welcome to my x reader blog!! please read this. or don't. but it might lead to ur ask being deleted without answer, lol. author is 21+, she/her. dark content blog main: @spitdrunken
this is my x reader blog. reader needs to be involved! poly relationships (or even polycules!) where multiple characters are involved with each other are fine, but reader must also play some kind of role! i write gender neutral and female readers. if not specified, i'll make reader gender neutral.
please request only 5 characters max per request. if it's more than that, i'll pick and choose.
platonic requests are welcome! includes asks about younger readers (like teenager/child).
sending in a request/ask is not a guarantee that it'll be completed. i've got a lot of stuff going on irl. this is something i do for fun! so i might be a bit picky with the asks i answer, if i were to get a lot. it's nothing personal when a request isn't completed.
nsfw is allowed, though kink stories (think: bdsm, petplay, piss, etc.) and dark content (like non/dubcon and yandere) won't be found here. this is more of a vanilla blog. send these kinds of asks to my other (nsfw + dark content) blog if you want: @spitdrunken.
Wordcount: 5.3k
Notes: Autistic!Reader, Gender Neutral!Reader, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Autstic Shutdown, Attempt at Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Harmful stimming (scratching at skin).
While the Dateviators' introduction into your life has brought you a lot of good, you can't deny that it's made your life many, many times more stressful than it had been prior. On occasion, it gets too much for you to handle. Both of your partners try their best to help you.
The thrum of the talk and music, characteristic of the Breaker Box on nights without an open mic, makes you linger for a moment at the door. You'd promised your two partners (the term Eddie prefers) or boyfriends (as Volt favours, just for the look on Eddie's face) that you'd stop by today. Even though you're not really feeling it, you won't go back on your word. …It's not like you have much of an excuse to fall back on. You're the weird one, for being exhausted after a day of sitting at home and talking to people.
You make a beeline for the bar. Eddie looks up as soon as you slide into a seat. It's usually deserted around here as it's harder to see the stage and, admittedly, the chairs and tables are much more comfortable to sit at. But you like the way you can swing your legs around in the air while sitting here. And Eddie's company.
You know Eddie's looking at you. Instead of meeting his eye, you first try to soothe yourself, fiddling with the infinity cube in your hands. The motions never fail to be satisfying. Sadly, you can't hear the mechanical clicking noises it makes, which would be even better. It's drowned out by all the noise in the bar.
"You look tired," is the first thing Eddie says to you. He's probably right. If it had been purely up to you, you would've called it an early night.
"Good to see you too." It comes out a little harsher than you'd intended, and you immediately feel guilty.
He's saying it out of a place of concern. Still, it sours your mood further. You've made the effort to drag yourself here tonight and you don't want to be reminded of… How you're feeling, how you must look. You want to be a fun presence and have a good time. Even when wishing for that seems to be wishful thinking right now.
Just a couple of months ago, you could've told Eddie 'I can say the same to you' without batting an eye. That's no longer the case. He'd felt better the moment you fixed his wire, and has only improved since then. It's not as if he's an entirely different person. Rather, he's become a happier version of himself. More energised, less snappy, at ease. You wish someone could dig their fingers into the wrinkles of your brain and rewire you. …It's never going to be that simple.
Speaking hard right now. Instead of putting any of those feelings into words, you stare down at the counter and count the creases you can see in the wood. You're playing with the cube again. The silence has lingered too long already when you open your mouth again.
"…Sorry. That was mean." You mumble, probably barely audible above all the noise. Eddie laughs. You jerk your head up and narrow your eyes at him.
"You couldn't be mean if you tried." He reaches for one of the glasses and starts wiping it clean as a way to keep his hands busy. "I'd say that a poor attitude is part of the Breaker Box customer service, so you're fitting right in."
You roll your eyes and crack a slight smile. Eddie's own seems to grow in response to your own. Your smile doesn't last long. It's just hard. You get like this, sometimes. Withdrawing into yourself, feeling like you're stuck inside your head and withdrawing into yourself. Entirely cut off from both the world around you and what you yourself are feeling. Numb and detached. You've never found the right words to describe it. They wouldn't understand.
He clears his throat. "I made you your favourite."
Eddie puts down a martini glass in front of you with a strawberry daiquiri in it. The slight lumpiness reveals that, rather than pouring it from a ready-made bottle, he'd taken the time to blend the ice and strawberries himself. There's a sliced strawberry on the rim, cut into a heart. Your own flutters at the sight. Again, you brighten a little.
"Thanks, Eddie. This is really sweet." You lean forward and take the tiniest of sips. It's sweet and cold and refreshing, just the way you like it. Even as you're sitting there, you are thinking to yourself that you should try harder, look happier, be more excited. But it's like slamming into a glass wall every time you try.
"I know sweet is the only flavour you drink. You owe me some teeth for taste testing it." You stick your tongue out at him with a blank expression and he rolls his eyes with a smile. "Well, you're limited to one drink tonight. Any more and you're bound to fall over."
Any other day, you would've laughed and shot back with something entertaining. You only take another sip from your drink instead. Neither of you talk as you continue to drink, occasionally craning your head to look in the direction of the stage, and Eddie whips up a drink for another customer. In the dim lighting, your eyelids are starting to droop. The music seems to grow even louder. You only notice you were plugging your ear with one of your fingers when Eddie tugs on your wrist.
"I think it'd be best if you got some rest upstairs." Eddie's staring you down, a crease in between his eyebrows. "You can lie down for a bit. There's that book you brought over last time too. Didn't move it from the bedroom."
"Nooo…" The alcohol has loosened your tongue a little more.
A part of you knows that Eddie's suggestion is the right thing to do in this situation. And yet, your body protests against it. You don't want to move. You'd prepared yourself for spending the night here, even though you weren't feeling it, and now you're supposed to go on and move somewhere else again. It's not what you had in mind for how your evening would go.
"I wasn't asking." Eddie puts both the glass and the rag down. He walks around the bar until he's right next to you. "Come on. Or do I need to call over Volt so we can carry you upstairs?"
"You wouldn't. He's busy."
"Are you sure about that?" …You really wouldn't entirely put it past him to go up to Volt and make such a ridiculous request of him. And knowing Volt, you think he'd do it! Your face heats up at the mere idea of being carried through the bar and up the stairs, in front of a whole group of people, by both of your partners.
"Okay, okay, fine." You get up from your chair, feet numb for a moment as you jump down from the chair. "Are you happy?"
"I think I'm starting to understand how Volt must've felt all that time." He reaches for your hand and lightly tugs on it. There's no bite in his tone, no anger on his face. A jolt of shame immediately shoots through you. Eddie's been nothing but patient with you. You're not even mad at him, and you're acting awful.
"Let's go. You're miserable down here, and I don't like seeing you punish yourself."
His warm, calloused hand is your tether as you make your way through the bar and towards the back. On the way, you catch Volt's gaze for a moment as he chats with what must be the next performer. He smiles and waves. In response, you limply lift up your hand and avoid his probing eyes. He must be wondering what's wrong with you.
"…What about the bar?" Your voice is too loud, ears still used to the volume in the open space down below.
"They'll be fine even if they have to wait a few minutes for their drink. And if they aren't, I don't care."
The stairs end in a floor above the Breaker Box where Eddie and Volt live together. It's where they spend the vast majority of their free time. It's not too spacious, but it has all the essentials. Eddie leads you to the bedroom, the noise there audible but muffled through distance and layers of wood. It's like a weight has been lifted off of your chest. You sit down on the edge of the bed.
"This better?" Eddie's voice and face have been softened with concern. You squeeze his hand and nod. He was right, of course. Despite what the stubborn part of your brain had been telling you, this really was for the best.
"Question," you say and Eddie hums. You're not looking at him and instead playing with his hand. He allows it, letting you tug on his fingers and rubbing your own fingertips along the lines on his palm.
"Can you… Stay? For a little while. Just a few minutes. …Sorry." In response, Eddie sits down next to you and bumps his shoulder into yours.
"I've been thinking about it, but we really need to make you some kind of apology jar. Every time you apologise for a stupid reason, you put a dollar in there. I'll be rich within a week."
You pull harder on one of his fingers and frown. "You're a fuse box. You don't need any money."
"You'd be surprised." You have absolutely no idea what that is supposed to mean and you huff out a breath through your nose as you shake your head. You don't want to address his other comment. Just the idea of your apologies being stupid ties your inside into knots.
After a minute or so of silence, you swallow. "I'm sorry… For, uh, promising to come over. And then. Behaving like this, and— Not being fun to be around. I don't, I don't want to be like this, but… I can't. Can't snap out of it on my own easily."
Eddie sighs. "That's dollar number one. I should really start writing this down."
"It's not a stupid apology!" You snap, finally looking up to catch his eye and immediately falter. You drop his hand. "God, I just— I don't want to be such a drain to be around."
Reading people has never been your strong suit. You've asked Eddie more times than you'd like to admit whether or not he was secretly upset about something you did and refusing to tell you. But, contrary to your expectations, even you can tell that he isn't upset with you right now. His touch finds your hand again. This time, he's the one stroking his thumb over yours.
"You're not, though. You don't have to be sorry. I, and, Volt, too… Just want to spend time with you. As you. Not some kind of permanently happy-go-lucky clown." His other hand reaches up to scratch the side of his neck. "I don't want you to be upset, but— It's okay if you are. You helped us through, well, a hell of a rough patch. Let me help you now."
Your shoulder slump and your gaze drifts back down to your lap. "That was different."
"It really wasn't. Except for the fact that it was a whole lot worse. And yet, you're still here." Your heart thaws just a little. You bump your shoulder against his, like he'd done himself a little while ago.
"Life was easier when I could just call you a hypocrite when you told me to take care of myself." You make sure to sound as unserious as you mean the comment to be.
Eddie snorts. "You're awfully hard to comfort, you know that, right? …I'm joking. Don't apologise." He interlaces his fingers with yours again. "I've been here for as long as you've lived here. Things aren't always easy for you."
Time and time again you're reminded of the fact that there's nothing new or mysterious about you to the objects living around your house. Eddie's been in the house for all of your breakdowns over the years. There's no way he hasn't heard at least some of them. It's a miracle then, you think, that he's still willing to date you. It gives you the courage to be more honest.
"I…" You trail off and refocus. "I get… Stuck in my own head sometimes and, then, I can't really feel anything? I just kind of freeze up. And stare into the distance a lot. I'm sure— I'm sure you've noticed." You laugh a little, nervously. "It's a bit… I can't snap out of it on my own. What you did, like, guiding me away even when I didn't really want to at the time… Was good, I think. Could you— Uh, if it isn't too much to ask, do it again? If— If you think I need it. In the future."
"Sure. I would've done that anyway. But it's good to have your permission for when me and Volt will really have to drag you up the stairs."
Purely on impulse, you turn towards Eddie and wrap both of your arms around him, pressing your face into his shoulder. He lets out a soft 'oof'.
"Love you," you mumble.
"…Love you too." You pull your head back and find Eddie with his eyes averted, a blush on his face. Quickly, you lean up and press a kiss to his jawline, smiling when you pull away. He places his hand on your face, pushing in jest, and you laugh.
"I see you're back to normal," Eddie grumbles. You press your lips to his palm and he jerks his hand away. He's even more flustered after that. Outright seduction rarely throws Eddie off-balance, but it's almost chaste shows of affection that have him blushing. It's cute.
There'd been a time that you wondered if Eddie even liked being touched at all, that you wouldn't have done anything like this. Or that you'd taken his response at face value and immediately pulled away. It had taken a while, but you know now that Eddie likes being touched, at least in private. This push and pull is now something that's familiar to you— And you know that if you showed any hint of being upset right now, he'd fold like wet paper.
You move away and let yourself drop down backwards on the mattress. "I think I'll go read something… You can go back downstairs, if you want."
Eddie gets up and stretches his arms above his head. "You mind if I tell Volt what happened? Either I tell him, or he'll come ask you after closing." He gives you a sideway glance. "You will stay that long, right?"
You nod. "You can tell Volt." He's probably been worried ever since your lousy greeting earlier and, selfishly, you don't really want to talk about it right now.
Even if it makes you a little uneasy to know that they talk about you when you're not around. Logically, you know that they must, but… It's probably all fine. You shouldn't let the bad thoughts you have about yourself make you think worse of the people who love you.
As soon as Eddie returns to work, you amuse yourself with the books you left behind here. Intermittently, you put them down and try to work through what you're feeling. Now that you're on your own with relative peace and quiet you feel that you have the space to think.
Maybe it's not really so strange that, while you've been feeling better at times, you also rather regularly feel worse. Everything about your life has changed in such a short span of time. Any sense of normalcy has been completely shattered. Your home, where you'd retreated because of how far removed it otherwise is from your usual stressors, is now completely filled with strangers. All stability and predictability has vanished, and your house is no longer a place that is free from judgment. Has never been free of it. You can't handle talking to more than a few people a day. Going to 'a few' from 'zero' is already a big step for you.
You're probably the only one who would be so dramatic about this whole situation, who knows. But you find it all… Overwhelming. It's good for you, perhaps, but that doesn't make it enjoyable. Still, you can't deny that it's bringing you good things. Eddie and Volt, for example.
It's only when you set your book down is that you notice how much more silent the room has gotten. There's no real way to tell time in here, though you figure that it must be after closing hours. How far along are they with cleaning up? Maybe you can help.
Before you get the chance to get up however, there's a knock on the door.
"It's your own room! So, come on in." You call out in response. There's no one else who it could be other than one of your two partners. Or both of them.
"I simply wanted to respect your privacy, live wire." Volt steps in and your eyes are instantly drawn to him. He brightens up every room he steps foot in, both metaphorically and also quite literally. The man is absolutely gorgeous. Somehow, he finds you ravishing (a claim you find dubious, but you feel it'd make the whole situation worse by trying to bring it up).
"You weren't feeling too well earlier, were you? I'm sorry I couldn't be there, but… Eddie had everything under control, it seems." You sit up a little straighter, shifting your back closer to the pillow you've put up against the wall behind the bed.
"Yeah, Eddie was great. I'm okay now… How was everything in the club?"
Volt walks across the room and hangs his jacket over a chair. "Oh, everything was fine. Keyes graced us with her presence tonight and her performance was, as always, delightful." He takes off his shoes before sliding on the bed next to you, laying on his side so his full attention and gaze is directed at you. You shift a bit under the weight of his eyes. You don't quite meet them, but this is a trait of yours that Volt has grown used to.
"Will you allow me to make up for my absence?" His voice lowers, both in tone and volume. He reaches out and cups your face in his hand. Volt's palms are soft where Eddie's are calloused and just as warm. Lifting your head sideways, you lean into his touch as he rubs a circle on your cheek with his thumb. Heat rises to your cheeks and your eyes slide half-shut.
"…Okay," you whisper. Your hands dig in the sheets underneath you. Even to you, it's clear what Volt is getting at and, while a need for sex hadn't crossed your mind before, yours has always been more of a responsive desire. It'll be okay.
"Wonderful," he practically purrs. Volt is the kind of man who can make any kind of movement look graceful, even when he's climbing on top of you. Both of his hands planted firmly on the mattress, a knee between your thighs, he leans down.
Instead of catching your mouth as you'd expected, his lips land on your cheek. Then your nose, your forehead, your chin, the tip of your nose and back around to your other cheek. No spot on your face is safe from his lips. A happy burst of laughter bubbles up from your throat and you can feel Volt smile against your skin. The closeness of his hair makes even the insides of your eyelids look lighter.
Next, his lips do meet yours and your bottom lip ends up slotted between both of us. He sucks on it and tilts his head sideways, a hand coming up to support your head as he deepens the kiss. The motions are familiar and your lips part easily for his tongue. There's always a buzzing that surrounds Volt, akin to white noise. It's only audible in quiet moments like this, where there's no sounds other than the meeting of your lips and soft breathing.
Volt's knee slowly slides upward, parting your legs further and further until it's nudged up against your crotch. His tongue rubs against yours and lifts upwards to trace the roof of your mouth with the tip. You whimper at the touch to this sensitive patch of flesh and this emboldens your partner further.
His hand starts to wander, his fingertips leaving goosebumps over your arms and tugging at the fabric of your clothes. It descends lower and lower. For a moment, he plays with the hem of your pants, before he dips slightly underneath, your stomach ties itself into knots, and…
You pull away and turn your head in the other direction. Your nails are dug into the palm of your hand. You don't want to be like this, wish that you could just lay back right now and enjoy it, but the words burst forth from you regardless, unable to be contained.
"I-I'm sorry, I'm just… I'm just not really feeling this right now, I think. Sorry, I know you wanted to, uh…" You trail off.
Volt has moved back. He'd peeled himself away from you as soon as the first apology had been uttered. His expression is unreadable to you. But his hair crackles, the pungent smell of ozone fills the air. Guilt cuts through you and tears burn at the corners of your eyes. You don't want to make others upset, don't want to be a bother to anyone. Without fail, things never go the way you want… You wish you were an easier person to be around.
"I'm so, so sorry." Volt tells you. He pulls away from you further, each movement slow. Like he's worried about scaring off a frightened animal. He sits down next to you, legs tucked against himself. Through the haze of your tears, you see he reaches out a hand to touch your head but decides against it. He drops it back down to the mattress. You've managed to leave Volt, a person who seems to be able to spin pretty words in any given situation, speechless.
You babble out another apology and try to wipe away the tears that are now streaming down your face. They come too fast for you to keep up with. In an attempt to soothe yourself, you bunch up one hand in your hand, fingernails clawing at your scalp. You know it's not good, you know you shouldn't, but it's the only thing you can think of to do.
"…Do you want me to leave, for now?" Volt asks, all soft and gentle, voice barely above a whisper. You shake your head, hard. You're not sure exactly what you want, but you're certain that you don't want to be alone right now. Words fail you and all that comes out of your mouth is a broken sob. He must think that you're such a freak right now.
Volt takes a deep breath, fussing over you in a manner that is familiar with your usual fears and insecurities. "It's okay. It really is okay, live wire. I'm not mad at you." He places his hand closer enough, close enough to touch and you want to but you just can't.
"I mean it, I am only glad you told me, I would never— I would never want to do anything that you don't enjoy. If I did, I… There's nothing for you to be so upset about, my spark. Everything's okay."
Eddie steps in through the door, the click of it falling shut and the weight of his eyes making you aware of his presence. Your whole body tenses up further and you curl in up yourself. You pull your thighs up close to your chest, resting your forehead on the top of your knees.
"What did you do?" He asks Volt and the mere question has your silent tears devolving into sobs once again.
You scratch harder. Even though Eddie hasn't asked you a thing, you frantically shake your head, because it's not Volt's fault, it's all you, it's all you and he did nothing wrong and he's wonderful you're really, really really sorry. Part of these thoughts you blubber about out loud, though you're not exactly sure how much.
Silence settles in the room and the two of them must be having a conversation inaudible to anyone other than themselves. They're capable of passing along shards of meaning, feelings and intentions over an invisible wire. You don't want to think about how Eddie is getting to know the fact that Volt tried to have sex with you to help you relax, only for you to start bawling like a baby about it. Would they leave?
The biggest issue you're confronted with when you get stuck in your own brain, is that you can't even decipher yourself what you want. You don't want to be alone, you may or may not want to be touched, but you don't want to be seen, don't want your existence to be acknowledged. All you want is to be invisible. In your distress, though, even the Dateviators perched upon the bridge of your nose are forgotten.
You swallow another mouthful of saliva, painful as it makes its way down your throat, when the mattress dips with another person's weight. You don't move. You hold your breath.
"Eddie," Volt starts. "You've got any more stories to share?"
You lift your head a little at this, looking at the two men sitting on the bed in front of you. It's a poorly kept secret that you love listening to Eddie complain… As long as it's not about you, that is. You can't exactly explain why you find it so funny to listen to him rant and curse and get his feelings out. It seems to help, though, and you're both getting something out of it. He's had a lot of experience dealing with the various characters around the house. Eddie's even known some objects that have moved out since then, taken by previous homeowners.
Eddie's eyes flicker over to you and you promptly plop your head back down. "Well…"
It's obvious that they're trying to cheer you up. Eddie will repeat stories upon your request sometimes, just because you find them so entertaining to listen to. Slowly but surely you feel yourself getting pulled back into your body as Eddie talks of familiar things. You think Eddie's complaints about Tony's complete ineptitude when it comes to anything related to electrical engineering are some of the funniest. You start to crack the occasional smile.
"If Luke ever starts dropping by again, even you will start to reconsider the 'no banning patrons' rule." The comment is directed at Volt. "You weren't around for it back then, but fuck… There was a period where he'd show up every damn night, trying to get me to concoct something disgusting. Could go on and on about it for hours. Now, I can't remember what it was called, but then just hearing it would want me bash my head into the wall."
You look up. Your eyes are still red and swollen though you've stopped crying. "Powercrank, right?" While listening, your body has loosened up bit by bit. You're not desperately hugging your legs to yourself any longer and you've relaxed into the pillow behind you. Both of your hands are in your lap.
"Yes! That's the damn drink," Eddie responds, before sighing. "I must have made at least a dozen different thing for him. Eventually, I stopped caring and just started tossing in random shit. He wouldn't leave or shut up if I didn't. In the end, I told him he should just start injecting caffeine or something for the results he wanted."
You hum in the back of your throat. "You know, I wonder why he didn't go to Bev's place instead." Volt has turned to look at you now too, a soft smile on his face. You pretend not to notice. "She's also in the kitchen, while you're all the way upstairs."
Eddie snorts. "Believe me, I tried to send him there. Beverly had been having the same issue though, apparently— And not even she wanted him as a customer, which is saying something. We kept trying to send him to the other, I think. It was a while ago."
This new tidbit, the idea of the two bartenders in your house desperately trying to offload a troublesome customer on the other (the fact that you quite like Luke notwithstanding), makes you crack. You start to laugh, shoulders shaking as you rock back and forth a little, and both of your partners join in purely because you're laughing.
"That's what I like to hear." Volt smiles at you. He makes no move to get closer to you. The only reason it stands out is because the two of you are usually so touchy with each other. You like it. Physical affection is nice and affirming and, well, you're a bit clingy. It's no wonder why he'd hesitate to reach out now, though. As embarrassing as it feels, you're going to have to make the first move.
You lift yourself up, just a little, and put on a shaky smile at Volt. You open your arms wide. Your partner laughs and beams at you. To have a smile so bright directed solely at you has your heart skipping a beat. Never one to pass up on an opportunity to touch you, he moves in close, laying down next to you and wrapping an arm around you. He leans over to press a kiss to your cheek.
"Nooo," you whine out. "My face is super gross right now." Volt only chuckles in response and plants two more kisses on your face.
"You know that I just want to kiss you more when you start to pout." Your face starts to heat up again, but before really cuddling up to your boyfriend, you extend an arm in Eddie's direction.
"Please?" You'd never forget about him.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." Eddie settles in on the other side of you, but then puts a hand on top of your head and starts looking through your hair. It takes you a moment of complete confusion before you realise what he's doing.
"I didn't scratch myself too bad," you mumble.
"Uh-huh. I'm checking anyway." Once satisfied that you really didn't cut yourself up with your nails (and showing him that there's no blood underneath them), he finally lays down. You know he doesn't like it when you hurt yourself like that, he's told you before. When you get caught up in your feelings of distress however, it's almost impossible for you to stop yourself. You only stop when you calm down.
Your heart nearly bursts with affection at being cuddled up in between your two partners, but you still feel as if you have to address the elephant in the room.
"Um…" You can practically feel Eddie's eyes boring holes into the side of your head and the apology you wanted to give dies on your tongue. "Thanks for, for being so understanding. And patient… And helping me. Volt, you, you didn't do anything wrong."
"Neither did you," he assures you. "You can always tell me 'no'."
"What he said," Eddie chimes in.
You don't always feel the best about yourself. You often feel like just the act of being alive is more difficult for you than it is for other people. Things won't magically change overnight, and a lot of the things you experience won't ever change, but at least you have two lovely partners to support you.
"Eddieeee…" You ask after a little of silence. "Tell me some more stories?"
He huffs. "You really delight in my misery, don't you?"
"It's good to get it out of your system," Volt says. "And yes, it's pretty amusing to see you get all hot and bothered."
This time, Eddie groans. "That's definitely not the words you should be using."
As the two of them bicker like an old married couple, you smile to yourself, happy to be there.
i'm honestly wondering how steep of a learning curve it would be for the dateables to suddenly become human HAHA there's going to be so many things that they'd never even had to think about as objects... like, eating and drinking not being optional. the same for sleeping. also they sweat now and have to use the bathroom and, like, have to get a job and pay taxes, lmao.
i like the idea that you maybe set up some kind of crash course for 'being a human person' after the first few dateables you realise... because it doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped! they don't, suddenly, magically know everything they're supposed to do. though this does different from object to object, also. (mac, for example, has seen so much content related to humans that they have a pretty good idea of everything involved.)
after you've realised quite a few dateables, you've managed to compile a very extensive slides presentation of things you're Not supposed to be doing. alongside VERY RELEVANT EXAMPLES. i don't know there's a lot of comedy potential here.
i really like the thought of eddie being Very Considerate after all. specifically thinking about you having a preference for pretty sweet drinks, like certain types of cocktails (or mocktails), and those aren't the type of things he typically serves. they're not on the menu, either. after one too many momentarily scrunched up faces and polite praise, he takes matters into his own hands... and secretly heads off to the tumbler to get a few lessons from beverly.
the woman in question had laughed awkwardly, a little too high-pitched. "what, trying to steal my customers? i don't have that many to begin with, eddie."
"i'm busy enough as is," he'd grumbled. "you can keep them."
beverly had agreed after eddie, with much effort, had confessed the lessons were purely for your sake, and he didn't have any intention of letting anyone order to them. she'd especially brightened at the suggestion he'd redirect any customers who asked to the tumbler. he practices until his lower arms hurt from all the shaking he's done.
volt finds the efforts he goes through for you, toiling in silence, endlessly entertaining. especially that one time he'd spilled edible glitter all over his shirt sleeves, which had been visible for days.
"will i get to enjoy your secret menu too, eddie?" volt had asked with a teasing lilt.
"not going to happen," eddie tried to keep his face even, but ultimately failed to stop himself from cracking a smile. "beverly only allowed me one exception, so you're going to need to leave for the tumbler. off you go."
volt had sighed without any hurt, eyes twinkling. "you are so endlessly cruel to your other half." (eddie has already proven to him how much he cares, many times over. to eddie's own detriment, even.)
so, yes, long story short: eddie would put himself out there, go through a few workshops of practice and let himself be teased just to watch the way your eyes light up when he makes you a drink you like. go spoil your boyfriend back, lol.
i would absolutely be able to get eddie and volt's good ending because i'm autistic and i love repetitive tasks like household chores. i love scrubbing tables and vacuuming floors
author 🤝 anon
I'm also autistic and I definitely wrote that little Eddie thing based off of my own feelings!! They would love you for sure <3 Though Volt will try to make sure you get some breaks also HAHA
not a request per say, but just curious! who are your favorites in date everything? and if you had to be stuck with 1 or 2 character(s) during traffic, who would you wish for it to be and why? have a nice day!
What a fun question :D!! Thanks for sending it in! I think most of my favourites are pretty popular? I am kind of obsessed with Harper and Dirk by extension (but mostly Harper, lol.) I also really like Washford and Drysdale + Eddie and Volt! A lot of the 'possible throuple endings', as you can see HAHA
For the 'single' characters... I really like Amir, Dorian, Teddy, Diana and Hector! I also have to say I haven't met Everyone yet so this list might change... I also don't really HATE anyone? It's pretty difficult for me to dislike a fictional character, ngl. And in Date Everything they're all written in a way that is ultimately entertaining to me!
As for your traffic question - Probably someone like Teddy or Abel! I think they would remain patient during a traffic jam, and would have some interesting stories to tell!!
Hi hi your Eddie drabble is spinning circles around my brain. I feel like I just gained sentience after reading it oh my goodness.
I used a guide for their route— but I definitely would’ve locked myself out of the romance ending because I’m very passive and would not have pushed to help LMFAOOO
you do NAWT have two tell my twice to gtfo Eddie I promise🙏. Moment he glares at me im like wilting on the spot, and I’d be like shucks man sorry to bother you 😭
Anywaus I love love love you’re writing and can’t wait to see what else you end up writing!!! 🫶
WAA I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it and look forward to more of my stuff :D! I'm going to be honest I also used a guide 😭 I went through the first interaction with Eddie and I was like....... okay goodbye never see you again i guess GAHAHAHA i'm noooot a pushy person at all so i would also just Never talk to him again LOL
That's why I enjoy the idea of sticking around Eddie a while (through something like cleaning) with little conversation, and you just kind of grow on him after a while. You're actually putting in effort around here, seemingly without ulterior motives, and your presence isn't grating on him like it is with many others. The fact that he's able to forget you're there in the first place, until you knock into something or water sloshes over the rim of your bucket of water, is a good thing, really.
Eventually, he can't help but look forward to your quiet company, and even the way you hum or mumble to yourself as you work becomes endearing.
But you're nervous around him, he can tell. You're walking on eggshells around him, trying to keep your distance and your head down. He knows you're kind of a nervous mess to begin with- Eddie has been in this house even longer than you, after all, and has picked up on tidbits about you that you'd never explicitly said out loud. This doesn't change the fact that the current situation is pretty much his fault. He was being a dick to you, the first time you spoke.
(The whole situation twists at a sore spot inside of him, at the whole reason his relationship with Volt is complicated to begin with. Because, of course, his 'other half' has no issues talking to you; and why should he? He's everything that Eddie had thought other people would want; charismatic in an effortless way, smiling easily and capable of sweeping just about anyone off their feet. It had been what he had wanted, in his own loneliness. But it's still a little embittering, sometimes, to see a part of himself, everything that Eddie fails to be, be the one people only ever want to see.)
It's up to him to fix it, this time. He knows that, and he'll try, despite the discomfort twisting in his gut. Eddie speaks to you, the dialogue rehearsed in his mind, the next time you wander near the bar, to empty out your bucket or wash the rag.
"We didn't... Exactly got off on the right foot," he says, tapping his finger on the top of the bar in a rapid rhythm. "Do you just want to start over?"
You blink owlishly at him before you give him a small, hesitant smile. "Uh, yeah. I'd like that. I... I just figured you didn't like me very much, so... Y'know. I thought I'd just let you do your thing."
"I don't hate you," Eddie says. "...You would've noticed if I had."
A loud snort leaves you, surprising even yourself, guessing by the hand you slap over your mouth. The smile is still audible in your voice when you speak.
"Mhm, okay. Sorry for misunderstanding the fact that you've been ignoring me for a week, then." There's a kind of relieved giddiness about you. You lower your hand and send him a smile that has his heart thud.
saw a couple of people saying they wouldn't be able to realistically get volt and eddie's good ending irl, because they would respect eddie's boundaries LOL i wrote a little something based around that <3
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eddie told you, rather clearly, might you add, that he wanted nothing to do with you after the first time you approached him! you have absolutely no interest in pushing boundaries there. after years spent alone in your home, your bad at socialising with just about anyone, let alone someone who essentially tells you to fuck off.
but you do like to help. you enjoy making yourself useful! and now that your job is well… cancelled, for the time being, you have nothing to do except talk to objects and laze around the house. sometimes, you're just itching for an activity that has you doing something tangibly, visibly useful.
maybe the first time you do it, you're just waiting to tell volt how much you enjoyed the show as the club is emptying out. there's empty and half-full glasses left behind on a bunch of the tables, ringed, wet stains left behind everywhere coasters weren't used. eddie's washing some used glasses behind the bar and, before he even has the chance to make a comment or send you a look, you've already put them down and going back for another round.
"do you have, uh, some kind of cloth i could use?" you ask. you imagine he should have a better response to your presence, this time. you aren't pushing or prodding at him for answers, just genuinely doing something that will make his life easier!
but eddie just looks at you. "to… wipe the tables down…" you continue slowly, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
"why are you doing this?" he asks, eyes narrowed. "volt won't mind if you sit around waiting."
you shrug your shoulders, avert your eyes and sigh. "i haven't… i'd like to feel useful, for a little bit. are you going to let me?"
as a response, all you get is a rag tossed in your general direction. it might've once been colourful, but it's been dulled and stained as a testament to its uses. you mutter a 'thanks' underneath your breath, before continuing what you were doing.
you and eddie still don't converse much, but do settle into a routine. you'll stick around to help him clean up after the night is finished and, as the days pass, your lists of responsibilities grows. besides what you'd already been doing, you now sweep and mop the floors after having moved all the tables and stools to the side, neatly stacking them up in rows. it's menial, mind-numbing work… but it's also simple, predictable and, in a sense, relaxing. you can just turn your brain off for a little while.
"you know i'm just giving you the tasks i don't want to do myself, right?" eddie breaks your shared silence after a couple of nights spent just like this. there's some amusement in his voice and, when you look up, there's a small smile playing around his lips.
"like i said, it's just nice to have something to do that… feels like it's making a difference. just a bit."
eddie rubs the back of his neck. "well. if you want to do something that'll truly make you feel useful, i could walk you through some of it."
notes: dorian + reader (reader is Not home owner), alcohol/heavy drinking, vomit mention, post-realization spoilers. no romance in this because reader is Very Drunk and dorian is doing his job. i just like the idea of him looking out for others during work hours, as he should :)
dorian can't remember you coming into the club with your friends. there are so many faces passing by on a given night, after all. it's impossible to remember. it's only a good thing that he has no clue who you are; he only remembers the troublesome ones. just another clubgoer who didn't try to push their way ahead in line or, god forbid, tried to commit identity fraud with some fake or borrowed id.
but he certainly remembers you leaving. you'd been stumbling on your legs without any sense of direction, slumped against the nearest wall and sank to the floor. only to promptly stop moving. dorian's seen it all before. there are countless reasons for someone to get as sloshed as you are right now, but none of those matter more than actually getting you the help you need.
(maybe you're not usually a drinker, and had overindulged in one too many mixes or cocktails, the alcohol content of which are always hard to gauge. or you've been going through a tough time and had one too many. or meds that mess with the way alcohol affects your functioning. endless reasons, really.
but you'd stumbled into the bathroom, sat down to pee, only to have the world swirling and dancing around you as soon as you'd gotten up again, discordant giggles bursting from your mouth. fuck, i've had way too much, you'd thought before pushing through crowds and heading to the door. you'd seemed fine before.)
dorian exchanges a glance with the other fellow at the door and inclines his head in your direction. "i'll get that one." the night is coming to a close and leaving one person at the door is fine.
if someone rings the alarm at the bar, he's close enough to be able to come running over regardless. dorian squats down in front of you, keeping his hands to himself. your eyes are just barely cracked open.
"hello. are you alright?" he asks. the shake of your head you give him, lilting up and down as your skull moves side to side, says more than enough. "you've had one too many, yeah? who are you with?"
your shoulders hunch up, close to your ears, face scrunching up. "i lost them. my friends. they... they left... i think? i dunno- there's a lot of people inside, and..." you simply trail off, eyes hazy, sentence left unfinished.
"if they really left, they're an awful lot. those are not friends." he tells you firmly. you're clearly left in no state to be on your own, much less in the middle of town around this time of night, when the streets will soon crowd with hordes of drunk folk heading on home.
"i think i'm going to throw up." is all you say in response, chest heaving as if to support your words.
"alright, alright. none of that just now. you think you can stand?" rather than wait for a coherent answer, he's putting his hands under your armpits and tugging you in a standing position with ease. you practically collapse against him, though it doesn't make him flinch whatsoever. all it does is make him let out a soft grunt, before he's supporting you further, looping an arm around you to steady you.
(a lesser doorman would've sent you on their way, told you that you're too drunk to get back in, and secretly thought to himself: as long as they're out of the club and not my problem, they can fall over and throw up in a ditch, for all i care. but dorian takes his job incredibly seriously and always goes the extra mile, always insistent on protecting any unfortunate clubgoer.
...among customers and colleagues, he's also infamous for completely refusing bribes and getting upset with anyone who does accept them. a trait dorian rather prides himself on, but no on else.)
"we've got some chairs in the back. a bucket, too." dorian stands still for a few moments to allow you to catch your breath. "there we go. it's not all that far."
"why do you have... a bunch of, of doors on your arms...?" you slur as he takes you through a hallway in the club, off-limits to visitors.
"i like doors," he responds simply, a response so dry and utterly confounding, especially to your alcohol-addled mind, that it has you laughing so hard that tears are streaming down your face and dorian has to practically drag you over the floor.
he huffs out a breath through his nose, but smiles. he's always glad to see his untapped comedy potential being appreciated.
in the end, he orders you a taxi home or, if all else fails due to the busy nature of closing hours, he'll drive and stop by your place at the tailend of his shift himself. ...you probably won't remember much of the gesture the next morning, given the state you're in. but dorian feels like he's done a fine job.
