lazy warm saturdays with little brother. waking up to him curled against my chest and coaxing him awake with my mouth on his cunt. making us pancakes as he sits on the counter swinging his legs. eating our breakfast to his favourite show and tackling him into the pillow when he pinches me one too many times. walking to the shop on the corner to grab slushies and racing back home. playing videogames together on the floor and fingering him sweetly as a reward for winning. falling asleep in our separate rooms but shifting over when he inevitably, quietly slips into my room after sundown to curl up against my back
its lazy but… i Love drawing pokemon. god always feel free to ask me to draw pokemon. i think this would be his team and hear me out. dave’s bro would be a fire/steel user more or less. (maybe some like… psychic or ghost for the mind/lil cal thing). dave would start and as an ace trainer and realize he actually… doesnt want to battle. thats not what he wants to do. so he gathers pokemon who he loves and cherishes.-some reasonings: woobat is filled with love. cubone needs much love. archen… Archen. whimsicott is a fairy type which would be super effective against bros’ DEFINITE steel typing and that would be Cathartic and healing. bulbasaur- cmon. look at that lil bro. zigzagoon is a furry friend who w pickup would help dave with all kinds of neat finds and itd be hella cute to go on digs n stuff.i know lots of ppl give dave like, aegislash and murkrow and stuff bc Crows and Swords but if i think about what he would Want, not whats associated w him, i think this is more up his alley. a team full of love and softness.
trauma (noun): emotional shock following a stressful event or a physical injury, which may be associated with physical shock and sometimes leads to long-term neurosis.
(Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12865395)
You didn't mean to. That's one of the fucking thousand thoughts knotting into one painful tangled ball in your head right now. Or maybe it's in your chest. That'd explain why you all of a sudden can't breathe.
You didn't mean to push him. Not hard enough for him to trip like that, end up swearing and picking himself up at the bottom of the stairs. It was a fucking joke, neither of you were actually laughing but you were baiting him and he was growling invective at you, and he grabbed for your shades (a joke, he wasn't going to do anything, god) and you reacted.
You shoved him.
He's standing at the foot of the stairs and you look at him for one second, enough to see that he's bitten his lip or something and it's bleeding, there's blood on it, and you can't. You can't fucking look. You can't breathe either.
You know exactly what you just did and oh god you shouldn't have. You hurt him. You. Hurt. Karkat. There's a fucking twisted déjà vu here, too. You can't believe this. You can't fucking believe that you're enough like—
"Dave, what the fuck. Come on, we're already late."
How the hell does he sound that normal? Annoyed, but nothing else.
You open your eyes (why did you even bother closing them? because you're too much of a coward to look at what you did?) and he's just standing there, looking up at you and wiping impatiently at his mouth with his sleeve. How the hell does he not look upset, angry, afraid, anything like that?
Well, he's starting to look a bit confused as well as annoyed, since you can't bring yourself to move. "Dave, what's going on?"
Somehow you can't exactly answer that question. You shake your head instead, closing your eyes for a second and not looking right at him when you open them, not that he can tell. "Fuck. Sorry." Too bad your voice is a hell of a lot shakier than you ever let it get when you're in control of yourself. "I'm. I'm sorry." Apologising does not, actually, make it better, and you know that. Hell, haven't you been on the other side of this?
"For what? I'm a clumsy asshole, we both know that. And I'm fine." You can hear the frown in his voice as he climbs the six or seven stairs up to you, stopping on the one below where you're at and tilting his head back to look up at you. "Dave, I'm fine. It was an accident, I tripped."
"I fucking pushed you." Your eyes are closed again. Coward. "I'm—"
What are you? Sorry? Yeah, that's one of the things you might've said, but he reaches up and puts his hands on the sides of your face, pushing your shades up, and you have to either open your eyes or let him think you don't want to look at him. You have to go with the former.
He still doesn't look mad. Sad, maybe. Or worried. You suck so bad at reading normal people.
"It was an accident," he says, calm and level, like you hardly ever see from him. "An accident. There's a difference between trying to hurt someone and fucking up a little. It's okay."
"I—"
Again he doesn't let you finish the sentence. "Sit the fuck down before you fall down," he not-quite-snaps, and pulls you down to sit next to him on the stairs. You don't really want to sit down, but the alternative is pulling away from him, and no way in hell are you going to fight him right now. "It's okay."
If you argue, you're just going to stammer and lose your sentences completely. So you shake your head and work on composing yourself, which is a hell of a lot harder than it should be.
It takes a couple minutes for you to calm down and relax enough to realize that you're leaning on his shoulder. Which is. Okay. It's okay.
"I'm sorry," you tell him. "I swear I'd never pull that shit on you on purpose, dude, I—"
"Dave. I know. It's okay." He huffs out a breath, reaching up and touching your lips gently with one finger, effectively silencing you as you open your mouth again. "Stop. You didn't mean it, we both know that. You gonna admit what's fucking you up right now?"
To him? No. To yourself? Yeah. You kind of have to.
"I know what's fucked up," you admit, when he takes his hand away from your mouth.
"Okay. And it's not you." He frowns at you when you shake your head. "You're not the fucking problem here. This was a fucking accident, a little stupid one that barely hurt anything."
"It's still—" Your fault, you're going to point out, but he cuts you off.
"Quit trying to make yourself think you're him, asshole. You're not. You don't have to be. You're not going to be. It's okay." He scowls at you for the few seconds that you're struggling for something to say, then shakes his head. "You believe me?"
"I trust you," you tell him, immediately, because it's the goddamn truth. Maybe not the answer to his question, but the truth.
"Alright. You okay to head in and see the others?"
"Yeah."
By the time you open the door from the hall to the main room you are, mostly, over it. You're still conscious of the fact that the two of you are late and that he's more scruffed-up than usual, but when Rose looks over and raises an eyebrow it's not all that hard to pull up a grin.
"Hey, sorry, I was doing shit—" Fuck, she's going to ask what kind of shit. Except Karkat interrupts you before she can.
"He pushed me down the fucking stairs." But he glances over at you and lets you see his small smile as he says it. What he doesn't say is that it's okay.
You can hear it, though. And when nobody else is looking you smile back at him for a second. Later, you'll need to tell him thank you.
supposedly it's not supposed to get either unbearably cold or unbearably hot on Earth C but then again nothing's perfect and sometimes it DOES get very, very hot. Dave doesn't sleep well when it's hot, maybe because he won't sleep shirtless with Karkat and the grubs and maybe because it being hot reminds him of being back before the game started and how hot it used to get in the apartment in the summer
Karkat ends up napping during the day a lot even though the heat doesn't fuck him up as bad as it does Dave; most of the grubs are more than happy to curl up in bed with him and chirp quietly to each other. Dave doesn't do the napping in bed thing, but he'll go into the living room and move the fan over so it hits him if he lies on the couch—there's nobody in there with him, he can strip his shirt off and not worry about it. For a while that works, then he wakes up with a grub on his stomach, tracing scars with one foreleg and making worried noises at him. And yeah, they're probably not asking what happened but Dave starts out by promising them he's okay and finds himself telling them as much as he can figure out how to explain about Bro without venturing into territory that's going to mentally scar the lil' guy. Even with being vague about it, he still ends up saying more than he ever managed to say to Karkat, since the extent of explanation he's ever been able to offer was basically "they're from Bro, you know?" and nothing else. Karkat still gets most of it this time, though, because either the sound of Dave trying not to ugly cry or a telepathic alert from one of the grubs wakes him up and brings him out into the living room to listen. And maybe Dave doesn't want to be seen talking about this shit, but when he does finally give up and start sobbing there's Karkat to pull him up and hold him, and there's a bunch of his adopted alien kids to crawl into their laps and make reassuring noises until he can calm down again
consider: dave mumbles so much because bro barely ever spoke to him. when he gets to the meteor and people start telling him he's doing it he's startled at first then grows to love the inclusion
Oooooh yeah this is a big mood, not to mention it’s probably used as a coping mechanism to deal with the high tension of the apartment, what with all the traps and mindfucks and LIL CAL appearing out of nowhere at any second even within Dave’s own room. Dave even said that he didn’t understand why everyone gave him a hard time about it because “it was one of the most comforting things” to him. (ALSO if you’re like me and theorize that Dave has Asperger’s, than you can also interpret the mumbling as self regulative stimming)
As far as loving the inclusion, I agree to an extent, boy loves the fact that there are actual people around him that talk to him and not just loom in the shadows, but I don’t doubt theirs a little embarrassment around it just because it’s one of the huge parts of Dave that really differentiate him from his persona (he’s basically vocalizing his entire stream of thought, which if that isn’t being an Open Book idk what is. )
Like he becomes really aware of it at times and probably feels the need to be defensive over it at first but over time it becomes p clear it’s not something to be insecure about, it’s just a normal thing he does that comforts him and eventually becomes everyone else’s normal too and they only call attention to it to clarify if he’s specifically talking to them or not.
people are giving one of my mutuals hell about it and i am. disgusted. LMAO there are sitll people in 2017 saying bro did nothing wrong and im so blown tbfh lmao
so I saw you wanted trans Dave + unsupportive Bro headcanons - how about Bro sometimes dressing him up in frilly dresses despite Dave's protests, usually if he was involved in helping out w those smuppet films. - possiblydave (idk what headcanons you're looking for specifically rip)
))))):B
Fuck bro strider he can choke
And yea just. In general a lot of people when they talk about dave being trans they usually add in bro being supportive to some degree, and some people even use it to try to justify how he treated dave or to lessen it and make it seem not as bad and that PISSES ME THE FUCK OFF
