Blue Lock Is The Worst And Best Piece Of Media In The Whole World. Its Intrinsically Gay. Everyone Probably

blue lock is the worst and best piece of media in the whole world. it’s intrinsically gay. everyone probably has second-hand high from the amount of axe body spray in the building. human experimentation is canon. no one’s parents read the waiver. professional athletes are pitting high schoolers against each other for their own entertainment. they are getting paid to do that. there is poignant symbolism regarding class struggle and freedom. a main character yells right in the womb as he scores. friendship and teamwork is banned. a real life, adult man has a wall of cameras to watch teenage drama unfold. the guys with crippling mental health conditions run the place like wardens. they aren’t allowed to use their phones. they are live streamed for profit. there are at least two instances of canon-typical pet play. it’s awesome, no one is doing it like them, and no one ever will.

itoshi rin doodle spread !! 🥝 ﾉ @megutime

Random Associations: Blue lock boys

Characters: Isagi Yoichi, Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser, Bachira Meguru, Hiori Yo, Chigiri Hyoma, Mikage Reo

🚨Description and warnings: A few random associations that Blue lock boys evoke in me, because I need to take this out of my head. It can be a little depressing in places. In any case, be careful if you are in a bad mood or don't like slightly gloomy images.

Isagi Yoichi | 潔 世一

Cozy family dinners; heart-to-heart conversations until the first rays of dawn; feeling disoriented due to too many different voices around; knowing that someone else's weakness doesn't make you stronger; keep finger on the pulse; second wind; to want to self-actualize, but not have the space to do so; a snail crawling to the top of Fuji; high adaptive potential; spontaneous facts in the middle of a dialogue; a golden retriever who has problems with food aggression; a look that softens at the sight of a special person; endgame; try to get to know someone better; the rays of the sun that break through the winter clouds.

Itoshi Rin | 糸師 凛

A storm warning that no one pays attention to; cooling water in the bathtub; the question "accept yourself or is it time to change?"; apathy after a nervous breakdown; fresh morning air after a long night rain; chitinous cover; horror games of the Playstation 2 era; amputation of the soul; veni vidi vici; to find yourself within a forest dark, but to be separated from Virgil before the due time; berserk mode; the habit of feeding your demons; loving someone so much that butterflies in your stomach turn into nausea; paradox of apex predators; Ouroboros and the endless cycle of creation and destruction; a long dark corridor in which all the light bulbs were knocked out; industrial metal; a broken metronome.

Itoshi Sae | 糸師 冴

Sunset rays reflected in the calm water surface; melted ice cream; the inability to decide which is more frustrating: society or yourself; ice machine; traces of dried puddles on the asphalt; an empty pedestal; chronic burnout; wet matches; eyes that are more verbose than the words themselves; a funeral service for yourself; to call someone by their first name only, because it means more than any pet name; grow up earlier than necessary; blurred view from the side window of the car; resurrection; the hypnotic gaze of a snake; a scar from a healed wound; the lone guiding star; accidentally hurt someone's feelings.

Michael Kaiser

Drops of blood on white rose petals; Enigma; branded pantsuits; fragments of a broken mirror lying on the bathroom floor; to look for the answer and think that you have found it; dim light from a table lamp; cutting off bangs at 4 a.m., because there won't be a more appropriate time; black holes; a party that ended prematurely; the brilliance of the spotlights; an imperfect ideal; unwillingness neither to remember nor to forget the past; deceive the brain so that the brain does not deceive you; not having friends, but having friends at the same time; Russian roulette with six bullets in the revolver drum; double bottom with triple meaning; indirect answers to direct questions; crucifixion.

Bachira Meguru | 蜂楽 廻

The scorching summer sun; chamomile field; cold soda on hot days; ringing laughter; watermelon-flavored gum; draw for your own pleasure, without fear of getting your clothes dirty; to be rejected by society and not understand why; the chorus of the song that's stuck in your head; asymmetry as a sign of handmade work; thirst to live; discussing conspiracy theories while sitting in the kitchen in the middle of the night; buying a cake for no reason; stolen kisses with a lingering taste of laughter remaining on the lips; talking to yourself out loud; a wish made at 00:00; marshmallows in hot chocolate.

Hiori Yo | 氷織 羊

Neon store signs; light from a computer screen that irritates the eyes at night; half-whispered laughter; locking yourself in the bathroom as soon as you heard the screams from the living room; a caterpillar crawling into a cocoon; warm milk with honey; raindrops running down the open window; insomnia, which occurs due to unwillingness to wake up in the morning; flowers growing in the mountains; imago; Lords of Cinder; stress resistance, the reason for the formation of which you do not want to remember; deliberately annoying someone with your politeness; poker; a butterfly attached to a cork board with a needle; a lunar eclipse; Schrodinger's cat.

Chigiri Hyoma | 千切 豹馬

A highway illuminated by roadside lights; trying to comb your hair after accidentally falling asleep with a wet head; fluffy softest pillows; rearview mirror; the most average smell of the most average men's shampoo; sour marmalades; spending five minutes looking for the keys that you've been holding in your hand all this time; strawberry lip balm; not inability, but unwillingness to keep your mouth shut; Formula 1; to assemble yourself from the wreckage into something better; a phone that runs out of battery at the most inopportune moment; cliches that work anyway; bite marks; jogging through the city at night.

Mikage Reo | 御影 玲王

A wristwatch; a belated feeling of happiness; empty art galleries flooded with golden sunlight filtering through heavy curtains; dusty bookshelves with the smell of old books; the feeling that arises when you reread the same paragraph so often that you lose the meaning of the words; have a key card that opens any door when the lock in front of you opens with a regular key; putting so much meaning into one word that the other person won't understand it; refraction of light in the facets of a crystal glass; mimicry; calligraphic handwriting on crumpled paper.

no more winter.

Genre: comfort for Rin but idk how to write comfort:3

Notes: I hc that Rin doesnt like winter/snow that much

Boiling tears roll down his face, leaving invisible, yet scathing lines down his cheek, with his cheeks flushed, he wants to disappear.

It was one of those days, where the night sky resembled that of an art piece from the impressionist era, little scats and blobs of pale, dark blue spotted across the navy sky.

Small paint splatters from the clouds were making their way down onto the ground, painting and coloring whatever it touched down below. It was all too much for Rin Itoshi.

It was that feeling again. The thin layer of ice that purged itself into his pale skin, the sensation wavered on his body like a curse, his body trembled as he sobbed continuously.

Cloudy breaths sputtered from him, his fidgeting and jolting shoulders, his hands were shaking around him, acting like a weak fire, trying to melt the hard ice forming around Rin.

Rin could feel himself shiver as another hiccup was torn from his throat, he can see his mirror isn’t the corner of his eye, and what he sees makes him want to tear off his face, but he’s too cold to move.

Staring back at him, was a pathetic little boy with bright eyes that were now covered in a coat of hot wax, excess waters were trapped in his eyelashes and rolling down his now puffy cheeks, the heavy droplets can’t be held by his grief.

the sigh was revolting, Rin wanted to move, to smash the mirror, but he’s so cold. So tired.

He buries his face back down into his own hands, now glossed in ice cold water, his body shivers as more feelings translate into tears, staining his usually stoic face.

he feels his ears throb as he cries, it drips down onto the floor and despite being so small, he feels like they shake the ground like footsteps.

not knowing it actual foot steps, before you.

comforting hands reach out and pat his head, his hair being flat doesn’t leave much for cushion, so he feels your hands well.

you don’t speak a word as you listen to his muffled cries, his shaking shoulders shake your heart as you feel it break at each little sound.

you mean closer when he doesn’t retaliate to you, your hands trace from the top of his head to the edge of his shoulders, rin barely shivers under the touch.

it feels like your hands are adding a layer of hot lava to his cold body. the sensation leaves his body confused, but he unconsciously leans forward and buries his face into your shoulder.

your soft clothes softly press against him, as he continues his rainfall of tears, he soaks up your presence.

your hands cup the back of his head, holding his head close to you.

your palm is the seed of spring as your fingers spread your sun like warmth, the feeling of your hands in his hair, its ethereal.

it makes him ease into the interaction more, it makes him melt and mold against you. if he was ice before, now he’s becoming water, his tears are slower and so are his harsh breaths. no more sputter like a broken sink.

your hands rub up and down, your arms squeeze his stronger body, but if anyone were to see this, they’d probably assume the opposite. rin looked so weak to how he usually is.

it only makes the ice harsher.

but you resist, for him.

rin’s hands drop to his sides as he completely leans into you, your bubbly and warm body a stark contrast to his, he’s cold and rigid.

he feels spring envelop him as you squeeze him for comfort, he feels flowers bloom in place the holes in his cracked ice heart.

he can feel the sun on his red cheeks as your head is right next to his, his cold hands were now intertwined with your warmer ones.

at each body part met with you two, he feels the ice thaw, his ice cage slowly melts away, into water, into the warm grass. into you.

with you with him, he feels the clouds part for the sun, he feels the seasons change and a new day. released from his winter cage.

he dashes into your spring arms.

end.

-> ok why did i not know how to end sorry if the ending is ASS

-> write this mainly for @reapkusho @someprettyname @bachi-the-bee

That moment you read something good but the last two sentences ruin it for you

The entire fic: subby and cute men

Last two sentences: *he grabs your wrists and loom over you, whispering into your ear, “now it’s your turn, babygirl.” And picks you up like a sack of potatoes*

Me: NO NO NO NO NO- NO YOU DONT