The freak-off of the century

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@xxomiplush
The freak-off of the century
what’s interesting about this new blue lock chapter (ch. 349) is that it shows us how a few of the blue lockers act after arguments/conflicts.
𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢, before all else, blames himself. even if he clearly is not the one at fault, or even if his level of guilt in the situation is not be high in the least. he only sees what he has done wrong, and fully puts himself responsible. he apologizes for the smallest of things, even ones of out his control, just hoping that he would be forgiven. the entire match, he was being marked by hugo—the mvp of the match and arguably the best ng11 we’ve seen—yet still blamed himself for a bad performance when he was in the locker room.
𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐮 is impossibly rational, perceptive, which solves the issue quickly. after the situation, he observes reactions first before deciding on what is a good time to talk about what went wrong. he talks about the issue, lets others talk about the issue, and they both reach a compromise. issues should be solved, not lingered upon. he doesn’t point fingers, only address problems. in the locker room, he never put the blame on anyone, only acknowledging that ego’s philosophy is not working anymore rather than dwelling on their loss.
𝐫𝐢𝐧 doesn’t acknowledge his faults. nor does he try to find a solution to the problem. he waits for others to make the first move. he’s too prideful to admit he’s wrong, even when he knows that he was the one at fault. he takes breaks, wallowing in his own emotions regardless of how much he needs to find a solution—because rin is just so emotionally unstable and so irrational. when shidou called him out for selling that goal, rin knew that shidou was talking to him and that he lost. yet still, rin just fought and fought and didn’t apologize.
I really love Sae's design, just can't stop drawing him. His flow state kinda reminded me of the Matrix and its aesthetic
Some angst
thinking back, the way passed out isg's face was depicted in what most probably was kis' pov—that man is genuinely fucked you know.
what do you mean you—a guy—who just got your stagnating world view in regards to your control and power shaken, gazes at your supposed stepping stone—another guy, who exceeded your expectations and starts ransacking your world the way you challenged him to—and see him like this:
mind u we've never seen isg's lashes in such detail. mind u we were the audience who had been in isg's head since chap 1. and this german man who debuted like 50 something chap ago already started doing this bullshit.
Blue Lock babbling.
Ever since I've slowly started getting more and more involved in the world of real-life football, I've become increasingly aware of just how volatile and fast-paced the pro-world is. It's not like I didn't know that before; every sporting field is extremely competitive after all! However, I mean how fleeting a player's "era" can be; in just a few years, with the advancement of football in general and new prospects entering the scene, a player can become "obsolete" as a whole.
The world of football is constantly evolving and doesn't stop for any player; on top of that, it's a sport with a fairly high risk of injury. Countries that once had a formidable team/were a football powerhouse, over the years fall behind as they are unable to keep up.
Football as a sport is so volatile that a new star can cause a revolution in the way football is played, but at the same time, that leaves the veterans incompatible with the new style.Most players retire around 36-40, sports careers are often this short due to physical exhaustion; many times the body simply can no longer continue no matter how hard it tries. Even so, it makes me think that it's a rather short metric, what's next after knowing your retirement is imminent so soon?
Matter of fact, Fillipo Inzaghi (the player who inspired the construction of Isagi) retired at 38. Inzaghi's career spanned the late 90s and early 2000s when defensive play was the standard and at its peak, very different from today's football, which focuses more on dynamism and less on specialization. A player like him would rarely work in a team with a modern formation/style of play. (Before his career really took off, Inzaghi spend a season at Parma; he had a very tough one because the team's style of play wasn't very compatible with him. It was when he moved to Atalanta that he was really able to take off and show his potential.)
Inzaghi did become a coach later, though.
It made me think of Noel Noa. Noa is already in his 30s (31), if we go by the average retirement age, he would have between 6 and 8 years left as an active player. I wonder if his insistence on creating a rival for himself and becoming stronger is due to that. But Noa, with "loneliness" as a central theme in his character, is curious; without challenges, his hunger is never satisfied, yet he's also racing against time, he only has so much time left to experiment football as he likes it. I also suppose there's a feeling of emptiness after winning the World Cup, if that's supposed to be the ultimate goal, I mean. Because what comes after you reach the top and achieve your goal? Do you just go on with your life as if nothing happened? Do you look for another goal? Do you enjoy the rest of your career?
Much like Isagi, Noa is only fueled by restriction; challenge after challenge is what keeps him going. Just like Isagi, Noa has a strange relationship with others' social perceptions of him and social standards. And also, just like Isagi, he has dehumanized himself in order to enjoy his personal football and move on.
It is said that the best in the world is at the top alone, and as ideal as that sounds, I think it is very sad. Is it loneliness that fuels a hunger that is only satiated with strength and improvement? And what happens once you've reached your limit? If you live to become stronger, what happens when you can no longer play at all? What happens if your body stops but your hunger doesn't? Isn't that really sad?
I suppose if you love football enough, being a coach is never out of the question and is ideal. But racing against time is truly terrifying when you love what you do, isn't it? I also think about how Isagi will feel if he ever manages to complete his goal; I wonder if it will be enough to satisfy him.
Hugo: kyaaaaa class was SO boring without my N1!!! 😭😭🥺🥺☹️😣🥺☹️😭 (most monotone voice ever)
Loki: how are you saying the emojis out loud
Thank you for loving the "imperfect" version of me
2k followers event, request no. 10: When a simple paparazzi interview turns the internet against you, Rin Itoshi shocks the entire world by publicly revealing just how deeply he loves you.
The day starts quietly.
Morning sunlight spills across the dashboard of Rin's car as he drives you to campus, one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel while the other remains loosely intertwined with yours. The city is still waking up outside the windows, people rushing toward trains and convenience stores but inside the car everything feels slow, warm and half-asleep.
Rin looks exhausted.
Not physically— not the kind exhaustion training gives him but the softer kind that comes from staying awake too long beside someone you love.
You notice the faint shadows beneath his eyes and smile knowingly.
"You didn't sleep again, did you?"
Rin's grip tightens around your fingers almost defensively. "I slept."
"You watched me sleep."
"...For a little."
You laugh softly under your breath, already knowing the truth. He had probably spent half the night staring at your face instead of watching game analysis videos like he was supposed to.
Rin has always been terrifyingly intense about the things he loves. And unfortunately for him, you are at the center of all of it.
When he finally pulls up in front of your campus gate, students are already flooding through the entrance in groups, chatting loudly and dragging bags behind them. Rin glances toward them with visible irritation before looking back at you.
His expression softens instantly, it always does for you.
You lean over the center console and kiss him quickly, gentle and warm. His hand comes up immediately to hold your jaw for one extra second after you pull away, like he already misses you.
"Text me when your classes end," he murmurs.
"Will do."
You smile before stepping out of the car, waving once before disappearing through the campus gates.
Rin watches until you are completely gone from sight, only then does he drive away.
But what either of you don't know is that, by noon your face will be everywhere.
And it happens before you can even process it.
You leave the bookstore carrying an iced tea in your other hand while trying to decide whether you should call Rin or surprise him later.
Then you hear camera shutters.
Your steps falter immediately.
At first you think maybe there's a celebrity nearby— an actor, a singer, someone important.Then voices begin shouting your name.
"Miss! Over here!"
"Are you Itoshi Rin's girlfriend?"
Good morning!! I've had this thought for a while now...
HELLO,I was wondering if you could do blue lock with a super clingy and loving gf,like she always want to bug them kiss them! (include hugo and charles PLS)
𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘆 & 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘆 - 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀
⤷ 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀.ᐟ ˎˊ˗ you're love being super clingy towards the boys, always touching them and showing your affection and love towards them! always smooching them and hugging them. how would they react to this?
⤷ 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴.ᐟ ˎˊ˗ ego jinpachi ৴ michael kaiser ৴ sae itoshi ৴ isagi yoichi ৴ rin itoshi ৴ bachira meguru ৴ nagi seishiro ৴ shidou ryusei ৴ chigiri hyoma ৴ don lorenzo ৴ aoshi tokimitsu ৴ mikage reo ৴ bunny iglesias ৴ hugo ৴ charles chevalier
𑣲 EGO JINPACHI
ego wouldn't mind if you were clingy, he would let you be.
from the very beginning, he never stopped you when you leaned into him. when you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, cheek pressed softly against his back, he would pause for just a second—then continue what he was doing. no complaints. no pushing you away. he accepted it like it was something natural, something expected.
you were always touching him in small, loving ways. fingers tugging lightly at his sleeve.
hands resting on his chest. gentle hugs that came out of nowhere just because you wanted to be close. you liked kissing his cheek, his jaw, the corner of his lips like soft kisses that asked for nothing but gave everything.
“you’re very attached.” ego would say calmly.
yet his hand would still come up, resting on your back, keeping you there.
when he worked, you followed without thinking. you’d sit beside him at first, then slowly lean in until your head rested on his shoulder. sometimes you’d climb into his lap, arms around his neck, relaxed like that was exactly where you belonged.
“…this is distracting.” he’d say flatly.
but he never moved you.
instead, he adjusted himself so you were comfortable. one arm wrapped around your waist, firm and steady, holding you close on purpose. when you shifted like you might move away, his grip tightened just a little.
“…stay” he said quietly.
you loved hugging him for a long time. tight hugs. warm hugs. the kind where you pressed yourself against him like you didn’t want to let go. you’d mumble soft things into his shoulder, telling him you liked him, that you missed him even if you’d seen him earlier.
on days when you were extra loving, following him around, holding onto his arm everywhere, kissing him whenever you passed, he noticed. he noticed the warmth. the weight of you against him.
one night, you hugged him from the front, face buried in his chest, arms tight like you never wanted to move.
“…you’re comfortable here?” he said quietly.
“yeah..” you whispered. “i like being with you.”
his hand rested on the back of your head, fingers sliding gently through your hair. “…do whatever you want.”
𑣲 MICHAEL KAISER
michael loves when you're clingy. and sometimes he would be desperate if you arent clingy enough.
whenever you come to see his games, when it ends he expects you to run to him, kissing him and hugging him.
when the moment comes, the final whistle blows, and the noise of the crowd fades in his head. cheers, cameras, teammates calling his name it all becomes distant.
michael’s eyes immediately search the stands, focused and intent, looking only for you, his heart still racing even after the match is over.
when he spots you, standing there with that familiar smile, his shoulders ease without him realizing it.
he waits. one second. two.
if you don’t run to him right away, his brows draw together, irritation mixing with something uneasy. "why aren’t you coming yet?" he wipes the sweat from his face, pretending he doesn’t care, but his gaze stays locked on you the entire time.
the moment you finally rush toward him, everything settles.
your arms wrap around him, tight and warm, and michael lets out a laugh, hands gripping your waist like he needs to feel you there. he presses quick kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips— happy kisses that come from pure relief.
“there you are..” he murmurs softly.
your fingers clutch his jersey, wrinkling the fabric, and he loves it. loves the proof that you want him close, that you’re not pulling away.
after that, you’re always attached to him. walking beside him with your arm looped through his. leaning into his chest while he talks. sitting on his lap whenever you get the chance, like it’s the most natural place for you. michael doesn’t hide it—he stands a little taller, proud.
“yeah,” he says with a grin, “that’s mine.”
when you’re extra affectionate, he gets playful. he pulls you closer by the waist, tilts your chin up just to kiss you again, smiling when you cling tighter. “don’t stop..” he says. “i like this.”
but on days when you’re quieter—when your hugs are shorter, when you stand a little farther away—michael notices immediately.
his smile falters just a bit.
“…did i mess up?” he asks, voice lower than usual.
even if you reassure him, he watches you closely. the second you hug him again, pressing yourself into his chest, his arms come around you fast, firm, certain.
“good,” he mutters, resting his chin on your head. “i need that.”
𑣲 SAE ITOSHI
sae acts like he doesn't care, but deep down he gets flustered and it's cute to see.
he keeps his expression calm straight face when you cling to him.
when you slip your hand into his or lean your weight against his shoulder, he barely reacts. just a brief glance in your direction, as if reminding himself to stay composed.
but you notice everything.
the faint pink at the tips of his ears when you hug him from behind. the way his body stiffens for a moment before easing into you. how his voice drops lower when you press a kiss to his cheek without warning.
“you’re being excessive..”
yet he never pulls away.
that evening, when he comes home from practice, exhausted and sweaty, you’re already waiting at the door. the second he steps in, you rush to him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist, face pressed against his chest, pressing little kisses along his shoulder and neck.
sae freezes for a heartbeat, taken off guard, before his hands come up to rest gently on your back, steadying you.
“you’re clingy.”
he mutters it quietly, like he’s half-scolding you but also half admitting how much he likes it.
you don’t let him go, though. your fingers thread through the hair at the back of his neck, tugging him slightly closer.
he exhales, soft and low, and tilts his head down, resting lightly against yours.
he doesn’t say it, but you can feel it—the warmth in his chest, the way his body relaxes into yours the longer you hold him. he sometimes tightens his arms around you, almost unconsciously, making sure you’re as close as possible.
when you pull back just a little, he immediately leans in, nudging you back, eyes softened, voice low.
“don’t pull away..”
you giggle, burying yourself against him again, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. he’s still calm on the surface, still collected, but the subtle flush on his cheeks, the slight tremble in his fingers, shows how much he’s affected by your affection.
on days when you’re quieter, when you let him get a head start before hugging him, he notices instantly. he doesn’t complain.
he doesn’t rush you. but he stays closer, brushes his fingers along yours, tilts his head to watch you, making sure you’re still here, still yours.
every kiss, every hug, every time you press yourself against him at home—it melts him more than he would ever admit.
𑣲 ISAGI YOICHI
isagi loves when you're clingy, it shows how much you really love him. and each time you do end up being clingy, he ends up being a lover boy. he also ends up yearning for your clinginess.
from the moment you wrap your arms around him, he melts. your warmth, your scent, the way your fingers press lightly into his shirt—it all makes his chest tighten in a way he can’t control.
he’ll bury his face in your hair, breathing you in, letting his hands roam over your back and sides, memorizing the way you fit against him.
when you hug him from behind, his heart races. he can feel your cheek pressing into his shoulder, your arms squeezing him like you don’t want to let go.
he presses back without thinking, tightening his grip on your waist, rocking you gently like it’s instinct. your warmth fills him, and he lets himself sink into it completely.
if you kiss him softly, he forgets everything else.
he leans into you, tilts his head, returns every kiss with just as much care, murmuring soft things against your lips and words meant only for you, words that make your heart race. every touch from you sparks a need to touch back, to hold you closer, to never let go.
when you’re clingy after a long day, waiting for him as he walks through the door, exhausted from practice, he can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face.
he’s barely able to take off his shoes before you’re in his arms, wrapping yourself around him, head resting against his chest.
he lets out a long sigh, feeling at home in your embrace, running his hands over your back as if to remind himself that you’re real.
on days when you’re extra affectionate, he becomes almost desperate for more. he nudges you closer, presses kisses along your shoulders, your neck, your forehead, murmuring low, soft praises, words that make you melt, words that tell you he’s yours completely.
he brushes your hair back from your face just to look at you, memorizing every detail.
and when you’re not clingy enough, he notices immediately. his eyes follow you, tracking every step.
his hands twitch as if he wants to pull you in. he leans toward you in small, unconscious ways, subtly letting you know he needs to feel your closeness.
“don’t stop..”
he whispers it sometimes, just barely audible, voice soft but full of need, eyes searching yours like he’s asking you to stay pressed against him forever.
𑣲 RIN ITOSHI
rin acts like he doesn't mind, but deep down he loves when you're clingy. especially when he finishes a match and you praise him with love and clinginess, he sometimes ends up blushing.
after the final whistle blows, rin’s chest is still pounding from the game, sweat running down his neck, muscles sore, and he barely notices anything else—until he sees you waiting for him.
your eyes light up when you spot him, your arms already reaching for him, and suddenly everything else fades.
when you rush toward him, he stiffens for a moment, caught off guard by how quickly your warmth wraps around him.
your arms circle his neck, pressing his face into your shoulder, soft kisses peppering his jaw and temple, and he feels that familiar pull in his chest. his hands hover for a second before settling on your waist, steadying you, grounding himself in the reality of you being right there.
“you’re… here..”
he mutters quietly, voice low and a little rough, almost shy, because he knows he likes it more than he’s willing to admit.
your fingers trail over his shoulders, down his arms, gripping lightly as if you never want to let go.
every tiny touch sends heat rushing through him, making him aware of how much he wants to return the affection. he leans into you, tilting his head, pressing his lips briefly to yours, soft and careful at first, but each kiss grows bolder as he relaxes.
after practice, when he’s sweaty and tired, you never hesitate to cling to him.
your face buries into his chest, arms squeezing him like you’re drawing him closer, your warmth wrapping around him, and rin’s fingers dig lightly into your back, almost unconsciously. the blush creeps onto his cheeks, spreading as he realizes just how good it feels to be held like this.
even when you whisper praise in his ear, telling him how proud you are, how much you love watching him play, rin’s throat tightens.
"you did good rin! i am so proud of you, you were so cute playing!"
he wants to tell you to stop, but he can’t—not because he’s annoyed, but because the affection overwhelms him in the best way.
he presses one hand to your cheek, tilting your head so he can kiss you properly, slow and lingering, murmuring soft things you can’t quite hear but that make his chest feel full.
on days when you’re quieter, when your hugs are shorter or less frequent, he notices instantly.
he’ll find little ways to pull you closer without saying anything, just a hand brushing your waist, a shoulder nudging yours, soft touches that remind you—and him of the closeness he craves.
“stay like this..”
he murmurs sometimes, barely audible, pressing his forehead to yours, eyes soft but intense, a blush still lingering on his face.
𑣲 BACHIRA MEGURU
oh boy… don’t even get me started with bachira. he loves and craves your attention and clinginess towards you. during his day off that blue lock allowed him to have, he spends it with you.
from the moment he wakes up, he’s already looking for you. even if you’re still sleepy in bed, he crawls closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing his cheek to yours, nuzzling lightly as if he’s claiming his favorite spot.
he grins mischievously when you groan and roll over, your hands clutching his shirt unconsciously.
“hey!!… don’t ignore me”
he mutters with mock annoyance, but his eyes are bright, almost pleading, because he needs to feel you close.
throughout the day, every little movement you make is an invitation for him to cling. when you reach for the water bottle, he’s behind you, arms slipping around your waist, head resting on your shoulder.
when you try to sit at the table alone, he’s immediately by your side, leaning into you, pressing light kisses along your temple and jaw as he whispers something silly just to make you laugh.
“you can’t escape me!!”
he grins, but his tone is soft underneath, almost vulnerable. he loves being near you. craves it. he’s desperate for the warmth of your body pressed against his, the feel of your hands on his chest or shoulders, the tiny kisses you leave along his face.
when you sit down on the couch, he immediately pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you, fingers digging just a little into your sides as he buries his face in your neck.
he hums contentedly, closing his eyes, letting your clinginess fill him up in a way nothing else ever could.
“don’t move… stay here!”
he whispers, voice low and teasing, but every word drips with longing. he wants you close, wants to feel every second of your attention and love directed at him.
if you try to get up or walk away, he’s immediately there, grabbing your hand, pulling you back down into his arms. he leans his forehead against yours, eyes sparkling, a grin tugging at his lips.
“i’m not sharing you with anyone else!!!”
𑣲 NAGI SEISHIRO
nagi would definitely feel like your kisses and hugs motivate him.
he’s sometimes a lazy person, always sprawled on the couch with his phone in hand, fingers swiping through games or scrolling endlessly. but the moment you tease him—tell him no hugs or kisses if he doesn’t go to practice—his entire posture changes.
"nagi! you have practice again. you have to go, you can't skip again.. no hugs or kisses for a week if you don't go to practice!"
suddenly, that lazy expression fades, replaced with focus, determination, almost like your words are a challenge he has to beat. he feels like your affection is a prize, and missing it? a threat he can’t ignore.
when he finally drags himself to practice, he moves faster than usual, not because he’s excited about drills, but because he wants that warmth back.
and the second he comes home, tired and sweaty, he’s already scanning for you. the moment your arms wrap around him, pressing him into a tight hug, he melts immediately, letting out a low, content sigh.
your lips brushing against his cheek or jaw make him stiff for half a second before he relaxes completely, tilting his head to return your affection.
“you’re not letting me off easy, huh..”
he mutters, voice rough but playful, still holding onto you as if afraid you might vanish.
your fingers trace lightly over his shoulders and down his back, and he presses closer instinctively, nuzzling his forehead into yours. he loves the feel of your hands, the weight of your arms, the way you cling like you’re claiming him just as much as he’s claiming you.
if you pull back even slightly, nagi immediately leans into you again, adjusting so your bodies are pressed tighter, whispering,
“don’t stop.”
he almost growls it softly, because he can’t help it—he’s addicted to your warmth, to your closeness.
on lazy days when he tries to sneak in extra phone time, he notices you watching him, the pout on your lips or the way your arms fold in mock disappointment.
that alone makes him drop everything, rushing to wrap his arms around you, burying his face into your neck as he murmurs,
“okay, okay… you win!”
he may act lazy, disinterested, distracted most of the time, but with your clinginess? it turns him into a desperate need for your affection, leaning into every hug, craving every kiss, and sometimes even just staring at you while you cling like he can’t get enough.
𑣲 SHIDOU RYUSEI
shidou would heavily be cocky and show off to everyone how much you love him.
the moment you cling to him in public, he can’t help but smirk. when you wrap your arms around his waist or press your cheek to his shoulder, he leans into you just enough so everyone can see you’re his.
he loves the way you press yourself against him, how your fingers curl into his shirt, holding him like he’s yours completely. each kiss you plant on his cheek or jaw makes his smirk grow, sharp and teasing, as if daring anyone to think they can compete with him.
“yeah, that’s my girl.”
he says it loud, pride dripping from every word, eyes scanning the room to make sure everyone sees.
he pulls you closer without thinking, hand at the small of your back, fingers pressing gently, holding you in place like a trophy he refuses to let anyone touch.
after practice or training, when he’s sweaty and breathing heavy, you run to him, arms wrapping tight around his neck, and he laughs, loud and playful, pressing quick kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw. he tilts his head, letting you nuzzle against him, murmuring,
“don’t stop, you belong to me.”
your warmth drives him wild, the clinginess he usually teases you for suddenly feeding a deeper, more desperate need in him. he can’t stop holding you, can’t stop pressing little touches along your arms, your back, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.
even when you try to pull away, he doesn’t let go. his hand slides to your waist, his thumb brushing over your skin, and he leans down to whisper in your ear,
“you think anyone else could have you? wrong”
sometimes he’s cocky for show, teasing and dramatic in front of others. but when it’s just the two of you, he melts slightly, softening against you, pressing his forehead to yours, still holding you close.
and then there are the games. the matches against rival teams—where he's aggressive.
when one of the opposing players smirks and mentions you, calling you theirs or even jokingly teasing about “his girl,” shidou’s snaps.
the grin vanishes, replaced with sharp eyes and clenched fists. his muscles tighten, his movements becoming sharper, faster, almost violent. every pass, every tackle, every shot becomes more forceful, more reckless.
he yells on the field, not just at the ball, not just at the game, but at anyone near him, throwing himself into every play.
his teammates see, try to hold him back, or even tell him to calm down, but it doesn't work. he only sees the offense against you, his possessiveness is into every strike and sprint.
after the match, whether he wins or loses, he storms straight to you, grabbing your hand, pulling you into a fierce hug, pressing his forehead to yours, teeth clenched as he mutters,
“don’t let anyone say that about you again..”
and when he finally calms down, he rests his hands on your shoulders, brushing a stray hair from your face, still breathing hard, but softening, letting the clinginess you offer wash over him.
𑣲 CHIRGIRI HYOMA
chigiri is really grateful for your love, especially your support and encouragement of his achievement of becoming the best striker in the world by overcoming his fear of reinjuring his leg and embracing it.
he still remembers the days after his ACL tore. the confidence that had carried him through every drill and every game, was easily destroyed.
the boys who had once respected him started mocking him, teasing him for his injury.
he became afraid—afraid of stepping onto the field, afraid of losing what made him who he was.
soccer that was once his passion, became anxiety. he felt trapped in a shadow of himself, and when the invitation to blue lock came, he almost accepted it as an excuse to quit, to surrender instead of accepting it, searching for a reason to give up rather than continue chasing his dream.
and then there was you.
you never let him down. you saw his fear, his doubt, but you never judged. instead, you praised him for the smallest victories—the first time he jogged without pain, the first controlled kick, the first time he laughed at himself instead of cowering from failure.
your words were steady, warm, and full of faith in him.
“you’ve still got this chigiri!! i believe in you!” you’d say, eyes bright, voice soft but firm, “don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. this is who you are. you’re not done yet!”
and slowly, he started believing it again. slowly, your encouragement became the key that allowed him to face his fears.
he began to reclaim his ego, his ambition, his stubborn persistence. every time you hugged him, kissed him, told him he was capable, he felt the confidence he feared lost start to return.
he embraced the pain, the challenge, the fear of failing.
now, after all of that, he’s a different force on the field. he pushes himself harder, faster, sharper, because he knows he can, because he must, because your faith in him will always be there to catch him if he fails.
when he sees you after a match, running into his arms, clinging to him, praising him like he deserves, he melts completely.
“you did amazing!!” you whisper, brushing sweat and hair from his face, eyes shining with joy, “i knew you could do it. you didn’t let your fear control you!!”
he presses his forehead to yours, breath heavy, heart pounding, hands gripping your waist like he can’t get close enough.
“i… couldn’t have done it without you”
𑣲 DON LORENZO
lorenzo also loves when you're clingy and loving towards him. he didn’t have a good childhood—abandoned as a child, left to survive however he could.
he learned to steal, to hide, to trust no one. it was a hard life, rough and cold, until snuffy found him, offered to pay for his golden teeth since he didn't have good teeth at that time. and ended up transforming his life.
and you?… you loved his golden grill. you would tease him, press your fingers gently against each tooth when you kissed him, your lips brushing along the gold.
his eyes would flicker with amusement, and something softer, something he never learned to show before you came along.
he melts when you cling to him, whether it’s at home or in private. when you wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head against his chest, he holds you close without hesitation.
your hands tracing along his jaw, over the golden teeth, make him laugh quietly, a low rumble in his chest, the kind of sound reserved only for you.
“you like this, huh?”
he mutters, voice rough but soft, leaning down to press a slow, teasing kiss to your forehead before brushing your hair back with care.
our fingers clutching his shirt, your closeness, it all reminds him that he’s loved, that he’s seen, that he’s finally safe.
when he comes home after a long day, tired and tense, you’re already waiting.
you rush to him, arms sliding around his waist, hands pressing into his back, and he sighs deeply, burying his face in your hair.
your kisses along his jaw and lips relax him more than he ever thought possible. the golden grill glints in the light as he smiles down at you, a little softer than usual.
“don’t ever stop..” he murmurs, voice low. because he’s not used to this kind of closeness, this kind of love, and it scares him just enough that he wants to hold onto it tighter.
even when he’s playful or cocky in front of others, your clinginess tethers him. he leans into you during quiet moments, presses little kisses to your hands, your cheeks, your lips, savoring every bit of attention and love you offer.
𑣲 AOSHI TOKIMITSU
aoshi gets really nervous and shy and very timid when you show him affection, he isn’t used to this much love. but he never complains about it.
the moment your hand brushes against his, his chest tightens slightly, and his fingers stiffen before he slowly intertwines them with yours.
he avoids your eyes for a second, just long enough to hide the blush creeping across his cheeks, but the small smile that follows betrays how much he loves it.
he struggles with a lack of self-confidence, especially on the field.
even after training, when he’s supposed to take the shot or lead an attack, twisting his stomach into knots. his hands shake slightly on the ball, his legs feel heavier than usual, and his mind keeps replaying every mistake he’s ever made.
the anxiety is almost suffocating at times, and it makes him pause, freeze, and second-guess himself when the pressure is on.
but then there’s you.
your presence, your voice, your faith in him—it grounds him.
every time you reach out, your hand brushing against his, your warm smile, your soft, encouraging words, he feels the tension ease just a little.
“you can do this!” you whisper, fingers gently squeezing his shoulder, “i know you can score. i’ve seen you do it a thousand times..”
and slowly, it works. when he’s in a position to score a goal, that anxiety fades just enough for his instincts to take over. the ball at his feet feels lighter, the world narrows to just him and the net, and he moves almost without thinking.
and after the goal, when he looks to you and sees your bright, proud expression, the nervous tension drains completely, replaced with a warm sense of relief.
“that was amazing, aoshi! i knew you could do it. you were incredible out there!”
your praise fills him, makes him blush, makes him feel seen for who he truly is—not just a player, not just a perfectionist, but him, struggling and fighting and winning despite the fear.
he leans into your touch, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes softening, hands clutching yours tightly.
when he comes home from training or a match, still a little shaken from the moments of doubt, you’re already waiting. you rush into his arms, pressing yourself close, hands tracing along his back and shoulders, kisses pressed to his jaw, his temple, wherever you can reach.
“you were amazing today..” you murmur, holding him tighter. “every move, every step—you were perfect. i’m so proud of you!”
he lets out a shaky sigh, clutching you as tightly as he can. “i… i couldn’t have done it without you” he whispers, voice low, trembling.
𑣲 REO MIKAGE
reo would be really happy that you're clingy towards him; matter of fact, he’d crave it each day.
when you reach for him, wrap your arms around his neck, or press yourself against his chest, a small smile spreads across his face.
he leans into your touch quickly, and the way your fingers curl into his shirt makes his chest tighten in the best possible way.
when you press soft kisses along his jaw or collarbone, he can’t help but hum quietly, a low, pleased sound that betrays how much he enjoys it. he often tilts his head down to look at you, watching your expression, memorizing the little quirks in the way you smile or laugh when you cling to him.
he loves the intimacy of these small moments, how natural it feels to have you wrapped around him, needing him, wanting him close.
after a long day of practice or games, when he comes home exhausted, he almost always finds you waiting.
the moment he steps inside, your arms are already around him, pressing him into a tight hug, your head tucked against his chest.
reo stiffens slightly at first, unsure how to respond after a hard day, but the softness of your touch, the heat of your body against his, draws a sigh from him that he can’t suppress.
he presses back carefully, hands at your waist, feeling the steady beat of your heartbeat against him, letting the comfort of your presence fill the emptiness of fatigue.
“you’re… too good to me”
he murmurs softly, voice low and slightly shy, yet every word is full of appreciation. even though he might act calm or collected in public, behind closed doors, your clinginess makes him feel cherished and seen in a way he rarely allows himself to feel.
on days when your affection isn't much as it use to be, he becomes a little greedy for more.
he presses his hands against your back, pulling you flush against him, resting his chin on your shoulder, murmuring little praises or gentle reassurances in return.
he loves the way you cling, the way you nuzzle against him, the subtle sounds you make when you kiss his neck or cheek—it all feeds a part of him that craves connection and reassurance.
even if you step back or hesitate, reo immediately leans closer, nudging your body against his, silently asking for your closeness. his eyes soften, and he murmurs quietly,
“stay with me a little longer”
reo melts entirely, holding you with a careful, lingering grip that says he never wants to let you go.
𑣲 BUNNY IGLESIAS
bunny would also give you the same treatment, with the smooching and hugs you give him. he doesn’t mind at all. in fact, he loves every second of it.
your hands on his shoulders, your arms wrapping around his neck, your little kisses along his jaw and cheek—they make him melt in ways he can’t hide.
especially when you kiss the big scar on his right cheek. he always tilts his head slightly, a small grin tugging at his lips, and hums low, letting you know he loves the attention.
when you trace your fingers over the scar while pressing your lips to it, he shivers just slightly, a mix of pleasure and amusement running through him.
“don’t… stop,” he mutters softly, voice rough yet affectionate, leaning into your touch. he’s not embarrassed by the scar at all, not with you.
your affection makes him feel seen, whole, and loved.
after a long day, when he comes home tired and sweaty, he’s almost always greeted by you.
when you're in his arms or hug him tightly, he laughs, a deep, warm sound that rumbles in his chest, and returns the embrace just as firmly.
his large hands cup your face, stroke your hair, or press against your back as if memorizing every inch of you while letting you hold him close.
he loves when you pepper little kisses along his jaw, the curve of his ear, and even along the scar. each one makes his chest swell, a little flutter running through him, and sometimes he can’t stop himself from teasing you lightly between kisses.
“i think you like my scar more than me” he jokes, but his voice carries but you know he means it playfully.
if you hug him, he hugs back just as tightly, sometimes pressing his cheek to yours, nuzzling, or wrapping his arms around you in a protective.
he hums low, a sound that always makes you smile, letting you know he’s enjoying every second of your closeness. when you pull back even a little, he gently tugs you closer, resting his forehead against yours, voice soft and teasing.
“don’t drift away from me..”
𑣲 HUGO
hugo acts like he doesn’t really care, but he also cares. as long as you’re there with him, he doesn’t care about the others or what’s going on around him.
when you lay next to him, he likes wrapping his huge thighs around your waist, holding you gently but firmly, making sure you can’t leave his side while cuddling.
the weight of him, and warmth makes you feel safe, and he notices how your body relaxes against his. it makes him smile quietly, the corners of his lips tugging up.
when you nuzzle your head against his chest, his arms tighten around you instinctively.
he presses a kiss to the top of your head, low and soft, almost a whisper. “don’t go anywhere,” he murmurs, voice rough but tender, as if the words are for himself just as much as for you. every gentle squeeze, every soft brush of his hand along your back tells you he’s fully present.
your hands tracing along his shoulders and chest make him hum in quiet contentment. he leans back slightly, letting you rest against him completely, feeling your warmth seep into him.
even the smallest gestures—a kiss on his cheek, your fingers brushing over his arm—send a subtle shiver through him, reminding him how much he needs you close.
after long days, when he’s tired from training or just life in general, he almost expects you to be there, waiting for him. the moment you run into his arms or curl up beside him, he smiles, genuine and unguarded, and pulls you closer with his thighs still keeping you in place.
your warmth, your heartbeat against his, your soft murmurs of love and comfort—everything about your presence calms him, quiets the tension he carries all day.
sometimes he pretends not to notice, acting distant or distracted, but the second you slip your hand into his or press your forehead to his chest, he freezes for a heartbeat, then tightens his hold like he’s afraid you might vanish.
“stay here..” he whispers, almost growling, but the roughness in his voice is mixed with softness, a clear sign of how much he cherishes your closeness.
hugo loves when you cling to him, when you show your affection freely.
it makes him affectionate in return—he’ll pepper kisses along your head, jaw, and shoulders, his hands roaming carefully over your back, making sure you feel as secure as he does.
he’ll hold a book in his hands, reading quietly, and he loves how you’ll nuzzle against him and plant soft kisses on his cheeks and jaw as he reads. and surprisingly, it doesn’t distract him.
even when he acts like he doesn’t care about anything else, your touch, your hugs, your closeness are the only things that truly matter.
𑣲 CHARLES CHEVALIER
charles is childish and disrespectful, but towards you and especially your love and affection? he never takes advantage of it.
the moment you approach him with a hug or a soft kiss, his usual smirk softens, and he lets himself melt just for you.
he might tease you lightly at first, but the second your hands touch his face or your arms wrap around his neck, his eyes soften, and he leans into your warmth without hesitation.
when you nuzzle against him or plant a kiss on his cheek, he closes his eyes for a heartbeat, savoring the small but gesture.
the way your fingers trace along his jaw or curl into his hair makes him shiver lightly, a reaction he rarely shows to anyone else. he loves that your affection is so genuine, because it makes him feel safe.
the second he sees you waiting, arms open, your smile bright, he grins genuinely, crouches slightly to let you cling to him, and wraps his own arms around you, holding you close.
your warmth presses against his chest, your heartbeat steady against his, and he inhales deeply, closing his eyes, letting himself feel entirely yours.
“don’t go anywhere.. okay?” he murmurs softly, voice low and almost shy, though the usual hint of mischief lingers.
every hug, every gentle squeeze, every soft kiss you place on him reassures him in ways words never could. he loves feeling your affection directed at him, and it makes his usual cocky, playful melt into something softer.
when you press closer, your arms around his waist or your lips against his jaw, he tilts his head down, pressing soft kisses along your forehead and cheeks in return.
he hums quietly, a low, content sound, letting you know he’s enjoying every second of your closeness. even when he teases or jokes, it’s always tempered by a tenderness reserved just for you.
and when you’re in his lap, cuddling, pressing gentle kisses along his face while he holds you close, he feels an unmatched peace.
he might pretend to be on his phone or play with something nearby, but his eyes constantly flick to you, and the small, soft smiles he gives you show how much he cares for these moments.
© valentinesxoxo | all rights reserved
loving bunny’s scars.
“mi coraźon..” bunny whispered in your ear, his grip tightened on your hips to pull your body flush to him. he blew a raspberry on your stomach and you began flailling around in a fit of laughter.
“b-bunny—stop!” you gasped in-between sweet giggles, your hands clawing at his scarred arms. you heard him wince once at that, low but still there. you paused, breath hitching. “sorry..” you apologized, burying your face in bunny’s toned pectorals.
“uh-uh, mi cariño.” bunny laughed, a rich sound. his movements gentle as he held you like he was trying not to hurt you, he wanted this to wear on, this delicate moment of peace in your otherwise chaotic day to day lives where you both could lose yourselves in eachother.
you smiled, your legs wrapping loosely around his waist. your fingers traced the lines of the multiple scars on his biceps, each one a gruesome ‘x’ staining his pale skin. but they weren’t blemishes, no, they were tiny pieces of his history scattered across his body which made up a beautiful tale about him.
bunny saw you giving attention to his scars and his hands stilled, he watched as your gentle fingertips swept over his marred skin. he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing low in his throat. “they look bad right?” bunny whispered, his voice tinged with melancholy.
your gaze drifted to him, brows furrowed at his foolish words. bad? they were the most beautiful part of him, amongst many others. “don’t say that, cabŕon.” you gently smacked his chest to which he pouted. your hands then came up to cup his face, your thumb now grazing over the scar on his face. similar to the ones littered over his body, but bunny seemed particularly sensitive about this one.
bunny exhaled sharply as you ran your soft fingers over his coarse skin, your touch felt like a balm to the never-ending ache inside of him. his plump, flushed lips parted but nothing came out. his eyes softened watching your reverent gaze travel all over his body, suddenly the numerous markings covering his being didn’t exist anymore. or they did but he didn’t care, they were nothing compared to you.
“mi chico perfecto,” you whispered lovingly to him, bunny smiled so warmly. gosh, you were going to be the end of him. he cupped your hand on his cheek and brought it to his lips to press a warm kiss to your palm. his eyes fluttering close to revel in the moment.
you gently rubbed his cheek with your thumb but paused when you felt a hot tear run down your fingers, paving their way down your arm. followed by another, and another. bunny was tearing up.
he had never in his life felt so loved, so appreciated and so wanted like he did now. when his gaze opened again, his crimson depths delved into yours and you were frozen. bunny then leaned forward, placing his forehead against yours before your lips met his in a poetic embrace.
“mi vida, mi todo.” he whispered against your lips. a prayer, a confession, a vow.
a/n: i had to make this after i saw bunny’s scars on his body i thought he only had one. on his face. his arms are also scarred. poor baby 😭
taglist: @rubylae, @rayzinhaasstuff
@reositos ★ don’t copy/modify/translate/repost to other sites or tumblr. also don’t feed my work to ai.
Lost in Translation
⋆⭒˚.⋆ Julien Loki ⋆⭒˚.⋆
⋆𐙚 ̊.⭒˚.⋆ Michael Kaiser ⋆⭒˚.⋆
˚.⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ Alexis Ness ⋆⭒˚.⋆
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆⭒˚. Sae Itoshi ⋆⭒˚.⋆
⋆𐙚 ̊.⭒˚.⋆ Oliver Aiku ⋆⭒˚.⋆
˚.⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ Don Lorenzo ⋆⭒˚.⋆
=====-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
•Masterlist•
[REQUESTS OPEN!!!]
hugo will surely meet you again, it’s fate !
your trip to france was in the middle of summer.
the hot june sun was beating down on your back, and your feet were dead from the tens of thousands of steps from that day. you were only two days in out of your three month long trip—if this was how it was going to be the entire time, you were truly going to die.
your eyes were glued to the tiles on the streets, not realizing you had bumped into someone until you felt a dull pain on your head. “oh shit—i’m so sorry.” you stammered, phone and earbud case falling out of your pockets.
you groaned, crouching down to reach for your dropped items, but someone handed them to you before you could even blink. you glanced up, meeting deep burgundy—nearly black—eyes. “thank you.” you met messy and long maroon hair and a deadpan expression.
“i’m in love with you.”
you nearly choked, blinking rapidly at the words that had just exited the redhead’s mouth. yet he still looked as if this was just another day in the office, expression unchanging. your entire face burned, eyes wide. passerby probably didn’t know you were going through every single chemical reaction possible internally.
“oh, uh, i, um, what?” you asked, mind malfunctioning. you were still crouching down awkwardly, as was the stranger. yes, the stranger. you had no idea who the hell this guy was, nor did you know his age or his name or anything about him.
you stood up stiffly, and the stranger did as well, wind blowing in his maroon hair perfectly. he looked like a model. “as i said, i’m in love with you.” his gaze was observant, quietly unraveling every feature of yours, every inch of your body. yet there was a tiny glimmer in his eye that told you this was more than just logic.
love at first sight, maybe? cute, but you weren’t interested. you were here for three months, and you were here to lock in (to eat all of the french pastries). plus, you had to go home anyway. you didn’t want heartbreak. “no thanks, i’m not interested, sorry.”
he raised an eyebrow. how the hell is this surprising to him? “oh, i see.” you almost let out a sigh of relief; maybe he’ll back off now. then you could forget this hot, tall, nice guy you met in france randomly.
“guess i’ll have to try harder to convince you then.”
excuse you?
your jaw went slack—how the hell were you supposed to respond to this? “no, genuinely, i don’t think you understand. i’m a tourist. i’m here for three months and i’m gone.” your french wasn’t perfect, but hopefully, you got the message across. “plus, i don’t know you. like, at all.”
at that point, a few passerby stopped to stare, noticing your discomfort. the stranger tilted his head. “i’m vivien hugo. i’m seventeen, a member of the french u20 football team, and i currently play for pxg’s u20 team, though i’ll be transferring to play for arsenal soon.”
so this guy was famous as well? and likely rich? the thought of going home was getting farther by the minute with hugo in front of you.
“and i’m also your future husband, so i suppose it is important for you to know me better.” goddamnit, did this guy have any friends growing up? you were already red in your cheeks, but at his comment, your entire face was probably redder than his hair.
“sure, buddy. whatever you say.” you retorted, furrowing your eyebrows. “nice to meet you hugo. you live around here or something?” you were practically the same age, but since he was a pro player, he probably had his own living quarters.
“i do. i’m guessing you stay at a hotel?” he asked. you nodded.
“i’m not telling you which one.”
“i wasn’t interested in knowing anyway. we’ll meet again even without conventionally necessary information.
this guy was pissing you off. “alright. see you then, hugo.” paris was a city with far too many people for you both to meet again. that’d be ridiculous. with that, you turned your back on him and walked away.
of course, you just had to be wrong.
because when you left your hotel just two days later, your head ended up making impact with yet someone yet again. your earbud case and phone ended up falling out of your pockets again.
“i’m so sor—wait,” your eyes widened, mouth opening wide. “hugo?!” no way. there was absolutely no way such a coincidence could ever exist. and yet you were met with his familiar burgundy hair.
“oh, you’re staying at this hotel. my apartment complex is actually right next to it.” he pointed at the building next door, which you hadn’t even realized was an apartment complex until he said so. no fucking way.
“guess we’re fated after all. not that i doubted it in the first place.” hugo stated, picking up your case and phone casually.
“oh my days,” you breathed. “how?” you hated how steady his gaze was while you were having a meltdown. this guy, this creep, was stuck around you now!
“destiny.”
“not a good reason…”
“you can choose not to believe it, but we’re fated for each other.” hugo replied. “i was actually looking for you, but i suppose destiny decided to be kind and drop you right in front of me.”
you pressed your lips into a thin line. “okay, what is it?”
“you’re traveling alone, i assume. you’re also only here for three months, so i was just thinking that you might need a guide. i only have practice for a few hours five days a week anyway. it doesn’t matter to me.” hugo tilted his head.
“you want me to accept a stranger’s offer?” you asked. “sorry, i don’t have the survival instincts of a walnut. i barely know you.”
“it’s your decision. but just so you know, i am a celebrity by technicality. i have a reputation to uphold. i can’t just kidnap you or mistreat you. that’d be bad for the both of us.” hugo said. you had to admit, he did have logic in his argument. “again, your choice.”
your budget didn’t allow you to find a tour guide, so this was really your best shot. and despite stranger danger, you had to admit that your gut and instinct really sensed noting off about hugo.
“fine.” you sighed. “sure. i’ll do it. you can be my tour guide or my helper or whatever you wanna call it.”
“that’s a deal.”
you hated to admit it, but vivien was good company.
he was blunt and could be preachy at times, but the thing was that he was completely aware of the times he was being annoying…and he completely owned his it as well. you had to admit, he was pretty funny, even if his humor was unintentional most of the time.
when the final day came, vivien decided to bring you on a walk. it was the evening of a weekday, and the park was quiet. the sun was setting softly, and the loudest noise was a small breeze and crickets.
you sat on a swing, meanwhile vivien stood against the swing’s metal beam. you didn’t want to speak. what the hell were you supposed to say to him? you were probably never going to see him ever again.
“well?” vivien began.
“what do you mean, ‘well?’” you asked. he looked at you as if you got 1+1 wrong.
“do you love me?” he asked. you choked on air. “i told you when we first met that i was in love with you. that hasn’t changed, not at all. do you love me back?”
your cheeks dusted pink. “i, well,” you did. you loved him, definitely more than just a crush would ever account for. he was practically your only non-digital communication for the past three months.
but this was bound to end.
and you didn’t want to leave.
you didn’t answer, instead standing up from the swing and walking towards him. when you were in front of vivien, he tilted his head—which was perfect for what you were about to do next.
because your hands cupped both of his cheeks, and you brought his lips to yours without hesitation.
vivien reacted within milliseconds, bringing his hands to your waist and only pulling away to catch for his breath. his cheeks were scarlet, his mouth open for air, and pupils dilated, this was the most emotional you’d ever seen vivien.
and he was so, utterly, completely in love.
“stay here,” he whispered. “just stay with me. i can cover costs for everything. i’ll do anything for you if you just don’t leave.” his gaze softened. “marry me if you need to. just don’t go.”
a bitter smile made its way onto your face. “vivien,” you grazed your thumb across his cheek. “i wish i could, but you know, i’ve got a life to live. and i’ve got senior year waiting for me back home, and graduation, and my friends, and i’ve got so much ahead of me. i love you, vivien. i really do. but this was never meant to last long anyway. if someday we meet again, but in a place where we could be together for longer, i promise i’ll marry you.”
you didn’t expect to be met with dejection, and that wasn’t what you received in the least. because vivien looked more determined than ever.
“that’s a promise. no take backs.”
you kissed his cheek. “no take backs.”
even two years later, you can still vividly remember your plane ride home.
you didn’t cry in front of vivien. you forced yourself not to, not when he dropped you off at the airport or when he stayed with you all the way until you entered security check and he had to leave.
but you were absolutely bawling your eyes out on the plane ride. and it was pathetic, to get so emotional over a 3-month summer situationship over a boy you’d probably never see again.
but there was just something about vivien that you couldn’t get over.
senior year went and left faster than your previous summer. midterms, finals, winter break, midterms, ap testing, sat, act, finals, graduation.
the next summer just wasn’t the same without vivien. rather than go out every day and enjoy the sun, you instead rotted in bed and just scrolled on social media. you shouldn’t be so hung up over him. you shouldn’t even remember him.
yet you did.
you applied to 12 colleges, all within your home country except for one: a university in london.
though i’ll be transferring to play for arsenal soon.
you still remembered vivien’s words. you didn’t want to search him up; you didn’t want to see him without being able to love him. but if there was even the slightest chance that you could get into that university in london, then maybe, just maybe, fate was real.
the university in london was the only one you were accepted into.
so you packed your bags and left. only your freshman year of college was just lonely. you didn’t see vivien. not a single time. no hearing his name in the streets, no seeing him on billboards, nothing. and sure, you kept your grades up, but you were in an entirely different country with no friends.
even though your college was impossibly close to the arsenal headquarters, you were never once able to get tickets to any matches. they just sold out too quickly. football fans were scary.
you didn’t return home for the summer between freshman and sophomore year of college.
your fate was determined in the middle of summer.
the hot june sun was beating down on your back, and your feet were dead from the tens of thousands of steps from that day. you were only two days in out of your three month long summer break—if this was how it was going to be the entire time, you were truly going to die.
your eyes were glued to the tiles on the streets, not realizing you had bumped into someone until you felt a dull pain on your head. “oh shit—i’m so sor—“
this scene felt strangely familiar.
when you looked up, every single one of your dreams manifested.
because vivien hugo looked at you as if he saw an angel, and your earbud case and phone were the prayers that led him to you.
“i finally found you.”
© 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧, 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐢.
▶︎•၊၊||၊|။|||||။၊|။• this tiktok. holy invisible string theory…my girl looks SO in love on slide 3 omg
𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 @/𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝-𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬!
@tookertherook
For you? I'll break my own heart
Pairings (Separate): Isagi Yoichi + Nagi Seishiro + Itoshi Rin x fem!reader Summary: Ego told you to break up with him or he gets kicked out. But underestimated how easily he can catch onto your lie. Tags: Hurt/Angst no comfort, slight fluff in the beginning, secret relationship Word Count: 2,436 words Notes: Long intro ik sorry lol. I love Ego but had to make him a villain here unfortunately for the plot :p
As one of the managers for BlueLock, you were hired for one simple task : Keep the players mentally sharp. Be someone they can talk to—someone who doesn’t think like a striker obsessed with goals. Someone with a different, fresh mind set than that of their fellow players. Despite being closer to age with them, it was easier for you to connect with some rather than others. But eventually, you were able to build connections with each player in their own ways.
You learned the different ways to deal with each of them—who needed quiet reassurance, who thrived on sharp critique, who would rather chew glass than admit they needed help at all. You became what they needed you to be, a different version of yourself for each of them. You became a fixture in the chaos, a steady presence they could rely on.
But with him, it was different. You didn't pretend. Maybe it started with the way he lingered after meetings, asking for "just one more opinion" on his plays. Or how his eyes tracked you during training, his passes sharper, his goals more dramatic—for you, always for you. The others teased him for showing off, but only the two of you knew the truth. Stolen moments that sent the butterflies in your stomach to flutter. His fingers brushing yours when you handed him a water bottle, the way his voice dropped in private—calling your name like a secret, midnight meetings in empty halls with the excuse of a "late night practice session"—where the only light was the glow of the emergency exit sign and the heat in his gaze. His arms holding you close to his body —still hot from his shower, like you were the last thing keeping him grounded within the chaos in his mind. It was against the rules. Ego would skin you both alive if he found out.
But when his lips finally met yours in the shadow of the lockers, his breath warm and tasting of victory, it was clear to you both— Some things were worth the risk.
For weeks, it was a game of its own—stolen touches disguised as accidents, eye contacts that spoke volumes without either of you uttering a word, the thrill of getting away with it. Until you didn’t. The door to Ego’s office slammed shut behind you.
"Tell me," Ego said, steepling his fingers, "how long did you think you could hide this from me?"
On the desk screen behind him, security footage played in damning HD: the two of you, tangled together in the shadows of the training yard last night, his lips on your neck, your hands in his hair. In BlueLock there were no secrets from Ego, how could you forget that? "How cute you two, but this is a distraction to my player. Break up now" Ego said with narrowed eyes, "Or he's going to have to pack it up and leave with you"
a 343 panel redraw because I really liked it, except I also made it unfunny
+ bonus sketch