#but going down different paths in the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oomiya · 1 day

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HIS HEART BEATS FOR. gojo satoru x reader

summary: when a series of events–and an unfortunate miscommunication courtesy of nobara–sends you spiraling down an unknown path with your oldest friend, how else are you supposed to handle it with panic? then again, maybe if you knew, and if satoru knew, that you were running out of time, you would've handled everything a little bit differently. too bad hindsight is 20/20.

warnings: heavy angst, major character death, spoilers, mentions of blood/slight violence, smut (minors do not interact), unprotected sex, car sex, cursing, fem reader (she/her pronouns), possible slight canon inaccuracies, miscommunications, this does not have a happy ending #sorry

word count: 9.1k

a/n: my first fic back on tumblr ! this is kinda not great, goes from 0 to 100 real quick cause i have no patience, and is a little bit all over the place but oh well. all the love <3

It left a bitter taste on your tongue.

The look on his face–strained, tight around his eyes with a loose grin that looked too forced to really be his–caused a flighty, anxious feeling to crawl in your chest. It filled you unforgivingly, carving out any extra space and constricting your heart until you swore it wouldn’t be able to beat anymore.

Your response–or, you suppose, your lack of one–caused the man in front of you to scoff derisively. His fingers tightened on the back of the couch, and if you hadn’t been fighting the thoughts swarming in your head and the multitude of uncomfortable feelings from eviscerating your bleeding heart, maybe you would have seen how he squeezed until his knuckles turned white.

“If you can’t figure it out by now, then–geez, I don’t know–then I guess I don’t have anything else to say.”

You hated yourself for not having anything to say. Or, you did have things to say–fuck, you wanted to simultaneously smack a palm upside his head like you did when you were teenagers and pull the back of his neck until your lips met in a frantic, terrifying kiss–but all the words that could have led you there turned to ash in your mouth.

“I–I don’t–” You hated yourself for stuttering, but the ash suddenly turned to a thick, heady cement glued to your tongue. So, you shook your head, took a deep breath. Anything to shake the choking feeling that suffocated you.

But you took too long. Your silence was all he needed–all he needed to misunderstand. A look of shocked hurt crossed his face–that easy but not-so-truthful grin faltering–and all you could do was hang your head and squeeze your eyes shut as the tears prickled like tiny thorns in the corners of your lashes and the cement coagulated so much that you swore you could taste it.

This was for the best, this was for the best, this was for the best–

Gojo Satoru turned away from you, and if you knew you didn’t have more time, you might’ve stopped him. If you knew he was going to leave, and you were going to die, maybe you would’ve been able to speak.

It’s for the best, for the best, this was for the best.

He stopped in your doorway, lingered in it uncomfortably with a hand held restlessly against the wall. He turned his head slightly to speak to you but barely looked at your eyes.

“‘M not gonna say sorry,” he stated, voice quieter than usual. Like all the humor had been sucked out of his life.

You swallowed thickly, no longer fighting the tears as they fell in fat streaks down your cheeks, and refused to look at him. You think that if you did, you might not have the strength to hold your ground.

After all, you weren’t as strong as him.

Without another word, you watched from the corner of your eye as Satoru faltered–pausing with his lips parted as if he had more he wanted to say–but then he firmly closed his mouth, his hand left your doorframe, and he left your apartment.

He never came back, and you would never see Gojo Satoru again.

But a few weeks previously, you were feeling a bit less tragic.

Satoru was, too, apparently, as he grinned at you from your position on the ground. All you could do was glare in return, irrationally peeved at the way his height towered over you as he stood; you felt a strong urge to punch his shadow.

“You callin’ it?” your insufferable ass of a friend asks, and you finally manage to gather yourself and your dignity off the grass.

“Maybe,” you huff, rubbing your palms roughly against your pants to rid them of dirt and grass. The rain from the previous evening left the ground damp; you consider yourself lucky that all the mud puddles had already dried–you’re sure Satoru wouldn’t have hesitated if there was a brackish puddle near your vicinity.

“Mmm–” he clicked his tongue, “–Need a better answer than that, sweetheart.”

You let out a scoff of laughter at the not-so-endearing term. “You know I hate when you call me that,” you reminded him. Leaning down, you brushed your hands down your legs to rid the fabric of any creases formed from the intense training session.

You’d never give Satoru the satisfaction of letting him know that he beat your ass–and probably would tomorrow, too.

“Why d’ya think I keep calling you that?” the aforementioned object of your ire grinned, smug.

Satisfied with your work–and almost entirely convinced that you were once again rendered presentable–you stood again, hands on your hips as you appraised the tall man. “That’s rude.”

Satoru replied without missing a beat. “Nah, that’s just me. But hey–we still on for food tonight?”

“Always. And unfortunately for me, I think I’m stuck with you,” you sigh, not bothering to look back at him as you turn away, starting the trek back to the main campus building. While Satoru didn’t practice with the full force of his limitless, he still insisted on training you far away from his younger students.

If you thought too long about that, it causes a painful prick to embed itself in your heart.

“Damn right, you are,” Satoru states, hands shoved in his black pants pockets. He fishes around for a second–you narrow your gaze at him, distrustful–before he pulls out a wrapped cherry-flavored sucker. Ah, the taste of artificial corn syrup and starch.

“Begrudgingly, mind you,” you state.

“If you say so.” Satoru pops the sucker into his mouth and falls in step with you, matching your pace as he has for years.

Your gaze drifts to his feet, and that painful splinter shoves itself further inside.

You swallow thickly–as if that could help tamp down the surge of affection you feel for him. “I do,” you shrug; then, to take your mind off that uncomfortable feeling that’s making itself much more comfortable in your chest, you ask, “So, how are the kiddos?”

“Nothin’ but troublemakers,” he says, voice now a bit muffled around the sweet treat, and the laugh he lets out betrays any true meaning behind his words. “Think they’re giving me a few white hairs. Look–” Satoru points to his ruffled hair– pushed up by that black blindfold you occasionally want to pull down–with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Oh, he makes jokes. How cute,” you tease, voice lilting in amusement. “But hey–they’re your troublemakers.”

“Ha–that’s what I tell people about you,” Satoru replies.

“Funny,” you respond flatly. “But seriously, how are they?”

“They’re good, I think,” he replies thoughtfully, head tilted towards the sky as if admiring the still-gray clouds. You find yourself thinking that you wouldn’t be all that surprised if he could see through that blindfold.

You walk in still silence for a moment, but the pensive look causing a downturn of Satoru’s mouth, coupled with the hints from his previous statement, fills you with apprehension. You feel yourself tense when he sighs, head falling from the sky to look at you.

At least, that’s what you assume. But even through the eye-covering, you swear you can feel his piercing gaze unwaveringly on you.

“You know,” he draws out the word, and you bite your lip anxiously at his tone, “they could be your kiddos, too.”

You try not to pay too much attention to the current subject, instead trying to let it simply roll off your shoulders. “Oh, I know. You never let me forget it.”

But Satoru is used to this. “‘Cause you never give me an answer I like,” he retorts.

You can’t hold back the groan from falling from your mouth. “Satoru,” you grit out. “Are we really having this argument again?”

The man beside you shrugs, kicking a stray rock in your direction. Despite the vague sense of annoyance you now feel, you stop the rock with the side of your foot easily before kicking it back to Satoru. Maybe using a bit more force than necessary.

This topic has often been one of contention between you and Satoru. Unbeknownst to you, the man has always believed that the school could become even more invaluable if you were a teacher among its ranks. He’s been trying to recruit you for years–ever since he became a teacher and you moved on to pursue your passions. You don’t know where your hesitance to teach comes from–maybe it’s not even hesitance to teach, but instead, the love you have for the work you’re doing in your current field. Whatever it is, your answer to Satoru has never changed.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t feel a bit of guilt every time he asks.

“Doesn’t have to be an argument. Could be an agreement, instead,” Satoru attempts to convince you, and just when you start to feel a trace of remorse for how quickly you turned him down—again–he murmurs under his breath, “if only someone wasn’t so hard-headed.”

Indignation flattens that remorse.

“Me?” you point to yourself, brows raised in disbelief. “I’m the stubborn one? Are you really the one to be dishing it, Gojo?”

At the sudden use of his last name, Satoru visibly shrinks back. After years of friendship, your use of any name that isn’t his first habitually strikes fear in him–the feeling not unlike receiving a scolding when he was a child.

“You know that’s not how I meant it,” he attempts to explain his poor judgment.

“Satoru, you know I love my job too much. Plus, I just don’t think I’m cut out to teach like you are. Or like how you think I am.” But you relent, wordlessly accepting his hidden apology.

Not that you were ever really upset about that, anyways.

Satoru easily semi-changed the subject. He never really was one to back down. “Ah, I knew it! You think I’m a great teacher. Now, if you could just relay that opinion to Megumi somehow–”

“I think we’ve already established that you’re a funny guy, and we can both agree that I’m great, right? But I’m no miracle worker. Sorry ‘Toru,”

The slight tension from before eases away just like that, faster than it came, and an immense feeling of gratitude for your friend sits on your tongue. You look up at Satoru, an awkward ‘thanks’ hanging in the air between you.

As if sensing how you’re torn–firm in your resolution to not give in to him, yet feeling bad all the same–Satoru softens, nudging your arm with his. No words are needed.

“I’d feel hurt if I wasn’t still annoyed about the whole teaching thing. But, in all realness, you know the kids love you–”

“Well, that’s a given. Everyone loves me,” you remind him flatly.

“Yes, especially me. Which is why I would only tell you this–I need your help,” his sudden seriousness, something that is far-and-few-between with him, immediately makes you curious.

“You’ve got my attention,” you tell him seriously, knocking your elbow against his. He quickly returns the gesture, making something twist in your heart.

He pauses as if taking a steadying breath. “I think you’d do great stuff here. And I could use the extra help. I wanna do right by these kids, even though I don’t make it obvious sometimes,” Satoru implores, and you can hear the unmistakable earnestness in his tone. It’s only apparent to those who truly know him and those for whom he allows most of his walls down. Gojo Satoru is a mysterious person, sometimes seeming inscrutable to outsiders.

You pride yourself as one of the few people who truly knows him.

“Satoru, you literally let the new first years take care of an unregistered special grade a few months ago,” you joke, recalling how Nobara and Yuuji returned from that abandoned warehouse a little worse for wear. But Nobara and Yuuji took everything in stride and were bickering as if they’d been friends for years. You knew Satoru had been proud.

The man in question merely waves his hand, as if ridding the air of the subject. “You know that practical shit is how they learn–it’s how we learned,” he justifies, and a small part of you can’t help but to agree with him. “But I will admit that you just made my point. With everything going on lately…I don’t know. I have a bad feeling. I could use the extra hands.”

You hesitate. You can’t help it–you’ve always had a weak spot regarding Gojo Satoru. “Have you even asked Yaga about this? I don’t know, Satoru…” you trail off, unable to find the right words.

“Let me handle Yaga,” Satoru reassures you. “Just promise me you’ll think about it?”

You pause, thinking about it seriously for a moment. In that time, you can see how Satoru grows impatient, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet beside you. All you can do is groan.

“Fine. I’ll think about it,” you raise a finger, as if trying to halt Satoru’s excitement from bursting. “But just think about it. I’m not promising anything.”

His grin becomes all-encompassing and almost all-consuming. You can’t help but be drawn to it, just like your heart can’t help but skip a beat at the joy that exudes from the tall man from a mere sentence.

“Ah, I’m not worried. I’m sure I’ll be able to convince you,” Satoru states, now standing tall with his shoulders back. He’s clearly pleased with himself, and you can’t help but laugh a bit.

“Satoru, did you hear what I just said?” you ask, but you can’t help the amusement decorating your tone.

“I heard. I’m just choosing to be optimistic.”

“‘Optimistic’. Is that what the kids call delusional these days?” you ask, a finger poised on your chin in thought.

You see Satoru’s cogs turning as he tries to quickly think of a response, but just as he opens his mouth to quip back, the two of you are pleasantly interrupted.

“Who are we calling delusional?” Megumi asks as the group of first years pops up from behind you. You turn around to greet them with a genuine smile, and Nobara gleefully exclaims your name.

The younger girl happily pulls you in for a hug, and you immediately return it.

“Your teacher over there,” you explain to them, moving your head to look around Nobara at the other two in her group. You nod to Satoru, who immediately rolls his eyes.

“Well, we already do that,” Megumi states listlessly. This causes your friend to jump in to defend himself, and Yuuji quickly joins him.

You turn your attention to Nobara, who’s pulling away and ushering you away from the boys.

“They’re too loud. Like, all the time. Or–Yuuji is,” she explains, sighing frustratedly. “I wish I had been in your class. Or, that there were at least a few other girls with me. I can’t handle those two all on my own sometimes.”

You can’t help the warmth you feel at her words, nostalgia ricocheting you back to your school days. The fond memories of your classmates are ones you cherish–spending warm spring days hiding from the sun under a large tree, Shoko and Utahime occasionally bickering affectionately before Shoko tapped on the other girl’s head with her knuckles, lounging as ‘Toru and Suguru got into some type of trouble–

And the thought of your other classmate–the lost one, the boy with long black hair he often kept tied up except on the days that he didn’t–is what grounds you back in the present.

While your smile is still genuine, the remembrance of him causes it to feel a bit more forced.

“Well, it wasn’t always as great as you’re imagining,” you explain to Nobara softly, moving your hand to gently ruffle her hair. “Plus–you have Maki. Doesn’t matter all that much that she’s a grade above you.”

She gently swats your hand away, but you’re relieved to see her still smiling. You remember how difficult it was to sometimes corral Satoru and Suguru.

As if a brilliant thought just entered her mind, Nobara’s eyes went wide with mirth. The look wasn’t unlike that of Yuuji’s–or even Satoru’s–mischievousness.

Brows furrowed, you hastily tried to intercept her thoughts, glancing up briefly to see how Yuuji is keeping Megumi and Satoru occupied with some kind of story.

“What’s that look for?” you ask as you look back at Nobara, only a little bit wary.

She grasps your hands conspiratorially, barely containing her giddiness. “So…how’s the guy?”

Nobara wiggles her brows–as if begging you to let her in on a secret–and the realization comes flooding in.

“Practically nonexistent,” you tell her, but the younger girl doesn’t let you off the hook that easily.

Her brows furrow like she’s frustrated, or maybe about to scold you, and her hold on your hands turns firm. “What do you mean? Oh, don’t tell me–” she starts, eyes widening almost comically in realization. “Did the date go bad?”

At the word ‘date,’ you practically watch as Satoru’s head jerks to face the two of you. However, before he can ask, someone else beats him to it.

“Date?” Yuuji asks, his attention swiveling to you, too. “You had a date?”

Megumi intercepts by knocking Yuuji on his head. “That’s none of your business, Itadori.”

“What?” Yuuji looks at Megumi, his features akin to appallment. “Nobara’s the one who brought it up,” he grumbles.

“That’s because I’m closer to her than you two dimwits are,” Nobara states, pointing to the two of you.

The following ensuing argument pulls Nobara’s attention away from you; but you’re not fooled. You know you can only escape her and her relentless questions for so long.

“I didn’t know you had a date.”

Sometime during the few seconds you were mindlessly distracted, Satoru apparently sidled up next to you. He’s warm despite the overcast day, and you can feel it as he accidentally brushes his arm against yours.

Your wishful thinking has you hoping that, maybe, it wasn’t an accident.

And you wouldn’t know until later, but you were right.

Brushing off the unbidden thoughts, you cross your arms and watch as the young students continue to bicker. “Are you asking a question?” you ask, refusing to look at Satoru.

He doesn’t hold the same notion. You can tell he’s looking at you–can practically feel his gaze on your face. You do your best to ignore it.

“Why didn’t I know you had a date?” he asks instead, and if you were paying more attention, you might’ve caught the slightly irritated twinge in his voice.

You make a noncommittal sound. “You didn’t ask.”

“Don’t act like that,” he says.

“Like what?”

“Like how you’re acting.”

“Satoru,” you groan, feeling your resolve chip away with his needling. “‘Cause there was nothing to tell! It was a guy from work, and we had a date, and that was the end of it–”

“But what happened?” Nobara says your name, suddenly cutting it. “You were really excited about it. Remember–you were talking to Shoko about it that one morning?”

You remember, all right. You’d been hopeful and filled with a little bit of anticipation for the date–a cute guy who’d been flirting with you for a few months at work. He was sweet, and boyish, with glasses and light curly hair that was sometimes a bit messy. You can’t deny that you didn’t like the attention at least a little bit, so when he asked you to dinner one day, leaning across your desk with a sheepish, kind of shy, grin, you couldn’t help but accept.

The next day, after trying and failing to find Satoru, you ran into Shoko in the hallways of the school. Being one of your oldest friends–outside of ‘Toru–and after being unable to find the man, you spilled all the details to her.

Shoko listened dutifully, one hand on her hip as she listened to your jumbled nerves that kept spilling out. Then, the one grievance.

But what about Satoru?

This caused Shoko to raise a brow, not condescendingly. “What about him?” she asked.

You were thoroughly stopped in your tracks. She had a point–what about him? Where did that even come from? Of course, you had some idea–the steadily growing feelings of something had been ever-present and ever-annoying, but in the previous few months, they’d gotten worse. They’d been taking root, pushing aside any sort of logic or reason that told you that falling for your closest friend was a bad idea–the worst, actually.

But you did your best to ignore them, and you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t falling.

“Sorry–nothing,” you shook your head–like you were shaking the thoughts off.

Shoko looked at you disbelievingly. “You sure about that?” she asked, clearly skeptical. “Because that sounds like a shitty excuse if I’ve ever heard one.”

Her words stayed with you, and later, you’d learned that Nobara had caught wind of the first part of your conversation with Shoko–the part where you’d been slightly gushing and airing all your nerves about the date to the older woman.

You’re eternally grateful Nobara had chosen to apparently slink away before catching the tail end of the discussion.

You shoot Nobara a glare. “You’re not helping,” you tell her, but she grins triumphantly.

“C’mon! I’m just trying to help you get a cute guy,” she states before offhandedly muttering, “One of us should.”

You wave your hands in an attempt to dispel the sudden miscommunication. Beside you, Satoru was stiff.

“I had a date; it was fine, end of the story,” you state clearly, looking at Nobara pointedly.

But your apparent firmness on the topic does nothing to stop the ever-curious girl. “Was it not good? Oh! Has he not texted you back?”

“Nobara!” you exclaim in disbelief, eyes wide at her insistence.

“What?” she shrugs. “From what I heard, it sounded like you really liked the guy.”

“All right!” Satoru announces out of the blue, clapping his hands to gather his students’ attention. You gratefully allow him to take over. “Don’t you guys have class soon?”

“Shoot!” Yuuji exclaims, hooking an arm through Megumi’s and pulling him forward. “Thanks! See you guys later!”

Megumi jerks out of Yuuji’s grasp and turns back around to wave. Nobara joins them, albeit trailing behind a bit, offering a doleful goodbye.

As they leave, you smile and offer a wave. Satoru still stands beside you, but you can tell that something is a little off. He’s more tense than usual, and his usual grin is absent.

You furrow your brows, but before you can ask if anything’s the matter, Satoru rounds on you, a slight grin hanging from his lips.

“So, we still on for dinner?” he asks, his vaguely strange behavior from earlier having disappeared almost entirely.

Almost.

With a belated nod, you take in his face. But Satoru betrays nothing.

“Sure,” you reaffirm, doing your best to forget Satoru’s minuscule change in demeanor.

You don’t.

If karma exists, you’re being hit with it in full force.

The evening came faster than you expected it to. You barely had enough time to return home, clean up, subsequently get yourself cleaned up, and grab your wallet before Satoru was waltzing through your apartment door like this was his second home.

Though to be fair, it kind of is.

The drive to the restaurant–yours and Satoru’s favorite place–felt short, and any traces of Satoru’s previously strange behavior had all but vanished. Instead, your typical, satisfied friend sat in the drivers seat.

Then, you arrived. At first, everything appeared normally. You were seated at your favorite table, started sipping on your drink, and stole bits of Satoru’s food when he acted like he wasn’t looking.

But then, after nearly choking when Satoru made a dumb joke, you caught sight of a vaguely familiar head of messy blonde curls.

Eyes narrowing, you move in your seat to get a better look at the familiar stranger. Then, you groan, because the head of light curls was most definitely not a stranger.

“Oh, fuck me,” you groan, dropping your gaze and cradling your head in your hand.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be entirely against it,” Satoru jokes, using his chopsticks to jab a piece of meat into his mouth.

You shoot him a scathing look, but your eyes widen when you realize that the waitress just so happened to sit your ex-date directly in your line of sight. And, therefore, place you directly in his line of sight. “Come on,” you groan.

“What? Sorry, I was only mostly joking about that other thing,” the man across from you replies, entirely unaware of your current plight.

You hastily reach for your bag, eyeing Satoru firmly, and you state, “Hurry up–we have to go.”

Satoru’s brows furrow. “What? No. You’re not even done eating,” he points to your plate with his chopsticks.

“Satoru!” you urge, not having the energy to go through the trials this morning and your awkward first-and-only date caused. You can’t help how your gaze suddenly splits to your ex-date across the room, hoping he hasn’t seen you.

However, you quickly come to find that he isn’t the one you should be worried about.

Satoru easily picks up on your rising panic, and with a brow raised in question, he turns to look over his shoulder at the object of your worry. It doesn’t take him long to connect the dots.

“Huh. That him?” Satoru asks, accidentally knocking his elbow against the table as he turns back around. He winces before leaning down to capture his drink’s straw between his lips.

“Wha–well…” you huff, doing your best to keep your head down to essentially hide behind Satoru.

He looks at you over his sunglasses–weirdo wears sunglasses even indoors, at night, you think offhandedly–thoroughly unimpressed.

“Cute,” Satoru states simply, voice only slightly on edge.

He stretches his long legs under the table, and you nearly jump when his knee accidentally brushes against yours.

“Exactly. So we need to leave. Please?” you plead with him, not having nerly enough patience to handle Satoru’s antics right now.

A strange look passes over Satoru’s face, but it’s gone faster than you can decipher.

“Or…” Satoru draws the word out, and a strangely foreboding feeling runs across your nerves. “We could stay. Make him jealous.”

If you had anything in your mouth, you would have promptly spit it out.

“What?” you ask, entirely dumbfounded. All you can do is stare at your friend, who’s looking almost too pleased with himself.

“What? Bad idea?” he asks with a slight frown.

“Uh, you think?” are the first words that instinctually come out of your mouth.

However, the more you think about it…

That budding emotion that’s been steadily rising in you for months rears its head again, and you find that when you go to shoot down Satoru’s suggestion, your mouth is suddenly dry. Flirting with Satoru…even the thought makes your heart crash against your chest, and you feel much too warm despite the restaurant’s air conditioning vent on the opposite wall. Of course, that’s supposing that’s what Satoru is implying. If not, well, you just made an entire fool of yourself.

“Ah, c’mon. You’re no fun,” Satoru stretches again, but this time, when his knee accidentally brushes against you, a flare of something fills you, and you curiously wonder if it was actually an accident.

You cough out a nervous laugh and reach for your drink. “No, I can be fun,” you suggest, but an undertone of something else makes its way into your voice.

Of course, Satoru being Satoru, he easily catches on. Something in his eyes shifts–you can see it as he continues peering at you from over his frames–and a tingly feeling starts in your fingertips at the look.

He still hasn’t moved his knee. Surprisingly–or maybe not so surprisingly–you don’t really want him to.

Satoru’s eyes never leave yours–piercing with some kind of question in them that you can’t entirely discern yet. It’s something familiar yet wholly unfamiliar as you watch it cross your friend’s face; familiar in that you’ve seen it before but never on Satoru’s face. Then, he swallows thickly, throat bobbing as if trying to push down a feeling that threatens to rise up on his features, and you suddenly know what that look is.

Affection, want. Desire.

“You can?” Satoru asks, and while you’d previously felt like you’d been frozen to your seat, the heaviness of his words is coated in a sweet, titillating warmth filled with possibilities that warm you through and through.

No longer worried about your ex-date seeing you, you break your gaze with Satoru. “Maybe,” you say, and your nerves cause only a slight tremble to your voice. “You’ve just never seen it.”

Satoru takes the bait. Or, maybe he was waiting for it all along. “Maybe I want to.”

Oh, his words cause an instant heat to rush through you, and anything outside your booth is suddenly drowned out. It’s like a haze has settled over you both, turning your brain into a vibrating mess of nothing but Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. It suddenly feels a bit harder to breathe, and you vaguely wonder how things have changed this rapidly. How the words and intentions between you and one of your oldest friends quickly went from cordial and friendly to being filled with unanswered questions and staggering but undeniable attraction.

But, you think, maybe that’s where you’re wrong. These feelings you have didn’t appear in the past ten minutes. You’ve felt them for a while, but for a million reasons that don’t seem like reason enough anymore, you can’t shake them.

And you don’t think you want to.

As you think about your words, you sip your drink again, wet condensation filling the spots between your fingers. It seems like Satoru is leaving the metaphorical ball in your court–endlessly selfless even if he often hides it behind lighthearted words and joking actions. And that reminder makes you feel endlessly grateful for him.

“Are you sure?” you ask, and a million questions lie within that one phrase. Is Satoru sure he knows what he’s implying–what you’re implying? Does he mean it, and if he does, is he certain of it? You feel like lightning is zipping through your veins, alighting every nerve you have.

Under the table, Satoru’s knee bounces a bit–almost like he’s nervous–and then you suddenly realize that he is. A surge of affection fills your heart and your chest, making you feel every kind of warmth that exists.

“Yeah,” is all Satoru says, and you think it’s all that he needs to say.

Your heartbeat is in your throat when you reply. “Maybe I want you to, too.”

It doesn’t take much longer for Satoru to have you on his lap in his car, lips hot and insistent on yours as he kisses you breathlessly, hungrily. One hand–large and slightly calloused–rests on your hip, and the realization that he’s touching you and kissing you and it feels so right almost causes you to forget how to breathe. All you can do is kiss him back, mouth opening in surprise at the feel of his hot tongue dragging against your bottom lip.

Satoru groans against you–a low, gravely sound–and it immediately has you pressing closer, greedily taking all of the affection he offers you. He’s everywhere–one hand pressing against your hip so hard that his fingertips turn pale, the other hand brushing against your face, throat, the back of your neck to pull you even closer. All you can smell is the deep, masculine scent that is simply Satoru, and it is merely one out of five hundred things at the moment that make you feel dizzy–like you might collapse in his hold if he wasn’t holding onto you so sweetly, so firmly.

Like he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“S-Satoru,” you say against his lips, voice breathy and pitched higher than usual. A sweet, seductive sound that Satoru has never heard before that, if you weren’t mistaken, causes him to suddenly tense with arousal against you.

“Say it again,” Satoru nips against your bottom lip, pulling away only slightly to stare at your swollen lips, chest heavily panting. The sunglasses are long discarded–tossed haphazardly in the passenger's seat, and the sight of his eyes blown out and demanding is something that causes pleasure to pool heavy in your gut.

Your eyes dart between his, chests meeting as the both of you pant into the limited space separating you. His breath is hot as it fans across your face, and you can’t help but lean down to press your lips against his once more.

“Satoru,” you murmur, lips brushing against his.

The hunger that flashes across his features is something you think you’ll dream about forever.

The next few minutes pass by in a pleasure-filled blur. You don’t remember who moved first, but soon, your pants are discarded carelessly–just as Satoru’s sunglasses were–and his are shoved down his legs. You’re grinding against his pretty, hard cock, pressing your clit against the flushed head every time you rock your hips back down, and Satoru’s hand is up your shirt, pressing your bra up, until your breasts are free and he can grope them. The sight is enough to have you moaning again, seeing the man underneath you flushed with swollen lips and his hand squeezing the fat of your chest.

“Fuck, they’re so nice. So pretty,” Satoru says quietly–almost like he’s not even talking to you–before leaning down and mouthing along your nipple. A gasp gets caught in your throat at the feeling of his soft lips wrapping around your breast, nerves feeling as if they’re standing on end as, at the same time, his fingers press between your legs to swipe against your clit.

“Oh–shit,” you curse at the feeling of pleasure, winding taut and tight as Satoru continues touching you, unraveling you for him.

“Mmm, I never hear you swear,” Satoru grins against your skin, tongue darting out to taste your nipple. He blows on the spit then, and it’s enough to have goosebumps crawling across your skin, and you can’t help but arch against him. “It’s cute.”

Even with his hand shoved between your bodies and fingers pressed tight to your clit, his cock hard and throbbing with every little gasp you let out, Satoru still manages to get under your skin in the best way possible.

Gritting your teeth, you pull away to glare at him, making him release your breast from his mouth. “Satoru,” you nearly groan, unable to stop from grinding against his hand as one, then two, fingers easily press inside you.

“Hm?” he hums under his breath, a slight grin tugging at his lips.

“Are you going to fuck me, or keep teasing the both of us?” You ask, raising a brow and pressing a hand to his chest.

For a moment, other than the two fingers he keeps crooked inside you, easily pressing up, up until he’s massaging against that sweet spot inside you, Satoru pauses. His grin is bright, excited, slightly cocky, and he keeps slowly opening you up, making you lose nearly all sense of reason as his cock throbs against your inner thigh. It appears as though he might’ve said something, but the way you rest, poised above him, cunt all soft and wet and ready for him, your hands on his body, Satoru sinks against his chair with a sigh.

“Wish I could take my time with you,” Satoru says quietly, fingers pushing inside your cunt then pulling out to rub your own slick against your clit. The sensation almost has you keening, and you have to bite your lip to prevent an embarrassing sound from falling past your lips.

“Another time,” you say, not entirely thinking what those words could mean.

Satoru’s breath visibly hitches at your words, and it’s easy to help him adjust so that you’re hovering over his heavy cock, hot and warm in your grasp, before you sink down on him with hardly any resistance.

“Fuck–” Satoru grounds out, head falling against his seat at the feeling of you dropping your hips to take all of him. You’re in no better shape, hands moving to press against his chest as Satoru’s cock presses into you–deep, deeper than you could’ve imagined–and you hastily grind against his lap to feel the heavier weight of him inside you.

“Oh–” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as you circle your hips again in an effort to feel him nudging against that spot inside you again.

“F-fuck–don’t do that–shit–won’t last long,” Satoru hisses through his teeth, large palms soothing over your back to press against you. He pulls you closer, deeper against his hips, and the new angle has his cock feeling even bigger and heavier inside you.

“Can’t help it,” you reply, your hand turning into a fist against his shoulder, and you slowly lift off him. It doesn’t take long for you to set a steady rhythm–rising off his cock before pressing back down, circling your hips and grinding against him to feel how the head of his cock nudges that spot inside you that has you clenching and moaning his name.

“Well, help it,” Satoru nearly seethes, and when his hips rise up to meet you, all you can do is gasp out his name and take the pleasure he gives you.

“I’ll do my best,” you tell him, but the words feel airy and meaningless when Satoru begins rubbing your clit again, causing that coil to tighten even more.

“Not gonna last long like this,” Satoru groans, hand tightening on your hip as he fucks up into you. Your cunt feels hot and wet, taking his cock in over and over with his every thrust up into your heat.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself agreeing with Satoru. The sight of the man quickly unraveling beneath you–thighs tense, cock disappearing between your thighs every time you sink down on him, his hands held tight and secure on your waist to keep you on him, and pale hair unruly–it itches a pleasure-filled part of your brain and causes your tongue to feel heavy in your mouth.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, hand moving to cup the back of his neck to pull his lips to yours. Satoru obliges quickly, moaning against your open-mouthed kiss. He never stops pressing against your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as you rock yourself over his cock. Moaning, you undulate your hips, aching to feel even more of him, to feel him even deeper. Satoru seems to like this, his grip on you bruising and tight every time he presses his hips back up against your own, chasing a release you know is close by the way his eyes fall shut, and his groin tightens.

“Did you mean it?” he suddenly asks, mumbling against your lips, holding your body tight against his.

“Mean what?” you return, lashes fluttering and a sound of pleasure caught in the back of your throat as he swipes two long fingers against you. You rock back down against him, circle your hips at the same time he pushes tight inside you, and you’re so close to that edge, feel like you might fall over it at any second–

“‘Another time’? Did you mean it?” Satoru asks against your mouth, cock thrusting inside you at just the right angle, fingers pressing deliciously against your clit until you fall over that edge, pleasure clouding your brain and causing you to stiffen up as you fuck him through your high.

Satoru quickly follows, joining you in the deep abyss of pleasure as your tight cunt milks him for all he’s worth, massaging the head of his cock between your slick heat, your moans as you tremble against him something he swears he’ll hear ringing in his ears for years.

Neither of you fully comes down until a few seconds later, Satoru’s hands slightly shaking as he cups your cheek and pulls you in for one last kiss. You lean against him, enjoying the aftershocks of pleasure as they course through you, and it’s only then that you remember his question.

“I don’t know,” you admit, a bit of something akin to shyness seeping into your tone. You swallow at the sudden turn of events–shit, this whole evening is going to give you whiplash, you think.

With his forehead pressed to yours, Satoru’s eyes dart across your face–searching for something. You don’t know if he finds it.

“Okay. That’s okay,” he starts, but stops himself before he can finish his thought. He hesitates, and you raise a brow in question. “There doesn’t have to be. It doesn’t have to mean anything–not if we don’t want it to.”

And there, in the head of Satoru’s car and his embrace, you suddenly feel chilled to the bone. The urge to run far, far away urges you to move–you want to move, you want to go home and crawl under your covers and consider the implications of your’s and Satoru’s actions, of his words.

Shit–of your words.

What held more weight? Your actions or your words?

Fuck. You love him.

You feel wholly embarrassed; embarrassed by your feelings, by your actions, by agreeing to this thinking that Satoru felt the same. Or maybe he does feel the same and you’re too busy reveling in what just happened and everything that didn’t happen to fully take everything in. All you feel is the sharp shame of regret and foolishness because even if he didn’t mean what he said, he still said it, which still hurt. It makes you question yourself, your feelings, and your fucking actions. You want to say something, to ask for clarity. To admit your feelings and tell him that you want it to happen again, and again, and again.

But in the end, you allow the cold to seep through you, replacing the bright warmth that previously filled you. And the words left unspoken fill your heart like a thick, painful dread.

“Hey–you okay? Come back to me.” Satoru furrows his brows, hand cupping your cheek. So, you give him a pained, forced smile, and look at him again.

“I’m okay,” you reply. You could say more–admit your feelings, tell him everything you want to hear. But the fear overwhelms you in its finality.

Instead, you say nothing, a heavy, dreadful weight filling the once blissful space between you.

You can’t shake the feeling of cold.

The next couple of weeks are strange.

Now fully aware of the extent of your feelings for Satoru, you do your very best to avoid him. Maybe if you hadn’t had sex in his car, or come to a realization about your feelings, or if any of the things that had happened hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t feel the need to avoid him.

But they did, so you did.

In fact, you’d been doing a pretty successful job of doing so up until the night of the 29th. Earlier that day, it’d been chilly outside, a reminder of the seasons changing from summer to fall, from fall to winter. As soon as you got home–after another successful day of dodging Satoru’s texts and calls–you hopped into the shower, changed into warm pajamas, and wrapped yourself in a blanket, fully prepared to spend another night wallowing in all the mistakes you’d made.

However, that was before rapid knocking on the door pulled you from your thoughts, alerting you that the night might go differently than you would have liked.

With a sigh, you stand, allowing the plush blanket you’d grabbed to fall from your lap. You have an aching feeling you might know who’s behind the door, and when you open it mid-rap, a hand poised just about to know, your assumptions are confirmed.

“I didn’t think you’d answer,” Satoru says, and you note how his jaw looks tense.

“Me neither,” you admit.

You move back to allow Satoru to enter–something he’s done millions of times before.

So why does this time feel different?

“You’ve been avoiding me.” A statement.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can reply with.

Satoru shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize to me,” he states, and when he looks at you, you could swear there’s almost something pleading in his gaze.

“But I do–”

“No, you don’t. I’m the last person you’d ever need to apologize to.”

Confusion fills you, wraps around you almost like dread.

“I don’t think I know what you mean, Satoru,” you say slowly, because the words you’re looking for aren’t making themselves known as quickly as you’d like.

As if sensing your beginning discomfort, Satoru braces a hand on the back of your couch. “Don’t you think we should talk about what happened? Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” His underlying meaning is there, but not spoken: about you.

“I just don’t know what to say,” you say, pressing against your middle finger until it begins to hurt. “If you won’t let me apologize, then I don’t know what else to say.”

Hurt makes itself present on Satoru’s face, almost like he’s shocked at how detached your words are.

“Well, I could think of about a hundred,” he retorts, and the sudden harsh edge behind his words almost makes you wince.

“I just don’t think there’s anything else to say.” A lie. You have a million things to say, but you’re afraid of Satoru’s previous words.

This doesn’t have to mean anything.

But you want it to. And amidst your confusion–the balance between what you want and the fear of changing the comfortable, of Satoru’s rejection, of the unknown–is what holds you back.

The fear of changing everything causes you to stand still in silence.

The air between you is tense, and the irony of the situation is not lost on you. A few weeks ago, the air between you was tense, too, but filled with a different kind of anticipation and affection.

Now, it’s just cold.

“Really? Not even about how we had sex? And how I’m pretty sure both of us felt something that’s been making you avoid me for the past few weeks?”

You’re starting to feel like you might be a flight risk. Satoru’s words are uncomfortable to hear, but they’re true. Yet, the fear that wraps itself around you until you feel like you’re bound is solid and unrelenting. You think this is for the best.

“If I wanted to say something, then I would have,” you tell him, doing your best to hold your ground.

You find that it’s incredibly difficult.

“Are you sure? Because I think you’re lying.”

His words are like a shock to your system, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue.

The look on his face–strained, tight around his eyes with a loose grin that looks too forced to really be his–causes that flighty, anxious feeling crawling in your chest to heighten. It fills you unforgivingly, carving out any extra space and constricting your heart until you swear it won’t be able to beat anymore.

Your response–or, you suppose, your lack of one–causes Satoru to scoff derisively. That’s not like him–you think. He must be becoming more and more frustrated with you.

You don’t blame him.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me, Satoru. Or what you want from me. You told me it doesn’t have to matter, right? That’s what you said,” you accuse, doing your best to form some kind of coherent sentence in the mass of things you can say.

His fingers tighten on the back of the couch, and if you hadn’t been fighting the thoughts swarming in your head and the multitude of uncomfortable feelings from eviscerating your bleeding heart, maybe you would have seen how he squeezes until his knuckles turn white.

“If you can’t figure it out by now, then—geez, I don’t know–then I guess I don’t have anything else to say.”

You almost gasp at his words and hate yourself for not having anything to say. Or, you do have things to say–fuck, you want to simultaneously smack a palm upside his head like you did when you were teenagers and pull the back of his neck until your lips met in a frantic, terrifying kiss–but all the words that could have led you there turn to ash in your mouth.

Fear is a horribly terrifying thing.

“I–I don’t–” You wish you didn’t stutter, but the ash suddenly turns to a thick, heady cement that glues your tongue. So, you shake your head, take a deep breath. Anything to shake the choking feeling that suffocates you.

But you took too long. Your silence is all he needs–all he needs to misunderstand. A look of shocked hurt crosses his face–that easy but not-so-truthful grin faltering–and all you can do was hang your head and squeeze your eyes shut as the tears prickled like tiny thorns in the corners of your lashes and the cement coagulated so much that you swear you could taste it.

This was for the best, this was for the best, this was for the best–

Gojo Satoru turned away from you, and if you knew you didn’t have more time, you might’ve stopped him. If you knew he was going to leave, and you were going to die soon, maybe you would’ve been able to speak.

It’s for the best, for the best, this was for the best.

He stops in your doorway, lingers in it uncomfortably with a hand held restlessly against the wall. He turns his head slightly to speak to you, but barely looks at your eyes.

“‘M not gonna say sorry,” he states, voice quieter than normal, but still firm. Like all the humor has been sucked out of it.

You swallow thickly, no longer fighting the tears as they fall in fat streaks down your cheeks, and refuse to look at him. You think that if you do, you might not have the strength to hold your ground.

After all, you aren’t as strong as him.

Without another word, you watch from the corner of your eye as Satoru falters–pausing with his lips parted as if he has more he wants to say–maybe something that could put your mind at ease, something like I love you–but then he firmly closes his mouth, his hand leaves your doorframe, and he leaves your apartment.

As soon as the door is shut with a decisive click, you cover your mouth with your hand, and you sob.

He never comes back, and you would never see Gojo Satoru again.

On the night of October 31st, just a few days later, Shibuya is cold.

This is something that feels strange to you as you lie on the chilled, cracked concrete ground beneath you. You’ve lost feeling in your fingers, your toes, and it feels like something heavy is sitting on your chest, restricting your breathing in a way that’s vaguely concerning. All your medical training fails you, but you remember that loss of feeling is never a good sign.

Shibuya is never cold.

It’s a place that’s constantly full of people and therefore warmth and life. Bustling with the noise of strangers who will never meet and never know each other’s stories, of loud chatter and cars driving to whatever destination they need.

Now, the only people in Shibuya are your fellow sorcerers, and curses are milling about in spaces where people should be. And the only life in the area is that of depleting life. Of people dead and dying. Of the blood pooling around you from a fatal strike you can no longer remember the origin of.

At least that’s warm, you think.

Everything starts to get dizzy, almost like a mixed feeling of vertigo and déjà vu. It’s concerning, but you feel so tired, and all you want is to feel warm again.

So you sink into the feeling, sink into the warmth staining the cracked concrete, the red coating your clothes that you’ll never have to worry about getting out.

Finally, you think about Satoru. Distantly, you think about that fear you had just a few days ago, and you wonder how much of it really mattered.

You love him.

Your last thought is of Satoru, and you hope he’s alright.

Satoru feels numb.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He wishes he felt numb. He feels everything, actually–and what’s the aftermath of feeling everything?

Numbness.

He couldn’t get to you in time.

Now, locked in the Prison Realm, Satoru supposes he has all the time in the world to think about you–to think about everything he could’ve done, should’ve done.

Instead, he had to watch as you died, as he was powerless to help you. The grief rips him to shreds, and another sob he didn’t know he had rises hot and heavy in his throat. It burns, the pain of losing you, and Satoru has the childish urge to kick something, punch something, to let out all the anger and anguish that threatens to consume and overwhelm him as a reminder that there was nothing that he could do.

So Satoru sits, and he thinks about how much he loves you, about everything you lost. His throat becomes raw, but he keeps crying anyway, even when he’s sure his eyes are rimmed with a redness that won’t dissipate for days.

Not that he would be able to see, anyways. After all, he was locked away.

Keen on punishing himself, a thought strikes his brain in the most painful way, but Satoru has no energy left to fight it.

He’s the strongest, yet he’s never been able to protect any of the people closest to him.

Satoru thinks about that night–the night when he could finally hold you as if you were his, if only for a little bit. The soft smile on your lips, the way you let him kiss you, how it felt to shower you in his affections without fear.

He wonders about if you ever really thought about his offer. The one where he offered you a teaching position. You said you would think about it. Had you? Had you decided on teaching, on helping him? Or were you just appeasing your best friend's antics?

You would've made a great teacher. He's always thought so.

He loves you–loved you, he supposes, in light of recent events–yet the last memory he left you was one filled with hurt and despair.

Satoru thought he felt numb, but that was only wishful thinking, just as the idea that you’ll be okay, that Shoko or someone will get to you in time.

But Satoru is no fool.

He sits, simultaneously feeling numb and everything all at once, and he doesn’t have any strength to fight them off.

All he can think of is you, and the tears begin to fall again.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #x female reader

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brittle-doughie · 17 hours

Note

What if Y/n Cookie talks to White Lily Cookie based on the stage: A Brave Advice?

A Brave Advice (Reader Insert)

Well at least he isn’t sending a literal kid to talk with her this time.

“Actually, Y/N Cookie’s company might be just what White Lily Cookie needs.”

“Huh? Really? I mean, don’t get me wrong, White Lily Cookie has been very receptive to Y/N Cookie, but is their company really what she needs?”

“I’m sure of it. Y/N Cookie’s great support has helped me and countless other Cookies. Y/N Cookie, I would like to ask you if you could try and talk to White Lily Cookie?”

You took a look over to White Lily Cookie as she stands from a little sliver bridge looking towards the kingdom. A part of you felt like not disturbing her time alone, but…she could deep down really use some company….

You agreed to do it as you head over to her…

You called out to White Lily Cookie, wondering about what’s on her mind….

“Y/N Cookie…Are you not mad at me..? You and your friends broke the Moonstone to save me..and yet, it only brought back Dark Enchantress Cookie…”

What? No, you couldn’t be mad at White Lily Cookie. Dark Enchantress Cookie had tricked you, tricked the others, tricked her. She fooled everyone….

“Y/N Cookie, you…speak as if Dark Enchantress Cookie and I are two separate beings.”

If you wanted to look at it truthfully, then yes. White Lily Cookie is in fact Dark Enchantress Cookie…

But it was White Lily Cookie’s love and kindness for all of Cookiekind that makes her leagues different from Dark Enchantress Cookie!

White Lily Cookie was taken aback by your response, fully expecting you to resent her when it ended up being the complete opposite. You saw White Lily Cookie for who she was deep down…

“Y/N Cookie….Do you know why Cookies were first created?”

That question gave you pause. The exact one that Dark Enchantress Cookie asked back at the banquet…

You…you did. It’s an unfortunate reason that you, that all the others existed….

White Lily sighed solemnly…

“Then..you would that we were made to…”

But…

You cut her off.

But that doesn’t mean that things can’t be different. Regardless if you knew why you were made or not won’t change how you or the others live their lives.

“I don’t understand. Don’t you want to understand the time you’re given despite knowing your purpose?”

You don’t believe that everything has to end in a certain way. You don’t need to have a special purpose to live your life the way you saw fit.

You were free to choose the path you want to take and that path was to see your cookies happy and prosper! The fun and adventure never has to end if you keep moving forward on your path as you go…

“Choose as you go…moving forward…”

“I see….ha ha….”

White Lily Cookie giggled as she leaned her head on your shoulder.

“Y/N Cookie…if I had met you sooner, I think a lot of things would’ve turned out differently.”

You chuckled along with her giggles.

Maybe…maybe it would’ve…

#brittle answers #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader #cr kingdom #white lily cookie x you #white lily x reader #white lily cookie x reader #crk white lily cookie #white lily cookie

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neyswxrld · 3 days

Text

butterflies in your chest

Wrecker x reader

summary: Finally, you and Wrecker are able to take a long planned hike, which ends with a sweet picnic and some confessions!

warnings/vibe: established relationship, kisses, first time saying "i love you"

words: ~1770

a/n: happy bad batch eve! i just found this little oneshot and thought i could share it to calm our (my) nerves! i hope you enjoy it.

p.s.: english isn't my mother tongue, sorry for mistakes! also, i feel like my brain was a little afk during all of this. sorry for that, too!

"Blanket?"

"Check."

"Sunscreen?"

"Cheeks. And on my head. And your face."

"The food?"

"Everything in here."

"Good. Ready to go?"

"Ready when you are," Wrecker grins and holds his hand out for you to take.

Smiling, you reach forward and place your hand in his, walk up to him and stand on your tip toes, to give him a small kiss on his, still slightly creamy cheek.

You feel how his grin widens under your lips and how his hand tightens around yours for a few seconds.

"Okay, let's go," you say, and together you walk out of the door.

The weather is sunny and warm, but the slight breeze allows you to cool off a bit, protecting you from overheating.

It was a perfect day for your date.

It was planned for quite some time already. While you both were dreaming of some piece and quiet time to relax, with some snacks to share and cuddling atop a blanket, waiting for the incoming nightfall, you never actually had the time or capacities to do a picnic in the woods.

But since you've finally settled down on Pabu and everything calmed down a bit, you are finally able to do just what you've dreamed of for so long.

Even though there isn't a big forest on the island, you both are fine with going down to the beach or looking for another spectacular but comfortable place to lay out your blanket.

The walk is like a hike with an open ending, and only to be finished when you find your perfect place, so Wrecker and you are walking hand in hand through the streets and into some looser, wilder terrain.

Even though Pabu has a high population, and you'll always find a small cottage with one or two residents, the island still provides incredible nature.

A small lake follows your path, left and right are some spectacular bushes and plants with the prettiest colors. Above and beneath you are some cliffs that contribute to the mountainous terrain and provide a place to live for many animals.

"Has Tech told you about those birds?" you ask Wrecker as you see one of the white-grayish animals gliding above your heads and entering a small opening on the cliff's side.

Wrecker looks down at you, some sweat sticking to his forehead, before he turns his head at where you're pointing at.

"Uh, bet he did, but I can't remember," he smiles sheepishly and scratches his neck, looking at you with his brown eyes.

"Do you want me to freshen up your memories?" you ask him, knowing that he hates being so forgetful.

"Of course," he nods and looks at you, ready for your incoming ramble.

Grinning, you start to tell him about the animal and some specialties about its beak that is strong enough to dig holes into stone walls. Wrecker listens carefully and asks some questions here and there, encouraging you to share the knowledge you had from his brother, mixed with some of your own research.

You even take a break for a few minutes and watch one of the birds that decided to start digging an entry with purposeful hits.

"Can't promise I'll keep all of that in my head, but you're always welcome to freshen up my memories," he exclaims, looking down at you happily.

"Oh, I will, no worries," you answer and smile back up at him, before starting to follow your path again.

The two of you walk for some more time, and you tell him different things about the various animals you can see or hear, encouraged by his excited looks, before you think you've finally found your place.

It was the edge of a cliff again, but there were different kinds of flowers and plants, making the floor a colored but beautiful mess. You can perfectly see the ocean from here, and you'll know the sunset is going to be amazing. The place is also secluded, a little bit higher up, so no one will come and disturb you, you're sure of that.

Wrecker puts down his bag and fishes out the blanket, shaking it a little bit before putting it onto the floor, careful to place it somewhere without many flowers, as not to destroy them.

Excited, you jump onto the fabric and pull him down with you, getting at your bags to pull out the different foods you took with you.

"I'm so hungry," he rumbles, and a second later you hear his tummy do the same.

Laughing, you place a plate in his hand and start to unwrap your stuff even faster, silently agreeing with him.

You sit close to him, comfortably kneeling next to him and almost touching his legs, which he holds in a cross-legged stance.

"The hike was tiring," you say, and Wrecker nods, holding a slice of jogan fruit up to your face.

Excited, you take a bite and reach for one of them yourself to do the same with him.

"Sweet like you," Wrecker grins, his smile so genuine and pure that you believe him without a second thought.

"But not as sweet as you," you answer, playfully.

Together, you sit and eat for a while, talking, smiling, laughing. Enjoying the view, the food and the company. The sun is shining down on the two of you, warming you up, and almost reflects the happiness you feel at the moment.

When it starts to wander closer and closer to the edge where the ocean kisses the sky, the evening lightning turns darker, golden, red.

The clouds and the sky play a game of red, blue and orange, leaving you two in awe. It isn't the first sunset you've witnessed here on Pabu, but it is by far one of the most mesmerizing ones. Especially since Wrecker is sitting next to you, adding to the beauty of the moment.

You share some sweet kisses and touches, holding each other tightly. You never wanted to go back home again, if you would be able to stay here with him.

Even as the sun swaps with the moon, the sky turns dark, and the stars start to shine bright, you keep on holding each other.

You look at him from the side, observing how his features are illuminated by the silver light. His scar, the crook of his nose, his lips that are pulled up into a small, relaxed smirk, like so often when he's with you.

You could stare at him for hours, not ever getting enough of him.

His big hands affectionately glide over your back, and he draws small patterns with the tip of his fingers. Your thumb, lying on his stomach, does the same.

Suddenly overwhelmed with a few feelings, you snuggle up a little bit more, pressing yourself closer to him.

Shortly, he turns his head over, to look at you, before tugging you right into to his side.

Your chest feels weird, but not in a bad way. It is warm, almost hot, and you feel like there are thousands of little bugs walking in your chest. It tingles, and you wonder again, how so often, if those are the butterflies everyone is talking about. But instead of having them in your belly, they are in your chest.

While you keep looking at him, you enjoy the easy silence that settled between you. You're only able to hear the sounds of the sea, some birds in the distance, and his even, deep breaths.

The atmosphere is relaxed, balanced. Just right. Like always, when you're with him.

And at this moment, where you lay next to each other, and you're getting lost in his presence, you decide that now is the time.

None of you said it before, being quite too shy or not ready yet.

But at this moment, you know you're ready. You want him to know how you feel. Even if he's not able to say it yet.

You want him to know.

You take all of your courage together, take a deep breath and say his name.

"Wrecker," you whisper into his ear, feeling how your heartbeat quickens and how your fingers start to tingle.

"Yeah?" he asks and turns his head slightly so he can look at you.

The moon illustrates his facial features, make them shine and glow in the right ankles, and underlines his beauty once more. His brown eyes shine with so much kindness and love. They're almost sparkling, and for a second, you lose yourself in them.

Your chest tightens a bit, but still not in a bad way. It feels like your heart skips a beat, and you suddenly feel warm all over your face. You're nervous, but at the same time, you realize again, just how happy you are and how much you want these three words to come out of your mouth.

You take a deep breath, try to calm your nerves a little bit and finally say those words for the first time.

"I love you," you smile and give him a light kiss on the cheek, just beneath his eye.

You know he won't react badly to your words, but you still can't look into his eyes for a second. So you decide for another kiss.

You feel how a grin spreads on his lips. Not able to control them, you feel how yours turn upwards, too.

Your hands are almost shaking because of all the tingling, but you feel how some of the tension you didn't know you were holding leaves your body.

You feel good.

"Hey, Cyare," he whispers, as soon as you separate and are able to look into his eyes again. His arms tighten around your body, and you're pressed closer to him once more. Not that you're complaining.

"What?" you ask back, paralleling his words from just a few seconds ago.

"I love you," he now fully grins, repeating your words, and presses his rough but gentle lips against your temple.

He pulls you close on top of his chest and turns onto his back at the same time, so you're laying on top of him now, able to see his face.

Grinning, he comes closer and repeats his kisses again and again, spreading them all over your face.

Giggling, you gently lay your hand on his jaw, feeling the light stubble beneath your fingertips and moving your thumb over it in a rhythmic movement.

You feel light, happy. Your smile is almost as big as your face.

"I love you," you whisper again, barely able to hear it yourself.

"I love you," Wrecker mimics.

Your lips touch.

You feel warm and comfortable. Loved.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

#wrecker fluff #star wars wrecker #bad batch wrecker #tbb wrecker x reader #wrecker x you #wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x you #wrecker tbb #the bad batch wrecker x you #the bad batch wrecker x reader #bad batch wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker #picnic #the bad batch #tbb #star wars #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction

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burialapplicant · 1 day

Text

From The Members to The Fans

〈 RUKI 〉

At the end he said, "I hope the GazettE will last forever," I think REITA meant he hopes the best view, that he saw from the stage in 2023, is what will continue forever.

The view he saw with the fans Your happy faces The place we could all scream together

It's a treasure that cannot be replaced.

I think he hoped it would be nice if that moment could last forever.

I remember you said you wanted to do a live show soon.

He was a kind and passionate man, someone who could openly say, "Even if something goes wrong, I have the most fun when the members get together and we can laugh like this."

I loved his honesty.

Every birthday, we jokingly tell each other that we should take care of each other's health, this year is no different.

The band will never be just the four of us. No matter what anyone says.

You are our only bassist.

I believe you will always be next to me.

Everyone will feel your presence even if they cannot see you.

REITA's life he built with the GazettE will never disappear, it will always live on.

I will continue singing so it will be as if REITA is right next to me.

We won't become the kind of the GazettE REITA would hate.

I don't want to make you sad.

I believe we all have a limited time here but the human soul remains.

REITA's, the members and mine. And the fans.

I want to continue to perform so everyone that has loved us, even when they become souls, can come to our lives forever.

It can only happen with each and every one of our fans, we can create this view that he wished to see forever.

That is why I want you to stay by my side and be there with us.

I know he would appreciate it if you remembered him with a smile, instead of sadness.

We will be determined to protect this band more than ever before.

We will make the forever that REITA wished for come true.

So, REITA, make sure to come to every live down from heaven.

There will always be a seat for you.

Things are going to be really busy now.

I will reach out again when there is a schedule made.

〈麗〉

To all the fans who supported REITA.

I think he was a tremendous source of support for everyone and myself. I still cannot accept and face the fact that he is no longer with us and we will not be on stage together anymore. Maybe this is one of many things I will gradually come to understand. However, I strongly feel I need to have the strength in order to move forward, if I remain in sorrow, I will not be able to guarantee the forever he wished for. I believe the path he had taken alongside everyone was invaluable and will live on in his heart, for everyone and himself for a long time to come. He has given me so much and walked beside me for so long, he will remain as my best friend forever. Please remember his words, memories and the love he shared in your hearts. REITA will live on in everyone's heart.

I want to express how grateful I am for everyone supporting the GazettE and REITA.

〈葵〉

Of all things after working with the members and our staff, this is the one thing I did not want to do. There were moments in the past where I almost gave up on my dream. Every time, we would have a discussion about it, the members would push and pull me to not feel discouraged. That is why the GazettE was able to keep moving forward. REITA, you are not the one to wish for eternity, you are eternal. I can't say something wise like "I'll carry your burden." I wanted to play more music with you, I wanted to see more with you. Even if it's the 5 of us surrounded by our fans, any kind of view would be amazing. I wonder, it's difficult that I have so many things to say knowing none of it will come true. Once I'm up there, I'm giving you a stern talk. You must be lonely because we're suddenly gone, so until we meet again, please rest up. I have a little more work to do here.

Thank you for joining us on this long journey. Rest in peace.

〈戒〉

REITA had an big presence in my life, more than I can describe; all his words, saving me with his sound, the mood maker of the band, all I remember are the fun things, and above all, the way he shined on stage.

He was the best partner to have in the rhythm group. That has not and will never change.

I want to carry his memory with me to continue the GazettE with a greater determination.

Lastly, to the fans and everyone involved in supporting us for the past 22 years. Thank you so much.

I want to continue running forward with the five of us, I hope you will stay with us.

REITA Thank you for your hard work. With everyone by our sides, we will continue to protect the GazettE...I promise.

I don't want your 22 years go to waste, there are a lot of friends who don't want that either. Don't forgot to come to the show!

Let's have another good drink together, yea?

#this was difficult #i apologize for any errors #the gazette #ruki #uruha #aoi #reita #kai #2024 #translations

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batsplat · 2 days

Note

Chad reed on always the entourages creating the drama. I cannot believe that is what caused rosquez downfall but also given the level of Vale's celebrity and the way he carried himself, I can totally believe that it was the entourage (iPad stand I'm looking at you) that brought the end

(about reed's 2020 quotes in this) yeahhh I mean the downfall was caused by a whole bunch of factors, not just any one thing... like all great tragic narratives, it feels inevitable from a global perspective and yet thoroughly preventable in its specifics, with loads of points where you think, 'oh, if things had just gone a little bit differently'... there's this tension in how, in the end, maybe it would've always gone wrong, but a lot had to come together for it to go wrong in quite such a spectacular fashion

reed's definitely correctly identified one of the factors - the entourages, and valentino's entourage specifically. though fwiw, I did cut off the article before reed predicted the marc/fabio rivalry was headed a similar way (this was from 2020, obviously before the arm injury):

for better or for worse, fabio has skipped the villain arc to head straight to the depressed frenchie arc

regardless of whether this rift would have happened or not, the idea that marc would have gotten a new appreciation for the situation valentino found himself in is at least an interesting one. though if anything, the rivalry with fabio would have more closely paralleled valentino's with the other aliens (new talent coming through, but with the previously dominant rider still a regular winner). now is the time marc's learning what it feels like to come back from a prolonged absence from being competitive at the highest level - and of course with a new superstar simultaneously making his debut

so yeah, anyway, tragedy, you can point to all sorts of strains and pressures and tension inherent to professional sport that were exacerbated by the personalities involved and the influence of the media and the passage of time etc etc. but never mind all that, let's get back to entourages! I know you mention everybody's favourite b-list shakespeare villain, but I'm going to basically mostly ignore him because it's well-trodden ground. yeah, it does help to have one guy who's whispering poison into your ear for a prolonged stretch of time before showing up at your motorhome doorstep with a bunch of telemetry and a dream. and yeah, there were people in valentino's entourage definitely encouraging this path to doom. but what I'm also interested in is the flip side - why nobody stopped him

I would like to submit into evidence this passage detailing the thoughts of vale's mechanic alex briggs. now briggs in this excerpt blames two groups for how things went down in 2015:

the yamaha side (specifically the press group) for not talking him down from the ledge before the presser

the crew chief and other assorted italians on the team for being too "yessy" and not standing up to him

let's briefly (for a given value of the word) focus on the first one. if you're a random yamaha pr person and you see the valentino rossi run to a press conference (given he was late) with a bunch of papers in his hands (well, he's not actually holding the papers in those gifs, but presumably somebody's got them), it's probably a tough ask to expect you to hold up the valentino rossi and ask him what exactly he's intending to do with those papers. also, is he really going to back off because you, random yamaha pr person, have asked him to please not accuse the competition of sabotage? added context is that some at yamaha were aware of what valentino thought about the race at phillip island (which we'll get to in a sec), but god knows if the pr people did. unless he confided in anyone on the yamaha side what the plan was, a lot of them would have been blindsided too - which does come back to the problem of how big a deal valentino is and how maybe you're a little more cautious about questioning what he's about to do with those papers than you would be with somebody else. it does feel like perhaps a bit too much to expect for them to have launched some last-minute intervention, or to even know what kind of intervention they could have gone for beyond low-level comedy hijinks to stop him from even getting to that room. why did nobody from yamaha place a banana skin in his path

but we do know that at least some in yamaha were aware of valentino's great big phillip island sabotage theory, because lin jarvis has very helpfully told us as much (from the post-sepang media scrum):

Q: Do you think it was a mistake for Valentino to [provoke?] Marc so much on Thursday with a very personal and hard attack? Jarvis: There are always many different ways of addressing different problems - Valentino chose to do it in that way. Perhaps that is what provoked Marc into being quite aggressive on the track. I really don't know, you need to ask Marc not me about that. Every action has a consequence. That's life. Q: And did you know before that Valentino was going to be so aggressive with Marc in the press conference? Did you know before? Did you discuss with Valentino about this decision or you didn't know until it happened? Jarvis: Personally, I was not aware of that. I was aware of Valentino's opinion of the race in Australia, but I was not aware... but I was not aware that he would - Q: Don't you think because Valentino at the end of the day is an employee of Yamaha he should discuss before with you about such an important decision, to attack a rider of another factory in such a heavy way [...]? Jarvis: You can't control every incident, everything that happens and you know, generally we have a very good [...] relation, connection with our riders, we talk to them before about things before, but anyway I think this is something Valentino felt strongly about and it was his decision and that's it.

note the use of the word "personally", which does leave the door open to others within yamaha (outside of valentino's inner circle) knowing what was going to happen. jarvis, unsurprisingly, comes down pretty firmly on the side of 'well what were we supposed to do'. given that jarvis admits he knew valentino's theory and is hardly a stranger to valentino's modus operandi - after all, he was already team boss at the time of another tense press conference in sepang eleven years prior that took place in the wake of valentino accusing a competitor of messing with him - you do have to wonder whether yamaha could not have tried a little harder to stop valentino. but again, accounting for the power of valentino's status and the power of his character, I'm personally unconvinced yamaha could've done much to convince valentino to change his mind

so then: the italians. a little bit of context - briggs started working with crew chief jerry burgess in 1994 and both of them were on mick doohan's team for all of his five 500cc titles. when doohan's injuries forced his retirement, valentino inherited his championship-winning team upon moving up to 500cc. jb was vale's very first crew chief in the premier class, and him as well as briggs have been working with vale since december 1999. understandably, this is a very tightly-knit group. it is one that made the jump to yamaha with valentino - here's just a quick excerpt (also from oxley's valentino rossi: all his races) about briggs' thoughts on that move:

When Valentino decided to defect to Yamaha, he was determined to have his crew go with him. Only one stayed at HRC. "We first got to know about the Yamaha deal in Portugal, I think [September 2003]," Briggs continues. "I wanted to stay with JB, because I hadn't finished learning what I wanted to learn. "I remember a clandestine meeting in the car park at Phillip Island, about salaries and how everything was going to work. It was really exciting. When I very first started working with Honda the whole group was very much a team. Towards the end we felt like it started to become a bit us and them: the engineers and management, then the mechanics and the riders. They'd sort of got too big for their boots - they'd designed this wonderful bike, so it was like it had nothing to do with us. That made it easier to leave.

and also about the move to yamaha, from the 2020 barker biography of valentino:

But with his trusted crew chief Jerry Burgess and most of his other team members from the Honda garage agreeing to defect with him, Rossi had the crew he needed, not only to win but also to enjoy his racing. It was a heartening display of loyalty and something of a risk for all involved. ‘When I announced to the mechanics that I was going with Valentino they said, “I’m coming too,”’ Burgess later explained. ‘Some of those guys were leaving very secure jobs and taking a big gamble.’

the group also survived the move to ducati (obviously a deeply frustrating two years not just for the guy riding the bike) and the move back to yamaha. but then, valencia 2013, valentino announced his decision to fire jb in a press conference organised for the pair of them. his 2013 season had been deeply frustrating - yes, he had gotten a podium in his first race beating both marc and dani, but after that generally speaking he couldn't come close to matching the other aliens when healthy. he was comfortably the fourth best rider that year, scrapping and clawing his way through midfield battles and having to rely on misfortunes befalling the three title contenders to achieve his podiums and his sole victory at assen. he was considering retiring at the end of the 2014 season once his current contract expired, but wanted to try everything he could to see whether he could be competitive again against the world's very best. and so, he made the decision to roll the dice and get himself a new crew chief, the italian silvano galbusera

now I have to say, personally I have a lot of time for this decision (even if it was maybe not... uh, enacted in the most graceful of manners, given how sudden it was). I come from a sports background where a certain ruthlessness in personnel decisions is encouraged and generally praised - if something isn't working, you should have the courage to make a change, even if it's deeply uncomfortable (including on an interpersonal level). also, while it was a sudden departure, it's not like burgess was that keen on sticking around much longer (again from the same oxley book):

Valentino ended his collaboration very suddenly at the end of 2013. Burgess was shocked but not too much, because he already knew that he was coming to the end of his own career. "When it ended for me I'd already been doing it 30-odd years and I'd told Valentino a few weeks earlier that I wasn't going to sign any more multi-year contracts. I was 60 by then, so I'd go year by year. I'd already signed a contract for 2014, but I would've thought if we hadn't had any more success by then that there wasn't much point in continuing. I felt we would win more races but I was more doubtful about championships. "I'd read enough sporting biographies to know that sportsmen change their coaches towards the end of their careers. It can give them a spike in results but it doesn't change the overall story. Looking back, Valentino's career went on longer than I expected. He enjoyed some success but no more championships and that's what you race for. Of course he was in the unique position of being able to get a factory bike until he retired. He was very special and deserved everything he got."

which, look. again, personal bias, but to me it's reasonable to part ways with somebody who doesn't think any more titles are plausible, because at that point it's just somebody who has a very different view on your career than you do and may well not stick around for much longer anyway. also, at the end of the day, jb was wrong! valentino came extremely close to winning another title, and just because he didn't, doesn't change the fact he could have. if it had rained on the 8th of november 2015 in valencia, we might be having a very different conversation. (or if they hadn't changed the bloody qualifying format post-2012.) honestly, if the 2016 and to a lesser extent the 2017 season had gone just a little differently - a working bike in mugello here and an unbroken leg there - he could have been a genuine title threat in two more seasons. in any case, what it does show is that valentino even at the end of 2013 was still as determined as ever, was ready to engage in what was a huge gamble (given how almost all his success had come with the highly decorated jb) on the off chance he might find what it took to win again. this will not have been an easy decision for valentino. here's a write-up of the presser at valencia, that stresses how uncomfortable the occasion was, how surprising a decision it was to jb, but how publicly at least there was a lack of recriminations (which, to be fair, wouldn't be much fun to do in a shared presser):

(you'll note that the phrasing in the presser about athletes attempting to extend their carrers by changing things up is echoed in what he says in that book interview where he adds that it doesn't change the overall story, again suggesting he didn't really believe valentino would be competitive. he also uses the same phrasing in ANOTHER interview that confirms as much, but I think you get the point.) valentino said at the time, "it was a very difficult decision for me because I have a great history with jeremy. he is not just my chief mechanic. he is like part of my family. my father in racing". this is somebody he'd been working with since age 21, somebody who is not only revered within the paddock for his work with several of the sport's greats but is also a man who valentino obviously has a close personal connection to. meeting for the first time when vale snuck into the honda pit to check out the bike he might ride next season, hitting it off immediately, countless rowdy dinners together, parties, jb and another older colleague sitting back when food fights started, watching valentino grow up, working with him throughout all his big manufacturer switches, all his successes and all his failures... as much as anything else, it's evidence of how strong vale's desire to win was, how determined he continued to be, to make this choice at this stage of his career. and jb was open to the idea (at least publicly) that it might end up being a smart call:

the 'dirtiest' part of the whole affair is how it was actually carried out - it's not great form to tell your crew chief the day before you end up doing a press conference together to announce your choice. for whatever it's worth, this is how valentino justified the timeline:

and lastly, which I think is the most key part, is valentino's belief. because at the end of the day, the only reason why he's doing any of this, and the only reason why what was to come was possible at all, is that he himself still thought that he could challenge for another title - as much as that belief had come under strain:

now what this piece also goes on to say is that nobody believes this will work. nobody believes that firing jb will lead to better results. people expect that this is going to lead to his retirement, quite possibly at the end of 2014. it's worth just remembering sometimes how extraordinary valentino's return to the top of the game post-2013 really was, how it went against how we expect a rider's competitive lifecycle to work, went far beyond the longevity exhibited by any top rider before or since - all while going up against riders who are widely believed to be some of the best to ever do it. valentino beat jorge in both 2014 and 2016, and remains one of two people to outscore prime marc marquez over the course of a season. not to engage in too much rossi prop here, but sepang 2015 can't really be understood without all the frustration that led up to it, to this one golden chance, this miracle that everybody had believed to be impossible (sometimes even valentino). this wasn't supposed to be happening. it was happening. and then, so so close to the finish line, valentino could feel it slipping, slipping, slipping away

but of course, we still don't know whether changing crew chiefs is the key factor that made him competitive again. maybe he just needed a bit longer to get back into the swing of things post-ducati disaster. maybe the bikes just started to suit him better. hey, maybe it was that nifty exercise regime he'd engaged in a wee spot of espionage for so that he could pinch it off his teammate. what we can say, however, is that valentino's choice both tells us a lot about his mindset, as well as (to finally bring us back to the actual point of this post) representing a massive shift in his 'entourage'. this is what briggs is referring to in his quote - the italians. the new crew chief. the people who couldn't stand up to valentino. now obviously, as mentioned above briggs had worked with jb for the better part of twenty years and can hardly be considered a neutral party. here were briggs' feelings on the matter (yeah it's from the same oxley book again, I got it new for eighteen quid which is a very generous price, would recommend):

When JB was out at the end of 2013 it was like losing my mechanic dad. I remember being in the garage when we found out about it. Then they arranged a kind of farewell, a kind of hodgepodge farewell. It was terrible, I didn't like any of it. I was just hiding behind one of the bikes in the garage, crying, going, what's going on here? It didn't seem right to me. I think maybe Valentino thought he would get faster again sooner, but I think it took at least a year to get the taste of the Ducati out of his mouth. I think if he'd stayed with JB we would've won the championship in 2015.

which. look. we don't have time to unpack all that. but. the point is that obviously briggs wasn't exactly a massive fan of the change within valentino's team, and his comments about the 2015 season do have to be read with that in mind. as to whether vale really would have done better in 2015 with jb at his side, your guess is as good as mine. all that being said, a part of me wonders how much losing that grounding presence enabled valentino's late-2015 spiral. maybe not in terms of talking valentino out of the great big fluctuating lap times treachery theory - to state the obvious, valentino got himself involved in plenty of drama during jb's time as a crew chief. jb himself occasionally helped add fuel to the fire in those feuds, like his infamous comment about how he would be able to fix the ducati's issues in 80 seconds that casey still brings up every three business days (the comments were poorly phrased but also somewhat taken out of context, in that jb was talking about a specific set-up problem). he's generally been pretty happy to be forthright about valentino's rivals, for instance this about casey:

My feeling at the time was that Casey probably only had one game plan, and having watched Casey over the years, he doesn't have a plan B. If it doesn't go his way from the outset, it's probably one of the weaknesses that he had through the youth that he had, through the lack of experience that he had. That's not a criticism of him per se, he was still only 22 at the time.

(this is about laguna seca 2008 and how he helped valentino win that race, including in plotting out vale's rather ruthless tactics - which casey was of course not exactly a fan of.) or these. uh. harsh comments about dani from spring 2010:

Q: Is that atmosphere or track knowledge? Is it like the Spanish finding something extra at the racetracks in Spain? JB: Well, therein we show the weakness, don't we? If you can get up on that weekend, on the technical racetracks of Spain, why can't you get up on the technical racetracks like Australia, where the Italians do? Lorenzo is a guy who will and does. Stoner has been able to get up on tracks all over the world. Unfortunately, Dani Pedrosa's into his 6th year in MotoGP, and he's won 8 races, Jorge Lorenzo's two months into his 3rd and he's won 6. It's night and day between those two, is the way I see it. Dani's an extremely fast rider, but a shockingly poor racer. Q: Were you surprised at Jerez [2010] when Pedrosa fought back when Lorenzo passed him? JB: When did Dani fight back? With two laps to go, and he didn't even get close enough to try to come back. Dani has never been a fighter in races, he's a lovely kid, don't get me wrong, but you can see that Lorenzo, having Pedrosa in front of him, it was never going to be the way he was going to finish that race. He was going to finish on the ground or he was going to finish in front of Pedrosa. That's the sort of race that we want, we had that with Biaggi and Valentino, and from history with Schwantz and Rainey. All the good riders have always had somebody they have had to put the target on the back of. It was Doohan and Gardner, and Doohan won that battle hands down, and I think Jorge Lorenzo's going to win this battle [with Pedrosa] hands down.

kind of a dick! so his attitude to valentino being valentino has generally been a) well having enemies is good, actually, with an added slice of b) good luck to his enemies :) - see also this quote (from the barker biography) in the context of the gibernau rivalry:

And that made Rossi even more dangerous, as Jerry Burgess pointed out: ‘Valentino is the sort of rider I wouldn’t want to get angry. He can take you apart on the track.’

so yes, jb is also perfectly brutal in his own right, as you presumably have to be to work alongside valentino so closely for so long. he is, however, also somebody valentino has a massive amount of respect for, somebody who helped turn him into a legend and is responsible for a lot of vale's success - not least, of course, in the pivotal move to yamaha. he was replaced by a man of a far far lesser stature in the sport, one who presumably would have been grateful to valentino for the biggest job he was ever going to get. if briggs is right and there was a shift in valentino in 2015, surrounded as he was by italians (derogatory) who could not stand up to him, who allowed valentino to insist on war and peace on the pit boards, to focus more and more on things that had nothing to do with riding... it would be going a little too far to say that valentino was missing an adult in the room given he was, in fact, in his thirties and should have been capable of being that adult. and who knows what jb would have said or thought or done about the great big childhood hero deception theory. but sepang 2015 was the culmination of a lot of things, including a pressure cooker of a season that grew more and more tense and put more and more stress on everyone involved - perhaps for none more so than valentino. maybe, just maybe, if he'd had somebody around him with fifteen years of experience in handling him, who could have just occasionally told him to knock it off, to concentrate on the racing, to keep things simple (always jb's defining philosophy), to maybe not get so wrapped up in the great big spanish collusion theory...

or maybe it wouldn't have mattered! maybe we're getting cause and effect all wrong here; maybe valentino was deliberately fashioning his entourage into one that was only going to give him positive feedback. maybe he would have just stopped listening to jb, maybe the very decision to fire jb makes it clear he was no longer interested in what jb had to say. it's a tragedy, after all! maybe it was always going to go like this. maybe it was always going to end like this

speaking of entourages, marc's manager played a bit of a cameo role in fanning the flames just a little further (article from marca, 26/10/2015):

alzamora obviously will be somebody valentino is familiar with, having raced him in 125cc and also having just coexisted in the paddock over the years. valentino could of course be lying, but idk, why would he? he's already made his case by this point, and what if alzamora were to contradict him? if it's true and this conversation did happen, you do have to say it's a spectacularly unhelpful intervention from alzamora. even if marc was mad at valentino, why the hell are you telling valentino this AFTER sepang 2015? what's the plan here buddy

^ 1999 world champions: alzamora in 125cc, vale in 250cc and alex criville in 500cc. people think motogp lore is complicated but if you know like, five guys, you're set for about twenty years of drama

which does get to the heart of the matter - a lot of these people have big egos and their own agendas and they love to run their mouths. they like talking a big game and getting involved in things they really shouldn't be getting involved in. is reed right that these people in the riders' entourages 'created the drama'? well, no, I think the two men at the centre of this particular tragedy were plenty capable of doing that themselves. nevertheless, you can point to how professional sports (and motogp in particular) forces you to rely heavily on a small group of people to keep you sane at the centre of the storm, and the risks that can emerge when that small group collectively unmoors itself from reality. you can point to the perils of fame, both in making your reliance on your inner circle so unnegotiable as well as in providing you with the status and power and ego to ignore anyone who might wish to change your mind. you can point to specific figures in this story who managed to incite the conflict between the two of them, as well as how the pressure cooker competitive environment they were operating within helped set up the ultimate catastrophe. you can point to how valentino lacked anyone with the power to stop him - both in the direct sense of forcing him to reconsider and the indirect sense of commanding his respect enough to make him see sense. maybe, just like in 2004, valentino had simply been "looking for an excuse" and he was always headed down this path. or maybe if somebody had just held him back a little that year, kept him focused on his riding, maybe if the right person had intervened at the right time...

maybe, maybe, maybe. that's why it's a tragedy

#valentino rossi #rosquez #//#4693 #i get the sense he's unpopular on here but EYE will miss lin jarvis. i think he's funny sorry. him and his certifiably insane employees #i loveeee that media scrum love his very dry lil summary of events acting like we're not so so far down the rabbit hole #anon: man fuck that ipad stand #me: lemme tell you a tale about a man called jerry burgess and the daddy issues he inspired in multiple grown men #and yes the fact that valentino unceremoniously dumped his 'paddock father' is. interesting :) i get him ughhh #also on the flip side i am curious what kind of conversations were going on in the marc camp during that sepang weekend #alzamora's two big contributions to the rosquez saga: 1) trying to stop marc from going to the ranch #and 2) telling vale that marc was mad at him for argentina and assen and in doing so helping back up vale's theory #what was he cooking

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md-confessions · 3 days

Note

sort of in response to that one ask about doll not being 'uzi if she never met n.'

both her and uzi were changed through grief and disconnect from their peers even if it showed in different ways. both of them have themes of loneliness & both of them have an intense festering hatred that fuels their motivations.

the difference between them is that through the connections that uzi formed after being forced into a situation where she had to open up, she deterred herself from the path she was slowly going down.

like her quote en quote villain arc was stopped before it started because of the connection she formed with N but doll never had that.

doll refused to form connections despite the chances she was given because it happened too late. her anger festered for so long that she wasn't able to make a comeback. her hubris was her downfall. she became the very thing she sought to destroy.

the point of promening and her 'hypocritical murder plan' was that she was so blinded by her anger and hatred, she didn't really think too far about the logics of her plan; she probably fantasized killing v and then took the first chance she could to actually do it.

she has some kind of tunnel vision, focusing on her goals until she's gotten them; no matter the cost, no matter who or what she has to get through. (another similarity between her and uzi, imo.)

Uzi basically stated "hey we should stop fighting cause there's bigger shit at play and we can deal with it better if we team up" and Doll responded with "No I can do this on my own also die"

sort of. imagine you spend years upon years seething and imagining ways you're going to kill this sky demon that killed your parents in front of you and lead to the activation of a virus that has plagued you for years since that point. you have to actively kill and eat people from a young age & you are alone in your struggles; presumably the singular person who is aware of them finds your trauma humorous to an extent, and even if she sticks by your side, you feel like she doesn't really get it. i reiterate; you are alone in your struggles.

one day, you finally get your chance. you fantasize this moment for years, to the point where it becomes the only plausible solution to your problems. you don't plan it out thoroughly, because you know the universe will deal its hand correctly and allow you catharsis after years of festering that hatred. it finally happens. you have her in your sights, you have her pinned, she knows who you are now and you're about to kill her, to inflict all the pain on her you have wanted to for years; no matter who may have gotten in your way, you will have this, it's all you want, its all you HAVE wanted.

and then someone stops you. she tells you some things that if you were in a clearer mind, you would have thought deeper about, but you're so fucking angry right now and you want her to get out of the way. you don't listen.

you fight. you lose. you come back.

she has the same virus as you. you're not alone anymore. and that's when the conflicting feelings start. but despite that start, they never quite come to any meaningful conclusion because you have more important things to do. perhaps she inspired you a little to understand that the fate of the planet is more important than your fantasy for revenge, but you're so set in your ways you can't quite admit it yet. and again; when you get that chance again, to enact revenge, you take it.

and in the end, it ruined her & she died. she died as she lived; alone.

essentially, 'doll is uzi if she never met n' doesn't mean that exactly; it means doll is uzi if she never formed meaningful connections. the friends she had in school don't count in my eyes. literally the very first proper interaction we see between her and lizzy is lizzy playing doll's traumatic experience off as a joke. no hate towards lizzy also just to specify i love them as friends i just don't think it is on the same level of healthy as n and uzis friendship is?

okay.. i can't add any more to this it's so fucking long also it's 1 am GOODNIGHT i hope this doesn't look weird or aggressive

#md confessions #murder drones #md doll #uzi doorman #serial designation n #serial designation v #md lizzy

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sanjuwrites · 1 day

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wip wednesday

and she's back with a bang! sorry y'all, finals and chronic illness are kicking my ass, but i am offering up everything i have managed to write in apology <3

thanks to @welcometololaland, @honeybee-taskforce, @sznofthesticks, @paperstorm, @alrightbuckaroo, @carlos-in-glasses, and @theghostofashton for tagging me!

now that i have you - tarlos

His eyes close involuntarily, and he’s thrown back to that night three years ago.

The press of Carlos’s mouth against his inner thigh makes TK moan, arm thrown over his eyes. “Jesus, Carlos, are you trying to kill me?”

Carlos kisses a path up TK’s chest, pressing a kiss to his neck, “Just the opposite, actually. I’ve never felt more alive, TK, maybe it’s time you get with the program.”

TK melts into the mattress, letting the arousal and heat crawling up his spine take over.

They’ll discuss this in the morning.

TK woke up to a cold mattress, an empty apartment, and a broken heart.

Carlos never brought up that night, and TK never pushed.

It was easier to have this part of Carlos, rather than none of him. That’s what he told himself every time he saw Carlos with another man.

[redacted] - firstprince

And Alex – his beautiful, bright, sunshine Alex – wraps his hand around the mic, pulling it out of the stand and walking to the end of the stage, leaning into the crowd at the front of the pit. “Good evening, Los Angeles! Are we having fun tonight?”

The crowd screams uproariously, and Alex laughs, throwing his head back. Henry’s lost to the magic of it all, watching magnetically as he tracks every movement Alex makes. Alex folds down onto the edge of the stage gracefully, swinging his legs back and forth, “Okay, so as most of you know, it’s usually this part of the set that I usually sing a song or two from [EP name] but I’m doing something a little different tonight!”

Right on cue, Liam hits the opening notes of a song on his guitar, and Spencer follows on his drums. It takes Henry, as well as everyone else, a moment, but quickly, the crowd starts screaming again.

My friends call me a loser

'Cause I'm still hanging around

Henry knows that no one, save for Bea, June, Nora and Pez know about the two of them, but Henry feels like he might as well skywrite the fact that they’re hooking up across LA.

You said, "Baby, no attachment"

But we're

Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out

Is it casual now?

And Henry’s thrown back to that time where the two of them, quite recklessly, blew each other in the backseat of his town car as Henry took Alex back to the airstrip to send him off to his next tour stop. He thought it was just sex to Alex, didn’t – couldn’t – dare hope it was anything more.

But, Henry thinks faintly as he watches June and Nora swap looks across him, they’re well past casual now. Alex is basically screaming it at him.

i'm not sure who's done this yet, so i'm going to tag @bonheur-cafe, @heartstringsduet, @liminalmemories21, @fallout-mars, and @lightningboltreader!

#sanjuwrites #tarlos #firstprince #911 lonestar #rwrb

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moonspirit · 16 hours

Note

hello, i’m back, i was just wondering what you think eren said to the others in the paths. we saw armins and mikasas but not the other scouts/warriors. you’re pretty much the only writer on tumblr that doesn’t intimidate me so i asked you 👍 (your wife needs to be tied to a tree)

Hello again behyuu xD But please! Don't fear clouds, she's just a smol smol! Go befriend her!

But this is a really interesting question; I've thought about it a few times, and more along the likes of: "what is the kind of relationship Eren shares with these people?"

(Edit; this became incredibly long 🥲)

I think there are people Eren would and wouldn't have talked to, really. In the latter category falls Levi, imo. But that takes off on another tangent entirely, so for now we'll stick to the rest.

To Reiner, I like to believe Eren would've shown him an alternate reality of what happened in Liberio, perhaps one where he doesn't transform, and instead has a long conversation with him where both of them are offered something akin to "forgiveness" by one another.

These two are parallels to each other in that mutual sense of crippling guilt that came with carrying out the destruction of each other's homelands, not out of hatred, but simply because they needed to do it, in order to achieve something bigger. Reiner, because he wanted to fix his family and become an honorary Marleyan to rid himself of the shame. Eren, because his "peaceful world" for lack of a better word, was turned upside down and trampled upon - though in the end, it was just his selfish and violent nature that set him off on this path. Reiner and Eren understand each other in a way that others don't - neither wanted to do what they did. But they did do it, and that sin will simply be too massive to contain. But Reiner lives despite not wanting to, and Eren dies despite not wanting to, and they are split into two different worlds by the end.

Tl;dr - They talk about how, in another world, where maybe there aren't titans, Eren would've continued to admire Reiner as he did before Trost. And Reiner would cry. End of story.

With Pieck, I hc that the conversation would've been short. Pieck is a very interesting character, imo, because she's literally the most grounded of all the scouts and warriors. She owes no allegiance to Marley, nor Paradis, doesn't have an ulterior motive and is basically stuck watching the doomed world from the ground. There is no solution for her - she as an Eldian will be used by Marley and killed in Paradis - she's literally the only character who understands this from the very beginning. That said, her impression of Eren is, simply put, that of an immature child running riot (incidentally, this is also what Levi probably thinks). If we take into account the fact that her first meeting with Eren was one where she tried to fool him by channelling her (fake) solidarity with Paradis and rejecting her Marleyan upbringing, what lies between these two characters is the anger of being born on different sides of the wall. Eren's actions also resulted in Pieck losing pretty much everybody she knows. As such, I believe what could've transpired between them in the paths, would've been an apology from Eren for destroying Liberio, for killing Udo and Zofia, and telling her maybe, that had these suffocating walls between them never existed, perhaps they would've been peaceful strangers, passing by on the streets now and then.

With Jean and Connie, the conversation would've been very difficult. Sasha. How do you talk about Sasha and forgiveness in the same sentence? So Eren was tortured by his fate, by having to see everything play out as he'd seen it, without any change, and Sasha's death was one of the many terrible consequences - doesn't negate the fact that it still happened only because he "chose" this path. All the people in the 104th truly have an incredibly tight bond - it is what makes it all the more painful knowing that Eren drifted away until he had to be killed by the very same group of people. I like to imagine Jean and Connie beat him up, really. Among the many female characters in SnK, Sasha was someone with an incredibly pure soul - she cared about people and food and fun - and her death was catastrophic. Eren's selfishness caused it, there's no other way to put it. There's also the dynamic between Jean and Eren - that love-hate rivalry that was so sad to see end. And so I want to believe Jean and Connie just keep pummeling him until they're all tired and they stare at the sunset, reminiscing on all the times Eren was a reckless piece of shit.

Falco and Gabi then. The former will honestly carry the guilt of ferrying Mr. Kruger's letters to and fro, during Eren's homeless era. In this respect, I like to think that Eren will tell him not to carry it, to blame it all on him, because he's the one that lied and made him do it. What can possibly be worse than willingly inflicting guilt on a child as young as he once was? Let Eren be cool for once, and offer this reassurance. How Falco deals with it as he grows up, is another story. As for Gabi - the textbook example of brainwashing, she is a splitting image of Eren in so many ways. Eren however, did not allow himself to find the acceptance that Gabi did. And so perhaps what he tells her, is that he's glad. Glad that she joined the alliance to stop him. It's enough that there's one Eren in the world.

Who's left?

Ah. Annie.

This is honestly very interesting to me because, first of all, I just know that the minute Eren opens his mouth in Paths, Annie's knee is going to dislocate his jaw. She has not one iota of sympathy for this pathetic loser causing so much trouble, making her fight when she didn't want to, but because he dragged his dearest friend (and her future husband ffs) into the chaos. He wasn't. Letting. Her. Be. In. Peace. Oh she's going to snap a few bones and put them in a blender, I know it, I know it!

But jokes aside! Annie and Eren are also, a bit similar in some respects. Both are selfish, incredibly so, it's only that their end goals are vastly different in scale. At the same time, they are also both people who care for their loved ones, even if they don't openly show it. They see themselves as monsters, but are loved by the people around them nevertheless. Annie never really had anything like a real childhood, and the concept of having friends was something unnecessary and foreign in her terrible upbringing. I really think that it was only in Paradis that she found comfort, some warmth, what food tastes like when shared with people that treated her more or less the same as anybody else, and so learned to open up (very slightly). But still having a wall around her to keep potential threats at bay and to conserve her energy, it must've felt quite special when Eren appreciated her fighting skills and even took them to heart, making an effort to learn for himself. At a time when she probably prided herself on her strength and fighting prowess alone and nothing else, that could've been incredibly validating.

She didn't hate Eren. She thought of him as a moron, but she didn't hate him. She didn't really hate anybody, the way Eren also never "truly" hated anybody. They were just forced at each other's throats by his choice. We have to remember that Eren also didn't find it easy to accept that Annie was the FT. He did really look up to her and admire her.

I like to think he understood her dedication to sticking to her mission, not as being loyal to Marley, but for a reason more personal (not sure if he could've known about her father, post gaining his future memories..?) and that, that in itself, isn't wrong. Eren's selfishness also stems from an incredibly personal desire after all.

So what would they talk about? Maybe he'd tell her she should continue to be selfish. Because her desires, unlike his own, are harmless. And also drop hints about how his, um, his best friend Armin, is very smart and also very hot and maybe she'd like to... Um... Idk? <3

Whew 🥲

Edit2: I forgot Historia. Idk, considering she'd just given birth and was probably conked out with exhaustion, it's nice to think he'd have just watched her holding her baby, sadly, whispered "You're free" and then disappeared.

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doomed-era · 15 hours

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I Ramble About Revali and Groose

i don't actually expect people to care about minor characters or side characters in any other media franchise i'm in, but with loz i tend to get annoyed with people if they clearly only care about zelda and link, and it has to do with how the games frame side characters post-fujibayashi

so revali and groose are part of a common ongoing narrative trope in zelda games of someone who's on the good guy team but is somewhat antagonistic or "mean" to link for whatever reason. you get this with mido and (somewhat) with tetra and her crew and midna. the difference between these characters and groose/revali is in why they don't like link. mido is pretty much a bully who has never liked link because he's just different from the other kids—he is an eternal child, so this makes sense —tetra is skeptical that link can actually do anything in the forsaken fortress initially, and midna wants to use link (and to extent, the legend/narrative itself) for her own ends.

groose and revali don't like link because he's the main character, and they're right. groose clearly despises link because while he's exceptionally lazy and disinterested, everyone likes link, and the youth succeeds even when he doesn't try. later on, this turns into frustration that link is part of some grand scheme and he's...just not. he is a secondary character in-universe, and according to impa the best thing he can do is help on the sidelines. he is a big help, and a very lovable character in his own right, but he's fundamentally trapped in his own narrative.

revali is VERY similar to him in this regard, except he's aware that he's a supporting character (a champion) from the start, and hates link specifically for it. unlike groose, he never really does anything about it besides be somewhat snide, and eventually admits that link might be an okay hero when the rito champion is dead and can't do anything besides fire a big laser anyway. link has been groomed since he was a child to become a knight: his father's a knight, he pulled the master sword when he was twelve, iirc he might have joined the royal guard at an extremely young age, and everyone seems to have a great deal of respect towards him. revali is an extremely skilled archer and pushes himself to the limit, but he wasn't born into it or led down that path like link, so he has to play second fiddle.

now, I don't think characters being side characters is bad. I don't think revali or groose even being side characters is bad. but I certainly don't like how it frames their desire to be more than that as...well, bad. it really reinforces my reading of post-skyward sword games as correct; characters are expected to know their place in the narrative and not strive for more or try to break out of their little boxes, and if they do, they're villainized or it's treated like a character flaw. I don't think they were necessarily right to resent link for something that's ultimately out of his control, but what else are they gonna do?

but, according to the narrative, the only thing they can do is help those chosen by the gods, those chosen to lead, as they were chosen to bend to their will. they are cosmically unimportant, and they will never be worth paying attention to. the reason i tend to prefer people who actually look at characters that aren't link and zelda and try to examine them is because they're kind of going against the narrative itself, which really wants to push the idea that only zelda and link are important, ganon is just there to be an adversary and doesn't have any real grievances, and the only thing that matters is keeping hyrule and hylian supremacy intact.

#glider rambles #zelda meta

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fan-mans · 2 years

Text

The Suchong rant/theory/speculation

So, I know that a vast majority of the Bioshock fandom fucking hates BAS (Especially on here) for very good reason. But, I will say that, when it isn’t being racist, destroying canon, and insulting all the characters- it does bring a few interesting things to the table. This is especially true for Suchong’s character, his motivations, personality, and his relationship to Jack and Tenenbaum.

Ever since I read the note Tenenbaum left Suchong, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’ve gone down a bit of a wiki rabbit hole, investigating Suchong and Tenebaum’s characters to answer all the questions that came up. I mean, if Suchong was really as much of a soulless bastard as people like to portray him, why would Tenenbaum try to appeal to his emotions? It makes no sense to me that Tenenbaum would try to appeal to the sensibilities of a man who has given no indication of compassion or remorse.

So, I posit a theory: Suchong and Tenenbaum both began to feel remorse for their actions at roughly the same time, leading to Tenenbaum writing the note to save someone she was friends with and could possibly aid her.

Now, I know this may sound ridiculous but, after applying a little bit of logic, Suchong showing some remorse but going on with his work makes more sense than Tenenbaum appealing to someone she knows doesn’t care about the kids and that she doesn’t care about either. And before I get into my evidence, I am using what is present in the games only as I have not read the novels, nor do I care to.

So, why would Tenenbaum even begin to care about Suchong? Well, one could argue that she just wanted help with the little sisters, but there are plenty of good people in rapture so her bothering with Suchong in particular feels important. Of course, he did do the mental programming on them, but Tenenbaum herself states that the children can grow out of it and forget, so Suchong would really only speed up the de-conditioning process.

Instead, I want to bring forward the idea that Suchong and Tenenbaum were good colleagues, and maybe even friends. Listening to Gilbert Alexander’s audio diary “Improving on Suchong’s work”, it’s easy to hear the sadness in Alexander’s voice, which can imply a lot of things, most prominently that there was some level of camaraderie between them. Other cut audio diaries from Alexander similarly imply a strong amount of sadness about Suchong’s death, furthering this point. Okay, Suchong probably had friends- so what? Well, it means he could’ve easily have had a positive relationship with Tenenbaum! Since we don’t know the date of Suchong’s audio diaries “Mozart of genetics” and “Plasmids are the paint”, we can’t say for sure how long ago those thoughts about Tenebaum were, though both are implied to be early in their relationship. Even while looking down on Tenenbaum, Suchong still very much admired her skill as a scientist, which at least to me, indicates a clear avenue for solidarity and mutual respect between them.

As there are no audio diaries mentioning Suchong and no radio messages giving her clear opinions on him it’s a little tough to gauge her perspective on her colleague. However, Tenenbaum being outright friends with Suchong, I feel, makes much more sense when you take her note into consideration. Tenenbaum’s note being an not only appeal towards someone who can make saving the little sisters easier, but an appeal to a friend, a man she respected, who she raised multiple children with, makes the effort of writing it and putting it in his secret lab make so much more sense! It makes the appeal at all make more sense as well. Tenenbaum is a very hopeful woman, yes, but if she was talking to a friend, someone she knew even somewhat intimately, over a man she barely knows or actively dislikes, then her confidence in convincing him to her side skyrocket.

Now, speaking of kids, let's talk about Jack and the little sisters. I don’t think people really acknowledge that Suchong had put just as much, if not more, work into raising Jack as Tenebaum. I personally think that though Frank was present, he did leave most of the work of raising and training Jack to those two. The little sisters, on the other hand, he had no care for other than funding. Suchong, however, is directly addressed by the girls as “papa’ multiple times, indicating that he is their father figure like Tenenbaum is their mother figure.

Alongside this- there doesn’t seem to be much outright hostility between him and the girls. Of course, in Bioshock 1, there is the ghost scene of the little sister crying about not wanting to be ‘put on the table’ and the infamous ‘protection bond’ audio diary where he slaps a child, but nuance can put those instances in a new light. First, the ghost scene has no context other than the words spoken by the girl, so, this could easily be a case of Suchong turning an orphan into a little sister- still bad, but expected of both him and Tenenbaum. The audio diary on the other hand, as well as the real time version in BaS, does require a deeper analysis.

So, prior to the event, we see Leta and Masha rescue and befriend a big daddy, creating the protector bond, the girls disappear and later re-appear, as we come across Suchong venting to his audio diary, trying to figure out his massive problem. The girls enter and enthusiastically try to get his attention. Now, let’s pause here and ask a few questions. First; why would kids he’s very cruel to regard him with such enthusiasm and second why are they trying to get his attention? My conclusion to answer these questions is as follows; Suchong was NOT as cruel as implied and he communicated his problem with the protection bond to the girls.

If Suchong was super abusive, why would the kids actively seek his attention? Would they not fear angering him if they bother him, especially at work? The enthusiasm the girls have and willingness to approach him (As well as Suchong allowing them to roam around freely) indicates a more relaxed relationship. Despite what he says about children sometimes, calling the girls brats, and generally regarding children as stupid and unruly, there is room to plausibly infer that he didn’t hate them 24/7. Even more so, as evidenced by both of the coded notes, the problem with the protection bond is on the Big Daddies, not the little sisters, their conditioning is well in effect at this time. With the added detail of the girls jumping to find him after the bond is made, then it stands to reason that they understood the problem and were going to tell their papa the good news. I figure that they either sensed a change in his behavior or he outright told them the problem and to find him if there was a change, leaning toward the latter explanation.

Okay, now let's go back to Suchong's death scene. So the girls bug him a bit, don’t take the hint to leave him alone, and he loses his temper and slaps Leta. The girls not taking the hint to fuck off tells me that him telling them to scram is pretty rare. What seems just as rare is slapping one of the girls- Masha rushes to Leta’s side and both seem pretty shocked at the turn. Suchong gets killed by the big daddy and the girls rush to said big Daddy’s arms once he becomes docile again- which one may say implies that they didn’t like Suchong or were happy to see him die. However, I would argue this is mostly the mental conditioning. The girls easily changed their minds about the injured big daddy, going from fear to willingly helping him in an instant. This happens again during the death sequence- what normal child would watch something that violent happen, even to someone they hate, and jump into the perpetrator’s arms? The answer is in the strong mental conditioning- so powerful it overrides any form of logic.

With that out of the way, let’s look at his relationship with Jack. Again, if he really hated the kids, why would he let Jack and the sisters call him papa? Logically, he’d want to distance himself from any kind of parental role- but he didn’t. With Jack especially, he lingered in the old baby room- likely often enough that Tenenbaum knew he’d see her note there. Hell, his damn sandwich is still fresh! I also can’t find any instances of him insulting Jack. He never calls Jack by name, but neither does Fontaine or Tenenbaum, which makes me believe he was only given a proper name after being sent topside. There is also the matter of the puppy Jack had- but we aren’t given enough context on how Jack obtained her to know why she was killed, she could have very well been killed on Fontaine’s orders. Like with the little sisters, I don’t think Suchong was outright cruel to Jack- at least not most of the time. If anything, he gives Jack more respect than the little sisters and potentially prefers him to the girls.

Now, how about Suchong’s personality? I think his personality, other than ‘cruel evil doctor’, and ‘coward’ gets overlooked by the fandom. I’d argue that Suchong isn’t a coward per se, but rather that he won’t pick a fight that he doesn’t think he’s got a chance at. He’ll really only fight people he sees as equals or underlings- caving only to superiors. This is why he made himself useful to the Japanese rather than fight them and it’s why he easily transitioned to working under Ryan after Fontaine ‘died’. He’s smart, he knows when he’s got a chance and when to pick a fight- though he clearly isn’t afraid of bitching about his circumstances or spitting sass. It’s clear that he is greedy for money like a lot of rapture characters, outright stating that it was good that he was the only one who knew about the little sisters after Fontaine and Tenenbaum went down, as well as scientific progress.

I would even go as far as to say that he may have regretted his actions after Jack left or had some weakening towards Jack specifically. I have two reasons for this, first being Tenebaum’s note and the ‘send to Ryan’ note. The verbiage of Tenebaum’s note strikes me as odd- specifically the line ‘It is in your power to be a different man’- that line screams to me that he has shown some sort of remorse for his actions prior to Tenenbaum leaving. The line ‘They are children… and yes, they will forget’ also strikes me as Suchong not wanting to Kill the sisters and having some kindness towards them. Now the big one to me is ‘What can Ryan take from us that we have not already sacrificed…?’ That tells me Suchong is afraid or hesitant to change because of Ryan. There’s also the note Suchong left for himself. He clearly planned to send the evidence of Jack to Ryan but something made him chicken out. What event exactly is unclear, perhaps Fontaine's ‘death’ or Tenenbaum's disappearance or the overtaking of his job. Whatever it was, something made him feel brave enough to start a whistleblower plan and something else made him stop.

So, with all the evidence (A.k.a. me pulling at threads) together, let’s set up a very rough timeline for Suchong. He enters Rapture, meets Tenenbaum, and begins working with her on plasmid tech. Initially the two don’t get along and he retains a low opinion of her, but slowly they begin to warm up to one another and some level of respect for each other if not outright friendship blooms between them.

Fontaine then entrusts them with the Little Sisters program, putting them in charge of children for higher ADAM production. With the addition of children, things get complicated. The more immoral side of their work begins to be less excusable as before the little sisters, they really only experimented on adults. The kids are hard to care for but a necessary evil to continue producing Adam to meet customer demand. They cannot sedate the girls so Suchong attempts to alleviate some of the struggle of working with them, as well as encourage his ‘Adam recycling’ by implementing mental conditioning in the girls. This works to an extent, but they nevertheless remain children, in both mental capacity and physical strength.

Fontaine, seeing this mental conditioning, then entrusts the WYK program to Tenenbaum and Suchong. The girls at the orphanage already referred to Suchong and Tenenbaum as ‘papa’ and ‘mama’ respectively, but now they have even more responsibility and intimacy in raising this child. In an attempt to stave off the growing softness for the child they are now raising as a killing machine, Tenenbaum and Suchong don’t name him, only calling him ‘baby’. They recognize the growing instinct they have for the children both in themselves and each other, but do not discuss it, likely because of Fontaine’s eye over them.

Suchong breaks first, giving baby Jack a level of affection that he does not show the girls. Tenebaum sees this but does not say anything, intending to protect her colleague. Fontaine begins to notice Tenenbaum going soft, however, and sets Suchong up to keep lot 192 a secret from her. Project WYK wraps up and they send the baby to the surface, Suchong and Tenenbaum shoving their feelings back down and returning to work on the sisters. Still, Suchong cannot get the baby out of his head, often returning to the child’s secret room to the point of Tenenbaum noticing. Nonetheless things are normal.

Tenenbaum has a change of heart and her actions become far gentler with the girls, which gives Suchong the strength to re-asses and begin a whistleblower plan. That is until Tenenbaum disappears, sapping all his confidence away as Fontaine becomes increasingly erratic. The civil war breaks out and Fontaine vanishes. Suchong is the only person aware of the sisters now, without an employer and needing somewhere to go until Ryan forcefully takes his job over.

At the same time things get bad in Rapture, the Little sisters need protection from being harvested. Suchong can build the big daddies to protect the girls but cannot get them to imprint. The girls are too terrified, despite their mental conditioning, to interact with the big daddies. He explains this problem to the girls, hoping some level of self-reporting may give him a leg up. Mind still stuck on baby jack, he returns to the secret room and finds a note from Tenenbaum, encouraging him to change his ways. Suchong, perhaps feeling betrayed by her simply leaving, rejects the letter and leaves to figure out the big daddy problem angry, leading him to lose his temper at the girls when he normally wouldn’t. Or, perhaps he is stricken with fear, knowing Fontaine is still alive and watching his back. Either way, he dies at the hands of his own creations, at least knowing the girls will be protected now by the big daddies.

So yeah. TL;DR: Suchong, though not the best person, wasn’t entirely evil either and may very well have had the same revelation as Tenenbaum but no chance to act on it/may have backed out because of Fontaine. The way the girls and Tenenbaum act display a certain level of complexity to his character, a hidden softer side where he may have acted much better than his audio diaries initially let on.

One last thing: I want to point out that applying any sort of soulless/heartless characterization to an Asian character like Suchong (The only Asian character in Bioshock 1 and one of four Asians in the entire series) comes with some very nasty racist baggage. Now, it’s no surprise to any of us that Ken Levine is a racist bastard, so his writing characters of color as racist stereotypes is expected. However, I’m disappointed to see no one has directly addressed the fact that the portrayal of Suchong as ‘cold and heartless’ is in and of itself a very old racist stereotype. Everyone seems to only shit on BaS and Infinite’s racism (For good reason) but no one seems to point out the inherent racism in the first Bioshock game. So, my first instinct is to break that stereotype, even if it goes against canon. Because, in the end, when it comes to keeping the integrity of a racist canon versus breaking it and fighting stereotypes in fiction as well as what resides in the racial consciousness of the society I live in, breaking canon will always be the better option. A canon that is shitty should be improved upon by fans, not upheld.

#yi suchong #tbh he deserves a more nuanced characterization #even if its through my crack headcanons/theories #idk i just like the idea of him having the capabiloty to be kind like Tenenbaum #like i think them starting down the same route and going through the same journey #of slowly being affected by their descisions #but going down different paths in the end #would've made a much more interesting character dynamic and foil setup #bioshock #idk but thats my opinion #please dont take this too seriously tho #i know its flawed but im having fun okay?

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