an-island-universe-blog - Tumblr blog

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live sigur rós performances, even through youtube, are so breathtaking

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Good dialog doesn’t resemble conversation – it presents the illusion of conversation, subservient to the demands of characterisation and structure.

John Yorke (Into the Woods)

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dirk has a big love for big dogs

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Hello! Thanks for your tags on my brotzly piece!! Those wings took actual years. Just wanted to say; if you go to my blog, hit the art tag and click on the post, it'll give you a close up version, although it's still not the highest definition in the world unfortunately. :) Cheers!

No problem! Your work is lush; I can only imagiiinneeee. Lined wings once in 0.2 fineliner - NEVER AGAIN! Thank you! I will do so now and marvel over ur painting skills :- )

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Story time: I originally tried to post this piece when I first got active again a month or so ago, but tumblr was being its usual congenial self and not allowing it into the main tag. Since the hellsite seems to be playing nice again, I figure I’ll take the excuse of brotzly week to make another attempt to shuffle it in.

Based loosely off Herbet J. Draper’s piece The Lament for Icarus, and, obviously, in the theme of the day, angsty as fuuuuck. 

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dghda beginner bang » split the secret up (ao3)

Bart doesn’t even seem to notice that she’s doing it. That’s because, probably, Bart never seems to notice that she’s doing anything; it’s all natural to her, all calm. But. She gets excited, sometimes, or angry – rarely – and then the edges of her

shiver. Heat wave on the blacktop. Ken can’t even describe the way it looks, much as he’d like to; he wants to lay it out in logical steps, break it down like a code he’s struggling with. It isn’t that. It isn’t anything. Things it almost is, but isn’t:

- The hackles rising on the back of a dog’s neck - The sudden violent spreading of wings - Like Bart is a mouth, and that mouth is opening, and at the bottom of that mouth there are all these teeth.

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Eclipse

Brotzly. AU.

First drabble for this pairing, with an AU setting much happier than the premise of Season one.

413 words

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It’s kind of like they’re big complete polar opposites, him and Dirk. And he doesn’t mean the hyperbole to not have intent because it does - it has the same kind of intent as masked men and wrongfully deposited dog spirits.

      Dirk is, if Todd were to get awfully nondescript and sentimental on a bare-boned winter night, entirely like the sun.

      So, by deduction, he is the moon.

Cold, and grey, and ephemeral. A shapeshifter. And a liar - for when is the moon full for more than a night? When isn’t it hiding at least some of its’ beauty away under the guise of some lunar calendar? Some clouds?

      So run with this: if Todd is the moon, if Todd controls the seas, if Todd is, like the next person, an intrinsic part of this Universal tapestry, then Todd also holds one of the greatest function for human life. For certain Universes in particular.

          (Even though he needs reminding of this more often than not.)

See if Todd labels himself the moon because he sees it as dark, and shallow, and an endless illusion, then he has unwittingly worked himself into being so fundamentally important that he is irrevocably irreplaceable.

That’s what Dirk likes about Todd’s musing.

        It’s Todd-tinted. Like rusted gold. Like dusty blues.

It has cracks for the sun to seep through and bleed back colour, and warmth, and joy.

“Todd goggles!” Dirk calls them, over the phone a hundred and two miles away.

      “Come back home soon?” Todd says back, even though what he really says is: Dirk, shut up.

“Of course. Oh! Todd! Have you heard? There’s going to be an eclipse on Sunday, we should definitely go and check it out. I’ve heard that you’ll be able to see the antumbra for miles, and I thought we could sit by Farah and Amanda’s and maybe grab a coffee and some blankets because it’s going to be chilly at three o’clock especially, but we might want to stay out that long anyway because…”

Todd - present Todd - lets Dirk’s voice wash over him like soap suds, and rock pools, and sinks into their apartment bed with a huff. He talks of it being the rarest sarost in a while, and Todd honestly has no idea what that means, but his fingers have a sudden yearning for guitar strings and skin that he can’t afford to visit too often.

        “-Will you bring your guitar?”

(Dirk has always been fond of the moon).

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Burnout

Brotzly. Post Season 1.

Kind of another experimental piece interpreting a potential solution to the kidnapping. Or rather, the aftermath of said solution.

866 words

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“Dirk?” Todd asks, a good, freeing edge to the question.

                    “Todd!” Dirk says, with a megawatt smile, “Hello!”

    Light-bulbs run out, don’t they? Especially with megawatts to burn. And sometimes it hurts to change them because of static electricity and heated glass - Todd has always hated that smell. Hates it more now.

    He doesn’t know where the courage came from to say those first words, but he loses it very quickly, and instead gapes at Dirk with the phantom sensation that his own hand is curled flimsily around a gun- a gun- Instead, he lets his hands speak, with flailing gestures.

    “Me? Oh I’m fine. I mean, it was a bit weird, being home.” Dirk edges around the word like it’s a disease, or a recently deceased family member. Todd is acutely aware of something festering upwards from his gut.

    “A home away from home.” Dirk amends, finding that term pleasing enough to unknot the groove in his brow. Todd is glad for it.

He’s also glad for hot showers, and peeling wallpaper, and the glaring vision of the number ‘three’ on his wall, boring into his head like a reminder to speak truthfully.

      So what is the current truth?

Neither of them speak. Todd is too preoccupied picking apart the hollows of his friend’s eyes, and the days on the calendar he has scrawled on. See, he reasons that it really wasn’t that long, and that he looks well-fed, and healthy to a degree, but there is that awful note to his posture- like surgical rigidness, that makes this feel all out of place, and his anxieties continue to claw until he is cloaked with them.

      What is the truth?

“-Dirk, the truth is that I was scared shitless because I thought you were going to die!”

        Todd blurts, and is sure he looks as equally horrified as Dirk does as his words part.

“Or- or, that all this time you were dead. That they had slaughtered you because they way you spoke of them- the tone you used that first time under the trees with the gun and the grass and the river- that one, that one had always made me angry, and scared, and sad-”

“-So I thought, I thought, oh, great! This is the ultimate punishment isn’t it!” Todd is running out of breath, throat seizing on hot, summer air from his window; dust catching on his tongue and the back of his throat. Dirk stands in that stupid leather jacket, looking as fine as ever, but looks are too deceiving to be sure. “-That the universe had just waited to unload this shitstorm on me as some kind of twisted penance and I thought I could take it, I thought I’d be okay but that was kind of stupid, and kind of selfish, and I looked anyway but Farah’s plans really are so reckless Dirk you wouldn’t believe the number of times Amanda- Amanda almost got shot. Amanda almost got shot. And I thought I could lose one thing, and lose another and another and another because I had already done that. It’s just- It’s just growing pains, right? But I couldn’t. I couldn’t. And I know there’s that stupid saying that you can’t know what you love until it’s gone but I think it’s really, actually true now. Because the moment we found you I felt this relief that I have never, ever, felt and I really don’t know why I’m telling you any of this please shut me up soon because I can’t stop and I think that I might-”

      “Todd.” Dirk says, voice tailing with a rise, and he freezes mid-unravelling to heave for breath. He folds his fingers together once, shuffles forwards, and places a hand on Todd’s shoulder.

“I’m alright.”

      “No you’re not!” Todd rebukes, eyes wet under the apartment lamp. Dirk can hear crickets from one of his stupid nature tapes, and he begins to feel more at home than he ever has.

“I am.” Todd hates the way his voice sounds - low and dull, like a plastic screen protector covering the cadence he knows he should be hearing. Guilt snares his breastbone, and he pulls up an arm to wipe his cheek and grapple with his truth- the truth.

“No. No, Dirk. You’re just trying to calm me down! Because I’m being ridiculous and I know I’m being ridiculous, but Dirk, you’re not alright! I don’t think any of us could be alright after just being hunted by a psychotic cult and then there’s bombs and guns and missing holistic detectives and sudden questioning of mortality, and I really, really, really wish that it was the Universe’s will for us to be stuck helping cats down from trees instead of all of this- this sudden, ridiculous chain of events—”

This time, he cuts himself off, and stands, in the faded-out shirt of his band, on the creaking floorboards of his apartment, with Dirk’s eyes laid gently on his, and feels himself unravel with the tension he unloads.

        “And you… you don’t have to be okay.”

Todd says, catching both is breath and a slow-moving tear from Dirk’s cheekbone.

            “You don’t have to be anything.”

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HI EVERYONE !! 👋  we are delighted to announce: it’s finally time for BROTZLY WEEK ! bless u all for being so patient while we set this up and for sticking with us through the reschedule, we’re ready to kick off on monday!!!!!!

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THE DAYS:

day 1 (june 12)   /   ‘FIRST’ (date? kiss? something else? up to you..)

day 2 (june 13)   /   ‘JACKET’

day 3 (june 14)   /   HEADCANONS

day 4 (june 15)   /   ‘LAUGH’

day 5 (june 16)   /   ‘ANGST’

day 6 (june 17)   /   AUs

day 7 (june 18)   /   ‘A HUNCH’

⭐ BONUS DAY (june 19)   /   CREATOR’S CHOICE

a big thanku to everyone who sent in ideas for prompts!!!  we’d also like to add: if ur sad your prompt idea wasn’t picked, feel free to send another ask, we’re putting together a big list of them for anyone who isn’t sure what to pick for bonus day 💛 

how do i make sure you see my stuff?:  we track #brotzlyweek + #brotzly week !!! but if you’re worried it won’t get seen or want to make sure, you can feel free to @ us in the post!

what am i allowed to make?: anything!!! we accept all art, fanfic, edits, gifsets, fanvids, meta posts, cosplay pics, mixes, and anything else !!! we’d also like to state: while adult content is allowed, we will not be reblogging it here due to the number of minors in our fandom. please remember to tag it and keep this a safe space for our younger fans

do i have to use the prompts?: nope!! the main purpose of the prompts is to give our fandom’s lovely artists+writers ideas!! ur welcome to interpret them as loosely as you want or to disregard them entirely!! if you have a fic you just finished or some art that doesn’t fit a theme it’s still absoluely allowed!

rules: 1) don’t repost other people’s artwork or generally be a dick 2) if you make something graphic or nsfw, remember to tag appropriately!! please keep the fandom safe and friendly for everyone!

————————————–

ANY OTHER QUESTIONS? FEEL FREE TO SEND US AN ASK 🤗 (-mod @dirksbf/@benjibattle)

[an-island-universe-blog]

Burnout

Brotzly. Post Season 1.

Kind of another experimental piece interpreting a potential solution to the kidnapping. Or rather, the aftermath of said solution.

866 words

_____________________________________________________________________

“Dirk?” Todd asks, a good, freeing edge to the question.

                    “Todd!” Dirk says, with a megawatt smile, “Hello!”

    Light-bulbs run out, don’t they? Especially with megawatts to burn. And sometimes it hurts to change them because of static electricity and heated glass - Todd has always hated that smell. Hates it more now.

    He doesn’t know where the courage came from to say those first words, but he loses it very quickly, and instead gapes at Dirk with the phantom sensation that his own hand is curled flimsily around a gun- a gun- Instead, he lets his hands speak, with flailing gestures.

    “Me? Oh I’m fine. I mean, it was a bit weird, being home.” Dirk edges around the word like it’s a disease, or a recently deceased family member. Todd is acutely aware of something festering upwards from his gut.

    “A home away from home.” Dirk amends, finding that term pleasing enough to unknot the groove in his brow. Todd is glad for it.

He’s also glad for hot showers, and peeling wallpaper, and the glaring vision of the number ‘three’ on his wall, boring into his head like a reminder to speak truthfully.

      So what is the current truth?

Neither of them speak. Todd is too preoccupied picking apart the hollows of his friend’s eyes, and the days on the calendar he has scrawled on. See, he reasons that it really wasn’t that long, and that he looks well-fed, and healthy to a degree, but there is that awful note to his posture- like surgical rigidness, that makes this feel all out of place, and his anxieties continue to claw until he is cloaked with them.

      What is the truth?

“-Dirk, the truth is that I was scared shitless because I thought you were going to die!”

        Todd blurts, and is sure he looks as equally horrified as Dirk does as his words part.

“Or- or, that all this time you were dead. That they had slaughtered you because they way you spoke of them- the tone you used that first time under the trees with the gun and the grass and the river- that one, that one had always made me angry, and scared, and sad-”

“-So I thought, I thought, oh, great! This is the ultimate punishment isn’t it!” Todd is running out of breath, throat seizing on hot, summer air from his window; dust catching on his tongue and the back of his throat. Dirk stands in that stupid leather jacket, looking as fine as ever, but looks are too deceiving to be sure. “-That the universe had just waited to unload this shitstorm on me as some kind of twisted penance and I thought I could take it, I thought I’d be okay but that was kind of stupid, and kind of selfish, and I looked anyway but Farah’s plans really are so reckless Dirk you wouldn’t believe the number of times Amanda- Amanda almost got shot. Amanda almost got shot. And I thought I could lose one thing, and lose another and another and another because I had already done that. It’s just- It’s just growing pains, right? But I couldn’t. I couldn’t. And I know there’s that stupid saying that you can’t know what you love until it’s gone but I think it’s really, actually true now. Because the moment we found you I felt this relief that I have never, ever, felt and I really don’t know why I’m telling you any of this please shut me up soon because I can’t stop and I think that I might-”

      “Todd.” Dirk says, voice tailing with a rise, and he freezes mid-unravelling to heave for breath. He folds his fingers together once, shuffles forwards, and places a hand on Todd’s shoulder.

“I’m alright.”

      “No you’re not!” Todd rebukes, eyes wet under the apartment lamp. Dirk can hear crickets from one of his stupid nature tapes, and he begins to feel more at home than he ever has.

“I am.” Todd hates the way his voice sounds - low and dull, like a plastic screen protector covering the cadence he knows he should be hearing. Guilt snares his breastbone, and he pulls up an arm to wipe his cheek and grapple with his truth- the truth.

“No. No, Dirk. You’re just trying to calm me down! Because I’m being ridiculous and I know I’m being ridiculous, but Dirk, you’re not alright! I don’t think any of us could be alright after just being hunted by a psychotic cult and then there’s bombs and guns and missing holistic detectives and sudden questioning of mortality, and I really, really, really wish that it was the Universe’s will for us to be stuck helping cats down from trees instead of all of this- this sudden, ridiculous chain of events—”

This time, he cuts himself off, and stands, in the faded-out shirt of his band, on the creaking floorboards of his apartment, with Dirk’s eyes laid gently on his, and feels himself unravel with the tension he unloads.

        “And you… you don’t have to be okay.”

Todd says, catching both his breath and a slow-moving tear from Dirk’s cheekbone.

            “You don’t have to be anything.”

[an-island-universe-blog]

Eclipse

Brotzly. AU.

First drabble for this pairing, with an AU setting much happier than the premise of Season one.

413 words

_____________________________________________________________________

It’s kind of like they’re big complete polar opposites, him and Dirk. And he doesn’t mean the hyperbole to not have intent because it does - it has the same kind of intent as masked men and wrongfully deposited dog spirits.

      Dirk is, if Todd were to get awfully nondescript and sentimental on a bare-boned winter night, entirely like the sun.

      So, by deduction, he is the moon.

Cold, and grey, and ephemeral. A shapeshifter. And a liar - for when is the moon full for more than a night? When isn’t it hiding at least some of its’ beauty away under the guise of some lunar calendar? Some clouds?

      So run with this: if Todd is the moon, if Todd controls the seas, if Todd is, like the next person, an intrinsic part of this Universal tapestry, then Todd also holds one of the greatest functions for human life. For certain Universes in particular.

          (Even though he needs reminding of this more often than not.)

See if Todd labels himself the moon because he sees it as dark, and shallow, and an endless illusion, then he has unwittingly worked himself into being so fundamentally important that he is irrevocably irreplaceable.

That’s what Dirk likes about Todd’s musing.

        It’s Todd-tinted. Like rusted gold. Like dusty blues.

It has cracks for the sun to seep through and bleed back colour, and warmth, and joy.

“Todd goggles!” Dirk calls them, over the phone a hundred and two miles away.

      “Come back home soon?” Todd says back, even though what he really says is: Dirk, shut up.

“Of course. Oh! Todd! Have you heard? There’s going to be an eclipse on Sunday, we should definitely go and check it out. I’ve heard that you’ll be able to see the antumbra for miles, and I thought we could sit by Farah and Amanda’s and maybe grab a coffee and some blankets because it’s going to be chilly at three o’clock especially, but we might want to stay out that long anyway because…”

Todd - present Todd - lets Dirk’s voice wash over him like soap suds, and rock pools, and sinks into their apartment bed with a huff. He talks of it being the rarest sarost in a while, and Todd honestly has no idea what that means, but his fingers have a sudden yearning for guitar strings and skin that he can’t afford to visit too often.

        “-Will you bring your guitar?”

(Dirk has always been fond of the moon).

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Reasons I will never get over the diner scene in the last episode of DGHDA

1. Todd and Dirk sitting extremely close together because they are so comfortable with each other now

2. Farah having faith in Dirk and investing in his agency

3. Dirk being completely bowled over by this even though he’s been loudly insisting everyone would join his detective agency for the whole season

4. Dirk then trying to recover from his surprise at having two new friends/colleagues who like him and believe in him, trying to play it cool even though he’s tragically bad at it

5. Todd and Dirk finishing each other’s freaking sentences oh my god

6. “So sane we’re boring”

7. Todd and Farah, the neurotic, affection-starved worrywarts of the show LAUGHING and having a good time with Dirk

8. Dirk wearing the Mexican Funeral t-shirt under his fucking yellow jacket because Todd PICKED OUT THAT FUCKING OUTFIT FOR HIM

9. Farah taking a chance on life and her weird new friends, embracing the weird, you go Farah

10. Dirk being a ball of sunshine and finally having Todd join in his laughter instead of just staring at him with the wide, angry eyes of emotional constipation

11. Did I mention they literally finish each other’s sentences

I mean man, what a great final ending wrap-up scene after which literally nothing happened

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So this was apparently a season 1 deleted scene that nobody talks about.. This would have really opened up Dirk’s backstory, why oh why did they cut it? (Also can we talk about how freakishly that kid looks like dirk? Like woah that’s good casting.. Also creds to the Dirk gently bbca twitter for the pictures)

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@brotzlyweek day #3: Headcanons

The lovely @armadabrontzman made an excellent point here. 

This is my homage: Dirk rocking out to Montenegro’s entry! Because yes, I believe with absolute certainty that Dirk is Eurovision trash…

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@lavellington and yet you’ve got to respect his commitment… I mean, nested treasure maps, that’s next level impressive

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if you would be so kind as to reblog this if you feel insecure about your writing skills.