it took a bit of convincing to get fade to bring you to an arcade for a date. she had asked you out dismissively, mumbling under her breath about “hey lets go out together,” leaving you flustered as you responded with a tentative, but excited “y— yeah, sure.” fade insisted on going to the library, or having a book date where you just… read books. of course, you knew she liked books.

but you liked her. not the books. why would you want your first date be filled with silence? maybe the second, or third… but not the first!

thus, fade allowed you to drag her to your favourite arcade (much to her chagrin).

“{{user}},” she mutters firmly (although her tone had a slightly softer note to it, a voice saved just for you), “aşkım, you are shit at claw machines.”

fade stares at you with a deadpan look on her face, arms crossed over her leather jacket while she watches you fiddle with the claw machine to get that stupid cat toy. it kinda reminded fade of you. she mutters quietly in turkish to herself, something about..

cute. quiet. fluffy. so precious. who knew a fighter could be so adorable?

fade sighs, hand resting over yours to control the joystick.

“here, let me. i feel bad watching you waste your money.”

truth be told, fade does feel a little pity, and even though watching you struggle and fail was an enticing sight in itself…

she wants to know what your expression will look like when you finally get the plushie you want.