#{rise again};nel
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Cuz I Love You
Okay, so this came to me when I was waiting for the bus to Liverpool for Eurovision last week!
I tried to make this as realistic as possible, a lot of stories like this portray first time's as though they just know exactly what to do straight away. This one's giving clumsy.
It's a two-parter to leave you hanging, soz!
Please like, reblog and follow if you enjoy it!
My asks are also open for feedback and ideas to how this universe can continue.
Nel xo
~
"I think we should try and have sex," Stella gasped as Harry gave her yet another love bite on her neck that was stretched out above him. They were snogging on her parent's sofa, both still in their uniforms.
"Huh?" Harry looked up, eyes hooded from the pubescent tension continuously rising in his teenage body. Whenever Stella got on top of him like this, he went to goo underneath her. She sat back on his thighs from where she'd risen to her knees, to look at his flushed face.
"I think we should try to have sex," she said again. He grinned cheekily but she also noticed his Adam's Apple bob where he gulped. "Hannah said it's weird that we haven't yet." She breathed, leaning in to push a squishy kiss to his swollen lips, he groaned as she raked her hands through his curls and gripped. The groan turned into a high-pitched whimper when she clumsily pushed her hips down into his crotch, where a tent had pitched.
"Um, I dunno, Stell." He said, clearly a bit flustered. "I haven't got any condoms." He mumbled quietly.
"It's okay, we can nick one of Milo's." Harry giggled into another one of her kisses at her eagerness but pushed her away wearily, he couldn't help but feel nervous. Sensing his anxiety, Stella whispered, "Come on, neither of us has done it before so there's no need to be embarrassed."
"'m not embarrassed." He mumbled again, a blush creeping up his neck.
"What are you nervous about, then? I've touched your willy before, there's nothing to be ashamed of." Stella said rubbing her nose against his and smirking cheekily.
"Stellll," he whined, screwing his eyes shut and moving his head away from hers as he cringed.
"What?" she laughed and traced his jawline with the tip of her finger. His hands rested at her waist where her tartan-patterned skirt had ridden up around her hips. He picked at the bobbles on her thick black tights. Suddenly she didn't find it so funny. She cocked her head to the side, "you really don't want to do it, do you?"
"I do... I want to." He said in a small voice, pulling her closer as he spoke. "I just don't want the reason we have sex for the first time to be because our mate said it's weird that we haven't yet." He grumbled, not meeting her eyes. She folded her lips into her mouth, feeling a little foolish.
"Well... what should the reason be, then?" He snapped his eyes up to meet hers and felt his belly turnover. Stella knew why they should want to have sex for the first time - she just wanted to hear him say it.
"Well, you know..." He said, flushing even more and shifting uncomfortably. Though when she went to move off his lap to give him space, he held her to him tighter. She smiled softly at him and rested her chin atop her hands that were folded on his chest.
"Go on," she said, fluttering her lashes up at him, in a voice barely above a whisper.
"I guess... I want to have sex with you for the first time because..." She took in his long pause and cupped his cheek to lean in for a passionate kiss that took his breath away. As she pulled away, their lips still touching and eyes still closed, he whispered, dumbstruck by her, "Because I love you." he rushed out, almost in one syllable.
Her forehead pulled in and she felt her heart just about burst inside her. It was her turn to blush, she dropped her head to his chest chewed on her lip to hide her grin. She couldn't believe her luck. He was everything she'd ever wished for in a boyfriend. And now he'd admitted that he loved her. She couldn't wait to tell her mum. Bringing her forehead up against his, she waited for him to open his beautiful eyes and look up at her.
"I love you too, Harry." She whispered, grinning from ear to ear. They were so vulnerable to each other in that moment, and not a shred of clothing had been removed. She guessed that this was what her mum was talking about when she talked about feeling a fear when you're in love. But it didn't feel as scary as she'd expected. Although, she was really glad he'd said it first.
"This is crazy. I don't even know what I'm feeling right now." He chuckled and she laughed with him, stroking her fingers on the neck flesh peaking out above his shirt collar. "It's like my heart's got a boner." She rolled her eyes but smiled at his cheekiness.
A key being turned in the lock of the heavy front door of Stella's house caused Harry to shove her body away from his. She landed on the other side of the plush beige sofa with a slight bounce, pulling her skirt back down her thighs to where it normally rested at her knees.
"Stell?" She heard her mum yell out and heard shuffling that sounded like shopping bags as she moved through the narrow hallway towards the kitchen.
"In the living room!" Stella called back, she glanced at Harry and he met her eyes, his arms folded across his chest. They smiled at each other before something caught her eye.
"Oh my God, Harry." She whispered, wide-eyed with panic, and nodded at his lap. He looked down, eyes bulging out of his head. It couldn't have been more obvious that he was rocking at half-mast in his boxers. And her mum was about to walk in. Stella quickly pulled a cushion out from under her and tossed it over to him, which he eagerly accepted, pressing it down to his lap and readjusting himself to appear as casual as possible.
Pulling out her Blackberry, Stella started scrolling as Harry reached for the remote resting on the arm of the sofa to put the telly on, switching it to an episode of Deal or No Deal.
"You alright, kids?" Stella's mum, Isobel finally entered the room and surveyed the two of them sitting on the sofa. Pulling a satin scrunchie out of her hair, she tossed her black hair forward and ruffled it, coming back up to massage her scalp with the fingers of one hand whilst leaning against the back of the chair with the other. "Deal or No Deal? Didn't know you were into this, Harry?" Isobel questioned, noting the remote sitting atop the pillow covering Harry's lap.
"Uh, yeah, it's alright, isn't it? Reminds me of my nan." Stella snorted out a laugh she couldn't keep in. Harry smirked at her, fiddling with the remote on the pillow.
"Aw, that's sweet," Isobel said, absentmindedly, mostly unbothered. "You staying for tea?" She asked, already walking out of the room.
"Uh, yeah, could do actually."
"What are we having, mum?" Stella called out.
"Spag bol, you two can do the washing up," Isobel called from where she'd started unpacking the shopping.
"Alright," Stella mumbled, just loud enough to be heard over Noel Edmunds. "Has it gone down?" She whispered to Harry.
"Slightly," he said, not taking his eyes off the telly. "Talking about my nan helped." Stella chuckled, nudging his knee with hers.
"You said you loved me," Stella muttered, fiddling with her fingers and trying to hide her wide smile.
"Yeah, hang on, The Banker's calling."
"For God's sake, Harry."
~
A few things:
I realise that some Non-British people may not understand some of the references - sorry! But I'm hoping my fellow Brits will feel some nostalgia...
The legal age to have sex is 16 here in the UK, so Stella and H are all good here.
#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#harry styles angst#harry styles fic#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles concept#harry styles fic rec
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Storia Di Musica #317 - Black Flag, Damaged, 1981
A me piace poco la musica punk. In primis, perchè nasce sotto aspetti che molto ipocriticamente non si prendono mai in causa (basta sentire quello che dice Malcom McLaren, il deus ex machina dei Sex Pistols in The Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle) rispetto alla vera natura del genere musicale; in secundis perchè si oppose con i suoi modi sguaiati e "puri" contro la grandezza tecnica del prog, soprattutto in Europa. Negli Stati Uniti fu invece un movimento molto più eterogeneo e diffuso, il cui obiettivo trasgressivo era soprattutto artistico (mentre da noi fu sprattutto estetico). Detto ciò, per i gruppi che hanno "black" nel titolo non potevo non parlarvi un po' di loro. Il loro nome, Black Flag, fu suggerito ai fondatori Greg Ginn e Keith Morris dal fratello del primo, Raymond, che aveva un nomignolo curioso, Pettibon: la bandiera nera è il simbolo del movimento anarchico, e lo stesso Raymond disegnò il logo della band, quattro righe spesse che davano la sensazione del movimento della bandiera stessa (e cosa importante, poteva essere facilmente riprodotta con le bombolette spray per i graffiti). Tutto nasce a Hermosa Beach, vicino Los Angeles, nel 1976: Greg Ginn e Keith Morris fondano un duo, che si chiama Panic. Quando scoprono che esiste già un altro gruppo dallo stesso nome, cambiano in Black Flag, come detto sopra. Con la prima formazione registrano 4 brani in un Ep dal titolo esplicativo, Nervous Breakdown, che viene stampato in 2000 copie, ma problemi con la piccola casa editrice che gli aveva pagato le registrazioni spingono Ginn a fondarne una propria: aggiunge infatti una "divisione" artistica alla sua Solid State Tuners, che è una piccola dittaq specializzata in riparazioni e costruzione di impianti per le registrazioni elettroniche, creando la SST Records, che oltre che i dischi dei Black Flag sarà una delle case discografiche indipendenti più importanti degli anni '80 per aver pubblicato Soundgarden, Meat Puppets, Minutemen, Hüsker Dü, Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Negativland tra gli altri. Cambiano nel frattempo due volte cantante: prima Morris se ne va, e viene sostituito da Ron Reyes: dura pochi mesi, registra comunque delle canzoni che verranno inserito nel secondo EP, Jealous Again, poi se ne va a Vancouver. Qui in un negozio di dischi trova l'EP in questione e legge nei crediti come cantante un certo Chavo Pederast, pensando che avessero trovato un nuovo cantante, ma ascoltandolo si accorge che è la sua voce, la band ha voluto omaggiare il suo abbandono con la prima di una serie sgangherata di azioni di satira nera per cui diventeranno proverbiali. Reyes viene sostituito da Dez Cadena. Durante un concerto a New York, un tizio sale sul palco e inizia a cantare con lui: piace a tutti gli altri, e prima viene ingaggiato come roadie, poi spostato a cantante perchè Cadena esprime il desiderio di suonare la chitarra. Il tizio si chiama Henry Garfield, ma per cantare sceglie il nome Henry Rollins. Nasce così la line up leggendaria che nell'ottobre 1981, messi sotto contratto dalla Unicorn, una sussidiaria della MCA, va negli studi a scrivere la pietra miliare dell'hardcore punk.
In copertina, Rollins che dà un pugno allo specchio (rotto con un martello, il finto sangue è un miscuglio di caffè e salsa di pomodoro). Damaged è uno degli album più estremi, nichilisti, sinceri e devastanti della storia della musica. È l'espressione, sincera, di esigenze che sono ancora oggi comuni denominatori della sofferenza generazionale giovanile. Si parte con la necessità di alzare la voce contro il muro di silenzio degli altri, nella storica Rise Above, in cerca di realizzazione: We are born with a chance\Rise above, we're gonna rise above\And I am gonna have my chance\Rise above, we're gonna rise above\We are tired of your abuse\Try to stop us, it's no use. L'adrenalina si sposta nei 33 secondi, deflagranti come una bomba, di Spray Paint, dedica al movimento dei writers tanto caro alla band. Rollins sputa parole e urla più che cantare, su un tappeto sonoro che sebbene sia "semplice" nella struttura (le canzoni hanno una loro struttura ricorrente e riconoscibile), dimostra al contempo che i nostri sanno suonare e ne sono esempio gli intricati assoli di Ginn e Cadena. Seguono in parte lo stile Ramones in Tv Party e Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie, ma è quando Rollins e compagni parlano di sofferenza, quando sputano rabbia e frustrazione, che mettono i bridivi: Room 13 è una disperata richiesta di aiuto (It's hard to survive\Don't know if I can do it\I need to belong\I need to hang on\I need, need) con la voce di Rollins al limite dello spasmo; No More inizia con il tamburo della batteria quasi a segnare un countdown, prima di esplodere nella furia della musica della band; c'è la rabbia politica contro le istituzioni, pienamente espresso in Police Story (Fucking city is run by pigs\They take the rights away from all the kids\Understand that we're fighting a war we can't win\They hate us, we hate them). Ma l'apoteosi dono le due Damaged: Damaged II è una sorta di delirio rabbioso, scandito dalle urla di Rollins (I'm confused, confused, don't wanna be confused), che è un misto tra una crisi di panico e la disperazione della solitudine, che si trasforma in ferite interne ed esterne. Ed è ancora più sconvolgente Damaged, che chiude il disco:
My name's Henry
And you're here with me now
My life
It's a song, ah
You're just, you won't even let it happen
You won't
You won't let
Damaged, by attack
e continua con dei vocalizzi che assomigliano pericolosamente ad un delirio.
Il disco fu stampato il 25 mila copie dalla Unicorn, ma quando i boss della MCA sentirono il disco, ne bloccarono la distribuzione. Senza battere ciglio, i Black Flag lo pubblicarono per la SST, con un adesivo in copertina che diceva "Come genitore, credo che questo sia un album contro i genitori", parole pronunciate dal presidente della Unicorn. Questo fu preso alla lettera dalla Polizia, che non perse occasione per intervenire durante i concerti della band, in cui spesso ci saranno dei feriti. Tutta la questione finì in una causa intentata dalla Unicorn che portò al carcere, per pochi giorni, Greg Ginn. La band tra altri cambiamenti di formazione pubblicherà un altro album inno punk, My War (1982) per poi intraprendere, fino al 1986, un percorso davvero interessante in cui alla furia iconoclasta della loro musica aggiungano elementi hard rock, più melodie e persino elementi del free jazz, grande passione di Rollins. Dopo lo scioglimento, Rollins fonderà una propria band, la Henry Rollins Band in cui proseguirà questo cammino sperimentale. I Black Flag si riformeranno due volte, negli anni 2000, ma non sarà mai la stessa cosa: non era più possibile replicare il pugno in faccia che fu questo disco, la loro rabbia, la loro disperazione, che arriva qui a vette insuperate, divenendo il seme da cui negli anni a venire nascerà di tutto: dico solo che persino il rap campionerà tantissimo questo disco, soprattutto Rise Above che fa da base a inni del genere quali Buck Whylin' di Terminator X, And What You Give is What You Get dei Beastie Boys, Real Niggaz Don't Die degli NWA e Holy Rum Swig dell'X-Clan.
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For the Put That Guy in a Situation ask game: Kaisagi with 43?
Put That Guy in a SituationTM Ask Game
43. Fake dating
🥀Michael Kaiser @mkaiserrose | 5 mon
the rumours are true. @1sag1yo1ch1 and i are together <3 you guys can stop calling him homophobic now
🗨️ 17.3k 🔃 41.0k ♥️ 54.3k
👨❤️💋👨 i miss the NEL @kiisreal | 5 mon
replying to @mkaiserrose
WAKE UP KAISAGI NATION WE WON
🗨️ 21 🔃 112 ♥️ 362
🦵 itoshi toes @putheBLinBLTV | 5 mon
replying to @mkaiserrose
I HAVE BEEN WAITING THREE YEARS FOR THIS MOMENT
🗨️ 2 🔃 14 ♥️ 124
🔔 MICHAEL JUST ONE CHANCE @kaisermyking | 5 mon
replying to @mkaiserrose
......i owe many people an apology now
🗨️ 52 🔃 42 ♥️ 22
The blue light from Isagi’s phone killed the darkness that swallowed Kaiser’s room. The light fell on the walls, making them as white as ghosts and cast shadows as dark as the ocean.
An ocean will separate us again soon enough.
Isagi killed the light, and the wide clinical expanse disappeared. He embraced the darkness that closed in on him like a warm blanket, hiding him from the big bright world that lay beyond. Here, it was just Isagi. Just Isagi and Kaiser.
With Kaiser pressed up against Isagi’s back, his unkempt strands snaked through the sheets and tickled Isagi’s chin. Kaiser’s snores were light and ceaseless, tickling the nape of Isagi’s neck. One snort synced with a heavy sigh that escaped Isagi’s throat.
Has it already been five months?
Kaiser wouldn’t make the breakup announcement until a few weeks later, but the fifth month marked the beginning of the end. To the faithful fans online, it would appear as though their beloved “Kaisagi” were in the throes of a long-distance relationship. Little would they know it was over for good.
It’s not like it was ever real in the first place. We’ll still see each other after this, won’t we? It’s all part of the job.
Still, this would be the last night Isagi spent in this room. He hated it at first with how uselessly large and boring it was. Now, Isagi hoped the sun would stay below the horizon. May it never rise and seep through Kaiser’s stupidly expensive blinds.
Let me stay here. Let me stay with you.
He would never say those words aloud. Not for fear of waking Kaiser; God knows that man can sleep through anything. No, Isagi could never bring himself to admit something so vulnerable—so pathetic—especially not to Kaiser. Kaiser had too much to use against Isagi. This whole arrangement was a massive favour Isagi would spend the rest of his life struggling to repay. He could just imagine the stupid smirk on Kaiser’s face if Isagi ever caved in.
What? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me for real. I was just trying to be nice. What would I do if my favourite step stone lost his whole career over a stupid thing he said online?
Isagi turned his phone back on. These past five months have been built on pure lies. Just this once, let me tell you something real.
🧩 Isagi Yoichi @1sag1yo1ch1 | 1s
It’s my last day before I head back to Japan. I’ll miss you, Micha.
🗨️ 0 🔃 0 ♥️ 0
#i thought my hand was healed already. it is not. so this is short. mb#blue lock#bllk#kaisagi#kiis#isagi yoichi#yoichi isagi#michael kaiser#asks#ask game#rin writes
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Don't answer this if the answer will be revealed later but I'm here questioning how much did Lock and Ed talk about this situation? We all know they both seem happy about Nel's presence but have they agreed on this? Or are they both secretly panicking about what this means?
My first thought was that yeah they talked about both of them liking Nel and wanting her to get involved but your tags about them all being idiots just made me question this...
Ok, I sat on this a bit but I've now got a coffee and I can answer properly :3 (thank you thank you thank you)
First off, they’re both absolute idiots in many respects, but they also talk about everything. Locryn is a gruff, brusque lad, but he talks with Edmund. About everything. So, when Nel starts showing up and the feels also start showing up, he's gonna talk to Ned about it.
I think the first time they talk about their mutual attraction to her is briefly after Ned’s near-drowning.
EDIT: I came back to this again even later. Because I wrote you the entire scene instead.
Locryn and Ned discuss Nel (very slight nsfw if you squint, mostly just soft and affectionate)
Content: fluff, reminder that Ned nearly drowned, shifting, and a bit of selkie and sea magic(?)
Wordcount: 2014
“Whuff, what a woman,” Locryn exclaimed as he closed the door to his cottage and shut out the whisking wind and the sight of Eleanor Bywater riding away like a queen atop that cheeky black mare. Somehow she still managed to look regal despite the fact that her clothes were soaked and covered in sand and her hair was a wild, wet mess. He didn’t like to think how she was going to explain that one to the Penroses, but perhaps she’d just say she fell off. It wasn’t very dignified, but at least it was more dignified than telling them she’d scrambled down the cliff like a maniac to haul a man from the sea. Scandalous behaviour for a young lady.
Locryn snorted a laugh at that, and scrubbed his hand across his face, stubble rasping against his palm like sharkskin.
When he looked up, his darling Ned was looking at him with a wry twist on his lips. “What?” Locryn grunted, scowling and feeling oddly self-conscious for a man who could turn into a fifteen foot long eel-monster at will.
“You think so too?” Ned asked. He had a wicked rasp to his voice from the saltwater he’d recently coughed up, and Locryn’s heart clenched at the thought of a selkie of all creatures drowning in the sea.
Ned was sitting up in bed, but he looked fragile and wrung out in a way he didn’t normally. Yes, his leg was weak, and yes he was too damned skinny, especially for a selkie, but he was wiry and tough and graceful, not weak and delicate.
“Come here,” Ned chuckled when he saw the look in his lover’s eyes, and he shunted himself over on the bed, still sitting propped against the pillows.
Locryn kicked off his boots and snagged Ned’s sealskin that was draped over a chair. He watched as Ned gasped and shuddered the way he always did when Locryn touched his sealskin, falling back into the pillows with a decadent, trembling moan. Locryn ran his fingers the wrong way through the fur, making it all stand up on end, and Ned tipped his head back with a broken cry, and he gasped and heaved, smiling through it.
“Not now, love,” he whispered, chest rising and falling like the sea against the harbour wall. “Just hold me and talk to me.”
Locryn laid the sealskin reverently across his lover’s lap like a blanket and then climbed in under the covers on Ned’s right. Being close to the skin would help Ned recover faster, connecting him to the magic, and to the sea that had spared him and borne him to safety. To Nel. He eyed the bruised lump on Ned’s forehead and scowled, pressing fingers carefully to the skin around it before dropping his hand to Ned’s bad leg and caressing the muscles there until Ned moaned and leaned his slight weight against Locryn’s massive shoulder.
���You like the lass as well then?” Locryn murmured after a while.
“Mmn,” Ned hummed. He was splaying his fingers idly through the silver fur of his sealskin, playing with the patterns of light and dark in it. It had no effect on him the way it did when someone else touched it, and he was just using it to ground himself. “There’s something about her.”
“Even her name.”
Ned paused and frowned. “Eleanor?”
“Bywater.”
“By. Water,” Ned mused. “You think it means something?”
Locryn shrugged. “Maybe yes, maybe no. I think the sea has a habit of bringing things together when she wants to make a point.”
“You think she brought Nel to us?”
“I think she brought me to you,” he said, thinking back to the first time he’d laid eyes on Ned when he’d returned so recently from his convalescence in Plymouth’s Naval Hospital. He’d looked like the wraiths that haunt the very deepest parts of the sea, but Locryn had dreamed of a drowning seal for weeks before he’d met Ned. “I don’t think it means we shouldn’t be careful, but I think… I think perhaps…” Locryn broke off with a huge sigh and looked around his tiny cottage. “Ahh, is there really room for three in here?”
“I think there’s always a way to make things work,” Ned said easily enough. Nothing ever seemed to faze him. He went with the current, seeing where he was taken and what became of it. Buccas were the ones who controlled the currents though. They didn’t like to drift; they like to steer. And Locryn liked to be in control. Ned liked it when he took control too, but really, it was Ned who guided Locryn’s hand these days more often than not.
As if he’d sensed Locryn’s frustration, Ned laughed and turned quietly onto his right hip, twisting so he could reach up to touch Locryn’s face with his left hand while his right clung to Locryn’s right shoulder for balance.
“Careful,” Locryn growled at him.
Ned just kissed him, and Locryn melted into it immediately. So much for controlling the currents, he thought as he let Ned do whatever he wanted with him. His hands found Ned’s sharp hips and narrow waist, and he kissed him until he heard the sea in his ears and pulled back. Ned was smiling, and the sound faded.
“What do you want to do about it?” Locryn asked, and Ned eased himself back to a more comfortable pose, back resting against the pillows, head on Locryn’s big shoulder.
With a shrug, he said, “We could let it play out a bit. I doubt she’ll be looking to form any kind of association, let alone attachment, with two people of our station though. She is part of the gentry after all.”
Locryn’s lip curled at that. “She can talk with a tailor, surely?”
“Tailor’s assistant,” Ned corrected.
“You finished your apprenticeship. Why you put up with that overblown piece of urchin shit, Fordyce, is beyond me. You could be your own master tailor.”
“Hush. I like it well enough. If I were my own employer, I’d have to travel and sort out all the fabric and orders myself. I like things the way they are for now. Gives me more time to come and see you too, love,” he added with a hand pointedly palming over Locryn’s groin.
He groaned and grunted, and shook his head fondly. Ned didn’t persist, but it left Locryn simmering all the same. There was something about this selkie that just got to him every time he looked at him and every time Ned touched him.
“Alright. Well, there’s the Lammas Dance coming up. Maybe you can see her then; talk to her a bit.”
“You’ll come too?”
“I hate people.”
“No you don’t,” Ned laughed, and it did Locryn a world of good to hear that bright laugh again, even if it was a little raw around the edges still. “You love people. That’s why you’re always out there, rescuing them.”
“I don’t have to talk to them though.”
“Please?”
Those big, beautiful brown eyes looked up at him though, and he was finished. “Alright, I’ll be there,” he said and thunked his head back against the wooden headboard.
For a long time, they sat in silence with the sound of the sea drifting up from the shore below the cliffs until Locryn spoke again, more to himself than to the man dozing and tucked against his side.
“You think she’d dance with me?” he murmured.
Ned didn’t respond immediately, and Locryn thought he’d slipped beneath the surface of sleep until he mumbled thickly, “If you aren’t a complete ogre when you talk to her.”
“Rude whelp,” Locryn snorted. “Go to sleep.”
“I am.”
After a while, his breathing evened out into a steady, healthy cadence, but something prickled between Locryn’s shoulder blades and he shifted. The sea was calling him again. Insistently. The shift was right beneath his skin, like a shadow racing along beneath a breaching porpoise.
Locryn sighed and untangled himself from the languid body of his sleeping lover, and from the blankets wrapped around them both, and he scooped his arms under Ned’s shoulders and his knees, sliding him carefully down the bed to rest better. He slotted a rolled up blanket under Ned’s stiff right knee to support it while he lay on his back, and then placed the sealskin atop Ned’s chest to keep him warm beneath the blankets. When he stroked the flat of his palm down it to smooth the fur out, Ned let out a long, sleepy sigh, and Locryn leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“I need to shift,” he said, rolling his shoulders and feeling the call of the sea in his blood. “There’s a fishing boat getting into trouble out in the channel.”
“Mmm. Be safe.”
“Always. You sleep, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
At the door to the cottage, he looked back over his shoulder and his heart swelled like a spring tide. The sight of Edmund, warm and safe and sleeping in his bed, would never grow old.
As Locryn made his way carefully down the narrow cliff path, he saw the places where Miss Bywater had slipped and skidded, scuffing long ruts in the sandy path from the haste of her descent, and he couldn’t help but admire a young woman who would throw herself along so recklessly, risking injury to herself and a near drowning besides, to rescue someone she didn’t know.
His feet stopped just as the sea prickled again up his spine like a cold winter wave.
“The sea didn’t warn me about Ned,” he breathed, staring at the rolling waves in the cove below as the realisation struck him like a stray breaker. “You didn’t warn me?” he accused the empty, rolling ocean.
Did that mean Ned had never been in real danger despite what it had looked like, or that the sea had chosen to call someone else? Was there magic here or was it all coincidence?
Kicking his feet into motion, he pulled his shirt off roughly over his head and bit back an animal growl. He slouched down the remainder of the path and across the short stretch of exposed sand before dumping his shirt on a rock that the sea never touched. He stripped his trousers, socks and boots off too, and stepped naked into the waves. The water was cold, but to him it was as welcome as Ned’s chilly fingers on his skin.
The water lapped around his ankles and sloshed up his thighs as he strode into the sea, and in the soft, liminal space between sand and open sea, he let the shift take him.
He thrashed in the water, sending up a spray of foaming sea as his legs fused and the magic took over that bound him to the sea as surely as the sea was bound to the moon.
Out there in the channel, a small skiff had been sucked off-course by a stray current and was drifting helplessly despite the efforts of the exhausted men at the oars and tiller. With a thrash of his own oar-like tail and a gesture of his clawed hands, he twisted a new current to take the little boat back to Polgarrack and waited until the men called out with joy and slumped while the boat bobbed away towards the distant harbour.
There amid the kelp, and with the fishermen heading confidently in the right direction, Locryn twisted like a ribbon in the breeze and dove downwards. Water passed through his gills and rolled across his tongue, and he tasted salt.
Whenever he tasted salt like that on his tongue, it meant a change in the currents. Sometimes the sea’s currents would drift and wander and drift back again, and sometimes it was a change that stuck forever.
He had no idea which one lay on the horizon, but whatever it brought, he and Ned would face it together.
That was one thing that would never change.
___
I tripped and fell and wrote 2k words because people are nice and engagement with stories is life. Thank you! I hope you liked it.
[full story here: Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw), Part Seven (sfw)]
| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)
#laces for a lady#BONUS CHAPTER#selkie#selkie x bucca#polyamory#18th century#18th century romance#shifter romance#exophilia
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Hello it's me again? My apologizes if requests aren't open or anything (or if it's too long). I wanted to request Tsuntsun Barou Shouei. Barou often acts like a tsuntsun (Tsuntsun: A tsundere but their default personality is cold and blunt), and he's a bit harsher with reader (reserved/chill). While the Ubers are chilling out, Aryu confronts this and says how it's almost like Barou has a crush on reader (very ✨glam✨ of him). Barou immediately gets defensive by this comment, going on a rant on why he would never such a person like reader. However this just becomes more proof that Barou does like reader and now every Uber is teasing Barou and calling cap to the point even Snuffy calls Barou out on the bluff. Bonus: Other Blue Lock players who aren't even on Ubers call cap as well, like Bachira, Chigiri, Isagi, or whoever you want 👍
WAIT I'VE NEVER HEARD OF TSUNTSUN BUT. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OMG.
Requests open! - NEL assistant masterlist
Tags: gn!assistant reader, tsuntsun!Barou, reader is a lil oblivious
Series synopsis: You, Claire (@deerangle3) and Mao (me) are assistants in the Neo Egoist League. (I haven't added Claire and me to something in a while HSNFNNDSD we only make a lil cameo in this)
It's one of those evenings when half of the Ubers team asked you and your coworkers to hang out again, so of course, none of yu could say no. While Claire and Mao are mostly busy talking to Lorenzo, you find yourself in a conversation with Oliver and Sendou. You're very oblivious to it, but both of them are flirting with you.
Barou hears all of that and it makes the feeling of jealousy rise in him, although he doesn't admit it to himself. Barou mumbles something under his breath about how Oliver and Sendou are so stupid for flirting with you because you deserve someone much better than them. Aryu hears that, and without caring if anyone else hears him, he says: "Sounds like you've got a crush on (Y/N)."
Immediately, Barou gets extremely defensive and lists any possible reason why he doesn't have a crush on you. But then, that suddenly drifts off into naming all the reasons why he has a crush on you. Although, he tries to hide that and acts as if they're also reasons to dislike you.
By now, the entire room has gone silent and everyone's listening to what Barou says. He only realizes that when he finishes and he's trying to hide his embarrassment.
It's so obvious. Way too obvious. Now everyone is teasing Barou about being so obvious with the way he tries to hide his true feelings for you.
Just silly little you doesn't properly understand it and think everyone's just joking. Especially because Barou still refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you.
Somehow, a few days later even Snuffy knows about it and sometimes when you're doing work around the other teams, you can hear them talking about how they've heard that Barou has a crush on you. Only that makes you realize no one was genuinely joking when they were teasing Barou for having a crush on you.
But it's a bit weird how half of the Blue Lock members that aren't even in the Ubers team know about it. Claire and Mao probably told them. They definitely did.
#bllk#blue lock#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x you#shouei barou#barou shouei#bllk barou#blue lock barou#barou x reader#barou x you#shouei barou x reader#shouei barou x you
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[ coffee ] allured by the bitter aroma of a beverage often favored by the little ones over the centuries, she had gravitated in the direction of its source, helping herself to a steaming cup with a partial smile of rare enthusiasm. among those meant for humans, coffee had one a rare place with her as a seldom-found treat of which some varieties promised to be strong enough for even a dragon's palate. with one more gratified inhale to savor the rising steam, she brings the delicate mug to her lips, and sips.
. . .
and in the next moment, calmly locates a familiar white head enjoying his own alley of the ballroom, and, without notice or greeting, presses the cup wordlessly into his hands, then steps quietly aside to take familiarity in his company.
/ / /
( it's too sweet AKKLSSKGJ
this is the wordless dinner table shuffling off of ur carrots onto ur siblings plate
The Ethereal Ball was once more at hand and unfailingly the same were the sore lack of culinary extremes. Dishes concocted by humans for humans could not remotely hope to satisfy Fell Dragons, particularly not one who preferred those made in a dozen times the usual quantity of sugar. His hunt through the confection table persisted until Nel's shadow fell upon him, the wordless transaction between sister and brother earning a spattering of red-eyed blinks and nothing more. Acclimation to such a sister meant knowing that she committed no act without reason. Said acclimation shifted seamlessly into trust as he sipped of the contents to reach his own answer.
"I see now why you have given this to me, sister." Now the abrupt exchange made sense, as if it were the product of a stinging disappointment. Taciturn disgruntlement certainly not at all to imagination where the Nel-worldly Rafal was concerned. Alternatively, it was precisely the imagination of it that whetted his amusement. "To you, what is inordinately sweet may as well be bitter. To be ambushed by such a burst of flavor, I would have liked to have seen the look on your face."
No matter his teasing the mug stayed its place in his hand. A taste too sweet for Nel was to Rafal just right; a welcome salvation that could be repurposed of sister's damnation; and as for what he had seen in the space at her side, perhaps yet to be discerned on the scale of those things. As the blanket of companionable silence settled over two halves with an old and homely weight, he sipped once more, spoke again only with the words tucked coyly behind a rim.
"Your entrance earlier did not go without notice. Or company." As thanks for the drink he did not mold his comment into a sharp question suitable for interrogations at knife point. But still a probe was a probe no matter how veiled in form. "Of all my centuries known to you, I was not aware that your fondness for the little ones extended in—" Sip. Side-eye. ". . .that way."
#◜ ₊ — 𝓡 ˚ ₊ 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ╱ askbox.#nelithic#toaball2024#all little brothers are the same#it doesn't matter whether they're human or dragon#nosiness is universal#rafal: nel are you gæ. do you like humans.
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I'm of the less popular opinion that Nnoitra hated Nel not because she was a woman, or was above him as a warrior and a woman, but simply because she pitied him. I think he hated being pitied, and probably what he saw as "babied" and belittled by her actions in saving or sparing him every time he was close to death. It's mirrored in him mocking Grimmjow for being saved by Ichigo from his killing blow, it's something he never wants to experience for himself again.
I also think, again, VERY UNPOPULAR opinion, that if he had wanted to kill Nel in battle, he would've. I know that probably for story sake, Kubo didn't have him fight with his all in his square off with Nel after she got her power back. But I can't help noticing that he 100% could've had Nnoitra stay more to the personality he's shown us by overwhelming her to begin with, rather than allowing her to go into her release form. If he had gone into his own release form, I think he would've won, but it's not what he wanted.
I have so many thoughts about this man, thank you for the space to toss them
Oo im eating good today! I didnt think about that him mocking grimmjow was kind of a reflection of how he saw something he hated; to be spared and pitied during a battle; it really hurts the very little amount of ego he has inside. And that statement about him hating Nel due to her pitiying him and not because she’s a woman does make sense, because he didnt actively look to assert his dominance on women just because he hated them. He would have done that to harribel otherwise. Also, his character is based off a praying mantis: the males of this species can be eaten by the female mantises while mating. I think this part is a parallell to him feeling inferior to not neccesarily all women, but Nel in particular.
The second part is also true. He would usually be more aggresive, just like he was when he fought ichigo for trying to protect nel. I guess its for the story, but i have a small theory that he had a hint of fear in him. After all he did, going out of his way to doing a dirty trick and seeing her become a child unable to fight, she was still able to rise to his level once again. Well, not exactly on the same level, but definitely able to fight. I think he saw something he wanted: to crawl from being worthless, something he was constantly called by her, to become a warrior worthy to get killed in battle. He likely had a feeling in him that despite climbing up two espada ranks, he still felt stagnant and didnt progress the way he wanted: he was still unworthy of being killed. Two contrasting character developments here!!
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How do you think Reo would've treated Nagi if kunigirireo won the match and they picked him?
Good question 🤔 thank you for sending it over! I had fun playing around with the idea before I could come up with a response. I'm not too good at what if scenarios tho so take my thoughts on this with a grain of salt!
I think that winning Nagi back under those circumstances would exacerbate their miscommunication more than it would solve it, you know? Here's my reasoning for why.
A big factor in why Reo forgave Nagi in the NEL arc was not that Nagi chose him, per se, but that Nagi asked Reo along in Nagi's own dream. Reo's attitude until Nagi offers that is still fairly cold. He's not moved by Nagi needing him, or by his apologies, or by his compliments. It's specifically the fact that Nagi grew enough to develop his own aspirations, and that he wanted to share them with Reo just as much as Reo originally wanted to share his with Nagi. This, I believe, because Reo too matured enough in their time apart to recognize he basically forced his dream on Nagi instead of giving Nagi room to grow one on his own.
Now, if they were to reconcile before that development…
The main difference with the NEL arc is that it wouldn’t be Nagi asking Reo along, but once again Reo picking Nagi, and Nagi going with it. Of course, by this point Nagi at least has enough motivation to want to stay in blue lock, but flipping their positions to mirror their earlier stances negates the reciprocity that their bond had just acquired in the NEL arc.
It also wouldn’t fully assuage Reo’s insecurities, imho. On the one hand, Reo would likely feel vindicated. He won Nagi back from Isagi, thus proving to himself that he deserves to stay at Nagi’s side more. Proving it to Nagi is a whole other matter. For that, given Reo’s perfectionism and sky-high standards, he would want Nagi’s approval from the man himself (oblivious to the fact he had it all along). Even more so after a win. He would want to be sure Nagi prefers him over Isagi, at the very least. However, I doubt Nagi would be very receptive. Since from Nagi’s pov his partnership with Reo is a given, and he was never looking for a replacement, he would not rise to meet Reo’s need for validation.
So. They wouldn’t talk about it. Then I’d expect their soccer to get worse on top of that, too.
Reo would go back to relying on Nagi's genius, and without the threat of elimination and giving up on his dream he wouldn't feel as compelled to develop his chameleon style. And Nagi would go back to relying on Reo’s creativity and revert from the growth his playstyle just had with Isagi. So their monster combo would actually get worse, without their respective soccer growth factoring in.
my soccer meta on this: Nagi’s ego (or at least his motivation) isn't active but reactive. It sparks in response to a challenge that shakes off his boredom. Back in team V, Nagi was at his most apathetic when he was up against opponents much weaker than him and Reo combined, while his head was actually in the game when he met egoists that made him work for a victory. Isagi understood this side of him much better than Reo imho, what with them being the same in that respect. Nagi adapts well to Isagi's playstyle because Isagi is a monster constantly seeking stronger rivals to devour, and Nagis' ego thrives off that "excitement" too. Then, when he played with Isagi, Nagi was more involved in the game, more proactive. Whereas when he goes back to Reo, he mooches off Reo's own vision of a goal.
As for Reo, his real strengths lies in his dexterity as an allrounder and in his aptness at replicating highly specialized plays, both of which are skills he fully hones only to play a soccer that is at Nagi’s level of genius. With Nagi readily available, he would simply pass to him and never develop his chameleon style, the thing that drew Nagi back to him in the first place.
Basically, by relying on Nagi too much, Reo would open up the chance of making his own playstyle too “boring” to sate Nagi’s newfound soccer curiosity. And by reverting to the role of Reo’s right hand man, dulling his own genius and his spark for the game, Nagi would exacerbate Reo’s belief that Nagi only ever tried hard for Isagi, and thus that Reo’s inferior to him.
Of course, I might be wrong about this. Things could get better if Nagi still developed his dream of beating Isagi and if he still asked Reo along. But they could also get a lot worse if Reo misconstructed it as Nagi only having eyes for Isagi now, even after Reo “won him back”. With the added weight that without Reo’s chameleon style this time around, Nagi wouldn’t think their combo would be strong enough to beat his rival and thus wouldn’t seek Reo’s aid and prompt the conversation that leads up to their reconciliation
I hope this makes sense! and thanks again for sending me such an interesting question!
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Right through the heart
Everytime I think that there's nothing I didn't cover in my previous GrimmNell meta posts - Kubo gives me a new reason for a brainrot.
Finally! We know! The placement of Nelliel's Hole!
Maybe my excitement looks a little weird, but I still remember all the hot theories and jokes around this topic. For years people suggested different locations: in her head, between her breasts and etc. There was even a theory that Nel is special and doesn't have a hole at all. And... in the end all these speculations missed the right spot.
Answering the infamous question for the Klub Outside, Kubo wrote one word. The heart.
And before your memory recalls the meme page, let's make it clear. The answer was - 心臓. Not the metaphorical kokoro Kubo is famous for. In Nel's case it's about a literal heart, a physical organ.
To be honest, the author's answer wasn't very helpful for remaining Nelliel's fan artists. Does it mean that Nel's hole isn't visible unless you use x-ray? Or her chest is indeed pierced through the heart? Than what's about correction for her Beyond Resurrección design?
Thinking about it, I unconsciously remembered my old meta about Nel's aspect of death and possible prototype for her centauress form:
With mourning words, which clamor of the fight
prevented me from hearing, she threw herself
on the spear that pierced her Cyllarus and fell
upon his breast, embracing him in death
Suddenly, the resemblance with the Greek tragic romance became even more clear. A female warrior, who was always with her lover, fighting every battle by his side. Her partner was fatally injured - "where the chest rises to the neck—his heart". And she followed him in death, lamenting over him.
Too many coincidences, isn't it? Besides, according to the Masked databook, arrancar's hole represents something that's difficult to fill. The loss of the beloved one is quit fitting. In general, the placement of Nel's hole barely beats romantic allegations. It doesn't help either that the song and the poem Kubo dedicated to her are about love as well.
Long story short: once again Kubo gave a reason to see Nelliel in a romantic light. It's still up to debates how much arrancars remember from their previous life and how deeply it affects them, but who knows… Maybe Nelliel's caring and sometimes overbearing nature is a result of her own work on mistakes. She doesn't want to feel the pain of losing someone anymore - that's why she takes everything under her control. Too bad, that the current object of her biggest concern is such a reckless fellow~
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[ 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 ] ; chapter 6
fire rains from the sky, blood spills on the ground. the world shifts beneath their feet, and fogado laughs.
over rifts does he sail, running past spears and knives on his own two feet (for the phantom of a horse he rode disappeared long, long ago) while his laughter carries on the wind. he can't remember what it feels like to be exhausted, pleasantly, by a freedom dash across plains and sands. it's been so long. the only joy he knows now is in the sky weeping bombs and the way his sword slips across throats.
but his feet have purpose. fogado knows where he is running. as he makes another jump, the sudden elevation of rubble against dirt makes him trip. he falls, rolls a tad, and is back up with a missing tooth and a smile all the wider for it. he staaaares at alcryst (whom he is now in front of, mad dash having been made for the comfort of another soulless soul in the fray).
“ alcryst! ” fogado calls simply, the glitter in his eyes a foul play at who he might have been in another timeline. “ alcryst, ain't it just grand? all this death around us? haha, doesn't it just feel like everything's breaking down around us?! ”
a distant howl makes fogado shiver from head to toe. a razing heat rises from the ground and the air itself lights up a foreboding magenta. “ don't you just love it? ” comes fogado's voice through the haze. “ we die, then come back, then die, then come back. it's risk free! no problem! ” there's an itch in the back of his mind---a warning that, perhaps, this time should not be so carelessly squandered---but fogado decides it's not worth itching.
so instead of indulging instinct, fogado throws up his weapons and grabs alcryst's hands, gripping them tight.
“ hey, alcryst, ” he whispers with a smile that sparkles in his eyes.
“ do you have any regrets? ”
the clouds above them force open, regurgitating a mass of burning fell power. its strength undiscerning and uncaring, it falls as it's told, and the shadow increases. fogado's grip tightens, and his bleeding smile almost cracks.
“ if you do, then let's die together, ” he says, watching alcryst now. “ and if you don't, then let's die together anyways. let's die so we can live again, okay? ”
here,
or somewhere different.
fell xenologue: takes place after loss and hurt
Alcryst is still processing the truth.
Everyone is dead. He is dead, or at least is supposed to be. Because… how can he be a Corrupted? Alcryst looks down at himself, whole and healthy and entirely unlike the monsters they once thought. There has to be some kind of mistake…
…There isn’t, is there? Alcryst remember’s Nel’s betrayal, his brother’s fearful bleating as he faded from this world. His mind then goes to that terrible day, the day he lost Lapis. He had no idea how he survived all those Corrupted. Is that when he died?
Fogado interrupts as always. The sorry excuse for a man was already a pain in the ass in life. In rebirth, having “conquered” death and lost his grip with reality, he’s somehow managed to become worse. And Alcryst would not forget that Fogado knew all this time, not just knew but helped Lord Nil with his schemes and machinations.
The prince is just as complicit. He knows this and still has the gall to act like they’re friends making dinner plans.
Fogado grabs his hands. Alcryst wrests them away, appalled, and strikes the other man across the face. It’ll goad Fogado to push him further, but he’s too angry to care. “How dare you presume to touch me. My only regret is that I can’t kill you where you stand.” They’re both puppets dancing on their strings, fellow soldiers of Lord Nil’s Corrupted army. They may have fought and detested each other in life, but in death they are commanded to work together. Protect Lord Nil. Allow him to gain true power, just as he dreamed. They are the only dreams left in this dying world. It’s something to protect, isn’t it?
Alcryst shakes his head. Something Fell twists his thoughts even now. If this is the nonsense that he can expect as one of Lord Nil’s Corrupted, then it’s no wonder Fogado is insane. “It’s our Lord that will decide if we come back, isn’t it? He could leave you dead on a whim. But if that’s what you choose, Fogado, then don’t let me stop you.” Alcryst waves him off, chin raised in defiant pride. “Feel free to enslave yourself to him. You’ve always been a filthy cur—an existence as someone’s collared dog ought to suit you just fine,” he sneers. “If he dares to try the same with me, he won’t live long enough to regret it.”
There’s more Alcryst could say, but it’s wasted on this rotten slab of meat. With a flourish of his cape he turns his back to the prince. “Chrom!” he calls, and the Emblem immediately imbues him with power.
The Bracelet of the Shepherd Exalt relies heavily on its wielder’s existing bonds. With its strength comes a flood of memories, of bonds lost and broken, his loved ones lost to the flames of war. Of course he has regrets. Their names are Diamant. Morion. Sapphire. Citrinne.
Lapis.
The words come easily, an effect of being Engaged. “You were the wind at my back. The sword at my side.” And how true they are. Alcryst lifts his head towards broken skies, wondering if Lapis sees what’s transpiring here. “Together, we could have built a peaceful world…” So where did we go wrong?
#answered#losojos decupido#alcryst's point of death is meant to be vague. i believe that is a sojiboji decision not a brenny wenny one#thank you for sending! i had so much fun#alcryst not really. but i did :)
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Year-End Poll #9: 1958
More information about this blog here
Now that we're reaching the end of the decade, we're seeing the culmination of the rising trends coming together in the charts. Traditional pop, early rock and roll, Latin pop, and the novelty song. Even going beyond the genres themselves, 1958 also marks a shift regarding the business side of the music industry. In August of this year, the Billboard Hot 100 was officially implemented, but we won't see the effects of that until next year. The 1950s serves as a fascinating transitional period in music culture.
And just to make things more complicated, some versions of the 1958 year-end chart feature both the A-sides and B-sides of some of the songs. I wondered if it had something to do with the introduction of the Hot 100, or perhaps because the B-sides charted equally or higher on different charts. But I have nothing to base that hypothesis off of and my own research hasn't helped me find anything. I reached out on the Billboard subreddit for help and a user named jdeeth was kind enough to give me a more thorough explanation. To make a long story short: in addition to the implementation of the Hot 100, 1958 was also the year Billboard started listing two-sided hits as a single entry, but this practice didn't catch on. However, there are future entries where two-sided hits are listed simultaneously again, but under different circumstances so I'll cross that bridge when it comes up.
#billboard poll#billboard music#tumblr poll#music poll#1950s music#1958#1950s#domenico modugno#the everly brothers#elvis presley#david seville#alvin and the chipmunks#perez prado#billy vaughn#perry como#the champs#tommy edwards#dean martin
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Era la Vigilia di Natale e in un villaggio di campagna, un bambino si recò nel bosco alla ricerca di un ceppo di quercia da bruciare nel camino, come voleva la tradizione, nella notte Santa.Si attardò più del previsto e, sopraggiunta l’oscurità, non seppe ritrovare la strada per tornare a casa. Per giunta incominciò a cadere una fitta nevicata.Il bimbo si sentì assalire dall’angoscia e pensò a come, nei mesi precedenti, aveva atteso quel Natale, che forse non avrebbe potuto festeggiare.Nel bosco, ormai spoglio di foglie, vide un albero ancora verdeggiante e decise di rifugiarsi sotto i suoi rami: era un abete.Sopraggiunta una grande stanchezza, il piccolo si addormentò raggomitolandosi ai piedi del tronco e l’albero, intenerito, abbassò i suoi rami fino a far loro toccare il suolo in modo da formare come una capanna che proteggesse dalla neve e dal freddo il bambino.La mattina si svegliò, sentì in lontananza le voci degli abitanti del villaggio che si erano messi alla sua ricerca e, uscito dal suo ricovero, ancora stordito e impaurito per la brutta avventura, poté con grande gioia riabbracciare i suoi compaesani.Solo allora tutti si accorsero del meraviglioso spettacolo che si presentava davanti ai loro occhi: la neve caduta nella notte, posandosi sui rami frondosi, che la piana aveva piegato fino a terra. Aveva formato dei festoni, delle decorazioni e dei cristalli che, alla luce del sole che stava sorgendo, sembravano luci sfavillanti, di uno splendore incomparabile.In ricordo di quel fatto, l’abete venne adottato a simbolo del Natale e da allora in tutte le case viene addobbato ed illuminato, quasi per riprodurre lo spettacolo che gli abitanti del piccolo villaggio videro in quel lontano giorno.Da quello stesso giorno gli abeti nelle foreste hanno mantenuto, inoltre, la caratteristica di avere i rami pendenti verso terra.
WEB
********************
It was Christmas Eve and in a country village, a child went into the woods in search of an oak stump to burn in the fireplace, as tradition dictated, on Holy night.He lingered longer than expected and, when darkness came, he was unable to find his way back home. In addition, a heavy snow began to fall.The child felt attacked by anguish and thought of how, in the previous months, he had waited for that Christmas, which perhaps he could not have celebrated.In the woods, now stripped of leaves, he saw a still green tree and decided to take refuge under its branches: it was a fir.A great tiredness came, the little one fell asleep curling up at the foot of the trunk and the tree, moved, lowered its branches until they touched the ground so as to form a hut that protected the child from snow and cold.In the morning he woke up, heard in the distance the voices of the villagers who had set out in search of him and, having come out of his shelter, still dazed and frightened by the bad adventure, he was able to embrace his fellow villagers again with great joy.Only then did everyone realize the wonderful spectacle that was presented before their eyes: the snow that had fallen in the night, settling on the leafy branches, which the plain had bent down to the ground. He had formed festoons, decorations and crystals which, in the light of the rising sun, looked like sparkling lights of incomparable splendour.In memory of that fact, the fir was adopted as a symbol of Christmas and since then it has been decorated and lit up in all the houses, almost to reproduce the spectacle that the inhabitants of the small village saw on that distant day.Since that same day, the fir trees in the forests have also maintained the characteristic of having branches hanging towards the ground.
WEB
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Lucio Dalla || Telefonami tra vent'anni (Call me in twenty years || Italian lyrics + English translation
Telefona tra vent'anni
Call in twenty years
Io adesso non so cosa dirti
I don't know what to tell you right now
Ah, non so risponderti
Ah, I can't give you an answer
E non ho voglia di capirti
And I don't feel like understanding you
Invece pensami, tra vent'anni pensami
Instead think of me, in twenty years think of me
Io con la barba più bianca
With a whiter beard
E una valigia in mano
And holding a suitcase
Con la bici da corsa
With a racing bike
E gli occhiali da sole
And sunglasses
Fermo in un qualsiasi posto del mondo
Stopping anywhere in the world
Chissà dove
Who knows where
Tra miliardi, miliardi di persone
Among billions and billions of people
A bocca aperta senza parole
Mouth agape, speechless
Nel vedere una mongolfiera
As I see a hot-air balloon
Che si alza piano piano
Slowly rising up
E cancella dalla memoria
And erasing from my memory
Tutto quanto il passato
The past as a whole
Anche le linee della mano
Even my palm lines
Mentre dall'alto un suono
While, from above, a sound
Come un suono prolungato
Like a prolonged sound
Di un pensiero che è appena nato
Of a newly born thought
Si avvicina e scende giù
Is getting closer and coming down
Ah, io sarei lo stronzo
Ah, so I'm supposed to be the asshole
Quello che guarda troppo la televisione
The one who watches too much television
Beh, qualche volta lo sono stato
Well, I've been that a couple times
L'importante è avere in mano la situazione
Having a hold on the situation is what counts
Non ti preoccupare
Don't you worry
Di tempo per cambiare ce n'è
There's plenty of time to change
Così ripensami, tra vent'anni ripensami
So think of me again, in twenty years think of me again
Vestito da torero
In a bullfighter costume
Con una torta in mano
Holding a cake
L'orecchio puntato verso il cielo
An ear towards the sky
Verso quel suono lontano, lontano
Towards that faraway, faraway sound
Ma ecco che si avvicina
And suddenly it comes closer
Con un salto siamo nel Duemila
With a jump we're in 2000
Alle porte dell'universo
At the gates of the universe
L'importante è non arrivarci in fila
What counts is not getting there in a line
Ma tutti quanti in modo diverso
But each one in a different way
Ognuno con i suoi mezzi
Each with one's own means
Magari arrivando a pezzi
Maybe broken and exhausted
Su una vecchia bicicletta da corsa
On an old racing bicycle
Con gli occhiali da sole
With sunglasses
E il cuore nella borsa
And one's heart inside the bag
Impara il numero a memoria
Learn the number by heart
Corri, scrivilo sulla pelle
Quick, write it on your skin
E se telefoni tra vent'anni
And if you call in twenty years
Butta i numeri fra le stelle
Throw the numbers among the stars
Dalle porte dell'universo
From the gates of the universe
Un telefono suona ogni sera
A phone rings every night
Sotto un cielo di tutte le stelle
Under a sky made of all the stars
Di un'inquietante primavera
Of a disquieting spring
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" or for Isagi to stop looking at Rin's thighs whichever is easier" I- 🤣. ( this was so noticeable in that leg extension machine scene he had no reason to go and check up on him, stop him from overworking and prompt him to take rest but he DID)
I thought I was crazy for thinking that abt that one Rin panel but I'm glad I'm not the only one, since Kaisagi is rising in popularity esp w/ Hiori's comments abt the in-universe social media. Idk whether to lament over the lack of rinsagi or absolutely LOSE it over Isagi's reaction. Like it wasn't the kind of cute denial that Raichi was saying it was, bro was so OFFENDED. I can't.
Then again, it makes sense since public has seen more of Kaiser-Isagi than with Rin. I wonder what Isagi's reaxn would be if it had been Rin's name that had come like that 👀. Definitely not visceral disgust to this level.
Besides, recent chapters had carved a place for kainess in my heart and I feel like those 2 should cuddle and go to therapy. ( Any thoughts on recent chapters, that choking scene was disturbing...).
Do u think the light novels and profiles are not written by Kaneshiro? Bcz while they weren’t bad at all( they were quite great) there was this missing spark in them. Like with Isagi, they made him out to be able to see mosquitos across a room and note the temp change in the air as a BABY?? I-??????. I am very confused.
And in a profile, he has 200 level or smth eyesight?? Normal is 150 so.., idk maybe I am just being extremely dumb.
But to me, manga Isagi was so loveable and inspiring bcz he was a normal person who was willing to break and challenge himself to reach his goal, forging a will that was strong enough to withstand all the pressure. Not superpowers.
And in his profile, his type is someone who smiles a lot and it fits bachira but to me it sounds like another way to fit in to what people expect of him. There was a meta on Isagi and anger expression floating around in tumblr. And it says how Isagi loved Noa's style bcz of how brutal it was and through football he was able to exert anger in a socially acceptable way instead of being the peace maker and going along with Ichinan style football and just agreeing with Tada's decisions and blue lock is a release frm that. And like you said, isagi isn't as driven abt bachira as he is about him. Narratively too, that is a good thing, allowing bachira to make new connections and new bonds in Spain instead of being fixated with Isagi. And frankly, I don’t think it's healthy for Bachira to get with the first person to be his friend. Let him experience life first.
Well then, I am so excited for Pxg VS BM. The potential match ups, Kaiser most def knows Sae so some interesting conflict w/ Rin if he mentions that like Luna did. The Isagirin matchup, I'm just so excited. Also ,"# Stop looking at Rin's thighs challenge."
P.S. - I wrote a Rinsagi fic, so plz check it out.
How can I read your fic if you didn't send a link lol
Kaneshiro-sensei literally addressed the Kai//sagi shippers in the chapter: nope, not happening, no way, via Isagi himself. He may subvert this later on, but as far as I can tell, given the story's trajectory + Isagi's own character arc, it won't happen. Kaiser will most likely be coming back as a rival/enemy in the U20 World Cup arc too. There simply is no motivation for Isagi to ally with him at all.
Rin's spotlight and turn is coming up, so again, I'm not worried about the current lack of Isagi and Rin moments. It is supposed to be THE highlight of the NEL arc for good reason. And yeah, I doubt Isagi would be as offended if fans had been saying that about him and Rin. On the down low he really is fond of and respects Rin, whereas he despises Kaiser for just about everything besides his skill in soccer.
Truthfully, I've grown a little bored of the recent chapters. Not so much that they aren't good chapters, but more that there's a lack of variety to the characters. IMO Kaneshiro-sensei has hit a bit of a wall on character cast and variety - Ness' backstory is a touch too commonly seen for me to really get into, and feels lacking in effort, though tbf Ness is at best a tertiary character in-series who's there to prop up Kaiser's story.
No real thoughts yet on the choking scene. Currently it's only a sign of Kaiser's desperation to me. The throne he thought he had secured might well be about to collapse from underneath him due to Isagi's growing skill. Seeing how he'll match up against Rin is also interesting, seeing how Rin is actually very much self-sufficient as a striker, while Kaiser thus far seems quite dependent on Ness. I also believe that the PXG match will bring Kaiser into direct confrontation with Loki, who is posited as thus far the best U20 striker we've seen, given how he's a master for the PXG team, rather than simply a fellow player. Fingers crossed that Loki smokes all of them, including Noa, if he comes out to play too.
No, the light novel most likely isn't written by Kaneshiro-sensei, given what I know of the industry. The bulk of it is likely by Moegi Momo-sensei; with credit given to Kaneshiro-sensei because he's the OG creator of the Blue Lock series. That said, there's a good chance that Kaneshiro-sensei provided Moegi-sensei with story ideas and rough character backgrounds who then developed it into proper stories for novelization.
The character profiles are more likely to be done by Kaneshiro-sensei himself, though I am going to point out that it's published as 'supervised by', rather than 'written by'.
Emphasizing this: I generally don't care about light novels, character profiles etc. in terms of my interpretation of the story. To me, what appears in the manga is the only canon there is. Everything else that's official are canon-adjacent and supplementary; fun to read and get an idea of how the characters' personalities and relationships are off-page, but otherwise unimportant unless explicitly referenced in-story. Whatever is not depicted in the manga proper is free real estate.
As for Isagi in the light novel. Well.
He reads as autistic, from that apparent hypersensitivity + his hyperfocused interest in football, and as I've mentioned before: Isagi is also written very much as a tabula rasa, a blank slate of sorts, for target readers to be able to slip themselves into. I think that the emphasis is on Isagi having very clear vision, his personal advantage, amongst the rest of the cast, but again, to me, the light novel is not as important as what we see depicted in the manga proper.
No comments on Isagi's type in the profile, and how it could be Bachira. They're decently written together, and I understand why people would ship them, but they are also just kind of 'meh' for me. Kaneshiro-sensei may intend to write them as a pair, but they are a pretty run-of-the-mill standard MC + best friend ship, with the highlight being Bachira's personal growth via his relationship with Isagi. There are more satisfying ships for me in Blue Lock, and better romances in other animanga series, and while I am fond of shipping, I'm not reading Blue Lock for the shipping. It's just a nice bonus that I find Isagirin's relationship so damn interesting that I've stayed invested.
I haven't read that meta, but that's an interesting interpretation of Isagi's character. Blue Lock is somewhat of a meta commentary on the failures of the general Japanese culture's need to conform to societal pressures and not 'rock the boat', and how it has led to an under performance in football. Isagi as a whole has also been growing more assertive and more confrontational with others, though Kaiser's the only one whom he views with solid enmity.
In the light novel, Isagi's idolization of Noa stemmed from how Noa bypassed the opposing team one after the other, and then from how Noa would rather 'lose a game by a hat trick than win one with an assist'. And doesn't that sound quite like a certain someone, lmao.
Cheers to having PXG match to look forward to next year after the hols!!
#niki answers asks#drop the fic link!!#also I want to see Karasu so badly#and i would not be opposed to seeing barcha vs pxg match#bachira has his own relationship with rin independent of isagi too!! he lost to rin in the second selection too!!
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I am once again going insane over Giulio Cesare in Egitto. Mostly its libretto. God.
Cornelia's almost melodic recitative breaking up Curio and Cesare's very rhythmic conversation, especially when saying "Da pace all'armi"? The sudden rise of Achilla's "questa del gran Pompeo superba testa" followed by a return to the calmer recitative from before with "di base al regal trono" because he thinks he did nothing wrong?
The whiplash between "Svegliatevi nel core, furie d'un alma offesa, a far d'un traditor aspra vendetta!" and "L'ombra del genitore, accorre a mia difesa e dice: a te il rigor, figlio, figlio, si aspetta"? The entirety of "Alma del Gran Pompeo"??
The tension in the rise and fall of Nireno and Cleopatra's "Troncar fè Tolomeo il capo... / Ohimè! di chi? / Del gran Pompeo" and later "Che gli mandò? / L'esanimato volto"?? The absolute clash between the melody and lyrics of "Tu sei il cor di questo core" that combines somewhat apologetic and tender-sounding lyrics with loud threatening music? And I think there's a musical Dies Irae reference in there? The first word of Cesare and Tolomeo's arias about each other being "l'empio"??
The absolute rawness of the line "L'aure che spira tirano e fiero egli non merta di respirar"? The melody of "Vanni son i lamenti" as Sesto announces his desire for revenge and "Sappi, perfido monstro" after he fulfils it being the same?
The climax of "Son nata a lagrimar" mirroring Cesare and Cleopatra's "verá" through harmony in the final duet, comparing the separation of act 1 with the reuniting of act 3? Tolomeo yelling "Sveglia! Sveglia!" in Cornelia's face after "svegliare" being established as basically Sesto's word in "Svegliatevi"? And Sesto's being a prayer and request while Tolomeo's is an order???
I AM LOSING MY MIND (affectionately)
#Nicola Hay (author of the libretto) was a goddamn genius#the recitatives are SO GOOD#and they're so basic in melody and structure!#i by no means vehemently recommend this opera to anyone because it's long and kinda repetitive#but MY GOD#i was in a production of this so i noticed a lot of little things#and every time i analyse it it gets better#i'm gonna build Nicola Hay a shrine (Händel can have a little smth too but my brainrot is for the libretto mostly)#not writing#operablr#opera tag#georg friedrich händel#giulio cesare in egitto#giulio cesare#ramblies#opera analysis#the brainrot(tm)
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❪ a kiss on the forehead of one who is starting to fall asleep ❫
𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓
A quiet place, a chair, and a half-open book across his lap.
Two thousand years aged and Rafal always fell asleep in the same way. Like this, fluttering eyelids incriminated a silent war waged with himself. A smooth white head bobbed with the futile efforts to stay vertical- the lowering of chin onto clavicle followed by a startled-awake rise back to upright position, then descending again onto clavicle, like a drawbridge manned back and forth to indecisive effect. All of it deemed a cycle of seasons as he fought to remain conscious; broken only when someone broke that cycle for him.
First, however, came the space in-between. Incoherent and shapeless sounds like a baby's babbling whistled out from between his lips. Something of Nel or Nil or the Divine One muttered beneath his breath- the sole certainty lied in that those names didn't include Father anymore since the shattering of a dragonstone. Then he twitched, focused even murkily on the gust of wind that caressed the space between his furrowed brows. A gentle pressure and sensation like someone had rested the pad of their finger there- or a kiss.
—something of Nel, something of Nil, something of the Divine One.
But it was Nel, he determined ultimately, as he cracked his bleary eyes to the sight that sat behind a feeling, with a sleepy quirk to his mouth that expressed he was happy to see her, even when he was still closer to dreaming than awake. Even though it could have been a dream regardless because Nel was always there.
His twin and his other half never apart; everywhere, with the steady weight of her stare and her fair face framed in choppy black strands; everywhere, with the cool-warm expression that seemed only warm to Rafal always. Her calming scent like the earthy smell of a leather satchel interwoven with air, ozone, and pink lightning—
"Sister," he recognized through any fog, smiling faintly. Breathing her in deeply. A quiet place, a chair, and a half-open book across his lap. All those things forgotten.
#◜ ₊ — 𝓡 ˚ ₊ 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ╱ askbox.#nelithic#engage spoilers#hello sweet sister (soft smile)#vague setting bcs something something beauty of interpretation.. could be the somniel or lythos or could be garreg mach#not something i can articulate at 3am but nel and rafal while loving have this underlying sense of heartache to them#likely expected of two twins who have gone through That Much
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