this aside was entirely written by vector. you can leave reviews here and I will take them to her, or go directly to revolutionator dot tumblr dot com/ask and leave her a message!
Warnings: this made me legitimately cry, you guys. watch out.
Disclaimer: basically vector is the best writer it is her. also, husshusshuss.
TG: it was hideous
TG: i dont think ive ever been that jumped up and awful in front of my bro ever
TG: i dunno we train pretty hard for our poker faces so the fact i was freaking out made it worse and then suddenly i was just chattering all this bullshit and then he touched my shoulder and it was like flicking the switch to waterworks central
TG: and then he was bro-hugging me with one arm and calling up the pizza place with the other
TG: it was
TG: bizarre
- marionAttitude [MA] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] -
MA: too slow
MA: i can tell you want to talk about something what is it
TG: hey bro i
TG: fuck
TG: maybe i was just checking your pesterchum reflexes
TG: what now
MA: theyre lightning fast as always lil bro
MA: now cut the bullshit
TG: but i thought you loved bullshit
MA: dave
TG: just fuckin with you haha ok
TG: say a dude had something he wanted to get off his chest
TG: maybe even to his permanent parental substitute
MA: uh.
TG: hey were still dealing in the realms of the hypothetical
MA: sure we are.
TG: would a hilarious cinematic reimagining of the events be a passable way to communicate
TG: seeing how were not blunt and straightforward about anything in this house ever
MA: so it's about you.
MA: could've spun that out another few lines or so.
TG: yeah shut up
MA: anyway that depends on how hilarious the reimagining of events was.
MA: whatever just throw this news my way.
MA: dave. post it already.
TG: ok jegus copy-pasting
TG: TG: act 1: wherein our hero is accosted and repeatedly bumped into by some douchebag
TG: act 2: wherein the douchebag proceeds to assfondle our hero
TG: then in the climactic third act the hero decides fuck this ive had enough of some douchebag touching me
TG: he strides into work in a manner that befits his surname
TG: and he opens his mouth and says
TG: colin
TG: (the douchebags name)
TG: look i really dont dig you laying your hands on various parts of my anatomy
TG: we cool bro
TG: and the hero lift his hand up to fistbump him and he just looks at him like he doesnt know what the fuck the hero is talking about
TG: fast forward a couple scenes
TG: its time for the heros fifteen minute break
TG: fuckin excellent
TG: the hero goes outside to get some fresh air and then all of a sudden
TG: (dramatic camera pan here)
TG: its douchebag colin
TG: who proceeds to shove the hero up against the wall and grunt some utterly debasing shit about how he can tell im gay and that ive been flaunting myself in front of him for fuck knows how long
TG: and then the douchebag defiles the heros mouth
TG: thankfully the hero isnt a complete piece of shit
TG: he knees him in the groin and goes to tell the manager
TG: the manager calls bullshit
TG: the hero hands in his notice
TG: roll credits
- marionAttitude [MA] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] -
Dave swivelled his chair around, completely unsurprised by his elder brother already standing there. The muscle of his stomach was a hard, tight knot, and it only clenched tighter when Bro took a step towards him.
'A guy at work?'
All of the spit in his mouth had just up and left. Dave swallowed, trying to get enough of a handle on the English language to at least hack a reply out, who gave a shit if it didn't pass Bro's ironic standards of quality? Better to disgrace himself with an outdated reference than to just let this accusatory silence get any thicker.
'Yeah.'
Tragic.
'And he touched you?'
'Yeah.'
The silence grew thicker. Dave supposed that this was ordinarily the stage where people spoke with their faces - but of course, you didn't do that in the Strider household. What was on show of Bro Strider's face was passive and completely unreadable. Maybe Dave looked like that too. In fact, he definitely did. He'd trained himself too hard to let the facade slip, even while undergoing an internal emotional breakdown such as this one.
'Internal emotional breakdown'? Jeez, were they having a sale on hyperbolic turns of phrase today?
'Hey, it's not a big deal or anything,' he found himself saying. 'Who gives a shit, right? I mean, if I'm such a hot piece of ass that people can't keep their hands off the merchandise, that's one thing. Who can blame 'em? Fuck, the only real mystery here is why it didn't happen sooner-'
'Dave.' Bro took another step forward.
'And expecting you to give a shit! You'd think a kid would learn what counts as worth telling his older brother. What a fucking miserable mindset, thinking that my elder brother would take any action over me getting molest-'
'Dave, cut that shit out,' Bro cut in sharply, close enough now to rest his hand gingerly over his younger brother's shoulder. 'I-'
'Fuck,' Dave said, and then lowered his head instinctively as his eyes grew hot and his lips threatened to waver. If he was going to fall to pieces this spectacularly - shit, the tears were already falling thick and fast - he was at least going to have the decency to keep his goddamn face hidden.
What a let-down this was for everyone involved.
And then.
And then -
Wait, no. That couldn't be right. There was fabric against his face. Polo shirt fabric, just like the crappy stuff Bro bought in economy packs. And there was an arm around him. The feeling of contact on this level was so inexcusably alien that it took Dave a second to fully register it.
He raised his face, still uncomfortably aware of the steady streams still trailing from beneath his shades. Bro's free hand was clutching his cell-phone to his face.
'Who the hell am I even talking to?' He was angry. 'Kid, I don't give a shit about proper channels for customer complaints. Put me on the phone to your manager or I'll show up in person.'
Dave buried his face into Bro's front and let his words blur together, become incoherent. Just because he was feeling overwhelmingly relieved and possibly even moved (not that he would ever admit it), it wasn't any excuse to keep his tear-soaked face up in the open where any douchebag could see.
Striders had images to maintain, after all.