For this Dib, I will be referencing the Dib my friend and I use for ZaDr stuffs; same went for the Zim ask, I just forgot to specify. Oops. Also sorry for this being late !!!
What Dib smells like:
I am getting Old Spice vibes. Specifically the Denali scent. That citrus mountain scent that smells like it's cold instead of warm. That, mixed with dust and human.
How he sleeps:
Dude snores like a rumbling Ford truck. Don't tell me that nerd doesn't drool some either. Occasionally he's forgotten to take his glasses off before sleeping - that or he just passes out while working on something. When he does sleep, he sleeps lightly; one eye open kind of vibes.
What music he enjoys:
Lemon Demon, duh?? But aside from the fandom-wide trope, I would like to add MUSE, Mindless Self-Indulgence, ICP, Skrillex, IDKHow, and other bands that are rock, alternative, techno-based, or grungy.
How much time he spends getting ready every morning:
Quick shower every morning, or when he can afford to, pulls on the typical same outfit (or something just as simple to assemble) and then he's out the door. Less than 30 minutes each day.
Favorite thing to collect:
Music posters, cryptid memorabilia, and maybe, just maybe, tea.
Left or right-handed:
Honestly have no idea. Probably right handed.
Religion:
Agnostic - like he believes in a little bit of everything and is always questioning. Not atheist, but not religious either.
Favorite sport:
Is looking for cryptids considered a sport?
Favorite touristy thing to do when traveling (museums, local food, sightseeing, etc.):
Tries to find anything strange going on in the area while also trying to keep Zim in check. Otherwise he tries to relax and enjoy the moment.
Favorite kind of weather:
Fall time. That's it. Fall weather, ya know? Not too warm, not too cold. Plus it's Halloween season babey.
A weird/obscure fear he has:
Let's say Iatrophobia - the fear of doctors, specifically mental health specialists. Y’all can probably guess why,,,
The carnival/arcade game he always wins without fail:
The dude probably spends more time ranting to the no-thoughts-head-empty college student running the stand about how everything is rigged and explaining all the mechanics that go into making sure the win-rate is low, as opposed to playing any of the games. At the arcade he's really good at DDR and Space Invaders.
For @lightningridgeblackopal, who prompted me with: Ryan and Shane both have... such big hands? And feet? But especially really........ long fingers. Do with that what you will <3 Hope you enjoy, friend!
Ryan's not actually as small as Shane makes him out to be. Short, maybe - at least compared to Shane - but what he lacks in height he definitely makes up for with muscle, so he's not tiny by any means.
He certainly doesn't look tiny now, sprawled out on his bed with his arms tucked under his chin, veritable acres of olive skin and firm muscle on display. Perched on Ryan's thighs, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, Shane barely knows where to start.
Shane snorts, even as his mouth runs dry at the flex of Ryan's shoulders and back, sinuous and smooth. "Don't expect me to feel sorry for you," he says, even as he presses his palms to the small of Ryan's back, spreading his fingers wide and digging in. "It's your own damn fault you're sore."
"Yeah, yeah," Ryan grunts, cursing softly as Shane digs into a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves. "Overdid it a bit, I guess."
"A bit," Shane repeats incredulously, thumbing at a knot just above the band of Ryan's basketball shorts. Ryan shudders at the touch, skin rippling and hips jerking, and Shane clamps his thighs around Ryan’s so he won't be bucked off. "Simmer down, buckaroo. You knock me off and you can say goodbye to these magic fingers.”
It’s a fib. He doesn’t actually mind helping Ryan out with this, enjoying the heat and the closeness of the act and the sight of Ryan melting into a pliant little puddle beneath his hands. It’s actually kind of heady, feeling the bunch of coiled muscle and the shiver of sensitive skin beneath his palms, not to mention the sounds Ryan makes - soft sighs and bitten off curses as Shane’s eager fingers knead at his shoulders, guttural moans and breathy whimpers when Shane works out a particularly tough knot.
"Noooo," Ryan moans, fingers clenching in the bedsheets. "Don't stop. I'll do you next, c’mon."
"Ooh, bribery," Shane hums, fanning his fingers out along the length of Ryan's spine. He'll never get used to that visual - the sight of his hands spread out wide along Ryan's back or chest or thighs, fingertips sinking into olive skin, feeling Ryan tense and jerk and shudder beneath his palms. "Eh, what the hell," he muses, his voice deceptively cavalier as he smoothes his hands along Ryan's shoulder blades. "It's been a long day. I could use a little extra lovin'."
"You're so goddamn weird," Ryan huffs, exasperated but fondly so, shooting a look of sleepy amusement over his shoulder. "Don't act like that's not exactly what you were aiming for, anyway. You're not as slick as you think you are, big guy."
"Says you," Shane returns in a tone of mock-offense, though his lack of denial is all the proof Ryan needs to confirm his suspicions.
"Thought so," he murmurs, his voice soft and nearly sing-song. His eyes flutter closed as Shane kneads at his shoulders; another ten minutes and he'll be snoozing, Shane bets. "You could have just asked, you know."
"And listen to you gloat?" Shane scoffs. "Never."
Ryan laughs, muffled in the circle of his arms, but doesn't reply. He's not wrong, though. Shane loves when Ryan comes to him, sore and aching after a long day bent over a computer screen or an enthusiastic session in the gym, loves to feel him turn to putty once Shane gets his hands on him. But there's something to be said for those nights when Ryan notices the discomfited slant to his shoulders and pushes Shane down onto the couch or the bed, soothing his own aches and pains with firm palms and strong fingers.
Ryan's hands may not be able to cover as much real estate as his own, but Shane loves the sensation of callused fingertips and blunt nails stroking along his neck and shoulders and spider-walking down the long, long length of his spine. He even loves when Ryan sighs and grumbles and tells him to "Stop hunching over so much, dude! No wonder you're so fucking stiff!", though he'll be damned if he ever admits to it.
A soft snore interrupts his thoughts, and Shane snorts as he glances down and sees that Ryan's fast asleep, cheek smushed into his forearm and hair lying in messy curls across his brow.
So much for returning the favor, he thinks, though it’s hard to feel cheated when his boyfriend’s looking like that, all sleep-rumbled and serene, brow smooth and lips parted. Shane sighs out an exasperated breath as he tumbles to the side and tosses a long arm over Ryan’s back, too lazy to switch off the bedside lamp or maneuver them both under the covers. He has to curl up to fit on the mattress, and his back’s bound to give him shit over it come morning, but that’s alright. Ryan’s peaceful face more than makes up for it.
(And if he exaggerates a wince or two over breakfast, just so Ryan will sidle up behind him and rub at his shoulders, grumbling about idiots who don’t know how to take care of themselves, well. Nobody has to know.)
kittensmctavish replied to your post “I was having a conversation with another writer and they said they...”
reading-wise, i feel like i read about 50/50 on the whole. writing-wise, the only shyan fic i've written was from shane's POV. honestly, i think it's because we're both whiter-shade-of-pale midwesterners, and it's easy (and fun) for me to give him some of those idiosyncrasies.
lightningridgeblackopal replied to your post “I was having a conversation with another writer and they said they...”
Okay so. When I entered this fandom.... two weeks ago. I started by going to the tag on AO3 and clicking to the last page to work backwards. So lemme tell you some observations: OG Shyan fics had a lot more Ryan POV in my experience. It's balanced out a bit more, but the idea of there being more Ryan might be held over from that time, or like it seems like there's more in general because there was more. I agree with the person who said it largely depends on tropes.
my ears are pierced but that’s about it. i’ve had a tattoo picked out for a while, but haven’t had a chance to get it just yet.
mango: what is your trademark?
my curly, colorful hair probably. if you asked anyone at work, it’d be a pair of headphones (since i’ve always got them in; my coworkers know i’m not a talkative person by any means lmao)
