#dirk seeing todd past all the fuck ups

[clockworkcheetah]

i feel like being seen is an important theme in dghda

[quadrantadvisor]

DP X Dirk Gently

Prompt: Bleeding out in an alleyway

Words: 1,318

On AO3

-

“Do you think this is part of a case?” Dirk shouted.

“What?” Todd shouted back, pushing his legs to just move, keep moving. The sounds of the fucking lasers being shot at them continued, as well as the angry voices of the men in the white suits. The two of them turned a corner, and Todd’s lungs burned as he pushed himself just a little more.

“I said, do you thi— whoa!” Todd cut Dirk off by grabbing his jacket and manhandling him through what looked like the back door of a restaurant, miraculously propped open by a brick. Todd kicked the brick out of the way, making the door click shut.

“I heard what you said,” Todd hissed, trying to keep himself quiet. “First off, why are you asking me? I’m not the holistic detective. Second off, you are the holistic detective! When has anything that ever happened to you not been part of a case?”

Dirk opened his mouth, then seemed to think for a moment. “What exactly are we counting as a case? Because some of my life experiences could be a bit debatable—”

“Hey, you can’t just come in here,” said a man in an apron, entering the room with a full garbage bag in hand. He looked pretty angry, all things considered.

“Sorry, sir,” Todd told him. “We’re leaving, but uh, can we head out a different exit? We would really appreciate it, there were some people chasing us. We’re really not trying to cause trouble-”

“Todd!,” Dirk whispered, hushed and urgent, “They’re right outside.”

“I get it,” the cook was saying, “but you can’t just barge in wherever—”

“—lost track of the subject—” Todd caught from just past the door. Dirk pressed his ear against the crack, listening.

“It’s a safety issue, I don’t know who you are—”

“—failed to tag the suspicious individuals at the scene—”

“Not to mention the health risk, there’s food stored back here—”

“—evidence of overshadowing—”

“Right!” Todd said, once again bodily grabbing his friend. “We’ll get out of your hair, won’t happen again, but we need to go right now.” Todd looked at Dirk, shaking him just a bit in emphasis.

“Yes, we’ll just be on our way,” Dirk agreed. “Sorry about my friend here,” he told the cook, tone conspiratorial. “He can be a bit dense. I’ll keep him out of trouble.” He patted Todd on the shoulder.

“Make sure you do,” the cook agreed. “There’s an employee entrance down the hall this way, I’ll let you out there.

-

“So,” Dirk said, kicking a rock down the street, “another cult, do you think?”

“I dunno,” Todd replied. “Could be, but their outfits looked more like uniforms to me.”

“You’re right, another cult would be a bit dull,” Dirk mused. “But then, shadowy government organizations have been a dime a dozen, haven’t they?”

“You do remember where you left the car, right?” Todd asked.

Dirk scoffed. “Of course I do!”

“Because it feels a little bit like we’re wandering aimlessly.”

“You’re going to feel silly in a moment, because it’s just down this way.”

“You’re sure.”

“Either that, or a clue!”

Todd sighed. Dirk turned into an alley. Todd was following him, but stopped when he stepped in a puddle. A puddle of something bright green, with a trail of it leading right where Dirk was going.

“Uh, Dirk, I don’t think that’s it,” Todd called.

“That’s where you’re wrong!” Dirk called back, tone oddly strangled.

Todd had a minor panic and sped around the corner, nearly crashing into Dirk.

It turned out that Dirk was wrong. They’d found the car and a clue.

If anything with that much blood could be considered a clue.

Tucked up between the car and the alley wall was a body, someone dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with dark hair. Their front was completely soaked in red. Todd swore, did a quick sweep of their surroundings for anything dangerous, then jogged to the figure’s side. Dirk got distracted by the green footprints Todd left.

“No pulse,” Todd said, heart dropping. “And he’s cold.” Of course he was, no one could survive losing that much blood. Closer up, Todd could see that he was just a kid.

Dirk’s head popped up from where he was examining the trails over the asphalt, bright unnatural green that transitioned into red. “So it is a case!”

“Can you have some sensitivity Dirk, what this is is a corpse,” Todd said.

“mmmmmmuh…?” the corpse said.

“AH!” Dirk and Todd both screamed.

Dirk recovered fastest, walking up to nudge Todd where he’d jumped up and away from the body. “A really interesting case!” he enthused. “Now, take off your shirt.”

“What?”

“Our new friend needs immediate first aid, and I don’t want to ruin mine,” Dirk said, pouting a bit as he displayed the Mexican Funeral shirt that Todd had gifted him.

“Fine,” Todd complied, stripping off his layers. “I’m still just freaking out that I never found his pulse,” he added, muffled by a shirt over his face.

“Hi there!” Dirk said to the boy, kneeling down to eye level. “My name’s Dirk, and I’m a detective. This is my friendsistent, Todd. We’re here to help, alright?”

The boy’s eyes cracked open, and one of his hands twitched. A wheeze came through slightly parted lips, before he slumped back down again.

“Here,” Todd said, holding out his shirt.

“What, me?” Dirk asked. “I don’t know any first aid.”

Todd huffed. “Whatever, just-”

“-signature’s getting close,” said a voice from the end of the alley, and Todd shut up quick so he could hear the tromp of polished dress shoes.

“Grab him, get in the car, get in the car, now,” Todd ordered under his breath, and Dirk rushed to comply, forgetting that he was smearing blood all over his precious, precious shirt. He laid out the boy in the back seat, realizing belatedly that there wasn’t any room left for him, and Todd was already starting to peel away. He scrunched down into the foot well, using his body as a brace to keep the kid from rolling. While he was at it, he balled up Todd’s sacrificed shirt and placed it under the kid’s head as a pillow.

The car rocked with an impact, and Dirk looked up to see that the hood was smoking slightly from whatever sort of gun those guys in white were packing. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit,” Todd was chanting as he floored the pedal, picking up as much speed as he could in the limited space and headed straight towards a real human being who was shooting at him.

The man dodged the car at the last second, firing a few more shots into their bumper, but fortunately missing the tire. Dirk craned up to look out the back, catching a glimpse of him speaking into a communicator on his wrist before he was out of sight.

“Why are they after us?” Todd cried out. “What on Earth did we do​?”

“More importantly, we have a boy now—who may in fact be dying, kind of up in the air at this point,” Dirk pointed out.

“We should’ve just left him there, called the cops, something. Now he’s all mixed up in this mess with us.”

“Todd,” Dirk admonished, “he’s already involved.”

“Oh, and you know that, do you?” Todd snarked.

“That is how it works, yes,” Dirk replied, tone a little distant as he looked over their new charge.

“Right,” Todd sighed. “Well, I don’t know how some half dead teenager is possibly connected to those shady dudes in suits, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Of course we will!” Dirk replied.

“’Cause we’re great at it.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Dirk confirmed.

“After we buy a first aid kit.”

“Good idea.”

“And call Farah.”

“That too.”

[best-fictional-detective]

Okay okay, Dirk Gently needs some propoganda cause he's probably gonna lose to Nancy Drew and I need him to at least get past the first round or I will be so sad.

First off, he's silly, he's a goofy lil guy and all the cases he's on are chock full of inane insane bullshit and he thrives on chaos

Next, he's autistic, I don't care if it's not canon I'm declaring it so that man has autism, definitly, 100%

Thirdly, he's a fruity lil motherfucker, this one also isn't canon but I remember seeing I pride comic where he kissed the other main character Todd(I could have also totally made that up) also I'm like 80% sure I remember seeing somewhere that the actor who plays him is gay. Anyway, he's gay as fuck and you cannot tell me otherwise.

Dude's the best detective by like default because he doesn't even have to look for clues, bitch just wanders around aimlessly until he finds shit it's wonderful.

He's dumb as hell and I mean that in an incredibly affectionate way

His assistants/sidekicks/friends are a depressed sarcastic thirty year old who's life got derailed after meeting Dirk and an cool badass bodyguard who's probably has some underlying trauma she's not dealing with

He's got magic universe powers(it doesn't make sense unless you've watched the show but I assure you he has them) and was locked up in a government facility when he was a kid with other people with aforementioned powers

That's it, thank you for coming to my ted talk

(I will give you a virtual cookie if you vote for Dirk🍪)

.

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Birthday Newt!

@dont-offend-the-bees Inspired by your current love of Lockwood & Co., and your old love of DGHDA, here is “the two members who consider themselves the ‘sensible ones’ of their respective polycules complain to each other about their respective Disaster Boyfriends.” XD It’s at least ghost-hunting adjacent, as per what you said before? XD Anyway, enjoy!

---

“So. . .has yours ever come home and tried to hide the fact that he was ‘lightly stabbed?’”

“Not yet, but I would not be surprised if he did,” Todd replied, rolling his eyes. “Dirk is – not good with his own personal safety, let’s put it that way. He tries to blame the holistic stuff – ‘if the universe says I’m going to get hurt, Todd, there’s not much I can do about it’ – but I know it’s because he just doesn’t think about the consequences of his actions. Like, ever.”

“Yeah, Lockwood is definitely the same way,” Lucy said with a long-suffering sigh. “He’s always ‘rush in now, ask questions later.’ Which drives poor George mad.” She shook her head. “Poor fellow is always neck-deep in his research and Lockwood – well, he doesn’t actually ignore it, but he doesn’t listen to him as much as he could.”

“Yeah, I bet he doesn’t. . .I wonder if that’s how Mike feels sometimes,” Todd mused, taking a biscuit from the offered tin. “Thanks. . .he’s really into looking up all the weird phenomena we get tangled up in. Mostly because he’s always hoping it’s actually aliens, but still.” Todd dunked his biscuit in his coffee. “Dude works his butt off to get us as much information on the latest round of bullshit as possible. . .only for Dirk to ignore it because ‘I’m a detective who doesn’t look for clues, why would I do research?’”

“Mmm. . .admittedly, your ‘holistic’ bullshit seems rather different from our ghostly variation,” Lucy pointed out, taking a biscuit for herself. “Hopefully the boys don’t notice the change in the rotation. . .anyway, I thought the whole point of it is that it’s all coincidences and lucky breaks and bizarre accidents.”

“Yeah, but you can still write stuff down about it,” Todd responded through a mouthful of biscuit. He chewed and swallowed at her look. “Sorry. . .it’s not like people don’t do books on ESP and psychic readings and–”

“Isn’t Dirk very firm on the fact that he’s not psychic?”

Todd waggled a hand. “I think that’s more he doesn’t want anyone thinking he can see the future or predict shit on command. Like Blackwing thought he could.” He swirled his coffee, face hard. “He doesn’t talk much about what went down there. . .but I know it involved them calling him stupid a lot. And paintballing him in the face for some fucking reason.”

Lucy winced. “Right. I wouldn’t call myself psychic either if that’s what it meant.”

“Exactly. . .but he can still figure out shit that nobody else can, get these weird-ass hints from the universe that only he can piece together, so. . .” Todd sighed. “I dunno how to describe it, honestly. ‘Holistic’ fits as well as anything.”

“Yeah. What surprises me about it is that he’s still got whatever it is,” Lucy admitted, dunking her own biscuit. “The Talent. . .it doesn’t last long past a person’s twentieth birthday. And while I wasn’t happy about having it before – we’ve really started making a difference in people’s lives. And. . .” She sighed, taking a chomp of her soaked cookie. “I don’t know. It’s a dangerous life, but – someone’s got to do it.”

“Yeah, we all kind of feel that way about our stuff too.” Todd scowled. “Though we’re all in our thirties, not our fucking teens. Your ‘Talent’ is just one more thing I’m adding to the list of ‘shit I’d like to punch the universe in the face for.”

Lucy laughed. “If you ever figure out how, let me know. I’ve got my share of grievances.”

“No problem. Now – Lockwood ever accidentally set a house on fire while stealing a dog?”

---

[bellamer]

A crossover has been stirring in my mind with the boys not actually dying or they did die but their corpses or whatever was left of their corpses and or dna were taken and "reborn" by Blackwing. They're kinda like clones but have little or no recollection of their past lives. This happens right around when Vogel is captured and inducted into The Rowdy 3.

Basically, the boys are now part of Project Incubus.

At first the two groups fucking hate each other. Except for Marko and Vogel, they become pretty close right away.

Then they all become pretty close over time.

Cross and Dwayne get on pretty good terms, they play scrabble together. Martin and David don't like each other and often argue but they do see common ground sometimes so they end up not totally hating each other, Paul and Gripps have to be separated more often than not because they cause so much fucking chaos together.

They all have one thing in common though. They hate authority.

When Vogel is captured, that's when everything goes to shit in Project Blackwing and Project Incubus all together, and they all end up escaping. They end up going their separate ways but fate keeps bringing them back together so sometimes they do stick around with each other.

I'm incorporating the Vogel is trans headcanon into this too because I headcanon Marko as trans and just thought it would be nice.

Also, the boys finding out psychic vampires exist and trying to figure that shit out cuz "There's more than one type of vampire ?!?", them meeting Amanda and her not being afraid of them even if they're the blood sucky type of vampire so they immediately like her cuz "Damn, this bitch is hard core"

Don't know how they'd react to Dirk, Todd, Farah and the other characters though. I'll figure it out. Also The Boys being transported into that fairyland weird shit that happened in season 2 would be hysterical.

[generalized-incompetence]

Listen the cave scene when Todd and Dirk first arrive in Wendimoor drives me up the wall and I simply cannot take it anymore so I have fixed it for myself so that (1) Todd does not leave (or comes back at least), and (2) Dirk has some sort of emotional resolution that’s not just “oh I found A Clue so my trauma is fixed now.” Anyway please read on for my new updated hopefully improved personal canon.

---

I’ll solve this one on my own.

Todd tromps through the woods, still pulsing with anger. He’d lost everything for Dirk, given up everything, and for Dirk to quit now, when they’re so close –

For once in my life, I don’t quit.

That’s right. He’s changed. He didn’t quit on finding Dirk, and he’s not going to quit on finding Amanda, either, with Dirk or without him.

Friendship isn’t just about someone being there for you. It’s about you being there for them, too.

He was there for Dirk. He is there for Dirk. He would be there for Dirk, if Dirk would stop being such a - such a –

I leave a trail of dead people –

Todd kicks a tree once, then twice, then over and over, wailing away at the bark like it’s responsible for all of this. He keeps seeing Dirk’s slumped shoulders, Dirk’s blank eyes. He is trying to be there for Dirk, but he’s just some guy, so far out of his depth, and it’s not that Dirk’s failed him, it’s that he’s failed Dirk, that all his efforts to support and befriend and, yes, pep-talk him into his bullshit have only led them to death and despair, to hopelessness in a fucking fake dimension, and no matter where Dirk keeps placing the blame, this whole mess is Todd’s fault, too.

He slumps forward, his forehead resting on the rough bark of the alternate dimensional tree. This whole mess, he thinks again, is his fault too.

For once in my life, I don’t quit.

So why has he quit on Dirk?

The alternate dimensional leaves rustle above him, and he hears Dirk again, Dirk spiraling, Dirk in full depths of panic: Wrong, wrong, wrong, and then I end up alone…

No, he thinks, pushing himself off the tree and turning back. Not alone. Not anymore.

---

Dirk is alone again.

If he keeps going, more people will die, and he’ll be alone. If he stops, people will probably still die, and he’ll be alone. There’s no winning here. There never is.

But he’d thought, maybe, this time…

He draws his knees up into his chest and buries his head in his arms, wishing he could block everything out: the past, the present, this case, this dimension. If the universe wants this case solved, it can damn well solve it itself. Todd is gone, as he should be, and Dirk is done, and there’s nothing else left.

“...Dirk?” says a voice.

It’s not Todd. It can’t be Todd, because Todd left. Still. Dirk looks up.

“Are you okay?” says Todd.

Dirk wants to shrink into the wall, to bury himself under the floor. “What do you want,” he says.

Todd rubs his face. His knuckles are cracked and bleeding. More pain, Dirk thinks, caused by him. "I… shouldn't have left," Todd says to the floor. "Sorry."

Dirk is… Dirk doesn’t know what he is. He is angry, frustrated, despondent - and tired, so tired, tired of getting his hopes up, just to have them dashed again. "Why not?" he snaps. "We're not friends, according to you."

Pain flashes across Todd's face, and something in Dirk is glad. "I shouldn't have said that," Todd says. "I am your friend, but I'm a - I'm a pretty shitty one."

Dirk doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn't say anything. Todd hovers in the cave entrance a while longer and then crosses the cave to sit next to Dirk, leaning back against the hanging vines, which are probably significant in ways Dirk refuses to think about. Dirk doesn't react except to turn his head slightly away. 

Silence presses in around them. Dirk doesn't move to break it. Todd is so quiet Dirk can almost forget he's there; it's just Dirk and the dark and the memory of Priest's voice. If this whole place is a dream then maybe Priest is just a nightmare, but nightmares can do damage enough. Priest is no fool, he'll find the bed and he'll come through, he'll drag Dirk back - and why shouldn't he? It's where Dirk belongs.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong…

"Dirk," says Todd, so quietly that Dirk almost misses it, "it's not your fault."

And he sounds –

And his voice is –

And then suddenly Dirk is crying, tears are streaming down his face, because Todd's voice is kind. Because he sounds like he means it. Because after everything Dirk has done to ruin his life and everyone's around him, Todd is still here. It is unfathomable to Dirk, that anyone would ever come back; people leave, or they die, that’s all there ever is. But Todd –

Todd, his friend –

Todd, who doesn’t think this is his fault –

Dirk collapses into Todd, sobbing so hard he can barely breathe, for everything he is and isn’t, all he’s done and had to do. For The Boy, whoever he is. For Farah, left behind. For all those people at the hospital, all those people, because of him –

He clutches Todd’s shirt like he’s drowning, because he is, always has been. He buries his face in Todd’s chest like he can burrow inside Todd’s voice. “It’s not your fault,” Todd repeats, and maybe if Dirk’s close enough, he’ll believe it. Todd’s arms close around him, Todd, his friend, and Dirk lets go, lets himself feel, lets out all the pain and the agony of being that torment him every day. 

He cries until there’s nothing left, until he’s wrung-out and shuddering, and as he sniffles and struggles to breathe, Todd is still there. Todd stays.

---

Dirk wakes in the morning with swollen eyes and a stuffy nose and Todd Brotzman snoring on his shoulder.

Still here, Dirk thinks, and smiles faintly. The morning light streams through a gap in the cave and paints Todd’s face in gentle gold. Todd is rumpled and mussed, shirt still stained with Dirk’s tears, but to Dirk, he is beautiful.

He doesn’t know if it’s the sleep or the cry or just Todd, but he feels… lighter. Not good - not yet - but better. He does his best to stretch his sleep-cramped arms without waking Todd up. The giant moon smiles down from above, and Dirk thinks, maybe, he might like to explore this place.

Todd shifts, dislodging a vine, and light glances off some feature of the cave wall. No - not a feature. Dirk tilts his head. It almost looks manmade. Almost like… a drawing.

Dirk’s heart sinks as fast as it had risen. The universe, he thinks, plays dirty. If he keeps going, he’ll just hurt more people; so many have died, and it’s –

It’s not your fault, says Todd’s voice, unwavering.

He may be wrong, he thinks, with resolve. But he is not alone. Not anymore.

Todd stirs, opening bleary eyes. “Dirk?” he says. “Where are we?”

Dirk takes a deep breath and smiles. “Wendimoor,” he says, “remember? And you’ll never believe what I’ve just found.”

[sacred-algae]

Nights Like These

It's no secret that Todd is bad at feelings. Bad at expressing them, bad at handling them. Really bad at handling them. Because Dirk has a boyfriend. A boyfriend who isn't Todd. And it tears him apart. All he ever feels any more is hopelessness. And tonight was no different. Until it was. It was about to be VERY different.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2,851

       It was nights like these where Todd didn’t like to think. He wished he was incapable of thinking. Screw that, he wished he didn’t love him. 

       He’d never been in love before and oh how he wishes he wasn’t right now. 

       Because this sucked. It hurt like hell. 

       Having to see him every day. See his beautiful smile and perfect eyes and know that he didn’t love him back.

       Being in love with Dirk was one thing a month ago. 

       He always knew he liked him, well, not always, but when he realized he was in love with him… That was another story. 

       He felt like he was walking on air when he realized it. He realized how lucky he was to have him in his life and how happy he made him.

       He even started flirting with him, to no avail but he still did.

       And it felt right. One day he would get the courage to ask him out. 

        But before that day came… the worst day of his life came. 

       He got a boyfriend.

       A boyfriend that wasn’t Todd.

       And ever since then it’s been “Brett this, Brett that,” and he wanted to punch that bastard right in the nose!

       … But he made Dirk happy. And so Todd was happy if he was happy.

       Scratch that. Todd was very unhappy. 

       He wanted to die every time Brett kissed Dirk, he wanted to cry every time he saw them holding hands, he wanted to punch the wall when he heard the exchange of pet-names, he wanted to scream every time smiled at his phone after getting a text from him.

       He was miserable. He had gone from being depressed before Dirk to being the happiest in his life to being happier to being even more depressed and it was horrible.

        So yes, he thought about this every night. What made this night worse than the other nights, what made this night “nights like these”?

       It was date night. 

       The night of the week where he wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. 

       So he did. 

       And he sobbed.

        And to make matters worse, his episodes have always been more emotionally fueled so “date night” was always a reliable alarm clock for his body to betray him. 

       And to make matters even worse, it was their one month anniversary, and Dirk was all excited about their big date.

       So he had to buckle up for a long, sleepless, painful, night.

        And his first attack of the night was over.

       He sat on the bathroom floor, huddled in the corner between the sink cabinet and the wall, shaking violently as his post-attack nerves calmed down. Breathing heavily as tears streamed down his hot face, head whirring.

       And it was only 10:00.

        It was only 10:00 when he heard a knock on his door. 

        Stumbling, he stood up and wiped his eyes on his flannel sleeve as he approached the door.

       And he was ready to kill a bitch when he saw who was on the other side of the door, sobbing.

       “Oh my god, Dirk what happened? Are you ok?” 

       He flung himself into Todd’s arms. “He pulled a Warner, Todd,” he choked between tears.

       “He pulled a what?” Todd stood flabbergasted, not quite sure on whether or not he should return the hug, but then he did, Dirk needed him.

       “Like that musical, Pink Lawyer.”

       “Oh, you mean Legally Blonde? And that was a movie before it was a musical.”

       “But I like the musical better. I like the song 'Gay or European', it's like a song about me.”

       “Whatever you say, Dirk. What happened, what do you mean he pulled a Warner?” And then it hit him, “Oh my god, he didn’t!”

       “Mmhmm,” Dirk gave a sad, affirmative hum and nodded into Todd’s shoulder.

       “On your anniversary?! THAT DICK!”

       Dirk laughed slightly.

       “What-” Todd wasn’t good at this, in fact, he was very bad at this. “What do you need?”

       Dirk pulled back and looked at Todd confused. His eyes red, swollen, and glossy. He hated seeing him like this. He wanted to hold him until the end of time and make sure he was never upset again. The things he was going to say to Brett- but he needed to focus on Dirk right now.

       “I mean, you came to me for a reason, right? What do you need?”

       He stood silent for a moment, not really understanding the question. In all honesty, his brain couldn’t process much at the moment. “Right, why I’m here, um, yes! I-” he sighed, “I don’t know. Universe said I should come here.”

       Damn you universe,  Todd thought. 

       “Ok.” His mind shuffled around the possible answers to this. In the past he would have made some flirty joke like, “oh, the universe wanted you to be here, huh?” or something or other but he wasn’t past Todd. He was present Todd and he would be there for Dirk. And he doubted the universe actually wanted that to be honest. He would always just be friends with Dirk. Hopelessly and endlessly. “Come in then, want to talk?”

       “Maybe,” he sniffed as he walked in. “I don’t know. I just want to be here.” He paused for a moment. “Do you have any tea?”

       Todd smiled, “Always.” He walked over to the kitchenette and dug through the pantries as Dirk sat down. “What type?”

       Dirk beamed, “You have more than one type? You don’t even like tea.”

       Todd had started keeping tea around in case of situations like these. Not break-ups specifically, he hadn’t planned for those, but any situation where Dirk needed some comfort. And he didn’t know what Dirk preferred so he just bought a lot of different types.

       “Yeah, what type?”

       “I don’t know. Do you have lemon? Sour tea to fit my sour mood.” He sunk into the sofa. 

       “Don’t be like that, Dirk.” He heated up a mug of water in the microwave, receiving a wince from Dirk but he was just happy Todd was trying. “I’m assuming you want milk and sugar in it?”

       “Yes, please.” Todd chuckled. 

       He put the teabag in the mug and grabbed the milk carton, a spoon, and the sugar and clumsily carried it all back to the couch. 

       “Thank you, Todd.” He smiled through his pooling grey-blue eyes.

       They sat like that for a while. Staring at the wall. A million thoughts flooding through their heads.

       The main one in Todd’s head? He was going to fucking kill Brett. He should have fucking known, with a name like Brett. And his stupid books, and his stupid sweater vests, and his stupid perfect hair, and his stupid collection of snobby tea. Now that he thinks about it he was really perfect for Dirk, Dirk didn’t want some punk-reject. He wanted an elegant refined man, not a scrumpy hobbit asshole of a man. NO! Brett was a dick. An absolute dick and he hurt Dirk. No one hurts Dirk on Todd’s watch. Not unless they want to get killed. 

       It wasn’t like he couldn’t do it. He could blame it on a holistic situation next case. Yes, brilliant. He would find some way to drag him into it push him into the danger. It was perfect, foolproof, and oh my fucking god was he really plotting a murder right now? He needed to focus on Dirk. Who had just started crying again, oh god he was bad at this. 

       Todd looked over to him. He sat rigidly. The warm mug in his hands, somewhat of a grounding stim, his head tucked into his chest as his tears fell. 

       He cleared his throat and nervously spoke up. “Need to talk about it? Sometimes venting helps.”

       Dirk bit his lip and wordlessly nodded before turning to Todd.

       “It was a stupid reason, really,” he sniffled.

       “Any reason to break up with someone as amazing as you is stupid in my books.” Dirk smiled. Smiling was good.

       “No. There are plenty of good reasons. I’m annoying, I talk too much, I’m dangerous, I’m an idiotic fool-”

       “Stop with all the negative talk,” Todd said sternly.

       “But it really was a stupidly stupid reason. I… I was telling him the story of our cases-”

       “Ooo which one?”

       “The Coconut Caper.” He set the mug down on the coffee table with the rest of the stuff Todd had brought out.

       “That was a fun one,” They laughed for a moment reminiscing on it. The Coconut Caper was one of their more… well… heated cases. There was a lot of tension there on both their parts, but both of them only recognized his own feelings and was completely oblivious as to the other’s.

       “So I was telling him the story and out of nowhere, he got mad! He said… he said he was tired of hearing about you.”

       What?

       “That it’s always ‘Todd, this and Todd, that’ and he was sick of it. And- and,” he stuttered to get the words out. “And said he was sick of it, and that it was all I ever talked about and- and,” He fell into Todd’s shoulder, covering his face with his hands. Regretting what he was about to say before he even said it, but Todd asked so he would say it. He would play it off as if it wasn’t true. “He said he thought I was in love with you… and then he dumped me!”

       A question burned into the back of Todd’s mind. A question he knew he shouldn’t ask for fear of losing everything, and pushing Dirk farther than he needed tonight... But the question remained, it refused to leave. It wasn’t going to go away unless he asked. 

       So Todd made the rash decision to ask said question, a decision he knew as the sentence formed out of his mouth he would later regret as he already knew the answer but something told him he didn’t know the full truth. He needed the full truth. He needed all of it. 

       And so he asked the question.

       “Dirk, do you love me?” His voice shook like the after-shock in a house seated across the street from a quarry. His face burning hot, his own eyes filling with salty betrayal. 

       “Uh-buh-buh-buh,” He sat up abruptly, straightening himself out, his mouth flapped like a fish. “What an odd question, Todd.” Dirk sat back up with a very bad look of hiding the truth. Todd almost let the corners of his mouth upturn. He thought he knew the answer, and he thought it might be the one he wanted after all of this time. 

       “Dirk, answer the question.” His voice slowly losing its tough persona.

       “You see, it’s a very complex answer, that question, Todd.”

       “Answer the goddamn question!”

       “Ok fine. You want the truth? Here’s the truth! I’m in love with you... I always have been but I know you don’t love me and so that’s why I started dating Brett.” 

       “Dirk-” His voice even softer now, a pang in his chest, heartbreaking at the thought of Dirk not knowing and feeling the way he did, knowing Dirk felt all of the pain Todd did.

       “LET ME FINISH. I thought if I dated someone else I would forget about you and stop loving you but the truth is I can’t.” He started crying, again. “I can’t forget you. I can’t, Todd. I’m sorry-”

       “Dirk-” More insistent.

       “SHUT UP FOR ONE BLOODY FUCKING MINUTE AND LET ME FUCKING GET THIS OVER WITH BECAUSE THIS IS FUCKING HARD!” Woah. He shouted at the top of his lungs before returning to normal, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Half apologizing for freaking out and half apologizing for his feelings. “I am. I can’t help it, I can’t help that I love you but I do.”

       He sped up almost incoherently, vomiting out words, not caring if he was repeating himself or saying things that didn’t make sense. Let him choose his words and tone for this ok? Like he said, this was hard. “Just promise me, promise me you won’t leave because I don’t think I could take it because honestly you saved my life in so many ways not only physical and I couldn’t bear if you left so promise me you won't leave and I don’t care if you aren’t my best friend anymore just don’t drop off the face of the earth and promise me-”

       “Dirk-”

       “SHUT UP, TODD.”

       “I LOVE YOU!”

        Dirk jolted back, not quite sure if he heard Todd right. If his mind was playing tricks on him, if Todd was playing tricks on him.

       “Oh, now you’re just being cruel.” His voice accusatory.

       “No, I do!” His voice defensive.

       “You’re just saying that to shut me up. Because I’m annoying and stupid and-”

       “What did I say about saying that about yourself?” 

       “Not to.” He pouted, “But you don’t. I think I would have figured that out by now.”

       “I didn’t figure it out”

       “Yes, but you’re just saying that. How do I know you love me?”

       Todd smiled. The first time he smiled that night. 

        “Because I do. Because you changed me. You made me a better person. And my life was boring before I knew you. And it sucked. And I know that doesn’t mean much but this does. And I wish you could see yourself like I do. The amazing, kind, wonderfully-crazy, funny and, not going to lie, sexy man you are.” Dirk chuckled and hid his face. “I want you to know that you make my life better. You give me a meaning and purpose I didn’t have before. You make me happy, Dirk. You make me so happy. And I hope that’s enough for you to know that I do love you and I’m not just ‘saying it’.”

        “I’m sorry, Todd.” He looked up, holding back more tears. This was a night very much filled with tears.

       Todd shook his head confused, “For what?”

       “For yelling, and assuming you were lying.”

       “Nah, I get it. I’m an asshole. I wouldn’t believe me either.”

       “Ok, if I’m not allowed to say I’m stupid and annoying you  definitely  aren’t allowed to call yourself an asshole. We both know how I feel about you calling yourself that.”

       “Ok, how about dickhead?” He laughed and Dirk playfully shoved him. 

       “That might be worse.”

       All of the anxiety was slowly wearing off, and it left them in a quiet moment. 

       A very quiet moment.

       Too quiet.

       They stared at each other, smiling. Heat rising to their faces, ok maybe they were just too angry and sad to notice it earlier but they were both made suddenly aware of their red faces. 

       “God, this is awkward,” Dirk mumbled as he twiddled with his thumbs. 

       “Yep,” Todd replied.

       Silent again. 

       How did they manage that?

       And then Dirk realized something. 

       Something big.

       His eyes widened and Todd immediately recognized the expression. Dirk had figured something out. Something holistic.

       And before Todd had any time to respond. Any time to process…

        Dirk’s mouth was on his.

        He leapt forward, not thinking, much like he did with everything in his life. He never thought. Ever. It was quite relaxing actually. 

       Unaware of his brute force, that combined with Todd’s shock had sent them spiraling backwards into the couch. Todd’s eyes wide.

       And all he could think, well, no, he couldn’t think. All he could  feel  was, “Oh my god this is actually happening! Is this happening? It better be fucking happening, and holy shit his lips are soft- ” Soft despite the fact that the kiss was awkwardly aggressive and very quick. It all happened in about a second. One second before Dirk realized what he had done.

       He pulled back extremely suddenly, but still hovering over Todd as the couch swallowed him whole, cheeks fire-engine red, spilling out his words in a perfectly Dirk-y way. 

       “Oh-my-god-I’m-so-sorry-I-didn't-ask-first-and-I-didn't-think-and-I-just-did-and-did-I-just-mess-up-did-I-misjudge-the-situation-I’m-so-stupid-and-oh-no-am-I-squishing-you?!”

       And Todd just smiled and grabbed the sides of his jacket, pulling his face back down to his, and he kissed him. This time properly. 

       And Dirk melted at the touch. This was nothing like kissing Brett, this felt right, safe, home. Like the entire universe had been preparing for this moment. 

       It started soft and slow, meant to show Dirk how much he meant everything he said, how much he loved him. And then he started to realize that it was finally happening, and he hungered for more, and Dirk obliged, sending their kiss deeper and deeper. Fully enveloping themselves in each other, in this perfect kiss, this perfect moment. This moment where everything was as it was supposed to be for once. 

       All they could think of was each other and how for the love of God had they not done this sooner.

       Breathless, Todd pulled back and moved his arms around Dirk’s neck, and looked fondly into his eyes.

       “I-I think… I think I know why the universe wanted me to come here.” Dirk breathed with a wide smile brandishing his swollen, pink lips.

       Todd laughed, “You think?”

[confused-android]

Day 3, Farah - Gore tw: blood, violence, mentions or torture, messy death -----------------

"Here! Turn here!" Dirk gestures wildly to the cross street that they've almost passed, and Farah yanks on the steering wheel, pulling a screech from the wheels and a honk from the car behind them as they barely avoid a parked moped and make the turn. She takes a moment to stabilize the car, then hits the gas again, tearing west.

"Can you warn me sooner than that next time?" she growls, shooting a glare towards Dirk.

"I'm sorry, it doesn't work like that!" he reminds her, frantic and fluttering. His hands are constantly moving, from pressed between his thighs, to clasped in front of his chest, to scrubbing through his hair, to unlocking and relocking his phone.

Farah sighs, aggrieved, but knows that he's right, that he's doing the best he can. "Just let me know when we're close," she says, and he bobs his chin.

It's another ten minutes before Dirk gasps, and he grabs her wrist. "We're almost there," he says, confident and miserable. "I think it's somewhere up there." He gestures towards an industrial park on the left, crowded with office buildings and warehouses, oppressively grey. Farah shakes his hand off and slows the car, then turns into the entrance.

"Don't say a thing," she mutters, and rolls down her window as they roll up to the guard booth. "Hi," she says, as charmingly as she can manage with her fingers tapping anxiously on her lap, just out of view. "I have a meeting in building, uh, C?"

"Who with?" comes the bored reply.

Don't look nervous, look normal, speak normally. He has no reason to suspect you, just don't fuck up, don't fuck up and you'll get through.

"Mister, um, Stanford? He's new," Farah adds, inspired, as the guard flips through a clipboard. "He said he didn't know if you'd have his name listed yet."

The guard grimaces and checks through a stack of papers, then shakes his head. "He's right, this list is from three weeks ago. Let him know to call the security office tomorrow morning to bug them, because I really shouldn't be letting folks through after hours without a pass."

"I'll let him know," Farah promises, and the guard grunts and waves them through.

"That was brilliant," Dirk says. "Now, I think we need to be, er, that way?" He sounds unsure, but she follows his pointing finger through a left turn and a right turn, and around a small circular park. "We're close," he says.

Farah slows down again and coasts past the next few buildings until Dirk shivers and points at a small office building. "This one," he nearly whispers. Farah nods and drives past it, and continues on until they come to a larger parking lot, still half-full of cars. She parks in a cluster of sensible sedans, then turns the car off and twists to look at Dirk. He's hunched in on himself, and he looks wretched.

"Hey, come on," Farah says, trying to inject a core of confidence that she doesn't feel. "We're really close. This time yesterday, we didn't even know if he was still in Seattle."

"Farah, those guys were terrifying," Dirk responds, clutching at his hair. "They killed the Parkers, and the florist's assistant is going to be in the hospital for weeks. I don't feel particularly confident that Todd is safe and sound in there."

"We won't know how he is until we find him," she says, but there's a quaver to her voice that she can't suppress.

The Parkers were tortured for hours, they died screaming, there was blood everywhere, and Todd is no professional hit-man. He's soft, he's weak, he tries so hard but he wasn't trained for this. I should have been the one to check out the florist, how could I have sent him in, this is all my fault and now he's probably dead, and I did it.

They exit the car in silence and she reassures herself by checking to make sure all of her weapons are in place, are holstered correctly, are ready to go. Dirk doesn't generally carry any weapons, but she bullies him into slipping a knife holster around his calf, grateful that today's trousers aren't quite as tight as he usually prefers. And then there's no reason to hold back any longer, and they walk past two small warehouses and end up at the front door of the office Dirk had indicated. The lights are off and there's no sign that anyone is in, but the front door opens without issue when Farah tugs the handle. And then they're in.

The lobby is small and practical, dimly lit by the late afternoon light coming through the glass doors. There's no sign of anyone on the first floor, but they can faintly hear voices coming from above them. Farah and Dirk exchange a silent look, and Farah pulls the handgun from her shoulder holster, signals for Dirk to stay behind her, and proceeds up the stairs.

The voices grow louder as they creep towards the second floor, and they stop one turn from the top, straining to hear what's being said.

"…not talking," a deep voice spits out. "We have no idea why those kids were in the house."

"He says it was a coincidence," replies another voice, deeply unimpressed. "But Ingrid will be here soon, and we'll know more."

The conversation fades out as the two speakers step farther from the open doorway to the stairs, and Dirk and Farah press on, stepping as quietly as they can. Farah peeks through the open door to see one man disappear around a corner, down a short hallway. She gestures for Dirk to follow and leads him carefully down the hall in the opposite direction from the man, until they're out of sight. Leaning close to Dirk, her breath ghosting across his ear, she whispers, "if this office is laid out the way that I think it should be, we can come around to the room that they're in through a second hallway, and we shouldn't be spotted." Dirk nods, looking somewhat faint, and presses closely behind her as they turn two corners and walk carefully towards where they hope Todd is.

Stay quiet. You know what you're doing. Just protect Dirk, don't let Dirk get hurt, and find Todd. You can find Todd, please don't let him be dead, please let him be okay, and protect Dirk and find Todd.

The office is dark and quiet, illumination fading as the sun goes down and leaves the windows cold, and they creep closer and closer to the far end of the office building. They don't hear any voices, and Farah allows herself to feel somewhat confident that they might make it to Todd without being spotted. Then Dirk whispers, "Farah!"

"Shh," she breathes, not looking back at him. Two more doorways before the next intersection, and there's a dim light glowing from around the corner.

"Farah!" he hisses again, slightly more frantically, and she spins around in irritation, ready to scold him as silently as possible –

– only there's a huge man with a ferocious scowl holding a gun to Dirk's head, and Farah freezes, then holds her hands over her head.

"Shit," she swears, and Dirk grimaces guiltily.

"You do anything stupid, I shoot Mister Dumbass here," the man promises her, and she nods frantically.

"You got it. Nothing stupid."

"Gun down," he grunts, and she bends down slowly, carefully, and sets the gun on the floor of the hallway. "Now, walk that way." He jerks his chin the direction they were already walking and Farah nervously sidles down the corridor, trying her best to keep an eye on both Dirk and where she's walking. The man makes Dirk pick up her gun and hand it to him when they pass the spot where she'd set it down, and then they turn the corner and enter a large boardroom.

There are no windows and no tables, but Todd is tied to a solid wooden chair, and he's hanging limply from his bonds.

"Todd!" Dirk and Farah cry, and then Dirk whimpers as the gun not-so-gently knocks into his temple, and Farah freezes again. "Shut up," the man growls, and directs them both to stand against the closest wall.

"Who's this?" comes a third voice, and a man and a woman stroll almost casually into the room behind them. All three are wearing body armor and thick, practical pants, and they do not look friendly.

"Hi," Dirk says bravely. "I'm Dirk Gently. And you, er, you seem to have taken my assistant." He gestures weakly towards Todd, who isn't stirring. He's also sluggishly oozing blood from a wound on his shoulder, and it's staining the top half of his shirt. Farah can't tell for sure, as his face is turned away from them, but it looks like he might have a fat lip and a black eye.

The woman ignores Dirk and gestures towards Farah. "Stephen, search her. Mark, shoot him if she does anything stupid." The first man keeps his gun trained on Dirk, a warning look in his eye, while the second man thoroughly pats her down, lingering on her breasts and thighs, and runs his fingers roughly through her hair. She barely manages to avoid screaming at him, but the gun pointed at Dirk doesn't waver, and so she says nothing. Stephen relieves her of her taser, three knives, and her new brass knuckles, and drops them in a pile just outside the door, then takes her gun from Mark, removes the magazine, and tosses all of that on top of the other weapons as well.

"What are you doing here?" Stephen asks finally stepping away from Dirk and lowering the gun. Dirk lets out a gusty sigh and sags against the wall, the expression of terror on his face not letting up in the slightest.

"Looking for him!" Farah says. "Why did you kidnap Todd?"

"Why was Todd in the flower shop after hours?" the woman counters. "What do you know about us?"

"We don't know anything," Dirk assures her. "We can continue to know nothing, if you'd like. In fact, if you'll let us take Todd and go, I can guarantee you that we will aggressively pursue not-knowing anything for an indefinite period of time. Forever!"

Both men look at the woman, and Mark says, "Ingrid?"

"Oh, that's not happening," she replies, waving one hand dismissively. "We're going to kill him - he knows too much. The only question is, do we do it quickly, or do we make you watch us hurt him?"

"You can't do that!" Dirk bursts out, and Farah elbows him in the ribs.

"I think you'll find that we can do anything we want," Ingrid replies, and both men snigger. "And I assure you, we are very good at hurting people." Dirk whimpers, and then all three of them laugh coldly.

"It's especially easy to hurt your friend, here," Stephen says, a nasty smirk coming to his face. "We don't even have to rough him up that bad."

"Though we did," Mark interjects, and Stephen nods.

"Oh, we did. But I barely give him a poke an' he started screaming."

"Screaming something awful," Mark agrees.

"Asking for his pills, saying he was on fire..." Stephen shakes his head and grins. "I've never gotten to play with anyone who was on fire before, so that was fun."

Farah can feel herself grow cold with rage, and her fingers twitch, desperate for some kind of weapon. She can see by their stances that none of the three are ready for sudden violence, that they're more of the slow-torture type, and she knows that if she had anything - hell, even a knife - that she could take them down. She knows it. But she has nothing.

Fuck, I'm so stupid. How could I have let them catch us? I have nothing. I can't do anything. They're going to hurt Todd and they're going to kill him. They'll probably kill Dirk too, and there's nothing I can do about it. Fuck.

She knows that her face is crumpling, that she looks as desperate as she feels, and that she can't do anything.

And then Todd stirs. The room falls silent for a moment, Farah and Dirk terrified and Ingrid, Stephen, and Mark amused, as he groans weakly, then coughs, then winces at the movement.

"Todd!" Dirk blurts, and Todd jerks as if stung, pulls himself upright with a heartbreaking amount of effort.

"Dirk?" he whispers, and then he takes in the tableau in front of him, and his eyes widen in horror. "Oh fuck. Farah. Dirk. Oh no, oh no, fuck, no." He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, like he can dispel what he's seeing. He opens them again, hesitantly, then whimpers when they still stand before him.

"We're here for you," Dirk says, trying to be reassuring, but Ingrid snorts behind him, and ruins the effect.

"Yeah, Todd," she says in a sing-song voice. "They're here for you. And now you get to watch them feel everything you've felt over the last two days."

"Except the being on fire," Stephen adds, and Mark shrugs.

"I mean, we can make that happen, too." He and Stephen share a nasty grin, and Todd moans and slumps sideways again; the movement sets the wound on his shoulder to bleeding actively again, and Farah can see a trail of finger-shaped bruises marching down his throat.

"Why are you doing this?" she asks, trying to buy time, to find answers, to understand what's going on - anything, but Ingrid scoffs and shakes her head.

"What do you think this is, a Bond monologue? Shut up and get down." She gestures to the corner of the room furthest from the door, and Dirk and Farah edge towards the wall, then sink to the floor when prompted. "Stay there," they're told, and then all three of their captors huddle up just outside the door and begin speaking in low voices.

"I'm sorry, Todd," Farah says miserably. "This was supposed to be a rescue mission."

"We'll get you out, though," Dirk says, trying for earnestness, and Todd and Farah exchange a glance.

"Farah," Todd says, ignoring him. "You have to get Dirk out."

"I'm not -- I'm not leaving you behind," she hisses, but the desperate voice in her head whispers, he's tied down, you can't move him quickly, he might not be able to walk. You have to get Dirk out, Dirk is the only one who can explain all of this to the police, Dirk is the one with psychic powers, and Todd can't move.

Todd can see the gears in her head turning, and he nods bitterly. "Good," he says. "I don't know how you're going to do it, but you're going to do it."

"Farah," Dirk tries, and she shakes her head, rubbing one hand over her mouth and rocking back and forth while she thinks. No weapons, no weapons, three of them, one of me. I can take one, no problem, maybe two. How can we distract one of them, how can I get Dirk out, even if I'm stuck here, I have to take down at least two, I have to take down all three, but no weapons.

"Farah," Dirk says again, knocking his leg against hers, and she looks up at him in irritation, ready to hiss at him for silence, she needs to think, and then she realizes that the spot he's knocked her with feels surprisingly solid. Feel like –

– Dirk nods, a pleased glint hiding under the weary terror in his eyes, and Farah's eyes widen. She shoots a sideways look at the door, where their captors are still outside, barely looking in at the three of them, and she slowly scoots in front of Dirk's leg, reaches behind her to carefully, gently pull the knife out of the sheath on his calf.

It's a good knife –  it has a comfortable grip suited for her hands, and one serrated edge – and she wraps her fingers around it with solid, practiced assurance.

This, she thinks, this I can do.

They sit there in silence for another long minute, then two, and then all three of the body armored criminals come back into the room, spread out along the far wall, and look consideringly at the huddle of pathos on the floor across the room. Farah also noticed that none of them have their guns drawn, and she stifles the satisfied smirk that wants to creep onto her face.

"Stand up," Ingrid says, and Dirk and Farah clamber to their feet. "Now come here." She points to the ground in front of her, like she's training a dog, and Farah takes a large step forward, gestures at Dirk to stay back.

"Please let Dirk and Todd go," she says, trying to sound brave, but feeling a tremble in her throat catch the sound. "You can have me, just please let them go."

"Of course we can have you," Ingrid says, surprised into a laugh. "You're in no position to bargain, missy. We have all three of you, and we're going to kill you, too. You just get to decide how much it hurts. Now, come here." Farah steps forward again, and allows desperation to slide on to her face.

"Please," she tries, and steps forward one more time, tears threatening to fall. Ingrid turns to both men, an awful laugh welling up, and then Farah pulls the knife from behind her back and plunges it behind Ingrid's collarbone, just above the top of her body armor.

Ingrid's laugh twists to a scream as Farah yanks the knife back towards her shoulder, then out, and Ingrid staggers backwards, clutching a hand to the fountain of blood that's suddenly pouring down her front.

"Untie Todd," Farah snaps back at Dirk, and launches herself towards Stephen, whose face is contorted with rage as he slaps for the handle of his gun. She gets about one foot away from him, then smashes her forehead into his nose; he bellows with rage and abandons the gun to grab her neck and hair. Farah shouts in pain, but grimaces with satisfaction as both of Stephen's hands are occupied with distinctly non-explosive forms of causing harm. She shoves the tip of the knife into his lower stomach, just below the bottom of his vest, and pushes.

He shrieks, an awful, bubbling sound, and his hands tighten on her throat. Farah can feel the blood rushing in her ears, but she keeps her grip on the handle and keeps shoving the knife deeper, twisting the tip deep within in his abdomen, and then she messily guts him. It's awful, and the stench of blood fills her nose as his grasping hands spasm on her neck, and then he drops to the floor, spilling himself all over her boots. She barely has a second to gasp in a ragged breath before she hears an enraged scream and is reminded of the third person she has to face.

"You bitch," Mark spits, and she twists around to face him. He has no gun, thankfully, but is clutching a long knife of his own, and his face is purpling with rage.

From the corner of her eye, Farah can see Dirk picking at the ropes behind Todd's back, but it's taking far too long to hope for any kind of back-up there (if it would even be helpful).

You've got this. This is your whole deal. This is what you're good at.

She scuffs both shoes on the floor, making sure that the slick of blood hasn't affected her traction, and then she rushes at Mark, eyes locked on the knife he raises above his head. She gets close enough that he begins to lunge at her, and then she throws herself down to her knees and stabs up, and a gush of blood from his inner thigh sprays her face as she pulls his now staggering body to the floor. He hits the ground with a grunt, and he tries to twist onto his back, is still holding his knife aimed at her.

"You're already dead," she spits, wiping the blood from her mouth on one sleeve, and takes a step back from his gasping body.

Stephen is curled around his ruined stomach, torso limp and wet, but Ingrid and Mark are still groaning and shaking, hands desperately trying to stem the flow of blood slowly creeping across the boardroom floor. Farah stands in front of them, chest heaving, and contemplates leaving them to bleed out over long, agonizing minutes.

"Please," Ingrid gurgles, and Farah glares down at her, ugly and cold.

"No," she says. Blood is dripping off her fingers, from the tip of her knife, and she can feel it oozing down the back of her neck, and she is calm. "You get nothing."

She turns to look at Dirk and Todd, both now standing (though Todd is leaning heavily on Dirk, and he's pale with pain), and nods her chin towards the door. "Let's go," she says. She feels like ice, and there's no narrative echoing in her head, and she leads Todd and Dirk past the spasming bodies and out the door.

------------

Link to: day one, Farah - Youth day two, Farah - Dance

[casual-eumetazoa]

and boring, *boring* sex

Rule number one of living with your best friend: never walk into their bedroom without knocking first…

*

Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency is a very special kind of workplace. First of all, it is hardly a workplace to begin with; almost six months after getting an office, and they have spent less than a week worth of days combined inside of it. Second, you couldn’t quite call it “work” either. It’s not that the employees are lazy or idle - things are still happening, tasks are getting done - but would you qualify them as work? I don’t think so.

Naturally, workplace laws (and occasionally the laws of physics as well) do not apply to this particular agency. Walls can change colours, and chairs can become Mona at any minute. Cases can start unexpectedly, in the middle of the night, unbeknown to everyone, including the client. And detectives can be disturbed offensively early in the morning, and right in the middle of somewhat important and distinctly private activities…

*

-Ugh. - First wakes up Todd, then wakes up Todd’s brain.

He reaches blindly for his phone and fumbles under the pillow, grasping at the sheets and candy bar wrappers. The phone stops ringing the second his fingers close around its plastic surface.

-Fuck. - He mumbles, opening one eye just enough to see the screen.

A missed call from Farah. Farah, who hates mornings, and hates phone calls, and knows better than to bother him like this at 6:25AM on a Saturday. He realizes that something strange and interesting and case-y must have happened before he hears her voice on the other end.

Five minutes later, and he is already walking across the corridor, barefoot and wearing just the t-shirt and the underwear he slept in, excited and eager to share the news with his roommate/best friend/boss. This early into a weekend (and a new adventure), Todd is not thinking much before he acts. Knocking doesn’t even occur to him when approaching the door of Dirk’s bedroom. He simply opens it in one not-so-swift motion and barges in.

-Dirk, some really weird shit has happened in… - Todd starts, then closes his mouth mid-sentence.

Dirk is awake. He was awake before Todd came in, that much is obvious. He is in his bed, and the soft golden rays of dawn are breaching through the curtains and highlighting his figure. His feet and ankles sticking from under the thin white blanket. His neck, collarbones, and chest, bare and exposed. His face, blank and slowly turning a subtle shade of pink. And his right arm, hidden from view by the blanket…

-Oh. - Todd says.

It is all Todd can say at the moment. Having lived for two years in a college dorm, he doesn’t need any more context to grasp the situation. Now, he should leave. Now, he should apologize and step out and pretend like he didn’t see a thing.

But Todd is not doing any of that.

And he has no idea why.

-I should have knocked. - He says instead.

-You really maybe should have considered that, Todd. - Dirk replies.

Despite wanting nothing more than to look away and stare at the ceiling, Todd finds himself locking gazes with Dirk. It doesn’t help.

-You should have locked the door, perhaps. - Todd continues.

-I possibly could have had done it, yes. - Dirk agrees. - But I evidently have not. And you most definitely did not knock either.

-Yes. I understand. - Todd replies.

He doesn’t understand anything, least of all why he is not currently in the process of getting the hell out of Dirk’s bedroom.

-So. - Dirk says, his right hand now out of the blanket and resting on top his raised knee. - Do you have a plan for how we are going to progress out of this situation?

 Todd is looking at Dirk’s hand, and at his fabric-covered knee. Todd cannot help but look at it, cannot force himself to take his eyes off that hand. Cannot stop thinking about what that hand was doing just now. And he doesn’t have a plan. It is rather normal for him to not have a plan, but right now he does not have a plan especially.

A minute passes by in silence.

-Todd? - Dirk asks, now increasingly confused (yet strangely just as aroused).

Their eyes meet again, and this time, there is something in that look, something fiery and intense and exciting and… mutual? Dirk’s ability to read from intonations and expressions and Looks is rather limited but in that instant he is almost sure that they are speaking the same language, communicating the same thought, the same desire.

He is feeling quite brave on that fine Saturday morning. He gives Todd just a few more seconds to leave or say something before he will test his hypothesis. Secretly, he almost wishes for Todd to turn around and walk away immediately. That would be simple. That would be safe… but Todd does not leave.

Todd - brilliant, wonderful, handsome Todd - is still standing there, motionless, and watching Dirk’s right hand.

And Dirk cannot disappoint, so he gives him something to watch.

 Todd makes one and a half step forward and leans back against the wall. He hasn’t a clue what he is to do next. After all, he has never been present for another man jerking off. He has also never felt attracted to a man before. Not once not ever. Or, maybe he has, maybe more than once, many more than once, but has not admitted it to himself, has not registered it as attraction. Has not dared.

It could have been easy to deny in the past but not today. Not this time. Not now that he is about a meter away from Dirk’s bed, from Dirk’s hand as he strokes himself, eyes closed, lips parted slightly, seemingly enjoying the act of being observed. It goes on for a few minutes. While Todd stays still, paralyzed by all the emotions currently flooding his conscious mind like a tsunami, Dirk is starting to get into the rhythm of his own private show.

He stops for a moment and grasps the edge of the blanket, watching Todd’s face for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. There are none. So, Dirk begins to pull the blanket down, dragging its edge across his stomach, revealing, slowly, first the outline of his hips, the skin of his thighs, and, not without a tiniest of gasps from the sensation of fabric brushing against it, his erection.

Todd is transfixed. He barely feels his face flush with colour as his shoulders slump and he slides ever so slightly down the wall. Dirk adjusts positions, giving him an even better view. He sits up and spreads apart his legs. His eyes are open, gaze wondering around (mostly on Todd’s slouching figure) as his hand continues to slide up and down his dick, fingers grasping firmly, speeding up then slowing down again, teasing the sensitive skin on top then going back to the base. Todd is not sure how much of that is just for him to see. He doesn’t care.

He does notice when Dirk’s eyes stop wandering and settle on one point. Todd looks down and realized immediately what caught Dirk’s attention. He is hard too. The thin layer of his boxer briefs is stretched across his skin, almost snug enough to bother him. Dirk pauses once more. This warrants a response. He wants to say something at first, then changes his mind and, looking directly at Todd, shifts to the right, freeing enough space on the bed for another person.

The gesture is registered and processed. Todd hesitates. He wants this, wants so badly to get rid of his clothes and touch himself… the erection close to hurts, demanding action. Can he do is? Is he… allowed to do this? He figures the moment is crazy enough as is, and there’s no going back anyway, right? So he takes the seat. Takes the seat so, so close to Dirk, and slides his thumbs under the rubber band of his underwear, and pulls it down to his ankles.

Everything that happens then is a bit of a blur for Todd. He watches Dirk reach towards him, feels the hot skin of Dirk’s hand, nods as some cool, slick gel is dispensed on his palm.

They sit just a few centimeters apart at first, each touching themselves. Neither is sure how it happens, but soon the gap between their bodies is closed. Both are breathing heavily. Todd senses the warmth of Dirk’s thigh pressed to his own and that alone forces a moan to escape his lips. He glances to his right. The side of Dirk’s mouth goes up. He doesn’t know what is going on, but he is liking it. Very much.

 It is quite obvious how the situation must progress. They started off apart, and now Todd’s leg is resting on top of Dirk’s, Todd’s t-shirt is crumpled on the floor, and they are close enough to hear each other’s rapid heartbeats. The only way further, closer, is to take direct action.

The same thought occurs to them both at the same time. They stop, again, and lock gazes, again, and words are not necessary. Like zombies, thoughtless, all-consumed by attraction, they move towards each other, eyes blinking shut just a microsecond before their lips meet. The kiss is sloppy, hungry, fueled by months of repressed desire. Todd feels Dirk’s tongue in his mouth and fears he might pass out from the pleasure. How he could have not known that he wanted him so desperately?!

The kissing is enough only for a short while; soon the need for touch, for sensation, for closeness, wins, and they edge even nearer to each other. Wandering, exploring hands find their targets almost at once.

When Todd’s fingers brush and curl around him, the only words that come to Dirk’s mind are curses. He feels his hips move, thrusting slightly into Todd’s hand, while his own continues its strokes. Their motions are erratic, hasty, needy, but it hardly matters now. All that exists are the magical, electric waves of pleasure, stifled moans against each other’s lips and the soft warmth of another’s skin.

It doesn’t last long, and it also lasts forever. The sensation is overwhelming, so powerful it takes over completely and leaves them both breathless, hands moving fast, gasping, crying out every time another’s fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot. Both are on the edge in minutes. There is no stopping, no slowing down; just wanting more and more, until it is almost too much, until the euphoria almost hurts. Builds up in an instant, peaks, and spills over the edge.

Mere seconds after his own orgasm, Dirk senses hot, sticky liquid on his palm, feels Todd’s body shudder with bliss. Some time for catching their breath and coming back to reality, and they are staring at each other, speechless, as if they are only just realizing what has happened. Todd blinks and licks his lips. Here he is, naked, sitting next to his best friend, also naked, semen on his hands, semen on his friend’s hands… on the bedsheets as well…

-Shower? - Dirk says, and Todd is not sure whether that is a question, a suggestion, or a recommendation - but he nods in agreement.

*

Half an hour later, and they are drinking coffee together in the kitchen, fully clothed and relatively calm.

-So. - Dirk begins, dropping another sugar cube into his cup. - Should we talk about..?

-No. - Todd doesn’t let him finish. - Not right now.

-Reasonable. Agreed. - Dirk replies, then pauses. - Not at all talk about it or..?

-Not at all. - Todd gulps down coffee, which burns his tongue and throat. - I am not mentally prepared.

-Right. Sure. - Dirk taps his fingers on the coffee mug. - What were you going to tell me, before we, uh… - The sentence trails off.

-Oh. - Todd says. - Oh! The thing. - For a while, he was living in a world where cases and the detective agency did not exist. - There’s, uh, penguins? Missing from the zoo. And it looks like they organized an escape? I don’t know. - He shrugs. - Farah called and told me that.

-Penguins escaping from the zoo? - Dirk repeats. - Like in that cartoon where the animals get together on a ship to go have a holiday on a tropical island with cross-dressing rats?

-Cross-dressing… - Todd frowns. - Madagascar?

-Yes, that one.

 There is a pause. A long, long pause.

 -Yeah we should talk about it. - Todd gives up. – About the sex. – He adds. – Not about Madagascar.

* 

And so they do.

*

Talk about it, I mean.

*

But not before making out for long enough to let their coffee get cold.

[cosmicoceanfic]

This might not be of any interest but I know you've been catching up on Doctor Who lately- if you fancy it, how about something about Dirk and Thirteen meeting/being buds? I think they would just adore one another

post DW series 11, post DGHDA season two

Todd’s learned to get used to lots of things being friends with Dirk, but he’s come to assume there’s some form of nonsensical pattern to it. Some weird shit will happen, and then some weird shit will follow. He’s gotten pretty good at understanding the level of weirdness, too. They’ll be minding their own business, and suddenly a dog will come into the office and ask them if they have the time, on account of the fact they’re a dog, and don’t have a watch. That kind of weird shit.

Some weirdness, of course, just comes from Dirk, and his way of being. That’s usually vaguely predictable too, though. Dirk will tell them strange things that probably aren’t true, or he’ll only eat sandwiches cut into thirds on Tuesdays. It’s just the kinda thing you get used to.

It’s why Todd is ultimately not that surprised when he, Dirk, and Farah are walking down the street and Dirk sees someone walking on the opposite sidewalk, screams, and starts jumping up and down and waving. He is surprised, though, when that stranger starts jumping up and down and waving and screaming back. Usually if Dirk attracts someone’s attention, they stare at him like a crazy person, unless he asks if they’ve experienced accelerated strangeness or maybe their goat has gone missing, or maybe if they’re gained a goat, and then they’re usually a surprise client.

This person doesn’t seem like a client, though. This person is waving her arms wildly and dashing across the street as several cars honk at her, three people trailing behind her looking suitably embarrassed and awkward as they wave at the cars apologetically. She collides with Dirk in a hug.

“Oh, you’re huggy this time!” Dirk says cheerfully, leaning back a bit with the force of the hug. “Look at that!”

“Sorry, is that alright?” The woman pulls back, beaming. She’s English, Todd can tell that much. She’s got short blond hair, a long grayish silver coat, a blue shirt with stripes on it, and mustard yellow suspenders holding up blue pants. It is, admittedly, a lot less ridiculous outfit than Todd would’ve anticipated from someone that Dirk might be friends with. He realizes this reflects on him, too, and looks down at his own outfit in concern. “You are huggy, aren’t you? I feel like I remember being annoyed about that a few times before.”

“Yes, very much so!” He beams back. “Look at you! Love the ear cuff.”

“Thank you!” She flicks it. “You should get one. Love an ear cuff. I think I might’ve invented them on a few planets. Hey, how d’you think you always recognize me on sight, no matter the, y’know-“ she gestures down herself.

“Oh, you know.” He wibbles a hand back and forth. “This is a new one, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. Gender, you know how it is.” It’s her turn to wibble a hand back and forth. “Bit of a shot in the dark at the best of times. I like this one, though! Hair’s a nice color. Haven’t been blond since, oh, eight go rounds back or so? Not sure.”

Dirk nods sympathetically. “Math.”

She smiles at Todd and Farah. “Hullo, Todd, Farah, lovely to see you, as always.”

The three behind her wave and there’s a choruses of “hellos” and “alright, then?”.

“Hi…..?” Todd says uncertainly. Farah says nothing, but she squints at all of them in the way she does when she’s not sure what’s going on, and is assessing the situation to determine whether or not the situation calls for trouble.

Dirk perks up. “Oh, do we see you a few times this go round? That’s nice, you never know with you.”

The woman looks at Dirk. Then she looks at Farah. Then she looks back at Dirk. Then at Todd. Then, bizarrely, at Dirk’s hand resting at his side, and thenTodd’s hand resting at his side, and then the distance between them.

“Ah,” she says, eyes flicking up to Dirk. “Sorry. Timelines. Never know how it’s going to be. Are we meeting, then, am I doing introductions?” She wheels on Todd and Farah. “This is Graham, Ryan, and Yaz, I’m-“

“The Doctor,” Farah cuts in.

Todd stares. Dirk stares. The woman, who must be the Doctor, stares.

“Hi,” she says. “Sorry. Have I met you before? I don’t remember meeting you before I met you all at once, but-“

Farah shifts a little under the scrutiny, but lifts her chin. “The CIA, FBI, and MI6 all have lengthy files on the Doctor that I’ve been able to gain some access to.” She gives her a vaguely defiant look. “If we’re starting to deal with weird shit, I should be able to research weird shit.”

The Doctor does not look at all fazed. In fact, she looks thrilled. “Farah Black! You get more brilliant every time I see you, do I not say she’s brilliant, guys-“ she turns back to Graham, Ryan, and Yaz. “Don’t I talk about how brilliant Farah is?”

“Don’t think not meeting me yet’s gonna get you out of that four quid you owe me, mate,” Graham says, pointing at Todd. Ryan reaches out and gives him a light thwack on the arm. “What? He never paid me back, fair’s fair.”

“I don’t know what a quid is,” Todd says, nonplussed by this whole situation. “Sorry, are you time travelers? As a… habit?”

“To be fair.” Dirk turns to him. “We’re time travelers, Todd.”

“Yeah, but that was like… a one time thing. Past tense.”

“Ah,” the Doctor says. “Don’t expect that to last.”

“Oi.” Yaz walks up to her and giving her a sharp poke. “Aren’t you the one always going on about meddling-“

“Ow, no, listen, it’s fine, s’not that much, and Dirk’s used to it anyhow-“

Dirk nods. “It’s true. She’s very bad at keeping a secret. Do we time travel to anyplace interesting?”

The Doctor opens her mouth.

“Hey,” Ryan says.

“Better not, Doc,” Graham adds.

Yaz just gives her a poke again.

“Fuck,” Todd says, feeling a little out of depth. “So we’re gonna-“

“Oh, they let you say that one?” The Doctor looks disappointed. “I always want to say that one, but then these three yell at me if I ever get close.”

“S’weird,” Ryan says. “It’s like your nan swearing.”

Graham snorts. “Your nan swore fairly regularly, son, and more than once round you, if I recall.”

“Like someone’s nan swearing,” Ryan amends.

“What, nine hundred someodd years and I’ve never sworn before? I invented swearing on some planets, I’ll have you know.”

Yaz rolls her eyes. “You’re always saying you invented things on other planets and I think most of the time you’re taking the piss.”

“Nine hundred years of what?” Farah asks, looking distinctly unnerved.

“Oh, did you have a birthday I missed?” Dirk asks. “I mean, I assume I’ve missed quite a few, but still, I’ll have to get you something. Do you like jars with little bits of string in them? I’ve been collecting them.”

“Please,” Todd says, distracted from the fact they may have a thousand year old woman in their presence by the possibility of finally getting rid of the string jar. “God, take the string jar, he’ll just be shoving pieces of string in it in front of clients and it’s decreasing our credibility.”

“I love little bits of string,” the Doctor says fervently, and Todd can 100% believe her. “Hang on, though.” She leans in. “Are you guys solving a mystery?”

Dirk leans in, looking intrigued. “Not yet,” he says conspiratorially. “But that’s how life goes, isn’t it, one minute you’re not solving a mystery and the next you are. Why, are you solving a mystery?”

“I dunno, but we’ve got to be here for a reason.” She straightens, beaming. “Come on! Let’s wander around and see what happens to us, eh, if the two of us are in the same place at the time something odd’s bound to happen. Maybe we can get you an ear cuff along the way.”

“Oustanding idea.” Dirk pats her arm affectionately. Todd feels vaguely jealous, until it occurs to him that’s a stupid thing to be, and attempts to quash the feeling. “You’re so friendly this time.”

“Careful letting the Doc pick anything out for buying,” Graham tells him. “She’s never got a wallet on her.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I am extremely familiar with the Doctor’s propensity to travel like some outer space inner time hobo.”

The Doctor pulls a face. “Not extremely nice but accurate.” She gestures. “Come on, fam! Dirk’s fam!”

“I know we vetoed fam,” Ryan mutters.

“Yeah, I don’t like that, either,” Farah agrees.

“You never do!” She cheerfully leads the charge with Dirk, and the rest of them follow, because apparently this is their morning now. Todd sees her lean into him and whisper what she probably thinks is quietly. “He’s very nice, you know. I approve.”

Dirk, from what Todd can see, goes a little red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hisses back, a little tartly.

“Oof, you’re never any fun when you get all shirty. Say, do you have a fun hat? I’ve been thinking about giving hats a go again, although it will disguise the ear cuff, so maybe we’ll have to see.”

Thank you for this prompt, darlin! This was so much fun. It hit a sizable enough length that I may even post it to AO3.

prompts call and fandoms here! come keep me busy and sane during strange times

[actualbird]

and for this rec list for @dghdafeedbackfest​, it is time for the TEARS!!!!! here are some fics that made me cry real actual goddamn tears, many times in public. be warned and have tissues ready if you decide to embark on these fics!!!

in this world, we’re just beginning by cakesnake, nosecoffee

“I'm going to solve a mystery.” He tells Todd proudly.

Todd snorts. “Because you're a detective?”

“Correct. And you're going to help me.” Again, telling him, there is no question, Todd is intrinsically linked, he can feel it.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“This place is legitimately paradise, there's nothing to be solved, no mysteries here.” He shrugs, and takes another sip of his drink.

“If this place is such a paradise then why aren't you having fun?”

( A San Junipero AU )

CONTENT WARNING: DEATH. it’s a san junipero AU and if you dont know what that means, i implore you to quickly google it before you endeavor on this fic, just like i did. will that make you cry any less now that you know whats going to happen? ABSOLUTELY NOT. i read this fic right before an 8am class and my eyes were RED from BAWLING. the emotions in this fic are intense and really god me in the heart but also made me believe love is real.

I Can't Tell One From the Other (Did I Find You Or You Find Me) by Lavellington

"I can't possibly meet your parents on Sunday, Todd! It's too soon! I haven't done any preparatory research!"

"Yeah," Todd says, "we all know you're Mister Preparatory Research."

*

Todd's still trying to Fix Things with his family, and he's not sure if introducing them to Dirk Gently counts as progress in that department.

part of a series!!!! the whole series is wonderful but this fic is really my favorite of the whole thing. it doesnt look like itll make you cry, but it will, oh it will. i love this fic so much because it’s the kind of hurt that feels like pulling out a splinter. it has to happen to get better. wonderful piece.

and i could give you all the olive trees by orphan_account

Todd opened his eyes to a vision of dancing white and yellow blobs.

‘Daisies,’ he croaked.

‘I told you to run,’ Dirk said.

(Dirk and Todd get captured by Blackwing. It's no picnic.)

CONTENT WARNINGS: BLACKWING, VIOLENCE, AND INJURY. this fic is not for the faint of heart but if youre a fan of seeing characters get hurt but never give up this fic is gonna be amazing for you

The Only Way Out is Through (Or: How to be Almost, Mostly, Okay Again) by electricteatime / @kieren-fucking-walker​

"Terrible as it is, it’s easier to cling to the hope that there were good reasons for what they did. That the people who treated him well were at heart good people, and they hadn’t just been lying to him the whole time, that the small amounts of affection he’d been given were real and tangible. Even when he knows the truth somewhere deep inside it doesn’t mean he wants to acknowledge it.

But, like all things, it’s only a matter of time."

*** The only thing Dirk Gently has ever learned to do with his trauma, is shove it down as deep as it will go, lock it away, and hope that ignoring it means it isn't really there. For a while at least, it works. But when the past comes knocking looking to make amends, and pretending that none of it was as bad as it seemed isn't an option anymore, the delicate balancing act he's been practicing for years finally tips over the edge.

Healing is painful, recovery isn't linear, sometimes you have to tear everything down before you can start to rebuild.

His own demons might be the scariest thing he's ever had to face, but it's not something he has to do alone, and in the end that makes all the difference.

OHHHH MANNN OKAY OKAY SO. this fic is my all time favorite wip right now. i patiently wait for new chapters like a frothing at the mouth chihuahua waiting for a treat. this fic contains some real heavy stuff in terms of dirk’s trauma but more importantly, dirk’s recovery, and it is handled so goddamn well. this fic makes me cry, but it also gives me hope. do you want dirk gently to Get Better? THIS FIC IS FOR YOU!! PLEASE READ IT, I LOVE IT A LOT!!!

All Roads Lead to Nowhere (Except the one that Leads to You) by electricteatime

Todd’s heart stops. Or it feels like it does because… that’s a voice. That’s a human voice. That’s a human voice that he must have been hallucinating. He’s been driving too long, drunk too much coffee, didn’t get enough sleep last night he’s just-

“Bloody hell, it’s dark in here.”

Nope. Todd scrambles to open the car door and flings himself away from the vehicle, stumbling backwards until he lands on his ass, staring at the car with wide eyes and struggling to catch his breath past the sheer terror that’s overcome him all of a sudden.

This isn’t happening. ***

Todd knows the work he does isn't the most morally sound, being a delivery guy for a local gang was never going to to be, but the job is good, the pay is better, and no matter how temporary it was supposed to be when he started he has no intention of stopping now.

Then a strange man with an even stranger name wakes up in the trunk of his car, and everything goes to shit.

this is one of the first few fics i read for this fandom and i am blown away every single time i reread it. todd’s characterization in this fic hits the ball out of the park, and characterization and journey are just done so well it brings tears to my eyes. gorgeously crafted fic!!!

(He Wouldn’t Say) Kidnappings Were a Routine Part of his Career by Bumblie_Bee

Dirk is woken by something colliding with his face. Hard. He opens his eyes, and at first the room around him is hazy and dark, but as his eyes adjust and the blurriness clears a little, he sees he’s in what looks to be a warehouse and realises that the ‘something’ that had collided with his face was, in fact, probably a fist. Which would make it more of a ‘someone’ than a ‘something’, if he’s going to be precise.

CONTENT WARNINGS: VIOLENCE AND INJURY. okay this is straight up whump with comfort but goddamn do i love whump and comfort. what i love so much about this fic is that it doesnt just whump the hell outta dirk, it makes dirk go through the messy process of physical recovery. it’s so so difficult, and that makes me cry. oh but what an honor to cry for this fic!!!

you are the one (you hold me in my place); by unintentionallyangsty

three months after the events of Bergsberg and Wendimoor, Dirk is kidnapped again.

following this, it becomes very clear, very quickly, that Todd hasn't yet taken the time to mentally process the drastic shift that has taken place within his life, leading up to this point.

this is the aftermath.

CONTENT WARNING: BRIEF SELF-HARM. this fic is pretty intense on the emotions and it makes me cry because it is so apparent that the trio care about each other so much!!! wonderful look into how todd is dealing (or not dealing) with everything happening

if you cry reading these fics, dont forget to drink some water to re-hydrate!!! also dont forget to leave a comment to show these fic writers some love!!!! happy (or not so happy...) reading :Dc

[incorrigible-worksop]

Y’all I’ve never been tagged in one of these before!!! Initially created a tumblr for the sole purpose of lurking lmao 

was tagged by @sherlick-holmes​ & @xilopie!

Rules: tag 9 people you want to know get to know better (absolutely NO pressure lol)

Top 3 Ships:

At this very moment...

Todd Brotzman/Dirk Gently

Merlin/Arthur

(any and all combinations) Jon/Martin/Tim

Lipstick or Chapstick: chapstick. Bert’s Bees original is so good that I seriously limit myself to once a day! (I swear I’ve seen friends become addicted)

Last Song: Currently listening to Beach House ‘Drunk in LA’ but just switched to ‘Strangers’ by The Kinks

Last Movie: Literally just loaded up Portrait of a Lady on Fire, BUT seeing as I haven’t actually watched it yet, the last movie I finished...The Island?? not my pick hah it had a solid premise for like a Black Mirror episode, but the execution was a ‘meh’ for me

Reading: I AM STILL READING GOOD OMENS. for the past few months?? In my defence, I fell down a fanfic spiral. Also there was a slow bit where lots of new characters were being introduced, but it just suddenly picked up and now I’m into it again. 

Three random things that make me happy:

cat snuggles/making my cats dance

tea

social distancing online scrabble with family members AND WINNING FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!!! my family is insanely good at scrabble and I’ve never won in my life 

Tagging (seriously no pressure): @kieren-fucking-walker @dont-offend-the-bees @juniper-and-lamplight @flailfail @b0nblebee @sher-i-lock-u-in @goldenaltar @oury-boros @a-s-h-t-o-nx

Actually surprised I have people to tag. seriously created this tumblr to lurk. sorry if some of these are sideblogs. I don’t know what I’m doing 😂

[juniper-and-lamplight]

DGHDA Feedback Fest prompt: Share your to-be-read list

Look, we all know that it’s difficult to read all of the fic you’d like to read in a timely fashion. However, it’s easy to rec fics you’re looking forward to, and so that’s what I’m doing today! Some of these fics I’m saving for when I have more time, or when I’m in the right frame of mind, or when I need an enjoyable distraction from family holiday stress (I’ll see you at Christmas, Strange Magic). If you haven’t read these fics yet, check them out and consider adding them to your own TBR list — or better yet, beat me to reading them, and leave some nice comments while you’re there!

you can check out any time you like - @cosmicoceanfic​ - WIP, T, Dirk/Todd

“Dirk and Todd, with no memory in a hotel that goes on forever.”

Strange Magic - @dont-offend-the-bees​ - 118.4k, T, Dirk/Todd, AU

"With the freedom to indulge his every whim, the love (or at least toleration) of his subjects, and the affections of the loyal Sir Brotz, it seems the sun shines down upon the prince’s fortunes. But that's about to change, an ill-wind blowing in the form of a tournament to decide his future husband. No more childish abandon, no more adventure. And perhaps most importantly, no more canoodling with his favourite elfin knight. Desperate times like this call for a quest; but will they find a solution, or just more questions they never thought to ask?"

I went out to find my soul - @flightinflame​ - 52k, M

“Agent Cjelli has been trapped in Blackwing ever since the Rowdy Four escaped, taking project Lamia with them. Being assigned a new case, in which a Patrick Spring has asked for him specifically, is his chance to prove to Blackwing that he is still on their side. Until he meets his future self, and his future self's best friend, and he's suddenly not at all sure which side he is on.”

Your Heart, Found at Last - @gallantrejoinder​ - WIP, G, Dirk/Todd, Farah/Tina, Amanda/Martin, AU

“Dirk Gently is the name Svlad Cjelli gave himself at eight years old, when his mother died, leaving him in the care of his cruel stepfather, Lord Priest. Dirk dreams of the day he will be free of his stepfather at last.

His Royal Highness, Todd Brotzman, is the crown prince of France. But to outsiders, he's just an irresponsible and reckless young man avoiding his duty. Nobody knows that Todd does everything he does to protect his younger sister - and he dreams of the day he no longer has to hold onto this burden alone.

Her Royal Highness, Amanda Brotzman, is a princess of France. She's far more interested in a life of danger and excitement than sitting around in a castle all day. She's dreaming of the day she can be free.

Hugo Friedkin, the adopted son of Lord Priest, doesn't know to whom he owes his loyalty. He dreams of the day he'll understand everything.

These four are set to collide, and the outcome could be disastrous - or, it could be everything that they've been dreaming of all along.”

you're the closest thing to heaven (the earth has ever shown) - kekinkawaii | @zigostia​ - 35k, T, Dirk/Todd, AU

“Dirk Gently is an angel. No, actually. But he’s not a particularly good one, so it comes as quite the surprise when he gets assigned a prayer. Especially when said prayer turns out to be a plea, one that asks for Todd Brotzman to be… happier. What the hell does that even mean?

Todd is a headache wrapped in an enigma, but Dirk is adamant to make him crack. With the help of Todd’s sister, Dirk uncovers facts about Todd’s troubling past, but how much of what Amanda knows is true? Not only that, Dirk's own less-than-idyllic history is rapidly creeping up on the two of them. Dirk’s going to need a lot more Post-It notes for this.”

And I Love Him - Khoshekh42 | @pangolinwithproblems​ - 19.5k, M, Dirk/Todd

“It sounds odd to say that Todd was happy not an hour after learning that Priest had pulled strings and was trying to get Dirk deported back to Romania, but it was true. He knew that it was technically illegal to exploit the system and marry his best friend for the purpose of keeping him in the country, but Todd was punk. Fuck the system, fuck Priest, and fuck the universe.

And hey, if keeping Dirk in the country meant getting to marry him, then Todd wasn't going to complain. However, things start to get sticky as many secrets are told, kept, and uncovered, and Todd begins to wonder whether this was a good idea after all.”

Heat Stroke - Lynds | @gold-from-straw​ - 2k, T, Dirk/Todd

“As the day gets hotter and the water runs out, Dirk finds it harder to remember where he is, and what's going on. Todd's irritability turns into a threat, and all he wants to do is make sure he stays strong so that Riggins and Priest don't come punish him for being weak and ill. Or: Dirk gets slightly delirious from heat stroke, dehydration and panic, and Todd is Not Good at Feelings.”

Fear is Only In Your Mind - @triffidsandcuckoos​ - 11k, M, Dirk/Todd

“The universe has found a body for communicating. Todd Brotzman is having really weird dreams. An innate connection to the universe means reality isn't quite what it seems for everyone else.”

Further fic recs | Fic bookmarks

[protecticarus]

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

[coloursflyaway]

Dirk+Todd: 57+24 - Thor+Loki: 100+4 - Harry + Eggsy: 60+70 (You don't have to do all of them, but I'd be so happy :D)

Dirk/ Todd, 57: Forgotten First Meeting and 24: Soulmate AU

Oh Jesus, I actually kind of started to write a fanfic about that and never finished it!But anyway. This is like, almost but not quite what you asked, but I hope good enough after all (: (Meine Deutschlehrerin hätte es wohl trotzdem eine Themenverfehlung genannt)

They’re younger still, Dirk has just come to America, and everything is new and bright and loud and beautiful and he loves every second. He’s scared, too, also every second of it, but that doesn’t matter quite as much, not when everything is so exciting. He buys new clothes, and incredible amounts of pizza, and life is good, at least for now. Sometimes there are cases,  sometimes he even solves them, and it should be enough, but after a while, it isn’t anymore. There’s has always been this itch inside of him (if Dirk had ever known a home before, he’d call it homesickness), and back in England he had learnt to live with it, but now, in this new, strange land, he finds that it gets worse with every beat of his heart, every breath he takes. He doesn’t know why, or what causes it, but one night he wakes up, choking on it, and there is just one thought left in his mind; he needs to walk. And walk he does, without knowing where to, only that with every step he takes, it gets a bit easier to breathe. The city around him turns dirty, run-down, but he keeps walking, until he’s standing underneath a window that’s brightly lit, open although Dirk is fairly certain that it’s dangerous to keep it that way in the night.A moment passes in which he doesn’t know why he has stopped, then a guitar starts to play, and a voice belts out two, three, four words, and Dirk is home. He knows that voice although he never heard it before, he knows the person behind it, although they never met. And he knows they’ll meet, someday, somewhere, and that he’ll look at them and never leave again. It takes another five years, seven months, two weeks and twenty-eight days until he finds out that the band he listened to under that window was called Mexican Funeral, and seven days less than that to find his soulmate. 

Thor/Loki, 4: Coffee Shop AU and 100: Accidentally Savingthe Day

(I’m really bad at getting these topics right 100%)

It’s not that Thor wanted to start working in the shop, it just happened. The world is quiet after all, now after Thanos has only left half of them alive, too many empty spaces to be filled. Thor tries not to think of what is left of him, or his heart, or what used to fill it, so he spends as much time as possible outside, sometimes just walking, sometimes helping, sometimes finding a spot in this empty city that’s loud enough to make it impossible to think. One of those is a small café, which used to be run by a couple, now only one woman who looks twenty years older than her age, and cries in the kitchen when she thinks no one notices, clutching a tattered photo to her chest. At first, it’s only supposed to be a small act of kindness, because Thor knows she needs the money, and there is a man, who has been waiting to be served for ten minutes at least without her reappearing, swollen eyes or not. So he gets up from his seat, walks behind the counter and makes the best cup of coffee he possibly can. It must still taste bitter, but the man just thanks him, hands him a bill and leaves. Thor doesn’t need his dead brother’s magic to know that the man he just served is as broken, as splintered inside as he is, as the woman running this café is. And it doesn’t help to help him, not really, but it is something to do and something to forget yourself in, and Thor figures that, if any of the Avengers needed him, they’d find him eventually. So he stays.

He doesn’t come to work every day, and if, he doesn’t always help, but the owner, Ingrid, he learns, and he find an understanding without ever talking about it. Sometimes, she leaves for hours on end, comes back drunk, or crying, or not at all; sometimes he flinches when someone with green eyes comes inside, or cannot speak when a young man smiles with just enough mischief in his eyes. Once, he punches a hole into the wall when a young woman asks him how he is holding up. Ingrid just puts a poster up over it.

Then, one day, there’s an attack. Nothing special, at least not by his standards, some other race, come to enslave humanity once more, and Thor could fight them, should fight them, but he’s tired. He has lived millennia and suddenly he feels each year weighing him down, and he knows Ingrid feels almost the same, so while he could try, he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a punch, takes a second, finds that the pain gets easier to bear with every drop of blood they beat out of him.

His nose splinters under a fist, his lip splits open, and suddenly the air next to him moves, swirls, tastes tart and familiar on his tongue. Thor opens his eyes, although the blood makes them sting, watches the air turn golden and green and black in front of him. It shouldn’t be possible, not until he’s stepped foot in Valhalla, and yet Loki is there, his armor glistening in the sunlight and his expression screaming murder. Slender fingers thread themselves into his hair, pull his head back until Loki can look at him properly. There is something like pity in his eyes, or maybe it’s just pain; Thor only has a moment to recognise it. Maybe it’s love. “Stand down”, Loki hisses, and although his words are hardly loud enough to stir the air, no one dares to move. “He’ll be mine to kill once Ragnarök comes.”

Harry/Eggsy, 60: Poorly TimedConfession and 70: Locked in a Room

“Oh, you have got to be kiddin’ me.” Eggsy tries the doorknob again, pushes his shoulder into the door, but it won’t budge, just like the last time he tried this. Or the one before. Or the one before. It’s not his fault, though, not really, because the Statesman HQ is huge, and he has gotten lost more often than not, and there are four different doors to choose from in the kitchen. Usually, he chooses the right ones, too, but apparently not in a panic. 

“Eggsy?”, comes a voice from the other side, Harry, who sounds genuinely concerned. “Are you alright?”It’s a difficult question to answer; physically, yes, psychologically? Not quite. Not after he unthinkingly told Harry, “G’night for now, love you”, before realising what he had said, tried to run out of the room, but instead got himself locked up in the supply closet. “Yes?”, he tries anyway, finds that he sounds as unconvincing as he feels. “Mostly.”

There is a pause, loaded, it feels at least to Eggsy, who stops jingling the doorknob and instead just sinks down onto the floor to wallow in misery there. He doesn’t think Harry is going to hate him for this - he can’t call it crush, not when it’s so much more - this thing, but he will try to talk to Eggsy about it, and everything between them will be incredibly uncomfortable from now, and at the moment, that sounds almost as bad. 

“Is there something you would like to tell me?”, Harry finally says, every word pronounced carefully, slowly, like Eggsy is a small animal he is trying not to frighten. “I really think saying it once is bad enough”, Eggsy responds, and there is half a chuckle in his voice, born of desperation, not mirth. “It hasn’t changed much in the two minutes you haven’t seen me, bruv.”Again, a pause, the shuffle of shoes and a mumbling that sounds like Harry is talking to himself, then, “So you did mean it.”

Harry says it with wonder in his voice, something almost sounding like amazement, and Eggsy won’t hope, he won’t, he - “You know, dear boy”, Harry says, and his voice still sounds the same, just warmer, softer. “I quite return the sentiment.”

It doesn’t take a moment for Eggsy to understand the words Harry is saying, it doesn’t even take a minute, or two, it takes a year at least, a century at most.“You what?”, he asks back, halfway through it, and Harry, still hidden behind that blasted door, laughs. “Love you too”, he replies, and Eggsy’s brain short-circuits, has him on his feet, pressed against the wood within a second. “What?”, he asks again, like it‘s the only word he’s still able to form. “Do I really have to repeat myself?”, Harry asks instead of answering, “The answer hasn’t changed much in the few seconds you haven’t asked.”“Kinda. Yeah”, Eggsy mutters, rests his head against the door; if he has wished this door to hell before, now he’s ready to carry it there himself. There’s a tentative happiness starting to blossom in the back of his mind, lighter than anything else he has ever felt, and so overwhelming Eggsy isn’t sure he’ll be able to take in all of it at once.

“I love you, then”, Harry says again, softly now, as if he was pressed against the door too. Eggsy really hopes he is. This time, the happiness almost washes him away, makes him dizzy. It still hasn’t quite sunken in that he could really, truly have this, Harry by his side, holding his hand, kissing him, but it will with time. As soon as he can get past this door, and look at Harry while he says those words again.

“Get me the fuck out of here, Harry”, he says, no, demands, closes his eyes and tries to imagine how it’ll be to be with the only person he never thought he could have a chance with. “And I swear, if you don’t kiss me so hard I’ll see stars once I am, you’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”“I think I can do both.”

Send me two tropes, a ship and I’ll write you a far too long ficlet about it

[kieren-fucking-walker]

Pairing - brotzly, au - sci fi or aliens (basically what season 3 would have been...)

Being abducted by aliens turns out to be a truly terrifying experience, the teleportation beam that had captured them in the first place leaving them both sick, dizzy, and wondering how the hell they were going to tell Farah what they’d gotten into now. There appeared to be one redeeming feature for Todd however, who sank down to the floor of the ship next to Dirk, pale and shaky as he tilts his head towards the earth laid out before them, terrifyingly tiny from all the way up here. “See,” he somehow manages to sound self satisfied even past the overwhelming panic in his voice, “I fucking told you it wasn’t flat.” 

(Send me a ship and an AU setting, and I’ll write a 3 sentence (or more if it takes me) fic.)