscuit, too?

Despite the bag of ice pain stabbed through the skin of Dib’s hand anyways, only adding to the misery of his failed creation. Look, he couldn’t expect things to be perfect. It was his first time trying to bake something. Plenty of people probably messed things like this up. You couldn’t even make a damn cake. Honestly, why did you even bother trying? How many other things have you fucked up that were way easier than cooking and you couldn’t even do those right? What made you think you could get this right?

Dib slid to the floor, focusing on the quiet sting of his burned hand. He felt that urge to visit the nearby drugstore. He might’ve bought a bottle of something, too, were his wallet not thoroughly cleaned out from buying all the cake ingredients. Couldn’t get drunk if he wanted to.

And damn he wanted to right now.

Amber eyes glanced around the kitchen, taking in the few splatters of whipped cream on the floor, quickly melting into puddles now. He… could at least up the mess he made before Zim got back.

The frown on his face deepened.

Well, knowing you, you’ll probably find a way to fuck that up, too.

Zim slid the window to the apartment open, wasting no time scurrying in and ripping off his disguise. How Gir escaped view of his cameras long enough to floor half the base he’d never know. Computer wasn’t any help telling him what happened either. Zim suspected whatever started the whole “beach party” idea was both Gir and Computer’s idea.

Zim’s internal ranting didn’t have long to continue before his now-freed antenna picked up the scent of something burnt, as well as something sweet and almost… milky? Compound eyes were greeted with a less-than-clean kitchen, used and abandoned cooking utensils, and a few tiny puddles of something melted on the floor. Confusion buzzed around the Irken’s mind before worry crept up his throat when he realized he couldn’t see Dib in the small space around him.

Slow-creeping dread dropped like a rock in his gut as anxiety moved his limbs. “Dib?” Zim called, receiving no answer. As terrifying rooftop rescues were at least they were known. What was Zim supposed to do for this new situation? What was the protocol?

His panic didn’t last for long as he skidded past the kitchen and caught sight of his human’s familiar form. Relief quickly flooded over him and he ran to Dib’s side.

“Dib-beast, what happened, are you okay?”

Dib jumped a little, as if startled from sleep, and looked at Zim. “Oh, hey space boy, welcome back.”

Zim frowned. Dib had that… look in his eyes that he didn’t like. That faraway look he often had during drunken hazes, staring off into nothing like there was a storm brewing in his head with threats of nothing good.

The alien grabbed Dib’s face with both hands, turning him left and right to check for injuries, Dib scrunching his eyes as he did. Zim pursed his lips when he noticed the melting pack of ice in his human’s grip.

“Burned myself on the stove, no biggie.” Dib shrugged. Zim’s brow furrowed, giving Dib’s cheeks a squeeze before getting up to grab some first-aid things.

“So, were you going to tell me what happened here or do I have to check the cameras?” Zim plopped back down next to Dib, pulling the injured hand into his lap to treat it.

Dib snorted. “Ha, nice try, I already found ‘em all.”

“Mhm, yup, you certainly did. No use looking for more, they’re all gone.”

Zim couldn’t resist a grin at the glare and eyeroll he received. He didn’t know if Dib had actually found all his cameras yet, but no sense in letting the stinky know if there were actually more or not.

“Sorry about the mess,” Dib mumbled. “I was gonna clean it up before you got back. I got kinda...” A sigh. “Distracted.”

Zim finished wrapping up Dib’s injury with a band-aid and glanced around the kitchen once more. It seemed to have been some sort of… baking attempt, from what he could gather. But why wait until he was gone to do it?

“You are forgiven… only if you tell Zim was all this-” he gestured to the mess “-was about.”

Zim watched his human’s expression as he started back at him, seeming to debate whether he wanted to elaborate or not. Finally, he looked away with a sigh and Zim thought he saw the slightest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“I was uh, trying to bake.” Zim could only just barely understand Dib through his purposeful mumbling. “A cake. For, uh, for you. To say thanks, you know. For all the food you’re always making me.” As he spoke his cheeks got redder and he started scratching at the back of his neck, a habit Zim noticed he usually did when he was nervous. “As you can see it didn’t really work out that well.” Dib gave a laugh but it felt so hollow to Zim’s antenna. The kind of laugh you did when you were trying to assure others you were fine but couldn’t really put any effort in it.

As the Irken glanced around he could spot all the different bowls, measuring spoons, and other utensils his Dib used. He… tried really hard, didn’t he? And now he was on the floor, looking like the entire world was crashing down and it was his own fault. Sad and warm feelings both swirled around Zim’s gut, a confusing swirl of emotion he wasn’t sure how to process.

Zim placed his hand on Dib’s leg and leaned up to press his lips to Dib’s, much to the human’s surprise. Zim felt Dib stiffen only slightly before relaxing in his hold, reciprocating the kiss. Zim’s antenna instinctively wrapped themselves around the untied scythe of hair atop Dib’s head. Hmm, it was getting long. They’d need to cut it again soon.

Zim pulled back from the kiss only slightly, resting his forehead against Dib’s as he brought up a hand to stroke Dib’s cheek. “Thank you, Dib-beast.”

Despite the slightly flustered look Dib managed to pull himself together enough to furrow his brows. “For what? The cake’s not even good. Trust me, I tried it. All I managed to make is a huge mess.”

One of Zim’s antenna bent down to lightly bop Dib’s cheek. “For trying so hard to make something special for me. For going out of your way to make it a surprise. For telling me you appreciated the things I did.” Zim leaned forward to nuzzle against Dib. “Thank you for all of that.”

Dib let out a sigh and Zim felt arms wrap around his waist and hoist him into Dib’s lap. His human easily nuzzled into his shoulder and Zim did the same, feeling long legs bending up and resting against his PAK. They fell into their embrace so easily, like they were supposed to fit together. Zim was sure he’d be perfectly happy just sitting like this with Dib for the rest of time.

The two stayed like that for a long while, Dib’s lanky arms wrapped around Zim in a tight vice, Zim content to breathe in Dib’s presence. Eventually they were interrupted by a low grumbling centered at Dib’s stomach. Zim let out a snicker at the very graceful noise, earning him a slightly embarrassed “shut up” from Dib. Zim gave a smell peck on the lips to placate his human and rose to his feet, offering Dib a hand to help hoist him up.

“What do you say we try and make a cake some other time?” Zim offered. “Now that I know I’m owed a gift, of course.”

Dib looked down with a rueful smile. “Not worried I’ll mess it up?” He said with a slight scoff.

Zim’s brows furrowed as he rose up on his PAK legs to be at eye-level with his human. “Not at all because I know how smart you are. Besides,” Zim said, running a finger along a glob of wet goop and popping it in his mouth. Hm, slightly sweet. “You know baking is like, level 20 cooking, right?”

“Hah?”

“Yeah.” Zim reached into the fridge, looking for some leftovers for Dib, his eye spotting the tub of strawberries soaking in sugar. Oh, those looked good, they could probably use those tomorrow. “If you’re going to try something new you’re supposed to start at level 1, stinky. Most cooking you can just kind of eyeball how much seasoning you want for things. But baking is very exact a lot of the time. You humans took cooking and decided to make it as finicky as chemistry for no good reason.” He pulled a tub of spaghetti from the fridge and popped it in the microwave.

“With both of us tackling it we’ll make a cake that rivals anything some dookie-brained ‘top chef’ could make.” Zim plopped himself on a clean section of counter, antenna sticking up as he boasted for the both of them.

Dib scoffed with a laugh and pulled the spaghetti out of the microwave once it was done. He pulled a fork from the sink of yet-to-be-put-away dishes and leaned against the counter next to Zim. “If you say so, space boy.”

Zim’s antenna quickly accosted Dib’s hair as he neared, tangling and wrapping themselves into place, vibrating with a happiness that said they were exactly where they belonged. “I know so,” he replied matter-of-factly.

The two made the shortcake later that week, despite Dib’s quiet protests. Zim even stole obtained an electric mixer just for the whipped cream. Dib complained that Zim was making him do all the work (Zim’s repeated answer to that was “it’s a present for me, why should I have to do the work?”) Once it was all done though Dib had to admit, it didn’t look bad. Granted, it didn’t exactly look magazine-worthy, but it was presentable. Better yet, it actually tasted pretty damn good. Good enough that he had to fight Zim over the last piece.

For once, that voice inside his mental lockbox had nothing to say.

How in-character is this oneshot actually? It’s a mystery, who knows, certainly not me. It’s been sent out into the world how in character they are is no longer my problem that’s a y’all kinda issue now 💅🏽

Go! Take! A gander! At! @reynaruina ‘s Ponytail Dib! AU! If! You Like! To Cry! (Though things have been looking up in those little blurbs and comics reyna’s making so hopefully there will be less crying soon 🎉)

Fun fact: a huge chunk of Dib’s failure to make a strawberry shortcake from scratch was based on my own failed attempt. I still don’t know if there’s a difference between heavy cream and heavy whipping cream or if an electric mixer mattered. No, stuffing the whipped cream into the freezer didn’t help make it fluffy either. RIP my shortcake 2019-2019 🤘🏽😔

Double fun fact: Did you know apparently classic strawberry shortcakes are actually gross disgusting lumpy buscuit-ass lookin’ mutherfuckers and not fluffy sweet cake things? Whoever the hell thought purposefully bland cake was what strawberry shortcakes needed to be should be forced to step on legos forever. They also owe me 20 bucks cuz I thought I was making the sweet fluffy kind of cake and instead of forced to eat a flavorless biscuit with strawberries on it. EVIL.

#ZADR #Ponytail Dib AU #fanfic #fanfiction #my stuff #y'know I tried to make this thing mostly fluff and my garbage hands added a heaping ton of angst for no reason #had to stop and look at them like 'why does everything u touch DIE'#I think I saved it at the end tho XD #go give reynaruina some love she deserves it VwV

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