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h3rmitsunited · 4 years ago

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He Ruined My Life (But Todd, Did He? Did He Really?)

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Todd smiled slightly at the middle finger his sister flashed at him before closing the door behind her. It was a very normal move for her, despite the shambles that their relationship was in, and the fact that she had even bothered to talk to him at all gave him hope that maybe there’s a way to fix things eventually. Todd let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, as he let Amanda's surprisingly wise words wash over him. Dirk's face flashed in his mind, the hurt and shock and pain distorting his expression when Todd had spoken to him cruelly ripped him apart hours earlier... or days ago...out at that pier. Todd rushed into the bathroom, fighting back a sick feeling in his stomach, huffing and gasping over the sink, and caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. His own words echoed in his ears.

You're a monster. You ruined my life. You deserve to be alone.

It wasn’t Dirk that deserved those words. Todd glared into his own eyes in the mirror. Todd could feel his self-destructive tendencies blazing inside him, his mind swirling with self-hatred.

Asshole, you're such an asshole, you always do this, Dirk stayed after you told him what an asshole you were and you just drove him away, you treated him like crap, you deserve to be alone, he deserves so much better than you, God, you're such a piece of sh-

Todd squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands hard against his face, shaking his head. He remembered Amanda looking down at him yesterday morning right before she climbed into that van and left him behind.

You're exactly the piece of shit everyone thinks you are.

The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar to him, it had soaked into every part of his life, and he had been drowning in it for years. Even before Amanda’s first attack, he felt it, less then than he did after her attack, but he couldn’t deny that most of his sober moments were spent wallowing in shame and self-hatred and guilt, even if he did nothing to change that part of who he was. His selfishness had won out every single time until Amanda had become a part of it.

But the question was how does he move forward now? The glare of his eyes in the mirror had faded, replaced by a sad exhausted resignation that weighed his whole body down. Todd sighed, and turned, looking back out of the bathroom at the destroyed remains of his apartment, at the spot Amanda had been standing a few minutes earlier. She was right, of course, as always. He had always thought that she was way too smart, definitely much smarter than he’s ever been. He shook his head. She was right about Dirk. She was right and he screwed it all up. Dirk had come into his life for a reason. Dirk had made him better. Dirk hadn’t let him wallow in his self-deprecating crap, and in barely over a week, Dirk had completely changed his life. Most importantly, Dirk definitely didn't deserve any of the shit that Todd had said to him.

Todd’s stomach clenched as another nauseating wave of guilt crashed over him. He needed to fix things, to make things right with Dirk. Even if Dirk deserved a much better friend than Todd, he was all he had, for now...well and Farah, probably (Todd wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to talk to them about later...she may have decided that Dirk’s special brand of crazy bullshit was too...crazy for her). Todd felt an unfamiliar burst of certainty, a feeling he experienced more since meeting Dirk, and rushed to grab what he needed from his apartment before running out the door.

_____________

The weight of his backpack straps pressed into his shoulders and grounded the swirling angsty thoughts clouding Todd’s mind. Now walking up to the hospital entrance from the bus stop, he could only manage to focus on the ache in his body. Surprisingly, spending 8 days straight running, falling, jumping, digging, running more, getting hit, shot at, and electrocuted can make your muscles a little bit stiff, especially if you’ve spent the last... 10 years barely exercising more than going up and down the stairs to your apartment and running to the bus stop. If this is what every case with Dirk was like, Todd would get into shape very quickly... if Dirk even wants me around, his mind reminded him bitterly. He shook the thought away, glancing up as he passed by a serious looking man with a mustache who gave him a strange look and kept quickly walking away. Something in Todd’s chest tightened, though he wasn’t sure why, and he turned back and watched the man walk into the parking lot, back to a large black SUV illegally parked by the curb with government plates. Todd hoped that wasn’t anything to do with Dirk, but with everything that had happened to him the last few days, he knew better now than to ignore a coincidence. He turned back and rushed into the entrance.

His head swam as everything hit him at once. The nothing smell, the flurry of noises, coughs and cries from the people in the waiting room sitting with squirming children and talking in hushed and strained voices on their phones, the rush of the nurses behind the desk at the front, the overwhelming sense of tension, everything brought him back to the last time he was in a hospital, that first time Amanda had an attack seven years ago. The tightness in his chest squeezed even tighter. He could hear that frantic voicemail his mother had left as they rode in the ambulance to the hospital, Amanda’s terrified screams in the background, he still had it saved on his phone. He hadn't bothered to answer when they called. He remembered waking up and hearing it ring, looking at the phone screen blearily before turning over and falling back to sleep. He didn't check the voicemail until hours later, as well as dozens of frantic texts and multiple more missed calls, and when he heard what his mother was saying, he ran to the bathroom and vomited, telling himself it was because of his hangover and not the heavy pit that suddenly dropped into his stomach. The rush to get to the hospital was a blur. He remembered driving way too fast, and that was about it. When he finally arrive, his parents barely registered his haggard appearance, barely registered him at all, his mother just broke into rambling anxious explanations of what happened and what the doctor said and every test they were doing, and that Amanda was sedated because she wouldn’t stop screaming, wouldn’t stop clawing at her skin, her eyes terrified, shouting about the bugs crawling into her mouth, her eyes, her nose, under her skin. His mother cried. His father stood, eyes blank, glazed over, but his hands shaking. Todd barely registered anything after that. He stared silently at his sister, his baby sister, small and frail in the hospital bed, her arms strapped down, dark red scratches across her skin. His mind went blank, for what must have been hours, until the nurse came in and gently let them know they would need to leave for the night, and they would call if anything changed. He had gotten in his car and just screamed and sobbed and pounded his steering wheel.

Todd’s mind returned to the present, but he could still feel the ghost of the ache in his hands from that steering wheel. He forced his thoughts away, knowing that if he let himself, he would get lost in the memory. Things are different now. You're here for Dirk. You're here to make things right. He marched up to the front desk, waiting politely until one of the nurses glanced up and smiled, catching the exhausted look in his eyes. Todd noticed the ice cream cones on her pink scrub top and absently smiled, thinking of Dirk's ties. The nurse brushed a strand of hair that had come out of her ponytail out of her face and cleared her throat.

"How can I help you?" Todd took a moment to register what she said, he opened his mouth gaping at her for surely too long before he responded.

"Dirk-!" He blurted out when he remembered why he was there. He cleared his throat, embarrassed at his sudden outburst. The nurse watched him curiously, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Sorry... long night," he mumbled and coughed into his hand. "I’m.... uh...I'm here to see Dirk... Gently. Last name, Gently, First name, Dirk? He was brought in... last night...or...earlier today?” Spending half of the day yesterday traveled back to 8 days before made telling what time anything was slightly more complicated... It was at least dark when they got to the Spring Mansion though, so.... “Last night, I think...Detective Estevez brought him in, he had some arrows in his shoulder... lost some blood...a lot of blood." He shivered remembering the sight of Dirk's shirt under his blue jacket, just soaked in his blood. His face had been so pale. It was not pretty. Amanda’s words replayed in his head. He glanced back up at the nurse who was now typing into the computer, seemingly ignoring the rest of his rambling before she looked back up at him.

"Right, Dirk Gently. Are you family?" Todd stuttered.

“Uh... not really...” She narrowed her eyes again. “We’re...” He struggled to define what they were. Were they still friends? Assistant and his detective? He couldn’t very well tell her he was an assis-friend... “Partners.” Good enough, he supposed, and technically mostly true.

The nurse seemed to soften slightly, and Todd suddenly realized the alternate implication of what he said. He blushed but didn’t bother to correct the assumption.

“Name?”

"Todd. Todd Brotzman, spelled B-R-O-T-Z-M-A-N.” She started typing again. Todd pressed up against the edge of the desk, tapping his fingers anxiously. "Is he okay? I mean, he was in bad shape, really bad, and I'm just... worried, you know? He doesn't have anyone else."

Her eyes crinkled into a sympathetic look. He watched as her eyes turned back to the computer and scanned the screen. She nodded and smiled.

"He came out of surgery about an hour and half ago. He's resting in his room. Should wake up once the anesthesia wears off, but he's stable. He’ll be okay." She glanced back at the screen. "Room 315, you can take those elevators," she pointed to the hallway to the left, and Todd could see the silver doors of the elevators, "up to the third floor, and follow the signs. There's another desk up there if you get lost." Todd nodded appreciatively and started to walk away. "Oh, and you may have company, looks like his father came in to see him earlier, doesn’t look like we have a check out time for him yet." Todd felt the pit in his stomach return.

"What?"

"His father?" The nurse responded, she glanced back at the screen. "Scott? Had some military ID?" Todd tried to wipe the look of panic off his face and nodded again, more forcefully. The black SUV with the military plate, the man with the moustache, that involuntary clench in his chest. He knew it had meant something.

"Thank you for your help." He managed to bite out before walking quickly over to the elevators.

Blackwing. Dirk hadn’t told him much about the organization, but Todd knew enough to know that it was bad news if they were paying him a visit here. Todd remembered back to a few nights ago. Dirk had spent way too long just "getting his magic lightbulb from the car", and when Todd found him at his car, Dirk was completely out of sorts. Dirk had confessed Blackwing had come to bring him back in again, that they had held him captive as a child, had spent years studying him. Todd couldn't forget the haunted look in Dirk's eyes when he said that name, or the terrifying ease that he vanished the expression from his face when they walked back into Todd's apartment, only shooting Todd a warning glance that Todd understood to mean, 'keep that to yourself.' A couple days later, while they drove back from the nature preserve with Patrick Spring’s machine in the back of the jeep, Dirk had gone into more excruciating detail as to the extent of what “studying him” meant in Blackwing terms. Todd had been grateful then that he was driving, his hands gripped painfully tight on the steering wheel, allowing him to keep his eyes trained on the winding roads, while Dirk bared his painful past to him. The fear in Dirk’s voice had sent a chill up Todd’s spine, and he burned with anger about what Dirk, and all those children had gone through because of what Blackwing thought they could be molded into.

The elevator doors dinged, and Todd waited as an orderly pushed an empty wheelchair out into the hallway. He could almost have laughed as he pressed the floor number, recalling his strange elevator experience several days ago that started all of this... strangeness. Todd’s panic escalated as the painfully slow elevator moved up the floors. What if Blackwing was here to take Dirk? What if he was already gone? What if they grabbed him after his surgery? He’s all alone. He thinks I hate him. The elevator let out another tinny ding and the doors scraped open. Todd followed the signs down the hall towards Dirk's room. The hospital noises closed in around him, the soft beeping, mechanical hums, and quiet television sounds pressing in, sending a chill across his skin. He rubbed his hand over his sleeve, willing the goosebumps away. He could see the number on the wall at the end of the hall. 315. The door was closed. He wondered what he would find behind it. If Dirk would be surrounded by strange men, clad in black, toting guns, pulling him away... it was ridiculous to think, but they had traveled in time yesterday, and switched a dog and a girl’s soul, so it was less ridiculous than some things... Todd took a breath and paused for just a moment before he pushed open the door. The breath choked him in his throat.

The bed was empty. It was empty.

He was too late.

They took him. That man in the parking lot. Todd felt his anger sparking up inside, but it was drowned out by an overwhelming feeling of guilt and sorrow.

They took Dirk, and he would never know how sorry he was for what he said. That he didn't think he was a monster, that he didn't deserve to be alone, he deserved friends and people that cared about him. Todd struggled to catch his breath. He needed to go, needed to try to find that man, to find Dirk. Todd felt his eyes start to prickle again when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Todd flipped around quickly, half expecting Dirk to be standing there grinning at him. He came face to face with a nurse, one hand holding a purple clipboard. She looked at him confused.

"Sir?" Todd pulled back, glancing around at the empty room.

"Sorry. I thought-" His voice crackled with emotion. "My friend-" Todd looked around the empty room, his expression lost. The nurse looked back at him carefully.

"Why don't we make sure you're in the right room, before assuming the worst, dear." She guided him out of the empty room, down the hallway, to the nurse’s station. "What's the name?"

"Todd-" He replied absently before realizing what she meant. "Sorry, Dirk. Dirk Gently. He had... arrows...blood." Todd turned back again to the door to the empty room. The numbers mocked him from the wall. "Downstairs, she said 315." He heard the nurse let out an exasperated sigh, and he turned quickly back to her.

"Sorry, hun." Todd braced himself, expecting the worst. She continued talking. "Someone typed the room number wrong.” She rolled her eyes. “He's in 310."

"Really?" Todd asked incredulously, overwhelming relief filling his body. The nurse clacked away at the keyboard, presumably fixing the error in the system, and then looked back at Todd.

"Yeah, typos happen. He's okay though. By himself again, his other visitor left not too long ago."

"He's still in there?" Todd asked, gazing blankly down the hall, only half paying attention.

"No, he left..." The nurse responded impatiently. Todd looked back at her confused. "His visitor left," she said more firmly.

"No, uh, sorry, Dirk? Dirk's still in there? He didn't leave with...anyone?" The nurse rolled her eyes, shook her head.

“No. He’s just barely out of surgery. He can’t go anywhere until the doctor clears him to leave. You’re Todd Brotzman, right?” She asked, her fingers clicking over the keyboard. “His…partner?” Todd’s heart stuttered, but he nodded.

“Yes. I’m his…partner. Todd.” She smiled and typed something else into the computer.

“Great, well, he’s very lucky to have you. I’m sure he will be happy to see you when he wakes up.” She said with a wave down the hall to Dirk's room. She walked back around the desk and started pulling files from the shelves. Todd watched her for a moment and realized that he had been dismissed. He could feel the panic rising again, the sound and the smell and the sight of the hospital was bringing back that heavy guilty weight in his body. The sound of his mother's high-pitched frantic voice when she saw Todd walking into the hospital. How she had looked at him like she had failed, that she had condemned both of her children to have to (as far as she knew) suffer with this horrible disease. Todd blinked the memory away, staring back down at the empty hallway.

He walked quickly towards Dirk’s room, expecting to have the same hesitating moment before pushing open the door, but it was already open, and just as the nurse said, somewhat anticlimactically, there he was. Alone. No obvious Blackwing threatening him. No serious moustache man looming in the corner. Just Dirk.

Todd let out a heavy breath, and felt his muscles relax slightly. He stepped quietly into the dimly lit room, and pulled the door shut behind him, blocking out the triggering sights and sounds and smells outside, and allowing himself the small reprieve and comfort of closing him and Dirk away from the rest of the world, for just a moment. Todd's ears rang in the stark quiet of the room. The only sound was the steady beeps of the machine hooked up to Dirk, and the soft puff of his breath. It startled Todd to realize how relieved he felt to hear Dirk breathing. Todd stepped further into the room. He felt nervous. Why did he feel so nervous? Looking over at the heart monitor, he was suddenly very glad that he wasn't the one hooked up to that thing. Given the pounding in his chest, he was sure it would be beeping like crazy. He stopped at the end of Dirk's bed, picking at his fingers.

Dirk was so still, and quiet. Sleeping calming, his expression was smooth, the blood and grime now carefully cleaned from his skin. Todd could see the white of a bandage sticking out from the collar of the pale blue hospital gown. He stepped closer, reaching out to smooth the hair sticking up at the edge of Dirk’s forehead, but he stopped, and pulled his hand away before he could brush over the auburn hair. His mind recalled his harsh words, and his guilty pit pressed down in his gut. Todd stepped away, back to the end of the bed, his nerves sparking with nervous energy. Desperate for a distraction, he quietly picked up the chart hanging on the end of Dirk’s bed, his eyes scanning over the name at the top. Gently, Dirk. For some reason, he felt calmer, just knowing it was actually Dirk, given that this quiet man in the hospital bed was drastically different the Dirk that Todd had come to know. He scanned quickly through the notes in the chart, catching some familiar words, but most of it was just gibberish to his medically incompetent and extremely distracted brain. He relaxed reading a line at the bottom stating that Dirk was stable and could be discharged later today once cleared by the doctor. Todd carefully placed the chart back on the end of the bed and looked back up at Dirk.

Something about being in a hospital bed makes everyone seem so fragile. He remembered how Amanda looked, all the tubes and monitors and cords, the straps around her arms. Dirk was fortunately lucky enough that he wasn’t dealing with pararibulitis, and his injury didn’t require him to be restrained in order to keep him from hurting himself while he recovered, but Todd still felt the same sick weight in his gut looking down at him in the bed. He just looked wrong. Dirk was supposed to be bright and alive and speaking ten million words a minute jumping from idea to idea. This man was too quiet, too gray. He looked ten years younger, and ten years older at the same time. In the dim light of the window, Todd could make out the dark shadows lining his eyes, and red of the healing burns on his face that Todd fondly recalled gently covering with those stupid pink bandages. Todd shifted on his feet and the weight of his backpack reminded him of the precious items he had brought, a peace offering. He hoped that the familiar color would bring the vibrancy back to his friend. Dirk didn’t look right without it, and the pale, ‘almost died several hours ago from blood loss’ look of his skin made Todd feel nauseous.

He noticed a chair resting at the edge of the wall and pulled it forward, slightly closer to the bed, but not too close. Todd's stupid, angry, ‘projecting his own shit on other people’ brain sort of messed things up, and he wasn't sure if Dirk waking up to Todd much closer than he was would be a comfort... or an unwelcome surprise. Given everything Dirk had said and done since Todd met him nine days ago, Todd definitely should have known the answer to that question, but he was never the most emotionally competent person, and he preferred to blatantly ignore the idea that someone might actually like being around him in favor of self-flagellating from across the room.

His body still buzzed with anxious energy as he sat down, but he could feel the creep of exhaustion pulling at the edges of his consciousness. He shook his head, trying to force himself to stay awake, and shifted to pull his backpack off. He pulled out his phone and texted Farah a quick update on Dirk and the possible Blackwing visitor earlier. A moment later, he could see she started typing, and waited until her response popped up. She texted, 'ok we'll talk about it at the diner later. lots to discuss.' Todd responded with a quick 'sounds good. will let you know if anything changes.' Send. A thumbs up from Farah. Todd stuffed the phone into his pocket and dropped the backpack on the floor. He leaned back in the chair and sighed, glancing out of the window through the thin gaps in the window shade. His heartbeat and breaths slowly synced up with the beeps of Dirk’s heart monitor and Todd barely noticed as the edges of his vision darkened and he faded into sleep.

Dirk shifted in his sleep, shifting his wounded shoulder, sending a burst of pain into his nerves, and he woke up with a soft gasp. He could hear the beeping of the heart monitor slow down as the pain receded into a dull ache and he took in his surroundings. He barely remembered the detective man dragging him into the hospital...whenever that had been, hours or days ago, he remembered a lot of blood, and being very tired and then he was here. It was rare for him to be somewhere so quiet, the dim lights and the sterile room, the almost oppressive silence, and the aching feeling in his body reminded him uncomfortably of his time at Blackwing. But this is the hospital. He’s not at Blackwing. He’s in the hospital. Even if Colonel Riggins… His heart started to race, mind spiraling into paranoid thoughts, and he felt his breath catch in his lungs, until his eyes landed on the chair across the room, slightly hidden in the shadows, holding his lightly snoring... friend? Ex-friend? Assis-friend? Todd. He felt a wave of relief. Todd wouldn’t be in Blackwing. His panic faded from his vision, and he heard the heart monitor’s frantic beeping slow. Dirk stared at Todd, he knew Todd would have felt uncomfortable by it if he were awake, but he’s not awake, so… he stared. He’s quite surprising, not at all what he expected when he first saw Todd at the Perriman Grand as he ran up to the penthouse, though in his life, he should be used to not having any sort of expectations for anything, since they mostly always end up completely wrong in very strange and unexpected ways, so… Dirk fought to quell the fluttering of hope threatening to overtake his mind, the hope that Todd brought by sitting there across the room. He reminded himself of Todd’s words. How angry he had been. That he never wanted to see Dirk again… It’s not like it should be surprising. Dirk had learned a long time ago that people didn’t stick around him, they got tired of him and his weird behavior, his chaotic life, even if they acted like they liked it…or liked him. They always left. And he would be alone. Just like he always was.

Dirk frowned and looked back at Todd. But maybe… he didn’t have to be alone? Todd let out another soft snore and shifted in the chair. Dirk wondered what could have made Todd return. They had solved the Spring case. Sent the machine back. Presumably, Farah took Lydia somewhere, maybe the detective man was helping her… but Todd, here was Todd, sleeping in his hospital room, waiting for… something. For what? Another case, always another case to solve. The Todd case, a particularly difficult one. Dirk thought through the facts. What he knew about Todd. He was unemployed, and his apartment was practically unlivable, perhaps he wanted to stay in Dirk’s new apartment until he could figure out what to do next? No, that would require spending time around Dirk, and he had said he never wanted to see him again. Maybe, something with Amanda? Perhaps he still hoped Dirk could fix things for him, could help with Amanda… somehow? The time-travel bit didn’t work, but maybe Todd thought something holistic might help? That could be it, right? Dirk watched Todd’s eyes twitch in his sleep. Dirk frowned and shook his head slightly. No, but Todd knew, he saw how Dirk’s… ‘thing’ worked. He knew that it didn’t work like that. Dirk sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. His heart sank. Maybe Todd was still mad at him. Maybe he just came here to make sure Dirk knew he was serious about what he said. To say good-bye. Dirk pressed his head back into the pillows. He was exhausted. His shoulder throbbed with a dull and slowly sharpening ache. His head swam with the remnants of whatever anesthesia and medications they had given him. He just didn’t have anything else to give, and he certainly wasn’t looking forward to being shouted at again, or called a monster, or blamed for all the extraneous side effects of the case, things that he had no control over… He took a breath, letting the familiar tingling waves of the universe come to life in his nerves. The ever-present push that guided him where he needed to go, that told him where he was supposed to be was quiet, resting…satisfied. This was where Dirk was supposed to be. He sighed, resigned to whatever fate would bring him next. He’d never had control over his life before, so no use trying to force it now.

He swallowed thickly, his dry throat immediately protesting, and he coughed. He flicked his eyes to Todd, hoping the noise didn’t wake him, and gratefully, it didn’t, delaying their inevitable conversation when he finally did wake up. Dirk glanced around the bed for some sort of call button, smiling triumphantly finding it on the table beside him, (and wisely placed on his uninjured side) the button glowing softly. It was barely two minutes after pressing the button when the door swung open, bumping the wall with a soft thud, and a nurse with a kind face strode in, clutching a purple clipboard in her hand.

“Mr. Gently. Awake at last, I see.” She said, her voice a normal volume, but in the quiet of the room, sounding extremely loud. Dirk flinched and glanced over at Todd, who shifted slightly in his sleep, but didn’t wake. The nurse looked over at Todd, a look of recognition passing over her face, then smiled apologetically back at Dirk. “How are you feeling?” She asked more softly, walking closer to the bed.

“Much better, actually. Thank you. The blood’s staying inside my body now, so practically back to normal, I’d say.” His voice crackled limply out of his dry throat, despite his fruitless attempts to return to his typical levels of manic speech. He cleared his throat. “I’m pretty thirsty though. Water’s fine, but could I perhaps bother you for a cup of tea?” She smiled, putting up one finger, asking him to wait, and reached out to the collar of his gown, pausing a moment until Dirk nodded, somewhat unsure of what she was doing when he only asked her for a cup of tea. He was fairly certain a cup of tea wasn’t some American slang for ‘please take my clothes off’, but he’d never been to Seattle before, and he wasn’t going to be rude to someone that is helping keep him alive…so... She pulled the loose collar away from his shoulder, and carefully checked the bandages, brushing gently over the gauze. Of course, she was checking the bandages. Stupid Dirk. He rolled his eyes at himself.

“Doesn’t look like it’s bleeding too much.” She glanced at a small patch of red soaking through the bandages. “We’ll get this changed again before you go, and make sure you, or your partner,” she motioned to Todd still sleeping. Was that a blush creeping up on his face? Dirk watched for any signs that he was actually awake, and the nurse kept talking. “know how to change it. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake. She should come in soon to check on you, and if everything looks good, you should be able to go home today.” Home. That stupid word always squeezed painfully at his heart. He shook the feeling away, like he always does and nodded. The nurse smiled at him. “And I’ll see about that cup of tea.” Dirk grinned back.

“Oh, thank you. You have no idea how much I need one. As you can probably tell, I’m from England, it’s practically essential for me to live.” The nurse gave him an amused look, glanced over at Todd again, and left, shutting the door quietly behind her. Dirk sighed and leaned back in the bed, keeping one eye on Todd who shifted again in his chair.

“I know you’re awake.” Todd smiled, his eyes still closed for a moment before he cracked them open. He sighed and stretched his arms out above him and arched his back, groaning.

“How are you feeling?” Todd said, looking pointedly at his injured shoulder. He hadn’t pulled the hospital gown back up over his chest after the nurse checked his bandage. “Is it still bleeding?” Dirk looked down as he reached up and touched at the red spot of dried blood that had seeped through.

“The nurse said that it looked okay, didn’t look like it was actively bleeding anymore. They’re supposed to come check it and change the bandages in a bit.” Todd hummed, apparently satisfied with the answer. Dirk remembered what the nurse had said about Todd and blushed. Partner. “How long were you awake?” He wondered if she just assumed their relationship about them, or, maybe, Todd had said something... If he was blushing because he did hear and he did say something… He wasn’t about to ask him directly though. Not right now.

“Not that long… Just at the end there. Your tea excitement woke me up.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“What about you? How are you feeling?” Dirk asked, studying the dark rings under Todd’s eyes, the heavy slump of his shoulder. Todd’s forehead wrinkled.

“Me?” He shook off Dirk’s concern, forcing himself to sit up. “Fine. I’m good. I’m not the one that had two arrows in his body and lost all his blood.” Todd smirked, fighting to be as casual as possible, despite his conflicted emotions bubbling just under the surface.

“Sure, but you also did have an alarming amount of electricity go through your body… and I’m pretty sure one of those machine guys tried to strangle you at one point? You were in just about as bad shape as I was last night… plus you don’t have the benefit of all the free pain medication.” Dirk said smiling, trying to keep his voice light. Todd frowned.

“Free? You do realize you’re in America now right? They don’t just hand that stuff out. Sure hope the universe has good health insurance.” Todd said, laughing under his breath. Dirk blanched.

“Right…” Dirk blinked and then shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t think that will be a problem.” Todd shrugged and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t about to argue with that, Dirk had obviously figured out something that worked for him…sort of… who’s he to tell him different. Todd rubbed a hand over his arm. Dirk frowned. “You sure you’re alright, Todd?” Todd looked up at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He shook his head, looked down at his hands resting in his lap, and sighed. He made no move to respond, sitting quietly. Dirk leaned forward towards him “Todd?” Todd’s head rose up again, his eyes rimmed with red, and mouth tight. He shook his head, blinking away tears that started to fill his eyes.

“I’m not… I’m not really… good at this, Dirk. I haven’t…” He shook his head, letting his hands fall open in front of him. “I don’t know how to do this.” Dirk’s frown deepened. Distantly, he could hear the beeping of the heart monitor speed up again, but his focus was on Todd.

“Do what?” Todd shook his head and didn’t answer. What could Todd possibly be talking about? Dirk usually didn’t mind not having the answers, was pretty patient about waiting for the universe to just show him what he was supposed to know, but this was excrutiating. “Todd, come on. Do what?”

“Fix things?” He said with a shrug. Dirk cocked his head to the side. Todd let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know… To fix everything? Fix my life? I mean I screwed everything up with Amanda, she hates me, my job, my apartment, my life is destroyed, and,” he paused and looked up at Dirk, his eyes bright and glistening in the light coming through the window shade. “You… I-“ Todd choked on his words, staring at his hands and shaking his head. Dirk was...confused. They solved the case. Todd could move on. He didn’t have to deal with Dirk messing everything up again. Was he still angry with Dirk, that his ‘power’ isn’t enough to fix what he did to Todd’s life, that he lied to Todd?

“Todd...I... I don’t understand? What I said… I’m sorry. I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore… but I can’t… help you…I don’t… I can’t fix things with Amanda… it’s not…how it-“ Dirk looked up from where he’d been staring at his lap. Todd had stood up, his face even more broken up that before, guilt deforming every feature of his expression. Dirk stopped in his rambling attempts to apologize, and Todd shook his head and walked to the side of Dirk’s bed.

“Dirk. No, I-” He groaned, frustrated at his inability to say what he means. His eyes met Dirk’s, and neither could look away. “I’m sorry. Dirk, I didn’t come here for you to fix my mistakes... and I never should have said any of what I did to you. I was angry at myself. I ruined my own life, and when I realized that there wouldn’t be an easy solution to fix it... you were just there, the perfect target for me to blame everything on. That wasn’t fair of me, and I’m sorry, Dirk.” Todd blinked back the shine that was filling his eyes and turned away. “I’m sorry that you ended up with an asshole for a friend, and I don’t know how to fix that, to fix what I’ve done.” Todd was close enough to the bed that Dirk was able to reach out and take Todd’s hand in his. Todd looked up, surprised, the sound of the beeping heart monitor in the background. Dirk didn’t say anything, but the unfiltered and sincere fondness and forgiveness in his expression was a clear enough answer that even Todd understood. “I really am sorry, Dirk. And I understand if you don’t want me around anymore.” Dirk smiled and rolled his eyes.

“You really don’t get it do you?” Dirk had a playful glint in his eyes. “We were meant to know each other, it’s destiny, the will of the universe, fate... or something.... I can feel it, so that means no arguing... and no more calling yourself an asshole. Because you’re not.” Todd opened his mouth to deny it, but Dirk lifted a finger to silence him. “Nuh-uh. You apologized, and that was quite a lovely apology, Todd. Now, you just have to be better. That’s how you fix it.” Todd frowned.

“What if I screw things up again?”

“Don’t worry, Todd.” Dirk grinned. “I know you will. But so will I. And so will everyone. It’s an annoyingly beautiful part of being a real human person. Look, I know you have a good heart, and I know you aren’t perfect,” he turned his head away. “To be perfectly honest, you’d be pretty boring if you were.” He added with a playful glint in his eyes, before he let out a heavy breath, and his expression fell. “I won’t lie to you and say that what you said to me didn’t hurt me. It did. I thought�� you know that I’ve never… had anyone…” he flicked his eyes to Todd. “Stay. You saying what you did… It’s everything I say to myself. Everything Blackwing raised me to believe about myself. Hearing that from you…” He shook his head, blinking away tears, unable to continue. Todd quickly dragged his chair beside the bed, sitting and pulling Dirk’s hand into his. He shook his head emphatically, expression intense.

“You’re not-”

“I know.” Dirk stopped him, firmly. He pulled his hands out of Todd’s leaving a cold chill in the empty place that remained. “I know.” He sighed. “I don’t… I don’t expect you to fix that. My childhood…traumas. I just… I need you to understand that you hurt me. That what you said hurt.” Dirk’s tear-filled eyes flicked up to Todd’s, piercing with their intensity. Todd nodded quickly. He took a deep breath, and nodded again more firmly.

“I do. I understand I hurt you, and I am sorry, Dirk.” Dirk reached back for Todd’s hand still stretched towards him on the bed, and patted it once.

“Good.” He nodded with a satisfied smile. Todd realized he’d been forgiven. He felt the heavy weight on his body lighten, just slightly.

“Thank you, Dirk.” Todd awkwardly lifted his hand for a handshake. “Friends, then?” Dirk smirked and cocked his head. Were they handshake friends? Was that something they did? He didn’t think they were handshake friends…

“No,” Dirk responded and Todd frowned, suddenly unsure if he misread everything that Dirk had said. “Partners.” Dirk grinned at Todd’s confused face before it flashed into embarrassed realization that Dirk knew what he had told the nurse earlier. He cleared his throat.

“Look, technically, sort of, we are partners, Dirk, like detective partners or something, and I wasn’t sure if they would let me see you if I wasn’t some sort of family-ish person…“ Dirk basked in Todd’s rambling smugly and Todd closed his mouth with a glare. “You know, maybe I liked you better when you were unconscious…” Dirk laughed and Todd gave him an annoyed-ly fond frown. He shifted his foot, bumping against his backpack on the floor, his eyes widening in realization. “Oh, hang on, I brought you something.” Dirk cocked his head in interest as Todd picked the backpack up off the floor.

“What? Really?” Dirk watched as a familiar yellow came into view as Todd unzipped the backpack. He felt his heart flip, and he gasped as Todd laid his leather jacket onto his lap. Dirk ran his fingers over the silver zipper, and turned to Todd, ready to thank him when Todd shoved another handful of cloth into his hand. “Oh, uh…”

“It’s just… uh… one of my band T-shirts… figured you might want something comfortable to wear out of the hospital… and you know, your jacket, of course.” Dirk was, for once, speechless. He opened his mouth, trying to find the words, blinking away tears, and just settled for smiling and nodding as he ran his fingers on the soft gray material of the shirt. Todd picked at the edge of the shirt still hanging off the edge of the bed. “And I don’t have many of these left, so… try not to bleed all over this one, okay?” Dirk smiled, and looked back up at Todd.

“Thank you. This is…” He sucked in a breath, shaking his head again. “Thank you.” He nodded. There was something in Todd’s eyes when he looked back at Dirk, something that Dirk hadn’t noticed before, that he wanted to figure out, but the door was suddenly shoved open, Dirk’s nurse holding a steaming cup in her hand, and when they turned back to each other, the moment was gone.

“Got your tea, dear.” She noticed Todd sitting beside the bed. “Oh good, your partner’s awake. Another nurse is headed by to change your bandages.” Todd blushed, looking anywhere but at Dirk who was wearing a similar expression. Dirk took the offered cup from the nurse gratefully, and carefully blew over it as she pulled his tray table over the bed for him. Todd moved the jacket and shirt to the end of the bed, out of the potential spill zone.

“Thank you.” Dirk said, mostly to the nurse, but also to Todd. The nurse nodded, looking between both of them with a smile, and then walked back out of the room. Dirk sniffed hesitantly at the steam wafting from the cup and narrowed his eyes. He sniffed again more forcefully, like he was trying to decide if what was entering his nose was going to kill him or not. Todd watched him smiling fondly. Dirk glanced over, raising his eyebrows at Todd from behind the cup. “What?”

“Nothing.” Todd shook his head, still smiling, and leaned back in his chair.

“Right...” Dirk blew one more time on the warm liquid and carefully took a sip before he unceremoniously spat it back into the cup and shoved it onto the table, with a betrayed look on his face. Todd laughed, and Dirk turned to him with a glare. “That is the worst cup of tea I have ever tasted in my life. I’m not even exaggerating! I swear, you Americans and your so-called tea. She probably made this in a microwave… or with like a dirty puddle of water she found on the pavement.” He shivered in disgust, eyeing the cup like it might suddenly burst out of the cup and force it’s way back into his mouth.

“What? You really expected gourmet tea from a hospital?” Todd rolled his eyes. Dirk glared while trying to get the taste off his tongue.

“Ugh. I think they actually had better tea when I was in Blackwing. And that place was the worst.” Todd’s eyes widened at Dirk’s mention of Blackwing. He wasn’s sure how to respond to that…especially considering Dirk’s visitor from earlier… Dirk seemed to notice his discomfort. “Sorry.” Todd shook his head, swallowing thickly.

“Dirk-”

“Not really something I want to talk about right now… I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” Dirk fiddled with the edge of the cup of tea. Todd looked at him carefully. He had to tell him. They were being honest with each other. Dirk needed to know.

“I know… it’s a touchy subject… but Dirk, I need to tell you something. Earlier, when I came in-” Dirk grabbed Todd’s hand.

“I know they’re still coming for me, Todd. You don’t have to…” He sighed and glanced at the door. “Are they here? Are they waiting for me?” Todd frowned and shrugged.

“I…I don’t know. When I came in, they said some man with a moustache and military ID visited you, saying he was your father. I think I saw him leaving when I was walking in. I don’t know if there’s anymore.” Dirk seemed to process what Todd said, and nodded, surprisingly calm.

“Colonel Riggins. The man that approached me the other night at your apartment building I told you about.” He sighed. “Not really much I can do about it though. If they really want me, if that where I’m supposed to be-” His hand squeezed Todd’s. The heart monitor beeped faster, suddenly aggressively loud in the quiet room.

“Dirk?” Todd stroked Dirk’s hand. Dirk shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed.

“I really don’t want to go back there.” His voice was suddenly very small. Todd stood up from his chair and pulled Dirk into his arms, being careful around his injured shoulder. Dirk sunk into the embrace, gratefully, breathing heavily. Todd could feel his body shaking slightly.

“You won’t. Dirk, okay? You won’t. Farah and I, we’ll keep you safe. And even if they do find you, we’ll track you down, and bust in, guns blazing, and get you out of there. You’re not alone anymore, okay?” He felt Dirk nodding in his arms, a wet warmth soaking into his shirt where Dirk had pressed his face. Todd brought a hand up to stroke the back of Dirk’s head gently. “Look, Farah wanted to meet up a little later today, once you’re out of here, and we can talk to her then. She’ll know what to do. We’ll make a plan, and figure something out.” Dirk sniffled and pulled away, looking up at Todd with red-rimmed eyes. He nodded. “Okay?”

“Okay… I mean I highly doubt that you, or Farah, even with her impressive number of guns and ninja-like fighting skills, will be able to take on a secret military organization, but it’s a nice sentiment, Todd. Thank you.” Todd frowned. Dirk raised his eyebrows. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic right now. It really does make me feel better, Todd. I never had anyone before that even wanted to try to be there for me, so I really do appreciate it.” Todd nodded before he sat back down in his chair, returning his hand to rest on Dirk’s. Dirk smiled softly. The heart monitor was back to being a steady background noise. Todd’s eyes fell on Dirk’s abandoned disgusting tea.

“You want me to go down and see if I can find you some better tea?” Dirk’s eyes crinkled into a smile, and he shook his head.

“Don’t want you to go anywhere,” he said pulling Todd’s hand to his chest. Todd felt his heart twist. “Besides, I don’t have any faith that you would be able to tell the difference between actual tea and this cup of sewage either.” Todd let his mouth fall open.

“Wow. That seems very rude.” Dirk shrugged with one shoulder.

“Maybe that’s me now. Maybe I’m just a rude detective man.” Todd responded with a disgustingly fond look and shook his head. Dirk blushed.

They heard the door push open again, and didn’t pull apart until the new nurse came over to the bed to change Dirk’s bandages, giving them both step by step instructions on how to do it, that neither of them will probably remember later, and will have to try and get Farah’s help with figuring it out. Todd grimaced at the sight of the arrow wound on the front of Dirk’s shoulder, angry stitches pulling his skin into place again. Dirk’s lips pressed tightly together as the nurse gently placed the fresh gauze over the wound and wrapped the clean bandage around his shoulder. A woman walked through the door as the nurse finished with the bandage, her hair neatly tucked into a bun behind her head, and smiled at Dirk, as she picked up the chart from the end of the bed.

“Mr. Gently?” Dirk nodded. “I’m Dr. Peyton. You’re looking much better than when you came in last night. How are you feeling?” Dirk nodded, shifting his shoulder slightly to adjust with the tightness of the fresh bandages.

“Good. Fine. A bit sore, I think whatever you people gave me is wearing off.” Dr. Peyton nodded, and pulled an orange bottle from the pocket of her white coat.

“That’s normal. You’re going to be sore for a while. Fortunately, the arrows missed some important muscles and tendons, so you should be able to make a full recovery as long as you complete your physical therapy sessions. You’re very lucky. Most shoulder injuries can lead to extremely limited range of motion, if those arrows had hit you anywhere else or any deeper, you may have had a much more difficult recovery.” Dirk nodded, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes. Stupid universe and it’s stupid precisely hitting arrows…just enough to not kill him or seriously injure him, just enough to remind him who’s in charge…again. Dr. Peyton held up the pill bottle and gave a quick explanation of how much Dirk needed to take and when. Dirk stared up at her, his eyes glazing over, too much words for having just barely woken up from a night of almost dying. Todd was fighting to listen closely to her instructions. The doctor finished talking and held the pill bottle out to Dirk, who took them slowly. Dr. Peyton said something else Dirk didn’t quite hear. He saw her mouth moving, but the words blurred into the soft hum of the room, the only sound he could make out, the steady beep of the machine next to his bed. Dr. Peyton pursed her lip and looked at Todd pointedly, raising her eyebrows.

“I’ll make sure he takes them at the right times. Got it all here.” He said tapping his head. Dr. Peyton didn’t respond, and then nodded at them both.

“Alright, well, you’re all set then. Your nurse will be back in a few minutes to help get you all sorted, and then you’re free to go.”

Dirk nodded. His head felt fuzzy and the pain in his shoulder had started to burn and itch under the bandages.

“Thank you, doctor.” Todd said. The doctor left, swinging the door shut behind her, and leaving them once again shut away in the sterile silence of the room. Todd absently rubbed his neck. His brief nap in the hospital chair had left his muscles feeling more sore than they had when he arrived earlier and now that his brain wasn’t distracted by his Dirk guilt, his body decided to remind him of all the pain he was in.

Dirk picked at the lid of the pill bottle, fighting to steady his breath, and breathe through the steadily increasing pain. The fact that he was holding a bottle filled with pain medication that could help treat the pain was out of his capability to understand in the current state of his mind. He leaned forward, bringing his knees up towards his chest, and rested his head down on his uninjured arm, trying to hide the groan that escaped his throat.

“Dirk?” Todd leaned over to try to get a closer look at Dirk’s now hidden face, and laid his hand on his back, gently stroking it up to his neck, and resting at the edge of Dirk’s hair. He felt Dirk relax into his touch, and sigh softly. Todd’s fingers combed up the back of Dirk’s scalp, through the fine auburn strands, just as soft as Todd would have imagined them to be. He tried to ignore the warm feeling filling up his chest, panicking at feeling something that he hadn’t let himself feel, he hadn’t deserved to feel... or thought he was capable of feeling. Dirk groaned again, louder, obviously in pain. Todd noticed the pill bottle wrapped in his hand. He reached out with his other hand, pausing before he grabbed it.

“Dirk, can I-?“ Dirk nodded into his arm and loosened his grip without looking up, and Todd took the bottle from him. He reluctantly removed his other hand from Dirk’s head, and opened the bottle, carefully shaking two pills into his hand, pouring a cup of water from a pitcher on the tray table next to him, and holding them out to Dirk. “Here, take these.”

Dirk turned his head, so he could look at Todd, still leaned against his knees. His eyes were heavy. His lips turned up slightly and he nodded in appreciation before sitting up with a groan. He swallowed the pills with an audible gulp and quick swallow of water and sighed falling back into his pillow. His legs slipped back down flat on the bed. Dirk breathed stiffly, shutting his eyes, but he dropped his hand back down on the bed near Todd, letting it hang open, invitingly. Todd paused, unsure for a moment before Dirk twitched his fingers, and raised his eyebrows, his eyes still closed. Todd smiled and laid his hand on top of Dirk’s, letting their fingers interlock. Dirk sighed.

They sat quietly. Dirk breathed steady and deliberate breaths as he waited for the medication to calm the burning edges of the pain in his shoulder. Todd watched him, studying the way the dim light from the window cast pale shadows across his face, the way the front of his hair was stuck straight out from his forehead in an endearingly chaotic way, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under the skin of his neck. He was calmed by the warmth of Dirk’s hand in his, the light flutter of his pulse. Todd let his mind drift away with the steady beeps, as they waited to leave, both ignoring for a moment the danger that inevitably would find them outside the door.

#brotzly #dirk gently #todd brotzman #dirk gently's holistic detective agency #dghda #my fic #ao3

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papenniesandbentoboxes · 4 years ago

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Favorite ND Soundtracks

Alright. I am a huge music nerd. For some time, I was a music major at college (I changed majors after having to take nine classes a semester because of all my ensembles). One of my hobbies is listening to movie and game scores. Some of the Nancy Drew games have some pretty great music. I don’t really know how I’d rank my favorites, but I’m going to list them in no particular order.

Shadow at Water’s Edge

Lovely traditional Japanese sound. Very calming yet it just sounds like someone is watching you.

The scenes in the city have some great music. Honestly? They are bops.

The music fits perfectly with the ambiance and mood. The music at the ryokan is haunting and beautiful and the music in the city is fun and carefree.

“Kasumi” is so wonderfully haunting and beautiful and horrifying at the same time. It’s beautiful and peaceful, and it makes me feel both sad and like I’m gonna die from being attacked by the yurei.

Some of the tracks in this don’t sound like they’re from a Nancy Drew game. They sound like they came straight out of a horror film.

Secret of Shadow Ranch

Western. Soooo western. A stereotypical cowboy movie score. I love it.

It makes me feel like I’m a cowboy in the wild west.

The guitar picking is perfect in “Dirk”. I love it so much that I listened and taught myself on the guitar and I played it too much because my sister was sick of it for a long time.

The ghost town music fits so well. A perfect combination of suspense and yeehaw.

The drums in “Lands”... Perfect. And the trombones in “Danger”... Great.

Curse of Blackmoor Manor

This score. It’s amazing. It makes me feel like I’m in an old English mansion poking around and searching through hidden passages. Oh wait...

This score seems like it should be the background music for a BBC show about royalty.

Some of the music is downright terrifying. Also, the dulcimer?! That instrument is underrated and used amazingly!

The piano and strings parts are just beautiful. “Memoirs” is one of my favorites. The use of dynamics in that piece is lovely.

This is probably the only music where a recorder sounds good.

Brigitte. I still know that song so well.

Legend of the Crystal Skull

Okay. As a jazz singer, this soundtrack spoke to my soul.

They mix horror and jazz and that makes me love it sooooo much.

I just really like jazz, okay?

“Bruno” hits different. It feels like you just walked into a 1930s New Orleans nightclub holding a cigarette and wearing a fur coat.

“Bayou” give me “Gonna Take You There” vibes.

Haunting of Castle Malloy

Say what you want about the game, but the music is beautiful.

“Nursery” still gives me chills. “Map” makes me feel like I should always be watching my back. “Grand” is rightly named.

The music in the pub are bangers.

As a Celtic music fan, this soundtrack is truly wonderful.

Warnings at Waverly Academy

This one fits the environment so well. Both suspenseful and youthful.

The cello. Ooooh, the cello. *chef’s kiss*

The violin solo... It’s so beautifully creepy and unsettling with the resonance and the reverb.

It just feels like late autumn/early winter. It has that vibe and it’s wonderful.

The Captive Curse

Again, as a musician, I’ve been exposed to lots of music, and some of that is traditional Bavarian music. This one combined the mystery of Nancy Drew games with the traditional music and it was done well.

“Girls” is both beautiful and slightly tragic. The piano, the violin, the cello, the everything. It feels like I should be out there wearing a dirndl with Nancy and remember all the girls before that have died at this castle.

Speaking of castle, “Castle” is so wonderfully mysterious. So is “Mystery”, of course. And the violin in “Legend”? It makes me feel curious.

The choir in “Creature” brings a whole new vibe to the game. Kinda gave me “Duel of Fates” vibes, if you know what I mean.

The Deadly Device

It sounds like it came straight out of a sci-fi film. It also gives me Doctor Who and Thor: Ragnarok vibes.

The repeated motif in “Research” sounds like “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas”, don’t hate me.

It fits the techie nerd vibe as well as the “hello, this is murder” vibe.

Ghost of Thornton Hall

This one. Oooh ho ho, this one. It still gives me chills. The music adds so much to the game. It’s creepy enough already, but add this amazing music and you get one of the most creepy Nancy Drew games.

Oh, did I also mention that this music will bring you to tears? Yeah.

That little bit of background choir in some of the tracks?

The brass section in “Dark” has a feel of urgency.

The OPERA in the background. UGH, IT’S AMAZING. This is coming from a person who has sang opera before and DAMN is this stuff beautiful. The vocalese is amazing.

The rhyme... The rhyme.

“Past” is so beautiful and tragic and truly captivates the sadness of the entire situation.

That one time where the drums are pretty much a heartbeat? Freaks me out. Every time. I love it.

The Silent Spy

This one has amazing music and it’s also one of the plot points in the mystery.

The link between Kate and the piano is amazing. Every time I hear the piano, it’s a reminder of Kate and her presence.

Kate’s Theme is so simple, yet so beautiful.

The bagpipes in the background add a whole new layer of sadness. I am one of those people who actually loves the bagpipes.

It feels like a FRICKIN SPY/HEIST MOVIE.

At the same time, SCOTLAND.

The use of the electric guitar is very lovely.

Labyrinth of Lies

I love it. I love it. The music belongs there.

The use of traditional Greek inspired music is wonderful and really helps with the entire ambiance.

“Souls” sounds like it belongs in the underworld.

Sea of Darkness

Hoooooly moly, I love this music. The strings, the choir, the woodwinds, the brass? Everything.

This music makes me want to go sailing.

“The Word I Couldn’t Keep” is still an amazing, beautiful song and no one can tell me otherwise because I am right.

The music in the ice caves, “Waiting” is absolutely amazing. The reverb makes it sound like it’s actually coming from inside the caves.

Midnight in Salem

Again, say what you want about the game, but the music was amazing.

Okay, they had some bops and bangers in this game. I was grooving to these tunes.

It sounds so Halloweeny. It’s so delightfully creepy. It sounds like a Danny Elfman soundtrack and I am HERE for it.

The use of the harp in these tracks is wonderful. It sounds like they also used chimes in here, which fits well.

“Feelings” is so beautiful. Another one of those hauntingly beautiful tracks that hits you in the feels.

“Family” instantly transports me from wherever I am to a small town in the mid-autumn with a little creepy vibe.

I got GTH vibes from some of these. I loved it.

The Phantom of Venice music during Ned’s phone call was superb. I heard it and instantly had flashbacks to Nancy’s not-quite-stripper days.

Seriously. Danny Elfman vibes.

Feel free to add on!! I’d love to hear more about what other people think of the soundtracks.

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cinemavariety · 4 years ago

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The Director’s Series: Paul Thomas Anderson

The director series will consist of me concentrating on the filmography of all my favorite directors. I will rank each of their films according to my personal taste. I hope this project will provide everyone with quality recommendations and insight into films that they might not have known about. Today’s director in spotlight is Paul Thomas Anderson

#8 - Hard Eight (1998) Runtime: 1 hr 42 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

John has lost all his money. He sits outside a diner in the desert when Sydney happens along, buys him coffee, then takes him to Reno and shows him how to get a free room without losing much money. Under Sydney's fatherly tutelage, John becomes a successful small-time professional gambler, and all is well, until he falls for Clementine, a cocktail waitress and sometimes hooker.

Verdict: One of the most impressive feature film debuts ever blessed to American cinema. Paul Thomas Anderson was only 25 years old when he broke into the scene and directed this (almost three years younger than me now, how depressing). While it is consistently thrilling and entertaining, Hard Eight oftentimes wears its influences on its sleeve too much. You can see how much inspiration Paul got from Tarantino with this film and it’s one of the 90s best independent movies. The star studded cast doesn’t hurt either.

#7 - Phantom Thread (2017) Runtime: 2 hr 10 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Renowned British dressmaker Reynolds Woodcock comes across Alma, a young, strong-willed woman, who soon becomes a fixture in his life as his muse and lover. Verdict: It’s safe to say that Phantom Thread is PTA’s most lavish and decadent film. It feels like a piece of ancient Hollywood golden-era cinema brought back to life. Johnny Greenwood’s orchestral score is the best sound work he’s ever done, it sweeps you off your feet when it goes along with Anderson’s signature arresting imagery. I’m in the minority who places this near the bottom of Anderson’s filmography, simply because Daniel Day Lewis’s character is so insufferable that it was hard for me to empathize in many ways. It still manages to be one of the most beautiful pieces of modern cinema.

#6 - Inherent Vice (2014) Runtime: 2 hr 28 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

In Los Angeles at the turn of the 1970s, drug-fueled detective Larry “Doc” Sportello investigates the disappearance of an ex-girlfriend.

Verdict: Inherent Vice is Paul Thomas Anderson’s most underrated gem. I’ll admit, when I first saw this film, I didn’t really dig it that much and immediately cast it aside as his weakest effort. However, after some maturity, a few more viewings, and also not 100% adoring Phantom Thread, I have developed an immense appreciation for this nonsensical Thomas Pynchon adaptation. Pynchon as a writer is known as being basically unadaptable, but PTA revels in the absurdity of the film’s labyrinth of a plot. It also brings PTA back to his former glory days of ensemble casts and stoner drug fueled mayhem.

#5 - Punch-Drunk Love (2002) Runtime: 1 hr 35 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A psychologically troubled novelty supplier is nudged towards a romance with an English woman, all the while being extorted by a phone-sex line run by a crooked mattress salesman, and purchasing stunning amounts of pudding.

Verdict: Punch-Drunk Love plays out like a symphony of color, texture, and absolutely off-putting social interactions. I understand that Adam Sandler had his comeback last year with Uncut Gems, but this film is actually without a doubt the best performance he’s ever pulled off. And I credit that largely in part to the brilliance of Paul who was working behind him. It’s what I would say one of the most unconventional romantic comedies of all time. It’s nerve wracking, a little sad, super awkward - but also somehow manages to be endearing as well. The percussion heavy score brings manic energy to the whole film. Punch-Drunk Love is also a powerful statement on loneliness, unchecked mental illness, and the power of human connection.

#4 - Boogie Nights (1997) Runtime: 2 hr 35 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 & 1.66 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Adult film director Jack Horner is always on the lookout for new talent and it's only by chance that he meets Eddie Adams who is working as a busboy in a restaurant. Eddie is young, good looking and plenty of libido to spare. Using the screen name Dirk Diggler, he quickly rises to the top of his industry winning awards year after year. Drugs and ego however come between Dirk and those around him and he soon finds that fame is fleeting.

Verdict: How this film possibly came from a director who is my age now is almost hard to believe. Boogie Nights is one of the quintessential 90s films. It has one of PTA’s best ensemble casts. Anderson’s sophomore effort was a result of the auteur finding his footing and his directorial voice that went on to enthrall audiences over several decades. PTA’s early visual motifs were lengthy and expertly choreographed tracking shots. Please refer to the scenes in the disco as well as the pool party scene pictured above for some of the best camera operation every committed to celluloid. Boogie Nights could possibly be hailed as PTA’s most consistently entertaining and audience friendly works. It’s a great story of the rise and fall of stardom.

#3 - There Will Be Blood (2007) Runtime: 2 hr 38 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A story of family, religion, hatred, oil and madness, focusing on a turn-of-the-century prospector in the early days of the business.

Verdict: Most critics and audiences would agree that There Will Be Blood is the director’s most impressive masterpiece (but who’s counting?). On a storytelling and technical level, I do have to agree that this is probably Paul Thomas Anderson’s best achievement, even if it isn’t exactly my personal favorite. This is the film where PTA really matured with his directorial vision. He abandoned a lot of his earlier flashy work with large casts and a constantly moving camera for something more grounded and more of a character study. There Will be Blood is the story of America in many ways. It’s the story of Capitalism. And how this system leads to so much bloodshed, greed, and hatred as man and man compete to have the most and be the best. This movie will surely stand the test of time and is a shining example of how groundbreaking modern American cinema can be.

#2 - Magnolia (1999) Runtime: 3 hr 8 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

An epic mosaic of interrelated characters in search of love, forgiveness, and meaning in the San Fernando Valley.

Verdict: Paul Thomas Anderson’s third film found the director taking everything he had learned on his previous two, and expanding on that knowledge and developing more layers to his characters who have never felt so fully realized. Magnolia is the director’s magnum opus. It is epic in its length - clocking in at a little over three hours, making it his longest film by far. It is ambitious in its storytelling approach. Many films utilize the style of a variety of seemingly unrelated characters who connect to each other, oftentimes in a synchronistic fashion as they go about the trials and tribulations of their lives. However Magnolia is one of the few that did it first, did it the best, and set the bar for all of the subpar imitations that would soon follow. It’s also profoundly beautiful in the statements that PTA was trying to make. Paul, just barely 30 years old at the time when this was released, most definitely had an emotional and intellectual maturity that is rarely seen within a director of that age range. Magnolia is about redemption, loss, forgiveness, love, and trying to keep your head above water as frogs rain down on your head.

#1 - The Master (2012) Runtime: 2 hr 18 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm & 70mm

Freddie, a volatile, heavy-drinking veteran who suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder, finds some semblance of a family when he stumbles onto the ship of Lancaster Dodd, the charismatic leader of a new “religion” he forms after World War II.

Verdict: I’ve always been drawn to films about cults. Something about social behavior and social roles within a cult organization is a really interesting study on a sociological, psychological and anthropological level. The Master takes the cult formula and turns it on its head in many ways, never once foraying into the territory of exploitation or tropes. It instead takes a wholly original approach to the story. I mean, it is Paul Thomas Anderson that we’re talking about here. Joaquin Phoenix delivers his most unhinged, and certainly his most impressive, performance of his career as a mentally damaged alcoholic war veteran with pretty severe PTSD. The Master is also in many ways the story of the founding father of Scientology - L. Ron Hubbard. However, let’s just say it is a Scientology movie “in disguise” as no real historical names are ever spoke, the word “Scientology” is never uttered once, and even the director himself refuses to admit that’s what it is about (I mean who can blame him? He once had to work with Tom Cruise). It is one of the most fascinating character studies I’ve ever seen. Not to mention, it is PTA’s most beautifully shot film in my opinion and Johnny Greenwood’s musical contributions to the score elevate this film to ultimate masterpiece status. By the end, I felt like I had just undergone a transcendent experience of sorts. I hope one day PTA can make a film that “wows” me ever more than this one does.

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deunan403 · 5 years ago

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Oh my gosh your ‘the name is English’ fanfic is so good. Any advice on getting like. The distinct voices of each of the characters? I’m just dabbling in homestuck fiction and I think I got Dave and rose and jade. But John and the alpha kids are hard

(Edited: I kept thinking about the mistakes I made in this explanation so I’ve finally gone back and fixed them pfffft, Also like... I think I might’ve misconstrued the kind of answer anon was going for, in which case, only the very end end of this long ass response is useful. Welp.)

SO FIRST OFF, I am insanely flattered anyone is asking my advice on how to write Homestuck characters because these are some of the most difficult characters I’ve ever written. Thank you so much! These kids each have an insane amount of dimension to them and I completely understand why they come off a bit intimidating to write correctly. I don’t even think I do that good of a job, lmao. Anywho, I’mma go ahead and apologize in advance because I got a little carried away with my advice. When I get to explaining things I like to over-explain and hope you just pick out what ends up bein actually useful to you. There is... a lot of shit under this cut, so be warned.

Hello! Welcome to this wordy as fuck space under the cut. (Edit: It won’t format correctly so ALL this bullshit under the cut. Thanks tumblr. SMD plz). Unfortunately I can't describe the way they talk without deconstructing a little bit on how I view each of their personalities because a part of me insists it's better to provide context and examples, so again, I'm sorry for these unnecessarily long ramblings. Skip to about the center of each paragraph if you want to focus on speech pattern-specific things, eheheheh.

John's pretty difficult for me too because his vernacular slate isn't as colorful as everyone else's, but this is kind of what I've come to understand about him: His general reaction to everything is a mixture of chipper and blasé--going with the flow. He kind of became the “straight man” in HS to combat the way everyone else was reacting to the wild shit that eventually went down. At face value, the way he talks makes him come off as a simple dude -- what you see is what you get, which isn't necessarily true. He's honest about his feelings but at the same time it seems like he has difficulty processing and understanding them, which makes them come through much milder than what you'd expect for the situation. It's probably why he absorbed his dad's death very slowly and got hit hard when it finally processed that he was gone for good. But not many things get all the way through his initial blaséness which actually makes him kind of callous in that he can give oddly indifferent responses to things others would consider a big deal, such as when Terezi died in front of him. He looked at her corpse and was just like "Eugh. She's so weird." Like damn dude, that’s cold. Ain’t like she bled to death or nothing. Anyway, some speech pattern specific things I keep in mind when I write him: He doesn't use a lot of big words, sticking to casual, simple responses, most of them positive or enthusiastic sounding. He sometimes uses old man speech and idioms, like Jake but toned down by like 85%. He's a bit slow on the uptake, points out the obvious, and says things that he thinks are clever but he's either completely missing the mark or being lame in general, not to say he can't sometimes be particularly sassy/savage, especially when it comes to his immediate friends because he knows them and can see through their bullshit better than he can with other people he doesn't know that well. In the chat client, he likes to divide combined words like "what ever" and "time line". If you're being canon compliant, he adopted some chat quirks from Vriska after they dated, such as multiplying punctuations by 8 for emphasis!!!!!!!! (edit: Ignore this last part. I think I may be thinking of a dead john, lmao.)

Jane's also a little difficult but easier than John since speech-wise, she's more of a balance between him and Jake + if they were super skeptical about everything and cared about being smart. She's actually kind of a wild card to me, because sometimes she has probably some of the most realistic reactions to the more ridiculous things in HS, but has grown used to equally ludicrous happenings such as the assassination attempts on her life in her intro. She also tends to wear her heart on her sleeve, and has quite the temper. She tries to override her more emotional responses with good southern manners because she's polite, god dammit! When her short fuse isn't ignited, her bottomless passion fuels her cheerfulness as well as her fearlessness. She's also pretty inquisitive, about the world around her as well as towards her friends, asking them questions to understand what they may be dealing with better. She tries really hard to be reasonable about things but struggles with letting other things that may be in play ruffle her well-kept feathers. Speech pattern-wise, she vacillates between speaking like a normal teen and a grandma, to a way lesser extent than Jake. Initially, she tries to keep it prim and proper--sophisticated like a southern suburban housewife with an interesting hint of embellished self-narrative like she's the protagonist of a Noir comic (like here), but when real shit starts to go down, she gets quite a bit more casual (like when they're on their quest slabs here). That is to say, I wouldn't say her normal way of talking is something that doesn't come naturally to her because it totally does, but she loses most of the laciness because short and to the point is better, which is the case for any of the kids with more flavorful quirks. She tends to steamroll over other people when she gets passionate about a topic, but when that's not happening, she's actually super accommodating, to the point of viciously ignoring her own feelings so she can be a voice of reason. In the chat client, she uses toothy emojis like :B.

Roxy, on the other hand, comes pretty easily for me because she's really similar to one of my closest friends and speaks much the same way we do when we're chill. We're also from the south, where much of the youth talk like Roxy does, lmao. Roxy is probably the most accommodating of any of the kids, readily bending over backwards to cater to her friends' needs and letting her own needs take a backseat, which probably leads to a lot of resentment she keeps buried. But she's still the chillest one, taking just about everything in stride before and after her alcoholism. She tends to get sad before she ever gets angry. And if she does get angry, it's usually only frustration at others for being difficult. Communication-wise, she's the most shorthanded--thinking and living in chat-speak. She's all about living her best life and taking care of her family so things are fun and peaceful. She wants to be super sure of herself (like Dirk) because she wants to be reliable. When talking, she likes to use a bunch of metaphors (again, like Dirk), and she tends to casually throw in a lot of puns too, such as when she tells Jake that they're still "humanated" when he asks if he's alienated her too. The nature of her responses is typically pretty flippant, even when things are serious. It's probably obvious that getting comfortable with general Ebonics will help a lot when writing her. In chat client, I try to remember these things: typos only happen when she's drunk--when typing her drunk, I avoid actively trying to give her slurred speech. Instead, I kind of let my fingers type a little more haphazardly and leave the typos I made that sound like mistakes she would make. She only tries to correct a small portion of her typos, more frequently the closer she is to sobriety. When she IS sober, her shorthand isn't consistent. One sentence she'll write "u" and the next, she'll write "you". Same thing with "2" and "to" or "4" and "for", etc. She'll cut out unnecessary letters in words, use typical chat abbrevs, and only use singular letters in place of a whole word, like "y" for "yes". Also uses smileys and other signs like <3. She's super fun for me to write because she comes away with a general feeling of "lmao" if that makes any sense.

Jake I'm always worried I'm doing wrong but he seems to be the one people love my characterization of the most so far, lmao. So I guess I must be doing something right. The thing about Jake is he wants to be the "likeable character". He takes what people want in a guy and molds that into this garbled persona. So when he talks to others, even his friends, he tries to be super agreeable, positive and supportive, regardless of the subject matter; he’s always talking these people up to make them feel good about themselves so that they enjoy conversing with him. But the reality is that he's extremely (but not necessarily intentionally) self-centered. He also aggressively ignores anything negative or forcefully turns it into something positive even when it doesn't make sense. He only tends to express frustration when others (Dirk) are being difficult; I don't remember if he ever actually gets angry in the comic?? He also likes to express surprise/amazement at things (a lot more than the other kids do at least), at the beginning of his responses, even when someone says something that's particularly obvious. The thing that gets me about Jake is that his superficial shell is so impenetrable, I don't think that issue was ever really fully addressed, much less fixed in HS, which leaves a lot of questions about his character & several different but valid interpretations of him by the audience. He may very well actually just be an oblivious idiot who's suffered brain damage one too many times (there's not too many pieces of supporting evidence to negate this) but I personally like to think Jake is far more complicated than that. I mean, look at how many convos he's grabbed the helm of and steered into a completely different direction just so he doesn't have to deal with something. His speech is probably the one I have to look up references for the most because he uses a fuckton of idioms you'd only hear one’s well-meaning but probably unintentionally racist poppop use, and a weird mixture of western/country and british vocab + bro speech he probably adopted while talking to Dirk. This is one list I find super useful when trying to find words to use (bless this person), but I still have to google a bunch of goofy phrases and words to be sure I'm not exhausting my material. One thing I know I do wrong when it comes to Jake's speech is use modern British slang such as "bloody" and "bloke", which is something he absolutely never does but I use them anyways because... idfc, I guess, idk. lol, I acknowledge it so it's fine.

Dirk is probably the one that comes easiest to me because he and I behave and talk pretty similarly. Either that, or I just like to think that and I'm just projecting while writing him completely wrong, lmao. Either way, Dirk hides behind the fact that he's super chill and levelheaded when really he's a nervous paranoid wreck. He's always thinking and overthinking about everything and he never gives himself a god damn break. He calculates every response he gives so it comes off exactly the way he wants it to, so when it doesn't because he's caught off guard, you get to see these little snippets of this dude freaking out underneath. He's a neurotic control freak that makes sure the flow of conversation stays on a set course he wants it to or else he gets either uncomfortable or pissed off. He skirts around anything that might get personal to him and dismisses any focus that sheds light on his own emotions UNLESS he feels, again, that he can control that flow of conversation. Or he's already emotionally compromised. Either way, he avoids conditions that might catch him actually being vulnerable because he's just too fuckin' proud. He likes to make a lot of comparisons, using extended metaphors and milking the fuck out of them if he can get away with it because the more he talks, the more he feels in control. He likes to smoothly play along with people he finds are being ridiculous, like Jake and Caliborn, or even just because he knows they'll know he's just playing along like Roxy. That's a key thing for me actually--how much he likes to fuck with people and how inelegantly he takes it in those rare cases someone successfully fucks with him. His speech seems to be a balance between Rose and Dave, a chill bro with access to the biggest vocabulary ever. I encourage aiming towards sounding like a pretentious asshole when writing Dirk because that's what he is all the time sometimes. He likes to Dirk-splain because more often than not he knows exactly what he's talking about, but he also doesn't realize his Dirk-splaining is something no one needed or asked for. Even though he's acknowledged and now resents the ludicrous size of his own ego, he still struggles with not stroking it at every opportunity. He’s a super capable, reliable guy and he knows it, but the reality is that much of what he plans for doesn’t work out. It’s only when he and his friends are really in the shit and he doesn’t have time to think that instinct takes over and he ends up doing some hella amazing things (Unite: Synchronization). That’s why his whole thought process of being better off alone is dangerous--he’s capable because he has people he loves relying on him. (I went off on a tangent unrelated to speech here. I’m sorry. I got a lot of feelings about Dirk and his selfishness vs. his selflessness, lol)

With all that, these are some general notes I try to abide by:

The ramblers of the kids are Dirk, Dave, and Jake, the former two especially when they're anxious. Dave's definitely the worst in that regard. The Striders both act like they wanna come off as men of few words and both fail miserably; it seems like being forced to live in verbal silence for a good portion of their lives gave both of these social wrecks a stigma against any gaps in conversation. Jake on the other hand rambles because he's self-important, not unlike Dirk. It's almost like he's not sure how else to contribute to the conversation if it's not about movies or himself.

For me, it actually helps that I think Dirk and Jake may both be on the spectrum. (I'm sorry if the following offends anyone who is on the spectrum, but this is just my general experience talking to people with those conditions). It certainly explains why their joint communication is so shit and why they either both give long-winded explanations that no one really asks for, or extract themselves from conversations they don't have a good foothold in, the latter being way more common for Jake (I hint a little at all this in my fic, moreso for Jake via Dirk's observations). They both want to be heard but may have difficulty being good listeners because their heads are already filled to the brim with things that have been cycling since before the other person has started talking.

On a final note, I find it pretty important to note the changes in each character's demeanor and way of talking after certain things happen. A glaring example is the Alpha Kids' behaviors after the batshit candy juju episode they all had. When Jake's broken out of his glorified, overwhelmingly positive fake self-image, he's actually very self-critical. However, his self-centeredness is hard to break out of, so when he broods on all the flaws he'd ignored in favor of being the guy everyone likes, he directed all of his nervous energy into finding reassurance from Roxy. (This self-deprecation could've also been born from his constant need to be agreeable, so since he thought everyone considered him to be a piece of shit, he felt the need to agree that was the case. Depends on how you read it.) Roxy had a shorter fuse and was a bit more snappy and resistant to dealing with Jake's ridiculousness. Jane remained calm and acknowledged she can be a bit too stubborn and self-righteous. Dirk finally took a step back from the details and absorbed the big picture of his problematic expectations toward his friends and himself. It’s just something to keep in mind if you fear you’re getting kind of OOC with their personalities. It’s natural for people to behave different based on changes in their mood, so don’t be afraid to experiment.

All that being said (I lied about that final note), I go back and reference the comic a lot when I’m unsure whether I’m representing a character accurately. It’s a good habit to double-check yourself. If you’re unsure how you’re writing a response but wanna move on, write it the best you can and then come back to it later and revise after reading a few conversations that include that character.

Most importantly of all: the thesaurus is your fucking best friend of all time. Fuck everyone else. The thesaurus is your god damn hero. I find “define:”ing words on google actually super helpful when trying to find synonyms that work better for me.

But that’s it! I hope you found at least a few things helpful in that word splurge of fumbling analyses. And thanks a bunch for reading my fic! It’s not super popular so it’s reassuring to know there are people out there who really enjoy it. Keeps me trying to update regularly at the very least.

#anon #deunantalks #hs #deunanrambles for fuckin days #stfudeunan #ask

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the-fangirl-way · 5 years ago

Text

1: Documents

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed the epilogue I posted yesterday. I've written 16 chapters to this story so far, all of them on Wattpad, if this gets a decent amount of likes I will continue posting a chapter a day. I hope you guys like this one too. Thank you!

"Officer Delaney." Harry corrected, the smirk growing on his face.

"You look good."

"Thank you." I said shaking off his compliment, bribery would get him nowhere although he never failed to try.

I took notice to his clothes, the last time I had seen him he was still adorned in the orange jumpsuit all inmates wear on their first months of being incarcerated, Harry had now surpassed the six month mark and was wearing an official gray jumpsuit.

"I see you've adjusted, no longer wearing orange." I said eyeing him and he shrugged.

"It's a change of pace, orange never really complimented me very well anyway."

"Right." I stated before clicking the pen in front of me again.

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Harry said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

I reached up to flip on the camcorder and then settled the lens on him.

"Harry Styles, male, twenty four, conviction of attempt of First Degree Murder and sentenced to twelve months until trial." I said and Harry looked unfazed by the information, almost at ease.

"How have you been..adjusting?" I asked and he shrugged, looking at the wall behind me.

This was the most frustrating part, trying to get answers for a case, and never getting anywhere.

"I'm meeting with the DA this week Harry, they're going to want some sort of facts to go off of when they represent you in court." I stated and he didn't blink, didn't move, just sat there, stoney silence.

"Where were you July 9th, 2015 Harry?"

Silence.

"Why were you in Mr. Langston's home?"

Silence.

"The police think you were there because you were waiting for him."

More sufferable silence.

"....Where'd you get the gun Harry?" I mumbled the last part and his eyes met mine but he said nothing.

"You're not helping yourself. If you can't give me anything but silence I can't work out details and try to help you get out of this." I said sighing and he didn't falter.

"I spoke to your mother last week." I said and that was the first time he made any kind of facial expression other than blank.

"She's worried about you Harry, she wants you to-"

"You don't have any fucking clue what my mother wants." He snapped and I leaned back in my chair folding my arms across my chest.

"Then tell me." I said and he clenched and unclenched his jaw, never saying a word.

"I want to help you, Harry, God help me I want to help you get out of this mess, I just need to understand your motives so I can. Please, throw me a bone." I said and he just sat there, staring at the table, at his hands, at the wall, everywhere but me.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled. He was so infuriating and I was losing my wits one at a time.

"There is nothing you can do to help me." He said finally, and I sighed a forlorn sigh.

"You always say that but I can help you, you just have to be willing to let me help you."

Harry just raked his fingers through his messy hair and went back to being silent.

A few moments passed, the ticking of the clock behind me on the wall was the only sound in the room and although our session wasn't up for another fifteen minutes I had to get out of that room.

Harry's complexion had changed just since the last time I had seen him, about three weeks ago.

He had gone from a nice olive tone to pale, his pink lips were paling as well. His cheekbones were more prominent than last time, my guess was he hadn't been eating.

His hair had grown, but it was greasy looking and ratty, I guessed prison showers weren't the best either.

He was picking at the skin around his nails when I sighed again, clicking the pen and closing the file, his eyes lifted to look at me.

"I guess that's it then. I'll be seeing you in the next few days for a follow up." I said flipping off the camcorder and slipping it back into my bag with the file and my pen.

"In the meantime, please consider giving me some information, or at least take a shower." I said scrunching up my nose and he smirked finally.

"Duly noted." He said and I motioned for the officers to come back in, they entered and Lennon escorted me out while the others stayed with Harry until I was gone.

"Seeing as how you've still got ten minutes until the session is over, I'm guessing he didn't talk today either?" He asked, and I shook my head in frustration.

"No, and I just need a small sliver of information to connect the dots. It's all so frustrating." I said and Lennon nodded.

"Maybe next time."

"You always say that." I said and he smiled a charming smile.

"Let me walk you out to your car."

I nodded as we stepped back into the rain, he opened my umbrella for me and held it above our heads, it was big enough for two.

When we got to the car he turned to me and smiled.

"So I was thinking maybe tomorrow night if you weren't doing anything we could go get dinner? Maybe catch a movie?"

I nodded, a nice date would take away the stress of this case and I needed a little time off.

"Sure, sounds good." I said and he smiled.

"I'll pick you up at 7?" He asked and I agreed before getting into my car, he waved as I drove away.

It was already going on five when I got back to the agency and I had to hand in my blank file to the head of directors before punching out for the evening.

I tapped lightly on my boss's office door, Mr. Callahan.

He was sitting in his office chair on the phone and he waved politely at me telling me to come in and have a seat, he would be with me in a moment.

His office was twice the size of mine, for obvious reasons, the walls littered with awards off accomplishments he'd made in the bureau since the twenty years he had worked for the FBI.

"Just have them fax me the information and I'll send you an email about it tomorrow." He told whoever was on the phone before hanging up.

"DeLaney." He greeted me with a smile.

"Mr. Callahan." I said, my stomach in knots, I knew he wasn't going to be satisfied with my empty report.

"About to head out?" He questioned and I nodded.

"Yes sir, I was just coming to hand in my file."

"Oh right, the Styles case."

"Yes sir." I said looking down at my hands.

"Nothing today I'm assuming?" He said then and the knot grew bigger at the conviction in his voice.

"No sir. He's just not cracking. I'm trying all I can-"

"DeLaney, I don't need you to just try I need you to do all that you can. The DA is meeting with you next week correct?" He asked.

"Yes sir, and as to date right now I have only a handful of information I can deliver to them to put on their file." I said and he rubbed his hands together, a trait he did when he was agitated or thinking.

"DeLaney," He started, "I put you on this case because you're smart, you're one of the few that graduated with honors and one of the few that have proven to me that you can do this job."

I nodded, my gratitude for Dirk Callahan was endless. He had given me a shot at this job when I had just gotten out of college three years ago, and he had putten me on cases far worse than this one, granted; the clients were easier.

"I took a big risk hiring you with no previous work experience, but I saw potential in you that I hadn't seen in years. And you've proven to me in the past that you can uphold my decision to hire you so early by doing a damn good job." He said pausing.

"Thank you sir." I started but he held up a hand, silencing me.

"With that being sad, I don't expect any less of you on this case. I know Harry Styles is being a pain in the ass right now, probably more so than other clients you've dealt with. But I believe that with your determination you can get it out of him, so for the next seventy two hours I want you on constant Harry research, dig into every file you can involving Harry Styles, his mother, his father, aunts, uncles, cousins, anyone you can find that may have any leads on what happened that night with him and Mr. Langston. Do a background on Langston too, find any information that you can." He said pulling a paper out of his desk and handing it to me.

"This, is the access code to every single human beings file this side of the United Kingdom, it will allow you to find out anything you need to know." He said and I could have hugged him.

"Thank you so much sir." I said standing up, pulling the file out of my bag and handing to him.

"No need." He said waving it away. "Whatever you find add it to the file."

I nodded, reaching out to shake his hand.

"I'll see you Monday morning." He said and I nodded before heading out of his office, before heading back to my office to collect my things before clocking out.

"Headed home?" Julian, a coworker, asked me when I reached the clock out desk.

"Finally." I said huffing and he laughed.

"Long day?"

"Incredibly."

He nodded understanding and I punched in my clock out number before digging my keys and umbrella out of my bag.

"Have a good weekend." Julian said and I smiled warmly at him before retreating out the door into the night air.

It was just going on seven when I pulled up to my apartment, the air had gotten colder and the rain coming down felt like ice pellets, it was early December, no doubt we would be seeing snow in the next few weeks.

I unlocked the door to my apartment, the light was on and a wonderful smell was wafting in the air as I entered, meaning my roommate and best friend Devlin was home.

Devlin Johansson had been my best friend since grade school, she was a year younger than me and had graduated a year after I did from Stanford. She was smart, funny, and beautiful. Dark hair and hazel eyes, she was curvy and had all the guys after her. She worked at the local hospital as a pediatric nurse and worked around the clock hours.

"I'm home!" I said setting my purse down in the chair beside the door and shrugging off my jacket, hanging across the back of the chair.

"Ave! I'm making spaghetti!" She shouted from the kitchen, I hung my keys on the key rack and kicked off my shoes before heading that way.

"It smells delicious." I said turning the corner, she was wearing an apron and her long hair was tied up in a bun on her head.

"Taste it." She said spooning some of the sauce out and holding it up for me to try.

It had a great tomato basil and garlic taste, it was also sort of tangy.

"Well?" She pressed.

"Another cooking success." I said and she smiled a wide smile.

"Really? You don't think it needs anything?"

"Nothing but to be in my stomach." I said and she laughed.

"How was work?"

"Ugh, frustrating." I said opening the fridge, bending down to get a bottle of water.

"Styles again today?" She asked and I nodded.

"Yes, and again I got absolutely nothing."

"I'm telling you, waterboard him." She said stirring the noodles and I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

"If only. How was work for you?" I asked taking a sip of my water.

"It was okay, I got off early which never happens, but Dr. Stevens asked me out, again." She said and I smirked.

"And you said?"

"I said..I said I'd think about it." She said rolling her eyes.

"He's so persistent."

"Yeah, but he's hot." I said she snorted.

"He's cocky." She corrected and I shrugged.

"You say cocky, I say hottie."

"Well, he's going to have to do a lot more than compliment my scrubs before he gets a date with me." She said and I laughed.

"Well, I'm going to take a shower. Did anyone call?"

"Your mom did, and I think your sister tried calling earlier."

"I'll call them both back when I get out of the shower." I said and she nodded.

"Dinner will be ready probably in another thirty minutes or so."

I headed out of the kitchen and up the stairs, our apartment was considerably big and spacious, we had really lucked out when renting it, the people who lived here before us had just moved out when we called about it.

I pulled off my blouse and skirt and stripped down before getting into a hot shower, the water cascaded over my shoulders and down my back, relaxing my muscles.

I thought about Harry and the case and I groaned, I was going to spend the next three days trying to find out information on him that I wasn't sure I wanted to know, he was so pensive all the time, so mysterious except when he was being charming.

I washed off and then shut the water off before stepping out, retrieving my towel and wrapping it around myself and my hair.

I got dressed in an old pair of cotton shorts and a tee shirt before heading back downstairs, the smell of the food made my stomach growl, I had skipped lunch.

Devlin was setting the table when I entered the kitchen, a big bowl of spaghetti and meatballs sat in the middle, surrounded by a bowl of tossed salad and garlic bread, it looked and smelled heavenly.

Dinner was delicious as per usual when Devlin cooked, she had missed her calling on culinary school.

We loaded the dishes into the dishwasher and she retreated off to the living room to watch some tv, I called my mom and my sister. Both of them were fine, just checking up to see how things were, moving across the the continent was a change for our family, but they were happy that Devlin had decided to move with me to London when I got the opportunity with the FBI agency so that I would have someone to stay with.

I got off the phone with them and decided to start my research on Harry, figuring now was as good a time as any. I headed up stairs and grabbed my laptop, settling on the bed with it, and the file I dove in.

#harrystylessmut #harry #harrystyles #harry styles fanfction #harry styles fandom #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #solo harry #harry styles #harry smut #harry styles smut

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snowtimeisbesttime · 5 years ago

Text

Thoughts and questions on Pesterquest Volume 5, routes 1 and 2!

also: sollux for volume 6 (route 2) you (might have) heard it here first

-The trolls' Prospit is still perfectly fine when we see it, as we still haven't done away with SGRUB. In Kanaya's route we see Alternia's Reckoning, the Land of Little Cubes and Tea, and our favorite rainbow drinker fan hunting for frogs in the clouds; meanwhile in Karkat's we straight up see his dreamself- who winks out of existence when he wakes up. John's did that too when he woke up after Prospit fell on the Battlefield, but I had thought dreamselves just teleported to their dream room's bed when the waking self woke up.

-Actually, I'm pretty sure we've seen dreamselves just existing on the moons when their counterpart is awake: John's before Descend, Vriska's in Make Her Pay, Dave's being on the computer and of course Dirk switching between dream and real selves, Roxy's flying out of Derse, Jane's when she dream revived (??), and maybe more I'm not remembering. Of course, dead dreamselves such as Aradia's or Jake's can't go anywhere.

-Possible candidates for Volume 6 basically trolls who were namedropped or had a cameo: Sollux (VERY likely imo, he had a good bunch of screentime in Karkat's route), Terezi (very likely too, as she's also a Peak Protagonist troll), Gamzee (less likely than the other two imo, though MC's been to his hive already), Vriska (could or could not........ it's a gam8le.)

-Worldbuilding: *happens* Me: *burning through my good note-taking pens*

~ROUTE 2~

-Now to Kanaya's route proper: she's got sunproof dresses just lying around. Very nice sunproof dresses, in fact. (the clothes collecting tradition goes on...)

-Rose immediately comes up on MC's mind when they look at Kanaya's room, though she's dealing with another Light player herself. Whose cameo here was practically expected, in hindsight. ::::)

-We find out that Vriska had been planning the whole Pupa Pan thing for Tavros for a good while. (Probably since she started planning Aradia's gift at least, though that was both a bigger project and also an... easier-to-see fix to what she'd done to her).

-And now that we've seen Kanaya's side of this, the panel where she finds out what the dress was for hurts a lot more.

(-actually kanaya spends a good bunch of her entire volume being sad??? and so does karkat??? and ofc jade did too????? That’s Fucking Illegal Let My Children Be Happy At Once)

-mc still remembers their movie date with polypa...... the feelings at least

-MC encourages Kanaya to finally tell Vriska how she feels, and it turns out she wants to be matesprits too... and it ends horribly. (Rose's bad route also seemed to be going perfectly well until it didn't).

-We don't know how much of the week she was out was spent travelling between their respective hives, though. (did she fucking run there and back???)

(-Kanaya's heart eyes, motherfucker sprite has jade eyes while Karkat's terrified sprite has grey eyes. Further fancy-eyed friends will probably have their associated color as well.)

-And by the time Vriska might have felt what Kanaya felt (the 3-way showdown) instead of just using her for her own benefit, it was too late.

-Bright colors seem to be a rainbow drinker thing, specifically? As opposed to being Alternian goth... (daraya's route explicitly states that she looks goth because she's wearing a lot of black, when she's actually one of the Troll Call trolls that wears the least black. What is the truth? We just don't know....). Meanwhile, chainsaws seem to be the go-to weapon of rainbow drinker hunters, like stakes are for us...

-Kanaya doesn't want a vampire gf, she wants to be the vampire gf! And before MC realizes that, they come way too close to a bunch of murderzombies. Now we know they can choose who they zap with them, with potentially disarming side effects!

-Undead blood is black like His Honorable Tyranny's, and probably something you should NOT put in your mouth.

-Sadly, Kanaya doesn't get to actually talk to the Tentacle Therapist herself, though she is assured that she'd like her. Mayhaps some other time, they will finally meet... hopefully in person.

~ROUTE 1~

-Weird knowledge of alien stuff absolutely takes a backseat to Friendship. Good to know retcon powers have an aim assist of sorts too.

-Karkat's theme gets a remix like John's Pesterquest one!!!!

-Karkat himself is as fucking zen as ever. And while he's got a wonderful good end (as in what happens -wise), his bad ends -all his routes even- are VERY much sadstuck to compensate.

(-Especially his short one... he finds out he's not the only being in the world besides his lusus with crimson blood, because he just murdered the other one... and then you think about how he immediately warms up to MC in his good route, and how he did the same with -past- Spades Slick, and then how his dreamself died in canon...)

-He can project his voice very well, just like a certain other someone who wore a cloak... Actually no shit he thinks ancestors are bullshit (besides vriska & eridan being 2 out of 3 trolls he knows that are into that stuff, and all that), his own's the most illegal one so neither him nor the aforementioned trolls he knows that are into that stuff would have found much stuff... (even Mindfang stuck to sneaking just the sym69ls in her journal).

-Did he paint his nails? If not, who did?

-Of course he'd notice this random alien was very warm. What he didn't know is that we're less cullable than we look like- case in point, Folykl. (actually, do we still have Plot Armor?)

-...Who was Gamzee talking to when we zapped into his broom closet? And why did Karkat freak out so much when he came close? He did know Gamzee was a clown, iirc... was he just leaking psychic spoops or what??

-The second Karkat finds out MC and him have the same blood color, they became friends in his eyes.

-Sollux (is here!!) kinda calls back to Dave in Volume 1, after Karkat and him finish their regular greetings and get to the point of the conversation. Hacking into the caste records is incredibly illegal, though Sollux's more than willing to risk being culled for Karkat*.

-We know there was an Adalov way before Hivebent time, but we don't know if that's our Adalov- and sadly MC doesn't get the chance to even hear that name. (it's too soon still.)

-How do we get rid of SGRUB? We take Karkat “The Fucking Leader” Vantas to Earth, obviously! Where he'll be able to play various skate games, bond with the kids over games left unplayed, and escape a certain death. Wonder how everyone’ll react to him disappearing...

-Narratively Unimportant Traits 1: dave loves olive garden's breadsticks!! Narratively Unimportant Traits 2: ...because he can eat a lot of them when otherwise he might not get to eat much of anything Narratively Unimportant Traits 3: karkat's been years perfecting hiding from drones that will kill him if they so much as detect his body temperature, and it's implied he may have been moving (will keep moving) from hive to hive as needed all this time because of the early warning systems, which warn him of his hive being about to go up in flames and killing everything inside it- including his lusus. We're in Hivebent's timeframe, but considering his good route's what takes SGRUB out, he might not even have turned 13 yet.

-Karkat's bad route ends with him just leaving, shrouded in Signless callbacks, after being put on a cull list not even retcon powers can escape from. ...That's also a way to get rid of SGRUB, I guess.

*Back to Sollux being a likely choice for volume 6- in Karkat's bad route, he repeatedly tells Karkat to come to his hive, after seeing him on the cull list and knowing there's drones after him. He knows and explicitly doesn't give a fuck about him being a mutant (though he doesn't seem to know how exactly is he a mutant). The last thing he tells him is “don't make me tell you how much i hate you.”

After that, he doesn't hear anything more from Karkat because he throws his palmhusk away, and then he just leaves into the wilderness. And even if we get the typical Friendsim timeline smoothie shenanigans, Karkat's on Earth in his good route and we don't know if he can still contact his friends. (Sollux can hear the imminently deceased. There's the chance that he might hear from Karkat one last time.)

If we do get the timeline smoothie, that's a hell of a motivation to seek out MC. (And even if we only follow the good route, Karkat still dropped off the face of Alternia after asking Sollux to hack the caste records and telling him MC was in his hive.)

#pesterquest #homestuck #kanaya maryam #karkat vantas #sollux captor #pesterquest spoilers #thoughts and questions #long post #just in case

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gal-liveblogs · 5 years ago

Text

Time for more Homestuck 2.

Well, we’re back in space and with a ship (that seems to be crashing), but it isn’t Dirk’s ship. Is this the Rose Rescue Squad? The Dirk Demolition Crew?

Why would you design your space craft like a sea vessel with smoking pipes on the sides?

Well I certainly didn’t expect the interior to be so stark or purple.

WAIT WHAT? FIRST PERSON? WHO IS CONTROL OF THE NARRATIVE RIGHT NOW? Given the lack of capitalization I should be able to pinpoint who it is, but I’m too discombobulated by the first person and too interested in continuing to stop and ponder it much further.

Oh. Hello Jade. Or should I say, Calliope? Yeah, I guess the first person narration should have been a dead give away that it was you since we’re clearly not dealing with Dirk right now. So what are you up to, being all spooky and junk?

Why are you scaring poor Kark- IS THAT DAVE WITH HIM? Right. Right, yeah, they are officially a couple. No maybe we’re dating, maybe we’re not and hiding their feelings, they came out as a couple. Right. Still, it’s so weird to see them just sharing a bed and not being 20ft apart in obvious romantic tension.

I’m sure this was 100% critical information you needed to relay in the spookiest manner possible while Karkat was trying to sleep.

Karkat is wearing Dave’s shirt.

Jade’s outfit is so freaking cute. How is it that she always got the most fashionable outfits?

The black eyes with a green glow actually looks really nice.

Yeah, non-possessed Jade tried to pull a similar situation and we’ve seen the three-way relationship just doesn’t work out.

You know, I always thought dead!Calliope and Dave had the same text color, but now that I’m really looking at it I think Dave’s red is slightly darker. Huh.

Seriously, what was the purpose of this wake-up call?

Oh hey! Our first visual representation of Roxy after their change in gender identity!

Oh, and I just realized I think Dave is wearing Karkat’s shirt.

Roxy’s short hair is cute.

Oh my god, you two!

Dave continuing to strive for familial labels and correcting himself with Roxy and Roxy continuing being chill with whatever gives me life. I really love when these two interact.

Either Kanaya grew out her hair or she’s wearing a cloak. In either case it’s making me really sad seeing her sitting alone in the dark. I’m sure she’s been dealing with a lot of emotions since Dirk took Rose away and also messed with her own perceptions of the event.

Cloak it is and OH MY GOD SHE’S WEARING A LITTLE PURPLE ROSE MY HEART CAN’T TAKE THIS.

Never change, Dave.

Nice to see the return of the purple sash, though now more a Rose shade than an Eridan shade. I also appreciate the jade side panel.

You really think the only person who would do that is Karkat? Not John or Jake? Granted you never really hung out with Jake and as far as I’m aware you think John is missing, but still.

This line just hit me really hard and is pretty much exactly what I expected. Can’t have someone make you think of something when you’re already thinking about it and it’s really the only thing you ever think about anymore.

Oh no, I should have kept reading. It keeps punching me in the good writing feels.

Wow, that’s a concept I hadn’t considered before. When you’re in love with a literal god of relevancy are your affections truly your own or simply a symptom of their powers? When something reminds you of them is it really your own perception or is reality forcing you to be reminded of them? Such contemplations must be doubly so for Kanaya since she’s already experienced a different god warping her own sense of reality and self to his whims.

Good guy Dave coming in to roundhouse kick that navel gazing.

Dave is just... such a good guy, you guys. I am so glad he exists to be friends with Kanaya.

DAVE IS SO SWEET AND GOOD.

Dave are you... are you seriously going to start rapping about all this? Of course you are, and that’s just another reason why we love you.

These characters’ collective situation is really fucked up when you stop and think about it.

This is simultaneously heartbreaking and hilarious.

Hey, Terezi didn’t die!

It’s kind of funny how not interested Roxy is in this conversation with Karkat. Karkat’s just rambling on and Roxy is just doing a tick above verbal grunts and ends with “yeah, so do you want breakfast or not, dude?”

#gal liveblogs #homestuck 2 #homestuck 2 liveblog

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protecticarus · 6 years ago

Note

hello! a prompt: would u be able to write an au set just after todd dropped out of college, where his parents hire dirk as like a carer of some sort for todd's pararibulitis?? and dirk is like fresh-ish out of blackwing and kind of a disaster trying to get a life together, and whether todd has it for reals first time round is up to you but idk I'd love to see something like this!! thank u sm and love ur work!!

I like this! this ended up focusing much more on todd than dirk, but I did drop some angsty blackwing references in there because, well... I’m me.

& thank you so much for reading & liking xx

“A… what? You got me a what?” Todd stuttered into his phone.

“A caretaker!” His mother’s excited voice came through the phone.

“I’m- is that really necessary though? I’ve been doing fine on my own.” Todd assured her.

“Oh honey, I know, but I just feel terrible not being able to be there for you and you didn’t want to move back home, so… I’d feel so much better knowing you’re being taken care of!” His mother replied.

Todd squeezed his eyes shut and wished for a miracle to get him out of this. But he knew his mother well enough.

“Mom… I appreciate it but you’ve done enough-“ He tried to argue one more time.

“Todd, please, for me?” His mother interrupted.

Todd sighed. She knew what she was doing.

“I… Okay.” He finally caved.

“Okay?” His mother confirmed.

“Yes, okay. I’ll… meet with this caretaker person. See if it’s a fit.” Todd mumbled.

“Oh, honey, I already hired him.” His mother piped in.

“You- what!? And him?” Todd exclaimed.

“Yes, Todd, I hired a nice sounding young man to take care of you.” His mother explained.

Todd covered his phone’s microphone and kicked his couch. His plan had been to push off setting a meeting and if he had to, meet this person but tell his mother it wasn’t a fit. It was a bit more difficult now that his mother had already agreed to pay this… ‘young man.’

“Shouldn’t you have waited for me to sign off on this? Mom, I’m the one he’s gonna… take care off.” Todd finally said through gritted teeth, cringing at the idea of a strange man having to take care of him.

“I’m sorry, honey, I just want what’s best for you, you know that. This disease is difficult, I only want you to have the best life possible.” His mother replied. Todd could tell she was getting emotional.

“I know, mom… I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll try.” He said quietly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Todd!” His mother celebrated.

Todd sighed again. “Yeah… so, when’s this guy starting then?”

Next monday, the doorbell rang for the first time in months.

Todd took a deep breath and rolled his eyes before going to open the door. This was going to be a long day.

Todd had no intention of having this man in his house for longer than a day, but he knew he had to suffer through at least 24 hours. For his mother.

As soon as Todd pulled the door open, he heard a cheery British accent greet him.

“Hello! Are you Todd? I certainly hope so. I am terrible with maps, though, so I’m only 50% sure.”

Todd took a moment to take in what was in front of him.

This guy couldn’t be older than 22 or 23. He had floppy auburn hair and a smile that was way too big for a first day at a job, yet it didn’t seem out of place on his face. He was wearing an obnoxiously bright turquoise jacket. His hand was raised in a wave. Not a handshake, a wave.

Todd cleared his throat. “Uh… yeah, I’m Todd. I’m guessing you’re Dirk?”

The Brit’s eyes lit up at the mention of his name, like it was the first time he heard his name said out loud.

“Yes! That is me. I’m Dirk. Gently. Dirk Gently. That’s my name.”

Todd blinked a couple of times. “Right… so, you wanna come in or?”

Dirk jumped into motion. “Yes, I do!” He replied and stomped past Todd into the apartment.

“So, my mom says you don’t have previous experience as a caretaker?” Todd said, already listing reasons to tell his mother this arrangement didn’t work out.

“Oh, yes, or no, I suppose, but I’m very eager to learn! All I’ve wanted to do is help people. And you’re people. As far as I know!” Dirk replied.

Todd found himself taken aback by Dirk’s… eccentric energy every time he opened his mouth.

“Yeah. Okay.” Todd mumbled as a response. “I don’t really need much help, though. I’m fine on my own.”

Dirk smiled. “Well, your mother said otherwise.”

Todd sighed. “Yeah, well, you know moms. They worry.”

Something changed in Dirk’s demeanor and for a moment he looked… almost sad, but before Todd could analyze much, the cheery disposition was back.

“Well, your mother filled me in on this pararibulitis business but I have to say I’ve never heard of it before! Is there something you want me to help you with especially?” Dirk asked as he picked up several of Todd’s items from the coffee table to inspect.

Todd sighed. This was going to be a long day.

At the end of the day, Todd laid in his bed, going over the events of the day. Somehow… he hadn’t told Dirk to leave.

He had absolutely meant to. It was on the tip of his tongue. Yet… Dirk Gently was currently sleeping in his guest room.

Dirk had just… talked and talked and suddenly it was late and by the time Todd was ready to tell Dirk to leave, Dirk had asked if he needed anything and when Todd said no, Dirk retired to the guest room.

Seemed like getting rid of Dirk Gently was going to be harder than Todd had thought.

A week after Dirk had moved in, Todd started to accept that he had a roommate. Dirk was just always going to be there now.

Todd would tell him to go shop for groceries so he could have some time to himself, and Dirk would be gone for 20 minutes and then sit next to Todd as he played the guitar and talk his ear off.

Dirk asked more questions than anyone Todd had ever met. At times, Todd felt like he was being interviewed. In the beginning, Todd assumed his mother had asked Dirk to ask things and report back to her, but already towards the end of the first night it became clear to Todd that Dirk was just nosy.

Dirk also had significant lacks in common knowledge. He’d seen an AC/DC album and asked what band had an album about learning the alphabet. He’d pointed out Gandalf from a Lord of the Rings ad on tv and asked if he was a famous celebrity.

The most strange thing about Dirk though? Sometimes he would answer a question Todd had yet to ask out loud. Or bring Todd his phone about 5 seconds before it started ringing. Or tell Todd to take his food out of the microwave before the bell went off and it would be the perfect temperature.

Todd wondered if he was in a hidden camera show, but a week seemed like a long prank to play.

On the 9th day of Dirk working for Todd, Dirk asked the question Todd had been dreading the whole time.

“How come I’ve never witnessed an attack?”

Todd flinched at the question. “W-what do you mean?”

Dirk sat up straighter on the couch next to Todd. “Well, you said pararibulitis causes you to have painful attacks with hallucinations, right? I’ve been here for 9 days but I’ve never seen you have one. Your mother said they’d gotten so bad you got them daily, that’s why you dropped out of college, right? I’m just wondering, how have I not seen one?” He rambled.

Todd swallowed awkwardly. “I-I don’t know, dude. I guess they happen mostly at night.”

“But then how would they affect you in college?” Dirk asked.

Todd mentally facepalmed. “I, uh, I mean they used to happen more during the days. Now it’s nights.” He tried to explain himself out of this situation.

“I see.” Dirk replied. He seemed genuinely understanding, but Todd feared he suspected something.

“I’m your caretaker, correct?” Dirk then asked.

“Uh… yeah?” Todd replied.

“So, if you have an attack at night, you should wake me. To help you. It’s my job, right?” Dirk said and smiled.

Todd felt terrible. He already hated lying to his family, which is why he avoided them if he could. Now there was this guy living with him just to help him and he started to feel guilty for lying to him too.

“That’s… nice, thanks. But I’m fine.” Todd replied quietly and turned his eyes toward the tv again.

Dirk let the subject go and Todd was grateful.

On day 16, Todd’s guilt was starting to really gnaw at him. Dirk’s strange quirks had grown on Todd. Sure, he still rolled his eyes at 90% of the things coming out of Dirk’s mouth, but it didn’t annoy him anymore. He was starting to like Dirk’s company. Which made it so much worse.

That night, Todd suggested they have a drink together.

A drink turned into 8 for Todd. Sooner than Todd would have liked, he was drunk.

Dirk had had a beer and a half and was giggling like a schoolgirl.

They chatted about whatever popped into their heads as they drank, sitting on the kitchen floor, where Dirk had fallen, tripping over his own feet. Instead of helping him up, Todd simply joined him.

Todd couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this much.

“So, you’re from England, eh?” Todd said in a terrible English accent he would’ve been embarrassed by had he not been tipsy.

Dirk cackled at this. “That was horrendous! And yes.”

“So why did you come to the States?” Todd asked.

Color drained out of Dirk’s face and he seemed to sober up before Todd’s eyes.

“Woah, dude, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. Just tell me to fuck off.” Todd said after Dirk had failed to say anything for a while.

Dirk let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Sorry. I’m not going to tell you to… do that, but I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Sure.” Todd raised up his hands as a sign of surrender. “How ‘bout you say something now.” He added.

Dirk laughed. “Alright… Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” Todd replied and took a sip of his 8th beer.

“Why are you pretending to have pararibulitis?” Dirk asked.

The room went completely quiet. Todd froze mid-sip. Dirk waited paitently.

“That’s… a big accusation.” Todd replied.

“Sorry, I’ve just noticed-“ Dirk began to explain.

“I mean, you’re supposed to be taking care of me, right? What kinda training did you go through that makes you think that’s an okay thing to ask?” Todd snapped.

Dirk looked taken aback. “I’m sorry, Todd, I’m simply trying to understand-“

“Well it’s none of your fucking business!” Todd exclaimed and tried to get off the kitchen floor.

“Todd-“

“Get out of my apartment!” Todd screamed. He heard his own voice and cringed, knowing he was overreacting but unable to stop himself.

Dirk looked hurt. Like a child. He took a deep breath and got up.

“I’m sorry, Todd.” He said.

Todd looked away from him.

He heard Dirk sniffle, followed by receding steps and the front door opening and closing.

Todd was alone again.

The next morning, Todd felt like shit.

And hangover was the least of his worries.

Two days later, his mother called him.

“What happened, honey? I thought you were getting along!” She asked.

“Dirk didn’t tell you?” Todd asked back, surprised, having fully expected Dirk to call his mother and let her in on what he’d found out.

“No, he just said you told him to leave. Why, Todd? Why?” She replied, obviously disappointed but trying to appear symphatetic.

Todd sighed. “I don’t need help, mom.”

“Todd…”

“I know, mom.”

4 days after Todd had kicked Dirk out, he wrote several text messages to Dirk but deleted all of them before hitting send on any.

The next day, Dirk showed up.

Todd answered the doorbell, just out of bed and well confused as to who would be at his door.

From the other side of the door, a familiar Brit greeted him with a careful smile. He was wearing a bright yellow jacket Todd hadn’t seen before and his hair was a mess.

“Dirk?” Todd asked, surprised to see his former… what? Fake caretaker? Roommate? Friend?

“Hello.” Dirk carefully said. “I felt… like you needed to talk.”

“You… you felt like I needed to talk… to you?” Todd repeated.

“Yes.” Dirk simply answered. “Don’t you?”

Todd thought for a moment, then stepped aside to let Dirk in.

“Look, Dirk… I’m sorry. I didn’t… I shouldn’t have…” Todd tried to apologize.

Dirk lifted his hand to stop him. “It’s alright, Todd. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“No, no, that’s the thing… You were right.” Todd said. He felt a wave of anxiety and something else wash over him. Relief? He’d never admitted to lying about his illness. To anyone. In over a year.

“I know.” Dirk replied.

Todd was taken aback. “You- you do?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So… why are you sorry?” Todd asked.

“Because I should’ve waited for you to tell me instead of confronting you like that.” Dirk explained.

Todd let out a light laugh. “I lied to you… and everyone else and you knew… but you’re sorry for calling me out on it?” He asked.

“…Yes?” Dirk replied.

Todd laughed and covered his face with his hands. “I’m an asshole.”

“You’re not an-“

“Yeah, I really am. Such an asshole. And you know who’s not? My mom. And dad. And my little sister. And you. And what do I do? Lie my ass off and make all of your lives harder. My parents had to get a loan to finance their AND my lives. My sister’s so worried about me every fucking day and she’s a teenager for fuck’s sake! She should be out partying or whatever. And you? You’ve been nothing but nice to me and dedicated every day to running my fucking errands for me when I could’ve done it all myself. That is the definition of an asshole.” Todd rambled. He went to sit on the couch, hanging his face down and resting it on his clammy hands.

Dirk didn’t reply for a moment.

Then he sat down next to Todd.

“So, you’re not perfect.” Dirk said.

Todd let out a mocking laugh. “No shit.”

Dirk laughed too. “But you know what you can be?” He asked.

Todd looked up at him. “What?”

Dirk smiled. “Better.”

Todd stared at him for a long moment. “What do you mean?” He finally said.

“You can be better. Do better. Being an arsehole… it’s not like being a werewolf, is it? You have a choice to be better. Stop making excuses for your excuses.” Dirk explained.

Todd thought about it for a moment. The thought of telling his parents he’d been lying to them for over a year? His little sister, who looked up to him? The thought alone made him nauseous. But… he couldn’t deny that Dirk had a point. It’s not like he wanted to be an asshole. It’s not like screwing up everyone else’s lives bought him some kind of weird, perverted joy. He did have a choice. He’d always had a choice. Up until now he’d just made the wrong ones, one after the other.

But maybe… just maybe it was time to make the right one. Even if it was going to hurt like hell.

“You’re right.” Todd said. “Of course you’re right.”

Dirk beamed. “I wish more people saw that.”

Todd laughed. Then he took a deep breath.

“Hey… where are you staying now?” He asked.

Dirk furrowed his brows. “A motel nearby. Why?”

Todd smiled. “Well… I have a guest room and I’m guessing I’m gonna have to start paying my own rent soon, so… You want a roommate? Even if he’s a bit of an asshole?” He asked.

Dirk’s eyes lit up like damn Christmas trees. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Todd assured.

“But you don’t actually need my help?” Dirk questioned.

Todd looked at his new, strange friend and smiled. “Actually… I think I really do.”

thanks for reading! if you have any ideas for fics, feel free to send me prompts! my inbox is always open! x

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orangeccreamsicles · 5 years ago

Text

“Let’s start off with something easy. What’s your name, kid?”

Your name is Dirk Strider, you are nineteen years old, and you are sitting in what you assume is an interrogation room. You have been separated from your brother, much to your annoyance, and the officer in front of you refused to let you see him until you were both done answering their questions.

Not that Dave knew anything. Not that you’d ever tell them anything. The answers they were looking for would only tear you apart, and you’d rather die than let that happen. You’d already killed for it.

“Are you sure I can’t get you a blanket, there’s no one we can call for you?”

You shake your head. You wouldn’t tell them about mom, and they wouldn’t be able to find any attachment to her anyway. Bro was dead, dad was dead, you and Dave were all that mattered. Despite your stranglehold on your feelings, you were tense in your chair, hands digging into your arms. Whatever. It’d help you be more believable, distraught that your caretaker had passed.

“I know you’re upset, but I really need to ask you a couple questions before you can see your little brother, okay? He’s been asking about you too, don’t worry. I just need you to sign this paper.”

He passes you a sheet and a pen. You stare down at it, blankly, as HAL analyzes it. Under normal circumstances, you shouldn’t sign it, but you want to get out of here quickly, and you’re not suspicious. You did everything right. You sign the paper.

The officer nods approvingly and moves it aside once you’re done, replacing it with a cup of water which you take small sips of. He adjusts himself in his chair, taking out a pen and notepad, then looks at you sympathetically. You hate the look on his face.

“Can you tell me what happened tonight?”

You nod.

“Derek came home later than usual, and when he did get home he was drunk. Dave and I were in the kitchen, I sent Dave to bed. Derek looked upset. I was worried about him.”

Lies, a practiced lie you’d been rehearsing for years, drilled into yourself and Dave by everyone in the house concerned with keeping anyone from finding out what happened behind doors.

“He told me to have a drink with him. Just one. I figured it was okay since he was already home and didn’t have to drive. He got me to go upstairs with him after, said he wanted to talk to me without Dave around. He’s only little.”

A strain in your voice, your eyes get far away, you slouch a little. Anything to sell a story, buy you some sympathy as a sad kid living alone with your brothers, shocked that you could lose your guardian so quickly. You were wearing a long sleeve shirt, and pants. If he’d looked under your clothes he’d see the injuries which would prompt more questions, which would lead to what had really happened coming out, and you’d never see your brother again.

“So he took me up, and we sat on the edge. It wasn’t dangerous, we played up there all the time, I knew he wouldn’t fall. But then-”

You cut yourself off.

“He. He started talking nonsense. I don’t know what he was talking about, shouting off about how I’m old enough to take care of Dave now, and what do we need him for? He stood up, I didn’t know what he was gonna’ do. I don’t know if he meant to jump or if he fell or-”

Again, you cut yourself off, shaking a little. The officer pats your knee, and it’s everything you can do to not lash out at him for touching you. Instead, you close your eyes, duck your head for a moment. When you open them, HAL is talking to you. Talking you through your answers, telling you how Dave is doing. They’re done with him, he says. He took a blanket, and the car is waiting outside whenever you can get out of here.

“What happened after he fell?”

Back to reality.

“I kind of stared at him for a second. I’ve never seen a real body like that, he didn’t even look like a person anymore. I thought I was gonna’ puke, but it all kind of went blank after that. I went downstairs, called the police, went and sat with Dave in his room ‘til the cops showed up.”

“And had Derek ever exhibited this kind of behavior before?”

“Sure, but not this bad. He drank a lot, did some dangerous stuff, got all weird emotionally. But I never thought he’d just. Walk off the roof like that. I thought he’d always be there for us.”

They had split you up to get your stories individually, but they let you keep your glasses. HAL had talked Dave through exactly what to say, so there wouldn’t be any discrepancies. You were selling a story of a lonely man left to take care of his two kid brothers, who finally saw his escape after years of being tied down.

What really happened is that you had pushed him. He’d come home mad, sure, but he wasn’t yelling. The dude was a freak, never spoke. You suggested a drink, drugged his enough to throw him far enough off his game that when you challenged him to a spar you could push him off the roof.

The effect of the whole night would only fall upon you hours later, after you left the station and had already been driving for a while, with Dave asleep in the passenger side of the truck, and you settling down to sob in the bed of it, still hours off from New York on the road where you would live with your sisters until you were stable enough to come home.

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microsoftedgy69 · 6 years ago

Text

November 11, 2428

It’s still bad.

You’re not surprised; things took a sharp turn for the better in the past few days, but it is still November 11. Five years P.D., post Dirk.

When you moved to your boat, permanently, you locked yourself out of accessing Corpsefridge’s coordinates on your transportalizer, to keep yourself from going back there for any reason. You’re all about sabotaging yourself into good things, now. You’re trying, at least.

You programmed it to let you back over today, because that’s different.

Today’s different.

Still bad.

Your lightweight body feels heavy as you drag it onto the pad. You don’t want to go, but you know that you’ll hate yourself if you let this anniversary pass without paying him a visit. It’s the least you can do, you think, and send yourself off.

You are immediately surrounded by water.

The apartment, as you had anticipated, has completely flooded in the few months that you weren’t here. It is not technically a problem--you are waterproof from head to toe, and you spend a lot of time underwater. As your feet leave the transportalizing pad and you float weightlessly towards the ceiling, you find yourself thinking that it is kind of nice, actually.

The window has burst from the water pressure, and the door to the bedroom is missing entirely. Many of the little things--skateboards, hats, computers, his pillow--aren’t here anymore, having been carried off by the tide while you weren’t here. Furniture is suspended seemingly in mid air, and the silence of the place is all encompassing. The apartment is almost unrecognizable now, and you find solace in that.

In the water, you turn, and push your feet against the ceiling to dive down. It takes you a bit of effort, but you wrench the transportalizer free from the apartment floor. With it in your hands, you swim out of the broken window, and go up.

You surface to the murmur of waves and the screams of seagulls. The roof of the apartment is still dry, so they’re still here. The enormous birdhouse you built them is still standing strong, albeit covered in shit. You spare it a crooked smile as you climb ashore.

For today, you're wearing black, and your clothes are clinging to your body with ocean water while you deploy the transportalizer. The sun is shining, though, and you'll be dry in no time. You pay it no mind when you message your brothers to let them know that it's safe to come over now.

Sawtooth and Squarewave are advanced enough to read your moods and quiet down when you're sad, but not to feel sad themselves. They arrive in all black and silence, and you're thankful for it.

It's Brobot you're worried about. He is still getting used to emotions, still trying to name them all even, and you have no idea how he’s going to take this. But he has his own free will now, and he wanted to come, and you are in no position to say no to him. You let him come over last, and then it’s the four of you again, up on that high-rise, four robots without their maker, four kids unbothered by the ocean breeze.

The four of you stand at the ledge, and you look out into the sea, neverending until it cuts into the horizon. If you stared at it long enough, you could almost think you’re at home on your boat. But the seagulls scream, and pull you right back.

You put your arm around Brobot’s shoulders. He can’t feel it, not physically, but he sees what you’re doing and you trust he knows how to interpret the gesture by now. Sawtooth’s big hand is on Squarewave’s hat, and you take Squarewave’s little metal hand in yours. You can’t cry, in this body, because you have no fluids at all, but you think you probably would if you could, right now. You imagine that it would be quiet, maybe dignified even, and you think that would be nice. Not too long ago, you had full sobbing fits when you thought about this, so it is progress.

“We’re not gonna be able to come here next year,” you tell the sea. “Shit’s sinking and all. So this is it, buddy.” You pause, and try to let the realization of this wash over you once more. You did all you could to help Roxy, Jane, and Jake out of this timeline, and the only one left now is the dead body of a boy you had to throw out the window and call it a sea burial four years and nine months ago. You squeeze Squarewave’s hand--he can’t feel it, but you can--and say, “Bye, Dirk.”

The sea doesn’t answer you.

You stay a bit longer, like this. You make sure to hang out with Brobot here, make sure to offer to talk, make sure it’s not too much for him. You want him to know he’s not alone with any of this, before you send him back home.

Once all three of them are back on the yacht, you sit down on the roof and take your shoes off. It’s pointless in a way, because they’re already soaked, but you want to feel the ocean water between your toes when you let your legs hang off the edge of the roof.

“So,” you say, and in stark contrast to all those times you spent imagining this exact moment, you smile. “Last time, huh.”

You snort, and look down into the water. It’s still fairly clear here. Faintly, you see the outlines of a city long forgotten in the depths.

“I don’t know how true that really is. Sometimes, when I talk to myself, I still imagine I’m talking to you. I guess they’re the same thing, right?” You start kicking your legs, and watch the water slosh around them. The shark skin makes you very hydrodynamic. This feels smooth, and good, and a little like home. Your fingers tighten on the ledge, but only for a second.

“Life’s good on the yacht,” you say. “And I pulled Brobot out of Hellmurder, and gave him emotions, because you and I are the same and history repeats itself. I also got a bunch of plants, and a kitten, and an aquarium. And a family.” You pause to think of them, and smile. “I’m making new memories, better ones. October and November are still hard, but I think I’ll be better next year. I have a safety net that’s made of people, the way you had. The way I had, before things went to shit.”

Your abdomen makes a mechanical noise. You tilt your head back and look at the sky. It’s blue, cloudless, and unforgiving as always.

“I’m dating Jake now,” you say, and you laugh. “Not ours. That one is never going to trust me again. No, I’m with a different version, one that treats me like a person. It’s nice. I’ll try not to screw it up.”

For a minute, you stay like this, looking up into the sky, thinking about your boyfriend. He said you’d go get burritos later, and he makes you feel like a real person. When you told him about Dirk, he said that what happened to you was horrific, and if you hadn’t been shades at the time, you would have wept like a baby. Because he said what happened to you, not what you did, and it was a perspective that you had been entertaining, but felt like you didn’t deserve.

But Jake thinks you deserve good things. And your new, found family thinks you deserve good things.

You sigh, and tilt your head back down.

“Neither of us wanted things to go like this,” you say, softly, to the gentle waves. “You know that. I hope that, somewhere, you knew that. Because I do. You weren’t a bad person, and neither am I, I think. It just sucks it turned out this way and--and those are Front Bottoms lyrics, actually.” When you snort, it comes out strained and wonky, the autotune on your voice jumping a little. “I’m still sorry. It’s awful--what happened to us. It shouldn’t have happened and it’s all fucked up and I’m sorry about it all, even if it wasn’t--wasn’t my fault.”

The waves, too, don’t answer you.

But you nod to yourself.

“It’s still shit. You had a whole life ahead of you and I feel bad sometimes for living it. You know that. I tell you all the time. But there��s nothing we can do about it, and I’m done punishing myself. I want to be done.”

Again, you nod, then you pull your feet out of the water and stand. You look around, to the vastness of the ocean expanding to either side, to the birdhouse and the seagulls. You said goodbye to this place months ago, and you find that it doesn’t hurt, anymore. You don’t live here, and maybe you never fully did.

You slide your hand into your damp pants pocket, and pull out a pair of tacky triangular shades. Looking down at them, you turn them in your fingers, and let the edges dig into your thumb, before you flick them into the water.

“We buried you without a pair of those,” you tell him, and step onto the transportalizer. “Thought I’d rectify that. They’ll find you.”

You think, to yourself, that that was a weird thing to say. Then you look out into the ocean of your home timeline, November 11, 2428, in what used to be Houston, for the last time, and smile.

“Goodbye, DS,” you say. “Until we meet again.”

You send yourself off, to November 11, 2018, the Atlantic Ocean, and despite the wet clothes weighing you down, you feel a thousand times lighter.

#posted ooc #action post #death mention #no other big warnings #general grief atmosphere #ends on a positive note though!! its uphill for this lil guy now #as always sorry mobile users

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sachigram · 6 years ago

Text

Redolence ch. 1

((click here to read on ao3))

Dirk remembers a time he loved his apartment. It's spacious for the price, and it isn't run down, which is exactly what Dirk needs in a place. He has various projects strewn all over his space, but he's usually pretty good about navigating through it. Most importantly, it's quiet. Or it used to be.

People are always coming and going through the building, but Dirk has managed to learn who most of his neighbors are. Like him, they keep to themselves, but Dirk receives plenty of friendly nods in the elevator and in the hallways. It wasn't a surprise when his old neighbor across the hall moved out, but Dirk was sad to see her go. She used to bake extra cookies and other treats to give him. He didn't have an interest in meeting the new person who moved in a couple of months ago, but now he wishes he'd introduced himself.

His new neighbor is a pain in the ass.

Dirk groans and pauses his programming as the smoke alarm next door starts blaring again. It's the third time just this week, and Dirk thinks his neighbor has no idea how to cook and is probably a hazard to themselves. Huffing, he slides away from his workbench and walks across the hallway, knocking on the door.

“Yo, has anyone ever told you the smoke alarm isn't a timer? You're supposed to take the food out of the oven before it burns,” Dirk says crossly, folding his arms and wondering if his mysterious neighbor will open the door and greet him.

“Apologies!” The voice is frazzled and Dirk can hear movements inside. “I'm a horrid cook! It'll be off in just a tick, mate! If I could just—ah! There we are!”

The beeping stops. Dirk rolls his eyes and goes back into his apartment, closing the door behind him. It's fairly late and his eyes hurt from staring at a damn screen for hours on end. He decides to make a quick snack and call it a night.

The first thing Dirk notices when he wakes up is muffled shouting, followed by banging and crashing. He sits up in his dark room, running a hand through his destroyed hair. He was sleeping hard, and he's pissed off that something woke him up. He listens for a moment and flinches as the shouting grows louder, and it sounds a bit like someone is being thrown bodily against a wall. He swings his legs off the bed and hurriedly pulls on some sweatpants, opening his door into the hallway in time to see a pissed off behemoth of a man pass him and storm towards the elevator, cursing vehemently at all the heads of concerned tenants peeking out of their apartments, woken by the commotion. Dirk watches him go for a moment and decides to check on his neighbor, whose door is wide open.

He knocks on the open door before walking in, observing a small framed man smoking by the open window, his body battered and bloody. Dirk can't see his face, but he's willing to bet it isn't a pretty sight.

“Shit dude, you okay?” Dirk asks.

“Spiffy,” the man says, flicking some ashes right onto the floor.

“Do you want me to call someone? The police maybe?” Dirk frowns when the guy laughs at him.

“No, I don't think that's necessary. My ex already left. He won't be back.” The guy finally turns to face Dirk, and Dirk feels the world fall out from under his feet. “Sorry for disturbing you again. I'm sure I gave you quite the fright—ah.” He stops talking and squints at Dirk, his green eyes just as beautiful as Dirk remembers.

“Jake?” Dirk asks, his mouth dropping open. Jake gapes at him and finally gives him a shaky grin, some blood dribbling from his split lip when he does.

“Small world, eh?” Jake asks bitterly, tossing the still lit cigarette onto the floor. “I've often wondered when I'd see any of our old gang again, but I was hoping for a much sunnier meeting.”

Dirk whirls around towards the elevator the muscular prick stomped into, his fists curled. He starts to go towards it when a hand grabs his bare shoulder, stopping him.

“There's no need, Dirk. He's gone. This was the only way for this to go,” Jake says softly. Dirk turns to him, his heart breaking when he sees just how horrible Jake truly looks, even beyond his injuries. He's always been smaller, but he looks emaciated now, and like he hasn't had a decent night's sleep in years.

“What... Jake, what the fuck?” Dirk finally manages.

“It's late,” Jake says. “You were sleeping, I'm sure. I'm fine now.”

“Like fuck I'm going back over there right now,” Dirk says, unwilling even to let Jake move away from him. He hasn't seen Jake in years, hasn't even heard his name since the end of high school, the end of all things good in Dirk's life. Jake disappeared days before graduation, never to be seen or heard from again.

“Dirk,” Jake murmurs, shaking his head. “Really, this isn't the time for all of this...”

“Sure, fine, whatever. No time, got it. Come on.” Dirk grabs Jake's hand, pulling him out into the hall, closing Jake's door behind him. He leads Jake inside his own place, dragging him to the bathroom where he wets a rag and hands it to Jake, watching him concernedly.

“You're ridiculous,” Jake mumbles, wincing as he cleans the gashes on his face.

“Makes two of us then, huh?” Dirk narrows his eyes, unable to help it, his brain full of so many questions it wants to burst. “I'd ask how you've been, but I'm guessing it's been shitty based on how you look.”

“You think I look shitty?” Jake frowns and pauses his ministrations, looking up at Dirk. “Well. I suppose things have been better. Not for a long while now, but at one point.” He sighs and stares down at the floor.

“You're staying here tonight,” Dirk says with finality. “If that douche goes back over there to kill you, I'd like to be able to know I at least made an effort to help. You can go later.” Dirk's concern is being replaced with the bitter anger he's had since Jake left without explanation all those years ago.

“It'd have been better if he killed me,” Jake says simply, grinning up at Dirk like it's a joke between them. “I admit I wanted him to. A part of me. That's why I set things up as I did.”

“You're drunk,” Dirk says, smelling the alcohol on Jake's breath. “You used to be such a stickler for health and now you're drinking and smoking and apparently hooking up with real winners who use you like a punching bag. I'm sure Jade would be proud.”

Dirk hates himself for it as soon as it's out of his mouth, but when Jake flinches as if he's been hit again, Dirk feels his anger die entirely, dig its own grave, and release swan songs of apologies. It was a low blow, especially to say to someone who looks like Jake does now.

“Gramma died at the right time then, don't you think?” Jake asks in a small voice, tears in his eyes, and Dirk doesn't think, can't think, only wants to help. He steps forward, pulling Jake to him, listening to the small gasp Jake gives before his arms wrap around Dirk in turn. Jake smells like he always has, like everything Dirk loves in the world and can't have, and Jake's nose is freezing as it presses into Dirk's neck.

“I'm so sorry,” Jake sobs, his voice muffled, and Dirk shushes him, not wanting to go into any of this now. He leads Jake to his bed and helps him get in, covering him up and hovering over him awkwardly, not knowing what to do here. Jake wraps around a pillow and cries into it, and Dirk wants to crawl in behind him, to hold him like he used to, but Jake left. Jake hurt him, hurt Roxy, hurt Jane. Dirk shuts the light out and goes to his couch, flopping onto it, wondering if he'll get any sleep at all.

The next thing Dirk notices is daylight, as well as some light shuffling coming from behind him. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and sits up to see Jake wearing one of his shirts, holding a rag and scrubbing at the counter top. He freezes as soon as he notices Dirk's eyes on him, and he smiles sheepishly. In the light of day, he somehow looks even worse.

“I just—well. I thought it'd be awfully rude of me to leave before you woke up and...tidying up a bit seemed like a nice way to thank you for your help.” Jake rubs at his neck, and Dirk wants to tell him to stop smiling because it's stretching out his busted lip, but Dirk doesn't say anything.

Instantly, Jake gets noticeably restless.

“I woke you up, didn't I? I woke you up last night, too. I'm sorry. I don't sleep much these days and... I should've just slipped out without disturbing you.” He looks down at the shirt he's wearing. “Mine was ruined so I threw it in the bin. I'll...give yours back, I promise. Though you'd probably like me to wash it first, heh.”

It dwarfs Jake almost comically, though it's really not funny at all when Dirk remembers Jake wasn't always so tiny. Short and thin, yes, but now he just looks gaunt and fragile, barely fits into the frame Dirk remembers.

“Keep it,” Dirk finds himself saying. He doesn't mean it to sound as short as it does, but Jake's face falls nonetheless. He nods grimly and lets go of the rag he's been holding onto.

“Right then. I'll... I'll do just that.” He goes to the door and hurriedly wrenches it open, and doesn't even turn around as he adds a quick “you know where to find me.”

Dirk finds himself alone, and he sighs, falling back onto the couch cushions before he decides it's for the birds and gets up to shuffle towards his bed instead. He tries to ignore the fact that his sheets smell like Jake, but he fails miserably, and when he sleeps at last he dreams of the way things used to be, when everything was fine and Jake didn't look like he's seen death around every corner he's come across.

It takes Dirk a little while to contact Jane and Roxy about Jake. They'd all been inseparable throughout school, often frequenting each other's houses. They'd been devastated when Jade died and even more so when Jake disappeared, and it was unspoken between them all not to mention anything about the English family, since it was still an open wound.

Dirk is on speakerphone with Roxy, Jane in the background on Roxy's end when he finally says something.

“Jake is my neighbor,” he blurts, tactful as ever. There's a pause on the other end.

“Jakey?” Roxy's voice is a whisper.

“Yeah.”

“The neighbor who always keeps you up?” Jane's voice is closer to the phone now. “That does sound like Jake.”

“He doesn't seem like Jake anymore,” Dirk says. “He got the shit beat out of him by some guy he was—seeing. He's like a ghost now.”

“When was this?” Roxy's back now, her voice shaking.

“Bout a week ago,” Dirk replies.

“A week?! Dirk, god! Is he still there? Have you seen him since?”

“No. I don't know what the fuck to say to him. I'm sure he feels the same way about me.”

Jane and Roxy make plans to come over soon, as they have a few “choice words for Jake English” according to Jane, and Dirk regrets mentioning Jake's presence in the apartment building, but some nights it's all he can think about, the fact that Jake is across the hallway, alone and fragile, probably smoking and barely eating or sleeping.

Dirk is up late working on some coding one night when he hears raised voices across the hallway again, and his blood runs cold. Without thinking he grabs a shitty gimmick samurai sword Dave sent him and crosses the hall to Jake's door, barging in without knocking.

The burly guy is there again, and he glares daggers at Dirk, and Jake is sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, looking tired, but otherwise alright. He smiles pleasantly at Dirk.

“Hello there. Sorry for another disruption. Caliborn was just leaving,” he says, gesturing to the muscly dude like he's nothing more than a mosquito.

The guy, Caliborn snarls down at Dirk before heading towards the door.

“Have fun with him. He's a fucking slut,” he spits before slamming the door loudly enough that it echoes around them.

“In his defense,” Jake says softly, “I did cheat on him. It wasn't really for anything other than to get rid of him.”

“Jake,” Dirk says, his eyes closing as his brows furrow in frustration. He just...wants to pick Jake up and shake him. Shake him hard until Jake is who he used to be.

“But in my defense, I'd already tried breaking up with him. He didn't take it well.”

Jake hops off the counter and moves to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. He looks at Dirk and snorts.

“You brought a sword?”

“There...wasn't really time for rationality,” Dirk defends. Jake laughs, and it sounds the same as it used to.

“I appreciate the hustle. I'm fine. He came for his things and he won't be back.”

“Maybe change the locks?” Dirk offers.

“Maybe,” Jake says flippantly.

Dirk has so many questions. He can't think of what to ask first, or how.

“He didn't hurt you?” he asks at last.

“Not this time,” Jake says.

“You—since when do you...”

“Like men?” Jake hazards. “Quite a while, I reckon. Not like my taste accounts for much.” He fishes out another cigarette and starts to move towards his window. Dirk catches sight of an ashtray filled to the brim with cigarette butts, and knows his assumption about Jake chain-smoking was pretty spot-on.

“Jake,” Dirk begins again, trying to choose his words carefully despite his anger. Jake looks like he's a few harsh words from breaking and Dirk's never truly wanted to hurt him, even if Jake has hurt Dirk more than he'll ever know. “What's going on? Where'd you go?”

“It's a rather long story, “ Jake says, not bothering to look away from the window. The bruises on his face have healed to an ugly, yellowish color, but his eyes are still all wrong in a way that has nothing to do with physical injuries.

“Don't you owe me that much?” Dirk asks bitterly before he can stop himself. Jake smiles.

“I suppose I do. I owe you quite a few things. Seems like I'll be a disappointment to you yet again, because I don't feel up to hashing all of this yet.” Jake finally looks over at Dirk again.

“You'll lose your security deposit, smoking in here,” Dirk blurts.

“Oh, fuck the deposit,” Jake huffs. Dirk grins in spite of himself.

They encounter each other more often afterwards, though Dirk isn't hopeful enough to think Jake plans these things. A few times Dirk has come back home to pass Jake in the hallway, and they exchange pleasantries. The smoke alarm blares less often, and Dirk still knows Jake well enough to figure Jake just unhooked the damn thing rather than learn to cook, though it's possible Jake was also setting it off so frequently by smoking inside.

After a week of not seeing so much as a glance of Jake, Dirk starts to grow a little concerned, but before he can plan any accidental meetings, Jane and Roxy are at his doorstep, Tupperware containers of food in hand.

“Which one does he live in?” Jane asks, her jaw set.

“Uh,” Dirk says.

“Just tell us, or we'll start knockin',” Roxy warns, and Dirk just points across the hall. The girls both march over and start bombarding the door with knocks until Jake answers, his eyes wide and a...cooking pot in his hands?

“Oh,” he says softly. “I thought... Erm. I wasn't expecting anything pleasant, based on those knocks. Apologies.”

“You'd better do a lot more than apologize,” Jane says angrily, but then Jake opens the door entirely and gives them all a gander at his small, sickly frame. The circles under his eyes are practically purple and his eyes are duller than last time Dirk saw him, but still Jake smiles and motions inside. Roxy sobs and tackles him, almost knocking him down. Jake just holds her, and Dirk is pretty sure he's crying too.

Jake was always a crybaby.

Jane starts heating up the food in Jake's microwave, which is filthy. It's clear Jake microwaves most of his meals, which he admits range from Hot Pockets to cans of soup, yet he still manages to burn half of what he makes.

Once they're seated for dinner, the girls start bombarding Jake with questions. He's only picking at the food, not looking at any of them.

“I just...” He swallows and then shakes his head. “I wanted to disappear. I never imagined you'd all find me.”

“I thought you were dead,” Jane spits, and Jake winces. “I told myself that was the only way you'd go all these years without so much an email. Yet here you are, alive and—not well. But still, you're alive.”

“I am,” Jake admits in a soft voice, and Dirk's heart clenches, hearing the words Jake doesn't say, which sound a lot like 'despite my best efforts'.

“Gramma died,” Jake says. “We were all graduating and I just... I didn't have a school to go to afterwards. All of you did. I thought, best case scenario, I'd end up living with one of you and being a freeloader. I wasn't about to ruin any of your lives.”

“Jade left you money,” Jane says, her blue eyes like ice. “I know she did.”

“She did,” Jake agrees. “Enough to leave, but not much else. Gramma was a genius, you know. She would've been well off if not for me. She inherited me through my mom's will and had to cut her studies short. She didn't have much money.”

“My brother,” Dirk says, staring Jake down across the table. “He has more money than he knows what to do with. We would've—“

“Yes, I'm aware,” Jake snaps. “I didn't want your bloody charity, especially when I knew you'd never give it to me and leave, Dirk. You would've stayed with me and thrown your future away. Or worse, brought me with you, and I'd just bring you down like I did Gramma.”

“Where is this coming from?” Roxy asks, her eyes still wet. She hasn't said a word since they sat down. “Jade didn't... She didn't think that. None of us did. None of us knew you did!”

“Yes, well, it's safe to say we all didn't know each other as well as we thought,” Jake says acidly, finally looking up. He stands abruptly, rattling the dishes still piled with food he's barely touched. “I need a moment.”

He moves across the room to the balcony door and exits without even putting on a coat. Dirk can see him lighting a cigarette through the window, and he sighs softly.

“What's wrong with him?” Roxy asks, and Dirk knows she doesn't mean it cruelly. Her eyes are wide with concern, and she's looking expectantly at Dirk.

“How am I supposed to know?” he asks defensively.

“Oh, please,” Jane scoffs. “You know Jake better than anyone.”

“Maybe I did before,” Dirk says, “but I don't know him anymore. I don't know what to say or do. I'm just as lost as you guys here.”

“At least go make sure he's okay,” Roxy says, ignoring the baleful look Jane shoots her. “He's more used to you than us and...he shouldn't be alone. At least take him a damn coat.”

Sighing again, Dirk travels to the balcony, grabbing his own coat on the way. Once outside he drapes it over Jake's shoulders, and Jake flinches as it snaps him out of whatever self-deprecating thoughts he was festering in.

“They mean well,” Dirk says, crossing his arms and thanking his past self for putting on his most comfortable and warm sweater today. It's freezing outside, and Dirk's breath is fogging in the air almost as much as Jake's cigarette smoke.

“Don't tell me what they mean,” Jake mumbles. “I know them, too. I'm not just meeting them.”

“Look, okay, whatever this is, they have the right to be mad. They—“

“I never asked for them to show up!” Jake snaps, whirling on Dirk. The fire is back in his eyes, and he looks more beautiful and pissed than Dirk's ever seen him. “I left and I bungled up all our relationships, I get it, but damn it, I never asked for any of you to come here! I never asked for forgiveness! I never crawled up to any of you, on my hands and knees, begging you to dig into your hearts and forgive my faults and remind me of all I ever did wrong!”

Dirk admits Jake was definitely ambushed tonight, and as angry as he is at Jake, it really wasn't fair to do this to him.

“I didn't plan it,” he says. “They just showed up. I...told them you were next door because, well...they thought you were dead, Jake. We all did, for a while. They needed the closure, at least. And even if they're mad, they love you. They're trying to understand. And...that goes double for me.”

The implications hang in the air between them. Jake rolls his eyes, ignoring them.

Like always.

“Did you know Gramma kept a journal?” Jake asks, changing the subject.

“Most scientists do.”

“Not a scientific journal. A personal one. I found it when she died and I was going through her things.” Jake flicks some ashes away. “I was having a hard time of things, you know. Missing her. Wondering what the hell I was going to do next. She wrote about me.”

“She loved you,” Dirk says, unsure of where this is going.

“She thought I was worthless,” Jake says. “She wrote about my rubbish grades, my lack of college acceptance letters, her concerns that I was relying far too much on you to figure out my life for me.”

Dirk doesn't know what to say. He opens his mouth, but no words come out.

“And I knew all those things,” Jake continues. His lips tremble, not just from the cold. “I knew she had to have those types of concerns. But...then she got sick. And her entries were less and less, few and far between when she wrote about regrets. Regrets her research and work got cut short. Regrets she inherited me and I took up all her time.”

“Jake...”

“And I was doing the same thing to you. You would've let me, Dirk. Wherever you went, you would've carried me with you. Just like she was fucking worried about.”

“So you just left. Without a word.”

“There was nothing to say.”

Dirk glares at him, wanting so badly to scream at Jake until he hears him, listens whether he wants to or not, and also to punch him.

“And still, there's nothing to say,” Jake murmurs, looking down at the city below. “You've all been fine without me.”

“Like fuck, Jake,” Dirk hisses. “We mourned you. We—I—missed you so fuckin' much. And then I finally see you again to find out you've just given up on your life? You let dudes push you around and use you and you look like shit, like you died along with Jade.”

“Maybe I should have.” Jake laughs humorlessly.

Dirk grabs him by the shoulders and takes note of the way Jake flinches again, like he hasn't known a kind touch in years. Dirk thinks of the bodies who have had Jake in the way he never has, who have used Jake and thrown him over things, into things, just to have their way with him before leaving him alone. Dirk thinks of Jade's words in Jake's mind, making him think he never deserved more than that.

Dirk thinks of how even now, he loves Jake more than he's ever loved anything, and how he would rip himself into pieces to make Jake whole again.

“Things can change. You aren't dead. You...must be doing something right, okay? You live in this building, which isn't cheap. So you at least have a job, right?”

Jake snorts. “I work in a gas station. Caliborn made good money, which is why I moved here with him. Funny how he's the one who left, but I think he's hoping I'll get evicted.”

“So...all your money is going to rent.”

“Basically. At least I get discounts on cigarettes, so there's a silver lining.”

Dirk moves his hands from Jake's shoulders and pulls him into a hug instead. Jake doesn't hug back, but he leans bodily against Dirk, which is almost as good.

“Hot pockets aren't a healthy dinner, even if they're cheap. So come eat what Jane cooked before I force feed you,” Dirk mumbles into Jake's wild hair.

“Kinky,” Jake comments, but he follows when Dirk turns to go back inside.

The rest of the meal is more civil, and Jake noticeably relaxes when no one asks him personal questions anymore. Jake used to be pretty self-involved, or at least wanted them all to think he was somewhat of a confident person. None of them are under that assumption anymore, and Dirk has been kicking himself for not noticing sooner how little Jake seems to think of his own life.

Roxy regales them with stories about work. She's an editor, which always sounded boring to Dirk, but nothing involving Roxy is ever boring. After a few of her stories and a few glasses of wine, Jane warms up enough to speak to Jake without glaring at him. She's an accountant, and one day she still plans to open up her own bakery.

“Dad was right about the accounting degree though,” she says breezily. “I can just handle my own books later on.”

“She handles mine when I do business on my own,” Dirk informs Jake. All of them have had a bit too much to drink, but Dirk is closer to being wasted than he remembers being in a long time. He keeps leaning against Jake, speaking into his ear, inhaling his scent when he can.

“I saw your various gadgets strewn around your place. I assumed you made robots, like you always wanted,” Jake says.

“You assumed right, Jake fuckin' English,” Dirk slurs, and Roxy laughs while Jane takes Dirk's wine glass from him. “Lots of machines and lots of computer programs.”

“Like you always wanted.” Jake smiles. “I'm so happy your life is what you dreamed. All of you. You're all so accomplished.”

Dirk wants to say his life isn't what he wanted, because Jake looks so sad and thin and breakable, and the life Dirk wanted involved Jake being there with him for everything, happy and healthy. Jane interrupts before he can voice this.

“I really hate to be a party pooper, but we do have work in the morning, Rox,” she says, nudging Roxy, who is smiling sadly at Dirk across the table.

“Yeah. Yeah, we didn't mean to stay so long. It's just been so good to see you, Jakey,” Roxy says.

They all stand, and they make plans to have dinner soon. Jane is speaking softly with Jake when Roxy makes her way over to Dirk.

“Oh, Di-Stri. Look at you. You're so drunk,” she says fondly.

“I don't usually drink. Damn. How much did I have?”

“Not much at all, you lightweight.” She lets him lean on her, which is nice because then his brain doesn't have to focus on standing up straight.

“He looks better after tonight,” Dirk says, motioning to Jake. “I'm glad we did this. I mean, you guys scared the fuck out of him, but I think this was...good.”

“I'm worried about you,” Roxy says softly, and Dirk looks down at her confusedly because why worry about him when Jake is over there, clearly a walking disaster?

“When Jakey left...you took it hardest. Which was understandable, Dirk but...if he leaves again, I don't want you to be broken like you were then. Promise me you'll keep on your toes. When you're sober, that is,” she amends when he starts to wobble.

“I'm fine, Roxy. I learned my lesson back then.”

“Did you? Because the way you look at him says you still love him.”

Dirk stills because he never mentioned to anyone how he felt about Jake, but he should've known Roxy and Jane knew. They always understood him without him having to say much. Roxy hugs him, standing on her toes to better reach him. She kisses his cheek.

“Take care of yourself,” she says to him before she goes to say goodbye to Jake.

When they leave, Dirk realizes he's alone with Jake in Jake's apartment, and Dirk is drunk off his ass. He should go home. Should go home and sleep and not have any regrets in the morning.

“Jesus, Jane left a hurricane of food in my kitchen,” Jake grumbles, bustling around to put things up. “She has plans to fatten me up, which just sounds devious to me.”

“I don't have the life I want,” Dirk blurts, startling Jake into turning to face him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Before, when you said you were happy for us for living how we want? I don't. I don't live how I want. I don't have what I want,” Dirk says, moving closer to Jake as he speaks. Jake smiles confusedly.

“Well, I've never known you to not just take what you want.” Jake chuckles and starts to clean again. “You'll figure it out. You're a genius after all.”

“I wanted you,” Dirk says, and everything seems to get really quiet afterwards, like the aftermath of a loud explosion. Dirk can hear his own blood rushing in his ears.

“Dirk,” Jake sighs, his eyes closed. “You're drunk.”

“I wanted you. I— Fuck, Jake! I loved you so fuckin' much. And I thought you just...were straight or whatever since you spouted that 'no homo' bullshit like it was never gonna go out of style but now I regret not tellin' you sooner.” Dirk sways on his feet. “You have these jerks who treat you like shit and I...I could show you...”

“Dirk, please,” Jake says. “I can't hear this.”

“You never want to hear it. You can say now that you don't want me, and I'll go. Just give me an answer, Jake, cause this is torture.” Somehow he's ended up in front of Jake, who has to hold him up, lest he faceplant.

“I don't want to torture you...” Jake whispers, his eyes so fucking sad. Dirk dips down and presses his lips to Jake's, just a brush, and Jake's breath sighs out, his hands clenching in Dirk's shirt. It's like a dam breaking between them, and then Dirk's mouth is back on Jake's, heavy and hungry, kissing deep and probing because Jake lets him, opens for him and gives where Dirk pushes. Dirk's hands thread through Jake's hair, and he pushes until Jake's back is against the refrigerator, and then Dirk kisses him harder.

“Dirk...” Jake whines into their kiss. He gasps at Dirk's hands trail down to his ass, where they knead and squeeze roughly. “Dirk...!”

“I love you,” Dirk whispers between them, pulling back to look into Jake's eyes. “I can't stand not sayin' it anymore. I'd give you anything, Jake...”

Jake shakes his head, his eyes full of tears. “No... Dirk you can't fix this, okay? I can't let you try. I won't let you give up anything for me. I'm not worth it! This is exactly what I wanted to avoid.”

“Wait...” Dirk looks down at him. “You knew...? You knew I loved you?”

“Of course I did. I'm not an idiot.” Jake's words are defensive, but he's still crying, and he looks so guilty, Dirk feels his anger rising.

“And you just left? This whole time, you knew? Do you know what you did to me when you left?”

“I wasn't going to stay and watch you find out you're too good for me,” Jake says, and Dirk's arms drop to his sides limply.

“You broke my heart. And I at least thought...you didn't know you were doin' it,” Dirk slurs. “You just didn't care?”

“Of course I cared! You—you're a genius, Dirk! Was I supposed to let you settle for me? Bring you down like I bring down everything? I couldn't do that to you!”

“Right so you ruined your life for me? That makes me feel so much better.”

Jake's lips are still red and wet from Dirk's attentions, and even now, Dirk thinks Jake is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

“You're drunk,” Jake says again. “You don't mean any of this.”

“Would you stop decidin' what I do and don't mean?! Fuck you, okay, you don't seem to know one thing about me if you think this is what I wanted. This is all fucked and you're the one who did it.”

“Dirk...”

“No, whatever, I'm drunk, so I'll go. Leave you alone, like you want.” He stumbles blindly from the apartment, slamming the door behind him in his fury.

Jake doesn't follow him.

#dirkjake #dirk strider #jake english #homestuck fanfiction

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emmelfish · 6 years ago

Text

‘After woohoo, I like to celebrate with a long hike to ponder the fact that my wife being pregnant means it’ll be a while before we can have more babies.’

Pfft, keep dreaming John. Like that want about playing for tips, nice try – you have zero creativity points. Stick to wanting to praise Tabby, becoming besties with Lucy, and befriending Darren. Also if it’s so hot maybe you should take off your outerwear when you get inside?

FACK

John: What’s the best thing about gardening? Getting down and dirty with your hoes!

Jen: These interactions ALWAYS result in one of us walking away with minus points, why would you think this one would be any different? Anyway, come look at this, you’ll like this.

Jen: LOOK! He’s watching sports on TV like he’s people!

John: Oh that’s adorable! Hey speaking of sports, how is woohoo like a game of bridge?

Jen: *screams internally*

Finally, Jen gets to hang out with some intelligent lifeforms.

Jen: Alright. ‘Examine the lives of the best and the most fruitful sim and sims and ask yourself whether a tree which is supposed to grow to a proud height could do without bad weather and storms: whether misfortune and external resistance, whether any kinds of hatred, jealousy, stubbornness, mistrust, hardness, greed and violence do not belong to the favorable conditions without which any great growth even of virtue is scarcely possible?’

Tabby: Screw this.

Jen: ‘The poison from which the weaker nature perishes strengthens the strong sim – and he does not call it poison.’

John: My wife! I am so proud of you for reading to our child and furchildren and yet-to-be-born children AND getting a golden ticket to My Muse from the spiky-haired man because of your musical talent.

(Hey it’s Justin Kim again! Wonder if he’s come searching for his Hot Tub Time Machine mom.)

Justin: I’m a child and even I know that if you jump on her like that it’s not good for your yet-to-be-born children.

Pop

Jen: The hell is this?

John: You said you wanted new clothes.

Jen: But blue is so not my color.

John: But darling, now you match my shorts! 🎵Off to tend to my peppers I shall go...

Glitches

John: 🎵 With a broken arm, yes oh-ee-oh

Another day, another dollar simoleon...

Jen: TUCKER II! You lucrative little furball, thank you so much for pulling your weight while Mommy is carrying so much of it and thus can’t work herself, all thanks to that great big tit I’m married to.

John: What’s that?

Jen: I said is that the Greater Blue-Tit you’ve spotted there dear?

John: I think it is!

Jen: YAY I am so proud of you!

John: Me too!

John: Unff

I’m sorry, I can’t suspend my disbelief with this game any longer because Lucy IS the classmate that saw the rated R movie, and would be the one describing boobies and butts and bloody violence to the innocent child this chance card was actually meant for. So I picked Ignore, because a) no, and b) chance cards are bullshit, they have a 99.999999999999% chance of undoing all your good work in any scenario.

Oh looky who it is! Everyone’s favorite Desiderata resident. And, three nanoseconds of a chat with Jen results in Jen’s crumpled face of confusion and Natasha’s hatred thought bubble. Shame, really.

I’ve noticed the community tends to call her Nat, but all the Natashas I’ve known in my life (all two of them) go for Tash or Tasha. I’m torn. I’ll tell you what I’m NOT torn on. Her exquisite grilled cheese dress by the exquisite @strangetomato, amirite? 🧀

GO TABS!

Good: Tabby promoted Good: Smart investing Bad: Justin falling out with Lucy, probably because he was the kid the chance card was meant for and she was traumatizing him with talk of blood and boobies. I’m not gonna lose sleep over it, he’s all the way out in Viper Canyon so it wasn’t like they were gonna be besties in childhood. Maybe at college or something.

This family, I swear. They’re like the sim embodiment of Bender’s ‘impression of life at big Bri’s house’ in The Breakfast Club.

youtube

That’s if, uh, Bri’s parents constantly make sexually-charged advances toward one another.

Meanwhile, dat text doe! Brandi Broke Hair Hour is upon us.

Jen: Sweetie I’ve found myself wearing something I wouldn’t choose even if it were the last garment on the planet and I’m scared.

Lucy: It’s okay Mom, if I’ve lost all respect for you it’s primarily because I’m on the precipice of puberty and that’s what’s supposed to happen.

John: The heck is this? I’m the Family sim here. You can’t have it both ways.

John: THAT’S more like it. Hai little bestie!

Lucy: Hai Dad! Why are all these people in our house?

John: Oh, well Brandi Broke was on a walkby so I wanted to paint a picture of what your hair will look like tomorrow so that you’re prepared. And I got one of those annoying messages about whether I’d been abducted by aliens from Darren even though I spoke to him yesterday, so I felt guilty.

Meanwhile, Jennifer stares longingly at her guitar and gets all introspective about this five-minute lack of romance in her life, exacerbated by Brandi heartfarting at Darren. That Family/Knowledge attraction, it never fails. And yet, somehow I can’t see Dustin and Dirk as stepbrothers, but we need to find Brandi someone soon as she needs to up her brood to six for that stupid LTW about marrying off multiple kids. WHAT IF UNBORN BABYBROKE ISN’T THE MARRYING KIND, Brandi, ever think of that?!

(Makes mental note to create drahmz by making Unborn Babybroke a Romance sim who constantly disappoints its mother)

Jen: Oh that DOES it. You lot might be able to sit around waiting for these babies to fall out of me but I have to DO something.

Brandi you utter utter terrible stupid moron you are PENNILESS WHY are you tipping Jen all those simoleons 😱

Lucy meanwhile stares at her father and tries to picture Brandi’s hair on his face in a vain attempt to glimpse into her near future.

And yet... are these two meant to be though? The synchronized terrible dancing and constant thoughts of one another may be a sign. That said, Dina Caliente does that with Darren too and, much as I love Darren and Dina as individuals, the thought of that is so godawfully wrong that I always have to direct sims to speak with each of them separately in an attempt to stop them autonomously eating one another’s faces whenever they always show up in the same GD welcome wagon. #StopDinarren #SaveTheDreamers #ACRYouMonster

Lucy manages to alienate yet another boy from districts afar (like does her schoolbus refuel in Viper Canyon or something?) by saying things about art or theater that offend Gallagher Newson so deeply, he launches a tirade of vitriolic mansplaining at her while she checks her nails, unfazed. Atta girl.

Brandi: I wish we could all get along like we used to in middle school... I wish I could bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles and everyone would eat and be happy...

Best not look outside then Bran.

Tabby: Huh? Yeah? You want some o’ this? Come at me bro!

Tabby: Oh you think I can’t take you? Think again assclown, I’m a stunt double now, I eat fear FOR BREAKFAST.

And so the thrill ride begins. Lucy’s face is that unique mixture of anxiety and resignation that plainly says, ‘Well, my reign is at an end. It’s been real, friends.’

I love Tucker II, but the fact that he chooses THIS moment to act out for the first time in his life and start destroying the furniture is far from cool. Clearly he too is worried about upcoming changes in the pack hierarchy.

Stone cold Tabs meanwhile favors staying outside in the rain and having no part in any of this.

Tabby: 🎵 Hello darkness my old friend...

Urgh

IS NOOBOO TIME!

Spoiler alert: this nooboo actually ends up with blue eyes because I quit without saving to roll the pacifier a couple times, which is sad because neither nooboo has black hair now. But we’ll survive. Somehow. I just liked this snap.

When both your dog and your seconds-old nooboo are thinking about Brandi, it’s probably time for her to leave the house. But she won’t, because she’s a Family sim who subscribes to the stereotype of only caring about other people’s children. And pets.

3 days off? Pahaha. I don’t even have any hacks installed to share parental leave (I really should), and Jen was somehow still back at work the next day.

Poor Babygirl Burb (not her permanent name) isn’t getting a great start in life considering everybody’s just yelling about Babyboy Burb and not even acknowledging her. Well, except Jen, who hasn’t yet put her down. See that, Family sims?! That’s how to do it.

Case in point.

Brandi: Congrats!

John: Oh yeah, the nooboos? Great aren’t they. I’m sure I dropped The Boy around here somewhere.

The Boy: And my suffering beginneth...

John: The Boy! Ah, The Boy. There you are. The Boy.

(If you can’t already tell, John will be saying ‘The Boy’ in the same relieved and happy voice as the dad from 8 Simple Rules for the rest of his natural life, primarily because both of his daughters are genetically engineered to make his hair grey.)

Hey Brandi, ever feel like you’re intruding on an intimate family moment?

Brandi: Nup!

Lucy: I just can’t picture it ON me...

Brandi: Kid, what is it with you and my hair?

John: I’VE LOST THE BOY AGAIN

Lucy: Haha, my parents can be so incompetent sometimes.

Lucy: Actually... where are my parents?

Well Lucy, get ready to upscale that judgment of incompetence because...

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. John’s face. John’s face right there. Is the most smackable face I’ve ever seen.

Not only did Jennifer Burb give birth TO TWINS less than five minutes ago...

... but they unceremoniously dumped both twins in the Bouncinators, and they’re now screaming.

To which, their creators remain oblivious. There are some pretty terrible parents out there in the Sims universe BUT THESE TWO ARE HOT ON THEIR HEELS right now.

Hey, while these poor minutes-old creatures are stuck screaming in their Bouncinators while John presumably tries to create more problems for the family with his testicles, why don’t we meet them?

This is not at all named solely to give Alexander Goth a younger wife one day Cecilia! You can’t see them here because they’re squeezed shut in agony and anguish, but her eyes are deep blue, presumably from her grandfather Jeff Pleasant. Perhaps upon looking at her, her uncle Daniel will be overcome with the guilt referenced in his bio and try to send her to Mars.

And here’s Patrick! With his skintone plus the brown eyes and brown hair, he’s probably destined to be a John / Lucy clone, but we shall see. Let’s get one thing straight though (or should I say curly), when these anklebiters transition they are both leaping right into Jennifer Burb tousled waves territory.

Lucy: WHAT DO I DO

Don’t worry Lucy, we’ll pause this one here as it’s already been far too long a round and no doubt everyone involved is tired as hell.

Until next time!

#sims2 #pleasantview #john burb #jennifer burb #lucy burb #patrick burb #cecilia burb #brandi broke #darren dreamer #justin kim #gallagher newson #tucker burb #tabby burb #sims 2 premades #maxis premades #emmelfishuberhood #Pleasant Family #Pleasant Household #Tucker II Burb

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