Roxy gave me the most orange kitten ever. She's really cute and fluffy. I named her Orangina. Last night she slept on my pillow by Lil' Cal. When school starts, she's coming with me too.
[Dirk realises he's said something wrong when the first response comes. By the time the second part appears in front of him, he doesn't feel like anything less than absolute shit.]
[He stares at the pages for a long moment. He can't quite make out the words that Dirk scribbled, so after another few moments, he gets out his wand and spells away the scribbles. What he sees makes him feel like shit.]
thats not true dirk. at all. dont ever fucking say that again. dyou understand? because then i really will fucking ground you for the rest of your life.
look i guess i just. why did you even say it if you didnt mean it.
its not true though. and im not a liar. so you cant disagree. seriously dirk. i promise youre not a shitty son.
or nephew.
right. yeah. i mean. i should know that by now. ive had a lot of practice there. but seriously its fine if you dont want to. idc. you dont have to force yourself to do shit with me if you dont want to. im a big boy. nothing a bottla jack wont cure. hell maybe i should get all my favorite boys up in here for a party. seriously though whatever dirk its fine. ill be alright dont beat yourself up. youre not a bad guy. like i said i love you. ive got your back. even if you dont have doctor boners or w/e.
Fucking fuck shit shit hell damn it why does this happen. This happens more than it ever should. Making Dirk cry is just. something he does way too often and he hates himself for it every time. Goddamn it. Fuck everything. Fuck.
He heaves himself off of the futon and instantly the world is spinning. Fuck. He stumbles forward, trying to make his way to Dirk's room, but he ends up stumbling into the hallway wall, falling to his knees.]
Mother of fuck. [Because he can't even get this right. He can't even make it in there to comfort the kid he just made cry. He has to be the single shittiest person in the entire world. It's not even a question by this point, he knows it's true.]
Dirk... [He tries to call out for him. He hopes like fuck that it comes out loud enough for him to hear. He's hardly able to judge how loud his own voice is.] Please...
[After tossing his journal from the top bunk to the floor, Dirk lays down and tosses his blankets over his head. He's just trying to regain control over his emotions. He wants to bottle everything up again, because getting upset over this? It's so stupid, and he feels bad for it.
He hears Bro, but for a good minute or two, he stays laying in his bed. He almost decides to not get up at all, but in the end he wipes his face with his pyjama sleeve and climbs down from the top bunk. He opens the bedroom door quietly and steps into the doorway, but he doesn't do anything else. He's not even sure what to say or do. Hell, he didn't even know Bro was home prior to this moment.]
[It takes Bro a few seconds to register the fact that Dirk spoke. The room is spinning and it's really hard not to fall over onto his side. When he looks up and sees Dirk standing there, it's all he can do not to fall- but he actually does fall, because he can't stop himself. He rolls over onto his back and when ends up looking at Dirk upside down.]
I... I'm s-hnnnn... I-hnnn...
[He swallows back the heaves, swallows down the bile rising in his throat. He has to speak, he can't vomit. He's pretty sure if he vomits at this angle, he'll probably die anyway.
He'd be doing them a favour.]
I'm s-sorry... [He lifts his arm shakily, beckoning Dirk to come forward. He wants to hug him. He just can't move to initiate it himself.]
[Dirk's hesitant to move, particularly because it looks like his uncle's about to retch. It takes him another solid minute make his feet move that couple metres between them.
Slowly, he sits down, parallel to Bro's upper torso, then leans over, partially on him, to rest his had on Bro's chest.]
[At first he's afraid that Dirk won't come over, and his stomach twists even more. But finally, thankfully, Dirk does and Bro feels better. When he sits down, he throws an arm over him and pulls him as close as he can.]
I'm not...acceptin' your apology, because... y'got nothin' to be sorry for...
[He sounds tired, slurred, but genuine. To be honest he can barely remember what he was even mad at Dirk about in the first place. Well, he can. But it seems so fucking inconsequential now.]
[He's all but clinging to Bro, and it's not until he realises the patch of shirt against his face is soaked that he realises that he's crying again. He knows he does it entirely too much but he can't always get it to stop, like right now.]
[If he notices, he really doesn't care. If he wasn't so drunk, if the full weight in its entirety of just how fucked up things were could actually hit him, he would be crying too. But instead it's just sitting in his stomach, making him feel a little nauseous. He's too drunk to really, properly be depressed. But that doesn't make him any less sorry.
But he lets out a sigh, and brings his hand up to rub at Dirk's hair.]
Can we just...be cool again, Dirk? Y'know... brodates, and tacos, and... Y'know, that kinda thing? I don't like fightin'. I don't like hurtin' your feelings... I just wanna go back to normal. Okay? Can that... be a thing again?
[Dirk's eyes flicker open for a moment when he feels Bro's hand in his hair. He glances upward, but it's only brief. It's more comfortable to just keep laying his head against his chest.]
Yeah. I want that. I want to do fun stuff with you and not make us mad at each other.
[Though by this point, Dirk's just too exhausted to feel any of the frustration he had earlier. He's still sad, he's still crying, but it's just that. He feels considerably better.
Honestly? This entire thing would've gone down better if he still wasn't coming down from the negative side effects from a weeklong party.]
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no subject
I didn't mean it.
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Except for the last part about the restaurants because I did look them up.
I want to watch it with you. And anything else you wanna do, because I like to do stuff with you.
You're my favourite uncle. ヽ(；▽；)ノ
[He doubts he's making any of this better. He just didn't realise how abrasive he came off and he just wants make it better.]
no subject
your google skills have officially surpassed mine.
proud of you etc.
you have a great way of showing that.
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Well it's not a particularly new concept to me.
I'm a shitty a lot of things.
Son, nephew, ect.You don't have to believe me, but I am sorry.
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thats not true dirk.
at all.
dont ever fucking say that again.
dyou understand?
because then i really will fucking ground you for the rest of your life.
look i guess i just.
why did you even say it if you didnt mean it.
no subject
Seems like a sign to me.
Because. I don't know.
Who doesn't say stuff they don't mean?
no subject
and im not a liar.
so you cant disagree.
seriously dirk.
i promise youre not a shitty son.
or nephew.
right.
yeah.
i mean.
i should know that by now.
ive had a lot of practice there.
but seriously its fine if you dont want to.
idc.
you dont have to force yourself to do shit with me if you dont want to.
im a big boy.
nothing a bottla jack wont cure.
hell maybe i should get all my favorite boys up in here for a party.
seriously though whatever dirk its fine.
ill be alright dont beat yourself up.
youre not a bad guy.
like i said i love you.
ive got your back.
even if you dont have doctor boners or w/e.
no subject
[If you think there are water stains on his text, or that his ink is smeared, you're mistaken.]
Text > Action
Fucking fuck shit shit hell damn it why does this happen. This happens more than it ever should. Making Dirk cry is just. something he does way too often and he hates himself for it every time. Goddamn it. Fuck everything. Fuck.
He heaves himself off of the futon and instantly the world is spinning. Fuck. He stumbles forward, trying to make his way to Dirk's room, but he ends up stumbling into the hallway wall, falling to his knees.]
Mother of fuck. [Because he can't even get this right. He can't even make it in there to comfort the kid he just made cry. He has to be the single shittiest person in the entire world. It's not even a question by this point, he knows it's true.]
Dirk... [He tries to call out for him. He hopes like fuck that it comes out loud enough for him to hear. He's hardly able to judge how loud his own voice is.] Please...
no subject
He hears Bro, but for a good minute or two, he stays laying in his bed. He almost decides to not get up at all, but in the end he wipes his face with his pyjama sleeve and climbs down from the top bunk. He opens the bedroom door quietly and steps into the doorway, but he doesn't do anything else. He's not even sure what to say or do. Hell, he didn't even know Bro was home prior to this moment.]
Yeah.
no subject
I... I'm s-hnnnn... I-hnnn...
[He swallows back the heaves, swallows down the bile rising in his throat. He has to speak, he can't vomit. He's pretty sure if he vomits at this angle, he'll probably die anyway.
He'd be doing them a favour.]
I'm s-sorry... [He lifts his arm shakily, beckoning Dirk to come forward. He wants to hug him. He just can't move to initiate it himself.]
no subject
Slowly, he sits down, parallel to Bro's upper torso, then leans over, partially on him, to rest his had on Bro's chest.]
Me too.
no subject
I'm not...acceptin' your apology, because... y'got nothin' to be sorry for...
[He sounds tired, slurred, but genuine. To be honest he can barely remember what he was even mad at Dirk about in the first place. Well, he can. But it seems so fucking inconsequential now.]
no subject
I still am anyway.
no subject
But he lets out a sigh, and brings his hand up to rub at Dirk's hair.]
Can we just...be cool again, Dirk? Y'know... brodates, and tacos, and... Y'know, that kinda thing? I don't like fightin'. I don't like hurtin' your feelings... I just wanna go back to normal. Okay? Can that... be a thing again?
no subject
Yeah. I want that. I want to do fun stuff with you and not make us mad at each other.
[Though by this point, Dirk's just too exhausted to feel any of the frustration he had earlier. He's still sad, he's still crying, but it's just that. He feels considerably better.
Honestly? This entire thing would've gone down better if he still wasn't coming down from the negative side effects from a weeklong party.]