𝒸𝕆Ň𝓽Δ𝔠ᵗ 👌😈

[oorah]

𝓜𝓻. 𝓜𝓪𝔂𝓸𝓻

𝖙𝖊𝖝𝖙, 𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖔 (𝔲𝔫;𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖉𝖔𝖌)

𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 (𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖋𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊)

𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖈𝖑𝖚𝖇 𝖛𝖕 (𝔰𝔞𝔣𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔢)

𝖈𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖊𝕮𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝕶𝖔𝖚𝖙 (𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔯)

𝖔𝖈𝖈𝖚𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 (𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖍 : ₁₀₋₃ | 𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖑 : ₁₁₋₇ | 𝖋𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖕)

𝖛𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖗 (𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔬𝔫, 𝔠𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔠, 𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔩)

Comments

[underachievement]

[ Jess gives him a nudge with her leg, which neither disturbs nor dislodges him. Dogs don't get insomnia, as far as she knows, so he can't be too tired to swap company. Must be putting down what Frank's picking up on, if she's to defer to his knowledge. Not like it's the dog's fault. They take after their (dumb) owners. ] What's his name?

[oorah]

[ a smile curves his lips as he opens his eyes again. ] Max.

[underachievement]

Frank n' Max. [ she muses with a mocking pout. Max audibly snuffles at the repetition of his name and she pets him down reflexively.

They sound like a pair of trenchcoat-wearing detectives or hippie wives. He's done a good job here of cultivating a reliable reputation. She doubts anyone would believe her if she told them who the Punisher was at home, now that she's figured it out. Between the two of them, she's done more to earn the title since they've arrived. ] Yours from home?

[oorah]

[ he shrugs again. that's them, as simple and americana as it gets. her question isn't met with his usual hesitation. even if she hasn't figured out who he is, she of all people deserves the truth. he tips his head as if he isn't sure whether to answer yes or no, they're both right to an extent. ]

I saved him from the Kitchen Irish. [ a beat ] Or maybe he saved me.

[ it's not a cheesy rescue dog slogan when frank says it. he literally means they would both have a bullet in their heads if they hadn't unwittingly worked together. ]

[underachievement]

[ Sounds cheesy but she doesn't doubt it's literal. Kitchen Irish, that was on Daredevil's beat, not hers. She'd rather fight the Hand again than take on the mob or some government conspiracy bullshit -- but then, if either ever came after Trish, she wouldn't have the luxury of a choice. Jess keeps thinking she's just too tired to be disgusted by who he is and that she'll work it up eventually. ]

Think animals reset? [ she poses lightly, regarding Max as she scratches gently through his fur. ]

[oorah]

[ the question has him immediately looking down at max and frowning. ] Not looking to find out. [ frank takes his hand out of his pocket to scratch max's back. he'd taken extreme precautions to make sure max survived here. he's a Dog Person. ]

[underachievement]

Yeah. [ she reassures Max, corroborating Frank's hollow promise by implication. a dog doesn't know when it's being lied to or care when someone breaks their word. if she weren't so debilitatingly terrified of having full accountability for another living thing, she would probably have had a few. ]

Is there anyone left for them to spring on you?

[oorah]

[ what a question. he swallows, fingers tightening in max's short fur as he regards her across the scant space. does she mean... all the people he's killed? or maybe his squad, his brothers? foggy nelson would probably be an annoyance for both of them. and he doesn't dare think -- not even in hypothetical. ]

Yeah. Always is, right? [ it's gravelly and he looks down at max rather than at her. ]

[underachievement]

[ She's thought about it and the only active risk is Malcolm. Her family is buried in the past, stored somewhere in cardboard boxes, Ruben barely knew her, and Hope deserves her ill-won peace. Just like Jessica deserves to be here paying for it, again and again, like a bad dream. Giving purpose to random circumstances isn't a sign of her staunch independence slipping, not if she's sane enough to know it might be. ]

I don't know. I had it good for a while there. [ She cocks her head at Max, as though her present and could confirm her solid job of pushing people away. ]

[oorah]

[ that gets a shallow smile as he slowly forces his gaze back up to hers. ] You had the right idea. Just never could get a grip on it. [ pushing everyone away. clearly, he sucks at it. ]

[underachievement]

[ Jess smiles guardedly too. He's right, and she has plenty of other crap to be in denial about. Maybe if Trish had shown up earlier, she wouldn't have had to forge this weird working friendship but probably not. Probably things would have played out the same but worse. If Trish has to be here, she and Jess are both fortunate that she arrived no sooner than she did. ]

It's my one weakness. [ And now it's Kevin's: with every person immunized, she turns the threat away from herself, from everyone that's vulnerable. She'll keep him ignorant as long as possible even if it means putting up with his shitass messages in her inbox. ]

[oorah]

What, being a dick? [ he nudges her ankle with his and makes a face like he isn't convinced. because he isn't. she cares a lot more than she lets on, and not just about her sister. ]

[underachievement]

[ Her gaze is dragged over to him for the first time in what feels like minutes. ] Giving a shit. [ They both know she excels at being a dick, thank you no thank you. Accordingly, no one's called her hero in a while, so that's nice. ]

[oorah]

[ the bluntness actually makes him shrink away a little, though he holds her eyes. and slowly frank nods his understanding. ] A brother of mine -- a guy I served with, he told me I cared too much. We were commanding a unit together, our only job was getting those people home to their families. I cared too much.

[ frank shakes his head, like he still doesn't understand. it's clear by now himself and billy are woven from different cloths, but that isn't what's confusing. how he went from a selfish asshole kid to someone who would die for his unit, him. frank castle. that's what he still doesn't get. ]

You're doing okay, Jess. A lot better than most people would do.

[underachievement]

[ Right, because before he was Resident Dad he was the Punisher, and before he was the Punisher he was Rambo. If she had the internet as a resource here, she would have researched him inside out several times over, right down to his wife's secret Pinterest board. Without the option, she cuts down her assumptions until they fit the puzzle. He had someone to defend, way back, but all he's left behind is a fugitive's life, and maybe one day, he'll end up the same way in this place.

Weird thing to hope for while he's extending some battlefield kindness, but there's comfort in knowing what his worst will be. She can still put down the Punisher, if necessary, and god knows he can protect himself from the mundane threats. It's up to him to separate that life from the one he's building here, to monitor himself for inevitable breaches. He's a piece of shit, like her. Just better at playing it down around civilians. She prefers to alienate them, and the ones that refuse to comply -- well, she never stops trying to save a life.

Jess isn't hesitant in leaning across and putting her lips to his even though she thinks he's more likely to push her away. It would be better for him if he did, she's only tried to drill that into his head since day one. And if he doesn't, she doesn't really want him to. There's a well of aggression and helplessness she can't spar out like so many others, that she hasn't gone to in too long for fear of spreading her poison. Some hot, rough sex would be nice right now, is all. ]

[oorah]

[ the sudden jostle of her weight forward throws him, and for a split second he thinks she might be about to hit him. his hand grapples for purchase against her side as the movement pushes him back into the pillows and away from max. the dog throws them a wary glance but seems content to ignore them, slinking further away.

frank's heart is already pounding, beating a loud rhythm up into his throat as her soft lips press against his. but the contact itself is hard, nearly biting in its desperation. it leaves him breathless in seconds, even as he tries to push into the kiss and give back what he's being given. it's imperfect and sloppy but the moment he has it he knows he doesn't want to let it (or her) go. which is exactly what clues him into the fact that it's wrong.

he starts deliberately putting space between them as he tries to catch his breath, though one broad hand is still caught at her waist. and when their lips come apart with a quiet smacking, his eyes are wide and wild as they struggle to focus on hers. he's confused, as much as he isn't. he should have figured this out a long time ago, and as he runs his tongue along his lower lip to catch her residual taste, he wonders what this is for her. he's "safe" now, right? is that all this is? ]

[underachievement]

[ Safe is all it can be and this is still all she can give. If Kilgrave finds out she slept with someone, he might have them mutilate or kill themselves, but if he knows she has legitimate feelings for them, he'll do what he did to Luke. If he can't influence them directly, it will motivate him to get more creative. But Jess hasn't gotten that careless since Luke (rightfully) left and she doesn't see the Punisher breaking her streak. The safeguard against a relationship is just another way in which he's her best bet.

She topples him softly, letting him fool her into thinking respite can be this easy for as long as it takes him to come to senses. Not long enough. She supports herself on her forearm but their chests barely part. ]

It doesn't have to be complicated. [ Jess strains not to sound annoyed, slinking her hand around the back of his neck. Her body drinks up the heat of his skin through their clothes, she's been so parched for contact. He is too or he would have shoved her off immediately. ]

[oorah]

[ it isn't that safe isn't enough. safe is good, he knows. near impossible for her in the past. but he worries about that too, about not measuring up. the second she touches him, he leans in and effectively closes the distance he'd just put between them. it's obvious he wants this -- that he wants her, but it can't be so simple for him. he doesn't know how it can be for her. his thumb rubs against her hipbone idly and he bites into his lip as he regards her, words caught in his throat. she's practically throwing herself at him, a woman he'd admired and perhaps even coveted from the moment he saw her; but what she says makes his heart drop into his toes. ]

Pretty sure that ship sailed. [ an instant rejoinder, and if he sounds a little hurt, well. he is, even if he doesn't want to put that on her. none of this has ever been her fault, least of all his feelings for her. those had crept up on him as it was, but when his gaze falls to her full lips again he knows he can't reject her. at least, not now. he'd have to work up to it, and that, apparently, starts with a kiss. the way he kisses her is much more deliberate, firm but gentle. his eyes shut again as he leans into the lines of their bodies and tries not to count how long it's been since he was with someone (his wife) this way. ]

[underachievement]

[ He sounds a little hurt, but then he often looks a little hurt, and that glances right off her armour too. Frank gets hurt, it's what he does. If he's willing to be her whetstone, he knows her well enough not to expect her to save him from himself. He's as clearheaded as he's ever been and she's livably drunk, like always. It's not her problem if he's learning as he goes to compartmentalize his kind of obvious and very, very ill-advised feelings for her. Acting in cruel ignorance of them may just drive the point home that they'd be better directed literally anywhere else.

As they slide to the top of his spine, his hair curls around her fingers. It suited him when it was shorter, in their first month, but regardless of how it looks, it feels soft as hell pooling against her palm. Her nails are blunted to the rounds of her fingertips from constant construction work; the callouses on her thumbs, chipping away in dry layers, are likely to scratch him deeper than them, when she rakes them carefully against his scalp. He tastes like coffee, which she ran out of not long ago, and she sinks her teeth shallowly into his bottom lip, bidding him to open up for more. Bitch is tired. ]

[oorah]

[ frank has always been good at getting hurt, especially if it meant saving others from the trouble. is it any surprise that holds true now even when he's getting what he wanted? or, what he didn't even know he wanted until he was getting it, more accurately. she tastes like bourbon and try though he might to stifle the sound against her mouth, he issues a low moan at the way her fingers catch against his scalp. it doesn't have to be complicated. it echoes in his mind even as he knows every word to be a lie. his fingers work under her shirt anyway, his own callouses sliding over the base of her spine while he opens his mouth to her. it's easy to lose himself here, and to forget why he'd been trying to stop it.

a sharp intake of breath can be heard over the din of the rain as she bites into his lip and his mouth opens even wider in invitation, his other hand finding her shoulder and roughly holding on. his tongue darts out to meet hers willingly and active thoughts about feelings or relationships are easily pushed aside. maybe they can just stay like this a while, and it can be uncomplicated. that doesn't make either of them a bad person; but maybe everything else they've done does. those things don't have room in this space either, he's decided without thinking about it. ]