I CAN'T CLOSE MY EYES ALONE ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; arguing with satoru is always exhausting. bitter and spiteful, you leave him in the bedroom and go find another place to sleep; your couch would be the obvious choice, but where’s the fun in that?
word count; 4.2k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (he calls you ’stubborn girl’ n ’pretty girl’ but other than that it’s gn!!), toru and reader have a fight, reader sleeps in the bathtub (don’t ask it came to me in a vision), hurt/comfort, he's doing his best :<, fluff!!
a/n; smth abt …. arguing w satoru gojo ……. idk why the concept has possessed me in the way that it has i just think hurt/comfort w toru is <33
okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.
in your defense, you weren’t exactly thinking straight; fueled by spite, eager to get far away, and admittedly a little curious as to how it would feel, the decision was made almost purely on impulse. and stupidity, probably.
it’s not comfortable at all.
maybe it could be. maybe if you had just a couple more pillows, a fluffier blanket with a cozier texture. maybe if you had something soft to put beneath you, another blanket or a comforter or — whatever. maybe if you had a warm cup of tea to drink. maybe if you had something warm to hug to sleep.
or someone.
(aw, what’s wrong? can’t sleep without me after all, huh?)
— nope. you are not going back there.
just the thought of how smug he’d get makes you bite the inside of your cheek, increasing your already growing frustrations. in desperate search of a more comfortable position, you nuzzle further into the pillow, but nothing works.
your limbs feel stiff, and your bones can’t seem to relax, a discomforting numbness seeping into your spine. and it’s cold. the feeling of porcelain against your skin keeps you tossing and turning, akin to an icy winter breeze, caressing the apple of your cheek.
still, there’s simply no other option. under absolutely no circumstances can you turn back now. not when you’ve come this far, when you can almost begin to sense an inkling of sleep’s familiar call, the drowsy flutter of your eyelashes.
it takes time, and perseverance — but eventually, the road to sleep does seem to brighten on the horizon. crawling closer and closer, lulling you into its embrace, while all you can do is lie there. completely at its mercy, exhaustion ghosting your subconscious, eyelids ripe with fatigue.
slowly but surely, your consciousness begins to fade. tenderly, soothingly, like a curtain over your eyes being slowly unveiled. you can almost taste it, on the tip of your tongue; sleep is only a moment away.
soon, you’ll fall into that cozy abyss. and then you’ll open your eyes, and the morning sun will greet you. it’ll be a new day, a better day.
so you keep your eyes closed, and sink a little further into the plush of your pillow, and —
the light flickers on.
in the state you’re in, tiptoeing on the edge between dreams and reality, so tantalizingly close to falling asleep, the brightness is positively grating. even through your shut eyes, it invades your senses — a glow so irritating it’s startling. the bathroom lights mock you with their shine, illuminating your figure, curled up in the tiny bathtub.
the whine you let out is involuntary, coaxed out from deep within your throat, as the uncomfortable sensation rouses you from your would-be slumber.
satoru raises an unimpressed eyebrow, where he stands by the door.
chest bare, wearing only a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts, he looks at you with tired eyes. exasperation painted onto his dishevelled features. then he clicks his tongue, voice raspy and rich with fatigue.
”you’re ridiculous.”
the judgemental tilt of his voice only makes the annoyance in your veins bubble up once more, just when it was finally about to dwindle. eyes squeezed shut to escape the burn of the artificial light, you let out a sharp wince, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow.
”turn it off!”
ignoring your angry plea, satoru makes his way over to you. with long, slow strides, vaguely uncoordinated steps. just a little clumsy. he plops down on the edge of the bathtub, and gazes down at you.
you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around a fluffy cushion, knees against your chest. under the illumination of the bathroom lights, he can see you clearly; messy hair that he yearns to ruffle, a crease between your brows that he yearns to smooth away.
you look awfully uncomfortable, to no one’s surprise. he isn’t sure what else you were expecting.
despite the sting of the bright lights, you force your eyes open — only to give satoru a halfhearted glare, an attempt at appearing intimidating. though you somehow doubt it’ll work.
resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, satoru tilts his head. soft locks of white hair follow the movement, falling over his eyes, a little more tousled than usual. like he’s been tossing and turning, sprawled out on the bedroom mattress.
and, just like you suspected, the dirty look you send his way doesn’t seem to scare him off. not even in the slightest. if anything, you think you catch a flicker of lazy amusement dancing through his eyes. and it irks you, it does — an itch beneath your skin, a taste of irritation on your tongue.
because satoru is looking at you like you’re somehow in the wrong, here, like you’re the one acting out. as if he isn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.
at this point, you barely even remember what the fight was about. too sleep-deprived to recall it properly, too stressed to make a genuine attempt. all you remember is getting ready for bed, and the familiar sensation of frustration prickling your skin. you remember his pretty little grin, his teasing remarks and refusal to take you seriously.
remember the way he laughed, when you told him what was bothering you; the crinkle of his eyes, the warmth of his hands reaching over to squish your cheeks. a little patronizing.
(there was no malicious intent behind it, that much you know. he probably just wanted to lighten the mood. but it irked you, all the same. hurt you, maybe. just a little bit.)
then you remember storming out. grabbing a blanket and pillow and telling him to sleep on his own, if that’s how he was going to be. the words felt cold as they left your mouth, little breathy icicles. and then you left.
which is why you’re here, right now. curled up in your goddamn bathtub, for some reason that still escapes you, trying desperately to get even a wink of sleep without your boyfriend there to help.
and that’s also why satoru is here, back a tad slouched as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you like you’re some misbehaving cat. blinking slowly, drowsily, dragged down by the fatigue clinging to his eyelashes.
(he can’t sleep, either.)
”you’re really gonna sleep in there?” he sighs, after a moment’s pause. any honest concern in his voice is almost entirely overshadowed by the sense of admonition that follows it.
a scoff falls from your lips, sharp like a razorblade. ”yes,” you deadpan, shifting to lie on your stomach, hiding away from his insistent view. ”i was sleeping just fine before you barged in here.”
satoru shoots you a look, thoroughly unimpressed, entirely unconvinced of your blatant lie. ”you’re being dumb,” he huffs. ”at least sleep on the couch.”
”i don’t wanna hear that from you,” comes a hiss, low and disgruntled. a growing irritation. ”and i’m comfortable where i am.”
another dissatisfied huff. why are you being so irrational? he just doesn’t get it. scrambling for excuses, satoru tries his hand at another tactic.
”you’ll hurt your back.”
another little scoff. oh, so now he suddenly cares? you can’t believe him.
”so what?”
a moment passes. satoru bites his lip, teeth sinking softly into the flesh; a little pang of ache, but it’s nothing compared to the twist of discomfort in his chest. you’re making this more difficult than it has to be, he thinks. always so stubborn.
what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to convince you to come back to bed, when you’re already so set on denying him?
god, he’s tired. he just wants to sleep, close his jaded eyes. just wants to not have to think, for a couple hours, curled up with the only person who makes him feel safe. just wants to dream in soft shapes.
but if you aren’t there, then…
a deep sigh. weary, annoyed. ”c’mon,” he coaxes, blinking sluggishly. ”you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without me. can’t we just make up already?”
your nails dig into the fabric of your blanket. every word he says only seems to deepen the sense of irritation plaguing your sleep-deprived mind.
it makes you want to shut him out, bury your head in the soft sheets and forget about everything else. he keeps acting like you’re just overreacting, like you wanted to have an argument. like he wasn’t the one who made you upset and then laughed at you about it.
”i don’t need you to fall asleep,” you grumble, muffled by the pillow in your grasp, arms tightening around it. nuzzling deeper into the soft velvet comfort.
satoru’s fingers twitch, as if urging him to pull you close. he almost glares at the cushion in your arms, that you’re hugging so fondly, putting all your body weight on — snuggling into it in search of comfort and warmth.
(that should be his chest.)
the gears in his head turn, slowly and mechanically, as he brings a hand up to card through his hair.
satoru hates seeing you so upset, so far away from him. having to watch you close yourself off, not allowing him to be near, soothe you and take care of you. kiss all your worries away. that’s all he wants to do, everything he needs to keep himself whole, to keep himself from being devoured by an exhaustion he’s lived with for as long as he can remember.
a strong frustration gnaws at his conscience. a certain desperation.
a big, heavy sigh leaves his lips. it bounces off the walls of the bathroom, the white tiles and shiny mirror, as he drags it out. almost childishly. then he’s angling his body to face you properly, big hands resting on his knees, a determined gaze set on your figure.
”look, i’m sorry,” he starts, rigid and earnest. blinking once, twice, chasing away the drowsy weight of his eyelids. ”i shouldn’t have laughed.”
your ears perk up.
shifting to your side as if hoping to hear him better, you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes. almost in disbelief, a kind of hope sprouting in the corners of your dilated pupils.
is he genuinely going to apologize, you wonder? admit that he was in the wrong? does he actually feel bad?
a moment passes. slow, drawn out, until satoru’s voice spills into the air again.
”there. i apologized,” he exhales, a little gruff. annoyed. ”now will you please just come to bed?”
…
wow.
okay, nevermind. you hope the ceiling fan falls on him.
beneath your skin, a mellow kind of anger bubbles up, blood slowly coming to a boiling point. he’s not sorry at all. of course he isn’t. you were stupid to think he’d actually give you a sincere apology, stupid to think he’d do the one thing that would actually make you want to fall back into his comforting embrace. stupid, stupid.
clenching your teeth, nails digging into the velvet fabric of the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut once more. only this time, you don’t plan on opening them again — at least not until morning comes. not until you see the sunkissed tiles of the bathroom, until the ache inside your chest has passed.
”satoru,” you enunciate, frigid and final. ”just let me sleep. we can talk tomorrow.” a beat. the tiniest grumble resounds from your lips, tinged with exhaustion. ”i’m too tired for this.”
under his breath, satoru winces. that palpable fatigue in your words sends a tremor running through his chest, discomforting, a shiver of his heart. you won’t look at him anymore, and the hint of finality in your tone makes him feel slightly dejected.
god, he’s awful at this. sincerity has never been his strong suit. he’s gotten better, lately, but it’s still so very foreign.
he didn’t mean to make you angry, didn’t mean to upset you. didn’t mean for the lilt of his voice to make his apology sound insincere. but that’s still what happened.
and satoru isn’t quite sure what to do.
he’s tired. eyes heavy with lost sleep, glimpses of would-be nightmares he knows he’d have were he to fall asleep right now. an anxious lump has long since formed in the back of his throat, and he misses you. misses your presence, your warmth. misses the feeling of having you close, the knowledge that you haven’t left yet.
(without you, he can’t —)
a sigh. soft, and resigned, flowing from his lips.
the inner turmoil in satoru’s mind begins to fade, slowly but surely, smoothed away by the sight of you. bundled up in a blanket too small to cover you properly, lying in that cold and cramped bathtub, discomfort evident in your features. sadness dripping from the bitter words you grace him with.
so out of reach, too far for him to follow, a boundary he wants to cross more than anything. but something about that meek expression makes him falter, makes his heart twist and turn inside his ribcage.
(he knows that you’re tired, too.)
so satoru swallows his pride.
the words are spoken in a whisper, hushed, through a voice so low you wouldn’t hear it if the silence of the bathroom wasn’t so suffocating. a soft lilt of his voice, bare and raw. meek, in a way that makes him want to crawl under a rock and die. but it’s there, and he lets you hear it; that soft little truth.
”… i can’t sleep without you.”
satoru doesn’t look at you. his confession rings in your ears, laced together with a softness you’ve come to associate with warm spring mornings and rooms so dark you can’t see his face. moments in which satoru feels safe. safe enough to be sincere.
— inevitably, your heart begins to soften.
(he’s trying. it’s difficult for him, but he’s really trying. sincerity and honesty are things that have been used against him all his life, so it’s no wonder he’d be scared.)
it’s very hard to stay mad at him, when he sounds like that. when his words come out sounding a little too much like a plea, a silent call for help.
with hesitance, you allow your eyes to flutter open, shifting a little to get a better look at him. he’s there, staring into space — the man you’ve grown to love so dearly. his tousled white hair, those slightly forlorn eyes. the vague darkness beneath them, slightly puffy skin. that tired, tired expression.
satoru taps the edge of the tub with the pads of his fingers, absentmindedly. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over.
then, at last, he meets your gaze. and you think he swallows down a gulp, before smiling — it’s a pretty smile, somewhat tiny. a little sheepish, but awfully sincere. awfully satoru.
he tilts his head, gazing into your eyes with a tenderness that melts your heart to the marrow.
”… please?”
a second passes. then two.
soft and melodic, your heartbeat resounds in your ears, akin to a lullaby. like the call of a siren, coaxing you into giving in. and you’re weak, you realize, so very weak. just a smile and a tilt of his head, and you’re rendered utterly helpless.
(he’s just too pretty.)
without fully realizing it yourself, you’ve begun to move, dragging yourself up with sluggish motions. blanket still draped over your shoulders, and pillow snug against your chest, you blink. drowsily, slowly. a little meekly.
and satoru brightens.
it’s visible, in the way he physically perks up, back straightening, smile finally reaching his aquamarine eyes. a blend between hope and affection sprouts in them, slathered over with something honeyed.
a soft grin blooms on his lips, and he opens his arms wide — silently beckoning you to fall into his embrace. a raspy coo tiptoes on his tongue.
”c’mere.”
before you can make a move to do so, satoru leans over. scooping you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing, tucking you into his warm embrace. smothering you in his cushiony chest.
almost instinctively, your arms go to wrap around his neck, cheek smushed against the warm skin of his shoulder. if you strain your ears, you think you can hear the soft patter of his heartbeat. he smells of the tiramisu you ate before going to bed, and just a hint of expensive cologne. he smells of comfort.
satoru is soft, and warm, and everything you need right now. lulling you back into that cozy, sleepy state. your very own personal dose of melanin.
with a big palm on the small of your back, satoru keeps you pressed up against his chest, as if you could change your mind and try to escape at any moment. he stands up, still holding you, and hikes your legs around his waist. breathing out a satisfied hum, before turning on his heel.
satoru smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. ”let’s get you back to bed, baby.”
after turning the bathroom lights off, he begins to walk to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with one arm. always so strong and reliable. you know for a fact that he’s not going to drop you, so you opt to close your tired eyes; stretching out your limbs, lazily, releasing a quiet yawn that makes his lips curl up.
despite your lingering frustration, you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck — and satoru coos, so painfully soft that you barely even hear it. the restlessness inside his own chest washed away, by the familairity of your body against his.
and before you know it, he’s dropped you down on the mattress. gently, but still enough to make you feel a little jostled, so close to falling asleep in his arms. he drags the blanket up to cover you, tucking you in; this one is bigger, with a fluffier texture, enough to cover you both with ease.
smiling softly at the sight of you all cozy, content in the knowledge that you’re finally comfortable, satoru crawls beneath the blanket and takes his rightful place beside you. eyes crinkled at the corners, rich with affection.
two strong arms reach around your waist, to pull you flush against him, until your head meets his chest and you can hear the soft thrumming of his heartstrings. then he sighs, in pure bliss, thoroughly content. melting into your embrace, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, nuzzling into the warmth that seeps from your body to his.
he runs his big hands down your back, affectionately, rubbing circles into your skin. coaxing you into melting a little, too.
”see, isn’t this much better?” he smiles, a little cheeky. such a tease.
”… the bathtub was fine.”
a chuckle rumbles through his chest, rich with fondness. his hand goes to card through your hair, nimble fingers smoothing down your scalp and running through the soft strands. every touch gentle, full of care. every word soaked in a syrupy sweetness.
”stubborn girl.”
despite your best wishes, you’re too tired to bite back the blissful sigh that leaves your lips. a part of you still wants to protest, to push him away —
but then you start leaning into his touch. helpless to his warm hands, his soothing voice. satoru is just a little too good at making you melt. so good that you finally begin to let your guard down, nuzzling into his bare skin, sinking a little further into the mattress.
and satoru stifles a coo.
”honestly,” he sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. ”sleeping in the bathtub… you’re so silly.”
before you have a chance to respond, he’s pulling back — ever so slightly, just to get a better look at your face. arms looped around his neck, you blink up at him with droopy eyes, and he can’t resist the dopey grin that sneaks its way onto his lips. doesn’t even begin to try, when you look so unbearably sweet.
unable to stop himself, he broaches the distance between you, leaning close to kiss the top of your nose. and you squeeze your eyes shut at the gesture, face scrunching up, but it only makes him chuckle. smiling, honey-sweet, he admires your sleepy pout. soaks up every soft little grumble that slips from your lips.
his hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb smoothing down your cheekbone. just gazing at you, taking you in, every single contour of your face. there is only adoration in his eyes. something silently delighted, that seeps into his words, his raspy voice.
”my pretty, pretty girl.”
a heat rushes to your cheeks. looking up at him, into those lovesick eyes, you can’t help but grow flustered.
he looks so content.
all you manage is a weak furrow of your brows, pressing a palm against his bare skin. softly, as if pushing him away, forehead meeting his chest with a soft bonk. hiding away, so he won’t see how much his words affect you.
”lemme sleep, toru…” you mumble, stifling a yawn.
unfortunately, your boyfriend is not one to give in so easily. before long, his fingertips are trailing across the skin of your jaw, coaxing you into lifting your chin. and you’re too sleepy to resist — practically melting, as he begins to smear openmouthed kisses all over your face. all you can do is close your eyes, attempting to ignore the sound of his exaggerated mwahs, frowning in a silent disapproval that you know you don’t actually mean.
satoru notices it, though. he always does.
”you still mad at me, baby?” he asks, in a way that sounds a little like he’s cooing at you. there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but it’s also a genuine question. your frown deepens.
averting your gaze with a soft huff, even as he cradles your jaw with his slender fingers, a pout plays at your lips. under his kind eyes, you feel just a bit meek — recalling your argument from before. absentmindedly, you fidget with the waistband of his shorts, hoping to ease your nerves.
despite your valiant efforts to direct your vocal cords in a different direction, the voice that spills from your lips comes out sounding just a tad hurt.
”… you never take me seriously.”
satoru’s eyes soften.
his smile falters, by a hair, a brief stilling of movement. subtle, but hard not to pick up on. there’s a certain sense of shame in his irises, a genuine guilt stirring his heartstrings; several discomforting sensations, gnawing at the bones of his ribcage.
(you look so small.)
two hands reach out to cup your cheeks, big and warm. swallowing up your whole face. and before you can react, satoru leans in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your lips. he tastes like tiramisu.
”’m sorry. we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he hums, and you can tell that he means it. ”i promise that i’ll take you seriously. for real, this time.”
as you look into those eyes of his, blue and soft around the edges, the last of your frustration is finally washed away. with a meek downward glance, and a faint nod, satoru relaxes — releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. relieved at your silent forgiveness.
tomorrow, he’ll definitely make it up to you. he’ll hear you out, without opening his big mouth, or trying to skirt around any emotions that make him feel even slightly uncomfortable. smoothing a big palm down your back, he hopes you feel it as a silent apology.
for now, he’ll just hold you. he’ll hold you, and kiss all your worries away, and keep you comfy and warm. that’s his duty. the only one he’d willingly choose, the only weight on his shoulders that never feels even a little bit suffocating. the only one he wouldn’t cast away, if given the chance.
nuzzling back into the safety of his collarbone, your heartbeat settles into a drowsy rhythm, slow and serene. satoru squeezes you in a tight hug, reassuring. comforting.
he can be a handful, and a little insensitive, but you love him a lot. you can’t imagine not loving him.
”… goodnight, toru,” you whisper. ready to give into sleep’s call, at last.
satoru smiles. you can hear it in his voice, sweet and silky, a soft curl of his lips. ”goodnight, honey,” he presses a kiss against your shoulder. warm, his breath on your skin. ”i love you.”
a yawn escapes your throat. ”love you too…” you mumble, sleepily. that one soft truth, before your consciousness fades.
and satoru’s smile only grows. hopelessly, inevitably, in the same way his hands can’t help but to bring you closer. until your heart is flush against his own, and he swears he can feel your heartbeats synchronize.
finally, with those three little words, satoru should be able to go to sleep. drifting off, he can only hope you’ll still be in his arms by the time he awakens.
(then again; you always are, aren’t you?)
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I think that c!Jimmy liked being a Bad Boy and a Big Dog because for once in this series a role let him be reckless without being mocked/put down by his allies and without truly harming anyone through the risks he took. In this essay I will explore his character through this lens
Jimmy is an extremely optimistic character, almost always seen smiling and laughing about whatever’s going on. Not in the sense that he laughs when he’s nervous, but in the sense that he makes light of whatever scenario he’s in. On a deeper level, this also translates into overconfidence in a glass-half-full type of way. If there’s a chance a plan could go south, he only focuses on the potential benefit. If there’s a chance he loses a fight, he only focuses on winning
This isn’t to say he’s unaware of negative outcomes, he just chooses to ignore them. The result is him making poor decisions over, and over, and over again. Jimmy knows exactly why he did that but from an outside perspective he’s regarded as stupid
This is seen as early as 3rd life, with Scott practically putting him on a leash to stop him from fighting Ren and his army. Specifically when they manage to chase Dogwarts away from Joel’s base, Jimmy goes to give chase and Scott immediately stops him. They’ve won, and he doesn’t understand why Jimmy would push it further. Jimmy, on the other hand, is thinking about how they’ve been chased across the map like rabbits and knows DW will be back unless they establish themselves as a threat. Now’s the perfect time, since they have the upper hand
But again, Scott doesn’t see this. In his mind, the battle is won and they shouldn’t expend more time, energy, or resources on it. Ultimately he doesn’t want to see Jimmy hurt and believes that restricting what Jimmy does will protect him from harm
I think this shows a fundamental difference in how they interact with the world. Scott’s more practical- he only does what he feels is necessary and is humble enough to know when the risk isn’t worth the reward. Jimmy, on the other hand, wants to test the limits and see what he’s able to accomplish through, once again, taking unnecessary risks.
But this is where things get messy
Again, there is a fundamental difference in their thought processes. This causes them to clash, and since Scott is the one who held more “power” in the relationship (being the one to decide many aspects of their base and being the one to make most deals and plans for the both of them), resulted in Scott putting Jimmy down A Lot. This started with Jimmy returning from the desert without several of the armor pieces he left with and continued throughout the war.
Jimmy, in response to this treatment, started acting More reckless as a means to prove himself. He wanted to be seen as just as strong, smart, and capable as the people around him. Ultimately, he wanted to be respected in his own right, and that didn’t really happen this season!
Nor did it happen in LL,
LL was an entire mess for so many reasons and most of it was due to the game mechanic itself. Lives being treated as currency caused rifts in many alliances, especially the Southlands
This coupled with the fact that Jimmy is already back in 3L habits, trying to prove himself constantly, makes an incredibly messy situation. His efforts in monopolizing sugar cane are downplayed and mocked, he spends so much time getting spyglasses just for Mumbo to lose them. These are meant to be harmless jokes (and really, they are) but Jimmy’s coming off of an unbalanced power dynamic and a tiny bit of it eats away at him and he can’t figure out Why.
Jimmy doesn’t understand why he doesn’t feel valued in the team, so he starts looking at arbitrary reasons Why. The reason he settles on is the life count, with Grian’s death making it known that Yellow-Names are on the brink of being exiled.
This comes back to the game mechanic. Jimmy sees Martyn with four lives, with the ability to either a) bring Grian back to Yellow or b) offer a Yellow-Name in the alliance a life to keep them safe, and Martyn Doesn’t. This tells Jimmy that Martyn either doesn’t trust him or doesn’t value him enough to even attempt to protect him
I think this was even voiced a couple of times during LL, with Martyn closely guarding his lives and finding every reason he could to justify it (he was fully in the right for keeping them, even if doing so hurt others). Jimmy backed off, but there was just a small amount of bitterness that lingered
With Martyn, I think Jimmy picked up on the fact that Martyn was more concerned with protecting his Alliance than the people in it. He needed a group around him, but wasn’t terribly concerned with them otherwise
And that’s what fueled his decision to steal the life. If Martyn doesn’t respect him, if he doesn’t trust him, if he doesn’t care enough to protect him, why should Jimmy do the same. Why should he be a human shield for someone who barely looks his way. Impulse and Mumbo could stay if they wanted, but he wasn’t going to
Which makes it hurt so much more when Martyn asks to run away with him, when Martyn says he cares about Jimmy more than anyone else in the alliance. I want to remind you, Jimmy’s an optimist. He looks at the half-full cup. He doesn’t consider Martyn could be lying because he wanted so badly to just be Seen. So Jimmy gives it back
As it turns out, Martyn was lying. He calls him an idiot, and Jimmy is exiled immediately
All the resolve that Jimmy had in stealing the life crumbles then and there. He starts hanging around the Southlands alliance like a lost puppy, basically begging them to take him back. Martyn’s little ruse inadvertently showed Jimmy that, really, all he wanted is to be valued and supported. The life counts stops being an issue because he’s able to recognize the real issue- he feels undervalued and he feels stupid
That’s a factor even after the Southlands reunites, after he’s almost unanimously voted back in but Grian’s insistent on a recount. I think it’s the main reason why he’s so risky when he goes down to red- with him falling for a trap that he easily could have avoided
Again, it’s the same as 3L. He feels disrespected and undervalued so he takes unnecessary risks in order to prove to himself and to others that he’s just as strong, just as smart, and just as capable as they are.
This is later coupled with Mumbo’s extreme bloodlust when he turns Red. On Red, Mumbo was needlessly violent and is basically the only Red to swing at anything that moved. And I do mean Needlessly violent, he got himself and others into several dicey scenarios because he was impulsive and wanted to Stab. He gave the server a reason to be cautious of Mumbo and any other Red-Name. If Mumbo was a loose cannon, how would others be?
Except Mumbo was only aggressive towards Non-Reds (obviously) and was otherwise supportive of those on his side
I think this actually greatly influenced Skizz’s decision to leave BEST behind, with him seeing Mumbo as someone worth defending/standing by. Not only was he a visibly strong ally with a reputation, he genuinely cared for and supported those who were at his side. In Skizz’s case, he offered a source of stability where BEST couldn’t, and I think the same is true for Jimmy.
Jimmy sees this, and sees Mumbo as someone who can both show him how to be dangerous and respect his abilities in this game. Mumbo was respected as a threat and genuinely cared for those in his company. So he’s the perfect ally, right?
Actually, no, and this isn’t where the Skizz comparison ends either. Remember, Mumbo created the reputation that Reds are a worthy threat and that they’re violent without cause (“oh but what about Joel?” Joel was a joke at best and an annoyance at worst. He I think he definitely did influence Mumbo’s actions but that’s another essay entirely). Mumbo influenced Skizz’s aggression this season, with him becoming more bold in who he threatened or even attacked
So how does this compare to Jimmy? Both of them were coming off of alliances where they were unsupported, so they leaned more into Mumbo’s habits- good and bad. Except they didn’t really see it. Good traits were associated with Mumbo, their friend, and bad traits were associated with their shared condition, their Red-Life.
The plan to trap the bunker played on both, but was coupled with Jimmy’s bad habit of shooting for the best possible outcome. Mumbo had previously turned tail and ran whenever a plan went south, but that’s not how Jimmy is. Jimmy only focuses on the possible gain and ignores possible dangers. When the trap didn’t set off, he insisted on pushing Grian into it. And that actually goes back to him trying to chase Ren’s army- he didn’t know when to call it quits
And of course this causes both of their deaths. To Jimmy, his death caused Mumbo’s. He caused the death of the one ally who actually stood by him. I think this is when he fully internalizes criticism from 3L and LL as a whole. He feels weak, he feels stupid, he doesn’t feel nearly as capable as those around him.
And this carries into DL
Except DL was a much different season than the previous two. The soulmate mechanic in DL meant that you and your ally have to rely on each other, you have to support each other because failing to do so will surely spell your doom
Not only that, but Jimmy was finally paired with a supportive ally from the start. They made their base together because they trusted the other to build more than they trusted themself. When Jimmy came back with cows, Tango’s immediate response was to exclaim “you’re amazing!!!” Instead of criticizing him like previous alliances had- even back in 3L!! This is the first time Jimmy got a fully positive response to his efforts. Tango was overwhelmingly supportive towards Jimmy and Jimmy returned the favor. The base didn’t look perfect, but it was theirs. The server didn’t want them to have a horn so they devised a plan to get one.
Tango had also been following a similar arc up until now- with him being undervalued by his alliances. Except in those alliances, he was pushed to the side or physically harmed instead of being an object of ridicule. I think this is part of why it isn’t really out of place for them to meet through dying. Tango was expecting to be harmed and so was Jimmy, so neither of them blame the other
With Tango being pushed to the side, he also shied away from leadership positions, finding it more comfortable to follow. This paired well with how Jimmy typically takes charge of things, with Jimmy making most plans for the both of them (most, not all)
But again, this is where things get messy
Remember, Jimmy uses risks to prove his worth. He wants to see what he can do, but is also still recovering from previous seasons. He still thinks he’s the reason why him and Mumbo died, and doesn’t want to cause the death another ally, especially one who loves him. Instead of staying careful, he devises a plan to steal livestock, to steal Scar’s horse. It’s for the ranch, it’s for Tango
I think Jimmy realizes the problem when the Ranch is burned. He’s forced to confront this when he sees Tango fly into a rage and almost try to fight a group of people he’d surely lose to. Jimmy cannot be reckless here, he has to talk Tango down from the proverbial ledge.
With this, the roles end up reversing, with Tango being the reckless one and Jimmy trying to steer him to be more tactical. And Jimmy is So careful about this too, not wanting to act like Scott or the Southlands. Because of that he never actually tells Tango no on his dangerous plans- ESPECIALLY the plan to release Rancher’s Revenge, the warden- but instead suggests ways to make the plan better
The dilemma here is that Jimmy needs to choose between being risky and being safe. Both would benefit Tango, except Jimmy knows from experience how much it hurts to be bound in bubble-wrap all the time
Jimmy sees no way to avoid risks without hurting Tango. So instead of fighting against that part of himself, Jimmy leans into it. He accepts it as a key tenet of his identity, even as it puts the both of them in harms way. Yes they went down in the end, but they went down together, Always Together.
It didn’t matter if Jimmy was a “worthy” ally, he didn’t need to be Smart, he didn’t need to be Strong, he didn’t even need to be Capable. He learned that he deserved love not in spite of his flaws, but alongside his flaws.
And this is the lesson he carries into the next two Seasons, with both alliances being fully centered on being reckless
The Bad Boys acted dangerously, but they acted as a unit- ESPECIALLY him and Joel. Bad Boys dig straight down, Bad Boys water bucket clutch from the build limit, Bad Boys care about each other not in spite of endangering themselves, but because of it
And this is because Joel had a nearly identical arc. Joel in previous seasons had a habit of acting recklessly in the same way Jimmy did, and was cast aside because of it. In 3L he ended up a Lone Wolf, in LL he was forced into a position where he’s the villain, and in DL he and Etho leaned into the danger in the same way Jimmy and Tango did. Their stories run parallel so it only makes sense that they’re the ones who end up supporting each other in LimL
And Joel was Jimmy’s main source of support that season, with Grian representing the criticism of previous seasons. This gave Jimmy the ability to confront said criticisms through, again, leaning into them. He did something stupid? Yes, but him and Joel were having fun. A plan went south because of unnecessary risks? Yes, but Joel was being risky with him. Joel gave Jimmy the ability to basically cut through the aforementioned “bubble wrap” Grian was trying to put around them
And I think it’s also important to mention Grian did this out of both love and cowardice, not malice. Ultimately he didn’t want to lose either of them and was trying to keep them alive longer. But because Grian never learned the lesson they did- that it’s more important to act together than to survive alone- Grian chooses survival and ends up alone.
Anyways, recklessness being the foundation of Jimmy’s alliances carries into SL as well
Jimmy was on the brink of death for almost the entire season, man was not thriving whatsoever and that was known. Funnily enough, he ends up with Martyn, who again was previously more concerned with his own safety than the people around him
But Martyn is just coming off of a victory, of finally achieving the very thing he’d been working towards and the thing he centered his motivations on. Without that goal, he’s left with his methods- which was mostly having dangerous ideas and seeing them through
With Jimmy, Martyn introduced plans that involved them being risky and in everyone else’s faces. This, to Jimmy, echoed both Joel and Tango’s behavior. He was able to fully settle into the fact that, for him, good things come from being reckless, from shooting for the best possible outcome and refusing to back down
Jimmy maintains his optimism and his recklessness, traits that had previously been challenged but traits he stubbornly holds onto and values in his Life
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