graveflowers | i'm fine, the female code for i want to punch you in the dick

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roleplay } with jake

i'm fine, the female code for i want to punch you in the dick

"Jake, you can't just spend the rest of your life in this cabin like the freakin' Unabomber." It wasn't the best argument, really, but she needed to go to the store and he needed to come with her. It was a dress for his family's Christmas party and since Vi's idea of a formal dress was more along the lines of a sundress, she really did need his opinion on the matter.

Of course, Jake's reply was so grumbled and quiet that she couldn't hear him very well through the wall separating their rooms, even with both their doors open. She thought she heard something about how she would be beautiful no matter what she wore, but she mostly ignored that, putting the compliment aside to thank him for later.

"Look," she started, padding barefoot into his room as she pulled her tee shirt over her head, slicking her ponytail back. It was Jake's shirt, actually, an old Army shirt she'd found when she was doing laundry and just taken for herself. It was big on her, he was after all, roughly the size of Gaston -- who was roughly the size of a barge -- and she was the size of an elf, but she tucked it in to her jeans and still managed to look adorable. "It's just one hour and, I dunno, I'll buy you some beer on the way home." Because it was home now, even if she was protesting his holing up in it. "Consider it therapy."

Jake frowned at her, looking not at all pleased with her idea of therapy.

"No, seriously. You've spent the last three months with just me, you're used to me and I'm used to you and we have a system, but its our system. You've got to learn how to navigate people who don't give a shit about your injuries and how to move amongst a crowd or what are you going to do next weekend?"

"Violet, I'm going to be on the couch the whole time."

Her hands went to her hips as her eyes narrowed slightly -- she really wasn't fond of when he used her full name. She knew he wasn't having the best day and she knew pushing him for this could just devolve into a fight, but it was true. He needed to get out of the house. Not even for the interaction, because she highly doubted he would actually talk to anyone, but because he needed to be able to navigate around people. And more importantly, he needed to feel comfortable doing it before he went home to his family. If a stranger saw him stumble, it would be far less embarrassing than if his family saw him stumble. "Jacob, I'm not kidding."

"Violet, I'm not going."

There was silence for a moment, Vi's lips twisting in displeasure. It wasn't a scowl so much as a disappointed frown. "Fine. Then I'm not going to Christmas. Have fun."

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He looked up from the book he wasn't really reading, surprise on his features. She'd already agreed to go back with him for Christmas. His family was looking forward to properly meeting her--his mother had only met her the once when she'd interviewed her, his brothers had helped 'pick' her out via google and the beauty of the internet. A part of him jumped to take back his refusal to go before his gut twisted at the idea of going out into public, into a crowd. He'd look ridiculous, hobbling with a cane. He could fall. Someone could bump into his left side. He could fall and knock someone else down with him. There were a hundred reasons why he didn't want to go out. The biggest reason being that he didn't want someone to ask why he had to walk with a cane or why he was hurt.

After a moment of stunned silence, he growled and turned his attention back to his book. The idea of Vi not going to Christmas with him hurt and that made him wall everything up inside of himself and go cold. "Fine. I'll call a car service and get a wheelchair."

"Good," she snapped back, exhaling sharply as tears pricked at her eyes. She could have easily countered every single one of his fears, but she never got the chance.

Turning on her heel, she quickly walked back to her room, petty enough to slam the door behind her before she threw herself on the bed covering her head with one of the many pillows and tugging a blanket over her.

She hated fighting with Jake, hated how stubborn they both were. She knew she could have just left to go to the store on her own, and really the sales clerks could have helped her well enough, that was what they were paid for, but she didn't want to leave him when they were in the middle of fighting.

Part of it was because she knew Jake wouldn't have liked that, but the other part was that Vi never left anyone when she was mad at them. She'd yelled at her mother right before she'd walked out and gotten into a car accident. Violet's last words to her mother were 'I hate you', she wasn't ever willing to go through that again to prove a point.

Instead, she tried to burrow into the bed, hoping maybe it was swallow her whole, that would be nice.

Jake had a hard time admitting his fears, sometimes even to himself. When Violet slammed out of the room, he didn't call a car service right away. He didn't do anything. He sat there and stewed. He sat there and hated himself for fighting with Violet. He sat there and swallowed fear that Violet would leave him. He sat there and hated himself.

He didn't know what he was waiting for, why he was stewing, letting his thoughts tangle up, feelings a mishmash that he couldn't seem to get a hold on. He rested the back of his head against the wall, his eyes closed tightly. Jake could hold a grudge; his anger could simmer for months, years even, if necessary. His anger could be destructive, mostly to himself. His pride, his stubbornness and his fear all warred to keep him silent, but since Violet had been living with him, she'd started working on some softer part of him and that part couldn't keep quiet. It took a long while, but finally he banged his head against the wall. It was a sort of knocking without the struggle of getting up.

"Vi! I'll go to the fucking store with you," he yelled, probably loud enough to bother the people on the other side of the wall and possibly above his room as well.

Vi didn't reply immediately, still upset and frustrated. She hated that her temper had gotten the best of her, but she couldn't help it, Jake brought out her emotions, even the crappy ones.

She stayed burrowed in the bed, leeching some comfort of being warm and comfortable to counteract feeling like crap for not just letting Jake have his way on this one. Especially as it was something that was relatively unimportant. Eventually, she knocked back.

Short long long. Short short short short. Long short long long.

It was Morse code. "Why."

If asked, and given some time to think about it, Jake would rather bring out Vi's emotions than not rouse any emotions in her.

It was a relief when she knocked back, even before he realized what she was asking. He relaxed a bit as she knocked back, spelling out her question.

"Because I'm an asshole and I don't want you to be pissed at me for it," he yelled back. Spelling it out in morse code would hurt his head way too much and he liked sitting there like a lump on the bed for the moment. He reasoned that he was conserving energy. He was apparently going fucking shopping soon.

"No you're not!" She shouted it back, finally pulling her head out from underneath the pillow. After a moment, she rolled off the bed and walked back to his room, bringing the blanket with her. She perched on the edge of his bed.

She sat there quietly for a moment, looking at the floor. "I'm not pissed at you, I'm just... mad, that you won't try." There was a difference between being made at him and being mad in general. He shouldn't have to have trouble with something simple as shopping, it wasn't fair.

He was quiet a moment, watching her. He didn't know what he was supposed to say or how he was supposed to respond. It wasn't shopping that was the problem. It was the crowds. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Trying is...hard." He struggled, knowing he needed to give her more than that. She deserved more than that. "What if...it could be a disaster."

Violet sighed, turning slightly to look at him before abandoning her perch and crawling across the bed to sit next to him, her long legs stretched out next to his. As much as she compared herself to a Hobbit she wasn't really that short, and still he managed to be so much taller than her, even sitting she felt dwarfed.

"It could," she conceded, resting her hand softly against his leg. She wasn't going to lie to him, false assurances weren't her thing. "But it could also not be a disaster. Not trying is just setting yourself up to fail."

"I'm pretty sure with the invention of the internet, I can get by without trying." Jake was content to be a hermit, at least now. Maybe, one of these days he'd want a more public life, but right now he was happy with his solitude.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "People stare at a twenty-six year old man with a cane." They also wanted to know how he got hurt, why he had a cane and he didn't want to talk about either of those things, not now, not ever.

"That's because you've not got to try dresses on." Jake might be content with being a hermit, and really she was too or she would have gone insane the past three months, but there were somethings she couldn't get around. Having to try on a dress was one of those things. Especially as she was not commonly prone to wearing dresses, she basically needed someone else to tell her what looked nice and whether something was so short it made her look like a prostitute.

"Yeah, 'cause you're fucking gorgeous." It just slipped out of her mouth, she hadn't even thought about it, but it was true so she didn't bother taking it back. She did, however, take his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Jake, can I be perfectly honest with you?"

She had a point. He spent his entire life in shorts, sweats and track pants. Jake was going to wear his dress uniform because he wasn't sure he could get out of it. His parents and his brothers wouldn't understand why he didn't want to wear it and at the end of the day, they were clothes. They didn't reflect who he was or what he'd done (or didn't do). Besides, he was hoping he could slip out of the Christmas party early, ditch the uniform and hang out in the basement playing video games.

Her compliment brought a ghost of a smile to his lips. He knew that wasn't the reason people stared (at least in his opinion) but arguing with her on something like that was pointless. He squeezed her hand back. "Yeah. I'd rather have it that way."

Vi would protest that the clothes did reflect who he was, a man who would lay down his life to protect someone else's liberties, a hero, but she had learned to bite her tongue about that long ago. Jake wouldn't believe her anyway, not until he forgave himself a little.

"Babe, you're like a six foot five block of Swedish muscle. If anyone stares, well, they're not going to stare for long." She didn't really think people would stare, children perhaps, but in her experience, people were used to seeing the reality of war now and people had learned how to bite their tongues. "And I'll be there, so you know, when in doubt, they're probably just staring at my perfect rack."

He said she could be perfectly honest.

Any other time, any other man, Jake would agree with her. Because of what had happened, Jake wouldn't believe that those words and those ideas applied to him. He'd been doing a job and he hadn't done it very well, in his opinion.

He grumbled a bit at her comment about his physique. She had a point though, he usually glared at people who stared for very long, children aside. He smirked and rolled his eyes at the bit about her rack. It made him feel a tiny bit better. "So what you're saying, is that you and your perfect rack are going to run interference for me?"

He did and he preferred it that way.

"Yes, basically." She shrugged a bit. She didn't think it would be incredibly hard for him physically, he had made tremendous strides, whether he noticed it or not. Mentally though, she was sure it was going to be rough on him, which was why she was trying to lighten the mood. With her boobs. She was working with what she had.

"For what it's worth, I think you'll be fine, but I really need your help with the dress. I don't know what I'm supposed to get, or do, or say. Your family is huge and scary. I don't want to fuck up."

It probably wouldn't, and if that were the point he'd be a little easier to talk into going. Mentally was going to be hard. He didn't deal well with crowds or Christmas. Shopping would be packed with both. He appreciates her tactics. He always has.

"Vi, disregarding all the other things you have going for you, which are numerous and I'll list out for you if you like, I could show up with a hooker I'd literally picked up off the street five minutes before and my family would love her because I'm out of the house and apparently, in their minds, my dick still functions or I have hope that it will in the future because I'm bringing a girl home."

"You might want to start running through that list of shit I have going for me because you did not just compare me to a prostitute. So since I like you I'm going to let you rewind that whole thing and start over again."

For some reason she was not really flattered by the idea that she was so easily replaced by a hooker and that Jake and his family would be a-okay with it.

Nor was the okay with the idea that his family thought she stuck around to pander to his dick. Actually there was nothing about that whole thing she was okay with. And the thought that his family might think she was basically a paid for prostitute made her want to cry, making her bite her lip and look down to keep them at bay. Fuck that.

He'd been trying to make her feel better about meeting his family so for a minute he was a little confused about why she looked like she was going to cry. He reached out to grab her hand, in an attempt to pull her closer to him.

"Vi...I just--Fuck. I screwed that up." He took a deep breath. "You're amazing. You're kind and generous, patient, beautiful, funny, friendly and you make me happier than I thought I'd ever be after the accident. Screw that, sometimes you make me happier than I ever thought I'd be. Period. And the only reason I say sometimes is because then I start feeling like a guilty asshole for even beng happy at all when there are seven other guys who won't ever be happy again. You've helped me physically and mentally and emotionally and they're going to love you. No matter what you show up in."

He paused, looking at her seriously for a moment. "Did I do better that time?"

"Yeah."

She still sounded sad, but she managed a smile. She hadn't really thought about what his family would think of her. It made sense though, sadly, that they would think she was hanging around for sex. Well, except his mother, who had sweetly included condoms in her next shipment of supplies after Vi had quit. Vi had quickly emailed her to tell her that they didn't actually need the condoms because she would not be having sexy with Mrs Safstrom's son.

But his brothers, his dad... they could think the worst.

And now she actually didn't want to go. Not just as a threat.

He pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Vi. I was trying to take the pressure off you and I ended up insulting you and I didn't mean to do that. They're going to love you. They're going to think you're just as amazing as I think you are and they're going to wonder why you haven't dumped my sorry ass yet because you're way too good for me."

"I know, it's okay. Thank you, for all the nice things you said." She sighed a little, resting her head against his shoulder. "I haven't had a real Christmas in like... sixteen years? So I'm sort of nervous, about that, on top of meeting your family."

She knew then, that she wasn't going to the mall that day because now she just wanted to go back to bed. Jake did need to learn how to maneuver a crowd, but they could just as easily do it tomorrow.

Another sigh. "I think I'm going to take a nap." She made no move to actually move though, staying leaning against him.

He ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her as well as he could. "You'll have fun. When we get there we'll decorate the tree and there will be a ton of food to eat. We'll play games after that; Dad is a horrible cheat. He calls it taking advantage of opportunity; it's cheating. When we get up on Christmas Day we'll have this breakfast casserole my mom always makes and open presents, eat some more, watch movies. When we were kids we'd go to Disneyland that night, but I think this year we're just staying home."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I used to love Christmas. I'm nervous about it this year too. Not about you meeting my family. Just about Christmas in general."

It was soothing and she relaxed against him, closing her eyes and shifting slightly so she could drape her arm across his waist. Mostly the soothing part what how he talked about his family, so fondly. She didn't talk about her dad fondly and she never talked about her mother, the most she remembered telling Jake about her family was that her grandparents raised her and that was why she became a physical therapist, to help them for free. But they were Mexico on their semi annual cruise.

Though, hell, his brothers probably found out about her mom's accident and her dad's prolific rap sheet from the internet.

"That sounds really wonderful, actually. Sort of Normal Rockwellian. Kind of idyllic. I doubt it will be any different, though, well, I wouldn't know."

He was lucky and he fully realized he was lucky. Jake had a good family that loved him. They worried about him because they loved him. He was also aware that Vi hadn't been so lucky. She hadn't told him much about her family and he hadn't pushed because it seemed like a sore spot.

"If Rockwell had included four boys that cursed way too much to make their mother happy and a dad that cheated during Monopoly, yeah, pretty normal."

He said it in a fond, joking sort of voice.

It wasn't so much a sore spot as she had learned early on that it made people very uncomfortable. Some of the story wasn't pretty so Vi tried to protect people from that, keeping the bad parts bottled up.

"That actually makes it more normal sounding than a Rockwell painting," she protested, her hand absently patting around the bed until her fingers found the edge of the blanket and she pulled it back, wriggling her legs under it. She said she wanted a nap and she didn't want to move, so she compromised.

"My mom took me to Disneyland once, when I was nine. I didn't want to go on any of the rides, I just wanted to meet Belle because she was my favorite princess and she looked like me. She signed my little autograph book and I was so excited that I burst into tears and she hugged me. My mom just carried me out of the park like that, still crying. My mom bought two passes and we wound up being there for like, a half hour."

People were probably generally unsure about what to say to her about it. Did you comfort her? Or did you brush it off, acting as if it were normal because that had been her norm? It was one of those things that were impossible to know how to handle. Jake figured she knew by now that it sucked so, in his opinion, you said that it sucked and you moved on. You talked about it if she wanted to talk about it. Jake had enough bad parts to bottle up now that he understood that, but before he'd gone to war, he would have wanted to be protected from the bad parts of Vi's life as well.

"In that case, I guess we're utterly normal." He hesitated a moment, turning something over in his head before he spoke. "Do you want to go to Christmas as my girlfriend or my friend." Another pause. "Or my therapist?" They would tease her and him regardless, but going as his girlfriend would get her the most flack.

"That's awesome that your mom did that for you though." He paused because he knew what the offer he was about to make would require. "We can go if you want. Christmas Day, in the evening. We can rent one of those motorized scooter things and go to the front of the lines." They'd be stared at. People would say snarky things, at least until they saw him stand up with a cane and the help of his girlfriend. He was pretty sure he could deal with if for a few hours and that'd give her a chance to really look around and ride some of the rides.

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