OMFG: Sons of Anarchy Fanfic

My Sons of Anarchy withdraw continues to rage and it has driven me to desperate measures.  That's right:  fanfic.  I was a fanfic virgin.  I probably wouldn't have sought it out unless @Cassismyname hadn't dangled it right in front of me during a weak moment.  So this little gem from the underbelly of the Sons of Anarchy fandom is called "Charming Pawse."  You can find Book 1 of Charming Pawse here.  Just for clarity, any excepts from the actual story are italicized in block text.


So the whole premise of this work is that a recent widow moves to Charming opens up a very cat-friendly coffee shop and finds tru lruv with Tig.  Unsurprisingly her name is Cat, she likes to wear a lot of black clothes, and she rides some sort of crotch-rocket bike. In describing her plans for her coffee shop in downtown Charming she says:

There would be no high speed wireless internet, but she did set up a trio of computers with internet access. She also took the precaution of putting blocks on the internet so youngsters couldn’t get onto any pornographic or other adult web sites.

Ut oh.  I thought fanfic was supposed to be naughty.  I didn't really know that kids spent a lot of time drinking coffee and searching for porn in public places but whatever.  This is starting to read like fanfic my mother would write.     


So Cat gets her business open and Tig comes in for coffee.  Black coffee.  I think that makes sense and is consistent with his character.  After a few curious encounters our heroine, she insists on calling Tig "Mr. Trager" and it warms the cockles of his creepy, animal and corpse fucking heart.  

‘Mr. Trager’, he thought to himself, allowing the bike to idle for a few moments. It had been a long time since anyone had referred to him as ‘Mr. Trager’, except in court where there was no respect in the use of the title.

Okaaaaay.  (Also, that is not my terrible punctuation.)  That totally doesn't sound like Tig to me at all but what the fuck do I know.  Also, I should watch my language because Cat doesn't like profanity:  

“What the fuck?!?”

“Tsk-tsk” she remarked in response to his ‘F bomb’. “Watch the language, please. I’ve found that ‘frack’ makes a good substitute when one is in mixed company.”

Mom?  Are you sure you're not writing this?  I know I programmed the SOA season pass on your Tivo but really I did that for Dad.   Frak is some way for nerds to tell other nerds that they watch the same show when they are fake cursing.  


So, blah, blah blah 10 minutes, a few appearances by Chibs in the coffee shop for tea, a vodka martini for me, and a LOT of skimming later, Cat gets a flat tire on her rice burner and guess who shows up to help this damsel in distress?  That would be Mr. Trager.  And after some totally epic fail attempts at making Cat sound like an independent woman who can take care of herself, she hops on the back of Mr. Trager's bike and they head back to town.  

The roar of the engine and her headache lulled her to sleep. Trager felt her body relax against his and raised a hand to check her hold. He found her fingers were still locked into his vest, holding on as if for dear life.

He could feel her even breathing as she slept. He liked how she felt against him. She might be older than he preferred, but she had a lot going for her, and she fit quite nicely against his back.

Oh. Dear. God.  It's beginning.  I can sense the sexing coming.  

He’d told her she should stay away from him and left her. Kiss or no kiss, she doubted he’d be back. She was just making a mountain out of an ant hill.

What the fuck is this?  Fucking Twilight?  Please don't let it be all chaste and angsty.  I was really hoping it would take some gnarly turn where Tig slips Cat some Ruffies so he can role play that she is the corpse he felt up in Season 1. Not that I'm into that but if you are going to write some Tig fanfic, then write some sick Tig fanfic.  The way this is going, it seems like Tig is more Edward Cullen than the Alex Trager we've come to know and fear/love.  MOM?  Are you sure you're not writing this??!?!?!  WAIT:

Cat surrendered herself to whatever was going to come.

And boy, did she ever.  In a shower scene.  Go read it.  Because really, I feel like I am going to have to bathe in Clorox now and slather on Purell afterwards.  Now, I don't know if the author did this on purpose to make up for the Epic Shower Scene of Tru Lurv, but the the succeeding story elements made me laugh so hard that the LSH took my second martini away: 

• A road trip in a PT Criuser (which is what the LSH's mom drives) where Tig complains about how the bucket seats get in the way of extracurriculars.  Clearly he a fan of this song.    
• Gifts of cat themed jewelry. Aside:  What the fuck is it with cat people and cat themed tchotchkes? I just don't get it.
• A family history of mental illness, which isn't funny but how the author manages to bring in Post Traumatic Stress disorder is highly questionable.

And then something happened that made me DIE with laughter:

“Either you snuck your knife in here, or you must be glad to see me,” she grinned impishly.

The LSH actually had to peel me off the floor and revoke my vodka privileges for the rest of the night. Damnit. But it was THE cliche. But with a KNIFE. Which if you think about it is kind of fucking sick and scary. Even scarier: CAT AND MR. TRAGER GOT MARRIED and then went to see some Phantom of the Opera bullshit. What year is it? 1993? POTO? (Actually, go read that recap of Phantom of the Opera for much lolz). Really?


Basically, at this point in my read of Charming Pawse, Book 1, (OMFG I can't believe there is more of this shit. I'm so not going to read any more of it after this. There is only so much one person can take with or without vodka.) I've laughed, been appalled, I've questioned whether my mother has written this drivel. But then THIS happens:

Despite her gastrointestinal distress, she didn’t refuse him. He needed her to flush out whatever was troubling him, and so she willingly submitted to him.

“It didn’t hurt, that’s the thing. Being a little physically sore isn’t hurt. You didn’t hurt me where it counts, dammit!” She was crying from frustration now, and that just made her more frustrated.

Wait.  What.  Hold up.  Now kids, I know they don't teach this in 5th grade family living class but sex while having gastrointestinal issues is NOT ADVISABLE under any conditions because (correct me if I'm wrong here) sex is about mutual pleasure and not trying to make sure you don't shit the bed.  But wait, there's more!  Can we please get over the rape/pain fantasy mythology of sex?  It's discomforting to know that at least in this one case of poorly written infuriating fanfic the myth lives on, promulgating the belief that it's totally okay to have sex, even if you don't want to, because your partner requires some release.  NOT HEALTHY.  Also-also IT TOTALLY COUNTS if a man gives you an unintentional episiotomy and you CRY as a result of it.  YOUR LADY PARTS COUNT AS MUCH AS HIS NEED FOR "RELEASE."  DUMBASS.  


I'm done with this shit.  I'm so unbelievably pissed.  And there is no way that Mom-Kayteadee would ever write this. Is if fucking September yet?  Jesus H. Tapdancing Christ.  Where the hell is my bottle of vodka?