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Jun. 13th, 2012 09:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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On reflection, Mrs. Smith's health class had been the absolute worst part of middle school. Sure there had been the shades incident, but in the long term, the tiled walls and the sickening scent of baked rubber and burnt popcorn was her only comfort when it came to afternoon teachings. Mrs. Smith herself wasn't much to look at, and she had a habit of playing favorites with the pretentious suck-ups of the school, particularly the girls-- she seemed to think that they should all stick together.
Which was a problem only because Dove was already enough of an outcast with her permanent shades and her overall nonchalant attitude. She just didn't care what they had to say, or what the teacher said for that matter, anything she learned here could be taught a lot faster and simpler by Bro, and probably a lot more accurate, if she thought hard enough about it.
Sex Ed hadn't been the problem though, because most of that was lectures on abstinence, and STDs, and how to properly use a condom(a section that caused most of the girls to giggle and her own eyes to roll. Really, a banana was not the most phallic imagery, she could name 5 things off the top of her head that could look more like a penis then a banana; she and Bro had a good laugh about it over the corner store eggrolls and breakfast burritos they had for dinner that night). What had been a problem, was when Smith had taken it upon herself to teach the girls about taking care of themselves.
To say that she'd delved into the personal hygiene chapter when all the boys were out for some field trip, or had detention or something was sexist at best, and Dove really wanted to part of it, but she'd already been caught skipping that class twice already, and she didn't want to get in trouble-- not that she cared too much, but Bro was already working himself to the bone, no need to make him come all the way down to the school for a stupid parent teacher conference about her behavior-- so she sat through the droning lessons about cleaning, and dressing, and how a girl had to look to be a proper lady or whatever. She didn't really consider herself a 'proper lady' so she did her best to ignore it.
Except that peer pressure was something that, even while remote, occasionally affected Striders too. It wasn't too long that the girls started to sneer at her more than they usually would and talk about how 'she's not wearing a bra it's sooo obvious', 'oh my god what a slut', ' is she a lesbian? I think she's a lesbian', 'well she does dress like a boy', 'haha, might as well be one, do you see her legs?', 'eww gross! look at hair', 'Ugh, it's so disgusting, she really needs to take better care of herself'. She hated to admit it, because Striders don't let anything get to them, but eventually, the whispers grew to much, and she switched her shorts-- so much easier to move in, so much cooler in this heat-- for cargo pants that she found in the guys section at the Salvation Army. The best part was that it was getting ever so slightly colder as winter approached, so she got away without even an ironic eyelash bat from Bro.
Except that the shorts didn't return in the summer. She just kept wearing the jeans, even when the girls weren't around, and worried in her head about what random people on the street thought, wondered if it was really ok that she dressed like this, when all the girls she saw wore short skirts, and shortie shorts, dressed like hoes, and seemed to have no problem with taking an hour or two that could be better spent learning how to defend themselves just so that they could doll themselves up and sneer down at others because they dressed different.
She ignored it as best she could, but as Summer progressed, it only got hotter, and she found herself purposely getting drenched just to cool herself down, even if soaked denim put her at a disadvantage during the daily Strider strifes. And it would have continued that way if it weren't for Bro stepping in like he always did when she had a problem she was trying to hide.
"Does this color match my eyes?" he asked with a straight face as he held up some bright violet bullshit hair dye to his face. "I was thinkin' about dying my 'stashe,"
"Perf," she agreed with a nod, trying to hide a snort behind a twitch of her lips at the thought of her Bro having any sort of facial hair. She was betting on a pornstache dyed rainbow for the irony. She was looking around at the hair ties and wondered if they had enough for another ring of them-- how bro managed to cut the band and not her hair she would never know but god dammit it was frustrating-- when she saw Bro grab the brand box she used for her week long monthly get-out-of-strife-free pass and tossed it into their basket. He tossed a couple of bottles too, and some razors, but it wasn't anything new, Bro was always buying lotion, and he needed to keep his face clean somehow, and she paid it no mind. It was only after she came out from her room at 2 am from her intense internet Mario gaming session for some doritos and maybe whatever pizza was left over from dinner the prior night, when she found Bro pantsless, and sitting over the kitchen sink, half drenched, and with a couple of razors and the cream stuff sort of patchy on his legs. They were like any normal guy legs, but there were certain splotches that appeared baby smooth.
He glanced up at her after a moment and gave her a nod as he grabbed a razor and tried it out. "Hey squirt," he greeted, but she just looked on in confusion.
"What the hell are you even doing?" She asked, and it was more confused than any other tone she'd taken before, but she had nothing else to say and no other way to say it.
"Isn't it obvious?" He asked without looking up from his task, he didn't even flinch as he nicked himself for what seemed to be the fourth time if the little dots of toilet paper sticking to his legs meant anything. "'m shaving," He grabbed a washcloth and wiped off the blood as well as a cream paths, revealing few hairs underneath. It was really all she could do from asking in a more incredulous manner.
"... why?"
"Gotta win Miss Texas somehow, and thigh-highs just don't look as good without baby smooth skin underneath,"
She blinked a bit, but it wasn't to hard for her to catch on, and honestly, she wasn't sure how she'd even thought she'd hidden her discomfort from him. He always knew everything. "But they don't start that for another few months," she murmured as she walked onto the tile, her arms crossed and her jean cuffs dragging the ground. "So why now?"
"Practice makes perfect, Dove," he said as he rubbed off the rest of the cream and leaving splotchy patches of white skin beneath. "'sides, jeans are easier to deal with without insulation." He looked up and held out the razor to her after nicking himself again. It made her giggle only because he was so good at not damaging his face, and she was half tempted to believe he was only injuring himself to make her feel better. "Wanna try?"
'No thanks,' was on the tip of her tongue, jumping, hopping, just waiting to spring out so she could grab some pizza and abscond the hell out of there... but this was her Bro, and he'd never been one to care what she looked like as long as she was happy, so she took the razor-- fresh from the package, she noticed-- and waited for him to go back to dabbling at dots of blood before she slipped off her jeans and let them pile on the floor. Bro scooted over and she hopped on up, and she watched him for a minute, tried to see how he moved the blade, before reaching out herself, and shakily pressing it to her skin.
Or at least she would have if Bro hadn't let loose a torrent of water from a smuppet he just so happened to be using as a sponge. She shrieked, because hell, that was cold, and he just laughed at her with that insufferable smirk of his that she hadn't quite mastered yet. "Gotta get it we first," he said, handing her the smuppet so she could do more then douse her let in a torrential stream. "Don't want ya cutting yourself on the first go," She nodded, a bit reluctant, but Bro shaved his face all the time, and shaving your face couldn't be too much different from shaving your legs, or your pits, so she wiped her leg down before she picked up the razor again, and made the first tentative swipe.
She'd only realized she'd closed her eyes when she'd opened them again, and found a small patch of hairless skin on her leg, surrounded by a forest of barely noticeable white-blonde. She blinked at it, and held the razor up to her face to see the hair and collected on the blades. "There ya go," Br o said with a gentle nudge of his shoulder to hers. "Wasn't so hard, was it?"
"No, I guess not," she murmured before dunking it in the sink to clean it and swiping it over again.
They experimented with all the stuff Bro had bought, deciding that the cream was worthless, all it did was irritate the skin both while it was working and after it was done-- It was really Bro who had decided this, because it agitated his skin both during and after the process in which it worked. Plus it didn't work all too well, and Dove's skin was more sensitive to his and he didn't want her to suffer through any stupid rash, thank god he'd only patched it--, and the shave gel, while fun to make shapes with and throw at each other, was something that they didn't really need. They both had steady enough hands to avoid too much nicking, and while it did make things easier, they could make due without. It was only after their legs were both clean and white as a newborn babe that they cleaned up their mess, dried off before retiring to the futon where Cal waited with a bottle of cocoa butter and mango lotion. "To keep it baby butt smooth," Bro had said as they tried to get passed the shivers the cold lotion brought them before they lounged and played video games in their underwear.
And for the rest of the summer, they kept themselves shaved, because it really did make things cooler, and that helped with mid-day strife's a lot, but once autumn rolled around, Dove started to worry again about what the other kids at school would say if she stopped. It was a bigger fear than she wanted, but when they were at the store, Bro asked specifically if they needed to get 'any of this' for the next month or if it was cold enough.
"Nah," She murmured, not too sure of herself, but certainly sounding it. "It's cold enough,". When she'd woken up for school that following day, Bro had a pair of comfortable knee shorts laid out for her on the edge of her bed, as well as a note. She tried them on, and looked herself over in the mirror, unsure if she was ok with the fact that the hair was a little more than just noticeable thanks to Thanksgiving break. She was sure those bitches at school would talk, and she hate hate hated anything that even came out of their mouths nowadays. She shuffled a bit, almost ready to go and grab some jeans form the closet, but there was a crinkle in the back pocket, and when she reached inside, she found a note addressed to her in bright orange glitter gel pen.
Hey Pancake, saw these and thought you'd like them, all plaid and shit. You should wear them, show those posers at school just what it means to have style. Have a good day at school. You remember how to suckerpunch, right? I'm sure I taught you that. Cal says aim for the ribs, that hurts the most.
(P.S. WE'LL GO ANYWHERE YOU LIKE FOR DINNER IF YOU WIN, HEE HEE)
Dove blinked and smiled to herself before folding it up and placing it back into her pocket, grabbing her backpack and heading to school with her head held high, despite her earlier fears.
Needless to say Bro bought her an extra special celebration sundae at Denny's that night for dessert.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 05:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 05:11 am (UTC)sides we need to make a blog for the whole thing first
make it official
and right now im putting together trivia for the pannel
no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 05:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-14 05:24 am (UTC)pap
call down bro
its ok
it'll be on soon lemme just get these questions put together