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bubblyani · 4 years ago

Text

Back for Good

(Jim Davis x Reader)

A Jim Davis One Shot

Movie: Harsh Times (2005) by David Ayer

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Alcohol use, Swearing, Violence and Sexual Content

Word Count: 9k+

Summary: Your spirits are lifted when your older boyfriend Jim Davis returns from the Army for good. As the lovers passionately reunite, you begin to reminisce the first encounter, and the unforgettable event that sealed your fate with Jim, possibly forever.

Author’s Note: One of the fantastic Balehead Accounts on Instagram once posted a photo of Jim Davis with a caption more so along the lines of “…Older boyfriend Jim visiting you at College…”. It was too irresistible to ignore. So this story was born. @tammykelly You are an angel to even show some enthusiasm towards this, even before I started, Thank you for the encouragement ! Hope y’all enjoy!

P.S: If anyone want to be tagged in specific Bale! Character fics please do let me know. And if you wanna be removed from anything NOT BATMAN, please feel free to let me know. I understand completely.

Three.

It costed three people. Merely three for this nightmare scenario to enter reality.

A tall young man panted fast, his right hand assuming full responsibility for the broken bottle, not to mention the intense bleeding that resulted from it. All the while he stared down at his finished product: a much younger man. He watched the figure groan for his dear life, laying defeated and thoroughly bruised; as a weak stream of blood appeared prominent from his head as well, adding a splash of bright color to the dark and dusty pavement. Only in that moment, realization and bitter reality coupled up to surprise the standing man, with a sucker punch.

Which was transparent enough for the young woman beside them, the witness. Violence, Danger, her trembling heart sensed it all. For that was what his strong aura emitted. However, never did she flinch. Never did her heart consider retracting from him. On the contrary, she was compelled to trust him even further.

Especially when she sensed complete safety in him, above all others.

“Let’s go”

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(Present)

The dusky skies appeared just as serene over South Central Los Angeles as anywhere else in the country, filtering over the streets and the neighborhoods. Cruising through in favorable speed, Mike Alonzo finally took his eyes off the road, permitting them to land on the tall, young man sitting beside him on the passenger seat: his best friend, Jim Davis.

His downcast expression was evident, with his tall frame sunken into the seat. He stared right ahead, while he sipped his bottle of beer in his suit. This posture was nothing short of a surprise for Mike to glance upon. If he had squinted his eyes, he swore he could imagine Jim as the rebellious teenager he once was. Only with a new buzz cut. Otherwise, it seemed that nothing had really changed.

Except it had. Older and forced to be responsible, they were facing times considered very harsh. And Jim just had a taste of it.

“Sorry, dude”

Mike began, looking back at the road. Shaking his head with disbelief, Jim sat up in slow motion as his teeth began to grind.

“Man! Fuck…this...shit!!”

Jim drawled with disappointment, enunciating every word whilst holding up a piece of paper, “I’m so done with this cop hate bullshit!” He added, taking another sip of alcohol. Mike nodded:

“Yeah, dawg. Forget about that! ” He smiled, smacking his friend on his shoulder in a playful demeanor, “Hey, Syl is cooking tonight…You wanna join us, bro?”

The possibility of his girlfriend Sylvia agreeing to this, was at an all time low. Mike was well aware. Yet, he was certain it was a question worth posing to his friend in need.

“Nah, man! I got plans”

Hitting the brakes in front of the stop lights, Mike looked at his friend again with surprise, “Yeah?” He inquired, looking quite pleased. Finally flashing a proud smile, Jim nodded:

“Yep! Gonna go see my woman soon…” he answered. Eyes widening seemed appropriate for Mike at that very moment.

“Yo, No shit!” Mike cried out with excitement, finally stepping on the gas, “The chick from UCLA*? You…you still with her?” He inquired.

“Yeah, Homie! ”

“Dawg!…” laughing with sheer amazement, Mike looked at Jim, “I’m impressed…really” he added, proceeding to chuckle, “Look ‘atchu…my boi Jim....going steady with the fine ass college chick…”

“Whoo!” With his soul finally returning to his body, Jim howled, “Finer than fine, dawg!”

“Hell yeah!”

Given the state of hyped energy that erupted in the car between the two young men, it would be nearly impossible to guess how sombre it was just before. “So…so…” Mike continued, holding on to the wheel as they kept driving, “… where you gon’meet?”

“Well…actually…” Jim looked at him, licking his lips, “….it’s a surprise” he added with a playful smirk. To which Mike could not help but laugh, “What?” Mike paused, “You didn’t tell her you’re back for good?”

Seeing his friend shake his head like a naughty schoolboy forced him to laugh harder, “Ohohoho!! this is gon be one hell of a reunion, dawg” He added with sheer enthusiasm, “But seriously though, she’s a real good one too, bro…” Mike opinionated, as soon as his laughter died down, “ I mean, even Syl liked her”

“Shit! For real?”

“Yeah yeah yeah…” Mike answered immediately, “And you know Syl, she ain’t easy to please”

Gulping down the remnants of the bottle, Jim exhaled and stared out through the window, “Shit man!” He exclaimed, “I’m really gonna see her again, huh?”

With his tone growing deeper, his eyes began to burn with a flame that could only be categorized as lustful. Sensing the vibe that did not seem so new, Mike chuckled:

“Oh yeah! My homie’s gonna get it tonight! Salud*”

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The buzz, the chatter of young adults was consistent in the hallway outside. It served as background noise when the door of the toilet cubicle burst wide open, spitting a rather young woman out of it with haste. Only then did the mirror managed to identify her: You.

With your hand clutching on to a bra, you let out a relieved sigh. For within a few seconds, your body experienced a new form of liberation. And you managed to savor it on your own in a public ladies washroom. Wearing a soft smile that was easily reflected in the mirror, you stuffed the piece of lingerie into your shoulder handbag.

“Seriously?”

You jumped with a yelp. Being so wrapped around in your own thoughts, you did not even notice Yara, your friend standing there. With her arms folded and eyebrows raised, it was clear that her face was rife with judgement.

“What?” You inquired breathlessly, “Auntie Flo* is about to visit…and the twins were just swelling to …get some parole time” you added with a playful smirk, pointing at your chest with no shame. The curves of your now-freed bosom seemed more visible through your cardigan top, “And fuck! it feels so good” you exclaimed, as you washed your hands. Yara however, scoffed with amusement:

“So you’re saying you were squirming in your seat the whole time to let the puppies out?”

“What? I had to pee too!”

“Well, You could have just left right then!” She insisted with a seeming annoyance, as you grabbed a tissue.

“…and miss Mr. Linney’s Final Notes? Uh uh! No way, bitch!” You waved your index finger with disapproval as you both exited. Students had flooded the hallway by then. Evening lectures at UCLA finally had drawn to a close, and Friday night was about to make its entrance. Youth in all shapes and colors, gathered in bunches all over the campus area, even beside the beautifully lit Royce Hall. Suffice to say, all were relieved to have some time off in the weekend.

“So…you coming, right?”

You looked at Yara upon her casual inquiry with confusion, “For what?”. Scoffing again, this time in disbelief, Yara's eyes widened looking at you: “Dinner?…tonight?”

She stressed, taking a step out of the campus building, “Last week you promised you’ll join me and Chase” with her arms folded and foot tapping on the ground in pure restlessness, she was a clear visual of a loanshark. However, that impatience left her system the moment her eyes fell behind you,“…and speaking of Chase…Baby!”

With her face lit up, her tone grew affectionate as Chase, her boyfriend rushed over to her.

“ ‘sup babe!” The tall, young blonde greeted, pulling his ebony goddess of a girlfriend for a passionate kiss.

Folding your arms, you could not help but avert your eyes. All the while you drew circles with your foot on the ground. Chase and Yara’s relationship certainly was a refreshing one to glimpse upon in the campus premises. You approved of it with sincerity, even when you looked away in awkwardness. It was not on spite. Truthfully, PDA was nothing you disapproved of. You were certainly not envious of the joy they possessed as their lips played with one another, quite similarly to a steamy MTV music video. You merely looked away, for any display of affection was a sheer reminder of him.

It had been months since you last saw him, possibly 6. And constant communication was not exactly convenient for him. Not in his situation. Was he alive and happy? The sheer reminder of gunshots and helicopter whirring forced your heart to race, which was nothing short of new. Granted, you had learnt to ‘compartmentalize’, a term you recently came to knowledge in your psych minor class. Yet, you were young and only human to have those concerns return to haunt you even for a few seconds. The sound of Yara and Chase’s lips smacking urged you to look up. Finally, you thought.

“So?” Yara inquired, casually wiping the smudged lipstick off her face, “You coming?”

Carefree, yet extremely inconsiderate, that was what she exuded. A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach. For oddly enough, the sight of the happy couple managed to drain your energy out tonight. You longed to run away.

“Honestly…” you began with a sigh, “I don’t really feel so good tonigh-”

“¿Qué pasa, guapa?”

What’s up, gorgeous?

That voice. That deep, spine tingling tone was a reminder of your mere existence. The tone that tempted every hair in your body to stand at attention. Turning around in a flash, you covered your mouth, shocked to find the person you prayed to see all this time.

“JIM??” You cried out in a muffled tone, “Oh my GOD!!-”

Squealing in pure joy, you sprinted towards Jim Davis before jumping into his arms. Seemingly extremely pleased, Jim let out a hearty laughter. Suddenly the energy you were drained had returned in the form of a shot of adrenaline when he picked you up and spun you around, kissing you without hesitation. And you swore the feel of his lips on yours added a couple of years into your life.

“Wait, you didn’t tell me you were coming back so soon” Breathless, you pointed out when he finally put you down.

“Well, I’m back for good, baby” Jim replied, extending his arms outward with pride. Your eyes widened: “What? You serious?”

“Yep…” he grinned nodding, “Honorably discharged…and all yours”

You sensed his tone morph into a low purr the moment he pulled you close to him. And you would be lying if that did not fill your stomach with butterflies. After ages.

“Umm….”

Yara’s voice emerged. You and Jim turned back, to find her and Chase appearing the most confused, “…you mind telling us who this is…?” She inquired with raised eyebrows.

Finally in realization, you chuckled. For introductions were in order.

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The aromatic scent crept into your nostrils, only to soon disappear out of the lack of attention provided. All the while an uptempo Latin Pop track playing in the background mingled with Yara and Chase’ voices, but unfortunately faded away into mere mumbles. For none of that seemed to be the key focus for you tonight. Not when Jim Davis was around.

Even seated at a crowded Mexican Restaurant, he mattered the most to you. Even when platefuls of delectable Taquitos* were served to the table, your eyes did not leave his irresistible side profile. And when his sense of expertise noticed and his eyes caught your gaze, you were breathless. You wondered if it was the romantic in you surfacing, for all seemed to appear in slow motion. His eyes remained seductive, washing all over you that it was certain your panties might melt and diminish into thin air. Those eyes were truly sorcerous, that your eyes suddenly had lives of their own to the point you could sense their figurative cheeks heat up with heavy blushes. For his eyes, they were proficient in the dirty talk as much as his mouth was. Breathing in his cheap cologne with depth, you suddenly grew aware of his touch, and the fact he had his arm wrapped around your shoulder all this time. Being lost in his eyes was definitely an out-of-body experience.

“Hey!”

Your soul reunited with your frame upon Yara’s call.

“Mmm?” Looking over at the couple sitting across the table, you and Jim were unfazed.

“Aren’t you two gonna eat?” Yara inquired with raised eyebrows while Chase had began to gobble. Her gaze questioned both your sanity. To which you and Jim could not help but chuckle in response. Shaking her head, Yara scoffed:

“It’s so weird…” she began, “…seeing you like this”. Wiping the crumbs off his mouth, Chase joined in with confidence, “Yeah! How did you guys even meet anyways? I mean, no offense but…we never thought she’d be the one…” he stressed, pointing at you, “… to have an older boyfriend who’s a Marine-”

“-Army Ranger” Jim corrected. His gaze and tone was dominant, enough for Chase to wither with intimidation.

“Yeah…” Chase nodded with a gulp, “…what you said…”. You would be lying if you admit you did not enjoy that sight.

“Actually…” you finally began, “We met a year ago” turning to face your boyfriend, “ He was back in LA during his break. We met at a bar”

“Hold up! ” Raising her hand, Yara was wide eyed, “How come I didn’t know about this?”

“Cause this happened a year ago, hun. Calm down” you chuckled, “Actually, this was even before Cin transferred. Hah! you didn’t miss much…Don’t worry” you assured upon seeing Yara’s pout, “It was a small bar, but I loved the Pistos*-I mean…” you paused with a smile, “….the beer there…” Your pause caused Jim to chuckle alongside once again. Safe to say it was a chuckle that encompassed a shared memory. A sweet reminder of your first ever meeting.

“And?…that’s it?” Chase inquired with amusement, with both hands resting on the wooden table, “You both meet at a bar one night and…” he whistled, “…then sparks flew?”

Looking at them both, you could sense the suspicion in their eyes. You longed to answer, however it was not so easy to do so. Pausing, you struggled with a response.

“Absolutely!”

Jim answered for you with nonchalance, while his grip on you tightened. For a split second you both exchanged a gaze of reassurance. And you had never been more relieved. The secret was safe.

“So…”, Turning towards the couple, Jim began, “How did you lovebirds meet then?”

Hesitation was certainly not in Yara’s vocabulary when she offered to speak. Leaving her sight, your eyes darted towards the the chilled beer that Jim placed on the table. You smiled to yourself. They were certainly filled with memories.

Reminiscing your first meeting with Jim Davis, never failed to be exciting every single time. Before Yara ended up in your life, there was Cindy. Noticing your evident sadness due to her surprise transfer to USC*, Cindy was hell bent in comforting you, thus suggesting you join her and her boyfriend Ray for a night out in South Central. You agreed, being desperate enough to spend the final few days with your roommate. Situated at the suburbs, this bar was small, intimate and seemingly inhabited by those who knew Ray, which resulted in a welcoming atmosphere upon arrival. Though the place was mostly filled with gangsters, you did not care for the slightest, when especially you found yourself falling for the unexpected; The beer.

Chilled to perfection, the beer there was unlike any that you had tasted before. And it was certainly a surprise, given they were the usual brands. You could not fathom the refreshing sensation that trickled down your throat with the first sip. That sensation tempted your hips to sway, urged your feet to move in rhythm. All in syncopation with the music that played in the jukebox under the dim lights. Until finally bumping into a man woke you from your intoxication. A man you were fascinated with in an instant:

Jim Luther Davis.

Such a pity that Yara’s gusto-filled story barely reached your ears. For reliving a memory simply seemed sweeter for you. Thus, you continued to do so.

Fortunately, Jim Davis did not end up being a handsome stranger that you simply bumped into, for coincidence had other plans. Especially, when he and Mike Alonzo turned out to be Ray’s mutual older drinking buddies. You were ecstatic. Internally, of course.

With the entire group packed together in the booth table, it was one loud but engaging hangout. Except for you. Somehow you preferred to sit right next to Cindy in silence, being distracted by two things: Beer, and Jim.

Blame the chemicals embedded in your system, for you simply found yourself drawn to him. Truthfully, it did not seem so difficult to begin with. Not when he turned out to be your type in appearance. You found yourself watching him. The manner in which he listened to others with swagger and confidence, the manner in which he held himself ; They all brought a certain air to him. Your attention had pierced through all manner of secrecy that he would occasionally end up catching your gaze. And then you would look away, quick and embarrassed. Though you must admit, it was a game you thoroughly enjoyed playing. But at the same time, you felt idiotic and childish.

“Cat got yo tongue, baby?”

You blinked, looking up. Fabio, one of Ray’s friends threw the query over to your direction, all of the sudden. And with that, the table grew quiet. All the eyes landed on you, except for Jim’s. A surge of embarrassment rushed towards you when awkward silence filled the booth. For you were definitely distracted to the point you did not follow the conversation. With you struggling to form an answer, Fabio snickered:

“Yo Cindy, What’s up with yo friend? She deaf or somethin’?”

“Easy, homie”

Before Cindy could respond, Jim’s quick reply arose. And you swore your eyes caught the sight of his hand ball into a fist as his eyes had grown dark. Oddly enough, that was the comfort you needed right then.

“Don’t mind me, Fabio…” you shrugged with confidence, “I’m just a girl hooked on her Pistos” you said, enunciating the Spanish word before taking another sip. You may have smiled at him, but you knew how much you feigned it. Awkward silence remained intact. But Ray managed to save the night, by changing the topic of conversation. Slightly embarrassed, Fabio shot you a look. All before he leaned towards his friends, muttering some words in Spanish.

“You speak Spanish?”

Jim’s low query made you turn to him.

“N-No…” you answered with nervousness.

“Well…” he began, “…you should” Though his tone was of seriousness, he did not fail to flash you a soft smile that comforted you even further.

Thus, the evening progressed. And you began to notice Jim in much detail. The more you did, you discovered a warmth that seemed to trickle down your heart. For you realized, you would not be able to stop yourself from falling for him. Hard.

You smiled to yourself, relieved Yara still did not know you were drifting away in your head, stuck in a memory.

Unable to stop obsessing over him since that first night, you remembered how you found yourself returning to the same bar the following night, alone.

Stepping into the venue, you suddenly were aware how unprepared you were. Even while placing an order at the bar counter, you remembered covering your mouth with embarrassment. Was this a mistake?

“Hey Baby! ”

Jumping in your barstool, you sighed with annoyance when you realized it was Fabio sneaking up on you.

“Just…” you feigned a chuckle, “Don’t call me baby, okay?”. Evidently ignorant, Fabio seemed to have chosen to stay. To your dismay. Sporting gold chains on his neck and wrists, Fabio was on a dire attempt to emulate a thriving gangster, when he actually was just another college kid like Ray.

“So, whatcha doing all by yourself, baby? Don’t tell me…you’re here to see yo boi Fabio?”

Keep telling yourself that, you thought. Exhaling in frustration, you maintained a tight smile, “I uh…just waiting for someone” you struggled. Flashing a mischievous smile, Fabio leaned in closer. You prayed he would not notice how your nose scrunched up by his heavy cologne with disgust. And how your body tightened when his eyes scanned you from top to bottom, licking his lips by the sight of your choker and your red, floral short dress.

“Who are we kidding?” He sniggered, “You wanna piece of this, huh? Come o-” “No!” You cut him off, “I’m really…” feigning a chuckle once again, “…waiting for someone…Thanks” you said, extending your hands in defense. Given the reaction of those around you, it may have been a louder response than expected. For Fabio turned red, making it his queue to slither away. You sighed deep. Luck did not seem to get on with you from the moment you stepped in here. Was this a mistake? When you felt a finger tap you on your shoulder, you rolled your eyes and turned around. For you were ready to give Fabio a piece of your mind.

Except, it was not Fabio.

“Hey…”

Jim greeted you, his deep tone announcing his arrival. Standing at an appropriate distance, he stood tall with a hint of swagger. Your body began to finally relax by the sight, especially when your eyes were refreshed by the open plaid shirt worn along with his white vest and baggy pants.

“Hey…” breathless, you began, “Hey!” Confidence finally became you as you repeated with a smile. The bartender caught your attention the moment he placed a chilled bottle of beer on the counter before you.

“Make it two, Hermano* ” Jim said, handing the man some cash. All the sudden, guilt washed over you as you gasped: “Oh I-”

“I got this…” Jim assured, seeing you reach into your bag. Grateful, you nodded, “So…” he began, “Can seem to get enough of them Pistos, hmm?” An inquiry left his lips the moment he received his own bottle. Smiling shyly, you bit the side of your lower lip. The manner in which that word rolled out his tongue caused excitement. Besides, his mouth suddenly seemed more delectable. Oh, his mouth.

“Yeah…” you admitted, “Can’t get enough…and I hope I never will”

You added, gazing directly into his hazel orbs. It simply was a mistake to do so, given how those eyes burnt with curiousity, urging you to blush in return, “And er…” pausing, you looked down, “ I was kinda hoping I’d catch you around” you said, looking up again.

“Yeah?” Jim inquired, genuinely surprised, “Why?”

That was when you froze. He was right, what exactly was your intention of seeing him tonight? Unfathomable on how you gathered courage to blurt that silly line in the first place. What if you dragged yourself all the way here to be rejected? What if there never was a form of enthusiasm from his corner as you hoped? What if this ends up being the story of a silly sophomore college girl, having delusions over an older man?

You chuckled with a nervous tone, “Well I-…” you paused, as your pulse began to grow loud within you, “Sorry…” you muttered, sliding off the stool, “This was just a stupid idea. I should go-”

“Wait!”

You turned upon Jim’s call. Showing his bottle, he shrugged:

“These Pistos aren’t gonna get finished themselves, hmm?” He dared to pose that inquiry with a playful grin. Smiling back involuntarily, you knew you had no comeback for that.

You remembered the chill outside the bar that night. The breeze that caressed your exposed skin of your legs were still fresh in your memory. Gazing at whatever stars your eyes could make out amidst the city lights, you and Jim sipped on the chilled alcohol from the porch. Given the fact there were little to none outside, the evening was unexpectedly intimate.

��Your uh…” clearing your throat, you finally broke the surprisingly comfortable silence, “Your friend not with you tonight?”

“Mike?” Jim inquired, to which you nodded, “Nah! he’s got his hands full” he answered with a smile.

“You guys close?”

“Hell yeah…He’s my homeboy, ya know? Since we were kids”

“Sweet. Must be nice.” You smiled in return, looking back at the sky, “I uh…remember that you serve. Iraq, huh?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Fallujah* ” Jim answered with a nod, looking at you.

“Whoa…” you breathed in wonder. Silence took over once again while your tongue savored the beverage.

“And you?…UCLA?” Jim spoke before wiping his mouth, “Man! That’s some fancy ass shit right there”

“Yeah well… it ain’t a walk in the park…” you contradicted in a shy tone, forcing him to shoot you a look of concern. To which you chuckled, “I’m on scholarship, I mean…” you added, helping him come to realization, “Hehe yeah…I had to nerd my way into that gig” moving side to side, you could not help but take another sip,“But, I know…what a good thing I got going on. And I know… if I screw it up, then I’m FUCKED” you enunciated the end, which drove him to laughter. You adored how it soothed you somehow.

“Well…” he began, “…whatever fucking takes, right?”

You nodded, “Hell yeah…Here’s to…uh…positive shit! Hah!” You laughed as you both clinked the bottles together. The more alcohol that chose to settle in your system, the bolder you became:

“What’s it like?”

“What?”

You fully turned to him, “Being out there…in Iraq…” you continued, “I mean…I’m guessing you’ve seen some shit…” you inhaled, “you know…shit you can’t forget, right? I mean, shit like that…” you scoffed, “….that shit can fuck…you…up…” at that moment you could not help but find yourself lost in thought.

But Jim’s surprised expression made you pause. You chuckled in embarrassment.

“I’m just…guessing…” you muttered, sipping once again. Perhaps you went a tad bit too far with the blabbering. For your cheeks began to heat up with worry. Until Jim spoke:

“Well…Shit or no shit…Follow orders, that’s what we do” Instead of a frown, Jim replied, taking a huge gulp from his bottle.

“Yeah…I get it” you nodded in a fast pace. Robust, and straightforward, his attitude was to be admired. Funny you found yourself staring at his side profile long enough, his face could easily be compared to that of a statue. Perfect in proportion, your mouth began to dry out. You were attracted to him, shamelessly so.

“I-”, You paused, suppressing a grin, “…never mind”

“What? What is it?” He asked, looking at you. To which you shook your head frantically.

“Nah, it’s really silly…”

“Come on!…tell me” Fully turning, Jim insisted with a smile. His voice had its way of being persuasive. And his voice had its way of tearing your defenses down, or so it seemed. Taking a deep breath, you began:

“I kept thinking about this but…” you paused, “Last night, you said I should learn some Spanish… Why?”

Desperate for more interaction, that was your excuse. Jim responded with a shy chuckle. Certainly was worth it.

“I mean, we just met and you barely knew me…” you continued with a smile, “So…why?” As your question grew more confident, your inner desperation grew strong. Taking his last sip from the bottle, Jim surprised you by taking a step towards you:

“You really wanna know the truth?”

“Try me” , You replied, quickly finishing your own bottle, all without breaking away from his gaze.

And thank goodness you finished it. For you would have surely dropped it. Especially when Jim stood dangerously close to you, causing you to be immediately aware of the muscles between your thighs contracting. Even more so, when his irresistible eyes traveled from your very own all the way to your alcohol stained lips.

“Cause…” he purred, “…you have no fucking clue how sexy you sound”

You both may have chuckled to his line, but that did not mean your pulse did not quicken. Which increased in speed the moment his eyes took hold on yours once again. Seduction, he certainly was proficient in it. And you, were a witness. A witness who suffered from internal combustion of frustration.

You inhaled deep, “Really?” “Yeah…” he breathed in a sultry manner.

Just when you thought no force on earth could break this eye contact, the door burst open. Some men exited. Breaking away, you looked at your watch watch in an instant. You sighed. Real Life was calling you.

“I…I gotta go…” downcast, you muttered with guilt, “Class tomorrow…” adding extra guilt, you knew that excuse certainly did not put you in a good light.

“Lemme drop you then…”

Jim’s nonchalant and nonjudgmental reply urged you to look up with relief. Smiling in agreement, you watched him enter the bar with the empty bottles. And in that very moment, a tingling sensation filled with thrill washed over you, leaving no inch unattended. Butterflies returned to your stomach, fluttering harder than ever before in your life. Were you being hopeful? Could Jim Davis be desiring the same? Goosebumps traveled through you when that tingling sensation returned with much detail. Too much detail to be specific.

Until you realized it was real. And Jim’s hand was directly at fault here.

Blinking back to the present reality, your eyes caught the sight of Jim’s chilled fingers on your leg. They ran over over your inner exposed thigh in circular motion, thus, inciting the tingling sensation. Of course, no wonder the detail was accurate.

Yara and Chase were oblivious to all this, for they were caught up in their own love story as she kept yapping. But that was only the fact Jim kept on such a convincing focused face. He may be ‘listening’ to your friend, but his hand was evidently not. The longer his fingers lingered on your skin, the more you were reminded of him. And the more you began to tingle and sweat in the most unexpected places.

You were young, and unapologetically shameless. 6 months. It was exactly 6 whole months since you were last physically intimate with your boyfriend. And with studies piling up along with the expectation of a scholarship holding sophomore, ‘getting yourself off’ was never an option. Not with a roommate around.

The tingling sensation grew even stronger. And you began to hear your own quickening breath. Jim Davis’ elongated fingers, they spoke of pride. You longed for them to travel to locations far more adventurous and private than your thighs. Especially when they were rife with experience. Truthfully, it was a fact that his hands and his delicious lips and tongue were fluent in your body than your own self. Being pleasure deprived for too long, the mere thought of him ravishing you, aroused you even more. Aroused, and certainly very starved. The kind that food simply could not satisfy.

“...and under the stars…” Yara continued, holding on to Chase with lovestruck eyes, “…he told me he loved m-”

“Excuse me!”

Cutting her off, you cried out as you stood up in an instant.

“What’s up with you?” Chase inquired, whilst Yara looked offended.

“Just I gotta…pee…” you lied, eyes landing on Jim, “…now”

“Okay…” you heard Chase mutter in kind as you left the table, “…TMI, but whatever”

In all fairness, being judged was the least of your concerns. With every speedy step you took, the faster your heart began to beat. Storming into the empty ladies room, you found yourself staring at a mirror once again, with a heaving chest and noticeably flushed cheeks. It was plain to see, you were engulfed in the flames of pure arousal, and the fire needed to be put out.

And when the bathroom door opened up once again, you turned to find the fireman enter. Wearing a serious expression, it was slightly difficult to decipher his thoughts.

“I…” you struggled as Jim strode towards you, “I didn’t know what else to do-” Except he knew. When he attacked you with a passionate kiss.

Jumping into him was reflexive. Wrapping your legs around his waist seemed almost choreographed. Finally resting on the washroom sink, it was quite safe to admit how both of you were very much relieved to be the only occupants in the room. For there was no intention of holding back. Your denim skirt hiked high up, revealing your thighs in completion under the white fluorescent lights as Jim stood between your legs. And they were much cared for, as his hands gingerly rubbed them back and forth while his lips indulged yours with hunger.

“You think they know I lied?”

Breathless, you inquired with innocence. Except you did not receive an instant reply. Not when you found yourself gasping when he pulled your head back by your hair with a growl. With liberated access to your bare neck, Jim celebrated by placing equally starving kisses all over, resulting in your surprising moans.

“You think I fuckin’ care?” He chuckled into your skin, to which you could not help but chuckle back:

“Oh no, you bad boy” you purred in tease.

“Oh yeah, baby girl …” purring back, his reply incited a giggle out of you before he kissed you once again.

“Ay Papi*!” You breathed into his lips before he snatched up yours for good. Surroundings were simply irrelevant the moment the kiss turned intense, as his tongue crashed in like the rude boy he was, and grabbed onto your own tongue in a passionate embrace. They clashed against one another in frenzy, him claiming you as his. As the kiss grew deeper, your moans grew louder. When he pulled away all the sudden, whimpers left your lips with desperation. Teasing you so, Jim took a good look at you:

“¿Como esta tu Español?” He breathed low. And you were pleased that you actually understood.

How’s your Spanish?

Pressing himself against you, he began to slowly grind. You grew excited. Listening to Jim Davis speak Spanish was simply erotic in the first place. And since you have been studying it on your own for past few months, you were certainly impatient to show him.

“Yo…” you began, finding the words “…estudio pala-sorry…” with a nervous chuckle, you looked down, “..I know I suck-”

“No no…keep going” Jim insisted with a smile, bringing your chin up for a reassuring kiss, “Now say it again…” he added, maintaining eye contact with ferocity. Taking a deep breath, all the words clearly appeared in your head. Thus, you flashed a mischievous grin:

“…estudiando palabras…muy importantes”

I am studying…very important words.

Gasping was all you could do when Jim picked you up, carrying you into the nearest toilet booth. Thankfully with this restaurant being surprisingly hygienic, you did not mind. Life barely was embedded in your legs the moment he put you down, locking the door behind you to push you against it.

“Oh yeah?” He inquired, panting, “¿Cómo cuál?”

Like what?

Panting alongside him, you stood up straight, “Por ejemplo…”

For example…

Amidst his pants and his impressed expression, you grabbed his hands, placing them over your buttocks. All the while you looked at him with eyes, heavy with lust:

“¡Haz lo que quieras!”

You could not believe how confident you sounded. Smiling with equal lust in his eyes, Jim kissed you in approval, definitely pleased with what he just heard:

(Do) whatever you want!

Growling with effect, his animalistic nature was exuded as his hands gripped onto your buttocks with passion. His big, generous hands felt through every cheek with familiarity, as if they just reunited with a long lost friend. But that did not mean he forgot about all the other friends, the rest of your frame that had missed him as well. Moaning with pleasure, you began to unbutton his white shirt during in haste.

You simply adored his hands, for they were as passionate as his Spanish was. As he proceeded to hold on to your hips, your own hands roamed over his torso over his white vest. Except you froze the second his hands landed on your chest. Shaky breaths exited your lips as you shivered by his touch, for your breasts were at its most sensitivity even through your thin cardigan top. Palming them generously, Jim groaned into your lips:

“Fuck! I missed you, Guapa”

“I missed you more, Papi”

Confessing in return, you kissed him once more. Moans of desperation mixed into your kisses the moment his hands dipped inside your cardigan crop top, only to make direct contact with your untethered bosom. You winced involuntarily, even from his touch so gentle. Jim chuckled with seeming victory. And you were not afraid to admit, how you were simply in the palm of his hand.

Usually, during the peak pre-menstruation, you dared not let anyone come close to you, let alone touch you. But when it was Jim Davis, those rules halt by the door. He was a man who could maneuver his touch. However, he certainly was no good boy. Proceeding with his sweet torture during kisses, you were relieved to have a door to keep you balanced. For his long fingers, they flicked, encircled and pulled your now-sensitive nipples, keeping them fully erect and thoroughly visible even through the clothes.

Gripping his vest even tighter, you pressed your thighs together, for intense levels of pleasure and sensitivity crashed within you, akin to an avalanche. In truth, it simply was an overdose, and you could not handle. You were a mere animal trapped in this cage of frustration. But like an animal, you managed to set yourself free. You pushed Jim back with such force, that he ended up sitting on the closed toilet seat behind him. A surprised expression adorned his face when you straddled him in the process. Peeling your cardigan off your torso, you hinted your need for him. Which immediately was motivation for him to unbuckle his pants. However, his eyes did not fail to leave your sight while he did. For his eyes revealed nothing but pure amazement and hunger. He inhaled deep:

“Fuck!” He uttered, while his hand dipped into his hardened manhood.

“Yeah, that’s right Papi…” you breathed, maintaining the ironclad gaze. All the while you permitted his hand to feel the intense dampness of your opening, “Fuck me!”

And thus, public decency went flying out the window the moment the lovers fully united. The manner in which his hands rested on your bare back; whilst you moved upwards and downwards in syncopation to his thrusts, it drove you wild. The manner in which his generous and erect shaft felt so familiar inside of your tight walls, was too intoxicating as always. His mutual desperation and hunger translated well, as his lips savored on your swollen and sensitive bosom as if they were treasured food rations. Tingles were divided into million branches, impacting every form of stimuli in your system. But even in the midst of these endless waves of pleasure, that certain question from Chase yet lingered in your mind:

“And?…that’s it? You both meet at a bar one night and…then sparks flew?” “Absolutely!”

For in truth, it was not just a night of drinking and playful flirting that caused this relationship to blossom. And just like that, You could not help but recall further.

And peek into the moment that remained stored in the deepest corner of your mind. In the form of a secret.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With arms folded, you kept on waiting. Long enough for the chill outside to grow stronger. Long enough for you to begin pacing nervously. Even long enough for several men to exit the bar during. Given its cabin exterior, it became more and more evident that this was more of an old fashioned bar. You sighed. Jim was certainly taking a little bit too long inside.

Paranoia knocked on your heart’s door, forcing you to welcome it inside with reluctance. Thus, several questions began to occupy your thinking space. Was there trouble inside? A possible Bar Fight? You shook your head, for you were surely being delusional. Or worse, was this a part of his plan all along? The player type to ditch you for someone else? Perhaps with someone better looking that he just met. Envy formed in your heart towards a woman that possibly may not even exist. Your stomach turned in a merciless fashion. When the door opened again, a surge of hope grew in you. Could it finally be Jim?

Except it was not.

“Baby! You still around huh?”

Fabio said, in a pleased tone, exiting the bar. Clicking your tongue in an involuntary fashion, you turned away with frustration. For he was the last person you hoped to lay eyes upon.

“Hey-Wha-What’s the matter?” Fabio cried, “Can’t look at a friend?” Whilst he tapped you on the shoulder repeatedly. Alcohol was strong in his presence. And the fact he stood uncomfortably close certainly turned your stomach even more.

“Well, technically you’re not my friend” With a forced smile, you turned to him, “You’re Ray’s friend, OKAY? ” a snappy tone exited your lips. And for a split second, there was genuine offense painted in Fabio’s face.

“Just tryna be nice, jeez!” He muttered low, with arms lifted. Coming one’s senses, you finally drew in deep breath while letting your arms loose.

“I…I’m sorry, dude” you said, in a soft tone, staring the droopy eyed young man. Being Cindy’s friend, your last intention was to cause friction Ray and his friends. Your tone seemed to have been convincing enough, for Fabio flashed a soft smile in return:

“It’s okay…” he replied, to which you were relieved.

But that relief was short lived. Especially when Fabio leaned forward with puckered up lips in an instant, forcing you to gasp.

“What the hell, man?” You inquired, pushing him back with aggression.

“Ah come on, baby…” he drawled, chuckling in a playful manner, “Just one kiss…I mean, look at you! You still waiting out here. For who? I know… you really came here for me” with open arms, he went in for an embrace. Scoffing, you pushed him back again. That was when your pulse quickened again. To the point you hoped to flee.

“That’s it! I’m leaving! ”

You snapped, darting away from the entrance. The concern of leaving Jim behind or finding a cab did not seem problematic anymore, for all you needed was to get away. However, a painful cry left your lips when you felt your hair being pulled back. Your eyes widened. It was an angry Fabio.

“Ugh! Why you being such a Puta* right now, huh?” He said through gritted teeth, pulling you closer “Oh wait I forgot…” he snickered, “….you don’t understand Spanish, right bitch?” turning you to him. The alcohol had certainly rendered him more maniacal than ever.

“Don’t’ be a jerk, Fabio…” You cried, as you began to swing desperate punches towards his direction. But your defenses were lowered and moot, the moment he grabbed you tight by the wrists. You gasped, “..let… me… go! HELP! ”.

However, despite your cries, no one came to your aid.

This feeling, certainly was the ‘stuff of nightmares’. This feeling, had haunted you every now and again in imagination. To have it form into reality, was worse. No matter the force you exerted to free yourself, it seemed moot. For Fabio had the upper hand with his strength. And you were overpowered with intimidation. With the heartbeat increased in record speed, your heart was on the verge of exploding with fear. For the first time, you feared for your life. You despised the fact there was no one around, the fact this bar was on the outskirts. Almost close to tears, You heavily despised the fact you may be getting hurt in more ways than one tonight.

Until you heard a bottle shatter. Loud.

Glass fragments dripped from Fabio’s head as he cried out with immense pain. His grip on you loosened before he dropped down to the ground. Only for you to find Jim Davis standing behind him, with with a bottle broken in hand, and sheer rage in his eyes.

Rolling over, Fabio caught the sight of the man, “Jim??” He groaned, “What the hell, man? Why you helping this bitch-ARGH!”

A kick in the stomach was Jim’s choice in response, which incited more cries from the fool.

“THE FUCK YOU TOUCH HER FOR, HUH?” Jim yelled, his loud voice piercing through the tension like high pressured flames. However, the question seemed rhetoric, when he continued to kick Fabio, aggression growing more and more evident, “FUCKING…ASS…HOLE!” With tightened fists, he enunciated with each kick, “MOTHERFUCKE-”

“JIM!!!!”

You cried in an instant. And that very moment was when he finally froze. That fateful moment, you watched his face change, for his expression was clear as day. As if a wave of realization washed over him. As if bitter reality surprised him with a sucker punch.

All the while he stared down at his finished product: Fabio. He watched the the young man groan for his dear life, laying defeated and thoroughly bruised; all the while a weak stream of blood appeared prominent from his head and his mouth, adding a splash of bright color to the dark and dusty pavement.

Which was transparent enough for you, the witness.

You regretted being frozen with shock. If it only was for you to control. Thankfully a shred of it reached when you finally mustered the strength to call for him out from a potential murder. Violence, Danger, your trembling heart sensed it all. All from Jim. For that was what his strong aura emitted. However, despite your shock, never did you flinch. Never did your heart consider retracting from him or running away.

On the contrary, you were compelled to trust him even further. Especially when you sensed complete safety in him, above all others.

“Let’s go…”

You found yourself uttering those words, as you took his hand in urgency. Pulling him with haste, you both fled from the scene. Adrenaline coursing through the veins whilst running away, leaving a wounded man laying in his own mess before anyone could find out.

You remembered how Jim drove. Quiet, but focused. He drove and drove, until the bar disappeared from your sight. He drove to the point you both found yourselves ending up at a remote beach. And finally, time had returned to its normal pace once again.

Calming sounds of the ocean waves filled your ears, while the sight of the foamy waters barely were visible in the darkness. You watched Jim slowly take his hands from the wheel, rubbing his face. Your eyes widened, when you noticed his hand bleeding slightly. Perhaps from the broken bottle. You longed to speak, however no voice was present. Pushing the seat back, Jim slowly crawled over to the back of the car. Silence overpowered for too long, which urged you to clear your throat and speak:

“A…Are you ok-”

“You’re right, you know…”

You paused, upon hearing Jim’s interruption. Looking back from the front passenger seat, you found light finally shining on his face. Much to your sadness, cracks formed in your heart by the sight of his expression. Especially when silent tears streamed down his chiseled face. As if his mask of bravery was stripped away. Or even melted.

“You’re right…shit’s been crazy over there…” he chuckled with sadness, “…worse, shit’s crazy over here too…” he said, pointing at his own head.

Joining him in the backseat, you took the bandana off your head without hesitation.

“The thing’s I’ve seen…” he continued in mid-whisper, “The shit I had to do. The shit I wanted to do. It’s fucked up…so fucked up”.

It was unfathomable. Witnessing emotions of Jim Davis on variant scale in one single night, including him unveiling his vulnerability, you did not know where to begin processing. Simultaneously, those cracks in your heart, they could not help but form deeper to the point you ached inside. For a second, you were filled with an overwhelming desire for this misery in his heart to disappear. You longed for him to smile again. You froze. Were you tasting a slice of pure affection? Perhaps even, love? For him?

“It’s too fucked up…I’M fucked up-”

“Hey…hey…”

Your voice cracked when you finally began, leaning towards him, “Shhhh…It’s okay…” you said in comfort, while rubbing his forearm, “…its okay…I’m here” you said, as you occupied yourself with tending to his bleeding hand as a coping mechanism. The bleeding that he did not even notice.

With his hand on yours, the heart did feel heavier in comparison. As if his hand was magnetically powerful enough to keep you nearby. Thus, forming an attraction. Not the type that stirred the loins, but merely the kind that longed for you to wail on behalf of him. The kind to carry the pain for him. As if you did not wish to carry on another minute of your life, without knowing he would be well. And you would be lying if you did not want to show him that.

Your trembling hand reached out for his surprised face, turning it towards you with patience. The deep breath you took, it occupied your lungs in completion. Butterflies exploded in your stomach , causing a riot before you moved close. Close enough to feel his breath on your face. And close enough to press your lips on both his cheeks.

You tasted his salty tears, that stained his face. Pressing your own lips together, you hoped you could share his pain this way. Your eyes were smart, urging your voice to take a breather, whilst they gazed at his lips. Those lips that turned you greedy the moment you saw first laid eyes on them. And his trembling breaths of despair were enough for you to finally dispose of any form of hesitation.

For you finally moved to kiss him ever so gently on the lips.

With your kiss, you were there for him, in spite of it all. In spite of the violence and the tears. And the moment you instantly felt Jim kiss you back, you knew you were hopelessly his.

All the sudden, a dose of sweetness was infused with the salty kisses, weakening the flavor of the beer that lingered in his mouth. Selfishly, the need for comfort vanished. For all you needed was him. In every possible manner. Safe to say, Jim wholeheartedly agreed.

A sudden injection of passion entered your systems, setting your bodies in its entirety, in flames. Which also included the loins. Powerful enough for you to straddle him, powerful enough for Jim to flip you down to hover over you. And certainly powerful enough for the both of you to make love.

You treasured it all. The manner in which his fingers were precise, hooking on to your panties to gingerly peel them out of your frame. The manner in which his eyes gazed upon your own, then traveling all the way south to take in the sight of your now exposed opening, that dripped with wetness, blushing in its own means and begging him to explore it. Thus, it was to be expected, when you welcomed him inside you effortlessly. As if it had waited for him all your life.

Even for the first time, Jim was fast, and was rough. Yet surprisingly, you did not care. You knew where it originated. And it seemed most apt.

While he moved in body, he fled in heart. Away from the horrors, away from the pain. This resulted from his need for a distraction. Amidst the syncopated moans that filled the car, you cupped his face. Looking right into his hazel orbs, you witnessed his need. His need for a distraction. And at the peak of climax, you witnessed his desperation. His desperation, that urged you to never him go.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(Present)

“I failed the test…”

Jim uttered low, capturing your attention. With your face buried in his neck, you heard it louder than ever. Tilting your head, you sat up straight to face him, confusion taking over. After reaching climax following a session of passionate and exciting love-making in a restaurant toilet booth, there you both were in recovery. Never did you expect him to break the silence with a statement such as this.

“What do you mean?” You inquired in a half whisper.

“The Psych test…” Jim elaborated, while you proceeded to put your cardigan top back on, “…for the LAPD gig” sighing, he was downcast “I failed that shit…”

“No….” You breathed. The disappoint that was rife in his tone, somehow pierced through your heart. Thus, ushering in a wave of sadness that came crashing in, “Baby, I’m so sorry…” you said as you embraced him tight. To your surprise, Jim held you tightly in his arms in return. For when he buried his face on the crook of your neck and remained in silence for a mere few seconds, it was evident that was what he was required of. A rush of butteries attacked as you gently cupped his face. You loved this man, and your heart was the witness.

“Fuck the cops if the they can’t relate” you said through gritted teeth, before kissing both his cheeks, “Fuck ‘em! Cause something better is comin’ ” you added with a soft smile, while your thumb ran over his upper lip, “We just gotta ...keep our heads straight”

To your relief, Jim seemed amused, “Speaking from experience?”

You smiled with pride, “You could say that…”

Both of you chuckled. “The point is…” you continued with a deep sigh, and huge smile, “I’m glad you’re back for good, baby”

Except for his own smile, it vanished right then. And in turn, his eyes watered and they shone, reflecting nothing but desperation and vulnerability. You took pride in being the one to witness it, just as you did that fateful night a few months back. Stroking your head with both hands, his forehead gently touched yours:

“¡Eres mia!” He breathed deep.

You’re mine!

How dare he? Expanding with immense warmth and impatience, it did not take long for your heart to gain rapid pace, as it was your very first time.

“¡Si, para siempre!” You answered with confidence. For it was simply the truth.

Yes, Forever!

——————————————————

Index

UCLA : The University of California, Los Angeles Salud: Spanish term for “Cheers!” Guapa: Spanish term for Beautiful, Gorgeous Taquitos: A Mexican Food Dish Pisto: Mexican slang. A general term for an alcoholic beverage (usually beer) USC: University of Southern California Fallujah: A city in Iraq Papi: Spanish Term for Daddy Puta: Derogatory Spanish term for bitch, whore

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itwillbeall-dwight · 5 years ago

Text

downtime at dead dawg

zarina kassir/caleb quinn | the deathslinger; just some feel-good friend shit w/ maybe flirting; alc tw; 1825 words

a/n: i’ve had this one sitting in the drafts for about a week, after i impulse bought zarina and having been playing her nonstop. they... are cute. i’ve also been doing really bad mentally so this fic was honestly mostly for me because i just want some... happy, feel-good content where people are friends for once. also, fun game to play; try and guess all the characters i vaguely mentioned. i wanna see how obvious i was.

i might add another few chapters to this?? i have ideas at the very least. i’d love it if u guys let me know if you wanna see that. hope you’re all doing well, and stay safe y’all.

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: “You want a drink, cowboy?” The voice beside him almost startled him, making him jump to look down at the woman in the brown woollen scarf, holding two glasses of whiskey. She held one out to him, and he took it with a quiet thank you, more than expecting to resume people-watching alone and in silence, watching on as killer and survivor alike had raided his realm for a good time - a break from the killing and the madness, if only for a moment or two. But she didn’t. Instead, she moved around him and took his side, resting her elbows on the balcony and joining him. She took a small sip from her glass. “You know, it’s crazy. Soon you’re just going to go back to slaughtering us for fun.” “You assume it’s fun.” He gruffly replied, glancing down at her to meet her eyes. “Are you implying it’s not?” Caleb paused for a moment, almost thinking it over, before he chuckled. “...Yeah, no, it’s real fun.” “Yeah, I thought so.”

It was louder in here than it had been in a long time. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

The piano wasn’t being played by ghosts this time. Among the white noise of idle chatter from the saloon floor down below him was the tickling of ivories at a fast pace, courtesy of that Macmillan guy, mask pulled up now as he ran his hand up and down the stained keys with precision, though a bit rusty at times - a well-trained pianist, in whatever past he had. That athletic survivor with the ginger braids stuck close by, clapping along to the rhythm with a smile on her face. There was another survivor on the other side of the killer, the bear on the back of her jersey clearly in view from the balcony as she tried to touch the bottom keys of the piano without getting her wrists slapped. They seemed happy enough.

Others were scattered among the odd tables that littered the saloon floor, creating the blanket of white noise that overlaid the music. From one, he saw the snapping movements of the spectral ghostly girl as she sat beside two survivors, a kind man in a trenchcoat and the hardy looking girl with goggles, the two of them talking and occasionally giving the spectre a chance to input - she was laughing, a wide smile distorting her face, occasionally giving the man a soft and thankful glance when she was sure he was paying her no mind. From another, many people surrounded the tough-looking survivor with the undercut and the strong killer with the rabbit mask as they partook in a battle of brute strength - an arm-wrestling match, with support from both sides of the playing field, cheering them on and clapping in glee. At the bar sat a quiet group of four - older men, supposedly wiser, he would have thought, if not for the idiot wearing sunglasses indoors and the man with the metal hand, both clearly drinking more than they could handle. Even from the balcony, the apologetic glances exchanged between the older soldier and the detective were plain as day to see, their companions too delirious from alcohol to pay that much mind.

“You want a drink, cowboy?”

The voice beside him almost startled him, making him jump to look down at the woman in the brown woollen scarf, holding two glasses of whiskey. She held one out to him, and he took it with a quiet thank you, more than expecting to resume people-watching alone and in silence, watching on as killer and survivor alike had raided his realm for a good time - a break from the killing and the madness, if only for a moment or two.

But she didn’t. Instead, she moved around him and took his side, resting her elbows on the balcony and joining him. She took a small sip from her glass. “You know, it’s crazy. Soon you’re just going to go back to slaughtering us for fun.”

“You assume it’s fun.” He gruffly replied, glancing down at her to meet her eyes.

“Are you implying it’s not?”

Caleb paused for a moment, almost thinking it over, before he chuckled. “...Yeah, no, it’s real fun.”“Yeah, I thought so.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” She returned the laugh in kind, though hers was a lot gentler than his - less rough, less biting. The killer turned his head to look down on her, at the expression on her face as she looked down to her friends and enemies below, a smile on her face. He followed her gaze down to the arm wrestling match, where the undercut survivor was shaking his hand and cursing to himself, his opponent stretching her strong arms above her head and placing a hand on her shoulder, where the infected priestess had placed her own hand in congratulations, whispering blessings in foreign tongues that Caleb didn’t care to understand.

The two remained silent and just watched the occurrences on the floor below. The idiot in sunglasses had climbed into the bar counter now, in the process of removing the tan suit jacket he wore with the encouragement of his fellow drunkard before being dragged off of the bar and outside by his sober, bearded compatriot. From underneath the balcony, the quiet boy almost always armed with a toolbox walked out, carrying a large pot of bubbling liquid and placing it on one of the empty tables, the leather-masked fellow and the hunched over swamp witch following behind him excitedly, ready to show off their cooking skills to the rest of the gathering.

The company at the piano had grown now, Macmillan having moved to let someone else take a seat - one of the survivors, the bigger woman in the pinstripe suit, whose piano playing was delicate, light and slow, accompanied now by the sound of a guitar, as the tattooed blonde survivor sat on its lid and played along and gently plucked the instrument's strings, the third member of their little musical entourage being the sound of a haunting, tolling bell from the tree-like man in the torn cloak, his addition giving the piece a melancholy vibe. Sat on the other side of the piano lid was the floating nurse, and though no expression was visible on her face due to the bag covering her face, the way she relaxed told him she was enthralled with the performance.

Caleb looked back down at the woman still by his side, her expression still soft as she looked among the crowd. As if knowing she was being watched, she looked up again, not fearing to stare directly into his eyes as she did.

“You know… we don’t even know your names. You don’t know ours. Isn’t that crazy?”

He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Why would it? Attachment ‘n that. Makes shit harder.”

“Like you would have sympathy.”

“Some of us have a heart, ma’am.”

She paused. “...Deep down, somewhere. I suppose you’re right. Though, it’s not entirely true. I know who you are. By chance. Maybe that’s why…”

He watched as her hand fell to the flashing device on her belt, a subtle red light blinking on and off. “...Huh. Nosey, aint’cha?”

“It gets me ahead in my line of work, Mr. Quinn.” She looked up as he flinched with a smirk, clearly not bluffing now, before her eyes fell back onto the crowd.

Following her gaze again, which was once again placed on the arm-wrestling pair, Caleb heard her chuckle, moving her arms again to hang over the balcony in a delicate criss-cross. “Oh, David’s at it again.”

David. Must be the idiot with too little hair. Caleb looked down at him as he pressed his elbow against the table, and flexed his fingers with a pained grin, ready for another round. “...Hardy one, ain’t he?”

“I’d call it stupid. Only Nea would encourage his behaviour, and there she is.”

Sure enough, by the man’s side was the girl in the beanie, almost shouting in his ear as both beratement and encouragement - he swore he could almost see the sweat on David’s brow as she continued on. He hummed, his loose jaw cracking slightly before he snapped it back into place.

“And isn’t Jane’s music lovely?” She continued, a free and open hand signalling back to the piano. “I never expected her to be a pianist, and yet, the way she makes music with Kate is stunning.”

“...Sounds nice.”

“Kate normally plays for us all, for a morale boost, it’s lovely. ...Ah, and look at that. The Spirit is a little less terrifying-looking like that. I never considered Adam to be the comedian type, he’s much too serious for that, and yet...” A pointed finger lead to the table of three again, where the spectral girl still giggled, her nose shrivelling up and as she tapped out her hand in defeat, the girl in goggles laughing along with her nose pinched between her fingers, a free hand nursing a glass.

Caleb hummed again in acknowledgement, looking down at the scarved woman again, and her soft features, before nudging her softly with an elbow. “You’re not slick, ya know, missy. Tryna teach me somethin’ new an’ all. Think that’s gonna save ya?”

“Ha, guess not. Just thought I’d give it a shot.” She shrugged, twirling some hair between her fingers as, again, she stared him in the face, with no fear, and even a soft smile on her face. “And my name is Zarina. In case you wanted to know.”

He looked away, back down below - there was a commotion with the dinner plans, it seemed. He didn’t care to get involved. “Well, I didn’t.”

“Well, too bad.” Zarina almost mocked him with her tone, before she took a drink, finishing off the last of her glass as she tipped her head back, and wiping her mouth with the back of her arm in some mock-macho movement.

There was a beat of silence. “...S’a pretty name, regardless.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” Dark eyes looked down at her again, and with another gentle snap of his jaw, Caleb gave her a lopsided grin, to which she gave him a half-hearted shove.

“Now who’s trying to get some sympathy points, huh?”

“Hey, just tellin’ the lady what she already knows.”

The odd pair shared a laugh, before the cowboy too finished off his drink in a movement similar to hers before, then holding out his free hand to take her empty glass. “One more, for the road?”

Zarina looked down at his hand, palm dried and scarred from years of working with his gun, before she placed the bottom of her glass into it. “If you enjoy my company, you can just say so, cowboy.”

“Ha. Keep dreamin’, Princess.” Heavy boots creaked against the wood of the balcony, as he descended down the stairs to the bar.

The night carried on, many survivors and killer alike finding it hard to stand after indulging in the rare pleasure that was alcohol in this realm. The darkness grew darker before everyone returned to their own dwellings until the trial resumed.

Boots on the counter of the bar, Caleb poured himself one final drink, listening to the last of the footsteps behind him. “‘Night, Zarina.”

She looked behind her, finding his eyes on her as she hauled the arm of a barely conscious Dwight over her shoulder, hoping to help their leader back to the campfire in one piece. A small smile fell on her features. “...Goodnight, Caleb.”

He suppressed the small inhale and choke of his drink as she said his name again, for the second time that night, listening to the sound of her footsteps and mumbles back and forth with the messy spectacled boy grew quieter and quieter, leaving him alone again, with the creaking of floorboards and the ghosts on the piano, until the next time he was called to service here again, gun in hand.

#dead by daylight #the deathslinger #zarina kassir #i dont know the shipname but boy i wish i did #prove thyself #off the record

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miguel-manbemel · 6 years ago

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Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 11: Bitten by Laziness: Beware the Sanders Sprites

Entry number 11 of Aspects & Fanfics, the fanfic based on “Sanders Sides” by Thomas Sanders, Joan and the Foster Dawg Team. Yes, I know I said this entry could be delayed, but when the muse kisses you, work runs incredibly fast, I wish this happened more often. In this entry I introduce a new original concept that I think it’s gonna be juicy in future episodes. Also, there’s gonna be a stellar appearance by Sleep. Well not exactly the Remy we know, but a character based on him, just like the Prince Guy, the Teacher Guy and the Dad Guy inspired Roman, Logan and Patton. Thomas said that he would never make Sleep a Side, and I have respected his wishes. Sleep is not gonna be a Side in this fanfic. He’s gonna be... something different. You’ll have to read further to know more. Also, in the end card I decided that the story called for me to get in full Prinxiety mode, so get ready for that if you like it and be warned if you don’t. As always, you can read all the previous entries of Aspects & Fanfics here. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Until next time. P.S. At last I’ve learnt how to put a “read more” link on Tumblr. Sorry for all the times I published the long posts on the tags and the nuisance it may have caused. I’m still pretty new on Tumblr, I’m still learning.

SYNOPSIS: Thomas feels like he’s lost all his creative capacity, so he calls Roman. When he doesn’t answer, they get scared and go to his room to check if he’s okay. It turns out he’s been bitten by a Sprite, a creature that represents a minor trait of Thomas’ personality, not strong enough to be a Side of its own. A Side bitten by a Sprite is possessed by it and if it stays attached to him for too long, it can erase the Side completely and take his place in his body. Soon, the Sprite starts talking through Roman’s body. All the Sides and especially Virgil, worry about Roman’s safety and try to find a way to set Roman free from the Sprite’s control before it’s too late.

WARNINGS: Some main characters are gonna live situations of danger, specifically body control by another entity, all in the context of a fantasy story that shouldn’t be a bad trigger, just thrilling, but just in case it could be a trigger, there’s the warning. As I said, there’s Prinxiety at the end of the story, and not platonic, but there is not nsfw material in there, it’s all romantic, the warning is here for those who don’t like ships in Sanders Sides fanfics.

EPISODE INDEX

THOMAS: [dejected voice] Yes. I was supposed to open this video with a joke or a pun of some kind… But I couldn’t come out with anything, so let’s go straight to the title screen which is what you’re waiting for anyway, shall we?

[intro sequence]

THOMAS: [same dejected voice] What is up, everybody? Sorry about earlier. I swear that I tried my best to deliver something good for you, guys, but, strangely enough, I feel dried out. Did you hear of that thing called the blank page syndrome? Well it’s not a pleasant feeling, I can tell you, but it’s what I’ve been getting lately, and I don’t know why. Getting to put some letters in my word processor for a project is a task that lately I’ve been finding exhausting. I thought it would pass, that when I least expected it, I’d get an idea and I would go back to normal… but… it’s only getting worse and worse… It’s… I don’t know… as if I had lost my will to create, completely.

LOGAN: [rising up, concerned] What?

THOMAS: Yes, Logan, and I don’t know why. I suddenly lost the drive to create, and, on the contrary, all I’ve been wanting is to sit down on the couch and watch TV.

LOGAN: Thomas, that’s not good. I hope that at least you haven’t indulged in that unproductive feeling.

THOMAS: No, Logan, as a matter of fact, I didn’t, because…

VIRGIL: [appearing, his creepy music box tune starts in the background] I didn’t give him that pleasure. Thomas! You have videos to make, songs to sing, media to release! Remember? It’s your job! Your way of earning a living! If you don’t create anything, you’ll lose your audience and you’ll end up starving! And so will your employees! Think about Joan, Talyn, Camden, Adri, AJ, Quil, and the others! What will become of them if you don’t deliver!?

THOMAS: [anxious] Okay, okay! I already know that, Virgil! That’s what makes me… anxious about it! What will become of us if I cannot create anymore?

PATTON: [rising up] I certainly don’t like this either! This is not like you at all, Thomas.

THOMAS: I know, Patton.

PATTON: But what’s worrying me more than anything now is… This is a problem of creativity on your part. Where is Roman?

VIRGIL: [puzzled] That’s right… We’ve been criticizing his working routine and he hasn’t showed up with his offended Princey noises!

PATTON: Perhaps something happened to him?

THOMAS: It would be the most probable thing. He’s my creativity. If I lost my will to create, that means he’s switched off for some reason. I think we should call him. Roman? Roman, can you hear me? Roman, come right here at once!

[there’s no response from him, but a faint sound of jingle bells is heard]

THOMAS: Nothing. Maybe he’s in autopilot?

LOGAN: Wait a second… Thomas, call him again, and then everybody stay quiet and listen carefully. Go ahead.

THOMAS: Roman! Come here!

[again, he doesn’t respond, and again the sound of jingle bells is heard]

LOGAN: Did you hear that sound?

VIRGIL: I did hear it. What was it?

PATTON: [scared] Oh, my gosh… do you think that…?

LOGAN: [concerned] I’m afraid so, Patton… This is serious…

THOMAS: Guys… I hate when you do this thing of talking to each other about something I don’t know about without explaining to me first.

LOGAN: Apologies, Thomas. But if you want to know more, you’ll have to let Deceit let us speak.

DECEIT: [appearing] Did someone say prince?

THOMAS: No… and why are you using Roman’s catchphrase?

DECEIT: I intended to say “did someone say Deceit”, but it looked better in lie form, it suited me better.

THOMAS: Okay… Well, as a matter of fact we did mention your name. What are you making Logan and Patton hide from me?

DECEIT: I don’t know what you mean…

THOMAS: Let’s not get back to falsehoods, Deceit. How could you not know what you’re hiding from me?

VIRGIL: I don’t know either, I have no idea what Logan and Patton are talking about.

LOGAN: It’s about the sounds of jingle bells we heard earlier that clearly indicate that… [puts his hand on his mouth] …mmm, mmm!

THOMAS: [annoyed] Deceit!

DECEIT: I’m not doing it on purpose. I know I’m a liar, but I swear that I don’t know myself what Logan’s talking about, and I’m being honest. I just have the impulse of hiding it to you, whatever it is, because you unconsciously don’t want to know about it.

PATTON: He’s telling the truth, Thomas. Neither Deceit nor Virgil know anything about this.

THOMAS: Well, that means it’s something bad…

DECEIT: Like the first time, Thomas, the power is yours. Only you can make me break the spell and let them speak, but you must truly and sincerely get ready to hear what they’re going to say. Until then I can’t do anything other than following your wishes, Thomas.

THOMAS: This is scary…

VIRGIL: Thomas… even I am intrigued about all of this, so please, overcome me and say yes. I do want to know too.

[Thomas takes a deep breath and closes his eyes]

THOMAS: Okay… I think I’m ready… Let him speak, Deceit.

[Logan takes his hand off]

LOGAN: Thank you, Thomas. As I was going to say… Roman may have been bitten by a Sprite.

PATTON: I was afraid you’d say that!

THOMAS: A Sprite? What’s that?

VIRGIL: Yes, what’s that?

LOGAN: Sprites are little spirits, with the shape of bright floating lights, similar to fireflies, that populate the Mind Palace. Like any other living entity in the Mind Palace, they surge from traits from your personality, Thomas. We are the Sanders Sides, the main entities in the Mind Palace, because we come from your strongest traits in your personality. The Dark Sides are equally strong traits, but originally repressed in your subconscious. However, there are multiple facets in you, Thomas, that also have an influence on you but which are not strong enough to be Sides, and neither are repressed enough to be Dark Sides, they’re somewhere in the middle. These are the Sanders Sprites.

VIRGIL: Why didn’t I hear about them until now?

DECEIT: Yeah, me neither!

LOGAN: The Sanders Sprites are allergic to the Dark Sides, they never approach you. Furthermore, they’re invisible to you as a self-defense mechanism.

PATTON: We can see them, but usually too late, as they can be quite sneaky when they want. Only the jingle bell sound they emit when they bite and the little light they emit when they approach serve as an alert of their presence. That jingle bell sound we heard must mean that Roman has been bitten by one of these Sprites…

THOMAS: Why do they have to bite you? And what happens when they do which scares you so much?

LOGAN: I think it would be better if you see it for yourself, Thomas. We should go to Roman’s room to check on him, as he will be needing our help anyway. I warn you, you’re not gonna like what you’re gonna see.

THOMAS: All these warnings in advance are only scaring me even more… Is that bite poisonous? Is Roman sick? [face of horror] Or worse, is he…?

PATTON: No, no, don’t worry, Roman is still alive… The problem right now is… of a different kind.

THOMAS: Still talking in riddles… Okay, let’s get over with it. Are you all coming?

LOGAN: [to Deceit and Virgil] It would be better if you come too. You could serve as a protection for us. Should any unseen Sprite be there, he won’t approach us if you’re there covering us.

VIRGIL: So we’re coming as your bodyguards? This is new.

DECEIT: I saw it coming that someday you would give us this task… Just kidding.

THOMAS: Okay… Let’s go to Roman’s room…

[Thomas and the Sides sink down. Then, they appear in Roman’s room. As seen the previous time Thomas, Logan and Joan were there, in the back wall there’s a huge royal portrait of Roman riding a horse, holding his samurai sword with one hand. Below the portrait, on the back couch, there’s Mrs. Fluffybottom, the bunny doll, and the shelving is full of fairy-tale books. The kitchen counter is full of medieval-like pots, huge wooden spoons, a roasted turkey, and other stuff. In Logan’s spot there are books of spells, magic wands and bottles with potions. In Virgil’s spot, the walls are covered with a forest of thorns, but there’s a beautiful purple rose blooming from one of them. Roman’s spot has a huge golden throne with Roman’s shield hanging above it, and red curtains framing it. Thomas and the others show a face of horror when they see Roman lying on the throne with his head resting on his right arm. There’s a red pixie light on the back of his neck and the sound of jingle bells is coming from it.]

VIRGIL: [horrified] Roman! Are you okay!? Roman!

[Roman doesn’t respond and doesn’t move a muscle]

THOMAS: Oh, my gosh! What’s wrong with Roman? That red light… Is that the Sprite?

VIRGIL: What red light?

LOGAN: Yes, Thomas, that’s him. You can’t see it, Virgil, but it’s there.

PATTON: Do you think we’ve arrived on time to…?

LOGAN: I don’t think so, Patton. He’s already unconscious, he must have been fighting that darn creature for a long time and he’s losing the battle. Probably he’s on the verge of…

THOMAS: [over the top terrified squealing] …dying!?

LOGAN: My goodness, Thomas, what is that obsession with death? It’s not that.

THOMAS: Then wha…?

[He doesn’t finish his question, as the jingle bell sound gets stronger and Roman’s body starts shaking. He then wakes up and sits on the throne. At first he shows an emotionless, robotic face, as if he was a dummy doll. Then he looks around and starts sporting a mischievous, slightly evil smile]

THOMAS: Roman? Are you okay?

ROMAN: [sassy voice never heard before on Roman] Roman is gone, sweetie, it’s only me.

THOMAS: What? What does that mean?

LOGAN: You see, Thomas, the Sanders Sprites are not strong enough to manifest physical bodies of their own, so they use us as hosts whenever they get to bite us. Roman is… you could call it… possessed… by the Sprite, who is using his body as a puppet to do his will. The Roman we know is still there, somewhere, but he’s unconscious. And of course, in that state, your creativity is completely inoperative. That’s why you didn’t have the will to create anything.

VIRGIL: My gosh, thank goodness we don’t have to deal with that…

DECEIT: True…

THOMAS: [to the Sprite in Roman’s body] Then who are you? What’s your name?

SPRITE: [through Roman’s body, with the same sassy, unconcerned voice] I’m not in the mood of telling my name, sweetie. It’s been a long struggle to get this body working and today I don’t feel like doing anything. Nothing at all.

THOMAS: [imperative voice] I command you to tell me your name!

SPRITE: [mocking him] Ooooh… look how I’m shaking… Well, I command you to… back the F… up, okay, honey?

THOMAS: What?

LOGAN: Thomas, unfortunately you don’t have control over the Sprites. They’re creatures so ethereal that they don’t follow anyone’s orders, not even the Light Master’s. They always do whatever they want, whenever it pleases them.

SPRITE: Oh, so you’re the Light Master in person, huh? [mocking him] What an honor…

THOMAS: Yes, I am Thomas. Why don’t you want to share your name with us?

SPRITE: Well, since you’ve been so nice to tell me your name…

THOMAS: Yes?

SPRITE: [lowering his voice] My name is…

[there’s a huge silence]

SPRITE: [high pitched scream] NOOOOOOOO!!!!

[Everyone yelps, scared. The Sprite laughs lively]

SPRITE: Oh, my goodness, you should have seen your faces! You almost made a dent on the ceiling with your heads, so high you jumped! And Roman wouldn’t have liked that you destroyed his room, would he?

THOMAS: [with his hand covering his heart, recovering breath, with an annoyed voice] Only two minutes in and I’m already hating this guy…

SPRITE: [negating with his finger] Uh, uh, uh, Thomas… Hatred is wrong. Right, Patton?

[The Sprite starts laughing like a maniac]

THOMAS: Well, it’s clear we’re not getting anything from him. So what do we do now?

VIRGIL: Perhaps I should get closer to him. You said that the Sanders Sprites are allergic to Dark Sides, right? I wouldn’t mind giving him a little… tackle of friendship.

SPRITE: [affected sigh] Why do you always have to resort to violence? Where is your sense of humor?

VIRGIL: As if you were being funny at all.

SPRITE: [imitating Virgil’s voice] Said the most sulky individual I’ve ever met in my life.

VIRGIL: [angry, reaching out his fists, Logan holds his shoulder] Why you…

SPRITE: [imitating the scene from Snow White, with low pitch voice and crossing his arms over his chest] Oooohhh… You must be grumpy!

LOGAN: Stop, Virgil. Remember if you try to hurt the Sprite, you’ll only be hurting Roman.

VIRGIL: But you said they were vulnerable to us!

LOGAN: If we had arrived on time, he would have been, but sadly he’s taken control of Roman’s body, and while he’s in there, he’s protected from you. He’s using Roman’s body as a shield.

[The Sprite sticks out his tongue at Virgil]

VIRGIL: [sighs nervously] I can’t believe someone would get on my nerves so much. He’s much worse than the real Roman in his worst times…

LOGAN: Don’t fall into his trap, Virgil. Ignore him. I suggest that we get back to the living room to tackle the situation.

SPRITE: [fake sad voice] Awww, you’re leaving, after, like, ten minutes of being together?

THOMAS: But what about Roman? We can’t leave him like that!

LOGAN: He’ll be okay, Thomas. The Sprite needs him, he wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, we need to talk on our own without him present.

SPRITE: Oh, keeping your plans under wraps? As if it was going to make a difference…

LOGAN: [ignoring him] Thomas, let’s go now, quickly.

THOMAS: Okay, if you say so, let’s go…

[Thomas and the Sides sink down, the Sprite smiles and waves goodbye]

SPRITE: See you later, pretty faces!

[There’s a white flash and Thomas and the Sides rise up in the living room. Virgil and Deceit get a little dizzy after rising up, but they recover soon]

THOMAS: Okay. Are you sure Roman will be okay, Logan?

LOGAN: As a matter of fact, Thomas, I have my concerns.

THOMAS: [scared] What? But you said…

LOGAN: I know what I said, and I only said it to avoid revealing anything to the Sprite, Thomas. The truth is the situation is really tricky.

THOMAS: Why?

LOGAN: Roman will be okay… for the time being. But his time is running out. If we don’t expel the Sprite out of his body soon, he could bond with him, and if that happens, Roman will be gone forever.

VIRGIL: [horrified] Oh, no!

DECEIT: This is totally not serious at all, less than I anticipated…

THOMAS: There has to be a solution, right? Right?

LOGAN: We have to identify exactly what Sprite has bitten Roman. Once we know, it will be easy to defeat him. You’ll just have to perform an action that conflicts with the trait that Sprite represents to weaken him enough to let Roman fight to reclaim control over his body.

THOMAS: So that’s why he didn’t want to tell us his name. But how will we know who he is?

LOGAN: Let’s see… Sanders Sprites are of different colors, just like us, Sanders Sides, and the color they have is the color of the Side they affect. In the case of Roman, his color is red, and red was the Sprite Roman had on his neck. Therefore, that Sprite comes from a trait that affects creativity… what could it be? Dang, if Roman was here, he could help us… Thomas, don’t you have anything?

THOMAS: I… I don’t know…

LOGAN: Describe the exact way you’re feeling in regards of creating something.

THOMAS: I… I…

VIRGIL: [anxious begging voice] Please, Thomas, do an effort! Roman’s life depends on it! [mumbling to himself with a whining trembling voice, his eyes fill with tears] I… I don’t want to lose him… [noticing the others have heard him, he quickly dries his eyes with his hand] I mean as a friend!

DECEIT: [mischievous smile] Excusatio non petita, accusatio manifesta… See? I know Latin too.

VIRGIL: What?

DECEIT: Never mind, it’s not the moment right now.

LOGAN: [a little angry] You’re right, it isn’t. Could you all focus, if you please? Thomas, we’re waiting.

THOMAS: Let’s see… When I try to think of something to write… I feel dried out, like I said, completely empty… I also feel…

LOGAN: Yes?

THOMAS: I also feel a strange tiredness, also like I said before… I just want to lay on my couch and do nothing for the rest of the day…

LOGAN: [thinking] Mmm…

THOMAS: Was that helpful?

LOGAN: [suddenly his face lights up as if he had an idea] Of course! The Sprite said it himself and we didn’t notice!

THOMAS: What?

LOGAN: Remember what he said when you asked for his name the first time? He literally said: “Today, I don’t feel like doing anything, nothing at all.”

THOMAS: And what…?

LOGAN: That’s from “The Lazy Song” by Bruno Mars!

VIRGIL: How do you know about Bruno Mars…?

LOGAN: We’re dealing with your laziness, Thomas! The Sprite that has bitten Roman is Laziness! It affects creativity in the sense that you can’t create anything if you’re dominated by laziness.

THOMAS: [in disbelief] My laziness? I mean, I’m lazy at times, but I’m not so lazy. I try to stay productive as much as I can, and you know it.

PATTON: Well, that’s why Laziness is a Sprite in you, kiddo, and not his own Side. It comes and goes, but when it sits down, it can cause trouble if you indulge in it and let it set roots in you.

THOMAS: I suppose this is my fault, then…

VIRGIL: That doesn’t matter now. The point is what are we going to do to rescue Roman. We’re wasting time! We’ll be late if we wait for too long!

PATTON: Relax, Virgil, getting everyone anxious won’t solve anything!

VIRGIL: I know, but…

PATTON: You’ll see how everything comes out right, kiddo. Now, let the grown-ups speak.

VIRGIL: [frowning] I’m a grown-up too, Patton.

PATTON: [cute voice] Of course you are, my precious boy!

[Virgil sighs and decides to ignore Patton and keep on listening]

LOGAN: As I said, Thomas, you must fight your laziness and try to stimulate your creativity to give some strength to Roman. If he manages to set himself free, we have two pest exterminators here who can take care of the bug… and sorry for the qualifier.

VIRGIL: Oh, don’t worry, We’ve been called worse… and it’s a job I would be more than delighted to do…

PATTON: Who called you bad things, Virgil!? Tell me so I can call their parents or physically fight them!

VIRGIL: Now it’s you who should relax, Dad.

THOMAS: What do I do to fight Laziness?

LOGAN: Well, creativity is not my department. My suggestion is that you think of new ideas for shows, new shorts, new songs… Anything may do, but concentrate on it, and try to develop these ideas to stimulate creativity, and Roman with it. Laziness won’t make it easy for you, but you must endure. You can do it, Thomas. We’re rooting for you.

PATTON: We’re with you Thomas. You can win this battle.

VIRGIL: If anyone can be helpful for Roman at this moment, I can’t think of anyone better than you.

DECEIT: I’m totally not going to say that I agree with them all. But I do.

THOMAS: Thanks, guys…

LOGAN: Let’s get started, then. First, we need to bring Roman and Laziness here. Call Laziness.

THOMAS: Can we? You said I had no control over him.

LOGAN: You don’t have direct control over his actions, but now that you know his name, you can summon him like anybody else.

THOMAS: Laziness! I command you to come here right now!

[Roman appears, he’s frowning and Laziness shines bright red in his neck]

LAZINESS: So… I see that you know who I am, Thomas. But that won’t make any difference. Look how strong I am now!

[Suddenly, Roman’s shape changes into Sleep’s shape, only that his shirt is red instead of white and there’s no label on his chest]

LAZINESS: Just give up, gurl. You can do nothing against me, and Roman is almost gone anyway.

THOMAS: It will sound cliche that I say it, but I really mean it: we’ll see about that.

LOGAN: Go ahead, Thomas. You can do it.

THOMAS: Okay, a new idea for a short…

LAZINESS: [evil giggle] You have nothing… [tempting voice] And don’t you think that couch behind you is comfy? You want to lay down to watch TV… Even better, you want to spend a whole day sleeping in the couch, don’t you?

THOMAS: [mesmerized by Laziness] Yes… [putting himself together] No! I don’t! And I have an idea for a short, precisely.

LAZINESS: [shows a face of slight shock] No…

THOMAS: Yes. It goes like this. I haven’t been able to sleep all night. My Sleep comes in at the worst time, and he looks exactly like you do like now… Although I think I’ll need to put a label on the chest that reads “Sleep”, to avoid confusion among viewers…

LAZINESS: Stop it!

THOMAS: …I ask him where he was last night and he tells me there was a concert downtown, and offers to work in that moment, but it’s two in the afternoon, not exactly bedtime, so I complain.

LAZINESS: [angry] That’s story is awful! Stop it!

THOMAS: And he goes away again, “oooutt”, as he says… And I’m fed up with him because Sleep is never there when I need him and shows up always when he should be away…

LAZINESS: [loses balance] Ugh…

THOMAS: I think I’ll title it… “So Rebellious, Out of Control”. I’ll film it just tonight. And who knows? Maybe I’ll make a series out of it. That Sleep character could blow the audience away!

ROMAN: [struggling voice] Get… out… of meee…

LOGAN: It’s working!

PATTON: You can do it, kiddo!

VIRGIL: Come on, Roman! You’re the bravest and mightiest knight I’ve ever met! You can do this! Fight!

LAZINESS: [now struggling too] No… Noooo… I’m losing control! I’ll be back! I swear I’ll be back! Noooo….!

ROMAN: [struggling yell] Get… oooouut… NOOOOW!

[There’s a red flash. Roman recovers his usual shape and falls down unconscious. Laziness, now a Sprite pixie again, flies around for a moment and disappears]

LOGAN: He’s gone! You did it!

VIRGIL: Come back, Laziness! I just want to give you a big round of applause… with you between my hands!

[Roman regains consciousness. He gets up, a little dizzy]

ROMAN: Ooff… That was outrageous. How dare that miserable Sprite do this to me?

VIRGIL: [emotional happy] Roman… Roman!

[Virgil runs and jumps on Roman and hugs him, squeezing his shoulders]

ROMAN: [wide smile] Whoa, whoa! Relax, Emo Viking! It takes more than a red firefly to defeat Prince Roman!

[However, he also hugs Virgil and they stay like that for a minute or so]

PATTON: Awww… This is so pure…

[Finally they separate and Virgil goes back to his spot]

VIRGIL: [emotional, a black tear has fallen down his cheek] I thought that I… [quickly corrects himself nervously] I mean… we, were losing you… We were so heartbroken… You better watch out for bugs carefully next time, don’t you dare scaring me… I mean, us… like that again!

ROMAN: [loving, grateful smile] I promise, Virgil… [to Thomas] And thank you, Thomas. I couldn’t have won this battle without you.

THOMAS: Of course, Roman. I was not going to abandon you, my dear friend. And we also must thank Logan. Without his knowledge, this wouldn’t have been possible.

ROMAN: Thank you, King of Specs.

LOGAN: You’re welcome, Prince of Ilusions.

PATTON: How are you feeling, Roman? Are you okay?

ROMAN: I was feeling awful… [furtive glance to Virgil] but now I feel like I could conquer the world. I’m so lucky to have you all as my best friends… [suddenly grimaces in pain and covers his neck] Aww!

VIRGIL: [scared] What’s the matter?

ROMAN: It’s suddenly hurting in my neck, right where the Sprite bit me.

THOMAS: Should we be concerned? Maybe Laziness sneaked back and bit him again.

LOGAN: Nah… It’s completely normal. Have you ever been stung or bitten by a wasp, Thomas?

THOMAS: Yes, a couple of times, and it was painful…

LOGAN: This is something similar. It’s the pain Roman wasn’t feeling earlier over being under control of Laziness, that now he’s feeling in all its extension, but he’ll survive. A Sprite can’t bite a Side twice in the same day, they need a few days to recuperate.

VIRGIL: However, we should take care of that lump. It could get infected, right? Have you got any med kit in your room?

ROMAN: Yes, I think I do.

VIRGIL: [sinking down] Then let’s go, Princey.

ROMAN: [sinking down] Um… okay, Virgil, if you insist.

PATTON: Isn’t it cute? They’re such good friends now.

DECEIT: [giggles mischievously] The best kind of friends, I think.

PATTON: Why that giggle?

DECEIT: Have you ever seen one of our wounds getting infected, Patton? We’re not humans, we’re immune to mundane microorganisms. [voice of being obviously lying] I wonder why Virgil was so interested in getting to be with Roman in his room all alone…

PATTON: [confused] To have a cup of tea?

DECEIT: [sighs, while sinking down] Oh, Patton, sometimes you’re so naive it puzzles me how, among all of us, you’re the only one who’s managed to be a father…

PATTON: [sinking down] I don’t understand you. Deecey, explain?

LOGAN: I wonder that too…

THOMAS: Well, thank you again, Logan.

LOGAN: You’re welcome, Thomas. I’m glad that I could be of help this time.

THOMAS: Will we ever hear of the Sanders Sprites again?

LOGAN: Most certainly. They’ve been a constant pest, even though it was always hidden from you.

THOMAS: Have you ever been bitten by Sprites before?

LOGAN: Sometimes. Not all of the Sprites are as dangerous as Laziness. Some are more benign, they bite us, play with our bodies for some time, say whatever they need to say, and then leave us. They are a little bothersome but harmless in the long term. Others, like Laziness try to replace us and are more difficult to defeat. Thank Franklin that these don’t show up often. But we’ll have to be more alert to our surroundings. Roman, Patton, Honesty and I are potential victims of them and we can’t drop our guard. Well, I think Honesty may be safe. He was once part Dark Side and I’m sure there are still remnants of Deceit in him that may make him immune to the Sanders Sprites. Who knows?

THOMAS: I hope so, the less of you they can affect, the better.

LOGAN: By the way, I’m going to tell Honesty about this. He’s not gonna like that he’s missed another adventure of ours again. [sinking down] But that’s what he gets for being in autopilot so often.

THOMAS: Bye, Logan. Tell Honesty hi for me. [to the camera] We all can be bitten by laziness from time to time. It’s completely normal and it happens to all of us, one moment or another. Of course, we must get the proper amounts of rest that our body requires after a long day of work, school or whatever, but we must try to stay active so that laziness doesn’t conquer us and makes us lose our capacity to shine as much as we can. Sometimes it’s difficult, but I’m rooting for you. I’m lazy too at times, as you’ve seen, and if I did it, so can you. Let’s get rid of this lazy bug together. Until next time, take it easy, guys, gals and non binary pals. Peace out!

[ending card]

[Virgil is putting a band aid on Roman’s neck]

VIRGIL: There you go. That should do.

ROMAN: Thank you so much, Virgil.

VIRGIL: Of course, Roman. You’ve gone through a lot today. You deserve to be taken care of for a little while.

ROMAN: I’m sorry I worried you.

VIRGIL: What are you talking about? It wasn’t your fault.

ROMAN: In a way, it was. I should have paid more attention. I was caught off-guard like a fool. If only I could have asked for help… But I couldn’t speak. From the very first moment I sensed the bite, I felt his consciousness invading me, slowly numbing all my members, turning me into a worthless puppet… It was a horrible sensation…

VIRGIL: [grabs Roman’s hand] It’s okay, Roman. It’s over now, and you’re here with me… I mean, us, again.

ROMAN: [grabbing Virgil’s hand] Virgil…

VIRGIL: Yes?

ROMAN: Isn’t it funny how our relation has evolved? We started as the worst enemies, then with our silly arguments, the name callings, the bickering… and then, almost without noticing, we became best friends, and now…

VIRGIL: You were right, Roman.

ROMAN: About what?

VIRGIL: About how worried I was about you… When Logan said that you could have been gone forever… I pictured a life without you there. Even without your over-dramatic acts and occasional nuisance, and I felt so empty… I don’t ever wanna feel like that again. Please, always stay safe. You’re important to us… You’re important to me. You have no idea how much.

[Roman looks at Virgil with a loving glance]

ROMAN: All of my life I have always been looking for the prince of my dreams, even back when I was young and they told me that I was required to marry a princess to secure an heir to the throne, you know, the royal protocol and all that jazz…

[While he speaks, Roman gently caresses Virgil’s cheek with his hand and passes his finger over Virgil’s eye-shadow, while Virgil holds that hand and looks sweetly at Roman. Roman’s finger gets stained in black from the eye-shadow, as it is wet from Virgil’s earlier tearing]

ROMAN: Who would have thought that the perfect one, the real prince of my dreams I was looking for, was right here under my nose all the time, wearing a hood instead of a crown.

[Roman approaches Virgil to kiss him. Suddenly, Virgil shows a face of fear and walks back, dropping Roman’s hand]

ROMAN: [confused] What? What’s the matter?

VIRGIL: We can’t do this, Roman.

ROMAN: But I thought…

VIRGIL: And what you thought is true, Roman. I… I love you. I love you more than I love myself. But… Precisely for that, we can’t be together. I’ve let myself get carried away, but we can’t do this.

ROMAN: I don’t understand…

VIRGIL: Our relationship would be dangerous, Roman, dangerous for you. I’m a Dark Side, and you’re a Light Side. Remember what happened when you stayed in my room for too long? What could I do to you if we stayed together for a lifetime?

ROMAN: I don’t care about the danger. I just want to be with you…

VIRGIL: Please, try to understand. I don’t want to run the risk of doing the exact same thing that Sprite almost did to you today. I don’t want you to be endangered because of me. ��If something happened to you because of me, that would kill me. I must renounce to you, because I love you, and I care about your safety and well being more than I care about my feelings. I’m sure you’ll find someone better than me who will make you happier than I ever could.

ROMAN: But Virgil, I…

VIRGIL: I must go, Roman. This was a mistake. Let’s do as if this had never happened and remain being friends, okay? Please don’t tell anyone about this. And if it serves as a consolation, always remember that my love will always be yours, till our final day. See you later.

[Virgil sinks down, leaving Roman’s room. Roman approaches Virgil’s spot and looks at the purple rose in the forest of thorns]

ROMAN: And what’s the use of a long and safe life if I have to live it without you, Virgil? I don’t want anyone better than you, should that person even exist. I want you, my hooded dark prince. I love you, Virgil…

[Roman looks at the purple rose, then at his finger, still covered in Virgil’s eye-shadow, and starts silently crying]

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