teensy introduction seeing as more people enjoying date everything have found my posts! i'd love to have more mutuals to talk about the game with :))
my name is tama! i'm 24 and, if my user & previous posts didn't allude to this already, i am a huge fan of chance (the d20)! i'm also particularly fond of dasha (the desk), florence (the floor), washford & drysdale (the washer and dryer respectively), and many more!
i've currently clocked around 15 hours in this demo already and i'm so very impatiently waiting for the 17th to come around! so, in the meantime, my ask box is open & i'd love to hear about everyone else's perspectives and experiences thus far!
A commission for the awesome @holycritchance! Got the chance to doodle their oc and Parker and honestly i'm loving that the guy's been getting so much love recently!!
Thank you again so much for giving me the opportunity to draw your oc again!đ
synopsis; sometimes things are better not going as originally planned.
word count; 1.7k
author's note; aaaaa my first piece for the loml - i've been nonstop playing the game since it was released and i finally feel as if i have a decent grasp on how to write for him!! this is for the monthly theme in the date everything discord :))
âWell good morning to you, too, cool kid.â
Freddy rumbles with a laugh as you grab onto the handles of your refrigerator, throwing open the doors with an excitement that was⊠uncharacteristic for you at this early hour.
âMorninâ, Freddy!â You chirp in response, eyes scanning what little food you had inside.
âWhatâs got you so chipper this morning, eh? I didnât see you stop by Kopiâs for your morning fix,â Freddy questions, watching as you reach inside and pull out a container of mixed fruit to examine. âIs it some special day? Feel like Holly wouldâve told me if it was a holiday.â
You hum to yourself as you set the fruit on the counter nearby before diving back in. âNot a holiday! Just excited for some plans Iâve got today.â
âOh, that sounds wonderful!â He beams at you. âWhatcha got going on today, cool kid?â
You smile, grabbing a ziploc bag containing half a block of cheese. It joins the fruit on the counter and you shut Freddyâs doors, next swinging open Cabrizzio.
âJust⊠hanging out,â you say with a damning flush reddening your face. âI thought a picnic would be nice, yeah?â
Freddyâs expression becomes one of mischief as he chuckles. âOh, I see. Youâre hanging out with Chance today, arenât ya?â
âDonât make me regret confiding in you,â you retort as you bring the fruit over to Sinclaire for a quick rinse. âIâll never tell you a thing again, Freddy.â
Freddy laughs in response, clearly amused at your empty threat. âAlright, alright,â he acquiesces, raising his hands. âA picnic sounds lovely. Here, thereâs some ice cream I made last night waiting in the freezer â I tested the waters and made a black cherry with some chunks of dark chocolate mixed in. Take it with ya!â
You canât contain your glee as you reach into the freezer and pull out the container, placing it with the rest of the food. With everything in one place, you bend down and dig through the cabinets beneath your sink.
âAh, there we go! Itâs no picnic basket but itâll do,â you murmur as you pull out an old shopping bag and carefully load the food inside along with some silverware. âThanks, Freddy, youâre the best!â
Freddy flushes with a chuckle. âAnything for you, cool kid. Swing by later to tell me how the ice cream was â and about your date!â
You shoot Freddy a pointed glance as you hurry around the corner and make a beeline for the office. As you approach the door you hear soft music playing within and a nervous feeling crawls up your spine. You stand outside the office, bag in hand, heart racing as your hand hovers over the doorknob.
Youâve no idea how much time passes before Dorian is what stands between you and the office, an eyebrow quirked at you.
âJust gonna stand here all day?â He asks, startling you. âNever seen you so rigid, friend. Nerves getting the best of you?â
âNo!â Your face scrunches up in irritation as Dorian chuckles at your far too quick response. A surge of courage surges through you as you straighten your back and push past Dorian into the office. âSee! Iâm going.â
âHave fun ââ
Thatâs all you catch before you practically slam the door behind you. You stop short as you find Chance standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by papers, game pieces, books and various writing utensils. A speaker playing some instrumental piece sits on the shelf and all the curtains are closed, giving the room a rather eerie feel.
âAh, hello!â Chance calls, stepping over the disarray to meet you. âSorry about the mess, I guess I got a bit carried away againâŠIâm just stumped on how I wanna go about this one.â
âCrafting another campaign?â You question, a fond smile tugging at your lips.
Chance chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. âAm I that obvious?â
You hold up the bag of food. âWanna tell me about it over some snacks?â
With that, youâre led into the heart of Chanceâs planning, standing with him amongst the many pieces of torn-out notebook paper and guidebooks. You notice sketches of characters from past campaigns scrawled in the margins accompanied by scribbled out plots, twists, settings â worlds built only to be discarded.
âYou see, I was thinking of asking you and Dasha if you wanted to reopen the troubadour run,â Chance says as he searches for his notes amongst the clutter, âfor some, say, post-credits fun! I was thinking about how we never touched further on how Miles fared within reaching their dream and came up with⊠here!â
He bends down, grabbing a few papers and holding them out to you. He takes the bag of food from you and sets it aside, eyes never leaving you as you read through his ideas. As you flip pages back and forth, he watches your eyes scan each line and awaits your feedback.
âA royal ball?â You look up to see Chance grinning broadly. âLet me guess â at the apex of the event, expect an enemy force to raid the palace, pocketing whatever they deem valuable. This all is inconsequential to a point until they choose to also take with them⊠the prized royal family heirloom, a priceless ribbon sheath! Another adventure is born!â
Chance smiles but shakes his head. âQuite the imagination you have! I guess Iâm starting to rub off on you, yeah? However, I was just thinking we have a relaxing session for once! Something fun and unexpected!â
âWoah, no risks? No danger? That is unexpected,â you agree. âYou said you were having troubles with this? It seems so well thought out, though.â
Even in the dimmed lighting you can see Chance redden as he takes the papers from you. âWell, heh, I really appreciate that. My shortcomings lie within the main event itself â dancing, specifically. Iâm just not sure how to best describe it to give you guys the imagery I usually provide.â
âYou donât know how to describeâŠhow to dance?â You ask, confused. He nods and you canât help but laugh â the idea of a man able to create such vast and beautiful worlds canât conjure up a way to explain a dance?
Chance huffs, pouting at your reaction. âI-Iâve tried everything I could think of! I even talked to Rainey but that, well, didnât give me much to work with. This music Iâve had on repeat for hours now has helped only set a mood but nothing more!â
Heâs clearly frustrated as he gestures to the papers and whatnot scattered all around the two of you. The aforementioned music fills the silence that follows and you let it play for a moment before an idea comes to mind.
âDance with me, then.â You hold a hand out to Chance, hoping to the geode goddess herself he canât notice the tremble in your fingers. âMaybe if you live the experience itâll be easier to work into a story?â
âIs this just an excuse for you to hold my hand?â He teases but rests his hand in yours regardless. âYou know how to dance?â
âVaguely.â You guide his other hand to rest on your hip before placing your unoccupied hand on his shoulder. âReady?â
Chance is quiet and you slowly begin to lead in a, frankly, improvised dance. Youâre careful to follow the beat while also making sure you donât step on any of his materials. Neither of you speaks for a couple of moments, too focused on keeping up with one another.
Soon, comfort creeps its way in and the two of you move fluidly together. The proximity becomes less nerve wracking and you find yourself slowly moving closer, practically chest to chest as the dance continues.
âIs⊠this working?â You murmur after some time, curious.
Chance nods. âOh, yeah. Had the scene all figured out about five steps into this whole thing.â
âIâm glad I could help.â You go to step back, figuring this is all he needed, but his grip on your hip tightens ever so slightly. âChance?â
âIâm sorry I turned our hangout into a G&G planning session,â he mutters, casting a glance at the abandoned bag of food in the corner. âYou brought food and everything only for me to hijack your plans.â
You attempt to stifle a laugh but find yourself unsuccessful, opting to cover your mouth with your hand. âYou say this as if Iâm having the worst time of my life.â
Chance shrugs, still swaying the both of you with the music. âYeah, but ââ
âIâd rather this over what I had planned,â you interrupt, reaching up and tapping the space between his eyebrows. âI admire your passion for what you love, Chance. Besides, Iâve just spent â what? â the last ten minutes in your arms. This was the best first date Iâve ever been on!â
Abruptly, the two of you stop swaying. Neither of you step away from each other, however, even when the speaker runs out of charge and leaves deafening silence.
âFirst date?â Chance echoes, a sort of excitement in his tone. You refuse to meet his gaze out of sheer embarrassment and he chuckles before giving your hip an affectionate squeeze before stepping back. âHere, I gotta clean this up and finish writing the oneshot. Are you free tomorrow to play?â
You nod, words failing you. His smile practically lights up the room and you canât help but smile yourself â Chanceâs joy is nothing if not contagious.
âGreat! Iâll let Dasha know,â he says. âAnd maybe afterwards, you and I can grab something to eat? Koaâs place would be a great place for a second date.â
You nod as he talks, eyes widening as the words second date are spoken.
âA secondâŠ! Y-yeah, absolutely!â Your eagerness has you tripping over your words. Clearing your throat, you try again. âIâd love to.â
Chance places a hand on your shoulder and leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. âTill tomorrow, then.â
Your heart leaps into your throat as you nod furiously, slowly backing out of the office. Once the door is shut you find yourself staring at it just as you had earlier, only this time the nerves are gone, replaced by overwhelming joy. Your heart pounds in your chest as you grin and run for the kitchen.
âFreddy! Freddy! Iâve got something to tell you!â
iâm doing a run on my pc and a run on my switch!! jerryâs gonna get some lovin and i will be updating mt chance experience after the game launches on steam later today!!
Since only the game demo is out this might be a bit rough. Once the full game comes out I'll remake this in case anything is super off.
- I'll probably make dating headcanons soon but I wanted to write about him falling in love with Y/N since it's so adorable.
If yearning were a person, this would be it, the embodiment of longing wrapped in soft glances and lingering silences. Itâs the way he looks at you when he thinks youâre not paying attention, as if memorizing the moment.
Itâs in the small gestures, the pause before he speaks, the way his hand almost reaches for yours, the softness in his voice when he says your name. He doesnât just feel love; he aches with it, like his heart is always leaning in your direction, waiting, hoping.
His presence is a constant hum of unspoken want, tender and patient, like heâs made of all the moments where love is felt but not yet spoken aloud.
As much as he absolutely loves when you join him for a game, your presence making every match feel more exciting and fun. Heâs just as enthusiastic about diving into your world. Whether itâs something creative, intellectual, or totally outside his usual comfort zone, he would fully throw himself into your hobbies and interests with genuine curiosity and effort.
Heâs the type who doesnât just participate out of obligation but takes the time to learn what you love, ask questions, and even surprise you by researching things on his own. Your passions become important to him simply because they matter to you.
You're all gonna have to forgive me. Nothing can stop me from pushing out content for this man. He's become my latest hyperfixation.
I was working on this for the past few days, and ahhhhhhhhh I LOVE HIM!!!
The two of us sat crisscross on the floor, surrounded by a chaotic sprawl of character sheets, maps, pencils, and hastily jotted notes. Dice of every shape and color littered the space between us like discarded gems, catching the glow of the desk lamp overhead. The world outside the room had long faded from relevance. We were far too absorbed in the game unfolding before us to care about anything beyond our improvised battlefield and imagined quests.
Every few minutes, the silence would be broken by the clatter of dice against the hardwood floor, followed by scribbles of pencil on paper and murmured debates over skill modifiers and alignment consequences. There was an ease to it all, a rhythm weâd fallen into without realizing, just rolls, reactions, and laughter. With each turn, the lines between the game and reality blurred a little more, and we were content to lose ourselves in the illusion.
âOkay!â Chance suddenly declared, clearing his throat with theatrical flair. He straightened his posture and lifted his drink like a nobleman offering a toast, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he slipped back into character. âThe man narrows his eyes, slowly sipping his drink as he weighs yourâhow shall we sayâbold claims.â
He paused, letting the tension hang for effect, then cracked his knuckles and leaned forward, voice dipping into a gravelly impersonation. âHe gives you a nod and says, âIâm certain Iâd be able to lend you some gold⊠but not without a favor.ââ
I couldn't help but laugh as Chance hunched his shoulders and deepened his voice, exaggerating every syllable. He was completely in his element, and for a moment, I forgot we were just playing a game. Thisâthis shared pocket of imagination felt more real than anything else.
I half listened with a tired yawn, stretching my arms overhead as I blinked against the heaviness pulling at my eyes. The room felt warmer now, cozier somehow, dimly lit by the soft yellow glow of the lamp beside us, casting long shadows across the walls. I did enjoy the gameâreally, I didâbut it had been a long session, and the late hour was finally starting to weigh on me. The kind of weariness that creeps in slowly, like a fog, until you're suddenly aware of just how long you've been sitting in one place.
Chanceâs voice continued, animated and rich with character, but it filtered into my ears like the tail end of a dream. I smiled faintly, watching him throw himself into the role with boundless energy, even as I let my head rest against the edge of the couch behind me. I wasnât ready to call it quits just yetâbut the thought had crossed my mind. My fingers idly toyed with the edge of my character sheet, the once-crisp paper now creased and smudged with eraser marks and the occasional tea stain from our earlier break.
The dice in front of me had stopped rolling long ago, now just silent spectators to a campaign that had slowly, lovingly, sprawled over the course of the evening. I glanced at the clock, its hands edging past midnight, and gave a small sigh through my nose.
Still, even as fatigue settled into my bones, I felt that familiar flicker of affection for these moments, the quiet comfort of shared stories, laughter echoing off the walls, and the ever-growing tapestry of a world we built one roll at a time.
Chance's expression softened slightly as he caught the tail end of (Y/N)'s yawn, the fatigue written plainly across their features despite the effort to stay engaged. He knew that look all too wellâeyes slightly glazed, posture slouched just enough to betray the tug of exhaustion, even if they hadnât said a word about it. He had a tendency to get swept up in his narrations, throwing himself so completely into the game that he sometimes forgot the passage of time or the pace of the people playing with him. But this time, the quiet signals were too clear to ignore.
His gaze drifted briefly toward the window behind them. The glass reflected little more than the faint golden glow of their lamplightâbeyond it, the world had gone completely dark, save for the soft shimmer of distant streetlights and the occasional passing car. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten. Time always slipped away during these sessions, swallowed by dice rolls and dialogue, and by the illusion of adventure spun between them.
He turned back to them, the edges of his dramatic persona fading as reality gently settled in. His voice, still warm, lowered into something softer, more grounded.
âAre you alright?â he asked, his tone no longer laced with bravado or theatrical flourish, but the quiet care of someone genuinely paying attention. âWe can stop for the night, if you want. I donât want to keep you up⊠we did start a bit later than usual tonight.â
There was a pause as he watched their reaction, his hands still resting over his notes, but the game clearly no longer the priority. It was always easy to forget that these stories they told, these make-believe battles and alliances, werenât the only meaningful part of the night. The real magic was in the quiet companionship, the understanding that stretched silently between moments like this. He could finish the scene later. What mattered now was (Y/N).
âBut weâre in the middle,â I said, my voice tinged with quiet protest as I sat up a little straighter, trying to summon a second wind. âIt would suck to stop now.â
Even as the words left my mouth, I felt the heaviness behind my eyes and the way my limbs resisted movement, slow and reluctant. A wave of tiredness had rolled over me, sudden but undeniable, like a blanket I hadnât meant to pull over myself. Still, I pushed against it, unwilling to let go of the story just yet.
We were right in the thick of it, the tension was high, the stakes had just been raised, and I could practically feel the next twist waiting on the other side of the next dice roll. It felt wrong to stop now, like closing a book mid-chapter, the characters paused mid-breath with their fates left hanging in the air. My character, our story, it all deserved more than that.
I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and gave a lopsided smile, trying to shake off the fog creeping in around the edges of my mind. âIâm fine, really,â I added, not entirely convincing, but hopeful. âI just⊠donât want to lose the momentum. You were on a roll.â
There was truth in that. Chanceâs energy, his voice, the way he wove narrative threads into something bigger than the game itself, it kept me rooted in the moment, even when my body begged for sleep. This wasnât just a game session; it was our time, carved out from the chaos of everything else. And even if I was tired, I wasnât quite ready to let go of it.
I reached for the dice again, letting them roll between my fingers, more out of habit than readiness. âLetâs just⊠do one more scene. See where it goes. Then we can stop."
I looked up at him, offering a small, hopeful grin, already knowing heâd be able to see right through my fatigue. But maybe, just maybe, heâd understand why I didnât want the night to end just yet.
Chance fidgeted with one of the dice on the floor, rolling it gently between his fingers as he looked down, his gaze momentarily distant. The familiar clatter of plastic on wood echoed softly between them, a quiet counterpoint to the silence that had settled in the room. He glanced away in thought, his expression caught somewhere between hesitation and quiet consideration.
He truly did appreciate (Y/N)âs desire to press on. It meant something, that spark of commitment, the drive to see the story through even in the face of tired eyes and fading energy. It spoke to how much they cared, not just about the campaign, but about this time they shared, these nights where imagination stitched them a world far removed from the ordinary. And yet, he couldnât ignore what he saw. The weariness in the way they blinked slowly, the subtle lag in speech, and the way their shoulders had slumped without her noticing. The session, as fun and immersive as it had been, was clearly starting to take its toll.
He bit his lower lip, the edges of it curling slightly under the pressure, a nervous habit from when he was wrestling with decisions he didnât particularly like making. He didnât want to disappoint her, not when they were so clearly trying to hold onto the momentum, but he also didnât want to keep pushing if it meant burning her out.
âI appreciate the enthusiasm,â he said finally, breaking the quiet with a voice that had softened noticeably. âReally, I do. It means a lot that youâre still this into it even when youâre clearly ready to crash.â
He paused, the die still turning slowly in his hand.
âBut I donât want to push you if youâre feeling exhausted. It wouldnât be nearly as fun for either of us if youâre running on fumes.â He met their eyes again, offering a faint, understanding smile. âBesides⊠the story will still be here tomorrow. Iâd rather you enjoy it than power through it.â
There was sincerity in his tone, the kind that rarely surfaced when he was behind the veil of his game master persona. This was just Chanceâno voice, no character, no theatricsâjust a friend who cared more about (Y/N) than whatever cliffhanger the next encounter might bring.
He set the dice down gently, folding his hands in his lap as he waited for her response, letting the moment breathe.
âYeah⊠Iâm sorry,â I said quietly, my voice barely above a murmur as I let out a small, tired breath. I reached up to rub the back of my neck, suddenly hyperaware of how heavy my body felt, how my limbs seemed to sag just a little more with every passing minute. âIâm just so tired after work, and⊠weâve been at it for a while now.â
As the words left my mouth, a ripple of guilt stirred in my chest. I glanced down at the scattered papers and dice between us, the remnants of the world weâd built tonight. The story was unfinished, the characters mid-mission, their choices hanging in the balanceâand I hated the idea of being the reason we paused, the reason the momentum faded.
I shifted slightly, fingers absently smoothing a crease on my character sheet, the motion more for comfort than anything. âI didnât want to cut it short,â I added after a beat, my eyes flicking back up to meet his. âYou were doing such a great job with the scene, and I didnât want to let you down or kill the mood.â
The room felt quieter now, more still, the hum of the lamp above us filling in the silence that lingered. I wrapped my arms loosely around my knees, the comfort of the position grounding me as I tried to shake the feeling that Iâd let something good slip through my fingers. But even with the guilt, I knew I was being honest. I was tired. The kind of tired that goes deeper than just wanting sleepâthe kind that came from a long day, a busy week, and the slow, creeping weight of burnout.
âI guess I just didnât want the night to end,â I admitted softly, offering a small, tired smile. âBut I think my bodyâs already decided itâs done for the day.â
âDonât apologize for feeling tired,â Chance responded gently, his voice carrying the kind of warmth that only comes from familiarity and genuine care. âWeâve been at this for hours, after all. It is getting late.â
He leaned back slightly, bracing himself with one hand on the floor, and let out a slow breath as he glanced around at the scattered remnants of their campaign. The maps, the notes, the half-empty drinks and bowls of forgotten snacksâit all told the story of an evening well spent. But even as much as he wanted to keep going, to see what twist or turn might come next in their shared story, he could feel the change in the room. The energy was quieter now, slower. And (Y/N) looked like they were balancing on the edge of sleep.
He paused for a moment, thoughtful. The impulse to continue tugged at himâhe couldâve easily narrated one more scene, spun one more encounter out of thin air. But he knew it wouldnât be the same. Not when their head was nodding forward every few minutes, not when the excitement in their voice had given way to soft, apologetic tones. He had too much respect for the game and for them to treat it like something to be rushed through.
âMaybeâŠâ he began slowly, choosing his words with care, âwe could stop here for now.â
There was reluctance in his voice, a subtle thread of regret woven through the suggestion. His gaze lingered on the dice she still held loosely in her hand, her fingers unmoving, the bright plastic now resting idle. âWeâre at a natural pause point anyway. It makes sense to wait until youâre feeling more rested.â
He offered a small, reassuring smile, one corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. âI donât want you to push yourself too hard just for the game. Itâs supposed to be fun, remember? Not something that drains you even more.â
His eyes met hers again, softer now. âWeâll pick up right where we left offâsame characters, same energy, maybe even better snacks,â he added with a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. âThe story isnât going anywhere.â
He gave them a moment to respond, letting his words settle between them like the comfortable silence of a long friendship.
"Aww, thanks, you're too sweet," I responded.
Chance chuckled softly, the sound low and warm in the quiet room. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as (Y/N) spoke, and he shook his head slightly, both amused and touched. There was something about the way they said it, so genuine, so casual, that made his chest tighten just a little in that quiet, aching way affection sometimes sneaks in.
He shrugged, the gesture a little sheepish, his gaze dropping for a moment to the cluttered floor between them. âWell,â he murmured, voice laced with modesty and just a hint of embarrassment, âI just donât like seeing you pushed to your limits.â
He glanced back up at them then, and for a heartbeat, his expression turned serious, not heavy, but honest, the kind of look that stripped away the usual banter and left only sincerity behind. âYou work hard enough already,â he said, softer now, a subtle crease forming between his brows. âYouâre always doing so much. I wouldnât want to be the reason youâre tired and miserable tomorrow.â
There was still a flicker of worry in his eyes, to make sure they were really okay with ending the session here. It wasnât just about the gameâit never was. It was about them, their comfort, their well-being, the trust they shared across the countless late-night campaigns and shared moments like this one.
Slowly, he reached forward and began gathering the scattered dice, the click of plastic against plastic filling the space between them in a rhythmic, unhurried pattern. He picked up their dice last, giving it a quick spin on the wood floor before catching it in his palm and adding it to the others. With his free hand, he stacked the character sheets, smoothing out the creases and placing them in their usual folder with care. Every motion was gentle, deliberate, like he was trying to preserve the moment rather than rush it away.
âBesides,â he added after a moment, glancing back at her with a more playful tilt to his voice, âif we stop now, it gives me time to come up with something really evil for next session. You know⊠make you regret ever suggesting we pause.â
His grin widened slightly, teasing just enough to lift the mood without losing the tenderness that had settled between them. The game mightâve paused, but the quiet understanding they shared was still very much alive, humming like a thread of magic beneath the surface.
I reached forward to help with the cleanup, sliding papers into neat piles and gathering stray dice that had rolled beneath the edge of the couch. It was a comfortable silence, the kind that only came after hours of shared focus, the room still humming faintly with the echoes of our laughter and storytelling. We moved in sync, a practiced rhythm from countless nights like this, though the weight of fatigue made each movement slower, more deliberate.
As I reached for a stack of index cards at the same time Chance went for the dice bag, our hands brushedâjust barely. A whisper of contact, skin against skin, warm and unexpected.
The touch was light, nothing dramatic, but it startled me more than it should have. My breath caught, and I jumped slightly, as if the sensation had sparked something too sudden, too close. âS-sorry,â I stammered, instinctively pulling my hand back as a flush crept up the back of my neck. I kept my eyes low, suddenly very interested in a particularly bent character sheet.
The brush of his fingers had been nothing, really. Accidental. But it lingered longer in my mind than I wanted to admit, gentle and fleeting, like static, like the hint of something left unsaid. My heart thudded a little faster in my chest, more from the surprise than anything elseâŠor so I tried to convince myself.
I could feel the awkward tension settle for a moment, delicate and uncertain, like the pause in a conversation when neither person is quite sure what to say. And yet, even in my embarrassment, I sensed no judgment from Chance. No teasing. Just the quiet, patient presence Iâd come to rely on.
I glanced up, halfway expecting him to laugh it off, but something in his expression made me pause, calm, understanding, maybe even a little amused, but not unkind.
Chanceâs eyes flicked down instinctively to where their hands had touched, just a fleeting brush, the kind that mightâve gone unnoticed under any other circumstances. But he had noticed. And more than that, he noticed the way (Y/N) had jumped slightly, the soft stammer in their apology. The reaction was small, almost nothingâŠand yet, to him, it felt like everything.
He found it oddly endearing, the way such a brief, accidental contact had caught them off guard. There was a certain vulnerability in it, a raw honesty that tugged gently at something inside him. She wasnât pretending it hadnât happened, wasnât laughing it off, or making a joke; they were just there, caught in the moment, real and unguarded. And for reasons he couldnât quite articulate, that meant more to him than he expected.
âItâsâŠItâs fine,â he replied after a beat, slightly flustered. He looked at me, then quickly away again, his gaze dropping back to the notebook in his hand. âNo need to apologize.â
Still, his face felt warm from the contact, not hot, exactly, but tinged with something he couldnât quite shake. He cleared his throat quietly, a subtle attempt to regain composure, and reached for the last set of dice with deliberate focus. His fingers fumbled slightly as he tried to zip up the pouch, and he cursed under his breath, more at himself than the stubborn zipper.
He could feel the moment lingering in the space between them, hovering there like unspoken subtext. He tried to act casual, continuing to sort the materials and stack the books, but it was hard to ignore the slight flutter in his chest. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just tired nerves and a long evening and the strange intimacy that always settled in the quiet after a shared adventure. Or maybeâjust maybeâit was something more.
âI, uhâŠâ he began, then stopped himself, unsure of what he was about to say. Something about how he didnât mind the touch. Something about how it wasnât just the game that made these nights feel important. But the words felt too delicate, too soon, and so he let them fade.
He offered a small, somewhat bashful smile as he glanced her way again. âGuess weâre both a little more tired than we realized.â
Aside from Chance what do you think of other Dateables like Jerry, Penelope or Mac
anon, you sent me on an adventure and i spent the whole day playing the demo to make sure i meet as many dateables as i could only so i could present a list of my top ten! buckle up folks, this is a long one!
now presenting: holycritchance's top 10 dateables from date everything! (in no particular order)
no. 1: chance, the d20 (location: on the desk in the office)
okay, okay, i know this one was obvious but c'mon. look at him!!!! he's so baby boy and i love his enthusiasm & dedication to creating a fun experience for you and your game companion( jerry & dasha specifically, but lux's run can be fun for the most part ). the way he giggles and banters with you when you flirt with him?? ASKING TO MOVE TO THE ACTUAL SHEETS AFTER TELLING YOU THAT YOURE PERFECT TO HIM??? SIR. i'm beelining for this man the minute i have access to the full game in 9 days
no.2: dasha, the desk (found: in the office)
i just adore how confident she is & how she wants to help the human be able to confidently talk to others - even if she doesn't think that other would be her. i can proudly say i asked her to crush my head between her thighs without hesitation.
no. 3: betty, the bed (location: bedroom)
CMONNNN you thought this was gonna be a valid list without this lovely bed of ours? the frame corset??? the fitted sheet outerwear??? HER VOICE???? oh my GODS her design is PEAK and i'd bedrot for life w her as my bed.
no.4: freddy, the fridge (location: the kitchen)
there's something about the rasp in his voice that has me in a damn chokehold - the things i would do to have this yeti flirt with me are innumerable like stop telling me how to reheat food and tell me how you're taking me to bed. i saw someone caption a tiktok about him with "lemme climb you" and yknow what that's so REALLL
no.5: jerry, the junk drawer (location: drawer in the desk, office)
JERRY MY SWEET,,, he can do absolutely no wrong in my eyes. i personally think he's got some of the funniest lines in the demo, especially if you have him take you on a tour of the drawer (the mold-induced cough had me reeling). no but fr having this man fall for you day one made me wanna keep him safe in my pocket & fight whoever said he'd be attracting rats w his collection.
no.6: florence, the floor (location: any floor)
LOOK AT THIS SWEETHEART AND TELL ME YOU DONT LOVE HER IMMEDIATELY. if florence has no fans i'm dead, plain and simple. she's just the DAMN SWEETEST and i'm so glad celia is looking out for her bc i hate how hard this lovely lady is on herself. and her voice??? UGH LEMME LOVE YOU LIKE YOU DESERVE MAAM
no. 7: mateo, the blanket (location: draped on a chair, living room)
YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THIS SOFT SWEETIE RESUCES ANIMALS??? sold. sat. smitten. oh my god he looks like he gives the best hugs/cuddles and i could listen to him talk all day. i love the concept of the inanimals and you can really tell how much they mean to him even with the first two interactions.
no. 8: dolly, the dust bunny (location: under the couch [interact w the couch without the glasses on first and she appears])
DOLLY ONE CHANCE PLEAAAAASE. beauty AND brains with a southern accent? when i tell y'all i folded like a damn lawn chair. i'm a damn SUCKER for a powerful woman and she IS that. THE MAGAZINE??? OH MY GODSSSS i need more of her NOW
no. 9: miranda, the toaster (location: kitchen counter)
OOOOO ANOTHER BADDIE bro as soon as she had that, like, two second cameo telling off scandalabra i was sold. made a beeline for her right after talking to him. i'd pay for pit tickets to her concerts no matter the price. i absolutely adore her design, i think it's one of the best in the game honestly.
no. 10: scandalabra
he's legit one of the funniest characters i came across thus far, i'm obsessed with this diva. now while i wouldn't romance him, i wanna be best friends just to spill human and object tea w him. his voice is PERFECT for his design, 10/10 no notes
honorable mentions: stella, the stairs; washford, the washer(i desperately need him and drysdale to have their happy ending); phonecia, the phone - there are so many good characters in this game and i'm stoked to learn about the rest when the full game is released!
