my detective

anonymous asked:

brotzly baking (cakes/cookies/whatever yo) I'd read it pal

I see your adorable Brotzly baking prompt and I raise you TIPSY BROTZLY BAKING GET-TOGETHER FIC plz and thank u

I spent SO LONG trying to get this right and I’m still not entirely happy with how it turned out… I think I’ve got a long way to go before I get these characters’ voices down. But I think it’s passably cute so I hope it’s entertaining at any rate ^_^

     Blood Is Thicker Than Water (But You Know What’s Even Thicker?                                        Cookie Dough. Tastes Better, Too.)

Sometimes, life at the agency was… exhausting. Often in the good way- the exhilaration of making a break in a case, of seeing Dirk’s eyes light up as he got up and ran to the unheard call of the universe, Todd rarely far behind. Never far behind, actually. Sometimes Dirk even grabbed his hand without thinking, as if they both didn’t know Todd would follow him whether he wanted to or not.

And therein lay the cause of the bad exhaustion. It was entirely possible that Todd looked forward to those moments of careless physical affection far more than he should. He had no idea what was going on in Dirk’s head, whether even a fraction of the feelings he’d been developing were mirrored there, whether Dirk even cared if they were. But these days life in the office was feeling more and more like a delicate balancing act, between being Dirk’s friend and cohort and being… something else. On those long, long days, waiting for fate to drop a case in their laps, with nothing to do but talk to Dirk, play games with Dirk, stare at Dirk whenever he thought he wasn’t looking- those were the days Todd figured he could really use a two-month hibernation and maybe a new hobby.

But occasionally the exhaustion- the good and the bad- paid off, and they solved a case. And if there was one belief held true by all three members of Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, it was that a case well-solved was worth celebrating.

Keep reading

rubberglue  asked:

Marcus Bell 3, 8, 14

Originally posted by joanlockwatson

~scars/painful spots~

bullet wound on his stomach, numerous nicks and cuts from the job as well as childhood, an old skinned elbow from wrestling with his brother during a basketball game that got a little heated. his left knee sticks sometimes because of a lifetime of pickup games and intramural sports. nothing shows up on an MRI yet, but he assumes it’s only a matter of time.

~bad memories/experiences~

they’ve never said what happened to his dad, have they? maybe he was a jamaican immigrant who was deported when marcus was little, ended up staying where he was and trying to maintain a relationship with his boys through letters and phone calls.

eighth grade, the first two girls he asked to the school dance rejected him for being too short. this was a running theme in his life that he does his best to mitigate by having other things to bring to the table.

his first day as a detective, he overheard one of his new colleagues refer to him as a diversity quota. a couple of the bigger assholes started calling him DQ until he made them shut up by being good at his job.

~ingrained habits~

licks his lips, always chooses the treadmill furthest from the locker room, texts his mom after every shift so she knows he got home safe

anonymous asked:

Holy frick frack in a snick snack can. When I first got the notification saying "red robin au" I was like "oh it's a restaurant au city's probably not into dc." But then I saw you meant Red Robin as in Tim Drake and I flipped,, thank you for this I love your au's so so much and your art is absolutely amazing

i fucking love tim drake so much, my genius detective sassy son o|-<

i love (or used to, i kinda fell out of it) dcu and batfam stuff. i ate up so much questionable content batfic, they are all my precious children